coffeebot coffeebot

thoughts icon Twenty-Twelve

I can’t believe it’s February, already. No, wait. I can’t believe it’s been two years since I’ve written a blog post. Dang. I specifically blame the toddler and cats.


thoughts icon Ass-Kicking Cheerleader

Sixteen-some years ago (give or take a few, because my simple math skills suck), I met this girl. I thought she was cute and all, but to be honest, I was a little turned off because she started hitting on me before we had memorized one another’s names. Okay, before I could remember her name (she memorized the previous year’s yearbook). For the record, her name was Candace. In any case, it wasn’t until a dare that we ended up dating. Yes, a dare. Though, let’s be honest: neither of us felt forced into it.


thoughts icon A Pair of Surprises

So, January has brought with it a few interesting developments. I’ll tackle the more believable one, first.

For Christmas, my Secret Santa* at work gave me an Amazon gift certificate. In the weeks preceding, I had taken with the idea of trying my hand at knitting and crocheting. But, with our funds in a crunch, I couldn’t justify the purchase of tools that I might never use (I know, i know…needles and yarn are cheap; but still, strapped is strapped). A gift certificate is like free money, and there wasn’t anything at the Big-A that I wanted, so I indulged in some knitting needles, yarn, and a crochet hook.


thoughts icon That is YOUR Daughter

Last night, while I was playing with Cate before we all went out for dinner, I noticed her carrying around random articles of clothing. Dirty stuff. The stuff we cast aside before bedtime and we’re too tired to accurately hit the hamper (or even care to try). I also noticed that, hey, these things aren’t coming back! So I tailed the little monster to see where she was taking my socks.


thoughts icon cat

Candace gets to post cute stories about Cate, Christmas Trees and photo shoots.

I can’t even send an instant message because I have a fourteen pound monstrosity trying to drink and/or spill my chocolate milk.

Hon, remind me why we got a cat, again?