On Building a House and Becoming a Dude

Wow!  6 months since my last post?  Where has the time gone?  My life has been busy (much like just about everyone else in this world, I suspect), so let me update you.  Remember the house skeleton I bought?  Almost finished!  Read about it here if you have no idea what I'm talking about.  Now look at it!

This is my closet!  Holy walk-in, right?!

If anyone ever tells you that building a house is not that hard, you should probably just punch them in the throat.  It has been a daunting amount of work. 

In other news, I've been running my marketing legs off on my company, and running my other legs off chasing my 3 children.  We're basically down to stumps now, y'all.  

All this building and selling and running makes for a very worn out Thinkerbell.  I have grays springing up like ragweed and bags under my eyes that Michael Kors would envy.  My cortisol levels are probably that of an extremely stressed out, pre-menopausal elephant (hence the stubborn extra I have around the middle).  So I did some research, and came across an unlikely solution - testosterone.  According to an article I read from Huffington Post, some of the benefits of increasing testosterone in women include:

"

• Relieving symptoms of menopause, like hot flashes, vaginal dryness, incontinence and urinary urgency.
• Enhancing mental clarity and focus. Researchers at Utrecht University in Holland recently found that testosterone appears to encourage "rational decision-making, social scrutiny and cleverness."
• Reducing anxiety, balancing mood and relieving depression combined with fatigue. Dr. Stephen Center, a family practitioner in San Diego who has treated women with testosterone for 20 years, says the regimen consistently delivers "improvement in self-confidence, initiative and drive."
• Increasing bone density, decreasing body fat and cellulite, and increasing lean muscle mass. "Testosterone is the best remedy available for eliminating midlife upper-arm batwings," says Dr. George Yu, a urologic surgeon and aging specialist at Aegis Medical and Research Associates in Annapolis, Md.
• Offering protection against cardiovascular events, by increasing blood flow and dilating blood vessels, and against Type 2 diabetes, by decreasing insulin resistance.  "

Medical science is busy busting up the myths that I will slowly morph into a dude, so I'm trying it.  The well-intended of you that will probably give me a bunch of advice about talking to my doctor, trying other approaches first, blah, blah, blah - Thanks, but no thanks.  Let's do this old school - try it and see what happens.  This morning, I took dose 2 of an over-the-counter testosterone booster "ideal for active men".  I'll keep you posted on the results.  Right now, let the record show (for better or worse) that as of today, I am 37 years old, 125.8 pounds and still a girl for now.  I have what would probably be considered an average sex drive, I feel moderately fatigued, often stressed and sometimes depressed.  Follow along, and we'll see if anything changes.

Opinions and Catharsis - Intellectual Vomit All Over Your Comfiest Shirt

Here I find myself on the soapbox again.  Dammit all to hell, I hate heights.  Here are my list of complaints and my excellent opinions to back them up.

1.  Retiree Roadblock:  This one is certain to seal my fate as a bad young driver and a worse geriatric driver.  Fuck you, Karma.  Imma go all Grand Theft Auto.  (Not really.  I'm sorry, Karma. I totally didn't mean it.)  I can't stand driving amongst a population that is well into its golden years.  (I'm bound to make enemies on this one.)  If you drive 5-10 miles under the speed limit, STAY RIGHT, for the love of Pete, Jesus and all that is.  We don't want to go around your old ass when we're late leaving Point A and pissed about how long it will take us to reach Point B.  If you drive more than ten miles under, stay home!  I will run your errands for you.  It would be faster than being stuck behind you.

2.  The method of execution for those convicted and sentenced to death:  It has been a recent topic of hot debate.  Obviously, this topic has more gravity than the previous one.  I have been reading about recent protests regarding the method of execution for convicted murderers who have been sentenced to die.  Ok, I don't relish the thought of my own death.  I have too much to do, so I suppose I'll never die.  I doubt many of us do (if you do, please get help), but I've also not ever killed anyone.  I've wondered many times why convicted murderers, those deemed beyond morality by a "juror of their peers" is allowed to continue living and even to expect a humane death when they have inflicted such pain on another.  I imagine in a certain trailer a number of years ago, a certain young victim would have prayed for the mercy of a botched lethal injection.  Yet, these "people" who show such a disregard for life and humanity, have had their day in the sun declaring that lethal injection is inhumane.  Maybe we should just beat them to death with hammers instead?  After all, they've squawked, nay SCREAMED, about their rights.  As far as I am concerned,  unless you killed someone in self defense, your rights as a human being end the minute you confiscate the life of another.  You are both murdered in that instant.

3.  Minimum Wage Increase:  For details, see my earlier entry  http://whatelainasays.blogspot.com/2014/02/minimum-wage-increases-will-eat-your.html
Wtf, y'all?  It's only gonna help until the rest of your 99 cent menu rolls into $1.49, and your $1.49 stuff now costs $1.99.

4.  The fact that I've become a Republican capitalist:  FML, how did this happen?  In an instant, I go from almost socialist do downright deplorable.  Big government with lots of well intended, yet shockingly easy to abuse assistance programs, is much of the problem in my opinion of admittedly   This is the last I have to say on the subject, actually, unless you ask me true, Capt. Jack Elliot.

5.  There are no jobs:  This one ties into #4 and #5.  Jobs, apparently, have become the stuff of legend.  Like unicorns, they are only a pretty imagining.  The fact is that I've employed several people in the last few years.  Granted, I haven't employed as many as Wal-Mart (thank our lucky stars every day that I'm not Wal-Mart), but I have employed some.  There are jobs out there, y'all, and it's been my observation that people don't actually want jobs, though.  How silly.  They want checks.  Obviously, I don't speak for you all.  If you're offended right now, you're either hella guilty of being a lazy ass or you're truly down on your luck.  If you're the former, this opinion is aimed straight at you, asshole.  Be fucking employable.  Don't sit at home and wonder how your drug habit or your "Murderer" neck tattoo screwed you over.  Put on a turtleneck.  Get clean.  Go fill out applications, quit interviewing like a dumbass (and worse, not even showing up for interviews), and life is bound to turn around.

You sure are, honey.  And you're speshul too.

That concludes our episode of "I'm Desiring to Piss Everyone Off on a Global Scale".  Next up, "Parenting Against the Masses"

Spongebob? Eye Candy? Where Are We Going With This?

I was looking over my blog today and realized I've only made one entry this year.  One is the lonliest number, you know.  This is testament to the fact that I've been beyond busy, so allow me to catch you up.

First order of business, I've been having dreams about diving with sharks, singing karaoke and being stuck in a cave.  The word that leaps to mind is "anxiety" but I don't want to run to a doctor because I don't want some diagnosis that will follow me until the end of time.  I have three kids, a husband, a functioning business, and at least two budding baby businesses I'm trying to manage.  What stress?  Remember the good old days when everything could be cured by rest and Flintstone's vitamins?  I'm trying that early 70's "When licking lead paint doesn't kill you, it makes you stronger / Seatbelts, what seatbelts?" approach.  So basically, I bought a bottle of wine and some Spongbob gummy vitamins.  Wish me luck, y'all.

Secondly, R.I.P. my trusty little iPhone 4.  I suddenly feel like I am missing my thumbs.  Calendar - gone.  Phone book - peace out.  Deposit checks or run credit cards?  Nope.  Alarm clock?  Good luck waking up, chump.  No camera, no on-the-go travel reservations.  Instagram, nooooo.....  I went diving over the weekend, and iGills (nifty [not] little apparatus that turns your iPhone into a dive computer) happened to it.  It wouldn't come out of iGills mode, and then suddenly the entire screen stopped working.  Time for a new phone.  And dive camera.

On the bright side, my dive was amazing (no huge waves or grabbing onto diveboat staff's "handholds" when trying to get back on the boat).  Click here and here for those stories if you need catching up.  We dove out of Pompano Beach off of the Safari Diver.  For those of you that dive, I TOTALLY recommend this boat.  I've been on the Black Pearl every dive since I've been certified, but Safari takes smaller groups, and is way easier to board after a dive (especially when you are a total idiot on the surface and can't remove your fins).  It goes out of South Florida Diving Headquarters - just like the Black Pearl - but seems to have a more laid back vibe.  That's probably due to the fact that there are fewer divers aboard, and they know some awesome little reefs.  Awkwardly enough, dive master Andrew (of the afore-blogged accidental almost nut grab) was aboard this dive as well.  (so embarrassing)  If he remembered my "incident" (which he probably didn't), he was nice enough not to say so.  He's super helpful and competent (and totally adorable to boot), so my scuba husband didn't have to assume the role of the only eye candy on the trip, and I didn't have to lift a single tank.  Also, I got some great shots on this dive.  Lots underwater.  Although the water was cold, and the visibility was a little low, it was a good dive.

My most epic selfie.  Ever.  I still can't believe this is me.

There was a shark in this pic, I swear.
Ok, so it was a only a nurse shark.  Still....

We saw lots of bugs on our dive.
Caught a couple for dinner.

"At 60 ft,  hair looks its best," said no one, ever.

Schools of little, yellow fish.

Still newbie diver enough to love the bubbles.

Merhusband

Minimum Wage Increases Will Eat Your Grandma

Minimum wage raises are not the answer to our economic woes.  They will not stop inflation, and they are only a band-aid solution to our still-ailing economy. The formula is simple, guys.  Minimum wage raise = inflation.  Sure it's a little bit long term, but there it is.  My opinions tend to be pretty unpopular in some circles (and by "some" I mean "most'), so let me tell you a story, boys and girls.  Something whimsical to make my point...

  Once upon a time, there was a girl named Little Red Riding Hood.  She was industrious and kind and worked very, very hard.  She operated a service that provided meals and companionship to lonely and hungry grandmas.  She was REALLY good at what she did, all the fat and happy grandma's could testify.

  And they did!  By word of mouth, her business doubled.  And then it tripled.  And poor Red Riding Hood was running herself to death, trying to keep the grandmas happy and fed, and keep nefarious wolves at bay.  (The little pigs were her biggest supporters.)  She decided very quickly she needed help, so she carefully selected a very competent fleet of delivery drivers, professional grandma-sitters, and big, burly wolf bouncers and, per her state's regulations, paid them all the expected salary - minimum wage.  Her business flourished, and over time some of the employees stood out.  She gave some of them raises and appointed them to management, allowing her to hire even more fabulous people to help keep her grandmas happy and the wolves away.  Then, one day, the king decreed the minimum wage should be raised.  She had to give all her helpers more, and why not?  They deserved it.  But then she was at the end of her labor budget.  She wasn't able to give her managers raises, but that was ok.  They were above the minimum wage anyway.  Everyone was happy.  Slowly, though, food prices started to creep up.  It seemed that the food suppliers had been hit by the wage increase as well, and food was getting expensive as the cost was passed down the line.  Red Riding Hood was facing new cost increases, but the worst part was, so were her workers!  The minimum wage guys (the delivery guys and the wolf beaters) fared about the same.  In the long run, none of them was any better off, but they were no worse either.  They were making more money, so they could afford it when their porridge cost a little more.  Little Red Riding Hood felt a pinch, but she was a wealthy entrepreneur by now, so she simply tightened the belt a smidge, raised her prices a bit and went on with her life.  The ones who were hurt the most were the managers.  They were making just above the minimum wage to start, and now everything was costing more?!  Slowly, the managers (the middle class) started to disappear.  Red's business started to fail because she simply couldn't keep up, and because the grandmas, who were on a fixed income, couldn't afford the price increases.  More of her management fell to simple labor because the funds had dried up everywhere else.  As the minimum wage increase took a strong hold, the pyramid started to crumble, because there was no middle.  All that was left was the bottom and a quickly disintegrating top.  Once the top was gone, the bottom began to crumble too.  The income was gone, and the money dried up.  It was at that point, the wolves paid off the workers and ate all the grandmas.  The end.

Grandma - it's what's for dinner!