Mark the time!

Just a few minutes ago, at 6:41pm, J took Cracker to the mall to supervise J as he gets his hair cut!

J had called me from work earlier and asked if I'd take him to get his hair cut tonight. "I'd really like to stay home tonight. (Alone.) Maybe the Cracker could take you?"

Woo hoo! Just this last weekend, a three day weekend for J, I suggested that he run an errand at Ho Bobo (about 3 miles away) and take the Cracker with him. His response? "I just worked all week." Umm, no, you worked last week, but now it's Monday, and you're still off, and I could use 30 minutes to myself. I know that he works really hard, but after constant computer gaming Friday night through Monday, I didn't think this was the most unreasonable request in the world. But, alas, it didn't happen. Do I sound like a royal biotch? Read my Mother's Day post.

And can I also mention that I have not been showering nearly enough lately (which makes me very cranky) even though it's friggin hot here in the desert? Because the Cracker is still going pee on the potty every 10 minutes and needs help getting up and down. And if I get in the shower I will be interrupted a million times, I'll drip water all over the floor, and he will slip and crack his head open.

And that I try to cool the house with ceiling fans and open windows at night? And even at 10pm it's still 84 degrees IN the house? Because once I really start turning on the AC I will become instantly addicted and not turn it off again until it snows? And J is no help because he could care less how much it costs?

Lordy, when did I become a woman with so many issues?

Back to my alone time: So what am I going to do now that they're actually gone? Organize the Cracker's dresser! Woot! Take out all the stuff he's outgrown along with fleece footed jammies that have been out of season for at least 2 months, and make room for all the stuff that's been living in a laundry basket. I actually tried to start this earlier today, but I had too much help from both the Cracker and a naughty cat, and I can't do it when he's sleeping without waking him.

Do I know how to party or what?

UPDATE: They were gone for 2 hours and 7 minutes. It meant a lot. Thank you!

Okay, now back to the heat, because otherwise this would be a short post, and I don't do short posts. I've got too much ranting and raving in me, because I don't do enough of it in real life. Believe it or not, I try to contain it much as possible and be a great listener. Usually, I suceed. I'll be doing my r&r here instead, because I don't want to be that girl.

I am really proud of myself that I've learned to tolerate heat. I grew up near San Francisco in a funky little town that was always in the fog. Anything bordering 80 was miserable. In fact, my mom just e-mailed me that my dad is insisting they turn on the AC tonight because it climbed all the way up to 74 in their house today. That used to be ME.

But here in the desert we have a dry heat. I have been known to wear black long sleeves and jeans when it's above 90. I am not uncomfortable until it reaches 94-5. BUT send me East to the land of humidity and I will complain. A lot.

Ooh! PSA! Don't ever, ever, try out a new deodorant when it's hot, humid, and you're wearing a form fitting, synthetic dress as Matron of Honor in your cousin's wedding, with relatives all around that you haven't seen in years. Because you will stink so bad that all you can do is tell EVERYONE at the reception that you've never smelled this bad before in your life. And I mean EVERYONE. And they will be creeped out.

Why oh why would I ever do this? Because I read the night before in some really random place (probably People Magazine) that there is a preservative used in most deodorants that may be linked to breast cancer. And even at Whole Foods, I was only able to find one that didn't have it.