Oh My Gawd Sodagirl!

Archive for January, 2009

January 17, 2009

I have a strong tongue. My dentist said so.

I’ve talked about having a strong tongue before, so probably no need to revisit that whole un-freaking-comfortable situation with my dentist but in case you missed it and are dying to know what happened, this is how the whole scenerio went down:

“I had an appointment with a new dentist, so I had a thorough check up and they did some xrays and afterwards, my dentist went over the xrays with me. As he’s showing me the different pictures of the inside of my mouth (which were super hot by the way because it could have been the inside of an octopus because no regular person can make heads nor tails out of them anyway) and he points to a particular xray and says, “see that?” Sure I saw it but I had no idea what I was looking at. He told me it was my tongue, which, and I quote, “I had to fight with that thing the whole time I was in your mouth. You have a very strong tongue”. Ummm awkward. What does one say to that? Gee thanks doc, I work that baby out like there’s no tomorrow. I mean who doesn’t want a strong tongue? It’s come in handy for me since I’m typing these days with it because MY ARMS FELL OFF. See how life works out?”

Ya, awkward. I’m not sure why I brought it up, but I’ve not been able to forget about it, so I’m sharing it again. Can never have too many tongue stories stored in your memory bank.

Anyway, this is going to be random and semi-boring with a splash of excitement thrown in, so if you have 2 1/2 minutes to waste, might as read on.

My poor daughter was sick for almost a week – it started last Friday night. And when I say sick, I mean sick. Who knew a tiny little thing could produce that much vomit? Um, ya. We need not go any further on that subject. You get the picture.

On a happy note, it’s warmed up here – apparently we (Alberta) have sent the cold air to parts of the USA, which they are referring to as the “Alberta Clipper,” and for that, I’m so sorry. We had those ball-freezing temperatures back in December, and I’m pretty sure that mother-effing deep freeze was compliments of our sister country, so it was only kind of us to return the favor. Besides, I honestly have no control over the weather. I know! Shocking! Spring is just around the corner – chant that until you start to get feeling back in your toes again. That’s what I did.

Guess what? It’s 12:44 a.m. and my 2 youngest kids are still up. Why? Because they’ve inherited their mother’s ‘night-owl’ personality and the ability to function on minimal sleep. I’m not sure whether I should be mortified or proud. Perhaps a bit of both. I will, however, be putting them to bed shortly.

Speaking of beds – I bought a new one! It’s our first official new bed. I’m not kidding you. My husband and I have been together nearly 21 years and when we first starting dating and decided shortly afterwards to live together (yes, in sin!), we needed a bed. So we bought a waterbed. You’re thinking, well, how could your new bed be your first bed if you bought a waterbed back in 1988? I’ll tell you – waterbeds are not beds. They are big blobs of rubber filled with water, that over time will give you a bad back (and spring leaks that will ruin your flooring!) and aches and pains years down the road that you never thought you’d experience. That’s why my new bed is my official bed. ‘Nuff said.

Anyway, bought a king-size bed and let me tell you, going from a horrible, lumpy, shitty queen to a deluxe king – heavenly. My back has thanked me for 2 days now. I’m fairly short (5′ 2″) and my sons laughed when the the bed was all set up – they had helped my husband get it ready and when they were done, they called me back to the room – and burst out laughing when I walked into the room. The bed is so damn high, I’m short and put the two together – well, they asked me if I wanted a stepping stool? Or should they go out to the garage and get one of the ladders? Smart ass bunch of brats I’m raising. Technically, I probably could have used the stepping stool but that is besides the damn point.

Here’s a photo:

You’ll notice I’ve painted my walls brown (or not, since you had no bloody idea what color they were before..however, look closely and you’ll see the painting isn’t done yet…) and we have no headboard yet (couldn’t find one we liked but hubby has promised to build me one…excuse me while I DIE LAUGHING. Not because he’s not capable…he’s a very experienced woodworker – it’s just that the man is so damn busy, that I’ll be old and/or dead before he gets around to it) and my nightstand is dwarfed by the size and height of the bed, so it looks absolutely retarded, thus making it impossible for me to keep it – just means I’ll have to buy a new one (it’s ugly anyway). Everyone has said, if you can spend money on a good mattress, do it – your body will thank you, and so far, that’s so true. And we were lucky – we got ours for 50% off. I so love a good deal.

One more thing before I go put my chillin’s to bed – have you ever had a call from a telemarketer that asks you to hold while they get around to talking to you? It’s bad enough that they call my home, but when I answer my phone with ‘hello?’ and I hear ‘can you hold for a very important message?’ um, ya, I’m not holding – YOU called ME. Remember? If you’re going to harrass me, at least have the decency to have a real person on the other end of the phone when I say HELLO………..*CLICK*.

Good night wonderful people.

PS…Go read my post about the trampy Kate Hudson. It’ll take you 30 seconds tops. Plus she’s sorta naked, so it’s worth it right? Right. Spankz.

Posted by Sassy @ 2:50 amHouse Hoopla,Just Stuff.,Nonsense5 comments  

January 7, 2009

I killed my husband. IN.MY.MIND.

After a 2-week Christmas break with my husband and my children, I was looking forward to Monday, January 5. Yes, we had a wonderful holiday, did some fun things, had a great Christmas, Santa was good to us and blah, blah, blah, but it was time to get back to a regular routine. And to my knowledge on Sunday, January 4, Monday January 5, was going to bring that regular routine. Except it didn’t.

We have two vehicles. My husband has a truck, and I have an SUV. Works out great since he uses his truck for work and I use mine to take kids to school/bus stop, to get groceries, do banking, whatever the freak I want.

My husband takes son to the bus stop before he heads to work. He uses his truck. After he left, I noticed my keys lying on the counter by the sink. Check. Get daughter ready for school, husband comes back for a few minutes before heading to work, I get myself ready and then, since it’s still a bit chilly, want to go start my vehicle to warm it up.

I go to the counter. Look beside the sink. It’s bare. No keys there. Hmm. Strange. I think to myself, no biggie, I have my spare set in my purse. I check my purse. No spare set of keys. Okay, let’s think. Where are the keys? I’ll call my husband and ask him.


Hi, where are the SUV keys? I saw them sitting by the sink earlier.

Oh, hang on. Oh, uh, ya, they’re in my pocket.

In your pocket? And is your pocket here?

Um no, my pocket is with me, way down south.

Okay, well….

Oh, and ya, I just found the second set of keys in my other pocket.

*Insert swear words here – I didn’t say them, but I sure thought them.*

I have to leave in five minutes.

I’m way down south, I can’t come back up there right now.

I slowly hang up the phone before I say something I will later regret. Okay, let’s not panic just yet. I holler to my daughter to come downstairs and get ready – we’re walking.

But mom, it’s a long walk.

Ya, well you’re young, and your legs work, so we’re doing this.

We get ready, head out and start walking down the sidewalk, get about half way down our street and a smile lights up my face. My son’s car! I remembered he’d given me his extra set of keys and door opener and they were in my other purse at the house. Sweet! We walk back up the street, go inside and I find the keys. I’m bubbling with excitement now. My child will be a few minutes late for school but not by much so big deal. I clean the car of snow, as it’s not been driven for a few days, and warm it up. I put that sucker in gear and nothing. Oh the car works fine, but seeing as it’s winter here and my son has bald summer tires on his car, it’s kinda hard to get the car out of the snow ruts it’s parked in on the street. I go forward and then reverse – to no avail. For 15 minutes I try to get that f*$% car out, but it’s not going. So much for my excitement.

We get out and start walking. I’m picturing the walk in my mind and thinking, what, like 20 minutes tops? No, it was a FORTY MINUTE WALK ONE WAY. This is where I’m killing my husband in my mind. My child complains that it’s a long walk, it’s cold and her feet are sore. Ya, suck it up, because you’re 8, and I’m old. You clearly have an advantage. You don’t hear me complaining do you? Sure, I’m swearing up a storm in my mind and killing your father with my telepathy, but whatever.

I get her there, sign her in and head back. Another 40 minutes. By the time I got home, my face was numb and my legs felt like jello. Since parts of the sidewalk weren’t clear of snow, it was a hard walk, lemme tell ya. I send my husband a text message telling him to please bring the keys back by 3 p.m. since I have to pick up both kids after school.

I do my regular routine, which included bitching to my two best friends about my crap morning and as the day goes on, I’m thinking that things will be better later.

It’s shortly after three, and I go out to wait in my car, expecting to see my husband driving up any second with my keys. I see no sign. I call him, no answer. I call back and finally get him, ask what he’s doing.

I’m working.

Uh, did you not get my text message?

No. I don’t do texting.

No? Um, I need my keys!

Well, I’m 90 minutes away.

Here’s where it gets hairy – I think I had a brain meltdown. I’m wondering how I’ll pick up my son, and then pick up my daughter five minutes after that when it’s a 40 minute walk? I proceeded to act like a crazy person, calling my husband back numerous times, upset that my daughter would be unattended for god-knows-how-long and now my son has no doubt got off the bus and is wondering where I am. I may have acted like a freak. I’m not certain – like I said, the smart part of my brain shut down, and I was left with shit.

I run inside and call him back and ask him if he knows anyone to call that could pick daughter up? He called a couple of people, but they weren’t available. In the meantime, I’m running through a list of taxi companies and start calling. I called the first one on the list, and it would take them at least 25 minutes to pick me up. Not good enough. I hear the door open and my son is home – he knew enough to walk home – he was upset that I wasn’t waiting for him, but didn’t panic and came home. Whew! One kid home, one to go.

I call my husband back and ask him if he can think of anyone else to call – no, he can’t. Fine, more swearing in my mind, more killing. I called NINE more taxi companies and not one answered their phone. WTF? They’re that busy on a Monday at 4 p.m? Finally, the next one I call, can get a cab to me in less than 10 minutes. I’ll take it! I ask how much it’ll be – explain it’ll be a return. Oh, between $33-35…..WHAT? It might be a 40 minute walk but it’s a freakin’ 10 or so minutes to drive there and back. Thirty-fucking-five dollars? Whatever, can’t put a price on picking up my kid.

Cab arrives and although I’m not experienced in taking cabs – I’ve never taken one since living here in the past six years, but I have taken one a handful of times in my life – I’m assuming the cab driver knows how to get to where I need to go. 1. He has a GPS. 2. It’s his job to know where the hell he’s going. 3. Yes, I know how to get there, but seriously, I’m not getting paid to drive there. But, I had to tell him how to get there. I want a discount dammit! We arrive at my son’s house (we rent it out to him) where my child is waiting, and I get her, relieved that she’s okay – she’d been waiting about an hour alone, outside – yes, she was in the fenced backyard, in a nice neighborhood, but still – I had visions of bad things happening. Thank goodness she’s an independent child who is very, very smart for her age.

We get home (and surprise the cab driver remembered how to get back to my house without asking me!) and I was ready to drink vodka straight out of the bottle and I don’t even drink booze. Ever. I may just start though. On a good note, the cab ride didn’t cost as much as the dispatcher said. It was actually less than 14 bucks, so that was nice.

It’s a day later and I’ve stopped killing my husband in my mind and someday I’ll laugh about this. Okay, I’m probably never doing to laugh about this but I did learn one thing – to always hide one set of keys from my husband. He’s a good man, just slightly absent minded at times when it comes to certain things. He’s great at his job and never forgets anything about that, but – Ask me how many sets of keys he’s lost. And atm cards. And wallets.

Posted by Sassy @ 12:39 amI want to Punch You in the Neck,Winter sucks balls3 comments  

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