Well, the book is coming along. It's changed itself about 20 times. I have no control over it! Anyhow, I don't know if the humor has had a chance to come through. I did a lot of crap at the beginning, so I need to edit A LOT. I wish I could just put the funniest posts up so people could read them.
Hey, did I tell ya'll about the time my Mama woke up chewing gum? Okay, well...it happened like this. My Daddy used to snore like a wombat or some other snore-y type animal. Nothing stopped him. We would touch him and say, "Turn over!" He'd start up again. This was before those Cosmonaut facial breathing machines that everyone seems to be using these days. That seems to solve it. Anyhow, my Mom had to wear earplugs in order to go to sleep and stay asleep. She is one of those people who love to tell you every last minute detail of her weird assed dreams. So, one morning, she came up to me and said, "Do you know what happened last night?" Well, there are so many possible answers...and I was a teenager, so I just said "Nope. I sure don't."
Well, she launched into this long description of her dream. It was boring as hell, but the end made it all worthwhile.
"And then I was chewing gum in the dream, and you know what I did?" Me: Nope. "I woke up chewing my earplugs!!" I proceeded to laugh my ass off. One of those really good laughs wear you really do fall on the floor or nearby furniture and you can't stop. You want to ask questions, but when you start to speak, you just keep laughing. When I was laughing, my Mom got all offended. Which made me laugh harder. After I got myself settled, she said, "That isn't even as good as the time that I was ice skating with penguins." Oh dear lord have mercy. I thought I'd have to go to the emergency room. Laughing that hard and long can't be good for you.
I don't remember if I told you about the time I put every single box of condoms in her grocery cart when she wasn't looking. THAT. WAS. AMAZING. She was babbling about how she had not put those in her cart. The cashier was just saying, "Do you want them or not?" I was staring at the floor snorting and trying not to laugh. I got into some trouble about that, but damn, it was so worth it. She is very lady like and very prudish. Having something like that happening to her is incredibly humiliating. Which is why it's funny. Why do we find humiliating people so funny? Like, when someone falls...say you don't laugh. Go ahead. Liar. You do. Unless there is an injury or something, you laugh. You remember it forever, too. Then you start laughing all over again.
I have to have surgery next week. I'd tell you why but it is far too humiliating. I feel like throwing up because of how gross it is. I'll spare you.
Helpful Tip: Magma is dangerous. Stay away from it.
Thursday, July 30, 2015
Saturday, May 9, 2015
Well, I'm still here...
Hey, ya'll. Hey, they just tried to change my spelling of ya'll. It's a contraction. It means "you all". I put the apostrophe in the right place.
Anyhow, it is almost summer...it becomes a teacher's favorite time of the year, except there is about four times more work...paperwork, grading, field days, field trips, etc.
I just bought a new washer. I am so ashamed that that is news. However, I love it and try to do laundry pretty much every second I am home. It is amazing. Steam, allergen cycle, every single thing you can imagine...and it looks like the Death Star or something. It can do a load of towels or anything really, in like 20 minutes. UH-MAZING. Next? Matching dryer, new fridge, new dishwasher. This house is falling the hell apart, and I'll be damned if it falls apart with old appliances. OH, and a new countertop. Quartz. Not granite. Everyone has that crap. I have a box of chunks of different granite in my classroom that a geologist gave the students. However, the thought of a ton of second graders carrying around chunks of granite is a scary proposition to me. Imagine the chaos and injuries on the bus, for God's sake. Plus, in this part of Texas, granite is very easy to come by from the actual quarry. Limestone is everywhere, too. It's the bane of everyone's existence. No basements, EXPENSIVE pools..hard to start a good garden unless it's raised bed.
I found a brand new obsession. I mean that in a non frightening way, of course. It's a man, I mean a show with a man in it. It's called "Property Brothers", and I think I am going to marry one of the twins named Jonathan. Why? He is perfect in looks, seems funny, smart and is handy with tools. Win/Win/Win/Win. Google that dude. Tell me he isn't hot. Go ahead. Try. You can't, can you? I didn't think so. His twin is also amazingly good looking, but I can tell the difference, plus he has a girlfriend or some such nonsense and I have devoted my heart to Jonathan. Wallsterham? He doesn't seem to care. Another WIN for me. My children think I've lost my mind. I quickly went from Ryan Gosling to Jonathan. PLUS...he's an interior designer as well as a contractor and producer, etc. Why isn't he mine? No clue. I will try to rectify that....legally, of course.
I have lost a crap ton of weight. I'm using HCG. Try it. It is the best thing ever. You don't even think of food. Weight falls off. Really, really fast. Still healthy. All I eat is salad. I am limited in fruit, protein, and no carbs, fat or sugar. Seems like a pretty reasonable diet, actually. If I do eat something I shouldn't, welllll...my intestines don't appreciate it, and make their disapproval quite obvious. I will be back into high school weight soon. Steroids for my vertebrae and pinched nerves made me do that "fat retaining" bullshit. No matter what I did...run like a freak everyday, enter races, do well, eat healthy, protein shakes, no carbs, no fat, no sugar...nothing worked. So, now...I've been off the steroid for like...I don't know...4 years? Keep the pain in check with a chiropractor...who isn't TAKING MY INSURANCE NOW...AND SHAME ON THEM. I can't do 180.00 three times a damned week. So, I have a hurting neck or back all the time, and they told me no more running. Nothing with any impact. Tell my legs that. Tell my endorphins that. The all salad is my choice...you can eat a certain amount of protein, etc. I just don't do well with a lot of meat. Sushi? Yes please. Just no salmon. Not because I don't like it, but because they say no. I have been craving sushi. That is the only thing. Oh, it's almost Mother's day and I'm attempting to justify a couple of cupcakes. Eat at a restaurant? I'm terrified I would be sick for days.
My father is on his "one last trip to West Texas". Terrified? Yes, indeed. I dreamed about it last night. Plus we are in the Austin area...why go back to the West Texas wasteland? I mean, he tried to call me the other night and the conversation went like this:
Him: "Hey, girl...babble interference...cutting out...babble garble"/ phone cut out.
Me: "DAD??? DAD? ARE YOU OKAY?" I immediately worried that he was having difficulty with his heart. He sounded bad.
Him: "Yeah...I'm...garble garble/cut out of phone."
Me: "Dad???" phone cut out.
Two minutes later: I called him.
Me: "DAD???? ARE YOU OKAY???"
Him: "Oh yeah...Ahm on my way to West Texas...Ahm comin up to Dryden..."
Me: "OMG...THAT IS HORRIBLE!!!"
Him: "Yeah, it's still ere. Next I reckon I'll go rat through Sannerson". (Sanderson...we drop consonants and blend vowels and weird things.)
Me: "Oh, okay...be careful!"
Him: "All rat den..." garble garble. Phone cut out.
Whew.
But, "last trip"? Just shoot me now.
That's all. I have no mother's day plans, or at least my children don't. I want to see my Mom, but she said my brother was grilling for her. However, I've learned to not expect anything, so that way I don't get upset and disappointed. Birthdays and Christmas are the same. I will get a "guilt" gift a week or so later, but really...who wants a guilt gift? Something from the heart...that's perfect. My best ever was when Jack was 4. We went to the Antique Rose emporium, I bought a couple of roses I really wanted, and they had a kid's craft thing for Mother's Day. Jack made me a bookmark with dried flower and herbs in it. I loved it. It was super simple, and I've done it with my students a few times. The mother's day directly after Tyler was born was amazing. I remember I was nursing him and life had been so hectic, that I hadn't had a chance to just sit alone with him and I looked down at his sweet face and it just hit me like a bomb. Unbearable deep love. It just washed over me, and I thought, "Wow...I'm the luckiest woman on Earth". I had two perfect boys. I had two angels to love and care for. Best thing I've ever done. Delivery was almost death with the second. First was a walk in the park, but I'd do either again in a second. Mother's day 1992, I was newly pregnant with Jack. It was the day I first felt him kick. Best gift.
Tomorrow? Nada, I think. I'll have to go splurge and buy myself something I want.
Happy Mother's Day, everyone. Oh, and I haven't edited. Again, I'm no editor.
Anyhow, it is almost summer...it becomes a teacher's favorite time of the year, except there is about four times more work...paperwork, grading, field days, field trips, etc.
I just bought a new washer. I am so ashamed that that is news. However, I love it and try to do laundry pretty much every second I am home. It is amazing. Steam, allergen cycle, every single thing you can imagine...and it looks like the Death Star or something. It can do a load of towels or anything really, in like 20 minutes. UH-MAZING. Next? Matching dryer, new fridge, new dishwasher. This house is falling the hell apart, and I'll be damned if it falls apart with old appliances. OH, and a new countertop. Quartz. Not granite. Everyone has that crap. I have a box of chunks of different granite in my classroom that a geologist gave the students. However, the thought of a ton of second graders carrying around chunks of granite is a scary proposition to me. Imagine the chaos and injuries on the bus, for God's sake. Plus, in this part of Texas, granite is very easy to come by from the actual quarry. Limestone is everywhere, too. It's the bane of everyone's existence. No basements, EXPENSIVE pools..hard to start a good garden unless it's raised bed.
I found a brand new obsession. I mean that in a non frightening way, of course. It's a man, I mean a show with a man in it. It's called "Property Brothers", and I think I am going to marry one of the twins named Jonathan. Why? He is perfect in looks, seems funny, smart and is handy with tools. Win/Win/Win/Win. Google that dude. Tell me he isn't hot. Go ahead. Try. You can't, can you? I didn't think so. His twin is also amazingly good looking, but I can tell the difference, plus he has a girlfriend or some such nonsense and I have devoted my heart to Jonathan. Wallsterham? He doesn't seem to care. Another WIN for me. My children think I've lost my mind. I quickly went from Ryan Gosling to Jonathan. PLUS...he's an interior designer as well as a contractor and producer, etc. Why isn't he mine? No clue. I will try to rectify that....legally, of course.
I have lost a crap ton of weight. I'm using HCG. Try it. It is the best thing ever. You don't even think of food. Weight falls off. Really, really fast. Still healthy. All I eat is salad. I am limited in fruit, protein, and no carbs, fat or sugar. Seems like a pretty reasonable diet, actually. If I do eat something I shouldn't, welllll...my intestines don't appreciate it, and make their disapproval quite obvious. I will be back into high school weight soon. Steroids for my vertebrae and pinched nerves made me do that "fat retaining" bullshit. No matter what I did...run like a freak everyday, enter races, do well, eat healthy, protein shakes, no carbs, no fat, no sugar...nothing worked. So, now...I've been off the steroid for like...I don't know...4 years? Keep the pain in check with a chiropractor...who isn't TAKING MY INSURANCE NOW...AND SHAME ON THEM. I can't do 180.00 three times a damned week. So, I have a hurting neck or back all the time, and they told me no more running. Nothing with any impact. Tell my legs that. Tell my endorphins that. The all salad is my choice...you can eat a certain amount of protein, etc. I just don't do well with a lot of meat. Sushi? Yes please. Just no salmon. Not because I don't like it, but because they say no. I have been craving sushi. That is the only thing. Oh, it's almost Mother's day and I'm attempting to justify a couple of cupcakes. Eat at a restaurant? I'm terrified I would be sick for days.
My father is on his "one last trip to West Texas". Terrified? Yes, indeed. I dreamed about it last night. Plus we are in the Austin area...why go back to the West Texas wasteland? I mean, he tried to call me the other night and the conversation went like this:
Him: "Hey, girl...babble interference...cutting out...babble garble"/ phone cut out.
Me: "DAD??? DAD? ARE YOU OKAY?" I immediately worried that he was having difficulty with his heart. He sounded bad.
Him: "Yeah...I'm...garble garble/cut out of phone."
Me: "Dad???" phone cut out.
Two minutes later: I called him.
Me: "DAD???? ARE YOU OKAY???"
Him: "Oh yeah...Ahm on my way to West Texas...Ahm comin up to Dryden..."
Me: "OMG...THAT IS HORRIBLE!!!"
Him: "Yeah, it's still ere. Next I reckon I'll go rat through Sannerson". (Sanderson...we drop consonants and blend vowels and weird things.)
Me: "Oh, okay...be careful!"
Him: "All rat den..." garble garble. Phone cut out.
Whew.
But, "last trip"? Just shoot me now.
That's all. I have no mother's day plans, or at least my children don't. I want to see my Mom, but she said my brother was grilling for her. However, I've learned to not expect anything, so that way I don't get upset and disappointed. Birthdays and Christmas are the same. I will get a "guilt" gift a week or so later, but really...who wants a guilt gift? Something from the heart...that's perfect. My best ever was when Jack was 4. We went to the Antique Rose emporium, I bought a couple of roses I really wanted, and they had a kid's craft thing for Mother's Day. Jack made me a bookmark with dried flower and herbs in it. I loved it. It was super simple, and I've done it with my students a few times. The mother's day directly after Tyler was born was amazing. I remember I was nursing him and life had been so hectic, that I hadn't had a chance to just sit alone with him and I looked down at his sweet face and it just hit me like a bomb. Unbearable deep love. It just washed over me, and I thought, "Wow...I'm the luckiest woman on Earth". I had two perfect boys. I had two angels to love and care for. Best thing I've ever done. Delivery was almost death with the second. First was a walk in the park, but I'd do either again in a second. Mother's day 1992, I was newly pregnant with Jack. It was the day I first felt him kick. Best gift.
Tomorrow? Nada, I think. I'll have to go splurge and buy myself something I want.
Happy Mother's Day, everyone. Oh, and I haven't edited. Again, I'm no editor.
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
Would you rather?
Hey y'all. I suppose this would you rather do this or that has become pretty popular. A friend asked me these, so I am passing them on to whoever is out there reading this.
1. Would you rather smell bleach or chlorine? (Very strange and makes no sense.) I guess chlorine. That means I am next to the pool.
2. Chocolate or vanilla? I cannot choose. I like a little of both together.
3. Tall men or short men? Tall. Definitely tall.
4. Dark hair or light hair? Well, I prefer men with dark hair, but I have blonde (silver...you know glitter strands of wisdom..) I am not attracted to blonde men usually.
5. Skinny or healthy with muscle? Idiot question. Healthy with muscle. Damn. Maybe skinny. Now, healthy. Yeah.
6. Cats or dogs? SERIOUSLY??? DOGS.
7. House or apartment? I'm all grown up. House.
8. Cake or pie? Pie. With that, you can have two desserts, because you can put ice cream on top and it only counts as one dessert. Win-Win.
9.Educated or blue collar? I prefer an educated person..or man I guess this is asking. I prefer educated people in general, though. However, that isn't to say that someone who is blue collar isn't also educated. So, both.
10. Army or Navy? HOOOAH! ARMY!
11. North or South? South, sugah.
12. Children or no? Um...too late. I have two boys. They are in college, but they are still my babies. If you were to seriously ask me if I wanted MORE right now? One day I'd say yes, the next day I'd say "AW HELL NAW". Then I'd see a sweet little baby and be on board again. However, I'm over 35, so it would probably be born with 5 heads or something. I'd feel a little guilty for my selfishness, then.
13. Beach or mountains? BEACH! Unless I want to see some snow and ski and snowboard, which happens almost never. But I always want peace, serenity and waves and sun.
14. Neutral or color? Balance. I like gray. I like very pale sea green or blue. Then I like pops of color like orange or bright turquoise or something like that.
15. Moves or Home with a DVD: Either
There you go. Happy now? Everyone who reads this, must post their own somewhere...Facebook...your blog...whatever.
NUGGET OF WISDOM: NEVER PLAY WITH GUNS.
1. Would you rather smell bleach or chlorine? (Very strange and makes no sense.) I guess chlorine. That means I am next to the pool.
2. Chocolate or vanilla? I cannot choose. I like a little of both together.
3. Tall men or short men? Tall. Definitely tall.
4. Dark hair or light hair? Well, I prefer men with dark hair, but I have blonde (silver...you know glitter strands of wisdom..) I am not attracted to blonde men usually.
5. Skinny or healthy with muscle? Idiot question. Healthy with muscle. Damn. Maybe skinny. Now, healthy. Yeah.
6. Cats or dogs? SERIOUSLY??? DOGS.
7. House or apartment? I'm all grown up. House.
8. Cake or pie? Pie. With that, you can have two desserts, because you can put ice cream on top and it only counts as one dessert. Win-Win.
9.Educated or blue collar? I prefer an educated person..or man I guess this is asking. I prefer educated people in general, though. However, that isn't to say that someone who is blue collar isn't also educated. So, both.
10. Army or Navy? HOOOAH! ARMY!
11. North or South? South, sugah.
12. Children or no? Um...too late. I have two boys. They are in college, but they are still my babies. If you were to seriously ask me if I wanted MORE right now? One day I'd say yes, the next day I'd say "AW HELL NAW". Then I'd see a sweet little baby and be on board again. However, I'm over 35, so it would probably be born with 5 heads or something. I'd feel a little guilty for my selfishness, then.
13. Beach or mountains? BEACH! Unless I want to see some snow and ski and snowboard, which happens almost never. But I always want peace, serenity and waves and sun.
14. Neutral or color? Balance. I like gray. I like very pale sea green or blue. Then I like pops of color like orange or bright turquoise or something like that.
15. Moves or Home with a DVD: Either
There you go. Happy now? Everyone who reads this, must post their own somewhere...Facebook...your blog...whatever.
NUGGET OF WISDOM: NEVER PLAY WITH GUNS.
Monday, January 12, 2015
Question and answers. AGAIN?!
Hey my mammals,
I have inexplicably had some readers of this blog(which I thought pretty much nobody ever read) ask me questions once more.
I will just dive in. I swear....this is weird.
1. Joseph from someplace in Canada (I could check...but it's Canada..) "How old are you?" I am 48 years old. I hate that. I look in the mirror and think, "WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED!"
2. A. in South Carolina: "Why don't you ever say your husband's real name?" Well, I really never thought about it. He is a man of many names. Some include: "Sanford"; "Wallsterham Lincoln"; "The Ice Man" (HAHAHAHAHAHA..it was his "street name when he was a cop.) "Emperor"; "Emperor Wallace" and various words that just describe him.
3. Don in Washington state: "Why did you stop writing for awhile?" Well that's just really none of your business. No offense. Actually, have you ever had anything nice after the phrase, "No offense, but..." Nothing good comes from that.
4. R. in Slovenia or Slovakia...some "slo" place. (How the hell does that even work?) How many children do you have?
Had you read the last couple of posts, you would know the answer to that. I don't repeat. Because it is a pain. But okay, I have two grown boys.
5. F in some town in Wisconsin(I actually think I know who this is..) What words to you hate to hear?
This is EASY. Let's get started:
1. Panty or panties. It's a disgusting word.
2. Any words that has a lot of "s" or "l" together. It trips me up every time. Actually, that happens with "ch", too.
3. fish
4. hot
5. pork
6. words with the letter/u/ that make an "oo" sounds. Irritating.
7.Khalissi...please. Really?
8. I guess that's all I can think of.
6. R in freakin' Vermont? Okay, whatever. "Why are you so negative?" Well, asshat, (see there, you made me break my New Year's resolution. Shame on you.) I suppose I come across as negative because, I pretty much think that these days, the good, decent humans are outnumbered by idiots who mean to cause harm. I am tired of hearing about politics, gun rights, I hated the commercial with some lady singing and animals freezing and shaking. People do that to innocent animals, and I barely stand to live with that knowledge. People kill their own children, even BABIES. There is no punishment that is just. Of course, they plead insanity, get put away and find Jesus and a bunch of nut jobs take up this idiot's case and stand around on the night the asshole takes his or her last walk and they have stupid assed candlelight vigils, and women have adolescent crushes on mass murderers. I don't get that at all. I mean, all of that is pretty negative. That's all you see on the news. Brings a person down, man.
7. F in New Mexico: What is your "type" in a man. Hmmm...very shady there, "F". But who cares, so I will tell you. The person must be male and human. I prefer tall guys and guys with dark hair. I have always been attracted to Latin American men. Its a weakness. I mean, the guys doesn't have to be latin american, just you know, the more swarthy type. (My Grandma called them "swarthy") Actually, just tall and dark and handsome. Cliche' but..you gotta go with it sometimes.
I have never really been attracted to blonde guys or really pale guys. I gotta have a little bit of color. I like eyes. Just you know, nice eyes. I hate it when people with brown eyes wear contacts to give themselves lighter colored eyes. It's just so obvious. And ugly. I am always attracted to extremely smart men, and funny men. If the man likes puppies and babies, I figure he's a pretty good catch now a days. Ohhhh so many men...how stupid I was in my youth.
8.M in Texas: Why don't you do the product reviews of makeup and stuff? Do you have a vlog? Me: Do I have a WHAT? That sounds nastaay. I haven't been doing the reviews because I have been using natural things, like coconut oil, more sunscreen, less facial makeup...you know...It's even tiring thinking about all the things I have to do...use it for awhile, take pictures of before and after, all that crap.
Well, that's all I'm doing tonight. I am going to start Krav Maga to help me keep my strength and endurance while I can't run. I already do Yoga every night...Maybe Krav Maga will beat the hell out of my body so
that it will throw fat off of itself.
Oh, Y'all! I almost forgot. I feel like a pretty wise person, (actually, I'm pretty much a moron..) so I am going to give helpful little nuggets of my wisdom.
TODAY'S WORDS OF WISDOM? GO GET A COLONOSCOPY. NOW.
I have inexplicably had some readers of this blog(which I thought pretty much nobody ever read) ask me questions once more.
I will just dive in. I swear....this is weird.
1. Joseph from someplace in Canada (I could check...but it's Canada..) "How old are you?" I am 48 years old. I hate that. I look in the mirror and think, "WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED!"
2. A. in South Carolina: "Why don't you ever say your husband's real name?" Well, I really never thought about it. He is a man of many names. Some include: "Sanford"; "Wallsterham Lincoln"; "The Ice Man" (HAHAHAHAHAHA..it was his "street name when he was a cop.) "Emperor"; "Emperor Wallace" and various words that just describe him.
3. Don in Washington state: "Why did you stop writing for awhile?" Well that's just really none of your business. No offense. Actually, have you ever had anything nice after the phrase, "No offense, but..." Nothing good comes from that.
4. R. in Slovenia or Slovakia...some "slo" place. (How the hell does that even work?) How many children do you have?
Had you read the last couple of posts, you would know the answer to that. I don't repeat. Because it is a pain. But okay, I have two grown boys.
5. F in some town in Wisconsin(I actually think I know who this is..) What words to you hate to hear?
This is EASY. Let's get started:
1. Panty or panties. It's a disgusting word.
2. Any words that has a lot of "s" or "l" together. It trips me up every time. Actually, that happens with "ch", too.
3. fish
4. hot
5. pork
6. words with the letter/u/ that make an "oo" sounds. Irritating.
7.Khalissi...please. Really?
8. I guess that's all I can think of.
6. R in freakin' Vermont? Okay, whatever. "Why are you so negative?" Well, asshat, (see there, you made me break my New Year's resolution. Shame on you.) I suppose I come across as negative because, I pretty much think that these days, the good, decent humans are outnumbered by idiots who mean to cause harm. I am tired of hearing about politics, gun rights, I hated the commercial with some lady singing and animals freezing and shaking. People do that to innocent animals, and I barely stand to live with that knowledge. People kill their own children, even BABIES. There is no punishment that is just. Of course, they plead insanity, get put away and find Jesus and a bunch of nut jobs take up this idiot's case and stand around on the night the asshole takes his or her last walk and they have stupid assed candlelight vigils, and women have adolescent crushes on mass murderers. I don't get that at all. I mean, all of that is pretty negative. That's all you see on the news. Brings a person down, man.
7. F in New Mexico: What is your "type" in a man. Hmmm...very shady there, "F". But who cares, so I will tell you. The person must be male and human. I prefer tall guys and guys with dark hair. I have always been attracted to Latin American men. Its a weakness. I mean, the guys doesn't have to be latin american, just you know, the more swarthy type. (My Grandma called them "swarthy") Actually, just tall and dark and handsome. Cliche' but..you gotta go with it sometimes.
I have never really been attracted to blonde guys or really pale guys. I gotta have a little bit of color. I like eyes. Just you know, nice eyes. I hate it when people with brown eyes wear contacts to give themselves lighter colored eyes. It's just so obvious. And ugly. I am always attracted to extremely smart men, and funny men. If the man likes puppies and babies, I figure he's a pretty good catch now a days. Ohhhh so many men...how stupid I was in my youth.
8.M in Texas: Why don't you do the product reviews of makeup and stuff? Do you have a vlog? Me: Do I have a WHAT? That sounds nastaay. I haven't been doing the reviews because I have been using natural things, like coconut oil, more sunscreen, less facial makeup...you know...It's even tiring thinking about all the things I have to do...use it for awhile, take pictures of before and after, all that crap.
Well, that's all I'm doing tonight. I am going to start Krav Maga to help me keep my strength and endurance while I can't run. I already do Yoga every night...Maybe Krav Maga will beat the hell out of my body so
that it will throw fat off of itself.
Oh, Y'all! I almost forgot. I feel like a pretty wise person, (actually, I'm pretty much a moron..) so I am going to give helpful little nuggets of my wisdom.
TODAY'S WORDS OF WISDOM? GO GET A COLONOSCOPY. NOW.
Saturday, December 27, 2014
Love Note to My Children
I am very fortunate to have given birth to two amazing babies. I mean...AMAZING. I wanted to have children, and as soon as I married, I tried to get pregnant. It took a couple of months but it worked. The feeling of elation I felt when the extra line showed up on the home pregnancy test almost made me hyperventilate. I have never been that excited in my life. Both times, even.
My first child is now 22 years old. He is gorgeous, brilliant, creative, and is studying Art in college. Always wanted to be a paleontologist, but then switched to Art two years into college. Let your freak flag fly, my child.
When I went to my first obstetrical appointment with him, and I met my Dr., I was instantaneously in love. He was funny, cute and when I said, "I just want you to know, I HAVE A BIRTH PLAN, AND I WON'T STRAY FROM IT AND NOBODY ELSE BETTER, EITHER!" He smiled and calmly said, "Good, I was going to recommend that." Score one for him. Then I informed him I would be doing Bradley natural childbirth and that Lamaze was a joke. He agreed 100%. He asked pregnant women to take Bradley classes. Score 2 for him. Bradley classes are amazing and last much longer than Lamaze stupidity. Bradley takes more than 6 weeks, so you have to plan, and I've never heard a hospital say that you must take them in order to use their facilities, although with my second child I was told I must take their mandatory Lamaze to give birth there.
Anyhow, Bradley is a miracle, in my opinion. My pregnancy was healthy and completely uneventful. I knew I was in labor because my water broke. Actually, it was like Niagra Falls. If you aren't aware, it never stops. It keeps flowing out until you have the baby. Your body keeps producing it. So, "dry birth" is a total lie. (I think...I'm no doctor.)
We got to the hospital and since my birthing "suite' wasn't ready, I had to wait awhile in a regular labor and delivery room. Boring. Very small. I was bored. Plus, I could hear women screaming. It didn't scare me, because I thought they were being a bit overdramatic. If you can breathe enough to scream like that...well...you must be ok.
24 hours later with almost no pain until about 4 hours before birth, I pushed MAYBE four times and met Jack. His eyes were open and it was a silent, beautiful birth. I grabbed him and held him to me and said, "Hi! I love you! I'm your Mommy and I've been waiting for you for so long..." He stared at me. He blinked slowly. He was the most Zen little dude ever. (I thought at the time..)
Over the years, he has tested my patience to such a degree I'm lucky I'm not in jail. However, my overwhelming, all consuming love for him always wins out. He is cranky, impatient, and usually unpleasant to me. I have threatened him and done many things to rectify it, but he has been this way since the day AFTER he was born when he smelled fried chicken and threw the most amazing fit I've ever seen a newborn throw. He got us kicked out of the Auburn Hills, MI public library and banned for life, and we had the same thing happen on the nature trail adjacent to the library. Why? He said the puppet thing we were doing at Mommy and Me at the library was "tupid" and he wanted to read about Dinosaurs. He could not be stopped from loudly proclaiming these activities childish and beneath him. He continued to attempt to get out of my lap and we ended up struggling on the floor like we were wrestling. "Ma'am, we regret to say we must revoke your library card and ask that you never return." WHAT? WHAT? Philistines.
A few weeks later at the Nature Trail, they had two park rangers give a little talk and hike to children. Of course, my sweet angel and I went. Everything was fine. The rangers were talking about the dangers of taking things out of nature and the "leave no trace" policy, when my child raised his chubby little arm. (he was two years old when all of this happened.) The ranger called on him and my baby boy said, "If we leave no trace, how can we find dinosaur bones?" Of course this was all said in "Jackspeak". I was the only person who understood him most of the time. The two kind rangers were about to be blindsided by the wrath of Jack...oh the poor rangers. I was talking through gritted teeth to him..."Jack stop it...we aren't here for dinosaurs! Put your hand down and listen! I will take you home right now and spank your legs if you don't stop this right now!" My words had no affect. Jack would not be dissuaded. After the rangers awkwardly attempted to explain that there were NO dinosaur bones there, Jack said, "Of course they are. Everything was an ocean once. There are fossils everywhere." Touche' Jack. Touche'. The rangers were displeased and Jack continued to insist and I continued to threaten, so they finally asked us to leave and never come back to their presentations. I was stunned and again humiliated, although I don't know why. I picked him up and he began struggling against me. It was much like Friday night at the fights. I got him into his car seat, which was pretty damned almost impossible, and we drove home. He screamed and cried the entire time. It was about a five minute car trip to our house. We got out, and I told him he was going to sit in his room until he could control himself. He didn't care at all. He sat in his room and SCREAMED HIS LUNGS OUT FOR A GOOD 45 MINUTES. The neighbors even came over to check on him. He was a bit of a fit thrower. I didn't give in to him. If he began to throw a fit at a restaurant, we left. If he tried to throw a fit over a toy he wanted, we left. We didn't cajole or plead. Did he care? Nope. Nuh-uh.
He has grown, and he has matured. The maturity is still ongoing, but he is my heart. He is a bit solitary, like me. He has a HORRIBLE temper, like me...but not as bad as the 2-5 year old Jack. He is terribly talented with anything creative. He is a masterful writer, and his painting is amazing. He does not take advice from ANYONE. He is stubborn. He is suffering us peasants for now.
That brings me to my beloved second child. Again, easy pregnancy. Jack was 3 years old. I figured since my brother and I were four years apart as were my husband and his brother, that it would be a good time. Turns out it didn't really matter. Anyhow, this obstetrician was boring. The hospital DEMANDED we take their stupid Lamaze class. At the first class, we had to close our eyes and lay back against our husbands. ( I was the only person who already had a child in the class...the rest were glowing first timers.) Anyhow, we were to close our eyes, (NEVER DO THAT, IT MAKES YOU CONCENTRATE ON THE PAIN.), imagine the word "PAIN" written in the sand and then the wave coming and washing it away....breathe.... I couldn't help it. I guffawed out loud. Which awarded me with a roomful of glares. The teacher asked why I did that and I told her that I had used Bradley and this was all bullcrap I was just there because the hospital forced me to be. I told her when I had my baby, the nurses had been stunned how fast and how silent it had been. They called me a hippie Earth mother. I thought I could go into the surrogate business. She told me to be quiet and do whatever I wanted, but please don't disillusion the others. WHO BY THE WAY WERE ALL HAVING SCHEDULED C-SECTIONS. I was appalled. Who does that? You wait until it's time, then you go and if there is something wrong, the Dr. does a C-Section. You don't plan it around family coming into town or the Dr.s vacation or some dumbass reason. They were saying, that their baby was too big to deliver normally...it was going to be a whopping 8 pounds! Idiots. Cowards. A few weeks later, I gave birth naturally to an 11 pound baby who was 24" long. It was NOT expected but there you are. He came out demanding a steak got God's sake. 8 pounds? Puh. A cakewalk. My first was 7 13.5. So what? The dr.'s had said my second would come quickly and weight probably around 8 pounds. Neither one was true. It was an entirely different situation, and if he had been the first, he would have been the last. I'll spare all of the details, but I thought he and I were going to die, and we would have had it not been for one nurse.
Now, this baby...he was....hmmmm....how should I say this? He was perfect. He slept through the night from the very beginning, he nursed perfectly right away, (of course I knew how to do it, too.) and when he emptied that food source we had to give him formula. HOT formula. He liked it STEAMING HOT. My first? His lips never touched a bottle once in his life. Nursing was all he would do. He went from that at 13 months old to sippy cups and/or straws. This one? He took it any way he could get it. He smiled ALL THE TIME, if he was with me. If he couldn't see me, he screamed and cried. Going to the store with him in the rear facing baby seat was hell. I'd have to pull over every couple of blocks and get out and open the back door so he could see me, kiss him, do whatever, then slam the door, get back in my seat and haul ass to wherever we were going, while he screamed. Out of sight, out of mind, I guess. Guess what? He is now 18, in college and has not changed much since he was born. With the exception of screaming when he couldn't see me. Now, he just comes and checks on me every 10-15 minutes. He is a worry wart. He is sweet and caring and has never yelled at me or used foul language with me.
Two very different boys, but both my heart and soul. They are my reason for living. I honestly feel sorry for people who didn't have them. They are my everything. If everything else disappeared, I would be fine as long as I had them. I've always told them a story since they were babies..I told them that no matter where we were, no matter how near or far, that three of us were connected by a silver string. It would keep us connected always. They both still remember it, and it's gotten me through some hard times. They have grown up, but to me, they are babies. I would give anything to go back to their baby and toddlerhoods. We don't appreciate it when it's happening. We are too worried, or harried or whatever. Now, I could appreciate it. I would hold them more...even when they struggled to get down. I'd smell their heads more. I'd make bathtime longer because that is where they learned their ABC's and many fairy tales and all the sounds of animals. It was just them and me...or earlier, just Jack and me. I would let them make messes and not worry about it. I would cook with them more, allow them to finger paint more, go to parks and watch them play more...without the constant fear that they would get hurt. I'd have them out more where they could meet more children their ages who could be their friends.
I'll never get that chance. I will have to content myself with grandchildren, who, although I will love beyond all reason, better not show up for quite a few years.
This is the truest of love stories. This love cannot and will not ever die. Not even in death. We have a silver string.
My first child is now 22 years old. He is gorgeous, brilliant, creative, and is studying Art in college. Always wanted to be a paleontologist, but then switched to Art two years into college. Let your freak flag fly, my child.
When I went to my first obstetrical appointment with him, and I met my Dr., I was instantaneously in love. He was funny, cute and when I said, "I just want you to know, I HAVE A BIRTH PLAN, AND I WON'T STRAY FROM IT AND NOBODY ELSE BETTER, EITHER!" He smiled and calmly said, "Good, I was going to recommend that." Score one for him. Then I informed him I would be doing Bradley natural childbirth and that Lamaze was a joke. He agreed 100%. He asked pregnant women to take Bradley classes. Score 2 for him. Bradley classes are amazing and last much longer than Lamaze stupidity. Bradley takes more than 6 weeks, so you have to plan, and I've never heard a hospital say that you must take them in order to use their facilities, although with my second child I was told I must take their mandatory Lamaze to give birth there.
Anyhow, Bradley is a miracle, in my opinion. My pregnancy was healthy and completely uneventful. I knew I was in labor because my water broke. Actually, it was like Niagra Falls. If you aren't aware, it never stops. It keeps flowing out until you have the baby. Your body keeps producing it. So, "dry birth" is a total lie. (I think...I'm no doctor.)
We got to the hospital and since my birthing "suite' wasn't ready, I had to wait awhile in a regular labor and delivery room. Boring. Very small. I was bored. Plus, I could hear women screaming. It didn't scare me, because I thought they were being a bit overdramatic. If you can breathe enough to scream like that...well...you must be ok.
24 hours later with almost no pain until about 4 hours before birth, I pushed MAYBE four times and met Jack. His eyes were open and it was a silent, beautiful birth. I grabbed him and held him to me and said, "Hi! I love you! I'm your Mommy and I've been waiting for you for so long..." He stared at me. He blinked slowly. He was the most Zen little dude ever. (I thought at the time..)
Over the years, he has tested my patience to such a degree I'm lucky I'm not in jail. However, my overwhelming, all consuming love for him always wins out. He is cranky, impatient, and usually unpleasant to me. I have threatened him and done many things to rectify it, but he has been this way since the day AFTER he was born when he smelled fried chicken and threw the most amazing fit I've ever seen a newborn throw. He got us kicked out of the Auburn Hills, MI public library and banned for life, and we had the same thing happen on the nature trail adjacent to the library. Why? He said the puppet thing we were doing at Mommy and Me at the library was "tupid" and he wanted to read about Dinosaurs. He could not be stopped from loudly proclaiming these activities childish and beneath him. He continued to attempt to get out of my lap and we ended up struggling on the floor like we were wrestling. "Ma'am, we regret to say we must revoke your library card and ask that you never return." WHAT? WHAT? Philistines.
A few weeks later at the Nature Trail, they had two park rangers give a little talk and hike to children. Of course, my sweet angel and I went. Everything was fine. The rangers were talking about the dangers of taking things out of nature and the "leave no trace" policy, when my child raised his chubby little arm. (he was two years old when all of this happened.) The ranger called on him and my baby boy said, "If we leave no trace, how can we find dinosaur bones?" Of course this was all said in "Jackspeak". I was the only person who understood him most of the time. The two kind rangers were about to be blindsided by the wrath of Jack...oh the poor rangers. I was talking through gritted teeth to him..."Jack stop it...we aren't here for dinosaurs! Put your hand down and listen! I will take you home right now and spank your legs if you don't stop this right now!" My words had no affect. Jack would not be dissuaded. After the rangers awkwardly attempted to explain that there were NO dinosaur bones there, Jack said, "Of course they are. Everything was an ocean once. There are fossils everywhere." Touche' Jack. Touche'. The rangers were displeased and Jack continued to insist and I continued to threaten, so they finally asked us to leave and never come back to their presentations. I was stunned and again humiliated, although I don't know why. I picked him up and he began struggling against me. It was much like Friday night at the fights. I got him into his car seat, which was pretty damned almost impossible, and we drove home. He screamed and cried the entire time. It was about a five minute car trip to our house. We got out, and I told him he was going to sit in his room until he could control himself. He didn't care at all. He sat in his room and SCREAMED HIS LUNGS OUT FOR A GOOD 45 MINUTES. The neighbors even came over to check on him. He was a bit of a fit thrower. I didn't give in to him. If he began to throw a fit at a restaurant, we left. If he tried to throw a fit over a toy he wanted, we left. We didn't cajole or plead. Did he care? Nope. Nuh-uh.
He has grown, and he has matured. The maturity is still ongoing, but he is my heart. He is a bit solitary, like me. He has a HORRIBLE temper, like me...but not as bad as the 2-5 year old Jack. He is terribly talented with anything creative. He is a masterful writer, and his painting is amazing. He does not take advice from ANYONE. He is stubborn. He is suffering us peasants for now.
That brings me to my beloved second child. Again, easy pregnancy. Jack was 3 years old. I figured since my brother and I were four years apart as were my husband and his brother, that it would be a good time. Turns out it didn't really matter. Anyhow, this obstetrician was boring. The hospital DEMANDED we take their stupid Lamaze class. At the first class, we had to close our eyes and lay back against our husbands. ( I was the only person who already had a child in the class...the rest were glowing first timers.) Anyhow, we were to close our eyes, (NEVER DO THAT, IT MAKES YOU CONCENTRATE ON THE PAIN.), imagine the word "PAIN" written in the sand and then the wave coming and washing it away....breathe.... I couldn't help it. I guffawed out loud. Which awarded me with a roomful of glares. The teacher asked why I did that and I told her that I had used Bradley and this was all bullcrap I was just there because the hospital forced me to be. I told her when I had my baby, the nurses had been stunned how fast and how silent it had been. They called me a hippie Earth mother. I thought I could go into the surrogate business. She told me to be quiet and do whatever I wanted, but please don't disillusion the others. WHO BY THE WAY WERE ALL HAVING SCHEDULED C-SECTIONS. I was appalled. Who does that? You wait until it's time, then you go and if there is something wrong, the Dr. does a C-Section. You don't plan it around family coming into town or the Dr.s vacation or some dumbass reason. They were saying, that their baby was too big to deliver normally...it was going to be a whopping 8 pounds! Idiots. Cowards. A few weeks later, I gave birth naturally to an 11 pound baby who was 24" long. It was NOT expected but there you are. He came out demanding a steak got God's sake. 8 pounds? Puh. A cakewalk. My first was 7 13.5. So what? The dr.'s had said my second would come quickly and weight probably around 8 pounds. Neither one was true. It was an entirely different situation, and if he had been the first, he would have been the last. I'll spare all of the details, but I thought he and I were going to die, and we would have had it not been for one nurse.
Now, this baby...he was....hmmmm....how should I say this? He was perfect. He slept through the night from the very beginning, he nursed perfectly right away, (of course I knew how to do it, too.) and when he emptied that food source we had to give him formula. HOT formula. He liked it STEAMING HOT. My first? His lips never touched a bottle once in his life. Nursing was all he would do. He went from that at 13 months old to sippy cups and/or straws. This one? He took it any way he could get it. He smiled ALL THE TIME, if he was with me. If he couldn't see me, he screamed and cried. Going to the store with him in the rear facing baby seat was hell. I'd have to pull over every couple of blocks and get out and open the back door so he could see me, kiss him, do whatever, then slam the door, get back in my seat and haul ass to wherever we were going, while he screamed. Out of sight, out of mind, I guess. Guess what? He is now 18, in college and has not changed much since he was born. With the exception of screaming when he couldn't see me. Now, he just comes and checks on me every 10-15 minutes. He is a worry wart. He is sweet and caring and has never yelled at me or used foul language with me.
Two very different boys, but both my heart and soul. They are my reason for living. I honestly feel sorry for people who didn't have them. They are my everything. If everything else disappeared, I would be fine as long as I had them. I've always told them a story since they were babies..I told them that no matter where we were, no matter how near or far, that three of us were connected by a silver string. It would keep us connected always. They both still remember it, and it's gotten me through some hard times. They have grown up, but to me, they are babies. I would give anything to go back to their baby and toddlerhoods. We don't appreciate it when it's happening. We are too worried, or harried or whatever. Now, I could appreciate it. I would hold them more...even when they struggled to get down. I'd smell their heads more. I'd make bathtime longer because that is where they learned their ABC's and many fairy tales and all the sounds of animals. It was just them and me...or earlier, just Jack and me. I would let them make messes and not worry about it. I would cook with them more, allow them to finger paint more, go to parks and watch them play more...without the constant fear that they would get hurt. I'd have them out more where they could meet more children their ages who could be their friends.
I'll never get that chance. I will have to content myself with grandchildren, who, although I will love beyond all reason, better not show up for quite a few years.
This is the truest of love stories. This love cannot and will not ever die. Not even in death. We have a silver string.
Friday, December 26, 2014
It's Only Fair....
to tell you things that make me NOT crazy. I not quite sure the word would be "happy", as I am usually not feeling that feeling. However, the following don't make me want to punch, hit or shoot anyone.
Again, these are in no order.
1. My children smiling.
2. My children and how funny and handsome and smart and beautiful they are.
3. My husband who is deaf as a post and does almost nothing but sit in a chair and rant on the internet about his hatred of Obama, something else I can't remember and daring people to come take his guns away. (He has about a zillion.) Last year the fool asked for ammo for Christmas, and that is what he got.
4. My three doggies. Even though one bit my finger the other day and I think I have rabies. I'm pretty sure.
5. My niece, Zoe and my nephew, Jake. They are my bonus children. I adore them. They are in high school, now. I find that hard to believe. My Z is GORGEOUS. I am not even saying that because she is my niece. SHE IS GORGEOUS and she kicks butt at tennis. My nephew Jake is the MOST POLITE AND KIND young man I have ever in my life met. He says "ma'am" to me in almost every sentence. He is kind, he is extremely funny with a dry wit and so handsome. He is also brilliant and makes straight "a"s all the time.
6. My fool of a brother. I love him like he is my baby, but he is like...almost 45. Still. He's one of the people I love the most in the world. He is a wonderful man. He is the best father I've ever seen in my life. He is a dork. I love that dork.
7. My parents. (separately, of course.) My mother has done so much for my brother and me. She is crazy as hell, and I wouldn't have it any other way. She is funny and insane. I get my insanity from her side of the family, for which I would like to say, " THANKS A LOT YOU PEOPLE ON MY MOM'S SIDE OF THE FAMILY WHO ARE INSANE. JERKS."
My father, from whom I was estranged for several years. I have reconnected with him and it makes me feel like I am a better person for it. He is the only father I have ever had, and he is terribly flawed and has done some things that are better left unsaid and unspeakable, anyhow. But, he is my father.
8. My bed. I love it. It's where I sleep. I love sleep.
9. Books.
10. mani/pedis
11. makeup
12. shopping
13. travel
14. The beach. Any beach. I crave the beach.
15 . The anticipation of a big trip.
16. The health of those I love.
17. My car.
18. The luck I've had in my new school. I have a fantastic principal. I am very thankful for that.
19. People I can still consider friends of mine. I think there is like two. I don't have many friends. I find I like that most of the time. If I think too much about it, I get upset and wonder what is wrong with me. Well, I do that all the time with no prodding.
20. My psychiatrist. She has saved me more than once.
So, I guess that's it. I can't think of much else. Oh: Abraham, Jacob, Moses, all of them. I'm thankful for them. OH! and the founding fathers of our country. Do you know how lucky we are that those particular men were alive at the same time, had the same goal and worked together? They were brilliant and well....how lucky we are.
Bye.
Again, these are in no order.
1. My children smiling.
2. My children and how funny and handsome and smart and beautiful they are.
3. My husband who is deaf as a post and does almost nothing but sit in a chair and rant on the internet about his hatred of Obama, something else I can't remember and daring people to come take his guns away. (He has about a zillion.) Last year the fool asked for ammo for Christmas, and that is what he got.
4. My three doggies. Even though one bit my finger the other day and I think I have rabies. I'm pretty sure.
5. My niece, Zoe and my nephew, Jake. They are my bonus children. I adore them. They are in high school, now. I find that hard to believe. My Z is GORGEOUS. I am not even saying that because she is my niece. SHE IS GORGEOUS and she kicks butt at tennis. My nephew Jake is the MOST POLITE AND KIND young man I have ever in my life met. He says "ma'am" to me in almost every sentence. He is kind, he is extremely funny with a dry wit and so handsome. He is also brilliant and makes straight "a"s all the time.
6. My fool of a brother. I love him like he is my baby, but he is like...almost 45. Still. He's one of the people I love the most in the world. He is a wonderful man. He is the best father I've ever seen in my life. He is a dork. I love that dork.
7. My parents. (separately, of course.) My mother has done so much for my brother and me. She is crazy as hell, and I wouldn't have it any other way. She is funny and insane. I get my insanity from her side of the family, for which I would like to say, " THANKS A LOT YOU PEOPLE ON MY MOM'S SIDE OF THE FAMILY WHO ARE INSANE. JERKS."
My father, from whom I was estranged for several years. I have reconnected with him and it makes me feel like I am a better person for it. He is the only father I have ever had, and he is terribly flawed and has done some things that are better left unsaid and unspeakable, anyhow. But, he is my father.
8. My bed. I love it. It's where I sleep. I love sleep.
9. Books.
10. mani/pedis
11. makeup
12. shopping
13. travel
14. The beach. Any beach. I crave the beach.
15 . The anticipation of a big trip.
16. The health of those I love.
17. My car.
18. The luck I've had in my new school. I have a fantastic principal. I am very thankful for that.
19. People I can still consider friends of mine. I think there is like two. I don't have many friends. I find I like that most of the time. If I think too much about it, I get upset and wonder what is wrong with me. Well, I do that all the time with no prodding.
20. My psychiatrist. She has saved me more than once.
So, I guess that's it. I can't think of much else. Oh: Abraham, Jacob, Moses, all of them. I'm thankful for them. OH! and the founding fathers of our country. Do you know how lucky we are that those particular men were alive at the same time, had the same goal and worked together? They were brilliant and well....how lucky we are.
Bye.
Thursday, December 25, 2014
Things that really make me insane.
Hey, all y'all.
Merry Christmas, and any other holiday we are just ending or haven't yet begun. As Kinky Friedman says, "May the God of your choice bless you."
So, I thought I would try and list the myriad things that bug the living shit out of me. Let's get started.
(this isn't really in any order.)
1. People who say, "At the end of the day..." Okay. At the end of the day, it's nighttime. Problem solved. Stop saying that, it's stupid and overused and makes you sound like an idiot because most of the people who say it, say it CONSTANTLY.
2. People who say, "It is what it is." REALLY? IT IS? I had no idea. I didn't know "it" was what it was! A revelation! SHUT UP IF YOU SAY THIS. That is a ridiculous thing to say. It is what it is. God, that is stupid.
3. Improper use of quotation marks. As in.."We are the best." on the side of a plumber's van or something. "We will earn your trust." Well, who on Earth said that? Quotation marks indicate someone has said or is saying SOMETHING. You can't just "put quotation" marks "wherever you want to." It's "stupid". "Call us for all of your plumbing ""Needs""". Where does this small piece of hell stop?
4.People who say, "Pacific" instead of "specific". DUDE. One is the largest ocean on Earth and the other is not. GET IT STRAIGHT.
5. People who say, "for all intensive purposes". WHAT THE HELL? Read that to yourself! It makes absolutely no sense! It is supposed to be "For all intents and purposes." Idiots.
6. People who...OH.. people who abuse animals You will surely end up in Hell. Period.
7. People who are talking and when you pass by, the either stop talking or they begin to whisper. Assholes, I don't care what you are saying, I have something to do, and you are being exceptionally rude. If you have a private conversation, go to a place where there are no other people. Common courtesy, people.
8. People who smack their food. I will punch you in the throat.
9. People who make ANY NOISE while eating. I'll destroy you.
10. People who snort their snot when they have a cold. Blow your damned nose, for the love of God. Animal.
11. People who spit. EVER. FOR ANY REASON. Disgusting, and nobody wants to see your saliva and whatever is mixed into it. Nasty asses.
12. People at the movie who rattle wrappers, smack their food, wear too much cologne, (yes, young soldiers, I am talking to you), guys who have to put an empty seat between them so nobody gets the wrong idea. We won't. You know why? BECAUSE WE DON'T CARE, WE ARE HERE TO SEE A MOVIE."
13. People who talk at all at a movie.
14. People who release intestinal gas at a movie.
15. Any burping at any time unless you have nowhere else to go to belch your ABCs, which is not impressive.
16. People who hit my car. WATCH WHERE YOU ARE DRIVING, DIPSHIT.
17. People who come to my door. For any reason at all...stay away. I don't want to buy anything, I will not convert to your religion no matter what you say or what your little pamphlet says. I won't attend services to try it out, and I hate ten speed bicycles, short sleeved white shirts and black ties. Go away and never come back.
Well, that's it for now. I have to go shower and get ready for this travesty called "Christmas".
Keep the change ya filthy animals.
Merry Christmas, and any other holiday we are just ending or haven't yet begun. As Kinky Friedman says, "May the God of your choice bless you."
So, I thought I would try and list the myriad things that bug the living shit out of me. Let's get started.
(this isn't really in any order.)
1. People who say, "At the end of the day..." Okay. At the end of the day, it's nighttime. Problem solved. Stop saying that, it's stupid and overused and makes you sound like an idiot because most of the people who say it, say it CONSTANTLY.
2. People who say, "It is what it is." REALLY? IT IS? I had no idea. I didn't know "it" was what it was! A revelation! SHUT UP IF YOU SAY THIS. That is a ridiculous thing to say. It is what it is. God, that is stupid.
3. Improper use of quotation marks. As in.."We are the best." on the side of a plumber's van or something. "We will earn your trust." Well, who on Earth said that? Quotation marks indicate someone has said or is saying SOMETHING. You can't just "put quotation" marks "wherever you want to." It's "stupid". "Call us for all of your plumbing ""Needs""". Where does this small piece of hell stop?
4.People who say, "Pacific" instead of "specific". DUDE. One is the largest ocean on Earth and the other is not. GET IT STRAIGHT.
5. People who say, "for all intensive purposes". WHAT THE HELL? Read that to yourself! It makes absolutely no sense! It is supposed to be "For all intents and purposes." Idiots.
6. People who...OH.. people who abuse animals You will surely end up in Hell. Period.
7. People who are talking and when you pass by, the either stop talking or they begin to whisper. Assholes, I don't care what you are saying, I have something to do, and you are being exceptionally rude. If you have a private conversation, go to a place where there are no other people. Common courtesy, people.
8. People who smack their food. I will punch you in the throat.
9. People who make ANY NOISE while eating. I'll destroy you.
10. People who snort their snot when they have a cold. Blow your damned nose, for the love of God. Animal.
11. People who spit. EVER. FOR ANY REASON. Disgusting, and nobody wants to see your saliva and whatever is mixed into it. Nasty asses.
12. People at the movie who rattle wrappers, smack their food, wear too much cologne, (yes, young soldiers, I am talking to you), guys who have to put an empty seat between them so nobody gets the wrong idea. We won't. You know why? BECAUSE WE DON'T CARE, WE ARE HERE TO SEE A MOVIE."
13. People who talk at all at a movie.
14. People who release intestinal gas at a movie.
15. Any burping at any time unless you have nowhere else to go to belch your ABCs, which is not impressive.
16. People who hit my car. WATCH WHERE YOU ARE DRIVING, DIPSHIT.
17. People who come to my door. For any reason at all...stay away. I don't want to buy anything, I will not convert to your religion no matter what you say or what your little pamphlet says. I won't attend services to try it out, and I hate ten speed bicycles, short sleeved white shirts and black ties. Go away and never come back.
Well, that's it for now. I have to go shower and get ready for this travesty called "Christmas".
Keep the change ya filthy animals.
Tuesday, December 23, 2014
Annual Holiday Letter
Well, hello everyone.
Here is the Freeman/Brewer holiday letter. It is intended to replace all of those boring, bragging insipid letters other people send out on Christmasy paper. They make me gag.
Anywho....here we go. 1. January was you know...okay. It was January.
2. February I had a birthday. Big whoop.
3. March...spring break. We did nothing.
4. April. My son had his 18th birthday.
5. May. We were entering the home stretch of the end of the school year. If you could hear me now, I would sound amazingly excited, but in
6. June, I was more excited because Tyler graduated from high school.
7. July. We did nothing at all.
8. August, I got ready for the new school year.
9. Our school was transferred to our new ultra swanky building. It's pretty sweet. I changed grade levels. I teach second grade now, and I love it.
10. September. Required to teach children who were born WAY after 9/11 about 9/11 and field all of the questions of 'how", and "why', etc. Big fun. My son Jack turned 22, my daughter Kira turned 23 and Wally turned 61. We moved Jack back into his dorm, Kira began grad school at the same school Jack attends, and my brother got his masters degree there, as well. It is hella expensive. I mean, if you ever want to put food on your table again, consider another school. Tyler began his first semester at the local community college, which he well continue to do for 2 years to get his basics out of the way. Jack's art is great, by the way.
11. October. Who cares.
12. November. My Mom's birthday and another reason to eat like hogs.
13. December. Who cares. All it is is an excuse to buy crap for everyone and feel guilty if you cannot. And eat like hogs.
So. Nobody won a Nobel Peace Prize. Nobody had her book published. Wally still sits at his computer all day and considers doing a load of laundry "housekeeping", therefore, I live in a filthy, disgusting pit. I want a new house.
I have the same three dogs, and as a matter of fact, the Westie bit the HELL OUT OF MY FINGER this morning and I just now stopped bleeding. I probably have rabies, since Emperor Wallace hasn't taken them to the vet. I just realized that I might have rabies. Great. Another pain in the ass. Oh. Here is some interesting tidbits:
Our air conditioner broke...what at least two, maybe three times. The final time was in the HOTTEST part of the year. I had already started back to school and our bedroom was 98 degrees. I was cussing the guy who fixes it, and he said he is the only person in the area who can work on our stupid geo thermal unit. FILTHY LIAR. I saw a truck outside of school for another company that specializes in geo thermal and they are local. Plus this ass hat who "fixes" (we think he is secretly jacking with it so it breaks every 2 months or so...)LIED OUT OF HIS ASS. (happy holidays...sorry for the not nice words.)
I would come home from work, and enter the pit of death otherwise known as our house, and he would be sitting there at the indoor part of this dumb fancy a/c heat unit and I would come up behind him and get close to his head and scream, "IT'S HOOOOOOTTTTTT!!!!!" and he would jump and promise he was ALMOST finished and we would have cool air. HE LIED. Over a WEEK. IT WAS OVER A WEEK WITH NO A/C. In August. In Texas. I was ready to go on a killing spree or bring a sleeping bag to a movie theater and dare them to kick me out. The A/C dude told us it would be TWELVE THOUSAND dollars to get a regular A/C outside unit. LIAR. OOORRR, if were REALLY, REALLY STUPID, who could dig up 24 grand for a new indoor unit for out geothermal. Guess which one won? NEITHER ONE. I told him to fix the damned thing right and he better get it right or no pay. He was not comfortable with me at all. I screamed at him every time I saw him. I even told him I was very sick of his face. He sort of chuckled. So I said, "No. Really. I. AM . SICK. OF. YOUR. FACE." Then he came back with a very witty quip: "Yeah, I guess I'm back a little too soon." I said, "Haha. I'm sleeping at your house until you fix this crap. You can sleep here...how's that sound???" He then began to pretend to wash something off with our hose. Assclown.
We got a bill. You know where it is? On the corkboard where it will sit until I'm damned good and ready to pay it. I AM NOT AN IDIOT. YOU RIPPED US OFF AND I NEVER WANT TO SEE THAT DUDE LARRY SMITH(yes, I used his name) AGAIN.
Then there is the problem with Wally's van. We call it the "vomit comet". It is a travesty to all car makers, car drivers, car dealerships, Henry Ford and whoever invented the car. When you ATTEMPT to turn the steering wheel(it has lost it's power steering capabilities.) it makes this sound..."ssssccccrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee" very loudly. As far as I can tell, there are no brakes. You practically have to put your foot out the door to stop the stupid thing. When you go over any single bump or anything in the road, his car goes.."squeek, squeek, squeek". LOUDLY. His driver's side window won't roll down. One of the side doors opens on it's own. It smells really bad. He has rigged up so much crap inside for his "convenience" that nobody will ever take it as a trade. It is a DEATH TRAP. OH YEAH. I had to drive it one day because some mouth breather rear ended MY BRAND NEW CAR, and it was in the shop. As I was going downhill, it began going.."ding...ding...ding...and I was looking at the gauges...then it begins DINGDINGDINGDINGDING!" SO, I pulled over, and called the Emperor. I said, "Dude, your piece of shit just overheated." His response? "Hmmm." I was beyond furious. I said, "So what are you going to do, knight in shining shit?" He said, "Just give it a minute. It's the thermometer...it has a spring in it...blah blah blah..." I said, "Wait. This happens a lot? ARE YOU FREAKING SIMPLE????" He said, just keep going, and the sound will stop as soon as the spring or some shit releases.' I said, "You didn't even offer to come get me, you asshole." I hung up. I cautiously pulled back into traffic, went under the speed limit and watched the temperature gauge the whole way home. I got home with no further issues, except for the horrific dying cat sounds his van produces. I got out, stomped into the house and went on a horrific, (but justified) tirade. I'm pretty sure, hell, I'm totally sure I used foul language and threats to pieces of his body he would be really sad without. He told my Dad..."Well I have almost 100,000 miles on it! Gonna put another 100,000 on it. I began cussing and my Dad laughed in his face.
That brings us up to a couple of weeks ago. OH, then I got the real actual true flu. The doctor said, "Well, my dear...I'm afraid it's not a cold...it's the flu." Great. Bronchitis, pneumonia...it all goes hand in hand with me. Problem is...I have a job which requires me to be there or the kids will tear the room down. So, I had to get a substitute for three days. The kids were good, but I felt like real true crap. I am still achy and don't feel 100%. He said it would take a week to two weeks before I should go back to work. I went back in three days. Who can do a week to two weeks? Nobody.
Yesterday, my youngest and I got into some ridiculous argument about the Berlin wall, East and West Berlin, which was a sovereign nation (West Berlin) and I explained the damned Soviet Bloc to him. He then informed me with aggravating "I'm superior to you" that Paris had been a sovereign nation when Hitler invaded. I informed him that no, it had not. It had been a city. I said almost all of Europe and a good deal of Africa and who knows where else was invaded by Hitler so what did that have to to with anything. He disagreed with so much it was amazing. He then said the BEST THING HE HAS SAID IN A VERY LONG TIME. Get ready for it. He said, "Haven't you heard of Vicky France?" I sat there confused then realized he mean Vichy France and I almost peed I was laughing so hard. He kept saying, "What, what?" And I said, "Vicky France sound like a stripper, and it was VICHY FRANCE". I had to say it with the proper pronunciation , so he would think I knew what I was talking about, then I asked if he had ever heard of VICKYSWAW? He said, "no" and I said, "That is because it is Vichyssoise" Oh my god. It was so fun. He says the funniest things. He did something like that a few days ago, but I can't remember what it was. I have been calling him Vicky France for two days. He gets furious.
That is our year until today. I haven't run in awhile, because of my GD ankle. I hate my left ankle and I hate 19 year old me for getting into a wreck that almost had them have to amputate my left foot because every bone, ligament and tendon was torn up in my left ankle and all of the bones in my left foot were broken. I hate me at 19. Well, at every age, I guess.
Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals. (I didn't edit this. I'm not editor.)
Sunday, October 19, 2014
Gloom, despair, and agony on me.
Hey people. I was going to close this damned blog but realized it had become a sort of journal for me, and I was recently told my my shrink to keep a journal so..yeah.
I haven't really seen anything weird, unusual or funny lately. Boring. I got a new car. Big deal. (It's pretty sweet, though.)
My oldest child doesn't live here anymore. He moved to another town to finish college. Problem is this: he did like 3 years of studies for becoming a paleontologist. Then one day he said, "You know, I think I am changing my major to Art." ._. That was my face, but shocked. I said nothing...then I began babbling, "But, but...you've ALWAYS wanted to be a paleontologist! What do you mean ART? What will you do with an ART degree for God's sake! They are called 'Starving Artists" for a damned reason! I have to pay for ART???? Holy shit." I was swirling in a whirlwind of disbelief, a bit of anger, (a tiny bit) and outrage at the amount of money this was going to cost. Everyone told me to let him be him and follow his dreams...blah blah...I said ok. He is now currently STILL following his dream of being in a dorm room and playing video games all night. His art is good, though. Very interesting. He is definitely more of a Salvador Dali type artist than anything else. Hey. I just looked over where I keep the painting of Lavender he did for me, AND IT'S NOT THERE!!! Dammit! It must have fallen when I careened into the dresser in the middle of the night. Now I have to find it. Now. Be right back.
Ok, with the help of Emperor Wallace, I got the dresser pulled out and retrieved my painting. There is an electrical plug back there, too. I can plug my new Scentsy back there. I use them with water and essential oils.
OMG. I was looking for a book in the living room last night, and I had to get on a ladder to look at the top shelves..(It's a behemoth of a built in that I designed several years ago...wall to wall floor to ceiling..still not enough room). Anyhow, I found all sorts of other stuff I had forgotten about. I found the book I was looking for, but I found other things that made me squeal.
Ok. If you are my age, and liked the Dallas Cowboys in the 70s and early 80s, you know who Cliff Harris and Charlie Waters are. I had a poster of Charlie Waters on my bedroom wall for YEARS. I would stare at his bare chest and his head or face or whatever and I was 100% positive that I would marry him. It didn't matter that I was 14 and he was old enough to retire from pro football soon. He was going to be mine. Forever. In our big mansion in Dallas. He would always wear that shirt unbuttoned and those jeans and hold a cowboy hat over his cash and prizes. Or maybe a football...either way. He would basically be there for me to stare at.
So...fast forward about 30 years and I am at the Texas Book thingie in Austin at the Capitol. I see a tent with a TON of old ladies snaking out of it. We walked past and looked inside and sitting there signing books were....CHARLIE FREAKING WATERS AND CLIFF WHO THINKS I DID SOMETHING WITH HIM HARRIS!!!! I grabbed my Mom and couldn't even speak. I just pointed. She became all flustered, too. Although her true Cowboy love was Bob Lily. She still peed her pants when Cliff Harris came over. ANYhow. I just strode right in through the side of the tent, and my mom followed me. I said, "Excuse me..." to all the old ladies who were shooting me looks like they wanted to beat me with with their canes and walkers and Werther's candies..and I walked up to the table with the two luscious hunks. I said, "Um, hi...you may not rememb.." and Cliff Harris said, "HELEN! How are you???" and I pretty much looked at the old ladies and threw them the finger, only I didn't do that, because I am a freakin' lady.
SO...I said hey and all that. I was speaking with Cliff but was staring in a freakish way at Charlie Waters. He finally evidently felt that freaky feeling you have when someone is staring intently at you. He looked over at me, and Cliff said, "Hey Charlie...she had your poster...she told me about it at Clayton William's party that night." I was thinking, "I did?" "Where? What??" And my Mother stood glaring at me in a very accusatory fashion. I did't give two shits at that point, I just smiled and batted my old eyelashes at him. He smiled and I almost seriously swooned. Now I know what that feels like. First off, I was surprised he A. Remembered me, and B. Remembered my name. Still, all I could think was.."charlie waaaaters...charliee....waaaaaters...come to me....marry meeeee..." and then I remembered Cliff Harris' ass. It was...how should I put this? It was...unstoppable. Much as it was when he was on the Cowboys. They were close friends then and I guess they had remained that way all these years. So, they had co-written a book about the Doomsday Defense and I had no real interest in it, but they FREAKING GAVE ME ONE. Then, Charlie said, "Let me have that..." and he turned to the page with a picture of that wondrous poster and wrote, "Helen...LOVE!" and his name. Most people wouldn't give a rip, but I almost licked that man's face. Cliff signed, it too. They both signed the inside cover. Then, Cliff reached under the table and produced this big photograph of the two of them playing football. Evidently, they have a website where you have to buy it. He gave it to my Love Charlie an Charlie signed it, and then Cliff wrote, and I shit you not, he wrote, "Helen, thanks for the night in Alpine, you helped me change my life Love, Cliff". I was very confused. My Mom was pinching the back of my arm spitting through gritted teeth, "WHAT DOES HE MEAN THAT NIGHT IN ALPINE!!!" I said, "Okay, it was great seeing you!" and I once again tried my Jedi mind trick on Charlie, which must have been off that day.
Well, I found all that shit last night. And I stared at all of the pictures in the book and found the one Charlie had written "love" in ALL CAPS, PEOPLE. I almost wept. Then, I found the photograph that they had both signed but Cliff let that little bit slip.... and I didn't give a shit. I called my Mom and told her what I had found.
here is some dumb article I found. It just sort of tells a little about them. And here is a video of my beloved in action: And here is a good picture of the man I love and still think I'll marry someday. (Even though I am happily married and I'm sure he is, too.)
So...yeah. I enjoyed that little bit of a walk down memory lane. Plus, Scott Laidlaw was a good friend of my Grandpa Gator and we got their Christmas cards every year. The serious ones, and then the funny ones. And to think...Charlie was in all of those. Oh, and Cliff, too. Captain Crash is what they called him. I just said "Hey, Cliff.." and it was off to the races.
I haven't really seen anything weird, unusual or funny lately. Boring. I got a new car. Big deal. (It's pretty sweet, though.)
My oldest child doesn't live here anymore. He moved to another town to finish college. Problem is this: he did like 3 years of studies for becoming a paleontologist. Then one day he said, "You know, I think I am changing my major to Art." ._. That was my face, but shocked. I said nothing...then I began babbling, "But, but...you've ALWAYS wanted to be a paleontologist! What do you mean ART? What will you do with an ART degree for God's sake! They are called 'Starving Artists" for a damned reason! I have to pay for ART???? Holy shit." I was swirling in a whirlwind of disbelief, a bit of anger, (a tiny bit) and outrage at the amount of money this was going to cost. Everyone told me to let him be him and follow his dreams...blah blah...I said ok. He is now currently STILL following his dream of being in a dorm room and playing video games all night. His art is good, though. Very interesting. He is definitely more of a Salvador Dali type artist than anything else. Hey. I just looked over where I keep the painting of Lavender he did for me, AND IT'S NOT THERE!!! Dammit! It must have fallen when I careened into the dresser in the middle of the night. Now I have to find it. Now. Be right back.
Ok, with the help of Emperor Wallace, I got the dresser pulled out and retrieved my painting. There is an electrical plug back there, too. I can plug my new Scentsy back there. I use them with water and essential oils.
OMG. I was looking for a book in the living room last night, and I had to get on a ladder to look at the top shelves..(It's a behemoth of a built in that I designed several years ago...wall to wall floor to ceiling..still not enough room). Anyhow, I found all sorts of other stuff I had forgotten about. I found the book I was looking for, but I found other things that made me squeal.
Ok. If you are my age, and liked the Dallas Cowboys in the 70s and early 80s, you know who Cliff Harris and Charlie Waters are. I had a poster of Charlie Waters on my bedroom wall for YEARS. I would stare at his bare chest and his head or face or whatever and I was 100% positive that I would marry him. It didn't matter that I was 14 and he was old enough to retire from pro football soon. He was going to be mine. Forever. In our big mansion in Dallas. He would always wear that shirt unbuttoned and those jeans and hold a cowboy hat over his cash and prizes. Or maybe a football...either way. He would basically be there for me to stare at.
So...fast forward about 30 years and I am at the Texas Book thingie in Austin at the Capitol. I see a tent with a TON of old ladies snaking out of it. We walked past and looked inside and sitting there signing books were....CHARLIE FREAKING WATERS AND CLIFF WHO THINKS I DID SOMETHING WITH HIM HARRIS!!!! I grabbed my Mom and couldn't even speak. I just pointed. She became all flustered, too. Although her true Cowboy love was Bob Lily. She still peed her pants when Cliff Harris came over. ANYhow. I just strode right in through the side of the tent, and my mom followed me. I said, "Excuse me..." to all the old ladies who were shooting me looks like they wanted to beat me with with their canes and walkers and Werther's candies..and I walked up to the table with the two luscious hunks. I said, "Um, hi...you may not rememb.." and Cliff Harris said, "HELEN! How are you???" and I pretty much looked at the old ladies and threw them the finger, only I didn't do that, because I am a freakin' lady.
SO...I said hey and all that. I was speaking with Cliff but was staring in a freakish way at Charlie Waters. He finally evidently felt that freaky feeling you have when someone is staring intently at you. He looked over at me, and Cliff said, "Hey Charlie...she had your poster...she told me about it at Clayton William's party that night." I was thinking, "I did?" "Where? What??" And my Mother stood glaring at me in a very accusatory fashion. I did't give two shits at that point, I just smiled and batted my old eyelashes at him. He smiled and I almost seriously swooned. Now I know what that feels like. First off, I was surprised he A. Remembered me, and B. Remembered my name. Still, all I could think was.."charlie waaaaters...charliee....waaaaaters...come to me....marry meeeee..." and then I remembered Cliff Harris' ass. It was...how should I put this? It was...unstoppable. Much as it was when he was on the Cowboys. They were close friends then and I guess they had remained that way all these years. So, they had co-written a book about the Doomsday Defense and I had no real interest in it, but they FREAKING GAVE ME ONE. Then, Charlie said, "Let me have that..." and he turned to the page with a picture of that wondrous poster and wrote, "Helen...LOVE!" and his name. Most people wouldn't give a rip, but I almost licked that man's face. Cliff signed, it too. They both signed the inside cover. Then, Cliff reached under the table and produced this big photograph of the two of them playing football. Evidently, they have a website where you have to buy it. He gave it to my Love Charlie an Charlie signed it, and then Cliff wrote, and I shit you not, he wrote, "Helen, thanks for the night in Alpine, you helped me change my life Love, Cliff". I was very confused. My Mom was pinching the back of my arm spitting through gritted teeth, "WHAT DOES HE MEAN THAT NIGHT IN ALPINE!!!" I said, "Okay, it was great seeing you!" and I once again tried my Jedi mind trick on Charlie, which must have been off that day.
Well, I found all that shit last night. And I stared at all of the pictures in the book and found the one Charlie had written "love" in ALL CAPS, PEOPLE. I almost wept. Then, I found the photograph that they had both signed but Cliff let that little bit slip.... and I didn't give a shit. I called my Mom and told her what I had found.
here is some dumb article I found. It just sort of tells a little about them. And here is a video of my beloved in action: And here is a good picture of the man I love and still think I'll marry someday. (Even though I am happily married and I'm sure he is, too.)
So...yeah. I enjoyed that little bit of a walk down memory lane. Plus, Scott Laidlaw was a good friend of my Grandpa Gator and we got their Christmas cards every year. The serious ones, and then the funny ones. And to think...Charlie was in all of those. Oh, and Cliff, too. Captain Crash is what they called him. I just said "Hey, Cliff.." and it was off to the races.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
First Off..
Happy Thanksgiving. I hope everyone has plenty to be thankful for.
Second off, I will no longer be posting to this Blog. There are several reasons, but I will be shutting it down as soon as I learn how.
If you have been following my Blog, I thank you sincerely. It always amazes me to see the location of people who are reading this.
Again, thank you from the bottom of my heart, and my you all have a wonderful New Year.
Helen
Second off, I will no longer be posting to this Blog. There are several reasons, but I will be shutting it down as soon as I learn how.
If you have been following my Blog, I thank you sincerely. It always amazes me to see the location of people who are reading this.
Again, thank you from the bottom of my heart, and my you all have a wonderful New Year.
Helen
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