It’s me. The end.

I cannot believe this day. This may surprise a few of you, but I have actually been working. No lie. I’ve barely had any goof-off time, which, in my opinion, should be outlawed. Equal parts work and wasting time makes for one happy office environment. Actually, a 40/60 ratio would be about right. Or a 30/70. But whatev.

So I am apologizing for that lousy, tiny post I left you with earlier. Boy, I was a whiny bitch. So sorry. However, I did get some nice comments, which was totally unexpected. I didn’t make anybody feel guilty, did I? *evil grin*

Time for home and a nice, relaxing weekend. Mom, sister Katy and I are going to watch Devil Wears Prada on Sunday. Can’t wait for that, as the book was very good and funny. So toodles, my blog-a-licious friends, and I will see you back here on Monday.

Alright, people. I know you are out there. I know you are reading this blog — you cannot hide from me no longer. So I am just going to say this one time (today, and then again later, and again even later):

Leave me some love! Comment love, that is. I need to see who is here, and that I am not just writing this blog to entertain myself. Just a short little something to get me through the day.

For those who are already leaving me comments, Ich Liebe Dich (which is German for YOU KICK ASS).

So that is my request. Please do so now.

(Yes, right now.)

It’s always a day of eye-rolling excitement when the sales reps stop by. They always come when we are super busy and don’t really have time to chat, or when we are really slow and the last thing we want to do is talk to people. Ha.

Anyhoo, today’s sales rep came bearing gifts. Why, so glad to see you! Now gimme the freebies and get the ef out.

Usually we will get a Tootsie Roll or some other lamewad piece of candy in exchange for promises of our business. I’m thinking, bring by a super-sized Almond Joy and I’m yours for life. And a massage would be nice, too. However, today the rep outdid herself. In order to celebrate the new Mexico flights they are offering, she pulled nacho chips and cheese sauce out of her goodie bag. Oh my dear god. That is free lunch right there.

As soon as she left, I waited the appropriate 1.45 seconds before tearing into my food. I didn’t even bother with heating up the cheese sauce — 15 seconds is, oh, about 14.99 seconds too long when you are as hungry as me.

Oh, I was in a orange-y, cheesy, gooey heaven! A veritable fiesta in a bag! Way better than that swedish meatball Lean Cuisine I had originally planned. Mucho yummy-o for my tummy-o. (That is Spanish for “hands off my chips ‘n cheese, sucka.”)

Alright, so what have we learned today, children? I give you this:

1) All bribes are required to come in large packages. Or in gift cards. Or in monetary form.
2) If you are a sales rep and no freebies are forthcoming, I am not listening as you speak. La-la-la-la-la-la.
3) Should there even be a number three? I’m pretty sure 1 and 2 made the point obviously clear.

No more talky now. I am tired. And I know I promised ya’ll a funny hypochondriac story, but I just don’t feel like it anymore. But here’s a tiny tidbit because I love you:

I’m pretty sure milk magically turns to poison when it hits its expiration date.

Ok. That’s it. For real. Bye-bye.

Awww…doesn’t this picture just tug at your heart? It’s my baby girl … *gulp* … scrapbooking. She truly is her mother’s daughter.

Also, as an added bonus, you get to see my scrap room! Or the “living room floor” as it is otherwise called.

I so wish for my own little room so I can scrapbook in private. I want shelves of paper all organized by color, jars of ribbon, drawers full of brads and eyelets. Heck, just a table would be good. I could use the dining room table, but that is just too much trouble. That involves carrying my supplies all the way around the corner. Which is exercise. Which is not allowed.

And now, the piece de resistance (or however you say it … or spell it, for that matter) — a new layout for you! I made this one with scraps leftover from my Making Memories kit.

New: I doodled the heck out of this layout. All the white pen work on here is hand-drawn by yours truly. You could say I let my inner artist out. Or not. But either way, there ya go.

The title — A Bowling Genius. I realize after the fact that I spelled “genius” wrong. Gotta love those layouts created after midnight. I’m a nerd.

My new kits should start coming in next week, so more cool stuff coming your way. For those who care — Lorraine, I think you may be it — I’ll be getting papers from Moments Defined, American Crafts, Sassafras Lass, Scrapworks, and We R Memory Keepers.

Well that wasn’t very interesting, now was it? Guess I really will have to tell you a hypochondriac story to liven things up a bit. Next post.

I’ve come to the conclusion that I have no life. This blog has got to be the most boring blog ever in bloggerdom. All I ever talk about is scrapbooking and how much I hate cooking (I really, really do hate it) and other things that are basically very uninteresting.

So consider this an apology. Anyone who is reading this — I appreciate your show of support and the fact that you continue to read my posts everyday as if they were from Dr. Gott himself and you are a hypochondriac looking for a cure.

Oh, by the way, did I tell you I am a hypochondriac? Yeah, that’s good news. I will tell you some crazy stories about it sometime. I think you will get a kick out of laughing at my expense (you bitches).

Okay, going home now. Hopefully I will have lots of priceless gems to report to you in the morning. Nighty night!

My daughter has freakin’ muscles! What?! I think it should be against the rules to have a child that is more buff than their own mother. The world’s done flipped upside down. Eh.

Of course, it is partly my own fault. I’m thinking sitting on your ass all day isn’t a viable exercise regimen. Who knew? Here’s my day in a nutshell:

1) Turn off alarm at 8:30 a.m. Go back to bed.
2) Get out of bed at 9 a.m. and scramble to get ready in 10 minutes.
3) Out the door at 9:15-ish for the leisurely (read: bat out of hell) ride to work.
4) Arrive at work at 9:30 (ish, again) and sit down in front of computer.
5) Still sitting down.
6) Why, lookie me … sitting down.
7) Lunch break — whooo hoo! Off to get a latte and read my book, all while sitting down. Very much multi-tasking here.
Back to work at 1 p.m. to have a nice rest-of-day sit down.
9) 5:30 p.m. and work is finally over. Whew! I’m just plain exhausted.
10) Home now. A little food, tv, some scrapbooking, some reading, and lot of lounging on the couch. I mean, after a long day at work, who’d blame me?
11) So tired now. Crawl in bed to read my scrapbook magazines or watch some tv on the DVR. This day has just plain wore me out! I really need this time to just relax and veg, to rest up for the next day when I start the hellish cycle all over again.

Well, aren’t you pooped just reading this list? I know I’m pooped just writing it. I never knew how much I do in a day. I figured by now, after 10 years of this, the pounds should be dripping off me. Something is definitely not right here.

Gotta get back to work now. I have some very important sitting to do.

…I am seriously choking. My co-worker, Karen, gets all the wacko customers. Thank god. But this time, the wacko-ness spread to my side of the room, and that’s not even funny. This chic had so much perfume on it was unreal. I am so not kidding you.

Let me put it this way: If you could actually see her perfume in this room, you would have thought someone opened the door and let the clouds roll in.

Plus, the stuff didn’t even smell that good. No perfume needs to be that spicy. Blech.

You know what gets me the most? She wasn’t even going anywhere! Who in sam hill-nasty-smelling-nose hair-singeing-vomit-inducing-stanky-poo said wearing sweats and a pony tail meant you could bathe in eau de crappy? The devil, that’s who.

Number 1 — My husband tells me last night that the shirt I was wearing is the ugliest shirt he’s ever seen. Mind you, I’ve been wearing this shirt for nigh on three years. So why the complaint now?

The biggest problem with this is the fact that I wore this shirt when we went to New York City back in May 2003. And I got lots of photos taken in said shirt. So basically all the photos are tainted, useless things. Hmmpf.

However, I’ve decided I will wear the shirt even more now just to irritate the crap out of him. Only fair, I think.

Number 2 — Why the hell say cook breadsticks at 375-degrees for 4 minutes if you don’t freakin’ mean it? Yet another point on my side for reasons not to have me cooking.

Word to instruction writers: Don’t play tricks on me in the kitchen. If you mean 8 minutes, say 8 minutes. Don’t make me guess as to how long you really mean to cook the damn breadsticks. Even worse, don’t make me bite into a golden delicious looking piece of bread only to find that is practically frozen in the middle. Not good, my friends, not good.

I am so unnaturally in love with my DVR, it ain’t even funny. How did I ever survive without this thing? If you don’t have one, trust me — it will be the best investment you will ever make. Seriously.

Here is my current list of shows that my DVR records for me:

DIY Scrapbooking — Like, 3 shows a day. I’m showing my nerdiness here, but I LURVE this show! It is like my drug.

The Soup — Gots to get me some reality scoop! This show is frickin’ funny! It is recaps of all the stupid crap that’s happened during the week. And believe me, there’s LOTS of stupid crap. Good times.

Child Star Confidential — It is so much fun to see the little babies all grown up! I’m not kidding you — Curly Sue is in a hard rock band. Now how crazy is that?

My Fair Brady — I may have mentioned before how much I heart this show. Mostly because Peter Brady … er, Christopher Knight … looks so darn sexy. But secondly because he and his girlfriend, Adrienne Currey, fight all the time and have really weird issues and basically make me feel really, really normal.

I Wanna Be a Soap Star — There are 10 people vying for a spot on One Life to Live and it is hi-freakin-larious! One girl, Kelly, is the Supreme Bizarro, and does weird Celine Dion-like movements with her arms while she talks. Is she freaking quoting Shakespeare or trying to speak a sentence? It is hard to tell.

Last Comic Standing — I loves me some funny people! Stand-up comedy rawks. I am rooting for Kristen Key. Any girl who pierced her boobies so she would have shiny nipples is the shiz-nit. Or however you say it.

Big John: One Year Later — Remember last week when I was all PMS-y and crying over those stupid weight loss/plastic surgery/wedding shows? Well, here’s the result. I now feel the need to check up on Big John and see how he’s doing. Oh dear god.

If it wasn’t for my faithful friend, el DVR-o, I would never remember to watch all these shows. And there’s no way I’d be messin’ with stupid VCR tapes trying to record all this crap. Fug that. That is why my DVR is my new best friend. I just have to hit one button and wall-lah (that is French for ta-da), I have shows galore to keep me entertained when I have no scrapbooking, reading, cleaning, kid-minding, cooking, husband-keeping-happy-ing, cat whispering, or work to do.

Oh, who am I kidding? I watch tv, scrapbook and read before all that other crap. You gotta make time for your friends, people. How unselfish am I?

On a side note, a bit of information to please the non-scrappers:

At bathtime last night, I learned something new — my hair is much too long for fancy shampoo horns, but just right for sexy soapy pompadour. Yes.

I don’t mean “suck it” — I’m sorry and I love you.

I went to the scrapbook store on Saturday, which was probably the most excitement I had all weekend. I picked up the new Daisy D’s paper, which is super cute and perfect for the remaining photos I have of Autumn. See, look:

Wow, that girl can model. I am going to have to do another photo shoot soon. I’ve got lots of pretty new kits coming in July that are just begging for it!

I want to apologize to all the non-scrappers that have to read these posts and stare at all my layout pictures. I’m a bit obsessed with my hobby, so suck it.

Toodles!

So Jerry and I went grocery shopping yesterday. It was supposed to have been a light trip — dog food, cat food, lunch items for the girls this week. Imagine my surprise when the register rang up $112 worth of stuff. WTF? Who put that Star magazine in the cart? Why are we buying shampoo that costs 7-freakin’-dollars? And this 60-minute Tracfone card has GOT to go.

Hold up! Where did this blasted fruit come from? Who eats this crap?

That’s right. Jerry and Paige got a bright idea about this thing they call fruit. The cart is full of apples, oranges, bananas, grapes and strawberries — we were a veritable farmer’s market on wheels (but with cat litter on the bottom).

Alright, I’m all in for a challenge. It is quite possible I could forgo my nightly Little Debbie cake for some apple chunks with peanut butter. So we are at home putting groceries away, and Jerry tells me I need to wash the fruit. Excuse me? I have to “prepare” the fruit? Why, that’s practically COOKING and lord knows I don’t take kindly to that type of torture.

Well, fine. So I’m washing the strawberries. They look so pretty and luscious and red! Maybe this fruit thing was not such a bad idea after all! But wait …

The grapes had a special gift just for me. In the bottom of the strainer was a fly and a flippin’ spider! Alive and wriggling. Good god. Jerry said it is normal for bugs and stuff to be on your fruit, but I say no. That’s just dang creepy.

Okie dokey … back to the Little Debbie’s. Swiss Cake Roll, anyone?

Alright, it is finally 5:30 and I can finally put this work crap behind me. Outside, the street fair has started and they are playing some cool ass late 80s/early 90s roller skating music — Salt ‘N Pepa, Tone Loc, Kriss Kross — you know, music you can backward skate to. Good times.

So, yeah, Main Street is full of carnival rides — the best ones like the Zipper, Tilt-a-Whirl, Ferris Wheel and more. It looks like such fun out there. If it wasn’t so frickin’ hot, maybe I’d go take a spin on the Sizzler. But I won’t. I don’t do heat.

However, I will give kudos to the mechanics who put up these rides. Yesterday it was pouring down rain, like practically the sideways kind, and they were out there doing their jobs like nobody’s business. Thems dedicated carnies!

Ok, kids, I’m out. I’ll be back on Monday with more good stuff. Peace, yo.

Fridays are supposed to be fun days. Last day of the work week, start of the weekend, I get to wear jeans to work — I mean, come on people, what’s better than that?! (Well, wearing jeans everyday to work would be nice, but I digress.)

So what the ef is life doing to me by giving me a speeding ticket on my way to work this morning? That’s bullcrap. It is so totally not fair that I got caught. Ger. Plus, going 59 in a 40 is not technically speeding. I mean, who goes freakin’ 40 miles per hour? Grannies, that’s who.

And then, I can’t even goof off properly today. People keep calling here as if this is a place of business and they are going to buy something.

I thought perhaps I might get a little break when my boss asks me if I wanted to have lunch with her at the new casino that opened up yesterday. Why yes I do! Sounded like a great idea until about 20 minutes after getting our order taken, the waiter comes out and said the cooks hadn’t even started on our food. Excuse me, I had a salad. If someone is cooking my salad, we definitely have some problems.

And the icing on the cake? The bookstore’s espresso machine was el-broke-a-mundo. Waaah! No coffee-breath for me today. It just wasn’t meant to be.

There is an upside to this day — I got to see my baby! I picked her up when she got home from church camp and I could have kissed her all over. And get this: she missed me, too. Ahhhh. So love that girl.

There are lots of good reasons to be thankful for tomorrow. For one, it is Friday. Duh. Who can’t love a Friday? Secondly, and most importantly, my baby is coming home from church camp! If I was any more excited I’d be twins.

Well that is only two reasons to be thankful for tomorrow, but they are pretty darn good ones.

But back to my daughter…

I miss her so much! I can’t believe how much I want her to come home. Have I finally hit that stage in my motherhood where I actually like having my daughter home with me? Wow. Me big girl now.

Usually I crave a little alone time. When Autumn goes to her dad’s for a weekend, it’s always a welcome reprieve. But this week-long bit has got to stop! I feel a desperate need to cuddle, and that, coupled with this blasted PMS, does not a happy mommy make.

Sigh.

Roll on, Friday. I’m ready for ya.

I created a gastronomical miracle last night since I was forced, yet again, to cook dinner. Here’s the recipie so you, too, can impress your loved ones with this fantastical concoction:

2 frozen burritos (any kind — mine were from El Charito)
sour cream
salsa
shredded cheese

Here’s the tough part:

Put burritos on a paper plate and microwave as usual. Top with remaining ingredients for a to-die-for meal!

I’m telling you, this masterpiece was just as authentically mexican looking as, say, something that looks nothing like real mexican food. But it tasted good, dammit!

So I made my two burritos first, and to punish Jerry for his trickery, I made him make his own burritos when he got out of bed at 9 p.m. Take that, Eating-In Guy!

On a side note, if I weren’t so convinced my vitamins were good for me, there’s no way in hell I’d swallow these horse pills for fun. It’s like a choke and a Heimlich waiting to happen.

I just had a nice after-hours experience with Southwest Airlines. Don’t they know not to mess with me when I am staying late without pay?! Here’s the scoop:

I was changing a customer’s flight from 6 a.m. tomorrow to 2 p.m. that afternoon. First lady changes it. Thank you, goodbye, et cetera. But my fax didn’t come over right away, and the online check-in thingy still has the old flight on it. So I call back. The reservation had not been changed. Ger. So second lady changes it no problemo. Goodie! Fax is coming over nicely. Right flight – wrong date. Instead of tomorrow, June 22, she got him on July 22. Well, poop.

Third times a charm right? Wrong. This time I get the most retarded-est of the bunch who didn’t quite get what I was needing. Change the July 22 flight to June 22. Easy-peasy. Well, apparently that requires some massive finagle-ing on Southwest Airline’s part because I was on hold for hours. (Okay, minutes, but still…)

Now I’m exhausted and it is way past closing time and I’m sitting here working for free. Well, not working, per se, but free nonetheless.

Bye bye and thank you for reading my blog. Come again.

I’ve been feeling a little guilty lately about not including any photos of the family dog in this blog. So here she is — my Super Dog, Abby, with my step-daughter, Paige. Abby loves the occassional romp on the tramp! Plus, she has other tricks as well. A list for you:

*She can lick you repeatedly, even after you tell her to quit it.

*She can beg for biscuits. A lot. Within seconds of getting one. This is probably her best trick.

*If no biscuit is forthcoming, she can turn her back on you, then look over her shoulder with downcast, sad doggy eyes.

*She can chase cars and keep up with them. The cars love it. The drivers do not.

*She can roll on her back, baring her stomach, anytime you stare at her too long. I’m thinking this means “rub me here” but I could be wrong.

*She has the uncanny ability to run through the muddiest water she can find. Especially after baths. She is very, very good at this.

*Oh, she can also sit, shake, lay down, high five and so forth, but none of these “fancy dog tricks” really impress me.

Yes, my Abby is quite a talented girl indeed. She puts all the other neighborhood dogs to shame. I see a circus act in her future.

I was foiled! Take-Out Girl was defeated by Eating-In Guy and I am in complete and utter shock.

Last night, Jerry told me to wake him up when I got home and we would cook dinner together. I mean, I figured he would do most of the cooking and I would, like, set the timer on the oven or something. But he tricked me! He pretended my waking-up techniques weren’t working and stayed “asleep” for hours. He is a psychological genius.

Poop. So I suppose if anyone is going to be eating, I’d be the one to make it happen. I’m opening cabinets and trying to decide which item would take the least effort. The Hamburger Helper is a good idea, but thawing out meat is a pain in the ass. No thank you to the pork chops — large meat items are strictly Jerry-territory (he doesn’t know this, but I say it is true). I could make some tuna fish, but dammit if Jerry didn’t eat the family-size Doritoes all by himself. Yes, I said FAMILY-size. That boy loves his chips.

Oh, hell’s bells. I ended up making some cheesy chicken enchilada thing. Now, don’t get all excited — it was still out of a box and required 15 minutes of my time to “stir occassionally.” I’m telling you, though, stirring stuff is exhausting, and the “occassionally” bit is a load of crap.

And as soon as I tell Jerry that dinner is ready, he is amazingly well-rested and ready to go. Hmmm. Interesting. Methinks someone’s been duped.

Funny story from work today: My co-worker, Karen, had a customer come in and want to take a cruise to Kokomo. She’s like, Kokomo? WTF? (Except she didn’t really say that.) And the dude goes, Yeah, like in the Beach Boys song. Isn’t that a riot?! If he’s going to Kokomo (which doesn’t exist, by the way — she looked it up), I’m going to Narnia or Middle Earth or somewhere equally as fun.

Alrighty, time to go. Heading home so Jerry and I can make dinner together. Which basically means he will make dinner and I will stand in the kitchen looking pretty.

Good morning, my peeps! In case you weren’t aware, it is 4 days until the weekend. Don’t worry — I’ll keep track for you.

Now, down to business.

To my sister Katy: Just because you finally call me three days after you said you would does not mean I forgive you.

To my husband Jerry: Anything and everything you do may or absolutely will become blog fodder. In other words, be on your best behavior at all times. And do not cross me. Ever.

To all my loyal blog readers: Do I have loyal blog readers? Well, if so, you know who you are and I loves you all!!

To my sister Katy (again): Alright, I’ve thought about it. I suppose since your life is way cooler than mine, you probably had better things to do besides call your old hag sister. So I WILL forgive you. This time.

To all the people who have yet to read my blog: What is wrong with you?! You better jump on this bandwagon and fast. You are missing all the fun. And that is just a shame.

To my in-laws: Thank you for feeding me last night. The pizza was delish — even more so since I did not have to pay for it or cook it. Yay! I wiggled my way out of cooking once again! If I had super powers, that would totally be it. I’d be like Take-Out Girl and would always find a way to not cook. And I could never be foiled by Eating-In Guy (i.e. Jerry). Ever. And that would just be dang cool.

Okay, no more talky talky. Goodbye.