Tuesday, November 2, 2010

My kind of girl (or, a little note to the OG)

I've recently discovered the secret to a clean house.  Her name is Ramona.  Oh, Ramona, how do I love thee?  Let me count the ways...

Seriously, how did I survive before Ramona?  And how did anyone put up with me?  Before Ramona, I basically did all of my housework on Saturday nornings, right up until the doors to the Hot Mess sports bar opened (or until the SS Hot Mess shoved off from  shore, depending on the season).  I'm sure I was one cranky mama, spending a quarter of every weekend fighting back the dust bunnies and wiping up potty training mishaps.  Definitely not the most fun way to spend my time.

Now, Ramona fights the good fight, and I enjoy the spoils of victory in the Great Dust Bunny War.  An excellent arrangement!

If you don't have a Ramona in your life, get one.  Now.  But you might have to find your own Ramona, unless you're Mrs. MD13 or Will's Mom.  If anyone steals my Ramona from me, I'm likely to get violent.

Anyhoo, I was reminded of my Ramona-love a minute ago when I stumbled across a prefectly sensible, logical, probably even brilliant little note about housecleaning.  If there was no Ramona in my life, this might be my new mantra:
God meant for dirt to be on the floor, that’s why He gave us gravity. If we didn’t have gravity, all the dirt and stuff would float around and get in your way.
So, if you sweep and mop and clear away the dirt, you’re messing with God’s master plan, and that’s just rude. And may be dangerous, if your God is a vengeful God!
Don’t be rude to God!
Can't argue with that logic, can you OG?  Take the plunge.  Call Ramona.

Monday, November 1, 2010

...and then the treats!

Aside from the aforementioned trick, we had a great weekend!  Plenty of treats to share.

First, FLORIDA/GEORGIA!  Yippee and hooray!  It was great to see the Gators score a win (and also fan-freakin-tastic to see Georgia lose), even if we did have to go through ridiculous overtime stress.  It was also great to see the Crew, and to have the presence of a ghost from MD13's past for Halloween weekend.  It's fun when you realize that you can pretty much assume you're going to like your Crew's other crew automatically.  Sign of a good Crew, if you ask me.  (You didn't ask, but I'm the one writing here...so we'll just pretend someone asked.)

Let's be honest, though.  I'm pretty sure the best thing to happen to us on Saturday was Will's Mom's "potato skins".  It's heaven in a potato.  I'm very nearly drooling just typing this.  Popovers were tasty, too - but the potato goodness ruled the day.

Second, Halloween!  Z and E had a great time, and they were stinking adorable.  Who could resist this??



E was a bit wary of the whole concept at first - I had to get the candy for her, carry her around, and do all of the talking for her.  Z was fine, really enjoyed chatting it up with the neighbors, and basically rocked the trick-or-treat.  Then E caught on, and stole the show.  After about the third house, she started scooping candy into her bag with her whole arm, and saying "trick or treat" to everyone.  She also decided she's too grown up to be carried or to hold hands.  No dice, little Miss Big Britches!  So, I was the mom carrying her cheerleader toddler upside down back to the house.  Oh well.  It's all fun and games until somebody's bloomers are showing!

Speaking of Halloween, Mrs. MD13 really does take the prize for best kid costumes ever.  Last year: 1-year-old Chippendale dancers.  Amazing.  This year: Animal House.  Incredible.  What will she do next year??

First, the trick...

OK, so I thought I was basically naming my blog after the people around me.  The Crew is the hot mess.  My kids are a hot mess.  It's not supposed to be a self-fulfilling prophecy about me!  But holy hell, folks...it turns out that I was wrong.

In one night, I both injured myself and may also have made Mrs. MD13 want to poke out her own mind's eye.  One physical injury (which will eventually heal) and one psychological injury (which will probably disturb poor Mrs. MD13 for the rest of her ever-loving life).  I'm so sorry Mrs. MD13!  I can honestly say I never thought I'd join the ranks of MD13 antics...but here I am!  If it's any consolation, my chin is throbbing, and I didn't come up with a good enough cover story before I got to work today, so I ended up re-telling the story several times today.  Mortifying, but actually pretty hilarious.

The moral of this story, my darlings, is that you should be kind to the MD13s of the world when you re-tell their stories and harass them about past antics.  It could be your own story you're telling next!  (Of course, the moral isn't that you shouldn't harass your friends or drink too much.  That wouldn't be any fun at all.)

[UPDATE!!  As it turns out, the General was the only one who got an eye-full.  He's also remarkably good at administering inebriated first aid.  Mrs. MD13 and her mind's eye are just fine, thank you very much.  And I'm very pleased to say I'm not joining the ranks of MD13 antics...at least not yet!]

Monday, October 25, 2010

Heaven

...and on the eighth day, God created Heaven, and he placed it in Ponte Vedra, and he made it a spa.  And the spa was good.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Ugh

Is it really possible that the Gators are this awful?  Aside from my feelings about the Offensive Coach Who Shall Not Be Named, I'm just completely uninspired by the boys lately.  They are a Hot Mess.

First, there was Bama.  Oh, Bama.  At Bama.  I can't say I expected to win (but I did hope it might happen!)...but I didn't expect to lose that badly.  Just awful.  And to make it worse, we watched with a couple of Bama fans.  Loud ones.  Just to pile it on, my mom decided that part of being a good hostess was cheering for the team your guests like.  (Really?  Sounds like a good way to get evicted from your own house, if you ask me.  Good thing she didn't ask me.)  But a loss to last year's National Champs is one of those things you have to just take on the chin and move on. 

So on we moved...but not to Gainesville.  Instead, we headed to North Georgia (yes, the opposite direction from Gainesville, in case you're checking your compass).  As you might guess, we weren't thrilled about this location issue.  Hot Mess or not, they're still the boys from old Florida - they're OUR boys, and we're going to see them in person as much as possible. 

So we were still stewing about not seeing the Gators live for the LSU game (ahem, whogetsmarriedintheFallintheSouth? - oh, sorry - just a little something caught in my throat)...but doing our best to invoke all of the good luck charms we could to counteract our absence.  (Clearly, us not being there is bad luck, right?)  We started with the traditional game-time drink (the JBTea), followed by game day underoos, lucky shirts (we switched out for the backups when the originals didn't seem to be working), and finally, outdoor peeing.  And not just the General.  Desperate times, folks.  What did we get for our troubles?  Nothing but the gut-twisting agony of losing to an SEC opponent.  Ugh.

And then there was Mississippi State.  Woof.  I was hoping that our presence in the Swamp might help the boys.  Evidently, I was wrong.  Way wrong. 

Thank God we've got a bye week!

How the time flies!

Holy hell!  Has it really been almost a month since the last post?  Crap.  I was on such a roll...

Well, I'm back.  It's been tough to get the blogging mojo going with the Gators sucking so badly lately, but here we go!

Sunday, September 26, 2010

What??

Sometimes, real life is even better than what you could make up.  Case in point: we're re-watching the UF game on HD tonight, now that the kids are in bed...and with about 10 minutes left in the 3rd quarter, a kick is blocked.  I'm not kidding when I tell you that the ESPNU annoucer said "twat" to commemorate the occasion.  We actually had to hit the go-back button 3 times before we could tell that he'd probably actually said "it's blocked".  THREE times...and I'm still not convinced he'd didn't say "twat". 

Ridiculous. 

The General and I will now be yelling "twat" anytime we're watching a game and a kick is blocked.  It's way too fun to pass up.