You only wish this was your Christmas morning...

So, we live in and around Dallas.  Which made for a very exciting Christmas, because this year, we actually had a White Christmas.  Fun!  But snow apparently doesn't make things easier or more jolly.  Beer and wine do, actually, but that discussion is for another time...Christmas Eve, I worked a 1/2 day and was off at night.  Jeff worked at night.  So we managed to come together in between to buy a few final gifts and eat some Mexican food for a late lunch.  (the thought of not having the ability to eat Mexican food for even one day in our household is rather scary...)

Again, it was the night before Christmas, except many creatures were stirring.  And they were dogs.  3 of them.  One, in particular (Dexter) is, as we are about to learn, obsessed with snow.  AND we learn the fact (yes, fact) that he owns it.  ALL of it.  The other 2 dogs get to deal with this any time they try to step paw on that snow.  Mr. Dexter will be there and he will pounce on them in addition to bark over and over.  Basically he's saying, 'get off of MY snow, if you want to live'.  Very annoying, if you're anyone other than Dexter.  Which we are.  I eventually get them inside and try to avoid taking all 3 dogs outside together again.

To prepare for Christmas the next day, I'm baking/cooking, feeling very wifely, especially when I learn the apple pie baking will coincide with Jeff getting home.  He loves apple pie.  Well, Jeff finally gets home!  And I'm so exhausted, but I'm ready for help wrapping and putting all of our ornaments on the Christmas tree (yeah, that little task was still on the 'incomplete' side of my to-do list). 
But Jeff, although home, is feeling sick.  This is a BIG deal.  He's felt sick about 3 times in the 5 years I've known him.  So, I throw in the towel and say let's just go to sleep.  And I do.  He stays on the couch, hanging with the dogs and the TV for a bit more and eventually comes to bed.

In the morning I wake up to my phone ringing.  Mom?  Dad?  Brother?  Santa?!?!  No.  It's CVS Photo lab letting my know the pictures we ordered that weren't ready when we needed them are now ready.  8:30am.  On Christmas.  So, I turn to Jeff and my Christmas morning begins:

He asks, "Who was that?" I say, "CVS photolab.  Those pictures are ready now.  You should go up there since I think I almost made the manager cry last night."  Then I ask, "Where is Zoie?" (Dog #3 - usually sleeps in bed with us.) He says, "She died." Very sleepy-headed, with a smirk on his face, but then says, "That's what I dreamed." I say, "Really, she's dead?  Or is she in her kennel?"  Him, "In her kennel."  Me, "Did you really dream she died?" (concerned)  Him, "No."  Me, "Merry Christmas (cuss)hole."  He chuckles.  And then farts.  The morning has begun.
So, I get up and let the 3 dogs out.  As Zoie is taking care of some sort of personal business, Dexter notices she is, in fact, in his snow, so he runs directly at her.  He is a bowling ball and she is now the pin.  This is SO annoying.  I'm over it. And by the looks of the sky, the sun is, too.  I bring them in for "puppy chow" time and just shake my head at our rude, much larger dog.  Soon after they eat, Jeff's decided to join us all.  And then I hear, "No!  No!  No!  No!!!!  Nooooo!!!"  As I look up to ask what's happening, I see him picking up Zoie, and taking her outside.  "She peed.  ON THE COUCH.  She was staring right at me!" Jeff says.  So, we spend the next 20 minutes working on stripping our couch and cleaning the fabric.  Not one bit of this was on the Christmas to-do list.

But soon, I am finally able to get to present wrapping.  As I begin, I realize a certain husband-someone is on the computer in the other room, not helping.  So, I politely ask and he proceeds to enter the dining room, ready to help.  (REALLY!?!?  ALL I need to do is ask?  This totally beats doing everything, not saying anything and being bitter.)

In the middle of the wrapping he turns to me and says, "I don't remember having to do all this work last year."  He's saying it as though he thinks we were giving a lot more gifts than last year.  But, that's not actually the case, you see.  "That's because last year I did all of it."  There's the real reason, my friends.  "Oh, okay."  he replies.  
And the conversation during present wrapping time is mainly about what movie we will be seeing.  But as the clock continues to move forward, I quickly realize this whole movie-on-Christmas-morning thing is not happening.  Another Christmas argument.  Followed by our tree finally getting decorated.  Followed by getting ready to head to my parent's house.  Followed by the greatness of this discussion...
I will play the part of 'A' and Jeff will play the part of 'J' (Christmas music playing in the background)

A: do you think after all his hard work Mrs. Clause does something for Santa?

J: Mayb-

A: Like a bj or something?

J: He's like, 'I'm home...get on your knees'.  Yeah, what does she really do?

A: Well, there's that song.  "Who reads the list of Christmas joys?  Mrs. Santa Clause..." or something like that.  But she can't really do THAT much.

J: She gets the elves to do it all.  What does HE really do?!?

A: He's really just a manager, right?  I mean, he just leads them.

J: He bosses them around.  He doesn't know how to make all those toys.  But he probably does need to keep up with current techology.

A: Do you think he has a genius bar?  I have to dry my hair, so I can't talk anymore.

And then we head to my parent's to celebrate.  

It was a lovely morning.

My English must be all screwy and stuffs

So, last night I sent a message to my loving husband. The subject was ‘Dog Food!’ and well, screw it, here’s the message:

From: Atypical Alecia
Subject: Dog Food!
To: Husband@mail.com
Sent: Tue 12/15/2009 10:18 PM

You really, really need to bring it in tonight. They are completely out now.
Also, the garage….
Love you lots and lots.
Me


Then I went on to discuss other things, but you only need the first part of the message. And to know that I said I loved him. Because then you’ll think I’m a nice wife. Which I’m really not. So…that subject remained the subject line for the following 5 message exchanges. The dog food bag has been in the back of the car since I picked up the dogs after our Thanksgiving trip to Houston to see the in-laws. So…that’s over 2 weeks now.
Ok, ok. I’m not saying that I could not have brought it in at another time. But, it was in his car and there is rarely a time when he’s not home but his car is. And it always seems to be when he’s not home that I remember we need to bring the food in.
So…flash forward to this morning. I wake up, let the dogs out (we have 3). They come in the house, all excited for “puppy chow” time. Only to find…nope, no puppy chow for you jerks. “Jeff” * doesn’t think you’re important enough to remember that you eat food. So, I ask this “Jeff” guy: ‘did you bring in the dog food?’ Oh, no, he forgot. Well, “Jeff” you should probably go get it, ‘cause these f-ers are hungry.
And still nothing. He falls back asleep. So, I ask again. And again. And again. Probably totaling about 10 – 12 times. NO real response from “Jeff”. Then, I remind “Jeff” that although I am now ready to leave for work, I will have to go get the food and it’ll take me another 20 minutes to feed the dogs and take them all out. Again, no real response.
So, I go get it myself. And I feed those adorable animals that we chose to bring into our home and care for. I did it. Yup. And then I take them out.

Here is a translation of what went down:

Cast of Characters (all extremely adorable):
Dexter – 85 pound Border Collie / Sheppard mix
Dignan – 12 pound Min Pin / Toy Fox Terrier mix
Zoie – 6 pound Chihuahua / Min Pin mix
Me – already a bit-annoyed
“Jeff” – a non-factor in any of this part of my story

Scene begins with Dexter deciding to play a couple of games:

Zoie: (pooping)
Dexter: growls (runs RIGHT up to Zoie as she poops and knocks her over)
Me: Dexter, let’s go inside
Dexter: bark (run around the back yard)
Me: C’mon! Everyone inside.
Dignan: (pooping)
Me: Oh, sorry Dig, I didn’t see you pooping
Dexter: bark (runs RIGHT into Dig as he’s pooping)
Dignan: bark (actually more of a cross between a girl and a bird scream)
(chases after Dexter)
Me: Damn-it! Everyone! Inside!
(other 2 dogs begin to obey)
Dexter: (run around GRABS something resembling poop; runs around more)
Me: Dexter, sit!
Dexter: (runs around)
(other 2 dogs now have jumped on top of a concrete block in backyard, observing the idiots)
Me: No!!! Sit!!
Dexter: (growl; run around; growl; eventual sit)
Me: Inside! (defeated)
All head inside.

I have determined that something is up. My message stating the dog food needs to be in the house clearly was not clear. My reminders to “Jeff” clearly were not clear. AND my discussion with my dog about going inside clearly wasn’t clear. I don’t have a lisp or an accent or anything. So, I’ve decided that my English is not as clear as I thought it was. Clearly.

And maybe that’s why sometimes I find things that I’ve asked for aren’t being taken care of. I think I’ll have to do more research on this and I’ll certainly get back to you…



*To protect the innocent, some names have been changed.

Dentists are supposed to ACT like real doctors, right?

It's my day off today. Not necessarily by choice, but I'll take it. You see...I had a "full-time" job. In an industry that deals with home builders. REALLY great industry to be in right about now. And for the past 2 years. So, instead of go down in lay-off heaven I elected to proactively cut my hours. My "choice" but, really, who are we kidding? The economy MADE ME do it. Let's discuss this at another time, shall we? Thanks.

So...back to my day off. I typically enjoy these days off. Even though I am not making money, I still get some time to myself. To do what I want. And sleep. Catching up on sleep plays a huge part of these days. Plus, as you'll learn, I also have a 2nd job, working at night. No, you "trying to be funnier than me" stupid-face reader, it's not as a hooker. It's at a restaurant. But not tonight. Tonight AND today was all Alecia. No showering (which actually IS typical) and no make-up.

So, you can imagine my joy when I woke up to the reminder that I had an "emergency" dentist appointment. Let's go way back to Sunday:

~I woke up, ready to greet the day! Translation: my husband (yes, someone elected to marry me) had to work so I was woken up to those amazing sounds. Mainly, him hawking lugies, in what seemed like a game of him trying to clog our master bath sink. After a lovely kiss goodbye (re-read previous sentence to find reasoning why this isn't so sweet) I was able to get back to sleep.

Only to be woken up again by...my mother. She called to tell me she was coming over. So, I asked if I could go back to sleep until she arrived and she agreed.

The 3rd wake-up was to her arrival. This time, I had to actually get up and out of bed. In doing so, I realized my left eye was a little tender. Bug bite. Great. Even when I sleep things have to find a way to bother me.

Day moves on and this bug bite thing just itches and annoys me. But I can deal with it, because I'm tough. And I don't really feel like being a baby about it. Plus, football is on. (end of Sunday) ~

Monday morning: bite STILL there. And, apparently I've been grinding my teeth all night, cause there's this little knot on the side of my face, near my left ear. Ugh. But, again, deal with it. I don't have time to bother. Because I need a root canal and I'm not ready to have *that* done to myself. I don't care what anyone says: dealing with the slight pain is better than the drill noise.

Until the knot gets worse (eye isn't much better either). So...I go to the dentist because it MUST be related to this damn tooth. But he can't see me. Not a surprise - I did just show up, unannounced. Can you believe he is seeing other patients? Typical. But they CAN get me in the next morning at 7:00 or 8:00. I chose 8:00. On my day off. My day to sleep-in.

So, I'm in the chair and the dentist feels the side of my face and the lump. He says it isn't likely related to my tooth. (I think: WHAT? You are crazy...they have to be related). Then, he tells me it's a gland or lymph-node or something and asks if I've had an ear infection. I say, "No, but I have had a bite or something on my eye for a few days."

Pay attention to what happens now:

I remove my glasses and the dentist looks at my eye and pulls back his face, repulsed, and says: "Ewww." That's right: Ewww. My dentist said Ewww to me and my face.

Feeling like a million bucks, I can barely contain my excitement when he tells me I need to see a doctor and get on anti-biotics. And feeling fully confident in his doctor-skills after his "Ewww" assessment I just CAN'T WAIT to get in to see another doctor.

So, I thank him for his time and head on home.

I pop a Benadryl and crawl in bed. Somehow, I have also developed a screaming headache over the past 30 minutes. I really want to throw some Excedrine Migraine in the mix, but decide against it, since, well, I don't want that lethal combo in my system if I happen to die of shame.

And I sleep. On my day off, when I had planned to accomplish SO much. Shoulda known to add "feel even worse about self" to the list.

Thank you Dr. Dentist. Thank you for your truly stunning bed-side manner that made me realize I don't deserve a nice day off. Not with this hideous face.

Drivers Drive Me Crazy

Seriously. YOU have a license? That is legal? That is valid? To DRIVE A MOTOR VEHICLE? I don't believe it. How?

This is how I feel about 80% of the drivers out there. For real. It's absurd the number of drivers out there who don't follow basic traffic / driving rules. So, to help all of you horrid drivers out there (pay attention owner of the blue Chevy parked out there) I am going to do a basic run-down of driving etiquette.

Blinkers: Use them! You paid for them. You can get a ticket for NOT using them. Believe me - I've been a passenger in the car when someone (cough, cough, Jeff, cough, cough) has gotten one. They aren't super expensive, but they aren't cheap either. And, it's just plain courteous.

Merging: DO NOT CROSS THE DOUBLE WHITE LINE. I can see how this might be confusing. I mean all the letters from mainly the beginning of the alphabet mixed up with some from the middle and end of the alphabet. So, here's what that literally means: don't cross over the two white lines. Except the sign is yelling that at you.

Left Lane: Freeways / Highway / Toll Way / roads with more than 1 lane - every one of them has an understood "left lane is for passing only" rule. Don't get in that lane to teach someone going fast a lesson. They're in the lane TO go fast. Get the heck outta the way. Just do it and quit bitching.

Lane Change: (1st refer to ‘Blinkers’ section) then look over your shoulder BEFORE and DURING said lane change. If you *happen to* cut someone off, give a wave and apologize. Even if it’s fake, it’s just the right thing to do since you chose to drive like a doucher.

School Zones: Go the limit. Don't speed in them. You are a freaking idiot if you do. It angers the other drivers, too. Don't make them angry AND miserable. They just want to get to work so they can be miserable there. Leave the anger out of it.

Lights: Pay attention. That light’s gonna turn. And it will likely be happening in the next 20 – 45 seconds. So, just watch it. You know? Just kinda keep an eye out to see if that red light changes soon. And then, GO. To be more specific, push the gas pedal and head through the intersection. Don’t be an ass if someone politely honks either. Just drive. You have somewhere to be, don’t you?

Toll Booths: It’s not a secret you’re driving. Or that you’re driving on a Toll Road. Get your money ready ahead of time. You moron.

I’m mad now. At this 80% of you who can’t seem to get this right at any particular point during the day. It can’t be THAT hard to follow the rules, can it? Try it. See how it feels. If you don’t like it, keep doing it. And don’t stop. Then, once your license is revoked when you’re 75 and unable to hold your bladder or the steering wheel, you can look back and decide. Was it worth it? If your answer is yes then you are welcome. If your answer is no, then you are also welcome. Because you would have likely died years earlier in a fiery car crash at the school zone intersection of the left lane on the Tollway while trying to go 45mph but then suddenly realizing you need money to be driving, so you change lanes without using your blinker and crash into a wall. Idiotic moron.

Behind every statement is another boring story….

So, I started Tweeting about 8 months ago. And the great thing about that (for you) is my thoughts HAVE TO be condensed to 140 characters. That can be very, very, very hard for me. Because I like to talk. A lot. And embellish. A lot. But what it got me thinking about is the fact that so many people share their thoughts, multiple times each day, and yet, there’s got to be so much more to whatever story or part of their story they choose to share. So, I thought today, I could pull an old Tweet out and tell you what was really going on with the statement I shared. Let’s see if the whole story really is better than the shortened version:
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Tweet: just saw a cop give a homeless guy a ticket. like giving courtney love a tranquilizer. what does that really do?
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Translation:

So, I had left my 1st job and was heading to my 2nd job. Most of the time, I take the Tollway, which bothers me, because I’m paying extra to drive to work; but it doesn’t bother me enough to use the “free” ways. When I was exiting, traffic was a bit bad for a couple of reasons. First, because it was afternoon rush-hour time and second, because a cop had his lights flashing and was pulled up partly on the sidewalk. Not such a big deal, until I realized the cop was out of their car, talking to a homeless person. And by talking, I really mean he was writing down in his little ticket-pad thing. The poor homeless guy was just standing there staring (probably so drunk) trying to pay attention to the cop. And all I can think about is how ridiculous this situation is. First of all: how does the cop know that homeless guy’s name? There’s almost no way he had a license on him. Or registration, for that matter. So, this is how I imagine the conversation between the Homeless Guy and the Police Officer:

HG: yes, officer?
PO: can I see your license or permit to be on this street corner, sir?
HG: no, but my name is, um, Harry. Um, Harry…Harry…Harry Red…Um…Harry Toyota, I mean. And my address is this corner.
PO: what are you doing on this corner, Mr. Toyota?
HG: trying to get some food or money for food, officer [HG hiccups]
PO: well, Mr. Toyota, you can’t be on this corner without a permit [PO clears throat and rubs nose with index finger real fast].
HG: oh, ok.
PO: this is public property and you cannot ask people for money on this corner.
HG: ok.
PO: don’t pull an attitude with me, Mr. Toyota
HG: [blank stare – then watches cars proceed through intersection, trying to avoid police car]
PO: now, Mr. Toyota, you’ve left me no other choice but to issue you a citation for solicitation
HG: ok.
PO: [writing ticket] what’s your address, Mr. Toyota?
HG: you can just put where we’re standin
PO: [finishes up, tears ticket off and hands to HG] maybe this will help convince you that next time, you shouldn’t be on a street corner asking for money
HG: yup [pees himself just a little]

Now, I feel the need to clarify here. I like police officers. Really, I do. I appreciate what they do for all of us and I respect them. But all I could think about was how that poor homeless guy now has to find another street corner, (where this cop won’t find him) and beg people for money to help pay his ticket. Because he has a scheduled court date in 2 weeks. Plus, he’ll need money for an outfit when he appears in court. But if he misses the court date, then he’ll have to wait at that corner where he was initially issued the ticket for a certified letter stating he missed his court date and now a warrant has been issued for his arrest. This homeless guy just can’t catch a break.

And then I wonder, if I gave him money, could I get in trouble? I shouldn’t have to ask every place I spend money to provide me their business license or permit, right? It’s just too much.

So, as I drive off, I think about that U2 song lyric: “A woman needs a man, like a fish needs a bicycle,” and I realize Bono could have just as easily written: “A homeless man needs a ticket, like Courtney Love needs a tranquilizer…”. So, I wrote it down and posted it. And that, my friends, is how my mind works when I am confined to 140 characters.

Thank goodness for this new invention of blogging.