I just bribed my children with Blendinis from Rita’s to pick up the obscene amount of toys they left all over the house today. I’m not sure what chapter of the Parenting Mistakes You Will Live to Regret handbook covers this but I’m certain it’s in there….

Tuesday was my husband’s 40th birthday. We were supposed to throw a big party this weekend but I’ll tell you a little secret… *stage whispers* I really don’t want to have a party. That means we would have to fix our stupid  low-flow toilet which will cost a small fortune, so we just…haven’t. That’s  kind of a dealbreaker if you’re gonna have a ton of potentially drunk people at your house, right? I mean there’s no way a drunk person could remember to flush the toilet, like,  four times. And frankly, I don’t need to be judged on my toilet issues right now. Or ever.

Also, I would have to clean extensively. I think I’ve already established in previous posts that I will do no such thing —especially since I’d have to clean it all AGAIN the next day. And? I never have fun at parties I’m hosting. NEVER.

I’m thinking since the Superbowl is this weekend, we’ll probably have a get-together out someplace that has a properly functioning toilet. Or two. This will probably happen after BlissDom which is next weekend. (Yes, despite the fact that I am neither blissful nor domestic, I’m going. Please find me and introduce yourself. I don’t bite but I might lick you if you smell really good. Whaaa? Is that a problem?)

So anyway, thinking that I would be expending tons of money and time on a party for the huz, I didn’t go ALL OUT for the huz’s birthday but it was nice… I made a kick-ass dinner (rare around here), baked an awesome triple chocolate cake and got him a few nifty things…one of which is this t-shirt. It’s so him.

I also got us him a French Press. Why didn’t anyone ever tell me how much BETTER coffee tastes when you make it in one those? Really, internet…I thought we were sympatico, that you would never keep such important things from me. You disappoint me *sigh*

Check out this awesome pic of President Obama lookin’ all cool and GQ on Inauguration Night!

The only things missing are sharp shiny objects. Watch at your own risk. (Hat tip to Apryl)

One of my numerous New Years Resolutions:
To get more organized—not just with my stuff but in the management of my time (this should probably include not screwing around on the internet so much, yes?) and the running of my household (I know…so lame)

Current Resolution Status:
For three weeks I’ve been rolling this stuff around in my head, trying to make sense of just what it is I want to accomplish and also, more recently, to assess what I’ve accomplished thus far. Well, heh, that second part is gonna be a preeeeety short paragraph because right now, I have more excuses than progress to report. (See? See? Another psychological roadblock to actually getting stuff done…the old “I already know I suck at this, so no need to document” excuse. Gah. I really DO suck at this.)

Ohhh man. This is too hard. Maybe a nap and then we write? Yes? Pleeease?

No? *sigh*

Okay, I’ve been busying myself (because, you know, I have sooo much time to fill and not nearly enough tasks) with reading articles on the internet (THE SOURCE OF ALL KNOWLEDGE AND WISDOM) about getting organized, staying organized, and fighting clutter.

The problem? These articles are so…dry. So fact-filled. So utilitarian. So designed-to-actually-help. BLEH! There’s nothing sexy about decluttering in ANY of them. No earth-shatteringly easy secrets to organization that I could employ without even trying, either. And frankly? A distinct lack of of cute acronyms that I could actually remember in the heat of a clutter battle. Who writes this crap?

So yeah, I’ve been on this semi-passive quest for the holy grail of self-help materials; the quest for THE PLAN that will work best for me. That’s lazy person code for…the plan for which I have to merely breathe and be upright in order to execute effectively. As noted, I’m not having much luck—my life is still not organized, my time is still being squandered and frankly, all this domesticity is killing me.

I don’t know how all those Blissfully Domestic folks do it. The more I try to be pro-active and get caught up and be on the ball about stuff and just…DO…all the crap I was probably supposed to be doing anyway, the more made-of-suck I think this whole resolution idea is.

There has GOT to be a better way. But if anyone suggests a cleaning lady or a life coach, I might have to reach across the internet and pistol-whip you. And don’t think I can’t. We’re very high tech around here…

PS: Do men worry about this crap????

PPS: Please share your best get-your-life-and-stuff-under-control advice in the comments. Also feel free to share what DID NOT work for you.

I know how you feel, Mr. President. I’m pretty fricken stoked, too.

I really wanted to write something thought-provoking and heartfelt about today but really, it’s all been said already—by every talking head on TV, by every person interviewed and all over the internet. So…I’m just going to keep it short and sweet and say that I’m trés excited and hopeful and extremely proud of our country today.

(UPDATE: If the comments on this site are any indication, women everywhere are crushin’ hard on the Prez. Thanks to Musing for the awesome link!)

We can now exhale as the end of the Bush Inc. is FINALLY upon us. For a recap of the past eight years in eight minutes, go to Red Stapler and watch the video. If your head doesn’t explode halfway through, I’ll be surprised because mine certainly did. How I’m able to type this with no head is one of life’s great mysteries; a miracle, if you will…

I remember hearing awhile back that Disney’s squeaky clean teen queen Miley Cyrus had declared herself a virgin and intended to remain one until marriage. I think it was when she was seeing one of the less fortunate Jonas Brothers.

But then I saw a picture of Miley’s current boyfriend, 20 yr old model Justin Gaston, and I had to laugh a little about that very public pledge. I have nothing against virginity but COME ON!

He’s TWENTY…and to put it delicately, he’s NO Jonas Brother.

I’m just sayin…

Tagline. Notice I don’t have one. I mean it’s not like a requirement or anything but sometimes it can help illuminate a bit about the author.

So…in keeping with the caffeine/coffee/I-stay-up-way-too-late thing that is the inspiration for this blog’s name, I started mentally toying with taglines.

Best one yet:

Always Up. Always Hot.

lololololol

I crack myself up.

What? Think you can do better?

There’s the moment you can tell someone is gonna hurl all over you and the moment they actually do. In between those two moments is that period where everything happens in superrrrr-slowwwww motionnnnn and you can do nothing but watch as your youngest projectile vomits all over you, your bed AND your favorite flat pillow that’s taken years to get just right.

This isn’t the first time that’s happened. Or the second. You’d think I would have learned by now to DO SOMETHING—or at least get out of the way.

And now he wants to eat cookies and go to the park because he feels SO! MUCH! BETTER!

I want a do-over.

We’re really not God haters or anything but I do have some issues with organized religion. To clarify, I’m not an atheist but I feel the institutions that commonly interpret and dispense the big guy’s “word” are so flawed that I just cannot, in good conscience, sit in a church and pretend like I’m down with it.

That said, I have tried to impart my own theological and religious philosophies to my daughter while elucidating what it is I cannot abide with organized religions.

Today at the bookstore, she picked out a calendar for herself that was filled with cute pictures of puppies and kitties and I noticed when we got home that each image had some Bible scripture featured on it.

I didn’t say anything about it but later she notices them, too, and starts reading them aloud and kind of musing over each one; deeming them as either making sense or not making sense—remember, she’s eight.

A few minutes later, an ant crawled across her calendar and she says loudly, “You better get outta here, bug, or the Lord’s gonna eat ya!”

I still don’t know the impetus for that statement but I laughed.  A lot.

Good thing I don’t believe in hell :)

——

Edited to Add:

Just some further clarification…

Church is great for those that dig it but I’m just one of them—I just can’t go along with people interpreting the word of God to suit their agendas and the agendas of their institution.

I mean come on…does God REALLY hate homosexuals?

Does God REALLY think women are not equal to men? That a woman should be subservient to her husband?

Does God REALLY believe man has dominion over the earth and thus we can treat it and all it’s non-human inhabitants however we wish?

The hypocrisy. The judgment. The groupthink… I just can’t do it.

I feel strongly that I can partake in everything God has to offer without ever again setting foot in an institution of organized religion. That is all :)

Last night, as I was searching in vain for a Twitter app for Facebook that actually works worth a crap (because NONE of them do) I came across someone gushing about Twitter and how it has rendered blogs all stone-agey and shit and how we don’t need them anymore because Twitter gives us, apparently, the ability to both express ourselves AND learn to be masters of brevity who don’t ramble or compose those self indulgent run-on sentences that people are so prone to in blogging. Ahem.

I didn’t think about it much at the time other than to figuratively throw my head back and laugh at the foolishness but this morning, as I was waking up ‘ye olde electronic box to which I am sadly addicted’, I was struck with fear…

What if that person was right? Are blogs now obsolete? When I consider how much time some people spend on Twitter (not me, of course) and what a huge steaming pile of entertaining timesuck it is, it does make this idea of writing actual paragraphs seem, I don’t know…a little quaint.

Oh, oh—and what about all the times you were going to blog about something but you went ahead and blew your fodder wad on Twitter instead? I’m NOT the only one who’s done that, right?

Yeah, you save up all these “very important thoughts” in that section of your brain reserved for potential blog compositions and then whamm-o! You’re suddenly struck with some nasty Twitterrhea of the keyboard and before you know it, you’ve totally liquidated your assets, opting for quick links and throwaway quips in 140 characters or less.

But then when  it’s over? You feel like you just rolled in from a one-night stand, reeking of regret for having chosen the cheap thrills and immediate gratification of Twitter and wishing you’d saved it for your faithful old blog that you’re not quite ready to quit yet. *sigh*

Discuss.

Gossip Girl watchers, come out, come out, wherever you are! In exchange, I offer you this exceedingly hot Blair/Nate clip (when he still thought she was all virgin-y and stuff) in honor of the three week Christmas pimp-out being officially over.

I’ve done this enough times to already know the first post is always the hardest. The first post? Is the one that will define you for the rest of your natural born life and so it BETTER be good, dammit! However, seeing as it’s just a post on a blog that maybe fifteen people will be reading, the pressure is minimal.

And really, I could be regaling you with this list of obscure sexual terms/definitions that I very innocently stumbled across the other day. Seriously NASTY stuff on that list… You just think about that before you judge too harshly, k?