Monday, August 21, 2006

Response to the horror that was last night's blog, written by: The Conscious Micaela

OK I am laughing so hard I can hardly write this! I just read over what I wrote last night, and it makes absolutely, positively, not one lick of sense! I must have missed a word at least every other sentence, not to mention just throwing the wrong one altogether in occasionally. So sorry. I am officially cut off from Ambien blogging. It is socially irresponsible. No one should be subjected to such nonsensical blather. (By the way - when I said "mean", I meant "move". Dont' ask; I don't know).

Today I continued my epic quest for the perfect bathmat, only to fail again. Now it is not too small for the space, but too big! The trauma! The travesty! However, this didn't seem to be a problem for Idgie who promptly peed on it. I wonder if that was her welcome to the house love token. I'm just glad she hasn't decided to welcome my closet to her realm. Anyway, as my mom pointed out today, it seems a trifle strange that now, instead of heading up the quest for The Ultimate Purse (which, I might add, my mother is the chief master/neurotic head hunter of - more on this to come in a later blog. My mom's black purse obsession is the stuff of great novels), I am now hunting with extreme fervor and dedication for towels and just the right toilet brush holder. This somehow seems wrong, not unlike Lisa Marie Presley and Michael Jackson's wedding of yesteryear - it just doesn't jive with our known sense of what is normal. I am an admitted and committed Coach purse whore, so the fact that I am now thrilled by a cute toothbrush holder on sale at TJ Maxx is a very foreign and slightly unnerving sensation. It is also now a bit embarrasing that anytime someone calls me, I am at one of three places: TJ Maxx, Target (a given), or Bed Bath & Beyond. I won't even tell you how many times I have been to each in the last 8 days.

OK I have to stop now because the chocolate cake in the fridge is calling to me with soothing tones..."Micaaaaaaaela...you are soooo hungry, and I am soooo soft and spongy and chocolately, you must eat me...all of me...RIGGGGGGHT NOOOOOOW!".

Aaaah!! I give!

Sunday, August 20, 2006

My girl wants to party all the time party all the time party all the tiiiiime.

oiy! This is going to be a bleary one, which means extra fun for the readers! I swear I couldn't see a noodle if it was sitting on my nose.

So, the news with me and mine of course if that I have a completely altered lifestyle (no, I am not gay). I just have a new house, baby, still no job, etc. However, I am feeling much more hopeful on the point about the job. I will let you know how that all pans out. I had a strange thing said to me related to working...someone asked me if I've found anyone to babysit when I go back to work, and I said no, and she told me in strictest confidence not to ask ANYONE with clearing it with her first, and for the love of all things holy, do NOT make a general announcement becase you will have all kinds of weirdos responding who frankly cannot take care of their own kids! Eeee gads. I also heard today that some poor little one year old boy got hand foot and mouth disease from some kids in the ward he was playing with. Could land! Where have I moved into? Is this going to slowly turn into a scene from Deliverance - Mormon style (whatever that would entail)?


By the way, you have the pleasure of hearing from me today, because we hijacking our next door neighbors wireless because ours still has to be fished out of the pooper (things not going so smoothly with the comcast setup - I swear I've never seen the veins in Ammon's head get so large). Which brings up another question. Don't you all just sort of assume that when you mean, some things, and maybe many will go horribly wrong? Like someone all of your stuff falling out of the back of the truck onto I-80 because some idiot didn't strap it down right, or noticing that your dog is now mysteriously missing a leg. OK that is obviously worst case, but I think it behooves one and all to... *cliche of the day!!* ...:"expect the unexpected". Then maybe we wouldn't have so many ulcers. So what if the cable mans pants have fallen so much farther down his backside that Levi's ever intended. He'll get it done! So what if talks incessantly and gets nothing done and you may never have cable again.. Bllllaaaaaa!!! This is how Ammon is feeling. I really am getting concerned that is developing freaky digestional problems due to unrealistic expectations that we would move in, pull a big knob, and everyone would magically be set up, put away, ready to go, and all in it's rightful place. Anyone have a suggestion? I'm thinking of slipping him some valium. Would that be morally wrong?

Saturday, August 12, 2006

...you other brothers can't deny. When a girls walks in with an itty bitty waist and a round thing in your face you get sprung...

So, I am officially... a loon. Or maybe a dodo bird. Either way - picture a large, mostly flightless waterfowl, who tends to crash headfirst when it has lifted off the ground, and who tends to run into things on dry land, and you have me. With hair. And contacts. I say this because tomorrow, I am moving to another state where I know officially one person, have no job, have a house I haven't the foggiest idea how we will pay for, and a teeny weeny little girl who is used to being held all the time by her 1100 aunts/uncles/cousins/grandparents, etc. and who will now have to get used to being held primarily by her bouncy seat when mommy gets tired. Eee gads. Is this faith or insanity? There is a verrrrry fine line between the two, and one must be exceptionally careful when trying to tell the difference. In my case, I think there is a good chance I have crossed into the netherworld of insanity. I'll update you in a few weeks and let you know if that was the case.

Random Story #1 - I don't know if it's the stress or what, but I had an extremely wild and unruly hair this week and died my hair the MOST horrific and unearthly shade of orange you have ever seen. You know how some colors wash you out? This one actually made my face disappear completely. The ironic thing is that my husband actually liked it - he said it looked retro. This proves one of two things, or maybe both: 1) he is color blind, or just completely blind, or 2) he has as much taste as a giraffe. Also ironically, most of our male friends that saw this horror agreed with him. Perhaps all men as a gender are color blind? Except the gay ones. I'm pretty sure my friend Omar at work would have told me (and rightly so) that I looked hideous and to go get it fixed post haste. Which I did by the way. My hair color is now one that can actually be found in nature's wide palette of haircolors.

Sidenote: OK this woman on What Not To Wear has the biggest boobs I have ever seen. Why do such a large percentage of women with larger than F size boobs tend to wear the smallest tops they can find? What is this? Do they think that if they put on a size small their XXL boobs will magically shrink? I'm interested to see how Stacy and Clinton cover those bad boys up. I think they're going to need a tarp. Do they make tarps in cashmere?

Pardon my madness - I just realized that this is an extremely random blogging today, but nothing can be done. I have been so spastically stressed out and crazy that it's a miracle if I complete a full teeth brushing without thinking of something else I need to do and running off to take care of that instead (with toothpaste foam still dripping out of my mouth). Speaking though of crazy things people do when they are stressed - I have another fun Ambien story, Good land I love this stuff. Please don't think I am a naughty drug addict - just another person who really enjoys the medication legally and ethically prescribed by her doctor.
Anyway - Random Story #2. I heard this story about a woman who was gaining an absurd amount of weight for no good reason until she discovered that in the middle of the night, she had been horking down giant 24 packs of hot dog buns like a ravenous wolf, and then going straight back to bed and not remembering a single thing in the morning. True story. One night last week, I noticed that there was a bag of Skittles lying on our table that had been there for several days. I remember thinking to myself that I either needed to put them away or throw them out so I wouldn't be tempted to eat them, which was pointless because I only like the red and purple ones anyway (yes I am a Skittles discriminator). I got up the next day and proceeded to give my husband a very bad time for being a pig, because the Skittles had been carefully opened, mostly eaten, and then laid carefully back down. I was very confused and incredulous about his denial until I poured the remaining Skittles out to discover...you guessed it...there were only orange, yellow, and green left. Apparently I quite painstakingly opened the package and selected out my favorite colors without having any conscious awareness whatsoever about what I was doing. This actually scared my husband - he thinks I am now going to become the crazy night fox who attacks all carbohydrates after 1am with a vengeance, but remains blissfully unaware the next day.
I suppose he may have a point, and there have been a few other MINOR incidents to make him think this may not be the best route to take for my insomnia. Good example: the other day, I actually ordered something off of TV and from an infomercial. The Super Slim Shaper to be exact. I have a vague recollection of thinking that maybe I shouldn't buy it since I was feeling a little tipsy, but that went away quick and out came the credit card. Apparently I have also started shouting crazy things in the night and flailing about uncontrollably. According to my husband, it was "Addy fell out of the bed!!!!!!!! I can't find her - she is not in the bed, she fell OUT AND YOU HAVE TO HELP ME FIND HER!!!!!!!!w@#$@$##@%%$%$#% ". Snoooooooore. I of course have to memory of this one either. Oh and my kind friends will tell you that I have also started Ambien emailing, which is akin to drunk dialing, where I send out an email some random friend sounding like a total whackjob. I have started cringing everytime I open my Sent folder.

With all the above info, I would like to pose a vote.

Vote A if you think I should stop the madness and go cold turkey on the Ambien

Vote B if you think these stories are pretty funny and you want to see what bizarre thing I will do next. And you like me well rested (my Vote would be B).


I'll keep a tally:
A = 0
B = 1

Alright, time to go drunk dial; I mean Ambien email.