Just Call Me Princess Space Cadet

I've never really been known for my common sense. I'm extremely book smart, but not so much with the common smarts. BFF and I were in drill team in high school, and at the end of camp our director passed out these made up awards like best smile, best high kick, biggest whore. Okay, I made that last one up. So what was my award you ask? Space Cadet... as in my head is always in the clouds. Nice. But I must admit, I earned that award.


Example numero uno - our junior year we were getting ready for our upcoming homecoming. I always made sure to arrange transportation before hand so I wasn't stranded at the game. So in casual conversation at lunch, surrounded by my closest friends, I asked what seemed to be a perfectly logical question. "Where is the homecoming game going to be?" Blank stares. "I need to figure out if I'm going to drive or not, is it here or away?" Blank stares followed by hysterical laughter. BFF stops laughing long enough to say "I'm pretty sure the HOMECOMING game is going to be at HOME this year." I was so embarrassed and have yet to live that down, 11 years later. At the pep rally one of the guys got on the microphone and said "Sassy Pants, I just wanted to remind you that our game is at HOME tonight." Awesome.

Example #2 - My senior year of high school my dad checked my oil and told me I needed to put a couple of quarts in my car because it was low. No problem. I go down to Auto Zone, buy my little quarts of oil, and head back to my house. I pop open the hood, and pull the dipstick out, just as I had seen my dad do earlier that day. Then I see a slight problem. The hole I just pulled the dipstick out of isn't very big at all. How the hell am I supposed to get this oil in there? There must be some kind of special funnel. After searching for this tiny funnel I go to my mom for help. Here's the best part. My mom helped me fashion a tiny funnel to get the oil into the dipstick hole. We later found out when my dad got home and heard about our troubles, that the much larger hole, with a cap on it that says OIL is actually where the oil is supposed to go.

Example #3 - This is my most recent space cadet moment. BFF's daughter had her sixth birthday party this weekend. We get to their house and I set our gift on the table. I picked out a really cute pink and green flowery bag from target. As I'm setting the gift down, I notice someone else has the same bag. I looked at her and said, "looks like we both went to target, hope we didn't get the same thing!" Fast forward a couple of hours to gift opening time. The children are sitting on the floor anxiously awaiting the opening of each gift. Then she gets to the pink and green flowery bag and starts opening. Plaid shorts..."crap" I whispered...white t-shirt..."you have got to be kidding me"....hannah montana shirt...."COME ON, I can't believe we got the exact same gift!" BFF finally looks at me and says in a very calm voice, "this is your gift." And so the legacy continues.

Who missed me?

I know I've been neglecting the blog lately, but in my defense I was on vacation for a week. We took our annual ski trip to Colorado with the inlaws. This is the 8th year I've gone with the family. I still can't ski worth a shit, and every year I say the same thing. "I hate skiing, I hate the cold, and I'm not coming back next year!" Apparently I have a very bad memory because I do end up going back. Every.single.year. And every single year the wonderful ski patrol has to dispatch a search and rescue crew because someone in the family thought it would be hilarious to trick me into going down a black diamond. Ha ha asswipes, ha ha. In case you aren't familiar with ski terms, the trails on the mountain are color coded. Green = easiest/beginner, Blue = intermediate, Black = bend over and kiss your ass goodbye.

Here are some pics from the trip...

Just another excuse for me to not take the trash out.

Our last night in Copper Mountain...please excuse that awful excuse for facial hair.

He was laying on a bench after skiing....my sentiments exactly BB.

Best part of the trip right here. It was called the chocolate sleigh ride. Me, BB, and my sister in law rode out to a tent in the woods and made smores and drank hot chocolate. That's my kind of vacation.


It wasn't yellow, I checked.



He was almost to the front door when we found him. Going to ski in his jammies I suppose.

Skiing solo for the first time.

If you have never been skiing, I don't recommend it. I mean, it looks super fun, and it is as long as you are a freaking expert. It's not so much fun when you slam face first into the mountain with such force that your ski smacks you in the back of the head. Oh, and did I mention that you can't breathe? We live below sea level, and Copper Mountain is 14,000 feet ABOVE sea level. What does that mean? It means I was gasping for air after putting my socks on. Good times.

Sign #17 that you may need to re-assess your parenting skillz

Last Saturday BD and I were upstairs getting ready to go to the rodeo. BB was downstairs eating his cereal. This is a pretty normal occurance in our house, and he can usually be trusted to be downstairs by himself. Usually.

Just as we were finishing getting dressed, BB appears at the top of the stairs wearing nothing but his pajama top. "Where are your pants?" I asked him. "I took them off! I'm ready to get dressed!" he shrieked. So I herded him into his bedroom to get dressed when I noticed something on his butt. It was brown. Do you know where I'm going from here?

"Did you poop in your pull-up BB?"

"No I did NOT poop in my pull-up mom!"

"Then why do you have poop on your butt?"

"Because I went poopie outside."

"You wha? Outside? Like a dog?!"

He smiled proudly at me and nodded his head. So I cleaned him up and marched downstairs and out the back door and sure as shit (pun intended) there it was. A little pile of boy turds two inches from my patio. I guess he squatted on the patio to give himself leverage. Who even thinks of pooping outside? Where does he come up with this stuff?

What the Frick, Work?!

Yesterday my boss called me into her office. I had been waiting for this meeting for months. It's the meeting where she tells me how much my raise is. I know this because it happens the same way, every.single.year.

The conversation begins. "You've done a great job this year...blah blah blah..good employee...blah...here is your salary increase" as she slides the yellow post-it across the desk like a ransom note. Smiling from ear, knowing it will be 6% because that's exactly what BFF got just two months previous, I turn the post-it over and almost have a fucking heart attack. No, this can't be right. 2.4%? Are you sure? Looking at her, looking back at the post-it, looking at her again to see if it's a joke. Maybe you misheard her over the phone? No? Have I done something wrong? What do you mean, cutbacks? They cut raises in half? THIS company cut raises in HALF?! The company* that made $14 BILLION in profit last year cut fucking raises in half?!?! I think I just had a stroke. What is this world coming to when our company has to make cutbacks??

I gave her a half-hearted smile and thought about everything for a second. When my blood pressure had made it down to a survivable level, I said to her with wholehearted honesty, "you know what, I'm just glad I still have job. This raise, no matter how small, is really just an added bonus." And it's true. There are so many people without work right now, so I'm going to count my blessings every day when I wake up because at least I have a job to go to.

However, if I get laid off, laid off from this company, I'll probably end up on the 10 o'clock news. Just sayin'.


*I'm not telling you who I work for but it wouldn't be hard to find out.