tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-72296194785631564142024-02-19T03:39:20.786-05:00The Queen Of All Things GoodSpreading the random, one post at a time.The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.comBlogger157125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-27833760626371424082013-02-25T10:22:00.002-05:002013-02-25T10:22:56.611-05:00This Is What Was Disturbing?!Okay, I don't have a picture of the exact situation to show you along with this post, but I couldn't help but share anyway. Hanna, our royal au pair, has been with us for 8 months now, and it's been a wild 8 months.... as only time with the Queen and her minions can be. So this weekend, we had a piano recital to go to, and I did something that I don't do that often anymore... I got dressed up! But I got dressed early, and then I fixed lunch for everyone. But I didn't want to get anything on my dress, so I sort of covered up. And this led to the following conversation:<br />
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The Queen (when noticing that Hanna was staring at her): What's wrong?<br />
Hanna: You know, I've been here through a lot of weird things.<br />
The Queen: Well yeah... it sort of goes with the territory.<br />
Hanna: Granted. But I have to say that THIS is the most disturbing thing I've seen the whole time I've been here!<br />
The Queen... groans.<br />
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So there you have it, dear readers and loyal subjects. More disturbing than a deer head in the back yard, than a bag of cat poop that I hand her and ask her to take to the vet for me, than a pair of fuzzy handcuffs that I pull out rather quickly and ask her to take pictures of me wearing while cuffed to various things around the house... is apparently the image of me in a 50's style dress with a crinoline.... and an apron with cupcakes on it covering it up.... and a cardigan because I was cold.... and barefoot... in the kitchen.... COOKING! I'm not sure exactly how to take that. Honestly, I still question whether or not the deer head in the back yard SHOULD have been more disturbing. MPH says no. This was definitely it for him too. <br />
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Minions... you just can't trust them!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglDCpLvBw7K_zmvEdWG470Wp3RGlHvK46JpUIsPCgkLWWdiKnxtUVgtR0iJDTZOpwK8Eh7ZH0yJpGFbg8C1OfrhXAVEGaE8bZpBGhGxBgrSYieAnBY7F_tm-BMCXJQR2iliDvbR8CFiHE/s1600/IMG_0236.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglDCpLvBw7K_zmvEdWG470Wp3RGlHvK46JpUIsPCgkLWWdiKnxtUVgtR0iJDTZOpwK8Eh7ZH0yJpGFbg8C1OfrhXAVEGaE8bZpBGhGxBgrSYieAnBY7F_tm-BMCXJQR2iliDvbR8CFiHE/s400/IMG_0236.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Admit it. This is sort of disturbing too. (Hanna, Princess #3, and The Queen)</div>
<br />The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-69666330169915359562013-02-13T09:42:00.000-05:002013-02-13T09:42:15.236-05:00Marshmallow Math or... Divide By Pi For The Win!<br />
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Well it's been a long winter, people, but the Queen is coming back out of hibernation. If only she can lose all the winter weight she put on during that hibernation process... then forgot to use up since she just never quit eating. I'm sure some of it was a good idea at the time, but frankly I've managed to confuse myself so I'm not entirely sure. Regardless, I currently look like a pregnant badger if I happen to put on a fur coat... so I just don't. Anyway, that really wasn't my point here. Not that that's ever stopped me before, but the point is that I do HAVE a point! The Queen has a story to share! (I know. I know. Try to hold down the applause. I've missed you too.)</div>
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'Cause pregnant badger don't care!</div>
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So here's what happened. Monday night, MPH (My Poor Husband) and I went to a party for a service club we belong to. One of my dear friends was hosting the event, and there were all kinds of fun games. One was a game where you had to guess the number of marshmallows in this cylindrical glass jar. Well, me being the geek that I am, I asked if I could use math and if I could hold the jar. The answer to both was yes, so I whipped out a calculator and after a couple of initial attempts at calculations that I knew were wrong as soon as I saw the final number, I realized I needed to divide by pi to get my real guess. I did that and jokingly told the friend of mine who was running the game that I had the right answer, and she could quit taking up guesses. It was divide by pi for the win! </div>
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Well, it turns out that I was EXACTLY right! I had the exact number of marshmallows in the jar on my answer. No one was more shocked than me! Okay, maybe my friend was because she took one look at my answer and had to turn around and walk away to avoid letting me see her expression.</div>
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Now, flash forward to this morning and MPH is trying to show our princesses the jar and the marshmallows at breakfast to tell them the story... apparently with a moral. He got to the point where he told them I had figured out the exact number and guessed it and was planning to go on to explain how important math was and how that’s what I’d used to get my answer. (It seems there had been some discussion this morning about not liking math.) Unfortunately, MPH forgot his audience. My oldest daughter took one look at the jar and cut him off completely to tell him what the REAL moral of the story was. And after some thought he decided he really couldn’t argue with her. </div>
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The princess' explanation? “Mom really knows her marshmallows!”</div>
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Poor MPH. Things never go quite as he expects.</div>
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Oh and the question has already come up. What did I win?! Well, it was a cylindrical jar of marshmallows, of course! Yum yum yum.</div>
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The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-49611943271828795972012-12-07T20:32:00.000-05:002012-12-07T20:32:03.731-05:00Now There's WHAT In My Yard?!<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>*Immediate Disclaimer* </b></div>
***I was unable to find funny pictures to go along with today's post so.... I just stuck random funny shit in random spots because I wanted to. I now return you to your regularly scheduled blog post.... with random funny shit. You're welcome.***<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMXXtMSh0yovC3ADBCzB8oiKBcqNm_B1XwDcZUCh96LdUOd3SvO6OkNrZZQnQFpTPbJbh6qG5_4kkNiNAQYqPFRuqIlG_o1rJ2gq7l7r3I_nek4phSLZQKytGYUpUZp8JWyAb5JCUvPng/s1600/poop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMXXtMSh0yovC3ADBCzB8oiKBcqNm_B1XwDcZUCh96LdUOd3SvO6OkNrZZQnQFpTPbJbh6qG5_4kkNiNAQYqPFRuqIlG_o1rJ2gq7l7r3I_nek4phSLZQKytGYUpUZp8JWyAb5JCUvPng/s400/poop.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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(Told you so)</div>
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Okay, sometimes it might not be so great that all my friends and colleagues read my blog. And no, no one blames me for anything <a href="http://queenofallthingsgood.blogspot.com/2012/12/what-im-really-thinking.html">I might be thinking in meetings.</a> But apparently someone thought of me when they read a typo in some kind of report the other day and this is the series of emails that then went flying around a group of my co-workers as a result of <a href="http://queenofallthingsgood.blogspot.com/2012/11/and-thats-why-i-hate-deer-season.html">my recent back yard find.</a><br />
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Sandy: It says this person doesn't have a head today! Really? She's just walking around headless?<br />
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Maggie: The head was probably dumped in Cindy's backyard with the deer carcass.<br />
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Queen: Oh like THAT would shock me in the back yard?! No way, people! I am totally ready for ANYTHING back there now... Bring out your heads... or dead... or whatever.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH8OjWgUFCKZkpG3oHvL5AfViduvuJ4wF3Ni-uNO1F2AV6XDIPpOIsUIsiMetelFWvfujKA4167OhX9i2hdU4ruMJq3Z9pRW50JeMEvQRUwu9avGokjetoZTyjZxT3kwihQpZC0FTTR9s/s1600/python+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH8OjWgUFCKZkpG3oHvL5AfViduvuJ4wF3Ni-uNO1F2AV6XDIPpOIsUIsiMetelFWvfujKA4167OhX9i2hdU4ruMJq3Z9pRW50JeMEvQRUwu9avGokjetoZTyjZxT3kwihQpZC0FTTR9s/s400/python+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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(It was a Monty Python reference so this one sort of goes! Work with me, people!)</div>
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Tammie (aka The Butlette): I spit out my water on the screen!!!<br />
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Queen: Happy I could help out your day... if only by short circuiting your computer when the water hit it.<br />
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Deb: Me too! Made me holler out loud and the dogs barked at me when I woke them up.<br />
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Tammie (aka The Butlette): Follow-up to the blog segment.... I feel it!!!<br />
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And this, dear readers, leads me to the moral of this little post. Actually, it's moralS.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhyPogkHTZIwsIgf7q-iAOoWlSRdjFdNUbh1B79aQxtXgFXvnGt2JZhRKbj0uYk_JqhmOuXx9ARAdPXSAU1G5ZfB1QTuoPPiBmrW39RhyphenhyphenJ9KIBc0knhz56mhjnBcE4PvjsomFGa2WTwKI/s1600/drop+it.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhyPogkHTZIwsIgf7q-iAOoWlSRdjFdNUbh1B79aQxtXgFXvnGt2JZhRKbj0uYk_JqhmOuXx9ARAdPXSAU1G5ZfB1QTuoPPiBmrW39RhyphenhyphenJ9KIBc0knhz56mhjnBcE4PvjsomFGa2WTwKI/s400/drop+it.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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(...and another random funny.)</div>
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1. You get one deer head dumped in your backyard and there is simply no END to the deer head jokes, or general head jokes for that matter.<br />
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2. Don't drink and read the Queen's emails. It can be hazardous to computer equipment.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA6hQZYHzuKGwUAELdWv9HJSheUpnLWvKt5NiwPEONJ5szaQQf1Mi0VRYz8G97NRDRWMxgrq5G96uFOP5FJZFRBpa42bsr3otuE7aSzf_diJc0sqR-sJn6PA4w4At17gID96_WoiX7gF4/s1600/today.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA6hQZYHzuKGwUAELdWv9HJSheUpnLWvKt5NiwPEONJ5szaQQf1Mi0VRYz8G97NRDRWMxgrq5G96uFOP5FJZFRBpa42bsr3otuE7aSzf_diJc0sqR-sJn6PA4w4At17gID96_WoiX7gF4/s400/today.jpg" width="395" /></a></div>
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(Just because though it honestly would have gone better during the deer head post.)</div>
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3. One of my colleagues uses the word "holler" and I just love it!<br />
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4. Tammie is freaking psychic!!! Note to self, think innocent thoughts. Or I could just make my life easier and be sure she's included on any shenanigans. Yeah, that seems to be the way to go. I'm just sayin'.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_EceslkxBI8vaXfUUeat8FmF_YxuwIeyM8dRXReToMzVsCSbE80rThin9nQ6VZtVfopxemYAhube7ZrS1FdMK3QxfUt9GLs5uexql3DTzrWSoKpv9VxpWeqb80S6rivzD5AsCNcGsLw4/s1600/bad+example.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_EceslkxBI8vaXfUUeat8FmF_YxuwIeyM8dRXReToMzVsCSbE80rThin9nQ6VZtVfopxemYAhube7ZrS1FdMK3QxfUt9GLs5uexql3DTzrWSoKpv9VxpWeqb80S6rivzD5AsCNcGsLw4/s400/bad+example.jpg" width="393" /></a></div>
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(Okay this one just works because it's me and Tammie we're talking about here.)</div>
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5. What's even funnier is that I asked each of my colleagues for permission before I put their names in here. This was Sandy's response "I'm fine with being immortalized in print on the internet in association with anything that has to do with headless people." Yup, the people I work with rock!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHZ-6mmMuBiQBKdZUqrIyqEzDif2aTD59qWek-cEF-iVNeKiqxex86HCcyFpR-zH-JSXp0E0OZJ5RJkJGAXEC8BUWWjJoGftKyvVlwaSItsGLs_3gDqFowN1o9woSHc0XENJ_8RvEjar8/s1600/stupid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHZ-6mmMuBiQBKdZUqrIyqEzDif2aTD59qWek-cEF-iVNeKiqxex86HCcyFpR-zH-JSXp0E0OZJ5RJkJGAXEC8BUWWjJoGftKyvVlwaSItsGLs_3gDqFowN1o9woSHc0XENJ_8RvEjar8/s400/stupid.jpg" width="397" /></a></div>
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(This one is just.... yeah. It's good to be reminded every now and then.)</div>
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<br />The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-47990539213509345532012-12-05T21:28:00.000-05:002012-12-05T21:28:12.192-05:00What I'm REALLY ThinkingThe Queen, dear readers and loyal subjects, works hard at her job. I mean REALLY hard. Okay, I mean sort of hard. Frankly, it depends on the day. But she is very lucky to be able to work at home.... where yoga pants, sweatshirts, no make up and funny colored fuzzy socks make up the work uniform. (You should start singing "I'm sexy and I know it" about right here, by the way. I know I am!) One of the really big advantages of that, however, is the somewhat undervalued benefit of not having to keep a straight face when given bad news or when dealing with something that simply seems ridiculous during a teleconference. This little perk is worth its weight in gold, I tell you! And it's not that this happens often, but when it does.... well... let's just say that there are specific things that tend to cross the Queen's mind about that time... and she does NOT really have a good poker face.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsyi8nYSxXF08Gp-QALRTjosyfwCtL3IwIBAvMFaJtgMJFXXb-O-9gtBD3C884bQ1F_rPWk0MiyovWCep2Qwb6p5qTNY8L5M51ZOu-V8sPeXSv-oKBqK7A7A8JWhi2BVH4LmWZ4MAq08Q/s1600/thought+bubbles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsyi8nYSxXF08Gp-QALRTjosyfwCtL3IwIBAvMFaJtgMJFXXb-O-9gtBD3C884bQ1F_rPWk0MiyovWCep2Qwb6p5qTNY8L5M51ZOu-V8sPeXSv-oKBqK7A7A8JWhi2BVH4LmWZ4MAq08Q/s400/thought+bubbles.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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This, people, is just truth!</div>
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So today I am going to tell you what the Queen is really thinking when dealing with things she'd simply rather not... which is a shocking amount of the time, I must admit. Because let's face it, the Queen is interested in eating bonbons and sipping wine all day. That's the goal, right?! Just because I've failed at being able to do that thus far and remain employed, doesn't mean all hope is dead! Wait, does it?! You know, I'll think about that some time later. For now, I'm just going to share the list with you all. You're welcome!<br />
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1. This is why I keep a bottle of rum hidden under my desk.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRGJxekMlGtC5IWZs-p_LrsY870tm2ODcRA4eqd57iMP0OazxHvWq0G1owXp_bUq59rMYI8kBN2YSNsfkAZeiRQ-iisg-Z7vbOYE9FldYr8LIO_dzmLWBOLg1p9XO7cX_gMN0fUqDz-s4/s1600/rescue+wine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRGJxekMlGtC5IWZs-p_LrsY870tm2ODcRA4eqd57iMP0OazxHvWq0G1owXp_bUq59rMYI8kBN2YSNsfkAZeiRQ-iisg-Z7vbOYE9FldYr8LIO_dzmLWBOLg1p9XO7cX_gMN0fUqDz-s4/s400/rescue+wine.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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(I know I said rum but wine works too. I'm just sayin'.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMaBN2RegUx6Gr8ZkVnA1HXv5SbZky13crIZnZtXXIjwRp0Hi9ETT7vAJL0eP3znRMYyHJFy_z6OZT5p833jPLdd3PWMM_Uqd3Bz5D-dAbaUoDIXsaXqj1A_Q_2ntWvvVgWotUyfszPbo/s1600/rum.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMaBN2RegUx6Gr8ZkVnA1HXv5SbZky13crIZnZtXXIjwRp0Hi9ETT7vAJL0eP3znRMYyHJFy_z6OZT5p833jPLdd3PWMM_Uqd3Bz5D-dAbaUoDIXsaXqj1A_Q_2ntWvvVgWotUyfszPbo/s400/rum.jpg" width="342" /></a></div>
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Okay fine! Here's your rum picture to go with that one.</div>
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2. Ouch! I think I just gave myself a concussion while beating my head against the desk with my phone on mute. Wow, I love that mute button! Now if I could just make it work on other people...<br />
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(I don't have a mute button funny. So I'm just sticking this line in here so you won't be totally disappointed. I really work for you people, you know.)</div>
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3. I'm pretty sure that "WHAT THE FUCK?!" isn't a particularly productive comment even if it's the only one I can think of right now. Maybe I'll just sit here quietly and chew on my hair.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV0VyfmBCTXzzmbJALFpbHqJDjJ1VWfzNyhKDs6F9XajgDNHuUcG6I6Mq4gJSPN2qk40CBdLzCWPnaQUfhs8OO96Cw5QAYcfNkgSDKTdj3HQsfToiLitMAJmaK0PboccHj2QCsmHSgOnk/s1600/cuss+words.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV0VyfmBCTXzzmbJALFpbHqJDjJ1VWfzNyhKDs6F9XajgDNHuUcG6I6Mq4gJSPN2qk40CBdLzCWPnaQUfhs8OO96Cw5QAYcfNkgSDKTdj3HQsfToiLitMAJmaK0PboccHj2QCsmHSgOnk/s400/cuss+words.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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4. HOLY CANNOLI! How can one very small kitten make a smell THAT BAD?! (I know this one seems odd, even for me, but my new kitten sits in my lap part of the day and she sometimes reminds me of that old Smelly Cat song from Friends.... The trouble is that I KNOW what I'm feeding her! Kittens do have their downside.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5G9YX0Z-bE2uBrrxoS9xxU2xVTi2H3Y18EwsrQ04Dnu4KFnSvxLCmUhNwTvFSI_OhIUAgPu5yPESfhWSLLrXE6M_zln3CkMYw6Xn2o4Qr_TlkmxbR89laXfsnApNSqEsHLHcds-M903Q/s1600/cat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5G9YX0Z-bE2uBrrxoS9xxU2xVTi2H3Y18EwsrQ04Dnu4KFnSvxLCmUhNwTvFSI_OhIUAgPu5yPESfhWSLLrXE6M_zln3CkMYw6Xn2o4Qr_TlkmxbR89laXfsnApNSqEsHLHcds-M903Q/s400/cat.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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This cat, however, seems to have tapped into my thought process!</div>
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5. Maybe if I stab myself in the eye or otherwise have some horrible, disfiguring accident... or SOUND like I'm having a horrible, disfiguring accident, I can just get off this call! I know! I can fake being attacked by a dinosaur! That always works!!!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi89LUwdx4_id_SW0kVWOtENJBPd98gFkPE3Cz_XuRKuCDekOoiMgkyVxJTJe0U2N406eMAUqqFAbmUIVRCVjh3XGKQazUKepncAB_SlYNkAm8q_ZD4i70mEEjuQKCLuzfXKkMwAicc0Dc/s1600/velociraptor+free+workplace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi89LUwdx4_id_SW0kVWOtENJBPd98gFkPE3Cz_XuRKuCDekOoiMgkyVxJTJe0U2N406eMAUqqFAbmUIVRCVjh3XGKQazUKepncAB_SlYNkAm8q_ZD4i70mEEjuQKCLuzfXKkMwAicc0Dc/s400/velociraptor+free+workplace.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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...But that can change!</div>
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6. I'm probably not on enough meds to effectively deal with this amount of stress. Yeah, I'm definitely not. Maybe I need a new stress outlet.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8CgFtfdubFMJDBPKcWPmMLB-j-ROeKy0WYbLlMdETM-3bcQ3Xr5xEVtNVt9td6m9tX2mW7mOlUdGEATKQMIcaqnfCPiap7RJ770IUFJjtDDnslHWw9MbpyQ9HcVY83mZU-UmFiWmGcsA/s1600/reduce+stress.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8CgFtfdubFMJDBPKcWPmMLB-j-ROeKy0WYbLlMdETM-3bcQ3Xr5xEVtNVt9td6m9tX2mW7mOlUdGEATKQMIcaqnfCPiap7RJ770IUFJjtDDnslHWw9MbpyQ9HcVY83mZU-UmFiWmGcsA/s400/reduce+stress.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Totally the same thing!</div>
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And to be honest, I'm pretty sure that there are several more things that run through my head, but right now I'm too tired from having to actually *sniff sniff* work *sniff sniff* that I can't think of them! So I'm afraid I'm closing tonight with what I'm thinking about now. It's been a rough day!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9I9iCgE3ykxGb_3-J0x0lLvptgV8q43ZkQD4t_4G4KkN8r_Uw3HsBxDJk-U8Sus69AH_bJ_gEKUCnGFInFxSzSr6I0lDUmVT3ht_iLQ_1xWHYwEhrUB6Lz0HVMY_zIPVO8cNx5YKo0YM/s1600/elephant.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9I9iCgE3ykxGb_3-J0x0lLvptgV8q43ZkQD4t_4G4KkN8r_Uw3HsBxDJk-U8Sus69AH_bJ_gEKUCnGFInFxSzSr6I0lDUmVT3ht_iLQ_1xWHYwEhrUB6Lz0HVMY_zIPVO8cNx5YKo0YM/s400/elephant.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Elephant gets me!</div>
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The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-14568375339548651792012-11-30T21:16:00.002-05:002012-11-30T21:16:27.076-05:00There Was Full DisclosureI'm certain that I've mentioned my dear Hanna, our au pair, before now. Bless that girl's heart, she has survived living with the Queen and family for 6 months now and appears nearly none the worse for wear! Now if you aren't familiar with the au pair concept, the US Department of State describes the program as follows:<br />
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<span style="background-color: #f6f4ef; color: #414141; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">Through the Au Pair program, participants and host families take part in a mutually rewarding, intercultural opportunity. Participants can continue their education while experiencing everyday life with an American family, and hosts receive reliable and responsible childcare from individuals who become part of the family.</span><br />
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Me, I just call it cheap child care!!! (Just kidding, Department of State. I would never say that....when you might be listening.) But honestly, we've used au pairs to help take care of the little princesses here at home for 6 years now and have been blessed with some of the most incredible girls who have truly become additional family members here with all the rights, responsibilities and complete and total weirdness that comes therewith! In fact, Marie still lives about an hour from here since she got married while she was here. Mandy, Alina and Juli continue to come for regular visits "home." And we keep hoping to see Laura on her next visit to the US. So see? This is like evidence that we can't be all that bad.... or that we've brainwashed them all over to our brand of that bad. Whichever sounds nicest is what I'm opting for! I also find that it helps if you make them say "The Queen is a joy to be with," multiple times daily. It worked for MPH (My Poor Husband)! <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSK89cPbZKW6GJ8uNj-6zvHah0_SuQst2mTpv-X59dE-SCPZOxbui7Xtnrmiqh212j5fssre6V0TOeoaeXaAGmoCD6SuDrrWvhtBAqRW3lpgpMrrygzCuyT36nqkP6m-fkGVtKIAIyics/s1600/77C.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSK89cPbZKW6GJ8uNj-6zvHah0_SuQst2mTpv-X59dE-SCPZOxbui7Xtnrmiqh212j5fssre6V0TOeoaeXaAGmoCD6SuDrrWvhtBAqRW3lpgpMrrygzCuyT36nqkP6m-fkGVtKIAIyics/s400/77C.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Here are two of our au pairs with the princesses. That's Hanna and Alina!</div>
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The one thing that none of them can say is that they weren't warned in advance. You see, I interview all of our au pairs before selecting them. And this is always an interesting process. First and foremost, however, I feel compelled to explain to them the way things are around here. It's easy, really. I simply say, "We're weird!" They usually try to laugh it off and I follow that up with, "No, really! We're like weird as shit! I mean totally screwy, and you really have to be okay with that sort of thing. We won't kill you in your sleep with an ax or anything, but we might as if you're comfortable dangling from the roof wearing a harness and angel wings just because I think that'd be cool for when someone comes to sing Christmas carols or something.... not that I've asked that but suddenly it does sort of seem like a good idea." About that time I usually get one or two reactions. Hopefully they laugh in absolute delight at the obvious creative genius they now have the opportunity to come and live with! Otherwise they tend to do that whole fake static noise, you know the one, "CHKKKKKK You're breaking up!.... CHKKKKK I can't hear you....CHKKKK We should talk later!" and then they disconnect. Really, it's all kind of silly especially since we do these interviews on video chat so I can see them the whole time. Oh well. Their loss! But my point here is that these girls get full disclosure before they get here. Which is why I'm always so proud of them when they just roll with the punches like they always do. And Hanna has been a trooper!<br />
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The bad thing is that I don't usually even think about the fact that some of the things I say and do might be a little odd until sometime AFTER I've said and done them. Actually, Hanna had to mention a few of them to me the other day before I said "I asked you to do that? Hmmm, yeah, that might have come across as odd, I suppose... but I had a reason!!!" The first one she mentioned was that episode when I decided to handcuff myself to different things just to show how it was done <a href="http://queenofallthingsgood.blogspot.com/2012/08/handcuffs-and-how-to-use-them.html">because I was upset that Joan Rivers had done it wrong!</a> (Go ahead and click on it to remind yourself. You know you want to.) Apparently she hadn't been here very long at all when I knocked on her bedroom door and asked her if she'd take pictures of me handcuffed to various things. You see, I'd tried to do it myself but it just wasn't working. That sweet girl didn't even blink when I whipped out a pair of cuffs and pulled her along with me to figure out what all to cuff myself too! <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGVh78qmdB0c-dzqKciloKQFBIqkXjzsKQHf93Npz8Vk9lhyplfoEG2mphyphenhyphenlpBj80jHMrqM5lu1W7I1h9hv-HBnfIB7UlpbQ5KMlbNvhP6jhY9h6JTj999Nscjo8AmK_iEiMDGaps55lQ/s1600/IMG_1834.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGVh78qmdB0c-dzqKciloKQFBIqkXjzsKQHf93Npz8Vk9lhyplfoEG2mphyphenhyphenlpBj80jHMrqM5lu1W7I1h9hv-HBnfIB7UlpbQ5KMlbNvhP6jhY9h6JTj999Nscjo8AmK_iEiMDGaps55lQ/s400/IMG_1834.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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See? That's me cuffed to MPH. I don't think I bothered to tell him what I was doing before I did it and tried to drag him in for a picture. Poooooooor MPH.</div>
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And recently there was the episode when I admitted to her that I'd asked her to do some weird things since she'd been here. She was a dear and assured me that they'd all been okay. That's when I said "Good! Because this last request wasn't my idea at all, but could you possibly take this bag of cat poop to the vet's office? They want to check it for.... stuff." And I held up the bag in question for her to see. Frankly, I wasn't sure what they really wanted it for but I'd cleaned out the litter box and these were the results! If I haven't mentioned it before now, Selene (my new kitten) has been fairly sick since I'd gotten her. We're still working on it. But Hanna only paused a moment, took a deep breath, then took the bag and just said "Sure." Maybe her English isn't good enough to figure out what all I'm babbling about and she finds it easier to just take whatever I had her and do whatever I gesture for her to do rather than even bother to try to really understand. That might be a plus around my house!!!<br />
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Periodically I tell Hanna that I'm still trying to scare her off. Fortunately, anyone who has willingly spent longer than 10 minutes in my presence tends to have a pretty good sense of humor so I have failed. It wasn't until the whole episode with <a href="http://queenofallthingsgood.blogspot.com/2012/11/and-thats-why-i-hate-deer-season.html">the deer head in the yard the other day</a> that I finally found something that Hanna just wasn't willing to help me out with. It appears that burying partial carcasses.... carcassi... whatever... in the back yard was that final line that should wouldn't cross... even for the Queen. This fact I'm planning to remember in case I ever REALLY need someone to help me bury a carcass. I'm just sayin'. Looks like I'll just have to call everyone's favorite Butlette, Tammie, to help me with that one, or perhaps the Duchess Donna. She's my sister. She HAS to help me bury the bodies! It's somewhere in the sister rules I'm sure.<br />
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There really was a point to my post tonight, but I'm having a devil of a time remembering what the hell it was! Oh wait, I remember now. I am now officially on a mission to figure out what weirdness lies somewhere between delivering cat poop to the vet's office and burying a deer carcass on Hanna's "willing to do" list. I figure I can spend just hours coming up with odd things to ask her to do before I find the exact limit. This should be fun!!! Any ideas?<br />
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<br />The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-28120764194509281022012-11-27T21:10:00.002-05:002012-11-27T21:10:37.508-05:00And That's Why I Hate Deer SeasonFirst of all, I feel compelled to say that I'm sorry I haven't posted in a while. Thank you to all of you who've emailed and encouraged me to write again. I took a break and promise to explain the chaos that took over my life in the form of a tiny kitten and a puppy. (Words of advice, do NOT adopt both a kitten and a puppy in the same week! It's just a bad plan if you ever want to do anything else with your time. I'm just sayin'.) Anyway, I'm back, and I have a HUGE list of things that you just HAVE to hear about that went on during my time away. Today, however, you get to share in the joy of my lunchtime surprise. You're welcome in advance.<br />
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Okay so today I actually took a break from work, walked to my kitchen and had lunch with MPH (My Poor Husband). I'll take a moment to tell you now that MPH is a professional... as far as his profession goes. He wears nice clothes to work and nice shoes and the people he works with prefer that he smell nice. This fact becomes pertinent later in our story. So does the fact that I work at home in my usual uniform of yoga pants, a sweatshirt and fuzzy socks. Since I work in a room that usually contains just me and my new kitten, Selene, it's NOT as important that I smell nice. But really, that's not the point of the story here... yet. But it will be!<br />
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So anyway, there I was having lunch with MPH. Actually I was finishing lunch with MPH when I saw a strange dog in my backyard. Normally this wouldn't upset me but of course THIS strange dog was POOPING in my backyard! My two dogs were uselessly napping in a sunbeam in the backyard while this was going on, and so I decided to take matters into my own hands. Off I stormed into the backyard, spurring my furry little warriors into action, whooping and yelling as the puppy took off after what turned out to be three strange dogs (one of whom was of the white, small and yappy variety). We were defending our territory! We were fighting off the barbarians! We were... well we were avoiding dog poop as I was doubled over laughing at my puppy and the white yappy dog as they proceeded to have a stand off. But still this isn't the point! The point is that when the whole scene was over and I'd made it to almost the back of my backyard, I turned to return to the house and suddenly saw it. And MAN was I not prepared!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Yh41fhrttbX2kMbhCKSd5VKburu0EPYcyVDFFDT8n3sQH1sVa1S7Ec9jr4JxSwb8dFnRD0oM_pnOuvNtBlA1unv1Pm9whtYiIFJejh5V83DjhGP7qjHZdqchwFYVUYa27fZVgG_QqCg/s1600/horsehead.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Yh41fhrttbX2kMbhCKSd5VKburu0EPYcyVDFFDT8n3sQH1sVa1S7Ec9jr4JxSwb8dFnRD0oM_pnOuvNtBlA1unv1Pm9whtYiIFJejh5V83DjhGP7qjHZdqchwFYVUYa27fZVgG_QqCg/s400/horsehead.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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This is a horse head in a bed... it's from a movie (in case you've been living under a rock for some years and didn't know that). There was no horse head in a bed in my backyard.... because I don't have a bed back there. That'd be silly. And there wasn't a horse head at all. There also wasn't all that blood or that old guy, now that I think about it. Otherwise, it was a lot like this picture!</div>
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So there I stand. I'm staring down at what amounts to a deer head, part of it's spinal column and its front legs all in a nice, neat little pile. That was a new one, I'll assure you! Deer don't usually drop their heads and front legs in my yard and then just forget to pick them up! So I stared at it and then did what any self-respecting Queen would do. I started screaming for MPH!</div>
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MPH managed to wander out in his nice clothes and took a look at my little discovery. He did so then pointed out that he was dressed much too nicely to deal with this particular situation right then and also added that he was expected back at his office any minute. Helpfully he reminded me that our three little girls would also be home from school soon so something should be done. Then he stared at me. And I was all "Whoa there buddy! What do you expect ME to do?!" Then I figured it out. I'd CALL someone! Surely there was someone to call for this sort of thing. I was a freakin' genius! They should pay me to deal with deer head crises. I'm just sayin'. So into the house I went and grabbed the phone. I could do this. I called Animal Control. Turns out they don't handle this sort of thing. They sent me to the Department of Highways or something like that. They told me they'd come if someone had hit something with a car and it needed to be removed. So I told them that a car had come by, decapitated a deer, skinned part of it and removed its front legs before knocking it all the way into my backyard. They hung up on me. People have no imagination anymore. And apparently that was my last option!!! That left only one other thing. So I braced myself for it.</div>
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I called Tammie, the Butlette, to help psych myself up for my obvious task. Here's the conversation.</div>
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Queen: I just found a deer head in my backyard.</div>
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Butlette: Oh my God! Was it dead?</div>
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Queen: No. It was a LIVE deer head! It was spouting out prophesies! OF COURSE IT WAS DEAD!</div>
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Yeah, sometimes you have to just wonder about our dear Butlette. She promised me cupcakes if I got my task done though, so I forgive here these little mental episodes. And then I went to dig a hole and bury my deer head. But first I sent out an email to my team at work to let them know that I was away... for a reason that was weird even for me. One responded and told me she thought that's why I had an au pair, which I thought was a clever idea. Dear Hanna has handled some really odd requests here at our house in stride before, but this time she simply balked. I was on my own.</div>
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There are a few things you should know now. 1. There is a lot of hard packed clay fairly close to the surface in my backyard and it's impossible to get a shovel through! 2. My upper body workout for the day is DONE! The hole wasn't terribly deep but I managed to bury the remains of the deer. I even said some nice things about deer while I was doing it. It only seemed right. Then I covered the site with some bricks I found in the back of the yard. There really is no end to the things that can apparently be found in my backyard if one only looks hard enough. </div>
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So that was my day. I found the remains of a recently hunted and butchered deer in my backyard and had to bury it before my kids could be traumatized by the sight. Thank you, hunters! I didn't like you hunting this close to my house before now and now I REALLY don't like you at all! I was going to ask for an archery set for Christmas anyway. Now I know what I'm using for target practice. Here little hunters.... come this way! </div>
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And THAT is why I hate deer season. Geeze!</div>
<br />The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-353509530411759902012-10-01T21:32:00.002-04:002012-10-01T21:32:30.113-04:00Oh Just Have Some Of This...I have to say that I was a good wife last night. Yes, I know. Look quick and insert joke here. However, I really was! You see MPH was really tired and wanted to go to bed early and so I went with him. Then I stayed awake a while listening to him snore.... I mean breathe heavily... but in my head I got this genius idea for a blog post! It was brilliant and I had most of it written already. But I was sweet and didn't get up to write it all down. I stayed where I was.... being nice...okay, now that I think about it, he was asleep and I have no idea why I stayed in place because this morning, all that work was just... gone! Yup, I forgot the topic and everything I intended to write down, but I swear to you that it was hysterical! I've spent all day trying to remember something about it...anything! But it's been one of those no luck situations. And in honor of that fact (as well as the fact that I'm tired tonight and so I've got nothing) I'm going to give you some funnies that amused me and hopefully will amuse you too. I promise I'll be genius tomorrow or something. Try to forgive me.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxcKB6CcOj47pfd2lthKBxSkAIKImfSaoGlcVRriOkszPlLoRWHeLb4bK12xB6httzgkqmh3y7BG6V76Dj5XoX0JaxKCHRbEqW5WEmxSERwgZRgh8lqAqO2Tczgkv5UKFauRp4SBwrXuM/s1600/bacon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxcKB6CcOj47pfd2lthKBxSkAIKImfSaoGlcVRriOkszPlLoRWHeLb4bK12xB6httzgkqmh3y7BG6V76Dj5XoX0JaxKCHRbEqW5WEmxSERwgZRgh8lqAqO2Tczgkv5UKFauRp4SBwrXuM/s400/bacon.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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It's hard to add anything to this. Bacon.</div>
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This, however, was me today. It's rough when you know you had a great idea only you're getting old and so you forgot it.</div>
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This one is for all my friends! You know who you are!!!</div>
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Okay and this one. This one is for all my friends, too. And most of my family, now that I think about it. Perhaps it's hereditary.</div>
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I realize it's photoshopped but still... best photobomb EVER! Can't you just hear it now? "Helloooooo!"</div>
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This.... is fuckin' genius!!! I bow to the obvious Shakespearean master here. Dude! Let's do the Macarena next!!! I never knew what those words meant anyway!</div>
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All I have to say is BWAAHAHAHAHAAA! Cat's got style!</div>
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Yes, I've gone back to Shakespeare... this is what plants in my presence usually look like.</div>
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And this one... just... yeah. I blame the voices. They're persuasive too!</div>
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Now go and enjoy your day while I try to remember the best idea EVER! And if I don't... I'll just have some more wine. It's a win-win for everyone! </div>
<br />The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-7173045520048559032012-09-29T20:42:00.000-04:002012-09-29T20:42:17.071-04:00Home Alone.... Look Out!The Queen is home.... alone. I mean like really alone...totally alone... I'm half freaked out! I don't know if I've mentioned this before. I probably have, and I've just forgotten. I'm going gray too. It's awful. I think dementia is just around the corner.... or maybe that's a bar. I'm not completely sure. Anyway, my point here is that I am alone in the house, and I am NEVER home alone! You see, the part that I was trying to tell you that I might have mentioned before is that, while my house is large enough to accommodate it, we do have quite a few people living here. It's me and MPH (My Poor Husband), as well as three little girls and our au pair, Hanna. So if you count that up.... it's six. Yes. (I had to do it a few times to make sure because I've already broken out the wine. I just know you understand.) So anyway, MPH and the girls are down at the beach tonight, and Hanna is visiting a friend. The Queen is at home because she has to work tomorrow, which she plans to whine about even though she thoroughly enjoyed her day off during the week on Tuesday. That's sort of beside the point now, though. It's really very much of a "what have you done for me LATELY" type situation when you have to work on the weekend.<br />
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However, back to my point. I am at home alone, and that leads me to the good part of this post.... all the things that I can do purely because of that fact! I've sort of been planning this all day. I spent the day at the beach with the family and just got back home, but I've made a list. Here are the things I plan to do. Ready? (You can use this for the next time you're home alone too. You're welcome.)<br />
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1. Grab the rabbit and open up a bottle of wine. Drink the entire bottle by myself because it will surely go bad if I don't. <br />
***Disclaimer*** No, I don't mean THAT kind of rabbit! It's a wine opener, ya pervs! Not that I don't HAVE that type of rabbit, but I'm not getting it anywhere near my wine, for goodness sake! Really. What ARE you people thinking?!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOYShfeqEZLnh0ShKu3OwnpA4CJcMidRuMH9N_5BXojjOks9adR37BH198u5g2hqlv35ClDfLZxUEggHdXEpLmQsxkoEWQht-nFydAacxrGqPC9ZQ2wodDMlyVIHY8pViOlUMdkGU9pFs/s1600/photo-126.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOYShfeqEZLnh0ShKu3OwnpA4CJcMidRuMH9N_5BXojjOks9adR37BH198u5g2hqlv35ClDfLZxUEggHdXEpLmQsxkoEWQht-nFydAacxrGqPC9ZQ2wodDMlyVIHY8pViOlUMdkGU9pFs/s400/photo-126.JPG" width="298" /></a></div>
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Yup, this is the bottle. The sign was already here. Go figure.</div>
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2. Close the blinds, take off all my clothes, put on a stylish hat and then run laps around the entire interior of the house naked except for said hat just because I can!!! Why the hat, you ask? I just like hats. Quit judging me!</div>
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(No, there is no picture here. You're welcome for that too.)</div>
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3. Practice my piano... loudly.... same song over and over again... until even I can't stand it anymore!</div>
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4. Take a looooooooong hot bath that will NOT be interrupted by any one of three children wandering into the bathroom to ask me where something they've lost is (like I even know where the stuff I lost is), ask me to get out of the tub and play with them, ask me to make one of their sisters play with them, or even just to ask me what I'm doing... the reply to which is always "Making Mom soup."</div>
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5. Bedazzle a pumpkin.</div>
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No, I'm not kidding? Don't you do this too? Well I blame Pinterest. It's made me delusional about just how crafty I really am. I now seem to think that just because I've seen something on Pinterest that I can do it too. So now, I'm going to bedazzle a pumpkin. Here's what it's going to end up looking like (in my own mind, at least).</div>
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I mean really! How hard can that be? I have a box of sparklies and a hot glue gun. Since I plan to do this naked too, someone send help if you don't hear from me after a while. I've probably hot glued myself to the floor. This is me we're talking about... It could happen!</div>
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7. Skip 6 and go right to 7 when I make a list.</div>
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8. Turn up my music REALLY loud and jam out. It's a dance like no one is watching and sing like no one else is in the house kind of night. (I'll also be praying the neighbors have their windows closed. I'd hate to have to explain to the police why I'm naked and screeching along to music that would sound better if I'd just be quiet.)</div>
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9. Spend some time relaxing. This one is something I've decided is important. I've been much too high strung lately. Do you know how I know? Well I'll tell you. I know... there's a surprise. I found this book in the bookstore today and thought about getting it.</div>
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Do you know why I didn't? Because I looked at this relatively thick work book and thought to myself "Well shit! Then I'll have to read this! When will I find the time?! CRAP ON TOAST! I can't find time to brush my own hair! I'll have to do this instead of sleep! Maybe I can keep it under my pillow and get it through osmosis!" And that's when I began to have a panic attack, hid the book behind something innocuous like <u>How to Kill Zombies When They're Coming To Eat Your Brains</u> and ran! Okay, to be fair, it was probably hidden behind <u>Ann of Green Gables</u> but the Zombie book would have been more appropriate, don't you think? Yes, I think so too. I'll have to write it since it doesn't actually exist but now I really feel like it should. Not sure where I'll find time to do that.... oh wait, another panic attack.</div>
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10. Have a panic attack.</div>
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11. Cure the panic attack by putting on my favorite one piece, footed, fleece PJ's, curling up under the covers and drinking a second bottle of wine. </div>
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No, I'm not kidding about the favorite PJ's but I look sexy as hell in them... at least as sexy as a woman can look in baby blue, fleece, footed PJ's with teddy bears on clouds all over them. I'm pretty sure that's high on the sexy scale. If it's not, don't tell me. MPH humors me and assures me I look GREAT!</div>
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12. Write a blog post about all the things I'm planning to do tonight then just skip over most of the list, pretend I did it, and spend the evening playing loud music and drinking wine. That's where I'll be if anyone needs me. Now where's my wine.</div>
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13. Remember one last thing. I found this today, and it is totally me. Knew you'd all appreciate that fact, so here it is.</div>
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I swear this is going to be my new catch phrase. Right after telling people randomly that I hate that fuckin' rabbit, I'm going to threaten to push them off my broom. It'll be GREAT!</div>
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<br />The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-77591683145084469172012-09-27T20:52:00.002-04:002012-09-27T20:55:46.404-04:00The Tooth Fairy Is A StripperMy youngest daughter lost a tooth tonight. Okay, she didn't exactly LOSE it, but she did sit still long enough to let me pull it out. That's quite the accomplishment for this kid! You see the last time she lost a tooth, she refused to let anyone touch it. It was literally hanging there in her mouth attached by what I'm pretty sure was some kind of natural bungee cord in one corner only. Otherwise, it sort of flopped around in her mouth. But far be it from her to let anyone pull it out! Apparently she thought it would hurt. She was so stubborn that she actually wiggled the tooth until it fell out in her hand, the fact of which she only accidently discovered when she couldn't figure out what was IN her hand. I'm still shocked she didn't swallow it. But this time, things were different! She was brave! She was ready!... She wanted that Tooth Fairy cash!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBulyOWPykN_pcIG4TFBIcRWk3xZX-xtkGpy_LJsH7HRxVeoOhtEz5pm9OvvislZMP864r5XWE0q2oBq2v_SDmS0cgouxad0GyBrQJCQ-_1jJFijEc4wH1SvMwD7qA4po46_iUoNhjOmQ/s1600/photo-124.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBulyOWPykN_pcIG4TFBIcRWk3xZX-xtkGpy_LJsH7HRxVeoOhtEz5pm9OvvislZMP864r5XWE0q2oBq2v_SDmS0cgouxad0GyBrQJCQ-_1jJFijEc4wH1SvMwD7qA4po46_iUoNhjOmQ/s400/photo-124.JPG" width="298" /></a></div>
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There she is... and there it isn't.</div>
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So about that whole Tooth Fairy thing.... My youngest daughter, Kitten is what we call her at home, is a driven sort of child. She likes a lot of things a great deal, but she REALLY likes some cash! Not sure where she gets that from.... it's probably MPH (My Poor Husband)'s fault. Anyway, the child is really focused on how much money is coming. She's been telling me since before it came out that she hoped the Tooth Fairy would leave her $10. I have been telling her just as long that I don't think the Tooth Fairy leaves that much! But is she discouraged? Nooooooooooo! She told me again tonight and informed me that since I wasn't the Tooth Fairy, I didn't know. Besides, apparently MAYBE she'll bring that much is good enough.<br />
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Well I don't know how it is at your house, but at mine, the Tooth Fairy does bring $10 for the first tooth. Now that I think about it, my oldest got $20, but to be fair, she had her first 3 teeth pulled all at once by the dentist because there just wasn't room in her little mouth for teeth to come in. I figure that's worth $20. She was a trooper. Subsequent teeth, however, go for around $5. This is what I kept telling Kitten. There was only one problem. The Tooth Fairy at my house only had a ten dollar bill! Hmmmm, do we break the rule or find change.... yeah, we find change. Otherwise a broken rule pretty much has to stay broken with my kids. They have the memory of elephants.... when cash is involved. So off I go to try to find some fives.<br />
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Now since MPH isn't home, and obviously I don't have anything but a ten, I go looking for Hanna, our au pair. I quickly swear her in as a deputy Tooth Fairy (this sort of thing is important, you know), and explain the rules of the game. Her job is to keep to the Tooth Fairy code... and by keep to the Tooth Fairy code, of course I mean find me some change. And we were in luck! Hanna was able to fulfill her responsibilities as a deputy Tooth Fairy beautifully.... sort of. You see Hanna didn't have any fives. What she did have was 11 or 12 ones! As she's counting out ten of them to break my ten dollar bill, I watched her and finally asked, "What are you doing? Stripping on the side?!" I've never seen someone break out so many ones like that at the drop of a hat. I checked them carefully for oil, but apparently she's laundered them in some way. Because of course Hanna assures me that yes, she's been stripping and I have discovered her secret. I'm guessing she's doing it between when she finishes her college classes and when she picks up the girls from school.... which really can't be a great shift... I'm going to have to talk to this girl. Or maybe she's doing it after I go to bed!.... on the roof or something. Who knows?! <br />
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Can't you just see her....errrrr..... him working that pole now?! Okay, I think my eyes are bleeding. That one may have just been too much even for me!</div>
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The point here is that the Tooth Fairy is going to be leaving lots of small bills tonight, and I'm betting I'm going to be on my hands and knees in the morning trying to locate them all after Kitten has slept on that pillow and scattered them all over the floor. She's not the most stationary sleeper I've ever seen. So I'm off to wait for Kitten to go to sleep so I can saunter on in in my 5 inch stilettos and leave her some ones! Someone wish me luck. I may end up in the floor early in those things!<br />
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Addendum:<br />
Holy cannoli! No sooner did I finish this post than I find this!<br />
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Apparently the Tooth Fairy IS a stripper! I'll be darned.</div>
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<br />The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-49376686338766691192012-09-25T19:41:00.000-04:002012-09-25T19:41:22.957-04:00We Now Preempt This Blog...<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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I was going to write a post tonight. I swear I was, but there was this
emergency. In fact, it was more of a
crisis than an emergency. So I am sorry
to say that there is no post tonight…. well except for this thing I’m posting
now…. which hardly counts… only it sort of does…. but you know what I
mean. Anyway, here’s what happened.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This blog has been preempted for a speech by the President
of the United States. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Wait, that’s not right.
Sorry. My bad!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This blog has been preempted due to the release of Joss
Whedon’s (who I still have not forgiven for the lack of any more Firefly
episodes) The Avengers! </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTmzdxzKTXeL37gr2naCR-ARs55qA0XoGLKAKiADVW-PV_V3K7om5d_FQrl0DKE8QGyQqBPEkU-uQdWmG9kH5vD2wdO8QqX1Vy-0EKjB3ExX__httW9Cgs96ISVa0X8VaCoCqR2nRT1TQ/s1600/avengers2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTmzdxzKTXeL37gr2naCR-ARs55qA0XoGLKAKiADVW-PV_V3K7om5d_FQrl0DKE8QGyQqBPEkU-uQdWmG9kH5vD2wdO8QqX1Vy-0EKjB3ExX__httW9Cgs96ISVa0X8VaCoCqR2nRT1TQ/s640/avengers2.jpg" width="425" /></a></div>
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Because Robert Downey Jr IS all that!</div>
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Yes,
indeedy! I picked up a copy of the
Avengers, which I wasn’t able to see in the theaters because the only things I
EVER see in the theaters are animated movies for kids. It’s one of those unwritten rules of
parenthood that really suck, if you ask me.
But that’s okay because it came out today and I was off from work and I
found it and I picked it up and I totally plan to watch it! MPH is thrilled, as you can imagine. I did at least warn him, though. He realizes it’s a “me” sort of night, but
has agreed to watch with me. I’ve been
saving up some serious Oooooohs and Aaaaaaaahs and general cooing noises for anything
Robert Downey, Jr either says or does.
(The Queen thinks he’s yummy!)
The fact that Chris Hemsworth is also available for eye candy purposes
is truly just a bonus! This thing was
practically made for ME!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtYhjknaucYoSjK2-zX7nXV6cUE7SXj9vKVzSdBrHdns-9ZO29DgnoDh4LiT8hXMTnZ1adPRFQPvKUT-UcGVoDxffnRbXI11xxkbwqpBOBTjU5PbJrXXwcCIhqJAnq0038yZVVhOVVOYw/s1600/rdj.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtYhjknaucYoSjK2-zX7nXV6cUE7SXj9vKVzSdBrHdns-9ZO29DgnoDh4LiT8hXMTnZ1adPRFQPvKUT-UcGVoDxffnRbXI11xxkbwqpBOBTjU5PbJrXXwcCIhqJAnq0038yZVVhOVVOYw/s400/rdj.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This is just a little Robert Downey Jr gift from me to... well it's to me. But you people can look at it too!</div>
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Anywho, my point is that I’d write except that I’m planning
to watch a movie tonight instead. So
here I sit waiting for my oldest two daughters to finish ballet class. I have my laptop in my lap (appropriate for
the whole “laptop” title) and I’m writing while a few other mothers stare at me
and pass judgment because I appear to be spending my free time on me rather
than discussing how awesome my kids are with the other mothers. Okay, I made that part up. There’s no one in
the waiting room but me. I’m probably
some kind of loser mom and the others are all out to dinner, laughing and
talking and doing that whole passing judgment thing. Or maybe I’m just paranoid now from the whole
PS thing I’m suffering from. (<a href="http://queenofallthingsgood.blogspot.com/2012/09/wound-tighter-than-tick.html">Click here to </a> see
yesterday’s post if you are unaware of the suffering caused by and dangers
inherent in my new illness… PS.) It’s
really hard to tell. <o:p></o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLX1yyt7OxR_nHhj0azSEIO7ePU4CS32iWKNFLzk7Itwh1jLMht6lP0ejo_4NsDyerFFIVxd2DQ0ASKILgSu3C-mISiJ9iXzgOZoR17t1rAI03G00LrPgT6J5LtjkR4M2Vhib89vdIexQ/s1600/loki.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLX1yyt7OxR_nHhj0azSEIO7ePU4CS32iWKNFLzk7Itwh1jLMht6lP0ejo_4NsDyerFFIVxd2DQ0ASKILgSu3C-mISiJ9iXzgOZoR17t1rAI03G00LrPgT6J5LtjkR4M2Vhib89vdIexQ/s400/loki.jpg" width="306" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #211922; line-height: 17px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Loki with Thor's hammer and Cap's shield! - “I am Loki, of Asgard, and I am burdened with a glorious Props Department."</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #211922; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 17px;">Just to let you know, I stole this shamelessly off Pinterest. I'd feel bad but it's funny and funny should always be shared!</span></span></div>
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So now that I’ve told you all what’s going on, I will now
shut down my computer and stare at the walls until either someone else shows up
who wants to talk to me (and by wants to talk to me, I mean who will sit still
while I babble at them about absolutely nothing in general) or the girls finish
their half hour class. Really, a half an
hour is hardly enough time for me to even get some good conversation
going. I think I’ll lead with my
personal opinions on pterodactyl porn. That’s always a good opener! You should see people’s expressions! Priceless…. less pleasing than Robert Downey, Jr.,
but still priceless. You can’t have
everything you want, you know.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOeU2D5acusolg-y1GCrHxBG131ZVufRNKrQ-Gk5DFL6d_ogKPePLuVBQtR-EsJ9B6MmTwucFuPvMU8oFnDl6-MCDEW3BerrTReciQL0_oZRhcHC7pZAcQQ_NpSKeh4tdnForPF47jlLc/s1600/robert-downey-jr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOeU2D5acusolg-y1GCrHxBG131ZVufRNKrQ-Gk5DFL6d_ogKPePLuVBQtR-EsJ9B6MmTwucFuPvMU8oFnDl6-MCDEW3BerrTReciQL0_oZRhcHC7pZAcQQ_NpSKeh4tdnForPF47jlLc/s400/robert-downey-jr.jpg" width="398" /></a></div>
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One last one because how... HOW could you possibly resist this man? I surely don't know!</div>
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<!--EndFragment-->The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-52761099391553821122012-09-24T21:16:00.003-04:002012-09-24T21:16:33.918-04:00Wound Tighter Than A Tick!Okay, so the Queen can be a bit of a bear when she's feeling.... we'll just call it moody to start with. Yeah, that sounds like a nice way of saying complete and total psycho bitch, don't you think?! Not that I'd know.... complete and total psycho bitches NEVER know, but I've read it online... about me. Scary, right? Anyway, if the fact that the majority of my post on Friday night was dedicated to the fact that I really should have been drunk and just wasn't didn't kind of lead you in the direction of knowing that I really was creeping up on a giant case of the moody's, then I'm not sure much of anything would have given you the warning that was really needed here. My poor family figured it out though... bless their hearts.<br />
<br />
You know, when I started getting really upset over absolutely nothing... okay not nothing but little things... well now that I think about it, Friday REALLY annoyed me though probably a bit out of proportion to what it should have since I can't point to one thing that annoyed me. I think it was an issue of everyone else breathing that annoyed me, but I'm not sure. Okay yeah, I really should have realized that something was wrong about that time. It takes a lot to really upset me, you know, unless you happen to have been around this weekend. Then it took inhaling. But haven't we ALL had those days? (Saying yes to me now would be a REALLY good idea. I'm just sayin'.) But I think I figured it out. I have a bad case of PS!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRV0fQ_egtKgAlWLKjcGpNmLgraDNZ6Cc_n68YtU6SUrOVRndmFQKrqgL_81cmSsRoYJFHJ67j5EB2SrH7HdmdCB3H8WrtLR-XHZ1BS8ej5Do-oHat4cjPjfi4qOklNIpOCgndSdCf4DU/s1600/PMS4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRV0fQ_egtKgAlWLKjcGpNmLgraDNZ6Cc_n68YtU6SUrOVRndmFQKrqgL_81cmSsRoYJFHJ67j5EB2SrH7HdmdCB3H8WrtLR-XHZ1BS8ej5Do-oHat4cjPjfi4qOklNIpOCgndSdCf4DU/s400/PMS4.jpg" width="395" /></a></div>
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And just what is PS, you ask? Well I'm assuming you asked because I'd feel awfully silly if you decided that PS stands what it usually stands for which is Post Script because I definitely do NOT have a bad case of the Post Scripts unless you consider the fact that I keep swerving off topic to explain why I don't have what you potentially think I have as a Post Script, but if you do, yeah then I have some bad Post Scriptitis. PS in this case, however, does NOT stand for Post Script. Nope, instead it's the version of PMS that I get. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpfVCNdNLao_pLHCpqPmnQMDvolJttw_7x14B-CFmoN8uewEdJ8l9n63e6b0P67ALVVlP7QAheZ9YXbpiO5jzlzL6tUSeivxnDAJ1jGWLCILLz0W66vUjdHuSMnom9yxf9TbINIHdubEo/s1600/PMS1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpfVCNdNLao_pLHCpqPmnQMDvolJttw_7x14B-CFmoN8uewEdJ8l9n63e6b0P67ALVVlP7QAheZ9YXbpiO5jzlzL6tUSeivxnDAJ1jGWLCILLz0W66vUjdHuSMnom9yxf9TbINIHdubEo/s400/PMS1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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You see, for me PMS is different. I still get the hormonal part but I don't get the M part. This is thanks to that lovely IUD I have, which my gynecologist sold to me as "the cadillac of birth control," and it totally is! If you can get past the part where you have it placed (which feels a lot like they take this small device and pass it through your cervix and up into your brainstem), then the whole thing really is fabulous! (And no, I won't let them do that to me again without using elephant tranquilizers on me first. Horse tranquilizers won't even cut it for this thing!) The upside is that you get either very light or NO menstrual cycles. I'm a BIG fan of NO menstraul cycles, which is what this thing does for me. Well that and it keeps me from getting pregnant again, and I'm pretty sure that's a good thing. The Queen loves her little princesses, but frankly, three may be the death of me. Four would surely do me in! But regardless, who could truly turn down the "cadillac of birth control?" Not this girl!!!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifsF0BN5-yLQO1WXkKmZtfmw6p8zEtLgsP66ZRPIQVVwbu8p14ZZDl4oeZwUZTjN4OmwBZb2PFQlj1YO6jIMsevZSVi3DQQG8dJ4c-WVaaYQUuSNoIS7QPAjow1Af255HxGa4OvTzBcNI/s1600/PMS2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifsF0BN5-yLQO1WXkKmZtfmw6p8zEtLgsP66ZRPIQVVwbu8p14ZZDl4oeZwUZTjN4OmwBZb2PFQlj1YO6jIMsevZSVi3DQQG8dJ4c-WVaaYQUuSNoIS7QPAjow1Af255HxGa4OvTzBcNI/s400/PMS2.jpg" width="325" /></a></div>
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So now that I don't get that whole M part of PMS, it can be a little tricky to figure out when I have it. Oh and it also makes me paranoid that I'm pregnant ALL THE TIME! In fact, I will periodically decide that I'm so moody that I MUST be pregnant. I've spent a small fortune on pregnancy tests that all say they're negative but should probably just tell me in a very calm and potentially electronic voice "You are bat shit crazy again because you have PMS. Relax and quit buying pregnancy tests." It's a shame they don't sell that kind of pregnancy test because it would TOTALLY apply here. So anyway, I'm stuck with the fact that I usually just get really cranky, go supernova crazy about something that really shouldn't bother any sane person (again I reference that whole breathing issue), and eventually figure out that my face is breaking out too and so this is likely the PS that I get. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU0zVXs_LfCG3jDJBhk0rUpYs4O7zF-GjXGmkJc5vhT2U5xCLW9K9wCpsNpB92jb_k0jNWfa4tSNDuACA4iyxbthM-8wXe8el6nMuH-8lpob7D5DNabZJvFMecEPwfLPoNZPEP0eMOudc/s1600/PMS3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU0zVXs_LfCG3jDJBhk0rUpYs4O7zF-GjXGmkJc5vhT2U5xCLW9K9wCpsNpB92jb_k0jNWfa4tSNDuACA4iyxbthM-8wXe8el6nMuH-8lpob7D5DNabZJvFMecEPwfLPoNZPEP0eMOudc/s400/PMS3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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On the plus side, I always apologize once I figure out that it's really not them because it really is me. When I went nuclear over my daughters deciding that they needed to practice their piano yesterday purely because I had sat down to practice for MY lesson, I waited until bed time but I did apologize. I told them that Mommy was just wound a little too tight last night and that she loved them more than anything. Ever the little pragmatist, my middle child told me it was alright and that she had figured I that I probably needed a nap. I decided that sounded better than trying to explain the whole PMS business without the M. So now if anyone needs me, I'm going to go take a nap... it's probably in everyone's best interest. Besides, I think I'm out of Jack Daniels!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGVa977pElBnqN-tEMHGuRnODf9ttDEfmHZ0DEvWL5JyPLKFbfX7h-wlj8FDmuwUeg3n6a3tGwvuO7qVRARtsA8ibAGrs614R58c8rKCXcBRO8ZDfBEx5L1QlbQLUwfFWTIEwoZx23U4o/s1600/PMS5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGVa977pElBnqN-tEMHGuRnODf9ttDEfmHZ0DEvWL5JyPLKFbfX7h-wlj8FDmuwUeg3n6a3tGwvuO7qVRARtsA8ibAGrs614R58c8rKCXcBRO8ZDfBEx5L1QlbQLUwfFWTIEwoZx23U4o/s400/PMS5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-45210482670853060062012-09-21T20:59:00.000-04:002012-09-21T20:59:04.174-04:00Yeah It's THAT Kind of NightYou know some days are just not good days. Some weeks aren't either. Honestly, my week hasn't been that bad but today was just HORRIBLE for some reason. And it's not that I can really even put my finger on it. It was just one thing right after another. I hate those days. And to be honest, it really takes a lot more than you'd think to knock the queen off her groove. Though now that I think about it, maybe if I'd shoved someone out the window of a huge Aztec temple, I'd have felt better. Maybe not, but maybe Disney had it right with The Emperor's New Groove. Who can really say unless they've tried it? Though with a shocking lack of Aztec temples here in the southern US, I'm betting it will be a while before I can personally test that theory. Now that I think about it, if MPH is reading this, I'm betting I've just lost my chance to go to ANY Aztec temple. He knows how I am. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRdMXMJic5p9ZnXq30BmPTWGvHEskeFA4lYsnRNpCAgsawEsbZedA7wYgneRNIHbq5lNTBr7JYXgumBPzlVe1kBSe0KdPGpq4xwFzs1LU23_lR0xU06psno9Qu7hj-vF51QzCFfZf7UJ8/s1600/9:21:1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRdMXMJic5p9ZnXq30BmPTWGvHEskeFA4lYsnRNpCAgsawEsbZedA7wYgneRNIHbq5lNTBr7JYXgumBPzlVe1kBSe0KdPGpq4xwFzs1LU23_lR0xU06psno9Qu7hj-vF51QzCFfZf7UJ8/s400/9:21:1.jpg" width="395" /></a></div>
Anyway, back to my point, which I did have... it's been one of THOSE days, lack of Aztec temples aside. Honestly, there really should be something we can do about these days. Mine was bad enough that when my boss called and asked how I was, I told her we should probably just skip that question entirely because I wasn't sure she really wanted the truth. She let it go... apparently she'd already heard. Ooops. Anyway, she did ask if I had anything good planned for the weekend so I told her that I did. MPH and the kids have gone on down to the beach and I basically have the evening to myself. I went out to dinner with our au pairs (the current and a former), had some wine, and now I'm back writing with plans to curl up in bed with another glass of wine and some kind of smutty book as soon as I'm finished here. And THAT, dear readers and loyal subjects, is how a day like today SHOULD be handled! Bring on the wine and men!!! The fact that some random man tried to pick me up on the sidewalk on my way to dinner should probably be a pick-me-up of sorts, but frankly the day was just too bad for me to even be patient with the poor guy. And really, he had no chance! Anyway, here are a few things that seem to have summed up my day and my attitude tonight... plus a few that just made me smile. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTydoLycrGeqsxyVyI92qo1ET1V8Yrz2bx29JJovrwZGadE23E5-Ca0VmC6JRuUjNTh5CBA-cBJaD1gzVV6NJV4EYUG37rl6j2yXMPZ6aTOZ1Mwg1Sr6zhCo1WCOaYtBaGyBXF7QjK-fA/s1600/9:21:2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTydoLycrGeqsxyVyI92qo1ET1V8Yrz2bx29JJovrwZGadE23E5-Ca0VmC6JRuUjNTh5CBA-cBJaD1gzVV6NJV4EYUG37rl6j2yXMPZ6aTOZ1Mwg1Sr6zhCo1WCOaYtBaGyBXF7QjK-fA/s400/9:21:2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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The way I see it, my day didn't kill me. Pass the Jack Daniels.</div>
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This is because Captain Jack Sparrow is a freakin' GENIUS!!! Why IS the rum gone?!!! This day would have gone a lot smoother if I'd just started drinking with breakfast.</div>
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Let's just go ahead and agree to substitue rum for vodka in the above statement. I'm not a big vodka drinker. It makes my tongue turn green. I've always blamed the vodka for that, but maybe it's really my tongue's fault. Who really knows, and with a bit more rum... who really cares?!</div>
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And for the morning after days like today we have... wine flu. I think I might have had a slight case of this before... briefly....and wanted to die. Just a thought.</div>
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Now then, in the absence of any alcohol.... or when MPH is staring at you during the work day with some kind of "you shouldn't drink while you're working" attitude, there's always this outlet. I made a sign too. It referenced alcohol and fire arms. I'll just keep it to myself. You're welcome.</div>
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And by the end of the day, we had this. The bad thing was that people were still calling me and EXPECTING me to care.... so I faked it... and pretended to stab myself when MPH checked on me....then giggled to myself afterwards... and had a drink. Anyone sensing a theme here?! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsAHH7qsNZWQPglR4CDj0kMsrD06EqG4LgwsPgZDA1MYvcsjZ-0QrFrFMm-RnYx_GGYmLpB6fCFu8WjEjFsbqLmyl9aVBqwve-pZGTy4gOct2kGbKeqt2toEVduexX92hapsCDnafoC4s/s1600/9:21:8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsAHH7qsNZWQPglR4CDj0kMsrD06EqG4LgwsPgZDA1MYvcsjZ-0QrFrFMm-RnYx_GGYmLpB6fCFu8WjEjFsbqLmyl9aVBqwve-pZGTy4gOct2kGbKeqt2toEVduexX92hapsCDnafoC4s/s400/9:21:8.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Then I did this impression because it made me smile... only I didn't say RAWR. I said NYAR!!! I said it because that's what my youngest child always says and it's both cute and scary... a lot like me.... and my youngest child. She once started saying it to me while she was in bed and didn't want me to turn out the light and leave. She said "NYAR NYAR NYAR!" then announced "I will say NYAR to you unless you stay!" I told her she'd be saying NYAR for a while then, and so she did.</div>
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Small child: NYAR NYAR NYAR!</div>
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Queen: Do you want me to have Daddy come kiss you good night?</div>
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Small child: NYAR NYAR NYAR Yes, tell him to kiss me. NYAR NYAR NYAR!</div>
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Queen: Will do!</div>
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Then I kissed her on the nose and went to get MPH. As I walked down the hall I heard from her dark room, "nyar nyar nyar near"</div>
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I wonder where she gets it from! Wait, just don't answer that.</div>
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And I thought I'd add this in because the one thing that makes a few glasses of wine and a smutty book even better.... is a few glasses of wine, a smutty book and FIREMEN!!! I do so love firemen...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhloRKgSMs7j2wTQRLojdMy0lxkkCDf-aQszP6n8o7DPmy85JWbB12rFMM3-Ra86fOoBW0RGcwYErPoteM4n_W-QBdGEIXZqB5RGI0lWSpr_1nOGCHCujnCJrVTbKKDbOXnPna-Q_BKo1c/s1600/9:21:10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhloRKgSMs7j2wTQRLojdMy0lxkkCDf-aQszP6n8o7DPmy85JWbB12rFMM3-Ra86fOoBW0RGcwYErPoteM4n_W-QBdGEIXZqB5RGI0lWSpr_1nOGCHCujnCJrVTbKKDbOXnPna-Q_BKo1c/s400/9:21:10.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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MPH periodically says something like this about the time I've had some wine and have started talking about firemen, so I figured I'd go ahead and just toss it in here. It's kind of like a gift, really. Maybe now he'll give me a Fireman for Christmas!... or maybe not. It's a good thing MPH is cute.</div>
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And for my last trick, I would like to address all the political ads, discussions, arguments, disagreements, fact checking and general bullshit. Here's what the Queen is putting out there this year. This is my official endorsement for president. Ready? Good because here it is!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI-tB7b_9sWVJvb-ap0rTGa4QuXXc7vnGMRLbpxWX7SPejFZTpKQLJ79I3sec14Q0cAWz2CC97GYkXXFcfWukap_iwawH3CQU697FZ44PAIx4L2RmbVp2ZWpSbtkmAojs-99qMfpqw_BQ/s1600/Dr.+Horrible.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI-tB7b_9sWVJvb-ap0rTGa4QuXXc7vnGMRLbpxWX7SPejFZTpKQLJ79I3sec14Q0cAWz2CC97GYkXXFcfWukap_iwawH3CQU697FZ44PAIx4L2RmbVp2ZWpSbtkmAojs-99qMfpqw_BQ/s400/Dr.+Horrible.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I went ahead and threw my support to Dr. Horrible because no one from Firefly was running. But as far as all the Facebook politics that always get thrown around during elections, I have one more thing to add.</div>
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Everyone chillax and have a pancake... NYAR!</div>
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<br />The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-65959329330391023982012-09-19T21:29:00.001-04:002012-09-19T21:29:02.337-04:00They Don't Mean Me.... Do They?!You know, I wouldn't have thought it had been two years already since the last time I received the letter I received today. Apparently, however, it has. Yes, it's that time of every biannual period of time for me to receive the letter that summons me to.... JURY DUTY!!!! Can you even begin to imagine?!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgALGHkcGbTR4IliEWTHqHINmhyphenhyphenL6hkCAhCT8H2k1uIAni5qS68Ftr013WEQL8EEk_EL9g7fqJ4mFq4auXbfOkyslR6xDg60I1fMN1H3MNSyOPsWKDezMkUHnJ9GgTgtta5XvcTqw5abeg/s1600/jury+duty+1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgALGHkcGbTR4IliEWTHqHINmhyphenhyphenL6hkCAhCT8H2k1uIAni5qS68Ftr013WEQL8EEk_EL9g7fqJ4mFq4auXbfOkyslR6xDg60I1fMN1H3MNSyOPsWKDezMkUHnJ9GgTgtta5XvcTqw5abeg/s400/jury+duty+1.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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Yes, it's true. I have been summoned to serve my local county on jury duty. I am less than pleased at the prospect but I do have a little confession to make. I've never actually had to show up for jury duty before now. You see, I've always had a reason that I truly couldn't stop and serve. I was either still in school.... working in a setting where life and death was on the line.... solely responsible for the migratory patterns of all birds in North America.....dealing with the imminent melt down of every snowman in the county....or busy being generally awesomesauce and therefore, simply not available to just drop everything and run to report to jury duty! Unfortunately at this point in time, none of those things are true! Well crap!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkNZyzJw6WGSWvPHPy9Am7gzjLHkJ08XcjwX3zhquccXJ0FrQ7j34DFBLVcW-Bdw12In1ddjcSs61FVBB-Df70MrmYtQ3b8UNVx0Q2LxoaT5wfkUAtOrao62u_5Igqdz2oEpi_Cd5Fv5g/s1600/jury+duty+2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkNZyzJw6WGSWvPHPy9Am7gzjLHkJ08XcjwX3zhquccXJ0FrQ7j34DFBLVcW-Bdw12In1ddjcSs61FVBB-Df70MrmYtQ3b8UNVx0Q2LxoaT5wfkUAtOrao62u_5Igqdz2oEpi_Cd5Fv5g/s400/jury+duty+2.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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Now let's take a moment to be fair here. Exactly who really wants to walk in and find ME on any jury of their peers? Frankly, my peers would probably walk in, take one look at me, slam down their glass of wine on the defense table and turn to yell at the judge "But she was with me when it happened! She swore it was all a great idea! I was following her lead!!!" And I'm not sure that not being sworn in at the time would keep me from standing up, yelling "Hell, yeah! And wasn't it a blast?!" back at them. This is me we're talking about!!! Face it, I plan to show up with a thermos full of nuclear powered espresso and a full box of cupcakes, neither of which I plan to share! I am every lawyer's worst nightmare! I'm manic. I'm totally random. I'm a little OCD, and I really like expressing all of those attributes whenever possible!!!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo7ff_B4_xk-q4tqjCbn5viqv7T85VobfiisXnKRziHlBRqDSoU4bwz4S0O8c_MtbzX3C0aeUAQ1aVSbVh5WHmCBCTWeUv5QINOJ78yskVCrmb_IQ1AVdpxOszTmazkt8OLJUuXJ3YyNA/s1600/jury+duty+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="326" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo7ff_B4_xk-q4tqjCbn5viqv7T85VobfiisXnKRziHlBRqDSoU4bwz4S0O8c_MtbzX3C0aeUAQ1aVSbVh5WHmCBCTWeUv5QINOJ78yskVCrmb_IQ1AVdpxOszTmazkt8OLJUuXJ3YyNA/s400/jury+duty+3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Now while, I'm sort of excited about seeing our justice system at work (says the woman who has studiously avoided both that and the sight of sausage being made up to this point), I do have to say that I do have a few concerns still. First of all, while I no longer perform air traffic control for migratory birds as a hobby, I still do sort of feel like it's important that I show up for silly things like oh... say... work. I think the people who have to pick of the slack for me when I'm not there would probably agree, but we all know that mostly I like the money I get paid when I DO show up. I'm not positive but I STRONGLY suspect that jury duty won't be nearly as lucrative as knitting dolls made to look like every character on Firefly. Oh wait, that's not my job. Ummm, if anyone talks to my boss, please tell her that I don't EVER do that at work. (Hi, Cherie!) My other concern is related to the dress code, of course. I mean, if I'm showing up officially, someone needs to help me out here. Exactly what style crown should I be wearing to this soiree? Should I go full on regalia or maybe a less flashy tiara would do? You know, it really is a lot harder to be the Queen than people give me credit for.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh418Y62xofUP2R6MBjfOfhO9TUrro8Ie0W4xn7xOSkeaCKwN93AOTJxvnQl0GBxqvPdwQj8z9bb9xDCH4fWvDr_rva2UHdKSSXApve2yPwSUz2UQkNcGc7MPcK44wRHjn5HOUm03KgXho/s1600/jury+duty+3.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh418Y62xofUP2R6MBjfOfhO9TUrro8Ie0W4xn7xOSkeaCKwN93AOTJxvnQl0GBxqvPdwQj8z9bb9xDCH4fWvDr_rva2UHdKSSXApve2yPwSUz2UQkNcGc7MPcK44wRHjn5HOUm03KgXho/s400/jury+duty+3.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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So anyway, I have 2 weeks to prepare for my official summons. I'm polishing my tiaras. I'm trying to figure out how to shove more caffeine into my espressos. I'm wondering how many espressos and cupcakes I can tolerate before I start bouncing off the walls of the jury room singing show tunes completely off key and loving every minute of it. I'm trying to figure out if I can substitute wine for the espresso and make it an even MORE interesting day. I'm also trying to figure out the best tone of voice when I stand up and yell "GUILTY!" before I'm even selected for a jury. Oh yeah, this is going to be fun. Where do I sign up?!</div>
<br />The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-892672063070309432012-09-17T21:43:00.001-04:002012-09-17T21:43:32.827-04:00Where Are My Crayons?I had a great weekend, dear readers and loyal subjects. MPH (My Poor Husband) and I went away for the weekend, just the two of us. And by just the two of us I mean really..... just the two of us! There were no kids. There were no pets. There was no family. It was him.... and me. Well it was mostly me. MPH is pretty good about just going along for the ride when I get a plan in my head. This was definitely one of those times. But since we were truly away for the weekend without any children, it occurred to me that I needed to make the most of the time. There were things I figured I should do before the inevitable happened and I missed them and wanted to go home again. I am proud to say that I got a lot done on my list. And because I know that so many of you have children as well, I thought it would be good to let you in on the sort of list that you really should make in case you find yourself with child-free time as well. So here it is!<div>
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1. Stay in a hotel that is fancy enough that you can NOT expect to hear children running up and down the halls screaming and laughing while they work off some energy. If you DO hear that sort of thing, you should probably call and complain. I mean really! Who lets their kids do that when you don't have yours doing it already?!</div>
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2. Go out to dinner.... without asking for crayons from the hostess! Well, I did okay on this one, but I will admit that while I was waiting for my entree, it did occur to me that having some crayons might be nice. Or maybe it wouldn't since I didn't have a coloring sheet on the back of my menu and the table cloth really was that.... cloth!</div>
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3. Go to Ben and Jerry's for ice cream then EAT YOUR OWN ice cream. Do NOT share. MPH tried to get a bit of mine but that turned out badly for him. I was totally serious about this one.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDjlByD-XlvI3bGPTw0YhcjREoQbtwYcPhrjdOr7j3yf6ja9clA0VWdmVbRME94V7l8H4OCOMhcTrZP3c_YL9ozWs3n37OU1n47NmSGP2OTXimluFqSgBIFqRIH72aDf_N4MdJalmUIyk/s1600/ice+cream.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDjlByD-XlvI3bGPTw0YhcjREoQbtwYcPhrjdOr7j3yf6ja9clA0VWdmVbRME94V7l8H4OCOMhcTrZP3c_YL9ozWs3n37OU1n47NmSGP2OTXimluFqSgBIFqRIH72aDf_N4MdJalmUIyk/s400/ice+cream.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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This kid totally gets it.</div>
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4. Go to an outdoor festival and walk through the shops without having to hear "Mom! Mom! Mom!!! Did you see that?! Can I have it?! I want one!" etc. You should, however, mention to your spouse every few minutes that you just KNOW that's what the kids would be yelling if they were there to see this hella-cool stuff! Then proceed to ask your significant other if you can have something about once every 2.3 minutes. That'll make them not miss the kids so badly. You're helping, really.</div>
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5. Play with the kittens and puppies that the animal shelter brought to the festival without also having to hear anyone beg to be allowed to keep them all.... other than you, of course. Again, MPH can deal with some whining or he'd feel like he'd missed the totally experience. I was doing him a favor.</div>
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6. Sleep late. Wake up and realize you've slept late, then roll over, close your eyes and try your darndest to sleep even later! Who knows when you'll have this chance again.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN-S_KCnV-W7CAW7OzymKdp4r9e9ywTjRrZ_tSObrcgGgNWoKrnU8Mc8Z-T7KSCT0cK_aiQIy0BQDenWw0cdiKnopFN1CCQVE4-ghVc4XcU0jdDZ66W8vzPPMXvRXMenpPuRcoNR4uriw/s1600/+sleep+late.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="380" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN-S_KCnV-W7CAW7OzymKdp4r9e9ywTjRrZ_tSObrcgGgNWoKrnU8Mc8Z-T7KSCT0cK_aiQIy0BQDenWw0cdiKnopFN1CCQVE4-ghVc4XcU0jdDZ66W8vzPPMXvRXMenpPuRcoNR4uriw/s400/+sleep+late.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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7. Drink and entire bottle of wine with dinner. Do NOT explain to any children that it's okay for Mommy to have an adult beverage every now and then and that no it does not stink.</div>
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8. When your spouse asks what the heck he's doing in such a fancy hotel, tell him he's with you... welcome to some freakin' class!</div>
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9. Walk past the toy store. Do not pause. Do not stop. Do not go in... unless you see something really cool in the window that it occurs to you that YOU might want, now that you think about it!</div>
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10. Buy yourself a surprise. Don't buy one for anyone else. Be selfish! You deserve it. You totally rock!</div>
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11. Dance around your hotel room mid-morning after sleeping late while singing the "It's all about ME" song because who knows when that will be the truth again!</div>
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12. Use every swear word you know as often as possible because there are no kids to a) fuss at you for swearing or b) save that particular word and it's appropriate usage for later when you least expect it!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLkK7mkfq17OJ2blVjxxtEiZN_QXrpnWIQmeYDEMJncOdbcI3RhUCp0879R9E5TaDTPG4WchtYy0V4tsFlvpGc-iHPeqoZZKR5QgheDvEllXgFDj6IUO4j_uiYULolRxVRVskZEiIXdzc/s1600/swearing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLkK7mkfq17OJ2blVjxxtEiZN_QXrpnWIQmeYDEMJncOdbcI3RhUCp0879R9E5TaDTPG4WchtYy0V4tsFlvpGc-iHPeqoZZKR5QgheDvEllXgFDj6IUO4j_uiYULolRxVRVskZEiIXdzc/s320/swearing.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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13. Eventually realize that you've had a great time but wouldn't it be fun if we could do it all again and bring the kids? No? Fine then. I miss them. Let's go home. </div>
The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-29043660375166977512012-09-13T21:07:00.002-04:002012-09-13T21:07:47.547-04:00The Weekly Random Wrap-UpI hope you are all enjoying the fact that the seasons are changing just now. It's going from summer to the cooler days of early fall here in the northern hemisphere. Hopefully for all our southern hemisphere readers, the days are warming up for you. Honestly, this is one of my very favorite times of the year. I've always loved all the "in-between" times. And in honor of those, I am spending a lot of time outside just enjoying... which means a little less time writing right now. Since I don't want to leave all of you hanging with nothing to enjoy, dear readers and loyal subjects, I've decided it's time for another Weekly (or not so weekly) Random Wrap-Up! Yup, it's time for me to be lazy and just share some of my favorite funnies with you. So strap yourselves in. Please keep hands, feet, arms and legs inside the ride at all times. And don't, for any reason, leave your space until the ride has come to a complete stop. The Queen thanks you! And off we go!<br />
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Because you can never go wrong with cat funnies...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYEFWlI27K0G9i07mXzuNddesasRJbew5Jkf6UORDelQmrG8j44EcsWvw8Up8pgBRFo1FYIaQ9mFMZx6NV6da4N4lUM4nh_y4jNp8NU0JQnGr0Hx77ruXDWNbpGS9QkW6JVmnMFHehJMo/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYEFWlI27K0G9i07mXzuNddesasRJbew5Jkf6UORDelQmrG8j44EcsWvw8Up8pgBRFo1FYIaQ9mFMZx6NV6da4N4lUM4nh_y4jNp8NU0JQnGr0Hx77ruXDWNbpGS9QkW6JVmnMFHehJMo/s400/3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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This is totally how I'm getting the kids to their grandparents' house. It's gotta be cheaper than plane tickets and they're small!</div>
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This should easily explain the lack of blinds in my house. There's no escape from Ninja Assassin Cat!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBmbpQiN-VWt_5EH1tIOl5KgMv9ZRyxQw84mhEOHd1eu9wOrOJWNKce7T-ddgapNT8jns3BjggGvyp9aqYdPJhisHaOjeQIYeiMLzazhY7-u9T6_geM8odenBzgPiMCNxXsYVTpQDxF6w/s1600/8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBmbpQiN-VWt_5EH1tIOl5KgMv9ZRyxQw84mhEOHd1eu9wOrOJWNKce7T-ddgapNT8jns3BjggGvyp9aqYdPJhisHaOjeQIYeiMLzazhY7-u9T6_geM8odenBzgPiMCNxXsYVTpQDxF6w/s400/8.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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And frankly, this one should surprise no one.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC6G8bkOI4HmL2qE7DR0u6mhN3KEuvoky-uMVNscu0b04waxvegADMr6OQ7P3kekjH_O3sEUNp8yrkAXTWXEu6kD0GRPR9kNE7TWEOBy2GilrrHgNIWo_TU1vaeoStOMHFEJI_edN1jZg/s1600/10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="279" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC6G8bkOI4HmL2qE7DR0u6mhN3KEuvoky-uMVNscu0b04waxvegADMr6OQ7P3kekjH_O3sEUNp8yrkAXTWXEu6kD0GRPR9kNE7TWEOBy2GilrrHgNIWo_TU1vaeoStOMHFEJI_edN1jZg/s400/10.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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This one is in honor of my children... may they always be funny... as in funny, ha ha, not funny.... well, you know! Oh face it. My kids don't stand a chance at "normal!"</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWaaEceoGnGGDQHMA39oz26gFNbjndlP1f7lVY_LoDCqCdshle5Ifxez6_pB3V0ylKhu2mzagRVeZWNPItusvQAoDgVKBRafjmjNcJ9_hWz_y_yXXtojnPtkOg9zgUWieW5hSkpAiBFiM/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWaaEceoGnGGDQHMA39oz26gFNbjndlP1f7lVY_LoDCqCdshle5Ifxez6_pB3V0ylKhu2mzagRVeZWNPItusvQAoDgVKBRafjmjNcJ9_hWz_y_yXXtojnPtkOg9zgUWieW5hSkpAiBFiM/s400/2.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>
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This one will never be one of my girls, but frankly I can't help but just love it! You go, girl!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj84U2q4pVXJ7p-C3m9zWkgwF3-xBFa23GinOsFHRzwYWq-7tJ14dWcLc7gpqzbpXhQ5CAHLiu3nZSub09aV5Qhe48mYIWGj0ApM1EV8dkU8cqUou5ihwpydoTzuJ5uWqUNBcPXUb3KwkY/s1600/9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj84U2q4pVXJ7p-C3m9zWkgwF3-xBFa23GinOsFHRzwYWq-7tJ14dWcLc7gpqzbpXhQ5CAHLiu3nZSub09aV5Qhe48mYIWGj0ApM1EV8dkU8cqUou5ihwpydoTzuJ5uWqUNBcPXUb3KwkY/s400/9.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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But this woman.... this woman is my freakin' hero! I laughed so hard I cried!</div>
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And because I can't NOT do a few in honor of the men...</div>
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Kind of makes you look at PeeWee a little differently, doesn't it?!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglNi9XbsHWvMKUhOoPBhTLRtDK7B7Ac6o_k7qi9du0jO6qJjEh-V9ksVd6oAhK97TQdFK8VecTgn6MB-BXhyUyECFUiuAnDVDp08iq19tTrnpXPfKp070NugwSHb9UzmbKNEcuhCLHTNs/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="347" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglNi9XbsHWvMKUhOoPBhTLRtDK7B7Ac6o_k7qi9du0jO6qJjEh-V9ksVd6oAhK97TQdFK8VecTgn6MB-BXhyUyECFUiuAnDVDp08iq19tTrnpXPfKp070NugwSHb9UzmbKNEcuhCLHTNs/s400/1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Ah wine.... I mean men... bless them both!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA8EGeVjJRPwQseSeqRWj0GkIodc2B69uOYybN0_VtOfoXaTuKTBafy9jj4H-RnMtgvAtxJqD1hf02ixZzOJpX7MxkxeJf6Jvrc4N6UgCSdZMWJRrOD9e52Yi-LTuv6ChXLrGNiq0TxXE/s1600/5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA8EGeVjJRPwQseSeqRWj0GkIodc2B69uOYybN0_VtOfoXaTuKTBafy9jj4H-RnMtgvAtxJqD1hf02ixZzOJpX7MxkxeJf6Jvrc4N6UgCSdZMWJRrOD9e52Yi-LTuv6ChXLrGNiq0TxXE/s400/5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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This one is in honor of my diet... the one that I have had difficulty with ever since I decided it was a GOOD idea to make my grandmother's pound cake... just because. Yeah, sometimes I shock myself with my own stupidity. This was one of those times.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrud7nEMpgyiyiOWRDxvgxir7vXB3ag6zR78Dm2oDxOlSqZl0oN9oJeZ3-Bl79FtWdp3d3WIg3n42YNlBkkWrgioFa7IBqIMdefRs5oqx2qI2A2h_b7kxOmADon7ATvTRQ-REYrSj-3w0/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrud7nEMpgyiyiOWRDxvgxir7vXB3ag6zR78Dm2oDxOlSqZl0oN9oJeZ3-Bl79FtWdp3d3WIg3n42YNlBkkWrgioFa7IBqIMdefRs5oqx2qI2A2h_b7kxOmADon7ATvTRQ-REYrSj-3w0/s400/4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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And this one was just because it was funny!!! I promise I was thinking of none of you!</div>
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And with that, I hope you all have a fabulous day! I'm thinking of you and enjoying my time outside. Yes, I may have locked the kids in the closet so that time would be peaceful, but would you REALLY have done it differently? </div>
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Oh and don't tell DSS, okies? Thanks!</div>
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<br />The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-17816042427050219702012-09-10T21:48:00.001-04:002012-09-10T21:48:15.023-04:00Sabrina, Ninja CatJust a quick post tonight. I'm too paranoid to write a lot. I'm busy making sure that my cat, Sabrina, isn't trying to kill me. Actually, I'm really spending the evening having a staring contest with her because I'm pretty sure that if I look away first, it will be considered weakness, then she's liable to take me out in my sleep. My cat doesn't look like a killer. In fact, she's really very cute and sweet, as most cats are... unless she's being psycho ninja cat, which unfortunately today... she was!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuaeE269PeldJ0LYY5k4LozSDcrNNZfrUHf218n8qajE0AZaajHaZ_C5d5rfsRanF7UGVsppw_2ACH3IkMKkOGBoxN4MH5KTCwxb8U_WJM3TWxBztyQWsSPPZzPvApKXgKf1ZirEha6h8/s1600/photo-116.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuaeE269PeldJ0LYY5k4LozSDcrNNZfrUHf218n8qajE0AZaajHaZ_C5d5rfsRanF7UGVsppw_2ACH3IkMKkOGBoxN4MH5KTCwxb8U_WJM3TWxBztyQWsSPPZzPvApKXgKf1ZirEha6h8/s400/photo-116.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Sabrina came to me when she was 3 weeks old. Here she is before she became homicidal. I had to bottle feed her for the first 3 weeks.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidUGQzW4jrQcmyRvSN38_xg4IEQ92sn3Ibk4BpX9iBmGGkHvDXbwwAZVtwKfj6iEo3TszxxUyU31IE6Cl4pB9jWljqH4T1iuy7-S5qE6HRJoC1PI-rhokaiTayFoV118va22gILt22Hds/s1600/photo-117.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidUGQzW4jrQcmyRvSN38_xg4IEQ92sn3Ibk4BpX9iBmGGkHvDXbwwAZVtwKfj6iEo3TszxxUyU31IE6Cl4pB9jWljqH4T1iuy7-S5qE6HRJoC1PI-rhokaiTayFoV118va22gILt22Hds/s400/photo-117.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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You'd think that you could trust something this cute, wouldn't you?! Yeah, but then you'd probably think you could trust my daughters too, and I can assure that that's NOT the case! Apparently cute and trustworthy isn't a theory that holds for cats either.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiwHgk0iDnYoewSj8VIvsAq1CJV9RiY1BNSPipVO-IgZOcngS3QppqLwEcEtYbbPmypN3c8OJY4zh55Fh7MTtvBA6JuvJ-H2Nam5ux1EMNABTr70zFWdJQ3aLkORUrqqvGsFABmLywqyo/s1600/photo-118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiwHgk0iDnYoewSj8VIvsAq1CJV9RiY1BNSPipVO-IgZOcngS3QppqLwEcEtYbbPmypN3c8OJY4zh55Fh7MTtvBA6JuvJ-H2Nam5ux1EMNABTr70zFWdJQ3aLkORUrqqvGsFABmLywqyo/s400/photo-118.JPG" width="298" /></a></div>
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Anyway, this is Sabrina now. She's a bit rounder around the middle than she used to be and a lot bigger in general. Here she is pretending to not be lying on my table. She'd never do that! She's a good girl.... right? Yeah, maybe not. But here comes the attempt on my life!</div>
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This is it, people. This is Sabrina in ninja cat assassin mode! She looks sweet and innocent enough, but no! She may look like she's just lying there, but she's lying in wait! Eventually someone will try to go down the stairs and fall right over her.... and it'll probably be me!</div>
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So anyway, I'd write more and tell you all about my awesome time with my first piano lesson since I was 7 years old which I had tonight, but I'm busy trying to stare down my cat. I'm really hopeful she'll blink first and I'll establish superiority. At least that way maybe I can sic her on MPH and sleep easy tonight. I'll let you know how it goes. In the meantime, I leave you with this handy little quiz to see if your cat is plotting to kill you, too! You're welcome!</div>
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<br />The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-55845727761106913762012-09-09T21:49:00.001-04:002012-09-09T21:49:25.502-04:00You Know You're In Trouble When...It's going to be one of those posts tonight where I talk about my children, dear readers and loyal subjects. Actually I'm going to talk about one of my children because she makes me laugh... even though I realize this same child will likely be the death of me before it's all over. Yes, my youngest (the one who learned to use the F word a week or so ago (<a href="http://queenofallthingsgood.blogspot.com/2012/08/not-mom-of-year.html">Click here if you missed it</a>) has been at it again this weekend. Thankfully she was profanity free but somehow that doesn't stop her from getting some rather pointed comments in. And she's only 6!!! I am dooooooooooomed!<br />
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This has definitely been me this weekend.</div>
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It started out innocently enough. Friday night I looked at this beautiful girl... my baby... and told her, "You are one of the most beautiful children I have ever seen." It was meant as a compliment. She truly is a lovely little monster.... I mean child. I didn't quite get the response I had anticipated, however. Instead my child looked me straight in the eyes, waited a beat as if to make sure she heard that right and asked me, "One of?" Yes, people. She went there! MPH was next to me and laughing hysterically. I stared blinking after her as she turned and walked out of the room. As she was leaving he yelled, "Baby, you're THE most beautiful child I'VE ever seen," which rewarded him with "Yes!" yelled back over her shoulder, and left me wondering where I'd failed as a mother. Doomed, I tell you!</div>
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Today, I got something a bit different. We're riding in the car and she's behind me blowing raspberries over and over and over again. I ask her to stop, but she explains that she has stuff coming out of her mouth and she's watching it. I groan and inform her that she's simply spitting and I'd like for her to stop. At this point she assures me that she's not spitting because whatever is coming out is floating in the air so it's definitely not spit. Since I'm driving, I figure it's poor form to bang my head against the steering wheel but after a moment, I call back over my shoulder "What else do you figure it is coming out of your mouth if it's not spit?!" Well, I should have realized she would have some kind of answer to that question. What I wasn't prepared for was what it was. "Maybe it's a superpower!" Yup, you got it. My six year old is claiming super power raspberry blowing ability. On days like today, I'm awfully glad my own super power is awesomeness. I'd hate to be stuck with the whole super spitting thing.</div>
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So that's my six year old in a nutshell. What I'm left wondering, however, is if these little situations are addressed in all those parenting books that I failed to read. I'm figuring I'm doing something wrong somewhere. I'm just hoping that I'm letting her achieve just enough weirdness to be interesting later. Also, if those parenting books are able to anticipate the things I deal with with this child in particular, I'm betting they're a lot more interesting reading that I ever figured!</div>
<br />The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-73776368972896993912012-09-07T23:00:00.000-04:002012-09-07T23:00:01.860-04:00Curse You, Joss Whedon!!!It is official, people. The Queen is in mourning. It's been terrible. It's been awful. I might not survive this particularly morose period of time. There's only one thing that I know that will truly, truly help.... MORE FIREFLY!!!! No, that's NOT like more cowbell. Cowbell can't cure this. I realize I've come to the party 10 years late but I have discovered Firefly. I have loved.... and lost. And this is just totally not okay!<br />
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So for those of you who know what I'm talking about already. Thank you. I accept your condolences and share your pain. If you don't know what I'm talking about, it's okay to come out from under that rock. I did it and it was safe enough... unless you count having my guts wrenched out in my current devastation. Okay, the gut wrenching makes it SOUND like it isn't safe, but truly some things are worth it. This is one of them. Just for those of you who really don't know, Firefly was a television show... a GENIUS and BRILLIANT television show that lasted only one season about ten years ago. Joss Whedon managed to toss this out into the cosmos way before he got around to that whole Avengers thing. It was fantastic but cancelled after the first season only to find cult fame status with the release of the DVDs. So large and avid was the fan base that years later a single movie was made, called Serenity. Yup, there's our background and here's why I'm traumatized.<br />
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I blame this on one of my friends. I'm not speaking to him anymore. He's been telling me for years that I needed to watch Firefly and somehow he finally convinced me to do it about a week or so ago. Turns out Netflix has the whole series available for streaming (Run! Do not walk! Run and watch this if you haven't!). Anyway, I started the series, got three quarters of the way through the first episode and pronounced the whole thing crap. Yup, I hated it. I didn't like any of the characters. I didn't like the plot. I didn't like anything. So I cut it off and went to bed. Little did I plan on MPH (My Poor Husband) and one of his insane rules of life. It's pretty much his favorite rule, now that I think about it. It goes like this. If you start to watch a movie, you have to watch until the end. If it's crap, at least you'll know that if you ever come in at any point of the movie ever again and will know to cut it off/change the channel or whatever is appropriate. I tried to tell him that this was a TV show, but he insisted we finish it anyway. So really, I could blame him... what have I been thinking?! Of COURSE this is MPH's fault!!! Yup, it always is.<br />
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So here's the deal. I have now finished watching all 14 episodes of sheer goodness. I have fallen madly in love with each and every main character. These people are REAL, I tell you! They are fabulous, and I NEED them! I was sustained for a few days there by the fact that I still had the movie to watch so it would be better.... but I finished that tonight too. I am currently typing this from the floor where I have decided to wallow until someone brings back Firefly which will give me the will to get up and live again. Send help! I did, however, decide to enlist a few of my little friends to help show you how wonderful this show is and how important it is to BRING IT BACK!!! So ready? (Warning: This is going to be a lot more fun for those of you who already share my pain. So for the rest of you... go watch the series then come back! You'll thank me.)<br />
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You can really always count on Inigo in a fight. I'm just sayin'.</div>
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*sniffle* This is TOTALLY the truth! </div>
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I am so not getting over this.</div>
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This, too, is just simple truth. Where's a Reaver when you need one?!!! Oh wait, River beat them all up!</div>
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This, dear readers and loyal subjects, is how you know you're AWESOME! (Well you read the blog so you get honorary awesome status even if you don't know what I'm babbling on about tonight. You're welcome.)</div>
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Yup, even kids shows are dying without their Firefly! This is from The Fairly Odd Parents (Yeah, it's a fave. No one is shocked by this).</div>
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No, Early. No, it doesn't! I'm so glad you get me.</div>
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And this one is just for me... because the quote makes me smile!</div>
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So anyway, I'll spend the weekend eating cupcakes and lying around moaning and things to get some much needed sympathy. If any of you need me, feel free to bring chocolate and I'll consider perking up. Just so ya know. *big sigh* Alas, I suspect I will really survive. No fears. Another couple of days, another Firefly marathon and everything will be SHINY!</div>
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<br />The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-76205238092922064502012-09-05T20:55:00.001-04:002012-09-05T20:55:06.567-04:00My Masochistic TendenciesWell, it's official, my dear readers and loyal subjects. The Queen has a masochistic streak that's apparently a mile wide! And what has fed this streak lately, you ask? (Of course you do. You might not have realized you did but trust me. Would the Queen lie to you?) It's that current addiction of mine, that evil time consumer, the bane of my little ADHD mind.... Pinterest!<br />
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Okay, so here's how this went down. I spent the last weekend of the summer at the beach this past weekend. Having spent the last two years working from home... online.... sitting at a desk all day instead of running around a large facility like I used to, I've noticed that I MIGHT have picked up an extra pound or two... or thirty. Whatever. Anyway, now that summer is over, I finally decided that it was time to get rid of those pesky pounds. Honestly, it's not so much that I need to diet as that I need make some generally healthier choices about what I do eat and getting exercise. So anywho.... I've actually been doing very well with this and being much more responsible... you know, for the three days or so that I've been working on it. It's the small victories that count, people. But somehow something caught my attention today on Pinterest and well... the Queen went wild. Yes, people! I give you my most masochistic pin board ever! I give you... CUPCAKE GOODNESS!!!<br />
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That's right. I admit it. In my sugar deprived state, I found a picture of this amazing cake! I stared at it a few times then finally pinned it because it was simply beautiful. But I really didn't have an appropriate board for it. So what does that mean? It means I make one! And once I had a board with a cake on it OBVIOUSLY I had to take the next step! And there's one thing the Queen does dearly love, and that is a cupcake! So Cupcake Goodness was born and I spent the next hour or so tormenting my responsible, healthy, determined to get rid of this extra weight, dying for a cupcake self! But check this out! How could I really NOT pin this stuff?!<br />
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Look at this!!! It's a cupcake.... ON A CUPCAKE!!! How could it possibly get better than this?! (To be fair, MPH just came up with a way. It involves putting two mirrors on either side to make an unending series of mirror images, but honestly after about a hundred or so, that's just getting greedy.) </div>
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But wait! That's not all!!!</div>
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Now as far as I'm concerned, these were just made for ME! Look!!!! They're Queenly cupcakes! All the sugar but with a CROWN! Life is good. I am about willing to just lick the screen for these babies!</div>
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And just when you thought it couldn't get any better.... I give you leopard print cupcakes! Yes, people, it's true! These cupcakes match my favorite shoes! These would be to die for even without the sugar. Well, okay. Who am I kidding. I love that sugar!</div>
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It turns out that if you look hard enough, though, you can find more than just the cupcakes themselves. So for the piece de resistance, I now give you a combination so fabulous, so awesome that these can only serve one purpose! I give you...</div>
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Super Queen's SHOES!!! Yup! These are them! When the Queen dresses up in that most stylish of superhero costumes and transforms into her alter ego, Super Queen, THESE are the shoes she wears. In fact, I am sending the ever fabulous and ever helpful Butlette on a mission to purchase a pair for me. So Tammie, wherever you are right now, you get out there and bring me back some shoes!!!</div>
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Kiss kiss, everyone! I'm now going to go stare at the healthy dining choices in my refrigerator and cry. *sniff sniff*</div>
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<br />The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-78076506515137098652012-09-04T21:31:00.005-04:002012-09-04T21:35:20.628-04:00Blue Moon Gone WrongThis past Friday was a blue moon. It was the second full moon of the month of August and it was something I was looking forward to seeing from the beach where we were headed for the weekend. I love a full moon. I always have. What I didn't love was the complete chaos that seemed to follow me around on this particular full moon! Have you ever had one of those days that you figured could only be righted by a do-over? Well Friday was that day for me. Oh blue moon... how could you do me like that?!!!<br />
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Isn't this moon pretty? Well no. It turns out it isn't! Okay, it is, but my day wasn't!</div>
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It was one of those days that I simply shouldn't have left bed. Or maybe it was one of those days where I simply should have hidden under my desk. By the end, it was so filled with chaos that the people who work with me were all willing to hide under THEIR desks had there been any chance that I would accidently walk past and infect them with my blue moon luck! Honestly, it really started out fine. I was being nice to my daughters and after they begged the night before, I'd relented and said they could stay out of school on Friday to go with MPH (My Poor Husband) on down to the beach early on Friday morning to start on their weekend early. That should have gotten me some good karma points, right? I'm the cool mom! I'm the one who lets the kids play hookey on a rare occasion! I totally rock, right?! Well.... apparently not that much.</div>
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It started out with all of the family but me getting ready to leave for the beach so I'd be alone to work for the rest of the day. That's when it began to fall apart. MPH came upstairs and told me they were delayed. Apparently his car battery was dead. That was no big deal. A quick run to the auto parts store would get him a new one. Then came his second visit. This time the tire on the trailer that holds the jetski that our kids love so much was flat... despite it being fine when he'd checked it the night before. Okay, now we needed to refill the tire too and see if it held. One trip to the car part store and one inflation later, things looked good. We had a battery and a tire that seemed fine now. They were off!... or not.</div>
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This one has nothing at all to do with my story but isn't it cool!!! I should have tossed Sabrina, my cat, up into the air and taken her picture with the full moon too. I'm betting that would have brought me something, but it probably wouldn't have been better luck.</div>
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Anyway, they'd been gone about 10 minutes when I got a call from him. I figured it was to tell me that all was well... what a fool I can be sometimes. All was definitely NOT well, unless you consider them pulled over onto the side of the road because of that tire again. </div>
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Queen: Did it go flat again?</div>
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MPH: Not exactly. I'm unhooking the trailer now.</div>
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Queen: On the side of the road?!</div>
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MPH: Yup.</div>
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Queen: Ummm, why?</div>
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MPH: Because the tire disintegrated.</div>
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Queen: Disintegrated?</div>
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MPH: Disintegrated... shredded... fell totally apart.</div>
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*about this time I hear my middle daughter yell from the background "Daddy said a bad word!!!!"*</div>
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Queen, sighing: She said you said a bad word.</div>
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MPH: Yes. I did.</div>
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Queen: After the whole situation with the baby saying the F word last week?!</div>
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MPH: The situation sort of called for it.</div>
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You know, I was hard pressed to tell him he was wrong there. Later my daughter told me what he'd said. She said "Daddy yelled 'Who made this piece of BEEP?'" And when I use the word BEEP here... that's actually what she said, bless her heart. Then she spelled the word for me. Apparently spelling is okay. Who knew? Anyway, at this point it seemed that most of the bad luck was really MPH's, doesn't it?! Yeah well that was about to change.</div>
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A few minutes later the blue moon finally came for me too. My internet went out. I know! I know! Horrors!!!! Well, actually it was. I work from home and online so no internet... no work! Definitely not good. I had people doing who knows what without me there to supervise!!! Alright, they were sitting there contentedly doing their jobs without me cyber staring over their shoulders, but they could have needed me!!! They could have!! So that was when I sighed, wondered what else could go wrong, and went to work on this new problem. It seemed to be the logical step to call up my cable company's customer service department. And miracle of miracles.... they immediately admitted that there was some kind of problem. They NEVER do that!!! They always spend a half an hour trying to make me feel like an idiot for not realizing that my internet WANTS to connect but that something I'm subconsciously doing is interfering with its ability to. Yeah, if you ever want to feel completely stupid, try telling my cable company that the internet is out while they insist it isn't. But it looked like my luck was turning with this call! Too bad it wasn't.</div>
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The girl I spoke to was very nice. She told me something was wrong and was running tests from her end to figure out what it was. She was helpful and nice and clear and competent and that's when I should have realized it was just too good to be true. And yup! That's when it happened. </div>
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Nice girl on the phone: Oh my God...</div>
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Queen: What's wrong?</div>
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Nice girl on the phone: We're having a very strong earth quake here.</div>
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Queen: Earthquake (while I looked around to make sure I wasn't having one too)</div>
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Nice girl on the phone: Yes... it's... very strong!</div>
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*shockingly she was really pretty calm while telling me this, or at least she was very professional*</div>
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Queen becoming a bit concerned and wondering if it was coming for me in a moment: Ummm, where are you exactly?</div>
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Nice girl on the phone: The Philippines. Can I put you on hold for a moment?</div>
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Queen: Ummm, sure! (You know, I did briefly wonder what she would have said if I'd said no. At this point I figured she had enough going on without me deciding to be funny about it, though.)</div>
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Nice girl on the phone: Okay, I'll be right back.</div>
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Queen... fill in this space with a few bad words and beep them all for me while I was on hold, thanks!</div>
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Nice girl on the phone, coming back: They say I need to evacuate this building. Could you call back in a little while?</div>
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Queen: Yes. Yes, I can. You stay safe and thanks.</div>
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(See?! I can be nice and considerate!)</div>
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I never did call back. I figured an evacuated customer support center was likely an empty customer support center. I called IT at my company and we figured a work around that ended up looking exactly like my set up before anyone ever started trying to fix it and left me with no clue what had happened to my internet! I still blame the blue moon.</div>
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Needless to say, I drove to the beach veeeeeeery caaaaaaarefully! Luckily, I got there in one piece! So the moral of the story here is.... well frankly I have no idea what the moral is. I guess I really just wanted someone to pat me on the back and tell me it's over... until 2015. I plan to definitely stay in bed that day!</div>
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Addendum: I should mention that several of the people who work with me really did decide that Friday was not the day to call, email, or deal with me if at all possible. In fact, I think I was told at least once that I should "Stay over there! I don't want it to rub off on me!" Interestingly, I did report the 7.9 earthquake in the Philippines to the people at work about 10 minutes before the AP did. The Queen knows ALL!!! Yup, I still rock.</div>
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<br />The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-15217055021522018022012-08-30T20:59:00.002-04:002012-08-30T20:59:39.034-04:00It's A Simple Question, Really<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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:</div>
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Queen: Have you seen Nigel, my gnome?</div>
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MPH: Have I seen Nigel, your gnome? Is that really the question you just asked me.</div>
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Queen (considering first in case it was a trick question): Ummm, yes. That was the question... Have you?</div>
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MPH (covering his face with his hands): Other wives don't ask this sort of thing.</div>
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Queen: Of course they don't. Nigel is MY gnome. I'm sure they have gnomes with different names. </div>
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MPH: Yes, I'm sure that's it.</div>
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Queen: Does that mean you haven't seen him?</div>
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MPH (groaning): And just what does Nigel look like?</div>
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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.</div>
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MPH (sighing): No. I haven't seen your gnome.</div>
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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.</div>
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Queen: Hanna! Have you seen Nigel, my gnome?</div>
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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 (<a href="http://queenofallthingsgood.blogspot.com/2012/08/handcuffs-and-how-to-use-them.html">you can check out her photography skills by clicking here</a>)... 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.</div>
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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...</div>
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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.</div>
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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, <a href="http://queenofallthingsgood.blogspot.com/2012/08/not-mom-of-year.html">As you can see by clicking here</a>, 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...</div>
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This is one of the bookshelves in my offices. Gnomes LOVE bookshelves!</div>
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After he had his fill of the books though, he wanted to spend a few moments getting reacquainted with Seymour... my plant.</div>
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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.</div>
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According to the baby, they also like to be worn as hats. Who knew?</div>
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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.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5R0Bfhgm-IC3TJciMSLfYLnkSs7PasRwQvidW9i8-MUBRvZ9TzcgIrslVH8JsPLa1U_Xd4i7k8NghQZuESOWRzcKzt6P-4pKENfC232zMWGKUO96NnZSJSzJwg0hlPt4jxi8GJ2M_K2A/s1600/photo-111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5R0Bfhgm-IC3TJciMSLfYLnkSs7PasRwQvidW9i8-MUBRvZ9TzcgIrslVH8JsPLa1U_Xd4i7k8NghQZuESOWRzcKzt6P-4pKENfC232zMWGKUO96NnZSJSzJwg0hlPt4jxi8GJ2M_K2A/s400/photo-111.JPG" width="298" /></a></div>
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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.</div>
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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?</div>
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<br />The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-60412775490467577632012-08-28T21:22:00.001-04:002012-08-28T21:22:49.009-04:00It'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. <a href="http://queenofallthingsgood.blogspot.com/2012/07/i-took-pictures-of-this-people.html">Click here if you don't remember that.</a> So with that kind of sound logical reasoning behind our game tonight, I give you... without further ado... my desk! And here we go!<br />
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This... is my desk:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMU83scCQIl6AjgDsSYjjqpbJ1YPIftgxHZq2HlPBSmH8TxK6eEsxBYbnT9K6pl7UYsnKVBukAEwLW0QG5WamCdNFL6uDY2mJ6IVFlQ_PaolKoQAMp0VBlRe6V8BmRbfUW2op3jmbJP7Y/s1600/photo-103.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMU83scCQIl6AjgDsSYjjqpbJ1YPIftgxHZq2HlPBSmH8TxK6eEsxBYbnT9K6pl7UYsnKVBukAEwLW0QG5WamCdNFL6uDY2mJ6IVFlQ_PaolKoQAMp0VBlRe6V8BmRbfUW2op3jmbJP7Y/s400/photo-103.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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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!<br />
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In the center of the desk, there are:<br />
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2 computers and a third computer screen attached to one of them.<br />
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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!<br />
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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!<br />
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On the left side there are:<br />
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books on writing, notebooks containing work information and spiral notebooks for me to keep track of "stuff" in.<br />
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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.<br />
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There's an old fashioned jar filled with gum balls.<br />
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There are printer cartidges to a printer that I don't even own anymore!<br />
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There's a Jenny Lawson/The Bloggess stick puppet that has been signed by Jenny herself! (She signed her own boobs, naturally.)<br />
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There's also a bottle of Bacardi tucked into one corner in case of emergencies.<br />
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On the right side we find:<br />
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Stacks of important documents that I meant to deal with months ago but still haven't. <br />
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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!<br />
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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.<br />
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My Cheshire Cat mug and a Winnie the Pooh and Piglet figurine.<br />
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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?)<br />
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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!...The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-17820168246813953412012-08-27T21:05:00.002-04:002012-08-27T21:05:43.290-04:00Bookish IntimidationIt 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! <br />
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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.<br />
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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...<br />
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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?!</div>
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From there I went to the blank book section because who DOESN'T love a blank book. There I found this little gem:</div>
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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?! </div>
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But that's where the lulling ended, I'm afraid. That's when I went to....</div>
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the craft section. (Insert ominous "DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUN" here please. Thanks!)</div>
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It started innocently enough. It was just a book, a book about Origami!</div>
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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!</div>
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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!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPP093V90kkkf3MUtBMurp_3QmnpssKeH0k_xgoE8uZYfom1VJArLRdPxov32CHQBetTwtqVsCOQZSpn1gskupoU7pzpkvuKV6pegaWW2MAL4CKyC0Ib83h7u3-M_y_On_P-_eloSrsw8/s1600/photo-97.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPP093V90kkkf3MUtBMurp_3QmnpssKeH0k_xgoE8uZYfom1VJArLRdPxov32CHQBetTwtqVsCOQZSpn1gskupoU7pzpkvuKV6pegaWW2MAL4CKyC0Ib83h7u3-M_y_On_P-_eloSrsw8/s400/photo-97.JPG" width="298" /></a></div>
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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.</div>
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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? </div>
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MIND CONTROL! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNLSiUf0oHKV5XPsmEOdmfKu7-mXGu9l-au8ZGRpISAcNaGOOVI959jqr6GQnGP6s9Mh07xIaWUOA29cXsOw413CwE9wEt42No3fOGjLzIejH0v2Xbpvyw6mC66fTS4m9uz770wFSRnhY/s1600/photo-98.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNLSiUf0oHKV5XPsmEOdmfKu7-mXGu9l-au8ZGRpISAcNaGOOVI959jqr6GQnGP6s9Mh07xIaWUOA29cXsOw413CwE9wEt42No3fOGjLzIejH0v2Xbpvyw6mC66fTS4m9uz770wFSRnhY/s400/photo-98.JPG" width="298" /></a></div>
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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:</div>
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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!</div>
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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!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2uaDpK9LE8RAoVYjZSafpzkJWYJrGJu9xoOSWRf21JkKeyWhTp0FN-DjUJMvrItJdxBEC7W8w8gEENsXzXStRUpbnHm9lvVg3jkX8zHTRRD29tcpOeWKaM4SvewJ0JM3YiTeALPNNW7s/s1600/photo-99.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2uaDpK9LE8RAoVYjZSafpzkJWYJrGJu9xoOSWRf21JkKeyWhTp0FN-DjUJMvrItJdxBEC7W8w8gEENsXzXStRUpbnHm9lvVg3jkX8zHTRRD29tcpOeWKaM4SvewJ0JM3YiTeALPNNW7s/s400/photo-99.JPG" width="298" /></a></div>
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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!...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN6bIWB80tsMyTeLhz2Ea4Du6FIwnf_8J6wXwX3_VjLTQB95apv2Ba8hV3HJSiVBDvLYh8jEo0mhyphenhyphenRRj2_HwqvCRZ0xpDzg82XD0sgBJgwU4ZgHDwgCvxIekunZbg8ZIMNbEWmdaVVWu4/s1600/photo-101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN6bIWB80tsMyTeLhz2Ea4Du6FIwnf_8J6wXwX3_VjLTQB95apv2Ba8hV3HJSiVBDvLYh8jEo0mhyphenhyphenRRj2_HwqvCRZ0xpDzg82XD0sgBJgwU4ZgHDwgCvxIekunZbg8ZIMNbEWmdaVVWu4/s400/photo-101.JPG" width="298" /></a></div>
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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!</div>
The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-66974681648049741362012-08-24T21:09:00.003-04:002012-08-24T21:09:43.053-04:00I'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!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCZGASsikJXgO-GbGzTxwcCP6ihLCTGQNHJg74VIVlBPgk_Gf8ZW2W8q4EGgnpkGJvpeNpYI2qQYNZvG4ZITeJ0GKtPWc3HewbEvEEf55geL74zBm4U8LB3WKmM3Bc0qIZVn3yH_VNOY0/s1600/photo-89.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="345" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCZGASsikJXgO-GbGzTxwcCP6ihLCTGQNHJg74VIVlBPgk_Gf8ZW2W8q4EGgnpkGJvpeNpYI2qQYNZvG4ZITeJ0GKtPWc3HewbEvEEf55geL74zBm4U8LB3WKmM3Bc0qIZVn3yH_VNOY0/s400/photo-89.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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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!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNxxkLsZwY022vZgFrDraNErQkc9lYtb3kfOJqnbMudsqjOgQKrzij5AqJJzwQuXi7Dgp5VJmHhkD9-i2PHQcF_1rBZuikbWkZGboVJjNfQ_wRJkpso9YoC0oUgaUCIjIjCiBZNLImNPs/s1600/photo-92.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNxxkLsZwY022vZgFrDraNErQkc9lYtb3kfOJqnbMudsqjOgQKrzij5AqJJzwQuXi7Dgp5VJmHhkD9-i2PHQcF_1rBZuikbWkZGboVJjNfQ_wRJkpso9YoC0oUgaUCIjIjCiBZNLImNPs/s400/photo-92.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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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!!)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEBGYGdPrChREYtNX6FczVSt5OdqTAnYCjP5qpRyYhYTOC8Rprdr9jCbNFvm46oFX1HSd4wR255iq5fX5JA3GPY5PeqXfvlYZiAlOQpqYn3N3I9Do1nRJN7ArcSeIpxp-_j5EQHFChIEU/s1600/8:24:1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEBGYGdPrChREYtNX6FczVSt5OdqTAnYCjP5qpRyYhYTOC8Rprdr9jCbNFvm46oFX1HSd4wR255iq5fX5JA3GPY5PeqXfvlYZiAlOQpqYn3N3I9Do1nRJN7ArcSeIpxp-_j5EQHFChIEU/s400/8:24:1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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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.</div>
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Yes, they do. Yes... they do! This boy will go far. I just know it!</div>
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This one I couldn't resist. It's not pterodactyl porn but so little is...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpD8a84qUDswUlu8h1Qj1xshzg52CQRtwPEldWwQZw5NDMLu3-JmdTRRa4R80NN34LzUJRhrorLXPb60dQZ2wBSJirwyreZ4TCn46m95q5VoTSbO1hrMofgPB_OSGBcbKwG4qualkKefo/s1600/8:24:8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpD8a84qUDswUlu8h1Qj1xshzg52CQRtwPEldWwQZw5NDMLu3-JmdTRRa4R80NN34LzUJRhrorLXPb60dQZ2wBSJirwyreZ4TCn46m95q5VoTSbO1hrMofgPB_OSGBcbKwG4qualkKefo/s400/8:24:8.jpg" width="273" /></a></div>
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Oh yeah, Baby! We're getting kinky now! I wonder if this tape has seen the pterodactyl porn.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3bvkwZX9QTuwe_2Lmb9uzYs7c0HrSUoJ_499mQ3yuBv7RL2HGJfzoxGI7U11wLadEobrzjj_vZHezJsDlHk3yO1kPv0R32-mrNfGp9P6Ag_aD4X_t6hwllIkds8ebrwOpvYPX__0YdWM/s1600/8:24:5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3bvkwZX9QTuwe_2Lmb9uzYs7c0HrSUoJ_499mQ3yuBv7RL2HGJfzoxGI7U11wLadEobrzjj_vZHezJsDlHk3yO1kPv0R32-mrNfGp9P6Ag_aD4X_t6hwllIkds8ebrwOpvYPX__0YdWM/s400/8:24:5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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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!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6vTv-qTNzvzocbS1ey08tZTQDUVNgoBCS8a_t5pamUqEPsdHrruRrJWhKhrgSLd7ScFSp9BXtb4mAzO9Hw3DD50tVpCtxYp77cDGEIBnvS3Yovbj60p-F6eQX_WVeR3cMaM5cdg870kg/s1600/8:24:7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6vTv-qTNzvzocbS1ey08tZTQDUVNgoBCS8a_t5pamUqEPsdHrruRrJWhKhrgSLd7ScFSp9BXtb4mAzO9Hw3DD50tVpCtxYp77cDGEIBnvS3Yovbj60p-F6eQX_WVeR3cMaM5cdg870kg/s640/8:24:7.jpg" width="273" /></a></div>
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And it's mirror for the win!!!!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisEZkzCvP3TQgssLZ2ky6A8R4yy22iGEfwXe2WS7dalAyHQhfrpnW-dH4uVPHLMVr6gEMgcoaxNU2eilAemp5X9NzD5acqT42B9QbZPEULD_uIv7EwpK1rDrVUwBTZ7UyLMB5007X24T4/s1600/8:24:6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisEZkzCvP3TQgssLZ2ky6A8R4yy22iGEfwXe2WS7dalAyHQhfrpnW-dH4uVPHLMVr6gEMgcoaxNU2eilAemp5X9NzD5acqT42B9QbZPEULD_uIv7EwpK1rDrVUwBTZ7UyLMB5007X24T4/s400/8:24:6.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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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!</div>
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Have a great start to your weekend, people! </div>
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<br />The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7229619478563156414.post-87462337808334912902012-08-21T20:49:00.000-04:002012-08-21T20:49:10.422-04:00NOT Mom of the YearWell, 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. <br />
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Disclaimer: If you can't handle a curse word or two, now is the time to stop reading. I'm just sayin'.<br />
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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.)<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwrPM-YB4pPERPY0vKbs4d9r01O83odzNAXyQeS_sOHuvo9kmP2qWgO1qrnOBq21Cro6BAAjwTT-EhbEModUWBBsEqlttmzF_ZYEN4UeT83aEoX6FSF3ixj1eO0dNhZ-xOmoRfPtjTF5w/s1600/photo-86.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwrPM-YB4pPERPY0vKbs4d9r01O83odzNAXyQeS_sOHuvo9kmP2qWgO1qrnOBq21Cro6BAAjwTT-EhbEModUWBBsEqlttmzF_ZYEN4UeT83aEoX6FSF3ixj1eO0dNhZ-xOmoRfPtjTF5w/s400/photo-86.JPG" width="298" /></a></div>
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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.</div>
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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.</div>
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Queen: Baby! That's not nice! We don't say that word! It's an ugly word!</div>
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Baby (looking half confused): Hate?</div>
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(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.)</div>
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Queen: No! Not that word. We don't use that OTHER word! It's not nice!</div>
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Baby: Fuckin'?</div>
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Queen (getting hysterical): Yes! That word! We never say that word!</div>
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Middle daughter who is oh so helpful: You say it all the time.</div>
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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!</div>
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Baby: Well that's the first time I've ever said it.</div>
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Queen: Good!!! Don't let there be a second time!</div>
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Baby: Well I just said it again for you so I've already said it a second time.</div>
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Queen (clearly not winning here): Then that's more than enough. No more with that word, okay? Promise?!</div>
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Baby (shrugging and clearly humoring her mother): Okay fine.</div>
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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:</div>
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MPH: Did she say "What word? Rabbit?!"</div>
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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. </div>
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MPH: Well she did use it in an appropriate context. Clearly, she hates that rabbit. I bet you were proud.</div>
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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.</div>
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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.</div>
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And there it is. It's a stuffed unicorn on her bedside table where that rabbit light used to be.</div>
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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?</div>
<br />The Queen of All Things Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04615651684973034711noreply@blogger.com3