For Wordless Wednesday?

Mr. Hot and I were sitting out on the front porch, reading and enjoying the soft pitter patter of the rain. Suddenly, we had a torrential downpour on our hands that threatened to send us inside. Luckily, the wind was blowing in the proper direction (i.e. NOT blowing in onto us).

Ten minutes later, I noticed a bluing of the sky:

The bluing got bigger:

And uncovered even more of the thunderheads beneath:

I took the opportunity to snap some other pictures of my freshly bathed garden -

Out of focus, but a load of marigolds:

My gorgeous Shasta Daisys waiting for their friends, the Black-eyed Susans to join them:

and my cute little chickadee with the Coreopsis (yellow) and perennial Geranium (purple):

—- I guess this is technically a Nearly Wordless Wednesday. I came in to upload these photos and the heavens opened up again. Guess Mr. Hot will know to come in out of the rain? —-

Y’all? Yesterday I got 30 cortisone shots in my head. If you were to look at my scalp, you’d think I was a junkie with really fucked-up aim.

Today, Mr. Hot woke up with a stiff neck and the sniffles and he’s, um, a bit stuffed up in the general bowel region.

Who is moaning and groaning?

You get one guess. (Hint. It is not the author of this blog.)

Not to alienate the male readers of this site, but oh mah holy hell! There is a reason that men don’t have babies.

********lalalalala********

In other news, 24’s cute friend from West-by-gawd-Virginia is still here. He, however, is at work. WTF people? He told his dad, “I have to work from 5-9:30, but Cutie-pie will just stay downstairs and read.” Mr. Hot yelled down the stairs, “You don’t have to stay down there, we don’t bite.” She giggled, and I can hear the television, but, am I wrong to be a bit weirded out by this? You invite someone to come visit, and then you leave them to their own devices in someone else’s house while you leave for a few hours?

********lalalalala********

In other, other news, we went to Home Depot and the ONLY kind of string trimmer refill they didn’t have is the one we need. So we left, which was a good thing, because every time we got to Home Depot, I have to pee. Seriously. I knew one guy who said it happened to him every time he went into a record store. (Y’know, when you still had to GO places to buy music.) His theory was that it prevented him from spending money since they had no public restrooms - he couldn’t stay long. With me, though, it takes longer to FIND the restrooms in Home Depot than to drive home, so I guess it serves the same purpose. Home Depot is my personal holy grail. Although you wouldn’t know it to look at my house.

—- And in other, other, other news - Shortman made it to my parents’ house just fine and dandy, driving on the interstate for the first time, alone(!), and decided to spend the night. Which would generally lead one to believe there would be general debauchery going on here tonight. Except, yea, there’s that whole house guest thing. —-

I just did something I thought I’d never do.

Started another blog.

For Book Reviews.

Go check it out. You can win the book that I reviewed today.

Oh, and don’t forget to add the feed.

C’mon. You KNOW you want more Hot in your life.

—- And you can laugh at the pure ingenious-ness of the title of the blog. Shush. I’m creatived-out today. —-

Y’all are so sweet and kind and I wish I could give you all hugs and kisses for the wonderful comments I got yesterday. Mr. Hot took me for Japanese food. (Lyvvie, I thought of you since I ordered the Kaisheki Bento Box.) Shortman and 24 gave me a gift certificate for a massage. (I think I need to make an appointment for very soon.)

I found out that a Lemon Sake Martini (yes, one!) will go right to your head when you’re eating raw fish.  And that octopus is kinda rubbery, but you can actually stick them to the side of your plate when they’re served with their suckers still attached.  And that I’m much more capable with chopsticks than Mr.  Hot, but since he’s missing his right-middle finger from the top knuckle up, he’s at a disadvantage….the bottom stick kept falling off his hand.  Snirk.

In work related news, our “big initiative” that I wrote bitched about here has some minor “issues”,  but nothing too terribly bad that I can tell.  Some stupid crappe because people weren’t thinking or paying attention, but all in all, (knock wood), I think we’re going to come out relatively unscathed.

Which is a good thing, because, srsly, how am I supposed to get any work done when this is going on right in front of me?

Yea, I know.  “Hotfessional, we thought you were, um, more professional and mature than that.”, you’re saying.   “You’re supposed to be an executive level manager or some shit.”  (Okay, so maybe you wouldn’t say shit, but when I put words in your mouth, you tend to speak like me.)

Well, okay, so there is that whole “kick them out of the office” option. Or, “stop taking pictures.” Or, at the very least, “Oh mah holy hell woman, stop freakin’ captioning them.”  But, oh noes.  That would be no fun at all.

—- Thanks again for the birthday wishes…it may take me a couple of days to get through the emails and stuff, but I will!  Love to you all. You are truly the best. —-

You Act Like You Are 31 Years Old

You are a thirtysomething at heart. You’ve had a taste of success and true love, but you want more!You’re responsible, wise, and have enough experience to understand a lot of the world. You’re at the point in your life where you understand yourself pretty well.You are figuring out what you want… and how to get it!

What Age Do You Act?

Funny, because this:

turned 45 today.

Forty-freakin’-five.

—- Shoot me.  Tell me Happy Birthday.  Just don’t tell me how much younger you are than me.  Snort. —-

Grinding my back teeth,
The anger is testing me,
Will I break or scream?

Do you ever have days when you’re on the verge of having a huge-ass hissy fit all day long? From the time you get up in the morning until the time you go to bed (or, at least, lock yourself away from all other human beings?) - you feel like if one more person says one more word, or walks past, or looks at you, or fuckin’ BREATHES - you’re going to explode?

That’s pretty much how I feel right now.

Everything is pissing me off. From the 27 emails I had waiting for me this morning reminding me that we have a huge initiative happening next week that absolutely, positively, must be flawless (Gee, sorry, I had no idea….dumbshit) to the fact that Shortman just walked out of this room without turning off his Teamspeak headset so I hear a bunch of 16 year old boys screaming at each other to “Shoot him, shoot him. Dammit.”.

I’ve wanted to haul off and punch the crappe out of, oh pretty much the entire world. (Well, except you all…no, seriously, I wouldn’t punch you….you’re the greatest. Stop.Backing.Away!)

Ahem.

So, that’s my mood today. I need to go to the grocery store and run over some perfect strangers with my cart and stock up on the vodka buy some beautifully scented aromatherapy candles and some bubble bath.

—- Meh. That’s all. —-

…but an open bar is.

see more crazy cat pics

I’ve run out of time to write a post - and must go steal an early drink or 7 set up for tonight’s retirement party. I’m not even going to pretend that I’ll be able to write a decent post later on, so I’ll catch y’all tomorrow.

—- I’ll be at O’Horror at 6 a.m., that should provide you fodder. —-