I'll Tell the World

I'm trying to figure out a funny way to tell my friends and family that we're pregnant (when it happens - don't freak out on me; I'm not pregnant yet!). Last time, Mr. Bee sent out an email to our friends:

Subject: Life-altering Health Issue

Dear Friends,

I don't mean to catch you off-guard by any of this, but (Mama Bee) has a doctor's appointment soon and we may have less than 8 months left. We don't think it's contagious, but we're pretty sure I gave it to her (don't worry, I don't expect to give it to anyone else). If it turns out she got it from someone else I'll be very upset.

(Mama Bee)'s appearance may be significantly affected and our lives will definitely be changed forever.

We will need your support and encouragement during this terrifying time (for Kola [our dog at the time]). No, really. Baby toys scare the shit out of her.

- Mr. Bee

I definitely need to start brainstorming...


Song title: I'll Tell the World by Ever Stays Red

Yum Yum

Seriously, what is wrong with me?!
Last week, we discussed my new obsession with designer maternity clothing.

(Yeah, I've already bought one shirt on ebay and I'm even pondering whether or not to contact the company directly for some blog "sponsoring". Yeah, I'm that desperate for these clothes!)

Well, I was shopping for a wedding gift this weekend when I spotted a store from my past:
See, at some point during my college years, I discovered Godiva Chocolates. I would save my money and take the bus downtown to Westlake Center. I would buy maybe 4 truffles and carry them carefully home, on the dirty dirty bus, back to my shitty basement apartment.

Seriously, it was a really crappy apartment. Like my bedroom was literally 6 feet by 12 feet. Sounds roomy, but imagine it packed with a desk, dresser and twin size bed. It was more like a college jail cell than anything.

But I digress.

Godiva was my tiny little luxury during college and I haven't really eaten the delicious chocolates since then.

Until this weekend, when the siren's song was just too tempting. I went in for a few little truffles and came out with this:

And now that bag is empty. So sad.

And I have officially fallen off the Godiva wagon.

I'm pretty sure I got the lemon chiffon truffle, the strawberry truffle and the crack-flavored truffle, because I couldn't put that shit down and now I'm just craving more.

Oh, I was also doing some gardening today and seem to have misplaced my money-growing tree. If you have noticed one laying around anywhere, could you let me know? 'Cause this Godiva/crack habit is gonna suck me dry if I don't start pooping money soon...


Song title: Yum Yum by Spoonie Gee

Baby You've Been On My Mind

My old/new obsession
How come the minute you decide that you are ready to have another baby, you suddenly can not think of anything else?

Is it the hormones? Well, I guess I haven't actually conceived yet, so that's probably not right.

Maybe it's just a defense mechanism designed to keep pregnancy entertaining and blind you from everything it's taken 20 months to forget?

All I know is that I am now obsessed with maternity clothes. And I'm not talking your run-of-the-mill maternity muu muus:


Aren't they pretty?!

Well they should be for $125 a piece.

That's right, my friends. Not only am I obsessed with pregnancy and prego clothes, I'm obsessed with fancy schmancy prego clothes.

I found this website, Isabella Oliver, before I realized that it is basically the maternity shop to the stars. I'm determined to look cute this go around. When I was prego with Baby Bee, I looked like a billboard for the juniors department of Nordstrom. You know, if they were sponsoring Juno, but old and not as cute or something.

But I don't know if I can drop that much money on clothes. I would argue that it's a ridiculous amount to spend on clothes that will only be worn 9 months, but, to be honest, I probably rotate most of my clothes that often anyway.

Except most of my shirts don't cost $125 a piece.

Right now I'm wearing a shirt from the juniors department of JC Penney.


It was "Buy One, Get One Free."

'nuf said.


Baby You've Been On My Mind by Linda Ronstadt

Tick, Tick, Tick

Tick...Tick...Tick...
What's that? Oh, just my ovaries ticking. Never you mind those. It'll go away on it's own, right?

...

A week ago, we went up to Seattle for Mr. Bee's Company Holiday Party Dinner (surely if there is only cocktails and dinner, one can not call that a party, right?). Somehow everyone and their mom (okay, maybe not literally their moms...) has come down with a really horrible, debilitating condition.

Pregnancy.

And for pretty much everyone I know, it's Numeros Dos de los ninos. (That's Number Two for you dumbies out there.) So, of course, practically every person I spoke to asked us, "When are you guys going to have another?!".

To which I answered, "When I stop loving to drink!" and then downed a mouthful of rum from my ginormous cocktail.

But to be honest, I have been thinking more about the when, where and how...

How: Hmmm...well, I'm guessing Mr. Bee will be involved somehow, but no funny business, I promise.

Where: I'll go out on a limb here and just say that it will probably occur within the city limits. Which city, I ain't saying.

When: Damn, what is this? The Spanish Inquisition? (Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!!)

My husband is still working 2+ hours away from home, 4 days a week (but has been home for the last few weeks which I think has affected my stance on the issue). But my ovaries have started calling I'm starting think I might be ready for another. Or more accurately, that in 9+ months I could possibly be ready for another.

Which has got me thinking and remembering my last pregnancy.

I had forgotten how scary pregnancy is. Sure, all that vomiting and peeing every five minutes is a thrill ride of fun. But beneath all the excitement, I remember this kind of overwhelming fear and worry.

Will my baby be okay? Will she be healthy? Will we be okay if she's not? Do I get tested to see if she will have an 11th toe or do I just wait to find out later?

I will worry about eating right. About gaining enough, but not too much weight. About taking my prenatal vitamins and seeing the doctor regularly.

And then you get tackled by something completely out of left field.

When I was around 7 months or so pregnant with Bee, I woke around 3 a.m. for my hourly hardly-wake-up-to-pee-in-the-dark-session. It was just a regular night until (sorry for the TMI) I finished up peeing and found that I was bleeding.

I have never been so scared in my entire life.

I immediately yelled at Mr. Bee from the bathroom for him to wake up and told him what was going on. I laid down in bed while he tried to contact the on-call doctor on the phone. After leaving a message with the message service and waiting 15 minutes, my general opinion was "fuck them" and we called 911. Pretty embarrassing to have an ambulance full of aid people in my bedroom at 3 o'clock in the morning, but at least none of them were super hot. Now *that* would have been a cause for alarm!

Long story, well, long (sorry), we ended up going to the local hospital to be monitored and everything appeared to be okay. It never happened again and they never had an explanation for me.

But despite all of that, I'll (mostly) voluntarily do it all again.

At least I have another month before it even becomes an option to get knocked up 'cause girlfriend ain't gonna be all nauseous and tired without a hubbie around to help in the evenings. So not an option.

But, in the meantime, pass the wine!


Song title: Tick, Tick, Tick by My Dream Is Yours

Make Yourself Comfortable

Juicy or Janky?
At what point does dressing comfortably cross the line to going shopping in your pajamas? Even though I was all fashioned out yesterday, the moment I got out of the car with Baby Bee to do some errands I had a wave of fear wash over me. "Did I forget to change out of my pajamas before leaving the house?!?!" I thought.

You do the math:
1 Juicy Couture Track Suit + 1 pair of Uggs = 1 fashionable mom wearing sweats and slippers.


Song title: Make Yourself Comfortable by Bette Midler

Clone

I'm thinking their might be a slight resemblance between me and Baby Bee...












Sweet Baby Jesus, we even have the same hair cut!


Song title: Clone by Avail

Do You Know Who I Am

Something has been happening lately that has been creeping me out just a bit.

"Clowns?" you ask.

No. Not as creepy as clowns.

I've realized that pretty much everyone that I have ever met in my life knows each other somehow.

It started with Mr. Bee. When we first met, I was dating NerdBoy. Mr. Bee was dating Chick. It wasn't until Mr. Bee started dating Chick that Nerdboy and Chick realized that they were cousins! What?! Yeah! Like long lost cousins that had always heard about each other but had never met.

Then, a few years ago, I found out that one of my BFFs (who I met years out of college) went to the rival high school. Not only had we probably been in the same place once or twice but she also knew one of my best friends from college (they went to the same high school!)

Oh, and one of Mr. Bee's cousins is dating a girl I went to high school with.

And ANOTHER friend (who I met a few years ago) is friends with a girl at work who is dating one of my high school boyfriends. So at my friend's wedding rehearsal, when she happened upon SuperDoucheExBoyfriend (who was a server at her wedding venue), they started chatting it up while I was all "WTF! How do you know each other?!"

THEN, this weekend I had yet another wedding (I've got some ooey gooey awesome stories to be shared at a later date regarding this event!). I've been working with this bride and her mom for months and it's not until I slightly recognize one of her bridesmaids at her rehearsal that THEY realize that we all went to high school together. So her wedding reception was practically a who's who of teachers, students, and parents of students who I went to school with for years decades.

Oh, and here's the topper:
A few months ago, I got an invitation to be "friends" with someone on Facebook. I didn't really know who the person was but figured that I'd had probably met them at an event or maybe they were a local wedding vendor/colleague. I later met this lady at a local mom's group. THEN, while totally Facebook stalking old friends of mine, I found out that this particular girl is friends with the older sister of my high school BFF who after graduation disappeared from the face of the planet! So random mom group/Facebook lady is friends with high school BFF's sister?!

It is totally blowing my mind that practically everyone I meet is somehow already connected to my life! Coincidence? I don't know. But I'm starting to think that everyone is 6 degrees of separation from Mama Bee!


Updated to Add: Okay, this is getting fucking crazy. Yesterday I added Luke Burbank (the host of TBTL - the coolest radio show evar) to my Facebook friends. Oh yeah, I'm that cool. Anywho, so I'm perusing Luke's Facebook page and who do I see added him as a friend just a few days ago. The same ex-BFF's older sister as above!!! WTF!! This is seriously creeping me the fuck out, dudes!!

Song title: Do You Know Who I Am by Elvis Presley

Living In A Fantasy

Per our normal routine, after Baby Bee's breakfast, we sat down for Sesame Street. Now Sesame Street just started a new season. Yes, Moms all around the world rejoice!!

But that's not all. I usually lose myself in the computer and internets while Bee watches random Street-ness. However, this morning, something caught my eye.



Hells yes, Sesame Street! HELLS YES!! Needless to say, this episode will not be deleted from our TiVo any time soon. Even dressed up like the Shoe Fairy, he's still cute!

Author's Note: Yeah, I know NPH doesn't play for my team, but I just try to ignore that. He's way to charming and cute to not have Sesame Street fantasies about him! (Kidding, Mr. Bee!)


Song title: Living In A Fantasy by Artist: Leo Sayer

Angry People

Have I Offended You? Get in line...
Last night, Mr. Bee approached me about how I might eventually offend someone who reads this blog. My general response was: "okay." ::shrug:: I tried to convince him that I do use some semblance of tact when writing this. I really detest people who are cowards until they get online and decide to say/type things that they would never really say to anyone's face.

I tried to convince Mr. Bee that I'm not one of those people and I would, in fact, be happy to repeat anything I put in this blog to any one in my life. Actually, many of you get the chance to hear these stories multiple times! If the tens of people, who are obviously so insanely bored that they wander over to this P.O.S. blog, get offended, then maybe they should delete their Mama Bee Bookmark, yeah? By the end of our conversation, we both decided that a more accurate title for the blog should be "Everybody Can Suck It."


Mmmmm...I love the smell of cancer in the morning...
I should begin by saying that this topic was one of those that Mr. Bee thought could/would offend people. So, yeah, um, sorry?

**UPDATE: To totally plagarize Pearl, I feel the need to specify that I guess I hate the smoke, not the smoker. And I really hate using the word "hate", too. So hate = dislike. God, I'm such a push-over...**

One of the super awesome and fantastic things about living in a 3-floor walk up apartment (gag) is that is gets ridiculously hot when it's 90+ degrees outside. We have one sliding glass door and a couple windows that have to be open pretty much all day long to keep the place from cooking Baby Bee and my's internal organs.

So every morning, first thing I do is open the slider door and get a fan going to get some cool morning air in the apartment. Roughly 30 seconds after I do this, the douche living below me decides to have his first of about a billion cigarettes out on his balcony. This, of course, fills my apartment instantly with cigarette (and other types...hint, hint) of smoke. I have to run to the balcony and turn the fan around as fast as I can and then we get to spend the next ten minutes roasting in stale cigarette smoke.

**If you are easily offended and/or smoke, you may want to turn away now. Don't worry we'll tell you when it's safe to come back**

I. Hate. Smokers.

5 Reasons Why I Hate Smokers

1. They are selfish.
Smokers totally don't care that they are spreading their love of cancer to innocent bystanders. Whether it's while you are sitting pleasantly in your own apartment or walking down the street, smokers don't usually care if they are puffing away and blowing smoke in to your face. To quote Stephanie Tanner, "How Rude!"

2. They litter
I'm really not trying to go on a tirade, but it totally disgusts me to see how much of the litter on the road, walkways, freeways, etc. is used cigarette butts. Really? Just because your trash is small doesn't mean that every single smoker can toss their trash out the window.

3. They are dangerous
Seriously? Since when it is okay to toss something on FIRE out your car window?! Have you noticed those lovely black patches of grass near the freeway? Yeah, that's from you, Smoker. All those brush fires aren't spontaneous combustion, retards. And I swear to God, if you hit my car with your lit cigarette, I will follow you until we're at a stop light and throw something on fire in to YOUR car! And, if you have to litter, can you at least snub out your cigarette first? You don't see normal people walking around just dropping crap on fire on the ground do you?

4. Ouch!
Anyone ever been hit by a lit cigarette in a night club/bar? I have! This has changed significantly since Washington changed it's smoking laws (and since I have become an old fuddy-duddy who doesn't ever go out anymore), but the memories still haunt me!

5. OK, I'm out
Okay, so I didn't really have 5 reasons, but I still don't like smokers. It's dirty, it's unhealthy, and as long as you have the "right" to kill yourself with smoke, I should have the "right" to not have smoke blown in my friggin' window every morning.

Rant over.

I apologize sincerely if I happen to offend anyone with this crappy blog. Oh yeah, and if I did offend you? Suck it.


Song title: Angry People by Barenaked Ladies

Hello In There

Hello Everybody!
First things first, I have a few blawg shout outs to take care of...

Welcome to RO, Kelcey, and Pearl who have recently visited my random musings of a blog and have been nice enough to comment (unlike those other stalkers friends of mine who read but never comment!! This doesn't apply to you, Mrs. J - we know you love, stalk, obsess and comment about/with us. It's actually somewhat troubling...)

And a special "What! What!" to RO for shouting out Mama Bee on her blog before I even got the chance on mine!

I also have to shout out to the Bunco Ladies (and yes, I do play an "old lady dice game". Suck it.) who I finally got the chance to visit with last night! I've missed the last two months of Bunco and narrowly avoided having to miss last night's game too.

It was really weird having so many girls come up to me and comment/compliment me on my blog! It was like half of my tens were there. And on the baby front, I was relieved to find out that the other young babies, who are around Baby Bee's age, aren't walking yet either. Phew! I guess I can cancel that helmet order I put in a couple days ago...Seriously, I was starting to get worried that I was going to have to attend Baby Bee's prom just so I could hold her hands for balance when she's walks...


Stuff And Nonsense
Last week I was emailing a friend and she told me about a word that her and her husband made up that means anything cute such as a puppy, baby, me (obviously). Mr. Bee and I have made up many words or phrases over the years, such as "princess rainbow monkey squirrel" (you had to be there). That got me thinking...

Do you have a funny/unique/strange word/phrase/tradition that you and your significant other created?

Now since I'm asking for your contributions, it's only fair that I share Mr. Bee and I's retardedness:

Our weirdest (because there is a long list of strange things we call each other and other people) started with us signing "I Love You" to each other. It began as one of us pointing to an eye, making a heart with both hands over your heart, and then pointing to the other person. We soon realized that this didn't necessarily work if you were talking on the phone, driving a car, really anything that requires you to not have both hands free. So this was born:

please note the epileptic-like hand motion
that usually looks like a contorting
monkey claw trying to eat your face off





So there's one of our many embarrassing traditions from Mr. Bee and I. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to see these photos online...


Song title: Hello In There by 10,000 Maniacs, Stuff and Nonsense by Belinda Carlisle

I'm Gonna Miss You Forever

Today has been full of moving-related appointments here in the F-Dub house. The first appointment of the day was with Nielsen TV Ratings. Now that we are officially no longer a Nielsen Household, I can finally publicly discuss it.

For those of you that don't know, Nielsen TV Ratings is the huge company in charge of telling the big boss guys at say NBC, ABC, CBS, etc. what shows people actually watch. They put something in your TiVo (I imagine some sort of tiny little man with a clipboard and a cell phone?) that keeps track of the programs you are watching. You also have a little box that gets mad at you every 40 minutes or so and makes you press a button so they know you are still watching a program and aren't totally distracted writing a pointless blog post or something.

Needless to say, I loved participating. Being a hopeless (and somewhat disturbed) television addict, I love knowing that my television preferences actually mean something. I think just our house represented approximately 11,000 people in the area. I want to watch The Hills? Suck it, Federal Way! I represent YOU! Muuuaaaahahahahaha!!! But I digress...

We got approached by the Nielsen people a little more than a year ago, but because they only care what people with children watch, we had to wait until Baby Bee made her appearance before we could participate. And since they choose households randomly by address, now that we are moving to what I will call "The Hills Ghetto," our little black boxes (or "Neil" as we call him at home) can't come with us.

Mr. Bee is probably relieved. He constantly is freaking out when he sees me watching The Hills or something like Celebrity Circus (I missed it last night! Will someone tell me what it was about?!). He starts arguing that because we represent so many people and we are influencing what stays on the air, we can't encourage crappy tv shows. I, on the other hand, proudly take full credit for keeping that crap on the air! There just aren't any other choices!! Sure, I'd rather by watching Pushing Daisies or How I Met Your Mother, but thank you Writer's Strike for screwing up my television/life schedule. Mama needs some new tv!!


I Could Write A Book
No, I really couldn't write a book, but am I like one of the only bloggers in the blogosphere that isn't a professional writer? "What?! You aren't a professional writer?!" you ask? Shocked? Surprised? Yeah, I didn't think so...


Song Title: I'm Gonna Miss You Forever by Aaron Carter; I Could Write A Book by Ella Fitzgerald

Manic Monday

With a hectic weekend, the opportunities to blog have been few and far in-between. You'll have to excuse me now because I have so many thoughts circling in my head! Somehow you'll have to attempt to make sense of my Montezuma's Revenge of the Blog.


Happy Birthday to Me
Guess what I got for my birthday? Way too many f#cking calories! On Saturday, I drank way too much and ate even more. And it was perfect. I had a super fabulous time and got some wild and crazy presents! No offense, but one gift stood out as, well, being the friggin' most hilarious and awesome present ever. Behold, the douche card:

I can't wait to give the first card away...


Hello, Lover
Speaking of friends, tonight I finally saw Sex & the City: The Movie. Trying to not be totally gay (literally, not figuratively), halfway through the movie all I wanted to do was lean over and hug Mrs. J. It's a super chick-power movie and forces you to reflect on all the relationships in your life. My friends, for example, f#ckin' rock. I know I've said it time and again, but I haven't had the best luck with friends in the past.

"Like what?" you say? Well, I'm glad you asked. Not to toot my own horn (toot toot), but I think (or, maybe, more accurately: I try) to be a good friend. Like a get-a-phone-call-at-the-crack-of-dawn-from-a-friend-in-need-so-I-pack-up-the-baby-and-drive-20-minutes-to-empty-(literally)-my-wallet-for-you-kind-of friend. But in the past, that kind of act is typically rewarded with never hearing from the person again and being about $50 poorer.

But my own Miranda (meow), Samantha (hmmm...who could this be?), Charlotte (is it a coincidence that her baby is Asian? I think not...) & Carrie (ours will have a Dr. and a PhD next to her name, but who's comparing)...well, I couldn't ask for more!


The Fantastic Four Five
But if we have a Miranda, a Samantha, a Charlotte, and a Carrie, well, then who am I?

* I thrive on Miranda's skepticism and her fight to keep her marriage, her child and her career in balance.

* My vocabulary gives away my Samantha-esque trait. I say f#ck (and generally inappropriate things) way too often!

* Like Charlotte, I think a part of me is naive and just a little prudish. But thanks to our group's Samantha...that will be short-lived!

* And Carrie. I think most people identify with main characters but me, not so much. I have no eye for fashion (I'm far too self-conscious to ever wear anything too fashionable) and I've never dated very much (let alone have enough relationships to write columns about). However, I do spend a lot of time talking to myself in front of my laptop, so I'll give myself a smidge of Carrie to round things out.

Honestly, I think I'm a wacky hybrid of each of them in some way (maybe some, more than others). But really, aren't we all?


Spoiler Alert
If you haven't seen the movie, you may want to skip over this section (but I'm not going to reveal any specifics).

There are so many topics in the SATC Movie that touch home for me. The most powerful one is the emotional drain a relationship (or more accurately, the end of a relationship) can have on you.

Hasn't everyone had that soul-crushing, gut-wrenching, completely debilitating break up that left you in a Mexicoma? I know I have. As I said above, I haven't had many relationships in my life. Guys just don't ask me out. I've never "dated". I've only been in relationships. Most ended badly.

My first serious boyfriend - He Who Shall Not Be Named - ended the relationship with the tried-and-true and very grown up method of "Treat Her Like Shit Until She Breaks Up With You So You It Makes It Easier On You". As much as he did (and probably does still) deserve above said cards I received for my birthday, taking control and ending the relationship actually was very empowering for me. It taught me the lesson that I'm too important (and just too awesome) to let anyone, especially a man, treat me or make me feel like shit. It was a difficult and painful lesson to learn, but it had to happen.

My next/rebound boyfriend, well, he was the one who crushed me. It was one of those "I'm Not Happy But She Thinks Things Are Going Fine So I'll Just Blindside Her" breakups. This was my Mexicoma. My "I don't want to get out of bed; just leave me alone" heartbreak. And all during my first week of law school. Thanks, asshole. That made it *much* more fun.

What is it about those relationships that made it so impossible to just pick up and move on? And how come you never seen man all mopey and soul-crushed?


Happily Ever After
Luckily, during that last breakup, I had a fabulous friend named Mr. Bee who actually hung out with me and my (then) friends. Ironically, I met Mr. Bee through Jackass #1 and probably wouldn't have started dating him if it weren't for Jackass #2's breakup.

SATC also poses questions to us married folk. Like, if your significant other cheated on you, could you forgive them?

Now, forgiveness is not my strong suit. I hold grudges. Like epic, Guinness Book of World Records, grudges. But when I really think about my love for Mr. Bee, like Miranda/Steve or Carrie/Mr. Big, I think it will really last. Through ups and downs, sickness and health. Hell, we've already had those issues beat the shit out of us with a Louisville Slugger. Bring it, I say, BRING IT!

However, this brings me to another thought (okay, it's really Charlotte's thought). Can you be comfortable being happy or will you constantly be paranoid that it will all come crashing down on you?

Sure, I've had bad days - who hasn't? But overall, I have a lovely and close family (immediate and extended/in-laws), a wonderful, devoted & ambitious husband, the cutest daughter who has ever lived, beautiful and fabulous friends, and a happy/content life here in the suburbs. What did I do to deserve this? Will someone eventually realize that all this awesomeness was really meant for someone else, someone deserving? Is it all a cover for something darker and foreboding that looms in my future? Is Mr. Bee really a lizard-man wearing an Edgar Suit? Will my daughter army-crawl in to her Twenties? I suppose only time will tell...


That's All Folks
So there you have it. My mental diarrhea put to paper (or screen, as it were). It all made so much more sense in my head...


Song Title: Manic Monday by The Bangles

Happy Birthday Blues

**Warning: What follows is a selfish diatribe on the suckiest birthday ever except for maybe Asian Brain Twin's gay boyfriend dumping her. She definitely wins that contest!**

{{sigh}}

Here begins the long ass story of how we lost our Hills house...

Once upon a time, in the Dirty Dirty South, we found a house unlike any other. Well, okay, there may be approximately 8 trillion other homes on the same street that look exactly like it, but we liked this one, okay? Geesh, get off my back already.

Any who, we found this house and after attempting to put an offer down, we found out that they wouldn't accept contingent offers. So we immediately put our house on the market (after two weeks of excruciatingly exhausting work packing up all our really cluttered crap and staging all the remaining crap in a fashionable way) and low-and-behold! We actually get an offer on our house after it's only been on the market 10 days! TEN DAYS! In *this* market?! Crazy talk, I tell ya.

We are just thrilled. We plan on making an offer on our Hills house as soon as the inspection on our house is completed. But wait! Someone is already putting in an offer on "our" home in the Hills?! How dare they?! (In fact, I believe my actual reaction was, "Oh, fuck.") So we scramble with our buying agent and get an offer on the table...

Saturday: Find out someone is trying to buy the Hills house

Sunday: Tour the Hills house and neighboring houses for sale. We determine that we do love the house and want to buy it tout de suite (thank you for the French lesson, Sex in the City).

Monday: Sign paperwork for offer on Hills House

Tuesday: Submit offer. We're told if we make it non-contingent on the sale of our house, then the house is ours. We do make the changes! We have a house!

Tuesday Evening: Oh, wait. They want to allow the other people to up their offer if they want the house. How about you come back with your highest and best offer Wednesday morning?

Wednesday Morning: We say, "Pound sand, assholes. That *was* our best offer." We think we've lost the house.

Wednesday Midday: Guess what?! The other people said "Pound Sand!" too! We're still in this!!

Wednesday Afternoon: Oh wait. Ha ha! Remember when we said you were still in this? Yeah... not so much. They gave it to the other people. Even though we offered $$ over any offer of theirs. They just gave it to the other folks anyhow.

So in approximately four weeks, we'll officially be homeless.

Suckiest. Birthday. Ever.

OMG, did I mention that my email was down all day too? Jesus Christ, Kharma's not fucking around today. I must have been Ghengis Khan or Hitler last time around or something...


A Little Help From My Friends
Besides my family, the redeeming part of today was ending it with my closest friends drinking Cosmos and watching the final season of Sex and The City. It was a nice send off for our F-Dub house and it was really weird thinking that tonight will be the last night that all the Lovely Lady Friends hang out here.

And OMG, how much do I love the Lovely Lady Friends? Anywhere I can comfortably say "Fuck," "Jesus Christ," and "vag" without anyone blinking a beautiful eyelash is heaven to me! It's so amazing finally (finally) having a set of wonderful female friends that are soooo honest, and so FUN, and so dependable! Fingers crossed that I'll never need it, but I know these ladies would be at my side in a heartbeat if I needed them for anything!

And don't even get me started on how much they love Baby Bee! It was just about the cutest thing in the world to see Bee snuggle up with her Auntie Mrs. J! And Mr. J's ovaries would have just about popped if he would've seen it (um, PS: Mr. J, can you knock up your wife already?! I don't want to pull out the "shooting blanks" jokes, but I'll do it. You know me. I'll do it.)

Anyway, that's a little (novel) on how I spent my 29th birthday. Only one more year in my 20's...But 30 is the new 20, right? RIGHT?! Oh dear God, I need another Cosmo...


Song Titles: Happy Birthday Blues by B.B. King; A Little Help From My Friends by Joe Cocker

Perfect Fit

One characteristic that Mr. Bee and I share is our complete lack of patience, especially if it has to do with gift giving. It's very likely that I will get shaken awake at midnight on Christmas Eve/Christmas morning to open presents (since it's technically Christmas). Whenever we give each other birthday presents, I think we both attempt to wait until the other person's birthday, but our excitement at giving gifts always get the best of us and we always force the person to open the present early. Okay, maybe force is a little strong. Neither of us ever need much convincing before we rip in to that sparkly wrapping paper!

With my birthday only a few days away, Mr. Bee couldn't contain himself and gave me the opportunity to open my present early! Even more impressive is the thought and effort he went in to getting it for me (apparently he went out at the crack of dawn this morning to The Store That Shall Not Be Named and scored my gift straight off of the inventory cart (it hadn't even gotten to the shelf yet before he started harassing workers for it!).

My hubbie is AWESOME! I wanted one of these so badly! Now my weight check-ins might actually have something other than "None" in the "Exercise" category!

Ask Me

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? I think some random chick from a soap opera.
2. LAST TIME YOU CRIED? Probably while watching Juno for the first time the other evening...babies/movies/movies about babies never fail to make me cry!
3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? Handwriting? Who writes anything by hand?! I *love* the way I type, though...
4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT? Haha, you said "meat."
5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS? Do you read this blog?
6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON... I'd be my own evil twin. Or maybe I already am?... Muuuhahahahaha.
8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? Why would anyone care?
9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? Not voluntarily.
10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? Apple Jacks are crazy delicious
11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? I simply undo the Velcro...
12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? Does The Hulk mean anything to you?
13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM? Yes.
14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? Attractiveness (just keepin' it real)
15. RED OR PINK? Depends...on whether this is the dumbest question ever...
16. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? Currently, my physical fitness/tone
17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST? my super awesome Aunt Rainy. She could kick your aunt's @ss.
18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO SEND THIS BACK TO YOU? If I was emailing it, yes. I'd love for people to comment!
19. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? None! Bow chica wow wow!
20. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE? English muffin
21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? The voices. I always hear the voices.
22. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? Pacific Blue
23. FAVORITE SMELLS? Laundry in the dryer.
24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? Probably my mom.
25. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU? I got it from about a billion people, but yes.
26. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH? Football!
27. HAIR COLOR? Currently: Light brown. By this weekend: Blond (we do have more fun!)
28. EYE COLOR? Glazed over from lack of sleep and whiny toddler.
29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? If I didn't, I'd need a service dog.
30. FAVORITE FOODS? Bread, Cheese, And/or Bread & Cheese
31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? Yes.
32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? Juno.
33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING? None. Bow chica wow wow (Okay, I'm still wearing my pretty new nightgown from Mr. Bee for Mother's Day)
34. SUMMER OR WINTER? If I'm prego: Winter. If I have air conditioning: Summer.
35. HUGS OR KISSES? Chocolate or the real thing? Who I am kidding...both.
36. FAVORITE DESSERT? My mom's German Chocolate Cake (and I accept no imitations).
37. MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND? No one. My followers are quiet and stalker-like.
38. LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND? See #37.
39. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW? LOL! This obviously wasn't written by a mom.
40. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? None. On a laptop.
41. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT? Half of the American Idol finale.
42. FAVORITE SOUND? Baby Bee talking/babbling to herself and the sound of email popping up on my laptop.
43. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? So not a real question. BEATLES!
44. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME? Ephesus, Turkey
45. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT? Drawing/Painting - I kinda kick @ss.
46. WHERE WERE YOU BORN? California
47. FAVORITE JOB? Mom
48. LEAST FAVORITE JOB: Crack dealing hooker, uh, I mean, gosh this is awkward...
49. FAVORITE MOVIES OF ALL TIME: Clerks, 50 First Dates, Signs (but really any M. Knight movie)
50. FAVORITE ACTOR/ACTRESS: Hmmm...I remember seeing a movie commercial recently and thinking "Man, I love Alan Arkin!"

Legally Blonde

This Saturday I will officially be blonde again! I didn't realize how much I identify myself as a blonde until I went dark this winter. I'm soooo happy to make the jump back and go from this:

to THIS (or something close)

Watch Out

This is my new advisory that I'm thinking of having family and friends sign before commencing in eating a meal with me:

***SAFETY ADVISORY***
Please be aware that this meal is NOT Weight Watchers or Jenny Craig approved. I fully plan on eating my weight in food. Let it be known that I will not hesitate to poke you in the eye with my fork/spoon/knife/spork/finger if you attempt at any time to remove cheese or bread from my personal space.

Bitch

Lately I've realized that I've become very negative. Don't get me wrong; I know that my inner being is snarky and skeptical. At heart, I'm just not a rosy, sugary optimist that never says anything bad about people. Dur.

*****

Sugary nice person: What a beautiful rainbow! I wonder if there is gold at the end!

Me: Yeah. If there is gold, it's probably owned by some douchy leprechaun that totally doesn't deserve it. He probably only has the gold because he exploited the people he works with into working 70-hour weeks while he goes out golfing or something. Stupid friggin' leprechaun. Oh yeah, pretty rainbow.

*****

But I digress. I hope my friends and family don't think that I'm just a total judgmental bitch. I mean, I am judgmental, but I try to be in just a funny, entertaining way. (key word = try)


Beautiful People
This all leads me to a deeper topic that most people probably don't know about me. I'll try my best to make this post not too Lifetime for Women.

I realized while in Vegas a few weeks past that my happiness or enjoyment of a situation is directly related to how cute and/or attractive I feel. Especially when surrounded by attractive people. For example, I spent an entire day without makeup and without showering. Now, at home, I could care less. And typically, I'm not one of those women that absolutely has to have her makeup on to leave the house to go to the store (but I usually will put makeup on before leaving).

This particular day was full of activities that would make us sweaty and gross, so the group decide to forgo showers until later in the evening when we'd glam up for a night on the town. I don't know about the other ladies, but I felt soooo gross and unattractive that whole day. And to make matters worse, we then participated in a Stripper 101 class (oh yeah, that deserves a post dedicated solely to stripping). In the class, it goes without saying that self-confidence is required. That day I had negative 110% of self-confidence. The amount of enjoyment I should have gotten out of the experience was smothered by my overwhelming disgustingness for myself. (okay, that's a little severe, but I did think I looked like a hot tranny mess)

Even looking at the photos of the weekend, I absolutely believe myself to be the fattest and least attractive woman there. Where does that come from? I always write things off (such as NO guys even attempting to hit on me at a bar/club) as my self confidence that I put out and/or the definite "I'm not interested" vibe that I think I put out in that kind of situation. I could even go the post-pregnancy route of "I just feel this bad about myself because my body has changed significantly since Baby Bee blew out my vag." This definitely didn't help the situation (and hanging out with 8 hawt pre-pregnancy women with flat stomachs made me just about want to shoot myself in the head). Could my excuses just be a huge defense mechanism like my witty judgment of people and situations? (oh yeah, baby, brought this post full circle! You know you thought it'd never happen...)

Anyhoo, I'm not looking for pity comments like "oooh! You're so pretty" because, honestly, I don't even know if I'd believe it. Yeah, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't believe it at all.

I don't really know what the point of this post was except to just give you a glimpse in to the sparkly, golden innards of Mama Bee.

Oh yeah, I said innards. You know you're jealous.

A Song For You

At last weekend's bachelorette party, the bride-to-be made compilation CDs that were inspired by us attendees. Last night I was telling Mr. Bee all about it and we started brainstorming what songs we would choose for ourselves. Mr. Bee's suggestion for me was:

Everything About You by Ugly Kid Joe


I just about died laughing! Maybe it's a sign that I should stop my complaining (or at least take temporary breaks from it!).....Eh, who are we kidding?



Home, Sweet, Anyone Want to Buy My Home?

Today is the big day! Mr. Bee is dropping by shortly (because we forgot to do the one important thing that we were supposed to do yesterday - sign the MLS listing paperwork for our agent!) and then he's heading up to Redfin to drop off the paperwork and pick up the Open House signs for tomorrow.



Needless to say, if you know anyone looking for a home, send them our way!! It's so exciting to finally get to Open House day (and somewhat relaxing since we're almost finally done with our ridiculously long to-do checklist).

Work All Day

Dear God, I have been working my butt off today. Up until midnight last night and then up at 6am to wash dishes and yard work, among many other things.

I'm beyond friggin' exhausted after a weekend with way too little sleep.

But good news: photoshoot with the Redfin photographer went well, landscapers have started their work, house is clean, and hopefully we are well on our way to a Friday listing and a Saturday open house! Wish us luck!