Craaaaaaaaap.

I had to pay $49.95 to get a warantee good for phone support for two weeks on the laptop that I knew had to be looked at by an actual person since the hard drive wasn't firing up (I wish the phone support guy could go off script for TWO SECONDS and listen to me vs. saying "your display is bad, please back up your hard drive..." Um, guy, I would if it weren't for the fact that more is wrong than just the display).

Long story longer, posting will be sparse over the next week or two. The up side is that my house might actually get organized between now and then. Either that or I will watch my weight in TiVo.

Also, It was snowing when we landed in Madison today (returning from trip to see family in SC--more on that later). See above.

An Open Letter to a Lazy Ass Contractor

Dear house renovation guy,

When you came to take a look at our place to give us a bid on how much the various insulation projects around the house would cost, you were a consummate professional: knew your stuff, didn't talk down to me just because I have a vagina, and we even connected on a have-lived-everywhere level. I dropped the hint that we had bigger renos in our future with the idea that if this project went well, there could be more $$ down the road.

But that was three weeks ago. THREE WEEKS and it's only getting colder here in Southern Canada and I would really like to have these projects at least STARTED before the snow falls.

When I called you last week (Wednesday? Thursday maybe?), you said that you were in the office and hoped to get the quote to me that day. I said that I'd look forward to reading it by the end of the week (wanted to give you a little cushion) and that was the last I heard from you.

Now, I know that I'm not your #1 priority, but it would at least be nice to get the sense that I'm at least in the queue for services. I mean, I thought that with the housing market (and really, the whole flipping economy) in the tank, all you guys were scrambling for work? No?

I'm starting to have the feeling I would get back in my dating days (aka The Dark Ages) when I would call a guy and he'd be all "yeah, we should do something, I'll call you when I know my schedule" and then he wouldn't call and I'd be all "BITCHCAKES!" and would curse the phone and eventually go out with my friends and get pissed at a local bar and then run into the guy as I was coming out of the mens' room (the ladies' was occupado, of course) and then have this totally awkward conversation since I had seen him flirting with a half dozen blondes earlier and had written something nasty about him on the chalkboard over the toilet.

So, I'm going to do as Jody has said and vote with my feet and if you do come crawling back, I will expect some courtesy discount for my trouble (10% should just about do it).

Sincerely,
Crankymouth

In Other News...

...Violet had her first ever dental appointment and barfed twice today (unrelated...I think...), once after the first nap and once while in the grocery checkout line.

Hopefully she'll do better keeping things down tomorrow.

Be Careful What You Wish For

It comes as no surprise to those of you who've known me for more than five minutes that I'm spending more time on the throne these days, which means I've been able to catch up on those teetering towers of magazines that have piled up over the last few months.

In the past week I have read not one but two stories in Self about women who were suffering from either a mysterious disease or a known disease that had gone undiagnosed for several years (Morgellons and Lyme disease, respectively).

Both of these women were quoted as saying something to the effect of "I wish I had cancer, then people would believe me/we would know what is wrong with me/etc."

These crazy bitches have obviously never had cancer or known anyone with cancer. I would gladly explain to them at great length and great volume how fucking nuts they are for having said this.

Chemo Brain Blame Game

While at Whole Foods yesterday, I ran into a woman who looked vaguely familiar, and then once she saw me, looked at me with a face of recognition. Uh-oh.

I put on my friendly face, making small talk, all the while trying for the life of me to place this person, which really shouldn't have been hard considering how short the list is of people I know in town.

She tells me she's recently [re-]married and says I'm looking good (Does she know about my "condition?" How much?) and asks about Violet and I am mentally scrambling as I rack my brain to try to place this person and then before I know it we're parting ways and I'm still as clueless as I was before.

It was somewhere between the dairy section and the cereal aisle that I realized that the woman was the professor of the class that I abruptly dropped out of after getting diagnosed.

I eventually caught up to her and apologized for not filling her in on how I'm doing and let her know that I'm done with treatment and while I partly filled her in because I imagine she was curious I also wanted to make sure she knew that I wasn't making up a reason to bail from her class, which was almost as difficult as it was dull.

Whole Paycheck Responds to the Economic Downturn

Love Whole Foods? Hate how spendy it is? I've got great news that comes in the form of a printable coupon!

Take $5 off of a $25 purchase, expires 10/22.

Organic milk just got a smidge cheaper.

Trials and Tribulations of a Semi-Urban Homeowner

How hard is it to find an outdoor wall sconce with a motion detector that isn't totally fug?

Mommy Nerdism of the Day

If loving Murray and Ovejita is wrong totally lame, I don't want to be right cool.

Happy Birthday, Matty Matt Matt!!

Thanks for getting born when you did so Karen and I could fly down to Monterey to celebrate with you nine years ago and I could initially dislike, get drunk with, and smooch on the man who would one day become my husband!

Love you, MMM!

PS: Your wife ain't bad, either! xo!

Catching Up

I'm way overdue for a recap of our week back east (and I know the longer I put it off, the less likely I am to actually do it), but that's going to take more time than I have this second, so let me give you the wee-cap:

1. Violet was a-MAZ-ing on both the flights out and back. Seriously. I've said it before and I'll say it again: we SO won the baby lottery.
   
2. They both said "I do."
   
3. My friends rule.
   
4. So does my family.

I Swear This Blog Isn't Going to Turn into MCD II, Electric Boogaloo

When I saw this on this week's Post Secret, I not so secretly wished that it was submitted by someone I know.

Fancy!

Matty and Amanda got married!!!

I'll Give You My Endoscope When You Pry It From My...

...well, you know the rest.

Study Concludes Colon Cancer Screenings Can Stop at 75.

Yeah, no offense or anything, but I think I'll stick to getting a scope every year or two from here on out.

Let me just highlight the following:

Colon cancer is the country's second leading cancer killer. Nearly 50,000 Americans are expected to die of colorectal cancer this year.

As I've said in the past, if your doody is red, get your pooper inspected!!

Travelin' Toddlers

Calling all parents! We are going to be taking our first trip via air with Vi this week. Rather than save a few bucks, we decided to bite the bullet and get her her own seat because while a 6 month old does well in a lap, a 15 month old does not. Not my mine, anyhow (referring to both baby and lap).

Please leave any and all insider tips you may have picked up along the way in the comments--thx!

Weekend Update: Go Pack Go!

Saturday was spent watching college football (Woo Irish! Hooray Navy!) and Sunday was spent watching pro. Live. At Lambeau.

That's right, Jody, Vi and I made the pilgrimage to Green Bay at a relatively early hour yesterday to meet up with ND friend, fellow Cheeseconsinite, and once-upon-a-chegger Anne Marie, who not only hooked us up with tickets to the game against the Falcons but also took care of Vi while we were at the game!

Other than the distance covered (~2.5h with a touch of stop and go on the way in and out), it was the world's easiest process: Anne Marie gave us fantastic secret squirrel route directions, guided us to a residential neighborhood right on top of the stadium where the home owners were letting folks park on their lawns (and use their WCs, apparently).

We were able to find a house very close to the stadium (critical for just-in-case considering my "condition") that put us in a slot that was easy to get out of on the other end (without having to drive over the curb) and strolled on in.

The seats were fantastic--about half way up in the end zone with great neighbors all around--and I was pleasantly surprised with the quality of the stadium's pizza (DiGiorno, FWIW) since keeping veg in the home of the [meat] Packers is no small feat.

We only stayed until the end of the third quarter (of course that's the time they decided to rally)--partly to beat traffic, partly to relieve Anne Marie of her duties, and partly because my lower back isn't cut out for bleacher sitting these days-and make a hasty get away after retrieving our spawn and taking the back way to the high way past these ridiculously large new construction houses along the Fox River.

We were pretty pooped at the end of it all (picked up a pumpkin spice latte @ *$ on the way ome--I lurve fall), but it was great to be home by dinner time and have a few hours to power down before hitting the rack for the night.

Thank you, Anne Marie (and AM's folks)! We really had a terrific time and so apreciate your generosity. If there's ever the chance for us to repay your hospitality, please let us know!

In other news, I think I just knocked down my argument for getting a Dyson a bit as I just vacuumed all the nooks & crannies--high & low--in the basement. Those spiders were getting way too big for my taste.

Mayor of Squaresville

I had a bunch of business (or should I say "business") cards made up with the intention of being more social when it comes to connecting with other moms at playgroups and co-op daycare and other stuff that I'm hoping to engage in but as yet haven't really. GAWD, I'm such a loser suburban cliché.

I was actually about to post a picture of them (the cards, not the moms) when I realized that I would pretty much have to black out all of the info. I'm not that bright, but take my word for it that the cards are cute.

In other news, Violet can identify bubbles in books and real life (even tho her word for "bubble" and "bottle" sound pretty interchangeable) but has yet to start to referring to me as mama. :::sigh:::

I Got the Angina

OMG if I live to see the end of election season it will be a miracle.

Sweetmerciful crap, Palin makes my head hurt.