Today’s post is brought to you by…

Far too little sleep. And possibly sugar. If I’m lucky, anyway.

It’s been a lot of book reviewing here lately and not much else. Which, all things considered, is only half reflective of what I’ve been doing with my time.

Yes, there’s been a ton of reading. Sort of makes sense and all, seeing as how I do that writing thing and I’ve been reading since I could say beer. Don’t ask me why the two are related, because they’re probably not at all.

Other things!

TV. Yes, I know it’s a time sink with little to no redeeming value, but darnit, I love my shows!

Started watching BSG (the new one) for the first time ever. A put it on and said “It’s good. Watch.” So I did. Way less cheesy than I remember the original (via reruns, thank you, I am not THAT old) being. Pretty darn good actually. I love Boomer and I don’t CARE if she’s a toaster. So HAH! We’re almost to the end of season two. After we’re done with BSG, I’m gonna make A watch Caprica with me again, cause I really liked that, too. It makes perfect sense to me that drug dealer Jesus (also known as Eric Stoltz – don’t judge, that’s really what he looks like in Pulp Fiction) would be the one to start us on the road to destruction. Sort of like the people who invented Watson (I for one, welcome our new computer overlords) have laid the groundwork for Skynet.

We’re also watching Hell’s Kitchen, OF COURSE!! I’m calling Mary or Jon. Gordon Ramsay is the poo. And then there’s all that drama from Kitchen Nightmares. Seriously people, why ask to be on the show if you don’t really want him to fix your shit? He’s Gordon f***ing Ramsay. Trust me when I tell you that he knows more about running a restaurant than you do.

The day job has been… interesting to say the least. I know that I was tearing my hair out when I was juggling all the management, but I can honestly say that I’d rather go back to that than deal with the inanity I have now. I guess details will have to wait for the individual causing the havoc to be immortalized as a character in a book. Cause good grief. The person is almost unbelievable.

There are probably other things. Like A and I saw Iron Man 3. OMG! Loooved it. Need to do so many TV and movie reviews. Obviously I need to win the lottery so that I can update all the stuff I need to. Yeesh.

Special treat tomorrow! And on the 22nd. Guest blogs from Jenna Bennett and Diane Alberts. Squeee! I love guest blogs. And their books. You should totally go read their books!

And so that this post isn’t beyond boring… I leave you with:



So. I has a puppy!

A few weeks ago, on one of the days that A was at work with me due to his thingie, one of my co-workers came in late.

To be perfectly honest, I hadn’t even noticed he was late (bad boss!!) so I gave it no thought.

V: I’m sorry I’m late. There was an incident.

Me: You’re late?

V: Yeah, it’s like 10 after.

Me: Oh. Okay. Want some hot chocolate? (I don’t actually think that’s what I said, but it was something totally inane like that. Cause honestly, I didn’t care he was late.)

V: No. So what happened was, when I was heading to the car to come to work I saw this puppy. It came charging up to me like “Hey, help!” But I was already late, so I just brought him with me.

At this point he pulls out this TINY little chihuahua that looks like a boxer mix. Cutest. Freaking. Puppy. EVAR.

Me: OMG SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE (Dogs all over the city heard this noise. True story.)

A: Awwwwww.

V: Yeah, this is why I didn’t want to show you. Don’t get attached!

Me: I shall call him Squishy! And he shall be mine!!

A: (grabs puppy and snuggles) He’s so cute!

Puppy: *wiggle, lick, nibble, cuddle*

At this point both A and I are total goners. Probably more me, tbh. I’m a sucker for small, cuddly, baby animals. Kittens more so than puppies, but ya know. I can’t work/volunteer in animal shelters for this reason. I’d come home with every damn furbaby in the place.

ANYWAY! I immediately claim the puppy as my own (but really he’s A’s puppy, for reasons) and drag him off to my office with a dish of water, a bunch of newspaper in a box, and a mister who is totally in love with the puppy breath.


V still insists that we must search out the puppy’s family. Not only did I say that if the puppy had family, they have proved to be poor puppy parents, but @JessaRusso and @callmebecks backed me up on this. (I love these ladies!)

Interestingly enough, neither A nor V gave my Twitter backup any weight at all. Jerkfaces.

After about an hour or so, I had to run A over to his thingie and V took the puppy. For the rest of the day, I was not allowed near the puppy, lest I grow too attached.

*snort* Yeah, it’s like he doesn’t even know me at all. A and I had already picked out the puppy’s name after like 10 minutes.

His name is Oedipus Rex. Rex for short. There’s a reason for this. I swear it.

A suggested we name the puppy after a mythical or superhero character who had been abandonated as a baby and left to die in the wild. I thought this was a fabulous idea and we settled on Rex right away.

V, the rat bastard, took the puppy home with him, because A agreed that we should find the puppy’s totally irresponsible and awful family.


Shortened version. After a few days V gave up on finding the puppy’s family and said we could have him.


Now I have a tiny marauder that sounds, I shit you not, like a whole herd of rhinos when he runs through the bedroom during puppy play time.

Rex has settled into his new home quite comfortably.


Except the cats…

I have three of them. They all have very different reactions to Rex.

The big fatty: Mom. Seriously. What the hell is this? Is it food? If it’s food why the f*** is it MOVING??? My food doesn’t MOVE! It’s damn noisy for a snack. I think you may have screwed up the whole food concept here, Mom.

The prissy diva (who likes the bathtub; stories coming later): OH HOLY CAT JEEBUS WTF IS THAT?!?!?!?!

(When Rex plays with the cat-nip sock) Dude. That’s my stash, man. Not cool!

Teenage attitude girl cat: Oh gross. It’s loud and slobbery. Oh dear lord, am I not the baby anymore?

As much as I love my kitties, I have to confess to a certain unholy, and slightly evil, delight in their distress at the introduction of the energizer puppy.

More stories to come!

It’s the end of the world as we know it…

So today is supposed to be the end of the world. Yeah, I’ve heard that before.

The world was supposed to end on my 16th birthday. Didn’t happen.

Then there was all this bruhaha about the world ending today, the solstice (happy solstice btw), because the Mayan calendar ended today. Clearly it was some sort of message!

Umm. Yeah. The message was: My arms are tired from chiseling all this into stone. I’m done now. You guys can chisel your own shit for the next 2000 years, you lazy bitches.

At least, that’s what I got out of it.

There is one alternate explanation, though.

It’s entirely possible that today is the day that I get my long-coveted Phoenix Powers. Oh yeah. It’ll happen one day. I just know it. I figure I’m far more stable than Jean Grey, simply because I don’t pine after Scott “I’m a whingy bitch” Summers. Thus, I’d be a far more suitable choice for absolute power.


There are some who believe that I would go Dark Phoenix in the blink of an eye and destroy the planet. Now, I know this would never happen, however, since there are some who think it, that could be the hidden meaning behind the end of the world nonsense!

I suggested this to AE (the bff from high school).

Her response should leave no questions as to which camp she falls into…

Me: I know why people think the world is ending today! I get my phoenix powers! I just know it!

AE: Um. Yeah. I hate to be the one to tell you this… But perhaps you should sit down…

Me: Wha?? No phoenix powers?

AE: So the Mayans had a carving. There was this woman riding a beast with wheels. Another person riding a beast with wheels angered her. The woman riding the beast with wheels destroyed the other person in a firey ugly way. There’s also a carving of a Mayan god shaking his finger as if to say “Nuh uh, no, no, no!” Close ups of the carving show that the woman’s beast with wheels had a little Mazda symbol on it. I’m not making any judgement calls. Just saying.

*sigh* I’m really sort of crushed. I thought for sure that today would be the day. But here it is, 7pm and still no alien symbiosis granting me absolute power.

Maybe on 11-12-13!

Sandy Hook Shooting

I haven’t said anything about this yet, for many reasons.

Primarily because I just don’t have the words to express my sorrow for these children who will never have the experiences they should have. My sorrow for their families and the families of the teachers who made the ultimate sacrifice one can make for another. Because I don’t want to make their tragedy about anything but their loss.

It still shouldn’t be, but people are right that we need to have a serious conversation.

I read the gut wrenching blog post by The Anarchist Soccer Mom.

Today, I read this post by a psychiatrist.

This is something that hits very close to home for me. I have family with mental illness, some diagnosed and some not. I think to myself “There but for the grace of God.”

Mental illness is very real. It isn’t people looking for attention. Sometimes those behaviors that we dismiss solely as someone being socially awkward or a freak are beyond their control and are cries for help.

Most importantly, mental illness is something that we need to talk about. WE NEED TO. They need to. If you know someone who is or even may be mentally ill, be willing to talk. To listen. To offer help and to push them to get it if they need it.

It isn’t easy and it’s one of those things that “we just don’t talk about”, but it’s long past time.

Mental illness hides. Don’t let it. You could save a life.


Mostly because I feel the need for some humor today.

But also because it’s relevant to the post.

At my current day job, we do a secret santa thing every year. I picked our receptionist. We call her my work daughter, she’s just about 18 in a week or so. boobsShe’s funny and silly and at times, she’s dingy.

I got some pretty good news today that I’m super excited about.

So, it started out with that.

D: I’m so excited. I’m crossing my fingers, my toes, everything!

Me: Me too! *I then unzip my hoodie to show her my Tinkerbell shirt*

D: *wide eyes* OMG! You can cross your boobs?!?!

Me: No, dork. I was showing you my shirt. My boobies are not floppy enough to cross!

(Btw, this is not embellished. This was how the conversation actually went. I don’t need to make things up with this girl for comedy purposes!)

Me: Oh! Before you open the doors and get ready for the food share, I need you to check your email.

D: Why? What did I do?

Me: Nothing, silly. I just need you to check your email.

D: *scared look*

Me: It’s okay! I wouldn’t fire you through email.

D: Oh god.

We chose secret santas a couple of weeks ago, and I got her. Which made shopping super easy, since I know this young woman like she’s my own daughter. But I have issue with secrets. I’m terrible at keeping the kind that involve gifts. I can’t NOT tell someone if I got them something I’m really excited about and think they’ll be happy with. I also can’t stand not knowing what I got. I used to be one of those unwrap in secret and rewrap gifts people. Actually, I still would be if A wouldn’t hide shit so well.

Anyway. I asked D who she’d gotten and of course, trusting darling that she is, she told me.

Then she asked me who I got. Pft. Right. Not that it wasn’t hard to keep it a secret, but I totally did. So she wandered out of my office feeling cheated and even though people suggested to her that maybe it was because SHE was my secret santa, she didn’t believe it. Why? Because she knew that I would have told her.

So she checked her email.

And of course, there was nothing there yet.


D: Omg. You were my secret santa, weren’t you?!!

Me: Yep!

D: Omg, I had no idea!! And S even told me it was probably you!

I laughed so hard that my stomach hurt. Fortunately, she laughed too, so it’s all good!


Today is a sad day for all of us. Take a few minutes to think about the good in life and hug someone you love and who makes you smile. And pass along a smile to someone else.

Adventures in having a child

The fantastic and awesomely amazing @Fizzygrrl shared a story of her having the birds and bees talk with her kids.

I laughed so hard my stomach hurt. Then, much like I do with her stories of public humiliation, I think to myself: Self, we should share our equally horrifying moments of parenting fun.

So, here is my utterly inane sharing.

I was minding my own business and driving home from work one day, quite peacefully and without my usual angst at driving in traffic (there was none) when my cell phone rang.

Yes, I answered it. I always answer it when it’s my son’s number.

Expecting the dulcet tones (read: really loud excited screaming) of my offspring, instead I hear his father.

Ex: I need you to talk to your son.

Me: Oh god. He’s MY son? Why is it that he’s MY son when you want me to talk to him?

Ex: Whatever. He won’t listen to me. So will you please just talk to him?

Me: He doesn’t listen to you, cause you’re a wuss. But yes, fine. I’ll talk to him.

Ex: Good. I need you to tell him why he can’t take a bow and arrows outside to play with his friends.

Me: I’m sorry, what?

wait what

Ex: He wants to take his bow and arrows outside to the park with his friends.

Me: Why do I even have to HAVE this conversation???

Boy: Hi Mom.

Me: Dude, you can’t take weapons out in public.

Boy: But I’m careful!

Me: Which is great, I’m glad to hear that. But you still can’t take weapons out in public.

Boy: Why not?

Me: Cause other people are stupid. Also, if your dad goes to jail, I’m like six states away and can’t bail him out.

Boy: Okay.

Ex: Thank you.










Me: Dude, seriously? Why?

Ex: Cause they’re cool!

Me: Then take him to an archery range or something!

Ex: Oh yeah, that’s a good idea.












Yeah… that was a fun day.


End of Watch

View the details here.

So this weekend we watched End of Watch. I wasn’t sure about what I thought about it when we saw the previews, but I was willing to give it a go. I mean, Jake Gyllenhaal is a pretty darn good actor. He isn’t eye candy for me, but that’s okay. Not everyone can be Chris Evans, after all.

No spoilers, since this one is still newish.

There are two cops and one of them has this weird filming everything fetish. (So there’s a lot of that home movie quality to the filming, which I don’t really endofwatchcare for, but they didn’t do the nasty Blair Witch thing, so I can deal.) The movie follows these guys on their patrols and what they encounter on a daily basis. Let me just say right now, some of this is just heartbreaking.

Outside of work, Jake Gyllenhaal meets and gets all squishy about Anna Kendrick (the cute girl from Scott Pilgrim and Twilight). It’s sweet and I appreciate that they show their lives outside of the job. It makes it a more human story and makes you care more about the characters. Of course, it also sets you up for some serious water works at the end.

The boys stumble on some ugly happenings and run afoul of some very nasty drug people. From there, it’s fairly obvious what’s going to happen, and it does.

Yeah, I totally cried at the end. Bastards. On the plus side, they ended the movie with a very happy and touching scene. I like that they did this, cause it let me get over being all weepy and left me feeling uplifted, rather than depressed.

The good:

Pretty much everything. I liked the story, the acting was good, and it spotlighted what cops deal with without being preachy about it. Since I have a good deal of respect for cops, I like it when movies show them in a positive light, rather than villianizing them in some effort to appeal to the whole counter culture thug crap that’s going around right now.

The bad:

The only thing I hated was the camera style, but even that fit with the story, so I dealt.


See this. Take tissues, you’ll need ’em. Get ice cream afterwards, cause you’ll need that too.