It's A Simple Question, Really

The Queen can be a complicated woman, dear readers and loyal subjects.  This one of those things that I accept... mostly on behalf of those who live with and love me.  Frankly, if you hang around with me long enough, it's something you just come to terms with.  Most people are pretty good about rolling with the punches.  At least this is what I thought.  Apparently there are simply some days and some questions that those around me are not prepared to deal with.  Today was one of those days and I found one of those questions.  It started out simply enough.  MPH (My Poor Husband) and I were in the kitchen at lunch when I asked what seemed to be a simple and straight forward question:

Queen:  Have you seen Nigel, my gnome?

MPH:  Have I seen Nigel, your gnome?  Is that really the question you just asked me.

Queen (considering first in case it was a trick question):  Ummm, yes.  That was the question... Have you?

MPH (covering his face with his hands):  Other wives don't ask this sort of thing.

Queen: Of course they don't.  Nigel is MY gnome.  I'm sure they have gnomes with different names.  

MPH:  Yes, I'm sure that's it.

Queen: Does that mean you haven't seen him?

MPH (groaning): And just what does Nigel look like?

Queen:  Well he's about a foot tall.... but mostly he's a gnome.  I don't have another one so if you've seen one... that's him.

MPH (sighing): No.  I haven't seen your gnome.

Then Hanna, our au pair, made the mistake of coming into the kitchen.  Tired of MPH's obvious ignorance as to the whereabouts of Nigel, I turned to Hanna.

Queen: Hanna!  Have you seen Nigel, my gnome?

At this point Hanna, who's usually pretty nonplussed about anything I say or do... to her credit it didn't phase her at all that time I suddenly pulled out a pair of fuzzy leopard print handcuffs and started cuffing myself to things around the house and asking her to take pictures of me that one time (you can check out her photography skills by clicking here)... stared at me for a second then immediately turned to MPH, apparently in an attempt to figure out the correct answer.  Unfortunately for her, he just shrugged so she turned and told me that she hadn't.

Now, as far as I can tell, I asked a simple enough question.  Have you seen my gnome?  How hard is that one?  I even told them his name!  I was being all kinds of direct and helpful!  What was the problem?!  Mostly the problem seems to be that Nigel is missing and I wasn't sure where he'd wandered off to.  But it did remind me of a book I'd seen...

Yup, this is the one.  They really do have books for everything, people.  It's interesting too.  It's sort of like Night of the Living Gnome... without the brains parts.

Anyway, this is how my afternoon and evening quest to find Nigel started.  To my credit, I did know who I really should have asked... the baby.  The baby has taken a liking to several unusual possessions of mine.  She stole Nigel a while back and put him in her room.  She also took my gargoyle, Brutus.  In fact, I could ask HER for either of them simply by name and she'd know exactly who I was talking about.  She  may not like rabbits, As you can see by clicking here, but she does like gnomes.  Actually, it may be the fact that the gnome has a motion detector in him and plays this horribly annoying electronic version of It's A Small World when any motion is detected.  (At least he did until I stole his batteries to make him stop.)  So after having no luck searching her room and the rest of the house, I waited for her to come home from school.  And my wait was rewarded!  One simple question to her and she told me exactly where he was... in the TV room... on the exercise bike.  Why didn't I realize that's where a gnome would be?!  Silly me.  After that she and Nigel and I spent the evening together letting Nigel get reacquainted with the rest of the house.  Here's where he visited...

This is one of the bookshelves in my offices.  Gnomes LOVE bookshelves!

After he had his fill of the books though, he wanted to spend a few moments getting reacquainted with Seymour... my plant.

This shot let me know he was spending far too much time with the kids in general.  Apparently Nigel has become addicted to Angry Birds while I wasn't paying attention to his habits.  Gnomes... they just love video games.

According to the baby, they also like to be worn as hats.  Who knew?

After a long day of exercise, books, videos and hat impersonations, though, all good gnomes prefer to spend some time just shooting the breeze with the fairies.  Nigel is no exception.

Then as the end of the day rolls around, Nigel likes to be tucked in bed with the remote to veg out with the TV before going to sleep.

I don't know about you people, but a gnome's life seems to be a pretty good one to me.  And as far as Garden Gnome attacks, I'm pretty sure we don't really need to worry about any of that.  Now then, where did Nigel get to?

It's Game Time!

Tonight on the blog, we have a special treat!  It's GAME TIME!!!  That's right, dear readers and loyal subjects. We're going to play a game!  Alright, now I'm looking for participation here but I'm going to go first.  The name of this game is What's On YOUR Desk?!  And it has rules!  Okay, it's a little more free form than that.  Not really rules.... more like suggestions!  And by suggestions, I mean that you can do as you please and cheat to your heart's content!  Everyone ready for the rules/suggestions/cheat ideas?  GREAT!  Because here's the deal.  Have you been to a baby shower or wedding shower or possibly a combination of both and played that game where everyone has to say what's in their purse?  Well this is just like that but without the wedding or baby or an actual purse.  Instead the idea is to tell what's on your desk.  For instance, since I'm going first, I'm going to let you all in on some of the little treasures that live on my work desk.  Since I work from home, I have a LOT of latitude (as you'll see) as far as what lives on my desk.  But it's a big desk so there's lots of stuff.  So I'll do my desk and you tell me about yours!  Honestly, this is a logical extension of the other random things I tell you all... like that time I shared the weird pictures I found on my phone's camera roll. Click here if you don't remember that.  So with that kind of sound logical reasoning behind our game tonight, I give you... without further ado... my desk!  And here we go!

This... is my desk:

Now that I look at it, it really does sort of look like a Where's Waldo picture, doesn't it?  Well with that in mind, I'm going to tell you what some of these things are!  Ready?  Great!

In the center of the desk, there are:

 2 computers and a third computer screen attached to one of them.

Sticky notes that tell me all sorts of important things I need to remember for work, for my kids, and there are three (1 from each daughter) notes telling me that I am the "most best" mom EVER!  That's because I totally am.  I feed my kids ice cream for some meals.  I deserve those notes!

The requisite pictures of the kids and everyone I love... and one of me and Jane Goodall just because I'm cool and I have one!  So nyeh!

On the left side there are:

 books on writing, notebooks containing work information and spiral notebooks for me to keep track of "stuff" in.

There are DVDs and CDs stacked in a couple of places that include everything from Bette Midler's Cool Yule CD to a DVD of the Chinese Disabled Persons Performing Art Troupe which is one of the most amazing things I've ever seen.

There's an old fashioned jar filled with gum balls.

There are printer cartidges to a printer that I don't even own anymore!

There's a Jenny Lawson/The Bloggess stick puppet that has been signed by Jenny herself!  (She signed her own boobs, naturally.)

There's also a bottle of Bacardi tucked into one corner in case of emergencies.

On the right side we find:

Stacks of important documents that I meant to deal with months ago but still haven't.

A stuffed owl, some owl figurines, a Goddess statue, a stuffed gray kitten, a jump drive shaped like a banana, and an Einstein bobble head because EVERYONE should have an Einstein bobble head!

A large salt lamp that I picked up in the German Alps and didn't think about the fact that it has a German power cord that I can't plug in here.

My Cheshire Cat mug and a Winnie the Pooh and Piglet figurine.

Oh and on top of the desk is a box of scrapbook supplies, a Cindy Loo Who doll, and an electric guitar autographed by the members of Duran Duran!!!  (Yup, I'm a Duranie and I'm HARD CORE!  Okay, I have an autographed guitar, and I'm willing to claim that makes me hard core.  Really, who's going to fight me over that?)

So there we have it, people! And now it's your turn!  Surely, I don't have the weirdest collection of things on my desk in the whole world.  In fact, I'm happy if someone just tells me one thing they have that's weirder that my stuff!  I just know you can do it!  Ready?  Great!  Here YOU go!...

Bookish Intimidation

It was a lovely Sunday afternoon, dear readers and loyal subjects.  The sun was shining.  The birds were singing.  There wasn't a cloud in the sky... okay, I exaggerate.  I think it was sort of overcast, but that's hardly the point I'm trying to make here.  The point is that it was a perfectly lovely day, and I was getting to do one of my very favorite things, hang out in the book store!

I love a bookstore.  I admit it.  I love books.  I like to see them and to touch them and even smell them.  I don't like sniffing them as much as I used to enjoy sniffing those purple newly memeographed pages they used to hand out in my elementary school, but I'm pretty sure those things made kids high!  It's a lot like those Marks-A-Lot markers that you can sniff and get a little dizzy.  Holy canolli, people!  I was an elementary school druggie!  Well poo.  I didn't see that coming.   Oh well, I think I quit cold turkey about the time the photocopier became more widely used.  Photocopies don't smell nearly as good as mimeographed copies... or books.  I think I was talking about books.  Yes, that's right. I remember now.

Anyway, there I was in my favorite bookstore and I was enjoying myself thoroughly.  I had no idea that the book store was lulling me into a false sense of security when all the while its nefarious plan was to intimidate and bully me once I reached the craft section.  Woe is me... well WAS me.  I'm better now.  But maybe I should start at the beginning.  You see, it happened like this.  I started off at the entrance and life was good...

It was just lovely, I tell you.  There was a whole table full of cupcake related items.  There were cupcake puzzles and cupcake notepads and... more cupcake puzzles.  Apparently they didnt' have a huge selection of cupcake items but I did think it was nice that they set them all out for me.  Don't you?!

From there I went to the blank book section because who DOESN'T love a blank book. There I found this little gem:

Can you believe it?!  It was a shiny leopard print covered blank book?!  I mean, they even matched my shoes?!  How could you not fall in love with a blank book that matches your shoes?!  You can't, right?!  Who's with me?!  

But that's where the lulling ended, I'm afraid.  That's when I went to....

the craft section.  (Insert ominous "DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUN" here please. Thanks!)

It started innocently enough.  It was just a book, a book about Origami!

Yes, this was the book that led me down the intimidation trail.  It was a book on origami for busy people.  It boasted 27 original on-the-go projects.  That's what caught my eye... "on-the-go."  Really?  Portable origami?  This book was clearly taunting me.  I mean, I'm not that hot at origami on the best of days, but on-the-go?!  Who does that?!  Who carries around a book so that when they're driving and they're in the middle of nowhere... you know where you can't get a decent radio station to save your life and you can't possibly listen to crackly salsa music any longer?  I mean what are you supposed to do?  Whip this thing out and make a quick origami vase of flowers while you drive?!  How do you even manage?!  What if you drive a stick shift?!  It's not like I felt bad enough about my usual origami skills. This book wants me to feel bad about the fact that I can't do origami while I drive!!!  That's just mean!  But then it got worse!

That's right!  It's not enough that I can't drive and fold paper.  Now I'm being taunted by the Grim Reaper of origami.  Oh wait, I'm sorry. It's Horrorgami!  Just wow, people!  I was starting to get some kind of complex and fast!  But the hits just kept coming!

Next I'm faced with a book telling me that I should handmake Halloween in its entirety!  People, I don't  hand make anything!  I look for things that look to be handmade and then do you know what I do?  I BUY THEM!  If I handmade a costume for my kids, they'd look like Charlie Brown dressed as a ghost with about 50 eye holes!  These are skills I just don't have!  I'm Queenly!  I'm awesome!  I'm not particularly crafty!!!  So now I feel bad not only for my origami skills but because I'm mass purchasing and entire holiday for my children!  I feel like I should be wearing a huge scarlet H on my chest!  (It stands for Halloween. I'll probably have to change letters for each holiday that I don't handmake.  Let me deal with this first one before I work on the rest of the alphabet.

But I shouldn't have been so touchy... yet.  I should have realized that the books were just getting started.  They were working up to something.  Do you know what it was?  

MIND CONTROL!  

That's right.  Mind control!  The next book tried to mess with my head by telling me that it wasn't even a book!  (There really is a K on the end of that title.  It doesn't actually say that it's not a Boo... even though that would go along with the Halloween theme... maybe they should consider a seasonal version of this particular thing that isn't a book despite looking a LOT like a book.)  Yes, apparently the books didn't want me to get too comfortable with my own senses.  They wanted me off balance.  They wanted me to question my own mind and perceptions.  And do you know what, dear readers and loyal subjects?  It worked!  I felt compelled to open it and find out what it was!  And this was what I found:

It didn't take a mind as sharp as the Queen's long at all to figure out what was going on here.  These books were on a mission!  They weren't innocent books making me feel bad about my origami and Halloween short comings. They were cult leaders!  They wanted me exposed to nothing but themselves.  And do you know why they wanted this?  Well I do!

They wanted to make me into their own puppet!  I swear it was like The Brain trying to take over the world every night with Pinky, only there was no Pinky anywhere around to provide comic relief!  (If you don't know Pinky and The Brain, I highly recommend looking it up on youtube or something because they ROCK!)  Yes, the next book tried to put me under its spell and make me do things!  EVIL THINGS!

That's right!  The book tried to tell me to wreck it!  I couldn't decide if wrecking it would open up some kind of lock that let out its inner zombie or if it was just masochistic.  Ultimately I figured it didn't matter.  I wasn't letting any book tell ME what to do!  It didn't matter if it's little friend was trying to tell me that a book wasn't a book... or a boo... whichever.  This book was pushy!  It was a bully!  And it wasn't going to get away with it!  I decided right then and there that I would fight back.  I let those books know who was boss!  I gathered them all up together and stacked them neatly behind another, larger book!  I hid those thing!  Yup!  I was all over this. I was saving other unsuspecting shoppers from low self esteem based on their origami skills.  I was saving them from a warped and more than slightly masochistic book.  I was saving them from any book telling them what to do.  I put it behind THIS book!...

Oh wait.  Now that I look at it... well poo.  I'm starting to think that all this shop sold were pushy books.  I guess I'm lucky.  I fled the craft section for the much more helpful cookbook section.  There I bought a lovely volume of recipes that I never plan on actually trying to make, but having the book around with its pretty pictures gave me the ego boost I needed.  I'll just leave it lying around and let everyone think that I made something from it.  Instead, I'll be at the grocery store trying to buy something "homemade."  I'll see all of you just as soon as I get back!

I'm Lazy and This is Random!

It's that time of the week again, dear readers and loyal subjects.  Yup! It's time for me to be lazy and post some funny stuff that I found on the internet and somehow still manage to take some form of indirectly applied credit for being funny myself.  Now that I think about it, this is harder than it looks!  This is plagiarism in it's finest!  I deserve this credit!  In fact... you're welcome. So anyway, we're doing the weekly random wrap up again where I show you all the funnies that made me laugh the most during the week.  This time, though, we have a theme!  In honor of my youngest child and her newly demonstrated knowledge of the profane, I have decided to kick off this week with the funnies that I haven't used before because they contain a teensy, tinsy bit of language... so here we go!

Yeah, this one is in honor of all of you who have read Shades of Gray and expected something OTHER than an argument about an umbrella.  I know you're there!  You can't hide from me!

And this is for all my girlfriends!  It's because they are and we know it's true!  You all rock!  (And so does Melanie who sent me the first two funnies.  Thankies!!)

I defy any of you to say that you haven't done this!  Personally, I think some things are just worth the risk.  This is one of them.

Yes, they do.  Yes... they do!  This boy will go far.  I just know it!

This one I couldn't resist.  It's not pterodactyl porn but so little is...

Oh yeah, Baby! We're getting kinky now!  I wonder if this tape has seen the pterodactyl porn.

Yeah this is where the profanity falls out of the equation.  Honestly, I couldn't maintain it and couldn't resist a few more.  This one is TOTALLY me... and most of my friends, bless their hearts!

And it's mirror for the win!!!!

And welcome to the world inside my head, people!  This is it!!!!  Now if I could just get the sheep, cow, turtle and that Macarena chick to tell all the other voices to stop, I'd be just fine.  Okay, I'd be bored and lonely but fine all the same!

Have a great start to your weekend, people!  

NOT Mom of the Year

Well, it's finally happened.  My baby has grown up and passed a milestone. Yes, she's only 6 but last night she blurted out her very first curse word... and she used it in context.  I was almost weirdly proud.  I'm pretty sure, though, that it's going to keep me from getting the whole Mom Of The Year award this year... again... like usual.  I figure she's not the first child to say something inappropriate, really.  In fact, at some point in time, all three of mine have.  I admit that they might have heard a few of these words at home.  MPH (My Poor Husband) is likely the source... at least as far as I'm admitting.  But it's not like we're walking around cursing like the Osbournes or anything!  So in honor of my sweet and innocent baby, I've decided to talk about that thing that we never really talk about.  You know, it's the first time our children curse.

Disclaimer:  If you can't handle a curse word or two, now is the time to stop reading.  I'm just sayin'.

Fuck!  (See?  I told you.  That was just a test.  Kind of like a warning shot across the bow or something.  You know, if I were a pirate.  Anyway, back to our story.)

With my oldest, it really was MPH's fault.  She was probably two years old.  She was this beautiful little blonde haired, blue eyed angel of a child.  (Now that I think about it, they all are.)  She and I were standing at the top of the stairs near the appropriately safety conscious child gate when I called down to MPH.  He, in the meantime, was apparently moving through the dark downstairs of the house when he found a chair... with his foot.  From the first floor I hear this bellow of "FUCK!"  I just stood there totally silent, getting ready to ask if he was okay when my darling child said in the sweetest little toddler voice possible, "fuck."  I heard it.  He heard it.  Then he heard me call down to him "GREEEAAAAAT!  I just can't WAIT for her to go to pre-school and say THAT!"  We got lucky though and that was the one and only time she's ever said it.  In fact, now she fusses at me if I say "freakin'," which is my attempt not to say anything worse when I'm upset.

With my second child, it was different.  She may have heard these words used in the house, but she never, ever repeated them.  Nope, not my smart girl!  Instead, she waited for the appropriate time to use one of the words... in context.  There we were.  All three little girls were in the bathtub playing.  The oldest was 4, the middle was 3 and the baby was just about a year old.  Everything was splash and play and hearts and flowers until my middle daughter dropped a tub toy over the side and out of reach.  That's when it happened.  It was this sweet, small voice and it came out obviously vexed "Dammit."  I stopped, blinked and leaned over to ask "What did you say?" because surely it wasn't what I thought I'd heard.  So clear as a bell, my toddler looked up at me and said emphatically "Dammit."  I turned and picked up the tub toy and then fled the room, mumbling "That's what I thought you said," because I didn't want to burst into hysterical laughter in front of her.  Yeah, again no award for me that year!  But again, she's never said it or anything like it since then.

To be honest, I was just probably too proud of the baby.  The child is 6 years old and has never shown any indication that she was going to say anything truly inappropriate.  I, therefore, blame this on the lamp.

Here it is!  This is the lamp in question.  Apparently it's profanity inducing, and I had no idea.  I must be the rabbit's fault.

So anyway, I'm standing there with the baby in front of me and my middle daughter beside me when the baby starts telling me she wants to take this lamp out of her room to make room on the table for her new Dream Light. (Don't even get me started.  It's this pillow pet with a light on top that puts colored stars on the ceiling, and I was talked into buying it.)  So as I'm telling her to leave the lamp alone and I'll find a spot for the Dream Light, my darling child looks at me and calmly states, "I hate that fuckin' rabbit."  I almost died right there.  Here's how the conversation went from there.

Queen: Baby!  That's not nice!  We don't say that word! It's an ugly word!

Baby (looking half confused):  Hate?

(Okay, we did formerly not allow the kids to use this word because we didn't want them saying that they hated anyone or anything, so there was some reason for her to come up with that now.)

Queen: No!  Not that word.  We don't use that OTHER word!  It's not nice!

Baby:  Fuckin'?

Queen (getting hysterical): Yes! That word!  We never say that word!

Middle daughter who is oh so helpful:  You say it all the time.

Queen: No I don't!  But I'm a grown up and there are some words that just aren't used by little girls.  You are little girls.  No more with that word!

Baby:  Well that's the first time I've ever said it.

Queen: Good!!!  Don't let there be a second time!

Baby:  Well I just said it again for you so I've already said it a second time.

Queen (clearly not winning here): Then that's more than enough. No more with that word, okay? Promise?!

Baby (shrugging and clearly humoring her mother):  Okay fine.

Yeah, that's how MY night went.  And the sad thing is that when I called MPH and told him what she'd said, his first question when I told him that I'd told her not to use that word was:

MPH: Did she say "What word? Rabbit?!"

Ugh, I swear he knows her as well as I do.  Anyway, he was kind of gleeful about the whole thing.  He was thrilled that our middle daughter had singled ME out as the source of the child's knowledge of the word rather than him (clearly she's confusing the two of us), and he mentioned the same thing that I'd noticed. 

MPH:  Well she did use it in an appropriate context. Clearly, she hates that rabbit.  I bet you were proud.

Queen: Okay, I was sort of proud in a very inappropriate and Department of Social Services inviting kind of way.  But that's not the point.

Hanna, our au pair, overheard my side of the conversation and promptly sprayed the water she'd been drinking out of her nose.  It was definitely one of her finer moments.  But overall I'm left with the realization that another year will pass me by without the highly coveted "Mom of the Year" award.  I'm wondering if it counts that I did get her a Dream Light.

And there it is.  It's a stuffed unicorn on her bedside table where that rabbit light used to be.

So anyway, I think I got the idea across to her that she shouldn't say things like that again.  And I suppose I'll be okay.  I mean really. What do I need with that fuckin' award?

Add It To The List

I don't know about the rest of you, but the Queen is (admittedly) a WEE bit scatterbrained.  And I mean wee in the largest possible way.  That whole ADHD thing I joke about... yeah, it can get pretty ugly.  My little mind goes wandering sometimes and even I'm surprised at the places it ends up... and the things that it picks up... I am a veritable font of useless information!  Here!  Let me tell you about some of it!... oh wait,  hold on. I'm on task. I swear I am.  Anyway, my point is that the way I try to compensate for this minor character quirk is to make lists.  I make lists of just about anything I can think of.  I surround myself with people who are more organized that I am and even THEY make lists for me!  But my point here is that I have a lot of lists of a lot of different things.  For instance, I have lists of:

Things my kids want for birthdays/Christmas
Things MPH (My Poor Husband) wants for birthdays/Christmas and those fantasy things he wants that he's just never going to get, but to make him happy, they're on the list
All of the 50 billion passwords I'm responsible for (now if I could just figure out what they go to...)
Things I need to do today at work
Things I need to do today at home
Things I was supposed to do last week but forgot because I lost the list in the rest of the mess on my desk
Places that I sometimes hide lists
Books I want to read

You know... the usual.  My newest addition doesn't fall under any of those lists, though.  It's another.  I should probably set the stage.

I've been trying out some of those really cool things that I've seen in the DIY section of Pinterest.  Last night I made a bottle of fairy dust!  Check it out!

Isn't it wonderful?!   Okay, it's a bottle of silver glitter, but it'll be fun at Halloween, and it still needs a "Fairy Dust" label so no one will think it's something like... a bottle of silver glitter.

Anyway, it was while I was making this that I learned a valuable lesson. In fact, it's a lesson SO valuable that I added it to my list, and I think you should add it to yours as well.  So here's my list with it's add on for today:

Things NOT to do naked:
Anything involving GLITTER!

I have to say this now.  Just... Holy Canolli, People!  Wow!  You think it's just a little glitter.  How big a deal can it be?  Well, let me just be the one to tell you.  If you're naked.... it can be a BIG deal!  Turns out glitter just gets everywhere, and it really sticks to skin.  It's worse than sand!  It's some kind of supernatural substance similar to a black hole... no wait, that's not right.  That would suck things in.  Okay fine.  It's a supernatural substance similar to some other substance that gets freaking EVERYWHERE!  I ended up looking like a crazed Twilight vampire before it was over!  I felt like I should go out, run faster than the eye could follow out in the woods then jump out at unsuspecting people or deer to yell "HA!!!" Oh yeah, that's what I'd do as a vampire.  Alright, I'd be a geeky and weird sort of vampire, which is why it's so bad that I look like one!

So you should probably consider this post as a public service announcement.  You know I'm only interested in the welfare of the public... and stuff.  I'm am here for you, my dear readers and loyal subjects.  Here... for you! So all I ask is that you keep this little tip in mind. When working with glitter, please remain fully clothed... in something like a Hazmat suit.  You'll thank me!  Now I'm off to make a bottle of GOLD fairy dust! Wheeee!

Open Letter To The AARP

Dear AARP,

I would appear that the Queen has somehow been placed on your email list... you know, that one that goes out to perspective members.  This seems to be in error.  If I recall correctly, the AARP stands for the American  Association of Retired Persons.  Interestingly, your website doesn't tell me what it stands for at all!  I can only assume that you're withholding this information as a result of attack by a pack of hormonal and possibly perimenopausal women to whom you have insultingly sent an invitation for membership.  Be that as it may, you may rest somewhat easier in the knowledge that at least the Queen is not yet perimenopausal.  Perhaps you should tie on your sneakers, however, because she very likely IS hormonal and prone to attack.

Now I will start out by saying that it was a very pleasant email you sent me.  And it even included a bribe!... something that's never a bad thing when emailing the Queen.  In fact, here's the email with lovely bribe you offered me...

Okay, now let's take a little peeky poo at this email, why don't we?  Hmmmm, let's see.  You start out by offering me more benefits!  And then there's even that really cool (okay, it's not really but I'm trying to build up your confidence here) insulated bag... very similar to about 10 others I already own but that you will give me for FREE!  Well done, AARP.  Unfortunately, that's about where you blow the whole thing.  I would like to point out to you that I am not... nor will I be in the near future.. "over 50." In fact, I've been receiving these emails for a few years now and just been deleting them, but I do have to wonder how and why you are emailing someone starting in their thirties with your information.  In fact, perhaps that's the real question I need to ask.

Now let's think here.  Just how would the AARP go about getting my email address as well as the idea that I am more than 10 years older than I am.  Hmmmm, let me think.  Well, the way most people get my email address is when I buy something online.  So let's try thinking of some things that I could have bought to warrant this erroneous email.  Let me think.... I haven't ordered any "Kiss me I'm over 50" buttons or "Honk if you love sexy women over 60" bumper stickers... I once bought birthday candles shaped like a 7 and 0 at the same time then put them on my mother's birthday cake... several years before she turned 70 but that seems like a stretch.  I haven't ordered any online birthday cards for my great grandchildren.  And I haven't yet become so demented that I've fallen for that email from the woman who's dying in England who wants to give me 10.8 million dollars to set up a fund to help orphans, widows, and the downtrodden (I swear the email actually used that word), though frankly I'm always tempted to respond to those just to yank someone's chain.  I've also checked my sent email box and at no point have I been sleep emailing (It's happened.  Don't judge me, people.) and sent out any requests for more information on Life Alert, walkers, Hover Rounds or how to order a year's supply of denture cream.  I don't eat dinner in restaurants at 4pm in order to get any kind of Early Bird Special, and I don't get up at 4am for the day because I've had plenty of sleep already.  I have three small children.  I wouldn't know "plenty of sleep" if it bit me!

Maybe it's not even what I did buy.  Maybe AARP has some kind of filter showing what I DON'T buy.  I tell you what.  I promise to go hit the Victoria's Secret website and buy thongs and racy lingerie.  I promise to go to Netflix and download lots of porn... pterodactyl porn to be precise.  I promise to buy myself a new skateboard.  I'll even join a skateboarding chat group and talk emphatically about thrashing or shredding or whatever the lingo is.  Will that help?  Will you figure I'm not over 50 if I do that?  Over 50 year olds don't do those things, do they?  I only ask because I wouldn't know.  I'M NOT OVER 50!

*biiiiiiiiig deep breath*

So in conclusion, AARP you're just kind of bringing me down.  I've noticed the years are passing quickly enough for me.  I just don't need you people pushing them along. Ya dig?  (I'm pretty sure that was seriously under 50 slang.)   In the meantime, I'd be happy for you to send me that cool little tote bag.  I'm sure I'll use it on some kind of car trip with my kids.  Could you possibly embroider a zombie kitty on it for me too?  I'm big into those right now.  Okies? That'd be awesome. THX!

They're Coming! They're Coming!

The Queen has done something that has rarely been accomplished before, dear readers and loyal subjects.  It was an auspicious night.  The stars lined up.  The Gods smiled upon her... including the God of the Great Parking Spot who normally just ignores her and relegates her to the back of the parking lot.  Everything went well!!!  The Queen has prepared a complete dinner for her family... that they all ATE... and that was prepared WITHOUT ANYTHING BURNING!  There was no smoke! There was no fire!  Everything was edible and served without her usual seasoning of fire extinguisher foam!  It has finally happened.  And we all know what that means, don't we?  It's as it was predicted in Revelations (No, not the one in the Bible.  It was some weird book the Queen read in college... or maybe it was a comic.  Whatever!).  Obviously the world is ending and we will now experience the coming of the ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE!

Yes, people I am afraid that I can find no other explanation for the successful preparation of what was, indeed, a delicious dinner than that the world is ending.  Now, I admit that I can't officially confirm that the end will come via Zombie Apocalypse, but based on what I've been seeing on Pinterest... apparently everyone else can.  Now, while I'm certain a case could be made that my current obsession with zombie's may be directly related to the amount of time I've been spending with my new best friend, Pinterest, and that it may be that hour upon hour of staring at funny, pretty, amusing, helpful pictures may be making my eyes bug out a little bit and making me a bit more prone to suggestion than normal, I say "What's your point?"  Regardless of the reasons, I have found myself surrounded by zombie images, both funny and frighteningly serious.  I don't want to alarm the rest of you but some of these pinners have an actual zombie apocalypse family emergency plan!  I have found a list of the first 100 things to likely become scarce and unavailable immediately after the outbreak of said zombie apocalypse.  The people who compiled it encouraged me to have at least two of everything on the list... whether I felt like I needed or would use them or not!  (Secretly I believe these people own stock in the listed products, but who am I to judge?)

Now I'm certain that you will notice that today's post on the zombie apocalypse is accompanied by helpful images featuring zombie kitties.  I did that on purpose, people.  You're welcome!  Now see?  I am providing you with warm fuzzy images to go along with your zombie outbreak planning.  I didn't want to just throw all of this alarming news at you without some kind of padding or shield, if you will.  So voila!  I am using kitties!  Because everyone likes kitties, even zombie kitties!!!  Truly, these are the best sorts of zombies to have.  Their body parts and fur fall off but still, who can resist that face?!  Doesn't it just make you go "Zombies?  Aaaaaaaaw!"  I know it does it for me.  In fact, I am headed out right now to find not one but TWO new kitties that I can bring home and give zombie inspired names... like maybe Rot or Nom or Kim Kardashian.  Kitties weren't on that scarcity list, but I'm pretty sure I should have two of them anyway.  Besides, I'm more likely to have two of those than two portable toilets, which WERE on the list.  Where in the WORLD would I keep those?!

Now then, I am certain that you will all accept this particular post as the public service announcement from the Queen that it was intended to be.  And in that light I have a few more words of wisdom for you.  In the event that a zombie attacks you, do NOT try to set it on fire!  There is only one thing worse than a zombie attack, and that's a FLAMING zombie attack.  And on that note, I leave you, dear readers and loyal subjects.  I have to go find two generators, the plans for some homemade water purifiers, a big ass shot gun, some ammo, and a zombie disguise.  I'll be in my closet if you need me.

The Weekly Random Wrap-Up - Pinterest Edition

It's that time of the week again, dear readers and loyal subjects. And of course by "week" I mean "random period of time that I make up usually when I'm feeling lazy or I've found too many funny pictures and I really just can't stand not sharing them with all of you again."  Yes, it's time for the Weekly Random Wrap-up, only this time I have a new theme!  It's the Pinterest Edition!!!  (*cue cheering and screams of excitement*)  Why, you ask?  Because I wasn't kidding about it being like Queenly crack!  I've not been able to pry myself out of that place since I found it last week!  This is going to be a real problem, people!  I need an intervention!!!!

Okay, taking a big, cleansing breath aaaaaaaaand... I'm good again.  Anywho, here are some funnies that I found on Pinterest, including at least one that I don't think was meant to be funny but that I keep seeing and finding just hysterical.  So if you're ready and your seat belts are firmly buckled, here we go!

This person's sister is my new hero.  Of course so is this Loki guy!

This one is for all my friends who know how to skip and who own bats!  Oddly enough... I think this is ALL my friends!  Gee, go figure.

Tina Fey... font of wisdom, people!  And you know what?  She's right!  We do!....errrr, I mean THEY do... yeah.

Okay, for those of you who are unfortunate enough to live near me, you have been warned!  There is just no WAY I can possibly NOT do this now!  The trick is going to be finding one of these miniature dinosaur lizard thingies.... And just for the record, if any of you out there know that there is some kind of bad porno with this lizard thingie as it's theme, please do NOT let me know!  I'm still not over the pterodactyl porn!  (If you're new to this blog and that statement made no sense, feel free to click here or here or  here for the background posts.  And yes, I've written about pterodactyl porn multiple times.  Don't judge me, people!!!  It's weird and once you start, it's hard to stop.)

Okay, this is the picture that isn't supposed to be funny, but it IS!  You see, this is the picture for a post on how to clean furry, stuffed animals.  Only that's just not what I think of every time I see it.  For all the world, it looks to me like Elmo had a particularly bad night, drank WAY too many shots, probably took some purple furry female monster home with him and now is paying the price in the morning!  Does he not look like he's yacking up his guts there and some nice puppeteer is holding a cold cloth to the back of his neck while telling him that the female monster doesn't look at all like Oscar the Grouch even though he realizes she does this morning?  Or... is it just me?  I'm just sayin'!

And here we have the winner for best job EVER!  I'd quit my day job for this!  (Everybody say "Sorry, Cherie!" to my boss.)  Yup, I could interview these guys aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall day and then still have some questions left over for... you know... after hours!

This guy is another of my new heros.  He's not as cool at that other texter's sister but he's alright!

And now, dear readers and loyal subjects, it's time for the Queen to get some sleep.  Why, you ask?  (Well you should have asked if you didn't because I sort of need you to ask to lead into our last funny.  Have you asked now?  Great.  Thank you.)  It's because...

And on that note.  Nighty night, y'all!

Do These Kids Make Me Look Fat?

The Queen went back to school this weekend, dear readers and loyal subjects.  Okay, not exactly back to school but sort of back to school which kind of counts in the whole hand grenades and horseshoes scheme of things... which I'm willing to run with, of course.  What I actually did was go back to my college alma mater!  The whole family was out of town for something MPH (My Poor Husband) had to do, so I took the opportunity to visit and tell my daughters about all the great times I'd had.  (Yes, I was telling them how awesome it was to try to convince them that they needed to go there too.  I'm not above that!)  I took pictures of them in front of the administrative building and everything.  It was UBER cute!  They're so ready!

OMG Aren't they precious?!  Can't you just see them getting ready to head off to college?!

Okay, taking a moment after that thought to sniffle and get less teary then moving on!  Anyway, we had a huge time at the college, but I wasn't willing to let it go at that.  I also contacted my favorite professor, who I've remained closed friends with during the intervening years... you know, like 4 or 5 years... and by 4 or 5 years, of course I mean 20+ but let's not get picky here, people!  So I called up Dr. A and he and his wife met us for a long lunch, just me and the girls.

It was during this lunch that I made a completely unexpected discovery.  It is impossible to look cool and professional and totally well put together.... if you bring your kids along!  Dr. and Mrs. A have known me since college and even know MPH.  They were at our wedding!  But because I'm usually alone when I come into town and visit them, they've just never met my daughters.  This is one of those times that you give the talk to the kids about being on their best behavior and how important it is and how if they embarrass you you will cut them, but you know they never really listen.  This time was no different.

So there I was.  I thought I'd planned it all out.  It wasn't a fancy lunch.  Nope, there was a playground involved!  I thought that would take care of it.  Let's just say... it didn't.  I showed off my offspring as any proud mother would then sent them off to play so I could then assure everyone involved that I'd lived up to my potential, had the perfect job, the perfect marriage, the perfect children and the perfect life.  Turns out it's a lot easier to fake being perfect if you don't bring those kids!  I really can't stress this enough.  Yes, bring the kids and you will say such things as:

Queen:  Yes, work is going incredibly well.  I'm a team leader now and enjoying the management experience...  AAAARRRRGGGGGH!!!  (That would be the scream that accompanied me turning to my right and realizing that my nine year old had her face mushed completely up against the glass immediately beside me.  You just can't prepare for things like that, people!)

Or this:

Queen:  I'm so proud of the girls.  They're doing so well in school.  They've really worked hard and...

Youngest child:  Mom, there's gum in my hair!

Queen:  How did you get gum in your hair?!

Youngest child (in the most intelligent way possible, I assure you):  I dunno!

And then there's this:  

Queen: Yes, we're hoping to finally take them on a trip with us to Germany next year.  It will be their first international trip.

Middle Child who came out of nowhere!:  BLURB!!!!  (That would be her sneaking up on me and blowing a raspberry on my cheek.)

Yeah, I'm cool!  I'm a professional!  I am all that!  And yet.... these kids reduce me to someone who has absolutely no control over anything in her life.  The funny thing was that Dr. and Mrs. A were thrilled to see it.  Those girls might have been all over the place but they were laughing and having fun and obviously figured that I was willing to do the same, even if I was trying desperately to talk to someone else.  It's nice to find those who appreciate you and are happy for you even when things obviously aren't perfect.  They're the ones who realize that happy is a lot more important than perfection.  Yup, I even let myself exhale a couple of times.  It's also hard to hold in that tummy for 2 hours!

That's cool.  I still plan for this to be me in the years to come:

PS.  As a follow up, I actually did one of the crafty/birthday party ideas that I'd pinned in Pinterest!  Holy canolli, people!  Look at the Queen get useful!  Just don't get used to it.

Holy Time Drain, Batman!

It was bound to happen.  We all knew it would. There was really no stopping it.  Truly it was just a matter of how long it could be put off.  The answer, it seems, was "until today."  But all that stalling came to an end today.  I finally did it.  I went over to the dark side.  I can hardly be blamed!  I heard they had cookies!  And it turns out... they do!  They have cookies, and glitter, and cupcakes, and funny pictures, and DIY projects that made me drool!  And even better, they have a whole section for GEEKS!  Holy canolli, people!  I had no idea how wonderful and disastrous this was going to be!  I'd turn back but it's too late!  I can just go ahead and give up my free time because...

I have found Pinterest!!!!!

Dear Lord!  Have you people been over there?!  It's like Mecca for those with ADHD!  There's just no END to what all they have!  I started to join it once, but I admit that I wasn't able to figure out what the draw really was.  HOW?!  How could I have been so BLIND?!

Face it?!  How can this place NOT be for me!  It's distraction central!

Look! They have funny stuff there too!  This is so me!  Someone was just WAITING for me to show up and snag it!  I know they were!  So I pinned it to my first board... The Queen's Funnies.  How appropriate is that, huh?!  But wait! That's not all!

They have art!  They have food and drink!  They have nature!  They have a whole section on just TATTOOS!  I just know they want to hear my prison tattoo story!  I can tell they do!  You can click here if you need reminding too.  But even better, they have this do-it-yourself section and it's like crack as far as I'm concerned!  

Now DIY projects generally aren't my style.  You see, I'm really good at getting the books on how to do them and getting the supplies to do them.  Then I'm really good at getting all this stuff out and together.  What I'm NOT good at is actually DOING these projects.  I figure it's a lot like how I collect cookbooks but can't cook.  Still, it's like an addiction.  So today I landed in like a rabbit hole of DIY crafts and I want to do them all!  And by do them all, I mean that I want to make a huge mess out of the supplies needed to do them all and then hope the projects basically put themselves together by osmosis or something.  That seems reasonable, no?

You see it's not that I can help myself.  So far I've learned that I can basically bejewel a pumpkin for Halloween.  I can glue jars to candle sticks and fill them with candy to create a centerpiece.  I can turn an empty Jack Daniels bottle into a soap dispenser (Okay, this one is TOTALLY going to happen at my house!).  I can store glitter in antique salt shakers.  I can learn to crochet a stuffed Totoro!  Holy crap! Someone stop me!!!!  It's all too much!!!  I finally gave in and made a board for this too.  I aptly named it "Shit I Wish I Could Do But We All Know I Can't."

I told you so.  How can this NOT be a good idea?!

My only regret at this point is that I realize that I'm too weak to stop.  I can admit that I have a problem (after only a few hours... kind of impressive, isn't it?!), but I'm not ready to stop.  I just started!  I can stop anytime I want to!  Maybe I'll stop next week!  What's the harm really?!  Wait!  No!  Don't cut off the internet!!!!  Noooooooooooooooooooo...

Okay, I'm kidding. I'm off to pin some shit.  Later, people!

Handcuffs and How To Use Them

Dear readers and loyal subjects, I read an article online today (yes, that really is the only place I get my news) that said that Joan Rivers handcuffed herself to a shopping cart in Costco because they refused to carry her new book.  The funny thing is not necessarily that she did this, but that I actually stopped and thought about that idea for a while.  Handcuffed to a shopping cart.... She does know those things roll and are portable and stuff....right?!  I mean, couldn't they just roll the cart she's cuffed to out of the store and be done with her?  It hardly seems like a protest worthy object of cuffing... or even really an important enough object to be worth cuffing.  Well the more I thought about it the more I realized that people in general apparently need more information about handcuffs and how to use them because Joan... Handcuffs:

(Huge thank you to our Web Mistress of All Things Good who made this for me when I bothered her and whined that I couldn't figure out how to do it.  Whining... it works.)

Now, because I realize there are more people out there than Joan who don't know the appropriate use of handcuffs, even in protest situations, I have decided to donate my time to the cause and help out.  You're welcome, people.  So get ready because here we go!

\

This is me handcuffed to something important!  This is my industrial espresso machine!  See?  It's true.  It takes a LOT of caffeine to put out this sort of literature, people.  The point here is that if you're going to handcuff yourself to something, it should be IMPORTANT!  My espresso.... important.  A shopping cart.... yeah, that's just weird.  Someone get Joan with the program.  

I will also take a moment to point out that yes, my handcuffs are leopard print.  There's a reason for that.  It's because it doesn't matter what kind of point you're making or what you're doing, there's just NO excuse for not being fashion conscious.  I know you want a pair too.

This one is me handcuffed to my liquor cabinet... also important.  I've just noticed that it's a little blurry. I'm not sure if that's because I took it myself or if it's because I took a wee sip off the Jack Daniels in there.  Who knows?!  Still, this is the sort of place where handcuffing is acceptable.... and in bars too.  Frankly, I'm shocked that they don't hand out handcuffs in bars.  It would be fun... kind of like handcuffed twister!

Now here is another great idea!  Handcuff yourself to your purse!  Not only do you reduce the risk of leaving it somewhere... like you're more likely to do after spending some time cuffed to your liquor cabinet, but you have the added advantage of leading people to believe that you possess either important state secrets or vast sums of cash!  Both are handy to have, I'm told.

Now here I am handcuffed to my Super Queen/ Super Mom bear.  Why?  Because she's totally cool and I love her!  It's always appropriate to be cuffed to those you love.  And speaking of which...

This is MPH (My Poor Husband).  Well, it's his arm.  He was a lot less amenable to being cuffed and having his picture taken than my Super Queen Bear was.  There was a lot of muttering about needing to ask before you cuffed people, but mostly I was ignoring him and trying to drag him into the frame for the shot.  Men!  You can cuff 'em up but you can't make 'em drink.... or something like that.  Frankly, I've lost my train of thought.

 And finally we have the ultimate coup!  In retaliation for his lack of cuffed enthusiasm, I handcuffed myself to the remote!  That'll teach him!

And with that, I'm back to my original point.  Cuffing oneself to a shopping cart is less than an effective form of protest, unless the shopping cart is filled with things that I would otherwise feel perfectly happy handcuffing myself to!  So the next time Joan Rivers... or you... or anyone else for that matter feels the need to handcuff themselves to something, please feel free to point them to the Queen's instructional manual on handcuffs and their appropriate use.  It's my own public service announcement.  Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go handcuff myself to a bottle of Jack and refuse to let it go for at least an hour.  That'll show them!