Jog Blog Day 1

I went out to jog today saying piss on the rain and just going for it. My run/walk combo went well. I did a warm up of about 20 minutes of brisk walking followed by 7 repetitions of jogging for 1 minute and walking for 2. I was in the cool down when, as we call it around here, a Turd Floater hit. The rain (which I am personally responsible for bringing, but more on that in a few) was heavy enough to soak through my french-braided hair! I drove home in my sports bra and panties. I of course had to call my Pal B and tell her, and I think she said something to the effect of, "You're gonna get arrested for that shit!".

Now, as far as me being responsible for the rain- and you heard it here first my loyal readers- as soon as I decided to get outside and exercise copious amount of rain started to fall in drought-laden Georgia! I feel that Governor Pardue should give me a cash reward, the key to the city, and I should have a street in Downtown named after me: Milk Maid Avenue!

I learned a fascinating bit of trivia from one of the running websites I have been frequenting since my desire to shape up has taken, well- shape. Did you know that improperly holstered breasts can bounce as far as 8 vertical inches while running?! That goes for us bustier gals as well as members of the A cup club.

Now, some of you may think I'm a pervert and some of you may think I'm a sadist, but I want to see a normal little A cup boobie bounce like that. Whatever you may think, I know that deep down you too want to know just how in the hell something like that is possible!

--The Milk Maid makes milk shakes, but they only come in more than a mouthful size!

Getting My Beefy Backside In Gear, And Other Thoughts

I have decided to start jogging. I have a very basic, simple and EASY plan that I think I can stick to... There are tons of ideas and advice at runnersworld.com if anyone else out there feels the need to hit the trail and toss back a mile or two. I would like to be able to run a mile in under 8 minutes. Truth be told, I would like to be able to run a mile without passing out. So, that's my goal now. I'm giving myself 5 weeks!

Seeing as how I have heard NADA from the large clinic place as far as employment I will have lots of time to devote to exercise. I put in an application at the hospital and for a waitress position at the local veteran's hall. It's amazing really- I feel like I went to school so I could either a) stay unemployed or b) have old men oogle my boobies BUT makes lots of money pouring the booze in them.

I blame my need to become healthier on two things: My pal B informed me that she's managed to lose 10 pounds. In a month. Without having to chop off an appendage! Admittedly, I'm jealous. I'm also quite porky. I'm also pretty competitive, so if I can lop off a few blobby fat rolls in the name of good clean fun then why not go for it!?

In other news:

Faith just informed me that the reason we wear underwear is so that our butt hair doesn't get too long. The underwear is there to grind it down. Ya see, the things you learn from ten year olds are just mesmerizing!

Ava has decided that weemweem (ice cream) is the best stuff ever to eat. She says that weemweem needs a poon (spoon). Budder (peanut butter) also needs a poon. You just can have one without the other. Cheers to poon and budder!

Chance To Win!

I heard about a pretty cool promo the other day for Boyle's Furniture- a great little discount furniture place. They are having a promo event by having a $10,000 Dream Room Furniture Giveaway!



If you are like me, then your couch has cereal crumbled all over it, a sprinkle of baby tinkle from a diaper mishap long ago, some current cat and dog hair, something red- possibly spaghetti sauce?- that wont go away no matter how hard you scrub, and other stuff that is best left unmentioned (and get your mind out of the gutter- I know what you are thinking and it's NOT anything like that).



Here is the link to the contest for anyone who is interested- just click the artwork below to go sign up:

And if you happen to win your very own dream room, can you send The Milk Maid a little something... like a new couch.

--The Milk Maid thinks furniture should come with dishwasher safe cushions!

"Like Some Kind Of Cloning Experiment"

"I do not want my pants touching my stomach!" commanded the Big One. "I do not want to wear socks- they hurt my feet and make my toes feel crunchy!" she lamented as she rolled around on the hardwood floor with a foot in the air. She is not a morning person. She doesn't like authority telling her what to do. Although highly open to suggestions, she will not take a direct order. She's moody, she's willful, and she's stubborn. And impatient. She's also tenderhearted, a daydreamer, always willing to stop and help a friend or an animal. Did I mention she's also impatient?

The Little One has a stare that will pierce your soul. She's demanding. She's particular. She makes Imelda Marcos' love for shoes look like a carefree weekend hobby. She can pick the simple style of door lock with a screw driver. She can charm the pants off a priest, she can sell a leg of lamb to a vegetarian, and she has so much energy that at times it's like watching a comet rocket through the living room.

Between the two of my daughters, I can't even begin to tell you who has the most vivid of personalities. Faith is constantly into a video game or a scary RL Stine-ish book. Ava has her daddy wrapped around her pinkie finger. Faith can be like living with a piranha- don't dangle your sarcasm into her lake of wit or you will be gobbled up. The velociraptor's style befits Ava... show her something just one time and she will come back and gnaw your arm off with the knowledge she's gained.

And to think, as smart and funny and beautiful as my girls have been described by others (as well as myself) the same theme keeps coming up over and over...

They are exactly like I am. They look like me, they act like me, they walk and talk like me. I hate pants on my belly button. I can pick locks with screw drivers.

I made the comment to Jef the other night (after Ava had flooded the bathroom floor with a cup she'd hidden away sometime after her last bath... um, premeditation anyone?), that was something to the effect of "I hope the next kid that springs forth from my womb is a HELL of a lot more like you than me!"

--The Milk Maid says wee wee wee all the way home.

Very Foto-Genic Celeb

Does anyone see anything very, um... outstanding in this photo?

Um, you say no. You see nothing other than a loving father carrying his adorable daughter around?

I think I see why Angelina is so in love with this guy... Look closer. Here, I'll help you. How about NOW:

--The Milk Maid says hotdamn, yummy, and ohmegawd! in her best O face.

That'll Teach Me To Hum A Happy Tune

The Scene:

Me puttering about the kitchen, cooking dinner, humming to myself. Faith enters the room, circles around me to see what I am making (it's basil mustard chicken, if you were wondering) and asks...

Faith: Mama, what are you humming?
Me: The theme song to Flipper. You know... They call him Flipper, Flipper, faster than lightning...
Faith: (blank stare) What's a Flipper?
Me: (shocked and waiving arms wildly) Flipper! The dolphin! He helped his little pal Sandy out of trouble. You know, like Timmy and Lassie, but only with a dolphin.
Faith: Who are Timmy and Lassie?
Me: (open mouth, slack jawed expression) Why don't you go watch Pokemon and let me finish dinner?

The thought running through my head:

Frick on a stick, am I really THAT old?!

--The Milk Maid is in fear of becoming the Buttermilk Maid.

home theater seating

One Of Those Friday Mish-Mash Kinda Days

Been a while, hasn't it gang?

I'm having one of those days- you know, where you can't decide whether to pull your hair out and scream or dance, sing a silly song, and burp the alphabet.

I think I would most like to be laying on a sofa bed, somewhere about 1000 miles west of here, deciding what I want for dinner and having some girl-talk time with my peeps B&K. I've felt really secluded the past month and a half, and it's mostly because I dove head first into my clinicals. I wish I had some IRL friends that weren't two-faced hypocrites, but that's another story and another woe for another day.

I am still trying to round up contacts and former employers and dates and times and my bra size from 8 years ago (that would be easier than half the shit they are wanting, truth be told) for the HR lady (whose last name rhymes with marijuana). That's just irony in itself people, because I have not met a bigger buzz kill in say FOREVER. She's very needy and not so bright. Sigh- the things we do for gainful employment.

Faith's new nickname is Captain Obvious. With comments like, "Mom that man is cutting grass with his lawnmower!" and "Do you think it's hot outside because the temperature is so high?" let's just say she's earned the moniker.

--The Milk Maid says stinky feet, the game that's neat!

xbox 360

Hide-Y Ho Neighbors!

Hello all- I've been quite sparse. I've finished clinicals and MISS the FUCK out of my peeps at super huge clinic spot. I felt all bLaH last Friday- too blah for a mish-mash even, so I've kinda ducked low and been holding a lot of stuff in.

Some "hey we have a time line now" kind of stuff has been happening on the Let's Have Another Baby front- we're looking into January or February of 2009 if you were hanging on the edge of your seats... like all ONE of you.

Faith started 5th grade recently- and she loves it tremendously! The teacher is a young skinny preppy peppy pep-squadish type, but I will resist the urge to annihilate her with a bazooka.

I got a new cat Saturday night. Jef was already against the cat, but I went against him with the mantra of "it's easier to ask forgiveness than permission"! The cat's name, who is a loverly long haired black furred male sans nads type, was Jellybean. I said Ix Nay on the AmeNay and changed it to Mungojerrie (wiki this!). Mungo J is an outside kinda guy, so as soon as he graces us with his presence again I will feature him!

--The Milk Maid says tis better to win by admitting your sins that to lose with a halo.

Best Buy

Find Wall, Bang Head, Repeat As Needed.

Today was the first day in almost 5 whole weeks of phlebotomy-ing that I really really wanted to mame behead squash a child into tiny little pieces...

The Scene: The pediatric phlebotomy/lab area

The Victim: A pre-coffee, pre-breakfast, pre-menstrual Milk Maid

The Culprit: Very tall, very muscular 10 year old boy

The Crime (according to Boy): Did not want a "booboo" on his "little tiny finger". He whine*cry*sniffle wanted his "mommy". "Nooooo booooooboooooo nooooooo!"

The Crime (according to Milk Maid): Whiny boy in need of parental supervision, a set of testicles, and some added testosterone.

To The Rescue: MB (my pedi-partner) who ran through the door and said, "My gosh I thought that you were killing a baby!"

--The Milk Maid says her ears still ring with the sound that surely bellows forth from the depths of Hell.

got acne?

Ninja Phlebotomist Girl Has Wicked Fast Reflexes

This week during my clinical adventures I have moved to the pediatric side of the lab. The phleb that closes down at night will always have to wrap up on the pedi side, so the experience is a must. However, in my book- a book that includes cooties, vomit, urine, and pain in the ass spoiled brats- the experience is bringing in mixed reviews.

I love the kids that come in that are ready and willing to go. I love the kids that are scared of what will happen to them and I take the time to explain what I am doing and why it's being done. I even love the babies that have puked up milk on me (cause God bless them they are so freakin cute, even with sour-milk breath). I even love the kids who squeal and wiggle- they bleed faster and get out sooner.

What I don't like is a 13 year old girl who tries to bite me (yes I said BITE me) while I'm doing a strep throat swab. What I dislike equally as much is the 11 year old who took a fucking swing at me while doing yet another throat culture (I'm beginning to see a pattern here).

I handled biting girl by pinching her nose (ever so gently of course) and forcing her to either open up and let me swab or pass out. Either way works, right?

I handled the knock out kid like this: She swung at my head with her left hand, I used my left to grab her wrist (as her unconcerned mother looked on) and use my fast reflexes to swab just as vigorously as I could with my right hand. I then proceeded to give her a glare that could have melted polar ice. One of those "You picked the wrong bitch today" looks. My Nike Shox are now officially my new bitch shoes.

Starting Monday I will float between offices- the main lab, a satellite location that is 10 minutes from home, and possibly yet another location later on that is south of here but still very close. My application has officially been pulled for review by Head Lab Lady. SB, who is 2nd in command, but my direct supervisor, assures me I have job. Not that I was too worried.

--The Milk Maid says why buy the cow when you get the Milk Maid for free?

Tone up with this fantastic weight equipment... You know you wanna!

Enjoy The Ride

Disclaimer: This post may include the following phrases...

• Bear with me here
• No, I am not entirely sure where I am going with this either
• Stop me if I ramble
• My train of thought has derailed yet again

(and my personal favorite)

• There once was a man from Nantucket

With Big J working some odd freakin hours it's given me some time to contemplate lots of stuff. The important things like Oh hey if you kick the tar out of the couch that toe nail will completely fall off! and Why does the dog enjoy eating saw dust?!

I miss my fella when he's gone, but I have actually had some nice insights to myself as of late. One of which is just how high my energy level is. And how the whole concept of "when I'm busy I'm happy" (aka idle hands do the Devil's work) really applies to me.

Another insight I've had is how co-dependent I am with Big J. The longest time apart I've had from my babe since we started dating is the 3 1/2 days I was in Houston recently. It was healthy time away (ok, maybe the combo and amount of wine, Greek food, and jelly beans I had wasn't healthy, but me being ME away from Big J was beneficial). But as soon as I got back to the airport... well, let's just saw those "drop your luggage and run into your lover's arms to the cheers of the crowd" commercials got nuttin on me and him. I know now that I can make it on my own for more than 5 minutes. I'm a big kid now, yo!

A lot of these insecurities from the past are what caused me to change my name from That Other Name to Aradia (which is technically what it used to be before it was changed... I need to publish a Cliff's Notes for all this, right?). Jef knew me as That Other Name long before I got the wild hair to change it. Jef still calls me by That Other Name as often as not. In all my school and work stuff I tend to go by that name since Aradia is so unusual, has such an interesting meaning, and leads to a lot of uncomfortable conversation (the conversation itself is uncomfortable- I'm still anti-social by any title). Many of my virtual friends out there (that'd be some of y'all) even know That Other Name.

I really think that the whole Aradia name has been a sort of Talisman for me. It's who I want to be. Aradia is confident and cool, even slightly cocky and headstrong at times. Aradia will jump into a gang and become a pirate ninja mobster and help to kick people's asses. That Other Name is shy little girl who wouldn't (couldn't) muster the voice to order in a restaurant for herself until she was 17 years old. If then. That Other Name was a badge of weakness and shame. That Other Name endured hardships and tragedy that no child should have to face, and that even the Mighty Aradia still isn't ready to blog about.

In my recent past, by whatever moniker I've chosen to divulge, I have managed to come out ahead. Be it in school, in work, or just in daily life, I have managed to merge the best of That Other Name with the best of Aradia. I've felt a wholeness that doesn't need a designation to exist.

A rose by any other name I suppose?

Am I going to narrow my appellation down to just one in the near future? No... As far as I've come it's still nice to have my talisman. It's still nice to be able to completely be myself here, and That Other Name is never likely to let me off the chain to reach far enough to be comfortable.

I suppose part of the progress I've made (or the Lexapr0 has made) in me is to come to an agreement with myself about all of this. Truthfully, it's all trivial to most people out there. To me it feels like a big step forward.

--The Milk Maid says sweet are the uses of adversity!

Akavar

This N Thats N Such

Hello All!

Yet another lovely day in phlebotomy-land! I'm really tired, I'm really hungry, and I really don't wanna cook, so perhaps delivery is on the menu tonite.

Big J is clucking along happily at his new job (did I mention he has a job? He's been there 2 weeks and loves it- there, I mentioned it!). He hurt his foot the other day and has been limping around on a swollen, blueish tootsie for a couple of days. He was off of work today, so he iced his foot on and off most of the day. Perhaps I wont have to amputate it-- maybe he will go to the DOCTOR (ahem, if you are reading this, you big goober!).

Anywhos- perhaps one day I will write something witty and not about blood. Of course, maybe one day I will have enough brain cells left to write more than 12 complete sentences in a blog too. Everyone hold your breath and see what color blue you turn before that happens, ok?

Oh- and I promise a Milk Maid Behaving Badly in Houston post soon. Kinda soon. Soonish...

--The Milk Maid says two-step your way to your powdered sugar stash!

private jet charter

Hi, My Name Is Milk Maid And I Suck

I have been SO F-IN BUSY at clinicals that when I come home I promptly collapse into a heap in the garage. I cannot even fathom walking into the living room and laying on something besides cold hard concrete. I am up to 227 sticks in less than 2 weeks (I need 306 to ace the clinicals class) and I am a super duper pooper doopered gal.

Can I reiterate the point that I.fuckin.love.my.job i'm not getting paid to do, so maybe it isn't really a job, but nonetheless bear with me and all that jazz! Seriously, I have never been so happy to get up and go do something for zero moolah in my whole existence. I haz a lurve, oh yes I do.

I put in an application to my clinical site for employment, and my "girl" J who is over me, but under the direct supervisor, told me that if it was up to her she would have hired me on day 3 of my training. Even the big boss (S) bragged to my phlebotomy teacher about how wonderful I was. My head is totally like this --> [--------------------------------] big. And then they all found out I can mutilate speak the Spanish language- and they were jumping for joy! Asi is la vida, no?

--The Milk Maid says me gusta tu carne!

personalized gifts

Drink Du Jour Winner

Out of all the wonderful, tasty, cool and frost beverages that were submitted there was one that stood out from the crowd! Not only was this drink tasty, it was something I already had most of the ingredients for and was made easily and quickly! Of course, good things come to those who wait and a great deal of shopping and mixing for an optimum beverage is not that much of a stretch when it comes down to it. The real factor in deciding who #1 was going to be was the taste (like duh!- right?).



So, without further adieu the Drink Du Jour winner for June was.....

Deena at The Lazy P and her kickin' Gimlet!

Very clean, very crisp, very easy to make and imbibe- the gimlet is a fashionable drink that you don't have to put on your three piece suit to have a sip! Perfect for summertime, party time, and anytime (!) it quickly became my favorite new fire water.

And, if you drink just enough of these tasty lil drinks, you can do the following just like me and my pal D...

Deena, your loverly prize from Milk-Induced Coma Land will arrive on your door step within the next 10-12 days. Once you get it I'll post a pic for all to see!

--The Milk Maid says please sign this release to indemnify your rights.

Ladybug steam cleaners

They Call Me Pokey McSticker

People. Arms. Median cubital veins. Blood. Gauze. Paperwork. Computers. Big honkin' needles.

Can I just say, "I freakin LOVE my work!!!". Really, really, really!!!

The lab girls are so friendly (and share my warped sense of humor), the boss comes in late and leaves early, and most people have superb veins. And those people who seem to have forgotten to bring their veins IN for their lab work? Oh, I root and toot and hunt around like an old pro. If I still don't find a vein, I just yell ("heeeelp" squeals the Milk Maid).

Life is good... I am tired...

--The Milk Maid says half the sticks at one third of the pain!

headphones

Firework Friday Mish-Mash

Happy 4th my peeps!

I'm in happy Houston for the long weekend... B&K have pretty much taken me hostage and are feeding me copious amounts of food, forcing me to imbibe far too much alcohol, making me sing and dance to Salt & Peppa songs, watch dirty comedy movies, and have a TERRIFIC time!

Today we head out for some adventure (to some undisclosed location).

Hope everyone has a safe and happy holiday!

--The Milk Maid says whatchu wanna do, I wanna shoop!

memory

I'll Take Peter, Paul, And Mary Songs For $500 Alex!

I'm leaving on a jet plane! No, really!!

A couple of weeks ago- after shutting down their blogs without TELLING me first, giving me a heart attack, making me has a sad, and then bribing me to stop whining- my pals B&K hatched a glorious scheme.

"Come to Houston, Milk Maid!" they echoed in happy harmony.

So, me being the clingy, needy wife that I am- who would never, ever leave her hubby for a long weekend trip to a city far, far away- promptly fooled all the doubters (B included) and booked a ticket to H-ton. Yes, really. Really, really.

So, for the past week or more, every single day (occasionally multiple times) my phone will ring or my email will bleep with the same question: Are you still coming?

Of course the answer is and always has been: Are you still sure you want me?

--The Milk Maid says kiss me and smile for me!

(Does colon cleanser work on commas?)

The Case Of The Missing Sister Mish-Mash

Thursday night a little after 9pm the phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Jef's sister D's number. I handed him the phone, thinking the call would be something about the upcoming move that Jef's dad will be making or other brotherly/sisterly based conversation.

Within a few seconds I realized by the look on Jef's face that this call was very, very different. It was Bro Mikey calling (D's hubby). D was supposed to pick their son up from the airport at 3. She'd sent their son a text saying she was running a little behind. D never showed up at the airport; no one had heard from her in person since noon.

We all feared the worst.

Jef's brother, Ronny, passed away just over a year ago. D has a history of seizures. Our minds raced- what could have happened?! A heart attack, a stroke, a seizure-- was she carjacked in the middle of downtown Atlanta?

Needless to say, we didn't sleep a wink that night awaiting the news of Deby's fate.

The next morning on the way to grab breakfast Jef's cell phone rang. My heart sank. I didn't want to hear the news that I was certain awaited. I didn't want to see Jef's eyes well with tears and his heart break over the loss of his sister.

D was safe and sound... and I have never been so happy to hear that someone had spend the night in jail.

The rest of the story is still unfolding, but it is claimed that D's transgressions were just a case of a simple mix up. Only time will tell... And jailbird or not I'm glad as heck she's ok!

--The Milk Maid says roast your jailbird at 425 degrees for one hour for best flavor.

Bottoms Up!

If you will recall, not very long ago I asked for some drink suggestions for a little contest. Thanks to all those of you who have sent suggestions like Deena, Mother Hen, K, Dalton's Mom (ohh- Dalton's mom- what kind of beer?? I'm dying to drink know!) and any one else I've forgotten on my road to drinkdom. I'm still open for any and all suggestions and voting will be open until the 30th of June.

There is a REAL prize involved here- and it's purdy spiffy if I do say so myself!

To note: Last week Jef and I tried the cranberry margarita (thanks Mother Hen!!!). Tonite sounds like a Lazy P Gimlet kind of nite.

--The Milk Maid says CHEERS!

Window Pain

Once upon a time, in a far away land, lived the Milk Maid and her exceedingly brilliant husband, the Milk Man.

These two characters cavorted in many a scheme, but perhaps none so great as to install a window in the sacred kitchen. You see, long before the Milk Man came to live in the Casa Del Leche, the industrious Milk Maid built (with her own glove-clothen hands) the soon to become Casa De Leche for all to see. However, the kitchen sink view was lacking in the fact that there was no window to view the glory beyond it's pane (on a side note, the garage is all there would be to view, but nonetheless the Milk Maid proclaimed that if she were to stand for wretched hours on end scrubbing and scraping and cleaning the dishes like some simple peasant girl well she absolutely MUST have a glimpse of something other than sheet rock).

The Milk Man obliged the fair Milk Maid, measuring and cutting the wall that was to become a portal to the world.

The Milk Maid was slightly worried, but she had complete faith and trust in her man. Well, pretty much.

The preliminary cuts were made, and the Milk Man handed his lovely bride her tool kit. She chose the hammer without further adieu.

Ravishing the wall blow by blow, like a scene from a Victorian Romance Novel gone amok, the Milk Maid tore away at the wall.

A gasp from the Milk Maid... Was it the evil sorcerer behind the wall? A dragon? The curse of a long dead king?

No... it was far worse!

It was 2 electrical cables, one telephone wire, and a 4 inch water pipe that gripped our sweaty adventurers that day.

The Milk Man turned to the Milk Maid, with love in his eyes and proclaimed, "Woman, I think our journey should end here".

The Milk Maid, with sorrow in her eyes asked, "Why can we make an S-bend in the pipe and reroute the wires? I mean, come on dude- let's rock and roll. Mama wants to see some sunshine every once and a while!".

The Milk Man touted, "Fair Maid of the Milk, have you lost your mind? Do you know the hours evolved in something of that magnitude?"

The Milk Maid looked almost doleful, then recanted, "Hey jackleg- all I want is a little sunshine in MY day, I don't know about YOU, but..."

"How about a nice tile back splash here? It's easy to patch sheet rock, and we can put a beautiful mosaic- perhaps of the beach- right about here..."

"Ooooh!" gleamed the Milk Maid. "And maybe even a little metal back splash over here, and some blue paint here, and a new floor here, and even a couple of new handles for the cabinets which need a good scrubbing by the by, and maybe even a couple..."

--The Milk Man says "Yes, my lady"!