Why I Am THE: Worst. Wife. Ever.

So...I could brag to you all about how brilliant I am for successfully smuggling booze onto the cruise ship. (Not so much really. I'm actually the dummy because I was the only person who even bothered to hide it - everyone else just put it in their suitcases.) I could tell you the fun story about how some poor, pathetic, newlywed bridezilla was so bitter that she felt the need to bitch me - me of the I've-just-had-40-beers fame - out for saying something about Gator football games to her dad. WTF? I could tell you how I really wanted to go outside this evening and bludgeon the teen that was riding the jacked up motor scooter around and around and around and around the block. Sounded like a two-seater plane buzzing my house every 2 minutes. I could tell you about the job I impulsively applied for, and how I am scared that I did it. I'm scared if I don't get it. I'm even more scared that I will get it. I could tell you all about how I am getting really, really worried about how I seem to be forgetting stuff lately. A LOT of stuff. Stuff that happens one a week like soccer practice. Stuff that happens every year.

But instead, I'm going to tell you why I am the worst wife ever. My husband is the best. Best father in the world. Handsome and in great shape. Utterly patient with me. Doesn't make me get a job. Doesn't seem to mind too much that I'm overweight. Lets me go on cruises - or pretty much wherever I want - whenever I want. Is sweet and fun and smart and noble. I honestly could not ask for anything more - he is the total package.

So here's how I thank him: I forget St. George's Day. (I can't get the damned link to insert, so you'll have to copy and paste the old fashioned way: http://www.ctspanish.com/festivals/stgeorge.htm) This is a little tradition he started years and years ago, while he was in Grad School. He had a classmate from Spain that told him about St. George's Day. Since Valentine's Day is Bart's birthday, he always felt I was getting a little cheated. So he started St. George's Day. Obviously, that first one 13 or 14 years ago, I didn't participate in from a giving standpoint. But every single year since then, we have surprised each other with little gifts. Usually there's a book (in the St. George's Day tradition), and sometimes more. We never, ever discuss St. George's Day. It's just always our little special thing that we do to surprise each other every year. Every year since 1996.

And I forgot.

It's in my calendar - April 23rd, in red ink. Not that I should even need a calendar - I know this date. So imagine what a complete heel I felt like when he walked in - after a 14 hour business trip, no less - and presented me with my St. George's day gift. A book. And a Vampire book at that.

I am literally crying as I type this - that's how awful and shitty I feel. He's so awesome and I suck. He does everything for me, and I can't even remember to appreciate him enough to get him a little something on our one special day.

He's probably read this and tell me how silly I am and how it doesn't really matter. But I know it does. I know it would to me if I was on the other end. So all I can say is "I'm sorry. You deserve much better. I love the book, and you too."

I gotta go get some Kleenex now - the front of my shirt is all wet.

Subterfuge

This is my new favorite word - "subterfuge." I like it because a) it applies to my activities at the current time, and b) I spelled it correctly without having to look it up (a big accomplishment for a mush-headed mommy...), and c) I knew what it meant, even though I probably haven't heard the word in forever.

It is likely only a temporary replacement for my other two favorite words: "chipotle" (which Bart says isn't technically an English word, and therefore doesn't count), and "maelstrom", which not only looks and sounds cool, but is actually a cool thing.

Anyway, back to the subterfuge...

I am leaving on a cruise tomorrow - 3 nights and 4 days to the Bahamas. 8 girls, no husbands, no kids. It should be interesting. It could be dangerous. What clothing to bring has been a primary concern of mine. My other primary concern - and this will be no surprise whatsoever to anyone who knows me well - is how to sneak alcohol on board the ship. It's not that I can't afford the drinks on board. It's that I don't want to pay for them. And there's the whole thrill of the can-I-get-away-with-it aspect. So the research has been underway.

I actually got the best idea from someone at my hairdresser's place. So now, here's what I have:

A still-sealed-in-the-plastic-shrink-wrap package of 4 bottles of orange Vitamin Water. What's actually in the Vitamin Water bottles: 2 have straight up Mango Margarita mix, and the other two are half Mango Margarita mix, and half tequila. (The chick told me how she did it with water bottles and vodka. You carefully stretch the plastic shrink-wrap out a bit, and slide the bottle carefully out. Replace the water with vodka, then close the bottle back up, and slide it back into the wrap. The wrap looks a tiny bit stretched, but it's not anything that wouldn't occur under normal shipping and stocking circumstances.) I also have an entire bottle of Cuervo Gold split up into 2 zip-lock bags, which are in bigger zip lock bags, which are in bigger zip lock bags. Those are layered within a folded beach towel. I'm considering taping $5 bills to each alcohol item, in the event someone actually opens them up to look at them.

So, I'm going in with the assumption that they will confiscate my alcohol. If they do, I'll mooch some off my friends (there are 8 of us, and we're all sneaking booze. They aren't going to bust ALL of us!), or I'll just buy it. That's why God created credit cards.(insert sound of husband falliong out of chair here.) If they don't, then WOO HOO! Free drinks and I can post a soon-to-be-famous video on booze smuggling on YouTube!

I gotta go make sure my zip-lock bags aren't leaking tequila all over my clothes. Wish me luck and Bon Voyage. I'll see ya on the other side!

The Library?

What is with the Library these days? or rather, what is with the kids at the Library these days?!?

I loved the Library as a kid. I could spend hours reading books, looking at books, and listening to books being read. I even remember where both of the branches near my house were. Now that I'm a pseudo-adult, I still love the Library. One reason is that I still love books. Another reason is that although I still love books, I'm too cheap to actually buy those books unless I really, really, really love them. Seriously, though. How cool is it in this day and age that there is a place that will let you take home books for free on basically what is the honor system? You check it out, you read it. If you love it, you renew it and read it again. If you really, really love it, you return it and then go buy it. It's like test driving cars - you get to see if you like it first before you commit to a purchase.

It's always been my hope that my kids would love the Library too. Things look good with Karlin, seeing as we practically have to pry books out of her hands just to get her to eat or take a bath. Chase is intrigued too, and reads more than he thinks I know about.

My normal routine is to seek out the books I want on-line, and put a hold on them. When they are ready, I go check them out. The guilt seeps in, though, when I remember all my trips to the Library as a child. So I wait until after school, and take both kids to the Library. I pick up the 5 books I have on hold for Karlin while Chase hangs in the kid's library, and Karlin checks out the Juvie section. I run back and pick out two travel books on the Grand Canyon (in preparation for my 40th Birthday hike-to-the-bottom-of-hell-and-back-out-the-other-side-trip) and two dog training books (yet another effort to find some way to control the drooling smelly animal that is ruining my backyard.) When I get back to the Kid's Library, where do I find both kids? AT THE DAMNED COMPUTERS. Chase is playing some retarded-looking Barney alphabet game, and Karlin is playing on the Webkinz site. I was pissed. We have a computer at home, for crying out loud. Why do they even need them in the Kid's Library? In this day and age of PS3s and Webkinz and Ipods, do kids really need anymore reasons to NOT find books interesting?

So I tried to let them finish their stupid games while I perused my Grand Canyon book. But I couldn't concentrate because there was this lady in there with a wailing 3 month old. And I mean screaming at the top of her little baby lungs. For more than 15 minutes. I couldn't believe mom wouldn't, oh, I don't know, step outside or something until she could get that baby asleep. The doors to the Kid's Library were wide open, so it could easily be heard throughout the entire Library. (The branch right near our house is only 2 years old, and they put an interior Children's Library inside of it with sound-proof glass walls and doors. Great idea, right? Kids can be seen, but not heard! Unfortunately, the Library staff has some freakish aversion to closing the doors. I even asked them to once, since the doors to the Children's room is right next to the exit door, and the exit door is a motion door that leads right out to the parking lot. Chase used to dash and I thought it would be, oh, I dunno, safer if the kids didn't have immediate access to traffic? They wouldn't close it. Said something ridiculous like "it disrupts the air flow.")

So after 15 minutes, I checked out all of our books (I did force Chase off the computer and told him to go choose at least 4 books - he went to the 1st shelf and pulled off 4 books, then went back to Barney) and made my kids get off the computers. Insert pathetic whines here.

I tried to explain to them in my very best Mommy voice that the Library is for books, NOT for computer games. If they want computer time at home, they can ask for it, but we don't go to the Library to play on the ($#&^!*) computers!!!

Under normal circumstances, I could say that I spend too much time on the computer as well, I'm exempt from that lately, though, since I am now in my 4th reading of the entire Twilight Saga. I just cannot get enough of that crap! No audio books, though - I'm reading the real deal.

In the end I am disappointed. Disappointed that my kids don't "big puffy heart" the Library. Disappointed that they think of the Library as a game arcade. And disappointed that I've done such a poor job convincing them otherwise.

Guess I'll have to work on that one a bit. At least until my Sookie Stackhouse books become available.

Followers

Ooo! I have "Followers"! I didn't even know what that was, so I added the "gadget" and voila! "Followers" appear! I feel so powerful. Like Jesus. OK, maybe not Jesus. Who is that crazy motivational speaker guy? Tony Robbins? Maybe I feel like Tony Robbins. Or maybe Billy Graham. People follow me. I have "followers."

Don't worry. I won't let it go to my head. All I have to do is go try on bathing suits and I'll crash right back down to earth. I'm not even that sure that I look better than Tony Robbins or Billy Graham in a bathing suit.

Maybe you guys shouldn't follow too close...

Postscript: I initially had the name "Tony Little" in there, but as my 1 comment shows, Tony Little is the exercise infomercial guy. Tony ROBBINS is the motivational speaker guy. Hope no one stops following me.

Things I Learned While Shopping Today...

In no particular order:

* They don't actually make bathing suits for normal people. You have two choices: the bikini you maybe would have fit in 20 years ago, and the old-lady swimdress. I refuse to surrender to a skirted bathing suit.

* If you happen to find a bathing suit that is even somewhat appropriate, you'll never find one with underwire. Meaning if you have breasts at all, and you have to chase after your kids or your dog or whatever on the beach, you'll most likely give yourself a black eye. That's if those bad boys can even get up that high.

* The same issues that effect your bathing suit choices can also impact the availability of button-down shirts. Unless industrial-strength steel reinforced thread is used, there's no way those buttons are gonna hold.

* They actually sell "Minimizer Bras" (which Bart says are a crime in and of themselves.) Unfortunately, they don't help with the bathing suit/button-down shirt dilemma.

* Girls with a little - or a lot - of back (that means a big butt, as in "Oh. My. God, Becky. Look at her butt. It is so big.")should not wear patterned shorts. This includes the latest cute trend of plaid bermuda & madras shorts. It's just a horrible mistake.

* Girls with short legs cannot wear bermuda shorts. Even to Bermuda.

* Cost does not necessarily correct the bathing suit situation. You will likely look just as shitty in that $109 Land's End Suit as you do the $29.99 one at Marshall's.

* Invariably, when you actually have money to spend, you will not be able to find anything to buy. And when you are flat broke, the world is filled with cute stuff. On sale. Clearance.

* No matter how much you might wish, you cannot actually clothe yourself in purses.

* Sears - of all places - has cute purses. Take a left at the dishwashers, and go past the tools.

* It is possible to go into the dressing room with 15 or more items, and have not even one of them fit. At all.

* In 2009, apparently belts are back in. Someone should inform the fashion industry that I have not worn a belt in 8 years. Even some of the bathing suits had belts - as if I wasn't having trouble enough!

* "Tunic" is code word for "will make you look pregnant if you weigh more than 105 pounds."

* "BoHo" is code word for "tunic that will make you look pregnant if you weigh more than 105 pounds."

* If you are short but weigh more than 105 pounds, you are totally screwed. You weigh too much for "petite" clothes, and noraml clothes - such as polo shirts - fit you like a dress.

* New Orleans has it right. All Malls should be equipped with margarita and daquiri bars on each level. This may help with the bathing suit shopping.

* It's hard to find really cheap shoes these days. Who really wants to spend $30 on a pair of flip flops?

I should have bought a t-shirt that said something along the lines of "I went shopping for 4 hours, and all I got was this purse, 2 too-long polo shirts, and a pair of shorts."

I'm going to get a beer and read "Twilight" again. No one has to wear bathing suits in Forks.