Randoms.

1. Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes split! I am so happy for her. Normally, Hollywood divorces, especially when children are involved, make me very sad. But due to Tom Cruise's utter creep factor and his spooky Scientology hard-on, I am just so happy Katie is getting out of there. I hope she wins full custody of Suri like she wants. I feel like such a loser for writing about this, but it's on my mind and won't get out.


2. My forearms are freaking blasted from this week's Wednesday Workout! God, burpees are intense. I highly recommend giving that workout a try or at the very least, throwing it at least three sets of 10 burpees between moves in your regular workout. Speaking of workouts, I only got in three this week and thanks to the pizza I had for lunch yesterday and the fast food breakfast I had this morning, I feel like a lardass. Next week, DO ALL THE WORKOUTS!

3. Hey people who wink: CUT IT OUT. I hate it. Unless you are 85 and a grandpa (yes both are required), it is creepy and gross and perverted. It doesn't convey charm or openness or swagger, it is just lame as hell. Each wink is like a bee sting to my senses.


4. Last night Todd and I had salmon burgers and it made me realize that there are people out there who do not know about these blessed creations. So I share them with you. They are Trident Salmon Burgers and we get them at Costco but I am sure they exist in other locations. Try that link, the website has an online store. Not sure how well frozen salmon patties travel but I'm sure they figured that shit out. After all, refrigerated train cars were invented like three hundred years ago.


5. I finished editing my book! I even drafted my first query letter. Of course, after doing that I realized it would add depth AND length (oh god am I talking about sex right now?) if I added the POV of one of the main characters. Then I realized that if I'm serious about publishing it, I should probably get some books and research life in the 1500s for the flashback scene. And then I had to change the names of three of my characters and thanks to one character's nickname being Eli, MS Word changed ALL the "eli"s in the story. Like "believe" for example. It was just one big clusterfuck. So now on top of research and more writing, I also have to comb through 70k words to manually change all the names that need replacing.  But, hey! Bright side is, I did all the editing!


6. I should really have a Randoms tag, I think.

Bad Butts!

Now just where do they think they're going? 

Wednesday Workout!

Holy shit this sort of kicked my ass. Nothing like doing three sets of 10 burpees throughout a workout to make a girl simultaneously feel like a badass and also like throwing up.

Warm Up
4 Sun Salutations
30 Jumping Jacks

Workout
100 Ab Moves:
       30 Bicycle Crunches
       20 Fold Out Crunches *
       30 Bicycle Crunches
       20 Standard Crunches
10 Burpees
40sec Plank
80 Squats
40sec Plank
10 Burpees
70 Leg Lifts (35 each side)
40sec Plank
10 Burpees

Cool Down
4 Sun Salutations

It looks short, but damn it wore me out.


*Lie on your back, knees in to your chest, hands behind your head. Bring your head to your knees. Unfold your body, keeping your lower back against the floor. Bring your knees and head back. That's one.

The Beat Goes On.

Not musical beats, but the pounding beat of my feet hitting the treadmill last night. It's been three months to the DAY since I last ran three miles, and that day was March 25th, the day of my triathlon. My knee was complaining a LOT, which I've posted about before, but now I can finally achieve a pain-free run, so long as it's on the treadmill. I may never comfortably run outside with any regularity, at least if I don't get my knee checked out. Which I should do. But like I said, it's not my actual knee, it's the bone beneath it, where the tendon connects to my shin. It's raised and while it doesn't hurt today thanks to an icing session last night, it typically does when I press on the area, wear high heels for a while, or sit Indian style too long.

Sounds lovely, right?

It just felt so good to run last night. I had a good weight lifting session before so I was fired up, but I was also SO nervous it would hurt. Last week I did two miles on the treadmill and was so psyched. I am hoping I can just slowly get back into doing a run 2x a week, replacing the bike. I love biking but I am convinced, CONVINCED that biking is what exacerbated the issue.

There's also the issue of the training regimen I was doing. It was a 12 week program but I gave myself almost twice as long to get ready, and so I did a very intense schedule for like 22 weeks. I guess that should be my cautionary tale to all of you out there who want to participate in a vigorous event like a triathlon or a marathon: Don't overdo it, or else the event will take things from you. I still don't resent doing the triathlon but I was doing four mile runs outside, you guys, before the training. I miss those runs.

I could have joined a triathlon training group but call me antisocial or a bitch or whatever, but I rather enjoyed doing it all by myself. Also the meeting places were SO FAR AWAY and also the Tri Girls person I talked to at the triathlon was sort of a know-it-all bitch and there is only room for one know-it-all bitch in my life and that is me.

Anyways, I think two runs in two weeks is a sign that I'll be reclaiming the run this summer. I feel like I'm my old self again while running, breathing to the time of my own footfalls, back straight and shoulders loose, arms moving at a minimum, lift with your hips, don't lift those feet too high, don't waste energy. Run. Run. Run. Reclaim the run.

And that feels like its own accomplishment right there, in and of itself. I trained, completed a triathlon, and gave myself some time to heal. But if I'm going to do the Color Run in Phoenix in January, and the Warrior Dash while possibly pregnant next spring, then I have work to do. And icing to do. And a Rolfing appointment to make. And some asses to kick, names to take, etc etc.

The beat goes on.

Sunday is Family Day.

Due to the nature of Todd's job, AKA being self employed in real estate, he is able to watch Alexandra during the days I work. I work three days a week. This leaves him with only two weekdays to get all of his stuff done. Before you start thinking that being in real estate makes him some sort of Big Boss Man, let me enlighten you. He himself describes it best: he's a glorified trash man. People bail out on their rent, and bail out on Todd and he is left to literally clean up the mess. There's lots of re-tiling, re-carpeting, hauling out mattresses, busting up couches, fixing toilets, repairing electrical issues, painting apartments, and sometimes replacing refrigerators when the asshole tenant SELLS HIS FRIDGE in a yard sale. Yeah that really happened.

Anyways, before I start ranting and raving about how poorly Todd and his properties have been treated in the last several years, let me get back on track. With only two days during the week to work without having to drag Alexandra along (she is already a regular at the bank, the post office and Home Depot), he has no choice but to also work on Saturdays.

I am not complaining about the fact that we don't need daycare, or the fact that this schedule makes it possible for me to work just three days a week. But it's sad because six days of the week we don't see each other a lot. Todd is gone from morning til 5pm or later on the days I'm home with Alex. It gets kind of lonely, to be honest.

So that is why Sundays are sacred family days! We get to spend time together as a family. It's such a nice thing, to have Todd home at the same time that I am. To not have one of us bustling out the door in the mornings, going to work, to just hang out together as a family, is just so wonderful.

Yesterday we decided to go to a nearby park's Splash Pad so Alex could run around in the water. For those who aren't accustomed to a splash pad, it's basically a big cemented area, fenced off and completely enclosed, with big water features like big gushing fountains burbling right out of the floor, or big buckets high up that slowly fill with water and tip over once they're full. There are big arches you can run through while getting sprayed and it's just a lot of fun.

Also, CHAOS. Todd and Alex were both overwhelmed in the beginning and I was taken aback by the overpowering scent of bleach in the air. Which was totally necessary especially as a little boy came running towards Alex and me holding his wang out of his suit, peeing, heading for the drain in the center. Um, gross. But soon, and on her own time and in her own way, Alex warmed up to not only the huge crowd but also to the water features. Soon we had a soaked little girl who was having a blast.

Afterwards, we hung out in the neighboring field and Todd and Alex ran around playing together. There was toddler-tossing...

A rowdy game of Chicken...

And Alex chasing daddy.

And it just melted my heart, watching my beautiful family have fun on a beautiful summer day. Alex in her diaper, barefoot and wild, squealing with joy and shrieking in delight as her daddy chased her, tickled her, and tossed her into the sky.

We may only get one day a week, but we try to guarantee quality every time.

Wheel of Fortune.

True, it's still stinky old television but at least it's a family affair.

Review: Sesame Street Fizzy Tub Colors

Alexandra loves her nightly tub time but sometimes a little encouragement is necessary. I was shopping at Fry's when this caught both my eye and Alex's (she is so hooked on Elmo, it's insane):

Look, even Bingley is there for the momentous occasion! And look, Alex's first photo bomb!

Blue!

Red!

Yellow! And with that, we also get green and orange! It's a freaking rainbow in there!

All in all, it's a lot of fun, extremely cheap, and even the pets get a kick out of it.

Grade: A

Summery Shrimp Pasta

Summery! What a lovely word, full of warm nights, crisp, refreshing meals and ice water with lemon slices. And also this meal!


Summer Shrimp Pasta
serves 2

6oz spaghetti or linguini
Olive oil
1lb shrimp, shelled and cleaned
1/4 cup snipped fresh parsley
1/2 small onion, finely chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 tsp red pepper flakes
1/2 lemon
1/4 cup white wine
1/4 tsp powdered chicken bouillon
6oz zucchini, cut into noodle strips
2oz shredded parmesan, divided

So here is my awesome mandolin, which I use to make my zucchini noodles:

Did I mention that we got new lighting in the kitchen? And my GOD it is so much more pleasant in there. Here is the setting I use:

And here is the tasty result!

Anyways, once your water is boiling, add your spaghetti and set a large skillet over medium high heat. Add your oil and once it's heated through, add your shrimp. Once they're pink, add your parsley, onion, garlic, and pepper flakes. Toss to heat and once the garlic is fragrant, add your wine, the juice of half a lemon and powdered bouillon.

When the pasta is finished, drain and set aside. At this moment you want to add the zucchini to the skillet. Toss to coat and mix up with the shrimp. Remove skillet from heat and dish up!

Add an ounce of parmesan to each serving and then dig in! The red pepper flakes add just a hint of spice, the cheese adds just the right amount of decadence, and it all comes together in what Todd described himself as a perfect summer dish. Crisp and refreshing, even though it's hot.

GLASSES

So my glasses came the other day and this is how excited I was to get the call:

And I know I talked about WHY I was so excited, AKA how shitty my other glasses were. Let me show you.

Pair the first:

Do please note how the arms are DIFFERENT GODDAMN LENGTHS thanks to the (dearly departed) cat who gnawed on them. Oh and let's not neglect to mention the safety pin.

Pair the second, my prize from stupid old Lenscrafters. The safety pin fell out so now it looks like a beetle with its legs pulled off.

In pieces.

Ta-da! My conquest! My darling pair of new glasses, perfect prescription, perfect fit. The dude at Coscto (dude is his formal title) fitted them specifically to my face, shaping the parts that go behind my ears by dipping them in these super hot crystal glass bead type things? Did I ever tell you I'm a writer and the written word is the tool of my trade?

It has its own CASE. Kirkland Signature, baby!

I am a happy girl!

THE NEW PHONE BOOK'S HERE THE NEW PHONE BOOK'S HERE


I'M SOMEBODY

Fears.

One of our favorite TV shows just revealed a minor plot detail for this season, and crazy enough it is pretty close to a major theme in the story I've written that I hope to one day publish if I could ever get my ass off the internet in order to finish the editing process.

That's one of my biggest fears. Once I was in the middle of writing this rad story and then a fucking MOVIE came out and it was basically the same plot. Since we live in Tucson which is close enough to LA and since I was spending a lot of my free time in bars back then, I was convinced I'd talked too much about my Genius Book Idea in public and that some one from LA stole it and wrote a screenplay about it.

What, I am not paranoid!

Anyways, that got me thinking about fears. Now, I won't bore everyone with I'm Afraid to Die (since I already blogged about that) but also because DUH that is a pretty basic fear and where is the fun in that? Same with harm coming to my loved ones, etc. Here are some really stupid fears that I cannot shake no matter how old and wise I become, for your amusement and confusion.


1. First off, and I don't care WHO disagrees with me because it is a known fact that sharks live in the deep ends of pools, specifically at night. They get in there through the drain and are able to shrink to fit, sort of like an octopus or a small kitten or something, and the expand to roughly twice the size of the shark in Jaws even though that shark couldn't fit in the deep end. IT HAPPENS OK. THEY ARE THERE. YOU SWIM FAST THROUGH THE DEEP END AT NIGHT PEOPLE. Oh god, I get the shivers just thinking about it.

Granted, I'm terrified of large bodies of water in general so I guess it doesn't come as a surprise that I shrink down that fear into one scary sea creature and throw it in a seemingly (SEEMINGLY) harmless backyard swimming pool. There is this man made lake here called Pena Blanca? And when my dad told me it was probably 100 feet deep while we were swimming in it? I could have killed him. I could have died. Instantly, there was a monster in that lake. Then the bass started nibbling on my toes and I think I flew to shore I was so terrified.


2. Bathtubs in multi-floor apartment buildings or hotels freak me out. I am convinced the bathtub above mine will smash through the floor and crush me. Don't even get me started on how unsettling it is when you can hear the people in the apartment/room above you using the tub at the same time. I remember the first bath I had in my first apartment, which was in a single story triplex and I was SO RELIEVED, and I remember literally looking up at the ceiling and being so happy.


3. I used to have these horrible dreams of my teeth falling out and that used to be a huge fear of mine, so much so that after one particularly realistic dream (they ALWAYS start out innocently enough until I realize all my teeth are so loose I can just pluck them out of my mouth), I called my mother and made her promise me that she would help get me permanent teeth implants if it ever were to happen.

Anyways, those dreams never happen anymore. My dad told me once they were all about vanity and I wonder if that might be true. One dream site said that the teeth falling out represented death but since I'm still totally scared about dying and yet have no more teeth-related dreams, I don't think that's true. The dreams stopped when shit in life started getting real, so I think my focus drifted towards more than just being an extremely attractive woman. Hahahahaha.


4. These motherfuckers:

WHY IS THIS PERSON HOLDING SATAN IN HIS HANDS?!  I highly doubt I need to get into the reasons why this land leviathan scares me, but for those of you reading this who have never experienced the terror of an air borne palo verde beetle (YES THEY FLY), the reason why they suck so hard is because they fly the way a drunk person walks AKA without rhyme or reason. They fly right so you dodge left but then it's HEY JIL I AM HERE LOL LETS HUG AND KISS XOXO, PV BEETLE and my god, you need a fucking valium after an encounter like that and if you don't believe me please LOOK AT THE PHOTO


5.  We already discussed zombies!

Swimmer!

In honor of my achieving 2260 yards in 45 minutes, I present you with what Alexandra looks like in my swim gear.

The joy! The glee! Not only is she in my apparel, she is getting her photo taken by more than one person AT A TIME. Mind blown, right Alex?

She loves wearing my swim cap and because she's nobody's fool, the swimsuit naturally pairs with it. If the suit is in sight, and the cap is on her head, then hot damn, the suit goes on!

"God I am so cute!!"

Gesundheit.

So if everything happens for a reason, why do I always seem to sneeze directly after applying my mascara?

Four Eyes.

I got new glasses! I got new glasses! I got new glasses! I guess this subject would be more interesting if I had them in my grubby little paws (or on my grubby little face so I could post a photo), but they take 10 days to be made. But I am so, so excited.

I've had bad luck with glasses. The first time I went to Wal Mart Vision, and the lenses were messed up. There was like this weird crease, it seemed, right in the line of vision in the right lens. Of course, I never got it fixed because I was lazy and Wal Mart was SO FAR AWAY. But then the cat (yes, the cat, but not Bingley, another asshole cat) chewed up one of the arms, right where it goes behind my ear. That sucks, and no amount of scotch tape could cover it up.

Anyways, pair number 2 from Lenscrafters, which took like 5 years for me to finally go get, turned out way too big for my face, weren't measured correctly, and seriously, when I'd sneeze they'd fall off my face. Then the screws fell out and I was the proud owner of a pair of glasses held together by two too-big safety pins. Sexy stuff!

So finally, I sucked it up and, during my latest eye exam at Wal Mart vision, I asked about the cost of lenses. Since I am SO blind, I need the slimmest, sleekest lens out there to prevent coke bottle glasses syndrome. Those lenses? Yeah: $180. Luckily the frames start at $9 but those all sucked and the best ones in the cheapie section were like $20. So $200 for glasses.

Then! Then! I remembered Costco! I called and their slimmest, sleekest lens: $95. Let me clarify: NINETY FIVE FUCKING DOLLARS! WOOHOO. So I mosey on down there only to realize that what I should have asked as a follow up was "What is the average cost of your frames?" because holy shit, $179? I don't need Coach or Karl fucking Lagerfield glasses, I need durable baby-proof, cat-proof, JIL-PROOF glasses that don't cost an arm and a leg.

After probably 40 minutes, during which Alex was  running around with a pair of trial glasses on her face (too cute), dropping her lovey all over and doing what can only be described as downward dog butt push ups, I finally found a great pair: dark frames, slightly thick, and only $44 (thank you Kirkland Brand). Hurrah! And even better is that the woman who helped me actually measured where my pupils were on the lenses, marking where my line of vision would be, unlike anyone at Wal Mart or Lenscrafters. So I think three time's the charm.

Better yet? Overall cost: $139 and change. That's $41 cheaper than just the lenses at stupid old Wal Mart.

The Great Escape.

I just want to point out that he shoveled himself into the small front pocket of the suitcase, not the like, actual part where clothes go. This is the pocket where you stick your magazines, or the cell phone charger you almost forgot. Crap, this reminds me, I need to charge my phone.

He is so surly when he looks at me.

"It's cozy as hell in here, lady, I don't care what you think. But that flash is starting to tick me off."

And just like that, he swats my face. Such a respectful little guy.

Diva.

Are there even any words right now for this?

Not really.

But I will say (brag) that she picked out the entire ensemble herself AND got the shoes on the correct feet. As for the messy hair and copious amounts of drool, I'm keeping mum.

That Darn Cat.

You know what they say, location is everything. Let me tell you how true this is, through photography.

From above it doesn't look so... offensive.

But, and I do mean but, from another angle, it looks, well...

Like the eye of Sauron, on a day at the beach, I guess?

1st Annual Girls Weekend Getaway

It only took me all week to write about it but here we go!

I had the idea, many, many moons ago, to get a big group of us to stay at one of the casinos here in town. It'd be liking going to Vegas but for way cheaper, even though the odds are crappier here than in Vegas. Anyways, that idea didn't pan out, but it spawned another one: a girls only night in one of Tucson's illustrious resorts. No cooking, cleaning, babies, no alarm clocks. No boys, either! We'd lay out by the pool, we'd go out to dinner, we'd just have fun. The idea stuck and grew into fruition, and I'm happy to say that the First Annual Girls Weekend Getaway was a hit.

On board were Allison, Amanda, Amber and Kendra. The five of us were ready for some easy living. We spent Saturday night up at Ventana Canyon resort and I think we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

We lounged poolside...

Had an amazing view (no, not of the dude in the middle of the pool).

We read hilarious excerpts from 50 Shades of Grey on an iPad. Well, I read one sex scene using a valley girl voice for Anastasia and the voice Todd made up for Patton for Christian Grey. Which worked out really well.

And we enjoyed poolside drinks!

After lots of giggles and pool time, we readied ourselves for dinner.

Just because it's a husband free weekend doesn't mean you need to hide your legs!

The cabbie inexplicably offered us Trader Joe's organic lollipops. I myself am a rabid fan and I had no qualms snagging the lemon one.

The cabbie took us to this Italian place that, due to our insane experience, will remain unnamed. Oh hell with it, it was Piazza Gavi. Our waitress was absolutely shitfaced drunk or high, slurring her words and lacking the ability to make prolonged eye contact. I had to plunge the toilet myself when it wasn't working, and then to top it off, Amber found our waitress throwing up in the ladies room. But on the positive side, we made two tables leave our area of the patio due to our shrieks of laughter, and you really can't go wrong with that.

We went for a couple of drinks at a couple of bars, and then headed back to the hotel. Amber, Allison and Amanda snuggled up together and watched Teen Witch and Kendra and I went swimming until 4am because we're absolutely stupid.

The next day was champagne brunch! The spread was unbelievable. Outside there was a grilling station with steaks made to order, prime rib, salmon, chicken, veggies and fruit, potato salads, mac and cheese, salad... Inside, there was seafood and sushi, traditional fare like bacon and home fries, eggs Benedict, an omelet station, cheeses and fruits, pasta salads, and did I forget to mention the three long tables full of dessert?

Long story short: It was an amazing weekend. I can't wait to do it again next year, with more of our girlfriends, I hope. And, to be honest, more sleeping and less swimming. I wouldn't even mind just eating at the hotel and going straight from swimsuit to stretchy pants and no bra.

But having said all that, when the night ends up with this sort of sass...

...I'd say we hit it out of the park.

Wednesday Workout!

Here's one for the gym, but if you're like me, even having a gym membership doesn't automatically make your workouts awesome. You get bored, or you plateau, or you're not sure how to change it up. So enjoy this interval workout! HIIT stands for High Intensity Interval Training. RPE stands for Rate of Perceived Exertion.

You could also change the speeds listed to RPMs in order to do this on a stationary bike. It requires a bit of math but there are calculators on cell phones now.

Awww, this makes me miss running.

Movie Review: Shaolin

Todd and I watched this film on Netflix streaming. We started it during Alex's nap one lazy Sunday, and just wrapped it up last night.

The story takes place during the warlord era of early Republic of China (early 1900s). The main character, Hou Jie, the man pictured in the top center row (hello hot stuff, might I add), is one of the aforementioned warlords. Without spoiling too much of the plot, let's just say there's some plotting on his part, plotting on the film's Big Bad, Cao Man (the hottie on the left in the top row), and Hou Jie ends up left with nothing.

Though he initially had mocked Shaolin, after meeting the Temple's cook, Wudao (hey there, Jackie Chan! don't worry, you're a cutie too), he decides to remain there, become a monk and atone for his sins. There, he slowly wins the respect and admiration of his fellow monks, most specifically the Senior Brothers.

Naturally, there is a big old showdown between Cao Man and Hou Jie, all while European soldiers, who are of course evil, and there to purchase old relics under the guise of building a railroad, do their best to be stereotypically evil (the main bad European guy even does an evil laugh as he blows stuff up).

It's a good movie with a great theme of forgiveness and repentance, but even though there is tragedy as with most Chinese hero films, this one did strike me as particularly sad, but that is coming from me and my Western perspective. There are of course badass fighting scenes, but since it takes place in the early 1900s, there are guns and that shit just isn't fair. There is also humor in the film, which I think is mightily important in an otherwise heavy story. I was particularly pleased to see Jackie Chan taking a less prominent fighting role in the movie. Oh, he gets his moment, for sure, but it's an inspiring one; he is no goofy hero in this movie like he tends to be in others.

If you enjoy kung fu movies (mandatory in our house), then I think you'll enjoy this. If you're not, I still think this film is accessible enough to pique your interest.

Grade: B++ (extra plus for all the epic eye candy)

Sleepy

This past weekend, four of my friends and I enjoyed the First Annual Girls Weekend Getaway. We stayed at Ventana Canyon, the same resort Todd and I went to last year to celebrate our anniversary. It was an absolute blast. We lounged poolside, giggling at some of the more colorful guests and sipping cocktails. We got dolled up and went, via Party Cab, to a restaurant and a couple of bars. Then Allison, Amanda and Amber watched Teen Witch in bed together while Kendra and I wisely decided to go sneak down to the pool and swim from 1am to 4am, then eat room service sandwiches while watching the last scene of Babe (the pig movie) before collapsing.

I intend to blog more about it and post photos from our getaway, because today's post is not really about the weekend. I am so, so tired from what was supposed to be a restful weekend, and I think it affected my dreams last night. I dreamed crazy shit all night long but perhaps the most amusing dream segment was when I was shopping for a new lipstick at Target.

Instead of the usual aisles though there was a big section of the store dedicated to makeup and it was set up like a boutique. There was even a saleswoman and it was Tina Fey! Interesting! Even crazier was that the specific lipstick I wanted was only 9.79 or something, and then when I went to check out, first off Tina Fey tried to up the cost. The total came out to like, 24 bucks. I corrected her, she adjusted the price, and then the total came out to a still whopping 21 dollars. I became indignant!

Then Tina Fey told me how the tube I bought was actually BIGGER than the one I saw on display. Then I opened the one I purchased only to discover that there was also an eyelash comb in there. Don't ask how the mechanism worked but it also turned out that the lipstick had to be applied with a small lip brush. I started flipping out on Tina Fey and how she was taking advantage of me, how my husband was not going to appreciate a 20 dollar lipstick and how not everyone is a goddamn TV star who can afford this shit. I guess I got so worked up that the dream switched.

I was then living on the same street of my old apartment that I lived in before marrying Todd. Except it was more like a horse stall, or like a dressing room, sitting on the sidewalk than anything else. I was trying to change into my gym clothes but there were no ceilings and the walls weren't very high and I just felt awkward.

Anyways, I guess the moral of the story is to get lots of rest and not go swimming til 4am on a Saturday night. It's a bizarre feeling, waking up with a mysterious, irrational anger towards Tina Fey.

I still want that lipstick from the display case!

Blargity Blargity Blah

So I was going to totally make cauliflower crust pizza last night, blog about it, and just rejoice in my stellar awesomeness. But this week was a little messy from me taking Tuesday off from work in an effort to keep pretending I was on summer vacation thanks to Memorial Day. Instead of doing a lick of housework on Tuesday, I sat around watching What Not to Wear all day. I mean, seriously, all day long. Anyways, I worked Wednesday to make up for it which means yesterday looked like this:

Wake up with Alex.

Watch Sesame Street with Alex, while we ate our own yogurts, thinking Oh God I have so much to do today.

Get off my ass and start the laundry, while Alex whines about Elmo being over. I finally convince her to
COME HELP MOMMY CARRY LAUNDRY and she then goes OMG OK YAY

Laundry is now in my life for the entire day, always in the background, always waiting, always judging. The last load, the kitchen mat, the doormat and the bathroom mat, gets removed from the dryer in the last segment of Wheel of Fortune (6:50pm).

Do the dishes while listening to Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong, music that Alex is SO STOKED about omg she danced the whole time. Fill the dishwasher, put in the Lemi Shine, ask Alex to close the door and push the button (this is a recurring theme today by the way), then do by hand the sinkful of dishes that did not fit, which always harshes my mellow. Clean the counters, stovetop, microwave cart.

Run around dusting the house, with Alex following me screaming ME HELP YOU? I DO IT, ME HELP YOU? I let her do the lower tables, which is me helping her man the swiffer while she is trying to wrench it from my grasp so she can go dust the cat.

Polish the table, TV buffet stand thing, and the 100 year old coffee table from Todd's side of the family, a drawer of which I will later break while finding a hair tie for Alex.

Vacuum the goddamn dog hair with the shop vac. Alex must turn on and turn off the shop vac, so if I forget, she freaks out. Oh toddlers, WHY YOU SO CUTE. Although it is super sweet that she wants to be a part of things, so in the long run, it's totally worth it. Although pushing the button is the only fun thing about dragging a shop vac around the house.

Vacuum the four area rugs. Marvel at the dog hair, the dust, the filth that accumulates in a mere seven days. Alex, however, rallies and follows me, ready to push buttons. Which, really, isn't that true of all toddlers?

Stand back, panting slightly, realizing Alex woke at 9am and won't go down til 2pm. We still have two and a half hours. What should we do?!!?

Fill the kiddie pool! Play with bubbles! Water all the plants, hook up the sprinkler for the patch of sad Tucson grass. Spray the dog. Eat popsicles with Alex and pick up dog shit.

Eat lunch! Alex eats a stick of cheese and then runs around. The cat bites her head while I'm shoveling salad in my mouth. Go smack the cat away, hold Alex while she eats all my tomatoes. Convince her to finish her turkey and crackers.

Now what?! We still have over an hour to fill. Since I'm combining my chore day and Alex's fun day, I decide to tie a noose around my energy levels, and take Alex to the park. She still has her sunscreen on from pool hour (ok, 30 minutes), so let's go! Let's sweat and feel cranky!

Go hit up the swings and one slide, which honestly, really surprised me. Once she went to the park when all the slides were baking in the sun and too hot so now every slide is a dude in a van with a mustache and a handful of candy. But this time, she did it!

Now we head to the store since we are out of eggs. I get a basil blant and some wine too because fuck it I am so tired and it's not even 2pm. Not that I open it up until 8pm but still. Alex gets stickers and whispers "thank you" and then, in the car, freaks out when they are sticking to her hands, like they do every time, impeding her immediate demolition of her first fruit pouch of the day.

Finally, we are home, in our nice, half-clean, but super cool and dark home. Alex goes down for a nap. I am exhausted but still need to sweep and mop and fold laundry and cry myself to sleep.

Sweep. Mop. Eat half a carton of cherry tomatoes while dicking around on the internet. Todd comes home and I realize oh God now it's time for me to swim laps at the gym. Alex wakes up. I hug and kiss everyone, and drag my ass into the hot car.

Swimming! Yay! I finally get back into my old tri-trainig mojo and beat out 2,040 yards in 40 minutes. Plus the gym finally, finally, stopped heating the goddamn pool so it was actually refreshing.

Come home. Make Alex dinner which I take tiny bites of. Fold laundry while watching Wheel of Fortune. Finish the laundry. Remember I never cleaned the bathroom sink and counter so do that while managing not to sob.

Walk the dog. But before I do it I have to jimmy rig a second leash for Alex since she FREAKS OUT whenever I take over control of the leash because hey, I do not want Patton to rip her ARM off when he sees another dog. Anyways, it's cute and it works and Alex has all sorts of pride and stature now.

Come home, run her tub. Join her for a bath and then shower to wash my hair. Get myself together. Todd is done with kung fu now so I stagger into the kitchen to "start dinner" while he takes care of suiting her up for bedtime. "Start dinner" really means hold my face in my hands thinking about making a cauliflower crust pizza from scratch and how it's already 8pm and hey, remember that red wine? Yeah, so do I!

I tell Todd I'm ordering pizza. He enthusiastically agrees to this plan. We put Alex to sleep and then sit on the sofa and I thank the good Lord for Pizza Hut because hell no I am not going back in that kitchen unless it's for another slice of thin crust or another glass of wine or BOTH.

So, you know, sorry I couldn't blog about that epic homemade health nut pizza. I will be thinking twice before I exchange my chore day for a holiday day in which I do nothing because while I love Stacy London and Clinton Kelly, they are not worth it, plus I already dress like a boss so whatevs.