I got another freakin speeding ticket!
Yes, almost exactly a year after my last one! Are you kidding me? Is this gonna be my new special way of welcoming in each new year? Because it totally sucks!
The easiest way to avoid all of that would be to just stop speeding but apparently, someone doesn't know how to watch her speed. And I only get pulled over when I'm not trying to speed. The times when I'm balls to the walls flying somewhere because I'm late - nothin. Karma is a real bitch.
I had the girls with me, which totally sucked. They didn't really get scared but they were pretty wide-eyed. And then immediately after, every couple of minutes M would say "Are you speeding Mom?" really worried. And then we passed another cop. She was really worried about that. The best part, of course, was when we pulled up and Benny walked up to the car to greet us and she immediately flung her door open and shouted "Mommy got pulled over by a cop!"
And I cried after he handed me the ticket. Never in my life have I done that. And I've gotten a lot of tickets in my lifetime. Seriously, I think there were a few consecutive years in my early twenties that I got about two a year. And never any water-works. I don't why today, guess feeling especially irresponsible.
M told me I could use the money in her piggy bank to pay for the ticket. She's seriously such a sweet kid. And as I was helping M2 out of the car she looked up at me and said, very seriously, "Mommy, I'm sorry the PoPo gave you a ticket." I have no idea where that came from but I'm sure her police officer uncle will appreciate that one. At least it had me laughing...
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Saturday, December 28, 2013
Christmas Cleanup
And as quickly as it came, it has gone...
There is nothing left of Christmas in my house. At all. It has all been taken down, packed up and put away. Hooray for me!
Not hooray Christmas is gone, because I love Christmas, but hooray I got it done.
This is only significant because one year I let Christmas and Valentines Day intermingle. I had gotten overly ambitious while decorating and had wrapped the entire staircase in garland and bows. It was a really rustic staircase and the decorations looked terrific.
The staircase had a real "cabiny" feel. Totally not my style but I really liked it. It was a completely weird set-up though, the stairs came down the side of the living room about four feet from the fireplace, so it cut off putting any furniture on that entire wall or in front of the fireplace. It was such an awkward living room design, like the architect had given no thought that someone might actually need to put a couch in there somewhere. But the master bedroom was HUGE, bigger than the living room, so that cancelled out the bad living room space.
We bought that house practically unseen. It was a HUD sale that was closing the very night we found it. We met our realtor after work and she showed it to us by flashlight. We stumbled through the house in the dark, trying to figure out what room was what...Even though we really couldn't see the house, we decided that we could fix anything we didn't like. And it was almost twice the size of our first house.
So we bid. And won.
Then we had this house with this space we didn't really need. And two rooms upstairs that went largely unoccupied. And a staircase that mainly doubled as a chair, because the majority of the time when I was on the stairs it was only to sit on the bottom two steps. So that year, when I took down all the Christmas stuff I just kinda overlooked the stairs.
Then lost motivation to do it.
And then it became a matter of stubbornness because I can be kinda crummy that way. It bothered my husband enough that he would mention it to me but not enough that he would take it down. His philosophy was that I put it out, I should put it up. And I agree with that-it sucks to clean up after people. But that stubborn side of me took over and I thought, if you want it done, then do it!
And I do generally try to practice that philosophy. Except when it comes to power tools. Those I avoid... minus the time my husband was out of town and I needed something cut. I grabbed his saw and came dangerously close to splitting the back of our couch open. And losing a foot.
I also try to practice the philosophy of learning from past foolishness. So there is nothing left of Christmas in my house. At all. It has all been taken down, packed up and put away.
Hooray for me!
There is nothing left of Christmas in my house. At all. It has all been taken down, packed up and put away. Hooray for me!
Not hooray Christmas is gone, because I love Christmas, but hooray I got it done.
This is only significant because one year I let Christmas and Valentines Day intermingle. I had gotten overly ambitious while decorating and had wrapped the entire staircase in garland and bows. It was a really rustic staircase and the decorations looked terrific.
The staircase had a real "cabiny" feel. Totally not my style but I really liked it. It was a completely weird set-up though, the stairs came down the side of the living room about four feet from the fireplace, so it cut off putting any furniture on that entire wall or in front of the fireplace. It was such an awkward living room design, like the architect had given no thought that someone might actually need to put a couch in there somewhere. But the master bedroom was HUGE, bigger than the living room, so that cancelled out the bad living room space.
We bought that house practically unseen. It was a HUD sale that was closing the very night we found it. We met our realtor after work and she showed it to us by flashlight. We stumbled through the house in the dark, trying to figure out what room was what...Even though we really couldn't see the house, we decided that we could fix anything we didn't like. And it was almost twice the size of our first house.
So we bid. And won.
Then we had this house with this space we didn't really need. And two rooms upstairs that went largely unoccupied. And a staircase that mainly doubled as a chair, because the majority of the time when I was on the stairs it was only to sit on the bottom two steps. So that year, when I took down all the Christmas stuff I just kinda overlooked the stairs.
Then lost motivation to do it.
And then it became a matter of stubbornness because I can be kinda crummy that way. It bothered my husband enough that he would mention it to me but not enough that he would take it down. His philosophy was that I put it out, I should put it up. And I agree with that-it sucks to clean up after people. But that stubborn side of me took over and I thought, if you want it done, then do it!
And I do generally try to practice that philosophy. Except when it comes to power tools. Those I avoid... minus the time my husband was out of town and I needed something cut. I grabbed his saw and came dangerously close to splitting the back of our couch open. And losing a foot.
I also try to practice the philosophy of learning from past foolishness. So there is nothing left of Christmas in my house. At all. It has all been taken down, packed up and put away.
Hooray for me!
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Help Yourself
Everybody knows that WalMart in December is hell. The entire
month in that place is horrible – it’s overcrowded, the lines are ridiculously
long, and everyone’s rude. So I do my best to avoid it around Christmas time.
Which is fairly hard when you live in a town where the only shopping options
are WalMart, Walgreens and Family Dollar.
So I ordered everything online. This way, all I have to do is run in, go to the back of the store, pick up my stuff and GO! Right?
Nothin.
“This is Susie.” The way she said it, it might as well have been “Just shoot me now.”
Funny how that happened.
So I ordered everything online. This way, all I have to do is run in, go to the back of the store, pick up my stuff and GO! Right?
Wrong.
I did run in and I did go to the back of the store but that’s
where my luck ended.
There wasn’t a WalMart employee to be found. They had a neat
little sign instructing me to touch the kiosk to get an associate, but the
magic little genie inside that lamp didn’t feel like cooperating because no associate
appeared. So I waited. And waited. And waited.
At some point, when I knew I had been waiting past an
acceptable time, I whipped out my phone. Yep, now I’m trackin the time. The kiosk had stopped blinking so I touched
it again. This time a little more aggressively. Blink, blink, blink.
I’m looking around trying to find someone when I spot a
woman in a blue shirt and khaki pants walking towards me. Does she work here or is that just an unfortunate
wardrobe choice? As soon as she senses
me, the head goes down and she tries at all cost to avoid eye contact. Definitely
works here. I shout out “I have an order
to pick up, is there someone that can help me?” She looks more than mildly
annoyed but tells me she'll get someone.
No one.
I punch the kiosk. Blink, blink, blink.
Nothin.
It’s been 10 minutes since I began tracking time. That’s my
cut off. Time to get these people
moving.
I dial the WalMart number and ask to speak with a manager.
“This is Susie.” The way she said it, it might as well have been “Just shoot me now.”
In my sweetest voice I proceed, “Hi, my name is Amber Mitchell. I ordered some items online
that I’ve come to pick up and I’m back in the Site to Store area but there isn’t
anyone back here. It’s been over 10 minutes so I’m just gonna run back into
your stockroom and grab em. I just wanted to let someone know.”
“Wait. What? You’re in the store?” Obviously, she tuned me out
after hearing ‘online’.
“Yeah. I’m here to
pick up my order but there isn’t anyone here and I can’t find anyone. So
I just wanted to let someone know I'm gonna run back there real quick and grab them myself. They’re already paid for-”
“Wait. I’m headed that way now.”
And guess what? Within 60 seconds I had a manager and two
associates ready, willing and able to help.
Funny how that happened.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
McThanks
Happy Thanksgiving from Outinthemiddleofnowhere, America!
It's so weird to think that for my children, this holiday will always be synonymous with staying in a hotel and eating fast-food for dinner.
My childhood Thanksgiving was very traditional. The Macy's day parade played on the television while the women worked in the kitchen making their special dishes. My grandfather would ceremoniously carve the turkey. There was always a feast, complete with formal table setting and the "fancy" plates. We went around the room, each sharing what we were most thankful for and always saying a prayer before the meal. The rest of the afternoon was spent playing games. The entire day felt special - it wasn't just a meal and then done.
And that's just not the way my in-laws do things. They tend to be the more non-celebratory type. Which is why my husband never had a birthday party. And for a girl that likes to celebrate everything and celebrate big...well, it's just weird.
Like, how does anything about this day separate it from any other? Because isn't that kinda the point of a holiday? For it to be special in some way? I just feel like holidays should be marked by ceremony and tradition.
I would love to host a holiday that looks like a spread from Good Housekeeping. Totally not the woman to do it, though. Not enough talent or time. But mostly not enough talent. Unless you can produce that kind of meal just using a microwave.
Annnd my inner Betty Crocker just died a little bit.
So my Thanksgiving largely consisted of me scrolling through fb all day. And looking at all these beautiful Thanksgiving meals. And I'm over here all "Ham, mac&cheese, and roaches. Yum!"
But it is what it is... I know it's important for my husband to spend time with his family and for the girls to get to share something with them too. And that makes it special in it's own way.
Besides, what kid doesn't think it's super cool to be in a hotel chowing on chicken nuggets and fries?
Happy Thanksgiving 2013!
It's so weird to think that for my children, this holiday will always be synonymous with staying in a hotel and eating fast-food for dinner.
My childhood Thanksgiving was very traditional. The Macy's day parade played on the television while the women worked in the kitchen making their special dishes. My grandfather would ceremoniously carve the turkey. There was always a feast, complete with formal table setting and the "fancy" plates. We went around the room, each sharing what we were most thankful for and always saying a prayer before the meal. The rest of the afternoon was spent playing games. The entire day felt special - it wasn't just a meal and then done.
And that's just not the way my in-laws do things. They tend to be the more non-celebratory type. Which is why my husband never had a birthday party. And for a girl that likes to celebrate everything and celebrate big...well, it's just weird.
Like, how does anything about this day separate it from any other? Because isn't that kinda the point of a holiday? For it to be special in some way? I just feel like holidays should be marked by ceremony and tradition.
I would love to host a holiday that looks like a spread from Good Housekeeping. Totally not the woman to do it, though. Not enough talent or time. But mostly not enough talent. Unless you can produce that kind of meal just using a microwave.
Annnd my inner Betty Crocker just died a little bit.
So my Thanksgiving largely consisted of me scrolling through fb all day. And looking at all these beautiful Thanksgiving meals. And I'm over here all "Ham, mac&cheese, and roaches. Yum!"
But it is what it is... I know it's important for my husband to spend time with his family and for the girls to get to share something with them too. And that makes it special in it's own way.
Besides, what kid doesn't think it's super cool to be in a hotel chowing on chicken nuggets and fries?
Happy Thanksgiving 2013!
Sunday, November 24, 2013
I Need A Shovel
There are a lot of things that I like: Country music. Diet Dr. Pepper. Driving down back roads with the windows down, the music up and my feet on the dash. Late night swims. Mexican food. The smell of new books. Raw cookie dough. The ocean. Sleeping in. Sooner football. Dancing. The color purple.
There are things I don't like: Being ignored. Poor service. Traffic. Spiders. Social injustice. Muffin top. Feeling rushed. Putting away laundry. Beans. Soul patches. Arrogance. Bad table manners. Crocs.
And being lied to.
I've been trying to get something that was paid for back in May and I'm getting the run-around. That alone is frustrating but I am 10 times more frustrated by the fact that instead of being honest and just telling me what happened, I'm getting fed a plate full of heaping crap.
The whole thing is so lame and insulting to my intelligence. Like I'm not smart enough to figure it out. Like I don't notice the inconsistencies or down-right absurdities of the stories. Do I come across as that dumb?
And it's confusing, because it's not like I'm some random stranger. I'm the person you've known for four years. I'm the person that waited around every Wednesday night to make sure you had a ride home. I'm the person who has scheduled play dates and done birthday parties. We may not be friends, but shouldn't that count for something?
Because it counts for something to me! Trust me, if it didn't I wouldn't keep giving you the benefit of the doubt. I wouldn't keep giving you chances. I wouldn't stand there with my mouth shut while you tell me lame and ridiculous excuses.
And when, once again, it fell apart yesterday I wanted so badly to call you out. There were a zillion things I wanted to say. None of them were particularly nice. And since I already knew how it was going to go, I had walked in planning to say them all.
But I couldn't do it. I just couldn't. Not because I didn't want to and not because I didn't think it was warranted. I couldn't do it because I'm still hoping you do the right thing. You've already ruined your credibility and lost my business but I want to give you the opportunity to make it right.
And I know that's kinda dumb and naive on my part because we both know when I show up Monday there will be another story. But eventually there's going to be an end. And I'm hoping it's an end that we can both feel good about.
There are things I don't like: Being ignored. Poor service. Traffic. Spiders. Social injustice. Muffin top. Feeling rushed. Putting away laundry. Beans. Soul patches. Arrogance. Bad table manners. Crocs.
And being lied to.
I've been trying to get something that was paid for back in May and I'm getting the run-around. That alone is frustrating but I am 10 times more frustrated by the fact that instead of being honest and just telling me what happened, I'm getting fed a plate full of heaping crap.
The whole thing is so lame and insulting to my intelligence. Like I'm not smart enough to figure it out. Like I don't notice the inconsistencies or down-right absurdities of the stories. Do I come across as that dumb?
And it's confusing, because it's not like I'm some random stranger. I'm the person you've known for four years. I'm the person that waited around every Wednesday night to make sure you had a ride home. I'm the person who has scheduled play dates and done birthday parties. We may not be friends, but shouldn't that count for something?
Because it counts for something to me! Trust me, if it didn't I wouldn't keep giving you the benefit of the doubt. I wouldn't keep giving you chances. I wouldn't stand there with my mouth shut while you tell me lame and ridiculous excuses.
And when, once again, it fell apart yesterday I wanted so badly to call you out. There were a zillion things I wanted to say. None of them were particularly nice. And since I already knew how it was going to go, I had walked in planning to say them all.
But I couldn't do it. I just couldn't. Not because I didn't want to and not because I didn't think it was warranted. I couldn't do it because I'm still hoping you do the right thing. You've already ruined your credibility and lost my business but I want to give you the opportunity to make it right.
And I know that's kinda dumb and naive on my part because we both know when I show up Monday there will be another story. But eventually there's going to be an end. And I'm hoping it's an end that we can both feel good about.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Can I Rewind?
I’ve made a mistake.
I broke my rule and done something I know I shouldn’t have done. And I feel bad about it.
While I was at conference we made a late night visit to a piano bar. I had fun. Too much fun. I didn’t realize it at the time but I was a little more gone than I thought and it wasn’t until the next day that I realized what I had done.
I have a small group of friends that I love and trust – these are my go-to people. I feel like I can say anything to them - I know they understand and most importantly, I know the conversations won’t get repeated. So when I need to vent, those are the people I call. Other than that, I make it a rule to watch what I say and not talk about other people.
Apparently, this rule doesn’t apply if I’ve been drinking.
I ended up back at the hotel, sitting in the lobby running my big, fat mouth. I don’t remember how the conversation started and honestly, I don’t even remember most of it. But I distinctly remember talking smack. And that’s a major foul. I’m so pissed at myself – I know better than that!
And to make it worse, the person I was talking to is not someone I trust. In fact, I have reasons to distrust them. Really, Amber? You get drunk and talk all kinds of crazy crap and this is the person you decide to talk to? It couldn’t have been anyone else? At least one of my friends would have told me to shut up.
My only hope is that her memory of that night is as blurry as mine. Because really, I try to be better than that. Obviously, I’m not but I try.
I blame the entire thing on a guy at the bar who introduced me to these drinks…something bombs. I was standing in line to get a drink when he walked up and asked me what I was drinking. I responded by telling him he couldn’t buy me a drink and he laughed and told me I was awful presumptuous, that he didn't say he was going to buy me a drink, he just asked what I was drinking. And it was funny, because I was being presumptuous.
But I didn’t want the guy to waste his time or his money – buying me a drink was going to get him nowhere and I wanted him to know that right away. I was trying to do him a favor. Of course, then he felt sorry for me and a minute later he was putting this bomb drink in my hand.
And I’m picky about my drinks but this was good. A little too good…
So I feel bad and hope I didn't do too much damage. And I'm implementing a new rule - I'm not allowed to talk after two drinks. And that will actually work out in everyone's favor!
I broke my rule and done something I know I shouldn’t have done. And I feel bad about it.
While I was at conference we made a late night visit to a piano bar. I had fun. Too much fun. I didn’t realize it at the time but I was a little more gone than I thought and it wasn’t until the next day that I realized what I had done.
I have a small group of friends that I love and trust – these are my go-to people. I feel like I can say anything to them - I know they understand and most importantly, I know the conversations won’t get repeated. So when I need to vent, those are the people I call. Other than that, I make it a rule to watch what I say and not talk about other people.
Apparently, this rule doesn’t apply if I’ve been drinking.
I ended up back at the hotel, sitting in the lobby running my big, fat mouth. I don’t remember how the conversation started and honestly, I don’t even remember most of it. But I distinctly remember talking smack. And that’s a major foul. I’m so pissed at myself – I know better than that!
And to make it worse, the person I was talking to is not someone I trust. In fact, I have reasons to distrust them. Really, Amber? You get drunk and talk all kinds of crazy crap and this is the person you decide to talk to? It couldn’t have been anyone else? At least one of my friends would have told me to shut up.
My only hope is that her memory of that night is as blurry as mine. Because really, I try to be better than that. Obviously, I’m not but I try.
I blame the entire thing on a guy at the bar who introduced me to these drinks…something bombs. I was standing in line to get a drink when he walked up and asked me what I was drinking. I responded by telling him he couldn’t buy me a drink and he laughed and told me I was awful presumptuous, that he didn't say he was going to buy me a drink, he just asked what I was drinking. And it was funny, because I was being presumptuous.
But I didn’t want the guy to waste his time or his money – buying me a drink was going to get him nowhere and I wanted him to know that right away. I was trying to do him a favor. Of course, then he felt sorry for me and a minute later he was putting this bomb drink in my hand.
And I’m picky about my drinks but this was good. A little too good…
So I feel bad and hope I didn't do too much damage. And I'm implementing a new rule - I'm not allowed to talk after two drinks. And that will actually work out in everyone's favor!
Monday, November 18, 2013
Sweet Dreams
My husband always passes out on the couch early. Seriously,
the guy usually doesn’t make it past 9:30. I’m kinda a night owl so I listen to
him snore for a couple of hours and then send him off to bed. Last night,
though, I decided to go up with him. I
was so tired!
I had a busy week with conference and then we played hard this weekend. It was our annual friend’s casino trip – this was the big group, although I can’t say they are all really friends. Two of the couples I consider friends, another couple we’re pretty friendly with and the rest of the people are really just my husband’s business associates. They’re the ones that are so loaded it’s ridiculous. Remember them from this post? They come from a world I can’t even understand. Totally nice people, but we have completely different life perspectives.
So we left the hotel around 10 and drove all day long. We went about 2 hours out of the way to check on our dock and pay the guy for his work. Only to discover a problem. Seriously, that dock has been the biggest pain in the butt! It’s something he can get fixed but it totally derailed our plans and ended up taking longer than we expected. All we did yesterday was drive so by the time we finally made it home I just wanted to crash.
We get into bed and a few minutes later M comes into our room and says she’s hot. Benny tells her to plug in her fan and go back to bed. So I walk her back, turn on her fan and get her tucked in. About 10 minutes later she comes in and she’s scared, she’s had a nightmare. Normally, I would have taken her back to her room and rubbed her back until she fell asleep but I was so tired and cold I didn’t want to get out of bed again. So instead, I just told her to crawl in next to me.
Then I couldn’t fall asleep, it seems like my mind was racing and I was wide awake. So I toss and turn until husband is adequately annoyed. Just as I’m drifting off to sleep I hear M say something. I ask her groggily what she’s said then I distinctly hear “I’m gonna get sick.”
Ugh. That’s not something you ever want to hear, especially when they’re in your bed. So I jump out of bed to grab her something but it’s too late. She’s already puking.
Into my pillow.
There are few things that compare to that level of grossness. Especially when it’s your pillow.
So much for getting good sleep last night. I’m gonna try again tonight. And if anyone comes in scared, I’m sending them to their Daddy’s side!
I had a busy week with conference and then we played hard this weekend. It was our annual friend’s casino trip – this was the big group, although I can’t say they are all really friends. Two of the couples I consider friends, another couple we’re pretty friendly with and the rest of the people are really just my husband’s business associates. They’re the ones that are so loaded it’s ridiculous. Remember them from this post? They come from a world I can’t even understand. Totally nice people, but we have completely different life perspectives.
 |
| The "wolfpack" - the one that belongs to me has been designated as Alan. |
 |
| He looks thrilled to have me lovin on him, doesn't he? |
So we left the hotel around 10 and drove all day long. We went about 2 hours out of the way to check on our dock and pay the guy for his work. Only to discover a problem. Seriously, that dock has been the biggest pain in the butt! It’s something he can get fixed but it totally derailed our plans and ended up taking longer than we expected. All we did yesterday was drive so by the time we finally made it home I just wanted to crash.
We get into bed and a few minutes later M comes into our room and says she’s hot. Benny tells her to plug in her fan and go back to bed. So I walk her back, turn on her fan and get her tucked in. About 10 minutes later she comes in and she’s scared, she’s had a nightmare. Normally, I would have taken her back to her room and rubbed her back until she fell asleep but I was so tired and cold I didn’t want to get out of bed again. So instead, I just told her to crawl in next to me.
Then I couldn’t fall asleep, it seems like my mind was racing and I was wide awake. So I toss and turn until husband is adequately annoyed. Just as I’m drifting off to sleep I hear M say something. I ask her groggily what she’s said then I distinctly hear “I’m gonna get sick.”
Ugh. That’s not something you ever want to hear, especially when they’re in your bed. So I jump out of bed to grab her something but it’s too late. She’s already puking.
Into my pillow.
There are few things that compare to that level of grossness. Especially when it’s your pillow.
So much for getting good sleep last night. I’m gonna try again tonight. And if anyone comes in scared, I’m sending them to their Daddy’s side!
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