guess who's back, back again. fadkog's back, tell a friend
In the immortal words of the poet David Lee Roth, I heard you missed me! I'm back!
At least I hope most of you missed me. I'm not so sure about a couple of you who apparently used my absence to sneak away from subscribing to my blog. I know, I know. It's not you, it's me, yada, yada, yada. Was it that time I mentioned my kick ass rack that did it for you? Or maybe it was when I alluded to Tool Man offing me to collect my life insurance policy? Suffice to say, Tool Man didn't off me at all last week, my rack is still intact, and, oh yes, I missed you all like the desert misses the rain.
You're probably wondering how I had so much time to miss you all during my marvelous brokecation (Which, wow, let me just say time really does fly when you're having fun! Science? Cross that theory off your list!). Well, let me give you a little tip. When you and your beloved are discussing vacations and you then subsequently put in your time off request at work, make sure your beloved is aware that he (or she, but in this case he) is ALSO supposed to request time off. Both of you being free and unconstrained by this thing called life over the same period of days is really going to make your vacation a heck of a lot more conducive to things like family bonding if, in fact, family bonding is on the list of sights you want to check out (after you've shot down things like explore caves and visit the world's most boring museum on the list of suggested activities).
Because let's just say I found out last Monday morning that my Tool Man didn't ask for time off last week after all and for a moment or twenty, in my mind, I was totally pawing through our files of important papers to see just how much life insurance we took out on him last year and starting to watch reruns of CSI:It's Everywhere to determine if there's such a thing as the perfect crime. Alas, rest assured, I discovered the answers to my questions were (1) probably not enough and (2) apparently not. It's a good thing I'm not much into nature because seriously, for a couple of days, I wasn't a happy camper!
So onto the next thing on your list, which is wondering what I did all last week with my fantastic boys while we enjoyed our brokecation. The following is just a sampling of the fun we had:
- Enjoyed a delightful picnic and visited the zoo.
- Considered beginning adoption proceedings for the neighbor boy whose at my house constantly.
- Took the boys swimming most days. My favorite day was the one when a lady sat near me and pulled out her bible, bible study materials, bowed silently in a moment of prayer, then answered her cell phone and proceeded to scream obscenities to the person calling her. Amen.
- The preceding priceless moment was topped, however, the following day when, as I was leaving the library, I bore witness to a man standing under a shade tree across the street who had stripped down to a jock strap, and, because it seemed so shockingly urban for such a thing to be occurring in the suburbs, I did a circle around the block to be sure my weary eyes hadn't deceived me. Answer? No, they had not. Jock. Strap.
- Did craft projects with the boys. What can you do with a few empty Pringles cans, some cat litter, pipe cleaners, and paint? More than you could ever imagine!
- Read three books. One was good, one was just another collection of the same old thing packaged in a pretty cover, and one was god awful.
- Learned that Kevin Jonas got engaged. You'll be pleased to know I handled this news without rending of garments, gnashing of teeth, or pulling of hair. Much the same way I did when, back in the days when I wasn't a cougar and it seemed far more logical for me to be all agog about a boy band, I learned Nick Rhodes of Duran Duran was to marry a woman from near where I live. Kevin feels like the default Jonas. Would I have wept had I learned it was Joe who got engaged? I'll never say. Suffice to say, however, when Simon LeBon married, I was a wreck, so I think you know the answer.
- Had a dream I had sex with Jon Gosselin, and I wish I was kidding, but alas, no, I'm not. Apparently, in my dream life, I find Ed Hardy wear and mid-life crisis ear piercings totally sexy, and also, while Jon may deny to the tabloids that he has ever used the word "babe" in his life, suffice to say that, in my dreams, he says it way too much. I also just shuddered (again) sharing this part of my life with you.
It was a busy week, and we were able to fit Tool Man into the action over the weekend when he was finally free, when we did decidedly 'boy things' like spent SIX HOURS AT AN ARCADE, which would have been tolerable had a trio of high school boys not taken the damn Dance Dance Revolution game hostage the entire time, busting their sweet dance moves while taking turns videotaping themselves for their MySpace pages and pretending I wasn't standing there wanting (nay - NEEDING!) to dance because let me repeat - we spent SIX HOURS AT AN ARCADE.
So now it's Monday and that means I'm back to the taxing task of my stressful work life. Four hours a night, three nights a week?! Don't ask me how I do it! It also means my Tool Man is on vacation for a few days, and that whole thing about crawling through caves? About an hour ago, he and the boys left to travel across the state to do just that. They'll also stay overnight in a hotel and enjoy a few more adventures tomorrow before making their way home. Fueled with a cocktail of powdered sugar donuts (which will later be infused with a variety of Lunchables, beef jerky, licorice, nuclear orange peanut butter crackers, salted nut rolls, and juice boxes)(because nothing gives you stamina for hiking and exploring in Iowa's armpit-like weather like unnatural food products), my youngest son sped around the house this morning looking for his sneakers and yelling about how ENSHOESIASTIC he was for the adventure.
I just realized that maybe there was something scarily prophetic about my 'Sex With Jon Gosselin' dream (can't wait for the Google searches that land here because of that) as Tool Man and I totally just pulled a Jon and Kate this week and will be living separate lives. Except, how exciting, I'll be doing his laundry while he's away! I'll bet Kate washed her hands of that task the first moment Jon came home drunk (allegedly) and excited at getting a young girl to smile at him. I would've the first time he showed me those Ed Hardy jeans, but whatever.
Anyway, this post is all over the place. Probably because I'm exhausted from the lack of sleep I got last night dwelling on how I have to stay alive through tonight while alone in the house, something I've only done twice before in all the time we've lived here, and I'm not so sure that second time wasn't just because an intruder or Bigfoot just took pity on me as I huddled up in bed with the covers up over my head and a bathroom light blazing in the hallway. I'd also find it acceptable to blame it on my head compensating for the utter (and yet surprisingly delightful) silence around here. Silence I must now go break up by turning on the washing machine. Assuming I survive this night, I'll be around to catch up with you as soon as possible. Let us never be away from each other this long ever again!