Happy New Year!

I hope everyone had a glorious Chriskwanznnakah!

So does anyone have exciting plans for New Years?

My plans will be at the hospital... but not in a bad way. R has to work that night, so I am driving over to hang out and especially so I can give him a big smooch at midnight. Little does he know that I plan on embarrassing him by wearing a Happy New Year tiara and plopping a top hat on his head. I'm also bringing sparkling apple cider - I would love to have the real sparkling stuff (well, the bastardized American version of the sparkling stuff - hey... I'm not picky), but I think him drinking alcohol during his shift would be a bad, bad thing.

Still here

I'm still here, just been extremely busy with work and Christmas... just like everyone else.

My house gets invaded by my relatives in 3 days.

I'm actually surprised with how caught up I am on everything - I need to put laundry away and vaccuum and mop, but otherwise the house is basically done. I need to pick up a couple more Christmas presents, but otherwise I'm basically done with that, too. The tree is put up, so the living room even looks festive.

Of course, I'm still planning on some major decorating on Thursday after I get paid... so we'll see how unpanicked I am later in the week. heh

So anyway... I am signing off until after Christmas, so Happy Holidays to you and yours, Internet!

Friday Friday Friday

Today is my office Christmas Party. In the Warehouse out back. With lots of alcohol.

This should prove interesting...

*****************************************

These gave me a giggle:

If cats of single women could talk...

A self-righteous asshole...

And a universal truth...

Happy HNT!

Happy HNT, everybody! See the button on the right.


Wow, my eyes look really green in this.*

Meow!

*Again, taken at work today with my cell phone. I am all kinds of disorganized and wait until the last second with most things... but I have all kinds of cool toys at my desk.

A Little Political Humor

Not that I discuss politics on this blog...

A guy called another guy, "the fat little brother in Florida" recently.

It was in the political arena.

Know who it was?

Fidel Castro

talking about

Jeb Bush

God, that cracks me up.

But my all time favorite is still Dick Cheney telling Trent Lott to go fuck himself... on the Senate floor.

Snoooow

We got our first snow fall last night. It was wasn't very much, thank god. I'm really just not fond of snow.

But here is someone who is:

Mercurial musings

Like most American females, I like to read my horoscope. Also, like most American females, I only pay attention to it if it seems to fit me, but blow it off when it doesn't.

I think the horoscope gods and godesses are teaching me a lesson. (This is going to make me sound like a loon, but fuck it - I don't care what you all think anyway. kidding)

Here is a portion of my horoscope (Virgo), according to Susan Miller.

Mercury will be retrograde from November 14 to December 3, always a difficult phase for you, for Mercury rules your sign. That means you tend to feel Mercury's movements more directly than most signs. Mercury is troublesome for shopping the whole time during its retrograde phase, for this planet rules commerce. It also rules shipping, transportation, writing, editing, speaking, negotiating, and doing research and contracts, to name a few areas.

I've had several minor things go wrong and one major thing. What is that major thing?

I have OVER ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS missing from my checking account. Just in time for Christmas!

Oh... I know where it is ( it was an accounting mistake made by my car insurance company that is being fixed as we speak...) but it has taken two weeks for them to get this sorted out.

First they said they would automatically deposit it back in my account and it would show up in 2 or 3 days. When 2 days passed, I called them back. They said they had cut a paper check instead.

So I waited for it to come in the mail.

And waited and waited.

So yesterday rolled around, and still no check. So I called them again. They said the first check had been cancelled and they sent a second check. No idea why. Ok. But I still didn't have the check. I told them I would wait one more day for it to come in the mail.

Today is the day.

So what happens? I get a phone call 5 minutes ago telling me that they went ahead and AUTOMATICALLY redeposited it on MONDAY and it should show up today or tomorrow. So when I get the paper check, it needs to be destroyed.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!

Mercury, next time, I like kisses and lube before I get anally screwed.

Giving thanks

Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays - mainly because it isn't a "you must buy these gifts or you're a failure" commercial bullshit holiday. It's a time for friends and family to gather together and enjoy each other's company.

I know this time of year is the cause of alot of family drama for alot of people... but fortunately I'm not one of them. I've been lucky in the fact that my family (immediate and extended) has always gotten along famously and always treasured the few times during the year when we COULD actually get together and catch up. I haven't seen most of my extended family in a loooong time - 6 years, I think. I miss them.

I'm thankful for so many things, big and small. Mostly:

having healthy, happy children (who are crazy but I love them anyway)
having someone to share my life with that loves me as much as I love him (and provides other perks)
having a family that loves and supports each other (spread to the four-winds, but still there)
having friends that love and support each other (my extended family)
having a good job that provides for things for me and my family (where I can sneak in a blog entry here and there)
having a warm house and plenty of food to eat (if I'm not too lazy to cook it, otherwise, takeout is a godsend)

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all. I hope you are as blessed as I am.

My number is up!

This is interesting, and it actually fits me. heh

You entered: 9/20/1972

Your date of conception was on or about 29 December 1971 which was a Wednesday.

You were born on a Wednesday
under the astrological sign Virgo.
Your Life path number is 3.

The Julian calendar date of your birth is 2441580.5.
The year 1972 was a leap year.

As of 11/22/2005 3:58:40 PM EST
You are 33 years old.
You are 398 months old.
You are 1,731 weeks old.
You are 12,116 days old.
You are 290,799 hours old.
You are 17,447,998 minutes old.
You are 1,046,879,920 seconds old.
Your age is the equivalent of a dog that is 4.74207436399217 years old. (You're still chasing cats!)

There are 302 days till your next birthday
on which your cake will have 34 candles

3

The number 3 Life Path is one that emphasizes expression, sociability, and creativity as the lesson to be learned in this life. Here we are apt to find the entertainers of the world, bright, effervescent, sparkling people with very optimistic attitudes. A truly gifted 3 possesses the most exceptional creative skills, normally in the verbal realm, writing, speaking, acting, or similar endeavors. The lesson to be learned with a 3 life path is that of achievement through expression. The bright side of this path stresses harmony, beauty and pleasures; of sharing your creative talents with the world. Capturing your capability in creative self-expression is the highest level of attainment for this life path. The characteristics of the 3 are warmth and friendliness, a good conversationalist, social and open. A good conversationalist both from the standpoint of being a delight to listen to, but even more importantly, one who has the ability to listen to others. Accordingly, the life path 3 produces individuals who are always a welcome addition to any social situation and know how to make others feel at home. The creative imagination is present, if sometimes latent, as the 3 may not be moved to develop his talent. The approach to life tends to be exceedingly positive, however, and your disposition is almost surely sunny and open-hearted. You effectively cope with all of the many setbacks that occur in life and readily bounce back for more. It is usually easy for you to deal with problems because you can freely admit the existence of problems without letting them get you down. You have good manners and seem to be very conscious of other people's feelings and emotions. Life is generally lived to the fullest, often without much worry about tomorrow. You are not very good at handling money because of a general lack of concern about it. You spend it when you have it and don't when you don't.

On the negative side, a 3 may be so delighted with the joy of living that the life becomes frivolous and superficial. You may scatter your abilities and express little sense of purpose. The 3 can be an enigma, for no apparent reason you may become moody and tend to retreat. Escapist tendencies are not uncommon with the 3 life path, and you find it very hard to settle into one place or one position. Guard against being critical of others, impatient, intolerant, or overly optimistic.

Typically, the life path 3 gives an above-average ability in some art form. This can encompass painting, interior decorating, landscaping, crafts, writing, music, or the stage, or all of the above. You are apt to be a happy, inspired person, constantly seeking the stimuli of similar people. Your exuberant nature can take you far, especially if you are ever able to focus your energies and talents.

King of the Jungle MY ASS

This just makes me chuckle. heh

Redneck Roots

So, if I haven't told ya'll already (what readers I have left, that is), I think of myself as southern with an educated northern edge and a potty mouth that has only gotten worse with age.

I consider myself to have all the good qualities of the south (good manners, laid-back attitude, good cook, kind to children and old people and animals, etc.) but minus the bad qualities (ignorance, bigotry, and conservatism).

*Please send hatemail to the address on the right.*

I was watching Comedy Central this past weekend and there was a stand-up comedian that was remarking about how he was originally from Alabama. And when counting in Alabama, you only need 3 numbers... one, two, and a shitload (pronounced shhheeeeitload).

This made me laugh.

But then it got me thinking...

Hey... I say that!

"I have a shitload of work to do."

"I have a shitload of Girl Scout Cookies in my living room."

"I have a shitload of respect for that guy."

I really DO say it. A lot. I say "a shitload" shitloads of times thruout the day!

What exactly is a shitload? I don't even want to begin to speculate.

All I have to say is that I am appalled at my lack of verbal finesse when it comes to expressing amounts of things. I have lost respect for myself.

How much respect?

A shitload.

Trick or Treat

My company carries Starbucks and Folgers brands of coffee.

I am all for strong coffee and lots of caffeine, so I go for the Starbucks, but I'll drink Folgers in a pinch, but really... it's a distant second. My whole cream and Equal ratio gets messed up with the weak ass Folgers crap, so why even bother?

So I go in to the kitchen at work to make coffee on Friday and after I put a pot of Starbuck Breakfast Blend on to brew, I stand around and wait for it so I can have the first delicious cup.

As I am waiting, I pick up the Starbucks bag and lovingly gaze at the designs in the back ground and look at the logo (love that mermaid!) and re-read the type of coffee... and do a double-take.

Its DECAF!!

To my growing horror, I realize that IT'S ALL DECAF! Bags and bags and bags of Starbucks and IT'S ALL DECAF!!

The only caffeinated coffee we have is Folgers!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

I found out today (after discovering that our CAFFEINATED Starbucks has been resupplied) that we will no longer be ordering Starbucks coffee anymore because it's $3 a bag and half of it gets poured down the drain.

Ah... fate is a cruel, cruel mistress.

Happy Samhain!

So the four of us planned on being a vampire family this year, at Ashlyn's behest.

Notice that only 50% of the four of us are vampires.

The traitorous spider witch bailed on the vampire idea at the Halloween store.

The other traitor (behind the camera) didn't dress up at all!

But at least he stayed home and mopped the kitchen floor while we went out trick-or-treating, so I can't complain... much.

THE Starbucks Guy

I read this article in the Post a few months ago about a guy trying to visit every Starbucks in the world. As I read, I cheered him on and envied his coffee consumption, but I also thought he was a little odd.

His name is now just Winter. And he is no longer Houston-based.

How do I know that?

I now work with him.

He sits on the other side of my cubicle wall.

Death of Blogging

Shit. My new job monitors our internet usage. So, this blog will prob not get updated very often now. Sorry, sports fans.

I am sneaking this blog entry as we speak. Shhhh.

******************

Anyway, here are some things I found amusing in Best Of Craigslist. Enjoy!

Damage from Rita

Starter Wife

Free Spectacles

******************

Moowaah, ya'll!

Emotional vomit

Ever have one of those days or series of days where everything bad builds up in your mind? All your stresses and all the things that have pissed you off or hurt your feelings all seem magnified?

I was having one of those times 2 weeks ago. R and I were fighting about semi-serious stuff, but how the fights came about were stupid BS. But it all boiled over and we yelled at each other, then talked and talked and talked, then made up.

And now that I look back on what we were fighting about... there were some things that were bothering me for months and now that they are in the open, they don't even register emotion anymore.

It's like when you are really drunk or sick and feel like you need to puke and you know you'll feel better, but don't look forward to the act of puking itself. But then after you puke, you really DO feel better.

This is exactly the way this felt... it needed to be done, but I really didn't look forward to it.
But now that it IS done, I feel sooooo much better.

So I am coining a new phrase:

Emotional vomit.

One thing I like about my job...

well, I guess there are actually three things I like about my job today.

1. We have Columbus Day off as a paid holiday so I have a three day weekend this weekend.

2. Management is kissing our asses to raise morale, so we are having a catered breakfast AND a catered lunch today.

3. I will be leaving it soon...

BECAUSE I GOT AN OFFER FROM THE INTERVIEW!!

Saaaaaay whaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!?!

woo woo woo woo woo

Can you say pay raise, jeans every day and 10 minute commute?

How happy am I?

I am so happy I could tap dance naked on the National Mall, titties and ass flying everywhere.

What have you learned today?

I learned that people from FEMA and the Florida state legislature read The Washington Post and then click on the Technorati link on whose blogs link to that particular article. I've gotten lots of hits just from linking to 2 articles yesterday.

Lesson learned: people all over the world fuck off at work, especially government workers.

Woohoo!

Poetic Justice

This is funny.

My fave line:
"the children responded the way they were instructed to by the suspect"

And we think children never learn.

Heh

President Bush Sells Louisiana Back to the French President Bush and a giddy Jacques Chirac shake hands on the deal.

BATON ROUGE, LA. - The White House announced today that President Bush has successfully sold the state of Louisiana back to the French at more than double its original selling price of $11,250,000.

"This is a bold step forward for America," said Bush. "And America will be stronger and better as a result. I stand here today in unity with French Prime Minister Jacques Chiraq, who was so kind to accept my offer of Louisiana in exchange for 25 million dollars cash."

The state, ravaged by Hurricane Katrina, will cost hundreds of billions of dollars to rebuild.

"Jack understands full well that this one's a 'fixer upper,'" said Bush. "He and the French people are quite prepared to pump out all that water, and make Louisiana a decent place to live again. And they've got a lot of work to do. But Jack's assured me, if it's not right, they're going to fix it."


The move has been met with incredulity from the beleaguered residents of Louisiana."Shuba-pie!" said New Orleans resident Willis Babineaux. "Frafer-perly yum kom drabby sham!"

However, President Bush's decision has been widely lauded by Republicans. "This is an unexpected but brilliant move by the President," said Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist. "Instead of spending billions and billions, and billions of dollars rebuilding the state of Louisiana, we've just made 25 million dollars in pure profit."

"This is indeed a smart move," commented Fox News analyst Brit Hume. "Not only have we stopped the flooding in our own budget, we've made money on the deal. Plus, when the god-awful French are done fixing it up, we can easily invade and take it back again."

The money gained from 'T'he Louisiana Refund' is expected to be immediately pumped into the rebuilding of Iraq.

A-Z meme

I am so unoriginal and braindead lately, so I am stealing a meme from Russ just to pass the time.

A ~ Age you got your first kiss - Peck - 1st grade, so I was 6. French kiss - 6th grade, so I was 12.
B ~ Band listening to right now - I'm at work, so nothing, but on my way in I was listening to Keane.
C ~ Crush - Eric Bana
D ~ Dad's name - Kenneth Lee
E ~ Easiest person to talk to - R or Trey
F ~ Favorite TV show - House
G ~ Gummy worms or bears - Haribo (German) gummy bears. American gummy bears are too mushy
H ~ Happiest memory - luckily, I have quite a few. One of the most recent is coming downstairs to see R and the girls curled up on the couch together watching Dodgeball and laughing hysterically.
I ~ Instrument - Finger cymbals :)
J ~ Jr. High Crush - Brian Eibner
K ~ Kids or no Kids - 2 crazy girls and maybe another one in a couple of years
L ~ Longest car ride ever - ambulance ride from car accident to hospital - we were caught in rush hour traffic, I had a neck brace on and was strapped to a back board... and I was getting car sick. Joy.
M ~ Mom's name - Anna Kay
N ~ Nicknames - Misha, Shelly Bean
O ~ One animal you like - squirrels
P ~ Phobias - heights, small spaces
Q ~ Quirks - uh... I also have quite a few of those. Let's just say I'm pretty eccentric for a semi-yuppie.
R ~ Reason to smile - when R or the girls belly laugh, I always laugh too
S ~ Song you sang last - Ain't No Mountain High Enough
T ~ Time you woke up today - 6am
U ~ Unknown fact about me - I can't ride a bicycle
V ~ Vegetable you hate - beets
W ~ Worst habits - too analytical about unimportant stuff, bad at finishing projects
X ~ X-rays you've had - chest for a flight physical, c-spine after car accident, teeth, sonograms for kiddos
Y ~ Yummy food - name an ethnicity, I'll name my fave dish
Z ~ Zodiac sign - Virgo, Aquarius rising

Blindfold me, please

Ya know how Fedex, UPS and construction guys are generally cute, muscular and sweaty, so no girl minds interaction with them, just for the sake of eye candy?

Well this morning, I had to drop something off at a house that's getting remodeled and had the prerequisite construction guys there. I know their names are Rob and Bean, so I am anticipating some college age looking man candy with no shirts on. Woohoo!

So I get there and get out of my car and what do I see? Two old, wrinkled, and hairy guys.

Gah!

Busy busy busy

I'm still here. Been a very busy week. Here's a quick run down:

Birthday
Job Interview
Girl Scout Meeting
Dr's appointment
Employee forms for earlier job interview
Brownie Meeting tonight

I have zero to do tomorrow, thank god, because I am exhausted. I haven't gotten home until after 9 almost every night this week. Blah

Love ya!

Smatterings

Few random Friday thoughts for you

*********************
Gave some outgrown clothes to Farmer Jo, and now I have free pick of her bountiful plentitude of fresh produce. Bartering is good. I need wampum.

*********************
Anyone interested in first hand retelling of what is actually happening on the ground in New Orleans from real cops, National Guard, and a doctor (and it's not full of positive spins and political bullshit) see First Hand by Jack the Narc. Very informative.

*********************
Girl Scout cookies are coming! I know you all love me, but you'll love me even more when I feed your sugar/chocolate/bad carbs addictions. Moowhahaha. I'm your sugar mama.

*********************
Here a few snippets from blogs that have given me a chuckle today:

Realized the only way to get good use out of a stress ball is to throw one at somebody you don't like, as hard as you possibly can. Casual Friday

In the last 48 hours, I have eaten three apples, two salads, a banana and a peach – which by my standards is about six years worth of roughage. Yes, this is all part of the masochistic health and fitness regimen about which I wrote yesterday. But after two days eating like a shaman I am now even more committed to my belief that if the good lord had intended us to eat this way, he wouldn’t have invented Count Chocula. Dad Gone Mad

I sit by myself and look at my lottery ticket wondering what I’d do if I won. Would I be responsible and generous? Or would I turn into Caligula? Hmmm. A little of both maybe. Waiterrant

Stolen Meme

I stole this from one of my new fave blogs, Under the Undies.

Things I have done in my lifetime, as of today:

(x) Smoked a joint
( ) Been in a wet t-shirt contest
(x) Crashed a car
( ) Stolen a car
(x) Been in love
( ) Had a threesome
(x) Been dumped
(x) Shoplifted
(x) Been fired
(x) Been in a fist fight
(x) Snuck out of the house
(x) Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back
( ) Been arrested
(x) Made out with a stranger
(x) Gone on a blind date
(x) Lied to a friend
(x) Had a crush on a teacher
(x) Been to Europe
(x) Skipped school
(x) Seen someone die
( ) Been to Canada
( ) Been to Mexico
(x) Been on a plane
(x) Seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show
(x) Thrown up in a bar
( ) Purposely set a part of yourself on fire
(x) Eaten Sushi
(x) Been skiing
(x) Met someone from the internet in person
(x) Been moshing at a concert
( ) Been in an abusive relationship
(x) Taken painkillers
(x) Love someone or miss someone right now
(x) Lay and watch cloud shapes go by
(x) Made a snow angel
(x) Had a tea party
(x) Flown a kite
(x) Built a sand castle
(x) Gone puddle jumping
(x) Played dress up
(x) Jumped into a pile of leaves
(x) Gone sledding
(x) Cheated while playing a game
(x) Been lonely
(x) Fallen asleep at work/school
( ) Used a fake ID
(x) Watched the sunset
(x) Felt an earthquake
(x) Touched a snake
(x) Slept beneath the stars
(x) Been tickled
(x) Been robbed
(x) Been misunderstood
(x) Pet a reindeer/goat
(x) Won a contest/race
(x) Run a red light
(x) Been suspended from school
(x) Been in a car accident
( ) Had braces
(x) Felt like an outcast
(x) Eaten a whole pint of ice cream in one night
(x) Had deja vu
(x) Danced in the moonlight
(x) Hated the way you look
(x) Witnessed a crime
( ) Pole danced
( ) Been obsessed with post-it notes
(x) Walked barefoot through the mud
(x) Been lost
(x) Been to the opposite side of the world
(x) Swam in the ocean
(x) Felt like dying
(x) Cried yourself to sleep
(x) Played cops and robbers
(x) Recently colored with crayons/colored pencils/markers
(x) Sung karaoke
(x) Paid for a meal with only coins
(x) Done something you told yourself you wouldn't
(x) Made prank phone calls when you were younger
(x) Laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose
(x) Caught a snowflake on your tongue
( ) Danced naked in the rain
(x) Written a letter to Santa Claus
(x) Been kissed under the mistletoe
(x) Watched the sun rise with someone you care about
(x) Blown bubbles
(x) Had a bonfire on the beach
(x) Crashed a party
(x) Gone rollerblading
(x) Had a wish come true
(x) Worn pearls
( ) Jumped off a bridge
(x) Screamed the word penis in public
(x) Ate dog/cat food
(x) Told a complete stranger you loved them
(x) Kissed a mirror
(x) Sang in the shower
(x) Owned a little black dress
(x) Had a dream that you married someone else
(x) Glued your hand to something
(x) Got your tongue stuck to a flag pole
( ) Kissed a fish
(x) Worn the opposite sex's clothes
(x) Been a cheerleader
(x) Sat on a roof top
(x) Screamed at the top of your lungs
( ) Done a one-handed cartwheel
(x) Talked on the phone for more than 6 hours
(x) Stayed up all night
( ) Didn't take a shower for a week
( ) Picked and ate an apple right off the tree
(x) Climbed a tree
( ) Had a tree house
( ) Are NOT scared to watch scary movies
(x) Believe in ghosts
(x) Have more than 30 pairs of shoes
( ) Worn a really ugly outfit to school just to see what others say
(x) Gone streaking
(x) Played chicken
(x) Been skinny dipping
(x) Been pushed into a pool/lake with all your clothes on
(x) Been told you're beautiful by a complete stranger
(x) Broken a bone (do toes count? How about a severed finger?)
(x) Been easily amused
( ) Caught a fish then ate it
(x) Caught a butterfly
(x) Laughed so hard you cried
(x) Cried so hard you laughed
(x) Mooned/flashed someone
(x) Had someone moon/flash you
(x) Cheated on a test
(x) Forgotten someone's name
(x) Slept naked
(x) French braided someone's hair
( ) Grown a beard

Mipples

Ashlyn is obsessed with nipples or "mipples" as she calls them. She grabs various women's mipples (including me, her father's girlfriend, various family friends and even some men) whenever she can. Her obsession began when she was breastfed and subsequently weaned, which was about 2 years ago now... but her obsession continues.

Case in point, night before last as I was driving the girls home from Lauren's soccer practice, Lauren was fussing at Ashlyn for picking at a tiny wart on her knee. Ashlyn then matter-of-factly informed Lauren that she didn't like warts and that she liked mipples better, so she had a mipple on her knee, not a wart. Uh...

That's the Mipple Lover. Note the mipple devil-glare in her eyes.

All I have to say is that I hope her future lovers (be it man or woman) enjoy nipple play, because they will be getting alot of it.

Russ, this one's for you

I have nothing original to write, so I am stealing other people's stuff. But I am giving them props, so it isn't quite plagarizing. *ahem*

This is from one of my fave blogs, Dad Gone Mad, written from the view of a guy with 2 young kids.

Things They Don't Tell You In Childbirth Classes Because You'd Puke

It has occurred to me lately that the classes most hospitals offer to expectant parents about childbirth and childrearing are woefully devoid of information about the most disturbing elements of parenthood. I remember walking out of those sessions saying, “OK. I know how to change a diaper, how to burp a baby and that the birth of my child has something to do with a vagina. I’m all set. Bring on the offspring!” I was such a dipshit.

Bringing a child into the world is disgusting and gory and unsanitary, and raising them isn’t much cleaner. As a service to my brother-in-law Robert (a new father), Old Buddy Andy (an expectant father) and Craig The Mouse Killer (newly engaged), I will now list a few of the key discoveries I’ve made during my four-plus years of fatherhood --- items not discussed in childbirth or childrearing classes because they don’t want to make becoming a dad seem as much like an episode of Fear Factor as it really is:

Childbirth

1. When your wife is in the late stages of delivering your child, the doctor while ask her to push, whereupon she will bear down on midsection with the force of 10,000 atomic bombs. The goal, naturally, is to have something come out of her crotch. Unfortunately, there are two holes in her crotch and it’s best that you know now that something is going to come out of both holes. Hole number one will produce a baby. Hole number two will produce, well, number two. You’ll try to look away and you’ll try to maintain your focus on what’s coming out of hole number one, but you won’t be able to. And you’ll never be able to look at a Play-Doh Fun Factory again.

2. After your child is born and has been taken across the delivery room to be weighed and measured and wiped clean of yuck, you’ll notice that the doctor is still staring into hole number one. Do not attempt to accost the doctor; he’s not getting his jollies. He’s actually “delivering” the most rancid, foul, nightmare-inducing substance known to man: the placenta. If your doctor is a sicko like ours, he’ll hold it up and show it to you when it comes out. Be prepared. The placenta looks like someone has taken the layer of melted cheese from the top of a pizza and is holding it sauce-side up. They’ll try to convince you that it’s beautiful and a miracle and shit like that, but when you’ve been up all night stressing about your baby being born with his nose on his ass or your wife dying during childbirth, there’s nothing beautiful or miraculous about a big skin bag covered of blood, is there?

3. The first few shits your newborn takes are made of the same substance NASA uses to adhere those special tiles to the outside of the Space Shuttle to protect it from the unfathomable heat it encounters upon re-entry to earth’s atmosphere. It is black and sticky and infused with the smell of the vomit one produces after a night of partying with a quart of tequila and a bag of chili-cheese Fritos. By all means, make the nurses in the hospital change the first few diapers. They love that shit. And if you get it on your hands, there isn’t a space-age polymer on the planet that will get it off of you.

Childrearing

1. There are more varieties of fluids in a child than there are under the hood of your average import sedan, and all of them are bound to come out flying out of the child at different velocities from time to time. For example, last night there was a wad of snot the size of a nectarine that had dried and sealed shut the left nostril of my daughter. I was able to pry it loose with a chamois, a putty knife and a stick of Juicy Fruit, but my point is that you have to be prepared for anything. They puke when they’re mad. They have diarrhea when they’re asleep. And they shoot piss at you when they’re having their diaper changed. Fathers of Planet Earth, I have but one word for you: duck.

2. Imagine your wife at her PMS worst. Picture her raging at you, spewing hate in your direction for no good reason, slamming doors in your face and threatening to dismember you with her eyelash curler. Now imagine that same behavior from someone who is two feet tall and cannot color a picture without sticking his tongue out. This, basically, is the kind of irrational behavior you can expect from your child when you deny him Halloween candy for breakfast or tell him that he may not, under any circumstances, throw dogshit at his baby sister. Kids are fucking crazy sometimes and there’s nothing you can do about it. It’s best to just let them wail and go back to watching SportsCenter until they calm down.

3. If you do not already know how, you should learn to complete the following tasks immediately (reason in parenthesis): strip and remake a bed in the dark (your kid will wet the bed at 2 a.m.), breathe threw your mouth for long periods of time (your kid will get sick and will simultaneously cry, vomit, shit his clothes, also at 2 a.m.), resist torture (your kid will want to watch Barney’s Adventure Bus for the 1,192nd time right about the time your favorite team is taking the opening kickoff back for a touchdown in the Super Bowl), make pasta with butter (that’s the only thing your kid will eat until he’s 14), take a kick or a punch in the balls (no matter how hard you try to avoid it, your kid will hit you there --- either accidentally or on purpose --- once a day for the foreseeable future).

4. You’ll never sleep through the night again. That’s just the way it is. But I’ll be up, too, so call me.

Katrina, You're the Queen Bitch

Among all the tragedy, these just struck me as funny.

*****************

Quoted from Casual Friday where in this guy lists the highlights of his day:

Spent the rest of my afternoon watching CNN and replacing "Katrina" with "That Fucker"-

• There's no telling how many people have been affected by That Fucker
• White House officials are being blamed for the choas That Fucker left behind
• Well as you can see Bob, That Fucker just came roaring right through this entire city
• One thing is for certain; That Fucker will cost the American tax payers billions

******************

Taken from Post Secret:

Bye bye, long weekend. You will be missed.

My father's visit this past weekend was great, but honestly, I'm glad it's over.

We went to a vineyard, we went to the Renn Fest, we had fondue and we went shopping. We talked a lot and played computer games and Xbox. We got pissed off when installing a new superduper graphics card. Fun and merriment was had by all.

Most importantly, my dad is much happier and healthier than I have seen him in a long, long time. And he made the same comments about me and said that R and I are much better suited to each other. R even received the official fatherly stamp of approval when my dad asked when we planned on getting married (notice it was "when", not "if" - I guess my dad wants me to become an honest woman - if he only knew...)

That said, the lack of real sex in my house because of said visit is a bad thing and must be rectified as soon as possible. There was hanky panky and slap and tickle and we even made it to 3rd base, but there was no home base in sight.

I'm not much for sports metaphors, but ladies and gents, I am in desperate need of a grand-slam home run!

City of New Orleans

Words cannot express how deep my horror and sorrow is for all the people in Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama.

Things will never be the same.

Pay It Forward

On my way home from work on Monday, I witnessed a car accident on north-bound I-97. A lady a few car lengths in front of me tried to make a lane change but lost control of her gray Saturn, swerved across a few lanes and did a 180 in the middle of the road. Another lady in a Jeep tried to swerve, but was unable to avoid hitting her.

I immediately pulled over when I saw what happened and ran to give assistance if it was needed. A few other people pulled over and stayed with the lady in the Saturn. I ran up to the lady in the Jeep. Her left front fender was decimated and her windshield was cracked. She was understandably shaking and upset.

To make a long story short, I stayed with her and kept her calm thru the process with the EMTs and police and waited with her until her husband got to the scene.

When I flipped my car a couple of months ago, about 10 cars pulled over to offer assistance. They called 911, helped me out of the car, got the stuff from my purse together (because its contents went flying) and even made sure I had my keys and cell phone and shoes before I was strapped into the neck brace and back board and hauled away in the ambulance. I even used a stranger's cell phone to call R and call C to tell him to get the girls from daycare.

In the days that followed the accident and dealing with the whirlwind of insurance and the towing company and a totalled car, along with being extremely sore, there was one thing that bothered me... I never got to thank the people that helped a stranger out of the kindness of their hearts.

So when the lady in the Jeep thanked me profusely for everything I had done, I told her about my own experience. Because in my eyes, I was doing the only thing I could do...

Paying it forward.

Toodledum

And no, I'm not talking about the lost triplet from Alice in Wonderland.

I'm talking about the hoo hoo, kitty, beaver, hair pie... the glorious vagina.

What is so embarrassing and taboo about using the word "vagina?" I don't know, but my sister and I weren't allowed to say it when we were younger. Instead, we were instructed to use the word "toodledum," thanks to my great-grandmother who used it with my mother, who in turn, used it with us.

Yessiree, folks... toodledum.

So, when we were little, we often heard phrases like "Wash your toodledum!" "Make sure you wipe your toodledum after you pee!" and the ubiquitous "Moooom! I got soap in my toodledum and it stings!" while painfully hopping around the bathtub and covering said toodledum with our hands... like that will get the soap out.

When we uttered this word, it was like some kind of magical word, spoken in hushed tones.

You know when you are little and take it for granted that everyone is just like you? So you assume that, of course everyone would say toodledum instead of vagina. But no, everyone else used a semi-normal and recognizable word. But not my family. Our friends would give us the strangest looks, and ask "What's a toodledum?!" Then we would giggle and point. Then they would say something along the lines of "Oh! I call that a pee pee."

Oh, to have used a normal word....

There is one particular memory that sticks out in my mind from my childhood, and that is me at about 4 years old, sitting on my dad's lap. He was trying to watch TV while I climbed all over him and picked at him like a monkey... noting differences in the hair on his arms, his big hands and feet against my little hands and feet, and his bellybutton being an 'innie' while mine was still a semi 'outie.' I then proceeded to stick my finger in his bellybutton.

What possessed me to sniff my finger following that, I'll never know. But I do clearly remember squealing,

"Eww! Your belly button smells like toodedum!"

Trelina's Worst Nightmare

Along came a spider..

Aug 25, 11:16 AM (ET)
BERLIN (Reuters) - A German woman was so shocked by a spider crawling across her face that she lost control of her car and crashed head on into a roadside tree, police in the western town of Rheine said on Thursday.

The 23-year-old woman screamed and let go of the steering wheel, causing her small car to veer off the road into the tree. The car was totally destroyed but the woman escaped with only slight injuries, a police spokesman said.

"She was shocked by the spider crawling on her face and lost control of her car," said the spokesman for the police in the small town near the Dutch border. The spider survived, he said.
"He crawled out of the window."

FUBAR

So, this morning I walk into work, and everyone is all in a tizzy.

Why?

Our software servers were down, meaning lots of irate guys from the Pentagon were calling, and at the same time...

WE LOST POWER.

Funny thing is, the servers taking a dump and the power outage had nothing to do with each other - our servers are at the Pentagon, and our actual office location is about 15 miles away. It was pure coincidence.

But being the anal little worker bees we are, people just about shat themselves.

Consequently, I have now tasked myself (with my supervisor's ecstatic approval) with making a disaster recovery plan with actual procedures to follow when something like that happens, so people aren't screaming like the world is ending when something like this happens again. Because we all know, if it happened once, it can happen again.

Murphy's Law is always in effect, especially in the IT field.

So for the next few days, I'm actually putting my OSHA training from the Air Force to good use.

Know what qualifies as hazardous work conditions in the exciting field of chairborne linguists? Electric shock and tripping.

Know what the hazardous work conditions are for most of the IT career fields? Electric shock and tripping.

And, yes, I have been electrically shocked.

During which I yelped really loudly and yelled "Motherfucker!" after throwing the offending object against the wall.

In a room full of people. Of course all heads turned and gaped at me and snickered.

What was I so gloriously shocked by?

My HEADPHONES!

Which I then had to report to the NCOIC.

Who then snickered.

I can't blame him. I mean, who the fuck gets shocked by headphones, for christsake?!

Well, apparently, I do.

And as for tripping...

I am the all time champ.

Yay me.

Androids Are Us

And don't you forget it!

Nothing clever to say

Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.

I've had absolutely nothing clever to say lately. I don't even have any witty observations to make on OTHER people's writings.

Why? No particular reason, other than running around like a chicken with it's head cut off because it's "back to our regularly scheduled program" time of the year. School. Soccer. Brownies. Throw in divorce proceedings, my father's visit next week, Ashlyn's surgery consult next week and the resulting coordination of 3 doctors' input and CT scan reports and films... all I can say is ACK!

Now I have to pee.

Best of Craigslist

This shit is too funny not to pass along.

Pseudo terrorism on the DC Metro:

I'm Brown, on the Metro and Messin with Your Head Oh My God this is fucking HILARIOUS

DC Metro Foils Al-Qaeda Plot So so so true

Masturbation Mishaps are funny, and people like to post about them:

Stories Better Left Untold Eeew Are all people from Phoenix like this?

I Don't Know About Blindness, But Masturbation Can Be Dangerous This is sooo something that would happen to me... if I were a guy, with a cat.

So, You're Showing My Apartment Minus the gay porn, an approximation of this HAS happened to me.

That's all, folks!

Booty call

I made my first booty call EVER night before last.

Of course, it was to R, who was downstairs.

Hey, I never said I wasn't lazy.

I called him on his cell and asked if he could come upstairs for a few minutes - he thought I wanted something to drink or that I was mad about something. So he came upstairs all worried, and I pounced. I made a comment about a booty call, and we both busted out laughing.

Ahh... I love being a woman.

Whose your (baby's) daddy?!

I went and got my oil changed in R's Explorer today.

While I was waiting, The Maury Show was on, and it was one of those 'who is my baby's daddy' DNA shows. This idiot girl had been on the show previously trying to find out who the fathers of her three children were... TWELVE times.

How humiliating must that be? Why would anyone voluntarily do that on national TV?

I just don't get it.

What's in a name?

Shamelessly swiped from my Soul Sistah.

1. YOUR PORN STAR NAME: (Name of first pet / Street you live on):
Mitzy Candlelight

2. YOUR MOVIE STAR NAME: (Name of your favorite snack food / Grandfather's first name):
Oreo James

3. YOUR FASHION DESIGNER NAME: (First word you see on your left / Favorite restaurant):
Clear Fuddruckers

4. EXOTIC FOREIGNER ALIAS: (Favorite Spice / Last Foreign Vacation Spot):
Cilantro Limerick

5. SOCIALITE ALIAS: (Silliest Childhood Nickname / Town Where You First Partied):
Shelly-bean Tokyo

6. "FLY GIRL/BOY" ALIAS (a la J. Lo): (First Initial / First Two or Three Letters of your Last Name):
M.Co

7. ICON ALIAS: (Something Sweet Within Sight / Any Liquid in Your Kitchen):
Soda Dawn

8. DETECTIVE ALIAS: (Favorite Baby Animal / Where You Went to High School):
Squirrel Westwood

9. BARFLY ALIAS: (Last Snack Food You Ate / Your Favorite Alcoholic Drink):
Trailmix Kahlua

10. SOAP OPERA ALIAS: (Middle Name / Street Where You First Lived):
Marie Alta Villa

11. ROCK STAR ALIAS: (Favorite Candy / Last Name Of Favorite Musician):
Mamba Morisette

12. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: ( First 2 letters of your first name and the first 3 Letters from your last name makes your first name. Take the first 2 letters of your mother's maiden name and the first 3 letters of the city you were born in):
Micov Gahei

My Star Wars name sounds like I'm choking up a hairball.

I like Mitzy Candlelight and Oreo James.

Hey Mom, I wanna go (but they won't let me go ) home!

I spoke with my mom yesterday and found out that she is moving to Texas with her boyfriend... in OCTOBER! I though they were going next year at the earliest, but they put a contract on a house and if it is accepted, they close in mid-September. Ack!

What is my point to all this?

After October, I no longer have a place to call "home." The house and even the town I consider to be the answer when people ask "Where are you from?" will no longer be mine. I will have no connection to them other than memory, because that house and my fractured family will no longer be there.

It is a very odd, sort of sad feeling.

I feel like a safety net has been removed from below me and I am unsteadily traversing the high wire, trying not to look down.

I just hope when I make it to the other side, in all my sequined glory, that the hands of my loved ones are there reaching out to help me onto the platform. Then I will triumphantly yell, "HEY!!"

Can someone toss me a balancing pole?

Hope

After a long marriage and semi-messy divorce, at what point do you consider remarriage and the prospect of having more children?

The subject has come up in general conversation between R and I recently and I find myself feeling pretty ambivalent. My ambivalence is soley based on time - even tho there is no pressure to make any decisions from either of us. I HAVE been separated for a year and 7 months and am over what happened in my marriage to the extent that I am no longer assigning blame and feeling angry or sad. But I am not over the loss of hope that I experienced in my first marriage. That was devastating.

On one hand, the prospect of remarriage and possibly another baby scares the living shit out of me, considering my not-quite-final divorce (I've blogged extensively about the end of my marriage) . The last thing I want is another divorce. Add to that two formerly confused kids, one of which is still so young that the sleepless nights, breast feeding, and poopy diapers of a newborn and the frustrated, non-verbal communications of a howling toddler are still very recent and vivid memories, so the prospect of having a child with someone new holds no romanticized visions of family utopia.

But on the other hand, I have no doubt that I want to remarry. I feel that if your relationship is serious enough to live together with the intention of dealing with all of life's little ups and downs together, that you should be committed enough to each other to want to get married and make it work. And a marriage to someone that is supportive, patient, loving, and affectionate to me AND my girls could be the answer to my secret wishes for a semi-realistic happily-ever-after, and adding a another baby to the mix could just enhance that feeling, instead of detract from it.

I guess time will tell.

After all, hope springs eternal.

Glutton for Punishment

Today, Lauren and Ashlyn are staying home with R, at Lauren's request.

heh heh heh

Of course, I hope this will be a bonding experience for them all, but I still can't help but chuckle because R has never had to play referee for more than say... 2 hours while I ran errands.

He is expecting no problems that he can't handle, and honestly, I don't foresee any problems either because he is a calm and fair guy who is used to dealing with them now, but the constant back and forth of a bossy 8 y/o and a bratty 4 y/o can try the patience of a saint.

In the immortal words of Bugs Bunny...

He don't know them vewy well, do he?

In walks the dog...

There you are, having a nice, quiet Sunday dinner with your in-laws and the minister and his wife... and in walks the dog.

No, that is not my dog or my dildo, but it is a hilarious picture. Thanks to Roger and Ron's blog.

Honestly, I don't really get the suction cup ones... I know how you use it, but I'm really tall and it would seem hard to position right, and there are only certain surfaces it would stick to... or maybe I'm just lazy.

Besides, it doesn't vibrate, so it's just another unemotional dick, am I right?

And yes, a situation similar to the above, if not as publicly horrifying, has happened to me.

Of course it has! It is ME we are talking about!

A couple of years ago, I was in the bathroom attached to the master bedroom doing girly stuff (plucking my eyebrows, if you really must know.)

In runs my then-2-year-old, Ashlyn, waving something around like a sword, yelling "Hiiiiii yaaaah!!! Mommy, I a pirate!!"

What, exactly, was my blonde-haired, blue-eyed angel waving around, you ask?

My VIBRATOR that I had left in my partially-open nightstand drawer after indulging in a little self pleasure the night before.

I have never snatched something out of my children's hands so quickly... not even steak knives.

The only ones who speak the truth are children and fools

This weekend was great. My two rugrats were home, so, R and the girls and I hung out and watched tv and made cookies and painted our fingernails and toenails hot pink (well, not R).

On Friday, the girls got some miniature Barbies in their Happy Meals and as soon as they got home, they had to find a male doll of equal size to play the boyfriend/hero/stinky-boy harrasser role. They found Mr. Incredible, aka Bob. R was quickly elected to play Bob. But mass confusion ensued when R chose to use Ralph as his name (said in a hero voice, of course), not Bob. "His name isn't Ralph, it's Bob!" echoed the chorus of giggling voices. After trading a few barbs, Ralph then proceeded to unceremoniously punch Fairy Princess Magical Pegasus Barbie in the face, thereby defeating her magical powers. (Ralph was playing the stinky-boy harrasser role this time.) Baaaad Ralph.

On Sunday, my little angels got into a waterfight while they were playing outside with a little neighbor girl (it was really hot) and drenched the house carrying water in and out, AND they ate what I was planning to have for dinner for a 'snack,' so they are grounded from tv and playing outside for the rest of yesterday and today. The bad thing about punishment is that it punishes the parents too, because you have taken away their normal modes of entertainment, which leads to much whining and squabbling. Sigh...

The most amusing part of the weekend occured on Saturday while I was sitting at the computer desk in our family room, surfing the web with R and Ashlyn sitting on the couch a couple feet away and Lauren standing behind me. I was on Yahoo's homepage, and there was a picture of Michael Jackson that accompanied an article dicussing how he was buying a home in Bahrain and planning to move there. Here is our conversation:

Lauren: Who is that?
Me: Michael Jackson
L: That's Michael Jackson?!
M: Yup. (chuckling)
L: He looks like a girl!
M and R: laughing out loud
L: And I thought he was black!
M and R: laughing uncontrollably
(I then proceed to google Michael Jackson's images to show her the differences.)
L (totally incredulous): I can't wait to tell all my friends what Michael Jackson really looks like!

Sometimes, an eight-year-old can show the wisdom of the ages.

Feminist Humor

Gotta love it!

Friday I'm in love....

Yes, I am in love. I am in love with a chick leaving my job, because today we are having a farewell breakfast with fresh fruit, orange juice, coffee and Krispy Kreme donuts! YAY! Oh, and I love my boyfriend, my daughters, my family and my friends too, of course. But they are secondary to my Krispy Kreme and coffee orgasmic bliss right now. I'll think about them later.

**********************

I actually don't feel guilty blogging at work right now because I am LOCKED OUT of the network drive where my documents are stored. Why? I have no friggin' clue. It was fine yesterday, and my co-worker is able to access the drive today, but not me. So I will blog and read other blogs and read the news until my IT problem is solved by the IT guy who is never at his desk. Gee, what a shame.

I'm leaving work a couple hours early today anyway because both my girls have an eye check up.

***********************

Speaking of an eye check up, my oldest daughter has the same condition in her left eye, amblyopia, that I do. She has to wear glasses and a patch for a couple hours a day when she is at home to force her brain to use her left eye correctly. So far, she has taken the news in stride, because she thinks it's cool to wear glasses like her mom. But we shall see when she starts third grade.

My youngest daughter has an eye appointment today too. I always find these kinda funny on young kids because they can't READ an eye chart. The doctors try to use symbols on eye charts for young children, but that is hit or miss, too. So her appointment ought to be interesting.

When I was little, I HATED my glasses. I've had them since I was old enough to wear them, so for about 30 1/2 years. I hid my glasses in trees, I buried them, and once I even hid them in the neighbor's dog house. My poor mother could be seen walking around the housing complex on Ft Bragg, me in tow, about once a week asking "Do you remember if you played here? Did you take them off here?" And I would feign innocence and pretend that I had honestly lost my glasses and had no earthly idea where they were, when I secretly knew they were stuck in some tree. Of couse, by that time, I really didn't have a clue which tree they were in anymore.

This is when I perfected my "who... me?!?!" expression of indignation and incredulity.

It has served me well.

Elementary, Dear Watson!

This photo warning people what NOT to do in the London subway system is fucking great.

Too bad the guy was Brazillian and had nothing to do with the bombings, but you should NEVER act like a stupid asshole during a crisis who doesn't follow police direction and starts RUNNING, with a BACKPACK wearing a HEAVY COAT in JULY onto the London subways that were bombed by terrorists a few days earlier.

Hopefully a quintuple tap to the head will serve as enough warning for any other dumb asses with a bad attitude around the subways.

Take heed, because the London police ain't fucking around!

I think he should be nominated for the Darwin Awards.

Players only loooove you when they're plaaaaying

The original post title for this was "Goodbye Ruby Tuesday" - gotta love the Stones. But have you ever tried thinking of song lyrics for every day of the week? I'm okay with Monday and Friday - those are nice, vague lyrics. Tuesday... well, it's morning and I am not encrusted in gems, so the 'Goodbye Ruby' part of that title seems kind of bizarre. I am seriously fucked for Wednesday and Thursday, unless I choose the days of the week descriptions from "Friday I'm In Love," and I certainly don't want my heart broken today or tomorrow according to those lyrics (look it up, non-Cure fan losers), so I find myself in a quandry. Argh

**************************

So, as you can probably tell from the nonsensical bullshit about song lyrics stated above, I have been very scattered the last couple of days. Everything is a tangent. Heeellooooo ADHD. I started 2 posts yesterday and didn't finish/post them because *surprise* they make no sense.

**************************

My weekend was very good. Saturday was spent sleeping late, then just chillin' with R, my man, all day. Sunday we slept late again, then hung out and got ready and went to dinner with Trelina and Russ, my bestest bud and her hubby. This sounds dorky, but when you are part of a couple, it's always nice to have another couple with whom to hang out and chill. We went to La Palapa in historic Ellicot City - it was very cool.

And I have been a bad friend since R got home from school and have been ignoring my friends because I prefer to spend most of my time with him, so it was nice for ALL of us to get out of the house, get liquored up and chow down.

We all had a great time, I think, and my faith in humanity was renewed. :)

****************************

Speaking of R, things between he and I are going really well the majority of the time, which kind of surprises both of us, honestly, because we are around each other ALL THE TIME. I thought we would be sick of each other and the lack of privacy by now since we've been living together for 6 months, but we are both still eager to see each other every day. It's a nice feeling.

Our main problem with each other lies with other people. Other women he is/was involved with in my case, and other men I am/was involved with in his case.

I'm usually not the jealous type, but considering his past involvements WHILE he was dating me (allbeit long distance dating, so I have to cut him some slack there) I have some trust issues with him. From my point of view (because this is MY blog, dammit), he keeps in touch with so many women, alot of whom like him as more than a friend, that I feel like I'm part of a harem. What unsettles me the most is that sometimes I feel like if he and I were to split up, he would just roll right out of bed with me and into the next girl's bed, with no second thoughts or regrets. I mean, doesn't EVERYONE want to feel like they have more impact in their lover's life than that?

I reeeeaaaally don't like feeling insecure. I never really have before, so this is a new and unwelcome feeling. This is going to make me sound conceited, but in all my previous relationships, I always felt very very sure of the guy's feelings for me, and in most cases, that their feelings for me were stronger than my feelings for them. Which is just the way I liked it - in control. I always felt like I could walk away, no harm, no foul (at least to myself) and I always did.

I can think of three guys I dated (including recycled boyfriend and R.) that I didn't feel so secure with, and guess what? Those are the guys I liked/loved the most. In hindsight, I think I liked the challenge of trying to win them over and proving I was cooler, sweeter, and sexier than any other woman that was vying for their attention. I guess this is where competitiveness rears it's ugly head in my life. I'm not competitive in most things - sports, games, jobs, whatever. But in the game of love, I loooove to WIN.

For example, the weekend after I found out that R was cheating on me in Texas, he was due to fly into B-more for Thanksgiving. So what did I do? Pull the pathetic victim and meet him in tears? Noooooo. I met him at the airport in a tight sweater, wrap-around miniskirt, thigh high stockings, high heels, and no panties. I greeted him cooly at the security gate, we walked out to the parking garage, loaded his bag, and got in the car. Then I took his hand and slid it up my thigh to my freshly shaved kitty while I looked him in the eye and slowly smiled. His reaction? Instant arousal along with 'Holy shit, this girl is cool!' My thought process on this? 'I'll show him who to be begging to fuck, and it won't be some whiney, crying little bitch in Texas.' Needless to say, we didn't make it home for a loooong time, and I live 10 minutes from the airport.

You can't fuck with me, bitches, so don't even try.

Little things I like and dislike about men

Like a lot of women, I love lists. I make to do lists, bill lists, party lists, decorating lists... you name it.

So here is a list of things little things I find attractive, or not, in men:

Quirky Ons:
Facial hair, especially a nice goatee.
Hair on the chest and on the belly.
Nice ass, especially in jeans.
Tight legs.
Broad shoulders.
Short hair.
Men in uniform - i.e., military, cops, and firemen.
A guy who dances even though he knows he stinks at it but has a good time anyway.
Bedhead.
Banter and wit.
Intelligence.
Acknowledging that I am just as smart or smarter than he is.
Drinking a beer from the bottle.
Nice fingernails - doesn't have to be a manicure, just short and clean.
Someone who will shake my hand and look me in the eye like I’m an equal, not just a chick.
Manners.
Bald or shaved head, especially with a goatee.
Good cook.
Tattoos.
Deep voices.
Musky, spicy cologne.
Accents.
Worldly.
Open minded.
Says my name. A lot.
Tells me they are impressed by something I do or know and means it. Not saying it to just try and get in my pants.
Thinks about what I want in bed.

Quirky offs:
Guys who have long fingernails. (ouch!)
Bad skin.
Floral or soapy cologne.
Too much cologne.
Insincere compliments.
Treating me like I’m fragile or stupid.
Talking to me like I couldn’t possibly understand what you’re discussing.
Chain smoking. (Smoking while drinking is ok)
Being late without a phone call.
Dominating the conversation.
Telling me I shouldn’t curse so much because I’m a girl. (Fuck you!)
Telling me what to do, period.
Being too concerned about how he looks or what he’s wearing.
Patting my back or shoulders during hugs or affection - I feel like I'm being dismissed.
Unkempt hair.
Dirty hands.
No table manners.
Ignorance.
Close-mindedness.
Religious zealot.
Wears shirts with holes and stains out.

Ideas courtesy of Great Googly Moogly and Andie Pandie.

Another reason I'm not a screamer

Amorous couple sparks rescue drama
Jul 27, 8:23 AM (ET)

LONDON (Reuters) - A British couple who headed out to sea in a dinghy for an amorous liaison sparked a major rescue operation when their cries of passion were mistaken for someone in trouble, British police said Tuesday.

A passer-by raised the alarm after hearing strange noises coming from the waters near a beach in Torbay on the southwest coast of England Saturday morning, prompting the coastguard to send lifeboats and police to the scene.

"It was found that there was a partially-clothed couple in a small rubber dingy that were brought ashore and asked to put their clothes back on."

Now, I'm not one to throw big fucking rocks in tiny little glass houses because, hey, I've been busted by the cops while I was half naked, too (and yeah, it was the bottom half) .

Oh yeah, and try speedily putting on and pulling up your jeans that are fashionably full of holes in the miniscule area of the front seat of a Chevy Z24 while you are sweaty and a cop is standing outside the car, tapping his flashlight on your window... there is no 'speed' about it.

And Hi, the cop said my name was familiar to him. It was for one of three reasons - none of which are exactly 'good' scenarios. Those three reasons were:

1. I was the long-time (ex) girlfriend of a fellow officer. (embarrassing)
2. His police department had offered me a scholarship (I was in college at the time). (really embarrassing)
3. I had testified against another fellow officer in a rape case. (revenge, anyone?)

Notice none of them involve me and criminal stuff, because even tho I may be stupid, I am law abiding. Except when it comes to parking. And sneaking food into the movie theater.

But at least I wasn't so incoherent/loud that they sent out a rescue crew.

My dad the comedian

(My father is coming to visit in September and I spoke with him for about an hour on the phone yesterday, so this lead me to reflect on my father.)

What can I say about my dad? For most of my life, he was an enigma. To say that he wasn't around much during my childhood is an understatement, but it wasn't because he was some drunken lout that was always out womanizing. It was because he was active duty Army in Psychological Operations, so he was always deployed with Special Forces, busting his ass for Uncle Sam. In a nutshell, he's a man who worked hard and provided for his wife and family his entire life.

But since he retired last year, overcame cancer, split with my mom and moved into a studio apartment, I am discovering my father as a person. Oh, I have seen glimpses of him in the past 32 years, and even more since I moved out of the house and became an adult, but in truth, I didn't see much beyond a husband, father, and soldier/security expert.

(Side note on my naivete as a child: I had no idea that my dad had an actual occupation in the Army for 21 years until I was a senior in high school. I have specific memories of taking dinner to him at work when he worked swing shifts, but I really just thought a soldier was a soldier was a soldier and ALL soldiers worked in basements with crytpo locks and an MP guarding a thick steel door. One day, a gung-ho JROTC guy in my history class asked me what my dad did in the Army. I kinda gave the guy a blank stare then brightened up and recited a saying from a unit t-shirt my dad had that read "Bang Bang, can you hang with the 1st PsyOps Battalion. First with the Finest." - of course, the only reason I remember that t-shirt is because it had a charicature of a bulldog with a cowboy hat on it, which I always thought was odd, but that is beside the point. Anyway, the gung-ho guy went completely apeshit when he found out my dad was in PsyOps and started asking where he was stationed and what he did, etc. I found myself to be a minor celebrity with this guy for a while because he followed me around and asked me questions, like the JROTC version of the papparazi. )

Outside of work, my father has never really been a football and beer on Sundays type of guy, but has always been interested in more intellectual/hobbyist pursuits. His hobbies over the years have included Dungeons and Dragons, leatherworking, wire jewelry making, photography, N-scale trains, writing sci-fi novels, racing RC cars, reading sci-fi/fantasy, and the ever present computer and RPG games - my 60 year old dad has a desk top, a lap top, an X-box, and a Gameboy. I was always involved with his hobbies and worked on/made projects with him, which I always found extremely enjoyable especially since my mom and sister weren't really interested in what we were doing - it was just quality time for me and my dad. My sister always enjoyed the computer games, so that was their bonding time.

The aspect I have enjoyed the most about him in the last few years tho, is his sense of humor. Everytime we talk on the phone, we always trade jokes. He loves blonde jokes.

Favorite blonde joke:
Q: What do you call a dead blonde in a closet?
A: Last year's hide and seek contest winner.

And he comes up with monikers for everything.

Favorite food monikers:
Biscuit Surprise and Adventures in Succotash (I'll leave you to wonder on those.)

The story behind my all-time favorite moniker:
Last year, he was forced to medically retire, then he was diagnosed with cancer, all on top of finding out about my mom having an affair. So in effect, he lost his job, his financial security, his health and his marriage all in the period of 2 months. After his cancer diagnosis, my sister and I were devastated and I, for one, was scared to talk to him because I didn't want to break down and cry on the phone and upset him further. So when I finally talked to him that evening, he was joking with me, trying to cheer me up. He started laughing and when I asked what he was laughing about he said, "I just figured out my new nick name... the ANTI-LOTTERY WINNER!!"

We both dissolved in giggles.

Twisted bastard.

How I love him so.

Odd smells in the office

There is this lady I work with, I'll call her Chief, that owns an organic farm with her husband. They only raise animals, but they network/barter/trade with all the other local farmers.

Every week, she brings in about 20 dozen organic eggs for all her co-workers to buy. We all snatch them up because they are gorgeous large brown eggs with rich yolks that even still have hay on them. My girls love helping me cook with them.

But this week, she has brought in produce. Zuchinni, summer squash, green beans, and cabbage. Yummy to be sure, but remember, she's an ORGANIC farmer and so are all the other local farmers.

So today, there is a slight smell permeating our little warren of cubicles. One of cabbage and... manure.

Breakfast anyone?

Quiz results

What is your Magick Path?
DRUIDIC - You have to live close to nature to
survive. You dream magick. In the deep woods
you gather, bringing together mysticism and
philosophy, insight and learning. Your spirit
emerges from the the tides of the sea, the
light of the sun, the wind in the Oak, the cry
of the deer.

*Yeah - I LOOOOVE the bleating cry of the deer when they run into the side of my car and break of my side-view mirror and dent my trim. Grrrr*

What animal spirit lives inside of you?

Fox
In you the spirit of the fox lives.The fox is very smart and thoughtful. He is concentrated in hunting its food and always seems to plan 10 steps ahead.So do you.You are a hard-working, concentrated and focused, smart person which plans ahead and has everything under control.But hey, you are not a fox living in the woods.Try to let loose sometimes and have fun.You live just once...Maybe...

Does this mean I'm foxy? Or that I have a pointy nose?

Panda Craze - Level 23

So I saw that someone reached my blog thru Google search results looking for hints on Level 23 for Panda Craze. Someone else got stuck too! Now I don't feel like a dumbass!

(Skip this post if you don't play Panda Craze.)

I was stuck on that damn level for DAYS, trying to figure out the sequence of blowing up dirt piles while trying to avoid that stupid zookeeper... and FINALLY I figured it out! So, I will try to explain it here:

What NOT to do:
Don't even bother trying to blow up all the dirt in the two different piles and hop on the carpet, expecting to make it to the ladder on the far side of the screen all in one fell swoop - your panda will croak because either the zookeeper gets in the way or the dirt reappears, thereby trapping you. (I tried this OVER AND OVER again, and you just don't have enough time.)

What you SHOULD do:
The key here is moving the carpet from that first dirt formation on the left to the second dirt formation on the right - it will be trapped there when the dirt reappears. This gives you the time you need to trap/blowup the zookeeper again and blow up the right side of the right dirt hunk to hop down onto the carpet and ride over to the ladder.

Here are step by step instructions:

1. Blow up the zookeeper, grab the lantern and bombs when you go down the ladder.
2. Run over and get the other lantern on the left (and pick up two more bombs), then dig a hole and trap the zookeeper and stand on his head til he dies.
3. Blow up the far right corner of the left dirt mound and the far left corner of the right dirt mound. The carpet will move to the right dirt mound.
4. After the dirt reappears and you trap the zookeeper again, blow up the far right corner of the right dirt mound while you hang from the vines on the right.
5. Hop down onto the carpet when it floats under you (DON'T MISS and DON'T FALL OFF) and ride it all the way over to the ladder.
6. Climb the ladder, dig your way down and collect the rest of the lanterns. The gate appears at the top of where those lanterns are.
7. Climb the ladder again, dig left and hop down into the gate.

Voila! Level 24 and 25 aren't that difficult. 25 is the last level.

Have fun and good luck!

Lessons from London

WE'RE NOT AFRAID

A totally awesome website has been created to say a great big FUCK YOU to terrorists - okay, it doesn't say Fuck you, it says We're Not Afraid!

This speaks more to me than the whole God Bless America thing that happened here on 9/11. Not that it wasn't (and still is) a great sentiment, but it was unoriginal.

ROCK ON, London!

ICE ICE BABY

Since the bombings in London, there is a new cell phone initiative to help fire/rescue/police contact your next-of-kin. It's called ICE and stands for In Case of Emergency.

To its owner, the cell phone is an indispensable lifeline at times of crisis, reuniting loved ones separated by unforeseen events at the touch of a button. But for members of the emergency services making life-and-death decisions, the cell poses a conundrum: Which of the numbers stored in its electronic address book should they call to reach a casualty's next of kin?

Now a simple initiative, conceived by a paramedic in Britain, has gained momentum on both sides of the Atlantic to try to solve this problem. Cell users are being urged to put the acronym ICE -- "in case of emergency" -- before the names of the people they want to designate as next of kin in their cell address book, creating entries such as "ICE -- Dad" or "ICE -- Alison."

At least two police forces in the United States are considering the idea, according to the initiative's British-based promoters, who say there has been a flurry of interest since the recent bombings in London.

Paramedics, police and firefighters often waste valuable time trying to figure out which name in a cell phone to call when disaster strikes, according to current and retired members of the emergency services, who said they must look through wallets for clues, or scroll through cell address books and guess. Many people identify their spouse by name in their cell, making them indistinguishable from other entries.

"Sometimes dialing the number for 'Mum' or 'Dad' might not be appropriate, particularly if they are elderly, suffer from ill health or Alzheimer's," said Matthew Ware, a spokesman for the East Anglian Ambulance service, which is promoting the ICE initiative. "This would give paramedics a way of getting hold of the appropriate person in a few seconds."

(You can read read the whole article here.)

Makes sense to me, and makes me wonder why nobody thought of it sooner. Necessity is the mother of invention, I guess.

Case in point, when I was in a pretty serious car accident a few weeks ago, if I had been unconcious, the paramedics/state troopers would have gone thru my phone and seen my mom and dad's numbers and contacted them, but they wouldn't have known who to contact locally to meet me at the hospital because my man, like the article says, is listed by his first name.

So now I have designated all my emergency contacts - my man, and my mom, dad, and sister with ICE (in capital letters) next to their names in my contact list so, just in case, the right people will be contacted immediately.

Take care of yourselves and your loved ones. If tragedy strikes, don't keep them waiting and wondering - it is the worst kind of torture.

Sometimes even a bad answer is better than no answer at all.

Monday Monday la la la la la la

Well, it's another Monday. Another day in the neverending cycle of home-work-errands-home. I wish I weren't a grown-up sometimes. No bills, no car accidents, no major responsibilites... I would miss the few things I enjoy - drinking, driving and sex (not in that order, mind you).

The only thing I got really stressed about in my childhood years (that I was concious of, anyway) was grades. And boy, did grades stress me out when I was still young and eager to please. (That eagerness came to an abrupt halt in high school for various reasons.) I don't know why I was so afraid to disappoint my parents - I guess every kid is when they are young and their parents' approval still means everything to them. My sister was always very ambitious in school and always had straight A's, so the pressure to keep up was on.

I was such a nerd. I used to have nightmares about unfinished school projects during the summer. In fact, I actually contemplated running away in 7th grade because I was going to get a "C" in Home Economics due to the fact that I was so anal, all my projects were turned in late.

Oh, if that were my worst problem now... I would be a happy, happy girl.

***********************************

Weekend update - ended up not doing a damn thing. It was POURING all day on Saturday, and the fairgrounds were acres and acres of complete muck on Sunday, so I ended up cancelling my cultural plans of going to the PowWow. Boooo I was actualy looking forward to that.

Had a really nice weekend with my man tho. We just stayed home and hung out and watched movies and talked and ate... it was a very relaxing weekend.

I find my cooking repertoire is expanding and going back to my roots at the same time in cooking for my man. My ex-husband always wanted chicken and pasta and pizza. That was about all I cooked for 9 years, except for an occasional break with fish here and there. He generally didn't eat pork and I wasn't good at cooking beef products, so chicken it was.

Now I find myself making the dishes my mom made growing up, because my man is from the South, too, but he also likes Mexican and Italian. So in the past few weeks, I've made fried chicken, chicken fried steak, chicken and dumplings - the biscuit kind (which I don't really dig on, but my man and the rugrats love it) , pork chops, enchiladas, white chicken chili, and various other dishes. I'm learning what cuts of beef are used for what dishes (because chicken is chicken, pretty much, so that was always easy). I've even learned how to make gravy from scratch.

(Dre - if you are reading this, I can hook you up with a good recipe for the fried chicken if you haven't found one - it's from my grandmother. And I still remember the fried chicken experiments at your old house. Boy, were we dumb. LOL)

All this fried stuff with gravy makes me sound like I must be big as a house, doesn't it? Well, for your information, I haven't gained a pound. In fact I've lost a few. Moderation is key, here, folks. But my cholesterol must be sky high. heh heh heh Oh well. Can't have everything.

********************

Blog design note - blog still looks the same, but the archives weren't updating and links weren't working, so they are now fixed. Yay!

Medical mysteries

Had a few medical things going on in my immediate family. My mom had some abnormalities show up on an ultrasound, with her kidneys and uterus, so she had an MRI and CT scan this week, but doesn't know the results yet. The good thing is that she feels fine - no lethargy or loss of appetite, etc., so hopefully these things are fluke abnormalities that are easily treatable.

The other thing is that my 4 year old, Ashlyn, needs surgery. Poor little pumpkin. She has a benign tumor in her cheek called a subepidermal calcified nodule that needs to be removed. Luckily, the tumor doesn't interfere with the physiology of her ear or parotid gland or facial nerves YET, but it could if the tumor is allowed to stay and continue to grow. Luckily, it is slow growing and is painless, but it needs to be removed so it won't cause any problems in the future.

She has a consultation with a pediatric plastic surgeon scheduled, then the surgery will be scheduled from there. It's a same day procedure, but she will have to be under general anesthesia because she's 4 and the surgeon can't take the chance of her moving during the surgery. I hate the thought of her going under the knife, even for something minor. :(

All I have to say is... thank god/dess for bubblegum flavored Children's Motrin. That is the only medicine she will take voluntarily. All other medications involve crying, screaming, kicking feet and ultimately, projectile vomitting. Linda Blair has NOTHING on my darling daughters, trust me.

Are you sure all you as-of-yet childless couples really WANT children? Yes, they are wonderful and hearing them laugh and watching them grow and discover the wonders of the world around them is truly magical... but jeez!

You don't know what 'worry' is until you have a child.

Friday Friday Friday!

Yes, I know I have been a big fat blog slacker this week. I have honestly been bored out of my skull and had nothing worthwhile to say.

The bad news: I have already read all my daily blog reads AND all the headlines AND I finished Panda Craze! So what the hell am I going to do all day? Actually work, you say? Bah!

The good news: there is a world of blogs out there that I have yet to discover. I'll find something to read to fill my day!

********************

Weekend plans:

After nookie and sleeping late, I actually DO have cultural plans for this weekend - there is a PowWow being held here, so my man and I are taking the girls to introduce them to a little of their long-lost heritage. There will be singing and dancing and merriment had by all, hopefully.


Have I ever mentioned on here that my man is Native American? Well, he is. And quite handsome, too. He grew up in Tahlequah, Oklahoma, the capital of the Cherokee Nation. Cool, hunh?

Plans for Labor Day weekend (I usually don't plan this far ahead, but this is a special case):

My dad is coming to visit! Yay! During the Renn Fest!! Double Yay! I love the Renn Fest! So does my dad! So do the girls! Rob has yet to go, so I will be popping his Renn Fest cherry this year. Yay again!

Or should I say 'huzzah'!

Best of Craigslist

Ok, it's Monday. And since it isn't Friday, I have absolutely nothing clever or witty or original to say.

I just want to go home and go to sleep (maybe get some nookie first, tho).

Anyway, since I have nothing original to say, I will paste stuff here from the Best of Craigslist that I find amusing, but that I didn't write myself. See... I am clever if not original today! Yay me!

An ad for a haunted toaster in Minneapolis:

Free white toaster that I think is haunted. My husband got it when his friend died, and I think his friend decided to hang around. His friend doesn't really like me, and likes to burn the toast. I got a new toaster, so I want to get rid of this one. If nobody wants it, though, I'm going to drop it off the roof.

Rave for Moe's and Joe's - a bar in Atlanta

What the hell gives you the right to serve delicious PBR until two in the morning for the low low price of 3.25/pitcher while simultaneously packing your homely little watering hole with young hotties? Its as if you've looked deep within my soul and discovered I have a serious problem controlling myself around these two things, then decided to make both of them readily accessible to the point of obsenity when I have to work in the morning. Fuck you Moe's and Joe's.

Pitchers #1 & 2: I arrive fashionably late. Meet up with 5 friends of mine. Small talk. Game 6. Go Pistons.

Pitcher #3: I introduce myself to friend's date. She looks like Jewel without the snaggle tooth. I remind myself this is my friend's date and I should keep Jewel fetish to myself.

Pitcher #4: Buddies and I spot woman who seems to be bestowed with the finest ass God has ever created. She is unfortunately surrounded by balding 30ish dudes and even worse, enjoying their attention. (If I was the bitter type, this is where I'd join the bandwagon and complain about Atlanta women being heartless golddiggers. However, I realize that at some point I will probably be 30ish, balding and still single. However I'll most likely be making more money than I currently do and it will be then that women like her will be attainable. For now, I'll just bide my time.)

Pitcher# 5: Jewel strikes up converstation with me while buddy is in bathroom. Asks me where I went to school, what I do, yadda yadda.... she's so hot. Cannot get 'Who Will Save Your Soul' out of my head. She can save mine any day. And by save my soul I obviously mean make sweet, sweet love to me in the back of the volkswagon van she is living out of while struggling to make it as a folk musician. Whoa... lost myself there for a second. Buddy comes back and Jewel seems to be ignoring buddy. Fuck. I mention something buddy does to remove myself from no-win situation and shift her focus back to him. Realize having a conscious is totally overrated.

Pitcher# 6: Pistons win and I give a fist pound to token thugged out black dude in booth behind me. Huge ass zircon ring cuts my knuckle wide open and I make a small sceen as I walk/bleed my way to the bar for medicinal beverage napkins. Thugged out black dude complains about the "white boy dat bleed on my bling". One buddy excuses himself because he "has to wake up early in the morning for work." I remind myself I have to do the same and should probably get going soon. I also taunt buddy for being a "raging pussy".

Pitcher# 7: I demand to know why bartender won't sell me pitcher# 8 with #7 because, goddamnit I have $6.50 burning a hole in my pocket and my friends are thirsty. Poor bartender repeatedly explains to me that ass crowded bar means not a whole lot of available pitchers and I am not the only one in the bar drinking. Fact that world does not revolve around me seems foreign and frustrating.

Pitcher# 8: Papa Roach song comes on the Jukebox and I loudly demand to know who in their right mind would play such a musical pile of dog shit. After a few minutes of ranting, I meet cute girl who hates shitty band as much as I do. 2 minutes into our Papa Roach bashing it becomes clear cute girl has even cuter moustache. Hate my luck as I always seem to have a chance with a cute girl with a major defect. Remind myself that I'm no longer in college and that I will regret taking her home.

Pitcher# 9: Jewel and buddy leave. I stand up on the seat of my booth and politely remind everybody at the bar that its a school night and they should probably start heading home just like my 2 "worthless friends". I've just been told by email that I also asked them to "fuck their mothers for me" while they're at it. (This probably scored me no points with Jewel in the event that she chooses to dump my buddy) Medicinal beverage napkins have fallen off and I am aware, but ambivalent to the fact that I am bleeding on my favorite t-shirt. I tell my 2 remaing friends I'm going to walk home. After this pitcher, of course. They berate me for all of 5 seconds before I give in and agree to stay.

Pitcher# 10: I challenge my 2 remaining (and jobless) friends to a game of quarters. Only to celebrate our 10th pitcher of the night I suggest we use dimes. I bring two quarters to the bar and ask for 5 dimes. Bartender hates me. I tip him 2 dimes for the exchange. Bartender hates me even more. Playing quarters with dimes not nearly as fun. Switch back to using quarters and destroy my friends. However, I do lose the game in which we've bet that the loser has to go and talk to amazing-ass-girl.

Pitcher# 11: I agree to bet on the grounds I don't have to pay for last pitcher. Friends agree. Walk over towards amazing ass girl feels incredibly slow. I cannot tell whether this is because her ass has me locked in its hypnotic tractor beam or because the gallon of beer I've drank so far probably has my BAC hovering around .25. I squeeze in between the 3 potbellied 30 somethings surrounding her and lean against the bar as I look her square in the eye. Her gaze meets mine and I am slightly disappointed at my first good look at her face. I tell her so. This apparently makes me an asshole and largest 30 something kindly informs me that I'll have to "move my skinny ass before he runs it over". I ask him whether or not that meant he mistook me for a homosexual and that I'm flattered, but not gay. 2 remaining (jobless, but caring) friends take it upon themselves to escort me home. I am disappointed because large 30 something and I had so much to talk about.

Zig zag my way home and wake up fully clothed. Awesome.

So now I'm sitting at my desk. Its almost noon and the 800 pound gorilla playing the cymbals in my head has not stopped since 7am. My farts smell like limburger and death. I've nodded off twice. Thank you Moe's and Joe's. Thank you for nothing.

See you next Tuesday.

That one was long... but funny. I have done an approximation of the same, but with tequila, not beer. I can't drink that much beer without yakking. Something about the carbonation. Blech.