car-tastrophe averted

Yesterday while chatting (okay, so what if we were aggressively trading jabs and insults) away with my bro, T shoves my cell in my face, "Dad wants to talk to you." I finally get to his call only to discover that he is broken down on the side of the road in TOWN. This isn't the first time Mitchell's vehicle (used to be mine way back B.C.)has taken a dump on him. But this is the first time it will take me over 50 minutes to retrieve him. Vomit. Pile the kids into the car and make the trek. As usual the girls are going ballistic in the back seat the entire ride. And yes, I eventually resort to reaching my arm into the back seat and swinging it wildly back and forth, determined to hit anything that squeals. Of course this does no good. By the time I find Mitchell, I'm disgruntled. Pull up behind my lovely husband, who is sitting in the car looking equally disgruntled.

"Have you called the emergency roadside thingy?" "No. We have to get the car off the road." I look around. The car has stopped on a soft, gravel shoulder. The nearest parking lot or empty lot is a good 800 ft uphill. "How are you and I going to get the car off the road? Did you call for a tow truck?" I'm starting to get that crazed, anxious feeling. "I don't want to call a tow if it's just the battery. We just need to get it off the road, otherwise it'll get towed."

At this point, I'm getting hostile so I stay silent. I look at my clueless spouse with an expression I hope is pleasant, and if not that, than at least hostility-free. After a lot of muttering, he finally comes to the conclusion that YES we will have to call a tow truck. He makes the call and informs me that it will take at least an hour. I barely stop the words from springing out of mouth. Why didn't you call after you called me. I don't get it. So now, we're on the side of a Friday at 6 pm traffic-laden road with two kids who are fighting to the death in the back seat of our only functioning vehicle. In order to keep me from sacrificing myself by jumping into traffic, Mitchell suggests I take the girls to Target until the truck comes. I leave rubber as I cross 3 lanes of traffic to make it into the turning lane heading toward Target. After a somewhat less horrible hour of cruising the lanes of my favorite superstore, Mitchell calls for me to retrieve him. I check out, as usual the $100 Target rule applies. The next hour and a half is spent running back and forth between the parking lot at Ross and Checker trying to figure out why the car has died. Eventually we abandon the car and drive home. I'm immediately trying to figure out how we're going to manage another car payment. There goes all of our disposable income for the next 5 years. Thankfully, my dad takes mercy on us and drives down to help Mitchell figure out the problem. After about 35 minutes, he has fixed the problem and the little silver bullet is fully operational again. Thank the LORD.

another acquisition

This pretty, pink posy has replaced my old nano. I have been coveting one for quite some time, but my realization that Caroline had a cool, new iPod and I didn't spurred me to action. My brother will undoubtedly be disgusted by my reckless materialism, but it was a need I could no longer ignore.

Yea for me!

touch me not

Please don't hug me. Not hello or good bye. No "How ya doin'?" hugs or "So good to see you". I don't want to stand with you clasped to my breast or vice versa.

Please don't pat my back as you invade my space. No comforting squeezes while your chin is propped on my shoulder. No lingering embraces. No rubbing of arms.

Didn't we just meet? How did I miss that we grown this close?

It's not that I'm not happy to see you. Just no hugs. Please. No hugs.

woo hoo

Here's to the end of another spring break. Driving a backseat full of tearful girls to school, I hummed a happy tune contemplating all I would do once I was finally home sans children. Granted it wasn't as glorious as I'd imagined what with all the toilet cleaning, window washing (thanks pool people) and laundry, but it was done without any once telling me they were dying from boredness or hunger. I love year round school.

tooting my own horn...

And Emeril's too.

Having just returned from New Orleans, I had a hankering for some etouffee. After a little searching, I landed on Food Network's page and good ol'Emeril. I found Crawfish Etouffee, and while I did substitute shrimp for crawfish (those little baby lobster-looking guys are not too easy to find in the desert), it was pretty freakin good.

Brandie Crocker, indeed!

newly acquired

Isn't she gorgeous? She's just arrived.

I am extremely excited to flutter around my kitchen with her.

where i've been

Mississippi River ... This was my first glance. Can you tell there was 90% humidity?

This is on the River Front Trolly after a few drinks. I'm not usually this friendly.

Drinking in the afternoon at a place called Mulate's. Good food; great Bloody Mary's!

Caroline cruisin the streets of N.O.

Excited at the prospect of 4 days of adult company and meals without kids.

In a room waiting for a session to begin, Caroline & Marti begin comparing crusty heels.

Highlights of the Journey:

• Getting about 50 minutes of sleep Thursday night then getting up at 2:30 am to make our 5 am flight
• Enjoying an adult beverage at just about every meal (yes, even brunch once)
• Witnessing Marti & Caroline just a little bit tipsy after an evening of fun
• Walking about 500 miles on extremely poorly maintained N.O. sidewalks & streets
• Eating zydeco meat pies & crawfish etouffee (DEEE-licious!)
• Watching the hotel housekeeper just remake the beds after telling her we were checking out
• Paying for an airport shuttle in advance, waiting over an hour for said shuttle to show up, being told be airport shuttle dispatcher that our shuttle wasn't going to show and that she'd "advise us to call a cab"
  

why i hate the phone company

• 4 separate service calls to our house & phones still don't work properly
• Paying for call-waiting and caller id but it's not currently working
• Needlessly delayed installation of satellite tv by 8 days (Nevermind the tv guy screwed up and didn't actually have to delay installing service, the lack of phone service caused said tv doofus to delay installation)
• Random loose telephone wires dangling from a hole on the side of the house that should be attached but are not
• Changed voice mailbox code without giving us the default code so callers currently receive the following message: "The mailbox number you have dialed is currently full and not accepting messages...." (so what if I'm too lazy to call phone company to get code)

retraction

It has come to my attention that I misrepresented somewhat our new pool.

This is an actual image of our new swimming hole.

I apologize for any expectations that were raised under false pretenses.

red galoshes

I hate this commercial for a few reasons, but the number 1 being the fact that the little girl wearing ridiculous red galoshes steps into her birthday cake with a roomful of adoring adults crowded around applauding her actions.

Is this really the epitome of AMERICAN LIVING? PUKE.

hold on there, pool man

I'm pulling out of my garage this morning at 7:56 and notice a back hoe, a raggedy contractor's truck and several contractor-looking dudes cruising in and out of my side yard gate.

Umm...Hello?

Oh. Hey, ma'am. (Really?)

Can I help you guys? (Of course I realize they're here to work on the pool, but shouldn't they have volunteered that info?)

Yeah. The pool....Working on the pool...

With this, he stumbles back through the front yard, disappearing through the gate. Really?



Highlights of the Pool Man's Visit:

• Watching the tall, skinny one chain smoke while jack-hammering, using an aerosol paint can, operating back hoe, and observing the other dudes install pool plumbing


• Appropriation of cool, banana boat-style, straw hat worker left in side yard


• Having retired neighbor hanging over back fence shouting at pool worker dudes


• Listening to them drill, scrape and hammer into the side of my freshly stuccoed & painted house as if they were trying to come through the wall


• 200 cigarette butts left in back yard after their departure

finally

Okay. It's finally happened. We have moved. In fact, we've been here for a week and a day now. AMAZING. I L-O-V-E it for realsies. We have no furniture yet (mattresses, a couch and a forlorn loveseat are the sum total), but I can't help but wake up smiling each morning, listening to the coyotes make wierd howly-yipping noises outside my window. Yea for me!