Really people....

It is certainly one of those days here in gloomy Baltimore. I have the next few days off and to be perfectly honest, I don't really know what to do with all of that free time. I know half of people out there would give their left kidney to have four days off in a row, but REALLY PEOPLE. When I don't go to Texas where I have plenty to do (clean, go to soccer with Munchkin and Mr. Hot Pilot, cook, chase the useless cat around the house in hopes she will run away..) I am often left bored out of my gourd.

I came downstairs this afternoon after doing a whole lot of nothing upstairs and found my dog Lucy staring rather listlessly out the front window. The picture above illustrates just how I feel.

Come back spring/summer...this fall crap is for the birds.


Listen all y'all, its a sabotage!

As I have mentioned in the past, I am part of a long distance relationship. Mr. Hot Pilot is a military officer who lives far, far away in (what seems like) a third world country complete with border jumpers, questionable water and absolutely no Target store within a 150 mile radius. Because of this long distance, I frequently (as in every other week) fly the friendly skies to spend time with him and Munchkin. I am lucky enough to work a job where I only have to work 3 days per week, and then have the remaning four days to do with as I please - lounge in bed until all hours of the afternoon, workout (HA!), work from home for my old job, shuttle drugs back and forth across the mexican border and spend time with my boys. On the weeks that I shuttle drugs back and forth go to visit my boys, I try to maximize my time with them by flying out of BWI as early as humanly possible on Monday and flying back in as late as possible on Thursday in order to drag my butt back into work on Friday morning.

In addition to my maximization of time, I must also note that I am a master procrastinator. Because of my earning a higher education in procrastination, I tend to leave my packing to the night before or the morning of my flight.

On my most recent trip to the little border town Mr. Hot Pilot affectionately calls home, I woke up before the butt crack of dawn could even be seen, and began getting myself ready. Now I don't live in an old house by any measure, but sometimes even in the most well maintained houses, you run into plumbing issues.

My plumbing issue was with my toilet.

I'm sure you would love to hear a story about how I clogged the toilet and caused serious carnage, however this is not the case. Instead I just gave the toilet a slight sideways glance complete with an early morning yawn and the darn thing overflowed.


Being that it was too freaking early in the morning for me to drag out a mop and clean the mess, I decided to do the next best thing and throw my used towel onto the toilet water that had collected on the bathroom floor and call it a day. I then shoved the towel behind the toilet to collect any straggling water and left for my flight.

I had a fab four days in Texas with my guys complete with high-larious moments with Munchkin and lots of smooching with Mr. Hot Pilot. I then returned home late Thursday and crashed in bed.

The next morning I awoke to get ready for my weekend at work and noticed my fresh and clean towel that is normally hanging on my bedpost was missing. I walked into the bathroom to see if I had left it there prior to my trip and found a similar towel hanging neatly on the towel rack. "Ok" I thought, "someone must've hung my towel up for me, sweet!" When I got out of the shower, I took that towel off of the rack and began drying off my face and body. And then it hit me like a homeless redneck hits their crack pipe.

The Funk.

This was no ordinary neatly hung towel. The funk eminating from the towel told me as much. This was the towel I had used just four days earlier to mop up TOILET WATER. I had been drying my face with TOILET WATER. And I don't care what state of clean the toilet that that water originated from is...all toilet water to me means one thing.

Poop water.

And I knew the culprit to my poopy facial. My dear old dad.

I quickly jumped back into the shower for a scalding, soapy, de-contamination and then ran like a fool downstairs to confront the evildoer. I discussed the present situation with my mother who found it to be all sorts of insanely funny.

She then passed the word on to my dad who told me that he just thought that I must like to RANDOMLY LEAVE CLEAN TOWELS ON THE FLOOR and hung it up for me. (Turns out my mom had taken my previously fresh towel and thrown it into the wash while I was away.) I was sure I had been set up.

When I pressed for a bended knee promise to pay wads of cash for pain and suffering an apology, this is what I got:

Dad : "Sorry, but if its any consolation, I read somewhere that people are paying big bucks for bird poop facials".


For your culinary delight

It was a lovely fall afternoon so I decided to take a walk to my favorite burrito joint "California Tortilla" as I have previously mentioned here with regards to a near neck stab. While I was waiting for my beyond awesome burrito to be crafted, I decided to peruse the vast array of hot sauces that were available. Because I do have a rather interesting sense of humor (to say the least) I found these which of course just made my day complete :

If of course you happen to be just as intrigued as I was over these culinary masterpieces, you can find ordering information via the following links :

1 - See Dick Run (also available in See Spot in Heat)
2 - Rectal Rocket Fuel
3 - Ass in Space



It's that time of year again. The time of year when those of us who don't have any biological children of our own decide to lumber over to the local mass-production department store in search of something for which to adorn our little dogs, cats or any other furry warm body we can find. Its time to dress up our defenseless family members in the most ridiculous get-up we can muster and parade them around until they are ready to plan your death late in the night when you are sleeping and they can get a good hold on your juggular.

Now of course I have Munchkin now however unfortunately I will be up in frigid Baltimore while he and Mr. Hot Pilot do the halloween thing down south without me. Sigh. So I have to attack the next best thing with my slightly twisted sense of humor and dress up my dog, Lucy. Last year I hit the mother-lode with a Princess Leia costume, complete with the Cinnamon bun hairpiece and white robe. She hated it.

I wanted to come up with something to top the awesomeness of Princess Leia and saw online that there was a Princess Leia "slave girl" (from the Jabba the Hutt movie) but alas it was unavailable in any stores near me.

So dear readers, the moment you have been waiting for....

And of course since no one in their right mind wants to be caught wearing a freaking chicken costume, when someone comes outside to investigate the rather large sqwak-ing dog, violent measures must be used in order to preserve one's place in the food chain :

And there it is...the look of "I'm going to put a pillow over your face and cut off your air supply while you sleep" :

What's in a name...

My friends and I were sitting around the office discussing crazy baby names when of course the requisite story of the name "Chlamydia" came up and we wanted to see if anyone had ever named their child this name which at first glance seems to describe a delicate flower. Here is what we found :

"When naming your baby Chlamydia, it's important to consider the gender of the name itself. When people look at the name Chlamydia, they might ask the question, "is Chlamydia a man or a woman?", or "what is the gender of the name Chlamydia?" Some names are more gender neutral than others, and some names are more strongly associated with either males or females. Some spelling variations of the name Chlamydia might be more popular than others. The Baby Name Guesser can answer all these questions about the name Chlamydia. To find out more about Chlamydia, Baby Name Guesser uses up-to-date data from across the Internet on how the name Chlamydia is actually used."

Looks like I found a name to add to my future baby name list.


Enough to make me wet my pants...

After spending lots of time with my munchkin, I realize just how amazingly funny he is. Kids really do and say the funniest and silliest things with a reckless abandon I could only dream of having.

I went to pick up munchkin from school today and of course asked how his day was. He began prattling off about the monarch butterflies and then proceeded to tell me all about the "goosebumps" show he had watched the previous weekend with Mr. Hot Pilot. When we got home we pulled out all the work he did in school the previous week, and included was a little book called "all about munchkin" where each of his classmates answered questions about munchkin such as his favorite food and what he wanted to be when he grew up. I was asking him I'd he was friends with the kids (he is as he is very personable). He said yes to each child except for one little girl named Ana. When I asked why she wasn't nice (his words) he said very matter of factly "she drew a picture of me peeing on the ground, and then got a yellow light from the teacher.".

I couldn't control the eruption of laughter that followed.

We then discussed what he wanted to be when he grows up. When I asked him he said "an astronaut and a comet" without blinking an eye. I of course asked him if he knew what a comet was and he said "yeah, a shooting star", his face saying "like, DUH!".

Between his fart jokes and his little matter of fact blurbs, my munchkin keeps me in stitches.

Never a dull moment. I wouldn't have it any other way.


Climbing up onto my soapbox

I'm sure many of you remember the tragic Amish school shooting that happened around two years ago this month. This was something that chilled many to the bone and terrified others. Many of you also I'm sure have fresh in your memories the tragic crash of "Trooper 2" here in Maryland last month. Both tragedies hit close to home and both you will see are somewhat interconnected.

After the recent crash of our state medevac chopper, the Maryland State Police have come under close scrutiny by the National Transportation Safety Board and the FAA. Suddenly, even after having 90,000 accident free flight hours under their belt, lawmakers want change. One lawmaker in particular who has a vested interest in a private medical helicopter company, Medstar.

Sen. John C. Astle would like nothing more than to see our renowned state run medevac system become privatized. What happens when privatization occurs you ask? If privatization were allowed to occur, Mr. Astle would be making beaucoup bucks with each flight completed by Medstar Health. This would also mean that the once free transportation service offered by the Maryland State Police helicopters from crash scene to hospital would now cost the patient or their insurance company money. Certain private medical helicopter companies would also be more likely to fly patients to their own facilities, i.e - Medstar medevacs would be more likely to fly to a Medstar health facility. Not such a bad thing you think? This is where the Amish school shooting connection comes in to play.

Back when the shooting occurred, several medical helicopters flew in to transport the critically wounded children to trauma centers. What many didn't know was that there were two instances where privatized medical helicopters failed those children. One little girl was loaded onto a Medstar chopper and FLEW OVER a close by pediatric trauma center in favor of a Medstar health center which was further away. To add to that, the chopper actually STOPPED FOR GAS along the way. Another little child bled to death on the way to a Medstar facility after flying over the same pediatric trauma center. Would that child have been saved if they had gone to the nearest pediatric trauma center? Who knows. But there is always a possibility. (Think of the Golden Hour theory which was pioneered by R Adams Cowley himself.)

I will let you pick your jaws up off of the floor.

My point here is that privatization isn't necessarily the way to go. With our state medevac choppers, the flight paramedics and pilots fly to the most reasonable facility whether it be the closest due to time or to our trauma center due to our expertise on head and spine injury. THEY DON'T CHOOSE WHAT IS BEST FOR THEMSELVES, THEY CHOOSE WHAT IS BEST FOR THE PATIENT. And that my friends is the difference.

Time to climb back down off of my soapbox. It is so sad when a system that is copied closely in other states due to its great efficacy is now being slammed and lambasted. Interesting though how it is lawmakers with a vested interest in a private helicopter company isn't it?

What are your thoughts?


Oh trust me, you care!

In case you were wondering (or even if you weren't) here are a few tidbits of information about me.

1. I actually used to watch that show "The Girls Next Door" about Hef's mentally challenged girlfriends.
2. I firmly believe that show should be directed by Jane Goodall.
3. My name is Carrie
4. You knew that already, but you probably didn't know that it is short for Carrie-Anne, which I was called until I was about 5, at which time my mom figured that she needed to shorten my name for when I got in trouble, so she could pull out the big guns. "CARRRRRIEEEEE ANNNNNEEEE!!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"
5. I have spent many long years making my signature attractive and illegible.
6. I love a good burger.
7. With bacon and mushrooms
8. I actually love meat...
9. I do not, however, eat weird meat (head cheese, tongue, pig feet and the like)
10. I lost 10 lbs on the Atkins Diet once, but it bored the crap out of me.
11. And so I stopped
12. And accepted white bread back into my life.
13. I was raised Baptist
14. Still am Baptist
15. My mother is a youth minister at my church.
16. I am not always very respectful
17. In fact I have a documented problem with authority
18. Officer Stein to be exact.
19. Pulled me over twice in two weeks, and then proceeded to tell me "I know where it is that you live"
20. I have never been fired for being mouthy, but did get laid off for wanting respectable hours for which to go to school in.
21. I am only competitive when it comes to driving on the Baltimore beltway.
22. I have a weird little dog that talks.
23. No, really
24. Just ask anyone.
25. Lucy told my dad whats what just yesterday
26. I finally graduated college (no thanks to my old loser job who didn't want to help a girl out)
27. And I am quite proud
28. Yes, I do understand that I am an uncontrollable dork.
29. I now work in Clinical Research at a rather well known Trauma Center
30. Which has been featured on "Trauma : Life in the E.R" and "Code Blue".
31. Sometimes the ticking of my biological clock wakes me up in the middle of the night.
32. When I was in middle school, I had massive, teased, hairsprayed hair. And gigantic glasses.
33. I thought I looked good.
34. It was only until recently that I got that whole "Star Wars" thing.
35. I have a definite type A personality
36. Watch out if you see me driving in your neighborhood
37. In my sweet blue Dodge Neon.
38. Which is my second blue dodge Neon.
39. I have changed my major about 4 times.
40. Most recently, two years ago.
41. It was only recently that I have started wearing heels.
42. Now that seems to be all that I want to wear.
43. I have always dated short guys.
44. Until now. My hot pilot is nice and tall (and ridiculously gorgeous).
45. I don't like long hair on guys.
46. I like them to be well dressed and clean cut. No tattoos please.
47. My favorite color is green
48. I have owned two Dodge Neons (yep, two)
49. Yes, I know
50. What was I thinking?
51. I obviously wasn't
52. My dream car of the moment is the Volvo S40 T5
53. I hope that my current Dodge Neon lasts me until I have my first child.
54. So I can then buy my Volvo S40 T5
55. I love dogs
56. Don't really care for cats
57. Hate is such a strong word
58. Especially when one says they hate cats
59. I lived in Florida for a year
60. I spent that year figuring out ways to move back home
61. When it was finally time to move home, I didn't want to leave
62. I am a magazine junkie
63. And a gossip column junkie
64. And a Target junkie
65. And I like crack
66. But not really.
67. I am happiest when I am really, really busy
68. I looked forward to the beginning of the school year back when I was a young whipper-snapper.
69. I am of the boomerang generation
70. I have left my parents home 4 times, only to return again.
71. The next time I leave, I plan on it being for good (I think Mr. Hot Pilot agrees)
72. But for now, I am enjoying the money that I am saving.
73. And Lucy likes hanging here with my parents two other dogs.
74. And free home cooking is always nice.
75. Have I mentioned that my dog talks?
76. Just ask anyone.
77. I don't like fake nails.
78. I think they look completely stupid
79. I also think that fake tanning is ridiculous
80. I spend most of my summer rather pale.
81. And what is with parents giving their little toddlers Mohawks?
82. Seriously.
83. I was in the marching band
84. Now lets never speak of that again.
85. But I played percussion
86. Not as nerdy as, say, the clarinet.
87. Which I also played
88. I have a cellphone that I don't really talk much on (unless it is to my aforementioned ridiculously hot pilot)
89. But I have been known to use 3000 text messages in one month
90. I tend to be a bit outspoken
91. After hearing people not washing their hands in the bathroom at work (the lovely job who didn't want to help a girl out with getting her education), I posted pictures of germs, and threatened violence if they DIDN'T WASH THEIR NASTY HANDS!
92. Then someone called OSHA, and they all thought it was me
93. It wasn't. I'm not an idiot. I wanted to KEEP my job
94. But seriously, not washing your hands…sick
95. I will be voting this November. I think it is extremely important
96. I voted for Bush
97. I am very, very sorry
98. How embarrassing
99. It is now 3:05pm
100. I really wish I were in Texas watching my Munchkins soccer game.


A bit of sweetness in a rather bitter world.

It has been one of those days. No scratch that. One of those weeks. Not sure why I feel so blah, but maybe it has to do with the fact that the weather is gloomy, a co-worker at my old pharmacy job was killed by "gun accident" and I really hate it when someone doesn't make it in the trauma bay and you have to hear the grief stricken cries coming from their spouse. It just isn't fair, and it just shouldn't happen. When I first began working in the Trauma Unit, I remember listening to the snarky comments a few of the nurses or residents would say. I remember remarking once "how disrespectful!". I was told that sometimes you have to have a bit of humor in order to not let the tragic cases get to you. I didn't think I would ever agree...but maybe I do. I can honestly say that I couldn't be a doctor as I would never be able to leave work at work and disentangle myself. I am an empathizer through and through and while I try not to let it all get to me, sometimes it just does.

I came across this rather sweet picture and I don't care if it is photoshopped or not, it is just what I need today.

(thanks must go to Mr . James Danziger at "The Year in Pictures" - thank you for your post which brightened my day!)

I hope everyone is safe and cozy in their homes and with their loved ones. I think we should all find those that we love, near and far, and give them an extra "I love you, you mean so much to me". You never ever know when it is time for them to go on to bigger and better things.


Awesome Christmas Cause

With the holidays just around the corner I am always reminded about those who are less fortunate that we are. Because of this, I decided the other day to put together a little Christmas Box for "Operation Christmas Child" by Samaritan's Purse. It is a fun activity for anyone with children (or heck, even those without!) who may want to help in finding things to pack into a shoebox to send to a girl or boy in need.

I actually found alot of great items at my local Target, some items that I might just go back for later to use as little stocking stuffers for Munchkin for later in the christmas season. I decided to fill a box for a boy between the ages of 4 and 7and found a great deal of cool stuff for about $20 bucks.

1 - Find an old shoebox and wrap the lid and box separately in festive paper.

2 - Let the paper fold in its own way, and it will be alot easier to wrap.

3 - Here is your rockin' snazzy finished product :

4 - Now fill it! (This is by far the fun part!)

I filled mine with crayons, Star Wars markers, Star Wars socks, a stuffed dragon, a kaleidascope, a mini chutes and ladders game, a kids toothbrush/toothpaste combo and a Hot Wheels car. Nothing cost over a dollar, and most are pretty cool if you ask me.

5 - Label box with labels you can get off of the Operation Christmas Child website.

Now go to "Operation Christmas Child" website for instructions on where to drop off your finished boxes. You might also want to gather a group of friends or family to put together several boxes for kids.

If anyone else decides to do this project, I would love to hear from you and maybe see some pictures or hear about what sort of items you sent in your christmas package. Have fun putting your boxes together!


At least I'm a block from the hospital

Gen. Perry: About 1600 hours… and I hope to hell you've found him by then.
Mike: 1600 hours? So, like five months from now?

This is a picture I took on my cellphone right next to where I was parked in the parking garage. I feel so safe.


Attack of the face!

Being that I am a girl, I am always on the lookout for the newest and greatest product out there that will make my skin clear, dewy, keep oil at bay, kill blemishes, obliterate my pores AND keep me looking perpetually 15. Basically I am looking for a miracle from God himself sent down in a fabulous glittery package delivered directly to my doorstep. Oh and it has to work immediately. I am desperately trying to acheive flawless skin.

Flawless. That is the one catch word that always gets my attention. Just saying it aloud evokes thoughts of perfect porcelain skin without a visible pore, blemish or oil slick in sight. Put the word flawless in your ad and you are sure to have my attention.

Like every other little kid on the planet, I had perfect skin. No need to wash it everyday as no matter what dirt or grime I got into, my skin still looked as smooth and poreless as a baby's rear. Until of course I turned 12.

It was as though I went to bed one night with baby butt skin and woke up the next morning in the middle of a full blown nuclear attack complete with little red suicide bombers - on my face. It was a pure nightmare. My mother never having had to deal with acne as a teenager was at a loss for what to get me to clear up this little (massive) problem. So instead I went nearly all of my 6th grade year and part of my 7th grade year mopping oil that seemed to be spewing from the Texas oil refineries off of my head. (Just as an aside - why can't they find a way to harness the power of teenage facial oil production for our little oil crisis? Kind of like my idea to give free liposuction to the obese and use the excess fat as an alternate source of fuel...help the obesity problem AND the fuel problem! Just sayin'!)

Finally one day my mom brought home what I had hoped to be the be all, end all. Clearasil. Unfortunately instead of clearing up my skin, it sucked the life out of it, drying it into a crumbly mess that would just slick up with oil the next day, often leaving me with a facial deforming mountain between my eyes (hel-lo one eye!). The little guerilla warriors were winning and the battleground was my face.

Over the next 5 years or so I tried countless things, including coming embarassingly close to trying baby urine on my face. Yep. My mom had a friend who told her that baby urine from a wet diaper cleared acne. I was desperate. I tried egg whites, face masks, pinching, popping, voodoo, prescriptions and prayer. Luckily the older I got the better it became. Instead of all out guerilla warfare, it became more of a cold war. I finally learned the tricks of the trade, such as using oil free moisturizer, Retin-A in the winter (say NO to sun!), Azelex in the summer (also known to get rid of those nasty brown spots I got from sunning myself as a teen in hopes of leveling the playing field) and the occasional round of antibiotics. I still have issues but now have the added joy of beginning to worry about wrinkles.

So now I have to try and kill the little red nazis AND deal with tunnel warfare. But I feel I have found a solution. Being one who loves makeup, I have tried nearly every brand under the sun and hands down I am madly in love with Bare Minerals. It is the only makeup that comes close to making me look like I have smooth, non-landmined skin. I have tried Clinique for blemish prone skin and that is pretty good too, but nothing quite compares to my Bare Minerals. I love that I can buff that stuff on and in 5 minutes flat I have my pimples waving their flag of defeat. No red showing through or anything. I have also taken up using an under-eye cream by Dr. Wexler (Deep Wrinkle Eye Repair) that I like, but seems to be doing more in the moisturizing realm than anything. And did I mention sunscreen. Yep, here I go climbing back onto my soap box. The majority of wrinkles are caused by sun damage. I now wear Neutrogena Anti-Aging facial sunscreen with an SPF of 70. Totally rocks. Just be careful as it will leave a white film if you don't rub it in well enough. I just use that as my moisturizer and put my fab Bare Minerals over top.

I am still on the hunt for the miracle worker when it comes to acne and wrinkles. What products do you use? Thoughts?

My boys

So these are my boys. And this is the look they often get on their faces when engaged in a game of whatever (and I say that because they play anything and everything and its always the same look.)

Posted by Picasa

How to raise an honest Munchkin

As adults and parents, we often find we use the little things in life to try and teach our children (or step-munchkins) how to be upstanding and productive citizens. In other words, we don't want to be responsible for raising the next Ted Bundy, OJ Simpson or some other sort of bottom feeder of society. (Of course if you ARE looking to raise a con artist of some sort, then by all means check out this book)

I like to try and teach Munchkin to have a sense of respect for other people and their belongings, no matter how small or mundane they may seem. To some, that old beat up item may actually be something that brings great joy.

Please imagine my not so gleeful surprise when I came into work today and found my once cool and unassuming "mini-kitty" which once looked like this:

Now looks like this:

As you can see, my once awesome desk prop is now 600 times it's original size. Sigh.

So I did what any person would do, and emailed the office. Here is what I had to say:
Subj : Curiosity killed my cat?


I see that the curiosity of someone over my “grow a pet cat” was too much for them to bear and I found my poor innocent cat drowning in a pool of water on the middle desk of the CCR portion of the office. I have to say that I’m not too happy about this. I like having little things around my desk to add to the fun and by all means if you wanted to grow your own pet, I would have gladly referred you to where you could purchase your own. Granted it might not have seemed like much to the cat-drowner, however the whole thing, package included, added to it's kitsch and I would greatly appreciate either a replacement or an apology.

Thank you to those who enjoyed looking at my little “pet” but respected that it belonged to someone and was here for the enjoyment of all.

P.S – For those who were kind enough to keep their curiosity to themselves, the cat indeed did grow to be 600% of its original size.

(You can find such an item/replacement here.)

So the moral of our story here is teach your kids right in the beginning, and they will grow up to respect the belongings of others and refrain from the drowning of poor, innocent, fake cats.


Cute Attack

From SanAntonio

Seriously. Try not to let the cuteness kill you.


Superhero dreams

Growing up in my home as a kid, the most significant piece of pop culture we were ever introduced to was Superman. My dad was (and is) a huge sci-fi fanatic, collected GI Joes starting from back when they were first produced, and harbored a secret love for Superman, Batman, and anything else of the superhero genre. When I was younger, my dad would take my brother Matt and I up to Woodlawn to go to the DC Comic book shop, where he had a standing order and his own cubby with all of the latest comic book issues. This is the man who hung movie posters of the Batman, Superman and Star Wars movies in our family room. And yes. My mother let him. Rumor even has it that I was named after Carrie Fischer, the actress who played "Princess Leia". (However my mother tells me that it was actually after his great aunt)
A long while back, my dad suggested that we go and see "Superman Returns". As long as he was paying, I was totally game. This was the third time my dad was going to go and see the movie. For him it is more than a comic book made into a feature length movie. It was the perfect metaphor for good against evil, for the complicated relationship between a father and son, for the emotional and spiritual quest every human experiences when trying to figure out why we are here. For him it was the meaning of life.
The first note of the theme song in opening credits gave me chills. I was on the edge of my seat for nearly the entire movie. I guess watching this movie with my dad was a way for us to bond. This was something that I grew up on, and something he was passionate about. I was glad to be able to share that passion with him, if for just one afternoon.
My only question is this. How in the holy heck, after zooming to outer space to save an aircraft full of people, come back through the atmosphere, and carrying that plane to a safe landing, does he keep that freaking curl so freaking perfect? Huh? I would love to know what hair gel "the man of steel" uses. No more bad hair days!

Happy Birthday Mr. Hot Pilot!

Posted by Picasa


Where in the hell is Matt?

If you haven't seen this website yet, you are truly missing out. This bit of awesomeness was passed on to me by a friend at work. Check it out!

Where in the hell is Matt?

If you were me...

You would like:

-Dogs that insist on having the leash in their mouths so they can play tug of war while you take them for a walk.
-Polynesian "crack" sauce from Chick fil a
-Men who say a lightning quick prayer over aforementioned chick fil a before plowing into their food because they have been on some sort of weird "Ghandi diet" for the past two days. So man can't survive on cuddling alone?
(Did you taste that polynesian sauce? Because I was about to inject it directly into my veins.)
-Dipping french fries into a chocolate milkshake (preferably of the Wendy's variety)


A six year old and his boogers

Joel [as Space Girl]: "Kids' brains always taste better when they've been thinking about donuts."

I'm back down in Del Rio this week spending time with my boys. Today was Mr. Hot Pilot's birthday (I'll be sure to post pictures soon!) so I decided to pick up Munchkin from school and take him out to pick out cool stuff for dad. On the way there of course I forgot my wallet and cell phone, so we had to drive all the way back home and then back out to town again, killing some rather precious time. Munchkin is an awesome little guy if I do say so myself. As we were driving, I mentioned that on my way there I had smelled a skunk and it made me think of him.

Now before you go all ape on me, let me fill you in on Munchkin. For some reason, he really likes the smell of skunk. At first Mr. Hot Pilot and I thought he was just being silly but as time went on we realized he just might indeed enjoy the pungent burnt tire smell of a skunk. So of course we got to talking about skunks and other gross things (as he IS a 6 year old boy, come on!). I don't know how many moms and step-moms out there have had the joy of discovering boogers attached to random places throughout your home, but I get the feeling I am not alone.

I gave Munchkin a heads up that his dad had found a yucky booger stuck to the side of the tub and that Munchkin was going to have to clean it when we got home. I look back in the rear-view mirror and I saw a smile spread widely over his lips.

Munchkin : "That wasn't me, that was daddy!"
Me : "Oh yeah? You sure? I seem to think otherwise"
Munchkin : "Haha! It was Daddy!"

So later on as we were driving to dinner the subject came back up about the mysterious appearing booger.

Mr. HP : "Hey Munchkin, you are going to have to clean your booger off the side of the tub tonight, that is just sick dude".

Munchkin : "Haha, no! I don't want to touch that!"

Me : "Oh yeah? You don't seem to mind all of the boogers you have stuck to your wall above your head in your bedroom do you? They are just sitting there ready to fall on you!"

Munchkin : "I know...it's heaven!"...."It's booger heaven!"

Me : "Oh, so they kind of sit there and watch over you while you sleep?"

Mr. Hot Pilot : "Like stars in the sky?"

Munchkin : "Oh yeah! I want to buy that paint stuff and make them glow in the dark!"

He then proceeded to tell us that his tool of choice was his right hand pointer finger, but "he only used that when he was a little kid".

Me : "Oh so are your boogers coming back through a worm hole back in time and attaching itself in Munchkin places all over the house?"

Munchkin : "I don't know..."

Mr. Hot Pilot : "Sick dude."

Then of course Munchkin thought it to be great fun to try and wipe the imaginary booger on Mr. Hot Pilot. Funny thing happened though. As soon as we stepped through the doors of the restaurant, Munchkin waves us off and hushes us by saying "Ok guys, we are in a restaurant. I don't want to hear any more talk about my boogers."

Well at least the kid's got manners.


The perfect combination

If you are an Etsy addict as I have become and you just so happen to live in Charm City (or even if you don't!) you really must check out the Baltimore Etsy Street Team. Here you will find local artisans/jewelry makers/crafters/clothing designers/independant businesses, etc. all in one place.

Those closest to me know that I have a penchant for all things bird and owl, so when I saw this posted on the front page, I immediately did a quick fund check in my head to see what I could spare. I found this, by Cuore to be my utmost favorite (and alas, sold out!)

And once again, I can prove that a handmade/crafted bag is so incredibly much better than spending your hard earned money on some overpriced Coach bag. Check this out by Garden Shop Boutique:

**P.S - Thanks to Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction for their little blurb on Charm City Chica!**

Thirteen things

"Say what you want reverend, this brings in the parishoners" -Crow

13 things that make me smile:
1. Brown Sugar Pop Tarts
2. My dog running for me when I get home, like it is christmas
3. Cute text messages from a certain hot pilot
4. Snuggling (with aforementioned pilot)
5. "What not to wear" on TLC
6. When Munchkin tells me he loves me "all the way to the strawberry milkshake galaxy and back!"
7. Getting real emails from real people
8. "The Look" (you know...that look deep into my eyes and get lost look)
9. Having long meaningful conversations with my friends (whom I love dearly)
10. Realizing I look halfway decent with both short hair AND long hair
11. Girl Scout cookies
12. Sick sarcastic toys from mcphee.com
13. Sunny days in the midst of a multitude of gloom

I guess this might display my sensitive side too much. Oh well!

Going to the dogs

"Tom [As dog, with Japanese accent]: Rufforu! Bow-a-wow!"

Dogs by nature are really rather disgusting. Now don't get me wrong, I love dogs. Not so fond of cats, but dogs are definitely where its at.
Tonight I came home after my dog had done one of her disgusting dog things. As I walked through the door and saw her sitting patiently in the hall awaiting my arrival, I noticed the new hairstyle she was sporting. Grandpa Munster is all that comes to mind. The top of her head was slicked back in a way reminiscent of this picture:
I swear she was smiling like this too. And I'll tell you why.
My parents decided to grill steaks this evening. Now on most gas grills, there is a can that catches any grease drippings. This very important can is missing off of my parents grill. So instead, there is a cloth underneath of the grill, where grease drippings gather. My dog, being like most any dog, finds this little patch of deck to be complete nirvana. To her, licking at this spot is nothing short of sublime. And while she was under the grill licking at old grease, new grease was dripping upon her sweet little doggy head. And she was in heaven.
Well, my mom tried to clean her up the best she could, which left me with Grandpa Munster for a dog. Only she smelled. BAD. She smelled like a minimum wage fry cook after a long hot day in the un airconditioned back of a cheap, greasy diner. And she thought she was the shizzle.
Well, I thought she smelled like poop, so she and I headed up to the dreaded bathtub. She hates baths. I stuck her in the bathroom while I dug up a towel, and changed into some ratty clothes. I came back, and could hear her growls of displeasure from the bottom of the stairs. I picked her up, legs splayed, and tossed her in. After three go arounds with various shampoos, and a dose of Dawn (cuts grease out of your way you know) she is about 75% better. Still smells a bit like a fry cook, but also has essence of papaya, with beautiful, shiny, voluminous locks. (According to the bottle, her style should hold up to humidity for up to 48hrs!)
After the final rinse, she took off running like a wild untamed beast, downstairs to pick fights with the other two dogs, and rub her wet, furry body all over my moms furniture.
Sweet. There is justice.

Its birthday time!

"Awwww.... it was your birthday LAST year!!!" -Crow"

Tomorrow is Mr. Hot Pilot's 33rd birthday (yep, go ahead and do the math in your head...I'm 27...I'll wait) so of course I want to celebrate in the best way possible. Mr. Hot Pilot hasn't had the most celebratory birthdays in the past few years with the exception of last year, as that was our first year together. I want to do something that will make him feel super special and loved.

My mom has always made us kids a birthday cake on our birthday, and we all agree that her birthday cakes are by far better than any store bought cake. I want to start little traditions like this for Mr. Hot Pilot, Munchkin and I, but I really am not a baker. Even when I mentioned baking him a birthday cake, Mr. HP just said "why don't you just buy me an ice cream cake - it's easier".

Since I will be down in Del Rio where the major shopping center is WalMart, I am rather limited in my choices. I decided to look up some great cake designs, and found a few that might not be so appropriate now, but could fit the bill in another place and time:

I'm thinking however that he would be happier with one of these:


Suddenly domestic-ish

"Spacemen just don't look at home in a breakfast nook." -Crow.

I'm not exactly 'well known' around town as being a particularly neat and tidy person. For some reason or another I have had no problem keeping the main areas of my various abodes nice and sweet, while rendering my bedroom and the interior of my car un-inhabitable. I'm not too sure what this might mean about me from a psychological perspective, but I don't really give a rats arse.

Because of this, it was quite a surprise to myself and all that know me, that I took on such a fervent domestic role at Mr. Hot Pilots house.

As a bit of a background, my better half is a single papa who also has a super awesome job flying. He devotes himself 110% to being the best daddy possible (he is by far the most awesome dad I've ever seen in action) and devotes the same to being the best pilot and officer he can be. This dedication to Munchkin and his job tends to take away from his time to really clean house. Don't get me wrong, he is always on top of doing the laundry (the one job I LOVE-go figure!) and cooking a hot breakfast and healthy dinner EVERY SINGLE DAY. Yep. Hot breakfast as in eggs, bacon, pancakes, you name it. Every. Day. (Did I mention how awesome he is?) In the realm of cleaning house though...he leaves much to be desired. And that is where I come in.

I've grown accustomed to putting back together a house that my two tornadoes mess apart. But I love to do it because I love my boys. I do find myself frustrated sometimes by the mess however. But many times I just have to laugh. These are MEN (and boys!) we are talking about here! For instance, I went down to Texas to stay with Munchkin during the 2 weeks Mr. Hot Pilot was away at a training. There were about 4 days of overlap between when Mr. Hot Pilot left (Munchkin stayed at our friends home) and when I arrived. Mr. Hot Pilot decided to leave the cat at the house with enough food and water to hold her over until I got there. When I walked into the house, I found 3 mountains of cat food in three separate bowls on the kitchen floor but no water in sight. I looked at the cat and thought "well, she seems healthy enough and not on the brink of death, so what in the name of all that is holy is she drinking?". I looked high and low for a water bowl. And then I found it. The lid of the toilet in the main bathroom was left up. Yep. Mr. Hot Pilot figured that there was an unlimited supply of water in there and "she drinks out of there if I don't watch her anyway!".

Sick dude. Cat drank poop water and then came over to give me love and licks before I knew any better. (Mind you, when I inquired about having her learn to go to the bathroom on a toilet like some cats do, he wouldn't have anything to do with it since the thought of having to wait for the cat to finish business before he could use it just was too much for him.)

Over the course of those two weeks I scrubbed and washed and de-cluttered and re-vamped the entire household.

I totally nested.

Munchkin helped me pick out yummy scented candles and which pictures to hang on the walls in their new frames. He even hugged me while I was mopping the floor and thanked me. (And yes, my heart did melt!) I even got Munchkin to clean his room, since that was what Mr. Hot Pilot wanted help with the most.

When Mr. Hot Pilot returned home to us, I had a Tres Leches cake waiting in celebration. It was gross. (I never said I was the best baker did I?) I must have mentioned in passing that I would just throw the cake out before I left. It was in the refrigerator, so it was easy to forget that early morning at 4am when I had to leave for the airport. I returned two weeks later to find the cake still sitting in the fridge.

Mr. Hot Pilot's response?

"You said YOU were going to throw it out!"

My, oh my.

Note to self...Part deux

"Manston: Did Lars give you the TNT?
Crow [as Tanya]: He gave me the T and the N, but not the other T. And I had the A."

Dear Chica (continued...)

So here you are having fought and scrimped and saved to try and get you and your husband back to Maryland. Ed mentions that he has always wanted to be a cop, so you run with it. You of course are the one who is going to have to do all of the application filling out and saving money to buy your lesser half a plane ticket to go and take the test. Never thought you would get married to become a mother did you? I know, I know, you had these romantic ideals in your head about what being married young would be like. Oh, and did I mention that Ed passes his tests and physical tests well? Sounds great right? WRONG. He fails the whole thing because he couldn't pass the psych test. Yep. The psych test.

My dear young Chica, I wish you had just stopped there, took your belongings and ran back home. But you don't. Instead you move home WITH Ed and begin scouring to find him a job. Because he can't do that himself. In the mean time he is still working for the same company as in Florida but is working on a project in Nags Head, so you dutifully drive down every other weekend to keep your marriage alive and strong. Are we seeing a pattern here? Oh and I MUST tell you about your first wedding anniversary my dear. You go to school all day, work until 8pm and then drive 5 hours to Nags Head to be met by a guy who just wants to read comic books. So you will spend your anniversary crying while he ignores you. So. Freaking. Awesome.

Eventually he just comes out with it and says he doesn't see himself with you in 5 years, doesn't want to go to counseling and that is it. But let me tell you hon, it is going to be one of the greatest things to ever happen to you. Out of the crapshoot you got an awesome puppy named Lucy and realized how supportive and awesome your family and friends really are. Does your stretch of horrible choices in men stop there you ask? One should hope so, but of course not. This is YOU we are talking about here! You for some reason need a few more mistakes under your belt before you are able to give up and meet Mr. Hot Pilot.

You are sick of being with a non-ambitious, slightly un-educated, not sure what he wants out of life, unsuccessful guy. So you begin dating Stefan who has a degree and works for a financial company. He is nice and all, but really doesn't want to commit. He just wants to be single forever it seems. So you flip the other way looking for someone who wants commitment and family and all that gushy stuff. And you begin dating Lee. Now let me take a moment to give you a piece of solid advice. LISTEN TO YOUR PARENTS NO MATTER WHAT! Believe me, they know what is best and right for you, even if you disagree at the time. Your mom tells you that the first time she ever met Lee, she felt sick to her stomach. Lee seemed quiet and nice, but in reality he was emotionally abusive to you honey. I hate to break it to you, but he made milquetoast out of you. Took $2,000 bucks from you, received your bank account password (so he knew when you could pay for stuff - in his mind all the time) pressured you to live with him, pressured you to not see your family, checked your email and call logs...I'll be quite honest, it is the closest you will ever come to prison - only I think it is much worse. Luckily you finally grew a self-esteem and kicked him to the curb.

And suddenly you finally get it. You don't want to be with ANYONE. Who cares if you are the single lady with all of the dogs living alone in a house 10 years from now? You are going to be happy ON YOUR OWN. Period.

So you go for quite a while being single, and truly enjoying it. You work hard in school, develop awesome friendships with the girls you have known all your life...and one day you inadvertantly meet him...an absolutely, ridiculously gorgeous man we now call "Mr. Hot Pilot." You don't think much of it though. You have been on a couple of dates with some very nice guys who for once are christian guys. You pray hard that you will never be hurt again or get into another bad situation like in the past. You pray that if a guy isn't right for you, that it just sort of ends before it starts. Before any emotions become involved. And strangely it happens. You go on a couple of dates, but nothing ever really goes anywhere, and you couldn't care less. And you are feeling this exact non-chalance when you meet Mr. Hot Pilot. He seems very nice (and he is SUPER hot) but you figure he is probably just another nice guy. You begin chatting back and forth, and he one day asks for your phone number. So you give it to him. You aren't nervous or anything, again pretty non-chalant about the whole thing. And then he calls. And you talk for nearly 3 hours. And the conversation is so EASY. And you really love the way his voice sounds. And you begin looking forward to his phone calls. And you begin talking every single night without fail. And you both want the same things. And you can tell him anything and everything. And you fly to San Antonio for your first official date. And that is it. You both are completely smitten with each other. He is by far the smartest, sweetest, most honest, most loving man you have ever met in your life, hands down. Even with your prayers you notice feelings for each other just keep getting stronger and stronger. It is then you know you have found the man you are to be with.

Think that is where this story ends? Not a chance. I'll have to fill you in on the awesome happenings of your life in 10 years.

For now, please take my advice and sit tight for Mr. Hot Pilot? Totally worth the wait!

Your future self


Note to self...(Part I)

Do you have cartoon music playing in your head too? -Mike

Do you ever feel like you wish you could go back in time and tell your younger self all of the wonderful and terrible things you have learned over the years? I was thinking the other day about all that has happened over the past 8 or 9 years, and all of the things I would love to tell my younger self. If I were to write myself a letter, it would be something like this:

Dear young Chica,

So much has happened over the past 10 years, and I feel it is my duty to give you a heads up and forewarning. Now not everything is terrible, but believe me, you are going to learn some serious life lessons. Hope you are ready!

First, lets talk about your weight. Honey, if you only knew how awesome you looked, you wouldn't spend 75% of your time obsessing over every little thing you put in your mouth. What's the point in being thin if you can't enjoy it? And trust me, guys tend to like their women with a bit more of a figure (re - not looking like a 12 year old boy) than they do skeletons. I know you know things have been happening to your body that are big fat red flags to tell you what you are doing isn't healthy. I know you want children someday, and what you are doing right now isn't they way to ensure you are ready and able someday. Kudos on the working out, but let yourself EAT! Enjoy yourself while you are young and gorgeous! And oh, by the way? You ARE gorgeous. I know you don't think so, but someday you will understand. Don't be so focused on what other people think of you. Learn to love yourself, like yourself, and enjoy spending time with yourself.

Remember when you were a Freshman in high school and you made the comment "I think I'm too immature to be involved with/date anyone?". You hit the nail right on the head. Don't be so concerned with having a boyfriend or wanting guys to like you. Believe me, they do. You know those three girls who you consider your best friends in the whole world? They truly are the best friends you could ever have. No one gets you like they do. No one has the same crazy sense of humor (who can forget the Beck and Foot stories? or the crazy letters you sent to your former marching band mates anonymously? HIGH-larious!) Don't screw it up. Keep it up and you are bound to make a huge mistake in your love life (and with your friends)....

Yeah...speaking of huge mistakes in the dating realm. Where to begin? You should have stayed single until you met Mr. Hot Pilot (more on him later). That New Year's eve party you went to with your girlfriends? Probably should have stayed home and watched Dick Clark's rockin' eve with your parents. Instead you met your first "bad idea" boyfriend. Mike. Wasn't his drinking enough of a tip off for you to stay away? But you are young I guess, and those things seem so grown up and glamorous. News Flash : They aren't. (Just wait till you see what drinking does to a person later on in life when you work in a trauma center). And then you drove his drunk butt home. Seriously. Do we need to go back a few paragraphs and remind you how awesome you are and that you are worth more? Geez louise... So instead you date this guy, and he is your first kiss. At 18. Not bad I suppose (that you waited until you were 18, not that it was him of course)

You were too naive to see what might be happening when he kept bringing you flowers for no apparent reason. Oh you found out alright. That night you were supposed to go with a group of friends for dinner and movie. And he had to pull you aside to clear his conscience and tell you he slept with some random girl. Instead of doing the "worth-it" girl routine, you tried to stick around to see what might happen. And it happened again. So you finally dumped him.

But something about that first serious relationship did something to you. Instead of realizing it had nothing to do with you and your awesomeness, you somehow beat yourself up. You wanted some sense of stability, and to know you could have a normal relationship. So you started dating a friend, whom we shall call "Ed". Ed seemed cool and all...seemed like he was a romantic and artistic type. But in reality he had no drive and ambition. He couldn't even get past community college. But you married him anyway. Yep. You married him. Then you moved to Florida, far, far away from your family and friends who loved you. And suddenly Ed changed. Ed wanted a life separate from you. He told you he had enough friends already and that you were "just his wife". You went through serious financial hardships. Finally you scrimped and saved every last penny to get you both out of there and back home to Maryland again. Do you notice a trend here? YOU are the one doing all the fighting for this relationship, for your home, for your finances.

Guess we will have to see what happens later on....Part II later on.