Once again I took an unintentional hiatus from blogging. It's just that I've been trying to get back into the whole soccer mom groove and frankly, February soccer tournaments suck bunghole. Last Saturday I spent seven hours outside, freezing my butt off, sportin' the Bono look with a hat, hoodie over the hat, and large sunglasses (it's not a good look for me either. Hot as hell for Bono, not so cute for me) trying to cover every square inch of my face to prevent the hypothermia from setting in. The kid played four games, the spouse was coaching. So I was chillin (pun totally intended) alone on the opposite side of the field until my sister showed up for the last two games. I guess all that matters is Chloe had a good time. The fact that I bravely pust aside my own comfort for the love of my child is something that will go unnoticed....

Sidenote: That last bit was total sarcasm. I am NOT one of those martyred moms who give up their lives just because they gave birth. I'm proud of my daughter and love her more than anything on the whole fucking planet, but that doesn't mean I have to make her my sole, top priority in life. If that makes me sound selfish, so be it. I do the supermom thang, but the rugrat is fully aware that although I'm MOM, I'm also Angie the girl. That means sleepovers get shared. --ie. the kid gets a friend to stay the night Friday and I cater to them. Movies, popcorn, staying up late, video games, candy etc.... THEN Saturday night Mom and Dad get to have their sleepover while the kid goes to Grandma's house without bitching about it. See, I'm teaching my child to compromise while simultaneously paving the way for living room sex with the spouse. It's a win, win situation all the way around.

Wow. I got a little off track. Let's just say that I'm trying to prevent my beautiful, intelligent, soccer star that the only child syndrome is not for her. It's difficult to say the least, but we're working at it.

Hpoe everyone's Valentine's Day was awesome. I got my super hot spouse a Zune and a box of chocolates. The love was there, trust.

I have found a new nemesis and thy name is the pitcher. As in pitcher of beer. I met some friends at a restaurant a few days ago for an impromtu birthday party. Since giving up my smoking habit (131 days ago! Whoot!) I also made the decision to cut back on my beer consumption as well. Not because I'm in danger of becoming an alcoholic, because booze hounds are soooo high school shit. :-) But because beer made me want to smoke. Needless to say, in the months that followed my tolerance went from frat party college boy to jehovah's witness virgin girl. And last Tuesday night proved that to me. Well, actually it was Wednesday morning that did the proving. Tuesday night was just good times man, good times.

We went to Hooters. Yes, the birthday person was male. Now, I don't have any moral indignancy regarding Hooters. If I had 21 year old thighs, was single, and had big tata's, I'd totally cram my little ass in some orange panties and work for tips as well. What I do have a problem with is the food. More specifically paying eighteen dollars for a cheeseburger, fries, and a glass of water. With tip of course. I'm not a miser.

Anywhoo... back to the story: after much, much, MUCH birthday toasting I came to the realization that I was drunk. I noticed this when I placed my pale blue sweater covered boob in the damned hot wings in ended up with a round stain of sauce right where my nipple should be. I didn't MEAN to be drunk. I just didn't notice that when drinking beer communally via pitchers, rather than an individual bottle, a person tends to drink A LOT more than they normally would. You would've thought I would have reached this conclusion back in my wild and free single days. But no, I had to discover this on my own. While trying to crawl out of bed and make myself purty for work.

So, the moral of this story is : if you hook up with friends for booze and wings, stick to the bottle, rather than the tap. It may cost a little more initially, but the investment is well worth it.

I work for an insurance company. I live in the south. Today is the first moment I've had to even THINK of updating since most of my state was struck by really suck-ass storms. And really Really suck-ass tornadoes. Luckily none of my customers were injured or killed. My area only sustained minor wind damage. To those poor people who lost their lives, their family members, their homes, pets, even the photographs of little Johnny's first steps.... I am so sincerely, deeply sorry for what you had to endure and will continue to endure until the grief subsides and your homes are rebuilt.

The area most affected was one that didn't have a lot of money for extra insurance premiums. Please people: go donate to the Salvation Army, Red Cross, whoever.... I know I will.