June 15th, 2008



Ok, I need to stop the drunken dancing til all hours of the night. Really. I'm too old and broken for this shit.

Our friend, Kala, had her 'Sex in the City' birthday last night (that's 34th to you and me) so we did Dallas, so to speak. Yummy Mexican dinner at Manny's and then to some club I can't remember that opens at 9 and is on the corner of Allen and McKinney Ave. We had *ahem* a bit to drinks (I remember 2 margaritas, 2 mojitos, one shot of SOMETHING, and we went through three bottles of champagne someone bought us to make up for being a jerk on another night to Angela and Colleen.

This morning, I feel like I've been hit by a truck. No, not a hangover, although I do have a tinge of a headache. The bar we went to have a raised platform with some seating, and I busted it VERY dramatically because I didn't see that it was raised. No lighting, floor almost the same color, yadda yadda. Anyway, I went down HARD on both knees and they are quite colorful and sore this morning. That's not the best though. I have found my downfall, so to speak. Trying to dance 'low', then getting stuck. It's how I rebroke my foot in January. I remember falling backwards last night doing that and this morning it appears that tweaked my ankle. Not the one that was broken, but the other.

So, I've taken two Tylenol and I'm holed up on the couch with my foot iced and elevated. I'm letting Scott sleep in, and the boys are amazingly quiet upstairs.

Happy Father's Day to those Dads out there. Enjoy them while you can, because you never know when they might no longer be there.

If you missed it last month, here is my tribute to my Dad
Eat my young

Who needs little girls?

Who says you have to have daughters to have major D-R-A-M-A in the house?

Today was haircut day. Matthew's hair has been so out of control that Daddy made a deal with him: Let mommy buzz his hair to about 1/2 inch and he will take him to pick out a BAG of candy. Anything he wants. Just have a no-fuss haircut for the summer. Matthew agreed, I cut his hair, he looked in the mirror and IMMEDIATELY put his shirt over his head. He started screaming that he hated it, he looked horrible, he was never leaving the bathroom, people will laugh at him, and so on, and so on...

This has been going on for an HOUR. Yikes.

Michael, on the other hand, loves his hair. He asked for a mohawk, so I did kind of a faux-hawk. It's about an 1/8 of an inch on the sides, and 1 1/2 inches long in a 2 1/2 inch wide strip from front to back. It looks 'normal' but you can spike it up into a mohawk.


ON the 'you freaking klutz' front, went to the doc and nothing is broken. I've sprained my ankle / tore a bit of ligament or some such. Rest, ice, compress, elevate. Yes, RICE.