Are you kidding

I was finally catching up on all my blogs when The Husband decided to borrow the laptop and take it to a friend’s house to show his buddy something.  And wouldn’t you know it?  He left there.  Then last night he went to his friend’s  house to pick up the laptop.  When he returned home last night from his “quick trip,” there was no laptop.  If his friend had the NFL ticket, I would be suspicious.  So I’m down another day.  Errr.

Things get sticky

Weeks went by.  SP moved into the condo; I moved into my apartment.  I took the desk from the condo, which I turned upside down and threw down two flights of stairs because it was easy and C wasn’t home.  I accidently started dating the rare 20 year old virgin, which led me to take refuge at the condo with SP, Best Friend, and Tough Chick as the virgin called fifty times a day even after I explained that I didn’t get home until 10pm because of work and school.  He didn’t listen; my roommate wanted to kill him; and he tried to choke me with his tongue when we kissed.  That was a week old romance.

Not long after the mutual break up, C threw another party at his condo and invited the whole group.  We went because the underage and the broke of our circle could score booze.  I went because I was the DD, since I still flirted with being Straight Edge.

As I stood at the breakfast bar, watching my friends pour drinks, as I sipped my soda, C came up and started talking to me.  His friends sat on the couches not to far from us and started chanting “Rudy.”

Me: What’s up with that?

C: They think I look like Sean Astin from Rudy.

Me: Oh.  I never saw that movie.  (But for the record C totally looks like Sean Astin.)  So why do they keep chanting?

C: Because they’re jerks.

Me: Oh.  Figures.

C had to leave me and go mingle with the crowd.  The man could work a room.  His Best Girl Friend slide up next to me and grab the bar for support as she swayed.

BGF: Have you met my friend C?

Me: Yeah.

BGF: No.  Have you met my friend C?

Me: Yeah?

Luckily Tough Chick swooped in and saved me, but when ever I was alone, the scene with the BGF repeated itself.  After a couple hours, it was decided that most of the group was ready to go.  Except Loose Canon and Tough Chick.  They planned to stay the night, and so I took Loose Canon’s car and drove everyone home.

The next day near noon, the phone rang.

Me: Hello?

Tough Chick: Fae? Are you sitting down?

Me: No.

Tough Chick: I think you should.  We have a problem.

Me: What?

TC: (Sigh) Loose Canon f-ed C last night.

Me: WHAT?!

TC: Yeah.  She waited until he was drunk and tired enough to go to bed.  Then she went into his room five minutes after he did and attacked him.

Me: So she raped him?

TC: Um, he’s a guy.

Me: If roles were reversed and a guy waited until a girl was drunk and tired and then attacked her when she went to bed, we would call that rape.

TC: I guess you’re right.

Me: So how did C take it?

TC: He’s a guy.

Me: Right.

TC: But he feels guilty because he’s 30 and she’s 21.  He feels like he took advantage of the situation and plans to take her out for dinner.

Me: Took advantage of the situation?  She jumped into his bed.  Wait, did you even see her talking to him at all?

TC: No.  She was nursing a beer in the corner the whole time, not talking to anyone.  C mainly talked to you when you were there. 

Me: Ok, she’s creepy.  And she’s totally going to f up us all up with hanging at the condo.

TC: She just laid him.  Tomorrow things will be normal.  We’ll all move on.

Me: Loose has never “just” laid anyone.  She falls in love with each and every guy she’s banged.  She confuses sex with love even with the one night stands. 

TC: Unlike you.

Me:  Me?  Yes, I can separate love from sex.  Personally, I prefer it that way.  Men are meant t be used.  When did Loose start eyeing C anyways?  I thought she thought he was scuzzy.

TC: That was before the night of your big date with the virgin-

Me: Shut up.

TC: And we all went bowling.  C was dressed nicely from work and we learned he owned a million dollar business.

Me: Money sings to OC chicks. 

TC: So what are you going to do as the official “mom” of the group?

Me: Crap.  I guess I’ll talk to her tomorrow before class and make sure she understands what an f-buddy is.  I just wouldn’t hold my breath.  At least I’m out of here on Wednesday until Sunday.  You still picking me up from the airport?

And yes, the next day, I did talk to Loose Canon, but it did no girl.  All week she spoke of C with that puppy-love voice.  Always mentioning how she stayed that night with him.  I was glad to get out of the drama.  Except it was waiting the moment I got back.

I slid into the Tough Chick’s car on Sunday.

Me: Thanks for waiting.  Stupid terrorists f-ing up my airports and planes.  I’ve been waiting for two hours to catch the shuttle to get here.

TC: No problem.  I was on a phone call with an old friend and didn’t notice the time.  I might have left your ass.

Me: Which would have sucked since I don’t have a cell phone.

TC: Which you need.

Me: But don’t have the money for.  Besides what’s the point?  So how are you?

TC: Good.  But we have more issues.

Me: What now? 

TC: Loose Canon left her toiletries and an outfit at the condo in C’s room.

Me: WHAT?!  Who leaves their crap at their f-buddies house?  I dated the ex for two years and never left a single hair tye at his dorm.

TC: No sh-.  So C saw that and lost it and told SP to tell Loose to get her sh- out of his room.  And I’m pretty sure that short-lived relationship is over.

Me: Great.  And how does C feel about SP and her friends now?

TC: Well, he likes me.  Straight guys love lesbians.  And he keeps asking when you’re coming back.

It started with an ad

I was 21 and on top of the world.  I had a great class schedule, job, friends, and all I needed was my apartment to open up in a couple of weeks.  Until then I was crashing on a friend’s futon in her one room apartment with her and her best friend.  I just had to walk a mile to and from school. No big deal, even if it was 10 o’clock at night. 

Good Friend was just that when she heard that my apartment wouldn’t be ready for a month after school started.  She looked at me and said, “A month isn’t that long.  Stay with me.  As long as you like my best friend Tough Chick.”  Luckily for me, Touch Chick and I got along like two peas.  Not only did Tough Chick move down that year, so did another friend of Good Friend, SP.  Unfortunately SP brought drama with her like it was luck.

Less than a week into school, SP was still crashing at a random friend’s place and her search for a permanent place was getting desperate.  And she wanted to crash with the Good Friend, Tough Chick, and me.  Four girls and one bathroom is not a good combination, even if some of us were low maintainance. 

Thursday night we decided to all go to dinner together after I got out of class.  I was poor, so Good Friend was insisting on taking me out to get a few vegetables in me.  A common goal for her.  Joining us was Loose Canon, a close friend of mine who was also SP’s upperclassman buddy through a church organization. 

That Thursday I walked into a hornets’ nest of drama when I opened the door and walked into an overly stuffed apartment.

SP: (whining) But what am I going to do?

Me: (whispering to the Tough Chick) What the hell is going on?

Tough Chick: SP found another room to rent, and the owner wants her to look at it tonight.

Me: And the problem is . . . ?

SP: (whines) I want to go to dinner with you.

Tough Chick and I rolled our eyes together.

Good Friend: Just call him and see if we can all come.

SP: Really?

Me: We could always wait in the car.

SP: No.  No, I want your opinions.

Loose Canon: Of course!  It is two guys that live there.

Tough Chick and I rolled our eyes again.  SP called the owner on the phone; while I slipped on a pair of jeans and my college sweatshirt.

Tough Chick: You know, it’s still like summer out there.

Me: I’ve been freezing my ass off in the business building.  I need to get warm.  And, this ain’t real summer, Northern Cal.

Tough Chick: Excuse me, Arizona.

Ten minutes later, five college girls were trumping up the stairs of a condo.  SP and Good Friend were in the lead.  Then came Loose Canon.  Tough Chick and I were still trying to convince them we could wait in the car.  SP knocked.

A guy, who looked only a few years older than us, opened the door and gave us a friendly greeting.  He had short brown hair, spiked up, and glasses.  He wore a tank top with three frogs behind three shot glasses, Jim, Jose, and Jack.  He ushered us in where a guy with long hair was watching TV on the biggest TV I had ever seen.

I closed my eyes and listened to my instincts.  It was something I was relearning to do with the help of my counselor.  “Fae, you have great instincts.  You get in trouble when you don’t use them.”  My first instinct was these are good guys.

The guy: Hi!  I’m C.  That’s S.  (S. looked over his shoulder smiled, nodded, and gave a half-ass guy wave.)  Would you guys like a German chocolate cake shot?

We said our no thank you’s and introduced ourselves.  C proceeded to show us around.  There was a poker table near the front door.  In the family room area, there were two more couches and a huge L-shaped desk with a computer. 

C: Don’t mind the pink carpet and tile.  That came from the last owner.

He led us upstairs to the room for rent.  There was a student desk and a futon frame.

C: The furniture is yours if you want it.

Good Friend: Fae, you could use a desk, right?  I mean, you don’t have any furniture.

Me: I have a bookcase.  But yeah, I could use a desk.

Loose Canon: Could she put a deadbolt on her door if she wanted to?

C: Um, sure, if she wanted too.

Tough Chick and I rolled our eyes.

C led us downstairs.  SP and Good Friend went upstairs to confer.

C: So.  I don’t remember any one’s names.  What if I learned your majors instead?

Loose Canon: Organizational leadership.

Tough Chick: I’m not in school.  I came down here to get into the sherif’s department.

Me: Creative Writing.

C: That’s interesting.  What do they teach in creative writing?

Me: To write creatively.  It’s a fake major like organizational leadership.  I could buy it for 500 bucks in the mail.

I smiled.  He smiled.

SP: So, I’ll think about it and call you.

C: No problem.  You have my cell.  Hey, if you guys are interested, we’re having a bar-b-que here this weekend.

Good Friend: Thanks.  We’ll think about it.

It was a half an hour later, and the conversation revolved around the room for rent as we ate dinner.

SP: On the positive side: It includes, internet, satellite, HBO, and a maid service every other week.  It’s a nice size room and a garage space.  I can have friends over; he doesn’t have a dozen cats or a kid.  They both seemed nice.  But then I’d be living with two guys.  And I’m sharing a bathroom.

Me: It’s a guy how much bathroom space and time could he take?

Loose Canon: I say no.  Why risk your safety?  You don’t know these guys.

Tough Chick: Loose, you’re crazy.

Me: Trust me.  They’re good guys.

SP: Maybe we should vote.

Good Friend: Yes, you won’t get a better deal.

Tough Chick: Yes.

Loose Canon: No.

There are times when we make a decision, a small one, and it changes everything.

Me: Yes.

SP: Ok.  I’ll call him now and tell him.  Thanks, guys.

Recap 1st week of May

1. I can do quite a lot in the two hours I have my hands free of Aidan.
2. Woe to those adults in the house if Aidan is put down between the hours 4pm and 10pm, even if they are mislead to believe he’s napping.
3. Evan and Sean love being big boys.
4. Which leads to doing big boy jobs, like cutting cheese when Mommy is taking her 3 minute shower.  Cutting it with a potato peeler.
5. I forgot how many diapers a newborn goes through in a day.
6. I forgot how hard potty training was.
7. I am no longer horrified when I find sh*t on the ground.
8. I wish all sh*t smelled like newborn poop because it smells sweet in comparison.
9. I heart The Husband’s laptop that allows me to work one handed from the couch.
10. I have no idea what I will do when The Husband goes to CA for the week . . . taking his laptop with him.

That sucks . . . . sort of

You know what sucks?  Working on a post for several days because you can only steal a handful of minutes at a time to work on it and then have your husband take the laptop with the post on it to a business meeting on the day you’re going to post it.

The bright side: Long nap instead.

You know what sucks?  You’re eldest boys acting out, pushing the boundaries, trying to be the biggest pains in the butt.

The bright side: It’s only a phase.  (It damn well better be only a phase.)

You know what sucks?  Blog and nap time are being taken away so that I can learn to work  my mom’s jewelry site for when she’s out of town.

The bright side: I look like the good daughter.

You know what sucks?  Not being able to comment on your favorite blogs.

The bright side: At least I have my Blackberry Storm to read my favorite blogs.

You know what sucks?  Typing one-handed because your infant son believes if he’s awake he should be held and possibly fed at all times.

The bright side: I have a cute, cuddly infant to hold.

Announcement Time

Hello everyone! Best friend here… I’m so thrilled to be posting on faemom’s blog!!! She had her beautiful baby boy! And they finally picked a name… drumroll… baby Aidan. He was 7lbs and 7oz. Good lord her epidural wore off just before the birth though. I hope that’s not sharing too much. I’m sure she’ll be able to recount the story in her witty funny way that she does, but seriously, no epidural? Some of you guys are super hard core though and probably went the no drug way anyways with your birthing process. More power to ya, my hat is off… but honestly, my hat is off to all you lovely ladies who have gone through the insane and awesome experience of birthing a child in which ever way that happened for you.

She’s recovering with baby in the hospital as I write this. I’m pretty sure she can get emails and comments on her phone, so be sure to send her some love! ‘Cause I know she appreciates it.

Evan has been sick so he’s at home, and then the doctors wouldn’t let Sean in ’cause of the swine flu scare… but faemom’s awesome mom snuck Sean in for a second anyways.

So that’s pretty much the update. Over and out.

Sweating the Small Stuff

I may look like I roll with the punches and am cool as a cucumber, but I’m not.  Throw a few speed bumps in my way as I rush head down the path I’ve decided to take, and I will start to cuss a blue streak and murmur curses.  Or I least I did before kids.  Now it’s silent.  Like when I road rage.  Oh, I have horrible road rage.  I just have a hard time dealing with changes in MY plans.  It’s amazing I decided to have children, instead of something more cooperative like fish.

This adorable character trait is nothing new.  It has amused many people especially when crunch time comes and I’m as serene as a statuesque saint.  Halo and all.  Amazingly The Husband forgets this little quality of mine until it rears its ugly head, especially at him.

Which leads me to my Thank Me Later Thursday. 

Sure I could talk about The Husband, who decided to go back to bed as I tried to motivate and round up the troops for a day outing that I promised we would meet my parents and in-laws early.  I could thank him for parking behind me, for forgetting to get the plates on my car done in a timely matter, for not helping with any dressing, for forgetting to give someone a Christmas present and leaving it in the trunk of his car all this time.

But no, again, I direct this Thank Me Later to me.

Dear Fae,

Sure, you’re a planner, and you have to have things go a certain way or you freak out.  I need you to chill a bit on that.  Not that it isn’t cute the way you make up new curses and all, but you’re going to have an early heart attack.  When you sweat the small stuff, you end up doing something incredibly stupid.  Like texting your BFF, “I’m going to kill my husband today.  I bloody know it.”  That in and of itself isn’t stupid.  Not checking who you sent it to is.  Because the BFF didn’t get it.  The first person with a C name got it, and she’s the second person.  The first person was hardly amused by it.  In fact, I would say he really believed it, but he should have known as a cop’s daughter you would never have put plans like that in writing so that there was a premeditated plan.  No, The Husband was not amused, and you, my dear, looked like an @ss.  My advice is to shake off more little things, even when they’re piling on like bugs on a windshield, and to double check who you send sensitive text messages too.

You may Thank Me Later.

Love, Fae

Thank Me Later Thursdays are brought to you by parenting By dummies.

Chores

What chore would you magically have done so that you wouldn’t have to do it?

Rising and trying to shine

So Evan is over his cold, and Sean never got one.  But their allergies have struck.  I’m limping back to health enough to write this quick note and plan to write a real post today.  Every time I mention I’m over morning sickness, it hits me with vengeance.  I refrain now from mentioning it.  The Husband is gone again and has concluded he only had allergies last week.  Really, Sherlock?  What was the first clue?  Only having a runny nose?  I’m sure I had a cold because I’ve had the flu and I thought I would die when I had it.  I was miserably alive this last week.  At least I saw the doc, who, bless her, told me what pills I can take.  Being pregnant, the pills I could take saved me one kleenex ever four hours.  But I saw the baby, so cue the “Eye of the Tiger” and chant with me, “eyes on the prize, eyes on the prize.”

Thank you all for your warm wishes.  I can’t wait to read what you all have been up to.  I’ve missed you.

Posting

I’m realizing I love naptime.  It used to be my writing and reading time, my beloved blogging time.  Now my head hits the pillow the minute I walk out of the boys room.  So please cut me some slack if I post late or not at all, if it takes me a few days to get to your blog and then I stalk until I have commented on every single thing because really I love to talk and hopefully make you laugh.  I know you all are rolling your eyes because most of you are moms and have been there.  But this more for my sake to let me off the hook a bit.  Just know that I love you all and miss reading you when I can’t.  I should be back to myself in four to six weeks.  Actually Naptime Writing says tomorrow.