Tonight we're gonna party like it's 1999.

Good Morning and Happy New Year! Prince (or Prince the artist who was formerly known as the artist formerly known as Prince) and I are happy to report that we have successfully entered a New Year, that I have a kleenex hanging out of my nose right now, and that I did NOT take an Ambien last night. Hurrah! Demons be gone!

It took me a couple hours to get to sleep, but once I finally did, I slept like a little Cherub. I did, however, have a wicked crazy dream that I was in love with my cousin, who was not actually my cousin but a combination of Paul Walker and an Elder I knew in the MTC, and that my dad went totally nuts because of the alien invasion and started chasing everyone around with a creme brulee torch. I am not making this up. Well, now we know that it was not the Ambien giving me the acid trip dreams. It is just my psyche, which I find even more alarming.

Ooooh Rolo's! I just found a stash of Christmas candy at my desk and I think I will have many Rolo's for breakfast.

On to the business at hand. I am a little late, as it is now Jan 6, but I think I am still within thelegitimate window of resolution making. I've thought long and hard for a good 12 minutes about this, and here is what I have come up with:

New Year's Resolutions:

1) Get off the crack (ambien)

2) Refrain from buying any more Coach purses - 27 is plenty (see picture of new perfect bag below)

3) Try and use your new treadmill at least twice in the new year

4) Do not get pregnant. Do not even consider getting pregnant. Do not let Ammon sleep in the same room.

5) Marry the cleaning lady (see explanation below)

6) Find a cure for ear wax (the most repellant substance in nature)

And I'm spent. That is plenty to do for one year.

Picture of new most perfect bag (by request). *Please note - this picture was pulled off eBay and does not do justice to the glory and wonder that is my new purse. OK, perhaps I am exaggerating a smidge since it is NOT able to julienne zuchini in addition to carrying all my junk. However, it does match everything which is almost as good.

Explanation to #5: I found the most blessed cleaning creature in existence a few weeks ago. I have never seen any establishment as clean as my house was. She didn't just do toilet paper points, she did toilet paper FLOWERS or was it a cactus? I'm not sure; I didn't even know such a possibility existed! Anyway, she is fabulous and SO CHEAP but after sitting down and doing our budget, we thought when faced with a choice between buying groceries and employing a cleaning lady, it was a struggle, but we went with the former. Solution = marry her, and then she can clean my house all the time! Although perhaps I should have Ammon marry her instead. I think she might be an illegal alien, so this would be a bonus for her too! Really, I wouldn't be exploiting her at all!

Addy update: she discovered a new noise this last week - lip smacking. It is very cute. She is trying so hard to crawl! Here are a few recent pics...

I've also included pictures of the dogs who are very embarassed of the outfits mom made them put on, and the ridiculous amount of snow we've had in the last few weeks. It was all great fun until I blithely and naively backed out of my driveway without looking at the 3 foot drift in my way and high centered myself.




HAPPY NEW YEAR! And to all a good night.

i been caught stealing once when i was five i enjoy stealing it's a simple as that

It is Tuesday, Confessional Day, which has is a recent addition to Tuesday - Diarrhea Day, which is still in full force in our house. I think my immune system is getting back at me for buying yet another bag. Oh nuts - I owe you all a picture of said bag. However, said bag and camera are downstairs and considering that I some digestive issues and the lung capacity of a small squirrel, I am not moving. It will have to wait.

So... on to Tuesday Confession day. The other day, I watched the movie Eight Below with Paul Walker in it. It truly is a great and heartwarming story - I cried all the way through it. It would seem, however, that my subconscious, or my "ID" if you will for those Dr. Freud lovers out there was not so interested in the fluffy dogs and their sweet courageness. It was MUCH more interested in Paul Walkers' apparently perfect bone structure and fabulous abs, because I dreampt about them ALL NIGHT!
The main premise of my dream - and I'm only sharing this because I find it totally amusing - was that Paul and I somehow ended up as roommates in college (too cute!), and I of course immediately had a huge crush on him. But my sad little co-ed self esteem was sure he would never even look at me because he is SO HOT! But, one fateful day in the cafeteria, my sweet roomie Paul stuck up for me when the lunch lady said I had missed the deadline for pie (I was very distraught), and he used his suave and charm and got me my pie! True love!!! Later that day as we were both brushing our teeth in our tiny bathroom, we locked eyes, and then kissed with gooey toothpaste mouths. I'll leave the rest to your imagination, but suffice it to say, I will never watch a Paul Walker movie the same again. Heavy sigh.
Anyway, do the rest of you have dreams like this? And then do you feel guilty because your husband was not your nighttime McDreamy? I do!! Especially when I keep reliving that first kiss feeling over and over during the next day. It somehow seems wrong. I asked Ammon if he ever has dreams about other people, ex-girlfriends, etc., and he is always really vague and says that there is never a face and that he hardly ever remembers any of it. I knew it! I am a tramp in my dreams!
So Paul Walker is one thing since I've never met the man *sniff* and never will *sniff sniff*, but what about when you dream about an ex? Is this like your mind wanting to cheat? What's a little alarming to me is that since the PW dream, I have had similar dreams every single night since, but all with an old boyfriend, and mostly the same one. Yeeeeek! Do you ever wonder if your old boyfriends dream about you? My sister keeps in touch with the sister of one of my old boyfriends (was that a long enough connection?). Should I find out? I think not, because there really is no surreptitious way around that. "So, do you ever dream about Micaela?" "No, why would I? Is she so sad still that she dreams about me all the time even though she is happily married and so am I? Pathetic." This is a conversation I prefer to not take place. But darn it I'm curious!!!

I must hear all your stories out there. Be not afraid to post! This is true confessions time! Do you dream about ex boyfriends or just the Paul Walker/Jon Favreau/Zack Braff dreams (those are my most recent celebrity dreams). Tell all!! I must know!!! Really, you will be setting my heart at rest. Unless you are commenting that I am an unfaithful girl who should be punished for her subconscious' nightly escapades through the land of the naughty.

Chestnuuuuuuts roasting on an open fiiiiiiiiiire. Jack Frosssst nipping at your noooooooose.

I have a proposition for all of you. And NO, to those of you with the dirty minds - shame on you! Not THAT kind of proposition.

Due to the extreeeeeemely inflated ego I have developed as a result of all of your kind comments about the sheer hilarity of my life and how much you think I, little old moi should write a book, I have decided, to write a book! Well, that may be overshooting the mark a titch. Maybe we could just call it a jaunty little collection of my thoughts and whims as related to....and here's where you come in.

Realizing that I have no ability to create and actual storyline or any sensical dialogue, I was thinking my "book" could be more "bloggeresque" if you will. Just a sort of collection of my thoughts on as many subjects as I can think of and have the ninnies to write about.

So, I would like your ideas. What subjects would you like to take my critical eye, cynical views and slightly irreverent notions to? Pregnancy can certainly be added to list, although it may make more sense to make that it's OWN "book", although if you like that idea, than I want to know what you think my chapters should be.
Example: Chapter 1 "My thoughts and feelings on...pee inducing vomit". Too much?

The questions then are these:

1) Should I nip this is the bud with my salad tongs, or perservere - on to fame and much glorying?
2) If you think I should nip this in the bud, please turn around, find the cord that connects to your hard drive, and PULL IT OUT OF THE WALL YOU DISLOYAL MEANIE!!! You are forever banned from my blog!
If you suggested that I persevere, please move on to Question 3.
3)What format should the "book" take? A bloogeresque/Bridget Jones'ish diary approach with salacious stories and smoot. Or is that Smut? Aaaah yes. Smoot was someone who had a building name after him at BYU. Anywho.
OR: I could do a bitter diatribe about the ravaging furnaces of hell that are pregnancy.

4) If you like the former bloggeresque (that word looks more and more like booger everytime I type it) mode of writing, I need SUBJECTS. And lots of them. Give me anything! It could be about Diet Coke - Nectar of the Gods, or about Britneys lack of cotton for the nethers. Although I really don't think there is enough to fill a whole chapter on that. There isn't much more to say than "GOOD LAND WOMAN. YOU HAVE TWO CHILDREN. No one wants to see your goodies anymore". Get your naked little bottom over to KMart and by yourself some Jaclyn Smith panties and stop scaring the children - yours and the rest of the world."

Anyway. Thoughts?

I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell.

Whoooooaaaablleleeeeecccchhhhh. I don't really know how to spell the sound effects of one barfing, but that is peaceful background music of the evening. This week has been a non-stop circus cacapohany of disgusting bodily functions. Wheee!
It started with me on Sunday coughing up whatever sludge had apparently taken up residence in my lungs and of course was accompanied by noseblowing, sneezing, hacking, and many varieties of something that sounded like: "uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh".
Monday was Addy providing me with the most monstruous baby throw ups you have ever seen. She actually threw up so much on me that not only did she cover my whole sweater, half a leg and the floor from wall to wall, but somehow managed to save an extra cup of the chunky stuff for...mommy's cleavage. The funny thing is that I did my darnedest to mop it out, but it was so cold outside that it turned into milky ice chunks in there! NOT A PLEASANT SENSATION!!
The next day was Tuesday, and Tuesday's at our house are..... Diarrhea Day!!! (how in the world do you spell that??) You might be suprised at the force with which a 15 lb baby is able to expel things from that tiny little scphincter. But don't let's it's small size fool you...that little schpincter could blow a Hell's Angel off his hog!!! She seems to really enjoy it too. She gets this almost Dr. Evil'ish laugh going after a good puke or blowout.
Wednesday proved to be Vomit Day round 2, Daddy Style. I have never in my life known someone who throws up as often, or with as much pure force than Ammon. Seriously - he pulled his shoulder this time from wretching so hard - and this is not a first. Poor man. I'm worried that he either going to get hemerroids from straining so hard, or that vein in his neck will just explode! There's got to be a medication for this sort of thing. If this doesn't happen from the barfing, it will surely happen because of the competitive Diarrhea Ammon was also working on on Wed. Whether he was competing with Addy, or his stomach, I don't know. Just let me say, that I was the big loser that day. In many ways.
Thursday is groan day. Groan because you're tired. Groan because your shoulder hurts. Groan because you haven't thrown up but you wish you would. Grown because your XBox isn't working and neither is On Demand. I'll let Ammon know how much sympathy this elicited.

And on to everyone's favorite day of the week...FRIDAY!

In my house, it's Friday-stick-your-finger-down-your-throat day. And no, I am not a bulimic. I seem to have developed a queer medical condition where I can swallow nothing larger that the size of a gnat without violently thrashing around and making strange gurgling noises (Cassy can attest to this) whilst I try to tame the wild beast in my throat. This has gone on my entire life, much to the amusement of all my family who totally ignore me now when it happens, and the friends that happen to witness it for the first time and find my family to be HIGHLY insensitive since no one lifts a finger to help me. It has also allowed many high minded folk (occasionally doctors) that kindly let me know that I AM CRAZY PEOPLE and it's all in my head. Hmmm. I hadn't ever thought of that. Thank you!! Problem solved!!! For those of you out there who may have made these comments at one point. I don't hold it against you. I may tell you that you might want to pluck your toe hair as rebuttal.

Anyway, it's been especially bad this week for 2 reasons: during pregancy, it was grand. I could swallow eighteen Satsuma's in one shot and not even bat an eye (there are some small advantages to having every smooth muscle in your body just poop out and relax for 9 months). But soon after I delivered...zzzzzzzwwwwwppppp. It snapped shut like a mouse trap and I cannot even swallow my happy drug and an ibuprofen together, much less anything larger - like those HORSE CALCIUM PILLS!! How does anyone swallow these? Your espohagus would have to be a 2" diameter plastic pipe hose!
Back to this week. I have also (as noted on Sunday) had a cold which added to a bit of swelling in those regions which has caused even greater troubles. In the last two days, I have choked on: an antidepressant, a piece of bread, bagel, french fries, and lettuce. How does one choke on lettuce? It's mostly water anyway!
This would all be much less problematic if a) they would come straight back up or go all the way down (they like to lodge roughly right in between my boobs for about 30 mins or so, all the while giving me strange gassy pains and gassy sounds and gurgling noises again, or...b) if it didn't happen AT MY DESK~! It happened 4 times in the last 2 days that I have either tried to "choke discreetly" in my trash can (I put quotes in because I think the phrase choke discreetly is an oxymoron), or run maddly to the bathroom with my hand over my mouth while making noises that sound similar to what I think a drowning seal would sound like. sort of a half bark/gurgle.
Anyway, I know they all think I'm bulimic. I'll prove it to them too: "Hey baby, you don't come by this size 14/16 doing nothin! You gotta work at it girl!" You'd have to be pretty dim to think I was a bulimic.

Anywho, that is my blooogering of the night. It is 9:38 and soooo WAY past Mommy's bedtime. I am pathetic.

Aaaaahhh - on a happy note - tomorrow is a MOMENTOUS OCCASION. Hold your breath..........for tomorrow, I have FINALLY FOUND and will receive in my hot little hand......................................................................................................................................



THE PERFECT BAG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I would show you a picture now but that would ruin the surprise. Check baby tomorrow for Mama's Christmas present to herself! Is it in poor taste to actually wrap it and put in under the tree? Perhaps not, but why waste this month when I can be GALIVANTING AROUND TOWN WITH IT like some cool famous person.

Do I love you my oh my? River Deep Mountain High yeah yeah yeah. If I lost you would I cry? Oh how I love you baby, baby, baby, BABY!

I find it really amusing how many concerned emails I have gotten about my "Ambien Addiction". I must also add that I am feeling a teensy defensive, and would like to explain my medical rational behind said addiction:
I NEED DRUGS.
Well...perhaps not, but it truly has gone like this: after not being able to sleep all summer due to excessive stressful events that will remain a mystery too all of you, my doctor put me on Ambien (per my request I should add if I'm being utterly truthful). And I've been taking it ever since for the following reasons:
a) I really am a chronic insomniac and really don't sleep without it
b) It's really really fun
c) I really am a closet drug addict and this is the only legal way I can satiate my need for the ultimate high. However, as I have no other point of reference, Ambien may not actually be the ULTIMATE high, which means I am buggered.

Really though - for all you concerned souls out there, my doctor told me very recently that he doesn't want me to stop taking it until our lives settle down a little more (i.e. never), and that it's not hurting me (minus the general spaciness and loss of intellect).
Do you realize how many times I just said "really"? I must stop.
Also, I write about Ambien a lot because it makes me do VERY strange and amusing things (like buying fat sucker-in-ers at 5am - aaaaah, good times).

OK so enough of my defensive stance. So, on to the question that is burning holes in your hot little minds....what is Micaela up to now, and what has she purchased, eaten, or crashed into lately?
There are of course many fun stories for all of the above, but in consideration of the busy lives of those reading this, let me sum up:
Since I last blogged, I have:
1) crashed our new car
2) seriously considered heaving the dog off the roof as she peed on the new rug for the 28th time. Why she feels like that fluffy white rug is her own personal toilet when she has a whole yard to pee in is beyond my comprehension
3) made the worlds worst ebay purchase ever (see above)
4) hosted 1100 people in my house over one weekend. OK; 7
5) not lost a single pound (yeah me!)
6) bought and forced my daughter to wear not one, but two Halloween costumes (none of which were actually worn on Halloween mind you)
7) had a very intersting conversation with someone in Latvia who was jamming out to Tina Turner in the background
8)consumed so much Diet Coke that I now bleed aspartame

Notes to the above:
1 - I am fine. No, Addy was not in the car. Yes, it was my fault. Yes, I had only had the car for one week. Yes, I crashed the Subaru after I had owned it for a week as well. No, I have not been sent back to Driver's Ed. Yet.

3 - Two words: Dust Rhinos. I saw this lovely rug at Pottery Barn (online only of course - I never buy things I've actually seen in person), and loved it so much, I searched eBay everyday with religious zeal until I found the same one. Thinking I was making a fabulous purchase and getting a great deal to boot, I immediately clicked Buy. My life has not been the same since. Never in my life have I seen one item create so much STUFF without having actually mated one of it's own and procreating. I swear I have already vacuumed up at least 5 complete rugs. How there is one piece of thread left on that floor, I will never understand. I have found what Ammon likes to call Dust Rhinos in every conceivable corner of the house, including, but not limited to: the garage, the neighbors yard, Addy's crib, and my tub. Not only can the rug multiply - it can also FLY.
And to top it all off, Idgie thinks this magical wonder of a rug is the happening venue for her daily potty party. Would anyone like to purchase a rug that magically multiplies and has 3800 "pet stains"? It's from Pottery Barn!

5) Two words: Orange Cupcakes. (or this that three? we must ask Mr. Hostess)

7) No, this was not a new husband I was trying to recruit for my harem from the Eastern Bloc, but someone for WORK. We were talking in a garbled, unintelligible, and pretty hilarious mix of Latvian and English. I think it's called Latvenglish, and the speakers of said language are known to pepperr their conversations with lyrics like "WHHOOOOA WHAT'S LOVE got to do got to with it. WHAT"S LOVE but a seconhand emotion?"

8) No explanation necessary. There was actually some discussion yesterday about the possibility of a Diet Coke fountain. Excellent notion.

As a final update, I must also confess that I have developed an alarming new guilty pleasure: watching The Bachelor. I'm obsessed! Who will Lorenzo pick? Will Sadie give up her virginity? Is there anyone more vuglgar in the world than the chick who keeps wearing crowns and referring to everyone else as commoners? If you understood any of what I was talking about, I feel your pain sister. It's a sickness.

Who ever said that life on this planet would ever be paradise?

Anyone that knew that the title is an obscure Oingo Boingo lyric gets an extra 50 points.

I am sitting at my desk, happily (or not) trying to do my work, but am horribly distracted by the two crazies across from me speaking Dutch in extremely loud tones. Do you know what Dutch sounds like? I was going to try and mimic it but I give up. It cannot be duplicated. What makes it even more annoying is that it is a guy trying to teach our latest sacrificial newbie about a system of ours, but of course, there are no Dutch words for 95% of what they are talking about so it sounds more like this: "...Logoport blah la ble ble blah security ooofshe bloglog not user friendly anuuuu toolbar open segment translate lala iffffdahling click get match". WHY BOTHER?? and WHY IS THIS BOTHERING ME?

Is it because the new woman has eyebrows the size of small volkswagens that she very obviously takes great time and care with? My former Wells Fargo coworker suggested I leave a pair of tweezers on her desk with a note "from a friend". While this is an excellent notion, it would probably just serve to confuse her because she obviously thinks they are wonderful. She also wears excessive amounts of perfume, laughs way too loud, and generally makes me very jealous and insecure because she is new but has much more experience than me, and I'm afraid my boss will realize how truly clueless I am and fire my sad little bottom on the spot. Sigh.

She's dressed in yellow she says hello come sit next to me you fine fellow. You run over there without a second to lose and what comes next...

hey you bust-a-move.

OK seriously. Has taking Ambien made me lose IQ points? If so, we are in trouble because I am already at dangerously low levels post-baby. I don't have much more to lose! I was reading back over my blog (again. I am very self involved) and I have some of the saddest and most pathetic grammatical/spelling/pure taste errors I have ever seen! It looks like my little babykins Addy wrote this blog! I am so ashamed. As one who claims to be a Super Speller (4th place in the 4th grade spelling contest don't mean nothing, yo!), I am mightily embarassed at such a lack of good and proper English. Deepest apologies.

Anyway. Other than the obvious loss of intellingence it seems to cause, I now have an even deeper and more abiding love for my favorite drug. When I ran out last week (AAAHHHHHHHH!!! I WILL NEVER SLEEP AGAIN!!!! I MUST BREAK INTO THE SAFEWAY PHARMACY AND STEAL ALL THEIR AMBIEN!!!!!!!!!!!!! that wouldn't be dishonest would it? alright fine) I took 2 (because the bottle says so, darn it!) Tylenol PM's, only to discover that in addition to the weight of my head increasing by 45 lbs, I also developed that oh so fun nocturnal joy called "Restless Leg Syndrome". This is actually a real syndrome. Typically it is experienced by old people on lots of meds, but I seem to have pushed myself into that category at an early age.
So, restless leg syndrome is where you feel the unquenchable urge to shake and wiggle your legs around like a complete spastic crazy person until either the meds wear off, or the weight of your head becomes so great that you are overcome with sleep (the latter is what finally happened to me). I don't think that's what the AMA Diagnositc Journal says, but so be it.

So after roughly 3 hours of Tylenol PM induced death-sleep, my alarm went off to me experiencing what I can only imagine feels like the worst hangover anyone has ever had. Minus the barfing. Needless to say, I was just a titch (2 hours) late to work that day because I didn't feel it would be safe for me to operate heavy machinery. Luckily for me, my boss and fellow co-workers were sympathetic as they too have experienced the TPM hangover. And of course, they had all sorts of natural remedies to recommend for insomnia - remember, I live in Boulder - home of the overly obsessed herbalists/naturalists/vegans/physical fitness addicts/ and other such health enthusiasts/crazy people. Did you know that I know of at least 4 people in my office that actually go RUNNING at lunch and come back and use the showers in the bathroom? I know those exist in lots of office buildings, but I have never in my life met someone who really USED one. And I wonder why I could stand to lose a few LB's myself. =)

"Well, enough gloom for one day!" (name the movie and i'll give you $100000). I'm off to try and sleep without the assistance of a tiny white pill. Or.....not.
In closing, here are a couple of pictures of my little button. Is there anything cuter than a naked baby? Definitely not a naked old person.
OK so she does not look terribly thrilled in this picture. I swear she really enjoys her baths! Honest!




Doesn't she look like she's going to attack you in this picture?

The dogs have commandeered the baby's piggy chair. How rude.

i'm waaaay too pooped to think of a good song title, so blaaaaaaaahhhh.

Um. Yes. Why did no one kindly remind me that working full time is butt hard? And it is significantly butt harder to work and have a baby in day care. And his the butt hardest to work, have a baby in day care, and a husband getting a phd. Why did know one talk me out of this craziness? Calgon, take me awaaaaay!!!
My job is actually very intersting, but with the sad side effect that people at this company actually seem to work! It't the weirdest thing, but I walk in in the morning, and NOT ONE PERSON is surfing the net! No CNN, no gossip blogs, nothing! This does not bode well for me as I am used to having my requisite 4 hours of internet surfing everyday. I don't know how I'm going to be able to handle doing ACTUAL work for 8 FULL HOURS!!! This might explain why I have been mainlining Diet Coke these last two weeks. I literally do not have enough energy to hit the space bar, much less type a whole email without it. Soooo, if I have been slacking on the personal emails, I am very sorry. I miss it more than words can say.
Aaaaaah - there's my song of the day..."I need you nooooooow, more than words can say, I need you nooooooow. I've gotta find a way, I need you nooooooow. Before I lose my miiiiiiiiiiid, I need you now".
I'm going to lose my mind if I write any more of that songs lyrics.

So, you will all be alarmed to learn that I at a dangerously low supply of Ambien. The red light has started flashing and the alarm is blaring!! Luckily, one of my fellow addicts has kindly offered to send me a stash until my insurance kicks in and I can have more. Dang insurance. Do you any of you find it a little alarming that I am actually having someone send me drugs via USPS to feed my addiction? I think I need to move to Compton and live in a crack house. I might fit in better.

So yesterday, I had a bunch of errands to run. I dropped off Ammon at school, picked up a 800 ozer of DC, went shopping at the outlets, bought a car, picked up Ammon, and went home. Full day, no?

I should also warn you that the purse addiction has reared it's ugly head again. I have found need for a different size/color/shape/personality etc. and of course the first 3 I have purchased are not QUITE it yet. I think I may be becoming OCD. But only with purses. Is there some other fun medication I can start for that?

I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly...I'll do what it takes til I touch the sky

I CANNOT get Kelly Clarkson out of my head! Perhaps this is because I was belting along with her in the car this evening and the lyrics have now been permanently etched into my subconscious. Before any of you starting making fun of me for enjoying my Kelly Clarkson, I ask you to take a close look at yourselves and be honest about YOUR guilty pleasures. Is it Dr. 90210? Jennifer Lopez romantic comedies? Or maybe just everything every written about Britney that you can get your hands on? Fess up now. Enquiring minds want to know! Actually, now that I write this, I really do want to know. So let's take a survey: please respond via comment as to what your favorite guilty pleasure is.
I'll list a few more to help you along:
1) Obviously belting in the car to Kelly Clarkson
2) People magazine and all forms of gossip, including everything on E! News, especially the Daily 10. Debbie Matenwhatsenthingy gets on my nerves but I still like to hear the goods
3) Really really really stupid action movies
4) The Apprentice (and Donald Trump - he kills me!)
5) Vin Diesel
Your turn. Bare your souls! It will feel like a great weight has been lifted.

On to new subjects. Sadly for all of you, it is 1am and I am up, but I have NOT taken an ambien tonight! Yet. Seeing as how I'm still coherent enough to write this, I may need to inhale one shortly so I get at least 23 minutes of sleep tonight. What the heck is wrong with me? I didn't even have any Diet Coke today, and you KNOW how hard that is for me! Anyway, I am up surfing Ebay, bidding on things I shouldn't, and listening to Ammon snore on the couch. He conked out after we finished watching Zathura tonight, or Zenthura for you Apprentice watchers out there. (and yes, Zathura could be considered another guilty pleasure. It was actually fairly clever and charming, but that is because it was directed by Jon Favreau, my secret love). So do I wake Ammon up, or let him snooze there happily until he wakes himself up with a nasty neck kink? Tough call.

This is probably a fairly boring blogging tonight, seeing as how I am not hopped up on both caffeine and sleep meds. What a shame. Well too bad. One has to take control of one's mental health I say! And actually, I am getting nervous that the Ambien is starting to do scary things to me. Like making me exceedingly spacey. And not just forget your own name kind of spacey, but drive off the road because I am looking at the prarie dogs in the field kind of spacey (incidentally, Boulder county has more rules about safety for prarie dogs than it does for humans, so there are quite an excessive amount of them running around. they are cute little buggers though). I kid you not; I have done this enough times that I starting to scare myself, not just Ammon, Addy (if she were aware of how badly I have been driving), and all the other drivers in a 50 mile radius of me. I have also been flipped off at least 4 times since moving here (all in Boulder), and I'm not sure if that is because I really am driving like a drunken prom date or because Boulder is full of crazy, angry hippies. Probably both. It is alarming how angry all the hippies are here. It's very strange. It's as though they all have had an overdose of wheatgrass juice, and have turned into a bunch of mean, mini Hulks with dreadlocks and socially conscious vehicles.

Anywho. I am off to wake the sleeping beastie. Good luck to me!!

Gotta make a wish, take a chance, and make a change....aaaaaaah Kelly. You sing it girl!

response to yesterday...

Sadly,"the pegster", you are incorrect. The correct reference is Cinderalla via Masterpiece theatre with Jennifer Beals and Matthew Broderick. True cinematic genius. However, you get a nickel because you were close.
By the way Pegs, I've noticed you have a new name everytime you post a response. Have you become schizophrenic? Kisses.
Signed,
the mickster
(p.s. if you ever call me this i'll bite your knees off)