Archive for March, 2007
-image-Crazy Stopped By
yesterday and left a lengthy comment in my latest post.
Did anyone else see the conspiracy-themed irrational manifesto left?
Considering it wasn’t a personal attack on me and clearly left by someone stopping by the site just to leave their special brand of paranoia, I planned on leaving it…until I noticed the ridiculous length.
In Arial 12 pt font, this “comment” rants on for FORTY FOUR pages in Word. 44.
That’s a whole lot of anger, delusions, accusations and warnings! I mean, I can get riled up about things, too, but 44 pages? Bra-VO!
I’d hate to think what this dude (or dudette) thinks about Sanjaya! Or Lizzie & George!? Let the manifestos flow!
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
6:50 pm |
-image-Mr. Squirrel requests your assistance
only that I’m lying and he never did. But truly, I think this was a call for help.
1. The University at Illinois. Champaign-Urbana or Urbana-Champaign? What do you call it? I’m sure many of you don’t call it anything, but for those who know it, what flows naturally from your mouth?
2. Wait, I do distinctly remember Mr. Squirrel jokingly request help from you to help us come up with “games we can play together” in the evening instead of resorting to our normal routine. I know, I know. And “hide the salami” has already been suggested. But back to his legitimate request… our normal routine, you query? Do you want the inside scoop on what exciting adventures Mr. Squirrel and I engage in nightly? The rest of this post is rated BBB, as in Triple B for boring:
7:30 — put Jojo to bed
7:31 — turn on Tivo. Watch one episode of something (last night: Lost)
8:00 — pause Tivo for food break: Mr. Squirrel grabs ice cream, and I make tea. I’m so over ice cream. It’s bringing me down.
8:02 — turn on laptop, next to me on the couch.
8:25 — done with show.
8:26 — whine about nothing else being on Tivo lineup. Vow to email AMC again about the return of Hustle and curse ABC for (you should know by now) flushing TKoP.
8:28 — Mr. Squirrel moves into the dining room, turns on his work laptop and begins working. On work. At home. See the problem? Yours truly is already reading blogs, checking email, online shopping and otherwise not engaging her man at all. Also: much to Mr. Squirrel’s annoyance yet tolerated because it’s cleaning out the Now Playing list on Tivo, I’m also watching the last (sob!) episodes of Six Feet Under.
11:09 — exclamation from one of us at the late hour and OH MY GOD let’s go to bed.
11:25 — both hit the bed.
Are you as hot and bothered and JEALOUS as you should not be for we are lame?
So Mr. Squirrel wants suggestions on what we can do together (read her: yes, we understand “sex” is an option. Let’s try for alternative options.). Ideas? (another note: he refuses to knit with me. And, I refuse to watch the Mets. Although… David Wright is hotttttt.).
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Totally different vein o’ conversation: so at 8:45 am this morning, I was turning into work and noticed, across the street, at a gas station a student getting in her car. She wore a flimsy lingerie-inspired spaghetti-strapped camisole, tight jean capris and black stiletto heels.
At 8:45 in the morning.
In Upstate New York, where the local temperature was not yet 30 degrees.
Not. Yet. 30 degrees.
The high today is 55, but still.
The next student I saw wore a knee length wool coat, knitted hat and wool scarf wrapped several times around her neck. What the f?
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
12:22 pm |
-image-You know what bugs me?
I’ve only watched a couple episodes of Extreme Home Makeover, but it bugs. I can’t help it. I’m sure my complaints aren’t anything new or enlightening, but I just need to say it. I probably wouldn’t even say anything, except to grumble to Mr. Squirrel if we happen to flip it on accidentally, but my friend Jenna Bluecircle (No really, that’s her name. Except it’s not…but it’s something close to that) alerted me to the fact that Extreme! Home! Makeover! is in our area and in need of volunteers! To help! Let’s create a ginormous, ridiculous pimped-out home for some hero in our area.
Now. Don’t get me wrong. Several of the families I’ve seen or heard about are grateful for the new digs and easier living conditions…like the little boy with the disease which makes his fragile bones susceptible to breakage. The team outfitted their (ginormous) new home with soft flooring, walls and handrails. I get a lot of what they did. I just don’t understand why they have to go so over-the-top all the damn time. Can’t they instead build 5 really wonderful, safe and paid-for normal-sized homes? I guess I’d rather see more families benefit from receiving the gift of shelter, comfort and assistance over a huge production (and ridiculously sized command center/hotel) for one family.
I have a difficult time, too, saying the word “deserve” or “hero” because I think “hero” gets bandied about far too often these days. I also feel like people tend to feel they deserve things more than than feel like they should work towards their desired goal. I realize that some people are dealt difficult hands in life, and I am happy that our society reaches out to try and make their lives easier; but do they DESERVE it? Are they heroes? I don’t know, and I’m sure my feelings would vary on a case-by-case basis. Is it me? Maybe I’ve only seen episodes where these words are thrown out in a melodramatic and abundant manner… but it bugged.
Maybe I just wish it wasn’t done on tv…in such a splashy way. With all of the expected drama, tears and for-the-love-of-Christ, that one tan guy’s insanely white teeth. Needless to say, don’t look for me in the crowd, yelling “MOVE THAT BUS!” and holding up a “TY, MY FRIEND POODLE TOTALLY WANTS TO HOLD YOUR (LOVE) HAMMER!” sign. Although…it is on my way home…and I’m sure Poodle would really appreciate that…especially if I used her real name. Hmmm… where’s my Sharpie?
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To continue what could be the longest list of all time… (ok, fine, I’ll limit it to top of mind things)
2. How when you look for flights online in the evening and the general cost is $280. Then 12 hours later, you resume searching only to find the same exact flights listed for $313. HATE you, NWA, I hate you.
3. Um. Office location. So my office window sits like 30 yards behind some apartments. Student apartments. Ok, I’m not sure it’s around 30 yards. I measure distances by figuring how many steps I would have to take to “hit my mark” a la Marching Band. Because I’m a Total Dork. While peering through my blinds, I’m all “8 steps from the wall to the end of the sidewalk is 5 yards. 8 steps from there to the plastic bag snagged on the tree is 5 yards. 8 steps through the discarded Dunkin Donuts coffee cups (NOT mine) and assorted trash to THAT tree is 5 yards. Up the hill 8 steps through the hastily tossed refuse and assorted windblown trash — another 5 yards. Cresting the hill, breaking free from the litter-infested trees to the brown grass of the apartment lawn– yet another 5 yards. To the backdoor of the apartment building — I’m there.” See? 30ish yards. Whew. And what was my point? That there’s a boatload of litter behind my office, stuck in the trees (damn you trees! trash!) and muckin’ up the landscape? No. That when jackelopes lock themselves out of said apartments, they walk around to the back and yell up to their roommates: Bill! Bill! Bill! Bill? BILL! BILL! BILL! BILL! BILL!HEY BILL! BIIIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL. Bill? Fuck. And I can hear that. All. All five long minutes of BILL.
4. The little remote locking clicker thingy for my car fell off my key chain. So now I walk away from my car, fumble to find the clicker locker thingy, grumble to myself for forgetting that I don’t have the clicker (and of course that the damn thing fell off), look around to see if anyone has noticed that I’m talking to myself, and finally lock the damn car with my key. If Jojo sits on my hip during this, then I do all of the aforementioned while also trying not to curse, drop him and/or reframe the situation into a positive learning experience: “oh no! Mommy forgot to lock the car. Let’s go back! Look at mommy’s old school way of locking the car, Jojo! I put the key in the lock and turn– totally 1980s! I wasn’t even on birth control back then…that’s how old school this all is!”
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
2:54 pm |
-image-Remember when I was grateful?
I used to do this thing…attempting to be routine…on Tuesdays called Grateful Tuesdays, where I would list 5 things I’m grateful for today. Considering today is Tuesday and I remembered this seemingly ‘duh’ fact, I’m going hop on this occasional bandwagon and resume ridin (grateful style):
5 things I’m grateful for:
1. Mr. Squirrel. What a fantastic husband. How lucky am I? He totally stepped up and took care of me (and Jojo) this weekend when we were plagued with various ailments of the oozing, aching, vomiting and general crap-feelin’ variety. Not that Mr. Squirrel doesn’t do a lot any other day of the week, but he did things without me asking (like taking Jojo on a trip to the museum!) and can I get a ‘hallelujah’ for that? SING IT! Thank you.
2. Free toys! Yes, you heard it here! Well, you’re too late. Sorry. K gifted us her kids’ ball pit that was “lost on the move” to their new house. Jojo hearts it long time, and doesn’t it match our living room decor nicely? What a generous friend– Jojo and I gratefully thank K and her family.
3. Toys R’ Us on a cloudy, drizzly day. Since we’ve been quarantined in our house for the past 4 days, this morning, with clear eyes and no oozing snot, Jojo and I headed to Toys R’ Us to purchase some additional balls for the (free!) ball pit. Alas, both local stores were out of balls and “oh I don’t think so” about ordering them online ($11 shipping PER box of 100) , but …but… Jojo found great joy in runnin’ all through the houses in the Little Tykeish neighborhood of play houses. I’m sure the workers there don’t consider the set-up as a playground for customers, but TDB because you’re all out of balls so there.
4. My mom’s group…because the majority of the moms do not give a rat’s behind that I didn’t put on makeup when I dropped by this awesome-o jump around place which you can drop by for like 4 hours (for $2.50 per kid!) and hang out with other moms/play with other kids and (most importantly) different toys! I wasn’t sure if we could make it today, but on the way home from Toys R’ Us, the Corolla guided us there…completely unaware that my cosmetics bag sat on the kitchen table. No quick fix in the car. I may have scared some of the smaller children, but let’s hope their memories are short. We both just needed to get out of the house for a while, and with the mom’s group so well-planned, each week, I know somewhere to drop by where I’ll know at least a few of the moms and their children. Jojo loves this location– after several days of sad faces, I was grateful and thrilled to see him running over to me with arms raised and a BIG smile!
5. Kind of shallow, but hey, it’s my list. Lands’ End and their fantastic sale– check out the sandals on Jojo. Socks with sandals? Say it isn’t so. But yes. Indeed, he insisted on wearing the sandals this morning (genetic, perhaps?). I grabbed a pair in the next size up for him, too. $7.99. Fanfriggintastic! I can use those savings on extra balls for the ball pit, should Toys R’ Us decide to stock them ever again.
5a. Dancing with the Stars. What? Did I just… What? I accidentally caught a few numbers last night and HELLO HOOKED. Go Apolo! And Clyde! And lest we forget Joey. Ok, so it’s really nothing to be grateful for except that our Tivo line up looks pretty lean these days thanks to hiatuses and jackelopes canceling fantastic sitcoms (yes, those two words rarely pair up together). I’m talkin’ to YOU, ABC, and givin’ the old screw-the-pooch to The Knights of Prosperity. Wow, someone is not sounding so grateful all of a sudden. I guess that’s why this one is 5a…
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
12:54 pm |
-image-Updates and Answers
HOLA! And I’m not just talking to you. HOLA EVERYONE. Que pasa? Warning — this post is random. Commence reading.
Por favor cross your fingers that Jojo does NOT wake up every twenty minutes beginning at around 2:30 like he has the past 2 nights… I think his fever is finally gone (knock knock/cross fingers/throw salt DO WHAT YOU MUST, PEOPLE!). My LANTA this virus sucks ginormous balls of suckitude.
The best part of these treasures he brings home come when he shares them with his mom. Somehow Mr. Squirrel escaped these germs, but I’ve not faired so fortunate. Friday Jojo and I just sat around festering in our germs; I usually don’t put the tv on for more than one episode of Sesame Street, but I queued up 2 of those and one Barney. Momma can only handle one, barely one, of the simple dinosaur. And those kids… seriously, didn’t their parents learn anything from that unfortunate Subway ad from a few years ago where that white girl starts doing the Running Man and says “Check it out!” and then her career tanks? Because really? Don’t do ‘the robot.’ Just don’t, kids.
Saturday, I spent most of the day in bed with a sinus infection, migraine and at least thirty wadded up, crusty used tissues. In an effort to be the Best Husband EVER, my sweetie made me soup. No, not any soup. I wanted chicken noodle, but when we only had chicken broth, Mr. Squirrel cut up spaghetti into little noodle sized lengths and made his own chicken noodle soup for me! Then he brewed me some delicious tea with honey. And to top it off… he allowed me to stay in bed for so long that I finished the entire 300 glorious minutes of Pride & Prejudice (Colin F-ing Firth). Despite the vomiting and general feelings of neverending craptacularness, the day was pretty fantastic.
Today: Sunday. UNC ruined my bracket. I spilled bleach on my favorite jeans. Something is in my good eye, rendering my sight fuzzy. My nose remains stuffed. BUT… but. There is hope. Hope for tomorrow.
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Am I the only one who leaves my email address on every comment I leave on the internet? Apparently so. You guys don’t know how many times a day I try to respond to one of your comments via email only to have it be returned due to you not leaving an email address. Think of the witty emails and personalized love you’re missing out on! How can you go ON like this? I’ve decided to answer a few of the recent questions or comments below…ones that I would have emailed but I never got around to it or you’re anonymous in some way:
1. Erika asked in regards to this post…a post where I reveal my struggles with depression, if I’m still using the pack n play in the background. Excellent and perceptive question, Erika. Thanks for the sympathy. Kidding. Oops, now I see you asked me to email you the response, but in case anyone else was wondering if I stick little Jojo in the pack n play to go cry in the fetal position whilst clutchin’ my anti-depressants, the answer is no! Although, that would be a safe place to put him if it comes to that. However, funny you asked, Erika, because I’m not sure we’ve ever placed Jojo in there… he slept in there once when we visited Mr. Squirrel’s father, but honestly… I don’t think I’ve ever used it like that. Instead, we use it as a changing table on our main floor and a storage area for wipes, diapers, and toys which Jojo tosses over the edge. When guests aren’t visiting, we usually move it to the main floor guestroom so it’s not taking up so much room…but currently, Mr. Squirrel and I are far too exhausted to wrestle it into the next room.
2. Anonymous asked, in reference to the same post just mentioned, if I used anti-depressants before conceiving the Jo, and if so, how difficult was it to wean. Yes, I did use Celexa before getting pregnant, and I’d been on the same dosage for a couple of years… a pretty low maintenance level. A few months before we started trying, I decided to wean because taking the pills became more of a routine, and I wasn’t sure they were necessary. I’d been level and fine for quite a long stretch. I was right. Thankfully. Weaning went just fine, and I don’t think I suffered from depression during my pregnancy. Sure, I had my moody moments, but for the most part, pregnancy agreed with me– even my allergies disappeared. But then. Then. Post-partum. Wow. That sucked huge ass, and it took me far too long to get back on the meds.
And now? Well, the weaning didn’t go so well this time around, so I’m back to my full strength and baby #2 has been shelved until I can better cope. This obviously accounts for my current state of bummertude. So what am I doing? I’m seeking a second opinion, trying to get outside in the sunlight more, exercising more and eating better. This last factor — the eating better — is long overdue, and since my decision to seriously change my diet (no more doughnuts. You heard it hear.), I’ve been very good; I guess it took something incredibly important to me, like another child, to get me to finally stop stuffing my face with crap. I’m going to eat better, exercise more frequently, talk to a psychiatrist and hopefully, in a couple more months, attempt to wean again so we can get to humpin. I mean, so we can bring forth a child.
3. Isabel asked if pink eye is ghetto…and clearly, from the comments from other fine, infected friends, the answer is Hell to the No, Isabel, pink eye is not ghetto. You WISHED your eyes were crusty and oozing. YOU WISH. Ahem.
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Ok, you know how I did the celebrity look-a-like thang? Well, I uploaded a picture of Jojo and theeeeeeee scariest larriest ugly man popped up as his match. Screaming may have ensued. Possible vomiting. So, if you do get matched with someone creepster, just try a different picture and blame the program. After the horror that matched with my sweet and cherubic Jojo, Mr. Squirrel and I uploaded a picture of him…and this was one of his top matches (Yes, Mr. Squirrel is younger than me, but not THAT much younger):
Zac Hansen. The littlest Hansen. My husband. Zac Hansen.
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
1:01 pm |
-image-Why do I do these things?
First Three Thoughts:
1. HA! I don’t look anything like her…which is really too bad for me.
2. Kill me now. I loathe Martina Hingis.
3. I have GOT to work on reducing that double chin. Seriously, I’m surprised Louie Anderson didn’t pop up.
and
3a. Who the f is Lacey Turner?
And now discuss topic: Renee Zellwegger? Me? See the resemblence? Jojo’s babysitter repeatedly tells me I look JUST LIKE Renee in Jerry Maguire. Yeah, I didn’t think so either.
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
2:06 pm |
-image-The wood was knocked
but the funk still came.
Jojo has pink eye.
We are sure to follow shortly.
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Edited to add: dudes. Pink eye doesn’t dink around. I have it. I hope to Tivo we have some Sesame Streets on tap for tomorrow.
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
8:19 pm |
-image-Don’t Make Me Come Over There
and kick your ass!
Doesn’t Jojo look like a teenager-in-training? Frightening. He’s OWNING these streets with his knit cap, army green coat and takin’ it to the man expression. Even his mother shivers.
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Also, I just shook someone’s hand who immediately followed “nice to meet you” with “I was just at the Health Center for pink eye.” Needless to say, my hands shot down to my sides and after a brief conversation, I waited for him to exit the hallway and beat feet to the bathroom where my hands were scrubbed raw.
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
9:18 pm |
-image-Lookee here
Dudes. I love this kid:
I seriously may have written the longest post in the history of blogkind on brussel sprouts over at my other blog. It’s riveting stuff, go see for yourself.
I promise I will blog again here very soon, but sitting here next to the monitor, listening to Jojo’s frequent mid-REM cries, I realize I’m in for a long, long night. And I bid you adieu. For now. And please, while I do so, knock on some wood for me, because I think he may be getting sick again. Snotty nose and post nasal drip BE GONE!!!!
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
8:09 pm |
-image-Deep Thoughts Friday
Thank you for your patience and kind thoughts.
I was awakened mid-nap with this very important Deep Thought…yet another indicator of How Long I Could Remain Civil To You Before I Go Off on Your Oddities Should We Meet in Public:
When you want to communicate a “3″ with your hand, do you hold up your three middle fingers OR make like an “ok” and present your pinkie, ring & middle finger OR (thanks TxMom) use the official ASL sign for three (thumb, pointer & middle)?
I tried to find some online pictures to further help differentiate these two signs. Instead I found a frightening site created by some anti-satanist (is that a word?) who found the “devil sign” being made by such obvious satanists like Jason Alexander and Meryl Streep. I’m not linking to that site because it’s whack and full of hate. But really? Meryl a satanist. I just don’t think so.
I’ll try to be back soon! Happy weekend. And thanks again.
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
1:48 pm |
