Mom to Bee

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

I’m seriously regretting eating so many raw veggies while watching the Bachelor Pad finale last night. I’m pretty sure my stomach views them as foreign bodies like shrapnel or a new kidney or something. Anybody have any anti-rejection drugs I can borrow?

Song title: Eat A Vegetable by Gary Lapow

I swear to all that is holy that I am working on not only a Vegas post but also a Bachelorette Episode One: Look at all the Crazies (working title). The entire Bee Family suffered from what I can only consider proof that Satan is behind, among other things, the stomach flu.

Puke. Everywhere.

It was foul. And exhausting.

Until I get some more posts hammered out, please enjoy this quick video of Bug shaking his groove thang to Billy Ocean’s Get Out Of My Dreams Get In To My Car…

Song title: The Dance by Garth Brooks

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Why do spam comments on my blog think I want to see Miley Cyrus, Pamela Anderson or Charlie Gibson naked? Okay, maybe they’ve got something with Charlie Gibson…

Kidding! That’s just wrong (wink, wink, nudge, nudge)

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Seriously my spam comments have gotten kind of insulting. They’ve started referencing how much they love my blog and how they will definitely be back to read more. But they are totally spambot comments. So do I post them because I’m a narcissistic attention whore who loves compliments or delete them? You’ve won this round, Spambots.

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Do other people love Halloween photos as much as parents? I mean, obviously every parent think that their kid is the cutest thing since dead kitten mittens, but do the Interwebs really care about seeing how adorable my daughter is dressed as an octopus?

I knew you’d say yes.

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I’m really missing my Kid-Free Tuesday Mornings. Now that I have my crazy town appointments every week, I’m lucky to squeeze in a half hour or so of just “me” time. Which usually is “blog” time, hence the lack of daily posts lately. However, crazy town appointments do make for good blog fodder…

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You know you live in Western Washington when there is a torrential downpour for more than a week and every time you mention the weather, the other person responds with, “Isn’t it great?! This summer was too hot!”

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Speaking of Washingtonians, I’m fairly certain that any driver who drives below the speed limit and/or disregards any or all traffic signage (I’m talking to you, retarded driver who misses your off ramp on the freeway and instead of getting off at the next off ramp, you stop and BACK UP until you can make your exit. What. The. Fuck.), should be sent off to Gitmo.

Any driver who insists on driving exactly the speed limit (it’s just a recommendation, people. Come on!), should be violently caned in a public square.

And all drivers who get out of my way while I drive like a banshee on fire should be awarded a Medal of Honor.

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Today as I waited for my hazlenut mocha in the drive thru lane of Starbucks, I got to hear a male barista decide to address the customers on the intercom with a really thick (and fake) French accent.

It. Was. Awesome.

Seriously, that’s exactly what I needed at 9:30 on this gloomy, fogged-in morning. Totally made my day.

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Hey Interwebs, what’s on your mind this morning?

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Song title: Random Thoughts by L.I.F.E. Long

So I’ve totally been in a funk the last week or so.

There are many things I could blame it on:

1. Mr. Bee was gone on business trips pretty much all last week. That might explain my “Calgon, please take me the fuck away” Facebook updates all week.

2. I’ve fallen back in to my “friend paranoia” cycles again and with the help of The Almighty Savior my therapist and, you know, realizing that I’m a stupid nutcase that probably puts way too much importance on each and every one of my friends loving me so much that they want to give me their second borns, I’m finally getting over it. Really.

3. My crazy town nurse decided to add another medication in to the mix to help with my daily anxiety. Funny story though…it actually brought my stomach issues back with a vengeance! Seriously, I had eastern European dudes taking hostages in my bowels. True story. I had to call Bruce Willis to help and everything.

In addition to all my retardedness, I’ve also become completely obsessed with finding advertising and sponsors for the blog. Mostly, I just want someone to pay for my trip to Blogher ’10 next year. ‘Cause I really want to share drugs and get drunk with The Bloggess perfect my craft.

I’ve found it to be increasingly difficult to find companies that would want to stand behind this POS of a website (let alone attach their name to it). The selection of companies is limited to (1) trucking companies, (2) colonoscopy/medical supply companies, (3) any business selling dildos and lube, or (4) Volkswagen Automotive Group (hehe, V.A.G. get it?!)

But in case anyone out their has any sort of contacts in the “industry”, I’m really searching for a company to sponsor a bad ass mini netbook to take on the trip, since everyone will be glued to their laptops the whole time! I also am just generally hoping to trade advertising on the site for funding to go to the conference.

So, like I do every time I get a case of the borings, I promise I’ll bring you some funny this week…

Coming soon to a YouTube theater near you: Bee singing Your Song by Elton John. Maybe even dressed up like an octopus, too. I mean, what could be funkier than that?

Song title: Five Minutes of Funk by Whodini

Sweet Jesus, some one find the cure for Writer’s Block already.

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Whether it was the horrible (and when I say “horrible” I really mean “atrociously god-awfully pathetically dismally horrible”) writing of the Twilight Saga novels by Stephanie Meyer or the inspiring life story of John Grogan (author of Marley and Me), but I’m pretty sure that I’ve decided to be a writer when I grow up.

Well, you know, when I grow up more.

And hopefully write better ’cause this sounds like shit.

So when I’m all published and whatever (you know, it’s a really original idea for a blogger to have, dontchaknow), we can all just look back at this really poor grammar and whatnot as the “good ol’ days”.

Right?

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Seriously, my Writer’s Block is so bad, I can’t even remember what else I was going to write for my impromptu Blog Fart Tuesday.

Something better happen in my life soon… (knocks on wood that something GOOD will happen)

Since I have about 35 draft posts that have never come to fruition, I’m going to be a huge Ravings of a Mad Housewife copy cat and post a couple of blog farts for you this wonderful afternoon!

Sunshine Productivity
I can not tell you how productive I have been the last three days. You must be asking yourself, “Why? How?! Where is Mama Bee and who the hell are you, you god damn imposter!?!”

Dude. I hear ya. It’s fucked up, right? Being productive at home is kind of against my nature.

But something weird happened this last weekend and continued until yesterday.

THE SUN CAME OUT!

The weather this week has been ridiculously great. And by “ridiculously great” I mean that it didn’t SNOW. And, well, the sun was out and it was warm. We even opened up the house and got a great breeze going through the house!

Proof that we actually got out and enjoyed the sun!

Somehow this weather change was like Redbull for the Soul (trademark!). Fuck that Chicken Soup crap. Mama needs more than bird in broth.

Any who, I not only cleaned up all of Baby Bee’s toys from Worm Invasion 2009, but actually organized our whole desk/kitchen area, starting setting up our office (finally), and started some overly ambitious projects for Bee’s upcoming birthday in a couple weeks.

It’s kind of freaking me out (the cleaning AND the fact that my “baby” is going to be two years old.)

Electronic Obsession
After a bestie of mine got a super cute tiny little laptop computer, I got bit by the computer bug. Mr. Bee and I have a huge weakness for the new and cool electronics on the market. We have iPods, laptops, pretty useful Blackberries (and Mr. Bee will be getting a new iPhone for work soon, which I can’t wait to play with!). So when I heard about this new “netbook” trend in the computer market, oh my ovaries, I wanted one. Almost as much as I want to get pregnant.

Okay, maybe not that much. I would definitely take a baby over a netbook at this point. Too bad babies don’t come with Bluetooth, though…

In order to not break the bank (and not buy yet another laptop in our roughly four laptop family), I hunted and searched and searched and hunted until I found my old Sony Vaio from law school.

I felt like Einstein when I realized that I already owned a small, light-weight laptop that I could bring on trips (like Vegas) with me to blog and look at porn whatnot. The only glitch? The battery is shot so I did have to fork over $70 for a new battery and, well, it’s kind of ghetto because it’s missing the letter L.

Yup, our former (well, she’s still a dog, just not ours anymore) (and just a little bit psycho) dog, took a shot at the laptop and popped the letter L off of the keyboard. But don’t worry, that’s not the only reason why she’s not our dog anymore (looooooooooong story). We could never figure out how to reattach the letter L and now only God knows where it ended up in the move.

But the good news is, there WILL be blogging in Vegas. Muuuaaahahahahaha!

Like the Clap, only better
Lastly, because this post has become way longer than I had intended, I was looking at Google Anal-tics again today and it seems that the Hive has grown/infected Southern California!

We used to have like ONE reader in San Diego and now the readership looks like herpes in the LA area! Hello to all our new readers and please don’t take me calling you herpes as an insult.

It’s really a term of endearment. I promise! I mean, at least I didn’t call you Gonorrhea or something.

Rambling On by Procol Harum