Boo!

Happy Halloween!

Many apologies for not posting earlier (Papa), but when one works a half day, one has to cram 8 hours of work into four. Not to mention all the Halloween festivities and that today we celebrated our controller's 40th birthday with pizza. Priorities, priorities.

Well, we're 4/5 the way through our trick-or-treating rounds with Zozo. I shall not disclose her costume yet, as there is still one more stop to make and I don't want to ruin it. Photographs will be posted soon. Let's just say that so far she's been a hit.

So now I'm blogging from Mama's, which is very weird, as she's standing right behind me, reading as I type. Not used to such an immediate audience.

This is pretty cool...I've blogged from Uncle Milt's computer, Mom and Dad Z's computer, and now Mom's. I'm a multi-location blogger, I am.

Did you know that when you drop a small container of blueberry yogurt out of the fridge, it will explode all over your khaki pants and the fridge? Yes, we know this first-hand now, thanks to M's little experiment this morning. And of course it was the blueberry, which is quite dark and likely to permanently stain. So we were a little late getting out the door, since he had to strip down right there in the kitchen so I could take his pants downstairs to rinse and spot them with Shout. Throw 'em in the wash, set it to cold, and hope for the best. Haven't had a chance to check on them, but he needs new pants anyway, so it won't be horrible if they are indeed ruined.

I borrowed his obnoxious Cardinals shirt and wore it to work today as The Cardinal Fan for Halloween. Lots of other people dressed up, too, and I got pictures, so I'll try to post them when I post Zozo's.

Time to visit with the fam now...I really just wanted to get on to post something so Papa would quit griping that I didn't post today.

Random Remarks

Several observations this fine morning:

1. Swiss Miss Hot Chocolate With Marshmallows does not go with Ricola Natural Cherry Honey Herb Throat Drops, even though they are both "from Switzerland."

2. Anybody can start a "magazine" and sell advertising space in it, as is evidenced by the solicitation I just received for the O'Fallon Family Shopper, that looks like it was designed and put together by a second grader (no offense to second graders...you just haven't had any formal design training). "No thanks, not at this time, no money in the budget, don't call me...I'll call you..."

3. The national media takes a certain glee in deflating one's pride in one's city. A mere three days after being crowned World Series Champs, our fine city has been ranked highest in terms of crime. I hate the media, most days, and today is no exception. My hatred stems from the national media insinuating that my beloved American Red Cross was doing something funny with the money raised after 9/11, when that couldn't have been further from the truth. Makes me real proud to have earned that journalism degree (although it did come from The World's Finest School of Journalism).

4. You always have a wish list a mile long until someone up and asks you, "What do you want for Christmas." Immediately your mind goes blank and all you can think is, "my garlic press is kinda cruddy...maybe a new one of those?"

2006 World Series Champs!

So sweet to type that...so I'll type it again...2006 World Series Champs!!! Wooo hoooooo!

Haven't posted since Friday...for good reason. I've pretty much been a useless blob ever since the Cardinals won the World Series. My cold held out, thank goodness, for the win, so I was able to enjoy every single moment of it. Got some pictures, but I took the lil' Nikon, not the Big Dog, so they're pretty far away and not nearly as good as the ones I'm sure the pro photogs who were down on the field got. M has the cam with him at the celebration right now, so I can't post anything yet.

Many thanks to Aunt Shelly for inviting M and Zozo to the celebration! I'm so glad they could go! M has waited since, well, 1982 for this, and I don't want him to miss a single second. He retired the infamous Cardinals rally band Friday night...you know, the one that he got during the play-offs last year and refused to remove until the Cardinals won the World Series. Thank goodness that's over.

We've also learned that the Z Fam plans to celebrate the Cardinals' victory over Christmas when everyone is in by opening the bottle of champagne left from the '85 World Series. Uncle Marty posted a note on it that says, "Do not open until Denkinger makes the call." Well, buddy, Denkinger has indeed made the call. Congratulations Cardinals and Cardinal fans!

Well, just posting this has about drained my energy for awhile. Who knew that typing could be so strenuous. That, and I'm not feeling particularly witty or humorous right now. Just waitin' for my man and my baby to get home so we can go to the grocery store. Woo hoo.

zzzzzzzz

It's absolutely amazing what a good night's sleep can do for your mental health.

I know I'm going to hear a chorus of groans from everyone when I announce this: I skipped the World Series game last night in favor of getting both my physical house and my mental house in order. Many thanks to Dad Z for filling in and taking my ticket, accompanying M to the game and rooting the Cards on to another victory.

After Zozo went down at eight, I cleaned off the kitchen counter and got our bedroom picked up. It looked like a war zone in there. Or a frat house. Between going to work, coming home and peeling off work clothes to put on 12 layers of Cardinals gear and racing back out again, returning late to fall into bed and doing the same thing the next day, we had clothes everywhere.

Then I climbed into bed and listened to the ballgame as I drifted off to peaceful slumber. The last thing I remember is hearing them go up by a run and thinking, "Oh, shit..."

Woke up today feeling so much better, re-energized and ready to head back downtown tonight to cheer our Cards on to a victory!

In all the hullaballoo over the games and the car and everything else, I forgot to send a very important thank you out to Dad and Judy for watching Zozo Wednesday. You guys were a big help and we appreciate you! Zozo loves spending time with you, too.

Everyone keep praying for Uncle Mark. He's undergoing various treatments and I don't know that they have figured out quite what's going on yet. Dad Z, Grandma and Margaret are driving up there today, so pray for safe voyage for them as well.

Happy Birthday to Joey!!!

Today is my little nephew's birthday. He is five years old.

I can remember the day he was born like it was yesterday. Sitting with my sister while she labored, and then labored some more to forgive the staff who couldn't get her epi right. Running to our house to meet with the gentleman who was going to eventually sell it to us (it wasn't ours then), and then racing back to the hospital that night.

I was never a baby person. Kids were okay, but the older they got the better. Babies, frankly, scared the bejeebers out of me. I didn't want to hold them...what if I dropped them and broke them?

Joey was different, from the beginning. This child touched my heart like no other. I felt comfortable around him, and I like to think he felt comfortable around me. Well, he didn't cry when I held him, and he didn't squirm or grimace when I changed his diapers, so I took that as a sign that he liked me. That was the other thing: his diapers didn't gross me out.

Joey was the first child who gave me the confidence that I could be a mother. I could care for a child, and not drop her on her head and crack her skull open. I could nurture and care and cuddle and love and I could stop focusing on myself and start focusing on someone else. Because of Joey, I have Zoe.

So, to my adorable nephew on his fifth birthday: I love you so much, I always will, and I will always be thankful for the gifts you bring to my life. Congratulations on being five, little buddy!

Three Strikes

Some days you'd just like to forget. Yesterday, my wedding anniversary, is one of them.

From paying $250 to get my car back to sitting in the freezing rain for over two hours to being shorted 2/3 of my dinner order from Taco Bell...it wasn't a good day.

So.

At this point, I am patiently waiting for the World Series to be over so I can resume my normal, relatively uneventful and pleasant life.

I thought baseball was supposed to be fun.

The ZoeMobile is Free!

Well, I've just come back from picking up the ZoeMobile, and it's none the worse for what it's been through.

Aunt Shelly picked me up and drove me first to the ATM at the Schnucks across the street, and then to the hell that is called Barcliff's Towing. Barcliff's Towing consists of a large, fenced gravel lot and a small, gray trailer with a faded sign. I groaned in anticipation, and my angel Shelly said, "I'll go in with you." We were careful to park where she wouldn't get towed.

After I climbed the steps and opened the door, I immediately realized that I'd be going for chemo treatments later in life to combat the lung cancer I was going to get just from standing in this trailer for five minutes. A woman with one arm in a cast flashed her filmy, tobacco-covered teeth in what I took for a smile and I said, "Hi. I need to get my car?" She asked, "What is it?" "It's a '99 Honda Accord..." As I got out my title (proof of ownership) and driver's license (pitcher ID), then stripped off the twenties to pay, Shelly commented to me, "They take cash so it's under the table and they don't have to claim it." Nicotine said, "Oh no, ma'am. We have to claim it all. We gotta turn it in to the po-lice and errything. The ah-RS knows how many cars we take in." She then proceeded to make change for me out of her cigarette case.

No kidding. Who even uses those things anymore? And who uses them as cash drawers? Yeah, I bet that's real IRS-approved.

I asked her, out of sheer morbid curiosity, "So, how many cars did you get off that lot last night?" "Oh, about 12 or 13. There were 25 or 30, but we couldn't get 'em all. Ran outta time." But you managed to get ours. Great. Just our luck. Nicotine and her pals made at least $3,000 off that lot last night, and probably more with the other lots they were called to. Beano has a colleague whose husband tows for a living, and he was running hither and yon last night. It was a good night for the fine City of St. Louis and their towtruck pardners.

Nico made copies of my title and my license, and then waved me out the door and to the side of the building, "Ya'all just go out there and I'll tell 'em to open the gate."

A man who looked like Cooter from "The Dukes of Hazzard" opened the gate and waved me through. There, all alone with autos that looked like they had just completed their fifth demolition derby, sat my little car. Patiently waiting for me to bust it out of the joint. I did a quick perusal and the only thing that looked funky was that my e-brake wasn't on. We always, always, use the e-brake. It's just habit, like putting on our seatbelt. So that was strange to me, and made me wonder how they got into my car to take the brake off. And then there was that weird, surreal feeling that someone else has been in my car, and how it was strange to be getting my car from a place that I hadn't driven it to, nor had ever been before.

And, hopefully, will never go again.

To My Mocholate, On Our Nine Year Anniversary

What can I say about the past years nine
I’ve been yours and you’ve been mine

We’ve had our ups, we’ve had our downs
We even almost moved out of town

From appendicitis and pars planitis,
To infertility and peri-carditis

We’ve taken “in sickness and in health”
Very, very seriously, if nothing else

Changes in houses, and in careers
We’ve weathered it all, so it appears

Our house is sinking and broken, it’s true
But I’ll live anywhere, as long as I’m with you

Our life was grand, we were good to go
And then the greatest gift, the birth of Zozo

We got new titles: “Mom” and “Dad”
Those first sleepless nights, they weren’t so bad

I love our family, our fine little life
I love being a mom, I love being your wife

So no matter what happens, I’ll always be here
To love and support you, my mission is clear

Thank you for all you give as husband, father, son and friend
You are a man without peer, an uncommon blend

When you decorate our house with Christmas lights
Realize that you are my star, shining ever so bright

I love you, Michael, and always will. Happy Ninth Anniversary, my prince!

A cluster of epic proportions

So. Here I am.

With not much good to post, I'm afraid. Except for the Cardinals win last night, which is about the only good thing that happened yesterday. Sorry to put that piece of good news right up front like this...now you have nothing to look forward to.

I learned something new yesterday: trying to work from home while watching a small child is virtually impossible. This is because watching a small child at home is a full-time job in and of itself. Hats off to all the stay-at-home moms out there, and to my mother-in-law who graciously took on this full-time job when she agreed to watch Zozo for us. I appreciate you now even more than I did before, which was quite a lot, actually. I finally gave up trying to keep Zoe amused while pecking away with one finger at an e-mail, and resorted to play time while she was up, and cranking like a mad woman while she was down. By the time we were getting ready to leave for the game I was running way behind, and feeling frazzled to boot.

In the afternoon we learned that Uncle Mark in Cinci isn't doing well at all. Seriously, everyone, he needs major amounts of prayers. Pile 'em on. I'm not gonna try to explain everything because what tidbits of info I have is fourth- or even fifth-hand and I'm sure I'd mutilate it anyway. I'll say this: the docs can't quite figure out what's going on, although they have some theories, but he's getting worse instead of better. The entire family, obviously, has gone to Code Red on the worry scale, and any love and support you can throw their way, for all of them, is much appreciated.

So, with heavy hearts, off we went to the game, to which we were actually early but apparently too late, which meant two things: 1.) no rally towels (I swear they gave out about twelve) and 2.) we got to see the ass-end of the Clydesdales as they departed through the wagon gate. Well, M got to see a bit more, as he runs up the stairs faster than me, but he didn't get to see much. Seriously, the stadium was maybe half full when they brought the hitch out. C'mon already. Little closer to game time, guys? Game finally started and I eventually went to get us food. After standing in line forever, I got up to the cashier and ordered a double cheeseburger for M. "We're out of buns." "You're out of buns? Hamburger buns?" "We're out of buns." "You have got to be kidding me. It's the second inning of a World Series game and you're out of buns?" "We're out of buns. You can try down there." So off I went to stand in my second line.

After an eternity, I finally got up to ol' Marvis, who is about 104 years old and slower than snail shit. "I'd like a double cheeseburger..." to which he turns around and shuffles back to the grill, telling them, "Double cheeseburger." Then he shuffles back and looks at me. "...and chicken tenders..." He turns to shuffle back again, and I belted out, "...and FRIES!" so I could save him a trip. Guess he can't remember more than one thing at a time. So he rings me up, and I'm so worried about balancing a double cheeseburger, chicken tenders, fries and a soda that I don't realize that he's overcharged me by $7.50.

Back at the seat, we figure it out, and I head back to Marvis. After a relatively easy transaction, he hands me $7.50 and that's fixed.

Game continues, we win, blah blah blah. Head back out to the car only to find...no car. "Mike? Where's the car? Where's the car? WHERE'S THE CAR?!!!" in ever-increasing escalation of panic. He points to the giant sign that he missed while pulling in that says, "Cardinal fans! Do not park here! You will be towed!" and says, "It got towed."

I won't bother repeating the stream of expletives that came out of both our mouths at that point. It was good Zozo was home asleep in her crib, or we'd have burned her tiny ears off with the foulness of our language.

Quick call to Aunt Shelly who was at our house watching Zozo (thank you Aunt Shelly!), and she called Uncle Marty (in from Florida for the game), and Aunt Margaret who went with him, and asked them to turn around and come back for us, as we now had no way to get home. Thank you to Uncle Marty and Aunt Margaret for rescuing us from a very seedy streetcorner in downtown St. Louis at 11:30 last night! We owe you big time. M called the tow company and spoke to a gentleman he's guessing is named Vinny, who told him, "After 9 a.m. tomorrow, bring pitcher ID, proof of ownership, and $250 cash." M said, "I feel like we don't even own our own car at this point."

Aunt Shelly, bless her heart, is taking me to get my car over my lunch hour. Uncle Marty told us last night that the traditional gift for a ninth wedding anniversary (which is today, by the way) is leather, and we all agreed that because my car has leather seats, then paying $250 to get my car out of hock counts. M said he just never thought he'd have to pay for those leather seats twice.

So that was yesterday/last night/actually into some of the wee hours of this morning. Not a good day.

But I lied. I do have a happy thing to tack on. Aren't you glad you kept reading?

On the way to the game last night, M handed me his cell phone and asked me to put it in the glove box (where it resides to this minute, by the way, which means his cell phone is also technically in hock). This request was nothing out of the ordinary; he quite frequently stashes his cell phone in the glove box (the thing is huge, and a pain in the arse to cart everywhere). I opened the box to throw it in, and discovered a robin's egg-blue gift bag. That's right, people. My hubby, my rock, my best friend and soul mate, got me a Tiffany's bracelet for our anniversary. This sorta makes up for the fact that he also got my car towed in the same night.

Not much else to report. Tonight we head back downtown for a repeat, hopefully without the bad stuff, of course.

'Tis my family I doth love

Working from home today, which is very, very nice. I have full access to my e-mail and all my files, yet I'm in sweats with a cat on my lap and a baby in her crib. Love it!

Last night was a lovely night of doing not much of anything. Caught up with Steffers on the phone, started reading a new book (having just finished "The Other Boleyn Girl," which was excellent), vegged out with M. It was wonderful, actually, to not do much of anything beyond cleaning up the dinner dishes. The next few days promise to be hectic what with going to the WS games. While I'm very excited about the games, I'm not looking forward to the diminished sleep. Amy gets cranky when she gets tired. By Friday I ought to be a real gem to deal with.

Special thanks to Grammy and GG for watching Zozo for us yesterday! She told us she had a blast and loves spending time with you. She also said next time to count her in on the burgers from Village Bar.

So I'm sitting here working this morning, checkin' e-mail, changing the script and scene set-ups for an infomercial we're shooting for the spa next week, you know, all that spa-ish stuff I love doing, and I get an e-mail from Uncle Jim. My Uncle Jim, from Papa's side of the family, not to be confused with M's Uncle Jim. And the subject is "Family Photo." I scroll down and see this:

Tell me that's not the funniest thing you've ever seen. Now, I can tweak around in Photoshop and polish up images and get 'em all sharp for printing, but I can't do anything near like this. Not only am I in awe of Uncle Jim's Photoshop skills, but now my stomach hurts from laughing so hard.

Game 3 of the World Series tonight...Go Cards!

"It could have been chocolate cake..."

I don't consider myself a sore loser. In fact, I work very hard to be a gracious loser. We can't all win all the time. Losing Game 2 in the World Series is just a blip, really, and not completely overwhelming given that we had won Game 1.

But the stuff on Kenny Rogers' pitching hand just stinks of something bad. And the way it was handled (or not handled) makes it even worse.

I'm disgusted at the thought that someone would stoop to that level to try to gain an advantage. I'm disgusted that Tony didn't make a bigger deal of it and insist that the umps inspect Rogers' hand instead of merely "observing" it. I'm disgusted that the umps didn't take it upon themselves to delve into it. I'm disgusted that what is so obvious to everyone in the free world who had access to Fox Sports last night is not recognized at all by MLB.

"They" say that Rogers' washed his hand after the first inning. And he did. Kinda sorta. Fox Sports showed his hand closely after the first, and while most of the gunk was gone, there was still a shadow of something that remained. Was it enough for him to tweak the ball? Who knows. And now we'll never know because no one bothered to do the right thing last night and really check it out.

How hard would that have been? For an ump to really look it over and determine whether or not it was an illegal substance? Not hard, I think. Of course, this is also the sport that carefully overlooks the illegal use of steroids and other performance enhancers, so I guess I shouldn't be too surprised.

Just sick of being disappointed, really.

Why the Cards will win the World Series

I didn't write this, but I wish I had. It's pretty good.

Why the Cards Will Win The World Series
By: Kevin Hench / FOXSports.com

Yes, it's true the National League has not won a single World Series game in three years.

And, yes, it's also true that the Senior Circuit's representative in this year's World Series barely won half its games during the regular season.

And, yes, the National League champs went 5-10 in interleague play, losing eight straight at one point, including getting swept by the American League champion Tigers. All valid points.

So why are the St. Louis Cardinals going to win the World Series? Because nobody is giving them a chance. Talk about no pressure. (Seems like the last time I heard a team had absolutely no shot in a playoff series this October was when the Tigers squared off against the Yankees.)
When sports talk radio hosts start saying things like the NL champs couldn't beat the best team in Triple A, well, it's time to bring a little sanity back to the discussion.

Here are 10 reasons why the Cardinals will win their first World Series since 1982.

1. Fat Albert
Tweaked hammy or not, the Cardinals are led by the best player in baseball. The Tigers may have a deeper lineup, but Albert Pujols is capable of winning at least one game all by himself.

2. Diamond Jim
The Cardinals lost to the Tigers in the 1968 World Series, when Curt Flood misplayed a fly ball in Game 7. There have been very few center fielders in the history of baseball better than Curt Flood. One of them is Jim Edmonds. He will make one game-saving play in spacious Comerica Park.

3. The Big Red 3
Everyone assumes the Tigers have this insurmountable edge in pitching. But here's a news flash for all the haters: Jose Reyes, Carlos Beltran, Carlos Delgado and David Wright of the vanquished Mets are more dangerous than their counterparts on the Tigers. Chris Carpenter is 51-18 the last three years with a 3.10 ERA. NLCS Most Valuable Player Jeff Suppan is 44-26 over the last three years, but more importantly he has a 2.05 ERA in his last nine starts in September and October. And as for Jeff Weaver, not only does he have a 2.16 ERA in these playoffs, but can you guess where his best start as an Angel was this season? Yup. At Comerica on May 3. Weaver went 7.1 innings, allowing five hits and two runs.

4. Designated Duncan
Usually the National League team gets crushed by the DH rule in AL parks. They have to trot out some bench player while the A.L. champ employs a slugger like David Ortiz. But this year the Cardinals will actually benefit from the designated hitter. Chris Duncan has been riding the pine in the NLCS — though he did deliver a pinch-hit home run — but now the Cards rookie slugger (.293, 22 HRs) and his .952 OPS will give the St. Louis lineup some extra pop in Detroit.

5. The Men in the Pen
While Joel Zumaya, Fernando Rodney, Jamie Walker and Todd Jones have rightly received mountains of praise for their critical role in the Tigers' success, the Cardinals' anonymous relievers have been every bit as good in the postseason. In fact, Adam Wainwright, Josh Kinney, Randy Flores and Tyler Johnson have yet to allow an earned run in their 23 appearances. That's pretty good, right? Anyone who doubts Wainwright's stones as a closer should take another look at that 0-2 curve that froze Beltran to end the NLCS.

6. Karma Cards
Bad luck can't last forever. The Cards got jobbed outright in 1985 by first base ump Don Denkinger. Then they lost Terry Pendleton and Jack Clark to injury before bowing out to the Twins in the 1987 Series. And while they got swept in 2004 by the Red Sox, they lost Game 1 on a home run off the fair pole. The Redbirds are due for a break.

7. Not-So-Jolly Rogers
Despite his incredible postseason run (15 scoreless innings), Kenny Rogers is not Sandy Koufax. The 41-year-old Gambler is due to crap out. And when the guy who entered this postseason with an 8.86 playoff ERA resurfaces, you might want to give him a wide berth.

8. Scott rollin'
The bad news for the Cardinals was that Endy Chavez made one of the greatest clutch defensive plays in baseball history off Scott Rolen, turning a home run into a double play. The bad news for the Tigers is that Rolen looks to have rediscovered his stroke.

9. The Ecks factor
David Eckstein is a gnat that will not stop bothering you. When he gets two strikes, the fun is just beginning. Eckstein will have at least one double-digit pitch at-bat that will end with him on base and a Tiger pitcher demoralized. And won't it be nice to know for sure that at least one player on the World Champions is not allegedly on Human Growth Hormone?

10. Call it runners in Spiezio position
In Scott Spiezio, the Cardinals have the only player in big league history to get 15 hits in his first 21 postseason at bats with runners in scoring position. I don't have to look this up. Ty Cobb, Rogers Hornsby or Babe Ruth. No one else could ever have possibly had 15 knocks in 21 ABs with RISP in the playoffs before. That's a .714 average if you're scoring at home. When the Angels were down 5-0 and facing elimination in Game 6 of the 2002 World Series, Spiezio lifted them off the map against the Giants with his three-run home run off Felix Rodriguez. His timely hitting delivered the Cardinals in Games 2 and 3 of the NLCS. Expect Mr. Clutch to deliver yet another game-winner in the Series. (Scott's dad, Ed Spiezio, hit 1.000 in the 1968 Series, rapping a pinch single in his only at-bat.)

Kevin Hench is a frequent contributor to FOXSports.com.

Three Words

World Series BABY!!! Woooo hooooooo!

(That's more than three words with the woooo hooooo added in, but I don't call woooo hooooo words so much as audible celebratory exclamations.)

(And as long as I've blown the whole three-words thing, I might as well tack on: Way to go Yadi!!! Gotta send the love out to my boy!)

I think it's you-had-to-be-there funny

Stopped at Starbucks this morning...my excuse being that we are out of milk at home and a mocha, being mostly skim, is a great way to get my daily allotment of dairy...and saw something really funny. Not sure if it's ha-ha funny or you-had-to-be-there funny, but I'll post it anyway.

As I'm waiting for my mocha, a guy comes walking toward me holding two of those flimsy cardboard drink holders that usually tips right as you're getting in the car, and they are chock full of drinks (some cold, some hot). I shoot him a grin because I'm thinking, "Man, your colleagues are lucky, and I don't know if you're extra kind or just stupid," and he responds with a sheepish look as he starts to back carefully out the door. That's when I spot his buddy, right behind him, also carrying two flimsy cardboard drink holders chock full of drinks. As they maneuver gingerly out the door, the second guy says to the first, "Let's never do this again!" I had a good laugh watching them plan out setting the drinks down on the floorboard and climbing into the seat around them. "Okay, I'm gonna set this here, then you get in, then I'll hand the next one to you...don't forget the two left on the roof!" It had a touch of sweetness to it because they got into a four-door sedan with shades suction-cupped to the back windows. Before I even saw the car seat strapped in back I thought, "Awwww, he's a daddy!" And I thought of my own baby's daddy, who, without hesitation, would do the same thing for people he likes: go to Starbucks and purchase an insanely large order and juggle it all the way back.

Not much else to report. Cards stunk it up last night. Well, they didn't really stink so much as they didn't play up to their potential, which is worse I think. As the game concluded, I finished reading Buzz Bissinger's "Three Nights in August," which is a baseball book about Tony La Russa's management and told over a three-game series against the Cubs (ptooey!) in late August a couple years ago. Fantastic book. Phenomenal read, even for someone not all cuckoo over baseball like my darling husband. I highly recommend it. Warning: you'll cry during the part about Darryl Kile's death. Heartbreaking.

Congratulations to Beano for getting a perfect score on her book report! Wooo hooooo! You go, girl! It's kinda fun being a nerd, isn't it? Good luck with your interview with a Lutheran. Hope it's nothing like an interview with a vampire. I'm sure it won't be, but as a Catholic, I can always hope.

News...some good, some not

It's a rather dreary day out there...perfect for a forgotten roast. Only, I can't make a forgotten roast because the bottom heating element on the oven broke last week and we've forgotten to fix it. Oh, the irony!

I nailed down my marketing-for-lipodissolve deal with the good doctor yesterday, which means that I will not have to pay to subject myself to excruciating pain...yay! Now that I'm a week and a day out, and no longer in pain, I can easily say, "Oh, it wasn't so bad...yeah, I'll do it again." I've been promised that the first treatment is by far the worst, and that they get better each time (less fat to target, I suppose). The before and after pix I've seen are amazing, so here's hoping that mine will be just as remarkable.

On deadline for several things today, but nothing too nail-biter so it should be a nice day, topped off by watching the Cards kick some Mets booty tonight. I'm kinda dragging from staying up last night to watch the game, so I really hope they clinch it tonight so I don't have to stay up again. And for that whole World Series thing. That too.

M informed me today that if (when) we win the pennant and move on to the World Series, that we could feasibly be winning said WS on our wedding anniversary. Thought it was a good idea all those years ago to plan our wedding date around the annivesary of when we started dating, but now I realize that it was incredibly stupid because it'll always be during WS season AND Christmas Lighting Crunch Time, both of which rank supremely higher than the anniversary of when we joined together in holy matrimony. Two words for you, Husband: sushi dinner.

No updates on Zozo...she's doing just great like she always does. We've started this little routine at night where we get her ready for bed, and then she gets kisses from some of her stuffed animals before she goes down. If Daddy is running the show, she gets one kiss from one animal. He's all about restraint, which is probably why he will never need lipodissolve. If Mommy is on hand, she gets kisses from multiple stuffed animals, apparently because Mommy is all about excess when it comes to good things. Well, it was just Mommy and Zozo last night, so it was a kiss bonanza. Only now Zozo has taken over and she points to the specific stuff animal from whom she wants a kiss. Mind of her own at 13+ months. One of her favorites is Mac the Beanie cardinal. I think it's tied to the playoffs, but it could be entirely coincidental.

In other news, Steffi is still searching for names for her two new cats. She has a list going, and they are so funny that I'm going to post them here:

1. Flotsam & Jetsam
2. Dolly & Llama
3. Bryce & Denali
4. Teton & Ranier
5. Elena & Bonatti
6. Macchu & Pichu

I, of course, had many smart alec things to say about them...we'll see how she responds.

Prayer Request: Please keep M's Uncle Mark in your thoughts. While on a fall folliage sight-seeing trip in Canada, he developed very bad back pain. He and Aunt Chris came back into the U.S. and went to a hospital in New York, where an MRI revealed a herniated disk. However, they are concerned that a herniated disk would not be causing the leg pain he's also feeling, so they're running a bunch more tests. He's now running a fever and they're keeping him sedated, and there are talks of family members going to see him. I'll keep you posted, but please send good vibes and prayers his way and to Aunt Chris and our cousins.

Update on Uncle Cloyd: well, it's obvious prayers work because he got word yesterday that after five chemo treatments all the lymph nodes that tested positive for cancer are now testing negative. He still has seven more treatments to go, but it's nice to know the remainder is just sorta like a safety net. Thanks to everyone for all your thoughts, prayers and kind words.

Meow!

Congratulations to Steffi for the addition of two kitties to her home! Yay! Names are still being decided (the shelter-inflicted names of "Kim" and "Mama Rose" have got to go, we decided). Being that she's a big baseball fan and a huge Cardinals fan, I threw out Albert Purrjols and Yadier Meowlina, but she didn't go for it. Not sure why, really, as those are kick-ass cat names and quite creative. After she got done laughing, she simply said, "No." and then we moved on. Alright then.

Steffi is also a huge fan of our national park system, so she had tentatively chosen "Bryce" and "Zion," after her two favorite parks. She decided Zion was too biblical (my comment, "Yeah, why don't you just name her Job and torment the hell out of her?), but Bryce is quite cool and is probably sticking.

Then she told me how one of the cats is a bargain basement beauty, a clearance kitty so to speak. The shelter was running a special that if you bought one cat, you got a discount on another. Her friend Kimmy suggested Clearance Clarence, which is great, but a bit mouthy. I suggested Bogo, for Buy One Get One. Last I heard Steffi was liking that. Bryce and Bogo. We'll wait and see what she decides. I'm still holding out for Albie Purrjols and Yadi Meowlina.

Plan the work, work the plan

Sometimes things just don't go as planned, no matter how organized you are. In those situations, the only thing you can do is be thankful for what did go right, and for those people who stepped up and helped make the best of the situation.

Thank you to Grammy for pinch-hitting last night, taking one for the team and watching Zozo the night after she got back from vacation so we could go to the ballgame. We so appreciate what you did for us...you have no idea how much! Sounds like you both had a good time, which is wonderful. It's just as important for Zozo to have GrammyTime as it is for Grammy to have ZozoTime. By the way, Grammy, it sure is great to have you back from your trip!

Obviously, whatever the Cardinals planned last night didn't happen, as I'm pretty sure they didn't go out there counting on getting punked 12-5. Despite the poor game, I still had fun hanging out with my hubby and keeping score. Although it's usually better to draw more diamonds in our boxes than in theirs. So, I'm thankful that the rain held off, that it's the middle of a best-of-seven series, and that it's raining today and the game tonight might get rained out which will give our bullpen a much-needed break. I'm also thankful to M for making my night just lovely even though our team got hammered. I had a blast with you, SweetPea...thanks!

Today I came in to messages from my GM about an event over the weekend that I had planned that didn't go well. Grrrrr. Seems that my contact at the fashion show either didn't listen to what I told her, or simply forgot to relate it to her models. So I'm thankful for my kick-ass staff here at the spa that adjusted and made it all happen anyway. And that they did it without calling me in a panic.

Two people I love very much and care about deeply are going through something pretty hard today. I will not elaborate (so don't e-mail me and ask who they are or what's going on), as it's an intensely private and personal situation, but I do ask that you say a little prayer for them and just wish them the best.

Paging Beano

Dilemma: do I attend 1-3 Cardinals play-off games or do I stay at home and spend time with my Doodle? Gut reaction is DoodleTime, because I don't feel like I get to see her enough as it is, because I went to every single play-off game two years ago (it's feeling rather "been-there-done-that" at this point), and because I'm just frikkin' tired. Tired of running here and there, doing this and that, and at the end of the weekend feeling like I didn't really have a weekend.

However, gut reaction is being poked, prodded, pushed and cajoled by familial peer pressure. Both of the spousal variety and otherwise.

Okay, enough dilly-dallying around. I've made up my mind. I'm going Sunday night and that's it. That way I get a game with M, which hopefully will make him happy, and I get my other two nights of DoodleTime.

Oh, that this is the biggest worry I have right now! How cool is that?! The only thing I have to whine about is whether or not to go to Cardinals play-off games! Life must be pretty darn good right now, eh?

The hips are doing much better. No, I do not see an improvement. It hasn't even been a week and they are still swollen. Swollen means larger than normal, which means, of course, that there is no way they can look smaller yet. At least they aren't as tender as they were. I can actually move without grimacing now, which is a vast improvement. They still feel a bit jiggly, though, which is quite disconcerting.

Grammy and Papa come home from their cruise today! Yay! Welcome back! Dying to hear how it went. They don't get back in the Lou until tonight, though, so I have to be patient. Trying to get ahold of Beans to see if she's heard from them, but of course, she's not answering either phone. Dang it, Beano! You're supposed to be accessible to your sister 24/7!

Just tried GG. She's not picking up, either. Hmmmm. Methinks there is a vast family conspiracy. Nahhh, everyone's just busy. Except me, apparently.

Ramblings

Off-kilter with my schedule today, as I was at our Chesterfield location for a staff meeting bright and early. Of course, to compensate for having to go all the way out there, I treated myself to a mocha from Starbucks. Really, I'll use just about any excuse to stop at Starbucks. "It's such a long drive." "I didn't have time to eat breakfast." "The sun is shining." "Oh look, there's a Starbucks over there." I'm a Starbucks junkie, which I'm not ashamed to admit at all, and which I'm sure you all know by now.

Baseball game stunk last night, but I think we can bounce back just fine. Tonight is huge, though. We have to win. I think momentum is a powerful force, and coming back here tied at one game a piece will be much better than coming back here down two games.

You know what's really freaky? It's really freaky when you're watching a baseball game with your husband, and he makes a certain comment when a play is made, and then like two nanoseconds after he says it, the announcer on TV, who is Joe Buck and therefore no slouch when it comes to commentating on baseball, says exactly the same thing as the husband. Like, word for word. It happens all the time, and gives me the willies. It's like when he scans a grocery cart and predicts the cost, with tax, to within six cents. He's like Dustin Hoffman in Rainman or something.

Everyone at home is doing just fine. Zozo is amazing, as usual. We just have so much fun with her. I knew she would add a new dimension to our lives, but it continually amazes me just how much she's added. Outside of finding M, she's the best thing that's ever happened to me. People told me when I was pregnant that there's just no way to describe what being a parent means. That's the truth, so I won't even try.

M seems to be getting over his cold or sinus infection or whatever it was that caused him to blow his nose 900 times a day. He's feeling better, and is raring to go this weekend with working on the Christmas display. Yes, it's that time of year where he scrutinizes the weather forecasts for the weekends and celebrates when good temps and sunny skies are predicted. "Man, I can really crank this weekend!" The boy is just crazy, but that's why I love him.

Not much else going on. Grammy and Papa return in a few days. I can't believe the number of times I've said to myself, "Oh, I'll just give Mom a call..." only to stop and remember that she's out of town. I didn't realize how much I talk to her, or how much I want/need to talk to her. Must be a mother/daughter thing. No, wait, it's a parent/child thing, because I did the same thing to myself when Dad was gone on his Alaskan cruise. It's that whole, you don't realize what you have until it's gone thing. So, in case I don't say it enough, to all my parents, I love you tremendously and I miss you when you're gone.

Okay, time to get back to work. My "smoke break" is done for the time being. Work today promises to be hectic and busy, but good, so I better get back to it.

Zozo rocks

The bad thing about having hips that hurt, is that you start to walk funny to compensate, and before you know it, your back is all out of whack and you're hobbling down the hall at work with your rear sticking out and your knees bowing out and colleagues are laughing at you. Then you come home and just as you're getting over it, and feeling better, you decide to go to the grocery store. Pretty sure all the folks at Shop 'n Save think I'm a total freak now, but I don't mind. Most of them are freaks, too.

Zozo had her PAT evaluation tonight, and she's doing just fine. Our evaluator, Mrs. Kay, sorta decided to throw out the checklist of fine motor skills evaluation. If you go by that, Zoe isn't doing very well. If you go by sheer observation and some other tests that Mrs. Kay had, she's a rock star. We'll go by the latter. She's doing just fine with everything, and we've got some new ideas of things to "play" with her. The PAT program is just fantastic, and I'm so glad it's offered to us and to all parents.

Max is up to his usual clingy self right now. He's standing on me while I type. Cards are on (no score, bottom of the third). We've had our t-ravs appetizer and the pizza is in the oven. Zozo is down for the night, and I can't get through on Beano's line because it's busy.

Okay...it's now an hour or so later. I got through to Beano, we ate dinner, and I got ready for bed. And it's no longer zeros with the game. Dammit. We're losing, two nothing. I'm going to go crash on the couch next to the Hub and see if I can't get a back scratch or something while we're watching.

Mmmmm. Cannoli.

I'm doing better today, although last night was yet another sleepless night. This time, though, I managed to drag M into my misery and cause him to get no sleep as well. Misery loves company is a stupid saying, because I'd have much rather him gotten some sleep if I couldn't.

I no longer feel like a human pincushion, but have progressed to feeling like a giant cannoli because of this stupid compression wrap. I know it's important, and I do feel much better while it's on, but damn. I feel like I'm squirting out of both ends. It does make my tummy appear flat, though, which is never a bad thing.

Not a whole lot of anything else going on. Just work as usual. Waiting for our NLCS games to start, since the first one last night was postponed until tonight. I do have some great shots Beanie took of JoJo on his first field trip...but blogger is having a major brain fart and won't let me post any images. Grrrrrr. I'll try again later.

Tachi and Max: Bonnie and Clyde

Rather a rough night with my lipo'd hips. I wouldn't call them "dissolved" yet, as they are quite gigantic and very jiggly. Even more jiggly than they usually are, which is downright scary. I'd call them wobbly bits ala Bridget Jones, but they are much larger than just bits.

I'm wrapped in my compression thingy again (that was fun to put on myself after my shower), and finally in to work. I slept in a bit, as my night was fitful and interrupted quite a few times by not only the searing pain in my hips but also Max sitting right outside the bedroom door crying as loud as he could. The first time, I got up and locked him in the hall bath. Because of our broken house, quite a few doors do not latch, and so there was really no way to securely lock him in there, but at least he was on the wrong side of the door and would have to spend hours trying to figure out how to open it towards himself. Or so I thought.

Within seconds he was back at our door, yelling and crying. Again, I got up (and getting up directly after you've been lipo'd is not an easy task) and locked him in the bathroom. Bam. He was right back. So I locked him in a third time, then stood down the hall and watched. As soon as I walked away, Tachi walked over and pushed the door open with her paw, thereby letting Max out quickly and easily. Little bitch. They both got locked in then. Took 'em awhile, but they finally got out and Max went back to crying. This time M got up and locked them in. I was pretty sure he had just thrown them both outside because I didn't hear from them again, but at that point I didn't care. Sleep was a necessity. Turns out he just threatened to tie their tails together and withhold food for a day or something like that.

Ahh, the joys of being a pet owner. I'm sorry...a companion guardian.

So anyway, I look relatively normal thanks to the compression wrap, which allows me to still fit into my work pants, and I'm walking okay, so if you didn't know that I had been punctured 120 times yesterday, you'd have no idea that at this very moment, I'm dissolving my fat away.

Hypothetical, of course

Would you think it's fair for a husband who is on a work conference call at night (and we all know that night time is Official Wife Time) to also monopolize the family TV to show a baseball playoff game that involves two teams, neither of which is his actual team? And, to top it off, the volume is turned way down so he can, of course, concentrate on his conference call. The Wife gets glared at when she even thinks about reaching for the remote.

I'm not saying this is happening right now at all. It's just a purely hypothetical situation, about which I'm making an inquiry of my devoted readers.

Tigers are up 5-0 in the bottom of the fourth, two out.

That part isn't hypothetical.

You lasered what?!

As if the lipo dissolve wasn't enough punishment for the day, I went ahead and had my first laser hair removal treatment done. Bikini line, of course.

Let me tell you, they could've cranked that thing up to nuclear level and it would've felt just fine. Minor to moderate pain disappears entirely when compared to the beating my hips felt like they took.

I'm doing much better now, but it hurts to sit or stand for too long, so I'll be retiring early this evening.

Many thanks to Grandma and Grandpa Z for taking care of me and my family tonight. I, and my throbbing hips, appreciate it so much.

So, since there is no Cards game tonight, GO TIGERS (that's for you, Stef), good night, and sweet dreams.

Hippo

I am a human pincushion.

I got my lipo dissolve today. Or, should I say, lipo dissolve got me. Ho-ly cow. They (the good doctor and his nurse) used about 12 syringes on me love handles, and each one was injected about 10 times. You do the math. Essentially, there's a whole lot of holes in my hippies.

It's already starting to swell, which is normal (and good! means it's workin'!), and is all red and poofy. I look sorta like I have welts. Well, that's what I can see. Most of it is covered by a compression wrap.

I felt fine during the treatment, even with them both going at me at once. Both sides at the same time: pow pow pow pow! It means it got over quickly, but was a little weird to experience. It hurts less than a bee sting. No, I take that back. It hurts like about 120 bee stings.

After the treatment I got a bit light headed and was made to lie down in the Oasis Room for awhile. I got me some TLC, a bottle of H2O and a soft blankie and I was just fine. Chris came back in a bit later to check on me and said that it was good that I had color in my face again.

So now I'm just kinda sore, and feel like my hips are about a mile wide, even though to look at me you can't even really tell anything was done yet (thank you compression wrap!). Like I wasn't aware of my wide hips before...now I'm painfully aware of them! They should keep swelling for a couple days, then start to go down. I'm to wear the wrap for three days. No Advil or anti-inflammatories...the process works by inflammation, so I'd be defeating the purpose to take something like that.

All in all, it's not a very pleasant experience, but tolerable, and I won't be averse to doing it again, especially if it works. Should be able to get all four hip treatments done before Beanie's wedding, so that's good.

Wanker

Dinner tonight with Steven from the UK. Britain. England. The lads across the pond. However you want to say it.

Dinner with anyone from the same town as one of the members of Duran Duran is always going to be good, but in Steven's case, it's even better. Because he's Steven, and he's funny as hell.

I actually got to hear him use the term "wanker" to describe someone tonight, and that alone is worth several hours of giggling. I love that, and it's so much better to hear it from an actual Englishman. It loses much in the translation from English to American. Yes, there is a definite difference between English and American. As Steven puts it, we've had quite a few years to f*** up the language, and we've done a fine job of it.

Steven is a good guy, and he's very genuine. You know exactly what you have with him the instant you meet him. I think this is why he and M get along so well. Good guys recognize integrity in other good guys, and they connect.

He had a ton of great stories, as he always does. These mainly revolved around his 50th birthday, which apparently has become quite the year-long celebration. Stories of his best friend from the age of 5, who is now head of police in London or someplace and who was responsible for security for our president, wandering about drunk in Steven's yard at his birthday party. Steven's a bit of an audiophile (okay, he's a HUGE audiophile), so for his party he asked his closest friends to come over and each bring a disc with about 8 songs of his or her own choosing. The disc was to be marked with the songs and the artists, but with no indication of who created it. The night was filled with great music and lots of guessing as to whose mix was whose. Doesn't that sound like a blast? One CD, from his friend Richard, had everything from Metallica to Pavarotti.

We also got to see a few snaps of Steven's birthday trip to Greece, planned by his lovely wife, Kate. We have an open invitation from Steven and Kate to come visit them, and I would love to tack on a couple of days to our Ireland trip and take them up on that offer. He said that sounded like a fine idea ("You're due for a holiday, Mike!" were his exact words). He recommended June over May though, for better weather.

He also promised to take me to see at least part of a cricket match, which is their version of baseball but, according to his description, is actually nothing like baseball.

So, here's to Steven, and cheers to Manchester United...may they kick some Liverpool ass when you go next month! (No offense to Kate, who is apparently a huge Liverpool fan...I just have to go with the only side I've been told, and that's from a Manchester United fan.)

The pic above is from this evening. There's M on the left, obviously, and Jeff, who is M's old Magpowr boss (the good boss, mind you, not the solid-line wanker he was also forced to report to...Jeff also falls in the aforementioned "good guy" category, which means, of course, that we love him) in the middle, and Steven on the right. Not a wanker in the bunch.

Little bit of this, little bit of that

Sometimes, when you least expect it, things just start to fall into place. At those times, it's important to sit back and enjoy it, and be thankful for it, and grateful for those people who helped it all to happen.

A belated happy birthday to cousin Clare! Hope you had a great day, sweetie!

Thank you to bro Steve, with whom I had a great conversation yesterday, sitting at our kitchen counter. Steve is a great person for bouncing ideas off, because he's pretty knowledgable in all things Catholic. I had some issues that I've been carrying around for a long time (I'm a good Catholic, and carry my guilt for ages), and Steve, in one short conversation, helped to clear some of that up. Thanks too, Steve, for your funny stories about Virgil, which made me laugh and realize that other people have to deal with shit just like me.

Feelin' pretty good today, despite a nagging lower back issue. My buddy at work, Chris, taught me a good stretch for it, and that helps quite a bit. Just wondering what my other coworkers think when they walk in my office and find me on the floor on all fours, rocking slowly back and forth (much like Zozo does when she's going to sleep, actually, although her rocking is much faster, and much cuter).

Nothing much else going on, but I do have some nagging deadlines at work and so must get busy cranking those out. Good, slow and steady week ahead of me, which is just lovely as far as I'm concerned.

Dinner out tonight with one of M's old colleagues from across the pond. Haven't seen him in about a year, but he's one of those people with whom you can just pick right up again and have a great time. It's an adults-only dinner, so Zozo will not be attending. I will miss her, but I will not miss having to stop eating my dinner forty times to pick up whatever she's decided to toss on the floor.

Still on a high from the Cards win last night...

GO CARDS!!!!!! waaaahooooo!

What do you do when the Cardinals are playing Game 4 of the NLDS against the San Diego Padres, and you really want them to win, and so you've got WAY too much energy to sit around and just watch? You vacuum the house, mop the floors, do all the laundry (including folding and putting away), change the sheets on the bed, dust the living room and the library, de-fur the couches, clean the litter box, empty the dishwasher, re-load the dishwasher, change burnt-out light bulbs, clean up your bedroom, get the diaper bag ready for the next day...

A clean house AND my Cards are headed to the NLCS in New York. What could be better?

GO CARDS! BEAT THE POND SCUM! WOOOOOO HOOOOOOOOOOOO!

P.S. Carpenter...you rule. Yadi...love ya, dude. Nice play in the fifth.

P.P.S. There is nothing cuter than watching your team douse each other with champagne and celebrate like little boys.

Morphine and Lipo Dissolve...mm mm good

Woooo hoooooo! The Cards are on fire! Sha-zam! Good to know they can pull it out in the post-season after having a crappy regular few weeks of the regular season.

So. Exciting news today. Yours truly has won a lipo dissolve treatment from her spa. Yes, yes. This means that I can kiss my hips good-bye. Or my thighs. Or my stomach. Hmmmm. How will I choose which area?! Well, I'm thinking about the last time I lost weight (thank you Weight Watchers), and how I got the thighs and stomach trimmed down okay, but the hips, well, they're a tenacious duo, and won't go without a fight. Your time has come, hips. Prepare to be dissolved. Resistance is futile.

Actually, I only get one treatment, and I'm not sure how much good that will do, so I have to weigh my options as far as continuing. It's not inexpensive, but I do get my hefty employee discount, so we will see.

We're going to the game tomorrow, and hopefully there will be no game on Sunday (sorry Dad and Judy...I know you have tix for Sunday, but it would be great if we didn't have to play then!). Thank you to Dad and Judy for watching The Zo tomorrow. You guys will have fun!

Grammy and Papa are off on their cruise adventure, and I received a telephone message from GG this morning stating that they called from Atlanta, and both of them forgot their cell phones. So much for checking in on them while they're gone!

Well, we had our staff meeting this morning and I presented, and I didn't get all freaky, so that last little thing must've just been a burp in my presentation circuitry.

Meeting my friend/ex-boss Jimmy for lunch today. We're going to Tom's, which is a great little pub/bar & grill place that has a killer buffalo chicken sandwich. I had many of those when preggers with The Bug, and this'll be my first trip back since I had her. Delicious! Am going that way anyway to drop off a gift basket we're donating to the Our Little Haven Chic Boutique fundraiser.

M's head cold/sinus infection/allergy flare-up (we're still not quite sure what it is, exactly) seems to be waning. He got a good night's sleep (as did I, in the guest bedroom) and seems to be rebounding okay. He's taken himself off the OTC cold meds, as he'd rather suffer the full-blown symptoms than battle the fog of medicine-head. He doesn't do well under the influence of any medicine, come to think of it.

The worst was right before he had his appendix removed this past February. They put him on a morphine drip to ease the pain, and he didn't like it at all. Said that he didn't feel "in control" of himself. I would hate that, control freak that I am, so I totally understand why he felt uncomfortable. The funny part came, though, after he got back from one of his tests. I can't remember what kind of scan they were doing, but they were still ruling out all kinds of other issues before declaring appendicitis. He had been on the morphine for awhile when they wheeled him out the door for the tests. They wheeled him back in after the tests and he looked pretty drugged up. I asked how the test went, and he looked at me (well, in my general direction as he seemed to be having trouble focusing) and said, "Oh, it was fine. I wasn't expecting the enema though." Just like that. Just rolled off his tongue. This cracked me up because I know if he hadn't been all doped up on morphine they'd have had to tie him down and beat him senseless to get anywhere near that area. And he'd have been a raving lunatic after. Ahh, the wonders of morphine.

When Cloyd was on morphine while they were doing all his tests for his cancer diagnosis, he saw a little naked man at the foot of his bed, showing him how to shower.

This tells me that morphine is some powerful shit.
Maybe lipo dissolve is just as powerful. I hope so.

Bon Voyage

Grammy and Papa leave early tomorrow morning to go on a cruise. Grammy, GG and I had our "farewell" lunch today. I think they will have a blast...it sounds like the folks they are going with are a fun crowd.

Cruises are fantastic in that every little detail is taken care of for you. There are lots of entertainment options, and you can pick and choose exactly what you want. Or you can just lay around and be a total bum for seven days.

M and I loved our honeymoon cruise. We went Royal Caribbean on the recommendation of some close friends, and it was fantastic. We saw an officer walking around doing a white glove test at 1 a.m. He was checking the tops of door frames and signs. Now that's detail.

When we first boarded, we noticed that the mats in the bottoms of the elevators had the day of the week on them. We laughed and thought, "How ridiculous." By midweek we'd look at each other, "What day is it?" Then we'd head to the elevators to find out. M was determined to "catch" them changing out the mats, but he never did. At 12:01 a.m. every day, they were changed.

I went to the on-board library every morning to get the one-page fax of the New York Times. Not to read the news, mind you, but because they included the NY Times Crossword puzzle, which, as all good puzzlers know, is the Holy Grail of crossword puzzles. My Papa got me addicted to doing crossword puzzles, and the cryptoquip, and he taught me all the little tools and tricks necessary to solve them. It's not often that I can solve the entire NY Times Crossword puzzle, even on Mondays when they're the easiest (they get progressively harder as the week goes on), but I'll be darned if I didn't solve them all the entire week of the cruise. I think it was because I was relaxed enough to let my brain actually work to its full capacity. It was free enough to do that whole association thing where it can jump from topic to topic and pull random references from thin air because it's not being encumbered by the normal absurdities of life (i.e. "I have to remember to stop and get milk on the way home. Did I put that bill in the mail? Is the oven off? When is the deadline for that project at work? How do I get my cat to quit yowling at 5 a.m. every day? Why do some men feel the need to have trucksticles?")

My Papa's Rules for Solving Crossword Puzzles:
1. You may not use a pencil. Pen only.
2. You must write in all capital letters.
3. You may not check off the clues as you fill in the answers. Only amateurs do that.
4. You cannot peek at the answers. Unless you're almost done and completely stuck. Then you can peek. But just at one, and just to get you going. Until you get stuck again.
5. It's best to find someone else to work the puzzle with, because while they're busy writing in the answer you just gave, you can move on to the next clue. Highly efficient this way. Also highly annoying to the writer, who doesn't get a chance to solve any clues herself because she's too busy writing for her Papa.

So, bon voyage to Grammy and Papa! Enjoy your cruise! Relax and rejuvenate! And remember, if you must get seasick...go aft!

Yawn

Had to use some Black Eyed Peas therapy on the way in to work today to get my blood moving. It's incredibly hard to sleep when your mate sneezes 800 times during the course of the night. Yep, my boy is sick. After getting more and more angry about being woken up over and over again, I realized that yes, I have the power to get sleep for myself. I moved to the guest bedroom and drifted into a peaceful slumber sans sneezing.

A couple hours later, Max decided to stand outside my "new" bedroom door and yowl. "Meeeoooooooow. Meeeeeoooooooow." After 10 minutes of growing more and more agitated, I realized that yes, I have the power to get sleep for myself. I got up and locked his furry butt in the hall bathroom, where he still yowled but was at least mostly muffled.

Zozo and Tachi were quiet all night.

The boys in our house are determined to ensure we get no sleep.

So I'm a little cranky today. Lack of sleep will do that to you. At least I'm not sick. M is plodding through work with the sniffles and a bad case of medicine-head.

Beano's knee gave out last night and she crashed to the ground on Grammy's driveway. She's a bit sore today, and is plodding through work with aches and pains.

I'm just plodding through work feeling a bit tired.

It sure stinks getting old, I'll tell ya.

Customer Service (or lack of)

So my missing ad rep from yesterday showed up today at 10 a.m. I didn't have anything scheduled for that time, so up I went to get her. I mentioned to her, "You know what? I had our meeting scheduled for yesterday..." You know, just to let her know, nicely, that she f'd up. She looked me straight in the eye and said, "No. No. It was for today." Then she shook her head.

So not the way to make a sale. Don't care if I was the one who messed up, telling me I'm the one who messed up is not the way to endear yourself to me.

The proper response would have been, "Oh, you did? I'm so sorry if I missed our appointment. Do you have time to meet right now?"

Just my little sales tip for the day.

S.O.S. (Stuck Outside Starbucks)

I caved today and went to Starbucks. Everything went just fine until I found myself trapped in my car, with my mocha thank goodness, in the parking lot. My Starbucks' lot is very, very cramped, and it's a drive-thru to boot, so you've got parking people (me) trying to jimmy around drive-thru people (them). And you know what happened? Three (THREE) beeyotches saw me trying to get out, and purposely pulled forward so that I couldn't. They didn't get any further in line, and if they'd have just let me out they'd be in the same position in less than a minute, but they were cranky (I'm assuming from not having gotten their coffee yet, and from trying not to participate in the demolition derby conditions of the parking lot with no coffee) and refused.

I finally got out and sped past them (well, okay, I wasn't exactly speeding because there were too many cars and I actually had to gently maneuver my way through the obstacle course...but I went as fast as I dared and therefore can use the verb "sped," which is a cool word anyway ands should be used more, I think) and didn't even give them any, ahem, signals. I was a good girl, which I felt I had to be b/c I'm wearing a spa t-shirt today and didn't want to misrepresent my employer.

One of my pals here at the spa is in nursing school, and so is also currently working at BJ-West. She told me this morning that she had to bathe a blind 81-year-old man yesterday. He just had a total hip replacement, and it was feeling sore, so he chose to stand up to ease some of the pressure. She said, "Okay, since you're standing now, I'm going to go ahead and wash your backside...is that okay?" He replied, "Fine! Just be sure to get my crack!"

Days like these make me ever so glad I'm in marketing.

Aluminum Falcon

Every once in awhile, someone tells you about something that sounds sorta funny, so you go to the Web and check it out, and it turns out it's actually gut-busting hysterical. So, I shall share it with you.

Click here to laugh.

P.S. It's only funny if you like Star Wars. Or if you've seen Star Wars.

Sendin' out the love

I would like to say thank you to Aunt Shelly, who performed her civic duty the past week and a half or so and served as a juror during a gruesome and horrendous trial. We thought about you the whole time, and prayed, and hoped you were doing okay. There are not many people who have the strength to go through something like that, and I have the deepest admiration and respect for you. Welcome home...we love you.

Cardinals won today. (Thank you Albert, Carp, and Ronnie...Ronnie for that phenomenal play with runners in scoring position.)

I have started looking at going to Ireland, which I'm sure is nothing but a dream at this point, but it never hurts to have dreams so I figure what the hell. It appears that the best times of the year to go are the "shoulder seasons," meaning those months right before and right after the "high season," which is summer and very popular with tourists. Basically, we're looking at May or September. I choose May, simply because it comes sooner than September.

So. Lots of people in my life, who I love and care about deeply, are going through some tough times. Some tougher than others. Some the same ol' shit they've been dealing with for awhile. Ya'all know who you are. To you, I just want to say that I love you, and I'm here for you, and I will do whatever I can to help.

A kick in the (vacation) pants

So my ad rep stood me up this morning. That's two stand-ups in less than a week. I'm starting to take it personally.

M and I are deciding that we really must take a vacation. Sometime. Eventually. You see, we haven't been on a vacation trip (that would be a trip out of town where neither of us was working, and that is just for fun, with no engagements or commitments, somewhere we decided to go, not AHTD board members or the TSA organization, etc.) since our honeymoon, almost nine years ago.

We got by with this for quite a few years due to M's trade show/conference trips. He got to go to a whole bunch of great places (San Juan, Montreal, Vancouver, Memphis, New York, Sante Fe, Tucson, etc.) and I got to go with him. He had to attend the conferences during the day, but we had most of our evenings together and usually one or two days on the weekend. I was fine with him conferencing all day, as I'd go off making images on my own, and photography really is a one-person activity. He was fine conferencing all day, because he truly enjoyed it and knew that I'd be okay on my own (except for the time somewhere in the desert outside Tucson when I was ever so thankful he had rented a car with four-wheel drive, having gotten myself stuck in the sand on the shoulder of the road after I skidded to a stop to shoot some cacti).

I'm convinced that photographers do better shooting on their own, seeing as how we photographers usually just wander around in what appears to be an aimless fashion, sometimes making photographs of things that casual bystanders would think are goofy. It would be hard to be the traveling companion of a photographer, I think, because unless you are willing to meander and drift and then bolt in random directions, you would be driven crazy in quite a short time.

Anyway, so we got by with not planning our own vacation for a long time. But now, neither one of us is traveling very much, and the things we're going to require evening commitments that wouldn't be conducive to bringing along your spouse, no matter how much of a trophy husband he is.

So, as a result, we haven't traveled together in quite a while, and not to a place of our choosing since our honeymoon.

That's gotta change.

We were supposed to go on a cruise for our 5th anniversary. We moved to a new home instead. The fam (my dad's side) has been talking about going to Ireland for a long time. Things always pop up, though, and make it not a good time for everyone to go. The spa moved (which was a major undertaking and involved darn near the entire family at the time). Then I got pregnant (yay Zozo!). Now Cloyd is battling cancer.

I'm tired of waiting and thinking, "After this...after that..." We have frequent flyer miles up the wazoo, so the flight would be free (or close to free). Our savings is okay, retirement is all up to speed, and Zozo's college fund is well on its way.

I'm now on a one-wife mission to convince my husband we need to go to Ireland (or somewhere) in the spring. I'm hoping that by putting it in writing, out here, it'll actually spur us along to do something instead of always just talking about it.

Bac~Os Make Every Bite Better!

An ad rep is coming in to see me today, so I don't have much time to type right now. But I must get something posted or several of my readers will let me have an earful!

Nothing much going on.

M made a delectable meal last night out of the strangest ingredients I've ever seen used with salmon: yellow mustard, red wine vinegar, and bacon bits. Not real bacon bits, mind you, but Bac~Os. Like "Bacony Bac~Os make every bite better!" Who does this? Who decides to throw together mustard, vinegar and Bac~Os? My hubby! It was freakin' awesome. I highly recommend it. Don't call him for the recipe, though. He just throws a bunch of stuff together and somehow makes it work. If I tried that, it would taste like feet, I'm sure. And not cute little baby feet like Zozo's (her piggies are delicious, and I would know, since I kiss them every day), but big ol' nasty adult feet that have been crammed in shoes all day. You know what I'm talkin' about.

By the way, I did just google "Bac~Os" to ensure I was spelling it correctly, and that's where I learned that you can't just use a hyphen between the c and the O, but you must use the little squiggly line. Since I'm a big fan of branding, I'll adhere to the Bac~Os brand and use the squiggly. Just didn't want ya'all to think I was being pretentious or anything, suddenly using a squiggly where a hyphen would do.

Have you ever thought you really knew someone and then you catch a glimpse into their life that you never had before, and didn't even know you were missing, and suddenly it strikes you that you really know absolutely nothing at all about this person? Yeah, it's sad when that happens. Trust me.

Somehow I managed to avoid going to Starbucks this morning on the way into work, and I'm kicking myself for it now. A mocha would be delightful at this moment. Hmmmm, how bad would it be to blow off the meeting with the ad rep? "I'm sorry, she's not available to see you right now. She's gone off for a bit..."

Cards - Yay! Rams - Yay!

Cards rock...Rams rock...it's a great time to be a sports fan in The Lou!!!

Well, thanks to Houston doing themselves in (thank you, Atlanta!), we're now the National League Central Division Champs. Again. For, like, the umpteenth time. Let's not botch it again, guys, 'kay? I'm not sure my husband could handle any more post-season sweeps.

Went to the Rams-Lions game yesterday, and sat in the Suburban Journals luxury box. I'm telling you, it's nice to live like the other half sometimes. We had free BEvERages, yummy eats, and awesome seats. And it was a great game...back and forth the whole time, down to a nail-biter at the end. With a big W for us, of course. A wonderful soprano from the Met sang the national anthem, and it was so beautiful it almost drove me to tears, except for the part where an idiotic asshole fan decided to yell, "Mike Martz you suck!" Of course, that was during a pause in the singing, so everyone in the damn dome heard him. Idiot.

I hold no ill feelings for Martz; he's human like the rest of us. His offensive coordination won us a damn Super Bowl, and got us into the playoffs for several years, so have some respect for the man. He helped create The Greatest Show on Turf, and it was a pretty freaking exciting time for football fans in St. Louis, so give it up already. I actually feel a bit sorry for him, because he went from being an offensive coordinator to a head coach and then back to being an offensive coordinator. Having to come back to St. Louis with a demotion is punishment enough for any sins he may have committed against the Rams front office...don't jack up our freakin' national anthem to try to insult him. Really, I think the only thing that "fan" accomplished was having 44,999 people think he's a total jerk.

Many thanks to Grammy for watching Zozo for us yesterday...she had a blast! I'm glad you guys got to go for a walk. She loves walks. And thanks to Beanie for picking up my dress and for spending some time with Zo-Z. And for changing the poopy diaper! Funny how that happened during the short time you were there, huh? Yeah, I think she plans things like that.

Not much else going on. It's the start of another week. Should be a good one...M is home!

Shout-out to Pookie in A2...are you okay or did month-end take you out completely?!