Pork: The One You Love

On Sunday I took four pork tenderloins out of the freezer for Sunday dinner.  Well who knew they wouldn't defrost until 9 that night?  So they became Monday dinner, slow cooking all day (in BBQ Sauce) in the crock pot.  But guess what?  Duncan doesn't like pulled pork!  And momma wasn't home for dinner, so only two people ate it.  So there's a ton left.  A TON.

Today I instructed my husband to conduct a pulled pork eating contest to get rid of the leftovers.  He said he would stop off and buy some Costanzo's Rolls. I told him "No, just pork. No sides, no buns, just pork."  Does he not get the point of a pulled pork eating contest? I'm not serving any sides! I don't want room taken up in their stomach by starch!  No slaw, no cornbread, no nothing.  You just eat the pulled pork until you can't eat anymore.  Then you puke and rally.

I'm telling you.  I gotta do everything!  I gotta announce the contest, then I gotta set the rules for the contest.

No rest for the wicked.

Kim Kardashian - a Girl with Morals

Oh Kim, it was so very sporting of you to finalize your divorce with Chris Humphries before you squirted out your baby with Kanye West. And I understand you not rushing to marry Kanye.  I mean, if you stayed in a marriage with Kanye as long as you stayed in it with Chris, you would most likely be moved out before the baby came.  And then things would just get messy.

You are obviously a girl of very high morals who values decency among all things.

Except for that whole sex tape thing, but who hasn't had one of those???

An Ode to Cucumbers

Gross.

An Ode to Dark Chocolate

Ick.

Phone Dependent Much?

I left work early yesterday to rest from a cold which has been kicking my a$$ since late Sunday night.  Before I settled in for a long afternoon slumber, I hauled over to Wegmans to pick up my necessary sicky supplies, which had all run low due to so much use early in the week.

After slamming my car door shut I reached into my left coat pocket to grab my phone and check in on FourSquare.  It wasn't there.  Wait, did I put it in the wrong pocket? Nope, not in the right pocket either. I got a sinking feeling. I walked back to the car to see if it was in the cup holder.  Nope. 

It slowly sunk in. 

I left it at work.

Shit. 

This means a whole 10 hours of NO CANDY CRUSH?? 

"What if it's not at work?" I worried in my head.  "I'll call them!"

I reach into my pocket AGAIN!

Umm....

OK I'll call them when I get home, first I get my supplies.  I head into Wegmans to pick up my chicken noodle soup, cough and vitamin C drops and Puff's with lotion. While heading back I cut through an aisle on the way to soup when the label on a can catches the corner of my eye. Heinz Spotted Dick. Oh, I need my phone to take a pic of this. I reach into my pocket.  DAMNIT! "Maybe it's in my purse?"  I look and look. No, not in the purse. Damnit, it really must be at work.

I wander over to the frozen food section thinking "I'll grab some ice cream, Perry's has a new No Sugar Added Flavor."  They didn't have it, so I said "Hmm, maybe I should tweet Perry's and Wegman's asking when they'll have it."

IDIOT ALERT LORI, you don't have your phone!!!!!

I wander past the meatballs, past the Puff Pastry, past the bulk, dejected.  I stumble upon the Easter candy. All half off. CADBURY MINI EGGS HALF OFF?  

"I gotta put this on FB so everyone can come here!"

GAHHHH.

Forget it, I'm almost done shopping, I'll cash out, go home and call work.

I had 7 items or less, so I'm golden.  Oh, not golden.  They had 3 express lanes, all of which had 5 people in them.  No problem right, you just pull out your phone to check FB to pass the time. No, you don't do that.  You stand there going "what if the phone isn't at work?  What if it's lost forever?  What ever will you do??"  Then you reach into your pocket for the 8th time in 12 minutes to see if maybe it is lower in the pocket than you reached before.  It's not.

I paid, I loaded the car, and returned my cart to the coral, happy I was going home to rest but sad my link to the outside world seemed to be torn from me.  I got in the car, picked one glove off my front seat and...

MY PHONE!!!!!!!

Oh how I have missed you!!!!!!!!  I will never, ever leave you on the seat again, EVER! I can't live without you!

So this big loss, all 12 minutes of it, got me thinking.  Am I the only one this dependent, this reliant on my phone?  I know the answer is no, because as I was wandering the frozen section I saw three other people staring at their phones like they were watching a porno and couldn't tear their eyes away for a second. So what was I doing BEFORE I had it?  You know, in that period I refer to as "The Dark Ages?" Was I looking at people and smiling?  Was I a better person? Am I really sharing things that pertinent when I tell everyone about Spotted Dick and Half Off Cadbury Mini Eggs? I like to think I am, but if I wasn't, would anyone notice?

I'm going to just tell myself the answer to that question, because the only answer I want to hear right now is "Yes, people NEED that information."  Otherwise the only one I have to blame for my phone reliance is me. This way I can say "I'm doing it for THEM!!!"  Who?  All 12 people who read my blog and my 302 followers on Twitter.  But let's be real.  Joey Lawrence "follows" me and Lord knows he ain't reading my shit. And half my Facebook friends probably have me on block cause they are tired of hearing about Little House on the Prairie and Lionel Richie.  But for now, I'm happy to live in my little bubble. The bubble where I tell myself you want to know about Mary getting the blindness, Manly having the stroke, and Carrie falling down the well.  Owait, no one gives a shit that Carrie fell in that well.

Carry on. Carry on.

Armagetthehelloutofhere

You know that movie Armageddon? You know what burns my ass?  That guy Chic is about to go into space, so he goes to see his son and his ex is all "you can't come around here, the courts say you can't." Then he saves the world and bitch comes to NASA to welcome him home?  Oh, so he's good enough for you to take his money each month (he works on an oil rig for God's sake, you know Harry Stamper is paying him well, they are BFFs, so you know he's sending support!)  But he's not good enough to see his own kid until he saves the planet?

Now if it were me, I'd be all "bitch, talk to the hand."

But Chic's too much of a good guy, of course he's happy to see the kid, then he hugs her too.

Then there's me on the couch "look at this bitch, who let her in, where's NASA security when you need it?"

As you can tell, I've thought about this a lot. Probably too much.  But it's one of my favorite movies, so I've seen it like 50 times.  Yet it still bothers me.  15 years later for crying out loud.

I need to let things go.

The Pope. Not just a Prince song.

Today, March 8, the Vatican had a special announcement!  The Conclave to elect a new Pope will begin Tuesday.

___________Record Scratch_____________ WHAAAAA???

Didn't the Pope tell us he was stepping down a month ago? Oh yes, look, there it is, Huffington Post tells me it was February 11th!  That his last day will be February 28th!  And oh, look, the Conclave to elect the new Pope is gonna start March 11th. 

The Fuck?????

People People People (at the Vatican.) I don't wanna tell you how to run your business.  And let's be real, it IS a business.  Ain't NO WAY you can tell me it's not, the way you want us to tithe each week.  But let's be real.  If the Man in Charge announces he's leaving, get off your fat asses, get to Rome ASAP and pick a new leader OK??  It's not hard.  There are hundreds of flights to Rome each day.  Savannah Guthrie got there in time to say Ciao to Benedict.  And you're telling me the Cardinals making up the Conclave couldn't get there for a MONTH?  A MONTH? And don't start in on that shit about February being a short month.  Even the Cardinals from the far reaches of the Earth could have started their journey in time to get there in a timely fashion.  Announcement comes Feb. 11.  Cardinals book flights Feb. 12.  The ones who live in their fancy houses in the boondocks can't catch one til Feb 15 (they gotta travel by gold plated wagon to the nearest municipal airport, then take a small charter plane to the bigger airport. I know how it goes.)  OK, that puts you into Rome by what, Feb. 17?  Pope's doing his last minute Pope stuff, giving out the blessings, burning the secret documents, packing up "his" jewelry.  Conclave sits down to a buffet, makes jokes about fishes and loaves, you know, normal stuff.  They go over the CV's, have the discussion, make the smoke.  BOOM. Decision made.  Fast forward to the next week when the Pope finishes up and bam, you announce the new pope.

But here's what REALLY happened.

Announcement: Pope's stepping down.

Fat Cardinal 1: Oh, I gotta get a flight to Rome. Damn, I'm not gonna miss all-you-can-eat Crab Leg night at Joe's am I??
Fat Cardinal 2: What did he do????
Fat Cardinal 3: Oh I'm totally gonna win this time.

And so on, and so on.

10 days later they are like "Oh schnikey's, all the flights to Rome are sold out."

That's the only explanation I can come up with.  That, or much like our government, they have their heads up their proverbial asses and must not "get" that when your leader steps down, you need someone else to step up.  If not, you know what happens? I'll tell you!

People like me declare themselves the Interim Pope and make rules that the Catholics don't like.

So far, I've already lifted the meat ban, told the Gays they are welcome and cancelled Spring Forward.  Next up, every sentence must contain a bad swear.

Vatican, do you want this to continue?  Then step up.  Get your shit together, pull some strings and get the people in line.  If some of the Cardinals are late, tough nuts. You snooze you lose. You know what happens when you have one job to do and you show up late? You lose that job! Sorry, Charlie.  NEXT!!!!!!!

REAL Band-Aids?? Giggety!

Picture it. August 25, 2012.  I participate in my first race, the Tops 5K, and get two giant boxes of Band-Aids in the goody bag. Me and my cousins lament the fact that we wouldn't have to buy Band-Aids for a very long time.

And here we are today, March 1, 2013.  Here is a text conversation between me and Paul:

Paul: We need more Band-Aids, Jessica cut her foot.

Me: We are the only house I know that could go through 100 Band-Aids in 5 months.  There are a few giant sized ones under the sink, she can use that in a pinch.

Paul: Sink. Got it. OK, she's patched up.  Are we going out at all tonight?

Me: Yeah, we need Band-Aids.


I still don't know where they all went.  Wouldn't you think 100 Band-Aids would last forever? I know a lot of them were ruined when Paul dropped a box of them into the sink when he was shaving. (I walked into the bathroom to find Band-Aids laying all along the counter like some sort of crazy recycling ER wing.)  And of course, thinking we had SO MANY more in the wings I said "Oh we don't need to dry those out, throw them away, we have plenty more, remember the RACE Band-Aids?" Pfft.  How stupid I was. Cause you know what's happening now.  The Allans are going generic.  Bandages (NOT Band-Aids), here we come!

So question for all you moms and dads.  Are your houses the same? Or do you have "normal" bandage use?

No Encore for Old Ladies

I asked around for some good Happy Hour spots for a Friday Night and received some great suggestions.  One of which was Encore.  I think that would be fantastic except for one thing.  Encore is the old Hemingways.  Oh, Hemingways, how I miss thee!  I remember your delicious Friday Fish Fry!  I remember your mac & cheese that came with the delicious Friday Fish Fry! I remember coming to you in a dismal state the day after George Bush was re-elected to office and drowning my sorrows in your delicious French fries.  And I remember when you closed and I said to myself "where will I go when I need a Fish Fry?" I know, I know, you say "This is Western New York, you can get a Fish Fry anywhere."  It's just not the same!  I don't have the sweet memories at just any other place. So Hemingways, this one's for you.  Know that you are missed.

Candy Crush Saga

If I had the option to put a tag line under my headline it would be 'Sent from the devil.'

A few weeks back I got an instant message from a friend asking if I played this game. I said no. She said I should try it, "it's fun."

Obviously that friend did not care about me as much as I thought she did.

This game is torture. Torture. It's free to download. It gives you five lives to start. You use those in 15 seconds (OK maybe 10 minutes) and then have 3 options. Buy more, ask your friends for more lives, or wait. Well F that stain, we know waiting isn't an option. And Lord knows I'm too cheap to buy them. So I beg. And beg. My life has been reduced to working, making dinners, drinking coffee and begging my Facebook friends for lives in Candy Crush. It sucks ass. And sometimes no number of lives help. You'll get a level that you play over and over. You'll come close, this close, to winning. Then you run out of moves and scream at your computer screen (or I'm my case, your phone) "I hate you!!!!" One level I played so many times I finally backed down and paid 99 cents for 5 extra moves. Then I did that again. And again. So now I'm down $5, my house is a mess, my mail isn't sorted and I am so addicted to this game I play it everywhere. Yes, even on the toilet. Don't you judge me!!!!!

The only comfort is knowing I'm not the only one. A bright spot in all this is that my bestie and I are in the same boat. We text daily about how much it sucks and how we need lives or tickets to unlock the next episode. We could stop playing, yes, but well, that's not an option. We are addicts.

The moral? Don't start playing this game. Your budding ulcer will thank you. If you must start, get your bestie to play too, so you will have someone to commiserate with. And so that you'll both shorten your lives the same amount so you can go to heaven at the same time.

Same Old Song and Dance

I'm always looking for a new and exciting way to send my family's holiday greeting.  Thankfully I have this card as inspiration for this year.

Now does anyone have a ram I can borrow? You might not get it back, although Caramel's teeth aren't as sharp as this, um, WTF is that, a cougar?

Also, I'm gonna need someone about my age so we can duplicate this card, with the two moms.  Little help?

Actual Conversation

The following is an actual conversation which took place yesterday:

My boss: Lori, I'm gonna give you $100.
Me: OMG, that's so nice of you!
My boss: Well I'm gonna need it back, this is is how I want it, 2 - 20s, 4 - 10s and 4 - 5's.
Me:  (No response, except the wrinkling of my face in a WTF look.)

JB and LORI, a Parting of the Ways

I'm over Bieber. 

Remember when I had the fever, and I was all "baby, baby, baby, oh, like baby, baby, baby, no!" And then I was all "When I was 13, I had my first love."  Then I was even "I will never say never." 

And then that little bastard had to show his ass.

Acting all cocky on the Today Show hijacking Matt Lauer's Twitter page.

Tweeting while he had the little handicapped girl on his lap, of course he acted like he wasn't once he saw the cameras rolling but we know the truth JB!

The final injustice was him calling 911 to report he was being "followed" by 5 cars, when he had gotten pulled over for driving his CHROME car like a maniac on the streets of LA.  From what I've heard of LA, they have enough troubles with people driving normal, they don't need your 19-year old punk ass driving your CHROME car like a total toolbag. People have families you know! 

So it's official. I'm over Bieber.  You know it's official when I say this.  I stopped following him on Twitter. 

BELIEVE this Biebs!

They say it best

Where do the Libyans live? Here!

Spring ahead my ass

See what has happened? I lost an hour, now it's 4:53 and it's too late for me to take my Sunday afternoon nap. Bullshit I tell you!!!! Bullshit!!!

Actual email I just received.

So every once in a while I get an email that really gives me a good laugh.  Today is one of those days.

Just received this:

Did you hear Snooki is pregnant? Maybe the Mayans are right and this is the end of days.

My man is back!!

Last night he informed me that he had a 'Desert booger.'

God, I missed him.

Longest Week Ever

Some of you may know that Paul is away on business this weekend. Here lies Lori, taking the kids everywhere and making dinners (insert violin music here) while he's "working" at the 4-star resort in sunny Phoenix, AZ (insert violin music here).  I think he thought I'd feel better last night when he informed me that he was "tired and wanted to come home."  I almost felt better, but he's is in a hotel where they make his bed, clean his bathroom, wipe his ass, pick up his towels off the ground, etc., where I'm all driving J to school and waking up at the ass crack of dawn for Mamo-fun.  Did I mention I have a meeting until 8 tonight, then I have to pick Paul up from the airport, then I have to bake cookies for a meeting at 8:30 tomorrow? Oh the humanity. Oh wail, wail is the work of the mother-of-the-year ever done?

(Yes, I'm joking.)

Since the week has been all out of whack, I've been finding myself extremely tired.  Just last night I wondered "is it normal to barely make it through the Wheel of Fortune before wanting to crawl into bed?"  I persevered of course. I mean, go to bed before the kids? That's crazy talk. So I went at 9:30 after watching what I found to be a disappointing Modern Family. 

Where we are at now is me counting down the days until I can sleep in again.  Or take a nap.  I don't forsee it happening this weekend as I have a baby shower, then Duncan's b-day party (13, woot woot), and on Sunday I'm taking my mom to the casino (someone has to picket it right?)  Paul has a great weekend of fun ahead of him too.  I have a small list (read: scroll) of things for him to do Saturday morning. 

Big Day in Car Land

At least for me. After close to two years of ownership, my little girl finally hit 17,000 miles! Please - a moment of silence.