The Comment Whore in me just needs to hang up her stilettos. Alternative title: Bored? Wanna play a guessing Game ?

I know, I know it's not me it's you... You've found someone else. But I have to say I totally miss seeing you all around. I get sad when I get 3 comments. Not to take away from those of you that did comment, please know that you're the whip cream on my latte, but of late I just have not been able to feed my inner comment whore.

Gah, I know I'm pathetic. Or maybe lame. Or maybe patheti-lame.

Ahem,in keeping with the patheti-lameness I give you this drawing from my daughter J. The first one who guesses who it is gets a million dollars. Ha Ha fooled you I don't actually have a million dollars (didn't you read yesterday's post ?..Oh wait I forgot you fell out of love with me) but I will be so completely impressed with you that I'll bestow big cyber kisses on your cyber arse.

Without further adieu: I give you the mystery drawing (hint:he's a tv personality)

I ask ye, Why oh Why wasn't I born rich ?

Something in me tells me that I was supposed to be born in to wealth. That or I was supposed to marry in to it. Maybe I was even supposed to invent the ped egg or the larger then life remote control and make millions. I just know it was supposed to happen for me.

How do I know ?

Because I could seriously work that lifestyle.

I'm not a stellar housekeeper. Never have been. That must mean I need a maid. I don't have one now but if I was rich I would. I'm sure I'd probably just call her "maid" (a la Karen from Will & Grace) because I'm that rich that I don't need to know servants names.

I can shop like a beast. Sure now, it's to Tar-zhay, TJ Maxx and Ross Dress for Less but I'm quite confident I can very smoothly transition to Barney's and Saks.

My feet, you know the ones that hate me, I'm positive would cease any and all rebellion when slipped in some Manolo Blanics.

Oh and work. Need you even question me there ? I would have no problem whatsoever not working. I'm very good at it now. Very good.

So you can see that it's meant to be for me.

Any millionaires out there want to adopt a 35 year old? I'm kinda short. I could probably pass for your kid, that is if someone was about 100 feet away and squinted really,really hard on a day when the sun was blinding them. It could be semi- believable. Think about it. I'm toilet trained, I can dress myself. I don't talk back. It could be good

Ok then, why don't you think about it and get back to me. I'll wait.

We have our first blog baby!

The lovely Lollie, of online shower fame is now enjoying her role as a new mommy



Her adorable chubby cheeked little guy was born on July 24 at 12:46 p.m at 7lbs 9oz and 20 inches.
I wish Lollie all the best in the world as she falls in love day after day with her new little man.

And congratulations to Annie for correctly guessing the gender and coming closest to the actual birthdate. Annie will be thinking of you all as she enjoys her $15 ITunes card , I'm sure.

Control is Overrated

Most of the time I like to appear as if I'm in control of a situation. I'd like to think that I have the ability to maintain my composure in the most intimidating of circumstances. Levelheaded, cool as a cucumber. That's me.

Except for Saturday

As I sat at a new "shi shi" wine bar in town I felt like I was breaking out in a sweat. I got there half an hour early, which in and of it self is a rarity for me. Especially since I'm not really on time to anything.Ever. I'd taken the bus to Seattle as I knew I'd most likely drink my weight in wine so I arrived earlier then our scheduled meeting time.

I ordered my first glass and waited. She called to let me know she'd be a little late. I crossed and re-crossed my legs, I fixed my shirt and checked the bottom of my shoes and waited, my nervous anctipation at it's peak.

After my second trip to the bathroom I walked out and saw her sitting at the space I'd occupied just moments ago. I tried my hardest not to lose it. I wanted to run and jump on her. But I didn't. I'd like to think I was somewhat controlled when I grabbed her and squeezed her and shouted WM! From then on I'm sure I was a babbling mess.

LOVE.Her! It's taking every ounce of self control I have right now not to stalk her. Dammit why couldn't she have been ridiculously loud, or smelly or something ? Nothing. She's even cuter in person and funny and honest and well none of this did anything to help cure me of my platonic girl crush.

We drank, we talked , we ate, we cried, we sang...what can I say it was more fun then a barrel of monkeys.

And I love that she didn't run away screaming when I asked if I could lick her (thanks Mr. WM for allowing me to get a little frisky with your wife). Yep my friends I was that outta control. Sure it was for a posed photo but that's some serious fabulousity on her part to put up with drunken, crazy me . Particularly when at the end of the night I repeatedly asked her to go dance with me. Repeatedly being the key word. Even after she told me "I don't dance."
Did I tell you I'm a good listener.

Lord help me.

So there you have it. The abridged version of the night. I loved Whiskeymarie as much as I thought I would, got to meet her super cool hubby and generally acted a fool. All that and no one got arrested (unless you count the almost riot on the bus in front of me as I left to go home).

Good times, my friends, good times.

I've loved her from afar now I can love her up close

There are a few bloggers that frankly I would just slobber all over myself if I got to meet.

Whiskeymarie is one of those bloggers.

I'm pretty sure she's funnier then sliced bread. Wait,how does that saying go ?

Well just know that she is the cleverest kind of funny that ever existed , she's totally cute, loves her some wine (we'll get along famously) and she has a way with food that will most likely make her the Next Food Network star.

So yes to say I'm a little excited to meet her tomorrow would be putting it mildly.
If I'm not back on Monday don't send help. I'm probably somewhere very hungover, yet very happy.

Happy weekends my friends, happy weekends.

*Note to WhiskeyMarie- I accept payment in the form of cash or drinks for all the gushing I did over you in this post.

Say bye bye to Worker Mommy

No I'm not stopping blogging. Lets be real here, that would be like asking me not to breathe. No just changing my "name"... a little.
If you've met me IRL one of the first things that you've heard out of my mouth is please whatever you do don't call me Worker Mommy.

I have a confession to make. I rather hate that name. Sure I created it, it was the first thing that popped into my mind when I started my blog. At the time I thought it was fitting. Now, I just think it's lame.

That said, I'm shortening it to WM. Simple, short and didn't require much thought to come up with. Me likey de easy.

Oh and I do have a funny story to share from yesterday but little time to share it. I hope to post it soon but lets just say my 5 year old son is a p.i.m.p.

Off to work I go.

Mwah,
WM

Why stores should just stick to playing Muzak

The day started off normally enough. I intended on making a quick stop off at the store to grab some breakfast and then be on my way.

I found the cereal aisle, grabbed some oatmeal and turned to leave. As I started to head toward the checkout counter I heard an old Stevie Wonder tune from back in my grade school days overhead on the store's sound system. It brought back a flood of memories.

Smiling to myself I decided to stay a bit longer and finish listening to the song. I walked up and down a few aisles singing along quietly to myself and well if you were the shelf stocker in the hair care aisle yes I did wiggle my arse a little. What can I say, I was really feelin it.

As I'm reliving the good old days leisurely strolling down aisles, lawd help me I spotted a 40% off sign in the clothing section and it was beckoning to me. I'd just begun perusing the sale racks when my song ended.
If you're wondering if I left like a responsible person would have done you'd be wrong. Way wrong. It was 40% off and well I my kids have to have clothes.
15 minutes and $42 worth of merchandise later I remembered that it was in fact a work day and I was supposed to be at work in half an hour (but was about 45 minutes away).
Damn that store and their tricky ways. I know they purposely turned that song on to keep me in there and cause me to spend more money.

It couldn't possibly be my fault.

Yes, I know I'm kind of disgusted with myself too.

What saved my life this weekend

Saturday hubby was gone all day. He covered for a co-worker's vacation and then went out with a longtime friend he rarely gets to see. That left me with the twins all day and all night. By myself.
Normally hangin' with the kiddos solo is not a big deal. Except the prior night my saint of a mother offered to keep the kids overnight. Which of course left only one thing for hubby and I to do. And that was to PAR-TAY!

Needless to say I was quite tired when Saturday night finally rolled around . I put the twins to bed and breathed a sigh of relief as I sank down on the couch. No sooner had I managed to get comfortable when I heard little footsteps .

"Who is it?" I called
"Me" my daughter J answered
"and you would be out of bed why?" I asked

Now I'll spare you all the back and forth but just know it took me another 15 minutes to get her back upstairs. She came up with the oldies but goodies such as "I'm thirsty and I'm hungry" and she even busted out with this new little gem "but I forgot how to fall asleep by myself'
until I wanted to rip all my freakin' hair out.

Then I remembered it. The Billy Brown Audio CD we'd been sent . Remember this post ? The one in which I (half in jest) said I could care less about national tv turnoff week. Well shortly thereafter the "Top Kid" at Giddio contacted me and asked if I'd be interested in trying out the Billy Brown audio adventures as an alternative to tv.

And let me tell you Billy Brown saved my life this weekend. Or really it was my daughters life that was saved because I was reaching that point.

Seriously though, the Billy Brown (a talking bear) adventures are fantastic for the 3-7 year old set.
They are unlike your typical monotone books on CD in that each adventure is acted out by professional voice actors . My daughter J totally digs them. And if the stamp of approval from my 5 year old isn't enough you can check it out for yourself via free download .

So there you have it, we survived the weekend virtually unscathed and I accomplished this review which has taken me forever and a day to do.

Yep, feeling pretty good about me right about now.

Uggh it's that time again

No I'm not referring to Aunt Flo (although it is that time too but I'm quite sure that's TMI ) I'm referring to Blogher.

And no I'm not there. Again. Which is particularly irritating because this year it's being held just a stones throw away in Cali. Right near my in-laws. Hell I could have made it a family trip (not that my kids or hubby would have seen me much because I'd be too busy stalking my favorite bloggers partying learning )
I swear I'm going next year regardless of where it's held. I'm making it my mission in life and until that time I think I may stick my head in the sand because the last thing I want to do is read about it from those that are there.

I wear bitter well don't you think.


Happy weekends my friends!

Mwah,
WM

Abuse me ? Oh it's nice to finally know what that sign on my forehead says

Two weeks ago on the train in to work I got socked in the face by the woman next to me.

She'd been a great neighbor up until that point in that she'd slept the whole way. Once we arrived at our stop she turned on me. She woke up confused and not paying attention to what she was doing while trying to untuck her arms from her shirt. Arm number one made contact with my cheek. There wasn't much power behind her punch and she apologized profusely but yes that was definitely a first for me.

Incident number two was on the bus last week, on the way to the train. I decided to sit in the front knowing that my stop was coming soon. A woman with an ass the size of a small country decided to sit next to me and promptly sat on half of me. Now normally I'd be completely empathetic, what with an ass the size of two ,large medium hams I get it. But this chick didn't even say sorry. She simply looked over at me as if to say "move the hell out of my way" and then proceeded to get out her book and read. I wanted to throw down I was so incensed by her rudeness. But I doubt I could have taken her.

This morning a woman fell on me as the train came to a sudden stop.

As if that wasn't enough, my co-worker is at it again. She's overwhelmed and is giving me the shittiest of her tasks to help out with.
I've asked what it is that is causing her to be so overwhelmed and still don't get it. Before she did her job, I did her job. Why she's not a fast working,multi tasking superstar like me I'll never know.
But I digress. Ahem, the point is that...
Well now that I think about it a bit more, the point is probably that it's karma. And I'm probably being paid back for some evilshitthatididbutcan'trememberanymore.

Uh yeah ...ceasing whining now.

Teenagers are nutjobs, this and other fascinating nuggets of knowledge learned from the weekend

I don't know who to blame, Hubby or TomGirl. But all I know is somebody asked and somebody relented and my 15 year old stepdaughter polished off a 72 ounce Big Gulp in less then an hour. When she walked in the door Friday evening it was as if she'd just come straight from the crack house. Or Speed house, rather, that is if Speed houses actually exist. She was pacing , walking around in circles, jumping up and down and telling me about her week at warp speed. Hubby and I kept looking at each other in a "stop-the-ride-I-wanna-get-off" kind of way until we could finally take no more and sent her spastic ass to her room to sleep it off.

Never in my life have I seen caffeine affect someone in that manner. And believe me I would know. I have a Diet Coke habit that takes me through a 12 pack and a 1/2 in one week.... sometimes more.

The following day when TomGirl had returned to her normal self the fam headed to a local fair at which she begged and begged for money for a henna tattoo. When again certain people relented TomGirl came back with a tattoo with her boyfriend's intitials. Her boyfriend she's been dating for ,oh, 2 days.

See, I told you teenagers are nutjobs and I suppose if I wasn't such a nutjob myself I'd have been much more annoyed.

My son,B, who recently realized that he was "older" then his twin sister by 2 minutes thinks it gives him license to do things older people do. "Mom," he said to me Saturday (and with a very serious face I might add)"since I'm 2 minutes older can I unplug the fan and plug it in in my tent". And with the strength of mule, I succeeded in not cracking a smile when I told him "Nope, nu-uh, no-way, you need to be a little bit older then 'two minutes' to be touching plugs". He also now refers to his twin sister as his little sister. Hmm, maybe 5 year olds are nutjobs too.

Breyers, Fat Free, Double Churn Caramel Swirl ice cream rules the world. And yes I did say fat free...which in effect would seem to defeat the purpose of eating ice cream but mamas gotta try and keep her girlish figure (or get it back anyway) and so I bought it. And well, after Gmail, I might marry it. Either that or just lay nekkid in it for a while. Yep it's that good.

And that, mah friends is the wisdom I gained from my weekend.

I'm so glad we had this time together.

I'm not a writer, I don't even play one on TV * Updated

I've been wanting to write this post for some time after a discussion I had with another blogger about why we blog. With Blogher fast approaching now seemed a fitting time.

As I get out in to the blogosphere more and more I've noticed that many bloggers aspire to be published writers (outside of what they publish on their blogs of course)and I respect and admire that. But me, not so much. I have no desire whatsoever to publish anything. Ever. Besides the fact that I can't punctuate worth a damn I just don't think I possess that creative talent and frankly even if I did I don't think I have the wherewithal to take the time required to actually pen a full length book.

I blog because it's fun (most of the time anyway). It's also,as many of you can attest to quite cathartic. As my subtitle suggests, this is my attempt to preserve my sanity one post at a time. I love that on this blog, I can be real, I can let it all hang out, I don't have to be some professional, stuffy workplace version of me. I can just be me. What you see on this blog is what you get. I don't pretend to be someone I'm not.

In blogging, I've also found a great sense of community. Sure there are cliques which I don't get. I thought we'd all left that kind of thing back in high school but ultimately, I think we're all there to support one another. Some of the most amazing words of encouragement I've received when in need have been from individuals I've never met IRL. That to me is incredible and wonderful and crazy all at the same time. I wouldn't trade it for the world.

I love blogging, just to blog, not as a means to anything else. That's not to say if I was propelled in to bloglebrity status and was then able to quit my job and blog full time I wouldn't jump at the chance. But I'm quite alright knowing that the chances of that are infinitesimal.

So what was my point you might ask ? It's not to insult or demean anyone who blogs as a means to acheiving a larger writing goal it was merely to state that I am not one of them.

I blog for fun and nothing more.

Tell me something why do you do it ?

*Updated to add- If you are a blogger that aspires to be a published author do you think that those of us that aren't writers cause you to not be taken seriously. Do tell. I wanna know! Oh and feel free to go anonymous if it means you'll be truthful.

Some things are better left Unworn

When contemplating whether or not to wear that claw clip I have but two words - eh eh.

I know what you're thinking.

You're thinking, who's she to criticize anyone?... Like she's all that.

Well I might tend to agree with you. I am after all just your average female. On most days I can barely get it together enough to slap on make-up before work and some days I might even fall victim to my inner frump. But having said that, let me say now that I know better then to ever wear a claw clip anywhere on my head. They served their purpose back in 1983 and I thought had been buried in a time capsule somewhere for our great grandkids to laugh hysterically at while exclaiming "What was that old bat thinking?"

But in a crazy turn of events I spotted one today. And I'll be durned if it was not perched atop the head of someone who- well poor thing just didn't have a clue.
In her defense though the bright yellow clip did match nicely with the bright yellow cloud shapes on her dress. A dress which I can only liken to an explosion in a crayon factory. Damn me for not having a camera phone.

I know, I know I'm horrible. I'm going right straight to hell. I'm not passing GO, I'm not collecting $200 . I'm just going.

But I'll be damned if I'm not taking all yellow claw hair clips with me.

And so as not to make me feel like the overly hormonal,snarky be-atch that I've portrayed in this post it's your turn...what clothing item or accessory gives you the absolute heebeejeebees ?

Woo Hoo! Lookit Me

I'm over here today.

Stop on by if you care to read about keeping little germies at bay during travel and if you want to know the grossest little fact about swimming pools. Ever.

Mwah,
WM

When marrying web based email programs becomes legal, Gmail, I'm getting down on one knee

Sure Gmail is efficient, has humongous storage capacity and lets me chat as much as I want but no that's not why I want to make Gmail my betrothed.

It's because Gmail is so "intuitive". When I send an email about baby showers you offer me little nuggets of goodness by way of sponsored links that tell me where I can find baby shower games online, or just the perfect shower gift. Oh how I love how you love to make my life easier. You understand that I'm a busy woman, you get me. And that is important in a relationship.

I'm sorry to have tested you earlier, but sometimes I worry that you are too good to be true. So no, I don't really want to be a stripper . But hey thanks for the link to the stripper clothing sale. If I do reconsider my career, I may look in to the dis-robing arts because hell, I might actually look halfway decent in those patent leather, thigh-high platform stilletto lace up boots and at 40% off - how could I resist! ?

And I'm ecstatic that when I asked if I had a big arse you effectively dodged that question instead pointing me in the direction of a website in which I can make custom jeans that will flatter my butt. Good lookin out, G!


And most importantly , I'm happy to know you will not cheat on me, all I need to do is head over and purchase some of that monitoring software you hipped me to and I'm golden.

Gmail , you rule , you rule like no other has ever ruled before. I now know we were meant for each other

But I do have one small request and please don't interpret this as disrespect because obviously I'm smitten w/you.

But please, enough of the spam recipes already ! Sure I may have eaten spam as a kid (In fact more times then I care to mention). But I think you get a sense of who I am and that's certainly not a woman that wants to make spam hashbrown bake or spam and spinach tortillas.

So you work on that little, itty bitty teensy weensy thing and I promise we're headed down the aisle tomorrow (sorry hubby, bigamy be damned)