Wednesday, May 16, 2007

The Answer

The answer to 9 truths and a lie will appear in the new blog.

Right next to the post about spanking.

Which is dedicated to those who haven't expressed any interest in knowing where the new blog is, and frankly, I'm a little sad about that.

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Protection

So, I've officially entered the witness protection program. New blog, new names, etc.

If you want to follow me and I like you e-mail me and tell me why I should let you be my friend.

You think I'm mouthy here...you should see what comes out of me when I don't need to filter.

Monday, May 14, 2007

9 Truths and a lie

I just LOVE these blogging games..

1. I only have one ovary

2. I skipped 5th grade.

3. I was in a major magazine (picture and all)

4. I changed schools 17 times before graduating high school.

5. I've been licensed to drive forklift, and for harness racing (horses)

6. I have seriously deformed toes

7. My Lady's Garden (sweeping hand motion) is pierced and tattooed-- hence all the grooming you keep reading about

8. I'm still angry that someone stole my Donny and Marie dolls in kindergarten

9. I've sung in a rock band

10. I've 'played for the other team' but it just wasn't for me.

I tag Speedwobble, Fex, Buck Nekkid and Gadfly (I mean he's top of mind after what he said about my cheesecake.)

Sunday, May 13, 2007

A Good Day Fishin'

They say a bad day fishin is still better than a good day at work. Well, what if you get to fish TWO DAYS IN A ROW?!
It was my weekend with the boys, and yesterday we did the train museum fishing and bike riding. Today, church, brunch with Maven and G Man, more fishing (I ran around the lake while my mom was the Master Baiter) and wrapped up with bike riding and playing in the playground.

I can't wait to go to work to REST!Karateboy and his first TROUT!




Tippy was more patient watching that bobber than any child I've ever seen!



I was there for the sun and the worms.

Thursday, May 10, 2007

Fuck it, bring me the cheesecake.

MILF Checkin-- how many weeks have I been saying the same thing? Weight same, body a wee bit smaller. But I did get a picture of myself from Walkamerica. A side view. I hardly recognized me.

So, for the 4th time, I sucked it up and took myself out to dinner. In a restaurant with napkins and silverware.

I chose the Cheesecake Factory because as a single person, I could easily get a table. And I haven't had cheesecake in a really, really, really long time. And if, in my head, I pretend to be Rachel Ray, I tend to enjoy the experience of dining 'al singlo'.

I think I was feeling sassy 'cause I'd just had my visit with my esthatician (sic?) and I always feel just a little bit tougher after someone pours hot wax on my most delicate of regions and rips out the hair by the root. Oh and my brows look fantastic. No mustache. No beard. {sigh!} So I was feeling pretty full of a cup of ME!

And I swear to GOD if I had to eat one more Cliff bar or Power Bar or Luna Bar for dinner, I'm going to scream.

So I sashayed into said restaurant, and when they asked, ' how many?', I answered, 'Party of ME!' ( I kid you not, you can ask the girl with the cute hair. That's what I said.)

She rhetorically asked who she should 'give' me to, and I said, ' someone with personality, please'. 'Cause I was on a sassy high. A force of nature. People, I am HEEEERREEE!

I sat down, ordered my drinks (water and diet soda). Drank them both before the waiter got back to the table for my order-- that's when he knew he had his hands full. I ordered the Steakhouse Salad. He felt the need to point out that there was no steak on that salad. I just looked at him. Then I told him to bring me the chocolate chip cookie dough cheesecake.

I dutifully ate my salad. Even had a little bread. He dutifully refilled my drinks. Both of them.

Then came the cheesecake. Because I have worked my ASS off since my last piece of cheesecake. I can't even remember when it was. It isn't that I was depriving myself...I just liked the results I was getting more than I wanted cheesecake.

This was the kind of week where lots of teeny silly things were just chipping away at me. I still carried my sunny disposition but there were tiny little chinks. I snip here, a snip there--and they left me tired and disappointed. And I really, really wanted to reward myself.

So he brought the cheesecake. With a SUPER amount of whipped cream. With chocolate chips on top. My smile was from ear to ear. I savored that first sweet, creamy spoonful. Then I hit some of the whipped cream. I methodically switched between the two enjoying every single sensation. I might have even moaned. Who cares. I was having cheesecake. (I took a picture, but seemed to have LOST my camera in the last 10 hours. Um..yeah, so picture to be posted later)

I ate thing whole thing and with each spoonful teased the hell out of an elderly woman in a wheelchair at the next table. That is until her filet mignon came came out. Then we were even.

So bring on the freakin' cheescake people, 'cause you only live once.

(oh and another plus? Someone told me that I've graduated from future MILF to full MILF. I feel like there ought to be a ceremony or something)

Indecent Proposal

Last night after kickball, it was drink time. I look forward to drink time.

As always Buck Nekkid led the conversation with a thought provoking question. He asked the men, 'How much money would someone have to pay you to have anal sex?'

For clarification he added, 'Catching only'.

Well, after we got done laughing at the thought, there was great debate amongst the men. Buck apparently would go pretty cheaply at about $450, while some others were talking at least a million.

I, for once kept quiet. I'm sure I had that quiet, pensive look on my face and my right pointer finger rubbed its way across my bottom lip. Buck is the only person who seems to recognize that far off glaze in my eye and the finger move as my thinking pose.

The conversation continued with debate about what size you'd let in and how long it could last, etc. Naturally, the next discussion was oral. How much would convince you to give someone oral?

Almost everyone (ladies included) agreed that oral is much more intimate and would clearly command a bigger bounty. Those who disagreed debated, and we laughed our asses off.

My personal answer was, 'Whatever the market will bear....' I want to get a ridiculous amount of money for as little work as possible.

Of course, I was still thinking. What could I do that would be enough to take away my short term money stress and yet leave me with my dignity, health and reputation? HMMMM?

So, I think I'm going to look for a short-term sugar daddy. I was a sugar momma for years, but I did a terrible job. I'd even planned to sell my eggs to a fertility clinic until I was told I wasn't a good candidate (@$5k a pop, i could have quickly made a dent in my student loans).

So, what's left? A selling a kidney (which would totally eff up my triathlon plans) or whoring myself out. 'Cause being a barista at Starbucks isn't going to pay enough quickly enough.

{Note to Mom: No, I'm not going to sell myself. But it is an interesting business proposition.}

Wednesday, May 09, 2007

We Sing

Those who've known me for a while know that I sing all the time. Mostly when I'm alone or with the boys, but often. It is a release, it is fun, and in my head I'm a rock star.

So, imagine the warm tears of joy when Karateboy mentioned in the van Monday evening that he learned a new song in music. Frere Jaques. Well, we sang it in French, sang it in English, I taught him how to sing it in a round....we're nerds. I was totally Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music.

All those hours I spent when he was a baby playing Mozart and lots of other kinds of music are paying off. When the boys beg to hear 'Move Along' by the All American Rejects or 'More' by Matthew West-- I'll play them on the one condition that they sing along and LOUDLY.

Karateboy knows all the boy parts from Moulin Rouge. He's Ewan McGregor and I get to be Nicole Kidman. I'm working on the Les Miserables soundtrack. I like to be Eponine in 'A Little Fall of Rain'. Yep. That's how I spend my free time. Making my sons show tune junkies!!

(For balance, they're learning Karate...really!!)

One of the best compliments I received recently was from the pastor at my old church who missed me singing in the band. It means a lot, because my history with competitive singing went a lot like my history with competitive spelling. The pressure killed me and I failed.

See, district chorus tryouts were tough. And as an alto, you get the harmony part of this REALLY HARD song. I knew it. I knew it inside and out. I just blew it. And what I had to sing was UGLY. I can't compete and sing something that doesn't move my soul!!!

Then, when I wanted a solo in the choir in high school, I had competition. Instead of letting us fight for it, or choosing one over the other, Mr. Locke decided that Molly Mather and I would split the solo. I practiced like crazy. I was ready.

When it was time, live, in concert, Molly came in several bars early. Thoroughly throwing a choir of 200 people off and completely ruining my moment. Curse you Molly !! (admittedly she was probably just as nervous as I was, and who could blame her. Actually she probably saved me some sort of public embarrassment.)

There were only two other times that I sang as a teenager and there is video somewhere to prove it. I sang 'Take My Breath Away' in the spring concert, which is totally not within my range but no one had the heart to tell me. And I sang something in one of the pageants I was in. I just don't remember what. I think it might have been The Rose. 'Cause I can do Bette Middler.

All that training I SWEAR has paid off in this triathlon thing. I think I had a much easier time learning to breathe than the others. Not really a sport, but a muscle exercised nonetheless!

Kind of funny that my favorite songs these days are heavy metal ones-- but I require the singers to actually sing. There must be lots of drum and screaming guitars. There can be SOME screaming, but mostly I'm in love with the melody. And the singing along. And I don't care if no one EVER wants to listen. It's just for me and I hope to pass that love onto the boys (I think I already have).

I'd love to learn to play piano and read music and tune my ear better. All in good time. All in good time.

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

Tribute to the Maven

I get some of my best thinking done while I'm swimming these days. Today I started thinking about who would be the perfect person to be by my side for my first triathlon. I've been saying that I need two, maybe three. One to pick up the remnants of my bike after I wreck, one to hold my hand in the ambulance and one to kiss me at the finish line. I've let go of the last one, but I really think the 1st two are important.

It would have to be someone who is supportive and wouldn't even by accident make a comment that will deflate my somewhat tentative confidence. They need to think quickly and see what I need before I need it, and yet not afraid to 'manage me' when I get defensive, indignant and otherwise bitchy. It absolutely has to be someone who isn't going to hate me later. Someone whose mere presence would motivate me, and always have the right thing to do or say.

As I was swimming along...I was thinking those requirements fit the person I needed by my side when I was going to have my first baby. While I loved STBX, motivation isn't his strength, and let's face it, if I growled, I wasn't sure how he'd react. (in the end he was my absolute savior with breastfeeding so he gets points)

Of course, I chose Maven. She's one of those kinds of friends. Actually a one of a kind friend. Never over does it so much that you feel indebted to her, let's you do just enough that you feel like it's all even. She has saved my ass over the years in soooo many ways.

And I have failed miserably as a friend.

Her birthday was last week. Our schedules kept us apart, and I couldn't seem to find the most truly special thing I could to let her know how important she is to me (oh my God I'm misting). So I sent her a list of options. SHOULDN'T I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT SHE WANTS? WHAT KIND OF CRAPPY FRIEND AM I GIVING HER WORK LIKE THAT!! Then, I had house guests and a crammed schedule. And isn't it just like me not to check in on my favorite family? I found out Monday that she had been sick. I should have taken the time to bring chicken soup, but instead I played mini-golf.

So anyway, this is the blog post I SHOULD have written in honor of her birthday.

Maven is the friend who:
  • makes you dessert when you feel like your world will never be the same
  • stands back and lets you make a teeny fool of yourself because she knows that's the only way your gonna learn--- and gently makes sure you don't go overboard
  • shares a ton of secrets and jokes
  • saves my ass at work regularly by keeping me in the loop on stuff I don't get to see from the ivory tower
  • is my children's 'Safe Side Adult' and I absolutely trust her implicitly with their care and welfare
  • amazingly loves me no matter what I do or say
  • wanted to be my friend at a time when not many people wanted to hang with STBX and I
  • introduced me to a whole community of people that love me for me
  • shows me by example how to balance being a woman and a professional and a mother
  • shares her home, her food, her children, and yes, her husband-- willingly and with an open heart
  • thinks about how fantastic your sassy new hair cut is while she can't seem to sleep at night
  • brings you a dress she loves from her own closet because she thinks it will fit you perfectly
  • is always adapting and changing and growing in the most amazing ways
  • even though we don't agree on everything provides an easy sort of friendship-- without the drama
  • brings the bourbon slushies to every event
  • I could keep going for hours

So, happy belated birthday Maven. Thanks for everything.

(if you must comment, please comment on her blog-- send her the love!!)

Monday, May 07, 2007

Monday Update

So, where did I leave off with White TShirt guy?

Here is the summary: Two lonely pissed off people looking to have fun, hang out and process this divorce shit with someone who completely understands. It's like a fix, and while I look forward to more TShirt time, I'm happy to have my routine back. He's back home dealing with personal stuff and I don't know when we'll get a chance to hang again.

Friday and the rest of the weekend I hosted a troup of girl scouts from northeastern Pennsylvania. Their fearless leader is one of my dearest friends, and it saves them boatload of money to stay at my house rather than a hotel. She's the kind of friend you can hand the keys to your house to at any moment and know you'll come back to it better than you left it. She's just that kind of woman. So comforting to know that she's taken so much of her time to get into this fantastic organization that shapes the minds of young women.

And what a group of young women it was! I often forgot they were teenagers (much to the dismay of the leaders :-) ). The second leader I hope becomes a friend as much as the first, I really, really enjoyed her. I enjoyed the girls...it was truly a fantastic experience.

I did learn something about myself, though. I have always been the kind of person that MUST be surrounded by crowds of people. I generally have no personal space needs and frequently invade those of others. However, I noticed this weekend, I actually need some downtime. Not necessarily ME time, but I was exhausted, not from the walking or anything, but just from being engaged. Imagine, there are introverted cells in this body.

I really had a difficult time with the patience, understanding and democratic process involved with Girl Scouts. My 'you snooze, you lose' attack approach to life wouldn't fit here. It wasn't because I wasn't in charge, necessarily, because I did everything I wanted. It was just exhausting watching the leaders research options, present options, lead a vote on options and then explain themselves 9 times, 9 different ways.

Such is the life of parenting teenage girls, I guess.

Thank God they were bright and funny and beautiful and a pure joy to be around. It was such a gift that I felt like a nudge for dumping out early on Saturday to rest up for Sunday's workout. We were going to run together on Saturday, but we stayed up really, really late and didn't make it. But some day, we're going to do it, and I'm going to love it. I'm excited to see what the next generation of women will do when it's their turn to be in the lead....this group something special.

Then the boys came home and I had to squeeze a whole day of lovin' into an hour. Tippy asked me to take off his training wheels. There was nothing I could do to change his mind. So I did. And I let him fall in the grass a few times. And he decided he liked his training wheels.

Karateboy thought it would be fun to pee on the pine tree in front of the house, but his father caught him, and he spend the rest of the evening in his room. It isn't like we don't have indoor plumbing.....

I'm so happy to be at work so I can rest......

Sunday, May 06, 2007

I survived...and I CAN'T WAIT TO DO IT AGAIN!!

I survived....and I CAN'T WAIT TO DO IT AGAIN!

OK, sure...great few days with White TShirt, loads of fun hosting the girl scout troup from PA, but I'm talking about today. Those other things are for other posts.

This morning was my first full triathlon workout. That is, 1000 yard swim, 17.5 mile bike, 5k run.

When I was a kid in NEPA, the Super Dooper Looper roller coaster was new at Hershey Park. All the coolest kids rode it and got these neat shirts that said, 'I Survived the Super Dooper Looper'--- I soooo wanted one of those shirts.

That thought kept me giggling through the toughest parts, because I want a shirt that says 'I Survived the Iron Girl'.

So, I finished in less than three hours. The only part that didn't simulate the actual race conditions was the swim was in a pool at the gym and you got to rest driving to the bike route. Oh, and of course, there weren't 1799 other people along side me.

So I swam the 40 laps. What do you think about while you're swimming for a half an hour? First and foremost I'm thinking about my stroke, and how many strokes per lane. I'm paying attention to my breathing and reminding myself to slow down. I slowed down a lot and it took me an extra minute or so to do the 400(which is the distance for my 1st race in June)-- I didn't care because I had anohter 600 to go. Other thoughts snuck into my head, stuff from last week, funny things people said, and thinking through work stuff for next week. Lists, I make lots of lists.

After the swim, I put on dry clothes...you don't get to do that in a race! It was not easy to get dressed...cycling clothes and running clothes are tight and they don't go easily on a wet body.
In the car, I ate something quickly and cranked up the music, but CRAP! Forgot my IPOD!!! Oh, the radio, I guess...meh!

Got to the park, parked, realized it was 50 freakin' degrees! That's cold when you ride a bike and COLDER when you're still wet from a swim. So I put on as many layers as possible and hopped on my bike. I took the slow and steady approach, enjoyed the downhills even though my nose was running and it was COOOOOOLD! (lucky I had my knit elmo gloves in the car-- but now they're in the laundry 'cause I had to wipe my nose on them-- and the sleeve of my jacket)
Killed the hills, got passed by my team mates who are doing the longer triathlon. We talked as they blew by me...oh well. What was I thinking while I rode totally alone? Sunscreen. I forgot sunscreen. Oh crap, shift. Not with that finger STUPID! Pointer finger means EASY middle finger HARDER!! Stupid! Shift back shift BAAAAACK! Ahh....downhill...FUCK IT's COLD. I forgot chapstick. My lips hurt. Damn! Another hill!!!

It was cold at traffic lights, it was cold on the downhills. Ugh! Got to take it easy to save my legs for running.

I hate the running. You know how I hate the running. But, I could sit at my car and whine or I could suck it up and get it over with. So I chose the latter.

Of course, my MP3 with new batteries didn't work AGAIN...but I ran alone, and got one 'you go momma' from a lady who was walking with her kids. I sorta missed running into my team and was only able to give a couple of people shit.

I did see a beautiful cardinal. That was nice. But my legs were screaming. I did it. I finished.
I came home, took a bath, then a nap.

I can't tell you how much I love pushing myself this way and how much I'd hate to go back to my regular life.....ahhhhhhhh.

Saturday, May 05, 2007

New Blog

I've been seriously considering the new blog for quite some time. I need privacy. And he needs to get his own fucking life.

So, e-mail me suggestions for names and if you want to be on the list once I get it up and running... esmerelda05@gmail.com

Everything I think of, I know he'd think to search on it...the prick.

Friday, May 04, 2007

Happy Friday!!

'Tis the triumphant return of Hot Monkey Sex Friday. With no particular topic to discuss today, I'd just like to review the insane amounts of alcohol I've had over the last few days. I still managed to get my sorry ass to work, and be a good mom, and hang with HIM.

It's a shame that pain in the ass X husband of mine wants to be so far up my ass that he reads this. I really hate having to hide what I have to say.

Enjoy your weekend, I'll definitely be smiling.

Thursday, May 03, 2007

So....how'd it go...

Yes, I've gotten lots of questions from ya'll, so here is the update.

We ended up having lunch, lolling on my patio for a bit, then to the mall for some light shopping. At some point we decided that mini golf sounded like fun, so off to the links. But first, we changed into our new clothes in the parking lot (we were wearing jeans and it was hot and he'd bought some shorts and I'd bought a skirt). Good times.

We had a blast. Nothing like playing hookey on a sunny afternoon and hanging with a friend. One of the 'water features' had what appeared to be several thousand tadpoles. So when we were done, we caught some and brought them home for the boys. If anyone has tadpole raising advice, I'd love the help. We'll be making a trip to the library today and surfing wikipedia.

We finished up in time for me to pick up the kids and get to kickbal. Excellent games. The rowdiest yet. He came to watch us play, and a few of us went for drinks afterward.

I don't drink often, but I knew he'd make sure I got home, so 5 or so margarita's later my other team mates called it a night. That's when HE took me to another bar.

Mind you, I'm wearing my kickball clothes, I'm sweaty and my hair is in pigtails. We're at this club on ladies night where everyone else is dressed to the nines. I HAD A BLAST! It is so much more fun to go out like that when you don't give a shit.

So, we stumbled in around 1. And talked for a while. And somehow I ended up laying on the couch in his arms. We slept that way most of the night. It was nice. I think we both sort of needed it. No groping or anything that would perk up GMan's ears. Just laying.

At some point, I thought I heard the boys, so I went upstairs and crawled into my bed. He woke up with us this morning and we talked for a while.

I logged back into myspace and deleted the message I sent asking him if he WANTED to be the guy in the white shirt. I don't want to know in advance. Too much crap is up in the air and I like being able to speak freely and fart when I have to. And I could use a friend to let my hair down with. And if it is HIM that's fine.

*****Thursday afternoon update*********
We had lunch (I'm working a full day, of course) and I got back to the office to find that he'd received the myspace question asking if he WANTED to be the guy in the white shirt. In essence, he said he did, and I responded 'GOOD'. And it made me smile. And blush.

OH, and for those of you confused by the whole, 'friend who is staying at my house' thing. He lives several hours away. He has some stuff to do in town, and rather than drive home and back again, he asked to crash at my place and hang out between meetings. So I said SURE! Just like I'd do for any of you. While we've spent a lot of time chatting online, and we'd met in the past, our meetings were so long ago neither of us remembers, but we move in the same circles and know the same people. So it isn't like he's a stranger with a key to my house. Just a friend I hand't totally met yet.

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

This is what high school must be like.

I'm considering removing the man repellent out coating I added about 8 weeks ago.

And I feel like a naked retard. And I want keep it on, and maybe add a layer in case I get stupid.

Why oh WHY can't I just be friends without wanting to...well...make it more...?? This friend is crashing at my house while he takes care of some business locally. We would have partied this weekend (given it is a kid-free weekend) but I'd already agreed to hotel a group of girlscouts from my friend Jaybird's troop as they visit DC.

It is so much safer in my hard candy shell. Really. Happy there. I know the rules, I'm in charge, I'm CONFIDENT in that shell. The sweet, oooey, gooey center doesn't serve me well in these instances. I have too much blinding, serene hope-- and mindless stupid romantic notions.

So I made up an excuse about needing to be in work today. Then I wavered. And I checked my schedule. Two meetings, I could be out by noon. But I still wasn't committed.

I mentioned it to someone at work who suggested that I immediately cancel the freakin' meetings and go hang with my friend....hard candy shell aside, he'd be a blast to do something with on a warm spring afternoon.

And I can't concentrate because he's said several times that he thinks the guy in the 'Melting Waking Dream' is him. I, of course, played it off. And he work a crisp white t shirt yesterday. And we went for drinks and talked for HOURS (which really isn't a stretch for me but it has been a long time).

It was all I could do not to cuddle up next to him on the couch last night. I can't tell you how I wanted to smell that shirt. Feel that feeling. But I didn't. And ya'll know what a big deal it is for me NOT to do exactly what I want to at the exact moment that I want to.

So I sent him a message on myspace this morning that asked, 'Do you WANT to be the guy in the white shirt?' Which totally blows that outer candy shell layer of rejection protection. Well, even scarier, what if he says yes. THEN WHAT? (it is sort of funny that he's in my house on my couch on my laptop getting that message)

I left him a VM that I'm out of here at noon. I'm going to do my meetings and get outta here. And hopefully have a great afternoon.

{gasp!} Either way it will be good. I wish I could recall that message. WHERE THE EFF DID MY OUTER COVERING GO?

I'm scheduling a panic attack at 12PM. Or, I'll go home and try to play it cool and it will be a Saturday night live skit. I'm retarded. Absolutely in 9th grade and retarded.

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

How Do I Reward Me?

Had a less than stellar swim workout this morning. I just couldn't find my groove. Probably because I only did one swim workout in the last week. You need frequency to keep up the skills.

But Wednesday night kickball wrecks my Thursday morning swim. What to do? Give up sleeping in on Friday? OH MY!

So I think I'm going to give myself a chore chart. Let the boys give me stars every time I work out. With a goal of 8 workouts a week, and two bonus spaces. So, each sport twice is 6 workouts, plus two spin classes, and maybe an extra bike ride or run or weight class thrown in.

But, do I give myself weekly rewards? What reward will get me to the gym at 5AM on a Friday to swim 1000 or so yards??? We're closing in on the critical 6 weeks before the first triathlon. So I need to step it up, if not remain consistent with my program. Not a time for slacking. Slacking is for September.

Of course the end reward are the triathlons....but hmmmm. How should I reward me...what is better than sleeping on a Friday morning?