Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you were blessed with joy, happiness, and gifts. I also hope that those gifts were certified by your local Chinese buffet.
Category Archives: Huh?
He will never learn and I’ll never be surprised
Tate is completely incapable of keeping my Christmas gifts a secret.
Oh wait, I already wrote this post LAST YEAR.
This year, though, Tate has taken his lack of secret keeping to new levels.
When I like something, particularly when we’re getting close to Christmas, I make sure to drop obvious hints to my husband to help guide him in his gift purchasing endeavors. I do this because I’m an awesome wife and also to make sure he doesn’t buy me a vacuum or a crock pot for Christmas. So my “hinting” this year has centered around my adoration of Etsy and showing him w-w-w dot etsy dot com and showing him my wishlist on Amazon.com.
Tate tries to be sweet, he truly does. He bought me a gift from Etsy. And he bought me several gifts from my wishlist on Amazon. Sweet, right?
Here’s where he went wrong, though. He used MY Etsy account and MY Paypal account to buy the gift on Etsy. And he used MY Amazon.com account to buy my gifts from Amazon. All these things are linked to MY email address.
I suppose that I should look at this like instead of unwrapping my presents Christmas morning and being surprised, I was suprised when I opened my email and got a sneak peak at my gifts.
I think we’re getting to the point where the readers of this blog are going to say, “She must be making up stories just for blog material.”
But I’m not making this up, though I so very much wish I was.
So I’ve had a bad year, and in particular an especially bad week.
I mentioned the other day that the movers broke my dryer and currently I’m at the bottom of a nearly two weeks worth of dirty laundry. Since I cannot wait for Cartus, my arch nemesis, to either fix or replace my dryer, Tate and I went out Thursday evening to buy a new dryer.
Surely, SURELY! my luck was changing, I just KNEW it was, when the saleperson told me they could deliver the dryer the very next day! Oh happy day! I was going to enjoy the bliss that can only be found when the laundry baskets are empty!
The very next day, right on schedule, the angels descended upon my home and delivered a brand new dryer.
After the angels left, I washed my first load of laundry and then placed it in the dryer. I turned on the dryer and smiled happily to myself, anticipating one load of laundry down, only 35 more to go.
That’s when the unthinkable happened.
After about five seconds of drying, the dryer abruptly stopped (and I thought I heard an evil cackle, but I’m not sure, maybe it was just my personality splitting into a million pieces in an attempt to save my psyche.)
Confused, I turned the dryer back on, thinking that it must have been some sort of “first time drying, HA! HA!” fluke.
After about five seconds of drying, it abruptly stopped again.
And continued to stop the 763 times I tried starting it again, because I knew that it was going to start and STAY ON the next time *maniacal laughter*.
I immediately called the store where we purchased the dryer and was promptly redirected to GE to discuss repair. Repair of a BRAND NEW DRYER.
I began crying on the phone to the lady at GE. I could hardly answer her questions through my crying.
Unfortunately she was unable to diagnose the problem over the phone, so I called the store back where we purchased the dryer to see if they could PLEASE HELP ME.
When they said they’d send out a repair person next week, I started crying again. And cussing.
So they agreed to deliver a new dryer today.
Which they did.
And guess what? No seriously…guess..
It didn’t work either.
Apparently we have wiring issues with our house. Our BRAND NEW HOUSE.
And that’s when my personality finally split into a million pieces.
–Written by Miss Trixie LaRue, edited by Hazel.
Peak
First it started with finding out we were moving.
Then it was the stress of living in floral infestation, living a great distance from YOUNG civilization.
Then is was almost selling our house, but finding out that our “buyers” were really con artists.
After that it was Cartus, our relocation company, that has been a thorn in my side for years, but WORSE, a thorn in my side TWO TIMES in one year.
Next my Internet connection sometimes worked and sometimes didn’t, and of course my connection fell under the “sometimes didn’t” category when I most needed it.
Oh and then? I decided that going back to work and trying to find childcare and buying a whole new wardrobe for work would be a GREAT. IDEA.
Then it was the stress of moving in. And even though it’s a GOOD thing and it’s GOOD stress, I have a hard time with STRESS.
Next I called and visited several daycares and none of them were suitable, some being too expensive, others not accepting children part time, and others just not giving me that warm, fuzzy feeling I was desperate to find for my children.
Then it was the first night alone in our house, mostly unpacked, looking forward to enjoying a glass of wine in front of our Christmas tree and our fireplace when Tate discovered that the sewer was backing up in our basement. There was SHIT WATER in my basement. (Pardon my use of the word “shit,” I’ve tried cutting back on my cursing, but when there is poo on the floor of your brand new home, it’s not in fact “POO,” it is SHIT.)
My fireplace? Wasn’t hooked up to electricity, so it wouldn’t light. Apparently the inspector missed this. Not sure how you miss FIRE vs. NO FIRE.
Then it was the dryer that our movers broke and nobody wants to accept responsibility for fixing and I don’t care WHOSE responsibility it is, I just NEED my dryer to work. I need it to work, like, LAST WEEK.
I forgot to mention that the children and I became deathly ill in the midst of all of this, and while we’re feeling better, some of us (I’m looking at you, Carson and Ella) haven’t stopped whining for four days.
It took the cable man 4 1/2 hours to install our cable. He left at 8:30 PM, an hour past my eternally whining children’s bedtime.
How could I forget this one? The movers also somehow warped my brand new kitchen table. And of course, nobody wants to claim responsibility.
I have bought 2 Christmas presents.
To combat this stress, I’ve decided that I’m not going back to work, at least not right away. I’ve been trying to go to bed early and get extra rest. I’ve watched back to back episodes of Top Chef and Real Housewives of the O.C. AND Atlanta. Now if someone would just like to drop by with a few cases of wine, I’ll be good as gold.
Edited to add just minutes after hitting publish: La-Z-Boy just tried to deliver the wrong sofa. A very, very ugly and tacky sofa, for what it’s worth.
Well, that’s done
I have been sick all day, the kind of sick that I’d rather not gross you all out with. I have a theory that finishing THAT book made me physically ill, as my symptoms appeared but a mere two hours after finishing it.
I jest, I jest, I don’t really think it was THAT book that made me sick, but in I did finish Twilight yesterday and I guess what I have to say about it is this:
“Well, that’s done.”
I suppose that I can see how some people enjoy the storyline and think that Edward is the cat’s meow. The story (and Edward) really had so much potential and therein lies my disappointment with the book.
The hype about this book (and the whole series) has just been so over the top that I really expected it to all ring true and to ADORE this book as much as so many of you. But the writing? It was so juvenile, and YES, I realize it was initially a book written for teens, but so was Harry Potter and that writing WAS NOT juvenile.
And since this book is a teen book, it was missing a huge, necessary-to-the-storyline, MAJOR detail.
Edward and Bella should have done the horizontal mambo. I NEEDED them to get it on. I kept waiting for it and hoping for it. If I were a 17 year old boy, I’d tell you that I finished that book with a raging case of blue balls.
I’ve struggled all day with what grade I’d give this book and think I’ve decided that I give it a “C-.”
If anyone would like to read it, I’d be happy to send it to you to read with the promise that you WON’T blame me for the sucky plot, lame dialogue, and lack of sex.
Just leave a comment that you’d like to me to send you the book and I’ll choose one questionably lucky winner sometime this week. (I’ll be really busy moving into my BRAND NEW HOUSE so I don’t know exactly when I’ll be able to choose a winner.)
I’m currently drinking the bloody kool-aid
While you all have been diving headfirst into leftover turkey and dressing, I’ve been reading this:
All you Twilight fanatics have a lot of explaining to do because I’m on page 390 and I’m just NOT feeling it. I’ll keep reading, though because I’m tired of being the sole being on the planet who hasn’t read this book. I WANT to love this book, I DO! Maybe I need to read the whole series to really “get” it?
To be continued…
The Wicked Be-yotch of Aveda
I adored my Aveda salon and hair stylist back in Indiana. One of the hardest parts about moving is finding that special someone who doesn’t talk too much while cutting and coloring my hair, has readily available Saturday appointments, and doesn’t charge one MEELION dollars for the service.
I had a hair appointment this past Saturday at one of the local Aveda salons with a stylist I’ll call Felecia (because that’s her name.)
Let’s start with the positives about Felecia.
1. She knew that I part my hair to the right without having to ask me.
Now let’s move on to the negatives about Felecia.
1. When I first sat down in her chair to discuss what I needed done, she asked me if I was there to get the gray covered up. THE GRAY COVERED UP. (For the record, I have no gray hair.)
2. She sneered and crinkled her nose and was exasperated by my answers to all of my questions about my hair.
“Well I just DON’T understand why they did this to your hair?? ”
“How long ago did they do this to your hair??” (Heavy on the “THEY.”)
“I’m just trying to give you all of your options.”
“You’ll probably want to just go with a root touch-up, you probably want to save money.” (She wasn’t giving me the money saving option out of the goodness of her heart, she thought I looked like I couldn’t afford to be in the salon.)
3. She didn’t talk to me at all other than to ridicule my hair. Sure I don’t want a stylist that never stops jabbering, but not to talk to me at all?? Instead she was badmouthing one of her coworkers to her assistant.
4. While she was cutting my hair, she kept saying, “Oh my. The back of your hair is so messed up and jagged. I just DON’T UNDERSTAND what THEY did to you.”
5. When she was done, she said, “It looks pretty good. Well as good as it could look with what I had to work with. At least the color looks good.”
Yeah. I know!
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Congratulations to kj @ Where my boys at, winner of the Tom Bihn Laptop Messenger Bag and to Heather~Domestic Extraordinaire, winner of the Holiday/Mommy Cards from Fruition designs!!
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This here is my blog where I talk about my feeeeelings. I'm Mom to Carson, 6, and Ella, 5. I'm Jennifer and wife to Tate. I like to run and eat nachos. Not at the same time, though. Duh.
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