August 28th, 2010
Seventeen years ago, this month, we moved into this house. I was about to give birth (four days later), so as the builder-guy was handing over the keys, Mr. X was frantically pulling the pieces to Squirrel’s crib out of the back of his truck. Oh my Lord, was it hot that day and I was freaking HUGE. All I cared about was that:
a.) the baby had somewhere to sleep
b.) the air conditioner worked
c.) my cupboards were lined
I know, like, WTF? Lined cupboards? Because what chore could possibly be more hellish? I ended up losing my ankles during those late night, criss-cross applesauce sessions with wedgewood blue shelf paper and an X-Acto knife. So yeah:
d.) a large, blank wall that I could elevate my puffy legs against
The month of August, this canyon and a full-term pregnancy = fat, sweaty, water retention-filled memories. And I treasure them all. We (Mr X., Snoop and myself) slept in sleeping bags that first night and it was heavenly. So exciting!
I am truly living in my dream house; it has everything I could ever want except for a view of the strip and an elevator to take me down to a sparkly casino. But make no mistake, one day, there will a casino in this house! And here I go, rambling about that place again. Sorry, it’s like that troll Snooki; it just won’t go away!
Anyway, this has been a wonderful home. Over the years, it’s only given us a handful of problems, and all of those problems have been plumbing/water related. Clogged sinks, stopped up toilets (apples, tampons, underwear), you know, the usual. And then came last summer and the master bath issue; a bad water valve that lead to another leaky ceiling adventure. We had to cut huge, gaping holes in our bathroom wall, and bright, pretty, copper pipes had to be soldered, and a nightmare had to be had.
Then, in June, {S Rosa alerted me to “bubbly walls in the downstairs bathroom”. The boys’ tub, located directly above, was leaking and filling the ceiling and walls with water. That fiasco led to this:
Now do you see why I have a Reasons I Hate Water list? Mother Fucker!
So, last week, while Mr. X and I were on vacation, Snoop called to tell us that our water at home has been turned off. KAPUT! FINITO! This caused my husband to freak stress out because HE PAID THE BILL! and placed a a gargantuan black cloud over Las Vegas Blvd. We returned home and, because it was a weekend, were still without the wet stuff. Mr. X took a large, 10 gallon bucket and kept refilling it with pool water, so we could dump it into the toilets to make them flush. I know, it doesn’t get anymore ghetto than that, right?
Monday rolled around, the water was finally back on, and I was just starting to decompress. That’s when I heard water trickling down in the hallway. I knew right away that it was our water heater. I ran to the garage and, sure enough, water was everywhere, By that time, I was just all {S lol because, otherwise, I would have been crying and I had already done enough of that. Luckily, the damage was minimal because I caught it so early. We did have to replace the heater, and that wasn’t financially fun post-vacation, but I was thankful my wood flooring in the hall and laundry room was not destroyed.
People, if you care about me at all, you will say a prayer, knock on wood, tap tap no black magic, and help wish my water woes away. Wait – one more thing: it’s been super-duper hot here. I noticed that my grass was starting to take on a straw-like appearance, so I went to run the sprinklers an extra round and guess what? THEY’RE BROKEN!
August 25th, 2010
The only thing worse than driving home from Vegas is unpacking from Vegas. As soon as I unzip my suitcase, all of that smokey, casino-like goodness is released into the air around me. Then, just like that last meatball on the party tray, POOF! it’s gone. It’s all so depressing.
As always, the trip was wonderful and, as always, it went by way too fast. I swear, if you offered me 2 weeks in Hawaii or 2 weeks in Vegas…well, you know which one I’d pick. I never, ever, ever get enough time there. I didn’t hit any jackpots, but I did score big wins in the alcoholic beverage and food departments, so I wasn’t a TOTAL loser.
Mr. X and I have had to deal with all sorts of sucky stuff over the last few weeks and before we could even check out of our hotel, reality was all too eager to welcome us back. More on that later.
I also came home to my own list of things to take care of and, despite the 103 degree heat, I was able to get a few of them done today. I picked up the boys’ school registration forms (they start on Sept. 13th), got Willow groomed buzzed, made vet appointments, washed all of the rugs, returned emails, dusted all of the ceiling fans and, believe it or not, worked in the yard a bit.
Did you know that gasoline and a wire brush will remove melted surfboard wax from a cement driveway? I know, it was ca-ra-aaazy to work with gas in that kind of heat and I’m surprised I didn’t combust into flames, but it worked and it’s been crossed off the LIST.
I feel like I have to cross everything off of that list while I still can because with my schedule, the boys’ different schedules, sports, etc., this fall is going to be my busiest ever. When I think about what lays ahead of me, my chest tightens up and I start to perspire. Then I get really dizzy. I wonder if that’s what a panic attack feels like? Because I’m really uncomfortable and TOTALLY! in a state of panic.
Thank God we have 3 more weeks of summer left.
August 16th, 2010
This is Tamara. She keeps the both the drinks and the good times comin’. How freakin’ cute is she?! And she’s got the peronailty to match!
Good times!
Brought to you by my beloved BlackBerry. 
August 15th, 2010
“You want flowa? I do flowa, 5 dollar mo.”
Brought to you by my beloved BlackBerry.
August 14th, 2010
Please register and/or login to read this entry.
August 13th, 2010
This is my ride. I’ve had it for 9 years and it’s been the best car I’ve ever owned. I just had it detailed and it looks almost new again. I love it.
Now that I’ve posted this, watch it break down. 
Brought to you by my beloved BlackBerry.
August 11th, 2010
It started first thing in the morning while trying to get Squirrel and Stretch on a plane to Texas. Every summer, they spend a couple of weeks with my mom and dad. For the boys and my parents, it means quality bonding time. For Mr. X and me, it means quiet, unwinding time.
Who am I kidding? It really means Hello, Las Vegas!
The boys’ flight was at 10:30am, so we were on the road to Los Angeles by 7:00am. A little over an hour later, we pulled into the entrance of our appointed parking structure. The ticket machine was being an asshole. There we were: inching forward, inching back (like a gazillion times) – trying to get that machine to spit out a damn ticket and say to the security bar, “Yo, they’re cool. Let these guys through.” But, instead, the machine was saying, “What a bunch of douchebags. Haha! It ain’t happenin’!” Meanwhile, cars were pulling in behind us and were starting to pour out into oncoming traffic. Several curse words and what seemed like hours later, we finally managed to get out and make it to another structure. Only that structure was super far from the US Airways check-in, so we had to huff it and puff it across a bridge, down a walkway and then to an elevator.
Tick-tock!
We finally made it to check-in and we were greeted by a 2 mile long line with only 2 people working the bags. I was ready to hop over the counter and take control, but I just stood there bitching under my breath. My husband took this as a cue (10 minutes later) and stepped outside, only to find an employee who was ready and willing to check us in. The boys and I scurried towards the door.
Tick -tock!
“Where y’all be headed?” the man asked.
“San Antonio. Thank you so much for helping us!” I squealed while handing him my printout. Yes, I squealed. There was a glimmer of light at the end of the strip tunnel, people.
The man took a step back and looked at me as if I had just told him that I was birthing his baby. “No, no, no. You see this here,” he said while pointing to my paper. “Even though this be sayin’ ‘US Airways’, it’d really be ‘United’. I don’t know why they do that. Makin’ it all confusing like. Y’all best hurry. Goodbye now.”
At that point, all 4 of us were ready to divorce each other, smuggle ourselves onto SEPARATE planes, and start new lives in far, far away places. Because that would have been SO much easier. But, nooo, we angrily huffed and puffed again, while dragging luggage, (picture the Amazing Race on steroids) and made our way to the United terminal with a 2 1/2! mile line and only (you guessed it), 2 employees.
Tick -tock!
Mr. X looked at me and mouthed, “These kids WILL make that plane.”
Trust me when I say that I saw $ signs and Corona bottles in those blue eyes.
Just then, the line started to move and, before we knew it, we were at a kiosk punching in numbers. Then this sweet, angelic voice called out, “Let me get your bags.” {S hallelujah
Where she came from, I have no idea, but holy crap, I’ve never been so happy to see someone. This lady, whoever she was, was helping to make my freedom a reality. With minutes to spare, the boys made their way through security and to the boarding area. Mr. X and I hopped on the freeway without saying a word; we were still so tense from it all. When the car clock read 10:20, I texted Squirrel to make sure they had boarded. He said the plane had been delayed 15 minutes. Then I started to worry that they might be at the wrong gate. {S scream
My son kept assuring me that everything was “under control”, and it was under control. The plane was only delayed 15 minutes and they boarded and landed safely in Texas.
My mom called shortly thereafter. “Okay, okay..I know you. And I know you were stressing out, right?” she asked while trying not to laugh. “Just wanted to let you know that everything and everyone is fine now, and you can pour yourself that HUGE margarita now.”
Yesterday was all kinds of bizarre. This entry, all 735 words of it, was just my morning.
August 8th, 2010
This afternoon we stopped by Home Depot to pick up a BBQ cover and some wood chips. Then we headed to an authentic Mexican market that has recently opened in our neighborhood. Mr. X went in and grabbed some stuff for dinner while I waited in the car. As I type this, he’s BBQ’ing onions, jalapenos and chicken. Trust me when I say that this place sells homemade tortillas that are as soft and sweet as candy. No joke.
And while Mr. X is cooking dinner, I am drinking wine and blogging like a good blogger should. I’ve got my own little wine guru at Costco who spies me, rushes over and, while guiding me by the shoulders, religiously says, “Okay, hon. This week you’re trying these.” Then he proceeds to fill my cart with bottles of Nectar of the Gods. Only, last week, he tried to stick a Zinfandel in there and I was like, “Oh, no you don’t!” Nasty.
Long story short, he put 2 of these suckers in my cart. Box Red is 66% Shiraz, 25% Cabernet and 9% Merlot. To say that I was hesitant about buying them would be an understatement. This was because the last time I consumed Shiraz was 2 years ago, during an all night bender with Dee. That early morning night involved a game that consisted of equal parts of Quarters and Name That 80s Tune.
You catch my drift, I’m sure.
Well, color me surprised when I say that this beverage is mighty tasty. It’s smooth and oaky. Meaning – it tastes like wood! But in a good way. And the fact that it’s slightly bubbly when you pour it (think Welch’s Grape Juice) is an added bonus. Don’t let the screw on top discourage or frighten you from trying this! Yummy.
August 7th, 2010
Please register and/or login to read this entry.
February 18th, 2010
Please register and/or login to read this entry.
- 
- 
