From Everyone's Favorite Psychopath

Psycopath: A person with an antisocial personality disorder, manifested in aggressive, perverted, criminal, or amoral behavior without empathy or remorse.

Yeah, I agree with that. I have to say it's nice not feeling that way anymore. After talking to my therapist about that whole way too much zoloft thing she said it was actually "normal" to feel this way. Feel? Lady, it was starting to feel like a way of life. One day H. was going to find a secret room in our house riddled with bizarre newspaper clippings complete with red pen markings on them about all my victims. I was honestly seeing the logic behind hurting someone who made me mad. Making me mad was really easy too. It was scary. I was beginning to wonder and question where the line is between knowing this is wrong and no longer understanding that. How awful is that? So obviously 50 mg of zoloft is waaaaay too much for little ol' me. CT was also the way to go she stated. I'm so glad as if she really had a say anyway.

I think now the roadways are much safer as are my asshat neighbors. Oh speaking of which, it seems I am now not the only lawn with a big pile of poo on it. I do not really take delight in this fact as it's still beyond disgusting but now at least it's not just my house. I really don't like being the neighborhood lawn Nazi. The outfit just doesn't become me.

Can it be?

Am I seeing things or is that a tiny ray of sunshine peeping out from the dark clouds? For a small window of time on my morning commute I wore sunglasses. Not because of the sun glaring in my eyes but from the possibility of sun and my poor cloud induced eyes were straining from that possibility. If you all are watching CNN (which I'm not) or any other major news network I've heard that the coverage about our rain is making it out to be another Katrina/New Orleans type disaster. It's not and we are all ok.

That out of the way I had my third therapy session last night. It actually went well and was the best one yet. She stuck to her guns though and threw out that thorny question I loathe, "What do you hope to get from therapy?" Crap! I don't know lady! I don't want to backslide into the depression that is PPD that is for sure. I told her I'm off the meds and she actually thought that was a great thing, but that I need to see a psychiatrist to be evaluated still. Augh. I so don't want to do that. I went to one once in college and it was all brain-fucky. Yuck. It's to see if I need more meds or a different type and if so what dose. Who cares is what I say but I'll do it and humor the nice counselor lady. And H. It does make me question- What do I hope to get out of all this. I told her I would like to be less controlling. She asked me if H. thought I was controlling. I told her no. She then asked, "Are you mean to him?" Hmm.... let's see. I'm sarcastic as hell with him, I don't touch him much these days and he did tell me I've been rather cold lately. Mean? Nope, not me. Actually I did fess up and say- "Well, I am but, that's what he loves about me! Except when you throw that whole depression thing in there and well, then that's no fun." She told me she likes how honest I am. GOLD STAR FOR ME!! I told her about the blog too. She thinks it's good therapy for me. I rock and earn another gold star. So in all, it was a good session. We are staying away from the whole issue of my parents and my past male experiences and we're going to dive into my "mother's guilt" next time. That is going to be as much fun as wrangling a bag full of cats on meth.

Update: It seems that the neighbor I thought I had in my corner in the poop feud did NOT say anything to the dimwits next door. Sigh... But, she is going to. Just not about the poop. Well, she might throw it in there I can only hope. She apparently has other issues with the rocks for brains neighbors. For some reason their laziness extends to their backyard and beyond their inability to pick up dog shite. They trudge through her yard and bushes that she lovingly cultivates with their giant trashcans each week (we have trash service twice a week, so really it's four times of lugging those things through her yard). The geniuses are ruining her yard. You might ask or wonder to yourself, "How hard would it be to go around this woman's yard?" Oh reader, not hard at all. It's about a one foot difference. There's no fence, nothing! It defies logic on why they tread on her property to do this. It seriously makes me want to start boobie trapping their yard, slicing their tires and feeding antifreeze to their cats (ok that one I'll admit was harsh, the cats have done nothing wrong here). They just make me insane. H. has barred me discussing this issue at home so I need an outlet. He is so frustrated it keeps him awake at night. Can we evict them?

Bed Head or 80's Rock Hair

It's raining here. As you all know by now. Even my Mom knows as she has instructed me in her daily email NOT to drive through puddles. Ok Mom, thanks for the tip. I'll try but seeing as it's rained for FOUR DAYS now it might be a wee bit difficult.
So, with this rain comes incredibly bad hair for most of us. Me of the fine, limp hair variety and in serious need of a trim has decided that I am sick of putting my hair up. Yesterday, I tried straightening it. Eeww not a good idea. By the time I reached work it was a frizzy but flat mess. By the end of the day it looked unwashed and plastered to my head. Lovely. Today, I decided to just let it go. I moussed it ( I know so 80s) and blew it sort of dry and was very devil may care about it all. Unlike me and my anal retentiveness I know. It might also have something to do with the 2 a.m. wake- up I got from T.D. screaming at the top of her lungs and being incredibly tired. Anyway, I get to work and one of my fellow early co-workers says- I cannot look at you! Gee thanks... He then proceeds to say he can't concentrate on what I'm saying because I have bed head hair and it's hot! Oooh kay. I go to the bathroom and stare at my reflection. Wow! So this is the supposed bed head hair? Usually it looks flat and sticks out at random unflattering angles. Right now it's just sort of wild and mildly wavy. Hm.... On my way back to my desk another co-worker (also male) stops me and says- Your hair! It looks more volumey (sp? is this even a word?) It's more blonde and kind of 80's rocker girl hair! I just look at him. He then says- You know if you put on bright red lipstick and a shorter skirt you would totally be an 80s hair band groupie. I have no idea what to even say to that except that it goes against every follicle I possess. It's not even a secret hair fantasy. I think I like the bed head hair comment better even though it skeezed me out a tad.

This is a nice tie-in though on the PRODUCT OF THE WEEK:

This week we have Aveeno Posivtively Radiant Mositurizer with Spf 15. I only buy facial moisturizers with spf 15 or higher in them. I'm prone to freckles which I loathe as it continues those cute comments and I'm 30. Not 5. I just purchased this item a few days ago. It claims to even out skin tone and reflect light to bring out your skin's natural radiance. I don't sit in front of the mirror looking for radiance these days but it does tingle a teensy bit when you put it on. It's still early yet but I like the thickness of it but yet it's not greasy. It spreads well and absorbs great. So far so good. The scent is also very light and doesn't bother me while many products do. It has an active soy ingredient in it as it's part of Aveeno's soy line. I think it might be a perfect summer moisturizer.

I will now go back to looking awake at my desk while secretly snoozing.

I've got the rainy day blues

And possibly a case of the Mondays. It's been raining for what already feels like an eternity. It's incredible rain and despite minor delays of sunshine in the rainy onslaught it still feels continuous. It's supposed to be like this all week. It's pretty unreal in some areas. All I want to do is curl up with a good book and come tea or cocoa in my array of special mugs and snooze the day away. Maybe nosh on some cadbury chocolate with my blue bink and the dog and pop in a DVD or two. But, I'm here at work and fighting it.
H. is finally feeling better it seems and T.D. is so far not showing signs of the dreaded pox. I hope we sail through this but the incubation period can be long so it might not happen for a bit. I'm just not feeling very kicky right now. I think it's a combo of things- the rain, my wonderful monthly visit and possibly being off the 'z'. I broke down on Sunday and took one pill. I was just feeling very low and Saturday had been a real bad day, going to a funeral did not help. H. and I have discussed it and I just don't know how to get out of this funk. I have a string of good days and a then some bad ones. It's unlike any situation I've ever been in. I'm determined to get through it though and soldier on so to speak. I'm less hungry though which is nice. No more of that insatiable starving feeling. I'm also sleeping better without the vivid crazy dreams and hangover headache feeling during the day. That's a relief and the nosebleeds are gone. The anger feelings too. I'm still just feeling down though or sometimes that I'll cry over nothing. This better just be my stupid period.

Ok enough of that. The poop war/ neighbor feud silently continues. Sunday morning awoke with the hopes that the front yard would be cleaned up. By rain or by the morons next door I didn't care. Alas, my dreams and hopes were crushed as was my morning paper. The poop has not only not been cleaned up but it's multiplied. AUGH!!! Even my Mom who is normally always about taking the high road or turning the other cheek thinks I should just pick it up and continue to place it on their front step. I seriously think the dog walker they've hired also doesn't pick up because that would explain the afternoon additions to the front lawn on Friday while they were at work. That has to be the dumbest, laziest dog walker ever. I want to fire them. I've decided that I'm calling the Po Po on their asses next time I see them with the dog outside. That's it. It's now a county issue. I've told Lexie that she's on day shift and needs to be on the lookout for any crap activity. She's probably not reliable as a source but whatever. I've also considred typing up a letter telling them to straighten out or else! Or else what I'm not sure but this has GOT TO STOP!!! I'm so disgusted. I'm also obsessesed. The fact that an ear of corn has also been tossed out on the front lawn as an offering to squirrels just makes it that much worse. I do not feel like waging war with those chattering rodents.

This brings me to the long delayed installment of THE QUESTION OF THE WEEK:

What would you do if you were in this situation with your neighbors? Let me know I'm getting desperate.

Do you smell that?

Yeah, it's gross. It's probably the 3 new piles of fresh dog crap that have appeared since this morning. Apparently not even their dog walker knows how to pick up crap. Now here is something really awful. I was out running errands today and I saw something quite amazing. I wanted to capture it on videotape as a "How-to" for my neighbors ( I use that term in the weakest sense of the word). There was the elderly woman walking her dog and she had a leg cast on and a cane. It made it incredibly difficult for to walk. She was barely even hobbling. Then she did the amazing thing. With the cast and cane and dog on leash the old woman bent over and with a tiny green bag she picked up her dog poop. Quite a feat folks. It just made me all the more angry when I came home and found the three new piles in the front yard. Sickening!!!!

I did file a formal complaint with the HOA which made me feel all Bree Van de Kamp. But, I tell you I will get really righteous on their asses if they don't start picking it up. I found out last night we are not the only ones who have spoken to them and who wanted to complain to the HOA. We're just the only ones who have actually done anything. I swear though one day I will just snap like H. did but they will be around and I will be hurling their dogs crap right in their faces. THIS IS WAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Freakin' morons.

Happy Now?

Dear Mr. Sisto,

I am your neighbor from two houses down. It has come to my attention that you also have a lab like I do. I desperately need your advice on a certain pesky pet situation. I don't know how to pick up after my dog. How do you do it sir? I could really use your input. Last week I found quite a large and disturbing pile of dog shite on my front step and I wonder- how on earth did that get there? Did I really let the dog relieve herself on the front step? Am I that blinded by my ultra-cool dark shades? I simply can't recall. Anyhoo, please get back to me asap because I feel some pressing death rays coming from the house that is situated between us.

Best Regards,



The Kung Fu Master Near You








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This letter and all it's contents are based on true events. Names, dates and this letter are fictionalized for dramatic purposes.

Yo Ho Ho and a Bottle of... EVERYTHING!

It's day two off the meds. I decided to go CT (cold turkey) rather than wean myself. Actually, I just forgot to take them this morning. I swear this decision couldn't come at a better time. I find myself continuously yelling - SERENITY NOW!

Here's how the week is playing out. H. has been sick since last Friday and our schedule has remained busy. I had to leave work early to take T.D. to her four month check up and wouldn't you know all holy hell broke loose. It always does. It's usually due to the same person flying off whatever handle he has a small grasp on. So I get into work today and my office has been torn apart (thanks freak!) and then there's news of impending lay-offs next week. You want a summer vacation?! You've got a summer vacation! In the unemployment line! I'm just really getting sick of dealing with all this crap. My shit feels all apart. I can't concentrate very well. To top it all off I have a major case of PMS. What fun. All I want to do in times of stress is eat or self-medicate (so mature and healthy of me). So between my not being able to find time or energy to workout I have a migraine, exhaustion, and the need to eat about six Skor bars, four Venti latte's and a feedbag's worth of heavily buttered popcorn. Oh yeah it's that bad. I get home at night and what do I want besides the chain smoking and whining on my deck? I want wine or vodka. Wine or vodka? Hm.. I really can't decide. Let's have both! No, really I don't but it does cross my hallucinating, hamster on a wheel mind.

I just want to say that this all better calm down. I don't think it's the PPD but just life. Like that can really be controlled. But my hopes are that I'm still writing this to you all with health insurance for the meds I'll probably need again and a salary to keep the despot in the life she is used to.

Toodles...

Sigh.......

Yesterday, I flipped out over the whole weight gain zoloft thing. I did a lot of research on going off it and I won't be quitting cold turkey. H. thinks I should see my dr about it and he's probably right. My therapist will have a field day on my ass when I tell her what I'm doing. I just can't take another freakin' appt in my book or waiting. I'm done. So since the z goes out of the system pretty quick I'm going to half doses and then every other day and then nothing. I don't want anything else. If I feel like I'm needing something I'll go back to my doctor but for now the amount of side effects I have it's not worth it. Did I mention that uncontrollable anger is also one? See my previous posts and you might see a pattern. Along with lack of sex drive, nose bleeds, vivid dreams, the weight gain, teeth grinding and the whole anger issue why am I on this drug again? I would rather be crying than all those things.

So that is that. I don't want to hear a peep from the peanut gallery. I know you all care but this is just me. I have to do it this way. I'm stubborn I know.

On another note that is slightly more morbid H. and I are doing our wills. It's a necessary evil as an adult who has acuqired property and a T.D. I think. Thinking about all this stuff has me dwelling on what I would want if I go soon. I'm drafting a funeral plan. I'm posting this info out here so you all know- I've got a plan. Of course I have a plan! When have I not made a list or written an itinerary for something?! I'm a control freak and one who knows it is all in the details so this is just one other thing to check off my mental list. Create funeral plan. Make list of what items go to whom. Revise at will whenever I feel like. Keep in safe place, etc. Morbid probably but I'll feel better knowing that I'm not being buried in some gaudy coffin or a pine box. Nor do I want stuffy durge-like music. I'm precise and like things done right. This is just one more thing for me to go all balls out anal about.

Three Strikes Your Out!

At lunch today I was enjoying (ok not really) Shape magazine. I say not really because this magazine always makes me feel like information overload. That I'm not doing enough to be the best and most in shape I can be. The amount of pressure I feel from reading this magazine or Fitness and sometimes Self is nuts. But I was desperate for something to read and I came upon this little gem.

Zoloft, Prozac and Paxil can inhibit your feeling full and increase your appetite making it difficult to maintain or lose weight.

Rather, you gain weight! I asked my doctor this and he said- Nope, no way. Yeah right. I knew it. There was NO reason I should have been hungry last night or as hungry as I have been for the last few weeks. People wonder why I'm hostile- it's the freakin' zoloft that's making me want to consume massive amounts of food all day. It all makes sense now. I was literally insatiable right after eating a huge meal.

That's it, this stuff is out of here! Done! I'm off the z.

My sick Mind

I'm skipping my therapy appt for the second week in a row. I just don't feel the need for it but I also have something else going on tonight. It's rescheduled for next Tuesday. I just seriously don't think I want to keep going but I feel obligated. My only questions are- how do I know the zoloft is really working, when can I stop taking it and can I take something else because it makes me a bit dizzy and it's giving me very bizarre dreams. Or that could be the Sonata I'm taking at night with it. Which I am starting to hate too- after precisely 5 hours I wake up. I cannot fall back asleep. My dreams are insane and I wake up feeling like I can't breathe. I think I'm done with that but, I'm just so sick of going to the doctor. Sigh. I hate being monitored. My other thoughts are why do I still feel so violent or have violent tendencies. On some strange level I sort of enjoy them. My mind feels clearer and I feel more alive. On another level it's just not cool to have the thoughts I do and the logic that comes with them. It makes me wonder- where is the line between this is just in my head and I am going to pull some of these stunts. H. thinks I need to talk to the doctor and therapist about this. Problem is these violent thoughts are not about the baby, that's not really a problem it's just not in with PPD. They are whenever or wherever about whoever. Woe to you who cuts me off in traffic as I have visions of cutting you to ribbons while your family watches. I would hate to be thought of as a sociopath or something. I can just see it now, I confess to these bizarre thoughts and ideas and suddenly my neighbor is on the 6 o'clock news saying- "She just seemed like such a quiet person, so kind and thoughtful. We had no idea a monster was living next door to us. That poor husband and baby...." Cut to a very unflattering mug shot of me in an orange jumpsuit which is actually a good color on me.

Good news or a curse? I got my laptop today. Finally. Now is this going to bode good or bad for me. I sincerely hope I am not expected to take this home each night to continue working because that is just not going to happen. This is for emergency purposes ONLY! If T.D. is sick and I have to stay home, etc. Not if I just want to squeeze in a bit more time on a program. Ick.

Product of the Week!

It's Monday, and I have my product of the week to share. This week it's Bobbi Brown's Buffing Grains for your face. Or wherever else you feel you need to slough. I like this product a lot as I feel it really exfoliate my face and makes a difference. It's a bit pricey, about $40 a jar. The drawback with the item is the glass jar. I keep it in my shower on a shelf and mix it with my cetaphil each time. Slippery hands and glass in the shower equals future visit to emergency room for cut foot or some other body part. I envision this each time I use it but I love it so much I risk it. I do love living on the edge. So if you need a good exfoliator give this one a whirl.

On the Poop Front

If you're a regular reader you know that recently H. gathered up all the baked crap and fresh as well from our yard and surrounding area and placed it nice and neat on our neighbors front step. We wondered if there would be retaliation- picture me checking the door handles each time I go into the house-but so far nothing has happened. Saturday, I went to a party for our neighbors daughter and the offending couple was there. I felt incredibly awkward and two-faced as I chatted with them about home repairs. At one point I noticed the male side of the couple look puzzled as he sat alone. I wondered to myself- is he thinking- how can she smile and be nice to us after putting crap on our step? Or was he thinking - Who in this room put the crap on our step. I would like to think the latter one. Throughout all this as I chatted them up all I could think was the word- POOP! Screaming in my head. I felt like it was a neon sign blazing and blinking on my forehead. I don't know if I can have a normal conversation with them ever again.

Staking out the Safeway

I was in line at the grocery store this morning picking up "sick fuel" for H. He has T.D.'s cold now and needed the usual dayquil and soup run to be made. While waiting I am perusing the magazine headlines when at the very bottom of the rack I see this gem - "Deadly Manfish Terrorizes Beachgoers!" There's this black and white (super-imposed of course) photo of a giant "manfish" coming out of the water as people in swimsuits circa 1950 are running for their lives from the surf. I just wondered who buys this stuff?! I need to just hang out at the Safeway all day and see if anyone actually picks one up. I find it embarrassing when I'm all pmsy and can't resist a US Weekly or In Touch magazine, but that one? Yeesh.... it's the same rag that comes up with the further adventures of Bat Boy every few months or World's Fattest Baby. I REALLY want to know the type of person who buys these. I have my ideas but I almost wish I could be proven wrong. Any guesses out there?

Today is June 16th, as noted above. It's also Tupac Shakur's birthday. Some of you out there might know that I'm a crazy Tupac fan. Let's all take a moment of silence shall we and remember that talented man. Ah, that's better. R.I.P. brother. Pour one for your homies. Tell me - can you rest in peace if you've been shot on the Vegas strip and no one knows who did it?

I hate to admit this but I DVR'd the Britney Spears interview on Dateline last night. There's so little on T.V. right now it's gotten to this. H. told me last night the sheer fact that I taped MTV's 'The Hills' was grounds enough for divorce. It's exceptionally bad taste like the Britney interview but I need my crack... er crap tv. Anyway, if you caught the interview you'll know what I'm talking about when I say this. Ok, girl you made bubble gum pop come back in the late 90's but it's 2006, you ARE NOT 14 anymore- so why does your makeup look like a 14 year old's or like a teen-ager did put it on for you? Geez... Her hair, her make-up, that pink bra that obviously didn't fit along with the gum snapping and jean skirt all made her look like she could give Jaime Pressley's character Joy from 'My Name is Earl' a run for her money. It was the opitomy of trailer trash chic. Gaaawww as Brit might say. I have to say I do feel for her in the sense that she can't get any peace and we as parents all make mistakes. If someone had a camera on me half the time they would see me do things with T.D. that I wouldn't want anyone knowing about. It's not like I'm all Joan Crawford on her or anything but we all do things others might not agree with. K-Fed is like that husband of your friend's that no one likes but we all put up with or at least that's how he strikes me. It was like a train wreck with the tears and the dumb sayings and I just could not stop watching. There better be some incredibly stimulating documentary on this summer or I'm going to get sucked into watching more vapid crap on tv and becoming brain dead.

Lazy, Bad Mommy!

T.D. has a cold. A nasty one. I picked her up from daycare yesterday and she was sound asleep but covered in crusted snot. Just what you wanted to read as you were sipping your morning Nescafe huh? I just know it's that snot-nosed (literally) kid Cooper! That kid has green snot coming out of his nose 24/7. It's disgusting to put it mildly and makes me have to fake smile at him each time he greets me at the door when I pick T.D. up. All I can think of is- WHY? Why do you always have green snot coming out of your nose kid?! Can't they do something about that?!? I remember my days in daycare and we had Jesse- he of the sun yellow Looney Tunes lunchbox. He was the snot-nosed kid in our class. He was also the rampant hugger. You know that kid- the one that latches on to anyone and everything and violently hugs them. He was the subject of much taunting and wisecracks by my crony E and I each day on the playground. Jesse loved violently hugging E best of all.

I just got way off track there. Forgive me. I'm a bad, lazy-ass Mommy. If you've been doing your reading this week you know that T.D. has not been herself. Now we know it's the cold that was doing it but still that doesn't make me any less tired. These midnight and more wake ups have been wearing on us both. Last night after a nice three hour nap by T.D. where I tip-toed around the house getting things done (how we have so many piles of clothes and crap around our house I'll never know. I swear the dog wears our clothes during the day and then puts them in the laundry before we come home.) sick T.D. ate and then played a bit. Played- maybe that's not the right word. More like zoned out in front of the television. No matter what I did that kid would not tear her eyes away from it. She would crane her little bobble-headed neck to some painful looking angle just to catch a glimpse of 'So you think you can dance'. I don't actually watch that show honest! But, it was on and she was riveted. I would turn her and her saucer the other way and she figured out how to move it back! The kid is not even four months old! Her feet don't touch the floor in this thing and she just pushed and pulled her tiny despot body until it faced the t.v. again. Unreal. I finally just gave up and let her watch as the lithe 20-something's danced across the screen in their various bright costumes. I figured- Hey! Maybe, just maybe she wants to be a dancer and the music is good for her math skills right?

Bad Mommy..... I have to get her away from that t.v.

Icky

What on earth was Jenna Elfman referring to when she asked film director John Roecker, “Have you raped a baby?” The “Keeping the Faith” star reportedly asked the question of Roecker when she saw him wearing a T-shirt mocking her religion, Scientology. “It’s one of the questions Scientologists are asked by Scientology leaders when they’ve misbehaved,” a source familiar with the religion explains.

Okaaay.........and why do they ask this question? I need more background here other than just- it's one of the questions leaders ask when members misbehave. What constitutes misbehaving in Scientology anyway? It's not disrespecting other people's furniture or mugging for the camera too much is it?

T.D.'s Reign of Terror

Like any good despot T.D. has developed a few new habits and quirks in the last few days and weeks. These are all subject to change with notice to no one. What good is it being a dictator if you don't have absolute power and say whenever you want right? The first thing I noticed is her Napoleonic tendency to stick one hand underneath her carseat strap. She then falls asleep and looks like a cute resting version of the emporer of such short stature. A cleaner one too. Her newest, the latest and so not the greatest is her refusal of her last feeding. H (as my husband will be called for right now) and I spend precious minutes coaxing her to no avail. She flails about swatting at the bottle and then screaming so loud and hard it's like someone is stabbing her. No night time bottle equals various waking times in the dead of night. It's a nightmare for all of us. I'm starting to think I need to wheel around a caffiene IV drip. Her last and probably the most cute is her washcloth/pink blanket addiction. She has turned all Crispin Glover/Creepy Thin Man on us. Or as H says- just like Matthew Broderick in 'The Producers'! She craves that blanket or washcloth like a good addict should and she's not choosy. Give her any type of washcloth and she's happy. She sticks it in her face smelling it and balling it up, kneading it like a cat while making grunting noises. It can be a life saver for us as well calming her down in the middle of a sticky situation.

Let's hope tonight T.D. decides she needs a night off from her push for ultimate domination and we all get a solid night's sleep. If not, woe to those who drive the highways with me tomorrow morning.

For Ann Marie~

This bouquet is for Ann Marie, my friend from 29. She hasn't been feeling well at all lately and these are her fave flowers. Hope you are feeling better! I miss you and can't wait until you and Marty and the kitties are living in VA!!!

Idea/Opinion

I had an idea yesterday, I was applying my new eye cream (with spf 8) and I thought, Hey! I really like this stuff! I should tell other people about it. So, how about if each week or whatever I post something about a new product I've used? I'm kind of a product whore so there's always something new that finds it's way into my bathroom.

The product of the week (drumroll please!) is: Dove Energy Glow Brightening Eye cream. It's affordable and available at your friendly neighborhood drugstore. I purchased mine online at Drugstore.com thinking- why not? It arrived in the mail and I love it! It's thick but not too thick and really moisturizes and brightens around my eyes. It also doesn't bother my contacts or feel too heavy. So check it out if you are in the market for an eye cream that has spf. You just might love it too!

Oh crap!

Fade in: Talking to a co-worker about non-work stuff when I hear my cell phone ring. Ooh it's 6:45 a.m. that can only be something to do with T.D. I must get that. I look at the screen as it blinks my husband's cell phone number. I answer and he says- I just did a bad thing. I immediately think again it's something with T.D. He lost control and smacked her (she was up at 3:30 and we're both on 4 or less hours of sleep) which is so bad but it was what popped into my head. He didn't sound like it was an accident so I figured he lost his cool or something and had a freak out Daddy Dearest moment. No. Instead this is what I hear.

Husband: (who should be called for the sake of this story my second child) I just did a bad thing.

Me: What?

Husband: I was putting stuff in my car and you know how our neighbors never pick up there dog crap?

Me: Oh no, I'm thinking to myself. Oh no! This is going to be baaaadd. Yes? I answered.

Husband: Well, I stepped in it and there's like 3 piles out there and they have no respect for their neighbors. We've talked to them repeatedly.

Me: WHAT DID YOU DO?! (to myself: what on earth could he have done this early in the morning - they aren't up yet. ) I imagine him pounding on the door of their house waking them to yell at them. Oh no. That's not it though.

Husband: I picked it all up and put it on their doorstep.

Me: (in flames? What?) In a bag?

Husband: No. I had it in a bag but I dumped it out on their step.

Me: (insert screaming of his name!) How could you? I do not want to start a war with them! I do not want to have a feud. (Who knows what they are capable of, not to mention how this complicates relations)

Husband: I know (sounding meeker) But, they've been warned.

Me: Great! Well, this is all on you. I have nothing to do with this and you must deal with it.

This is unreal. They will know it's us as even though other neighbors have commented on it we are the only ones who have said anything. 3 times. First we were nice. Just a "Hey, you know you have to pick that up, right?" Ok, thanks. Second time, "We don't want to be those anal neighbors but you have to pick that up, it's against county laws and not good for the children that run around on our common areas". Third time, "Hey! It's against the law. Don't pick it up once a week. Pick it up each time the dog goes!" They had gotten a lot better, but those three piles and they were right in front of our car. He just lost it. It's not an excuse and it's embarrassing. I'm now going to feel horribly uncomfortable outside in the front or our deck. I already did after the first 3 warnings. He should have just called the Home Owners association.

Why all this so early in the morning? Now I feel like I can't make a move. If the windows are open and T.D. is freaking out, or if we have a party and we are loud they are going to retaliate.

This is so not good. eeeeehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

To be continued...

*************************************************************************************

After some email discussion about said incident above Husband has decided on this approach:

I'm not going to admit to anything. If they ask me about it I'm going to say, "So you didn't clean up your dog's sh*t. You left in out in the middle of the neighborhood, showing no respect for any of your neighbors. Where anyone could step in it at any time, where little kids could step it at any time. So you failed to clean up your unsanitary pile of crap and someone placed it on your front step to clean up? Wow, that sounds like you should start cleaning up after your dog doesn't it"

He really has a good point. They should pick it up. I would love it if one day I could come home and not be greeted by the smell of hot crap baking in the sun all day. Or feel like I'm glaring at them like Damien from the Omen each time they bring their dog outside to "Do it's business!" That's what they yell at their dog. "Do your business!" It's a bit weird to say the least. I'm wondering if they've taught the dog to sh*t on command with that one.

Augh!

That picture pretty much sizes it up. I should have known! I learned a lesson this weekend. Not giving up your precious time. Don't go back on what is important to you. I have just been told that all the work I did was for naught. They are changing things again. What a waste of time, and well not money. My money yes, because I lost the chance to go to the Nationals game. I can't even feel anger. I just feel done in. Sad and a bit frustrated. It's almost like a little voice (the voice of reason perhaps?) is saying in my head- I told you so.

Oof, I am tired today. It was a long weekend in the sense that it exhausted me. Sitting here at my desk I feel as if I never left. Work has slowed to a trickle- for now.
T.D. left us this weekend to go to her Nana's house. She left on Thursday morning and didn't return until Sunday afternoon. It was so strange. I kept feeling like I was forgetting something all weekend. At one point we went for ice cream and I turned to my Husband (who does NOT want to be known as Chocolate Puke Stain, C.P.S. or Hoss) and said- Oh No we left the baby at home! I felt weird driving by the daycare and not picking her up. Walking into her room and the crib being empty and the room being extraordinarily neat. The swing sat unused. By Sunday morning I was relishing laying in bed and reading the paper over a long breakfast but, I so missed her sitting there with us babbling away. I think only the dog was truly content with the whole thing. She had her time with us like she used to all weekend. Napping on us, getting long walks with no stroller and generally having a lot more attention lavished on her like days of old. I'm glad we had this time together, I certainly want to do it again, but I missed her way more than I thought.

This motherhood thing certainly surprises me more often than I imagined. I knew I would miss her but I didn't think I would be as anxious as I was to have her back with us. Of course, two hours into her being home and she's screaming bloody hell because her schedule is now off and it's like she never left!

Bad Lip Synching and Puking in a Trashcan-

Good Morning! It's time to view the latest from Ms. Paris Hilton! Watch as she attempts to dance and lip synch her way through her newest venture-singing Reggae. Aside from the fact that the video is an obvious rip-off of Chris Issak's 1991 'Wicked Game' video, it's yet another train wreck from the heiress and you get to see her underwear. I must admit that the one thing I do love about her (and it's the only thing) is girlfriend does not care that she has small boobs and she's willing to put them out there. She almost pops out of her suit half a dozen times as she vamps on the beach. The dancing is awful as is the song. I find it incredibly hard to believe that's her voice. It sounds like someone else I just can't place. I feel so bad for the crew. I know after viewing this in it's entirety which made me almost have a seizure I tossed my shredded wheat breakfast into a nearby trashcan. I think I burned my retinas.

Anyway, happy viewing. You have to appreciate the fact that there's a short of monkey's having sex after it as well. MSN's attempt at humor?

http://video.msn.com/v/us/v.htm?g=c6919063-5da6-446f-b204-0371bdcbed14&t=s5&f=06/64&p=hotvideo_viralvideos&GT1=8211

P.S. If you get the chance and have the time to waste also view the moonwalking bird. I don't even know what to say about that.

Feel privledged Ms. Lancaster! People are reading your book just because of little ol' me and my plug! People do what I say, they love me! I am a Golden God!

I'm so kidding! I've just had way too much caffiene this morning. Husband (still need to find a clever nickname for him before I turn into Carol Brady) made the coffee wicked strong today. Damn! I'm wired like our crazy Boston. I feel like I could run all morning. I need to get more of that stuff.

Can anyone out there think of a good name for the Husband? If not, the poor man is going to be called C.P.S. or something. Code for chocolate puke stain. I'm sure he'll love that.

Work blows right now. I asked someone if I could punch them in the face today. After that someone actually said I was sweet and quiet. WHAT? They were dead serious. Seriously. WHAT?! The guy said- are you kidding? She just asked me if she could punch me in the face! When was she ever sweet and quiet?! Love it.

Love it!

Did anyone catch the Tom Cruise Cootie article on MSN's Slate today? If not, it's a must read.
Check it out at: http://www.slate.com/id/2143174/?GT1=8295

I laughed myself silly on some of it. Other parts are completely serious. Most of you know how much I despise this toothy, plastic box of rocks. It's beyond his Brooke Shields advice moment. I've always loathed him. Risky Business? Ick, I did not want to see his underpants. He's the same guy in every film. I'm not even going to get into it except the dude can run fast for a short guy.

Oh My Damn!

This is quite possibly the scariest thing I've ever seen. Also, a good depiction of how I was feeling during the worst of the PPD doldrums. Not good is it?

This is Your Future... dun dun daaaaaa!!!

Yesterday I worked later than usual so by the time I got home and finished dinner I was like a zombie. My husband (I really need to think of a good nickname for him because this "my husband" thing is starting to make me feel like some 50's house Frau who quotes everything the Mister of the Manor says) kept telling me to workout. Go to the gym, I'll watch T.D. Or take a walk with or without the dog. Whatever. You'll feel better. I pried my squishy post-baby bottom off the chair and decided he was probably right. I hate when that happens!
I take my trusty Ipod and the dog and we are off. I start with a nice brisk walking pace and it's beautiful outside. It's not too hot or too bright. I meander the streets past my townhouse neighborhood and on into the single family homes in the hilly area. Got to love hills for the squishy tushy. As I'm making my final loop I notice a group of teenagers hanging out on the curb in front of one of the homes. They are all dressed in black, complete with dyed black straggly/shaggy cut hair, leather wrist cuffs, combat boots and Misfit t-shirts. Aaah youth. Keep in mind I have my Ipod on and it's turned up pretty loud. I know my hearing is suffering at the hands of Apple but I won't think about that now I'll think of that tomorrow. The dog is the only one acknowledging them. I'm quite sure they said something like- Cute dog, as I walked past but again, I couldn't hear them. I briefly smiled and let the dog pause a bit. Then, in classic teen fashion they started making Woo-ing noises and yelling at me. What was being said I have no idea because Diddy's Bad Boys for Life was beating in my ears. I know they didn't like me ignoring them. So they are making fun of me so what. But, it got me thinking- I used to be them. I dressed in lots of black. I dyed my hair and thought I, along with my friends, was so deep, dark and tortured. We were a humorously morbid crew in high school and we liked it! One of my greatest wishes in my teenage girl heart was to grow/file a pair of fangs out of my front teeth and sport the undead look. It made me want to turn around, pull out my earbuds and say. Hey, get a good look at me! I'm 30. I drive an SUV, have a kid and husband at home, work in a grey cube and live in suburbia. I used to be just like you! But, guess what you end up right back here! This is your future kids! Get a good look! SCARY HUH?!? And with that all the little Goth kids run screaming into the house. No, seriously I think that every time I see those kids and they think- there goes another breeder. Sigh.

We all think we won't change or trade in our ideas but we do in some ways. It's truly inevitable. Hopefully, we keep that memory though of what it was like and what we were like as kids and don't lose it in all the "seriousness" that is adult life. If I ever do please sit me down in a room and make me listen to Henry Rollins, Souxsie and the Banshees and the Cure and I'm sure I'll come around again. Now, where did I place my fangs?


(Boston Terrier photo courtesy of Rachel Lauer, Toronto, ON, Canada)

Booorring!

I feel so boring these past few days that I actually had a dream last night about picking up laundry off the floor. Yup. You just read that right. I mean come on! Who dreams that kind of stuff?! The worst of it is that it was stressful. I was stressing out in my dream. I would pick up one baby washcloth off the floor only to find a sweatsock and then another washcloth and then a towel. It never ended! I would go from room to room and the damn laundry was mulitplying like Easter rabbit babies! I finally threw up my hands and decided to move on to another task. That would be cleaning bottles. I know you are on the edge of your seat. I can barely contain myself as I type this. The excitement is just too much. I am riveting right? In my dream I found a whole cache of old nasty bottles full of mold and stinking worse than anything you can think of. I could barely open them and wash them.

On another note I'm reading a great new book. Totally different than my last read- Bitter is the New Black by Jen Lancaster (yes, I'm plugging her book and now her blog- Jennsylvania-see side bar). Anyway, this new book is called 'The Book Theif'. It's a good read so far about a girl name Liesel (I would have named T.D. that if my husband had allowed it). Liesel lives in Nazi Germany and steals banned books. What makes the book so fascinating is that it's narrated by Death. Death is not scary or grim reaperish either. Rather he likes Liesel and she's evaded Death a few times and now he can't stop watching her. He's forgetting to collect other souls despite a whole World War that is raging. He likes watching her steal and fight for her life in Munich. Who doesn't love a good Nazi read either? You know I do.

Til next time....

Sticky Cigarette Butt Mess

Also known as my 30th birthday party. I had my 30th birthday party this past weekend. It was a blast. Thank you to all those who came out and helped me celebrate and tie one on. It was a lot of fun had by me and I hope everyone who came out. You can usually tell a party is good by how late people stay (4 a.m. to the deck crew) and the aftermath/clean up the next day.

Or how gross your bathroom is the next day. Suffice to day- pretty damn gross. I heard from guests earlier in the night that my dear husband had gotten sick on the floor but it wasn't until the following day when the harsh light of reality comes blasting in did it really become noticable. It wasn't too terrible but I'm wondering if we'll ever get that chocolate pound cake puke stain off my carpet. I wonder if my clothes smell like vomit as he spent most of the day on the floor of our closet with the door glued shut because - "it's dark and for some reason I have a horrible migraine". Uh-huh. I wonder what from?! Maybe it was the delightful and oh so smart drink concoction of coronas, gin & tonic. Yummmm! He used my white bath mat to clean up the mess which was also smeared on the mirror. Lovely. I spent much of the next day cleaning up the deck of the empty beer bottles, plastic drink cups and cigarette butts that had fallen everywhere. I found frosting in the oddest places as well as confetti and string. I think I'll be finding that stuff for years to come. I still can't get the pink rings off my sideboard from the shark attack drinks I valiantly tried to master (Thank you to all those of you who were my guinea pigs and said it was a tasty drink). Oh well, bygones. It was all in the name of a good party.

Thanks everyone! So far the 30's rock!

Random

Is Firstly a word? Or is it one of those words that people think is a word and now use and slowly it creeps into our vernacular and everyone assumes it's for real. You know what happens when we assume things right?

If someone sends me an email with my name spelled incorrectly/butchered - do I have to respond to it? Or their request? I think no. See below for common mispellings.

Seriously where do all my socks go after they've left the dryer?

Why does the snooze button go off every 9 minutes and who decided that was a good frame of time to snooze?

Viki
Vikki
Vickie
Vici
Vickiee (what the....)
Vicckeey ( I am so not making this up)
Vickey and/or Vickeyee
Vihkey (my personal fave)

Oy

It is not even 5 a.m. in our house and something strange is going on. There's a noise that I'm not familiar with coming from the nursery. No I'm not going to say that it was quiet. It wasn't. That was the thing. It wasn't quiet and it wasn't crying. It sounded familiar but I couldn't quite place it yet. Then, I knew. Of course- it's the Beatles 'Can't Buy Me Love'. Seems while I was in the shower little T.D. had woken up and my husband decided she needed some mood music. Why not start the day with some of the classics. It made her happy and what is not to like when the tiny despot is sated?

This week has been a blur. After four blissful days off from work and the hectic schedule we keep I feel like the last few days have been neverending. There is always so much going on. Including my last therapy session. I have to say that it's not the most fun thing in the world to sit in a room for an hour and hear repeatedly- What do you hope to gain or get from your sessions? How does that make you feel? Along with the hmmms the counselor produces as well. Sometimes I wonder, am I looking her in the eye enough? Am I supposed to be crying? It's all too much. All this while I tell her that yes, I do feel calmer. Geez.... How come it is that once you begin this process other "issues" come up that you never knew you had? Or anyone else knew you had? According to her my chronic list making (yeah, I make like 4 sets of lists a day on average and post them all over my stuff and bring them home to be promptly thrown out by my husband who sees they all say the same damn thing!) Of course I don't think this is obsessive compulsive and I have no idea why on earth I mentioned to her that I do this but now I'm wondering am I? Do I have OCD? I'm supposed to be monitoring my anxiety as well and mulling over why I have it and if I think I need to be "evaluated". See! It never freakin' ends!!!

I think what I need is a little retail therapy. Seriously. I bought a divine black bag this week and wallet and I have to say I'm still in a state of humming happiness over it. That and the amazing DVF black wrap dress I found at the Rack on Sunday. Quelle suprise and delight to find that dress after searching for it for years! Yes, years! And it fit my post baby body! These things make me happy! That and the zoloft.

Til next time....