Excuse me. I am a sacred vessel, alright? All you've got in your stomach is Taco Bell.

So, I'm in Arkansas. I'm blogging on my mom's dinosaur of a computer waiting for my sisters to come up for Nat's birthday party. Then I can show off my extreme ability to suck worse than suck at Guitar Hero.

Dom and I got the super 3 pack that has Guitar Hero I, II, and Rocks the 80's for Christmas. Of course, that was when we had money before the property managers called to notify us of the major pipe leak in our front yard. Apparently, the new tenants moved into our house in SC just in time for the monsoon to take over our driveway. They're going to have to dig up the lawn--excuse me, canoe the swamp--to find some seal that blew up after turning on and off the water. Chances are, we won't be responsible for the bill because it's a city thing...but I'm also me and that wouldn't be nearly dramatic enough.

Every time I see the Goose Creek Property Management number come up on my phone my heart just sinks a little. That house is starting to remind me a lot of that Tom Hanks movie, The Money Pit. Nice fixer-upper? Ends up just crumbling into a big pile of wood and rusty nails. I'm not-so-secretly hoping that the renters fall asleep cooking a can of gasoline and we'll be done with it.

See, most landlords don't have to deal with a busted water main flooding the front yard before the earthquake hit. Yup, according to Yahoo news the epicenter was about 4 miles from Summerville. Which, would put it at about....oh...my FREAKING HOUSE! That was certainly more expletive but I deleted it because I'm at my parents' house. Probably shouldn't worry though since yesterday I said "fuck it" in front of my mom. She didn't even blink. I didn't think twice about it until later that night when it started playing over and over in my head as a WTF moment.

This is also the woman that came up with a code for us to tell each other to fuck off while I was in high school. There used to be a Taco Bell commercial that said "Now only 99 cents! That's almost a buck off!" Except, we wouldn't ever hear the whole commercial. So, flipping through the channels we'd just hear "fuck off." That's when we decided to just start saying "Yo quiero Taco Bell" when we were pissed at each other. Good times. My mom and I have had some blogworthy memories for sure.

Even if I'm the kinda gal who cusses out her mom and calls the sherrif's office for a pap smear, I did finally get my shopping done. Nice transition right? I'm a master. We wrapped them all, shipped them, or tucked them underneath the tree. And all without being mobbed at the mall! Although, at one point when we were out I had the who's gonna get the door faceoff. You know when your approaching the doorway at roughly the same speed as someone else and you don't want to run ahead and look like a douche? Or even worse slow down and make them get the door for you. It's probably the most awkard 3 seconds of any given 10. She got the door for me. I just stared at the floor and mumbled "thank you." But my property in another state is now eligible to become a protected marshland so the universe owes me a door opening now and then.

Racism was the new black.

Raise your hand if you were forced to have a conversation with a racist, old lady about "funny" names while getting the blood sucked out of your arm through a giant syringe. Just me, then?

I put Michael in daycare for a couple of hours today so that I could go get my bloodwork done and the flu shot I was supposed to get at my appointment last week. That meant a cranky Mommy left the house at 8 sans showering and coffee to drop off a screaming 1 year old to the poor daycare workers at the gym. Unfortunately, the extended care program doesn't start until 9 a.m. So I had to go to the nearest park and let him root around in the wet wood chips for half an hour.

Once I finally made it to the lab, there was a wonderfully talkative woman in her 70's to keep me company as the techs took, what felt like gallons, of my blood. She had a thing or two to say about "those funny names. Especially those black girls." Her technition happened to be black, but thought it was just fine to lump all of the people of the world with long or hard to pronounce names into the category of black, Mexican, or Chinese. Somebody even mentioned coming across this name "La-a," to be pronounced "Ladasha." The hypen is apparently no longer a silent article.

It made for an eventful morning. Now, I have around a bajillion kajillion things to do before we leave for the Xmas break tomorrow. That's just an estimate though--it could be more. First on the list is to fix up my playlist and burn some car music. But because I love you all, I decided to blog first. It's probably gonna be your last one for the next couple weeks. I might get a chance to update at the various stops along the tour of Arkansas and Mississippi, but we'll see.

I'm sure I'll have plenty of stories about my drunken karaoke endeavors at Christmas with my folks that I'll want to share as soon as possible. Speaking of which, Dom and I exchanged our gifts yesterday because we wanted a chance to have our own holiday before it got steamrolled by our collective family Christmases. Is that seriously the plural of Christmas? Anyway, Dom got me this:
and this to go with some of these and make me do this in front of my family.

I also got a tea set and a homemade coupon booklet good for services such as babysitting, laundry, cooking, and cleaning. It's a cute, romantic gift and I'm super stoked about using it! Now I can force him to do the dishes, take me shopping, or any of those other husbandly duties that were implied but not spoken in our wedding vows...without feeling guilty or overly naggy!