I hate pain. In any sense. There are some people out there that claim they like pain. And I think those people are full of crap. How can anyone like pain? How does anyone like to hurt? Maybe there's an answer to that question that I don't want to know. If I could cock (yes, I said cock) my eyebrow, I would. I can't. My face is way too lazy to do something as fun as that. Although, just for the record, I have always been very jealous of people that could do that. I used to date this guy and he would...............
THAT is NOT the story I came here to tell. Nor do you want to hear it.
Just under a week ago, I got this sharp pain in my back. Right smack between my shoulder blades. At first it was this annoying pain and as the night went on, that pain traveled up my right shoulder, as well as under my right arm..........into my chest and up the right side of my neck. By the time I went home from work, I hurt so bad, I didn't dare turn my neck.
I figured I was stressed a little bit because we were on the tail end of that "car thing" and I was a little on the bitchy side. Okay, a lot. Ask my husband. That poor man. Anyway, I figured it would go away after I slept it off.
It didn't go away. Matter of fact, it kept me from getting any really good kind of sleep. And that just made me crankier. Again, I say.....my poor husband. (If you tell him I said that, I will DENY, DENY, DENY!!) The pain lasted about two days and then it went away. Super! I knew I could suffer through it.
One whole day without the pain and guess what. Yep!! It came back. This time it didn't creep in on me. It all came back full force. Like it was pissed at me or something. I don't know why it would be pissed at me. I was the one babying it for shit's sake!
So two more days of it and I couldn't stand it. I was miserable no matter what I did. I couldn't stand. I couldn't sit. I couldn't lay down. I couldn't lean against the wall. I couldn't bend over. Hell, I couldn't breathe. At least not without pain. I would JUST find a spot that would be "good enough" to try to relax in and quick as that.....it was gone. I was back to miserable again.
And that shit got old fast. A co-worker told me to go see Lucy. Lucy could help. She is covered under our insurance...well her services are anyway....and what could it hurt? Maybe...just maybe, she would fix whatever it is this was.
I am not one to have many back problems. I like to lay on the floor. Always have been. Matter of fact, my mom used to live in an apartment that had a concrete floor under the carpet and padding and that was where I could sleep like a log. I always knew my back would be supported and straight.
Matilda has a lot of back problems. Lower back problems. I keep telling her it is because her boobies are too big. She either needs to get them chopped off or find a man to help carry that shit around. She's going to fall over on her head one of these days and not be able to get up.
But I don't want to talk about my sister's boobies. Gross. I don't even like to talk about mine without getting in the shower afterward. Boobies are gross. To me.
I made the appointment with Lucy. The chiropractor. And I was pretty nervous. Oh, who am I kidding. I was scared shitless. This was my very first time with a chiropractor so it didn't help that my co-workers told me things like, "Take 800 mg of Ibuprofen before you go so you don't hurt as much afterward." If my eyebrows could have raised at that point, they would have. And high! And then there's the, "Oh you get to hear all that cracking."
Okay okay that almost made me cancel. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's the souond of someone cracking every damned bone in their body. Now, I am not perfect. I do crack my knuckles. And I love that feeling. The sound not so much though. It makes me want to hurt. Literally. Especially when it's someone's neck. Gross!
The whole time I was driving north to see Lucy, I was hearing the advice from my co-workers and the sound of those tables. The first time I heard one of those tables moving, I just about ran out the door. I'm sure I lost all color in my body. I thanked God that day that I was not going through that office door to be worked on. I was told that it was the table and not someone's body but how was I to know?
I get to Lucy's business and she's in with another client so I have to wait. And the room is little and I don't want to sit because it hurts. So I pace. And it hurts. So I stop and read the stuff on the walls (the artwork...they don't write on the walls or anything like that). And it hurts.
I try to think about the last couple of times I had been here. Once was to get a brazillian wax job and the other was for a massage. Both of those experiences I enjoyed getting and I don't like my back touched. I remembered as Lauren started my massage and I kinda forgot that I didn't like my back touched. That was an awesome experience. I was so happy with it that I swore I wouldn't go have another one unless I had a driver because I was so relaxed, I almost fell asleep driving home.
Good memories though. How bad can this be, right?
Lucy makes her way out and gives me some paperwork to do. I sit (and want to cry) and fill it out. I hope she can read my writing. I scribbled. Something I don't normally do. But I needed to get past that whole sitting still thing. Before I died. And I was pretty sure I was close to death.
Into the little room we go where again...I sit. I didn't have to. She told me I could stand if I needed to. But then I would feel like a twelve foot giant as she sat on her chair. She told me all the bad things that COULD happen. You know the things.....how I could feel worse after this or how I could have a stroke. Nothing too exciting.
She tells me to stand up at the end of the table. The table that is already standing up. I step up next to it and the table starts going down. Oh shit. Where are my hands supposed to go??? "Where do I put my hands? I don't want them to get caught in something." I'm pretty sure I sounded like a fricken idiot but all the same, it made me forget, for a second, that I was in pain.
Next thing I know, I am laying face down on this table that was JUST standing up. I need a bed like this! Would make "making the bed" a whole lot easier!! Lucy starts in rubbing my back. And I start moaning like she's killing me. Poor Lucy. I am beginning to feel sorry for most that have to deal with me when in a bad mood, sick or hurting.
She engages me in conversation. I couldn't even tell you what it was. Oh yes I can!!! She was asking me about my blogs! Ha ha. So again, that took my mind off of my direct pain as she worked her magic. The next thing I know, she drops this little piece of table out from under me and presses on my back and I feel this little pop and................"OHHHHHHHH YEAHHHHHHH!!!" Now that I think back, I'm glad we were the only two in the building. I felt like such a virgin!
Table goes up and I'm thinking "Oh I want some more of that" when she tells me to turn around so that I will be laying on my back. Again, the table starts to go down and I must have looked like I was panicking because she assured me this wasn't a roller coaster and I didn't have to hang on. She doesn't know me very well. I needed to hang on to something. So I hung onto myself and prayed that I didn't roll off this thing.
And I didn't. Dammit she was right. She starts rubbing around my neck and head and again we are talking away. I felt like I should have been sitting up and having this done though. I felt like my head was three times bigger than normal and it was in the way! She starts telling me where to put my arms (oh now you want me to put them down!) and where to look and next thing I know, she pops my neck.
Again..."OOOHHHHHHHH." The sound was deafening in my ears though. I hated it. She asked me if I was going to vomit and I told her no. I wasn't going to vomit. Because if I did, I would have had to swallow it. Remember, I was on my back. Pretty sneaky of her, wasn't it? So we did the other side and up I went.
I moved my head from side to side and didn't have to turn my whole body. THAT was nice. THAT was worth it. THAT made me very happy. The pain was absolutely and totally gone from my shoulder and underarm. And it still is. My neck is still a little sore when I look to the left but it's so much better than it was.
Who says there's no such thing as a fast fix? That was mine. I was able to go home and sleep. Sleep deep. Sleep good. Sleep comfortably.
I'm so glad I went to see Lucy. It helps that I kinda knew her before going in because I was comfortable with her already. And I'm glad I didn't vomit on her. Or on her table. Or in my mouth. I'm sure she's just as glad. Up until this happened, I had never been to a chiropractor in my life and quite honestly questioned how good it could be. It was so much better than going to a doctor and so much easier.
Until next time...........watch your back.
2012/07/29
2012/07/28
Rhoden Auto Center, this is for you
Whoa! Thought I got lost, didn't ya? Well so did I! I hate that I feel too busy to get to everything I think I should get to. I don't even have THAT much going on in my life but I feel like I have been pulled in seventeen directions. All different ones, at that.
And I have a bunch of stuff to talk to you about. I have notes. And more notes. My phone is getting full. I'm back to carrying my daily planner (because I forgot to come to work one night) and making notes there as well. I am warning you; you never know what you're going to get when you come here.
Now I just need to decide which one to talk about. I guess we'll go with my car. It's been a pretty hot topic lately. In more ways than one.
For those that don't know, Gee and I have been driving old, worn-out, beat up vehicles for quite some time. Not because we didn't have the means to go get us more vehicles, but because we are cheap. Why fix it if it aint broke, right?
Well it got pretty damned hot this past couple of months. And we were both driving vehicles that didn't have air. Nobody wanted to ride with us. Hell, WE didn't even want to ride with us. I was constantly begging Matilda to take us places.
Anyway, you already know that my dream of owning a Volkswagen beetle was crushed by that dickhead banker in C-ville. And the last thing I told you was that Rhoden Auto came to our rescue and found me the car of my dreams. Well they did. And they didn't.
They sent me home in this beautiful little silver ice Pontiac G6
and said they would give us a call the next day with the banker's info (since it was about 2000 hrs in the night when we finally got a car picked out and the papers filled out) and we would decide what day we would come back out and do the "official signing" of the papers.
Friday went by and we heard nothing. Saturday went by and we heard nothing. Sunday they were closed so I didn't expect to hear from them and guess what, we didn't. So Monday rolls around and we STILL don't hear anything from them. That made me a little nervous. So we call and leave a message and tell them to call us back.
Tuesday, the salesman calls Gee and says, "Look, this isn't going to work out. Your credit score isn't high enough (that's what we are trying to do!) and the bank just isn't going to go for it. If you want, come back out and we will find you another car." Sounded perfectly reasonable to me. Sounded perfectly honest to me as well.
We drove back out there (mind you, when I say we drove back, that means we drove back a hundred miles one way). We both had to work early the next morning and we were already hot and tired but we did it because we wanted to have this car buying experience over with.
We decided on a Ford Fusion.
Gray in color and it had some hail damage.
It was about thirty five hundred dollars cheaper, had about ten thousand less miles on it and the salesman told us that we would only have to make payments for three years on this one instead of the four years that we originally thought we would have on the Pontiac.
Cool beans. We go home and life is good. This time they told us that we wouldn't hear from them until Friday and that we would more than likely need to plan on coming back out on Monday to finish up paperwork unless we could get it done by fax.
And that was my plan. Fax everything I could fax. They wanted a utility bill. I gave them that. They wanted a phone bill. I gave them that. They wanted Gee's last three paystubs. I couldn't give them that because he works for a very small company and they get a handwritten check. (I told them this the very first time we were there though)
Gee's boss had a paper written up, on company letterhead, and signed, that showed Gee's gross income in one column, every deduction made from that week's check in a corresponding column and the last column had his net wages. And they did this for the past six months. At four checks a month, that's a lot of information (that they went over and beyond to get us). I faxed it in. It wasn't good enough. They wanted the stubs.
I literally almost had to go out there and shake that stubborn S.O.B. because he couldn't grasp that someone gets paid with a handwritten check. The next thing he asked for was Gee's bank statements. He wanted to show the financier that they could prove Gee's income by his bank accounts. That wasn't going to work for us either because Gee ONLY puts in enough money to cover his bills. After that, he keeps his cash so he knows how much money he has to get him through.
They did not like that one bit. And they were pretty vocal about it too. I faxed them a copy of Gee's income tax return & W2 statement and THOSE were not even good enough for them. They said those weren't very good proof of income. I said They're good enough for the I.R.S.!" Un-freaking-believable!!
So here comes Monday and by noon we haven't heard anything from Rhoden's. Gee gets off work early because it's so hot and he calls them. And he gets their voicemail. And it got pretty hot for me then too. I called up and asked for the financial department. Of course I got his voicemail too. Here's how it went.
"This is the voicemail for Jerry Jackass. I'm away from my desk so leave me a message and I will return your call as soon as possible." Switch the phone from right to left because this phone calls is about to get dominated on my end. "This is Amelia. Wife of Gee. Come get your car. We are tired of getting screwed around by your company and we are not wasting anymore of OUR time or OUR money to bring your cars back to you. You have done nothing short of jack us around. I will be waiting for your call."
About an hour later, I get a call from the salesman asking me what's going on and I told him that they need to come get the car because they didn't hold up their end of the deal. They made promises they couldn't keep and we were done. I told him about EVERYTHING I had faxed and sent them and this is what he told me, "This really pisses me off. I am going to go talk to Jerry right now and I WILL be calling you back."
He must have lost my number because HE never called me back. I'm not shocked. In the least. Some man, whom I can't remember his name right now, did eventually call back and Gee told him we were done screwing with this and they needed to pick the car up. He told him that not only did we stop payment on the check, but we had the insurance taken off as well. Neither of these things had happened yet but they didn't need to know that.
First thing next morning, that was all done. And later that afternoon, they came and got their car. Phew. Done with those idiots. Twenty years of loyal service with them and they messed it all up. Arivederci.
Gee took this opportunity to go to the bank and get himself a loan for a pickup he had been eyeing.
He took two pieces of paper with him to get the loan. A copy of his drivers license and the copy of his wages.
I took a few more days to find "the car" that felt like it loved me as much as I needed to love it. And yesterday I found that car. Wait...............get this. It's a Pontiac G6 (same as the first car that Rhoden's screwed us out of) and it's gray (same as the second car Rhoden's screwed us out of).
The neat thing about this color though is that sometimes it looks gray, sometimes it looks blue and sometimes it looks green. I love that.
It has an awesome sunroof with four settings and sometimes, when I am sitting in it, I understand the movie Christine! HA! I had to drive my baby on gravel yesterday. Twenty five miles per hour. Didn't even kick up any dust. Went by a farmhouse and two dogs came out to chase me and ended up just jogging beside me, more curious about what I was doing than worrying about me being a threat to them!
The stereo has a DVD player in it. I hate it. It won't be staying.
Hey, do you wanna buy a car stereo??? Until next time my friends.............do the dance. The rain dance. We need it. We need it badly.
And I have a bunch of stuff to talk to you about. I have notes. And more notes. My phone is getting full. I'm back to carrying my daily planner (because I forgot to come to work one night) and making notes there as well. I am warning you; you never know what you're going to get when you come here.
Now I just need to decide which one to talk about. I guess we'll go with my car. It's been a pretty hot topic lately. In more ways than one.
For those that don't know, Gee and I have been driving old, worn-out, beat up vehicles for quite some time. Not because we didn't have the means to go get us more vehicles, but because we are cheap. Why fix it if it aint broke, right?
Well it got pretty damned hot this past couple of months. And we were both driving vehicles that didn't have air. Nobody wanted to ride with us. Hell, WE didn't even want to ride with us. I was constantly begging Matilda to take us places.
Anyway, you already know that my dream of owning a Volkswagen beetle was crushed by that dickhead banker in C-ville. And the last thing I told you was that Rhoden Auto came to our rescue and found me the car of my dreams. Well they did. And they didn't.
They sent me home in this beautiful little silver ice Pontiac G6
and said they would give us a call the next day with the banker's info (since it was about 2000 hrs in the night when we finally got a car picked out and the papers filled out) and we would decide what day we would come back out and do the "official signing" of the papers. Friday went by and we heard nothing. Saturday went by and we heard nothing. Sunday they were closed so I didn't expect to hear from them and guess what, we didn't. So Monday rolls around and we STILL don't hear anything from them. That made me a little nervous. So we call and leave a message and tell them to call us back.
Tuesday, the salesman calls Gee and says, "Look, this isn't going to work out. Your credit score isn't high enough (that's what we are trying to do!) and the bank just isn't going to go for it. If you want, come back out and we will find you another car." Sounded perfectly reasonable to me. Sounded perfectly honest to me as well.
We drove back out there (mind you, when I say we drove back, that means we drove back a hundred miles one way). We both had to work early the next morning and we were already hot and tired but we did it because we wanted to have this car buying experience over with.
We decided on a Ford Fusion. Gray in color and it had some hail damage.
It was about thirty five hundred dollars cheaper, had about ten thousand less miles on it and the salesman told us that we would only have to make payments for three years on this one instead of the four years that we originally thought we would have on the Pontiac.
Cool beans. We go home and life is good. This time they told us that we wouldn't hear from them until Friday and that we would more than likely need to plan on coming back out on Monday to finish up paperwork unless we could get it done by fax.
And that was my plan. Fax everything I could fax. They wanted a utility bill. I gave them that. They wanted a phone bill. I gave them that. They wanted Gee's last three paystubs. I couldn't give them that because he works for a very small company and they get a handwritten check. (I told them this the very first time we were there though)
Gee's boss had a paper written up, on company letterhead, and signed, that showed Gee's gross income in one column, every deduction made from that week's check in a corresponding column and the last column had his net wages. And they did this for the past six months. At four checks a month, that's a lot of information (that they went over and beyond to get us). I faxed it in. It wasn't good enough. They wanted the stubs.
I literally almost had to go out there and shake that stubborn S.O.B. because he couldn't grasp that someone gets paid with a handwritten check. The next thing he asked for was Gee's bank statements. He wanted to show the financier that they could prove Gee's income by his bank accounts. That wasn't going to work for us either because Gee ONLY puts in enough money to cover his bills. After that, he keeps his cash so he knows how much money he has to get him through.
They did not like that one bit. And they were pretty vocal about it too. I faxed them a copy of Gee's income tax return & W2 statement and THOSE were not even good enough for them. They said those weren't very good proof of income. I said They're good enough for the I.R.S.!" Un-freaking-believable!!
So here comes Monday and by noon we haven't heard anything from Rhoden's. Gee gets off work early because it's so hot and he calls them. And he gets their voicemail. And it got pretty hot for me then too. I called up and asked for the financial department. Of course I got his voicemail too. Here's how it went.
"This is the voicemail for Jerry Jackass. I'm away from my desk so leave me a message and I will return your call as soon as possible." Switch the phone from right to left because this phone calls is about to get dominated on my end. "This is Amelia. Wife of Gee. Come get your car. We are tired of getting screwed around by your company and we are not wasting anymore of OUR time or OUR money to bring your cars back to you. You have done nothing short of jack us around. I will be waiting for your call."
About an hour later, I get a call from the salesman asking me what's going on and I told him that they need to come get the car because they didn't hold up their end of the deal. They made promises they couldn't keep and we were done. I told him about EVERYTHING I had faxed and sent them and this is what he told me, "This really pisses me off. I am going to go talk to Jerry right now and I WILL be calling you back."
He must have lost my number because HE never called me back. I'm not shocked. In the least. Some man, whom I can't remember his name right now, did eventually call back and Gee told him we were done screwing with this and they needed to pick the car up. He told him that not only did we stop payment on the check, but we had the insurance taken off as well. Neither of these things had happened yet but they didn't need to know that.
First thing next morning, that was all done. And later that afternoon, they came and got their car. Phew. Done with those idiots. Twenty years of loyal service with them and they messed it all up. Arivederci.
Gee took this opportunity to go to the bank and get himself a loan for a pickup he had been eyeing.
He took two pieces of paper with him to get the loan. A copy of his drivers license and the copy of his wages.
I took a few more days to find "the car" that felt like it loved me as much as I needed to love it. And yesterday I found that car. Wait...............get this. It's a Pontiac G6 (same as the first car that Rhoden's screwed us out of) and it's gray (same as the second car Rhoden's screwed us out of).
The neat thing about this color though is that sometimes it looks gray, sometimes it looks blue and sometimes it looks green. I love that.It has an awesome sunroof with four settings and sometimes, when I am sitting in it, I understand the movie Christine! HA! I had to drive my baby on gravel yesterday. Twenty five miles per hour. Didn't even kick up any dust. Went by a farmhouse and two dogs came out to chase me and ended up just jogging beside me, more curious about what I was doing than worrying about me being a threat to them!
The stereo has a DVD player in it. I hate it. It won't be staying.
Hey, do you wanna buy a car stereo??? Until next time my friends.............do the dance. The rain dance. We need it. We need it badly.
2012/07/22
Why I WON'T be attending this year
Here I am, coming off of a weekend all about family. A family that I have always looked forward to being around. A family that is about love and hugs and kisses and laughter and joking and...........FAMILY. Make sense? I have this warm fuzzy feeling in the pit of my stomach. A happy warm.
Burrowing deep inside though.....under that happy warm.....is a fire. A small one at this point but I feel like I am feeding it and it's getting bigger and if I follow through with what I "should" do, it will be like adding fuel to the fire. If I do what I "want" to do, the fire could go out. Not completely out.....but it could go back to a smolder. Until another time when it's not so dry out. Where it could spread. AND, if I do what I "want," it's going to probably piss off a couple of people.
I'm trying to balance the scales out here and see which is the lesser evil...in the long run. If I do what I "should," I am probably going to say some things to several people that are going to hurt; both me and them. Not untruths by any means.....just very unpleasant truths. If I go with what I "want," a person...or two...no, probably just one person...is going to be very unhappy with me. *sigh*
I'm not good at trying to make people happy and I'm REALLY not good at choosing which people I need...or want...to make happy. We all know we can't please everyone and we all know that people get their feelers hurt everyday but still.....I hate making these decisions. Here goes my story.
Like I said at the beginning.....the family reunion that I just attended was awesome. I look forward to seeing most of those people all year long. It's my dad's side of the family. He's one of twelve. There have been family spats...family fights...but we just work through them and move on.
In two weeks, I have another family reunion to go to. It's my mom's side of the family. Don't get me wrong. I love my family. The good parts, the bad parts and the ugly parts BUT...someone has pissed me off. Yes, someone has pissed in my wheaties and I don't like it one bit.
One night Gee, Matila and I went back to the hometown and I was going to meet up with some classmates at the bar. Well apparently I got the wrong memo because I ended up sitting with my family after all. No matter. We had a great time. We were joined by many friends and Gee pumped me full of liquid balls (to reinforce the ones I apparently already have) all night. We drank. We danced. We drank. We laughed. We drank. We made fun of each other. And then we drank some more.
My cousin showed up. I am going to name him Phil because I don't like that name. Sorry if you are reading this and your name is Phil. I don't like it. Don't take it personally. Unless you're my asshole cousin Phil.
Then I want you to take each and every word as personally as you can. Because in all honesty, I can't stand the fricken sight of you.
Phil is a divorced alcoholic man that thinks his opinion is the only opinion that matters. If he says it, it is so. Yeah...that's what he thinks. Well, this particular night, ole Phil tried to get in my sister's face about being friends with his ex-wife on Facebook. Yes, this is truly what started it. I jumped right in the middle of it because NOBODY is going to talk down to MY Matilda!! I told him that not only is SHE friends with the ex-wife but I am also friends with her and "I talk to her all time time and I still think of her as family."
Take that you bastard.
He pointed his stoopid little finger at me and said "What did you say?" So I repeated it and added "What are you going to do about it?" He looked me square in the eye and said, "You will be dis-owned." Ha-ha-f***ing-ha Phil, you stoopid ignorant alcoholic doody head. I turned around to walk out and started laughing at him. He yells at me as I'm leaving, "Hey, dont you walk away from me! Get back here! HEY" Yes, I left. Because it was going to get ugly if I didn't.
Let me just get this out in the open here for everybody to know. Phil's ex-wife is an amazing mom. She has raised her children to be polite and caring. I do still think of her as family and always will. There are just people like that, ya know??!!?? She is beautiful inside and outside and would never harm a soul. She and the children do not live here. They live far away in another land. A land of sunshine and tropical flowers. -_-
The children get to come and see their dad quite a bit and spend most of their summers with him. Well, guess what. The minute they hit their dad's house, they aren't supposed to talk to me. How childish is that? And I don't blame the kids one bit. At least not now. They are young. They probably feel like they have to do certain things to make their parents happy. I'm good with that. What has my smolders starting to flame is that he is filling their heads with bullshit that isn't right.
If it wasn't for their mom, he wouldn't have those beautiful children. But I'm sure he hasn't been sober long enough since they were born to realize that. Without her, he would be alone. And although that is what I wish for the ignorant bastard, he should count his blessings that he has them. I can only imagine the kind of lifestyle he is teaching them though, when they are with him.
"Kids, you can only drink THIS kind of beer. And if you don't drink THIS MANY of THIS kind of beer EVERY day....well you are not a very good kid." That's how I envision it.
"Kids, you have to grow up thinking that if the people around you can't think EXACTLY how YOU think, well then.....you are an idiot. And those people shouldn't be in your life. No matter how good they are." That's how I envision that too.
Did I mention that Phil is an alcoholic? I probably haven't seen him one hundred percent sober for twenty years or more. True story. Grow up asshole. Get help.
Here's another reason I don't look forward to going to this side's reunion. There is ALWAYS alcohol involved. Not just one or two people that have a coozie. Most everybody has beer or whisky or something of that sort. It reminds me of my class reunions. Which might be why I have never attended one. When do people realize that not everything needs to revolve around alcohol? When are we supposed to grow up?
Now, don't get me wrong. I have done my share of drinking and partying in the past. And once a year (if I'm lucky), I like to have a few beers. But for the most part...I don't like to drink. I just don't care for it. And when I do have a drink, I have a glass or two of wine. I do not drink and drive. If I don't have a driver, I don't drink. I guess I grew up somewhere along the line.
And now I have a job that I love. A job that I take very seriously. I may joke around a lot about my job and sometimes even at work but never when the general public is around and never AT THE TIME I'm doing it. And at my job, I have seen mean drunks, funny drunks, violent drunks and drunk that can't stand up on their own. These people aren't very impressive to me. I don't understand the "alcoholism" part of drinking. I don't know why it's fun for anyone or why they think it helps solve any problems. Day after day after day after day.
Two years ago, this side of the family had a reunion and I did not attend.
Reason #1: I guess there is some rule that if people work for hog facilities, they can't just go on anyone's property. Something about bringing different germs, etc. back with them. Well I have a cousin, and we will call him Phil also (for the same reason). He is a brother to the first Phil. (Good luck following this) Well Phil works at one hog facility and my cousin's husband works at a different hog facility. See how that could pose a problem? My other cousin and her family wouldn't be able to attend because Phil was hosting the reunion at his home. He could have hosted it anywhere else but he chose to do it at his home. I didn't think that was fair so there was my first reason.
Reason #2: Phil's wife is a snatch. I don't like her. Can you tell? (Obviously I mean the second Phil) I was at their house the day before the reunion and was asking her questions (because I hadn't gotten any details) and she fired at me "I gave all the information to Marta. If she didn't give it to you, that's your problem." Phil's wife is a C U Next Tuesday -_- Yes she is. And her Phil is an alcoholic too. He just doesn't know when to stop and he doesn't give a shit what he says, who he says it to, who he pisses off, nothing. But if you piss HIM off, you are going to have to take an ad out in the damned New York Times to apologize. And then it has to be followed up by an apology on national TV. You know, because he's that important. At least that's what he thinks.
Pshhh, kiss my ass Phil's. I can't stand you. And you (the first Phil more than the second) are the reason I am not going to attend another reunion. The people that I need to see there aren't going to be there anyway. They are all passed away. The people that I want to see, I can see any day I want. And I do. Regularly. Or I talk to them on Facebook.
The one person that is probably going to get her panties in a wad is Marta. She's the one hosting it. And I hope she doesn't think I'm doing it for any other reason. She knows how I feel about Phil. Oh well *sigh* I can't please everyone.
Burrowing deep inside though.....under that happy warm.....is a fire. A small one at this point but I feel like I am feeding it and it's getting bigger and if I follow through with what I "should" do, it will be like adding fuel to the fire. If I do what I "want" to do, the fire could go out. Not completely out.....but it could go back to a smolder. Until another time when it's not so dry out. Where it could spread. AND, if I do what I "want," it's going to probably piss off a couple of people.
I'm trying to balance the scales out here and see which is the lesser evil...in the long run. If I do what I "should," I am probably going to say some things to several people that are going to hurt; both me and them. Not untruths by any means.....just very unpleasant truths. If I go with what I "want," a person...or two...no, probably just one person...is going to be very unhappy with me. *sigh*
I'm not good at trying to make people happy and I'm REALLY not good at choosing which people I need...or want...to make happy. We all know we can't please everyone and we all know that people get their feelers hurt everyday but still.....I hate making these decisions. Here goes my story.
Like I said at the beginning.....the family reunion that I just attended was awesome. I look forward to seeing most of those people all year long. It's my dad's side of the family. He's one of twelve. There have been family spats...family fights...but we just work through them and move on.
In two weeks, I have another family reunion to go to. It's my mom's side of the family. Don't get me wrong. I love my family. The good parts, the bad parts and the ugly parts BUT...someone has pissed me off. Yes, someone has pissed in my wheaties and I don't like it one bit.
One night Gee, Matila and I went back to the hometown and I was going to meet up with some classmates at the bar. Well apparently I got the wrong memo because I ended up sitting with my family after all. No matter. We had a great time. We were joined by many friends and Gee pumped me full of liquid balls (to reinforce the ones I apparently already have) all night. We drank. We danced. We drank. We laughed. We drank. We made fun of each other. And then we drank some more.
My cousin showed up. I am going to name him Phil because I don't like that name. Sorry if you are reading this and your name is Phil. I don't like it. Don't take it personally. Unless you're my asshole cousin Phil.
Then I want you to take each and every word as personally as you can. Because in all honesty, I can't stand the fricken sight of you.
Phil is a divorced alcoholic man that thinks his opinion is the only opinion that matters. If he says it, it is so. Yeah...that's what he thinks. Well, this particular night, ole Phil tried to get in my sister's face about being friends with his ex-wife on Facebook. Yes, this is truly what started it. I jumped right in the middle of it because NOBODY is going to talk down to MY Matilda!! I told him that not only is SHE friends with the ex-wife but I am also friends with her and "I talk to her all time time and I still think of her as family."
Take that you bastard.
He pointed his stoopid little finger at me and said "What did you say?" So I repeated it and added "What are you going to do about it?" He looked me square in the eye and said, "You will be dis-owned." Ha-ha-f***ing-ha Phil, you stoopid ignorant alcoholic doody head. I turned around to walk out and started laughing at him. He yells at me as I'm leaving, "Hey, dont you walk away from me! Get back here! HEY" Yes, I left. Because it was going to get ugly if I didn't.
Let me just get this out in the open here for everybody to know. Phil's ex-wife is an amazing mom. She has raised her children to be polite and caring. I do still think of her as family and always will. There are just people like that, ya know??!!?? She is beautiful inside and outside and would never harm a soul. She and the children do not live here. They live far away in another land. A land of sunshine and tropical flowers. -_-
The children get to come and see their dad quite a bit and spend most of their summers with him. Well, guess what. The minute they hit their dad's house, they aren't supposed to talk to me. How childish is that? And I don't blame the kids one bit. At least not now. They are young. They probably feel like they have to do certain things to make their parents happy. I'm good with that. What has my smolders starting to flame is that he is filling their heads with bullshit that isn't right.
If it wasn't for their mom, he wouldn't have those beautiful children. But I'm sure he hasn't been sober long enough since they were born to realize that. Without her, he would be alone. And although that is what I wish for the ignorant bastard, he should count his blessings that he has them. I can only imagine the kind of lifestyle he is teaching them though, when they are with him.
"Kids, you can only drink THIS kind of beer. And if you don't drink THIS MANY of THIS kind of beer EVERY day....well you are not a very good kid." That's how I envision it.
"Kids, you have to grow up thinking that if the people around you can't think EXACTLY how YOU think, well then.....you are an idiot. And those people shouldn't be in your life. No matter how good they are." That's how I envision that too.
Did I mention that Phil is an alcoholic? I probably haven't seen him one hundred percent sober for twenty years or more. True story. Grow up asshole. Get help.
Here's another reason I don't look forward to going to this side's reunion. There is ALWAYS alcohol involved. Not just one or two people that have a coozie. Most everybody has beer or whisky or something of that sort. It reminds me of my class reunions. Which might be why I have never attended one. When do people realize that not everything needs to revolve around alcohol? When are we supposed to grow up?
Now, don't get me wrong. I have done my share of drinking and partying in the past. And once a year (if I'm lucky), I like to have a few beers. But for the most part...I don't like to drink. I just don't care for it. And when I do have a drink, I have a glass or two of wine. I do not drink and drive. If I don't have a driver, I don't drink. I guess I grew up somewhere along the line.
And now I have a job that I love. A job that I take very seriously. I may joke around a lot about my job and sometimes even at work but never when the general public is around and never AT THE TIME I'm doing it. And at my job, I have seen mean drunks, funny drunks, violent drunks and drunk that can't stand up on their own. These people aren't very impressive to me. I don't understand the "alcoholism" part of drinking. I don't know why it's fun for anyone or why they think it helps solve any problems. Day after day after day after day.
Two years ago, this side of the family had a reunion and I did not attend.
Reason #1: I guess there is some rule that if people work for hog facilities, they can't just go on anyone's property. Something about bringing different germs, etc. back with them. Well I have a cousin, and we will call him Phil also (for the same reason). He is a brother to the first Phil. (Good luck following this) Well Phil works at one hog facility and my cousin's husband works at a different hog facility. See how that could pose a problem? My other cousin and her family wouldn't be able to attend because Phil was hosting the reunion at his home. He could have hosted it anywhere else but he chose to do it at his home. I didn't think that was fair so there was my first reason.
Reason #2: Phil's wife is a snatch. I don't like her. Can you tell? (Obviously I mean the second Phil) I was at their house the day before the reunion and was asking her questions (because I hadn't gotten any details) and she fired at me "I gave all the information to Marta. If she didn't give it to you, that's your problem." Phil's wife is a C U Next Tuesday -_- Yes she is. And her Phil is an alcoholic too. He just doesn't know when to stop and he doesn't give a shit what he says, who he says it to, who he pisses off, nothing. But if you piss HIM off, you are going to have to take an ad out in the damned New York Times to apologize. And then it has to be followed up by an apology on national TV. You know, because he's that important. At least that's what he thinks.
Pshhh, kiss my ass Phil's. I can't stand you. And you (the first Phil more than the second) are the reason I am not going to attend another reunion. The people that I need to see there aren't going to be there anyway. They are all passed away. The people that I want to see, I can see any day I want. And I do. Regularly. Or I talk to them on Facebook.
The one person that is probably going to get her panties in a wad is Marta. She's the one hosting it. And I hope she doesn't think I'm doing it for any other reason. She knows how I feel about Phil. Oh well *sigh* I can't please everyone.
2012/07/21
Trying out public speaking on my family
Remember a while back when I said that I was going to write something up and read it at my family reunion? Well I did it. And I didn't even shake........too much. And I didn't cry. And I survived. And it was a hit. Here goes...............
What do you think of when you think of your Bedelia family? A lot of stuff comes to my mind. A lot of memories. A lot of fun times. And a few that weren't so fun.
I remember when we were growing up, we would all climb into the family station wagon and head to the town of O. I always looked forward to it because it meant that I was going to get to play with those cousins that I only got to see and play with during the family reunion.
It meant that I was going to get to see all my aunts and uncles that I didn't get to see very often. Although I didn't always appreciate the hugs and kisses that I was showered with, I took 'em like a soldier. Because that's what you did. It was called respect for your elders. Sadly, this is something that has gotten lost with time.
When I think of my Bedelia family, I think of my Grandma and Grandpa Bedelia's home. It was so big to me back then. It seemed like there were a million and one places to hide as well as a million and one places that we weren't even supposed to be in! Remember the beauty shop on the front porch? I could have spent every day of my summer in that room!
And the day I learned that the little kitchen table went up into the wall, I was pretty sure they had found a secret that nobody else in the world had found. I had never seen anything like that before and thought that might have been the smartest invention ever. I loved that the bathroom had two doors in it. Until people started walking in on me when I was trying to use the toilet!
There were two places that I wasn't allowed to play in at Grandma and Grandpa's house. The basement and the creamery building. The only time I could go down in the basement was when I was needed to help carry jars of food up or empty ones down. And the only time I was allowed in the creamery was if Grandpa was with me. He was sure I would get hurt in there.
Apparently Grandpa had me mixed up with some of the other ornery grandkids because I was the angel. The shy and quiet one. I'm sure it was hard for him to keep everybody straight though. They had like six hundred grandkids. It's okay though. The creamery was pretty intimidating to me anyway.
One of the last memories I can easily pull up is that when we piled into that station wagon, it also meant that there was going to be food. Lots and lots of food. Probably the best food on the planet. And I love food! I can still taste my Grandma's potato salad. Isn't that funny? Something as simple as potato salad? I probably don't make it any different than she did but hers was much much better.
Aunt Grace shared a story with me and it comes to mind every single time I go to the town of O. I drive by that house that we had so many good times in
and realize that no matter what............that house.............that property.......will never be the same.
The Missing Ingredient
My recipe box isn't just a box of recipes. It's a magical box, filled to overflowing with wonderful sweet memories of a past long gone, but forever remembered and cherished.
One recipe in the box, however, always seemed to have something missing. The finished product didn't taste just right. One of my favorites, Grandma's spice cake, never quite passed the taste test when I baked it. As I pulled the card from the box and scrutinized that recipe, I wondered what had been left out as I copied it from my Mother's recipe book. There weren't any dried apples called for in the recipe, yet I remembered the delight in biting into a piece of one. My mother, when asked, said, "Oh, Mama just liked to add a few dried apples once in a while for a change, when she happened to have some."
Well, this time, I just happened to have dried apples myself, thanks to a bountiful harvest in my Dad's orchard the year before. After making pies for the freezer, canning applesauce and enough jelly to last for years, I decided to try my luck with dried apples. Maybe, just maybe, this would be the missing ingredient I'd tried to find for so many years.
As the raisins were put to boil, I thought about the many times in adolescence that we children (pick a number up to twelve) would spill out of the old Model T into Grandpa's or Grandma's waiting arms then scatter like a bunch of chicks turned loose on a warm spring morning, going in search of nature's treasures.
The spice, leavening and salt were sifted into the flour as I remembered the run through the yard, kicking up our heels, swinging our arms, and shouting joyously until we came to the barnyard gate. We had to pause there a while in anticipation of the wonderful, magical moments that we knew lay ahead of us.
As the sugar was whipped with the shortening and the eggs broken and added, I continued slowly crossing the barnyard toward the dusty interior of the barn,where we explored the mysteries of the hidden hen nests, baby pigeons cooing on the roof rafters, and sometimes a baby calf in a holding pen. I always had to stop and admire the horse harness hanging on the wall in the back of the stalls. Of course, my older brothers never understood that I could find them fascinating in any way, and I couldn't understand why they thought the sight of them said, "work."
While I was strolling joyously down memory lane, the cake, somehow, found it's way into the oven. However, my journey never stopped, nor even slowed down. As we left the barn, we came to the big watering tank that was always so tempting, but forbidden, so we settled for leaning on the edge of the tank and watching reflections of clouds as they floated gracefully across the water.
Then, as if on a given signal, we left through the big gate, and out of the barnyard, through the cowslips into the timber pasture. What joy! I loved to see the cowslips in bloom, though they didn't smell very pretty. As we reached the edge of the woods, we began to slow more and more. Here was a dry creek bed. There were children scattered over the creek, the banks and nearby woods. We never were far apart, as there were always little ones to watch and protect.
Just as diligently as we cared for them, we tried not to miss any opportunity to show them something new and wonderful. We all had great curiosity and were forever looking for new wild flowers among the familiar, a new species of bug or butterfly; yet we never really stopped until we turned the bend in the creek that revealed "the old keel mine." I never did know if there was ever a mine there. I only know there was a large portion of the creek that held layers of keel, and the fascination of it never dimmed. This was home base for a while. We roamed the woods, dug in the dirt, admired the rocks in the creek bed, watched the birds, the squirrels or insects, gathered nuts or flowers, explored the many colored pieces of keel, or found a piece to write or draw with on a hard rock; each of us busy with whatever particular joy that suited our fancy.
Cutting into my thoughts, the timer was telling me to remove the cake from the oven, and in recollection, I heard the dinner bell that was mounted on a pole in the backyard. We were called to Grandma's table by the tolling of that bell on many occasions. It seemed the ten minute cooling time for the cake would never end, but I finally sat down with a glass of cold milk and a large square of unfrosted cake, with a piece of dried apple peeking at me from here and there. Once again, I was sitting in a warm friendly kitchen with my legs under a large table that was covered with a fresh white cloth and surrounded by highbacked wooden runged chairs that seemed to be forever beckoning. Before me was a dazzling display of cut glass jelly dishes - they were round, square, oval, single, divided, flat or stemmed, and each was holding a different kind of jelly, jam or preserves.
I bit into my dried apple spice cake and knew with the first bite that the missing ingredient was not the apples. The missing ingredient was GRANDMA.
I remember when we were growing up, we would all climb into the family station wagon and head to the town of O. I always looked forward to it because it meant that I was going to get to play with those cousins that I only got to see and play with during the family reunion.
It meant that I was going to get to see all my aunts and uncles that I didn't get to see very often. Although I didn't always appreciate the hugs and kisses that I was showered with, I took 'em like a soldier. Because that's what you did. It was called respect for your elders. Sadly, this is something that has gotten lost with time.
When I think of my Bedelia family, I think of my Grandma and Grandpa Bedelia's home. It was so big to me back then. It seemed like there were a million and one places to hide as well as a million and one places that we weren't even supposed to be in! Remember the beauty shop on the front porch? I could have spent every day of my summer in that room!
And the day I learned that the little kitchen table went up into the wall, I was pretty sure they had found a secret that nobody else in the world had found. I had never seen anything like that before and thought that might have been the smartest invention ever. I loved that the bathroom had two doors in it. Until people started walking in on me when I was trying to use the toilet!
There were two places that I wasn't allowed to play in at Grandma and Grandpa's house. The basement and the creamery building. The only time I could go down in the basement was when I was needed to help carry jars of food up or empty ones down. And the only time I was allowed in the creamery was if Grandpa was with me. He was sure I would get hurt in there.
Apparently Grandpa had me mixed up with some of the other ornery grandkids because I was the angel. The shy and quiet one. I'm sure it was hard for him to keep everybody straight though. They had like six hundred grandkids. It's okay though. The creamery was pretty intimidating to me anyway.
One of the last memories I can easily pull up is that when we piled into that station wagon, it also meant that there was going to be food. Lots and lots of food. Probably the best food on the planet. And I love food! I can still taste my Grandma's potato salad. Isn't that funny? Something as simple as potato salad? I probably don't make it any different than she did but hers was much much better.
Aunt Grace shared a story with me and it comes to mind every single time I go to the town of O. I drive by that house that we had so many good times in
and realize that no matter what............that house.............that property.......will never be the same.
The Missing Ingredient
My recipe box isn't just a box of recipes. It's a magical box, filled to overflowing with wonderful sweet memories of a past long gone, but forever remembered and cherished.
One recipe in the box, however, always seemed to have something missing. The finished product didn't taste just right. One of my favorites, Grandma's spice cake, never quite passed the taste test when I baked it. As I pulled the card from the box and scrutinized that recipe, I wondered what had been left out as I copied it from my Mother's recipe book. There weren't any dried apples called for in the recipe, yet I remembered the delight in biting into a piece of one. My mother, when asked, said, "Oh, Mama just liked to add a few dried apples once in a while for a change, when she happened to have some."
Well, this time, I just happened to have dried apples myself, thanks to a bountiful harvest in my Dad's orchard the year before. After making pies for the freezer, canning applesauce and enough jelly to last for years, I decided to try my luck with dried apples. Maybe, just maybe, this would be the missing ingredient I'd tried to find for so many years.
As the raisins were put to boil, I thought about the many times in adolescence that we children (pick a number up to twelve) would spill out of the old Model T into Grandpa's or Grandma's waiting arms then scatter like a bunch of chicks turned loose on a warm spring morning, going in search of nature's treasures.
The spice, leavening and salt were sifted into the flour as I remembered the run through the yard, kicking up our heels, swinging our arms, and shouting joyously until we came to the barnyard gate. We had to pause there a while in anticipation of the wonderful, magical moments that we knew lay ahead of us.
As the sugar was whipped with the shortening and the eggs broken and added, I continued slowly crossing the barnyard toward the dusty interior of the barn,where we explored the mysteries of the hidden hen nests, baby pigeons cooing on the roof rafters, and sometimes a baby calf in a holding pen. I always had to stop and admire the horse harness hanging on the wall in the back of the stalls. Of course, my older brothers never understood that I could find them fascinating in any way, and I couldn't understand why they thought the sight of them said, "work."
While I was strolling joyously down memory lane, the cake, somehow, found it's way into the oven. However, my journey never stopped, nor even slowed down. As we left the barn, we came to the big watering tank that was always so tempting, but forbidden, so we settled for leaning on the edge of the tank and watching reflections of clouds as they floated gracefully across the water.
Then, as if on a given signal, we left through the big gate, and out of the barnyard, through the cowslips into the timber pasture. What joy! I loved to see the cowslips in bloom, though they didn't smell very pretty. As we reached the edge of the woods, we began to slow more and more. Here was a dry creek bed. There were children scattered over the creek, the banks and nearby woods. We never were far apart, as there were always little ones to watch and protect.
Just as diligently as we cared for them, we tried not to miss any opportunity to show them something new and wonderful. We all had great curiosity and were forever looking for new wild flowers among the familiar, a new species of bug or butterfly; yet we never really stopped until we turned the bend in the creek that revealed "the old keel mine." I never did know if there was ever a mine there. I only know there was a large portion of the creek that held layers of keel, and the fascination of it never dimmed. This was home base for a while. We roamed the woods, dug in the dirt, admired the rocks in the creek bed, watched the birds, the squirrels or insects, gathered nuts or flowers, explored the many colored pieces of keel, or found a piece to write or draw with on a hard rock; each of us busy with whatever particular joy that suited our fancy.
Cutting into my thoughts, the timer was telling me to remove the cake from the oven, and in recollection, I heard the dinner bell that was mounted on a pole in the backyard. We were called to Grandma's table by the tolling of that bell on many occasions. It seemed the ten minute cooling time for the cake would never end, but I finally sat down with a glass of cold milk and a large square of unfrosted cake, with a piece of dried apple peeking at me from here and there. Once again, I was sitting in a warm friendly kitchen with my legs under a large table that was covered with a fresh white cloth and surrounded by highbacked wooden runged chairs that seemed to be forever beckoning. Before me was a dazzling display of cut glass jelly dishes - they were round, square, oval, single, divided, flat or stemmed, and each was holding a different kind of jelly, jam or preserves.
I bit into my dried apple spice cake and knew with the first bite that the missing ingredient was not the apples. The missing ingredient was GRANDMA.
Respectfully written by Evelyn Weed Teague. Rest in peace my dear aunt.
As for me.....I think Grandma and Grandpa will always be my missing ingredient in life. And as each generation leaves us, I realize more and more how much I still have to learn about my family; how important this family is to me; and how much I love them. I hope someday that I will be that same "important missing ingredient" in someone's life that my Bedelia family has been to me; I believe the missing ingredient is what makes us strong; it helps give us character; and it shows us how to love...unconditionally, passionately and ultimately.
Please bow your head as I say a prayer.
Dear Lord,
Please bless this family as we gather to remember, reminisce and rejoice in the blessings that have been bestowed upon us. Please let those who have passed before us know, that we love them with all our hearts but that we also know they are in a better place, with You. Guide us Lord, throughout this day and every day to follow. Bless this meal that we are about to share and bless the hearts of this big wonderful family.
Amen
Dear Lord,
Please bless this family as we gather to remember, reminisce and rejoice in the blessings that have been bestowed upon us. Please let those who have passed before us know, that we love them with all our hearts but that we also know they are in a better place, with You. Guide us Lord, throughout this day and every day to follow. Bless this meal that we are about to share and bless the hearts of this big wonderful family.
Amen
This was also my first ever prayer written by myself. Although you may not think it's much or "big deal," it's a pretty big deal to me. I have my own way I talk to God from me to him and it's not like this so knowing that I had to "talk to God" in front of a hundred others, it seemed like I was climbing a mountain. Again...I survived. I made it through and will go on to make another memory.
2012/07/16
Just give me the car FACTS
Well before I start this blog, I have a really disturbing story to tell you! In preparation of sitting down and pounding this thing out, I decided to go pee, take the contacts out of my eyes and be comfortable so as to get it over quickly and without injury. Apparently someone else had other ideas. Bertha, this one is for you!
Into the bathroom I go. Pull up the nightgown and get ready to sit down and....WHAT THE HELL IS THAT???.......as I stare in the toilet. Drop the nightgown back down. "Gee, did you shit and not flush?" The more I look at this thing, the more I am convinced there are eyes on that little......rather big, bastard! And it's looking right at me! Sitting in position like it just crawled up from the sewer and is ready to pounce at me any minute. I back away from the toilet a half step. "I don't think so.....I mean I THINK I flushed!"
He thinks he flushed. How the hell does he not know if he flushed the fucking toilet or not?? I know when I flush and I don't have to see if there's POOP in there to know it!! I think a mouse fell in our toilet. And at this point I am telling myself that if that was the case, he has drowned and I should just pee on him and get my business done. Because if I don't make a decision soon, I will just be peeing down my leg and onto the bathroom floor; which means another shower today and delaying this blog and..........ugh!!! MEN!!
I don't want to flush this thing. What if it pounces OUT of the water and attaches onto my face??? I don't want shit/piss water on my face!! You know he came from the sewer and he brought someone else's nasty shit up with him. Oh my goodness, what the hell do I do at this point? A million thoughts are going through my mind. I could go out back and squat. I could go to the neighbors and tell them our toilet is broken.
Grrrrr...........that means I would have to put my bra on. And my underwear. Nope, it's not happening. I close my eyes and flush. And open them back up really quick as I step back another half step. It's gone. It went down. I think it was a turd. I can't be sure though. The little guy on my left shoulder was telling me that the little bastard is waiting in the pipe...for me to sit down...so he can bite my ass cheek...or worse....he could bite me THERE!
The little guy on my right shoulder...well he's just sitting there laughing his little ass off at me. The more I hear him laugh, the more I have to pee. His laughter is almost like running water. I slapped my left hand down on my right shoulder, sat down and peed as fast as I could...with my eyes closed...because...well I don't know WHY...I just did!!
And then I got the hell off of there. Yes, I wiped. And yes, I washed my hands. You will not be getting any kind of pink eye or purple nose or red ear or anything like that from me. No way, no how!
Soooo...........when I was with Matilda last weekend, I saw a car that was for sale and I fell in love with it. I really really really really wanted it. It was a 2000 Volkswagen Beetle. Mint green. I could see me driving that little shit around. Got the number and first thing Monday morning, Gee called the bank that was selling it. They were asking under KBB for it so we called our bank and they said "We have just been sitting here waiting for you to call and ask us for money. Come get an app and let's get this car!" Yes, they were that excited for me! To make this long story not so long, it took from Monday morning until Wednesday afternoon to get the paperwork done, copies into the bank that they needed, blah blah blah.
The bank that we were buying the car from, knew that on Wednesday I would be bringing the money down and picking up this car. I had worked the late night shift so I slept during the day. In the afternoon, I called the banker to see if he wanted a cashiers check, cash or if a check was okay and what do you think he said to me? "I just sold it."
"You what?" I literally shook my head because I thought a cobweb had gotten in the way. "Someone just came and test drove it and well.....I know their banker (I bet you do!) and I know that they have the money." What the fuck did he think we had been working toward for the past two and a half days??? "I see. I will be sure to tell everyone I know how you sold that out from under me." And I hung up. I was so heartbroken.
Gee comes home from work and he's pissed. "I am going to find you the car you want if it kills me." So he jumps on the internet and goes to work. Then I jump on the internet and I go to work. We find two very very good candidates. One black beetle and one electric blue beetle. Both of them in the city so I knew the next day I could go right up and check them out. Gee starts calling around and tells the first guy that we are going to come up the next day and check this car out but asks if he can go down on price a little bit.
Of course he says no and he's probably right. I think it was a steal at the price it was at but I just didn't HAVE that much to give him. I still loved it. Gee calls another guy and asks about a yellow one that I liked in an ad and of course, it had sold but they didn't bother taking it off of their internet ad. Bastards.
Calling the other place and inquires about the electric blue one. It was there and they said we could come up and see it but that they go fast so we would want to get up there early. That was the plan. Guess what. The next morning, they claimed that the electric blue one was sold. Are you freaking kidding me?? Maybe they DO go fast??
Then we found a charcoal colored one in Omaha. Lexus of Omaha to be exact. Gee calls them and yep, they have it. We are ready to leave the house to head that way when the guy calls back and says "How set is your wife's heart on a Beetle?" And that was within MINUTES!! What the hell?!? This is ridiculous!!
I guess I wasn't meant to have a Beetle. We headed out to Lexus of Omaha anyway...just to see what they had. Because they "said" they had some good pre-owned cars that they thought we would be interested in. Uh huh. They brought out ...................
My MP3 player just got in the way, sorry. I lost my total train of thought. It's those stripper visions that I have. You'll have to excuse me. I love that song that says I look so much cuter with something in my mouth!! Probably why I always try to shove food in there. Sexy huh!!
Okay okay, back to business!! Let me re-read something here and get back on track. I have too many good songs on this thing.
Oh yes! I remember now. I specifically told them that I did NOT want a Dodge and I did NOT want a Mercury. No dice. Don't go there. So this d-bag Derick says he is going to bring a Saturn around to show us. He leaves and I get a bad feeling. He pulls up and we go out...only to find that he has brought us a Dodge Stratus. SERIOUSLY DUDE???!!!???
He told me to just look at it and maybe take it for a drive just to see what I thought. This is what I told him. "I don't like Dodge. I mentioned that. This car is dirty. Like someone dumped a bucket of dirt in it. The steering wheel is peeling. OH! And that place on the passenger door..........where it was SIDE SWIPED.........THAT won't do!! NO, we won't be looking at this car!
Here comes the manager around the corner. No, I wasn't loud and I wasn't rude. I was hot and I was honest. This manager was pretty sure he could get me into a Lexus. I tell you what, I laughed....loudly....in their faces. They didn't even know how to react. The two salesmen just looked at each other. I said "Yeah so I can sell my house to live in my Lexus!" He was convinced that I was going to love this car. Off he goes.
"Gee, if he brings a gold car up here, I will run him over, I swear it." He heads right for a gold car. My heart just about jumped out of my chest. (For those that don't know, I can't STAND the color gold.....this is why I'm poor. Gold is gold!!) He takes a sharp right and gets in a different car. Looks almost silver at first. Here he comes. A Lexus. It wasn't an ugly car. But it was an EXACT replica of my county magistrate's car (except for the color...it was called "oyster" but it was close to gold). "This isn't happening, sorry." I was tired of wasting my time and his time. I was ready to go. Stick a fork in me, I'm done.
D-bag Derick says "It has a 6 CD changer in the glove compartment." Was that really his save for this sale? Wow. We're out. See ya on the flip side. We'll call you. I lied. We won't.
Back to the great state of Iowa where I not only found a car that I absolutely L-O-V-E, but we had options of MANY cars that we could have purchased! Thank you Rhoden Auto! You haven't let me down once in twenty plus years.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it!
Into the bathroom I go. Pull up the nightgown and get ready to sit down and....WHAT THE HELL IS THAT???.......as I stare in the toilet. Drop the nightgown back down. "Gee, did you shit and not flush?" The more I look at this thing, the more I am convinced there are eyes on that little......rather big, bastard! And it's looking right at me! Sitting in position like it just crawled up from the sewer and is ready to pounce at me any minute. I back away from the toilet a half step. "I don't think so.....I mean I THINK I flushed!"
He thinks he flushed. How the hell does he not know if he flushed the fucking toilet or not?? I know when I flush and I don't have to see if there's POOP in there to know it!! I think a mouse fell in our toilet. And at this point I am telling myself that if that was the case, he has drowned and I should just pee on him and get my business done. Because if I don't make a decision soon, I will just be peeing down my leg and onto the bathroom floor; which means another shower today and delaying this blog and..........ugh!!! MEN!!
I don't want to flush this thing. What if it pounces OUT of the water and attaches onto my face??? I don't want shit/piss water on my face!! You know he came from the sewer and he brought someone else's nasty shit up with him. Oh my goodness, what the hell do I do at this point? A million thoughts are going through my mind. I could go out back and squat. I could go to the neighbors and tell them our toilet is broken.
Grrrrr...........that means I would have to put my bra on. And my underwear. Nope, it's not happening. I close my eyes and flush. And open them back up really quick as I step back another half step. It's gone. It went down. I think it was a turd. I can't be sure though. The little guy on my left shoulder was telling me that the little bastard is waiting in the pipe...for me to sit down...so he can bite my ass cheek...or worse....he could bite me THERE!
The little guy on my right shoulder...well he's just sitting there laughing his little ass off at me. The more I hear him laugh, the more I have to pee. His laughter is almost like running water. I slapped my left hand down on my right shoulder, sat down and peed as fast as I could...with my eyes closed...because...well I don't know WHY...I just did!!
And then I got the hell off of there. Yes, I wiped. And yes, I washed my hands. You will not be getting any kind of pink eye or purple nose or red ear or anything like that from me. No way, no how!
Soooo...........when I was with Matilda last weekend, I saw a car that was for sale and I fell in love with it. I really really really really wanted it. It was a 2000 Volkswagen Beetle. Mint green. I could see me driving that little shit around. Got the number and first thing Monday morning, Gee called the bank that was selling it. They were asking under KBB for it so we called our bank and they said "We have just been sitting here waiting for you to call and ask us for money. Come get an app and let's get this car!" Yes, they were that excited for me! To make this long story not so long, it took from Monday morning until Wednesday afternoon to get the paperwork done, copies into the bank that they needed, blah blah blah.
The bank that we were buying the car from, knew that on Wednesday I would be bringing the money down and picking up this car. I had worked the late night shift so I slept during the day. In the afternoon, I called the banker to see if he wanted a cashiers check, cash or if a check was okay and what do you think he said to me? "I just sold it."
"You what?" I literally shook my head because I thought a cobweb had gotten in the way. "Someone just came and test drove it and well.....I know their banker (I bet you do!) and I know that they have the money." What the fuck did he think we had been working toward for the past two and a half days??? "I see. I will be sure to tell everyone I know how you sold that out from under me." And I hung up. I was so heartbroken.
Gee comes home from work and he's pissed. "I am going to find you the car you want if it kills me." So he jumps on the internet and goes to work. Then I jump on the internet and I go to work. We find two very very good candidates. One black beetle and one electric blue beetle. Both of them in the city so I knew the next day I could go right up and check them out. Gee starts calling around and tells the first guy that we are going to come up the next day and check this car out but asks if he can go down on price a little bit.
Of course he says no and he's probably right. I think it was a steal at the price it was at but I just didn't HAVE that much to give him. I still loved it. Gee calls another guy and asks about a yellow one that I liked in an ad and of course, it had sold but they didn't bother taking it off of their internet ad. Bastards.
Calling the other place and inquires about the electric blue one. It was there and they said we could come up and see it but that they go fast so we would want to get up there early. That was the plan. Guess what. The next morning, they claimed that the electric blue one was sold. Are you freaking kidding me?? Maybe they DO go fast??
Then we found a charcoal colored one in Omaha. Lexus of Omaha to be exact. Gee calls them and yep, they have it. We are ready to leave the house to head that way when the guy calls back and says "How set is your wife's heart on a Beetle?" And that was within MINUTES!! What the hell?!? This is ridiculous!!
I guess I wasn't meant to have a Beetle. We headed out to Lexus of Omaha anyway...just to see what they had. Because they "said" they had some good pre-owned cars that they thought we would be interested in. Uh huh. They brought out ...................
My MP3 player just got in the way, sorry. I lost my total train of thought. It's those stripper visions that I have. You'll have to excuse me. I love that song that says I look so much cuter with something in my mouth!! Probably why I always try to shove food in there. Sexy huh!!
Okay okay, back to business!! Let me re-read something here and get back on track. I have too many good songs on this thing.
Oh yes! I remember now. I specifically told them that I did NOT want a Dodge and I did NOT want a Mercury. No dice. Don't go there. So this d-bag Derick says he is going to bring a Saturn around to show us. He leaves and I get a bad feeling. He pulls up and we go out...only to find that he has brought us a Dodge Stratus. SERIOUSLY DUDE???!!!???
He told me to just look at it and maybe take it for a drive just to see what I thought. This is what I told him. "I don't like Dodge. I mentioned that. This car is dirty. Like someone dumped a bucket of dirt in it. The steering wheel is peeling. OH! And that place on the passenger door..........where it was SIDE SWIPED.........THAT won't do!! NO, we won't be looking at this car!
Here comes the manager around the corner. No, I wasn't loud and I wasn't rude. I was hot and I was honest. This manager was pretty sure he could get me into a Lexus. I tell you what, I laughed....loudly....in their faces. They didn't even know how to react. The two salesmen just looked at each other. I said "Yeah so I can sell my house to live in my Lexus!" He was convinced that I was going to love this car. Off he goes.
"Gee, if he brings a gold car up here, I will run him over, I swear it." He heads right for a gold car. My heart just about jumped out of my chest. (For those that don't know, I can't STAND the color gold.....this is why I'm poor. Gold is gold!!) He takes a sharp right and gets in a different car. Looks almost silver at first. Here he comes. A Lexus. It wasn't an ugly car. But it was an EXACT replica of my county magistrate's car (except for the color...it was called "oyster" but it was close to gold). "This isn't happening, sorry." I was tired of wasting my time and his time. I was ready to go. Stick a fork in me, I'm done.
D-bag Derick says "It has a 6 CD changer in the glove compartment." Was that really his save for this sale? Wow. We're out. See ya on the flip side. We'll call you. I lied. We won't.
Back to the great state of Iowa where I not only found a car that I absolutely L-O-V-E, but we had options of MANY cars that we could have purchased! Thank you Rhoden Auto! You haven't let me down once in twenty plus years.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it!
Dom da-dom dom
Hey hey! Welcome back! I had begun to think you had gotten lost and couldn't find me. I have been sitting here just WAITING for you to get here so I would have someone to talk to. So what's new with you? Is it hot there? Cuz it's going to get hot here today. I'm over that. Bring me some nice breezes and temps of 75 and I'm a happy gal.
I went down to clean for my friend DOM the other day. I've noticed that since I have started to really get in there and clean, he leaves earlier and earlier each time. I really like that. Gives me a chance to move the furniture and do the things that really need done.
I took my carpet shampooer down with me this last time and got all his poopy stains out of his carpet. Lucky for me, there were only two spots to work out and it only took about forty five minutes to thoroughly clean all the areas that could use some attention.
While organizing and re-arranging, I completely cleaned out his refrigerator. You know those crisper drawers?? Well I will be damned if they weren't just stocked FULL of candy. Mini Snickers, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, Reese's Mini's, Hershey's candy and I can 't even remember what else.
As I started looking at all this candy he had, I realized that half of the bags were wrappers. Only wrappers. So I dug ALL the empty wrappers out of the bags and put them in the trash where they belong. When I got all of those out of there, there really wasn't all that much candy. Okay, well there WAS..........but not near as much as I thought he had to begin with. So I took them all and condensed them into Ziploc baggies.
So when I was done, the refrigerator looked FAN-freaking-TASTIC!! Don't worry.....I left a note "suggesting" that maybe he was purchasing too much candy and needed to think about snacks that were just a little bit more healthy. Just a bit. I'm sure that note went into the trash can immediately.
On another note, I found a whole new black trash bag just FULL of movies. Yes.....those movies! And how lucky was it that he just happened to have a whole bottom shelf in the bathroom EMPTY??? With a door on it??? Oh yes, they ALL went in there! The funny thing I have noticed when finding spots for his movies is that none of them have been opened. Okay well maybe not NONE of them but clearly ninety nine percent of them.
So I truly believe he gets these movies because he wants to spend his money. Not because he wants to watch porn. And like I have mentioned before.....those bastards at the porn shop........I mean pawn shop, need to be whipped. With spiked strips of leather. Sharp spikes. I hate it that they will take advantage of someone that is so clearly not able to make the right decisions. *sigh*
So while putting these movies away, I saw just how clever these titles can be.
Teasers - I always thought those were books. Guess I was wrong.
China Doll, featuring cocksuckers - Need I say more?
Pussy Cream - Gross. And what they don't know is that it's really called penicillin, not cream.
Fucking the Fat Man - Everybody needs love people. It's just that not everybody needs to videotape it.
Ghetto Fuckfest - Yes, it's just what you thought it was.
Meat - No, it's NOT a cookbook.
Pretty as they Cum - I'm sorry but skanky garter belts, high heels, stockings and masks just don't seem "pretty" to me.
Pitcher's Mound - It didn't LOOK like a baseball movie!!
Up and Cumming - Gross. That means teenagers. Or at least that's what they want you to think. Gross.
No cocks allowed - What?? Why?? And are they just anti-chicken or anti-all-meat???
The best of MILF's, featuring sticky girls - Ewww. I have a mom. I think this is gross. I don't care how "hot" they are. They are moms. Stop!
Sweet & Sour Snatch - This one speaks for itself. Volumes! I think I will pass on chinese food for a while.
Slutty sistas - I love my sisters but............no. HELL NO!
My First Ass Reaming - Does this mean she gets yelled at? Isn't that what ass reaming means??
So anyway, that was my entertainment while cleaning this time. When I was done, I was looking around and I have decided that INSTEAD of having all his movies (that he doesn't even watch) strung around the place, hiding in all corners, that I am going to find either one large or two small bookshelves to put in his big closet and put them all on there. I am also going to try to find a small used dresser to put his extra sheets and blankets in so they aren't just cluttering up his closet. And that is going to be his Christmas present.
What do you think of that? Any suggestions on where I am going to find this stuff? I will see if any of the surrounding "neighborhood centers" have any of this stuff and I guess I will see if I can get my happy ass up in the mornings on weekends that I don't have to work early and check out some garage sales.
I got a lot to do. And although I'm not done talking, I am done talking about this subject. Any and all suggestions on how I can add to this Christmas present for my special friend Dom would be appreciated. Be watching for another blog. I have it started in my mind. How scary is that???
I went down to clean for my friend DOM the other day. I've noticed that since I have started to really get in there and clean, he leaves earlier and earlier each time. I really like that. Gives me a chance to move the furniture and do the things that really need done.
I took my carpet shampooer down with me this last time and got all his poopy stains out of his carpet. Lucky for me, there were only two spots to work out and it only took about forty five minutes to thoroughly clean all the areas that could use some attention.
While organizing and re-arranging, I completely cleaned out his refrigerator. You know those crisper drawers?? Well I will be damned if they weren't just stocked FULL of candy. Mini Snickers, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, Reese's Mini's, Hershey's candy and I can 't even remember what else.
As I started looking at all this candy he had, I realized that half of the bags were wrappers. Only wrappers. So I dug ALL the empty wrappers out of the bags and put them in the trash where they belong. When I got all of those out of there, there really wasn't all that much candy. Okay, well there WAS..........but not near as much as I thought he had to begin with. So I took them all and condensed them into Ziploc baggies.
So when I was done, the refrigerator looked FAN-freaking-TASTIC!! Don't worry.....I left a note "suggesting" that maybe he was purchasing too much candy and needed to think about snacks that were just a little bit more healthy. Just a bit. I'm sure that note went into the trash can immediately.
On another note, I found a whole new black trash bag just FULL of movies. Yes.....those movies! And how lucky was it that he just happened to have a whole bottom shelf in the bathroom EMPTY??? With a door on it??? Oh yes, they ALL went in there! The funny thing I have noticed when finding spots for his movies is that none of them have been opened. Okay well maybe not NONE of them but clearly ninety nine percent of them.
So I truly believe he gets these movies because he wants to spend his money. Not because he wants to watch porn. And like I have mentioned before.....those bastards at the porn shop........I mean pawn shop, need to be whipped. With spiked strips of leather. Sharp spikes. I hate it that they will take advantage of someone that is so clearly not able to make the right decisions. *sigh*
So while putting these movies away, I saw just how clever these titles can be.
Teasers - I always thought those were books. Guess I was wrong.
China Doll, featuring cocksuckers - Need I say more?
Pussy Cream - Gross. And what they don't know is that it's really called penicillin, not cream.
Fucking the Fat Man - Everybody needs love people. It's just that not everybody needs to videotape it.
Ghetto Fuckfest - Yes, it's just what you thought it was.
Meat - No, it's NOT a cookbook.
Pretty as they Cum - I'm sorry but skanky garter belts, high heels, stockings and masks just don't seem "pretty" to me.
Pitcher's Mound - It didn't LOOK like a baseball movie!!
Up and Cumming - Gross. That means teenagers. Or at least that's what they want you to think. Gross.
No cocks allowed - What?? Why?? And are they just anti-chicken or anti-all-meat???
The best of MILF's, featuring sticky girls - Ewww. I have a mom. I think this is gross. I don't care how "hot" they are. They are moms. Stop!
Sweet & Sour Snatch - This one speaks for itself. Volumes! I think I will pass on chinese food for a while.
Slutty sistas - I love my sisters but............no. HELL NO!
My First Ass Reaming - Does this mean she gets yelled at? Isn't that what ass reaming means??
So anyway, that was my entertainment while cleaning this time. When I was done, I was looking around and I have decided that INSTEAD of having all his movies (that he doesn't even watch) strung around the place, hiding in all corners, that I am going to find either one large or two small bookshelves to put in his big closet and put them all on there. I am also going to try to find a small used dresser to put his extra sheets and blankets in so they aren't just cluttering up his closet. And that is going to be his Christmas present.
What do you think of that? Any suggestions on where I am going to find this stuff? I will see if any of the surrounding "neighborhood centers" have any of this stuff and I guess I will see if I can get my happy ass up in the mornings on weekends that I don't have to work early and check out some garage sales.
I got a lot to do. And although I'm not done talking, I am done talking about this subject. Any and all suggestions on how I can add to this Christmas present for my special friend Dom would be appreciated. Be watching for another blog. I have it started in my mind. How scary is that???
2012/07/11
Me VS TomKat
If you haven't read it yet, go to massagemick's musings on blogspot and read his posts. The last one cracks me up to no end. I guess he's wondering if I ever got my contacts. Well I'm not telling him now. HA!
The big news on television these days is the TomKat divorce. Why are we supposed to care about this? I mean, I have went through two divorces...count them, TWO DIVORCES...and it's never once been in the news. Not even the local news.
A few difference between Tom Cruise, Katy Holmes and myself are these:
They are actors.....very good actors. I do not act. Well not on television or in the movies. I act like a good person. I act like I know the right answers. I act like I know what I'm doing even if I don't. Sometimes.
They live in Hollywood.....or someplace big and expensive like it. And their mortgage is probably a scary five digits...at least. No, I did not add any cents on to that. I do not live in Hollywood.....or anyplace big and expensive like it. I live in a little podunk town with little podunk neighbors and we all know and like each other. To an extent. We don't have to compete for yard ornaments, cars, properties or even trophy spouses. My mortgage is safely five digits. Including cents. Safely.
They believe in Scientology. "Developed by L. Ron Hubbard, Scientology is a religion that offers a precise path leading to a complete and certain understanding of one's true spiritual nature and one's relationship to self, family, groups, Mankind, all life forms, the material universe, the spirtual universe and the Supreme Being." They believe that "Man is far more than a product of his environment, or his genes." Scientologists believe that man is an immortal spiritual being, his experiences reach far beyond a single lifetime, and that his capabilities are unlimited. That's what I read anyway, when I look it up at scientology.org. I am not a scientologist. I could never be a scientologist because I have faith. You see they are not allowed to have faith. They have to have PROOF of every single thing that they want to believe. I DO have proof of every single thing I want to believe. I see trees. I see people. I see animals. I see happiness. I see sadness. I see hatred. I see regret. Each and every day, I see these things. Because I have FAITH in God. Faith.
Tom and Katy shook the nation when they got together. She was much younger than him and they were "so cute together." And then there's the time he went on the Oprah show and made a stoopid fool of himself because someone finally returned his feelings. I tell you what, Nicole Kidman dodged a bullet there. I have yet to shake the nation. I can though, shake the hell out of those pancake mixes that you "just add water to." Yes I can. And Oprah's show got cancelled before I could get on it. I'm pretty confident that if she ever read my blogs, she'd want me on her show. Doesn't matter. I don't care for her either.
Tom Cruise made the news several years ago when he admitted that he was going to eat Katy Holmes' placenta after giving birth to their first child. For Christ's sake, that is just wrong. I don't care the reason. I don't care the religion. I don't even care if he's anemic. Wrong is just wrong. And that my friends, is fricken wrong. On so many levels that it makes ME sick! Not an easy feat. And so there you have it. Yet another difference. I do not eat placenta.
So why is this such big news, this divorce? Why do people really give a rat's ass about why they are divorcing; what kind of alimony she will receive; how the kids' visits will be set up? WHY DOES THIS MATTER to anyone except for Tom Cruise and Katy Holmes????? Since when did the public get SO high and mighty that they DESERVE to know what goes on behind closed doors of anyone other than themselves? I wonder if there are any people out there that think they know my business? Not that I care because if someone wants to know this stuff, they can ask me and I will tell them what they NEED to know.
I'm sure Tom and Katy don't want their private life divulged any more than it already is. Maybe these people.......the ones that think they need to know each and every detail.......need to take a step back and spend a little more time in their own world. Fixing their own problems. Making their own solutions.
I myself, could care less if Tom and Katy divorce; jump off the Brooklyn bridge; move their citizenship to Cambodia; or even win the Powerball. Geezus people, stop being so damned nosey!!
I only looked at one article on the Yahoo! news tonight. Can you tell which one it was? We can all thank our lucky stars that I am not going to read anymore of that crap tonight. Have a great night. I hope your secrets stay with you.
The big news on television these days is the TomKat divorce. Why are we supposed to care about this? I mean, I have went through two divorces...count them, TWO DIVORCES...and it's never once been in the news. Not even the local news.
A few difference between Tom Cruise, Katy Holmes and myself are these:
They are actors.....very good actors. I do not act. Well not on television or in the movies. I act like a good person. I act like I know the right answers. I act like I know what I'm doing even if I don't. Sometimes.
They live in Hollywood.....or someplace big and expensive like it. And their mortgage is probably a scary five digits...at least. No, I did not add any cents on to that. I do not live in Hollywood.....or anyplace big and expensive like it. I live in a little podunk town with little podunk neighbors and we all know and like each other. To an extent. We don't have to compete for yard ornaments, cars, properties or even trophy spouses. My mortgage is safely five digits. Including cents. Safely.
They believe in Scientology. "Developed by L. Ron Hubbard, Scientology is a religion that offers a precise path leading to a complete and certain understanding of one's true spiritual nature and one's relationship to self, family, groups, Mankind, all life forms, the material universe, the spirtual universe and the Supreme Being." They believe that "Man is far more than a product of his environment, or his genes." Scientologists believe that man is an immortal spiritual being, his experiences reach far beyond a single lifetime, and that his capabilities are unlimited. That's what I read anyway, when I look it up at scientology.org. I am not a scientologist. I could never be a scientologist because I have faith. You see they are not allowed to have faith. They have to have PROOF of every single thing that they want to believe. I DO have proof of every single thing I want to believe. I see trees. I see people. I see animals. I see happiness. I see sadness. I see hatred. I see regret. Each and every day, I see these things. Because I have FAITH in God. Faith.
Tom and Katy shook the nation when they got together. She was much younger than him and they were "so cute together." And then there's the time he went on the Oprah show and made a stoopid fool of himself because someone finally returned his feelings. I tell you what, Nicole Kidman dodged a bullet there. I have yet to shake the nation. I can though, shake the hell out of those pancake mixes that you "just add water to." Yes I can. And Oprah's show got cancelled before I could get on it. I'm pretty confident that if she ever read my blogs, she'd want me on her show. Doesn't matter. I don't care for her either.
Tom Cruise made the news several years ago when he admitted that he was going to eat Katy Holmes' placenta after giving birth to their first child. For Christ's sake, that is just wrong. I don't care the reason. I don't care the religion. I don't even care if he's anemic. Wrong is just wrong. And that my friends, is fricken wrong. On so many levels that it makes ME sick! Not an easy feat. And so there you have it. Yet another difference. I do not eat placenta.
So why is this such big news, this divorce? Why do people really give a rat's ass about why they are divorcing; what kind of alimony she will receive; how the kids' visits will be set up? WHY DOES THIS MATTER to anyone except for Tom Cruise and Katy Holmes????? Since when did the public get SO high and mighty that they DESERVE to know what goes on behind closed doors of anyone other than themselves? I wonder if there are any people out there that think they know my business? Not that I care because if someone wants to know this stuff, they can ask me and I will tell them what they NEED to know.
I'm sure Tom and Katy don't want their private life divulged any more than it already is. Maybe these people.......the ones that think they need to know each and every detail.......need to take a step back and spend a little more time in their own world. Fixing their own problems. Making their own solutions.
I myself, could care less if Tom and Katy divorce; jump off the Brooklyn bridge; move their citizenship to Cambodia; or even win the Powerball. Geezus people, stop being so damned nosey!!
I only looked at one article on the Yahoo! news tonight. Can you tell which one it was? We can all thank our lucky stars that I am not going to read anymore of that crap tonight. Have a great night. I hope your secrets stay with you.
2012/07/09
The big sleep
Good morning to you all. Pleasant weather this morning. Not too hot out. At least not yet. Not real sure as to what the temps are supposed to climb to today. Don't really mind though either way.
Gee and I have been sleeping in seperate beds. Not beds exactly. I sleep in our "marital" bed and he sleeps on the couch. This is very new for us. And I can't stand it.
It started out that we both moved from our bed upstairs, to the futon mattress/memory foam mattress on the livingroom floor because it was so hot. Of course, when we first started that, we thought our central air didn't work. It didn't take long though, for my body to start complaining about the sleeping arrangements. Multiple days of headaches. "The spot" between my shoulder blades that screamed at me almost every morning when I crawled up from the floor.
I think I'm too old for this shit people! So anyway, now that the central air has proven to work just fine (I did just knock on wood), I eventually needed to be back in my bed. I slept downstairs with my husband......on a couple of mattresses......knowing that my body was miserable......for weeks. Because I wanted to sleep with my husband. I like knowing he is right beside me. I mean, what if someone broke into our house in the middle of the night?? Somebody is going to need to protect him, right???
But my body (and I think my mind) finally won out. I went back to our bed. By myself. And left my husband to sleep on the futon mattress. All by himself.
Apparently my body easily adjusts to the temperatures and his does not. He comes home from work all pukey and sick while I seem to simply adjust to the weather. Now, I'm not saying that if I worked directly in it like he does, I wouldn't be sick. I don't even want to attempt it. There isn't enough money to pay me to work outside in this heat day after day after day. Forget it.
Something that really gets me though is when he comes home from work puking and exhausted, he will lay around until he's feeling cooler and not sick anymore and then he chooses to go fishing or mow the yard or do some stoopid project outside. Hello??? I know I'm not a brain surgeon or anything but I'm pretty sure that if the heat made you sick at work.....it's not going to make you feel any better later in the afternoon! Duh Gee.
So anyway, he has made it a habit to turn the central air to freezing temperatures in our house. Literally, by the time I am ready for bed at night, my feet and legs are frozen solid. I don't dare shower in the evening. I'm pretty sure I would be sick.....and my muscles locked up into the worst cramps I have ever had in my life. Moving on.....
By the time I get upstairs into the "hot box," as he calls it, I am so thankful for the warm air. I have a "hole" in the floor that sits directly over the livingroom and there's a ceiling fan that is on continuously, moving air up to me so it's not as if there's not any air. And I have a box fan. By morning, I am balled up in the fetal position freezing my ass off once again.
And I haven't even opened the window in the bedroom. I guess I should consider myself lucky that I am able to adapt so well but I miss sleeping with my husband. I asked him yesterday if we are ever going to be able to sleep together again and his reply was, "Sure we will. This fall."
Wow. I only have to wait three more months to sleep with my husband again. Isn't that a kick in the pants!?! I asked him if we could meet in the middle and sleep on the stairway but he doesn't think that's a good idea either. At least I'm trying.
As long as I can remember, I have always always always had a fan on me when I sleep. And that's always been sufficient. Maybe that's how it's always going to be in our house. Seperate beds for the summer months. Maybe when it's freezing cold outside, I will sleep downstairs in front of a vent or something.....just to see how he likes it.
Ha! I know better. Once that man is asleep, he doesn't care where I am at! And getting back to the question of somebody breaking into our house in the middle of the night.....I guess he will just have to sleep through it or learn to take care of himself in the middle of the night. As for me.....I will be upstairs with my nine milimeter. Dreaming peacefully until someone is stoopid enough to interefere.
I hope your nights are full of rest and happy dreams. Or dreams of big fish...in clear water. That's a good dream. It means good luck is headed your way in the financial world. At least that's what the Mayans say. Until next time my friends. Keep warm. Keep cool. Keep dry. Keep reading.
Gee and I have been sleeping in seperate beds. Not beds exactly. I sleep in our "marital" bed and he sleeps on the couch. This is very new for us. And I can't stand it.
It started out that we both moved from our bed upstairs, to the futon mattress/memory foam mattress on the livingroom floor because it was so hot. Of course, when we first started that, we thought our central air didn't work. It didn't take long though, for my body to start complaining about the sleeping arrangements. Multiple days of headaches. "The spot" between my shoulder blades that screamed at me almost every morning when I crawled up from the floor.
I think I'm too old for this shit people! So anyway, now that the central air has proven to work just fine (I did just knock on wood), I eventually needed to be back in my bed. I slept downstairs with my husband......on a couple of mattresses......knowing that my body was miserable......for weeks. Because I wanted to sleep with my husband. I like knowing he is right beside me. I mean, what if someone broke into our house in the middle of the night?? Somebody is going to need to protect him, right???
But my body (and I think my mind) finally won out. I went back to our bed. By myself. And left my husband to sleep on the futon mattress. All by himself.
Apparently my body easily adjusts to the temperatures and his does not. He comes home from work all pukey and sick while I seem to simply adjust to the weather. Now, I'm not saying that if I worked directly in it like he does, I wouldn't be sick. I don't even want to attempt it. There isn't enough money to pay me to work outside in this heat day after day after day. Forget it.
Something that really gets me though is when he comes home from work puking and exhausted, he will lay around until he's feeling cooler and not sick anymore and then he chooses to go fishing or mow the yard or do some stoopid project outside. Hello??? I know I'm not a brain surgeon or anything but I'm pretty sure that if the heat made you sick at work.....it's not going to make you feel any better later in the afternoon! Duh Gee.
So anyway, he has made it a habit to turn the central air to freezing temperatures in our house. Literally, by the time I am ready for bed at night, my feet and legs are frozen solid. I don't dare shower in the evening. I'm pretty sure I would be sick.....and my muscles locked up into the worst cramps I have ever had in my life. Moving on.....
By the time I get upstairs into the "hot box," as he calls it, I am so thankful for the warm air. I have a "hole" in the floor that sits directly over the livingroom and there's a ceiling fan that is on continuously, moving air up to me so it's not as if there's not any air. And I have a box fan. By morning, I am balled up in the fetal position freezing my ass off once again.
And I haven't even opened the window in the bedroom. I guess I should consider myself lucky that I am able to adapt so well but I miss sleeping with my husband. I asked him yesterday if we are ever going to be able to sleep together again and his reply was, "Sure we will. This fall."
Wow. I only have to wait three more months to sleep with my husband again. Isn't that a kick in the pants!?! I asked him if we could meet in the middle and sleep on the stairway but he doesn't think that's a good idea either. At least I'm trying.
As long as I can remember, I have always always always had a fan on me when I sleep. And that's always been sufficient. Maybe that's how it's always going to be in our house. Seperate beds for the summer months. Maybe when it's freezing cold outside, I will sleep downstairs in front of a vent or something.....just to see how he likes it.
Ha! I know better. Once that man is asleep, he doesn't care where I am at! And getting back to the question of somebody breaking into our house in the middle of the night.....I guess he will just have to sleep through it or learn to take care of himself in the middle of the night. As for me.....I will be upstairs with my nine milimeter. Dreaming peacefully until someone is stoopid enough to interefere.
I hope your nights are full of rest and happy dreams. Or dreams of big fish...in clear water. That's a good dream. It means good luck is headed your way in the financial world. At least that's what the Mayans say. Until next time my friends. Keep warm. Keep cool. Keep dry. Keep reading.
2012/07/08
Wedding bliss after all
For the past twenty four hours, I have had the song "Don't Know Much," on my mind. You know the one....."I don't know much.....but I know I love you....That may be all I need...to know." Beautiful song. I heard it yesterday at my cousin's wedding. And what a BEAUTIFUL wedding it was! It's been a long time since I've been to a wedding where you can see love in the couple's eyes.
My cousin Thomas and I have a "special" relationship. I really didn't get to know him until we were older. I mean, I have known him my entire life but didn't really KNOW him until later. A few years before he retired, he and I started to become acquainted with each other better and I realized just how awesome this man really is. He has a huge heart.....he just likes to keep it buried so deep, that nobody will ever get to it and find out that he has feelings about a lot of things and truly cares about those around him. Don't you dare tell him I told you this, either!!
After Thomas retired, we met up almost everyday for coffee. Not on purpose really. We just both ended up at the same coffee place. He would give me shit. I would give him shit right back. The perfect family relationship, right? Right!! Thomas named me "The Queen," because............well I don't really know WHY he named me that for sure.............I think it was because he was amazed at how I could be so mean to the "men in my life," but still always have one! -_- I am sure you remember me saying a while back that I am not the easiest person in the world to live with!! I think somewhere in there, is how "The Queen" was born.
Although.........if I were being treated like a Queen, I would still be with my first husband, right? Right?? RIGHT??? I rest my suitcase!! Anyway, no matter where I saw Thomas and no matter what we were doing, I would always say "Hey, there's my favorite cousin.........but don't tell your sister I said that!" And he would say "There's the Queen!" I love that man.
I am not too sure how long ago.....around a year ago though.........Thomas had a stroke. A bad stroke. He was in the hospital for quite some time and has had to undergo a lot of physical therapy. He has had set-backs and steps forward. One thing that is for sure, is the constant love and support he has had from his family. From his wonderful (then) girlfriend Rebecca, to his daughter, mother, son, sister, brother-in-law, grandkids, nephews and many many others. I am not going to try to name everyone because I will surely miss someone and that's no my intention.
Anybody who loved this man, was there for him. Spiritually, emotionally, and physically. When I got the call that Thomas had had the stroke, I felt like I was the one that was paralyzed. This wasn't supposed to happen to HIM! He was too nice of a man. He seemed like he was in good health. Apparently he wasn't. I was shocked. I was traumatized. I didn't even know what to do. But cry. The tears came easily and I prayed to God that Thomas live. He had so much more to give to the world and so much more to say. And let's face it, I love everything that man says!!
So, it's been quite a haul for him and his family but he was able to marry the woman of his dreams yesterday. In a most fabulous wedding. Between his son and his new bride, he got to rest during the ceremony and he got to stand for the parts that he needed to stand for. Seeing those two up there, looking into each others' eyes was awesome. Of course, I was crying from the time I saw Thomas walk in the room. He looked so handsome with his tuxedo on and his head all shaved.
Nothing makes me happier than to see someone I love, get what they want. Something they need. So backing up a little bit, I attended the wedding with Matilda and Jeannie. None of us had ever met the bride-to-be yet so we didn't know what to expect. I have heard nothing but good things about her though and I know that she has been nothing short of a rock for Thomas as he approaches and jumps the hurdles in his life. So the bride-to-be makes her entrance into the room and of course, we all have to stand. This is fine and dandy.....except for all I can see is a man. I looked at Matilda and we both mouthed the words, "She must be short!"
Finally she and her father make their way to the front of the church. She is wearing a most gorgeous white gown and a tiara. She is positively gorgeous. Wow, good score cousin, good score!! I have to be honest though and say that after I saw her...........mind you this was my first time seeing her.........my first thought was "Is she old enough to vote yet?" Oh I laugh at myself. What I wouldn't give to look as young as she is.
And I don't know how old she is but whatever her age is, she looks incredible! Unless of course she's only eighteen. Then I would have to say that she looks her age! Ha! Watching one of my favorite people in life, marry the woman that he is in love with, was one of my favorite things in life. He always joked with me and told me that he would never, under any circumstances, get married again. Ha ha cousin, you lied!
During the ceremony, they asked the friends and family to bow their heads and say a prayer for the couple. It seemed to me like they gave us about ten seconds to do this...........and I am being nice on that time frame. My prayer for them lasted much longer than what the preacher allowed for. I couldn't stop asking God to help them with everything they would need for the rest of their marriage...for the rest of their lives. What I really needed was about an hour to say the prayer for them that I want for them.
That would have been uncomfortable. Someone surely would have thought I had fallen asleep! Anyway, there was a piece that was sung and it was called "The Prayer." It was maybe the most beautiful song I've ever heard. I don't know who sings it. I don't even know how to get a copy of it. All I know is that this song was amazing. It should be played in EVERY beautiful wedding! It should be a law. Thanks cousin, for introducing me to that song.
After the ceremony was over, we got to go through and say our congratulations to the new couple. Of course I introduced myself as The Queen. She may as well get used to it just like everyone else, right? Not only is this woman gorgeous, but she is a great addition to the family and compliments Thomas so nicely. I can't say enough nice things. I hope to get to know her a little better now that we are family.
We were all given bubbles for when the bride and groom came out of the church and there was just enough wind that I think all the bubbles went the other way. That's okay though. The breeze was very welcome after all the heat we've been suffering through. The newlyweds and some of the younger members of the wedding party climbed up on the back of an old fire truck and took a ride around town. Very nice and very beautiful. I will hold that day in my heart for the rest of my life.
Thank you cousin Thomas.........for including me in your very sweet, very special day. I love you!
My cousin Thomas and I have a "special" relationship. I really didn't get to know him until we were older. I mean, I have known him my entire life but didn't really KNOW him until later. A few years before he retired, he and I started to become acquainted with each other better and I realized just how awesome this man really is. He has a huge heart.....he just likes to keep it buried so deep, that nobody will ever get to it and find out that he has feelings about a lot of things and truly cares about those around him. Don't you dare tell him I told you this, either!!
After Thomas retired, we met up almost everyday for coffee. Not on purpose really. We just both ended up at the same coffee place. He would give me shit. I would give him shit right back. The perfect family relationship, right? Right!! Thomas named me "The Queen," because............well I don't really know WHY he named me that for sure.............I think it was because he was amazed at how I could be so mean to the "men in my life," but still always have one! -_- I am sure you remember me saying a while back that I am not the easiest person in the world to live with!! I think somewhere in there, is how "The Queen" was born.
Although.........if I were being treated like a Queen, I would still be with my first husband, right? Right?? RIGHT??? I rest my suitcase!! Anyway, no matter where I saw Thomas and no matter what we were doing, I would always say "Hey, there's my favorite cousin.........but don't tell your sister I said that!" And he would say "There's the Queen!" I love that man.
I am not too sure how long ago.....around a year ago though.........Thomas had a stroke. A bad stroke. He was in the hospital for quite some time and has had to undergo a lot of physical therapy. He has had set-backs and steps forward. One thing that is for sure, is the constant love and support he has had from his family. From his wonderful (then) girlfriend Rebecca, to his daughter, mother, son, sister, brother-in-law, grandkids, nephews and many many others. I am not going to try to name everyone because I will surely miss someone and that's no my intention.
Anybody who loved this man, was there for him. Spiritually, emotionally, and physically. When I got the call that Thomas had had the stroke, I felt like I was the one that was paralyzed. This wasn't supposed to happen to HIM! He was too nice of a man. He seemed like he was in good health. Apparently he wasn't. I was shocked. I was traumatized. I didn't even know what to do. But cry. The tears came easily and I prayed to God that Thomas live. He had so much more to give to the world and so much more to say. And let's face it, I love everything that man says!!
So, it's been quite a haul for him and his family but he was able to marry the woman of his dreams yesterday. In a most fabulous wedding. Between his son and his new bride, he got to rest during the ceremony and he got to stand for the parts that he needed to stand for. Seeing those two up there, looking into each others' eyes was awesome. Of course, I was crying from the time I saw Thomas walk in the room. He looked so handsome with his tuxedo on and his head all shaved.
Nothing makes me happier than to see someone I love, get what they want. Something they need. So backing up a little bit, I attended the wedding with Matilda and Jeannie. None of us had ever met the bride-to-be yet so we didn't know what to expect. I have heard nothing but good things about her though and I know that she has been nothing short of a rock for Thomas as he approaches and jumps the hurdles in his life. So the bride-to-be makes her entrance into the room and of course, we all have to stand. This is fine and dandy.....except for all I can see is a man. I looked at Matilda and we both mouthed the words, "She must be short!"
Finally she and her father make their way to the front of the church. She is wearing a most gorgeous white gown and a tiara. She is positively gorgeous. Wow, good score cousin, good score!! I have to be honest though and say that after I saw her...........mind you this was my first time seeing her.........my first thought was "Is she old enough to vote yet?" Oh I laugh at myself. What I wouldn't give to look as young as she is.
And I don't know how old she is but whatever her age is, she looks incredible! Unless of course she's only eighteen. Then I would have to say that she looks her age! Ha! Watching one of my favorite people in life, marry the woman that he is in love with, was one of my favorite things in life. He always joked with me and told me that he would never, under any circumstances, get married again. Ha ha cousin, you lied!
During the ceremony, they asked the friends and family to bow their heads and say a prayer for the couple. It seemed to me like they gave us about ten seconds to do this...........and I am being nice on that time frame. My prayer for them lasted much longer than what the preacher allowed for. I couldn't stop asking God to help them with everything they would need for the rest of their marriage...for the rest of their lives. What I really needed was about an hour to say the prayer for them that I want for them.
That would have been uncomfortable. Someone surely would have thought I had fallen asleep! Anyway, there was a piece that was sung and it was called "The Prayer." It was maybe the most beautiful song I've ever heard. I don't know who sings it. I don't even know how to get a copy of it. All I know is that this song was amazing. It should be played in EVERY beautiful wedding! It should be a law. Thanks cousin, for introducing me to that song.
After the ceremony was over, we got to go through and say our congratulations to the new couple. Of course I introduced myself as The Queen. She may as well get used to it just like everyone else, right? Not only is this woman gorgeous, but she is a great addition to the family and compliments Thomas so nicely. I can't say enough nice things. I hope to get to know her a little better now that we are family.
We were all given bubbles for when the bride and groom came out of the church and there was just enough wind that I think all the bubbles went the other way. That's okay though. The breeze was very welcome after all the heat we've been suffering through. The newlyweds and some of the younger members of the wedding party climbed up on the back of an old fire truck and took a ride around town. Very nice and very beautiful. I will hold that day in my heart for the rest of my life.
Thank you cousin Thomas.........for including me in your very sweet, very special day. I love you!
2012/07/06
The grass is always greener
You know that phrase "The grass is always greener on the other side?" Thinking about that, how many times have you heard "The grass ISN'T always greener on the other side?" I bet I have heard the latter more times than the actual phrase. Hell, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe the phrase I keep hearing is the real phrase. You tell me! I think I got it right though.
I have picked a couple of areas in my life that I think the grass has died. I see greener grasses in the field across the street and I like it better. I think it's time to cross the street and check that field out. I wanna know if it's bumpier than my own yard. I wanna know if it's getting the nourishment it "looks" like it's getting. And I wanna know if the roots are as healthy as I am led to believe they are.
I will keep you posted on my findings. Don't hold your breath. This could take months. Maybe a year.
So, as much as I didn't want to............and because I feel so guilty about what has happened in our household, I have decided that this puppy, "Buddy," we are keeping. I bought him his first collar today and his first leash. We have started on the potty training. Just as I typed that last sentence, he started looking for a place to poop. I just followed him around my dining room for ten minutes with a training pad in my hands just waiting for that turd to fall out. And it did. Success!
Rule #1 no shitting in my house.....or peeing....unless you can do it in the toilet.
Rule #2 no animal of ours will EVER be allowed outside ALONE unless on a lead.
This includes the rule that when outside with someone, there HAS to be a leash on them.
A leash on the animal, not the person. Depending on who it is.
He's a fun little guy, Buddy. He growls at us when he wants to play. He loves to lay in my hair when we're relaxing on the couch. I think he thinks he'll find a tit in there to suck on. Surprise! No titties for you anymore! FROM ANYWHERE!!! Just making that clear. But he always falls asleep when he gets a chance to lay in my hair so it all works out. Up to this point, he hasn't ever pooped or peed on our futon. He will always make a point to let us know he needs down or he will jump down. I don't like it that he's jumping off of there yet. He's only five weeks old.
But just as he won't poop or pee there, he WILL poop and pee on my floor. Started out in the living room. The room where we have HALF carpet and HALF bare flooring. Because someone had the brilliant idea to start pulling the carpet up!! What a dim whit!! Anyway, since we have started using the shampooer on the carpet, he doesn't like to poop in there. Just pee. Geez!! His pee spots are about the size of a dime. I know, I know.....that's not the point. So anyway, he likes to go out onto my hard wood floors and poop now. We can't really figure out why this started.
He's actually the first dog that could tackle the hard wood floor. All the others have hated it. Maybe that's a good sign. I certainly hope so. And while we're on the subject of dogs. I have an awesome announcement to make. I just hope I don't jinx us by blurting it. But here goes. We have had a young boy stop by our house almost every day for the past few weeks and he always asks if he can pet the dogs. Of course we tell him yes. It seems he has fallen.............and fallen hard.............for our dear little Tucker boy. We told him that if he could convince his momma, he could have him AND we'd throw in his dog house and pay for his shots to get updated.
So yesterday the boy and his dad came and got Tucker and took him to their house to see how the other dog did around him and I suppose to see what momma thought of him as well. I think all the members of the household loved him. It's the other dog that didn't take very well to him. But that's to be expected. The dad brought Tucker back last night and said that they would be back today to take him back over and give him a bath and let him "get the feel for the place" but they never showed today. That made me sad. I hope they come back and get him. My guilt for him losing his sister would be a lot less.
There I go again...........thinking of ME! -_-
Well, that's it for now. Got a lot on my mind but nothing to talk about yet. I hope your dreams are wet and your weather is restful. Wait...........I think I got that..............naw, it's right. Until next time, just remember, save our farms, build in the city! -_-
I have picked a couple of areas in my life that I think the grass has died. I see greener grasses in the field across the street and I like it better. I think it's time to cross the street and check that field out. I wanna know if it's bumpier than my own yard. I wanna know if it's getting the nourishment it "looks" like it's getting. And I wanna know if the roots are as healthy as I am led to believe they are.
I will keep you posted on my findings. Don't hold your breath. This could take months. Maybe a year.
So, as much as I didn't want to............and because I feel so guilty about what has happened in our household, I have decided that this puppy, "Buddy," we are keeping. I bought him his first collar today and his first leash. We have started on the potty training. Just as I typed that last sentence, he started looking for a place to poop. I just followed him around my dining room for ten minutes with a training pad in my hands just waiting for that turd to fall out. And it did. Success!
Rule #1 no shitting in my house.....or peeing....unless you can do it in the toilet.
Rule #2 no animal of ours will EVER be allowed outside ALONE unless on a lead.
This includes the rule that when outside with someone, there HAS to be a leash on them.
A leash on the animal, not the person. Depending on who it is.
He's a fun little guy, Buddy. He growls at us when he wants to play. He loves to lay in my hair when we're relaxing on the couch. I think he thinks he'll find a tit in there to suck on. Surprise! No titties for you anymore! FROM ANYWHERE!!! Just making that clear. But he always falls asleep when he gets a chance to lay in my hair so it all works out. Up to this point, he hasn't ever pooped or peed on our futon. He will always make a point to let us know he needs down or he will jump down. I don't like it that he's jumping off of there yet. He's only five weeks old.
But just as he won't poop or pee there, he WILL poop and pee on my floor. Started out in the living room. The room where we have HALF carpet and HALF bare flooring. Because someone had the brilliant idea to start pulling the carpet up!! What a dim whit!! Anyway, since we have started using the shampooer on the carpet, he doesn't like to poop in there. Just pee. Geez!! His pee spots are about the size of a dime. I know, I know.....that's not the point. So anyway, he likes to go out onto my hard wood floors and poop now. We can't really figure out why this started.
He's actually the first dog that could tackle the hard wood floor. All the others have hated it. Maybe that's a good sign. I certainly hope so. And while we're on the subject of dogs. I have an awesome announcement to make. I just hope I don't jinx us by blurting it. But here goes. We have had a young boy stop by our house almost every day for the past few weeks and he always asks if he can pet the dogs. Of course we tell him yes. It seems he has fallen.............and fallen hard.............for our dear little Tucker boy. We told him that if he could convince his momma, he could have him AND we'd throw in his dog house and pay for his shots to get updated.
So yesterday the boy and his dad came and got Tucker and took him to their house to see how the other dog did around him and I suppose to see what momma thought of him as well. I think all the members of the household loved him. It's the other dog that didn't take very well to him. But that's to be expected. The dad brought Tucker back last night and said that they would be back today to take him back over and give him a bath and let him "get the feel for the place" but they never showed today. That made me sad. I hope they come back and get him. My guilt for him losing his sister would be a lot less.
There I go again...........thinking of ME! -_-
Well, that's it for now. Got a lot on my mind but nothing to talk about yet. I hope your dreams are wet and your weather is restful. Wait...........I think I got that..............naw, it's right. Until next time, just remember, save our farms, build in the city! -_-
2012/07/05
A little bit of nothing
Here I am. I bet you thought I got lost, huh? No worries. I left a trail of macadamia nuts to find my way back. I am always guaranteed a good time at the end of a nut line. So....I really don't have anything in particular to talk about tonight. I just felt like it had been a while. And it has. Four days. It's a lifetime to some. For example...butterflies. Well that's not completely true. I mean...to be honest...I really don't have a clue what the lifespan of a butterfly is. And don't rightly care either. -_-
Got some AC/DC banging through my head currently. That should scare away any and all thoughts that are lurking in the deep dark corners. Beware. I can't possibly be held responsible for what is about to follow.
I had an interesting email today. From my boss. I guess he didn't like it that I made a post on Facebook that said work was a circus the other night. What would he like me to say? That it was a fucking-soup-hole-of-a-nightmare? Because to be honest, that's what it was. I dealt with some pretty stoopid people that night. Oh and all those stoopid people let the rest of their stoopid relatives out on the Fourth of July. Who allows this shit? Who makes these decisions? If I had a dime for every phone call I received on the Fourth of July where someone was stating, "There are fireworks going off near my house," I probably would have made an extra sixteen dollars on top of my holiday pay. I'd take that.
Just for the record, in case you didn't get the memo by now.................for next year's Fourth of July.......... no matter what day of the week the Fourth of July falls on......THERE WILL BE FIREWORKS LET OFF. Legal AND illegal. The police can only do so much. I think the ones that I really want to just bitch slap are the ones that call every thirty minutes because their neighbor............or someone up the street keeps lighting one off every thirty minutes. Cripes people, that's a power nap between each pop! Enjoy that shit. There are a lot of countries out there that don't have the freedoms we have so take the cobs out of your asses and enjoy that shit while it lasts.
People get too old way too young. I must admit, I don't do the same things I did five years ago. And I don't think some of the same things are funny. This isn't always a good thing. It's growing up but sometimes I think it's growing old. Five years ago, if someone would have pushed me into a lake fully clothed, I would have chased them down and threw them in as well. If someone did that today, I would go to my car, get my pistol and see how fast they really can run. That's me getting too old way too young. We tend to outgrow the things we enjoy simply because we have "responsibilities."
So you have to get up at five a.m.. Who made that rule where you have to be in and relaxing and going to bed by ten? Your head or your body? I think my body has made way too many decisions for me over the course of my young life already. My mind is breaking free and taking it's freedom back. Yep, I'm fighting back from getting old. I am going to stay up late every night for a week and be a real rebel. I may even hand-scrub the bathroom floor. There's no end to my madness, I tell you.
Jon Bon Jovi screaming "Bad Medicine" in my ear currently. I wish I had some of that. Maybe not the bad stuff but the medicine stuff. My stomach is killing me. It won't go away. Maybe I just need to poop. I will stay up late just to see if I can make myself feel better. I bet you will sleep better knowing that, huh?
So tonight Gee and I made pies. Well to be honest, I made PIES. He made A PIE. Singular. I would have made all of them but by the time I cleaned, peeled, cut, mixed, rolled, cussed, rinsed and repeated....I was exhausted from the shoulders down. I made peach and apple. He made apple. They look pretty damned tasty too! What fun! When we were done, he was covered in flour and I was not.
"Do you know why I am clean Gee and you are not?"
"Because the messier baker makes the better pie?"
"No silly! Because I work ABOVE my product and you work at the same level."
I'm pretty sure he thinks I am an idiot. So be it. I won't have to change my clothes for three days if I don't want to. I bet he's glad he came home from work early today. He got to help clean the floors and make an apple pie. What a man.
Does anyone know how to turn the volume down on these IPod things? I have Bowling for Soup screaming at me. Literally. There isn't a volume button on here anywhere. I could be deaf for life after this. It's a good thing it doesn't affect my typing ability, huh?!? Rest assured, you will hear from me forever.....and one day.
So we had something odd happen at work last night. This is the second weird thing that I have seen happen with my own eyes. Did I tell you about the "shadow?" NO? Oh you're gonna love this! One Saturday afternoon, I was working with Vivian and we were closed up in the office watching Cupcake Wars. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something on the monitor moving. I looked over and it showed the booking room and there was this shadow.....that's the only way I can explain it. It moved it's way from the west end to the east end. I said "Viv, look at that!" She looked and she said "What is that?" She thought it was from when the sun goes down and it makes shadows on the walls and stuff. That would have been a great explanation except for the fact that there are absolutely NO windows to the outside in that room. NONE.
As we watched it move, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something go right across the front of the door of the office. "It's outside the door. Open it!" I run out there and I see.....................nothing. I felt nothing. I was creeped out, excited and bummed all at the same time.
Well last night, two phone lines lit up like someone was in the front office and they were making an outgoing call. The only problem with that was that that particular office was closed...locked tight. Nobody had been in there since 1600 hrs the previous day. And I had video to prove that nobody else was in the building with us. Me and the jailer. That was it. That's creepy and fun all at the same time too. This morning I texted the gal in that office and told her what we had seen and she said that her message light was on this morning and it said there was a message left at the same time I said this happened BUT it was an empty message!! How creepy is that!!??!!
One last thing. Gee got into some poison ivy. From his feet to his................you know.........he is all broken out and itchy. I went to the store and got two different poison ivy "itch relief" medicines. One was a buck ninety nine. One was three dollars and nineteen cents. He put the cheap one on his right leg today and the brand name on the left. I wanted to see just how well the brand name worked in comparison to the cheapy. Come to find out, the cheapy seems to last longer. The brand name leg was itching a lot sooner than the other. Pretty cool, huh? I did my own test. I am patting myself on the back. My arm is getting tired. Okay okay. The brand name was Gold Bond. The cheapy brand was just something off the shelf at Fareway.
Now you know.
I guess that's all I got for tonight. Maybe tomorrow I will have more news. Going to have a great time with a great person tomorrow evening in the city. Can't wait. Will keep you posted..............if there's anything to keep you posted on, that is. -_- Until then........keep cool. Dammit it's hot out there!!
Got some AC/DC banging through my head currently. That should scare away any and all thoughts that are lurking in the deep dark corners. Beware. I can't possibly be held responsible for what is about to follow.
I had an interesting email today. From my boss. I guess he didn't like it that I made a post on Facebook that said work was a circus the other night. What would he like me to say? That it was a fucking-soup-hole-of-a-nightmare? Because to be honest, that's what it was. I dealt with some pretty stoopid people that night. Oh and all those stoopid people let the rest of their stoopid relatives out on the Fourth of July. Who allows this shit? Who makes these decisions? If I had a dime for every phone call I received on the Fourth of July where someone was stating, "There are fireworks going off near my house," I probably would have made an extra sixteen dollars on top of my holiday pay. I'd take that.
Just for the record, in case you didn't get the memo by now.................for next year's Fourth of July.......... no matter what day of the week the Fourth of July falls on......THERE WILL BE FIREWORKS LET OFF. Legal AND illegal. The police can only do so much. I think the ones that I really want to just bitch slap are the ones that call every thirty minutes because their neighbor............or someone up the street keeps lighting one off every thirty minutes. Cripes people, that's a power nap between each pop! Enjoy that shit. There are a lot of countries out there that don't have the freedoms we have so take the cobs out of your asses and enjoy that shit while it lasts.
People get too old way too young. I must admit, I don't do the same things I did five years ago. And I don't think some of the same things are funny. This isn't always a good thing. It's growing up but sometimes I think it's growing old. Five years ago, if someone would have pushed me into a lake fully clothed, I would have chased them down and threw them in as well. If someone did that today, I would go to my car, get my pistol and see how fast they really can run. That's me getting too old way too young. We tend to outgrow the things we enjoy simply because we have "responsibilities."
So you have to get up at five a.m.. Who made that rule where you have to be in and relaxing and going to bed by ten? Your head or your body? I think my body has made way too many decisions for me over the course of my young life already. My mind is breaking free and taking it's freedom back. Yep, I'm fighting back from getting old. I am going to stay up late every night for a week and be a real rebel. I may even hand-scrub the bathroom floor. There's no end to my madness, I tell you.
Jon Bon Jovi screaming "Bad Medicine" in my ear currently. I wish I had some of that. Maybe not the bad stuff but the medicine stuff. My stomach is killing me. It won't go away. Maybe I just need to poop. I will stay up late just to see if I can make myself feel better. I bet you will sleep better knowing that, huh?
So tonight Gee and I made pies. Well to be honest, I made PIES. He made A PIE. Singular. I would have made all of them but by the time I cleaned, peeled, cut, mixed, rolled, cussed, rinsed and repeated....I was exhausted from the shoulders down. I made peach and apple. He made apple. They look pretty damned tasty too! What fun! When we were done, he was covered in flour and I was not.
"Do you know why I am clean Gee and you are not?"
"Because the messier baker makes the better pie?"
"No silly! Because I work ABOVE my product and you work at the same level."
I'm pretty sure he thinks I am an idiot. So be it. I won't have to change my clothes for three days if I don't want to. I bet he's glad he came home from work early today. He got to help clean the floors and make an apple pie. What a man.
Does anyone know how to turn the volume down on these IPod things? I have Bowling for Soup screaming at me. Literally. There isn't a volume button on here anywhere. I could be deaf for life after this. It's a good thing it doesn't affect my typing ability, huh?!? Rest assured, you will hear from me forever.....and one day.
So we had something odd happen at work last night. This is the second weird thing that I have seen happen with my own eyes. Did I tell you about the "shadow?" NO? Oh you're gonna love this! One Saturday afternoon, I was working with Vivian and we were closed up in the office watching Cupcake Wars. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something on the monitor moving. I looked over and it showed the booking room and there was this shadow.....that's the only way I can explain it. It moved it's way from the west end to the east end. I said "Viv, look at that!" She looked and she said "What is that?" She thought it was from when the sun goes down and it makes shadows on the walls and stuff. That would have been a great explanation except for the fact that there are absolutely NO windows to the outside in that room. NONE.
As we watched it move, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something go right across the front of the door of the office. "It's outside the door. Open it!" I run out there and I see.....................nothing. I felt nothing. I was creeped out, excited and bummed all at the same time.
Well last night, two phone lines lit up like someone was in the front office and they were making an outgoing call. The only problem with that was that that particular office was closed...locked tight. Nobody had been in there since 1600 hrs the previous day. And I had video to prove that nobody else was in the building with us. Me and the jailer. That was it. That's creepy and fun all at the same time too. This morning I texted the gal in that office and told her what we had seen and she said that her message light was on this morning and it said there was a message left at the same time I said this happened BUT it was an empty message!! How creepy is that!!??!!
One last thing. Gee got into some poison ivy. From his feet to his................you know.........he is all broken out and itchy. I went to the store and got two different poison ivy "itch relief" medicines. One was a buck ninety nine. One was three dollars and nineteen cents. He put the cheap one on his right leg today and the brand name on the left. I wanted to see just how well the brand name worked in comparison to the cheapy. Come to find out, the cheapy seems to last longer. The brand name leg was itching a lot sooner than the other. Pretty cool, huh? I did my own test. I am patting myself on the back. My arm is getting tired. Okay okay. The brand name was Gold Bond. The cheapy brand was just something off the shelf at Fareway.
Now you know.
I guess that's all I got for tonight. Maybe tomorrow I will have more news. Going to have a great time with a great person tomorrow evening in the city. Can't wait. Will keep you posted..............if there's anything to keep you posted on, that is. -_- Until then........keep cool. Dammit it's hot out there!!
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