the amazing adventures of jen14221

saturday kid photo

I'm just not in the mood to blog.

Which is so great, right before BlogHer.

I've got nothing to say!

So there.

i am having a bad day

I hate saying goodbye to people, and I hate crying into my scrambled eggs at the breakfast table.

sunday kid photo

It took 6.5 years, but I finally got the boy to eat a taco.

He's been drinking the Loganberry for years now (it's his #1 choice when Peter and I crack open a bottle of something and have cocktail hour) but a taco?  HUGE.
 

back, for now

I didn't really quit the blog, I just had to re-evaulate my relationship with it.  I certainly do not need to blog about shit and then get into trouble for it.  THERE ARE SPIES OUT THERE, YOU KNOW.  WITH THE LAST NAME OF "LOPES".  I refuse to password-protect my blog like b/c that is lame with a capital L so I will just have to be more carfeul.  Or blog only while sober.  Or something like that.  LAME.

Currently, as I type, I am in Toronto.  We're using some of my points for a free night at the Park Hyatt (verrrry nice) and Peter and Will went to a pro-soccer game (which cost more than a stay at the Park Hyatt would, most likely, WTF).  I am going on an adventure to some bar to attend a Pre-BlogHer meetup with some Toronto-area bloggers which should be fun.  Then, later I will meet my husband and son for dinner and we shall be merry.

This last week was exhausting, but intense, because I have so much going on along with a new opportunity which should keep me at LMNOP company for another 2 years or so, and the notion of this new project is scary but EXCITING.  Who knew this six-month gig in 11/2006 as a trainer would turn into something so big?  Not me.  I'm still surprised sometimes that I am 41-years old, and responsible enough to pay my mortgage and all the bills and manage to remember to feed my kid, and my cat.  Of course, Peter handles everything while I am gone 4 days/week so that makes him a superstar, and he may just get a new car or something (DO YOU HEAR THAT, SPIES?).

So - lesson.  Life is strange and I am catching a good buzz (thanks, free bottle of wine in my hotel room) so I better stop blogging for now.  I do not want to say anything to offend the spies.

new rules

1. I am not allowed to use the phrase "Forced-Family-Fun" anymore. 
2. I am not allowed to eat breakfast sandwiches from Au Bon Pain anymore.
3. I am not allowed to complain, bitch, moan, etc anymore.
4. THE END

*disclaimer*

Dear People of Earth, and people in Philadelphia.

Everything on this blog is a lie.  Well, some of it is a lie.  You should not take anything I say too seriously, and make sure to remember that I am an idiot. 

Most of the time.

listen to me

I like these things.  You should try them.

1. Simple breakfast sandwiches of bacon and cream cheese on a toasted English muffin.  if you're feeling nasty, have it on a croissant instead.  But only a really good croissant.
2. This book. It will make you laugh.
3. Reef flip-flops.  They're affordable and cute and have a little arch built in.

conundrum

I love being in the sun.

I am of German/Irish heritage.

The sun is not good for me.

I burn easily.

I like having tanlines on my feet.

I need Botox.

what. the. fuck.

Somtimes I am astounded at how people I knew when I was young are STILL EXACTLY THE SAME.  I mean, I know I am have many many flaws/quirks/whatever, some of which make me adorable and some of which make me a giant fucking bitch, but I like to think that I am not the same person that I was back then.

Sorry for the intentional vagueness on this post.  As you know, I usually have no problem telling you exactly what I mean and who is on my shitlist.  It's safe to say that I am bothered.  But my world is big.  And I guess I have to stop caring so much about what other people think.

daily checkin

This morning I woke up with my son's feet in my face.  It was 8:25am.  Peter slept on the couch last night - we have no A/C and it's about 10 degrees cooler downstairs and he did not want feet in his face (and my BIL is in the guest room).

Peter actually woke me up at about 7am, puttering around and ZIPPING and UNZIPPING his suitcase about 100 times, getting ready for work, but 8:25 was when I finally decided to get out of bed.  It was already 80 degrees in my bedroom.  And I had feet in my face.

Will begged to stay home from camp today because he did not want to miss the soccer game (OH MY GAH I WILL BE SO HAPPY WHEN THIS WORLD CUP SHIT IS OVER) and I finally agreed. 

I did a bunch of laundry, cleaned up cat vomit, cared for my child, and listened to Peter's brother snore, loudly, until 10:30am. 

Peter came home at some point and he and his brother went to lunch.  I was not offered any lunch.  I could have totally used some lunch.  I fed Will lunch.  I did not eat lunch myself.

At 12:45 I dragged Will next door to go swimming.  At 1:30 he demanded we go home because SOCCER WAS ABOUT TO START OH MY GAH.

I set WIll up in front of the TV with his cheesy poofs and lemonade and went back to the pool until 3:30.  Then I took my sunburned ass home and got dressed and went to the airport.

I flew to Philadelphia.  It was 102 degrees when I landed. I checked into the hotel and then I went to Qdoba for tortilla soup.

I was kind of hungry.  Remember, I had no lunch.