I’m saving myself from having to come up with a creative story by answering a bunch of Christmas questions to satisfy my blogging quota for the day.  I took it from my friend from Secret Mom Thoughts.  Wishing you and yours a very Merry Christmas or holiday of your choice!

1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate? Well I can’t drink and I’m not allowed to have chocolate (which I would have picked) so I’m voting Cranberry & Sprite.

Put me in a crowded bar at nine on a Saturday night and I will own that place.  Put me in a restaurant with three tables at 1230 on a Wednesday afternoon after having opened the restaurant at ten and you find that I break plates and spill water on people.  No joke.  I was delivering a French Dip to a guy and it’s a big plate and didn’t see where he had his full glass of ice water and I knocked it right over on him.

To his credit, he moves fast.  To mine, so do I.  I had a pile of napkins off the table and in his crotch so fast it made his friends want to dump their drinks on themselves.  Not only did I mop up the water before it sunk into his trousers, I managed to burst out a quick “Oh, shit!” as I was doing so.

Luckily for me they don’t mind hot chicks who swear as they towel off a crotch.

He got a free meal out of me.

Twenty minutes later I thought I could balance the stack of plates from clearing up that table.  I couldn’t.  The second after I said “No” when I was asked if I had it, I dropped and broke a plate or two.  I apologized to the table next to me and they laughed saying they had it better than the guy I spilled water on so it was refreshing to know I didn’t just embarrass myself at that table, I also humiliated myself in front of the entire restaurant.  My boss high-fived me.

Then I was talking to a friend of mine about how although I’m SUPER hot I’m not a fan of my naked body because I’m covered in battle scars from having two children, a boob reduction and a hysterectomy.  To make me feel better he said, and I’m going to quote this because it was via text -

I have flat tire balls.  Did you ever hear that when I got my vasectomy that I went to school with one of the attending nurses?  Life is awesome sometimes.  She’d never look at my balls in high school, so I paid her to look at them afterward.

Then evening comes about and I’m having dinner with the family.  This is the bit of conversation quoted verbatim we had from the dinner table -

Me – “I’m going to take Jake to see -”
Jake – “No Mom! Spell it so Josh doesn’t know!”
Me – “Okay. I’m going to take Jake to see H-A-P-P-Y  F-E-E-T”
Jake – “What’s that spell?”
Ryan – “Top of the class there, buddy”

Yes.  These things happen to me.

There’s talk at work that we might be in need of some outside marketing to bring in parties and that I might just be the girl for the job.  Although it means more work, I’m best suited for it because if they hired out they’d only end up using my ideas because I’m going to be better at it than anyone else they hire.

It does mean I have some actual work I’ll need to do.

I got my 90 day chip last night!  That’s three whole months without a drink!  I’ve noticed some of my friends who don’t keep up with me don’t know why I’m in AA.

Because it’s awesome enough to recognize that I’m an alcoholic.

I’m also the daughter of one and I don’t want to be that person.

I’m also not well and my doctor said that if I drink there’s a 50% chance I won’t wake up so that right there is a solid higher power to believe in to keep me sober.

I love that fucking group of people.  They are like family only we all admit our character defects so there isn’t much need to talk about each other behind our backs, even though we likely do anyway.

I need to unplug that air freshener, damn.

I also need to scrub my bathroom.  I keep a coffee pot in there but I lost my travel mug so I haven’t made any in a month.  I need to buy a new mug.  My theory is that I can wake up, hit brew, put my makeup on and walk out the door with a fresh cup saving me the time and money it takes for me to hit up Dunkin Donuts and get me a badass latte with skim milk and splenda.  I’m a splenda whore now.  I love it.  I’m trying to lose seven pounds.  That’s it.  no more than that.  I’m pretty hot as it is.

So yay to me for my 90 days.  I’m going to keep track until I get to 100 which should be on Saturdayy, December 17th which I have off and I’ll be at a meeting so that’s super badass.  I’m going to make my own chip out of cardboard and likely present myself with it.

I have to go grab Jake and take him to the doctor now.  It’s been a pleasure talking to you!

I had to wake up early and have to work late so I vote nap but I didn’t want to leave you hanging.  I know I haven’t returned comments in a while.  I haven’t forgotten about you, I’ve just been insanely busy.  I will do it this week.  I love you all (except my stalkers, go away).

Well here it is folks, Tim and I took our Pillow Pets Red (his dog) and Blue (my monkey) to Galveston, TX to check out the new Carnival Magic.  Rather than drone on about what the ship has to offer we decided to take the kids out for a tour after we saw Maroon 5 and had a relaxing few hours in the hot tub.  I’m sure I’ll toss some more pictures up next week but I wanted you to see what fun our kids had on the ship.  Enjoy!

(It gets better. Click to continue reading…)

So I was at work tonight and we had karaoke and I made BANK.  I’m the only server who gets up there and sings and my tables love it and I believe because of that I make kick ass tips.  I think it’s time I take a moment to thank a friend who has helped me overcome a lot of fears and anxieties all the while teaching me about building a confidence I only said I had and growing as a person and a vocalist.

Timothy R. Young, I know you don’t like being blogged about but you deserve a hearty thank you from me for being the best friend a girl could have (I love you Courtney too.  And daddy.  You know).

In the short time I’ve known you you’ve seen me start out singing with pneumonia and I sang the same four songs and I sang them poorly because my voice kept cracking.  I felt like a douche for singing those songs but I didn’t have the balls to try new songs out.  Occasionally I’d visit a show with a light crowd and you’d suggest a song you think would be good for my voice.  You’d give me tips on how to tune the anxieties out and if I dared try something new you always supported it and never made fun of it no matter how gay the song was.

In the past few months I’ve actually felt like I’ve become a singer.  I know it’s just karaoke but not a single show goes by that I’m not singled out and complimented on something I sang.  You pushed me to try new things that I never thought I could (Blondie’s “Call Me” for one and “Edge of Seventeen” which terrified me forever) and you made those songs not only work for me but you made them GREAT for me.  I never would have been able to step outside myself had it not been for that.

While our relationship has be turbulent because I’m a bipolar psychotic who has a tendency to take my frustrations out on those closest to me you’ve always been steadfast in making sure I was okay even if I felt like being a dick to you for one reason or another.  That’s not saying you haven’t douched out on me but that’s what solid friendships are all about.  You give and you take and I’m not sure if I’ve brought any sunshine to your day (I vote yes) but I’d like to take this time to thank you and let you know your friendship is truly appreciated and you are without question the greatest in your field.  You’ve opened me up to new music, singing styles and brave song choices and you sing along when people falter to help keep them on their feet.  You are appreciated by all and while at times you may feel like you’re being stepped on and not given credit where it’s due I’d like to speak for everyone and say we all value you and what you do.  Your job is your sanctum and you let us all in to forget about our troubles and our worries and let us sing (sometimes shitty) karaoke without making us feel like fools.

Thanks for that Tim.  I can’t call you T.R.Y. though.  I think he’s a bit of an asshole.