Random stuff because I'm awake at 5:30am

So today is the first day of Summer Vacation, which means I don't have to get up at 6:00am for the next few months.

Which is why I've been wide awake since Dark:00am.  Because the goddamn yapdog next door has been yapping it's high pitch, shrill yap since 4:30am and Ima go and punt that thing if it doesn't shut the fuck up.  Why yes, it IS a Chihuahua, how did you know?

So I'm laying there, listening to this non-stop yapping, asking myself, "WHY ME, LORD?" and TheManTheMyth and Thing 1 leave for work after making as much noise as possible and turning on as many lights as possible and I'm all, "I can go back to sleep now" but no, Petunia (of COURSE that's the name of the dog.  Which is a male.  Go figure) continues to yap and yap and yap and yap and this whole time, Gracie Lou is comatose on her back in the middle of the bed, completely oblivious to the yapping dog next door and I finally threw in the towel and got out of bed.

For the last few weeks, I've been waking up at Buttcrack O' Dawn, even when I don't need to and who is getting more than a little pissed about it?  This gal.  I don't know if it's a menopause thing, a "too much on my mind" thing or a goddamn fucking dog that won't shut the fuck up thing.

Or a combination of all 3.  All I know is that there have been a few times I've been up before TMTM and he's all, "What are YOU doing up?  Oh.  Well, since you're up, clean the house, wash your car."

Um, no.

Instead, I'm checking my e-mails, messageboards, Facebook, Damn You Auto Correct, which is guaranteed to make whatever you're drinking come shooting out of your nose because it's THAT FUNNY and to continue to shop for a lightly-used vehicle.  Because despite my massive slip of the tongue moment the night before, I made it quite clear to TMTM that we are not keeping my car and that if he wants to pay money for a gas guzzler, there are much cheaper SUVs out there because dealers are practically paying YOU to buy those these days.

And late last night, I went back to the dealer website of the car I've been looking at and saw that they just dropped the price another $1500.00 and why yes, I went and woke up TMTM to tell him that.  So I'll be calling the dealer this morning to go and have a look-see.  Wish me luck there.

Okay, who is absolutely glued to their seat over the Stanley Cup Finals?  This has been the most exciting Stanley Cup and I love that it's come down to Game 7 except that throughout the series, the home team has won each game and tonight's game is in Vancouver and well, I'm kind of cheering for Boston.  But Thing 2 is pulling for the Canucks so watching the games has been full of quaint expressions such as "SUCK ON THAT!" and "LOSER!" and "#WINNING!!" and things might get rather ugly tonight.  And of course, no matter who ends up hoisting the Cup, I'll get all teary-eyed and need a tissue, which is pronounced, "tis-syew" for dramatic purposes.


Well, Petunia has stopped his infernal yapping but now there's a murder of crows outside, screeching and cawing and circling and screeching and cawing and it's times like these I wish I had a sling shot.

It's drizzling outside right now.  And why did I have to include the word "outside" in that statement?  It's not like it's drizzling INSIDE.


I'm going back to bed.

 

My Big Fat Gypsy Mouth

Please tell me you've seen that show on TLC, "My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding."  If you haven't, you are missing something pretty...um, well...mind-boggling.  And I am hooked like a fish.

Normally, I don't watch shows on the channel that inflicted the Gosselins, the Duggars and that moron attention whore from Alaska on the American People but when I saw a blurb for BFGW, I  knew that this would definitely be Must See TV.

And it's been All That AND a Caravan of Chips.

The first time I had heard of Gypsy/Traveller Weddings was when someone sent me an article about a 16 year Traveller girl's wedding and it was so over the top, I was trainwreck fascinated.  And knew I must learn more.

If you haven't seen the show, well, you are missing out is what I'm saying.  It's like Jersey Shore without the drinking, the sex, the profanity and, well, the cast of Jersey Shore.

Instead, we get to see 16 year old girls getting married in these absolutely flabbergasting dresses

There was even a bride who had a light up dress!  You can't make this shit up!

Must haves for a Gypsy teen bride include gallons of spray tan, false eyelashes, gobs of makeup and lots and lots of skin showing:

Klassy.

I love this show.

In other news, I've mentioned a time or two that the lease on my gas-guzzling 2008 Saturn Vue (15 mpg city, people) is coming to an end this Sunday and who is more excited to see the last of that car?  This gal.

However, it has been a bone of contention between TheManTheMyth and myself to the point my eye has been twitching like crazy, something that only happens when I am REALLY stressed and livid.

After sending me out to test drive various new cars over the last month or two, TheManTheMyth then informed me that no, I would not be getting a new car, that I didn't NEED a new car and that we (he) would not be spending any money on a new car when a cheap old used car would be perfectly adequate.

Cheap.  Old.  Used.  Car.

Exsqueeze me?

Baking powder?

Let's just say I had to leave not only the room but the house when he made that pronouncement because I needed to go and punch a tree instead of punching my husband, that's how pissed I was.

What *I* have in mind:

What *HE* has in mind:

So I'm fuming and seething and I vent to my sisters, who both agreed that I had every right to be upset.

 

But a couple of days later, I calmed down and went back into research mode and found a couple of lightly used sedans that I deemed suitable.  And I printed up the information and left it sitting on my desk while I ran errands.

TheManTheMyth just *happened* to see the info sitting there on my desk and he was much more inclined towards these cars than buying a brand new car and told me to look into it, that he was good with my choices.

And I'm all, "Whew!" because I had visions of him coming home with a Brand New 1976 Tomato Red Saab and saying, "Look honey!  Your new car!" 

Which actually happened.  My dad came home one day, in 1976, with the ugliest car in the ugliest Tomato Red color we had ever seen  and presented it with a flourish while we were all, "What the hell is THAT?"

Anyway.

We're talking about the price of these cars I had picked out and whether or not we could get an even better price because one of the cars is at a dealership where I could turn in my leased Saturn and we're talking and I'm thinking, "Yay, I'm actually going to get a car I won't cringe at every time I have to get behind the wheel" when I had to open my Big Fat Gypsy Mouth and everything came to a screeching halt.

Me and my Big Fat Gypsy Mouth just HAD to mention the buy-out price of my Saturn, which is $3,000 less than the cars I put forth for his consideration.  And even as the words were coming out of my Big Fat Gypsy Mouth, the voice in my head was screaming, "Shut up.  Shut. Up. SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!"

Did I listen to that voice telling me to shut the fuck up?

That would be "No."

And TMTM says, "If it's only that much, then we'll just keep your car" and I'm all, "No no no nononononononononono.  NO!!" at the same time I'm asking myself, "When will you learn to keep your Big Fat Gypsy Mouth shut, ya dipshit!"

And I sputtered and said stoutly, "We are NOT KEEPING MY CAR!  It gets TERRIBLE gas mileage!  I go through a tank of gas a week!" and TMTM says, "Well, you don't drive anywhere and it's probably a small tank" and I show him proof that a) I do drive enough to go through a tank of gas a week and 2) it's got a 19 gallon tank and he says, "Well, just don't drive so much" and that, Your Honor, is why he needed killing.

Miss Otis Regrets

Over at the Pie, today's topic is regrets, based on this article about the Top 5 things people wish while on their deathbeds.  And no, wishing they weren't on their deathbeds is not one of them.

So June asked us, her Faithful Followers, what would be our biggest regret or wish we had while on our deathbeds.


I've done some really stupid things in my life, made some really stupid choices in my life but ya know what?  There's not too much I regret doing.


Okay, I DO regret bleaching my hair and cutting it to look like Rod Steward during his "Blondes Have More Fun" phase because really, I'm SO not a blonde and it really was an awful look for me but just like all the other questionable choices I've made, it was a learning experience.  


I've done things that even as I was making the decision to do them, I knew it was going to be a train wreck of epic proportions that could only end badly yet I plunged recklessly ahead and yeah, it was as big a train wreck as I had feared.

But do I regret doing those things?  Nope.  Again, I learned from my mistakes (Cowboy boots with shorts?  Really?) and moved forward, a little older, a little wiser (I hope).


While I don't regret the things I've done, there's a few things I regret NOT doing:


I regret not learning to play the piano.  I begged my parents for piano lessons when I was a kid.  BEGGED.  And was denied.  I always wanted to be able to sit down at a piano and play beautiful music. I'd go to people's homes who had pianos and I would sit at the keyboard and literally ache to be able to play.  Yes, I know I could take lessons now but I don't think my arthritic fingers would cooperate.


I regret not taking education more serious and going to college.  I honestly can't recall either of my parents ever discussing the importance of a college education with my sisters and me.  In fact, the only thing my dad ever really said about college was that it was a big waste to spend that kind of money for girls who would only get married and become housewives.  I honestly can't remember anyone, parents, high school counselor, etc, ever talking to me about my future.  To this day, I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up.

I regret not being more assertive.


I regret always feeling not quite pretty enough, smart enough, good enough.

Pity, Party of One Your Table is Ready

Disclaimer:  I'm about to whine and throw myself one big-ass pity party so feel free to move along.  Fair warning.

So Saturday was my birthday.  It was not observed in any particular way although Thing 1 did give me a lovely bouquet of flowers and Thing 1's GF gave me a gift card to California Pizza Kitchen (Hello Thai Crunch salad!).

Oh, and the traditional phone call from each of my sisters doing their best Marilyn Monroe breathy rendition of "Happy Birthday."  These singing phone calls are mandatory and are eagerly awaited.


TheManTheMyth, who had been out of town racing, gets home yesterday afternoon and completely ignores the bouquet on the table.  Takes no notice of it, makes no comment whatsoever.

This morning (Monday), TheManTheMyth's bidness partner comes over and the first thing he says is, "What pretty flowers!  Is it your birthday?  Happy Birthday!"

TheManTheMyth says nothing.

The two of them go into my office to look at some blueprints and I hear Bidness Partner ask TMTMif he did anything special for my birthday.  Dinner? Card?  Flowers?


TheManTheMyth's reply?


"I didn't know it was her birthday."


And that was the sole acknowledgement of my birthday from TheDeadManWalkingTheMyth.

Why do you think they call it "Dope?"

Okay, so I've had this cough for several days now.  I'll go for hours without coughing and then BAM!  That incredibly annoying tickle in the back of my throat starts up and all hell breaks loose.

When I went to bed last night, I was feeling much better and decided to forgo my nightly cough syrup.

And woke up at 2:00am coughing my fool head off.  I coughed and coughed and coughed and I knew this was going to be bad so I got out of bed and headed to the medicine cabinet.

While I was waiting for the OTC cough syrup to take effect, I sat at my computer and played Solitaire while cough cough coughing.

30 minutes later, I'm still coughing and losing at Solitaire and TheManTheMyth comes into the office holding the bottle of the "Good" cough syrup, the stuff with codeine in it and says, "I think you need to take this."

I'm not a "pill person."  If I'm in pain, have cramps or what have you, I take ibuprofen.  Anything that requires a doctor's prescription and advises you against operating any kind of heavy machinery while under the influence of said prescription is the kind of stuff I like to avoid.

In other words, I don't medicate.  When I messed up my foot in an ATV accident a couple of years ago, 

I turned down the doctor's offer of "Good" pain meds.  Which seemed to upset quite a few people who told me that if *I* didn't want those pills, they knew plenty of other people who did and I could have got some extra spending money.

Anyway.

So I'm coughing and hacking and gasping and coughing and trying to tell TMTM that I don't want to take that stuff and he shoves the bottle at me and barks, "DRINK!"

So I do.

The Good News is it worked.  I slept the rest of the night without nary a cough.


The Bad News is, I feel like the Living Dead.  Right now, it's 12:30pm PST and I am OUT OF IT.  Everything sounds like I'm hearing it from under water, my head feels like it weighs 20 lbs and wants to tip over.  There's a weird buzzing noise and I'm all jittery and jangly and this is why I don't take this stuff.


But at least my cough has stopped.

There goes an eye!

Have you ever coughed so hard you almost throw up plus every time you cough your head throbs and your eyes kind of bulge out of their sockets?

I hate it when that happens.  And it's been happening all frickin' day today.  Which was a real treat for the car salesman to witness, let me tell you.

No, I do not have a new car to tell you all about.  Instead you get to read about my hacking up a lung and possibly maybe even an ovary.

As you read previously, I've been a bit under the weather.  Well, my head cold/sinus infection has left the building but left a dry hacking cough with the non-stop tickle in the throat behind to keep me company.  Bastard.

And thanks to this lovely cough, my voice now sounds like a combination of Brenda Vaccaro and Froggy from the Our Gang series.  Which gives you an indication of my age if you know who those people are.

If you don't know who those people are and want to know how my voice sounds, um, let's see.  Oh!  I sound like someone who has been smoking unfiltered Camels since I was 10 along with a pint of bourbon as a chaser.

Oh, I'm a real catch right now.  Why there's not a line of men pounding on my door right now is one of the great Unanswered Miracles.

So.  This weekend is Memorial Weekend and if you're looking to buy a new car, this is the weekend to do it because everyone is offering sale prices and incentives and specials and low, low interest rates and hell, they're practically GIVING these here cars away.

Unless you want a Volkswagon with a diesel engine.  Then you're pretty much paying full price with not-so-low interest rates.  They ain't a-dealin' on those cars AT ALL.  Which I discovered after test driving the 2011 Volkswagon Jetta Sportwagon TDI and "crunching some numbers" with the VDub salesguy.

The VW Jetta Sportwagon TDI wasn't my 1st choice for a new car but TheManTheMyth liked it, the mileage is phenomenal, it would tow a small motorcycle trailer (very important in this family) and it was a nice little car although a bit on the boring sensible and practical side.

But I was willing to overlook the boring in exchange for awesome mileage and towing capabilities.  But not enough to have a monthly payment that would rival my mortgage payment because of a non-5-figure downpayment and lousy interest rates despite my fabulous credit score and yes, I DO have a great credit score (suckers).

So, with TheManTheMyth's blessing (he's out of town), I'm going to hit up a couple of other dealerships tomorrow (including the car I actually want) and see how badly they want (or don't want) my business.

Let's hope that a) I am able to make a great deal on the car I want and 2) my eyes don't pop completely out of my head during a coughing fit.

Wish me luck!

Snotty Turdy Head

I've been a little lax in the posting department lately but I have a good excuse:  A raging sinus infection.

I woke up Saturday morning feeling sort of okay but not really okay and then by early afternoon, my sinuses were pounding and throbbing (sounds just a bit pornographic), my nose was stuffed up yet running and I don't know how a stuff up nose can also be running at the same time and it really seems unfair that it happens like that, my throat was dry and scratchy and I was all, "just shoot me please."

TheManTheMyth and Thing 1 were in Utah and Thing 2 was at the movies with Thing 1's girlfriend so I figured I would just lay down and take a nap when there was a knock at the door.  And lo and behold, my uncle, who I had not seen in at least 10 years, was standing there.

We had a perfectly lovely visit and by the time he left several hours later, my throat was on fire from all the talking and my sinus headache had worsened so I loaded up on cold meds and went to bed.

And speaking of cold meds, the one I had taken said to take every 4 hours and lemme tell you, they weren't kidding.  At 4 hours and 1 minute after taking them, they wore off with a vengeance and I had to drag my sorry ass out of bed and dose myself again.  So how is this the "nighttime cold medicine" I ask you.



Just when I think I'm on the mend, a new symptom shows up.  The latest is that annoying tickling drip in the back of the throat that causes you to start coughing and hacking.  And it almost always kicks in at about 1:37am.


So here it is Wednesday.


I'm still sick.


Bleh.