Lorraine Says: The One With A Lot of Teeth

If you've been at all wondering where I've been (probably not) know that you are in good company; I'm pretty sure my job has been wondering that too.

See, for the past three days, I've taken it upon myself to be significantly late to work. Like, even later than normal-Lorraine-late, which if you carry the one = pretty fudgin' late.

It all goes back to Rule #17 of How to Never Work Ever:

Rule #17 - Holidays are contagious so that the day before and after a holiday are in fact holidays.

 Perhaps in combination with Rule #43:

Rule #43 - If you have a really crappy weekend, you are then entitled to make up that weekend in what ever not-working ways you see fit.

So, with Christmas right around the corner and because I basically wanted to punch this past weekend in the teeth, you can pretty much guess how productive I've been this week so far.

Read: not at all.

The weekend was a stupid head.

Friday night, the Christmas Party I went to ended up being a Christmas Lame Fest. Saturday, we got the Florida equivalent of snow (really, really cold rain) and that fudged our plan of attending this outdoor craft fair. Don't judge, craft fairs can be cool! The rain left our moods (and our clothing) pretty soggy.

Saturday night, I promised my sister Pink I would watch Gailey-bird while she went to a Christmas party with Cheese Cream. I love my niece. Like more than life. So hard. But some time after hour two of Dora the Explorer on a Saturday night, I pretty much went a little nuts.

Now, contrary to popular belief (aka my penchant for saying babies need guitar lessons, that your life ends after having kids, and that I might screw my kids up) I'm really good with kids, I'm a natural caregiver, and I want a few of them eventually, likeOMGnotnowbutyouknow, eventually.

That all said, I've figured out another reason why parenting might be harder than originally imagined: Little kid cartoons annoy the piss out of me. I mean, I HATE DORA. Like irrationally. Like with a fiery passion that is usually reserved for people and situations that are real. But it doesn't matter because I hate her.

Unfortunately for me, and my Saturday night, my niece asks for three cartoons by name: Little Einsteins (which, way to make me feel dumb cartoon) Handy Mandy (which she pronounces Ha-Mandy, and she always wiggles her bum when she says it. Also, Mandy isn't really that handy because his tools do all the work. He just STANDS THERE and watches them. Slacker.) and Dora.

DORA. 

I'm gonna need yoooour help. Can you see where the door is? La puerta?

Sigh. Really? Dammit, I know cartoons aren't supposed to appeal to me or my knowledge and skill set but REALLY? If she asks me where one more thing is, I might reach through the screen and punch her baby teeth. It's right. fudgin'. there. LOOK IN FRONT OF YOU. LOOK. Maybe if you didn't spend all your time translating random words and instead just LOOKED, you could find things on your own.

I'm sorry. I don't know what it is about her football shaped bob that just royally pisses me off. Maybe it's because there is only room for one football head in my life.

This is probably why I can't actually watch real football either.

Anyways, I'm totally done now, but this is how I spent my Saturday night and I just had to rant. After an equally uneventful Sunday, I was pretty dissatisfied.

That's when Rox told me the worst thing to ever tell me of ever:

Rox: This weekend DID suck. It's a good thing I'm off on Monday and Tuesday.

Really Rox? This again?
I needed a weekend do-over, so Monday I texted out of work. Rox and I met up for breakfast and to run a few errands and that essentially turned into an entire breakdown of 2010 and a discussion of all of our goals for 2011.

This is why I love Roxanne: We can have a conversation about anything. I can share my pipe dreams with her, and she never makes me feel like they are impossible. I can TMI with her, and she never cringes (much.) We can sit around and essentially put together a verbal 2011 resolutions list, and we're still awesome.

Also, she provides me with these gems:

Lor: Do you know Anthology's best friend? Penny wants me to meet him.

Rox: Yeaaah no. She tried that with me a long time ago and no.

Lor: No?

Rox: He... he's got a lot of teeth. It's like... like none of his features got together and said, "Hey what are you gonna do?"

Classic. Of course the old guy standing in front of us in line at Einsteins thought it was hilarious too, so he turns around to LOL with us. Roxanne Harrington: entertaining the masses.

Rox: Dude, you need to buy a laptop.

Lor: I know. I know I need one but I just don't want to spend the money.

Rox: Yeah, but this is actually something you need. You need it for school and like... the blog misses you. And I'm trying to keep it up but... I'm like the dad and I'm trying my best to take care of our kid but I just don't know what this kid needs. And you're like the mom who's back at work because I got laid off from my job as a gas station attendant and the kid is all "waaaaaaah" and I just... don't know.

Can everyone tell Rox that we love her even if she got laid off and doesn't know how to comb the blog's hair?

Penny: I love how Rox always personifies the blog in the most Jerry- Springer-way possible

Me too Penny. Me too.

Anyways, after a perfectly lovely morning, and after Rox went off to meet her boy, I just ended up showing up to work half day. Over all? Win.
In other news, I'll be out of town this weekend. My family came together and decided that Christmas is stupid. To lessen the stupidity, we decided to take a trip to Orlando to spend the holidays there with each other, but also with Mickey Mouse. We're leaving tomorrow.

I'm looking forward to a better weekend.

I'll stop talking now, even though I haven't run out of things to say. Because Rox, Pen and I should really learn how to stick to our plans, and I bought a laptop! and does no one else find it weird that Dora is basically like 3 years old but her parents let her wander around a forest where there is a fox who is ALWAYS trying to steal her stuff?

Way to absentee parent.