Conversations on Friday #4

"Really, Jayne?  We're only going overnight", quipped Roger.

When they arrived home, it was obvious to Roger and Jayne that the disdain
the red bamboo chair had for the striped chair had finally boiled over and obviously, the
broom could no longer be trusted to be left in charge while they were out.

It had been three days since the suspicious death of the living room rug,
 but Jayne knew she could never start healing until the police finished
their investigation and removed the chalk outline.

It only took three games of vertical foosball before Jayne realized
 that she should have chosen  to be the yellow team.

After four unanswered requests for Roger to move his bass boat out of
 the garage, Jayne took parking matters into her own hands.

As important a man as Great-Great Uncle Parnasis was, Roger still found himself
unable to take a satisfying pee with an audience in the room.

Neither Roger or Jayne could have expected this when the neighborhood kids threatened to TP their house. 

Fridayness, y'all,

Ach

Because Of The Love of A Good Man. And Coconut Cream Pie.

Tuesday night and Wednesday were seriously fucked up.  I'm not going to go into detail about it, but suffice it to say that I got mere minutes of sleep before the alarm clock, on it's third snooze, slapped me upside the head.

Just like my real alarm clock, in the metaphorical sense.

I was on auto pilot when I skidded into work on two wheels, with mere seconds to prepare for an all day....ALL DAY, I said....conference call with my Amsterdam and Oxford offices.

Now I don't know how many of you are ever called upon to participate in conference calls.  Or how many of you might be familiar with working with counterparts from across the pond.  In my organization, the term conference call is synonymous with 'cluster fuck'.  It usually involves multiple mierenneuker (people caught up in the minutia...literally translated by the Dutch as 'ant fuckers'.  It's a great word. Use it with my blessing), all of whom believe that they are in charge of the impending train wreck.  Good times.  Thank heaven for the mute button and Facebook.

Minutes after the call started, I got a text from a friend.  It was at that very moment that I became acutely aware that some of the people with whom I've been friends for years have actually been brainwashed by my ex-husband and his inability to keep his damned mouth shut and keep personal shit personal. (My denial was not ignored by Roger, who in his infinite wisdom...ah hem...tried to tell me what was happening.  You were right, sweetie.  Take that and run, cause you may never see it again.)

You see, I chose to take the high road.  Leaving was my idea so I navigated the divorce with a minimum of discussion with anyone.  While I know that no marriage is perfect and we all have issues, I felt no need to tell anyone the whats/whys/and hows of the demise of our marriage. It was, the majority of the time, palpably miserable for me to coexist with that man.  That's all that matters. But yesterday, the realization hit me like a ton of bricks (there was some ongoing suspicion, but no confirmation) that the malicious accusations he made about me were being taken at face value by at least some of these friends.  Turns out, my silence and disdain for airing dirty laundry bit me in the ass.  Lesson learned, I suppose, but it sure didn't lessen the sting.

Depression 1, Jayne 0.

Like I said, Roger sensed what was happening.  He tried to tell me how my ex was badmouthing me.  Yet he applauded my silence.  He was the only one I ever really talked to about it.  The only one I felt that I could trust.  He understood. Correction:  He understands.

But I digress....

Meanwhile, back on the conference call, we were four hours into it before my particular character in this production was finally called upon to speak.  By this time, my head was pounding, I felt dejected, sorry for myself and my brain was somewhere out in BFE. There was zero focus on the project on which I was expected to converse.

 Somehow, the finance gods smiled upon me, I summoned enough bullshit to get through it, and shortly thereafter, mercifully, we broke for lunch.

I reluctantly threw down my salad and it was just as I was about to go back to the call (no, it wasn't over yet...the only consolation I had was that it was the Europeans on the call that were staring at a clock that said 8:00 pm instead of me seeing 3:00 AM like usual.   Bwahahahaha!!!!) that I got a call from the receptionist.  Would I please come up front for a delivery?   Despite being convinced, after the day I was having, that it was the sheriff, I walked to the front of the building and saw:

Spectacular!

This man of mine is amazing.  He knew exactly how to make me feel better and helped me mentally say 'screw you' to those so-called friends who after hearing only one side of the story, made a decision.

I couldn't tell you what happened on the last half of that conference call.  I spent the rest of the afternoon staring blissfully at that vase full of spring and love and fielding stink-eye stares from the other office females. Back off bitches...The flowers and the man are both mine.  I WILL CUT YOU.

I drove home on cloud nine only to find the awesomeness that is Roger was not yet through:

Oh my fucking Gawd!!

I didn't know whether to kiss him or kick his ass!   I have NO willpower and left to my own devices would likely end up a month from now sitting cross-legged on a king sized bed, wrapped in the strained width of a king sized sheet, awaiting the firemen to arrive to extricate me from the bedroom through a 10 ft hole they'd blasted through the wall.

Lucky for that unsuspecting sheet set, Roger was ready and waiting on the Harley to take me out for dinner, otherwise that creamy, coconutty conundrum of fabulousness and empty calories wouldn't have been long for this world.

Riding to the restaurant, I felt mentally strong for the first time in awhile.

And I went to bed a happy woman in the arms of my wonderful Roger.

You might have won the morning battle, depression, but with the help of the people who truly care about me, I took the afternoon back and trust me, I will eventually win this war.

                                         Love and spring posiness, y'all,
                                         Ach

Be Jealous. Be Very, Very Jealous

My Bex  prize booty has arrived all the way from New Freakin Zealand!!  It's amazing and unbelievably, it's even more rad in person.  Wish you all could see me!

Bex, you're the bomb!  If you haven't checked her out, run..don't walk...over to I'm just a girl & I've had it up to here.   Maybe you'll be next!
Thanks!!

Blingy Prize Bootiness, y'all,
Ach

Conversations on Friday #3

Roger was now certain that Jayne had taken his 'Let's go green' suggestion a little too literally.

What continued to perplex Jayne was, once Roger's decoy lured in and he shot the worlds largest duck, then what?

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that leaving the permanent markers
out when the grandkids were over was not the smartest thing Jayne and Roger had ever done.

After getting the net out for the third time,  Roger finally got Jayne to agree that
trying to keep butterflies in a bird cage might be a futile endeavor.

It came as no surprise to either Roger or Jayne that the unicorn
jousting match they hosted would end badly for everyone.  Especially the unicorns.

By the time he realized exactly what had happened to the ox, it was almost too late
for Roger to warn Amadeus of the impending Indian attack in the drawing room.

As he walked into the study, a stark realization hit Roger that
the promotions for the new Edgar Allen Poe movie had gotten a little too personal for his taste.

It was with great thought and trepidation that Roger broke the news to Jayne
that her carpentry skills were, to say the least, lacking.

While Jayne doubted it's effectiveness at anxiety control, it turned out that the power of suggestion
coupled with an octet of baby heads really WAS cheaper than Effexor.

Although they seemed like nice people, Roger and Jayne found out
the hard way that the new neighbor's pet gorilla was a peeping-Tom.

TGIFness, y'all,
Ach

Oh Caption! My Caption!

I need a caption for this...
I've got nothin'.

Give me your best stuff, mmmkay?

                                      Inspirationlessness, y'all,
                                              Ach
                                                     

Verna's Equinoxious Fumes. It Must Have Been The Cabbage.

Spring has sprung,

The grass has riz.

I wonder where 

The boidies is.

There you go, people.  A little Ogden Nash for your vernal equinox reading pleasure.  You're welcome.

It's the first day of Spring, and my favorite time of year.   A time of renewal and rejuvenation. But ever notice how it also brings out the strange(r)?  Grandma would have said it's because of the mild winter.  Didn't get cold enough to kill the strange off.

So lacking anything better to blog about today, I present, for your consideration, some of the strangeness Roger and I have encountered in our travels over the past few weeks...

My doctor prescribed this antibiotic for me. (It's not what you're thinking.  Dermatitis, people.  Dermatitis.)

It's the size of an average sized mushroom, which is challenge enough to get down, but what kind of fucking sadist at Glaxo Smith Kline decided to make it rectangular??  And not slippery!!!! Heaven knows I don't have a problem with swallowing (you're welcome, Babe), but even broken into pieces this sucker is like glass shards.  

Someone needs to pay.

What's wrong with this picture?

This is the self-serve, hand scooped strawberry cheesecake ice-cream I got at a Chinese Buffet a little over a week ago.  About a foot long and black as night. 

Didn't notice it until the third bite.

There was no fourth.  

Roger and I have had an ongoing discussion about what

we found in an antique shop last weekend. 

Suffice it to say that we don't agree as to what it is or whether massive amounts of lubricant would have been necessary for its use. (If Roger's right, this may have belonged to that Glaxo scientist's great grandfather, the bastard.)  

My blogdom for some hand sanitizer.

This little anatomically correct gem was at another antique store in a small town south of here. 

I almost didn't give this a second look, but something about the package beckoned me despite it's $50 price tag. 

Not really the place you'd expect to find a hemophroditic Cabbage Patch doll.  Or maybe I just need to get out more often.  

This just isn't something you pass up.  I mean, how could I?  It was sooooo happy to see us.

In case you can't make this out, it's a used condom.  Almost stepped on it as I was getting out of the car at the dog park. 

 Maybe I'm being over simplistic about it, but wouldn't it be easier to just have your dog neutered?   

Saw this lady at our local Panera Bread.  She and her husband/significant other (also dreaded, although not nearly as long) sat next to Kid 1 and I.   I couldn't help but look.  I mean, really.  I was transfixed. After about 15 minutes of covert staring, I finally approached her, much to Kid 1's chagrin. - How long since your last haircut?   25 years or more.- Is it heavy?  Not terribly since it grew so gradually.- When is the last time you washed it?   *crickets*

  Pretty sure that Kid 1 will never go to lunch in public with me again. 

                                              Springtime and Strangeness, y'all,

                                              Ach

There's A Pill For That

I'm cheating on the blog today and using it for my own personal benefit.  Oh wait.  That's what I do everyday.
 

Just taking a moment today to brag a bit.

 Found out a few minutes ago that Kid 1 has been accepted into the Pharmacy program he's been interviewing for!!!    I couldn't be prouder.  He gets it from me.  

                                              A round of drugs on me!

                                                           Rxness, y'all,
                                                           Ach
                                                               

Conversations on Friday #2

Please note that there were two (2) posts today.  Scurry on over to my awards acceptance poem post after this!

Despite Kid 2's pride in her Biology class 'brain mapping' project, Jayne was sure
 that it wasn't exactly what the teacher had in mind. 

With April Fool's Day looming, Jayne had a right to be concerned about Roger's proposed solution to her memory problems.

Roger wished he'd reconsidered agreeing to put in a switch for each light fixture in the house.

Realizing he would never get rid of his Playboy collection, Jayne decided that it made an interesting focal point in the great room.

After moving into their new house, Roger and Jayne immediately regretted ever throwing stones.

Roger's pride in the number rogue outlaws he'd subdued over the years was evident
by the new bandanna display in the living room.

"Babe, I know he's your hairdresser's cousin's ex-brother-in-law, but really?
  Billy Barty's Drywall Service?" questioned Roger

While he didn't necessarily understand the need, Roger was anxious to see
 if there was any new signage in the bedroom, too.

Twice the Domestic Blissfullness, y'all,

Ach

Bring It On! I'll Rhyme That Award Fairy's Ass Off!

It's a great number, isn't it? 

Last Wednesday I checked on my blog
And what did I see with my very own eyes?
A very special distinction...
The awards fairy had delivered a prize!

The award is a really big three
That looks like it's doing the hula.
It's posted proudly now on my home page.
(While I see if it comes with some moolah.)

I'm honored and humbled and awed
That someone thinks I write pretty good.
Especially since most of this crap
Takes some patience to be understood.

So now I must do what's required
By sharing three things about me.
And spreading the love to three blogs
That make me laugh til I pee.

                       1. Although I manage quite well,  

                           I'm completely deaf in one ear.

                           It started over a decade ago

                           With a disease named for a man called Meniere.

                           It started suddenly with some hearing loss

                           And soon up my lunch I did throw.

                           The symptoms were surely no fun

                           Ringing ears and disabling vertigo.

                           They did surgery on my ear and my brain

                           Three times with a scalpel not dull..

                           They clipped my vestibular nerve

                           And left a quarter sized hole in my skull.

                            They removed my entire inner ear

                            And that really did the trick.

                            Though I could no longer hear on that side

                            I also no longer spun or got sick!

                                           

                      2.   When I started college back then

                            My major was first child psychology

                            But history's always been my thing

                            And I really do dig archaeology.

                            I've never been to Egypt or China

                            But I've definitely spent time in Rome.

                            When I first laid eyes on the Colosseum,

                            I certainly felt I was at home.

                            Roger and I share that love

                            Of all things that are aged and old.

                            We go antiquing out on the Harley

                            And bring home more than the poor bike can hold.

                            But in Finance I continue to toil

                            Cause archaeology (and crime) just don't pay

                            But if I ever retire

                            Pyramids, I'm headed your way!

                       3.  Geneaology is a hobby of mine

                            That I don't get much time to pursue.

                             I've dug through my family tree

                            And found crazies are more than a few.

  

                            My great great grandpa first married a floozy

                            That he soon summarily dumped

                            Cause it turned out she wasn't a lady

                            When the handyman down the road she humped.

                             He left her and married her sister

                             And my great grandpa was the reward.

                             But my great great grandpa never met him

                             Cause he died in the Great Civil War.

                             There are plenty of stories to tell.

                             Apparently my family was loony.

                             I think I'll save them for a future post

                             When my funny's again feeling puny.

So now I must pass on the love 

To some of my favorite sites.

Choosing only three will be really hard.

Damn, this award thing really bites!!

                           1.   There's Allie at I'm Really Not a Barista.

                                 Who consistently fucks with my head.

                                 Whether she's giving sexual advice to her readers

                                 Or secretly wishing Rush Limbaugh was dead.

                                 OK, don't get your panties all bunched.

                                 I know Allie wishes Rush no real harm.

                                 But I'm certain she's of the mindset

                                 That he belongs on a big funny farm.

                                  I'm sending big, big, big love out to Allie 

                                  And though I'm not a fan of the perk.

                                  You don't have to be a coffee fanatic

                                  To know she's the perfect kinda quirk!

                              2. Tomorrow is a very special day

                                  One for drinkers and dancers and rovers.

                                  It's not only St. Patty's Day

                                  It's Britt's birthday at Polkadot Clovers! 

                                  Head on over and check out her blog.

                                  She's witty and sassy and smart.

                                  You'll get to laughing so hard

                                  You may accidentally let out a fart.

                                  When you get there, go find the button

                                  You can't miss it, it's giant. Colossal!

                                  She won when she named our lady bones,

                                  The imponderable, improbable Farrah Fossil!

                              3. If you haven't yet met blogger, Melissa 

                                  At her site called Preposterous Pace (pah-chay)

                                  You're really only hurting yourself

                                 Missing out on irreverent cache.

                                  Melissa's determined that Jesus

                                  Was born an androgynous tyke.

                                  Due to asexual sexing

                                  (Stand back, here comes the lightning strike!)

                                        

                                  I feel that we're kindred spirits,

                                 With a low tolerance for idiots and stupidity.

                                  So get over and read her and love her,

                                  And agree on this award's validity.

                    

The triumvirate is now complete

Wish I had thirty more awards to convey

But time to get back to the work grind.

Y'all have a great St. Patrick's Day!!

                                    Gratitude and Green Beerness, y'all!

                                        Ach   

                                      

         

L-Kat Can't Drive 55 Either

Today, boys n girls, you're in for a treat.  I'm gonna plop my lazy ass down and let my funny, funny friend and fellow blogger, L-Kat from Dear Diary.....Love Deranged drive today.*

*This blog shimmies a little if you go too slow, so it's a good thing she's more than willing to step on the gas! 

 Truth is, L-Kat's a hilarious writer, a good friend, and my very first guest blogger.  See, I'm very picky and not just any ol'  blogger can fit the bill here.  I know you're gonna love her, so when you're done here, click on over and show her some big, big love!

Thanks, L-Kat!   I call shotgun!


Guest blogginess, y'all,
Ach

_________________________________

Sit. Stay. Blog! 

Hi, dudes!  Today you get to deal with me, L-Kat, instead of Jayne.  I apologize and promise Jayne will be back soon. 

Jayne and I both love our dogs.  I thought I would use this guest post to tell you about my dog, Ruby.  More specifically what a little bitch Ruby is.  She is a smart dog.  Too smart.  She only listens to commands when it is convenient for her (treats?).  Examples:

Me: "Sit."

Ruby: "No.  I'm like ten inches tall.  If I sit it won't make any difference."

Me: "Shake."

Ruby: "For fuck's sake, you have a terrible memory.  We introduce ourselves to each other every damn day.  I'm your dog, and you are my human. Capisce?"

Me: "Kisses." 

Ruby: "You are so fucking desperate.  No."

Me: "Rollover."

Ruby: "Only if you promise not to drown me in the bathtub again."

Me: "Off."  

Ruby: "Um, why?  I'll just keep jumping up there, you'll get exasperated, and I win, so let's save ourselves the trouble and let me stay on the couch."

Me: "Stay."

Ruby: "Really?  How fucking stupid do you think I am?  You always eventually say 'Come,' so I'll just save you the time and forget 'stay' all together."

Me: "Fetch it up.  Leave it."

Ruby: "Hell no.  If I leave you this tennis ball, you're just going to throw it again and I'll have to do all the running.  Maybe your fat ass should try retrieving for once."

Me: "Speak."

Ruby: "I'm not an idiot.  You just yelled at me for barking at the neighbor cat, I'm not going to fall for that trick."

Me: "Heel."

Ruby: "SQUIRREL!"

Me: "Would you rather be a Republican or a dead dog?"

Ruby: "Clearly a Republican, because I'm not playing dead.  Now quit pushing your hippie-tree hugging-granola munching bullshit political agendas on me."

I'm certain Jayne's dogs are much more well-behaved than Ruby. 

Love and rude Ruby, 

Me

Conversations on Friday

Ahhhh...Friday.

What better time to introduce what could become a new feature here at Ach du Lieber, Jayne!?  

Conversations is based on conversations Him and I may or may not have in our dream home.*  Of course, by conversations, I mean issues.  And by dream home I mean imaginary. 

At least for now.   

With a show of hands, let me know what you think.  

"What makes you think I have a problem with making decisions?" questioned Jayne

It was all Him could do to keep from saying "I told you so"
when Jayne planted the trees a little too close to the house.

"Jayne, if you're gonna shoot the .44, you really should take it outside." chided Him.

While he certainly appreciated the effort, Him didn't have the heart to tell
Jayne that the chances of Helen Keller coming to dinner were slim to none.

"Hey Him!?  What's that number for Ghostbusters again?" screamed Jayne from the bathroom.

"I organized the spice cabinet in reverse alpha order this time.  I don't
care what the doctors say, I think my OCD is a LOT better!" exulted Him.

"What shoe sale, Babe?" countered Jayne.

"What's that? Where's your closet?  Check the garage, Baby." Jayne offered.

Domestic Blissfullness, y'all,

Ach

P.S.   *Inspired by Catalogliving.net.

           Photo credits where available.