Happy Monday, faithful reader! You know who you are, sitting there with your coffee, refreshing my blog for my latest bit of wisdom. Which banner is your favorite, by the way, and can you please re-theme this bitch, because the pink is really starting to get to me and I don’t have time to do anything about it. April is only two months away. In two months, my life will cease to spin out of control and I may have a moment to breathe.

This is when I generally blog about my fabulous, or not-so-fabulous weekend so I can remind myself that I actually do have a life outside of my house, or that I need to get out more, depending on my state of hibernation. This is the first time in about three weeks that I’ve had nobody in my house except me. The silence… well, “golden” doesn’t say enough.

Without further ado, the weekend in review!

On Friday, I met Martini Lady at a bar and we saw two more bands: Kicking Norma (great stillettos!) and Rise and Fall (totally cute lead singer).  Sadly, I don’t think either band, but Kicking Norma, especially, got the attention they deserved.  The crowd just wasn’t that great, unless Baby Got Back was playing during the set change, and the drinks were watery. My legs are still sore from dancing, or maybe from furniture moving. Either way, Friday night was fantastic, yet again. Martini Lady cracks my shit up.

Durrah (my sister and ATS mentor) and two of her friends (need their URLS!) came into town for an ATS certification all weekend, and crashed at my house. There was much revelry, laughter, henna and awesome costuming (I have the best brown eye flower ever… no, wait, that sounds wrong). There’s nothing like the chuckle that emits from your soul when you say to someone, “yeah, the troupe of belly dancers just left my house.” Ahhhh, good times.

My kids finally got their annual portraits done (because DDG keeps asking for them) and The Husband is officially living in his ManCave, complete with surround sound and brand new bed. I am happily trying to get as much reading done as possible so I can enjoy my 48 hours this weekend at my 2nd annual retreat, without kids or husband. Girl power. Rawr!

It gets even better, though. Yesterday, I discovered that sometime in the last month,  someone threw a used condom on my back porch.

I know this because during Snowmageddon, we had no choice but to let our dogs poop/pee on the flagstone porch. Gross, yes, but there was nowhere else to take them, unless we let them puddle the sidewalk. So, my back porch was covered with dog shit and after a fight with Talker, I went out to take care of business. I worked in a Humane Society 15 years ago, this was really not much different. During my Humane Society nostalgia, as I was shoveling and hosing crap, I noticed a white balloon on the top of the cover of my daughters’ turtle-shaped sandbox.

No, wait, that’s not a… OMG ITS A FUCKING CONDOM *cry*

I told The Husband that I was proud of him for being safe, but that next time, I would appreciate it if he’d dispose of his prophylactics properly. He claims ignorance, but ended up finishing the poop-brothel job, so I’ll just smile and nod. I suppose in honor of last week being National Condom Week, I should be a little more understanding, but I’m not. Out of 30lbs of dog crap I shoveled, the only thing that really made me want to vomit was the condom. Gack.

Anyhoo, the porch is clean and all of my family has survived. I can see green grass again, albeit somewhat soggy. Back to work with me, but first, the SOTW! I cannot wait for this entire album to be released, even if the cover art is creepy as hell.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ewMSDQln-lI