This ruins my entire Halloween costume

So, I broke my finger:


Please note: I am not doing the "live long and prosper" on purpose....that's just the only way my hand moves.

To make a long drawn out story really short I will only say that some jackass slammed my finger into a metal door. The damn thing swelled up to 3 times its original size and the good doctor burned (BURNED! WITH FIRE!) a hole into my fingernail to drain the excess blood. That was 24 hours ago and I am still bleeding.

Anyway, the thing I am most upset about is the fact that this ruins my awesome Halloween costume. I was going to dress up as Rogue from the X-Men. My hair looks awesome with the white streak (yet it doesn't look good with the natural gray; go figure). The biggest problem I have is that I can't fit the damn glove over my bandaged hand.

Any ideas on what I can dress up as (while still hiding my hand)? I suck at short notice stuff like this. And no Gue, I am not going as the guy from the Wendy's commercials.

What I am reading: The Cupcake Round-Up results are in!
What I am listening to: The Perishers - Come Out of the Shade.

Sleepy Time Strife

I know that right about now you are looking at this picture and thinking that Mr. Little Man doesn't look too happy with my choice of (weird) Halloween costume for him. You would be wrong.

That is not any part of a costume. He is wearing his PJs and his swim gear; flippers and paddles folks! What he is unhappy about is the fact that it's bedtime, not beach time. Although I do see how the two are easily confused.

What I am reading: Duh, Dr. Seuss' Sleep Book
What I am listening to: Giuseseppino - Fuggi, fuggi, fuggi da questo cielo. Its one of our favorite bedtime songs.

Christmas season starts today

The Toys 'R Us BIG Christmas catalog arrived in today's paper. Apparently it's that time of the year again.

For the last 4 hours Mr. Little Man has been sitting very patiently thumbing through the catalog. He has taken particular interest in the video games.

Everytime we see a commercial for the Sony Wii Mr. Little Man plays along to whatever is going on on the screen. If the gamers are golfiing so is he, if they are playing tennis so is he, if they are jumping rope so is he; you get the point.

As far as hints go I would venture to say this a big one. My father has been wanting to buy him a Wii since this summer but there is still a huge part of me that thinks a 5 year old should be playing outside, not sitting in front of the TV playing video games.

Mr. Little Man does play commputer games...but only educational computer games that teaching spelling and math. He likes it. Does Wii have something like that? Am I over reacting and putting too much thought into this? I need advice. Shoot me an email and tell me what you think if you have both a Wii and a small child.

What I'm secretly hoping will happen: The producers of Heros will realize that Nichelle Nichols is tragically underused in their show. Wake up - this woman played Uhura!! She is sci fi royalty and all the geeks will tune in just to see her (and that crazy circa 1978 Farrah Fawcett hair you've got her rockin'). It's a fanboy's wet dream.
What I am listening to: Kendall Payne - I Will Show You Love. I heard it on a TV show last week, liked it, downloaded it.

New York Confidential

Confidential to the man that accosted me on 7th Avenue in Manhattan on Saturday night: Initially I thought you were a little bit weird because you serenaded me; I knew you were an absolute psychopath when you threatened to burn me with a cigarette if I didn't give you my phone number. I believe you realized I was the nuttiest of all when I threatened to kick you in the nuts and light your sorry ass on fire if you didn't get the fuck away from me. Seriously, don't try to intimidate women you do not know. There are a lot of crazy people out there. And now you know I am one of them.

Confidential to the powers that be: I think it would be awesome if you would allow me to find my gray matte jersey cardigan. I have rockin' new boots and they'd match so beautifully together.

Confidential to Dillon Campbell: Thanks so much for inviting me to your show. I had a Gala and couldn't attend, but you're awesome, so I'll catch your next show.

Confidential to everyone at the conference: It is so nice to see everyone again. I love hanging out and laughing with you all, but you need to go home. I have gone out 4 nights in a row. I can not continue to live this rock and roll lifestyle. I miss my son, I miss sleep, I miss eating less that the guy who died of gluttony in the movie "Seven". The sooner you go home the sooner I can continue my quiet suburban life. And give my liver time to heal...before the next convention.

What I am reading: All my energy is focused on the conference. What little time I have left goes to Mr. Little Man. We still get to eat breakfast together and I still put him on the bus every morning, but for the last 4 days the nanny has made him his dinner and that makes me sad.
What I am listening to: Lots of accents. Those Scotsmen could honestly just come to my house and read me the phone book and I'd be happy.

I need Tim Gunn

The industry I work in has an annual conference that attracts thousands of people from all over the world. Its actually a fun affair. This year (for the first time ever) the conference will be held in New York. Since this is our home territory we are playing host of several affairs. And I have NO idea what to wear.

I am able to dress myself for most occasions, but because we'll be going out and about with folks from several countries I am trying to conform and I have lost all sense of normality. The Europeans generally tend to overdress and the Asians arrived a week ago to shop the latest in what I will only describe as "denim couture"...and actual couture. The folks from South America just dress boldly.

My schedule:
Friday night - dinner in NYC
Saturday - dinner in NYC, followed by a Broadway show
Sunday - Football game, Gala convention kick off (black tie)
Monday - dinner in NYC
Tuesday - cocktail reception starting at 11. In the morning.

I'm not sure what is happening for the rest of the week because after 5 days of continual going out I will be bowing out of the festivities for sleep.

It is non stop action and I have considered so many outfits that I think my head is about to explode. I don't lack clothes; I've got lots to choose from (63 pairs of pants alone). I just don't know what to wear.

My biggest problem is the Gala. A week ago I narrowed my selection to 6 dresses (all hanging in my closet). Last night I sent pictures of the final 3 possibilities to the bitch posse and all of the dresses got an equal number of votes. (SIDEBAR: In a freakish twist of fate the strapless dress is actually the dress that shows the least amount of cleavage. Also, depending on water retention it may or may not make me look like a linebacker. I have tried in vain to find a way to hide my breasts, including, but not limited to, searching for a turtleneck dress, but that just makes things worse.)

I need to find Tim Gunn and he needs to dress me. I also have a little bit of a crush on him, but that is beside the point. MAKE IT WORK!

What I am reading: New shipping regulations to Africa. No, really.
What I am listening to: Stronger - Kanye West. The Gala will feature a band. I'm pretty sure the band won't perform any Kanye songs.

Who said anything about getting pregnant?

In my never ending quest to find an answer to my hormonal problems my doctor sent me to get an ultrasound. Ultrasounds are usually a rather quick affair. The doctor just wanted to get a few pictures of my ovaries; nothing terribly exciting. She promised me it would be fast ("in and out in under 5 minutes") so I made the appointment to coincide with my lunch hour.

I've been seeing these doctors since I got pregnant. They delivered my son and everyone in the office is really nice and accommodating. Because I had a high risk pregnancy I had an ultrasound every month. The technician and I go way back and we've bonded. Afterall, she did take the first pictures of Mr. Little Man.

So, I get to my appointment and the tech and I make small talk and she commences with the 'sound. Five minutes pass. Ten minutes pass. Fifteen minutes pass. By the 20 minute mark I am staring to think that my doctor is a big fat liar; five minutes my ass. The technician is measuring everything and taking furious notes. I'm all kinds of confused because I've been thinking that things really should be going just a tad faster than they actually are. Things are completed at the 30 minute mark and then she launches into her spiel about things I can do to increase my chances of getting pregnant.

What I am thinking:
Thought #1 - Would it be rude of me to run from this room?
Thought #2 - Dude, I know all this. I took health. In high school.
Thought #3 - Wait a minute, why does she think I'm trying to get pregnant?

I finally ask her why she is giving me advice that will be completely lost on me.
Me: Ummmm, is there a specific reason that makes you think I'm trying to get pregnant?
Her: Your chart says you are.
Me: WHAT? WHY? I JUST NEED MY OVARIES MEASURED.
Her: Yes, because you are trying to get pregnant.
Me: No, I'm not.
Her: Let's get the doctor.
Me: I think thats a brilliant idea; lets.

It turns out she had the wrong file. No, really. I'm just glad I was there for an ultrasound and not, lets say, in vitro fertilization. Because that would have been awkward.

Now, the icing on the cake comes today. I go to Walgreen's to have my prescription filled. While I am there I pick up a few incidental things (toothbrushes, conditioner, nail polish). The cashier rings everything up and I head out the door with my bag and a smile.

When I get home I discover that something inadvertently made it into my bag that I did not purchase. That something was....wait for it....a pregnancy test.

Honestly? I'm beginning to feel like the universe is trying to tell me something.


What I am listening to: Ray Lamontagne - Shelter

Dude, I am old

I have been feeling old lately. I'm not sure why, but before you say it let me just stop you by telling you it isn't because of CD. He is the one that is wise beyond his years and I am the immature child.

Because I love lists, here you go:

1. I had lunch with my boss today. After splitting a bottle of Pinot Noir (Coppola 1996) he ordered the port wine flight for each of us and I think I am tanked. This will also explain any / all grammatical & spelling errors in this entry.
2. Mr. Little Man has been accepted to a new program for autistic kids in our area. I just met with the director this morning to complete all the paperwork. The entire time he was speaking to me I could only think about how he couldn't possibly be old enough to grow facial hair. Seriously? I own shoes that are older than that kid.
3. I nap on the weekends. Sleep. During the day. Not because I stayed out late the day before, but because I am tired.
4. Premature ovarian failure
5. There are 6 children in Mr. Little Man's class. I am the oldest parent. I was 28 when I had him but apparently I am throwing off the curve.
6. I no longer remember what my natural hair color is (you know, other than the gray), because I haven't seen it in about 17 years.
7. Had I stayed married yesterday would have been my 11th wedding anniversary.

What I am reading: Entertainment Weekly. Kat got me a subscription a couple of months ago.
What I am listening to: Placebo - Running Up That Hill

Shut Up Ann Coulter!

Here's how you lovely folks at home can play along:

1. Go here and read this article.

2. Say it with me, "Shut up Ann Coulter"

Sometimes I hear the things this nut job says and I am amazed that she still continues to draw breath.

Dexter

During the summer I feel in love with the show Dexter. You know, the one on Showtime about the serial killer? Michael C. Hall? Brilliant plot twists and funny in a serial killer kind of way? No? Yes?

Also during the summer, on June 11 to be exact, my home phone stopped working. I had no TV, no internet, nothing. I was crippled. After begging the lovely folks at Verizon for 2 months to come and fix it I finally told them to fuck off and moved to another provider. This was not as easy as it sounds because it took the new provider 4 missed appointments to actually show up. Honestly? I was beginning to feel like the powers that be did not want me to have cable or internet or a phone.

So anyway, the lovely cable man comes to install and he gives me the spiel about all the channels I'll have. Apparently HBO will be free for a month. I jokingly told him that I didn't really care about HBO because all I really wanted to do was lay in bed and watch Dexter (apparently Showtime is only free for the first 24 hours). I excused myself and let him finish the installation.

Well a full 2 weeks later I'm channel surfing when I come across Weeds on my TV. It took me a while to realize that Weeds is on Showtime. Ergo, I have Showtime. I checked the other TVs in the house and guess what? NO SHOWTIME. Showtime only plays in the bedroom. And why is that? Because I want to lay in bed and watch Dexter. And also because the powers that be do in fact want me to be happy.

Right then and there I vowed to marry that cable man if he ever crossed my path again (I don't think anyone realizes how little it takes to make me truly happy). Seriously, he went out of his way for me and it made me so happy. I then proceeded to call all my friends and give them the glorious news. And guess what happened after that? Showtime stopped working. The night before the season premiere of Dexter. Curses to the cable man and curses to the powers that be!

I suppose I could just make my life easy by paying for Showtime, but I am notoriously cheap. And these days you can download everything. And when that fails you can just watch it for free on YouTube.

What I am reading: The Memory Keeper's Daughter - Kim Edwards
What I am listening to: Drivin' Me Wild - Common & Lily Allen. I like these folks individually, but I love them together

Overheard at lunch

You think you're just gonna go have a slice with a girlfriend, but then you hear the pimply teenager behind you say, "Dude, that was way worse than the time I got gonorrhea."

And just like that their conversation becomes much more interesting than your own.

What I am reading: Middlesex - Jeffrey Eugenides
What I am listening to: The Way I Am - Ingrid Michaelson. This has alot to do with that damn commercial.