FridaysWeb

Can a pacifist be an anarchist?

2008-09-11T00:46:00.005-04:00

First off, thanks bunches SignGirl! Not making a killing, yet...maybe one day. And yes, my design. It's a shame I don't have a steady hand or I'd be tattooing the hell outta some poor souls willing to part with tons of their hard-earned dollars.

Y'all, I missed my calling. I missed my generation, actually. I was supposed to be a hippy. But the combined kind of hippy, ya know? I would have marched for certain ideals - and definately BURNED MY BRA! - but I'd also have been one of those really cool hippies who smoked pot (which I have been free of for about 2 months, now...don't congratulate me; it was not MY wish) a lot and looked forward to vividly colorful psychedelic trips. I would have worn all natural clothes and probably gone hairy and smelly like so many others did. I would have definately worn flowers in my hair. The hair on my head and maybe even on my legs and pits. To cover the smelly part.

Since I can't actually be a hippy (not cuz of the times, but because of legal ramifications and a responsibility to teach my kids more than just my hatred for "the system"), I can look like one. And I can still preach my opinions and disagree with others who disagree with me (they're wrong, of course, but freedom of speech is one of those things I'd march for). The dressing part is kinda fun, actually. I'm currently working on a psychedelic t-shirt that I'll share pictures of when it's done. Ummm, it's pretty and all, but it's also a bit thought (and perhaps argument-)provoking. You'll see.

The disagreement part, though, is beginning to stir up a little turmoil with a dear friend, though. It's rather disheartening. You see, he thinks "a vote for anyone BUT McCain is a vote for a non-American Muslim" (exact quote from my friend). Personally, I am so discontented with the whole thing, I'm choosing NOT to vote, this year. I believe this will be only the second time I haven't voted during a presidential year since I was old enough to vote. The first time was because we had moved to Michigan and I was not considered a "citizen" of the state, long enough, to vote in that state. Well, it was also a Bush year...

Lately, my friend has taken to sending me daily mass-emails (sometimes several a day) defiling Obama and singing praises of McCain. While he has every right to his own choices, he's beginning to go beyond just stating his opinion; instead, it's beginning to feel like harrassment. When I've asked him about some of my own key concerns regarding McCain (like this ridiculous war that seems neverending), he skirts that question and retorts with remarks about Obama and even other non-partisan candidates. Ummm, yeah, there are others. When I ask how he feels about some of McCain's remarks about "the wealthy", my friend looks at me all doe-eyed and says that [we're all wealthy when we have family and friends who love us...doesn't that mean more than wealthy being defined by how much money one makes?] (paraphrasing, there) He makes a good point, there, but it still doesn't excuse McCain's views on who is "wealthy" and who is middle-class. My friend's latest diatribe began by defending Palin. There are MANY reasons why I dislike Palin, but I've never talked trash about her. Why he feels the need to constantly defend her, in front of me, when I haven't even brought her name into a conversation, speaks volumes to me. Me thinks he doth protest too much.

I know I need to just tell my friend that we're going to have to abstain from any political discussions, lest we destroy a long-time and very dear friendship. I sincerely hope he'll listen and understand that harrassing me about his personal views will only establish a divide that may not be easily mended. At this point, I actually think the only way to get away from all this craziness (politics, in general) is to just move to another country!

Idle Hands are the Devil's Playground

2008-09-05T11:09:00.007-04:00

right this minute:
*listening to Suspicious Minds cover by Dwight Yokum. Not a big country fan, but this particular cover is da bomb

"jobs", currently:
*making and selling jewelry at different venues
*helping out, occassionally at the tattoo shop
*helping out with some of the housekeeping duties at my old (1987-1997) workplace, as the guy who usually does it has been MIA for at least 2 weeks. Have I ever mentioned how much I HATE cleaning? But it pays $10/hour...hard to turn down.
*start tax school Monday, 9/8
*trying to treat the newest spider bite that's got me feeling not-so-nifty. Damn venomous spiders! Wonder what this one was. I don't think I want to know, honestly.

Waiting to see what Hannah has in store for us. If I spelled it wrong, then you can see just how interested I am. Just in case, I think I will put some rocks in the bottom of the outside trash bins, move some of the lawn "decor" (that would be the old rusted mowers, yard tools, etc.) under the back porch, borrow a ladder and yank down the medium size limb that's been dangling, helplessly, for several months...maybe move the doghouse to the front yard so Blackie can hide out in her house instead of under the front porch. She's afraid of storms. Maybe I'll just let Hanna have her way with us, though. Philip's always fancied a threesome....HAH!

Tuesday, 9/2, was Big A's 17th birthday. I knoooooowwww!
Saturday, 9/21 is Little A's 15th birthday. She refuses to sign up for driver's ed. She has no desire to drive. WTF?!
Saturday, 9/28 is Philip's 41st birthday. Hopefully, 41 won't do his head in like 40 did.

Anyone heard the new Thriving Ivory tune? It's Angels On The Moon. Think Simply Red combined with Train. If you don't know those bands, then there's no way I could begin to describe this tune. Sad but somehow pleasant. Worth a free download if you can find it free. I don't see myself purchasing the CD, but it's still a nice break from Tool and the new AC/DC (which effin rocks, btw!). New Metallica due in October, too. WooHoo!

What's New Pussycat, whooooaaaa....

2008-08-04T14:41:00.006-04:00

So, this is what I've been up to, lately.

The cross one you see there...well...

it kicked me in the ass! About 7 hours, total to do this in 3 parts which included macrame, crochet, hand sewing and lots and lots of weaving! But, I sold that one and have another ready for an order I received.

All those range from $3 to $25. The cross one is the most expensive; the keychains and small tie-ons are the cheapest. Honestly, this is so much fun. Now, if I can just make a living off them. Okay, not quite a living...but contribute enough to NOT have to take the bookkeeping job that Philip's pushing on me. Have I ever mentioned how sick I am of secretarial work?

I've moved to another tattoo shop. The one I was frequenting before got a bit scarey. There were lots of rumors of drug-slinging going on quite regularly. I'm not sure if it's true or not, but I'm not willing to take that chance. I just don't want to be in that sort of environment. IF it's true. I'm sad to say, I think I believe the rumors.

The new shop I've begun to frequent is pretty cool. Still small and laid back, but comfy and friendly. The owner has allowed me to set up a small table to sell my jewelry. Ironically, he's bought the most. He loves the funky ones with handcuffs and stuff like that. He recently asked for something that I couldn't find, locally, so I ordered a couple of charms/medallions/whatever you'd call them, online. I started a few strands, suitable for both of them and let him choose. He chose the most expensive of the two charms without me even telling him which was which. Of course, he got the necklace for the cost of the charm + $2. I forgot to take a picture, unfortunately, but suffice it to say, it was kick-ass. Sterling crossed swords with skulls etched in the handles. I may have to order from that place again. Their prices are good and the charms are all sterling and guaranteed for 10 years.

So, that's what's up. I spend most days working on new pieces or hunting for cool beads, shells, charms and such. Now, I just have to start selling more. I spend Friday and Saturday afternoon and evenings there. I like it, I like the people, they seem to like me...and I get tattoos at a discount. Oh, yeah...I just got a new one (no photo yet). I got a large feather on the top of my foot. YES, it was painful as hell. After it was all done, I thought I'd stepped in a yellow-jacket's nest. A couple of days later, though, I was ready for more. Well, when I can afford another one ;)

LsOA

2008-07-08T10:34:00.003-04:00

And so I've been on a sort of mini-leave of absent. It would seem that many others are doing the same. Some have even threatened to leave for good. As such the blogger world goes. I miss you guys.

I'm working diligently to promote my current line of jewelry and a few other irons are in the fire. The girls are out of school for the summer and gas has exceeded $4.00/gallon. This means that the three of us are cooped up quite regularly, during the week. Of course, that means that we must each escape to our perspective bedrooms, on occassion, in order to keep a harmonious balance within the walls. Mama and Daddy have their beach house all dolled up, now; although my mother will never consider it truly completed. There will be many shopping ventures, flea market and yard sale hunts, classified scannings for bargains...all for junk that she probably will never need, but will always find too tempting to resist. As much as they keep pestering us to come stay a weekend, even with their insistence that we need no other money than for gasoline, we simply can't afford the $200+it would take to drive there and back and all the jaunts in between. As my mother cries money woes of her own, I do believe she "doth protest too much".

I'm on grandmother watch, this week. Sharing the duty equally with one of my aunties. Grandma is recently home from yet another week+ stay at the hospital. While each time, I look at her sunken eyes and pale complexion and believe it may be her last, she fights back in that stubborn way of hers. She tries to laugh and cut up with us; all the while, feeling miserable from all the aches and pains of old age and the almost unbearable discomfort of the end stages of congestive heart failure. My grandmother, however, is what us southern folks would call a catbird. Despite the many definitions available at any of the search engines, a catbird (at least in the south) is someone who is tenacious, determined, somewhat stubborn and very humorous in his or her actions when defending an opinion. Or something like that. "My uncle was quite the catbird in his older age, as he could convince you the sky was green and the trees were blue with a gleam in his eye and a snicker to follow." Each night, I dreadfully anticipate a call from Auntie or a kind healthcare worker, letting me know that it's time. Yet, each morning, I awake to find she is still alive and doing fine. And so, for her, I dedicate this little ditty to her own tenacity, determination and open-mindedness:

And the sign says "long hair freaky people need not apply"
So I put my hair under my hat and I went in to ask him why
He said you look like a fine outstanding young man I think you'll do
So I took off my hat I said "Imagine that Huh Me working for you"

Signs Signs
Everywhere there's signs
Fucking up the scenery
Breaking my mind
Do this, don't do that
Can't you read the sign

And the sign says "Anybody caught trespassing will be shot on sight"
So I jumped the fence and I yelled at the house, Hey! What gives you the right
To put up a fence And keep me out Or to keep Mother Nature in
If God was here He'd tell it to your face Man You're some kind of sinner

Signs Signs
Everywhere there's signs
Fucking up the scenery
Breaking my mind
Do this, don't do that
Can't you read the sign

Oh Say now mister Can't you read
You got to have a shirt and tie to get a seat
You can't watch No You can't eat You ain't supposed to be here

And the sign says "You got to have a membership card to get inside" Huh

And the sign says "Everybody welcome Come in Kneel down and pray"
But then they passed around a plate at the end of it all
And I didn't have a penny to pay
So I got me a pen and paper And I made up my own fucking sign
I said Thank you Lord for thinking about me I'm alive and doing fine

Signs Signs
Everywhere there's signs
Fucking up the scenery
Breaking my mind
Do this, don't do that
Can't you read the sign

Signs Signs
Everywhere there's signs
Fucking up the scenery
Breaking my mind
Do this, don't do that
Can't you read the sign
(Signs, by Tesla; originally recorded by Five Man Electrical Band - lyrically incorrect but close enough)

Hot Child In The City

2008-06-18T16:10:00.000-04:00

Nope. Not this time.
Little A was invited to go to New York with her best friend and, apparantly, the coolest dad in the world. Yeah, M's dad spoils M to no end. It's beyond ridiculous. After Philip and I thought about it a bit, we were really stuck in that limbo of "it would be a great experience"/"she'll be gone 2 weeks without us or Big A for comfort if something goes wrong"...and more. Thank goodness Little A solved the dilemma. She's decided she doesn't want to be away from home for 2 whole weeks.

Big A is out tonight for her first real "test" of curfew. Philip will probably be really pissed at me for setting curfew at midnight, rather than 11pm. She's going to a cookout where most of her closest friends will be. There will be parental supervision - no drinking, drugs, sex, etc. - the whole evening. The mom is a bit miffed at Big A for a minor (okay, MAJOR) incident, last year, so the mom will probably be watching her like a hawk, anyway. This "test" is the first time where Big A is required to be home on time, no exceptions. Well, car accident (God forbid!) or car trouble (better frickin not be as it's MY car!) would be the only exceptions. I hope the evening goes without incident.

I would have pictures of the beach to show you, except all those pics were taken with Little A's camera and guess where her camera is? With her, of course. She'll be home from her friend's (this is a pre-New York visit) sometime tomorrow. I better get a frickin camera for my birthday or Christmas, this year! I'm losing it, I tell ya. You know I love[d my camera] more than my luggage! (guess that reference and I'll put a special link for you in my next post) For now, I'll tease you with some (stolen) shots of some of the shopping spots we hit...for the whole 2 hours we got to shop:

Remember Rose's? Morehead City still has one! I ended up there trying to find a t-shirt to replace the one that got ruined on our trip over (whole new story in its own...I won't bore you with that one) because I was too cheap to pay $20 for another Atlantic Beach, NC t-shirt. I think I have a dozen between myself and Philip's stash of t's.

Yeah, we had to go to Wally World for a few necessities we forgot to pack - like shampoo. Why doesn't my mother have shampoo in the second bathroom, yet?!

Speaking of...their place is up and running. The porches & decks are on and it really is pretty. She's still puttering around, decorating this that and the other. Knowing Mama, she'll never get it "just so". That's cool, though. I'll have to remember to tell you guys about the conversation we had with my dad about inviting company...it's a doozy. I'll have to do that one day when I'm not still pissed at his inuendos.

I'm off to find a display case, as I've got about 20 - 25 pieces I'm ready to showcase!

There's Something in the Air

2008-06-13T01:48:00.003-04:00

Last Thursday, I went back to Body Ink to have Troy work on my tattoo, some more. He got the clouds and tree roots, dotted the larger Birdie's eye, but never colored in the moon. That whole night was a pain in the ass - Troy was rapidly becoming stoned on the morphine the dentist gave him after doctoring a dry socket - but it ended up being worthwhile...at least the next day.

I've been making more jewelry. LOTS more jewelry.

And it seems to appeal to the crowd over there. You know, hemp & hippy stuff, with the occassional "bling" added in for good measure. The men tend to like the fancy crosses and the ladies tend to like the pretty hematite beads interwoven. Oddly enough, more women looked at the dragon charmed chokers than men (not pictured... remember, my camera is broken so I have borrow from the girls when "allowed"), and more men liked the anklets with seashells - they wear them as bracelets.

My point...I rambled...the owner of Body Ink liked my jewelry so much, he allowed me to set up a little table outside the shop, Saturday night. They were very slow, which meant I was slow, but there was a lot of interest. Especially the shop owner. He has offered to put some of my jewelry in his Haw River shop AND his Mebane shop! Ummm, if I get a display case. I'm looking for something appropriate: not too small, not too large, cheap as dirt. This is very exciting for me. Imagine making money doing something you enjoy so much! Okay, I know some of you do that, already. This is just something that finally is right up my alley. As soon as I get a few dozen more pieces done and find an appropriate display case.

We're heading to the beach in about 7 hours to help Mama and Daddy get the rest of their stuff moved into their new place. I'm told the porches and decks are up. Unfortunately, Philip, Big A and I will only stay Friday night and come back Saturday evening. Philip's dad has invited his sons to breakfast for a big Father's Day thing. It's become a tradition and I think it's pretty cool. Philip was going to beg off so we could stay an extra day at the beach, but he decided he'd like to have breakfast with his Pop. I'm glad he is going. While I'll be disappointed that I won't get to spend any real time at the beach (we'll be moving furniture and such all day Friday and maybe some on Saturday), I'd walk water for Philip to get to be with his Dad on Sunday. That's sort of my Father's day gift to Philip...not bitching about a quicky-trip so he can spend what may be the last Father's day with his dad. Pop's aneurysm has suddenly gone from 4mm to 6mm. At this stage, it's inoperable, so we're back to watching the clock with my father-in-law.

Big A is dating Jacob, again. He was the one we liked. I'm thrilled. Seriously. Jacob has goals and ambition. He's started on his way towards a life-plan and has sworn to not let anything get in his way.

Today, he called when he knew Big A wasn't home. Yeah, I know it's weird how all the girls' friends are with me, but it works out well. Jacob asked me to be completely honest with him about something. "Have I ever been anything less than honest with you?" He laughed and said that I had not. He then asked how I would feel about the two of them dating again. So, I answered honestly. I told him that it would tickle me to pieces, but I wanted him to be prepared. "Prepared for what?" Well, prepared for the possibility of her breaking his heart again, that's what. She's 16 and is about to go into her senior year of high school. This age and the senior strut can reek havoc on a young girl's social life. He was just so damn adorable when I told him this. His response? "You mean you care that much about me that you would warn me about your own daughter?" Of course I do, but what I said was more a warning to him of what may come - just because - than an "I care this much about you" type thing. I can't really explain that part, but yes, I care, all the same. He began to promise me that he would never break her heart, yada yada yada, but I told him those were promises that he shouldn't make. There are no guarantees at this age and boys will be boys and girls will be girls. I also reminded him that he needn't make promises like that to me, as their relationship had nothing to do with me and everything to do with them. But, deep down, I'm very happy that they are back together. Whatever happens between the two of them, Jacob is truly like family to us and we all enjoy having him around. There's aldo this little thing about his mom being a phsych bitch from hell and I think Jacob needs to experience a more stable family - dysfunctional as hell, maybe, but stable and loving - every chance he gets. If that sounds vain, so be it. I only speak what I truly feel.

This turned out a lot longer than intended. I also had every intention of going in and editing my grammar and spelling, adding appropriate italics and boldface where necessary, summarizing a bit better and so on. Alas, my sleepy eyes won't allow this, so this post stays as is. Besides, I have to get my sorry ass out of bed at something like 7am...less than 5 hours.

Friends, Family, Fun

2008-05-30T01:54:00.011-04:00

So much going on in everyone’s lives.

I notice that Lady K is taking an extended LOA, possibly. C’mon! What am I gonna do without your blog? I know, maybe if I post some of my own sky pictures,

you’ll follow suit. Ehem…I love you, Toots. I really do! Oh, and it doesn’t cost me much to call you…so expect a call sometime in the next several days ;)

To Yorkshire Pudding: my condolences to Shirley and all the family. I won’t dare do the old, “it may have been for the best…” routine, as a loss of one’s parent is a tragic loss, no matter the circumstances. My thoughts are with you all.

I see that Corky had a nasty accident in WV. I’m glad you are all okay. I have to say to you, while West Virginia may border on Podunk and we often see why the toothbrush was invented there, you will honestly never meet a nicer brood of people. Philip and I broke down in some tiny town just outside of Ripley, WV, when we were moving back from Michigan. We literally found the town mechanic at a little Main Street diner – just where the ladies at the hospitality center told us he would be – and he bought our lunch AND met us at his garage, on a Sunday, and helped us get settled into a little motel (where he sweet-talked the owner into letting us bring our dog in) until he could get the necessary parts the following day to get us on our way. You were lucky you weren’t in Tennessee, Ohio – or even worse, Michigan! Sorry to all my Northern pals in those areas, but I think you know where I’m coming from.

Rat, still enjoying your lovely photos. I could SO go lesbian for some of those boobie-shots! At the very least, a threesome wouldn’t be out of the picture. Oh shit! Did I say that out loud?

Jenn, I am SOOOO proud of you and all that you’ve accomplished. While I don’t reply to many folks much, anymore, I still read most blogs as much as I can. You are truly my hero and my inspiration to keep on working towards my own personal goals.

Bradley, Darling, I’m dropping a new brush in the mail for you, soon. My vet recommends this type of wire brush for our extra-furry friends, as it tends to minimize the knots and is supposedly not as painful as some of the other available fuzzbuster schemes on the market, today.

Brian and Diane, I think of you two, often. I hope you are both well. I loved Real Magic so much, I’m reading it for a second time, now! I also use my special bookmark in every book I read. I’ve even quit folding the pages in my paperbacks, just so I have an excuse to use the bookmark!

My sweet Saint of a pal, Alkelda, you have no idea how many times I’ve been tempted to email you for thoughts on an idea I have for a children’s book of my own. I wrote it more than 12 years ago and keep stalling, trying to decide what to do with it. Alas, it sits in a dirty 3-ring binder, gathering dust and needing a MAJOR edit. One of these days…. At the very least, one of these days, I may just email it to you and if you like it at all, you can share it during story-time with all the cuties you often read to. Heck, if I try hard enough, I might even come up with some cute finger-puppets to go along. Every single time I see an adorable little brunette child, carefully pondering a flower or garden gnome, I think of your precious little Lucia. I’d also give my eye teeth to get you over my way to help me transplant some not-yet-dead plants from my original garden over to the mini-garden of shrubs and plants that I brought from my grandmother’s garden. Be it from Heaven or some other special realm, she seems to be blessing these transplants and making them grow beyond my wildest dreams. One day, I’ll take some real photos of “her” handywork to share. I wholeheartedly believe that, between her hands and the lucious (but smelly) quail and garbage compost we planted with, these plants are a gift that I could never reproduce without some sort of divine intervention. Or something like that ;)

I notice that Pissy is getting burnt out on the exercise. Oh yeah, I can relate! Except now, I’m trying to convince Philip to “lease-to-own” (or at least borrow) a pal’s coatrack…I mean, treadmill he never uses AND to put a tv in the living room. He’s been considering purchasing an HDTV (it’s about freakin’ time!) for the den, so moving the behemoth of a 36” analog (that will, most likely, be sent to the black-screen-of-death-junkyard, sometime soon) into the living room isn’t a bad trade-off, anyway. It’s time! Besides, his blood pressure and cholesterol aren’t getting better and my waist, hips and thighs aren’t getting any smaller, so a treadmill with a pleasant distraction sounds just nifty to me.

We never use the formal room; and to be honest, it does nothing but collect dust and junk; so who cares if it’s got 2 computer desks (yeah, I’ll move this one in there, too) and a treadmill? Hell, maybe one day I’ll convince Philip that a tanning bed

is a necessity, not just a want. What better place for a tanning bed and treadmill than the first room you walk into in the house? I could always have people enter through the laundry room where the trash accumulates, waiting for someone to carry it to the outdoor bins…and where the litter box goes unnoticed until one of us finally gags or until the dryer door gets left open and the clothes that sit there waiting for a loving fold begin to smell like cat shit. I’m currently building a fort out of old Scoop Away tubs (the big ones with the handles and all that snazz) and some random , broken laundry hamper that just appeared out of nowhere one day.

Mama and Daddy’s new beach house is up Mostly. I have pictures of the unfinished, below. By the time we go help them move all their old stuff into the new trailer next weekend, there will be a brick foundation; a front porch, partially covered/partially sundeck; a back deck; back screened in porch; outdoor shower; brand new patio furniture. My mom is funny. She’s sweating bullets that people will think less of her because her beach house (in a marina community with $400K houses scattered throughout and ¼ acre lots that sell for more than my house!) is a ***gasp!*** singlewide trailer. Hmmm, let’s see…. It’s 16X76, 3br/2ba and will have all those amenities I mentioned above. It’s a SECOND home for them. It’s PAID FOR. They have FREE MARINA ACCESS. Their neighbors on one side are retired and cool as hell – they call my folks anytime something the LEAST bit suspicious happens and they even mow for my dad when he can’t get there for some reason for more than 10 days. The neighbors on the other side are dillweeds, but they are currently keeping to themselves, since they reported some other neighbors to the county for encroaching on their land…as it turns out, the dillweeds are actually almost 35 feet over onto the OTHER neighbors property. We’re anxiously awaiting the verdict on fines and such. I can’t help but snicker. Ummm, back to the other, though…wtf does my mom CARE what anyone else thinks about her po’ ol’ singlewide (imagine that in a lovely white-trash lilt)? .
Hell, if I could live there, I wouldn’t think twice about living in a fucking trailer! Oh yeah…my dad is good, now! He’s learning new habits and promises to take it a little easier on some stuff, but will begin walking at least 1 mile a day again, as soon as he gets over the stent surgery in his heart and the flu he caught in the hospital. (did I ever mention that Daddy is only 59?!)

We took those pictures when Big A and I went to the beach for a day, last weekend. Or was it the weekend before? Whatever it was, it was hell. She decided she didn’t want to go to prom, this year, due to the person she wanted to go with, and the resentment that some of her ex-friends held towards her because of her break-up with him a little over a year ago. Yep, that one. The ONE boyfriend we all adored. He’s back in the picture but just as a friend, so they say. He seems to enjoy hanging out over here a bunch, lately, but I think it’s mostly because his mom is a psycho bitch from hell and we always cook a hot, homemade meal every night. Anyway… we went to the beach just so she could go eat at her favorite place in the whole world: El’s Drive In. Pictured below. Yes, I drove over 400 miles in ONE DAY, just for her. She better effin love me for that! I didn’t even get to go out on the beach but for 15 minutes, then she wanted to go shopping at the mini-slew of pretend-surf-shop-wannabees that are really just tourist traps for cheap and tacky trinkets. Not that I ever buy anything there. Nooooo…me? Tacky trinkets? Pshaw! El’s was fun, though. We got to feed the stray kittens and all the hundreds of seagulls who hang out there on a regular basis. Seriously, one of the biggest attractions of El’s – besides their SuperBurger, which is TO DIE FOR – is feeding your leftovers to the seagulls. If one isn’t careful, they’ll even fly in your window if you taunt them enough.

The most exciting part of the whole trip (that lasted from 8am Saturday morning until well past midnight that night), however, had nothing to do with the food, the sand, the sun or the shopping. We were rear-ended by a couple of young pussies who chose to do the old hit & run rather than be men about it and pull over when I motioned for them to. Big A saw where they turned into a side street and we went and found their car. It was pretty easy to find, as they were driving a mid-80’s model, ragged out Jeep and they pulled into a well-established and sorta-ritzy pier/marina/upscale restaurant and inn parking area. Their white POS Jeep stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the Lexus’, BMWs and Mercedes’. When they saw us stop at their car to get the license plate number, they ran like the little pansy-boys they were. Despite the fact that we had NO damage to my big boat of a Buick (yeah, still driving that, for now), except a little scratch on the bumper, it pissed me off to no end so we found the police department and reported them. I assured the cop that I had no desire to drive 4 hours (one way) back to Emerald Isle, just for some judge to give them a slap on the wrist, but it’d be swell if he could send out one of his biggest, burliest, scariest officers, just to put the fear of God into them. The cop laughed and said he thought that was a fine idea. I would SO love to have been a fly on the wall…errr….window…when that happened! No one was hurt, though and it was pretty funny. The cop we reported to even got a good chuckle when I told him that it was best I didn’t go after the pussies – umm, yeah, young men - as I was rather pissed and didn’t really want to spend an evening in the hospitality of the Carteret County jailhouse. Big A – her and her tiny stature – wanted terribly for us to catch the twerps and “beat the fuck out of them”, as she so animatedly put it. She would have, too. She is fearless. How do I convince her that the line between fearless and idiotic can be incredibly fine, at times?

The Camaro is running like a kitten. It looks SWEEEEEEEEETTTTTT. Well, the driver’s side does. And looking at it from the front at an angle. It still needs a passenger’s rear quarterpanel or, at the very least, a few taps with a ball peen hammer from the underside and a tad bit of touch-up paint. Or a few dabs of OPI Red, Red Rhine. Now we just have to pay the $195 to register and tag it…and scrape together the extra $300/6months insurance. Highway robbery, I tell you! Oh, to top the bendover in the insurance premium, they almost didn’t want to insure us, anyway, because Big A is an inexperienced driver and they won’t insure a “high-powered” vehicle in a household with “IE drivers”. When I explained that it was just a measly 6cylinder, they changed their tune. Yeah, to the tune of another $600/year.
Sheesh!

Due to my dear friend, Caro, I have learned a new type of jewelry-making. While visiting from London, she wore this lovely hemp necklace that I just HAD TO learn to replicate. As it turns out, the “beads” I need to make that type are hard to find and a bit expensive, so I found some alternatives. I’m teaching myself to macramé and a few other techniques to create really cool hemp jewelry. No, not the everyday variety you’ll see at trinket shops and trade shows; but very intricate and one-of-a-kind types that I hope will go over well with some of the “alternative” crowd I’ve come to love VIA the tattoo parlor and a few other places. It’s unique and nothing like anything one will find around this area. I’ll try my hand at actually selling some of this jewelry, soon. I just have to get past a couple of fishing ventures (on a boat! I’m totally stoked about this!) and the trip to help my folks “move” into their new beach house.

Hopefully, I’ll get the current part of my tattoo finished, around that time, as well. I already have the next phase sketched out. I’ll just have to hope to make enough selling jewelry to help pay some bills AND pay the $200+ for the third installment in what will soon be a total, below-the-knee “sleeve”. Yep, I plan to completely cover my lower right leg. Hell, how much can I regret ONE leg, later in life? It’s not like I’m trying out for Mrs. USA or anything! Not to mention, when it’s my own artwork, why not make it a true part of me? Perhaps, in the near future, I can convince my tattooist that he truly IS talented enough to open his own shop. If he’ll do that, I’d be more than happy to manage the day-to-day operations and maybe, just maybe, put some of my own artwork up for display/sale. My tattooist is a true art-God. You have no idea just how amazing he is, unless you’ve seen him work, freehand, in person.

If you’ve made it this far (and I hope you have), peace to all! I’m floating around here, in cyberspace, thinking of all of you – even those of you whom I’ve not mentioned (I swear!). Stay safe and happy. Most importantly, never forget to be yourself! You only have one life to live (nope – don’t watch soaps, so that’s not where I’m heading)….live it to the fullest and make sure to do everything you want in life; despite what others may think! Be yourself and be TRUE to YOU! I promise, you’ll have no regrets in the end.

Lately

2008-05-18T11:53:00.002-04:00

Thank you, my favorite story-teller, for the lovely card! I just received it, today, for many reasons.

Lately, things have been a bit whacky.

*Thursday-week, we had a terrible storm and lightning struck one of our phone boxes. For some reason, we have 2, since we have 2 phone lines (why they didn't put them both on one box makes no sense, whatsoever). Because of that, internet has been off. Why didn't we hook the other phone line up to the computer? That one's next.

*Last Monday, my dad was rushed to the emergency room with severe chest pains. The docs say it wasn't a heart attack, but we all know it was. I won't go into reasons why. They did find a 75% blockage on one of the main arteries that lies on top of the heart. They scheduled him for immediate surgery to place a stint, but due to governmental red tape - he goes to the V.A. for all his medical stuff - he still hasn't had the surgery. He was scheduled for last Tuesday, then got moved from our local hospital to the V.A. hospital. He was then scheduled for surgery this past Friday. Apparantly, they had 2 emergencies come in that were more critical than him, so he got bumped to Monday (tomorrow). Hopefully they'll get him in first thing - as long as there are no more criticals in front of him. He's feeling fine, but is stir-crazy.

*Big A decided to NOT go to prom because of some boyfriend/male friend issues that's a whole other story for a whole other day. Instead, she asked me to take her to the beach. She doesn't like the beach, but there's this little hole-in-the-wall-drive-in-greasy-spoon that we all love and she wanted to go there. So...we went for the day. It was still cheaper than prom. Barely.

While we were there, we were involved in a hit&run accident. It wasn't a big deal, as we weren't hurt and there was NO damage to my boat...I mean car. It still pissed me off to no end, so we found the guys who hit us. I was too pissed to be able to handle the situation without going to jail, myself, so we just got their license plate number (like the little pussies they were, they tried to hide their car and when we found them, they ran and hid in a crowded restaurant) and went to the police station. I told the cop that I didn't want to press charges because I didn't feel like driving 4 hours to meet with a judge, but I'd love it if an officer would find them and put the fear of God in them. The cop chuckled at my comment of being too angry, then at the request to scare the young men a bit. He liked that idea and dispatched an officer to where the pussies - I mean, young men - were hiding out. He got my information and promised to call me with the results. I can't wait to hear what happened. Other than that, we had a good time, but I ended up driving almost constantly from 8am, yesterday, to 12:30am, this morning. Needless to say, I'm exhausted and my stress-o-meter is in hyperdrive.

*Philip and Little A went boating and fishing with some friends of ours, yesterday. I believe they had a MUCH better time than I did. But, ya know, I can go with them anytime. Seeing Big A happy and getting to do something that silly (driving to the beach and back JUST to go eat) made the day worthwhile. Little A caught the biggest fish. Our friends' son, Matthew, caught the most fish. Little A tells me that Philip kept casting his line straight into trees. Why is that so blasted hilarious? Well, because Philip is really good at just about everything he does. He's somewhat of a perfectionist. He's also, usually, a very good fisherman. Yesterday, however, was an exception. He got ragged on all day because of the tree incidents and everyone had a lot of fun at his expense. I would have LOVED to have seen that! He still fared well, I'm told, catching almost as many fish as Matthew. They were crappie fishing (for those of you not-in-the-know, that's a type of small freshwater fish) and did the catch/release thing, since the fish are generally too small to fillet. None of us eat fish with bones intact, so it was no sense keeping any of them. I was very surprised that Little A actually got "dirty" and didn't "just die" from it. She really had a great time, though and can't wait to go back again. The fact that Philip bought her her very own fishing pole, lures and tackle box had nothing to do with it, I'm sure....hahahahaha!

So, that's what's up, lately. I doubt I'll be around much until after my dad gets straightened out. Hope you are all well.

xoxo to everyone, and to everyone a good night (since I'm going for a nap)

The latest work in progress

2008-05-05T15:04:00.004-04:00

Yep, workin' on the tat again. Check out my pal's MySpace and look for this photo, then this one. There are a total of 4 pics of my latest tattoo on T_Zog's site.

It's still in progress. There's a lot left to do to this one particular piece. Troy spent about an hour taking my drawing and turning it into a line sketch that pleased us both. Yep, he used my drawing again! Of course, he added all the major detail. After that hour, we spent about an hour & a half with ink to skin, then took a lunch break. We went back to work for a bit, then took a quick smoke break. He finished what we were both able to stand (I was IN PAIN! and his back was aching) after the smoke break. We'll most likely finish this one Saturday night. I believe Troy worked on me for a total of 3 1/2 hours, not including breaks. I'm stoked to see the rest of it finished. I already have the next step rough-sketched out, but will have to wait a while, after this particular piece is finished, as I'm out of money ;)

I'll keep you posted.

Oooh! I just saw it! My beautiful (*cough* just nod and smile) leg is featured on his front page right now.

The Magic Shrinking Cat

2008-04-11T11:52:00.003-04:00

Blue Kitty is so much happier, now. She's more playful and loving. Of course, that's after she spent about a week being pissed off at us.

Before the $258 vet bill

After the $258 vet bill

Does anyone know the pounds equivalent to 4 kilograms? I think that's what the vet's report said Blue Kitty weighs. We now know that she's only about 1/2 the size of the other 2 cats. Oh, and Styx weighs in at a whopping 13 pounds, now!

What has pissed me off today. So far.

2008-03-26T11:49:00.004-04:00

The vet.
I finally got Blue Kitty an appointment with a GOOD vetrinarian to get all her shots, groomed, whatever else they do for $250. Yeah, you saw that right.
They called me a few minutes ago:

[vet's assistant]"Mrs. Birdy, this is [I forgot her name] at Central Carolina. Blue is fine, don't worry, but we do have an unfortunate situation."
(I catch my breath and try not to look too panicky in front of Big A)
[me]"Ummmm, oookkaaayyyy. What's up?"
[assistant]"Well, Dr. [Vet]'s husband had to be rushed to the emergency room, so she had to leave."
[me]"Oh my! I certainly hope he'll be okay."
[assistant]"They're sure he'll be fine, but Dr. [Vet] isn't available to monitor the administration of the anesthesia. By law, our groomer can't sedate Blue without a doctor present. We're afraid Blue Kitty may have to stay overnight. Of course, there will be no charge for boarding, seeing as how this was an unforseeable occurance."
[me]"Ummm, okay, I understand. When is Dr. [Vet] going to be available, or will another vetrinarian be on stand-by?"
[assistant]"Well, there lies our problem. We don't actually have another vetrinarian who can fill in. Dr. [Vet] assures us that she will be back as soon as possible. Because we're a 24 hour clinic, Blue will be able to have all the other work done as soon as she comes back in."
[me]"Okay, that's fine. What about [the incredibly flamingly gay groomer who is just cute as a button with a terrific fashion sense, even when in "scrubby" grooming clothes]? How long will he be there? Will he be able to groom her if the doctor comes back in this evening?"
[assistant]"Well, no. And he only grooms on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. He did, however, say he might be able to come in for a couple of hours in the morning to finish the patients he won't be able to get to, today."
[me]"Uh, yeah. I see. So, how long before I get my cat back? [beginning to sound frustrated]"
[assistant]"Oh, don't worry! We'll keep her overnight, at no extra charge. You can get her in the morning, and if [Incredibly flamboyant and cute groomer] can't groom her tonight or tomorrow morning, he can groom her NEXT Wednesday."
[me]"I have to work next Wednesday. This is prime tax season, so there's no way I can get another day off until April 16th. This is going to be a problem.[beginning to lose my temper]"
[assistant]"We're so sorry for the inconvenience, but we're willing to do everything possible to resolve this issue. Could your husband, perhaps, bring Blue back, next week?"
[me]"Noooo. He's a supervisor and could barely get off if it was one of the KIDS needing a repeat appointment. Do I need to call another vetrinary clinic?"
[assistant]"OH NO! We will do everything possible to make sure you get Blue Kitty back as soon as possible. Please don't worry about any boarding fees. We'll only have to charge boarding fees if she has to stay past 3:00pm, tomorrow." (and didn't she just say there wouldn't be any boarding fees at all?)
[me]"I have to work until 5:30, tomorrow. I believe that was discussed. I'm very sorry that the doctor's husband is ill. I completely understand that she has had to leave. BUT, the papers I signed this morning, clearly state that Blue will be able to come home TODAY, as long as there are no complications. This is really just not acceptable. I chose your office because of your outstanding reputation, despite the fact that you were quite a bit higher than some of the other local offices. As a 24 hour office, I find it hard to believe that you don't have another vet available for emergencies."
[assistant]"Mrs. Birdy, we totally understand your worry for Blue Kitty. We will do everything in our power to do what we're able. I hoped you would be understanding, as the doctor is truly beside herself with her husband being ill and all."
[me]"Look, I do feel for your doctor. Really, I do. I just find it hard to believe that you can't have another doctor available to monitor the sedation or that your groomer can't take care of any of the multitude of pets he's supposed to groom, today. Isn't the whole purpose of being a 24 hour clinic being able to have someone on staff at all times? [trying desparately to NOT chew someone a new asshole]"
[assistant]"Mrs. Birdy, I'll talk with [Incredibly adorable groomer] and see what he can do. You know the risks involved with not sedating Blue. If you truly HAVE TO HAVE this done, today, I'll just tell him to go ahead with all of this without anesthesia. If this is what you choose, you'll have to come back into the office and sign consent. This will release us from any liability if your cat dies. [yes, that cold and pissy]"
[me]"You do NOT have my consent to groom her without sedation. That is the whole purpose of me bringing her to you. That is the whole purpose of your ridiculous charge of $98 for sedation, alone. I'll be home the rest of the day. Please call me as soon as you can resolve this issue. I do wish to send best wishes to Dr. [Vet], but I'd encourage you to make arrangements, in the future, to have a back-up vetrinarian for emergencies such as this. Call me as soon as you know something."
*click*

Yes, I know I should go get her and take her to another vet. BUT, I really do have to work forfreakingever for the next couple of weeks. Blue needs to have this done NOW. I worked around THEIR schedule, for goodness sake! If they try to charge me a boarding fee, I'll stop payment on the credit card transaction and they can take me to court. This is just ridiculous.

Yeah, I know I sound like a total bitch, what with the vet's husband being sick and all, but they are a fucking 24 hour clinic! Who takes care of things when the vet isn't there in the evenings or whatever? Guess I won't be recommending them to anyone. And how many times can a person say, "I understand" or "We assure you" before she sounds like a broken record?! Oh, and Blue Kitty better be pampered like a princess while she's there! grrrrrrrr

This and That

2008-03-18T10:25:00.003-04:00

Our customer appreciation weekend didn't go as well as we would have liked, but we DID more than double our return count from last year's figures for this weekend. Booya!

Don’t even go there. It’s only cuz I lub uze that you get to see this. It's hard to tell, but the shades are kinda cool. They're dollar signs!

The kids overslept today. I’m tired of excuses. I’m waiting for that microchip implant that zaps one with thousands of volts at pre-determined times, in order to wake one or just fuck with ‘em a little.

On a bizarre note:

Woman sues over in-flight ejaculation

A 21-year-old Harris County woman filed a $200,000 lawsuit against American Airlines alleging employees on a flight to Los Angeles from Dallas/Fort Worth Airport failed to protect her while she slept from another passenger who masturbated to her and ejaculated in her hair, according to a lawsuit she filed last week in Tarrant County.

The rest can be found here:

Ironic situation happened at work, yesterday. First, for those of you who don’t know or didn’t remember, I’m bipolar. Yes. For real. That’s why the following conversation between our multi-unit-supervisor and myself is so ironic:

MUS: What the hell is up with [my ex-sister-in-law (who was a tax preparer at our office for awhile)]?

Birdy: Why?

MUS: She quits with no truly rational explanation; she goes into a tirade with your daughter (another story for another time – it’s no big deal and it WAS bizarre as hell); she makes a scene in front of customers? Makes no sense!

Birdy: Hey, Philip’s family – real, imagined, blood, extended, all of them – are a pretty fucked up lot. I warned you about that. [laugh]

MUS: You know she shows all the classic signs of bipolar disorder, right? My mother-in-law is bipolar and [sister-in-law] acts just like her, sometimes. I’ve seen crazy bipolar people before. That’s how they act.

Birdy: Well, I know she’s been under a lot of stress, lately. She has a regular full-time job and was trying to work here, weeknights and all weekend long. Her dad is elderly and has to be watched pretty carefully. Her daughter just turned 18 and finally got her license and a job. [Sister-in-law] had to buy her a car to get back and forth to work. She’s not had time to socialize much. Maybe that’s why she’s been a bit…umm…nuttier than normal? I wouldn’t fret about it. She’s not an employee anymore, therefore, not our problem. Ya’ know?

MUS: Yeah, you’re right. I don’t know how close you two are. I hope I didn’t offend you, talking about her like that. But, you have to admit, she does act strange in spells. That’s a classic tell of bipolar; mood swings and the inability to control outbursts in public, when they’re in one of those … moods.

Birdy: [smile and nod, a tad dismissively] Hey, what do want to do for lunch?

Guess she doesn’t recognize it as well as she thinks, huh? Or is it just the rest of the world that’s screwed up and I just found the right meds? Hahahahaha!

I thought I learned "no" when I was like 3 or something

2008-03-12T12:05:00.003-04:00

Apparantly, I didn't learn how to use it in context. Or when to use it properly.

We're having Customer Appreciation Weekend at the tax office. Our district managers have decided that we don't exist. They worked out deals and plans with other stores and helped them get all they needed for their customer appreciation day blowouts, but just completely ignored our store and a few others. So, my manager, our multi-unit supervisor and I have decided to completely fuck up District's plan to forget we exist by out-doing every other store. Of course, we're doing all of this at our own expense. Okay, okay...our MUS did have to get permission to have more than 2 people working during customer appreciation weekend. She did that by threatening to quit, though.

There's a smaller tax franchise in this area called Liberty Tax Service. They have some of their employees dress up in this hideous costume, resembling Lady Liberty. We laugh at them. When they come near our store, we taunt them. Well, jokingly. Sort of.

Someone whom I love dearly (my manager) thought it would be great if we had a great big puffy
"J" costume. And, oh, who sews? Yeah, me. But who should wear the big puffy J? Oh, I wholeheartedly nominated one of our other TPA's. OF course, that wouldn't work. No, no, S is pretty good at her job, but she's not quite as outspoken as I am. So, guess who got nominated to wear the stupid big puffy J that I'm making? Me, of course. Dammit! I could have just said no! But, the one little thing my boss knows she has over me: I just can't say no to her. I never have. She never asks more than is fair. She's never asked me to do anything that wasn't reasonable. Until now. And she's even going to photograph this event and have it put on our corporate website. I may have to turn my head away for that!

Ironically, I'm usually shy in large gatherings of people I don't know. Now I'll be in the middle of a strip-mall, wearing a hideous puffy J costume and shades (thank GOD they said I can wear sunglasses!), waving stupidly at people, handing out balloons to whiney-snot-nosed children whose parents are either MIA (happens a lot in our strip-mall), shopping in another store, or have no intentions of filing their taxes but just come in to enter to win all the prizes we lined up (and paid for out of our own pockets). Oh, and to torture their kids by letting them have a balloon only until they get in their cars to leave.

We're a little worried about how the turn-out will be. If it's a flop, we won't be able to hold our heads high and we'll all be out a lot of hard-earned pocket money for nil. BUT, if it IS a success, we can thumb our noses at District and show them that we did it all on our own. Without them. Without anything but our own hard work and effort. And without their money. I overheard a conversation between our MUS and HER boss, yesterday, regarding the money thing: the 5 category 1 (do over 1200 returns a season) in Greensboro all get a $1500 budget for their customer appreciation days. They have call campaigners working the lists to help bring them business on those days. District will be providing them their balloons. District is helping them contact local sports teams, restaurants, gyms and other facilities for donations for prizes to give away. That's a bit annoying, as they've done NOTHING for us. They won't even let their call campaigners help us out. Fuckers. So, we're paying for it all. Doing it all. My boss and I are also doing all the flyers and such from our homes because we're not allowed to have a color printer at work. We're not allowed to have any software except the bare bones that Corporate deems business-effective (we don't even have Word, yall!). At least our MUS gave me permission to take a ream of copy paper from the office, rather than me having to go buy paper. I still have to buy more ink for my printer, though.

Enough whining, though. While I seem to have difficulty with "NO", if this makes our weekend a success, it'll be well worth it!

HAHA DISTRICT!!! WE'RE GOING TO TAKE CARE OF OURSELVES AND DO IT WITHOUT YOU. EVEN IF YOU TAKE CREDIT FOR IT LATER ON, WE WILL KNOW WHO REALLY MADE IT A SUCCESS.

umm, don't count on seeing a photo of me in a big stupid puffy J, though. hahahahaha

Ahh, the good life

2008-03-04T12:27:00.002-05:00

Life is good. Don't want to jinx myself, but really, life is good, today.

I could bitch about Thing. I could bitch about the lack of decent supplies and such at our office (and what a cheap bunch Jackson Hewitt can be). I could bitch about being 2 weeks behind on my car payement. I could bitch about a lot of things. But I won't.

This next part will sound selfish. Forgive me, please.

I opened the obituaries (as many people find themselves doing more and more often when approaching middle-age) yesterday and got a shock. An all-through-school-friend's dad passed away over the weekend. He was only 59 years old. I remember playing Ring-Around-The-Rosie at his house. Musical Chairs at my friend's 8th birthday party. The big ass apple tree that we used to climb in his back yard. Oddly, I also remember his gorgeous hardwood floors. Was I already learning high-fashion-homes at 8? Who knows.

I thought about my friend, whom I haven't seen in nearly 20 years, now. I realized that as much as a little part of me was sad for her and her brother and the rest of her dad's extended family, I was also very relieved. Relieved that I still have my mom and my dad and my mom's mother and my dad's father. Relieved that Philip still has his parents and most of his siblings. I also realized how much I love my parents (even when I'm upset with either of them). They weren't always very good parents, but at least I have parents; unlike many of my friends, now.

That sort of seems to wander off of the "life is good" theme, here, but it helped me realize just how good life is, at the moment.

My kids are terrific. A little "in-your-face", sometimes, but not always in a bad way. They're smart and clever and funny. They're also healthy.

My husband is an asshole, but an angel at the same time. He has put up with all my insanities for 20 years. He has loved me like no one in my life ever has. He has helped me when I needed it; nudged me when it was necessary; put me somewhere safe when it was dire. He has stuck with me through thick and thin. Even when he hated me (but still loved me) for stupid shit I did or didn't do. And HE is healthy.

I have a job that I enjoy, despite Jackson Hewitt's neglect of our one particular store (they are idiots, I tell you! Our little store, in our big-little town, makes them about a quarter-million dollars richer every year). At least for another month. I have dear friends all over the world. Two of which will be coming to visit very soon! I actually enjoy spending time with the teenagers who are mine and some who are not. Most of them enjoy spending time with me - in spells, at least. I've learned to be a mother AND a friend and confidante. My kids have allowed me to do this.

I live in a place I don't ever want to leave. Well, at least until I can convince Philip to move to the beach...haha.

Oh, and it's beautiful, today. A tad cloudy with rain clouds ominous - but we need the rain so desparately, it makes it okay. It's warm out - about 70° (about 21°C) with a warm breeze from the southwest. Trees are swaying, leaves are twisting and turning into little whirly-dervies in the back yard. I actually have new growth on the shrubs that made the transplant from Mama Dot's garden to my house fairly well. I have bulbs starting to bloom that didn't bloom last year. I'm not sure what they are, yet, but still, they're beginning to show leaves and stalks and "grass".

Philip is in Atlanta until Thursday, but we get to talk every night. I believe I heard him say, last night, that he misses my cooking. Nah, couldn't be. I must have heard that wrong. Maybe he just misses eating at home, all of us together. And absence really does make the heart grow stronger.

I have coffee and chocolate on hand. I have enough gas in my car to do what I need all week, until I get paid. Oh, yeah: I get paid this week!

On days like today, I like to sit and ponder on just how good life is. It's not the big things that make it easy; it's the little things that make it great.

OMG! I can't believe I've been away so long

2008-02-27T18:43:00.002-05:00

Sorry about being MIA for so long. Also, sorry I haven't replied to anyone, lately. I can't seem to find time to pee, much less blog, lately. *sigh*

Lady K, I HAVE read your recent blog entries. I feel so awful for you! I sincerely hope it's all over with, now and that you're well on the road to mend. By this time, next year, you'll have forgotten most of the horrors that went with all the surgeries and just be glad that you feel so AWESOME! I promise :)

I just realized that my last post never completely loaded. How funny it must have seemed.

That tattoo is MINE! I designed it and drew it all except the bird. Whodathunkit, I can't draw a friggin bird! The tattooist liked my design and lettering so much, he just copied it but rounded off the tombstone so the bird had a better perch than the more arched one I had begun with. He duplicated my lettering and all. Yeah, I'm currently working on what to add to it. I'm thinking about having the "tree of life" put in the background with tree roots crumbling out of the ground underneath the tombstone and snaking their way towards my foot.

The same day, Big A got her nose pierced. That's kind of how it all got started. She'd been wanting to get her nose pierced and I thought it was a MUCH better alternative than the belly-button or eyebrow idea she kept tossing around. We quietly headed out on a Saturday afternoon and went to the touted best tattoo/piercing parlour in town. While she was waiting, she kept pushing me to get that tattoo I've always wanted. I finally joked with her that I'd come back and get the tattoo, later that evening, if she promised not to faint on me. She *almost* fainted after the gal got the little stud twisted into place, but she managed to stay with us. Of course, I had to live up to my end of the bargain after that. We didn't tell anyone before we went, so it was all a big shock. The evening ended up being really cool. I called one of my cousins. She came over with her boyfriend - who just happened to be good friends with the top tattooist there - and got me moved from another guy's list over to Troy's list. I am SO GLAD! There was a live band performing that evening, to boot. I'm trying to contact the band, now, to see if I can get them to come play at our 3rd Annual Redneck Bash...shhhhh, don't tell C & D. hahahaha

I'm back at the tax office, by the way. Like you didn't see that coming. Sheesh. I'm tossing around the idea of learning how to pierce and getting certified. If I do, then I'm going to try to sweet talk my way into a job at the tattoo parlour. I seriously doubt yall saw THAT coming, though! I won't do privates or tongues, if I do get certified, though. I'm not squeamish; I just don't want to get sued if someone gets a staph infection in those oh-so-suceptible areas.

Okay, I'm off to design some flyers and coupons for the office. It'd be nice if I got paid for EVERYTHING I do over there!

xoxo to everyone!

Girl's day out

2008-01-27T00:18:00.000-05:00

Big A and I had a girl's day out, today. We went to visit my mom's mom and my dad's dad, who are now both living with Mama and Daddy (Grandma has been pretty sick and can't live alone, anymore. My grandfather has been living with my folks for about 2 years, now). Then we went for lunch, then we went to the local tattoo/body piercing parlour so Big A could get her nose pierced. Sorry, I don't have a picture, yet, as she was exhausted by the time we got home, tonight, and went straight to sleep. After she got her nose pierced (it's a very tasteful small stud

It's beginning to look a lot like...well, not Christmas

2007-12-30T09:33:00.000-05:00

The weather has been insane. We've had t-shirt weather, frostbite weather, rain, sleet, hail - the full gamut - all in no particular order the last few weeks. Christmas day was kinda gloomy and cool, but not really "cold". Most of us had on sweaters and sweats and no jackets.

I've been sick since 12/19 (yes, the day after my b-day and the day of the TSO concert - who are AWESOME!). Philip and I argued over whether I should go to the doc or not. I finally won, Friday. He should have let me go sooner. I have a sinus infection, upper respiratory infection, ear infection and "walking pneumonia" (the doc officially called it "crud in your lungs that would normally warrant me putting you in the hospital, but I know you won't go"). I also was (re) diagnosed with asthma. I've had asthma since I was a kid, but it's always been related to allergy attacks. This time, my body just couldn't fight off all the other stuff AND the asthma, so that didn't help things much. I also couldn't afford to fill all my FIVE prescriptions. I talked to the doc and she told me which one I could hold off on, so I'm trying to do without it. She said if worst came to worst, call her back Monday (tomorrow) and she'd see if she could find samples either at their office or at one of her friend's practices. I think I'm doing okay without it, though.

Did you guys know that prednisone makes you hyper? And won't let you sleep? And makes your skin flush? And makes you pee a lot? And leaves a horrible taste in your mouth and smell in your nose? But, I can catch my breath, finally. I think all the rest is worth it for that.

I started back at the tax office, yesterday. Yes, I went in sick as hell. My boss followed me around with Lysol...hahahaha. We really did make sure to keep the phone sprayed down, my work station and other places where I sat down for any length of time. It would suck to get other people sick. Yesterday was mostly just training, though. New year: new laws, programs, ethics and fraud policies, etc. I start, officially, Wednesday. Oh, and my boss and I are the ONLY daytime employees at the moment. WTF is up with Jackson Hewitt?! The class I went to a couple of weeks ago had over 600 people in it. How come none of them are working at OUR office? Or at least as daytime help? We have one woman who is about 14 months pregnant who will be a preparer, but she can only work from 9am-2pm. What's the use? She really is due anytime, now, anyway. But, hey, whatever. I can handle it.

Tax changes this year are pretty fucked up. A lot of things aren't even in place, yet. Don't run out to get your refund checks as soon as you get your W-2's this year. Wait until late February or early March if you can. One of the changes needed is a "fix" that is usually set in place every tax season before January. It hasn't even been approved, this year, yet. Dubya has even (so our instructor told us) threatened to veto the "fix", even though it's the same fix as every year - to accommodate inflation and such. I tell ya, the man has just slap lost his fucking mind. If you have ever liked him, that's your choice and I won't hold it against you ;) BUT, if you STILL like him...well...he's bending us over every way he can, right now. If he vetoes this patch, everyone who makes over $33K/year will have to work with an alternative minimum tax. Do you usually get a refund? You won't.

Okay, the prednisone has kicked in and I can't be still. May as well go clean something. Or make something. Or go for a run, pulling a car behind me or something....hahahaha!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you all!

Happy Holidays from the Birdy Family

2007-12-24T21:40:00.000-05:00

May you all be blessed this season. Stay safe and enjoy the love that seems to spread even moreso during this time of year.

If you visit Starbucks, at all, I urge you to get into the "pass it on" thing. If you don't know about it, it's simple: you offer to buy the person's order who is behind you. If it goes well, they will, in turn, buy the next person's order (even if it costs a bit more), and so on and so on. Little A and I did this, today and we found out that we were the FIFTIETH customer who did so! How cool is that?

xoxo to you all.

p.s. Brian and Diane: thank you SOOOOOOO much for the book! I'm loving it AND the bookmark. Ya'll are very special in my heart.

Timeline

2007-12-18T09:15:00.000-05:00

Today: I am officially 38 years young. I'm going to lunch with my mom, then hoping to finish my Christmas shopping. Philip has his work Christmas party to go to. I won't see him until 10-ish or later. Umm, attendance from the employees is all but mandatory, so I'm not upset that he's going. Besides, he'll get his "Christmas bonus", which usually consists of gift cards to the most expensive grocery store in town. But, hey - free groceries are free groceries!

Tomorrow: Trans-Siberian Orchestra. I'm taking Big A and Thing. Wish me luck...it would suck to get arrested for assaulting a pedantic, mopy, self-centered waste of a "young man", while in another city, many miles away.

Friday: We have some party to attend, but I can't remember where or what time. I'm counting on Philip to remember that.

Saturday: Philip's mom and dad are having an "open house". I'm trying to get out of it, as we'll see them Christmas day, but Philip is trying to talk me into it. C'mon! I'll be tuckered by Saturday.

Sunday: My family's Christmas. I'm actually excited about it because my mom got the girls some kick-ass cool gifts that they actually ASKED FOR! Oh, and she's getting Philip "Kissology Vol. 3"!! He'll be so totally stoked!

Monday (Christmas Eve): Big A goes to spend the day with Thing and his family. Little A and I are taking a shift with my grandmother (she had a stroke a few weeks ago and has to have someone with her 24/7, for now).

Christmas Day: A trip to visit Grandma again, then off to Philip's family's Christmas. It should be fun. We each bought $1 gifts for everyone in the family. Every person will have 19 gifts to open (even if they ARE cheap, it's still fun)! We're also doing "Dirty Santa" - his mom calls it "Stingeeee Santa" (yes, with multiple eeeee's). Not my favorite part of it all, because someone ALWAYS gets their feelings hurt. The grown-ups will "steal" gifts from the kids that the kids oftentimes want to keep. I usually end up with the new set of fridge magnets or whatever, so at least ONE of the kids gets to keep the gift he or she really wants. It's just a game, for Christ's sake. Why grown-ups act like 4-year olds in a Barbie (or GI-Joe) tug-of-war is beyond me.

Wednesday: I start back at the tax office! I'm so totally giddy about going back there. Getting a paycheck is exciting, too.

New Year's weekend: A friend's "Holiday Party".

New Year's Eve: Hopefully nothing at all.

I'm tired just reading all that....

Neat Idea

2007-11-27T11:33:00.000-05:00

Okay, don't steal my idea! Hahaha...you can, if you want. You can also tell me if it sounds cheezy as hell. Actually, please tell me if you think it's cheezy!

For family and our closest closest closest friends (cuz we're talkin' bout money I wanna spend on the kids, not on extra cd's, jewel cases, labels, etc.), I'm making a CDRom kinda like one of those "newsletters" that some folks send out in lieu of Christmas cards each year, but as a slideshow you can play over and over if you want.

I say I'm making the cd...actually, I'm just getting stuff set up how I want it and Big A is going to "assemble" it for me. She knows how to do all this stuff. She's going to set background music in it, too. When I asked her if she knew how to do it, she just "pshawed" me and waved her hand. She said, "Gosh Mom, that's easy as pie!" I think I blushed. Easy as pie? C'mon! Is it really that easy, or is this one of those teenage things where they've learned so much in computer technology that they make some of us grown-ups seem completely ignorant?

Anyway, I'm adding photos of some of the more important events of this past year. I'm recalling cool stuff that's happened (like becoming a great-aunt for the second time - including a picture of my neice and her husband with the new baby - 1 month old, now). I think it'll be fun. Except....I can't give one to my dad's dad (Papa) or my mom's mom (Grandma Mac), because they don't have computers. They DO both have dvd players, though. Now I'm wondering if Big A knows how to burn a dvd. She finally got her computer set up and it has a dvd burner and all the bells and whistles. If she tells me she knows how to move the slideshow and such over to dvd, I think I'll have to smack her! hahahahahaha Maybe I should take a "computer for dummies" class or something??

Umm, Philip told me something last night that made me sick to my stomach. I only have $500 to spend on Christmas for EVERYONE! Has he lost his ever-lovin' mind? That doesn't even cover the girls' lists!.

Hell, HIS list is more than half of that!

*sigh* I guess I have to hope that I sell a few pieces of my craftwork and that I get a LOT of money for my birthday. The girls WILL get the most important items on their lists.

Even if I have to do something underhanded or go strip at the local sesspool. You think I'm kidding?

Quiet

2007-11-22T01:01:00.000-05:00

Do you ever feel like just being quiet and still? Not so much a "down" as just, "I'm tired of being busy and all the noise of the outside world" - kind of quiet?

I need some quiet.

I've found some lovely smooth jazz and old-school soul/blues and downloaded them. I think to me, the music is perhaps like a glass of red wine, after a long day, feels. Relaxing. Slow. Quiet. Still. Tranquility.

My grandmother is in the hospital again. She's had a mini-stroke - amazingly, she reached the hospital just in time for the ER staff to stop the stroke. I didn't even know they could do that! Her EKG is not good. Her heart is working overtime, her blood-gases are way too low, her blood pressure is being controlled with strong doses of nitro-glycerin and aspirin and something else - I really didn't need to know anymore than that. We're going to see her tomorrow.

She's been very depressed, lately and finally talked with her nurse about it. They started her on Paxil, yesterday. They're pretty sure none of the above symptoms have anything to do with the Paxil, because of the timeframe. I mean, it would be way too soon for Paxil to do any damage - and it's supposed to be pretty safe.... except for the dependancy part. But, hey, if it works... I'm just really starting to accept that she's old. She was always the strong grandmother. She was always forgiving and had a kind word after giving you a good ol' "talking to". I hope she'll give me a good ol' talking to, tomorrow when I go to see her. Remind me that I need to visit more.

I'm just thinking out loud, really. I'm going to listen to some smooth sounds - gonna even add in some fan-fucking-tastic guitar and piano (Santana, Satriani, Ferrante & Teicher). *sigh* Barry White is about to croon a good one out, so, still and quiet night to you all.

Aqua-venison and popularity

2007-11-14T12:59:00.000-05:00

(the first part may bother some of my fellow animal-lovers, but I assure you, it was not MEANT to be such a painful experience for Bambi's mother...damn Philip! If you look past the sadness, the story has its funny parts, I promise.)

The story of the swimming deer:

Last Saturday. First day of rifle/shotgun season. Philip barely sleeps through the night and is up at 3:30 am. He's pissed because his best bibs and jacket are missing. It's cold as hell, but he's managed to find some layers - just not as much camoflauge as he'd like. I wake up because of all his nervous energy, despite how quiet he tries to be. He apologizes, I say it's okay, he turns the overhead light on (that's NOT okay, dammit!) and begins talking to me. WTF?! I said it was okay that he woke me up, not that I was willing to hold a conversation!

Saturday night. He comes home around 9pm. I asked if the shot I heard at 9:30-ish was his. No. His shot was at 7-ish (am). I ask if he went back out that evening. Yes, to continue trying to find his deer. ??? After one friend with tracking dog gave up all hopes, Philip went to find the master of all trackers: PeeWee (Penny, the 12 year old, completely deaf, 4 lb. chihuahua/fice mix). Oh, and her person: Roger. After many more failed attempts, even PeeWee the Magnificent can't find a trail. Roger suggests they go some 100+ yards out of the way and head towards the catfish pond. Philip has resigned himself to having the back of his favorite flannel shirt cut out (lodge tradition when you miss your target), and determined he must have just plain missed Bambi's mother. Not to be, says Roger. Philip never misses.

Catfish pond: Philip is looking all about the woods and forest, ignoring Roger's requests to go TO the pond, not NEAR it. Roger calls out to Philip - Philip is lost in the woods (hahahahaha!!!) - and says, "follow my voice and head TOWARDS THE FUCKING POND!" Philip reaches Roger and PeeWee. PeeWee is barking and growling ferociously (despite her size, I dare say ANYONE would ever appreciate the aftermath of a dispute with her). Roger is laughing. Philip is irritated and in no mood for games. Roger says, "Where do wounded animals go?" Philip says - as irritated and annoyed as ever - "To water. I know that, dammit! You've told me that at least 100 times!" Roger moves aside, leaving Philip an unincumbered view of the pond, then says, "Where's your deer?"

They had to wait for the wind to push Bambi's mother to the other side of the pond, as she began in the direct center of about 15 feet of nasty, murky, cold, snake infested water. Philip found a long stick with a curved branch on the end and tiptoed as near the water he could, without getting his boots wet (Heaven forbid he ruin his boots - his shirt, okay, but not his boots...) and snags her. He was incredibly pissed at that point and dragged her out by the ears. I did have to fuss about that. Despite the fact that she was long-dead with no feeling, this was a majestic creature who will serve our family in fine style by feeding us through the slow months. I was also a little pissed that he made such a lousy shot that Bambi's mother, most likely, drowned to death, rather than a quick and nearly painless death after a finely planted rifle shot. I think he felt a bit bad, after I put it that way.
__________________________________________________________

Onto the popularity story. A friend recently asked me if I was one of the popular ones, then and now. No, I can assure my friend that I was not, am not, never have been.

I was popular within my small circles, but only because I was usually the most outgoing of the bunch. In many ways - some not so peachy-clean. I can now say, without hesitation, the only reason I was so outgoing was because I was so incredibly and painfully shy, making a spectacle of myself assured me that no one would ever have to know the real me.

I no longer think like that. I also don't worry so much if I'm popular, persay; I just like being accepted. If I feel out of place within a group, I find someone else who seems equally reticent, and start a new conversation. If that fails, I sit with the main group; laugh on cue; groan when appropriate; roll my eyes at stupid jokes; daydream about more fun times; let Philip know in our own secret body language that I'm ready to leave whenever he is. Sometimes I'll yawn on purpose. Other times I'll prompt Philip to tell one of his funny experiences, that may be a favorite of mine.

To my friend, though: I don't think you ever have to worry about being "popular". You are spectacular and admired by most who know you. Admiration and popularity may not necessarily be synonyms, but in the grown-up-world, it still feels the same :)

Current Read

2007-11-12T14:53:00.000-05:00

Portrait of a Killer: Jack the Ripper Case Closed by Patricia Cornwell (had I looked a bit longer, I could have found better sites, but...deal)

Many of you know that I'm all into morbid. I was watching a program, the other night, all about Jack the Ripper. The more I watched, the more astounded I became that I'd never studied up on ol' Jack. So, morbid fascination took me to the bookstore - well, that and Big A and the promise of a truly fantastic iced mocha from Joe Mugs, located inside Books A Million. I stopped a clerk, asking about locating something fun on ol' Jack, as BAM likes to play with one's head and organize their books by author's last name - even in the non-fiction sections - with no hint towards actual story content. Said clerk - he was about 6'6"; 300 lbs.; a bit slow, but very sincere; incredibly unhappy with his job; ready to pounce on the 8-ish yr olds left to wander and pillage by some mother who doesn't give a damn (I scared them off for him...despite what you may have heard, I can be rather mean to children when it's called for) - groaned slightly and began helping me search. Then, he had an "AHA!" moment and handed me a very large, very thick, very expensive hardback on all serial killers: real and imagined. Not exactly what I was looking for, but I thanked him and carried the book around for a bit, until I was sure he wouldn't notice that I was putting it back.

I poked around in the non-fiction section (I MUST suggest they break their non-fiction down, at least by subject!) a bit more, then defeatedly left to see if there was a Cornwell novel I'd NOT read yet. Well, there was(is), but it's still in hardback and I'm not wealthy...so, head hanging low, I trapsed toward the coffee shop in the back. Some unknown force tugged at me, leading me toward the non-fiction, again and (I swear to you, I am NOT lying!) a book lay in the floor. It had, apparantly, fallen out as I was putting back the other one. I nearly pissed myself. Not only was it non-fiction all about Jack The Ripper, but it was written by Patricia Cornwell! It was even paperback and only $7.95! And I'm a member so I got a 20% discount that day! I get excited over the silliest things, sometimes.

This book is riveting. While Cornwell is incredibly technical in all her writing, and much of her prose goes beyond my limited scope of "big words" (I keep a dictionary nearby, sometimes), the information, itself, is worth it. Not to mention, it expands my meager vocabulary.

When I'm done, I'm sure I will completely believe that it was not Whistler; it was not the barber; it was definately not James Maybrick (who was so addicted to arsenic, he consumed well beyond a lethal dose every single day until his death - of arsenic poisoning; for which his wife was wrongly convicted and imprisoned);could not have been Dr. Gull, the Duke of Clarence, the queen Mother or anyone involved in that lot. The most likely and culpable suspect, was indeed, Walter Sickert; an odd, but greatly fanatasized artist. His artwork (I, now, have a NEW fascination!) is quite morbid, when scrutinized closely, but oftentimes lovely, when viewed from a proper distance.

I'll probably buy the big book on all serial killers, at some point, but for now, I'm quite satisfied with Patricia Cornwell's thoughts and theories.

'tis the season

2007-11-06T13:42:00.000-05:00

Bow season has passed (yes, you can still shoot a bow during the entire season, but for a short period, bows only are allowed); muzzle-loader (black powder) season has had the windows rattling for a few days; the dogs bark and bark and bark and bark; Philip is in a foul mood for many reasons, but still has that little-boy gleam in his eye.

Gun season begins this coming Saturday.

He has purchased a new scope. We have teased him, mercilessly, about adding a new scar to his forehead (remind me to tell you that story, sometime). Roger has helped him sight it in. It is precisely 1&1/2" high and slightly to the left. Just the way he likes it.

He has had me rummaging the entire house for every single thing that remotely resembles camoflauge, in hopes of finding his missing bibs. I can't find them. He has me rummage the girls' rooms. I find no camo, but lots of tobacco products and paraphernalia. I don't tell him that. No use, really. (any of you who began smoking as a teen can attest to that fact)

He, all of a sudden, claims he is "broke". That's funny. I saw him on the net, credit card in hand, perusing any and all camoflauge-related apparel. I'm expecting UPS in a few days.

Guns are cleaned. The smell of oil, pungent in the air. Scent-cover items are askew all through the house. I actually love that smell. That smell means he is happy. I love his smile lines and anything that provokes them always entices me. Well, except for the two other "smell-agents" that he finally digs out from behind the gun cabinet: small tins of stuff to spread on your boots and lower part of your pants - in the scent of "dirt" - and then the infamous doe urine. I'm not sure how, but he actually managed to attain real doe urine. Not the synthetic stuff you can buy for a couple o' bucks a bottle. I sincerely hope the bottles don't leak or spill. Or get opened inside the house. My nose tends to stay crinkled up for days after smelling it. It's almost a nostril-paralysis-inducing scent.

I'm sent to look for anything that "wicks". I specifically remember purchasing him a lovely set of double-layer, wicking, silk long johns, a few years ago. I can't find them. They were NOT cheap. I do manage to find 2 pairs of wool socks and one pair of his favorite wicking socks. He grins in glee. I'm told to find the nearest shop that sells "Gold Toe" socks. They carry the best wicking socks with the greatest price to prove it. I have never paid $19.95 for ONE pair of socks in my life. I refuse to indulge him, there.

The lint screen in the dryer must be cleaned or replaced. We must wash at least 2 loads of clothes, without fabric softener (and preferably without detergent - but he's just being ridiculous at that point), before we can wash his old attire. Once the new attire comes in, he'll was them somewhere else. Heaven forbid a scent that doesn't belong may linger through the forest.

Let's go backwards about a week or two:

It's midnight. The cats are still outside. It's a cool night and they've never stayed outside all night long when it's that cool. I'm in my customary long t-shirt and skivvies, on the front porch, calling "here kitty kitty", over and over and over and...
I hear the sound of a baby crying. It's actually very close. How odd. OH HOLY SHIT! Something about the size of my largest dog, with very similar coloring (a beautiful light-golden-tan) and a long, wavering tail begins to trapse through the front yard/woods. Mountain lions/cougars/pumas - whichever you choose to call them - sound like babies crying when they're claiming territory.

Another night, not so long after, it's midnight and the cats are out, again. I'm in my customary t and skivs, shivering on the front porch, as the temp has dropped into the 40's (42°F = 6°C), calling for the cats and hoping it's MY cats who come, not the monster from the other evening. I hear a noise too loud to be my small kitties and get ready to dart into the house, when I see something so magical and glorious, I become hypnotized. It's a rack as big as Rhode Island. Okay, okay...it's a very large 6-pointed rack that is incredibly symetrical and thick and curved "just so". Despite my own disdain for shooting animals, I believe, had I had a gun within near reach, I would have taken this beautiful beast down, myself. I don't have time to even run in and wake Philip, as the kitties come running and meowing to be let in - just in time to send Mister Beauti-Buck running for thicker cover.

We have millions of acorns scattered throughout our back and front yards. There are nearly as many black walnuts (I fucking hate those things, because they roll as soon as you step on them, sending feet every-which-a-way). Deer love acorns. I have taken to standing on the front or back porch, most evenings, near midnight (but in real clothing, now), to watch for the deer. I've seen many. They like our yard. They're no longer afraid of the dogs. I haven't seen Mr. Beauti-Buck, again, though.

I believe Philip will have a very fruitful season. I also believe I'll see more of those smile lines. Life is beautiful in the country.

I got fired

2007-11-03T00:20:00.000-04:00

Yep. After visiting their doctor, I failed their drug test. This is actually impossible, as I've abstained because of the damn job. More than one person told me that Wal-Mart tends to find a reason to terminate folks who file workman's comp claims. The manager who did the final paperwork (I'd not met her before that day, but she had "heard all about me") told me flat out that she believed me when I said I was clean (NSAIDs, ibuprofen and a few other OTC meds can actually cause you to test positive for THC - I asked a pharmacist). She said she hated to see me go, but there was nothing that could be done from her level. She said I could fight it and even offered to give me the numbers to the "higher-ups". I told her it wasn't worth it and I really didn't want to work in an environment where one gets punished for doing her job. She laughed and patted me on the shoulder and told me I'd be just fine and wished me well. She knows. They all know.

The other guy did turn in his notice. In one week, the electronics department will officially have 2 full-time employees and 3 part-timers. One of the full-timers is the supervisor; she's looking for another job as we speak. Not because of me, but she was really sweet and said that it just gave her even more reason to want out of there. I think she was just saying that, though...I was a bit upset because of the drug test shit being on my permanent work record. I could fight it, but it would cost me a fortune and even if I were able to prove that I was clean (except for the legal prescriptions that the drug screening co. were aware of - and I shared them ALL and I was using them LEGALLY), it's already filed with the state and getting that changed is like getting Bush to withdraw troops. Fuck 'em all.

update

2007-10-28T03:20:00.000-04:00

The reunion sucked, but we looked great...that's all that matters, right? haha

I only ran into 3 people I was "close" friends with back in the day, so it was awkward, to say the least. I was also in 4" heels and my back is still pretty fucked, so that didn't make it anymore pleasant. The food was nothing to write home about (and at $45/ticket, I expected good food!) and the people were as pretentious as they were 20 years ago. But, I went. I also carried my head high and just blew off those who attempted to be snidely polite. They don't matter.

Wally World sent me to their doc. We're waiting on ex-rays and the ever-so-lovely drug screen results to come back. I should hear something Monday. I did get put on light duty, by order of their doctor. Their idea of light duty? I get to be your friendly, neighborhood door-greeter until I'm released.

I also got written up. It was officially called a "verbal coaching", although it was done on the computer and I was asked to sign a hard copy print. Umm, I was written up because "I violated lifting procedure and did not file a formal complaint within a reasonable amount of time." When my manager asked if I agreed with what he'd written up, I said that I did NOT agree. I reminded him that their policy is "customer satisfaction" and that we have a few fellas who tend to disappear when it looks like some real work needs to be done. I mentioned that it appeared that everyone scattered when they saw customers looking at televisions. Management even pulled the videos from that night and printed out 3 hard copies. I wasn't supposed to see them, apparantly, but I did. All 3 photos clearly show me lifting the television and no one else on the floor anywhere around me. I also refused to sign the "verbal coaching". My manager was shocked, but he was very honest and sincere when he replied that he really didn't blame me because he didn't agree with management's decision to write me up, anyway. After that, he asked me if I'd be interested in applying for the supervisor position in the photo department, which is kind of a spin-off branch of electronics. He "needs someone who is punctual, flexible, dependable and intelligent...". He's lost his fucking mind if he thinks I want a supervisory position...and how can he offer it after he just got done reprimanding me?!

All I have to do is get through Christmas, though. If things don't change at Wally World, I'll go ahead and take the job offer to go back to the tax office in January. I do believe some changes will be made, though. Another Electronics guy (the last one who knows everything about the department) has been offered another job and will be turning in a notice sometime this coming week. I believe that will pretty much seal my manager's fate. With so many employees leaving/terminated, in just his department...well, that should say something about his managerial skills.

Enough. I'm tuckered out and off to bed.
Thanks for all your warm wishes. Oh, and York, if you look closely, you might see a tad bit of cleavage, but the picture's not great, so you'll have to use your imagination ;)

xoxo to all

Days of our Lies

2007-10-22T23:11:00.000-04:00

Soap opera...Rat was definately close on that one! So far in the last few days:

I hurt my back at work, but thought nothing of it, as we all get little muscle pulls from time to time and just keep on working around it...that whole, "if I keep working, but don't stretch that side too much, I'll be just fine in a few days," mentality. I was wrong.

I finally went to the doc and was told I have a sprain in the lower back, over-extended [insert whatever muscle she tried to describe to me], a slight bulging disk which should mend itself in time. I was ordered to strictly bedrest or sitting very still in a comfy chair with a heating pad for 1 week, then "light duty" at work for another week. Work says, "nuh-uh". If I can't meet the minimum requirements under which I was hired, they are not obligated to accept the doctor's orders and my job may be in jeapordy. When I explained that the injury was, indeed, sustained at work, all hell broke loose. I also explained that I completely understood that they were not responsible for this, as I never filed a claim. I'm not sure what changed their minds, but they have set up an appointment for me with "their" doctor. It is also a requirement that a member of management escort me to said appointment. WTF? Whatever. If their doctor agrees that it is a sprain and all that other stuff, I'll get workman's comp for the duration of my absence.

I'm really not terribly afraid, right now, because I just can't imagine them terminating me. Umm, my evaluation was beyond awesome and I got a $.40 raise. Their max is $.60 and I'm told NO ONE has ever gotten the max. I've also been asked to apply for a supervisor's position - which I don't want because I don't want that much responsibility. Of course, Wal-Mart could just decide that I'm gonna be too much of a pain in the ass because of this injury and just let me go. I doubt they'll want to break that many laws, though.

Speaking of breaking labor laws: Alex got her license awhile back, then got a job the following weekend. Alex got fired 2 weeks later. I've never been prouder of her in my entire life. Her boss was a 65 year old woman. "Jackie" (not the boss's real name...) had extreme mood swings and was very inefficient (I witnessed this, myself, on many occassions). On the night in question, business was very heavy and 2 people had called in sick. This left Alex and 2 cooks. Alex was trained on the register, but nothing else. Alex is also not (legally) allowed to cook because of her age. They had to call Jackie to come in and help out during the rush. When Jackie came in, she began yelling at everyone. Several customers just left. One customer (I know him, personally) asked for Jackie's supervisor's name. Jackie wouldn't tell him, but I can - it's listed on Alex's paystubs. During all the hulluballu, one of the cooks quit. There was a nasty exchange between everyone and Alex got upset so she went over into the store part (it's a store and grill combo) and smoked a cigarette. Yeah, yeah, we're not supposed to know about that, but of course we really did know. That evening's store cashier filled me in on some of what Alex did NOT tell me. Jackie came into the store and began cursing Alex and told her to "get your cracker ass back into this grill! I'm not paying you to talk shit about me and I won't tolerate it! I know you all come in here and talk shit about me, so why should I think any different about you?!" Alex looked at Jackie and said (Caroline and Dave will be able to imagine this expression and tone of voice), "Woman, have you lost your ever-lovin' mind?" Jackie began to berate Alex in front of customers in the store AND in the grill. Alex finally told her to fuck off. A few more words were exchanged and Jackie told Alex she had to leave the premises immediately and she could NOT go back behind the counter to retrieve her personal belongings. She also told Alex that she would NOT get paid for that night's work. Alex told Jackie that she was "a very disturbed woman and in desparate need of some form of medication...", then defied Jackie and retrieved her purse and her jacket and walked out.

It's about a 3 minute drive (Caroline and Dave, remember 3 Points?) from their to our house, so I can only assume that Jackie called us just as soon as Alex left the parking lot. Jackie wanted Philip to come up to the grill so that he could hear "her side" of the story before relying on Alex's version, since, of course, "Alex is only 16 and still has a skewed sense of responsibility and will, most likely, turn a negative spin onto any situation that doesn't go her way. Oh, and by the way, did you know that Alex has been smoking at work?" Does that sound like the words of a competent and mature 65 year old woman?! Ironically, Jackie was one of the people who'd been buying cigarettes for Alex. I fully support Alex's decision to put "Jackie" in her place. The language could have been a little less... umm...creative, but still. I'm sure I'd have said much worse.

Jackie has recently told people at the store that Alex is banned from the store. Jackie does NOT want to fuck with us. She hired Alex without a worker's permit, without a W-4 or I-9 (but was still taking taxes out), was working Alex past 9pm and was requiring Alex to help cook when necessary. Wonder how many pages are left in the dep't of labor handbook that Jackie did NOT violate.

My reunion is this coming weekend. I'm all set except for finding myself a "cocktail dress" for the formal event. I've lost a little more weight, so my "fall-back" skirt & blouse are out. I'm actually going to have to BUY a DRESS. I hate dresses. I'm also not thrilled about cocktail attire. I have fat legs (for real), so don't like to show them - even tea length doesn't flatter me well. I also have flabby upper arms (I'm not talking Great-great Aunt Mildred's turkey flesh, but still a little wobbly), so sleeveless is out. I'll just have to make sure to get something with a deep v-neck so I can at least show off my one good assett. hahaha

Enough for now. Hope you all are well.
xoxo

just stuff

2007-10-09T02:34:00.000-04:00

So, here I am again. After a long hiatus. It's nearly 2am and I'm nowhere near exhausted, although, my grammar and spelling and such may tell a different story. What's up, lately?

My job...things are getting turned upside down and it's very discomforting. There is a "rumor" (I was told by another store manager) that 2 assitant managers and one store co-manager will be leaving, soon. I don't thing they're being fired, just transferred or offered a "retirement" package. No one knows which managers are on the chopping block, but we all have our opinions. My department's asst' manager is a good candidate, as our department isn't running very smoothly. That, my friends, comes from allowing useless employees to stay on, while discharging employees who know so much about everything in the department...long story, there. Suffice it to say, my favorite co-worker got fired today because he was overheard saying "[particular asst' manager] is a bastard, sometimes!" I believe my department's mgr has wanted a reason to fire D for quite some time. D is incredibly intelligent and knowledgable about every aspect of the electronics department, but he's also young and sometimes cocky. His cockiness, however, has never affected our customer loyalty, satisfaction and day-to-day tasks. He's also worked his ass off for very little recognition, is rarely absent, drives over an hour to work, each day, after attending university classes, daily. It's just bullshit.

We have another employee in the department whom I call my shadow. He is a kind enough person, but he doesn't do anything. Seriously, he walks the floor, often ignoring customers or harrassing others. He constantly leaves the department and wanders around the store...we have no idea where he goes or what he's doing when this occurs. I've been very patient and haven't asked anything of my manager (other than the days off for my h.s. reunion), since I started. Today, I TOLD my manager that I won't close with my shadow any longer. When asked why, I brought K (asst' mgr) the list of tasks for today; I showed each task that had been highlighted and initialed (by whomever completed said task); I pointed out that Shadow had not done anything at all on the list, but had worked the exact same hours I had; noted that I, personally, had accomplished 1/3 of the list but that Shadow flat refused to do any of the tasks because he didn't feel he should have to do any of them for some reason or another. Shadow always had an excuse. I believe my words were something to the tune of: "K, I can't and won't close with [Shadow], again. I'm busting my ass trying to finish this list and he keeps disappearing. I'm also the ONLY one who has answered the phone or assisted a customer in over an hour." Saying "ass" to K is akin to saying go to Hell in church, as K is very conservative. He said he would do something about the problem. He's been saying those same words about the exact same employee for the last 3 weeks - every single person in our department has complained about Shadow not working. I'll believe it when I see it.

I have a feeling that I may be on the chopping block, myself. There's been a rash of firings, lately, that seem completely ridiculous. Many of the employees who have been fired were hard-working, well trained, intelligent and knowledgable. While I'm none of the above (except for the hard-working - and I defy a soul to say otherwise...there are video tapes that can prove that), I'm also the newest member of the department. If management decides to cut our department, I will be the most likely candidate. Unless, of course, K finally decides to do something about Shadow. I'm not even sure I'd be upset if I were to be let go.

If I can keep it together until after Christmas, I have a standing offer to go back to the tax office. My boss from that job (last tax season), called me today and asked me to commit to the next season. When I mentioned that I would be taking a substantial cut in pay to come back, she said she already had word from District that I would get a raise. How much, I'm not sure. But, even if I take the job, it will only last through April, again, then I'll be jobless all over again. I just don't know what to do. I desparately want to go back to the tax office, but I can't stand the thought of the instability and what it will look like on my work record for future job-hunting. I'm so fucking sick and tired of working in non-challenging positions...there's much more to it than that, though.

If you've made it this far, let's go a little bit more. Big A has her license and a JOB! She hates her job and her manager is a bitch (she really is difficult), but Big A likes the idea of a paycheck and getting out of the house for a few hours here and there. Big A is also still with/back together with/whatever... with Thing. I don't even attempt to be polite out of respect for Big A, any longer. If Thing visits here, I go about my business and openly ignore him. If he tries to start a conversation, I reply in one word answers or just simply roll my eyes at him. He was here, Saturday (Philip gave permission), and asked me flat out if I disliked him. I said that I definately do not care for him, but that Big A must make her own decisions in whom she cares to date (within reason). He tried to start an argument with me, at which point I told him that he needed to either shut the fuck up and leave me be or just to leave. In just that manner. He's so stupid that he decided to stay and continue to try to engage me in conversation. I finally looked him in the eye and told him I was going to my room for some peace and quiet and that he better behave and mind his p's and q's or I'd kick his ass. The stupid boy thought I was joking. He's no longer a minor so simple assault is the only thing he could hold over me if I lose it and actually strike him. You have no idea how much I'd like to do that. But, I don't particularly want to go to jail, so I'm keeping my cool.

Little A is doing pretty well in school and has just slipped quietly and smoothly into her first year of high school. She has yet (*knock wood*) to have any disagreements with anyone - except a teacher who threatened to suspend her because she hugged her girlfriend (yes, a real girlfriend), at which point, a number of students reminded said teacher that if she were going to suspend one couple for public display of affection, she had to suspend EVERY student who also broke the rule. She is hanging out with a pretty good group of sophomores and juniors and seems genuinely happy. Oh, and she's also grown leaps and bounds and is now 5'7". I have to look up at her, now. It's rather humorous.

Enough...I need to go to bed so I can get up by 9-ish in the morning. I hope you are all well. York, my condolences to you and your family. My thoughts are with you. Lady K, happy birthday in another week (isn't that right?). Nonny, get your ass back online - if you aren't already (I've missed much, lately). Alkelda, give your little one a hug for me and have her give you one from me, as well. All of you - please take care and stay safe.

xoxo

Music, cars, licenses and more birthdays

2007-09-18T11:49:00.000-04:00

I think I listen to my kids' music too much. Or, at the very least, Little A's. She says I've gone "all emo and crap". Okay, I sort of understand the term, but for real, wtf is "emo" supposed to really mean? I did the whole hair metal thing in the 80's and the grunge thing in the 90's. I've always thrown in some great heavy metal within the mix. But tell me, are the following (current obsessions) songs considered "emo"?

Paralyzer by Finger Eleven
All Around Me by Flyleaf
Fully Alive by Flyleaf (actually, I haven't heard a song by them I don't like)
Misery Business by Paramore
Face Down by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

I liked those songs so much, I actually bought the individual tracks (Walmart.com sells individual WMAs for $.88 each, folks...just sayin'), legally! Speaking of legal downloads; I decided to try the Napster free trial. Don't let them scam you. Sure, the free trial really is free. But, with a membership (regular is $9.95/mo, "on the go" is $14.95/mo), you can't burn any tracks to a CD. With "on the go", you can download songs to your MP3 player - IF it's a Napster approved/compatible player; which, of course, they'll sell you if your player isn't compatible - but you can't do anything else with the songs. Unless you purchase them. Huh? I thought the whole purpose of paying a membership to one of these music club thingies was to be able to download AND USE the music legally. Napster is a bit sly with that. I'm not gonna pay $10 a month to just listen to music on my computer. I have XM radio stations on sattelite tv, then there's always the radio. The only thing I don't like about the Wal-Mart downloads: all the songs are the "clean" or "edited" versions. Aside from that, there's no fee except the $.88 per track. You get full rights to burn as many copies as you want or download to whatever MP3 player you have. I think you can even use your Ipod - which Napster is not compatible with.

I'm about to call the insurance company. We're ready to add the Buick and go get the necessary paperwork so Big A can get her license. She can officially try for it on Philip's 40th b-day - 9/28. She turned 16 on the 2nd, but in NC, you have to have your permit a full 12 months before your license and she had to wait a few weeks before getting her permit because of the school's tardiness in getting the kids' paperwork finished.

I REALLY hope she gets her license first go-round. I'm told I'm a bitch because I don't get why some kids don't get their license on the first try. I got mine. I aced the tests. And I wasn't one to ace anything much, back then. I tease kids who don't get their license on the first try. I know, I know, folks get nervous and all that shit...maybe I am a bitch about that. If you didn't get your license on the first try, please don't hate me. I think that was one of those things I was just totally anal about. Big A needs to get her license first go-round, cuz that's the only weekday I have off for 2 weeks.

Little A will be 14 on FRIDAY! I can't believe it. I have to work on her birthday, too. That really sucks. I think what sucks even more, she's spending Saturday with her new girlfriend. Yeah, I said "girlfriend"...that kind of girlfriend. Her girlfriend is actually one of Big A's best friends. Talk about weird for Big A! Little A's best friend of 3 years is getting a bit peeved, too. I'm not sure how it happened, but Little A has been welcomed into Big A's clique with open arms. It wasn't even a "be nice to my little sister because she's a freshman and scared" sorta thing. Little A just hung out with them for the first couple of days of school (because she's a freshman and scared and all that shit) and they started inviting her to everything from then on. Now, Little A is brushing her best friend off, from time to time, so she can hang with the cooler kids. Man, I had forgotten how much you change your freshman year of high school.

Philip is almost 40. He says he's going to quit smoking on his birthday (maybe the day after...festivities and all that, ya know?). I told him if he'd quit, I'd go outside to smoke from now on. No, I'm not quitting. I don't want to. Sorry, Lungs, but you're just gonna have to deal for awhile longer. At least having to go outside to smoke will help me cut down some more. Did I mention that I'm down to about a pack a day? Give or take a couple here and there. I'm proud of that.

Big A has broken up and gotten back together with Thing several times in the last few weeks. I can't even tolerate him, anymore. I refuse to talk to him if he calls. I've made it very obvious to Big A and Thing that I'm not pleased with the relationship and that Thing needs to grow the fuck up and get a job and grow a set of balls where his controlling (and way-fucked-up) parents are concerned. He's asked to speak with me (on the phone) a few times and I've refused. I'd rather be rude by not obliging the chat than be a total, evil, hateful bitch by chewing him a new asshole. He really doesn't want to know what I have to say. Trust me. When he calls, now, (still at least 10 times a day) I encourage Big A to take the conversation to another room. Or I leave the room. My disgust for this boy has grown into pure hatred. I've tried - OH have I tried - to find something to like about Thing, but I just can't. He's immature, manipulative, needy, whiney, self-centered, know-it-all, conceited...I could go on, but I won't. The new school year is young; Big A will eventually find a new boy to go gaga over. Perhaps I'll like a new guy better. A mother can hope.

Oh, I'm in trouble a little at work, right now. I have the flu (head, chest AND stomach...ewwww), but my boss is NOT happy with me staying home. I called my doc's office and they just said it's going around and there's not much they can do. I'm welcome to come in for a script of amox or the likes, but most folks are just getting over it on their own. Tomorrow, no matter what, I'll just have to grin and bear it. I had to leave yesterday after nearly fainting. I called in today and my boss was uncommonly gruff. Usually, he likes me a lot. I'm a workaholic and perfectionist when it comes to tasks he assigns to me - and I never complain about anything he asks me to do. I won't. I'm getting paid to do whatever needs to be done and even the ickiest chores aren't awful. I think the most unpleasant chore, so far, was having to clean all the tv screens and dust all the shelves. I'm allergic to cleaners and dust, but I keep allergy medicine (by the tubfull) on hand at all times and go wash my hands repeatedly. The chores that most of the other employees hate, I actually kind of like them. I know, I know, I'm a little weird. But they absolutely hate having to straighten and organize the dozens of shelves and make sure all the prices are correct. I'm a bit obsessive about that. The price markers should be clearly marked and in the right spot. So...guess who usually gets that job? hahaha

I'm off to attempt to hold down a cup of coffee and maybe a piece of dry toast. Wish me luck.

Home Impressions

2007-09-10T13:24:00.000-04:00

Guess what? I have another job. No, I didn't quit Wal-Mart, nor do I plan to. I'm just taking a second part-time job. Not even for the money; although, the extra won't hurt my feelings at all.

There used to be this little quirky shop in the mall called Home Impressions. Our local mall outpriced itself and ran out a lot of the cooler shops, though. Also, "old money" got too involved and made sure to banish some of what they called the "seedier" shops, in every venue they could. We had a Spencer's, but Heaven forbid any child ever make his way to the back where they have funny novelties and such. Talk was, a glass shop was coming in. The glass shop featured hand-blown pieces, knick-knacks, paper weights, etc. But, there was the off chance that they may have some glass smoking pipes (yeah, head shop type pipes). So, "old money" shut them down before they even managed to get a foot in the door.

Home Impressions annoyed "old money" because they sell hedonistic items such as incense burners, hand-carved dragons, imported daggers

and swords, body jewelry

and glass pipes

and hookahs . While some folks may very well use the pipes and such for something other than tobacco products, it's still not illegal to purchase them for TOBACCO use, as long as you are over 18. They card. Honestly. I've seen them card people who even appear to be older than me. No, I haven't purchased any of the tobacco paraphenalia.

Back to the point of the post. Das, the owner (he's Pakistani), has moved his shop to a local outlet mall. Big A and I were searching for it and found it, the other day. I asked Das why he didn't have an outside banner up, yet. The sign companies he's probed are asking $800 and up for a 3'X10' vinyl banner. I just threw out the idea that I might could do his banner if he provided the materials. His eyes grew large and he asked if I'm an artist. Ummm, well, yeah. Just not considered professional. We determined that I'm not really able to make the kind of banner he needs, but he wants me to come help him set up his new shop, arrange flowers and such in some of his middle-eastern urns and pots and so on and so forth. I believe I heard harps and an angelic choir.

I "interview" tomorrow morning. I have no idea how he'll want to pay or what he'll want to pay. But, it will be to his delight that I'll work cheap as hell (within reason), just to get my hands on some of his lovelier pieces. My plan of action is to just offer to work for $7/hour if he'll let me loose in his store and allow me to organize it in sections, by type/age/authenticity, etc. I'd also like to showcase some of my own art and offer him a percentage, if he's up for it. I may be reaching for the moon, depending on what he wants, but it's worth offering. This job would be like playtime for me!

When I asked Philip what he thought about me working a second job, he made an awkward face. At first, he asked how I planned to work out hours so that I could be home more. When I told him that I planned to tell my boss at Wal-Mart that I'd prefer to work 25 hours/week in order to continue with tax classes (long story there, I'll explain at a later time) AND take a second job, Philip groaned and said he was afraid I'd get fired from Wal-Mart. I kind of doubt that, since they've decided to hire more folks in Electronics and work most of us part-time (even the 5 hour days are really hard on the feet and back, I can assure you). I'm thinking there won't be too much trouble as long as I agree to work my Wal-Mart schedule first, then work with my second employer around the Wal-Mart schedule. I really don't see that being a problem. I'm hoping, anyway. Das will just have to understand that Wal-Mart is stable (it's not like they're gonna go out of business anytime soon...) and pays a lot better than most places around here. I'm also willing to work off-hours at Home Impressions, before opening hours and after closing hours, if necessary. We'll see.

So, you see what I've been up to, lately. I'm about to run for a quick shower, then a cup o' joe at the closest coffee shop before my 7 hour shift, tonight. Oh, and by the way, I kinda like my job. Not all of it, of course, but for the most part, the money makes it all worthwhile and I work with a pretty cool group of folks. Plus, I get to see Roger (friend from lodge...) at least twice a week, since he started there, too.

work, life, kids, birthdays, cars

2007-08-30T01:30:00.000-04:00

Work is gonna be great, I think. I'm still doing the "new hire learning modules" - aka: hell on a computer. It's not really that bad, it's just that there are like 45 modules to do. I've completed 34 of them and have to finish the rest this evening on my 5-10 shift. I really like the varying shifts, too, which surprises me.

The modules - interesting but some are frustrating. I was so pissed at only making an 80 (passing) on 2 of them, I asked if I could re-take them. No, but the personell coordinater laughed at me. She couldn't believe I'd made a 100 on all the rest, except for 3 - 2 of which I made a 97, one of which I failed and had to re-take. The one I failed? Proper use of the cardboard bailer and trash compactor, plus emergency machinery shut-down proceedures. PFFFT! Like someone thinks it's wise to allow me to use dangerous equipment. PLEASE! That's like handing a teething baby a splintery stick; someone's GONNA get hurt! Three of the others I didn't even go all the way through, I just went straight to the test and aced all three. They were; EEOC (equal opportunity employment stuff), ADA (Americans with disabilities act) and Ethics, acceptance and tolerance in the workplace. I know those well, as I used to have to hire & fire at random and all that jazz. I'm still pissed about the low grades on the others, though.

There's one poor woman who was hired for the bakery. She's about 60, has NEVER used a computer before, has worked for Hardee's and Biscuitville for more than 25 years baking biscuits. That's it. She never flipped burgers or ran a cash register; she's a master biscuit maker. So why in the hell should she have to take these tests?! She's having a terrible time with the profit and loss module (one of the ones I made an 80 on - and I've done bookkeeping/accounting for YEARS!) and still doesn't even know how to backspace. I feel so bad for her. I wish they'd let someone coach her a little, just on computer basics and understanding certain questions. She's gonna make biscuits and cakes for cryin' out loud! She has no desire to run reports and handle mass ordering. My mom says I'm a sucker for the underdog and I should stay out of it. Like I'm really gonna sit by and watch this woman lose the opportunity for better pay and better hours just because she doesn't understand a computer! I think I'll go talk with someone in the office and ask if they can assign her a coach/tutor/something.

The kids are liking school. Big A is freaking out over Advanced Functions (it's the stuff that goes beyond Algebra and Trig). She asked me to just LOOK at a problem, last night (2nd day of school and she had 2 hours of homework). I think it's heiroglyphics. Maybe it's alien symbols. I just shook my head and got out the $400 books we purchased (thank GOD!) and pointed her in the right direction. It took her 20 minutes to do ONE problem. The solution took 1/2 a notebook page. I shit you not.

Little A got her hair cut. The stylist didn't listen to her request and cut Little A's hair up to her shoulders. She took off about 10 - 12 inches, but in a way that it wasn't acceptable to donate. That part pissed me off. Do you have any idea how much Locks of Love needs longer hair? Little A was beyond distressed, but is starting to get used to the shorter look. Personally, I think it's gorgeous. Except it makes her look 21, instead of almost 14. She has literally been mistaken for a senior (she's a freshman) several times. Once was even by one of her teachers. But, she likes school. That's amazing in and of itself.

Oh, Big A and Thing are arguing a LOT, lately. Jake, the boyfriend from the past whom Philip and I loved to pieces is hanging around some, now. He's bringing the girls home from school Friday afternoon and will be at Big A's birthday party this Saturday. Thing can't stand it. Big A has set her foot down and told him that she and Jake are just friends (at the moment, that's true) and that he (Thing) needs to get over himself because "[he's] not the alpha and omega and never will be." You go girl!

We get to keep both cars we were gonna sell. Philip gets his Buick, I get my Camero. The Camero should be finished by early October, so Big A and I will only have to share a car for a few weeks. She's not eligible for her license until September 28th (Philip's birthday, of all days), because you're required to have 12 full months on your permit before getting your license in North Carolina.

My mom's mother - my only living grandmother - has breast cancer. Technically, it should be "had", as the mass was completely removed and there is no evidence of cells in the lymph system. But, she has to decide whether or not to take radiation treatments. Her doc said she HAS to do the radiation, in order to prevent (hopefully) the cancer to come back. The type they've recommended is a fairly simple procedure, but it still can tamper with her immune system. Not good. G/M is 83 and not in good health to begin with. Reducing her white cells at any level is very risky. She's seeing her cardiologist (who is pretty much her family doctor, now, since she likes him so much) tomorrow, to discuss this. She asked me what I thought she should do. I have no idea. With the radiation, they're pretty much guaranteeing no reoccurance of the cancer for at least 5 years, but what about what it will do to the rest of her body? Without the radiation, they don't know if it'll come back or not. If she were 65 or maybe even 70, the radiation would be acceptable, but at 83? I'm glad she's seeing her other doc.

Oh, one last thing...Roger - the friend/almost family member - starts orientation at the same Wal-Mart, tomorrow. Wonder how much work we'll get done if we're ever working the same shift? hahaha

xoxo to you all

Pudding started it

2007-08-22T22:59:00.000-04:00

Yorkshire Pudding has a cute thing up on his blog. I thought it would be a good way for me to say something...

SOMETHING!!!

Okay, that was that.

1. Despite the rumors, I am not dead; I have not fallen off the face of the earth; I still care tremendously about you all; I am not completely self-absorbed...

2. Nonny has me addicted to sodoku puzzles, now.

3. Because of fact #2, I dream of numbers, quite frequently. For some reason, I always dream of sevens, threes and nines. A friend told me I should play those numbers on the next lotto.

4. Watermelons attract butterflies. Next time you see watermelons on sale, or if you have some starting to rot in your garden, cut it in half and set it a few yards from your favorite window. You will have more butterflies than you've ever noticed before. Also good to know, watermelons do NOT stink when rotting. Thank God.

5. Watermelons also attract bees, wasps, ants and other similar buggies; thus placing said watermelon YARDS from the window...no need to attract ants to the house.

6. The current water tempuratures at Atlantic Beach, NC are 87° (31°C).

7. We are expecting triple digit air temps, here in central NC, for at least the next 5-7 days (that would be high 30's/low40's to you centigrade lovers out there). We have been breaking historical temperature records left and right, so far this summer.

8. The rain in Spain does fall, mostly, on the plain. Or so my father tells me. Of course, he had me convinced (until I was grown and my husband told me otherwise) that mountain goats, sheep and cows have 2 legs shorter than the other. It's not funny! Stop laughing at me! damn I'm gullible

9. The combined cost of the 2 (out of 4) scheduled events that I will attend for my 20th h.s. reunion is $145. That is only TWO events, one only includes Philip and myself!

10. Copperheads are very beautiful snakes. At a distance. But, I prefer to watch them on the Discovery channel, thankyouverymuch!

In the new(s)

2007-08-14T00:52:00.000-04:00

First off, to all my fabulous blogbuds, thanks for all your well-wishes!

Rat, the boyfriend sounds like a wonderful start for snappage!

Crabby, how'd the contest go?

Alkelda, I remember the flushing days. Don't remember how we solved the problem, just remember it had something to do with cats. We had tons of them, then. Maybe they were...ah, heck, I can't remember. I just remember telling the girls they HAD to flush or the cats would...whatever. It'll come to her in time, I promise :)

Corky, Max will continue to rule your life for the rest of your days. Enjoy each and every minute of it!

Amichai, glad to see you back! I've missed you.

Nonny, yeah, the depression sucks. But, the great thing about being bipolar: I get to swing back UP...WAY UP...in just a few days. hahahahaha

Pissy, I go back and forth between "I can't WAIT until they're on their own" to "OH MY GOD! They'll be leaving home in just a few short years. What will I do, then?!" I'm feeling it.

Lady K, I'm glad the surgery's over and you're resting at the 'rents. I'm glad you connected! If you ever feel you've missed out on something (children-wise), borrow all of ours - start with Corky's boy to get used to an infant; then borrow Alkelda's lovely little one to share in the wonders of BIG discoveries in late toddlerhood/early childhood; then borrow Nonny's yungin...yall would NEVER leave the video games!; then borrow my teenagers. That's all it'll take. I promise. Do it all in the matter of a month, then imagine those of us who are/will/have done it during a course of years and years...you'll be thankful most days! hahaha

Onto the latest...
We just got back from the beach. It was fabulous! Little A and I wanted to stay soooo bad, we almost had a plan on how to make it work. I kid you not, we were going to stay behind and ask my dad to come down and drive us around for a few days. But, I didn't have a choice - I had to be back by 9am today (we got in about 8pm, last night) for a
...........drumroll, please..............
job interview.
It was at the same Wal-Mart where I turned down the other position. Last night, I started tearing up because I just KNEW I didn't want to work at Wal-Mart, but also knew I HAD TO find a job. This morning, I tucked my tail between my legs and marched into Wally World with all hopes of not getting hired. Guess what...
I'm hired. The job actually sounds possibly exciting (in the electronics dep't), or at the very least, not boring. It pays a WHOLE LOT more than their previous offer and I've worked it out so I can have Saturdays off while I take tax classes. Every Saturday from like 9/10 - 12/10 or something like that. I'm still tossing that one around. I *want* to take the classes, but the Saturday thing sucks donkey shit. I dunno...I have a week or so to make up my mind.

So, anyway, that's all I can think of for now. Like this wasn't enough! Remind me to tell you about washing windows, replacing shower doors, what haircolor does to fiberglass...at some other time. HAH!

*blows Dating Game type kisses*

Mothers

2007-07-31T13:30:00.000-04:00

My mom just called with one of those humongus (how the hell do you spell that?! humongus, humongous, humungous...?) guilt trips that makes you feel like the worst kid in the world. I finally told her that I've been avoiding everyone and everything since the quitting incident. Her words (however true they may be, the timing sucked), "Ammmmyyyyy, you've got to get over it and move on. That's just steewwwpppidddd for you to keep obsessing over this." Umm, HELLO! What word did she use? Yeah, the stupid word. Do you think that helped at all? *sigh*

I have been sleeping less - like 10 hours instead of 14. That's the beginning of a bounce-back. I have been working on 2 important projects that I will have finished by the end of this week, if I have all the supplies I need (mental note: check that). I have been trying to spend more time with the girls. Oh, and I've started back with some decent progress on the housework and have actually cooked a meal, twice. So, there's the start of anew.

Big A just came in and asked if we could take her and her boyfriend to the beach for a weekend. As ONE of the dozen other things she's asked for for her birthday. I said no. She persisted. I said it wasn't so much that I didn't trust her, but that I absolutely do not trust him. She says I'm not being fair. WTF?! I'M not being fair?! She and he broke the fucking rules, already! Who's to say they won't try something while we're in a whole different city? 200 miles away?! So, now I feel like a shitty mom - even though we all know that's not true. Yeah, I at least know that much.

Good God! I'm taking the girls swimming at a friend's tomorrow, then to a cookout tomorrow night. We're going to my cousin's this coming weekend - the cousin who has begun to annoy me to no end, but the girls love him and his wife - and then (most likely) to the beach next weekend. Despite them being grounded as hell for all their shenanigins, I allowed them each 30 minutes on the computer so they could keep some of their accounts active and so they could update their friends (via myspace) on when they could have phone calls and such, again. Today, they both want computer privelages back. Would someone just fucking shoot me, please?

I'm reminded of an old Jerry Clower skit (look him up, he's hilarious! and clean!):

Jerry and some friends went 'coon hunting (RACCOON) one night. The dogs treed the 'coon. Jerry (or one of his cohorts - can't quite remember) decided to climb the tree because the raccoon wouldn't stick his head out far enough to be shot. When Jerry finally FINDS said raccoon, it's not a 'coon at all, but a bobcat. He screams down to his buddies,
"Somebody shoot!" To which they reply they're afraid they'll shoot HIM. So he says,
"Just shoot up amongst us! One of us has GOT to have some relief!"

You'd have to hear it in his native language (that would be deep south drawl with a twang and some y'all's to boot) to get the full effects. So...someone just shoot up amongst us...HAH!

p.s. I'm having a hard time replying to some blogs. I'm working on it. It has something to do with XP...I'll get the hang of this about time we're forced to upgrade to Vista, I promise. *chuckle*

what I haven't said out loud

2007-07-28T00:46:00.000-04:00

yeah, this is a continuance of the post, below. this is stuff that I haven't said to anyone else. it's pretty personal and a little harcore and reveals a little too much of what fucked up shit is going on in my head, but I NEED to admit these feelings so I can truly work through them. No hand-holding necessary, just an ear (or eyes, or whatever).

The Dillard's thing really got to me. A lot worse than I've let anyone around here know. When they ask why I'm sleeping so much, I blame it on allergies. When the ask why I'm so quiet, I blame it on a sore throat because of allergies. When I come out of my bathroom with a red nose and puffy eyes, I blame it on allergies. Well, you guys can probably guess at the truth, but for some reason, everyone around here just seems oblivious. Honestly, I guess that's what I've been counting on. Everyone is a little irritated with me. For monetary reasons, mostly. Even the kids, because they were promised $20/weekly, each, as allowance since I'd be working 40+ hours at any particular time I was scheduled.

I can't believe I let one little pissant nobody mess with my head so much. I know better than this. I KNOW that I'm not the person she tried to convince me I was. I know that she is just one of those mean-spirited people who enjoys breaking people down so she can "train" them to become drones that she can control. She reminds me of a Marine. No offense to Marines, but if you are one or have ever known one, you really will understand that logic.

This went beyond hurting my feelings. This went beyond embarrassment. She called me stupid for no other reason that to cause drama within the ranks. She mentioned that no one ever saw me because I "hid out in the stockroom". Umm, no, I did not hide out in the bowels of the shoe universe. I was sent back there, by HER, for a very good reason. I was sent to the back because I was good at keeping the chaos organized and the mishaps to a minimum. She told me that, but during a time no one else was around. I'm not tooting my own horn, either. I KNOW I did a good job back there. No one EVER had to ask where a certain shoe was, because I had them organized better than a library's computerized dewey-decimal system. Why did I do that? Well, because that is what I was told to do. Oh, and then there was that little thing about knowing where shit was when it was time to open the doors to the general public.

As I write this, I recognize all the signs of blaming what is probably just a "bad spell" on an induvidual person or event, but it sure as hell didn't help.

So, I sit and deal with this deep depression. I make sure I take my meds faithfully. Just to make sure I don't forget one single dose, I count my pills daily. I've added my psychiatrist to speed- dial, which I didn't even know I knew how to do. I've rejected several invitations to lunches and dinners and not answered the phone unless I just had to. I've avoided my mother. I've been thrilled that Philip is working or playing or whatever it is he does with the "boys", lots of extra hours each day. I sleep as much as possible. 14 hours? Pshaw! That's for pussies! I lost 5 pounds from Friday to Wednesday because of sweating my ass off each day I worked. I've lost 2 more since Wednesday because I haven't eaten much except for...ummm...I had a salmon patty last night and a piece of garlic toast today. I'm sure there was more in there, somewhere, but I can't really recall, right now. Worst of all, I've had all those old screwed-up thoughts seeping to the surface. Those thoughts about how much it would drop Philip's insurance premiums if he could drop me off his insurance policy and what it would save him each month if my prescriptions didn't have to be filled. You know where I'm going with this. Yeah, I know it's fucked up.

No, I'm not really a danger to myself or others. Although, that particular manager could have exploded had I had super-powers (that's just for you, Corky). Actually, I'm surprised nothing's caught fire as my eyes have wobbled and the vein in my forehead has poked out accordingly with the death stare.

I'm not really sure why I'm even *wanting* to sleep so much. I have horrible dreams. Oddly, I seem to relish in some of them. I can't quite explain that one, though.

So, there you have it. I am totally and completely fucked up in the head right now. If you were to ask me what it is I really want right now (a job, that bitch-manager to burn in hell, chocolate, a trip to the beach, anything dealing with the "d" word...), I couldn't even answer you. I want nothing. That's exactly it. I want nothing. No one around, no sounds, sights or smells, not even coffee. I want to feel nothing. Empty. I want to not care about anyone, especially not myself. I don't want to feel sorry for the other poor fucks who didn't quit and never called bitch-face on her shit. I'm not even sure if I really DO feel sorry for them. They all had the same opportunity I did - to quit and blow her ass out. Or to turn her in to her boss. But, that would have been disaster. That was one of all of our fears: Bitchface told us straight up that if SHE ever got written up by HER boss, she would write each of us up, even if we weren't at work that day. Skirting with illegal there. She told us she would throw our personal belongings away if we didn't get a locker soon - which was up to her to assign, but she never did. I could keep going. There's just so much shit seeping through my pores.

I may delete this later. I just need to say it "out loud". Since only a handfull of you know me well in real life, I don't worry about it getting back to Philip or anyone out here in the woodlands. Umm, please DON'T say anything to Philip about this...you know who I'm talking to. Just give me a few days to regain some mental strength. I also need to do something else "intelligent" to boost my ego, again. Figuring out how to switch most of the software over - while Philip changed out the hardware - didn't even do it.

Depression sucks. Mean people suck even worse. Wallowing sucks even worse than the other two put together! Baaaa! I'm gonna break my nearly 5 month "sober" spell and toke a little this weekend, if all goes well. By god, I deserve it.

*hit publish before thinking hit publish before thinking hit publish before thinking hit publish before thinking*
*you can always delete it tomorrow*

crash boom bam

2007-07-27T23:49:00.000-04:00

Our computer finally crashed. Through the miracles of the combined brainpower of Philip and myself (yeah, sometimes I are too smart), we rigged a little of this, and a little of that, from one computer, then to another, then finally to the one we should have moved it to about 3 years ago. I'm still learning the ropes on this thang.

In other news: I got hired at Dillard's the day I went for the final interview. I started the very next day. That would have been last friday. Umm, I quit this Wednesday at lunch. Talk about burning bridges!

My boss was the absolute worst and hateful person I've ever met. She made me cry every single day. No one has ever been able to do that. Not even my father, when I was a kid and I thought he just had to be Hitler's decendent.

The last straw was when she looked me straight in the eye, in front of all the other employees, and called me stupid. There was so much more to it, but that did it. When I went to one of the big wigs to sign my "exit interview" shit, he asked me all sorts of stuff. I busted her ass on every single hateful thing she'd done. Including some of the ways she actually broke the law. While I doubt much will happen to her, I do feel better knowing that someone turned her in for all of her...whatever you wanna call it.

The other 2 jobs that I had (did I mention there had been a third offer?), well, they don't wanna talk to me, now. I suspected as much. But, something will come along, I suppose. I certainly hope so!

All righty, now. I really am still trying to get the hang of this new computer and get all my internet stuff set back up on here. I'll be around again, soon, I hope. Also, to those of you I owe email replies, I promise to reply very soon.
xoxo

Burning bridges

2007-07-18T07:45:00.000-04:00

The big Wally-world has invited me for orientation, next week. Read: I'm hired. I was so thrilled I cried. Okay, I cried. Because I wasn't thrilled. I'm not sure why, but it's just not my cup o' tea. So, what did I do?

No, Sillies, I didn't say "no". I went and applied for another job. Depending on how I did on that rorshack test (or whatever the hell it is - sounds like Horshack, and if you remember him, I love you!), I got THAT job.

Said job: Dillard's. For some reason, I musta looked the part
(always go for "middle age classy" when applying at upscale dep't stores), because the manager of women's shoes snagged me and asked if I'd ever sold shoes before. That was before she saw my application. After a few minutes, she dragged me back to a quiet area and pretty much offered me the job, as long as I passed that stupid 90 question computer test-thingy.

I actually did sell shoes, once. For about a year. In 1989 or 1990. At a Bannister Shoe outlet. It was the real deal, too.

We measured feet, went behind the secret wall and brought out the shoe you chose, plus a few other magic shoes that you had not seen on your first go round for good "measure"... you know, one of those annoying places where you get pressured to buy shit that you probably don't need, but for some reason, you decide you do need it and buy the same item in 4 colors.

Wal-Mart offered me shit-for-pay because I haven't worked 12 consecutive months in the last 12 consecutive months (I swear to you, that's what the HR chick said to me!), plus, they weren't offering me benefits right away - in other words, they'd find a way to work me 39 1/2 hours, or whatever's legal in my state to prevent an employee from being eligible.

Dillard's offered me (if I'm hired) $1200-$1400/month to start, plus commission. We're expected to sell $100/hour, which is like 2 pairs of shoes at Dillard's, which is something like $10 commission or something like that. The shoe dep't manager told me that she made $1800 her first month selling, a year ago. She's made manager in a year. I don't want that responsibility, by any means, but the eighteen hundred bucks sounds fuckin' awesome!

I hope I'll hear back from them before Monday. If they offer the job for real, even though it won't begin until August (they're still building the store and shopping center), I'll gracefully decline Wal-Mart. Or, should I start there, then quit when I start at Dillard's? I dunno.

I know, I know...

2007-07-11T19:18:00.000-04:00

lately:

* the job I supposedly had...the big boss is on vacation. WTF?!
* I have a job interview at a really big chain "everything-store" that starts with a W and ends with a Mart...wish me luck cuz it has benefits and pays halfway decent
* HEY NONNY! I love you back
* we have a new insect repellant machine thingy that sounds like a cat sneezing every 15 minutes. It smells and is annoying and I have yet to see any improvement. fucking more gadgets to clutter up the house
* we're all going to dinner with my "smart and well-behaved" high school friend and her new fiance - the other friend from H.S. who I invited to lunch along with her awhile back. My mother has now called me a homewrecker. ALL I DID WAS TAKE THEM TO LUNCH!!! I feel all weirded out about this, now. I didn't have anything to do with both of them divorcing their spouses (or would that be spice?)...sheesh!
* Little A pulled a BIG ONE! I can't go into details because it involves something ILLEGAL!! but I promise everyone's still alive. Lucky people I tell ya. Lucky.

her punishments include - no television for a week (meager, but tough for her), no company for the rest of the summer, no anything for the rest of the summer, the mall is off-limits indefinately and the worst of the worst...she was invited and had tickets to the following:
Projekt Revolution
Warped Tour and
Ozzfest
***she won't be going to any of them

Now, for some stuff related to Lady K's latest entries:

I haven't clicked the link, but please God tell me that Chris Cornell did NOT do a remake of a Michael Jackson song. For the love of Pete. I would leave my husband for Chris...unless he's seriously messing around with tunes from ... that perv.

Her annoying workmate reminds me so much of Thing, I almost thought he worked there. He's pulled more shit, lately and I hope he loses a toe or something. But the best of all was the unneccessary advice that is so farfetched it belongs in a Mythbusters episode. I swear Lady K and I know the same people. They're aliens posing in different human-skins, that's all.

I'll be around again sooner or later. I miss you guys. Oh, and York...I'm waiting patiently by the couch.

A pinch of this, a teaspoon of that, what a nice recipe for life as of late

2007-06-29T17:33:00.000-04:00

We think Le Mutt has a tapeworm. Poor little poochie. He's always hungry, but stays thin as a rail. The local, sorta-vetrinarian (licensed to give rabies shots, but not to dispense other meds; also breeds dogs and is just really savvy on animals) will be up at the lodge over the weekend, so Philip's gonna take Wrinkles on a road trip to visit said Sorta. We're hoping to avoid a REAL vet bill, as it costs $65 just to walk in and take a breath, now.

Another yard sale. Yesterday, Little A and I set up with our friend at a local store. It was busy and we did okay. Not as well as we would have liked, but still enough to buy 2 weeks of groceries. Good thing since we're behind on every bill we have. It was 97° and we both got burnt. That was WITH sunscreen. But no shade, at all. I nearly fainted, twice, but finally went and cranked the truck and just sat in the a/c in the truck until the temperature gauge told me it was time to shut the truck off. My dad has called and offered me all the things that my mother just INSISTED she got to keep from my grandparent's things, last year. So, I suppose I'll be the glutton again and set up shop, at least once more, next week.

I caved. It didn't go well. My friend still had the set of sword thingies that Thing wanted. I traded her a very nice (never used - $45 price sticker still on it) solid oak hall tree PLUS $20 for the swords. I called Big A and told her to tell Thing that he owed me $50. Including my gas, that should about cover it (the hall tree was given to me). Mostly. Guess what? He now says he doesn't have the money. WTF?!! After begging with me and nearly driving me to murder, I give in to make him happy and he backs out on the deal? I'm sure you can imagine what this has done to my opinion of him.

Big A and I went and applied at Wal-Mart, today. *shudder* Not that Wal-Mart is a bad place to work, it's just not my idea of a fun job. At the local Wal-Marts (there are 3, now, all within a 25 mile radius of me, approximately), the women are catty, almost all the managers are arrogent and stuck-up men and the customer service clerks should be (and definately deserve to be) on extremely heavy drugs. Apparantly, most Wal-Mart customers around here are pretty shitty. I seriously hope I don't get called, although, I did pass the "assessment test" (wtf is that?!) with flying colors (Big A did not pass it, and I'm sure it's because the majority of the questions deal with how you've handled certain situations in PAST job situations). *sigh* A job is a job at the end of the day, though. Maybe they'll stick me in shipping and receiving. I would probably like that very much. I'm being serious, there - it's a good job where you can keep to yourself mostly and stay busy all the time. Oh, and you don't have to placate disgruntled customers who are pissed that their $2.95 flip-flops from 2 seasons ago broke. Yeah, I heard someone in the Cust. Svc. dep't giving the clerk hell about that, while I was filling out the online application at the store.

I did finally sleep, last night. Tuesday night I didn't sleep at all. Wednesday night I got about 4 hours, total, of very broken sleep. Little A and I did our yard sale thing for 11 hours straight, in the scorching heat, with no shade or shelter of any kind (she did go hang out at her friend's house for a couple of hours, once, though). When we got home, we were too exhausted to unload the truck (of nearly half what we took with us...bummer), but it began to rain. Despite my own fatigue, Big A and I unloaded the truck, just in time for a nice big downpour. When Philip got home (about 30 minutes later), I showered with all intentions of just grabbing a piece of toast then heading to bed by 8pm. He showered, then came out and told me that I HAD to go with him to the grocery store. I made $210 at the yard sale - not including the $50 that Thing owes me - which I took to pay for groceries. Groceries were $190. We shopped wisely, though. Those are supposed to get us through 2 weeks. When we got home, he and I put the groceries away, I ate a little thing of Chef Boyardee pasta, drank about a half gallon of tea, nearly as much water, then went to bed at 10pm. I woke up once to tinkle. This morning at 9am, Big A came in with a steaming cup of fresh coffee and forced me out of bed. I still had a great sleep. I'm thinking I'll sleep just as well tonight, too.

I know it sounds like I whined a whole lot throughout that whole shpeil, but I'm not really complaining too much. Except for my strong desire to throttle Thing, of course. Life is still good and I still love my family, my friends, my cats and dogs, my house, the lovely view, my new washing machine (if you go for a new one, TOTALLY consider a Frigidaire front loader - they fucking ROCK!), all you blog buddies...the list goes on. Oh, next time you see a samurai sword, think of Thing. If you care about me at all, send bad vibes his way. And remind me to NEVER do anothe kind thing for him, again!

to you all!

Lily Allen says I'm calling for a whine and a moan

2007-06-26T14:48:00.000-04:00

but, hey, we all deserve to moan once in awhile.

1. Philip was climbing the steps to the "storage building" (read tacky-ass school bus), Thursday evening. The steps are old and rickety and one was already missing, but hey, they were free and the exact right heighth. Free does NOT equal safe. The top step gave under Philip's weight and the 50 pound wench he was lugging up. He fell completely through the step frame, grating his back (on both sides) down the rust frame, nail snagging through his leg, broken and splintery wood gouging him everywhere it can reach. We tried our best to get him to go to the E.R., as he was writhing on the ground in tears and screaming in pain. After Big A and I got the car pulled down into the back yard, threw on appropriate clothes, grabbed him a change of clothes and a big glass of iced tea....he decided not to go. Ass! He did go to the Urgent Care center, Friday. Why there? Well, they have ex-ray facilities right there and it's covered by our insurance if they order ex-rays THERE - not at our doctor's office. Thank goodness, no broken bones, no apparant organ injuries. His back looks like someone just grabbed the skin and ripped it off in 2 places. Elsewhere, he's got those nasty yellow, brown and purple bruises. I will be burning those steps and using the rusty metal frame for batting practice.

2. Thursday was the day that Big A and I set up with my antiqueing friend at a small local "flea market" (read field on major but rural highway with lots of traffic near a community health center, small post office and major trucking route). I was selling jewelry that I will eventually photograph and share with yall. I made 2 whole sales. Well, I also sold a lovely little piece of china to my friend. I made a whopping $45. My friend made over $400. Did I mention that we arrived at 6:15am to set up a tarp, as it was going to be in the 90's with no wind, and we didn't leave until after 6pm? How silly of me. It was less than an hour after we returned home when Philip fell through the steps.

3. Thing was determined that he and Big A were going to do something this weekend. I had said for over a week that I wasn't doing a damn thing all weekend. I had said that the two of them needed to figure out a way to work out transportation without having to drive all us parents batty. I mean, c'mon, Thing is fucking EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD!!! Apparantly, he nagged his parents until his sister agreed to come get Big A and bring her back home. IF Big A gave her gas money. Thing never even offered to give his sis gas money, he let Big A shell out the $25 she had just earned by helping my mom work in her yard Saturday morning. Oh, it was in the upper 80's that morning with an 85% humidity rate. I'd say she deserved what she made and should NOT have had to pay for the gas since THING was the one who threw the tantrum until he got his way. I say that in all honesty. Big A truly expected Thing to offer to pay the gas money.

4. When they got back here, Sunday evening, Big A had a hickey the size of shoulder pad on her neck. Thing kept trying to strike up a conversation with me. I kept ignoring him or giving one word answers. Or rolling my eyes and grunting as I waved him off with my hand. He then had the fucking audacity to make a snide comment about the lapiz and tiger's eye stones I was meticulously threading along wire fine enough to cut you. Big A noticed that particular exchange and dragged him away from me just in time. Had I not been stuck behind a table at that precise moment, he would have no ears or nose or hair left. I believe I would have seriously mamed him. Yesterday morning, just as I was getting up - and before my obligatory coffee and first cigarette - he called and wanted to talk to ME. I went off the fucking deep end. I chewed Big A a new asshole and let him hear what I thought of him as she kept trying to hand me the phone. I believe my words were something akin to, "you fucking little stuck-up, spoiled prick! If you ever leave a mark on my child again, I'll hurt you worse than you've ever been hurt before. Then I'll have your fucking ass arrested for child molestation. Big guys named Bubba like handsome young men to be their bitches in prison. They like to knock out their front teeth so the bitch can suck cock easier. If they find out you're a child molester, you'll have all kinds of new friends!" I then proceeded to bitch Big A out about how how indecent it looks to walk around with hickies showing. It makes her look easy. Ummm, Thing hasn't asked to talk to me, since. I believe he's afraid. Finally. Oh, she and I were also supposed to go apply for a job, together, yesterday. Like she can go apply for a job with a great big monkey mark on her neck. I'm still pissed.

5. I guess I'm glad his parents didn't allow Thing to drive, though. He called sometime Sunday evening, saying he'd had a wreck. He was trying to pass a tractor. He "misjudged the distance of the oncoming traffic" and ended up having to swerve INTO the tractor in order to avoid the big truck that was barrelling its way towards him. The stupid shit couldn't tell if he could pass a TRACTOR?! I'm talking about a farm tractor, yall. On a really good day, they can go 25mph, flat out. How the fuck do you misjudge something like that? How the fuck do you total your car by hitting a tractor?!

I know better than to say I hope he dies - cuz I'd not wish that on anyone (well, not too many people, anyway) - but I do wish he'd fall off the face of the earth. I can't remember the last time I felt this level of hatred towards anyone. I no longer feel bad for disliking a young person so much. He is not worthy of my respect. He is not worthy of much of anything except a good ol' fashioned ass-whoopin. When I hear the phone ring, now, my face turns red and I start shaking. I have literally had to start taking my Valium, again, on a semi-regular basis. You know if it's this unhealthy for me, that will make it all the more unhealthy for those around me. If Philip doesn't step in and do something about Thing and a few other little things that are going on at home, I may leave for a couple of weeks. Seriously. It's not that I don't love the girls and Philip with all my heart, but I'm not feeling that I'm getting anything in return. Perhaps if I'm gone for a few days, they'll figure out that they actually need me. Or maybe even miss me a little.

But hey, I'm now something like 6-8 weeks thc-free. whoopedy-dooo!

Facts

2007-06-24T10:52:00.000-04:00

*I've decided that Nonny hates me
*My ass is larger than my sewing chair
*My dishwasher has it in for me. It keeps spitting icky stuff into my favorite coffee cup.
*Litter boxes suck chocolate salty balls.
*One of my dogs is stupid. The other one is brilliant. The stupid one resembles me, WAAAAYYYY too much!
*Some of the Happy Bunny stickers on my keyboard are wearing off. I guess I only *thought* I knew my keys by heart.
*I have a new treed that's pretty cool. (treed = tree+weed...c'mon, you know you all have one somewhere in your yard)
*Mushrooms scare off hornets. At least the ones in my woods/yard.
*I need some lift. In a few places. And plastic surgery is just way too frickin' expensive.
*I plan on losing 4,965,737 pounds before my high school reunion. Okay, maybe just 37. Okay, maybe not quite 37, but a single digit size would rock. Then maybe my ass would fit in my sewing chair.
*I would like to see York's hands. Very much.
*I can't wait for school to go back in session!
*As creative as I may be, there just is NO market for hand-made specialty crafts around here. Unless I don't mind driving 50+ miles, which defeats the purpose, by the time I make the trip twice a week with the price of gas what it is, today.
*I hate road races and today, unfortunately, the race is at Sonoma.
*Kasey Kahne is sucking hind tit this season, so I need to find a new “favorite” driver. Don’t even THINK about suggestion Jeff Gordon. Even his name in print makes me cringe. But he did have a new baby this past week. That’s always cool.
*My “job” has been reduced to chauffer, cook and gopher.
*My daughter’s “thing” is just a spoiled little prick who needs a good ol’ fashion trip to the woodshed. He’s 18, so I could get away with it, without it being considered assault on a minor.
*Despite being highly allergic to them, queen ann’s lace and goldenrod are actually quite lovely weeds.
*When doctors create a cure for allergies, I will be first in line. Even if it involves invasive brain surgery.
*Weaving is comforting and cathartic. But then, so is breaking shit.

Should I stay or should I go, now...?

2007-06-19T11:26:00.000-04:00

...Should I stay or should i go now?
if I go there will be trouble
and if I stay it will be double
so come on and let me know ...
The indecisions bugging me...

September is a rough month for us. Both girls AND Philip have birthdays that month. This coming September is even worse. Big A turns 16 and Philip turns 40 - two great big birthdays to celebrate. It's also when my high school reunion is scheduled. It's actually scheduled for 9/22 and 9/23. Little A's birthday is 9/21.

You know I've been hesitant about the reunion, anyway. Not just because of the country club bullshit, but for lots of reasons. But, in some ways, I think maybe I should go. I mean, I really haven't seen most of these people in 20 years. Seriously. I guess I'm a little curious. I don't feel the need to brag - and we don't really have too many bragging-rights, as it stands. Well, except we own our own home, have 2 great kids, have been married for 19 years - to the same person!, Philip has had the same job (which truly isn't something to sneeze at), bla bla bla. Oh shit! I just bragged. Not really, but you kinda see where I'm going.

Then there's this whole "do I lose weight? change my hair? wear something completely out of character for me?..." Oh, as for the dress part, there's a dress code at the country club. No tattered or holey jeans. Slacks must be worn on Sundays, not jeans. No jean skirts at all. Men must wear button down or collared shirts. No t-shirts of any kind. No flip-flops. No mini-skirts. No sundresses (what constitutes a sundress?). No belly shirts or revealing necklines. Pfft! Like I'll follow that part of the code. PUHLEEEZE! (the neckline part - I don't wear belly shirts, but I have great cleavage)

So, yall get to decide for me. Seriously. If I knew how to put up a poll, I'd do it. Just vote, okay. Please.

Show Your Ass

2007-06-18T14:05:00.000-04:00

It's currently a balmy 94°, here (34°C), which made me think of the beach and remember the pictures I promised. These have not been altered, except for size. The handwritten "P" you'll see, was already there. We didn't put it there.

Entrance to private, luxury trailer park (yeah, they have them, if that's what you wanna call it) at Indian Beach, NC

Sundown behind storm clouds that dropped 2 inches of rain on us in less than an hour...but we didn't mind

Reunions

2007-06-17T15:51:00.000-04:00

I knew it was time. My 20th H.S. reunion was due for this summer. Not sure why, but the "committee" has decided to wait until September to do it. Perhaps it's because they decided to do it at the Country Club. Ugh! I abhor the local country club. It has all the amenities of a standard country club - including the outlandish snobbishness. Don't get me wrong. I've been to numerous country clubs and found some of them quite charming. Found many of the members to be as humble and down to earth as anyone else. But the country club that my high school is famous for (it was the school district) is, and always has been, the ultimate breeding ground of disgusting snobbishness. I'm not talking about the business men and women who work hard and enjoy the luxuries that go with their hard work. I'm talking about "old money" (because there sure as hell ain't no NEW money to be found in THIS neck o' the woods!); old cronies; kids with $100/week allowances at the age of 10 - for doing nothing except giving their maids a hard time; parents trying to outdo their neighbors by buying their budding 16 year olds the most expensive cars they can find... I kid you not.

I specifically remember a set of twins who graduated the year before me. Their parents bought them each a brand spanking new Porche for their 16th's. One took the sports car, the other took the luxury sedan. I remember a "friend" from a youth organization to which I belonged who got a beautiful new BMW for her 16th. I remember another aquaintance who got a 1987 Mercedes convertible for his 16th birthday - in 1986! His father had it custom outfitted to the tune of about $80K, total. What the fuck is wrong with these people? Do they really think that giving their children everything under the sun, just so THEY can exceed the Joneses, will make their children responsible and bla bla bla? Well, I guess some of those kids did meet the tremendous expectations put upon them. Funny thing, though: I've seen so many of the country club kid crowd I graduated with working menial, minimum wage jobs...

I just hate the local country club crowd. I'm a reverse snob, so I've been told. Whatever. I was truly planning to go to this reunion. I skipped all the other reunions and get-togethers, in the past. This year, I'd decided to say, "fuck not being a size 4, anymore; fuck not making our first million; fuck not driving a car we can't afford; fuck it all...". Now, I'm rethinking it all. Not because I care what anyone else thinks - because, ya know, I'm me and that's all that's important in life. I don't care about what others think, what others do, and how fake they all may be - I just hate the fucking country club. I also have a feeling that it will be insanely expensive to have all the festivities held there. I foresee $100 tickets per couple for the main night. I'm not kidding. Our proms were held there. Tickets to my senior prom (1987) were $75/couple. That was 20 years ago. Am I the only person who thinks that's ridiculously expensive? Maybe I'm cheap. But, keep in mind, we don't live in a big city. We don't have all the fancy shops that bigger cities have. We don't have lots of high dollar earning white-collar jobs available in our city. The average salary for an attorney in the city is about $55K. The average salary for a family doctor in a large practice (who is very picky about what insurance they accept and you can't afford if you DON'T have insurance) is about $45K. We're not talking a big-money area. We're talking Small Town USA.

*sigh* I have GOT to remember that they are just people, too. I have GOT to quit thinking about differences and accept similarities. I have GOT to get over my hatred for my high school years and some of the kids with whom I attended. At the end of the day, we all shit the same. Some just have bidets and prettier colored water.

"I'm Back...back in the saddle again..."

2007-06-13T12:23:00.000-04:00

The beach was wonderful. The trip was mostly uneventful, but remind me to show you a picture of the "ass" sign, later on. I haven't uploaded all the photos, yet. The weather was good, except for a really nasty storm, Saturday night. It didn't hinder our vacation, though. The drive down and then back went fine, but damn the traffic was nerve-wracking, as they're doing construction all frickin' over I-40. But, I must have done a good job because Little A says I never scared her. Brave little thing ;)

I found something I want to share, though. A more serious tone, here. This is really long, so here's the link, if you'd rather load it and read it at leisure. This is President Nixon's speech to the United States, the autumn after his election, regarding the war in Vietnam. The reason I'm posting it will become obvious if you read it. This same speech could be made by Dubya's predecessor, just changing a few names, countries and dates. It's scary, really. I urge you to take the time to read this, either on this blog, or on your own via the link. Think about the parallels. It should, at the very least, make you take pause and consider what kind of quagmire we're in, for a very long time coming.

President Nixon's Speech on "Vietnamization," November 3, 1969.
Good evening, my fellow Americans:

Tonight I want to talk to you on a subject of deep concern to all Americans and to many people in all parts of the world the war in Vietnam.
I believe that one of the reasons for the deep division about Vietnam is that many Americans have lost confidence in what their Government has told them about our policy. The American people cannot and should not be asked to support a policy which involves the overriding issues of war and peace unless they know the truth about that policy.
Tonight, therefore, I would like to answer some of the questions that I know are on the minds of many of you listening to me.
How and why did America get involved in Vietnam in the first place?
How has this administration changed the policy of the previous administration?
What has really happened in the negotiations in Paris and on the battle-front in Vietnam?
What choices do we have if we are to end the war?
What are the prospects for peace?
Now, let me begin by describing the situation I found when I was inaugurated on January 20.
-The war had been going on for 4 years.
-31,000 Americans had been killed in action.
-The training program for the South Vietnamese was behind schedule.
-540,000 Americans were in Vietnam with no plans to reduce the number.
-No progress had been made at the negotiations in Paris and the United States had not put forth a comprehensive peace proposal.
-The war was causing deep division at home and criticism from many of our friends as well as our enemies abroad.
In view of these circumstances there were some who urged that I end the war at once by ordering the immediate withdrawal of all American forces.
From a political standpoint this would have been a popular and easy course to follow. After all, we became involved in the war while my predecessor was in office. I could blame the defeat which would be the result of my action on him and come out as the peacemaker. Some put it to me quite bluntly: This was the only way to avoid allowing Johnson's war to become Nixon's war.
But I had a greater obligation than to think only of the years of my administration and of the next election. I had to think of the effect of my decision on the next generation and on the future of peace and freedom in America and in the world.
Let us all understand that the question before us is not whether some Americans are for peace and some Americans are against peace. The question at issue is not whether Johnson's war becomes Nixon's war.
The great question is: How can we win America's peace?
Well, let us turn now to the fundamental issue. Why and how did the United States become involved in Vietnam in the first place?
Fifteen years ago North Vietnam, with the logistical support of Communist China and the Soviet Union, launched a campaign to impose a Communist government on South Vietnam by instigating and supporting a revolution.
In response to the request of the Government of South Vietnam, President Eisenhower sent economic aid and military equipment to assist the people of South Vietnam in their efforts to prevent a Communist takeover. Seven years ago, President Kennedy sent 16,000 military personnel to Vietnam as combat advisers. Four years ago, President Johnson sent American combat forces to South Vietnam.
Now, many believe that President Johnson's decision to send American combat forces to South Vietnam was wrong. Any many others I among them have been strongly critical of the way the war has been conducted.
But the question facing us today is: Now that we are in the war, what is the best way to end it?
In January I could only conclude that the precipitate withdrawal of American forces from Vietnam would be a disaster not only for South Vietnam but for the United States and for the cause of peace.
For the South Vietnamese, our precipitate withdrawal would inevitably allow the Communists to repeat the massacres which followed their takeover in the North 15 years before.
-They then murdered more than 50,000 people and hundreds of thousands more died in slave labor camps.
-We saw a prelude of what would happen in South Vietnam when the Communists entered the city of Hue last year. During their brief rule there, there was a bloody reign of terror in which 3,000 civilians were clubbed, shot to death, and buried in mass graves.
-With the sudden collapse of our support, these atrocities of Hue would become the nightmare of the entire nation and particularly for the million and a half Catholic refugees who fled to South Vietnam when the Communists took over in the North.
For the United States, this first defeat in our Nation's history would result in a collapse of confidence in American leadership, not only in Asia but through-out the world.
Three American Presidents have recognized the great stakes involved in Vietnam and understood what had to be done.
In 1963, President Kennedy, with his characteristic eloquence and clarity, said: "... we want to see a stable government there, carrying on a struggle to maintain its national independence.
"We believe strongly in that. We are not going to withdraw from that effort. In my opinion, for us to withdraw from that effort would mean a collapse not only of South Vietnam, but Southeast Asia. So we are going to stay there."
President Eisenhower and President Johnson expressed the same conclusion during their terms of office.
For the future of peace, precipitate withdrawal would thus be a disaster of immense magnitude.
-A nation cannot remain great if it betrays its allies and lets down its friends.
-Our defeat and humiliation in South Vietnam without question would promote recklessness in the councils of those great powers who have not yet abandoned their goals of world conquest.
-This would spark violence wherever our commitments help maintain the peace in the Middle East, in Berlin, eventually even in the Western Hemisphere.
Ultimately, this would cost more lives.
It would not bring peace; it would bring more war.
For these reasons, I rejected the recommendation that I should end the war by immediately withdrawing all of our forces. I chose instead to change American policy on both the negotiating front and battlefront....
We Americans are a do-it-yourself people. We are an impatient people.
Instead of teaching someone else to do a job, we like to do it ourselves. And this trait has been carried over into our foreign policy.
In Korea and again in Vietnam, the United States furnished most of the money, most of the arms, and most of the men to help the people of those countries defend their freedom against Communist aggression.
Before any American troops were committed to Vietnam, a leader of another Asian country expressed this opinion to me when I was traveling in Asia as a private citizen. He said: "When you are trying to assist another nation defend its freedom, U.S. policy should be to help them fight the war but not to fight the war for them." ...
Well, in accordance with this wise counsel, I laid down in Guam three principles as guidelines for future American policy toward Asia:
-First, the United States will keep all of its treaty commitments.
-Second, we shall provide a shield if a nuclear power threatens the freedom of a nation allied with us or of a nation whose survival we consider vital to our security.
-Third, in cases involving other types of aggression, we shall furnish military and economic assistance when requested in accordance with our treaty commitments. But we shall look to the nation directly threatened to assume the primary responsibility of providing the manpower for its defense.
After I announced this policy, I found that the leaders of the Philippines, Thailand, Vietnam, South Korea, and other nations which might be threatened by Communist aggression, welcomed this new direction in American foreign policy.
The defense of freedom is everybody's business not just America's business. And it is particularly the responsibility of the people whose freedom is threatened. In the previous administration, we Americanized the war in Vietnam. In this administration, we are Vietnamizing the search for peace.
The policy of the previous administration not only resulted in our assuming the primary responsibility for fighting the war, but even more significantly did not adequately stress the goal of strengthening the South Vietnamese so that they could defend themselves when we left.
The Vietnamization plan was launched following Secretary Laird's visit to Vietnam in March. Under the plan, I ordered first a substantial increase in the training and equipment of South Vietnamese forces.
-After 5 years of Americans going into Vietnam, we are finally bringing men home. By December 15, over 60,000 men will have been withdrawn from South Vietnam including 20 percent of all of our combat forces.
-The South Vietnamese have continued to gain in strength. As a result they have been able to take over combat responsibilities from our American troops.
Two other significant developments have occurred since this administration took office.
-Enemy infiltration, infiltration which is essential if they are to launch a major attack, over the last 3 months is less than 20 percent of what it was over the same period last year.
-Most important United States casualties have declined during the last 2 months to the lowest point in 3 years.
Let me now turn to our program for the future.
We have adopted a plan which we have worked out in cooperation with the South Vietnamese for the complete withdrawal of all U.S. combat ground forces, and their replacement by South Vietnamese forces on an orderly scheduled timetable. This withdrawal will be made from strength and not from weakness. As South Vietnamese forces become stronger, the rate of American withdrawal can become greater.
I have not and do not intend to announce the timetable for our program. And there are obvious reasons for this decision which I am sure you will understand. As I have indicated on several occasions, the rate of withdrawal will depend on developments on three fronts.
One of these is the progress which can be or might be made in the Paris talks. An announcement of a fixed timetable for our withdrawal would completely remove any incentive for the enemy to negotiate an agreement. They would simply wait until our forces had withdrawn and then move in.
The other two factors on which we will base our withdrawal decisions are the level of enemy activity and the progress of the training programs of the South Vietnamese forces. And I am glad to be able to report tonight progress on both of these fronts has been greater than we anticipated when we started the program in June for withdrawal. As a result, our timetable for withdrawal is more optimistic now than when we made our first estimates in June. Now, this clearly demonstrates why it is not wise to be frozen in on a fixed timetable.
We must retain the flexibility to base each withdrawal decision on the situation as it is at the time rather than on estimates that are no longer valid.
Along with this optimistic estimate, I must in all candor leave one note of caution.
If the level of enemy activity significantly increases we might have to adjust our timetable accordingly.
However, I want the record to be completely clear on one point.
At the time of the bombing halt just a year ago, there was some confusion as to whether there was an understanding on the part of the enemy that if we stopped the bombing of North Vietnam they would stop the shelling of cities in South Vietnam. I want to be sure that there is no misunderstanding on the part of the enemy with regard to our withdrawal program.
We have noted the reduced level of infiltration, the reduction of our casualties, and are basing our withdrawal decisions partially on those factors.
If the level of infiltration or our casualties increase while we are trying to scale down the fighting, it will be the result of a conscious decision by the enemy.
Hanoi could make no greater mistake than to assume that an increase in violence will be to its advantage. If I conclude that increased enemy action jeopardizes our remaining forces in Vietnam, I shall not hesitate to take strong and effective measures to deal with that situation.
This is not a threat. This is a statement of policy, which, as Commander in Chief of our Armed Forces, I am making in meeting my responsibility for the protection of American fighting men wherever they may be.
My fellow Americans, I am sure you can recognize from what I have said that we really only have two choices open to us if we want to end this war. -I can order an immediate, precipitate withdrawal of all Americans from Vietnam without regard to the effects of that action.
-Or we can persist in our search for a just peace through a negotiated settlement if possible, or through continued implementation of our plan for Vietnamization if necessary a plan in which we will withdraw all our forces from Vietnam on a schedule in accordance with our program, as the South Vietnamese become strong enough to defend their own freedom.
I have chosen this second course.
It is not the easy way.
It is the right way.
It is a plan which will end the war and serve the cause of peace not just in Vietnam but in the Pacific and in the world.
In speaking of the consequences of a precipitate withdrawal, I mentioned that our allies would lose confidence in America.
Far more dangerous, we would lose confidence in ourselves. Oh, the immediate reaction would be a sense of relief that our men were coming home. But as we saw the consequences of what we had done, inevitable remorse and divisive recrimination would scar our spirit as a people.
We have faced other crises in our history and have become stronger by rejecting the easy way out and taking the right way in meeting our challenges. Our greatness as a nation has been our capacity to do what had to be done when we knew our course was right.
I recognize that some of my fellow citizens disagree with the plan for peace I have chosen. Honest and patriotic Americans have reached different conclusions as to how peace should be achieved.
In San Francisco a few weeks ago, I saw demonstrators carrying signs reading: "Lose in Vietnam, bring the boys home."
Well, one of the strengths of our free society is that any American has a right to reach that conclusion and to advocate that point of view. But as President of the United States, I would be untrue to my oath of office if I allowed the policy of this Nation to be dictated by the minority who hold that point of view and who try to impose it on the Nation by mounting demonstrations in the street.
For almost 200 years, the policy of this Nation has been made under our Constitution by those leaders in the Congress and the White House elected by all of the people. If a vocal minority, however fervent its cause, prevails over reason and the will of the majority, this Nation has no future as a free society.
And now I would like to address a word, if I may, to the young people of this Nation who are particularly concerned, and I understand why they are concerned, about this war.
I respect your idealism.
I share your concern for peace.
I want peace as much as you do.
There are powerful personal reasons I want to end this war. This week I will have to sign 83 letters to mothers, fathers, wives, and loved ones of men who have given their lives for America in Vietnam. It is very little satisfaction to me that this is only one-third as many letters as I signed the first week in office. There is nothing I want more than to see the day come when I do not have to write any of those letters.
-I want to end the war to save the lives of those brave young men in Vietnam. -But I want to end it in a way which will increase the chance that their younger brothers and their sons will not have to fight in some future Vietnam someplace in the world.
-And I want to end the war for another reason. I want to end it so that the energy and dedication of you, our young people, now too often directed into bitter hatred against those responsible for the war, can be turned to the great challenges of peace, a better life for all Americans, a better life for all people on this earth.
I have chosen a plan for peace. I believe it will succeed.
If it does succeed, what the critics say now won't matter. If it does not succeed, anything I say then won't matter.
I know it may not be fashionable to speak of patriotism or national destiny these days. But I feel it is appropriate to do so on this occasion. Two hundred years ago this Nation was weak and poor. But even then, America was the hope of millions in the world. Today we have become the strongest and richest nation in the world. And the wheel of destiny has turned so that any hope the world has for the survival of peace and freedom will be determined by whether the American people have the moral stamina and the courage to meet the challenge of free world leadership.
Let historians not record that when America was the most powerful nation in the world we passed on the other side of the road and allowed the last hopes for peace and freedom of millions of people to be suffocated by the forces of totalitarianism.
And so tonight to you, the great silent majority of my fellow Americans, I ask for your support.
I pledged in my campaign for the Presidency to end the war in a way that we could win the peace. I have initiated a plan of action which will enable me to keep that pledge.
The more support I can have from the American people, the sooner that pledge can be redeemed; for the more divided we are at home, the less likely the enemy is to negotiate at Paris.
Let us be united for peace. Let us also be united against defeat. Because let us understand: North Vietnam cannot defeat or humiliate the United States. Only Americans can do that.
Fifty years ago, in this room and at this very desk, President Woodrow Wilson spoke words which caught the imagination of a war-weary world. He said: "This is the war to end war." His dream for peace after World War I was shattered on the hard realities of great power politics and Woodrow Wilson died a broken man.
Tonight I do not tell you that the war in Vietnam is the war to end wars. But I do say this: I have initiated a plan which will end this war in a way that will bring us closer to that great goal to which Woodrow Wilson and every American President in our history has been dedicated the goal of a just and lasting peace.
As President I hold the responsibility for choosing the best path to that goal and then leading the Nation along it.
I pledge to you tonight that I shall meet this responsibility with all of the strength and wisdom I can command in accordance with your hopes, mindful of your concerns, sustained by your prayers.
Thank you and goodnight.

SOURCE: Public Papers of the Presidents of the United States: Richard Nixon, 1969, pp. 901-909.

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Hi, my name is Birdy. Why? Because I'm flighty.

2007-06-07T09:17:00.000-04:00

Don't you hate it when you grab a glass from the dishwasher, pour yourself a glass of tea (or drink of choice), take a big gulp, then realize there's dishwasher spit down in the bottom? If you have a dishwasher, you know what dishwasher spit is.

Corky asked me what beach I was going to. I'm going to Atlantic Beach, NC via Newport which is just across the bridge from Emerald Isle. While, technically, I'll be staying in Newport, I'll only see the town as I drive through to hit the sack each evening. Oh, I encourage you to click the link for Newport. Look about halfway down the page. See it? See the "If you are a 'Visitor'" part? See it, yet? Read it. Laugh. The only "pickin' & grinnin" I care for is when we have our British friends down (over?) and have the good ol' fashioned redneck parties with drinking, shooting, more drinking, a couple folks with their guitars and lots of drunk singing. Yes, we really do that. No one's been shot, yet. Although, that one year, that one guy went missing...hmmm...

Little A and I are leaving at the crack of whenever we drag our asses out of bed and shower and all that jazz, tomorrow. Philip & Big A are staying home. Little A and I are staying until we decide to come home. I'm not sure when that'll be. Monday...Tuesday...Thursday...? We'll see. Probably until I run out of money. I plan to come back with a tan.

That's my spider bite. It is now 7 days old. I know it's hard to see. Yeah, you get a little flash of boob, there, under my flabby arm. Yes, the bite is near my shoulder. It's hard to get a picture, there, without really flashing. I'm not terribly worried about the bite, since it hasn't gone into necrosis. (hahahaha! when trying to find a decent link for that word, I got a whole list of ads for "find necrosis at ebay.com, [etc. etc]"....like anyone would want to BUY necrosis?!)
That's what necrosis from a spider bite looks like. Pretty, huh?

I discovered that there is a slight chance this may be a centipede bite, because I found one crawling on my pant leg the other day, but they say it hurts like a mother when a centipede bites. I never felt a bite. Quite frankly, the fucking centipede freaked me out enough that I pissed my pants (yes, I really did), so I'd much rather imagine this is a spider bite. It looks like a spider bite vs. a centipede bite, anyway. Ya got the willies, yet?

While I'm gone, Philip plans to kill off and dispose of the hornet's nest that is in one of the trees in the front yard. These are Japanese Hornets. Yes, they are that big. Creepy fuckers. I urged Philip to borrow his buddy's bee suit (yeah, one of his friends keeps beehives to help polinate his apple trees and his veggie crops), but Philip says he'll get the hornets at night, when they're asleep. Yeah, whatever. If you were a bee, sleeping soundly amidst your brothers and sisters, and some fool started spraying poison into your home, would you stay asleep and lay there to just die?

I'm off to attempt to download some cheezy 80's music to put on a tape for the car ride. You know (if you're a product of the Me Generation) you secretly listen to songs like:
She's a Beauty, by The Tubes
Love Plus One, by Haircut 100
Abracadabra, by The Steve Miller Band
Whip It, by Devo (hell, you don't have to be in your 30's to know that song!)
Hold Me Now, by The Thompson Twins...

Have a great weekend, everyone! Oh, and Lady K, yes, I'll fly you out when I hit the lottery big. We'll drive to the beach and play Jungle Golf and buy gaudy trinkets from the "I-wanna-be-a-real-surf-shop-but-my-owner-is-too-fucking-cheap" shops. Keychains, 5 for $5; postcards, $ .99/ea, "One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor" shot glasses, free hermit crab with cage set-up...

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

2007-06-05T16:11:00.000-04:00

Big A is home sick with a cold and *thought* she was missing an exam today

Turns out she was exempt from the exam because she has a 97 in the class

I spent Saturday running Little A and her best friend all over creation - while I was sneezing my fool head off, running a fever of 102° and just miserable

Turns out, I'm NOT sick. I have a spider bite the size of Miami and that is the likely culprit of all the ickies on Saturday

We have two major illness scares at home:

*Philip is currently being treated for Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever
*Big A has potentially been exposed to TB

Turns out, she was exposed to this during "Thing's" graduation party. His uncle was being tested for it, but didn't tell anyone.
I found this out last night. Because "Thing" slipped and told me. I called his dad, today. He him-hawed around the issue, then finally said they weren't telling anyone yet because...get this... the Health Department had not disclosed the results yet and hadn't given the order to alert all those exposed.

No one can tell me whether Big A is in any kind of danger. All I keep hearing (I called my doctor's office, anonymously) is, even IF the uncle has it, the chances of Big A contracting it (because she was never in direct contact with the uncle and never closer than 4 - 5 people away) are almost nill. Do you think that makes me feel any better?!

Little A and I were supposed to leave Friday morning for the beach. Philip had actually decided to go. He was going to ride down with my mom after they both get off work, Friday evening. Despite the fact that my mom has driven me to the brink of insanity over this whole beach weekend, I was still looking forward to going. But now...well, I can't very well send Big A to stay with anyone (she doesn't want to go because my mom is going - and my mom has been particularly bitchy to her, lately), not knowing what to do about this whole TB thing.

Philip now says he won't go, he'll just stay here with Big A. To be quite honest, I really don't fucking trust him. Is that so wrong?

This morning, after spending $2 on a scratch lotto ticket, I won $7. I cashed that in for 2 more different scratch-offs. I won $10 on one of those. I haven't cashed that in, though. I'm saving that for when I run out of ciggies

Happiness Is...

2007-06-01T11:15:00.000-04:00

All of these involve looking out into my front and back yards and enjoying my home...this is not a meme, but a more upbeat me

watching the queen ann's lace blow, overtaking an old rusted something-or-other that was making the yard look icky. It's now pretty with all the big white clusters blowing in the breeze

watching Wrinkles (Le Mutt) chase lizards to the end of his chain, then watching him find another to chase again

watching Blackie wag her tail as soon as she sees Little A walk outside to say hello to her

looking at the new dogwood tree that Philip swore was a "weed", but I convinced him not to cut down last autumn

watching Eric (the long-haired black cat) chase sun speckles while the wind blows the trees, leaving beautiful splotches of sun to dart hither and yon

watching Styx (the short-haired black cat) chase butterflies and jump into the air trying to catch them

taming the toad who lives under my back porch - so much so that he'll let me hold him and he'll nudge my finger until I rub his head

smelling the fresh cut hay in the field across the way

watching the horses come down into the back pasture which is just a few hundred yards behind our house and across another private gravel road

watching the old man (who lives at the end of our road, just on the edge of the main road) walk up and down our road, with stick in hand, swatting away the bees and gnats and deerflies and such and poking along the tall grass for snakes

watching the two copperheads chase one another down in the lower field (as long as they stay down there!)

realizing that one of my cala lilies actually bloomed this year, for the first time since I planted them 3 summers ago

watching Wrinkles chase the water flowing from the hose when Little A goes out to replenish his water pail

letting part of the flower garden become completely overgrown and convincing Philip to just leave it be

watching the newest butterflies flutter around, just a tad bit shy and curious

watching the new baby birds taking flight for the first time

seeing the tiny blue birds (who are the most beautiful shade of sparkling blue/purple) fly back and forth in the opening of the woods out back

noticing just how many colors all the little lizards are that inhabit the front and back

smelling the charcoal when Philip grills on our outdoor makeshift firepit (made over a sandpile with concrete blocks and a piece of an old grill)

standing on the back porch, smelling the fabric softener where the dryer vents on the back of the house

looking at new growth on the big tree that we just swore was dead

"arguing" with the borer bee who has claimed our front porch as his "territory" (he'll buzz close to you, then back up, then buzz again, until you speak to him and tell him to "just wait a minute and I'll be out of your way!")

seeing the young deer lose their spots and begin to get bigger

watching the little white flowers bloom on the blackberry thickets, just knowing we'll have lots of juicy blackberries in about a month or two

standing on the front porch at 8:00 in the morning, just as the sun breaks over the tallest trees and feeling the warm sunshine on my face

listening to the cats tap on the front storm door, telling me they want back inside

knowing that despite all else, this is my own little piece of Heaven

The meme is way more interesting

2007-05-31T13:00:00.000-04:00

0I812...things

Brad and Alkelda tagged me for the 8 facts meme, so here goes...

Here are the rules: Each player lists 8 facts/habits about themselves. The rules of the game are posted at the beginning before those facts/habits are listed. At the end of the post, the player then tags 8 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog.

I'm doing this twice - the first set will be more pleasant and less whiney:

1. Lady K is one of the bravest people I know - and I feel blessed just to get to say she's my friend.

2. I have come to love my blog buddies more than any other "internet friends" (except, of course, for Caro) I've ever met.

3. I was a city girl most of my life. Now, I can't imagine living "in town" and hope I never have to, again. Unless, of course, "town" was Atlantic Beach.

4. I'm a Happy Bunny fanatic. I even have Happy Bunny keyboard stickers. I always keep 2 quarters with me when I go to one of the 3 nearest Wal-Marts, because they have one of those cheezy vending machines with Happy Bunny plastic keychains. So far, I have 7.

5. I have the coolest kids in the world.

6. I started 4-year old kindergarten when I was 3. There was only one time throughout all my years in school when I was NOT the youngest in my class.

7. I had the opportunity to skip 2nd grade, but my parents chose not to, because I was already a year younger than the other kids.

8. My best friend lives in London, England, and I've never gotten to visit her over there. She (and her boyfriend) have visited me every year for...umm...4 years, I think. Maybe 5.

=================================================

01. My birthday is exactly one week before Christmas Day - and it still sucks.

02. My mother was my "safe" parent when I was a kid; my dad was a monster. They have switched roles since I'm grown.

03. I wish I could give my children everything they want in life.

04. I started greying when I was in my early twenties. In my early thirties, I let it go grey (and it was almost ALL grey!) for a very long time. Now, I color my hair at least every 6 weeks and I feel much better about myself because of it.

05. I wish I hadn't cut my hair short. Before I cut it in the winter, it was the longest it's been since I was 7 years old.

06. I sometimes drive to Atlantic Beach, NC, just for a day, to clear my head and become one with nature. It's a 4 hour drive, one way.

07. I dislike my daughter's boyfriend so much, I sometimes get migraines because of him.

08. After 19 years of marriage, my husband broke a very important wedding vow. I'm working on forgiveness, and will no longer blame myself for his mistake. Time will heal this, though. I have all the faith in the world that this can be mended.

I'm not tagging anyone because most of yall have already been tagged! Although, if you want to engage in this sweet meme, I'd love to see your answers.

drama drama drama drama

2007-05-31T11:59:00.001-04:00

I swanny (my southern roots are showing - reckon Miss Clairol has a cure for that?) I'm wondering what the hell I've done for all this bad kharma. But, I guess it could be worse.

Firstly, though, go here for "Alex's" blog. The "Alex" who is spamming everyone. He's hit a TON of people. Read all his replies. You'd think he'd get the message. Or that Blogger would have done something by now. I know that scads of people have flagged his blog. In one of the replies, someone posted the proper place to actually REPORT spammers, rather than just flagging. Brad, if you're seeing this, do it. If everyone would report the fruitcake, maybe Blogger will finally rid of us him once and for all.

Now, to Alex - I REALLY hope you read this. GET THE FUCK OFF MY BLOG!!!

On to regular life. Yes, life has sucked donkey balls lately. Yes, it will get better. Yes, I'll be pissed off for awhile. Yes, he's in the doghouse. BUT, we'll work it out.

Why haven't I been online or been available by phone the last few days? Well, because some moron "up the road" decided to dig a ditch. Despite all the little orange and yellow flags warning where power and phone lines are buried, he still dug the ditch. The phone guy saw all the flags laying off to the side. The dipshit took the flags out of the ground because they were in the way while he was digging. WTF? Ya know, we're really not all stupid, out here in the south and in the country, but...well...that guy really pushes the stereotype. Bastard. It's okay, though. The phone company is investigating. Once they are 100% positive who dug the ditch (the land is part of a huge area of acreage that's hard to separate unless you actually live on it), that person will be responsible for all costs associated with fixing it. Not just fixing the line, but also every single house call they had to make because of it. Because we have 2 phone lines, that's $65 per LINE, not just $65 to come to our house. Turns out, this cut affected at least a half dozen homes or more.

Next time you decide to dig for any reason - even to plant some weeds (I mean flowers - yeah, I forgot, other folks can grow more than crabgrass and briars), don't toss aside those flags. If you don't see any, CALL THE PHONE COMPANY AND POWER COMPANY AND GAS COMPANY AND ANYONE ELSE WHO BURIES UNDERGROUND CABLES!

On an interesting note, guess what I've quit? Tokin'. Yep, you saw that right. A helluva time to quit, huh? It came from necessity (as in I'm broker than that famous mountain), but it really hasn't bothered me. I figured I'd miss it, but I haven't. Somehow, by the grace of God or spirits or something, I've handled the last couple of weeks rather well. yay me!

...and in our next episode, we'll learn about Thing's graduation and actually convincing Big A that a dress is the most appropriate attire for the day - without having to fight about it. And why I'm not buying Thing a graduation gift.

Bowling

2007-05-28T11:39:00.000-04:00

He's home. Things are...okay, but it'll be awhile before the magic is back and his pedestal is now just a little planter in my head. I'm going through something weird - I want him attached to my hip all the time, but at the same time, I want to punish him, make him squirm...and there are a few things he can just forget about for a long, long time. But, we're still able to function normally, for the most part.

We went bowling Friday night. Little A went to spend the entire weekend with her "rich friend". She'll be home tonight. Big A wanted a friend to spend the night, Friday night, but the only one who wasn't previously engaged (never wait until Friday to invite someone over on Friday night!) is one of those people who's a lot of fun. In 2 or 3 hour spurts. So, I suggested going bowling.

I can't remember the last time we went as a family. In fact, I can't remember the last time Philip and I even went bowling. I cooked up a skillet of sloppy joes real quick; Big A fixed a small pot of teriaki rice; we ate in a hurry then scurried off hoping to beat the crowd at the bowling alley. Bowling used to be very "un-cool" around here. Since the place moved to the "western" part of town (where the country club is and all the expensive restaurants and the newest high-dollar mall just came in), bowling has now become an acceptable form of entertainment. We expected it to be swamped and to have to wait awhile for a lane. Ummm, we were wrong.

When we arrived, there were about 6 - 8 cars in the parking lot. Hmmm. We walk in and there are like 3 people bowling and a few people at the pool tables. We had them set us up on 2 lanes, alternating. Big A hasn't bowled in ages and had a hard time. My first game was surprising, as I actually managed to bowl more than my age. Philip's first game was disturbing, as he didn't even break 100 and he used to be a 200+ bowler and even bowled league for a year. The second game was much better. Big A bowled somewhere around a 50, which isn't bad since we couldn't convince her to granny-bowl (heaven forbid a 15 year old look like a little kid!). Philip bowled a 210. By some miracle, I bowled a 120-something or other. After driving 5 1/2 hours from Atlanta just a few hours earlier, Philip was beginning to ache by the third game. Since I'm sorta out of shape and have had limited use of my back due to the car accident in '05, my back and shoulders were on fire. But, we bowled the third game, anyway. Big A increased her score, again. Philip and didn't even break 100.

Fast forward to yesterday. Philip ended up having to do a side-job on Saturday (does he really think that was wise, under current circumstances?), so Saturday was just a waste of a day. But, we convinced him to take us bowling Sunday morning. We bowled 4 games, each; rented shoes; got a large pizza, a couple of hot dogs and several drinks; all for under $50. Not bad at all. My best game was a 164. Philip had a lousy day and only beat me twice (which is completely unheard of!). Big A managed to bowl 3 strikes, yesterday. YAAAAAYYYYYY!!!!! We had a blast.

Then it all changed. We had been invited to his folks' house. Of course, I wasn't told about that until we were about to leave the bowling alley. I have no idea why I feel ashamed to see them. I did nothing wrong. But I feel VERY awkward around them, now. If they know, does that make ME seem like a bad wife? I know, I know. My head isn't on straight about all this, but it's still really weird. As far as I know, only one person in the family knows, and he was very kind, yesterday. He never let on to Philip that he knew, either. Big A and I, neither one, wanted to stay (she has her own reasons), but all the guys started playing some game outside and that was that. We ended up being there for about 3 hours before Philip realized I had disappeared inside and was sitting by myself. We came home, got situated to watch the race, I cooked a quick and easy meal (pasta salad with tuna) and we just vegged the rest of the day.

Wow, that was a long post about not much of anything, huh? hahaha Oh well. Oh, I'm not going to the beach this week. Apparantly, *I* spent my gas money by going bowling. Ummm, yeah. Whatever.

Nails on a chalkboard

2007-05-25T10:08:00.000-04:00

Actually, nails on a chalkboard don't bother me at all. Usually, even that one piece of chalk that always squalls when used, doesn't phase me. It's a nifty thing, too, because I can mess with people but they won't come near me to get even because I keep clawing the chalkboard. You can get much the same result by running the tip of a prong of your fork across the face of a plate. If you "brush" fabric in my presence, use a broom to sweep carpet or do something else to make similar noises, I will become so traumatized, I may just vomit. I'm not sure why.

My mom called this morning. I didn't answer. She wants me to go to lunch. Even if I could, I don't want to. She still hasn't remembered my anniversary. She was also very rude to me on Mother's Day weekend. Not just to me, but to many people in her family - including her own mother. How long is a woman in menopause?! When I reach that point in my life, I believe I'll have an ovarian transplant. I know I was gutted a few years ago, but they left my ovaries so Philip wouldn't murder me...I mean, so I wouldn't go through early menopause. I'd be willing to donate an ovary to someone; do you think someone would donate one to me in 15 or 20 years?

Philip's coming home tonight. In case you missed it (which I hope you did - it was uglier than that dancing baby from whatever that show was with Calista Flockhart), he's on my shit list. I thought that a week apart would do us some good. Or some nonesense bullshit like that. I think I was wrong. Maybe. Instead, it gave me a week to think and allow the feelings to really fester. So, I'm still pissed at him. In fact, I think I'm angrier now than I was last week. I guess we'll be arguing all weekend. One of us may have to feign backache to explain why we're sleeping on the couch. Perhaps it shall be him.

Is it wrong to get some minor pleasure out of someone else's bad fortune? I know, I'm a heathen. I never claimed differently. When Philip went to pick up his rental car, Monday morning, they handed him keys to a 2005 Chevy Cavalier. Power steering, brakes, door locks. That was it. I don't even think there was a cassette or cd player in it. Definately no cruise control. Since the company foots the bill and doesn't really care what the guys drive, Enterprise is fucking retarded. Why not stick the guys in a high dollar rental? Duh! So, Philip protested. In fact, he was incredibly ugly. I almost felt sorry for the putz - I mean gentleman - getting the paperwork straightened out. They ended up putting Philip into an '07 Charger. SWEEEEEEEEEEEET. Well, almost. Apparantly, those cars are designed to represent a penis and be used for short periods of time. Without Viagra, they lose their thrill after 100 miles or so. And their comfort value. Poor Philip.

Once he got to Atlanta, it got worse. His boss (who looks like a cross between Kermit the Frog and a balding Ryan Secrest) must be mildly retarded. One of the other guys in the shop swears I'm right. He booked the hotel. Philip specifically asked for a smoking room. Bossman booked the reservation at a Fairfield Inn. Marriot owns Fairfields and a few other of the more recognizable hotels, apparantly. Marriot has changed their policy and provides NO smoking rooms, at all, in any hotel. Or so I was told. There's a $250 charge if they catch you smoking in your room. Not only that, but there was no frige or microwave in Philip's room. He was there a whole WEEK! Where was he supposed to put his sodas and bottled water? Or beer. Needless to say, that made Philip even more irritable. Poor guy.

To top it all off, when we talked last night, he wasn't feeling well. Flu-ish, I guess. And, today is test day. Wouldn't it suck to have to take a REALLY important test when you felt like shit? I would.

Perhaps that part is nerves. Or guilt. Whatever. Poor, poor Philip. Perhaps I'll download that song - "Poor Poor Pitiful Me" by...ummm... Linda Ronstadt. Had to think about that for a minute. I was just a kid when that came out. If you're younger than me and don't know that song, well...as my 13 year old would say, "suck my big fat hairy balls!" hahahaha! Needless to say, at present, I do NOT feel guilty for not feeling bad for Philip's misfortunes on this particular journey. Yes, I'm a bitch. But he was a bastard last week...so, call me evil all you want, trust me when I say he deserves it.

I have a sink full of dishes to wash (some by hand, even...ewwww!); laundry to fold, a litterbox to scoop, trash to take out; some last minute-save-the-girls'-asses-things (I was a bad mum - I let them smoke in the house this week...they were gonna go outside and try to sneak 'em, anyway)...and I'm not sure what else. Big A has an appointment for a shot this afternoon, so I'll have to fly out on my broom around 2-ish. I hope they have special parking for brooms. Just so long as it's not on carpet.

Like I know what I'm doing...oh puuuhleeeaazzee

2007-05-24T15:08:00.000-04:00

A family member/friend and I are are starting a new blog. Yeah, it's about NASCAR. Who would have guessed, huh? HAHAHAHA

It's just in the developmental stages since I want to fuck around with the template and add backgrounds and all that snazzy stuff that I have absolutely no knowledge of. It should be fun. We'll be posting for real, soon enough. I may put a bit here and a bit there until I get it tweaked, but that all depends on how long it takes me to pull my hair out. Yes, there's a "test blog" hiding in the background that's keeping me from erasing the real blog. I think.

Anyway, that's what's up with me. What about y'all? I'm still reading and checking in on you all. Special shout out to Lady K as she's been dealing with some pretty icky health problems. When we get her back to 100%, I say we all head to the desert for a party at her place. I'll bring the beer.

Discrimination Today

2007-05-22T11:30:00.000-04:00

Recently, I made a funny post about Curves Gym. Amichai made an interesting comment. He asked why it was okay to have an all woman's gym, but it'd never fly if one tried to open an all men's gym. Or something close to that. Amichai's right.

My daughters asked me, recently, what was the NAACP. I explained a little bit, then realized I didn't know as much about it as I thought so I did a little research. Before you blast me for the following statements, THINK ABOUT THIS! I see how much good that organization has done for so many years, but now, it's another discriminatory group, by definition of discrimination.

Philip and I discussed the affirmative action movement that began in the 1970's (okay, became popular and legal). It was truly an essential need at the time, as the United States was still operating with blinders and limiting its workforce to certain "types" of people, and had been doing so since the time of our forefathers. Keep in mind, it wasn't just ethnicities being targeted, but also women. Times have changed. Is affirmative action still a necessity in this new century?

We've discussed the ACLU. This organization is supposed to work for any person who has been (or is seemingly being) discriminated against. While the ACLU is seen in lots of high profile legal cases where race, ethnic background, religious affiliations and gender are integral parts of the event, it is only very rarely called upon in when a caucasion male is on the hot seat.

Now don't go gettin' your panties in a twist. I know that the south is famous for the Ku Klux Klan, but I gotta tell you guys, it's NOT as prevalent in today's society and a general concensus would probably tell you that those of us who've had family members embedded deep within the KKK are probably pretty ashamed of those members. Despite all the hatred the KKK spewed(s), it still falls back to an ageless establishment: one group of people who unite together in order to oppress another group of people.

I'm not saying the NAACP and ACLU are "as bad" as the KKK, I'm merely pointing out some similarities. If you hate me for this article, so far, then you obviously need to finish reading it or you can just go right on with your knee-jerk assumption that I'm racist. Or a biggot. Or whatever. I really don't care. The entire purpose of this article is to point out that racism, bigotry, discrimination, what-have-you is affecting everyone. Not just in the US, either. Not just in the workforce, not just in organized sports (there's a girl on the local high school's wrestling AND football team - because SHE IS THAT GOOD), not just in the everyday things we see. It's everywhere.

Let's move on to one of my favorite subjects. ehem... Organized religion. While I've not been to every church, synagogue, mosque, temple...I have been to my fair share of Christian churches. I live in the south, remember? I've been to Catholic school, which included regular "sessions" in the church. I've been to United Church of Christ churches, Baptist (general convention AND independant), Methodist, Lutheran and probably about any other of the Christian houses of worship you can think of. I'm not a fan. I've listened, indepth, to the sermons and have watched the preachers, priests, reverands facial expressions while preaching AND while greeting and guiding their followers. This won't make me popular, but I've found organized religion to be one the most discriminatory unions in history. Not "cuz the bible tells me so", but because of so many ingrained beliefs that people have carried on, generation to generation, without ever being held accountable by The Church. If you don't believe me, go to 10 different churches over 20 weeks (yep, 2 services per church), of all different affiliations, and then walk away telling me that each one of them was completely accepting of all people. Eh, I still wouldn't believe you.

I'm not saying every church does this, but the majority do. My grandparents were part of a group of elders in their church. At one point, there was a mixed race couple who wanted to join. They'd been coming to the church for over a year, but they were ready to become full members, including the obligatory 10% tithe (to be a member of that church, you had to follow that by-law). They had an infant and a toddler they wished to have baptized in the church. The elders had to meet and discuss this amongst themselves, as they do with all people who want to join their church. They chose NOT to admit this family and refused to baptize the babies. Of course you know why. You saw it coming.

Discrimination is at its worst in history, now, in my opinion. All this "politically correct" bullshit is driving me up the wall. Tell ya what, if you want me to call you something other than a person, ie: black, white, asian, hispanic, latino, man, woman, etc., let me know. Personally, I prefer to call you all friends. Yeah, I know, I have black friends, white friends, asian friends, Indian friends, Catholic friends, agnostic friends, etc. etc. etc., but at the end of the day, you all look alike to me.

Now, whom do I think is the most discriminated against in today's society? The white MAN. If anyone else cries discrimination, there is an organized group ready to jump to the frontlines and defend them to the ends of the earth. As a woman, if I feel slighted, I could find a dozen organizations to rally my cause. If you are of a different ethnicity or whatever (not making light of that, sincerely), you will be able to find someone willing to take up your plight, as well. I guarantee that! But, in today's society, if a caucasion male were to say he felt discriminated against, he'd be laughed out of society. Why? Men are equally as oppressed as women. As politically INcorrect as this will sound, it is only the white man who will find no followers. It seems that's against the rules. So, if a white man feels he's being treated unfairly, what can he do? Well, I suppose he could claim to be gay or part Cherokee or this, that or the other, but if says he feels persecuted simply because he's white or male, someone's going to assume HE is the oppressor. Foul ball, Babe.

If we, as a society, want full equality, we have to treat everyone equally. Nah, I don't mean you can't dislike crazy Aunt Betty because she's a bitch. It's okay to dislike your boss (no matter what his persuasion is) just because he's a prick. Hell, it's perfectly okay for you to dislike me because I have a big mouth and am not afraid to use it...or because my spelling sucks and my grammar is worse. At the end of the day, though, if you limit yourself to only one "group" of people, you're missing out on a helluva lot.

One last thing: there IS one remaining place where "the white man (or woman)" is portrayed as "the norm": the media. Television, mostly. If it pisses you off, write to the networks and ask for more diversity in programming. I have no qualms with that, whatsoever.

Needs

2007-05-19T07:55:00.000-04:00

Yorkshire Pudding mentioned "nothingness" in his most recent blog entry. But he leans more towards needing tranquility than sounding distant.

I'm longing for tranquility. I'm longing for the return of normalcy. I'm longing for a shoulder, yet, at the same time, aloneness. Well, except for an occassional seagull, sandpiper and a flash of porpoise frolicking in the distance.

Philip leaves for Atlanta Monday morning. The timing couldn't be worse. We need to be together right now. We need to clear the air. We need to try to "fix" a major problem. In the process, I desparately need to go to the ocean. Alone. For one day. But, I can't do it tomorrow - because we need each other. I can't do it next week - because he'll be gone and I'm "in charge" and needed at home.

*sigh*
__________________________

an aside: I checked my horoscope and this is what it says:

Negotiations can be tricky things, and having to outsmart someone else is no fun. But you may be too eager to make things easier for another person today. To get what you want, you need to put that impulse aside. Look out for number one, and don't feel bad about it. The other person -- who may be perfectly nice and very appealing -- doesn't need you to act as her or his guardian angel.
Only Caro may realize how ironic this is, but suffice it to say, it may have just hit the nail on the head.

Lovelies

2007-05-11T09:00:00.001-04:00

Big A and Philip

that dress!

Little A and my dad at Harker's Island (NC) at beginning of the Noreaster - yeah, we're all nuts...we go TO the beach when a storm's coming in. Evacuations? Oh please!

that windblown look

OH. MY. GOD!

2007-05-10T14:45:00.001-04:00

Well, how'd'ya like them apples? Or should I say Budweisers...
In a news conference on ESPN, Dale Earnhardt Junior made it official today and publicly announced his resignation from DEI. Dale Junior was particularly humble when speaking of the team his father started with wife Teresa. He did a great job of not tossing out bitter comments towards his stepmother, who may seemingly have been the thorn in Junior's side for the past few seasons. No, I didn't read that or pull it from a quote from anywhere - that is MY opinion.

He will continue with DEI throughout this season, but is considered a "free agent", after. Of course he's entertaining offers from a number of team owners, but Dale has not yet named names concerning any offers made, so far. He said in his press conference that he would like to continue driving a Chevrolet. There has been lots of chatter about Junior joining Joe Gibbs Racing because of Junior's deep respect for Joe Gibbs along with Junior's fandom of The Washington Redskins (Gibbs is head coach). If Junior were to join Gibbs, he would be joining a well established team with infamous driver, Tony Stewart, along with the two barely-beyond-rookie sensations, Denny Hamlin and J.J. Yeley. As Philip is a huge fan of Tony Stewart (can you see me rolling my eyes?), this would be exciting to him. Philip has never really shown a lot of interest in Dale Junior, but has expressed his sincere respect for the young man. Imagine how exciting it would be to have FOUR highly competitive and successful racers on the Gibbs team!

Other Chevrolet teams who may be wooing Junior are Hendrick Motor Sports, employing such famous drivers as Jeff Gordon, Kyle Bush, Jimmie Johnson and Casey Mears. (y'all, I've gotten tired of linking EVERY single driver, so...just go here if you want info on a particular driver) This, however, could prove to be a problem. NASCAR is putting a limit on the number of teams one individual may own. The official decision has yet to be clarified, although Hendrick and Roush Racing (Jack Roush, aka The Cat in the Hat, runs Fords) have been put on notice that they may need to do some "revamping" because of the number of teams they control. Richard Childress Racing is a big possibility considering Dale Senior drove for Childress for years, before starting his own team - DEI. Childress employs Kevin Harvick, Jeff Burton and Clint Boyer. Other Chevy teams are Ginn Racing, Hall of Fame Racing (co-owners being none other than Roger Staubach and Troy Aikman), Haas CNC, and the virtually unknown Furniture Row Racing - who race a very limited season with driver Kenny Wallace.

While it would thrill me to no end to see Junior to move to a Dodge team - Evernham, specifically - that is probably the most unlikely scenario out there. The chances of Junior leaving Chevrolet are slim to none.

Last night, Rich Brenner prophesized the following:

*Dale Junior will bring his own team (JR Motorsports) to the Nextel Cup Series.
*He will bring Budweiser with him.
*He will bring his cousin and favorite crew chief Tony Eury, Jr. with him.
*He will bring Martin Truex, Jr. with him.

If that were to happen, DEI would be crippled. In today's press conference, though, Junior alluded to none of this. In fact, he said he felt DEI would remain successful and that he wished them all the best. With his interests (holdings, etc.) in DEI, Junior will never be able to completely "disown" them. That doesn't mean he has to race for them - or even like some of the higher-ups. Keep in mind, what Brenner said is just speculation. Or so we're told.

WOW! Just...wow.

Why do old ladies...?

2007-04-27T12:05:00.000-04:00

have the exact same hairstyle?

dye their hair blue?

begin talking louder - even those who hear just fine?

call any woman/girl under 40 a "little girl"?

wear double-knit polyester, even in summer, and complain about the temperature?

buy new seasonal coats every year, but still wear the same one they bought in 1955?

start wearing "housecoats" and "shifts"?

own a dozen different sizes of curlers but only use the hotdog sized ones?

preach to us the importance of healthy living as they batter and fry chicken?

wear bright red cream rouge?

complain about seeing over the steering wheel but insist on driving huge cars?

know just how much sugar to put in the coffee they secretly sneak to the grandkids?

sneak treats to the grandkids, then lecture the parents on the same kids' weights?

buy extravagant gifts for their friends' kids' and grandkids' showers (wedding, baby, etc.), but give their own kids and grandkids toasters and coasters and aprons for their showers and such?

tell the kids they love their gifts, then store them in a closet until they "re-gift" them to us?

create extravagant gardens while complaining about their arthritis - and blaming it on everything BUT gardening?

reek of Bengay but complain about someone's perfume?

just know when it's going to rain or snow?

But, honestly, the best one of all...why do old ladies...

...

...

...

...

give the best hugs of all?

Curves

2007-01-21T16:18:00.000-05:00

To my new co-workers' surprise, I'm the cut-up at work. The one who dresses in true "business casual", keeps a pleasant smile on her face at all times, sounds genuinely concerned when someone is denied a rapid refund loan, the one who can schmooze with the district manager without ever batting an eye or losing her composure for fear of making a bad impression...I am the woman that other women hate, at work.

I'm as fake as the Clinton $3 bill. As pristine as Paris Hilton on The Simple Life. As conservative as Rosie O'Donnel in her fight with Donald Trump. But, I look the part. Hence my co-workers' surprise.

Each morning, we put out great bouquets of green and white balloons to adorn our little corner of the strip mall.
We put more out as the day goes by, as the wind constantly blows them into the brick pylons, bursting them so they sound like a drive-by shooting. Each morning, I am assigned to carry them outside. Each morning, I am reminded what it must sound like at a Curves meeting. Thighs and buttocks warbling. Machines groaning at their enormous task. Spandex trying to expand excrutiatingly beyond its tensile-strength limit. Each morning I snicker as I carry our mass of warbling-wobbling-gyrating latex globes out the doors.

The other day, my boss asked me why I was snickering. Mind you, none of us are small women. None of us are enormous, but we could all definately benefit from a real Curves meeting or three. But, am I delicate about my reply? Please! If you have to ask that, you obviously haven't read enough from my overly verbose entries. I finally was able to quit laughing long enough to say, "THIS is what it must sound like at a Curves gym!" For one moment, I was terror-stricken by the silence. Then, just as I was preparing to crawl under a rock, the entire back room broke out into boisterous laughter. The following day, I continued my fun-picking, assuring my fellow veluptuous workmates that this is all in good fun. Just then, a balloon popped. Our back room echoes terribly, so a popping balloon is tantamount to a grenade exploding at close range. Everyone freezes. They all look at me (perhaps they thought I'd done it on purpose, however, that would have been impossible - funny, but impossible), waiting for the next smart-ass remark out of my mouth.

"OH. MY. GOD! THE. SPANDEX. JUST. REBELLED!"
My co-workers love me. Most of the time.

We're going on a honeymoon...19 years later

2006-12-19T23:25:00.000-05:00

Philip won the trip to Mexico. I'm not sure if I ever finished the story about his possible change in jobs, but suffice it to say, they made it worth his while to stay at the old job. I think he's happy. I KNOW he's happy that he won the trip to Mexico. He's been "in the running" for over 15 years. He has "just missed it", for some inner-political reasons withing Isuzu and Philip's dealership, every single year. He pretty much told Isuzu, last year, that they could take their trips and shove them up their ass. He was tired of being told that it was down to being between him and one other tech, then they tell him that the customer service rating (of the entire dealership - not Philip's personal rating, which is always excellent, which is surprising since he can be a total ass even to his customers...hahaha) isn't high enough. One guy said he was a poor loser and Philip told him it wasn't that he felt he was "losing" anything, he just felt they were sending sketchy messages by telling him he was "in the running", when they already knew that the customer satisfaction wasn't high enough for someone from this dealership to be eligible.

Okay, so where are we going? We're going to Aventura Spa Palace in Cancun. Check out their website. I think we may get spoiled. Hopefully, we won't run into any problems. The resort is supposed to be very safe and is geared towards Americans travelling on honeymoons and such. Everything in included. I mean EVERYTHING! We even get spending money from Isuzu for this trip. I need to find out if it's standard to tip staff - I'm told no, but I dunno.

We never had a honeymoon when we got married. Okay, okay, we did stay overnight at a nice hotel and ordered room service. That was it, though. The next day, we moved into our first rental house. Our landlords were old fashioned and wouldn't let us move a stick of furniture in until we were actually married. How cute is that? This trip is just for Philip and myself. No one under 18 is allowed at the resort. No offense to my kids or any others, but that will be fucking heaven! Imagine, an entire week without hearing a single child beg, cry, plead or bellow. Except for the plane, I guess. I'm sure we'll get stuck on the aisle, with some 10 year old, travelling alone, sitting at the window and airsick. That'd be our luck. Hah! Whatever, we'll still have a great time.

I'm ready to go, now! Well, after we get our passports - which we're off to do tomorrow, if Philip's mom can find his birth certificate. I have no idea why she still has it, but if she does, she WILL find it. That woman never loses anything. Not even an argument. NEVER.

I'm not sure how much I'll be around for the next several days. Yesterday was my birthday and I ended up cleaning house, going to lunch with my mom, spending my birthday money (and then some) on Christmas presents. Big A's boyfriend is coming over either tomorrow afternoon or Thursday. Tomorrow is the last day of school for the kids until Jan. 3rd. Friday, we have 2 parties to attend. Saturday, Philip has a party to attend. Sunday we'll be getting the rest of our t's crossed and i's dotted. Monday, of course, will be jam packed from sunup to sundown. I hope you all have a VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS!! Take care, everyone.
xoxo

Wishes and dishes

2006-12-13T11:20:00.000-05:00

In my last post, I discussed gifts and such. Alkelda gave the cutest reply, discussing her daughter's "wishlists" and it made me think of a favorite song of mine. No, the two have nothing in common. Although, I do sometimes wish for a classic Camaro.

Wishlist
by Pearl Jam

I wish I was a neutron bomb for once I could go off
I wish I was a sacrifice but somehow still lived on
I wish I was a sentimental ornament you hung on
The Christmas tree I wish I was the star that went on top
I wish I was the evidence I wish I was the grounds
For 50 million hands upraised and open toward the sky

I wish I was a sailor with someone who waited for me
I wish I was as fortunate as fortunate as me
I wish I was a messenger and all the news was good
I wish I was the full moon shining off a Camaro's hood

I wish I was an alien at home behind the sun
I wish I was the souvenir you kept your house key on
I wish I was the pedal brake that you depended on
I wish I was the verb 'to trust' and never let you down

I wish I was a radio song, the one that you turned up
I wish...
I wish...
_________________________________

Dishes...

For the past few weeks, the house has stayed spotless. Of course, once we got it spotless, it was much easier to keep it that way. Until this weekend. I have been working dilligently to keep things picked up, dishes done, laundry done, bathrooms clean, etc. But, ya know, I got sorta tired of doing it all, so I started leaving a few little things "undone", to see what would happen. I figured if the trash began to overflow in the kitchen, someone (namely Philip) might take it upon him or herself to get it up and take it out. I even thought if I'd just leave the full and tied up bag by the back door, someone (namely Philip) would just open the door, walk down the whole 6 steps, lean over the railing, lift the outside trash bin lid and drop the bag in. That hasn't happened. There is now a loose bag of trash, sitting next to the overflowing trashcan, sitting next to some boxes and large, non-stinky items. In the kitchen.

I thought if I'd place the cats inside my youngest's bedroom, and let them howl at her, she may come out and see that their food and water bowls were empty. She only bitched that I'd let the cats in her room. I did feed the cats and fill their water bowl. I can't very well leave them like I can the trash.

I thought if I left the dishwasher door open, so one trips over it on the way to the cupboards, someone would take the initiative to unload it. That didn't happen.

I thought if I folded and put away all of Philip's and my laundry, except for the few things that needed to be hung in the closet, he would take the initiative to hang those few pieces. Those few pieces now lay in our bedroom floor and he keeps bitching because he keeps tripping over them while trying to get to the gun cabinet. I haven't picked them up, nor will I.

My point is, while I do stay home, and am responsible for most of the housework, there are limits. My husband is not completely off the hook just because he works, then is gone most of each weekend. If he can find time to shoot Bambi, then he can make time to take out the trash. If I do every bit of the laundry (the girls do their own - long story), including washing his hunting clothes with this scent-free detergent and these horrid "nature-scented" dryer sheets, then he should at least be willing to hang a few things here and there AND put away his hunting clothes. What good is it for me to wash them and dry them and make sure they smell like the outdoors (see: dirt), he should put them away somewhere where they won't be sitting next to or on top of the other clothes that have been washed with Arm & Hammer detergent and Downy (with a hint of Febreeze).

The girls are at an age where a few chores are important. Unloading the dishwasher, feeding and watering the animals and helping to keep common areas picked up are good chores that I think most every kid has or has had to do. They are NOT unreasonable requests. They also should not have to be reminded to do these chores when they know they are supposed to be a part of the daily routine. The girls also know that if the dishwasher does not get unloaded when it's supposed to (or even after I have to remind them, again and again), I won't do dishes. If the dishwasher doesn't get unloaded for 2 days, every dish in our house gets dirty and fills both sinks, etc. etc. When I'm asked "what's for dinner?", I reply, "I can't cook until I have some clean dishes". This happened last night. My youngest is cute as hell, but is sometimes not incredibly bright. She said, "Mama, we can wait until you get the dishes done, if you want to. Or we can call Daddy and ask him to bring a pizza home." I believe fire shot straight out of my ears. I'm almost sure smoke trailed from my nostrils. I may have even pissed myself, but I don't recall having to bring out the mop, so I'm not sure.

The house is a mess. Except for my side of the end table, the Christmas tree that I decorated and all around it, my side of our bedroom, and the cat's common areas (around their food & water bowls, the litter box and my side of the bed, where they sleep when there's nowhere else to curl up because of a trail of clutter). I wonder how long I can hold out before someone realizes what 's going on. Actually, I just wonder how long I can hold out. The kitchen's starting to smell funny and I need one of the shirts that's in that unhung pile in my bedroom.

Coming tomorrow, if I manage to get online: how we are all trying to help my in-law's handyman make a Christmas for his sister's children, who he is raising while his sister is in drug re-hab.

umm, errrr, uuuhhh...yeah, that's it

2006-12-11T10:28:00.000-05:00

The Fox & The Hound 2 is about to be released. I'm totally stoked. I LOVED the original. Yes, it made me cry. Animals make me cry much easier than people do.

I found these cuties at the bookstore, recently. In case you’re too lazy to click the link, they’re Happy Bunny keyboard stickers. I don’t have a picture of them on my keyboard, yet, but suffice it to say, we HAD TO HAVE THEM. They are absolutely adorable! I found Hello Kitty ones for Nonny.

When our friends were here from "out of town", Dave shot himself a big ol' buck. Philip has cut the antlers and will have them mounted on a nice wooden thingy with a brass tag on it. Philip went yesterday to butcher the buck. It had to hang for 2 weeks for whatever reason it is that meat has to cure unless you salt it, bla bla bla. He came home with the most beautiful burger I've ever seen (for venison) and lots and lots of cube steak. We're stocked for at least 2 months or more with "red meat". All I'll have to buy in the "meat" department, now, is fish, pork chops and chicken, on occassion. I owe a big thanks to our friend "Little Jackie" for relieving me from my normal role as butcher's helper.

Speaking of food, I've discovered this new thing at Wal-Mart. It's Southwest Black Bean and White Corn Salsa. Sam's Choice stuff. I don't usually even care a lot for salsa because I have to eat around the onions and peppers. This shit is the bomb, so I don't eat around ANYTHING in it. It's a wee bit sweet with just enough spice (the mild version) to make you smile. It's good to just dip chips into, better on tacos or nachos, and absofuckinglutely awesome mixed in chili. A 26 oz. jar only lasts about 2 days in this house.

I'm working on decorating Christmas trees. It's a long story that I'll share sometime in the near future. Suffice it to say, I finally bought a second large tree (artificial and it was on sale WAAAYYYY cheap!), in hopes of avoiding all the drama this year. It just blew up in my face. More drama than last year. I give up.

I'm so tired of "Mama, I want [whatever] for Christmas!" It wouldn't bug me quite so much if we had more money to spend. I'd get them everything they asked for if I could. But, I've already told them that it was gonna be a very lean Christmas. They'll each get my birthday and Christmas money (usually $100/each - giving each the girls $100 for Christmas). I've purchased a few small things, here and there and I'm going to make them each a quilt and matching pillowcase. I'm hoping to find enough leftover to buy them each a small "boom box" with CD and cassette player/recorder and a nice hairdryer for them to share. I also hope to find a way to buy them a gift card to the local FYE, so they can buy themselves at least 1 CD, each. For fun, though, I've decided to split the money up in creative ways. I'll have the hundred dollar bills broken down into smaller denominations and wrap each bit separately. Maybe a couple of twenties hidden inside great big boxes; tens in cookie tins (tens in tins - ain't that cute?!); fives inside a little change purse for each of them, then hang one dollar bills from the tree. It might not be much, but it should be fun.

Short shorts

2006-12-06T23:17:00.000-05:00

I'm still afk for awhile, I think. Thought I'd share a couple of short tales from the last few weeks, though:

Our company was divine. We enjoyed them tremendously and are looking forward to next year.

We had 20 people (including us) for Thanksgiving dinner. Philip deep-fried the turkey and it was absolutely to die for. He was very proud of himself.

We had everyone say something they were thankful for - yeah, I know, a bit cheezy - and I have never been so tickled as I was when I heard Big A's boyfriend's thanks and Little A's own thanks. Jacob said he was "most thankful for [his] Doodlebug", then pointed at Big A. The whole family did the "aaawwwwwwww", then laughed. Then Little A threw one under the radar and said , "I am thankful for having a best friend with a rich dad". We all rolled. I guess it is sort of shallow, but she's 13. Thirteen year old girls ARE shallow. Aren't they?

I'm off to put up my Christmas tree. At least get the lights on them. I've decided to only put up 1000 lights, this year. I should have them up by...hmmmm .... maybe 2am.

xoxo to you all!

Why I work better under deadlines

2006-11-22T06:15:00.000-05:00

I've always been a procrastinator. For as long as I can remember. I've also always been a slob. So, here it is. C&D come in tonight, but they wouldn't mind if I didn't clean my house at all - well, ya know, except for maybe doing the dishes and cleaning up the dog poop and making sure the bathroom is clean, but you get the idea. Tomorrow, however, is another story. If I don't get the house clean (and I mean shiny-eat-off-the-floor-clean), then I'll have to listen to my mother-in-law bitch at me in front of everyone.

This morning, however, is the least favorite part of it all. I will be...
*gasp!* *eek!* *eeeeeewwwwwww* *whimper*
at the laundromat. Yes, I have a washer and dryer that work just fine (don't jinx myself...don't jinx ... don't jinx) but comforters don't fit in them. At least not queen size comforters. Then there's that little thing about how I have a growing pile of laundry in my bedroom floor. Oops.

But, it will all be done by afternoon, then I can put my feet up, make the kids cook dinner, take a short nap and get ready to head to the airport. I will work better, today, than I have in the past 2 weeks. Simply because it can no longer be put off and, well, because I've always done my best work at the 23rd hour.

I'll probably be AFK for a few days. I hope you all miss me immensely. I hope that you all have a very happy Thanksgiving, too. For those of you who don't celebrate Thanksgiving -why not? I've turned two Brits to my way of thinking; why not you?

T'was the week of Thanksgiving, and all through the house...

2006-11-20T09:10:00.000-05:00

Countdown:
60 hours +/- a few minutes
They'll be here! I get to traverse (I like that word. You can type it, completely, with only the left hand. Without having to move it from the keyboard at all. If you type the proper way, that is. No pecking) the airport for the first time in years. I'd forgotten how big it is, although, to some (those of you who've actually gotten to travel in your lifetime), I'm sure this airport looks like a blip on the horizon. A blip to me, is the local small airport for private planes and the likes that is actually smaller (inside the whole building, including hangars) than the newest Wal-Mart that went up. So, to my friends, they'll probably enjoy that it's only a short jog from the gate to the baggage claim area - where the "Meet and Greet" area is, and probably only a short distance to the car that will probably have to be parked in Timbuktu. I believe we'll allow Philip to go get the car and bring it up to the building. I'm sure he'll consider it a great privelage.

The girls and I are going to brave the laundry mat this Wednesday. Twenty-five dollars worth of quarters in my pocket, the ginormous jugs of detergent and fabric softener, every comforter & bedspread I own, and all the clothes that have magically appeared in my laundry room floor, in tow. I haven't been to the laundry mat in years, so I hope it's not as scary as I remember. I hope there's a folding table available. I hope I remember to separate the reds from the whites and the denims from the linens. I hope the girls won't lose their minds when they realize they have to actually HANG some things up. I can already hear the "but Mooooooommmmm! Whyyyy(ne) do we have to hang them up? They'll get wrinkled in the car." No, they won't. Not enough to hurt anything once we get them home and hung straight in the closets. "Trust me, it'll all be worth it to you, next week", is what I'll say. I don't even believe myself when I say that. I get to make pecan pies when I get home. Six, to be exact. Since Beamon was sweet enough to give me the pecans (already shelled!), he gets 3 of them. Well, he'll probably end up with 2, if he's lucky. Roger and Dean will definately steal one if they find out there's pie at the lodge.

The menu is complete and all my grocery shopping is done, except for the fresh veggies for the relish tray. I'll probably pick those up on the way home from the laundry. I found the stuff that goes in my mom's steam vac thingy and read the directions. Philip will be doing that, Wednesday afternoon. I'm not very good with gadgets, so I leave the scary ones to him. A steam vac is scary to me. Water plus electricity? C'mon! Le Mutt is beginning to get used to outside. He got a 16 foot tie-out chain, yesterday and spent the majority of the day hooked to his new doghouse. He really hates collars and chains. He will go back out as soon as I feel like putting on pants. (I'm actually writing this much earlier than it will be posted...I'm in my pajama top and skivvies, right now) Le Mutt's doghouse is situated just far enough away from Blackie's, that the two of them can get within a foot or two of each other, when they're both chained up. Blackie is beginning to get used to Le Mutt, but grudgingly. I'm pretty sure she's pissed at him because HE is the reason she has to go back on a chain. But, she's lucky; she gets a 25 foot chain. Of course, she's 3 times his size, too.

By the time you see this, I'll probably already be showered, dressed, have the dogs chained back up, have about 8mg too much antihistimine in my system, have unloaded and loaded the dishwasher, started a load of laundry, made a quick phone call, folded a load of laundry, cleaned off my desk, packed up the 3 boxes that are about ready to go out to the storage facility (I refuse to say "bus"), taken the trash out, and scooted out the door to run a few errands. 0'dark-thirty in the morning is just an evil time to have to open one's eyes.

Le Mutt

2006-11-16T10:22:00.000-05:00

Is it wrong that I allow Le Mutt to lick the pan with the leftover mashed potatoes clean? I wash each pot and pan in the dishwasher, yall, so don't get all grossed out. But, having a dog to help along the way is so much more pleasing than I could have ever imagined. When he is done, the pan can go straight to the dishwasher, because there are no stuck on crusties that have to be washed in the sink, before transferring to the dishwasher. Yes, I'm one of those people. I "rinse" the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. Well, sometimes. When I feel like it. When I pretend I have the cleaning-OCD.

Le Mutt is currently making me laugh hard enough to neccesitate a bathroom run. He has determined that the little hand broom is an enemy. The big broom is an enemy, as well, but it's not wise to mess with the large broom, as it smacks back if he attacks it (while I'm sweeping, that is). The small broom, however, is easy to "chase". It is very dormant and allows the chase to go on and on, with nary a peep, to ward off an attack.

Le Mutt has now changed strategies. Apparently the small broom has lost its appeal, as it won't bark back (or hiss, like the cats). At this very moment, his current nemesis is the piece of cardboard he managed to tear off the shoe box that was (stupidly) left in the hall. While it may not hiss or bark, it makes creaking noises when he chews on it. It also floats when he tosses it into the air, then retrieves it to start all over, again.

One of his cutest shenanigins is to find underwear or socks that have managed to fall out of a laundry hamper. Or ones that are in the laundry basket with the holes on the side. Le Mutt decided, recently, that he wanted to wear a thong . He found a lovely little pink thong with a big "S" on the front, all Superman style. He posititioned it just so, then stuck his head in one leg, his bum in the other leg, then proceeded to run amock through the house. I so wish I'd had the camera nearby. I now know that the washing machine does not eat the second sock to a pair. Le Mutt does.

journal type entry: ignore: just venting

2006-11-16T06:00:00.000-05:00

you know, it's days like these when I really wonder how I've kept my sanity all these years. Big A is home "sick". She sounded stuffy, this morning and she had all that crappy testing done, yesterday, which included having warm and cold air blown into her ears to disrupt the normal equilibrium. That can't be fun. I'm sure she feels weird, today, but she feels good enough to want to get on the computer; to be "ready for everyone to get home from school so [she] can talk on the phone"; good enough to hang blinds the wrong way, without listening to anything I say. The fucking blinds are broken because SHE wanted them down and didn't know how to do it so just yanked them off the wall. NOW she wants them back on? C'mon, dammit! And, NO, we are not going to "just go buy another set". Not unless she pays for them.

Mother...what can I say? I guess something's going on either at work or at home and she can't blame it on anyone or yell at anyone, so I get to be the scapegoat. She bought the stuff to strip the color out of Little A's hair. I already told her that the chick at Sally's told me that you have to immediately re-color when you strip it. Mama swears you don't. Mama swears it won't turn orange. Until she reads the back of the box and it clearly says, "this product will NOT bring hair back to its normal color. Be prepared to re-color, immediately, with a shade that is as close as possible to your normal hair color and use a color with extra conditioning. We recommend...." and of course, they recommend their brand, but I don't use their brand because it DOESN'T condition as well as the brand I always use. So, I tell Mama, okay, we'll do it. Just let Little A pick the color she wants to re-do her hair in. I'm not going to waste my money on a color she might not like. What does my mother do? She says, "Well, I guess I'll just leave it over at my house in case anyone in your house decides to get rid of all those nasty colors YOU let them use. I was only trying to help. I wish I'd known you weren't going to do this before I wasted ten dollars." Huh? What? At what time did I say we WOULDN'T use it? What makes her think we don't appreciate the gesture? Why is it my "fault" that Little A wants to go back to a more natural color? She wanted it black, it's black. Big A wanted hers black, it's black. It's not purple or green or blue or fuschia. And, ya know, while we're at it, why do you care what color they dye their hair? It's THEIR hair. What's wrong with a little bit of rebellion? It's not like I'm taking them for tattoos or anything that drastic. And, ya know, they're my fucking kids. I get the say-so as to what they can and can't do. We're not in the 50's anymore. Hell, we're not even in the 20t h century, anymore. Kids deserve to have a little bit of a say-so in their appearance.

The dog...has to go out soon. I can't get anything done. We locked him in the bathroom with a puddle pad and bowl of water and favorite toy. Big A got pissed at me because the blinds wouldn't go up the way she wanted them to...really?...you don't say?...so she let Wrinkles out of the bathroom. She says that she didn't think I needed him locked up anymore. Ummm, whatever gave her that idea? When I said, "Lord, it's so much easier to get stuff done when he's out from under my feet for awhile!"? Yeah. That's it. My god this is the most passive-aggressive family I've ever known. Even more than Philip's family, I think. That's really bad.

and where the hell is my other pack of cigarettes? dammit! I need to smoke, NOW.

Around the house in 8 days

2006-11-14T11:15:00.000-05:00

I need help. I mean, professional help. I'm thinking about hypnosis. Yes, for real. I'm not kidding. I've thought about it for years, now. I'm sure my husband would be thrilled and find a way to get our insurance to pay for it.

I want to suffer from OCD. The cleaning kind, not the checking books and turning lights on and off exactly 5 times kind.

I want to be that woman that all other women talk shit about, but secretly long to be as organized as; as neat as; as content to polish the floors and regularly oil the oak cabinets to a high shine as. I want to be that woman. I want to be thrilled to pick up the broom and dust pan. I want to be excited to wake up in the morning, knowing the house is immaculate but still looking for something that could use a quick polish or dusting.

I hate packing and unpacking even more than I hate cleaning. I think. And that's what my next few days are going to involve. Since the storage building

has arrived and is in place, I have no more excuses. I should be excited, as well. I can get the Christmas decorations, boxes of fabric and transmission out of my bathtub. I can finally find a place for all those kitchen gadgets we just had to have, over the years, but take up too much space in the kitchen (but we never use, anymore). I can remove the what-nots from the antique hope chest and put all the fabric I actually will use inside of it. I can put the 3 sewing machines that will never work again, unless I pay a small fortune to have them repaired, inside the storage building.

After I do all that, then I can joyfully mop and polish the floor;
steam clean the living room carpet; clean out the laundry room and mop the floor in there; organize the kitchen cupboards; take a bath in my garden tub that I have not seen in over a year!

On a happy note, Le Mutt has learned to pee on the puppy pads. Now we have to convince him to poop on them, too. It will come in time. Hopefully it will be in time for Thanksgiving so no one is having to keep on shoes and watch their step.

Name That Tune

2006-11-11T01:08:00.000-05:00

Actually, name the artist. No cheating! Yeah, you probably have to be over 30 to know many of these and you have to have listened to a myriad of genres to guess some. Try to get as many as you can without cheating. Once you've finished, AFTER posting your guesses, you can go here for the full lyrics.

Sad Eyes

We've Got Tonight

The Boys of Summer

Without You

Bluest Eyes in Texas

He Stopped Loving Her Today

Shannon

Total Eclipse of the Heart

(I Want To) Kiss You All Over

Kiss From A Rose

Stone Cold

Turn, Turn, Turn (this song is also an adaptation of a passage from the book of Ecclesiastes)

Miracles

Telephone Line

______________________________
Answers!

Sad Eyes:: Robert John:: 1979

We've Got Tonight:: Bob Seger (& The Silver Bullet Band):: 1978

The Boys of Summer:: Don Henley:: 1984

Without You:: Harry Nillson:: 1971/1972

Bluest Eyes in Texas:: Restless Heart:: 1988

He Stopped Loving Her Today:: George Jones:: 1980

Shannon:: Henry Gross:: 1976 (another piece of trivia: Gross began his musical career as a guitarist for Sha Na Na)

Total Eclipse of the Heart:: Bonnie Tyler:: 1983

(I Want To) Kiss You All Over:: Exile:: 1978

Kiss From A Rose:: Seal:: 1995

Stone Cold:: Rainbow:: 1982

Turn, Turn, Turn:: The Byrds:: 1965

Miracles:: Jefferson Starship:: 1975

Telephone Line:: ELO (Electric Light Orchestra):: 1976/1977

for as long as I can remember, I listened to whatever was on the radio with whomever I was with. My mom has always preferred what is now called "mellow gold" type music; my father always listened to oldies (think Elvis, 1950's and '60's), country and crossover-country. His favorite artists were CCR and Charlie Daniels. During my dating years, I had many boyfriends who listened to country music, as we are in the south, you know. I think my love affair with harder rock and heavy metal music didn't start until the late '80's, when I discovered head banging and angry music. Great releases of frustration. I still listen to a great variety of music, including some classical. I have a couple of cassettes in my car that I pull out when I just need a reminder of life: it has everything from ABBA to Warren Zevon; Alice in Chains to Zeppelin; Bach to Tchaikovsky; Trace Adkins to Dwight Yoakum.

Change can be good for the soul

2006-11-10T12:34:00.000-05:00

Philip decided to take the job. He will be leaving a job of 18 years and starting anew, but it's a little exciting. While he still gets paid on a flat rate system, it is very beneficial for him, as he's a fast (and efficient) technician. If you read articles about flat rate vs. hourly pay, you may see that some people shy away from dealers who use the flat rate because some techs aren't as efficient. That's not really true. If your technician cuts corners and your vehicle is not repaired properly, that technician will have to "make it right", when you come back in, without getting paid for any additional repairs he may have overlooked before. Within reason. You will not be charged extra for anymore repairs necessary to fix the original problem.

Anyway, they've offered him the approximate equivalent of a $7K (or more, depending on the amount of work they have coming in) raise. They offered to pay our COBRA, until we can get on their company benefits. They are alloting him some personal days, that he would normally have to wait a year to receive. They are giving him a laptop computer to use at work AND at home, for half price. The cost to him will be deducted through a payroll deduction. At his current dealership, if the technician wants a laptop at his station (you have NO idea how beneficial this is for the technician when utilizing technical support, the All-Data system, reference material, etc.), he has to pay for it, himself, and it is NOT insured by the shop in case of damage due to work environment.

He starts 2 weeks after Thanksgiving. He is not telling his current employer abut this, yet, as they have a tendancy to fire a resigning employee, rather than let them work a notice. If they let him work a notice when he turns in his resignation, the new place is prepared for a short delay. If the current place fires him on the spot, he will begin the new dealership a week early. Times, they are a' changin'

No Mexico...

2006-11-08T13:26:00.000-05:00

no trip
no insurance (for 90 days, plus reasonable waiting period for pre-existing conditions)
no vacation for 12 months (not including this upcoming one)...

This still isn't set in stone, but it's looking highly likely. Philip is going in for a second interview, of sorts, this evening. It's kinda funny; he's actually sort of interviewing them. I really can't explain that in a way that doesn't sound conceited on his part. Trust me when I say he's not being conceited; only asking for what he is "worth". Big fish in a small pond kind of thing.

Big A went for preliminary testing for Meneire's Disease, today. She goes back, next week, for a more extensive test, then will go for an MRI, after Thanksgiving. It's not a life-threatening illness, but in some cases, it can lead to deafness and/or the need to cut the nerve to the inner ear - which will cause complete deafness in that ear. That's an extreme, all-else-fails solution, though. There's a possibility that this is just a simple case of chronic vertigo, but all the signs lead 3 doctors to believe it's Meneire's. Poor kid. Now I feel like a heel for doubting her, before. Open mouth, insert foot.

Philip forgot to renew his hunting license. He's beside himself. It's really not a big deal - all he has to do is go to any approved store or center and sign the form, pay the $75 and get the new tags. Problem is, he doesn't have the $75. We'll figure it all out. They may pay for his renewal at the lodge, as he does so much for them and his license actually comes in handy for some of what he does (he sometimes helps guide bird hunts, requiring him to help newbies shoot the birds). I'm not sure if he'll ask or not. Whatever, we WILL find a way to renew his license before regular gun season comes in - this Saturday. He'll be lost if he can't go out and attempt to kill some warm-blooded mammal as soon as the season opens. hahahahahahahaha

Democrats rule. Bush's press conference (a few minutes ago) was a little pathetic to watch. He's obviously nervous and quite shaken up. Wonder if he's scared? I guess that's a stupid question. I won't push the issue, though.

I smell like dog. I have GOT to stop spoiling Le Mutt. He's a doll and all that jazz, but he smells. He needs some nice smelly-good shampoo and a bath. He needs a muzzle, too. He barks. A LOT. But, he's just learning what's ingrained in his breed. He needs to go outside, soon. He makes me sneeze. And smell. Damn little puppy eyes get me everytime.
________________________________________________
Things, they are a'changin' Update: they're working on an offer to help either with Cobra or pushing for immediate insurance. There's more, but it all has to be approved by the people at the top. I think they really want Philip pretty bad. That is SO cool! He needed the confidence boost :)

I'm supposed to be organizing and sorting

2006-11-07T12:43:00.000-05:00

Has anyone from the U.S. recently travelled to Mexico? I've done all that "good citizen" research and downloaded forms I need to get passports and printed out all kinds of shit from the Consulate and bla bla bla...but they just state the obvious and then go into detail about some stuff that I think may be a bit on the overly-conservative side.

I found out where to change dollars to pesos. I found out what I need to know about a passport and that I probably won't need a "visa". I found out that most of what we'll need can be done right there at the resort we'll be staying at. I found out that we CAN take bottled water with us, as long as it's a minimal amount and it's in our checked luggage. I found out that we can't bring back any kind of tortoiseshell jewelry or black coral. I found out that I can bring back a small amount of Mexican liqour (can anyone say "HONKING-ROCKING TEQUILA?!"). I found out that I can bring each of the girls some gold jewelry, as long as it doesn't exceed a certain amount of value. I found out that the resort will have "safe" food and drinks, although, I won't drink water, unless it's what I take, myself. I may even be uber-safe and skip coffee and tea while there. Okay, maybe not that drastic. Is there anything else I need to know?

You ask, why am I looking into all this? Well, there's a 50/50 chance that Philip has won a trip to Puerto Vallarta (spelling?), this upcoming Spring. Why is it 50/50? Because he and one other guy from the U.S. are running neck & neck for this trip. Isuzu gives out prizes to their top technicians each year. Their guide to top tech is based on many things; mostly, though, it's the Isuzu master technician (hours and hours and hours of training and update courses, each year) who has the best satisfaction rating from their dealership and customers (PLEASE fill out your customer survey cards when you have work done on your vehicle at a dealership), the most hours of training, their test scores, how they've dealt with technical support and regional representatives and if they've made any suggestions that Isuzu can actually use in the practical setting. I know, it sounds foreign to some of you, but it's kinda standard talk around my house after all these years. Philip has been in the running for this trip for 5 years in a row. Year before last, he actually out-scored the guy who won the trip...it was a long story with a big fuck-up and Philip raised some major hell. Whatever; we have to prepare for this trip as if we've actually won it. We won't know for sure until January, most likely, but it's important to be prepared, says Isuzu.

Speaking of dealerships and such, Philip is considering changing jobs. He's had an offer from another dealership, in a larger town. He's been offered AT LEAST a $3/hour raise, plus many fringe benefits. Their medical benefits are similar to what we already have, so we wouldn't be taking a step down in that area. Of course, he'd forfeit the 15 days of vacation he'll be eligible for in 2008, if he stays where he is. But, they have a few "personal days" scattered throughout their calendar that his current dealership doesn't offer. The new place is only about 8 miles farther travel distance than his current one, but it's in a whole opposite direction. I won't be able to just drop by and visit him or go to lunch, anymore. Two guys who've recently quit his current dealership work at this new one. That's how the job offer came about. He was actually offered the job, verbally, without ever having met the big wigs at this new place. He went and met with them, in person, last week. His interest is piqued, but he still isn't sure. His current boss found out that someone was headhunting him and offered Philip a "raise". The raise offer is really a joke because it still won't equal his potential earnings at the new place. But then there's always that pesky little loyalty issue.

Short of the 9 months we lived in Michigan, Philip has worked for this dearlership since right after we got married - April of 1988. They've been good to him, for the most part. The owner has helped to bail us out of a couple of jams over the years. They respect Philip more than most of "grunts in the back", although, he's still considered a grunt, for the most part. The owner gave Philip some paid leave when I had my little..umm.."breakdown", back in 1997. We were invited to the owner's son's wedding, among a very small few from the dealership who were invited. They're really kinda like family. It would be incredibly awkward to leave. But, the two guys who left this dealership for the other have shown proof (their paystubs) that they are making almost twice than they were, before. There is a constant flow of work with few stagnant months. Their service writers have a much more efficient dispatch system. They have a much more loyal customer base. In other words, the pros are at the very least equal to the cons, if not better. I have no say in this and I won't persuade him one way or the other (no matter how many times he asks - and he's asked!). He'll also lose his "title" as lead technician if he goes to the other dealership. That is NOT a bad thing. As lead tech, he's been responsible for training the greenhorns, gets taken off his own jobs, frequently, to help out the newbies and those without as much knowledge, and also has to attend meetings that he doesn't get paid for. It can cut into his pay as much as $100 or more per week, sometimes. Sometimes even more. So, losing the "title" means leaving all that responsibility behind. See, not a bad thing, at all.

Mexico...any suggestions? Job offer...I'm trying not to think about it, too much - the offer stays on the table for 6 months. Oh, and Thanksgiving is just around the corner and my favorite people in the entire world are coming to share it with us! C and I are both so excited, I believe we may just have to get some Depends. And here I was going to write about Little A's desires to be a princess and how she goes about her days trying to ascertain that goal.

Beauties and The Beast

2006-11-06T11:04:00.000-05:00

Big A wouldn't show off the rest of her dress, but she looked lovely

Little A had no trouble showing off her dress

Philip looks quite dapper when "out of uniform"

Neice, Father-in-law, Philip's sister, Mother-in-law

There are no pictures of me because I was snapping the photos. Hah!

Le Mutt

How to make up

2006-11-03T07:35:00.000-05:00

When I was a little girl, if my dad thought I'd been bad, I would get into trouble. Usually, the punishments ranged from having to sit in front of my father, without moving or talking, until he got tired of me; being locked in my room until my mother got home from work; a whipping with a big leather belt he kept hanging on the back of his bedroom door.

Most of the time, my mom would think he had been wrong and would try to "make up" for it. Often times, she would take me out and buy me something. If she couldn't, she'd take me to her mother's house, or to my dad's parents' house. They would usually buy me something. Never anything big, but little things like candy, hair thingies or a Barbie - usually the 99cent ones, but who cared?

Sometimes, now, if Philip and I have been arguing or he feels he's neglected me too much, he'll bring me something. Nothing major, really; a lot of times, he'll stop and get my cigarettes instead of leaving me to go to the store. Sometimes, he'll just give me a twenty (if we have it), and tell me he's sorry and tell me to go buy a new pair of shoes or my favorite lotion.

Sometimes, though, he decides to do something big to make up. Especially if he feels he needs to make up to me AND the girls. I suppose that was the case, last night. Well, that and the fact that he sorta got suckered into this...not by us. Guess what he brought home?

guess

keep guessing

nope, not it

c'mon, you can do it!

oh, keep on

getting warmer

warmer!

you're sooooo close

*voila!*

Meet "Wrinkles" (he named him) Wrinkles is a Mountain Cur. I believe Philip was going to bring Wrinkles home, anyway, but the timing was pretty clever, as Philip's been a bit...umm...difficult, lately.

Notice, please, that Wrinkles is INSIDE the house. Did I ever mention that I'm allergic to dogs? For some odd reason, I'm not god-awful allergic to Wrinkles, although I have been taking double doses of antihistimines. Hopefully, Wrinkles will go outside in a couple of days, once Blackie, our other dog, becomes less aggressive towards him. Until then, Wrinkles is content with being spoiled rotten inside and tormenting the cats.

Right now, Wrinkles is laying on my feet, drooling. He may need to go with me to the dry cleaners, today, as he gets so lonely. Umm, yeah, that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.

yes, again...

2006-11-02T00:46:00.000-05:00

Yall should really just ignore that rant, as I'll be in a better mood in a day or three...He brought food before going to the man thing. He then proceeded to come home not-quite-drunk-not-quite-sober, started boiling tea, fell asleep allowing the tea to boil over and left an oven mit ON the burner. I came out of my sanctuary just in time to put the fucking fire out. I have no idea why the fire alarm didn't go off. I did, though. I'm not kidding.

In other fucked up news...
my neice - the one who misbehaves, dropped out of high school, got pregnant, had an abortion that she swore was a miscarriage, bla bla bla - is still 16, still has no diploma or GED, nor is she enrolled to receive either, still has no license and...is pregnant and living with some 28 year old guy who says he's gonna marry her. That's not even the best part. (If you live in a trailer, please forgive the next part, but I think you'll understand, actually) As a wedding present, he's buying her a brand new singlewide and having it set up in a "really nice trailer park with a very low crime rate" - that would be the crime rate of the trailer park, not the small town. I don't think I want to live in a small area that has its own designated crime rate percentage. Oh, and he just got promoted to assistant nigh manager at Burger King (or Hardee's....I forgot, now). "[insert neice's name here] is so lucky! He is just the sweetest guy. They're putting her wedding dress on layaway next week. Did you know they make really adorable maternity wedding dresses?" Yes, that was a conversation I overheard. What the everliving fuck is wrong with these people? You must imagine everything I just said being drawled out in a horribly southern, white-trash sounding voice.

Another set of neice & nephew had an interesting day. It's actually quite scary. Their high school caught on fire and is still burning. There were no injuries, but one firefighter had to go to the hospital for some breathing treatments for smoke inhalation. The school will most likely burn to the ground. It's so sad. There's another scary element to this, though: the fire started in the chemistry lab (no surprise there), and the wing that the chemistry lab is on (along with the biology lab and a craft storage center - think glue, paper, etc.) has no sprinkler system. The entire rest of the building, less the gymnasium, has sprinklers. On a funny note from that, though; as is classic southern fashion, the news reporters managed to interview the one woman who had her hair in pink fuzzy rollers, had on a housecoat and slippers (yes, like the ones in that post I did a few days ago - and I'm not kidding!). She also was missing 2 front teeth, but had one of the remaining front teeth capped in gold. She had one of THE MOST southern accents I have ever heard (Alabama ain't got shit on this woman!) and used the words, ain't, y'all, yungins, git, yerns (I think that's a variation of y'all and yours...not sure, though) and the phrase, "hooo-dawgies". On statewide television. Please God don't let it be national. Please, if the story does air nationally, let them show one of the more intelligent and eloquent interviewees. Yes, I know I use those terms, sometimes, but I know how to speak properly if I'm gonna be on fucking television! hahahaha

I'm taking Big A for a doc app't tomorrow afternoon. She's been having (claiming) dizzy spells and a few spells that she thinks may be asthma. I say "claim" because...well...she makes Nonny's hypochondria look like a slight case of the jitters. She decided she might have asthma shortly after her last boyfriend had an asthma attack at school, and almost immediately after I had an allergy-induced asthma attack. These dizzy spells have just started up, coincidentally after my dad was diagnosed with vertigo. One day last week she came home with a headache and stiff neck (after doing some vigorous excercising for a few days), promptly looked the symptoms up in our medical book and swore she must have spinal meningitis. When I explained how they do the spinal tap, and that they don't use anesthesia at the E.R. (okay, I lied...I don't know if they use anesthesia or not), she decided that she didn't feel quite that bad. A couple of hours later, she said that the ibuprofen had done the trick and decided to cut down from 1 hour of vigorous excercise each day to 30 minutes, 3 times a week. As she weighs 110 +/- a couple of pounds, I think that's just fine. I sound like a horrible mother, I know, but kids make it so hard when they cry wolf so much! I DO hope she's fine. I really think she may have some "hay fever", as it's that time of year and nearly everyone is either sneezing, wheezing or hacking. If she's really sick, I'm going to go hide under the rock I beat myself in the head with.

tonight's mantra:
I will be in a better mood tomorrow
I will not bitch so much tomorrow
I will not call anyone a fuckshit tomorrow
I will not yell at anyone tomorrow
I will not throw anything across the room tomorrow

But is it okay if I still wash the husbandly-figure's briefs along with all our reds and purples?

It's my bloggy and I'll cry if I want to

2006-11-01T15:25:00.000-05:00

Philip has this side chick - don't go to the gutter; she's an 88 year young riot of a woman who has this piece of shit car that she keeps having Philip work on just enough to keep it gimping along. He did a whole shitload of work to her car last week and throughout the weekend. She just called me and asked me to tell him, (whenever he gets home, tonight - which will most likely be after I go to bed because he's going to another one of those brotherhood men things...I want their porn when they're done, dammit!) "that whatever-the-fuck-it-is-guage light is on again and I don't got no air conditioning. It just blows hot air." So, I tell her I'll let him know. She proceeds to tell me that she has a doctor's appointment tomorrow so she needs to know if she can drive it like it is. Because of who this woman is and how much we all adore her (I've known her since I was about 13 or 14 - she's my grandmother's best friend), I overlook the somewhat demanding and whiney tone. I call Philip at work, tell him what's up, ask him to call her and tell her what he's just told me ("the a/c doesn't have freon in it and I've already told her that and that light is one of those lights that's not gonna work right because she doesn't want to replace the ECM...bla bla bla") and he says - and I quote! - "Why can't you call her? You know all about this shit. You know the car is perfectly fine, she just won't have air. You can explain this just as easily as I can. I'm busy and won't be home until too late to call her, tonight. Oh, what are you and the girls doing for dinner, because I don't have any money on me right now and your bank account is empty?"

First off, I DON'T know all about that shit. Second, I didn't work on her fucking car and don't know how to fix what's wrong, so I ain't gonna call and try to convince her that it's okay like it is, when I don't understand it all, myself. Third, when did I become his personal secretary? I'm sick to death of this. Everyone calls me because they don't want to call him at work...but they want ME to. He gets pissed at me for calling him at work and asks why I don't just tell them to call him. Fourth (I know you're wondering how many parts there will be to this - humor me), what the fuck does he mean by "what are you...going to do about dinner...your bank account is empty..."? Well, okay, I guess I can go write a bad check somewhere. Perhaps I can convince the girls that mustard sandwiches are healthy and constitute a balanced meal. Why is MY bank account empty when he just told me this morning that HE has money in HIS checking account?

That's all right, though. One of the cats puked on his pillow. I'm not washing it, now and he ain't gettin' none for about a month. If he drives home drunk again (this is a new trend that worries me to the nth degree), he might just find holes in all his socks and pink briefs. I started off in a bad mood, this morning, and he knew it. Do you think it was wise of him to piss me off, knowing I was already bitchy?
Men, I beg you to take heed of this warning: DON'T PISS YOUR WIFE OFF WHEN SHE'S ALREADY BITCHY AND HATEFUL!

All Hallow's Eve

2006-11-01T08:23:00.000-05:00

On the way to town

Their end choices (Big A as dead bride; Little A as dead school girl)

With old friend from town - who annoyed me to no end, last night

Parents still don't watch their kids. It doesn't matter if you're in a "safe" neighborhood or not; there are still pervs everywhere. It doesn't matter how dark a kid's costume is; I only saw a dozen kids, at best, with some sort of reflective clothing or markers, out of about 50+. Parents still park in the middle of the road, turn off their headlights, and wait patiently while their kids run out in the street with traffic coming in both directions. I watched kids as young as maybe 7 or 8 walking, in the middle of the road, without a parent nearby. I nearly hit 2 cars, last night, because the cars were either black or dark blue and had no headlights or taillights alerting other cars they were parked in the middle of the road.

The night was a flop. The girls looked the part, sure, but they didn't behave well while their friend was with them. He cursed most of the night (a few curses aren't that bad, but he cusses almost as bad as I do), pulled pranks right in front of me and encouraged the girls to do the same. Big A scared a little kid on purpose. I yelled at her and made her apologize in front of God and the world. She was embarrassed and showed her ass (not literally!). Good deeds do not go unpunished. Please remind me, next year, not to go to so much trouble. Oh, and remind me this week, to find a way for the girls to repay the gas money I feel was wasted.

Today's Playlist - It IS Halloween, you know

2006-10-31T11:53:00.000-05:00

It's quite diverse, and you'll see that I'm a sucker for a ballad. *sigh*

1. Rat in a Cage::Smashing Pumpkins
2. Closer::Nine Inch Nails
3. Diary of Jane::Breaking Benjamin
4. We've Got Tonight::Bob Segar
5. Live Like You're Dyin' ::Tim McGraw
6. Boys of Summer::Don Henley
7. Alyssa Lies::Jason Michael Carrol
8. Bluest Eyes in Texas::Restless Heart
9. Go Rest High on that Mountain::Vince Gill
10. He Stopped Loving Her Today::George Jones
11. Follow::10 Years
12. The Kill::30 Seconds To Mars
13. La Grange::ZZ Top
14. The Pot::Tool
15. Brick House::Lionel Richie with Rob Zombie (yes, for real, it's way wicked)
16. Tainted Love:: Marilyn Manson
17. Imaginary Lover::Atlanta Rythm Section

Fucking country music. Fucking fucked up music taste! Oy Vey!

Hey you! yeah, you! You know who I'm talkin' to. Those are just for you. You know which ones. Oh, and more...

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Addition

Because I'm a sucker like this, I've decided to take the girls trick-or-treating tonight. They're really too old to go, but...they sorta begged. They wanted those parties, and we just cannot do it right now. It's too dry for one thing - fire under trees with dying leaves = disaster. We just plain don't have the money, either. They have no idea just how much it can cost for even the simplest of spreads. Sooooo...I'm about to scour the house for black tulle or crinoline (which I'm sure I have), so Big A can go as a dead bride. She has a long dress (remember that eggplant formal gown) that looks black in the dark. I've got an old pair of black shoes that I can scuff up and break one heel off of. Little A can wear a long black skirt and a long loose shirt and make her hair all stringy and shit and go as Samara from The Ring. With her hair all icky and in her face, she's a dead ringer because she can do those creepy jerky movements that the kid did in the second movie. I suppose it's a good thing the girls never asked for a pony. It's a good thing we're not wealthy, too. We wouldn't be for long because they are just too fucking sweet to say no to, most of the time. Shoot me in the head. Please.

Dying, crying and a fantastic trucker

2006-10-31T00:16:00.000-05:00

Philip came home, last night, telling me about a song he'd heard on the radio. Someone had the radio (I guess up at the lodge) on country music, which I rarely listen to, and he doesn't much, anymore. The song was Alyssa Lies by Jason Michael Carrol. When he told me about it, Philip got a bit misty eyed. I hadn't even heard the song and I cried listening to the subject matter. So, silly me, I just HAD TO find the song. While I was out, today, I started switching the radio back and forth between country stations. I never could find it, but I did hear a few songs I like. I heard an old Alabama song, an Allman Brothers song (I guess it's "crossover"?), an old Reba McIntyre song that I love, and...*drumroll* "Live Like You Were Dyin'" by Tim McGraw. It was that moment when I realized why I don't listen to country music, anymore.

That song has always tugged at my heartstrings, but then it hit me like a ton of bricks. My friend wasn't able to "live like she was dyin'" before her cancer took her. So, I cried. For about 20 miles. With a trucker in front of me. He saw me in his side mirror and motioned me around. When I got up next to him (remember, yall, this is the country - the only traffic I had to worry about was a tractor), he motioned for me to roll my window down. I did. He asked me if I was listening to the same radio station as him. We both cranked our radios up and then laughed at one another. We were listening to the same station. He had a tear on his cheek. He told me that he just lost his wife to cancer, about a year ago. So, running 60mph down a winding country road, we ran side by side (praying for no tractors - or, heaven forbid, another car!), with Tim McGraw cranked up. We both stopped crying. I know it might sound insane, but that was absolutely one of the sweetest things that's ever happened to me.

Tonight, I finally found Alyssa Lies and downloaded it. I couldn't play it while everyone else was awake. I get teased for crying over stupid stuff like commercials and songs (I swear I get sappier as I age). I just played the song. Don't know why, but I didn't cry the first time I listened. I got mad. I mean raging inferno pissed. The song is about a little girl who makes a new friend named Alyssa. Alyssa lies to cover up for the bruises she has. Alyssa dies, in the end, of course. No country song can end without someone dying, ya know. I won't say whether I'll cry the next time I listen...I'm not sure if I feel more anguish or anger. I've watched kids I know, personally, show up with strange bruises. I've threatened one man when I saw a hand shaped bruise on his daughter's arm. I confronted one of Philip's supervisors many years ago when his wife came to work ( she and I worked together at the time) with her hair in her face and way too much makeup on, one day. I finally got her alone and saw the bruises. I hit a guy with a cast iron skillet, once, for hitting me, after he hit his girlfriend (my best friend) - but because he hit her. Striking me didn't do anything but piss me off. But this song is about a very young girl. Maybe 8 or 10. Why do people do this to kids? Or to anyone? Defending oneself is one thing, but blatant abuse? I discovered, today, that I could very easily murder someone and probably never feel remorse. I hope no one ever decides to strike one of my children. No, not a schoolyard scuffle - all kids go through that at some point in their life - I mean a punch or slap during a relationship. I could go on and on about this, but I won't. I'm going to listen to the song again and maybe journal a bit about what a strong reaction I had just to a 3 minute song.

Weekend's over, thank goodness!

2006-10-30T09:50:00.000-05:00

I took the kids and their boyfriends to the mall & the movies, Saturday. Interesting adventure. The weirdest part - they wanted me to hang out with them at the mall and the younger two wanted me to sit with them at the movie. Huh? Since when do kids want Mom tagging along? Of course, how many moms hide behind rounders and jump out and scare the kids (my kids - not strangers)?
How many moms throw popcorn
at the woman who screams at the scary scenes or the big guy who keeps talking throughout the whole movie? Does that make me strange?

Just before I left to take the kids off for the day on Saturday, I needed a little cash so stopped off at the lodge where I KNEW Philip would be to ask for a twenty. He was off in some shop working on some project with one of the guys, so the old man (owner) asked what I needed and then just started handing me money! I made some signs for him late last week, but didn't expect to get paid. In fact, insisted it was a "gift" because he does so much for us, already. He finally just stuffed twenty dollars in my hand then walked away, grinning. Silly old fart.

We went to that baby shower, yesterday. It was incredibly pretentious. I'd never been to that particular part of the Country Club and felt quite out of place. It got even more awkward when the mom-to-be insisted on taking out the quilt I'd made for the baby (that she asked me to make - and was intended to be opened rather low-key), then cried and had to hand it around the room! After, she opened the other gift (the collage frame with all her favorite Disney characters that I drew), then insisted on passing IT around the room. *sigh* I know she was tickled and I'm glad, but it was kind of embarrassing when all these upper-crusts started following me around as I tried to hide behind Philip, flowers, a fork, the bar...It became even more awkward when she asked me to help her finish decorating the nursery - in front of her mother-in-law, who is an interior decorator and a friend of ours. I saw the glares between the two women and didn't know what to say.

On a fun note, it was cool this weekend and we've had a frost, so most of the bugs are gone. Styx got to go outside to play. He was getting prepared to pounce on leaves. It was breezy, Saturday, so all the leaves were swirling about...too tempting.

psychobabble

2006-10-26T12:25:00.000-04:00

It's funny. For some reason, people talk to me. They confide in me, their deepest, darkest secrets. They trust me. It's not that I'm not trustworthy, because I am. To a fault, sometimes. I suppose I'm easy to talk to. I try to stay objective and nonjudgemental. It's really not that hard to do. But sometimes, the things people say, they don't realize how close to home they hit. It's not that I mind, either. Because of that, it actually makes me more able to see both sides. The fact that I've experienced these feelings, done these same things, had the same thoughts about me...I can speak from experience when I try to listen and offer guidance when it's asked.

Recently, I've had 3 different people talk to me about 3 separate issues. All of them were personal demons that I've slain. At least I continue to slay them, as the years go by.

a) Will she have to take these meds for the rest of her life? Then she really is crazy, right?

b) He had an affair.

c) She continues to spend all the extra money like it's nothing.

The answers or realities to each:

a) Yes, in this case she will have to take meds forever in order to stay healthy. No, it doesn't mean she's crazy. It simply means she has an illness, which is no different than diabetes, hypertension or thyroid disease. When not medicated, it goes out of control and can kill the person. It causes him or her to act irrationally and not be able to function appropriately in society. So, you see, just because she takes medication for that particular disease, it doesn't mean she's "crazy". As long as she continues to take her medication, you will see very few symptoms of the disease. If the symptoms persist or get worse, there are options. Seeing a doctor (whatever type), regularly, is essential to winning the battle to this disease. The disease, however, will never go away. Treatment is the only option.

b) That really does suck. I am SO sorry you're having to deal with this. Is this the first time it's ever happened? If so, is there something going on in his life, right now, that may be causing him undue stress? Has his job left him feeling inadequate? Are there family disputes (within his extended family - not you and him and your kids)? Do his parents pick on him about something he doesn't have control over?

Feelings of inadequacy are generally what triggers something like this. Domestic disputes can lead to affairs, but the number one reason for infidelity usually stems away from home. While he may feel he's "getting even" with someone, or "I'll show them", he knows, subconciously, that he is only acting out a fantasy and now feels he has a safe "out" because he feels wronged. His guilt will eat him up, though. He is probably in his own Hell right now. He doesn't need encouragement from anyone else to feel like a snake.

He has to take responsibility for his actions, but it's not YOUR job to make him relive this over and over. You have every right to be angry and hurt and tell him so; you do not, however, have the right to wallow in this to the point of belittling him and breaking his emotional fragility. I swear to you that he hurts as much now as he ever will again. If you continue to punish him, you are no better than him. The outcome of this infidelity is completely up to you. Stay and work on it, or leave. Those are the only two options. The ball is in your court. If this is a continual thing, though, leave now.

c) Spending irrationally can be a symptom of many things. Hypersexuality, gambling addictions, alcohol addictions and uncontrollable spending are all symptoms of a number of psychiatric disorders. They can also be symptoms of other more common diseases and disorders. A lot of people don't know that. Changes in one's body chemistry can lead to illogical thinking and cause one to do things that are outside his or her normal personality.

There are other reasons that people spend too much, too. We can go back to the feelings of inadequacy. There is also that desire to "keep up with the Joneses". While it's not a healthy thing, it happens to more people than you may know. When the want/need line is very faint, that can cause problems, as well. There is always the possibility that she or he has been spoiled all her or his life and continues to indulge in this because he or she does not know any other way of life.

I have a friend who works part-time, simply so she can afford to have her hair done, professionally, once a month; to have her nails done weekly; to keep her membership at the gym and tanning salon; and to buy shoes and handbags. It's almost a sickness with her. But, because she wants these things so desparately, it tramples all over her reasoning, thus making it seem like a need rather than a want. That's her choice, though. She is not taking away from the household necessities to keep up these habits. If your wife is digging into the important finances, then it's time to confront her and find out why. Counseling can often help a super-spender find the underlying reason.

So, there we have the common psychobabble reasoning. I can't truly speak for the people who have been affected by these recent events. I can, however, empathize with all involved. If you want true answers, you have to go to the source. Blaming him or her is not the answer. Digging below the surface is the only way to find truth. Often, it takes someone besides the normal circle of friends and family to make this discovery. Counseling is not just for nutjobs, anymore. Did you know that many counselors (CSW's, psychologists, psychiatrists, etc.) seek counseling, themselves? They do this because they have to have a safe place - away from their patients/clients - to find answers in their own lives. Of course, there aren't always answers to be found. Some things just happen. It's not always someone's fault. It's called human weakness. When complaining about a loved one's faults, keep in mind that we all have weaknesses and we all show our cards from time to time.