MAYDAY MAYDAY

HELP ME!!! My damn TIVO quit recording this weeks episode of Grey's Anatomy, with 10 minutes left in the show. What happened in the end?? I got right up to the point where George is talking to that nurse, Olivia (the one that Alex slept with while he was supposed to be going out with Izzy), up in the surgery observation room while Burke was operating on that poor guy with the aneurism who's fiance left him because she "wasn't strong enough" (that BITCH!).

Then what???

Monday Morning Sadness

I just got back from California last night. I'm exhausted. I'm sad to be back. The weather was so. beautiful. I need time to process. Will blog more later. And possibly post some pics from our trip to the San Diego Zoo. What a cool zoo. Loved every minute.

Not loving every minute anymore :(

American Idol Blogging

This is a good read, for those of us who live and die by American Idol. I haven't even seen last nights episode yet (cued up in my TIVO) but B sure does have a humorous breakdown of the performances, regardless if you've even watched the show. Ever.

Song of the Day

California Love
Tupak

Keep it rockin'.

My Present to Gomer

Git. R. Done.

You know what I wish?

I wish that if Northwest pilots go on strike, they do so after Thursday so that I will already be in California and then maybe I just won't come home.

My boss doesn't like this particular wish of mine, at the moment. I believe her words were, "Un. Accept. Able."

Don't try point out to me the fact that I can just fly home on another airline. I'm just looking for any excuse in the book to get out of town for an extended amount of time. (fingers plugged in ears)...I cannnnnnnnnn't heeeeaaaarrrrr yoooooouuuu.

Anyone have any opinions on this impending strike? Other than the fact that if Northwest goes under completely and St Pauly Boy looses his thousands and thousands of hard earned frequent flyer miles, and I'll be pretty #&%$ing pissed, I'm indifferent about this particular argument. Indifferent, you say? How is that possible? I'm not sure. Give me a reason to choose sides. I like a good fight.

Sleeping Beauty

For those of you who didn't know, I suffer from clinical depression. Yep, the clinical kind. I don't get depressed because my dog died or because a loved one is in the hospital. I get depressed because I'm alive. It's all the time. It's every circumstance. It's been my whole life.

But it's not that bad. They make these little things called anti-depressants. They rock my world. Life is most definitely more manageable when I'm on my meds.

Considering I've dealt with this stuff my whole life (only medicated for my adult life) and I also majored in Psychology in college, you'd think I'd know more about depression. I went in this morning for a 2 month check-in with my doc (whom I LOVE, which is significant for me since I have never had a doctor that I've even liked, much less loved) and she asks how it's going. I tell her it's good! I can tell the dosage is working and I feel hunky-dory. Then she asks how I've been sleeping. How I've been sleeping, I think? We've never talked about this before. I've always had more prevalent symptoms to discuss. But sleeping? Yeah, I can't. I lay in bed for 4 hours until I fall asleep. Then I wake up to pee. Then it takes another couple hours to get back to sleep. The getting back to sleep doesn't happen until minutes before the alarm goes off, which in turn causes me to have to fight extreme and pure exhaustion before climbing into the shower (or feeding the dog, depending on what area of the country St Pauly Boy is located that morning....hard to feed the dog from the OC I guess, whatever).

So I tell my doctor how messed up my sleeping has been lately, in particular the last few months. Low and fucking* behold, it's depression. What kind of stupid moron am I, thinking it might actually be my mattress. I was 10 seconds away from ordering the Tempur-pedic because if the commercial says I will sleep better than goddamn I will sleep better (I am a marketing executive's wet dream). I wish I would have thought about the impact of depression on my sleeping behavior a long ass time ago because then maybe I wouldn't be yawning so hard during the day that my jaw is almost stuck wide open. Not to mention how rude it is to be yawning while a colleague is trying to discuss something in a meeting.

Here's hoping that in the next week, our technique to combat my inconsistent sleeping patterns works and that I'm alive again.


* Did you realize that spellcheck from Blogger suggests the word "bucking" instead of "fucking"? Nope, bucking just doesn't do it for me.

Happy Belated Valentine's Day, St Pauly Boy!

SPB is making me dinner for Valentine's Day. Yes, it's a little late. On the actual holiday, I was in a piss poor mood and was really not feeling Valentiney. So, SPB ditched his homecookin' idea and took me to the bar instead. We had tall beers, tacos, and played video bowling. (Can I just say 188 - 108? Yeah, I won. It ruled.)

So, we're having our homecooked meal this weekend instead. King crab legs, filet mignon, risotto, and cesaer salad. Uh huh, that's what I'm sayin'.

What is my present to St Pauly Boy, you ask?

I am showing up to dinner sporting The Gray Sweater.

I guess maybe he'll get lucky, too.

Another Good Read.

Other people's blogs rule. Mine, does not. Therefore here is another link to two stories, that I came across on my daily stop through Bitch, PhD.

Pregnacy Punishments

This infuriorates me. To.No.End.

Rolling Around On The Floor. Laughing.

Good god this is a funny story.

Courtesy of CCP who posted it in a comment thread at Bitch, PhD.

Funny Little Argument

St Pauly Boy came into the bedroom this morning, where I was getting ready for work. It's -7 degrees this morning, and getting colder. My wonderful husband offers to start the truck for me. Having someone warm up your vehicle is heaven. It might be my favorite thing about being married. (Is she really that shallow, you ask? Sometimes. But at least I'm honest.) Back to my morning...SPB asks me when I expect to be ready to leave for work. I tell him 10 minutes. To me, 10 minutes seems like the reasonable amount of time to warm up one's vehicle when it's negative seven degrees outside. What do I know. SPB tells me to let him know when I'm about 5 minutes out.

Um. Why can't you just go start it now? What's the 5 minute difference going to make? Not trying to sound demanding here*, just curious why the 5 minutes?

The response I get to my questioning is this...we don't want the truck to overheat.

Let me just run that by you one more time. We don't want the truck to over.heat.

Again. Um.

It's pretty cold, I'm pretty sure the overheating won't be an issue, honey.

When I asked him later, if he was actually worried about the possibility of our truck overheating, he said no. He just didn't want to go outside at that very minute. He wanted to wait 2-3 more minutes.

Two to three more minutes.

My husbands quirks are so cute. Odd. But cute.


* In reality, I was sounding pretty demanding. Probably on purpose. I'm thinking to myself, you can't just come in here, offer to start my truck on the coldest day of the year, and then tell me I need to wait 5 more minutes. You said you wanted to start my truck for me so go start my truck for me DAMMIT! And this is the way SPB gets treated when he offers to do nice things for me. Honey, if you make it 50 years with me, you ought to get some sort of humanitarian award.

You Wanna Go??

Thanks to Matt over at ASS for bringing our attention to the fight happening in Iran right now. You know, the fight at the flagpole at 3 o'clock after the bell rings? Yeah, that one.

I can't shake my head hard enough at the story, to make it go away.

Thursday Dose of Cute

Sweet Jesus is this kitten cute.

Heat wave...

...is rolling through the SP Household. Yes, that's right. Twice now the heat has quit working during the night, leaving us waking up to 50 degree weather in the house.

What did Billy Ocean say, that one time? When the going gets tough, the tough get going? Fuck you, Billy.

Speechless. Me.....Speechless.

If you're ever wondering what could possibly leave me speechless, this is it:

Hooked On A Feeling

I'm beyond words. There are no words for this. I don't even know quite how to process it. Done. I'm done.

Happy Freakin' Valentine's Day

I'm in such a foul mood today. Not because it's Valentine's Day, just because. But I am having a hard time understanding why people celebrate this day. I don't love my husband any more today than I do every other day of the year. Why do we need this day to actually show it? Is this day really for the people who are bad at showing their affections to their loved ones, they actually need to focus on making an effort for just one lousy day out of the year? It's crap, in my opinion. SPB and I are pretty affectionate, all year round. We don't need an artificial day to make a bigger deal out of it.

But honestly, my mood is not about Valentine's Day (for those of you who can actually take me seriously right now, which I doubt you can, since I have a rather sarcastic tone 99.99% of the time). My mood issues can be directly linked back to my employment, which is way worse than being pissy about a stupid lovey dovey holiday.

Suggestions for ways to kill this bad mood would be greatly appreciated!

Anatomy of Grey

Good lord am I addicted to Grey's Anatomy. Last night's conclusion to the "Code Black" storyline was INSANELY good. The writers of this show have succeeded. I am officially hooked on the sexual tension between Cute Intern Girl and Dr. McDreamy. The normal resting rate of my heart takes a little leap when they interact. How could he just show up at CIG's house and say, "You almost died today.", and then LEAVE. You're just going to LEAVE??? KISS her, you a-hole! Tell her your cheating bitch wife sucks and that you made a mistake getting back together with her. Augh, I'M sexually frustrated just watching them!! Oh and having him recount the last time they kissed....Dr. McDreamy, get your head out of your ass and go grab her, right now!

And the whole conclusion to the "Code Black".....omg. I was not expecting that. St Pauly Boy was, but I was not.

Oh AND Dr. Bailey and the baby and her husband and his massive brain surgery during her labor..............good LORD! How sweet is George, by the way? Don't you just want to pinch his cheeks or squeeze him, or something??

Hooked. H-o-o-k-e-d.

And thank god. I thought I was going to spend the next few months mourning the impending end of my West Wing. Thank god I have something else to fall back on, Sunday nights.

The Heat Is On

Or wait...no it's not.

Happy Monday morning to the St Pauly Family! The heat went out during the middle of the night and we had the pleasure of waking up to 52 degree warmth, in the house. It was exhilirating! The feeling of cold tile on your feet, watching your breath as you brush your teeth, man I feel ALIVE!

I've got that backwards. I'm not sure "alive" is the appropriate word for what I feel this morning. I'm pretty sure I meant to say, holy shit I am fucking freezing. Still. And I've been up for a couple hours now. I took an extra long, extra hot shower and my blood is still like ice. I drank a big mug of piping hot coffee on my drive to work (btw, good coffee this morning, Honey) and still icicles are hanging from my nosehairs.* I actually contemplated wearing two sweaters to work today. I thought that would make me look fat, so I went with a regular button down shirt with a tank top underneath. Tank top??? What the hell kind of crack did I smoke this morning. It's the cold. It got into my head and took all of my logic away.

So I get to work and call my mom, not to report this cold house issue, but to ask if she and dad can dogsit for us next weekend. Just by chance last night I told St Pauly Boy that I need to get the hell out of town for a couple days or I'll go insane. I've got a bit of, what we call in the frozen north, Spring Fucking Fever. Yes, the extra word is for effect. So we planned a trip to our vacation home** in Irvine, CA (The O.C., baby) for next weekend. So, blah blah, we worked out the logistics with the Pete and then I mention the heat issue. No lie, the first thing out of her mouth is this: "Oh no, how did Pete handle it?? Is he OK??".

Ohhhhhh, that's so sweet. Doggie-Grandma is worried about how the Pete was feeling. Cuuuuuute. Ummmm...not.*** What about ME, Mom?? I may have been the oldest child, but that doesn't mean I don't demand the appropriate level of attention and sympathy as the youngest child! I should have called my Dad instead. He loves me.

So, countdown to warm weather begins. Not MN warm weather, CA warm weather (which to those sissy little CA bastards think is freezing cold right now...I could bitch slap the lot of them). 10 days. 10 long days and then SEE ya, wouldn't want to BE ya.****


* Perhaps I should trim those. Maybe then it wouldn't be a problem?

** And by vacation home I mean corporate housing that SPB lives in when he goes to work in the OC every other week. I just like to make people think that I'm a high roller. Really, I'm just a chump.

*** and **** I cannot take responsibility for using these phrases. I'm convinced that the cold has actually made my brain regress to Junior High. It is not my fault.

Fasten Your Seatbelts

Literally. Brittney, fasten your goddamn seatbelt. OH and while you're at it, maybe you should strap your little baby into his car seat, too. Just a suggestion. I know, I know, it's so hard dealing with the paparazzi, when they're trying to threaten your life with their camera. But I'm sure they'll understand, if you just take a few minutes to ensure the safety of your infant son.

I hate the fact that I'm even drawn to commenting on this story. But I just find it so appauling that she exists. Much less procreating. Ew. EW EW. We all know that she's a moron who probably can't count back a customer's change if she were working at a drug store. But driving with your baby on your lap? Honestly?? Even a monkey does a better job at protecting their young. But maybe I shouldn't insult the primate species by comparing them to Brittney.

Ew. I just feel dirty for even talking about this. Bad Brittney juju, bad.

She did apologize. Sort of. I guess you have to give her that much.

Wait. No I don't.

Family How, Again?

Ok, quick question. Since when is the movie Cruel Intentions (with Ryan Phillippe and Sarah Michelle Geller) considered to be "family" material? I ask because it's on ABC Family right now and I'm kind of confused. Call me a prude, if you want, but I guess I wouldn't choose to sit my family down to watch a movie where a step-brother/sister team are first of all, sleeping with each other, while planning elaborate schemes to de-virginize the headmaster's daughter (as a bet, where of course, the prize is...what else, sex).

Ummmmm.

Is it just me or is not really screaming "family" programming?

Is it bad that I would prefer to shelter my children from the smut on TV that I have grown to love in my adult years? Is that not very "progressive" of me? I need to plan. For 10 years from now, when I'm ready to give up SPB & my DINK* status.


*For definition of DINK, see my profile.

Attention Starved Dog

God forbid I take 2 minutes to grab a quick snack and glass of milk before I spend quality time petting my dog. I mean, seriously. Where are my priorities?? I am horrible and Pete should really file for doggie emancipation from his abusive doggy-mom.

I swear he pretends that he has to go potty, real bad, just to trick me into paying more attention to him. He'll stand at the kitchen door and whine/half-bark at me, looking very pathetic, knowing that I can't resist his big beautiful brown eyes. I cave. He jumps up on my lap and licks my face and then plops his head down on my chest and then let's out this big sigh, as if to say, "Life is tough for little dogs, Mom!". This lasts a couple minutes, till he gets distracted by a piece of lint flying in the air. But just as I get back to my snack (because goddammit, I'm starving!!) all of a sudden he realizes that my attention has gone back to my OWN life and the whining resumes. Except this time I stand my ground. That is, until he dramatically rests his head on the coffee table and looks at me with those eyes. How will I ever get anything done with those eyes?

As I blog, he's using my whole body as a jungle gym. He is working his way right onto my lap (which is not quite large enough for a lap-top AND a lap-dog). FINE. I give up. It's all about you, Pete. It's all about you. Until he dumps me for that little piece of lint again.

I've Been Tagged

Damn you, Squab. Damn you!

Four jobs I've had:
1. Customer Service desk at Kohl's - oh lordy the things I would allow people to return.
2. Summer Events Staff at St. John's - basically moved furniture and babysat all summer
3. Account Coordinator at local employment agency. I was fired.
4. Dysfunction Analyst



Four movies I can watch over and over:
1. The Royal Tenenbaums
2. Star Wars (any of the originals and NONE of the new)
3. Office Space
4. You've Got Mail or Runaway Bride (I'm a sucker for Meg & Julia, not to mention Tom Hanks & Richard Gere)



Four places I've lived: (this one just makes me look pathetic)
1. St. Paul (East Side)
2. Hugo, MN
3. St. Joseph, MN (a.k.a. where Jacob Wetterling was abducted)
4. St. Paul (Highland Park)
(I know...I really get around)


Four TV shows I love:
1. The West Wing (deeply saddened by it's recent cancellation)
2. Grey's Anatomy (two words: Dr. McDreamy)
3. Love Monkey (ED!!! He's BACK!!!)
4. The Apprentice (guilty pleasure, I just love The Donald)


Four places I've vacationed:
1. Ireland (all over)
2. Glacier Park, Montana
3. New York, New York
4. North Shore (Lake Superior, NOT Hawaii...trust me, I'm not bragging)


Four of my favorite dishes:
1. Risotto
2. Eggs Benedict
3. Steak (medium rare)
4. Pizza (Green Mill w/Jim Beam wings as an app)


Four sites I visit daily: (I'm listing 5 so Gomer doesn't have a cow)
1. Snarky Squab
2. After School Snack
3. One Good Thing
4. Bitch PhD
5. Five Dollar Words



Four places I would rather be right now:
1. In a pub in Dublin or Kenmare, Ireland
2. In a pub down the street from my own house
3. In a pub in The OC (since St Pauly Boy is there right now)
4. In a pub, just about anywhere on earth


Four bloggers I am tagging:
1. Sadly, the only bloggers I know have already been tagged by Squab. Bitch.

St Pauly Girl Gets Profound

GodDAMN tomato basil soup is da BOMB!

Super Bowl Blogging

I think those of us who are sports fans will agree that the only good thing to come out of the Super Bowl this year is the Here's To Beer website.

Other than that, the game sucked and the commercials were pretty lame. There were a couple that made me laugh, but I don't even remember which one's, which means they couldn't have been that entertaining to begin with or I'd remember them.

Rating for this years Super Bowl is C-. Anyone else watch?

Song of the Day

I thought about it and decided that every day I need to pick my favorite song. For that day. At least on the days that I listen to a lot of music. Some days I don't get to listen to anything because I'm going from meeting to meeting or the work I have to accomplish involves brain power that I just cannot balance with music. I tend to get lost in the music, then can't concentrate. But anyway, that's my problem, not yours.

I find that on the days that I constantly listen to music, I tend to latch on to one particular song, I'll replay it, I'll go back to it, basically I'll listen to it 5-6 times during the course of the day. When I have these days, I'm going to report it to the blogosphere, just for shits and giggles. That's what the blogosphere is for, right?

With all that rambling out of the way, I will now unveil my song for today. Drum roll please.

Go It Alone
Beck
Guero

What a kick ass album. This song, in particular, bumps. I fucking love it. For today.

Share with me, your favorite song for today. Pick one. But don't worry, you won't be stuck with it for the rest of your life. It just needs to be for today. Pick anything, no matter how ridiculous. DO IT!

Daily Dose of Marler

I'm not a morning person. Period, space space. Just not. I have a strict order in which I accomplish my morning tasks and when things get interrupted or happen out of order, I get pretty irritated. It's borderline obsessive/compulsive behavior, without the ritualizing (wash hands a certain number of times, take a certain number of steps from the bathroom to the bedroom, tap the brush to the hairdryer a certain number of times before turning it on, as examples, I do not perform any of those wacko rituals).

One of the things that I must have in the morning is my morning news. To be more specific, I need my morning weather man. Keith Marler, of Fox 9 morning news (Twin Cities). I have a ridiculous little crush on the man. He's not J. Crew model good looking or anything like that, he's just a normal guy. In fact, he's a little dorky to be quite honest. I can't explain why I like him so much, except to say that he's just so dang cute. Here he is, on the left:

Isn't he just adorable? Both my sis and I have to have our daily dose of Marler before starting our day. Our boys don't quite understand our fetish and we get picked on, pretty regularily. "Keith Marrrluuuuuuuuurrr", is one of the things we hear. But we don't care. We still love our weather man.

The only problem I have with this morning requirement is that I'm forced to watch Fox 9 News!! I can't stand Fox 9 News. The 2 anchors are o.k. but come off pretty stupid most of the time. I can handle them for the most part, but I am reaching my limit with one of their "street" reporters, M.A. Roscoe. SPB thinks she's hot, but quite honestly, she's just straight up annoying. Her stories are 100% pointless and her delivery is like a cabbage patch doll on speed. Cannot.Stand.Her. I want to pummel myself in the head with my blow dryer when she comes on.

But I'll suffer through. Because I have to get my daily dose of Marler, or things just don't go right. Ask me what the weather is supposed to be like. I won't know. I'm not paying attention to the weather, but the man in front of the weather.

So cute, you might barf.

Makes me want to run home right now, throw Stinky Pete in the bathtub and then laugh at him.

iPod, Take Me Away

You can see how much I rely on my iPod to keep me sane. Right now, Jurassic 5 is pulling me back down to earth, away from the chaos, and the hyperventalation which apparently smoking 10 cigarettes doesn't help cure, btw. It's one of those days overflowing with information that you cannot quite process effectively, causing you to feel like your lungs are polluted by, no, not tar, but words and emotions and pure disbelief in what you've learned today. I cannot seem to organize it all in my brain so it's spilling into my mid-section causing quite a traffic jam on the information super highway of my veins. I think I need to label this highway in my insides, the 247. THE 247, by the way, because as the great state of Californee-ah has taught us, it's important to properly address your highways. Is it a respect thing? I dunno. It's weird, that's for sure. But the real problem with the 247 is that I always seem to be stuck driving in a European-scale compact car with no back seat when I really need to be in a stretch Escalade. And it's always rush hour.

I'm going to try to see if a combination of Jurassic 5 and happy hour will help clear up the multi-car accident that has cause the major back-up on the 247 today. I think the chances of success are good, at least between the hours of 4-6.

Celebrity Gossip Blogging

I'm thinking of making this a regular feature in St Pauly Girl, but I'm not sure I could officially tie it to a day of the week (for example: Thursday Celebrity Gossip Blogging) because, well, frankly I'm not good at keeping track what day of the week it is. Put me in a room full of calendars and I'm still going to go "today is.....uhhhhhhhh.....uhhhhhhhh....uhhhhhhhhh.....what's the question again??", you get the picture. So you know what? I'm just going to randomly blog celebrity gossip. Yeah, that'll be my bit. You'll never know when it's coming. It'll be all suspensful and shit.

On with it, good lord woman.

My favorite celebrity "top story" today is the BIGGEST mystery at the Sundance Film Festival this year. Are you kidding me? What a conspiracy. Anything regarding TomKat is a conspiracy in my opinion. But this article is delightful, making me laugh outloud in numerous spots. Such as this:

Cruise's camp rejected assertions the couch-jumping thespian and self-proclaimed sonogram expert had anything to do with the edit. Could there be a better description of Tom Cruise?? No.

And this:

Thus began the Case of the Missing Sex Scene. Dun dun dunnnnnnnn. Someone call the Utah Police, this will be their biggest case of the year!

And another high point of the article is how the description of this controversial scene went from a "...12-second scene of a hookup..." to "The steamy encounter...". Ummmmm, how steamy could a 12-SECOND HOOKUP be?

All in all, I give this story two enthusiastic thumbs up. Good fun had by all.

This Is For Bubs!

"I would dig a hole all the way to China unless of course I was there, then I'd dig my way home."

Now everytime I hear this line, I giggle. All cuz of you.

Actions Speak Louder Than Words

Alito's officially sworn in. A lot of people are wondering, well, now what? Reread the title of this post then click on this link:

SaveROE.com

Go there. Do it.

Banana What???

Is it possibly that the banana clip is making a comeback? Honestly?? I saw some "celebrity" (in quotations because I have never heard of her which means I don't think she's a real celebrity) on the red carpet show before the SAG awards the other day who was sporting a banana clip. ON THE RED CARPET. The conversation I actually heard was "Yeah, I'm trying to bring back the banana clip." and in response the stupid announcer girl was all like "I am LOVING the banana clip". And that's how it happens. Two complete moron women decide to bring back one of the biggest mistakes in hair fashion history and there you have it, it's back. And the reason I know it's back is because I saw a lady in the parking ramp this morning wearing one. And she wasn't clueless. She was driving a SAAB. This obviously wasn't a result from her recent shopping spree at Ben Franklin.

If it is in fact true, that the banana clip is back "in", I'm asking that all you women out there who even ponder for ONE second how it would look, stop yourself. Put the banana clip down (and do not under any circumstances replace it with a scrunchie....good lord) and walk away. You'll be ok and society as a whole will be a better place.