Stephanie Art Theatre Presents: Invasion of the Giant F-ing Flying Ants

by "fly" I mean "ant" but don't care enough to redo the drawing

For some reason, our house has been plagued by these larger than normal, winged ants.

Steve’s gone around selective squirting bug-a-cide to little avail.

I came home from work and vacuumed up  dozen creepy carcasses… there were two live ones and while I PLLLFFFT!d one, the second one tried to hide, which required my outsmarting an ant.
Stephanie 1, Giant Flying Ant 0.

I came home from yoga and had to use the bathroom.
The pets are all to the “WE MUST PROTECT YOU!” phase, so of course they all lumber upstairs with me.
Buffy came into the bathroom, Kai kept watch outside the bathroom door and Bailey stared off into space on the top step.

So, there I sit with my pants around my ankles when I hear a roaring buzz.
I look and one of the GIANT ants has landed on my work pants, which are hanging on the towel rack.
Naturally, I screamed. Which scared Buffy.
I get the fly off my pants and it’s crawling around on my bathroom  floor.
“Commear Kali! Come here! Look! Look!”, I say, pointing to the rug, hoping that her killing instinct would kick in. She walks past the ant and starts nuzzingly my hand.
“Buffy! Come here! Look!” By now I’m batting the mutant  flying ant away from me with “What to Expect When You’re Expecting”; you know, as opposed to crushing said ant with said book, which would be gross.
Buffy replies by hopping in the bathtub, “MOW”ing.
“You two are f-ing useless!”, I cry, grabbing a wad of toilet paper.
I knew if I didn’t get the ant rightnow, he’d get into my shower curtain to make more flying ants and generally scare the piss out of me.
Meanwhile, Kali’s in the hallway.

And Bailey’s downstairs barking at something in the street that could possibly be interested in coming into the house and stealing her toys or hurting me.

So,with my pants around my ankles, I start hunting the ant.

I caught him and threw him in the toilet and the jerk starts SWIMMING!
After I got done screaming at it, I threw another piece of toilet paper on him and flushed.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I defeated a giant mutant ant. On my own.

Sales Which Aren’t

(to be honest, I’ve never gotten the hang of “which” and “that”… so excuse my “fox paws”* if I made one)

Due to the rapid expansions happening at Casa Mak… Oh, I didn’t tell you, we’re getting new carpet installed in The Vomitorium (formally, The Front Room) and TBD’s room (which currently has The Worlds Cheapest Berber). .. eventually paint for TBD’s walls… and the realization that I will not be able to wear 2″+ heels through the next 4.5 months…
With all of this and that going on, I’m scouring the circulars and am growing flustered with “sales”.

1) Sale, except for this, this, this and this
An store that has occasionally acceptable shoes and little else (barring their “Goodwill Sale” which even Columbia and counter-make-up is discounted) often runs “sales” but with the attached stipulations: Discount excludes Yellow Dot Clearance, Incredible Value merchandise, Bonus Buys, WebBusters, fine watches, all cosmetics and fragrances, bridge sportswear, Brahmin, Coach handbags, Columbia apparel/outerwear/accessories, Dockers apparel/ accessories, Dooney & Bourke handbags/accessories, Levi’s, Reebok EasyTone, Skechers Shape-ups, electronics/Tech Trek department, all clearance furniture. Also excludes selected regular price women’s, men’s and children’s better apparel, better & designer accessories & shoes, Godiva and better Home Store merchandise & collectibles. Not valid on Breast Cancer Awareness merchandise, special orders and gift cards. Cannot be applied to previously purchased merchandise or mail/phone orders.

Right, so, basically, you can buy a pair of socks. As long as they’re already on sale. Which the socks that Mr. Steve adores hardly are.

2) Sale price which is still too much
“Oh, what a cute ruffled tank top!”
And then I look at the price.
I’m sorry, but if a TANK TOP costs $70, it’d better take me out to dinner, clean itself and make me look stupid adorables. I don’t care if it WAS $155.
IT’S A TANK TOP.

3) The “Good% off the stuff you don’t need, Meh% off the stuff you could use and BLARGH% off things you could actually use” Sale
75% off dining room plates, 5000-thread-count sheets, american-apple decor candle holders, tall men’s dress shirts and trash bowls.
25% off regular sheets, socks, men’s golf shorts, lemonade pitchers, cooling pillows and scented candles
-500% off maternity clothes, cute & functional flat shoes, iced tea/coffee makers and foundation

4) The “ONE DAY!” sale
EVERYONE around here touts their “ONE DAY ONLY!” sale, which actually lasts two days and runs every couple of weeks. With prices that aren’t that much different than regular sale prices…

So, reader(s), do you give up and not comparison shop at all, or do you inspect all the ads and only buy when the buyin’s good?

*I know it’s faux pas…

(Mostly) Wordless Wednesday 05/19/10

Hey peepoles.
Bailey Bean here.
Momma said dis is a “Wordless Wensday” still becuz technillaly, I can’t talks.
Anyway, dis is my butt:

I iz not mid-wags…

I not waggin here needer. I has a case of “limbertail“.

Labradorables like mes gets limbertail (er “Frozen Tail” er “cold water tail”) when we overuses out tales.
Sumtimes it sticks out and sumtimes it stays reall close to my butt.

Ennyways, Dad got me a whole baga tennis balls dat we brought to Mr. Jacks haus on Sunday and tween fetchin en plain en swimmin in da creek, my wagger done ran outta waggin.

Iz more better now!

I Hadn’t Noticed

“Oh my goodness!”
“What?”
“You’re sunburnt!”
“WHAT?!?! WHERE?!”
“On your chest!”
“I hadn’t noticed!”

wh-wh-whhhaaatttt?

Please to note: all other t-shirts which are soft have different “V”s, button downs are too scratchy, crew-necks rub against it.
Also note: I was wearing a t-shirt yesterday, yet no burn on my arms. No burn on my face. I had my pants rolled up and my shoes off, also burnless.

http://www.nataliedee.com

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Now playing: Nine Inch Nails – Suck
via FoxyTunes

“That was a Very ‘Stephanie’ Thing to Watch…”

If you know me at all, you know I’m just clumsy.

On a trip to the restroom, I noticed my hair needed a brush. Back at my desk,  I pulled out my trusty $1-glitter-handled brush.
My boss, meanwhile, comes up and asks me about the new coffee service.
At the same time, the handle breaks off of the brushy part, spraying glitter and petroleum-smelling liquid on my shirt, sweater and hair.
My bosses head turns sideways-like and says, “What just happened? Why is there glitter everywhere?”
“UUUUGGGGHHHH!!!!”, I screech. I’ve got glitter and liquid in a huge patch on my boob…
In the kitchen, I realize that the liquid is oil based as my already fine hair starts to clump.
Short of washing my entire head in the ladies room sink, I took some Dawn and washed out the oiled clump and tried removing the stain from my shirt.
I tell my boss that I’m going to run to the Ghetto Polyester Store next door and see if I can find an acceptable top (result, fail). He chuckles, “You know, that was a very ‘Stephanie’ thing to watch… the water going up and over…the glitter…”

An hour later, My shirt is dry, looks wet, smells like an oil slick.
The oil is spreading through my hair and I have a dinner engagement on the opposite side of town.

This kind of thing happens to everyone, right?

For illustrative purposes here I am in the restroom at work, showing the oil slick (left of the camera) and the oily ends of my hair.

(mind you, this outfit looked 100% better with the flyaway sweater… hid the hips)

Trying to Shake it Off

If you didn’t know yet, I am taking yoga once a week.
Yoga’s always been good to me and I felt like I needed to mix up my fitness routine.

I guess the stresses of the past week* took its toll more than I expected… it was IMPOSSIBLE to unwind at class.
Typically, I get in the zone and am so focused that whatever was on my mind is replaced by keeping my shoulders down/staying aligned/not tipping over.
Not last night.
Holy crap, I was teetering all  over the place, using my shoulders as earrings and I was late to class.
Even during the apres workout relaxation my mind was a freight train; as it continued through the entire night, pretty much stopping between the hours of 430am and 630am.

I hate the feeling of not being able to “let go”.
During relaxation, I was going over things in my head… “The day is done, let it go.”, “You can not solve that problem until tomorrow.”, “Focus on your breathing” and the like.
No dice.
Plus, all this pent-up whateveritis isn’t doing my physce any favors.

Suggestions?
Please to note: I can’t take long hot baths or drink or go on a rampage with a weapon. Well, technically, I guess I could, it’s just ill-advised.

*Friday: Trip to Erie with Annoyance, which takes a lot of energy to “be good”. Then when I took a nap, I got bit by a spider.
Saturday: Family party with legions of rude children** and overly-nosy/rude questions (“are you excited?”, “What do you mean you’re not having a theme for the room?”, “Just wait until…”, very unwelcome attempts at bump contact…) and a lot of energy to be good.
Sunday: Additional family interactivity including more “Just wait until…” Not to mention I had a severe bout of I-don’t-feel-good-itis and a hell of a lot of room-making-stretching-pain. Oh, and I’m onto the cousin who told their kid to touch my belly as much as possible and I do not like it. Oh and the expelled energy to “be good”.
Monday: Catch up all day from work I couldn’t do on Friday.

**The room (it was Steve’s cousin’s communion) was crowded (due to the extreme weather, we were all smooshed inside) and I was trapped between the end of a 8-foot table and an end table.
This 6-8 year old girl wedges herself between people and hops up on the sofa. No issue.
Then she decides she wants to see the fish tank that’s on the end table.
She’s trying to get over the arm of the sofa, meanwhile, she’s bumping into and kicking my arm.
I had had enough. “EXCUSE ME. Am I in your way?”
“Yes.”
“Well first of all, this is a table, not a seat…”
“I want to see the fish.”
“You can see the fish from the sofa.”
And Steve gives me this did-you-just-yell-at-someone-else’s-child look.
So I tell him, “Do you want to switch seats and sit here and get kicked? No? Then I guess you have nothing to say.”

Figures…

No sooner do I get the reaction on my arm mostly cleared up…

(silly bathroom photo sessions)

Then THIS happens

My knuckle’s not supposed to be that large…

Her’e’s my left hand:
 

And here’s my left hand with some googly eyes on it:

Anyway, I got bit by a spider (the same type that bit Steve 2 weeks ago) and now I’m all swollen and achy because I’m swollen.
Guh.
Did I mention that I”m right-handed? and can’t really bend my middle finger (great for driving, bad for everything else).

How’s your Saturday going?

(and yes, I called the doctor and No, I don’t have to worry unless I stop breathing… which would worry me regardless of the status of my knuckle.)