Right Here. Right Now.

Is it Friday? Not yet. Dang. Remember when I used to do Random Fridays? Well, guess what? I'm not just random on Fridays.

I think if you get a tattoo on your face you're an idiot. I mean, I love me a good tattoo. I really, really do. But on your face? You're an idiot.

I've been accused of raising a feminist. I was all worked up talking at my husband. Scrunch climbed up on the stool next to me and patted my shoulder, "It's okay mom. He doesn't understand. He's just a boy."

I cannot get behind St. Patrick's Day. Usually I'm an all out sucker for an excuse to dress up, but I don't know...isn't it kind of a sad statement on our society that adults need an excuse to get absolutely plastered on a Thursday evening? And it's not even the good stuff. Getting wasted on green colored pee. Don't get it.

Oh, and go ahead. Pinch me. I dare ya. Ya bunch of green whackadoodles.

You are never really alone. Not really. Even when you decide to pluck your eyebrows with your thumb and first finger in the rear view mirror while you wait in the drive thru for a Dr. Pepper, extra ice. Oh yeah. That would be an entire packed dining room at Del Taco that can see you. Just a heads up.

All it takes is a palatoplasty to lite a fire under my slacker-knitter butt. Ishbel has been cast off and will be blocked tomorrow. I had to wait to get rid of the guest room bed because I needed it to block my Hemlock ring. I had the mattress laying flat in the empty dining room. Two hundred pins later it was left to dry. I thought I also blocked the entrance to the dining room. When I went to check on the progress a few hours later I found Ani curled up in a ball on my still wet Hemlock Ring and pins EVERYWHERE. My Craigslist add is going to list the bed for $25.00 bucks. I'm throwing the dog in for free.

I am somewhere between, "I must remain calm. I must not overreact." (Name that Disney reference you smarty pants.) And "Holy freaken' cow!!!!! I am not ready for this!"

I'm calm. Totally calm, cool, and collected.

A little help here!

This is going to be fine. He's going to be fine. I know. Of course he's going to be fine. He gets the pain pills, anesthesia, and everything else he needs. It's Mom who gets nada.

Hmmm. Will I feel better if I stick the pins in Ani? No. Bad idea. I retract that last statement before I am reported to PETA. They're a bunch of green wackadoodles too. Oops. Better retract that, too.

If you happen find a little green leprechaun, make a wish for me. I wish for an endless supply of fresh from the fountain Dr. Peppers with extra ice. And only because I don't think I can show my face at that Del Taco for a while.