So a woman walks into a house.....

I will tell you a short story about a woman and her husband.

Its Thanksgiving Day, as this woman and her husband depart for festivities at a family friends home that she hadn't been to in a while. The woman loves to bake and has made sure to pack her customary Pumpkin Pie.

They park their car, they make their way into the home.

Hello here, Hello there....lots of people they didn't recognize....I'll just go into the kitchen and put my pie down and prepare it for serving later on thinks the woman....say hello to more people in the kitchen...say how she loves what they've done with the place....

The husband is in the living room making friends, introducing himself as Baker Woman's husband....he notices that his sister in law and their family is not in attendance yet. The husband mentions to someone that he is SISTER in Law's brother in Law (are you following me?).

Looks of confusion happen.

Them: "(Insert Sister In Laws Name)???"

Them again: "Whose house are you going to?"

The husband: "(Insert Thanksgiving Hosts' Name)?"

Them: (giggle.giggle) "They live NEXT DOOR!"

The husband calls to his wife in the kitchen: "Honey...we are at the wrong house!"

Baker's Wife realizes their mistake...packs up her pie, wishes them all a good Thanksgiving and leaves.

**************

This is a true story.

The people...are my parents.

Yes. My mother and Stepfather.

Sigh.

I would have given a zillion bucks to be at our family friends house when they walked in and heard the story then.

The neighbors were actually good friends of the house my parents were going to so they were very nice about them coming in and making themselves at home.

I cried hearing about it from my favorite family gossip (aka...my sister cousin from another mother) the next day...and again when repeating it to my husband...and again just typing this story.

And if my two REAL sisters would pick up the phone so I can continue our little coconut wireless gossip line I will probably pee my pants.

And how was YOUR Thanksgiving?

*************

Oh and a special shout out to my husband as he celebrates another year of life on this planet. 34 baby. Now I'm not the old lady anymore....well I'm YOUR old lady...you know what I mean.

Heart You.

Knock Knock...Paranoia here...(again)

Okay...so for some reason I posted this Monday but it didn't 'show' up in anyone's reader and as I need gratification from you all I 'reposted' a repost...I'm pathetic...I know.

*************

I originally posted this a year ago....when only family members read this blog. (tear, now I can barely get them to remember my blog title....oh, the horror)

And as I don't have any creativity to breathe new life into a post...I thought I'd pull one from the back of the blog bookcase.

Bloggy people...Meet Me, Me meet bloggy people.

Enjoy.
**********************

"The Scream" artwork by Hugh MacLeod

One of my most UN-favorite character flaws is that I am secretly (I guess not so secret now) paranoid of everything.

Some see it as being over protective.

Some say it's not being educated properly about the subject.

Others tell me I'm an OVER worrier.

And some tell me to pull my big girl panties on and snap out of it.

No, I'm serious. I'm a closet Paranoidee...is that a word?

I think since I've become a mother, my Paranoid spidey senses have picked it up a notch to a higher level of insaneness.

I can't stand it sometimes but the feeling sneaks up and I can't shake it until I get to my final destination/or completion of what I'm doing.

My kid was born and I realized for the first time in my life it's not just about me. In fact, it's mostly all about her. And it freaked me out.

My greatest fear is not being around for her because of a mistake of either my doing or someone moron who's being ridiculously reckless. Not the dying part, the part of her not having a mother does a number on my insides. (OK, well a little about the dying part).

I dive into that fear pretty deep and it's hard to swim out sometimes.

When we left the hospital with her, I remember annoying the bee-jeezus out of my husband. First her car seat straps were on too tight, than too loose, I don't think the seat is secure enough, than the car that was on the level below us was coming too fast (like, faster than the snail too fast!), than why don't we just take the long, NON highway home route?, OK OK, I'll shut up. Or more like we both just stopped answering each other.

That's when it began. I was a little too literal when my pediatrician told me to be careful the first month in taking baby out. I mean I walked with her and the dog around our townhouse complex.......until I slipped one day and convinced myself I made her lose some brain cells, despite the doctors stamp of approval (???) that she was fine along with the nurse and the other nurse and the other doctors partner.

I'm a very slow driver.

I think cars drive to fast, I think my husband drives too fast, everyone on the freeway feels like they are first time drivers that just got out of NASCAR. Don't they all realize I carry precious cargo? Does it not phase them?

I'm the paranoid delusional that thinks the red car in the far left lane 10 cars behind is driving 4 miles OVER the speed limit and will cause a 15 car pile up involving myself.

IT NEVER STOPS!!!

This is my life inside. I don't share it with others because they'll think I need to put on a jacket or something with mental restraints. I constantly have arguments with myself. There's the laid back me and the freaked out version of me trying to rationalize why each other is right.

Like the time I told myself I could do the ocean.

I can't, maybe my toes are okay, maybe if it's a good day I'll go to my waist, wait...was that a shadow in the water...do sharks come this close to shore? I start to go through the Rolodex of clippings in my memory newspaper and pull out random shark sightings and convince myself it's from that morning I'm suuuurrreee they are still here. I will be that stupid lady swimming alone in the water not hearing the lifeguard scream to get out.

I mean, did you watch Shark Week on Discovery Channel??? Duh!

Whew, this has been somewhat therapeutic for me....a little flake has been chipped off this statue of fear. Maybe I'll stop now before some that know me start dialing the 1-800-Help-my-friend line.

**************

Sigh...it's rough being a paranoid me.

***I ran across this mans blog with his artwork and really enjoyed it. I liked that he said he was cool with allowing others to download his work as it was a great way for others to see what he does. Some will like it, some will say WHAT?, but if you do, hope you check out his site. www.gapingvoid.com.***

knock, knock. Who's there....Paranoia here! (Yes, this is a repeat...don't hate)

I originally posted this a year ago....when only family members read this blog. (tear, now I can barely get them to remember my blog title....oh, the horror)

And as I don't have any creativity to breathe new life into a post...I thought I'd pull one from the back of the blog bookcase.

Bloggy people...Meet Me, Me meet bloggy people.

Enjoy.
**********************

"The Scream" artwork by Hugh MacLeod

One of my most UN-favorite character flaws is that I am secretly (I guess not so secret now) paranoid of everything.

Some see it as being over protective.

Some say it's not being educated properly about the subject.

Others tell me I'm an OVER worrier.

And some tell me to pull my big girl panties on and snap out of it.

No, I'm serious. I'm a closet Paranoidee...is that a word?

I think since I've become a mother, my Paranoid spidey senses have picked it up a notch to a higher level of insaneness.

I can't stand it sometimes but the feeling sneaks up and I can't shake it until I get to my final destination/or completion of what I'm doing.

My kid was born and I realized for the first time in my life it's not just about me. In fact, it's mostly all about her. And it freaked me out.

My greatest fear is not being around for her because of a mistake of either my doing or someone moron who's being ridiculously reckless. Not the dying part, the part of her not having a mother does a number on my insides. (OK, well a little about the dying part).

I dive into that fear pretty deep and it's hard to swim out sometimes.

When we left the hospital with her, I remember annoying the bee-jeezus out of my husband. First her car seat straps were on too tight, than too loose, I don't think the seat is secure enough, than the car that was on the level below us was coming too fast (like, faster than the snail too fast!), than why don't we just take the long, NON highway home route?, OK OK, I'll shut up. Or more like we both just stopped answering each other.

That's when it began. I was a little too literal when my pediatrician told me to be careful the first month in taking baby out. I mean I walked with her and the dog around our townhouse complex.......until I slipped one day and convinced myself I made her lose some brain cells, despite the doctors stamp of approval (???) that she was fine along with the nurse and the other nurse and the other doctors partner.

I'm a very slow driver.

I think cars drive to fast, I think my husband drives too fast, everyone on the freeway feels like they are first time drivers that just got out of NASCAR. Don't they all realize I carry precious cargo? Does it not phase them?

I'm the paranoid delusional that thinks the red car in the far left lane 10 cars behind is driving 4 miles OVER the speed limit and will cause a 15 car pile up involving myself.

IT NEVER STOPS!!!

This is my life inside. I don't share it with others because they'll think I need to put on a jacket or something with mental restraints. I constantly have arguments with myself. There's the laid back me and the freaked out version of me trying to rationalize why each other is right.

Like the time I told myself I could do the ocean.

I can't, maybe my toes are okay, maybe if it's a good day I'll go to my waist, wait...was that a shadow in the water...do sharks come this close to shore? I start to go through the Rolodex of clippings in my memory newspaper and pull out random shark sightings and convince myself it's from that morning I'm suuuurrreee they are still here. I will be that stupid lady swimming alone in the water not hearing the lifeguard scream to get out.

I mean, did you watch Shark Week on Discovery Channel??? Duh!

Whew, this has been somewhat therapeutic for me....a little flake has been chipped off this statue of fear. Maybe I'll stop now before some that know me start dialing the 1-800-Help-my-friend line.

**************

Sigh...it's rough being a paranoid me.

***I ran across this mans blog with his artwork and really enjoyed it. I liked that he said he was cool with allowing others to download his work as it was a great way for others to see what he does. Some will like it, some will say WHAT?, but if you do, hope you check out his site. www.gapingvoid.com.***

I swear I don't make this stuff up...

Some of you know I run a restaurant in Waikiki.

Sometimes, this brings forth interesting tales that make it to this blog.

This is one of them.

I cannot tell you how many times I've had to pick up the work phone to listen to some person who I think is a potential guest turn into crazy #1234 of the year that I get to encounter.

One particular lady has been dialing our number and insisting she was a Sargent for the police (of loony land), and that the FBI raided our restaurant the night before but she had been interviewed in a dark room with a spotlight and told them that all was right with the world...with our place. She was insanely and crazily believable...if you were not the owner of a sound mind in tact.

WHATEVER.

Well, tonight...I had the PLEASURE of meeting her. While talking with my host staff outside, she decided to grace us with her presence. She looked normal....until she opened her mouth.

This is exactly how our conversation went.

Crazy lady: Did the FBI show up last night? I'm Sargent Whocares and you probably know who I am...I'm very important...I know all the right people.

Me (brain clicking...thinking NO WAY it's Crazy FBI lady in the flesh): I didn't work last night.

Crazy lady: They told me I could get my free meal.

Me: Oh, well that was yesterday.

Crazy lady: Yesterday? You sure? Didn't they tell you about me?

Me: Maybe you missed the memo?

Crazy lady: But you know about the FBI right? They still inside?

Me: Nope. They left, top secret stuff, I guess.

Crazy lady sighs, nods her head at me like she knows what kind of top secret mission is going on without her and takes off with another crazy person who also looks really normal.

~~~~~~~

Sigh.

It's fun pretending to be crazy with real crazy people.

When I mean fun, I don't mean MEAN fun...just playing along with the fantasy that they believe.

No harm, no foul.

Just another night at the Ramblers place of work.

Love Life....

IPhone App picture from my Boyphone...

I will love life in the following ways this week...

1. I will enjoy my new found little moments of 'alone' time as my child is in preschool.

2. I will sit on my couch and watch an entire show without being interrupted in the DAYTIME.

3. I will take a shower for a really long time and maybe shampoo my hair twice? Maybe three times...who knows...but it can be as many times as I want.

4. My long lost flatiron that turns my hair from crazy curly to sleeky straight will find my hands its company as we make magic.....to my hair. Just in case, cause that almost didn't sound right.

5. I will take a nap! When I feel like it. Or until I have to get ready for work. Whichever comes first.

6. Sigh. I will...love life.

How will you LOVE LIFE this week bloggy pals?

Do tell.


*************

Alright, alright....so did I? Or didn't I freak out like a crazy emotional wreck of a train on my kid's first day of preschool?

So yeah, here's the deal....I was a tad roller coaster-y of feelings when we pulled into the school parking lot.

And maybe I stopped talking in the middle of my sentence to the teacher when I thought my tear ducts where going to spew forward completely ridiculous tears in front of 9 other children who were excited to welcome my daughter into their new gang of little people.

And maybe I just smiled and waved and walked out quickly to the car....with my shades on.

And maybe I sniffled at Starbucks right next door to the school (BONUS).

But...I let em wail once I hit the open road for a good 10 minutes. Like a complete lunatic.

I'm not sure what other drivers on the freeway were thinking as they passed/sped along.

I really couldn't see through the tears.

Joke.

I....Will keep my Sh*t together....I will

When I open my eyes Thursday morning and wake a grumpy little girl earlier than she's used to, dress her, put cute little piggy tails in her hair...I...Will keep my sh*t together...I will.

When I cut the crusts off her tiny little turkey sandwich, sneak a Smore's Granola bar, veggies, and a Juice Box....I...Will keep my sh*t together...I will.

When I start the car, pull out...stop the car, strap the kid IN her seat...I will keep my sh*t together...I will.

When we walk through her PRESCHOOL doors for the first time (actually second if you count the tour), with her hand in mine, and make our way to her classroom...I will keep my sh*t together...I will.

When I kiss her goodbye, and get cut off in my plea for love and adoration that I am the most wonderful mom ever when she excitedly sees her Teachers Aunty Awesome & Aunty Amazing...I will keep my sh*t together...I will.

When I walk back into the hallway and see the other parents...I will smile...do the parent nod...and pretend...my lip may quiver...BUT I will keep my sh*t together...I will.

When the owner sees me at the entrance doors and says everything will be ok....I will keep my sh*t together...I will.

I may for a moment actually think I will stay in the parking lot until she is done 8 hours later...I will keep my sh*t together...I will.

When sanity takes over, I will drive home, wave to the neighbors, walk proudly up the stairs without her tagging along, I will unlock the door, plop on the couch, look around to the quiet and empty house...

....Wait, did I just write QUIET & EMPTY?

:Cricket Noise & Tumbleweeds:

My baby is in preschool...and her mommy has the whole house to herself!

17856837489 reasons to Ramble....from the Rambler

Oh dear God, I just downloaded Miley Cyrus's Party in the USA...What is wrong with me?

Alright...First of all, I liked the song first for it's oh so head nodding/hip moving way. And then I looked up the song and said...For shame Rambler!

Miley Effing Cyrus. (Sorry, she's normally not my cup of tea)


Miley Cyrus - Party in the USA

MySpace Today | MySpace Video

Shoulder Shrug. Oh Well.

Moving my head like Yeah...moving my hips like Yeah....


*********
You know those stories you hear of fathers trying to fix their daughters hairs?

So...my husband thought he would 'trim' our three year olds bangs. When I say trim...he thinks...

I'd like to say he somehow fused a bit of Dumb #1 and Dumber #2 's hair cause all that came to mind while staring at Lil Rambler's bangs and listening to her father go on and on about it happened to fast and before he knew it...(*sigh*...Daddy's...this one is for the books)

God Bless them both for trying.

*************

"Perk" of being the boss lady for my restaurant.

A drunk young couple come hooting and hollering into my outside cafe demanding to be served more booze and the waitstaff cuts them off...said crazy drunk guests don't want to leave but try to convince the management staff they they are 'perfectly (hiccup) FIIIIINNNNEEE (hiccup)'

Enter boss lady Rambler. The professional that I am says the following:

"Yeah...Sorry, but were gonna have to ask you to leave."

"Um, NO...if another table buys your drinks...YOU still can't drink HERE. What part of that is hard to understand?"

"Yeah... you flipping me off in my face is not helping YOU get alcoholic beverages from ME."

"YOU don't like this place? I just told you to leave? Problem solved. Have a good night!"

"Say F**k me to my face one more time and I'm about to take my earrings off and really show you what you can cry about. You will beg and scream for your mama! "

I'm kidding...I CAN'T say that.... (sigh...in a manager's dreams)

Yes...they really said F**k me to my face about 30 times. And no, this would not be the first time this was every uttered to me by a customer.

*************
My new favorite TV addiction is this show.

Modern Family. I snort and laugh out loud in the dark sneaking it in when I come home after midnight. It is just too damn funny.



My favorite is the Big Gay Guy Cam and Phil the "cool dad".

I snorted again just watching this preview to find for you guys.

***********

The Universe's way of laughing at my expense was this....

While pushing my cart toward Target...I realized I was close to the pissed off Target worker kid having to bring a zillion of the carts back to the main area (been there dude, you got it better...seriously)

...all of a sudden he was in front of me and I somehow became locked in the middle of the Target Road while I stood there thinking I must have not eaten all my Wheaties.

wondering and lifting the cart,
trying to push it on two wheels,
trying to push it sideways,
trying to push it backwards,
trying to push it while Lil Rambler looked at me with a look of concern that only a 3 year old could give,
sweating as I felt like I chose the time to shop with half the island and endured for 45 whole seconds their looks of how a normal human being couldn't push a shopping cart.

Until...I heard this.

"Maam...(shudder...I hate that word when directed at me)...It's locked...hold on...I have to Deactivate it..."

FOR.THE.LOVE.

Really?

***********

And that folks is all she wrote...for now!

It's OFFICIAL...the earth has shifted and I have become MY mother

That's right folks.

You heard it here first. I am MY mother.

Dear Planet Earth help us. (I kid Mom.)

I've suspected for about a year that I was slowly transforming into someone else. Someone that many doors become slammed on, fingers pointed at for reasons of frustrated tears, eye rolling over mundane things said by me. How could I evoke eye rolling because of the awesomeness of the words that come out of my mouth??? HOW?

And then it hit me.

While on a little excursion with my mother, my many jabs at how she was turning into her mother triggered some little reality inside my noggin that said...."Ding, dong...guess who YOU are?"

I argued with Reality for a bit.

I.Am.Not.

Eekk....that's just what my mother said about her not being her mother.

Eekkk again.

I started going through some mental list of possible offenses.

1. When we are driving I talk to my mother like her license should be taken away.

Just like she does about Grandma Rambler...(well in my mothers defense...G.Rambler is effing scary to drive with..but back to my point)

2. My level of patience?

Is ALL her. With a little bit of my laid back father poking through. But he never had a chance against her. Anxiety and paranoia always kick calm cool & collected to the side on occasion. She has absolutely NO patience with my grandmother. Zilch. It's thin already when she knows they will be in each others presence.

3. I started carrying a purse....the mommy purse....loaded with work things, me things, receipts of stores from 2 weeks ago, Lil Rambler stuff....

Envision my eyes rolling at my mother while she digs for something for someone to give them anything they might need.

Just like she does with her mother.

4. I started napping when I had a moment to read a magazine on the couch.

5. The kitchen became a place to be excited about rather than afraid.

6-1000.Doing laundry, picking up toys, going grocery shopping, planning doctor and dentist visits, teaching a little one to pick up after themselves, being a hairstylist.

All of this....is/was everything my mother does/did.

And now, it's my turn.

So, I told my mother in mock desperation with how I had been pushed off the edge by my old self into the depths of this new person who so closely resembled her. (Do you hear the drama here people?)

She listened patiently (as all mothers do, to ranting lunatic 30 something daughters), and let me hem and haw. I ended my speech of pain and torture and told her this was way too soon. She told me to accept it...as she enjoyed this new version of a mini-her.

So all I could do to 'fight' back with was....

if I was her....then she was her mother.

(Insert evil laughter)

But seriously folks, everyday I feel myself changing, moving forward in this journey of my life, becoming a better version of the person I was yesterday. And if it means I am similar to the woman who birthed me. Life will be good.

(Just don't tell my mother I said I enjoy being like her....because I will deny deny deny.)

Mermaid out of water.

Spending the day with my daughter at one of the most beautiful places to be 'beached' at.

Lanikai Beach.

If you haven't seen what my genius has been up to please visit here. I promise you'll thank me. At least, I think you will.

I'm here people....but really over there....

I know I'm not here....but my life is resuming back to normal as of Saturday.

For now here's a snippet of what's you'll find over at So Not Mom-a-licious as she asked for guest bloggers and I totally was like....um...hellllllllooooooo.

******
Do you know how it feels to beg, plead, bribe, flatter someone so they'll let you take over their blog...for a moment?

That would be me. (Ahem, my name is The Rambler over at My Rambling Thoughts.)

Someone I have been reading for a long bloggy time has requested anyone out there to volunteer to man her blog as she moves her life from San Diego to Texas.

I was like....Uh, uh, pick me, pick me...uh uh (waving hand wildly, but fearing the teacher won't pick me), right here, hello, here (make eye contact dang it)..

Yeah. That was me.

Janah had no choice but to look at me. (evil laughter.. I have won).....

********

For more....go go go here please please please.


I do promise I will be around this weekend blogfriends. Hope you are all well.

Dear (insert something) letters,

Dear Exercise,

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

Sincerely,

Overweight Ihateyou the Second.

*********

Dear Wii Fit,

Yeah. I.fuhreaking.know.

Signed,

Shamed while couch potatoing it with a box of wheat thins.

*********

Dear Punk Kids on the Freeway,

Driving with a car in each lane and slowing down the traffic so no one could pass you guys for 10 exits?

NOT COOL!

Signed,

Anxiety driven, over tired mother

**********

Dear Weather Gods.

Please be nice on Sunday. BFF's wedding day. Please?!

Signed,

Willing for it to storm many days in hopes on one great day for Sunday


********

Dear Husband,

Enjoy your 'work' trip on the East Coast for two weeks.

Signed,

Your "Don't worry I got it" Wife

*********

Dear Cousin in Law,

Thank.you. for.flying.to.Hawaii.to.watch.my.kid.so.I.can.work.and.be.helpful.with.BFF.wedding.

Signed,

LOVE YOU LONG TIME!

*********

Dear Blog,

Gonna be a busy week. Might be missing under a slew of activities this next two weeks.

Signed,

*Sigh*

********

Dear Blog Friends,

Wanna try to win a homemade warming pad? See my sister's blog.

Signed,

Nepotism runs strong here at MRT, Inc.

*********

Toodles...

Karma paid my husband a visit...

So, I'm not entirely gloating here or feeling like someone in the universe gave me a little justice.

Buttttt.....

My husband was being a tad douchie the other night. Being a good wife and Samaritan I decided to ignore his douchieness!

When he had a tantrum that matched our three year old, he went into the room while my angelic ways continued in the living room.

I heard a thud and a not so nice word coming from my bedroom door.

When I went to investigate I realized he had sat on his computer chair to hard.

And.it.broke.

(Buwhahahahaha...see what happens when your evil to your wife?)

Karma comes a knocking.


High Five Karma Fairy, High.Five.

******

For the record, I don't ever wish ill harm to my husband. I closed the door and snickered without him seeing! What kind of wife do you take me for?

Toodles!!

What a weekend, what a weekend.

Where do I start?

Between getting a call from one of my musicians singing happy birthday over the phone and another serenading me in the middle of my bar, your bloggy birthday wishes, my personal facebook birthday love, and all my family and friends...I most definitely felt loved that day. So as we say here in Hawaii...Mahalo Nui Loa.


It was quite a weekend and I promised you that this next post would be about....

"What happens when Rambler throws a Sex and The City Party?"

Well.....holy whoa is all I have to say.

I decided to host a party for most of my female staffers after hours in our bar for camaraderie's sake and to just mix, mingle and hang out with each other.

Our original premise was to gather and have a movie night (Sex and The City).


And somehow it came along with an innocent presentation from an old employee showing us the latest and greatest toys. Of the sexual nature. (blush) They are called Passion Parties.

Again, I assumed innocence and that it couldn't be too wild. Right?

Imagine 25 of my girl employees, 2 Cosmo Martini Towers that held 5o+ martinis (cause it's what the girls in Sex and the City would drink...duh), a naughty cake that would make a porn star ecstatic and a leopard clothed 'pleasure/treasure' chest filled with lotions, creams and 'other goodies'.

Um.... all I can really say is a LOT of giggling went on, silly games that made us laugh even more and a feel and touch of certain products to 'understand' it's purpose (more drunken nervous giggling) and being given names that were 'dirty' that started with the first initial of our name. Oh my.

Some things you might have heard had you been in attendance....

"You put that where?"

"Ohhhhh, febreeze for vajayjays"

"Erm, um, his what goes THERE?"

"Ohhh, it does tingle."

"Girls (said scoldingly) that is NOT lotion for your arms!" (Sex consultant to slightly inebriated Rambler and fellow staff member thinking the febreeze vajayjay lotion was a body lotion)


Yeah. it was a really interesting weekend :)

I do wish I could share photos...but the fear my grandmother will ever see this blog frightens me. (tee hee) Although, she and my aunt baked me pee pee cookies for my bridal shower. (shoulder shrug)

Another Year, Another Day....A sweet message from above?

Yesterday was a really GREAT day. So great it's been a while I think since I felt so great.

This song has been playing on my IPOD so I thought I'd share with you while you read this post....an oldie but a goodie I say.



Back to story...

My mother had called to see if me and the kid could take her on for an emergency tooth repair on her lunch break. Of course with all she does, I said we would be there. The tricky part of getting her is that traffic is so all over the place that my drive to her could be either 10 minutes or 30 minutes. (On the really bad days...an hour..blahhhh).

The kid and I went for our usual coffee and bagel at our favorite "Cocoa" Place/Starbucks. Enjoying the time with each other made me proud to be her mama.

When the coffee was drank, and the bagels eaten we set off to pick up Nana Rambler.

The traffic had cut me a break and I arrived to my mothers office building with 15 minutes to spare so I decided to stop by my fathers grave to visit and say a quick hello.

My daughter who's three got out and we said hello...and I don't know why but I asked her to sit by his tombstone so I could get a quick pic on my Boyphone with her and her Papa H.



As soon as I had clicked the photo a pure YELLOW butterfly fluttered right past us and hung around.

I love YELLOW. My father apparently loved YELLOW. That color has been the physical reminder as my father at my graduation and wedding thanks to friends and family members.

In the 16 years I've been visiting his grave I've never seen a butterfly, let alone a yellow butterfly...let alone a PURE yellow.

I strangely felt it was him and little tears sprung to my eyes and I had to catch my breath from the surprise of it. Was I reaching to far to think that it was a sign from him?

I sent that picture off to my two sisters and shared the story. That maybe Dad had paid a visit in his way.

**********

Adding to this was that my favorite CCBFF (crackity crack BFF)/cousins wife from California is coming back to help me with the kid while my husband travels to Connecticut for work. After frantic calling around to arrange sitters for her dogs (my cousin is a fireman so he's gone many days in a row at a time), she secured her ticket back to sun, sand and a three year old that will be her little shadow.

********

And...well...today is my birthday. And I felt really loved with a lot of early well wishes. I tell you this not in an arrogant sort of way but in a "Gee, maybe I'm an ok gal after all" kind of way. Like a little shocked that people think of me at all way.

I bid you all adieu.

Tune in for my next post....

"What happens when Rambler throws a Sex and the City Party?"

(I swear I haven't promised porn people I would say the word sex a trillion times in my post)

Long Absence makes the blogheart fonder....tales of sex shops, bridal parties, and other misc. things

Did I get you at sex shop?

Did you just go back to read my title?

I know...where the hell I been right?

RIGHT!?

You've missed me a bit?

Right?

I realize it's been over 3 whole weeks since I've posted last...that's like 3 years in blogtime I think. Where do I start?

Maybe...the sex shop?

Yeah. Alright. You twist my arm, I talk. (Rambler stretching arm toward you)

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I'm not a frequent goer to the sex shop. I blush every time I pass one. I pretend I don't know about things like dildo's and blow up dolls.

So when BFF's bridal party sleepover came up, it was time to suck it up (my courage, you dirty's) and put on the sexy no grandma style panties and drag my Crackity Crack Family BFF with me. She vacations in Hawaii from California and I tell her she must go with me.

Our husbands watch the kids....and we go. At nighttime....since for some reason it seems more seedy and appropriate to walk into a sex shop for bachlorette toys and games. I debated wearing a sign that said that.

We drive there, and I'm giggling. Me and the CCFBFF talk about the crazy things they sell in there. (NOT that we would KNOW things like that). I told her the last time I walked in about 2 years ago for a past bridal shower I threw, the cashier screamed a welcome as I entered so others would look at the new 'arrival'. (FOR.THE.LOVE.)

I was alone. It was intimidating looking at boobies, and va jay jays and ding dongs because they can't help but jump at you as you make your way to the bacholerette section in the FAR rear of the store.

Going with someone is soooo much better. More giggling....more snickers...and wonder of how something so ahem, cough, ...big...could be comfortable. Let alone pleasurable.

Anywhoodle. Complete with dirty charade games and stick the slong on the hot macho man poster and candies with naughty words on it, we were outta there. (THANK.GOD.)

But not without scaring a couple with our conversation walking back to the car that included words like "What do they do to the plastic sheep?"..."Anal beads??" "Double headed??? What does that mean?"

Ahhhh, it's all about the good times in life...RIGHT?

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My family was visiting in town and somehow I channeled my inner Martha Stewart and got more domesticated than I ever have.

It's great hosting family. No, for real. I had a good time doing it.

We tourist'ed around Oahu, put my diet on a serious scare due to excessive junk food eating, and let the sun bake my profoundly white skin back to a normal Hawaiian skinned color.

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So the bridal shower was great. Some of her besties got together. We had such grand plans of streaking through the 5 star hotel after dinner, jumping in the pool, or checking out the lagoons. Drinking like when we were 19.

But we weren't 19.

We had a fantastic dinner at a restaurant down the road, drank good wine, ate amazing food and closed the restaurant down. (I know Hip Hop Hippie...I know...baddddd Rambler)

And the hotel shuttle that was supposed to be there due to this answer when I asked the driver how long the shuttle ran.

"Every half hour"

Apparently that was NOT correct. So we walked it back....which was totally fine. So 5 drunk girls walk around 11ish back to the hotel.

We got back to the room and we slowly realized we couldn't hang like the old times.

The bride passed out first, and then before I knew it I was snoring like a banshee.

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So maybe I'll stop here... I'm slowly making it back into reading everyone's blog soon.

And I'm wishing my first lil sis Antibloggedy luck and support today. She's making a hellavu decision today.

Until later folks.

Just getting outside....

Sorry for being so MIA lately.

Just trying to get back into real life.

Be back soon.

The Husband...Me....and everything including the kitchen sink.

My husband and I are like from two different planets.

My world of fairy tales and unicorns with barbie dolls mixed in.

And his planet of G.I. Joe's and heavy laden tanks with a dallop of all things computer.

We aren't alike in any way. (Um, obviously...boys have penis's es and girls have vagina's....what movie was that?)

When he looks at a computer he visualizes it's insides and how every screw, wire and whatever else computer geeky has it's purpose.

Me? I wonder what blogs I'm going to visit.

He tried once to bring me into his world. I really did try.

We had just moved in with each other and he always took care of all things mechanical. That day he decided to take me to my car to 'educate' me. (Buwhahahahaha). We opened the hood and I could see his mind just whirling away with how the car engine operated.

Me. I wondered how long this would take.

He proceeded to point out things to have me and it's function. My girlie brain tried so hard to focus and when asked to repeat the whole "the leg bone is connected to the..." but insert engine parts I would be connecting the washer fluid to the radiator?? Wait, is it connected to the radiator?? Eh...see!

Poor guy. He tried.

And when he crosses over into my world a bit, it's a tad humorous.

He went to the store for me. I had to be real specific for him because he does not know how to deviate from the list if I am too vague.

We were making a pasta dinner and had our mind set on that. When I opened my box of noodles out came some nasty bugs...yuck..gag...yuck...gag.

He offered to get some new noodles and I mentioned I wanted a certain kind, and wasn't exactly sure of the name. But he knew what they looked like.

He had come home with a tale of complete man breakdown while deciding between two different noodles. Standing there. Sweating it out a little bit. Panicky. Over noodles.

I buwhahahahaha'd with him. Silly man.

But...I digress a little.

I had for some lame reason dumped my bugged out noodles that had semi cooked into the garbage disposal. Apparently the noodles that didn't get properly cut up expanded more while 'trying' to go through the U-shaped pipe and caused a major malfunction.

I clogged the sink.

Me and the kid sat there while dinner was cooking. He unclogged, noodles disbanded all over the kitchen floor with me murmuring that I would clean it. (ahem...the shame of being completely ignorant of throwing things down the drain that would fare better in the trash can). Him, anazlying and doing whatever he does well. Thank God he was there.

Cause I would have just kept standing there looking at my clogged sink hitting the switch for the garbage disposal.

*Happy and content Sigh*...our two planets. They keep revolving around each other. Both co-existing in the same universe. Our kid being our sun and moon.

It would be empty without him around.

(as much as I hem and haw about him being around...giggle).

To you honey, I raise my Fruity Martini to your Beer.

Here's to my cooking dinner and you unclogging my mess!

Me and Stray Cats....Just.Don't.Get.Along!!

Some of you all know that I've had my run in's with my neighborhood stray ninja cats.

Well....I got paid a visit the other night after work.

My family and I live in a townhouse. We occupy the upstairs unit.

So imagine stairs to my front door.

Imagine me coming home after midnight.

Imagine it being dark. Really dark. (For theatrics sake)

Imagine me flipping the outside light on from the BOTTOM of my stairs so I can see the keyhole when I get to the top.

Imagine my surprise when I flipped the light on...I find a cat digging around in the garbage bag my husband left outside the front door to take out 'later in the morning on his way out'.

It was a black cat.

I had taken two steps upward in the same motion of flipping the light on and startled the beegeesus out of the cat and as it hissed and felt cornered it jumped on top of the railing by my front door and we had a stare down.

I took many steps back....cause I'm the biggest chicken sh*t in the world...especially when tired and cranky after a long hard strenuous work day (yes....the violins are playing for my whine and cheese story).

I silently curse my husband for leaving the trash out. I wonder if I'll have to go back to my car because if you read the other ninja cat story you'll understand my hesitation to proceed.

I'm sweating. And panicking.

So is the cat.

And then it freaking jumps off the railing to the tree away from where I am. But the leaping thing made me think it was leaping in mid air to attack me.

So I sorta threw my purse down, and covered my face and head and squealed in mock pain like it had hit me.

Then the tiny little rational person inside me, who had tried explaining that I outweighed the furball by a trillion pounds and that I was the person, IT was the animal....and that along the food chain of things I ranked superior, heard tree branches and scrambling of 4 tiny disgusting vile feet make it's way beyond me.

So it's past midnight. My purse is on the ground by the slugs because I didn't pay much attention when I frigged out. My nerves were beyond shot. And I need to go to my front door but the paranoia plays mean mind games on me thinking the cat was still in the tree right by my front door and would lunge for my face and rip out my eyeballs.

So I did what any completely silly person would do. I ran up my steps with my slugged slimed-ed purse to my face and opened up 2 doors, (since when the hell did my husband close both doors? I close the second door when I get in...), 4 locks with trembling hands and escaped what I'm sure was a near death experience.

And I'm sure that if ANY of my neighbors (or husband) had been up at the late late hour I would have looked/felt/seemed more pathetic than I was.

Sigh.

Some days it sucks to be me.

I hate cats.

The stray kind.

Interviewing can be interesting....

I've been in management for over 10 years and I have to say...

I've interviewed some really interesting characters.

Before an interview I usually like to designate someone to 'watch me'. Just in case I don't know how to politely end the interview. I don't care what they say just please come by and say it's the effing President on the phone and I have to end the interview.

Below are some of the people I get to interview at least once a month...

The Over-Talker-InterviewEE-turned-InterviewER.
(The OTITI..I know what it sounds like)

The person kind of sneaks up on you. Beware. It's innocent really, because they are dressed nice, good eye contact. They brought a pen to the interview!

(My pet peeve. To me, it's like going there without a shirt on...always be prepared. Bring a pen. You should only have to ask me for an application.)

The OTITI immediately takes over the conversation in an instant.

She/He speaks quickly and without breathing. While you stand there and attempt many inserts of your own questions, they rattle on. Oblivious to the fact the manager has not been able to ask one question except to say..."Hi, my name is Boss Rambl..."

My mind wanders a bit in between attempts. "How many pots of coffee has she had" "Will she shut up so I can ask a question" "Too bad, she looked normal"

My Designator was busy 'flirting' with a pretty gal who'd just come to his bar. (Damn him, must remember to pick more reliable Designator)

The Awkward-Quiet-My-Mother-Told-Me-to-Get-A-Job

This is a kid that usually sits on their behind at home. Just graduated from high school, maybe. Completely unmotivated. Their mother just wants them to get OUT OF THE HOUSE. (I don't blame her).

This makes for a most awkward interview because of their one word answers to all your questions.

Or blank looks because they can't believe they had to dress up with a nice shirt and tie and sit at a table with an "old" lady and answer questions.

For me, this is an easy interview to end quickly.

Don't call me, I'll call you kind of thing.

The-Don't-Look-Me-In-The-Eyes-Person

I grew up learning to shake hands firmly and look people in the eyes. Shifty eyes can be unsettling and uncomfortable.

This person from the moment you shake hands looks over, around and below you. I find myself secretly brushing past my mouth, nose and eyes blindly searching for remnants of food, buggers and or crap attached to my face in an unattractive way. Or checking to see if my bra strap is showing or toilet paper is stuck on my shoe. All at the same time. Because shifty eyes makes me nervous.

I ask my questions. I get answers but with very little to no eye contact. Again, I wonder if the spinach I ate days ago is somehow lodged still between my two front teeth. Very distracting for a person like me doing an interview.

And usually after the interview...I go to a mirror to check myself out.

Gotta catch another thing...Person

"Dude...you the manager?"

"Yes?" (Oh God)

"So, do you have to work hard here?"

"Um..." (Oh Lord. Really?)

"Cause I need money...but I don't enjoy working. Dude."

"Erm...I'm not hiring right now" (As I hide the Now Hiring sign)


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So words of advice from Boss Rambler here.

Bring a pen, shake hands firmly but not WWF-ly, make good eye contact, and let the interview be a two way conversation.

Random Tidbits to start of my week.

A little happy jam to start our morning. Heard this on It's Sherendipity blog. Don't need to watch the video...just hear the music as you read on.


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It was the kids' 3rd birthday Sunday.

Hots Dogs, Teriyaki Burgers, Bubbles and Bouncy House.

We had a blast.

Lil Rambler had the best day.


Small confession. I can't sing Happy Birthday to HER without choking up inside. I am in awe of her, and just being a mother to her, and loving someone as much as her that it literally knocks the breathe out of me when everyone is singing around her while she glows. She makes a mommy proud.

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On to hot dogs and the never ending asking of this question.

WHY in the world do hot dogs come in packs of 8 and the buns come in packs of 10?

WHY?

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I promised Mo "Mad Dog" Stoneskin a cold one while he started his Monday trekking through blog land. Hoping he stops by for his beer. Wasting beer is bad isn't it? :)

He's a great writer and has American Moms going gaga for him.

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Another moment brought to you from my job.

This person ate all their food. They then told the server it needed to be taken off the bill because they refuse to pay for it. Server was nervous and asked me to speak to the table.

Of course. That is why I wear the manager badge. So that I can get my ass chewed out on a daily basis for ridiculous reasons.

I politely, professionally and firmly explained because most (98%) of the meal was eaten I could do nothing. The person thought I was the most ridiculous person on the planet.

People. Its like eating all your Big Mac and taking the empty wrapper back to the cashier and saying you didn't like it and want your $1.50 back. Crazy right?

*shaking head* I'm getting too old for this sh*t!

btw...I did not budge. He paid for the meal he ate.

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I have started potty training. It's tricky. Well actually my daughter is tricky.

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Have a great week everyone!!