Mom's great escape (for the day)

A mom friend and I escaped to Boston for the day a few weekends ago and spent the day... well, I'm almost embarrassed to say. Don't get me wrong, it was glorious and relaxing and totally fun. But in terms of "crazy" and "exciting," I'm not sure you childless folks are going to appreciate this tale (those of you with kids, on the other hand, will understand exactly where I'm coming from).

To sum up the day, we walked around, we talked, we shopped, we ate pastries for lunch (without having to share!), we got fitted for bras, we talked, we had ice cream even after having pastries for lunch and we met another friend for a sinfully caloric dinner and great conversation.

At one point during the day, we found ourselves sitting by a pond in the Public Gardens just... not doing much at all. We admired a bride and groom being photographed, we talked, we sat silently, we people watched, and we wondered how to explain our day to our families. I knew if I described it like the paragraph above, the Pretend Husband wouldn't get it (in fact, I tried that paragraph and his response was, "but you could have done that in the next town over. You didn't have to go all the way to Boston to do that!")

We decided that the day wasn't as much about what we had done, but what we had not done. We hadn't had someone tugging at our clothes at any point during the day, we hadn't been interrupted in our conversation even once, we hadn't had to stop a little human from falling or diving headfirst into the pond. We hadn't had to answer the question, "why?" six times in a row. We hadn't had to keep to a schedule so no one would miss their nap and be incredibly cranky for the rest of the day. We hadn't had to make decisions based on anyone else's wants or needs. And it was wonderful.

While I did miss my family that day, it was exactly what I needed. A beautiful day with a good friend, good conversation, great pastries and not doing much of anything. It was perfect.

Who needs these fancy baby products when we have a whole refrigerator full of options?

Butt paste, nipple butter-- there are some interesting products for mother and baby out there. I was the guest of honor at two wonderful baby showers this weekend, and was also the recipient of a box of nipple butter at the first shower, which was a couples event that had both the Pretend Husband and I opening gifts.

After opening the nipple butter (it's meant to bring relief for nursing mothers), I began joking around about what other products might be available: nipple mayonnaise? Ooh, the PH likes mustard... how about nipple mustard? But he LOVES hot sauce. How about that?

While we continued opening gifts, the PH's guy friends started rustling around in the next room. Shortly after, we were handed the last gift-- a strange looking black bag that wasn't exactly in the baby shower style.

I peeked inside and immediately handed it to the PH, saying, "It's for you." He then pulled out a bottle of hot sauce with a label his friends created that said, "Red Hot Nipple Sauce."

I'm all for making my husband happy, but I think the line gets drawn somewhere around the idea of putting a spicy condiment on certain sensitive areas of my body. (Oh great, with all this talk about hot sauce, now I'm craving buffalo wings!)

Lesson learned.

We get together with the BAC family pretty regularly because both BAC's wife and mine (love you, PH!) are huge "American Idol" fans... and BAC and I are big fans of making fun of AI, causing us to be yelled at pretty regularly while it's on.

Anyway, we almost always meet up at the BAC's house and we usually bring Molly & Casey with us. Yesterday, I tried a couple of different ways to have our plans work out so the dogs could go with us, but the PH put the kibosh on it because it would have included one of us doing a heck of a lot of driving to pick them up and get them to the BAC house. Which was fine that they missed a night of "American Idol."

Until we got to the BAC house and realized their daughter, who is almost 2, was counting on hanging out with her furry friends. Her parents had talked it up and she had even pantomimed how she was going to help feed the dogs their dinner. I quickly shifted the blame onto the PH, who felt absolutely terrible when he saw Little BAC's face. And here we thought she enjoyed spending time with us! Believe me, lesson learned and we will NOT be leaving the dogs home again.

A Birthday Ode for My Best Friend and Co-Blogger

An Ode to KAT - in honor of her BIRTHDAY!
(sung to the tune of … well. You’ll probably figure it out)

You’re a great one, K-A-T.
You really are a pal.
You're as wonderful as chocolate,
You're better than my ex-boyfriend Sal.
K-A-T…


You're a lovely lady
With medium-length auburn hair!


You're a sweetheart, K-A-T.
But your red sweater has some pills.
Your brain is full of facts,
You've got mad editorial skillz,
K-A-T…


But I still wouldn't hug you, with a
thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole.

You're amazing, K-A-T...
You have ice cream in your freezer!
You have all the best Wii games
Of a techno ubernerd.
K-A-T…..


Given the choice between you and the PH as a setback partner
I'd know what to do!


You're just awesome, K-A-T.
You're a fun and crazy treat.
Your fridge is full of taco salad
And you make yummy, melty fudge.
K-A-T….


Three words that can describe you,
are, and I quote: "Doesn’t Eat Meat."


You're my bestie, K-A-T.
You're the queen of shenanigans.
You’re always up for plots
But you hate bread with moldy spoots,
K-A-T….


Your soul is an amazing, generous glowing bird
with the most colorful plumage imaginable,
Combined with polka-dot high heel boots.


You make me laugh! K-A-T,
And yes, you do eat chicken and turkey.
But if you could, you’d live on Dairy Queen,
K-A-T.


You're a Chocolate Explosion blizzard,
With a Friendly’s Frend-zee
With extra peanut butter AND chocolate sauce!!

Having a five-mile wide neighborhood could get a little tough on the trick-or-treaters

Oh man, did you ever have one of those neighbors who you could spend all sorts of time with and it's just not enough for them? Like, you let them sleep over your house on a Thursday night (and make them waffles in the morning), but THEN they still want you to visit their house on Friday night? And THEN they come over to your house on Sunday for dinner? And THEN they accept an invite to come over for dinner on Wednesday night? And THEN they invite you over for dinner the next Sunday? And THEN they want to establish a weekly dinner with you? It's so hard for the Pretend Husband and I, being just so popular with our neighbors *insert dramatic sigh here*

You may have picked up on the fact that SJ and her husband moved Friday! To our town! And all that complaining I was doing was fake and was in fact, just a way to rub it in about how much time we now get to spend with them and how awesome that is (we have decks of cards scattered all over both houses because you never know when a Setback game will need to be played!)

I would love to tell you about SJ's new house because it's huge and fabulous and, thanks to her family, had a completely organized kitchen by the time they went to bed on their first night in the house. But I don't want to steal her thunder (seriously, though, it's huge... and fabulous.)

But I will say, welcome to the neighborhood, SJ (what? I can't extend my neighborhood five miles to the west to include SJ's house?) We're excited to have you and look forward to those weekly dinners and if a game or two of Setback gets played afterward, who am I to complain?

Because a true friend turns the attention on herself when you're having medical issues...

My best friend in high school, "Bertha," was put on modified bed rest this weekend, meaning she can't leave her house for the next two weeks and can only get up from the couch to use the bathroom or sit at the dinner table, but no cooking or setting up the nursery or being on her feet. She has 10 weeks left in her pregnancy and is hoping the bed rest will not be continued through all of them since she has a lot of work left to do to prepare for this baby.

While I was on the phone with her yesterday hearing about her predicament, I tried to come up with some things she could do from the couch. I suggested she have her husband wash all of the new baby clothes and then bring her the basket so she can fold them on the couch. Then I asked her to watch "Oprah" for me today and be ready to summarize it when I call (I also vowed to call a lot more now that I have a captive audience. She can't avoid my calls now!)

Last night, I came up with a few more ideas, so I emailed her to suggest she read through the entire archive of this blog and send me an email detailing how funny she thinks I am. And, if that task gets done fast enough, how about I send her some beads and she can spend some time making crafts that I can then sell as my own? I'm still coming up with some more ideas for her and am open to suggestions.

But, please, let's make sure they benefit me in some way. Because although this concerns Bertha and whatever precautions need to be taken to keep her son healthy and safe, I've managed to make it all about me. That takes talent.

Four weeks in the Renaissance will give you such a crick in the neck...

I totally stole that from Alladin. You caught me. But in truth, I have a headache, caused by a neck crick.

So, I'm a little swamped playing catch up with life since I've spent the past four weekends singing sea shanties while dressed in period appropriate clothing and working like a dog during the week.

As you would have guessed by KAT's post, it's been FREAKING COLD. So this past weekend, that meant wearing all three of my costumes at ONCE to keep warm in the 40 degree (and 38 degree) weather.

There's also the whole me moving into a new house in three and a half weeks thing that's probably causing my neck to crick. I should probably start packing in earnest. But frankly, I have not been motivated. I feel like to pack is to jinx my closing date.

But, in keeping with the pictures of me in costume, I'm including my absolute favorite picture taken of me and my very dear friend the Pope (Not really, guys. He only *plays* the Pope. I feel I had to qualify).

Huzzah! I'll be back to give you the trials of home buying/selling shortly. And by shortly I mean, you know. Within a week.

You'll know me by the drink in my hand...

I've mentioned my friend, Mrs. Cheech, before. She was in my wedding party and is my oldest friend. After I graduated from college and returned to my home state, I not only kept up my friendship with Mrs. Cheech, but became friends with her two older brothers.

One of Mrs. Cheech's older brothers used to tease me by introducing me to people as, "This is my sister's friend, KAT" even though he and I were friends in our own right. I saw him as a party this weekend and he said the same thing, just to bust my chops. So I feigned annoyance, then explained to the Pretend Husband how the older bro used to do that to me all.the.time.

Then the older bro said, "Yeah, the other thing we used to say was, 'Oh, KAT's coming to the party? Better get some more alcohol!'"

And if that wasn't bad enough, another friend told the story about how, shortly after a group of us went out for drinks and dinner about 10 years ago, he ran into my dad and said, "Hi, KAT's dad. I just saw KAT the other night." My dad's response: "Was it in a bar?"

Apparently, I had quite the reputation in my younger days (and didn't even know it!)

Just substitute "soda" for "margaritas" and "spaghetti sauce" for "guacamole"-- being practical can be no fun

I'm becoming an expert on aging. I feel like getting old is becoming something of a theme for me around here. And this post is not going to help dispel that.

Yesterday was Cinco de Mayo. Ole! The traditional Mexican celebration of... "I'm not sure, but bring on the Coronas and margaritas." We got together with the BAC family, as we do once a week during the "American Idol" season (before you judge, you should know that only Mrs. BAC and the Pretend Husband actually watch the show-- BAC and I are just there to get yelled at for making comments and talking while people are singing).

Anyway, we commented about how it was Cinco de Mayo and we should definitely order out for Mexican food and the guys would go to pick it up and stay for a margarita or two while the food was being prepared. And then we got all logical (this is where being old comes in) and thought, "But the Mexican restaurant is going to be so busy on Cinco de Mayo. But you know what won't be? The Italian place. Let's go there!"

So we celebrated the old Mexican holiday of Cinco de Mayo... with linguine in clam sauce and eggplant parmesan. But the PH did put a lime in his beer-- does that count for anything?

On splinters, Rick Springfield, lack of sleep and yardwork

Hi bloggy buddies!

How's it going? If you've guess SJ has had a crapload of caffeine today, you are exactly right! Every thought of mine right now is magnified and running about 10 times faster than usual!

Freaking awesome!

So right now, I've had very little sleep because of my crazed addiction to work, which is second only to my crazed addiction to the office coffee maker. I can guarantee you this blog post isn't going to make much sense in paragraph form, so I've decided to bullet point my thoughts.

• I have a splinter in my finger because of seriously overly ambitious pruning in my yard on Sunday. The splinter is mostly gone, but I think there's still a piece left. A friend told me to put a piece of ham on it. I think she's just trying to make me look silly.
  
• Yes, I did yard work. About four hours of it, after getting 3.5 hours of sleep the night before.
• Because the night before I went to see Rick Springfield.
• Stop laughing. I'm totally serious.
• Yes, he sang Jessie's Girl. Yes, it was awesome. There was an encore.
• Again I ended up at a karaoke bar, and actually sang by myself. Thank god there were no video cameras.
  
• It gets worse. I sang a Jewel song. But at the time, I had a super awesome time. Sunday may have been a little tough, however.

Sorry, Interweb. That's all I have for you.

Happy Birthday, dude! And some other stuff.

Actually, it's not the blog's birthday.

It's my bloggy friend Pat's birthday. His *30th* birthday - which is kind of a big deal.

So if you get a chance, please endear him with happy birthday wishes and assure him that he is not old, particularly because every time he says that, it makes me feel older.

Pat, here's my gift to you:


What's that, you ask? What did I do this weekend? Well, I had fun. It involved singing Irish folk songs, singing karaoke (badly) after with my friend Henry (Pictured below. He's single, ladies. Just saying. Quite the catch. And totally made me look almost good at karaoke.) and some other fabulous friends and I topped it all off with a fun New Haven adventure that involved Frank Pepe's pizza *and* seeing dinosaurs (the Peabody museum at Yale).

All in all - good times.

I'm going to start introducing the PH as "Bob" and see if he notices...

I got together with some college friends this week and one of the things we talked about was a mutual friend who recently got engaged. We all remembered a conversation that took place right after she met the man who would, years later, become her fiance. They had been out a few times and things were going well, and she loved everything about him... except his name. In fact, she HATED his name. And was trying to come up with something else to call him (as in, his name was "Rod," but she was going to suddenly start calling him "Derek"-- how awesome is that?!?) She never did try to change his name but, from what I've heard, she's still not a fan of it.

The topic came up because one of my college friends who visited this week is facing a similar situation. She loves the guy she's dating, loves spending time with him... not so in love with his name. And she was considering telling him to change it (I encouraged that approach just because I figured his reaction would make for an entertaining story...) I think her final solution is to come up with a pet name for him so she never has to use his real one (She told him, "You'll be 'Babe' soon enough.")

I don't hate the Pretend Husband's name by any means (especially because it's so similar to mine-- as I've said, we have a Pat & Patricia-type thing going on), but I rarely use it. Instead, we are "hon" (as in "honey") to each other. In fact, an easy way to tell I've annoyed the PH is when he calls me by my name. I'm not sure if we tried out different names for each other, but "hon" is what stuck. Oh, and I've started calling him "Mr. Tickles" because it's random and makes him wonder what he did to earn it. Got to keep those guys-- whatever you call them-- on their toes.

what I do when my husband isn't home part 2

i sent this pic to my husband who had to work on monday. i did not. i also informed him that i picked up the dog poop in the yard and reminded him we had plans for dinner with KAT and SRG and their hubbies.



he told me i was the best wife ever. i think, however, if he had other wives, i probably wouldn't retain that title. and we probably wouldn't be married.

as for dinner? such a great time. as always. i love SRG and KAT oodles, mostly because they are fun and don't pick on me for wearing renaissance outfits and singing to twos of people. oh wait. they *do* pick on me for that. but i love them anyway. silly bitches.

current itunes song: "all my friends" LCD Soundsystem featuring Franz Ferdinand

i've had about enough, thanks.

Dear 2008,

You suck.

Can you stop soon? You have exactly 9 days to get your act together and ship the heck out before I have a temper tantrum worse than you've ever seen. Worse than, say, Kanye losing an award to Lil John, or some such.

You and your death and sickness and all that crap - and heartbreak and all that -- have just done me in. I'm done with you. What did you offer me this year? Seriously? What *good thing*? A promotion, which was okay and all (okay - that was actually pretty awesome of you) but then you riddle me with so much stress and crap that really, was it worth it? (maybe? i'm not completely sold.) Okay, granted, I did make some new friends, who are *fabulous*. And we did blog a hell of a lot more than we had previously. But on the whole, you were mean to me, 2008. And we are not parting as friends.

So how about you go the way of the other worst years ever and get out of my sight. In fact, you should go make out with 2005. I hope you two are really happy together.


sj

When real life and blog life collide...

Well, not really *collide*.

But kind of. Okay not at all.

Let me just try to explain. One of the blogs I follow, as you can see, from our happy reads there on the right... See them? Okay, back to me. Focus, people! ... is called Blog Like an Egyptian. I have no idea where he got that name. I assume he really likes the Bangles. And why not, really. But the funny dude that writes it is an editor at daily newspaper nearish to where I work. I've never met him. At all. But I read his blog. And I believe we have one mutual acquaintance. But that's it. He probably thinks I'm a crazy person.

But that would just indicate that he may actually know me.

And why do I mention it? For no real reason other than the fact that it's like I know him, but I don't, and neither do my friends. But I reference his blog in conversation with other people that I do know in real life as if they must have read it too and they must know what I'm talking about. I do this with other blogs too, but notably his, because he's in CT.

Evidence A: He recently blogged about Britney and Joan Jett. So I started a conversation with someone I work with right after reading his blog that was somewhere along the lines of, "So yeah, I'd spend $125 to watch that insanity unfold."

Blank stares ensue. Then I spend 10 minutes trying to cover like I didn't just have a conversation with someone in my head before speaking out loud.

Evidence B:
j: Have you heard from any of your friends today?
me: Yeah! Andy had this brilliant idea to come up with definitions for word verification... and sb is so my twin. Have you ever heard Aussie slang?
j: huh?

I confess the lines between our bloggy world and our real world can get fuzzy. And throw Twitter and FB and forget it. I have an electronic identity crisis.

I figure I'm not alone. Right?

Happy Birthday, BFF!

Today is a holiday. Did you not know it?

Well. Let me do my part by spreading the word.

Today is the third anniversary of the 29th birthday of our beloved KAT. Yay!

And, as we like to do here on Funnygals, no birthday is complete with out a blog tribute. And since we've been doing this for so long, you'd think it'd be hard to come up with special little memories that we've shared together.

In fact, it is not at all hard. Because we try, even with our busy crazy lives, to spend at least 6 martinis together each month. (That's a little shout out to our dearest Molly who has been too busy to blog, but we still love her oodles. I think being a phone sex operator may be a little wearying. Poor lamb.)

So, without further ado, here is my blog tribute to the lovely and talented KAT. These are my plans for her at 32.

1. We've discussed it, but we haven't done it yet. And I think no time like the present for us to dress up in our wedding finery and head over to Dairy Queen. What's that? DQ is closed? You know, that'd usually be the case, but KAT and I know every one in the state and there is one not far from us that actually stays open year round. Stay tuned for pics.

2. Girls weekend. We haven't had a good one in a *long* time, mostly because of her penchant for working nine jobs. But, this year, we WILL make time to ditch the boys and head off on our own to some lovely beachy retreat to drink martinis, eat chocolate bon bons and enjoy the sunset from our ocean view balcony room that must exist somewhere between Old Saybrook and Cape Cod, hopefully conveniently close to our favorite lobster place.

3. I think she should have a baby. No pressure. But. Just saying. If not, she should at least practice conceiving.

4. Did we ever share the hamburger story? Add to it the Kit Kat story. If we haven't, well. I leave that to KAT's discretion.

5. This is rapidly deteriorating into a things I love about KAT, so what the heck. Let's just go with that.

6. I love that I can call her at 8:15 on her birthday to wish her a happy birthday, and she's been up for two hours. I also love that I can call her at 10 a.m. some days and it's like she just got up. She's all quirky like that.

7. I love that we can order complimentary martinis. We know enough never to order the same ones at the same time. Duh. How else can you get through the martini menu and still remember which ones you liked?

8. I love that she remembers every birthday of every person she ever met. Maybe not, but it seems that way.

9. I love that we can go - at most - two weeks without actually speaking, but be fully informed of what's going on thanks to the blog.

10. We totally talk about you all in real life like we know you all. You are frequently in our conversations when we get together for dinner.

There are, at least, 90 more things I could come up with. But I'm still a little exhausted after a bug, so my brain isn't working that fast. Besides, I have to save the next 10 for 33. And then 34... you get the idea.

So please take a minute, if you will, to wish my dearest KAT a happy birthday, and please share with us what things you love about her. I promise I won't reuse them in the birthday card that I'm making for her. Honest.

Hugs and Kisses,
sj

What, us? Competitive?

As it happened, Kat's lil sis and my good friend, Mrs. Matt, were pregnant at the same time and due only six days apart. So it was natural that would ask me how the other was doing, how much weight they had gained, etc.

And I wouldn't be named FunnyGal KAT if I didn't have a little fun with it, right?

So I kind of enjoyed filling in Lil Sis about Mrs. Matt's perfect pregnancy. She actually lost weight at the beginning of her pregnancy while Lil Sis was beefing up. And when Lil Sis was suffering from swollen ankles and all sorts of other maladies, Mrs. Matt had a cute little bump and no discernible weight gain anywhere else.

Lil Sis figured that since she was way more miserable (and due first), it was only right she have her baby before Mrs. Matt had hers. So, when I told her Mrs. Matt had given birth the day before, her response was "That little f#^&er!" (Actually, Mrs. Matt hadn't given birth-- she had only told me to tell Lil Sis good luck with her delivery and I translated it... hee hee!)

And it didn't help matters that Lil Sis spent 11 hours in labor while Mrs. Matt was in the delivery room for nine whole minutes (which she describes as "the most painful nine minutes I've ever felt..." but I've noticed she only says that when other mothers aren't around!) Yeah, Lil Sis is a little miffed at Mrs. Matt and her perfect pregnancy, delivery and child. So, of course we had to capitalize on that.

Last night, shortly after Lil Sis arrived at my dad's house with the best nephew in the world, I told her I had recently talked to Mrs. Matt (keep in mind these kids are 10 weeks old and their greatest trick at this point is smiling...)

KAT: "Mrs. Matt was asking about Peyton, how much he weighs and what he's doing."

Lil Sis: "What's her daughter doing?"

KAT: "She's close to rolling over and Mrs. Matt thinks she might start crawling in the next few weeks."

Lil Sis: "Well, they say boys don't develop as quickly as girls..."

KAT: "And she doesn't quite say 'Mama' yet, but she's been saying, 'Mmmmmmaaaaa..."

Lil Sis: "Oh my gosh, Mrs. Matt has, like, a genius child!"

Yeah, I'd say Lil Sis is still pissed about the nine minute delivery...

things that totally made my day today

it's a monday, and mondays are usually icky and horrible, but today, my day has been superb (which is much-needed because yesterday was kind of crap).

so here's my short list of things that made today great:

1) an awesome email from a good friend of mine whom i hadn't heard from all week (and i miss him a lot).
2) a huge bouquet of flowers delivered to me at work from j. *sigh.
3) a peanut butter pie made by a co-worker that will require me to do an hour and a half of pilates but whatevs.
4) an old flame telling me how hot i looked in a pic i posted on FB (thank you, and i know - and double parenthetical note: FB is still my dirty little mistress to blogger. but she knows it's not serious.)
5) nothing blowing up yet.
6) the knowledge that i only have to get through this week before i'm on vacation next week with Jal and little E and I can't WAIT. i'll bring my laptop to blog from the Happiest Place on Earth.

i know we have to follow our recend award rules and post our pics, and we will this week. scout's honor. although i was never in these "scouts" - so. that doesn't sound promising, does it?

OK, back to the funny...

I'm not sure SJ has done her husband J justice about just how funny the dude can be. He's the type of guy who might go-- let's say-- an entire card game without cracking a joke. But other nights, the boy is on fire with the one-liners, the dirty jokes and the awesome comebacks. It never fails that the Pretend Husband and I spend the car ride home going back over our favorites on the nights J is "on."

In any case, that's my long introduction to the funniest thing J has said lately. I was talking to SJ the day after Halloween and I mentioned that srg and her lovely family stopped by our new house (since we're now practically neighbors). I also mentioned that it's possible I weirded out srg and her lovely family by mentioning like 17 times how we should meet up for dinner one night at the only restaurant in town (what? is it that obvious we're desperate for local friends?!?)

SJ thought it was great that we were interested in hanging out with one another and turned from the phone to explain to J what I said. She asked J, "Honey, wouldn't it be great if the PH and KAT became friends with srg and her cool cat husband?"

J's reply was less-than-enthusiastic, though: "You know how [the PH] doesn't like to mix his side dishes with his main meal? It's kind of like that."

I'm not sure, but I think SJ's husband may have implied I'm a hot dish (either that or I'm mashed potatoes, but I'm not sure how to take that).

Plans for Halloween?

I have plans for Halloween!

And I'm so excited about it.... because it involves me going to a spooky castle and scaring people. And yes, I realize only the first part of that is different from any other Friday night.

Jealous? You don't need to be. You can go too! (If you're in the Gloucester, Mass. area on Friday night...)

It's called "Castle of the Damned" and I don't really know much of the details, except that it's put on by some of my newest friends whom I just adore, as you'll recall from my previous famously-titled I have a crush on the Pope entry.

And it's AWESOME. The castle, I mean. I went last weekend with Kara and an Annoying Boy.

So if you, dear reader 1 and 2 from Massachussetts (which I know about because of our awesome map), are in the area on Friday, come get spooked!