Archive for August, 2007
-image-Sell Out
My first paying “review” gig is DONE. Nothing like reading assignments, deadlines and expectations of coherent paragraphs to make me realize: that’s my last paying gig. GOD. Thankfully, the book was more enjoyable that I first thought it would be. Even if it was targeted at teenagers and didn’t include any Weasleys.
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Also: GUESS WHAT HAPPENS when an office which formerly housed one employee with one computer suddenly houses FOUR employees and FOUR computers? Just guess. Oh yes, power blow. And that happened after just ONE other employee turned on their computer. We’re poppin’ the breakers or whatever that terminology is and twiddlin’ our thumbs. Well, obviously, the power is back on now, but I’ve had to restart my computer three times today, losing a bit of work each time.
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And another thing…seriously, what’s with the deoderant failure? I think it’s got something to do with pregnancy. I don’t recall this side effect last round, but no matter what kind I use or how much I lather on, something funky is afoot (or a-armpit). Won’t you be my friend?
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Last but CERTAINLY NOT LEAST and even more certainly smelling of fresh flowers & the fragrant mane of a virgin unicorn… Happy Birthday to Ice Cream Mama! Go on over & wish this fabulous woman all the best for today and the coming year! All the best to you! YAY!
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
3:02 pm |
-image-I think we got ding-dong ditch-um’d
Our doorbell rang at 6:28am. I’m all about the early playdates, but both doors were desserted. Did we get “had?” At least I didn’t have to stamp out a flaming pile of dog shit.
Yesterday, the doorbell rang twice while Jojo and I entertained a playdate. And by “entertained” I mean I spent the entire time trying to contain Jojo’s penchant for wrestling the little girl and throwing toys everywhere. I think I must have apologized a bajillion times.
Anyhoo…the doorbell… it was some neighbor girls offering to sell us some Kool-Aid and deliver it to the door — all for the low, low price of $.25 per cup. SOLD! Gotta support women in business. We poured out the blue sugar water before our kids started whining about it, because seriously, yuck.
Not 10 minutes later, the doorbell rang again — numerous times. It was our neighbor’s son & his LOUD friend this time, again, trying to sell us Kool-Aid.
Just who’s in charge of sales regions around here?
The boys were disappointed that we already bought some cups, but I got them off our doorstep. I’ve become much better as of late at saying ‘no’ and meaning it. That and saying “take me off your call list, please” to the ever-expanding network of local charities which pass my phone number along like crabs at a whorehouse.
Don’t get me wrong– we give to charity early & often; I’d prefer, however, to give $50 to a really well-run charity whose mission I know & fully support rather than $10 to five random charities.
Back to my neighbor boy, though… lately I’ve had to discipline him while he’s in my yard, or in my garage. We have a detached garage that’s in our backyard, and the other day, this 8 year old came over to talk/play with Jojo when he decided it would be cool to build a wooden ramp for Jojo’s truck.
He asked me if we had any plywood to build a ramp. It was close to dinner, so my wick was already worn short. I told him, ‘no,’ and then watched as he walked into my garage to have a look for himself. I was all “oh no you did.int.” I followed him in, just as he pulled out a large piece of wood (not plywood– I mean, I wouldn’t lie to the boy…ok, I would) and said to me “we can use this!” I’m not sure where my tone came from — someplace deep and serious, but as soon as “we’re not doing this” came out of my mouth, his head flopped down in obedience, and he left the garage without the wood.
Neighbors! Get your kids out of my GARAGE. You know?
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This one’s for Nicole…do I still have to go stand in the corner?
Me likey the bikini clad ladies!!! And eating dirt!!
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
11:47 am |
-image-Another Blogger Birthday…
Happy Birthday dear Jackie– I met newbie blogger Jackie at BlogHer– she started her blog like a week or two BEFORE BlogHer! Her enthusiasm for blogging and general positivity brightened my pregnancy-induced nauseated state while in Chicago. Check her out, especially this hilarious post, and let her know that she’s been telling herself to go fuck herself for many, many years. No really, Frema and I know what we’re talking about here. Also, since she’ll be succumbing to the inevitable shame spiral as a result of her poll, please wish her a squirrelfabulous BIRTHDAY!!!
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Also, I’m going to try and get Mr. Squirrel to buy a new refrigerator today. Remember my arch-enemy, our old dishwasher? Our refrigerator, while it doesn’t shock us with exposed wires or attempt to burn the house down, still drives me to daily obscenity-laced outbursts with its drawer stickiness, leaking freezer & general stankiness. YOUR DAYS ARE NUMBERED, MY BISQUE-COLORED STINK FACTORY!!!
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
9:08 am |
-image-When is THIS ever a good idea?
Dearest Husband,
Why would you pop in a children’s movie for Jojo at 7:10pm when he so clearly needs a bath & his bedtime, for the past oh let’s see 13 months has been 7:30? Do I say something? I don’t think you’d like what would come out of my mouth right now.
FOR THE LOVE,
The Parent Who Will Most Likely Wake Up with Grumpy Toddler Tomorrow
UPDATE:
7:40pm — What did you think Jojo would say when you asked “do you want to turn off the movie & go to bed?”
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
6:30 pm |
-image-Super Saturday Birthday Wishes
Happy Birthday, Rachel! Everyone here at HollowSquirrel wishes you the biggest and baddest birthday EVER! Have a blast with your family & friends (especially the well-deserved & anticipated night out with (gasp!) adults!)!
Please join me in wishing this exceedingly kind, honest & loyal blogger, Rachel, a fantastic day and year.
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
7:38 am |
-image-Deep Thoughts Friday — in letters
Dear Everyone,
Is there a doctor that specifically studies penises? I’m not googling this, but this question stumped me the other day when I was thinking of, well, doctors, of course. Perv. I mean, periodontists, proctologists, bellybuttonologists. Oh wait, maybe urologists? Do they focus on the male goods?
Perhaps I answered my own question,
Mrs. Squirrel
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Dear Angela,
You are not alone. We witnessed a voluntary trashbag wearing woman in the park exercising on Sunday. Unlike your fashionista, solely wearing one as a shirt, our stylish citizen sported trashbag pants as well. Even Mr. Squirrel noticed. Even Mr. Squirrel knew I had to find the camera and document this sight. Considering we were on bikes and she veered off the path generally taken (oh, how ironic), please let me assure all of you, this woman wore an entire outfit made of trashbags. Her running shoes looked clean and newish, and she had some sort of collared shirt beneath the hot plastic bagshirt. She also carried a stick in each hand, to beat off the fashion police? I don’t know, is this some weight loss accelerator? Seriously, she didn’t seem insane when we first passed her.
At a loss,
Stacy
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Dear Author of this book (which I’m not recommending, unless you enjoy frustratingly slow progress and pretty darn predicatable storylines),
I cannot believe I finished your book. With recent historical fiction keeping me up at nights and causing me to passionately push my finished, beloved copies on unsuspecting new friends, I completely folded to the old “totally judge a book by its cover.” Dude. SLOW. Speed it up. Although you pulled a slight twist at the end, the fact that you so blatantly left open the ending for a sequel, thereby FORCING ME to slug through another one of your books causes me great pains in my posterior region. I planned on leaving you 2/3 finished at my parents’ house, but Mr. Squirrel thought I’d left it aside accidentally and proudly packed it, expecting a big, gushing “THANK YOU!” Instead, it was like I opened the suitcase upon arriving home to find a ginormous, poisonous spider, ready to eat my face off (slowly, of course). FINE, I thought, I’ll finish this g.d. book. FINE. But then you had to go and so totally not CLOSE THE STORYLINE and force me to smack my noggin with your novel. BAH!!!!
Did I mention, BAH?!?!,
Stacy
p.s. The fact that you used the word “bunghole” (twice) in the final chapters did score you some major points. I, too, heart whispering to my beloved through the bunghole (ok fine. They were escaping Paris in winebarrels.)
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
9:11 pm |
-image-Seriously?
So I told you, I think, that I moved offices at work? That’s rhetorical, cuz I linked to it yo. I think that was a more passive aggressive question like “YOU DO READ MY BLOG, EVERY SINGLE FABULOUSLY INCOHERENT POST, RIGHT RIGHT RIGHT????” Anyhoo…
When I came in today, this older, gruff coworker of mine, who really is a sweetie, said, “Oh Stacy. There’s something in your office which may be offensive…and if it is, I’ll have it removed.”
My reply, “I find you offensive, but you’re still here.”
He laughed. So did I. Truly, he appears to be one of those crabby “old guys” who will bite your head off if you look at him the wrong way. Instead, I want to bear hug him and then give him a noogie. I haven’t yet done that. I’m not sure he’d enjoy it.
But what is this thing in my office possibly causing offense???
A huge ass copier. In the rapidly shrinking office which now contains:
4 mismatched desks
4 desk chairs
3 fugly bookcases
4 filing cabinets (1 a hideously reddish orange color with permanent marker graffiti on the side)
2 couches
2 chairs
1 side table being used as a coffee table
1 rolling cart
1 fugly brass floor lamp
4,489 (approx.) seriously outdated VHS tapes on various health-related topics
Copious amounts of other unorganized, stacked up shit
1 large red “leather” fold out display thingy about “Sexually Transmitted Diseases.” I don’t want to open it. Don’t make me!
Whoever stuck the copier in here blocked access to the closet and (now broken) bathroom. But I guess major drama occured yesterday surrounding said copier what with complaints about its previous location, relocation, major issues from ONE person about the new location, then finally spirited discussions about the ONE person who threw a fit. Sorry to have missed it, but thanks for recap! I do love me the office drama.
So what do I do with this thing? Just let it sit there? Sounds good to me.
On another sort-of office related note. My co-worker Dirk came in all worked up the other day about this awful plumbing experience he had at home. If the seeping sewage in his basement wasn’t enough to piss him off, the unethical, awful, stupid plumber definitely did the trick. As Plumby McAssHat filled out some paperwork and asked Dirk some questions, Dirk noticed that his name was spelled wrong on the sheet. Already on the verge of pummeling the guy, Dirk summoned patience and said “oh, and my name is Dirk, not Kirk.” Plumby McAssHat looked at him and said in his dickish tone, “You said your name was Kirk.” Um. No. No he didn’t. Poor patient Dirk. I mean, really? Do ya think he just forgot his own effing name????????
One more office-related story. Another male coworker (we only have three, so here goes on the last one) apparently has issues with women who dump at work. He gets all grossed out when someone poops, and if it’s a woman, oh sweet jesus, watch out. Dirk told me this, and thankfully, he tried to tell the other guy that yes, women poop. And yes, it stinks. Does his wife not poop at home? Does she only poop when he’s fast asleep? I don’t understand.
Needless to say, I have to utilize the facilities but I’m hesitant because I can hear the female poop-fearing coworker out in the lobby near the bathroom. Crap. Ha.
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Edited to add: um, I forgot how to change the toner catridges on my printer. I’m like completely perplexed. Just sitting here. Staring at this newish desk printer/scanner/copier (NOT the one on wheels, hogging up prime real estate over there near the closet & bathroom). FOR THE LIFE OF ME, I cannot remember how to open this puppy up. BAH! FOILED!!!!
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And completely UNRELATED to any of the above topics, especially those of an unsavory or inappropriate nature, it’s someone’s birthday today! Go on over and wish the exceedingly kind and lovely Mrs. CPA the happiest of 29th birthdays!
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
1:18 pm |
-image-A kiss from me to you
(Title inspired by the ginormous purple dinosaur that I’m desperately using to distract a certain toddler while I eat eggs and type a quick “thanks for all the excitement & encouragement” about Yet Named In Utero Child o’ Mine.)
How has this pregnancy been compared to Jojo? Uh, nauseating. I’m not throwing up– not the full deal here — but just queasy most days for the majority of the day. And, shockingly, I’m exhausted and crave being horizontal. That position doesn’t excite Jojo too much though, so he takes to climbing on top of my flabby/bloated belly and jumping up and down, which I’m sure is wonderful for the growing lifeform within. We like to play ‘fort’ on the guest bed, which involves fake napping, but that lasts for all of 2.5 seconds until we need to gather more trucks for their naps. What? This doesn’t make sense? Hi. Welcome to my life.
Speaking of naps, my good friend Liz’s birthday is today and all the poor woman wants for her birthday this year is a blessed nap. Her family, especially one of her grandmothers, unwittingly hellbent on NOT giving their sweet daughter/granddaughter her desired gift, keep interrupting her naps with phone calls and the dreaded drop-ins. Go on over and wish her a happy and slumberous birthday!
I thought I’d include a recent picture of Jojo with his friend, Flip, the little bundle I used to babysit for a half day a week (his mom & I would swap childcare). I still don’t know how I did that, but at least it gives me some sort of hope that I can handle two kids. At least for 5 hours once a week. Doesn’t Jojo look excited to go for a walk? Very deceiving that smile of his, for it took all of 3 blocks before he cried “all done” and proceeded to test the durability of those straps.
Momma is off to nap, and not a fake nap either. Thank you again for sharing your excitement with us in the comments section, and to the commenter (sorry, I’m too tired to go back and look because, hi, I’m playing the pregnancy card.) who reminded me that I owe you a Quadrant, don’t think I forgot. It’s hanging all monkey style on my back… can I just say how much I hate Windows Vista’s PowerPoint? Another story. But soon! A Quadrant!
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
11:50 am |
-image-What the J? — Circle of Life
Wow. For the most part, my posts have been pretty down lately…or well, non-existent. I have so many near-posts written in my thick skull, and they’re all about depression, suicide and other important but, well, depressing topics that I will address later. I also have other more fun topics that I’d like to address but will probably be backed up so that 3 months down the road, I’ll remind you of the time we went back to Michigan to visit family and post some awesome pictures of Jojo at various museums, zoos or playgrounds. Or tackling his cousin. Tackling girls is a new phase. And hitting mommy. Not to mention: pinching mommy’s neck. Ouch. LOVE these phases.
So. But. YES! Hi. Here’s a little something for you to nibble on, nay, CHEW UP and YUMMY YUM enjoy. Something I could have told ya’ll a couple weeks ago, but I didn’t know how best to package it. Here’s a pic for you to GET what I’m trying to say and hey, win something with my What the J(ojo)? contest– just caption this picture in the comments!!
(p.s. Oh yes, we are. March 14. More nauseated and t.i.r.e.d. than last time. THANKS we’re excited, too. And YES, that’s why I wasn’t drinking at BlogHer.)
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
6:53 pm |
-image-Winner, Winner, Rabbit Dinner
Ok FINALLY, I’ve gotten around to picking the winner of the latest What the J? Contest.
BEHOLD>>>>>>>>
I’ve got a bone to pick with you about my last Easter basket.
Yes! That’s right! It’s YOU, Wordgirl, YOU are the WINNER! No, I won’t be sending you a rabbit dinner, but one fabulous prize will be on its way to you, should you provide your home address!
Honorable Mentions:
1. Steph’s “You framed Roger Rabbit!” — Steph! That is like two runner-up in a row for you, my dear. I see victory in your future. Don’t give up!!
2. Lizarita’s “Puppeeeeeee! (said just like his mother)” — although, if you haven’t been around me, you might not think this is funny… I guess I didn’t really realize I call Jojo “Puppeeeeee,” but I do. Years of therapy ahead, I’m sure.
3. Dabney’s “Hey, bunny. Pull my finger.” Nothing like a good pull my finger joke. Who, may I ask, is this Dabney…and where is his/her blog? Dad, is it you?
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
9:52 am |
