Anniversary

This last Sunday, J and I celebrated the 14th anniversary of our first wedding. I realize that the previous sentence is a touch confusing. You see, J and I actually had two weddings. The first one was with a JP and our mothers witnessing. We had quick vows, exchanged rings, filled out the paperwork, then headed out for a dinner before driving off to a theme park for our "honeymoon". I was twenty, and couldn't even legally drink the celebratory glass of champagne at my own wedding. I did, but don't tell anyone ;)

The second one was the one we spent over two years saving up. This was the traditional wedding with flower girls, ushers, and a big frou frou wedding dress. It was a year later, and most of our extended family think that this was the real wedding. But it wasn't. To us, it was more like a big party celebrating our love again with everyone.

Why we decided to tie the knot twice doesn't really matter. Suffice to say it was not for any major reason. I wasn't knocked up, and it was purely by choice.

So this weekend marked 14 years of our very first wedding. And of course J was sick, along with Ashe. We stayed home and didn't do much aside from a special dinner the two of us had after the boys went to bed. It was almost a typical day. However, I had a conversation with Ashe that really made me focus on something very special.

While Ashe was feverish, he and I headed upstairs to cuddle while we waited for the medication to kick in. We talked about his favorite  games, and how he wants to build his own games for kids when he grows up. And somehow we got to talking about family. He casually mentioned how Grammy was my mom so that meant Grampa was my dad....only he isn't. So I had to explain the intricacies of remarriage and family bonds can sometimes be tighter with love than blood. And then he asked what happened to my father.

"Well", I paused, not wanting to get into the gritty details, "sometimes husbands and wives decide to divorce."
"What does divorce mean?"
And it's at that point in time when I realize how lucky my kids are, if they don't even know what that word means at almost seven tears of age.

Growing up, divorce was a big part of my life. My parents separated when I was three, and divorced when I was four. It was NOT a good divorce either. It was messy, and scary, and long lasting. As I aged, most of my friends parents had also divorced. It was rare to find a peer whose parents were still together and happy.

So to see my child completely ignorant in the word and meaning.... it really hit home to me.

Some people may say that J and I married too young. And I will acknowledge that many of the marriages of very young adults do tend to end up in divorce. Many people are not mature enough at that age to make such a life changing decision.

And yet I would say that looking back, even at age twenty, I knew exactly what I wanted in my life partner, and J fit the bill and then some. Both of us came from homes that were rough. Both of us felt that FAMILY was of the utmost importance. And both of us desperately wanted to give our future children a home filled with love and laughter, done as a team.

That's exactly what we did. The road hasn't always been easy. It was filled with potholes, detours, and sometimes dead ends where we had to backtrack. But we worked together as a team to build our dreams, and we continue to do so.

When my child asks me what Divorce means on our anniversary, I know that despite our young age when we made our vows, we did know what we were doing that day so long ago. And here in the present, we are still as much in love if not more so, stronger as a partnership, and building a beautiful foundation to our children's lives.

That night, as J and I sat down to a quiet dinner alone, I thanked him for choosing me. And he looked into my eyes and said "no, thank you!" And we smiled and basked in the understanding that we do complete one another, and make the best team.

Happy anniversary Babes. I can't wait to see what the next 14 years bring.

Hey Gamer Guys, We Need To /Chat

Men, I think it's time to pull up some chairs and we have a serious heart to heart. Because the kind of  shit I'm blogging about today has been going on for too damn long.

For those of you who know me, either in the real world, gamer world, or just through my blogs, you guys know that, while I rebel against societies restrictions on "moms", I am not a part of the feminist movement where I remove my bra, burn it, and think all men on the planet suck. In fact, I like guys a lot. Most of my besties are males, and have been since I was a tiny tot. I can relate much more easily to men than I do to women. I've always been this way, and maybe it has been a part of why I have always enjoyed gaming. I get the same sort of euphoria when I rock out a raid with my fellow guildies and we take down that mother fucking boss for the first time. However, I do believe that we guys and gals are equal, and should be portrayed as such. While men and women are different, I'd like to think that evolution created us this way so that we compliment one another. Where one's weakness lay, the other picks up, and vice versa.

That doesn't mean that because we females may not generally be physically as strong as men, doing Strong Man contests and shit, that we are weak. In fact, anyone who has witnessed a female dealing with almost ten months of carrying around a child in her body then forcing a full fledged mini human into the world via her girly bits would laugh outright at such a ludicrous thought.

And yet...

Usually news stories don't bother me enough to post about it. But this one does. And while it is not as important in the real world compared to

• unequal pay in the workforce, or 
• how last week, the MS gov. came out and blamed working women for the poor educational performance of today's youth because they don't stay home to raise their children, 
• or how a social studies teacher told graduating female students to "Stay home and...that your greatest role in your life will be that of wife and mother."

this discussion with you is related all the same. And while other women out there are fighting for the causes above, I realized today as both a female *and* a gamer, that this is a platform I do need to fight for.

So here is what I saw today, while catching up on Current Events:

http://www.forbes.com/sites/jordanshapiro/2013/06/11/e3-inspires-woman-bashing-on-twitter/

Misogynist gamers are at it again, attacking Anita Saarkesian for making a simple observation. Perhaps all the excitement at E3 has made their thumbs twitchy. There’s nothing particularly surprising here. Hopped up on adrenaline and “fiero,” they invoke the patriarchal battle-cry.  Of course, Saarkesian is the easy scapegoat. She has been for some time, the villain in social media’s version of a juvenile battle between the sexes. The tweet:
Thanks #XboxOne #E3 press conference for revealing to us exactly zero games featuring a female protagonist for the next generation.
— Feminist Frequency (@femfreq) June 10, 2013Saarkesian, as usual, was met with an onslaught of misogynist attack.
Some of the antagonist responses are so offensive, crude, sexist, and disgusting that I’d rather not post them here. Visit Saarkesian’s Tumblr to see her screen captures of some of the worst.
Apparently, “women don’t belong in video games” and “in general, men are better at battle rolls [sic] and other battle type stuff.”
Worse: “What did you expect? Cooking and cleaning games at console launch reveal?” and “maybe if women were more interesting and capable at life there might be more female led games, like super floral arranger.”

********

I took a look at the tweets that was creating this firestorm. I recognize, fellas, that many of these, if not all, are trolls. But that's not the point, and I'll get to that in a bit. For now, I just want to show you some of the tweets that really pissed me off (and frankly, should piss you off as well):

Now guys, what I want you to do is this this. First, I want you to go back and reread those tweets. Read them very carefully. And while you do, I want you to picture yourself in the shoes of a woman who loves to game just as much as you do. I want you to think of a female friend. A guildie. A wife. Sister. Cousin. Someone you may know who loves the same types of games that you do, but does not have a penis.

I'll let you be for a moment while you do this.

Now if you come back and say "Hey SRM! I don't know any female gamers" I say to you Bullshit. Absolutely, without a doubt, bullshit. Because here's the deal guys. There was a study done that just came out and the numbers say it all.

http://gamepolitics.com/2013/06/11/esa-report-women-comprise-nearly-half-gamer-population#.UbfHz3XD_X4

The Entertainment Software Association released its report, "2013 Essential Facts About the Computer and Video Game Industry" on the official opening day of the Electronic Entertainment Expo in Los Angeles. The ESA represents the video games industry, operates the E3 Expo trade show, and owns the ESRB, in case you didn't know.According to the freshly released report, adult women represent a significant percentage of the video game-playing population than boys age 17 or younger. Nearly half of all video game players are women, according to the report. Women make up 31 percent of the video game-playing population, while boys 17 and under represent only 19 percent of game players. Women are 45 percent of the entire game playing population and 46 percent of the time are the most frequent game purchasers.

*******

I really wanted to make sure that last paragraph caught your attention. Because that is extremely important, men. Nearly HALF of the gamers out there are female. 45% of gamers have a vagina. 45%. Vagina. Female. Your wife, sister, mother, daughter, cousin, friend, next door neighbor.... this stat needs to be slammed into all gamers heads again and again until any gamer could type it with their eyes blindfolded.


We femme gamers haven't just all of a sudden popped out of the woodwork screaming "EQUAL RIGHTS, BITCH!" Some of us have been here since the beginning. Our population may have grown over the years to become the 45% population that it is today, but gaming is not a man only universe, nor has it ever been. You guildies of mine know that I have been rocking the MMORPG scene since EverQuest pretty much launched!

We have been around! And our numbers are growing. We are with you guys, learning the moves, the stats, the rotations, cooldowns. We femmes are right along side you males, working as a team, staying up late at night to go over and over and OVER a fight, wiping until it all clicks and we take that boss down. We're right there with you on Ventrillo or TeamSpeak, screaming VICTORY IS OURS, FUCK YA!

We femmes are there, doing that daily rep grind, reading the forums to better ourselves, spending hours at the dummies, fine tuning our spec, our buttons, our parse.


We're right there with you! And yet...

• How many of you have watched gen chat and seen the phrase "There are no girls in MMO's" bandied about?

• How many of  you have seen in chat or forums, once a girl gamer speaks up, that others tell her to "get back in the kitchen" or "it must be her time of the month"?

• How many of you have been reading through gaming forums for info, only to stumble upon a girl bashing thread?

• How many of you have seen femmes kicked out/ refused entry to guilds/groups/raids because they are female?

How many of you have spoken up on our behalf?

As a female gamer who has almost 15 years experience of gaming ( not including console games... if I added that in we're talking 25 years experience) I could yell and curse, and bitch about this issue. But you know what guys? It won't do much good. Specifically because of the fact that I *am* female. My voice won't matter. It won't change a thing. But, your voice can. As a male gamer, you have the POWER to stand up to asshats like those who tweet the crap like above. You have the POWER to denounce sexist idiots in gen chat. You have the POWER to stand up for your wife/sister/friend and say "this is fucking bullshit, and we men will not tolerate our femme gamers being stomped on".



Because this is one part where you men have more power right now than we femmes do. We will get there, don't think we won't. But right now, RIGHT NOW, we need you: our husbands, our brothers, our friends, our guildies. We femmes, who work side by side with you in the multi-virtual universes... we need some heroes. Because we will continue to game. And we will continue to kick pixelated ass. And we will continue to push back at the sexist prepubescent trolls who think they are a manly man when they put women gamers down.




But we also know, that without real men standing up and letting it be known that this type of behavior is reprehensible, nothing will change. And frankly, I think it's time it did. Don't you?

From one gamer to another, 

J's New Look

Over the past several months, J has not been happy with his hair. As he grows older, it has started to thin. He's not balding, but with his already fine light hair, any thinning causes him concern.

And so J has grown unhappy.

We have been trying out different hair styles over time, trying to find one that makes J happy. We have tried styling it forward. That looked good, but J constantly complained of it getting in his eyes. We tried styling it to the side. We tried combing it back. Growing it long. Short. Buzzed.

And still J wasn't happy. He says that he would be happy with a mullet, but as the stylist in the family I put my foot down. He can have a mullet if he wants one, but he also knows that the couch will be his bed if he does so.

Last weekend he told me that he was going to surprise me by giving himself and all three boys mohawks. When I asked why this didn't occur, he sheepishly replied that only Xavier was on board with the idea.

This weekend I found him browsing through hairstyles for men, but he was growing frustrated because every guy had cuts that, in his mind, sucked. J doesn't want something normal. Nope. J said that he thinks he is going through a mid life crisis and wants something cool. Like a top knot. But every time he googled top knot only women with hair buns came up. He did not want a bun. He did not have enough hair to make a bun.

"I want something cool, like Ragnar."

Ragnar Lothbrook from History Channel "Vikings"

"Ragnar, huh?" I looked over his hair, judging length on top for the rows he'd need. "You will need to grow out the top of your hair a little, but we could start it." And I'm thinking to myself, 'Hell of a better idea than a freaking top knot or mullet.'

So I grab my comb, water bottle, and ask Xavier to grab me my little elastic bands, and get to work. It's been a long time since I've done rows in anyone's hair and it took me awhile to relearn. But I finally got the hang of it and within 30 minutes, I had five rows.

Looking at him from every angle, I decided five was too many. I took two out. Next, J grabbed the buzzer and, without a guard, I shaved everything else off, down to peach fuzz scalp.

I will admit, when we first started with this idea, I wasn't sure if J could pull the look off. Not every man can pull off such a daring style, and when shaved head comes to mind, I always cringe at the possibilities of a lumpy head. But despite my initial misgivings, I had to admit, J really rocked the Viking look:

J's new Viking hair

 

 

 

We did decide that his glasses don't really mesh with his new look. So J will be heading off to the optometrist soon to get new contacts. J is really digging the look and is already talking about getting a Viking woad tattooed on his scalp. We'll see. And of course, will post pics if he does.


So what do you guys think?

Diet Diary: Week One

 

Like the multitude of ants I kill trying to infiltrate my house for sustenance, I find myself constantly trying to find a solution to my weight. Now knowing that I have hypothyroidism, I at least have a sense of peace as to why I gained so much weight so quickly. That does not mean I have to lie down and accept that my pant size has grown by three sizes. Oh hell no, I refuse to go down ( or up ) without a fight.

I've tried cutting calories. No go. I've tried a liquid diet. Nothing. I've tried intense workouts five times a week. While my stamina is much better and I can Zumba anyones pants off, my scale still laughs at me. Bastard. I've tried a bunch of things that haven't worked, even with my new thyroid medicine ( granted its still new and I'm sure will need adjusting at some level, but I'm an impatient bitch).

But recently I found something new that actually seems medically logical to work. I'm not here to advertise it, so if you want more info, you can email me. But the logic behind this plan seems, well, logical. It's a plan that combines a lot of things both J and I have heard over the years to help with healthy weight loss and a healthy lifestyle all wrapped into one.

Essentially, it states that most of the food we eat nowadays is filled with high fructose corn syrup, and other fatty things, that are hard for your liver and colon to digest. Because of this, over time, your body stores a lot of fat that it can't deal with, because the liver and colon start to get clogged and can't keep up. Or something like that. Bear with me, I'm working on the barest of caffeine here.

So in order to effectively lose weight and get healthy, you have to clean out your liver and colon first.  Once that is done, you then work on eating organic foods, or foods without the additives, with cheat days built in so you can still eat yummy, fat inducing foods once in awhile.

There are three phases: raw diet, cleanse, and undiet. Phase one takes two weeks. Phase two will take three days, and phase three is for six months, or however longer you wish to continue.


This is a seriously hardcore, life changing thing to try, so J was kind enough to do it with me. Without him, I probably would have fallen off the bandwagon after day one. It involves multiple trips to the health food stores, trying new things, and being mentally strong enough to not nibble at the boys hamburgers while we sit there and crunch on radishes.

I waited to blog about this until we had gotten halfway through Phase One to see if it was something we could stick with, and if it was even worth blogging about. We hit our halfway mark this morning with decent results ( and no cheating!!!) so here is what we've been doing.

Phase One is a vegan raw diet, only we can not have grains of any kind. All we are allowed to eat for two weeks are organic veggies, fruits, nuts, and cooked beans from scratch. No dairy, no grains, nothing cooked ( except our beans ). No coffee, no alcohol, no salad dressing, unless we concoct our own using the only two oils allowed, extra virgin olive, and coconut oil.

We can eat as much as we want of these things, while drinking water and herbal tea. It sounds simple.  It is simple. But after the excitement of trying something new wears off, roughly five hours and your stomach is yelling at you, it gets boring. REALLY boring. Despite the plethora of fruits and veggies out there, there is only so much you can do with them without using your stove. I love love love asparagus on a regular day, but I refuse to eat them raw. And broccoli without dressing dip? Thanks, but I'm all set. For the last few days I've been living off clementines, walnuts, spinach leaves, and beans. Breakfast? Usually a cup of beans with a touch of garlic powder and pepper, a water bottle of filtered water, nuts, and a teeny tiny clementine. You know, the ones you feed to dolls when you play house.  Lunch is a salad with homemade dressing. Dinner is a handful of apricots, maybe some beans thrown in if I'm starving.


It's not pretty folks.

It's a war tactic to force your body into shock, while at the same time trying to rewire your brain into the belief that 14 bean soup is as yummy as your chocolate stash when you have Aunt Flo coming to visit in the next day or two. Waterboarding has nothing on this diet in regards to torture.


The first four days were excruciating. All I fantasized about was fried chicken, and I dreamt of cheeseburgers floating into my mouth, while fries danced on the sidelines, whipping their starched hair in fountains of soda. The headaches from lack of caffeine were killer, as was my mood. I had zero tolerance for rough housing mornings without my cup of coffee. But the worst was when we went to a Trunk or Treat and our favorite, mouth watering butcher shop was there, offering freebies of the steak tips my whole family would kill over. Right off the fucking grill. It was devastating to watch the boys down their juicy tender hunks of perfectly grilled meat and we couldn't even have a nibble. It took all the will power we parental units had to not cheat and quietly scarf that last piece of perfect beef that Soren decided he didn't want to finish.

However, I knew I hit a mental mile mark the other day, as I was cooking up Hamburger Helper for the boys. As I started browning the meat, I noticed my nose wrinkling at the smell wafting towards me. By the time I was stirring the faux cheese and milk into noodles and burger, I was quite nauseous. I came to the conclusion, as I stood there, arms out as far as I could go and still stir the concoction, that I would probably never view Hamburger Helper the same way again, let alone eat it. The situation reminded me of when I was pregnant and couldn't deal with certain odors.

And the other bonus was that I got to measure myself last night, after a week of food hell, and lost both an inch in my waist and chest, but also five pounds. Not too shabby for only a week. It was at least enough incentive for me to continue on this journey.

I'll keep an update going on my progress. I've got one more week on this raw diet before I do the next phase: The Cleanse.


 Ooof.

My Beaver

I have a beaver. Lately it has become the hot topic of discussion within my gaming community. In the past two weeks I have taken part in multiple Q&As about my beaver. I didn't even know there could be so many questions or comments about this single subject.

I was going to write a blog about my beaver, but every time I started I couldn't stop laughing and had to put it on the back burner. But then I realized this blog already wrote itself through the comments of my fellow gamers. Im going to do something a little different and post some of the questions I have had to answer over the past two weeks, along with my answers.


Is your beaver big?
Yes.

Is your beaver brown?
Yes

So you have a big brown beaver?
Yes, I have a big brown beaver

Is your beaver shaved?
Oh no! My beaver has its own natural pelt.

Do you pet your beaver?
Sometimes. It makes my beaver happy to be petted, so long as you pet it appropriately. My beaver does not like it when you pet against the grain of her pelt.

So other people can pet your beaver?
My beaver will let others let her if they play nice.

Have you mastered your beaver?
I'm pretty sure that my beaver has a few more tricks to learn.

Has your beaver ever tangled with other beavers?
My beaver has once or twice. However, while some beavers like to tangle, it just didn't feel right for me and my beaver. Now snakes are another matter. We love to tangle with snakes. The bigger the better.

Does your beaver make noises?
When my beaver is happy she squeaks.

Do you like pulling out your beaver?
I do! I always get a big smile on my face when I pull out my beaver!

Is your beaver shy?
Nope. My beaver loves attention.

Where did you find your beaver?
I found her playing by the river in Nektulous Forrest...........

















Dirty dirty minds, the lot of you! What did you THINK I was talking about????  Let's get your heads out of the gutter. C'mon now, up you go. Grab a towel and rub that filth off. Now, to clarify, this is me and my beaver:

In my game, EQ2, there has been a new class added not that long ago, called a Beastlord. I decided to try one out, as I loved the Hunters from WoW and its very similair. Like the Hunter in WoW, a beastlord can tame many wild animals throughout the land of Norrath. I also have a wolf, a hawk, and a cow named Bessie. But ahhh, the beaver! As a female gamer ( a minority, I assure you) with a dirty mind and sick sense of humor, when I came across this animal while riding through the woods, I of course, had to have it. My first thought was "OH! The possibilities of raunchy jokes are endless!" Thus, my beaver was tamed, and has since been the best conversation starter in game as I am surrounded by guys whose middle school potty humor mentality is forefront. And I, one of the few femmes in the group, can put most of them to shame.

Poor J has been a trooper as many of our guy friends ask about my beaver. He has gone with the flow though, finding the humor in it, and will affirm that yes, I have a big brown beaver thats quite playful ;)

Gamers Pet Peeves

I haven't done a gaming blog in a long time. But I have been gaming a lot over on EQ2, and since our guild has decreased in size due to everyone playing different games at the moment, those of us who are around have joined an alliance of other guilds to raid. It's a completely different experience for me, not knowing everyone well on the team, not knowing if I can trust them to play their role as I do the best I can with my own. It's like being a nervous virgin every raid night, not knowing if you're going to have a great experience and love sex, or if it's going to scar you the next time you find a willing partner.

 I'm going to readily admit that I'm a raiding snob. I can't help it. I was taught to raid with some of the best players. I was taught to put my all into it, to have fun, but to also improve myself. I was taught to kick pixellated ass, the tougher the better. And if you make the same damn mistakes because you're too lazy to care, you're going to chewed out, and not in the pleasurable way. Because your team relies on you. You have between ten and twenty five other people relying on your ability to work as a team in moments of stress.

I'm also a DPS whore. I don't care if I don't play a pure DPS class, I will do my job AND try to kick your ass in numbers. And nothing makes me more happy than to leave others who play the same class as I do in the dust. I'm a competitive bitch and I like it that way.

That said, there are a few things that make me want to turn my virtual daggers away from the boss we're killing and turn it on my raidmates. And with a bunch of people I don't know, I've noticed those tendencies seem to come out a little more often than normal. I've been fortunate enough to have my core group on hand to gripe with when we see piss poor stuff and wipe due to it. And I can't complain too much. It could always be worse. I could be not raiding. I could be dealing with an asshole raid leader. Hell, I could be Raid Leader myself.... *gulp*

But since this is my blog and I can get away with it, here is a list of gaming pet peeves that make me want to go virtually homicidal (where, by the way, it's actually legal in my game). I should also ammend that this raiding rant is NOT just for the new raiding folks. These are my pet peeves all the time. I'm just writing about them now because it all comes to the forefront whe dealing with a new situation.:

Not knowing how to play your class-
When you sign up to raid with other people, you are silently claiming that you know the class you play, and you play it well. You know what all of those little buttons do, you know how to assist the main tank, and you know what your role in a raid is. And if you don't know, you ask before the raid starts up, for clarification.

You DON'T target random mobs and shoot an arrow, causing 50 hungry looking monsters to descend upon us without knowledge, as the rest of us try to take down the two monsters that were pulled by the main tank. You DON'T let your group buddies die horrible agonizing deaths time and again because you're a healer and you HAVE to heal the main tank and only the main tank. Unless you are IN the main tank group, THAT'S NOT YOUR JOB! That's the other two healers jobs who are IN that group! On the flip side, for DPS folks, you DON'T target any mob in the fight that you please. this leads to anal bleeding (yours) which causes your death which makes me have to stop and Rez your ass, thus losing my DPS zone. You being an idiot should not have to make me deal with your inadequacy issues.

Don't talk to the new people as if they're idiots right off the bat-

Now I'll grant you that I and my fellow guides are new to this particular scene. But trust me when I say, after months of raiding in this setting, that in almost all cases, we probably know more about raiding and our roles in it than 90% of the raid force. Or for more general circumstances, if you're new to OUR raid force, the same applies. Do yourself a favor and don't send nasty grams our way, asking if we know what this buff or that buff does. Or ask us if we actually cast our procs that make you look good. Cause you're going to get sarcastic answers right back. If you actually ask me if I cast buff A I'm going to purposely look like a hillbilly, adopt bad grammar, and ask you "isn't that a tank thing? I'm just a lowly scout!" and the I'm going to watch you flip out. With popcorn.

Dumbass.

On the same note, don't act passive aggressive in group chat trying to make some of us look like idiots. Because we're not. And we may know some tricks up our sleeves that never occurred to you. And that main tank over there? Yeah, we've raided with him for years when he was a guildie of ours and he will (and did) tell you he would trust us to keep his ass alive better than anyone else on the team. Cause we've proven ourselves before. We might be new to THIS team, but we're not noobs.

Don't tell someone how to play their class when you don't play it either-

I think this one is pretty obvious. I don't tell a healer how to heal. I don't tell an assassin how to backstab. Don't tell me how to be a dirge if you're not raiding as a dirge. And don't tell me how to play my dirge when I'm above you by an average of 60k damage per fight and rezzing at the same time.

If you make a mistake and we wipe, that's ok. But not if it's the fourth time over the same damn mistake. Learn from your mistakes. We only have 3 hours to get through the raid and get phat loots.

Keep chatting for mid pulls-
Don't send me tells when we're in the middle of a boss fight unless it's an emergency. I don't care what song you're listening to. I don't care that you had a funny thought and wanted to share. I don't care that you want to know if I'm going to cast that awesome buff that makes you look like a god. You should know by now that I will cast it when the time is right and not on your say so. I don't care if you're on your fifth beer and you want me to know how freaking drunk you are. Trust me, I already know.

And if it's really important that I need to know how drunk you are, wait until the boss is down or we are.

Don't cast the same proc as I do five seconds after when it lasts for 17. We both hear when the other person casts it. Im paying attention to when you cast yours so that we get maximum usage out of the proc. Grant me the same respect. Otherwise it's totally pointless. And by the way, I can assure you that I am not the only to notice this situation. We've actually created a drinking game for every time it happens. Needless to say, each raid night finishes with us being pretty damn inebriated.

Now I love me some raiding, especially with good friends and competent raid leaders. And I will say that even though I have my peeves, I have been having a grand time. I've made some pretty cool new friends, I have my inside jokes with old friends, and I enjoy taking down a new boss with my team mates. Let's keep it up. Just stop sending me stupid tells when I'm trying to keep your ass alive, mmmkay? ;)

Can't Get It Out Of My Head

As I'm writing this, I'm listening to the song "Carry On My Wayward Son" by Kansas over and over. I'm being haunted by this song and now it's like a drug, I have to listen to it.

It all started when I was perusing Netflix awhile back and found a show called Supernatural. J and I had heard about it but as we usually don't watch much tv, we never checked it out.  I found myself twiddling my thumbs one day and decided to check it out on my kindle. I was hooked. Two sexy brothers fighting monsters and dealing with heavy topics. Oh yeah.

This show has seven seasons, six of which were on Netflix. So I sat. And watched. Every season. In a matter of a month. I even bought season seven on Amazon so I could catch up. And on every single seasons finale they would play this song. So it stuck with me.

    (Season one finale. I didn't want to post later versions in case you decided to check out the show)

Then I went to my friends wedding in Long Island a few weeks ago, and as I was walking out of JFK, overhead I realized that music was playing and wouldn't you know it? Carry On was playing overhead. Since I was away from my show I decided to download the song on my phone in case I started jonesing. J thought I was a freak, but it made me happy.

And that night, as we partied with the bride and groom, singing karaoke, someone picked that song to sing. Out of all the songs available.

So now, I am going to make this my current theme song. Cause look, I cant get the damn thing out of my head. It just is. And every time I hear it I think of those two sexy guys kicking major ass and it gives me warm fuzzies =)

Ponies and Centaurs

I'm told often by J that (and I paraphrase here) that I'm a freak of nature because I dream vividly and often. I love to sleep because almost every night I can guarantee that I will be more entertained than I could on Netflix. I dream in color, sound, scent, and touch. Sometimes I watch my dreams like a movie. Other times I'm the main character, and surrounded by a world that feels as real as this one. And I remember them clearly more often than not.

I've been told most people don't dream like this. I kind of feel bad for anyone who doesn't. On the flip side, I will say that I do wake up pretty damn tired almost every morning though, especially if I was the main character in said dream.

Random conversation about some of my dreams between J and me the other night as we're drifting off to sleep:

Me:  So the past two nights I've been dreaming about horses. I think my subconscious is trying to tell me I want a pony
 J: (snorts) oh yeah?
Me: Well, not really. Ponies are assholes. But a horse would be super awesome.
J: Horses are not happening in the near future. How about instead you get a centaur
Me:..... You think a horse isn't happening, but you want me to get a centaur? A mythical being?
J: Sure!
Me: You realize that centaurs are notorious for being big into sexuality, right?
J: So?
Me: So you're telling me that you would rather me jump on the back of a half horse, half man, who is legendary for their sexual prowess?
J: Who said anything about the centaur being male? Get a female centaur.
Me: But then I'd have to wrap my arms around her boobs. And that's just awkward.
J: I would think boobs would be better to hold on to than pecs. More fluff to hold on to
Me: I don't want a female centaur! Can't I just have a horse?
J: Nope
Me: sigh

Broken

Have you ever noticed that when one thing breaks, you can pretty much guarantee that about half of your other stuff is going to follow suit? Or is this just us?

So after wedding #1, we came home to 90 degree days and no air conditioning. If you've never had the pleasure, go put your oven on broil, keep the door open, shut all the windows, place your laptop nearby after it's been running for 5 hours, and put your face between both for about 30 minutes.

Yeah, it's awesome.

I spent my entire birthday lying on the floor, waving a book back and forth trying to keep cool, while I waited for the maintenance guy to show up. Of course he didn't show up until 6:30 in the evening. Bastard.

It lasted a week, then broke again.

On top of that my tooth broke. I was gaming one night when I felt it crumble. It didn't hurt (yay for that tooth being mostly a filling) but I had no dental insurance that had kicked in yet. So off to the dentist to figure out what had to be done. Turns out I needed a crown.

$1400 and four weeks later, I got my shiny new tooth.


Finally, my car decided it needed an overhaul. We got a flat tire and went to get it replaced. Come to find out all of my tires needed desperate replacement. And then I went to get it inspected. Five minutes before I reached the inspection site, my check engine light came on. So I went to find out what was wrong.

$1300 later I have four new tires, and new hoses in my car.

All I could think of was that I am so glad when J got his bonus in the winter I put my foot down and had him save it for emergency things like this. And that my time for emergencies had better be over with for the year.

Fingers crossed

Till Death Do Us Part

The other day we were driving through rural North Carolina. The one thing that stands out to me around here versus back north is that in the rural areas there are a lot of private family cemeteries. You can find them everywhere: in the middle of fields, in the side of the forest, in someones front yard.

As we drove along, passing multiple graveyards, J turns to me and starts us down the path of an odd conversation.

J: Have you ever thought about where we should be buried when we die? Do you have a preference?
Me: Well, we live here now. I don't really have any ties back in Massachusetts, so somewhere here.
J: Yeah, I feel the same way.
Me: I just don't want to be buried on one of those cemeteries where you have to have a flat stone. When I go out, I want my rock big and badass!
J: You still want the dragon headstone?
Me: Hell yeah! I want my giant dragon sleeping over my decaying corpse. And I want my epitaph to read "Still waiting for a rez". (Gamer joke)
J: That's going to cost a lot of cash, you know.
Me: Good thing you took out a big life insurance policy on me then, huh?
J: What about if your dragon is styrofoam. It would cost less. (I glare daggers at him) No?
Me: No. I want my rock to last. Tell you what. I've been thinking of going green. How about you forgo formaldahyde and all that jazz, wrap me up in a shroud and toss me in the ground under my big rock? You can use one of our spare bed sheets as a shroud. I'm fine with that.

We're silent for a bit, contemplating mortality and what it means. I realize then that J has never given me clear instructions on what he wants. I've always wanted my dragon headstone and made it crystal clear I would haunt J's ass if he didn't grant my last wish of a badass dragon headstone.

Me: So how about you. What do you want when you die? Cremation? Burial at sea? Want a badass dragon stone with me?
J: How about a burial at sea in a giant shoe?
Me: I could do that. How's your life insurance policy? Could it handle the expense?

Flaming shoe burial from movie "Passion of Darkly Noon"

J: I think it should cover it.
Me: I wonder if I'd need a special license to bury you a la flaming shoe?
J: Dunno. You think they have flaming shoe burial licenses?
Me: I highly doubt enough people want to go out via a flaming shoe to have a specific license for that.

We drive along for awhile. At one point, we pass by a taxidermist.

Me: That's it!
J: What?
Me: How about I get you taxidermied?
J:......
Me: yeah! And then I can have you wear that awesome viking hat you wore at the Museum of Natural history in New York!
J: I like my shoe idea better.
Me: Fine: I'll bury you in a flaming shoe. You just make sure you don't skimp out on my badass dragon headstone.
J: Deal.

Diet Update: Week One Complete

I promised last week that I would update on how my hardcore diet went, if I was good, if I cheated, and if it worked. So here I am, ready to spill it.

Let me preface by saying that I don't eat much in general. However, I learned this week that not eating at all, and only drinking shakes is very different. By day 2, when J heated up shrimp scampi, something I normally gag on when I smell it, I started drooling and dreaming of creamy shrimp. By day 6, as I boiled eggs for Easter egg coloring, I fantasized about eating them right out of the pot. Again, I normally don't like hard boiled eggs.

However, I did it. I stayed true to my diet of 1000 calories a day, mainly on shakes. Once in awhile if I found myself standing in front of the fridge, door open and gazing longingly at real food, I'd trade a shake in for something solid so long as it stayed within my limit and was healthy. This was to ensure I didn't break my diet and go crazy later. And it was smart, because I stayed true.

And on Sunday morning I weighed myself and lost over five pounds. It's a good start, and I'm happy with the progress. I realize most is probably water weight, and I can't expect such good results each week. But it's a beginning I can get behind.

The other positive change I noticed on Sunday was my appetite. I allowed myself to forgo shakes yesterday and ate when I was hungry. I celebrated with a chinese food dinner that evening and that's where I realized the most significant change: my stomach is shrinking. where before I could go for second helpings and have another plate later on at night, I found myself stuffed to the gills on a small plate, and stayed completely full until morning. Even when J heated up a plate of my favorite lo mein at 10pm, I had no cravings for more.

The last positive thing about this diet so far is that I have zero desire for chocolate. If anything, I feel chocolated out with all the shakes, something I never thought possible. While the boys feasted on three tons of chocolaty goodness yesterday, I only ate one tiny mini hershey's that was forced on me by Xavier, wanting to share his bounty. And I could barely swallow it. I only did so out of politeness.

Back to the week, I am going to try and continue this diet. I may add more actual meals in during lunch, courtesy of Lean cuisine, but still sick to my 1000 calories a day. I want to retrain my stomach to eat less in general, and keep my hunger for the day and not night time. I'll update next week!

Free Time Funk

If you’ve read my pages to learn more about me you know by now that I’m a gamer chick, and have been for a long time. J and I started years ago, BC. We were hooked into EverQuest, one of the first true MMORPGs. Since then we've played at EQ2, WoW, and Rift. Our longest stint has been at EQ2, where we met some amazing folks from a guild called Bane. We've been with them through many games for over seven years. The past 18 months we've been kicking pixellated butt on World of Warcraft.

Meiune, my alter ego on World of Warcraft.

 But for the past several months, I haven't been feeling the anticipation to play. It’s weird. J and I used to spend almost every night on the computers together, kicking pixilated ass as a team. I go through these bored phases once in awhile, but I usually find myself trying a new game. This time I couldn't be bothered for a good long time. The good thing about this is that I've been blogging more often.The bad news is that I am going through books like a dehydrated camel in the middle of July. It adds up.

Despite the lack of cable here, J and I decided to try and find some shows to get into. This has become another bad habit. We found Lost and went through all 6 seasons in 4 months. Each night I’d look at the clock after watching “just one more show” and it would be 3 AM. Waking up the next morning should have been a giant red flag warning to us to knock it the hell off. But sometimes we're just as bad as kids and refused to listen, even knowing we would totally regret it the following day. I've learned to hate birds chirping in the dawn hours.

If you haven't watched Lost, go get it. You'll thank me.

Then we had a month or so where we couldn’t find anything that either of us liked as much. Lost is hard to beat. But we did find Fringe and after the first few shows I was an addict. We’ve now caught up to current episodes and my impatience in having to wait once a week when I could watch four shows a night is like taking crack from an addict without warning. I find myself counting down the hours and minutes until the boys would go to sleep so I could watch my show.

I dream of alternate realities almost nightly due to this show.

I’ve also got a few other shows I can watch on Hulu that J either isn’t interested in or I would not want to watch with him owing to the fact that I couldn’t sit still and not giggle if he watched angsty vampires drooling over a female.

I would not be able to watch this with J in the same room. It's just awkward.

The past several months have been the longest where I didn't feel a pull to play. I still gamed twice a week for our raids, and I love catching up with my guildies. But I was finding myself logging off the instant a raid was done.

J and I started up a discussion a few weeks back about past games we played. We're still huge fans of anything EverQuest. The land created there feels like home away from home. But we decided to give Rift a try once more since it was so much newer. We lasted a week. And after finding myself yawn at WoW raids I bit the bullet and resubscribed to EQ2. While most Bane guildies are gone from the game, a few still exist, and we started catching up. And all of a sudden, I'm excited again. One thing EQ2 has that no other games has is player housing. You can create and decorate your own houses to your hearts content. While I'm not a domestic type of gal, I'll admit that I have a ball making aquariums out of light bulbs in the games.

Within a week of us rejoining many others have started to come back. Some have left again, while others stayed. We worked together as a team to recreate our guildhall, by gathering "money" in the pot to purchase items, or build them ourselves. And I must say we did a kick ass job.

But what's been great is the feeling of belonging again. Not that I didn't belong to my guildies in WoW or other games. But that feeling of coming home to a game I know so well, going through landscapes I've been running through for over ten years. And still finding things to do. THAT'S a huge thing for. because despite the fact this particular game has been out for years, there is always something to do. And I can't find that in other games.

So in the end, I have to say I am happy to have gone through this particularly hard gaming funk. Because while it sounds geeky, I finally came home to a place I missed without realizing it.  And maybe now, I can slow down on my book purchases. Cause J is getting a little snippy about the cost.

Weighty Issues Part 2

It’s been a month since I went in to get blood work done for my weight. I hadn’t heard back so I figured a month was long enough and called them this morning. The results is that everything is perfect. Perfect perfect perfect. Even my cholesterol is absolutely, beautifully perfect (take that J! Ican eat all the chips I want nyah nyah)

What does this mean? Well, for most people it means that a celebration is in order. I mean, who doesn’t want a perfectly clean bill of health, right? Except for the fact that no one can figure out why the hell I gained 30 pounds in three months for no reason at all.



The doctor wants to refer me out to a few places to see if we can figure anything out. I should be getting a number for an endocrinologist and a specialist that deals with integrated medicine. That’s basically someone who will help use both medicine and natural holistic stuff. I don’t know what they can do for me but I’ll give anything a try.

 Speaking of trying, I have noticed that my weight seems to have gone down slightly. I haven’t stepped on a scale lately, but my double chin is gone, my pants are fitting better, and my fingers don’t feel like puffy sausages. The weirdest thing about this new revelation? I stopped working out a few weeks ago and counting calories. In fact if I’m honest with myself, I’ve been trying to eat more. This gives my Jr.Mint diet theory a lot more weight. I may have to go back on it.



So still, no answers, no reasons, nothing. Nothing but perfect blood and still no answers to my dilemma. Which for me, really really sucks. I want answers.

I Sold Out

and joined Twitter. I swore I would never do that. I don't get Twitter. It doesn't make sense. What the hell is a hash tag? How do I search for cool Tweets that I want to follow? How do I reach out to YOU? It's like a PC user trying to figure out how to operate a Mac for the first time: awkward and slightly embarrassing. 

You think it should be pretty user friendly, but the reality is that Tweet Leet is a language all it's own. Kind of like your teenager's text messaging.

(Speaking of which, I saw the best Damn You Auto Correct txt the other day. The image below is exactly why I think it's REALLY important for ALL parental units to learn txt leet)



But since I've learned a lot about promotions over the past couple of years and I'm now trying to put those lessons into place here, Twitter was something I just (gulp) had to do. J thinks I'm making too big a deal about this, but that's coming from the guy who solely uses Twitter to catch up on Brandon Sanderson's tweets, along with baseball. I, on the other hand, am using it to connect with people who hopefully have a quirky sense of humor and need to find someone who also thinks of selling their precious snowflakes more than once a day. It's a whole 'nother ballgame.

So, my friends, I am trying this Twitter thing out. If you're a fellow Twit (gawd, is that what they call Twitter users? For that reason alone I'm groaning) I would love it if you clicked that cool little button on the top right corner of my blog and said hey to me. Feel free to offer tips so I don't toss my computer out the window in frustration. Throw me a bone, folks. Help a mother out.

I'm going to try and figure this whole tweet thing out, probably embarrass myself a few hundred times, and try to find some of you. And while I do that I think I'll listen to this song that has been stuck in my head ever since I pushed that "Create An Account" button

100!

I just got home from dinner with 14, yes 14 people: 6 adults and 8 small folks.(I'll blog about that later).  And as I popped online to read emails I saw this purty little thing that made my flipping day:

So, first off I just want to say to all my followers

and thanks for joining me on this crazy ride we call parenting! I appreciate you all taking the time to click that button and hopefully once in awhile reading how I am slowly losing my sanity!

For those of you who have also recently joined my Facebook Fan Page, thank you!!! I'm having a ball keeping that up. If you haven't joined, c'mon over and hit that little LIKE button on the top of the page. I keep that updated often with little things that make me happy, but are not big enough for a blog on it's own. However if you're not into sarcasm or you don't have a quirky sense of humor, it may not be for you. This blog may not be for you either....

And last, as we parents are wont to ram into our precious snowflakes skulls that SHARING IS NICE DAMMIT!!!!!, please, show your kids how well you share by sharing this blog with your friends and family ;) And if you don't I may have to send each of your kids a RedBull and a puppy ;)


Kiss kiss!

Good Times Dad

Long ago when I was new to the blogging community and had just created SRM, a fellow parental unit blogger reached out to me and commented on one of my stories. Feeling oh so excited that someone, SOMEONE actually read my blog, I clicked over to check out his own blog. And I've been hooked ever since.

I've read Good Times Dad over the years, laughing at his boys antics (often nodding my head in utter sympathy having been there myself and glad it wasn't me this time), GTD's responses, and even the entrance of his third child, The Rocket Queen.  Recently he had me chuckling when his wife left for a business trip. GTD had the sense of humor to create teeshirts for everyone with the quote "I survived Dadageddon 2012". It's stuff like this that keeps me coming back for more.

So why am I writing this? Well for a couple of reasons. For starters, if you love blogs, especially sarcastic blogs on parenting, it would be a disgrace if I didn't tell you about this one. If you like a sarcastic mom writing anecdotes about raising three kids, you'll like a sarcastic dad writing anecdotes about raising three kids. I also know I have some followers who are dads, and I think you guys would appreciate the perspective of Good Times Dad.

The other reason is because GTD and I are in discussion about doing some guest blogging together. So keep your eyes peeled on both blogs for some cool insights on subjects related to parenting.

So folks, do me a favor, and go check out his blog. Let him know SRM sent you and you demand to be entertained. Then pass on the word to any of your parental unit friends ;)

Wine Bottle Battle of 2012

I love me a glass of wine. Or three. I'm a huge red wine fan and if you come to my house you'll normally see about 4 bottles of red hanging out on my kitchen counter, waiting to be delved into and appreciated once the kids go to bed.

My friend Kelly knows this, and sweetheart that she is, she bought J & I a bottle of red for the holidays. The other night I decided to pop it open after a long day and relax with a glass of red and a good book. I grabbed our trusty cork screw, which had uncorked countless bottles over the years, and started the process.

I didn't know it at the time, but the cork was not actual cork. It was some kind of weird rubber material. And it bitch slapped my cork screw. when I say bitch slapped, what I really mean to say is that it dragged my poor tool into a dark alley corner and beat the shit out of it until it was in 4 pieces. Literally

The first handle snapped off when I tried, and it resulted in me bashing my knuckles hard on the counter. J came over to make sure I was alright, then took over. I told him I didn't need wine *that* badly. I could always grab some brandy or Vodka, but he wouldn't hear of it. "I will get this wine for you!" he declared, and went to battle.

And a battle it was, of epic proportions.

The second handle snapped when he made his first attempt. Then the screw itself snapped off when he tried to pull it out. That's when he pulled out the full armory: knives of assorted shapes and sizes, screw drivers, meat thermometer (ok that one was my idea), and the tool box. I jokingly asked if he wanted to try the electric drill. Deadpan, he told me he had already thought of it.

The situation was just so funny, I started posting regular updates on FB, along with snapshots of the battle. Towards the end, I had to record the final moments, and post it on youtube to share, because it was just so damn funny to see the lengths J would go to so I could have a glass of wine. This people, is true love. Screw flowers and jewels. When your husband pulls out the tool box in order to ensure his wife has alcohol, you know you found your soul mate.

Here is the video:

Three bent knives, one broken thermometer, a sliced knuckle, and 30 minutes later, J finally won as the cork gave up from the brutal torture it endured. After tending to wounds, burying the casualties (I had to trash my meat thermometer and knives), and cleaning up the battlefield, J and I sat down with 2 giant glasses of red, and celebrated the victory while playing Words With friends. While it didn't turn out to be the relaxing evening of wine and book that I had originally envisioned, it was a fantastic night of humor, to see how far one would go for love.... and alcohol ;)


P.S. Kelly, the wine was very good!