When my husband is away...

Mike took Aly on a summer adventure - the second one since we returned from Jamaica, and this means I've been home alone and in charge of the house, and by extension, the dogs. Every time I move they jump up and follow me. I'm like the freakin' Pied Piper in my own house. Then there was the Kirby escape incident while I paid the pizza man. He's part whippet. Kirby, not the pizza man. That means he runs fast and far. But here's the latest.

I could not fall asleep. Part of it was the three Excedrin for my headache and part was excitement for my scrapbook trip with the girls Wednesday morning. I listened to white noise. I got a cold pack. I turned the tv off. I drank water. Then I had to pee. And for the first time EVER I peed in my bathroom in this house without turning the light on. No, I didn't miss the seat, but I tripped over the dog on the way to wash my hands. I could've cracked my head open, I told Charlie the border collie as he waited by the bed. But seriously, I dozed off finally around 1:30. And the dogs went bat shit crazy and woke me up soon after. I don't know why. Charlie acting like an axe murderer was in the house, and Scrappy yipping because he woke her up. I just yelled for them to shut up. Ugh.

More white noise. More water. So 2:00, finally asleep. Until 4:00. Charlie barked so loud I was in the living room before I was even awake. What is it boy? What's wrong?? And he brings me an effing hedgehog toy while Scrappy runs around him and yips. So I start to go back to bed, but realize Kirby isn't barking. Or running around. And I hear a whine.

I check to see if his fat butt is stuck under the bed. He likes the darkness under the bed, but Mike has been fattening him up so he can't run so far (not working, by the way), so his butt sticks out. No. The bathroom. I open the door and the stench of anxiety-crap hits me in the face. The trash is everywhere. Travel Yeti has been chewed (because I put my overnight bag in the bathroom to keep it away from the dogs). And there's a pile of crap in the middle of the floor. The carpeted part, not the tile.

So I clean up, thankful that it wasn't Charlie, because Yeti would be disemboweled and the cabinets would be chewed off. I head back to bed, and they're having a party. Reunited and it feels so good. It is like six tap dancing midgets in the living room. And they want to go out. Outside. At four in the morning. So I let them out. And in.

And then I get up at 6:00 and there's a pile of crap in the dining room.

This is why I need a vacation with the girls.

Pink can suck it

After spending time with my sisters cleaning out my mom's closets, we were all a mess. There was a pile of shirts, hats, scarves, and assorted crap with the damn pink ribbon on it. We determined there'd be a "pink can suck it" table at our next yard sale. What does pink do? Yes, local chapters say they provide mammograms for women. That can be lifesaving. In fact, some of Mom's medical bills were covered, after she died. But pink didn't find a cure. It hasn't in over 30 years with $2.5 billion. So what does it do? How can we NOT have a cure? How are there still hundreds of diseases with no cure, despite billions of dollars in donations and research? Why are we pouring this money into causes that make no discernible progress when people in other countries don't have simple antibiotics or clean water? When children in America go hungry at night? I don't know. And that sucks.

American and O'Hare and me - the Devil's Triangle

Remember when I swore I'd never fly American Airlines EVER AGAIN? Well, apparently I didn't.

My new job (still at the same firm, but a teaching position) requires me to travel every other week to Chicago*. We have a training center right at O'Hare. So I HAVE to fly to O'Hare and Delta doesn't go there direct. So, do I take a 50 min direct flight on American, or do I take four hours of my life to fly through Detroit (and that damn creepy tunnel)?

You know what I did. I booked my first two trips on American. Now at some point in the last couple of months, American tried to woo me away from Delta with Platinum status. Didn't work. But it is handy now that I have a flight. Priority boarding and free checked bags. w00t!

And here I am on trip number one. Canceled. In a 112 degree airport. With no power outlets. And a dead phone battery. And some really bad-fellow-traveler-behavior.

They told us at the departure time they'd have an update in 20 minutes on our mechanical issue. Then in 18 minutes, the board just changed to cancelled. Nice move, jerks.

I was really nice to a gate agent, so I got a hotel and $19 in food vouchers. I was also miraculously booked on the 9:40am flight, even though she told the kids in front of me everything was oversold until 4:50pm. I guess that's what Platinum status gets ya. Or not. The lady who just sat next to me was told since it was due to weather, they couldn't give her a hotel or food. Whaaaaaaaaa?

Now I'm waiting for them to pull my bag (when do I EVER check a bag? NEVER. Except this time. Gaah! It was free though), which will take an hour. Luckily, I packed an extra day of meds (seriously. If you've been following Facebook this week, you know I've been battling unusual migraines). I also have my Reeboks, which will be necessary since the hotel shuttle is a mile walk through this place. And pajama pants. I might just wear those tomorrow. On the plane.

Speaking of tomorrow. I have a web-based class at 11. Meaning, I'm TEACHING a web-based class at 11. I arrive at Evansville Regional at 10:45. Gonna be close.

American, O'Hare, and the Devil. Bastards.


*Yep, I said every OTHER week. I'll have day trips here and there, plus the occasional week in Orlando at Disney World (teehee) but mostly I'll be HOME EVERY OTHER WEEK Can I get a hallelujah?

New Rule Number One for Flying

One must keep their shoes on at all times.
Wouldn't you think that would be a federal regulation?
What if there is an emergency? We are all trying to exit but tripping over random shoes in the aisles. Or waiting for our aisle seat mate to get his shoes back on before we can exit.

You can guess where this is going, right?

Last year, I traveled exactly 100 flight segments on Delta, thanks to a last minute unneccessary re-route that gave me Platinum status. This means I get upgraded to first class occasionally, with all the stretch-yer-legs room you can imagine and free Bloody Marys (which I've learned to limit to no more than two).

Now there are certain things you see in coach you wouldn't expect in first class: booty shorts and tank tops, screaming children.... That is why they call it first class. In fact, the last time I rode in coach and bent over to retrieve my computer bag from under the seat in front of me, I got a face full of empty business-man shoes and smelly socks. Ack! But you can imagine my surprise, when, THIS happened.

I'm settled into my spacious seat against the window, reading my Nook Color and waiting to give my drink order. What? It's Sunday, I'm not working. In comes the seat-mate. Now there is a whole cast of characters who fly. But that is a whole 'nother post. Today, we are going to discuss ... goodness, I don't even know what to call her.

This lady ---- wait, she was no lady ---- this woman plops into the seat next to me, shoves her ginormous purse into the seatback pocket (whaaa?) and immediately removes her three inch heels, poking one each into the smaller pockets. Oh, maybe you've not seen first class before (tee hee).  Here's an image from Google....



So, into each of those two little pockets goes a strappy sandal. Now, I almost spoke to her at this point. I almost said, I admire a woman who ditches the big girl shoes ASAP, but I'm the "don't talk to me" seat partner and I didn't want to encourage a conversation. So, I kept my nose buried in my Nook (which is much harder than actually burying your nose in a paperback) and kept the corner of my eye on her.

And then, it got interesting.

See, she took her shoes off, not because they were uncomfy (though perhaps they were), but to give herself a foot massage. In first class. While everyone else was still boarding.

Sorry, forgot *** WARNING *** Graphic description follows. If you don't like feet, you better stop now. Oh, and be thankful I lost the phone upon which I photographed the following display. At the time, I attempted a Facebook upload, but it wouldn't go. I'm sure Facebook threw up a little in its mouth.

Actually this was not a foot massage. I enjoy foot massages. She played with her feet. Put her hands all over them. Between her toes. Oh. My. Maude. I thought I would die.

Then she got out the lotion. Yes. She lotioned up every square centimeter of both feet, including between the toes. Did I mention she was in a form-fitting dress that was a good five inches above the knee, and given that her form was that of a fireplug, it meant all those people coming down the aisle not only saw a woman rubbing lotion on her feet, but probably had the Sharon Stone view of such.

Finally, FINALLY!, the flight attendant took our drink orders. Definitely a Bloody Mary for me and a vodka/tonic for her. This is when she attempted conversation with me and I realized she had already started on the alcohol before she got on board. In case there was any question as to her state of mind, she proceeded to check out the boarding passengers and picked out a distinguished gentleman as he passed, "Excuse me, sir. I've only said this, like, three times in my whole life, but you are a very handsome man." Mr. Handsome was speechless and so very happy that he was passing the last row of first class and able to immediately duck past that little divider into coach. I yearned to join him.

By now the drinks had arrived (thank Maude) and Fireplug put down her iPhone long enough to take a swig. I kept wondering how she could swipe the screen with all that lotion still on her hands, but she managed. She also called a colleague relegated to coach (lucky bastard) and giggled how it was too bad they couldn't sit together. I couldn't hear his side of the conversation, but somehow I don't think he was too upset.

After another round of lotion :shudder: she pulled out the Skymall magazine and proceeded to read it like a Playboy. You know, tilting her head to the right and holding it vertically in her left hand. Now, I like Bigfoot a lot, but not THAT much. And I do solemnly swear, I'll never touch another Skymall again, having seen what they go through before I get there.

Finally, the door was closed and electronics were to be turned off. Suddenly, Fireplug needed to surf the web. Skymall had held her attention for at least five minutes, but now that iPhone had to be OFF, she needed it. So all through the taxi and the flight attendant announcement (during which the first class flight attendant walked by no fewer than 7 times), she is hiding her iPhone in the pages of Skymall and in and out of her purse so she can "just check one more thing." Finally, we are ready for takeoff and the flight attendant demands she turn the phone off and store it. She winks at me and tosses it in her purse. Still on. And just as we take off, it rings.

You'd think there would be nothing else to surprise me, but she did yet another round of lotion and then ate a bag of SunChips. :gag: She also spilled her drink on her linen dress and had to try to clean it up, first by squirming all over the seat with a stack of napkins and finally in the bathroom (which I'm so happy was beyond my view). The ultimate topper? She asked the flight attendant if he was twelve years old. Incredulous, he said, "Really, how old do you think I am?" and she replied, "Not a day over sixteen." How the man (who just had his 25th birthday last month) didn't know by now not to engage her, I don't know, so I really count that one as his own fault.

So, to recap our new rules:
1. Keep your shoes on;
2. Do not speak to a seatmate scrunched against the window with her nose in a book (or a Nook); and
3. The little bottles of lotion are for private use, not for a full on pedi in first class.

If you'd like to see the original rules of flight, I've captured them here. Or you can just click here to see all my travel rants -- er -- posts.

Somebody get a map. And a calculator.

I know it has been a while since I blogged. I have a bunch of stuff drafted that I haven't finished. But this you need to hear while it is fresh in my mind.

First off, someone go get a to-scale map of the Detroit airport (that is DTW). If you are reading this, you know how to Google. Go on.

I haven't had to travel for work in nearly six weeks. I had a marvelous two week vacation (some of those posts I haven't finished), but I left Tuesday for DC. Well, you have to know there's going to be a travel story now. There always is, isn't there?

If you don't have a calculator on your desk, there's one on your "start" button, under accessories. Get that fired up. Oh you know you want to. Do it.

My original flight Tuesday was supposed to leave at 11 am. At 9am, just before I was going to finish packing for the airport, I got a phone call that my flight was canceled, but I had been booked on the next available flight ... at 1:45pm. Super. Now instead of getting in around 5 (ET), it would be 9pm. Well, so I got a little more work done before I left.

Okay, I know at least one of you is wondering what to do with the map. Find gate C66. Now find B16. Figure out how far it is from C66 to B16. In miles. It had to be miles. It FELT like miles. Make sure you add in the distance of the tunnel between Terminal C and B. The one with the freaky new age music and flashing lights that could trigger epilepsy.

My flight through Cincy was uneventful, though my three hour wait could have been a little more pleasant. But then I arrived in DC an hour later than expected. There was no gate available. So we sat on the tarmac. In a severe lightning storm. In a giant metal tube. It was pretty though. Giant ribbons of lightning striking all around. Ground crew running for cover. Fun times.

Okay, let's Google some more. How many calories might one burn if one JOGGED that distance from C66 to B16?
Carrying a laptop bag (with laptop, power cord, mouse, iPod, Blackberry, cell phone, purse, wallet, book.... You get it. Add "carrying 23 lbs" to your calculations.)
Dragging a suitcase. (My NEW suitcase because Delta BROKE my other one. This one has a wonky wheel. It doesn't drive straight. It crashes into people. It runs over my toes.)
In flip flops. You know, because they are more comfortable than dress shoes. I should have went with the Reeboks.
Oh, and I was out of paper in the home office so add a ream of paper to the weight of the suitcase (so the firm wouldn't have to pay Office Depot to deliver). We gotta be up to 58 lbs now.

Before I left for the airport this afternoon, coworkers started IMing and calling me to tell me that there was a power outage at Washington Reagan. That can't be good. But the CNN story said backup power was allowing folks through security and planes to take off. By the time I got there (very speedily, I might add. The cab driver did 85 mph on the GW Parkway), the power was on, the security lines weren't so bad, and McDonald's was back to making chicken sandwiches. The planes were backed up though, and we left about an hour late.

Shout out to my online friend Lala for inspiring me to start walking. Otherwise, I never would have made it from C66 to B16 in less than 15 minutes. Oh, and I got quite a few neck stretches in, looking at the departure boards every time I sped past. Evansville was blinking "BOARDING" the whole way. I was sweating my a$$ off {{Yes, Patricia, because I was wearing PANTS. Not a skirt. PANTS.), but I was going to make it! And get a workout!

Now, the plane to Detroit was completely full. Every seat was filled. And I was in row 25. In the middle seat. Hey, I had a book to read. And, they had those cool touch screens in the seat back in front of me. But it had no sound. So I made a playlist of Fleetwood Mac, Michael Jackson and Lady Gaga. Then I read my book. Until the pilot announced that Detroit was having storms so we'd be circling for a while. But not too long, because we were almost out of gas, so we might take a side trip to Cleveland. Hey, I was just there! (another unfinished blog post)

By now you must have figured out I missed the connection in Detroit. I got to B16 to see them pushing the plane from the gate. And the screen still flashed "BOARDING". (Seriously. There were SIX of us on delayed flights. They couldn't have delayed the Evansville flight for FIFTEEN MINUTES?!??! At least update the status so I could have strolled from gate C66.) How many calories did I burn? I hope it is enough to offset the chicken fingers, french fries and chocolate cake I just ordered from room service.

But all is well that ends well, right? I work for a great firm that found me a hotel within a mile of the airport with a free shuttle. Free wi-fi. Fridge and microwave. And, of course, the aforementioned room service. The client will reimburse for the hotel and an extra day of food ... even if they didn't, the firm would pick it up.

So here I am, showered, in my jammies, blogging, watching The Learning Channel (why do you have ESPN, ESPN2, ESPN U, ESPN Classic but no Discovery, Syfy, A&E, or Biography?), sipping Diet Coke, and about to inhale a giant piece of chocolate cake. I've got the USA Today, my book, and my iPod.

I have to spend time traveling tomorrow, but then I'm taking the rest of the day off to play with my kids.

Life is good.

Maybe I should rent a car

Not only did I ride in a taxi with a driver who got lost and couldn't find the Ritz-Carlton Tysons Corner, but I was also evicted from a cab from a driver that didn't want to take me four blocks. Four blocks, he said. Why don't you just walk? What a jerk?! I'm in 4" heels and dragging a suitcase. THAT guy won't be allowed to pick up guests at the Capital Hilton anymore. So there.

So after experience with drivers who refuse to accept a credit card after I specifically asked for a driver who would AND multiple jerks that refuse to drive out of the city during rush hour, maybe I'll just rent a car from now on.

ugh!

Technology Blues

Two things have happened in the past couple of weeks that have just ticked me off.

First, Aly put her cell phone number in on some website and they've been charging our cell phone bill. Mike called Sprint and put a stop to that by blocking those sites. Apparently that block also deactivates the short codes (like 40404 instead of a full phone number) that I use for Twitter updates. That's right. I can't tweet from my cell phone anymore. UGH!

Then, Mike went and bought me a new iPod cord so I could sync my Touch with iTunes. The original cord is safely packed away in some box we'll never open again. Once synched, several apps were no longer compatible and were deleted. Apps like Twitter, Facebook and LinkedIn. The whole REASON for having an iPod Touch (well, beside that music and video stuff). So I needed to update the operating system. And Apple charges for it. Now, it is only $4.95, so no big deal, but really, isn't it odd that they would charge for a firmware update?! So, I pay the five bucks and upgrade. Now when I plug the iPod into the charger or my boom box, it doesn't work. It won't charge. It won't play through the speakers.

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?!

Well, it seems that Apple put code in the latest O/S that PREVENTS the iPod Touch (or the iPhone) from working with third party peripherals. Even the ones that have the Apple seal of approval (the box says "made for iPod" ... I think the third party vendor PAYS Apple to have that on the box). So now, unless I buy Apple branded (and more expensive) crap, I have no speakers, no charger, no car charger, no AV cord. I'm ticked. TICKED, I tell you.

My options:
(1) suck it up and buy Apple brand crap. Not gonna happen.
(2) restore to the previous O/S. But I won't have the apps I use all the time. Then I might as well have the regular old iPod to plug into my speakers.
(3) hack the damn thing. There are apps that you can download that allow you to "jailbreak" the iPod. This allows third party peripherals (and apps) to work. Supposedly, if you have a problem, you can just restore back to normal. I'm not sure I've got the guts to do it.

So, I guess option #4 is what I've chosen to do. Whine.

Why?

Why would you put the new girl on the espresso machine? Put her on the cash register! My latte didn't have any coffee in it.

Gonna have a wild weekend

It all started today when I decided not to work. Okay so I worked for 30 minutes - but not even all at once.
Aly, Mike & I went to lunch --- I must digress ...

We tend to have emergencies when Mike is out of town. Yesterday, they had one without me. Nothing too horrible, but consider this a PSA: if your husband has an awful, lifelong fear/aversion to bugs and calls to say he found a few little bugs in your kid's hair and he's pretty sure they are just gnats from a tree and you convince him to wash her hair with lice shampoo anyway and he says he combed every inch of her hair and you don't get in till midnight so you believe him--- think again because you will spend at least three hours of your day off re-washing and re-combing every single strand of her hair. At least he washed all the sheets and clothes and bagged the pillows. Oh and btw she slept in the waterbed while you were gone.
Anyone else scratching their heads now?

Okay, where was I? Ah lunch at the Mexican place and a long long nap because we are going to the midnight showing of my favorite movie in the whole world: The Princess Bride. I've never seen it on the big screen and I can't wait. We're all going and I imagine folks will be saying the lines along with the movie. I'm wearing my "I'm in the brut squad" shirt.
After the movie we will come home for a nap because we are going to leave early for Mt Airy (the real Mayberry). We will see the sights around town, check in to the hotel and then head out early to get a good spot at the drive-in. Double feature is Night at the Museum & Terminator Salvation.
It's about a 5 hr drive home Sunday, so Monday will be a day of rest. I'm really looking forward to it. Hope all of you have a great weekend.

welcome to flu season

I stayed home sick today and Aly just projectile vomited.
Consider yourself warned.

So unbelievable!

I used to watch soap operas on ABC. It is weird how you can not watch for years, but it only takes you a day to get caught back up. Sometimes, though, when I'm feeling particularly sane, I wonder why folks watch this stuff. It is so unbelievable. How's this for a plot line ...

The mother of the bride starts drinking early. By the time she's getting her hair done, she can't even talk without slurring. Somehow, the wedding goes as planned, but the fireworks start on the way to the reception.

The mother of the bride (lets say MOTB), acts very inappropriately with one of the groomsmen (probably 8-10 yrs her junior) in the limo. V-E-R-Y inappropriately. While embarrassing for the whole party (sans the bride and groom who are elsewhere in a horse drawn carriage), it is especially painful for one of the bridemaids ... her dad has been living with MOTB for some 8 years.

Upon arrival at the reception, everyone piles out of the limo. Well, not everyone. The bridesmaid dives back in, slams the door and you hear screaming. Bridesmaid and MOTB exit separately. Groomsman heads for the bar.

The bridesmaids, the mother of the groom, assorted grandparents and other relatives make every effort to keep MOTB away from the bride, but to no avail. She gets to the bride, lambastes the bridesmaid and brings the bride to tears. MOTB stomps around the reception like a hurricane, cornering whoever will listen, including the Reverend. All seems to be calming down. SEEMS.

The bride prepares to toss the bouquet. Just as she releases it, MOTB slides in front of the bridesmaid, snatches from her hands and sneers. A class act, the bridesmaid walks away. MOTB smacks the bridesmaid on the back of the head with the bouquet and slurs "take that!"

Did I mention that MOTB's boyfriend was there? That MOTB left the party three different times for 20 minutes or so, with other men? That she kept cornering the minister to tell her story?

I can't possibly remember all of the details but there was much crying, arguing, outdoor screaming and the finale ... MOTB shoved the bride and was escorted from the building and barred from returning.

It would have been hilarious if it were a tv show. It was actually the wedding I attended this weekend. Seriously. And, yes, my husband was the minister. For the final act, MOTB locked her keys in her truck, called 911 for assistance and rode home in a tow truck because the cops wouldn't let her drive.

In summary, the groom says "I think everything went really well ... except for that one thing." All my love and luck to the bride and groom. With a mom like that, they are going to need it.

I can't even think of a title at this point

... now that I've written the whole post, I have a title ...
A Day (or Two) In the Life

It all started yesterday morning when I rode the Metro downtown to VA Central Office to renew my badge. Someone waiting in line pointed out that my fly was open. Gray pants and bright fuschia panties. Nice.

As I sat waiting, I realized I forgot my social security card. Since my badge was expired, I would need two forms of ID. The good news was that no one noticed. It still took an hour because the system kept going down. They printed the new badge, they just couldn't release it till the system allowed them to check me out.

So I stopped at Starbucks and they were out of wraps, so I got a muffin. Three different people wanted to see me at work, but I stopped first to meet our newest team member. She's really nice but I spent very little time because I checked my bberry and found message from the client staff. Apparently someone on my team meant to send ME an email complaining about the client, and instead, replied to the client.

I had to do some recovery with the client and convince the team member not to jump out of the window. While consoling the client, the vendor called. They were on the hot seat for some recent issues and needed me to QA their presentation.

So I made sure the staff was on track for the 11 am conference call and proceeded to put out fires. Well, everyone wasn't on track. The one person who was supposed to facilitate the call didn't show up. Not good.

Desperate to catch up on the bucket brigade and at least have ONE thing go right, I asked a coworker to read the project announcement on the national call at noon so I could finalize the slides for the 1:00 meeting. No problem. Till 12:17 when I started getting email messages saying "aren't you doing an announcement" and "no one is answering for you on the call". Apparently, technical difficulties prevented her from un-muting so her announcement came last, and after much confusion.

I think it was at this point that I finally ate the muffin.

The 1:00 meeting was at VA, so I jumped in a cab. Our meeting was on the 5th floor. The 5th floor was locked with a keypad and the conference table was loaded with books and binders. We went up to 7 and it took 15 mins to get everyone in the same room. The presentation went ok, but key folks had to leave at the 1 hr mark and it was at the 1:04 hr mark that we got to the slides with questions.

My 3:00 meeting with the client was supposed to be easy. Despite the fact that I had only had a handful of carrots in the previous 30 minutes, I had a good attitude. The client did not. She was mad at the vendor, remember? Our meeting went a little longer than expected, so I was late picking up the new girl from the lobby for our 4:15 project kickoff.

We started around 4:20 and my boss says "so, you are running this meeting, right?" Actually, the meeting was ok, but again ran long and we were late to dinner. With the vendor. Who was going to get yelled at the next morning and wanted us to tell them what to do to recover.

The restaurant menu was kind of weird. -- Who would eat dandelion greens on purpose? -- I ordered the shrimp flatbread ... a mini pizza. Very mini. We weren't done until 9 so I didn't get home until 10.

Note that I hadn't been online all day. Two hours later, I'd gotten through my email. Now it was time to write that proposal I was supposed to do last Friday. Seriously. I finally went to bed at 4:45 am. Up at 6:45 this morning to do it all over again.

I had *lots* of coffee today. Mike took me downtown (ok, so that took an hour instead of the normal 20 minutes) and picked me up from the Metro so I didn't have to drive or cab it. Someone else bought my lunch. I completed the slides for tomorrow's presentation, plus two other things that HAD to be done. The only bad news? My shoes gave me a giant blister on the bottom of my foot. As I was leaving the office to come home for Aly's open house, I twisted my ankle and popped the blister during my wipe-out on the sidewalk. In downtown DC. On K Street. So both feet hurt and I had to hobble all the way to the Metro. And it was 5:45 so I didn't get a seat.

We were on time for the open house, even though I was running later than expected. Actually, we were early. The 7:00 open house didn't really start until 7:35. And kids weren't supposed to go. So Aly was the only kid in the room while the teacher was trying to give parents insight on his approach to teaching. And, by the way, there was no time to TALK to the teacher. Please sign up for an appointment. Beginning 10/26.

So, I just got to eat dinner. And now I really have to finish that proposal. Or maybe I'll actually sleep tonight? Hmmm, maybe after I shower and pack for our trip. Because we're leaving to drive to Boonville after Mike's football game tomorrow around 9 pm. I suppose I can catch up on my sleep in the car.

Such is the life. If you made it this far, you finally know how a day in the life of Tonya goes.

ETA: Actually, I think this all started on Monday. I went directly to the restroom when I got to work and as I washed my hands, I realized I had completely forgotten to put on makeup. Frightening. In addition to the PMS, this gave me every reason to come home early. I'm starting to worry that tomorrow might be a disaster.

And the rain, rain, rain came down, down, down

Yesterday, I thought I'd name this post "One more difference in Virginia" and then go on about how everyone around here is completely freaked out about Tropical Storm Hanna. They postponed the Friday night football game. ((P.S. That is another difference ... these people do NOT take high school sports very seriously. Or maybe Indiana is a little over the top?)

But that was before today at 2 pm when we found that the basement was flooding.

We used every towel, blanket and comforter in the house to build dams to corral the water. We used the carpet cleaning machine to suck up the water (one gallon at a time). We used Zorbeez, soak and wring, soak and wring. We used the children till they collapsed. I finally went to Home Depot and bought a wet/dry vac. By 6:30, we had given up. The rain had stopped but the water was still seeping in. We built more dams around the two remaining puddles and I finally showered. Okay, the kids didn't find every towel - there was still one in my bathroom.

I haven't moved from the couch. I'm not sure I can. I certainly don't want to know if any of our dams burst.

Ah, and that title is a Winnie the Pooh song, if you don't know it. It came to me in the shower. And this VeggieTales one, slightly modified...

I thank God for this day
For the sun in the sky (finally)
For my Zorbeez and my wet vac
And my basement that is dry.

Except its not. Yet.

An open letter to that guy

that yelled at his toddler in the bar tonight.

I have some questions for you:
1. Why were your kids aged 7 and under awake at 9:30pm?
2. Why were your kids in a BAR at 9:30pm?
3. Why would you not expect a three year old to spill ketchup?

I also have a few points to make. The use of "G-----m you" at the top of your voice in a public place to a three year old child is
1. Degrading to your child. I'll be surprised if the kid doesn't turn out to be a felon. I'm praying that he doesn't. I can see your mother-in-law didn't buy your useless excuses, and I hope the next time you "beat his a--" like you informed us all that you do, that she turns you over to CPS. Or finds someone to kick yours.
2. Rude to the other patrons of the bar. Regardless of who you were speaking to or what you were saying, screaming explosively like that just told everyone that you are (a) a mean drunk and (b) unable to control yourself. Way to go! I only wish there was a bouncer, since the young Irish folks tending the bar were obviously too scared of your 400 lbs to throw you out.
and last, but most certainly not least
3. An insult to me and my God. This is what caught my attention and made me turn around to glare. Lucky for you, you were too focused on spilled ketchup to notice that everyone was staring. I was hoping you'd say something to me, because I'd have read you the riot act (as posted here) and dared you to make a move toward me.

I know there are only about three people who read this blog and this will never make it back to that guy, but I just hope if someone who berates their children or uses my God's name in vain reads this, they'll realize the error of their ways. I'm not betting on it, but then I'm not a bettor, I'm a pray-er.

So there.

PS, for the wife of this gem of a man. How many times has he spoken this way to you? Hit you? Did you really think he wouldn't treat your children that way too? Do you think that is how they'll treat their families some day? Well it is, and you're just as liable for that as he is. Get OUT.

Walker, Texas Ranger: in real life

No, not Chuck Norris.

On recommendation from my sister and her husband, Mike and I watched Talledega Nights a few months ago. The only part we really liked was dinner with Walker & Texas Ranger, Ricky Bobby's two kids. Tonight, we saw these kids in real life at the Giant Crab restaurant.

I *know* that Will Farrell probably got the idea for these kids while he was out to eat at a Myrtle Beach restaurant. The accents, the rudeness, the oblivious parents, we saw it in real life tonight. Good gravy.

$58.83

I filled up the van, which had been beeping at me that the tank was close to empty (yes, Mike is out of town). $58.83. Ouch.

The Flu Times Two

How does that happen?

I am so so sick AGAIN. Maybe I didn't blog it last time, but I missed a week of work before Christmas because I had the flu. The sore throat, snotty nose, hurting ears, diarrhea flu. Now I have the headache, earache, throatache, body ache flu. Definitely a different strain huh? And the whole family has it. Only Mike went to church Sunday, and he kinda has to, being the pastor and all.

Oh, and YES, I did get a flu shot this year. I'm just lucky I guess.

Mike's at the varsity basketball game tonight ... freshman bball is officially over. But he is driving to Indiana for an engagement party. He'll leave tomorrow morning and return Sunday morning, in time to preach. I'll be putting my "missing you" punky back up. Who's going to take care of me while I'm weak as a kitten?!

Third Time's the Charm

Well, I had no luck figuring out the origin of this phrase, unless it is related to the English "Third Time Lucky". Regardless of where it originated, my mom knew it and I've heard it all my life. In fact, I've found myself saying and I think I could apply it to several major events in my life.

• Engaged twice, I finally met and married the love of my life on the third try.
  
• Two sick baby boys, and I finally had a healthy baby girl.
  
• Two career paths (Chemistry, Insurance) and finally, I'm happy in Consulting.
  
• Not counting college, we've lived two places (Boonville, Indianapolis) before we moved to Virginia, and this one is sticking.

And now I have another example, kind of. This isn't a case of me trying something twice and finally getting it right the third time. Well, maybe it is a little (I'll explain that angle later). But this is something that has happened to me twice before and now that it has happened for the third time, I'm vowing to never let it happen again.

Today I went to Crystal City to attend the class I'm teaching at Advisory University tomorrow and Friday. I came in around 10 am to miss the traffic and the registration desk was very quiet, so I got the full attention of the lady behind the desk. A very chatty but clearly socially inappropriate lady. While she was printing my name badge she asked, that question NO ONE in their right mind should ask any one at any time, ever unless they have been previously briefed by either the questionee or a close personal friend of same ....

When are you due?

Oh no she di'int?! Yes, acutally she did. Twice. My answer was "Excuse me" (insert incredulous look)?! And she asked again, "When are you due?" Thinking fast on my feet and clutching my hands together so that I didn't pull out my orange belt tae kwon do fighting skills and knife hand strike her ... I replied, "Oh, I'm not due to teach until 1:00 but I wanted to be sure I didn't get delayed by traffic."

Anyone out there appalled? What kind of person ASKS that question? Seriously? Well, ok, what kind of WOMAN asks that question (Mike admits, he's done it)? Anyone else remembering the title of this post and thinking "wait a minute, this isn't the first time this has happened to her?" Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner! This is the third time my non-pregnant belly has been mistaken for a baby carrier. So let's review

1. The first time this happened was when I was working at MPlan and wearing, I'll admit, a shapeless knit tshirt-type dress that didn't do a good job of hiding my 6-month post-Aly didn't-lose-the-weight belly. The offender was mortified and a co-worker came to her rescue, pointing out, "You know, that dress does make you look pregnant." Thanks Kathy.

2. The second time was at a VA training session in Asheville NC. A participant pulled me aside and said "I'm just dying to ask, but are you pregnant?" Now, I don't know, asking "When are you due?" isn't smart, but if you have to ask IF someone IS pregnant, don't do it. When I told her no, she just smiled and said, well the way your jacket fits, and you carry yourself when you walk, it does make you look that way." WTF? I waddle?

3. This time was the worst I think. I was wearing a new outfit that I had worn to church on Sunday. I must have told Mike at least 6 times how much I loved the outfit (print calf-length skirt, silky brown top with cowl collar, tan suede shirt jacket and brown suede slingback heels) and he said it looked good. I think it must have been the clingy brown shirt that accented the belly. I don't know if I'll ever wear it again.

After the first time, I did the Atkins diet, lost more than 30 lbs and kept it off for two years. When we moved to Greenwood, about 15 lbs came back. It was after the second time ... several months after ... that I dieted again via a new year's resolution, and lost 16 lbs. I've actually kept most of that off, and I promised myself I would not make that kind of resolution again, but it did end up on my list thanks to doctor's orders. So here we go with the third offense and the third try. There's no failing this time or my next cliche is going to be "Three strikes and you're out".

Another PSA: People who take kids to restaurants

Mike and I went out to eat last night and I would just like to share this Public Service Announcement with people who eat in restaurants with their children.

1. I do not find it cute that your three year old dances through the restaurant while you eat. I find it hard to enjoy my dinner with a set of eyes staring at my plate. Bring something else for your child to DO.

2. Don't allow your 12 year old to text at the table. It is rude. Especially when he has to ask you how to spell "curious". And why does he still call you "Mommy .. Mommy ... MOMMY!!!!!" in public?

3. The nine year old is an obvious middle child. Quiet till you sent her up front to the candy machine (because sugar is definitely what your family needs), then she began to act out. I am sure the restaurant did not decorate just so she could take everything apart.

4. If your 17 yr old is horrified just by appearing in public with you, maybe she's on the right track.

5. I understand that the wait staff is there to, well, wait on you, but could you make some sort of effort to clean up the disaster you left? Or at least pick up the silverware and napkins from the floor?

Mike decided if our family behaved this way, he'd never leave the house. What makes us the saddest is that the children will grow up to have children just like themselves ... selfish, oblivious and with an attitude of entitlement.

And let me ask... If YOU behaved this way when you were a child, what would your parents have done? What has changed our society since then?

WWW - not just the World Wide Web

Wee Willie Winkie
Walla Walla Washington
What Women Want
Wild Wild West
Wicked Witch of the West
Which one Will i Write about? None of the above.

It's the Worst Work Week. Definitely. And I'll bet you want to know What Went Wrong. Let me bring you up to speed.

Mondays stink in general. You all know my feelings about Mondays. I usually get depressed on Sunday night, because Monday is looming. Yes, it is cliche, but who really wants to go back to work after a weekend to yourself? My Mondays are especially stinky nowadays, because I have meetings. Well, yeah, I have meetings everyday, but on Mondays, I have team calls from 11-1 and 2-4. Often, folks will want to talk to me at 10 or -gag- 4. The 1:00 break is spent picking Aly up from school. This Monday was particularly busy because my Director is out of town (biking through the French countryside) and that means I'm in charge. On this particular Monday, I was looking forward to getting some things done before my meetings started when my computer screen froze. Then it worked. Then it froze. Then I got the Blue Screen o' Death. Eh, I've gotten those before. Actually, I've been getting it about once per week. We'll just reboot. This is where the trouble starts. Operating system not found. Crunchy noises coming from the hard drive. Its not going to be a good day.

Mike agreed to pick up Aly, so I got dressed, slapped on some makeup and hit the road for work. I finished my conference call from the road and my extreme irritation leaked out on the call. It wasn't pretty and definitely cemented my status as "harsh and threatening." Let's just say apologizies were issued. On an encouraging note, US IT was impressed by my description of the sounds coming from my machine. And then they said it ... "I'm afraid we have bad news. Really bad news." Yes, my hard drive was shot. Now, the firm keeps backups of everyone's computer with two caveats.
1. You have to actually allow the backup software to run. Since it slows down your reponse time, lots of people cancel it out. Luckily, I let mine run, on Thursday. Yes. All documents created Friday were gone.
2. Only documents are backed up. Any software you had installed is gone. This meant that all of the client software would need to be reinstalled. At the client site. Ugh.
The rest of the bad news? To completely reimage my computer, it would take at least overnight (and by now it was 3:00 pm). I would be without a computer for a while.

In fact, on Tuesday I was scheduled to be downtown for a couple of meetings. The kinda cool part was that I could log on to a computer there and get to my client mail. I set up an away message that said "My computer crashed. Don't bet I'm going to read this any time soon." Actually it didn't say that. I just thought of that. I should change it to that now. But I was being optimistic way back there on Tuesday. So I spent Tuesday in the client office. I haven't sat in a cubicle and worked at a real computer in years. Now I remember why I like working from home (you know, besides wearing my jammies all day and having a little black doggie on my lap) ... people in the office think they can interrupt you at any time, because they can see you. I am going to appreciate my invisibility more now. I spent a grueling hour briefing the client on a presentation she was to make the following morning. Not my project. Not my area of expertise. But remember, I was in charge this week. I had a list of 5 other things to talk to her about but we got to none of them. I was downtown till almost 6 pm and had to stand on the Metro almost all of the way home. Oh, and US IT called at 3 pm to let me know my computer was ready. I got home in time to shove food in the kids, drop Zak off at volleyball practice, and then go pick him back up.

That meant another trip to the Tyson's office on Wednesday. I had actually scheduled a conference room for the day, so this was no big deal. Of course, it took 30 minutes to get my computer back, and I spent the rest of the day getting popups that said "BLAHBLAH is being installed on your computer. Don't touch anything!" and "Do you want to restart now?" Oh, and that backup? It tried to run for hours and couldn't get past my 3,000,000 byte mail archive. At 4:00 the client called and asked for a deliverable by the next day. And the partner emailed me and wanted an updated monthly hours spreadsheet. Traffic was so backed up from the interstate, I couldn't get out of the parking garage. It took an hour to get home. I watched Kid Nation with the kids while I did more work. And drank. I was up till 1:00 am.

I really should have gone back downtown on Thursday, but I was exhausted. My 10:00 meeting went well, even though no one had gotten me their material on time before the call. There were a few crises - Compliance was freaking out over one of our projects so I had to dial into a "calm me down" call. Oh and speaking of compliance, my new hire coachee was about to be suspended for not completing the required training and other administrative duties. D'oh! Way to go Coach Tonya! Ah, and the deliverable I sent wasn't what the client wanted, so I had to re-do it at 4 pm. We didn't have time to go to Burrito Brothers for dinner, so we had hotdog-potato chip combo at the football game. And isn't $5 a head for admission to a high school freshman football game a little high??

Now you would think I'd be happy for Friday, right? Not so much. Friday was my day trip to Charlotte, NC. My flight left at 7:30 am so I was leaving the house at 5:45. Hey, there was definitely less traffic on the parkway; I got to park by the exit at the Metro station; and, I had a seat to myself on the train. My iPod had been left on and my battery was dead. I charged it in my laptop at the airport though. I had selected the exit row window seat the day before and -what a great treat- the seat in front of me had been removed. Talk about leg room! I bought a book at the airport, which I never do, but I was planning on finishing my current book, "The Cat Who Wasn't There" on the trip and I was in no mood to work. The flight was uneventful, the cab ride bearable, and I had time for coffee and email before the interview. Oh, but the guy who was supposed to meet me in Charlotte to tag-team on the interview? Forgot his wallet and didn't have enough gas in the car to make it. He had to dial in. Had a great lunch in Charlotte, Cajun Fish and Red Beans n Rice. The cab ride back to the airport was hair-raising, but I made it in one piece. I had the same seat on the plane for the return trip, but this one was bumpy. Tickle your belly on a roller coaster bumpy. It's been a while since I've flown.

Once again, I got home just in time for volleyball. I'd arranged for someone to pick Zak up for his game so I got to down some dinner before going to catch the last half of the match. We were home by 8:15 and I was in bed by 8:17. Really.

Mike and the kids went to King's Dominion today and I've been working. Yes, I know. Ugh! Anyway, now it is time to relax. I have been eating sushi most of the day and now I'm going to finish that book I bought. And maybe have a little power nap. Heck, if you've read all this, you probably need one too.

PS, No, we still haven't closed on the house. Maybe Tuesday.