first off, yes, i’m ok. i haven’t died, changed my identity and moved away, or forgotten about you. i’ve just been off. uninspired. material-less. humor challenged. whatever you want to call it–that’s me. so thank you all for the emails that basically read like this: HEY! WHAT THE FUCK? WHEN YOU GONNA BLOG?

well, my friends, the answer is…now.

friday with the threat of hurricane ike looming overhead, tommy and i did what most people would do before a potential natural disaster…we went to a fund raiser. and not a cheap one. i didn’t mind paying $200 a person for this event because it’s for a really good cause. and no, it wasn’t women without handbags or something insane like that (although, note to self: check out possible venture into charity for designer purse-less gals). anyway, we got to the venue and there was a band and an open bar and people in line for food. i was starving so after receiving my glass of pinot grigio (of course) i made a beeline for the food. now let me just say that history shows i’ll eat just about anything. i was raised on fried spam sandwiches for christ’s sake. but even rednecks draw the line somewhere. and the food at this event was…well, let’s just say it can be summed up in a 2 syllable word–GA-ROSS! i tried to eat it. i really did. i was that hungry. but i couldn’t do it. after two hours of shmoozing and listening to my stomach grumble, i told tommy it was time to go. plus i wanted to check out exactly where ike was so that i could “brace myself” for the big event. side note: as you know we live in fort worth. we are usually a safe distance from hurricane action. but this time those meteorologists/sadists scared me into thinking we were going to get hit with ike’s leftovers. all of our soccer games were cancelled in advance (thanks ike!) and the tcu football game was moved from 6pm to noon on saturday, grocery stores were packed with people buying bottled water, batteries and duct tape. so i sort of bought into all of the hype and prepared my own way. i bought a brisket to cook. because nothing says hurricane preparedness like the aroma of beef brisket filling your house.

so we got home and i forgot all about being hungry once i got sucked into all the coverage. i finally gave up waiting for ike to hit and went to bed. i woke up around 5am and ran to the kitchen to turn on the tv. sure enough, ike hit at a category 2 and was headed our way. it was already beginning to rain. i put the brisket in the oven and waited. harley woke up around 8 and came running, screaming, “have we been hit by the hurricane yet?” sadly, i shook my head and said, “harley, it looks like ike took a sharp right turn and is headed for tyler. it’s not even a hurricane anymore. it’s only a tropical storm with 50-75 mile an hour winds.” she looked outside and then back at me. “dang it,” she said. and then in almost the same breath she said, “so they cancelled my soccer game for nothing?” all i could do was nod my head (and grin like a baboon on the inside). i had to act like i was upset about that too. whatever will we do now on a saturday with no soccer? boo-hoo.

then! tommy appeared and announced that he was taking ethan to the tcu football game and that they would be gone ALL AFTERNOON. holy shit–the universe was smiling on me. i’d never been so happy in all my life…this week. i thought about all the writing i could get done, or maybe i could go get a massage or maybe a pedicure–or better yet– a massage AND a pedicure.

nope. instead, i opened my new thousand piece jigsaw puzzle and began working it. there’s something terribly wrong with me. send help.

i finished it in two days. it was so fun. i couldn’t stop. i willed myself, please, for the love of all things good and mighty, please stop. but my inner puzzle lunatic self (i call her pam the puzzle diva) wouldn’t listen to my rational self and continued to work away despite all the crying and yelling. it was exhausting having to referee pam and bradford’s (my rational, mature, responsible self–he doesn’t get much playing time to say the least) arguments over whether or not to stop with the puzzle nonsense and be productive. bradford, using his wit and booksmarts, dangled something shiny in front of pam and she forgot all about the puzzle and the spell was broken. but, i decided not to write (this is where the being uninspired part comes into play) and went to see the movie, the women, instead. i highly recommend this movie, but only if you have a vagina. no man in his right mind should see this movie. in fact, my friend ellen, who was with me, pointed out that not one man appeared in the entire movie. not one. not even in the background. oh, here’s what we consumed while watching the movie: a pitcher of beer, an order of buffalo wings with ranch AND bleu cheese dressing, french fries, and chips and queso. ask me how much was left. none. i even think at some point i licked the inside of the queso bowl. hey, no one saw me. it was dark in there.

i came home to the most wonderful smell. i thought, how sweet. tommy’s cooking something. oh dear, i think it might be burning. i yelled, “tommy…” and then stopped in my tracks. it all came rushing back to me. TOMMY WASN’T COOKING SOMETHING—I WAS!!! i ran to the oven, opened the door, and was horrified to find my once beautiful brisket was now a blackened, perfectly seasoned, brick/door stopper. tommy came into the kitchen, took one look at my offerings of food and said, “no thanks. i’m trying to give up tree stumps. too much fiber.” hardy har har. leave the comedy to me, mister-you-are-not-funny-man.

the brightside? i needed a doorstop for my closet door that keeps shutting. i carried it into my bedroom, put it down in front of the door and walked away. 10 minutes later i found my 3 degenerate dogs gnawing at what was left of my once perfectly seasoned doorstop. i screamed, “what’s the matter with the canines in this family? does not one of you respect my things? out with you before i salt, pepper and over cook all of YOU!” i looked at the sad excuse for a doorstop, picked it up and threw it in the garbage. so much for being prepared for a natural disaster. thanks a lot, ike!

sunday morning i got up early to finish my puzzle. yes, i’m fully aware that i have a sickness. but frankly i don’t give a shit. i could have worse hobbies. like crack. or midget porn. or cutting out pictures of puppies and scrapbooking them. or cutting out pictures of puppies and scrapbooking them while watching midget porn while doing crack. you understand I’M on crack–not the midgets, right? i wouldn’t want to give porn making midgets a bad reputation. just so we’re clear. so i finished the puzzle, high fived myself and then walked around the house feeling especially light on my feet. like i just accomplished some great task. i returned to gaze upon its finishedness, when i saw this guy (backwards-wearing-soccer shirt-don’t-comb-my-hair-i-gotta-penis-and-you-don’t-boy) taking apart my puzzle! i screamed, “why you little…” and decided NOT to call him a bastard, ran toward him and he giggled and squealed. this was a game to him! i scooped him up off the table, put him down on the floor and gave him 5 seconds to run before i was coming after him. harley, in the meantime, jumped on the table and began putting the puzzle back together. seems a six year old can do it. bummer. i thought i was exceptional. turns out i’m only as smart as a first grader.

you want to hear the really pathetic part? i still have the puzzle sitting out. i know i should put it back in the box and hide it from myself–or give it to someone so i won’t be tempted to work it again anytime soon, but i can’t. i’m thinking of building a shrine for it. i know, it’s unreasonable. ooh, maybe i’ll be one of those people who glues it together and then frames it and hangs it on the living room wall. i’ll give that some serious thought. right after i start cutting out pictures of puppies for my new scrapbooking hobby.

here’s another thing. i’m reading ALL OF THESE BOOKS right now. i’ve started all of them and haven’t finished any of them. i must read the friday night knitting club for book club next month. but since i know it’s not until the end of october, i’m putting it off. i’m almost finished with eileen cook’s unpredictable (remember she’s the author who gave me a blurb for my book cover–love her) and it’s a cute story. i can totally relate to the main character. she’s a maniac. i’m about 1/2 way through the secret life of bees (movie is coming out soon, i want to finish it before it does), and i’m in chapter 4 of the doctor’s wife. the other 2 i’ve just started. i don’t recommend doing this (reading 6 books at once–i’m getting the characters and the storylines all confused and jumbled–it’s like a REALLY bad lifetime movie) unless you would like to experience what being addicted to crack is like–or so i imagine.

to add to a my already puzzle working, procrastinating, busy mother of four life, it appears i’m getting sick. in fact, everyone in my family is sneezing, coughing, achy and generally pissy. there’s a shortage of tissues now and we all seem to be hoarding them in our hiding places. the older girls have them stuffed in their drawers, tommy stole a box and locked it in his office, harley snuck some under her bed and ethan put a wad of tissues down the front of his pants. rest assured i won’t be using those to wipe my nose.

maybe instead of buying a brisket/perfectly seasoned doorstop for hurricane preparedness weekend, i should have bought kleenex and nyquil…and maybe some throat lozenges.

my luck changed when yesterday tommy said, “you wanna go to the dallas cowboy game tonight and sit on the 9th row behind the cowboy bench?” i gasped and was all, “does your driving annoy the SHIT out of me?” he stopped for a minute, thought about what i said and replied, “does that mean you DO want to go?” i jumped up and down–and then stopped because i was getting whoozy. “hell yeah, i wanna go!” so i got busy working out all the moving parts to this well oiled machine we call a family (it’s not so much ‘well oiled’ as it is frighteningly dysfunctional) and we took off for the game.

here’s a picture i took while sitting in my seat (using my iphone). no, that is not roy williams sitting in front of me–that’s just a fan wearing his jersey. the real roy williams was on the sidelines. i took this picture before the game. we got there 3 HOURS EARLY because both my brothers (who are geniuses by the way–wink, wink) told us we’d be sitting in traffic for 2-3 hours. um, yeah, not much to do in a football stadium 3 hours before the game. we did eat some pretty disgusting food and tommy sneezed 278 times BEFORE kickoff. it was super fun and we stayed for the whole game. we forgot that we felt bad until we got in the car at midnight at started driving home. we stopped at walgreen’s, bought some nyquil, and took turns drinking it straight out of the bottle.

i woke up this morning and didn’t know where i was. then ethan came running in my room, crying that he peed in his pants, presley reminded me she needed 10 dollars for school, riley wanted to leave early so we could go to smoothie king, harley wanted her hair in a ponytail (no bumps this time, mama, and pull it up higher please) and it all came rushing back to me. it’s THESE people again. and the universe continues to laugh…

edit: ooh, one last thing. you must, and this is not an option or a suggestion, rent the movie and then she found me. it stars helen hunt (who also wrote, directed and starred in it), colin firth (love HIM!), bette midler, and matthew broderick. if you don’t cry at least 3 times in this movie then you are a robot.

ok, my gag reflexes are working overtime.

i don’t think i’ve ever felt this sick before.

i think i might actually vomit….(excuse me, gagging)…while typing this.

my dad….just….(gagging)…emailed me…..(taking a deep breath)…his most…(sorry, gagging again)…(oops, now convulsing)…embarrassing sex moment.

the worst part…i READ it.

i think i need to lie down now.

damn you father–and your “open lines of communication!” (you can’t see me, but i’m mocking you as i’m flipping you the bird–how’s THAT for communication?)

and for future reference (just so we’re clear)–i’m not interested in hearing about you “getting it on” with some random chick who you’re sure just had the time of her life because her toes kept curling.

oh my god…i think i’m going to be sick. must. get. image. out. of. my. head.

it burns! it burns!