Who ya talking to?

I have a problem.  OK, I have several tons of problems but I'm only going to discuss one at a time.

I talk to myself.  A LOT.
  

ü      If I get interrupted when doing something, I remind myself where I was and what's left to do. 

ü      If I can't remember how to do something, I give myself suggestions. 

ü      If I'm lost, I calm myself by chatting away. 

ü      If I do something wrong (especially at work), I call myself names (dummy, stupid ass, and jerk are just a few). 

ü      If something really cool happens, I cheer about it. 

ü      If my blood sugar is abnormal (high or low), I repeatedly ask myself, "What the hell happened?"  Or, if know what happened, I discuss it and tell myself it won’t happen again.

ü      If I hurt myself (I tend to staple my finger or slam my knee into my desk at work), I swear and complain about how much it hurts. 

ü      When I’m composing a letter (or a blog!) and can’t think of a word or phrase to use, I sound out all sorts of stuff to see what would work.

ü      If I try a new food, drink, or flavor of gum, I comment on it.

ü      If I’m at a store and like something I see on display, I tell myself how “pretty” or “cool” it is.  I might even try to convince myself to buy it.  Can you be an enabler to yourself?

ü      If I’m alone and I burp (or fart for that matter – yes, we girls do that!), I say “Excuse me.”

ü      When I listening to the radio and hear something I agree with or disagree with, I comment.  It’s usually something like, “Ain’t that the truth!” or “You gotta be kidding me!”  Whoops – I guess I’m not really talking to myself in that case, am I?  I’m talking to someone (or should I say something since it’s a radio?).  Maybe that one is allowable?

ü      I say things like, “Time for some more water.” or “I better get to the bathroom before I pee my pants.” all the time.

Now remember, all these things are said out loud and in normal speaking voice (and I have a loud voice).

At work, if I am swearing at myself or calling myself a name, it never fails that someone will walk by my office door.  I often hope they don't think I'm calling them "Jerk" as they are going by! 

I get a lot of strange looks.  I’ve been teased about it (I don’t care) and asked many times, “Do you answer yourself?”

Why yes, I do answer myself.  I usually get the responses I want that way!!

Exercise!

I wrote earlier that Angry and I were going to try to get healthy.  We are hoping to get in shape and, as a result, lose some weight.  Read about it here if you haven't already.

We've been sort of eating healthy but struggle sometimes.  He's lost a decent amount of weight.  I, on the other hand, lost some then gained some back.  We are going to keep working on it!!

The new addition to the mix is, say it with me, EXERCISE!!  The dreaded exercise.

We joined a gym and went for the first time last night.  I took a Zumba class and he worked out on an elliptical machine and lifted weights.

I actually enjoyed the class.  I had to "slow down" quite a bit as my heart rate went up too high but that's OK.  Fat and lazy do not equal jumping into this full force!!  I felt good (and really tired) when we got home.  I really felt like I had accomplished something.  Angry agreed.

I hate to admit it but I’m looking forward to going again tonight and continuing on with a new routine in our life.

Fat and lazy?  Changing as we speak.

Who got flashed?

So, I'm sitting at my desk and I glance down.  I notice that one of the buttons on my shirt is unbuttoned!!  Oh my god, who'd I flash?

Luckily, it was a button near my waist and not at the level of "the girls." 

I can just imagine, "Hey Liz, nice boobies!"  My ego tells me that's what they'd say.  The actual results may have been quite different!!

I think my co-workers would have only seen my bra.

Still, that's not something I want them privy to!!

A story about a sandwich.

Angry and I were at a local bar having a late-night beer after a show.

It was quiet, with a small crowd sitting around the bar.  We could all sit comfortably with lots of stools between each other.  This will be important in a moment.

In walks a couple.  He was walking with quite a “strut.”  Immediately, I sensed an attitude.  He looked like he thought they were very, very important.  They decided to cram into the two stools right next to me and she pushed and shoved her legs against mine.  I was forced to move over or be squished.  You couldn’t find two stools with some space between? D’oh!

The conversation with the bartender went like this:

Man With An Attitude:  “Hey there!  How ya doin’?  It’s been a long time and it’s good to be here.”

Cute Blonde Bartender:  “What can I get you guys to drink?”

Wife With Attitude:  “I need a rainbow.”

CBB:  “What’s that?”

WWA (in a very snarky voice):  “It’s Sambuca and Tequila Rose.”

CBB:  “We don’t have Tequila Rose.”

WWA:  “snort”  Yes, that’s right, she just snorted.  Did that mean she wanted something else?  Who knows.

MWAA:  “I’d like a corned beef sandwich.  They always hook me up with lots of extra corned beef.”

CBB:  “I’m not sure the kitchen is still serving dinner.  I’ll check for you.” 

Keep in mind, it was close to midnight.  The bartender went to check and I had to listen to the man say over and over that they “always” serve late and that he “always” gets “hooked up” with extra corned beef.  I felt like he was making sure everyone around him knew how important he was.

CBB (coming back from kitchen):  “I’m sorry Sir; the kitchen is serving only appetizers for another half an hour or so.”

MWAA (starting to whine):  “I can always get my corned beef no mater what time it is!”

CBB:  “We were just purchased by a new owner and they are making some changes.  The kitchen hours are one of them as they are planning to change the menu.”

MWAA (sounding like he was going to cry):  “I was looking forward to that corned beef like I look forward to Christmas!”

CBB (handing him a menu):  “I’m so sorry Sir.  If you’d like, I can put an order in for any of the appetizers on the menu.  Did you want a drink?”

MWAA (speaking to his wife):  “Let’s get the hell out of here.  I guess they don’t like their regular customers any more.”

As the man and woman stormed out of the bar, he stomped his foot and very loudly said, “Damn It!”

The other patrons at the bar immediately began laughing and commenting on this man's bad attitude and self importance.  And the anger.  So much anger.  I heard the words, “I always get hooked up with extra corned beef” repeated several times followed by howls of laughter. 

We chatted with the bartender and she said that she works most nights and had never, ever seen this guy.  Regular?  Not so much.  She also said that she has never heard of “hooking up” anyone with extra meat on their sandwich without charging for it.  She said, “You can get what you want but you’re gonna pay for it.”

Now, I enjoy eating out and good food.  But I’ve never likened a sandwich to Christmas.  And, I’ve never had a fit if something wasn’t available (especially late at night when most bars only have limited menus).  Pick something else for Pete’s sake.

This guy was almost crying over the fact that he couldn’t get his “hooked up” corned beef sandwich at almost midnight.  Chill out!  Have a drink and relax.  It’s just a sandwich.

 

Honor

One of my favorite bloggers, Laura at Fetch My Flying Monkeys (look for her in my reading list), posted this on Facebook last night.

I stole it because it's great and celebrates our military men and women.

Thanks go out to all who have served, who are serving, and who will serve in the future.  We own our freedom to all of you!



Protecting civilians.  They are HEROES!



Speaking of the heebie jeebies. . .

You want to know what else gives me the heebie jeebies (besides lawns)? 

Centipedes!!

When I see one, I run.  Far away.

Then, I tell Angry to crush the hell out of it.  Picture me facing the opposite direction and pointing in the creature's general direction yelling, "Kill it already!"

I'm not afraid of them.  They are tiny and could never hurt me (as far as I know, please don't tell me they CAN hurt me).  What bothers me is that they are CREEPY!  And, they show up in creepy places.  Like my tub. 

I won't be reading my own blog since this is too creepy for me!  I'm not kidding.


I found one in the kitchen sink once when Angry wasn't home.  I CAN NOT even look at them let alone squish them myself.  The creep factor wins out over the "it's just a bug" factor.  Since he wasn’t around to help save me, I grabbed a coffee mug and trapped it.  He took care of it smashed it when he got home.

They need to go away.  Forever.

I don't think this is normal!

As we head into Spring, I am seeing and hearing lots of commercials for lawn care services and products.

The TV commercials show people sitting on, laying on, and playing on their lawns (which of course are the perfect shade of green).

The thought of sitting or laying on a lawn gives me the heebie jeebies!!  All I can think about is the yucky feeling of the grass on my feet and legs (and arms if I were to, god forbid, lay down).  Then, I think about all the gross bugs that could be in there.  Then, I think about all the bird feet germs and poop mixed in there.  Then, I think of all the critters like rabbits, squirrels, and chipmunks that had their feet and hind ends on the grass (and they poop too!). 

I'd like to rip up my lawn, lay down a slab of concrete, and paint it green!

Normal?  I think not.  Do I care?  No!  Just keep that grass away from me.