Out of Sight, Out of Mind?

Hardly!

I bring this message to you from a somewhat quieter than usual house of debauchery, as my beloved has gone away for a few days. This is the first time in three years that we'll have been sleeping apart, and it's a little strange. She is exploring the great white North. No, not that far. South a bit. A little further. Ok, now North a bit. East. East. You got it, right there.

On Friday night, we will be meeting up in the delightful little town of Mystic, CT. Our lives have honestly been a little too hectic to warrant much time for relaxation, so we're going to make the most of this nice little weekend away.

I don't have news for you, pets, that you don't already know. I got my visa - although I am still trying to summon up the courage to read through all the paperwork - so that's calming. We have a brand new car, Charlie the Mini Cooper Clubman. The kitten is her usual adorable, obnoxious self, and is feeling remarkably better than she's ever been. We are currently having Central Air installed in the house, finally, two years after we moved in, and that will be positively blissful.

I would actually like to take this opportunity to direct you towards a site that has me rolling on a regular basis. Momversation is an extremely amusing site running videos of 10 regular panelists, and a few guests thrown in once in a while. Each video has a designated topic, and the Mommies talk about their views on the subject. They just have such a way with words, and some of the expressions are priceless. It's not nice to have favorites, but I'm particularly partial to Heather, Alice, Mindy and Maggie.

Take a gander: you'll be glad you did. And remember, nuns are watching you.

One Step Closer

This afternoon, at approximately 1pm, I received word from my attorneys that my petition for H-1B status as a non-immigrant worker had been accepted. This is quite the weight off, my friends! As of October this year, my visa will kick in, lasting until September 2012. Hopefully at some point during the next three years, I can pull it all together enough to get my green card and finally, finally make an honest woman out of this here Yank I'm chained to!

OK, so it's an emotional time, and it's brought out the stoic Brit in me. So sue me! I'm so thrilled. So much money, and I'm just so glad it wasn't all for nothing. What a great way to celebrate our fourth anniversary together!

Hardcore Long time, eh?

And is she coming back with a bang? A flourish?

Nay. She's coming back with a video. A video that has nothing to do with us, but that I saw over at Mindy's site, and thought was really rather amusing. That's Brit for hilarious.

What it feels like to be told about a new sibling:




We'll be back soon, I promise. *smooches*

Just be thankful it's not a scratch and sniff post

It seems that I am a creature of sheer luck, and every time I utilize the facilities where I work, it is inevitable that a certain woman from another department will follow me in there. It can't be planned, I'm certain - but it boils down to this:

It's foul.

From the sounds, the odd intermittent noises, the grunts and sighs and noises that couldn't possibly emanate from a mouth - my conclusion was - that can't be human.

I've got a strong stomach, and I'm very good at holding the hair of a loved one whilst they vomit or partake of something similar. This, however, I cannot endure. I find myself gagging at the sounds - my mouth watering that ungodly amount that indicates "Look out, Bitches - you're gonna hurl!" If I can get past it - the battle's only half over.

I can't leave my stall - I'm trapped in my stall of hell. She saw me enter, and I am frozen in fear and horror - doomed to cower in there silently until the ordeal has finished.

Phase II begins immediately after, with the foulest odors one could imagine. I would prefer to stick my nose deep within the rotting intestinal cavity of a 3 week old corpse that had been in the trunk of a parked car sitting in the sun who's last meal consisted solely of vast amounts of cabbage.

I want to scream "Courtesy Flush Please!!!" but it's no secret who I am, and I'd only drool out the saliva in my mouth that is pooling there while trying not to vomit.

At this point I'm breathing through my mouth and trying not to drown from my watering mouth. Breathing through my nose is NOT an option. Fleeting images of random things pop into my head that further disgust me - 2 girls/1 cup; possible escape routes blocked by mounds of feces; hot dogs; opening the stall door and finding a sloth-like dragon in the stall who belches a little smoke and asks me to excuse her because she ate too many villagers and it upset her tummy.

Unfortunately, there is no polite dragon. Only the beast within the other stall. I finally hear a gurgling flush as the toilet struggles to take in the damage. The grunting continues as I imagine the poor soul/evil creature who did this is adjusting themselves in the stall. I hear flush number two, as the toilet sucks down much more fluidly than the first time. I can picture the possible marks left on the porcelain and I shudder.

Seconds drag and I finally hear the latch to the stall slide open and she strolls to the sinks while the toilet flushes for the third time. the main door opens and closes and there is silence. I grab my opportunity, and run from the stall and bathroom , down an opposite corridor, gulping fresh air as I run. I wait down the hall until I feel it's safe, and make my way back to my department, holding my breath as I hurried past the bathroom.

Why my timing is such that I endure this ritual at least 3 times in any given week, I'll never know.

Pull the Cord on 3...

You know the decision to diet was wise when while throwing your undies across the room, they turn into a parachute... I'm less than amused.

It's Not What it Sounds Like

All week, we've been planning a BBQ at work, and today the plans came to fruition. The weather cooperated, the chef was great, and lots of fun was had by all, considering we squeezed it into our lunch hour.

Everything's going swimmingly. Everyone's laughing and joking around, nomming our way happily through lots of food. One of the chaps is trying to come up with an excuse to spend the rest of the day outside. He says he wants to mandate that everyone bring out their computer towers and blow the dust out of them with some fresh air, because, well, it IS memorial day weekend.

And genius here, without thinking AT ALL, says: "Yes, we have to remember those towers that have previously fallen."

Silence.

I'm looking around like, what? I know it wasn't THAT funny, but a smirk or something? Anyone?

DR finally says: "Ouch?"

And I realize that I have inadvertently made them all think that the new-girl-foreigner-on-the-block just made a 9/11 joke. Brilliant.

Forget Swine Flu... It's Sudden Lesbian Syndrome!!

I thought the headline was another FARK joke, but no, I read on further to see that Oprah and CNN really issued reports and dedicated blog postings to this new affliction. My question is, where were these women 10 years ago, and why didn't I go to school to be a nurse in some specialty clinic for this!

In the interest of fair blogging, I offer you the links for CNN.com and Oprah.com articles, as well as the best photo of Her Majesty "O" I have ever seen.
Enjoy kids.




http://www.cnn.com/2009/LIVING/personal/04/23/o.women.leave.menfor.women/


http://newsbusters.org/blogs/warner-todd-huston/2009/05/04/cnn-oprah-com-calls-sudden-lesbian-syndrome-new-trend-without-an

Alphabits Vomit

Remember that Alphabits cereal? Well, right now my brain feels a bit like a Alice in Wonderland sized bowel of it drowning in swirly milk, and I only have a piece of string to try to eat it with. So, in a jumbled fashion I am going to spew forth some of what is on my mind, and hope it does me some kind of good and keeps me out of an asylum. Please remember it's a stream of consciousness kind of thing, so if it makes no sense to you, you might be better off - and I am not responsible for any streams that it might trigger in you.

Hermaphrodite insensitive wankers users making days long and difficult choking feeling breathing meditating peace and calm washing over then turning to black big cysts or lumps or what they find and won't confirm or deny making it harder and harder to figure out how I feel and not concentrate on death and sickness Jesus shaped ducks and Jehovah's witnesses at my door early on a Saturday morning to have a 'discussion' unable to move in my own space unable to function normally walking on eggshells tired of the repetitive drama that is stale and old how many colors they now make for cars and how few of those are available on the specific model I choose value versus affording versus debt versus me and what's MY value? Debt vs. Me while others disavow responsibility and I shoulder even more as the weight crushes and I yell for the penguin to stop it from happening - Burma! but it's already exploded
wheezing when I'm face first to the wind and drowning in the daily routine of life knowing what needs to be done and lacking the ability to lift my arm

making excuses for the leeches around me and failing to get past my guilt of not being everything to everyone

loving the walk of the Buddhist path and yet lamenting (which I wouldn't if I was a better Buddhist) that I am not walking it well enough...
caffeine caramel and calories ball gazer dean Sparkling Silver is the name of the color of our car with black jacks.
frustration pouring out of my ears and they are on fire. my ears radiate heat and my throat runs dry with desperation, wanting to have the slightest bit of control over my life and knowing it's desperately out of my hands. Stop poking me in the stomach I don't like it!! don't pick the most inappropriate times to talk to me and don't assume I will always be here to wipe your ass
inconsiderate assmunchers destined to never overcome their own inability to grow the fuck up
i miss incense and candles Me time drained tired and unable to meet all the demands on me, but am I at fault for allowing these demands to be placed on me babies pink and brown and yoinks that deflate me travel getting into the new motor and just going. Driving north until i feel happy again, until I can breathe. bottom of the ninth, why are the red sox losing and why do I even feel responsible for that?? wish I could have seen the Dalai Lama today in Mass and even as i try ridding myself of desire, i want.


If you came this far, you deserve a treat. I don't even care that it's misspelled. He's so freaking adorable.

2 Girls, 1 CuppaHolyCrapWTFBBQ?

Ok, I guess I am slow on the uptake, and I really had no interest in seeing the internet phenom commonly referred to as "2G1C", however tonight L and I saw a link about fake "reactions" to the video by Kermit the Frog and Mario & Luigi. After watching the reactions, it seemed a harmless enough thing to just casually see what the fuss is about. For the record, we were on Wikipedia, looking up the proper term for fecal fetishism, which for you bibliophiles is "coprophagia" and is a killer for a scrabble game.

If you know me, then you know I am not a prude, I'm not shy, and not much shocks me. Lisa, for the most part, is a Brit version on me, so not too much shocking there. Tonight, after the approx. 2 minute clip had gone start to finish with us sitting, mouths agape and expressionless had a very short heart to heart. Here's how it went...

(outro of video clip ends...)

Me: Hon?

L: (After a few moments pause of someone suffering a trauma) Um... Yeah?

Me: Whatever happens, just... well... please don't ever ask me to do that.

L: Um... Seriously. (gags a bit) I need to leave the room. (Gags again and walks out as I turn to the screen to write this)

(End)

Still curious? Ok, but be warned - it's not from us, and it's not OF us. Good luck ever eating chocolate ice cream again. I'm scarred for life - and they weren't even pretty.
At Your Own Risk:

http://www.flurl.com/video/5496822_comments.htm

Conversation at "the Hotel"

"Bellhop #1" : Dude, parents are cruel. I feel bad for this dude.
"Concierge" : I've heard worse last names than "Hymen". It's not that bad.
"Bellhop #1" : True, I mean, I guess.

Pause

"Bellhop #2" (aka Me) : Yeah, like his first name could have been "Buster."


So, it only took a tiny "Buster Hymen" joke to make me giggle this morning.