Sud.

My husband and I are hooked on Scrabulous. I hate to admit this, but he's better at it than I am and has won most games.

This is a conversation we just had while playing:

"Just cause these guys are from India doesn't mean they can't know 'sud' is a word," says husband.

(The makers of Scrabulous (yes, stolen from the game Scrabble) are from India.)

"Sud is not a word," says I.

"Yes it is! SUDS! It's a word!" says husband.

"SUDS is a word, SUD is not," says I.

I look it up. Sud is not found in any English dictionary. However, 'suds' is. I tell him this.

"See! It's a word!" says husband.

"Suds is a word, but you can't have just one suds, or, sud. You have SUDS."

"Whatever," says husband.

New blog.

I started a weight loss blog: Fatty McGoo: Baby Weight Begone. I'm putting it all out there. I have no shame. And yes, I even tell you how much I weigh.

This is what I love about corporate america.

A risk management group of a corporation decides there shall be NO extra stuff included in an e-mail signature. NOTHING. No smiley faces, no weird statements, no declarations of faith. Multicolored is okay. Different fonts, fine. But nothing else!!! Got it? It's been plastered all over the place. If you don't know that by now, then you've been in a work-induced coma for a week.

A week later.....

A group of managers decide that a small part of the big corporation should have a byline. Yes, a byline. (Please refer to my post about innovation for my feelings regarding buzzwords.) Said byline will be included in every person's e-mail signature -- or, at least, those that work for the small part of big corporation, and those that follow instructions blindly.

Gotta love it.

Side note: My feelings for bylines (unless extremely clever or tongue and cheeky) are the same as those of mission statements - totally pointless and a waste of time to write. How many mission statements do you read on a daily basis? How many do you notice? Yeah, now you've flocked to my side. Come on little sheepies, come on.

Happy St. Patty's Day!

I will not be drinking green beer, I will not be eating corned beef, I will not be wearing green (even hidden green underwear), I will not be drinking any beer for that matter, nor will I be thinking about drinking a beer (okay, maybe a little -- I did walk by House of Shields, which is celebrating St. Patty's Day in full force, and I was a bit nostalgic, although I've I've only been there three times (1. had drinks and dinner, 2. wanted drinks and dinner, but they no longer served dinner, and the bartender said if we went and got some, to bring him back some, which annoyed me to no end so we left, and 3. I sat glumly while 8 months pregnant, sipping my 7-up, while my husband drank a few beers before we had a "last hurrah" dinner before Mateo arrived (totally a bad idea))).

Instead, I will be falling asleep around 8pm in a daze of nyquil because I have a niggling cold that my dear sweet Mateo gave me.

Hand holding.

My husband and I used to be hand holders.

Used. to. be.

I just realized today that we probably haven't held hands since Mateo was born. I know this is mostly due to one of us strolling or holding Mateo when we're out in the world together, but it just hit me how things change without even thinking about them too much. I'm sure, before Mateo, if I sat around one morning and realized my husband and I weren't holding hands as much as we used to while out in public, I would immediately think: Oh no! We aren't the same as we used to be. Whine, whine, moan, groan, the world is coming to and end.

This morning, while thinking about it, it just made me feel slightly sad. Our world was for so long about each other; and it was a world filled with love and conflicts and fun, and good and bad times. Now our world is all about Mateo: Is he eating enough? Is he getting sick? Why isn't he sleeping well at night all of a sudden? It's about getting him to daycare and picking him up. It's about spending time with him on the weekends. It's about entertaining him, having fun with him, experiencing things with him. It's definitely not about us anymore.

And yes, that's okay. But at the same time, it's almost like my husband and I have been together all this time just to get to this point in our lives and now we're together but only as a team to ensure Mateo grows up happy, healthy and well-rounded.

Which is scary because how will we greet each other 15 years from now when Mateo is more independent and starting to create his own life?

Lately I've been feeling like I'm always trying to finish something so I can start something else just so I can finish it. I think it's time to stop and smell the roses, as they say.

Week From H-E-L-L: 1, Husband: 0

This post has nothing to do with me. Really! Absolutely nothing. I just think it's pretty interesting to think about all the things gone awry for my husband this week. So, to memorialize them, I will list them for you to read:

1. Parked our car with baby seat in front parking lot of BART, did not tell me, so I went to the back parking lot and thought our car was stolen or towed.
2. Forgot to bring a mail scale to work - even though I told him fifty times AND right before I left to drop off Mateo at daycare to bring it, don't forget, bring it. And I had to endure eye rolls and "yes, yes" even though I knew he'd forget it.
3. Left my fabulous slow cooker lasagna meal out all night, so it and all its disgustingness was wasted. I really wasn't too heart broken about it.
4. Locked his keys in the car. Called me, but with a sleeping toddler and daycare opening up at 6:30am, I could possibly rescue him at 5:45am. AAA was called. AAA took care of him.
5. Left out my fabulous Mediterranean pasta dish, so it and all its grassy-tastingness was wasted.* I really wasn't too heart broken about it.

It's only Thursday. Can't wait to see what today and Friday bring.

*He insisted he didn't do this on purpose, and said, although I find it hard to believe, that he actually liked the meal. I said, "I didn't. It tasted too much like...." He cut me off, "...chicken?" (I'm really picky about meat and meat tastes and meat textures and meat funky bits) I said, "No. Grass. It tasted like grass."

IBM

These commercials alone make me want to work for IBM. Or the company that came up with the idea. Can I say I'm entirely sick of innovation and its buzzwords?

I have two serious addictions.

One makes me a super geek and rather sad. The other is really serious, so much so, my husband, when he hears the sound affects, will either mimic the sound or declare he's going to call my family and friends to participate in an intervention.

One addiction is my friend Ken's fault. The other, my own doing.

One addiction causes me to interact with random people whom I don't know. And sometimes those that I do, but usually not. The other, I'm a complete loner - and I like it that way.

Hi, my name is Janine and I'm a Superheroes-aholic and a Staries-aholic.

To explain myself. While I don't seek out competition, and generally don't care to compete, I do like to be the best at whatever I am doing, and, like the rabid gamer I'm turning out to be, I have to get all the super powers I can. Which means I have to target random people who have the super powers I need. Some days are better than others, but I'm getting there. My other goeal it to get a score in Staries at least in the 20K's.

So what does this mean? I play Superheroes all the freaking time. I'm constantly searching for people online who have powers I need and attacking them. I don't really care about the fun of it anymore (and it is fun because each power has a funny attack description, like turning someone's mom's tea to alcohol so his/her mom gets drunk). I just want the powers. I must gain all the powers.

So you'd think, me being me and liking to be goofy and whatnot, I would have come up with a fab-u-lous superhero name. Nope. I'm dumb and first picked Joe Bloggs (don't ask), and then picked Sizzle. My Superhero picture? Cousin Ben - you remember him, he went to Montreal with my husband and I and mini baking Mateo. So yeah. I've never been one for superheroes or comics, so I really don't know what to call myself, and that's not really the point, now is it?

I came across Staries a month ago. It's your basic video game - match up the same colored stars in rows of three or more by shifting rows left, right, up, down. At about level 4, certain stars get locked so you can't move the row until you somehow get the same color stars moved to the locked star. It's not not really complicated. I play this endlessly.

My goal? To get on the leader board. Why? Because I can.

I don't play this all the time because once you start a game, you really can't stop. So it doesn't work so well at work or when I'm watching Mateo. I usually wait until Mateo is asleep and then I'll play game after game after game. My husband will call me to come look at something, and I'll refuse. Because my stars will get locked. And. I. Can't. Have. That.

As stars are eliminated, the game makes a "zzziiing!" noise. This is also the notification to my husband that I'm playing Staries, and unless the building is on fire, I'm not moving.

So yes, I'm an addict. I'm pathetic. I'm a geek. I like my games.

Until I achieve super stardom and then I'll move on.