Friday, May 29, 2009

6 of One, Half a Dozen of the Other

The good news is that I still have water.

The bad news is that my water heater is, for all intents and purposes, dead.

After 5 minutes (probably less), I was informed that the water heater couldn't be fixed and needed to be replaced. 25 minutes later, the guy left after capping the line, giving me some advice on what tanks not to get, and got a check for over $100. Then I let Guillermo back in, shut the front door, and cried for a couple of minutes because this whole thing is frustrating.

And I managed to mess up some when starting my pot roast this morning, so it might not be as moist and delicious as it should be.

Can it just be June now? June seems to like me. May seems to treat me with contempt.

Does anyone want to give me a new water heater (and pay for it to be installed)?


I'm feeling jittery this morning. I'm not quite sure if it was the energy drink (possibly the caffeine) or if it's waiting to hear about my water heater.

All I know is that I'm shaking a little. And I don't like it.

But I should hear from the plumber soon. And, hopefully, after that, I'll stop feeling quite so jittery.


Thursday, May 28, 2009

It's Not Raining, So Why Is It Pouring?

The other day, Ace discovered something bad, something that we thought had been fixed, but apparently has reared it's ugly head again.

Our water heater is leaking. So, tomorrow, I get to call up a plumber (I already know who I'm calling) and find out how much it will be to either fix the water heater (for now) or to cap of the lines so that we will still have running water (even though it will be cold, which makes me less than happy).

Have I mentioned not liking my house? Because right now, it's a stress inducer. Hopefully, tomorrow, the water heater can be fixed (quickly) and we will have hot water again by Saturday. Hopefully.

Where is that alcohol in the fridge again? Oh wait, I'm just going to watch funny TV, that should be better overall.

I'll update you after I know something.


Monday, May 25, 2009

I Have Large... Tracts of Land

I don't currently have large tracts of land, but I like Monty Python and the Holy Grail (or any of the Monty Python stuff, really).

Instead, today I am going to talk about my large chest.

I've been noticing my chest more and more recently. I don't think it's growing, I just think it's currently holding my attention. My correct bra size (the last time I was fitted, which has been, admittedly, a while ago) is 34H (all natural, because who would go that big? and what doctor would allow it?).

I'm trying to give that a chance to sink in. This means that my chest, at it's furthest point, is 8 inches further than it is right under my arms. It's not surprising that I have back issues stemming from nothing other than getting upright.

While my chest is large, it seems even larger when I realize that the rest of me is fairly small in stature (other than my belly, but it's not big enough to justify those 8 inches). Ace, who is a good deal larger than me, can't cup one of my breasts in just one hand.

If I could share the wealth, believe me I would. I'd be happy with a C or a D cup (D is roughly where I was at when Ace and I got married). I'd like to be able to eat without feeling like I'm going to get food down my cleavage (it's almost inevitable at this point). I'd like to not have to wear a bra almost 24-7 just to have enough support to keep my back from constantly complaining (believe it or not, my back doesn't usually hurt, so the bra thing must actually work). I would gladly give up an impressive amount of cleavage to be able to comfortably wear a button up the front shirt (also, 8 inches of boobs don't stick out, they kind of hang down).

And I know that I could have a breast reduction. My health insurance would probably cover it (most insurance policies do). But, I'm waiting on doing that. I'm waiting for a chance to have children and at least attempt breastfeed each of them. Because to me, all the sore backs, lack of button up the front tops, food in cleavage, and frustration in general about the size of my chest is worth it to try to do something like that for my kids.

Besides, when I do go have the breast reduction surgery, I plan on having the ladies (as they are called in this house... it's been determined that they are too big to be girls) lifted back into place. So, there is that to look forward to as well.

And for now, I'll keep trying to get pregnant, and I'll keep waiting (and wearing my bras).

Saturday, May 23, 2009


As I try to remember him, I find myself failing, a fact that makes me sad but doesn't surprise me. I was only 4 and 1/2 when he died, so there wouldn't be many memories.

I'm talking about my grandfather, someone who is shrouded in mystery to me, as he hasn't been a frequent topic of conversation.

I know that he fought in World War II. I know that he was a Christian. I know that he loved me, and settled me in his lap (which I will always remember as big, even though it probably wasn't that big) and read to me. I know that his children didn't always believe exactly the same as he did and that caused a few arguments.

I know that when I was 4 and 1/2, I had the chicken pox and he and my grandmother came down to take care of me until I was better so my mom could return to work, but instead he died (he wasn't doing well, but he didn't want to focus on himself, but on his family). Only, in my memories, the chicken pox and his death aren't linked. They are seperate events. But then, it was so long ago and I was so little.

As Memorial Day approaches, I find myself wishing that he had lived longer (he was over 50 when my mother was born, so he had lived a long life by the time I came around), so that I could actually remember him. But mostly, I wish that he had lived longer so that I could have thanked him for serving his country and making the world safer for us to live in.

Since I can't say thank you to my grandfather, I'll say it to all the men and women who are serving, and their families. Thank you. I appreciate your sacrifice. I know it isn't much, but I'm proud to call you my fellow American. Thank you for protecting my freedom.

And to everyone else, please take some time to remember someone who has served or is serving this country.

P.S.: Thank you to my other family members who have served and who are currently serving in the military. Your service means a lot to me.

Thursday, May 21, 2009


Earlier, Ace and I were in bed, cuddling and talking. We were both in a silly mood and just generally not being serious.

I said something really strange and silly, and then I said something to the effect of "don't give me a hard time."

Ace's response: "I guess there won't be sex then."

Then we both cracked up for a few minutes.

We need more days where we get all cuddly and silly, as it's great fun.


Sunday, May 17, 2009

Trying to Find Distractions

Today, I tried to find some things to distract myself throughout the day.

My friend, Jenna, is going through a hard time right now, and she had to have surgery today. I distracted myself so that I wouldn't focus completely on that all day long (it didn't fully work, I checked her blog for updates all day and was relieved to see posts up with her seeming to be doing well after surgery).

I did, as good friends should, send her some e-mails of encouragement (and faith), sent an e-card to help cheer her up, and left her comments on her blog, trying to let her know that I care. And I got her to laugh, mainly because when I was up in the middle of the night last night (as I seem to often be), I sent the Bible quote I meant to, but attributed it to the wrong book of the Bible.

I'm hoping that the rest of her May and mine will go much better, and that her physical problems are all corrected so that she only has to deal with the emotional aspects of what has happened.

Jenna, I'm here, willing to listen, if you need someone to pour yourself out to and Joey isn't around (because he has work or school or if you just want someone else to say it all to). And if you would like me to just try to find silly things to send you (or even just more Bible verses), let me know. Anything I can do to help, I'm more than happy to do.

Friday, May 15, 2009

Tonight, The Dog's Name Is Mud

Ace and I spent most of this afternoon both at home and in the living room with Guillermo. Around 9, we went to do our grocery shopping.

Guess who couldn't wait to go to the bathroom while we were gone?

Right in front of where Ace sits, there is now a spot that is being treated to get rid of any stain and any smell. Ace plans on waiting up to scrub the spot one more time, then when the spot is dry, I get to vacuum it (Ace has work tomorrow and should already be in bed).

Why would Guillermo choose the only time he's been alone in a while to do something he knows better than to do?

At least it doesn't smell as bad as it did the last time something like this happened (although, he can't claim sickness as the reason this time either).

Thursday, May 14, 2009


Tuesday, Ace decided that he should reformat his hard drive to try to make his computer work better. After he finished, he remarked that his computer was working a lot faster now, and maybe I should think about doing the same thing. Before too long, he had me convinced, so I saved what I thought was important (except I missed one very important file, but I'm already over it), and reformatted my hard drive too.

Tuesday evening, I spent a good amout of time re-installing some games and Trend Micro (it stops my computer from getting viruses/spyware/anything bad from the internet). I also spent a little while baby-sitting Ace's laptop as he was re-downloading World of Warcraft (seriously, that is a proposition that takes some time, as there have been many, many patches since the latest part came out).

Then, yesterday, Ace and I decided that I should go ahead and install WoW back on my computer. 8 hours later (I told you, it takes time), I was done and we played for about an hour and a half before I was just done for the day (I feel the need to stop at 5 hours, mostly so that I'll move away from my computer and out of my chair for at least a little while).

So, if you want to know why I haven't posted recently, it's because I was busy making changes to my laptop and it kept me rather distracted.

Monday, May 11, 2009

My Wonderful Husband

Yesterday, Ace could tell I was feeling down and having a bad day. So, while he was sending his mother an e-card to wish her a Happy Mother's Day, he found a card to send to me to cheer me up.

This morning, in my e-mail, there the card was sitting and waiting for me.

He just wanted me to know that he loves me.

It helps that the bad news I got yesterday about my grandma was followed up (still last night) about my grandma with good news (she was in the hospital, but she's just got a bug and it isn't something majorly serious). It also helps that he got off work early today and so I've gotten to spend most of the day with him.

My husband, who thinks of sending me uplifting cards when I'm feeling like crying, is the most wonderful husband ever!!! (your mileage may vary)

Sunday, May 10, 2009

The Worst Day

What, if you were in my position (trying, month after month to get pregnant), would be the worst day for your period to start?

The answer, of course, is Mother's Day.

If you need me, I'll be trying not to cry in my bed, wrapped up in a blanket, waiting for Ace to come home from work.

Stupid made up holidays.

Friday, May 8, 2009

Free* Chocolate

Mars company has decided to provide some Real Chocolate Relief (as opposed to fake chocolate relief, I guess). If you go to on Fridays, they will send you a coupon for free chocolate.

They stress that it's free coupons to the first 250,000 people (so, you may miss the free chocolate if you dawdle... and someday I'll stop using slang that's older than I am, maybe). Mars is doing this every Friday (for several months), with a coupon per e-mail address, up to 4 per mailing address.

Now, I'm saying all this because I'm excited about the idea of free chocolate. And I think other people should benefit from this too. So, go get your coupon for free chocolate!


Thursday, May 7, 2009

Here's a Story... as Promised

Sadly, it took a couple of days to think up a story I could tell about my childhood that didn't involve surgery (I've only had surgery a handful of times, but for some reason, those times were sticking out). Instead, I'll tell you of how it took 3 tries to enroll me into 3rd grade.

At the end of my 2nd grade year, my family moved from an apartment to a house. Because this house was far away from my current elementary school, I would have to change schools the next year (I had maybe a month left of school that year, so I finished the year in the same school). So, the time to enroll me comes around and we (my parents and I) go to what seems to be the closest elementary school, only to find out that it isn't the right school. But they are pretty sure school 2 is the right school.

We go to school 2, and no they aren't the right school either. But they know which school is the right school as this isn't the first time they've not been able to enroll a student because it wasn't the right school (I'm not sure what the boundary lines were for elementary schools in my school district, but they must have been interesting). So, we drive over to school 3. By the time we're in the parking lot, I'm crying because I've convinced myself that they won't want me either (I was 8, so that may have had something to do with it).

Anyway, school 3 turned out to be the right school. I went there for 4 years and loved the school. But I still kind of shake my head over the fact that it took 3 tries to find the right school.


Monday, May 4, 2009

Don't You Love Old Stories?

When I was around 4 (see, it's an old story... 24 years old), I had to have tubes put into my ears (from lots of ear infections, which had blocked up my ears). While they were doing that, they took out my adenoids. I'm not sure why my adenoids had to come out (something to do with me snoring?), but out they came. At the time, I was sleeping with a Strawberry Shortcake doll that breathed out a strawberry scented breath (seriously, SS was popular a long time ago). My mother did not appreciate the smell of my breath (from breathing in the strawberry scent and the somewhat nasty smell of the area where the adenoids had been) when she woke me up while I was healing.

In an unrelated story, I currently have a sore throat. If my sore throat were my only problem, I'd actually be sort of okay with the whole thing, but right now I'm feeling generally icky. Ace and I have a lunch date tomorrow with some of his co-workers (with an agreement that they won't talk about work, which I expect to last maybe 5 minutes as it is the biggest thing these people have in common, which should net most of the group free dessert from whoever brings up work first). And when I feel icky, I start disliking being around me as I seem to get kind of whiny. So tomorrow doesn't really look to be all that fun overall.

Anyway, someone cheer me up with a story from when you were young (it doesn't have to be related to disease). And then, when I feel better, I'll try to come up with a better story from my past (one that doesn't involve me feeling bad physically or having surgery, unless you really want to hear about that).


Sunday, May 3, 2009


I was looking at books on Amazon. To be more specific, I was looking at the Humor section (it's under entertainment). To my surprise, not so many flat out humorous books, but books that had some humor in them.

One of the books I came across was called "I Was a Better Mother Before I Had Kids", so I felt compelled to look into it. I read what I was allowed to read (not too much, but enough to know that I might be interested in it). Then I scrolled down to look at the other recommended books.

Why are there so many books trying to offer solutions to problems parents have with their kids? (I know... $$$) And why are so many parents turning to books to solve their problems? (I know... time)

But, I think the most important question is: Why are women still reluctant to admit that they aren't perfect all the time?

I ask because there are times I feel reluctant to admit that. Why does it seem like society at large looks down on me for admitting that I mess up from time to time? Am I blaming society for my inadequacies in dealing emotionally with mistakes and moving on?

Ace never makes me feel like I'm a terrible person because I make a mistake. But I know that I put a lot of pressure on myself to be perfect all the time, something that can never happen. And the times I take that pressure off, I feel so relieved that I don't have to live to an impossible ideal (and interestingly, make fewer mistakes then).

I know that I won't find answers to most of my questions, but at least they are out there. And I'm working on myself by admitting that I'm not perfect, and that I need to remember that more often so I have less stress.

But why is this still an issue?

Friday, May 1, 2009

Computer Problems

Well, my computer was having issues. It turns out that I forgot about my wireless keyboard and an enter key got depressed and wasn't allowing me to do much of anything with my laptop for two and a half days before we discovered the problem.

I feel silly for forgetting about the keyboard, but I Googled for stuck enter key (because that seemed to be the problem), and then remembered that I had a second possible option.

Now that keyboard no longer has batteries in it (something that will probably cause a problem at some point in the future, but there wasn't any other clear option.

On the plus side, Ace and I only had to share a computer for one day. And we both have grown from the whole thing (mainly it reminded us to make sure that we keep all possibilities in mind).

So, now you know of my somewhat embarrassing realization from the past few days.