Welcome to the ‘hood

We live in a great neighborhood. Great location, nice people, little if any crime (knock on wood). We do, however, have a very ghetto neighbor. They are very nice, at least they seem friendly, but they have a green front yard. And by green, I mean they have poured concrete where flowers and grass should be and then painted it green. Not kidding. They also at some point cut down their palm tree into little stumps for sitting. So there is a nice, semi circle of stumps on the concrete. It’s pretty awesome.

As Peter and I drove by their “yard”, we noticed they were having a party – a fiesta or pachanga, if you will (insert  joke about Sheriff Joe identifying illegal immigrants by the type of party they throw because that’s not racial profiling ~here~). I waved as we passed.

Peter was suddenly struck – had I gone and made friends with the them? Was I going to suggest that we also cement our yard to avoid high water bills? I explained to PW that I wave to them because they are our neighbors and I want them to know we’re friendly people. I also wave  in the hopes that if they decided that our house looks good for the robbing, that they will recognize me in our family pictures as their nice neighbor who waves to them and decide to leave only empanadas and not rob us blind.

So the next time your ghetto neighbor is out and about, be sure to be nice so they skip your house and rob another 🙂

Shamalama…diiing dong

It has become very apparent as our little lady learns to speak that she is a sponge for information and is begining to regurgitate that information more readily. Therefore I have embarked on a mission that I’ve not tried since lent 2007 – stopping swearing.

It’s a terrible habit and something I should have gotten rid of a long time ago. But I’ve found over the years that swearing allows just that little bit of stress relief so desperatley needed. However, I feel that Baylie’s teachers are really going to frown on the fact that she drops an F-bomb after realizing she colored outside of the lines.

My quest to stop the bad language became a higher priority after I caught her running away with my cell phone and I’m pretty sure she said “sh*t” when I caught her.

I’ve started to replace some of the more popular words in my vocabulary with funny, non offensive alternatives. For example, we don’t say the f word any more. Instead we say Fred Mertz – as in Lucy’s best friend Ethel’s husband and neighbor from I Love Lucy. So instead of saying “F*ck that hurt!” when brutally pinching the soft underside of my arm while taking down the baby gate, I say “Fred Mertz that hurts!”. The first time Peter heard me say it, he questioned who the hell Fred is, which makes me laugh and thus solving the swearing and also easing they pain of the huge purple bruise on my arm.

In a similar fashion, we also no longer use the S word, but rather I try to say “Shamalamadingdong”. Which, much like saying “Fred Mertz” reminds me of the scene in Animal  House where the guys take their dates to the sketchy bar were Otis Day and The Knights are singing  Shamalama. This visual always makes me laugh and starts a stream of movie quotes:

Bluto: Over? Did you say “over”? Nothing is over until we decide it is! Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no!
Otter: Germans?
Boon: Forget it, he’s rolling.

So, if you have any other replacements for the more colorful words in our language, be sure to let me know!

Fly the Annoying Skies – Part 2

So we left off at our return flight…we flew on Allegient Air out of Mesa Gateway Airport. It’s a new discount airline, but it flies direct to a lot of small towns. Overall, I give the travel an “A”. However, the travel time weighed heavily as there are a lot of little negatives. For example…

To start, you pay for EVERYTHING. Bag? Fee. Want a specific seat? Say, next to your 13 month old? Fee. Want to get on first? Fee. Drink? Fee. Snack? Fee. I’m surprised there wasn’t a credit card slot on the bathroom door – although I didn’t check so maybe there was. Also, they don’t preboard people with kids – not a huge deal, but it is kind of nice to get a chance to gate check the stroller, find your seat, get the car seat strapped in, get the kid strapped in, strap yourself in, you get the picture.

I was calm until it was finally our turn to board and there were people gathered around the seating area waiting for their row – blocking the path to the gate. I had to restrain Peter from violently and “accidentally” bumping a woman out of the way. Why people, why? The plane is not leaving without you and if it was, why would standing directly in front of the gate but 12 feet away stop it?!

We also had 2 flight attendants stop us to check Baylie’s car seat to make sure it was airplane ready – ok, not a problem. But the one on the plane (my mom would describe her as the one they keep chained in the back and only let her out to growl at complainers) loudly and rudely told us that Bay’s seat was “unsafe”. Huh? I have to think even a standard car seat strapped into an airplane seat is going to be marginally safer than her squirming out of a lap belt! She also told us that she couldn’t sit by herself – we had to produce a boarding pass for her to reassure her that we weren’t pilfering an empty seat on an, only partially full mind you, flight. Good think B is such a cutie, they can’t say no to her.

Lastly, who are the people who get up to go to the front (forward?) bathroom before the seatbelt sign is off? Even if you haven’t been on a plane since September 11th, you’d have to think that that kind of action might warrant a negative outcome. So watching the guy argue with the flight attendant got my terrorist radar up (I had my belt ready so Peter could tie him up with it) – but thankfully he was just a dumbass who didn’t get the memo nor the reminder to hit the head prior to boarding.

So, the lesson is – bring a book, don’t shuffle your cards and pay attention to the seatbelt sign and pee before you get on the plane. And travel with a cute kiddo.

Fly the Annoying Skies

I always find it amazing what people find appropriate behavior on a plane. We were just in Montana visiting the fam and I was very anxious about Baylie’s first flight. B is a pretty easy-going kiddo; not much upsets her. But I was worried she would be that kid who just screams the entire time. I packed juice, milk, bottles, snacks, toys, books, her blanket, a favorite stuffed animal, a sweatshirt, the portable DVD player and lots of Baby Einstein (God bless Baby Einstein!) and if all else failed, my keys and cell phone for her entertainment and comfort. It was a ridiculous amount of items. But it paid off – after playing with the cell phone and various other toys, drinking a bottle at take off, and then watching part of a DVD, she passed out until we landed two hours later. Amazing!

In my efforts to keep her happy, I neglected to pack enough entertainment for me. When I used to travel to DC for work, I had an insane fear of running out of reading material (I once played solitaire on my Ipod for 2 hours after finishing my book and magazines  – my eyes wouldn’t focus for hours after) so I usually travel with two books plus magazines and an Ipod. However, there is a limit to what two people can carry – a baby (yes, I did contemplate having her wear a backpack), two carry on bags, a jogger and a car seat is PLENTY.

After finishing People magazine, I was out of things to do. The kiddo was happily sleeping and I was ready to sleep too (we started out at 2am, woo! I’ll sleep when I’m dead!) but couldn’t because of the constant sound of someone shuffling cards. Why on earth does anyone think that it is ok to participate in such a loud and annoying activity in a confined public space?! Sure, sure, play cards. But don’t freaking shuffle them for 10 minutes in between hands!

I started looking around checking out fellow passengers to pass the time. I noticed 2 other people just sitting there –  no magazine, no book, no bag, no ipod, no annoying cards, no nothing. Not trying to fall asleep, just staring straight ahead. Terrorist? My normal paranoia would lead me to believe so, however, who wants to blow up a regional jet headed to Billings Montana? My guess is no one. So my question is this: what kind of weirdo gets on a plane for 2+ hours and doesn’t bring something to do?! I at least had one magazine that I could go back and like reread or something, so don’t go saying “but you didn’t have anything to do on the plane”.  But to bring absolutely nothing?! Weirdo.

The return flight was uneventful as far as the kiddo goes – but the people were just as strange. Stay tuned for part 2 of the Annoying Skies where we discuss the people that line up long before their row number is called and block the way to the gate, the flight attendant who argued that Baylie couldn’t sit in her car seat in her own (PAID FOR) seat because it wasn’t safe (yeah, I was confused to), and the dumbass who gets up before the seatbelt sign is off to use the bathroom and then argues with the flight attendant (all together now: TERRORIST!).

The Wait is Over!

Hello readers! The wait is over, The Goon Room is back! The post schedule is a little different, but I think you’ll enjoy the consistancy. There will also be a few surprise posts and some new contributors. Look for weekly posts on Monday/Tuesday each week – be sure to subscribe to the blog (top left has info on free subscriptions) so that you’ll get a notice of a post. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Pardon our Dust

Hi Readers! The Goon Room will be under construction for a bit while I work on getting some new contributors and themes put together. Stay tuned for the new and improved The Goon Room!

What’s in a Name

I think we have a terrible epidemic in this country and it has to do with really ridiculous titles. You know what I mean, when you meet someone and their title is two lines on their business card? Now, I’m guilty of this too – I  liked having a title of Manager vs. Coordinator. Did anyone outside my company know what that meant – or for that matter outside my department? Nope, but I had to have it!

I love reading Phoenix Home and Garden. And I usually skim over the gardening section just to see if there’s anything useful (most of it is so basic and obvious, it’s not worth spending the time reading!). However the one thing that always strikes me about this section is the person writing it – their title, and I kid you not is: The University of Arizona Maricopa County Cooperative Extension Master Gardener. WHAT?? And it doesn’t really make sense since UofA is in Pinal county, not Maricopa…but I digress. What the hell does someone need that long of a title for? And why do they insist on writing it out every time?!

Again back to my previous employer..I very much liked the company and most of the people who ran it, but I’m pretty sure that all they did was reorganize the company and then give themselves new titles. In the four years I was there, I think they went through 3 different title changes – but all the same core group. As they would promote people they would give themselves new, better titles so as not to be confused with the little people. They went from vice presidents to senior vice presidents to executive senior vice presidents. I don’t think it would have been long before there was a change to “really super important vice president”.

The best part about my current job is that I get to pick my own title and it changes often. Sometimes I’m just “mama”, always “housekeeper”, many times “driver”, always “chef” (not cook, I’m much too good for that title), often “enforcer” when I have to put on a mean face and voice to keep Baylie away from the fireplace, and periodically”Beth”.  But really, I prefer “Super Beth”….

Deep Thoughts

I often think of funny things to write about, but they are too long for a Face Book post and too short for a full blog. So! Here are a few of the deep thoughts I’ve had lately:

Man Soap: I accidently bought Dial’s new “Man Soap”. It’s apparently the way they are going to get men to use their soap. I’m sure you’ve noticed, but there’s now seems to be a big campaign to get men to use body wash, etc. I say more power to the marketers, however, it would be helpful if they would mark the stuff better. The soap I bought is dark blue, has ridges for better grip (I mean really..) and smells like Axe Body Spray. I don’t have any issues with the way it smells, it just weirds me out when I smell like Peter…

Say what? Since I’ve been writing this blog, I’ve come across a few words that I say quite often but never type. The reason? Because I have absolutely no idea how to spell them. And I’m not even sure if I get the spelling correct that it’s really the word I wanted in the first place .Such words as psych, as in “Do you want some? (then pulling the item back quickly and saying) Psych!”. It took me forever to think about how to spell that. And pterodactyl – who the hell knew it had a P?? Sure I, the non spelling bee winner (or contestant..heck, they wouldn’t even let me keep score) did not know this, but do normal, decent spellers? I think not.

Solar energy: I would love to have solar panels on our roof. Yes for energy saving, but really to be able to flip off and laugh at the meter each month as is spins backwards. Then singing a little song and do a little dance as APS sends me a CHECK instead of a large bill.

Thank you..for nothing: I’m not sure what it is about weddings and babies that makes total strangers think they can offer you their opinion. If you had a huge growth on your neck, no one would say anything. But suddenly there’s a pending nuptial or a slobber machine on your hip and they are all about it. I had Bay at the grocery the other day and I had undone the strap that goes around her chest in the cart. Right right, not super safe, but it was too tight and she was starting to get crabby and I needed to squeeze 10 more minutes of quiet, nice baby out of her so I took it off (yes I have one of those nice shopping cart covers, no, I don’t use it because it’s crap). She instantly picked it up and put in her mouth. Now, I don’t normally let my kiddo chew on things that other people have touched, but I had wiped it down with alcohol wipes about 6 times before putting her in the cart so I let it go (you can’t win them all and sadly, they don’t make a bubble in her size). I passed a cranky old lady in a motorized cart in the milk section and she began lecturing me on how if she were me, she wouldn’t let that baby chew on that. I nicely replied that I agreed, but it was clean (enough) and it was keeping her quiet so thanks for you concern (not). The woman then turned to her sister on another motorized cart and began telling her the situation – you would have thought I was letting her chew on some broken glass. I wanted to say “You think this is bad? I taught her to feed treats to the dogs and she almost always licks them first!”. But I don’t really want to have CPS on my doorstep so I just hurried along. The batteries were dying on their carts anyway so I figured we could make a safe getaway!

Good Service is Hard to Find

If you ever need good service somewhere, I’ll let you borrow Baylie. She has this amazing power to turn even the crankiest person into a big old softie. And she’s memorable so it’s not just a one off!

Take for instance the dry cleaners. The cheap cleaners to be precise. I think it’s like $1.55 for any article of clothing and I had them do a big table-cloth once and it was like $7. It’s awesome, but I’m sure the people working there make next to nothing so customer service is not really part of that $1.55. Most of them pretend not to speak english and you’re lucky if they don’t throw your clothes and change at you on the way out. Until there was Baylie. Something about that little bald head and toothy smile that just melts people. Now when we walk in, we have to allow for at least 10 minutes so they can all talk to her and she can tell them about her week. My mom used to always tip the same ladies and they never noticed. She told them that she was Baylie’s “Noni” and now they practically carry her laundry out to her car.

She’s also very handy at the doctor’s office. I broke down and went to the doctor last week for a sinus infection – but by the time I called I could either have an appointment in 20 minutes or in 2 days so I had to take the one in 20 minutes. Bay had just woken up for her nap and had eaten, but it’s always a little scary taking her somewhere when you don’t know how long you’re going to be there. She was an angel – she stood at the chair next to me and methodically took everything out of my purse and put it on the chair next to me, picked the things she liked (usually my wallet, it always makes me nervous) and then put back the things she didn’t like. Once word got around to the back office that there was a cute kiddo in the waiting room, we were called back where we then were paraded around to each of the nurses stations. We were taken to an examination room where a nurse came in immediately and asked me my symptoms in between questions on Bay. Then the doctor, same thing. And finally another nurse with medicine and shots (eesh!). We were in and out in 35 minutes. I’ve been literally dying and not made it out of that doctor’s office in less than 2 hours. Plus, I didn’t have to weigh myself and didn’t have to fill out the paperwork on health history because there wasn’t enough time. My step dad was in the same office a week later and when everyone found out he was Baylie’s “Pop”  they were all over him too.

The only poor service experience we’ve had together was 2 weeks ago. And looking back, I could see why a baby’s presence in this particular store may not have been welcome. Peter purchased a new shot-gun for a VERY early birthday present for himself. The stinking thing would not assemble correctly so I had to take it back to the store to have them look at it (why me? excellent question…). So there I am, baby and purse on one arm, 15 lb metal box containing gun parts under the other, walking into an outdoor man’s paradise. I ask someone where to go and they showed me the way – without taking the 4ft long, heavy box from me. Because I’m super mom I was able to manage, but jeeze. I get Mr.”Oh here honey, let me help your pretty little dumb self out with that” who instantly snaps the gun together and looks at me like I’ve asked him for a kidney when I ask him to disassemble it and then let me do it. All the while Bay is standing at my side waving to the random people walking around.  He also acted like I asked him for a ride home when I hinted I would just looove some help carrying the damn thing back to the car. Now, I know that this is awkward. I love nothing more than bringing my daughter to a store with guns, but we are doing this for my loving, hard working hubby damn it, help me out!

So if you need some help in the service department, I highly suggest borrowing your adorable niece, nephew, cute neighbor kid, etc. Dress them cute and watch the service improve for years to come!

Politics Shmolitics

This is not a political blog. I do not want it to be a political blog. I don’t even like politics, they make me want to nap. However, I do feel it necessary to address a few things so that my friends, family and other super smart readers of this blog understand that everyone living in Arizona is not insane. I am, however, being careful not to go on a full rant as I don’t want Sheriff Joe showing up on my front door step for making degrading remarks. I’m sure after my blog on the Terrorist Fund (what?! you didn’t read that one?? well you should!!) that I’m on some FBI watch list for using the “T” word too much…

If you decide at any point in this blog that you disagree with me, lets promise each other a few things: we will stay friends and we will never ever talk politics with each other.

I’m not really sure where to start. It seemed all was pretty ok here in the desert. Sure, we can’t balance the budget, the state is broke and the local economy is tanking, but these are normal things we deal with in a recession. Then all of a sudden, the clock rolled back to 1809 and we’re legalizing concealed weapons, stopping people because they are brown and making the president prove that he was born in America?? Did someone drink canal water or something?

Now, we are gun people. We own guns, we shoot guns, we respect guns. However I’m not sure why the legislature felt the need to legalize concealed weapons. People have always been allowed to have a concealed weapon with a permit – why do we need to throw that out the window? AND you could carry without a permit as long as you could see it. I’ve been to Bass Pro, I’ve seen the tough guys rolling around with a revolver on their hip – just in case some stuff starts to go down.. on a Sunday… in the fly fishing department…in Mesa. As long as the process was working (which it was because we have first hand knowledge of this process) why mess with it? Now we’re going to let any ya-hoo legally carry a gun we can’t see? Sure sure, someone already carries a gun that we can’t see without a permit. But do we really want to take away the ability to arrest a dangerous person for doing so?

I’m ignoring the “Birther Bill”. It’s too stupid to address and it’s embarrassing our state.

Lastly, the Immigration Bill. All I’m going to say is this – how does it not lead to racial profiling? What are the measures that should be used for just cause to stop someone and ask them to prove they are a citizen if you’re not looking at their skin color, language or culture? Is it the type of music they listen to? So if they are playing Kenny Chesney they are legal and if you’re listening to Pitbull you’re not??

Ok, I’ve had my rant. Again, this will most likely be the last time I’ll write something political, but I feel it had to be said. I just had to get the thought in people’s minds that not everyone in AZ agrees with the madness!

And if you disagree – write you’re own blog, but don’t stop reading mine. I have a dream of being Julie and Julia one day 😉