A Word of Warning

I am a total teenager, and have moved from a MySpace obsession to a FaceBook obsession.

This morning, I just went to check the site (and really, it has become my main form of communication with some people. I don't know if that's sad or so convenient.), but instead of typing facebook.com I switched the e and the c around.

Up popped a bright red site with a girl sucking on a Large penis on the right, and on the rest of the page was information regarding Six Sigma training. Ironically, I had to have Six Sigma training, because I worked for CNBC, which is owned by GE. Jack Welsh created this way of doing business called Six Sigma, and after you have the training, you're a black belt and you can do anything int he business world, but mostly you make a lot of money.

Then I got to thinking, why are these things sharing a page? Is this a metaphor of big business? That the workers have to suck the cock of big corporations? Are big corporations just fucking us? Also, what if kids made that mistake and typed wrong, as I am sure they did, is it some pedophile that made that site up to lure horny teenagers?

And of course I realized that was ridiculous and it was just someone hoping I would click on something on that page and get sent to a site that would ask me for money.

So in summary, when being a teenager, be careful not to mix up your letters in the URL.

What's That Thing Called?

In Montessori land (as it should be for all kids), all of the dolls are anatomically correct. Baby Scott has a little plastic penis and Baby Jenny has a little plastic vagina. I think this is positive, so the human body is demystified and kids learn the correct names. One of the "works" in Montessori is washing the baby where two kids put on aprons and have a very specific method to undress the baby, put it in soapy water, wash it with a sponge, dry it off, and put its clothes back on. Today, two girls were washing Baby Scott, while a girl and a boy watched them.

Boy: Oh! Is that thing a plastic poop?
Girl: No, it's not that.
Boy: Yeah, I think it is! It's a poop. You need to wash it off.
Girl: No, it's not a poop. I forget what it's called, but every boy and every man has that part down between their legs. It's so they can go pee.
Boy: Oh yeah.

And So He Said...

Last night I went to bed about two hours after FP (summer hours! I actually stay up past 9 during the week). When I got in to the bedroom, he was sprawled across our king-size bed, on his back, snoring up a storm. When guys are on their backs, they tend to snore louder, so I tend to spend the night saying, "roll over babe!" and trying to push FP over. Last night was no different. FP is not one bit violent or mean in normal, waking life, but at times, his sleeping life is slightly...colorful.

Me: Roll over, babe!
FP: SHHH! no movement, he continues to snore.
Me: Roll over. start trying to push his shoulder over.
FP: SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! no movement
Me: Hey, roll over, please.
FP: WHAT THE FUCK!!!!
Me: silently stewing, telling myself I know he's not being a jerk on purpose, but thinking of what I can do for revenge. I start kicking him, hoping he'll wake up. He doesn't.
Me: ROLL OVER, BABE!!!!!!!
FP: The back and the bold are online!!!!!! ARGH!!!!!! Angrily rolls over. I settle in and get comfy.

Note to self: keep kicking.

Poop

First, thanks for all the comments and emails on FP and sleepwalking. I never knew it was so common! Rest assured, I will be keeping a log of it from now on to share his mumbling with the Internet...hopefully, he will not walk out the door in the middle of the night! My mom suggested putting a door alarm on in case he does!

And, sadly, my fam went back to NY today after being here for 10 days. I am sad. Thank god they were here for all the house and lawn stuff and other stuff that is going on. They won't be back until November, and I am sad, sad, sad. My little brother is supposed to move down here in July, so that is good. I miss having my fam so far away!

So, why is this called poop? Because that, y'all, is what I will be dealing with for the next five weeks. I am working at Play Arts, a creative camp, for three- to six-year olds. They have a lot of accidents. Today, for example, I wiped up two pee incidents and helped change a poo-pants. They also cry a lot. And pitch fits. These little ones are sooooo cute and sweet, but also pretty gross and disgusting. Also snotty, as in covered in snot.

There are many reasons I prefer wise ass middle schoolers to toddlers. Although the teenagers are smelly, crying, whiners, too, I love them because they are so awkward. I love the little ones, but I thank GOD that I don't teach them all year, or even for the eight weeks of summer. Yuck. Or, when I wrote about what my kids say, instead of writing about them talking about threesomes and oral sex, I would be writing about how they say things like:

"I gotta poop!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"I need HELLLLLLLLLLLLLP!"
"I DON'T WANT TO DO THE BOOGIE DANCE ANYMORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Layla just peed on the floor!"
"Ethan's being RUDE!"

We'll see how slowly these next five weeks go by!

After Midnight

If you come to our house in the middle of the night, you never know what might be happening. I've written before that FP has some serious snores, and while I love my husband and sleeping next to him and all that, if the snores are too much, I have no problem getting up and going to sleep in the guest room. Or, if I can't sleep, I get out of bed and go there, because if not, then I'm tossing and turning and I don't want to wake FP up.

It used to just be me that would roam around in the middle of the night, but since FP started working as an account manager for a beer distribution company last October, he has developed two new habits:

Sleep walking and sleep talking.

Sometimes it's funny, other times, a little freaky. One night we had gotten into bed and he fell right asleep, but I was reading for about an hour. Suddenly, he started thrashing about in the bed.

FP: I have to get the asjkaljd!!!!
Me: What?
FP: klajdflkafjoieuroeiur!!!!! Argh!!!!!

He then jumped out of bed and ran over to my side of the bed, put his hands down and leaned really close to my face and said, "I have GOT TO SWAP THE BEER!!!!!!!" After yelling that out, he ran into the bathroom and into our walk-in closet and flipped on the light. I got a little worried he would pee in there or something, because you never know, so I also got up.

Me: in a soothing voice Hey, you're in the closet, honey, get out of there.
FP: adflkhafhkaeyruehtkajdg!!!

Then, he flipped off the light, went into the little toilet room thing (the master bathrooms here are big with the main room having two sinks and a garden tub/shower, and then a door to the walk-in closet and another door to a little room with a toilet in it), went to the bathroom, and then got back in bed and started snoring. He did all the walking around with his eyes open. Kind-of freaky.

Last night, I went out for Artwalk and sushi with a bunch of my girlfriends, and then went to this new beach bar that you will probably be reading about a lot this summer because it is awesome. At any rate, I got a text around 9 from FP saying that he was going to bed and was going to sleep in the guest room so I wouldn't wake him up when I got home, but to come make sure I woke him up when I got home so he would know I got home safely.

Have I said I live with Captain Safety?

Anyway, when I got in at 11:45ish, I noticed some things were a little odd. For starters, the front door was unlocked. Captain Safety always makes sure all our house in locked up tight and the bolt is on at night, but it was wide open. Second, the guest room door was wide open. We keep our bedroom and the guest room door closed so the cat doesn't get in (FP is allergic to Mamba), but the door was wide open. The covers and sheets were all over the place, but there was no husband in them. I went into our room and FP was under a ton of covers and sweating to death, sound asleep, with the alarm not set. This morning, he said he went to bed in the other room and had no idea how he got into our bed. Or if he went outside at all.

Scary.

Our house: a very interesting place in the middle of the night.

The Last Post About Plumbing

It's pretty wonderful to be back in the house -- FP, Mamba, are all pretty thrilled. It's like we're discovering everything all over again: "Wow, look at how the light hits the tree!" and "This couch is so comfortable!" Even the cat is sleeping more soundly in his bed.

The saga is sort-of done. The plumbers are coming back today to fix one thing, and the drywall dust will not go away! Any tips on getting that out of here besides vacuum, mop, wood polish? That seems to be the order of my system. I've been cleaning non-stop since I've been back. AND doing yard work! It's pretty fun, though I am seriously sore.

And now, it's time to move on and blog about things other than the plumbing and drywall in my house. Hurrah!

Things I'm Distracting Myself WIth While I Am Homeless (Still)

1. Duffy's CD, Rockferry. So amazing! So beautiful. It's officially my summer CD. I am huge Amy Winehouse fan, and Duffy is like Amy times ten and minus the crack. I just love it.

2. David Sedaris's new book, When You Are Engulfed in Flames. Ha! Hilarious. I heart David Sedaris, and was so excited he was coming out with a new book. I love his style and his humor, and pretty much everything about him. I would love to hang out with him, even though he writes so much about how uncomfortable he is being social.

3. Gardening. Who knew I had a green thumb? Lawn work is pretty great, because much like cleaning, you can see results. After everything is all done, you see the finished product and it lasts. I love to clean, but dislike cooking because with cleaning, and gardening, you can see all the hours you put into it. When you cook, all that work is gone in like 15 minutes. Why bother?

4. Trying not to drink coffee. Really, when going through a stressful time, go balls to the wall, I say! I've drank coffee every day for the past five years. I have to have it, or else I get searing headaches and fuzziness and cranky, but I decided, at least for the summer, I was going to give it up. I don't like the feeling of being addicted, so I'm really, really, really trying hard not to be. The absence of coffee is really helping to distract me from:

The fact the plumbers put the wrong fucking faucets on our outdoor hose hook-ups.
The fact that the previous owner didn't disclose the slab leak existed before! Do you smell a long-drawn out legal battle? I do! Yay!
The fact we're still homeless. The wall people come today, and hopefully tomorrow night we'll be back in (please, please, please!!!).

Update: Starbucks has never tasted so good as it did this afternoon, and I don't even like Starbucks. Screw breaking the addiction.
AND!!! I'm not homeless anymore! Cleaning and painting to be done, but we're back! YAY!!!!!!

It's Summer!

Even though FP and I are still homeless until at least next Tuesday, I've decided to put my plan of being a beach bum into action.

Revelation

Last night while discussing all this work being done to the house, and when we might possibly be able to move back in, and painting, and all the stuff we have to do, and money, I came to a realization.

I do not want to be an adult.

From now on, you'll find me on the beach, drink in hand, muttering to myself. My hair will grow long, my clothes will become tattered, but I think it will be less stressful and more fun than dealing with a demolition site.

Just saying.

Update

Our staycation at my fam's is going well -- even Mamba is pleased with the accomodations. I'm at the house now to let the guys in. The walls are open and they will put all the pipes in today. They think the water will be back on this afternoon! Tomorrow they will (hopefully) be able to put the walls back on, and we are hoping we'll be back in here on Friday.

One thing about drywall: it is really dusty. Dust is everywhere!

One thing about plumbing: I cleaned out where I thought they were going to be, but long story short, they had to go in other cabinets and in the closet for some of the pipe work. So even if you think you have any embarrassing things hidden away? They get found. By the plumbers.

Like A Mini Vacation!

So.

An update on our leak: It's still bad. Pretty bad. Like 1500 gallons of water a day bad. The contractor was going to start work on the demolition of the walls and the whole new pipe system tomorrow, but they're waiting on parts, so they have to start Monday morning.

This means, we have to have the city turn off our water today so we don't get any damage, and to stop all that water flowing. FP, Mamba and I are all going to stay at my fam's house for the weekend and while the house gets worked on.

Like a vacation, since they have a pool and a big television, and a fitness center. Or at least, I keep telling myself it's like a vacation. In fact, maybe that's what we'll convince ourselves those thousands of dollars we're about to spend is going towards: a luxury vacation where we can even take the cat!

For those of you not from Florida, this repiping thing is pretty common. For some reason, houses here were built with the plumbing under the concrete slab of the foundation. Seriously? I'm not an architect and I can barely hammer a nail, but even I know that is dumb. Not only built in the slab, but out of copper.

Copper?

Florida is harsh living. The water is hard, we live on the ocean, I mean, who thinks copper can hold up?

So this repiping means that our walls and ceiling will now be ripped up to hold some PVC pipes -- and we even get a brand new water heater! And water alarm system! I don't know what that is, but it comes with our deal.

After I cried and cried to FP last night about the unfairness of money, I am over it. It could be worse. We could have a lot of damage done to our house. We could have to rip up our gorgeous floors. It could cost more than it will (which, by the way, this shit is NOT cheap. Send donations!). And it's okay that the dream of a new computer (remember when I wrote LAST YEAR about the yellow screen? Still have it!), the dream of a weekend away, and the dream of a new wardrobe have all been put to bed, but that is okay. Those things are all nice, but not important in the grand scheme of things. We're lucky we have jobs, and a house, and the cat, and all sorts of things, but of course we're the most lucky because we have each other.

I'd really love a cute new sundress, too. Just saying.

So, for the next few days, FP and I will be on a "vacation," even though poor FP has to work tomorrow. I'll try to post when I can. And don't even ask about demolition pictures because taking pictures of that kind-of shit does not interest me one bit. I do not want to see my walls ripped open and all the guts hanging out, ugh. When I say I am not a domestic goddess, I am not kidding.

Warning! Demolition Site!

Guess what? We figured out what that noise was!

It's a leak in our concrete slab!

A leak? A leak!

The water is rushing, gushing under our house -- potentially creating a sinkhole -- but definitely creating a situation that costs a lot of money!

After hours on the phone, hours waiting round, hours unshowered and on edge because I had to make sure I wasn't going to miss the plumber guy (who was supposed to come between 2 and 5 and came at 6!), I learned that not only is there a leak under our floor -- remember? we just put all new wood floors in our house that we just bought two fucking months ago -- but we need to repipe our whole house! New pipes in the whole thing because, silly, the pipes are old and copper and really, instead of demolishing the beautiful floors, they are going to demolish our beautiful walls and run pipes in the walls and ceilings instead!

And it will all cost thousands of dollars! We don't have hundreds of dollars, let alone thousands, and the visions I had of us finally being ahead and maybe even taking a weekend get-away are gone, gone, gone! Hurrah! My excitement of finally paying off our credit card and saving money? That has all been washed away with the thousands of gallons of water that are flooding the underneath of our house!

It could be so much worse and things could be seriously wrong. It could be more than just money and aggravation, like health and love and all that.

Right now, though, it pretty much sucks.

Desparate Housewives...or Just Desparate

Since we've moved in to the neighborhood, I've had all these visions of making friends with our neighbors and having fun cookouts with them, and stopping by to chat, and watching their cat while they went away and them watching ours, even watching a favorite show together. Or having them just walk in to the house. It was all so innocent, these visions, and taking me back to when I was growing up and we lived next to my grandparents, my girl Ally and her family, and then my "Uncle" George and "Aunt" Christie and the one million and one people that lived with them (their kids, her sister and her kid, grandparents...they had a huge house). We'd all hang out and swim in each other's pools and play in the woods together and catch fireflies and sometimes have softball or volleyball games. I wanted that in our new house.

FP? Not so much. He's not quite the social bee that I am. We have friends here in Jax and he was content with them, and I am, too, of course, but I want to know the neighbors!

But how does one do this? Some of my friends advised against it, "Don't be too chummy with the neighbors! Then, they're all up in your grill!!! Stay away!" Other friends were all about it, "I love my neighbors!! Woo!!"

Still, this didn't answer the question of how to become friends with the neighbors. Walk up to the door and knock? Loiter creepily outside the house waiting for them to come over? Run up to them as soon as they step outside and introduce myself? Seriously.

One morning, a week or so after we moved in, I did meet our immediate neighbor -- a woman about our age with a husband and a son. She was super nice. Unfortunately, we were both getting in our cars to go to work (and of course I was late), so we had a brief introduction and promises of invites for a cookout. I was excited. Progress!

But that was it! Every time I came home, ready to just go introduce myself to a neighbor, no one was out! And when they were out, I was coming home sweaty from bikram, and seriously, it's as if I just jumped in a pool and got out, that is how sweaty I am and that is not really how I want to meet someone. In fact, if I am on my way home from yoga and FP asks me to stop and pick something up, it's always a no. Does he no understand the level of disgustingness??

And then! Then, today --a breakthrough! Dana (my neighbor) came home when I did and we talked for 30 minutes! She gave me the lowdown on our neighbors and told me about who was here before us in the house, and gave me some good gossip. It was awesome. And the gossip was not mean and catty in a way that I am worried she is now going to gossip about us, but more like about the homeowner's association and the firepit our across-the-street neighbor has and stuff like that.

So, it's exciting. I called FP right away to tell him of the developments. He naturally acknowledged what a dweeb I am, and really? Do I really think like this?

The answer is yes. I'm getting my firefly jar ready!

I Usually Keep This Out Of My Blog, But....

Dear Hillary,

It's over. Seriously. Give it up. There is no way you can even get close to winning. Bow out gracefully, because you're starting to look ridiculous. I never really liked you much to begin with, I was more of a Bill fan, and when you were my senator, you didn't do much for me. I put that all aside and listened to you, and you have some good points, but you're just too much of a Politician for me. You heard the people, step aside.

Sincerely,
Disgruntled

Dear Barak,

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!
I knew you could do it.
Don't feel pressured you need to pick Hillary for a VP. I'll still love you and vote for you and all, but you don't need her and Bill to unite the party. We'll all come together for you, and the people that don't are idiots to either vote against you or not at all just because they're mad Hillary didn't get it. I'd say go for Richardson or Biden, but that's just me.

Lots of Love,
Yet another Obama girl

Which Would You Prefer?

Me: Guess what? I think I'm getting baby fever.
FP: You better find a cure to break that fever real quick!
Me: I know, I know. It's not realistic right now. But I totally want a baby!! I don't know what it is. But, I really am getting serious baby fever.
FP:....
FP: So, I saw that ShamWow! commercial today.
Me: Oooh! Those things are so cool!
FP: Yeah. I want a ShamWow! before I want a baby.