Archive for May, 2007
-image-Tagged, I’m it!
Velocibadgergirl tagged me for a meme. Here are the rules: Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves. Write a post about your own random things. Post these rules. At the end of your blog, tag 8 people and post their names. Don’t forget to leave them a comment and tell them they’re tagged.
I’ll play along and tell you some stuff that’s currently going on. I think this is what some people call ‘killing two stones with one hand’ or whatever.
8 Random Facts/Habits about Moi, Mrs. Squirrel
1. I don’t, in fact, speak French. I tried. One of my favorite babysitters attempted to teach me French when I was like 10, but I was a spazoid and unable to concentrate. I’m pretty sure I may have driven her crazy. I just remember running around the ping-pong table while she tried to get me to look at the labeled picture of a french apartment. I can, however, speak some Spanish. And English. And a tisch of Dutch and German. I can also sing “Jingle Bells” in Latin (useful!) and say “good morning” and “thank you” in Japanese; which I then always mixed up, so I’d get weird looks from cashiers when I’d come into their stores and say “Thank you!!” and after receiving my change, I’d tell them “good morning!” Dude, I’m like the US AmbASSador of Idiocy.
2. I have this annoying hair-stroking habit. I know this. And I’m sorry. I didn’t realize just how stupid I look doing it until I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw my friend mocking me in her car. I was all “shit. She looks like an idiot. Ergo, I am an idiot.” Ok, I may not have said those exact words, but I vowed to stop. That was over a decade ago, and I’m still going strong. It’s a self-soothing habit; I do it when I’m tired or stressed. I also bite my nails and rub my jagged thumbnail across my lips. I’m a freak. Still wanna be my friend?
3. I walk funny. That’s subjective, I realize that. And, I’ve walked funny for let’s see now, 2 days. See, I made the mistake of taking my neighbor’s suggestion and “go jogging!” while she and her kids watched Jojo. I definitely needed the exercise, but then there was the whole thunder and lightning storm that occured at about the time when I got a mile from my house. So I RAN people. I ran like an out of shape girl wearing a metal watch and carrying metal keys runs with a lightning bolt drummin’ up her butt…who’s also wearing a white tank top over a white sports bra. I ran for my Liiiiieeeeefffeeee. So while I was flashing the metal watch and keys (and some wet boobage), and the lightning was striking, I considered if every time the thunder rumbled, would it be safer for me to toss the watch and keys then pick them up after the lightning strikes or chance being burned up like a Hot Pocket in the work microwave and just get home asap. So I just beat feet, made it home, took a quick shower, then headed over to get Jojo from the clutches of the neighbor kids where…
4. Guinea pig pee sprayed my face. Not cool. See, our neighbors own 2 guinea pigs who they allow to play/poop/pee on blankets. (Judging? Perhaps.) Then their son decided to flick the blanket up in the air, creating a veritable mist o’ urine. New moisturizer? No! Did I self tan? I don’t think so. I’ll let you in on my dewy complexion secret: guinea pig urine. Send NOW for a free sample!
5. I’ve made two new (awesome) friends in the past couple of weeks. Women who have kids, their own interests and fabulous senses of style AND humor. Two people in my own neighborhood. I’m thrilled. One of them owns a fancy schmancy hip parenting website and hilarious blog. The other doesn’t, so I can’t link to her. But knowing how difficult it is to make friends during adulthood, I feel like I hit the jackpot. No scratching necessary!
6. I’m meeting this rockstar for lunch today. Just a tad nervous. I’m sure to spill (more) shit all over these frigging stupid ass peg-leg khakis I stupidly wore today (because they didn’t need ironing and they fitish). With low-heeled black shoes. I look like an assclown. She’s going to h.a.t.e. me to the fifth power. UPDATED TO ADD: Heather rocks. We met for lunch and as far as I know, I didn’t embarrass myself too badly (pat on back). Of course, I forgot the camera. You’ll just have to believe me that she glows with goodness and smarts & was sporting the most adorable cardigan.
7. I have a favorite math book series:
The blue & red Algebra 2 book, not pictured above, resides in our living room. I’m not sure if the book was borrowed or if I just loved it so much that I outright bought it, but I made sure my mom didn’t toss it from the childhood bedroom she so desperately wants me to clean out. So she brought it for me the last time she visited. I love it. I think I loved the Algebra I book (from my freshman year) best, although the light blue and dark blue Algebra 1/2 book is nothing to snark at either. I wonder if they do discounts. The *best* part? The answers to all of the odd questions are located in the back of the book so you can see if you’re on the right track! Woot!
8. Even though I enjoy being tagged for memes (hey, free random fodder), I always feel guilty for tagging others, so I’m NOT going to tag 8 people for this. Just pretend I did if you want to play along and please let me know when/if you do. Is it bad to do a meme if you haven’t been specifically tagged, because there was a ‘books read’ meme or something like that which I thought was interesting, but then I sat on my thumbs and didn’t play along.
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
10:13 am |
-image-tttttTuesday
WELL Hello there fine friends & visitors from states near & far,
My name is Mrs. Squirrel, and today is Tuesday. What does that mean for YOU? Well, that means I may post about something random and bitter, fail at anything creative and just post a picture of my son OR I may address my irregular Tuesday theme– Grateful Tuesdays where I list off 5 things I’m grateful for.
Considering my awareness of said weekday and am blogging sans bitterness at the moment, I’m going to seize it (the moment, that is) and list FIVE THINGS I’M CURRENTLY GRATEFUL FOR starting NOW go:
1. Room Darkening Blinds. What the Sam Hell were we waiting for here? After MONTHS and MONTHS of getting up at the crackage of dawn with Jojo, I finally took foil into my own hands and lined one of his bedroom windows with a-lu-MIN-ee-um (say it British style…jolly good!) foil. That, my dears, is desperate and classy! The other window? Covered in a ginormous fleece blanket made by my friend, Smitty. Thanks Smitty for the curtains/blanket! But seriously. It was looking rather stinky-dorm-room chic, so we ventured to The Place That Ate Our Money B.J. (before Jojo), Home Depot. And Sweet Sallie Mae consolidating loans did he just sleep in until SEVEN in the A.M.?!?! YES! Who woulda thunk I’d be jazzed for that? But yes, we slept a full 45 minutes later than usual and had time to make AND drink coffee before the wee one stirred. Please, join me in knocking one wood or simulated wood grain. And thank you.
2. That my office is included in the “everyone gets a printer/fax/scanner in their own office.” (Or as O would bellow: EVERY. BODY. GETS. A. PRINTER — slash FAX slash SCANNER!!!”) Even though I’ll have to move my leaning tower of unfile-ables (aka my in-box, aka Procrastination Station) and this bad boy could generate some serious unwanted heat in the hott months, I’m THRILLED to be able to print IN my office– no more running across the hall to press the “manual select override” button because somehow I fuzzed up my printer settings so that I have to do just that each and every time I print a Word document. No more running INTO the door that hasn’t been unlocked yet in the a.m. a la American Idol wanna-bes. No more waiting for my ridiculous coworkers to finish printing off their “wives” 74 pages of Weight Watchers food/point system. Oh wait, he got fired. Nevermind. BUT STILL. Sweet. I’m grateful that my part-timedness didn’t factor into me not getting one.
3. Sharing. Wha? No, not Jojo. Come on, people, let’s be real. This nice woman I met at a Craft Night (I know. That’s a WHOLE ‘NOTHER STORY to come) was rightfully bragging about her awesome babysitter– a 10th grade boy who has four younger brothers. Casually, I mentioned how I’d love his name. I don’t do many things subtly or casually, but I really wanted his name. The one babysitter we “had” and by “had” I mean “used once and then she up and moved to North Carolina.” Not because of Jojo, or so she claimed. Anyway… this nice woman happily gave me A’s number, and I called him the day after. He called back after school and charmed me with his good manners and willingness to babysit ON SATURDAY! OMG I was giddy. And slightly dizzy. Mr. Squirrel looked at me quizically (sp? you know what I mean) when I was chatting A up on the phone and giving him directions (his mom was going to drop him off!), and I surprised Mr. Squirrel with news of our Hott Date. We dined at a lovely local eatery (one of the very few), and I may have consumed the spiciest Bloody Mary this side of the Mighty Miss. HOT DAMN that thing burned my throat, but I cooled it with a Bailey’s. And perhaps a Blood Orange margarita. Maybe. I’m just sayin’. After a truly delicious dinner (escargot! mussels! mahi mahi! I forgot what I had so oops!), we rockstars headed over to the (music dying down to a thud…) grocery store where we picked up some groceries ok because we are so damn lame. And then this dude totally farted in the toothpaste aisle, and I couldn’t stop laughing, and Mr. Squirrel tried not to dry heave while picking out some flouride rinse (he’s got premature e-rottenation on his teeth, yo). Two aisles later, I queried to my dear “can you BELIEVE the dude ripped two in the aisle?” Mr. Squirrel: “yeah right. Good try.” SERIOUSLY, he thought it was me. I was offended. And then he explained with some valid inductive reasoning why it could have been me. Oh well. That SO wasn’t me. It was the nasty dude in the nasty flipflops. ACK. And this concludes why I’m grateful to this nice craft lady for sharing her awesome babysitter, who, I have barely mentioned but real quick: he played and entertained Jojo; he put him to bed without incident; he read him stories; he organized and put away Jojo’s toys; and most importantly, he fanned out our magazines on the side table in the living room. No wait. Most importantly: he said he’d love to do it again and left a business card that he made in one of his business classes. TOO cute.
4. My parents are visiting yet again in a few weeks! I’m so excited for them to come visit. We only see them a handful of times a year what with the distance and gas or airline costs. Jojo loves them and completely lit up (no, not a cig) the last time they pulled into the driveway. Hopefully he will do the same after the drive in from a far greater distance, as my mom (who is RETIRED yet doesn’t apparently know the meaning of that word) is driving to South Carolina for a conference (from MI), then driving to Upstate NY with my father. My mom and dad shouldn’t be in a car together for more than, say, 15 minutes. So this should be interesting. We’ll see if they’re on speaking terms when they pull in the driveway, or if only one of them makes it. The other? No doubt in a ditch somewhere. I’ll try to pinpoint the state/road and let people know to keep their eyes peeled.
5. He wears the hat! Whenever I plop it on his head! I’m glad I kept at it (really, the whole Jojo rips the hat off/mommy puts the hat back on/Jojo rips the hat off/mommy puts the hat back on dance took less than a day):
And you…what are YOU grateful for today? Show me the gratitude:
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
12:34 pm |
-image-I’m going to just say it.
And you may disagree with me, then fine. Don’t invite me to your baby shower. Or bridal shower. And don’t expect me to throw you one.
Here goes:
1. You shouldn’t expect to be thrown a shower. This is an honor. Consider yourself lucky to have someone (or maybe more than one) in your life who wants to honor this special life event for you.
2. If you tell someone you want to throw a shower for them and you need help, financial or otherwise, then ask early on in the planning process for help from close friends or family, even though I think family stays out of planning for the most part (at least they do where I’m from). In any event, do not email people a few weeks before the event asking if they can help, not giving any concrete plans, and then send out another email with a huge ass Excel spreadsheet documenting everything that needs to be bought or brought and only sign yourself (the person who VOLUNTEERED to host) for something minor.
3. Re-read #2 because it’s long. Especially if you think I *might* be talking about you.
4. I mean, for fuck’s sake, you’ve already asked everyone attending to bring a fucking dish to pass.
5. I know this, too, differs with different cultures and locations, but out here, I think it’s pretty tacky to invite your whole fucking work organization, men and women, because you want more presents. Which you do. It’s obvious. And exceedingly tacky, especially when I know your tax bracket, and you’re not in need.
6. Don’t expect me to buy from your registry when you so clearly shopped from the bargain rack for mine. I visited Babies R Us like 2 times a week while I was pregnant, so I know those ugly onesies and outfits were on the sale rack. That rack is still there. I’m just saying.
7. One of the many things for your “friends” to help out with on the Excel Spreadsheet is “getting thank you notes and envelopes.” So we’re suppose to buy them for you and…
8. “Make sure people write their names and addresses on the envelopes.” Oh heeeeeeeeeeeellll no. no. no. no. No. I refuse. Not doing it.
Is it too late to un-RSVP?
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
1:30 pm |
-image-Snap!
Over at the other blog, I wrote about a First for me. My first speeding ticket. My first experience being pulled over at all.
Which has now turned into My First Experience With Being Completely and Utterly F’d because $220? $220?
Really? For going 45 in a 30? $220?
Well, I should explain:
$165 for the offense and $55 surcharge. What the f? A surcharge? A $55 surcharge?
Ticketmaster, take note. THAT’S how you royally screw someone.
The first person to say something like “bet that will stop you from speeding” or something to that effect will have a coconut shoved up their cornhole.
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
8:34 am |
-image-Happppppyyyyyyy Biiiiirtttthhhhhhdddaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
dear Isabel…
All the best to you for today and the coming year!
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
11:04 am |
-image-Hugs and Kisses on Mother’s Day!
Happy Mother’s Day to you (if applicable) and your moms.
My own mom just called me a “little shitzkee” when reminiscing about my toddlerhood.
My own toddler? Down for an early nap because he was being a … well, a little shitzee.
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
11:03 am |
-image-Revelations: Quadrant Style
What better on a Friday (other than TLF, of course) than a long overdue Quadrant REVEALED?!?!
Remember
this? OH I know. Way too long ago. I’m sorry.
So this one asked about two of your preferences:
Daytime Talk Show Hostesses
or 
?
These women need no introductions. For once, everyone KNEW who I was talking about. For those of you on the fence or completely unwilling to pick a side (because you detest all talk shows or whatever), I put you on the grid but on the line… you still made the Quadrant (whew…close call).
Admittedly, I’m quite surprised to see that only ONE person prefers Oprah over Ellen. There were much more extreme feelings against Oprah than in favor of her, and even the person who picked O over Ellen still sent Ellen some love. I really thought the divide would be more 50-50. Little did I know! I mean, hey, who wouldn’t want to be in the audience for her Greatest Things show? But otherwise? I cannot. CANNOT stand the BELLLLLOOOOOOWWWWWWWWING, the 14 minutes of actual programming, the genuflecting audience, the God complex… I just cannot. I know she does a TON of good for those in need, and she’s deservedly successful and accomplished. I just don’t care for her program anymore.
Ellen, on the other hand, makes me break out in laughter at every show…ok, so I haven’t seen her show in like a year now, but when I did, she always leaves me in a lighter, happier mood. Apparently most of you agree with me and are in the upper sections of said Quadrant graphola with Mama Squirrel! WOOT!
and
Supposedly Funny Videos
Shoes
or
Lazy Sunday, the Chronicles of Narnia.
Shortly after I posted the Quadrant questions, the chicas over at MamaPop posted about it. One of the more popular bloggers of the day even said in the comments, “You know I now use this video as a test for everyone I know, right? As in: YOU MUST FIND THIS INSANELY FUNNY, OR WE CAN NEVER BE FRIENDS.”
I have to admit, as much as I love this blogger’s writing, I think I’d rather forgo any future friendship with her than have to sit through that video again. I don’t know. I can’t do it. Narnia is SO much more my style (thank you, smart and funny ladies on the east siiieeeede of the quadrant for agreeing!).
Others who prefer “Shoes” will be tolerated here at Hollow Squirrel. We can still be friends. Just please don’t start singing/imitating that stupid ass clip in front of me, or I may have to cut you with one of Jojo’s toenails.
=====
AND to entice you readers to enter future HollowSquirrel contests, let me post a little peek at the total SCORE* that SJ was sent as Grand Prize Winner of the latest and greatest contest:
The dirty, matted face only a desperate and bored garage-saler could love.
Shit! I was hoping Angelina & Brad would see me first!
*HollowSquirrel not responsible for flea infestations or other dermatological/asthmatic problems resulting from said dirty, matted stuffed rectangular carnival prizes of yesteryear.
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
12:35 pm |
-image-How come I’m the last to know??
I saw this first over at this blog (which I heart and THANK TIM DALYNESS that she’s back blogging!), but TRULY you have to see this. Seriously.
Go here. Now. Because hello? You, too, could get your man a tux at Target.
Discuss.
But first. This is a no-no on several levels. You’re welcome.
=====
If by chance I make it through today without developing what can only be described as a Sweat Mullet (neck sweat + long hair = dry in front and soggy in the back), I will be happy.
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
8:46 am |
-image-Last Week’s Grey’s Anatomy or…
How Addison is turning into Ally McBeal…what with all of the knocked kneed stumbling, bumbling and pouty lip “oh my goodness how did this happen to me?” bullshit. And the talking elevator. I hope that joke has been shelved, because it was a little too “dancing baby” for my liking.
I loved Ally McBeal in the beginning. Loved it. Then she went all Trippy McFallsALot and started acting stupid, and I had to let them all go– the Biscuit, her boss, the co-ed bathroom. All of it. Flushed it manually, not even with the Biscuit’s remote flusher.
The same fate afflicted Teri Hatcher’s character, Susan, on Desperate Housewives. I can barely tolerate the show anymore because she’s so damn helpless, clueless and annoying. Like now. I’m watching last week’s show now, and she, of course, acts like a (truly dumb) naive pre-teen instead of the adult she should be. Needless to say, she’s “in over her head” hiking up to find Mike (again), delcaring her love for him (again) and falling/getting her hair stuck in a tree/look like a helpless fool yet again. Woes Susan! Why don’t these characters just all wear their hair in a side ponytail a la Chrissy to make it even more obvious that she’s suppose to be a dumb girl. (FYI: What is with Jack’s socks & Janet’s mania?)
Oh Addison… I’ll admit– I didn’t like your severe character when you first arrived at Seattle Grace, but I’ve grown to love your character. I don’t mind if you get your own show– in my opinion, better you than anyone else. And HELLO Tim Daly. Welcome back, hottie. DAMN why don’t you have your own show. I see it now: small airport on a resort island, you could be a pilot, have a brother, (ex) girlfriend, crazy taxi cab driver, and two coworkers: one dumb as a box of rocks and the other snarky! I see it now! Oh wait… but hey– you’re hot. BRING IT. But back to Addison (who got to kiss Tim Daly. gulp.)… stand up straight. Quit the pouting. And act like a professional AND an adult. My GOD, women characters on tv.
The bumbling, helpless girl thing pisses me off.
Don’t. Piss. Off. Mrs. Squirrel.
Don’t MAKE me email ABC.
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
12:09 pm |
-image-And he hates to run.
Last week, I left the orange binky at daycare, which meant the number of binkies/pacifiers/Nuks we were down to here at Casa de Squirrel was 2. It’s been about 42 minutes since we realized the blue binky is also missing.
That leaves one. One binky. One old, white, rubber binky (not the nice silicone ones) that Jojo seeks solace in ONLY when the others have fallen out of the crib.
Jojo, not quite going cold turkey– he doesn’t realize how ugly it could really BE. No! Instead of taking comfort in the completely useful yet not quite as stylish white binky, he’s been howling since 7:28.
Wait– nope. Nevermind. I thought he fell asleep. The poor kid is PISSED. We tried to explain that we couldn’t find the blue binky, even retracing our steps like 3 times now. Somewhere between dinner and bedtime, a mere 40 minutes, the binky went missing.
We’ve searched high and low, and apparently every last place save one.
What at first my husband deemed to be “a good enough time to break him of the binky” has now turned to a debate about what time CVS closes. So in a few minutes, Mr. Squirrel will return from his dash to CVS with a couple of replacement binkies. Binkies that we shouldn’t buy to replace the binkies who have left this world after long, productive lives of providing comfort to our little one.
And…he’s asleep, like 2 minutes before Mr. Squirrel returned. We washed the binkies, and I went upstairs to put one in his little paw. Except that I placed it in his foot. Cuz Im gud mommee.
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
8:43 pm |
