D Day

Today was Draft day for fantasty football. I looked forward to this as though I was getting dressed up and going out somewhere. Like a ball. Driving home I had butterflies.

This is our four year tradition now. It's the official end of summer and introduction to what's become one of the best times of the year - four months of friends, football (food) and fun.

I can't say I feel that butterfly effect about my team, post draft. Think these little boys are gonna have to grow on me this year. Which they will the minute Team Mandelbobby starts WINNING!!

Today was also Driver's license day. As in, AS OF THIS MORNING (at least for a few hours) I WEIGH WHAT IT SAYS I WEIGH. For the first time since college or maybe high school. Don't know when I, er, departed from the truth on that document. It's been so long, it's laughable. And it's not exactly a fancy hollywood starlet type number we're talking.

But to weigh it is just, well, a real accomplishment. Hopefully I'm making some cranky old lady at the DMV proud.

It's Business Time

Actually, lest you think I'm ALL business ... THIS just made me laugh. Song lyrics from the Flight of the Concords song, "Business Time." About, well, taking care of bizness. (Dale, sorry in advance ... )

Flight of the Concords is this new show on HBO that Mike's obsessed with.




These guys are (supposed to be) two folk singers from New Zealand, coming to America to get discovered. The show's so goofy but funny and it grows on you.

And of course, technically its cultural for me. Since they come from as Mike would say, my homeland.

Just One More Thing to Say on This Topic

I just would like to say I TOTALLY LOVE AND AGREE WITH THIS GUY.

My two five day vacations (which are now a distant memory) simply weren't enough to recharge batteries. See, it's not me being spoiled to want long vacations. It's SCIENCE.

What I wouldn't give for a week - one week - off to just ... not DO.

Or to live in France. Cranky lazy Parisians may have it right after all.

Marathons Suck

I knew there's a reason I'd always fantasized about training for a marathon (or a 1/2) and never made one inch of attempt toward it. Because they SUCK.

Work right now is a marathon. And I'm in the 21st mile or whatever the hell feels like you're near the end and about to die but DAMMIT you're not done. And you're out of that squishy stuff and your shoes hurt and the guy running next to you smells and keeps cutting you off and Kramer throws hot coffee on you instead of water and ...

Anyway. I will survive. I will survive.

Wish me good "final approval and to the printer next week!" vibes. And I'll be having the happiest freaking Labor Day ever.

Budgetpalooza

All this year, I have been keeping a meticulous detailed budget. We really needed to get on track with our spending. Somehow though I am never buying half of what I want to, we're always, er, tight.

Today was catch-up-my-poor-neglected-budget day. I haven't really maintained it fully in a couple months. During both of Matt's naps and for the last two hours since same went nigh-nigh, I have been entering receipts and reconciling months of spending.

I probably have carpel tunnel and my legs are asleep but it's DONE, it's caught up.

Most of the missing entries were July and August. But for April - June, I also had to compare my list of already entered receipts to our final actual credit card and bank statements. It's anal and time consuming, but if I don't the one I miss will naturally be some little tiny thing ... like our new dryer or Libby's two-week check.

So after all this I see that we are ... well, still tight. We HAVE improved, big time. I can tell and thank goodness and GO US. Our spending in general is down, it's just that we've taken two mini-vacations this summer plus some weekend trips.

But we are, day to day, doing better and it's thanks in part to this budget. Seeing the numbers add up really helps curtail my impulses the next time I'm at Walgreen's or Target. (The key is I have to do it every week or two, though. The impact of my errant Easter-overpurchasing is less impactful now.)

So I finish and I tell Michael proudly we are exceeding our budget for the year but not by TOO much. And that I can see hope for us of places to tighten up a bit more and do better.

And then, to reward myself for my fiscal buttoned-up-ness, I close my horrible budget file and open the Internet to do my daily blog check of my fave mommy blogs.

And I see this post which represents this blogger's ode to (1) unnecessary IKEA purchases and (2) the $400 strollers she's narrowed her stroller search down to. And I think almost want to make my husband read it (though he'd probably sooner run to the store and buy boxes of lady products. He's not quite part of the blogosphere yet).

The point is, this girl PROVES the point I make EVERY time we talk about money.

"If I am overspending at Target ... or have a few too many shoes ... there are a 1,000 women out there doing ten times worse than me at any given moment."

Course, he never buys it.

Neither does my Excel budget sheet.

New High/Low

I am pretty sure Weight Watchers understands that their participants don't all stick to the "35 extra points a week" rule. I haven't for a while yet continue losing.

But I wonder what part of "the program" THIS fits into:

And God help me, I have two more days left before that bastard counter zeros out.

A Peeping WHAT?

Imagine my surprise when Mike hands me a bright pink flyer the other morning and calmly announces that we have a Peeping Tom in our neighborhood.

A WHAT? Didn't that phrase go out in the '50's, along with poodle skirts and greasers? What the heck is that anyway?

According to my scary pink flyer, it's a man in a black trench coat slash cape, with a big black hat on. That looks like he MIGHT be FBI if he weren't a peeping Tom. And he's black too, the same color as his coat and hat. Kinda like this guy, who is apparently peeping on us all through the computer screen:

But on the flier he's got snake like slits for eyes and they're hot pink from the flyer background. So he's more like Lord Voldemort in a Halloween detective costume.

Since my PC isn't working, I can't scan it for you tonight. So I'll improvise, ahem:

Alert!

Our neighborhood has been experiencing problems with trespassing, "Peeping Toms", and vandalism over the past few weeks. Police are aware and have been patrolling over night.

We will be having a neighborhood meeting at the Shrewsbury Police Station in the courtroom ... (don't want to say when, what if the Peeper shows up to our unguarded home? Oh yes, our "guard dogs" would wiggle on him to death.) A police detective will be there to answer questions and listen to concerns and we can share information.

Let's send a message that we won't accept this in our neighborhood. Leave your exterior lights on if possible at night. Please be aware of any unusual activity or strangers and report it to the police immediately. Let's help solve this problem.

I am thrilled with the initiative taken to set up to create and distribute this notice. And the police efforts for us. Yet again, I love my neighborhood. (I would point this flier isn't signed or reference to anyone so hopefully it is not indeed The Peeper himself crafting a master plan that will have us all scratching our heads wondering where our TVs and laptops went after the meeting's over.)

I'm also obviously pleased with the police efforts and the meeting, which we will be attending. But come ON people, how CREEPY is this? I haven't seen anything or noticed anything. But this is NOT what I want to hear! It upsets me that my neighbor(s) had to get upset and feel insecure ... and now we all do. You just never know what's going on ... someone casing the neighborhood for burglary would be the best of it, you know?

This is so cliche, but I have always felt so safe here. To walk by myself at night or early in the morning. Yes I am careful, watch over my shoulder, take the dogs, prefer to take Mike ... as W would say, I am vigilant. But I never really thought twice about it. Now I am thinking just once about it. No more for me. And that STINKS stinks stinks.

Not that taking a walk or really moving, at all, for any reason, has been on my agenda lately. But I'm always waiting for the urge to strike and now it only probably should during the daylight hours.

(Matthew, don't read this.) I do miss the days before having a baby when Mike and I could get the dogs out and go for a nice 9 p.m. walk after dinner and 8 o'clock hour TV. I couldn't always wrangle him, but when I could it was so great. A time to catch up and get the dogs out there (and sooo much easier with us both; even with the Gentle Leader, I am not the biggest fan of herding them both at once by myself). But now those days are gone. We either round up all the troops together and go before Matt goes down. Or I go by myself later.

And natch now that Mr. Peeper's lurking, maybe it'll be a while longer. I am going to blame him for these last 15 lbs.

(Don't you like all this light humor about a (hopefully) petty criminal roaming my street at night? I hope so, because it's helping me not be freaked out by it.)