Monthly Archives: August 2009

Happy Happy Joy Joy

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I am hoping at least a few of you remember Ren and Stimpy. I have officially put on my happy helmet and am determined that this is going to be a fabulous week. Because last week was total crap and I cannot handle a repeat. A good friend found out she has breast cancer. Dan’s dad found out his cancer has returned. And lots of other stupid trivial things happened.

The most entertaining stupid trivial thing included me, my white pants and a mocha frappuccino. I was coming back to the office after a quick trip to Starbucks. I got out of my car and walked around toward the back, when the frappuccino slipped out of my hands, hit the concrete and SPLAT … all over the right leg of my white pants.

Me (in a very loud voice): “JESUS! F*CK!”

A voice from the distance: “Rhonda?”

Me (panicking in my head): “CRAP! You just took the Lord’s name in vein AND dropped an F-bomb in the parking garage.”

From around a car, comes my coworker Vanessa. WHEW.

Vanessa: “I knew I recognized that voice. Are you okay?” Looks down at my pants and begins to laugh. “Oh my.”

She was nice enough to walk with me through the sky walks (pretending like no big deal), and even let me hide behind her on the elevator. Thirty minutes and one entire Tide pen later, my pant leg was completely soaked, but the frappuccino was mostly gone.

The moral of the story … invest in Tide pens. Oh, and don’t cuss and act like a raging maniac in the parking garage at work.

The following portion of this blog is rated “R”
So, I took this test last week (and was so tickled by the questions that I could not stop laughing … it was as close to being completely hysterical as I have ever come … I am pretty sure my coworkers wanted to slap me), but feel I should go ahead and post my results … just in case anyone wants to mess with me and/or ruin the fabulous week ahead.

How many baboons could you take in a fight? (armed only with a giant dildo)

Created by The Oatmeal

“What the f*ck?” Wednesday

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This is what the last few days have been like for me. Basically a “WTF?” week … all the way around.

In fact, WTF monkey is going to be my new mascot. Whenever I post him, you know to send over some booze and comfort food.

“What the f*ck?” Wednesday

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“What the f*ck am I doing on the executive floor?” Edition

It’s week two of my life on the executive floor. It’s been surprisingly okay and I haven’t had to taper too much. In fact, I thought it would be very quiet and proper, and it’s actually quite the opposite. I’m still not dropping f-bombs or taking dance breaks, but it’s only a matter of time.

So here’s the scoop.

More security than Fort Knox
Cameras everywhere! Coming or going by elevator? Someone knows.(Don’t pull your panties out of your butt in this elevator lobby.) In fact, I probably got a demerit in my personnel file when they saw me taking this photo.


“Did you know you have gone to the restroom five times today? We know. We see you.” WTF? Can’t I walk past the freight elevator without Big Brother checking me out?

The bright side of all this security is that practically no one has access to the floor. You don’t get to see me unless I want to see you. Muahahahaha.

Top-notch snacks and such
Free soft drinks and Starbucks every day, all day. We even have several blends to chose from … and no more powdered creamer. Hooray.


We also get to nosh on the remnants from executive meetings. Free chips and pickles? You had me at “leftovers.”


Helpful signs everywhere
Did you forget how to wash your hands? There’s a handy how-to guide right next to the sinks. (Really? Even my four year old remembers how to wash her hands.)


Stressed? Feeling the pressure of being on the executive floor? If that is you in picture #3, you need a massage. (WTF is up with that couple in the middle? Did they get a headache when they realized they were at Olan Mills? Or maybe they need a V8.)

And finally, awkward moments
My favorite was going to the ladies room and finding the CFO and an EVP having a powwow. I wasn’t sure if I should just turn around and come back later, or go ahead and do my business. Do I really want to pee in the background while they are making important executive decisions?

Bee Gees, fuzzy boots and Pabst Blue Ribbon

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After happy-hour cocktails to celebrate my friend Kathy’s birthday on Saturday night, the group decided to continue the party down the street at the House of Blues. Little did we know that we would find a treasure … a band that would play excellent music AND make us laugh until we cried. (In fact, we all stood around in disbelief for a good five minutes with a “is this for real?” look on our faces.)

I give you Tragedy, a heavy metal, Bee Gees tribute band.

Yes, you heard me correctly. Think heavy metal sound, disco lyrics, spandex, glitter and some crazy showmanship. (If I had known, I would have brought a real camera, but the iPhone didn’t do too bad.) They rocked all the classic Bee Gees stuff, but the pièce de résistance was their version of the Barbra Streisand tune “I am a woman in love.” (I almost peed myself.)

If you ever get the opportunity, you have to go see these guys. The music was great (if you enjoy hard rock and the Bee Gees) and watching men dance around in spandex jumpsuits is surprisingly entertaining.

Yes, that is a slightly hefty guy wearing silver spandex shorts, fuzzy pink boots and hot-pink, elbow-length gloves. This photo really doesn’t do his beer belly justice.


P.S. There was also an AC/DC tribute band that sounded exactly like the original (and they definitely looked the part). They were excellent, but unless you are wearing fuzzy boots and spandex shorts, you don’t get an entire blog post.

P.P.S. Dan thought is was hysterical that HOB serves Pabst Blue Ribbon. Apparently, it brought back some high-school memories for him, so he bought a bucket of them and made us all drink one. Yuk.

“What the f*ck?” Wednesday

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Morons on wheels
I can’t get away from them. My tolerance is definitely low (because I didn’t have to drive in rush-hour traffic from 2000 to 2008), but I think I attract the dumbest of the dumb. Not only did this guy drive halfway on the shoulder for the entire 10-mile stretch of freeway (even on the overpasses … he was maybe a foot from the bridge railing), he was also tailgating and stomping on his brakes randomly.

This person is why I can never get a concealed handgun permit.


Didn’t need to see that
This was at the checkout line. Ugh. President Obama does not make a pretty woman. And WTF is up with putting him in drag at checkout anyway?


Ruining crappy TV for everyone

Really, “E!”? I know late night is the time for all the ridiculous infomericals and chat-line advertisements, but booty calls at 11:30? No one is that drunk until way after midnight. This seems like a new low even for you.

I just need to pee
Okay, I am all for having something to say, but you need to pick an appropriate time and place. I couldn’t decide if this was a “deep thought” or just a commentary on toilet paper. After a moment or two, I was like “WTF? I’m in the bathroom.” Could we stop with the 24/7 messaging? I just want to pee and look at the bathroom door.

Ahhh, the weekends

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Life has been exceptionally good lately. The last three weekends have been so much fun that it actually made up for all the crap I put up with during the week. What a nice change!

I took Anabella for her first pedicure, which she loved. Between the cartoons, the ice cream with sprinkles and the flowers painted on her toenails, I think she’s hooked. She giggled through her entire foot rub, which was highly entertaining for everyone.

I also spent a recent weekend at Lake Livingston, relaxing with girlfriends. At first, that mommy guilt kicked in, but once I had a coffee martini in me (drinking at 10 a.m. rocks!), I was in heaven. It’s been a long time since I have laughed so much and so hard. This is a place I’ve been visiting since my mid-20’s, so it was nice to reconnect with ME. I took some notes on my iPhone of all the funny things said that day, but when I went back and read them … well, it wasn’t exactly PG stuff. Girls can be raunchy after a few vodka lemonades!

Check out the view … how perfect is that? I also got to indulge my need for speed on one of the new wave runners. 49 MPH, folks! (I had the butt bruises to prove it.)

Last weekend, Anabella and I went to KB’s house to help decorate cupcakes for a bake sale to support my friend Kathy’s puppy rescue charity. Anabella had the best time and looked friggin’ adorable. She even did a pretty good job decorating.

And sampling …


And then we got to bottle feed these sweet little babies … all 8 of them. My recent tingling of wanting another baby was completely squashed, so that was the good news.

Scarlett is still adorable and perfect … and nearing two! Lately, she has been discovering her love of shoes.


And the best part of the last few weekends … Anabella is now miraculously potty trained! I don’t WTF happened there, but thank you to the potty gods for small favors. That child has given me more bathroom problems than I could have ever imagined … remember the days of finger painting with poop?! Or when I had to duct tape her into her diapers? No more! Thank you, thank you, thank you.