Oh No She Didn't

My husband's ex-wife wants my husband to continue paying her child support while their daughter is at university. That is, my husband, who is paying for the university, room, board, the meal plan, and who furnished her dorm, is also supposed to write this mother a big check every month for the daughter who is no longer living in the house.

HAHAHAHAHA. Makes my head fucking explode.

Let me make it perfectly clear - I absolutely want my stepdaughter to have every last thing she needs at university. The issue here is this - doesn't this woman feel dirty and pathetic for still wanting the check? Shouldn't this woman want to do something, anything, too contribute to her daughter's success and not just sit back and take checks? Shouldn't she be thanking my husband profusely for making university possible for her daughter?

Alright. We will put it to bed now, as the whole thing just makes me angry. In other news, my ex has actually stepped up to bat and is supporting my theory that we have to get our child out of this free-for-all hippy dippy alternative school that worked like a charm when he was little but is now just all to copacetic. Also, to be perfectly clear, I am not old enough to have a daughter in university. My husband is older than me, and the mother way older than that.

Poise (the princess kind, not the undergarment kind)

It is time now that we take a break from Amy Winehouse news and turn once again to She Who Ended Up With The One Who Actually Turned Out To Be The Less Handsome Prince And Who Does Not Care To Use The Blendy End Of Her Eyeliner of Cambridge. I will say this - the lady has poise. I read somewhere - it would have been either People or Us - that she had months of voice training prior to The Big Day, and that this is credited for her tremendous poise.

She does have this calm, easy confidence. I, on the other hand, tend to emote and get pitchy. So I decided to enroll in voice lessons. Which sounds all so very high maintenance of me, and I actually am not very high maintenance. I have been to voice training twice now and I cannot tell you how much I love it, and how much of a difference it has made already; that is, I feel like I sound much more intelligent! It's way cool. Also, I blend my eyeliner.

Don't Mess With My Target

Oh my goodness what a day. If it could go wrong it did, from the time I walked into the office until the time I walked into Target. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THEY DID AT THE TARGET? They rearranged all the aisles from north/south to east/west. So not okay. I normally find Target so soothing. My Target is all clean and white and red and smells faintly of the Barbie Dream House that I always wanted as a kid but never got. An off-hours trip to Target can be better than therapy.

However.

Now my Target resembles a Costco. I do not care for Costco. I would rather purchase a 50 count of Q-Tips every week (I love Q-Tips) than a 3 brick pack of 500 count Q-Tips. This is space better used for makeup and shoes. I was trying to pick up Season 3 of Nurse Jackie at the Target. When we left her she was the subject of an intervention. All I could find was Season 2. This so would not have happened had they left the aisles north/south. I ended up picking up Dexter on the recommendation of my best bud.

Fried

Y'all. On days when I cook, I'm still doing the White Trash Cooking thing. I deep fried eggplant the other night. I deep fried. I have always been scared of the deep fried process. And, apparently, my husband has always been scared of me deep frying because he actually got out the fire extinguisher while I was cooking. Dude. Have a little faith.

Anyway. Deep fried eggplant is delish. DEELISH. You just dredge eggplant circles through egg then salted cornmeal, and fry. However, when you deep fry in your house, there's not enough candles in the world to take that smell away. Also, I read that being around burning candles is no better than smoking. There's your ominous thought for the day.

I am almost considering a fry-daddy that I could plug in to the outlet on the porch. Because deep fried eggplant? Not available anywhere but delish.

You Know You Have a Problem When . . .

You know you have a problem when you wake up with cupcake crumbs between your cleavage. Anyway, this is better than a hangover.

Last night, I had an extra fun spontaneous dinner with my best bud, but the glass of wine knocked my on my ass. The one glass of weak-ass pino. Dear God, it's me, Associate Girl. What is happening to me?

Also, when the franchisor Mother Ship and the builder ask to review your real estate lease for your space, this greatly complicates things. Also, when you find a little snippet somewhere that says a husband and wife have to operate as a general partnership, this greatly complicates things.

How Many Lawyers and Engineers

This weekend one lawyer and one engineer are going to try to figure out how to open one food booth for a festival that is happening in front of our rental space but before our store is actually open. The festival is in a month and a half. We can figure this out.

Anything not to garden. Why do I hate gardening so much. I like having our yard. I do. Is it because there is just so very much work that needs to be done and I have no idea where to begin? Is it because I am overwhelmed by the expense of everything that needs to get done? Honestly, I think its mostly because I don't like to garden.

There. I said it. I don't like Glee. I hated The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, and I even tried to read it twice. And I don't care to garden. If I didn't bring home the bacon I would be totally useless.

Out and About

Last night we went for a nice dinner to celebrate my husband's birthday. Actually, his birthday was on Sunday, but he had to pay for his own dinner on Sunday because earlier that day I left my debit card at the tequila place. These things happen.

Then we came home and watched an episode of Nurse Jackie. (We're in the second season. I am just so sure that Kevin knows about Eddie.)

Also, no word from the campers that are off with the landscaper. I trust everything is okay.

and the kitchen sink

1. I got an email that my yahoo account was compromised. Last month my bank account was compromised. I have different super stealthy passwords for both.

2. The guy from Weeds lost his cred when he showed up in a Brittney Spears video. I grow tired of Weeds. I liked the first season, the second was okay, and now we just watch because we have time invested in it. Right now I am obsessed with Nurse Jackie.

3. I am almost done redlining The Franchise real estate lease to add the broker's comments. We heard that the Mother Ship gets a kickback on the high-end, overly expensive equipment we have to buy.

Child Care

Overheard while dropping my son off at his school for sleep-away camp . . .

"Who is taking us on our trip?"
"You know the guy that does the landscaping?"

I'm fairly certain that I have seen episodes of 20/20 that begin this way. Part of my panics. However. (1) We don't want to be politically incorrect and reach a snap judgment about the landscape guy or anybody in the landscaping industry. (2) Any further time spent at drop off and I will have to get my latte prior to my 9:30 call rather than after.

Fingers crossed!

What's My Thing, I Wonder?

Kate (that is, Ms. William), her thing is that she doesn't blend her eyeliner. My one friend wears lots of faux diamonds and thinks that people think they are real but really everybody knows they are fake. I have another friend that tells the same stories - long stories - over and over and over again. I must have a thing that is relatively annoying that people notice but don't tell me. I wonder what it is.

I Miss You!

I really do. I miss typing here, and I miss reading my favorite blogs.

And Hi Blogher! I know that I owe you some paperwork.

There are weeds in my yard that have now rightfully gained the status of landscaping.

I have been reviewing an 80 page lease for the Franchise. Eighty pages. What? Now, granted, I am not a real estate attorney, but I have reviewed some commercial leases in my day. Never have they been 80 pages.

Also, I am preparing for a business trip this week that I got assigned to at 4:30 p.m. last Friday.

Best of all, I got a surprise Friday night with my son. Normally he is with his dad on Fridays but dad and girlfriend went to the Chris Isaak concert. (Note to girlfriend: I happen to know that the entirety of Forever Blue reminds him of me.)

Anyway, my son and I went to the mall and I got new running shoes, he got obnoxiously overpriced clothes from crewcuts that he picked out and loves, and then we went for sushi. I really like his company. Plus he is a snazzy dresser.

I wish I could tell you where I was going on my business trip because its kind of fun, even though I am not there for fun. I have a night to myself to wander. Oh, and read the Exhibits H-ZZ of the lease.

My New Favorite Ski Town

That, down there

is Steamboat, viewed from the ass-kicking hike my husband made me go on before he would buy me a hamburger. And do you know what? After climbing two miles at a 90 or so degree incline for two hours in 100 degree heat I DIDN'T EVEN WANT THE HAMBURGER anymore; rather, I thought about perhaps barfing. And I'm a fit person. Also, my husband doesn't really make me exercise before he'll buy me food. He's just all oh look how cute you are climbing this mountain while breathing heavily while I manly man leap rock by rock over it then run back down to get you water then run back up to deliver it to you - you, you have earned a hamburger my dear. Or something along those lines as all I really remember is that I was hot and tired and making a note to my future self that when my husband says "let's go on a hike" I should say "define hike." As hike does not equal climb. Very different.

Anyhoo. That little town in the distance? Three places with tortilla soup and margaritas on one street. On one street. Brilliant.

In a few hours

I will be here in a few hours! A long weekend with no kids. Just nail polish, magazines, downloads, tennis racket, cafes and husband.