Oy, what a day

I spent my day at work in a nine hour bankruptcy deposition. The case is really heartbreaking. The couple filing for bankruptcy only have $1.2 million left in assets and $129 million debt.Just let that sink in for a minute. Things have gotten so bad for them, they had to sell the horses, all three of their boats and almost all of their cars. They're down to only one home in the Portland area, in a lovely rural town on 20 acres, and a second home in Scottsdale. Other than that, they're broke.

Are you crying yet?

The most disheartening part of this entire scenario? I had on a cute cleavagey black and grey wrap dress with a sweater and both of the attorneys were (a) young women (b) super cute (c) and wearing suits with ruffled shirts. One had on a black suit with an ivory shirt and the ruffles were lace. The other had on wool pants with a light gray jacket and a dark gray ruffled tuxedo shirt underneath. One had a cute brunette pixie haircut and the other had curly red hair, like the bad vampire girl in the Twilight movies.

FEELING FRUMPY, WHO? My hair felt very sensible and the combination of wrap dress with sweater went from cute to tragically slutty grandma.

Also? When did the attorneys get younger than me? And doctors? And dentists?

Not cool. At all.

PS: When did the ruffled shirt become a fashion trend? And why do I not have one?

FASHION UPDATE: So I had day two of the same case today. Pixie lawyer had on grey wool dress with black blazer, black tights and lace-up booties. Twilight vampire lawyer had on black slacks, a grey ruffled tuxedo shirt and a jean jacket and a ton of huge jewelry. I WANT TO BE COOL. I WANT TO BE HIP AND TRENDY. Bitches.

I am an awesome mom... the mood swing edition

A belated ode to myself on Mother's Day. Coincidentally, as of yesterday, May 11, I have been a mother for 23 years. Carlie is by no means the first victim of my parenting. Go Maggy! Way to age!

Happy Birthday, eldest one

LAZIEST MOM EVER: Woke up on time, but dicked around on Facebook to the point of being OMG WE'RE LATE late this morning.

GROSSEST MOM EVER: Eight minutes past the time we normally leave for school, I left the house wearing dirty yoga pants picked up off of the floor, over my nightgown, which I tucked into the yoga pants, and then put on my disgusting red sweatshirt over the top (more on that later). And flip flops. And yesterday's mascara. And a giant tangled knot of hair on the back of my head. Doesn't matter, I'm just dropping her off anyway. Famous last words.

MEANEST MOM EVER: Made Carlie were socks that "don't work" for her. And then scolded her for the less-than-two-mile drive to school about the fact that she JUST CLEANED OUT HER DRESSER, so why does she still have anything in there that "doesn't work"? (And on an unrelated/related somewhat note: This child has had sock issues since she was 18 months old. ENOUGH ALREADY with the effing socks.)

AWESOMEST MOM EVER aka ENABLER MOM: Clandestinely snuck into Carlie's school (see outfit above) and stole a pair of socks from the "I peed my pants" stash of spare clothes. Wherein *clandestinely* = we were in the dark stealing socks and some helpful passer-by popped in and said, "You could use some light" and turned on the damned light and totally outed us on our covert mission.

We're moving in TEN DAYS. My current Facebook status reads: I've passed the point of panic and have settled into mellow acceptance of the fact that it is all going to go horribly wrong. And that? Is not a joke.

UPDATE: My disgusting sweatshirt is over 20 years old. It belonged to my mother and somehow came home with me after she died. It is made of the *fur* that stuffed animals are made of, but not, like, beanie baby or webkinz stuffed animals, I mean the stuffed animals you win at the carnival. And, bonus points, it cannot be washed because it has a hole (as being modeled with two fingers sticking out of it) that will get bigger if washed.

and it is not even National Cleavage Day UPDATE: It's official, I am whacked

Imagine my surprise when I left work, went to the post office and saw my reflection in the glass door as I am walking into the post office. Seriously. And it's not even National Cleavage Day. My bad.

In news unrelated to me being slutty, I am THISCLOSE to registering for a Half Marathon on June 7. Even if you don't run, click on the link and tell me if it doesn't look like the BEST TIME EVER. Except for, like, the running 13.1 miles part. But still.

UPDATE: I just registered for the half marathon. Pray for my soul.

UPDATE 2: Fuck! As soon as I paid for the race and went to book the hotel, I learn the hotel is booked full. Did I mention... fuck!

UPDATE 3: There's another hotel right next door, but the dickhead desk guy is only booking for two nights on marathon weekend, not single nights. DICKHEAD.

UPDATE 4: OK. Booking a room three blocks away in what appears to be a quite seedy "inn" with no views and "locking bathrooms just down the hall."

UPDATE 5: Praise the Lord, the no tell motel had a room with an "in suite private bath" as opposed to the "locking bathrooms just down the hall." So I booked it. It's official. I am running a half marathon June 7.

Because she's nine, that's why

Carlie (age 9) wears a uniform to school every day. You'd think that would make things easy in the morning, no? Unfortunately, of the 97 white polo shirts she owns, she only likes two of them. Two. So she rotates them and just wears those two shirts, every day.

This, plus another unfortunate event in which she made a sass-mouth comment about her lack of clean laundry, resulted in Carlie learning how to do her own laundry and now being responsible for washing her own clothes.

So tonight, with school looming in the morning, I said, "Hey, you need to put your clothes in the washer so you'll have something to wear to school tomorrow."

And she said, "Okay," and she took a basket of laundry down to the basement.

Before she went to bed I said, "Hey, you need to put those clothes in the dryer so you'll have something to wear to school tomorrow."

And she said "Okay," and she went downstairs and took the clothes out of the washer and put them into the dryer.

I was feeling all smuggy at bedtime, thinking wow, I've got that kid trained! And when I went into the laundry room to wash a load of towels, I decided to be a kind and generous mom and retrieve her clothing from the dryer and bring it upstairs. That way, in the morning, it'll be right there and she won't have to trek down to the basement.

Imagine my surprise when I opened the dryer and the contents were: two pairs of jeans, a tee shirt, three bath towels and one sneaker.

No white polo shirts, no plaid skorts, nothing that she can wear to school.

Tomorrow morning should be interesting.

I have butt cleavage today...

and, sadly, it is more like this...than like this...

As it turns out, I guess I was wrong about all of those girls, aged 12-25, who walk around with their coin slot exposed. They aren't trashy after all! It's the jeans, people, it's the jeans.

Today I put on my "costume" jeans, which I bought in the junior department, because Hannah Montana does not wear mom jeans and I am Hannah Montana for Halloween. I thought today would be a good day to wear them, you know, to make sure I can walk and bend and breath and whatnot. The jeans are a size too big and they are baggy. Why did I buy new jeans a size too big? Because every freaking pair of junior sized jeans with skinny legs measures about 3" from the crotch to the waist band. All of them. I have already ranted about this enough and won't do it again now.

Anyway, no matter how high I hike them up or how much of a self-inflicted wedgie I walk around with, I still have plumber's butt.

Don't judge me. It's the jeans. I swear.

Work first, play later

Well, I am now in complete overwhelmed mode because I am not EVEN close to being where I need to be work-wise in order to go work-free on our mini-vacay Sunday. And tomorrow, Friday, I am helping Tim move to his new office, Friday night I have a GNO (Girls Night Out) for SANGRIA and munchies and a movie (and I'm not cancelling that for work! ha!), Saturday we have a family party to go to courtesy of Carlie's school auction (complete with bounce house and face painting, joy!) and then Sunday we are on vacay until Tuesday. If I don't get my ass in gear and finish up with work, I'll be proofreading and editing from the Great Wolf Water Park, which would suck enormous wang.

What else is going on on the sucky front today? Let's see. Oh, part of the mountain of overwhelming work is now past due, and with today being the end of the month, that means I've missed getting it submitted for this pay cycle, which means I'll be getting paid for it in something like a year from now (possibly a slight exaggeration, but only slight).

But then again, who needs to get paid when you find deals like this! Went to Kohl's to buy school uniform pants for Carlie (unsuccessfully) and found work pants for myself for $3.60 per pair. Granted, they're some off brand and not exactly cutting edge chic, but I swear they look like at least $10 pants (haha). No, really, black pants and gray pants to wear with work tops and jackets that I already have... for $3.60 per pair.

And also on the not sucky front today... said almost-free pants are two sizes smaller than pants I purchased a mere six months ago. Booyah! Still not where I want to be pants-size wise, but 35 lbs down is definitely showing in my pants. Also bought three pairs of shorts, a couple of tee shirts and a pair of running shorts. All smaller than what I have because my clothes are all too big. Not that I'm not excited about walking around in my baggy-ass clothes, but it's getting old. I am saving one gigantic pair of fat jeans so when I am at my goal weight I can take the obligatory standing-in-one-pant-leg after photo.

Back to work for me. Yipee... NOT.