Recent Posts


Barefoot in Barcelona

Barefoot in is the name f my nailpolish but it is also what I am doing right now. Christmas in Espana with (most of) the family!

(Will someone please tell me if my cousin throws a huge party while he's house sitting? I don't trust the cat to be a reliable informant. She's too easily bribed.)



Today you are 2 years old. How is that even possible? I remember the phone ringing late at night, and how I started crying when I heard squawking in the background. You sounded so tiny and I had waited so long to hear your voice.

Now, you say, "I wuv you, Aun'ie!" You tells me you miss me, that cows say "moooo," and you always shout the word yellow when you finds something that color.

Your Grandpa used to tell me this every night before bed (still does sometimes)and so I'll say it to you: I love to the moon and back. Happy Birthday, Love-bug!
Auntie Oohoo


Oh my darling, Clementine

"Hey, it's so good to see you! That pasta dish you brought tonight was so delicious."

"Thanks," he said, going in for a hug, "it's good to see you t----hey, are you wearing perfume?"

"Oh, uh," I scrambled to remember if I had spritzed any on before running out the door, "Yes," (I'm fairly certain that) "I am."

"What IS it? It smells SO delicious!"


"Wow, seriously, delicious. Kind of citrusy but still..."

"Really? Because it's actually their rose version so I'm not sure...wait," I looked down at my hands. "Citrus? You do realize I'm peeling a clementine."

"Oh. Nevermind."



Be careful what you type...

Remember that time I was trying to find a shoe website and just typed in what I THOUGHT was the right URL but accidentally ended up on an, ahem, adult toy website?

At work?


It's only a matter of time before the Internet Police show up and send me home from school.

Almost as awkward as the time my brother's boss dialed the wrong number for a conference call and an, ahem, adult phone chatting service picked up instead.

On speakerphone.

Almost, but not quite.


Possessed, I tell ya

My water meter was possessed. Possessed, I tell ya! Possessed.

Earlier this week I had an appointment for some tech to come replace my old one because, well, I'm not really sure why. Mostly because The City told me I had to and when The City tells you to do something, you do it. Otherwise The Wizard will show up and take away your courage, make you wear pigtails and sic flying monkeys on you. Pretty sure that's how it works.

This meant I had to find the water meter in my basement. Somehow I missed the day of Homeownership 101 where they taught about water meters.* {I also missed the lesson on  how to figure out which smoke alarm is beeping but that's a whole different problem.}

I found a meterish looking thing, pointed the tech in that direction and crossed my fingers. All went well until 2:00am that night when I woke up for a glass of water and discovered that the new meter was possessed. Every time I ran the water it made a painful chugging, screeching noise that could be heard everywhere in the house. I tried to find a more logical explanation of what was wrong with it but since I was too freaked out to actually go down there it was kind of hard to tell from the top of the stairs...

15 calls to the wrong departments at The City later, I found a nice man who didn't laugh at me when I told him what was wrong {probably because I left out the fact there was a demonic spirit residing in the meter and just mentioned the noises...} and today I got a brand new one installed. One that makes no noises. One that is NOT possessed.

The tech claims the possessed one actually had a loose casing which commonly causes it to "make a racket" but we know the truth, don't we?

*If you missed Homeownership 101, too, and are wondering what the water meter in your basement looks like, this will help. You are welcome.


A Thanksgiving Story

Thanksgiving is a time for family, quality time and puking toddlers.

At least ours was.

Sister, Joe the Brother-in-law, and Dean the Nugget were in town and my brother invited all of us to do lunch with him at his fancy corporate office. Our tour, the food, his coworkers...everything was great until Dean started coughing on our way out.

Then, it happened. In a big lobby by the elevators and two glassed in conference rooms, the little guy puked. Sister caught all of it in her hands without letting a single drop hit that generic patterned carpet. {Mother of the Year, people. For real.} Joe threw his jacket down on the ground just in case there was more on it's way, Paul ran-walked to find a trash can, and Katie told me, "Wipes! Get the wipes out of my purse! NOW!"

Poor little Dean just stood there, shaking his head and saying over and over again, "Ooooh no! Oh no! Ooh nooooo!"

As soon as the situation was contained, he changed his chant to, "Shirt. Off! Shirt. OFF! SHIRT OFF!!!" Apparently the kid doesn't enjoy smelling like frow-ups. Noted. Joe scooped him up and started mumbling something about the nearest exit while Paul repeatedly hit the elevator button.

There's no limit to how much I'd pay to see those 3 minutes of security camera footage.

Creative Commons License
Sidenote by Sidenote Cal is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at