random tidbits

- you know those Chevy commercials that show the Rockies and the theme song says something like "like a rock"? when I was a kid, I thought the words were "lock her up." dumbass. 

- after my horrible hangover last Sunday, where I admittedly spent at least 6 hours at or on the toilet, I couldn't poop for a week. IT WAS TERRIBLE. I can say it was honestly one of the worst weeks of life. I've always had a pretty regular digestive schedule, so the sudden bout of "I have to poo, but I can't" really fucked me up. 

- I met with our accountant over the weekend. thanks a huge financial decision we made early last year, we now owe the federal government $5,000. not cool, especially since I was counting on that refund to get some things done around the house. ya know, maybe buy a dining table? maybe some chairs for the dining table? looks like we may be refurbishing the old set in the garage after all. 

- my Bear cub is the cutest kitty ever. 

don't mind the eye boogers... he's been getting them a lot lately.

- thanks to the suggestions of many people, I started reading The Hunger Games last week. started on Friday, finished on Thursday. started Catching Fire (the second book) on Friday, and I should be finished with it this evening. 

I AM HOOKED. I'm pretty sure there's crack in the pages. it's such an odd and morbid concept that it makes me value the government of our society, as corrupt as it may seem. I'm also considering naming my first born Primrose. thank you, Suzanne Collins. I will be posting reviews of all three once I finish, which shouldn't be long! 

- yes, I still have The Help review to finish and post. slacker. 

- I'm actually really liking my English class this semester. I'm not big on reading pieces of literature and analyzing/interpreting them, but unfortunately, that's the gig for this class. professor seems really laid back though, so that's awesome.  and the other classmates seem really nice and supportive.

- I'm going to email everyone who donated to the Miss Chow Fund and get their addresses. a happy ending like this one deserves proper thank-you notes.

- according to Bear, this is his couch. 

Happy Tuesday! :)

her confidence is tragic, but her intuition magic

it's random thoughts time at TBNT!

five words I hate to hear:
- "bestie"
- "tat"
- "taint"
- "crunk"
- "porno"

five words I love to say:
- "fuckerbitch"
- "facetious"
- "lyric"
- "cunt"
- "vase" pronounced with a long "a" sound.

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do mosquitoes actually do anything productive? is there any grand reasoning behind their existence? someone, please let me know. because I hate them. I'd really like to just walk around with mosquito netting draped around my body at ALL times.

sexy, huh?

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my purpose in life is to answer my one life long question: how do blind people know when they're done wiping?

I'm sure there are ways to do it beyond sight (obviously... there HAS to be), but I'm honestly curious to know what these skills are. do they own a sniffing dog? do they smell the toilet paper themselves? this is in no way, shape, or form meant to be offensive to those with no eye sight whatsoever. it's just something that has plagued my mind for YEARS, so I thought, who better to ask than my lovely readers?

and don't act like you don't look at the poopy toilet paper when you're done wiping... you gotta make sure your ass is clean, yo! well... maybe not for you fancy pants out there with bidet toilets.

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I'm really really disappointed at all the recently canceled TV programs. let's be honest here... I'm a TV junkie, and I've mentioned this fact many times on this blog. and it just so happens, that I watched a lot of the shows that were canceled this year already, and some from last year. proceed below for the list:

The Cleaner


Accidentally On Purpose


Cold Case


Flash Forward


Law & Order


Mercy


Raising The Bar


Life


My Own Worst Enemy




RIP to some of my favorite shows. I love you all for one way or another. you've treated me well over the season(s) and you will be truly missed.
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I often think about the origin of letters and words and why they sound the way they do. for example, who decided what the letter A would look and sound like? why doesn't it look like an A, but sound like an S? who looked at a chair one day and proclaimed "this will be called a chair!"? it's insane how much I try to figure this stuff out, and it's crazy if you really think about it long enough... what if all the letters in the alphabet sounded like something else? that shit boggles my mind.

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insomnia sucks. between being busy with work, and being high on Ambien by the time I get a chance to blog about anything, I haven't had a chance to get to Wedding Wednesday yet today... whomp whomp. I'm go to attempt to half ass for sleep's sake, but if it's horrible, I'll put it on my list of things to do for tomorrow.

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oh yeah - GO FLYERS!

handicap bathrooms are not the safest option (TMI, yet hilarious)

since our kitchen is covered in dust and half our kitchen equipment is still in our entryway, we've been eating out A LOT. we try to keep it healthy with Subway and whatnot, but last night, we were both craving Italian cuisine. we headed down to a little hole in the wall nearby called Mama Lucia's, a big favorite of ours.

after we finished with dinner, we decided to stop by Giant to pick up a few things... kitty litter, card for a birthday, some nasal spray, among some other items. as we're browsing the aisles, I feel the rumblings. the rumblings that I mentioned in my second blog post ever. I typically have the rumblings after every meal, and the meal I had prior to our grocery store visit was a little greasier than I'm used to (stuffed shells, in case you were curious).

I clenched as we kept walking, and hoped it would go away so I could poop in the comfort of my own bathroom. within 2 minutes, I knew I wouldn't be having the pleasure of a home bowel movement. the rumblings of my loins were getting painful, and I quickly broke out in a sweat. I shoved all my picked up items in Mr. FoFandee's arms, and told him that there was NO WAY I was going to make it home, and I brisk walked my ass right into the bathroom.

as my luck would have it, the first three stalls had pee or toilet paper filled toilets, and I had to take my last option - the handicap stall. I don't know about anyone else, but I love the handicap stall - it's nice and roomy, and it's usually got a good stash of toilet paper... especially in a grocery store, where I imagine it's not used often.

so I go about the binness and let 'er rip. it wasn't so much an assplosion, but it wasn't pretty either. I performed the courtesy flush, just in case someone else happened to walk in... I would hate to have someone walk into THAT stench. I finish up pretty quick and flush away.

as I got to leave the stall, I turn the little handle on the door, and push open the door... except... it doesn't open. I turn the little knob 180 degrees in the opposite direction (counterclockwise), and it still doesn't open. the little latch that goes into the socket of the stall DOES.NOT.BUDGE. I freeze. what the FUCK am I going to do? there is no way in hell that I was climbing UNDER the stall, and therefore touching the nasty ass floors. no fucking way. I keep trying to turn the knob and that little bastard latch does not move, at all. I swear to god, I was going to find a way to climb OVER the stalls before I was going under them.

after about 10 minutes of fucking with that handle, and being about 30 seconds away from having a mental breakdown, I called Mr. FoFandee, who was still in the store... probably just waiting for me and thinking that I'm taking a huge dump. the conversation went a little like this:

Mr: what the hell are you doing in there?
Me: you have to help me.
Mr: uhhh... I don't think there's much I can do to help you out in there...
Me: I'm... locked in the bathroom... the handicap stall to be precise.

:insert hysterical laughter:

Me: it's NOT funny! I'm terrified in here. I'm not crawling under the door, so just come in here and get me out.
Mr: I can't come in there, it's a girls bathroom!
Me: I'm sure they'll make an exception if you're rescuing your imprisoned wife!
Mr: maybe I'll just get someone to help... and suggest that they announce it on the loud speaker that some fucking idiot locked herself in the handicap stall.
Me: thanks for the support... really. I swear, I've jiggled this handle for the past 12 minutes and I can't get the door open!

and finally, after another 3 minutes or so of fiddling with the damn handle, it finally opened. THANK GOD. I was sure they were going to have to call the fire department or some shit... I would be on the news as the local girl who was stupid enough to lock herself in a public bathroom stall. jesus. I made sure to inform the check out boy at the register that there is some serious defect with the handicap stall, and that I was near death trying to get out of there. he didn't think it was too funny... instead just looked at me all weird like I'm some kind of fucking psycho.



so. how was YOUR Tuesday night?








DISCLAIMER: this blog is not meant to offend any person or persons who use the handicap stall in public bathrooms, nor is it meant to offend anyone who is handicap or frequently locks themselves in public bathroom.

random thoughts Friday? okay!

you know what I really hate? when you feel the rumblings of a good BM, and it turns out just to be a fart. biggest disappointment EVER. I feel like this situation definitely makes my top 10 list of things that piss me off.

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I ordered my previously mentioned Bentley last night. it retails on Amazon for $51.55, but since I had a $25 gift card, it only cost me $26.55 (I qualified for free shipping). I cannot wait to get it. I will be stalking the mailbox religiously and awaiting it's arrival. my first project will be adding some length to our curtains - we originally bought them at a shorter length, due to our baseboard heating... we didn't want it covering the baseboards. but now that spring time is here and I'm really starting to HATE how short they are, it's time to spruce them up a little bit. thanks to some helpful tips from my girl, Melodie (inspired by her curatin revamp post here), I should be able to pull it off without any problems (fingers crossed). for a little reminder, here's the beaut that will be ALL MINE in a few short days:

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tomorrow night, I will be graced in the company of my friend Renee and we will be enjoying the comedic stylings of a Ms. Chelsea Handler in DC. I'm super excited - 1, because I get to spend some one on one girl time with Renee, which doesn't happen very often, and 2, it's Chelsea fucking Handler, and that bitch is hilarious.

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Remember that Spring Cleaning list I made a couple weeks ago? I haven't even started one thing on that list. it's so hard for me to get motivated, and it sucks. there are so many on-going projects I have in my head regarding our house, and I can't seem to find the time to organize them (in my head) and get started. it's completely overwhelming and it leads to me just shutting down and leaving the house as-is. SO frustrating. I've been doing really well at keeping the house decent looking and continuing to do little things every night to keep up with daily mess, but the actual hardcore cleaning just keeps getting pushed back farther on the calendar.

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We should be getting our federal tax refund aaaaany day now, and I'm itching to go shopping. I have a few things on my Amazon wish list, including this L shaped workstation. it got a couple good reviews, and I love the way it looks - it would fit perfectly in our "office" and I love the modern look of it - the sleek lines and metal mesh panels are so attractive! I know I could probably find something cheaper at Ikea, but this one really just calls to me, and for only $200, I don't think it would be a bad investment.

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I recently switched to Nuva Ring. I'd been on the Depo Provera birth control shot for almost 6 years, and since we plan on having kids in the next couple years, I decided it was time to switch to something a little less... harsh, I guess. I love the Ring so far, except for one tiny side effect. my fucking boobs hurt ALL THE TIME. doesn't matter if I am or am not wearing a bra, doesn't matter if I slept on my stomach, doesn't matter if it's close to the time to change the Ring... doesn't matter. they are constantly sore. a friend of mine told me she had this problem as well, and it never went away. I'm a little discouraged knowing that I could possibly have sore tits until I decide to get off birth control... but I really don't want to switch to something else. boo.

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I play Scramble on Facebook. am I a nerd? yes. Mr. MandeeFoFandee is extemely competitive - he saw that I was playing this game a while back and decided he wanted to give a try as well... if only to beat the shit out of my high score. since then, we've gone back and forth beating each others' scores and having bragging rights in the FoFandee household. his last high score was 220 (which only beat my previous score by 6 points, I might add). well the other day, I wiped the floor with his ass, scoring 252. two hundred fifty-two points... beating his top score by... oh... let's say 32 points!

I promise, I'm not as competitive as it seems. ;)

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I hope everyone has a fabulous weekend, and I hope the weather is nice wherever you are! it's only supposed to be in the 50s this week here in DC, so I gotta make sure to bundle up! if you're in the DC area and happen to see our gorgeous cherry blossoms, be sure to take some pictures and share them!

Happy 101 Award

Can I just tell you that today is the PERFECT day to be given this award? Thank you SO much to Suzanne from sunshine and wine for passing it along to me. If you want to drool over some amazing design pictures, head on over to Suzanne's place! I've had a shitty week already, mostly because of issues at my workplace and feeling unappreciated (I'll make sure to blog about it tonight or tomorrow to fill you all in... since I know you're on the edge of your seat with curiosity), so this will help to cheer up my Tuesday!


So. Here's my list of the Top 10 things that make me wet myself with joy. Or... just make me happy. whatever. these things are not in any particular order... just as they come to me off the top of my head.

1. Mr. MandeeFoFandee. oh, this poor guy. I don't know how he puts up with me some days... it really baffles me. he's always keeping me on my toes and making me laugh like no other. sometimes I think it feels like we've been together forever, and other times I feel like we just met yesterday. I guess that's a good thing. he's my best friend, and I wouldn't trade him for the world.

isn't he handsome? how did I get so lucky with a hunk like this?

2. My Cats. aka my children. they really are like little humans, and they all have their own little (and BIG!) personalities. I find extreme pleasure in giving them catnip as a Friday night treat, and watching them roll around and go crazy like they're on drugs. they never stay mad at me for long, and I can always count on them to give me lovins when I've had a hard day.

big girl Lily loves belly rubs.

3. Tattoos. to say I have an addictive personality would be the understatement of the century. tattoos are no different than Dr. Pepper, cigarettes (horrible, I know), or makeup. I love them, and am constantly yearning for more ink to display on my skin. people ask how many I have, and it's hard to tell, because different pieces were done at different times, so I tell them I have about 20 hours worth, 10 of which are due to my rib piece. it's important to me to have meaningful tattoos, and all of mine represent something or someone at a certain point in my life. I'll be sure to give a post with all of them, but for now, here's the completed rib piece. also, feel free to check out more of my tattoo artist's work at his website.

$750, 10 hours, and a lot of pain later... I have my garden rib piece.

4. Family & friends. I consider myself incredibly lucky to have so many amazing people in my life, from my dad to my brothers to my friends. they're all super supportive of everything I do, and they give me honest criticism when I need it. I am eternally grateful for each and every single one of them. oh, and my little brother is the cutest and coolest kid EVAR.

my my my cookie face, my my cookie face.

5. Vacation. there is nothing I love more than laying on the beach with a cold drink (preferably containing a good amount of alcohol) and a great book in my hand. we try to take at least one week long vacation a year, but this year might be tough due to being homeowners now. we shall see. but I'd give anything to be here for a week. right now.

this was taken on a beach in Oahu during our honeymoon. le sigh.

6. Pooping. I've said this before, and I'll say it again: the relief from a good bowel movement is amazing. I'm probably only mentioning this right now because I've been backed up for a few days and I would give anything to squeeze one out... even if it caused me to pass out from bearing down too hard. but for serious, I love taking a nice, relaxing poop. no picture necessary for this one. I'm not THAT gross.

7. DVR and On Demand. I honestly don't know what I did before DVR. to be able to fast forward through commericals and pause when a good poop comes along is, in my eyes, the best invention ever. I don't even know when most of my shows air... I just watch them as they appear on my DVR screen. and in the rare instance that I forget to set up a series recording (like I mistakingly did for the new season of Project Runway), I can find most of them at my fingertips On Demand. oh technology, I love you immensely.


8. Blogging. I'm new to this whole blogosphere, but I'm already addicted (have I mentioned that I have an addictive personality?) to this little place. I love checking my Google Reader everyday and reading up on what everyone is doing - whether it be DIY home projects, cooking deliciousness, playing with their kids, working for the man, or just living life. I'm a nosy person by nature, so reading about others' lives has always fascinated me, and to do it everyday and feel like a part of it at the same time is pure bliss. andplusalso, I get some handy dandy DIY/designing tips along the way. can't beat free advice!

9. Decorating/Designing. even when I was a little MandeeFoFandee with no husband or cats to speak of (okay, that's a lie... I had tons of cats, even as a little girl), I found myself always rearranging my room to get the most effective space plan. I was always making things to hang on my bedroom walls, and incorporating throw pillows from the living room to match my current scheme. I've always had a passion for interior design. now that we own our home, I'm like a kid in a candy store... if the candy store were home furnishings. I'm always on the lookout for the next piece to use in a room in our home, and am SO inspired by the many decor blogs I follow. if I could choose my career (which, yes, I'm well aware that I COULD... but that's a long story), it would be interior design, fo sho.

I'm obsessed with this design board Ashley's office over at Decorating Obsessed.

10. Sales. as much as I love a good pair of jeans or shoes, I'm keeping this one general, because if the shit is on sale, I can almost guarantee that I will buy it. I tend to justify purchases much easier when I know the items I got were not full price, and I convince Mr. MandeeFoFandee the same. I love finding the perfect item on sale - whether it be something I'm specifcally looking for, or a surprise.

and to complete my task with the Happy 101 Award, I'm tagging 10 blogs that make me happy (again, in no particular order):

1. Erinn @ Stawberry Swing and other Things
2. Laura @ Signed In Ink

3. Ashley @ The Domestic Wannabe
4. Sarah @ a little of this, a little of that
5. Melodie @ The White City Project
6. LiLu @ Livit, Luvit
7. Kasey @ Lola B's
8. Tara @ The Life of a Newly Wife
9. Sherry & John @ Young House Love
10. Alaina @ misc.alain.eous

PS - I would elaborate on WHY those blogs make me happy, but I'm at work and unfortunately, I actually have work to do. soooo just check out their links and see for yourself!

Happy Tuesday, bitches!

random thoughts.

My digestive system has been all wonky lately. I'll go days without pooping, and then have water ass for a day, and then back to being stopped up. WTF stomach?

I'm so sick of snow. We've gotten approximately 30" already this winter and I.am.over.it. We're supposed to get a huge storm this weekend, which will, ONCE AGAIN, prevent me from running weekend errands. fuck you, Mother Nature.

I went grocery shopping tonight to try to avoid the crowd, with no such luck. I don't know what it is about snow that makes people freakthefuckout. Last time we had a big storm, I went shopping the night before (it had nothing to do with the incoming snow... we had just moved and literally had NO food in the house), and the store was full of empty shelves - mostly in the eggs/bread/milk/chicken areas. It's not like a fucking meteor is coming and we'll be holed up in our bomb shelters for months, people. It's snow, and it'll be cleared up in a few days... I'm pretty sure you won't consume 7 loaves of bread in that time. Put it back and share. Now.

I love cheesy reality shows, including (but not limited to...) Bad Girls Club, Jersey Shore, Worst Cooks In America, Biggest Loser, American Idol, Big Brother, and Hell's Kitchen.

I would rather scrub toilets than wash dishes. I fucking despise doing the dishes.

For some reason, Pheobe is being a cunt lately. Every time Bear walks near her, she growls and hisses at him, and then proceeds to chase him and seriously attempt to hurt him. I don't know what her deal is, but she needs to cut that shit out.

I am guilty of responding to everyday statements with "that's what she said." Sometimes when it doesn't even work, but I still find it hilarious.

I totally forgot to switch my Nuva Ring last night. Thankfully, I remembered on my way home from the store and did it when I got home. It was easier to do the first time. I was really strugglin' there for a minute.

Sean & I are both atheist. For some reason, people get really offended by this, even though it doesn't concern them. We don't look down on, nor do we judge, those that believe in God. Why do those who follow organized religion find it necessary to make a big deal of our beliefs (or lack thereof)? I don't get it.

I would rather rock a fab pair of earrings than a big necklace.

I find new home decor/design blogs to subscribe to/follow everyday. I currently have 32 blogs in my Google Reader, and I'd say about 86% are house blogs. Addiction say what?

Speaking of addiction. A&E's Intervention makes me freaking cry every.single.episode.

I don't even know what time my favorite shows come on. All I know is they magically appear in my handy dandy DVR, ready for me to enjoy.

I keep thinking today is Friday. shit.

Schmoop fest, table for one!

Okay, so this is going to be a little different than my previous posts. No poop stories, no dead baby jokes, no sarcasm (well... maybe a little), and definitely no negativity.

I adore my husband. With Valentine's Day right around the corner, I've been feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, and it's not because of the Ambien, like usual. Normally we don't do a lot for V-Day, and we probably won't change that tradition this year, but still - a day dedicated to love makes me feel pretty damn lucky.

It's nearly impossible to think of a time that I didn't know Mr. MandeeFoFandee... a time when I knew absolutely nothing about him, other than his name. A time that I wasn't aware of his ice cream addiction, and his love of classic rock. A time before I knew that he despised ranch dressing, but had an unnatural affection for BBQ sauce. A time that I thought I was the only person who loved "The Boondock Saints" enough to place it at the top of my favorite movies list. A time when I believed that I never wanted to get married, or even think about bearing demons... ahem... children.

In summer 2007, my best friend dragged me out of my hibernation of depression and anxiety (which I had masked as a possible case of IBS, and even went as far as to have a colonoscopy to prove it) to go away for the weekend to Ocean City. OC is a place much like the infamous Jersey Shore - full of trash, but great entertainment if you know the right spots. I hesitated, but agreed in the end, because my best friend had just met a guy, and wanted to meet up with him and his friends in OC, but obviously did not want to venture out alone. So there we are, in our hotel room (which amounted to about $40 a night, so you can imagine how luxurious it was), drinking beer (ahem... I was NOT drinking, due to my recent stomach issues), and waiting for the men folk to arrive, who were staying in the same hotel... just a few rooms down the hall. I should also mention that my best friend and her new beau had been trying to hook me and S up for a little while, but we were just never in the same place at the same time. Now, back to the story - the door is propped open, and S walks in. I damn near have to pick my jaw up off the floor, because "GOD DAMN, who is that handsome chunk of man flesh that just walked in our room?!" Sure enough, it was the guy I'd been hearing soooo much about. Honestly, I was really hoping S would turn out to be a giant douchebag, because he was way too good looking to actually be a "great guy." We didn't talk much the first night, but I did offer him my dead skin peeling services for his poor burned legs, which had been abused by the sun the weekend before. No shame in my game, playa.


The second day we were in OC, a bunch of us went to the beach for the day. The beach was crowded, so we sneaked into the pool at the nearby Hilton. When the drink girl came by asking for wrist bracelets, I just told them we were checking in that day, and therefore our reservation wasn't on her handy dandy spreadsheet. I'm devious like that. S shows up at the pool a little later, and to my surprise, strikes up a conversation with me. Turns out, he has struggled with extreme anxiety for years, and he thinks that my stomach issues could be just that. I also learn that I am, in fact, NOT the only person who adores "The Boondock Saints" to the point of obsession. After the pool conversation, we all headed back over to our respective hotel rooms to get ready to hit the town.

During our walk on the boardwalk in our large group of 20 somethings, we hang in the back, getting to know each other better. I don't remember what we talked about, but I guess it doesn't really matter. We all went to dinner, hit up a bar on the boardwalk, and then made our way to the party block on 17th street, where the liquor reaaaaally started to flow (with everyone else except myself... stomach issues, ya know). S was getting quite intoxicated - he and E (best friend's beau) were drinking all the tube shots they could get their hands on, in order to see which girl would have the most glow bracelets on their wrists by the end of the night. We totally won, in case you were wondering. At some point during the night, I realized that I was staring at S... kind of stalkerish staring. My best friend noticed (as she should), and bet me that I wouldn't make the first move. With that said, I walked up to him at the bar, pretended like I had to tell him a secret, and planted a big one right on his gorgeous mouth. From that point on, we were making out all night (klassssssy). We got back to our hotel, and he thought it would be an excellent idea to throw me in the pool... with ALL of my clothes on. I tried to be angry with him, but I had to respect the balls he had to throw someone completely sober (and clothed!) into a pool. I tried to hang as long as I could, but being that I was not wasted, I couldn't keep my eyes open much longer. I said goodnight, and went to my room. And in case you were wondering, I went to my room ALONE. Perverts.

this was one of our first pictures together... before the trip into the pool.

The following day, we all got up and planned to head out and go our separate ways. I found myself rambling about S the entire car ride home. My best friend got his number from E, and as they say, the rest is history. We had our first date a week later, and have been together ever since. We couldn't get enough of each other, and we fell in love quickly. I loved everything about him - the way he was so laid back and sort of shy, but still confident. The way he cared immensely about his family and friends. And most importantly, the way he climbed the walls I had built up around me for years in order to protect myself. The way he MADE me get close to him, and let my guard down. He allowed me to see myself in a different way. He made me feel safe and protected, and he brought out the best in me. I could be myself around him, and he loved me as MandeeFoFandee. And all this doesn't mean he totally kissed my ass either, cause that was not the case at ALL. Trust me, he called me out on my bullshit when he thought I was wrong, and he let me know when/if I was out of line (more when than if). Honestly, I loved every minute of it. It was refreshing to be with someone who knew exactly who he was, and who had strong opinions. I loved his honesty, and his knowledge of himself, and that he wasn't afraid to share that with me.

here are a few pictures from the beginning of our relationship:

It's nice to remember our relationship early on, when it was so fresh and new. Of course, our relationship is still as wonderful as it was then, but it's a different kind of wonderful. It's the kind of wonderful that means knowing almost everything there is to know about each other, and still smiling at the end of the day. It's the kind of amazing that allows you to ignore the annoying flaws (which trust me, we both have plenty of), and embrace the good spirits. It's the kind of wonderful that makes Valentine's Day a fuzzy and warm day, and not just some Hallmark created holiday.

I was perusing MySpace for the first time in a loooong time today, and I found this blog that I had written back in March of 2007. I had dated (and I use that term loosely) a guy who ended up being a giant tool... and so I wrote this blog as a sort of guideline for myself... if a guy didn't make at least 5 of these traits, he was date material only... nothing long term. And as it turns out, S meets all of these... except the Redskins one.

Here's the blog I wrote on March 2nd, 2007. Little did I know, I'd be meeting the man who would change my cynical ways in just a short few months.

I want a man...
... that is proud to call me HIS.
... who will let me pay for dinner sometimes.
... that wants to show me off to his friends.
... who won't compliment me all the time, but when it's honest & true.
... who loves the Washington Redskins more than I do.
... that will let me bury him in the sand at the beach.
... who isn't jealous or possessive.
... who will make me laugh until my stomach aches.
... who will love every flaw on my body.
... that loves his mother.
... that lets me have my privacy and isn't stuck up my ass all the time.
... who will impress my friends on the first meeting.
... who's not afraid to be himself.
... that will have thumb wrestling tournaments with me & not let me win.
... that will tell me if an outfit I'm wearing looks dumb.
... who won't let me critique myself physically.
... who can get approval from my dad without kissing his ass.
... who will have debates with me about heated topics.
... that will express his opinions freely & not second guess himself.
... that will make fun of me when I'm crying over a chick flick.
... who won't spoil me, but simply treat me the way I deserve.
... who is confident and secure with himself.
... that will let his guard down when he's ready.
... who will make me want to be a better person.
... who will sit in the bathroom and talk to me while I poop.
... that makes me feel like the sexiest woman alive.
... who won't back down in a fight with me.
... who makes me love myself even more than I already do.
... that I can have fun with.

... who will want me to delete this blog because he knows he's IT.

Don't worry, I won't be deleting this blog, but I did delete the other one. Damn you, V-Day. I'm never usually all mushy and shit about my marriage, but for some reason, I've been feeling the need to share about it lately. Until next time, hookers!


PS - He doesn't sit in the bathroom with me while I poop... we just poop with the door open.

It's Friday. Let's be random.

A little random never hurt anyone right? Well... maybe if she came with AIDS and baby daddy drama.

Random things I love. Here we go.

1. I'm pretty sure the only thing I love more than Fridays are football Sundays. Football Sundays consist of Mr. MandeeFoFandee and myself plopping ourselves on the couch (in our respective jerseys, of course - Ravens for him, and Redskins for me) and watching football all day long. Preseason, regular season, post season... doesn't matter, as long as it's a good game. Obviously I'd prefer to watch games in which the Redskins are victorious, but let's be honest... those days are rare. Sometimes it's just nice to have a day where you absolutely nothing.



2. Shoes. I love shoes. And I'm not talking about $300 killer heels that would likely cause me to suffer a broken neck. I'm talking about the Birkenstock sandals that I wore for years. Unfortunately, one of the cats had a little "accident" IN THEM and I had to toss them out - they were so worn out and beaten up that a toss in the wash would surely destroy them. They're not the cutest, but they're the comfiest shoes I've ever owned. I wish I could be the kind of girl who can just throw on a pair of heels to wear to the bar, but alas, I'm not. For one thing, I'm already pretty tall (5'-8") and I hate being taller than S in public. Two... I'm not the most graceful creature on the planet, and I trip over my own BAREfeet, so you can imagine what happens when I add a few inches. And lastly, they're just NOT comfortable for me, and I refuse to wear something that causes pain.



3. For as long as I can remember, I've had a strange affection for weird animals. While I adore cats and want to adopt every single one I come into contact with, I consider my top three favorite animals to be hippos, polar bears, and alligators. I'm not sure why, but it's true. I think it's because they're all really cute when they're babies. Hippos are freaking badass. Male hippos tend to keep their space bubble clear of intruders by flinging their poo at other male hippos. Polar bears are so cute and cuddly. Alligators are extremely cool to me... they've been around for thousands of years, and are still pretty high up on the food chain.



4. A good poop. This one is pretty obvious, and since it's not TMI Tuesday, I won't elaborate further... nor will I couple this with a picture.

5. Dead baby jokes. I know, I know, they're offensive, but I'm not exactly the most PC person on the planet, now am I? I think they're hilarious... maybe it's because I don't have kids, but I'm pretty sure that even if I gave birth to a little demon, I would still joke about why you put it in a blender feet first. I've always cared more about animals than I do people, and therefore I can't stand jokes that involve dead animals. I can't even watch freaking Animal Planet when the hungry lion is trying to catch a fleeing gazelle for it's cubs. But I can bet you $100 that if they had a show that concentrated on people (aka fucking idiots) who move to Florida in the everglades and then wonder why an alligator ate their small child... I'd be all up in that shit as long as they had footage of the attack.



Random things I hate. This could possibly be a long list.

1. People who move to Florida (more specifically, areas that are highly populated with alligators) and then freakthefuckout when their dog, cat, or small person disappear from their backyard. Uhh... what did you think was going to happen when you decided to move your entire family (including the tasty little human) to a place where this alligator has lived it's ENTIRE LIFE? Did you think he would just sign over the deed and let you have the property where he/she raised it's babies for years? No, bitch, I don't think so. And by the way, why was your dog or child out in the backyard alone anyway... especially when you're living in godforsaken alligator country? I should be an alligator activist. I'm pretty sure it would work out.



2. Shaving my legs. I'm so lazy when it comes to shaving. In the summer, and only if I'm wearing shorts, I'll shave my legs up to my knee, since the hair is pretty light above the knee. In the winter... you'll be lucky if I shave a total of three times. I'm very aware that it's pretty disgusting, but I don't care. It's too cold in the winter to shave (even in the shower)... plus, I think the hair helps me to stay warm. Don't judge... it's not like you have to touch them.




PS - don't ever Google Image search "hairy legs" at work. holy hairy vagina everywhere.

3. Cliche tattoos, specifically tramp stamps. I won't go into more detail, as I really don't want to offend someone. I know what you're thinking... "Mandee... being courteous?" I know, it's crazy. Consider it a happy Friday gift.

4. The alarm clock. If I could go back in time and stop anything from being invented, it would be the fucking alarm clock. I hate when I'm dreaming, and then all of a sudden, I hear this annoying noise, and I'm all like "whatthehellisthat?!!" in my dream... before waking up and realizing it's my alarm going off. I think people would be a lot happier without alarm clocks.
I know a lot of people are jobless right now, so I think it would be awesome to hire someone and have them wake me in the morning to the fresh scent of blueberry coffee and pancakes. I sure as hell would be a lot happier in the mornings.


Thank you, kind stranger! This is much more pleasant than waking to some annoying song from my cell phone.

5. While we're on the subject, I'll go ahead and add cell phones used as alarm clocks. You know how you get a cell phone, and you're listening for that perfect tone to be used for your alarm? It always ends up being the most annoying fucking sound your phone could possibly make, because you know it's the only thing that will get your lazy ass out of bed in the morning. Either that, or, cause you to throw your cell phone across the room when you hear it go off. Of course, I've neeeever done that...


Alright, that's all I got for today, folks. That was a lot longer than I expected it to be. Told you, I have a lot to say.

Happy weekend!

Craptastic (TMI Alert)!

WARNING: If you are not comfortable talking (or even reading) about the gloriousness that is a good bowel movement, do not read any further.

If the curiosity is killing you, however, please do read on.

First, I'd like to mention that I had the day off yesterday, so naturally, today felt like Monday. I got up (late, as usual), showered, brushed my teeth and went about my morning routine. I stopped at the 7-11 near my home, and picked up a 20oz coffee and two bottles of Dr. Pepper, as usual. Paid with my check card, as usual.


Mmm. Delish.

I drove to work, listened to Elliot in the Morning on DC 101, as usual. Got to work, and got settled in, which consists of checking my work email, checking my personal email, checking in on The Nest, checking Facebook, and reading the new blogs that appear on my Google Reader (and commenting accordingly)... all while sipping my delicious 20oz cup of sugar, with a little coffee and creamer added. Totes usual.

And as usual, about 20 minutes after I finished my coffee, I felt the rumblings. The monster rumblings of my daily morning bowels. This is part of my daily routine. I drink my coffee, and then I poop, and then I'm ready to take on the day that is upon me and make it my bitch.


Yep. I own this book.

Something about these rumblings was not normal. I didn't have the strength in my abs to let it "marinate" like I usually do. I like to let it simmer for a bit before I actually go to the restroom, so that it involves the least amount of pushing as possible. I told you, I have a routine, and damnit, I stick to it! This demon inside of me would not allow for the marinating period. I had to rush to the bathroom to do the binness.

As I sit on the toilet (I should also mention that I work in a very small office, consisting of a total of 5 people, including myself, and we only have one bathroom), I could tell that this was not going to be the usual "sit, relax, wipe" session that I have on a daily basis. What erupted from my body was the fiery passion that once was an entire bag of pistachios that I consumed over the long weekend. It burned. It splattered. Most importantly, it was NOT quiet, which is totally NOT usual.

Now, if you know me, you know I'm not shy about my bowels (obviously). But this was an ASSplosion. I was imagining my poor coworker in the office outside the bathroom cringing (and possibly laughing) as the demon escaped my rear end. It was nuclear. I tried to be quiet about it, I really did. I tried to let just a little out at a time, I tried running the sink water to mask the sound... it just was NOT happening.


THIS is what occurred in my workplace toilet.

Finally, I'm done. I wipe, wash my hands, open the window, spray a copious amount of flowery smelling Lysol, and I leave the bathroom... making sure to shut the door behind me. I even considered making a sign, warning coworkers not to enter the bathroom for at LEAST 20 minutes. I'm telling you - that shit was hazardous.

And as usual, I walk outside to have my post-bowel cigarette. I'm puffing away, enjoying the beautiful weather that has recently graced itself upon Maryland, and it hit me again. Those fucking rumblings. I thought "eh, I just went... there's no way I have to go again ALREADY," and I attempted to finish my nicotine stick. Was.Not.Happening. I flicked the cherry off my cigarette and sprinted to the bathroom. (Insert another descriptive ASSplosion here).

This inconvenience happened to me FOUR times today. FOUR TIMES! I couldn't believe it. I'm a pretty regular shitter, and I go usually about two times a day. And those two times are NORMAL, not the painful diarrhea I experienced FOUR TIMES today. I know it's the pistachios and all their deliciousness.


Mmm. Come here, my pretties.

I should probably mention that I consume an ungodly amount of pistachios if I get my hands on them. I generally buy two bags at a time, and finish a bag in a matter of days. I eat about a 16oz cup worth of shells at each sitting... unless my mouth burns from the salt before the cup is full. I'd like to say that my hellish poops today will caution me from devouring pistachios in the future, but I know it won't.

Perhaps I should take after LiLu and start a weekly TMI post. TMI Tuesdays? I guess it fits.



... that's what she said.