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I’m not going to say anything about my trip tomorrow for fear of jinxing it. We are supposed to get more snow tomorrow so I’m in full panic mode. Not the panic mode as in oh-my-god-I’m-traveling-with-two-kids-alone or anything. No, no, that would be normal panic. I’m talking the panic like oh-my-god-its-going-to-snow-and-the-plane-may-need-deicing-and-what-if-they-get-cleared-to-take-off-in-this-snowstorm-when-they-really-shouldn’t-be-flying-and-we-crash-and-I-have-essentially-taken-my-husband’s-entire-life-away-from-him-in-one-second.
That is how I roll with panic.
So, not one word. I will not relax or feel calm until that plane is 35,000 feet in the air.
But, I’m still worried and stressed. I mean, my mind flips over into hyperdrive right about now and I start looking at every little thing as a sign that this may be my last day on earth. For instance, this post, this one right here that you are hopefully reading, is my 499th post. So, Alanis Morrisette begins playing in my head… “Isn’t ironic, she writes 499 posts and then the plane crashed down…. didn’t make it to 500″ But she sings it way better than me, of course.
I feel like the moment that I stop stressing, stop worrying, stop panicking, then that will be the moment that bad things happen. If I worry and stress and panic then everything will be fine. It’s an expect the unexpected kind of thing… expect the worst, hope for the best. That was a mantra my father drilled into my head, so I live and breathe it, reluctantly.
I hope to write my 500th post from the warm side of the country soon. I hope my flight isn’t delayed or canceled tomorrow and I hope we arrive safely. Please please please please please let everything go smoothly tomorrow!!!
Anyway, switching gears here, while I’m away, hubs says he’s going to party and get his freak on. I laugh and call him dirty names because he is a big fat liar. He is all talk, but no walk. The day he calls me from a strip club with titties shaking in his face that’s the day I will say “You da man!!!” and be on my merry way. But this will never happen because he can’t pull the trigger.
See, hubs has a wife who tries to kick him out of the house to go out with friends but he doesn’t go. He has a wife who could care less about strip clubs because she is secure in the marriage. But does he ever take advantage and go? NO! Not that I would push him out the door into a strip club or anything, but if the opportunity arises and he goes I don’t care. So, hubs will have over a month of freedom while we are away and yet this is what he’s really going to do:
- Watch SportsCenter
- Watch pre-season baseball
- Watch Transformers every time he sees it on t.v
- Watch Braveheart every time he sees it on t.v
- Watch Harry Potter every time he sees it on t.v
- Get up early on a Sunday and go grocery shopping even though he can totally sleep in.
- He may go out for coffee with his BFF once, maybe twice on a Saturday.
- He will go out to his sister’s house and pick up more wood for our wood-burning stove.
- He will bake goodies for our friends.
- He will go out to his sister’s house and play Wii with his BIL.
- He will eat cereal every night for dinner.
This list is pretty much a 100% guarantee. He’s an adult and if that is how he wants to spend his month of freedom like a complete loser, then so be it. All I care about is that he is able to come down and pick us up and drive us back home at some point. He deserves a vacation too, after all.
So, until next time… bon voyage. Wait, I didn’t say that…. we’ll talk soon. Yeah, that’s better. We’ll talk soon.
You know what is so totally awesome? Well, let me tell you what is so totally awesome….
When you wake up in the morning and don’t feel well and you realize your stomach is making an awful lot of noise like there are potentially very angry creatures in there and then you get downstairs to discover that your insides have pretty much liquefied and you are in and out of the bathroom for a few hours and then you start to feel better and decide to take your kids to school even though you dread going outside in that icy mess that has befallen and even though your car has been warming up for a good 25 minutes you try to get in but the doors are all frozen shut so you yank and yank and yank until it opens and you hustle the kids in so you can get them buckled in and get yourself in the car before you turn into an icicle and then as you round the corner you realize your windshield wipers and fluid have completely frozen and stop working but you get stuck in a line of cars waiting for a train so you decide to take that opportunity to get out and start trying to remove all the ice build up from your wipers and subsequently bang the shit out of the wipers on the windshield and then get back into your car and notice they still aren’t working completely right so you get back out for round two and you notice the train is coming to an end so you give up and get back into the car only to realize your door latch as frozen shut and your door won’t stay closed and you are stuck in a line of cars with a door that won’t stay closed and it’s like 2 degrees outside so you decide to crank the wheel and pull over to the left where there is a tiny empty lot so you can get out and work on your door latch but as you pull over your door flies open and by now you are saying the f-word an awful lot while other cars stare at your unfortunate misfortune but move on with their lives and then finally you work the latch enough to where it finally holds the door shut so you get back in and continue taking the boys to school and you try to call your husband to vent out loud about this major annoyance but he doesn’t answer his phone… so you get more annoyed because you can’t vent your other annoyances.
Then an hour or so later after you have gone to Walmart without incident (yay!) and you polish off the left over Panda Express orange chicken with chopsticks that you still can’t hold right but don’t feel comfortable eating Asian food with a fork so you muddle through and then decide to test out the new and very dark purple nail polish you just bought only as you do this you drop a big fat glob of that uber dark purple nail polish onto your nice jeans and once again you find yourself saying that f-word a lot so you run into the bathroom to try and use some nail polish remover and a q-tip to get the nail polish off your jeans and as you do this some nail polish remover seeps into a hang-nail and stings like a muthah-luvin’ bitch and you decide to just give up and stick your head in the oven at 525 degrees. At least it’s warm in there.
But you know what is awesome, for realz?
I WILL BE IN ARIZONA IN ONE MONTH! ONE. FREAKING. MONTH! Now, that is awesome.
Once upon a time, I was in the guestroom organizing some mail. Monster was playing on the floor behind me and the dog was annoying the ever-loving piss out of me by constantly putting his “crack-ball” in my lap, as if I wanted to actually play with him.
After a few moments of, “Murray take your damn ball! I DON’T WANT TO PLAY!” and “Monster, who are you talking to? What are you doing with that tiny rubber lobster? “, I realized someone was missing.
“DramaBoy! What are you doing!?” I called out from the comfort of my office chair.
“(something completely unintelligible was spoken back to me)“
“WHAT?!”
“(something completely unintelligible was repeated to me)“
“You are peeing?!” I asked thinking I had the right answer.
“NOOOOO!! (something unintelligible was repeated yet again only this time with an obvious sense of annoyance and frustration)”
“WHAT!?” I yelled back again, obviously trying my hardest not to remove my ass from my chair.
Once again, something was yelled back that I couldn’t quite make out.
“Are you upstairs?” I asked.
“NO!” he yelled back. “I don’t want you seeing!”
AH! I finally understood what he was saying. He didn’t want me seeing him! Duh!
WAIT! OH F**K! That means he’s up to something!! This cannot be good. I finally got up out of my chair and raced in the direction of his voice. He was in the bathroom. Great, I figured he had jammed the toilet with gobs of toilet paper after pooping.
What I actually saw when I got to the bathroom is an image that will never leave my mind. And, since I immediately ran back for my camera it will surely live on forever. And it will probably be pulled out for friends, family and future girlfriends. In fact, this picture just might get framed for my wall.
I present to you, “The Great Toilet Seat Incident… of ‘08″
I am still not sure what prompted my son to put the toilet seat over his head, AFTER pooping mind you, but he did. And it got stuck. It would not fit back over his head. I tried taking it off and he screamed at me, “NO! I WILL DO IT!” because it was hurting his head. I laughed and he got more pissed. He got REALLY pissed when I brought out the camera.
Well, son, I’m sorry. Stupidity like this is very deserving of snapshots and blog fodder.
I guess he is my son… sometimes he just can’t resist something so tempting…. much like sticking a Reynolds Handi-Vac to my face or licking icicles in the dead of a Minnesota winter and ripping off the top layer of my tongue. I’m quite familiar with stupidity and the apple doesn’t seem to have fallen far from the tree.
Someone got a hold of my debit card, again. This time they didn’t just get the number, they got the whole card. I dropped it somewhere and never realized it until hubs called me on the phone and says, “WTF! What is with all these Taco Bell charges!?”
I was all, “WHAT! I paid cash for my last 5 trips bitch!”
Heh, that’s funny. The person stole my card and used it at Taco Bell. Perfect.
But, the thing that tipped off hubs was the fact that there were 4 separate charges in one day to Taco Bell. Even I don’t debit that much food from there.
Slimy bastards. They also ate at MacDonalds. Shit, this person must have like, “Hey bitches! Dinner is on me! I gots me a new debit card! Go ahead! Order up! Hell, get TWO combo meals if ya want!”
Then, they bought gas. Of course. Cuz after picking up all their croonies and driving from Taco Bell to MacDonalds they probably needed a fill-up.
We will get the money back which is good. Lord knows I’m going to need to satiate my OWN Taco Bell habit. I guess I need to be more watchful of my debit card in the future. Just putting it back in my pocket probably wasn’t the best idea.
Some people really don’t have a conscience in this world, do they?
This is my very very very very first attempt EVER at editing video. I have a webcam now and thought I would give this a shot. I’m telling you now, it’s lame. It’s sad even. But I’m still somewhat proud of my mad editing skillz feeble attempt at making something halfway creative.
I would say enjoy… but that would just be silly.
And I just noticed that on one of my interchanges I misspelled “AND”. I put “ANT” instead. I definitely won’t quit my day job.
Well, I haven’t been gone that long. Long enough though. God I miss ya’lls!!! Technically this isn’t quite going to be classified as a drunk post, however, I am on my third glass of wine. This means, I’m still conscious of my typing errors and will fix them, but I cannot be held responsible for what comes out of my fingertips. Inhibitions are off. Heh.
First things first. We are now a mere 24 hours away from the arrival of my BFF!!!! WOOT! I cannot wait to see her. Two full days will not be enough but it’s all I can get… and I owe her a trip out to see her anyway. I just hope we enjoy a fun weekend and are drunk for at least 36 of the 48 hours we have.
Ok, to be honest, the only reason I’m blogging right now is because I’m avoiding homework and I felt like I was neglecting my fan. Heh. So, here I sit, drinking and watching the debates. How apropos. You know, it’s funny… I was raised in a Republican home. I also spent 15 years of my life in Arizona and liked John McCain.
In 2002 I left my home and everything I knew and spread my wings in Illinois. I have made a life for myself and have slowly realized that I’m the black sheep in my family… or, the Democrat. My mother sent me an email last night because she obviously doesn’t want to believe that I am the big D. It was a stoopid email that had several quotes from Obama’s books that paint him into a negative light. I have read a large portion of the book “Dreams of my Father” and knew that they were completely taken out of context.
So, I replied to my mother with this,
______
Oh dear God Mother, so it begins? I read a large portion of that book and those comments were taken out of context. Oy.
Your very proud Democratic and Obama loving daughter.
______
So, now that I’m living my own life without the influences of my family (which is not a bad thing), I have discovered that I’m part bleeding heart, part conservative, part teeter-totterer, pro-gay everything, pro-environment and absolutely despise the last 8 years of the presidential administration. I also know that politicians over-promise and under-deliver. I’m not stoopid. Elections are generally just a choice between the lesser of the two evils. This time is not so different, but I just cannot see Obama as evil. I don’t expect him to be able to pull through on all his promises but I do see a positive administration full of changes in him.
There, I said it. I went there. I discussed something I usually avoid because it’s not necessary to mention on here… but, I’m drinking, watching the debates and hard up for topics. And, I am not going to hide behind my values either. I proudly exclaim that I HAVE A HEART! Gooooo donkeys! Heh.
This means that hubs is going to grow a beard and the first man to cave and shave is not only a pussy (my words, not theirs) but he loses out on the pot of money. But guess what. These idiots only put in $5 each! FIVE FREAKING dollars for a beard war? Look, the aggravation ALONE is worth more than that! So, with the 5 or 6 dudes in this war, that means the winner will get $25 to $30 bucks for winning. WHAT? Look, if my husband is going to be a part of this damn beard war, I expect him to win, first of all, and second when he DOES win I expect a helluva lot more money than a mere $30 bucks! I have to look at his scraggly-ass face for weeks (because he doesn’t lose) and I deserve at least $50 bucks just for that!
Not to mention this beard war could carry over into the annual Christmas party and I’ll be damned if I’m going to attend with Grizzly Friggin’ Adams and not win more than $30 bucks! Shit! So, my mission is to get these dudes to fork up more cash for the pot. Not only is my husband going to win but he is going to come home with enough cash to buy mama somethin’ real nice.
Oh, and on a sidenote, McCain can kiss my Obama-loving ass! HE WAS NOT A BILL AYERS FOLLOWER, ASSOCIATE, FRIEND or A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G! Dear God.
On another note, if you are voting for McCain, it’s fine. I will still like you. Hopefully you can still like me for not voting for him. Agree to disagree. That is what America is about!
Yeah, this is definitely a drunk post. I’m embarrassed already….
P.S – My dog has HORRIBLY STINKY GAS! DEAR LORD!
Smooches peeps… homework calls. I wonder how my paper will turn out now. Heh.
So, a dear, dear man named Lioux recently graced my mailbox with his package. It was a great package. I was excited to see his package! I had incredibly high hopes for his package! His package made me smile. When he sent it he hinted that his package might even double my pleasure and double my fun. I was intrigued and anxious.
I grabbed his packed swiftly, yet gently and brought into the house. I quickly looked for some scissors (heh) so I could get into his package easily. Then, at that moment the scissors started slicing the package I found that his package was full of confetti. Can you imagine anticipating a package and longing for what is inside, only to be greeted with confetti?
Well, it wasn’t only confetti. He did deliver on his promise. I did recieve double the pleasure, double the fun… but the confetti kind of took the wind from my sail.
After my hands, floor, counters, lap and everything in between was sufficiently covered in gold super-strength confetti that is thinner than a human hair, I found my true pleasure inside his package. Two of his band’s latest CD’s. One for me and one for someone to whom I deem worthy enough to get it.
I instantly threw the CD into my computer so I could listen and the amazement and joy continued. The CD is everything I wanted it to be and more.
THANK YOU LIOUX!!!
But, I will never forget the fact that you sent that confetti and I will haunt you in your dreams.
And, thanks for making my dog shit glitter. His poop is pretty now.
_________________________________________________
And on one final note, my inner captain idiot strikes again…
I came home from dropping the boys off at school and set my phone down on the table. Then, husband called me on that phone. I sat down at my computer and started talking to him and then realized, I couldn’t find my phone. So, I went back to the table where I had set it down and began looking for it again. Then I checked the kitchen. SHIT! Where the hell is my phone?! I just had the damn thing!
OH! Yeah, that’s right… IT IS ON MY FRIGGIN’ EAR!!!
That just may be my dumbest move yet. But I’m sure I can top it in a few weeks.
Next up: Pictures of me from high school. Heh. This will be painful, for you and me.
Monster let the dog out the front door today, mostly on accident and mostly because he is a kid and not very fast at getting out the door before the dog.
The dog took off. Evil, EVIL dog!
I had just finished applying my hair color. I was also in my dark plaid pajama pants and an old t-shirt. My hair was matted, wet and goopy. I had no choice but to pursue the dog in my unpleasant condition. I threw a bright blue scarf on my head in order to mask the matted, wet and goopy hair and proceded out the door after the evil, EVIL dog. You can bet I was the envy of the neighborhood with my stellar looks of the moment.
The evil, EVIL dog was found, two blocks away and I drug the evil, EVIL dog’s ass home. Thoroughly embarrassed.
Kids and dogs have a way of not letting you forget that life never stops, no matter what is happening around you.
I know where I stand in the blog world. I’m not famous or infamous. I have a small readership and that makes me happy. I would love to be more like Kristi or Carly, but I’m not. It would take a lot more intelligence and humor to even put me close.
Even though I don’t have a large following or 20+ subscribers (But can I tell you how much I love my 15 subscribers! YOU ARE MY EVERYTHING PEOPLE!) I’m still a stat checker. I see you. All of you. Well, all dozen of you. Heh. But I see you, I click on your links, your blogs, I trace your steps to find out how you came to me. I’m self-absorbed nosey that way.
I even marvel at the number of disgusting web searches that bring you to me. You. Friggin’. Nasty. Perverts. “girls who love spanking testicles”. Seriously? They get worse, much much worse. And now, because I have typed that phrase out in my blog I’m going to get a million more nasty perverts looking on. Gross. This is why I have always avoided writing posts about the funny or obscene searches that bring people to my blog. Some are just so bad they are not worth repeating and it only encourages more sexual deviants to find me anyway.
I digress. Today, as I was looking through my stats I started thinking back to older posts, back in the day when I was first starting out as a blogger. While browsing through those “wet-behind-the-ears” posts I had to resist a strong urge to delete every lame thing I have ever said. I was horrified and embarrassed at things I had written. Like, this. Really? Shoot. Me. Dead.
Sometimes I was a tad out of left field, but potentially insightful.
Then there were posts with incriminating pictures. Oy.
There were many times that I posted things that I absolutely loved and thought were great, but others, not so much. Hmph.
Ugh, and then there is just the maladroit crap (gosh I love the thesaurus) that comes out of my insane head on one odd day.
I even had moments where I was able to scrape out 702 words on wind.
There was also some creative flops.
I have been blogging since 2006 and saw that yesterday I had written and posted my 450th post. When I first started, well, I shudder to think of that actually, I wish I could erase it all, but that would be silly. You have to start somewhere and grow. Hennyway, I have tried so hard to be a good blogger that sometimes my efforts are incredibly grandiose, pretentious and appear phony in that I was over-doing things. Other times they were just completely immature and nonsensical without an ounce of direction.
My efforts as of late have not necessarily improved that much, though. I still love big words and have certain favorites and will always try to expand my vocabulary but the difference is that now I put a bit more thought into my posts and try to appear as though I’m not trying so hard, even when I am. Is it working? Pft, I have no clue.
I feel more comfortable as a blogger though. That is the important thing. When there are news stories on the television or articles written about bloggers and how this new wave of connecting to others is sweeping the world I feel proud to say, “hey, I’m one of them!”. Moms seem to find blogging especially satisfying. The critics of mommybloggers and other scientific research gurus who feel that mommy-blogging is a way to disconnect yourself from real life and hide on the internet can kiss our collective asses. We ALL have real lives outside of the internet. I have real friends, real family, real problems. I simply enjoy writing, like the rest of us. It’s my hobby. It is my creativity. It is my outlet for thoughts that build in my head day to day. There are days where I spend hours on the computer reading blogs, writing my own and connecting with my cyber-friends. There are also plenty of other days where I’m not even home long enough to check my email because I’m doing “real things” outside of my home! Gasp!
Aaaannnnnd the claws retract, defenses down….
So, while I would like to erase my beginnings from the map, I guess I owe them gratitude instead. They showed me what not to do and how to better myself as a blogger. Without failure we can never know success, right? OH! Wait! Silly me, I still don’t know success! Heh. Regardless, I hope I have moved up the ladder a couple of steps.
But, you know what really makes me happy? Readers that have been with me from the very beginning or close to it, and are with me today… like Shionge. She is a pal, a peach, a gem! Lioux… you’re a peach too baby. Sweet sweet Lori. And Riley, whom I always profess my love to.
There are so many more of you who continue to stop by, I see you. I thank you. I love you. I read your blogs, often times in my bloglines so my visits may not register, but I’m there! I have evolved because of all of you. I’m greatful to have 15 subscribers but would love to have more. I used to have 16 but someone dropped me… that’s ok. I know I’m not the greatest blogger on the planet, nor am I even close to mediocre, but it’s fine! Really! I’m coo wit it. (See how cool I am that I can drop the L and the H and sound totally hip? Yeahhh)
One thing blogging has really shown me is that no matter how bad I am at it, I absolutely love writing. I really do. I have visions of being a freelancer for some magazine or newspaper. But, that requires talent and oh, um, maybe education? The classes I’m taking in college are getting me closer to my Associates degree and the classes that require several term papers are the ones I excel in. I just don’t think a few A’s and an Associates degree are going to get me gigs for a magazine. So I will stick with this for now.
I guess this stupid post is about blogger reflection, then and now, where we started and where we are. It’s about not hiding the embarrassing stuff from the beginning but accepting it and just trying to do better each and every post. Who would have thought that this, blogging, typing your thoughts out to strangers, would become important, thoughtworthy or prolific.
And now, I resume real life. Screaming at my boys. Feeding my face. Pooping. Letting my friend’s dog out while they are away. Facebooking (wait, that’s not real life either). Going to Wal-Mart. Preparing for my son to start preschool again next week. Birthday parties. Paying bills (thank you Lord for Checkfree and internet payments). And whatever else crosses my path day to day…
Happy Blogging. Happy Labor Day weekend. Much love from me to all of you.
*** Incidentally I just went to my bloglines to begin reading other blogs and noticed I’m now down to 14 subscribers. I try not to take it personal but dayum! But how can you not? I am losing people, that sucks!
I got pulled over today for the first time in about 10 years. The officer hid himself well and I didn’t see him until after I had passed him going 46 in a 30mph zone.
Oops.
As soon as I saw him I knew I was busted. Ten seconds later the lights were flashing and I was pulling over. I have always been very polite whenever I was pulled over because being nice and respectful gets you a lot farther than being an ass to them.
So, this giant officer gets out of his patrol car and walks up to my window and says the usual, “GET OUT OF THE CAR NOW WITH YOUR HANDS UP!”
No no, wait, he didn’t say that. “License and proof of insurance please?” and as I’m handing them over he finishes with, “The reason I pulled you over is because you were doing 46 in a 30 zone.”
“I know, I saw you sir. I’m so sorry.” I said politely and with a smile.
“I’ll be right back.” He replied.
‘A little surly, but I can manage that,’ I thought to myself. I was very confident that I wasn’t going to get a ticket because I acknowledged my error (pfft, error, he’s lucky I wasn’t doing 55 like I usually do) and have not had a ticket in 10+ plus years, which he would soon see. I was certain my strategy would work.
As I’m sitting there waiting for my fate to be revealed, this giant monstrosity of an insect lands on my dashboard just inches from my face. I stopped breathing and sat there in awe at its shear size. I’m shocked that I didn’t wet myself. Now, I’m faced with a huge dilemma. I know you are not allowed to get out of your vehicle when you are being pulled over and yet I’m stuck inside of this metal box of terror with this giant buzzing thing!
GAH!!!!!!!!
I was sitting there praying for him to hurry the hell up and come back to rescue me from the grips of this thing that is about to attack me! Finally I see him emerge from the patrol car and I open my door and step out, to which I hear, “Ma’am, stay in your vehicle!”
“But there is this huge THING in my car and I’m petrified! Can you please get it out!” I said in my best “help me” voice. Yeah, and I really said, “thing”.
He grimaces and I stepped back into my horror because it was either that or potentially get tazed for being a bad girl. Great. Now it’s just me and the monster, again. The fuckerbug is now trying to bat his way out through my windshield and making even more of a ruckus than before! Lord help me.
The officer gets up to my window and sees the bug and, once again, I stopped breathing as it came back over to my side of the car. I apologized profusely and said, “I’m so sorry sir but I’m terrified of bugs and this thing is huge!”
He cracked a smile, finally! I had a book in my hand that I was bravely trying to use to remove the fuckerbug but it wasn’t working. The officer is laughing now and tells me to go ahead and step out and go behind my car, which I do, quickly. Then he hollers around my SUV, “Can I have that book you’re holding please?” to which I reply, “Why YES my knight in shining kevlar!” Heh.
A few seconds later, the damsel in distress (that would be me) is saved from the fuckerbug and is allowed to return to her vehicle. Whew!
Giant officer in Kevlar, you are my hero!! Swoooon.
Oh, and I only got a warning. Whew, again. And I didn’t even have to bust out the, “But I’m late for a church meeting!” Which, I truly was!
