Archive by Author

The Stalker’s Blessing

16 Jan

Okay, I’ve tried my best to keep my big, HUGE, RIDICULOUSLY AWESOME news to myself until I recap this week’s episode of The Bachelor, but I just can’t hold it in any longer.

That’s what he said?

My story begins about a month or so ago when Mr. Bee invited me to go on a business trip with him. See, Mr. Bee is a Vice President within his company and occasionally he gets to go to this Executive Summit thingy in pretty awesome locations. The last one I went to was BC (Before Children) and we stayed at a beautiful resort on Coronado Island off of San Diego.

I wasn’t sure if I would make the effort to attend this year’s meeting (buying plane tickets, finding sitters for the kids/dogs – oh, yeah, we have two puppies now!) until I found out where the meeting was located this year…

photo courtesy of

Holy balls, guys.


No joke, people. We are staying at the Fairmont Biltmore in Santa Barbara! “What’s so fancy about that?” you ask. Well, first of all, the CHEAPEST room you can book there is…wait for it…SEVEN HUNDRED DOLLARS A NIGHT!

I don’t know about YOU, but this will be, without a doubt, the nicest and most expensive hotel I have ever stayed in…and it’s FREE!!

The reason I tell you this isn’t to brag (okay, it’s to brag a <i>little</i>). You see, a few days ago, Mr. Bee received an email from work about Things To Know Before You Go. Like the closest airports, where to park, dress codes on any particular evening.

What really caught my eye, however, was at the very bottom of the page.

Screen Shot 2014-01-16 at 8.40.56 AM


Okay, so big deal, right? After perusing the email, I didn’t give any of the info much thought.

But wait a second…

A wedding on January 26th? That’s a Sunday. Huh. Kinda weird, but not really.

But didn’t I know of some other wedding happening on a Sunday sometime soon?

It took me a little while, because, let’s be honest, I’m not the brightest bulb in the lamp store. Did you figure it out already?

photo courtesy of

ohmahgod ohmahgod ohmahgod


I shit you not, folks.


I’ll let that sink in for a moment.

Holy fuck, amiright?!

AND since the wedding is being live telecast on ABC, I even know WHEN to expect the wedding to begin (about four hours after our arrival at the resort).

So, needless to say, I will be blogging the SHIT out of this thing! And attempting my very best to get photos, video, a lock of hair from Juan Pablo and/or Chris and/or Arie (oh yes ladies, THEY WILL ALL BE THERE!).

Okay, I am freaking myself out again right now. My heart pretty much has a seizure, my brain is melting and my ovaries exploding at the very THOUGHT of seeing JP, Chris, Arie, Chris Harrison in person…

Jesus Christ, people. I need some advice! What do I wear? What do I say if I happen to meet someone of Bachelor/ette lore? How can I possibly infiltrate the event without (1) tossing my underwear at JP, (2) getting arrested, (3) getting Mr. Bee fired, or (4) all of the above?





Song title: The Stalker’s Blessing by Dawn

“Me gustaría una rosa, por favor.”

15 Jan

Ladies and Gentlemen…

Just in case you happen to live under a rock, this season’s Bachelor is Juan Pablo, the sexy latin sexy hot McHotterson who is, uh, super duper sexy.

Please take a minute to appreciate him and all his glory…


It may not translate through the laptop screen, but this dude makes me ovulate when I watch an episode. Like, my friends and I almost feel like watching the Bach this season together is somehow inappropriate because every scene featuring Juan Pablo, herein referred to as JP because I am way to fucking lazy to type that shit out every two seconds, is so ridiculously attractive and leg-hump-able that he’s turned my favorite weekly show into my own version of 50 Shades of Gray.

Cincuenta sombras de Juan Pablo.


Anywho, apparently there are some stupid whores who are attempting to date MY BOYFRIEND JP. I guess I should probably talk about them too.


Below are all 27 ladies who started this season (which began a few weeks ago). The photo are courtesy of ABC but I’ve added what I believe to be very insightful commentary on each of these prospective future ex-fiancees of JP.

victoria valerie sharleen renee nikki maggie lucy laurenS laurenH lacy kylie kelly kat elise danielle clare christy christine chelsie chantel cassandraashley andi amyL amyJ alli alexis


If you have made it this far, kudos, my friend.

Stick around this season, but I have some EARTH-SHATTERING news coming up on the blog very, very soon. Like my brain has melted out of my ears because I have the best freaking Bachelor-oriented news ever. Just wait. It’s…wait for it… legendario.

Whatever You Say

3 Jun

Kids say the darnest things, right? Like Bug telling me repeatedly that only my friend can drive her minivan because “you too big”.

That’s right, folks. I’m officially too big to fit in a minivan.

fuck you kid! I’m down 18 pounds and counting this year!

But once in a while (read: hourly), Bug says the most hilarious things. And it’s not only contextually funny, it’s also his awesome pronunciations of average words.

For example, Bee used to say Ganks (Thanks), Hangabur (Hamburger), and Pah-Pah-please (Please). The last one came from her never saying “thanks” and us prompting her with a “Pah…? Pah…?”!

But Bug is apparently from New Orleans or something because everything gets extra syllables.

Mouth = May-yowth
Face = Fay-yace
Bed = Bay-yed

And so on and so forth. It’s pretty flippin’ hysterical. This all just adds to his overall demeanor; it’s pretty much like living with a drunk midget.

A drunk midget who wears Depends.

Song title: Whatever You Say by Martini McBride

Baby Got Back

29 May

This is what I wake up to this morning:

Bug: Me take off blanket! (Smiling maniacally)

Me: Noooooo!!! (As he strips me of my warm blankets down to my butt)

Bug: Mom! Look at your belly! (Pointing at my ass)

Me: That’s not my belly! What is it?


Bug: It’s big.

Hope your morning is going a little smoother than mine!

Song title: Baby Got Back by Sir Mixalot

Seasons of Love

28 May

Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes,
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Moments so dear.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?

Another year, another birthday! So many things have happened this year, I think I can only write about it in numbers…

365 days
Roughly 800 cups of coffee (and that’s being veryconservative)
One kindergartener (how’d that happen?!)
One preschooler who cracks my shit up on a daily basis
3+ old friends lost
2+ new friends gained
10+ shots of vodka (and that was just last Saturday)
One epic family vacation to Disneyland
~10 art/craft shows
1 new business website
1 old business closed (my wedding planning company)
1 blog seriously ignored

As always, this post is to weakly promise my return to the blogosphere (shit, is that even what the kids are still calling it? OMG LOL WTF BBQ)

And, most importantly (because fuck the kid/family updates), A NEW SEASON OF THE BACHELORETTE JUST STARTED and guuuuuuuurl, it is a TRAIN WRECK. Like dudes in suits of armor and trying to sleep with the Bach on the first night kind of train wreck.

Yep, it’s (HASHTAG) hella awesome.

Song title: Seasons Of Love Lyrics by Rent Cast

“I can’t use ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ because it’s obvious going to be them.”

11 Jan

Toot! Toot! All aboard the crazy train! Be prepared for a serious train wreck because this week…


This season’s Bachelor is Sean. You might remember Sean from falling in love with Emily last year on the Bachelorette. He is 29 years old, from Dallas, Texas and apparently loves (1) being shirtless, and (2) v-neck tee shirts.

Seriously, this guy must buy them in bulk from the Gap.

To be honest, I was kind of drifting off until what to my wondering eyes should appear but my old television boyfriend, Arie, also from Emily’s season!

Be still my heart!

Oh delicious Arie. God, he was gorgeous. Like sweet jesus smoking hot. He apparently gave him a lot of good/hilarious advice to Sean during his visit, including how to kiss with your whole body, but to be honest, I was too busy licking my television screen to pay attention.

Since this episode is chock full of crazy ladies, so I’ll do my best to introduce you to this season’s “contestants” (and, of course, our lovely Bachelor, too):



























This season on The Bachelor: Ambulances and crying are always a good sign.

Caterpillar to Butterfly

17 Sep

As a staple of of a child’s library, I’m sure you are all familiar with Eric Carle’s infamous “The Very Hungry Caterpillar”. Or as I refer to it: “The Very Hungry Diabetic.”

Recently, this has become one of Bug’s bedtime favorite and I am forced get to read this wondrous story at least twice a day.

As with everything, I tend to be completely inappropriate think outside the box, and that doesn’t stop when it comes to children’s literature.

This is how I read “The Very Hungry Caterpillar”:

(Blah blah a caterpillar hatches out egg in the moonlight. By this time our hero has taken a week to eat through an entire fruit basket.)

On Saturday, he ate through one piece of chocolate cake, one ice cream cone, one pickle, one slice of Swiss cheese, one slice of salami, one lollipop, one piece of cherry pie, one sausage, one cupcake, and one slice of watermelon. And that night, he had a stomachache.*

And diabetes with a side of heart disease.

On Sunday, the caterpillar ate through one nice green leaf and two packages of Pepcid and after that he felt much better.

Now he wasn’t hungry anymore – and he wasn’t a tiny caterpillar anymore. He was a big FAT GROSSLY OBESE caterpillar.

He built a small house, called a cocoon, around himself. But not really. Because moths make cocoons. What the caterpillar really built was a chrysalis. But apparently entomology is not one of Eric Carle’s strengths, despite, you know, all his fucking books being written about insects.

He stayed in the “cocoon” for more than two weeks which sounds like a fucking vacation to me. Then he nibbled a hole in the “cocoon” (isn’t there a show on TLC about eating your house and laundry detergent and shit for people like this?), pushed his way out and…

He was a beautiful butterfly. He had a heart attack from his lifetime of unhealthy eating and lethargy.

Sweet dreams!

*I am so proud and yet so ashamed that I wrote that entire sentence from memory. Kill me now.
Song title: Caterpillar to Butterfly by Omicron

Crazy Bitch (a Waiting Game update)

14 Sep

yeah, so, um, get ready for some crazy bitch mom antics from over here.


Not only did Bee get separated from all of her friends (I know she will make more friends – we just LOVE these ones), but she also got the “playtime” kindergarten teacher.

Not the one I specifically requested a few months ago from the principal.

Yes, I AM that mom.

And now I get to be THAT MOM who marches in to the school office and demands that my kid get put in the class that I want her in.

Or I could just be engulfed by my vagina.

Get it? I could be a huge pussy?

((rim shot))

Most likely I will force Mr. Bee over to the school to discuss things with the principal since I’ve already done a bunch and I super suck at confrontation (see as reference: my life). Any suggestions from parents who have been in my position before and/or teachers who could suggest a way to not completely insult everyone and still get what I want?

Oh, and my name is totally going on that “moms who suck” list in the teachers’ lounge now.

Song title: Crazy Bitch by Buckcherry

Waiting Game

14 Sep

I have no idea who Bee’s kindergarten teacher is.

NO, I’m not an absent parent.

I prefer OBLIVIOUS parent.

See, Bee’s school operates a little differently. There is not one, but two full day kindergarten classes and for the first week of school, the teachers switch off teaching different groups of children. They switch and mix and mix and switch and then finally, TODAY, they choose who will teach which students.

Can you say nerve wracking?!

I won’t lie, I definitely have a favorite teacher. And yes, I am THAT parent who emails the principal declaring the giftedness of my child and my request for a particular teacher.

I’m assuming that email got me put on some “watch out for this nutcase” list posted in the teachers’ lounge. Probably with photos, doctored with mustaches and pirate eye patches.

So now today I’m sitting nervously wondering if Bee will be in the same class with her new beasties or not (because you know that her little 5-year-old world will collapse in a heap of what-the-fuck if she is not in the same class as her little Musketeers) and hoping and wishing and praying (as much as an atheist can pray, anyway) for my dream kindergarten teacher to snag my “gifted” Bee.

I wonder if her photo is up in the lounge too. She looks really good in eye patches.

Song title: Waiting Game by Van Morrison

Power Tool

13 Sep

Am I the only woman who goes bonkers for power tools?

I swear, it only takes a measly rotary tool to turn me from Elle Woods in to a bra-burning Rosie the Riveter.

And don’t even get me started on IKEA furniture. I am drawn to putting together furniture like a druggie fly is drawn to a meth kitchen.

Yeah, I lost myself with that last analogy too.

The only problem is that Mr. Bee likes doing the “manly” work of assembling furniture as much as I do. That’s when our house turns in to an IKEA Thunderdome.

Two people enter. Only one LACK table leaves…

Song title: Power Tool by 40 Below Summer