Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Whoooo are you, who who who who.

For the last few weeks my husband has been transferring our home videos onto dvds. It's been great fun watching the kids grow up again. Yesterday when I got home from work he was watching one of our son when he was about 15 months old. I must have just gotten done bathing him because he was running around the living room stark naked. He loved to be naked. I believe babies are nudists at heart. The music playing in the background was I'm Free by The Who. (which happens to be his favorite band now) He was frolicking and dancing to the music. Absolutely adorable!

I went down the hall to see my now grown up son. He happened to be wearing his concert t-shirt from The Who.
Me: I was just watching the "baby you" dancing around naked to I'm free.
Him: Some things never change.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Things you may or may not know about me. Part Deux

21. I started a monthly book club 11 years ago and have only missed reading 6 or 7 of the books.
22. I played with Barbies until I was 13.
23. Jigsaw puzzles are my own personal Hell.
24. I invented the Owl. (story for later)
25. Been married for 28 years.
26. I currently have 4 tattoos
27. I try to like it, but I hate to exercise.
28. I love the mighty monkey from Archie McPhee.
29. I can pick things up with my toes.
30. I'm emotionally pourous-an empath, if you will.
31. I read my horoscope almost daily.
32. Raw spinach hates my tummy.
33 I love the movie Centerstage.
34. I collect religious statues.
35. Strangers feel compelled to tell me their life stories.
36. I love vampire stories. Hello Charlaine Harris! I think you're Fab!
37. Creating art makes me happy.
38. I kiss my dog on the bridge of her nose between 6 to 10 times a day.
39. Pajamas are my favorite thing to wear.
40. I can burp on command.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Things you may or may not know about me

1. *I don't like to be accused of ordering popcorn when I didn't. * see earlier post*
2. If I had a donkey I'd name him Hodie.
3. I don't care for apricots. I'm not anti-apricot, more like Pro-choice apricot. I choose not to eat them.
4. I love Justin Timberlake!!!
5. I can easily spend 4 to 5 hours wandering around Barnes and Noble.
6. I wish I was smarter than I am.
7. I love my family so much it makes my heart hurt.
8. I have 2 compressed discs in my neck. Owwweee!
9. I didn't swear much before and now I have a bit of a potty mouth.
10. Mt left pupil is larger than my right. So when my eyes are dialated I look a a bit like Earthworm Jim.
11. Lies make me sad.
12. I like to give presents more than receive them.
13. I love getting presents.
14. I contradict myself a lot.
15. I have panic attacks in the middle of the night.
16. I make up and sing songs to my dog all the time.
17. My dog loves my singing.
18. I treasure my Tide pen.
19. I use the word retarded a lot.
20. I just spilled coffee on my right breast and the stain is in the shape of Africa.

More to come! I bet you can't wait!

Monday, November 17, 2008

Death of a Salesman

Yesterday my husband, son and I were spending a leisurely day watching t.v. when all of a sudden the doorbell rang. I went to answer the door. It was the freaky neighbor kid standing there holding an enormous box of popcorn. Our family has a history with this kid and his whole family...and just believe me when I say they are a bizarre bunch. Anyhow, the kid says something about a fundraiser. I stopped him and said (very nicely mind you) "I'm not interested, but thank you". He looks at me quite contemptuously, especially for a 12 year old and says "What?"
Me: Um thanks but I don't want to order anything.
Him: WHAT?
Me again: I'm not interested in ordering any popcorn, but thanks.
Him: You already ordered some, this is yours. Shoving the giant box toward me.
Me: Uh... I didn't order any popcorn.
Him: Yes you did.
Me: No, no I didn't.
I look over at my husband and ask him if he ordered any popcorn. He says no.
Me: No one here ordered any popcorn.
He turns to his dad who is sitting in a car with the window rolled down and screams "THEY SAY THEY DIDN'T ORDER ANY." He turns back to me and says " YOU DID! AND I CAN PROVE IT!"
Me: Okay...prove it.
He ran to his dad and got his order form and then ran back. He mumbled and scanned the form.
Me: Can I see the form?
He handed it to me. My name is not on the form.
Me: My name and address are not on your list.
Me: I'm not on your list!
His dad tells him to stop arguing and get in the car. He stomped off in a huff.
I closed the door, exhausted by the bizarre exchange. The whole experience left me feeling really icky. Here's a tip: Next time your doorbell rings, look through the peephole, and if the freaky neighbor kid is standing there holding popcorn....DON"T ANSWER IT!

Friday, September 5, 2008

Me no write so good

Crippity Crappity...I suck at blogging. I'm so sorry I have neglected my um.....2 readers. Anyhoozles....I am going to get back and write something...uh but not today. Please stay tuned for something equally lame as before. Yay me!

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Wedding Bell Blues

I've been married for almost 28 years. That's right, Go Me...and him too of course. Anyhoodle..I was having a conversation about weddings with my son (he's in a wedding this weekend) and we were talking about how crazy expensive it is to host one. People are spending way too much. In some cases you could buy a house for the same amount. I had large wedding for a small town. I have no idea what it cost. I didn't have much to do with the preparations, I just kinda showed up. I would do it differently nowadays. It would be very small and intimate. And not a lot of hoopla.
My wedding was very pretty though. I had six bridesmaids. And actually that was because my husband had that many groomsmen he couldn't do without. It was a lovely ceremony. Although the minister was a real stick- in- the mud. He refused to say" You may kiss the bride". So we had to remember that after he announced us as husband and wife, that's when we could kiss. Well my husband plain forgot when the time came. I said "Hey aren't you going to kiss me?" Everybody laughed.
Then came the reception. Champagne fountain and keg. Everybody was having a grand old time. All of my mother-in-law's friends (that had seen my husband grow up) at one time or another during the reception, came up to me and said "You take care of him, he's very special". Not one person came up to him and told him to take care of me. Isn't that sad? Then it was time for the Father/daughter dance. By the time we got around to it, my dad had sampled the champagne quite a bit. He decided to get fancy and dipped me. He was thrown off balance due to the giant float-like wedding dress and dropped me. Then he fell on top of me. I was knocked unconcious and then grew a huge knot on the back of my head. It didn't seem to put a damper on the merry-making for any of the guests. My new hubby and I left soon after the accident. And to his dismay I had a headache on our wedding night.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

You're a bug on me.

As I've mentioned before, I've been taking a daily morning walk with my son. This morning on our way back home, we were passing this spooky wooded area. All of a sudden a very large, creepy, unrecognizable bug zipped out from the woods and flew around us It then landed on my son's crotch. I screamed: Oh my God there's a giant bug on your crotch! He looked down, swatted it away and screamed: It's huge!!! And I replied The bug or your crotch? He, of course said his crotch. Everytime he looks down it surprises him how enormous it is. I'm so glad he has high self esteem!

Friday, July 25, 2008

I heart lists!

Things I've seen on my 8 minute journey to work

  1. Many squished squirrels and ruined possums
  2. Bad Konigshofen Water Park (that's the name, I don't think it's really bad)
  3. 2 speed traps that usually have someone stopped and getting a ticket (I've been one of those poor souls)
  4. Garage sales aplenty
  5. A man in walking shorts, suspenders (which suspiciously looked like liederhosen), white socks, brown shoes and a black chapeau with a feather. (no lie)
  6. 2 Baptist churches (hey I live in the south)
  7. 3 donut shops (hey I live in the fat south)
  8. A large and I mean large painting of a matador in an ornate gold frame that had been put out for the garbage man. ( why oh why didn't I stop to pick up that treasure?)
  9. The monastery where the nun bones were displayed on the Nun Bones Tour of 1999
  10. 3 gas station/minimarts and 1 regular grocery store
  11. 7 donkeys (2 of which are darling little baby donklettes)
  12. Several goats being arrested by the police...or they were being rounded up by the police (they're pretty dangerous goats)
  13. 1 trailer court (hey I live in the fat trashy south)

Monday, July 21, 2008

Wanna pet the ferret?

A couple of years ago I was in Seattle with my husband and best friend. We decided to be tourists and go check out Pike Place Market. It's such a cool place to explore. We found a place to park the car a couple blocks away and started walking. We had to wait for the light to change to cross the street. Now here is a little quirk about me....I attract strangers. I think it might be because I make eye contact, or I give off a friendly aura, who knows. So of course I make eye contact with a man. He was cupping a knitted cap in his hands. Nestled inside the cap was a white ferret. "Wanna pet the ferret, it's soft as a kitten" he says to me. "Um...no thanks". He was wearing a handmade pretend I.D. tag around his neck claiming he was from some "Save the animals" group. He begged us for some money, we said no and Thank you Jesus the light changed. We went on our way. Well our little group had a lovely time checking out all the funky vendors and kooky little shops. We had lunch at the Athenean Cafe. (The one from Sleepless in Seattle). A guy dressed in a pirate costume came and asked us if we had found his lost cell phone. It was quite an interesting afternoon. We then decided to go down to the waterfront. You have to wind your way down and take a weird creepy elevator, but eventually we made it down there. We walked along and were enjoying the view. My husband spotted an ice cream shop and decided he was in need of a refreshment. My friend and I were just enjoying the view. And guess who I make eye contact with? You guessed it. Ferret Man. He comes up to me and says "You wanna pet the ferret, it's soft as a kitten". "Um ..no thanks". Hey... did that seem like a deja vu? But.... now he adds that this ferret really needs our donations, because he had rescued it from a crack house. That's right, the ferret had grown up in a crack house and was addicted to crack. Not only that, it was now mentally retarded, due to the damage from the drugs. Luckily some children happened along and were totally thrilled to pet the "soft as a kitten, crack addicted, retarded ferret". We quickly made our escape. A couple of months later my son and I came up with a rap song about the incident.
With this ferret you'll be smitten
Cuz he's soft as a kitten.
Stay away from his mouth or you might get bitten.
Cuz this ferret's on crack,
and he might attack.
This ferret is awesome, but you better watch your back.
So won't you start,
opening your heart.
This ferret needs your money, cuz he's mentally retarded.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Damn dirty apes.

When I was growing up, my friends and I would go to the movies each time the picture changed. This was back when they had to deliver the film in a covered wagon I guess, because a double feature would play in our single screen theater for weeks to months at a time. I remember being so excited standing in line to get my ticket to see Planet of the Apes. I was with my best friend J. at the time. Being the polite and nice friend that I was, I let J. cut in front of me. Uh oh....forshadowing....
So we watch "Planet" and yes, we were totally titilated by Charlton's naked butt flashing for one second as he dove into the lake. And we were totally devastated when we saw the crumbling buried Statue of Liberty at the end.
The first movie ended and then there was intermission. Oh isn't old timey stuff sweet? Anyhoodle during intermission the theatre management had a raffle drawing for prizes. The movie tickets were raffle tickets. The big prize was a purple Stingray bike with butterfly handles and a purple sparkly banana seat. Oh my God..my dream bike. Can you imagine what it would look like with an STP sticker plastered on the seat. Fabulous. But...guess who's ticket was drawn for the big prize.....that's right--J's ! Um...what? That beautiful bike should have been mine...Mine I tell you! I was in front of her in line and my stupid manners got the best of me and I let her get her ticket first. J. was super excited to win it. Well sure she was. But why didn't she realize that beautiful bike was rightfully mine. Oh, I acted totally happy for her but my heart was breaking in two.
I eventually got a purple bike...An upright Schwinn with a regular seat. And don't get me wrong, I was grateful for it. My parents gave it to me as a birthday gift. Please don't think dang...what a spoiled brat. But it wasn't a stingray. It didn't have butterfly handles. No banana seat. Some things you just don't get over.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

A rose by any other name...etc

From all the stories that my mother has told me about my childhood...well um I guess I was pretty imaginative...maybe even a bit quirky.
When I was very little, we're talkin' 2-3 years old. I played a game where I would fall to the ground dying. I was a dead duck, shot by a mean cowboy. The only way to bring me back to life was to feed me a dead duck pill. Duh, makes sense to me. My mother always saved me. I mean, who wants a dead duck in their living room? No matter how cute and little. I also liked to pretend that I was a puppy. My mom hated it when I would lick her ankles. She still hates it for that matter...weird.
When I was only 3 years old, so take that into consideration, okay? I had a baby doll. I loved my dolly very much. I wanted her to have the most beautiful name befitting a beloved family member. I named her "Manure". Remember when I told you I was only 3? It sounded lovely to me. Almost a melodic sound to the name. My sister came upon me rocking my little Manure and singing her a little manurey lullaby. She was horrified.She rushed downstairs to find our Mother and to tell her what I had named my baby. Mom came up to my room and explained to me that maybe Manure wasn't quite the right name for my beloved doll. "It means horsey poop." "You don't want to call your dolly horsey poop, do you?" Well of course I didn't want to call my doll horsey poop. But I guess my memory wasn't quite developed because I reverted back to calling her Manure a couple of days later. It still has a nice ring to it....don'tcha think?

Monday, July 14, 2008

Meat Bouquet

Have you seen those stores or at least the ads for Edible Arrangements? They take fruit and cut it into the shape of different flowers and make beautiful arrangements that you can send to people. Instead of dying flowers, you get a fruity arrangement that you get to eat.....hence the name. Well I was thinking of the folks that maybe don't like fruit. What about the carnivores of the world?....How about an arrangement for them? You know how men love meat!Well Ta Dah! I came up with "Balogna Rose"! The edible meat bouquet. Just think of the possibilities. There are so many different kinds of lunch meat and so many ways to make them into a pretty and delicious arrangments.Think about sending a loved one a dozen roses made out of balogna. Now that says love, don't you think? I don't have all the details worked out yet, or the investors, or the balogna. But it's on the horizon folks.....oh yes it is! Mmmmmmmm, balogna!

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Ozone Schmozone!

As far as personal hygiene goes, usually I use Secret stick deodorant. I've always chosen it because: "It's strong enough for a man, but made for a woman". Well I guess I was feeling poor so I decided to try an aerosol-style cheapo brand of deodorant. First time out, I exit the shower, towel off and begin the application. Sometimes my body just takes over and spazzes out, because all of a sudden...it's like the can came to life and jumped out of my hand and crashed to the hard tile floor. The nozzle snapped off. It didn't just pop off to where you could jam it back on. No...it broke off. The can started spewing out a thick, giant cloud of ozone killing mist. I panicked. I tried to jam the broken nozzle back on the can. Meanwhile being asphixiated by chemicals. I thought about running with it through the house to throw it outside. Luckily I remembered that I was stark naked. I wouldn't want to scare the neighbors. I screamed for my husband who came a running. He threw a towel over the geysering monstrosity and calmly walked it outside. It felt like my lungs were going to collapse, but at least they weren't sweating. So anyhoodle, thanks to my heroic husband the crisis was averted. Sort of. Sorry Planet Earth.

P.S. I love using paper towels...so on the flip side.... Suck it Planet Earth!

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

What do you think of the rectum as a whole?

Ok...for the faint of heart....I'm warning you. Blog of graphic nature coming up.
About 15 years ago, I had to have reconstructive surgery on my *ahem* bunghole. I ended up with a nasty fissure up in that area. Oh Lordy it was painful. And just for clairification, I don't know how it happened. Don't jump to any conclusions. Nothing entered that delicate area. Hey folks, as far as I'm concerned, that's an exit only ramp. So for heaven's sake, get your mind out of the gutter. I can't really tell you went on during the surgery, since I was asleep and all. But before they will let you go home, you have to drink something and pee. Well, with this kind of surgery, they bandage you up by taping your butt cheeks together. Let me tell you, you can't pee when things are bound tightly down there. I asked the wonderfully kind nurse if we could free my ass from it's tapes of bondage. She complied. Yay! Free at last. Free at last. Thank God I can pee at last.
Ok....fast forward two weeks. Now I have to go back to the Doctor to have him check over the healing process. I go into the examining room and the nurse asks me to strip from the waist down. Then she hands me a bundle of cloth. I'm thinking it's the regulation sheet that they give you when you're at the " ladybusiness" doctor. She leaves the room, I strip and shake out the sheet. Low and behold, there is a perfect circle cut out of the center of it. Um....what the heck? I know I can be slow at times. However I just couldn't figure this out. Do I put it over my head and wear it like a poncho? Thank goodness I took a minute to think that through. How embarrasing would it have been to be sitting there wearing it like that? No....I'll just climb up and sit on the paper covered table and drape it over my naked parts. The nurse comes back in and pulls a step out from the side of the table. She tells me to climb off the table and kneel on the step. She called it the "praying position".
So I'm thinking:
Now I lay me down
to sleep
Here's my butthole
take a peek
She throws the sheet over my backside with my heinie poking through the hole. Okay, you probably saw this coming. But when you're naked and having to show a very private spot of your body to a virtual stranger, you don't always think straight. From that point on, that sheet has been lovingly referred to as the "Butt Poncho".
Anyhow...All was well and my bottom healed beautifully. That, by the way was a direct quote from the doctor. I took it as a compliment.

Marking your territory

I've been trying (sort of) to get back into shape. I'm not ginormous or anything, but I sure do need to firm the old lady up. So I've been walking in my neighborhood early in the morning. I've taken to dragging my wonderful son along with me, and it has proven to be one of my favorite times of the day. We talk about all kinds of things. Movies, literature and life in general. And as we're walking I point out all the dog poop along our journey. Not because I love poop, but I'm alerting him to the dangers of stepping in it. I'm sure he sees it for himself, and yet I must announce a new sighting each and every time.

There is a section along the way that some one has marked the pavement with spray paint. I'm pretty sure it's Zorro. About every 3 yards a white Z is painted. So we remark to each other....Zorro was here, oh look Zorro was there too. And so on and so on. But right next to one of the Z's is a big pile o' poop. Hmmmm....Looks like Zorro pooped here. Oh ..hahahahahaha. Aren't poop jokes the funniest? Maybe I do love poop.

Saturday, June 21, 2008

tick, tick tick...BOOM!

As far back as I can remember, I've had a problem with noises. I don't mean every noise, but things like finger tapping, faucets dripping, and clock ticking. Some folks find these sounds soothing. Me? No! They turn me into a stark raving mad lunatic. Yes, it's the noises. Not my fault. No sirree. Uh Uh. No way. Not my fault, I say. But the thing that really makes me super duper, over the top, fists flying crazy is GUM POPPING! My darling sister was a master at this...um skill? I don't know if she was bitten by a radioactive spider or what, but this is totally is one of her super powers. It's like she has a a special set of teeth and a microphone imbedded in her jaw, because the level of sound was and still is unbelievable. Now when we were growing up, and someone would offer her a stick of gum, I would feel the panic start to rise in me. And holy crap on a stick, if I was trapped in a car when this would occur....well, you know the look of terror on Bruce Banner's face before he turns into the Incredible Hulk? Well that was me. Because look out! I would feel the anger rising and.....KABOOM! I would start yelling. I don't even remember if I first asked nicely for her to stop. I'm sure I did. I have impeccable manners. But she wouldn't listen. Plus, I swear, she loved to torture me. Which is the duty of all big sisters. And when my fury would reach the physical level, that's when our mother would intervene. Oh.....the betrayal. She would pull me off of Snappy McPopperson and tell me to go and look up the meaning of tolerance in the dictionary. What? I'm the one in trouble?....Mother, can you hear the ear-bleeding popping that is coming from that girl's mouth? Ack!.... Well as you can see, I'm quite scarred from those early years. And I am reeeeeeeaaaaallllly well aquainted with the definition of tolerance since I had to look it up a jillion times in my childhood.

I now live across the country from my sister and I miss her terribly. I recently had a brief but lovely visit with her. But at one point she reached for a stick of gum..........Where the f**k is the dictionary?

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Third time's a charm.

First thing yesterday morning I took my little doggie for a walk. She pooped three different times on our journey. I have to say that when I was picking up turds for the third time...........not so charming.

Don't pee on my leg and tell me it's raining.

I think it would be great if I was given a law degree due to all the many hours I've logged watching "Judge Judy" and "Law and Order".


Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Where crazy never stops!

I work at a mental health center. I'm the person that answers the phones, so I'm the first person to deal with any of the crazy folks that come our way. It can be a very interesting and wacktastic.
Last week a dude called and wanted to know if we provided "anger management" classes. I said no, but that we have several therapists that deal with those kind of issues, and would he like to make an appointment? He wanted to know how much a session was. So I quoted him the price. He then asked how many sessions it would take to clear up his problem I told him I really couldn't say. That would have to be a decision between him and his therapist. He started to get a bit peeved and demanded to know HOW MANY SESSIONS WOULD IT TAKE AND HOW MUCH WAS THIS GOING TO COST HIM! I told him it depended on how angry he was. Mayyyyyyybe not the most professional response . He replied rather loudly "MAYBE YOU NEED ANGER MANAGEMENT". I thanked him for his suggestion and hung up the phone.