The aftermath

How many teaspoons can two grown adults use in barely 24 hours?

If you're my in-laws, the answer is 16. SIXTEEN. Considering that their menu consisted of chicken nuggets, tater tots, and Hamburger Helper, I have no idea how they used that many spoons.

Monkey Man has decided that they suck because they apparently ate all his Chewy Chips Ahoy cookies last night after he went to bed.

Rufus thinks they suck because they wouldn't give him any table scraps and my father-in-law is always trying to pet him. At this point, I think Rufus enjoys torturing my father-in-law by sitting *just* beyond his reach and then scooting away as my father-in-law inches closer. He doesn't move very quickly so it gives Rufus ample opportunity to scootch a few inches and then look back with a shit-eating grin.

*****

The wine expo was fun, but damn was it crowded. We noticed a definite lack in staffing at each of the booths, so the people weren't flowing through the expo as smoothly as they did last year. After about four hours fighting the crowds only to get small sips of wine, we ended up back at the hotel bar having drinks and a few appetizers. I think next year we'll try the Friday night event - the cost is steep, but the crowd is much smaller and you actually get to taste the wine versus standing in a crowd 20-deep and hoping to get a small dribble in your glass.

We met downstairs in the lobby to go out to dinner and soon discovered that a new sport could be "Drunk Walking Through the Marriott Lobby". The women were hilarious...teetering dangerously in heels, usually carrying a few boxes of wine and they would teeter dangerously as they wove toward the elevators. Watch out for that.....corner.....aw, another one down!

Dinner at Juleps was amazing as usual. We took a short walk down to Havana '59 for a nightcap and ended up back at the hotel just in time to catch the Hokies' upset of #1 Duke. There were a lot of happy and unhappy people in the hotel bar. We ended up heading to the room with plans of an early checkout so we could get home at a decent hour.

Sleep was elusive, to say the least. We had a wedding party staying on our hall - they showed up loud and drunk around 11:30 and mercifully only changed clothes and banged doors a few times before they disappeared again. I never heard them come back.

What did happen was the worst case of heartburn and acid reflux ever. The only thing that kept me from throwing up was the thought of losing that wonderful dinner to the sewer system of Richmond. Especially after daydreaming about Bananas Foster for the past two months. Oh, but I was miserable...I think I finally fell into a restful sleep around 4 AM when I configured some pillows to elevate my head and therefore keep the acid located somewhere right above my heart.

As it turned out, I know Joey and our friends Wendi and Gerry also had the same issue last night. Was it mixing the wine and liquor? I thought it was beer then liquor, never sicker...where does wine factor in to all that? Unhhhh.

We got home to find my in-laws ensconced at the kitchen table. Father-in-law was airing out his arm - apparently he fell out of the chair in their living room and banged up his arm and he is allergic to Neosporin, but instead of calling the doctor to see what he could use he proceeded to put his own home remedies all over his arm and made it worse.

Did I ever tell y'all about their dog Odie? Poor Odie was a chocolate lab and the sweetest dog. Well, he got some kind of spot on his tail that I think was probably a spider bite. My father-in-law's mother was some kind of country "doctor" or medicine woman I guess, and she had taught him how to mix up all kinds of salves and stuff to cure everything. He mixed up a batch of this horrid looking yellow gunk and liberally applied it to poor Odie's tail.

His tail fell off, and then Odie died.

I have made Joey swear to me that he will never, EVER let my father-in-law apply any sort of potion, lotion, salve, or cure to anyone in our immediate family.

Odie, dude, I'm sorry you had to take the bullet for the team, but I don't want my tail falling off.

Wine is fine

Somehow, the gods are smiling on me tonight. Not only did my son win the Veggie Car Derby for the third grade today (don't ask), but he and Joey are at the big monster truck show. And I am not.

For two consecutive Mother's Day weekends, I ended up at the big monster truck show at the beach. It might sound like heaven, but it seems like every time we've done that it's unseasonably cold or it rains and we end up on metal bleachers freezing to death and getting sand in our teeth. Not exactly my idea of properly exfoliating - I'd rather be in a spa rather than sitting on bleachers watching women go by in tube tops with breasts so saggy they're smuggling fifths of liquor in under each one. I get a little jealous because I can only do a pint at this point in my life.

I settled in tonight with a wonderful bottle of cabernet sauvignon. Priming my liver for the big wine expo this weekend. Last year, I think I was drunk by 1 PM but kept rolling until 4...took a nap, went to dinner, and was drunk again by 8. Needless to say, I am hoping this year to just maintain a nice warm and fuzzy feeling versus going into a coma at 4:30 and waking up at 6 to discover everyone is waiting on me and my mascara is somewhere around my chin.

The out-laws are coming into town tomorrow to babysit. My friend Heather said on IM last night, "Yay! Free Babysitting!" to which I replied, "Oh no, it's not free - there's a cost. MY SOUL."

The last time they were here, you might recall, my father-in-law lectured everyone at Christmas dinner how men need to eat more turkey to make their sex lives better. Good information that every 9-year-old boy needs to know. I can only imagine what sorts of wisdom he will impart this time without us to filter. I am already daydreaming about the phone call I could conceivably get from the principal next week.

I am counting down the days until we bring Big Nick home. Oh, did I mention that after nagging for 3 years that Joey decided we need new carpet? Mmm hmm. I never said he was the practical one, did I? New puppy + new carpet = WTF were you thinking?

Have a lovely, lovely Saturday. Hug the ones you love.

My sweet, precious boy. And tequila!

I have a sneaking suspicion that this week will give me a renewed respect for single parents.

Last week, Joey called me and asked if it would be okay for him to head down to Florida for a few days.  Some kind of fancy-schmancy golf school that his largest manufacturer has invited him to attend on his dime.  And like his guitar playing, his golf game could definitely use some improvement - not to mention this is a great opportunity to do a little networking with some other companies in the same league but different parts of the US and Canada to see what the market is doing.  So I said fine.  And I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say he had a look of glee in his eye as he was loading up his clubs in the Pimp Mobile today.  Not at all.

Monkey Man is your typical 7-year old boy.  If his head wasn't attached to his body via his neck, he'd probably have left it behind at least a million times.  And that's a low estimate.  Tonight, we got home from dinner and I asked him to go ahead and take his bath.  I followed him upstairs to monitor the starting of the water and also putting the stopper down (he is infamous for forgetting while hundreds of gallons of water go gushing down the drain while he is picking toe fuzz out from between his toes), and then told him to make sure he turned the water off.  I headed downstairs to change clothes, got a phone call, and then I suddenly noticed that I could still hear water running.  And running.  And running.  I went back upstairs to discover my kid - who was supposed to be on the toilet taking a dump but instead was reenacting some sort of music video while bouncing up and down on the toilet seat - while the bathtub was probably only two inches from overflowing.

It's gonna be a loooong four days.  Good thing we have Xanax and bourbon.

*****

This past weekend we made a surprise trip up to Baltimore for a surprise birthday party for Heather (Mama Maven).  Unfortunately, some poor kid let the cat out of the bag the evening before, so she knew there was a party but thankfully was unaware that we were coming along with her childhood friend Sheri.  

Scott (G-Man) and all of their friends did a great job planning the party, and I have to say that they really have a fantastic group of friends.  There was one slight hiccup to the evening, namely when one of the attendees that we were introduced to actually realized I was Builder Mama.  I think my face turned about twenty shades of red and purple, because all I could think was that the poor guy was probably recalling Scott's tale of my Vegas proposition in the elevator.  Not really something you want church-going folks to know when they meet you for the first time, ahem.  Thankfully, I was not cast out of the house and we got to enjoy some great company as well as chocolate!  and tequila!  Life doesn't get much better than that.  

We also got to see one of my favorite PIM's, Christina, and her great family for a very late lunch on Saturday after we fought our way through the aquarium.  Her son and Monkey Man instantly hit it off, while I got to enjoy some quality bouncing time with her adorable daughter.  And did I mention that Christina gives the best hugs ever?  Yup.

It was a great, fun weekend.  And I think Joey and I realized that maybe we, too, could find a church home where people drink tequila.  

When karma and sleeplessness collide

On Thursday, after the unpleasant Badass drama of Wednesday, I came in to work to find out that EPOD was scheduled to be out of the office all day. It was at that point, or really at lunchtime, that I decided to do what any good employee would do. I took two of my friends to lunch and we polished off two pitchers of sangria.

We laughed, we giggled, and had a really, really nice time. I finally relaxed for the first time last week since Heather and I chilled out Saturday night with some vino. It was nice to just have my girls with me.

While we were waiting for the check, I noticed that my throat was really starting to hurt. Hurt as in "pain of a thousand flaming swords stabbing my throat repeatedly." I shrugged it off as possibly being very dry and hot in the restaurant, and we headed back to work.

As we pulled back in the parking lot, I noticed that EPOD's car was back. SHIT. I went slinking back to my office and after dropping my purse off, went into the restroom and proceeded to gargle as much citrus-flavored mouthwash as I could, put some Visine in my eyes, and then sprayed myself all over with stinky hairspray. I went back into my office and shut the door quietly, and then pounced on my Blackberry...

Me to Cat Door: "Great news, cat scan is normal, went out at lunch and got drunk. Is that wrong?"

Cat Door to me: "I thought you did that every day."

Yeah. Not so much. So after about an hour, I finally was summoned to EPOD's office to review some reports with him and I managed to keep my shit together. The buzz had worn off and I was just back to my usual goofy self.

Note to self: Catching a buzz at lunchtime on Thursday is not a good idea. Catching a buzz at lunchtime on Thursday and having your boss show up unexpectedly and then trying to hide it is guaranteed bad karma.

By the time I got home Thursday, my throat was really hurting. Like worse than the flaming swords. So I brewed a whole pot of green tea and guzzled it down, popped some Motrin, and then crawled into bed as soon as Monkey Man went to bed.

Friday arrived and I felt better. Or at least in the morning I did - at lunchtime I went and met Cat Door downtown for lunch and felt just fine. By the late afternoon, I was feeling like pure death and decided that throat lozenges were only going to prolong the agony without actually solving anything. I drove straight to the urgent care place, was in and out in 20 minutes with a diagnosis of an upper respiratory infection in the very early stages. So early that if I hadn't had my usual doctor, they probably would've sent me home with nothing but the "it's only a virus" speech. After hearing my tales of woe about my eight sleepless weeks, he hooked me up with some antibiotics without question and sent me on home.

So I've been laying kind of low - other than a trip to WalMart and hauling Monkey Man to a birthday party complete with petting zoo, I have been in bed watching lots of Real Housewives episodes. Joey has disappeared to Bleaksburg to watch his beloved Hokies and with a 5:30 game time, it will be really, really late when he comes home. And if he wakes me up, I will kill him. Period.

I actually do feel better. I think/hope I caught it early enough to keep it from moving into my chest. And I have really rested today. And I have been taking Tylenol Multi-Symptom Cold - normally I eschew such things, but this time I am determined not to be miserable and therefore make everyone around me miserable. I need to kick this thing before my parents come, because the last thing my dad needs is to catch some crud from yours truly.

*****

I decided to accept Amy's friend request. She posted on my wall right away, I replied back and asked if she's coming into town during the holidays.

Maybe we can meet for coffee or something. I'm throwing the olive branch out there, so we'll see what happens from here.

Long week of nothing in particular

Where did this week go?

It's been a very strange week. Highlights as follows:

*EPOD has been on the warpath all week, to the point where Chachi has even lost his patience with the bad attitude. "I feel like I should just go ahead and put a loaded handgun on his desk so he can get it over with already," snarled Chachi. Ouch. You know when Boy Wonder starts snarling, it's bad. Really bad.
*I had a dime-sized patch of precancerous skin frozen off my cheekbone on Tuesday. The good news is like the one I had taken off my nose last fall it should heal up nicely. Dr. K was her normal non-bedside-manner self and I think she was even cackling under her breath as I squirmed with the pain of having that stuff burning my face. She is evil, pure evil.
*My parents are coming on Sunday. My dad is receiving an award for his service in World War II and the Korean War. More on this over the weekend, because I have been just in knots over the whole thing.
*Joey has been, well, cranky. The local construction market is slowing down and that makes a crabby husband. Apparently this is a rampant problem, since Debbie whispered to me at dinner last night that Harper has been a total bastard too. Interesting.
*I am taking next Monday off work to take my mother shopping for clothes. Kill me now.

Today's mathematical equation was:

1 Builder Mama + 5 Pomegranate Martinis = 1 Big Fat Head + 1 Upset Stomach

Not pretty. I should know better to do that on a Wednesday, wait until Thursday so you only have to work ONE day hungover, right? Gah, I'm such an amateur.

And I am telling you right now...if the damn dog doesn't stop barking at leaves blowing, I'm going to develop a marketing campaign for "Corgi...The Other White Meat." Jesus.

Bring on the weekend!

Moms gone wild...with minivans

Saturday night is Girls' Night Out for the Badasses. And we have decided to split ourselves into two groups - Those Who Want To Stay Out All Night and Probably Vomit On The Street Before We Call It A Night, and then there are Those Who Would Like to Stay Out Late But Realize That Late Is Now 10 PM and We Probably Won't Make it That Long Since Our Kids Never Sleep.

I'm not sure which group I'm going to fall into. Yet. And honestly, how wild can a group of women in a minivan and a Pacifica get? I'm just sayin'.

There has been a lot of drama surrounding this event. First of all, my least favorite Badass, Candy, decided that she was going to plan this month's get together. Which is fine, however she is notorious for bailing out at the last minute so of course there's the risk of letting her pick the place and getting stuck there while she's cozy at home with the hubby, kids, and some takeout from Outback.

Candy has this unnatural obsession with one of the other Badasses, Shannon. Don't get me wrong, Shannon is a cool chick but she's kind of wild. Shannon also recently separated from her husband so if Candy's usual pattern holds true, her husband probably ought to start picking up some Apartment Finder guides if you catch my drift. She copies EVERYTHING that Shannon does, right or wrong.

So she sent out this group email announcing that she wanted to have the dinner at this restaurant that's fairly well-known in the area. It's a French restaurant - I hear the brunch is fantastic, but dinner tends to be a little on the foo-foo side which probably wouldn't bode well for this crew that survives mostly on hummus and vodka. Thankfully, one of the BA's spoke up in an email and said that perhaps we should rethink the restaurant choice and she put a link to the menu on her email.

Ooh. Big Mistake. Candy got really defensive and decided she needed to "reply to all" (side note: another pet peeve of mine is this whole crowd does "reply to all" for every freaking stupid email possible and it makes me NUTS) and say that she picked the restaurant because SHANNON THE ALMIGHTY had been there before.

To which Shannon replied, "Have been there, food is okay but very overpriced."

Ouch. So Candy tucked tail and decided to switch it to another place, a Cuban restaurant. Where I've gotten food poisoning before, but I decided to just let the chips fall where they may and if nothing else, I'll eat the bread basket for dinner. You know, carb-loading in case I decide to be one of the ones puking in the gutter.

And I have this fine set of car keys, will anyone give me $200?

Last night was the long-awaited charity auction for Joey's Rotary club. Had I mentioned that Joey was actually put in charge of said auction? So it has been four months of bitching, whining, and general dread lingering around him like Pigpen's cloud of dirt.

Part of what I like about Rotary is that it's a way to give back to the community in very specific ways. Last year, they did the auction for the first time and raised over $45,000 for the burn unit at the big trauma center downtown. This year the charity of choice is a bereavement camp for kids - one of the few in the nation - that does amazing work with kids who have lost someone special in their lives. Parents. Grandparents. Siblings. Friends. This camp helps them heal and become kids again. The story that was shared last night was about a kid they have been helping who was stabbed by his own father as he tried to protect his mother - who ended up being stabbed over thirty times by the father and she passed away. Some of these kids have been privy to unspeakable horrors, and anything that can be done to return a sense of normalcy to their lives is okay in my book. So we were totally on board for this charity.

Well, not so much for the rest of the club. I guess it's twofold - first, they did a charity auction last year as a fundraiser, and it probably would've been better to do something different like a gala or a casino night. Doing the same fundraiser two years in a row doesn't work for this crowd, and Joey tried to raise that issue in the initial stages but was outvoted. The other issue is that no one was spending big bucks last night like the year before. Maybe it's the downturn in the economy. Maybe people didn't like the items that were being auctioned. And maybe people just weren't in the mood...there were a lot of empty seats despite the fact that the event was sold out and we had a waiting list for tickets. This flu bug sweeping the city eliminated all six of our guests last night, and who knows who else.

But it was all good. Joey and his committee did a great job organizing it all. The food was wonderful. They had open bar. The prizes were pretty darn good - although not as great as last year because we didn't get some of the "wow" prizes like trips to Cabo or airline tickets to anywhere in the continental U.S. People just weren't giving that stuff up this year.

I suspect that they raised about $40,000 this year. Maybe less. Joey and I ended up being the big winners of the night by winning a beach house rental just north of Hatteras, right on the ocean, for a week. Five bedrooms. With pool. On the ocean. The guy that owns the place is a gazillionaire and we hear the place is suh-weet...and if I have any prayers whatsoever of ever having a "week at the beach" with Joey and Monkey Man, it's gonna have to be a place like this. Joey hates, hates, hates the beach. Maybe he won't hate it so much if we have a cool crib to stay in. Anyhow, I got into a bidding war against another woman at the auction and I think we turned more than a few guys on. Yeah, I ended up with a lot of business cards last night, those silly bastards.

Oh, and we auctioned off someone's car keys. For $450. That'll teach that guy to leave his keys up on the silent auction tables. Ahem.

Anyhow, we are so relieved that it is all finally over - Joey because it's a culmination of four months of torture, and me because I'm relieved to be free of the bitching.

*****

Tonight is Badass Girls' Night Out. And after last weekend's guy night, they will be lucky if we come home before dawn. Richmond, watch out!

The bitch is back

Um, yeah. I'm back.

It's been an interesting few weeks. I find that sometimes when life gets a little bit overwhelming for me that I tend to be like a turtle and pop my head into my shell and stay there for a bit until I feel like it's okay to come out again. It drives my mother absolutely bonkers, but honestly sometimes (especially with our relationship) it's easier for me to avoid her for a week or so just to avoid having every aspect of my life dissected and criticized.

It's not like I've ever felt that way here. Quite the contrary, this is one of the few places where I can pretty much be myself - the good, the bad, and the ugly. Of course, there are a few things that I keep to myself because honestly, Internets, you don't need to know everything there is about me do you? I mean, aren't discussions of skanky hoo-ha enough for you people?

So in the interest of not boring you to death, I'll hit you with a few highlights of the past few weeks. Kind of a Cliff Notes version of Builder Mama's world.

1. The trip to the Homestead was lovely, but note to self: When traveling there in the wintertime, remember to pack ski clothing or you will be bored to death. Honestly, there are only so many Ann Rule anthologies a girl can take without wanting to shoot someone.

2. Monkey Man survived his trip to the motocross show with Cat Door M. And brought home the most hideous black and yellow motocross jersey that I have had to literally peel off of him in order to wash it. And I believe that Cat Door led Monkey Man and his nephew Isaac in a big burping contest, but I can't definitely confirm this.

3. We went to a wedding reception last weekend. The bride spilled an entire cosmo down the front of my dress. Malcolm got drunk and got us cut off at the restaurant where we had dinner. I am starting to think that we need to find other people to have dinner with, not to mention we are running out of restaurants in the city where we can eat without a disguise.

4. I have been fighting off a cold going on two weeks now. I will feel like shit for a day, then fabulous for a day, then back to shit. Antibiotics didn't really help so I'm just plodding along. My average bedtime over the last two weeks has been somewhere around 8:17 PM. Please note that I am responsible for getting Monkey Man in bed at 8:30 every night so I'm not exactly sure how he's getting himself up there but hey, he eventually ends up there.

5. Work, well, I'm not even going there. Let's just say that it's 37.5 hours a week of my life that I'll never get back.

6. We finally got our January cut of our company's money and therefore the bathroom renovation will finally be starting. The main goals will be to get a new bathroom, not to get divorced, and not to kill Cat Door. And if I do, to manage to get bail quickly.

7. We are headed to Vegas on February 20th. (And hey, Joansy, I tried emailing you but I think I have an old address...can you drop me an email at buildermama@gmail.com so we can try and hook up for a drink or maybe lunch?) David and Yvonne are headed out there with us, Malcolm and Paula are joining us later. I've been the busy little travel agent planning dinners, shows, and cool stuff to do when we're not hitting it big in the casino. I have been dreaming of running naked through the Palazzo, is that wrong?

8. I finally succumbed to the charms of the Blackberry. Damn it all. I am hooked. Anything that lets you look at porn in your car is all right with me. Not to mention texting while I'm on the treadmill.

9. I signed up for the 10K training team with the YMCA. Our first run was last Saturday. 8 AM. 27 degrees outside. Let's just say it wasn't one of my most attractive moments, as I noticed the frozen streaks of snot on my face when I got in the car. How hot is that?

And about a million other things have happened too. Nothing exciting, nothing horrible, just life.

So I'm back. And thanks for hanging in there while I got my head straightened back out. Well, when I say "straightened out" I just mean "slightly deranged".

Ringing in the new year

How is it that almost everyone you talk to (and I guess this would be a girl thing, please confirm this GMan, resident male) has this expectation that New Year's Eve will be this magical, life-changing moment? I think Mitzi said it best - we're looking for that When Harry Met Sally moment.

Um, me, not so much. I've always been pretty much a homebody on New Year's Eve, mostly because I'm not much of a night owl nor do I relish the thought of being out on the road with all those drunk folks. Like myself. I much prefer to be the one drooling in the corner, cradling my bottle of Maker's Mark and cooing to it like a baby.

This year we had the crew over - Badasses, David and Yvonne, Cat Door and the Mrs. It all went fine, Joey and I had worked ourselves to death for days prior trying to whip the house back into shape so by yesterday I was already whooped.

And then, it happened. I apparently ate something at lunch yesterday that didn't quite agree with the old tum-tum and spent the rest of the afternoon rushing to the restroom at work and praying that Chachi wouldn't notice the pleasant stench wafting out from underneath the ladies' room door. It was bad.

A few Immodiums later (which I want to know why it hasn't received something like the Nobel Peace Prize for being one of the most awesome over-the-counter medicines EVER) and I was finally not afraid of sharting myself. By this point, though, I really didn't quite feel like myself and only had two drinks all night. I know. Contain your astonishment, because this won't happen again anytime soon.

The kids were wild last night. We had one 1-year old, two 3-year old girls, and four 6-year old boys that acted like a bunch of wild banshees. At one point I swear I thought they were going to come busting through the ceiling of our foyer, which conveniently happens to be underneath Monkey Man's playroom. And I think at one point they were flushing things down the toilet too. I was too scared to go up there and find out.

We did an early "midnight" for the kids with hats, leis and noisemakers around 9, and the last of the Badasses left at 10. David and Yvonne left at 11, and Cat Door and the Mrs. were gone by 11:30.

Sigh. We are old.

No dramatics, everyone was on good behavior, and we had a crapload of food left over. We seriously had enough food to feed half the county. Note to self, friends love shrimp, not so much on the beef. Kind of odd.

On the good side, I was able to get everything washed up and put away for the most part - the rest can be done either today or this weekend (as far as putting the folding table away, stuff like that). I finished up in time to ring in the new year with my two favorite boys, and one cowering dog who was significantly freaked out by the fireworks being shot off by the neighbors.

On the bad side, I was wide awake at 5:15 AM and haven't been able to go back to sleep. I am hoping for a great nap this afternoon. Hoping.

2007 wasn't a bad year. Not at all. As a matter of fact, it might just go on record as being one of the better years. My dad got better. We developed new friendships. The business is doing great. We made it to our 11th anniversary, still crazy about each other 99.9% of the time. And we have the most awesome, amazing kid ever. We're lucky. I'm lucky.

So here's to 2008. I wish each and every one of you all the happiness and love that you deserve! And if it involves bourbon, count me in too.

Abandon all hope, ye who enter the Christmas party

Yesterday was off the hook - we had errands to run, we had a Forced In-Law Interaction, and I wrapped presents and assembled Joey's gift until about midnight last night. And that doesn't even include all the drama that bled over from Saturday night's Christmas party.

As a little background, there is this guy that works for Joey and Malcolm named Al. Al is their service salesguy - he sells contracts to people for maintenance and repairs on their building. Al is also a humongous pain in the ass. Seriously, people - he acts either like he's on the rag or a huge drama queen all the damn time. Not to mention that he cheats on his wife constantly and is also a Class A Liar. The guy wouldn't know the truth if it bit him on the ass, either personally or professionally. Thankfully a year ago Malcolm moved Al out of the Richmond office and down to our Norfolk office and the daily drama dissipated.

Al is married to Jennifer. Jennifer is a trainwreck and a half. She makes Malcolm's wife Paula, who I've complained about here numerous times, look like a class act.

Two years ago, Malcolm hosted a big dinner party at one of the city's best restaurants - it was a joint venture with our friend David's company since we all do business together. Things went along pretty nicely until Jennifer seated herself on Malcolm's lap and proceeded to show everyone her pantyless shaved cooter. On purpose. Hilarity ensued, a fight broke out, and we ended up being asked to leave the restaurant. The police got involved later on in the evening and there were arrests made (thankfully Joey and I got the hell out of there and took a cab home before all the major shit went down). Over the next few days the drama continued, with Al threatening to quit, Malcolm threatening to fire him, and me threatening to kill everyone involved because I was tired of all the bullshit.

Last year, everyone was pretty subdued and we had a nice time. By that point, everyone had made nice and apologized to everyone else, so it seemed like we'd all moved on. We even had the same group go to Cabo last year and for the most part everyone got along just fine.

Saturday night started out innocently enough. Cocktails from 6 - 9 PM and then whatever else rolled along afterwards. There was plenty of great food and the drinks were flowing.

And then Al and Jennifer showed up. About an hour after they got there, she cornered me and was so fucked up that I couldn't understand what she was saying but she was almost hysterically crying. Then later on, allegedly she was doing the Gator in the middle of the floor in her black cocktail dress. See what I mean about her being a class act?

Around 10:30 we were still in the party room having a big time - a few of the guys that I work with happened to be down there and they joined us - when I noticed that on the patio outside the party room there seemed to be some heated discussions going on between David, Yvonne, and Al. Apparently, Al had grabbed Yvonne's ass - she told him to stop - and then he did it again. Big mistake. David, you see, was a three-time Golden Gloves boxing champ so he won't hesitate to throw a punch. Not to mention he is very protective of Yvonne and their daughter.

Things quickly went downhill. Joey went outside and tried to get Al to apologize - Al refused to, claiming he hadn't done anything. Now, I am here to tell you that I have known David and Yvonne for 15 years and there is no freaking way that either one of them would make up a story. They're not those kind of people. Al, on the other hand, has a long track record of being an insufferable lying douchebag so it was pretty evident that something had happened and he wasn't going to fess up.

And this is where it gets worse. Joey asks Al to apologize and he won't. Joey tells Al to be a man and take responsibility for what he's done and he won't.

And then Jennifer tried to hit my husband. Not once, not twice, but three times.

By the time I got outside to find out what was going on, all I saw was Joey standing there red-faced and angry, Al yelling at Joey, and Jennifer in a curled up ball of hysterical sobbing. I walked toward the group when the bouncer stopped me.

"That guy, he's outta here," he said. Referring to my husband.

What? Did he hurt someone? No, the bouncer said, but he's really the only reasonable one in the whole group that I think I can get out of here...before the cops show up. I then grabbed Joey by the arm, told him it was time to go, and we caught a cab home. Just as the cops pulled up. The bouncers thanked us for trying to help, thanked us for leaving without giving them a hard time, and the head guy gave me a little wink and said, "Don't take this the wrong way please - we're just trying to save him from getting in trouble with the cops since he really didn't do anything wrong. You guys are good."

I was upset. Pissed. Embarrassed. Lord knows I hope the guys from work didn't catch on to what was going on, or I'm going to be the talk of the office next week. Goody. And honestly, I was a little upset with Joey - yes, he was trying to do the right thing and have everyone make nice, but when you're dealing with a bunch of drunk hotheads sometimes it's better off just to walk away. Sometimes the country boy comes flaming out and he was all about defending David and Yvonne's honor, not really thinking about how with this group there isn't going to be any civilized conversation involved. I think he realized that once we were in the cab on the way home, and apologized the rest of the ride home. And I was just relieved that we got out of there while we did.

Yesterday, Al called David and Joey each about 20 times. Neither of them have anything to say to him. Al told Malcolm that he had apologized to David before Joey got involved. Not true. The lying continues.

Sigh. I'm done. Honestly, I hate all the drama, I hate being embarrassed. And I'm not going to any more functions where Al and Jennifer are invited, because I'm not playing that game. So you know what? I'm laying down the ultimatum. They are GONE. I am not dealing with their BS anymore. I don't give a shit if Al sells $3 million in repair work a year and it makes a lot of profit. The guy is a fucking loser. And they'd be better off without him.

Ahem.

Today is a fairly busy day. We have one last-minute gift we forgot to get (oops). Maybe a quick grocery run. And tonight is our annual tradition of going downtown to see the lights and then out for burgers and shakes. A strange tradition, but it's all ours. This year my nephew Steve and his wife Yancey will join us and I'm super excited out this. Not just to see them, but because I know that chances are good that all of us will be wearing underwear and there probably won't be any fistfights.

Have a good one, y'all.

And so it goes

Yesterday morning I was sitting at my desk when my phone started ringing. I noticed it was my sister's number so I chose not to answer. I wasn't ready to talk to her yet.

I listened to the voice mail. Long and teary, she said that my mom had told her that I was angry with her over the whole birthday fiasco, and she was sorry and hoped I'd call her.

I did. We talked. She apologized and I accepted. I never felt like she did it intentionally - she mentioned that she thought I was too busy to come, to which I told her that in the future I'd like that to be MY decision, not hers. I get such limited chances to see our parents that not being included is really hurtful.

So it's all good. And apparently the trip to Williamsburg was a total disaster, so maybe it's a good thing I didn't go.

*****

Thanks to one of Joey's biggest customers, we got free tickets to The Nutcracker last night. I figured it would be a great opportunity to take Monkey Man to see it without blowing over $100 if he crapped out on us halfway through. Not to mention the theatre where it was being performed is truly beautiful. And has open bar.

What we didn't realize was that apparently they only do that for adult-themed shows. You can get a mixed drink or a beer and take it back to your seat. People love it and they're very responsible about it too - it's not a sloppy drunkfest by any means. Last night they only allowed alcohol in the lobby, so I guess that they don't allow it for kid-themed shows. Which is kind of ironic because that's one of the times most parents WISH they had a drink.

The show was good. I'm a little jaded since I grew up outside New York City and saw it at the Lincoln Center a few times. And Monkey Man made it the whole way through, an impressive feat. He fell asleep about 7 minutes after we pulled out of the parking deck.

*****

Tonight is Joey's company office party. It may or may not include alcohol, lots of tasteless jokes, someone not wearing underwear, and maybe a fight or two. It should be interesting.

In my regular party-prep mode, I've been a total slug today. Well, I did do a little supplemental Christmas shopping today and of course we had to go to Costco. It has gotten to the point where we were almost out of toilet paper and starting to eye the newspaper as a possible option. And since we got back, I've been watching all kinds of quality TV like "Expensive Celebrity Divorces". Good times.

Tomorrow is a Forced In-Law Interaction. We're driving an hour from here to do a gift exchange and have brunch. A small price to pay so that they're not holing up in our house for Christmas. And, allegedly, my brother-in-law might actually get off his sorry ass and go too.

Off to shower. And figure out what to wear that's the appropriate mix of "slutty" and "responsible boss' wife". Hmmmm.

Did I mention that I can't drink alcohol?

Did I mention lately that I'm tired?

Oh, yeah. Oops. Scratch that.

Um...let's see...

There are a lot of little things going on around here. Nothing earth-shattering, unless you count the fact that I haven't been able to drink alcohol in over a week. My friends are duly impressed.

My parents are coming this weekend for a baby shower that is being given for my niece-in-law Yancey - she is due in four weeks and when we had lunch on Monday I was happy to see how marvelous she looked. Seriously, folks, I was like the worst, fattest, most horrendous pregnant person ever - while Yancey just glows and looks all fabulous.

So that seems all simple, right? Well, add my sister in there and you know that's all going to crap. I love my sister. Love her. But she drives me absolutely insane. Without going into a whole saga, I will say that she invited my parents to come for five days - arriving tomorrow - and then suddenly two days ago, calls me at work to tell me that she's "busy" on Friday and can Mom and Dad stay at our house?

Um, okay?

It's not that I don't want my parents here. But dammit, I get tired of her making family arrangements without consulting with me first. I work. She doesn't. I have a small kid. She doesn't. She tries to make it "easy" on me by planning everything at her house. Spending 45 minutes in the car each way to go to and from her house isn't making my life easy. It's exhausting.

The other factor is that we had plans tomorrow night - my office Christmas party, and then one of my subcontractors (and a personal friend of ours) invited us to come to his company party. We had a babysitter. So I cancelled it all so that I could have dinner here at the house for my parents.

And now they're not coming until Saturday morning. That sound you hear? Is the sound of me hitting my head against my laptop.

And the kicker? My sister's "busy" was going to a Christmas party. Ahem.

So anyhow, it all worked out. And honestly, it's for the best because Joey is sick with an upper respiratory infection and my parents probably shouldn't sleep in The House of Pestilence, a.k.a. my house. Not to mention that if I can't drink, I probably shouldn't be in a confined area with my mother for longer than an hour or two.

Last night was the Badass Ladies' Night Out. It was kind of disappointing. First, I can't drink. And yes, I know I mention it constantly, but it's sucking all the joy out of my life right now. Anyhow, second - Jay ended up getting upset when her kids called to say goodnight and the oldest one guilted her into a total meltdown. Poor thing, between the exhaustion, having a newborn that had cried all day on Tuesday, and the post-pregnancy hormones, she was a sobbing wreck. It kind of put a damper on the night and I felt so bad for her that I wanted to have a drink. I mean, pour her a drink.

Three more days. Three more days.

The beginning of the month-long celebration of ME

Yeah, I kind of blew it with NaBloPoMo. It really wasn't my fault, though. I blame the shrimp I ate last night that had me doubled over with stomach cramps and running to the bathroom every 10 minutes like clockwork. Ehhhhh. And the WiFi doesn't work in the bathroom, so...there you go.

Today, though, is a new day. December 1st. The beginning of the month-long celebration of ME. Me, me, me.

Actually, it started yesterday. I went into Starbucks to get my usual and Velma greeted me with a "Happy Birthday! And someone already bought your drink today, so have a wonderful day!" When pressed, she admitted that Cat Door had already been there (before 7 AM! what the hell?) and bought my drink and also gave her a message to give me. But she wouldn't tell me what it was. So I called him - he was at the dentist - and when he called me back he said "I told her to tell you that you are old and high maintenance." Yes, I replied, but here's the thing - I will always be YOUNGER and HOTTER than you. That got him going. I think I hurt his wittle feelings. He'll get over it.

Tonight is The Dinner. Fourteen of our friends will be there - scratch that, make that thirteen since Pete found out this morning that he has strep throat. That sucks. Hopefully no one will be stricken before tomorrow...I should probably load up on amoxicillin and cold remedies before we go.

My dear, sweet husband - who is never able to keep a secret or a surprise, has already given me my birthday present. Keep in mind that my actual birthday is the 5th. It's a beautiful John Hardy bracelet with a black sapphire catch on it. Really beautiful and very ME. I think he's just happy to have dodged the Yurman bullet this time around.

So in a few hours, I'll zip off to try and find myself some new boots since my current ones (from the end of last year) look like hell. Then home to get dressed and find an outfit with the appropriate amount of boobage. And then off to get my drink on.

Finally, something to really be thankful for

Today, I am thankful for Tums, Gatorade, and Pepto Bismol. Seriously. Mama drank too many martinis last night.

******

On the good side, I was the freaking life of the party. On the bad side, I woke up around 5 AM and realized that I was still drunk. Oops.

We had a blast last night. We went to this new restaurant downtown that is supposed to be a pseudo-Irish pub (but really other than a few Irish dishes it's kind of a misnomer) and has a great atmosphere. Not to mention the bar area had a really cool vibe to it. Great martinis. Oh yeah, I kind of alluded to that already. Well, they were good. Too good.

On the good side, I didn't get sick on the way home like I thought I would. On the bad side, I felt like total ass this morning.

But a little breakfast on my stomach and getting a nap this morning really helped. I feel better - tired, but better. We had left my car in valet parking last night and caught a ride home with Jay and Harry (she didn't drink since she's pregnant) so we had to head back downtown to get the car. We ate at one of our favorite haunts and had possibly the worst waiter ever. Which seems to be a constant theme for us sometimes.

And the tattoos? No one got one last night. Honestly, I can't think of something I would want to put on my body forever. My ex-sister-in-law has, at last count, 14 tattoos of varying sizes - and the ones she got pre-pregnancy are less than attractive. I used to tease her that the rose she had on her right breast would eventually turn into a long-stemmed rose. Blech.

A few months ago, we were on our way to a football game and we decided to stop for breakfast at a Huddle House restaurant. If you've never been to a Huddle House (and I was a HH virgin), it's like the ghetto version of Waffle House. I suspect that the dinner menu is probably a little bit better than Waffle House, but the breakfast menu is surprisingly small.

So as we were sitting in the booth waiting on our breakfast, we noticed this couple come in. It was pretty obvious that they were dating and from all appearances they looked like they'd probably been out all night. They were in their late 40's to early 50's, I think. They were sitting at the counter and at one point the woman got up to go to the restroom, which was located behind our booth. As she walked by, I was struck by two distinct features. First, she was wearing this cabbage-rose sweater, circa 1984 that was cropped and showed off her muffin-top. Second, she had a tattoo on her lower back - what we would commonly refer to as a tramp stamp.

There was something different about this tramp stamp though. It was the face of a cat - two eyes, nose, mouth, and whiskers. And it took up half of her back.

I just about choked on my drink. The only thing I could think of and kept running through my head the entire time - I wonder if she had a disclaimer tattoo somewhere that said "the real pussy is on the other side"?

Hmmm.

Oh my damn

I think we've discovered an all new form of birthday party torture.

Six-year-old karaoke party.

They should've provided earplugs. The kids had a blast, though. I was wishing I'd brought a flask.

*****

Tonight is my friend Heather's birthday dinner along with the rest of the Badasses. There will be drinking involved, probably a taxi home, and maybe even some tattoos. Wish me luck.

*****

I am thankful that my son seems to make friends easily. He came home this week to tell me about a kid who was snubbed on the playground, so Monkey Man and his buddy Q went over and said "we'll be your friends, come play with us." It made my heart sing.

A break from all the fabulosity

Today was one of those days where I felt like my return to work was a requisite remedy for the fabulosity that is my life.

Bwahahaha! No, seriously, I was so freaking busy this weekend that I really did need to go back to work just to get some rest.

Both Joey and Monkey Man conveniently came down with sinus infections this weekend, one day apart. You'd think they would've scheduled all of this with a little more forethought so that we could kill two birds with one stone and go to the doc-in-the-box all at once. Instead, Joey went on Saturday morning and was home within 45 minutes - and then got stuck hauling Monkey Man over there yesterday and it took almost three hours. If I hadn't been so drunk I probably would've felt a little bad about it.

The drunk part was from a brunch we had for Jay's upcoming birth. We had it at this old-school restaurant in the city where they have a pretty decent brunch and really good mimosas and bloody marys. Needless to say a good bar is key to a Badass outing. She'd been having contractions last week so we were all kind of wondering if she was going to be able to hold off until after the shower, but Baby decided to cook a little longer so it was all good.

Then, it was off to a Halloween party. Monkey Man had brought home an invitation from one of his classmates to come to a Halloween party at his house. I didn't RSVP at first because, well, I really wasn't into the thought of spending my Sunday afternoon doing that. Then he brought home a second invitation so I felt like maybe we should go. And I'm glad that I did.

This party was really over the top. They had the entire freaking yard covered in spider webs and all kinds of coffins, ghouls, goblins, and spooky stuff. A guy they hired to entertain the kids who made these amazing balloon animals (things like a tree with a panda bear climbing it, they were unreal). Someone doing face painting. The biggest damn moon bounce I've ever seen. A huge jungle gym. Food, and more importantly, BEER.

I'm a pretty social person, but I got to the party just to realize that I didn't know a soul there except for one couple from our neighborhood. They are kind of the "queen bee" types where they reign supreme over the Almighty Pool and think they're All That And A Bag Of Chips. Eventually, she came over with another mom and talked to me for a few minutes, and then I was alone again. So I got myself a beer and stood there enjoying the antics of the kids.

It wasn't long before I started looking around at the parents and realized the large amounts of men there without women. As a matter of fact, other than one other lady I was the only "single" woman out there. The men, meanwhile, were sizing all the ladies up and trying to be all sly about it but it was pretty comical to watch...because you know how they are, no matter how cool they try to be, the minute they see a rack walk by you can almost hear the speed at which their heads turn.

"Hey, how are you?" I was startled out of my fixation on the mating habits of the party attendees. This fairly nice-looking guy came over to me, introduced himself as Brian, and began to talk to me. We chit-chatted for about 15 minutes about where we work, where the kids went to school, and all that BS. I was just enjoying having some adult conversation, until he made the big mistake of using possibly the world's worst pickup line on me. Ever.

"So, what's your costume? Did you come as a MILF?" he grinned.

Um. Yeah. See what I mean? Worst. Pickup. Line. Ever.

"No, but that is really funny. I bet my husband would love that as a costume idea!"

The shock on his face was hilarious. You see, I had run out of the house so fast yesterday that I never got a chance to put any of my rings on - I had taken them off to wash some chicken and forgot to put them back on. I had all my other jewelry on, so it wasn't like I had forgotten everything...so I guess he totally misunderstood my situation.

He ended up apologizing six ways from Sunday and offered to get me a beer. I said no thanks, but that in the future he probably shouldn't try that line on anyone else because it was pretty pathetic. But funny. He skulked off and last I saw him he was hanging around the fire pit.

Hey, you've got to give him an A for effort, who else would have the cojones to try and pick someone up at a kids' Halloween party? Obviously, someone who probably also needs some new pickup lines.

Um, let's see what else. I'm scheduled (finally!) to get my Mirena IUD next Monday if everything goes according to schedule. My yearly review is tomorrow, which should provide some good blog fodder. I have a review due for PBN on Wednesday. Badass dinner on Saturday. I think a kids' birthday party on Saturday as well. I need to go by another tile place to look at more tile for our bathroom. And I'm finalizing plans for a little field trip to see some of my favorite bloggers.

So other than a few bloggy things I'm chewing on like cud, it's all good. Sorry I've been such a slacker, but fabulosity is a full-time job, y'all.

Drinking should be mandatory at all company events

About two weeks ago, we received an email from my boss' boss that we were "invited" to attend a happy hour at the local wing place. Invited, as in "if you're not here we're going to talk a bunch of smack about you and call you a pussy." It's kind of one of those company events that it's probably a good idea if you attend, lest people start thinking you've gone crazy and stopped drinking.

April, however, has stopped drinking. She's been going through some personal shit and ended up voting with her doctor to try some Zoloft to deal with some anxiety issues - and therefore can't drink. She was more than bummed out about this happy hour thing because no one, and I mean no one, loves a good happy hour like April. She actually was not even going to go.

So I took a bullet for the team and volunteered to be her non-drinking buddy. What the fuck was I thinking? Company events are NO fun when you don't drink. But I sucked it up and had my Diet Pepsi and hopefully it helped her a little bit to know at least one other person at the bar wasn't getting shitfaced on the company dime. I, however, was rueing my decision and wishing that I'd had maybe just one beer. Just one. Or I guess I could've gotten a shot and poured it in my Diet Pepsi. Or two.

Anyhow, I toughed it out until 6 and then decided to head home to my boys. Kindergarten orientation is tomorrow at 2 PM (rant: why the hell do they schedule this crap in the middle of the work day instead of say 3 - 5 PM?) and I have a backpack to get together so we can haul his umpteen gluesticks in there.

And I will so need a drink after that.

His teacher, we found out, is Mrs. Smith. I think she must be in the witness protection program. I mean, how...ordinary is that name? Maybe she uses an alias so parents won't stalk her. Maybe. I have my ways, though.

*****

Thanks to everyone for the emails about the birth control options. I was surprised at all the options y'all use (especially the pregnancy method of birth control, ha ha) but it gave me some good things to talk to Dr. Brown about.

The decision has been made to get the Mirena IUD. It will take a while for them to process my insurance, then I have to get my yearly exam (October) and THEN they'll do the procedure. Until then, I've been loaded up with multiple samples and refills of hoo-ha medicine and told to stay on Yasmin.

It's going to be a long two months. Looooong.

*****

More tomorrow on the mysterious Mrs. Smith. I hope I can sleep tonight.

Wish you were here

So this is where I am.

Doin' a whole lot of nothing. We rolled in yesterday afternoon and promptly got massages and had a great dinner last night. Chateaubriand, a great poached pear salad with proscuitto, blue cheese and candied walnuts, and bananas foster. Yum.

Oh, and my masseuse was Fred. I didn't get the happy ending, but damn he had some good hands.

We're actually here on business. Really. Malcolm and Paula came rolling in last night, and the rest of the usual crew will be here today after lunch - David and Yvonne, Harper and Debbie. And who knows who else.

Tonight is the yearly bowling party. I suck at bowling and I will be drunk so it should be a lot of fun. I think the guys are playing in a golf tournament today and I'll be doing the spa gig. My goal is to be so freaking relaxed when we get home that I'll be just a puddle.

Off to shower. I'm starving and I think we have breakfast plans with someone this morning. Later!

How to survive your 20th high school reunion

Make sure your alcoholic beverages are securely strapped inside your PimpMobile. Cuz ya don't want any spillage, yo. Especially since it's BYOB at the dayum Moose Lodge.











Grab your nametag. Try to ignore the fact that you not only had a mullet in 1987, but a freaking spike cut too. Multitasking at such a young age.












Find out that your former best friend is a bonafide alcoholic with his 10th DUI and so much brain damage from alcohol that you can't understand a single damn word he says. Plus he looks like he's about 50, doesn't he? Kids, if this isn't enough to make you sober up, nothing is.








Find your old college roommate that you lost touch with 15 years ago. Promise that this time you'll stay in touch, especially since he lost that bitchy ex-wife of his.











Pose for the obligatory class picture that no one will stand still for. Hide in the back hoping no one will notice that you're bald.

Last, but not least, wait until you've sweated your ass off at the Moose Lodge for three hours before finally allowing yourself to have your picture taken with your wife. Who, by the way, looks a whole lot damn better than your high school girlfriend. But who's comparing.

A tale of rabid animals and slippery feet

I would say that the Big Badass Weekend was an unequivocal hit.

I haven't laughed that hard in a long, long time.

The highlights of the trip...

Within our first hour there, seeing my ex-boyfriend that I moved to this city to be with walk into the resort restaurant with some woman. It was painfully obvious that he saw me and I saw him, and we didn't speak. That guy was a freakazoid. Then we ran into him all weekend long every place we went. The only comfort I had was knowing that every time he took that woman back to her room, he was probably making her be his dirty little bitch. Ahem.

Talking about everything, and I mean everything under the sun.

Relaxing.

Going to the spa and being pampered like nobody's business. It was just wrong in so many ways that I don't even know where to start.

A little retail therapy.

LOTS of liquor.

Really good food.

No cell phone coverage except in a few select locations.

And perhaps, the funniest story I've been part of in a long time.

After finishing up at the spa, we had to walk down this long flight of stairs (outdoors) to get to the parking lot. The stupid place is on a mountain so you are climbing pretty much the entire weekend. All the other girls were in front of me, and I was slowly bringing up the rear since my feet were slippery as hell from massage oil and I was wearing these blasted flip-flops that Heather bought all of us as a fun gift. Yeah, not so fun when you almost bust your ass.

So we're tromping on down to the parking lot, when suddenly the front two girls start screaming, turn around and start running up the stairs. Then the other two do the same thing, leaving me in the dust.

And what is it making them scream?

The biggest goddamn groundhog I have ever seen, hauling ass up the steps in hot pursuit of us. So I proceeded to turn around and haul ass up the steps just a few steps in front of him. Envision, if you will, five grown-ass women screaming and running back up the steps into the spa away from the large, threatening, menacing...groundhog.

I suspect that he was probably headed up to the front door of the spa, where they had some little ponds and he probably wanted a drink and maybe looking for some tourist-discarded snackage for himself. Maybe he wanted to score a pina colada since it was adjacent to the pool. Whatever it was, he scared the ever living shit out of us. Not to mention that I was the only one of the group that knew what it was...the others thought it was either a big hairy cat (that would be Jay, who is almost blind without her glasses) and a beaver (which makes me wonder where the hell these people grew up because beavers have flat tails).

But we survived. And I am just hoping that I won't find myself on America's Funniest Home Videos when the security people review the tape. Damn that was funny.


I can't wait for next time.