Solitary Confinement, Sorta...

For the next two weeks I will be without internet access.

No, I'm not going camping, not venturing out into the wilderness - perish the thought!  I'm pretty much safe from becoming "one with nature" until Kate Spade starts making canteens or pop-up tents - and then - well - I just may have to reevaluate! 

Harry is working in the Canaan Valley until the Thursday after next so I'm going with him!  Yay!

But I don't think they have Wi-fi.  Not so yay.

Don't worry - I'll be sure to post when I get back in early March! 

Everyone be good and have fun - but not too much - while I'm gone!  

Love ya! Holly...

Son of a "Breach"

"Do you want to see 'Music and Lyrics' or 'Breach'?" Harry asked me, trying to make plans for our dinner date with Mike and Meghan. 

"Duh!  Hugh Grant! 'Music and Lyrics'!" I happily replied.

"Can we go see 'Breach' instead? Please?"  Harry begged and, since I'm such a stellar example of wifely wonderfulness, I agreed.

I shouldn't have.

After two hours of dialogue and one stupid and unesessary gun scene, I was thisclose to standing up and attempting "suicide by folding seat." 

"Breach", in case you don't know, is a movie-length feature about treason.  From www.imdb.com :Based on the true story, FBI upstart Eric O'Neill enters into a power game with his boss, Robert Hanssen, an agent who was ultimately convicted of selling secrets to the Soviet Union.  So, one immediately thinks of guns, bugs, tracking devices, cool spy sequences, flashbacks and more than likely some intricately planned gun/chase scenes.  Nope.  The script was weak, the casting was bogus and the bump on Ryan Phillipe's head was more than a little distracting as it swelled and retracted with each forced supposed emotion (you'll have to see this movie to understand the "bump" thing - but it's there and it's - weird). 

Throught the movie, I giggled at inappropriate times, I guffawed at the bad writing and I sniggered every single time the lead character referred to Hanssen as "boss"  - a term of non-endearment that ended up sounding so false that he may as well have been calling him "hey, you!"

Finally, at the end of the 120 minutes of pure yawn-inspiring "entertainment" I had eaten my weight in popcorn and drank my bladder full of Cherry Coke when the last words were spoken.

I about wet myself as Hanssen spoke three little words that drove home the worthless and semi-transparent sub-theme of Catholicism and sealed the fate of "Breach" in my mind.

"That," I said as I burst out laughing, causing odd looks from my companions and non-smelly movie goers alike, "was HORRIBLE!  That was an A&E documentary stretched into a two hour film! I really, REALLY should have brought a pillow..."

"I didn't think it was so bad.  I actually liked it," Harry said, looking around to make sure that no one in the theater was going to attempt to beat me up for my rather loudmouth and opinionated comments. 

"No - you didn't.  It was bad.  BAAAAAD,"  I gleefully forced my views on to my friends.

"Okay, fine, maybe it wasn't a great movie - but - you have to admit it was better than 'Epic Movie'!" Harry prodded me as we filed out of the theater. 

"True... true... But that's not saying much!"

I am now wondering if my overenunciated and loudly exclaimed opinion hurt my chances of receiving any type of consumation of marital bliss seeing as how my husband is, at the moment, sitting in the driveway attempting to rip off the dash of his car - for fun - for all I can tell. 

Oh well - I can watch tv - anything to purge "Breach" from my mind.  Ooh - "Bridget Jones Diary" is on!  Nevermind - happy now!

Employed? Me?

Sorry for my belated post but I've been busy and  I finally caught a cold - somehow!  I haven't been sick in forever and then BAM! Sore throat and sinus pain were all mine!  Ugh...

On to better stuff - I finally sold a story!

Yup, I will be published in a Real Estate Horror Story Anthology and should be receiving payment in the mail in a few weeks!  I finally sold something! Whee!

Then I went to talk to Heather at "The VoiceboxX" and I'm going to start working there part-time, a couple of days a week and she's bumped me up to Editor. Whee! Again! 

So - that's my excuse on why I haven't posted more blogs. 

Well, that and I've been soooooo lazy lately! Whee! Again again!

 

Is it Hot in Here?

After much reluctance on my part, I decided that I kinda, sorta really did want to see "Ghost Rider" with Nick "I Shoulda Been Superman So I'll Name My Poor Kid 'Cal El'" Cage.

I hate going to see movies on opening weekends because three things always happen. 

1.  People who do not understand the "45 minute" rule.  One must arrive to a movie at least 45 mins early to assure that all popcorn has been purchased, all bladders have been emptied and prime viewing locations have been chosen.  At least 50 inconsiderate oafs strolled in during the previews and then do the Piggy Tango on your feet trying to get to the only four empty seats left in the entire theater. 

2.  The aforementioned Piggy Stompers then bring in their own beverages.  Now, don't get me wrong - I think it's perfectly acceptable to sneak in a fifty cent can of Pepsi just so you don't have to pay the $8 for a glass full of ice and teeny bit of soda that the film industry offers its patrons, but these little punks next to us pulled out a fifth of something and started dividing it up.  And then they talked all through the movie.  It's hard to care about a tragic superhero with a head-o-flames while drunkard teens are outwardly ogling Eva Mendes' jiggly parts.

3.  I beg of you to educate others on my last pet peeve.  If you, or a friend, are heading to see a relatively new movie, please anticipate the close quarters and PUT ON SOME FREAKIN' DEODERANT!!!  I was downwind from a rather stinky individual for the duration of this movie and at least three others I can think of.  I'm pretty sure he's been following me - staying just out of nose-reach until he can trap me in a theater.  I may have to demand Marquee Cinemas to start doing flask checks and pit checks before every new movie. 

But, yeah, I liked the movie and I think that anyone looking for a good movie without having to put too much thought behind  plot lines would thoroughly enjoy "Ghost Rider" - but ye have been warned...

People are stinky.  People are rude.  And when these stinky and rude people arrive in the crowded theater - they WILL chose the seat next to you.  It's our curse as nice people.  We're like "Ghost Rider" in that way.  You know - without the 1,000 BTU noggin...

                                           

Old Skool Budz!

This is my elementary school posse. Yup - we were a rough and tumbly bunch:

From left to right: Summer (my sister), Mariah, Anne (?), Summer T. and Me.  Can you see why my sis and I were thought to be friends instead of sisters in our youth (and even now?)? We look like ying and yang - with me being the dark half...    This picture was taken on Mariah's porch in Barboursville, WV.  We hung out every day.  I don't know where Tiffany is - maybe on the other side of the porch digging for worms or something! :) 

Okay, now I'm expecting a barrage of rather embarressing school-age pics of all the rest of you in J-land! 

Hop to it! Start scanning!

Weekend Assignment #152

I decided to participate, for the first time ever (or as far back as I can remember) in a Weekend Assignment.  

Caption This Photo!

"On the next 'CSI: Canine Unit', Mr. Tibbles interrogates Sprinkles the Cat about a series of Rat murders on the Lower East Side.  Watch it - only on CBS"

Stupid Cupid

I bet Valentine's Day is actually more of a joke than Hallmark CEO's let on.  I'm sure that today, of all days, is when blonde, cherubic, Cupid takes a twelve pack and goes down by the lake to get drunk and fish.  I'm sure his arrows are used to pierce trout rather than the hearts of star-crossed lovers. 

On the other hand, I had a very lovely night where I wore my brand new $3.97 sweater (red with a cowl neck!) and Harry took me to a really nice Italian restaurant in downtown Bridgeport.   We had some really good food after a mere 10 minute wait and watched as a young couple got engaged.  It was really sweet and I, feeling like a dweeb to no end, pointed and smiled like I was special.  I guess I was since I was sharing in an intimate moment of Dick and Debbie (that's what I'm calling them since they were and are still perfect strangers to me!) and witnessing the beginning of their new lives.  Or the end - depending on how you look at wedding planning...

Harry helps me get to the car by skiing down the hill shouting "Pizza! French Fries!" a la a Southpark episode where Kyle learned to ski emulating fast food.  We hopped in the car (I kinda slid in while screaming "Harry GRAB MY ASS!" - I needed him to support me in case I slipped and fell back out... or something...) and started to maneuver out of the tight spot when - I smelled something. 

"Harry!  Did you-?  YOU DID!"  He cackled like a true man - proud of his gas - while watching me struggle to find which button lowered the window.  Yes, I was willingly taking on hypothermia in order to escape the noxious odor. 

The window wouldn't roll down.

It was frozen. 

I laughed/cried as I pressed my face against the cold glass and writhed in agony. 

A woman exiting with her takeout stared at me.

So, yeah, if you see Cupid, stab him in the back for me...

Meh.

After fifteen minutes of "Billy Blank's Bootcamp" - I've decided he's the devil incarnate.  And if I hear him yell "count it! count it!" and then point to his stick figure counterpart, Jillian for encouragement, I will find Billy and strangle him with his friggin' Resistence Bands. 

 

"Take That" and Go Directly to Rehab...

Being a teenage girl growing up in the bowels of WV was not always easy.  We were not exposed to much culture so when boy bands like "New Kids on the Block" and "Bacstreet Boys" popped up on the scene one could easily fall into the hormonal traps that backwoodsy gals fall easily into.  However, Tiffany, my best gal pal, and I were not easily swayed. We preferred Beach Boys to Backstreet and Connie Francis dominated our after school listening hours. 

However, when Tiffany came to my house one day clutching a cd from a British boy band called "Take That" - we were goners. 

No sooner had I picked out Robbie Williams as my own personal lustmuffin did they break up. 

Robbie had a few hits in the US as a solo artist but did much better back in the UK - here is an example of a much more tame duet with Nicole Kidman that had me drooling onto my slightly dusty keyboard:

 

However, I have just learned that even though Mr. Williams did not have a breakaway American hit, he did manage to make it here for his Rehab! 

 

Gettin' Quizzy Wit' It!

After taking Dawn's quiz and realizing that my knowledge of my on-line buds was just that above a telemarketer, I decided to do my own! 

It was fun! Thanks Dawn!

Take My Quiz on QuizYourFriends.com Can you Ace my quiz? Yes! No Let's Find Out!

Update:  Okay - so the darn pics won't show, which, since the quiz isn't all that challenging, this will just make it a bit tougher! 

Update the Second:  I don't know why I put that I wanted to see Sweeney Todd instead of Equus.  I think, yes, I've failed my own "How well do you know me" quiz.

Don't take this quiz, you will mourn your lost brain cells for weeks to come...

:)

Step on a Crack...

"Hey - I'm almost done with 'Eragon' - who has the next book?  Brian, my sister's boyfriend asked.

"Yeah, but don't get mad at me like some people did when they found out that third book in the trilogy isn't out yet," I looked pointedly at my sister, who looked pointedly at the floor.

"Hey - is he still living in his parent's basement-" Brian started but was interrupted by Harry's booming voice from the kitchen.

"Hey - I haven't read it yet! Don't give it away!"  he complained, a hurt look on his scruffly face as he emerged from the doorway.

I stood and went to him as Summer and Brian dissolved into laughter.  

"Baby, um, really - it's a book about a dragon rider - do you really think that a kid chosen to ride dragon's would live in a musty basement?"  I snuggled his arm and tried not to laugh.  "Like, he'd climb the mothball ridden stairs, hop on his dragon in the driveway and zoom off over the 7-11..."  I flung my arm out in emphasis. 

Mom, Dad, Summer, Brian and I cackled at Harry's expense. 

"I hate you all," he said and we turned to go out the kitchen's backdoor.

As I'm still sniggering, I put one arm into my tweed coat when I notice that Harry is picking up a small black cell phone.

"What are you doing with Summer's phone?" I ask as he sticks out his tongue and snaps a picture.

"I'm getting even," he said.

"Well, then, lemmie take a better picture - we'll put it as her background and since she can't work it - well - it'll be that much funnier!" Giggling like fiends, Harry drops his pants in my parent's yellow-painted kitchen and I aim the phone at his crack.  Laughing hysterically, we wave at the people sitting in the tv room and trip over each other rushing out. 

At the end of the street, Harry stops the car and says "Call her!" so I dial and wait. 

"What did you do to my phone?" My sister screeches. 

"Nothing!"

"What did you do?" she asks again.

"Wait - didn't you notice anything when you opened it?" I asked her, looking at Harry in horror. 

"No, it's still a Care Bear..."

"Wasn't your phone the one that was in on the counter?"

"No, I had mine on me.  That one's mom's."

Oh, my GAWD!  My husband's ass is on my mom's phone!

"Oh CRAP! Go get mom's phone!" I hear Summer walking into the kitchen and then - loud and snorting laughter.  And then - nothing.  Summer has hung up on me.

I turn to Harry and say "Your ass, it's on Mom's phone.  We mooned the wrong phone."

Harry flips open his phone and quickly dials his mother in law. 

"Drema? Hey, it's your favorite son in law - yes.  So - did you see your phone?"  He pauses and then starts laughing so hard that tears are coming to his eyes.  "You've got to hear this!"  Putting it on speaker I can hear my mother wheezing and fighting for breath in between deep guttural laughs. 

"Hey Drema! Think of what'll happen when someone asks to use your phone! They'll have to talk to my ass!"  We hear a whoop and then a beep as she hangs up on us, too.  

I have an interesting life...

Snow What?

I dared Harry to climb onto the side of this pile of snow in the Charleston, WV parking lot of Marshall's.  He, as usual, felt the need to climb to the top:

He then ran down the side, like a non-rolling Sonic the Hedgehog and ripped off his non-snow proof tennis shoes:

 Nice socks, baby!

After his snow mountain expedition, Harry decided he deserved a present, so we meandered into Dick's Sporting Goods where he snagged his 55th pair of Jordan shoes which they, surprisingly, had a pair of "might as well wear the box" size 13's.

He really, really, really likes Air Jordans:

 Oh, baby, give it some tongue!

He then takes the new recruit home and watches as it integrates with the rest of the "23" clan, each wearing their own special colors...

After we were sure that the new Jordan shoes would mesh well with its very similar counterparts, we went to a belated Birthday dinner with Harry's pocket-sized granny:

That was Friday and Saturday and I should've known the merriment and mirth would end abruptly.  This morning I went out to startmy neglected Envoy and - it wouldn't start.  Wouldn't chug. Wouldn't light up.  And - to make matters worse - the ignition key would not come out. Harry, my knight in shining Armor-all went to fetch his "Mechanic's Set" of Tools - Craftsman, of course - and removed my battery.  Driving the .1 miles to the local hardware store we are told that not only did my battery die -but that it then froze.  Leave it to me to kill and freeze a battery in a 2007 model car!

Argh!

:)

Hotel Living is the Life For Me!

After being in a hotel for over two days now - I've come to the realization that it totally rocks!  Harry is gone working for the man all day while I sit in a bed I don't have to make and trek to a bathroom that is two feet away and, paradises of all paradises, the vending machine down the hall carries ice cold Fanta Grape Soda.  Sigh!  It's HEAVEN! 

AND - the fact that Gino's pizza is next door in the Go Mart just makes it that much better!

Plus, I'm here with Harry so - we get to catch up on some, AHEM, stuff that has been neglected.

Take for instance, the night of passion we shared on his birthday.  We arrived late at the hotel and, as I was struggling to take off my less-than-sexy Nike socks, Harry swooped in and kissed me with a frenzied passion.  Swooping me into his arms, he attempted the uber-romantic "fall to the bed" scene.

Unfortunately for him, I'd just placed a small bag of Cheetos in his path.

CRUNCH!

Yup - that about sums up my life - Explosive and - Cheesey!

Happy Friday, ya'all - go out and launch a snowball at an unsuspecting friend. 

I think the Gopher lied...

When I ran from my car, coatless, and into the Gyno office, I didn't think much about the teeny snowflakes that were coating my glasses.  Nope, I just ducked my frizzy head and ran for the door, trying not to slide outta my brown clogs (yes - I was wearing clogs - no - I know that they are not very pretty - but I was going to have to wear a pink paper gown for the next three or so hours so I wasn't really trying to make the cover of "World's Most Glamorous Cervixes!")

I stepped outside after being medically violated and stood, stunned.  

The world I had left had been replaced by a low-income snowglobe. The tiny track homes were all covered in a thick powdery snow and more was falling from the heavens.  A woman was brushing the sidewalk next to my Envoy with a large broom- she accosted me for not wearing a coat and then started brushing off my car. Good thing, too, since I do not own a snow scraper!

I drove home and snapped these pics of my front yard, back yard, and back driveway!

Here's WV:

Hi Neighbors!

Hmm - wonder if I could still make it to Bridgeport, WV to get to see Harry on his bday?   Thanks for all the well wishes, by the way, ya'all crack me UP!

:)

Day Two

Day Two of Freedom has been a bit slow.  I've only cleaned up in the kitchen, found my coutertops and ran a load of dishes.

I'm hesitant to do much more before my 2:45 doc's appointment to have my lady parts checked!  This yearly exam thing is really too much - I mean - if we can do AIDS home tests why can't we be given a q-tip and a "beautiful" paper gown to wear at home and just mail it in?  Really - why can't the gyno have a drive thru?  Cindy and I have been discussing this for the past few days and we've decided that the doc is really just a middle man (or woman) who's there just to laugh at us in drafty gowns.  Hmph.

I got my car back yesterday - this was the second time that it's been put in for 4 wheel drive malfunctions!

Harry took it in a few weeks ago and was given this to drive:

I took it in yesterday and was given this:

hahahahaha!

"Hey, babe! I'm driving a Titan!" I squealed into my pink cell phone as I drove down Route 60.

"It's a Tie-ton - not a Tit- on," he explained.

"It's a truck! I'm driving a truck!"

"How come they give you a big truck to drive and they gave me a freakin' Malibu?" he whined.

"I don't know - but I like it!"

Hee hee - Harry turns 27 tomorrow! Be sure to leave a comment wishing him well since he reads my blog every day (mainly looking for stuff that he said "you better not blog about this!"). 

 

 

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

A little while back, Stacey, Tiffany and I gathered to lop off a large hunk of Stacey's mane to donate.

This is where we started:

Nice turban, Stace!

Tiffany, the executioner, begins the procedure:

We measure off a foot of gorgeous dark brown locks:

Scalpel!

Finally, Stacey sports her new, shorter, 'do!

Stacey then took her ponytail and dropped it into a mailer to make wigs for cancer patients!  We then spent the rest of the evening drinking white sangrias, eating artichoke dip and just having a ball. :)

On an un-related note - I submit the following picture for your observation:

My perfumes are lined up on the right side, while Harry's colognes are stacked up on theleft.   Hmmm - who hath more? Thy husband or thy wife?  hee hee

Sorry - couldn't resist!

FIRST DAY OF FREEDOM! And I spent it cleaning the bathroom...

Super Bored XLI

It's getting to be that time of year again.

That special time when sports-a-phobic women like me head for the hills and hide in the kitchen or bedrooms while overly testosteroney males sit in front of 50+ inch televisions and yell for their team of spandex-clad men grunting and grabbing for a slippery ball.  

Since I am neither a fan of football or hollering males, I shall take this time to do something productive like mastering the art of the jell-o mold or changing the sheets on our bed, or, dare I say it? Lying in bed watching chick flicks and eating bon bons.

Sigh.

The menfolk have it right - Super Bowl Day ROCKS!

Now pass the chocolate truffles, Soft Batch Cookies and flannel pajama bottoms.

 

Borderline Psychic-otic

"Harry, I can't sleep."

"Okay."

"Wanna play a game?" 

"Okay."

"I'm thinking of a number between one and ten."

"Seven."

"Right! And now what number?"

"Three."

"You're so good."

"I know."

"Your turn - think of a number between one and ten."

"Okay."

"Is it four?"

"Yes."

"We're so connected!  Hey - if you had a boat, what would you name it?"

"I dunno... 'Shivel Me Timbers'.  Now go to sleep."

"HA ha ha! You're so clever! That's why I married you!  Ha ha hee hee." 

He may kill me in my sleep before we hit our fourth anniversary this year.  But he'd have to catch me asleep first!

 

Last Day!

In case you've yet to hear - IT'S MY LAST DAY-O-WORK!

I'm really going to miss some of the people I work with but hope to keep in touch with them.

Trying to blog this while, quite literally, having a small gal stuck to my back has not been easy.  I've had to spend the past two days training a gal with a thick Wayne County accent and although she's as sweet as pie, her life is one bald midget away from a rather phenomenal Jerry Springer episode.

I have figured out one thing.  Of all the things here I'll miss - I'll miss my computer the most!