grey

A week after I turned 27 I found my first grey hair. Freakin' grey hair. What is a girl to do? Call a girlfriend and freak out. What girlfriend? One of my faves ... Red Head Jen! She gave me sage advice ... stop freaking out and just pluck those suckers out. Thanks Jen! Done and done!

Since that first fateful discovery, a few more have shown up randomly in the two years that have followed. Yesterday, two weeks after I turned 29, I found yet another grey hair. So not okay. This time I didn't freak out {okay, there was a little freaking out, but not terrible} ... I remembered Jen's advice and was ready to pluck that sucker out. I stood in the mirror for about 5 freakin' minutes attacking that gal. Guess what? No dice. That 1 1/2" long grey hair was not budging. Apparently she likes me and doesn't want to leave. I have a new friend. Maybe I should name her? Maggie the Naggy Grey (Maggie for short)? The name sounds great, the fact I lost this battle to Maggie ... so not great.

Maggie the Naggy Grey - 1

Little wife - 0

hanukkah

Happy 5th Night of Hanukkah, y'all*

If you're wondering what to get the fabulous Jew down the street, look no further. {note: I realize in some neighborhoods and groups of friends there are lots of Jews. That's just not how it works in our world}

Without further ado ... drum roll please ...

THE FREAKIN' MENORAH CORK!

How gosh darn amazing is this thing? One of my Junior League girlfriends {not Jewish herself - but engaged to a Jew} got one as a gift and decided to post its awesomeness on facebook.

Now don't everyone run out, google menorah cork, and purchase one for us. We've already ordered one {and ordered one as a present for hubby's non-Jew best friend who just happens to be dating a jew - smart guy, I know!} If you're just a hankerin' to purchase one you can buy one for my sister who lives in Philly. We were too lazy to order her one because we'd have to do transactions and pay double the shipping fee. Yah, we're all class. We're forcing her to pay $12.95 for her own wine cork menorah. Okay, I'm not a terrible sister ... we did get her Uggs for Hanukkah {which makes us awesome in my book - I bow down to Uggs}.

* I realize I was born and raised in Cali and have lived here almost my whole life - not counting the summer in Chicago - but one of my most favorite girlfriends is from Texas and I kinda picked it up. Gosh y'all is such a great word. I should do a post on y'all ... eegad sidetracked yet again.

clarisonic

Yes, that's right. I got a ridiculously expensive face wash thingy-magigy for my birthday and could not be more excited! Such a dork. After reading (stalking) about them on a number of blogs (Pretty In Pink Megan and My Blonde Reality + others) I convinced my mother to take pity on my adult acne and get me the pink beauty that is the Clarisonic Pro (part of the proceeds from the pink version go to breast cancer research).

I have used it a total of 3 times. Unfortunately there are not instant results (shoot instant results are my absolute fave). But my face does feel amazingly clean after washing (much more so than when I wash normally). I should probably take a before pic and then a few progress pics as I begin my Clarisonic-anti-acne journey. Now I just have to remember to do so. Yeah right. Me and my memory. Not a chance.

thanksgiving

I don't really like Thanksgiving. The food does nothing for me. Turkey especially. I REALLY dislike turkey. Also, I always overeat which makes me feel awful. Please note, I have a very funny tummy that likes to act up when I eat too much food or anything rich, funky, sweet, etc. I don't hate everything involved with turkey-day (see, it's a holiday also known as turkey-day which I already told you I hate). I do enjoy the holiday because it's a big fun family time. Plus, the husband and I have started an awesome bagel, mimosa, and football tradition. But that doesn't have anything to do with 'traditional' Thanksgiving itself. I'm totally rambling.

This year Thanksgiving was turned on its head. By what you ask. By fried freakin' turkey. Amazingly delicious. At hubby's family Thanksgiving a newly acquired family member came and deep fried two turkeys. OMG. Life changing. The hubby and I came back to my family, talked friend turkey up so much that we've convinced my mother to buy a turkey fryer. Next year the husband is going to deep fry turkeys at my family's Thanksgiving. I love finding new traditions!

Oh, and what am I thankful for you ask? My amazingly wonderful husband, of course!

Happy Belated Thanksgiving everyone!

** Please note: Chef Patrick Mould did not fry our turkey. That honor went to Mr. David King

lv

purse issues!

which one should I get?

lv montorgueil

lv batigonelles horizontal

lv neverfull (3 different sizes - I'd do the biggest)

birthday

Happy Birthday to me! Don't worry, I've been sufficiently pampered and loved on by my amazing husband!

fail

I consider myself a pretty gosh darn crafty gal. In fact, I'm known for it in my family and in Junior League. So it came as quite a surprise tonight when I completely failed at a craft. Actually it's more accurate to say that my craft went down in flames! Grrr ...

I was asked to make a prototype of a t-shirt for the JLSJ Fashion Show Steering Committee. Sure, of course. Easy peasy, I'm the craft queen. Not so fast Mrs. Mason.

I am ready to cut up my practice shirt and throw my iron out the window. Iron on t-shirts are hard! And this is my second attempt. I was so frustrated after the first attempt (printing issues and the same ol' iron issues) that I had to put the project aside for two weeks.

Now I just have to break it to the Fashion Show Co-Chairs that I'm not the gal for the job. Good thing we're also ordering the shirts from a screen printer. Though I know there are ladies that would like to have homemade ones. Hopefully those same ladies will thoroughly enjoy making them themselves.

It takes a grown lady to admit that they failed, right? Can you tell that I'm trying to find a bright spot in this gloomy craft night?

special

Monday I made my first visit to a dermatologist in forever, well, since I worked for a dermatologist back in the prehistoric era when my darling husband was merely my *special friend.* I lost touch with the fabulous ladies I worked with and have at times thought of sending them a card telling them that I married my *special friend.* My oh my, how I chewed their ears off about this fabulous yet mysteriously frustrating yet compelling man. I kind of want to tell them that our story did indeed have a happy ending. Oh well, I told it on the blog, that's got to have to do for now.

I went to the derm for two reasons.

1. I needed a full body check.

2. Adult acne

I'll address #1 first. My mother-in-law belatedly announced that she had a melanoma 5-10 years ago, at which point I demanded that darling husband go to the derm (his appointment is on Thursday). I felt that I should also get a full body check just in case (better safe than sorry). This was an incredibly traumatic and stress inducing prospect. I am modest. Incredibly modest. Being naked in front of a derm that I'd just met two seconds before. No thank you. Seriously, I think my husband is the only person I've ever stood in front of completely naked (childhood/babydom does not count). And even that took some time. Modest I tell ya! Anyway, it ended up not being psychologically painful (Could I actually be maturing and mellowing?). And not the point of this post. Actually, neither is #2. But I just need to vent about #2.

Ahhh good old evil #2. Adult acne. I've had some hormonal problems most likely related to multiple birth control trials, errors, and switcharoos. To put it nicely, my face has been freaking out. Which has left me in a state of grumpasaurisness. Not to worry, the derm gave me a light dosage of antibiotics, a new face wash, and two prescriptions for topical acne treatments. Hallelujah. So excited. Bye, bye adult acne.

So why I'm really telling you about this ... I was referred to this derm by a girlfriend who really liked the doc and her PA. However, she also warned me about the quirkiness of her receptionist/admin. I think it was something about how she's a bit much. (Note: I adore this girlfriend but she's a bit serious/mellow. So much so that I try to keep my crazy under control in front of her). Anyway, when I went into the office the receptionist was extra cheery, but not too bad. Either her craziness was in check or my girlfriend has a sensitive crazy meter.

I asked the doc about the Clarisonic because I'd heard great things about it from above girlfriend and from so many fabulous bloggers. The doc said it would be great and I could incorporate it into my new skincare routine for better results. I wasn't ready to plunk down the cash for it (plus I had the Sephora Friends and Family 20% off coupon - sorry I can't figure out how to link to it - email me if you'd like me to pass it along) but the doc conveniently put one up at the front desk just in case. I had to explain to the receptionist that I was just asking about it and not actually purchasing it. I asked her if she had experience with it at which time she replied, "no, but I've heard great things about it. I tend to go overboard on things so they won't allow me to use one." (Meaning, crazy lazy would probably get sores on her face because of over usage). Wow, the crazy that my girlfriend warned me about finally came out.

Not good. When I worked at the derm the PA had to give me super mild products because of overuse (several times I made my face peel badly because of what I'd like to call acne removal eagerness - and would promptly get in trouble). I actually overheard the PA scolding one of the nurses for giving me too strong of a product saying, "you know you can't give that to her, it'll end badly." I am obviously the equivalent of the crazy receptionist lady. Scratch that, I am the lady my girlfriend warned me about. Typical.

rude

Yesterday I went to Cole Haan to attempt to salvage a pair of my hubby's shoes. Don't ask me what he did to them. It's somewhere in the realm of murder. He totally murdered them. Well, almost. I'd say they are on life support. So I took them into Cole Haan to see if they could resuscitate them. The sales girls were fabulous. They were showing me what they were going to do to them and what I'd have to do to them every few weeks (they are in serious bad shape). I was super excited because I could use one of the products to spiff up a Gucci purse that I haven't been using because it needed some TLC that I just didn't know how to give. Plus, I could take great care of my new Cole Haan boots that I got last week (love love love). And finally I can use another product to waterproof everything, including my Uggs (everyone knows how much I adore Uggs). Excited (said in a sing song voice - that's how you know when I'm really truly excited).

So I'm standing at the cash wrap getting all the info when a, I'm assuming miserable, man decided he needed to give me a few pointers. Namely that I shouldn't be taking care of my husband's shoes for him now nor should I do the continual maintenance on them. I should make him learn how to do it himself. When I told the man that my husband a) doesn't have much time (works full time and attend grad school) while b) I'm essentially a housewife who was shopping at 1pm on a Friday while my husband was at work and c) he isn't that detail oriented, he rudely told me not to make excuses (he really said that!). Then he asked me if I was my husband's mother. Um no. To which he replied to himself, "you obviously are, many men want to marry their mother." I curtly told him that I was nothing like his mother (not that I don't love my mother-in-law, we're just nothing alike), gathered my goods, and walked away. I did hear the flabbergasted woman next to me say "good for you" (which I loved). What was that guy's problem?

Sir, please mind your own miserable business. Thank you.

When I told the husband about it he was livid. He hates it when people are mean to me. He's quite protective - only one of the many reasons why I love him and am willing to fix his shoes for him.

eta: Cole Haan is amazing! His shoes, when viewed from 6 inches away, appear new! Amazing results! My husband was thrilled - mostly with me for making it happen :)

spinning = death

That was my facebook status update on Tuesday. Spinning really does equal death in more ways than one. "Adding insult to injury" would also apply.

I took a spinning class at the gym on Tuesday afternoon and wanted to die. I spent the majority of the time staring up at the clock willing the hour to be up. First of all I hadn't worked out in about two weeks (bad me - I did go on dog walks, and had a couple of mellow trips to the gym, but nothing hard core). Second, the spinning instructor (who I've never taken from before) had the worst music playing. Where was the fun pop music to help me escape from my spinning misery? I don't know. But it was replaced by what I can only call old lady music. Awful. When I walked in I was wondering why a woman on a bike behind me had her ipod in a case on her arm. Hmmm curious. Not anymore. In order to make it through that hour that genius woman supplied her own music. Genius I tell you. I'm totally stealing that move! My previous spinning experiences have always been challenged by the music. This week's experience was the worst. Haha spinning instructors, I will outsmart you ... with the help from above mentioned lady.

Now on to the insult and injury.

Injury = it is now Thursday and my legs and toosh region are still hurting. 

That would be fine except:

Insult = after my spinning class I gained 2 lbs.

Unacceptable. I worked my butt off for what? Nothing! Only to gain 2 lbs. That is definitely adding "insult to injury." Grrr to my chubby life, grrr to awful spinning music, and grrr to the injuries and insults I have to endure.

present

The husband and I have really been trying hard to cut down on our spending. So when I announced that I was getting the hubby a present last week he was not so thrilled. Cue husband making a sad face. But then I added that it would be a free present. Cue husband's sneaky happy smile.

What is this present? Yes, a new, FREE, remote control. Complete with metallic bows. Hahaha.

Two weeks or so ago he let it be known that Mr. Mason would require a new remote control for football season. It sounds a little demanding. But let me tell you, we were living quite ghetto-fabulous here in San Jose (I was just too lazy to do anything about it). Multiple important buttons didn't work. These important buttons include necessary football watching buttons. Mr. Mason is quite the football game flipper.

Needless to say, the husband was thrilled! Both with the free price tag and the fabulously perfect gift!

sleep

... or lack thereof. So annoying. Last night I was wide awake at 3:30am. Yup. AM. Gross. If this were a once in a blue moon occurrence, fine. But no. It's quite the regular fun event around these parts - 3 times in the past 3 weeks. Boo! I don't feel that stressed outwardly. Apparently my body is telling me that I'm super stressed. Calm down, body. Calm down. Everything is great here with the Mason family!

see-through

This afternoon, after a trip to the gym (and without me showering and changing), hubby and I walked over to our little Italian Festival on the main street of our neighborhood. After taking time out to giggle at strange looking folks - most notably the lady wearing plastic stripper heals and super short shorts (hello lady, you will be walking up and down a three block stretch) we found him a delicious lunch. Hooray. That would be a lovely and quiet end to this weekend blog posting.

Nope.

It turns out the workout capri pants I was wearing were see-through. Yup. See-through. All through the tush and crotch region. Great.

All I can think about is the fact that stripper-shoe-short-shorts lady and her shirtless boyfriend were probably giggling about my outfit. Effff.

diaper cakes

My life last week. Two words. Diaper cakes (Oh and a third word - golf - but that's a separate hubby related word). Today I helped a girlfriend host a dual baby shower for two Junior League girlfriends. Two of my contributions can be seen above and below. After reading preggie-new mom blogs I'd gotten it in my  head that I too wanted wanted to make a diaper cake. Here was my big chance! Where did I turn? Google (of course). And from there YouTube (totally not of course - the diaper-cake-how-to was my first ever YouTube video). Whatever, I was able to create my first two cakes. I think they turned out pretty darn great, if I do say so myself! Gawd I love crafts! Luckily I get to make a third diaper cake for a college roommie's baby shower this Sunday - think purple and green. Sorry, this post was totally about diaper cakes and not about the fab shower for two amazingly gorgeous mommies-to-be.

attacked

A few nights ago when I came home from my Junior League Fashion Show meeting I was attacked ... by a plant in our front yard. That darn flower bundle you see above attacked my shirt. The shirt happens to be a fab green Ella Moss - one of hubby's faves (sad). Anywho, I was innocently walking by, okay, I was hurrying by. I was home late - the hubby just finished his last summer school class final, and I hadn't seen him all day. I was willing to sacrifice clothes to spend even 30 more seconds with the hubby - priorities people! 

There I was, stuck to the plant standing outside my house laughing hysterically. I was fumbling with the strings on my shirt trying to get them untangled. But as you can see in the above pic, there are tons of stupid spiky things for the strings to wind around. Ahh! Luckily my hubby heard the Prius (somehow, those darn cars are so quiet - maybe the dog alerted him) and came outside when I didn't come into the house in a timely manner. He couldn't get my strings unwound (of course, patience and intricate things are more my forte than his). Sooo, in order to extricate me and restore my honor ... my courageous hubby slayed the plant. All that is left is a headless stem (okay, there are many more stems with flowers, but this is the one that attacked me). Hubby saved me ... my knight in shining armor!

Shirt status report: the shirt is a bit pissed but will probably be able to be salvaged.

addicted

I am completely addicted to Forever 21 and H&M accessories. I can't tell you how many times I've been to one or both of those in the last month. Countless!

And, I just finished a DIY project. A ribbon decorated cork board that now houses my fab cheapie accessories! Loves it! The cork board is on the wall next to my closet and above my craft table/scrapbooking collection in the office/craft room. Did I already say ... loves it? Well I do!

free stuff

What could be better than free stuff? Nothing. Especially when the free stuff is fun and fabulous.

One of my girlfriends is pregnant and in the throes of decorating her baby girl's nursery. Thus her girly office is being disassembled and recycled. Guess the recipient of said stuff, yup, ME! I'm thrilled. I'm getting a fabulously large and girly white desk + a giant PINK wingback chair. Yup, pink. Pink, the color that just so happens to be my most favorite color in the whole entire world. Hubby can't say no, it's free! Plus, he stopped using the room this stuff is taking over (he uses the dining room table as his "executive desk"). 

I've been meaning to decorate our craft room/office for months. The plan had been to create a bright pink/grass green color scheme. I didn't get far. I have a green rug, a pink picture frame, one piece each of green & pink art, and a bunch of stuff waiting to be revamped. Now that I'm getting my new stuff I have found a load of redecorating energy! I'm sooo thrilled.

Today I went to Home Depot for some spray paint (I found bright pink and a light pink which will coordinate with the wingback chair). Frames are already in progress! I don't know when I'll be able to get my pack mule hubby (and probably one of his friends - this desk is huge) over to my girlfriend's house to pick up my stuff - hopefully soon! I'm so excited. I will post pics once parts of the room are finished. 

I can't contain my pink glee!

overwhelmed

Yesterday I went to Forever 21 for maybe the second time in my life. The first time I rushed in trying to find a cheapo version of a super expensive Nordstrom hair flower clippy thing (for a wedding that same night - ay yai yai can you say last minute?). I had success that day. Since then I've oggled several of my girlfriends' outfits only to find out that key pieces were purchased ridiculously cheap from Forever 21.

I want ridiculously cheap and fab clothes too, darn it! I finally made the move. Mistake. Big mistake. I walked in and saw the largest selection of clothes I've ever seen. Holy gawd there were lots of options. I finally gave up on the clothes and went to the accessories to focus all of my fashion energy. Success! I came home with two bracelets, a necklace, and a pair of earrings. After consulting my closet I now want to go back and get another pair of earrings! So fun. A new addiction has begun! (accessories only, clothes are too overwhelming!)

really bad hair

I'm so glad I waited two weeks to write this. Otherwise there would be many curse words, lots of whining, and probably a lot of high pitched shrieking (if you could hear me in real life).

Now that it's been a couple of weeks, and one of the problems has been fixed, I now feel like I am strong enough to discuss the situation.

This was me on June 19th. Look at that gorgeous long brown hair.

This is me on July 1st. 

I asked for a little bit of the length to be removed so that my curl wouldn't fall out as easily. I also asked for glamorous big hair. I wound up with this short cut (6 plus inches off) and this funky color (maroon with a distinct pink tint in the sun). Gawd awful.

I now have a normal brown hair color - with minor glimpses of maroon in the sun. Hey, better is better. Unfortunately she couldn't fix the length. Oh well. It'll grow. In the meantime I've been too chicken to "do" my hair curly. Sad, considering it's been my recent go to glam-do. What do they say? Time heals all wounds. Time will definitely heal my hair wounds.

crime of fashion

i recently started volunteering at a health clinic reading to children while they wait in the pediatric waiting room.

this is what i have to wear. it's gawd awful. 

i don't know if there is anything i could possibly wear that would make me feel more dumpy.

feel bad for me.

i'm doing it for the children (i just have to keep telling myself that)

p.s. wait for the next post ... i've had a traumatic week.

ouch

on friday i burned my forehead with the curling iron

effffffff

knowing me, i'll have a large scar - even with my egyptian magic usage

awesome

happy father's day, husband

my hubby is the father of our dog.

i wished him a happy father's day (several times) and then told him he should pick our lunch & dinner spots because it was his day. he wasn't amused (but he did pick the restaurants).

acv

acv = apple cider vinegar

Yesterday afternoon, as I was scanning blogs, I read a glowing review of the benefits of the daily consumption of acv.  You take one tablespoon of acv with 8 oz of water first thing in the morning and right before bed.  Or, someone else said take 2 teaspoons of acv prior to every meal.  Okay, that one's just not happening ... but, the first scenario MAY be possible.

This afternoon I rushed out to purchase a bottle of my very own.  Tonight, before bed - okay, 20 minutes ago (I've since needed to decompress post drink) - I tried one tablespoon with 8 oz of water.  Oh gawd, it was awful.  A.W.F.U.L.  I will persevere.  I will drink it tomorrow morning.  I am going to give this a shot.

I'll let you know how it goes.

update

My husband keeps asking if I've posted the sad girl (actually he refers to her as d*ck girl) pic on the blog ... um, not till right now.  You can see where I've shared the Mason discussion of this pic here.

Without further ado ... the sad girl (please note hair similarity) ...

I continue to contend that this is merely a pic of a sad girl.  My hubby firmly believes that it's a pic of an unhappy girl with a d*ck in her mouth.  I decided to take a very scientifically accurate poll and emailed Redhead Jen to get her opinion.  Usually she and I are on the same page ... usually.  Unfortunately she had to get her hubby involved who totally tilted the results of this scientific poll.

The final tally:

Little wife: sad girl

Little wife's hubby: d*ck girl

Redhead Jen: undecided ... leaning toward d*ck girl (traitor??? perhaps)

Redhead Jen's hubby: d*ck girl

Mathematically, d*ck girl wins ... but since this is my blog ... I WIN (of course).

Does anyone dispute my findings?  Little Wife Husband and Redhead Jen Husband need not apply.

good wife

On Monday night I made hubby his favorite "wife food" ... blue cheese mini pizzas. I happen to think they're disgusting but the husband can't seem to get enough (I hate hate hate blue cheese). The little wife won't go near them (phew saved a gillion calories) and the husband is happy. Win-win!

I'm also a good wife because I went free shopping on Monday. Aunt Amanda (my sister) came over and we went shopping on M&J (my parents). I got adorable new stuff for free! I was thrilled with my new clothes and my hubby was thrilled with the fact that our bank account balance didn't decrease. Again, win-win!

The good/little wife had an awesome Memorial Day :)

chubbbbbb

Alright, I'm putting this out into the blog world ... I'm rededicating myself to eating well (Weight Watchers) and working out.  Grrrr the chubb is back.  I've gained 10 lbs since last summer.  Boo!  I need to figure out some way to continually hold myself accountable on the blog (I need all the help I can get).  Hmmm time for blogging research.  Until then I can report in that I ate healthy and exercised yesterday.  Woo hoo! Day 1 success!

baby

The little wife with her nephew ... September 2007

Our good friends the Tacketts are having their baby today.  I'm so excited!  I can't wait to meet their babe AND see what sex it is.  I'm not so good at this waiting thing.  Trust me people, I will be finding out the sex of baby Mason.  Holy moly I think I'm getting baby crazy.  Hubby has been there for a while.  And now the little wife is there.  Weird.

ditz

Tonight I showed up for a Junior League meeting 15 minutes late.  Let me rephrase that ... I thought I was showing up to the meeting 15 minutes late.  In reality I showed up to the meeting 23 hours and 45 minutes early.  Oy vey, what an idiot. 

** Note: my mother-in-law is in the hospital ... I'm a little out of sorts.  I've had conversations with one of hubby's aunts about the ditzy things we've done while under family-medical-stress. 

hair

This is how my hair looks when I do it.  The problem is I don't do it - EVER.  What is wrong with me?  I love it when I actually do it.  Why am I so hair lazy?

Seriously, I did my hair last night and my mood instantly turned around.  I felt glamorous ... ready for a night out.  Too bad my hubby was in class.  Otherwise I would have made him meet me for a drink (beer for him ... nonalcoholic whatever for me).  The night shouldn't have ended ... not with my hair looking so great!

tears

I was called to do my civic duty and was asked to report for jury duty in downtown San Jose this morning.  Great.  Don't get me wrong, I have plenty of time.  Plus, I adore crime novels so I figure I must be kinda into the way the US justice system works, right?  Not this week thank you you very much!

As stated in the previous post, my mother-in-law is in the hospital.  David and I have plans to go to Southern California to visit her tomorrow.  I was just going to think positively ... I was not going to get on a jury.

The morning started out well.  And by well I mean uneventful.  Our group was not called.  In fact, we were even let go for an early two hour lunch.  Woo hoo!  I don't know if I've ever had a two hour lunch. (Oh yes I have ... when Redhead Jen came and visited me at work in Menlo Park ... we definitely took a two hour lunch ... I digress).  After lunch I go back to the courthouse and am very optimistic that I can just ride out my jury service in the jury holding tank/waiting room.   Ummmm no!

At approximately 2:45 they summon us to a random courtroom on the 4th floor.  Oh crap.  We file into the gallery of courtroom 301?? and are greeted by the stares of a judge, jury, prosecutor, defense attorney, defendant, sheriff's deputy, and two random court ladies.  Um folks, this is real.  I seriously got goose bumps.  Hello, I already mentioned that I love crime/spy/fabulous novels ... I was now in the midst of it.  The judge proceeds to tell us that they need to find two alternate jurors for a criminal trial.  Hello criminal trial - so fun!  No, I need to go to LA tomorrow!  I can't be at the courthouse tomorrow!  After explaining the charges against the defendant (crazy!!!) the judge says he'll hear hardship arguments from the potential jurors (that's us).  Okay little wife, you can do this.

After waiting in line with nearly every other potential juror in my pool (apparently no one believes in civic duty) it was my time to shine.  They brought us one by one into the courtroom.  We stood behind a podium, smack dab in the middle of the room, directly facing the judge.  The prosecutor, defense attorney, defendant, sheriff's deputy, and random court ladies were all staring at me.  I say, "I need to go down to Southern California with my husband tomorrow."  To which the judge replies, "Oh, are you going on vacation?"  And then ... I CRIED! 

I got about four words out between sobs.  Mother-in-law ... hospital ... brain tumor ... last night.  Okay, that's six words.  More tears.  The sheriff's deputy handed me a tissue.  Apparently I looked quite pathetic.  

I was dismissed.  I walked out of the courthouse with my head held high ... crying all the way.  Then I cried all the way home.  Awesome.  I'm going to get another jury summons in November.  Whatever.  At least I'll get to go down and see my mother-in-law tomorrow.

**Note:  I am okay with the fact that I'm turning into my mother.  I don't know how I feel about the fact that I may also be turning into my sister.

sucks

my mother-in-law is in the hospital.

this sucks.

artistic differences

I was looking for a pic of a sad looking woman to add to my previous post. I thought I found "the perfect one". It's a drawing of a curly haired woman with lots of frizz (me) with one dramatic tear down her cheek (me when my husband is out of town). I ask the hubby a question about copyright (cause I'm so new to this blog business) to which he so unhelpfully and without confidence replies "sure" ... and then he proceeds to look over at he laptop. It is at that point that he kind of raises his voice and asks "is that a d*ck in her mouth?" And I, with my voice getting super high pitched, say "no, it's her neck!" Then we proceed to have a discussion (while both of us are laughing) about whether or not it's a d*ck or her neck. We both have to point to the drawing numerous times to try and illustrate our point. I really believe that it's a plain old sad girl. The hubby does not back down and is convinced that it's a dirty picture. He can't see where her neck is. And now I'm only able to see a d*ck. The picture is ruined. It can't go on the blog. (Also, the hubby keeps repeating that the pic can't go on the blog - so it's not just my choice) To make matters worse (and to back up the hubby's claim) there is a comment on the pic's original blog asking if the girl is being molested. (d*ck in her mouth plus tear equals molestation). I guess the all knowing hubby is probably right. I hate it when that happens.

husbandsick

My hubby was gone this weekend on a bachelor party cruise. I refrained from blogging because I knew it would come off as whiny and pathetic. Now he's home, I'm happy, and I can talk about the tragedy that is "us" being apart. We don't do well apart. I missed him the second he left the car at the airport. Seriously, my eyes welled up with tears. Luckily I had the dog to give me comfort (he came to the airport with us - it's a family affair).

The hubby called on Saturday to tell me he missed me so incredibly much (how good is he??). I, of course, probably missed him more but didn't want to say it because I would have burst into tears and I was with Redhead Jen (embarrassing!). Instead all I could blurt out was "I have so much to tell you" to which he asked "anything important?" And I had to admit "um, no!" Of course not, do I ever have anything important to say? Yes. But no. One of my favorite parts of my day is rattling off (in an overly dramatic manner) each and every mundane detail of my day to my sweet husband. Him being gone, physically, and also unreachable by phone was ruining my mojo. I need the hubby!

I slept horribly each and every night he was gone. It could be a coincidence. Nah! He came home on Sunday. I slept amazingly well. 

I'm back to being such a happy little wife!

** Note: there is no picture for this post because I had some artistic differences with my hubby. Please see next post.

little wife?

nothing about me is little. nothing.

not my boobs, butt, hair, body, height (okay, that's average). nothing.

but for some reason my hubby calls me little wife.

i love it.