Doodle Book

We really are the coolest people in the world...

2011-03-11T06:25:00.000-08:00

The following is a gmail chat between me and my bestie...we are cool. Just to refresh your memory any use of a;lskdfjowiejfasdlfkj or anything similar is us laughing.

Spanky: i do lunch at 1230

i'm not doing anything probably

what are you doing?

Sent at 11:10 AM on Wednesday

me: thinking about being naughty

Spanky: dang you

i didn't bring money but i'll go w/ you

Sent at 11:15 AM on Wednesday

me: well i could probably get one for ya

Sent at 11:28 AM on Wednesday

Spanky: schweet; i'm actually not real hungry, so i'll be a cheap date today

me: cool yer pretty cheap anyway....

damn homeless vet

Spanky: a;ldskf

it still cracks me up that Number One was talking to Chauncy right before Chauncy and i met in Dallas a couple springs ago and he said "have fun w/ disabled vet'

me: ya....like how funny is that, that you sort of eminate homelessness and veteran

Spanky: veteran?

i do get the homelessness

me: i think you know what i mean

Spanky: b/c drink so much? b/c i like to shoot guns?

b/c i wish i could have served?

me: uh...ya

and you like tevas and fanny packs

Spanky: ;alskdj

me: and you have scabby knees

and skeeter scars from falling asleep under the bridge all night

Spanky: so i'm more of like a Lt. Dan veteran

me: als;kjdfa;lskdfjadf

Spanky: before he got new legs

me: well ya that's the vision that comes to mind

cept you have legs

a;lsdfjwoifjsdf

Spanky: yes, yes i do

;laksjd;f

omg

i want to save this chat

Christ

me: don't bring him into this again

Spanky: jebus?

Things that have begun to annoy the crap outta me at work...

2011-03-05T07:27:00.000-08:00

1. People that carry on a conversation right by a door so that you can't really open the door and then you have to walk around them to get out....MOVE!

2. People that carry on a conversation at the end of the escalator, so that you have to perform a ninja move in order to not get sucked up by the escalator when you get off....MOVE!

3. People that, as soon as the elevator doors open try to get on, nevermind that the elevator is full of people trying to get off. Can ya wait a minute and check before you come barging in with your nose in your iPhone....

4. And seen yesterday...People that wear shirts that show their midriff. Seriously Jeans Day doesn't mean Slut Day additionally not everyone wants to see that, I don't care that you are working your boss for a promotion, decency would be nice.

Man I must be getting old.

This Kid That Moved In With Us...

2011-02-28T18:44:00.000-08:00

So about nine months ago, this kid named Fletcher decided to come live with us.

This is Fletcher. He came from my womb.

He likes to eat...and get it all over his face.

He also likes to crawl under his bouncy seat, its way more fun than sitting in it.

He liked playing with this cooler until he pinched his fingers...

He also likes getting into Mommy's purse...luckily he's way more into the coffee than he is to getting money out of my wallet. We'll see how long this lasts.

Things he doesn't like...He's not terribly fond of the snow.

But he'll get over it.

I Did It!

2011-02-28T18:11:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking about it for weeks. Contemplating it, weighing the pros and cons... and finally I decided it was time. It was time for me to quit Facebook.

I had over 200 "friends" and I had about 50 of them hidden, because they annoyed the ever living crap outta me. Those that I didn't have hidden either never posted or they posted so much they began to fill up my news feed and my actual friends began to annoy me because that was all I saw.

I mean I know your kids are cute but I don't want to read about every trivial cute snicker they make, I know you love your husband but I don't want you going on Facebook every other day to tell me how much you love him and how sweet he is and how much you love your family. Between all that and the constant complaining and people getting into my business I was just done. Not to mention, I was done feeling like a stalker. All I would do is waste time going on Facebook and peer into others peoples lives, in some respects learning things that honestly I don't care to know about some person I haven't even spoken with in real life for over 10 years.

So I'm done with the stalking, I'm done with the time waster, I'm done reading posts about how great your life is and I'm done reading about how shitty your life is. I'm back to being the selfish me, and fill up and entire blog with me....They say Facebook is for self-centered narcissistic people, well I guess its just not big enough for me...

Watching RAW and Remembering War

2010-11-30T06:36:00.000-08:00

So last night, Mr. Vasey and I were settled in and watching Monday Night Raw. Just to give you a quick rundown of what was happening...John Cena was fired becuase he didn't help the leader of the Nexus win the title, but before he left he vowed to take down every member of the Nexus, and last night on Raw he started his revenge.

Towards the end of the show, there was a part that showed two memebers of the Nexus sort of creeping around backstage, in what looked like the broiler room, trying to hide from John Cena, speaking in hushed tones trying to figure out their next move...for some strange reason this brought back my own memories of a war that played out in my town, a war that went on every summer in the mornings before the pool opened...and what were the sides fighting for you might ask? Nothing but bragging rights...

Little Miss Amy Langley and I grew up together. Our families were almost mirror images of each other. Her older sister and my older sister were the same age, her older brother and my older brother...the same age, her and I... the same age, the only flaw in the mirror was in my little sister and her little brother, bout the same age, but you know after a certain age, boys and girls just don't get along...but nevertheless our families did everything together, spent New Years together, our parents would get together and play cards while us kids all played it was perfect...

Amy and I we didn't live all that far from eachother so I would generally walk over to her house and we'd play with matchbox cars in her mothers flower beds, play Wheel of Fortune on their computer, devise ways to break into her neighbors playhouse, or we'd get together with other kids and play a game we called war.

From what I remember about war, it was like a massive game of hide and seek, only you were on teams and you hunted other teams. The playing field was pretty big, basically the neighborhood, hiding in people's backyards, it was a free range...so you'd go out in the neighborhood, and try to find other kids all the while not getting found yourself. I just remember creeping around a lot in other peoples backyards trying to find a good hiding space, crawling under patios, climbing trees, jumping fences all in the name of war. Speaking in hushed tones trying to devise our game plan, and making it back to the house without getting caught...what happened if you got caught? Well I guess we either got taken hostage, or possibly become the bad guys and have to be chased the next game. I really don't remember...

Doesn't really matter I guess, just one of those games kids make up to pass the time before they are able to spend the afternoon at the pool to cool off on a hot summer day.

Passive Aggressive

2010-09-10T11:39:00.000-07:00

I just realized today where I mastered my passive aggressiveness from....

Working in call centers.

I have worked in call centers off and on for 5 years. Its not something I'm proud of, in fact I hate working in call centers, but when you have too much credit card debt and too many car payments and a mortgage payment that kept going up because your escrow keeps being short because of taxes; you gots to do what you gots to do.

And as luck would have it, or well maybe not luck, but just life maybe...I don't know, but anyway I'm actually quite good at customer service. I have a great phone voice, I communicate effectively, I speak proper English and I can even stumble my way through a Spanish call enough to get a phone number and politely say good-bye so that someone somewhere can help the person.

But alas, I realized that, through no fault of my own, working in call centers actually helped me perfect the art of passive aggressive behavior. And additionally it has also helped me to become one of the most sarcastic people I know with some of the driest humor. Which I have also found is not a favorite personality trait of mine...

Below you will find an excerpt from a Gmail chat from earlier today with a friend and former co-worker at said call center:

Couple of things. 1. Nic's thing refers to a birthday party. 2. ;alsjdfl;jwoeifjasldkfjeo or anything that looks similar is our version of LOL, we think it is more fun and the longer the a;alksjfowiefjasdlkf is the funnier we thought it was....so al;skdjf s is just a chuckle but a;slkdfjwoiefjaslkdfweofjasldfj eo would be like ROTFL. 3. Oh snack is the same as oh snap!

Steph: what time is Nic's thing?

me: IDK...lemme look
Sept. 11th 7:30pm at Kim's House
Sent at 1:20 PM on Friday

me: are you gonna go there by yoself or did yo want to go with us?
we probably won't stay long btw...cuz we'll be takin fletch

Steph: i can't stay late i have to be at XPS in the morning, and i'm so tired
all the managers are standing around staring at Melissa; i think they're going to sing happy bday to her, but no one will start
they look stupid

me: they are stupid
yer mom's stupid
Sent at 1:29 PM on Friday

Steph: pish
they finally started singing, and i was on a call and the lady was piiiisssseed

me: cuz she could hear them?

Steph: yep
sounds like your business is having fun today while I'm getting collection calls from you people for a unit i no longer rent
'a;sldkfj;asdklj;asdf

me: well maybe you wouldn't get collection calls for a unit that got auctioned off if you woulda paid your bill

Steph: on snack

me: i probably woulda said that to her too but i woulda said it in a round about nicer way...so that i couldn't get in trouble, but so that she felt like a dumbass
i loved doing that to people...then she woulda hung up on me...and i woulda under my breath called her a fucking bitch after she hung or after i pushed mute Sent at 1:36 PM on Friday

Steph: ahh lynnette, i love how you think

And that is honestly what I would've done. What is wrong with singing happy birthday to someone? Is that really considered having a party? Seriously lady, do what I do when collectors call...don't answer.

Pretty people piss me off

2010-08-24T09:37:00.000-07:00

Well not just pretty people but pretty people who think their poo don't stank.

The girls who walk with their chest out, butt swangin and won't even smile when you pass them in the hall or they almost run into you because their nose is so far up in the air they didn't see you as they were leaving the bathroom...

Well today I'd like to thank the City of Plano Utilities Man for attempting to put one such Pretty Beyotch in her place.

I've lived in the DFW area now for going on eight years and I have been honked at, flipped off, enticed to rear-end someone and tailgated for some of my less than desirable driving techniques. I have also seen the same happen to others, but today was the first time I saw someone get out of their car to berate someone for their driving. Luckily it wasn't for my driving.

I try to refrain from acting out on any of my own road rage ie. excessive honking, flipping people off or yelling...mostly because in Texas there is a concealed weapons law and frankly you just never know who may be packin' and who will flip out and decide to pop a cap in my arse.

I was heading to work this morning on the frontage road of the Dallas North Tollway, at this particular intersection there are 5 lanes. The u-turn lane, one for only turning left on the inside lanes, one for turning left in the outside lane and going straight. The next lane is a straight only lane and then there is the straight or right turn lane.

The Beyotch (who I might add had her blinker on to turn left in a straight only lane), me and the Plano Utilities Man were in the left turn/straight lane and a bunch of other cars were all stopped at the stop light...light turns green and we all go. The Utilities Man and I are required to make a wide left turn, Beyotch is required to go straight...but her in her cutesy little Mazda decide to go left illegally and then proceed to honk and throw a hissy fit to Mr. Utilities Man who is making his wide left turn and almost hits little Miss Prissy Pants who doesn't know how to drive. She keeps trying to nose butt her little Mazda to weasel around him, finally he cuts her off and the nose butt battle stops with no damage or collision.

This is where it gets interesting...Mr. Utilities Man gets out of his truck (pretty ballsy if you ask me given as I stated before you never know who has had a bad morning and is packin heat), and walks toward Little Miss Beyotch and starts yelling at the little Miss Lindsey Lohan. I try to nonchalantly roll down my window to hear what is going on...

While he's telling her he's supposed to be in that lane and she was supposed to go straight, she's flingin it right back at him explaining she was in the wide turn lane and he was supposed to turn into the middle lane...

I wanted to yell out "Lady you weren't even in the turn lane, you're lucky you don't have Mack blazoned on your pretty lil ass for turning left in straight only lane." But I didn't for my fear of the pretty people...

She was still talking smack to her steering wheel as the utilities guy shook his head and walked back to his truck, her arms flailing away throwing a little tissy...

Kinda made my morning...kinda wanted to see some blood

Ya...it's been a while.

2010-01-20T08:43:00.000-08:00

I know, I know...I've been busy. I guess that's the best excuse I can come up with. The other might have to do with the fact that I had some really big news and frankly I was afraid I'd blab it on here and then the whole world would know before I even told like my family and friends.

But well now the cat is out of the bag and I feel comfortable enough to get back on here and do my weekly or maybe not so weekly purge of my ramblings.

So what's the big news you might ask? Or maybe not cuz you don't really care...well I'll tell ya anyway, the big news is....I'm pregnant. Yup, me. I'm going to be somebody's mom. So I thought maybe I'd share a few of the joys of being pregnant. Now I'm not going to hold back much, so you may not want to read this if you don't want to know too much about me.

1. Telling people you are pregnant. I absolutely hate telling people I am pregnant. Why? Because it's kinda like telling people you are having sex. I am married, have been for almost three years, but I don't like telling co-workers and casual acquantences that my husband and I concieved after a dissapointing Nebraska loss where I consumed like a bottle of wine and had about 4 shots of 100 proof peppermint schnapps. (Of course I go in to detail about the specifics of the day I most likely concieved, you asked me if we planning a child? No we weren't really "planning" to have drunk sex that specific Saturday afternoon, it just sorta happened that way...am I dissapointed? No, the sex was great, drunk sex usually is, well unless you are too drunk...then its just frustrating) Did I make you feel uncomfortable? Good now we are on the same page.

Another thing I hate about telling people I'm pregnant is that a lot of people automatically look to your stomach when you tell them this. Like I'm already self-conscience enough about my body image, I don't like people looking at me and trying gauge how far along I might be by how fat I am. Just ask already...to my face...you've already asked me if it was planned, why not keep asking intruisive questions...

Furthermore, I know most people don't know this is annoying, but for a hormonal pregnant person it is. Don't ask this question "So are you excited?" Like seriously, what kind of a question is that to ask? And what kind of an answer do you expect to get? I sometimes like to mess with people and say, "No" with no explanation just to see thier reaction. I don't know why but this is a very uncomfortable question to answer and it seems most people ask it. Of course I'm excited, just because I'm not bouncing up and down the walls and shouting from every rooftop that Mr. Vasey blasted some sperm inside me and fertilized one of my eggs in which I am now intrusted with carrying around inside of me for like 9 months, doesn't mean I'm not excited. Nervous is more like it. I mean ya it'll be great to have a kid, one whom will probably be the most strangest lil thing to walk the earth, considering the gene pool it is coming from, but am I excited to squirt a watermelon out of me? Um...no, not so much.

2. Morning sickness. Morning sickness my ass, try all day sickness. The asstard that gave it the name morning sickness can pretty much shove his ever loving head even further up his arse if you ask me. For eight straight weeks, I felt like a warmed over ass turd damn near all day long, couple that with working 60 hours a week, being tired all the time and having to make it through a grueling holiday season. Morning sickness, ya you can pretty much kiss my ass.

3. Backed up and roids. No one ever told me about this. No one ever mentioned that I wouldn't be able to "go" for 3 days. No one told me that when I did go that it would look like a rabbit snuck up my ass and left the droppings in the toilet, even though it literally felt like I laid a rabbit and not its little turds. No one ever told me that becuase of this I would get hemmroids which would cause pooping out these little turds even more painful. And that's just the begining, it goes from little rabbit turds to ... well lets just say I never thought I would say this to my husband "Well that's the first time in about 2 weeks I didn't clog up the toilet."

"Gross," he says. "Why don't you do a courtesy flush?"

"Well you can't when its one piece." (ya I know)

I'm sorry there are no pictures with this post I thought it might be too graphic with the subject matter.

I'm sure someday Squirt (that's what we are naming him/her for now) will be proud of me...for enduring so much to bring him/her to life. And Mr. Vasey as well, as he has had to put up with me for the last 19 weeks and were are only almost half way there...

Me and Mr. Vasey on the alleged day of conception (or there abouts)

And just when you think I over-exaggerate...

2009-12-13T18:42:00.000-08:00

This...

Is not a repeat picture. From a previous post.

Nope...

I took these about 15 minutes ago.

The bottle man strikes again.

So I'm not leaving my desk today

2009-11-12T07:10:00.000-08:00

So I'm just sitting here working away on one of my reports, when I feel the need to stretch. I roll out, lean back and and let loose with a long ol' stretch...ahhhhhh feels good.

Then I look down, to readjust the pants, when I notice what looks to be (well I won't say what it looks to be, but more of what I know it to be, but others may percieve it as something entirely different) a bunch of doggie snot slash slobber spots on my black dress pants. Which hey...it happens right.

Thing is one of my doggies has this thing, we call him the nudger. Cuz well he likes to nudge your junk. Boy, girl, young, old, it doesn't really matter, he gets his nose right up in there and well...nudges. A tad embarrassing for his owners. But you know everyone has thier little quirks...it's just one of his.

So needless to say, I have a bunch of slobber slash doggie booger stains on the front crotch area of my pants...and I probably won't be leaving my cube at all today.

Well except to leave of course.

It's ok if you steal a car, if it's from a zombie...

2009-10-24T16:59:00.000-07:00

Mr. Vasey and I were given these totally cool watches.

Kinda like magical watches, they would do anything we wanted. But they kinda looked like those calculator watches from my childhood.

Well, we took these watches and decided to get some food....at a strip club. I guess they were having one of those all you can eat buffet's. Once we got to the strip club, this is where all hell breaks loose. Someone had gotten infected with, not the H1N1, but with zombie. So I had to use my super special watch to kill a few of the bastards, Mr. Vasey got some too, then we high tailed it outta there.

There was one more bad guy zombie stalking the front door, (as though there is such a thing of a good guy zombie) trying to catch unassuming innocents coming or going, Mr. Vasey got him. Then we were about to get into our car, when we spied a Viper. I thought to myself "Why should I take my crappy car when I can take this car." Told my watch to unlock the door. I tried the handle and it opened.

I looked back and there was a zombie making his way towards us, I don't know maybe it was his car, but he was in no condition to be driving, so I got behind the wheel. Told my trusty watch to start the car, and the engine came to life. Then I pulled away.

I felt pretty good stealing the car since, I figured the owner would be, if they weren't already turned into a zombie, they would be soon.

Mr. Vasey and I then drove off into the sunset.

Then I must've rolled over and someone thought I was awake, cuz then there was the distinct smell of doggie breath....

Going home

2009-09-30T06:17:00.001-07:00

So it has been almost a month since Mr. Vasey, Flaire, Steamers and I returned from our very quick trip back to "The Good Life" ... back to Nebraska.

There are some things that I really miss about my hometown, and about Nebraska in general.

First and foremost there is Runza....

Oh how I love me some Runza

There really is nothing like a Swiss Mushroom Runza with Runza fries and everything dipped in a little tub o' Runza Ranch. Runza seriously has the best freaking Ranch in the entire world. It's a little bit like heaven on earth, I'm sure, actually no I'm positive it's heaven on earth. My mouth is watering just thinking about it....oh Runza how I miss thee.

If you have never had a Runza sandwich, then you need to go to Nebraska and have one. It truly is something that everyone should experience. I won't even go into details about how wonderful a Runza sandwich is becuase honestly I don't think you can handle it. Lets just say that it really should be considered one of the great wonders of the world. Those triangles out in the desert have got nothing on a Swiss Mushroom Runza...nothing.

The second thing about my home town that I especially enjoy is the purple house. It's somewhat of a landmark there.

"Where do you live?" one might say..."Oh just turn left at the purple house...."

Or someone lost, needing directions, "How do you get to the high school?" and once again..."Just turn at the purple house and it's a block down on the left."

We don't know street names, just landmarks...and the purple house is one of the best landmarks in town.

She is a majestic beast...a little weathered with time. But there is nothing cooler than having a purple house in your hometown. Especially a purple house with turquois trim, a psychadelic privacy fence and 2 Dish Network satellites in the front yard....

This is the street I grew up on, the same street that I was declared the street tennis champion, even though I've never really played real tennis. The street I ran across every day, without looking both ways, to get to my best friends house. The street I skinned my knee on learning to ride a bike. I ruled this street...

Ya I know, its really not much of a street.

I also took Mr. Vasey down to the crick. (It's crick not creek in these here parts) There was something I really wanted him to see.

This is the same crick that a few of us would tube down in the summers. When the water was high enough, all these rocks created "rapids" and gave us our thrill. This kind of tubing is not tubing for wussies. Many a teenager, myself included, usually came away with a few abrasions due to slipping off said tube, falling on said rocks and getting pushed downstream. But none of us died, none of us needed rescued...all in good fun. No one got their eyes poked out either.

So I made Mr. Vasey take a little walk with me, while I told him a story about the mystery of the Medicine Creek...

The old folks say that a terrible thing happened here about 70 odd years ago... a bunch of teenagers were down here at the crick 'parking' (if ya know what I mean) when the great earthquake of 1950 happened, I believe it was a 9.0 on the ol Richter Scale, and the earth just crumbled beneath them all and launched them straight into the water... They all perished, under her mighty current, they were helpless. The townspeople left the cars in the exact spot where they fell in. They were too devasted, losing so many young people, and also in rememberance of what happened that terrible night. They also used the wreckage as a lesson to the younger generation, to keep their hands to themselves....

No one is sure how many lost their lives that fateful evening. Some say 50 others say 100.

But legend has it, if you go down to the Medicine late at night you can hear their screams and water splashing as they gulp for air and fight for their lives...

Just kiddin', that's not really what happened...but the truth isn't nearly as exciting. Apparently these cars are there simply to stop or slow down erosion. To make sure the banks of the Medicine Creek don't wear away too much and take over the golf course, which is on the other side. See wasn't my story way better?

After our exhausting hike through the wilderness on the banks of the Medicine Creek, I thought I'd capture the tranquility of our downtown. On a Saturday afternoon, most businesses are closed, which allowed me to have my pick of parking spaces.

I really wish I could've seen Stan the One Man Band....

The main reason for the trip though wasn't to go sightseeing. It was really to celebrate the union of a very special pair. The patriarchs of our family. The people who raised seven children out on a farm south of town, the grandparents to over 20, and great-grandparents to gosh...I really don't know...but it's a lot, more than 20. But they've been together for over 60 years, and still share the love they had as newlyweds back in 1949.

So with our bellies full of my Uncle Roger's prime rib and cheesy potatoes, and a red mustache from drinking too much red drink (Kool-Aid to those of you not as saavy as Mr. Vasey and I) we said good-bye to Nebraski. It was a good trip and of course we'll be back.

Although one other thing worth mentioning is this.

If you ever find yourself driving along Interstate 70 in Kansas, make sure you look to the north.

There are simply hundreds and miles of windmills, and we decided that they change direction with the wind as well, becuase we swore they were facing the other way on the way up to Nebraska.

And they are huge, I kinda wanted to get out and go stand by one but they were pretty far off the highway, and probably a lot further away than one realizes. Plus Mr. Vasey said "no". But they gave us enough tailwind to push us along, back home to Texas.

So there you have it, all the sights and sounds from the heartland. From Nebraska "The Good Life"

I'm not a hick...I'm correct

2009-09-10T06:20:00.000-07:00

So I'm back from my big, bad, fly-by-the-night trip to the heartland, to "The Good Life", that's right....Nebraska. (I'll have more on my trip later.)

I was talking to Spanks McDuders last night on the phone, we stayed at her casa in the sprawling metroplex of McCook. (pop. 7,994) She wasn't there for the weekend, she decided to take off to California to visit another friend of ours, so we had the run of the place. On the phone last night she asked me. "Um, so I come home, and my dictionary is out, left open to the 'L's' what's that all about?"

It took me a minute to remember, you see after spending the day with the family on Saturday, Mr. Vasey and I retired to the hacienda de Spanky with an 18 pack of Coors Light. I distinctly remember getting the dictionary out but I couldn't remember what we were looking up...

"The only L word that came to my head, that the two of you would be looking up was lesbian, but it was open to the 'lu' page."

Hmmmm still thinking....no we weren't looking up lesbian, pretty sure we both know what the meaning of that is..."Oh yes!" I told her. It all started coming back to me, "we got into a discussion about accents and how, I don't have an accent becuase I'm from the midwest," and he, Mr. Vasey that is, said that even though I'm from the midwest there are things that I say that are distinctly midwestern. Like how I put the word "right" in strange places in sentences, or I say "pop," and not soda or what the people round here call Coke, even if they want a Pepsi they say Coke (now tell me how intelligent that is?) and how I refer to lunch as lunch, supper as supper and dinner can be either or.

Mr. Vasey was brought up that dinner is always the evening meal. And brought up to believe that is correct way to refer to the evening meal. Referring to it as 'supper' is just country in his opinion.

It actually brings me back to a time when his mother called to ask me over for Christmas Dinner one time....the conversation went something like this.

"So I was wondering if you would like to join us for Christmas dinner?"

"Sure," I say. "Would that be dinner-lunch or dinner-supper?"

She, clearly confused by my question, responds. "Well, dinner-dinner."

Me, clearly confused by her response, had to ask again, "So...like dinner at night or like dinner at noon-time?"

"Well...dinner..." she says.

Finally we get it figured out, she meant dinner, the evening meal....

Well I have always been brought up that dinner was the big meal, or a fancy meal. Lunch is just lunch, you have a samich or maybe a burger or something, but if you have a roast for the noon meal, where the whole family sits down and eats, that's a dinner.

For instance, after mass on Sunday we would have a Sunday dinner, a roast or some other hearty meal, and for supper on those days we would have popcorn and milk...num num...

But there would be occasions where the big, sit down meal would be the evening meal, so instead of it just being a supper of goulash or spaghetti, we would have pork chops, mashed potatoes and gravy or something, that again is a dinner.

Just to be clear breakfast is always breakfast as the morning meal, that is unless its brunch.

So that's the way I've always referred to dinner, the big meal, the sit down meal. And Mr. Vasey thought I was wrong. So we looked it up in the dictionary. And just so that everyone else can be clear. Here are the definitions we found.

Lunch: a light midday meal between breakfast and dinner; luncheon.

Supper: the evening meal, often the principal meal of the day.

Dinner: the main meal of the day, eaten in the evening or at midday.

So there. Never doubt a midwesterner when it comes to issues of speech...

Take that "ya'll" I'm fixin ta open a can o woop ass up in herra.

Water bottles and rearranging furniture...

2009-08-29T16:36:00.000-07:00

Mr. Vasey really likes water.
He tells me he drinks water all day...

He take a couple of sips before he goes to bed. He also drinks water at night. Sometimes he'll wake up in the middle of the night and grab a few gulps before he goes pee pee...and in the morning before he gets ready for work...

...He'll grab a few more...

Mr. Vasey also likes to rearrange furniture. But unfortunately the only room left do to much rearranging to is our bedroom...

So we we're once again rearranging the bedroom to make room for a free desk we got off of someone he works with...

This is what we found.

For lack of being more eloquent...we found a shit ton of water bottles under the bed.

"Thankfully," he said, "I just threw a bunch away a few weeks ago too..." Well thank God for small miracles.

Totally Ticked me off 2names....

2009-08-17T21:15:00.000-07:00

Alright I have to come out with it already. I’m blazing pissed. Just a little bit…

2names (my dear ol college friend) went to the Blink 182 concert with her younger brother on Sunday night. Monday morning she called me on her way into work as she normally does. I ask her about the concert and what’s the first thing outta her mouth?

“Is Mark gay?”

I’m like “What? Who?”

“Mark, from Blink is he gay?”

“Uh no…where did you hear such a thing?”

“My brother told me that he came out a few years ago, that he is gay,” she says.

“Well I haven’t heard that, and I’m pretty sure I would’ve … I wonder if his wife and kid knows that he’s gay?”

“Well I looked it up on the internet and I saw some stuff that corroborated his statement.”

“Whatever,” is what I’m thinking in my head. First of all, I would know if he was gay. And secondly, don't believe everything you see or hear on the internets.

Now let me set the record straight, it doesn’t really matter if he is gay, well except that he’s been a bit of a crush of mine for well going on 12 years so even though I’m happily married and supposedly he is too, him being gay pretty much totally takes him out of contention, you know ... for my list, you know of famous people I would bang, if you know ... given the chance to bang a famous person your spouse can’t be mad, you know ... if we were ever to meet in a smoky bar or a burrito joint out in San Diego, where he goes to just get a few bean burritos in between writing love songs about some Midwestern girl, (its not as though I've thought at all about how the opportunity might present itself) but beyond that, him being gay is just a bit of a let down … in the hopes of the banging department. I mean I can't take him off the list. Who would I replace him with?

But anyway, he isn’t gay, he is still married … to a woman.

But not only did she try to dash my hopes of the whole bangin’ Mark someday, she also pretty much said that Blink sucks…seriously what is this woman trying to do to me at 7 a.m. on a Monday morning, has she completely lost her ever lovin mind?

“I wasn’t really that impressed,” she’s like. “I’m kinda glad I didn’t spend my own money on the ticket.”

Hmmm, really? I’m thinking “how can she say that?” Does she not remember who she is talking to? Does she not recall the 30 minute video I personally made and sent to MTV to get a chance at being a Blink 182 Fanatic? Does she not remember the people from MTV contacting me and telling me that I was one of three finalists for the first ever live Fanatic Show? Does she not remember my 30 secs of fame on MTV? Or the hoops I and a friend had to jump through to get me to my first Blink 182 concert because she was being a bitch and left me. (there is a drama filled back story to her leaving me, might have to do with me and two others up and moving out on Niner but that’s beside the point). I own every CD damn near, I have 2 of their video releases, got the book, I follow them on Twitter, I wore black and pink on the day it was announced they were going on a hiatus, also on the day that Mark got married (that day was also a day I deemed for mourning) and I’ve been to their shows at least 3 times and she has the nerve to tell me it basically sucked.

“Ya, if you don’t have a lot of money to spend, I wouldn’t get a ticket when they come to Dallas,” she says. “I mean I don’t remember Tom being so whiney when he sings. And the dick jokes got a little old. I mean I laughed at some of them, but I don’t know….I was just more impressed with the Greenday concert I guess.”

Um…hate to break it to ya 2names but that is how they roll. Tom is whiney, always has been always will be, some nights its worse than others, but its something I’m able to overlook. Dick jokes? What did you expect? This is Blink 182 their adolescent humor is part of their charm for me. I get a kick out of it. But then again I am the 13 year-old boy stuck inside the body of a 30-something woman.

She did try to smooth things over and say it might also have had to do with the venue as to why she didn’t like it….again I say ‘whatever.’

I seriously don’t know who she thinks she is, bad mouthing my boys like that. She can no longer call herself a fan…We should give her a good ol fashioned flogging or something. She obviously doesn’t deserve the right to enjoy a Blink show, and should be punished for such blasphemous remarks. Don't let that smiling face fool ya, this woman is pure evil.

Sound advice....

2009-08-11T09:04:00.000-07:00

And I've always believed its good sometimes to go ahead and laugh at yourself every once in a while. Shoot if I didn't laugh at my own jokes sometimes, no one would.

I don't know if I've ever mentioned how much I love popcorn. But I do. I truly do. I'm pretty sure I ate this piece, even though it was almost shoved up my nose.

Have a good day everyone.

Three Wishes…

2009-07-30T21:12:00.000-07:00

I keep this far off fantasy in my head that some day I’m going to be walking down the street or maybe I’ll be hiking on some out of the way trail, searching for mushrooms or maybe a long lost cave, and I’ll stumble across a leprechaun or a treasure chest with genie in a bottle (gonna rub you the right way….sorry) will be among the treasure I find. I mean don’t people stumble across leprechaun’s and genie’s on a fairly frequent basis, I don’t think this is such a crazy kind of pie in the sky

If I were lucky enough to come across such a stupendous find, and were indeed granted three magical wishes, I’ve often thought, long and hard about what those three wishes would be. Of course I would first try to wish for more wishes, but I’m thinking my genie or leprechaun will have a stipulation on that. So in that case, I would have 3 wishes and solely three wishes.

Wish Numero Uno

My first wish is not for money alone, I mean I guess I could just wish for like a 100 billion dollars, but I don’t want to just be rich, I want to be rich and legendary. I want to leave a legacy.

So my first wish would be that I would be granted the talent to write an innumerable amount of bestselling books. That way, I kinda get two wishes taken care of, to be an author and be rich. And being a writer, I get to leave something behind, something to forever be remembered, till the end of eternity if you will. (Yes these books will be that good, not to be blasphemous, but they’ll be better and more read than the Bible)

Plus, being a bestselling author, I’ll earn the money to get all the material stuff, like my ranch in Montana, my beach house in the Hamptons, my villa in Italy, and my cabin at Harry Strunk Lake. Oh and of course I’ll have Dubai build me an island and I’ll put a house out there as well.

And really one needs more than just a crap ton of money, I think I would get bored if I didn’t have anything to do, plus I’ve always wanted to be stopped on the street and asked to sign an autograph. See as an author one could be obscure enough as to not draw the paparazzi, but one might stumble across an unassuming fan one day at the grocery store.

My second wish

I’m torn on this, on the one hand I feel like I should share the wish, like I should wish for something like world peace, the end to world hunger, make education available to everyone. So I figure why not make me, the Supreme Leader of the World. I could accomplish all those things and there would somehow be a way to brainwash everyone so I wouldn’t have any dissenters or something.

This also will help Chauncy (doesn't he look like someone that should be taking over the world?) and I accomplish the goal we’ve had for a long time to take over the world. We sort of think of ourselves as the smartest people ever and clever as well, so we thought that at some point we’d just take over the world and place our dogs and friends in high ranking positions. I mean we really couldn’t do much worse than the current numbskulls attempting to lead various countries. I mean come on if Ahmananmanamanjad a Dabba Dabba Doo, can do it I think I can.

And my final wish

My last wish is completely selfish and totally unnecessary.

I absolutely loath Angelina Jolie, I hate her skelator body, her big ass lips, her stupid tattoos, she really isn’t that great of an actress, and more importantly I hate that she broke up Jen and Brad. I’m no dummy, I know it was her fault.

So I thought that I would take this anger towards her and I would just start adopting children from third world countries, while at the same time procreating with Mr. Vasey, to have my own. We’d basically create our own little army, then go and beat the crap out of her. (that would just be a bonus perk) And I would do it, you know ... just because I can.

I would snatch up all the children so that she, and while we are at it Madonna too, wouldn’t be able to. Why do I want to do this? I don’t know, I kinda couldn’t think of anything else I wanted, guess my imagination isn’t so great after all….

What are your 3 wishes?

114 South Lincoln Street

2009-07-23T20:59:00.000-07:00

The house at 114 South Lincoln Street in Wayne America holds a lot of memories.

This was the house I lived in my senior year of college. It was pretty rough living there, what with the rent being an astronomical $42.50 month (Well $85 total since I had a roommate). I'm not really sure what this says about Niner (my roomie) and I...but on more than one occassion we were unable to pay said rent, as we were broke. Both of us had jobs and still had trouble coming up with $42 a month to pay rent. Luckily our landlords were cool...

This house was the house that 'you had to know someone' to live there. And how I came to live there, well that's another long story. But for this blog post I just wanted to talk about the granduer of this beautiful home.

Pull Switches

The house was pretty darn old. It was at least 80 years old when I was living there, as Niner and I pulled up the 'tile' in one of the upstairs bedrooms and there were newspapers under the tile dated back to the 1920's. And so I'm guessing at some point electricity was added to this house somewhat as an after thought.

The only actual light switches in this house were for the porch light and for the front living room. The rest of the house was pull string switches. I'm a wuss when it comes to being in the dark, so I would have the light on in the living room, then have to walk to the kitchen, pull string light, then back to the living room, shut off that light, then up the stairs, pull string light, then back to the kitchen, shut off pull string light, then into Niner's room, pull string light, back to the stairs, shut off pull string light, then to my room, pull string light, back to Niner's room, pull string light, then finally to my bed.

Yes I know I could've walked in the dark, or just skipped a few of those lights, but my room was dark and Niners room was messy and I had to walk through her room to get to my room and god only knows what I'd step on walking blindly through her darkened room. Plus if I couldn't find the pull string in the dark, I would get panicked and start frantically swinging my arm in the air like a blind mad woman searching for the pull string. And it seems the drunker I was the more vivid my imagination would turn my clothes strewn about my floor into, snakes, gators or goblins inching thier way closer to nip at my toes. It just wasn't good for my heart.

The bathroom

The toilet in this house was also apparently an after thought. It was built under the stairs, again fashioned with a pull string light. The coolest thing about this bathroom was the bear claw bathtub, the most uncool thing about this bathroom was its lacking of plumbing, in which case I mean, it lacked a sink. So after using said toilet, one must either wash up in the tub, or in the kitchen. Which is where the only sink in the whole house was located.

But something really cool was waking up on a nice spring day, going down to the john only to find a nice little mushroom had grown out of the base of the toilet where the actual toilet met the floor. Really was a great way to bring the outdoors in...

Additionally, since there was only a bathtub in this residence, this also became the decline of my cleanliness. It was just such a pain in the arse to bath everyday. When you wake up 15 mins before class is supposed to start, and go from classes to work to home again, by the time you walk in the door at 9 p.m. taking a bath is the last thing on your mind.... no more like 'hey where's E-Z E? (E-Z E was our beer bong) and whose place we at tonight?' was more the way our minds went. Plus we had a theory about cleanliness. "Cleanliness is next to Godliness" so for some odd reason, when we went out after getting all gussied up, no one would hit on us, but if we went out after not bathing for a week, the guys were abound....Thinking back now, it grosses me out somewhat, kinda makes me think "what kinda scent were we putting off?"

The bedrooms

The bedrooms (bedrooms being a term I use very loosely here) were connected. As I stated before, I had to walk through Niner's room to get to my room. She had the only closet, I had a makeshift rod just sorta hangin on the wall. I was able to utilize about 10 percent of the rod, as the other 90 percent was being used by someone elses clothes. Whose clothes? I have no idea, apparently the landlord's son (who used to live there but was in the army or something) I don't know I didn't ask questions. You tend to not raise much of a stink over such trivial things when your only paying $42/month for rent.) There was also a dresser that didn't belong to me filled with someone elses clothes. Really the only thing in the room that was actually mine was a fan, my clothes (which were mostly on the floor)and a crate that I set my clock on. The bed wasn't even mine. Which also thinking back kinda grosses me out, cuz who knows how many people actually used that bed. Well I guess I'm still alive, so it couldn't have been too bad.

Gas heater, toilet explosion and learning a life lessons

So the house had just one gas heater located in what I guess you would call the dining room. It was supposed to heat the whole house. Though heating an 80 year old home when the temp outside is 15 below freezing and the wind chill factor was 30 below freezing doesn't really do a whole lot. One Christmas break, Niner and I both left for about a week to go home, and the pipes busted. We came home to a black soot explosion in our bathroom. Sewage everywhere. It was disgusting and had been siting there for god knows how long. Lesson #1, don't turn the heat completely off when leaving on break, cuz yo pipes will break.

So with this heater, lets just say our heating bills were high. And since our rent was so expensive we went a few months without paying the bill. Though in climates such as ours in Northeastern Nebraska, we found out that they won't turn your gas off for not paying your bill. We were quite pleased with this. So we continued to keep our house all toasty and warm. This is where lesson #2 comes into play...Then came March, and in March in Nebraska, ol Mother Nature can sometimes surprise you with a nice warm day, or maybe even a few nice warm days, like 3 in a row...the 3 in a row being the operative phrase. Yes apparently the gas company isn't allowed to shut off your gas unless you have 3 days of temps above a certain temp. And we had apparently reached that threshold, as I came home one day to discover no more heat. And furthermore a $500 gas bill for not paying for like 3 months. Well it was March, almost April...I was moving in May....we'd be ok...hmmmm not so much.

Nebraska is quite notorious for teasing it's residents with an early spring only to be side-swiped by an April blizzard or freezing rain. We knew this and we didn't care, when the temps dropped, we just bundled up to watch TV, sipped cocoa spiked with peppermint schnapps, I signed on for a few extra overnights at my job, we made it through, we're midwestern girls, takes a lot to bring us down.

And leaving

I moved out that May, after graduation, though I didn't walk, they probably wanted me to pay my parking tickets or something, in order to walk across the stage. I was taking a stance, I thought it was BS that I had to pay $30/year to park on campus, so I just reused parking tickets I got previously, placed them on my car and went to class, this worked for a while but after some time, the campus cops got wise to my game, and started issuing me tickets again. I ended up having to pay those tickets to to get my diploma, my mother was begining to get suspicious that I didn't even graduate since I didn't have a diploma to prove that I did. And yes I realize it would've been cheaper to just buy a damn sticker, hmmm maybe I actually learned three lessons living in that house.

So that spring after classes were done I left Wayne America and the house on 114 South Lincoln. I left my cat Doogie with Niner, I left my area rug, my futon, my chair...everything that didn't fit in my Cavelier and went home. Off to join the Navy...or so I thought. Who knew then that a few months later a couple of planes would crash into some buildings and send everything into a tailspin...

I could've found out who killed JonBenet

2009-07-13T21:47:00.000-07:00

My part-time job is a phone gig. I answer the roll-over calls for approximately 500 self-storage facilities throughout the United States, Canada and Puerto Rico. And anyone who has ever worked a phone gig knows, there are plenty of crazies out there.

Me: Thank-you for choosing Medical Center Self Storage, my name is Lynnette, are you looking to rent storage?

Crazy Lady: No, I'm calling to get the documents relating to the Jon Benet Ramsey trial.

Me: Um...excuse me?

Crazy Lady: I need to get the documents on Jon Benet Ramsey.

Me: I'm sorry ma'am you do know you are calling a self storage facility right?

Crazy Lady: I was told to call and I could get the trial documents for the Jon Benet Ramsey trial.

Me: Well, I don't have any information regarding that, the manager may know what it is you need, I could forward a message over to them and have them call you back tomorrow.

Crazy Lady: Could you mail the documents?

Me: No, I don't have any documents that I can mail you, I will have to have the manager give you a call back to see it they can help you. What is your first name.

Crazy Lady: Doctor Misty

Me: Your first name is Doctor?

Crazy Lady: No M-i-s-t-y and my last name is Dunlap, D-u-n-l-a-p. (I don't know where the doctor came from but I swear she referred to herself as a doctor, a doctor of what you got me, maybe doctor crazy)

Me: Ok ma'am I'll forward your message over and have the manager give you a call back tomorrow.

Then about 30 minutes later, I get another call coming in from the same property.

Me: Thank-you for choosing ... Blah blah blah... (low and behold its the crazy lady again.)

Crazy Lady: Hi, I just wanted to let you know that I gave it all to Jesus.

Me: I'm sorry, what?

Crazy Lady: Yes this is Doctor Misty and I took all the information I had on Jon Benet Ramsey and gave it all to Jesus.

Me: Um...Ok...

Crazy Lady: I know who killed Jon Benet, and I am contacting all the witnesses.

Me:(big pause here on my end... I mean what does one say to this? I thought of asking her if she went to the police with this information but I thought better of it. Instead I just said...) I'm sorry ma'am I don't know what you are talking about. I don't understand what you want me to do, this is a self storage facility.

Crazy lady: Oh you don't know what I'm talking about, well that's just fine then. That's ok, I'll just give it to Jesus then.

Me: Ok, is there anything else I can help you with? (we are supposed to ask this at the end of every call and sometimes in situations like this when I could not ask it, I like to do it anyway to see if I can antagonzie the caller, its a fun little game I like to play to amuse myself)

Crazy Lady: No, I will just contact the witnesses myself. Because I know who killed Jon Benet.

Me: Ok well thank-you for calling and you have a good night.

This is a little late, but still worth mentioning...

2009-07-10T19:24:00.000-07:00

So Spanks McDudals came for a visit over the Fourth.

She brought her lil buddy with her.

This is Jackson, or Jack for short. I like to take pictures of sleeping doggies.

She apparently had quite the trip. On her way up, whilst jammin to some MJ, you know ... windows down, music up, that's the way she likes to ... drive.

Well anyway, while driving with said windows down, and the MJ up, she came upon a cattle truck. You know a semi filled with cattle, with the holes on the side ... well call it perfect timing or right place, wrong time. She got a little manure slung on her.

To know Spanky is to know that these sort of happenings are sort of par for the course for her. Whether she is putting her shirt on inside out, sitting on a pen and getting an ink spot on her arse or driving by a manure truck and coming away with a bit of pre fertilizer on herself...

We went to a fireworks show.

I learned that it is very hard to take pictures of fireworks.

I also got to see my very first professional baseball game. And I must say I was entertained. I think we had more fun annoying the people who were not as fortunate to be seated by us, but I do believe we won, and we also got to see Texas Stadium from afar.

That thing is a beast.

We had a large group, we pretty much took up the whole row. Which is nice, you don't feel so bad walking over people you know to relieve yourself or go get more food.

They also had a fireworks show after the game. We watched it from the parking lot. We should've left. Note to anyone going out that direction to see a game or a concert...traffic is a bitch.

The next day started off with us just laying around the house. Mostly just Spanky and the boys. (Scuse Steamers balls, he's not very shy)

We did make it down to Oaklawn that day.

And the highlight of the trip seemed to be finding this grab machine thingy. Both Spanky and Mr. Vasey made away with prizes.

I mostly just sat back and watched.

What can I say, we had a pretty good time.

Too bad her trip home wasn't quite as great.

Pound Puppies

2009-07-09T18:26:00.000-07:00

Saturday morning TV just isn't the same anymore.

I remember when the Smurfs were on, with Gargamel on the constant pursuit of the little elusive blue creatures, of Papa Smurf and his squirrelly brood.

I also remember watching the Transformers and I remember falling in love with the Pound Puppies. They also sold them in stores, the Pound Puppies, and you could adopt one, name it, it came in this little box that kinda resembled a doggie house, they were so cute. I wanted one, didn't get one, but Treebee did...she got everything I wanted, I was such an abused middle child.

But back to the Pound Puppies....

These are our Pound Puppies.

This one is Steamboate. (He's English)

And this is Flaire Bear.

We've had Flaire for a little over a year. He's a pretty good boy. Likes to play a little rough, so he ain't no wussy man's dog.

He'd been at the pound for about 3 months, his days were counted. Not to mention he, by all accounts is a Pit Bull, he was probably on his way to the death chamber in a few days. As a matter of fact the day we got him, Mr. Vasey actually got to the animal shelter past the time when they allow people back to view the dogs, but when he said he was there to see our lil Flaire, they gladly let him back to see if he would be a good fit for us.

And Steamers was a rescue dog. He was born to a mommy doggie who was in the rescue and so they kept the puppies and tried to find them furever homes as well. Steamers was the last of the litter, just him and one other male, they'd been there a while past their brothers and sisters, which I can't understand why, he's about the most loveable little guy. My only complaint is he likes to wake me up at the butt crack of dawn. But it's hard to say no to these faces.

Which brings me to my point.

I read this story today, it was linked to CNN.com and I also came accross this story from a communitybulletin board I read, this isn't something new. In my former life as a community newspaper reporter, at least 2-3 times a month a press release from the SPCA of Texas would come accross my desk all telling the same tale. Between the dog fighting and puppie mills hundreds of dogs siezed. All bred and overbred just so some redneck scum can make a few bucks.

People buying puppies keeps these kinds of lowlifes in business. They are just as bad as those that breed them for fighting, an illegal money making business. As are puppy mills, or should be in my opinion. And the people that buy these puppies are really no better than those that sit ringside at a dog fight, they are keeping an illegal business, in business.

Thousands upon thousands of pure bred animals are in need of homes. It makes me sick to think of the thousands of other dogs that are bred under questionable conditions, treated appallingly and infested with a host of illnesses, and people would rather get that, then a dog that's probably already lived in a home, is already potty trained and will love you furever, but instead will have suffer a death at the hands of an animal control officer because, they gave him his chance and they needed to make room for even more unwanted dogs.

Rescue groups are overrun with pure bred dogs, a simple search on-line and you can see, often they have to turn doggies away because they just can't seem to get rid of the ones they have fast enough to keep up with the ever growing pet population.

Now I understand, there are breeders out there and they are doing what they do for the betterment of the breed, and I'm ok with that, they have quite stringent conditions for homing their puppies and they don't over breed their momma's. But those kinds of breeders are few and far between. Real breeders don't advertise, they don't need to.

I don't say this to chastise those who have bought their pets from so called breeders. So don't be getting your panties in a wad, I say this for awareness, so that maybe next time you'll save one, who needs a furever home. And stop supporting the needless abuse of animals.

So the moral of the story, adopt. And in the words of the great Bob Barker, "Please help control the pet population, spay and neuter your pets." Because I know you think your pooch is the greatest thing since sliced cheese, but don't get your bitch pregnant so you can have a bunch of adorable puppies running around that look like your dog. Because 1. you can't keep them all 2. responsible pet owners don't breed for the hell of it.

Am I too old for this?

2009-07-02T14:44:00.001-07:00

Chauncy or #2 sent me this link today and I was like...hmm...what's this....I clicked on it, had me a good ol laugh. And thought I need to send this to all my friends, and then I thought....hmmm am I too old for this? www.thingsididlastnight.com I don't care.

It's really freaking hot, but that didn't stop us...

2009-06-27T17:19:00.000-07:00

We got busy today.

This is our pathetic patio.
About 2 weeks ago we used to have a crappy plastic patio set, with an umbrella. It worked for us, until one night I left the umbrella up, and some mysterious wind came up and blew over our umbrella, slung it to the ground. The tragic fall busted it beyond repair, taking with it the cheap ass plastic table, which frankly was on its last leg anyway....

In Texas, Texans and Texas residents transplanted from Nebraska enjoy their patios. While our previous patio wasn't much to shake a stick at, it got us by. Then the wind came and just swept it away.

So we decided we needed to do something.

Ta Da....Our first major home improvement project.

Took us approximately 5 hours in 100 degree heat, to dig holes, put dirt down, level out the ground, and two trips to Lowe's later, we now have a comfortable place to relax, grill and entertain. And I'm not even kidding when I say I lost 5 lbs. today. I literally sweated my arse off. Don't worry, we had fajitas for dinner and I'm drinking a glass of wine now, it'll all be back tomorrow,

We'd like to do the other side, but I think I might need a month or so to recoup.

Shamona Hee Hee....

2009-06-26T06:07:00.001-07:00

Michael Jackson 1958 - 2009

King Of Pop

Here is what I say we should do...

I say we talk about the man and what he did, his accomplishments, his gift.

He really was a genius. He revolutionized music. He was the ultimate performer. I can't imagine there being people out there that don't have a favorite Michael Jackson song. I in fact have a few. Billie Jean is probably on the top of the long list.

Instead, let's all do the Moon Walk once or twice in our living rooms, crank "Beat It" so loud the neighbors want to call the cops, but they don't because, really ... everyone 'hearts' MJ.

While the body is dead, he created a legacy and will live on through his music and his children.

Before you start blasting a guy post mortem, let us also remember he was a brother, a son, a father and a friend. At the very least his loved ones are due that respect.

I still got it?

2009-06-20T19:30:00.000-07:00

I had to go to the Wal-Marts the other day for dog food, eyeliner... just the necessities. I ended up perusing around the clothing department...it's next to the card department, and there were a couple of guys causing a ruckus looking for a father's day card or something. They were dressed in fatigues, not for fashion but more for occupation, and normally a man in uniform will turn my head, but well...I"m sure they were nice guys but nothing to write home about.

They were finally able to get the attention of a Wal-Mart associate to aid them in their quest for the perfect card, apparently they couldn't find anything but birthday cards, when the big one, the obnoxious one eyed me.

"Hey, how ya doin?" He yells from 30 feet away, I raise my head and nod and probably said fine, when he seems to think it appropriate to announce to me that he is available. "I'm single ya know." I smile and say, "Really? Wow, what a surprise."

I left after that, had enough of the Wal-Marts for the day, making a mental note to file that encounter away to tell Mr. Vasey or Spanky about later.

Fast forward a day, when I finally get around to telling Mr. Vasey that I sorta got hit on at the Wal-Marts, which considering the person that sorta hit on me, I really shouldn't be telling people about the sort of people that I attract, but I guess I have no shame.

So I tell him the story and his response is, "Boy, what is it about you and picking up guys at Wal-Mart?" And this is something that I never even thought of....what is it about me and the Wal-Marts?

How a flat tire changed everything

I had just moved to the metro-plex back in 2003. I was working for free, living off of my last paycheck at my previous job and the money I got from my 401K, which wasn’t much, when I happened to get two flat tires in one week.

My cousin who lived nearby gave me directions to the most easily accessible Wal-Mart in the area, and the next day, with barely two pennies to scrape together, I went to the Wal-Marts fully intending to just have them patch up my holes and send me on my way.

I’m sitting in the waiting room at the Tire and Lube Express at the Wal-Marts, completely grunged out as I woke up late for my internship and didn’t have time to shower, I was wearing a pair of black, baggie, cargo-style pants, a blue striped beanie and I was sporting the whole longsleeved t-shirt underneath a short sleeved t-shirt. When one of the grease monkeys comes in and asks if I’m the owner of the Olds. I said I was and while still standing in the doorway he tells me that the tires are too worn and he won’t be able to patch them up, and if he does just patch them up I’ll be back in a few days with flat tires again. I tell him I really don’t have the money for new tires and I asked him to see if there was any way I could get outta there without having to buy new tires. He complies and goes back outside ... only to return a few minutes later.

He sits down this time, right beside me, I’m taken aback a bit as I am kind of a Nazi when it comes to my personal space and it being intruded upon by strangers. He again says that he wouldn’t be able to just patch them up, I needed new tires.

“Why is it everytime I come to Wal-Mart I always have to buy new tires, what do you get outta this?” I said.

He swore he didn’t get anything and that I really needed new tires, “And plus I couldn’t let a girl as cute as you drive out of here on those tires.”

I’m sure I blushed. Was this dude hitting on me? “Um...OK, I guess just do what you have to do.”
He tried to make me feel better, “Hey I’ll make it up to you, I’ll take ya out for dinner or something sometime.”

Hmmm, I guess he is hitting on me. Have I ever been hit on before? No usually I have to do the hitting, this is all very strange to me. “Uh...ya...Sure, OK" I say, but thinking "Ya I'm probably never going to see you again, grease monkey dude."

He leaves and after a few minutes, the manager calls my name to tell me that my car is ready, and as I’m up at the counter paying, the tire guy walks up to me again and says that he’s about to go to lunch, and if I wanted to go with him.

"Boy he likes to work fast" I think, and so I stand there a minute and think about this proposition…ok is he going to rape me in the middle of the day? Would I even enjoy going to lunch with a grease monkey? Is a grease monkey really my type? He said he was paying, and I didn’t have any friends here yet, so I ran all the possible senarios through my head and I decided to go with it and at the very least get a free lunch and at the worst I'd be found dead on the side of the road. But I'm more of a 'glass is 1/2 full' kind of gal.

He took me to Chili’s. We sat alone in the restaurant, since it was after the noon crowd had cleared out and I ordered as cheaply as I could, I think I had soup and we started talking about our interests and what not. I found out he liked movies and even had aspirations of making a movie or writing a screenplay one day. Which at the time was exactly what I was trying to do, my internship was with a video production house.

I kinda got a little creeped out, like how did he know that I was into those things? Was he just trying to impress me? I mean, he does work at the Wal-Marts…but I went with it. He was funny, easy to talk to and surprisingly enough we had a lot in common. As I was dropping him back off at the Wal-Marts we exchange numbers and he asks if we can maybe get together that evening?

I was giddy, my little tire problem turned into meeting a guy, who didn’t seem to have any interest in raping me, murdering me and dumping my remains by the side of the road. And I actually kinda sorta liked him. (tee hee) I had those stomach flutters going on, the proverbial butterflies. I was on cloud 9, I was smitten you know all the cliches...

He called me later that night and said that his best friend (Mr. Bywater) and fiance, (Mrs. Bywater), were in town and he wanted to know if I’d be interested in going out with them and have a few drinks at a local bar. After spending my first month in Dallas sitting alone in The Dorks house I jumped at the opportunity.

We met at his apartment, and all four of us went to a little dive bar named Chase Place. He kissed me that night and I must say... I kinda liked it. The beers were flowing and we were having fun, and I didn’t feel comfortable driving home after drinking, so he offered to let me stay at his place. There was no hanky panky, I woke up the next morning and we started discussing our future.

“I’m not really the type of girl to date around, I generally just date one person. So I guess if we were going to be seeing eachother, I probably wouldn’t be seeing anyone else.” Not to mention I didn’t exactly know anyone else that I’d be dating anyway, I knew three other people in this town and I was related to all of them.

“Well I don’t really date around either,” he said. “So um…I guess that means we are...like ‘going out’?”

“Sure, sounds good….but um…what is your last name?”

“Vasey,” he said.

My First Poem

2009-06-18T18:26:00.000-07:00

My mother has taught me,
many fine things.
Marry for money my dear,
love will come later.
But me, I feel marry for love
you can build your fortune together.

She once said "Men my dear,
are trolls from hell."
But why does something that
looks so good, have to be so wrong.

Some things my mother told me
she meant for me to hear.
She said never settle, for you
deserve nothing but the best.

She has tried to teach me well,
picked me up whenever I fell.
So for her I try to do no wrong,
cuz in my heart is where she'll belong.

-May 31, 1994

I was very insightful at 17 apparently

Voices

2009-06-17T11:01:00.000-07:00

It may have been in my head, or it may have been real. Regardless, I heard a woman's voice last night.

She seemed to be standing in my room, but I checked the living room anyway, just to be sure it wasn't the TV I heard. But the TV was turned down low, and Mr. Vasey was listening to heavy metal music.

Her voice was very distinct, very clear and frankly scared the crap outta me.

"If you follow, I will lead," and then I jumped and my heart started racing. Had I cut her off? Would she have said more? And what's more important, am I going crazy?

To rationalize this occurance, I took stock in the fact that I was reading a Stephen King novel, could have just been my imagination getting away from me. Could've been...or it could've been Mr. Vasey talking to the dogs, which he does from time to time...could've been...might have been a guitar riff from the crappy music he was listening too...ya it could've been.

I just know I heard something, and I kinda wish I didn't get so scared, maybe she'd have said more...and I wonder can a new house be haunted?

Multi-tasking...driving and sleeping

2009-06-16T07:01:00.000-07:00

I'm sure there are those that say, this can't be done. But unbeknownst to the naysayers I have devised a way to do just this very thing, sleep and drive.
Well what I really do is catch a tiny little cat nap on my 45 min commute to work. When my head starts bobbin and the Kia starts drifting into other lanes because of the head bobbin, I begin to embrace the opportunity to stop at a red light. I crack my window just a smidge, close my eyes and doze until the light turns green. How do I know when the light turns green? Since I was smart enough to crack my window I can hear the cars around me accelerating and so I too know it is time to go. I had to do this, this morning. I’m always on the look out for ways to do 2 things at once. Probably need to be real careful not to actually fall asleep, don’t want some pissed off Texas commuters on my arse. They can carry concealed weapons here…and they use them too.

Before I die

2009-06-12T06:45:00.000-07:00

Not that I expect to pass anytime soon, but someone asked, therefore I tell.

On a side note, I am kind of a blabber mouth. Don’t tell anyone, oh wait…I just did. Well sort of, I’m not holding any sort of grand delusions that everyone reads this crap, but they could if they wanted to.

Anyhoo, the top 10 things I want to do before I leave the land of the living and traverse to the world of the un-living, or to the world of the dead, the dead zone. Not that I think there is a place where there are a bunch of dead folks running around, it’s just a figure of speech. These are really in no particular order or nothing…

1. Learn to play guitar
2. Travel to Europe
3. Meet someone uber famous

(Ted Nugent and Randy Travis don’t count in my book)

Ted

Randy

4. Run in and finish a marathon
5. Write a book or at least publish what I have
6. Dip my toes in the Atlantic and the Pacific Ocean
7. Visit NY City and have one of those hotdogs from the hotdog stands in the street
8. Go to the Grand Canyon
9. Go camping in at least 5 national parks
10. Travel by car, van or RV across the U.S.

Why I hate being broke...

2009-06-11T12:55:00.001-07:00

This is going to be a list of all the things I can’t do because we don’t have any money.

1. First and foremost the worst part of being broke….I haven’t had my hairs on my head cut since December 20th 2008. I like to keep my hair short, prefer it to be short actually. And in the last month I have had no less than 10 people ask me if I am either A. trying to grow my hair out? Or B. if I’ve don’t something different with my hair? To which I answer A. Not on purpose and B. Ya it’s called nothing. (usually I fix my hair, but its at this crazy, strange inbetween stage that you can’t do anything with and it has too many split ends and uneven growth to even look good if I did attempt to ‘fix’ it.

2. Eat normal food. Our fridge and pantry are as barren as stretch of Nebraska highway at 3 a.m. (trust me, that’s pretty freakin barren) tonight’s menu includes Totino’s Pizza, last night was leftover slop nachos that Mr. Vasey put sweet gherkins in for seasoning to try to ‘spice it up’ a bit.

3. I am reduced to drinking coffee and water only. My body runs on a certain amount of caffeine and I maintain that balance by partaking in the drinking of no less than 2 Diet Mt. Dews in the afternoon, between lunch and when I end my day at my part-time job. I have on several occasions almost fallen asleep at the wheel, on death highway 75, traversing between my jobs.

4. I am out of eyeliner and am reduced to wearing mascara which I hate.

5. I am out of fingernail polish remover and therefore cannot wear open toed shoes because I haven’t been able to properly paint my tootsies.

6. I am dangerously close to being out of bubble bath, which means I may have to choose between food and soaking my day away in a tub full of bubbles.

7. I can’t buy tickets yet for the upcoming Blink 182 tour.

8. Filling up my gas tank becomes almost a strategy game. If I put just enough in it to get me by till such and such day, then I can buy some wine to drown my sorrows over the weekend.

9. And finally, there are just some days when you want a big greasy hamburger from Jack-in-the-Box. And driving by it everyday, smelling those oh so glorious smells just tearing at my stomach acid and making me want it even more, even when I know its bad for me, even when I know I shouldn’t, distance really does make the heart and taste buds grow stronger.

Interestingly enough, this is also a list of all the things I plan to do next week. After I get’s paid….money, money, money…

Copy and Paste

2009-06-11T11:03:00.001-07:00

My sister Treebee is not what one would call computer literate….at all.

This realization came as quite a surprise to me, as she grew up with the internets. Me? Not so much….I remember playing Oregon Trail on the old skool DOS, wasn’t even our DOS, it was our neighbors, I’d trek across the street and spend hours in their basement playing that game. This was probably my first clue how addicted I would soon become to playing video games.
It wasn’t until my senior year in high school that we even had computers with the internets on them, and hardly anyone had internet then, specially in my little scanty of a town. The first time I got on the internets was when a few friends and I were over at the Heitman’s house, they had the internets because they were rich, rich at least by our standards, a product of the Kool-Aid fortune. One would think with our first web surfing experience we would do something productive with our search…but no, we went to chat rooms. I was both fascinated and disgusted with what we found there, I was definitely too young to be chatting.

This digression has a point, it really does, what I’m trying to convey is that most of my formative years were spent internetless, while Treebee had access to all this throughout most of her high school experience. We both went to college, where the only time I spent on the ol computer was writing papers, or doing research for some project, as I’m sure the same was true for her. However, she has probably always had a computer in her home, she has had some of the same access to learn as I, and yet she still didn’t know how to copy and paste and switch from one program to another without closing out the first program to go to the next program and back again.

I got to witness this lack of knowledge first hand when I recently tried to help her with one of her speeches. This wife, mother of three and who happens to work full-time as a LPN (licensed practical nurse) is going back to school to become a full fledged RN (registered nurse). So she is going to send me her speech so that I can take a look at what she’s got so far and help her with some of her research, and so that I don’t repeat what she’s already done.

First she tries to send it to me as an attachment, but I have a Mac at home and I can’t open up her Works Doc., so I tell her, “Just copy and paste it into the body of the email and send it to me that way.”

“What?”

“Just…copy…and…paste…it…into…” I start to say before she interrupts me.

“I heard what you said, how do you do that?” Oh boy, here we go.

So I explain to her, “Ok, go to your speech document…”

“Wait how do I go back to it?”

“Um Treebee, go to your little “start” button at the bottom of the screen and go to your Works program and open it up like you normally do, or go to ‘recent documents’ either way should work,” I explain.

“Ok, but what about my email do I need to close it out?”

“No don’t close it out, just open your speech.”

“Ok, now what?”

I say “Push ‘ctrl’ A and then right click on your mouse and go to copy.”

“Ok?”

“Now go back to your email…”

“How do I get back to my email?”

Ugh...“At the bottom of your computer screen you’ll have some rectangle boxes one of them should be your email unless you closed it out.”

“Oh I see it,” she says. I decide not to take anything for granted at this point, seeing how she has no idear what she is doing...

“Ok now in your email compose a new message, put my email address in the ‘To’ and then go down to where you would normally write a message and right click and paste….and um Treebee…how is it you know nothing about computers? You grew up with this crap…”

“Ya, well I’m sorry, Lynnette," She says with that exageration on the 'Lynnette' so I know she's pissed. "I don’t sit in front of a computer all day like some people I know".

Hmmm point taken….she got an A on her speech.

Bring on the Thunder

2009-06-11T08:04:00.000-07:00

I love me some thunderstorms. And some pretty heavy storms moved through the DFW (Dallas-Fort Worth) area last night and this morning. Seemed like quite a party going on up there in the sky.
Sort of got me thinking about how when I was a kid and was scared of the thunder and lightning how my parents or maybe my older sister told me that the thunder was just the angels bowling and I should cheer when I hear a big one, because one of the angels just got a strike. I guess I don't recall what "they" told me the lightning was....but I remember watching some movie maybe Gremlins or it could've been ET or actually maybe it was Poltergiest or something, obviously I don't remember, but I do remember in the movie they explained how you can tell how far away the storm is by counting the seconds between when you see the lightning to when you hear the thunder. I would lay awake at night during the storms and count away, and wishing the storm away. As I was afraid of the dark as a kid, still am actually and storms just made it that much creepier to me. I began to appreciate the power of a thunderstorm and to respect it's might.

I used to stand out in the drive-way with my Dad, when a big storm was coming in and watch the clouds for any signs of a tornado. He taught me what to look for, what to be worried about, when to take cover and when everything would be O.K. I loved watching the stoms come in and I love storms now, probably because of my Dad, and I love weather also probably because of my Dad.

The Bull Fight

2009-06-06T12:48:00.000-07:00

Bull fighting to me, after seeing it, is inhumane. I'm glad I saw it, but I don't think I will ever go to one again.

Mr. Vasey and I went to Cancun for our 1st anniversary and saw, to our surprise, that Cancun put on a bull fight every Wednesday night, so we thought we'd go.

The first part of the event was somewhat like a fancy rodeo, this I can get on board with, pretty ladies on horsies, showing off their horsemanship around the ring.
There was, what appeared to be a dance off. The pastels against the jets...I guess.
And then more of the pastels came out and danced around this pole thing in order to tie these ribbons around it.

These guys showed off their roping and tricks. All fun and games until...
The bull came out. He was pretty pissed off, he ran into the wooden side rail chasing after someone and put a nice little chip in it.
The Matador worked him into a sweat, and every one screamed "ole". At this point I'm still o.k. with the whole thing. Then this guy came out.
Notice how the horse is all covered up with shielding, and his eyes are covered. I guess its so that he couldn't see what was coming.

The dude on the horse just stabs the bull with this pole thing and gets him to bleed. I guess the matador is out having margaritas with some senoritas while all this is happening...
But he comes back....
And now that the bull is losing blood from his back and neck, I guess the matador has a fighting chance.

The bull is extremely tired at this point, and the dude has an easy time taking him down. With the help of a few friends.
But alas he does finally fall. And then they have a party.
I don't know if you're wondering how do they get this 500 pound plus animal out of the arena, but I know I was. But that's ok they have a solution to that...
The just tie him up and drag him out, while more partying goes on.

I have no idea what happens to him after that, but they cut out the tongue evidently.

So we went to a bar near our hotel, this is after walking for 2 miles in a pair of heals to find a bus stop, and drowned our sorrows from watching something so brutal the first day of our vacation.
This is how I drown my sorrows.

We met up with some Canadian college students on their spring break and they went to the bull fight too, they had the same opinion of the brutality, but that didn't stop them from going and getting their picture taking with the dead bull. Crazy Canadians.

Memorial Day Festivities

2009-06-04T19:03:00.000-07:00

We were just going to stay home on Memorial Day, I had to work at the part-time job and I just didn't think I'd be up to actually leaving my hole I call my house.

But the Bywater's wouldn't hear of it...plus beers and Bar-B-Q on the patio isn't ever really a bad thing, specially on their patio...

We solved lots of the worlds problems, that's what we do...drink beer and cure the universe.

This is our Fireman, we like him. Specially us married ol women. We've decided, or at least I've decided I need to take a tour of his fire station, maybe right after they got done washing the Big Red Engine. And they are all wet and glistening in the afternoon sun.

This is Mrs. Bywater. She shares my appreciation for the finer things in life....namely firemen and potatoes...the women loves her potatoes. In all it's lovely forms.

Sue doesn't like to take photos, she always seems to find a way to screw it up.

Now Cavlin and Suzie, they are just so darn cute. She also shares my appreciation for the Fireman, and even Cavlin he'd be lying if he said the Fireman didn't do it for him too.

And well NicNic was a bit too enamored with this one to care about the Fireman, or anyone else....awwww new love. Is it just me or does it look like he's about to pull or grab a fast one there...hands off buddy. Her kid is right behind ya!

And then there were the rugrats. They love the Fireman too, but for completely different reasons. They like him because he gets to ride in the red truck and save grandma's from burning buildings.
They are planning something here... supposedly they are getting the monsters...which may or may not be Bell the boxer. She is definitely a holy terror sometimes.
Oh ya Bruno and Bell were there too of course...

A Basher?

2009-06-04T09:18:00.000-07:00

I got to wondering if I was racist or maybe a better word is a bigot or maybe just insensitive. I don’t know why I got to thinking this, but I often have these kinds of conversations with myself and so I thought I would express those thoughts, in a forum where, well … where darn near anyone can see them, but doesn’t.

I often use the word “gay” in my every day conversation, either with myself or on the off chance that I am actually speaking to someone other than myself. (Have I ever mentioned how often I talk to myself? Well I do it and I do it a lot, talk to myself that is. This blog actually is somewhat of a reflection as to what goes on inside my head, though I do sensor myself regularly) But I degress…

Lets just say I catch my husband watching Rachael Ray and I’ll say, “You’re so gay,” or “That’s so gay,” actually let me take that back, he would never watch Rachael Ray, because he hates her, but he will watch Bobby Flay, that Countessa chick and Iron Chef, and I think those shows are all gay. (I’m a poet and I didn’t even know it) I do this all the time, say this or that is gay. I call people gay, even when they aren’t or even when they are, I even call my obsession with America’s Next Top Model, a little gay ok it’s really, really gay.

Another example, A few months ago we were discussing getting a board game for when Spanky and #2 were here. My Hubby was asking me whether or not they would play board games, and I said, “Well Spanky will because she is gay like that, and #2, he will tolerate it if everyone else wants to play.” And the Hubs responded “Wow that’s an awful big generalization isn’t it?” (You see because Spanky really is a lesbian, as in, she really is gay.) And so then I had to clarify…. “No, no, no I didn’t mean she is a lesbian therefore she likes to play board games, no, it has nothing to do with her sexuality. I mean she is gay as in wearing plaid golf pants to a barbeque is gay.”

Additionally I’ll use the word “retarded” in the same way. And I mean no offense to those with handicaps. I have a very warm spot in my heart for people with developmental disabilities. I guess actually I don’t call people with handicaps retarded, I reserve that term specifically for those that cut me off in traffic, though its usually proceeded with an expletive, or when someone says something totally stupid I will throw the retard card out there.

And while I know I use these terms in the derogative, I don’t mean any harm or offense, though isn’t that what everyone says? I mean I crack jokes and make generalizations in reference to myself as well, but does that make it right or really all that wrong? Jokes about being corn fed, white trash, a porch monkey all sorts of things, because a part of me epitomizes all those things, and no one says anything when you are making fun of yourself or using a derogative in reference to yourself. Though I guess I could say that I am both gay and retarded because I do have the tendency of being a little on the slow side in reference to catching on to jokes or not knowing when someone is pulling a fast one on me. And additionally I am of the belief that almost everyone is a little gay and even people who say that they are gay are even a little straight. Don’t get me wrong there are those on the polar’s of the gay/straight scale, but more often than not, most people lie somewhere in the middle. Take me for example, on a scale of 1-7, one being very straight and 7 being very gay, I would say I was a 2 or a 3. I’m straight but definitely have some homosexual tendencies. So since I’m a little gay, doesn’t that mean I can use the term anyway I want?

I guess what it comes down to, is this…to be my friend you have to be able to take a joke, laugh at yourself and laugh at me. And ya I might be insensitive, so put your man panties on and your extra layer of skin and lets go. Or you can also just tell me to shut the H E double hockey sticks up.

This Explains A lot & My 100th Post!

2009-05-21T17:11:00.000-07:00

Let's face it, or maybe I should face it rather...I'm a poser. This is something I like to call 'The Senior Picture Pose'

I have a bit of a secret. Something that not too many people know about me. I have a dark past, one I've been trying to hide for some time now, but I feel as though it is time for to air my dirty laundry, it's time to get it all out in the open.

I don't pay for counseling to attempt to deal with my issues, my good friend 2names and I do a pretty good job of analyzing each other. But I didn't need her help on this one. I figured it out all on my own. And I've just realized where some of my quirks come from. And I've decided not to be ashamed any longer.

So one of my dirty little secrets is ... that I love to watch 'America's Next Top Model.' Ya I know, I've tried to stop, and I just can't. Ok that's not true, I haven't really ever tried. I really can't explain why I like it. I say it's because I love to watch the little cat fights, but my favorite part of the show is watching the actual modeling. And now I know why...

This would be one of the first "modeling" pictures.

Notice the poster of Alyssa Milano behind me. I was a huge fan of "Who's the Boss" I also had Kirk Cameron, and evidently lots of cute kitties and puppies up on my wall.

Here we were going for more of an edgy look

I guess we really did have aspirations to making it big in the modeling world. Tyra would say I'm giving fierceness in this pose. Look at the expression in my eyes...We obviously showed early on our creativeness. Doesn't this picture also make you miss stonewashed jeans?

Yes we even did costume changes. These were the paisley pants, styled in the now infamous tight roll, too bad I didn't have the color coordinated matching socks. That would've been ultra cool.

I'd like to say that this modeling/posing behavior ended after adolescence ... but it didn't. This is me and my college roommates Niner and K-dawg, doing our best Charlie's Angels impression.

I'm afraid I can't be stopped. I just can't turn it off. I will always be simply .... a poser.

Sadie Sitting

2009-05-16T15:35:00.001-07:00

This is Sadie Bear

We are watching her for The Dork and Shell. They are on their way to Nebraska for Memorial Day weekend. She's a pretty good girl.

She actually balances out the chaos in our household with our two other Bears, Steamboate Bear and Flaire Bear.

I think they just look like they are up to something. See Steamboate is saying "Oh snack ... or snap rather, I'm outta here...come on Flaire, lets ditch this place before they find out what we did." You know all slide like ... a little gansta, if you will.

I sometimes enjoy speaking for the boys. It's a fun little game we play...if only we knew what they were really thinking.
This is how she started off her visit. She's a cave dweller we decided.

They all seemed pretty happy in their respective spots. So we left them that way...doggies much better when they are laying down...See the perfect situation to use this phrase. "It is better to let a sleeping dog lie, lay?...whatever.

Padiddle

2009-05-13T06:07:00.000-07:00

Padiddle is a funny word, and it does actually mean something. I didn’t make it up.

Growing up we always yelled “PADIDDLE” and hit the roof of the car when we saw a car with one headlight out. Also a variation of this was the “Beer Me” though I don’t think I should be condoning the drinking and driving of teenagers and college students. Though we all did it…sadly. But in both cases the winner was the person who spotted the headlight out and was the first to hit the roof. One would be awarded…well nothing but the respect of his/her peers for being so quick to the draw.

With the Beer Me version, basically you would be awarded a beer, while out road trippin’. Road Trippin in the country is kind of an inevitable, especially as a yong kid home from college with no place to go to down a few beers away from the parents. You’re at an age where you are too young to go to the bar and too old to hang out at Gas n Shop. I usually played it safe though if I was driving, I set my cruise at 30 mph. I guess I figured I couldn’t get too terribly hurt or really hurt anyone else if I was only going 30. Plus it allowed me to concentrate on steering instead of maintaining speed. Road trippin is also I how I finally learned how to pee outside without peeing on myself. As we would just pull over and pee outside on the dirt road, I first had to do the lean pee. Where you put one hand against the bumper or a tire and sort of propped yourself up, it gave me the proper angle as to which I wouldn’t pee on myself. Now I am proud to say that I have graduated to the full fledged regular squat, no more leaning for me, and I still get the pleasure of not peeing on myself, which is always a great thing. Camping taught me this, as sometimes when you are out in the woods it’s a little scary to be putting your hands on just any tree or stump; you never know what you’re putting it into.

Hopefully the Padiddle never dies, I will be sure to teach my kids this or at least my nieces and nephews if I never have kids. Though I think I will keep my road trippin stories on the down low, I don’t think I really want to pass that on, or encourage it, that probably wouldn’t be good.

A Beautiful Man

2009-05-09T17:13:00.000-07:00

My husband is a beautiful man...

He is great with children...

He relates quite well with them I think.

Looks great in athletic wear...And who doesn't like a man in uniform...

Dogs love him...

Really love him...

Men love him...

And he loves them...

I love him.

Really what's not to love.

As he truly is a beautiful man...and lucky for me he's all mine.

James' Bathroom Creeps Me Out

2009-05-08T13:07:00.000-07:00

I don't know what it is about the bathroom here, but I hate going to it sometimes.

I've already mentioned how I almost opened up a can of whip ass on a couple of dirty people who don't seem to know how to wash thier hands. And then there was the lady that looks like Mama from Momma's Family who just happened to have her potty urges timed out to be identical with mine...creepy.

And then today. There was a woman talking to herself in the bathroom. I stuck around long enough to find out if she was on the phone...she wasn't. She was talking to herself.

Now I'm not one to say anything bad about people talking to themselves, I talk to myself all the time. I carry on complete conversations with myself, I'll answer myself when I ask a question, I even move my lips and incorperate facial expressions. But I don't do it when I know someone can hear me or see me moving my lips. And if they catch me doing it I quickly scamper away.

No this woman seemed to be oblivious to the fact that she was sitting on the john carrying on a converstion with the voices in her head and that there were people within earshot. I wish I could've understood her better, wonder if her conversations are more interesting then the ones I have...probably not. I wonder if she talks to herself in Klingon, or some other vague language so it can't be decifered easily.

Sorry I'm bored....

Earth Day Trees

2009-05-07T17:52:00.000-07:00

This is what my trees looked like when I first got them on Earth Day...they were sticks, literally. But I planted them in some pots and gave them some love, it also helped that its been raining like a bunch of banchies here lately, but they started to actually look like they were alive.

And now they look like this....That's Steamboate he's trying to help...he's not much help.

See there he is again "trying to help."

I'm thinking that some day I will have some big beautiful shade trees in my yard, so that I don't melt away on those hot Texas summer days. Plus I live way to close to my neighbors and I don't really want to be able to see you having supper.
And yes I know I need to mow my weeds...did you not listen when I said it has been raining a lot?

Broken

2009-05-06T06:13:00.000-07:00

This is how I like so sit whilst working....

I'm a little perturbed...I broke my chair.

It was broken since I got it, but I loved the broken bits. The part you sit on actually moved in and out, so that it actually flowed with my butt when I slouched down in my chair, which is how I like to sit. I'll probably develop back problems some day, but until then I shall slouch, its comfy.

I just like this little guy, he kinda looks like he might be eating popcorn.

I love popcorn.

But it was at lunch time when I broke it, I guess that banana I had just sort of tipped me over its breaking point, the chair remained in permanent slouch position. Which normally I wouldn't mind, but it kind of annoying when you do actually want to sit properly. Plus I was kinda feelig like an I was too big, you know breaking my chair and all, and it was making me feel self-conscience.

I switched it out and this new chair, well its not quite the same. It'll do, but I do miss the seat moving with me when I slouch. Maybe I can break this one so it will do it as well.

Flipping or Flicking

2009-05-04T12:51:00.000-07:00

My husband is insistent that you flick people off, when giving them the bird. I don't know where he got this but it really needs to stop.
I think he made it up, well obviously he made it up, probably what happened is he accidently said flick one time and instead of correcting himself decided that he would from then until the end of all eternity say flick instead of flip.
I can't even describe how annoying this can be after so many years. Luckily, we don't get into too many conversations about flipping or flicking, or we might be divorced that’s how excruciatingly annoying it is to me. Usually it comes up when we are in the car, when some dumbass is driving like...well...a dumbass, they deserve the finger. And I’ll say something innocent like “Did you just flip them off?” And he’ll say “No, I flicked them off.”
I’m like, you flick your boogers, and you flip people off. You know flip them the bird? Your hand is down, you extend the middle finger, turning hand up and facing outwards, that is the motion of a flip. Your hand goes from down to up, a flip.
You flick when you want to get something off of your thumb or your flick a bug off of your shirt. That is flicking…
These are not the same motions at all and frankly his is just wrong. I will make him see the light.
I recently got to flip my brother off actually. We have such a loving relationship. Well that is actually how we show our love for each other, calling each other names and flipping each other off when we see one another.
I was recently on my way home the other day when I pulled up behind him. (Let me first preface this by saying that it is highly unusual for me to just “run” into someone I know around here. But we do live in the same town, so its not too terribly unusual, I’ve ran into him twice now since I moved to Wylie in 2007)
So I pull up behind him at a left hand turning lane and we are waiting for the light. I knew it was him because he is the only person in town, or probably the whole metro-plex with Nebraska Cornhusker stickers covering up the Ford symbols on his truck. (I would cover up the Ford symbols as well, a freaking disgrace driving around a Ford, but I digress, I tend to do that a lot, digress that is, so anyway….) There was a woman behind me so I didn’t want her to think I was flipping her off, so I was trying to lean over and put the finger in front of my face so he would both see me and my finger if he looked into his rearview mirror. But he didn’t, I’m just sitting there doing the middle finger salute in my car with a cheesy grin on my face.
So finally I honked to get his attention, which I generally don’t like to honk in rush hour traffic as I don’t want to get shot, but I did just a little one.
And I’m sure he was thinking “WTF? Why the hell is someone honking at me?” Then finally he looked in his rearview and saw me, his darling lil sis. He appropriately returned the proper formalities as he adjusted the phone he was chatting on, I guess he’s a right hand flipper only. Then we went on our merry ways.

John Wayne

2009-05-02T15:04:00.000-07:00

McLintock.

It might just be one of my favorite John Wayne movies, that and Cowboys. I think Cowboys is one of the only movies the Duke died in.

McLintock though, how do I describe it? He spanks his fiery and quite spirited red headed wife, and he condones the spanking of his daughter by one of his hired hands, who happens to be smitten with her, all because she kissed a man before they were even engaged. What a scank.

George Washington McLintock chases his wife though town after she accused him of coming home one night with lipstick on his cheek, all an innocent misunderstanding mind you, and while he chases her she goes through various stages of disrobing. She loses her dress, then her slip thingy and she then seems oblivious that she is running through town during the Fourth of July Celebration in nothing but her skibbies. Though we are talking circa 1800's skibbies, so not exactly Victoria Secret negligee.

There are so many faux pas in this movie, between the conflicts with the unarmed Indians, and the way McLintock seems to think its ok to turn the women in his life over his knee, almost makes your mouth drop, but the movie was made in 1963 so I guess, being politically correct wasn't as much of an issue.

Once in college Niner, Amber, Meg and I loaded up in my car at around midnight on the day before Thanksgiving from Wayne, Nebr. and set off for Canada. We made it to Des Moines, Iowa. Which was directly 8 hours west of where we started, ya I know we went the wrong direction. We just felt like going on a road trip and let the wind take us where it may, and Des Moines was evidently the way.

I'm glad we did, hopped up on No Doz we hit town, in what we thought at the time as the bad side of town, I think we saw a few homeless people or something and decided we were too impressionable to get out of the car, so we decided to turn back, but not before stopping at the Duke's birthplace. It was just a lil white house, in a town where if you blinked you'd miss it, just outside of Des Moines. The place was closed but, I read the plaque outside and got my picture taken. I walked where the Duke walked. That alone was worth the trip.

I've got a party to go to now and will probably partake in the consumption of alcoholic beverages. Maybe stay up kinda late, and tomorrow I may not be the most chipper bird, in which case I might be able to use the words of the Duke to whoever might try to talk to me in the morning...."Don't say it's a fine morning or I'll shoot ya!"

All Done

2009-05-01T15:44:00.000-07:00

Yes. I'm finished I have completed the transfer of all my posts over to this blog. Only took me 2 days not too bad.

So I'm pretty excited about the new setup. I do kinda like it if I do say so myself. I will post a link to the old blog for a while but I won't be posting there anymore as I'm a blogspot blogger now.

My favorite happy birthday text

2009-04-27T15:40:00.000-07:00

As far as birthday's go this one hasn't exactly been the most memorable, and in fact it really wasn't much different than any other day...except I got some birthday wishes.

The best one was from my Bro AKA Dork or Dumbass :)

Let me pre-empt this all by saying that I absolutely hate texting. It has been the thorn in my side for years. I am not good at it, I don't know all the stupid little acronyms that everyone uses, except for the blatent ones you know lol, bff, UR, rotflol, you know the ones that people also use in email and chat, becuase I do do (I just said doo doo :) ) that. So anyway back on the farm.

The first text came...

Dork: H B D B

Which I think means Happy Birthday Dumb Bitch or Dumb Butt...Or maybe he forgot that Birthday was one word so it could be Happy Birthday Bitch. To which I reply...

Me: Uh...Thanks!

Dork: U W

Ok this one I have no idea what it means. I figure the "U" is You but after that I'm stumped. In my head I'm thinking "Wow he must know a bunch of stupid shortcuts, how much does he text for him to know all these shortcuts"

To which I reply: What r u a 13 yo girl? I don't know what that means...

Dork: U Welcome

Me: Dork

Dork: Dork? U r the 1 that did not get it

Me: Whatev yer the 1 who obviously spends too much time texting to know all the obscure shortcuts.

Dork: I j m t u

lol
I just make them up

Me: Rotflol. Why am i not surprised. Timanese text :)

Seriously I can't make this stuff up.

So basically my brother is literally making up his own text messaging language. And anyone who dares text him must either be on his wavelength or epitomize the very existence of Sherlock Holmes. I don't know who he thinks he is that he just pull this crap off, but it gave me a laugh.

Dirty Mind

2009-04-18T15:39:00.000-07:00

Yes I have a dirty mind. Sometimes likened to that of a 13 year old boy, so it's best not to encourage me.

My cubby buddy we'll call him Mr. Wilson, doesn't know this about me, but I've been holding in little giggles all afternoon since he stopped in my office and this is why.

Earlier this morning, that dude that talks alot and is retiring in a month...well he stopped by my office today to talk about giving me some furniture as he and his wife are moving back to the Philly area, they are downsizing and getting rid of some stuff. Well this couch he is looking to get rid of he says has been worn down a bit.

"When I lay down on it, I guess I rub it the wrong way or something and it's worn off like 4 inches," he says this like 3-4 times. Now at first (I can't believe I didn't think of this) but at first I thought nothing of it until Mr. Wilson comes by and says that he almost puked in his mouth when The Old Fart was over here talking about it. Then the wheels start turning, and my imagination gets going. "I don't know I just rub it wrong." Do ya? Do ya rub it wrong? Well maybe you should try the other hand, or maybe ask your wife for help. Or maybe just turn over.

I even asked him to take pics, (of the couch) but man if you over heard our conversation...and he goes "Me? No I wouldn't be able to take a pic." Like he can't multi task...but it could've sounded like I wanted pics of the rubbage. Oh and then I offered to come over and take pics so I could send them to my husband to see what he thinks...oh man.

OK I'm juvinile I know....see its best not to encourage me.

Oh Mother

2009-04-15T15:41:00.000-07:00

It's always a joyous occasion in Wylie, TX when the parents come to town. They are a couple of cards sometimes. And sometimes I feel as though they are fish out of water...

But I must say that my mother does often provide a bit of comic relief for which I use for my own entertainment and to share that entertainment with others. And actually that is one thing I love about my family, is their ability to laugh at themselves and their acceptance, that at some point, you will surely be the butt of a joke.

So the Dorks wife (I need to come up with a name for her how bout Shell) was going to be in class on the Saturday of the birthday party for the Bear. So I assumed that my mom and I would be entertaining the kids that day while the Dork himself prepared the house for the party, and on the Thursday before I suggested to my mom that we should take the kids to the P-A-R-K. I spelled it out in case one of the kids heard, and in case we weren't able to go, as it had been a rainy weekend. My mom was accepting of this proposal and all was set.

Then on Friday, Shell, while on the way to Sam's asked me where this place was that we were going to go to with the kids on Saturday. I was like, "Oh it's just that one down the street from your house, there at 78 and Ballard St."

"Oh she says, I didn't know there was one down there, I'd never seen it," She says.

"Well you know the park right there that we just passed, you know, the one that they just redid," I reply.

"Oh I thought your mom said you were going to a Penny Arcade. And the only thing I could think of was Chucky Cheese," she said.

"No, where did she get penny arcade,” I said laughing...”Oh I see because I spelled it out… P-A-R-K!"

And then my mom chimes in "See I still hear Penny Arcade, every time you say it, I don't understand."

Then I articulate as best as I know how speaking very slowly and loudly “P---A---R---K. THE PARK”

“Oh!” She says. “The park, I just kept hearing penny arcade.”

So now it begins. My mother begins the decline of hearing, like her mother and her mother before that, and unfortunately it will probably also be my own demise. And my hubby complains now that I don't listen to him, just give it 20 years and I really won't be...

But with my mom its bad enough with her ditzy ass, now we have to not only make sure she understands what we are talking about, we also have to make sure she hears us correctly.

Sucks though, now she got me wishing there really was a penny arcade … that would be awesome.

Opposite Marriage?

2009-04-10T15:37:00.000-07:00

So admist all the fuss over the Miss USA pagent and Miss California claiming that she lost the contest because of her stance on gay marriage. I thought I'd take a moment to interject.

Why is it no one took into consideration that she didn't exactly answer the question as eloquently as a spokesperson for women should answer. I don't care what her opinion is, she answered it like a freaking dumbass and she didn't deserve to win if she can't even coherently discern between same-sex marriage and marriage between a man and a woman, heterosexual marriage or even saying something like "Same sex marriage and marriage in the way that God intended it to be, between a man and a woman" but no...Her answer went something like this:

"We live in a land that you can choose same sex marriage or opposite marriage"

Um excuse me? What is opposite marriage? Is that like being single? Cuz that's what the opposite of marriage means to me. I can't believe we are even having this discussion. She lost becuase she sucks. This only fuels the fire of the right wingists who feel as though the left is overreaching on thier values. "See look at those leftists condemning a woman and keeping her from reaching her full potential for speaking out for what she believes in." That's what they are saying. They are congratulating her for speaking her mind and suffering the consequences of not having the popular opinion.

Um I'm sorry but uh, when a well known gay Hollywood blogger, who also happens to be a judge, asks you a question about gay marriage, what the hell kind of answer do you think you should give? A completely watered down version of what you believe evidently. If ya don't know how to win then you shouldn't win. The idea of this question and answer phase in my opinion is to see how well you think on your feet, and well, I would say she failed...miserably. She should've have spoken her mind without offending anyone, if she can't do that then she doesn't deserve to win.

And not only that, but if she is supposed to represent women in this country, does she really think that all woman think that way. I would say a big fat "NO."

Does she not remember when women were not offered equal treatment? Remember when women were not allowed to vote, or work outside the home, or hold offices becuase the church and men thought that women were lesser beings, that we didn't hold the same brain capacity as men. Remember how we had to fight for our rights and freedoms? And come to find out, the church, and man were wrong. And remember how bad everyone felt that woman were, and in some cases still are, held to a different standard, because it wasn't right? Even though at the time everyone thought they were right. How are you going to feel in a few years when you realize you were one of those bigots, and you are wrong?

Or how about mix race couples? Remember how it was disgraceful and even against the law for a black person to be married to a white person. Or a white person married to an Asian person? They would be ridiculed, housing prices would go down if they moved to your neighborhood, is was disgraceful, "I just am glad it never happened in my family"....remember that? Remember how wrong we were for thinking that? Remember you can't help who you fall in love with. Love does not know religion, race, sex or creed, love is honest, true and beautiful. Obviously something you know nothing about.

And in a pagent judging beauty, its no wonder you lost. You really showed your true beauty...or the lack thereof rather.

Ok rant over....

Happy Earth Day!

Sometimes you just know

2009-04-01T15:36:00.000-07:00

Well my sister is in love. She met a guy, about a month ago, and she has already determined that he's the one.

Now many people might think that is ridiculous, immature, naive the list goes on. I on the other hand, I think only she would know.
She has had her share of relationships and history sometimes leads a person to think a certain way. I could say "Oh ya I've heard this all before, yadda, yadda, yadda. You fell in love...again." But this time I actually think there is something there. While she is taking a chance, going out on a limb a little bit, I do see a change in her. She actually does seem genuinely happy and I honestly think, this guy, while he may have some personal family issues he's dealing with, and has some unresolved issues he's getting taken care of(but then who doesn't) I think he seems to committed to her, he seems to have his head 1/2 way on straight (at least more than some of the other guys she's dated)
Evidently they knew eachother for about a week before they were pretty much shacking up. I laughed, and then thought about it. Hmmmmm I can remember when I was in the same position. I must say us Phillips' we don't waste no time when we find what we want. Let me just give ya the run down:
Dork (aka My brother) he started talking to a girl in October, she met the parents that November, and by February she had a diamond on her finger. They were married the following Oct, and were pregnant within a few months. Talk about making some life changes in a year.
Trin: She met a guy while in college, they had a distance relationship for a while, then after about 6 months she moved to the same town as he, within about 2 months she was prego and married about a year later.
Me: I met my husband at Wal-Mart on a Friday, by Saturday we decided to boyfriend and girlfriend, and frankly were practically living together within about 2 weeks.
My parents: Met one night at a football game, and within a month were engaged and I believe they were married about 9 months later then Ang came along 9 months after that. I'm pretty sure my Dad jumped the gun on the proposal though cuz my Mom wouldn't give it up till they were married.
Us Phillips' I tell ya. When we see something we like, we take it and don't let go.

2009-03-20T15:28:00.000-07:00

This would be a mashup of Cavlin and I. Mr. Bywater did it. He's a beautiful man. Frankly I think we are hott together.

Last weekend a few of my friends were in town visiting. Hubby and I did the best we could to make sure they had a good time. Kinda looks like they did. I believe #2 is showing us how much he likes his chips...boy can eat I tell ya.

My favorite pants

2009-03-01T15:27:00.000-08:00

I think everyone has a pair...and I split mine yesterday. It was the seam on my hip and I don't know when I did it. I could've been walking around all day yesterday and frankly the day before because, Yes I wore them 2 days in a row. Sometimes I even wear them 3 or 4 days in a row. (usually not more than 4 as on Friday's we can wear jeans)

They are my favorite pair though. Nothing really special about them, they are the right length, fit good in the waist, they haven't faded in the three years I've owned them, they've survived one operation when I had to repair the hem, they've lost a button and through all this one constant remains...they are my most favoritist pair of dress pants.

I think I'm most upset becuase I'm not going to be able to replace them, cuz we be broke as a joke right now. I could try to "operate" again. But with just a needle and thread I'm not sure how good of a fix I can do.

So I had to resort to another pair of black pants today. They just don't feel the same. So glad tomorrow is friday

Facebook made me do it

2009-02-15T15:19:00.000-08:00

Ok so before I mentioned how I have no desire to go back for a high school reunion, well now I know I won't ever have to thanks to Facebook.

I signed up for an account a little over a week ago and already everyone and their dog has found me. People I haven't heard from in 10 years are becoming my "friend" again through the world wide web. So strange to me.
I must say at first I was taken aback by how many people I once formerly knew are on there. I've had a Myspace page for years but haven't really ever gotten too into it, and in just one week I have more "friends" on Facebook then I ever had on Myspace. I wonder if its because its just easier to find people or something. I don't know, but it has been quite the experience.

The Skers

2009-02-13T15:22:00.000-08:00

So its February and I'm already thinking about Fall Football, and when I say that, I mean college football and more precisly Nebraska Football.

The college football season is really too short, it almost makes it seem like there is nothing on TV for like 7 months, and frankly that is just too long...

Growing up in Nebraska it is hard to not be a supporter of the Husker Nation. Especially when your family are such huge fans. Almost every little boy grows up wanting to someday put on the scarlet and cream and come out of the tunnel greeted by a sea of red on Saturday in Memorial Stadium.

Memorial Stadium, they say if it were a city, would be the third largest in the state on game day. The stadium holds an ongoing NCAA-record 297 consecutive sellout crowds; this streak began in 1962. On September 27, 2008, a Memorial Stadium record crowd of 85,831 watched Nebraska play Virginia Tech.

Inscribed on the four corners of the stadium are the following words, written by former Nebraska professor of philosophy Hartley Burr Alexander:

Southeast: "In Commemoration of the men of Nebraska who served and fell in the Nation's Wars."
Southwest: "Not the victory but the action; Not the goal but the game; In the deed the glory."
Northwest: "Courage; Generosity; Fairness; Honor; In these are the true awards of manly sport."
Northeast: "Their Lives they held their country's trust; They kept its faith; They died its heroes."

A statue of Nebraska coach Tom Osborne (now the school's athletic director) and former Nebraska quarterback Brook Berringer can be found outside the north side of the stadium.

Berringer was a quarterback on Nebraska's 1994 and 1995 national championship teams who died in a plane crash in April 1996, just two days before the 1996 NFL Draft where he was expected to be an early/middle round pick. -Tid Bits I found on Wikipedia.

I have only been to Memorial Stadium once in my whole life, I watched the Huskers trounce Iowa State. There is no way to describe the excitement I felt watching them play live for the first time. It will always be a great memory.

I've gone to 3 games, but only once in Licoln. I watched the Skers beat up on Kansas (in their Memorial Stadium) Where the Sea of Red traveled to Lawerence, one thing about the Husker Nations is they travel well. And then I went to my first Bowl Game as I watched the Huskers lose to Auburn in the Cotton Bowl. Stupid Callahan...as a fan I'm going to try to block out the Callahan years, and hope that the Pelini years are more fun and victorious.

Not far from here

2009-01-20T13:58:00.000-08:00

I don't believe we are alone. No one is.
I just can't fathom that this is all there is.
I can't sit here and tell you that they don't already walk among us. Because I believe they do. Maybe not in the sense that some without thought believe they walk. But they are there.
If we look around, if we open our eyes, it is blatently obvious. They can be the ones that maybe make you shake your head and smile. They could be that person who seems to be able to amazing things, or there are those that have some sort of attraction where people are just drawn to them, it could be them, it could be amazing people. But no matter what they are alien to the majority. I believe there is a little bit of them in each and every one of us, or there can be if we want it to be.
I don't think I will ever quit dreaming when I'm awake, as I can nver remember the ones I have when I'm asleep. And what is life without dreams? Sometimes I wish I could live in that state forever, forever in a dream so long as you never knew you were dreaming. (Vanilla Sky...great movie)
I'm really not crazy, though I feel like I am sometimes. As though some chemical imbalance has made me believe so fervently, because its really hard to always keep wanting more, I'm ansy I can't stay in one place for too long, always looking for something more. Its like I know they are there, just on the other side. Waiting for me to find them.(just felt like rambling a little exercise)

The worst and the best

2009-01-15T13:54:00.000-08:00

PW (http://thepioneerwoman.com/confessions/) got me thinking the other day.
She asked, what was our worst year in school? And for me by far my worst year was my Freshman year in high school. I'm sure I had some awkward days before Freshman year, but that is the one year that sticks out in my head.
Probably, unfortunately I will never forget it, sucks because I'm so far removed from that year, and I have had some bad years at school, specially later on in college, the year of the fire is one that well lets just say, A. I will never live that year down, and B. what doesn't kill us, or make us commit suicide, only makes us stronger.
Let me first just say, looking back, I neither loved nor loathed highschool. It is what it is or was what it was rather. I don't have any desire to go back to that time in my life, don't want to relive it and I definately would not do anything differently.
I believe that translates into my complete disregard and absence at any highschool reunion from now until eternity. To put it bluntly I don't want to go back. As someone once said, "They were the best of times and they were the worst of times."
Frankly if my parents didn't live in That Town, I would probably never even step foot inside the city limits ever again. That place made me who I am, but there were definately times when who I was was not who I wanted to be. And I struggled with life on the outside, I guess because, in That Town, we all lived in some sort of a bubble, somewhat oblivious of how hard it could be on your own, making decisions that affected your life and self esteem and those around you. Its not that I hate That Town, don't get me wrong, I will always harbor a love for the place, I have so many great memories, that I could never hate it, it also became a place to run away to, to escape the outside. Because things there just run at a different pace, if you can handle the looks and the stares and the inevitable gossip, it really is a safe harbor, well what it is, is that That Town, unfortunately will always be Home.
So the worst year there, would, like I said, have to be my freshman year. The whole year wasn't bad mind you, really just about 2 months of the year were really bad. It all started during basketball season. And really only once I was chosen as one of 3 alternates on the varsity basketball team. Being on varsity was a pretty big deal. We had about 30 girls out for basketball and only 12 made varsity, and what would also turn out to be a free trip to the State Basketball Championship in Lincoln, Ne.
For some odd reason I guess, some of the girls on the team didn't think I deserved to make it on varsity. Or they thought I played too rough and didn't like getting knocked around a little during practice. Well you practice like you play, the harder I try the better it makes you, in my opinion. And frankly that toughness and hard work is what probably got me on varsity. But I digress....so they started to make up names and rumors about me.
First they started calling me Fatty Patty, though I didn't even know they were talking about me at first. They would write on the chalk board in the locker room "Nick nack Fatty Pat, give the dog a bone. That ol hog came rolling home...." And then also something about calling me AA, or Double A. Because they called the short girl in our class Big A, they thought she was annoying, so they called me AA or Double A because I was even more annoying and I was twice her size. (she really was pretty short)
Then once we did make it to State, I was chosen to go as an alternate. I wouldn't suit up, unless someone got hurt and couldn't play, but be more of a student manager. The other 2 alternates actually suited up, so then I was deamed the last alternate. But "they" (the girls in my class or the girls on the team) started the rumor that the only reason I was going was because my father talked to the coach. Which wasn't true. I was so frustrated with the rumors I went to the coach myself and told him that I only wanted to go, if he felt I deserved to go, not because my Dad may or may not have talked to him. He assured me, that as an alternate for most of the season, I deserved to go and be with the team. So I went, we won. And I got a gold medal, even though I didn't play in the whole state tournament. I don't care...I deserved that medal.
And that was that, after state, everyone forgot about calling me Fat Pat, we were all on to track season and actually that's where I got my first real nickname. It started out with "Phillips" but then got shortened to "Phil". And what I loved about it, was when they called my name during the starting lineup for games....people would say it like they did on "Cheers" with Norm...it was awesome.
And frankly every year after was great. Had your normal drama and a few ups and downs, but nothing like that. And by the time I was a senior, it was almost like being on top of the world. It was easy.
I was having a conversation with a friend about going back for highschool reunions and I told her, that I have no desire to go back for one, and I guess I was making fun of her for wanting to go to hers. Specially since she lived basically in the same town, she really never left, still hangs out with a bunch of people that she graduated with.
She told me, "Just because your highschool career sucked doesn't mean everyone's did."
And I laughed, I said "My highschool career was the furthest thing from sucking. Those four years, were all pretty successful. I was homecoming royalty, a cheelearder, a three sport letterwinner, and a 4 time state champion, my highschool didn't suck. I don't talk about it much. I just don't want to relive it."
In my opinion, most of the time people go back to those reunions just to see how much better their life is than those of their classmates and to brag about how great their life is. Frankly I don't care. I see it as this, with most of those people I was almost forced to be friends with them, I had no other choice. Either be friends with thise 40 people or be alone. It was that way for all of us. Sure, I bet there are some relationships that have endured, but I would say those are few and far between. I even still have a few, but its just a part of growing up I suppose.
Actually I don't think I would want to relive any period of my life. I can't change anything, for it all has made me who I am.
And I've found with age, I'm getting more stubborn, argumentative and also laid back.
And someday, I'll won't be scared of my own mother.

Christmas Stories

2009-01-07T13:51:00.000-08:00

So Monday was my first day back at work, after only working 1 day between Dec. 23 and Jan. 5.
So naturally, I was blessed with not seeing people for a long time. Well then Monday rolls around, and I'm sad to be in my cubical and not lounging on my couch in my comfy pants, trying to decide what bowl game I want to watch.
Typically if I stay in my cube, headphones on, I can make it all day without saying much more than "Hello" a few times during the day. Well things were going pretty good, till about 2 p.m. when Bittie decides to rear her big ol head into my cube opening and say "Hello" I exchange the same pleasantry back and turn my head back to my computer screen, seemingly absorbed in my work and my music.
But evidently that wasn't enough for her. She started to tell me how she had the greatest time this holiday season and she didn't even spend any time with her family. Great that's awesome, I replied. She asked me about my holiday and I told her it was nice and relaxing. Hoping she'd be on her merry way, but not so much.
She plopped herself down in my chair, I knew then I was doomed, and she started to explain in great detail about what she did during her whole break. (I'm thinking "seriously, don't you have work to do?")
And she keeps rambling on about eating Chinese food, and playing some card game till 4 a.m. and then getting together to play the card game again a few days later becuase it was so much fun the first time. Too bad telling me that wasn't as much fun the first time I heard it too. (Side note, it wasn't very fun to hear about)
So she carried on for a good 30 mins about her activities, and then another 10-15 mins about how she needs another house that she can have that is clean becuase her current house is cluttered with Christmas and her hobbies. She also tells me about her hobby of decorating tiles. What people do with these tiles I have no idea...
Man why do I get stuck with these stories. Nobody else does this to me. If I cared, I'd ask, I don't need the play by play. Maybe I just hate people...or most people. Or maybe just Bittie...ahhhhh but hate is such a nasty word, I don't hate her, just annoyed by her and people, maybe I should just live in a world of my own.
Well I might just get crazy enough, in my mind I will.

UPDATE: Ok...Its 1:33 p.m. on FRIDAY. And I can hear her telling the same story to one of my cubby buddies. He seems to be just as amused as I was. Its been 4 days and she is still talking about that damn card game. Must've been a fun game. Gonna have to find out the rules of this game, maybe me and the Ol Hubby can play, spice up our home life a little bit.

Holy Canoli!

2009-01-05T13:50:00.000-08:00

Man I just realized I hadn't posted in a while, and then I felt a little twinge of guilt. Don't worry the feeling passed quickly. Just like my farts...
I guess it's because I've been busy at work, I would not suggest anyone learn Access.
It sucks ass. I've been working on building a database and then going back and entering in data, then exporting said data and formatting it for the past 2 months. Ugh!
I'm almost done, but still a ways to go. Maybe someday I'll get back to not having anything to do at work but surf the web and email my friends. Oh those were the days.
And the holidays are over, next paid vacation day is Memorial Day.
Man that sucks.

Jannie

2008-12-12T13:49:00.000-08:00

Sorry but this might not be so great....
One year ago...
She left one year ago today. I didn't tell her good-bye, it might not be something I'll every say.
But she still went, she is gone anyway.
She was young, she was beautiful and she was loved. She's gone and will always be missed.
I have this picture in my head of her final days, she hurt I'm sure, and I think she knew it wasn't good. But I see her laying there, all in white...(I think her hair fell out but that is not how I see her) her brown hair with that distinguished slash of gray, looking worn out...tired... as she did when staying up late talking, attempting to solve the worlds problems in front of a fire on her living room couch.
I see her crooked smile, I know she smiled, it came so easy. Even when she carried so much pain, I know that smile was there. Making assurances, cracking jokes...everything would be alright she'd say.
It wasn't...She didn't know she wouldn't see this Christmas or last, she didn't know she'd seen her last pile of snow, she didn't know she was going to go. But she went.
It sucks for the living. But her, she lived.
She fulfilled so many dreams.
Her husband, her daughter, her home, her horse and her family.
I don't think she could or would've asked for anything more.
Except to live that perfect life she lived....
I love you Aunt Jannie

What is it about Christmas?

2008-12-10T13:47:00.000-08:00

I want to know what it is about this time of year that makes people have a massive sweet tooth?
Yesterday at 8 a.m. Queen Bittie comes to my office and informs me that one of the suppliers has brought us bagels.
Then a little later she comes and tells me that there is candy on the table in the mailroom.
Yesterday at 4:32 p.m. the email went out to everyone on our department...
"There are brownies in the Mailroom."
Missed that one by 32 mins. I leave at 4 p.m. and I haven't checked but I'm pretty sure that there are no more brownies left.
Then at 7:45 a.m. this morning....
"Everyone go and get one of the danishes that Steve brought. They are in the Mailroom"
Next week is "Goodie Week." It is what it sounds like. Everyone brings a desert or snack type thing for the department and we will all graze on the stuff till Christmas. Or it goes bad, whichever comes first.
Not only do we have Goodie Week, one day during Goodie Week, we also have a "Feast Day" where we do a covered dish type lunch for everyone.
So next week I have to bring 2 things into work.
If someone takes our office hostage, or there is some sort of disaster evacuation, you'll find me in the mailroom.
Seriously if I can make it out of this office without gaining weight in the next 2 weeks it really will be a Christmas Miracle.
Scuse me while I go and get some chocolate and a danish for breakfast....
What I didn't have my coffee this morning, chocolate has caffine right?

Things I did not know

2008-11-25T13:44:00.000-08:00

Well this isn't a list of things that I did not know previously to today. But there is one thing that I did not know until just now.
Thingamajig is a word.
I know, surprising. But I typed it in to an email and my Outlook did not target it as a misspelled word, leading me to believe that it is actually a word.
This pleases me greatly because for someone having an English/Communications/Journalism college degree I don't speak as well as one should. I say such things as "you guys" (which is better than saying ya'll, which I hate btw {btw means by the way, by the way}).
"Hows come?" is another one that I get made fun of for. And I tend to screw up the whole "i" before "e" except after "c" and before "v"? I'm not sure how it goes actually. I just use spell check when the situation with the i and e arises.
But one other cool thing I didn't know until a few weeks ago...while in a word doc as in Microsoft word...hold down the "ALT" key while pushing a series of numbers on your keypad. For instance hold down ALT and type in 145. There are a ton of them, try it out. I guarantee it'll keep you occupied for at least 5 mins. I don't know how far back that little trick goes but I have MSOffice 2003.
Back to this whole thingamajig thing...
I'm begining to wonder if all the words that I make up will soon become actual words. For instance whatserface, or whatshisface, or also a variation of the two, whatserbuckets name, or whatshisbuckets name.
Will all carbonated drinks become pops?
Is the world slowly developing into sheeple followers of me?
This would work out quite well with my plan to become the dominant world leader, everyone will speak Nettiespeak or Philspeak, Flaire is very excited to become the Secretary of Production of Squeaky Toys. Man this could be so awesome.
In the meantime, I'll keep a lookout for more of Nettiespeak becoming part of mainline society.
Oh I know what would work...I need to get on that show with Paris Hilton...My New BFF or something, and start throwing out the mespeak.
Oh yes, muwahahahahahahahah (evil laugh)

Writers Block

2008-11-12T13:41:00.000-08:00

So as memeber of livejournal everyday they have this "Writers Block" thing, I guess to help you out if you can't think of anything else to write about and I thought today's was interesting. Well that and I don't have any new poop stories to talk about.
So todays writers block mentioned Kurt Vonnegat's titles, like Slaughterhouse 5, and how great the titles are, so if I were to write a book about my life what would the title be?
Well after not thinking about it for very long I came up with this..."5 Blocks From Gas n' Shop" Mostly becuase much of my childhood had to do with the house in town, which is where I mostly grew up. "5 Blocks from Gas 'n Shop"...and miles from everywhere else.
It really defines my childhood. And it also speaks to where I came from, which has made me who I am today.
When we moved to town, I remember hating it. I loved living on a farm. I loved having room to run around, most of my friends and family lived on farms, and they had and got to do things that we couldn't do anymore.
Of course I grew accustomed to it and found things to do in town that we couldn't do in the country, and one of those things was scrounging up enough change to go down to Gas n Shop to buy a pop.
Gas 'n Shop was the place we hung out at after games, after practice, after conditioning. On Sundays, after mass, we made a run for a pop and a box of Hot Tomales. Its where we met up at when going somewhere else. It was the only place to get a Swiss Roll or a Honey Bun. It was the only place to order a pizza from (cept for Thursday when the Pizza Hut Truck was in town).
I remember renting movies and a VCR from there, back before we ever had one.
And though its not called Gas 'n Shop anymore, I think its a Casey's or something, I still call it Gas 'n Shop and every time I'm home its hard not to make a stop in there. Its hard not to when its the only gig in town.

Cookies are num num!

2008-11-10T13:40:00.000-08:00

I got a wild hair up my ass yesterday and decided to make some cookies. I don't think I've made any since last Christmas.
And I even have one of those super sweet mixers, Kitchenaid...those things are tight. But I digress...but those things are awesome.
So I made the ol staple chocalate chip cookies and boy did I make a lot. I have like 30 or more cookies at my house right now. I'm freezing some.
Nothing better than bringing out some homemade cookies and not have to do the work to enjoy them, like 3 months later. (I'd actually be surprised if they made it that long, but we'll see.)
I normally don't switch things up very much, but this time I used a mixture of chocolate chips and white chocolate chips (both left over from Christmas last year as well) and was pleasantly surprised.
The Hubby isn't much of a fan of chocolate so I made a few batches with just white chocolate then the rest I mixed it all up. The white chocalate doesn't melt as well and regular chocolate chips but still they turned out darn tasty if I do say so myself.
So now I'm prepared to gain about 10lbs. from eating too many cookies. Oh but it'll be worth it.

Can't come fast enough

2008-10-28T13:38:00.000-07:00

With 5 days to go until the election of 2008, I thought maybe I’d get a few things off my chest.
I don’t think it’s a secret to anyone who knows me, how I stand on issues and what issues are more important to me.
I actually voted yesterday, great thing about living in a very populated county we can vote early 2 weeks ahead of the election, so no standing in line for me. Early voting is probably the best invention since sliced cheese.
I implore people to visit your county website or find out what is going to be on your ballot before you actually go and vote. Because lets face it, while we all like to hem and haw over the presidential elections, the election that actually matters to you and me, the regular folk, are the local elections.
And not only that but it’s been proven that the popular vote doesn’t win the presidential election anyway.
Most likely you have a senator seat up for election this year. On my ballot there were proposals in relation to my local school district. Also there were Supreme Court and district court judge places up for grabs, tax assessor, county sheriff and railroad commission. These are some of the things that matter.
Especially in Texas, the Supreme Court in Texas currently has a lot of conservative judges on the panel. And unfortunately they are turning over a large amount of judgments in cases decided on by a jury trial. Why? Because they all think the same. Many citizens think that it is a good idea to have judges that lean more to their way of thinking. And with Texas being a very conservative state it’s no wonder this has happened. But actually it is better when there is a balance of judges, some that lean to the left, some that lean to the right and some that can go either way.
We are talking about our civil liberties here; I personally don’t want one group of people deciding what I can or can’t do. I think its much better to have a broad base for thought process; diversity is a good thing, something we should embrace.
And I must add, I just heard this today: Bible Spice, to describe Gov. Palin. I must say that is the funniest thing I’ve heard so far today.
However it is only 10:44 a.m. And I’ve been at work for most of my day…James House just isn’t all that funny at 7 a.m.

Wash your hands first!

2008-10-23T13:36:00.000-07:00

I'm pissed off at unclean people.
Last week, I'm in the bathroom here at James' house and I'm washing my hands like a good, clean girl, when I notice the other woman in the bathroom with me flushes, zips up and walks straight out of the bathroom.
WITHOUT WASHING HER HANDS!
Touching the very door handle that I have to touch, me with the disinfected and clean hands, to get out of said bathroom.
Then, just now, I'm in the bathroom washing my hands, when the woman who was in there with me pretending not to take a dump, wasting water flushing the toilet a gazillion times and dispenses enough tp to wipe the ass of everyone here in James' house, so as to cover up her farting and poop plopping, finishes up, zips up, walks over to the towel dispenser, pushes the handle (putting her dirty hands all over it) gets some paper and heads to a sink to wash her hands.
So now I have to put my hands on the very dispenser she just put her feces ridden hand on.
Now I know why she did it, so she wouldn't have to touch the dispenser after she had just washed her hands. But seriously I JUST WASHED MY HANDS!
So now I have to do the very thing she didn't want to do, and how does she know everyone does this...grrrrr!
Now I know why Mr. Penney had the foresight to put hand disinfectant OUTSIDE of the pee, disease and feces ridden bathrooms.
People are so dirty.

Makes Mouths Happy

2008-10-14T13:33:00.000-07:00

I have stated before that Twizzlers is probably one of my favorite candies.
I absolutely love licorice.
But I do not like black licorice, at all. I do like black licorice flavored alcoholic drinks, but that is different, entirely different.
So back to Twizzlers...I have to be very specific, I only like the strawberry and cherry flavors of licorice and actually it even gets more specific than that. I like cherry nibs and strawberry twizzlers, two very different thigs with very different flavors.
If I could, I would make a twizzler holiday.
I did some looking and I think licorice has been around for quite some time as the flavor comes from an extract.
I found this on Wikipedia:
Licorice is the root of Glycyrrhiza glabra, from which a sweet flavour can be extracted. The liquorice plant is a legume (related to beans and peas) and native to southern Europe and parts of Asia.

Oh snap I didn't know this:
Excessive consumption of liquorice or liquorice candy is known to be toxic to the liver and cardiovascular system, and may produce hypertension and oedema. There have been occasional cases where blood pressure has increased with excessive consumption of liquorice tea, but such occasions are rare and reversible when the herb is withdrawn. Most cases of hypertension from liquorice were caused by eating too much concentrated liquorice candy. Doses as low as 50g daily for two weeks can cause a significant rise in blood pressure.

But anyway I think that licorice or twizzlers does deserve a holiday as it has been making my mouth happy since like 1985 or so...I think maybe the licorice or twizzler holiday should be celebrated on my birthday and I think Mt. Dew should help sponsor the celebration. As nothing goes better with strawberry twizzlers than Mt. Dew.
I think the activities involved in such a celebration should include free twizzler samples, along with a 20oz of the Dew, an all day "Friends" Marathon, so I can just sit on my couch and suck Dew through Twizzler straws. Sounds like a pretty good day to me. Oh and maybe we could also during the night have a Supernatural marathon as well...in this case you will probably need to take the day after National Twizzler Day off as well, for you will be bloated with Twizzlers and Dew and tired from watching 2 of the best TV shows every thought up.

Twizzler history for those history buffs: (like me)
Y&S Candies, the manufacturers of TWIZZLERS candy, is one of the oldest confectionery firms in the United States. The company was established in 1845 as Young and Smylie and adopted Y&S as its trademark in 1870. National Licorice Company was created in 1902 through the merger of three small firms: Young & Smylie, S.V. & F.P. Schudder and H.W. Petherbridge. The company changed its name to Y&S Candies Inc. in 1968 and was acquired by Hershey Foods in 1977. Today TWIZZLERS candy is available in a variety of flavors and styles. Y&S produces strawberry, true black licorice, cherry, and chocolate flavored licorice-style candy.
Timeline
1845 Young and Smylie confectionery firm is established.
1870 Y&S is adopted as the company trademark.
1902 National Licorice Company established with the merger of Young and Smylie, S.V. & F.P. Schudder and H.W. Petherbridge.
1968 National Licorice Company is renamed Y&S Candies, Inc.
1977 Hershey Foods acquires Y&S Candies, Inc.

YUM In my tum...

Killing babies

2008-10-10T13:31:00.000-07:00

I love it when my mom comes home from church and asks me if Obama is for abortion at any time of gestation, from conception to birth, oh and she asks me this during my neice's 3rd birthday party.
I mean isn't this appropriate conversation to be discussing around a bunch of little girls running around in princess outfits?
So I tell her I don't know if he is, its been my understanding that he supports a women's right to choose, he has said he trusts women to make the right decision concerning their health, body and life.
Frankly no I do not think he supports late term abortions, not many do. I told her, I'm sure his wife has never had an abortion and I bet his 2 daughters never have one, and really does it really matter, he's one man?
"Murder is murder and this is one of the worst kinds of murder, it is the only issue that matters." She says.
"Really?" I reply, "Look where voting based on what guy you think goes to church more has gotten us?"
Now let me be clear. I personally don't agree with abortion. I would never have an abortion. Not when there are so many other choices. Especially when my own sister chose life and gave her baby a chance at a life that she couldn't give him.
But on the other hand, I don't really care what a polititian thinks about abortion. I don't use it as an issue that helps me decide whether or not I would vote for a person. I don't think that illegalizing abortion is the answer to stopping abortion. I think that will come with education, making birth control more accessible and making sure women understand that there are other options out there.
I also don't like that pastors and preists are out there preaching politics, telling their congregation how to vote. I think that these people have brains and should be able to make an educated decision without the consultation of their spiritual leader telling them how to think.
OK I'm going to get off my soap box now.
And it isn't even Sunday.

It's the list...

2008-10-02T08:50:00.000-07:00

I posted a blog earlier in the year about the 10 things I want to do before I die. But I was kinda like "hmmm there are surely more than just 10 things I want to do." And there are....there really are.

So here's the list...in no particular order

1. Learn to play guitar
2. Travel to Europe
3. Meet someone uber famous
4. Run in and finish a marathon
5. Write a book or at least publish what I have
6. Dip my toes in the Atlantic
7. Dip my toes in the Pacific
8. Visit NY City and have one of those hotdogs from the hotdog stands in the street
9. Go to the Grand Canyon
10. Go camping in at least 5 national parks
11. Travel by car, van or RV across the U.S.
12. Be a mother
13. Write a book
14. Solve Mario Galaxy getting all stars
15. Meet at least one member from Blink 182 before their balls are old and wrinkly
16.

Chuck Blocked

2008-09-21T13:28:00.000-07:00

I didn't think it could happen, but apparently James Cash has found a way to block Chuck Norris.
I was getting ready to put up a new Chuck fact of the day. (I know its been a long time since I posted one, so calling it Chuck fact of the day isn't really accurate but whatever...)
And the site has been blocked.
Someone might want to notify the CIA, Russian Mafia or something and let them know that James Cash has found a way to block Chuck.
Now I don't know if he could block his round house though...

Ike and I had a great weekend

2008-09-14T13:25:00.000-07:00

We went camping this weekend.
And the remnents of Ike came blowing through our campsite early Sunday morning.
It was windy, we got wet, we survived. No big deal.
We saw some pretty sites, we do want to go back and see the fall colors.
The funniest part of the weekend was when we were packing up to go home Sunday morning, a couple of the park's maintenance guys came by to check on things and told us we were their heros. The only ones brave enough to tough it out, and to top it all off, we were in a tent.
That's right Flair Bear, my Hubby and I, we aint no wimps.

Remembering 9/11

2008-09-11T13:18:00.000-07:00

This date has become one of those dates in our lives when people ask, "so where were you on 9/11?"

Like how everyone remembers where they were when JFK was shot. And its true it is a day that I will never forget, that day is very clear in my mind. And it was a day that changed my life forever.

I was living with my parents in C-Town, it was the summer after I graduated from WSC.

The morning started off like any other day, I was up at 6 a.m. went for a walk with Ang, then a run, went home had breakfast then took my nap.

Then the phone started ringing off the hook. I thought it was the fax machine that sometimes called our house so I tried to ignore it. After several obvious call backs I decided to pull my arse out of bed and answer it. It was my mom.

"What are you doing."

"Nothing, just fishing," trying to hide the fact that I had just woken up.

"Well turn on the T.V."

"OK, What channel?"

"It doesn't matter." She said with a little bit of frustration in her voice.

I turned it on and sat dumbfounded...for it was on every station. The look on my face was a look that kept repeating itself throughout the day. It was the look on everyone's face as they tried to come to grips with the loss of life and the fact that we had been attacked on our own soil.

I don't know what station I was watching, but I sat glued to it for the rest of the morning and throughout the rest of the day.

I had to work at the bar that night, and on the way I noticed people lined up outside Gas n' Shop to fill up with gas, there was such a sense of fear covering everyone for a few days following the attacks.

At the bar, it was like a ghost tavern. Usually it is slow when I first go in at 5 p.m. but that day it stayed slow, and it wasn't so much that there weren't any customers its just that those that did come in, ordered their beer, and sat staring at the TV. Its so strange that a lot of my memories are of people staring at somber images in a television screen.

For a few days it was almost like people were afraid to laugh.

There were stories of old men, lining up outside of Army, Navy & Marine recruiting offices, ready to sign up and punish whoever it was who did this to our country.

I was actually in line to join before the attacks and I then deftly got out of line after the attacks.

If it weren't for a phone call from my Aunt Jannie, who knows where I'd be. It all works out in the end, and as I always say, everything happens for a reason. I guess you can call me a coward, I'll take that.

Why did 9/11 happen to our country, I'm not going to answer that even if I knew the answer. But our country did change afterwards, If only we had better leadership at the helm who knows where we would've gone, I don't believe our journey after 9/11 is quite over.

So what do you remember about that day? (Leave a comment)

An Olympic Hangover

2008-08-20T13:03:00.000-07:00

I must say that volleyball is probably one of my favorite sports to watch, whether live or on TV. It also happens to be one of my favorite sports to play. I do like watching football as well, but volleyball tends to be quicker and keeps you on the edge of your seat, like ALL THE TIME.
The last 2 nights I've stayed up late (late for me is 11 p.m.) to watch May and Walsh win the Women's Gold in Beach Volleyball and last night I watched Dalhausser and Rogers win the Men's Gold in Beach Volleyball. It was mother efin awesome. Loved it.
However I do have say I've got that Olympic Hangover that everyone has been talking about, staying up past our bedtimes in order to watch live events in Bejing China. Making work suck the next day.
It does however piss me off a little bit, when the announcers make excuses for the way the players play.
"Oh Rogers missed that set, but that ball is probably pretty wet coming off of Dalhausser's arms, just slipped through his hands too much..." and "Oh May missed that one, with this rain coming down the ball just slipped off her arm..."
I'm sorry but that is not how it works. Rogers carried the ball plain and simple he was trying to guide the set a little too much to get it to his partner and he carried it plain and simple.
I just thought it was funny how many errors were caused because the heat was causing the players to sweat extensively and they weren't able to have control over the ball. I'm a sweater, I know as well as anyone, that excuse is bs.
And the rain making a bump go ary I'm sorry probably not the reason, she missed the pass because she wasn't lined up, she wasn't completly behind the ball and had no control over it. The only excuse they had for missing stuff in the rain is ya the spikes becuase they are looking up into the rain when they hit, same thing with the block but actually not as much with the block.
But enough ranting about that, on to the 4x100 relay.
I must say pathetic.
I have been pretty dissapointed in the American athletes in the track and field events. Normally track and field is all about the USA. Not so much this year.
We did sweep the men's 400 meters but that was about the only highlight from Fridays events (Bejing Time, Thursday night here) That freakin 400 relay pissed me off to no end.
Both the men and the women's teams were disqualified. Both teams dropped the baton on the last pass, just 100 meters to go to make it into the finals. USA has never missed the finals of an Olympic 400 meter relay since the relay's inception in like 1928. That is pretty pathetic.
Its like all they had to do was get that thing around the track and they were in, the runners are fast enough they would've qualified even if the lead runner looked back to grab the baton (not normal procedure)
And the women had to of known that the men had been dsq so why didn't they say to themselves "get this thing around the track even if you have to stop to put it in my hands." I don't know, I just know it sucked.
Sucked mostly for them I'm sure, becuase thier olympic dream was shattered before they even got a chance to create it.
I'm holding out hope for the 4x400 relay thought since the USA went 1,2,3 in the men's 400. I'm expecting gold in that too, unless someone screws it up.

Uninteresting deep thoughts

2008-08-10T18:59:00.000-07:00

I just got done reading this blog and I thought “Wow, she brings up a good question.” How well do we know each other?

How many of us hide who we truly are? How many of us are not the same person behind closed doors? How many of us put on faces?

Not counting Mr. Vasey or my close relatives, I have like 6 people I would consider very close friends. People I talk to on a regular basis, people who have been through my own self inflicted hells with me and back again. They know me … pretty well I think, but then again I think, how well? I don’t know.

Each of us carries with us a bit of self-centeredness that I think may keep us from knowing everything about a person. That self-centeredness sort of makes us not really care about the other person, like we don’t care enough to know all the details. That mixed with the combination of not sharing everything about ones life can lead to an abundance of secrets, the kind of secrets that generally only come out when one is drunk or half way to sleep. And neither person remembers the secrets the next day, or are too scared to talk about them.

In high school, one of my best friends was my next door neighbor. From door to door, I could run to her house in less than 30 seconds. When her mom grounded her, which happened a lot (for no apparent reason sometimes) I would smuggle a walkie-talkie to her and I would sit on the curb and talk to her from her bedroom. Her mom saw what I was doing one night and she thwarted our walkie talkie rendezvous from that point on. Can’t fault us for trying though.

We were best friends from the day she moved in, I think I was in the third or fourth grade and she was a year ahead of me in school. We played Barbie’s, rode our bikes around the hood, talked to boys on the phone and she tried to teach me how to drive a stick-shift.

As we got older I knew she was depressed, she was a beautiful girl, but had low self-esteem. Her usual mode was to cut her wrists never enough to really hurt herself, but enough to draw attention.

When I was a junior in high school, I remember her name being mentioned over the loud speaker in the morning as an absence for the day. We were a small enough school that’s how they let the teachers know, that a student wouldn’t be in class for that day. I remember thinking it was strange because I was at her house the night before. We watched 90210, and I remember she said something about how she didn’t think Tori Spelling was really all that pretty. I agreed with her. We chatted some more, then I had to leave.

I wasn’t living at my parents house at the time, as it was gutted from a remodeling project so Treebee and I were staying with our grandparents out on the farm. She seemed normal that night, I wouldn’t say anything out of the ordinary. I didn’t see any signs. Or did I not care to see the signs?

My teacher, Mrs. Hoffman, knew Heather and I were good friends; she pulled me aside and told me what had happened. Apparently Heather had tried to commit suicide the night before, she was in the hospital, she tried to OD. Her mom found her up in her room surrounded by piles of her own vomit. And I was the last friend to see her before she decided to swallow a bottle Tylenol. (I don’t think she knew that it wouldn’t necessarily kill her, she hoped, though it did fuck up her liver)

The doctors weren’t sure how her liver was going to fair; she was on sketchy ground for a while. I remember being pissed her mother didn’t tell me, but I think the whole family was embarrassed. In a small town news travels fast and bad news travels even faster. They knew everyone was talking about them. And I’m sure, worried about their daughter, they were trying to protect her as much as they could.

When I went to see her at the hospital, she again seemed fine. She didn’t talk about it, and honestly I don’t recall ever talking about it with her. I don’t know if she got the help she needed or not. She of course survived and has three beautiful children, so she did overcome.

But I guess it brings me back to my point, I knew her, I was with her. I really think she hoped to do the job that night and I didn’t know.

I’m so glad she has succeeded in life, and I’m also glad she failed in taking it.

I'm roofing my house

2008-08-10T13:11:00.000-07:00

Ok so I'm not. But I do have shingles.
It sort of baffels me. Here I am, a pretty healthy 31 year old. I have only been on 1 antibiotic in about 20 years. I don't have cancer (that I'm aware of) I don't have HIV/AIDS (that I'm aware of) I'm not over 60 and frankly I'm not stressed out, so why the hell do I keep getting it?
The other 2 times I feel were explained by the stress that I was under those made at least a little sense to me, but this time ... not so much.
Grrrrr
Well this much is true, I'm a little tired today after getting free food and booze at a baseball game last night and not going to bed till after midnight.
I really need to think about going to bed at a decent time at some point.

Going Ol' Skool

2008-08-08T07:56:00.000-07:00

I got to thinking about some of my favorite movies while growing up.
Now these are those movies that I would never say are the best movies ever. That list would be very hard for me, and most of the movies on that list would probably be more recent movies.
No this list is going to be those movies that were more of a staple for the young 80's - 90's youth. I'm sure there were some criticaly acclaimed movies in the late 80's early 90's, but these aren't them.

Pretty Woman - This is great becuase Julia Roberts and Richard Gere were in it and I loved those 2 when I was about 16, but also you know this film is great when you can walk up to just about any woman and ask her for a line from the movie and without hesitation she'll give one to you....my favorite "You should go for him. You look hot tonight. Don't take less than $100. Call me when you're through. Take care of you"

Breakfast Club - Nothing is better than watching Molly Ringwald apply lipstick with her clevage...awesome. Principal Vernon "The next time I have to come in here I'm crackin' skulls." That guy was such a douche bag.

Can't Buy Me Love - Has to probably be in the top 2 for me. This is a classic I wanted to be Cindy Mancini so bad. She had the cool Rabbit VW, cheerleader. What was even better is, this movie as on all the time on like TBS or something.

Beaches - This was the first movie I ever cried in. "Now and Then" was the last. I don't really cry at movies.

Drop Dead Fred - Thank God for this movie. It saved me one summer of babysitting.

Ace Ventura Pet Detective - Reeheheheheeeeaaaaalllly. Actually AVPD might be on my all time top ten list. Yes I know my standards aren't very high. Loved this movie. And hey Dan Marino was in it. This movie has some of the best quotes and I still use some of them today.
-If I'm not back in five minutes... just wait longer.
-Well, I'm not really ready for a relationship, Lois, but thank you for asking. Hey, maybe I'll give you a call sometime. Your number's still 911? All righty then.
-Captain's Log, stardate 23.9, rounded off to the... nearest decimal point. We've... traveled back in time to save an ancient species from... total annihilation. SO FAR... no... signs of aquatic life, but I'm going to find it. If I have to tear this universe another black hole, I'm going to find it. I've... GOT TO, MISTER
-Why do you care about Snowflake? Do you know him? Does he call you at home? Do you have a dorsal fin? To train ze dolphin you must zink like ze dolphin! You must be getting inside ze dolphin's head. I am saying to Snowflake, "Akay!... Akay Akay Akay?" und he is saying "AKay Akay!" und he is up on ze tail "Eeeeeeeeee!" und you can quote him!
-Holy Testicle Tuesday
-I came to confess. I was the second gunman on the grassy knoll.

I actually used to perform those last few for friends and family whenever I felt the urge. A bit of my middle child syndrome coming out I guess, always trying to be the center of attention. I think I still have my Authentic Pet Detective Card somewhere. I really should find it, could be a career to fall back on.

Paralysis

2008-08-06T09:49:00.000-07:00

So I didn't mention this to a lot of people, becuase I figured everything would be fine. And it was.
My father had surgery on his neck last Friday. Right before he went on his camping trip to Canada he started losing the feeling in his right arm, and by the end of the trip he couldn't feel nor move his right arm. So he came home, saw the doctor and had surgery.
Now there are a couple of things about his that leave a person just shaking their head.
1. My father has actually been having problems for three years, he was going to have something done a long time ago, but for some odd reason he kept putting it off, until it got so bad that he may not have full use of his arm again.
Now you might feel sorry for him (or you may not) but also what I find interesting (interesting about my dad that is) is that this is the second time he has done this. He doesn't have full use of his foot becuase he let a pinched nerve go for too long and he walks with a limp. So why did he wait so long?
2. If he was feeling something going on before why did he not get to a doctor right away. Well I guess going fishing is more important than losing limbs...I know it is more important than his daughters wedding (oh but I digress, and my mom admitted that it was her fault anyway, but I'm still going to bring it up)
So this is just a reminder to me in my old age not to let things go I guess. Because I hate the doctor. No I serioulsy hate the doctor. I only go to my girly doctor, that's it. And doing that raises my blood pressure and anxiety so much that she thinks I'm on my death bed when I walk through her door.
Forgive me though I don't like getting my cooch looked at and my boobs rubbed by strange people, and I definitaly have huge issues peeing in a cup.
But evidently he is able to make a fist now, so he should get the use back.

Good Pussy Cleans

2008-08-06T07:45:00.000-07:00

Ok this will be the end of animal stories for a little bit, but I thought of this while writing yesterday’s and decided it deserved to be told as well.
Niner and I adopted two kitties. Mine was named Doogie (after Doogie Houser MD) and hers was named Cheeto, because he was orange like a Cheeto.
Our cats were really a pain in the arse. They weren’t neutered yet so they sprayed all over the house and our house smelled like shit and cat piss a lot of the time. They were a bit adventurous and likened to being escape artists as well.
Our house was a 2 story house and they had tore out a hole in the screen window upstairs and were jumping out of it to escape the house. So yes, kitties can fall 2 stories and live, ours did it all the time.
The best thing about our cats that we learned is that they are very proficient at cleaning up food.
Niner and I got pretty drunk one night, and yes I know it was naughty but we decided to drive to Mexico for some nachos. (No not the country Mexico, we called Texaco, Mexico because they had a tasty little Mexican food bar you could order from damn near all hours of the night, worked wonders on my waistline)
So we went to Mexico for some burritos and nachos, and I’m driving home, when Niner the klutz, spills her nachos everywhere. We are talking nacho cheese, jalapeños, meat, sour cream all over my car dash, upholstery, consol ect. It was a mess.
We got home and I was trying to clean it out before it got sundried by the morning heat the next day, when Niner comes out of the house, she’s just a bit tipsy when she says, “Why should we have to clean out the car when we have these…” and from behind her back she pulls out Cheeto and Doogie.
I laughed I couldn’t believe she was serious. But she was. We rolled up the windows, threw the cats in and closed the door. We went inside the house ate our burritos, probably drank a beer or two, then went back out and checked on our little spot cleaners.
The car was immaculate, not a spot of cheese in site. Their little tongues were working double time as though we hadn’t fed them in a week. I was also too drunk to be too worried about how the litter box would smell for the next day or two, what was important is, those 2 little guys cleaned that car out way better than I or God knows Niner ever would have been able to.
Bitch never did clean the puke off of my car, had to finally do that myself. Or wait was it K-Dog (my other roommate) that puked out my car….eh, they probably both did at one time.

Chuck Fact: Peeing the bed

2008-08-05T07:54:00.000-07:00

A high tide means Chuck Norris is flying over your coast. The tide is caused by God pissing his pants.

I was babysitting for somebody once and spent the night over at their house because I was going to be watching the kids the whole weekend. While sleeping I had a dream that I got up went to the bathroom and all, well I woke up in the morning and realized I had actually wet the bed.
Luckily since they still had young kids they did happen to have one of these plastic protectors on the bed to keep the pee on the mattress, but they had one of those foam egg crate things that I ended up peeing on. So the whole next day I spent cleaning the sheets and spraying down the bed to keep anything from smelling like piss.
Peed my pants one other time as an adult as well.
I came back to my dorm room, my freshman year in college and was so drunk, I rationalized peeing the bed as to getting up and actually walking down the hall to the bathroom.
In my drunk head that night, it seemed like the best idea, not such a great idea the next day….

Going to the farm

2008-08-04T07:26:00.000-07:00

I used to have a cat when I was a kid, her name was Cuddles. She was a calico cat and we all liked her. And she got along well with my dog Fluffy.
I think Cuddles liked me, even though I almost killed her once. She was one of those cats that were always under you feet, well I was messing around one day and she was following me around as usual, and the day ended with Cuddles being put on a weeks worth of bed rest.
How it all happened was fairly innocent, but I felt like the fattest person ever after it happened.
We had this railing on the back porch that protected people from falling down the basement stairs. The railing was made of wood and was pretty solid, and I leaned on it and brought my feet up off the floor talking to whoever it was that went downstairs to the basement. When I hopped down off the railing little Cuddles ran under my feet and I landed on her and crushed her.
Oh the agony she must’ve been in…Oh the little pussy, she lived, but like I said, we had to make her this makeshift bed thing that would keep her from moving around she broke like her pelvis and some ribs or something. Or rather I broke her pelvis and some ribs.
She went on to even have a litter of kitties. She was a tough little pussy.
However once she had the kitties, my mom decided to ship her and her kitties off to the farm. (Now we really did ship her off to the farm, since we did know people that had farms) But now that I think about it, maybe my mom did have them all killed, cuz she said that as soon as she dropped Cuddles off she just took off and ran away, and no one has seen her. Ya I bet no one has seen her….
Being a kind of rural farm type of family I am actually a bit surprised by how willing my mom has been to take our family pets to the vet.
First there was Cuddles, then a few years later on Christmas Eve, came Fluffy.
Fluffy was a wondering dog, we never put her on a leash. She came inside at night and slept under my bed. We just called her name and sooner or later she would come running.
She had tags but no one ever had to call us, as she always came home.
We, as in my whole family, were spending Christmas Eve as we normally spent all Christmas Eves. We were at my G-ma Wittes house. Shortly after we got there the phone rang, it was my other Grandparents, informing my Dad that Fluffy had been hit by a car.
I was pretty upset, crying hysterically, because Dorkus (my brother) was on his way back into town to pick up Fluffy and take him out to shoot her, put her out of her misery.
See this is what normally happens when an animal gets hurt. You put them out of their misery. You don’t take them to the vet. But for some strange reason, maybe it was my hysterics or maybe my Mom just got in the Christmas Spirit, she let us save Fluffy and take her to the vet. Thing is, I had to stop my brother from taking her out to shoot her.
My sister, Ang and I jumped in a car and took off to catch Dorkus, we found him on his way out with Fluffy by his side, he was crying. Fluffy was really his dog, that’s why he wanted to be the one to take care of her. We informed him that we could take her to the vet, we could save her.
So we took her to the vet and she just needed some stitches, I think she may have broken some bones, but again we made up our makeshift bed and kept Fluffy on bed rest for a few days then she was fine.
I don’t know if it was from the surgery or if she was always like this, but she had this way of wagging her tail that she kinda would get so excited that she’d bring her ass to one side, wagging her tail furiously like she couldn’t control it.
And again Mom struck.
When we were remodeling our house, Treebee and I had to stay out at G-Pa and G-Ma Wittes house. While there Mom took Fluffy to the Humane Society. (Pet Pound) She thought we wouldn’t notice since she claims she was the only one that took care of her. (Well of course she was, Treebee and I weren’t even there) So she dropped her off, without asking us, or furthermore without even telling us she did.
We came by one weekend and asked “Hey Mom, where’s Fluffy”Let me tell ya took her a long time to answer that one. (I’m still pretty bitter about it)
Guess she didn’t want Fluffy messing up her new carpets….Ya, I know….

Tastes like chicken

2008-08-02T07:18:00.000-07:00

I kinda hate it when all I have for lunch is a bologna sandwich. No chips, no cookie no Jello Pudding Snack. Nothing. Just 2 pieces of white bread, one slice of cheese, and one slice of bologna and some mayo.
Now that is some cheap ass shiznet.
Yup I’m poor right now.
This whole poor thing is working well into my whole losing weight thing though. Not quite in the same as this little girl I was reading about who lost her parents in the Cyclone in Myanmar. But I am getting close.
I don’t think I’ll have to resort to cannibalism, but if My Hubby eats my turkey meat one more time I might have to resort to eating his ass.
I say ass because I’ve heard that the ass is the best part of the human to eat. I read Alive, and that’s what they ate first, nice juicy ass. (Alive is the story about that Uruguayan Rugby team that got stuck in the Andes Mountains in the 70’s.)
Alive is actually a good book; I’d suggest reading it to most people. Kinda makes you think about the lengths you would go to, to survive.
Personally I don’t think I would kill someone for their ass, but if they were already dead and I needed to eat, I think I would eat their ass. But only for survival, I’m not going to start walking by dead people and cutting off their asses or nothing, that’s gross.

And on the 5th day God created rain

2008-08-01T12:38:00.000-07:00

Ok so he didn't, but the alien vortex that was strategically located above my quiet and quaint little suburb must have moved because we actually got some rain.
Now finally I can take off brain protector and stop the strange looks I've been getting for the last 2 months.
And it was a good rain, it woke me up at about 4 a.m. with lightning flashing and thunder rolling.
I love that, I love it becuase it scares me and I have to reach over and grab my hubby, to make sure he is still there, and then snuggle in with him. Its probably one of the best feelings in the world.
I love waking up to a thunderstorm unless I actually have to get up. Thunderstorms and rain are like the best things to sleep into...oh man its getting me in the mood for fall and winter, with chilly mornings and overcast sky, the kind of days when coffee tastes the best.
Man I wish summer didn't last so damn long in this dang blasted state.

Songs for our President

2008-07-30T07:17:00.000-07:00

I wonder if every president has had as many songs disregarding their administration.
I honestly don’t remember if Clinton had a lot of song directed towards him. Surely there had to be some about his indiscretions in the Oval Office, but I definitely don’t remember any about how he ran the country.
Just off the top of my head I can think of four songs, which I like, and are written about our shitty president. (These are in no particular order)
1. Bright Eyes – When the President Talks to God
2. Pink – Mr. President
3. Dixie Chicks – Not Ready to Make Nice (which is more about how they dissed the president and the backlash they received afterwards)
4. NOFX – Idiot Son of an AssholeIt wouldn’t surprise me if there were more.
And I wonder if there are any good positive songs written about Mr. Bush?It also would not surprise me, if there are any positive songs, if they are by a country artist.

Yo Momma

2008-07-29T07:14:00.000-07:00

I just have to say for everyone to hear that 2names did not bring back “Yer Mom Jokes.”
She has tried to lay claim to them for a very long time and I figure it is time for me to proclaim for all to hear or read, that 2names had nothing to do with Chauncy, #1, Spanky and I using “Yer Mom Jokes.”
I have several pieces of evidence to substantiate my statement as well. First and foremost, 2names “Yer Mom Jokes” suck. And they are in no way the same league as the rest of us. Also they are a completely different style of “Yer Mom Jokes.” Which leads one to believe that 2names not only learned how to do YMJ somewhere else, but if she “started” it again, why aren't our YMJ style more like hers?
Furthermore, Chauncy, #1, Spanky and I have been rolling with the YMJ for quite some time, way before 2names came into the picture. They are especially funny to us, because we actually really know each others moms, like we have carried on conversations with each others moms. Our moms have worked together, and my dad works with Spanky’s mom. So the YMJ brings on a whole different connotation when we make a YMJ. And not only that it is hilarious when #1 does a YMJ to Chauncy, because they have the same mom. (alskjfdowifjea;lskdfjwoeifjaslkdjfe) (that’s internet laughter for those of you out of the loop)
Come to think of it, that is probably what brought YMJ back. We just thought it was hilarious to be referencing each others moms in very sexual manners.
And finally, I have known 2names for quite some time and I don’t remember her ever pulling out a YMJ until after she hung out with #1, Chauncy, Spanky and I. I know that 2names will forever attempt to claim that she brought back YMJ, and I may never be able to convince her otherwise, but at least the rest of us know the truth.

Oh the weather

2008-07-28T07:11:00.000-07:00

Besides watching true crime TV shows, sucking Mt. Dew through Twizzlers and eating popcorn with cold milk, I love to talk about the weather, read about the weather or watch the weather on TV.
Most people bring up the weather when they are in a conversation with someone and they don’t have anything else to talk about.
“So how’s the weather up there?”
“Oh it’s colder than a witches tit and wetter en your momma was on prom night.”
Now that’s all fine and dandy, but I actually ask about the weather and truly want to know what is going on. If it’s been windy, rainy, cold, snow all of it I want to hear it. Tell me about the next cold front coming in, or how many days until the jet stream will move to the north, tell me, talk to me about it, I will truly and honestly be fascinated by it.
Throughout the day, I find myself checking weather.com approximately 5-10 times in my 8 hour day. I love the satellite view as you can zoom in and out and see when a storm is directly over your house. It’s awesome. (It’s also awesome that “It’s awesome” is a complete sentence)
If a storm is coming in, I check WFAA.com and weather.com all the time; one might even say I’m obsessed.
However, I wouldn’t say that, I would just say that I like to stay informed.
I love thunderstorms, but they also scare me. I guess I just love things that scare me, because I love scary movies, they are my favorite. And one of my favorite TV shows is Supernatural, simply because it’s a short scary movie that I can watch every week, and it doesn’t hurt that the dudes on it are quite easy on the eyes if you know what I mean. (wink, wink)
2names said the other day she thought that I missed home, because I write a lot of stuff about C-Town. But I think its more I have some good memories from there, and they are funny to me, but I must admit one thing I miss about Nebraska…the snow storms. Or just real snow period.
But I do like that, since moving to Texass, not once have I walked outside in the winter and breathed in and immediately had the snot freeze in my nose. I don’t really miss that.
(Not that I usually count, but If I hadn’t added this part in parenthesis this little blog would’ve been exactly 400 words…now that’s scary)

John Deere Green

2008-07-27T07:03:00.000-07:00

Just got an email from an old friend today, it was just a forward, but I don’t mind just getting forwards because I know that they were thinking of me.
However it said that if I forwarded it on to 12 people I would have 12 years of good luck. Ya well I’ll take my chances, I didn’t forward it on to 12 people. I like living on the edge like that, tempting fate if you will.
So when ever I get an email from Pete, I always have a picture of her in my head. It’s pretty similar to what she looked like in high school. Strawberry blond hair, long and wavy she had, or probably still has the prettiest hair I have ever seen.
In high school Pete kept me current on the happening country music. I listened to pop music and kept her abreast on that, and she was down with the new Leanne Rimes or Tim McGraw, and made sure I stayed current with the country folk. She is really the reason I like country, or know anything about country music.
Well we loved the song by Tim McGraw, “Don’t Take the Girl.” And for some reason I came with her one day while she was out drivin tractor. I don’t remember exactly what we were doing but, I’ll just say, we were working a field, and I guess we were on a tractor that didn’t have a radio or something, because we spent our time singing to each other.
Well we had the whole song of “Don’t Take the Girl” memorized from beginning to end. Along with “John Deere Green” and Sir Mix-A-Lot’s “Baby Got Back” (which was my music choice at the time I guess)
So after singing “Don’t take the girl” a few times we decided to make up our own lyrics. Changing girl to turtle and we found a way to implement the nick-name of her now brother-in-law Geno into the mix as well. Yes we were an imaginative pair, that’s what happens when you’re alone together on a John Deere I guess.
Pete’s a good friend and just happens to be my cousin too. She’s a pretty strong chick as well. I spent the night at her house once during calving season. We were going to go horse riding the next day, and so we usually tried to get up fairly early to get going.
Well we had just woken up or maybe she had just woken up, she looks out the window and says “Oh crap!”
Next thing I know she’s down the stairs, out the door and in the cattle pen outside, helping her mom pull a calf. Yes that’s right PULL A CALF!
I sat upstairs looking out her bedroom window watching them tug and pull, in the early hours of the morning, it took a few minutes and then finally the little guy or girl (I don't know which) came out. She just dusted herself off, came back inside, and was ready to go.
She just helped give life that day and it was no big deal to her. I was impressed to say the least. And I realized how different our lives really were.
Granted I wasn’t exactly a city girl, but in a way, to her I kinda was.

Chuck takes no Sh*t from nobody

2008-07-26T06:56:00.000-07:00

They once made a Chuck Norris toilet paper, but there was a problem--It wouldn't take shit from anybody.

I was thinking that Chuck Norris toilet paper would be really hard and abrasive.
I personally like my tp to be pretty darn soft. But not so soft that it falls apart. Then that creates a whole other problem. Think dingle berries with cotton balls, really escalates the problem.
I really hate it actually when you realize you didn't wipe as well as you should have, and you leave the house, your walking around. And then it starts to creep up on you.
You butt starts to sweat and this seems to aggravate the problem then before you know it, your ass is in full fledged itch mode and there isn’t anything you can do about it, your only recourse is to do a thorough wiping and when your at the dog park (as was the case last weekend) there are no public bathrooms nearby.
Not only that but I have a problem with using public bathrooms…(but that’s another post altogether) I could reach down and do a little quick itch but then there are two outcomes of that indiscretion, first of all someone might see me, and secondly I don’t want my hand to smell of ass all day.
So my next course of action is subtlety. Make it itch itself. Walk with buttocks clenched, stand with hip sticking out, then switch, doing this several times. And then patiently as possible wait till I get back in the car and I can sit on my seat, this always seems to help that and doing a little jiggle while sitting.
Oh the agony! Now I can totally see why dogs rub their asses on the floor. I kinda wish I could do that. Or I could just make sure I wipe my ass real good before leaving the house.

Drunk Dialing

2008-07-25T06:40:00.000-07:00

I don’t do much drunk calling anymore.
On a rare occasion I will call 2names or #2, after I’ve been drinking. But they were probably drinking too, so I don’t feel so bad.
And we now have this new thing we do, where we’ll call each other up when we start drinking and drink a bottle of wine together. You know because no one likes to drink alone…we are really there for each other; we’ll take one for the team, so that our friends don’t feel like an alcoholic.
My sister Ang, however, she likes to drunk call me still. And, I must say, I love it. She called me yesterday around 6 p.m. (ya I think she was already drunk by then, though I wasn’t able to talk to her at that time) then she called me again around 9 p.m. I was watching Dateline it was of course a crime story about a wife that was charged for killing her husband, she ended up getting off. But I digress....
So back on the ranch…She was slurring her words a little bit; she had been drinking all day I presume. Why do I think this? Because she said she just got done doing the Road Rally.
What’s a Road Rally (RR)? Well a Road Rally is when a bunch of people go off on a scavenger slash clue hunt expedition, traversing the back roads in rural Nebraska.
The RR usually gets going around noon on a Sunday, (after everyone gets out of church, though this crew probably aren't coming from church, probably more like nursing a hangover from the night before).
From what I understand, they all start at a certain location and are given a clue. This clue leads them to another clue, and this goes on until you reach the final clue and the end of the journey. So I’ve heard and judging by my own sister’s lack of sobriety, this driving around also entails lots of drinking. I know quite illegal right? And so I asked my sister, “So do you guys ever see any cops while out doing this?”
“Cops?!!! Are you kidding?! We were travlin cross free counties…we were in Furnas, Frontier, and Gosper counties.”
“Oh well I mean I just thought, you know it’s a small enough area that the cops would be a little wise to the shenanigans and sit out there somewhere just waiting to pull over some drunk people searching for clues.” I said
“Oh no we were travlin cross free counties…we were in Ffurnas, Ffrontier, and Gospfer counties, ain’t no cops gonna find us.”
So I guess its safe, just a bunch of drunk ass people driving around the county side looking for their next mystery to solve.
Evidently one of the clues took her by my aunt and uncles house north of Cambridge. My aunt and uncle’s last name is Miller and the clue read something like this “Its Miller Time, although I don’t think these’s Miller’s will give you a beer.”
Ang was pretty proud that she was able to figure this one out on her own.
So the object of this Road Rally is to find all the clues the fastest and win some sort of a prize but evidently there is also a downside of winning.
“So did you win?” I ask.
“Oh no, no, no, no. Or at least I hope not, we don’t want to win, you win you got to put it on.”
Ok now I’m confused. “Put it on? What do you mean?”
“If you win you have to put it on…the next year. You have to organize it. We won two years ago, we ain’t doing that again. Oh and plus could you imagine, I live in McCook, Lisa lives in Indianola and blah blah blah lives in Culberston. No we don’t want to win, or at least I hope we didn’t win, I don’t know, I never got a call, so I think we lost, I think we lost big time," she says with a little chuckle
“Well that’s good then. So do you have to work tomorrow?”
“Oh yea, bright and early, I think I’m gonna eat my food then go to bed. I just wanted to give you my weekly call”
I kinda thought that sounded like a good idea.
“Well I’ll call ya next week.”
Ok good-bye Ang.

What we did for fun

2008-07-23T06:15:00.000-07:00

Growing up in a small town has its advantages and it definately has its disadvantages.
We didn't have a movie theater, no malls, no fast food (but the Pizza Hut truck did come on Thursdays) and we didn't have the luxary of getting away with crap, since everyone knew who you were. But we did find ways to have fun.
I think living in a small town, makes a kid a bit more imaginative and more apt to try something new. We were prone to boredom so there was always a challenge to find something to do, things most city kids probably never dreamed they would do or even heard of.

Ditch em' - This is where you drive around in your car, usually erratically trying to "Ditch" the person following you. Think tag in cars. Usually played at night.

Car Water Fights - Get a couple of groups of people, load them up in a few cars and get buckets of water, tons of water balloons and squirt guns, drive around trying to get eachother.

Walk the Highway - This has nothing to do with prostitution. This entails walking up and down the highway, talking with a friend usually just in groups of 2 or 3. With Nicole we were always searching for pennies on the ground as well. When I was much younger my friend Jennifer and I would dress up in Old Time Dresses (sirca 1800's) and walk the highway between our houses showing off our outfits.

Hanging out at Gas n' Shop - This is what it is, sitting at Gas n' Shop talking to friends.

Haning out at the Deli - Same thing just at a different location

Tubing - This was done in the summer, and we'd jump in at the Creek and get out at Diversion Dam, about a 2 or 3 mile stretch, took about 2 hours. We'd do this while the water was high. Once or twice we did it soley on the river and brought an extra tube for a cooler with beverages...You would die if you tried to drink while doing this on the Creek, so we only did it on the river, as it never was more than 3 ft deep and flowed real slow.

River Rat Volleyball - Playing volleyball in a river. Way harder than you imagine, as the drunker you get the harder it is to stand up.

Barrel Rolling - This was only done one night. But it entails grabbing construction barrels and putting them outside of our teachers doors and driveways.

Cruising - Driving the approximately 2 mile stretch between the park and the hospital.

Ice Skating - In an actual frozen pond outside.

Breaking into the school - Well we'd break into the school and then play hide-and-seek inside.

Jumping Terraces - On a four wheeler, we'd take it out in the fields, we build up speed ramp off the terrace and try not to get killed.

Sledding - They block off a street in town specifically so kids can go snow sledding on it.

Bike Trails - riding the bike trails and ramps down by the Creek.

The fort at the Creek - Some crazy kid built this elaborate fort down by the Creek, and he would guard it and not let anybody in. So we took our BB guns down there and took it over, actually I don't think he was around one certain day, so we took it over...it really wasn't a hostile takeover or anything. The kid wasn't there, so we spent the day hunting Joel Saylor with BB guns on the Creek.

Kick the Can - Similar to Hide-n-Seek, except you hide and then the person who is "it" tried to find those hiding and has to beat them back to the can before anyone kicks it over.

Tennis in the Street - it is what it is, playing tennis in the street.

Pennies on the RR Tracks - we'd tape pennies on the tracks and then come back later to see if they got smashed.

War - We'd break into groups and spend the day running around the neighborhood and hiding in peoples yards, basically just trying not to get caught by anyone else.

I'm sure I did lots of other stupid things, sometimes I think I was lucky to have survived both the boredom and the stupidity. Also pretty lucky I didn't get thrown in jail for a few things too.

My Flaire

2008-07-22T08:55:00.000-07:00

My Flaire, doesn't have anything to do with wearing pins to express myself, it has to do with my doggie.

Flaire is a mix dog, but most people would say he is Pit Bull mixed with something, he has the best markings, cuz he has a patch over his eye and I love that.

I don't like to be one of those people that talks about their dog all the time, but I thought he was worth mentioning.

One of my favorite things about him is he plays fetch. He won't usually play for very long because he gets distracted but he does play.

My other favorite thing is how when he wants attention or maybe the food that you are eating...he'll rest his chin on your thigh and look up at you, with the biggest puppy dog eyes. I just love it.

Of course I don't give him the food, but I usually say "look how cute, and then I pat his head."

Fall come back to me

2008-07-21T08:02:00.000-07:00

This is the time of year when TV sucks in my opinion. I’m kinda ready for fall to be here, so some decent sports are back on.
I can’t really stand to watch baseball on TV. It’s probably more boring to me than watching golf.
More importantly the Huskers will be back in the fall, and I am looking forward to a better season than last year. I’d say they can’t be much worse, but I’m sure they can before things get better.
This is completely true especially if you are a Mavs fan.
I did go to the library on Saturday. Figure since TV sucks and I haven’t read anything in a while I would check something out. I love having a library card, really makes me feel like I belong somewhere for some strange reason.
I picked up a couple of Stephen King books that I haven’t read yet. I got “Dreamcatcher” and another one that I haven’t heard of before “Duma Key”.
All this anticipation for fall sports to start, was spurred by the recent hub bub over Brett Favre’s announcement that he wants to be released from his contract. So it sounds like he wants to come out of retirement. And while I’d love to see Brett win a super bowl. I wish he would just retire. He won’t win a super bowl without being in Greenbay, and if he is able to go somewhere else and be a starter I don’t think it will be long before he stumbles and our memory of him a bit tarnished.
Its kinda like when Jordan retired then played for the Wizards for a little bit, you could tell he had lost a step, and in some respects had people saying, “well maybe he isn’t the greatest to ever play the game.” To me that is sad. Because in my opinion Jordan was the best and Brett is definitely up there with the greats.
The thing about Brett is you love his heart and he plays for a team in a town filled with big hearts. And to me that should be the way it stays.
Unless, like my Hubby suggests, he comes to Dallas to mentor Romo, then I’d be ok with it.

I'm not a liar

2008-07-21T06:11:00.000-07:00

That's right, I'm not a liar.
I have what is called Middle Child Syndrome accompanied by an over active imagination, and this is why sometimes the way I recall something is not exactly the same as everyone elses.
So, I have not made up memories about my childhood, that is just simply the way I remember it. (I have recently found out that some of my memories from childhood aren't exactly they way things happened, however they could just be telling me that to make themselves feel better about the way I was treated and neglected) Middle Child Syndrome can also be called The Forgotten Child Syndrome.
We are often left alone to our own devises and not that we look for trouble, but often trouble found us. Also all this time being alone tended to lead to a child making up the life that the rest of the family has left them out of. Evidently I did this a lot.
As a kid having a pop was a real treat, Mom never bought pops at the grocery store. We either drank milk, water or orange juice. We also rarely ate out, actually we never ate out as kids, so there was no ordering a pop at a restaruant either. So getting to have a pop was huge in our house.
One day while playing alone outside, as usual, I began to trace out the names that were etched into the sidewalk from the previous owners, "Kim & Jason", as I was sitting there alone with nothing but my thoughts, my parents roll up on the street with everone in the truck with them. The street is about 50 feet away, and they are in a diesel pick-up and I can't hear what they are yelling at me aver the sound of the rumbling engine. They are saying something to me but I just can't hear.
I keep asking "what?" and putting my arms out and shaking my head, you know the common gesture for "I can't hear you and I don't understand what you want from me" after a few seconds or minutes of this, they left. I shrugged my shoulders and continued tracing the names...
A while later everyone appeared again. All with thier own pops. Did they get one for me? Nope.
Evidently they were yelling at me to hurry up and get in the truck, because we are all going to go to Gas n' Shop and get pops. But I didn't hear them. And they left without me and didn't even bother to pick up a pop for me.
As I explained before pops were a big, huge deal in my house. And I had to sit there and watch everyone suck down their pops while I drank my damn milk! I was in first or second grade when this happened to the best of my recollection. And apparently it never happened, I made it all up. My Mom says she would never leave her 7 or 8 year old alone at the house. But I think she is lying.
People often ask me how I can be a middle child when there are four siblings? Simple I explain, Ang is the oldest, Dork, is the only boy, then there is me, another girl, then Treebee, the baby. Hence I am the middle child.
Now this isn't to say that a middle child is a bad kid, or a trouble maker. No generally they are the opposite. They are usually attention getters, but they do it with comedy, or what they deem as comedy. They will often be the jokesters in the family, and they are often the ones that smooth things over in the family. Typically the middle child gets along with all family members and are often considered the favorite child.
Yes, the favorite child. How do I know? Because my Mother told me so and everyone else.

Nothing to be pissed about

2008-07-19T14:14:00.000-07:00

So I was informed that one of my friends was upset at learning that I wrote something about them. I'm not going to name any names - names.
This did get me thinking that I have left some others out a bit and I thought maybe it was time to include some of the other characters in my life.
I don't like to use my friends real names, just incase one of them decides to become president or something, oh wait nevermind, nothing my friends have done is worse than what the last few presidents have done and definately no worse than some of the stuff the possible future presidents or thier wives have done. So I don't think anything I say will tarnish anyones reputation. (Sweet I now have total freedom) .
But I'm still not going to use names.
So I will call him "Number 2 Son of my Favorite Mom"...#2 for short (alskdfjowiefja;lskdfjwoef)
Ok so I went to visit #2 in the town where the state capital was located. This was also the summer I was living with my parents.
So I made the trip to Stinkin Lincoln and hung out with #2. We of course were partaking in the smokage of some cheez. (this was our special nickname for something, that had absolutely nothing to do with heroine mixed with tylonol pm) And we somehow started watching "Dude Where's My Car." Its a great movie to watch while enjoying cheez.
#2 and I were alone this night as everyone else (that is The Number 1 Son of my Favorite Mom, #2's brother, The Bitch and Spanky) were at a Dave Matthews concert.
#2 and I weren't going to go becuase we wanted to go a Blink 182 concert the next day in Kansas City, which was about a 3 hour drive away.
So we hung out for a while, then finally passed out for the night. We woke up the next morning, very late morning I'm sure and headed out to Kansas City.
#2 and I have this strange thing that happens to us when we are in a car together, we always get lost. And I'm sure it has nothing to do with the mass quantities of cheez we consume whilst driving, but it never fails we always lose our way.
Well on this particular trip we not only lost our way, but I think we lost a little bit of our minds as well. After a brief episode in the car of losing our way and me laughing so hard that #2 thought I was going to die we make our way to the concert. We park our car and make our way in to hang out with the hords of people bouncing thier heads to the sweet tunes of our favorite punk bands. As the day wore on and the shows winded down, it was time for #2 and I to leave.
We walked out of the concert talking about how cool it was, and how much better Blink is than Dave, when we realized we had been walking for a while and hadn't come upon my car.
"Dude where's my car?" I asked not to anyone really in particular.
"Where's your car dude?" #2 asked as well. We both stop, look around and think that maybe we just walked passed it. We continue this march up and down the rows of cars.
"Dude where is my car?"
"Where is your car dude?" At first it was kinda funny, since we had just watched a movie in which the main characters lost their car after a night of drinking and partying with various people.
However, #2 and I had not lost track of time, and we were pretty sure we drove my car to the concert and parked it in this parking lot. So we were quite perplexed.
I started trying to use my remote keyless entry devise to see if I could spot it if I pushed the alarm button, thinking that the blasting horn and blinking headlights would catch our attention.
We continued to walk, up and down, over, up and down, to no avail. That stupid car had to be there somewhere, and we had to find it. It wasn't like we could just have someone pick us up. We were 3 hours from Lincoln.
After about 30 minutes, the parking lot started to clear out, then after about 45 minutes, a green Chevy Cavelier was the only car left in the lot.
Oh there she is...there is G-Ride. (I called it G-Ride becuase it was green, not becuase of any erotic references)
So finally we were back on the road. We decided that maybe next time we wouldn't have so much cheez before a concert and maybe things would turn out better for us. Alas we would never find out if that was the case as cheez is really more of a staple for us, and you know, there isn't anything wrong with that.
#2 and I did decide we had a much better time than the losers that went to Dave, even though we got lost, lost the car and thought I died from laughing too hard.
See a good time isn't always defined by what happens but how a persons responds and accepts what is happening. Good times are always relative. Ahhhhh Good Times....

Skeeter Bites

2008-07-18T08:08:00.000-07:00

I really hate skeeter bites.
I'm sure there aren't many who do like them. But they are literally a pain in the ass. I think I even have one on my ass. Damn thing must've bit me through my clothes.
I put the repellent on, had a citranella candle out, I did everything right and still my body is overrun with skeeter bites. I think the one that is most annoying is the one on the bottom of my foot. Its annoying enough to have an itch in the foot region that after some time can be calmed down. But when a person has a skeeter bite there, there is no calming it down. Its always there, always on my mind.
The way I see it, I have about 2 more months to deal with the pesky sons of bitches. I do have one more trick up my sleeve, I've heard dryer sheets work to fend them off, so I think I will try it next time.
What I hate about the Texass skeeters is they bite you and your still feeling the pain like a week later. Seems to me the Nebrasky skeeter bites went away after just a few hours.
Ugh, I don't know I could be making it up, but that's the way I remember it.On a side note, something I just remembered. I think when I was a kid, we called our boobies skeeter bites.

My Addiction

2008-07-16T14:09:00.000-07:00

I have an addiction.
Well I actually have a few, but don't they always say that admitting there is a problem is the first step towards recovery?
My first addiction is to twirling my hair. I seriously can't stop. The thought of never twirling my hair again...well I'm sorry I can't even imagine it. I've been twirling since I was a very young child. I'm not sure exactly when I started, but I do vaguely remember having short hair and not liking it when the bottom of it curled out, so I would twirl it back in. And now even as I write this I sit and twirl as I think of the next thing to say.
I twirl when I drive, I twirl when I read, when I watch TV, I even twirl when I carry on conversations whether in person or on the phone. If my hands are idle they quickly gravitate to my hair and the twirling begins.
I once even cut my hair very short to try to curb my addiction to twirling, but no, it did no good. I actually love the way my hair feels once I get a haircut, so it actually can make it worse.
My second addiction which is probably not as annoying to outsiders and many people may not know this about me, but I am addicted to crime stories. Specifically to murder, serial killers, gruesome mutilating deaths and severe pedophiles.
I really don't know what the fascination is, it probably does have some hidden deeper meaning. I myself never had an urge to act out any of these things I see or read. More I'm fascinated with the type of people that do these sort of things. And I want to know why they do these terrible things.
I guess really I am more enamoured with the person that commits a gruesome crime because I want to get inside thier head and figure out what makes people do such horrible things to another human being.
Sick fucks interest me for some strange reason.
Now don't get me wrong I don't "like" them, its more of I want to know about something I don't understand. And I've come to accept that this is the way I am.
My first term paper I ever wrote was on serial killers, back in the 11th grade.

Tumble Dry

2008-07-12T14:04:00.000-07:00

Warning the following is not for the faint of heart...and 2names this might bring back bad memories....

Summer's in Brasky could get quite warm, hot you might say. Even though we were in Northeast Brasky, not being accustomed to high temps all year round, we tended to melt after a few 90 degree days. As was the case the summer of 2000, but just when the temps started to heat up, a storm started brewing and sizzled it all out.
We were in Wayne, America, that's what the water tower said, as we sat on 2names' back patio enjoying a smokie treat, in the middle of the day. It was one of those lazy days, and no one seemed to have anything to do. Or maybe we did but we decided not too. Either way a few of us had gathered to waste some time toghether.
I distinctly remember 2names was doing her laundry, she evidently was the only one of us with any sort of agenda, and I also remember the smell of dead animal creeping up. You know how it does when the weather gets warm and it's almost like something must've dethawed, the flies finally found it and the wind picks up and lifts it just right, the dead stench seems to hang in the air....that's how this was. But no one thought anything of it. It was a fairly common smell in rural America.
Later in the day, the group dispersed to run errands, or just maybe to get away for a while. I came back to 2names house and she was there looking for Telly. Telly is a kitty 2names adopted, me and Niner also adopted 2 kitties from the same litter, so they were all brothers.
Well 2names hadn't seen Telly for a while and was afraid he might have ran away. The search began, although it didn't take long to figure out what had happened to Telly. I can't remember if it was 2names that found him or if she just realized what might have become of him, and made someone else look. But unbeknownst to 2names Telly met his fate, wrestling for life between socks, jeans and t-shirts.
Yes Telly took his last breath, inhaling fabric softener in the dryer at 2names' home. So that smell from before wasn't some animal thawing on a warm summer day, no unfortunately it was Telly getting fluffed in the dryer.
She was devastated, as anyone might be. She couldn't even look in the dryer. The way we figure he either jumped in while she was changing loads and she just didn't notice or, he somehow crawled up through the exhaust hose that went to the outside.
Niner came to the rescue (a true cat lover) and pulled Telly out, cleaned the dryer of any trace of the deceased feline and put him in a box for 2names.
2names along with Tom buried Telly that night along a dirt road, in a pasture. She tried to visit him again, but the rain had washed his grave away.
You know it really sucked what happened to Telly, and I felt bad becuase 2names felt so bad. But honestly when I think about it, and I'm an animal lover, its well...let me just say that little guy probably thought it was going to be so much fun and he'd have the time of his life when he jumped in that dryer.
Kinda like when you go on one of those spinning rides at the fair right after eating a ton of cotton candy and drinking a gallon of pop. Your excited, you can tell something big is about to happen, then the ride starts up and your getting jerked around and the ride starts picking up speed, and your thinking "oh this isn't so bad" then it picks up more speed, you get those little butterflies in your stomach, but then things start to change very quickly and panic takes over as the ride disorients you beyond all your recollections of normalcy, your heart drops down to your stomach, and you realized that the thing is just going faster and faster and faster, and it starts to sink in that the stupid thing is never going to stop.
Slowly you start to get hotter and hotter and your mouth is watering and all you see is blurs wizzing past, the distinct taste of cotton candy begins to creep back up only this time it doesn't taste the same as when it went down...you try to maintain control but then your body takes over and tries to expell all demons in an attempt to establish some form of equalibrium. Condensed and highly moisturized with Root Beer, brown cotton candy spews out of your mouth splashing the six people beside you on the ride. If they weren't screaming before, they are surely screaming in disgust now, and yelling to stop the ride before a puke fest ensues....
That's what I think it was like for Telly, except everything stopped before he was able to be humilated in front of all his friends.

Aliens Exist

2008-07-08T13:59:00.000-07:00

Ok I know some people out there don't believe in aliens or that life exists in alternate universes, but I'd like to say to those that don't believe...your stupid. *sticks tongue out turns walks away very snotty like*
I'd like to say that the following may make me sound crazy, but I am not, I am a perfectly rational human, however besides being addicted to true crime TV shows, I also dabble in conspriracy theories and enjoy reading about pedophiles. I repeat this does not make me crazy or I pedophile (or at least I hope not).
First of all, I don't know when my fascination with extraterrestrial life came about, it sort of always been there. I just can't fathom there not being something else out there and I'm am naturally aroused and amused by things I don't understand or know everything about.
With space, it is (as far as we know) literally endless. And I'm not even using literally in a figurative sense, it is in a literal sense. So someone please tell me, how we are the only planet out there with living organism on it, I'm sorry I just don't believe it.
Not only that but if you read the news, and I'm not even referring to the freaky deaky news, there are hundreds of stories about unexplained sightings of objects flying in the air, crazy things falling out of the sky and even sightings caught on video. Of course the government has explanations for many of them, most of the time the "explanations" are so bogus, and only unless your a complete dumbass would you actually believe that the government is telling the truth. I am willing to believe that some supposed alien sightings could very well be secret government testing of equipment that they don't want the common Joe to know about and more importantly other countries. B
ut I also have a hard time believing that we aren't in contact with aliens, or at least have some knowledge of them.

http://www.cnn.com/2008/US/01/23/airforce.ufo/index.html

http://www.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/europe/05/14/britain.ufos/index.html?iref=newssearch

Now I know there are those that don't care about space and what we do out there. I'm actually more interested in the stuff we don't know about, there lies the truth.
Are we really alone? I'm sorry I just don't think so.

Blowing stuff up

2008-07-07T07:49:00.000-07:00

The Hubby and I spent our first 3 day weekend together mostly at home. And it was great.
July 4th, we did go over to the English People's House then later we attended Rina's (MIL) get together. We decided not to stay and watch the fireworks show at Firewheel, instead we drove home and ended up passing out before Midnight, cuz we are such party animals.
Then on Friday, the 5th, we did some stuff around the house, made a briskit, and hung out together.
When the sun went down, we live far enough on the edge of town, that we could see people lucky enough to live outside of the city limits shooting off fireworks from our back patio. I guess The Hubby got a little jealous of those shooting off thier own fireworks and after a few beers and a few glasses of wine for me, we decided that blowing some stuff up, sounded like a good idea.
Lucky for us we watered our lawn earlier in the day (becuase we probably would have started it on fire, it was quite dry).
We started with sparklers, then went on to these things that spun and then took off up in the air, tried to light off a few things that were supposed to sparkle on the ground but they just lit on fire.
Also had a few, I'd call them M-80's, you know big firecracker that is really loud...but none of them went off. Duds...
The stuff we had was about 3 years old. We did have some fun with our worms...worms are great, light them on fire and watch them grow.
We didn't light our lawn on fire and we didn't get arrested, turned out to be a pretty ok evening.

Don't make me cry

2008-07-06T13:53:00.000-07:00

Chuck Norris has to use a stunt double when he does crying scenes.

I'm not much of a cryer either.
Not to say that I don't ever cry, but the tears, they are few and far between for me.
I don't cry at sappy movies, although I do know people that cried while watching King Kong (not going to name any names, he knows who he is).
I don't typically cry when I'm in pain. I cry mostly when I get really pissed off, or when being forced to say something hard to say to someone when having a serious conversation.
I sometimes cry when my feelings are hurt. And I cry when I lose someone I love.
I don't know why I do it, but sometimes when I'm sick and I have to tell someone that I'm sick, like a boss or when I was a kid my mom, I will start crying. I think becuase I don't like to admit when I'm sick. And I feel like such a loser having to say that I'm sick and I have to stay or go home. It really very strange and I can't control it.
Mostly I cry when I'm pissed. So don't piss me off. Also don't piss on me. I might cry, but I'll definately kick your ass and so will Chuck.

The Bomb

2008-07-02T13:50:00.000-07:00

My first car was called "The Bomb" Mostly becuase it was blue, old and sometimes sounded like a bomb.

Not to be confused with "Da Bomb" becuase that it most certainly was not.

The Bomb was a hand-me-down, from my my parents to my older sister, then to my brother, then to me. I know it was a 1976 Dodge, and I think it was a Royal Manoco. (It looked pretty much like the picture, except the bomb was faded blue, and it had a white vinyl top or whatever you call that)

There was no air-conditioning, no FM radio, and no cassette player. Oh and when you did turn the radio on it just made a high pitched squealing sound. One of my friends dubbed The Bomb, the Squirrel Meat Machine, because he thought it sounded like squirrels were killing themselves in an attempt to make my car run when you did attempt to turn on the AM dial.

So to bring the tunes to my car we usually carried along a walkman with some speakers or a ghettoblaster. (Oh yea)

Cruising in The Bomb was pretty cool, I could fit 8 of my friends pretty easily and she had the smoothest ride going over hills and the Bartley Bumps.(Some interesections in a neighboring town that had some extreme DIPS in them that no matter how fast you were going you would't bottom out)

The Bomb however said her final good-byes the summer before my senior year. My parents sold her to someone wanting to use her in a demolition derby at the county fair. The ol' girl did pretty good too, until her tranny dropped and then she got pummelled.

Sometimes it just hits you

2008-07-01T13:46:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting in my little cubicle today and it just sort of hits me. I have been at this job for over 2.5 years. I'm actually only 4 months away from my 3 year mark.
This doesn't mean I'm fully vested yet in my 401K, nor does it come with a higher rate of pay, furthermore, I won't get to pick out a present from the company for reaching said milestone.
No, October 3 will probably come and go without much hooplah... But for me it signifies the longest I have held a full-time job ever.
Now this is not to say that 3 years is the longest amount of time I have been employed. No, no, no...I have held various jobs, actually quite a large variety of of jobs, this is just the longest I have stayed with one company. Which also goes hand in hand with my living conditions.
This is the longest I have stayed in one place since highschool.
My working life started out probably a little younger than most, as I took over my sister's paper route when I was in third grade. 63 papers had to be delivered every day except Sunday.
The route started right after school and I usually made it back home around 5:30 or 6 p.m. every night. And on Saturday's the delivery was in the morning.
I did this for about 3 years. And I think I can count on one hand the amount of times one of my parents drove me around, because of heat, rain or snow.
I actually think it was just once.
I delivered those papers, in 100 degree heat, through downpouring rain and minus 20 degrees with blowing wind and snow. And never thought twice about it.
Luckily for me, about half way through my route, was the business section, in which I was able to enter air-conditioned buildings, or heated buildings on the very roughest of days. And most people allowed me a moment or so of rest before going back out.
I of course had my "buddies" on my route, those that I would stop and chit chat with for a few moments every day, unless of course I was trying to beat a quickest time or something. (Occassionaly I would see how fast I could get my route done, by riding my bike and sprinting to the doors for delivery, I wasn't allowed to "throw" the paper.)
First on my route was Mr. Goodenburger, he owned the barber shop, and he was the father of one of my classmates. Then I had the receptionist at the gas company (I can't remember her name but she was very nice) Then Stu, he was a bookkeeper of some sort, Then I stopped in at the lighthouse on my way home. (I had to quit stopping there as Nanner Nose was getting a little too friendly with me as I got older[on another side note Nanner Nose was the town window peep])
The hardest place to deliver was the ceramic shop. When you walk in the door of this place it is floor to ceiling of shelves filled with ceramic figurines. And the walking space between shelves wasn't very wide. And I had to go through there with my carrier pack on, which consisted of a big bag on the front and a big bag on the back that I wore over my head, usually filled with newspapers. I had to walk into the shop lay the paper on the counter then deftly turn around and carefully walk back out. Making sure not to let the bags swing too much and knock a breakable off the shelf.
Overall, I hated the paper route. I didn't make a lot of money, because I let some people slide with thier monthly payments. (Yes I had to collect the money for the paper) I hated confrontation, still do actually.
And I didn't get to sit at home watching "Saved by the Bell" and "Ricky Lake" like all my friends did.
I also attribute the paper route to the demise of my money handling skills. As I was the owner of a checking account at a very early age, and learned the skill of floating checks while others were still begging mom and dad for the cash.
I just wrote a check and hoped money would magically appear in the account. And most of the time the money didn't appear and my mom would find the overdraft notice and come yell at me. Though I never learned my lesson.
And lastly, I hated that my hands were always black with the print. You couldn't get away with touching anything. One time, one of my business customers told me I needed to quit picking my nose. I didn't know what he was talkin about until I got home and looked in the mirror and saw that my nose was all black.