le plus ça change...

le plus c'est la même chose! Eeergh, peeps! Remember zee dining room? It is a gorgeous beauty to behold, but recall that it took over two years to get there, dahlinks! Whimper. Well, if Lord B ain't doggone and done started the front hallway! Behold my "new" entryway:

For truly, nothing says "Season's Greetings, one and all!" than exposed lath and plaster. Aaack! Don't get me (too) wrong, somewhere in my ungracious, shrewy heart of leetle hearts, I am super grateful for his renovation madness, but really?! Less than a month before the big Ex-Mass? Mergh! Wahhh! I am assured by himself that there will at least be drywall up by the baby Jesus's special day. I say it sounds a bit like the stuff they had to shovel out of the blessed babe's birthplace. Rats and poo, peeps. Rats and poo. And you know what rhymes with poo, peeps? That's right. Haiku.

where did the walls go?

I wanted something festive

by Christmas? my ass

Have a sneak peek at my Christmas letter. And pray for me. I am cc'ing all the big fellas.

Dear Santa, baby Jesus, and Chancellor of my university:

All I want for Christmas is peace on earth. And in my front hallway.

Yours, 

Lady Buttons

too much excitement!

Peeps! I done convocated for mah Master's degree on Friday! It was so much fun (well, not *so* much fun, because it was an early/long day!) But what made it teh awsum was that lil B and Lord B disengaged from their regularly scheduled Friday activities to come to convocation and cheer me on. Best moment ever? Despite the caution from on high that family should refrain from applauding until the end, when I was on stage, I heard a distinct and heartfelt leetle "woot!" from my lil B. I almost cried!

From the administration side of things, grad was kind of cool in a smelly, patriarchal kind of way. If I had to kneel in front of our school's chancellor like those fool undergrads, I would have lost my dang mind. But as I was getting my master's, I had to go up on stage and shake his hand as he sat 'pon his lordly throne and "confer[red] upon [me] the degree Master of Arts. Congratulations." (he said that to all the kids gettin' their MAs.) It was kinda like meeting Santa only he wasn't so jolly. And a little creepy. Hm. Come to think of it, it was more like getting a clammy handshake from Emperor (and one-time Chancellor) Palpatine from Star Wars. Le eep! I should've whooped out my light sabre and wasted his fool ass. Ma ha. I jest. Like the nerdy fool I am.

***

On to bigger and better things! Well, littler and better, but anyhoo... Betty and Barney's lil fella Bam Bam turned uno this last week, so we scooted down to the US of A to get a-celebratin' his teensy leetle awesomeness! It was a lovely party, and such great food! Betty made the "best birthday cake" with sour cream frosting from Smitten Kitchen and peeps, it was to die for! Lord B, who never, ever finishes cake (I know, weirdo, right? Who doesn't eat cake?!) licked his plate clean. We had a fantastic time! And now, the bubble on this great weekend is popping (and pooping) back to the harsh reality of too many books to read, too many papers to write, and too little time. Looks like I'll be burnin' the midnight oil!

if I see you comin'...

I will preface this post by acknowledging, as I so often do, that I am a Jerky McJerkerson. As I was crossing campus this afternoon, I was reminded of yet another quirky displeasure of mine. You know what vexes me, dahlinks? Grown men wearing jogging pants in public, to non-athletic purpose. The fleece ones (light grey are the WORST!) with the cuffed ankles and drawstring waist are an affront and positively make my eyes bleed! You know what's worse? When such a "gentleman" in question is not even wearing gotchies. (Yes, we CAN tell, you dirty gertie!).

Silly rabbits, jogging pants are for kids! Gentlemen, unless you are emerging the hospital having immediately undergone surgery in a very uncomfortable place, please refrain from wearing jogging/athletic pants in public. Otherwise, I may pull them down to shame you. And don't think I wouldn't do it! That goes double for you, gotchless guy! Blick.

another mystery solved

So as I was cleaning the bathroom for the 47th time this year (you know, since it's the 47th week of the year of our lord 2009), it finally dawned on me why Lord B has never joined this whole social networking/blogging revolution ... me! Peeps, you know I am a wretched and spiteful leetle shrew! I would totally take advantage of the public forum of a Facebook wall or even Twitter updates to nag my fool head off. Of course, being a genteel lady, my delivery would be exquisite. Please enjoy this morning's haiku ode to Lord B:

the bathroom unclean
the groceries are not done
pick up your gotchies

In fairness, Lord B is a darn good hubby. Just maybe... a little, uh, lacking in the follow-through? Does anyone else have a lovely haiku they'd like to share today? I give thee carte blanche to totally zing me for my shrewishness. In fact, I think I'll work on that right now. Y'know, instead of my pehpahs. The Procrastinatrix shall rise again! :)

woe c'est moi

saturday night writin' by Lady Buttons

I'm having one of those Danny Glover in Lethal Weapon "I'm gettin' too old for this shit" kinda days. I have four weeks left of school this term. That would be awesome, except the bulk of the work is due in these next four weeks. And I'm having trouble keeping up with the regular work load! Kill meeeee! This is all worth it, right? Right? Humph. I should be accentuating the positive like I promised I would, but poo, peeps. Lil B is having a funfun sleepover with Geraldine's kids, Lord B is going on a man-date dinner with a bunch of pals from his yoot, and your own lady B is sittin' at home, in front of her computer, trying to write a goddamn paper that's due Monday morning. Eff you, PhD program, and your fun/merriment/life sucking tendencies. Eff you.

Solidarity forev--

--er? Um, just so y'all know, our "strike" is over. Our union membership voted 58% in favour of accepting the university's offer (the same offer they tabled before we went on strike!). So one week on the picket line and we're back at 'er. Though not until the uni and union have 'negotiated' a "back-to-work protocol" -- really?! Uh, yeaaaahh, 'cause during the long strike, we might've forgotten how to climb stairs, or unlock the doors to our offices, or grade papers? Ergh. I think it just gives the uni admin a chance to "nana nana boo boo" the union bargaining team. I hope there is no bloodshed! Anyways, as selfish as I sound, I'm relieved it's over and that it was not a months-long-putting-my-mortgage-payments-in-jeopardy strike, so I can at least sleep at night! Now I can stop rolling pennies and get back to school work! I think I'll still use the Marlon Brando face I perfected on the line, though. :)

File under...wtf?

I am one of those dog owners that prolly make people shake their heads. My beagle has a yellow raincoat (uh, excuse, but does anybody really enjoy the smell of wet dog? Yah, me neither!), and she has a pair of winter booties (she is from Louisiana, after all, and none-too-partial to having ice and snow stuck between her tender leetle paw pads!). Annnyhoooo, if I thought I was crazy, that was soon dispelled when I stumbled across this on-abdomen-pet carrier on Amazon.

Are you kidding me over here? Am I nuts (granted, that's a given!), but doesn't this strike anyone else as ... odd? Taking it a knuckle too far (as always), does this remind anyone else of Kuato, the teensy, creepy, baby-lookin'-mutant-growing-out-of-somebody's-gut leader of the Mars rebellion from Total Recall? Blick! Puppies have four paws for a reason, peeps! They like their walkies! And they are not our babies! And I don't even want to think about zee call of nature? Ergh.