MrZ and I like to go out to eat. We don’t do it as much as we would like to, but when we do it, we like it. (Hmmm…that last sentence taken out and placed on it’s own somewhere has an entirely different meaning. But also true, for the record.) We have very strong opinions about tipping and use the 15% guideline as a base to build from. We treat our servers very well no matter where we go. We have both worked in public-service jobs and know first-hand how much they suck. However, there are definitely some things a server will do that just bug the crap out of me. I’ll still tip the normal amount, but I’ll probably bitch about it on the ride home. The Ace & TJ show were discussing this topic this morning, so I thought I’d bring it up here. (Remember? I’m just a lemming.)

For example - I hate it if they sit at the booth with us while they take our order. This is very common at chain places or at places that serve hot wings in buckets. (Mmmm…food served in a bucket is always better…especially if it’s layers with french fries.) I’m not sure why this bothers me so much, but I almost feel like they’re patronizing me. Like they think they’re being all casual and cool so they’ll get a better tip, but in reality it just bothers me. Or maybe it’s because when it has happened it has been a cute girl with big boobs sitting next to MrZ.

It also bothers me at restaurants (Usually the higher class places, which we don’t go too often because we would have to shower.) where the servers don’t write down your order. I’m always needing to have something special done to my food, it seems, and I feel like they’re going to forget if they don’t write it down. I know it’s supposed to be a sign that they are good at their job, but I can’t help but think about the fact that I would not remember what I said and it was MY DAMN ORDER. How are they supposed to remember? And when there’s more than two people in our party? I just write it down for them. As a precaution.

Finally - I always am a little sad when the server brings the ticket without asking if I want dessert. The defensive side of me assumes they don’t ask because they think I don’t need it. But then, if I want it, I feel dumb saying, “Um…yeah…I see you brought me my ticket. But, um, I kinda wanted one of those giant strawberry sundaes on your menu. And a brownie. Thanks.”

GRRR. I was taking LilZ to school this morning and I had a great blog entry idea that I remember thinking, “Damn. Why haven’t I thought about this before?” I was so damn proud of myself becomes sometimes I worry that this blog gets kinda stale and repetitive. I mean, I know you love all of the “I didn’t shower today, I stink!” entries, but I do like to provide a little bit of new content once in awhile.

So, I was just thinking, “I’ll publish that right before lunch.” And then, I thought, “Wait. What was that about again?”

SERIOUSLY. I mean - I know I thought about this entry for several minutes this morning - and now, nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.

I did that last week, I called LilZ from work and it went something like this:

Me: Hey! Guess what? I’ve been waiting for you to get home to tell you this…
Him: What?
Me: I don’t know. Shit. I mean, uh, Poop. I forgot.
Him: Well. Thanks for calling.

This is why I need one of those notepads attached to my dashboard. I probably need something also attached to my purse. I won’t go through the effort to dig through the purse for a paper or pen, but if it were attached to the strap, maybe I would write it down. Or maybe I should just start writing crap on my hands like my son does. Or maybe I should just quit drinking margaritas for breakfast.

I love art. I love creativity in any form, but I especially love the idea of using some sort of medium: pen, paint, pencil - and replicating something you see in your mind. Or in front of you, for that matter. I find that skill fascinating. I can’t do it in the slightest. It’s almost sad how little skill I possess with any sort of pen or brush. Some might even have removed that “almost” from the previous sentence entirely.

I remember growing up - I always idolized the kids in class who were called upon for special tasks thanks to their art talents. Like Becky at daycare who was asked to draw the people on the Welcome! banner at Parent Night. Her people weren’t realistic - but they were her own cartoon style of people - and totally awesome. I kept a picture she had drawn from me forever, constantly trying to replicate her style and failing miserably every time. Her people had pointy noses, and they looked so cool. Mine just looked like scary bird/human hybrids that still haunt my dreams periodically. They chase me with fountain pens and charcoals.

There was Sean in high school who, although not really a school spirit type of guy, always helped out with all of the Spirit Week contests because he had the mad art skills that helped us win every year. His skills were so amazing that I often wished I could ask him for the pages of notes he doodled on in class. But, you know, that’s kinda creepy.

Then there is my husband and his brother. MrZ has never pursued any sort of art as a hobby, but when we would sit around and draw with LilZ - he would always make these fantastic alien creatures while I’m still drawing that same goofy whale cartoon I always drew in elementary school. His brother pursued his talents a little more as a hobby and I’ve always been amazed by the things I’ve seen him create. He was just fiddling with a gum eraser one time, while watching TV, and the next thing you know he essentially sculpted it into this weird troll-like face with this incredible detail.

I kinda hate them all.

I always imagined growing up, and even as an adult, that if I had those type of skills, I would cover my home with my own art. I would cover my body with my personally designed tattoos. I would give art as gifts to every family member for every holiday and they would be amazed and consider themselves blessed. Seriously. I spend way too much time thinking about this.

Up until recently, I had spent almost 7 years involved in map-making somehow. Either by data analysis, or actual cartography. My maps were always technically sound and highly functional. Sometimes they even looked kinda nice, aesthetically. But MrZ? His maps were always works of damn art. And it would piss me off. We would have the same assignment in the same class in college and the would produce this amazing product that everyone would freak out about while mine, although functional, just kinda sat unrecognized in the corner.

My point? I want to do everything I can to help my kids foster any creative talent they have so that I can make them do all of the things I wanted to do with my non-existent talent. Isn’t that what parenting is about? I already have one hallway in our home covered in framed pieces of art from LilZ. And now? I sit NikkiZ down to color as many times a week as humanly possible. She loves it - just like her brother did. He also loved finger painting, which I think we’re going to try this weekend with his sister. OUTSIDE, of course. I sent LilZ to art workshops every summer where they spent the day doing different creative activities: creative writing, art, drama, etc. He loved it all, still does but it’s all a bit “young” for him now.

Either way - I want to help them find some sort of creative outlet. Since the painting/drawing type skills were lacking for me, I’ve ended up using the computer to aid in my creative release. If they choose the same medium, I’ll foster that in whatever way I can. Hell, I’ll probably put them to work for me someday and we’ll take over the blogworld, one boring template at a time!

In reality? I’m simply in desperate need for someone to help me design an edit for one of my tattoos that I can almost visualize but could never put down on paper. And I don’t think anything screams “CLASSY” more than being able to say, “My kid designed that,” when someone compliments a tattoo.

Well - I changed the decor around here - way earlier than I intended because I screwed up something on my old theme. Yay, me! Please don’t tell me you don’t like it or that you like the other one better. It makes me sad.

Speaking of being sad. Do you know how stressed out I am that I didn’t get to watch 24 last night? VERY SAD. Please don’t tell me what happened. I went to the gym hoping to watch it while I ran, but there were no TVs set to FOX. NONE. What is wrong with those people? There are, like 12 TVs, and four of them were on FOX News. Which is close…BUT ENTIRELY WRONG.

And do we really need four TVs on FOX News? Hell - I’m fine with zero - but, to each his own.

Speaking of the gym (look at me rocking the transitions…) I had to wait for a treadmill again last night. When I finished running? There was a line waiting to use them. What is up with that? I thought people were supposed to fail at keeping their resolutions by now. Hell - I’ve broken at least half of mine already - what is wrong with these people? Bah.

And one more random thing: Did you know that Cap’n Crunch is not peanut butter flavored? I just assumed all Cap’n Crunch was peanut butter flavored. I bought a box and brought it home and mixed it with Cocoa Puffs (MrZ: Those were NOT Cocoa Puffs you stupid woman who knows NOTHING about sugary cereals) thinking it would be a yummy Reese’s type combination. And the whole time I was thinking, “Hmmm…I don’t really taste the peanut butter.” Turns out - that’s because I bought the original Cap’n Crunch, which does not taste like peanut butter. I am totally deficient on a glossary of sugary cereals.

Sorry for the lack of updating yesterday, I wanted to keep that entry up top until LilZ read it. Since he was at his Dad’s on Sunday and we went straight from there to in-law’s, he didn’t get a chance to read it until yesterday afternoon. At which time he sincerely thanked me and told me how sweet it was. I love that kid. Do you know who else I love? My mom. Today is her birthday - you should go wish her a Happy one because she has had quite a stressful week.

Now to the issue at hand: My adorably angelic daughter has now become the class bully. I am blaming this on her Dad because I know he’ll blame most of her other negative qualities on me as she gets older. So this one? I’m blaming on him. She has started tormenting the kids in her class just for kicks. SERIOUSLY. My daughter is that kid. Behind that cute smile and adorable pigtail lies and evil little girl who steals other kids pacifiers and loveys.

Only she doesnt just steal them. Nope. She has to then go and taunt them with it. She stole one girl’s lovey and held it out in front of her like, “Loooookie what IIIII have…Neener Neener Neener.” And then, yesterday, whe she took a kid’s pacifier? She put it in her mouth and between her teeth. She then smiled that cute evil smile as if to say, “Yeah - I’d like to see you get it now, kid. I have MOLARS. You are no match for this jaw.”

So, yeah. I think we’re officially in the terrible twos. Yes - she is only 15 months old - which only means it’s going to be a long year.