Okay, I started the day with a Mochassippi from CCs, so the day is already looking much better than yesterday. I've got some new Outkast in. I just finished "The Love Below" and replaced it with "Speakerboxxx." I'm primed for breakin' down some CCS I've been battling with for about a week.

Actually, as frustrating as yesterday morning was, the day ended fairly well. Karate was good last night. We worked on a combination of moves designed for use in sparring. I especially liked the sliding reverse punch we practiced. It took it out of me, I was actually winded after we ran through a few series of it. But it's one of the moves I could actually see myself implementing.

The whole combination was actually quite good...at least the part we worked on. We sort of came to a halt when we got to the spinning back kick. The back kick is going to be the death of me. I just can't do it correctly, I always turn mine into a turning side kick. The few times I think I've actually come close to getting it right, it has no power. It more like a spinning back heel-tap. Oh well, I guess I'm getting better at recognizing what I'm not doing correctly...the hard part is correcting what I now know isn't right.

Meetings, in general, suck. The only thing worse than being stuck in a meeting, is being stuck in a meeting with someone you don't like and a person that doesn't speak English well.

I just returned from a meeting with my arch nemisis, or the person I fondly call "bitch" and her non-english speaking tech. Everything I said to NEST had to be translated by bitch. By translating I mean explaining database requests using hand gestures and speaking in slow, loud, incomplete sentences. At the end of which bitch would always say, "LIKE ....... THE ...... BLAH-BLAH ..... DATA ....... BASE ......... CAN ....... YOU ........ DO ........ WITH ....... THIS ........ONE!?" NEST's response was always to stare blankly at bitch for 30-40 seconds and then slowly nod yes.

Of course, all this means the meeting lasts three times as long as it needs to last. Plus, the room was cold, it's freakin' 30 degrees outside and for some God-forsaken reason the air conditioner is running in the room we're meeting in. Silly me, I didn't think to bring a scarf and gloves along.

I'm sure this was some cruel attempt by the Fates to teach me a lesson in patience and tolerance. Well, it back-fired, now I'm in a bad mood and all I want to do is be mean to people I like.

Oh yeah, today is a party day. The pumpkin spice roll maker isn't here today, so that's something else to be mad about. Maybe the Fates could at least see to it that there is some form of chocolate to wash away the bad memories of NEST bitch.

The espresso machine has left the building. I'm back to caffiene-free tea...Sun Spree Honey to be exact. It's boring but it's warm. I'm thinking about sexing-up the tea routine by switching to Earl Grey or English Breakfast with a splash of half-n-half.

I've already spilt part of my Sun Spree on my new cream colored sweater. I look like I'm lactating tea. It's quite fetching, if you're into the whole middle-aged street urchin look. Can you be a middle-aged street urchin? Probably not.

The pelicans are out on MY part of the lake this morning. They're feeding right now. They're the most intriguing birds. Ducks are like dogs. Geese are just plain mean. Pelicans rock. Their whole attitude is so laid back. They spend most of the time sunning themselves or cruising around in little groups. It's amazing the way they'll suddenly form a big group and start herding fish. It like they all get hungry at the same time. I love watching them. I think they must have sensed that I needed a pick-me-up this morning so they came to my window eat. Monday morning with Sun Spree Honey on my sweater doesn't seem quite so bad anymore.

We'll my eight-year-old little boy is now nine. He actually doesn't want to be referred to as "little boy." I guess not liking the "little" reference isn't anything new. For a long time, we had to introduce him to people as "the big kid."

Anyhoo, we celebrated his birthday at the pond with family (grandparents, aunts & uncles, cousins). The cousins had an opportunity to run wild and they took advantage of it. I wonder if an afternoon like today was the inspiration for Lord of the Flies? I don't spend a whole lot of time with packs of pre-teen boys. I recommend that it be avoided.

A co-worker brought an espresso machine to work today along with preemo coffee beans. I recently kicked the coffee habit but I'm just not strong enough to resist a fresh mug of sweet, thick, warm, espresso. I had a cup for breakfast, not the petite 2 ounces you see people enjoying in the movies. I had a big ass mug of espresso. I'm so jacked up right now I can't keep my hands from shaking, I need constant movement. I'm amazed at my ability to make the correct key stokes on the keyboard right now. I'm going to have another mug of the good stuff for lunch. That's right, I don't mean WITH lunch, I mean FOR lunch.

Okay, so I failed to file a daily report of my trip after day two. The wedding was nice. The little one's were good in general. The flight back home was absolute torture. It included an unexpected four-and-a-half-hour lay-over in the Atlanta airport. The delay put us back at home at 1:45 a.m. and me in my bed at 2:30 a.m. The only good that came out of it was the fact that my little one actually slept on the last leg of our journey home! I needed the "down time" on the flight after having spent over four hours trapped in an airport with a wide-awake toddler who should have already been tucked into bed. I think all the unforunate people who were trapped in the gate area with us were equally thankful that she slept on the flight. By the way she acted in the airport, running around half-crazed, "talking" to complete strangers, I'm sure most feared the worst, that she would be in full-blown toddler mode for the flight. The gas ran out of her tank not too long after take-off, and she snored peacefully for the flight home.

So, now I'm back to the daily drudgery. Taking a week off makes me realize that I hate my job. I can go for months at a time actually believing that I enjoy going into work, that I'm lucky because, for the most part, I actually enjoy what I do for a living. Then, I take a vacation, and I realize work sucks, I've been deluding myself along. How long must I wait until the mind-numbing bureacracies of my daily life finally brain wash me again into a sense of fulfillment?

The two-year-old was in much better spirits today. A few small break downs. After the all-out tantrum in Atlanta, it's going to take a major toddler blow-out to phase me.

I was quite amused by a brief conversation I had at a Hardees in Wassau.

Me: I'd like a kids meal with chicken strips and an orange drink, also a #1 with a diet coke.
Fast food guy: You have an accent, it sounds British.
Me: I'm from Louisiana.
FFG: That's funny because you don't sound southern, you were ordering and I was thinking you could be from England.
Me: Um, yeah, I guess maybe a southern accent could sound British...

Yeah, probably not. What's really amusing is that I didn't grow up in the south and most southerners would tell you I sound like I'm from up north.

We left the house at 4:30 a.m. to make our 6 a.m. flight. The two-year-old behaved remarkably well on the first leg our journey. I believe the novelty of flying contributed to her accomodating behavior. It was too good to last. Sweet-Mary-Sunshine disappeared at our lay-over.

Near the end of our hour-and-a-half wait, a full blown tantrum ensued. She held nothing back in making a scene...screaming, slapping, kicking, turning entire face and head a deep shade of red, making body rigid so as to become impossible to hold, and then rolling around on the terminal floor flailing arms and legs.

The difficult behavior continued once we boarded our flight. Sitting belted in an airplane seat was no longer an option for my little one. She wanted to keep her body moving and demanded candy or should I say, "can-knee, mo can-knee."

Let's see if I can remember all of the in-flight joy she spread so lovingly. She:
-screamed because she didn't want to be belted
-spilled an entire drink
-screamed because she wanted to sit in a different seat
-screamed because she wanted my magazine
-screamed because she wanted someone else's magazine
-had horrendous gas
-screamed because I wouldn't let her color on me
-screamed because I had no more candy to silence her with
-repeatedly said, "poo poo, mommy, poo poo" when there was in fact no poo only horrendous gas
-screamed because she wanted one of her cousin's books
-screamed because it wasn't "dat book" that she wanted it was "dat (other) book" that she wanted
-screamed because she couldn't sit on my lap
-screamed because she didn't want to sit on my lap
-screamed because her cousin and aunt went to the bathroom
-had more horrendous gas
-screamed because I wouldn't lay my head on her lap and allow her to run her sticky, booger-encrusted fingers through my hair
-screamed from the time the wheels touched the ground until we taxied to the terminal...she apparently thought we should be allowed off the plane as soon as the wheels hit pavement (I'm sure everyone else in the cabin felt the same way)

That pretty much sums it up...wait...she gave the flight attendant a parting gift...gas.

Tomorrow morning my two-year-old and I make our journey to Wisconsin for a cousin's wedding. We will be flying. My sister and her four-year-old are traveling with us. I believe we embody every air-communter's living nightmare. I feel sorry for our prospective co-passengers; they have no way of knowing the living hell that awaits them. Boarding an airplane at 6 a.m. is brutal. Boarding a plane at 6 a.m. and being trapped in a cabin with a 2-year-old and a 4-year-old is just plain inhumane. I've pretty much decided that the girls will be loud. There is nothing that will prevent the loudness, short of heavily medicating my child pre-flight. I'm hoping that she will at least be "happy and loud" as opposed to "irritable and loud." Aside from the "loud" worries, my biggest fear is that my little one will drop a major load in flight. I'm not sure I'm ready for changing a dirty diaper in an airplane lavatory, especially since my little pudding britches likes to "help" clean things up. I don't even want to think about the potential smell...it would travel...it would linger...

I like to think of myself as a fairly physically fit individual for my age...not overweight...don't smoke...exercise weekly...blah, blah, blah. I can barely move today because I spent a couple hours yesterday at a clinic run by Tang Soo Do Masters. It hurts to lift my arms, it hurts to put my arms down, it hurts to sit down, it hurts to stand up. I don't want to think about doing anything that requires lifting or bending...this includes feeding myself and going to the bathroom. There is a group of muscles on my back, immediately below each shoulder blade that ache constanlty. I didn't even know I had a muscle group there. What's worse is realizing what made them ache. Throwing punches into thin air. Yes, that's right, punching and conneting only with air has injured me. My delusion of myself as a kick-ass karate mom has dissolved. I'm merely a middle-aged woman who wears unflattering, oversized pajamas a couple times a week and hops around on a padded mat.

No party today...but I've been bad anyway. My evil co-workers tempted me with the dastardly word "DeAngelo's." I couldn't resist. My stomach was growling and all I had planned for lunch was an Atkin's bar and some water. You see what I mean, I didn't stand a chance.

Onto other things. I called Whitey this morning all excited because I thought I had a comment posted by a non-friend. I thought that I had touched the soul of some casual passerby with my words of wit and wisdom. No such luck. Whitey fessed up. I'm devastated. What's worse, on the off chance that some wandering soul does post a comment, I'll never believe it. Curse you Whitey!

If you would like to create your own pumpkin roll tastiness here are a couple links to recipes:

www.donnagrayson.com/holiday/pumpcakeroll.html

www.pumpkinnook.com/cookbook/recipe04.htm

If you see this...eat it...pumpkin roll cake. I know what you're getting ready to say. Don't! Forget you read the word pumpkin. This delicatable creation was at today's party. I wanted to grab the entire roll and run away with it. Co-workers were arguing over the last piece. I think someone was trying to save it for a person who was supposedly coming to the party late because of a meeting. Yeah, right, likely story.

Of course I didn't stop my carb binge at the pumpkin roll. There was some sort of bizzare looking dip sitting at the end of the table. The main ingredient appeared to be cream cheese, so I didn't let its bizarre appearance prevent me from partaking. Smart move.

In the end, my party experience consisted of me gorging myself on cream cheese filled pumpkin roll and crackers loaded with cream cheese bizzaro dip. Oh yeah, I also ate a brownie...it didn't have any cream cheese on it or in it, but it was moist and chocolatey.

Well, two parties are out of the way, actually, three, there was an impromtu breakfast last Thursday. Which puts the party count up to six in four weeks. Anyway, I didn't attend the breakfast. However, I ate a left over biscuit Friday morning. I began to feel ashamed of myself as I licked the last traces of buttery crumbs off my fingers.

Any-hoo, back to party talk. The Halloween/Homecoming party was Friday afternoon and I totally blew the Lutakins diet because of it. I ate pizza and a truck load of cookies. However, I did win the most spirited prize. I dressed up in my tiger-striped, cowboy pimptress hat and a purple wig. I'm not sure exactly what I was supposed to be, but the judges loved me.

Today is party number three, or four by the new count. Are you confused? I am. Today we have a going away party for someone in the office. She's moving to Vermont and excited about it. We're excited for her to be moving. You can read into that whatever you like. Anyway, the farewell party is this afternoon. I'm sure there will be lodes of carbohydrates. I'm going to eat whatever I want. Tonight's a karate night, maybe we'll do some frog jumps, three or four of those will more than burn off anything I eat at the party.

Time for another hovel update. Things are beginning to come together. The bathroom is almost finished. Just a few minor things need to be done and we can scratch the bathroom off the to-do list. Woo Hoo! The master bedroom received most of its make-over this weekend as well. I spent pretty much the entire weekend moving furniture and scraping, sanding, and painting walls. I made the mistake of giving blood on Saturday...not really a smart thing to do when you plan on spending the entire weekend remodeling.