Meanie

I am so mean this week. I swear I've been picking fights with anyone outside my family I can find. (My family should be seriously grateful they've been spared).
I insulted a member of my condo board (caused he's an ass and he insults me regularly). I flipped off a guy at a seminar I went to last week cause he stole my seat during lunch and then was a complete jerk to me when I came back. Then when I tried to return something at Lowes and they wanted to give me cash instead of put it on a card (I had other things to pick up), I asked the clerk why they couldn't just make my life easy?
I know. I know! What is my problem? Probably not enough shopping...or scrapbooking. Nope. That's not it.
Oh my heck, I need a serious vacation away from my family. Oh gosh. That was mean too wasn't it?

People I don't trust

There are some people that are innately untrustworthy. I'm going to tell you who they are so you don't find yourself in a pickle.

First. Runners. These are people who find some sort of sick joy in running....nowhere. They run away from home and then they turn around and run back. Sounds like a phenomenal waste of time. My friend's husband is a doctor and he said that he can always spot a runner because their bodies have aged about 20 years past their numerical age. It's a very destructive habit. So why do they do it? Bragging rights. If you know runners, then you know how they can't stop talking about their next marathon and how fast they run the mile. My point is....does this information go on a resume? No. Does it go with you when you die? No. DOES ANYONE CARE? Again...no.

Second. Cyclists. Now this sport makes more sense to me than running because at least you can go kind of fast and it's definitely more fun. Here's the catch though. These people ride in the road! You've seen them. It's not like they ride just off the gutter. They're like 5 feet into the road. You're driving along and suddenly you find yourself veering way off to the left and hoving over the turning lane so you don't hit Mr. Tight Shorts while he wheels along his merry way. Well, I'm sorry but the road is for vehicles with combustion engines only. If you don't run on gas (or ok...a hybrid vehicle) then get the heck off the asphalt. And I'm sorry, but what is with the outfit? There's no faster way for a man to look gay than to throw on a pair of those stretchy little shorts. It's a fashion don't people.

Last. Homeless people. I know you're thinking I'm a bad person right about now, and frankly, you'd be right. But really! These people live outside on purpose. And they do it without the fancy campout equipment. And yes, it is a choice. I've seen guys holding signs asking for money right in front of the McDonalds with the "Now Hiring" sign. I'm just saying that it's hardly worth spending the night under the stars unless you have the blow up mattress.

Now you are armed with the information to stay away from untrustworthy people. And, as GI Joe says... knowing is half the battle. Let me know if you find any others that should be added to the list!

Birthday!

A little shout out to Cindy B! It's her birthday! Holla!

Headache!

I have a headache. I've had a headache for like.....5 days. And the thing is...when I get a headache, things in my brain go kind of ridiculous. Everything is off. It's kind of like when your hair does a weird thing and you just feel "off" all day. Actually, I looked in the mirror a couple of days ago while at work and realized that I'd forgotten to put my mascara on. It was like I had no eyelashes and it was seriously disconcerting. Even though probably nobody cared, I spent the rest of my day wondering if people thought I had done away with my eyelashes. Either way, things are off.

White kids can't sing the blues

I was at my sons choir concert last night and feeling very ready to hear my son and his cohorts sing some classy fabulous chorale arrangements. Turns out the entire program for the evening was popular music including a little jazz and blues. This was not a good idea.
It's not that I didn't like the music. It was fabulous! A little beatles, some Styx, and even some Aretha (quick bow to the mother of Blues). It's just that it was ....white kids. I realize I am a "white kid" myself, but have you ever heard a bunch of fourteen year olds try to rock "Baby you can drive my car"? It's not a good thing. I've never heard syncopation be so amazingly...even.
The highlight of the evening was of course, the 8th grade boys choir. They sang "Sail Away" and they were rockin the 70's when they added an electric guitar, drums and yes...a synthesizer. Way too cute.

Scrapbooking Day

These are a couple of pages of digital scrapbooking I did awhile back. Why do I post these today? Today is National Scrapbooking Day. Can you believe it? A whole day to celebrate scrapbooking. Yes! I've had it marked on my calendar because my favorite scrapbook store has 25% off the whole store all day plus free Make n Takes this afternoon.

So here's the bad part. I'm sick. I woke up this morning with aches, chills and a hacking cough. So now I'm sitting here in my recliner with a Chihuahua curled up on my legs (sigh!) having to celebrate scrapbook day vicariously. Maybe I'll just visit scrapbook blogs on the web all day and see what other people are doing. I really was hoping to go to the store and get cutesy paper and fancy stickers and say "That is darling!" (my husband hates it when I say that) to all the new products. Great. I guess I'll just sit here and not know what's new and hot in the scrapbooking world. I'll watch National Lampoon's vacation for the 100th time (that part actually makes me happy) and feel sorry for myself. You should too.

May Jewelry

Check out the May jewelry from Cookie Lee!

Trigger's "sit in"

My dog is the only one who knows how to enjoy the outdoors. When we had some sun this week, Trigger would take the opportunity to cripple my legs as he shot past me every time I opened the door. He jogs just out of reach and then…lays down. He doesn’t tear off after something or chase his tail. He just lays down. He weighs in at about 90 pounds and he knows I can’t make him come inside if he doesn’t want to go, so it’s actually pretty effective. My favorite part about a good Trigger “sit in” is when he rolls onto his back. All that beautiful long Golden Retriever hair just spreads out on the grass and his front paws kind of flop over his ribcage. He rubs his head in the lawn and wiggles his back end back and forth over the grass. You know what he wants….a tummy rub. Trigger can always be bought with a tummy rub.
So here I am laughing at the dog instead of diligently trying to bring him inside before someone from the condo board realizes I have an unleashed dog outside my residence. I can’t get my kids up from the downstairs to enjoy the beautiful day, but the dog and I can enjoy it without them. Maybe I’ll come out and sit with him for awhile.

Kindergarten Round Up

Driving by a school the other day, I saw it was time for Kindergarten “round up”. I love the inference that the five year olds are so wild that they require “rounding up”. Just throw a rope around a big group of them and yank them into school. Keep a border collie just outside in case of strays.
There’s a cartoon that used to be on TV called “Recess”. In the show, the kindergarteners are portrayed Indians. They wear face paint and rarely use English words. My guess is that these kids are “rounded up” at the beginning of the year.
I think it would be a good idea to round up 7th graders. I mean, if anyone is crazy or wild, I think it’s 7th graders. At least 7th grade boys. They could put it on the Marquee. “7th Grade Boys Roundup” and then we could all bring our wild boys down on a certain day to have them registered and lassoed. I think they’d need a lot of Border Collies.

Walmart Shoppers

You know those emails that have been going around with pictures of completely insane people who shop at Walmart? Well, we saw one of them! I took my kids to St. George for a little getaway and while we were at Walmart (I know there's one near my house, but this one had different stuff) Mitchell saw an older guy (maybe 70+) wearing HOT PINK SHORTS! And they were seriously short too! I don't know what he was thinking but I was scrambling for my phone to take a picture when we lost him. The children let me down and didn't follow where he was going. Dangit! I think you all would've enjoyed it. I could've started my own email and become famous.

So back to St. George. I have a little sunburn as a result of my laying in the sun for several hours at the pool in gorgeous 78 degree weather. I wear my burn proudly. It means I've actually been in the sun and able to wear clothing that would expose me to it's harmful rays. Yes! Take that! Anyway, the kids and I stayed at the crappiest hotel ever and we loved it. We played games in the room, shopped for spring clothes, went to dinner and a movie and of course, hung out at the pool. We made fun of people who eat boiled eggs from the continental breakfast bar and while we were at it, we stole some hot chocolate packets for bedtime. Mitchell invented a new superhero named bumblebee man who wears a hotel sheet on his head and heckles his little sister. He also perfected the art of complaining about shopping with girls while walking and texting a girl at the same time. Zoe, whoever you are, we are glad that every detail of our trip was texted to you and hope you enjoyed it. I learned that Kylee "doesn't do" stripes as we shopped for T-shirts, but that she IS on "team Jacob" when we found a shirt with the beautiful Taylor Lautner on it. Don't you love family bonding?

So now we're back. The dogs are still in Idaho with my cute husband it's so peaceful here that I'm able to keep my Zen going for one more day. I'll leave that thought with you along with a picture of my cutie pie new niece. Introducing McKinna Kathleen. Isn't she squishy baby cute?

Wing

Wing is the season between winter and spring. It only exists in Utah. Maybe a few other areas too but who cares about those?
Today is the 5th of April and there's a freakin blizzard outside. Last week I let my daughter wear capris to school and now the coats are back on. My crocus and daffodils are up and there's two inches of snow on them.
Here's the weather forecast for a typical winter in Utah. December we get like 12 feet of snow. January and part of February is where you go for days on end without seeing the sky. Then, in March just before everyone wants to kill themselves we get a little peek of sun. Maybe a weekend of 50 or 55 degrees. We all get excited and start making plans to plant gardens and get the kids bikes out. People take walks and push their kids around in strollers. Then it snows. And it rains. This is followed by a day of sun somewhere just to keep us guessing and then there's more snow.
I'm not allowed to complain because I was born here. When I got my birth certificate it was with the understanding that I would be willing to endure 8 months of winter and 2 months of blistering heat each year. I have learned that you don't plant flowers until at least Memorial Day and that you CAN wear flip flops with a jacket and not look completely insane. However, those of you who are wearing shorts in the snow need to stop it. We don't care if you don't mind the cold...you look stupid. General rule of fashion is that when you need the heater on in the car and you are wearing a coat, shorts stay in the closet.
I'll have more seasonal fashion tips in the future. I'm sure you'll be grateful.

April Insider's Club

Check out how cute the April jewelry is!

So here's the thing. It's tax season. I say that a lot this time of year because it's kind of an excuse/explanation for my life right now. From about February 1st to April 15th, I suck at most everything. I'm a bad friend, a bad mother, a bad visiting teacher, a bad aunt, a bad school volunteer...the list goes on. But at least, I'm a rockin' accountant.
This year I've been trying to pull it together and still have dinner on the table each night since I'm still a newlywed and I want my husband to think he got a good deal when he married me. Next year I'll let the cat out of the bag and he can see what it's like to eat Campbell's soup for three months while I sit in my office and work.
Every year I make a list of things that our tax money will pay for. This year, after all the kids clothes, car registration, etc I'm hoping to redo my upstairs bathroom. This bathroom needs it bad because, like my furnace, it is the original 1950s stuff that came with the house. My problem is this...I'm cheap. Like, really cheap. Ridiculously cheap. I learned it from my parents. I come from cheapness on both sides.
I've decided to install a new vanity myself. Of course, by "myself" I mean, I will oversee my husband doing it. Hey, don't feel bad for him. I made dinner every night remember?
I'll update you on the bathroom which obviously won't get started until after tax season.

Moving Day

This is a little something I wrote last year when my brother was moving.

It’s moving day. Not for me. My brother and his wife are moving into their first house. I love moving day. Although again…not for me.
Moving day is like a family reunion. Your friends and family come over. Everyone looks like they’re ready to raise a barn wearing their old shoes, sweatshirts and jeans. All the cars and trucks pull up and people clear out their trunks and back seats so we can jam your stuff in there.

Then comes the good part. We get to go through all your stuff. We see everything you own. We know what is hiding in your couch when we pick it up and cookie crumbs fall out. We see what’s in the back of your freezer you forgot was there and notice that your movies are not alphabetized. We haul boxes back and forth… and then we start to goof off. We fake like we’re going to toss your favorite mirror over the balcony to get it down the stairs faster. We joke that we’re going to ride your mattress down three flights of stairs. We put your winter hats on and make fun of your ties. Volunteer helpers are never very serious. We don’t care that much because all of our stuff is at home waiting for us to come relax. There’s no sense of urgency there.

I like watching the men on moving day. Even men who normally aren’t very into the “man” stuff like hunting or watching football always seem to walk a little taller on moving day. The women defer to them to take the washer and dryer up or down the stairs and we let them carry twice as many items as us while we scurry back and forth. It’s not that we can’t do it. I mean, I moved myself and two kids twice as a single Mom by myself. I can carry a bookcase as well as anyone, but frankly I’d rather watch the guys do it. They’re very proud of themselves.

For some reason, someone always brings a small kid on moving day. Without fail, someone will bring a three year old along like it’s going to help. People hand the short one something like a roll of paper towels to carry to the truck and back and make them think they’re helping. And as darling as they are…I always wonder why someone thought it would be a good idea to bring them along.

Then before you know it, moving day is over and we’re all standing around waiting for our free pizza. I kinda wish I was moving now.

Alarm Clock

My husband is away this weekend. I'm not sure why but he seems to think he's my personal alarm clock. I love my husband very much but when he knows I'm sleeping, he calls to wake me up when he thinks I need to get up. This is usually about 15 minutes before I actually need to get up. Is there anything more annoying than being awakend JUST BEFORE you have to be awake? No time to get back to sleep and no reason to really get up. Just time to sit and wonder why someone woke you up 15 minutes too early.

On a more important note...last weekend ended like this:
Sister in law DID go into labor. I took charge and took over care of the 3 yr old and 18 month old. I was awesome. Cutesy babyness ensued and I'm an aunt again. 6 lb 8 oz McKinna Kathleen is adorable.
Grandma is still alive. No problem.
Parents got picked up from the airport. Still no tip. Sigh!

I'm in charge!

Day 1
My Mom and Dad have left the country on vacation and I've been put in charge. I drove the family to the airport, pulled out their luggage like a good Taxi driver and I didn't even get a tip. Later, my Dad called to tell me he'd left his cell phone plugged in at home and could I run over and unplug it. ??? Suuuuurrre.
I was given the assignment of checking up on my Grandmother every day because my Mom thinks she's going to die while they're on vacation. I promised I would put her on ice if she did. I called Grandma to tell her that I'm in charge. She sounded impressed.

Day 2
My second duty as the woman in charge is to keep track of my sister-in-law. She's a couple weeks away from her due date and Mom is afraid she'll go into labor while they're on vacation. (Do you sense a theme here?) I called her to tell her I'm in charge. She chuckled.

Day 3
I had to stop at my Moms house today to get some of the tax folders that are there. My Mom is my tax helper this year and does all my printing and stuff. She puts all the labels on, stamps the copies and puts those little flag arrows on the signature lines for me. Basically, all the fun stuff.

It seemed so weird to walk into their house and not have anybody there. I tried on a bunch of their clothes and made some long distance calls and rearranged their DVD collection so it's out of order. I was thinking of sending smoke signals out the chimney but I'm not sure anyone would notice. I'm in charge! What are they going to do?

I'm a cartoon

Lately, I've been having fun creating myself as an animated person.

Check me out!

March Insider's Club

This is the jewelry for March in the Cookie Lee Insider's club. It's only available for a limited time so if you love it, grab it!

My new scraproom

I'm getting my own scrapbooking room! Actually, it's the tiny area under the stairs. And I mean tiny. But you know what? It's mine!
It used to be our game closet, but after we had a little leak and I had to clean the area out...I decided the area would be better used as a scrapbook station for Mom. Better used because...well, if Mom ain't happy, then ...you know the rest.
Anyway, my husband sheetrocked it in and added an outlet for me. (This is why I got married you know) and while he's away this weekend I did the second plaster coat and I just finished adding the primer to the sheetrock so I can paint later tonight. I'm so excited! After this, we just need to install the desktop. One of my clients makes office workstations and cubicles and he said he'd cut some countertop for me. I'm so excited! (I already said that, I know).
The only problem now is fitting all of my extensive scrapbooking stuff into this small space and making it workable. I'll figure something out. I'll upload a picture as soon as it's done!

There's a dead frog in my purse

I look fabulous today. I have black slacks, high heels and a stunning sweater. My jewelry is eye catching. My purse is a pink faux crocodile print and in it I’m carrying a dead frog. I know. How did it come to this?

My daughter likes animals. You know “animal people”. They have a long list of animals they own, many of them in multiples. They always list their pets to you like they’re proud of living in a zoo. “I have three dogs, six cats, a bird, two hamsters and a spider that lives behind my dresser”. These people just NEED animals to be happy apparently. I don’t know how one ended up in my family because neither her father or I are particularly nuts about them. We both always had a dog, but there’s a difference between someone with a dog and an “animal person”.

Anyway, my daughter felt like three dogs and two cats in our house was not quite enough and brought in two frogs. One died…..obviously. The pet store will replace it if it dies within a week or so but you have to bring in proof. So we dug up the box from the flower bed where we’d held the funeral the previous afternoon and I put in my purse. It felt like the thing to do at the time. It sat right between my expensive phone and my subway card and off we went to the pet store. It wasn’t until we were getting out of the car and walking to the door that I thought to myself…”There’s a dead frog in my purse.” But then the voice inside my head said “Huh. You don’t seem the type” And that made me wonder what type of woman DOES walk around with a dead frog in her purse.
The lesson here is that you can never judge a person by their looks. Maybe they have a dead frog in their purse.