Teenagers Think They're So Smart

Dillon: “Hey, you want some chips and salsa?”

Me: “I’ll have some if you’re having some.”

“Well, I put some on my sandwich.”

“So… you want me to eat some, thereby mitigating any responsibility you might incur for the salsa’s return to the fridge.”

“Pretty much.”

Preoccupation

I've been preoccupied. And occupied. And even a little apathetic.

I did have a few "Things I Learned This Weekend", but I didn't write them down and now I forget what they were.

Except this one:

K-Y Warming Liquid does not make your hair silky and shiny in the same manner as Bain de Terre Recovery Compex.

Unfortunately, they look very similar in your bathroom drawer.

Journal Update

For those who haven't already noticed, Betty is finished with her portion of The Journal (including Don't-Forget-To-Fuck-With-Paige DNA) and it will soon be on its way to LeahPeah.

And I've added Melyssa to the end of the Ultimate Mailing Matrix so she can join in the fun.

Yay!!!

Things I Learned This Weekend

1) The human head does, in fact, weigh 8 pounds. (Or a little over 8, if you're a kid with a jumbo melon, like Mackenzie. Don't go feeling sorry for her, either, that I would say that. If her head came out your vagina you would have an opinion too.) Evidence:

Dog has never seen this behavior before and does not understand:


Observe how it actually says "NINE Pounds":

2) When you tell your kids they can't do anything on Saturday until the house is all cleaned up, you will get two little tornadoes of washing, dusting, vacuuming, mopping, even clothes-folding like you've never seen before. Thanks, kids!

C) When the girls (Singing-Lisa and I) start winning at Hand & Foot, we never stop and will stomp the boys into pulpy little piles of flesh and bone. Because we are AWESOME! Girls rule and boys drool!

4) The day after all the leaves are blown off your lawn is the day that the wind picks up and every single oak in your yard drops every single leaf right back on it. (But I am not bitching, I am just saying. It's a fact.)

5) If you want to make some excellent Crawfish Etouffee, you should talk to Emeril. He knows what he's talking about. I did change it a bit because I cannot follow directions. First of all, I doubled this recipe. I added some garlic, salt & pepper, and some chipotle red pepper flakes. I didn't make it too spicy so Mac could enjoy it, and just put some Tabasco on the table. I served it over Basmati rice. There is none left.

6) The Wizard of Oz never gets old. It was on TBS last night and I may or may not have watched it one-and-a-half times back-to-back.

7) Mackenzie likes The Colbert Report. (I didn't technically learn this until just now, but I think it's just a good thing to know.)

Crazy Wrangling

I told a friend I was not going to give these 3 whack-jobs anymore of my energy, but I'm sorry. I thought about it and decided that you, The Internet, deserve to share in the extent of my pain:

First, Mr. Potbelly came in. He first came in on Monday, and wanted to know who was responsible for not removing the leaves on his lawn. He contended that 2/3 of the property was entirely cleaned of leafy debris. Everywhere, except for his lawn. I told him that the "Leaf Collection" hadn't actually begun and wasn't scheduled to begin until the 13th, that the cleaner lawns he saw were from blowing and mowing, and I started to disagree with him that his lawn was the only one with leaves, when it occurred to me that while I don't believe this to be true, I didn't actually inspect the entire neighborhood that day and therefore I would be making an uninformed statement. But I did assure him that I would do my best to find out what was happening.

On the way home that afternoon, I looked. There were approximately 70 gajillion leaves between my office and my house, also known as the "2/3 of the property that was deviod of leaves." Big. Fat. Liar!

He came back on Wednesday to ask if I'd found anything out. I explained to him how I had talked to the Landscapers and exactly what I had told him on Monday still stood. He argued with me. I told him, "Look. I talked to the supervisor last night. The bottom line is that I can't explain why you think other yards are cleaner than yours; the fact remains that they aren't doing leaf collection until next Monday."

(PLEASE REALIZE, INTERNET, THAT FALL IS ONLY HALF OVER AND THEY'RE COMPLAINING THAT THERE ARE LEAVES ON THE GROUND!!!) I'm sorry for yelling at you. I am just very frustrated. Pass the tequila, please.

An hour later: Ms. Space Cadet called. When I answered the phone, she let loose a tsunami of words that were meant to state her case, even though I had No Idea who she was and why she may need to defend herself to me. After I got her name, address and complaint, which was an Architectural Violation, I asked her to slow down and gave her the Very Simple answer to her problem: "Your shed in not in compliance because the end of it that faces the street is painted 2 different colors. It needs to be EITHER the color of your side OR the color of your neighbors side. If you have leftover paint, take 5 minutes, go outside, and paint it all one color. Then all of this will all go away."

And then she proceeded to argue with me for 10 minutes about why this was wrong and how she should not be expected to do it. Finally, since there was no more I could do for her, I gave her the instructions to appeal the violation, at which point she said (and I shit you not), "Hey! What if I just get a roller and go out and paint it all my green color? Then it will be ok, right?"

Yes. She actually said those words.

My last call of the day was from "Roger, Angry Man with a Small Penis": He said he was calling from the company that managed the rental property on Blah-Blah Boulevard. He wanted to know what the Architectural Violation on the gate at that address was all about because it was functional. I told him what while it may be 'functional' it was not in compliance with the Association By-Laws because it hadn't been maintained, and was, in fact, ugly. He thought that by increasing his volume and telling me again that the gate was FINE, I would change my mind and agree with him. He was wrong. I gave him the same story I gave Ms. Space Cadet, "If you would like to appeal the decision, send me an email and I will forward it to the Architectural Committee."

He really didn't like that answer. At which point he got rude enough that I should have hung up. But I didn't. Instead, I listened long enough to realize that he was not who he said he was.

"WAIT. If you are not the Owner, and not the Property Manager, who are you?" (Which, in retrospect, may have come out all nasty-like.)

Folks, he was the Contractor. I was on the phone, arguing with a contractor about the gate on a house! "I'm sorry, your Contractor title does not trump my Architectural Committee." I told him to have the Real Property Manager call me and hung up on him.

And THAT was yesterday.

And I went back today.

And YES, I do think I deserve a medal.

Outnumbered Mom

Have you met my sister Alison?

She is my beautiful baby sister, almost 4 years younger. She lives in Indiana, in our hometown, with her husband and 3 baby girls. She is a stay-at-home mom, an exerciser and a scrapbooker, a volunteer and a coffee-cluber. She is a chef and a laundress, a princess wrangler and a financial planner.













She is funny and sassy; she is curious, energetic, and adventurous. She is thoughtful and caring and compassionate. She makes dinners for friends who have babies and will give you clothes and toys, and go buy necessities at Target if you lose your house, along with your wordly possesions in a fire.

When we're together, we make margaritas and gourmet meals. We create jewelry at my mom's kitchen table and share ideas. We cry over Practical Magic and Steel Magnolias, or laugh with The Birdcage. We go to Super-Target, stopping at the Starbucks in the front of the store before wandering around, finding all sorts of great stuff we don't need. We take our girls to the "Library Store" and let them shop while we hit the starbucks counter (see a theme here?).













We drive to Indianapolis and wander the streets of downtown with our Aunt Jacque, stopping at the mall and ... you guessed it! Starbucks.

This super-fun sister of mine decided we don't talk enough because I don't like the phone (for real -she said that- just ask her). But I DO like the computer, and they just added another computer to their house. So. She created a blog called Outnumbered Mom just so we could have contact on a daily basis.

You should go meet her. I think you'll like her.

Her Catch-22

Mac: "You know how they say that the human head weighs 8 pounds?"

Me: "Yes."

"I've always wanted to get down on my knees and weigh it... but then I couldn't see."