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June 28, 2006
i love t-shirts
I'm always looking for funny t-shirts to buy. I never end up buying them but I look anyway.
I was perusing the internet looking for t-shirts the other day, and I do believe I have found grumpy's birthday present. I think I have mentioned in passing that grumpy loves to feed people, especially when his charcoal grill is involved.
I also found a site that had shirts that were completely and utterly wrong, funny as all hell, but so wrong. They even had totally inappropriate shirts for children, which made me cry I laughed so hard. My favorite said - mommy only wanted a back rub.
Posted by bugg at 08:50 PM | Comments (5)
June 24, 2006
end of the line
Thank you for the birthday wishes. I had the best birthday that I've had in a long time. I spent the afternoon with Grumpy, the kids, Big Dave, and Meg at a BBQ competition that Grumpy had entered. We listened to big band music and sat in the shade just hanging out while the boys worked the grill.
Grumpy ended up winning first place in one of the three categories - best tri-tip. Yummy! It was his first time entering and he was up against a few professional teams even. He came in 7th out of 22 overall. I was so happy for him. He loves to cook, especially on the grill.
Then later that night most of our friends came over and we BBQ'd some more and hung out by the pool, playing ping pong and shooting some pool and listening to some 80's music. Mary & Thomas brought over the most amazing ice cream cake I had ever seen or eaten. I got an Ab Fab DVD (loves it) and an I-tunes gift certificate, which goes smashingly well with the IPod grumpy and the kids got me.
Then I spent the week tying up loose ends at work as yesterday was my last day. After 6 and a half years, I walked out the door for the last time. They gave me a cheesecake and champagne send off. I almost made it out the door without crying, until my friend Matt came and hugged me and said he'd miss me. I read the card everyone signed in the car and bawled my eyes out the whole way home. I am so sad about leaving and yet there are things I am looking forward to in our new life in Arizona. So I am getting a little bit excited.
I'm glad to still have a few weeks to go back and go out to lunch with my work friends and I still get to go to the company party on July 14th, which is cool because we are going sailing on a 70' boat out on Puget Sound.
I also had a vendor give me a pair of tickets to a Mariner's game July 24th so I am looking forward to that even if I am not a baseball or Mariner's fan. My dad was a huge baseball fan and I remember loving the Brewers when we lived in Wisconsin because my dad took us to games all the time. Back in the day they had a giant beer mug with a big foamy top out in the outfield. Everytime there was a homerun this guy wearing lederhosen would slide down a slide into the beer mug and a million balloons would come flying out. And I did love going to Cubs games in Chicago but I haven't cared for baseball much since.
I plan on relaxing and having a good time and spending my last weeks here doing the things I love doing most and seeing some of the things I always wanted to see but never got around to in the last 11 years. I'm making a list so I don't forget and I'm taking pictures of everything I can.
Now, I'm going to take the kids and dogs out and go enjoy this beautiful sunny day.
Posted by bugg at 11:42 AM | Comments (4)
June 16, 2006
another day older and deeper in debt
So I turn 35 today. I think I am going to start saying I'm 40 so people will say, "Damn, she looks good!". I mean if I hold steady at 29 much longer people will start thinking I am the most haggard 29 year old out there.
I've decided to start carrying my camera around with me like I used to. I miss taking photos of everything and everyone. I've missed some important memories over the last few years. I want to remember everything.
Posted by bugg at 09:41 AM | Comments (5)
June 15, 2006
tainted love
Every year we have a themed company picnic at the boss man’s house. Every year since I started collecting a paycheck here, I have designed the invitations. The first year, we had a German themed party I found some lovely photos of men in Lederhosen on the internet and then I superimposed the bosses head into one. It got quite the chuckle from everyone so I made it a tradition. Over the years there has been the German, as I mentioned, Mardi Gras, American Gothic, Mexican, African Safari, and Luau. This year, and sadly my last, is cowboy themed.
This is where this entry stems off in two directions.
First, my boss is hysterical and has a sick and wrong sense of humor so we talk about all kinds of inappropriate topics. One morning a male co-worker, myself and boss man were talking about movies and they had both seen Brokeback Mountain that weekend. Boss man and co-worker had made some funny lube jokes which have stuck with me so I decided this year’s cowboy invitation should have boss man and co-worker as the lovestruck cowboys. I have included the photo for your viewing pleasure.
Talking about Brokeback Mountain got Bubble T and I onto the topic of movies you should not ever watch with your parents. If you’ve seen Grandma’s Boy, Porky’s, The 40-year Old Virgin, or even Vacation – you will understand. There are just certain sex scenes and language that are mortifying to sit through with your mom or dad. For us girls, I think it’s even worse watching these movies with your dad.
I know I have seen many movies with my parents over the years that have made me want to melt into the floor and disappear but one particular incident really stands out in my memory. I went to see Titanic in the theater with my dad. Remember the scene where Leo draws Kate nekkid? She’s lounging, sprawled all sexy on the couch and Leo is sharpening his charcoals in sweaty anticipation. Well, my dad who was slightly deaf, elbows me, and says way too loudly for the rest of our fellow moviegoers “Sharpening the old pencil, eh?”
I couldn’t look at him the rest of the movie.
Ew.
Now, I laugh when I think of it but at the time – I wanted to die.
Posted by bugg at 02:00 PM | Comments (3)
June 14, 2006
the queen of Lysol
This morning I was here, reading her tips about moving into a rental property. Since, we are moving in a few short months and last night we got word that we can move into a rental house only one block away from Grumpy’s parents, I figured I should read up and get a little refresher course on being a renter again. I was perusing just fine until I came upon section 3. and one word, a word that sets me off on the crazy train.
Lysol.
Gah!
I can’t even hear that word. It makes me go postal, even after all this time. And God help anyone who sprays that stuff around me. They will come away missing their spraying digit, at the very least.
So here is my tale about the Queen of Lysol.
The summer before my senior year of college I lived in my parent’s house. They had moved away and the house was for empty and for sale so I spent the summer bumming around the beach, partying and having a grand old time with no responsibilities. When school started I was supposed to rent another apartment with my best friend, Kool Mo D, like we had done the year before. But during the summer her parents decided that she should live at home. I spent a few weeks trying to find a place to live. But with only two weeks before school started, the roommate I arranged ending up screwing me over for a friend of hers.
I had to scramble to find a place. Mind you, this was before the internet and cell phones were so handy and affordable so I spent lots of time driving from St. Joe to Kalamazoo and back, reading the paper, and checking posting boards on campus. Finally, I found the perfect roommate. Her name was Shawn. She had a newer two bedroom, 1 bath, with parking, in a quite area, close to campus. We arranged to meet and she seemed perfectly fine, if a tad on the nervous side. I knew we wouldn’t be friends or anything since I didn’t spend much time at home anyway, social butterfly that I was. So I moved in.
From the first moment I should have known something was very, very wrong.
She always, always kept her bedroom door closed.
She avoided human contact, no touching of any kind. I don’t mean anything pervy but an example would be that I tried to hand her the mail and she wouldn’t take it. I had to set it down on the counter and then she would pick it up.
She had rotten food in the fridge – very rotten. I thought there was an eggplant in there but it was really a rotten yellow squash.
Then the real weirdness started. I would be asleep in the morning when she left for work but shortly after I moved in I started to be awakened by strange noises. A hissing sound in a mixture of short spurts and long, long whistling streams would echo through my door.
One morning I got out of bed and opened my door to discover Shawn spraying Lysol all over the place. When she saw me she kind of jumped and ran into her room and closed the door.
I heard it every morning in the same sound pattern without fail. Then it progressively got worse and worse. I spent less and less time at home.
One day I realized that all my plants had died.
I noticed you could smell the Lysol in the hallways outside of our apartment.
Then I realized the pervasive smell of Lysol was making me sick.
Then I realized that you could taste the Lysol in the air.
Then I met my next door neighbor, who was in one of my classes and she mentioned the weird smell and then I noticed that the linoleum in their apartment was white, while ours was a strange yellow color.
I heard the sound of the spray more and more.
One day I found a stream of ants coming into my bedroom and I followed them out into the hall. They were coming our from under her bedroom door. She wasn’t home so I opened her door to try to figure out what the hell was going on in there.
It was like a dumping ground.
There was no furniture. Only an air mattress with no air and a small tv sitting on top of a BOX – yes, a whole “I got it at Costco” box of Lysol. There were piles and piles of clothes and garbage and plates, and food, and used feminine hygiene products. There wasn’t a spot in the whole room that was free of garbage and mess. I almost threw up from the smell and the overwhelming anxiety and panic that came over me. I couldn’t fathom what could possible be wrong with this girl. I sat and waited for her to get home from work.
I about jumped on her the moment she walked in the door. I was screaming and hysterical. It when then that I first heard the term OCD. Untreated OCD.
She was all messed up. As a child, Shawn’s drug addicted mother beat her and her sister if they didn’t wash the dishes the right way and that’s how it started. She would get so nervous that she didn’t scrub around the bowl the required number of times that she would just keep going and not be able to stop.
As an adult she worked as an occupational therapist and she worked with Ryan White. This was before they knew as much about how AIDS is transmitted. Afraid that she might get AIDS she started washing her hands compulsively and scrubbing them until she bled. She was eventually fired and her OCD went out of control.
After I confronted her she let her guard down and didn’t even try to hide her crazy OCD from me. So I witnessed the madness first hand.
She had a thing about being dirty so she couldn’t touch anything clean if she hadn’t showered yet and she couldn’t touch anything dirty if she had showered. Think about that one for a minute and see if you don’t go nuts. Seriously, think about getting out of bed and getting ready in the morning, and cooking and going to work, and at what point even after you have showered do you consider yourself dirty again?
She sprayed everything she touched with Lysol. Everything, the phone, the tub and shower, the sink, mail, the refrigerator and kitchen counters, clothes she was wearing not to mention her laundry, which was amazing to watch. She had to put the dirty laundry in the wash before she showered then she had to shower before it went in the dryer. She sprayed the whole pile down with Lysol before heading to the laundry room she sprayed the door knobs, the hallway the inside and outside of the washer and dryer, then she sprayed the whole thing down again once she was down.
In response to her craziness, I developed my own form of OCD. I became a perpetual scrubber. I constantly scrubbed everything down to get the taste, smell and sticky Lysol residue off of everything. I was whacked out and I started getting irrationally angry when I heard the sound of any type of spray can and the smell of Lysol made me so angry and sick that I would throw up. I started referring to her as Sssssssshawn – like the sound of the spray can. I finally was able to break my lease and move out before I went completely mental.
But as you can see, even now, 14 years later the mere mention of the “L Word” set me off. God, my head is pounding just from reliving that again.
The moral of this whole story - Lysol bad, make Bugg crazy.
Posted by bugg at 02:47 PM | Comments (2)
June 13, 2006
Karaoprah
Don't get me wrong; I really do like Oprah. I think that she does an amazing amount of work to help, inspire, and empower people. She has helped people rebuild their lives, and given hope and even homes to those who have lost everything.
I know you sense a but coming. So, here goes.
But, there is something that drives me bat shit crazy about the woman.
I absolutely hate when she has musical guests on her show because it never fails that the following will occur:
First, her set, makeup, and outfit will be all glammed and glitzied, with Oprah donning some sort of sparkly outfit. Fine, whatever.
But the gag inducing moment that just kills me every stinking time is that inevitably the camera will pan to Oprah, usually no less than four times, as she sits front row center, singing her heart out. There is only one problem. She never knows the damn words. She’s always swaying, clapping, crying, or some combination of all three, but the lips are never right on with the words. She does try her darndest to be somewhere in the ball park with the lyrics but she’s always wrong, wrong, wrong.
Either her assistant needs to make sure O knows the words or the cameramen need to be told not to pan over to her unless it is during an instrumental.
Okay, I feel better now. Sort of.
Posted by bugg at 05:02 PM | Comments (2)
June 11, 2006
progress
Churchy rolled over from his back to his tummy on Thursday night. Whee! He scared himself in the process and made himself cry. It was pretty funny.
We're off later this afternoon to watch Meloknee play softball again. Finally the sun is out!
Here's an update I haven't shared with too many people yet.
I have only two weeks left at my job. After 6 and a half years, I gave my notice. I cried my eyes out. It will be so hard to leave my job. I love the people I work with and they have been my family but Grumpy and I decided that we need to be near our real family, especially now that we have two kids, and Little Bear with special needs. It has been extraordinarily hard to be without family and none of our friends here have kids so we don't really have any interaction that way. We can't really go out because we have no one to leave them with. We have wonderful friends here, but we just don't get to see them that often, so we've been feeling lonely and isolated.
Seattle, is an expensive place to live as well. We need a bigger house and we just can't afford one here, especially one that we need to make ADA accessible.
So anyway, after many discussions and several years of going back and forth we have decided that we are going to move to Arizona to be near Grumpy's family. We don't want to leave this beautiful place but it is in the best interest of our children, and that is all that matters to us. It will be hard to leave after 11 years and so many memories. This is the longest I have ever lived anywhere. Seattle, is the most home I have ever felt anywhere. I finally found a place where I felt like I fit in. It is where I met Grumpy and had my babies and had the happiest and saddest moments of my life so far. After I finish my two weeks at work we will spend the rest of the summer enjoying our time off, packing everything up and getting the house ready to sell. We leave for Phoenix the last week of August.
I am trying to be positive though and look for the good things that will be in Arizona (or Satan's asshole as we like to call it). It is always hard to start over again. I felt he same sadness when I left K-zoo. At least, I won't have to live in fear of giant earthquakes anymore, one big one was plenty for me. Now I will only have to fear black widow spiders, snakes, scorpions, republicans and country music!
Posted by bugg at 12:09 PM | Comments (9)
June 08, 2006
soft spot
Anyone who knows me knows that I can’t stand seeing animals hurt, in pain or die. I don’t even like to hear stories about it. Hell, I refuse to watch Dumbo, Bambi, Milo & Otis - or any of those other animal movies that make me cry. And shut up, yes I know they are cartoons and movies. Yes, I know it is irrational. And yes, I feel bad when I move and I have to put my stuffed animals (okay I still have stuffed animals, don’t make me hurt you) into boxes.
This morning when I was walking the doggies, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Tico sniffing at something. Unlike most Chihuahuas, Tico like to roll in the poo so I have to keep my eyes on him. He appeared to be sniffing a dead bird so I sent the dogs into the house and figured I had better dispose of the poor thing. I walked over to assess the situation and discovered that the bird, a small finch, was not dead at all. I think it may have flown into a window and was stunned and trying to recover. I hope that was the problem anyway. The poor little sweetie wasn’t really moving around and it was breathing heavily. I freaked out. I didn’t want to hurt it by picking it up and I didn’t want to leave it there to possibly be eaten by neighborhood cats. I was at this point going to be late for work. I almost started crying. I had to leave it there.
Thankfully, Grumpy understands what an animal freak I am so I called him after I got to work and he promised to go check on the little birdie and see how it was doing. He said he’d help me collect it and take it to the vet too if it was still there when I get home from work. Still, I have been useless here all day at work because all I can think about is that poor helpless little bird and those little eyes staring up me in terror. I’m sure Tico sniffing it, probably gave the little guy a heart attack.
Most of you are thinking but it’s just a bird but you don’t understand what a fool I am for animals and children. Anything helpless that needs my protection and I am there, all fierce and ready to save the day.
Posted by bugg at 12:19 PM | Comments (4)
June 02, 2006
druuuuunk
Another one for Mona:
When I was just a youngster, a mere twenty years old, I went out for a night on the town with my best friend, Kool Mo D, and her friend, Deb. We decided to partake of the cheesy bar tour of Kalamazoo.
It started off well enough. We decided to start on the edges of town and work our way back toward campus. We hit some small bars out by the airport, then moved to a bar that three, young, white girls should have never been in, (think the bar from Weird Science – DRINK IT!) except that I had worked a telemarketing job with a wonderful gal named Tammy, who was an ex addict/hooker and happened to be a regular at aforementioned bar. We had a lovely time there.
This is where things start to become hazy for me. Some of the events I remember like I am watching a movie and some I only remember because Kool Mo D was kind enough to tell me all about it.
For some reason I don’t recall, we happened to have in our possession, a plastic cucumber. Don’t ask, it wasn’t mine. But we proceeded to take it with us into this bar and I believed that everyone would find it hilarious if I dropped it in their drink as I passed by their table. Surprisingly, not everyone I did that too was amused so Deb and KMD quickly got me positioned at the bar where they and our cute bartender, Kirby, could keep an eye on me. The details are foggy but I do know that I thought our conversation was funny enough to be recorded for posterity. To this day, I have a stack of bar napkins with all kinds of obscure conversation fragments scrawled in drunken script. I keep in my trunk with all other important mementos. Oh my god, I just remembered!!! The cucumber was a pen!!!!! Wow, I had totally forgotten that until I just realized I used the cucumber to write down all that crazy shit.
Anyway, as I mentioned - the bartender, Kirby, was not too bad looking and I recall many a sexual innuendos being thrown at the poor guy in reference to Kirby vacuums. I’ll let you come up with your own. He took it quite well and continued to serve us the liquor. Many Tom Collins after many beers is NOT a good idea.
At one point Kirby asked my name and I said (and wrote on a napkin) “I’m so drunk, I don’t know who my name is.” With that Kirby decided we should not drink anymore, lest one of the other bar patrons kill us for being so loud, druuuunk, and admittedly obnoxious. That is also when I fell backwards off of my bar stool. While I picked myself up off the floor and gathered my stack o’ napkins, KMD and Deb headed for the door. I made a wrong turn and ended up in a little room with a phone and for the life of me couldn’t find my way back out (one door, no windows and maybe 30 sf – go figure) until KMD came back to find me.
I insisted on sitting in the front seat. So I could puke easily if needed. I am nothing if not polite! I recall having the seat reclined as far back as it would go and I recall staring at a cops face as we sat next to him at a stop light. Deb was freaking out that he might pull us over which he probably should have because I’m pretty sure Deb was throttled as well.
We finally made it back to my apartment. Deb and KMD decided to come up and sober up for a bit before heading home. KMD and I literally crawled through the parking lot giggling like crazy fools. I finally got up and turned to say “Come on D, let’s go”, when I walked square into a brick wall and scuffed myself up pretty good.
For some reason when I finally made it up the three flights of staira, I felt compelled to knock on my neighbor’s door and then I proceeded to fall on my face at his feet. I lost my watch and had to retrieve it from him with my head hung in shame two days later. I apparently just wanted to say hi then I announced that I had to pee. I left his apartment, stumbled into my own, and almost fell over into the tub pulling down my pants.
I then came out into the living room with my pants down around my ankles and announced, “I am very tired and I am going to bed, so get out.”
I woke with the spins at six the next morning, face down on my bed with my pants still around my ankles. I did not move out of my bed the rest of the day unless it was to throw up.
Posted by bugg at 01:41 PM | Comments (5)
June 01, 2006
like a crack ho
I am becoming addicted to myspace.... sick sick sick. I blame you Meloknee!
Posted by bugg at 03:45 PM | Comments (2)
you asked for it, you got it
Mona commented that she would like to hear more about my flashing/mooning story so here goes. I fear you will be sorely disappointed and sorry that you didn’t instead ask to hear about the night I blacked out from drinking, a story that surely would make my mother proud. Certainly, you would be more enthralled with hearing about one of my many fist fights. But since you asked here goes…
First I have to assure you that I am not a mooner. I‘ve never felt comfortable enough with the junk in my trunk to be showing it off. I have body image issues and even back in the day when the whole package was lean and mean, I thought I was fat. Thanks wherever you are to Scott Krieger, jackass.
Anyway when I was 25 or 26 I overcame many of my body issues and was feeling pretty darn good about the way things were looking. Jennifer Lopez made it ok for me to like my butt, who knew!! But I got semi-dumped by a semi-boyfriend and went a little wild. I cut off all my hair and got another piercing (below the neck, above the belly button).
It made me nuts! Seriously, I felt pretty damn cool, miss thang that I thought I was. Almost everywhere I went I flashed everyone and their mother, whether they wanted to see it or not. I was being a big damn show off about it. I was an ass.
Half of Seattle has seen my boobies now.
And yet, now I would be too embarrassed to breast feed in public…
Sorry to disappoint you Mona, I know you were hoping for something really meaty. I feel ashamed.
Posted by bugg at 02:01 PM | Comments (1)