Innocent Toys Gone Bad

BB's birthday was in August. He is in love with Spiderman, and was thrilled to open up this little number. It's motorized, and the bubblewand/hand dips down into a reservoir filled with bubble solution and raises back up to his mouth where the bubbles are blown. Hehe, blown. Anyhoo, picture this whole scenario in your head. I'll give you a minute. Do you get it now? That's right, Spiderman is giving the bird, over and over and over. Thanks grandma.

A couple of months ago my sister and I were in the toy department of wal-mart looking for a birthday gift for my neice. I walked past this car and just happened to glance down at the name. I stopped dead in my tracks and immediately whipped out the ol' cell phone. My sister asked what I was doing and, stifling childish laughter, I told her to look at the name on the box. She rolled her eyes and said "28. You are 28 years old." Whatever, it's still funny, because where I come from, chub means something entirely different. I can just hear BD now asking if baby wants to visit chub city tonight.

Corporate America

BFF and I work for one of the largest, most powerful companies in the world. Decent pay, awesome benefits, our own offices....not to shabby. That is until you realize that this place is sucking every ounce of happiness out of your soul. People walk around here like drones. It's sad really. It's like groundhog day, every.single.day. Walk through the rotating doors, scan your badge 18 times to get to your tiny office, type on the computer and check the clock every five minutes until that one hour of sweet respite...lunch! Return through the rotating doors and type away until quitting time. Make useless small talk with people you wouldn't socialize with outside of work even if you were paid large quantities of money.

Yesterday we had to go to a meeting called Living a Charmed Life. "What does living a charmed life mean to you?" asked the speaker. "Not having to go to stupid meetings like this just for the free mexican food" I muttered to BFF. "Would you like to have a charmed life like Katie Holmes" asked the speaker. BFF looked at me and whispered "negative ghostrider, I like my non-scientology beliefs just fine, thanks." I'm actually surprised BFF and I haven't been fired yet from this great establishment. We managed to get through the meeting without putting ourselves on anyones radar and/or being volunteered for another stupid committee. Seriously, they lure you into meetings with free food and the next thing you know you are heading up the scrapbook committee or teaching african refugees how to read in your free time.

On top of all this, almost everyone we work with has a PhD, so having a normal conversation with any of them is completely out of the question. I made the mistake of telling one of them I was taking Microbiology last semester. The next day there were no less than 7 textbooks on my desk relating to the 'wonderful world of Microbiology'. At least that is what the post it said that was on top of them.

Three semesters until graduation. Oh, and guys, by the way....

Blog Fodder Just Keeps Flying at Me

Yes, this is another driving story. I can't help it that this shit happens to me every day, okay? It's just one of the lovely perks that comes with living in Houston. And for once, my story happened once I got out of the ghetto! Let's have some wine and celebrate.

So I'm driving home yesterday and I'm almost to the 'burbs where I live, when traffic starts slowing down *shock* as I near my exit. As I creep slowly toward the exit ramp I can tell that there is a little truck half on the shoulder of the road, half still in my lane. Fucktards.

As I go to pass these dumbasses I notice they are fighting with eachother. Like full contact fighting. There were two guys in this tiny single cab truck beating the shit out of eachother. I'm pretty sure they were gay because they were more like sissy slaps than they were full on punches. And the driver guy was really pissed and was waving his hands around in that "heeeyyy girl" type fashion, but it was a very angry "heey girl". And then he popped the passenger right on the mouth with the back of his hand. And the passenger started bleeding and flipped down the mirror so he could wipe his chin off. (Probably not the first time he's had to do that.)

I really felt sorry for the passenger because he is obviously the taker in the relationship and he just got bitch slapped by the giver, who frankly, looked more like a dingy trucker than a queen. But who am I to judge.

Then the truck started backing into traffic because I guess the dingy trucker queen was in such a tiff that he let his foot slip off the break. Then the taker must have said something really smartass because the giver popped him again and they just took off into the sunset. I really enjoy a good love story, don't you?

Ghetto Chronicles Part II

If you read my first ever blog about Houston drivers you will see where this post is going. I left work yesterday after 10 grueling hours of working and generally being someones bitch. (And/or fucking off on the internet, but that's neither here nor there.) I make a left turn out of the parking lot and onto the road, hoping that I can go faster than 30mph somewhere between here and home.

So I'm minding my own business, pulling up to a red light when this biznatch in a gold corolla (with shiny rims, klassy) cuts me off and comes within mere inches of my front bumper. Being in a shitty mood in the first place, of course I honk at her...and may have flailed my arms a bit. You know, the arm flailing. It's the body language way of saying "what the fuck was that you gangsta-leaning-hooptie-driving-no-insurance-having asshole?!"

So I may have honked my horn a few seconds longer than was necessary. I may have flailed my arms a little more than I needed to get my point across. Whatever it was, she was not happy with me. She got in the lane to the left of me and just stopped. She stopped because she knew I would have to pull past her at one point. She rolled down her windows and turned off the music. "Shit, she turned of her music. She is so going to kick my ass."

I was thinking to myself that this it. This is where I've pissed off one too many people in traffic. I'm about to become the breaking news story on channel 2. "White female found shot to death in her SUV. Apparent arm flailing/road rage homicide. Full story at 10 o'clock."

I flipped open my phone so if I needed to dial 911, that would be one less step I would have to take. She looked like she was going to get out of the car for a second. I was fully prepared to exit the car brandishing my favorite pair of brown stilettos. Don't laugh, they're pretty sharp on the heel. I may be a wuss, but I could do some damage with a shoe. That is until she caps my ass, then I'll be left pretty much defenseless.

Thanks be to God the light turned green at that moment and my life was spared. I cut down the nearest side street to get the hell away from her. I got away unscathed, but learned a valuable lesson. Apparently you should just flip people off because the arm flailing gets you into way more trouble.

A Day in the Life

I know I'm always bitching about how busy I am and some of y'all are probably like "whatever, we know you plop your fat ass on the couch at night and eat ben and jerry's straight out the carton". Really, that would have been true a few months ago, but now, not so much. This is what I did yesterday....

6:00 - curse alarm clock, shower, get ready for work
6:30 - wake up BB, bribe him into going potty, and get him ready for school

BB - I don't wanna go to school!
Me - You have to go to school and mommy has to go to work, that's just how it is.
BB - WHY????
Me - So you can learn stuff
BB - I'm learned enough
Me - Clearly

6:45 - drop BB off at school and head to work
7:10 - get to work and sprint to my office, hoping no one will notice I'm late
----- in between doing actual work, make a grocery list, read three chapters, write a paper, and respond to the three mandatory discussion questions about what to do with a used catheter, does the morgue really prefer that you leave tubing in place, and how to handle your patient dying
5:45 - leave work, woo hoo!!!
6:15 - grocery shopping at ghetto kroger cuz I'm too tired to battle walmart
6:45 - get home, unload groceries, start making dinner, unload dishwasher
7:00 - while dinner is cooking, put together next nights dinner in crock pot
7:15 - eat dinner, make brownies with BB, then clean up the kitchen

Me - don't eat the batter BB
BB - Why?
Me - because it has raw eggs in it and you'll get salmonella
BB - Daddy does it.
Me - *sigh*

7:45 - bathe the little monster....

BB - (pointing to his penis) Is this my toy?
Me - *horrified* No, that is not a toy.
BB - Can I play with it.
Me - **wishing I was anywhere BUT in this bathroom at this very second** No, you can't pl...well, yes, but not around other people....alone. No, well, just....Big Daddyyyyyy!!!!!

8:00 - wrestle him into his pj's, stuff a brownie into my fat face wondering WTF I was thinking letting him have sugar this late
8:15 - get stuff ready for the next day, make a mental note to set alarm for 15 miutes earlier so maybe, just maybe, we won't be late - again.
9:00 - ???? - study until I fall asleep and subsequently wake up with my face stuck to pg 187 of my pharmacology book. Yeah, I drool. What about it?

You just cannot make this shit up

I guess I should start off by reminding you all that BFF and I work in Greenspoint. Fondly known as Gunspoint to the rest of Houston, because it is ghetto faaabulous. Seriously, BD has forbidden me from going anywhere over here by myself because he's afraid I'll get kidnapped/gang raped/car jacked/beaten for being a cracka. I'm more than happy to oblige his request.

Sooo yesterday BFF and I were outside 'getting some fresh air' as we usually do after lunch. We are in deep conversation about important shit like politics. Okay, not really, we were talking about our hair and the effects of low lights versus high lights. Anyhow, mid sentence BFF stops and says "oh.ma.gah". I know, after hearing that, when I turn my head to the left I'm going to witness some sort of ghetto debauchery that only happens in Greenspoint. And I was right.

There was a woman on a bike with a baby. When I say "woman", I mean she was like 16, and when I say "on a bike" I mean someone elses bike that she just jacked, and when I say "with a baby" I mean she had the baby propped up on the nut bar just dangling there. The baby couldn't have been more than 12 months old. Seriously. He was sitting on the nut bar (I don't know the proper name for it okay?) with his little feet dangling dangerously close to the tire spokes. It made me really sad after I stopped laughing.

Then it got a little weirder. She stopped, picked her kid up by the elbow (as most fantastic mothers do) and put him on the sidewalk. She was obviously pissed at his lack of motor skills and ability to hang on to the nutbar. She threw his shoes on the ground. The poor little guy hurried to put his shoes on. He also didn't have pants on, in case you were wondering. She threw the bike down right there in the middle of the sidewalk and left it there. That is how I came to the not so shocking conclusion that she stole it. She grabbed the little boy and just walked off. Possibly one of the weirdest things I've ever seen in Gunspoint.

BFF and I just sat there with our mouths hanging open for a good two minutes. I looked at her and said "did that shit just really happen?"

Good times.

It's Been a While

I haven't had time to post much lately, I've been hella busy ever since this semester started and every free second I have from work or school is spent with my boys. That time is, unfortunately, few and far between. Last night I colored dinosaurs on the floor for two hours. I subsequently missed a quiz, but I was right where I wanted to be and don't regret it one bit. I keep reminding myself that I'm doing this so BB will have a better life, but that line seems so blurry sometimes. I wonder if I'm doing more damage than good.

It is so hard trying to do it all. Work full time, school full time (well, more than full time, 15 hours to be exact), plus keep up with wife and mommy duties. I'll be the first to admit that I've stretched myself too thin. I work well under pressure though. Even if I am on the verge of a mental breakdown most days. Thank god I have my good friend miller lite and a fantastic husband to help get me through. I have never been so physically and mentally exhausted as I am right now. My house looks like an all male dorm at the moment. I need a maid. A live in maid that happens to be a personal chef as well.

On another note. Is there some kind of potty training miracle advice out there? I swear we will be dropping BB off at college with a laptop and economy box of depends, cuz you know pull-ups don't come in adult sizes. I think he pees in his pants just to spite me now. Literally 5 seconds after I ask if he needs to go he will pee on himself. He's all like "whatever Ma, I does what I wants." Not really, but that's what I imagine is going on in that thick little head of his. Then he tells me to take his socks off because they're wet. No shit sherlock, you keep whizzing on yourself! The other day while I was in the shower he took off his pants and peed directly in the center of my bed. Hands on his hips and all and moving his body back and forth like his penis was a damn sprinkler. Potty training SUCKS!

And on yet another note, I had my first clinical at the hospital on Saturday. 7a-7p in the ICU, not for lightweights my friend. I never thought I'd ever say these words out loud, but I had to confiscate a bag of chips ahoy from some girls panties. I also got to do a catheter, practice an IV (yes I said 'practice' ha!), and empty a post surgical ostomy bag that was full of blood. Look it up. And you know what? I loved every minute of it! This is already promising to be a very exciting career.