Anna Land

Holy Christ!

2009-02-28T13:28:00.001-08:00

My name is Anna. And I am a blog deserter. SORRY. I didn't MEAN to let the cobwebs collect and the dust bunnies hump and multiply into the millions. But this whole mommy crap totally is like a job and shit. It REALLY gets in the way of my hard partying and bar fights. And I tried taking my baby to the bars with me, but for some reason folks just didn't seem keen on beer bonging with me when I had my spawn slung over my shoulder. Dunno... some folks are pussies.

So now I will dry again to dust off the ol' blog and get to it.

Here is the first thing I want to share with you. My curly hair is fading. GASP. Yes. I popped a baby out and the hormones CHANGED MY HAIR. I know, I know, the earth just shifted off it's axis for you all. Rest assured it's still curly, just no where NEAR the plethora of unruly curls that was once my mane. Crappy part is, is that I must wait for it to grow out for it to look normal. Right now it's calm and un kinky at the top and wild and fuzzy everywhere else. It looks like my head is greasy in a very very UNCOOL way. Because, I don't know if you know this, but there IS a way for greasy hair to be cool. Ask Joaquin Phoenix. Ok, bad example. Whatever, I mean what you know.

Anywho. Hi. I am alive. Shit, wait, now I gotta go. Little man just made pumpkin pie in his pants. Awesome.

I had a baby. I am officially a mutha.....

2008-10-16T17:33:00.000-07:00

Yep. I had a pup. He was HUGE! By c-section thank you very much. It's been a few weeks. I am out of drugs and out of sleep and now have even less time than I did before.

He is the most interesting baby in the world. He doesn't normally drink beer. But when he does, he drinks Dos Equis.

Also, don't know if you guys know this but babies cry. It sucks.

Hi. Remember me?

2008-09-25T10:01:00.000-07:00

Yes yes. Been quiet. Been knocked up and not mentally clear enough to type any shit worth reading. I am 4 days past due. Bleck.

Anyway - ENOUGH about ME!

I wanted to talk about my wonderful friend Dave Letterman. I wanted to share with you why I love this man. Last night he was pissed. Really pissed about John McCain blowing off his show.

It's a little long. Like 10 minutes. Try to at least get to the 6:30 minute mark... awesome. But no one sez it like Dave. YOu GOTTA watch. It brings me joy.

Coming outta retirement for America

2008-08-09T21:36:00.000-07:00

Sorry. I'ts been over a month. Been overwhelmed. Busy. Overwhelmed. Tired. Fat. Swollen. Busy. Hot. Just to name a few of the things I have been.

But there is something that has shaken me outta of my blogging slumber. Awakened the blogging beast that I am. It's the Olympics. I fucking LOVE them. LUV 'em. This year is even more fun as I can cheer with passion and excitement for a friend of mine. I teased her once on one of our girls night out shin digs that I was going to claim she was my best friend. That we go way back. That we are blood sisters because I was so proud of her. This, of course, is a joke. My friend Suzanne can legitimately claim that as they have been friends since they were 14 years old and they are like family. I have known this lovely lady for only a few short years. But she is the cream of the crop let me tell you.

Well this year, she is assistant coaching for the US women's Olympic water polo team. She played on that very team in 2000 as a goalie at the Australia summer Olympics and gave the team a nice shiny silver medal. It was all because of her. She carried the team. I SWEAR IT. It was ALLLLLLLLLLL Bernie. Honest.

ANYWHO - I watched the opening ceremony the other night and SAW her walking with the US team 'oer there in Chinaland. It was sooooooo great to see her pearly whites flash on the TV as she waved with every one else! I squealed like a 10 year old when I saw her on the screen!!! Here she is on the right in her U.S. opening ceremony outfit.

Side note to Ralph Lauren - when designing clothes for the U.S. athletes, can you NOT give them several layers and hats to wear in humid China in AUGUST? Thanks Ralph. I think I speak

for the team when I say - idiot.

(I think this is BEFORE they headed to the stadium - dunno - she's in China right now, kinda hard to ask her specifics.)

I am also hoping, as a note to Bernie, when you get back and have the internet access to read this, that you have LOTS of wonderful stories of Olympic TROPHIES, ahem - if you know what I mean. Trophies... not medals. Male trophies. From foreign lands with accents and hard bodies. We begged you before you left. Don't let a pregnant woman down. I need me some trophy stories. Oh yeah...

Ok - back to my point. This is a direct order. You MUST watch all women's water polo. You much cheer and scream really loud at the TV because THEY CAN HEAR YOU IN CHINA IF YOU DO AND IT WILL HELP THEM KICK ASS. Promise. You must clap. Clap some more. Cheer. Scream. Holler. Yelp. All of it. Do it for Bernie. Do it for the Olympics. Do it for America.

Email etiquette

2008-07-03T09:58:00.000-07:00

I have inherited many friends from my husbands past. Men that the King of Annaland grew up with that I have confiscated as my own friends. One of them is a very crass little fellow. Neurotic and crass. I gave him permission many years ago to be as vulgar as he wished around me, as long as he allowed the same. It has been a very symbiotic relationship ever since.

I emailed him recently about joining us an event at our house and needed his mailing address as I was too lazy to go look it up. This is our email correspondence.

Me: Whats your home address. Should I mail shit THERE or to the office?Answer me. NOW. Also, are you engaged yet? Don't lie bitch.

Him: 910 XXXXXXX CA 92XXX This is my home address send love letters to the house. Send boxes of money to my office. 325 XXXXX street XXXXXX Ca 92XXX Not engaged.

Me: Jesus. Do I have to order you a Russian bride or something? Christ. If I do, I promise, barely 18. I know that's the only way you'll bite.

Him: Sounds good, please send pictures of her butt hole.

Me: Noted.

I love you Penn Jillete

2008-07-01T14:31:00.000-07:00

I really wish I had his job. I would love to host the Bullshit series. Coolest job ever. Here is one of my faves on bottled water. Sit down. Pop some popcorn. Fill a tasty glass of tap water and enjoy.

Happy Birthday Josh

2008-06-29T12:08:00.001-07:00

You thought I forgot huh? You thought I would let it go by un-noticed. How could I you little fucker!? That is why I am the coolest of all big sisters. I would never forget, even though you have been gone from this world for 8 years now.

This is my present to you. Every time I hear it I think of you. I think of our long drive from Waynesville to Atlanta trapped in the cab of dad's truck. The three of us, with you and I HATING what a shitty driver dad is. You took control of the radio and kept bouncing stations. Then this song came on and you blasted it. We screamed the song to dad as he laughed uncontrollably at how wacky both his kids were. I never realized that we both knew the words to this song. But we did. The movie What About Mary had just been released. I guess that's why we were so into it.

Did you know they play this at all the Angels baseball games after the 7th inning stretch? I sing it out loud every time to you. But you know that.

Anyway. Here you are. Happy Birthday. I miss you so much. But I guess in a way, thanks to memories and songs like this, we are still having fun together.

Dear Collagen Lips

2008-06-25T16:20:00.000-07:00

Dear Cunt,

Let me get a couple of things off my chest. Today was NOT the day to mess with me. Yet you did. The resulting responses you received from me that made the checker giggle were deserving and much needed.

When you:

Leave your shopping cart with your purse it alone and walk up and down an aisle, it is your own fault if it is left in my way and I move it. YOUR CART, YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. Do you really think I am going to stand and stare at your cart HOPING it will move while you prance around the Trader Joes produce isle asking stupid questions about every package of berries the stock boy unloads?
Make snide comments under your breath about me touching your cart LOUD enough for me to hear - along with everyone else DON'T be shocked and taken aback when I come at you like a spider monkey. Like I said, today was not the day and if you you didn't want to make a scene, you picked the wrong pregnant bitch. Honey, I would have clocked you today if I hadn't been so outta breath!

So I am hoping you have learned a few lessons.

Your cart, your problem. If you don't want people relocating it, don't leave it alone to begin with. WITH YOUR FUCKING PURSE WIDE OPEN!!!! You are an idiot with unatural and falsely huge lips.
If you think making comments under your breath loud enough for people to hear is acceptable, then you should also believe that any resulting responses you recieve are also acceptable. It's the law of the universe - you give, you receive. You give shit, you recieve shit. You were just lucky enough today to meet me. And I LOVE giving back. I am funny that way, I like to share the love. Or the pain. Whatever yer bringing whore.

Also. I think I have already addressed this, but it really needs to be stated again. Your scabby, bulging lips are very noticable. In a bad way. Don't do that again. Small lipped or big lipped, you will never be beautiful with the type of attitude you hurlded around today. Never. Now go, be better or die. Either way, get the fuck away from the organic strawberries so I can shop in peace. You fucking, fucking cunt.

A sign of good things to come.

2008-06-12T08:33:00.001-07:00

Woke up on the right side of the bed this morning. Had a good rest. Dogs are in good spirits. Husband is in good spirits. Out this morning waving at neighbors and chit chatting. Weather is nice. Had a great breakfast shake. Sat down to read a little news online when I came across this article I thought worth reading. Nothing special, but when I read this direct quote from the article:

"The penis is the dipstick of the body's health."

My fifth grade mind couldn't help but giggle at ALLLLL the different responses I can have to that statement.

Yes my friend. Gonna be a good day.

Turns out I never knew my husband

2008-06-09T10:14:00.001-07:00

This weekend - we were working on the house as usual. Needed some music to float through the house to keep my brain occupied. I asked the King of Annaland to play dj and put in some tunes. He has binders upon binders filled with cds. He can sit for hours running through them trying to determine what he wants to hear in a blissfully categorized alphabetical order. He proceeds to do just that. Thoughtfully perusing the cd collection trying to find just the right music to listen to at just the right time.

I wait since it's always interesting his choice.

This time? JIM FUCKING CROCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He has a Jim Croce cd I never knew of. I tell you, my world is spinning. Who the hell works on the house doing manual labor listening to Time in a Bottle?

joy in my ears

2008-06-05T13:42:00.000-07:00

GAWD do I love good writing. ESPECIALLY in lyrics. It's amazing to listen to a song that says a great deal with so few words. This is why I have undying love for Coldplay. There was a time when they first came out that I was not too warm on them. That time is long gone. Some may argue they are too "pop" for their taste. Fine. It's not a debate and this is MY blog.

For me, I heart them hard. When X&Y came out, I worked in an office at that time and I fictitiously said I had a doctors appointment just so I could pick up the album as SOON as it was released and listen to it before heading to work. My husband knows this. He understands my insane crazy love that when forced to choose between him and their music, I would have to think long and hard. I mean, I love him and all, but can he make music like this? It's a tough call. He has already planned to block July 15th so we can go to the only LA concert. Little man will get an earful in my gut (as he already has).

So anyway, simply put, I am happy they have another album coming out. I guess this means I need to head back to the UK again. Their tunes are always swimming around my mp3 player as I walk the streets of London.

I would download it on i-Tunes, but I guess I am one of the few who finds i-Tunes to be a ridiculous rip off based on it's limitations on use. Lemmings to the sea you fools. Lemmings. But whateve, the album comes out soon. It will be mine, oh yes, it will be mine.

Coldplay – Viva La Vida

Confession of a tomboy.

2008-06-04T09:55:00.000-07:00

I never liked Sex and the City. Dunno. It was boring to me. But I have finally had to bite the bullet as I have been asked out on 3 separate "girls night out" events to see this movie and have drinks afterwards.

I gave up and finally said 'yes' just so I don't have to explain to one more of my girlfriends the silent secret distaste for the show that I have kept hidden for so long. Their stunned silence is really starting to irk me. I doubt most would be any less shocked if instead I said, " I like skinning live bunnies". I will be lying the whole time. I could care less about Carrie and Mr. Big. I care more for the sips from everybody's drink I will be swiping after the movie.

In other news - I felt compelled to update since many of you have emailed me asking me about my knocked-uped- ness. I am 6 months round now. I am fat. Things are fine. Little man says 'hi'. He is kicking me in the clam as I type making sure I let you know that. He and I are really gonna have a talk when he gets here. Other than that, it's really not that interesting to talk about on a larger scale. A tid bit here and there should suffice, don't you agree? Don't get why there are WHOLE DAMN BLOGS about it. But whatever. I guess those are the same girls who will also be standing in line with me as I bite my bleeding lip to purchase my Sex and the City movie ticket.

Fucking peer pressure. I am such a follower.

My laziness knows no bounds.

2008-05-30T22:15:00.000-07:00

Right now, I am watching some weird bug crawl on the wall next to me. I would rather blog about it than get up and find a way to kill it.

Sigh.

OOO la la!

2008-05-29T12:21:00.001-07:00

OMG. OMG. OMG. WTF? Luv this. Please be clear. Anytime you can take ANY song from Footloose and perform ANY routine to it, I shall give it two thumbs up. As I do now. But Jesus Fucking Christ, how bored must you be to think this gay thing up!? Thank you Perez, you are always a wealth of information for all that is campy and odd. Which I LUV.

Please enjoy. It is so odd. So strange. So lame. So campy. So making me want to get my own hula hoop and blast my Footloose soundtrack. Please also know, I am working on sewing one of these out fits for myself. Why? Why the fuck not!? Give me one good reason.

(Looks like my link died. Trying again...)

My hippiness goes to 11.

2008-05-28T08:53:00.001-07:00

In the past few years I have embraced my inner granola. My inner hippie. I am surprised how easy it really was. My friend Sprinkles has given up on me and simply rolls her eyes when I mention this kinda stuff. But aside from her, based on how easy it was I am wondering aloud why more people don't do it. I won't even go in to a global warming debate. In most cases, the changes I made I did not just for my view on the environment, but because they just seemed healthier. I guess it's like a smoker. They KNOW it's healthier NOT to smoke. Doesn't mean they will stop. Weird.

With the exception of my husbands crazy weird glass cleaner for our shower that I cannot rip away unless it is from his cold, dead, hands our house is allowed only vinegar, baking soda, lemon juice and essential oils to clean. It disinfects, contrary to popular belief AND since I only use rags now, I can use a different rag each day, hell each HOUR if I wanted and avoid any yucky gross bacteria.

Laundry? Charlies Soap - which might I add is amazing shit, cleans better than Tide ever did. And TONS cheaper. We spent $1,000 on a clothes dryer I NEVER use as everything is air dried outside. AND? My whites are better looking than ever thanks to the sun. In fact, I have been getting a shit load of free clothes for little man and my maternity self - and even though they are all clean when passed along, they stink to me. They all have some laundry detergent, fabric softener smell that takes FOREVER to wash out and smells like sweet chemicals to me now. Yuck.

I recycle fucking everything I can. Thankfully there is a recycling facility just around the corner that take everything so it's no so bad. On trash days we now have a 1/3 filled garbage can that is our entire weeks worth of garbage. That too will reduce when I get my compost heap up and running. The King is still debating on where to allow it, though thankfully he is allowing it. Yippee, I get to have a trash heap. I am such a lucky girl.

People cringe when I say this, but I will be cloth diapering little man. I don't really know why they cringe. Up until recently, ALL babies were cloth diapered. I don't really get how weirded out some people get. (Though I KNOW Sprinkles would never do it, we are too opposite. If I am THAT into it, then it's a given she would be THAT against it. It's why I love her.) My favorite response from people is "We will see how long that lasts." Really? You think me that selfish to give up since it will simply add two more loads of laundry a week to my already huge pile? How am I gonna notice two more loads? Really? Yes, I will be busy and overwhelmed with a newborn, but damn, I just really think it's selfish to do disposables because people "claim" it will be easier. You know what those disposable diapers are made of? And you want me to rub that on my newborn sons nuts? Those who claim that it will be easier have never cloth diapered. The diaper selection that is out there nowadays is pretty cool. And easy. Sam will be doing this too. Thankfully, I will have a cloth diaper buddy to help me punch out annoying people. Like, she will hold little man while I bar fight with them. Cuz, that's where we will be with little man, at a bar.

*Besides, she owes it to me. She may think it's because of her husband that she is knocked up. We all know the REAL reason is because I am the temperature charting guru and if she didn't have me, she would have NOTHING. NOTHING! You hear me sore boobed one?

But the most wonderful change me and the old man have made is eating organic and locally. Locally makes the biggest difference in taste. Thursday is shopping day for me and there is a certified farmers market right around the corner to me and I go specifically to a booth for a farmer who grows organically in the city just south of me. Yes, it forces us to only eat what is in season, but DAMN MUTHERFUCKER is the food good. Got me some fresh basil last week that was so fragrant it was like crack. I couldn't stop eating it. I almost tried to find a way to put it in my oatmeal. I wanted it on everything. The week before that were some strawberries that made me cry they were so sweet and flavorful. They REALLY tasted different than any strawberry I have ever purchased at Vons. DEAR GAWD - so good. Passed some along to my neighbor and she came over twenty minutes later beggin for more. I kicked her in the clam and slammed the door. Greedy bitch.

*The one exception to the locally grown shit is my new addiction for papaya with lime juice. OMG. It's like crack. You gotta buy the Mexican papaya since it's a little closer so it doesn't get too overripe in transit from Hawaii. Trust me, a half a papaya and some lime juice squeezed on top- it ALMOST beats out sushi. I would punch an old lady and steal it from her if I ever saw an old lady walking down the street with it. Which happens often here. I am sure I will get lucky one of these days. Lucky enough to punch an old lady.

So there you have it. My small list of reasons that I now wear tie dye, write on hemp paper man and let my freak flag fly. I would be blogging more, but I am busy meditating in robes and burning incense whilst working on a campaign to save the whales using only solar energy. Really.

Been out

2008-05-19T09:05:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I've been out. Out of it. Out of my mind. Out of toilet paper. You name it. I know it seems like it's been quiet here in Annaland. But that is because I have been busy. Busy doing other things like picking my ass. Counting stucco spots on the wall. Breathing... in and out... in and out. I have had to focus. It's been hard. Tough even.

I have felt compelled after the events of this weekend to post. It's a post about life. Please click away from this page now if you don't want to hear the impending Dougie Howser theme as I type away a pensive post on my thoughts and learnt lessons.

This past weekend Life truly showed itself. I am creating some inside me right now. It kicks me sometimes and freaks the shit out of me. The life I am making kicks my ass some times. Literally. Very odd. Then there are a couple of local friends that called me this weekend to mention that they too are cooking up kids now. We should have a baby cook off. Lots of new life forming all around. Nature is on a roll.

Then there is another friend of mine who just let her little one go. He was a month old. He had come too early. The doctors were optimistic at first. But that optimism faded this past week and this morning, I awoke to the terrible news. Life had ended.

I have seen how fleeting life can be. I respect it powerfully. It's amazing how powerful a force life can be without anything powerful or dramatic to express it. Two lives just started, quietly. Like a wisp of a breath, poof!- they are here. And at that same moment, with the same wisp of a breath, poof - life no more. It's the silence that gets me. The overly simple start and stops that are the most potent.

All it can do is give you gratitude for what you have. The air in your lungs and the sun on your face. It's simple. But so grand all at the same time.

Free $$ and stuff

2008-05-01T10:30:00.000-07:00

I buy stuff here and there from Etsy and other private websites and many have started using RME (Revolution Money Exchange) instead of PayPal. Since they are in beta mode if you sign up now they will credit $25 into your new account for you to spend how eva' you likes. (Well, as long as the seller accepts RME)

But hell - free $$ I will find a way to spend. :)

Click here:

Free shit is still SHIT but... it's free. :)

Oh - and I am having a boy in case you didn't already scan down and read other lame posts. If you like you can use the free $$$ to buy me something boy-like. Like sushi and vodka. Thanks.

Notes on my life

2008-04-14T11:10:00.000-07:00

First off, let me announce. This upcoming child of min. It's gonna be a boy. Yippee. I will only have to worry about 1 penis, not 1,000.

In other news, the old man is in Vegas without me. He got so drunk last night his BOSS had to have security wheel him out in a wheel chair.

That man rocks my world.

Helping the man get street cred

2008-03-31T13:54:00.000-07:00

Breeezed through Perez this morning after spending ALLLLLL night on the phone with United Airlines because supposedly they are in some way meant to help me because we just lost $1000 bucks when Aloha Airlines decided to close its doors today. Yes, you read that shit on news and think bummer for THOSE folks. Welp. Now I am THOOOOOOOSE folks. Don't worry, going to Hawaii in a week and a half either way. No boo hooing over here.

Anywho -getting that all straightened out when I read on Perez that today marks the 13th anniversary of Selena's terrible untimely death. The King and I love us some Selena. Don't ask me why. My white boy husband luvs him some latino pop. Mana, Selena, and some others that I am not as into as him. Whatever.

Today I send him this link to my fave Selena song. It's an oldie but a goodie, and yes, like Perez I know all the words. Please, just humor me. This was an epic song for her. Watch, at the worst, it will make you crave a taco.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MoJkv6Rv6Xo

I tell him to play it for the guys in his office mail room and remind them of this sad anniversary.

They almost carried him out on their shoulders shouting his name. He is their new white man hero. He is totally getting his mail delivered FIRST from now on. Maybe even an extra home made tortilla here and there. He so owes me big.

Today just got soooo much better...

2008-03-25T08:41:00.000-07:00

... because I just discovered rickrolling.

How can you not love this oldie but goodie? One redhead. One deep voice. Several geeky outfits. One perfect video.

This song is a running joke in Annaland. We spend many of our evenings playing music and chatting. When we can't agree on what to listen to, we always put this song on to once again establish neutrality and laugh at ourselves. But we blast it. Which forces me to dance like a maniac with flailing arms and fuzzy hair. It is a sight to behold.

Love knows no borders.

2008-03-19T16:33:00.000-07:00

This is heartwarming. I think being with child has softened my heart. I hope against hope I have a daughter now. If this baby comes out with a vag, I am totally gonna enlist because THIS my friends, is what it is all about.

Army Holds Annual 'Bring Your Daughter To War' Day

Get in my belly!

2008-03-17T17:28:00.000-07:00

When I actually started telling people I was pregnant everyone had something to say. Beyond the initial shock and fear for my unborn child that most folks who know me have, most of them tried to warn me about the heart burn.

This hurt my feelings. I feel like it meant they never really knew me. Because MY GAWD. I get heart burn ALLLLLL THE FUCKING TIME!!!!!!!!!!! Years prior to being knocked up by this strange man known as my husband, I have suffered heart burn like no one I know. THINKING about heart burn give me heart burn. Water does too. BADLY. So when folks tried to warn me about getting it now that I have a parasite in my gullet (and it is not tape worm by the way- I made the OBGYN double check just to make sure) I was, like I said hurt.

So now here I sit. Full of acid because my body hated the fact that I wanted Grape Nuts. Fuck you body. I am one of the few who LIKE Grape Nuts, I have fought you over this for YEARS, can't you give a sister a break for once now that I am performing the miracle of life? What? No? Then fuck off body. I guess we are going back to counseling.

Pregnancy status check: still want a vodka tonic. I think when I register for my baby shower I will put Grey Goose on it. Yes, yes, this is a very good idea.

I am too devoted. I will even pay to see this....

2008-03-12T15:03:00.001-07:00

At the top of my list for movie faves is Lost Boys. Hands down. Hands down my pants. Whatever. I love that movie so much it makes me violent. I hit because I love. Really.

Anyway, I have heard for sometime now that they REALLY were making a sequel to this stellarest of stellar movies and I would not hear any of it. How can you make a sequel after all this time that would remotely do the first movie justice? You can't. With no Keifer? No Jason Patrick? No attack of Eddie Munster??! No Thorn? No Grandpa? Dear God and baby Jesus.

But I am too devoted. I am almost brainwashed that I will go see it. Not because I WANT to, but because I HAVE to. I have to because I am THAT loyal. I know it will suck. I know I will be disappointed, but when I see the trailer and they have used all the old songs and hell, practically the same story line to sell the movie, I am almost forced to against my will. This sequel will not be good, but I am sucked in like I am in a tractor beam.

Damn you Warner Brothers. You are stealing candy from a baby.

BASTARDS.

And another thing. HOW!? I ask. HOW - do you make a sequel without Tim Cappello gyrating and playing the sax? I don't think it can be done. This movie is doomed.

After today, I miss this.

2008-03-10T21:00:00.001-07:00

London Nov 2007 164
Originally uploaded by Anna Land

My friend Jon will kill me for saying this as he really can't stand London nor the Tube, but I miss the mass transit in the UK. I think it's even better than NYC. Those who have this luxury may hate it, the delays, the over crowding, the smelly passengers. But those who complain have never had to drive in bumper to bumper traffic INTO the sun for 2 hours straight. The problem with driving is that you really can't ever 'relax'. There is no taking a magazine out to read or tuning into your IPod and closing your eyes and sitting as someone else does the driving.

You have no idea what it is like to stop-go, stop-stop-stop-go a little bit- then stop-stop-stop. All the while you are paying $4 bucks a gallon to burn gas while sitting still and going now where.

Yes, today I had to drive in the commute - and now I must find a few innocent people to "knock off" to ease my frustration. Stupid old lady in front of me. I could have gotten out and PUSHED her car faster than she was going.

She is an old lady whore. I know it.

Oh, and if you own an SUV, please know I hate you. Take it personally, because it is PERSONAL. They are too big and too damn annoying and what you fail to realize is having a bigger car does not make you a better driver. No. It AMPLIFIES your shittiness. And DON'T give me you need the cargo space bullshit. You DON'T, you WANT it because you seem to think it is necessary. That is not the same thing. You could get by with a smaller car. No one would die, you are just spoiled. What you don't realize is that you are an idiot for driving on the road with that huge auto monster that clogs the traffic with their view blocking fat asses. It's like owning a SUV has burned idiocy into your DNA - you are doomed. You may as well just die now. There is no point to going on if you are that lame.

Love,

Anna.

My good man

2008-03-06T17:15:00.001-08:00

I have never had more pride and respect for my husband than I do now.

Let me tell you why. King of Annaland was not an animal lover when we were dating. Wasn't one when we got married either. Certainly wasn't one when I called him crying because I was on my way to the animal shelter to rescue a dog that was to be put down the next day. He wasn't one when I brought that dog home to live with us either.

He wasn't one for a long, long, long, long while. But he is now. Though he won't admit it. He and my dog Lulu, who once lived on death row are now inseparable. He makes sure to give her cuddles at night. She follows him around the house. He pets her the entire time he sits in his chair and watches tv. He likes playing tricks on her because he knows her nature now and understand her predictability. He loves her. He loves her personality. She has become, not an animal, but a fuzzy part of the family to him.

As a result of this new found love for a four legged creature, he has been able to step back and see, that if this dog that he loves so much has a personality that he cares for, it is possible that other animals may too. He can now translate his understanding of Lulu as a creature with feelings to other animals. As a result, after watching on the news last month about the mistreatment of cows heading to slaughter in a Chino, CA meat plant, he can translate the suffering of these animals into something he understands. What if someone did that to his beloved animal? How would he deal? It haunted him. He, for the time, realized how "not right" it was that these animals died. He was used to hamburger, that didn't look like an animal. It looked different. The cameras in that meat facility caught humans doing terrible things to animals and he realized he was eating the resulting product of it. He wondered aloud to me, "How many times do you think when I ate a cheeseburger, the cow that filled it was abused?" He realized that if more people had to actually kill the animal the were consuming on a regular basis, there would be one hell of a lot less meat eaters in the world.

He gave up meat that very night. Hasn't had it since. I know him well enough to know, I doubt he ever will again. I think that is awesome. I haven't had beef in a long, time and prefer fish to any other animal anyway. Fish to me, usually don't suffer at the hands of man in quite the same way. I am not here to get up on a soap box or propose that you should do as the King has done (thought I hope you will think about it) . I am just saying, I watched my husband evolve. And I am proud of him.

Pant ratings

2008-03-05T09:24:00.000-08:00

The King works with a funny chap I shall call Jan-Michael Vincent. Trust me, he should be called Jan-Michael Vincent. From Airwolf. Yes. Anywho, Jan Michael is one funny mo' fo' in a very dry humor way. Have you ever seen Say Anything? Jon Cusack plays a mean Jan-Michael Vincent in that movie. They are the same person. Anywho AGAIN.

He sends my husband an email with a link to view THESE pants:

They discuss the pants for a bit and Jan Michael INSISTS that the King should buy a pair for his works outs. Something like when you buy new sneakers, you can run faster. And if the King bought these wonderful pants, his gym work outs would be tougher, meaner and more effective.

That and Jan Michael gave them an aggressive rating of 8 on a scale of 10. I think I have to disagree. If these pants show up ANYWHERE on the 10 point aggressive rating scale it is MOST definitely an 11. They are fierceness incarnate.

Yes, they go to 11.

We are easily entertained here in Annaland

2008-03-04T09:49:00.000-08:00

Last night as I sat crippled on the couch with back pain and growing boobies, the King and I watched the 20/20 special on the British Royal Family. He was willing to humour me in my gimpy condition as he knows I am a whacked out anglophile, so he wanted to make me happy.

The only problem was that it was a two hour show, which, for us, meant three hours thanks to our lame sense of humor. We had to keep rewinding the show (thank you dvr) and catching up because of Jon Stewart. Why Jon Stewart? Simple. Last year when the Queen made her state visit to the White House, Mr. Stewart did a little bit about her while she was here with Georgie. And it made me cry I laughed sooo hard. He did this Mrs. Doubtfire impression of her that we kept doing every time she came on the screen. It was too much fun and we kept missing what they were saying on the show last night and had to back up - only to want to do the impression again. A viciously funny circle.

And because I just posted how devilishly fun it was to mock Her Royal Highness, I am sure she is calling Gordon Brown right now to dispatch Scotland yard to my house and "silence" me. And when they come to the door, I think I shall answer.... "HELLOOOOOO!"

Good to know

2008-02-26T09:28:00.000-08:00

With the impending doom/arrival

of my little one a mere 6.5 months away, it is quite nice that I have these flash cards to help me through those precious first weeks.

People have asked if I have had any cravings. Duh. I crave Dirty Martinis.

AWESOME FUCKING DAY

2008-02-21T11:07:00.000-08:00

My dear dear husband has been sick. REALLY sick. I have been nursing his 'man cold' since Saturday and it has been a great deal of work.

But yesterday he was feeling the closest to better he had in a while so he asked if we could watch one of our favorite movies. We have several, but the ones that top the list for "newer" movies include, Snatch, Lock, Stock & Two Smoking Barrels (Sting is in that, how could you NOT love it?), The Big Lebowski, V for Vendetta, Talladega Nights- The Legend of Ricky Bobby (come on, you know you luv it) and one of the best, the one we rarely put in the dvd player for some unknown terrible reason that should make us communists: Donnie Darko.

We sat around, watched Donnie Darko and enjoyed the glory that it is. I love the music they used. The best beginning to a movie ever. Music choices were fantastic.

GAWD that movie rawks. I need to make a full list of my beloved movies. One that hits all decades. One of the others that would make my cut? Cannon Ball Run. I mean- COME ON- they ran the credits with bloopers. 'These rosary bleeds?" how can you NOT laugh? Dean Martin was the best!

Also. I am pregnant. REALLY. Hell has frozen over.

Warm weather has bad timing

2008-02-06T15:26:00.001-08:00

Only because I am in a total Sigur Ros mood. And well, when the sun is out and shiny and all purdy and stuff, it's hard to be pensive and somber in the cold candlelight. REALLY hard.

I am a voter.

2008-02-05T10:31:00.000-08:00

I am so cool. I voted today. It's funny, EVERY time I go to the polling place, I get a little emotional and choked up. It's like I am physically doing that magical thing that everyone celebrates in this country. That thing that makes every American an American. Yes, you know and agree with me I am sure. It's all about getting free stuff. In this case, my "I voted" sticker.

Oh yeah, I made my voice heard and stuff too... bla bla bla.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH.

2008-01-30T10:44:00.000-08:00

There used to be a sushi place near my house called, Ah -Wasabi.

One day, I asked a friend of mine in the car how you pronounce it. Was it 'aaahh, wasabi' or was it 'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH ! WASABI !!!!!!!!! '

She never could say.

Must VENT because you can lead a horse to water but...

2008-01-28T16:26:00.000-08:00

I have this wonderful friend. She is like a sister to me. I yell at her. I tell her she is beautiful. I roll my eyes at almost every fucking thing she does. I watch her make mistake after mistake after mistake with her life and I limit my comments to "hmm, interesting."

She is like watching the train wreck that is Courtney Love. Courtney is in her 40's and still is fucked up with capital M, for MY GOD YOU ARE FUCKED UP. This is much like my friend. She wants to live a rock star life on a food stamp budget. She wants to drink wine every night and smoke like a chimney until 3 am but then complain about why reasonably responsible men in oxford shirts and with 401ks aren't interested in her. Because THOSE men are looking for wife material. Women who will be moving toward the same goal - retirement and home ownership, possibly a family. My friend, she can't even hold a phone reception job. Why? Because she is always late. Why? Because she drinks until 3 am and can't wake up in time to make it to her job where all she has to do all day is answer the phone and transfer the call. She is 35.

She calls me depressed every time something goes wrong. She breaks up with guy who was an asshole immediately after she met him. She gets a DUI. She gets fired. She files bankruptcy.

It is hard to have a friend like this. Not because I judge, but because you are a friend to someone whose problem is a broken record. There are only so many times you can try and gently, firmly, or all out screamingly, inform someone of what they might be, just MIGHT be doing wrong.

I love her, but my GOD.

I have known her for like 15 years. After about 7 years ago, I gave up trying to change her. A mutual friend of ours used to be soooooo frustrated with her. I always understood why. But about 7 years ago, I let go. I stopped trying to change her. Because it was clear to me then and it is clear to me now - she doesn't want to change.

She is a lost soul. A victim. I love her soooo much, but I REALLLLY hate victims.

Really.

This is a test...

2008-01-23T09:22:00.001-08:00

Do you know what movie this is from?

"It's just a dog. I'll get you one in another deal."

I say this all the time. I think I've got it down because no one understands me.

Supplies!!!!!!!!!!!!

2008-01-14T09:48:00.000-08:00

Inside joke. Sorta. Point being that I threw a surprise party for the King of Annaland this weekend. Went off without a hitch. He had no idea. But I was a little stupid. I planned to do it at my house, which meant he had to be out of the house the entire day so I could do everything. That was dumb, because I couldn't prep at all before hand. EVERYTHING had to be done the day of. Kinda hard when you are just one person. The King and I work quite well as a team, so when he is completely outta the loop and I have to handle a whole load by myself, I was a tad bit swamped. Poor me. Poor sad me.

The other hard part is that I can't STAND to have a house full of people. I really am a horrible hostess and really hate trying to make small talk in my own home. Annoys me. So I was over stressed during the party, even though I knew everyone. AND I was hung over, ROYALLY. I am a matyr. That is what I am trying to tell you. I did all this for my husband even though it was TERRIBLE and HORRIBLE and PAINFUL all out of true love.

I am amazing. My devotion really is the stuff that TV movies are made of. He is so lucky.

Grrrr.

2008-01-11T16:16:00.001-08:00

I have been MIA recently because my computer went on permanent vacation due to a virus. It was fab. Just fab. We had to transfer our files to another hard drive and wipe this puppy clean. Only partially back and running here in Annaland.

So what is new? Sadly, nothing really earth shattering to report. Been working out sumthin' fierce. Really kicked it into over drive in the iron pumping department. Have had to FORCE myself to do the cardio.

I LUUUUUUV lifting weights, but hAAaaaAAAAAaaaaaaaTe cardio. Cardio is a bitch. An ugly bossy bitch with bad breathe and a hairy mole on her chin who kicks doggies. She is one fugly bitch and I hate her.

But I am turning over a new leaf. I have extended an olive branch to cardio. I called her up and said, "Hey cardio, I know we have had our differences and I would like to try and move past them. How about we meet for a beer and we talk it over?"

We did meet over a beer and made all nice with each other. So I thought I would give her another go. You what cardio did? She still kicked my ass.

Two faced whore!

So I am sore today. AND I am out 8 bucks for the beer I bought her. Fucking beeoch.

My first day in 2008

2008-01-01T21:04:00.000-08:00

I did nothing. I am TOTALLY on a roll.

Wahoo Xmas

2007-12-27T15:29:00.001-08:00

December 2007 Harrahs San Diego
Originally uploaded by Anna Land

THIS is why you live in Southern California - the beach on Christmas.

There are those who ask What Would Jesus Do? Well he woulda gone to the fucking beach like me if he could. Sheesh.

Happy Birthday Jesus

2007-12-24T12:30:00.001-08:00

Happy Christmas Folks. This is for Allison, whose ultra religious in-laws firmly pointed out last year that they had a new tradition for Christmas. A birthday cake. For Jesus. Complete with them singing Happy Birthday to You.

Yes. Her Christmas is awesome.

If I had a dick...

2007-12-17T10:07:00.000-08:00

I would tell the strange holiday solicitors who keep knocking on my door to suck it. It would be awkward since many of them are sweet old ladies for neighboring churches. But even sweet old bible thumping Grannies need a harsh talkin' to once in a while. 'Specially when dem bitches keep interrupting my holiday drinking. Vodka is MY church. Sheesh.

So effing true.

2007-12-07T08:47:00.000-08:00

Saw this on Dooce. Can't help but post it here as well. I can relate SOOOO well.

Once, I was on a business trip to Chicago and my wonder-husband was at home where he caught a cold. I returned to my hotel room after a long day only to check my room voicemails. Hubby had left a stammering, jumbled melodramatic message that included him trailing off by then end leaving me to wonder if he he had passed out from the sheer exertion of dialing me. I didn't know whether to hang up and dial 911 or jump on a plane to return home instantly.

In a panic, fearing that I would have to live a life without him, I called him back. Scared out of my mind.

He answered cheerily, "Hello?"

Me "Honey, OMG, are you ok? Whats going on?"

Him "Ah, I have a sore throat and I couldn't find the cough syrup. I HAD to go out and get some more. I even had to take a nap!"

Me "Are you ok now? Do you need me to come home?"

Him "Huh? Aren't you in Chicago? I think I slept it off."

Me 'Click'

Him "Hello? Anna?"

Yeah - big fat BABY!

OH Holy Crap...

2007-11-28T11:31:00.000-08:00

The holidays are here. I have something every fucking weekend in December thanks to little baby Jesus.

I hate it when everyone you know HAS to throw a holiday party. Don't they all realize that they ALLLLLLL want to have a holiday party? I got 4 invitations before NOVEMBER had even really been in full swing. The best part? I am being FORCED to throw one myself. Yes. Forced. Because apparently, the torture of going to other peoples parties wasn't enough this year. Because my house is done. Because in some way - people like me enough to want to be at MY house no matter how hard I try to get people to hate me. Consider me like one of those lovable old hermit people, that people try to get to the heart of but the hermit person doesn't want to be loved even though they are lovable. And at Christmas they are the reason for some after school special Xmas miracle. Yeah, that's me.

There will be a shit load of people here at my house because everyone wants to see the remodel and they know that I will not invite them any other time. So I was TOLD I was to throw a party. The date was picked and it was relayed to me. As in "This is the day that we will be showing up at your house for said party. Make sure you bathe the night before."

Fuckin' A. With friends like that who needs enemies? No invites, just INVASIONS. So now I have to clean my house. Make a dinner menu, smile, make small talk, pretend I am not poisoning everyone and wait for the iocane powder to kick in. Yes, I got it from the Sicilian before he was tricked by the Dread Pirate Roberts. (OK- let's see who gets THAT reference......I doubt my UK friends will.)

Side note: When in London, we went with some friends to a "trivia competition" in a bar where everyone was put into teams. A sound bite from this movie (see above reference) was used as a questions and only the Americans knew it. Like, instantly. Without more than a second of the sound bite. Then we all completed the sound bite, because we knew EVERY word and then some. In the competition there were about 40 people total, including about 10 Americans. People - do you realize there are folks in the world who have lived their lives without knowing or cherishing this movie?!!! Seems like a hollow existence. Really.

I digress.

Happy Fuckin' Xmas.

You may kiss the bride.

2007-11-18T15:16:00.000-08:00

By the power vested in me by the internet, I married two people this weekend. They are now husband and wife because of the magical shizz that is the internet ordination.

The internet fucking rocks.

Also, I had an AWESOME hair day on the wedding day. I am actually gonna have some decent pictures from this wedding. Being a woman of the Internet-God gets you good hair days. I should have become a reverend YEARS ago. Like in 3rd grade. Fuckin' A.

my day today.

2007-11-15T10:13:00.001-08:00

Had a nice, pleasant, concerned, stressed out, freaked out, totally panicked text from my cousin this morning at 6 AM asking "What happened?!!!! R U guys oks?!"

Uh, yeah. Just sitting here drinking my coffee. So I quickly, before responding to her, jump online to see what the hell she is talking about. Did we sleep through an earthquake? Are the fires back? Wait! Mud slides, there must be mudslides! No, TSUNAMI! Shit! We're all gonna die! Put the floaties on the dogs!

I rapidly check the NY Times and CNN and Yahoo and any other of my go-to sites. Nuthin.

So I call her back and ask her what happened that called for her to text me in a panic. Her concern? She heard we got robbed. Yes, we did- and it was terrible. A MONTH AGO.

Seems my mom and my uncle spoke yesterday and in my mother's fabulously kookie way she proceeded to describe a minor break in that occured over 30 days ago as a major home invasion, complete with hostages, a crime chase and a ransom.

Old people. They have such imaginations.

Then, if that wasn't eventful enough... the King of Annaland had some issues at work, very minor. But I had to do some leg work for him. So I spent my morning on the phone with the US Department of Justice and the FBI. They say "hi" to you all. Yeah, they are nice.

So how was YOUR morning?

our carbon footprint

2007-11-15T07:41:00.000-08:00

I am, like, TOTALLY excited about this new website they unveiled yesterday. I am a bit too granola for my friends and happily my husband has allowed me to be as radical as I want regarding it since he has some sense of a conscience, so watching our carbon footprint has been a big deal in our household. Even down to riding our bikes for groceries. So having this website allows us to look at not only those companies that are the worst in their carbon emissions, but those that are quite green.

Yippee for technology.

There are some who will want to type here that global warming does not exist. Fine. Not here to debate. But doesn't it just make sense to reuse and not waste as much as possible? Sheesh.

Anyway - I am off to make sure everything in my house is unplugged and that the whales are saved, that trade is made fair and that Brad and Angelina adopt another baby from a 3rd world. I got a lot of world saving to do today - so I must run.

Did you know that folks in the UK eat monkey balls?

2007-11-11T10:38:00.001-08:00

They do. At least, I think they do. They MADE me do it too. I was frightened at first. Like many, at all things culinarily British. But then, I decided to act like the natives and indulge in the little tid bit of taste. Good, they were. Tasty, they are. Like Yoda sounding I am.

I can assume they were actually lychee nuts, or a version there of.. but Badgerdaddy had the true balls to grab them off the conveyor belt of food that we feasted on and plop them in front of us. They were tasty. Actually, this image makes it look like we had some sort of round egg, but I can assure you they were actually the balls of monkeys.

I also ate other things while in London. Here is my culinary diary:

This was the best-ever-tasted-like-heaven-in-my-mouth-probably-going-clog-my-arteries chicken and mushroom pie. It was accompanied by a Strong Bow, because I don't like beer, but I will suck down a cider with a nipple if I could.

Then there was the Indian food.

So yummy. Made my burps foul as foul can be. My husband actually yelled at me because he could no longer take the stench of regurgitated curry. Wonder why - it was soooo tasty the first time. Hmmm.

Then there was the site seeing, which I was forced to do by myself because the old ball and chain had to work the whole time. Bummer for him. Was OK since I had been to London before. Made me look like I new what I was doing. Which is rare.

Met with Badgerdaddy, as I have already eluded to :

Went to go and introduce myself to Gordon Brown.

Saw the changing of the guard - by accident, since this is the most overrated of sites... snapped a pic and then promptly feel asleep due to the severe uneventfulness of it.

Re-created a previous picture of the King and I in front of Buckingham Palace that we had taken on our initial trip several years ago. Our computer ate it and we were left with only memories. Take THAT MR. Stupid Evil Computer. We replaced it you bastard. AND I have a back up. Try and take my dreams again. I dare you!

Picnicked in Hyde Park because I was poor and the value of the dollar is SHITE.

Got attacked by this pelican. He was an asshole. Very grumpy.

Finally went to St. Pauls Cathedral. Looks the same as Westminster Abbey inside to me. Old, with candles and some dead people. I saw them. I see dead people.

Took a picture with the King in from of Parliment to add to my "Anna and Her Husband in Front of Famous Landmarks" Collection.

Got to sit in on the House of Commons during a session and wonder inside. Was pretty spiffy. Made up for the fact that to be nice, I didn't go to the Graham Norton taping I had tickets for since the King couldn't join me. I am such a giver.

I saw this dude get all painted up in gold during a photoshoot at Heathrow. If this is how they build them in England than long live the Queen.

Super Excited...

2007-11-02T13:11:00.000-07:00

I am hopeful about the quality of this weeks SNL since Brian Williams will be the host. I LOVE it when newsmen are able to check their egos and make fun of themselves. Should be quite a treat. SNL has prett much sucked for several years with a few exceptions. I hope this is one of them.

Maybe even better than the time Stone Philips was on the Colbert Report and he and Stephen Colbert had an anchorman showdown. Was funny as hell.

We are Halloweeners

2007-11-01T16:04:00.001-07:00

The King and I decided to have a little fun this Halloween and actually carve pumpkins. His was really cute as he carved his pumpkin into one of the characters from the Nightmare Before Christmas. All the kids loved it. And the parents did too. We even piped in some on the music from the movie since it added a nice little touch for the kids as they walked up to the door. (Most of the kids in our neighborhood are pretty young - we thought trying to scare the shit out them may be a little much. Maybe next year.)

Here are a couple of pics of our pumpkins:

Yes, mine is puking his guts out. I am quite proud.

Mind the gap....

2007-10-29T21:09:00.000-07:00

Randomly decided to go to the UK this Sat. And possibly, I get to meet my witty little internet friend Badgerdaddy for sushi next week. In London. Yippee.

It's the 5th of November that day, which means I should watch V for Vendetta again as well. Just in case we need to overthrow their government or something touristy like that.

Maybe I should clarify...

2007-10-23T08:28:00.000-07:00

My home is in absolutely NO danger of burning. At all. So while I thank you for you well wishes, I don't want you holding all night vigils for me or anything. Unless you want to and it's an all night vigil for me and the King to win TWO HUNDRED BILLION DOLLARS.

Then vigil away.

My only problem with this whole crappy event is that with all the fires happening in So Cal, the smoke that is floating over the entire region is nasty. Skanky nasty. Licking the bottom of an ash tray nasty. Sucking on tail pipe nasty.

Then there are the Santa Ana winds. Not to go all Bill Nye the Science Guy on you, buuuut.... generally the wind comes from the west heading east. Since we here in Cali-four-NI- A rest on the west coast, we get the "off shore" flow... which means a nice cool ocean breeze.

When the fucking whore that is the Santa Ana winds come, the wind changes direction and blows from the east to the west. East of us is DESERT. HOT, DUSTY, BITCHY desert. So the wind that comes is HOT - heat creates greater force in the wind, so the gusts are violent and hot. Like opening a convection oven. And DRY as a bone. The humidity level will drop to like 8%. EIGHT PERCENT!? There is more moisture in charcoal. I know it. Combine that violent wind with no rain in like FOREVER and movie stars homes burn.

It's a travesty. Those poor, poor movie stars. Living in parched, un-kept hills with little emergency access over looking the Pacific Ocean. I am sure they are SHOCKED when their homes burn because it's a physical impossibility that bad things can happen to them. Much like never having to go to jail. I am sure most of the movie stars who lose their homes to the fires will find a way to blame this on their managers and their publicists and all have to go on Larry King to discuss it. It will be a worse disaster than what going on in Darfur. Fur' sure. (Also, if you DON'T know whats going on in Darfur, find out and do something about it. Seriously.)

For me? My home is safe and sound. I just wish I could find a way to not breath in the ash, smoke and chemicals that are floating through this tasty air of ours right now. That and I wish my boobs were bigger.

Hell on Earth

2007-10-22T12:28:00.000-07:00

Jesus. Santa Ana winds from hell. The wind and the smoke is so bad at my house I am thinking about packing the dogs up and heading out. The only trouble is, I have no where to go - ALL of So Cal is burning.

It's snowing ash at my house, that is the ash that can make it to the ground in the hot wind tunnel that is the 60 mile and hour winds. LOVE the gusts up to 80. Isn't that hurricane force wind at that point? Yeah, it is.

I. Can't. Breathe.

This is old I know...

2007-10-19T14:53:00.000-07:00

... but it's always good to watch again. It's one of my faves and as some my friends know (Fire Pie and Suzanne) I have been on a personal goal to hug the people in my life more for a few years. Yes, yes, in person I can be quite nice. AT TIMES. Strangely, I only hug certain people in my life. But next, I am coming after YOU Sprinkles. You hear me!? You get ready.

It has been a rule with me and the King of Annaland since we married 7 years ago - we hug goodbye EVERYDAY - NO MATTER WHAT. No kiss, not even the words "good bye" sometimes. But ALWAYS - without fail, we embrace for a moment each day before parting to live our lives and be our own person. 7 years, 1 hug at the least each day equals 2555 hugs. Awesome.

Please take a moment to watch again since I am sure for most of you, this is a repeat. But a worthwhile repeat I believe. See if it doesn't make you wanna do the same.

SEE?! I can be nice. Just don't tell too many people. I got this rep to protect.

The Birthday of Chicken

2007-10-19T07:57:00.001-07:00

Yesterday was my birthday. I could give a shit. I am old. I am warshed up. Birthday cakes and gifts give me gas. BUT yesterday was ALSO a particular 11 year olds birthday as well. This is very important because anyone born in ROCKTOBER is of advanced intelligence and destined to be part of the advanced race of humans that meets every other Thursday (except when it falls on a Federal Holiday) in a secret location to discuss how perfect we are and laugh at the lameness of all others and point out their pubic fat. I am a card carrying member of this group, though I haven't been to a Thursday meeting in a while since Grey's Anatomy came back on. But that is a TOTALLY acceptable excuse.

ANYWAY - it was Chicken's birthday yesterday also and I was in a lame conference ALL DAY getting text messages from folks on my phone and playing Tetris and was unable to do the dance of joy to celebrate. SOOOOOOOOO Happy Birthday Chicken.

Also - not only is this ROCKTOBER, but it is ALSO SCOTTOBER for another individual ALSO birthed in this, the best month ever made in the history of months that have been made. But as he pointed out to me yesterday, he farts dust that is older than me, so I am sure he will understand when I don't dedicate and entire post to him. I certainly, don't want to let the lesser non ROCKTOBER people thinking that we, of superior birth, fart dust. No, we fart magical glitter of hope and peace. Poof.

Burn victim

2007-10-12T09:22:00.000-07:00

Last night I learned what true pain is. I scalded myself on steam while cooking. SCALDED. My gawd. It was awful. After some panicked soaking in cold water, I went to the computer to look up the level of severity to determine if I should head to the urgent care. Whilst on the computer, I stupidly thought that I didn't need to soak it anymore. After about 5 minutes on the computer, the hot, burning, stinging pain that pulsed through my fingers made it quite evident that I should keep something cold on it - FOREVER.

Several times through the night last night I tried NOT resting it on the soggy bag of ice that was in bed with me, only to have to get up and pace in pain due to the level of sting that would rush through my hand before the cold could ease it again. It was bAAAAd.

Need less to say, I typed this shit one handed. From what I could determine, it is only a 1st degree burn. No blistering, nothing except a little pink. But dear LORD - the PAIN. My husband was freaked because each time the searing pain would pop up after stupidly thinking the pain would pass, I would pace the house with tears streaming down my cheeks. I didn't want to go to the urgent care because my husband had to be at work at 6 am and it was like 11 pm when I burnt myself. He would have gotten no sleep. I begged him to stay home and I would go alone and he refused, so I refused to go. We are both martyrs. JIHAD!!!

*** Burn Victim Update

I was wrong. Based on the recent swelling and the recent BLISTERS and the consistent PAIN, I have 2nd degree burns over about 1/3 of my hand. Greeeeeat. This will totally impare my ability to flip the bird.

Ode to power tools

2007-10-09T15:55:00.000-07:00

Over the past few years, I have become a bit of a neat freak. In a scary meticulous kinda way. I love to scrub, vaccuum, organize and compartmentalize and can (and have) spent hours upon hours in the blissful place that is the Container Store. If you have never been, my God, please do so soon before I judge you for being a loser of the highest caliber. It is a store that helps you CONTAIN things. You can even store boxes within boxes. Color code, alphabetize and sort by size. Jesus you could do all three simultaneously if you wished. I get a nerd boner just thinking about it.

Anyway, I am going over board since we have moved back into our home after tearing it to shreds and making me crazy or remodeling, whatever you wanna call it. It feels soooo good to have NOTHING on my bathroom counter now. Not a dirty dish nor a microwave. Because where else do you put your dirty dishes when you have no kitchen for 6 months but right next to your toilet, so when you poo, which I do often, you can look at last nights spaghetti and think hmm... maybe I should just cut out the middleman and drop my dinner here in the toilet instead of doing all this digesting and stuff... Hey - I would at least save on toilet paper that way. (Ok that run on sentence was so bad, that I have no idea how to punctuate it.)

So back to cleaning. I am releasing crap into the great wide open that is the Salvation Army and learning how to keep my new cream colored floors clean. Yes, you read that right - they are cream. Like white cream. Any SHINY. So shiny in fact, that my yellow dogs looks like a deer stuck on the ice when trying to run around the corner of my kitchen. It's awesome. My husband and I just sit and watch her scramble as she tries to stick up on all fours. GREAT Friday night entertainment. It's not that it is slick, its more that my dog is insane and was knocked over once turning the corner by my other dog and now thinks that the corner is out to get her and makes herself fall every time she tries to walk around it because she is , ya know, insane. She is fine everywhere else, but once she gets near that corner you can almost see her eyes bug out and her paws spread wide as she tries to hold on for dear life turning dead mans curve in the kitchen.

Anyway, back to my dogs and my cream colored floor. So now that I have this cream concrete floor in my house, my black dogs hair shows up IMMEDIATELY if it falls off of her body. Me being the scary neat nick I am, I have been working overtime trying to figure out how to limit this. I used to brush my dogs daily. For like 30 minutes each. That's 1 hour of dog brushing A DAY if the math didn't creep up on you. It sucked. I felt like a zoo keeper. I knew I had to figure out what to do to fix this or else it was basically gonna be me and my husband counting down the days until the dog died. We would be sad when she died, but we would still hold the dead dog countdown.

That is until I realized we have an air compressor. Yes. You read that right, an AIR COMPRESSOR. It's heavy duty and we use it to fill our car tires, blow out the garage, nail shit in and scare little kids. And now I use it to blow out my dogs. 5 minutes tops and every hair that is loose on my dogs and any dust they have collected is blown out to oblivion.

It's AWESOME. I should be like Martha Stewart. Only without the felony and the shitty attitude. Ok ok. WITH the shitty attitude.

:(

2007-10-06T12:55:00.000-07:00

I walked into my home yesterday afternoon after visiting a friend and was immediately struck by the strong sense that things were not right. Even though nothing was upturned in my living room. I left my house @ 1pm. I got home @ 4:30pm. During the time when I was gone - someone broke into our house and robbed us. Of what? A jar of changed and a fucked up laptop that had a virus on it and is a password protected piece of shit. They also stole an empty jewelry box that had a ring that was claimed from my brothers body when he was killed.

That is the only thing that kills me. The fact that they took a small cheesy ring of no value that my brother had on him when he died. I cared nothing for the fact that teenagers ran through my house and looked at my shit. I cried like a baby because they took my dead brothers ring. To me these sons of bitches are grave robbers. Stuff is stuff. But somethings have something beyond monetary value. Some things are sacred. I want that ring back. I also want the robbers to come back - so I can fuck their asses up beyond measure.

The irony is that I usually leave my dogs in the house. That day, they were locked outside. I can assure you, if my dogs had been in the house, no one would have fucking tried to come in. There is no way. I guess the dogs have a free ticket to be inside ALL THE FUCKING TIME NOW.

I told the crime scene investigator that I thought the thieves were fucktards. Her response? 'Hey! That's MY word!' Yeah. She was a good cop.

My guns.

2007-10-04T19:32:00.001-07:00

Hittin' the weights again. It's the only part of working out that I LOOOOOOVE. Them weights and the resultant guns they give me. Oh baby, nothing makes you feel powerful like pumping some iron. You wanna drop them weights and go pick a fight. Kick some old lady ass or sumthin. Combine that with the fact that recently you cannot find me without my MP3 player blasting out my ear drums. Lately I have been rocking out 24/7. Been fun.

So what has been making me crazy ecstatic is pumping some iron to Rihanna's Umbrella. SOMEONE I know, mentioned how she had never heard the song. Shame. It's got good words, good beat and a spoon full of Jay-Z makes the medicine go down. I would put the MTV Video Music Awards version on for you, but Youtube is being a bitch. That version is ten times better. She's fierce in it. But this cheeseball commercial version will have to do.

Go get your weights and pump while you watch. OR I WILL KILL YOU.

Not my fault people.....

2007-09-29T14:26:00.000-07:00

Some are concerned with the amount of swear words that, at times, can grace the pages of my wee little bloggie. I would like to say, that THIS time, it is not because I have no other adjective to use to get my point across. Nope. THIS time, when you read the dreaded f-bomb on my blog it will because I fell in love with a bumper sticker that I saw on the car in front of me today.

It read(and I quote) : I fuckin' {heart} fuckin.

Good stuff. Good stuff indeed.

Very entertaining.

2007-09-28T12:39:00.000-07:00

This blog made me giggle out loud at some of the images. Pretty cool.

Faces In Places

I am so sick of this thing...

2007-09-21T13:21:00.000-07:00

It's no secret that Dennis Rodman lives here behind the Orange Curtain in OC. Yes, OC, not "The O.C." Do you say "The L.A. ?" No. You don't. So don't call it "The O.C.", it's OC.

Now that we have THAT cleared up, Dennis, he lives down here. Why, I have no idea. Because of all places in California, Orange County is probably one of the most conservative. Anyway, he drives this fucking Hummer that's specialized to say the least. You can't miss it when it's on the road. I am so sick of seeing it. He works out at the gym just down the street from my house and RIGHT next to my favorite place of all time, The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf. So if I visit my blessed little coffee shop, I have a 50/50 chance of NOT finding a parking space because Dennis Fucking Rodman likes to park his Hummer in about 3 spaces out of like 6 that is right next to the Coffee Bean. No. He doesn't park in the gym parking lot. It's too far away. Which again, seems to defeat the purpose of wanting to get some exercise if you are unwilling to make the longer walk to the gym from the slightly distant parking lot.

What I am getting at, is this little bitty article from TMZ pissed me off, because to you all you folks out in Dana Point, I can like, totally relate and stuff. But for the record, I cannot relate to you because you are handicapped/ possibly retarded and then shouldn't be driving any. No, I can just relate, because I think Dennis Rodman is a parking prick. That and he has cut me off TWICE leaving that parking lot. FUCKER!

The NY Times always pleases.

2007-09-20T15:19:00.001-07:00

It's my deep addiction to news and reading and damn can them NY Times writers write and stuff. They be good. Always a treat. But this article captivated me. I find this article fascinating. Couch Surfing. I would do it in a heart beat. I would love kinda travel adventure.

My husband? Not so much. He is such a party pooper. Or in this case a couch pooper I guess.

On a up note - planning on visiting Croatia next August. Should be interesting. Though I am sure the King will not allow me to sleep on a strangers couch while there. Again. Total couch pooper.

Happy N.T.L.A.P.D

2007-09-19T14:18:00.000-07:00

Yep. Juuuuuuuust like last year - it's National Talk Like a Pirate Day.

Rape, Pillage and Burn muther fuckers....arr...

Will you marry me?

2007-09-18T09:53:00.000-07:00

I just got asked to perform a wedding ceremony for someone! I am going to officiate a wedding people! I am totally scared outta my mind! You see I have never, and I do mean never, had stage fright. I didn't think, until now, that it was physically impossible for me to. If you met me, you would understand why. I am little freaky like that. Speeches in school ? Not a fucking problem. Public speaking in any form? Lay it on me. Never a prob. I love me the spot light.

But - performing a wedding!? I have to be serious. Sensitive. Thoughtful. I don't think THOSE traits are within me. Kinda like O.J. has no sense of right or wrong. Same thing, just not murderous. No, more humorous. Deadly funny maybe. Who knows.

Anyway. I need to go get ordained. I think you can do it through the Universal Life Church online. And you can pick your name. I want to be Reverend Ass Whooping. Or maybe Reverend Queen of Annaland. Or maybe Reverend Fishfucker. The possibilities are endless.

I have my own little Prince advent calendar

2007-09-17T08:27:00.000-07:00

I have been counting down the days religiously. I checked off each day in my planner with a sparkly purple pen anxiously awaiting the Day. The Day I speak of is next Saturday. The Day, I will be attending a Prince themed costume party.

YESSSSSS, I shall be dressing like the Purple One. Everyone there will. I cannot wait. It will be a sea of Prince's. All joining in unity to celebrate the Artist Formerly Known As Prince, Then Known As Prince Again And Now Just Called Prince Like He Had Never Weirdly Changed His Name In the First Place.

I shall have lace, heels, a raper 'stache and the need to make doves cry in the purple rain.

It will be the Queen of Annaland's Purple Reign. (Get it, reign, rain...? Like I just now, right there did a witty and cool play on words. Like it's my reign as queen and the rain from the sky... never mind.)

Anyway - I hope the party shall emulate this. (And you MUST watch if you have never seen it.)

I cannot WAIT for Heather Armstrong to talk about THIS

2007-09-15T12:12:00.000-07:00

I am just not sure what to say.

'Eww!' No that's not right. How about 'Huh?!' Nope. Doesn't work either. How about 'Oh my fucking GAWD! I don't know whether to be turned on or lock my door and turn off my porch light in case they come knocking!'

Yes. That seems to fit. See for yourself. LORDY - that's sexy.

Grateful for new appliances

2007-09-14T16:13:00.000-07:00

It occurred to me today as I filled my new refrigerator with the limited amount of food I had stored in the previous one (the previous one, that is sitting in my back yard- YES.. you read that right, in my backyard, right next to my bedroom patio door and the potted plumeria)that I am grateful that I no longer have to get clothes on if I want to get a tasty snack at 3 AM. You see, there is always the off chance that at 3 AM at my house that my nocturnal lesbian neighbors may be out in the back yard mowing the lawn, painting the shed or smoking their umteenth cigarette before turning in ... at 3 AM. So you must risk giving a peep show for the convenience of nighttime nudity and snacks.

So as I loaded up my new fridge that is IN my house, like even in the kitchen and stuff, I shed a tiny, happy little tear of joy and pride that we have come as far as we have in this evil, head splitting, chew you up and spit you out remodel.

Yippee, I can eat pizza in the nude in the middle of the night. Big change, since normally I just eat it naked at 11am, inside Shaky's - so I can avoid the lunch rush.

I asked the King last night...

2007-09-12T16:06:00.000-07:00

and he said he WOULD have agreed to do this too at our wedding if we had thought of it. I want to invite these two over for beer and to a little dance off... they would be fun and I am sure they would let me shit talk them as we played.

I also once saw and entire wedding party dance out the Thriller video. Kicked ass. I would BEG to be a bridesmaid in a wedding if they promised we would do THAT! Even if it meant I had to wear a purple polka dot bridesmaids dress.

Uh huh

2007-09-08T20:11:00.001-07:00

"You smell that? Do you smell that? Napalm, son. Nothing else in the world smells like that. I love the smell of napalm in the morning. You know, one time we had a hill bombed, for twelve hours. When it was all over I walked up. We didn't find one of 'em, not one stinkin' dink body. The smell, you know that gasoline smell, the whole hill. Smelled like... victory. Someday this war's gonna end... "

yeah... I am drunk

Sometimes I just aint a smart ass. Really.

2007-09-07T11:05:00.000-07:00

You grow older and learn that your wants are simpler than you ever imagined. You realize all the big dreams you had when you were young are still relevant, but the big things aren't as , I dunno, big to you. Important yes, but there is something that is just as important. The littlest of things - they are just as wonderful.

Coffee in the morning in my backyard with my husband is just as good as any of those "Big things". Hell, even better in many ways. We have a stereo system outside so we will listen to yummy music (not too loud) and enjoy the break of day. This is my favorite song to hear float in the wind on those mornings.

Actually all the time. It's one of my favorite songs ever. Always makes me smile.

Enjoy people.

Incredible Hulk

2007-09-05T10:42:00.000-07:00

After two months of lifting 5/8" sheets of drywall it has apparently added to my bufftitude. Over the brutally hot weekend, we moved some of our larger furniture back into our house after having it absolutely barren for something like 18 weeks. 18 very long and mean weeks.

I was excited to have a LIVING ROOM again. You know. To LIVE in? Yay! I remember moving it out in the first place and how brutal it was. Our couch, to me, weighed a million pounds. It was bulky and awkward to move and my husband had to baby me and take it slow moving it in stages so I didn't drop it since it out weighed me by like TWO TRILLION POUNDS.

Moving it back in? I did it with one hand. Honestly. I had to open doors and move things so I held it with my left hand and manuevered around locked doors and extra chairs with the other. It was a breeze.

We sat it in our new living room and with out even batting an eye I went to pick up one of our armchairs on my own as my husband sat on the couch. An arm chair that was so brutal for me to move the last time that I dropped it and started world war three here at the Land of Anna. This time. Like butta', like butta' people.

I am the Incredible Hulk in so many ways. Like, for instance, you won't like me when I am angry. I have a thang for purple pants. For some reason my closet is full of shredded pairs. Not sure how I brutalize them. Hmm. I also look great in a black haired bowl cut. Really. I wear it all the time. ALL the time. Me and the Hulk. We are one. Don't believe me? Then check THIS out.

What the @#%$!!!!!!!

2007-08-31T15:20:00.000-07:00

You see a house and there is a square hole in the wall where a window should be. And if this square fucking hole has sheets of thin plastic on it taped to the drywall with blue painters tape, would you think it was water tight enough to spray a garden hose at it full force?

No I don't think you would. I think you would stop, with the hose in your hand, water squirting all over the sidewalk and wonder "Hummm.... I don't think that thin little plastic is gonna hold if I shoot water at it like a firehose. I think I will turn off the hose, get the hell out of the PMSing owners way (and trust me, home girl is REALLY PMSing today) and make everyone a little safer."

yes. That is what YOU would do. The dumb workers here, RIGHT now as I type this that speak no Ingles, waiting for me to slam my fist into a wall and yell at them, are not as smart as YOU.

I want to call immigration RIGHT NOW.

A couple that sings together

2007-08-28T19:12:00.000-07:00

When I am fiddling around the house, I like to fuck with the King of Annaland. He HAS to finish the line in the Kaiser Chiefs song Ruby.. basically the melody that one of the band mates hollers after the lead singers screams Ruby.

So no matter where he is in relation to me in the house, if I scream "RUBY, RUBY, RUBY, RUBY!" if I wait a second... I will hear my man follow it up with the back up to it.

Doesn't really make sense unless you know the song, since there aren't WORDS that follow the screaming of Ruby, just back up vocals. But he HAS to finish it. It pisses him off. The other day, we were fighting and in the middle, I broke out with "RUBY, RUBY, RUBY, RUBY!" and before he finished his argument, he had to sing along.

No he is not obsessive compulsive. He is retarded. I like me the retards.

So tired of spending $$

2007-08-27T09:41:00.000-07:00

We are wrapping up our monstrous remodel. We are coming to the part that is the most expensive and it's been PAINFUL to spend the cash. I know this is what we planned for, but I feel like I would be more comfortable severing a limb in trade for the items we still need rather than forking over our credit card.

It's to the point that last night, we went out to spend MORE money and I handed the girl our credit card, glared at her and my husband soberly and said, "I am walking away now. Do not tell this man (my husband) the grand total until you see me on the other side of the store - well away from earshot. If you do not, I may pass out."

Then, I simply walked away, gripping the walls with my hands trying to stay conscious, hyper-ventilating and staggering a little. She did not bat an eye. Evidently, she gets that request a lot.

Couple of things I need to get off my hairy chest

2007-08-24T16:50:00.000-07:00

1. I have found THE best spicy tuna roll on the planet. The PLANET people. Them Japanese ain't got nuthin' on my new boyfriend the sushi chef hidden here in THE O.C. I love him. I shall leave my husband for him if he would promise to prepare this lovely roll for me breakfast, lunch and dinner. MMMMMMM... mama likes...

2. Been constantly hungry since I was 16. Right now? Hungry. I ate a full meal 45 minutes ago. Must eat AGAIN. It's like it's all I do. BUT, I claim victory. Went to the doctor today - they weighed me, I STILL weigh the same as I have every year for the past 7 years when I started going to this office. AND I have been eating fast food like everyday since I have no kitchen. I win.

3.Totally over my braces. I am in the rubber band stage, which means I look like a vampire when I laugh. My laugh sounds like a trucker, but I have the smile of a vampire. I think that means I am either a vucker or a trampire. Not sure which. Open to suggestions.

4. My dog mutilated herself recently. Cut a HUGE gash in her chest and had to have a drain tube in her throat/chest area plus metal stitches. Yeah, she did it to herself. Not the stitches, but the gash. Its like she likes to cut herself or something. She likes to blood let. She couldn't care less that the gash or resulting stitches were there. She is super. And stupid. That means she's stuper.

5. Been working on feng shui design for my home. It's like HARD and stuff. Them Asians. Always making things hard for us round-eyes. It's like they have fucked up the feng shui understandability bell curve. Damn. Sorry to my Asian friends, but you KNOW it's true. Admit it, right now you are laughing and hi-fiving your friends because you know you made that feng shui crap hard on purpose, just to get a kick outta watching me scratch my head.

OK. That's all I got. Going to eat now.

N.W.A

2007-08-15T16:53:00.000-07:00

Driving on the freeway this morning, I pass by our local airport. The freeway I was on is in the landing pattern for the planes so if you time it well, you can get a huge plane flying a c-hair in front of you. This happened today.

The airline? Northwest. The abbreviation on the plane? NWA.

And I could have sworn I saw Dr. Dre in an Eazy-E t-shirt flipping me off from a window in first class. I dunno, maybe the sun was in my eyes....

Public speaking

2007-08-14T16:53:00.001-07:00

Weird day. Cool, but weird.

Got a call last night from a police office in Cypress who had seen me speak at one of my victim impact panels for MADD. He asked me if I would be willing to do a speech at the OC Coroner's office regarding my death notification experience when my brother was killed.

So I did. I hung at the county coroner's office and meet with coroners from all over southern California. They are a lively bunch. Really. Very nice folks. It was odd, because they would come up after and thank me for volunteering my time to share my memories. As a reflex after they said "thank you", the first words out of my mouth were "my pleasure". Really? To talk about my such a terrible thing? They would kinda look at me strange. Uh? Awkward.

Yeah- totally put my foot in my mouth. I can't even handle myself around death workers. Great. I really need to get some social skilz.

On an up note, got to see someone in a body bag get taken away. Shit. See!? Again... totally fucking it up. Not an up note people. At least it shouldn't be. But it was cool. Ok, not cool. Fascinating.

I am so morbid. I should be Goth.

Motion activated sprinkler is power!

2007-08-09T08:28:00.001-07:00

I have a rock pooper. One of my blessed canine beasts like to drop evil loads in my rock bed in my back yard instead of in the nicely clipped grass just 4 feet away. She doesn't want to get her paws wet if the grass is damp I suppose. She just won't do it. She hates to get wet and she HATES getting on the WET grass unless she is speeding towards a tennis ball. Even though the graass is nice and clean. She is a rock pooper.

This annoyed the King and I do no end. Mainly because it's hard to pick up in there, we sit RIGHT by those rocks and you would sit down in your chair and get all comfy only to be horrified with the foul odor of one of her evil turds. I really does take away from the tranquility of relaxing, smelling poopie.

After YEARS of fighting to prevent this little act, it had come down to this: she would only do it when we were away from the house since she KNEW it was wrong. If we are at home she would fight to go in the grass and even run up after she was done in the grass all proud like she wanted to show you "See!? I am a grass pooper... not a rock pooper... you got the wrong guy!" She is a liar. I could read it in her beedy little eyes. It was like a game of cat and mouse, only dog and human, not sure who is the mouse and who is the cat, but whatever.

Well I win. I bought THIS little nifty gadget. It works. Oh God does it work. Worth every penny. I hooked it up. Left the house for a nice power walk and when I had returned!? Soaked wet dog and no shit in my rocks.

How do you spell victory!? P-O-O-P-F-R-E-E-R-O-C-K-S.

Bleck......

2007-08-08T08:56:00.000-07:00

I have a few guys at my place currently finishing that drywall the my man and I could not bear to handle - and I am frustrated. TWO MONTHS of hanging 5/8 drywall with my delicate hands has made me so. Shit is hard. Or at least so I thought until these two ass clowns from the dry wall company breezed in and in a matter of a couple of hours completed something that would have taken hubby and I weeks more to finish.

When I saw the lofty speed at which these fine men swept through my humble abode and finalized all that I had been laboring over, I was pissed. HOW DARE they work more efficiently and effectively.

And I told them. I came home after a bit of work yesterday to find a huge chunk of the project complete and these two fine gentlemen sitting proudly in the front yard resting and taking a little break. I was dressed to the nines, make up all did purdy and stuff for my clients when I wandered through my home and stared in astonishment at the rate in which these guys were clearing out the tasks.

I calmly walked out front where these two squires of drywall rest, stoped in front of them with my meanest look, hands on my hips and yelled : "Hey! You fucking assholes! Can you at least make it look hard for me to feel better? You two are fucking cocks."

They froze for a minute in shock, eyes wide like saucers that these words had dribbled from this tiny, fuzzy haired blond. Then... they laughed hysterically and handed me one of their cans of Bud. It was 10:30 am. Good times. Good times.

Special Report: Hell froze over; sinners in igloos

2007-07-27T13:07:00.000-07:00

The King of Annaland is going to babysit tomorrow.

Yes. You read that right. The King of Annaland will be handling a 1 year old child BY HIMSELF. As in WITHOUT ME. No other individual (other than the child) will be there to change diapers, cuddle and coo.

My lovely friend Melody has 3 cute as button kids and plans to take the older two to the circus tomorrow. You may be as shocked as I am at times that I actually babysit for Mel. I tend not to speak of it much since I have a rep to protect. But King of Annaland? He has come with me a couple of times. But never has he been stuck with the task by himself.

Amazingly, when I called him while he was a safe distance away from me at work to break the news to him that I just volunteered him to the job - he was totally cool with it. Evidently, casual Friday at his job also includes a hit on a crack pipe.

Testing 1,2,3... Is this thing on????

2007-07-19T16:31:00.000-07:00

PEOPLE! Listen. If you haven't taken the time, PLEASE do so and make an effort to watch the new show on VH1 (I think) Scott Baio is 45 and Single.

OMG. So good. Not in a raunchy, stupid way - but in a "wow, you got a good point there" kinda way.

Alls I can say is that after one commercial break on the 1st episode, I am hooked and I am totally hoping Chachie finds himself in the 8 week process it will take.

Also, I am drunk.

Kicking little kids asses since 1996...

2007-07-18T10:20:00.001-07:00

Don't mess with me people. I will take you down as I did my neighbors son on the 4th of July. Little 7 year old was talkin' smack. He had to be put down.

Also, his mother and I were drunk.

Attitude of gratitude.

2007-07-16T09:27:00.000-07:00

Been an EXTREMELY rough year for the King of Annaland and myself. Not between us. In fact, I am sure I have mentioned this before, but with all we have gone through in the past 8 months up until now, we have really rallied together. We definitely proved to each other that we are partners. Felt good.

But now? Now that hell is past us and for the first time in quite a long time, we can breathe a sigh of relief. We took a much needed trip to Hawaii. We sat and drank rum on the beach. We did very little. We listened to waves crash on the beach. We woke up at 5 am and listened to the birds welcome the mornings and we held hands.

I feel like right now I weigh about 1,000 pounds less than I did. I have never felt better even though there is STILL drywall dust between my toes.

Many thanks to Melody, Tracy, and Sprinkles. Three women who don't know each other very well, each know me quite well in three different ways and all three were outlets of honesty and relief. I have learned one thing through all of this: what real, raw friendship is. Extra hugs to Sprinkles - an amazingly true friend.

Thank you. God, I feel good.

Anna = G. Dubya

2007-07-13T16:01:00.000-07:00

A lovely friend of mine who decided to give California the "bird" and deserted me entirely, (Yes deserted ME. Because it is always about me and not about the betterment of family and future. ME ME ME ME ME. ) felt it necessary to assist me with my understanding of our crappy government and posted a blissfully adorable comment regarding my last post.

It's was a tough read as me don't get them there big werds and stuff. I took the time. Tried to read it. I fell asleep through his notes once or twice as it was just so darn tootin' tough to care. Woke up flat faced, drooling and snoring on my desk. I think the only reason I woke up was because I farted.

Then I realized: Based on my actions , I COULD be president. Just probably with more drool.

I hate our president.

2007-07-12T17:40:00.000-07:00

I just do.

George Bush can suck it. He needs to listen to the overwhelming demand of the people of this country and bring the troops home. Every time he ignores the will of the people he proves he is not "LEADING" the people but directing them with HIS will. Those who DID vote for him, didn't vote for him to make decisions for them, but to be REPRESENTATIVE of them. I hate him an have never wanted this C- student representing me nor have I ever wanted this idiot sending soldiers in harms way for NOTHING. I never ONCE got lower than a fucking B in school.

He is an asshole.

Hi. I am back to blogging. :)

i dont know what time it is

2007-06-30T09:57:00.000-07:00

because i am in hawai'i.

yep.

i love me some vacation. no remodel. no work. no cell phone. (ok - a little).

just lots of rum. lots of lounging.

neener neener.

I have 9 fingers and show butt crack...

2007-06-20T10:06:00.000-07:00

It is evident that I am unable to multi task. I cannot live a life where I do more than one thing at a time. Take remodeling your entire living space at one time for instance. It seems that if I am doing that, I am only do THAT. Nothing else. Not thinking. Not returning phone calls. Not brushing my teeth nor wearing deodorant. Not one thing can get in my way of doing my project.

So here I sit at my very dusty computer. In my very dirty office with unshaven legs and wrinkled clothes wondering how - dear God HOW?!- I can try and write a post when there is something I could be destroying drywall-wise in the front of my home. I have been holed up in this house for too long now. I am unclear on reality. All I know from the outside world is told to me by construction workers and delivery boys. They are my human contact. I feel like a caged animal. Just throw me some raw meat and a People magazine and I am good here in my hovel.

My husband can do it. He gets up every morning and goes to work and appears to be normal to the outside world. Me, on the other hand, I visited Starbucks yesterday for the first time in weeks and felt as if a veil had been lifted from my eyes and I saw the outside world once more for all it's glory. I even had someone drop change in my coffee mug before I could take my first sip. I guess it was the fact I was laying on the ground and had my underwear over my pants that tipped them off to being possibly homeless. Who knows.

Needless to say - I have always claimed that I was a hermit. That I did not want nor need outside connections. My God how wrong I was. Help. Me. I am thinking of collecting stray cats. I am losing my mind.

Word to the wise: Never remodel.

Jenna Elfman be one funny mo fo...

2007-06-05T11:05:00.000-07:00

I love funnyordie.com. I would like to thank Will Ferrell and his freaky friends for creating this gem of a website.

Here is my current fave: Mama Jams

"Count it!" "Suck it up motherfucker!"

Important but forgot to mention...

2007-06-01T08:56:00.000-07:00

The album "St. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" from my beloved Beatles came out on this day 40 years ago. Holy shit! That album is 40 years old!?

Last month, Morrissey celebrated his 49th birthday. PEOPLE MORRISSEY IS ALMOST 50!

dear. god.

Miss vegetables

2007-06-01T08:40:00.001-07:00

A by product of the whole not having a kitchen thing has been the increased amount of visits to fast food establishments. I have issue with eating a whole meal that was presented to you in a paper bag. Much like I cannot stand soda. EXCEPT for what it is was meant for - alcohol mixer.

We have no kitchen and no free time to shop. I used to shop ever couple of days for a meal I would make at home. I LOVE to cook and I am a firm believer of filling half of your plate with veggies. Thankfully - this is food I really, really enjoy so it's not really hard to eat healthy. This is not to say I don't eat fast food or junk food. It's OK and gets the job done when you are hung over. But every day for a week and a half!? Hell no.

Christ. I feel the effects of two weeks of nightly whoppers on my body. Thankfully - no signs of ass enlargement or anything like that. But DAMN am I tired! My sever lack of nutrition the past week or so has made me a mental blob.

I hate it. I haven't even been able to blog. I can barely type. The mush I have been eating has made me head mush. That's the truth. It's horrible.

NO MORE - I am sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo over fast food. Not that I was ever under it so to speak. But I miss broccoli. I miss it so much - so today I plan to head to T.J.'s and plop myself down in the produce isle and make sweet love to some red peppers and maybe some spinach. Oh, spinach, I miss you. We never talk anymore. You should come over tonight, bring a bottle of wine and we can cuddle.

See? I am delirious....

DAYUM!

2007-05-24T09:22:00.001-07:00

KABOW! (1 shot fired)

"That's for taking the boy off the boat." - Sawyer

Best line of the whole episode.

Bad hearts and free hats

2007-05-23T15:18:00.000-07:00

Monday afternoon my ex step mom called me. I love her. I always have so I was overjoyed to hear from her. Until after 5 seconds of happy hellos she proceeds to tell me my dad had a heart attack and had to be emergency airlifted to some hospital that it a bit better equpped to handle his situation. Rather than the local hospital who see more Coon Hound bites and moonshine poisonings than anything else. Folks there don't have heart attacks. Nope - at that the local hospital they just say your "ticker plum gave out" and pull the sheet over you. Hence - a the need for a GOOD hospital which equals a helicopter flight to another town.

Evidently, he felt like he had heart burn all weekend and finally Monday morning went to his doctor who said "HELLO!? Your heart is attacking - you must go to the ICU NOW or you will be a memory."

So he went, up , up and away in a life flight helicopter. By the time I get on the phone with him Monday night, I am crying a and freaking out. And you know what he does? He just goes ON and ON and ON about the helicopter flight. Like it was one of the top ten things to ever happen to him. The highlight of the past ten year it seems. He couldn't say enough about it and how cool it was. Whatever.

I call him Tuesday and he is in even better spirits than the day before when his heart tried to stop working. Evidently, the crew of the helicopter had so much fun with him while on the flight - because my dad can do stand up comedy laying down while his heart is in full arrest, he's a total multi tasker - that they stopped by and gave him a t-shirt and hat. My dad was on cloud nine. He didn't even notice he was in the cardiac ICU with wires and tubes connected to him with a hospital gown that is the cotton equivalent to assless chaps. Nope. Yippee for Daddy - he got a hat from the pilot of the neato helicopter. Yippee.

People wonder why I am the way I am. This story of the man who helped raise me, is a perfect example. I shall file this under - REASONS I WILL NEVER BE ABLE FUNCTION NORMALLY IN SOCIETY - MY PARENTS.

Crabs and the Bering Sea........

2007-05-17T18:10:00.000-07:00

How could these two things be so fucking fascinating!? Dear God. My strange addiction runs deep. I never miss an episode. Ok - WE - the King of Annaland and myself, that is. I am talking about the Deadliest Catch. It is the life blood of our marriage. It is up there with our vows, our love of coleslaw and Special Olympics jokes. Sometimes, in my heart, I feel it trumps all of them. Especially the vows part. I mean - jeeze, we all know I got married for the sex. But a tv show about crabs!? Stop the press. I t makes me rethink EVERYTHING.

For my husband, I think he is in lust with the show because he is a little kid. And little kids lust a lot. I know this. I have watched documentaries about this kind of thing and it makes me an expert. He still gets giddy at the sight of a honest to God bulldozer in action and icky slimy worms. This fills this category well. The show, if you have never seen it, documents the crab season in Alaska as men work 36 hour days on fishing boats as HUGE, GINORMOUS WAVES from the bowels of the sea attack these small vessels. People die every year as the frigid waters will kill you in less that 2 minutes. He loves watching the action when the weather gets crazy.

Me? Why do I like it? Because I am a tomboy through and through and LOVE boating in any form. The crazier the better. Not speed boats, that takes no talent. No no. Unless you call spewing gas fumes into the air and wearing leopard print swim suits while sucking on Bud talent. And for some - it is. Much like thinking is a talent for these same people. But THIS!? Hold on folks, try maneuvering a boat like a bobble head in the scary ass waters of the Bering Sea with rouge waves that will flip tankers like toy boats. Just TRY. I dare you. You are soaked and you have to fight the elements to stay ON the boat and keep it moving and not die a horrible death. Totally sounds like fun. The whole man (WOMAN) against the sea and the elements. Like Lieutenant Dan and his stumpy, legless self yelling at God in Forest Gump. Yeah. That's me. Lt. Dan. But WITH legs. And boobies. Gary Sinise would be proud. Fuck it, I KNOW he is.

I swear to God, I wish I could have been a pirate. Or a lion tamer. It's a toss up.

Drunk Girl Mixed Tape

2007-05-15T12:21:00.000-07:00

Last night at about 9:30 as I was feeling buzzed sitting with husband at the computer downloading music I announced I wanted to make a music mix that I could blast on my radio. I like to drive alone and BLARE my radio to wipe out any remaining hearing I have. Hearing is overrated and I would like to really limit it if possible.

Ok, my husband said, just tell me what you think you want on it. Welp, drunk, super animated and overly hyper I begin to peruse the internet to make my cd.

At the time, all the selections made excellent sense. Superior sense. Obvious sense. Like this mix cd has been waiting to be made since the beginning of time and the stars had finally aligned to create the magic.

Now as I listen to the completed cd as I work after last nights magic, hyper, drunk and happy search, I wonder what in the fucking hell I was thinking when I compiled this list. It's a very random compilation to say the least - but no less blastable when sober. But I don't think I would have EVER thought to put this mix combo together when sober.

I will keep the cd. I will play the cd - like now I am totally enjoying it's randomness - but seriously, what the hell was wrong with me last night?????

The Anna Blast Mix:

Devil Went to Georgia - Charlie Daniels (a VERY good start, yes???)
Because of You - Ne-Yo (he sounds like Michael on Thriller - I like me some Ne Yo)
Maneater - Nelly Furtado (because I am)
Run Like Hell - Pink Floyd
Faster Kill Pussycat - Paul Oakenfold (the beat makes me wanna smack someone -in a good way)
Red Rain - Peter Gabriel
Goodbye Stranger - Supertramp (they really are super people)
Turn to Stone - ELO (back when High Fi was "it" these guys had 'it')
Take the Long Way Home - Supertramp (again - yes...)
Sweet Talkin Woman - ELO
Mr. Blue Sky - ELO
Livin' on a Prayer - Bon Jovi (you have to ask why??????)
Oh Sherry - Steve Perry (some ON, how could it NOT be on here?)

So that you know, at 11 pm last night when the King was making this for me, I was BOUNCING around the house as I FORCED him to blast our computer speakers to 11, yes, 11.. because it's better than 10.

When I am not blogging, I am emailing my husband this kinda shit.

2007-05-10T15:43:00.000-07:00

I am sure my husband has other things to do at work than read my silly emails. Yet I sit down daily and email him shit like this. It is my way of communicating to him things I need like, "honey - can you snag some more artificial sweetener packets from work?" or "Sweetheart, I tried to get this one remodel task done- but it's hard and I have given up." Both are just a sentence. How boring is that? No. I would rather sit down for 10 minutes and write out a story.

Here are 2 for your pleasure.

**********

Email 1 -

Subject: Just breaking Splenda news...

Reporter: "It's another Splenda emergency here on ??????? Drive. I'm here on the scene with one witness who wished to only be identified as Anna. Tell me Anna, you seem shaken. What did yo see here earlier today?"

Anna: "Well, I am a little stunned. It's kinda hard for me to grasp right now. I was alone in my kitchen and decided to make myself a cup of tea. When I went to my cubbard (sp?) to grab a packet of Splenda... well (tears welling up in her eyes)... I'm sorry. I just so hard to talk about."

Reporter: "I understand. Take your time...."

Anna: "Thanks. (Sniff.) Anyway. I went to grab a packet to sweeten my tea and I was OUT OF SPLENDA." I couldn't believe it. It's terrible. Just terrible. Oh the humanity!"

Reporter: "Well there you have it folks. Another cup of tea, senselessly forced to be consumed without being sweetened. Seems hard to imagine, I know. When will the carnage end? Only time will tell..."

:)

Anna

Note: His response? None - he just brough home a fucking HUGE bag of Splenda. Score.

***********
Email 2 -

Subject: Diary of an incapable remodeler.

Day 27

Lessons of the day. Today, I found that within myself, my powerful intention is no match for my ability to bruise like a banana. Case in point. I have obtained hard to find lights, determined appropriate appliance purchase protocol to maximize value and cost savings, I have negotiated drywall/hardibacker board to the cut rate price of $2 dollars and been able to return said piece of board home all without any hitches or derailments. But I cannot, for the life of me score and cut a piece of drywall.

Those with limited verbal skills and large butt cracks have beat me in this game of ability. I have found that I can pretend to be as capable as they and even display a little coin slot crack for my husbands amusement and benefit, but when it comes to actual drywall work - I am as effective alone as a pencil without lead.

So here I sit - full of will and intent and an intact piece of drywall. It lays there mocking me. Taunting me to come and get it and take charge of it and all I can do is stand beside it and stare - hoping it will install itself to the windowsill.

I consider this my moment of zen where I have learned the universe though limitless - has set limits on me and my girl power. Fucking universe.

:(

Anna

Note: His response? He called to tell me to find a way to cure cancer instead of wasting my brain power on these emails.

***********

I have WAAAAAY too much time on my hands......

SAH-WEET

2007-05-10T13:30:00.000-07:00

This is my current kitchen. We have relocated microwave and toaster to the bathroom. Yep. The shitter. It's where I made my dinners. When you are forced to combine your kitchen and bathroom you must re-name the facility to suit the needs it is currently faced with. Kitchen + bathroom = bitchen.

Yep. I have a bitchen.

Suckers...

2007-04-30T08:39:00.000-07:00

The King of Annaland is the KING of diffusing my bitchy wrath. I have a VERY short temper - and though I am good at hiding it with most folks - he is married to me and gets the brunt of the bitch. But he is GRRRREAT at stopping the moment where I am about to loose my top and snap - he will say something that stops me in my tracks and makes me simply giggle. It's basically a survival tactic. A good one.

The other night he was sore from working on the house. His hands ached. He kept complaining about his hands. He told me to call him "Hans" because of it. Accent and everything. All night long he referred to himself as "Hans with the hands". It was pretty lame actually.

Later when we were in bed, we were discussing something and it became a heated debate. He could tell I was inching closer to blowing a fuse. As I began to rant and rave, he sat up in bed, looked straight at me and smiled and YELLed - "Shut up and suck on my Hans pop!"

Doesn't seems as funny now when written out for all intereneters to see. But I can assure you - I died it was so funny.

Somewhere, there is a little old man sending me retarded bulk mail - to spite me.

2007-04-28T14:53:00.000-07:00

It's really a bummer when you get loser bulk mail. I am used to the PennySaver, the oil change coupons and the realtor letters. But when people have narrowed down your demographic so much that the mail you receive is talking directly to you... You gotta wonder - is there a think tank out there who has a file on me and are looking for bulk mail opportunities to fuck with me?

Yes people. I think that there is.

Case in point. A postcard I received yesterday. There is a picture of a woman, who looks a great deal like me. Which is to say she is STUNNING and you can't take your eyes off her and her huge rack.

Anywho... It's a HUGE postcard - all glossy and cardstock like and stuff. A really pricey piece of mail. It's addressed directly to me. Not Current Resident. Not King of Annaland. Nope. It's got my full name. All of it. And if you knew me, you would know my name is a handful. It's got my full name on it. This card was meant for me. Forged from glory specifically for me to send me a magically mystical message. It's urgent. It's urgent, urgent bulk mail that THEY NEED me to see before it's too late.

What was it for? It was an offer to freeze my eggs. THOSE eggs. Because, apparently, demographically speaking, my kind (mid 30's) are in dire times if we ever hope to become mothers. The end is near. Like a whole 6-12 years and closing FAST! It points out how I should be able to set my OWN biological clock. That freezing my eggs is my best choice right now since I am a terrible female for not using my God given eggs sooner and if I get my head out of my ass and call them they can save my future family from oblivion. Thank God they found me. I had these eggs just SITTING here and had no idea what to do with them. Lugging them around wherever I go. It really is a huge burden. Until this post card came, I was at a loss. Now, I am free.

Yee- fucking haw.....

Two Enter, One Leaves......

2007-04-25T15:54:00.000-07:00

My dogs are super excited these days with the remodel and all. It's like a month long camping fest for them. When they get excited, they play around ... and it's getting pretty crazy over here in Annaland. Lot's of dog on dog action. It's like Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome. No furniture to hit - huge open spaces to pounce each other. All we need is Tina Turner and some primal chanting. I think my dogs would look good in some sort of post apocalyptic loin cloth and headdress.

Needless to say, though this remodel may slowly kill me - my dogs are on on some puppy/survivor vacation apparently.

Dear 8 lb, 6 oz. baby Jesus... Help Me!

2007-04-22T13:47:00.000-07:00

Today, I made breakfast in my bathroom. Tomorrow, I shall do the same. In fact, that's where my microwave is now. My spices and snacks? In my linen closet. My trusty cast iron skillet we use to live the camping lifestyle that we so lovingly named Hank, because everyone should have a cast iron skillet named Hank? He's in the bathroom too. Hanging with my microwave and stash of paper plates. That's because I no longer have a kitchen. The two opposing pictures were taken at the same vantage point one day apart. Ka POW!

I am now knee deep in remodel mode. It's fun. Super fun. Yesterday we (my friend Jean and I) annihilated my former kitchen. Very therapeutic. Picture two women shorter than Tom Cruise (that's hard to do folks) swinging away with all the fury we could muster at my poor old crappy kitchen cabinets. It was great. Our husbands, who had the tricky task of framing our fireplace (don't ask) we actually a little afraid of us. All that mess you see? Two women did it. Not a man in sight for that. We made that kitchen our bitch.

Sometimes at night, I wake up and they are just staring at me...

2007-04-20T21:26:00.000-07:00

I think my dogs are planning something. I am not sure what, but I can feel it. Sometimes I will walk into a room where they are and they quickly stop what they are doing and try to act "natural". I know something is up.

King of Annaland thinks I am crazy. I dunno. You be the judge.