The Squirrel Chronicles

Since taking a second job to finance my elopement, the days are tending to blend into eachother. Today was a 12 hour work day, and so will be the next 2 days.

God Bless Juan for putting up with my crap.

Damn, I hate Bratz Dolls.

Anyway, i haven;t done slang saturday in awhile. Mostly because i suck. So here is Slang Today:

PADUNKADUNK:

Also known as badunkaunk, indicates that the subject has a lot of junk in the trunk. Big ass, use it to put your ashtray on. Smack it and ride the wave.
Damn, look at the padunkadunk on her!

This is my FAVORITE new word.
As in:
My padunkadunk looks fab in my wedding dress which I finally found this weekend.

Juan approached me today, and said
"I got you a present"

Me: "ooh! What is it?"

Juan: (opens had to reveal a 3 inch technological looking gadget)

Me: blink. blink.

Juan: It's a thumb drive.

Me: A whoosiewhatsy?!

Juan: It's 256 megabytes of memory.

me: English please?!

Juan: It's for the COMPUTER.

Me: Stop using BIG WORDS like COMPUTER! I don't UNDERSTAND YOU.

In an effort to please me, Juan has been growing out his FABULOUS thick, curly hair.
The tiny curly cues which pop up all over his head, delight me to no end.
Today I heard him in the bathroom, and the blowdryer was running. Curious, I walked in. I found him brushing his curls into a full blown afro.
It was silmultaneously the most freakish and hysterical sight of my life.
Then he asked me for the curling iron.
I stopped him right there, before he got into my make up.

6 AM alarm
+
7 hours of pre schoolers
+
1 hour workout
+
Nick's 24th Birthday party
+
4 (or was it 5?) vodka cranberries
----------------------------------------------------------
1 passed out girl

A group of people discussing an episode of Nip Tuck they had all seen, wherein a victim of an amusement park ride had her face torn off. The mother of a different girl, (comatose and NOT waking up), offers to donate her daughter's face to the amusement park ride victim.
Female: "The face replacement procedure didn't go very well, so I'm not sure what happened to the girl with no face."

Male: "I guess she could always be a greeter at Wal Mart!"

Ok, I ate the damn chocolate.
But I made myself eat carrots and an apple first. I'm figuring the nutrients may disguise the sugar.

Today I went into an adorable little sewing shop in a nearby village. I promised I wouldn't buy anything. The cash in my purse, however, had other plans.
I got THE CUTEST Amy Butler pattern. It is so cute that i squealed and flapped my hands in the air when I saw it. I can't tell you what it is, because I am going to make it as a present for Payton's VERY FIRST birthday in March. But I will post pictures in March, It will probably take me that long to finish it.
In other news, it is snowing here tonight. and I don't have a snowbrush yet.
I am also planning a drunken escapade next Tuesday. Stay posted. Those pictures should be interesting.

I have absolutely NO excuse to be as bitchy as I am today. I got a good night's rest, the kids at work were charming and adorable, AND it is a payday.
While I was blow drying my hair after the gym, I asked Juan if he would please put away the leftovers from dinner. (We were in a hurry to go out)
Of course, he was glad to comply.
When I finished my hair, I walked into the kitchen, and there was Juan, sitting on the floor, surrounded by the ENTIRE contents of the fridge.
I was SO peeved.
I can't believe I am complaining because Juan was cleaning.
I guess it was because we needed to be somewhere and he started an entire project 10 minutes before we had to leave.

Possibly, the bitchiness is due to the lack of chocolate in my diet. I am trying very hard to eat less sugar. It is VERY difficult. And I am beginning to think, TOTALLY not worth it.

Yesterday, in another wildly exciting Saturday night, Juan and I played Monopoly. For the first time together, EVER.

I think the first time one plays Monopoly with somebody, it is ALWAYS a revealing and potentially dangerous situation. It is a cut throat, take no prisoners kind of game.

First there was the argument about whose 'House Rules" we were going to play by. Then there was the compromise to just follow the directions, and play by Parker Bros. rules.
I then settled back to make obsrvations of my opponent. He is one of those pkayers that keeps his money in order AT ALL TIMES, and stacks it neatly to his right. I tend to separate my bills into piles, and anchor them under the board. Juan is also one of "THOSE" players that must keep a 500 dollar bill on hand AT ALL TIMES.
I also found out that he is not a very savvy propert trader. After I snatched up all the railroads, utilities, the orange, red and light blue properties, he was a GONER.
I opted to end the game nicely before I forced him into bakruptcy. My favorite quote of the evening was:
"You owe me 1500 dollars"
"What?! No!"
"Don't MAKE me go get the calculator!'

In other news, today I did my very fisrt "furbaby rescue!"
When Buddy died, I signed up to transport abandoned and neglected dogs to their new adoptive homes. So today I took Sierra partway to Albany, where she will get to live happily with her new loving family.
It is a really great website, you can visit the furbabies at:
www.shihtzuandfurbabyrescue.com

Juan came over about an hour ago and told me we had to sit down today and make some decisions about our wedding reception.
Panic immediately set in.
So here i am typing away quietly in my bedroom while Juan makes dinner.
I am hoping he will forget that i exist. Then I can avoid making decisions.

I do not WANT to pick a "color scheme"!
I do not WANT to decide what color the frosting will be on our cake!
I do not WANT to decide what our centerpieces will be, and i DEFINITELY do not want to discuss anything about our families meeting eachother.

I feel a stroke coming on.

My dying wish is to eat my weight in chocolate.
I am going to start with the bag of chocolate chips in the fridge.

I am having one of THOSE weeks.

The kind where EVERYTHING I touch falls on the ground. And NOT JUST fall on the ground, but fall on the ground and roll under the couch into the deepest, dustiest corner possible. And if it happens that what I am touching does not fall on the ground, something on the OTHER SIDE OF THE ROOM falls, just to spite me and make swear at inanimate objects. This is frequently happening with my toothbrush. This is disgusting and makes me soak my toothbrush in alcohol twice a day because it fell on the bathroom floor, where i am sure all sorts of POOP GERMS are lurking. I have the kind of toothbrush that is electric and it costs 12 dollars to replace one head. So you see why i must soak in alcohol instead of buying a new toothbrush.

It is also the kind of week where I do the laundry, fold all my underwear and bras, and then I can't find them the next morning.
WHY CAN'T I FIND THEM the next morning? Because they are in my SOCK drawer.
I do not know WHY they are in my sock drawer, but I KNOW I must have put them there.

It is the kind of week where children at work have bowel movement accidents, and do not cover their cough when they are 3 inches from your face, telling you a story about Pokemon.

It is also the kind of week in which I have a head cold and a SEVERE case of PMS, which only makes everything THAT MUCH WORSE.

It is time for some hot apple cider, a good book and my fake down comforter. (Because, of course, I am ALLERGIC to the real kind. Just like I am ALLERGIC to everything ELSE on the FACE OF THIS PLANET)

On second thought, maybe I just better go right to sleep.

Did anyone else hear that William Hung died last night in Vegas from a heroin overdose?

I have MORE rodent problems.
MORE.
I should probably stop posting about all my apartment issues. I don't want strangers thinking that i live in some hideous, unclean place. It is really a lovely place with hardwood floors and a cute fireplace with blue tiles.
So anyway, the latest offender is my stove.
For 2 weeks, I have been telling Juan that I have a ghost, because each night, it sounds like someone is in the kitchen putting the dishes away.
Juan, being of the logical and intelligent mindset, simply blew me off.
But it turns out that I had TWO MICE livng in the BROILER DRAWER of my gas stove. How the pilot light didn't set them on fire is a mystery to me.
Has anyone ever tried those Have a Heart Traps, the kind that don't kill the mouse?
Yeah, THEY DON"T WORK.
So I bought the lethal kind, and the mouse problem is over. I found the last one this morning. The trap didn't exactly catch his neck. It caught him right behind the eyes. I will not go into detail about crushed skulls or bulging eyeballs.
I felt pretty guilty about it, but then I figured it was probably nicer to get it over with quicker than to turn on the broiler and watch a flaming mouse run across the kitchen floor.

Today I went back to work from my bout of vomiting yesterday. I didn't eat much, so when i got home, I was STARVING! I attacked a pumpkin cake with cream cheese frosting that I left out on the counter (covered in Saran Wrap).
As I am shoving the pumpkin delight into my mouth, I look down at the cake.
The cream cheese frosting was COVERED WITH ANTS.
Apparently the balmy 60 degree weather we had today woke the battalions. AND THEY WERE HUNGRY. And they were eating my cake.
And I was eating them.

I love pumpkin bread, pumpkin pie, pumpkin cake, pumpkin seeds, pumpkin muffins, pumpkin donuts. Seriously, I could eat it everyday. (And I DO this time of year)
Juan hates pumpkin and it is a serious point of contention in our relationship. He makes gagging sounds whenever I pull something cinnamon-y and pumpkin-y out of the oven, all warm and ready for some butter .... mmmm.
Last night, at midnight, I woke up in a sweat, and had the "Uh-Oh" feeling. The kind of "uh-oh feeling" where you think to yourself: "If I am not within 5 foot access of a toilet at ALL TIMES, I will surely explode from both ends and soil my new sheets."
I RAN down the hallway and proceeded to vomit on an HOURLY basis until 5 am. I spent a lot of time on the bathroom floor, bargaining with God.
When Round 5 was finally over, I called Juan to give him the gory vomit details. I was expecting some sympathy and piteous cooing. Instead, I got: "It's all the pumpkin! STOP EATING PUMPKIN!"