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He rarely laughs after he belches
On promises made he never welshes
Strong and confident as can be
He still finds time to think of me
Knows I like my ice to the brim
Doesn't see me as less than him

His hands are tender with my son
No voices raised, no plan to run
Gray hair, blue eyes, brown or green
What's important is he can't be mean
Knows I'm not your average chick
Tells it straight, shoots from the hip

When girls walk by, he holds me tighter
He's the match, I'm the lighter
Two peas in a pod and room for three
His favorite words? "our family"
Don't care if he's poor or rollin in dough
He's perfectly fine with taking it slow

After all these excuses I still want a man
Who'll love me the way that I honestly am
So Universe, here is my plea for tonight
Find me the man that is perfectly right
I'll turn all the others away with a glance
I'll outwait each paltry attempt at romance

*courtesy of my friend Ruby *

Because I have nothing better to do, I am up in the wee small hours ignoring the little voice in my head that tells me tomorrow is Monday-- which means this is the one day that lil pill will not be up bright and cheery at 6 am. Even though he is technically unable to drive himself to school and I'm in for an incredibly pissy morning as I wrangle him through various stages of dress and hygiene, plead with the basset to actually do something other than sniff the air, and search my closet in vain for professional clothing that fits me, still I persist in my quest to search every website on the Internets.

What better way to waste time than on my favorite search engine, Google? I am a google fan. I have a gmail account. I use google maps without even checking mapquest, so there Yahoo. I'm pretty sure Google knows the actual date of the apocalypse, who will be elected President, and whether I will ever make a living that doesn't involve pretending I know how to add. I digress.

Let's check out what Google has to say for Rachel wants:

Rachel wants a ride that'll make heads turn.
not so much anymore. I'd rather have a ride that gets good gas mileage. Thank you Myo!
Rachel wants you to see her balls.
Ugh. I don't want you to see ANY balls. I don't want either of us to have to see any balls ever again! And for the record, I do not have any balls of any kind.
Rachel wants to know.
I am on an endless quest to know everything about everything. True.
Rachel wants a cracker.
I'm more a sweets kind of girl, actually.

Rachel needs:

Rachel needs to have blush that is very bright and colorful.
No, I blush naturally. I know that is a foreign concept to most people.
Rachel Needs Some Good Thoughts.
Particularly when I wonder why I haven't saved the world yet.
Rachel needs more caffeine.
Always! See? Google just knows.
Rachel needs guidance and normal supervision.
Hey! I resent that!

Rachel eats:

Rachel eats hot, whole grain cereal for breakfast 3-4 times per week.
Ew. That sounds disgusting even without the puking that would ensue were I to do such a thing.
Rachel eats Cheerios off our living room floor.
It's my word against yours!
Rachel eats babies.
Never! Oh my goodness. Are babies really eat-able?
Rachel Eats Wasabi Chunk.
After that choking incident at Ise in CA I learned my lesson about the 'green stuff'. I'm not stoopid.

Last but not least, let's try Rachel says:

Rachel Says No to Nudity
Depends on who and where. I'm a bad, bad girl.
Rachel says hi.
Well, HI!
Rachel says they go to work, eat dinner, watch TV and go to sleep just like other couples.
Now this is just freaky. It's like they interviewed me secretly a couple of years ago when I was covering up that we were nothing like other couples. Hmm. Google=alien probes?
Rachel says ye're all screwing with my head.
Un, yah! I'm a Pisces. Everyone screws with me. It is my karmic debt to the world. But maybe y'all can lay off a bit now, hear?

Happy, Happy Monday.

Every day starts the same way (I'll spare the gory details of what happens after they wake):

If I'm reeeally lucky, there's a package I haven't opened from the day before, such as the one this morning from Snake & Butterfly organic chocolate...

And if God is so pleased with me that lil pill actually likes what I picked out for him to wear, I get to see a lil ham...

Who's probably going to end up on Broadway someday.

And then I get to have lunch with a nice coworker, who then takes my picture for Fat to Fab Friday:

And enjoy another 3 pounds gone--46 in total; 37 pounds lighter, blonder, and ever so much wiser than I was this time two years ago.

I'm running out of pictures to compare with as Mr. A preferred to remember the moment instead of using the camera. Curiously, I have loads of pictures with him and lil pill, but not too many of me. Guess he liked to remember my moments more than his.

Happy weekend everyone!

I entered a contest that is giving away these: aren't they just too cute?  Lil pill has great taste, actually.  I'm sure he'll make me very proud as a world famous interior designer someday. 

Anyway, he came home with a huge hole in one shoe and the lining ripped out of the other one.  Mr. A always seems to have extra money for things such as this, but I do not.  Not to mention I'm the world's worst at winning contests.  Among my more notable: that time back in the 90s that Pepsi was having a promotion--1 in 3 caps win a free drink? I drank at least 20 Mt. Dews without getting one winner.  I can scratch off a whole ticket without getting even $2 back.  I faithfully enter the PW's many contests, although I suspect she gets tired of reading at about comment 200 and just chooses someone at random.  Shoot, I can't even get free chocolate when they are giving it away!  Somehow someone always loses my email/number/information.  AND, I just realized that site I linked to is overseas somewhere, so --not that I had a chance anyway -- I didn't make the contest deadline.

Picture Eeyore walking under a little black raincloud.  That is me.  Aren't you jealous?  I am soooo popular and lucky.  The joys of being a Pisces. And, I'm a real upbeat gal to boot, aren't I?  Not that anyone's reading this.....

But anyway, they sure are precious little shoes, aren't they?  I'm not sure if or when I need to start teaching lil pill to tie his shoes.  Seems like everything has velcro now, but I remember when you couldn't graduate kindergarten without learning how to tie on that little fake shoe thing they had.  Remember that?  It looked like this, only not as cute.

Sort of like with subtraction in 1st grade, my big brother (there was always one around somewhere, I had 7 of them) decided to cheat and do it for me.  I think I was about 8 before I could really make an honest to goodness bow in a shoelace.  And I still have to think really hard about 14 minus 5.