Sprite's Keeper

Journey to The Dark Side (Come on, you know you want to..)

Something astonishing has happened over the last couple of weeks. John has been taking time off of World of Warcraft.

(I'll pause here to let it sink in. I know. I'm still a little dazed.)

I didn't know if the reason behind this sudden stall in gaming was the new job, or the fact that he's been a little under the weather lately, or the lunar cycles. And then I questioned his recent interest in joining me in my alone time long before his 10PM curfew.

"Well, I don't know. I'm not feeling all that well and it takes a lot of skill and concentration to play."

"Yes, yes, I understand that. Walking and dying can be taxing on your fingers. Cut the crap. Why aren't you playing so much anymore?"

(Pause)

"Well..."

"Why aren't you joining any raids?"

"I'm not playing so much with those guys anymore."

"Why?"

"Because their skill levels are much higher than mine and..."

"And?"

"Well..."

"What, they don't want to play with you anymore?"

John rolled his eyes. "Not exactly. They want me to practice and go do a few quests on my own and then I should be able-"

I couldn't stop the laugh that escaped my mouth. "They threw you out of the guild?"

Silence. (Oh, damn, was this going to be a milk-n-cookie heart-to-heart moment?)

"So, are you practicing?"

"Jen, it's boring when you're doing it on your own and the only people to partner with are either lowbies or kids."

(Lowbies. I like that. Like newbies, but not new. Just low. Oh, sorry, back to the conversation.)

I thought of something. "Why don't you play with Justin?" (Another WoW friend.)

"He's a bad guy."

"So? Be a bad guy."

John shook his head. "No, that wouldn't work. If the guild found out I had a bad character, they would flip out."

"So, don't tell them you're a bad guy." Ooh, idea! "AND, hide your identity, find out where they are, and attack 'em! You know their skills and maneuvers, easy kills!" (I still can't believe we had this conversation.)

John actually seemed to consider this. So, I kept going.

"Can you be both characters at the same time?"

"I would have to have two accounts to do that."

"So, get yourself another account so you can be in both places at once, like a mole! You know, go all 24 on their ass!"

John started laughing. "Don't you think they'll question why I'm the only one not getting killed?"

"Nah, they'll be too busy dying to notice you're still standing. Then you can collect all their crap and flee like the evil bad ass you are."

John looked a little surprised that I was actually encouraging him to foray deeper into the abyss that is World of Warcraft, but this conversation taught me a few lessons:

1. I actually enjoy my time alone and John's interest in joining me for my alone time is not conducive to my alone time. (Redundant much?)

2. I want John to be able to have his creative outlet and therefore I will continue to encourage that outlet even if the outlet is plugged into the World of Warcraft server.

3. I need to work on my milk-n-cookie heart-to-heart moments and try not to suggest revenge as a solution to problems.

4. Milk-n-cookie heart-to-heart moments are not just between parent and child, I guess, proof evident in the above conversation.

5. Sometimes, it's good to be bad. (Oh, yeah...)

I haven't asked John since this conversation whether or not he would actually go through with it and he was playing the game last night, but I didn't ask if his character was a good witch or a bad witch.

My guess is that he's still a good witch, because he was dying a lot.

And in the World of Warcraft, only the good die often.

(Yes, I know that was a Billy Joel song, but I changed it to suit my needs. My blog, mine!)

Totally Random

John came into the bedroom as I was putting away clothes. Sprite was already down for the night.

"I think I'm coming down with the same thing Sprite has," he said, rubbing at his head.

I stopped folding a towel. "You're teething too?"

It Was Hungry Like One Too..

I hate spiders.

bdjskdlojs  

Sorry, I got the creepy feeling and my fingers spazzed.

It has been raining for 2 straight days in my little Western corner of Florida and the office building I work in is old. Really old. Old enough that words like "yonder" and "ayuh" were tossed around during the construction of this building. Horses were used. Barns were raised. Old.

Anyway, the rains have been flooding our office with drips from the holes in the ceiling as people have been rushing in to escape the drops. And other things have been coming in to escape the weather as well.

We found a roach in the women's restroom yesterday. It was already dead, but still big enough to elicit a scream from all who entered. The entire afternoon was dotted with shrieks coming from the hallway and false alarms. I don't like roaches, but they're not my big problem.

This morning, my problem decided to come in.

A huge wolf spider decided to make its appearance known to my coworker who shares a common cubicle wall with me. She freaked out and enlisted the only man in our office (at the time) to help her get rid of this pest.

Unfortunately, the plan they concocted was not in tune with the spider's motives.

Their plan was to kill it. His plan was to live.

So, he left her area and came over to mine.

(Insert shrieks and mayhem here.)

I fled the immediate area and hopped around, convinced somehow that the wolf spider was able to transport itself from the wall of my cubicle to my body now about 20 feet away and was now on my back, no- my hair, no- wait, I feel something on my leg! djeoirfhyl;iokbdeqkjcv

Sorry, I'm getting the heeby-jeebies just thinking about it again.

So, our resident knight with the paper towel roll somehow coerced the wolf spider back to the other side of wall and subjected it to a mercy killing. Well, more of a Downy killing. (At least it was sponsored by Downy.) (It's the Quicker Spider Killer.)

Ever since, the females of this office have been a little weary of their cubicles, convinced the spider's relatives were just beyond their areas of sight and out for revenge, and the one male has been walking around with his shoulders puffed out, convinced he is God's gift to, well, pest control.

(I guess I should be glad it wasn't one of those mama spiders with all the babies on her back that scatter into a million different directions when you splat Mommy Dearest with a shoe. SPOASGFIUJVGBK- Sorry.)

(Another apology for the Duran Duran reference in the title. I couldn't resist. Dude, I'm getting old.)

It Ends With Cheese

My sister and nephew were over for the holiday weekend, sharing a spaghetti dinner with John, me, and the noodle flinging blob of sauce formally known as Sprite.

A bug (house fly) (Latin origin unknown, and I am so not looking it up, people) (All right, fine, the Latin name is probably DOMESTICUS IRRITATINGUS, happy?) had somehow gotten into the house and was buzzing around our table, either to try to partake of the meal we were enjoying or perhaps trying to warn everyone else about my cooking and the possible stomach endeavors to follow. Either way, it was annoying, but it did set off a sequence of events never played out in my home before:

Bryan: "Kill the bug!"

Lee Ann: "Bryan, eat your spaghetti."

John:"Where is my fly swatter?"

Sprite:"Nummy."

Bryan: "I can't eat. The bug keeps coming close. It's gonna touch my food."

John: "Seriously, where the hell is my fly swatter?"

Bryan:"Why do we have bugs anyway? They're not good for anything."

Me: "That's not true."

Sprite: "Eat."

Bryan: "Why?"

Oh, crap. He called my bluff. Um.... My mind could not pull up an answer.

Me: "Ask your mom."

Lee shot me a look across the table and then gave an appropriate response. How are we related?

Lee: "All bugs have a purpose here. Either as food for other animals or to help keep the system in order. Every bug has a reason to live."

John: "Except this one." The bug swooped in to pause over his plate and John tried to slap at it.

Swing and a miss.

Me: "This bug is good for nothing, therefore this bug MUST DIE."

Bryan (laughing): "Die!"

Lee: "Jenny..."

Seriously, how are we related?

Bryan: "I don't want this bug near my food!"

Sprite: "Boo!"

Me: "Sprite, stop teasing the dogs."

Bryan: "Go away, bug!"

The bug came to rest in the middle of the table. Sprite threw her handful of noodles to the floor, narrowly missing the beagle. John grabbed the bag of shredded cheese.

Bryan: "Kill it!"

Lee: "Bryan, lower your voice!"

Me: "Sprite, no!"

Sprite: "All done!"

John: "It ends here."

His arm arced in the air and the bag of cheese aimed for the bug.

SWAT!

Working for a Living

I never thought my job would be reduced to this.

My taboo subject is usually anything job related. Not because I have nothing to rant about, but because I don't want some touchy feely yahoo to get insulted and get me fired for spilling some big corporate secret.

I work in Claims. That's vague enough, but should help lend a little explanation as to what I'm about to rant about.

My job involves investigating claims and securing pictures of anything involved with it to confirm the validation for paying said claims. Good? Good. I've been doing this for 6 years and have seen a lot in my time here.

Today, I had to take a picture of a stain on the road.

That's right. I had to get up close and personal with the pavement. With the varying degrees of angles and positions I had to assume to capture my subject correctly, I'm surprised I wasn't arrested. (I assume from the various looks I received that I was pitied, but that's not a shocker.)

"Hey, Asphalt. Smile!"

This is not the worst of it though.

I once had to take a picture of a smell.

A smell.

You think I'm kidding?

I remember driving to the location, unsure about my directions, wondering how in all that's possible I could document a smell on film, since a picture is typically all the proof you need in Claims, right?

Should I take a self-portrait of me smelling the fumes, making sure to look like I'm about to lose my lunch?

Should I draw stink lines on my processed pictures?

How do you capture STANK on 35mm?

I typically like my job, but when these assignments sometimes come down the pike, I have to throw my hands up to the heavens and ask, "Seriously?"

How about you? Any current assignments or past jobs that had you shaking your head and wondering if you should examine what your position REALLY entails?

Make me smile while I scrub the pavement residue from my slacks.

Tag, I'm It.

Welcome to the Blog version of chain mail. (Shut up, Susan.)

I have to say that since Susan and I have an ongoing joke/war about her constantly forwarding me the emails that end in "send this to 50 people or you'll be hit by a bus". So, Susan, I'm sorry for going back on my pledge to never ever respond to one of these things.

And I'm really sorry to have to contradict my set ways, but Kirsten over at My Life For The World To See tagged me and I tend to liken those to double dog dares. (Unless it involves sticking my tongue against a cold pole. Even I'm not that dumb... And it only took one time to make up my mind on that one.)

So here we go:

All Things Eight (Because Eight is Always Enough):

Eight Things I'm Passionate About:

1. The kid. She taught me at a very early age the meaning of life. (Yes, she's that good.)

2. The Geek. The first time I spoke to him on the phone and heard his voice, I knew I had to keep him. Then I met John. ( Sometimes I crack myself up..)

3. Food. A major passion which is why I'm passionate about Number 4.

4. The Nord. My treadmill has seen me through 2 rounds of weight loss and I love/hate him with all my heart.

5. The Environment. This blog is paperless, is it not?

6. Irony. I'm always finding it in everything I do and say and am and..yeah..

7. My family. It really should be up there under the kid and the geek, but I'm not feeling like rearranging, so Mom will most likely give me a guilt trip on this one.

8. OCD. (The fact that this list is only 8 items long is making me a little twitchy.)

Eight Things I'd Like to do Before I die:

1. See my daughter blissfully happy in love and life.

2. Go to England. ( Love the history, the accents, and the humor.)

3. Learn to speak Spanish. (Since the fact that I slept through 3 years of it in high school doesn't count, I was hoping that marrying a Spanish speaker would, but the judges say no...)

4. Write a Book. (Just don't ask me the genre. It changes on a daily basis.)

5. Stop this incessant rhyming. (I seriously think it's a mental condition as to why I sometimes think in rhyme. It seems I do it all the time, and although the feeling is so sublime... See?)

6. Find a way to stop all chain emails from ever reaching my in box. (I'm not sure how to go about it, but I believe it may involve explosives...)

7. Go on a cruise with my husband. Alone. No children. No contact with the outside world. Except for the people in the cabin next to us since we'll probably run into them in the halls and you can only get away with so much fake smiling and averting the eyes before you finally have to look at them and realize there's going to be a lot more of this interaction going on for the next seven days so you might as well break the ice and say something nice about their God-awful clothes and the fact that you KNOW they're hiding a dog in their cabin cuz there's a certain smell coming from that direction and you hope it's a nice dog so you'll keep their secret and they won't say anything about the Vodka bottles they saw you sneak into your cabin earlier. (This could go further, but I imagine you've already moved onto the next item.)

8. See Number 7. (Now you HAVE to read it. ) (I'm evil. It's known.)

Eight Things I Say Often:

1. "Dude." Yes, I graduated from college.

2. "Seriously?"

3. "Seriously." Same word, two totally different meanings as indicated by punctuation. Seriously.

4. "Sprite, don't eat that."

5. "Stop pinching the dog!"

6. "That's just it.." One of John's personal favorites.

7. "Make up a mind already.." Doesn't have to be yours..

8. "Oy."

Eight Books I've Read Recently:

1. "Monster At The End of This Book". Not just for toddlers.

2. "Blood Brothers" by Nora Roberts. Love her stuff.

3. "Wishes" by Jude Devaraux. Probably misspelled her name, but I've been a fan for years.

4. "The Genesis Race" by Will Hart. It was given to me by a friend. I'm trying to work my way through it, but I almost feel like I have to dare myself to do it. To say it's OUT THERE is an understatement.

5. "Toddler 411" by Denise Fields and Dr. Ari Brown. If you have a toddler, this book should be well dog-eared by now.

6. Um, oh crap. I've read like a bajillion romance novels (I call them "fluff"). Can that count for Number 6 and Number 7?

7. It counts.

8. "The Secret". I'd tell you, but I'd have to kill you...

Eight Movies I've Watched Eight Times: (This should be "or more")

1. "You've Got Mail" Every time this comes on tv, I always end up watching. So John thought he would get me the DVD so I could watch it any time I wanted. I think the shrinkwrap is still on the DVD, but I still tune in when it's on cable.

2. "Ella Enchanted" Everything about this movie works well with me, from the music to the actors to Cary Elwes.

3. "Clueless" Like you haven't?

4. "Mary Poppins" Love it, love it, love it. (Her perfection and efficiency are everything I aspire to be .....Seriously, need help here.) 

5. "Grease" More like 800 times.

6. "Singin' In The Rain" "Yes, yes, yes." "No! No! No!" A classic.

7. "While You Were Sleeping" Another "You've Got Mail" situation in which John bought me the DVD so I wouldn't have to sit through commercials..(Still in shrinkwrap.)

8. "Muppets Take Manhattan". My aunt worked for Jim Henson himself back in the day so we've always had a special affinity for the Muppets and this movie was one of the theatrical cornerstones of my childhood.

Tag 8 People To Do This Meme:

1. Sprite. (That ought to be interesting.)

2. Becca over at The Katz Cradle. (looove yoouuu.)

3. Allinole (Your first Tag! A blog milestone!)

4. Lisa over at Boondock Ramblings (her site is a favorite of mine)

5. Megan at Undomestic Diva (largely in part because I don't believe she will, but mostly I wanna see how many curse words I can get out of her in one post..)

6. Susan. (Mostly because she doesn't have a blog, but this in someway gets her back for all the emails she's sent my way. Hell, for all I know, I could be a freakin' millionaire by now if not for the bad luck that befell me because I didn't forward on one of those lame chain letters and stand on my head for 4.5 minutes.)

7. Andrea Frazer over at Pass The Zoloft. (Just because she's funny as hell, her wit is a level of snark I have only dreamed about, and she's going to Blogher '08. Soooo jealous. So, she's probably too busy for this, but I'm sure she would be hilarious.)

8. You. Yes, you. Don't look over your shoulder. I'm talking to YOU. Tag, you're it.

(Editor's Note: You know, I just got the irony of this. My first post on this blog was about chain emails and my hatred of them. And now, I'm doing just that, only in blog form. Lesson learned.)

Void Where Prohibited

"Honey, why don't you take the night off? I've got the kid. Enjoy yourself."

Dear Consumer:

You are in receipt of one (1) voucher for a free night. Congratulations and enjoy! Please see the below terms and conditions of the "Free Night" voucher.

1. Voucher must be redeemed within fifteen (15) minutes of offer. Any delays in acceptance of said voucher or misgivings of voucher render voucher unredeemable.

2. Voucher may be voided at any time if the following conditions occur:

a. Natural disaster or world/civil war

b. Explosions

c. Diaper explosions

d. Sick child

e. Child wants recipient

f. Child looks at recipient

g. Recipient exchanges cross words with Offerer

h. Recipient looks at Offerer cross-eyed

3. Recipient may only redeem voucher at offerer's discretion.

4. Vouchers are non-transferrable. (This includes but is not limited to: caring for pets, cooking dinner, switching laundry)

5. Rainchecks will not be honored.

6. Voucher has no cash value*.

7. Voucher may be voided if:

a. Recipient comes into contact with offerer or child

b. Recipient is in general area of offerer or child

c. Recipient is within 10 miles of offerer or child

8. Voucher may not be sustituted at any time.

9. Voucher is only good from time of redemption until Midnight (EST) or when child is asleep, whichever comes first.

10. Recipient must in turn offer a voucher to the offerer within 48 hours of redemption.

11. Voucher is void where prohibited.

* Voucher may have sex value. Please see offerer for further details.

 

Freedom of Choice

Fourth of July. The day we celebrate our freedom from across the pond with colorful explosions, gorging on grilled char, and drinking until we don't recognize who we came with.

I'm off today, it's John's last day of freedom unemployment before starting his new job, and Sprite is oblivious to it all. (I love her age. So egotistical and yet, no one blames her for it!) My sister and 8 year old nephew will be joining us today on through the weekend.

Today, I aspire to gather my family close to my heart, find a friendly playground for my nephew and daughter to share some laughs and moments of bonding, have some heart to hearts with my sister, and enjoy a hamburger prior to seeing some wonderful fireworks and coming home, a little gritty, a little sticky, a little tired, and full of memories to keep me happy until next year.

What's this? "What Not To Wear" is having a marathon on TLC?

All day?

Um, hm.

You know, it's supposed to be in the high nineties today. Humid too. That is going to bring out the pollen.

I'm allergic to pollen.

Yes, I am!

I just heard the weatherman say there's a 50% chance of thunderstorm.

I'm deathly afraid of lightning.

Am too!

I'm sure Bryan and Sprite can find something to do around the house.

Maybe Lee Ann could keep an eye on them. I watched her kid for an entire weekend once while he was still in diapers. She owes me anyway.

I'm sure there's some yardwork for John to do. You know, get rid of that pollen so I don't have a sneezing fit. (He cares.)

I think I'll be better off here in the house. In my room. Yeah...

Happy Independence Day, everyone!

Watch responsibly.

Maybe it's just me..

...but I have a problem with watching shows sometimes.

If I know there is an embarrassing scene coming up (i.e. "Friends" episode, where Rachel is wearing a slip for her boyfriend and his parents walk into the room and fun family hijinks ensue.), I tend to change the channel to get past that part before I can resume watching, otherwise I feel embarrassed for the character it's happening to.

Same thing with movies.

John thinks it's cute AND strange, since I can't change the outcome of the scene, I know exactly what's going to happen, I visibly cringe for the character going through the embarrassing issue, I may have seen that particular episode or movie a million times ("My Best Friend's Wedding", plenty of embarrassing moments in that one), yet I continue to try to avoid those moments or fast forward through them.

Yeah, it's just me.

It's Just the Voice Inside My Head

Have you ever paused and listened?

Truly listened?

Sh.

Do you hear it?

Do you have any flipping clue what I'm talking about? (I really hope not. I'd be worried about both of us.)

Everyone has a voice inside their head.

Okay, okay. Let's not start with the "Ooh, Jen is proving she's certifiable! Exhibit B here, folks!" (We already established that back in January.) (Man, you're behind.)

Just try this little experiment and see what I mean.

(DISCLAIMER! **** Please do not attempt any Sprite's Keeper experiments while driving, sleeping, operating heavy machinery, watching children, watching paint dry, using a hairdryer, using anything with a plug, or thinking.) (Did that cover everything? Um, let's call it a Blanket Disclaimer.)

Go on about your day today. Do what you normally do. Then, just pause and listen. Listen to the voice inside your head. The one with the running commentary. Your lips don't need to be moving. Your mind does. And if your mind doesn't move, you're probably not reading this anyway, so... yeah.

Moving on!

You're probably still a little mystified about this inner voice stuff and wondering if they should cut off my Internet service, so I will be generous and provide you with examples as to what I mean:

Example 1: Jane is at the mall. Jane is walking along, window shopping and meandering from kiosk to kiosk as she samples gelato and hand cream. Her inner voice is talking to her the entire time, although she seemingly acts unaware of it. "Oh, that dress is nice. I wonder if they have it in a size 12. Do people believe me when I tell them I'm a size 8? I like those shoes. Not the woman wearing them though. Acting like she's all that. What laid eggs in her cereal this morning? Did she just sneer at me? Bitch." Jane's inner voice is a fashionista.

Jane's face has not shown any emotion as these thoughts came to mind. She probably isn't even cognizant of it.

If that didn't do it for you, here's another example with some added testosterone for you men-folk:

Example 2: Joe is driving along in traffic. Joe's practical sedan is cut off by a diesel truck hauling ass from the next lane over, which then speeds off leaving Joe puttering in his exhaust fumes at the recommended speed limit. His inner voice is a little peeved. "Stupid jerk. Just because he's driving a big truck, he thinks he owns the road. Heh heh, just wait until he gets to the gas pumps.. I really hope there's a cop ahead with his radar on. A nice ticket would get him good and pissed. Well, look at that, Mr. Big Ass Truck with an even bigger carbon footprint, stopping at the same light as the rest of us peons. Nice to see you again! Did wasting 2 gallons of gas to punch the pedal pay off for ya?" Joe's inner voice holds grudges.

All right, enough examples for you? So, go on about it. Report back if you hear anything interesting. And if anyone's inner voice is a fortune teller, email me. Lotto is coming up soon and Mama needs a new therapist.

(You were thinking it.)