This Is the Grossest Thing I've Ever Done And You're Going To Hear About It, Lucky Internet
Friday, August 5, 2011

Hey everybody!

No, I haven't fallen off the face of the Earth. 

In case you haven't heard, the earth isn't that flat thing we once thought. Also too, in case you didn't know, there are no sea monsters on the ends of the flat earth waiting to gobble us up and that isn't actually a man in the moon. 

At least . . .  that I know of. They might not be telling us everything, you know. 

No, I've just been busy with some traveling and it was the kind of traveling where every day we had to get up and go- go-go. I hate that kind of frenzy. And so I just unplugged. Sometimes it's easier that way.

Today though, I actually have a moment of not go-go-going and since I live down here in Florida, I wanted to reassure you, Internet, that I haven't been murdered by our most famous citizen, Casey Anthony.

This morning I got online for the first time in a few days and checked all the most important news (TMZ) and I saw that she was in Ohio? Does she not think Ohioans are up on the latest controversial murder trials? If I were her, I'd move to Kabul or Darfur, or somewhere magical like that, where they know exactly how to handle her kind of fun. 

Since she's hunkering down in Ohio, I thought to myself: Whew, Self, you are safe, man. (I always call myself man. It's a comradery thing.) And then I remembered Casey the Psychopath only kills children, her own children at that, so I think we Floridians and all of Ohio can rest easy. 

But let's not go there, shall we?

Anyway, here's what I've been up to:

On the first part of our travels, we were in Pensacola for my father-in-law's military internment. 

I've never had the privilege of witnessing a military memorial service. It was such a beautiful thing, to watch these men of the Honor Guard, so regal in their dress uniforms and steadfast in their duties—six impeccably dressed soldiers who ceremoniously folded the flag in precise execution—the honor guardsman who bent down and presented my mother-in-law that flag with his crisp white gloves, whispering words of thanks on behalf of the Marine Corp and the United States for my father-in-law's many years of service. And then the solitary soldier who played Taps on his bugle and the 21-gun salute from the rifle squad. When the sad, beautiful notes of Taps resonated through the morning air, that was the moment I officially became undone. That all of us became undone.

Afterwards, the entire family ventured over to the Naval Aviation Museum on the base. It's an incredible place, free to the public, one of the world's largest aviation museums. 

AND as a whopping bonus, the Pensacola base is the home of the Blue Angels. 

At any point in time, you can find some of those hunkie Blue Angel pilots just wandering about the museum answering people's questions and I don't know, maybe letting people try on their cool Top Gun sunglasses and who knows, letting certain people squeeze their biceps . . . you know, if they wanted to.

Just regular need to know military stuff like that. 

My sister-in-law who grew up in Pensacola, verified that quite often on a field trip they would run into a Maverick or a Goose. 

Sadly, it did not happen on our visit there. And trust me, I was looking in every nook and cranny for those blue jumpsuited hotties. 

After the service, we spent some time with family and friends. 

For the record, I do not have man hands. I don't know why my hands look all thick and veiny in these pictures, because my hands are the slimmest thing I've got going these days. They are not woodcutter hands. And yes, observant ones, my engagement ring is not on my hand because my diamond fell out! And I found it! And since I have used up my exclamation point quota for the day, this will be a story for another day. My stories for another day queue is getting quite long. I've been thinking about putting the Empress in charge of the stories I need to tell, because we all know that lovely woman doesn't have enough to do with her time. Just being the keynote speaker and one of the Voices of the Year over at the BlogHer conference right now. 

Allie and her son Jack, who will marry my daughter Tori someday, (both mothers are insistent upon this), came down for a visit. 

This is Tori and Jack at the Cabbage Patch Birthing Center or whatever that doll factory is called over in Georgia.
Aren't they perfectly scrumptious?

We had a great time with Allie and Jack but because the kids were with us we had to behave, so there was no stealing of tampons or any other of our typical outrageous behavior. Allie did express great disappointment in me, that I didn't sneak into Bono's hotel suite when I had the opportunity, sleeping right underneath my boyfriend like that. She told me if she'd been there we would have stolen some housekeeping uniforms and made our way into his suite and had one hell of a party with my man.

And you know what? She's absolutely right. I'm braver with her by my side. She's that kind of tampon thieving, rock star stalking kind of friend. She and I would have made great groupies back in the day. 

We also had a magnificent time with my hub's family. 

We caught up with each other, drank wine, broke bread over some of my mother-in-law's succulent gourmet feasts. 

And enjoyed the splendor of Pensacola's powdered sugar sandy beaches.

I love the Panhandle beaches. I think they're hands down, the prettiest beaches I've ever seen. 

And I've been around. 

Beaches, that is. 

Here's my favorite spot in all the Panhandle. Everyone from this part of Florida knows this exact spot. It's the moment you hit the peak of the bridge going into Destin. The water here is this azure blue, sparkling like jewels in the sunlight. 

We stayed at Jimmy Buffet's place, Margaritaville. We didn't actually stay at Jimmy's house. Because that would have been very tacky of Jimmy, since we paid to stay under his roof. 
I love this curved wall with the giant photo of a Gulf sunset and I love, love, love the tile floors. No disgusting hotel carpet. And yes, we are tidy travelers as you can well see by the clothes hanging off of the top of the closet and the towels on the floor.

The heat wave so affecting the country, hit Florida like a giant, wet heating pad set on maximum high while we were up in the Panhandle.

On our last day there, it was 104 in the shade. 

This was the only way I could find respite from the blaze. 

After Pensacola, we drove nine hours over to the Land of the Mouse. 

Our college girl, Olivia, was moving into a new apartment and she had to be out of her old apartment by noon on the 1st. 

And here's the thing about that. 

She had to be out of one apartment by the 1st, but she couldn't move into her new apartment until the 14th. So, she was going to be stuck in two weeks of limbo. And since the girl has a job and summer classes, she needed a place to live. So we struck a deal with the new apartment. 

She could move in August 1st under one condition. 

She would have to take the apartment uncleaned. 

The painting and repair work from the last tenant would be done in the next few weeks, but the cleaning was up to us. 

And since I'm a germaphobe, who likes things, my kind of clean or in the words of my kid, "Your way of cleaning borders on insanity." And since I would have cleaned the place even after the cleaning crew was done, I told them I was up for the task. 

They tried to persuade us otherwise, but I was all, "How bad can it be?"

Because clearly, I've never experienced the ungodliness of four frat boys living under one roof. 

Four frat boys. 

Under one roof. 

And ungodly is a huuuuge understatement. 

I walked into my daughter's bathroom and backed out in a horrified daze. I would have gasped, but I didn't want to inhale any of the biohazard fumes. 

The punk/little assbag/turdhead/bastard/douchebag, who had lived in my daughter's room was a barbarian of the crudest proportions.

This bathroom was the worst thing I've ever seen. 

Worse than the filthiest gas station bathroom I've ever encountered. Worse than an airline toilet after an all-day flight. where they served jumbo Mexican burritos for lunch. Worse than a men's bathroom in the NYC Greyhound bus terminal. Worse than a port-a-let after Ozzfest.  

So brace yourself. Because . . .  Here. It. Comes. 

The mirror was spattered with toothpaste and sludge of an unknown sort, so heavy, I could not see myself. The sink took an entire roll of paper towels and bleach to remove all the hair. 

And speaking of bleach, I used up two bottles. 

The bathtub was caked in filth of all kinds of mysterious origins. 

The door was grimy and covered in black and yellow stains. 

And the toilet?

I have never. 

Never, ever, ever seen anything like this.

And I shared a bathroom with three brothers, growing up.

Urine stains covered and I mean covered/coated the front of the toilet and the floor. Like the cretin had just stopped bothering to aim for the toilet and just peed in the general proximity. 

But that wasn't the worst part. 

The worst part was the dried vomit in every crevice and surface of that toilet. 

I am so sorry. 

But I had to tell you Internet, because cleaning that kind of nasty was the grossest thing I have ever done. 

And no, I wasn't going to let my daughter near that. Because number one, she's my daughter and my job is to protect her from things like hepatitis and all the other funk that disgusting beast probably had going on in that toilet. And number two, I didn't trust anyone but myself to sanitize that thing properly. 

So with two sets of rubber gloves protecting my hands, an old t-shirt, protecting my clothes and a few bouts of my own retching, I killed every bit of disgusting filth in that toilet. 

Everything is sparkly and fresh smelling in her apartment now. 

And when my daughter brings her repair list up to the office, I will be right next to her, to let management know what kind of vermin they had living under their roof. 

And too? If given the chance, I promise you, I would drag this scumbag frat pig by his obviously hairy head into a port-a-let where I would give him the biggest swirly of his life, then I'd lock him in and tip that sewage box over, letting him see how it feels to be up close and personal to other people's filth. 

Okay. I feel better now. Thank you for letting me vent, Internet. 

The gross part is over and I'm still here in the Land of the Mouse. 

You see, we have a timeshare that we rarely use. And always, at the last minute, we find ourselves going, "Crap, we forgot to use the timeshare, again." And if you don't use it, you lose it.  Kind of like so many other things in life.

And of course, there's nothing left in the timeshare world when you wait until the last minute. 

When I looked up timeshares for this week there was Beirut and Orlando. 

I think that speaks for itself. 

And since I didn't feel like wearing a burqa or keeping an eye out for suicide bombers, we chose the lesser version of Hell and I am now ensconced in the Land of Scorching Heat, brimming with foreigners who don't understand the concept of personal body space or the etiquette of lining up in an orderly queue. 

The other day, we met some friends from out of town, at Epcot. 

Somebody got some Dumbo cotton candy and pretended it was for the girls. 

By the time I walked from France to Italy, a Forrest Gump kind of undertaking in the real world, but only a few short steps away from each other in the magical land of Disney, I was melting like the Wicked Witch. I was sweating and my hair was going to shit and this is never, ever good. And on top of that, there were those foreigners with their pushing and shoving and no concept of personal space which is offensive to me on a regular basis, but when we're all trying to find air pockets and sweaty people are on top of me in my air pocket, it sometimes gets a mite ugly. 

For the foreigners. 

I will not be going back there anytime soon. The foreigners can thank me.

So, for the rest of the week, we will be spending our time in air conditioning or one of the many pools here at the time share. And since I'm not a big fan of public pools which to me are like one giant peehole, my vote is for air conditioning. 

My hubs had to go back to our home to make the doughnuts, so I'm here with three daughters who are all clamoring for back to school clothes and things for a new apartment. 

On our first night here, we went to dinner in a restaurant that was in the middle of one of the many fancy boutique areas of this tourist town. My baby, my 13 year old, who has always been more interested in the insects she can dig up in the dirt and the tadpoles that live in the shallow pockets of the lake, stopped in front of a shop window, admiring the displays. 

Upon waking today, she said to me, "Mom, can we go back to that shop from the other night, the one called Armani?"

Pray for me, Internet. I'm stuck in the broiling heat in the Land of the Mouse and these dag-blasted neck breathing foreigners. It's going to be a tough rest of the week. 

I'll be back next week to finish the second part of my Open Heart tale. 

I'll see you next week and I PROMISE to catch up with you all then. I have been a rude friend and I will be better. This I promise you.

Update: I started this the other day, but I haven't been able to finish it because I spent the entire day shopping with my girls one day. And here's what I have to say about that: 

They have a three-story Forever 21, here. 

The hours we spent in that techno-beat nightmare were almost as hellish as Disney World. And then yesterday, I went over to my college girl's apartment to get her organized. And when I say organized, I mean I wanted to be able to see her floor before the day was over. She had to work an 8-hour shift and so I volunteered to stay and organize her clutter. She left and I had no idea where her TV remote was under all of her crap. Her TV is one controlled by the remote, only and so I was stuck cleaning her room while the Jersey Shore Marathon played. 

For hours. 

Have you seen this show? It is horrific and I Could. Not. Stop. Watching. It. 

These people with their awful hair and even worse tans and smushing of anyone and everyone and their unbelievable stupidity and fist pumping. It was like the worst car crash of all time and I could not look away. The casting directors of MTV are genius, that's for sure. Who would have thought a bunch of morons from New Jersey would make fabulous TV? 

And now, I must really go because we are meeting friends at Hollywood Studios. I wasn't going back, but my family are freaks who can obviously never get enough pushing and shoving. If you hear about any foreigners getting murdered there while standing in a line, please don't mention my name. 

That's all I'm sayin. No download today because I've got to go get all crabby. 

I'll see you next week when I'll be home and happy.   


Unknown said...

What a good mom you are to sanitize the animal house! I hope she appreciates you! I've never watched Jersey Shore, but I have the same type of mortified fascination with the Housewives of NYC.

matzekatze said...

Hey man,

and HELLO Blue Angels!

I like your hands, same size as Blue Angel-hands but the manicure is better.

As innocent as Jack looks next to your daughter but I guess his bathroom looks just like the one you had to :)

Very funny post! Enjoy your trip and pls don't forget the article you wanted to send me!


Mr. Proper aka matzekatze

Joann Mannix said...

Dearest Matze,

Since you don't have a blog, I must respond to you in the comments.

I have great faith that you are not a man who does that to a bathroom. That is why we are friends.

And just to verify that email is:

Got it. Thanks!

The Bipolar Diva said...

yuck! boys and bathrooms! We made a decree about 10 years ago....ALL MALES MUST SIT TO PEE! PERIOD!
That drink you have looks fab, and for the record, I'd rather have foreigners to stay in their own country when I'm on vacation.

twelvedaysold said...

Ugh. That heat sounds horrible.

And I'll say this, I'm not a very clean person. I can handle grime on the floor behind the toilet and not scrubbing the corners, and I also look at a cobweb in the ceiling and don't think at all about cleaning it (it's a slow process to remove the blinders I have), but I would


not clean a toilet before I moved out. At least wipe down the main grime, that's my thing. Vacuum the floors, wipe down the counters, don't leave any trace of feces in the toilet. I can't believe you had to clean a bathroom that was disgusting. I would have been with you, thinking "what's the worst they could have done?"

Glad you're back!

LisaPie said...


The very next time I get over to DW, I am calling you first thing! My favorite thing to do is to drink my way through Epcot. One drink in each country. Wearing a stupid Disney hat. Nice parenting skills, wouldn't you say?

I have seen apts. like that when I was moving my kids from one rental to another up in Boulder. And let me just tell you that CO. boys are just as gross and disgusting as FL boys. They act like they were raised in barns. Filthy, disgusting barns. I got the heebee geebees just thinking about some of the places I have seen.

You should have done like the two British "How Clean is your House" ladies and sniffed each and every disgusting thing and then made someone else sniff it for confirmation of how horrendous it was!

Oh! One more thing. The times i have been to DW we went in January. No one there but Argentines and Brazilians due to it being summer down there and cold, wet winter in Orlando. No crowds, no problems. But yeah, Argentines tend to not recognize personal space. I told a guy in line behind me at the airport one time that I could tell exactly how much change he had in his front pockets.

He just laughed. Heee!!!!

JoAnna said...

You must read my mind because just today i realized it's been way too long since you've chimed in. And today, you did not disappoint. I am sooooooo horrified by that bathroom but so not surprised. 4 frat boys under one roof with no cleaning person cannot be a good thing. I was always surprised that our on campus apartments had their bathrooms cleaned every week by paid staff but i figured out what after some time. They'd never be able to let another person stay there if the boys were left to their own cleaning. You must have been so high off those bleach fumes when you were done!!

Unknown said...

I used to live in PCola!

I have waited tables on those glorious beaches and sat under those Blue Angels doing their thang!

Ps...the rest? So nasty I am without comment. Thanks sooooo much for sharing.

TesoriTrovati said...

Wahoo! That is a LOT of hell. I will tell you something, at the risk of you hating me forever, but I do love the Land of the Mouse... in theory. All those peoples sort of bug the bejeezus out of me though. And waiting in line pushes me over.the.edge. But I hear it is nice in Beirut this time of year.

And that bigass maragarita? MMMMM. Sign me up. That is the way I would deal with the heat. And for some reason, I think that you and your tampon-snitching friend Allie and I would have one heckuva good time. Just sayin'.

And thanks for the picks of you! I am working on your super-(not so)-secret project and this post just gave me some awesome inspiration.

Not that it will have mouse ears or anything.

(Unless you want that sort of thing.)


Enjoy the day... in hell! BAH!
(My hell is starting tonight. My 25th class reunion. And I just found out that outside the bar where we are meeting tonight is the annual Corn on the Curb. Yes. There will corn. On the curb. And beer tents and bands, so I'm told. But there will also be people I haven't seen since 1986 and for good reason. So a crowd eating corn on the curb might be just the thing to get lost in. ;-P

Jennifer M. said...

Believe me, I understand your issue with the heat. I've lived in Miami my whole life and I still haven't gotten used to the humidity. Its awful.

Beautiful pics of the Pensacola Beaches. They make Miami's beaches look like crap I think. I can't stand our beaches down here. I think it is more the people than the beaches. I try to stay away from the beaches especially South Beach. Too many freaks over there. Your pics make me wanna go visit Pensacola now. I was there a long time ago and don't remember anything.

Your post about the apartment had me laughing and retching at the same time. How disgusting and no wonder they were making her wait two weeks before moving. They probably didn't want to deal with it cause they knew how filthy it was. Gross!

BTW, you are CRAZY to go to Disney in the summer. I REFUSE! It is way tooooooooo hot in Orlando in the summer. The heat coupled with pushy people and long lines makes me not happy. That is why I visit the mouse around October - December.

Enjoy the rest of your vacation. :)


Unknown said...

Good Lord, I feel sorry for the women that ever end up with those frat boys. I made the mistake of going to an upstairs bathroom at a frat party once and almost considered peeing outside instead of that germhole. That said, my small and independable bladder has taught me to be less critical of where I go. And made my thighs quite nice due to all the hovering.

I really think you need some sort of medal for cleaning that.

Livin' In Duckville said...

Glad to hear that you're still hangin' around & in fact, did NOT drop off the side of the earth. Whew!!

I know I read your whole post, but I can't get the thought of that bathroom out of my head.... It's makin' me all gaggy.... I can't imagine you having to clean it!! I think, even 'cashmere' would have survived a backwoods camping trip would have been better than having to clean that bio hazard!! You, my friend, are a brave soul!

Can't wait to hear about your other adventures. Stay cool!

Dazee Dreamer said...

you are a superhero. you know that right. you cleaned that bathroom. I would have been retching and screaming and telling my daughter there was no way in hell she was living there. breathing, breathing.

W.C.Camp said...

The least you could do for us stuck in a much duller blogosphere than your own is TAKE A PICTURE wearing Minnie Mouse EARS!!! Enjoy the A.C. and looking forward to the ending! W.C.C.

Suburban Correspondent said...

You should have used a blowtorch to sanitize that bathroom. And this Forever21 is definitely more of a nightmare than the one you were in.

Alison said...

Blue Angels - HELLO!!!

That toilet you just described? I just threw up in my mouth a little. I would have been dry heaving so much I wouldn't be able to keep cleaning - you are an awesome mom and human being!

MY Inner Chick said...

OMG, is that what Blue Angels look like. WHEW....
Glad to have you back! It's about time.
your blog is perfectly scrumptious!
PS. How the hell does toothpaste get on the mirrors? They are on mine, too. xxxx

MrsJenB said...

Oh my god you are an absolutely warrior to have cleaned that toilet. You poor, poor woman. How could anyone live like that???

Meanwhile, I hope you're trying to make the best of your time in Mouseland. It's my favorite place, pretty much. But I haven't been many places. I felt the need to disclose that.

MrsJenB said...

Oh, and the Blue Angels? Siiiigh. Dreamy.

Cheeseboy said...

I hope that kid plans on becoming a blue angel, because I doubt your daughter will want anything but after seeing that display.

"For the kids" is always my excuse when buying garbage food too.

karen said...

Loved the pictures of the Destin beaches. My newest daughter in law is from that area - Niceville, actually. Such pretty beaches.
I did not love your cleaning story. Boys' apartments are wretched. I think I married the only boy who likes - nay INSISTS - on having a clean house. Your story brought back foul memories of college boys' apartments where you'd rather pee your pants than use their bathroom.
I hope you get home soon. I don't know how you stand several days of Disney World. I live by Disneyland, and I can barely take one day of it when the grandkids come! Hang in there -

mdgtjulie said...

Wow, what a post!!! You've been super busy. No wonder you don't like to go go go!!! I hope you get back home safely, and that your daughter is comfy in her new apt. It always takes a few days to get used to!!! We did something similar when my sister moved out of the dorm and into an apartment. It was just as horrible!!!!

Shell said...

I hope you have a drink like that every day.

That bathroom? Makes me feel like mine isn't that bad, even though I want to throw up every day when I have to clean up after my little men.

A three story Forever 21? I can't imagine. I get a headache just walking past that store, though I'm sometimes tempted by their incredibly cheap prices.

Hope the crowds don't get to you too bad!

I would be tempted to pack up one or two of my children(not all three, because that is just crazy talk) and join you. B/c they beg for the mouse.

Mrs. Tuna said...

The apartment sounds absolutely horrific, maybe even worse then Beirut.

FranceRants said...

Whew what a post!

Thanks for the awesome update (and the pictures...especially those hot military guys...and your unmanly like hands...)

Just A Normal Mom said...

"Worse than an airline toilet after an all-day flight. where they served jumbo Mexican burritos for lunch." - That right there? That made me put my lunch away before I read anymore.

Those Blue Angel boys were just flying over my head here in Seattle yesterday. Love their shows!

Memoirs of Me & Mine said...

Despite the apartment, the trip sounds wonderful.

Judie said...

I think I would have taken photos of that bathroom, before and after, to show the landlord. I am reallly ocd about bathrooms, especially public ones where you have to open the door to get outside after you have just washed your hands. I carry disinfectant wipes with me for the sole purpose of opening those doors. If I run out of them, I get a whole wad of toilet paper to open the door with, and then I toss it into a corner of the bathroom when I leave. Yes, it is tacky to do that, but I do not give a rusty F***. Oh, and I use my elbow to push the door open to get out of the restaurant or mini-mart. Then, when I get back in the car, I use a Wet One to wipe my elbow. Do you think I am mentally ill? Just curious.

Liz said...

Living where I do, I know many a Memphian who has vacationed in "The Redneck Riviera". My good friend is headed that way in a few weeks and planning to watch the Blue Angels practice.

I'm kinda bummed there are no photos. I'd seriously want to see that nastiness.

Craig had a masty-ass roommate once, before we got married. I used to clean that bathroom and kitchen because I was so grossed out to otherwise use it.

His roommate was just gross. He used to drink milk out of this one beer stein day after day after day. Without ever washing the glass. He would drink it, let the glass sit all day long on the counter, and then repour that night or the next morning. I guess stomaches get used to bacteria after awhile.

Mom vs. the boys said...

oooohhh you are a good mother, a very very good mother for touching any of that nasty filth! sorry to say that my kids would be on their own. I hope your daughter knows what a hero you are!

Unknown said...

O thank you. You have such good literary ability that you're able to create precise, colorful and moving pictures in the minds of your readers.

So glad your skill was put to good use in that description.

The Random Blogette said...

I would've died seeing that bathroom. You are such a good mom to go in there and take care of it for her. I seriously can't believe that they wouldn't even clean it for you. Geez!

At least the rest of your time has been fun. That looks like an amazing drink. I could so use one of those right now!

Sandra said...

First of all, thanks for the military eye candy! And I have to say, I always love your tampon-stealing-friend-Allie stories!
Love the pics of you the most though. And can I say, that is one big-ass drink! You could have put on your bikini and swam in that badboy, maaaan!

Meg at the Members Lounge said...

Oh Joann - the horror of that bathroom. I'm picturing a sacrificial burning of all clothing that was worn during the process of cleaning that toilet. Douchbag, indeed!

And seriously, that drink. You are so my kind of blogger.

Amanda said...

I used to live in Pensacola when my dad was in the Navy.

That bathroom situation is absolutely foul. Once, after college, I lived in a 3 bedroom apartment with 6 girls who all had boyfriends staying over. We were nowhere near that disgusting and neither were our boyfriends. Although, I will say, we went through about 57 gallons of Drano.

Also, here in Texas it is 4,000 degrees, so I feel your pain. I'm starting to forget what my hair looks like when it's not a frizzy mess glued to my forehead by sweat.

I will leave you with that nice image.

Nicki said...

My bathrooms have been resembling frat rooms more and more lately!!! Gross! And for the record, your hands look ever so soft in the pic with the drink so I totally believe you that you don't have man hands!! That beach is breath-taking!!!

Diana said...

Annnnnnnnnnd here I am on YOUR blog {while you're reading my blog, muwahahaha!} and enjoying soooo many of these things you wrote about. I'm definitely going to be coming back for more visits to you. You write AWESOME blog posts. {By the way, yes, Ghost Ranch is in northcentral New Mexico :) } I've not witnessed a military funeral... but if "Taps" being played is anything like how I feel when they play "Amazing Grace" at a regular funeral.... well, then, I can totally understand. *sniffle* Anyway... Oh man, I'm gonna hafta read that post... something about tampon stealing?? Sounds like something I would do {even now}. We've been dealing with the 100+ temps here in Kansas for... yeah, well over a month. But finally... FINALLY!!!... rain the past couple days and now it's in the LOW 80s. *woot* Oh dear... I'm ramblin' on. Anyway, THANK YOU for coming to visit me on my blog. I've decided I'm adding you to my blog list (you know, those widgets on the right... or left) and coming back here for more. I drink Dr. Pepper... keep some on hand for me, please. P. S. Ewwwwwwwww about the bathroom part. *gag* Thanks for that. LOL!! ♥

Alexandra said...

Thanks for the man in the uniform, the MARGARITA that I wish I had right now...and your words.

Sitting here, reading them: I never feel lonely.

Love the good talker you are, hon.

Alexandra said...


Where are my manners?

Thank you, for the shout out, my love.

You always make me feel part of something.


Love you always.

Dawn in D.C. said...

I'm pretty sure cleaning that apartment will earn you "Mother of the Year". You're right, it's amazing what a mama bear will do for her cub.

Have only been to DW one time, but I like Lisa Pie's idea of drinking through Epcot. Meet you there?

Baby Sister said...

Sounds like you're having quite the adventure!! That bathroom sounded nasty...I am so glad you survived so that we could all share in the horror (kind least about the sharing part) :)

Have fun in your favorite place!! ;)

Baby Sister said...

And by kind of I totally meant kind of glad you shared...not kind of glad you survived. Just in case there needed to be clearing up there. :)

Julie said...

Okay, I've spent the better part of the past 11 days unplugged, too - which is why it's taken me so long to get to this post. And now that I have, I am speechless. the respite(that's my kind of drink to cool off with. if you must). the filth of the frat boy (words fail me). the throb of Forever 21 AND Jersey Shore (better than vomit on a toilet, but not much).

I know you're missing your daughter. I wish I could hang with you and steal tampons to make it better.


And on that day? We'll share a bowl of cocktail for respite. Or maybe get our own.


Cap'n Salty said...

I'm gonna pretend I didn't read about the nastiness that was that apartment. Ugh.

The Blue Angels, oh so yummy! When I was in the Navy I actually got to "catch" one of their jets. I was a plane captain (the one that waves their hands at the pilot) and one of them was visiting our squadron so I got to go out and direct him and help him out of his plane, and touch his plane, and shake his hand, and he gave me free things like posters and autographs, and it was awesomesauce!!!

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