Thursday, May 31, 2012

Working At The Beach... You're Kidding, Right?

Oh my dear readers and loyal subjects, this is SOOOOOOO unfair!!!  I am sitting here minutes from the beach.  It's in the low 90's, sunny and clear.  It's a BEAUTIFUL day to be at the beach!  And what have I been doing while I'm down here all day?  Working! That's what!!  Just how did this happen to me?!  The Queen should definitely not be working this close to a glorious beach on a day like today.

Before I get to that though, I wanted to say that I missed you all yesterday.  I wanted to post some kind of little treat for you all but the cosmos conspired against me.  Because of that, I offer you this in apology...

And now back to our regularly scheduled randomness.  So just how did the Queen end up having to work this close to an oh so tempting beach?  And why was she unable to deliver treats to you yesterday?  Well I'll tell you how it happened.  We lost internet at home!  Now, for someone who works online from home, internet... it's a plus.  I have tried running a piece of string between two computers before to see how that works.  I figured if it works with cans, surely it works with computers.  They're metal... I think.  Frankly I'm not sure, but this wasn't one of my best thought out theories, so don't judge.  Turns out it doesn't work.  Computers do NOT work based on vibration.  They work based on magic.  I should have realized.  Now I just need a wand and we'll all be fine.  But in the absence of that, I figured that my boss (Everyone say Hi, Cherie!) would probably prefer that I use one of the more "conventional" methods of internet connection, namely actually connecting to the internet.  So since that wasn't possible at home, I went on an epic trek through rugged country with a pack of friends including an elf, a garden gnome, two flamingos, and my Butlette in search of internet.  Okay, I didn't really do that.  I did, however, drive an hour to MPH's other office down near the beach.  Whilst there, I pirated his internet!!! *big sigh*  Okay, I plugged in where his receptionist usually sits, but don't you all think pirating sounds a lot more exciting? It's been a long day. Work with me here.

So anyway, here I've sat in MPH's satellite office down near the beautiful white sandy beach... sulking... pilfering through his drawers in search of evidence of .... something.  (Of note, I did find a hershey's kiss which is like a bonus.  It's not evidence but it IS chocolate.  And frankly, that's just better... and distracting.  What was I looking for again?)  Incidentally, it turns out that the Optometry office isn't that exciting to explore.  After jumping through all the rooms humming the Mission Impossible theme song as loud as you can then riding up and down on the exam chair a few times yelling "WHEEEEEEEE!" until someone else comes to check on you to make sure you haven't lost your freaking mind, there just isn't all that much to do.  No wait, I also sat in the exam chair with the refractor in place, flipping random levers and spinning different dials while asking myself "Which is better?  One or two?"  (hint:  The real answer is 3... or giraffe... whichever makes your examiner's eye lid twitch.)  On the plus side, I did find this!  Turns out a few Knights have been wandering through here.

So that was my day.  How was yours, dear?  I'll be back down here tomorrow because I've checked in with home and I STILL don't have internet.  S if someone will just bring me a nice blender drink and a bucket of sand to help me get through the day, I'd really appreciate it.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Why Oh Why Did I Leave The Bed Today?

Some days, dear readers and loyal subjects, it just doesn't pay to leave the bed in the morning.  And some days, today for instance, you really should have hidden a bottle of Jack Daniels under the bed the night BEFORE you decided not to leave it.  Because that just makes life more convenient, and I'm all about convenience.  Let's just say that today was one of THOSE days!

This has nothing to do with what I'm talking about here, but it made me smile, and today that's good enough for me!

I'm not sure why it seems like nothing will go right on days like today, but when your dog swipes and LITERALLY eats the package your passports came in less than 2 weeks before you travel internationally, you should probably just resign yourself to the fact that it's not your day.  Why the service that got our Visas for Chinese travel sent that package without requiring a signature is beyond me.  Maybe those at the Chinese embassy are secretly hoping American dogs will eat these packages and keep them from having to actually deal with American travelers.  It would save them the trouble of having to try to figure out the translation of the term "y'all" every time I said it.  Or maybe they heard about my tiara fetish and were willing to give me the Visa but not really willing to let me use it.  I'm really not sure how the Chinese feel about tiara wearing Southern girls.  But of course it didn't stop there.  It was post holiday chaos at work.  Nothing went right. Everyone had problems... to which they wanted ME to supply the answers!  Just who do they think I am?!  Oh yeah.... they think I'm the Queen too.  Hmmm, that might be my problem.  Then just when everything dies down, I realize I'm supposed to be presenting a scholarship at the local high school's scholarship night.  I enjoy that!  It's just hard when I realize about 10 minutes before I'm supposed to be there on a day that I haven't bothered to run a brush through my hair, and when I'm the only one in the house other than three little girls, and I can't reach anyone to come sit with them for me to go!  Yeah, that was a panic moment too.  Their fabulous grandfather made it over in time for me to go tearing through town trying to get to the high school.  I made it!... in time for it to start raining on me as soon as I got out of the car and started making my way to the auditorium.  I can't make this stuff up.  Have you read Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day?  Because seriously!  This was it, people!!!  And if you haven't, what rock have you been living under?!  Go read it!  It's great!

I think I'll move to Australia.  (Read the book.  It will make sense.)

So anyway, that was my day.  How was yours, dear?!  Actually, I'm back home again. I've kissed my sleeping kids, two of whom decided to talk in their sleep and tell me they loved me (That counts for something.).  And I even have a glass of Jack and Diet Coke.  I think I'll head to bed, pretend this whole day never happened and start over in the morning.  This time the Jack is going under the bed!

Oh but just because I ran across a few more funnies, and I'm all about smiling right now, here are a couple other treats.

You're welcome. :)

Monday, May 28, 2012

Ghosts of Sunburns Past

It was Memorial Day weekend here in the states, and the Queen got out in the sun like most others.   Memorial Day marks the official start of the summer season so it was pool, beach and sun time around here.  And this brings us to another annual tradition.... the first sunburn of the year!  Whooohooo!  Okay, the Queen is NOT a fan of sunburns for herself or anyone else.  Please use sunscreen, people!  But I did underestimate the time I spent reading a book in the lounge chair by the pool apparently, and ended up pink anyway.  It wasn't  bad burn... I've been beet red before, but it was enough to make me finish my book inside the next day.  The funny thing was that as I looked at myself in the mirror this morning, I realized that I had a very thin line of white/non-sunburned skin all the way up the middle of my abdomen.  Just how does that happen?!  There was no sunscreen.  I couldn't come up with a position I could have been lying in to make any skin fold there, and yet there it is.  It looks like someone colored me pink then marked on me with a white sharpie.  It's NOT a good look for me, I can assure you.  It's a hardship but I will just HAVE to go without a belly baring outfit tomorrow.  (Okay, I'd have gone without a belly baring outfit anyway.)  It did, however, remind me of a few other interesting sunburns I've had in the past.  As a fair skinned blonde, I've had my share!

When I was younger, I was a wee bit on the stubborn side.  (No, you should NOT make any kind of comment here, MPH!)  In the summer, that stubbornness tended to come out in a refusal to wear sunscreen.  Sunburns were just part of summer.  You knew it was time to take a few days away from the beach when you were too burned to be able to lift your arms over your head to take off your t-shirt. (That only actually happened to me once.  I had to cut the thing off!)  That said, I still managed to get some interesting burns.  I remember the summer that I first got my Elsa Peretti bean necklace from Tiffany's.  I spent a lot of time on the beach that year, and one time I managed to fall asleep lying on my back.  Here's a picture of the necklace.

Needless to say I turned bright red on that occasion but only on the front.  The interesting thing about it was the perfect white "bean" that remained on my neck even after I took the necklace off.  It would seem I lay perfectly still the entire time and that bean never moved.  I got asked a fair number of questions about just what that white spot was, and let me assure you the necklace is much more attractive than the sunburn pattern it leaves behind!

Then there was the year in graduate school when I decided that I had a goal after my last exam in the spring.  I was determined that I could take my final morning exam fast enough to hop into my convertible, drop the top, race the two and a half hours down to the beach and make it there by noon.  I had on a bikini under the sundress I wore to the exam, and out the door I flew the instant after I turned in the exam.  Everything went as planned!  I made it to the beach in record time with only one problem.  You guessed it.  Turns out the sun comes off the black of the highway and really gets intense!  Who'd have thought?  Not me, it seems.  I was absolutely FRIED by the time I got down there!  It was horrific!  You could even tell which side the sun was shining from just by looking at me and how burned I was!  This had been a BAD idea.  I made it to the beach alright, but it was 3 or 4 DAYS before I could stand to be outside in the sun at all, much less actually make it onto the beach!  I think that was the last really bad burn I got.  They've been milder since then.  But then I also learned a really important point about sunscreen, which is:

Preach it!

On the other hand, I think we've all had those burns that you get when you somehow screw up the sunscreen.  You know the ones I mean, where you have one spot that you missed so you have this little bright red patch amidst pale whiteness.  Or you have the opposite, which was more likely to happen to me. Those are the ones where you put sunscreen on someone else and don't realize it when you wipe your hands on yourself.  I've never had a full hand print... and definitely never had someone write anything on me!... But I've had one patch of white in the middle of a good burn where I wiped one finger or something along my leg and inadvertently smeared one bit of sunscreen there.  That's embarrassing enough but worse is definitely the sunglasses pattern in a facial sunburn.  Yes, Kim Kardashian has done it and posted pictures online but you know what?  It looked awful on her too. So there.  

Sunday, May 27, 2012

Happy Memorial Day

I don't have a real post for today.  It's Memorial Day in the US and in honor of that, please thank a veteran or member of your armed services.

The Queen appreciates you all.  Have a wonderful, safe and memorable holiday.

Saturday, May 26, 2012

Wait! Your Birthday Is WHEN?!

The Queen…. is scatterbrained.  I admit it.  It’s always been true.  It’s not like I’m totally unorganized because I’m not.  I can organize like a Goddess!  You just can’t expect it to stay that way.  My thoughts on it have always been that my mind was simply working on too many things at once to keep things neatly structured and compartmentalized.  (You have my permission to use that the next time someone accuses you of being disorganized, by the way.  Get them with the big words!!!)  Regardless, I’ve learned to live in organized chaos.  I have to write everything down if I’m going to remember to do something about it, so my office is practically wallpapered in sticky notes.  But that’s okay!  I know where they all are and what they mean!  With this in mind, I’m going to tell you a little story about birthdays and MPF (My Poor Father).

Now my father has always had an amused understanding of how unstructured my little mind is.  He’s forgiven me for forgetting all sorts of things, including his birthday until a month after the fact one year.  He’s laughed as he’s watched me try to find things… literally like my glasses on top of my head or my phone in my hand.  And he just sort of chuckled the time I tried to explain how a dumpster had jumped out from behind a building as I was backing my jeep up thus causing that awful damage to the bumper.  In fact, once when I came home for the summer from the state wide magnet school for academically gifted students that I attended (I told you all once before that I went to geek school), he asked me what I had learned during the year.  I remember thinking about it and then providing him with this exceptionally accurate pig impression that I had learned from my dear friend, Rachel, just before school had adjourned for the summer.  It may have been one of the few times I actually saw my father laugh so hard he cried.  Face it, dear readers and loyal subjects, he’s just used to me by now.

The time I totally forgot his birthday, I called to apologize (Yes, a month later) from my car.  I was heading out of town for the weekend with my daughters in the back of the minivan and explaining how hectic things had been and how sorry I was that I forgot.  It had somehow just slipped my mind and I few awful about it.  About 15 minutes into the conversation, I suddenly started cursing for no reason that he could understand.  That was when I admitted that I was a good 20 minutes from home and had only just realized that I didn’t have my purse with me.  He was laughing the whole time I was turning the car around and heading back home.  Yeah, he had no reason to doubt my sincerity when I said “I just forgot it.”  So this is what he’s used to with me.

Fast forward a few more years and we get to May 24, 2012.  This year I was ready.  I was NOT going to forget.  I was going to call my father on his birthday like a good daughter and wish him a happy birthday on May 25.  I had it on my calendar.  I had it in the midst of the post-it notes.  I even had an alert set up on my computer.  And that was the night that I got an email from Connie, my step-mother who I adore.  This is what it said:

You missed your dad’s birthday yesterday.  I just wanted to send you an email to let you know.

…Do what?  No.  No, I didn’t miss it because it’s on May 25 and that was the next day, NOT the day before… right?  I checked the date on my calendar.  Yup, it was only May 24.  Something was just wrong here.  What could it be?!  Oh yeah, it could be me!  For all my planning and organization, I had completely neglected to get the actual date of his birth correct.  It’s May 23 instead of May 24.  Oh just greeeeaaaaaat!!  How was I supposed to pull this one out of the fire?!  I’d forgotten before so this was just unacceptable.  Then I had it, and I called Dad.

Dad, rather sleepily (did I mention that I called him late so he’d already be confused?):  Hello
Queen: Happy early birthday, Daddy!
Dad:  Well thank you but…. Early?  My birthday was yesterday.
Queen, in an oh so confident tone:  No it wasn’t, Daddy.  Your birthday is tomorrow.
Dad:  I don’t think so.
Queen, patiently now:  Oh Daddy, you know you get older and older with each birthday.  Eventually the mind goes.  You’re just getting senile.  Your birthday is tomorrow and I am ALL OVER IT!  It’s because I care.  TADA!  You’re welcome.
Dad, laughing now:  Oh is that what it is.  It’s so good of you to point it out and let me know.  Does that mean I get two presents this year?
Queen:  Now you’re just pushing it, Dad.

So there we have it.  It’s the Queen’s fool proof plan for dealing with these little temporal lapses.  Senility… either someone else’s or your own.  If they’re younger than you, you’re on your own.  Really, I can only be expected to help you out so much.  Oh!  And if senility doesn’t work, I still recommend ninja monkeys because we all know ninja monkeys can handle anything.  And by the way, Happy Birthday, Daddy (even if I don’t know when it is).

Friday, May 25, 2012

More Random Stuff... You Have Been Warned

The Queen is a big fan of nature... a REALLY big fan.  I'd like to think that I'm environmentally friendly, but I can assure you that it only takes one poorly planned trip to Walmart to discover that you're environmentally toxic instead!  I am now going on a rant about plastic bags.  If you don't want to hear it, please stare at the following internet download instead.  It is amusing.  You can pick back up again after the paragraph that is helpfully labelled "RANT" and I'm sure you will not notice that you missed anything.  You're welcome.

*RANT*  See?  You thought I was kidding... but I wasn't!  Okay, here's the deal.  I bought all these reusable bags for when I go to the grocery store because I'm trying to single handedly save planet earth from those plastic bags that I always either throw away or self-compact into a single cabinet in my kitchen for use when all civilization falls apart and the only usable currency becomes those plastic bags.  Anyway, I put some in all the cars except, inevitably, for the one that I end up driving to the grocery store or Walmart.  This is what happened today.  So there I stand in line feeling bad because I know I left my reusable bags and I'm going to have to go with the plastic bags because they don't have paper, but if you thought that's as guilty as I could feel, you are sorely mistaken.  You see it turns out that I got the cashier who has some kind of OCD obsession with DOUBLE BAGGING EVERYTHING!  I realized she was doing it with the big items like milk and sodas, and I just kind of let it go even though she was doing it wrong which I'll get to in a minute.  And because I sense you asking it, yes, there's a wrong way!  Anyway, I finally realized that she was apparently double bagging everything!  I'm not really clear why a bag of green beans needed double bagging, but she seemed to think they did.  Those suckers are heavy and sometimes make a break for it in the car, apparently.  Last thing you need is a whole troop of green beans marching in formation around your car while you try to drive home.  It's dangerous as the bejeezes, people!  Hence her diligence at making sure they were properly contained in not one but TWO plastic bags!  (I'm trying here, people, and that's really about all I can come up with.) Finally I couldn't take it anymore and begged her to stop. I swore to her that one bag would be enough, and I'd be okay.  I promised her I'd handle any consequences and breakage on my own, and that seemed to help.  She quit doing it, but she did keep looking at me suspiciously, like maybe I was going to dump all my produce on the ground then blame her and the lack of a double bag.

*RANT CONTINUES (Yes, it's more than one paragraph.  We'll all deal with it)*  Now here's the kicker.  She was double bagging everything in the following manner.  She'd put everything into the first bag, pick that bag up and put it into a second bag, and then she'd tie the handles of the first bag to hold everything in.  After that, she'd pick up the second bag by the handles and hand it to me.  I would like to point out that that process reduces the whole thing to a single bag using a single set of handles.  The inner bag just holds content but doesn't increase strength because the handles aren't being used.  I realize I'm geeking out here but do you see my point?  I've just killed the entire environment just by finding this one cashier who double bags without realizing the physics behind the purpose of double bagging and by not having my reusable bags!  I'm currently looking for an environmental activist to take my confession and give me penance.  You all let me know if you know one.  *END RANT... whew!*

Okay, so back to my non-rants about random and sundry things that I've run into during the day.  Oh let's go with this one.  I think that nearly every woman in the world has some sort of issue with her body.  No one thinks they're perfect even if everyone else in the world thinks they are.  Personally, the Queen is curvy.  And there's nothing wrong with that. I'm healthy but will never be stick skinny.  Sometimes that bothers me more than others.  I ran into this today though and realized that it sums up my thoughts on body image in general.  I think we'd all be happier if we just learned to be happy exactly how we are.  That and I think I should have some more dessert.  So here it is.

I'm weak, and a cupcake will win over any dietary plans every time!

This next one is in honor of my children... and their friend who taught them how to dress up my cat, Sabrina.  Sabrina TRULY does not appreciate this.  She's three years old and only recently was she forced to suffer this indignity (because I was unaware it was happening, naturally... for which she has yet to forgive me).  But on behalf of Sabrina, I think this really does sum the whole "dress up your cat" scene nicely.

This is for you Sabrina-Boo!  I feel your pain. And I got you some cat nip to make up for it.  It's the good stuff!  (Because I'm not above bribing my way back into her good graces.)

And last but not least, I wanted to bring you this last one. Why?  Because that would TOTALLY be me on that phone!!!!  You have an insane idea?  It'd be fun?  It'd be funny?  I'M IN!!! Whoooohooo!  

Now go and enjoy your holiday weekend!  Thank a service member if you get the chance.  I'll even be extra nice to MPH this weekend.  He does his part too.  Have fun!!!

Thursday, May 24, 2012

The Not So Weekly Random Update

Yes, it's that time again, dear readers and loyal subjects.  It's time for all the random crap that I run across that amuses me to be held up for your personal enjoyment.  What you really need to imagine here is me sitting beside you showing you each thing and squealing "Can you believe this?!" Because that is TOTALLY what I would do!  Well I would do that and then try to talk you into buying me a venti latte at Starbucks because the caffeine high makes me uber happy!  It's not pretty but frankly, I have no shame.  Anyway!  This week I found a few funnies for you that just didn't really fit into their own posts, so without further ado, here we go!

First on the list, I have finally found the minivan for me.  Don't get me wrong, I already broke down, surrendered my cool card and bought a minivan years ago but I'm upgrading.  Bring back the cool points! This minivan is for me!

Because Animal is never NOT cool!

Next we have the google key word searches that led people to the blog this past week that made me giggle.  I swear I am not making these up:

1. Grabbing huge ass - I can't even BEGIN to figure out how this led MULTIPLE people to this blog.  You know, I can usually hazard a guess but here... I got nothing!

2.  Ninja monkey - This one just makes me smile because ninja monkeys ROCK!  I'm still looking for one of my own.

3.  pictures of the pterodactyl - this one seems benign but it makes me laugh to think of some confused kids just trying to find really cool pterodactyl pictures who ended up at my blog instead.  Sorry kids!!!

This next one really makes me smile!  It's official.  I have won.  I was notified by one reader earlier this week that she laughed so hard while reading the blog that she actually had an episode of incontinence.  She told me she had to get up out of bed, take a shower, and change clothes.  As a result and as a gift to all our new readers, the blog now comes with a complementary pack of Depends Adult Diapers!  You're welcome.

And here we have words that someone apparently forgot.  Ready?  Drowning is NOT funny.  I have no idea why it is to these people but truly, they should have some decorum about it!  Either that or someone should really rethink this graphic.  (By the way, thanks to George Takei for this one.  If you don't follow him on Facebook, you are seriously missing out on the funnies!)

And finally (Not really. I'm lying.  I do that.), I would like to share the lesson on stress management that was sent to me by one of my wonderful colleagues from work.  Thank you Sylvan!

Picture yourself near a stream.
Birds are singing in the crisp, cool mountain air.
Nothing can bother you here.
No one knows this place.
You are in total seclusion from that place called the world.
The soothing sound of a gentle waterfall fills the air with a cascade of serenity.
The water is so clear you can easily make out the face of the person whose head you're holding under the water.

There now, feeling better?

And this, you wonderful people, leads into my last picture to share.  Here it is, and it's oh so very true for me!  I hope you all have a great day!

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Ghost Porn - Only At My House

It's been a very weird day.  Things have gone wrong, and things have gone just... paranormal!  It would appear that my house is haunted.  And it seems the ghosts are flat out horny!  Who ever would have thought it.  Honestly, I'm just was just glad to know that there's even more sex in the great beyond.  That seems a lot better to me than just wandering ghostly through a house moaning "Ooooooooh" without a really good reason.  But maybe that's just me.

Some days I really wish I knew how to work Photoshop or something.  I'd TOTALLY have this little guy going all "Oooooooh!" and everything!  You know I would!

Anyway, the whole thing started strange and just got stranger.  I was minding my own business and working hard... REALLY hard, tirelessly even in my home office (Everyone say hello to my boss... Hi, Cherie!) when Juli, our nanny, came in to tell me about a couple of urgent issues.  One involved picking my daughters up from school, but the other... well, I'm not even certain how to classify the other.

Juli:  There's porn on in your room.
Queen:  Wait... what?
Juli: There's porn on in your room, and it's loud, and it's about time for the girls to come home.
Queen:  Ummmmm.... what?  (This was said in the most intelligent way possible, I assure you.)
Juli, who now speaks slower and louder: There's Porn On In Your Room.
Queen:  How the hell is there porn on in my room?! There's no porn in there!  And if there were...which there's not.... it certainly wouldn't just be on by itself!  I mean, I'm married to the one man in the world who doesn't even WATCH porn!
(Granted MPH, My Poor Husband, HAD just been home but still, he's really not a porn addict.  If he has any I don't know about it.)
Juli:  I'm just saying that there's loud porn on and it's coming from your room.  And it's the same thing over and over.
Queen, now even more confused: WHAT?!

Juli starts to say it all again but I give up, stop her, and decide to go investigate.  I go tearing off down the stairs to find out what the heck is going on in my room, and I get there to discover.... my room.  It's dark.  It's quiet.  The TV is off. No one is there.  And there's definitely no porn.  And I'd know porn if it bit me, people!  Not that I'm advocating for porn to go around and bite people.  I'm just sayin'.  Anyway, Juli's standing at the top of the stairs when I come out of my silent bedroom and starts insisting that "It just stopped!"  It just stopped.... riiiiiiiight.

Queen:  There's nothing in here. The TV is off, and the computer isn't even in here.  Where did you hear it again?
Juli:  It was at the bottom of the stairs coming from your room.
Queen, giving Juli a speculative look as she tries to figure out if Juli has found her Jack Daniels stash: Well, there's nothing here now.  Maybe it was ghosts!

And then we had our obvious explanation.  Ghost porn.  Why did I not think of it sooner.  My house is haunted and they're just horny.  I'm really not sure how I feel about ghosts having sex in my bedroom though. That seems a bit overly intrusive to me.  I'm not sure that they were using my bed, but does it really matter WHERE in your bedroom they're doing it?  I'm not sure, but it bothered me the rest of the day.  Finally MPH came home and stopped by my office. I just had to tell him about the horny poltergeists!

Queen:  We have ghosts having sex in our bedroom.  It was ghost porn!  Juli said it was loud.
MPH:  I know. I heard about it from Juli.  It was my phone.
Queen, not for the first time today: What?
MPH: It was my phone. I left it in the bedroom.
Queen:  You have ghosts having sex on your phone?  Why would you have that?  Is there an app for that?
MPH, looking a bit sheepish now: No!  It's that ringtone.

And then it hit me.  Yup, this is MPH's fault.  You see a while back he decided he was funny.  He downloaded a ring tone made from that one scene in When Harry Met Sally... the moaning one... you know the one...It's this one! Click me!  Yeah, THAT one.  He downloaded it and set it to MY phone number and thought it was hysterical.  Naturally I made him change it.  I could just see him somewhere like the grocery store, chatting with someone I know and the phone ringing like that.  "One second. That's Cindy," he'd say.  And then I'd have to kill him.  Honestly, I think that's defensible!  People already think I'm weird enough. I don't need him helping me out with it!  So anyway, he claims that he didn't do it but that his alarm is now set to that ring tone.  He'd been home earlier, taken a quick nap (because he's old and the elderly do things like that), and set an alarm to wake him up. It seems he woke up early from his nap and went to run errands while leaving his phone in the bedroom with the alarm still set.  And VOILA!  We have ghost porn... debunked. Which is kind of sad now that I think about it.  I'm sorry, ghosts!

Do you want to know the really weird part?  I mentioned to MPH that I had told Juli that he didn't even watch porn, and he was offended.

MPH: It's like you're attacking my manliness!
Queen: Porn is manly?
MPH:  Yes!  I watch porn!  I don't dislike porn!  I watch it sometimes... I watch it ALL the time!  In fact, I was watching it today!
Queen, with one brow arched:  Oh really?
MPH:  Yes!  I watch porn constantly. I do it at work... and at home... and whenever you aren't looking!
Queen:  Yes, dear.  I'll make sure I spread that information around so you won't look all unmanly anymore.  Yes. You're a porn addict.  I'm so proud of you!

So if anyone asks, MPH likes porn... a lot.  Apparently that's important.  And this is why I fail to understand men... so I don't try.  Though I'm certain he's watching porn right now... somewhere.  Oh  wait! I know! I bet it's WEIRD porn!  I bet it's... you guessed it... PTERODACTYL PORN!  Because we ALL know how impressive and not weird that stuff is.

By the way, I have a side note here. I highly recommend NOT looking up ghost sex on google.  I found out some info from Urban Dictionary that I just can't un-see.  Wait, what?  Why did I look up ghost sex to begin with?  Well, I was trying to find some images to go with my totally innocent post on ghost porn, naturally!  *mutters under her breath* Ya perv.

Monday, May 21, 2012

It's Official. The Internet Is For Stupid.

I ran into this print today on Facebook, and it got stuck in my head.  I have therefore decided to babble on and on and on and on and on ad infinitum about it to you poor people... I mean to you, dear readers and loyal subjects!  I mean really, it's kind of like a public service announcement.  How selfish would I be to constrain my thoughts, which at times run around like a pack of narcoleptic puppies just before they all fall asleep because someone fed them red bull and it's counteracting the whole narcoleptic part, just because you didn't ask to be told it?!  Very. That's the answer.  Very.  I am so much more there for you than all that.  You're welcome.

So anyway, I saw this funny, which is funny because it's true and I thought of you all!  Here it is!

Ready for the public service part?  Okay, here goes.  People on the internet are a) generally idiots unless they're not, and b) frequently not who they present themselves as being!  Okay.  I'm going to let that sink in for a few.... got it?  Ready to continue?  I just knew you were!  So... I personally find that this pops out in several ways.  Why do you suppose they even give people places to comment beneath news articles or informative posts when 99% of the time the comments are either ads for porn or dating sites or they're so vitriolic that I want to wash my eyes out with soap after reading them?!  (Vitriolic... that was an SAT word back in the day. Consider it one more service I provide. You're welcome again.)      It does make you wonder though if people have nothing better to do than to sit there and spit venom on line.  I'm guessing it's because no one will listen to them in real life.  The worse they sound the more I envision a rabid wombat sitting there typing with its claws... but maybe that's just me. These people ultimately make me giggle.

The other way I see it is in those people who pretend to be something that's not stupid only it turns out they're stupid anyway.  I do realize that a lot of relationships start online but I always have to laugh when my friends start telling me about the amazing guy or girl they met online who's invariably either a model or considered modeling but didn't in order to pursue their work as a brain surgeon for the Peace Corp.  Ummmm... yes, definitely that.  I totally understand.  And here's how it always goes.

Before the meeting:
Friend:  Oh but you don't understand.  This is definitely the one!
Queen while picking at a piece of chocolate cake because she loves chocolate cake:  Mmmhmm.  Yes, yes. I'm sure
Friend:  No really!  He was a model in Europe for a while!  He's just gorgeous!!
Queen, apparently lacking in sincerity:  Yes, I understand.  A better model than the last one?
Friend, openly scoffing:  Oh that guy was just a liar!
Queen:  Imagine that!
Friend:  No this one sent me a picture.  It's not from some modeling site either!  This one is a candid with friends, see?
Queen, checking out a group picture:  Ummm, which one is he?
Friend:  That incredibly good looking guy in the front!
Queen:  Well he's definitely model material!  Let me know how it goes.

After the meeting:
Friend (sobbing):  I can't believe he lied to me.
Queen, patting on the back or something while eating her chocolate cake one handed:  I can't either.  You did have a picture and all.
Friend:  Yes but he wasn't the guy in the front!
Queen, mumbling around a particularly large bite of cake:  Oh?
Friend, pulling out the picture: No!  He's this one here!
Queen, leaning in to see: Where?
Friend, pointing: Right here.
Queen:  The one who's in the background by about 3 people and not in focus?
Friend: Exactly.
Queen:  Oh.  You know, that blur doesn't even look like you described him.
Friend:  I know, right?! He said he was tall.  He was maybe 5'8".  He said he was six feet!
Queen, nodding: Definitely not six feet.  Ummm, just for curiosity, what did you tell him?
Friend:  Well I told him that I used to be a cheerleader and that I was about 5'8".
Queen, choking on her cake:  You were a cheerleader in elementary school, and you're 5'4"!
Friend:  Well everyone embellishes a little!
Queen with a big sigh:  Yes, imagine that.

Yes, people, Brad Paisley had it right about that entire aspect of the internet.  Go ahead, you know you want to.  Click to see the music video for Online (Sorry about the ad. Not my fault.)  So the point is that you just can't believe everything you read online.  Unless you hear it from me.  The tiara comes with a vow of truth, you know.  Would the Queen lie to you?!  Did I mention I was a size 4 and 5'10"?  Hmmmm, wonder what my prospects are as a brain surgeon...

Sunday, May 20, 2012

Coffee and Spanx - Tales From a Convention

It was a wild weekend, dear readers and loyal subjects!  Okay, not really but if I make some stuff up (i.e. totally lie) I could make it seem that way.  Overall, it was a state convention for a service organization.  These aren't really known as wild and crazy kinds of events.  But this one did have one advantage over some others. The Queen was there!  I'm not sure that this group of people is ever really ready for me, but I keep showing up anyway.  That deer in the headlights look so many of them get is just too much fun for me to pass up!  Plus there are the people who do "get" me. They always make it worth it.  And they know who they are so thanks, everyone!

I will admit that I learned a few things at this convention.  The first thing is that hotel coffee cups are laughably small.  Add to that the fact that no one ever even really fills them up, and it's a bad combo for someone like me who is really just NOT a morning person.  Yet there I found myself.  It was a few minutes before 8am (an totally obscene time of the morning on a Saturday, I might add) sitting through a breakfast and auction.  Alright, I did enjoy the auction.  I talked about it yesterday, but it took more than one cup of their coffee to wake me up.  From what I could tell 1 cup equalled about 2 tablespoons of coffee or there about.  One cup of that wasn't going to do anything for me.  Oh and one of my friends, Gary I'm talking to you, had the audacity to ask me if I wanted.... DECAF!!!  I almost had a little heart attack right there!  I took one look at him and asked if I looked like a decaf kind of girl!  He admitted that I didn't and finally helped me collect coffee cups which I then demanded ALL be filled with coffee.  That's how I made it through the morning. I was chain coffee drinking.  That's like chain smoking for those of you who don't know, only wetter.  It ended up working so well that I decided to do it again at the formal dinner that night (see below).

This seemed like such a good plan at the time.... if only it hadn't been for the second thing I learned.

The second thing I learned is that Spanx work... sort of.  Oddly this is one of those things that are complete cultural phenomenons that I had never previously tried.  I'd had that little episode with my formal dress' zipper though (click here to read about my formal wear trying to kill me) so I thought maybe it was time help out my next dress... a beautiful blue sheath I had found while shopping the day before, by the way, thanks for asking.  While I was shopping I decided it was time to give the whole Spanx thing a try.  Maybe I'd look like a size 2.  (If you're going to dream, dream big!)  So I very carefully perused the plethora of options and selected something that looked like it'd be nice under the dress I found.  Little did I know it was an instrument of torture!

I got ready for the dinner that night and grabbed my new acquisitions just before it was time to go.  I started off with the Spanx.  Wow!  I thought for a moment there that I was going to need a contractor's license , perhaps a circus aerial act and some rigging just to get that thing on!  Holy cannoli, people!  Was this thing supposed to compress and smooth or fully cut my body in half?!  All I could envision was whoever designed these things cackling with laughter in some back room while counting the fortune they were making and wondering what the hell women were doing to put them on!  MPH sat there straight faced the entire time I was making a scene and trying to get them on.  I was jerking material right and left, grunting and occasionally stomping my foot then finally bouncing up and down in circles around the room as I tried to pull them the rest of the way up.  I happened to look over at him and he was just staring at me wide eyed.  I think I yelled "What?!" at him in exasperation.  It would appear that I had just rendered him nearly speechless!  And let's face facts, living with me the man is pretty much ready for just about any scenario.  It's not like it's the first time I've made a scene!  He finally sucked in a deep breath and asked in an awe filled voice "What are you trying to do?!"  I figured it would be useless to explain it to him so I just grunted again.  Frankly, I don't think I could take a deep enough breath to do much else.  That and I was getting sort of dizzy from the change in circulation this contraption was causing, but I soldiered on!  I pulled on the dress, looked in the mirror, convinced myself that I was looking very size 4-ish and stepped into my heels.  I was ready!

I was so NOT ready!  I found that I could breathe shallowly and that I only turned slightly pink in the face after getting used to the Spanx.  So really that part wasn't so bad after a while.  What was bad was the coffee issue.  You see, MPH and I were sitting at the head table up on a dais.  And as you noticed above, I wasn't about to try to get through the evening without a significant amount of coffee.  The whole thing went rather well through dinner until it was almost time for the speakers to start.  That's when it happened.  I had to pee!  Holy cannoli didn't even BEGIN to cover it!  There I was in my beautiful blue dress heading to the little Queen's room when I realized that in order to do what I'd come to do, I was going to have to get most of the way back OUT of those Spanx... then put them on again!  Oh just shoot me now!  I started to panic about half way there!  There was no WAY I could go through that whole process in a stall in the bathroom.  I'd bounced about halfway around an entire hotel room just getting them on the first time!  I was doomed... DOOOOOOOOOOOMED!  I thought about stabbing myself with a knife and then excusing myself to go stitch my own wound up with a sewing kit from the front desk.  That should buy me both time and some sympathy for when I just never came back.  But I felt bad about leaving MPH there alone... alright not really, but I figured he'd be onto me before I made it far enough for it to be worth my while.  There was nothing I could do. I was just going to have to give it a shot.

Suffice it to say that that was the longest potty break I've ever taken.  I think MPH was about to send out a search party.  Seems he thought I'd finished dinner and made a run for the hills instead of coming back to sit through the rest of the evening.  I did make it back eventually but not entirely as I'd left.  One advantage of having ample cleavage is the storage space.  Fortuantely Spanx fold up nicely and tuck away if you just pitch a screaming fit, jerk them off in the bathroom and stuff them down the front of your dress.  I might not have looked so size 4-ish when I went back into the ballroom, but I had an amazing chest!

Saturday, May 19, 2012

But It's An Auction! I MUST BID!!!

MPH and I are attending a community service club's state-wide convention this weekend.  Conventions are always fun but this one includes a bonus.  There's an AUCTION!  And the Queen just looooooooves an auction.  These particular auctions are for a good cause.  They're exciting.  They're fast paced, and they're totally irresistible to someone as ADHD as I am!!!!  BID BID BID, DAMMIT!

I was an adult the first time I ever attended any kind of live auction.  Now that I think about it, they've all been live charity auctions.  And let me go ahead and say that there are three basic things that make for a successful auction.  1.  Good items up for grabs.  2.  Plenty of Alcohol!!  3.  Some insanely ADHD woman in the crowd who can't stop herself from bidding no matter what you put in front of her.  And now that I think about it, you really only need the last two, but if the alcohol isn't available.... yeah, the insane woman will do.  I know this to be a fact because today's auction was at breakfast and there were no Bloody Mary's to be found.  And you can trust me because I looked!

My first auction was when MPH and I were just dating.  I remember it... mostly.  That time there was definitely alcohol available!  I remember there was a beautiful blue topaz ring that I had my eye on it.  I was subtle about it at first.  Then there was the alcohol... By the time it came up for auction, I squealed from the back of the room and started waving my number like a wild woman.  The auctioneer was a local radio celebrity.  He took one look at me, stated clearly into the microphone "I think I know who's winning this one," and absolutely no one bothered to bid against me.  I guess they figured I'd just run up the price and refuse to back down.  This was likely true.  Or perhaps they figured I couldn't be trusted not to try to follow them home if they did win and I didn't.  Also... probably true.  I still like that ring!

Today I was a lot calmer... well there was no squealing.  What I didn't count on was the sheer volume of material available for auction.  This thing went on for hours!  I was fortunate in that I have no love of Nascar memorabilia so those items weren't tempting.  It was everything else.  There were baskets of food, homemade cakes, baskets filled with cooking supplies (Don't laugh.  It's like cookbooks.  I love them even if I don't know how to use them.), ceramic vases, handmade toy trains... it was just overwhelming. Finally I was yelling out bids and I didn't even know what was up for grabs!  At one point I yelled up "What's in it?!" as a gift basket was presented. I never got an answer but eventually acknowledged to myself that it really didn't matter and bid $30.  I got lucky and it went for higher.

In the end I got a ceramic vase and serving tray.  MPH won some things from a golf tournament that ended up amusing me more.  Turns out that you shouldn't give me a lion's head golf club cover mounted on a golf umbrella.

I went running through the hotel, waving it like a flag, roaring at everyone and making a general nuisance out of myself.  I think I scared a few women who weren't with our group.  Let's face it.  Everyone in our group had been forewarned about me.  My reputation precedes me!  That should probably frighten or embarrass me.  Instead it makes me giggle.  Life is good.  If I'm lucky they'll let me bid on something else during dinner tonight!

Friday, May 18, 2012

Conversations With MPH In The Car - We Should Stop Talking

I just have to start out today's post on a happy note.  I'm off work, in Charlotte and basically have a day to myself. That said, this is what breakfast and writing looks like first thing in the morning:

Yeah, life is good.... now.  But there was a car trip that led up to this!

MPH (My Poor Husband) and I had to head to Charlotte yesterday.  This trip normally takes about 3 hours but we hit horrific thunderstorms that took my usual speed of Warp down to about 35 for an excessively long time.  We're not going to give a little lesson on things that the Queen is just NOT good at.  High on that list is "Sitting Still!"  I get bored.  I'm manic.  My brain won't shut down.  So sue me!  Anyway, I suspect that being stuck in said car with me while I stressed about the rain that I couldn't see through and my brain went faster than the car was probably NOT MPH's idea of a good time.  Here's probably why...

Queen to MPH who was talking on his blue tooth in an otherwise silent car:  You need to get off the phone.
MPH turning to the Queen: What?
Queen louder and a bit slower (sometimes this helps):  You need to get off the phone!
MPH: Why?
Queen: Because I have I've Been Working On the Railroad stuck in my head and I have to get it out!
MPH staring at me then turning away as if that helps him to talk on his blue tooth:  Just ignore her.  She's gone nutso.
Queen:  I'm going to start singing it out loud to you!
MPH now looking panicky:  Don't you EVEN!

At this point I began to hum loudly to the tune of I've Been Working On the Railroad.  After that he decided he should get off the phone.  And just in case you didn't already have this little tune stuck in your head, here it is on youtube!  Go ahead. Click it. You know you want to hear it again.

Now to understand the sheer pain involved in this next little conversation, you need to understand that the Queen is a big music fan.  And if we get to talking about 80's music then, well... the Queen is a psycho music fan!  MPH likes movies instead, and so I try not to massacre any of my movie references around him. You'd think he'd do the same for me.  But no.

MPH while U2's Where the Streets Have No Name is playing:  Hey, is this U2 or INXS?
Queen pausing and taking her eyes off the road to stare at him incredulously because obviously he's from another planet and she just didn't know it until right that minute:  That's U2!  How could you even get them confused?!
MPH, far too calmly:  Well they're practically the same thing.
Queen, getting hysterical:  No they aren't!!!  They're totally different!  The only thing similar is that they have only letters instead of words in their name!  I don't think the Edge would think they're the same either!
MPH: What's the edge?
Queen:  Oh dear lord, I've married a musical neanderthal!   You should have disclosed this sooner!!!

MPH decided he should shut up about this point which was good because I was wondering if I could shove an entire encyclopedia on music and music history or maybe just a crammed full MP3 player into his left ear and have him suddenly learn it all by osmosis.  By the way (because I know he reads this) THIS IS U2!

The second from the left is The Edge!!!!   That's a person, not a "what."

This is INXS!

And for the record, Michael Hutchence is still one of the more beautiful men I've ever seen.  *big sigh*

Now this one I'd lead into but I'm really not sure how.  In fact, I was totally blindsided by it, but apparently MPH was only thinking of my happiness... and yours, actually, when he said it.

MPH mumbling something that sounded like: You need to get a disease.
Queen, who is absolutely certain that she's going to laugh with MPH when she tells him what she THOUGHT he just said:  What?
MPH clearer now: You need to get a disease.
Queen: (long pause) Funny, that's what I THOUGHT you said.
MPH continuing to speak as if aliens had NOT sucked his brain out of his left ear while NOT replacing said brain with music knowledge: It would help you with the blog.
Queen: (another long pause)  How do you figure that exactly?
MPH:  Well your favorite blogger talks about her anxiety disorder and depression, and I think that really resonates with readers.  They've been there. They understand it, and I bet it helps with her blog.
Queen:  (You guessed it, long pause because I can't believe we're having this conversation)  You do know me, right?  I have free floating anxiety already and I'd just as soon it not get worse if that's okay with you.
MPH:  Well yeah. She has that one already.
Queen:  Is that like calling dibs?
MPH:  Exactly.  You need a different disease.
Queen (rather alarmed at this point because she can't help but consider her options):  I could get leprosy.  No one ever talks about leprosy anymore.  I think it's because we have antibiotics now but maybe I'd get the sympathy readers if I started dropping off pieces of my body... kind of like a zombie! It'd get two demographics!  Leprosy sympathizers and zombie lovers!
MPH:  No.  You don't get it.  You need some disease people understand.
Queen:  Leischmaniasis?

MPH: You REALLY don't get it.  That one's no good.
Queen exasperated now:  Well just exactly what disease would you like to give me?!  Chronic fatigue syndrome, maybe?!
MPH: That one would work.
Queen:  I can't believe you want me to have a disease!!!!
MPH:  What?  No!  I don't really want you to HAVE a disease.
Queen:  (long pause again) You want me to have a fake disease?
MPH:  Yes!
Queen:  To improve my blog.
MPH:  Yes.
Queen:  You are weird as shit.

And this, dear readers and loyal subjects, is why MPH and I probably shouldn't have any more conversations at all and why he is no longer allowed to discuss my blog at all except to tell me it's sheer comic genius... even when I make fun of him.  It's just better that way.  On a side note, it's a good thing that man's cute!

Thursday, May 17, 2012

The Kid Has Style... It's Just UNIQUE Style

As the Queen and a mother, there are things that I will accept the blame for and things that I just won't.  I will start out by saying that as far as fashion goes, the Queen likes her some color!  I wear lots of colors, bright colors, alone or in combination.  I very rarely wear something subdued like black, but that's just me.  Let's face it, I've never been afraid to stand out in a crowd.

Now while this is the case for me personally, one of my daughters has developed her own personal sense of style that takes all of that just one step further.  My youngest likes color but she likes patterns even more!  Lots of patterns, bright patterns, and MOSTLY in combination!  This child takes what I find attention grabbing and ratchets it up about 10 more notches.  This is, however, her personal style.  I don't accept the blame for it, but I do let her run with it.  It really is very her.  That said, when I end up out in public with her on the days that she indulges in her own fashion forward style, I find myself telling complete strangers "I didn't dress her this morning."  Do you suppose this is how Lady Gaga's mother felt?  Now that I've said that, I realize you're all envisioning a 6 year old wearing a meat dress and since that's taking it a bit far, only because I've never let her SEE much less CONSIDER a meat dress, I figure I should show you what I mean.

This is Caroline.... in a tree.  This isn't exactly normal.  Well, I mean she's normally Caroline but only sometimes is she found in trees.  Regardless, she definitely picked this particular outfit out herself.  The top is white with pink polka dots, hearts and scotty dogs (I'm not really sure why the scotty dogs are pink.  Perhaps they fell into a vat of pink food coloring while they were on their way to play scotty dog golf or something. Who really knows?).  The skirt is patch madras plaid, and the tights.... well, they're multicolored stripes.  Do you see what I mean here?!  (I have come back to add in a caveat.  This is the same child who won't wear what I pick out for her because she says it "doesn't match!"  I'm just thinking what the hell?!!!)

And here is what happens when she takes a sick day.  This isn't what she slept in overnight.  This is what she chose to spend her day at home in.  Frighteningly she's not entirely to blame here.  The polka dot top and striped bottoms really are supposed to go together.  Those socks though... all her!  Clearly I'm dealing with a budding fashionista.... of some sort!  I really am keeping an eye on all the meat, though.  I'm just not prepared to deal with that as an outfit.  I'm pretty sure she'd paint polka dots and stripes on it before she'd wear it, but I don't really want to find out.  Some things a mother just doesn't need to know.  But we have time for one last one!

Here's my baby striking a post while wearing one solid color and Mom's sunglasses.  It's definitely tame for her but it does make me realize something.  Yeah, she's going to be a rock star... just like Mommy!!!  You go, Baby!

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

My Formal Wear Is Out To Get Me!

My formal wear is out to get me.  That's really all I can come up with. It's some kind of nefarious plot perpetrated by the designers of formal dresses to completely unsettle me.  These people used to be my friends!  I swear they did, but something has obviously happened to turn them against me.  I didn't really know about it until today when I decided to try on my formal dresses to figure out which one I would wear for an event on Saturday night.  That's when all of this evilness came to light!

Me in my natural environment back when cocktail dresses still liked me.  Yes, I'm on the computer in a beaded gown.  These things happen.

Today I had a few options to choose from.  I don't get out to formal type events all that often anymore but I do still have a few dresses that work for when I do.  My first choice really didn't go well at all.  I'm not sure what kind of weirdness was at work, but how can a formal gown look so simple, elegant and beautiful on the hanger and then suddenly produce a flashing neon sign that says "I Gained 10 Pounds" the instant I put it on?!  Really!  That'd can't possibly be natural!  Regardless, that's basically what that particular gown did.  I looked liked like a stuffed snausage.  I looked at it for all of 30 seconds before I decided that WASN'T the look I was going for.  Honestly, my boobs looked like they'd been stuffed so tightly in that if I took one deep breath the whole dress was going to just blow and the shrapnel from it would do Lord only knows what to anyone within about a 20 foot radius!  Death by boobs.... that just has to be embarrassing to put on the death certificates!  I sort of feel it's my duty not to put anyone through that sort of indignity.  I'm a given.  You're all welcome.  So yeah, it was both unflattering and a hazard to life and limb.

I had a second option, a little black cocktail dress that was always a good stand-by.  I gave up on my dreams of wearing the first gown and just grabbed that one.  All was well until I had some trouble zipping it up and realized the zipper had broken and was unfixable in its current state.  I would like everyone to note that I figured this little tidbit out with the dress zipped nearly all the way up... and it wouldn't zip back down.  It's pretty fitted on the top and I... was stuck!  There I stood in my bathroom, dress partially zipped and far too tight to go either down over my hips or up over my boobs.  This was seriously a no win situation.  So I did what any perfectly rational woman would do... if that rational woman had thought of doing this and absolutely nothing else....I jumped up and down, shrieking in fury like a banshee, screaming threats of death by completely outlandish methods to everyone in the high fashion industry (or any of them that I could reasonably locate within the next 20 minutes or so), and cursing up a blue streak!  And I can assure you, dear readers and loyal subjects, the Queen can come up with some incredibly creative curses.  I even cursed the makers of the most delicious chocolate toffee treats that my mother sends me from out in Colorado. Surely this was all their faults!  Seriously, I was mad enough to spit on a goat!... if I had a goat...and if that weren't unhygienic... mostly for the goat... alright on second thought I wouldn't have spit on a goat because it's pretty gross but I was willing to yell and threaten to!

It took me about ten minutes of stomping my foot and working with that broken zipper to get it back down far enough for me to escape the dress of death.  I swear it was like Cthulhu had me and wasn't letting go.  And I'd always liked that dress!!!  I got back into something comfortable again and stormed out of the house, car keys and purse in hand.  MPH (My Poor Husband) took one look at me, mouthed a little prayer that HE wasn't the cause of me being in such a state, and asked:

MPH: Where are you going?
Queen: I'm going shopping.  
MPH looking at his watch since it was about dinner time:  What?  Now?  Why?
Queen:  Because I've gotten fat and my formal dresses either won't fit or the zippers won't work!
MPH: (Long pause as he tries to figure out some way of responding to any statement wherein I have announced that I am fat without being killed for whatever response he comes up with.  This is really a damned if you do and damned if you don't scenario in my world... so it was a REALLY long pause) Ummm, okay.  Would it be bad for me to ask you to bring back something to eat for dinner on your way back?
Queen:  (Long pause as I considered killing him by any number of methods just to make myself feel better then considered again) Well... not really McDonalds or Taco Bell?

Maybe I should have cursed the people at McDonalds and Taco Bell, but honestly it was getting late, I needed to buy a new dress, and I really was sort of hungry.  On the bright side, I did get a cute new dress.  The zipper even works!  Now if I can just find some new SHOES!!!!