Walmart, You Cause Me Great Vexation!

I admit, I begrudgingly patronize my local Super Walmart and am rewarded with modest savings on Team Nugget's sundry needs. But more importantly, I go there because I enjoy the fact that Satan's House of Cheap Milk and Prescriptions has self-checkout.

The reasons are three-fold:

Being the ocd-type organizer girl that I am, I REALLY enjoy having all my refrigerated items packed into one bag. Not an unreasonable request I think, it just makes it so easy to unload once I get home.

There must be some serious overloaded grocery-bag accident litigation floating around Walmart HQ because those crazy bastards will only put a couple of items in each sack. I get that, but I don't want to deal with all that stuff to carry. I've got a toddler, people! Streamline, that's the name of the game. Even when I give them my reusable bags (when I remember to bring the things) they still will inevitably ask, "You want the milk in the bag?" No, I want to carry it with my teeth! YES I WANT IT IN THE BAG! I know it's heavy. I'm a big girl, I can handle it. Put it all in there! Don't act shocked that I don't want you to give me 15 to twenty bags to carry in the house while corralling the Little Nugget. I can consistently fit ALL my groceries into those 4 reusable bags, every week. That's why I like to bag it myself.

Chit-chat. I'm not the most social person. I'm an introvert. But I can make small talk. Without frightening people. I can't say the same thing for some of the cashiers I've encountered. This I hold to be a Universal Truth: regardless of the retail establishment, they inevitably put the most socially inept people in contact with the customers. Quick story, all true: checking out the other day (different store, not Wally), Little Nugget quickly turning into a pumpkin. I give her (bribe her with) some Smartees, and the cashier says OUT LOUD, mind you, "Oh I used to SNORT those when I was a kid..." (emphasis seriously mine.) I'm all like Oh really, that's nice, well have a nice day! All the while, I'm thinking WTF?! Why would you share that with a stranger, let alone one with a child. RIGHT. THERE. Mommy, what's snorting?...Granted, this was an extreme case, but I've had lovely chit-chat with many cashiers about how their brother just got out of prison, etc, etc...oh, and the ones who clearly don't like kids, but try to pretend? Stop it. You're not fooling anyone, and it just comes across as creepy.

Alas, dear reader(s), today I discovered that my local Walmart has removed all the self-checkouts.

Crap.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Nugget

I'm Trying Really Hard Not to Pee Myself from the Excitement

OK, I'll admit it. Every since our bat-assed crazy next-door neighbors moved in last year, we've been hoping something would happen and they'd 1) be forced to leave, most likely in handcuffs; 2) have a melodramatic falling out (no extra charge for the floor show!) and one of them would leave (likely him, cuz she's a giant be-yatch to be sure, who could blame him?), thereby causing the other to move and find another smaller place to live (far, far away from us). This scenario could also include option number one, as that's how they seem to roll.

Imagine our surprise when a trailer pulled up this morning and Mr. Crazy and his buddies started loading stuff up. Now I don't want to jump to conclusions, but either he is finally leaving Crazy Bitch, or they are doing some SERIOUS spring cleaning. It's a toss up, but you usually don't get rid of your washer and dryer unless there is something to replace it. And your furniture. And lawn stuff. And you usually don't scrub the trailer floor clean before loading such items, to ensure a squeaky clean ride.

Folks, I believe stage one of scenario 2 is now in effect! Oh. Hell. Yes.

Now don't get me wrong: I don't wish badness on these people. I just want them to take their FUCKEDY-FUCK-FUCK screamfests in the front yard and LEAVE. Seriously. I shit you not. Drunkenly screaming FUCK at him in the front yard. Dude, not cool. There are kids in the neighborhood, and adults with uh, DECORUM. Although I have to say it was a fine lesson for the Little Nugget: "See Babygirl, that's what happens when you have no self-respect."

So who knows how this will unfold. They could reconcile (he'd be an even bigger idiot than we suspected), or she will stay forever, become a drunken verbally abusive harpie (oops, too late!), and continue to loudly curse from her deck (which happens to be next to the Babygirl's swing set, joy-joy)!

Let's hope this turns out well. New neighbors. Nice ones this time. Please?

All for now,
Nugget

Dumb and Dumber...

I believe you've been introduced to our neighbors. Such a joy, it's like having our very own reality tv show right next door!!! Yea!!!


So the other night we noticed they had moved their pickup down to the back of their very long driveway. This would be of no interest usually, but on THAT day, we had received another fair amount of drifting, blizzardy-type snow. We sensed a new opportunity to mock them mercilessly, which we really don't need one, but it helps to justify our ridicule.


While getting ready for bed, Hubby Nugget and I bet whether the Crazy Twins would in fact be able to back that beast up the hill the following morning. To sweeten the deal, we speculated where the likely falling-off-the-driveway-into-our-yard spot would be. HN really didn't want to think about that as we have at one point a 3-5 ft drop-off between the two properties divided by our fence.




Prophecy fulfilled! Did I mention it was also like 6 degrees that day? So Mr. Crazy Neighbor gets out there and starts digging snow from the back tires (although it might have been easier to just shovel the driveway PRIOR to this endeavor, but I digress....), and Ms. Crazy Neighbor is standing out in the middle of the street barking orders at him. I'm sure he appreciated all her helpfulness, I know I would. So the scene continues like this: dig out tires, burn rubber, slide deeper into our yard, dig, burn rubber, slide deeper into our yard.

At this point I guess he thought he had better tell me what had happened (cause it's not obvious at all! duh!). He's really not much of a talker, really, just kind of mumbled some stuff about getting his friend to pull him out. I was sympathetic, told him don't worry about the plants there, just some irises and you can't kill them, and he missed the rock wall. Apparently this had slipped his mind because he had the "oh shit" look on his face. And I only mentioned this because it's my beloved ROCK WALL GARDEN. As sad as I am that it's all planted, I really don't want to rebuild that wall.

So here comes his buddy to tow him out of the two ft. snowdrift in our yard with a mini-sized pickup! The thing couldn't even get enough traction on the road to move the chain, and when he finally melted a hole in the snow with the burning rubber of his tires, the chain went YANK and jerked the stuck truck VIOLENTLY. In the meantime, Mr. Crazy Neighbor has his foot to the floor burning holes in our yard. By the time they came to their senses, the truck was in a far worse position than before, now perpendicular to the driveway with the cab precariously resting near my rock wall. Nose deep in snow drift. AWEsome! Good job guys!

Now this is where Mr. Crazy Neighbor has a "lightbulb" moment. He really thought this was a good idea, and that frightens me: "We're really stuck, can I just drive out across your front yard?" Seriously. I shit you not. So this is how it went down:

Me: Um, I don't really feel comfortable with that...

Mr. CN: I will shovel your yard first...(yes, he really said that...I KNOW! He wouldn't shovel his driveway, but now he's gonna shovel my whole front yard?! )

Me (barely able to contain myself): Uh no, we already have water problems in the basement...

Mr. CN: I won't cause any damage...(Oh yeah, how 'bout when you get stuck in our front yard!!)

Me (head exploding from overexposure to stupidity): Um, there are water lines under there...

Mr. CN: I'll just drive out...(oh yeah right)

Me: Um sorry no. But you're in a perfect spot for a tow truck to pull you out...

Mr. CN: (mutters to himself, stomps off sullenly...)

This exchange makes Team Nugget wonder...would he have just driven across the yard if I hadn't been home? Yes, he is just that big of an idiot. Moving to the country is very appealing...

All for now,
Nugget

Delusions of Reindeer...

With all the Christmas decorations finally brought down from the attic and unpacked, I have to say...where the heck is all my stuff?

Last year at the end of the season, I had a huge haul of deeply discounted Holiday goodies that I ensconced in the Rubbermaid Tubs of Goodness for safe keeping until this year. I have so far resisted the urge to buy more decorations this year, confidently telling myself, oh you don't need anything this year, you got so much stuff last year we'll have plenty to decorate with!!!

I was so excited to get the ball rolling that I had to try REALLY hard to not start decorating after Halloween, but now it's time, and I just couldn't wait to see the look on the Little Nugget's face when I showed her the lovely raffia reindeer nestled under the Christmas tree. But Dude, where are they? Hubby Nugget assures me that there is nothing left in the attic, and I believe him, but this makes me wonder...did I imagine all these great decorative riches? Because my little pile of decorative items is rather paltry.

The problem could lie in the methodology used in deep discount end-of-the-season shopping itself. Grab it, throw it in the cart. No contemplating...contemplating is for people who lose out on sale items. You take the time to think, and someone else will grab it off the shelf quicker than you can say...hey I wanted that! If mildly interested, throw it in the cart. Once all the Clearance items have been perused, head over to the Store's price check station and THEN contemplate whether your booty is trash or treasure.

Yes, the reindeer made it to the cart, but I'm a little fuzzy past that point.

You may or may not recall, the entire holiday season for me last year was dampened by this horrible plague that would not vacate my body. So ravaged by a secondary ear infection, I could have very well thought that the reindeer made it to the cashier, when really I shoved it next to a pile of over-priced towels (ha-ha just kidding). Except I have proceeded through 2009 expecting this giant booty of Christmas decorations that awaited my liberation from their plastic cocoon, including the reindeer in question.

Sigh. Forgetting stuff sucks. I'm just sayin...

All for now,
Nugget

What Was I Going to Say?

I had the idea, pushed the "New Post" button, and FORGOT what I was going to post about! Seriously, this getting old crap REALLY sucks! OK, getting oldER. But still, po-tay-to, po-tah-to, it's just not cool. I'm only 42. Isn't that supposed to be like the new 32? Honestly that's how I really feel. But sometimes, I feel like one of those people who remembers when microwave ovens, personal computers and cable TV were new. Oh crap.

I know, I've already posted about such unpleasantness, but I'm forgetting stuff now within like 10 seconds of thinking it!!! I get owies and have no clue how or when I was injured. I really want to get a Nintendo DS so I can get Brain Age!!! And I now find people in their early 20's to be quaint, but mostly quite annoying. I call random people under the age of 30 "punk-assed kids."

Don't get me wrong, I remember what I was like to be 19, 20'ish. But I am so over that. Now that I'm in my 40's it's so clear. 20's were all about drama (it all seems so much more important then). 30's were about figuring out who the hell you are (at least for me). 40's, well honestly, I'm really digging the 40's. Except for the short-term memory loss, achy joints and tendency to retain fat, it's pretty awesome.

And I will expound on that some more tomorrow, after I get some sleep...zzzz!

Pathetic!!!
Nugget

I Really Should Write These Posts Earlier in the Day...

I'm usually at my best when I write in the morning. So now it's almost 9:00 p.m., and I just remembered that I hadn't posted yet, even though I had a great topic ready this morning!

But alas, we spent the day outside working (mostly my Nugget)/lounging (me)/playing (both of us) with the Little Nugget, and when I came indoors to attend to urgent peanut butter sammie needs, I ended up doing laundry, dishes, and kicking ass in the Photoshop Expediency Project, which is what I'm now calling the attempt to rid myself of a giant pesticle in my (what some would call hostile) work environment.

Have to give some stats, to demonstrate the awesomeness at which the project is hurdling towards the finish line: I have approximately 4,000 digitized images depicting various works of ancient art to edit and basically re-create in Photoshop (started with over 10,000, just so you get the scope of the project). I have been averaging about 50-75 images per day, on a good day. Since the inception of the Photoshop Expediency Project, which was at exactly 12:20 Thursday afternoon, I have finished almost 1,200 images!!!

I really don't think that merits any further comment, we all know that World Domination is within reach!

Oh hell yeah!
Nugget

Don't Mess with the Support Staff...

or they will mess you back.

So I've been working on this massive digitizing project for Curmudgeon (also known in this blog as "Pesticle"), and have delivered many, many images. So NOW he decides he doesn't like the way I'm delivering, via CD, which is the only way we currently have. Says there are too many images on the CDs, he can't find anything. Nevermind that I include all data in a spreadsheet so he can find said images, but hey, when I mention the data, he says, "Oh I don't need the data, I know what everything is." Whatever.

He wants them broken down by categories, Like all the Parthenon images on one disc, all of the Jupiter Capitolinus on one, etc. I get that. But I also get that he requested literally over 10,000 images and needs them by December, and if I'm to have this done in a timely fashion, I can't take the time to catalogue and re-organize all the images in little chunks and spoon feed them like baby food. Dude.

I reassure him that we are working on a new web-based delivery system and once we get over this bump, it will all be better.

He says, "I don't care about a delivery system, once you get these all scanned for me I won't need you or a delivery system."

Oh no he di-int!

I calmly looked at him and said, "you really don't think you'll need anymore images?" to which he replied, "oh no I can get beautiful Botticellis online, so why do I need you?" I said, "you can get Botticellis, but you can't get "Villa Papyri," and he countered with "no, but you're scanning them for me so I won't need it."

Dude.

I've spent the last year Photoshopping almost 10,000 scanned crappy 30 year old slide images and you're gonna say that to me?! Wow. My first impulse was to say something like then I guess its ok if I delete the rest of these bad images because you can easily replace them with images from the internet (HAA! I'd like to see him try!!!), but I decided it is more prudent to consider this the light-bulb moment, like when you wake up one day and realize that your boyfriend is a giant asshole and why hadn't you seen this before when its so clear! Now I've always known he was an ass, but I've decided that he no longer deserves my quality services. Apparently he feels that I am vulnerable, he has been suspiciously nice lately so I was prepared for the attack. Such a little weasel. Don't fuck with the person who is working on your project!!! What an idiot!

As of this moment, I am no longer making silk purses of these pigs ear images, I am hammering through the remaining sets to GET THEM DONE, then I'm gonna burn so many fricken CDs he'll regret the day he ever set foot into my office. If I'm feeling really ornery, I might not include the data! Ha!! And when I'm done, I will deliver them in one giant heap on his desk!!! Oh yes!

Then I'll get back to work on more productive things, like serving the faculty who actually appreciate me!!!

All for now,
Nugget

Just Shoot Me Now...

That's how I felt today. Seriously. It was a craptastic suckfest. Twice a year my Dad's side of the family gets together. Aunts and uncles come in from all over the country. Big family, lots of food, lots of catching up.

Today, of all days, Little Nugget had one of those God-forsaken spirited kid meltdowns. Too many people. Too much noise. Too much attention. I so get it, I was that kid 40-some years ago. Sigh. Big families can be overwhelming.

So I spent our brief time there with her clawing her way up my torso, whimpering, crying, wailing to the point of almost choking. I got her calmed down a couple of times, but then something else would set her off, then she couldn't get herself calmed down again. Walks didn't help. Singing her theme song didn't help. Not even the Wonder Pets could help.

To make things better, I had one hell of a headache due to the impending arctic freeze heading our way.

We managed to eat lunch, but not much else. Soon after, it was clear that she just couldn't shake out of it. We left. I didn't even get to say goodbye. I was so upset I lost it before I made it to the car. Luckily Hubby Nugget got to do some visiting, but I didn't even get to talk to my cousins E or C, or my Uncle R!

Of course once we left she was fine.

I really don't have much to say about it other than it sucked. But I'm not going to let it keep us away from get-togethers. That wouldn't make any sense. So just a heads up! We'll be the ones in the corner with the screaming toddler! She'll grow out of it eventually!

It's all good.

Nugget

Work Stuff, Part Deux

OK, this is the last time I go on about work stuff, I promise. Well, probably not, but anyway...

I walked into the meeting with my Pollyanna face on (read: game face). First question: Why do we need you? Ouchie! She plays hardball! Of course she was a bit uncomfortable asking it, hemmed and hawed a bit, so i knew it was coming, and yes, I was prepared. I have worked in the Snake Pit for 12 years, after all.

I enumerated the reasons for my Visual Resource essentialness and let's face it, world dominating goodness. She's a bit hard to budge once she makes up her mind, so it probably didn't matter to her WHAT i said, but I spoke my peace. Rock on.

My task if I should accept it, which I have, is to dismantle the collection of 35mm slides and have digitization "complete" in approximately 1.5 to 2 years from now. Will do. I say "complete" because apparently they will need no more images after that. Poor students, I feel sorry for them. Professors teaching the same lecture over and over for years and years and adding nothing new. Sigh...but digitize I am. Will I have a job after that? Eh, probably not, so I am basking in my Visual Resourcey-ness while I can. See, my dear reader(s), I really LOVE what I do. You don't find that often.

I remained upbeat during the whole meeting, which disturbed her. That pleased me. She finally asked me "You don't feel slighted by getting rid of the slides?" My response: "I'm excited! We're moving to the 21st century! It's progress!" I guess I was supposed to be sad to see the slides leave. Even though my job isn't about the slides, hasn't been for years. But hey, if you want to look at the small picture bosslady, that's your call. But I'm guessing some of the faculty might disagree. Yeah, I know, this is coming from higher up, whatevs.

But at least I got my server. Victory is mine!

hoping that the economy picks up soon...

Nugget

New Battles, New Headaches...

Ten minutes ago, Little Nugget decided that she wanted to play in her room with the door shut. When I showed her the error of her ways, I was greeted with an unceremonious tantrum.

What's up with that?! Of course Team Nugget collectively said "Uh, no, no and NO!"

Seriously. Am I being unrealistic when I assumed that type of behavior wouldn't darken our door until she was at least, I don't know, 10, 11, 12? You know, the dreaded "tween" years, the period in which we hope, as older parents, that we will have finally achieved a level of functional senility that will render us blissfully unaware of the shameful activities in which our daughter could possibly associate herself? (Disclaimer: Yes, we're being positive role models, trying our best to turn her into a science geek so that we won't have to worry about boys or other bad influences)

But still. Come on. She's TWO AND A HALF!!!!

We are so screwed.

Nugget

Addition to post: Now she just put herself to bed...SHE'S GROWING UP TOO FAST!!!!!

Twilight Zone

OK people, I just met our new next-door neighbor and her daughter. The kid seems OK, she's 10, likes our bastard dog (I warned her he bites), but the mom. The woman is delusional.

Seriously. She began telling me all sorts of stories about the goings on of our neighborhood, including the cops having to break up two fights at the neighbor's house across the street, how the other neighbor cursed her and her fiance out. WTF?!!! Is she talking about the same neighborhood? Or is she having flashbacks from a previous locale? Because seriously, these people are all nice, and I have never seen any cops ANYWHERE on our block. And I'm a nosy neighbor--I'd know.

Then she starts bad-mouthing the woman she bought the house from, and while B could be a bit negative sometimes, I found her to be a great neighbor, very generous and nice. A good person to live next to. But this woman...all I can say is I hope her fiance isn't a giant ass-munch too. Are they going to be the Confrontational Twins, who cause havoc and mayhem throughout the land? We like to keep to ourselves, and she professed to be the same, but then she said she wanted to get together for a backyard BBQ. Holy Crap, NOOOO! Hi, bye. That's cool with me. I don't want to get involved with some crazy woman who thinks everyone is out to get her.

I deal with enough crazy at work. I don't need it at home, too.

Nugget

Super-Size Me...not.

So when did all the furniture get big? Hubby Nugget and I have been shopping for a dresser and chest of drawers now for a month, and we still can't find anything that will fit into our space. Granted, this is not a huge house, but it's not tiny either.

What's up with that?

Don't they make furniture that is spare-bedroom-sized? Because I think that's what we need. We don't have a master suite. But we do have a king-sized bed, and even that doesn't affect our space crunch with the chest and dresser width.

I'm just sayin.

Of course it is difficult to really get a good grip on what's available in any given furniture store when you have a Tiny Monkeypie of Goodness who is: a) manically jumping on the furniture displays; b) throwing a fit because said behavior has been admonished; c) running obnoxiously around the store and trying to escape out the front door when other customers enter said establishment; d) screaming because she wants to go home/eat a cookie/throw herself randomly on the ground in a most dramatic fashion just for sport/do whatever she wants to do with no consideration of social standards of behavior.

My head hurts.

Remind me why I decided to remodel our bedrooms? Yes, I said bedrooms. Ours and the Little Nuggets, too. AND potty training.

You are free to mock me openly.

All for now as I must attend to my whiner, I mean, Sweet Babygirl.

Nugget

OMG...

Seriously.

The Chiefs Suck.

Sigh...

At least we had fun at the game, chattin with brother and sister-in-law G&N.

We had two extra seats that we couldn't give away to friends or family (a big sign). We sold them to a scalper in the parking lot for 15 bucks. Face value: $120. Priceless. At least it bought us 2 drinks at the game in which to drown our sorrows. Sheesh. And guess what: the Scalper couldn't even resell our tickets!!!! The seats were empty.

Pathetic!

All I can say is we'd better get a good draft pick out of this!

All for now,
Nugget

Out-RAY-geous!!!

So this guy on the news just warned of impending economic doom, the likes of which we haven't seen since the Great Depression. I hear this a lot lately, but what does this mean?

I know prices have gone up (well gas is exceptionally low, albeit temporarily--I just about pissed myself with excitement when I filled up for 16 bucks this week). But what are the signs of Armageddon that we're supposed to look for?

Team Nugget is pretty frugal to begin with, so is the next step saving used aluminum foil and growing our own chickens in the backyard? I haven't bought new clothes for two years. Should I forget about picking up a new sweater for this winter and get a sewing machine instead?

Seriously, I have no problem shopping at Goodwill, but I just want to know what we're talking about here. Mass hysteria? The Real Deal? Anyone?

What would Lou "Mud" Dobber do?

Nugget

Mission Impossible

Operation Grocery Shopping has just been aborted, and my sniffling toddler has just been put down for an EARLY nap.

Why, you ask? Because Mommy had the bright idea to go use her $10 gift card at Kohls this morning. I naively thought I would buy clothing for myself. It's been so long since I've done that with the Monkey that I forgot why I just pick up t-shirts at Walmart or Target instead.

The Little Nugget HATES clothes shopping: she HATES the clothing department and she HATES when Mommy tries on, oh how she hates when Mommy tries on.

She started in as soon as we got there: she's a smart girl and recognized right away this was not Satan's House of Free Sugar Cookies (walmart). Usually when faced with that situation, she starts chirping "ki-ki!!! ki-ki!!!" (cookie). No, this time it was "Go Bye-Bye!" "Go Bye-Bye!"

Not a good sign.

Not one to be bossed by my child, I came equipped with an arsenal of distractions, from elmo, books, doodlepro, electronics, snacks, all to make the experience a bit more pleasant for her and to give me a bit more time to shop.

So nothing was working out clothing-wise (I wanted to stay in the $10 range of course), so we headed to the kids department, and faced with the fact that we weren't leaving yet, someone lost her shit. Didn't care what we looked at, what toys I stuck in her face, what clothing I let her de-shelve (I was desperate at this point). She came unhinged. Somewhere on the dash to the cash register, she lost her pacifier, and this pissed her off to infinity. I wasn't about to go back and look for it.

So I wheel my howling child up to the cashier and there's a line. I almost thought I should abandon ship and get her out of dodge for the sanity of the other shoppers. But hey, I had to use the gift card, it was going to expire, and I don't get to Kohls very often. So we stood in line. Screaming and snotting. It was a sight, I'm sure. Once it was clear to everyone that I had no intention of leaving without purchasing Little Nugget's Elmo book and red leggings, an additional check-out lane was opened just for our convenience. How awesome is that?!

So the Monkey continued her protest out the door, in the car, down the street, in the house and FINALLY chilled out when I scooped her up to snuggle. She fell asleep in my arms and I put her down for a nap, 2 hours early, I might add.

So that's how our morning's been, good times! And we still have no milk.

Grr.

Time Keeps on Slippin' into the Future...

OK, so I've never been tremendously bothered by my age. I'm 41. Aside from the fact that my joints ache and my knees sound like crunching celery when I walk up stairs, the Nugget chassis is hangin in there pretty well. So I've never really thought of myself as being middle-aged. But recently I've been assaulted with little tidbits of reality that shock the system and remind me that I'm not 31 (which is a more accurate representation of how old I feel).

The first one was an episode of SNL where the Beastie Boys performed (this was several months ago), and I was surprised to see that they were no longer frozen in time at the age of 24, but they were sporting a little salt-n-peppa:

Very dapper, wouldn't you say? I'm not complaining, but it was startling.

So I'm listening to the radio last week, and the local dude is interviewing Henry Rollins (former front man for Black Flag). HR casually mentions he's 47! Wait, how did this happen? OK, I know I'm 41, but how is HR 47!!!

Out of curiosity, I looked up Siouxsie Sioux on Google images, and she looks fabulous, at least in this pic:

I don't know if she's had any work done, but she's 51. Did you catch that? SIOUXSIE SIOUX IS 51 YEARS OLD!!! God, how old does that make Robert Smith (the Cure)? Let me look it up in another tab: oh my Lord, he's 49:

Ok, he seriously needs to get a new look. Even I gave up wearing all black, and I never looked back.

I digress.

I had a point here, and it's not "oh woe is me, I'm old." It's more like, "wow, time sure flies, better get to those things I always meant to do but never made time for." I'm not talking bucket list here, I'm just saying I better get busy! I've got lots of stuff to do!!! Time's a wastin!

That's all for now,

Nugget

VOTE!

I don't care who you vote for, just vote. (well, I mean be informed as well, not just randomly go in there and vote for any fool that strikes your fancy)

I am the Nugget, and I approve this message.

The Devil Wears Buttercream Frosting...

Just a general observation. And I know this, so why am I fooled everytime? I think I can handle it, but who am I kidding. I'm defenseless around buttercream frosting. I'm sure I'm not alone. So for those of you out there who share my affection for icing, DON"T buy an Elmo birthday cake made of cupcakes. Why, you ask?

• The cupcakes are held together with icing!!!! Good Lord.
• Elmo is fuzzy. So they make Elmo fuzzy. With icing.

But it was a very cute cake, and pics will be posted of the festivities after I come down off my sugar high.

Nugget

Does that Coffee Come in an IV Drip?

Holy crap, people. I'm tired. No amount of coffee's gonna shake that feeling. Know why? Because I'm friggin' OLD! I've entered the lovely stage of life known as perimenopause. What's that mean? It means I'm OLD. I was in denial for a little while, you know, I told myself that it was just my hormones being all freaky and such from having the Little Nugget. Well, that was a good excuse for about 6 months, but now there's no denying it. I don't remember reading about post-partum hot flashes.

Hormones can be a bitch, you know? Who'd of thought they could screw with your sleep patterns in such an insidious manner. I sleep good for about 3 hours, then BOOM! I wake up about every hour after that. I didn't even hear my alarm screech in my ear this morning. What's worse is I think I turned it off while I was still asleep. My poor dream journal is pretty bare right now since I'm not sleeping deep enough to even have any freaky-assed dreams.

For those of you who are concerned that my entry into old-agedness will effect the chances of having another nugget, rest assured we are done. We got a good one, and we're happy with that. Plus she's a handful. In a good way.

Do they make coffee flavored soy?

All for now,
Nugget

Respect My Authoritay!!!

Hijinks ensued at work yesterday. I happened into my copystand room (where I keep the copystand camera & various other office supplies/crap I don't use any much anymore) just down the hall from my office. I had been sorting and organizing (two of my faves) so the place was a bit messy when I left it. HOWEVER, when I unlocked the door and peeked in, IT HAD BEEN CLEANED (read: my space was VIOLATED). Nothing gets the Nugget riled faster than 1) people messing with my shit, and 2) colleagues disrespecting my authoritay. So OK, I get #2 a lot, and I deal, but DON'T MESS WITH MY SHIT! There is a place for my sticky notes, and my sticky notes go in THAT place, not some arbitrary place that some student assistant decides is a better place. There IS no better place. I am the queen of organizing.

Oh yes, did I mention pillaging of office supplies was involved? Oh yes it was. Storage boxes, my beloved Pilot G2 gel roller pens to name a few things (read: some of my favorite things!).

Although I have to say that I'm a little excited that I get to make a trip to the most awesome Depot in the world to replenish my sad little office supply stash.

Take that, little offender! I told you, right upside the head!

All for now,
Nugget