It covers a lot. If my lengthy ramblings/rantings bother you, don’t read it.

Today is the birthday of my friend,”Karen the Librarian”. To honor the occasion we threw her a surprise birthday party last night with a ninja theme. Karen really, really digs Ninja’s for some reason. I’m just going to put the photos throughout this post, even though the text may not relate. First things first, though. Thank you for your emails. A lot of them really helped (A few didn’t, but that’s life.) I will answer them as soon as I can.

I know I unsettled some of you with my vitriolic girl-spew at Disneyland and my spew of life suck yesterday. I probably didn’t do a good job of explaining. I think I am just crazy hormonal, sleep deprived and stressed out.

I have a hella three weeks I have to get through and I don’t know how I’m going to.

I leave early Friday to drive 6 hours with my mom to a family reunion that causes me great anxiety and that I do not want to attend and yet am. I won’t get back from there until the night before the huge annual party Jon and I throw for the 4th, I have a trip to Salt Lake on the 7th (Which I am actually looking forward to), Christopher’s birthday party on the 12th and another freaking reunion on the weekend of the 13th.

I just want to put my head down and cry and cry thinking about everything and don’t know how on earth I’m going to get the mountain of things associated with each of these things done. Normally, I could probably do all of this without batting an eye, but I am so out of whack and anxious I just can’t seem to get it together and cope.

Take yesterday:

Between washing and putting everything away after vacation, our air conditioner breaking down, and trying to plan and execute this party, I was a basket case.

Things reached a boiling point of epic proportions when the cable guy showed up at my house.

When I saw his truck pulling up I dimly remembered Jon saying about two weeks ago that he was having the DVR in our bedroom replaced and a new VOIP service bundled in with our cable. I ran into the bedroom, ripped out the box and ran to the door so that the cable guy wouldn’t see the piles of bra’s and panties and packets of maxi pads and tampons in my bedroom. It was going to be bad enough having him in my house at all.

I need to explain. I do not do well with strangers in my house. DO.NOT.DO.WELL. I barely answer the door for people I know, let alone people I don’t. Bizarre, I know. But, I was raised to be very self conscious about the state of my house, and this is by people who were really great house keepers. I kinda suck at it so the anxiety of anyone SEEING the clutter of my stuff about pushes me over the edge. AND I had stuff from my trip everywhere trying to get it put away. I literally broke out into a sweat.

IT DID NOT HELP WHEN HE ASKED TO USE MY BATHROOM.

After that he was done (AND DID NOT WASH HIS ALREADY DIRTY HANDS) he put his hand on my bedroom door.

“No! You can’t go in there!”

“I have to, Ma’am. It’s where your DVR is going to be set up and it’s policy. The box won’t work correctly if I don’t install it and then call it in.”

“Well, it’s MY policy that you do not see the underwear and panties that I have flung all over my bedroom. Sorry. Just take your form and write on there “Customer did not want stranger cable guy to view personal undergarments and period paraphernalia!“”

Yes. It was really that bad.

After he went down to the basement to hook up the phone, I called my friend Mary Ellen, to come help me assemble stuff for the party and to ensure that I didn’t freak out on the poor guy anymore. Then I called my friend, Brian.

There is something you need to know about Brian. I love him dearly, but for some reason, whenever I am way hormonal (ie-On my period or pregnant) there will be times when he is sitting there doing nothing offensive and I will just want to smack him upside the head with a baseball bat. I have no idea why, but his usually endearing habits make me want to rip my hair out. We often joke about it and as a result, Brian is usually keenly aware of it being “That time of the month”.

Brian answered the phone in his usual way:

“Hello-o-o-o-o-o-o?”

“Hey, Brian.”

“Hello-o-o-o-o-o-o?”

“Ha, ha. Brian. Seriously, I have a question.”

“Hello-o-o-o-o-o-o?”

“Ok, Brian. You need to know that I am having my period. A really BAD period. So you know that baseball bat that I usually threaten to smite you with? Yah, it isn’t a baseball bat at this point. It’s much, much worse than that. You know why they never found weapons of mass destruction in Iraq? It is because THEY ARE ALL IN MY VAGINA AND RIGHT NOW IT IS AIMED AT YOU!!”

“That would probably sound a whole lot more appealing if I wasn’t gay.”

“I doubt it.”

Mary Ellen and I finished prepping for the gathering.

Usually for these functions I work with Michelle and we are one mean, lean, party throwing machine. This time, Michelle is in Tahiti with her husband. Thankfully she did loads of leg work and purchasing of decorations before she left. My very favorite are the NINJA RUBBER DUCKIES!!!! (There is one on the plate) So freaking cute.

Our plan was awesome. Karen and I clean my husband’s office building three times a week (M,W,F) so the plan was simple. We would set everything up in the cafeteria and just wait for her to come empty the trash.

It totally worked.

We ate, played “Ninja Bingo” and then went into the big auditorium to watch “Spirited Away” on the big movie screen. Mary Ellen was really sick and had to be to work by 7 am and I was freaking exhausted, so we bowed out half way through and left around 11. I now HAVE to see the rest of the movie to see if the parents ever got rescued from being pigs. Sigh.

At least everyone had a great time and Karen was totally surprised (Though not thrilled to be caught in her “Cleaning Clothing”).

I got a solid twelve hours of sleep which I really needed and feel somewhat better. At least I know I’m not going to go postal on unsuspecting cable guys. I just have to worry about how in the hell I am going to survive the next three weeks.

I have to go pack for the family reunion.
Suck a duck.