Toes: Done

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So, my big toes have been bothering me lately. I know what this means: time to get my toes done! Pedicure time!

Now, thanks to the un-raise (and HEY, guess who’s making 15% less as of Wednesday? This girl!), I have had exactly 2 pedicures in 2009 and neither of them have been at the nice salons I am used to. My first pedicure in 2009 was while Gene was on his last trip to NJ and it was….ehh fine. I walked in with horrible toenails (and wearing sneakers…who DOES that???) and walked out with red toes. Fine.

I was actually going to go there again – who likes change? Not this girl! – but there’s a new place literally in my neighborhood. Oh, it was amazing. And only $27 plus tip for the best pedicure I have ever had. My toes look good and even the massaging chair was awesome. It was like a vacation. Mmm. Well, OK, it was pretty great.

What’s the lesson here? Don’t be such a snob, Elaine. (Silly me).

Arrrgh, I tell you. Arrrrgh

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I want:

1) A vacation. I am hoping to take some time off around Gene’s birthday in August and we’re going up north in October but I want to go to the beach. I don’t know where my massive sense of entitlement comes from (we didn’t take vacations when I was a kid or anything, so it’s not like I’m trying to recreate a childhood trip to Florida) but I want a good vacation! ::footstomp::

2) An iPhone (but I want the vacation more)

3) Pizza Hut. Very badly.  I overcooked a turkey breast last night and it came out dry and ack! Tonight’s dinner: leftover dry turkey. I wish I’d bought some gravy at the store on the way home.

This week has suuuuuucked.

Thanks a lot, Old Navy!

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I almost wore a night shirt out of the house today. Oh well, I can wear it on the patio.

(Seriously, I love Old Navy. I walked in there yesterday and walked out with 7 t-shirts and 1 I thought dress and they are nice and long and cover my ass and don’t make my arms feel like they’re as big as Popeye’s. Miracle clothes. Clothes cheap enough that I don’t hate myself for long when I inevitably get greasy food on them).

(Did I tell you about dropping the rice part of a piece of sushi and it managed to get all over my shirt AND inside my purse? I am a talented girl).


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(I thought this title was an homage to one of the Kevin Smith movies but it turns out it’s from Super Troopers).

Anyway…Julie asks a good question – if Gene were to go to Afghanistan, would I continue to work? Yes, but I would probably waste as much time as humanly possible. And another downside is that this would put us off ANOTHER year with the whole baby thing. If somehow I got pregnant before Gene went to Kabul (ha! ha! hahahahaha) I’d just say eff it and move to Indiana. It’s one thing having a support system of one (Gene), it’s a whole other thing having a support system of two beagles (and the Almighty D – who hates that nickname, BTW).

Wish list…

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I would like one of the following tomorrow:

1) Massage

2) Appointment with chiropractor

3) A large needle in my spine so I can’t feel anything below my belly button.

So, Gwen, my boss, asked me to help her clean out our company’s warehouse. The warehouse is approximately a billion feet by a trillion feet and every inch is filled with…crap. Oh, so much crap. Some of it stacked to the ceiling. Box after box after box of cash register tapes, employee files, time cards (some from 1993!) for some of our locations. I filled nearly 3 enormous bags of shredding in about 3 hours we filled our dumpster to the brim. And yet, there are easily another 10 boxes of crap to shred plus who knows how much stuff can just be heaved into the dumpster.

And I suspect it’s the heaving boxes into the dumpster that makes me want a massage, a visit with my chiropractor, or just a needle in my spine. (Preferably one or both of the first two, though).


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so, Gene calls me this afternoon. “How would you feel if I got a 70% raise, tax free? 21 days off a year?”

“Drug dealing?”



No. His employer is searching for someone to take a position…in KABUL. As in Af-fugging-ghanistan. As in a war zone – Mission Accomplished, my ass.

“But we’re not at war WITH Afghanistan! We’re at war along with Afghanistan against the Taliban.” (Who are located where, Gene? Afghanistan).

I wouldn’t go, by the way. DUH. I’m not concerned that this will happen mostly because Gene also told me that one of his employer’s government clients wants him to work on their account.

Seriously…what would I do without Gene for an entire year? (“They’d let me go home twice!”)

I am a genius.

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So far today, I have…

Slept until 20 until 9 (I know this is not getting me any sympathy from any of you!)

Eaten brunch! (Yum!)

Gone to the grocery store! (So close to keeping it under $100! Damn you, 2 for $6 queso!)

Swept and mopped kitchen floor! (The Boy’s mom did this every day when she and Gene were married and I can’t understand how she did it. Just…err…floored)

Vacuumed the living room floor! (On the topic of “vacuum”, am I the only one who is surprised that of the 5 letters in that word, the letter that is duplicated is the “U”? English is a very funny language. Why not Vaacum, Vaccum or, hell, even Vacum?*)

Scrubbed the crud off the table on the patio! (So icky. I left a citronella candle on that table for YEARS and at some point, scientific events occurred and the next thing I know, bam! Wax on the table!)

(OK, after the vacuuming but before the scrubbing, I sat on the swing on the patio and finished a book, but still!)

And I guess Sunday Laundry is eternal, right? Mom’s probably doing hers right now, so I get the weekend laundry thing from her. 

Oh, hey! Forgot the important part. I’m a genius because tonight’s dinner? “LEFTOVERS”. I made this and this for dinner last night (well, Gene grilled the pork) and there are tons of leftovers.

* If someone IMs you and his screen name is “Vacum”, you have my permission to NOT respond. He is a dirty man. I promise. Did I ever tell you about the time the GM from one of our locations sent me a work email from his AOL email address and it included the letters (egad) “C” “U” and… anyway. And I promise the address wasn’t** or something that might have excused it. If your personal email address is pervy, then get a hotmail address that is innocuous. Seriously, what email address did he have on his resume??

(And finally, do you know how many tries it took to spell innocuous? Four).

** Although, that would make an equally hilarious email address. (I think I just scared off my last reader who is not related to me).