My Most Embarassing Fall Ever

It happened over this Thanksgiving weekend, it seemed like all was going well, and then, it happened. I'll set the scene for you:

My cousin Phil's basketball game just ended. I'd left from work and traveled to Rockford, IL to the game, so I still had my adorable high heels on from work. I made it through the whole game, climbing up and down the bleachers a couple times, but with assistance, I made it. That was, until the game was over. I'm climbing down the bleachers and the next thing you know, I've tumbled, rolled, and fallen down 3 or 4 rows of bleachers. Also, I'm missing a shoe. Although the gym had mostly cleared out, my family was still there. We're talking cousins, uncles, my sister, my parents, my grandparents. When I realized what happened, I heard this girl, 10-years-old or so, saying, "Oh my God, I tripped her!" I told her she didn't, but then I led everyone to believe that she did (they didn't believe me).

So, this was a good laugh for the moment, which I thought would end. Normally, when I fall, there's usually only a few people I know around me, and they usually let it go. Not my family. All Thanksgiving weekend they'd make little comments. I deserved whatever they would throw at me, though.

My footwear is almost always inappropriate and the root of most of my problems, but it's worth it!

A Lifetime of Thankful

This year, I have so much to be thankful for. It's good for the soul to recognize your blessings and let people know you're thankful for them, so here it goes:

• My Family. I am blessed to have parents who love me and my son. Many of us think this is a given, but if you look around, it's not. I've given my parents enough reasons to throw their hands up at me and give up, but they never have. I also have a sister who I love dearly and speak to about 5 times a week. We had our differences growing up, so I'm particularly appreciative of our relationship now.
• My Son. I didn't really want to be a mother, but you do what you have to...and I'm so glad I did. This child brings me endless joy and has fulfilled me in a way I never expected. Since it's just the two of us, we don't really have a choice but to be each other's constant companion. I wouldn't choose anyone else.
• My Friends. I have the world's best friends. I have several friends that I've known since grade school and high school that are still my best friends in the world. I feel fortunate to have such strong bonds with such wonderful friends. I have a few friends from college who I still talk to on a weekly basis. I'm a lucky girl.
• My Home. I know you're not supposed to be thankful for material goods, but I love my house. I love what it stands for, I love that I did it myself, I love that everything in it is a deliberate decision on my part, I love that it's mine, I love that I don't have to clean it if I don't want to, I love that my dad didn't want me to buy it, but he helps me all the time and I'm sure he's secretly proud of me.
• My Grandpa. Most of you know, but for those who don't, my Grandpa was diagnosed with stomach cancer and it spread. He's opted not to treat it because the odds that it will get to the cancer in the stomach are not good. My Grandpa is what's good with this world: he was a lawyer, then an FBI Agent, then a Judge. He gives his time and talents to good causes, he loves my Grandma, and he loves all of us, despite our faults. I'm so proud of my Grandpa and I don't want to lose him, but I'm proud of the way he's handled this. I know grandpa's are supposed to die at some time, but the thought of loosing mine takes my breath away and I can't bear to think about it. I only hope that I can live my life with the dignity and class that he exemplifies.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours!

I Love New York

I have a guilty pleasure, and it's called I Love New York on VH1. This is the woman, New York (aka Tiffany Pollard), is searching for love in a sea of men who are most likely actors. Now, New York is a woman that was originally on the Flavor of Love, but apparently wasn't good enough for Flavor Flav (who hooked up with Brigette Neilsen).

This season of I Love New York has been top notch. There was a midget, a "spit" fight, ghosts, toe sucking, snitching, and anything else you could want on a reality dating show. It's not even a guilty pleasure anymore, it's just something I'm proud to admit that I watch.

I am, however, not proud that New York (Tiffany) and I are more alike than I'd like to admit. This realization came when I saw the previews for a new episode where her suitors have to cook her a meal and she says, "He combined two of my favorite things in the whole world, ranch and vodka." Hold up, New York, those are two of my favorite things. I began to think of other ways New York and I are alike: we both like low cut shirts, we both can't find love, we like big strong black men. I feel like she's my sister from another mister.

If you've seen this show, you're probably lowering your head and shaking it with disappointment. That's OK, I'm OK with it!

Never Underestimate Me Again

This weekend's home improvement project was a big one. I was going to paint the living room AND remove the carpet. With a couple days of prep, the painting was a breeze. Big ups to my friend Annie who came to help, I will be forever indebted.

Then came the carpet removal. I tricked my dad into coming over to "check out how the painting went" and then enlisted his help. Once he got me started and Annie left, I had a large room's worth of carpet to remove. By myself. And you know what, I did it! I only have a few dozen scrapes, cuts, and bruises, but considering I used hammers, screwdrivers, crowbars, and pliers, I don't think that's too bad!

I underestimate myself quite a bit. While I wish I was financially able to pay people to do my dirty work, but I can't. There's something to be said about doing it yourself. I don't think I'd appreciate the beauty of my completely transformed living room if I hadn't lost some blood in the process (FYI, William lost some blood too, but only because he was playing with the tape measure). I really never thought I was cut out to do this type of manual labor, but I guess I am. I'm proud of myself today.

Do You Think This is a Sign?

Yesterday, as a grabbed a little Nestle Crunch out of my son's Halloween basket, I went to the mailbox. There was a flyer from Weight Watchers. Thanks God, I think I'll listen.

The Proper Feeding of Children

I once read a quote from Melania Trump that said (about her newborn son): "I don't feed him because I have to, I feed him because I want to." That is the exact opposite of how I feel.

I took two days off to be with my son when he was off of school Thursday and Friday. We were supposed to go to St. Louis, but when those plans fell through, we ended up staying home for four days of togetherness. My least favorite part of spending time with my son, is that he requires to eat at least three times a day. I could easily go without eating either breakfast or lunch, but he always wants both. Plus, when it's four days in a row, you can't exactly go to McDonald's or BK for every meal. In addition, he doesn't like to eat most of what I like to eat (probably my fault).

We need a Mom.

There's ALOT Goin' On

I've been out of commission for a while, but here's everything I've been wanting to tell y'all:

Kathy Griffin Is AMAZING, Oh, and I Fell
I had the great pleasure of visiting Chicago this past weekend, for the main purpose of seeing Kathy Griffin, but also to visit my old college roomie. We had a great visit. We went out Friday night to Rush Street, after leaving the stupid bar that stupidly closed at 2:00 in search of a bar that stayed open later (mama needs to drink), I'm telling my friend, "You know, I ALWAYS fall in these shoes," BAM, I bit it. Right on the corner, with everyone watching. My purse broke and the guy behind me said "I'm gonna follow you all night, just so I can see THAT happen again!" Asshole. So there you have it, I have fallen recently, fortunately, no injuries, just my purse that hopefully my mommy can fix.

The next night, we headed to the dinner then the Chicago Theater for Kathy Griffin for a show to start at 10:30. Mind you, 10:30 was already pretty late, but when we got there, there was a line out front that went around the block-in both directions-which we had to wait in for approximately 45 minutes. Luckily, it wasn't too hot or too cold and we happened to be in just the right spot to see Padma, Dale and Gayle from Top Chef get out of their car. I about shit my pants, I was jumping up and down and probably made too big of a deal of it, as the gays we were talking to pretty much didn't talk to us after that.

The show was FANTASTIC, I recommend it for anyone who loves her brand of comedy. I didn't even remember we had to wait for forever to see her.

Hi, My Name's Rebecca, And I'm an Inappropriate Toucher
I tend to believe that I'm friends with strangers, more so than they do. Regarding the above referenced gays, I didn't mention that I grabbed one of their arms while jumping up and down. Maybe that's why they didn't talk to us any more?!

In Von Mauer on Monday, I bought some Clinique and then found out that Bonus started on Wednesday. This always happens to me. So, the lady very graciously offered for me to order some more items and she'd send them. I told her, no, I'd come back. Then I basically had to fill out all of the same stuff, so I told her to just send it. I then called myself retarded. To make things more awkward, I touched her arm and told her thanks, she been very helpful. I don't think the touch was well received. To make matters worse, after I left, I heard my name over the loud speaker to go back to the cosmetics area. Were they going to arrest me? No, they just needed the expiration from my card, duh.

I Know I Love My TiVo....
Since I had the stomach flu for a few days, I've spent my week in bed watching TV. I actually also needed the time to catch up on everything I'd TiVo'd over the last few weeks (my body knows when I need to catch up on TiVo). I was watching an episode of Pushing Daisies and saw a commercial for an Elton John concert. Phone in hand, I'm ready to call and get tickets, if need be, for myself only. Then I see the date, October 12. I'm going through my mental calendar, do I have anything on that date. Well, I did, but it was also over two weeks ago. Damn it.

There's A Difference Between Kid Magicians and Adult Magicians

On Saturday, I had the pleasure of seeing not one, but two magicians (and I wasn't in Vegas or anything). The first was the "kid" magician at a children's Halloween party. Mr. Nick was great, for a magician from Oelwein, IA, he was great! The kids LOVED him and had soooo much fun watching him. Mr. Nick was extremely talented in the balloon area (swords, flowers, vampires, you name it!) and had the patience of a saint.

Later that night, I saw the "adult" magician. I don't remember his name, he was supposed to be a comedian, but he turned out to be a comedian/magician. This guy also did balloon things, his was a penis with balls hat. He, too, was great. I really like it when they embarrass audience members, as long as it's not me. He did some basic card tricks, he made a $50 bill from a girl in the audience reappear in an orange, and he did some trick with scarves, bras, and underwear.

Now, Mr. Nick's magic wasn't hard to figure out. It was pretty basic. However, my "adult" magician had me perplexed. I love magic, but I don't get it. It makes me feel stupid and excited all at once. A good day indeed!

Held Hostage in Africa

We were in Kansas City for the weekend for a friend's birthday party and I decided to make a weekend out of it and take Will to the zoo. The Kansas City zoo is deceptively GINORMOUS. We were having fun, doing the little things, then we get to "Africa" and realize there's no easy way out. It was hot, hot, hot, and all of the snack places were closed for the season. To add to the mess, it was apparently monsoon season in Africa. Did I mention my friend had her five-month-old little sweet baby in his not-waterproof stroller? We had nowhere to go. Eventually we made our way to the tram and got back to Kansas City. Whew!

It was a fun day, however. Will and I rode a camel, I had a Larakeet on my head and shoulder, we saw baboons go apeshit on a zoo guest, watched a gorilla get fed, fell in love with meerkats, and, even though I was wearing flip flops in the rain, no accidents!!

You're Never Too Old to Try New Things

Fortunately for me (and not for you) I haven't been injured in a long time, despite ample opportunity! I think it's like how a watched pot doesn't boil. I've even taken to trying all types of new things I've never done/had before! I'm almost 30, I'd better get everything in before I enter the "elderly" category! Many things I've already talked about on my blog, but the list is impressive (according to me!):

• I tried chicken/hot/buffalo wings. Not sure what they're actually called, but since they can be dipped in ranch, I love 'em!
• I jumped/swam/tubed/boated in lake for the first time. I didn't die and I should probably apply for Survivor! However there is some weird deadly amoeba that lurks in lakes, swims up through your nose into your brain. Mostly in Texas, Florida, and Arizona, so I may steer clear of lakes in those states.
• I wore sensible shoes to a football tailgate---it makes a world of difference.
• I ate ribs. Probably won't do it again, but at least I tried.
• I changed a lock, not once, but twice. My sister stayed at my house for the weekend and when I came home, she said the deadbolt didn't work. Fixed, no problem, I'm a pro!
• Went to a Boy Scout meeting (for my son)!
• Will played on the Burger King playground equipment and I didn't freak out and tell him he was going to die of germs! I kind of forgot about germs. We've both had a cold ever since, so I think I'll try to remember next time.
• I've been drinking beer instead of mixed drinks. Not always, but I'm trying to stick with the "Liquor before beer you're in the clear; beer before liquor, you've never been sicker" rule. If I'm someplace where beer is served (like an outdoor festival or concert) I'll drink the beer and stick with it. I even have some beer in my fridge (left over from home improvement projects).

I guess what I'm getting at is that I'm not set in my ways, I'm young, vibrant, and the world is my oyster!!!

It's 9:00 Do You Know Where Your Tylenol PM Is?

Last night was kind of hectic because we didn't get home until 7:50, so I had to get Will in the bath, get the garbage out, talk on the phone...the usual. In the midst of all of this, I'm not sure if I took my Tylenol PM.

For those of you who know me, you know I'm a frequent and habitual user of the stuff. I take it every night to make sure I stay asleep. If I think I've run out or dropped my last pill, I'm like a crack fiend. You can imagine when I couldn't remember if I'd taken it how I felt.

I called my friend who is a nurse and asked if I could just go ahead and take two more, just in case. The answer was no and that I already sound like I'd taken it--that's new, a phone diagnosis just from my slurred words, nice. I was stirring and stirring. Maybe I can just take one, that way I won't OD if I'd already taken some. I went so far as to get the one pill out of the bottle, but then I stopped myself.

I know when kids are sick (I'm not sick) you can give them both acetaminophen and ibuprofen, so I'll just take some ibuprofen. As I'm fumbling around looking for the ibu, my son is asking "What are you doing, mom?" and like a true drug addict, I said "Don't worry about it, go to sleep!" I took two ibu and went to sleep.

What is wrong with me?

Illegitmate, Schmillegitimate

My co-worker was telling me she reads this blog http://www.parentdish.com/bloggers/kristin-darguzas/. Now, she's been reading it for a while, and considering it's on a site called Parent Dish, I didn't feel like it was a site for me. Then, one day she told me that this Kristin is a single mama (or unmarried mother) such as myself. I'm now addicted. However, I wondered why I thought the site didn't apply to me. I'm a parent, I like to dish. But I know why. Because these sites are filled with "My husband didn't help change the baby's diaper" and "We're wondering what the best preschool is for our 2-month-old". I have a different set of circumstances such as, do I pay the electric bill or the daycare, why can't my son catch a football, and how am I going to raise my son all by myself.

This divide between regular parents and single parents starts at the very beginning. When I found out I was pregnant there were no books out there titled "Oh Shit, You're Knocked Up" only "What To Expect When You're Expecting" and the like. I remember reading these books and thinking, "this really doesn't apply to me", but I read them anyway, because that's what was available.

When children are born out of wedlock, they are, by definition, illegitimate. Meaning, not legitimate. Now that's not a very nice way of describing my child. Because he has only one participating parent, does that make him less legitimate than other children...according to society, yes.

So I did a little research:

-According to Custodial Mothers and Fathers and Their Child Support: 2003, released by the U.S. Census Bureau in July, 2006, there are approximately 14 million single parents in the United States today raising 21.6 million children.

-Single parents account for 27 percent of family households with children under 18. (US Census Bureau of Household and Family Statistics, 2000)
-More than two million fathers are the primary caregivers of children under 18, a 62 percent increase since 1990. (New York Times, May 20, 2001, Jane Fritsch)
-One in two children will live in a single-parent family at some point in childhood. (State of America’s Children Yearbook 2000, Children’s Defense Fund)
-One in three children is born to unmarried parents. (State of America’s Children Yearbook 2000, Children’s Defense Fund)
-Between 1978 and 1996, the number of babies born to unmarried women per year quadrupled from 500,000 to more than two million. (National Survey of America’s Families)
-The number of single mothers increased from three million to 10 million between 1970 and 2000. (US Census Bureau of Household and Family Statistics, 2000)

Now, that's a pretty large segment of the population. I'll admit, part of this feeling is my own defensiveness and hyper-sensitivity to my situation. But, recently, I've felt that society doesn't view me as a legitimate mother (which makes sense, because my son is not legitimate). But I am legitimate. My son has the same needs as your children, he does homework, he eats, he watches TV, he plays. Which means I do the same things all the rest of you mothers do, I help him with his homework, I cook (or buy) dinner, I watch TV while he watches TV, I play with him and remind him to clean up. Feels pretty legitimate to me. I'm both parents, it doesn't get more legitimate than that.

Parenthood is hard, no matter how many people are in the family. I've always recognized that. I don't think my friends have it easier because they have husbands, I know they still have it hard. I'm just tired of single (or unmarried) parents being the red-headed step-children (not to offend red-heads or step-children) of the parenting world. My son is as legitimate as they come.

Early Thanksgiving

This weekend, I had the great pleasure of attending one of my best friend's 30th birthday party. As far as parties go, it was awesome!! We got to mini-bowl, drink beer, eat pizza, play games, watch the Isiserettes, and most importantly I got to hang out with my friends.

Most of my friends are from grade school, with a few more from high school. But the majority, I've known since 1st grade (one since birth). You get to know a person pretty well when you've known them that long and done that much with them. We're scattered throughout the state (and some in other states), but whenever we get together, it's like we've never missed a beat. I laughed harder than I've laughed in a long time.

So, on my drive home, I reflected on how fortunate I am to have that many friends who I absolutely adore. I feel very blessed. So, no jokes today, just smiles.

Have You Ever...

...gone to the mall with the specific purpose of getting a cookie (and that's it)?

...had a sunburn soooooo bad that when the skin peels you bleed?

...in one day: worked, gone to yoga, fed your child a home cooked meal, went to a boy scout meeting, helped your son with his homework, gave him a bath, vacuumed, went to your parents (who are out of town) to bring in their mail, take out their garbage and recycling, empty the de-humidifiers, and watched Survivor?



Guess what? I have!

Who Knew Spending Time in the Sun Can Burn Your Skin?

I spent Saturday at "Iowa's Super Bowl", the annual match-up between the University of Iowa and Iowa State University. I have no preference for either team...I just went to have a few drinks and enjoy time with my friends.

This required waking up at 5:00 am, drinking at 6:30 am, using the most disgusting Port-a-Potties I've EVER had the distinct pleasure of using, and wearing tennis shoes. Guess what happens when you wear tennis shoes...you don't fall!!! I figured I'd have between 1-5 injuries to report, however, not a single one! My friend Hannah knew we could have trouble and encouraged the tennis shoes (as opposed to the wedge boots) and also let me know when there was a curb or something I could potentially fall over. Thanks, Hannah!

However, the day was not without incident. With the temperature at about 65, I didn't figure I needed to wear sunscreen. I am stupid. My face and scalp are RED. But the kicker is, remember how I had no preference for either team, I was wearing an Iowa Hawkeyes tattoo on one cheek and an Iowa State Cyclones tattoo on the other cheek. Now I have white areas on my cheeks in those shapes. I look awesome. Not to mention the fact that my face is flaking everywhere. Gross.

The Grossest Thing EVER

My friend Joanne who lives in Chicago just sent me an email saying that she was "waiting for the bus, standing under a tree, when a DEAD BIRD fell on her head, got stuck in the cowl neck of her new shirt, and then proceeded to slide down her back."

She's probably got the Bird Flu now.

That is officially the grossest thing that has ever happened to anyone I know.

A Few Things on My Mind

*The British have such a better way of saying things than we do. For instance: "This is balderdash, complete and utter rubbish!" American translation, "Man, that's bullshit...what the fuck!" Some other British English phrases or words that are way better than American English.
nappy = diapers
rubbish bin = trash can
boot = trunk (car trunk that is)
Not to mention the fact that they sound more intelligent than we do.

*I saw a car today that had painted on the window "Pray for 9/11 familys". Nice sentiment, however, you misspelled families.

*Often times, when I'm driving, it feels like I'm the only one that has somewhere to be. Every one's taking their sweet time, driving their Buicks. I mean no harm to these people, but they need to get out of my way. Many drivers are very selfish. I'm very aware of who's around me and try to be as accommodating as possible.

*Do you have to have a strange name to be on the Real World? This year we have, Cohutta, Shavoun, Dunbar. In the past we've had Karamo, Kaia, Teck, Arissa, Alton, Irulan, Trishelle, Brynn, Flora, Elka, Montana, and Genesis. What happened to Norm, Kevin, Julie, Becky, Heather, Eric, and Andre? I guess people with strange names are more apt to be characters, thus being cast on reality television. That is my scientific opinion.

I feel a little better now.

I Have the Answer to All of Your Questions

And the answer is...I don't know the answer to that question.

My inquisitive 6 year-old asks a lot of questions. And I mean A LOT!! They mostly stem from TV...such as:
"Is the green-eyed tree frog the most ferocious frog in the jungle?"
"Are Pygmy Marmosets extinct?"
"What is a scenario?"
"Do they use Jelly Fish to make jelly?"

Just a few of the questions I was asked this weekend. I learned that you can't just say "I don't know" dismissively, because the questions keep coming. I learned to say, "I don't know the answer to that question." Works like a charm! Sometimes I do know the answer, but I don't feel like explaining what a scenario is. Pretty soon, he'll think I'm stupid and won't ask any more questions!

My Poor Baby

As I'm examining my son's mosquito bites from the previous night's "lock out", I noticed a GI-NORMOUS bump on his head. I said "Is that a mosquito bite?" His response, "Yeah, I think so?" My response, "Did you fall or get hit today?" His response, "Well, yeah, I got hit with the metal door and I fell on the tile floor." My response, "I think you fall more that I do!"

His tone was sort of like 'all in a day's work, mom!'

Poor baby.

Cause You Had a Bad Day...

So, yesterday was going OK, until I picked my son up from school and asked him if he had any homework, no he didn't, but he told me he had a "Character Report" from school. He apparently pushed some girl down (his version of events is that they were pushing each other and she fell down--I believe it--I'd like to push this girl too). His punishment was no TV for the night and hot lunch for the following day (goulash=gross). He was just kind of hanging around the house, looking forlorn, like he just didn't know what to do. Not my problem, I'm certainly not going to reward him by playing something with him.


I was getting ready to watch the Justin Timberlake concert on HBO (which I have been waiting for for a VERY long time)...when my phone rings. It's my friend Shaun. It's the kind of conversation I can't have with little bored ears listening, so I go outside to talk on the phone. As I'm talking, William decides to come outside and play because he's SOOOOO bored. After I wrapped things up on the phone, it's time to go inside.....and.....wait for it.....the door is locked. I have an OLD door, the kind that just locks when you shut it. Back door, that's locked too, remember I was going to watch JT, I was secure in my home. Oh snap! Normally, my parent's would have the keys to my house, but remember, I changed the locks the other day--smart girl!!! I had a friend come get me, go to my parents, hoping they'd have the keys to my front door, but, no dice! I grabbed a phone book, called a locksmith and like an Angel of God, he arrived 15 minutes later!

Now, I haven't told you about my back porch. There seems to be some sort of rodent problem, shrews or something. There was a dead rodent on my porch from Wednesday to Monday because I'm deathly afraid of rodents and no one wanted the privilege of removing this thing. By Sunday, this thing stunk to high hell. Gross, gross, grosser. So I've opened the windows on the porch, sprayed Fabreeze, however, there's still a hint of dead rodent on the porch, which is where we waited while the locksmith tried to open the door, because, by now, it's dark and we are being eaten alive by mosquitoes.

I'm making small talk with the locksmith, saying, "We really need all of our stuff in the house, I can't go to work like this!" And my son pipes in, "Yeah, with no bra on!" Nice!

20 minutes and $45 later, we were back in our house! My date with Justin was back on, and oh, did Justin deliver! That's the only thing that could make that kind of day seem insignificant!

I Am Woman Hear Me Roar

We had a little incident this morning. Trying desperately to be on time, as we're running out the door, I tried to close the door to my house and it wouldn't shut. My son probably heard more swear words this morning (and he's heard ALOT) than he's ever heard before. The door WOULD NOT close, WTF. What's a single homeowner to do at 8AM? Call in reinforcements? No can do, every one's going to work. Pay someone, probably not. I will try it fix it myself!

Went to work for a bit, then came home. Opened the windows, turned on the iPod and got to work. Oh, snap, I need some sort of anchor for the screw. Go to the hardware store, get said anchor, it costs a whoping $0.09. I can't even leave the hardware store without spending more money, so I find some door knobs that will work perfectly for other doors. Stop at liquor store (open at 10AM?) to get some beer...working on the house and drinking beer go hand in hand, as I have learned from my dad.

Should be all set. First objective, remove the old door knob and dead bolt. Check. Read instructions for new set. WTF. Who do they write these instructions for? People who know what they're doing, that's who. I'm going to have to wing it. I get going, door knob, check. Dead bolt, not check. This is impossible. Totally impossible. Keep trying, keep trying, 1 1/2 hours later. Done, Done, Done!!!!!! Jump for joy!!!! Go to leave....the door won't shut. WTF, WTF, WTF!!!!!!!!!!!

Turns out, it's not the door, but the door frame that's the problem. I call it the "catch". Oh, well, at least I have a new dead bolt.

It Runs in the Family

My poor little baby, on his first day of 1st Grade, fell off of his seat in the lunchroom.

When asked why he fell (I assume heat exhaustion because it's easily 190 degrees in his school), "I thought there was a back on the chair".

Poor little boy!

NEW Injuries to Report!!

While I haven't had any major accidents in a while (knock on pavement), I have had a few stupid minor injuries:

1) My parents have a new bowl sink in their small downstairs bathroom. When I bent down to pull up my pants, I hit my head on the marble sink. I am officially an idiot.

2) Hit my head on the car getting in. Bugs are harder to get in than they look.

3) Last night, while doing the dishes (well, only half of the dishes--I'm too lazy to really complete the whole task), I sliced my thumb when I was cleaning my pizza cutter. I am officially an idiot, I should no longer be allowed to do dishes :).

That's it for now, however, tonight, I'll be planting some plants and picking pears. There's sure to be a story there!!

Uneventful day at the amusement park

I took my son to Adventureland on Friday. I heard some funny things such as: "...and David thinks that because it's mini-golf, you can just hit the ball until it goes in....and then I was like 'don't think we're on a date, it's just mini-golf!'" I saw the police get called in because someone allegedly punched someone who cut in line. I read lots of interesting things on the wall and had to tell my son not to ask me what some of those things said (do people bring permanent markers to the amusement park? They must!). I've seen things I've never seen before, too numerous to mention, from hair styles to clothes, it really brings out ALL kinds.

All in all, we had a great time, made plenty of line and ride friends, and enjoyed ourselves! Until...I slipped in puke and fell. Thankfully, I was uninjured, but when I fell and turned around, stunned, trying to figure out what made me fall, and when I realized it was puke, I was sooooooooooooooo grossed out!!!!!!! We went to the bathroom, where my son said "You slipped in dog puke" and I said "There's no dogs at Adventureland" and he said, "Hot dog puke, mom!"

The year 2022 is fast approaching!! Are you ready?

As I was opening a pack of batteries last night (for my son's stupid bath toy that I cut my finger on three times--to which he said, I'll rub it, but I'm not kissing your bloody finger) it said use before 2022. That's 15 years from now, for you non-math majors. I started to think, huh, 15 years from now, what will I be doing?

First of all, my son will be 21. I'm pretty sure we'll use the batteries by then. If not now, at least when he's in college, right? Probably by then, batteries will have gone the way of the dinosaur, just like we should have flying cars by now.

What does the next 15 years hold for me? Well my house won't be paid off, that's a pleasant thought. Maybe I'll be married. Maybe I'll have adopted international children like Brangelina. Maybe I'll finally learn french and spanish. Maybe I'll be the person who TiVO's and watches the most shows and I'll earn my much coveted spot in the Guinness Book of World Records. Maybe I'll still be doing everything the same.

My GF's and I talked about making a top 10 things to do before we die list, I think I'll do it to ensure that things aren't the same. Off the top of my head, in no particular order, a few from my top ten:

1) Travel Europe extensively (Amsterdam, London, Paris, Venice...)

2) Take my son to Disney World (totally attainable within the next few years--good for motivation to check things off).

3) Take a vacay with my mom, sister, and aunt. We've talked about it, but it's time to shit or get off the pot.

4) Learn a foreign language.

5) See as many concerts as possible (Jovi, JT, John Mayer---pretty much anything that starts with J).

The list will continue...it's hard!

It's not just me!!!

I received this story from my Aunt Deb of Perryville, MO.

Malodorous

Malodorous. When I came home Saturday night after working at the bingo hall at the Seminary Picnic in 90+ degree heat for three hours I was malodorous. You know what I mean?
Malodorous comes from the Latin mal- or malus meaning bad and the Anglo-French word odur which derived from the Latin olere meaning to smell. So there you have it—to smell bad. And I did.
I went down to the basement to strip off my sopping, stinky clothes to put them in the washer. In the quiet I heard a “scritch, scritch, scritching” sound from the dryer. That was most peculiar. I’d been gone for a couple of days and I knew, as God is my witness, that it hadn’t been used.
Then it hit me. I wasn’t the only malodorous thing in the room. Whatever was in the dryer smelled even worse than I did. And I had a pretty good idea what it was.
I opened the door just a wee crack and confirmed my suspicions when I saw little eyes and a flash of white on black. Whew! Pepe Le Pew. He hadn’t detonated, but the skunk stunk.
I eased the door closed, not wanting to trigger any fragrant discharge, when the absurdity of the situation convulsed me in howls of laughter. There we were, me in my birthday suit and the skunk in the dryer—not a pretty sight and not a pretty situation.
I headed upstairs to the shower, which was all I could focus on at the moment, and in passing suggested to John, choking on laughter, that he might want to call the police to get some ideas what we could do. I think he thought I was nuts; there I was, cackling like a madwoman because we had a potential stink bomb trapped in an appliance.
Oh, did I mention it was the weekend? Well, the dispatcher informed us of what we already knew. Police animal control specialist Bill Buerck was not on duty. But the dispatcher did empathize with us so she called him at home. God bless her.
In the meantime I showered and mulled the situation over while sluicing the dust and dirt down the drain. I had a couple of plans, one pretty stupid one and one fairly sane approach. I ran them past John and then called our neighbors, my boss and the cop, Kate and Joe Martin.
I knew Kate would never forgive me if I didn’t share this hysterical situation with her while it unfolded. Her sense of humor is even more skewed than mine. And I knew Joe would be the voice of reason and experience, and would come up with some ideas, all the while getting a huge charge out of our predicament. I was right on all counts.
They couldn’t pass up the chance to see this drama, and even as we were discussing our options, Bill Buerck called Joe to see what he could do to help. They all rode to the rescue like John Wayne and the cavalry.
I presented my stupid plan: I had an unopened bottle of ether left over from John’s late-father’s medical practice. My insane idea was to put some on a rag and slip it into the dryer. The potential hazards were numerous, including the premature discharge of that stinky stuff while the skunk went lights out. Eyes rolled. Nah, we weren’t going to do this.
The guys had a version of the same semi-sane plan both John and I had—unhook the dryer and cart it upstairs and out to the backyard, then open it up for the little stowaway to make his escape.
And that’s what they did, Bill cutting his hand on a sharp piece of metal in the process, earning the Perryville Purple Heart.
When Bill pulled out the rag he had stuffed in the vent pipe opening, eventually the skunk backed out, and was he ever cute. He was just a little guy to have raised such a ruckus, and he was kind of wobbly on his paws. Kate and I screeched and giggled, and I shot a couple of pictures of him.
He finally waddled around behind the garage after taking an initial course back toward the dryer. Our heroes moved the stinky dryer into the garage for later cleaning to remove just a small amount of residue.
There’s just a hint of Pepe Le Pew left today, but the dryer and all of us are definitely not malodorous. Just a word between us.

Glad to see that this kind of shit doesn't just happen to me! Very, very funny story and thanks to my Aunt Deb for sharing. What's that saying-the apple doesn't fall far from the tree?

Buicks and Oldsmobiles

I'm not judging, far be it for me, but Buicks and Oldsmobiles are THE SLOWEST CARS on the road. Keep an eye out, believe me, I'm right. Mostly old people drive them, so that's totally the reason, and Chevy Lumina's rank a close third with the elderly, so watch out for them. Consider this a public service!

Agree?

I went out in high heels...

And didn't get hurt this weekend!!!!!! Can you believe it? I wore the shoes that I usually fall in, especially when walking on pavement, and I didn't fall! My friend Hannah and I were out and she was like "Be careful, don't fall" and sure enough, I didn't! But I was being extra careful, so props to me for realizing my weaknesses!

So while not falling this weekend, Hannah and I went to the casino and while I was off obtaining drinks, not really taking the Black Jack seriously, my new friend, whose name remains unknown, was betting the fortune thing on my behalf, and low and behold, when I got back, he said "We won!" and I was kind of distracted, so I said "great" half-heartedly until he pointed at the chips....we won like $250 or something!!! Of course we split it, but I was soooo excited! This probably would not have happened if I'd stayed at the table.

Anyway, I realized I'm in love with my new friend and I don't even know his name! Guess I have to go back to the casino!

Could the tides be turning for me? Perhaps?

I know...

Instead of finding my calling, I think I'll devote all of my free time to winning contests! Seriously, if I were to enter every contest I was offered, A. by the law of odds, I should win something, B. it would take up a lot of my free time.

Current contests I'm involved in include Subway Scrabble, Coke Rewards, and well...that's it for now. I'm sure BK or McD will have one soon. There's always something on the Internet.

Can't hurt!!

FYI, no new serious injuries to report and all of my pre-existing injuries have pretty much healed! I'm due, so I'm sure it won't be long until y'all can laugh at my misfortune :)

I should probably get my shit together

So today I was reading an old People magazine with some interesting info:
1) That Harry Potter boy has already made like 32 mil and he's just 21.
2) Charlie Sheen's fiance (a "real estate investor") is 29. BTW, Charlie Sheen is 41, kind of gross, just 'cause it's Charlie Sheen.
3) There is a book...can't remember the details...and the author is 29.

And other things I've discovered recently:
4) My friend Mere has a job where she could travel to Argentina, she's 29.
5) Pretty much all my friends are REALLY successful in their own right.

So what's my problem? How come I can't get my shit together?

I try to remember what I used to dream of doing, being a lawyer, an event planner...then I stall (except for wanting to be an astronaut, not very realistic). When did I stop dreaming? Probably when I got hit with the big fly swatter that is reality. I know being a single mom seems like an excuse, but it is my reality. Which means law school is 10x more difficult (yes I know it can be done, but I don't feel like it), and event planning requires a lot of weekends, which is kind of "our" time. So what's a girl to do? I think about writing, fiction, nonfiction, you name it....but no computer (not the worlds biggest obstacle, one I can perhaps overcome).

That being said....I'm 29. I should get my shit figured out. Apparently, it's not going to happen magically, as I had hoped. Any suggestions?

While not getting injured last night...

I spent the evening catching up on TV that I missed while on vacay. Meaning, Kathy Griffin, Bridezillas, Katie and Peter, and Flip This House (A&E version). These shows take me for a dummy. Before the commercial, they have a "Coming up on Katie and Peter" segment that lasts anywhere from 30 seconds to a minute (depending on the show) as if we can't wait the 1 1/2-3 minutes (depending on the show) to see what these crazy people will do. I, for one, know they are just using this as filler. I mean seriously, for these type of faux-reality shows, they shoot an s-load of footage. Do they really need to pad the show? I like the "Next time on Bridezillas" because I do need a preview, I can't wait another week without a glimpse, but really, I can wait for the commercial break (which I fast forward through anyway--TiVO!).

I'm probably just crazy.

Things that happen to me...and not you

I like to think of myself as a keen observer, hence the title of my blog. As I'll probably find out, I'm just like the rest of you, which in a way makes me sad, but relieved!

My venture into blogging, at the suggestion of my girlfriends, is to chronicle my clumsy life. In the past two weeks, I have suffered three totally embarrassing falls. I've been told that no adult falls as much as I do....only three-year-olds. I've also had my knees likened to a two-year-old's. It makes a girl feel good, to be compared to toddlers (as opposed to very old people who fall) so I'll go with that!

FALL NO. 1
Location: Right outside the exit doors of Toys-R-Us, Waterloo, IA
Situation: High heels, dress, little trip and boom, I went down and I took my poor little six-year-old with me. Most moms would not grab on to their 50 lb child to stabilize them, most moms would do all they could to not bring their child down with them...not me! Fortunately, he didn't get hurt, but I did. Fortunately, our T-R-U is not that busy. Anyone within eye shot would have gotten more than an eye full of my "wobbly bits" as Bridget Jones would call them! I had to go to my parents' to have them do the peroxide and everything because it hurt soooo bad. I basically skinned my entire upper calf. I had to ice it and put salve on it for the next few days. It's been healing somewhat well, until....

Fall No. 2
Location: Lake of the Ozarks---middle of the lake
Situation: I was recently on vacation with my gf's and we were boating. I was in "When in, do as" mode and thought I'd love to try tubing. So they tell me to jump in the water, then get in the tube. Well the tube is like, 3 feet tall and impossible for me to climb in to. So, I need to get back in to the boat. Well there is a little ladder on the boat, and my question was "Is there supposed to be one step?" To which the reply was, "Yep!" This little ladder is pretty much at the level of the boat. So my two gf's are trying to pull me out of the water, bless their hearts, and after about the fifth time of me falling back in because I couldn't get any footing, my friend decides to jump in. "Oh, the ladder isn't down!" Well that makes sense, now doesn't it! When the ladder came down, I was able to climb in, without incident! But I re-injured the above mentioned skinned calf.

Fall No. 3
Location: Lake of the Ozarks---on land
Situation: Nothing too much here, just being a dumb ass, walking down stairs and boom (or slap, which is what it apparently sounded like). New injuries include a possible twisted ankle (healing nicely), a swollen "undernose" (which I thought made me look like a Who from Grinch) and several scrapes and scratches. Another casualty of this fall, my sunglasses!

Hopefully there will be nothing new to report and I will just be able to impress you with the things I observe....probably not.