Cops and Robbers

It has been a while since I posted anything but that is because our office was broken in for a second time last weekend and I have been without a computer. I walked into the office on Monday morning and noticed that all my files were on the floor. Immediately, I thought our cleaning lady had dropped them and left. Why wouldn't she just pick them back up and put them away? That's weird. Then I noticed that my desk was slightly tipped over. Why wouldn't Julia just put the desk back in its normal position rather than leaving my desk a shamble before leaving for the day? Holy shit! Where's my computer?!! God Dammit, we were robbed...again! Sometimes it takes a while for things to sink in for me. Oh, I was so pissed off. I looked around and saw that Nathan and Rob's computers were gone. The back door was missing it's knob. The sad thing is Nathan had purchased two "fake" survaliance cameras to put up and hope to scare the theives off. They were still in their packaging and had also been stolen. I'm sure they were laughing their asses off when they saw how smart we were. No, this time they did not go through my drawer to steal my snacks, however, they did take out one of my gatorades out of the fridge and ate one of my tapioca puddings. Why?! Needless to say, we have learned our lesson twice and are now installing a security system. I was planning on just putting a sign on our doors that said, "We Have Nothing Left...You Took It All" as a means to send them on their way. When the police came, I told them that I felt like I was in the scene of The Big Labouski when The Dude gets his stolen car back and asks the cop if he has any strong leads yet. The cop then tells him that they have set aside the murders and the rapes to get on the case of the stolen car. I felt like we were probably at the bottom of the priority list to solve this break in mystery. Now we get to decide how to break it to the insurance company and not get dropped.

Wednesday, I had a doctors appointment for my 14th week. We got to hear the baby's heart beat! It was beating at 160 beats per minute. All my blood work came back normal and my iron count looked great. The doctor measured me and said everything looked great and normal. Apparently I'm very normal. She gave us the paperwork to set up the Ultrasound appointment to determine the sex of the baby and suggested on her way out that we try the Drano test. I was pleasantly suprised at the suggestion to test out an old wives tale. She said that all of her patients swear by it and it has been 100% accurate for all of them. She said, if anything, it would be fun. Well, we tried it last night. We're not saying what the outcome was. We don't want to say anything until we have the ultrasound which is scheduled for July 27th. It's our little secret we'll keep between the two of us for about a month. After the ultrasound, I'm sure we'll tell everyone so that we can all go shopping.

Wednesday night I sensed what felt like a little bubble pop in my belly. It wasn't gas.

Mustard Only, Please

I had a hot ham and cheese sandwich from a deli in Mukilteo yesterday. I ordered it with mustard. When I got in my car and began enjoying my fabulous sandwich, my shirt and pants also had the pleasure of having some. When I got home, I had at least 7 lovely bright mustard spots down my new black and white striped shirt and on my white pants including enough crumbs to make another sandwich. I was quite the site. I suppose I'm subconsciously preparing myself for the type of laundry I'll be doing when the little one arrives. Or...maybe I'm just messy.

Faux Pas

Did I accidentally walk into a time machine and warp back to the 70s? I ask this question because I have noticed many men displaying mustaches on their faces. Why? Are there that many women out there that find it attractive? Are they growing this thing on their face because "they can"? I'm pretty sure if I could grow one, I wouldn't. I saw two guys sitting at a bus stop today both sporting a very hairy upper lip and it made me wonder. I started thinking about men that I see from time to time that also wear this crazy accessory. There's a lot of them out there. Goatees do not necessarily fall into the same category. It's a different look all together. The mustache, however, lacks the tough and masculine effect. The goatee looks like the guy started shaving in the morning, got lazy, and ultimately changed his mind and stopped right in the middle of it. That doesn't take much planning. The mustache, on the other hand, takes time and precision. It's kind of like a guy carefully plucking and shaping his eye brows. I don't mean any disrespect to those who have one, but I always think there is something sinister lurking in a mustache. What is the man hiding behind all that gross hair? What about the guys who wear them from the time they were able to grow one? Have they thought about changing things up a bit by shaving it off? I wonder if there is an air valve hidden in there that deflates the man when the mustache is removed. WHAT IS THE SECRET BEHIND THE STACHE? Whatever it is, I don't really care. Just get rid of it because it makes you look evil. Remember, Guns don't kill people, People with mustaches kill people. That's a known fact.

Another wrong doing by this generation's female youth is their choice in fashion. If it looks good on the rack, it should probably stay there. Another good rule of thumb to go by is this: if there is a cute outfit on a mannequin and your body looks nothing like that of the plastic body, you should turn around and look elsewhere for new clothes. My issue is this, why wear very tight low riding jeans unless you have a small waistline and cute ass? There are several young ladies out there that insist on wearing the trendy clothes and offend everyone within eye site. This would be the size 12 girl who wears the size 4 jeans. Her ass is pulled tight into the pants which still looks droopy and saggy, all the while her rolling belly, back fat, and "love handles" are poking out of her too small, too short, too tight top. Then there is the very short mini skirts that are out again in time for this summer to make us all sick. You know the ones. They're usually white. Holy Hell these are awful. We almost never get to see the girls with nice legs sporting this look. It's always the girls whose one large leg should equal two, so there are basically four legs coming out of this itsy bitsy skirt. Yikes. What happens when they drop something? I hope I'm not around when they bend over to pick it up. They should do us all a favor and leave it where it landed. Even if they are her car keys, she should just walk home and spare the rest of us the unnatural view of her cheesy ass. The exercise would obviously do her some good. The only girls who can pull the skirt off are usually 12 years old and at that point the parents should be arrested for tempting the weirdo pedifiles out there. Sick. I am, by no means a fashion guru. I just know what makes my eyes burn and the bile build up in my stomach. I"m sure I've offended some people out there with my comments, but they started it by offending me with their poor taste. C'mon people. Mirrors, although hurtful and cruel at times, can also be your best friend being honest with you as long as you have your eyes open. Try it.

I'm a bitch. I know.

Ewwww, Titan

While things have been busy in our house, one member of our family has unfortunately taken the back seat for a bit. That would be poor Titan. I've really missed him lately and picked things up around the house so he could come sit with me in the living room while I brushed him. He could barely sit still. He was so excited to be in with us, he could hardly contain himself. Eventually, he ended up calming down and was ready for bed. I laid out his new blanket to sleep on my side of the bed. He has to sleep on the floor because there's not enough room for another 120 pounds in or on our bed. He was lying on his bed while I got ready and started watching "Shawn of the Dead." The light was turned of and all you could hear was the TV and Titan breathing heavy, indicating he was wiped out and falling asleep. Suddenly and without warning while I was watching the main character of the movie bash in zombie heads, a horrible odor began to fill the air. God Dammit. The air was thick with Titan ass. It was hard to breath and my eyes began to water. I looked up at the ceiling fan and hoped that it had enough power to dissipate the smell so that the little poo particles would spread through the room and no one would be the wiser of the poison that Titan released. The fan was put on super-high. While I continued to watch the movie with my bed sheets covering my nose, the fan did its work. A few minutes passed and I was able to come out from under the covers and enjoy my movie. Unfortunately, when there is one stink, it is bound to have friends. Aghhhhh. Gross. Dammit Titan! He didn't care, nor did he even know. He slept through the whole thing. Lucky. I don't understand how that works, though. Aren't dogs supposed to have this amazing sense of smell? You'd think it would have rattled his nerves enough to make him open at least one eye to look around the room and hope no one thought it was him. Round two was not good. At one point, I felt like I was trapped in a gas chamber. The fan was no match for the toxin. I waved my white flag in defeat and had to make a decision. If Mike walked in that room, he would've had a fit. It usually smells clean with nice fragrances of various candles. Now it carried the scent of fur, bad breath, oh and dog shit. So I did what needed to be done. I walked him across the hall to sleep with Nick and closed the door. Hey, he was already asleep and didn't know a thing. He likes the company anyway.

My Bed & My Back

Our house has been apart for quite some time now, but has slowly been put back together. Our new bedroom furniture (Mike's mom's) is all set up, polished, and looking wonderful. However, the bedframe called for a King size mattress and all we had was a double. It has been uncomfortable tripping over the metal frame in the middle of the night. Luckily, last night Mike bought a King size mattress. When I got home he had it all set up like a surprise. He bought new linens, pillow, and comforter for the bed. The color is a rich chocolate brown. I jumped on the bed and sunk in it. It is so soft. We were both drooling over how comfortable our new bed was all night. We even went to bed very early.

Well, I woke up this morning and my back and neck hurt. Throughout the night, I had to switch from the big fluffy pillow, to the decorative pillow, to no pillow at all. I'm going to have to get creative in how I'm going to live with this oh so comfortable and yet painful new mattress. Mike already told me if he has to he will lovingly provide me with a beautiful piece of plywood to place under my side of the bed. Unfortunately, carrying the 300 pound mattress back down the stairs is out of the question. I guess I started getting used to the springs stabbing me in my back from the old mattress. If I can't find a comfortable position or better pillow, I am prepared to accept my new piece of plywood.

Heading for Round 2

I am at 12 weeks and counting down the days for my second trimester. Everyone has said that everything just gets easier now. Easier than what? I don't want to toot my own horn or jinx anything, but my first trimester was so easy that half the time I forgot I was pregnant. The times I would remember was usually when the task of moving heavy furniture around the house was at hand. I don't like to lift if I don't have to. I didn't experience any morning sickness. My gag reflex has been pretty strong lately. When I brush my tongue and I hit that little spot in the back, I get that tight feeling in my throat and stomach. My eyes water like crazy and I stare at myself in the mirror waiting to fill the sink. That's it, though. My mom told my that I would probably get constipated, but nope! Perfectly normal and quite comfortable poos. My skin has taken a beating, though. As I have told people, you could probably play connect the dots and discover the Statue of Liberty on my face. Like they said, though, it is getting better. Thank god for Lancome!

Seeing myself in the mirror with my pooch in cute clothes is fun, but naked...not a pretty site. I can only imagine what it will look like down the road. I'm pretty sure when the time is right I will follow my friend's lead (Jen) and get a pregnant professional photo taken. However, it will be in black and white. It's a little more forgiving.

I've had some Debbie Downers actually tell me that I shouldn't be so confident about feeling great during the first trimester because it will get "awful" and I'll end up "hating" it. Who are these people telling me such shitty things? Evie told me from day one, no one can give you much advise on how you'll feel and what to expect because everyone is different and everyone's pregnancy is different. So far, I've loved my experience and I'm glad I get to document it and not bitch too much. Unfortunately, that makes for a somewhat boring blog, but I'm trying. I might just have to tell funny and gross stories about Mike or Titan. I have tons of those. Besides, I can tell many of those because they don't read this. Mike just forgets I have this blog and Titan can't read because he's a dog.

No Thanks, My Plate is Full

How much drama and stress can one put on their plate without it spilling over onto side dishes? Life is insane in the Moody house. They say during pregnancy to limit the amount of stress in your life as much as you can especially in the first trimester. Well, here I am 5 days away from the second trimester and I have peaked on the insanity which is my life. Half the time I can't tell if the hardness in my abdomen is the pregnancy or my tension.

Our house has been taken apart because we recarpeted the main floor and upstairs which meant we had to move the dining table, pool table, all the beds and bedroom furniture, all the clothes in the closets, etc. Aghhhhhh! I can't find my favorite white bra anywhere because it got lost in the shuffle. Perhaps it's just a sign for me to go shopping because it doesn't fit that well right now anyway. I'm kinda "busting" out of the seams (pun intended). On Monday, the carpet guys showed up and were only able to get the old carpet pulled up and lay the new padding down. So, that night Mike and I slept on just a mattress staring practically straight up to watch the TV on the wall. I felt like we were in an apartment. At least once, all of us got poked by the tacks sticking up around the edges of the pad. Yesterday the carpet was finished and the guys neglected to hang the doors back up and covered a couple of our vents with the carpet. Nice.

The house is slowly, but surely coming together again. When it is back to its normal state, I will feel a huge sense of relief. Unfortunately, with everything happening at the Arlington house, we haven't had an opportunity to check on or play at our Wenatchee house. Bummer. It's relaxing over there and we need to get there right away and decompress.

I'm heading to my Grandma's tomorrow so I can get away for a bit. Poor Mike isn't sure if he can handle it, but oh well. I find it a relief to talk to other people about what is going on in their lives so I can have a moment or two to not think of my own trials and tribulations. I'm not a big fan of drama.

I have to apologize for my blog entries being so journally. Once the shit stops hitting the fan, I'll start focusing on the funny and gross things in my life to keep it entertaining.

Idiots and Their Cars

Why is it when you need to get somewhere quickly, someone pulls out in front of you and decides to take their Sunday drive on a Monday morning? That was how my morning started. I am one who likes to go the speed limit and sometimes a little bit over. I was on a road that was 50 mph and the man in front of me decided to take his sweet ass time. By that, I mean 25 Mph. Not only that, it would jump from 25 to 35 and back to 25. Maybe he didn't see the speed limit sign, maybe he was "little" and couldn't reach the pedals, maybe he saw me coming and chose to sneak in front of me and teach me a lesson about patience; whatever it was, it didn't make me very happy. When this does happen, why do I expect that person to be watching me in their rear view mirror the entire time we're driving and understand what I am saying to him either by seeing my hand gestures or reading my lips? He was very busy looking at every cow or horse out in the pastures he passed, where would he find the time to look back and notice my frustrations? I found myself putting my hands up as if to say, "Go!!!!" Sometimes I would rest my head on my and to show boredom with the slow pace. I knew he could've cared less, but something told me I just needed to exert that energy to at least feel like I made some sort of attempt to make him move a little faster. Later, after lunch, I pulled up to a stop sign and a woman was taking a left into where I was. I was well behind the line and she still pulled so close almost hitting me and proceeded to yell at me for being where I was. Of course, I thought this was quite funny. People feel so confident and safe in their little cars, but what if I was psycho enough to throw my car into reverse and chase her to her location? Back in my youth, I was known to do that. I would go as far as driving up on the sidewalk and up a grassy hill to chase down kids that had thrown a rock at my car. I have since calmed down, of course. Although it might seem like my reaction to the slow poke this morning was about as retarded as the old fat lady yelling at me, I don't agree. I didn't deserve her bad behavior, but he did deserve mine. Period.

On another note...My office got broken into over the weekend. If you've ever seen my office, you would wonder why anyone in their right mind would even consider our office. We work out of a double wide, as in a mobile home. We recently had a rat and ant infestation. It is what we like to call the ghetto. It's pretty gross. My computer was still in its place but there was a long cord hanging off my desk. I figured someone was just trying to work on my computer over the weekend. Then as others started filing in, we realized a monitor had been taken, desks had been gone through, a laptop along with its carrying case was stolen and even a phone. It was pretty weird. People had checkbooks in their desks and those were all still there. We have keys to several other buildings and those weren't touched. It looked like they tried to take my computer screen but it was too much of a pain in the ass. However, these clever little thieves did take something of mine. My drawer in my desk is missing two boxes of granola bars, dried apricots, Asian crackers, and some Handi-snacks!!! What the Hell?!! When everyone in the office starts talking about the laptop and computer screen and how awful it is, I make sure that I sneak in and remind them of my crackers and granola bars. How is that not funny? I should ask my co-worker if it's covered under our insurance.

6-6-6

That's all I'm going to say.

My Wardrobe is Slipping Away

I already knew that there were 4 pairs of pants/jeans that I can suddenly no longer wear, but I have added yet another pair. At night, I like to pick out the next day's clothing so I don't get caught standing in my closet staring aimlessly at slacks, skirts, sweaters, blouses, and t-shirts that just tease me with possibilities of cuteness. I tried on today's outfit before I had to run out the door. I pulled in my gut as far as it would go. I had to suck in 3 times to finally get the snap to snap. I let out a sigh and saw my saggy profile. No thank you. The little bulge over my pants would not be able to hide behind any top unless it was a heavy sweater or sweatshirt. Yikes. Not only that, but some of my shirts can't be worn either. What tops used to show just a slight peek-a-boo of midriff now look like I went shopping in the "little girls' department" for a shirt a few sizes too small. My growing boobs pull my shirt up and my belly pushes out between the pant line and bottom of the shirt. Not very cute. I'm having to shuffle my closet around. I'm not spending the money on "new" clothes until I literally can't breath. When I start to notice repeat outfits during the week, I may have to re-address the shopping idea. Crap.

On another note (not about me thank god), I saw a girl at the hospital today that looked about 7-8 months pregnant walking out with her significant other or "baby's daddy". Holy Hell was that a sight that made me shake my head for them both to see. How do I describe her tasteful outfit. She was wearing what seems to be the new cool trend of pajama bottoms out in public (but they have to be 10 sizes too big and you have to be sure to wear slippers or flip-flops). She also wore a lovely tiny black sports bra. How did I know that, you ask? Well that was her top. That, and of course, a tastefully placed oversized Nike sport jacket to cover her exposed shoulders. Her baby's daddy walked with her to the beat of "The Thong Song" with his baseball hat tilted ever so slightly to the right. He used is index finger as a belt by holding his pants up by a single belt loop. Clever. (I just laughed out loud to that. Does that make me a total nerd?) Ah, I bet those two had a long deep conversation about deciding to start a beautiful family together and bring a person into this life that would be a wonderful contribution to society. Am I an asshole for not really believing that that's how it happened? I'm sure I'm going to Hell for that one, but most of you will be there by my side, right?! Good Lord, I can't wait to be that big and just wear whatever I find on the floor that day. It will make the previous paragraph look so stupid for even trying or caring.

Myspace Pervs

I've had a myspace account for approximately 3 months and have never noticed anything weird. I primarily got on it to be reachable for a family member and also as a means to get in touch with people I went to school with. I know I'm almost 30, but I don't think any of you will see me on a Dateline special any time soon. A month ago, the number of times I had been viewed was 8. That's right, 8. I'm not very popular, but I didn't exactly advertise that I was on myspace to anyone. Recently, after receiving a "please let me be on your friend list" request from a complete weirdo/stranger, I chose to try to keep my "myspace" private by changing my age to a younger secure age. That way, only family or friends that know that I'm on it can be invited as a "friend." Well, since changing my age to that of a younger person, my myspace has been viewed over 50 times! Gross. What does that mean? Are there people out there so interested in my site that have to keep checking to see if by some crazy chance I added something more interesting than the day before? Are these the people that get caught on Dateline? Sick pervs. If any of you out there are checking my "myspace", please just send me a message or a request to be a "friend" so that I'm not wondering every time I look at the "Number Of Times Viewed" counter, if someone from the Monroe Reformatory or America's Most Wanted is thinking they're looking at a kid. So ick. That's all for my bantering today. Hopefully, I'll have more next week.