Seriously?

Today is my father's birthday and I called him to wish him a happy one. (Yes, Mandy, you beat me to it).

About three minutes in to the conversation, he told me to hold on. He had another call. While I was holding and subsequently cut off, I told Robin, "Oh my God. My father is doing it too".

At least twice a week, my mother does the same thing to me.

So my father called me back and we finished our conversation. Meanwhile, my mom had called with a Facebook question. Another at least twice a week occurrence. I started to tell her how my dad put me on hold, and just as I started to do so...you guessed it. "Kim? I gotta interrupt you. I need to take this other call".

I thought it was a pretty funny joke, but she wasn't kidding! Then when she hung up with the other person, she almost peed herself laughing. Me? Not so much.

maybealittle

Card from Robin's mother ~ I love it!

Kimi Oakley

We have a psycho in the hood and it's not Robin.

We think we had a peeping tom last week and we think we know who it is. Yesterday and Friday, two other incidents happened. With Robin having 47 lawsuits going at any given time against the Biscayne Park (where we live in Miami) Police Department, we decided we may be better off not calling them. (No worries - the City of North Miami Beach is right up the street and now their number is programmed in to my phone).

Today we went to the shooting range. Robin's been before and is scarily good. For a fist timer, I didn't do too badly myself. I even got a hole in one! I mean a bullseye. For those who have never shot before, it's not as easy as it looks.

Robin went on and on about how well I did. It may be true because right after, she insisted on taking me to one of my favorites places for lunch that she hates. Then she insisted we go to Target. Then she wanted to wait while I tanned. Then she asked if I need anything from the liquor store.

I think she's totally kissing up. She's gonna start living in fear. I think I'll get a holster and start walking bowlegged as a constant reminder that she needs to watch it.

Too bads the dogs didn't see me.

Florida Santas!

You really need to click on the picture to get the full effect.

Check out the Santa in the speedo...must be gay Santa.

I like the lower left corner. I could say I did that on purpose to be artsy, but I won't cuz I didn't.

Happy Hanukkah!!!!

This is a picture of traditional Hanukkah food. I have no idea what it is, but I'm sure it's good. Unless it's gefilta fish. Or liver.

Sent Robin an email asking her what we're doing for Hanukkah dinner.

Jerk. Not as in "Robin is a jerk", but jerk as in Jamaican food.

We're gonna have friggen curried chicken and peas (really means beans)and rice for Hanukkah??!

Oh! Just as I was writing this, she called! Has a headache and doesn't feel like going to get jerk, can we order out?

Hell to the yeah!!

My favorite deli is "Mo's" in North Miami Beach and they deliver!! (May not be open tonight now that I think about it). Sure hope they are, cuz now I'm jonesing for a BLT. (To those of you who aren't famaliar with the Jewish culture, that was a joke because Jewish people don't eat bacon).

Glad to be at work today.

Ever since we bought the house in June of 2006, we've known that we wanted to put an awning over the back of the house. It's where our office is, is mostly glass, and it faces west. The hot Florida sun makes that room very warm (damn hot) in the afternoon.

About a month ago, we got a couple of estimates for the awning. The first estimate came from a guy with a lazy eye and a very thick accent. I guess it was Italian. It definately wasn't Spanish and I don't think it was French. He was tall, dark and handsome - minus the lazy eye. He came across as a little bit cheesy. We didn't go with him. Mostly because I had no idea what he said.

Someone else came by and must have been totally forgettable because I totally forgot about him.

Then came "Tropical". "Tropical Awnings"!! We discussed things and signed them up. Gave them half the money up front. Then we didn't hear from them for a while. Then it was Thanksgiving. They showed up yesterday at 3:00 p.m. Did the metal part, frame, I think is what it's called. Supposed to be back at 8:00 this morning. As of right now, 2:00, they haven't gotten there. Robin says she's been calling all day. No answer/no machine.

Just got an email from her. She doesn't have much of a temper. She's kinda scrappy, but when push comes to shove, not so much (except for in her work. She'll read this at some point, and I need to back peddle slightly). Her email said something about becoming effing pissed off and something about going postal.

So, yeah, I'm happy to be here right now and not there.

Dog are so smart...

I'm pretty sure we have a peeping tom (more about that another time).

Robin just left for a couple of hours and the dogs are plopped in front of the door. They never configure themselves like this and I swear I think they think they're protecting me!!

Dear Santa ~~

This is Baxter Hellman Frasier. If I PROMISE to never chew up another dog bed, will you PLEASE bring me a new bed just for myself? Bodi and Brady play tug of war with them, and Buddy always hogs my time. Buddy also chews on them when my mommies come through the door. I don't blame him though; he gets that from Bailey. Oh, and Maxx likes to pee on them.

I really feel that I am the best behaved dog in the house. The fact that Mommy Robin tripped over me and broke her foot was not my fault. Santa, if you're watching this house, you know how clumsy she is.

Speaking of watching this house, you know how good Mommy Kim has been this year. (She gave me a bone to tell you that. We both know the truth).

Love always (especially this time of year),
BHF

AND!!!! We're up to TEN.

According to the urban dictionary,

HORNDOG - not to be confused with corndog, a horndog is someone who desperately would like you in his/her pants. (yes, us girls can be horndogs too) horndogs tend to forget their natural surroundings because they are so horny they'll do anything to get inside you. The horndog is a mighty creature that will stop at nothing to "f" you, i gues is really what i'm really tryig to say. Now go out there and find yourself some condoms you naughty children !
girl - "ooo...someone took his viagra today."
guy - "just call me a horndog !" =D


As the Tiger Woods story continues to evolve and escalate, more and more and more (and more) women who aren't named Mrs. Woods have come into the fray claiming they've had affairs with the golf great. Last week there were three. But now, at least four (and maybe more) women have been thrown into the mix, some by their own admission and others by tabloid sources. It can be quite confusing -- so many mistresses, so little time -- so PopEater took the time to break down each alleged Tiger poacher and the stories swirling around them.
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A nice visual

I just made a pot of chili. I always cry when cutting onions and today was not an exception. I cut up a little orange pepper from Robin's (ahem) garden and I literally could smell the heat when I cut it open.

Backing up. I went through a pottery painting phase about ten years ago. The only thing I have left is a dog bowl for Buddy. It has broken in three pieces several times and I always glue it back together. I'm superstitious about it ~ as long as I can save the bowl, I'll have my Buddy. So it fell apart again last night and I had it on the counter to use my hot glue gun on it. After decorating that wreath, I now know that that kind of glue is practically indestructable. Robin didn't realize my plan and used Gorilla Glue on it. She must have used the entire bottle because it was all over the counter and it didn't hold the bowl together. I tried to wash it off the bowl and in the process, I got it all over my hands. I washed and washed and it wouldn't come off. So my hands were sticky to say the least.

Back to story. Once everything was chopped and opened and cooked for the chili, I tossed it all in the crockpot. This "should" prevent Brady from helping himself. I came to my computer to check Facebook (of course - God forbid I miss something), and I was still crying from the onions. Absent mindedly, I rubbed my eyes with my hands that were still covered in Gorilla Glue AND very hot pepper juice. Then I had to go to the bathroom. I couldn't even open my eyes, they were stinging so badly. I felt like my eyebrows were on fire. My entire face was burning and stinging, plus I was still crying. What a friggen mess! I felt like a train wreck. I had no option but to call for Robin. There I was seated on the toilet, crying like a little bitch, with flames practically flying out of my face.

Somehow when your entire face is on fire, sticky hands don't seem so annoying.

(This whole thing happened over two hours ago and my face is still stinging.)

Christmas Decorated Cheaply!

Everything in these pictures was bought at a flea market or garage sale. I made the wreath out of broken or bruised discarded (almost, until I saved them) ornaments.

But my favorite part, and it was totally free, is the square "frame" around the wreath. It is dust from a picture that normally hangs there. I took my Oreck XL to it, but it seems like I may need the Magic Eraser for this one. I actually like it, though. I think it adds a subtle, yet sophisticated, touch.

Ho ho ho.

I am so lucky.

On our way to class yesterday, I noticed Robin's jeans were filthy. I said something to her about it and she was like, "Yeah. I got them out of the hamper. I didn't notice. Looks like mustard". It was more like mustard, dog paw prints, cigarette ashes and a few leaves.

Robin has 147 pairs of jeans. Unlike me, all her clothes fit her at all times. So she has 147 pairs of jeans to choose from on any given day. Why she dragged these out of the hamper, I really don't know.

We were sitting in class and I saw something out of the corner of my eye around Robin's ankle. My eyesight is rapidly declining and I am learning that I really can't see like I could even two months ago. I'm wearing drug store glasses for now, but one of these days, I'm gonna go to the eye doctor. Right after my mammogram.

So I pushed my $19.95 glasses from the end of my nose back to eyes and bent down for a closer look.

Oh HELL no.

I couldn't believe it. Even for her, this was too much.

Apparently, when she put on her filthy jeans, she didn't have HER glasses on and failed to notice that they came with a freebie...a nice pair of dirty underwear. So around her ankle like a new fashion statement was a pair of navy blue with pink polka dots underwear that had 'Sunday' written on them.

I brought it to her attention and she nonchallantly pulled them off and tossed them in her purse. No big deal. Like it was a pack of gum. She didn't even close her purse.

I know it's natural to second guess one's self about the choices one makes every now and then. Define now and then. I seem to do it a lot.

I have a new favorite Jewish food.

Knish** (see below)

I cannot believe Robin has not told me about these before.

I don't have a picture of my knish, probably because I inhaled it too quickly, but I did want to share with you a picture of the restaurant where I met my first knish. Notice all the walkers. I guess you can tell the quality of a good deli by the number of old people who frequent it. By the number of these walkers (more on other wall), this place should be Zagat rated.

While I had my phone/camera out, I thought I'd take a picture of my pumpernickle bagel. The way I cropped it, it looks a little (a lot actually) like Baxter's back side.

It dawned on me while we were eavesdrooping, I mean eating, why I love deli's so much. When I'm in a good one, I feel like I'm in NYC.

I love to listen in on peoples' conversations. I heard one old man say to another old man, "I don'TT know VATT is going on with my kiDDSS. They tell me, "Daddy. You neeDD to geTT a passporTTT". VATT the hell I need passporTT for?

Then there were two old ladies chatting about the price of chicken. Pennsylvannia Dutch evidently has the best price in Hollywood.

I didn't like the waitress very much at first. She won me over in the end, though, when we were paying and she came up to me to tell me what a beautiful purse I was carrying.

** A knish (pronounced /kˈnɪʃ/ — the "k" is pronounced) is a German, Eastern European, and Yiddish snack food made popular in North America by Jewish immigrants, eaten widely by Jewish and non-Jewish peoples alike. A knish consists of a filling covered with dough that is either baked, grilled, or deep fried. Knishes can be purchased from street vendors in urban areas with a large Jewish population, sometimes at a hot dog stand.

In the most traditional versions, the filling is made entirely of mashed potato, ground meat, sauerkraut, onions, kasha (buckwheat groats) or cheese. More modern varieties of fillings feature sweet potatoes, black beans, fruit, broccoli, tofu or spinach.

Many cultures have variations on baked, grilled, or fried dough-covered snacks similar to the knish: the Cornish pasty, the Scottish Bridie, the Jamaican patty, the Spanish and Latin American empanada, the Portuguese rissole, the Italian calzone, the South Asian samosa, the Russian pirozhki, and the Middle Eastern fatayer.

Knishes may be round, rectangular or square. They may be entirely covered in dough or some of the filling may peek out of the top. Sizes range from those that can be eaten in a single bite hors d'oeuvre to sandwich-sized.

I refuse to eat another turkey sandwich, but...

We attended a nine hour class today for a CAM license. Gonna be licensed to be a Community Association Manager!!! (Hold the applause, please). Doing it all again tomorrow!!!!

Now when Ida Weidenheiden calls to complain that she "lost one dollahh in the dryahh", I'll officially be licensed to say, "We will get that dollahh back to you as quickly as possible, Mrs. Weidenwhateva".

Class wasn't as bad as I thought it was gonna be though. Made friends with a very nice lady with a long story of plastic surgery gone too far. Perfect body/messed up face. She's a big time animal lover, so I like her very much.

Got home with deli food, set it on the counter, and while I was changing, Brady ate my sub.