Wow, who the hell said they got laid off right after remodeling their house?  Was it Cupcakes?  Not sure if it’s karma, a jinx, or what in the hell happened, but literally yesterday I got the axe.

So all in all I have a divorce just weeks away from being official, and I just go the axe from a very easy and lucrative job. I think most people would be huddled in the corner in the fetal position. However, for some strange reason I’m so more than okay with this, I don’t even know what to say.

I called one of my good AZ friends (while on the way for a few beers) laughing about my recent luck. Laughing? Yes, laughing. I’m not faking it, either. For some reason I’m totally okay with it. Sure, I need to figure some things out. Sure, it’s not all perfect, but for some strange reason, I truly believe that this is all going to be fine.

Is it crazy that I’m this happy? Six months ago I would have been FREAKING out. Now I’m laughing. I’m not sure what to think or if this is going to sink in at a later date…..

This weekend starts my family’s holiday season. We have 8 celebrations in 7 weeks. It’s great but totally exhausting and by the end I want to curl up on my bed, pretend that no one else exists and sleep for an entire week. Let’s top that off with me now having bronchitis AND ear infections in both ears. Fucking ear infections, how old am I? 3? What adult gets ear infections? Man, this baby is going to be a handful if he/she is anything like my pregnancy. I am really in for it.

Anywho, enough of my random drug/pregnancy induced rambling. This made me laugh my ass off and then cough up a lung biscuit worthy of a world record.

Oddly Specific

Make sure you go through lots of the pages, there are some doozies. Enjoy my readers, enjoy.

Oprah had a show on recently that had a couple go on a bounce house date to help them find their inner fun selves. You would have thought that I had discovered a show on the cure for cellulite. I was totally fixated on the screen like a hungry cat in front of a fishbowl.

A “FUN” date, WHAT a concept! We always force romantic dates on ourselves because that just seems like what you are supposed to do on a “date night”. But in truth, we aren’t really a “romantic couple”. I like romance like I like Chinese food, a few times a year is usually enough.

We dumped off the kids at the in-laws and started surfing for places on the road. (We never plan ahead, ever). After realizing that the indoor go-kart place that I discovered online, and was TOTALLY pumped about, had apparently disappeared off the face of the earth and my IPhone battery started flashing the “20% battery” death message we made a quick decision to go indoor rock climbing.

The Husband didn’t appear to be super enthused but was trying to go along with it to pacify me in hopes that he would score more than a hand callous later in the night. I, on the other hand was so excited that I skipped to the entrance, beaming like the Sunmaid Raisin girl. That is until I got to the door and was met by a young lady being escorted out by two dudes. Normally I would have snuck her a high-five for the perfect 10’s on either side of her but since she was in an ENORMOUS leg splint it didn’t seem appropriate.

We get to the front desk to sign up. The kid behind the counter gives us a long list of legal that he knows we aren’t going to read. I say “so, what’s up with the poor girl that got carried out of here?”

“Oh yeah thaaaaat, mmm yeah don’t really know what happened there. Anyways!….” Kid hands us a pen and cheerily pipes in “sign here! Here annnnd here! I know you didn’t read it but basically it says if you die it’s not our fault.”

We sign our right to lawsuits away and kid says “do you want to rent shoes? I mean, they are safer than the ones you have on, but since you already signed your legal rights away then you could go up in platforms for all I care.” I took one look at the rubbery little shoes that were likely hosting fungus orgies and decided I would take my chances with the ones I had on.

After getting one-on-one instruction from Spidey himself I went up for the first time. I thought I was a Housewife NINJA crawling up those rocks with The Husband surely staring at me with adoration from below. I got to the top and made the mistake of looking down. Spidey yells at me to “lean all the way back”. I wanted to yell back “Fuck you and you superhero nametag. Lean back my ASS! That’s like asking for death, asshole!” Promises of getting to order dessert with dinner almost coaxed me to come down. But really it was being suspended 30 feet in the air with a direct crotch shot for several dozen people and the sudden warm leaking OMG-is-that-my-mother-fucking-period feeling that finally got me down to ground level, pronto.

Watching The Husband man crawl up the rocks was pretty hot too, I can’t lie. He just oozed testosterone. I felt like an adolescent wanting to stick out my tongue at the chick beside us and saying “my boyfriend can climb higher than your boyfriend, nanny nanny boo-boo! (I know, right! Who admits to having those thoughts?)

At one point when I was letting him down I forgot to release him all the way, leaving him suspended just enough above the mat to cause severe pain to his man parts and basically ruining any remaining chances for future children. Thank God he still loves me.

We left the rock climbing place splint-free, arms entwined and in THE most romantic mood that we had felt in months. It was a ROCKIN’ good date. So, now I am already looking forward to our next FUN date. Top Golf? Go-Karts? Batting cages?

Help a Housewife out. What FUN dates have you been on or heard about that would be worth giving a try? Shout out in the comments section.

XOXO
Roxy

I’ve never been a big gambler.  I love to gamble, but I don’t know the in’s and out’s well to feel confident enough to play by myself.  When I was single, I had a guy who was my Blackjack and Craps coach, among other things.  However, once I got married, I was no longer allowed to ‘play’ with him, and my gambling had to be put on hold.  So one of the friends I traveled out there with this past weekend was a big gambler.  I was so excited to hit the tables.  As I get older, I’m finding I’m much more about the camaraderie you find at the tables vs. the clubs.

I had a few by the time we sat down at our first table.  By a few, I mean several martinis, and I sat down with a friend of mine on either side.  We loved, loved, loved our dealer.  She was fun, peppy, and we just were all having a good time.  To say I was having beginner’s luck, is an understatement.  I seriously hit about 7 Blackjacks in the first 3o minutes.  I wasn’t putting down high bets, but when I was several hundred dollars up, I was thrilled.  (Keep in mind, this is the same girl that was elated to win $80 on a nickel machine just a few years prior.)

The dealer asked me if this was honestly one of my first go ’rounds at the game.  I seriously replied, ‘Well not really because I have a Blackjack app on my iPhone.’  Which basically presented teasing material for the rest of the night.

So the memory started to go, we went out to a club, and the memory started to come back around 3am.  I’m a trooper, as I can bounce back, even in the middle of the night.

I woke up the next morning remembering the fun I had while sitting at the table, but not so much remembering leaving.  When I opened my purse, I had one $25 chip.  ‘Hey’, I said to my friend.  ‘I thought I was winning last night.’

‘Oh you were, and I have all your chips.’

Of course I was highly confused.  Now when I get drunk, I get very rich and very generous.  Of course, I always pay for it the next morning, but I just feel like I need to take care of everyone and their mother.  So the story goes that I decided the dealer should have all of my winnings.  That it wasn’t mine, and she probably needed it more than I did.  I wanted it to be my tip to her.  I was told several times ‘Elanah, you can’t just leave her all your money.’  I saw no reason why I couldn’t and eventually,  I got up and walked from the table, leaving all my winnings behind.  The dealer looked at my friend like I was crazy and the friend ended up piling all my chips in her purse.  I must say I know I would have had to live with it, and wouldn’t have been a little disappointed, but I was very happy with my friend.

I played three more times.  I kept going up except for sit down number three where I lost it all….  I still heart Vegas and Blackjack, though and will continue to gamble, but only on a two martini limit.

I have been doing really well. I told you guys last week that I had only gained 1 pound. So far that it still true. So far.

See, I made a mistake. I took my kids to my alumni Easter Egg Hunt. They hit the jackpot. Tons of toys, bubbles and candy. The candy I quickly snatched away for a later to use as a bribing tool. The only thing is that I ate the candy in a “Why the fuck am I a stay at home mom” moment. After that it was over.

Next thing I know, as I am buying my healthy steel cut oats and brown rice at the store my eye wanders to the bulk candy. Wow, those peanut butter pretzels suuuure do look good. Oh, maybe some yogurt covered apricots. I broke and bought a bit. I wouldn’t feel so guilty but.. well… I’m hiding them. I mean, I hid them. They’re gone now. They were gone about 2 hours after I got home and put the kids down for a nap. The evidence is in my bedside drawer waiting for a way to me to figure out how to dispose of it before Hubby catches me and questions me on what I am eating, or why I didn’t share.

Yeah, it doesn’t stop there. You know that egg hunt candy? Well it reintroduced me to Starbursts.  A relationship that I have not had since high school. I decided yesterday that it was high time to rekindle the love full time. So at Target I decided to buy a package. The mistake I made was somehow finding the candy aisle before the checkout aisle. What does that mean? A shit load of candy that this knocked up bitch must now stand and stare at to decide what will fill my craving the most.

Gummy Bears! Hell yes! Just $1 for an entire bag. I walk a couple of more steps… 3 pounds of Gummy Bears! Luckily the last scene of  Ferris Buller came to mind and I passed on the Bears. Then, Sour Patch… SOUR PATCH! No, Gummy Worms. No, Lifesavers… GUMMY lifesavers. No, no, Twila, stick to the plan. Starbursts. Readers… they now have a bag of Starbursts that are just the good flavors! How awesome, it’s like the Starburst people said,”Twila is about to come back to us, lets give her just what she wants.” I grabbed them, along with a large bag of Jolly Ranchers.

As soon as I got to the car I quite literally ripped into them. I have the evidence to prove it.

The sad thing, I am still hiding them. They are still in my purse and I have thrown the wrappers straight into our outside trash can. Arrrrr. These cravings make me insane. I have lost any control I might have ever had. I must be stopped. This baby is like a little devil on my shoulder, “eat it, I want it, come on just DO IT!”

P.S. If you see a crazy lady at Schlotzsky’s drooling over the menu it’s me. I haven’t had one in about 8 years and this baby is telling me that it is time to go back. That and Snuffer’s cheese fries, fully loaded.

Thanks to the SHOT THAT WENT THROUGH MY ASS CRACK (confirmed by Hubs) I can actually sit! and move around! and pick up everyone’s shit!  But I’m still not going to give my dog a hand job – no matter how much he mumbles about not having opposable thumbs.  I should call this my update post, you know, cuz I didn’t die or anything.  But, did you hear?  The shot WENT UP THROUGH MY ASS CRACK!  UP!  To get to my back.  Are we all clear on that?  Up.  Ass Crack.  OK, now we can move on.

Thanks to my determination that the doctor insisted on bed rest for a full 60 days, (Hubs just aint buying it) I’ve seen more than my fair share of TV.  So I’ve spent a ridiculously large amount of my brain matter on The Tiger Woods Scandal!  Scandal my ass.  (Should I just go ahead and capitilize the words Ass from here on?  My ass and I have never spent so much time thinking about each other, I feel it’s only proper.)

Why exactly do his cum depositories require an apology?  You were his CD at the Bank of PussyPalooza, and let’s just say Tiger had more than one account.  What a handbag of douches.  Sorry, bitch please.  YOU WERE JUST A FUCK.  He needed a, pardon the pun, grip.  He was horny, his dick was hard, you just happened to be the one he called.  Does he need to apologize to his hand for all the times it jacked his dick off with no apology?  You were nothing more than a different hand job.  You can’t pull the “I didn’t know who he was”, cuz Bitch, you knew who he was when he rolled up.  No way to hide the fact that you’re Tiger Woods.

So, cry cum depository, cry.  He owes his family and his wife an apology and if you want to come forward and say he slept with you, then you owe his wife and his family an apology. 

Sure sucks to be caught, stupid.

And that is all I have for today.  I need a laptop for the bed!  It appears me and my Ass have another appointment with the Ass God for another shot through my Ass in May.  So not excited.

How many remotes does it take for a blonde to turn a TV on? Um, apparently a lot. The Husband has this “thing” for electronics. The wiring behind our TV looks like a messy plate of spaghetti. There has to be some kind of fire code violation or a small zoo animal living back there somewhere.

He gets frustrated when I call him at work and say “I (er ) the KIDS must have hit a button on the remote and now I can’t turn the TV on.” On the other side of the line (rolling his eyes I am sure) he proceeds to walk me through the countless buttons that I ALREADY pushed but apparently didn’t push in the correct fucking sequence. I can usually manage a bitter “thank you” after I get it to work with his instruction instead of bitching that the “sequence” is stupid and that his BFF TV hates me.

This is all after I spent ten aggravated minutes tearing up the house searching for the blasted remote in the first place. Oh, it’s an ugly scene. Couch cushions get overturned, mail gets scattered, drawers stand open, and I am sweating and cursing like a madwoman in need of meds. It’s always lodged under a couch cushion, always. I don’t know why I haven’t just accepted this. And no, just pushing the button on the actual TV doesn’t work either. Trust me.

When my parents came to watch our kids for a few days while we were out of town my mom almost had a panic attack when I handed her the two page hand written instructions with visual aids on how to get the channel to CNN. We even practiced turning on the TV together…seriously. They only called us when the kids had a meltdown from Dora withdrawals. I made my husband talk to them since it was his fault the damn system was so FREAKING complicated in the first place.

There are remotes for everything. TVs, DVDs, ceiling fans, lights, garage doors, stereos, computer monitors. I’m sort of surprised there isn’t a remote for the stupid remotes. See exhibit A…

Readers, meet my nemesisessses. (How do you say that plural anyways? ) All 25 of them. Oh, and I should have labeled which rooms I got these from because it took me an hour to figure out where they were all supposed to go back after I took this blasted picture.

Is it just a guy thing? Is this normal? Am I the only person on the face of the earth that wishes there was just a 1970’s version TV with a DIAL I could buy? God forbid I should have to stand up and WALK over to the TV to turn the volume up. Thank goodness I don’t watch that much TV, I might seriously need meds.

There is ONE remote that my husband just can’t seem to figure out how to use. Probably because it only has an ON/OFF switch.

That’s right…THAT, my friends, is the remote to my zipper.

XOXO
Roxy

So papers are filed, and in just a few more weeks, the state of Texas will deem me as officially divorced. I’ve been out of the game for so long, that I have to admit, I’m a little nervous. I’m definitely looking forward to my single life. I already have a couple of different trips planned where I can go without feeling guilty for having a good time.

With that being said, I still joined eharmony. I know, I know, way too soon, but I just had to feel like I still had it. It seems all so strange because anytime anyone hit on me before, I threw out the ‘married’ card. I didn’t want to go there, didn’t want to get tempted, and I wanted nothing to do with it before it got into shady territory. So now, all of a sudden, I’m supposed to be open to it, and it’s all a little scary.

I thought a long time about how I wanted to approach this.  I went for the sexual attraction thing last time, and was really closed minded about the guys I dated.  We all see where that landed me.  So I vowed that this time I was going to be much more open minded.  Knowing I was going to be out of town this upcoming weekend, I lined up 3 dates this past weekend.  First one was Friday night, and as I went to get mani’s/pedi’s with a friend that day, she told me I was crazy to agree to a dinner.  She said it was all about the short meeting so that way you had an out.  I told her that this guy seemed really nice, and even if I wasn’t interested we would at least still have normal conversation.

MUCHO Mistake!  By an hour into the evening, I wanted to take the soup spoon and poke my eyes out.  It was horrible, and to make matters worse, he was into me.  As I sat there listening to him talk about boring shit, various thoughts passed through my mind:

1. What in the hell am I doing?  Is being single for the rest of my life really that bad?

2. It would have been nice if he would have posted at least one picture of the extreme bubble ass.

3. My dogs would eat this fool for breakfast.

4. So maybe the marriage wasn’t so bad, after all.  I wonder if I begged, if ex-hubby would take me back.

5. I’m in my skinny jeans for this crap???

When the check was delivered and paid, I bolted.  I had a tiny breakdown on my drive home.  I was going to vow off Internet dating.  It was also weird for me to be living in TX and dating, and I wanted to go ‘home’ to Scottsdale.  I was saying screw the open minded approach, and I was going to go back to being shallow.  And I was just going to live single, until either I met someone or a friend could introduce me to someone.

I also decided to cancel dates #2 and #3 on Saturday.  As I was taking my dog out for a morning walk, I ran into same friend and told her about my dating disaster.  She told me I can’t give up, and it’s all about a numbers game.

I still canceled date #3.  However, it was too late to cancel date #2.  Knowing that it was going to suck, I reluctantly went.

Oh, crap, looks like this is turning into a novel.  Guess I’ll have to tell the date #2 story next week…..Now off to Vegas, Suckas!!!

My mind is swimming right now. Lots ‘o shit going on in the Lovettz household and we are in a state of limbo which has my structured self FREAKING OUT! I will tell you guys whats going on. Soon. I hope. It’s juicy, believe me. But the time just isn’t right yet and I don’t want to count my eggs before they have hatched.

A couple things that it is not… twins. Not pregnant with twins, or triplets or any sort of number other than one. Divorce or separation, still desperately love my Hubby.

Yeah, that’s why I don’t have a clever post. My mind is consumed by a state of limbo. That and the progesterone seems to have taken away any brain cells I might have had left. So instead I will give you a tiny update on Baby Lovettz.

I have finally made into my 2nd trimester. I was seriously questioning if I was going to live, the 24/7 hangover I felt for a good 8 weeks was a killer, add the stomach flu and a hubby out of town. Yep, I was struggling. But, as of last week 80% of the sickness has gone away leaving me feeling sorta normal.

The belly has started growing and I think this week will be my last in regular shorts. So I will soon be off to spend money on what I hate most, maternity clothes. The good news? I’ve actually only gained 1 pound! Guess I have the stomach flu to thank for that.

Don’t know if it’s a boy or girl yet. Yep, I plan on finding out. I figure it’s just as much as a surprise in that little dark room as it is in the delivery room.

Cravings/Aversions: Starburst are suddenly the best candy on the face of the Earth. Any HFCS filled, fake fruit flavored candy is totally delicious. Gone is my love for dark chocolate. I could completely eat a burger every day for lunch AND dinner. Beer oh how I miss you beer. I actually find myself sniffing and licking Hubby’s when he has one.

Alright, I’m done. The beer craving has put me over the edge. Do they make beer flavored jelly beans?

My ass will be exposed and I won’t like it today.  In about 30 minutes I have to report in at the hospital for my back situation.  Husband doesn’t like me calling it back surgery, so now it’s just a “situation”.  According to more than one source I’m going to feel like a million bucks afterwards.  If true, then my “situation” and I might end up at amateur night at the strip club.  I’m pretty sick of being in bed.  There’s only so much HGTV one can endure.

A special thanks to Dub for the ecard – hilarious!! 

Alright – dudes, I’m out.