The Wedding

I took the day off from working my busy hospital so I'd have time to get ready and get the little people all cute. We had an hour drive to the wedding so I really did need the time to get all ready for the shindig. We packed all the wedding clothes in the trunk and headed out about an hour and half before the wedding. I figured we'd stop a bit before we got to the wedding and get dress as I just could not fathom that the little people, K or myself would look presentable after an hours drive.

So off we go, me looking incredibly redneck in a denim jumper with no shirt under, my sparkly make-up and fancy strappy sandals. Yeah I looked hot and sexy, ready to go to the good tractor pull.

Anyway when we were almost there we stopped off at a gas station and all changed (yeah I know, that's really classy - what else was I supposed to do, change in the parking lot of the wedding place??).

The wedding was at 6 pm, we showed up about 15 minutes before the ceremony started. It was an outdoors wedding and it was still freaking hot that day. They provided hand held fans which I fought over with Super Girl and Cabbage Patch. They are young; they can stand the heat better - besides mommy had running eyeliner to consider.

The ceremony was beautiful. Martin looked incredibly handsome and Angie was absolutely beautiful. They looked incredibly happy together. I got all teary... or maybe that was sweat in my eyes. No, kidding, it was very touching to see two people who are so perfectly matched and so in love get married. If I ever get married again I hope to have a ceremony like theirs - except with Elvis officiating the ceremony... and me in a red dress... and none of the praying stuff... and in Vegas... probably the drive thru wedding... maybe... and clowns... Jell-O wrestling... and... Oh, are you still there? Sorry, lost for a moment. Beautiful ceremony.

The reception followed immediately with the best fucking food I've had at a wedding in I don't know how long. Martin and Angie were kind to their guests and instructed us to eat while they finished with the obligatory after wedding photos of the wedding party (which just takes to damn long usually). I must have eaten a half pound of shrimp by myself. Even the Little People enjoyed the food. Cabbage Patch enjoyed the barbecued sausages so much she was wiping her hands on her lovely satin dress. *sigh* Mommy needed a drink at that moment.

They had dancing outdoors after all the gorging and cake cutting in doors. We partook of all the activities while making sure the Little People were within eye shot and not terrorizing more than the other children.

Petey was my savior and managed to find some roofies... I mean Alieve for my sinus headache and later provided me with rum for my punch - twice in fact. The booze came from Martin's brother-in-law Earl. I love that man, every time I've seen him; he always has booze for me. Later I got some wine from Earl.

We dance quite a bit. Even K and I danced. Together that is. He's not a bad dancer. It was fun. We sweated a LOT.

The lovely couple had enough of their rowdy guests about 10 or so and left in a horse drawn carriage. It was beautiful.

K and I gathered the little people and headed to the car. I changed right there by the car. I was HOT and my dress was sweat soaked. Yeah I know, another redneck moment brought to you by Judy.

And that was the wedding. It was nice.

Oh... The dress. I did wear THE dress. I briefly panicked and considered wearing something else as I worried I'd look like a fat cow but at the last moment I said "Fuck it, I'm wearing the dress, damn anyone who doesn't like it." I didn't even wear industrial strength anti-jiggle under garments under the dress - not that I hadn't planned to do so, I just couldn't find the ones I bought the previous day AND the torturous pantyhose I did find were a comical disaster to try to get on. See I haven't worn pantyhose in years. I hate them. I either couldn't remember the proper way to wiggle into control top pantyhose or they were the wrong size. At any rate after struggling with them, starting to sweat and having my giggling children ask me if I need help/offer advice, I pulled them off and tossed them in the trash never to be considered again. I think I looked pretty damn good in the dress; I had decent cleavage going on thanks to a push up bra and the tight bosom of the dress. All was good.

XXX

I'm sure you are all wondering what makes XXX so great - let me tell you (and it's not the fabulous sex so get your mind out of the gutter). He can can clear away the dark clouds and insecurities with a sentence. That's it, one sentence and I smile.

Well that and he doesn't get all tweaked by the fact that I'm probably the most frighteningly hairy women he's ever known - I really should buy stock in hair removal. Gotta love a man who doesn't touch my face and comment on how my beard needs a trim or say how my mustache tickles in an unpleasant way while I give a blow job or mention how the hot and sexy bra I just bought would look much sexier if I didn't have all that hair obscuring the lace.

Damn I'm so freaking happy when I'm with him.

Updates Postponed

I'm tired tonight, going to head off to bed soon. I was going to write about EVERYTHING, instead I spent my time writing words to XXX that he'll never see. I know, silly girl stuff, but I'm a girl, what do you expect.

Tomorrow, I'll write tomorrow before my pathetic memory starts to fail me.

Off to bed for now.

The Queen Returns!!

I mean me, not K. Bastards. (eyes rolling up in head)

I have tons to write but also have tons to do around the house. Tonight, I promise.

Coming soon!

• Highlights from the wedding and the answers to everyone's burning question of "Did she wear THE black dress???" (also, head to the Dr. about that burning, I'm sure it has something to do with that skank from a few weekends ago.)
• The 4 hour drive that took 5 or Fuck how I hate traffic on 35!
• Paradise - My time with XXX and his coffee maker... that should be separate... my time with XXX and my love for his coffee maker. Eh, whatever, read it how you like.
  
• The drive home or Part II of Fuck how I hate traffic on 35!

Well I got to go, this house doesn't clean it's self. I keep hoping the cats will get the idea of helping with the house work from watching all the Disney movies.

I Love The Way You Love Me...

This week is National Orgasm Week. I hope everyone has been celebrating. Too bad my visit to XXX is over, I guess it's just my over-active imagination and BOB to help me finish out the week. *sigh* What a wonderful visit I had.

Movie Review

Went to see iRobot with XXX last night. I really enjoyed it. The best part of the movie happens in the first 10 minutes - Will Smith naked in the shower. Ahhhhh... I just wish they had closed the movie with that shot. *sigh* Oh well they had a few nice shots of Will's fabulously muscled bare chest. Very nice. I highly recommend seeing this movie. He looks goooooood. Oh yeah it's got a good story and all too. ;)

Me getting read to leave. Damn I'm looking good.

The L Word

I just found this thanks to A's Blog. For some reason I can identify with it, from both the writer and his significant, although I could never have written something so eloquent and witty. It made me smile.

Dog's Life

I just read a post on someone else's blog about her torturing her dog by wrapping spegetti around it's snout just to see it snarl to get it off. heh. I wish I had thought of that when I had a dog, but honest I usually thought "Damn it dog, get the fuck off my sofa!" or "Shut the hell up dog, it's just a freaking car!" or "Oh jeezzz get away from me, you stink!" So is anyone surprised that I no longer have a dog? I didn't think so. Is anyone surprised that I still have twinges of guilt for getting rid of her and that I have a framed photo of her? Probably.

I really didn't hate the dog, I just didn't like owning her. See I've had cats since my birth. My grandmother and aunts tell of one of my grandmother's cats putting her kittens in my baby bed when I was an infant. I probably said CAT before I ever said MAMA. I'm a cat person, yet not a crazy cat lady. I have two cats and I DON'T want another one. Two is my maximum for my personal living space. But I digress.

About the dog. I begged to have the damn dog. K gave in and picked up the dog that I had heard about someone trying to find a home for. She was totally devoted to me imediately. All of the cats I've ever owned have been devoted to me, in a very neurotic and catly way. This dog was different. She was a dog and devoted in a very DOG way. Ugh, how undignified. It was cute and flattering at first but annoying before long. She would sit right next to me, follow me everywhere and stare at me with big insecure codependant obsessive devoted dog eyes. Very unnerving. My cat didn't like the dog being so persistent in her begging for attention. Sunshine, who happens to be the nicest cat in the entire world, would rub up against the dog to get her trust then smack the crap out of her. Because I'm basically evil, I found this mildly amuseing. The dog was a huge wuss and lived in fear of anything.

Oh damn, I need to go for now... I'll finish this later...

Counting The Days...

I haven't gushed about XXX recently. *sigh*

I'm counting the days until I see XXX. Another short vacation is sheduled. He's all I can think of these days. Damn he's sexy. It's been too damn long since I saw him - been making BOB work overtime. Three nights and two days with my sweetie, I can't wait.

Bachelor Party - Part II

We arrived at The Rose Room, after paying cover (thanks Petey!) and getting a nifty hand stamp that said HOT-E! (Which I HAD to grab and stamp on my boobie – no I wasn’t drunk) we ventured into the bar. The bar is narrow so it doesn’t have a dance floor or anything like that. The drag queens would walk up and down the bar doing their show, which worked, but not great. We ended up sitting at the back of the bar for a while and it virtually impossible to see the show at points. But I’m getting ahead of myself, when we sat down The Bear and I wanted drinks so I got up to get them and the very prissy waiter magically appeared and took our order, so I sat back down. One of the performers – I think it was Layla La Rue, but don’t quote me on that – was warming up the crowd between sets. She got back to our group and said “A group of straight people, who all is straight?” to which I raised my hand but most of our group didn’t. She started pointing to people saying “Your straight right? Why didn’t you raise your hand?” made me laugh, I guess part of our group was either confused about their sexuality (K, have a talk with them will you?) or embarrassed at being STRAIGHT in a GAY bar. Heh. I guess they might have been just fucking dreading being in a gay bar but were there just to humor bitchy, bitchy me… nah… they love me. Heh. Layla then said “You must know someone gay. A friend, a relative…” to which I raised my hand and loudly stated “My husband is gay!” She stopped and looked at me “What did you say?!” “My husband is gay!” She asked if I was for real, then asked my name and said she had to interview me and pulled me up to the stage area. She wanted to know how I found out that K was gay, I told her I outed him and she wanted to know what three things gave him away. So here are the three WARNING signs of a GAY husband.

1. He was always looking at GAY PORN.
   
2. Seemed to only want sex in the dark (I guess it was easier to fantasize about men when my fabulous nipples weren’t in his face).
   
3. (I really couldn’t think of another thing but I was trying to be funny) He’s always trying to dress better than me.

So Layla, being the Drag Diva that she was said “Well it’s easy to see why.” Pointing to my outfit. Bitch. I looked good. Eh, made the crowd laugh. She said something about how she needed to get me laid and I yelled “There any straight men in here?” which got laughs and her saying something about me needing to stop trolling for men in a gay bar. Heh. She sent me back to my seat and bought me a drink. Woohoo! A man bought me a drink! A man dressed as a WOMAN bought me a drink! Heh. Just my luck.

As soon as some seats opened up in the middle part of the bar we all moved over there. Which was a good thing, it was much easier to see the performers. AND the performers started messing with our group. At one point the one who MC’d the rest of the show walked up and touched/lifted Denise’s very large boobs! HAH! I wish I had of snapped a pic of the look on Denise’s face. She then proclaimed that Bill was a queen and that she had been with him so she knew of what she was speaking. Later when asking all the married women to see their rings she would look at them and proclaim “You must have done a lot of sucking for that!” I heard no arguments from the ladies that they didn’t… so… must be true. (Too much sharing people!) She later came back and announced that all the men in our group were gay… something I had always suspected…oh wait, no, that’s wrong… something K has always wished. Heh. Kidding. That drag queen was a fucking riot, I can’t give a good written account of some of the thing she said – it was a ‘had to be there’ situation. She sent drink over to Martin & Angie for it being their bachelor(ette) party and to Bill for taking all the crap about being a queen like a good sport. Petey made a friend of the waiter, which was humorous. The waiter had been bitchy with him (as only a flaming queer prissy waiter can be) when he paid for drinks earlier and said the waiter could keep the change and had said “Oh I don’t want to break you of your last $.75.” Later when Petey asked for water and tried to tip Prissy he would NOT take the tip. After the show Petey tried AGAIN to tip Prissy and again he refused. Heh. I think Prissy got a good look at Petey when we moved tables and decided he ‘liked’ him. So Petey, when do you want to go back down there? I’m sure your new friend would LOVE to see you again.

We left when the bar closed at 2 am. We had a great time. Well I had a great time, I think everyone else did – no one looked pissed at me for bitching to leave the titty bar, and no one tried to push me into oncoming traffic.

Then as if the universal powers that be wanted to make sure my night was complete, I got confirmation that I was looking good. We were walking by a line of people that were waiting to get into a club and one of the men said “Damn bitch, you look HOT!” I had to stop and thank him and give him the obligatory kiss and hug. Ahh someone thought I looked hot… a GAY man. Yeah, the story of my life. Maybe if I stopped dressing for gay men and trolling in gay bars I’d have better luck with STRAIGHT men. Of course NO one from my group was behind me when that happened, so they all probably think I was dreaming. Again, story of my life – when someone thinks I’m hot, there are NO witnesses! Damn it.

All in all it was a good night. Had a man buy me a drink and one tell me I looked hot – granted BOTH were GAY! I am the ultimate Fag Hag.

Birthday Wishes

In just mere weeks I will turn 33. I'm very excited about this. It's almost my BIRTHDAY! I'm doing this as a public service to all of you so that no one is left out on the gift giving opportunity to shower me with love ... and pressies, don't forget the pressies.

And to make it easy for everyone to shop for me, I've created a list.

1. This lovely bracelet. It's a bargain at a mere $49,000.
2. Of course if you get me that lovely bracelet, I'll need these earrings to go with it.
   
3. I'll need a new handbag, nothing extravagant, just this little thing.
   
4. Perfume, definitly perfume.
   
5. Shoes - oh yes I do love shoes.
   
6. A car, cars are always good.
   
7. A vacation.
   
8. Maid service.
9. A Chia Pet!
   
10. Botox! Nothing says love like needless and expensive cosmetic procedures!

Okay, obviously I'm teasing. I don't want that crap... except for the vacation, maid service and Chia pet. A nice card, a phone call, take me out and get me drunk - really I don't need much.

I've decided that this year is going to be a great year - and so far it has been - nothing like being absolutly crazy about someone (XXX) to make things great. So I guess the only thing I really do want is time, more time, I never seem to have enough time for just about anything. Just time... And a Chia Pet, don't forget the Chia Pet.

More On Bill

Bill did well in surgery, his bleeding is controlled. This morning his breathing tube was removed and he's doing well.

Talk About Devotion

I love this story about a bird that flew back to it's mate after being relocated. *sigh* That's so sweet.

More...

Bill went through the surgery well today.

8:30 pm we received a call from the hospital stating Bill was headed back to surgery as he was still bleeding, they said he is stable but they want to make sure everything is okay and see if they can get the bleeding under control.

Thanks to everyone who has kept Bill in their prayers/thoughts/voodoo chants/incantations and rattled goat bones for healing and recovery. Please don't stop now.

Serious Stuff Again

Bill is heading into surgery for a tripple or possibly quadruple bipass. Keep up the possitive thoughts/prayers/voodoo chants/incantations/etc.

Heading off to the hospital now.

Bachelor Party - Part I


Yesterday was an absolute blur of activity. I worked (as usual), rushed home to get Super Girl ready for the kiddy party she attended. Got K and the little people packed up so that I could take them over to K's boyfriends house after the party. The kiddy party was a lot of fun for Super Girl. K and Cabbage Patch had fun wandering the mall while the party went on. We all enjoyed pizza and cake after, then I carted them away.

By the time I was back home it was 9:30 pm. I called Petey to find out where/when/what on the bachelor party. I was expecting them to be at The Village Station or somewhere around there. Instead they were at Silver City Cabaret. Yippie, a titty bar. I get ready to go as there is still the promise of a Drag Show in the future.

Now every Fag Hag knows that you can't go to a drag show looking sloppy. This was the reason I had to head home to change clothes, fix my hair and touch up my make up. A red and white striped tee, denim shorts and white tennis shoes just wasn't going to cut it - the drag queens would have ripped me to shreds. A full wardrobe change, an incident with spilled sparkley stuff all over my hands and cleavage (got that cleaned up) and an anxiety attack over my hair and I was ready to roll.

I quickly made a large cup of coffee to take with me as I was getting tired. I arrived at the titty bar about 10:30 pm. Petey had already taken care of my cover charge so I just had to find them. It wasn't that difficult, they were at a group of tables near the main stage. I spotted Martin (the groom) getting a lap dance from a skanky (to me) dancer. He seemed to be enjoying it so what do I know? I sat by Petey as I was now his bitch since he paid my way in (damn it! He's always supposed to be MY bitch!). The novelty and intrigue of the new experience of being in a titty bar wore off soon as I peered around the place at all the really lame men sitting at tables. Titty bars are odd places, men don't go there to socialize so they sit there in groups staring at the bouncing titties trying to decide which dancer will get their money for the night and trying hard (heh, heh) to not look like they are aroused while in the company of their buddies. They sit there with the Lizard look, all higher brain function has shut off. Eh, deliver me titty bar hell please.

Petey and I entertained one another by talking about patrons at the establishment, discussing which dancers where not hot and why, me asking if this was ALL most bachlor parties consisted of and commiserating on how bored we were. It was starting to look like the bachelor party was going to continue at the titty bar until the bar closed and that was starting to irritate me. I was bored looking at girlie titties so I was ready to leave. When Lee and his wife got up to leave, I did also. I told Peter that I was going to go, I was tired of the titty bar - though it was mildy entertaining the first few lap dances that Martin and Angie got, I was really not interested anymore and that if there was no drag show in the future I was going to head home. He asked me to stay while he walked Lee and wife out and to ask the group what they wanted to do as it was up to them.

So in my usual delicate manner I ask if we were going to go to the drag show as I was bored with looking at bouncing titties. Everyone said that Petey was in charge so ask him. *sigh* When he returned I informed him that HE was in CHARGE and could make the decision. To my delight he promptly paid the tab so we could go.

We had missed the 11 pm drag show and as it was now midnight or so it wouldn't be long to wait for the 1 am show. The show had been moved from The Village Station to The Rose Room which is actually pretty small for a drag show. I had known about the show at The Rose Room for several years, I guess it used to be at The Village Station, who knew?

I love good drag. I love bad drag. I just love drag shows.

To be continued...

Next Episode -

The Three Warning Signs Of A Gay Husband
A Man Buys Me A Drink
And Learning That Bill Is A Queen

Stay tuned for more of

The Bachelor Party!

OK, that's all for tonight. I'm damn tired. I've been typing for 45 minutes. I still need more sleep. I'll write the rest later - maybe more photos.

(petey - is The Bear going to be ok with that photo being up? If not, I'll take it down. Let me know.)

Serious Update

K got home from the hospital about 7 am, Bill is doing ok, it's still very serious and he'll be in the hospital for a few days at least. More on all this later. Good thoughts/prayers/voodoo rituals/incantations/whatever still welcome and appreciated.

Oh yeah and send some Wake UP! vibes to me, I have to head off to work here soon on what little sleep I've had.

Comming Soon!

Update on the party last night (maybe even photos)!

Serious Stuff

This morning when I returned home a bit after 3 am I saw that there was a message. I checked my message and it was K's step mom letting us know that K's dad was headed to the hospital with a heart attack.

Bill is a good man, please keep him in your thoughts/prayers or whatever it is you do/have.

Thanks.

I Love That Spicy Meat!

That's the last thing Petey heard heard me say before his cell phone cut out. Suprisingly the conversation was not about XXX (let me tell you, I do love that spicy meat), but about food.

Planning to head out to a Bachelor/Bachelorette Party tonight. Petey is planning the party. heh. A trip to see a drag show is on the agenda - this promises to be a party to remember.

It's almost too bad that K is going to have to miss all the fun.

Scary Feet! Scary Feet! Scary Feet!

Mine specifically. Yesterday after a shower I realized that my feet are absolutely fucking scary. And not just because of the horribly misshapen and bruised toenail on the left foot. I have awful calluses and I scar very easily. I heal lightening fast but guarantee a nice mark from just about anything. I have high arches so it’s hard to find shoes that fit perfectly. Something always rubs some part of my foot. This added to the fact that I scar so easily leaves my feet looking frightening. It takes almost nothing to make a callous or scar on me. Wearing new shoes one day – new pink patch on toe that will either become a callous or scar. Wearing old shoes I’ve worn a million times – add to callous already present on foot. No shoes – something will be dropped on foot to cause frighteningly disgusting bruise or cat will dash across naked feet with claws extended to cause horrible painful looking scar that will not fade for months on end. Think about new shoes – some part of foot will become irritated. My feet are scary. I could go on and on about this but I know it would bore you – I’m seriously self conscious about my feet, though I’d like a professional foot massage and pedicure I have always avoided such a thing as I fear what others think of my frightening calluses.

Anyway, I digress. I noticed my feet looked more atrocious than normal the other day. I also remembered two important things, I am attending a wedding on the 31st and plan to wear lovely black sandals and second I’m visiting XXX for a few days and don’t want to unintentionally permanently injure the man by my feet rubbing against him in the night. This called for action. I needed a good foot soak, pumice and some serious moisturizer.

As luck would have it I purchased a foot scrub and some serious foot moisturizer last week. While I bathed Cabbage Patch I sat on the edge of the tub and submerged my feet for a while. Now that my feet have been washed, sanded and moisturized I am wearing socks in the hopes of waking tomorrow to if not heavenly soft feet then at least normal looking non lethal feet.

Movie Night
(or Cabbage Patch Trauma Night)

K is out tonight with his boyfriend. I thought it would be a lovely idea to take the little people to a movie. I figured we could catch the last matinee of Shrek 2 before we came home to make dinner. It was kind of a last minute thing that was decided during a phone conversation with K a little after 4 pm. The last matinee was at 4:45 pm so I cleaned up the kids and myself quickly then out the door we go.

We were barely out the door before Cabbage Patch starts WHINING. She has this LOVELY habit of whining whenever she has to walk anywhere. Usually she reserves it for the walk home but occasionally (like tonight) I get a special treat of whining on the way to our destination as well as the way home. Since Cabbage Patch just turned 3 she still falls a lot when she walks or runs or stands. Super Girl was much worse about the falling, her poor little knees and shins were constantly covered in scrapes and scabs. At 5 she seems to have outgrown that for the most part. Now it’s Cabbage Patch’s turn. The other day as we were walking across the parking lot to get into the car she falls and scrapes her knee. She’s fine. It makes a nasty looking scrape that gets an ugly scab on it, but she’s fine otherwise.

Tonight as we stepped foot in the parking lot of the movie theater she falls. On that knee. And bloodies it. Not just a little drop of blood or even a little trickle, but a freaking faucet of blood down her tiny little leg. I wipe the blood off her leg in hopes that the one river down her leg would be it, but I was wrong. I wipe about 4 streams off her leg before it starts to slow a bit. As I had nothing to wipe my hand on, I wiped it on the cement (I was careful not to touch her boo-boo with my now dirty hand from that point on).

We walk around the building to buy tickets and as we are standing in line I see a slow stream of blood has reached the front edge of her shoe. Sigh I get the tickets and we stand in line to get popcorn. I grab napkins to clean her leg up as we wait then put a piece of napkin over her bloody boo-boo to keep it somewhat protected.

Fast forward to after the movie and back home (yes she did whine all the way home). I discover that some Tiny Terrorist have absconded with the first aid kit. After some threats Super Girl locates the kit which now only holds three band aids and some empty wrappers (she’s off to bed early because of that). Grrr…

I get the peroxide to clean Cabbage Patch’s boo-boo as I now realize that the napkin was a bad choice of items to put on her boo-boo since I now have to somehow get it off and not further traumatize her. A few capfuls of peroxide later I decide a nice bath will work better as she’s starting to get a petrified look on her face. The bath is non-traumatic and enjoyable for her. She’s got a band-aid and Neosporin on her boo-boo (the one on her toe also – blister from her sandal) and she’s fallen asleep on the sofa while watching Wallace and Gromit. It’s so damn cute I may need insulin.

Sew Frustrating

Back in April I purchased a new sewing machine. A Brother LS-2125. I got it at a really good price as it was a new model being carried by my Wally-World and they hadn't put the new pricing on it yet so it was $10 less than what it is normally priced. I did not purchase anything else for the sewing machine at the time. I figured I had everything I needed. I already had 2 other machines at home (my antique one that was my great grandmothers and one I purchased 5 years ago but needs servicing) and had two different kinds of bobbins - plastic ones (which the LS-2125 uses) and metal ones. The machine came with three empty bobbins so I didn't need to seek out new bobbins until recently when I was sewing for Super Girl. I grabbed some bobbins from my stash and started sewing only to discover that after a short period of sewing the bobbin thread would tangle. Frustrating. This is the first time I realized there were more variety of bobbins than just plastic or metal (and I've been sewing since I was 9!!!).

We head to Wally-World with sewing machine manual in hand to procure bobbins. I break out in a nervous sweat trying to figure out what I needed - I can't make heads or tales of the manual. K chooses what he thinks is the right bobbins. We head home. Wrong bobbins. Last night another trip to Wally-World, return previously purchased bobbins, look for correct bobbins - this time with model # of machine written on front of manual. Can't find any that say they will work in my machine. Leave empty handed (bobbin wise anyway).

At home I look up the Brother page and fer fucks sake they don't have my model of sewing machine on their page! What the hell??? I start to wonder if maybe they don't make this machine anymore - it would be just my luck to have purchased the last of a discontinued model that's destined to blow up any day now. I do a search for my model of sewing machine on the internet and I can find it at several different places that sell sewing machines. I search for bobbins for my model machine - in the search I discover that there are no less than 6 different styles of plastic bobbins. YIKES! After much searching I discover what the correct bobbin is that I need. I don’t' know if I can find it locally but if not I know of a place I can order them from. In bulk even. I can order 500 of them if I want! 500! HAH!

Super Girl's New Outfits

I've still got several more things to make her efore school starts.

Got Your Nose!

I think everyone has either witnessed that game being played or played that game with a toddler. I know I have. Tonight after discovering the dinner we had procured at the store would take at least 70 minutes to cook in our conventional oven we took a trip to our neighborhood Culver's to have a tasty and ever so non nutritional meal. When we arrived Cabbage Patched pleaded with me to pick her up and put her on the counter. As I stood there peering at the menu Cabbage Patch starts playing 'Got Your Nose!' with me, but not with my nose. She says (rather loudly) "I got your boobies!" And grabs my boobs. I looked at her in shock as she did it again, then I grabbed her little hands before she could do it a third time and said "Let's not play that now." I looked up in time to see the teenaged boy cashier grinning and stifling a laugh.

Tea Pot

I am the proud owner of a shiny new tea pot.

Out Of The Mouths Of Babes

Super Girl just asked for a Coka Diarrhea. I asked her to repeat her self and after she said it again I asked her where she heard it, she said Dad as she pointed to the can. I looked at the can of diet soda and said "Diet Rite cola not diarrhea."

Microwoes Part II

Tonight a cooked a lovely dinner of roast, mashed potatoes with gravy, steamed cabbage and salad. The roast was perfectly cooked at 6 pm. My timing was off for dinner as I had forgotten that in order to cook the veggies I would have to actually cook them and not use the microwave as it is still broken. *sigh* I didn't remember this fact until the roast was out of the oven. I usually put things in my nice microwave cooking dishes and things are done in 6 minutes or less. Tonight I had to dig around for scarcely used sauce pans to cook in. I did at least remember to make the gravy last so that it wasn't all cold and coagulated by the time everything else was ready.

How on earth did my grandparents cook??? Someone PLEASE fix my microwave!

I Could Not Have Said It Better

I just read this off Meegan's blog. *sigh* that's the most amazing feeling in the world.

Psycho Link

Discussion over ice cream:
Me: We need to get a birthday gift for Gracie and a birthday gift for Josh and a wedding present for Martin & Angie.
K: Hmmm
Me: Well I'm going to get a book for Gracie. I'm going to get a book for Josh also.
K: OK
Me: And we can get a book for Martin and Angie as well...
K: We'll get them AD&D books!
Me: HAHAHAHA! That's what I was going to say!
K: See our psychotic link is still working, we are still connected.
Me: Stop thinking of show tunes!!!! Aaaaaahhhh! It burns!
K: (laughing to hard to make words)
Me: Make it stop!

Microwoes

There is yet another reason life sucks without a microwave. This morning I was very tired. VERY. In the middle of the night I had taken some allergy medicine for an unsightly rash that was invading my neck and chest area so I woke rather groggy. I wanted COFFEE this morning. Hell I NEEDED COFFEE this morning. I dared not attempt to make coffee in my diminished state of consciousness as I was quite certain I would surely cause myself grave harm. Now if my traitor microwave had been working I would not have had to worry about serious injury, I would have had coffee.

More kvetching... I returned home from working on Saturday and as usual K had taken the Little People out for pizza. Pizza Inn pizza I believe. They brought home left over pizza and cheese sticks. Usually I do like to partake in pizza after a long day (without lunch); I'm not a huge fan of Pizza Inn pizza though. A quick warming in the microwave makes it somewhat edible. Well I couldn't warm it. It was VILE. Two bites of cold Pizza Inn pizza was all I could handle, I thought I would barf it was that gross. So I ate the cheese sticks. Cold. Cold and cheese stick should not go together. They were at least not VILE.

Ugh. I need my microwave fixed!!!

Gay Boyfriend

I'm laughing. Go see that and laugh too. I guess I got the ultimate in Gay Boyfriend - I have Gay Husband. heh.

Word For The Day

mendacious \men-DAY-shus\ adjective : given to or characterized by deception or falsehood or divergence from absolute truth

Paula gave a complicated and mendacious account of why her grandmother's account was short. She obviously isn't very smart to be using the account for shopping since grandmother is in a nursing home!

Microwave Update



Juan the maintenance guy came by today to look at the microwave. He
informed me that the microwave was still under warranty and a service
person would need to be called to come out and fix it. He promised to
call and let me know when to expect the service person. He then told me
that he thought a plumber would need to come out to fix the upstairs
tub. Great, great. He said the fan would need to be completly replaced
and implied that it would be done soon. Yeah, I believe that. At least
he didn't give me an exact day to expect a repair this time.



So what does all this mean. It means that the fan probably won't get
fixed anytime soon, the tub will keep dripping for a bit longer, the
floor may never get fixed but the microwave will more than likely be
fixed fairly soon. Ah well at least I'll be able to make coffee.

Some Days It Sucks To Be The Queen...
 
Today is one of them. Some time around noon I started feeling poorly. Nothing huge like vomiting every 15 minutes or bleeding out the eyeballs, just a bit of gastrointestinal upset which I thought would go away quickly. Not so, after a few hours, a fever and growing tiredness I realize this is hanging in to make me miserable today.
 
Prior to The Little People entering my life, whenever I felt ill I would retire to my bed to have delirious dreams and quietly sleep it of, telling anyone who disturbed me (even to make sure I was still alive) to leave me alone (as the words 'leave me the fuck alone' were generally far too much trouble at that time). Alone, asleep, in bed. That's how I prefer my sickness to proceed. I don't want to be a bother, and I don't want to be bothered. I will emerge when healthy, otherwise stay away from me and my bio-hazard zone.
 
Now that I am a MOM (AKA the Queen around here) I no longer have that luxury. The Little People do not understand that whilst mommy is sitting on the commode for the 10th time in an hour, it is best for them to not try to have a conversation with mom, beg for something or fight with one's sibling. Nor do they understand that mom needs a coma like state to recover and when mom is in coma like state it is ill advised to stack various things on the stool to facilitate reaching the chocolate syrup on the top shelf so as to cover most areas of the kitchen in aforementioned chocolate syrup and multi colored sprinkles. *sigh*
 
I have tried several things to facilitate my much needed rest. I've tried to make it a game and tell them that they are doctors and I'm the patient in a vain attempt to get some peace by compelling them to feel compassionate toward their ailing mother. That only succeeded in having them get their doctor toys and poke me in the arm with a crayon every 5 minutes to 'give me a shot' until I finally threatened their little lives if they poked me in the same spot one more time. I've tried napping with them, but inevitably that is the day they will NOT nap and instead repeatedly request a story from me or ask me 5 million questions about the conversation we had 4 months ago. The results are the same in either case, mom doesn't get healing rest.
 
Enter Disney Hell. Thank goodness for the VCR and DVD player. Occasionally I get lucky and find a movie they LOVE and will actually watch (as opposed to their usual watching for 5 minutes then wandering off to wreck havoc elsewhere). Generally these 'gems' are some horrible Disney creations that the mere thought of makes me break out in a cold sweat and makes me wish for hard liquor. Disney hell. When I am not feeling 100% this is perfect for a nap. The little people still use this time to wreck havoc in the house or torture the cat, but only about half as much as normal and thus I can get a few moments of sleep - albeit with the awful background noise of horrible Disney music going through my fevered brain to create demented Technicolor dreams that will haunt me and disturb me for days to come. But sleep. That is good.
 
Must go now, the little people have finally agreed upon a feature and the couch is calling for me.

Day One Of No Microwave Oven

Breakfast:
Dear Diary,

Upon waking this morning I discovered that the state of my microwave oven was not in fact a bad dream. After repeated attempts to convince the microwave it was feeling better and would in fact warm my cup of cold cold water to a temperature that was pleasing and satisfactory for coffee consumption I realized that I was going to have to actually figure out how to warm water on the stove.

30 minutes of searching for a pan later I had it filled and sitting on a burner to warm. I sat at the computer to stare at my e-mail as I waited and dreamed of nice hot coffee. After what seemed like an eternity (must have been 5 minutes at least!) I ventured into the kitchen to find out the status of my water. It was still cold. Hmmm... What could I be doing wrong. 30 more minutes of fiddling with the stove and several burnt fingers later I had the proper heating element on beneath the pan of water. Back to the computer to actually read the e-mail this time. Several minutes later I was again concerned about my heating water as I had not yet heard the familiar ding alerting me that my water was prepared. My water was boiling by then. I still have no idea why it did not ding. I fiddled with the knob that I had previously learned controlled the heating element and turned it off. I poured (spilled) the water into the cup eagerly anticipating my caffeine. Then... eww... What's that in the water? Ugh. Seems the pan wasn't nearly clean enough and my diminished state of consciousness had impeded my detection of STUFF in the pan. *sigh* Wash pan using hand with only one burned finger, refill pan with water and repeat water warming process. This time things went smoothly. I stood in kitchen and watched as water boiled, for some reason it seemed as if it never would boil. Success finally! Hopefully next time it will take less than an hour and a half to make coffee. Gotta get that microwave fixed.

Lunch time:
Dear Diary,

My desire for left over spaghetti sauce and pasta was thwarted by the fact that microwave is still not working (I'm still checking every so often in case it was just tired or maybe it just had a viral infection). I figured that since I had managed to prepare my caffeine fix with little mishap I could managed to warm lunch on the stove top. It's amazing how quickly one remembers how to use a fire extinguisher when the bright flames of destruction are emanating from ones lunch pan. After fanning the smoke out of the house, getting the smoke detector to stop blaring, repeatedly convincing the firemen it really was just a case of burnt food and threatening/pleading with the little people to never breath a word of this to anyone, we had sandwiches for lunch. I've always liked sandwiches really, don't know why I even considered pasta.

Contemplating dinner:
Dear Diary,

I finally entered the kitchen after having two anxiety attacks from prior attempts to enter the domain of The Appliance Of Satan (the stove). A quick assessment of the contents of the freezer full of frozen veggies confirmed my fear that due to the microwave being broken I would indeed have to heat anything eaten on the dreaded Satanic stove! I briefly considered making the veggies as one would make sun tea as it is near 100 outside, but nixed the idea as I don't have any idea how long one would time 'sun veggies'. I am currently collecting menus laying about from all of the places in the area that will deliver a nice diner to my door. Though difficult with my blistered fingers and bandaged hand, I think it would be safest to avoid The Stove Of Doom and forego another inopportune meeting with hot hunky firemen (ya know, they really aren't all that open to being hit on when they think your home is a smoking inferno - gotta admire that dedication to duty though). More on dinner later, right now I'm running a bit high on caffeine as I've taken to eating my coffee by the dry spoonful to completely avoid the whole nasty affair that's still so vivid in my memory (throbbing fingers too). I think I need to keep it to the recommended serving size as the 12 or so spoonfuls I've already ingested is starting to cause hallucinations and the urge to run up and down the stairs repeatedly, brain having trouble keeping up with my fingers also.

Angry Albino Sock Monkey In Drag

And you thought he was disturbing normally.

The little people love AASM so much. All children should have the joy of an Angry Albino Sock Monkey.

The Blame Game

In thinking about yesterday I've decided to place blame for items where it is appropriate to do so... i.e. I will randomly and inappropriately blame others for my misfortunes.

1. The Near Death experience Of Shaving. Obviously this is K's fault. He bathed the Little People in my bath over the weekend. My completely safe dull razor that has been sitting on the side of my tub for months on end was missing, forcing me to replace it with a deadly sharp brand new razor of death after a few days of vain searching for above mentioned SAFE razor (and a few days of horribly hairy frightening pits and... um... Well you get the idea). I see now this was a failed murder attempt by K. HAH! I survived it! Try harder next time.
2. Broken Microwave. The aliens were obviously trying to contact me regarding their ongoing experiments on K. If I've told them once, I've told them a thousand times, the telephone is for talking, the microwave is for cooking and television is for mind controlling mental telepathy. This also falls under K's fault (I can't rightly blame the aliens now can I? That would just sound crazy).
   
3. Lack Of Hair Removal. Due to the wax not heating properly, my unattractive and undesirable hair was not ripped viciously from it's roots as intended. This is the fault of the bastard microwave's blatant betrayal of me. Bastard microwave! How you make me suffer!!! Again K must accept the blame for this as the microwave falls under his area of blame.
4. My Pathetic caffeine Addiction. Clearly this is K's fault. I don't think I need to explain, it's obvious that he is to blame.
   

I feel much better now. Knowing that none of the unpleasant events from yesterday were MY fault has eased my mind and cleared my conscience. K, well I feel sorry for him, how does he sleep at night? I suppose it all could have just been a case of BAD Karma but it's much more fun to blame K.

XXX Speaks

heh XXX left something on my tag board. Everyone give him a big, warm, Karmically Challenged Tag Board Welcome!

I didn't know he read this except when I prompted him to look at something. I guess from now on I'll have to stop detailing the fabulous sexual exploits we have. ;o) *sigh* XXX is so damn hot and sexy, how'd I get so lucky to find him?

Splitting Hairs

OK, now I'm back with coffee in hand. Nice hot coffee.(heh Super Girl is so funny, she's playing with a box and she just said "Mom, do you know what's in here?" I said "Books?" She said "No, a bomb." and gave me a big grin. Heh, and some people actually wonder why I refer to them as Tiny Terrorists at times.)

I think I've mentioned before that I'm a hairy female and I don't mean the lovely long hair that cascades down my back. I mean in places where women aren't supposed to be hairy (I'll leave it at that so as to not cause anyone to have nightmares of frighteningly hairy women). I've often joked about how after I retire I'll work in a carnival as the bearded lady. My sweetie, XXX is such a character, he once promised me he'd shave my back for me when I'm an old carnie. heh, what a great guy.

Anyway, I digress.... So I spread most of the contents of the jar of wax on my undesirably hairy areas and ripped it off only to discover that much of the undesirable hair was still attached to MY body (I think it had to do with the wax not being warm enough). Ugh. I search for my tweezers and they are NOWHERE to be found. *sigh* I'll find them later or buy new ones. I'll rewax later (I refuse to shave as I despise stubble in these areas - ick).

Off to the tub to bathe and shave my legs. I succeed in shaving my legs AND cutting each of my legs. Once above my left ankle and once under my right knee. And no they are not just tiny nicks that produce a few droplets of blood, oh no, not me, I get rivers of blood trailing down my legs and pooling at my feet when I get out of the tub. I attempt to slow the blood loss by absorbing the life blood oozing from me with the only towels I put in the bath - white ones! Yay! Now I can have towels that look like I've murdered someone! A couple of band-aids later, I'm fine, just slightly light headed (probably due to dropping caffeine levels and not blood loss).

We're Gonna Starve!

I just discovered something horrible. My microwave oven is BROKEN! DAMNIT! BROKEN!

You do realize the implications of this don't you? I can't cook dinner! We'll starve! heh, just kidding, I actually cook with the stove and oven. But it does mean that I'm not drinking my noon cup of coffee though. That's a bad thing. A REALLY bad thing. I would have used my tea pot but last year after 10 years of loyal service Moo Moo (the cow tea pot) fell the fuck apart. Now I'll have to heat water in a PAN like some primitive!

Well the dead microwave kind of explains why it took 20 minutes last night to cook my spaghetti squash and why it took 5 minutes to warm up my wax this morning (more on that later).

Just one more fucking thing to add to the list of shit Juan the maintenance dude needs to fix. Grrr... Note to self: make voodoo doll of Juan.

Off to warm water in a PAN! I feel so betrayed by that microwave now!

Evil Bastards??



Above is a photo of the label off the cupcakes I purchased for the Little People to celebrate Cabbage Patch's birthday with last night.

The cupcakes came with a birthday candle in the middle of each cupcake. I lit them for Cabbage Patch to blow out and after 3 or 4 tries she finally did in fact blow them out. I turned around to the computer to proceed to upload the photos I had just taken of the event. K went to remove the candles from the cupcakes. The candles relit. Now my question is who would put relighting candles (trick candles) on a cupcake labeled "Baby's First Cake"??? Evil bastards, that's who.

Birthday Party

Tonight we took the Little People to Planet Pizza for Cabbage Patch's birthday. They had a BLAST. We enjoyed it also. It cost just $23.80 for the 4 of us with the kids getting unlimited rides and soft play area (also included was a large one topping pizza and a pitcher of coke - the pizza was actually not that bad). The Little People spent most of their time in the soft play area - which is kind of like the play areas at a fast food place, but it was HUGE. I was jealous of them getting to play in there! They rode two of the rides and by then it was time to leave.

Our other consideration for her party was Chucky Cheese. I have managed to avoid The Rat this long though and I will continue to actively resist going to The Rat for as long as I can. A party at The Rat would have cost us $43! K had the 'pleasure' of going to his nephew's 4th birthday in December at The Rat and he said the pizza was horrible and they didn't have nearly as many games as Planet Pizza did.

Anyway, the Little People had fun. I stopped by the store for a couple of cupcakes on the way home. The Little People are off to bed after blowing out candles and eating too much icing. Ahh life is good for The Little People.

Protection

How have I lived without THIS!!! And at $4.99 it's such a deal to never have to worry again.

Go ahead, Look, you know you want to. (this is site that's safe for work!)

Cabbage Patch - The Beginning
*warning to men* this is girly mom talk, just move on to the other posts and ignore this.

Three years ago today I woke early on a Friday morning still painfully pregnant and two days past my due date. I was doing daycare from my home at that time and had an over active 2 and a half year old of my own in addition to the two toddlers I took care of three days a week.

I was feeling fairly good for me while pregnant (I'm miserable while pregnant, sick a lot, quite uncomfortable, moody, food cravings and aversions, waddled when I walked and HUGE) - that few weeks preceding that day were actually really good and I was feeling really really good and even enjoying my pregnancy (which was a first). Going past my due date was absolutely expected for me. I went 6 days past with Super Girl. The midwife had told me on the past visit on Sunday or Monday (I forget exactly) that I would not make it to my next appointment the next week, she was certain I would give birth before then. I was excited. I had already made up my mind months earlier that I would deliver this little girl on the 13th of July as her sister was born on the 13th of February and I wanted both girls to be born on the 13th.

My sister D knew of my desire to birth on the 13th - I don't think she believed it would happen though. D would be acting as my doula for this birth. Either on the 12th or the 10th she drug me and Super Girl out to walk around the historic down town area of my city, in hopes that all that walking would start my labor. It was hot, very hot and I was uncomfortable. I hated that walk but I also wanted to get things going as I was HUGE and ready to birth - have I mentioned it was hot? All that walking didn't get get labor started.

Back to Friday. When I woke that morning I knew I would give birth that day. One of my clients had taken her baby out of care as she was having pre-term labor issues and was now on restricted activity so she wasn't working anymore - no work, no money for daycare. I was still watching the 2 year old though. We followed the normal schedule for the day. Playtime, reading time, song time, learning time, lunch time, nap time, outside play time, snack time, reading time, more play time, home time... During nap time I called D and we chatted about things I had done and could do to get labor started. I had already had sex the night before and was drinking some read leave something or other tea. We discussed nipple stimulation to start things moving. Oh, K & I had decided that we would use Hypnobirthing to get me through a natural home birth (K is a hypnotist). After D and I finished our conversation I the above mentioned labor starting method as well as some self hynosis. I started feeling a few cramps, nothing really strong though. Through out the day when ever I had a chance I concentrated on labor starting. At 4 pm I called D and told her I was having some contractions and was in labor. "Do you want me to come over now??" she asked excitedly. I said "Don't rush, it's going to be a while you know, come over if you want." Then I instant messaged K and told him that labor was starting "Do you want me to come home now???" he asked, my answer "Only if you want to, you can wait until you finish work, it's going to be a while." Both said they were on their way home right then. I called the aunt of the toddler I watched to find out who would be picking her up and when as I was in labor, but it wasn't a rush. I left that message for her. D showed up at 5:30 pm. The aunt showed up 5 or 10 minutes later - she was all panicked that I was in labor, I assured her that she needn't have rushed nor should she worry, I was just in labor. When she asked if I was having contractions and I told her I had just had one while we were talking I thought her eyes were going to pop out of her head. heh. I wasn't in pain at all. K showed up at 5:45 pm. Everyone rushed over despite my instructions to not rush. D started timing contractions while K took Super Girl with him to the store and the Chinese take away place to procure things for the evening.

Karma wasn't smiling on K that night, he discovers that the restaurant forgot/lost his order - this is after an hour of waiting. At about 8:30 pm D and I joke that K is going to miss the birth of his baby if he doesn't arrive soon. After 2 and a half hours he returns with food and movies. At 9:30 pm I decide that I will take a nap as labor will take a while so I should sleep while I can. At 10 pm I get out of bed to go sit in the tub as the contractions are getting more intense - not really closer together just a little more intense. D hears the tub running and comes to see if I'm OK, I tell her I am, I just need to be in the tub. K comes into the bathroom to check on me also. D and K sit down and talk with me while I'm in the tub (the bathroom is really huge). After a bit I told D that maybe we needed to start timing the contractions again. She wrote down 10:20 pm as started having a contraction and moved to a hands and knees position. My water broke right then and I delivered a 9 lb baby girl 7 minutes later. (I won't bore you anymore with details of that since I've bored you enough.)

Now she's 3. My baby.

My New Addiction

I hate to admit it. I've developed a liking... No, no, LOVE - strong LOVE for coffee. Not just any coffee - definitely not the generic crap that's been sitting in a coffee pot half the day. Fancy-smancy coffee. Stuff that's flavored and creamed and sweet. Stuff with fancy names.

It started innocently enough. I got a little tin of the International Foods flavored coffees - actually it was for D but she forgot to take it with her and one day in a moment of desperation to perk myself up I opened it. I liked it. That was a long time ago. I finished that tin off and generally didn't consider it anymore as it was full of sugar and bad stuff I was trying to avoid. Then one day it happened, in a discussion with XXX regarding coffee (which he does like) I mentioned my secret love of the international Foods flavored coffees which I avoided due to the extra calories, etc. He mentioned that they made some that were sugar free. What? Sugar free? As in 'ok for me to drink sugar free'? The next trip to the grocery store I sought out the red and white tin with fancy writing on it. Sure enough there were a few varieties sans sugar. With much trepidation I selected the French Vanilla. The next morning I nuked some water and stirred in the powder. I sipped with expectations of nasty coffee taste mingled with funky artificial sweetener taste and was delightfully surprised that it tasted delightful. So there it started, most mornings began with a cup of sugar free flavored coffee. I tried the other varieties of International Foods coffees that were sugar free (only three damn it!).

Next thing you know I'm having a cup after lunch in addition to the one before breakfast. Now more recently I've added on at afternoon snack time. Ahhhh coffee. I just bought a big container of some flavored coffee yesterday - I broke from my usual brand in favor of a bigger container that was cheaper. More coffee! I'm glad I did, it tastes about the same and it cost a lot less.

I now day dream of Starbucks fancy coffees. This disturbs me. I used to laugh at people who had Starbucks addictions. Sneer at those who HAD to have their frothy sweet cup of overpriced coffee every morning. Now... I want one. Just one. I want to try it, that's all. I would never become a regular - I'm far to cheap to buy it regularly. I just want ONE!

I now desire a French Press so I can make my own coffee, ad my own Splenda and low fat cream. I want to choose beans and grind them myself. mmmmm...

It's not really a big deal though. I know I can stop anytime I want. (This coffee thing is probably a good thing really as I have quite an impressive collection of little used coffee mugs in my cabinets. Now they are getting some use!)

Hair & Nails




I colored and cut (6 inches off)last night, straightened today. I don't think anyone can really tell it's shorter. I bought this nail polish yesterday because it's named SPANK. heh.

Super Villains Rock!

I wanna be a Super Villain. I don't want to be a Super Hero. Super Villains get cool, swank villain hide outs. They have servants and loyal (fearful) henchmen. They are never, ever put in moral dilemmas of having to choose between their great evil goal and anything else. Their relatives/loved ones are not weaknesses or liabilities - they manipulate them and bend them to their will. Super Villains also get to dress cool and they always seem to have plenty of money to finance their nefariously EVIL plans. And I bet even if they do fall behind on their bills they don't get called by creditors - who the hell would call a Super Villain on a past due bill... "Hello, Mr. I. M. Evil is it? Um yeah, I'm with Nuclear Collections and it seems that you are WAY past due on your payments for that plutonium. With late fees and past due charges looks like you owe $10,000,000,000,000,000 right now. We need to see what can be done to bring this account current, we can handle this over the phone to speed things up as we do take credit cards, otherwise I'm going to have to report you to and you do know that this will go on your credit report right?" Yeah... Sure.

Super Villains also have cool alter egos. They never have lame jobs, it's always something super cool like the president of a mega corporation or they've taken the place of the acting president of a small but wealthy country. It's never delivering working at a news paper or bagging groceries.



My favorite Super Villain - Ras Al Gul. He is one of Bat Man's villains. He's super evil, super smart and he has a Lazarus pit so he's not going to die (yes I know, geek stuff). Even when Bat Man defeats his evil plans, he never defeats Ras Al Gul. *Warning* *Warning* Comic book geek moment ahead!* Ras Al Gul has kicked most of the JLA's asses, he's done some serious ass kicking on the Legion and he still has time do some serious ass kicking in Bat Man on occasion. His daughter is in love with Bat Man but her fierce loyalty to her father always drags her into his plots and leaves her conflicted. Master manipulator. Gotta give the man his props.

Words For The Day

si·nus
Pronunciation: 'sI-n&s
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English, from Medieval Latin, from Latin, curve, fold, hollow
: CAVITY, HOLLOW: as a : a narrow elongated tract extending from a focus of suppuration and serving for the discharge of pus b (1) : a cavity in the substance of a bone of the skull that usually communicates with the nostrils and contains air (2) : a channel for venous blood (3) : a dilatation in a bodily canal or vessel c : a cleft or indentation between adjoining lobes (as of a leaf or corolla)

head·ache
Pronunciation: 'he-"dAk
Function: noun
1 : pain in the head
2 : a vexatious or baffling situation or problem

Definitions of Sinus Headache on the Web:

associated with inflammation of the sinus cavities, usually as result of an infection or allergic reaction; described as deep, dull ache, located around the nose, sometime extending to forehead and ears
www.headachecare.com/glossary.cfm

Sinus headaches are associated with a swelling of the membranes lining the sinuses (spaces adjacent to the nasal passages). Pain occurs in the affected region – the result of air, pus, and mucus being trapped within the obstructed sinuses. The discomfort often occurs under the eye and in the upper teeth (disguised as a headache or toothache). Sinus headaches tend to worsen as you bend forward or lie down. The key to relieving the symptoms is to reduce sinus swelling and inflammation and facilitate mucous drainage from the sinuses (description by AAO-HNS).
www.sinusdiseasemanagement.com/glossary.html

Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.

Thursday's bloom

Rude Awakenings

Evil Elmo

This morning I was awakened by the loud blaring singing of a certain red furry monster. My wonderful dreams of snuggles with my sweetie were interrupted by Elmo's Word at full volume. Let me tell you, absolutely NOTHING will wake you like the sound of Elmo singing. And believe me it's NOT a pleasant. Elmo can ruin a wet dream. Waking to Elmo is worse than waking to a smelly dog sleeping in bed with you. Worse than waking to find that someone drank all the milk and you've just poured a big bowl of CoCo puffs. Worse than discovering that someone drank all your beer. Worse than spilling tomato sauce down a white silk blouse. Waking up to Elmo will definitely get you awake quick though.

Lysol

So ladies, have you ever considered douching with Lysol? No really, this is a serious question. Guys - would you go down on a chick who's been douching with Lysol? I mean it sure would take care of the smell, but fuck it's gotta taste awful!

Now I'm sure that you all are thinking "Why the fuck are you asking that???" Take a look at THIS AD - it's a vintage Lysol ad, and yes it's for real - here is another one.

Absolutely frightening.

Need a Laugh?

The Muppet Phenotypes

Personality Test

I just took this test. And this is what it said about me.

Wackiness: 50/100
Rationality: 48/100
Constructiveness: 56/100
Leadership: 80/100

You are an SECL--Sober Emotional Constructive Leader. This makes you a politician. You cut deals, you change minds, you make things happen. You would prefer to be liked than respected, but generally people react to you with both. You are very sensitive to criticism, since your entire business is making people happy.

At times your commitment to the happiness of other people can cut into the happiness of you and your loved ones. This is very demanding on those close to you, who may feel neglected. Slowly, you will learn to set your own agenda--including time to yourself.

You are gregarious, friendly, charming and charismatic. You like animals, sports, and beautiful cars. You wear understated gold jewelry and have secret bad habits, like chewing your fingers and fidgeting.

You are very difficult to dislike.

So, what do you think?

Garden Treasure

Glorious Morning Glory

Wildlife By The Creek



I love the butterfly, the purple flowers - I have no idea what they are, but they are pretty.

The Dingos Ate My Baby!!!

Read It Here.

I guess dingos aren't considered a good family pet. Darn.

Decendents of Genghis Khan Get Free Meal!

Read this story, it's incredibly cool! I wish I lived in London!

Crazy Blogger

Blogger seems to be having some issues today. I've been having difficulty posting things or seeing things that I've posted. *sigh* Crazy thing. Can't really complain, it's free after all.

New Things In My Garden

Snail Tank

So my fish tank is currently a 'Snail Tank'. As in I didn't drain if after the horrible happenings of Ragnorok (yes I know that's just lazy) and now there are lots of snails in it. Yuck. It's been kind of cool watching as the snails developed - that's part of why it's still not drained, I was fascinated for a time by the growing eco-system in my tank - but now I'm tired of the snail tank. Supergirl is not though. We found a snail last week. This is the exchange we had:

Me: Put that snail down, it lives outside, you can't keep it.
Her: No, I'm going to keep it.
Me: Put it down. It will die if you take it inside.
Her: Nah-ah. I'll put it in the snail tank.
Me: It's a fish tank.
Her: It's a SNAIL tank.
Me: No, I'm going to clean it out so I can have fish again.
Her: NOOOOOOOO! I want snails!
Me: No. (swatting snail from her hand and into brush)
Her: Hey!
Me: I'm going to get rid of the snails - end of story.
Her: You lost my snail!....

I want fish again. Granted the sails have been exceedingly low maintenance as in I haven't had to do squat and they just seem to keep living. Still, they aren't very exciting, they don't do anything and they aren't very pretty. But low maintenance. It's tempting to just get some SeaMonkeys to fill the tank with. I think Supergirl and Cabbage Patch would like that. Although I have a huge ethical issue with SeaMonkeys as they are the LAMEST pet available. All kids get them with the mistaken belief that they will be everything the colorful packaging promises. Disappointment follows as you watch them develop and discover they do not sing, dance or perform as the pictures on the package promise. I think I'll wait until my kids discover SeaMonkeys on their own. When they ask, I'll buy them for them and let them experience the childhood rite of passage of SeaMonkey Disappointment.

I think I better go clean my tank now. Anybody want a snail? Home grown.

Long Long Day

I left the house at 11 am to drive to K for a quick lunch (it was not intended as a quick lunch but I realized when I printed out the directions to the funeral that it was going to take me 45 minutes longer than I anticipated) then headed out to parts West of here for the funeral. The town was a bit further than I thought it was.

The little people and I arrived about 10 minutes before the funeral was to start. Angie was in the foyer of the funeral home and she was delighted that we came. She hugged on the kids and kissed them both. Seating was at a premium. The service was very tasteful and very nice - especially considering it was a Southern funeral - I've been to PLENTY of Southern funerals (having a Southern family and all), and this was by far the most tasteful. After the preacher talked about some bible scriptures and talked a lot about rewards and crowns (gonna have to consult the Christian in the house on all that... I mean what kind of crown exactly? Big like Queen Liz wears at special events or just a tiara? (more sarcasm)) there was a video presentation to music. It was not quite far up enough for me and the little people to get a good view of it but we did see part of it. I think it spanned 4 or 5 songs - 2 of which were Elvis songs :o). Toward the end it showed photos of Angie and her dad and was set to Martina McBride's "In My Daughter's Eyes" (I might have the title a little wrong, but it's close). Everyone there knew that Angie was Daddy's little girl. I could hear sniffling through out the room. It was very touching and heartbreaking. Bob looked like such a happy man and I know he was Angie's hero. At the end the we did the "Shake hands with the family, express condolence" thing. Luckily for me I had the little people in hand and didn't really have to do that at all. Angie's family grabbed the little people and hugged and kissed them saving me from the awkward handshake and mutter of "I'm so sorry for your loss". I'm glad the little people were there, their hugs gave everyone on the first row big smiles.

To my utter surprise, amazement and relief, the little people behaved VERY well during the funeral. I probably used up all my Good Kid Karma for the rest of the month on this though.

Anyway, I'm glad I went, I think Angie and Martin both appreciated it. My thoughts are with Angie tonight.

The Fan, The Tub, The Floor

Today the maintenance man is coming to fix the fan, the tub and the floor. Theoretically. Yesterday the maintenance man told me that he would be over today to fix the above mentioned items. That still doesn't fill me with faith that these items WILL get fixed today. Ya see, last week an eerily similar scene played out. Thursday I ran into said maintenance man who assured me he would be by the next morning to fix things. I was busy Friday morning. I returned Friday afternoon to find that the fan, the tub and the floor were still in a state of disrepair. *sigh* I waited. I called on Wednesday to find out WHEN (if EVER) my items would be repaired. I'm seriously tired of NOT having a ceiling fan in my living room. The tub, well it's the tub upstairs and since I rarely venture upstairs - and have NEVER used the tub/shower upstairs, I generally don't notice the state it's in. I'm sure K would like it fixed though. The floor is the tiles in my bathroom. Part of them where 4 corners come together has come up off the floor and a certain little 2 year old who shall remain nameless (Cabbage Patch) took to picking at them. Not a huge problem, but it looks unpleasant.

I'm going to a funeral today so I'll be out of the house from 11 am (going to have lunch with K first) until 4 pm or later. It would be a delightful surprise to return home to a working ceiling fan, a not dripping tub and repaired bathroom floor. *sigh* but I'm dreaming I guess.

*Later*

Much to my surprise (sarcasm), when I and the family arrived home today near 6 pm the fan was not fixed. The tub was not fixed. And the floor was not fixed.

I take all the blame for this as I must have dreamed up the previous conversation (both of them!) that detailed when and how the above mentioned items would be fixed.

Petey called to day to jokingly offer to fix the fan while I was attending the funeral. I should have taken him up on it.

I want my fan fixed. I don't know who I'm going to have to kill or what ancient fan fixing gods I'm going to have to make an offering to, but I will get my damn fan fixed. Maybe a cute little voodoo doll of Juan the maintenance man would get his ass in gear.

Happy Cats




See the cats are happy too!




And photos of the other rarely photographed cat. See how happy they look? (the Tiny Terrorists were out for the evening)

More Cat Humiliation




Sunshine's hair cut from a while ago...






This morning when Supergirl had Sunshine wrapped up like a baby (mummy).

Shit That Pisses Me Off

New York child killer goes free. Fuck. This man killed his illegally adopted daughter and he only serves 17 years of his sentence???? Where is the justice in that??? Fucker should have gotten the death penalty.

And if that isn't enough read about Foster parents charged with abuse. They had 18 children in their home!!! I'm not fond of the Department of Human Services or their agency of Child Protective Services. Sadly another case of them not doing their job of PROTECTING children and placing them in safe homes. I hope these foster parents get prison time and get treated the way they treated the children.

Passing On
(just rambling tonight... sorry if this is just crap)

The Little People and I have a funeral to attend this Friday. I know, very depressing post. Angie is a dear, dear person. I've never met her father, but I've heard a great deal about him from her. I feel for her. I've lost my mother, I know how desperately difficult it is to let go of a parent - especially one you are very close to. Angie is so cute, she never refers to her father as 'father', she always says "my daddy". Her eyes light up when she talks about him and what a great guy he is. She's daddy's little girl. I was always a Mamma's Girl. It's hard to loose that person, to not be daddy's/mamma's little girl. Every time I've gotten an update about Angie's dad I've dissolved into tears. I wish I could take her pain for her.

I feel especially bad for her in that this is a time when she should be deliriously happy. She is getting married the end of July. My sister got married a week before our mother died. I remember how mom's impending death over shadowed her day, a day that should have been so happy for her. I hope that Angie's wedding being a little further from her father's passing will make it still a joyous occasion.

Anyway... I'm going to the funeral on Friday. The last funeral I was supposed to go to, I bailed on. I made an excuse about not being able to find child care - I made this after the fact so as to not have anyone offer a solution. I was a pussy. I still carry a great deal of guilt about it as the person who passed was a former co-worker. He was very fatherly and very sweet. I just didn't want to deal with it, he was the same age as my father. He has kids my age, grand kids my kids age. I'd like to say that I didn't want my final memories of him clouded by the memory of his sad funeral but that's just bull shit. Avoidance was easier. Deep down I'm a very emotional person. I sometimes just bubble over with emotions and I tend to be exceedingly sensitive. It's not exactly something I'm proud of or fond of - I really do try to hide it - the sensitive emotional side, I don't try to hide the bad temper I have, although I probably should. Anyway, this is why I avoided the funeral of my co-worker. I have this fear that I'll cry in front of everyone. I haven't cried at a funeral since my great grandmother's when I was a sophomore in high school. Seriously. I didn't cry at my mother's funeral. I wasn't raised to be like that. In these situations people fell into two categories - those who are to be silent and stoic and those who are to be brave and strong then fall into hysterics. I've always been in the first category - aside from my great grandmother's funeral (where I totally lost it and freaked everyone out by my hysterical crying). I don't cry in public. I've only cried in public once since that funeral - that was when my home was in a fire 6 and a half years ago - we lost almost everything. Thank G*d for friends, family and the kindness of strangers.

So anyway, I'm rambling... I dread the funeral because I empathic with Angie. I adore Angie and I wish I could take this pain from her. She's putting up such a brave front. I'd like to skip the funeral just because funerals are just morbid and depressing, I can't though. I'll go for Angie.

Gay Pride Shoes



Last night we purchased these shoes from Target for Cabbage Patch. She LOVES them. We have had many laughs calling them Gay Pride Shoes. Eh, why not, she's got a gay daddy.

Rain, Rain, Go Away!

We got cabin fever! We got cabin fever! (sung as the muppets do in Muppet Treasure Island)

Fuck. It's been raining all day. I need out of the house. I need to wear the tiny terrorists out. Chaos and Destruction are fighting over... Well anything, any-damn-thing that one has and the other does not.

This morning I was taking out the trash and I found a particularly valuable item (yes I was dumpster diving) - a pink Barbie jeep. The little people already had one. As in one car for two children meaning when one was interested in playing with the car, the other would also be interested in the car and fighting would ensue. So I grab it, bring it as an offering to the Tiny Terrorists and everything seems rosey. They accept the offering and head upstairs to play for about an hour.

Fast forward many hours later... Barbie cars hold no interest at all for either. It's raining outside, whining inside and they are now in the midst of negotiations (read fighting) over a stupid baby doll and doll back pack. I have a headache (sinus headache) and I want out of the house!!!!

Whaaaaaaaaaa!!!! Calgon take me away! (or bring me a roll of duct tape and some valium or a roofy-colda.)

Cat Humiliation Photos






I was looking through photos today and found these. I had to share.