Major League baseball is watching....

Anyone remember that Simpson's episode where the government watched your every move through Major League baseball?  I loved that one.  That's always what I think of when I think of big brother/conspiracies.

Anyways.....Hubby is convinced that the Celts will not win in six games because Playoff and Championship series are rigged.  I'm not sure what I think.  I just know I'm getting pretty tired with all of these late games.  I'm not even a huge Basketball fan, but I love cheering for Boston.  I love Boston...everything. 

I am loving the Celtics lately though.  For several reasons.....
1. The random celebrity sightings that the finals are causing (one of hubbies friends saw Magic Johnson in Starbucks, and another got a mani at the same place/time as Charles Barkley)
2. Big Baby.  Need I say more?
3. On the coverage of them getting on the plane this morning, Rondo was carrying a McDonalds bag.

Go Celts!  I hope you win in Six....therefore proving hubby wrong :)

Just another Manic Monday...

This morning when I got to work, I was planning on drafting two blog articles right away.  One was going to be about Saturday, and the other about Sunday.  But, then one simple email sent to my boss at 9:00 turned into a two hour and several email conversation.  I got frustrated, and the paragraph that I happily wrote before I dared to email about switching my on call duties on the weekend of the fourth, was trashed.

Now that it's 9:00 on Monday night it seems kinda silly to write about the weekend, when a whole day of stuff has happened today.  I thought maybe I'd write about reading and the favorites of the books I had written since I started my job ( and my daily train commute) in August.  I had pulled up goodreads and started typing out my list.  I'm a freak of nature when it comes to reading.  There were just too many.  I got tired. 

So, here I am, writing a blog entry about the blog entries I was going to write today but didn't.  I'm also trying to ignore that I can hear Guinness getting into shit in the dining room.  I just feel so lazy and tired right now. 

In conclusion, I've definitely got a case of the Mondays (never fail.  I thank my soul crushing job).  Tomorrow will be better. But for now, I'm going to go regulate Mr. Guinness, curl up in my snuggie, and read a little Weird New England while hubby plays his war xbox game thing (we call it Nuke Tubbin).  If anything can turn a shitty day right, it's reading about freaks of nature, ghosts and ancient structures :)

Everyone cross your fingers for me that tomorrow is a better day :)

Victoria's Secret, we're in a fight

Dear Victoria's Secret,

    First I want to say, I've never been a huge fan of your product. Yet, until now, I had no real reason, other than price, to base this dislike upon.  I think your product is just too expensive.  Maybe I'm just cheap.  I don't know. This is really besides the point.  About a year and a half ago I ordered a bunch of bathing suits from you, since you were having a good sale, for my honeymoon.  When the package arrived you had thrown in two pairs of underwear.  One I absolutely hated and only wear when there's nothing better that's clean.  The other pair was a seamless Body by Victoria pair, in a horrible yellow color.  I wore these from time to time cause they were pretty good for not creating VPL.

    I go to the gym at work on my lunch break.  I do this to relieve stress from my job and try to be healthy.  As Americans we kinda have the odds stacked against us when health is concerned.  Since I have to go back to work after working out, I always bring a clean pair of underwear.  I know this seems like I'm giving up too much personal information, but please, just wait.  Today, I brought your shitty pair of underwear.  As I went to pull them on in the shower they BROKE.  The side, which was not tearing, or had any visible damage, completely split apart.  For a second I wasn't sure what to do, and then I decided to tie the sides together, diaper style, so that I didn't have to finish the day panty-less.

    So, as I sit here writing this letter, wearing putrid colored yellow underwear, that is tied in a knot on the left side, not out of style but necessity, I can't help but worry about the right side.  Will I be walking somewhere, and feel that snap apart?  Thank you for your products shoddy workmanship, as it has given me a reason, other than my tight wallet, to never shop at your store again.  Victoria's Secret, we are officially in a fight.  Terrible F

Guinness' Reign of Terror

Last night Hubby and I grabbed dinner in Boston before going home.  We met up with one of his work friends that he's planning on starting the firm with, and her fiance.  Hubby and I ran into the Sidebar for a drink before we met them.  I had a Jim Daly (I had told him to surprise me), which I had never heard of before.  Holy Deliciousness.  Apparently, a Jim Daly (named after who my hubby tells me is a golf legend) is sweet tea vodka and lemonade.  Now I know what I can make with my nip of sweet tea vodka (and I was thinking I was going to have to drink it straight!).  We met them at Elephant and Castle (which was packed, but delicious).  Good times were had by all.  Sadly, for our dog Guinness, we didn't get home from work until 10.  Don't worry about his little bladder though, mother in law lives right down the street from us and stops by to let our her baby several times a day.  Otherwise we would have never stayed out so late.

Mr. Guinness was, of course, happy to see us when we got home, but did not settle down well after that.  After having a few drinks, I was exhausted.  I ran downstairs to get my freshly washed Snuggie (not a real Snuggie but a Brookstone nap blanket snuggie, best thing ever), and immediately fell asleep on the couch.  When I awoke, to go to bed, I went into the bathroom and saw destruction.  I was annoyed.  Why didn't Hubby stop Guinness from tearing up my bathroom basket (which I will now have to replace).  Apparently, Hubby did notice that Guinness was up to no good.  Yet, I rose from the couch and adamantly demanded that Guinness was fine.  That I could see him and that he was doing nothing.  I remember NOTHING of this.  I was told I even picked up the dog and started petting him.  I kinda hazily remember this. 

I wish this was the first time that I had a full out conversation with Hubby in my sleep.  I wish I could say that it was happening because I take Ambien or one of those other sleep aid, walking coma inducing drugs.  But no, this craziness is natural and medically unadulterated.  Fabulous.   I'm not sure why Hubby trusts what I'm saying when he knows that I've been sleeping, but I really can't blame him, it's pretty messed up.  My eyes were open and everything, he says (remember, I have absolutely no recollection).

 Sadly, this morning, all I'm left with are the sad remains of Guinness' Reign of Terror, so I've decided to share them with you.  I think his methods worked.  We're definitely coming home right after work today.  I wouldn't think to piss him off again today.

  "Take that Mom and Dad!"

 

 

 

 

"They won't be doing that again!"

Hit the Road Jack!!

Boston Pride! Go Celts!!!

Do I smell an idea?

I stumbled across this blog today called http://ashleyannphotography.com.  She has some really really gorgeous photos on there, and some DIY ideas.  One of the ideas is this pallet bed that she made for her daughters nursery:

http://ashleyannphotography.com

 

 

 

 

 

 I absolutely LOVE this bed. What do you think Hubby (since I force you to read my blog), should we try this for the spare bedroom?

Holy Sh*t Mother Nature!

My parents got Hubby a fancy alarm clock from the Sharper Image for Christmas.  It's supposed to wake you up with the "soothing" sounds of nature.  When we first got it we went to set it up and it didn't work.  Mom and Dad were notified, and the cell phone charger console thingy was setup, in place of the clock, on my nightstand.  The alarm clock was sent back to Maine and exchanged.  It returned to us around February (I think).  Since then it's been lost onto of the hope chest at the end of the bed, under a sea of dirty and clean clothes. 

In our apartment laundry is something that has kind of evaded us for most of the time we have lived in sin/married.  At our last apartment there wasn't exactly laundry in the building.  The machines were physically there, but they didn't work.  We would infrequently (very infrequently) go to the laundry mat and scrub a dub.  But, here, in the "new" apartment we have laundry downstairs.  Despite that fact, we seem to be just as lazy.  Dirty laundry piles up, and in an attempt to straighten up our act and function like real adults we will do it.  Will we put it away?  Hell no!   Recently, I've decided, if we are ever going to bring a child into the world, we need to first learn how to pick up after ourselves.  We need to consistently "act like adults".

Just a little back-story for you, but .....here we are back at the alarm clock.  In an attempt to act like an adult, hubby put away his clothes on the hope chest and found the long lost alarm clock.  He decided it needed to be setup and utilized.  Since October (or September, I can't remember)  I had been using my iphone as an alarm.  The close proximity of the charging station thingy made it quite convenient.  I would set three of the most obnoxious sounding alarms I could find.  The first as 5:50am, the second at 6:00 and then 6:05.   One would think that it would be impossible to sleep through three alarms right?  WRONG?  I was constantly sleeping through the alarms, because after the first alarm I would grab the phone off the caddy and snuggle with it in bed (like it was a teddy bear).  Hubby sets up the nature alarm clock on top of my wardrobe, on the other side of the room.  So I have to get out of bed to turn it off. Great.

Monday is the inaugural day of waking up with nature.  I had picked a foghorn.  Imagine being in a boat on an ocean near a rocky shore....you hear a noise that says "stay the hell back from the rocky shore", that's the sound.   6:10 am comes on Monday, and the fog horn turns on. I wake up with a start, screaming "Holy Shit" and turn it off.  Crap....shower time.  Monday night we decide to change the sound.  This time hubby thinks that ocean noises might be nice.  No....not nice.  I basically thought the world was ending when I woke up Tuesday morning.  Last night, he says he's going to surprise me with the sound.  The surprise is that he didn't change it, and I woke up thinking that Armageddon was happening for the second day in a row.

All good stories end with a moral, Aesop would tell you this.  The moral of this story, nature is not relaxing, nature is damn scary.