Friday, September 30, 2011


Lil Big Man: "fart, fart, fart, you smell like a fart. I'm going to fart. Pffffft. Excuse me I just FARTED!"
Me: "Please do not say the word fart again. If you say that word again, you will not earn your points and you will have to move your clip."
{approximately 5 minutes later....}
Me:"Boys! Hustle over and meet me at the FARTboard. OOPS! Smart Board."
All 3 boys: "awww! You just said the word!"
Lil Big Man: "Your clip needs to be moved."
I didn't have the hear to break it to them that I do not have a clip AND I can say fart whenever I want.
Fart, fart, fart, fart, fart, fart, fart!

Monday, September 26, 2011

I Hate Flying Things...

The roomie and I spent a relaxing Sunday pampering ourselves with mani's/pedi's and really good coffee.
As we were leaving the nail salon, I spotted a snickers bar. Snickers bite sized, of course. But still snickers. And still ooey and gooey and caramel-y and chocolate-y and .. and.. well, you get the point.

As I was ripping open the elusive snickers bar, I ruined my nail. For the third time. (yes, I'm super impatient and/or spastic and always hit my nails on something or touch them too early and pow! it's ruined.) And the roomie was totally making fun of me for being spastic/impatient and was all, "Wow.. I can't believe you had to have your nails retouched 3 times because you can't just sit like a normal person and let them dry."

Truth hurts.Whatevs.

I was plotting my revenge when all of a sudden a flippin' stink bug the size of Montana flew and landed on my hand. If you know anything about stink bugs, you know you can't squish them because they smell all kinds of gross. And they are totally prehistoric looking, so they look like they may be distant relatives of triceratops.

In my head I'm all like, "WTF do I do?! I can't squish this thing because there will be bug guts all over my hand. And I can't move my fingers because the roomie will make fun of me and I'm out of the salon now so I can't even get this shiz fixed. CRAP!" Outside my head, I'm all like, "aaaaaaaaaaaaah!" and I blew on the darn thing and won't you know it wouldn't even move! It was like the spider man of stink bugs. Again, I'm all like, "aaaaaaaaaaah!" and blowing my brains out trying to get this thing to fly away.

Roommate? Laughing.

Me? Freaking.

Stink bug? Likely laughing.

I finally decided to flick my hand. Won't you know that thing stood there and took it! I finally gave one good blow and it didn't budge, but then jumped off my hand. I totally showed that thing who is boss!

From there, we headed to the pet store to check out the prices on dog bones because when you have two dogs, it's like you go through bones in a hot second and all we ever do is spend $20 here and $20 there on stupid bones for the dogs. So we wanted them cheap.

We're just walking in when I see some 10 year old holding a freakin' gerbil in his hand and I'm all like, "Holy shiz! Drop that thing! It might bite you!" As I'm having a mental freak out, a bird begins squawking. We're talking screaming at us.

Now would be a great time to time-out and remind you that I'm deathly afraid of birds. I was attacked on multiple occasions growing up and I just can't handle them.

So I'm having a mental freak out about the creepy crawly gerbil while this 10 year old is all but making out with it, when the bird screams bloody murder at me. You know what I did? I ran. I ran out of the bloody pet store because I'm a baby and I'm scared to death of birds.

And you know what that 10 year old did? He laughed at me.

Sucker. Wait 'til the gerbil poops on your hand.


Saturday, September 24, 2011

That was.....uh... Weird.

Today I was driving, minding my own business. I happened to glance in the rearview mirror and see a police cruiser at the light I just went through. I'm all like, "Crap! Was I following the rules?" And quickly realized that I was. No big deal. Right?

Wrong. The cruiser goes through the light and starts driving really fast right behind me. Then the lights go on. No chance it was for me, right? I was following the rules.


Then I look in the mirror again to see if, hopefully, I know the officer. You know because the bf is an officer and I know a bunch of his friends.

I then realize it is a face I know. In fact, I know the face really well. It was my freakin' boyfriend! I was pulled over by my boyfriend.

Needless to say, I got away without a ticket.

Friday, September 23, 2011


I'm only in for a minute to make you all SUPER-jealous...
Last night? The Boy and I had "date night". It was his turn to make the plans (which I secretly LOVE because I have to make way too many decisions at work that.. well, by the time I get home, I can.not make a decision) and you know what he decided?
Dinner & shopping!
Shut the front door, ya'll. Shopping. Homeboy wanted to freakin' shop. Yes, please! Apparently he needed to get some socks and underoos and figured we could kill two birds with one stone, grab dinner at the mall, then grab his goods.
Here's the kicker. He wanted me to join in the fun and knew my funds are, well, limited. So he gave me money and told me to buy myself something nice. CHA CHING!
Until.. he gave me a stipulation. It couldn't be black, white, or gray. Apparently he thinks that's all I wear. (Which is totally true, but whatevs.)
Ironically, I made it work. I bought some really great clothes that were out of my element and I'm planning on rockin' them in the near future. Pictures. Promise.

Friday, September 16, 2011


Remember how I moved recently?

My new address is all of one number off of my old address (with a totally different road name, town, and zip code...) and I effed up and typed the wrong address for the DMV when I changed it online. No biggie, right? WRONG. I didn't notice until AFTER I returned from the DMV to renew my driver's license.

The license I waited in line for an hour to get.

The one that cost me $30.

The one I literally got less than 3 hours prior to realizing my mistake.

Turns out they cost money to be replaced. And you can get a ticket for having an invalid driver's license.

To make matters worse? I realized it as I was walking into the gyne*cologists office and was almost hit by a car because I was walking down aisle with my head down, paying no attention to the driver who was driving balls to the wall to make their appointment. Seriously. Who is that excited to go to the gyne*cologist?

Probably the same person who pays $30 for a driver's license that is valid for 5 years with the WRONG address.

Excuses, Excuses...

I'm super lame at blogging lately. In my defense, though, I am just getting back into the swing of things with school starting, a new place, a new roommate, a new dog (the roomie's dog), and grad classes.

Basically, my day consists of waking up, going to school, staying late, coming home, watching the dogs engage in wrestle mania, yelling at the dogs, chatting with my roommate, doing schoolwork (either work or grad class), washing my face, going to bed. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

A few little funnies along the way, though.

John Cena, Jr: "Ms. L! Why I gotta tell you these words all the time?"
Me:  "So you can be a fabulous reader! These are words we see all the time when we read and we can't sound them out because they are rule breakers. So we're going to keep practicing to be all star readers!"
JCJ: "Can't we just tell everyone I can read?"

No, Johnny Jr. we can't tell them that. It's actually my job to teach you. Even though you don't want to learn and tell me that on a semi-regular basis.

A past kiddo had the audacity to tell me, "My new teacher is my favorite teacher. You were just my longest teacher."

Um, excuse me buddy? I put up with your shenanigans for 3 years. I taught you to read. I taught you to actually be a decent human being. She's put up with you for like 32 seconds and she takes my reigning title? Kids. No respect.

And... I may or may not have accidentally tripped over the SMARTBoard (it has yet to be hung.. grrrr.) and fell flat on my face. My kiddos came to my rescue and were very concerned for my safety. They suggested we tell the principal it had to be hung up immediately so nobody else would get hurt.

My little cutie pie has started talking up a storm! He's normally non-verbal and while that was utterly obnoxious, it's difficult to discourage his talking even when he's interrupting me. He totally comes out with some funny stuff and is a little parrot. He's all bossy and shiz to my other kid and the other kid (who is approximately 89 times his size and 2 grades older) totally takes it. I have to hide my laughter.

But thank goodness it's Friday. I need a break.

Friday, September 9, 2011

Homework & Birds...

Little Man told me today, "I don't have my homework because.. well, you'll never believe this, but a bird ate it!"
Ummmm... excuse me?
"I was doing my homework on the patio and I went inside to go to the bathroom, when a bird swooped down and took my homework."
But it's been raining nonstop for the past three days, how were you doing your homework in the rain?
"I was using an umbrella."
Let me clear this up, you were doing your homework on the patio, under an umbrella, when you went inside and a bird swooped down and took your homework?
Riiiiight. And here I thought you might tell me your dog ate it.
"I don't have a dog. Plus, a dog could get really sick if he ate paper."
If I call your mom, will she say the same story?
"Nope. She was in the bathroom when it happened."
Sure. Right. I believe you.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Sunshiney people

As most of you know, I just moved in with one of my girlfriends and we are totally digging our new pad. The pups get along famously and we spend most of our evenings giggling like little school girls. It's seriously like being in college again, only I have responsibility now. That part stinks, but it also provides an income so I can do fun things like drink wine, get my toes done, and make trips to Tar-jay on a semi-regular basis.
The only downfall? She's a morning person and I'm a peppy person approximately 80% of the time. Sure, we all have our moments but 6 AM is not one of mine. She's all, "Good morning!" and I'm all, "Grrrr." She's all perky and making breakfast and coffee and I'm all, "Grrr. Give me 5 more minutes. Grrr."
I may or may not have had to sit her down and fill her in on my morning shenanigans. Talking to me before 7 AM and expecting a response other than a grunt just ain't going to happen.
I laugh about it (after 7 AM, natch) because my dad used to say he couldn't talk to me until after I showered, did my hair, and got my make up on. Which is almost 100% true, except on the weekends because I usually don't get up and shower immediately. So that means it's usually about an hour after I get up. And totally on my own terms.
So ladies.. how many of you are all peppy, perky, glowing rays of sunshine in the AM?