Never In Your Own Bed

At 4 am this morning, while I was finishing up the dress. Super Girl came out of her room, down the stairs and told me she was sick and had thrown up. I told her to wake her daddy!

Today when speaking to K, he tells me that both girls ended up sleeping in his bed as Super Girl did in fact throw up - in her sister's bed! I started laughing so hard. I never thought of that one when I was a kid.

What A Fucking Whirl-Wind

Whew. I finished. I'm done. Well with MOST of it. A few minor details to take care of, but the majority of the costume is FINISHED. And in time. I stayed up until 4:30 am this morning finishing it. I can not believe the shit I've had to do to get this done. It's beautiful. I should have made her take a photo in it. I will later. I had to remake a major part of it and that pissed me off, that took too damn long. My ancient sewing machine is acting temperamental. I'm hoping it's just a phase - I still need to make a dress for Cabbage Patch to wear - I'll stick with any of my dresses I already have for now... Too bad though... I have some of the most beautiful fabric to make a dress with and it just pains me that I haven't used it yet.

I worked this morning I was up and out of the bed by about 7:15 am. Yes, really. I worked until 2:30 pm. I think I'll go nap now. I desperately need sleep. The good thing is that I made pretty good sales today and I stayed really busy so I didn't have any time to FEEL tired. Thank G*d for sugar and caffeine! I'd be a puddle right now if I didn't have that.

Things That Piss Me Off (today)

People who go out of their way to make other people's lives difficult.
People who think those who ask questions are idiots.
People who think they are smarter than EVERYONE else.
People who intentionally sabotage things for others.
People with a grudge.
People who still think high school popularity games are appropriate even though they have been out of high school for decades.
People who refuse to admit they are wrong.
People who do all this shit and it makes more work for me.
Fuckers.

Today

I'm in a mood to write today. I wish I was in a mood to do laundry or clean or paint or sew not write. I need to be doing all of those, not this. But THIS is what I'm in a mood to do. Silly me...

I Wish

I wish I'd told him one more time
I wish I'd looked him in the eye
I wish I'd held him close to me
I wish I'd whispered softly "I love you"
I wish he'd heard it in my arms
Next time, next time
I'll say it yet again
I'll look him in they eye as
I hold him close to me
Whisper softly "I love you'
As he lingers in my arms

I wish I'd held her one more time
I wish I'd felt her soft fur
I wish I'd heard her purr again
as she snuggled next to me
I wish I had trusted my gut that day
Next time, next time
Never came
Another cat to cuddle close
Another meow to wake me
Her purr is not the same
If only I had trusted my gut that day
I could have heard her purr again
So many tears for one little cat

I wish I'd held her hand once more
And made her laugh yet again
I wish I'd listened a little better
To memorize her every word
And captured her laughter in my head
I wish she wouldn't have lingered on
I wish for just one more good day
To share with laughter and play
How sad that she had to go
She was to young to leave for good
I was to young to say good bye mother.

I wish I'd smelled her little head
And held her tiny self one more time
I wish you'd slept so peacefully next to me
so I could breath in your baby scent yet again
I wish your chubby little legs
didn't grow long and tall so quick
I wish I could hear your funny baby laugh yet again
I love the little girl you are now
I just wish I could have one more baby kiss before you grow up

I wish I cold stop time
I'd hold him close and whisper "I love you"s
I'd stroke her fur and hear her purr
I'd make her laugh until she cried
I'd kiss that baby while she giggled

I close my eyes and make that wish
Then let it all go, it's time to move on
I'll hold him when I see him and hope he hears "I love you" from me
I'll take my little girl's hand and laugh
We'll plant seeds and hope for flowers very soon.

Wishes turn to hope
My sadness turns to smiles.

Visible Panty Lines

I was recently reading through a new magazine (new to me that is) and saw an article on panties, a three page article on panties and panty line. I could only read through less than half of it before I had the overwhelming urge to stick my finger down my throat and purge myself of the entire experience. But of course it's never that easy. The basic premise of the article is how panty lines are an absolute death sentence and wearing 'granny panties' is the most offensive thing one can do. I also gleaned from the article that anything NOT a thong is pretty much considered to be a 'granny panty'. I flipped to the end of the article (on my way to the next article) and saw a colorful and well put together chart of types of panties, how bad of a panty line they would cause and when it was appropriate to wear each. What The Fuck? The only people who seem to care about Visible Panty Lines (VPL) are women and quite frankly I don't dress for women. I don't give a flip if another woman sees my panty lines, bra strap or a run in my stockings. Men don't care about panty lines, if they are looking at an ass carefully enough to see panty lines, they generally are looking for reasons that have nothing to do with fashion (and those who are looking for fashion, well I'm just not interested in). I never consider VPL when I put on my panties, ever. Usually I consider if they match the bra and outfit, what I'm going to be wearing (skirt or pants) and what I'm going to be doing (movie or booty call). The most often thought out question in my mind while searching through my undie drawer is "Hmmm... Panties or no panties? I wonder if he'd like satin bikini, a thong or just nothing at all?" Never whether I have a panty line. Ever. Maybe I'm just out of the loop. If a woman is obsessing over her VPL I think maybe she doesn't have enough to do.

It's A Million Laughs Here

The little people have been in bed for quite a while. I just now went into my bath. As I walk in I see a toothbrush on the floor near the tub. It's a new toothbrush that earlier today had been in the kitchen on a counter in it's pristine packaging. I think "ah... Someone's been practicing their dental hygiene, that's okay," and pick up the toothbrush. I'm in the bath for a few minutes when I notice something sitting on the tub - a tube to be exact. I think "hmmm... I don't remember buying a new tube of toothpaste," and reach to fetch it off the tub. Then I realize what it is and start laughing.



One of my darling children was brushing their teeth with some lube! HAHAHAHAHAHA! (thank goodness it was a brand new, unopened, still in the box tube of lube though).

I think this makes me a bad mommy for laughing...

*Note* this is not my usual brand of lube - I usually stick with Astroglide, this tube was accidentally left by a house guest.

You are guided by the wind. You obey your impulses.
You are the kind of person that is always comng
up with ideas that would be fun, yet somewhat
destructive. (Rate my test)


What force is your soul?
brought to you by Quizilla


funny... I figured I'd be fire.

How Does A 2 Year Old Win At Jenga?



Don't ask how or why, the answer is the same... she's 2.

(and yes there WAS milk in the carton when she did this *sigh* I think I need to explain the rules to her again, I don't remember the "Put all the blocks in a carton of milk while mommy is in the potty" rule...)

heh...

And Now For Something completely Different...

That last post was down right depressing! Yikes! I thought I'd share an e-mail I sent a friend about dinner I made last night.

Mine fine... I made dinner... Roast, salad and mashed potatoes and gravy. Sounds good right? Well it was HORRIBLE! HAHAHA! So I make the potatoes - instant potatoes because I absolutely hate peeling potatoes, I mean if I was ever stuck in a Turkish prison, peeling potatoes would be the perfect torture for me. I just hate it. My mother made mashed potatoes for my former stepfather every fucking night so I always had to peel potatoes. Not that it matters, I'm not a big fan of mashed potatoes anyway, I like the ones made at KFC best though with their gravy, but I prefer rice and gravy over potatoes and gravy any day... Oh where was I? Ah yeah, instant potatoes... So I'm making the potatoes and I put too much salt in - but I'm not totally sure it's too much, I think it is, but then in a moment of laziness I don't restart what I was doing and I go ahead and commit most of my potato flakes. After tasting the finished product I realize they are WAY to salty and make the remaining potatoes to kind of even out the salt (this is one BIG advantage to making mashed potatoes from instant... I'd have had to suffer with the REALLY-REALLY salty potatoes if not for the instant flakes...Which really didn't really matter anyway.... Keep reading) - this works some, still salty, but not inedible. I stir this all up as I microwave the gravy - yes yes I do make instant gravy also. I like it. My mom NEVER made instant brown gravy so it's like a delicacy to me. I hated my mom's gravy also, but I hated most of her cooking... That's why I learned to cook anyway, so I wouldn't have to eat her food. Oh yeah, back to the gravy, so I use the meat drippings to make the gravy - done it before and it's always been really good. I make everyone's plate then my own. The roast was cooked a little over done for my taste, but hey I like it pretty rare - it was still good. I sat down to eat and tasted the potatoes and gravy. The gravy was so freaking salty and with a combination of the salty potatoes it was completely inedible. Completely. I had lots of gravy on my plate as I like the gravy more than the potatoes. I also like gravy on my roast... So my roast was way to salty. I don't even know how that happened other than some sick sort of karmic balancing. The salad was good though... Hard to screw up a salad from a bag and salad dressing out of a bottle though... Yeah. AND to make things EVEN better... This is just the icing on the cake. Kent came home with a horrible sinus headache... These generally move to awful migraines. Part way through dinner he starts feeling nauseasous! He says from the headache, but hell I wouldn't have blamed him for if he had said it was the food! And the little ones... they ate all of their food. All of it. I make a tasty dinner and they pick at it, I over salt everything and they devour it. Just had to share, it was all so damn comical. Some days I feel like my life needs a laugh-track.

More About Me Than You Care To Know!

Sometimes I have to ask myself why I make things so damn difficult. In a conversation with XXXX yesterday I got very sarcastic. This he did not like, granted the sarcasm was directed at me it did indirectly make him seem to be a bad guy, which he most definitely is not. He told me it was hurtful. He was right. I felt bad for having said what I said and apologized. Then XXXX put me on the spot and asked why I got sarcastic and hurtful. The tears started immediately. I said that it was just how I grew up, everyone being sarcastic. I couldn’t give him an answer right away. I had to think (and cry). Why do I get sarcastic? Fear. Fear of rejection. Make sense? No? Well didn’t really to me either until I thought about it more – it all became really clear later last night (long after the uncomfortable conversation ended). I was able to tell XXXX that yesterday though, fear of rejection. It’s my safety mechanism when I think someone is going to reject me or leave me, I get sarcastic to try to lessen the blow. He pointed out that it really doesn’t work, which is true, but I convinced myself over the years it does.

If you’re curious about my psyche, keep reading – here’s a little family history. I was always a shy, sensitive kid – I think I got it from my father, the sensitive part – now I look at my youngest, Cabbage Patch, and I see that she’s very sensitive, thankfully not shy but a little on the sensitive side (what a pain I must have been to my mother). My parents divorced when I was 6. I took it very hard, took it very personally and was very hurt by it. I didn’t see my father for many, many years – but that’s a story for a different day. My mother made the horrible decision to move us (me and my sister) in with her mother, our grandmother. My grandmother is not a sympathetic woman, nor is she an understanding woman. Empathetic, kind, giving or sweet are also words not used to describe her. What she is mostly is tyrannical, selfish, manipulative, paranoid, pompous and a cruel dictator. Or at least she was. She’s changed over the years. At any rate, the decision to move us from the stability and love of our father to the instability (and I mean that in ALL ways possible), poverty and emotional abandonment of my grandmother was a fool hardy and idiotic one. One that we (my sister and I) would pay for. My sister and I learned quickly that we were at the very bottom of the list of priorities. Truly. The cats were considered well before we were. I remember a time when we got to watch the cats have dinner while our bellies were growling. No money to feed us, but let’s not make the precious little kitties suffer. This was (is) my grandmother’s mentality. The comfort of her furry beasts came well before the comfort of her own flesh and blood. A hard lesson and mean lesson for a child to learn. The next year was the year I was injured in a car accident due to my uncle’s blind anger and idiocy. This left me with scars. Years later I discovered that instead of my grandmother, my aunt and my mother being overly concerned about the child who had nearly died, they were more worried about concocting a story to cover for my uncle. They were more worried that my uncle would be at fault for the accident! Good L*ord! He WAS at fault! As I said I found this out later – it’s amazing what one can learn from an old police accident report and from talking to one of the police officers who responded to the call. Anyway, when I went back to school I was shunned by the other kids because I had scars on my face. My sister who was always protective of me, became even more so, thus making her also more of an outcast than we had previously been. My grandmother extended no sympathy to me and even went so far as to attempt to cover my scars in an attempt to alleviate her embarrassment of me not being perfect in yet another way. What did I learn? I learned now that love and acceptance was conditional. My conditions were that I be pretty (like my sister), thin (like my sister) and smart (like my sister). I was constantly reminded that I was NOT like my sister and was therefore inferior and not worthy of their love or attention. This was quite painful. I never hated my sister for it, I just wanted to be like her. I cried at night to look normal and to have my daddy – he always loved me. (Note* I realized later in life that my sister had it just as hard as I did and they rode her just as much as they did me). If I was upset because kids teased me at school I was told not to wear my heart on my sleeve and get over it (mean, but in retrospect it did help me make it through the tough times), if I cried for my daddy I was told that he was a son-of-a-bitch and to shut the hell up. If I cried for my mother (who was hardly ever there) I was told to shut the fuck up and stop being a baby. That was life. No one was allowed to have any kind of sad feelings except the adults. No one was allowed to cry. Our hurt feelings were never to be acknowledged as they did not matter. Even our happiness was orchestrated and measured. If we were too happy then someone was sure to change that. The only time I was ever happy was when I was with just my sister – which was a lot since we were latch key kids by then. But our happiness was cautious at best. We lived with the knowledge that whenever the adults returned our life would return to the abuse and neglect we were used to. Depending on the mood of the adults we would either be chastised for something, beaten or told to be quiet and go play. In our house children were to be seen and not heard – actually children were not really even to be seen unless it would benefit the adults somehow, otherwise we were to stay the fuck out of sight, shut the fuck up and don’t make a fucking mess. We got used to it. No one cared what we felt so best not to feel it. No one cared what we said so best to stay quiet. No one wanted to see us so best to not be there. We played outside as much as we possibly could because it meant there was little chance of accidentally enraging the adults and bringing down the wrath of our grandmother upon us. We learned to not trust the adults. Their moods were fickle and quick changing.

When I was 9 my mother hooked up with who would become out step-father. He seemed nice enough, but I didn’t trust him too much, he was an adult after all. He turned out to be not so bad. (later he did something that forever damaged the small amount of trust I did have in him – but that’s another story) His moods were not as volatile as everyone else’s and he seemed genuinely concerned with our happiness. And for all of his short comings he was. He tried harder than anyone else to make us happy and to let us be kids. He let us talk and played games with us. He actually valued us. This was new. And best of all he took us from grandmother and the other adults. Mother became a bit of a different person, oh deep down she was still the same, but since she wasn’t constantly the target of her own mother she was much eaiser to be around. We never had an easy life, poverty was always nipping at our toes, but things were better without grandmother around. About this same time that mother hooked up with her soon to be husband, my aunt hooked up with her future husband. He frightened me, almost more than grandmother. He was gruff and loud and swore a lot. He was also extremely sarcastic and caustic. A compliment was always somehow an insult. My soon to be step-father was also sarcastic though not as harshly as my future uncle. I learned from them. They still insulted me and ran me down, something which I wasn’t supposed to defend myself about – except if done with sarcasm. Sarcasm was my saving grace. I was allowed to banter with the hateful adults if I was being sarcastic. That was considered cute and witty. Sarcasm became my shield from their mean comments. Not that their barbs and insults didn’t hurt because they still stung, I could at least now deflect the damage and maybe, just maybe inflict a bit back to them. For some reason these morons respected that.

As I grew up I held on to that sarcasm. I used it when ever I felt threatened. I used it when ever anyone got to close to me – we moved a lot, it was easier to be sarcastic and funny than to let people know it hurt to say good bye. Things were never permanent in my life – that was one of the few things I could count on, nothing is permanent, no one stuck around and I had to be responsible for myself (my sister was gone by now – I was hoofing it alone). So the sarcasm is what I had to help me through. Not a great way to cope but that’s all I had ever learned.

Counseling later in life helped with learning to be happy (I am a pretty damn happy person, albeit a bit paranoid, obsessive and skeptical, but very happy and optimistic for the most part).

Fast forward to now. I have a great guy as a lover. XXXX is absolutely wonderful. And that scares me. I have a lot of feelings for him. And that scares me. I love the man. And that terrifies me. Why? Because life is just not certain, the future is unsure, nothing is stationary… Okay, really? I worry that it won’t last, that he doesn’t love me, that he’ll find someone better that he likes more than me, that I’m not pretty enough or smart enough for him, that I’m not good enough, that I don’t deserve this euphoric feeling I get when I’m with him, that he’ll find out something about me and run like hell, that it’s all a dream and I’ll wake. Has he done anything to make me doubt his feelings or interest? No, quite the contrary. So why was I so damn sarcastic yesterday? Why did I say things to hurt him? I must have no social skills. I am so much trouble for this man, I honestly wouldn’t not blame him for calling things off – I don’t want him to, but I don’t know that I’d blame him.

So anyway, he doesn’t like my sarcasm and quite frankly after realizing how biting it really is, I’m not all that fond of it either. I need to work on stopping it. That and not being so paranoid with XXXX. Gotta take things one day at a time. Sigh

And that concludes the tour of Judy’s psyche, tune in next time when we explore her relationship with her mother and how that colors her own views of motherhood.

Sew Good!

I am back! I have finished part (most) of my sister's ren costume. I'm quite pleased with the outcome. It's a fabulous dress. Take a look:


It's a work of satin and silk. I still have the sleeves to complete and a few other things to tweek on it. I'll post more pics when it's all complete.

I'm hoping I can complete at least one more costume for her before the deadline (which is in two weeks) - so I may not be on much. Also I need to make a dress for Cabbage Patch to wear to my cousin's wedding on the 24th - Super Girl has a lovely pink satin dress so I need something to match or coordinate (yes I do match/coordinate my kids on a regular basis - they can hate me for it later). Going to be a busy time for me. As I also want to make a new dress for myself to wear! (I just need some new sexy clothes thats all).

Must go now. My house is desperatly in need of a good cleaning and de-crapping.

My Favorite Bug

I love cicadas. I love the whole live cycle of them - very cool. I love the noise they make, it sounds like the trees are humming. I was wondering when (if) we would see cicadas this year. Last year I saw ONE cicada and was horribly disapointed that the trees were not full of them. Cicadas are one of the only bugs I will pick up and touch (only in the final stage though). I was thrilled to see this story. It leaves me hopefull that soon the trees behind my town house will be filled with my favorite bug.

Procrastinating

So I'm here at the computer wasting time when I have so much to do. I'm so far behind on this project that it's not even funny. Ugh. I will get it finished as always but just not leaving myself much time.

I'm a habitual procrastinator. I always have been. I work well under pressure. I remember writing my entire senior paper the night before I had to get it typed in and printed to turn in - and even then I didn't get it printed until the morning I had to turn it in! Yikes! (I made an A on it so it was worth the effort). This lovely pattern was continued during my brief college days as well - I wrote 4 English papers in one day because the deadline for the 5 papers we were to turn in for the class was the next day (my sister wrote one for me just because). I've always procrastinated. It works well for me - I held a 3.67 GPA in college - so I suppose I shouldn't complain.

Well I guess I better get started before I start waxing poetically about XXXX. *sigh*

Lego My Family!

We have been having way to much fun with the Lego site.


this is a re-do of me (I discovered they had boobie bodies for the lego people!) and K's rendition of himself.


And this is the offspring - Super Girl and Cabbage Patch. :o)

One Big Happy Lego Family!

Now go! Make your Lego self!

Lego Me!



Go make your own lego self!

Naming IT

Why is it that men have to name IT? Why? Really someone tell me? I know not EVERY man has a name for IT but I know of more who do than who do not. Usually it's a stupid name too. Why is that? How many call it "little friend" "Love Muscle" Or "Love Rocket"? Not very original. My personal favorite 'Little Elvis'. That is so funny and cute. Of course I don't think I could EVER refer to IT as 'Little Elvis' - honestly what woman calls her partners *ahem* by THAT special name he has given it? Who really? It's all kind of silly... but 'Little Elvis', that's cute.

Choose A Better Photo!

A friend of mine was chatting with a guy on line. He was totally enamored with her and trying to impress her. He directs her to his profile pic, take a look at the pic and tell me what's wrong? If you guessed that he's using his LINE UP picture then you got the answer right! My friend was laughing hard and not making sense. I saw the profile and laughed too.

Advice for anyone online: Do NOT use your police line up photo! Even if your recent arrest photo is your most recent and most flattering, it's just a BAD IDEA!

Bad Me

I'm such a bad girl sometimes. Bad in such a good way. 'Nuff said. XXXX really needs to live closer to me.

Stupid Small Minded People

This story irritates me so much, I'm not even sure what to say right now.

My personality is rated 33.What is yours?quiz by midgetfarm.com



Your score is
33/50
what does that mean?
Others see you as fresh, lively, charming, amusing, practical, and always interesting; someone who's constantly in the center of attention, but sufficiently well-balanced not to let it go to their head. They also see you as kind, considerate, and understanding; someone who'll always cheer them up and help them out.

Skool Daze

I was thinking back to my early school years today thanks to a discussion with D. I was remembering how incredibly excited I was to start kindergarten and how on the first day my mom was there with me and how they asked me if I wanted to stay that day. I remember saying yes and then my mother left as they led me through the school, when the short tour was done I expected my mother to be there waiting for me, waiting to take me back home, but she wasn't. I was not happy, though I didn't start crying right then, I just could not believe my mother would LEAVE me at school with all those strangers! How could she do that to me??? She returned at the end of my day and I was just a little more world wise (as much as a 5 year old can be that is) and a little more skeptical of her. It all came back to me today that I disliked my kindergarten, it was a place of torment for me. It was a fancy, 'forward thinking' montessori school and I hated it. I recall having a mean boy pour the water color water on me for no reason, once my lovely painting that I had worked very hard on was swiped and many times the bigger children (read:all the other kids) would tease me or throw blocks at me. I took things very seriously - too seriously in fact. I cried a lot in kindergarten. I was such a big baby. Kindergarten SUCKED!!! Now as I consider that Super Girl starts kindergarten this year and the time looms closer and closer each day, I am filled with dread (and flash backs to a brightly colored geometric shaped hell filled with demons and torturers disguised as small children singing the alphabet song and throwing blocks at me). Eh, I got over it, I liked first grade so I guess all hope is not lost.

My very British name is Elizabeth Wilkinson.
Take The Very British Name Generator today!
Created with Rum and Monkey's Name Generator Generator.

Should I Wake Her?

Oh my, I've been particularly prolific today with my writing. Cabbage Patch is taking a long nap today. Super Girl is trying hard to NOT nap but she still has to have quiet time so I'm getting some computer time that I usually don't get. I've been writing things quickly then posting, if I had realized I would have this much time to spend on the computer I would have started (and finished) a few letters that desperately need writing. Ugh. Suddenly I'm feeling like I've been wasting time. Motherhood and guilt go hand in hand. Off to do something productive and redeem myself! ;o)

Desperately Seeking Organization

One of the things that I noticed when I was having lunch with FAN (Former Arch Nemesis) was that her house was extremely organized. Right down to her kids rooms. That made me glad I had not suggested we meet at my house. Organization and my household are unfamiliar acquaintances. You see I am one who desperately WANTS organization. Everyone else in my home seeks chaos and disorder. I do what I can to keep my own little area organized – my dresser is organized with undies in the top drawer, pajamas and lingerie in the next, shirts neatly folded in one drawer, shorts below that, sweaters and seasonal velvets in their own drawer and the last drawer for miscellaneous items. My closet was at one time organized by shirt (long sleeve or shirt, silk or other) jackets, skirts, pants, dresses, etc. I even had my nearly a hundred pairs of shoes matched. I like my things in the same place every time. I like things folded the right way, put in the right place. I want to know right where to go when I need something. This is not the case in my house, my children (Chaos and Disaster) find organization a force to defeat, and this is something they get from K, their father. I believe it is a genetic thing that was passed along to them. Last night after the little people went to bed and K was out, I took the opportunity to sort and organize the down stairs toys for the little people. Barbies and Barbie accessories in the basket, electronic learning toys on the shelf, dress up clothes in the brown milk crate, baby doll clothes in the basket and other toys/dolls in the hot pink crate – doll houses on the window sill. I’ve spent most of the day (while the little people were awake that is, it’s nap time now) nagging the little people into putting away each and every toy they take out before getting the next one out. The little people didn’t like it at first but seem to have accepted this as how the day will go. To their credit they haven’t destroyed my hours of work yet, but have passively aggressively rebelled by just playing with the blocks and not anything else so as to avoid having to clean anything else up. I’m ok with that. Although I fear leaving the room to handle laundry or do dishes, as I KNOW that their innate natures of disorder will take over and in less than 10 minutes the living room floor will be covered with toys and dress up clothes like a California mudslide. Fear and paranoia, yeah I know.

I dream of a house of organization and matching furniture. I don’t know if I’m wired to have it though. Although I crave and love organization, I was not raised in it. My parental units were exceptionally disorganized and cluttered. My mother was the Queen of clutter. As such I have inherited the clutter gene and am the Grand Princess of Clutter. Sigh it’s frustrating really. I organize my kitchen cabinets, my pantry, my book shelves, I even try to organize my computer desk, yet I collect clutter. The clutter wouldn’t be such an issue if it would stay organized – meaning if tiny hands would leave it alone and not scattered through out the house at random times.

Anyway, my visit with FAN gave me inspiration to organize. I’m going to work to organize my house and toss out the things that refuse to organize (no, I’m not talking about my family, although that would definitely make organization easier! But hey, I’m always up for a challenge). Wish me luck, I’ll let you know at the end of the week if I’ve procured kennels for the other family members in my attempt to keep them from disorganizing my hard work. Heh.

I’m All For Happy Weddings!

Gay marriage, why is this such an issue? Why should gays be able to get married? I have yet to hear a reasonable argument against gay marriage. I’ve heard people say how it will destroy family values – yeah right, like all the unmarried people having babies isn’t undermining ‘traditional’ family values already (not that I’m against unmarried breeders, I’m just using it as an example), or the argument of what if they get a divorce – well so, don’t gay’s deserve to be able to go through a messy divorce just like straight couples? I mean why should they get to keep all their assets in a nasty break up? What about alimony? What about being saddled with your ex-spouse’s debts and bad financial records? Equal treatment of gays! If they share a bed they should have to share financial disaster!

But seriously, I would LOVE for gay marriage to be legal. Just think about it, gay weddings could single handedly pull this economy out of the shitter. No really, think about it! All the FABULOUS weddings! All of the glamorous affairs – all of the formal wear and catered dinners! All of the incredible floral arrangements and ice sculptures! Hell just the income alone on the catering could feed a third world country for a few years! The invitations would be flying; the postal service would have to hire double its current staff just to handle all of that! Wedding photographers would be booked for months in advance; the prime locations for receptions would be booked for a year or more ahead! And honeymoon vacation spots would be hard pressed to make enough room for guests! Think of the money circulating! Think of the tourism! Think of the parties! Gosh I would spend my weekends looking for gay weddings to crash just to see the opulent and flashy affairs. My closet would be bursting with formal dresses and matching shoes. I’d spend hours shopping for unique trinkets for perfect wedding gifts for the loving couple. Wow… what a brighter, more interesting and much more beautiful – and fashionable world it would be.

Support The Economy! Support Gay Marriage! (For my own selfish reasons, I’d get the privilege of planning a gay wedding and being the matron of honor when K found the man of his dreams.)

What Is Love?

This is something I’ve been pondering lately. I guess because I had a brief flurry of dating (which has now left me a bit sour and put off). I don’t know if I believe in ‘love at first sight’, it’s a lovely concept but I don’t know if I buy into it. Although I do know people who swear that the first time they met their significant other they knew that he/she was ‘the one’. Still I can’t help but be skeptical. Nothing like that seems to work for me. I’ve had that ‘OMG! This person is so amazing, I want to be with them forever’ (or the ‘I can see forever in your eyes’ as D would say) feeling before (Roller Coaster Man) but that never seems to be reciprocated back so I am left with genuine doubts as to ‘love at first sight’ being genuine. So it leaves me wondering what exactly that is. If not love is it just misguided obsession? With me, it’s possible – hell even probable.

Then there is the ‘Like at first sight’, this I trust much more. I can tell – like most people – if I click with someone – like me and XXXX and not like me and Mr. Asshole. I do like XXXX very, very much, if things were different… well who knows what would happen. I’m enjoying spending time with him right now; he’s an absolutely fabulous man.

Anyway all this love talk brings to mind a conversation I had with a coworker about 9 years ago. Her name was Karen, she was old enough to be my mother and we got along famously, best of buddies at work. She appreciated my spontaneous, optimistic personality and constant smile on my face. I liked that she was just as silly as me and liked to laugh (she did have the best laugh). We worked in utter hell but being able to take a break to make her laugh made it livable (mime day was one of the funniest things we ever came up with). She had been married for 26 years. One day she was talking about Charlie (her husband) and she told me how when he entered the room she still got goose bumps and butterflies in her stomach. After 26 years, still. I remember looking at her and briefly thinking she was lying, and then feeling extreme jealously. No offense to my husband but we didn’t have that kind of relationship, I just assumed people didn’t have those kind of relationships – that was Hollywood and fairy tales. Karen telling me about her love for Charlie left me wondering if I had made the right choice to marry my husband (I know I did despite all that has happened, I have two wonderful children and he is my best friend now, we make better friends than lovers). I still remember the look in her eyes when she spoke of Charlie.

And here I am almost a decade later wondering. I don’t really trust my heart in these matters. Not nearly logical enough. One needs to be logical when choosing a mate. Yet my heart is still clouding my head from time to time, and I have to admit that I don’t like it not one single bit. That’s a lie, I like some of it. I like how thinking of that person makes me smile and sigh, I like how just the sight of that person makes the butterflies in my stomach take flight, I like how in quiet still moments my mind wanders to that person and I find myself smiling and looking forward to seeing them, I like the warm feeling I get from hearing their voice… there is a lot to like about it all. But there’s enough not to like either – the out of control feeling, the queasy roller coaster feeling, the missing someone feeling and the emotions, oh the flood of emotions. Tears, elation, sadness, loneliness, giddiness, anticipation… ugh, enough already. And enough with this confused feeling as well. I need a switch somewhere that I can just turn all this off. Just have a logical physical relationship with commonalities and friendship, not the rest of this.

All of that makes it sound like I’m insane, and maybe I am. I doubt many would argue that I am not. ;o) One of my dear friends has accused me of being afraid of commitment – actually a few people have said that to me. One has suggested that I intentionally sabotage relationships and another has suggested that I intentionally seek out unavailable men so as to have a reason to not have a commitment. It seems silly, but completely possible. Except for Roller Coaster Man, he’s not unavailable – maybe he’s just an exception. I don’t know, I can’t imagine what I’d be afraid of with a commitment. Eh who knows, maybe it’s time for me to get some therapy.

Teen Angst

Recently I’ve been reading a blog of a remarkably articulate and well written 15 year old. In the most recent days he’s written about the current high school drama going on. It brought back memories of my high school days, I’m sure it would bring back memories for everyone; I think everyone had basically the same experiences in school. The drama that is going on is that one particular boy is being singled out and made fun of by some other students. The particulars of the situation don’t really matter; this is a story that has been done a million times over at every high school – well school for that matter, not just high school. Everyone has this memory. Everyone has gone through this, just taking part in different roles– as the person being ostracized, a friend of that person, the person doing the ostracizing or a friend of that person. I’ve been all of them at different times, I’m sure most people have as well. It struck me as funny, sad and ironic to read all the drama of the situation. I went to the different blogs out of curiosity to know why this boy was being singled out. No special reason really, just the usual, his personality chaps someone else. It’s funny how self absorbed teenagers are. I know they are supposed to be, so I completely excuse every one of them for it. What is different is how the internet has changed this. When I was in high school in the late 80’s we had to gossip to each other and write scathing notes, maybe even resort to graffiti to sully someone else’s image. Now teens have blogs and web pages, where they can devote pages upon pages to defaming the particular object of their ire. It’s mind boggling. I have no idea who or where any of these teens are but I know who hates who and why! I mean really! And apparently they have web rings and all so people from the school (not just close friends of the people involved in the incident) can read all about it and comment on whose side they are on – hell I could even comment on it if I cared to! Wow – talk about taking school yard spats to a new level! I can not even imagine how out of control my little pathetic life would have been back in high school with a blog where I was pouring out all my deep dark feelings and insecurities for everyone to read and comment on as they pleased. I think some things are just better left locked in diaries stashed under one’s bed.

The situation mentioned above struck me as ironic in timing since I had just had lunch with my Former Arch Nemesis. In high school we didn’t get along for any other reason than we were vying for attention from the same people. We were both extremely insecure (as all high school kids are), self absorbed (again a teen age trait) and short sighted. There was never an incident that happened, never a word that was said, just didn’t like each other so we sniped about each other behind backs. I honestly never said all that much, I spent as little time with her as I could so I didn’t really have much dirt on her – besides, I was particularly self absorbed at that time and spent most of my time discussing my current boyfriends or most recent drunken party. I can’t speak for her, I only know of one incident that happened where my best friend took up for me. No one ever told me what was said just that Mary had gotten in my Nemesis’s face and everyone thought things would come to punches. We had 4 years of disliking each other without real justification. Then last week we spent 3 hours talking and laughing. I discovered that we were quite alike in high school and still are now. She’s grown a lot as a person and I’d like to think I have also. In the time we spent talking it never came up as to what had ever happened. It really didn’t matter. Not now that I’m 32 and have two lovely children. I’m so far from high school it’s just a funny memory of fashion disasters and bad hair. I wish I could impart that to the teens mentioned above – not to take all this so seriously, it’s not a mater of life and death, and once high school is over… well all this is over too, stop wasting time on hating and fighting, savor the sweet special moments of growing up.

Ok that’s it… enough sappy crap, back to ME!

Stooopid Men

So this guy that I went out with briefly and decided that we were just not compatible - i.e. he was an amazing prick and I am way to good for him and that the thought of spending time with him while he talks at me (not to me) made me want to shoot him. Anyway, on the advice of D, A and K, I sent an e-mail (A said he didn't deserve to get anything more than just an e-mail) and I canceled a scheduled date (at least 24 hours in advance) and gently told him that I didn't want to see him anymore - we were just not clicking. He sent back an e-mail making it glaringly obvious that he's just a stupid prick and didn't take rejection well - even when it's worded nicely - and most importantly he just didn't GET what I was trying to tell him (no common interests and that I just didn't like his lack of personality). I just ignored it. That was a couple of weeks ago. Tonight he sends me an instant message echoing his last e-mail. Sheesh.. He could see I was on, so I answered him, he wanted to know why I didn't want to see him anymore. Shit, you gotta be kidding? He's wanting me to spell it out for him? WTF? He can't just take a polite 'not interested' and run with it, he WANTS me to kill his ego? Damn. I was nice though. I tell him I started seeing someone - not a lie. He starts saying how he thought that's what I wanted with him. Um... nooooooo.... We had 2 dates!!! Damn! That's not enough to start picking out china patterns from. He gets pissy from then on and tries to get me into an argument (another reason I cringed at the thought of spending time with him, when he wasn't droning on about HIMSELF he was argumentative). I didn't bite for the argument. Here is an edited excerpt from this part of the conversation: (yes I did change his screen name to reflect his true personality)

ImTheAsshole: ... Just delete me from your messanger as I will you and loose my number. I'm sorry to have known you.
judypooh: OK, whatever. I'm not going to argue with you. Think what you want if it makes you feel better.
ImTheAsshole: I deleted you please do the same. I do not want to waste my time.
ImTheAsshole: Good luck with XXXX.
judypooh: you were deleted a long time ago! Get a life.
ImTheAsshole: I have one, and not with a whore like you.
judypooh: yeah yeah, sour grapes. Your just pissed because you can't have me. Makes me even that much happier that I kicked you to the curb. Your blocked from here on out.

OK, for any guy out there who may not have realized it - calling a woman a whore when you really just want her back is NOT going to do it.

Anyway, I just felt like sharing because I'm a bitch and thought my adoring fans (all 2 of you) would be amused as much as I am. Bitch not whore.

Ahhh if only that WAS the end of the STOOOPID man file, but it's not (refer to the title of this post - men not man). It must be the weekend for men who can't take rejection - i.e. men who need a clue! And on to our next contestant...

Doc J and I were supposed to go out the first weekend of February, that's the last time I spoke to him. No biggie. I was getting tired of him, seriously tired of him. He was getting possessive. He got amazingly jealous the night I went to meet XXXX with my sister!! And DocJ and I had not even been out yet! As if! Anyway, we were supposed to go out but he never called or returned my phone calls, so I just chalked it up to good karma getting him out of my life. He calls Friday night, I tell him I'm seeing XXXX now. OMG he gets all pissed, tells me he hasn't seen anyone and has been out of town this whole time, wants to know why I haven't called, yadda, yadda, yadda, I stopped listening - all I was hearing was white noise from then on... This guy can't be wrong - ever (much like Mr. Asshole above), so he's telling me he never got my messages (not that I really care). Whatever. He started trying to put me on the spot as to whether I would stop seeing XXXX (NOT happening) so I could date him (again, NOT happening), I didn't feel like arguing (or listening to him anymore) so I just told him that when he was back in town (he's out of town for the next few weeks) and when he has time, to call me and if I was free I'd see him (read: Not going to be free for him).

What is the deal? I can't believe that I'm so 'unforgettable' that men just can't let go of it about me - if that was true then Roller Coaster man wouldn't be such a thorn in my side. I'm not the only woman in the Metroplex, these men must just be incredibly dense. Aren't I lucky to have had them find me? What are these men thinking? And why? Did either of them REALLY think that acting possessive and jealous would do the trick? I mean I like an attentive man, but there is line between attentive guy and possessive jerk. These two just took the wrong path when it came to wooing me - they choose the psycho path (yeah I know, stupid joke, made me laugh though).

And people wonder why I date married men... This is why. If this is an example of available SINGLE men who are interested in me, well that's not very encouraging. Where are the SANE SINGLE men??? Eh, no worries. I'm seeing XXXX (I really need to get a better code name for him... Although XXXX seems kind of spy-ish and cool) and I'm really happy seeing him for right now (yes he is married), I like him a LOT. If the right man comes along, then we'll see what happens, but right now I'm not looking - two strikes are enough for me (three if you count Roller Coaster man, but he's not a psycho, just inattentive and disinterested).

Update: K just got home, he thought I should have sent Mr. Asshole an e-mail telling him that what an ass he is and that my fish have more personality than him and one of them is DEAD!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA! (one is dead - more on that later)

Arch Nemesis No Longer

I'm sure everyone has been waiting expectantly to hear about how the Brunch Of Doom (dramatic background music) went. Actually it went quite well. I got directions from her and headed out. That day was a rainy day, I drove K to work, we got caught behind a wreck for 20 minutes - making him 20 minutes late (he has the most anal boss), then after waiting for the 20 minutes the fire truck and police cars were already pulled away so we didn't even get to ogle any hot wet fire/police men. DAMN! Anyway, I was now running late so I ended up leaving at 9:30 am instead of at 9 am (I had said I would be there between 9:30 am and 10 am for brunch). So I put the little people in cute clothing... wait scratch that, I put Cabbage Patch in a cute outfit, Super Girl fought me to dress herself and ended up wearing some black velvet pants that were to small for her and a maroon shirt with another shirt over it. After 10 minutes of compelling (read: threatening) her to remove the over shirt she finally did and we left. So here I am with directions in hand and a quarter tank of gas. I figure I'll get gas on the way home since I only have 30 minutes to get there. I take the first turn, it says go to the end of the road until it dead ends then turn. So I drive, and I drive, and I drive, and I drive, and... you get the idea here right? It finally dead ends after 30 minutes of driving and guess what? It's not the right road! I turned the WRONG way onto the first road! Doh! That is sooooo like me! I always get turned around if the directions are not very explicit about exactly where to turn, etc. So I drive back... back... back... to a gas station. By now I'm 30 minutes late and my tank is very near empty. I call, explain that I'm a moron and turned the wrong way, she apologizes for giving bad directions and I explain that it's not her fault, I just get lost all the fucking time. She says she will make lunch instead of brunch and we say good bye. I head off - In the right direction this time - and we are there in 30 minutes.

The little people scamper off to play with her kids and we chat. While we are chatting Super Girl comes out of her daughters room in just her panties and some dress up clothes... Super Girl explains that they are playing dress up. I tell her to GET HER CLOTHES BACK ON! and she goes back to the room. A few minutes later Cabbage Patch comes out wearing nothing but dress up shoes! YIKES! Naked baby! I usher her back to the room and redress her and her sister. Sheesh! I was mortified.

She makes a delightful soup for us to have for lunch and PB&J sandwiches for the little people. I stay until about 1:30 pm just talking. A delightful time was had by all. I managed to get lost on the way home as well - hey I think someone changed the signs on me! I did manage to find a major road that I was familiar with and get home though. In conclusion, I can no longer refer to her as my Arch Nemesis, I supposed I could refer to her as my Former Arch Nemesis? Maybe?

Men Confuse Me

One acts disinterested, then calls and makes my knees weak.
One is absolutly wonderful - just needs to live closer.
One is overly anxious and pushing to hard.
One is from the past... can he not remember why it ended?
One is still pineing and can't let go.
One disapears weeks ago then calls tonight and is irritated to discover I went on (dating) without him. Sorry baby you missed the boat.

I need a manual for them.

Tired And Happy

So tired. Been busy - really busy, lately. I have a really nice guy in my life right now. ;o) More later...

Brunch Of Doom?

Tomorrow I will have brunch with someone from high school. Not just any high school friend, but my NEMISIS from high school! I hope this isn't some horrid trap to drag me to my ultimate humilation and demise at her hands! I think it isn't though, she did appoligize for being a totally BITCH in hs a while back. We will see... I'll let the little people eat first to make sure this isn't the BRUCH OF DOOM! ;o)

I'm Not Dead Yet!

hehehe... I love Monty Python. While watching The Holy Grail just now, as we got past the part where the man is saying "Bring out your dead! Bring out your dead!" Super Girl starts saying it. hehehehe... my kid.

Daddy Out Of The Hospital

I just got a call from my father. He's out of the hospital after having yet another heart attack. He spent a week in the hospital - I didn't find out untill Sunday via an e-mail from him. *sigh* It makes me very frustrated that my step mother treats me and my sister in such a disrespectful manner as to not call us!

Anyway, I'm glad he's home.

Common Name

I forgot to mention Heimdall's common name (since he's a common gold, but with fancy coloring he get's two names). He's Heimdall Chupacabra.

The Truth!

Hubby sent me this... if you are unsure of THE GAY AGENDA click, you will be enlightened. ;o)

Happy Fat Tuesday!

At the request (begging actually) of hubby I'll be making a king cake and Jambalya for dinner. He'd really prefer gumbo but I like jambalya better.

Doesn't tomorrow start the whole Lenten season? I think so. He was talking about what he would give up for Lent. He always gives up the same thing - Cokes and candy. I told him I was glad I don't have to give anything up for 40 days - then he brought up the whole giving up leavening for Passover... Yeah he's right, but it's not for 40 days! heh.

Stolen from A's page

Which Unwanted
Sexual Gesture Are You?

Made by the fine folks at
daylighttwilight.com

heh...

It's Raining, It's Pouring

Mid-day rains make me want to stay in bed and sleep. Unfortunately for me it does not make 5 year olds or 2 year olds do that. *sigh*

This is a depressing rain, it's been gray all day and it's a little on the cool side. Weather like this makes me all introspective. I wonder why I care so much about people who can't return phone calls, why I care so much about someone who clearly can't or won't appreciate what a great person I am, why do I let this bother me, why am I not more appreciative of those who do appreciate me, why did I not get a phone call when someone went into the hospital, do all mother's feel like an utter failure from time to time, is the creek going to flood with all this rain, is it time to plant my seeds yet.... Introspective not productive... I wish the rain would stop.

HAH! This made me laugh! Especially the part about promiscuity and cooking.

You're Thailand!

Calmer and more staunchly independent than almost all those around you,
you have a long history of rising above adversity.  Recent adversity has led to questions
about your sexual promiscuity and the threat of disease, but you still manage to attract a
number of tourists and admirers.  And despite any setbacks, you can really cook a good
meal whenever it's called for.  Good enough to make people cry.
face="Times New Roman">Take the Country
Quiz at the Blue Pyramid

Fish Memorial

The candle light vigil for Ran was lovely albeit 'light' less... kind of hard to light candles in water. The very next night we had a memorial for Ran as I finally convinced them that after so many days out of the tank she'd definitly be dead. Being goldfish - which have notoriously short memories, most had already forgotten that there ever was another fish in the tank. Yes made for an interesting memorial - 'We are gathered here to remember fondly Ran.' 'Ran? Ran who?' 'Ran? We don't run, we swim?' 'Are we being fed?' 'Bubbles! Wheee! Bubbles!' Real sentimental.

Anyway, to fill the void in my... er... tank... I purchased two new fish. One is a black Moor and the other is a white common with cool orange spots around his eyes.

After much searching through the Norse mythology I have named the white one:
Heimdall

Pronunciation:
haym'-dahl

Heimdall is the god of light, the son of nine mothers (variously given as the daughters of Geirrendour the Giant or of Aegir). He was born at the end of the world and raised by the force of the earth, seawater and the blood of a boar. Because of his shining, golden teeth he is also called Gullintani ("gold tooth"). His hall is Himinbjorg, The Cliffs of Heaven, and his horse is Gulltop. Heimdall carries the horn Gjallar.

He is the watchman of the gods and guards Bifrost, the only entrance to Asgard, the realm of the gods. It is Heimdall's duty to prevent the giants from forcing their way into Asgard. He requires less sleep than a bird and can see a hundred miles around him, by night as well as by day. His hearing is so accurate that no sound escapes him: he can even hear the grass grow or the wool on a sheep's back. At the final conflict of Ragnarok he will kill his age-old enemy, the evil god Loki, but will die himself from his wounds.

As the god Rig ("ruler"), Heimdall created the three races of mankind: the serfs, the peasants, and the warriors. It is interesting to note why Heimdall fathered them, and not Odin as might be expected. Furthermore, Heimdall is in many attributes identical with Tyr.

And the black one:

Nott

In Norse myth, Nott is the personification of night, and the daughter of Narvi. Nott was married three times and with each husband she had one child. Her first husband was Naglfari, and their son was Aud. Her second husband was Annar, father of Earth. Her third husband was Delling, the personification of twilight, father of Dagur (Day). She and her son were given horse-drawn chariots by the gods and were placed in the sky to round the world every two half-days. Notts chariot is pulled by the horse Hrimfaxi ("frost-maned") which covers the earth with dew early in the morning.

Book Quiz

How odd...

You're Alice's Adventures in Wonderland!

by Lewis Carroll

After stumbling down the wrong turn in life, you've had your mind
opened to a number of strange and curious things. As life grows curiouser and curiouser,
you have to ask yourself what's real and what's the picture of illusion. Little is coming
to your aid in discerning fantasy from fact, but the line between them is so blurry that
it's starting not to matter. Be careful around rabbit holes and those who smile to much,
and just avoid hat shops altogether.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

I've never read the book completly... maybe I will have to do that.. right after the Mad Hatters Tea party.

Candle Light Vigil To Be Held

The fish in the aquarium have organized a candle light vigil for the missing fish, Ran. They want me to invite all of you to light a candle for Ran tonight at 6 pm central time.

The investigation into her disappearance continues although there are very few leads. All of the fish in the tank have been questioned - all they can remember is that it was dark and then when it was light she was gone. Not much help. I've questioned two suspects that occasionally loiter near the tank but they are tight lipped about saying anything and continue to proclaim their innocents. Cats are like that though. As we go into the 4th day of Ran's disappearance there is little hope of finding her alive (actually no hope what so ever - that whole not being able to breath air sucks for her). It may take much therapy to for the fish to accept that she is gone. Right now the mood in the tank is dark yet hopeful. The tank wide searches continue even now.

Three Kids And An Easy Bake Oven



This is what my morning is consisting of. Totally fun!

Yesterday I broke out the Easy Bake Oven for Super Girl. I looked up recipes on the internet and we made a quesadilla for my sister and two tiny chocolate cakes. Much to my surprise the cakes tasted rather good.

Last night Hubby's brother called asking if I would mind watching their son for the morning. I never mind that a bit. He's a doll and the little people LOVE him so much.

So the agenda was to let them play for a while and when they got really restless to break out the Easy Bake recipes. Total success. We just finished with our Easy Bake snacks (melted cheese and beef sandwiches cut to fit Easy Bake pans) and we are currently waiting for the cakes to finish baking so they can frost them. The little people plus one just headed up the stairs to play during the down time. They'll be back when it's time to frost the cakes.

Damn I love that Easy Bake Oven.

Absence Will Make The Heart Grow Fonder

Or you'll just fucking forget about that person...

Anyway, I'm going to be super busy working on costume things for my sister's Scarby stuff. If I don't update daily, don't loose heart - I will be back!

I'll post photos of the fabulous costumes when I'm done.

Hot Pussy

My idiot cat is in heat. Hubby just said "Uh-oh, your cat's in heat again." To which Super Girl looks at the cat who is rolling around on the floor and while pretending to be the cat says in a very breathy way "I'm so hot. I'm a kitten." Hubby and I just about fell on the floor laughing.

Ghost Fish

It seems to be the time of the year for me to have issues with my beloved pets (even stuffed ones like Dairy). Today I realized that my white goldfish is missing! Fucking vanished! I'm not sure when it happened but I think it coinsided with the other night that I got up at 3 am to the little people messing with my aquarium - all of the plastic plants were up rooted, the cave was over turned and Super Girl had a cup on the aquarium. Since it was so early in the morning, I didn't check the tank, just scolded children and sent them back to bed. Yesterday I didn't even think to check and today I was doing my usual fish count when I realized that Ran (the white fish) was gone. I don't know where she could be. She left no note, hasn't called and cussed me out for being a bad owner, hell we hadn't even argued! Why would she leave??? Seriously.. I'm baffled as to where she is. I would expect to be smelling dead fish if it were on the floor (or worse in my couch!). I'm hoping that if she did end up being flung from the aquarium by a little person that she was gobbled up by my cat - purely because I just don't want to find rotting dead fish on my carpet. ewww...

Damn... I need a new fish! And of course it couldn't be one of my $.28 common goldfish, it had to be my $5 white oranda! Damn!

Snow Much Fun

Although I hate snow, I did venture out to make a snow girl.

Dirty desperado Brought To Justice!
Daring Rescue of Dairy!

I received numerous (2) helpful e-mail offering support in the finding of Dairy, my beloved cow. One read Check the local dump yards (trash cans or laundry baskets). and the other read Der shurifff,
I jes bet chew all kud fin them katle if you offered a big reeeeward....Like ice cream...cookies......
Hope yu kech them thar desparedos..
Waiting with baited {coffee} bref heh, who says old people have no sense of humor?

Anyway, I did in fact check the local dump yards to no avail. Several sessions of questioning were completely unsuccessful in determining the whereabouts of Dairy. Negotiations broke down shortly after lunch time and the suspects were taken to holding cells (well it was nap time, they were taken to their beds). I made a desperate and daring search and rescue mission into 'No Man's Land' (the little people's room) and discovered Dairy, scared but otherwise unharmed.

Dairy is now safely back with her herd. The Cattle Rustlers continue to maintain their innocents despite the overwhelming evidence against them.


Dairy, safe at last.

Valentine's Day Tidbits

15% of U.S. women send themselves flowers on Valentine's Day.

73% of people who buy flowers for Valentine's Day are men, while only 27 percent are women.

About 1 billion Valentine's Day cards are exchanged each year. That's the largest seasonal card-sending occasion of the year, next to Christmas.

About 3% of pet owners will give Valentine's Day gifts to their pets.

Alexander Graham Bell applied for his patent on the telephone, an "Improvement in Telegraphy", on Valentine's Day, 1876.

California produces 60 percent of American roses, but the vast number sold on Valentine's Day in the United States are imported, mostly from South America. Approximately 110 million roses, the majority red, will be sold and delivered within a three-day time period.

Cupid, another symbol of Valentines Day, became associated with it because he was the son of Venus, the Roman god of love and beauty. Cupid often appears on Valentine cards holding a bow and arrows because he is believed to use magical arrows to inspire feelings of love.

During the late 1800s, postage rates around the world dropped, and the obscene St. Valentine's Day card became popular, despite the Victorian era being otherwise very prudish. As the numbers of racy valentines grew, several countries banned the practice of exchanging Valentine's Days cards. During this period, Chicago's post office rejected more than 25,000 cards on the grounds that they were so indecent, they were not fit to be carried through the U.S. mail.

During the Middle Ages, the belief that birds chose their mates on St. Valentine's Day led to the idea that boys and girls would do the same. Up through the early 1900s, the Ozark hill people in the eastern United States thought that birds and rabbits started mating on February 14, a day for them which was not only Valentine's Day but Groundhog Day as well.

February 14, 270 A.D. : Roman Emperor Claudius II, dubbed "Claudius the Cruel," beheaded a priest named Valentine for performing marriage ceremonies. Claudius II had outlawed marriages when Roman men began refusing to go to war in order to stay with their wives.

Hallmark has over 1330 different cards specifically for Valentine's Day.

Humorous valentines of the 19th century were called "Vinegar Valentines" or "Penny Dreadfuls." Vinegar Valentines were introduced in 1858 by John McLaughin, a Scotsman with a New York City Publishing Business. Penny Dreadfuls with comic designs drawn in 1870 by American cartoonists Charles Howard became known as Penny Dreadfuls.

In 1929 in Chicago, gunmen in the suspected employment of organized-crime boss Al Capone murder seven members of the George "Bugs" Moran North Siders gang in a garage on North Clark Street. The so-called St. Valentine's Day Massacre stirred a media storm centered on Capone and his illegal Prohibition-era activities and motivated federal authorities to redouble their efforts to find evidence incriminating enough to take him off the streets.

In the Middle Ages, young men and women drew names from a bowl to see who their valentines would be. They would wear these names on their sleeves for one week. To wear your heart on your sleeve now means that it is easy for other people to know how you are feeling.

In the United States, 64 percent of men do not make plans in advance for a romantic Valentine's Day with their sweethearts.

In Victorian times it was considered bad luck to sign a Valentine's Day card.

In Wales, wooden love spoons were carved and given as gifts on February 14th. Hearts, keys and keyholes were favorite decorations on the spoons. The decoration meant, "You unlock my heart!"

It wasn't until 1537 that St. Valentine's Day was declared an official holiday. England's King Henry VIII declared February 14th a holiday.

On February 14, 1779, Captain James Cook, the great English explorer and navigator, was murdered by natives of Hawaii during his third visit to the Pacific island group.

One single perfect red rose framed with baby's breath is referred to by some florists as a "signature rose," and is the preferred choice for many for giving on Valentine's Day, anniversary, or birthday.

Only the U.S., Canada, Mexico, France, Australia and the U.K. celebrate Valentine's Day.

Sir Alexander Fleming was a young bacteriologist when an accidental discovery led to one of the great developments of modern medicine. Having left a plate of staphylococcus bacteria uncovered, Fleming noticed that a mold that had fallen on the culture had killed many of the bacteria. He identified the mold as penicillium notatum, similar to the kind found on bread. On February 14, 1929, Fleming introduced his mold by-product called penicillin to cure bacterial infections.

Some people used to believe that if a woman saw a robin flying overhead on Valentine's Day, it meant she would marry a sailor. If she saw a sparrow, she would marry a poor man and be very happy. If she saw a goldfinch, she would marry a millionaire.

Teachers will receive the most Valentine's Day cards, followed by children, mothers, wives, and then, sweethearts. Children ages 6 to 10 exchange more than 650 million Valentine's cards with teachers, classmates, and family members.

The "I Love You" computer virus was detected in Hong Kong on May 1, 2000. In four days the virus had mutated into three different generations. Figures by Trend Micro Inc. showed that "I Love You" had infected 3.1 million computers worldwide.

The 17th century a hopeful maiden ate a hard-boiled egg and pinned five bay leaves to her pillow before going to sleep on Valentine's eve. It was believed this would make her dream of her future husband.

The ancient Romans celebrated the Feast of Lupercalia in honor of Juno, the queen of the Roman gods and goddesses on February 14. Juno was also the goddess of women and marriage.

The Empire State Building in New York City played a prominent role in the movie Sleepless in Seattle. This year 15 couples will take (or renew) their vows on the 80th floor of this famous landmark.

The first American publisher of valentines was printer and artist Esther Howland. During the 1870s, her elaborate lace cards were purchased by the wealthy, as they cost a minimum of 5 dollars - some sold for as much as 35 dollars. Mass production eventually brought prices down, and the affordable "penny valentine" became popular with the lower classes.

The first photograph of a U.S. President was taken on February 14, 1849 by Matthew Brady in New York City. President James Polk was the subject of the famous picture. .

The first televised tour of the White House aired on February 14 in 1962. First Lady Jackie Kennedy hosted the tour.

The Italian city of Verona, where Shakespeare's lovers Romeo and Juliet lived, receives about 1,000 letters addressed to Juliet every Valentine's Day.

The Kama Sutra is believed to be the oldest sex manual in existence. Generally considered the standard work on love in Sanskrit literature, the book is thought to have been written around 300 A.D.

The most fantastic gift of love is the Taj Mahal in India. It was built by Mughal Emperor Shahjahan as a memorial to his wife, who died in childbirth. Work on the Taj began in 1634 and continued for almost 22 years. required the labor of 20,000 workers from all over India and Central Asia.

The oldest known Valentines were sent in 1415 A.D. by the Duke of Orleans to his French wife while he was imprisoned in the Tower of London. It is still on display in a museum in England.

The oldest surviving love poem is written in a clay tablet from the times of the Sumerians, inventors of writing, around 3500 B.C. It was unromantically named Istanbul #2461 by the archeologists who unearthed it.

The red rose was the favorite flower of Venus, the Roman goddess of love. Red stands for strong feelings which is why a red rose is a flower of love.

Valentine's Day is big business. Consumers will spend an average of $77.43 on Valentine's Day gifts this year. E-commerce retailers expect to rack up about $650 million in sales of food, candy, flowers, and other Valentine's Day gifts. Of that amount about $350 million will be for gifts and flowers and another $45 million will be spent on food (including chocolate) and wine.

Wearing a wedding ring on the fourth finger of the left hand dates back to ancient Egypt, where it was believed that the vein of love ran from this finger directly to the heart.

In England, the Romans, who had taken over the country, had introduced a pagan fertility festival held every February 14. After the Romans left England, nearly a century later, the pagan ritual was abolished by Pope Gelsius who established St. Valentine's Day as a celebration of love in 496 A.D.

In America, the pilgrims sent confections, such as sugar wafers, marzipan, sweetmeats and sugar plums, to their betrothed. Great value was placed on these gifts because they included what was then a rare commodity, sugar. After the late 1800's, beet sugar became widely used and more available, and sweet gifts continued to be valued and enjoyed.

Chocolate manufacturers currently use 40 percent of the world's almonds and 20 percent of the world's peanuts.

What The Hell Is This?



I need the help of my northern readers. The above picture is what I discovered outside my door this morning. I'd like anyone who can identify this to please let me know what this is and what we are supposed to do with it. Also if anyone knows who I might contact to have it removed, that would also be helpful as it is cold and wet and keeping me from heading into work. Currently there is a couple of inches of this atrocity covering the area, so I would appreciate an immediate response, I don't believe this belongs in Dallas.

Thank you,
Judy

A Little Something To Make Your Skin Crawl

Read this.

Ewwwww....

Mini Cattle Rustlers On the Loose



It has come to my attention that a certain very valuable heifer from my herd has been rustled (is that a word?). I have the suspected cattle thieves in hand but they refused to divulge the whereabouts of Dairy. Attached are photos of Dairy's twin, Soy Milk. Dairy is a small squishy black and white - suspected Holstein but not for sure, can't remember if she still has an ear tag, probably not, she's about 9 years old and a bit faded on her ribbon.

The local sheriff (me) has the rustlers (my tiny terrorists) on a monitored and forced search of the grasslands (living room) and plains (their bedroom). The negotiations are not going well as the rustlers are insistent that they didn't take the cow and that they can't remember where the cow is. The stories keep changing just like the winds. Not to worry, the local sheriff will get her cow and the rustlers will be brought to justice (forced to clean the living room). Back to the search and rescue mission for now.

I hope the attached photos will help you identify Dairy if you happen to see her. Please return her to the local sheriff (me).

More WalMart Experience

The other night I went to WalMart with D. We pulled into the parking lot and turned to park on the side lot. A person in an SUV was in front of me when I turned, he was waiting for someone to pull out. I waited for a few minutes, then the SUV apparently got tired of waiting and pulled forward about 3 car lengths and I started to pull forward, all of a sudden the guy in the SUV starts pulling back fast! I step on the brake and watch until this guy is about a car length ahead of me and I start beeping my horn. He stops (but not right away) and after 30 or so seconds he starts backing up quickly again! I hit the horn again - this time I'm just holding down the horn as I'm sure this stupid mutha-fucka driving must have forgoten someone was behind him and I didn't want to get hit. He stops about half a foot from my car and turns on his blinker! He then zips into the parking space he has been so jealously guarding. I'm pissed now. I get all crazy when people come close to hitting my car. I pull behind where this ass parked and start rolling down my window - D starts saying something about bad karma and I shouldn't - which makes me hesitate... for a few seconds. They get out of their car and I start rolling the window down again, D is trying to talk sense to me now and she's almost got it when the man get's out and starts getting smart with me. I park and get out as D is still trying to get her seat belt off. I'm there asking this idiot what the fuck is wrong with him? Why he came so fucking close to hitting my car? He's telling me to fuck off. The really beauty of this is that his wife is VERY pregnant and he's holding a toddler maybe a 16 months old in his arms. So he's driving like a maniac and he's got a pregnant wife and baby in the car. WTF? He starts telling me it doesn't fucking matter because he didn't fucking hit my car and I say yes it fucking does because he was driving like a fucking idiot in the fucking WalMart parking lot and asked if he was fucking stupid. His wife (also a fucking moron just by virtue of being married to his man) says "We are better than that" as in, not going to stoop to my level of obsenity (I guess she has hearing problems as well as being stupid because her idiot husband was already at my level of obsenity). I say "No your fucking not. Stupid mutha-fucka driving like that in a parking lot." D makes a comment that pissed dumb wife off, stupid ass acts like he's going to hit me - and he's saying this WHILE he has his TODDLER in his arms! I tell him to bring it on, he doesn't and we went in to the store.

What a fucking moron. Stupid people should NOT breed.

Just Because Valentine's Day Happens
Evil Love Poems

Love may be beautiful, love may be bliss.
But I only slept with you, because I was pissed.


I thought that I could love no other.
Until, that is, I met your brother.


Roses are red, violets are blue,
Sugar is sweet and so are you.
But the roses are wilting, the violets are dead,
the sugar bowl's empty and so is your head.


Of loving beauty you float with grace.
If only you could hide your face.


Kind, intelligent, loving and hot.
This describes everything you are not.


I want to feel your sweet embrace.
But don't take that paper bag off of your face.


I love your smile, your face, and your eyes.
Damn, I'm good at telling lies!


My darling, my lover, my beautiful wife:
Marrying you screwed up my life.


I see your face when I am dreaming.
That's why I always wake up screaming.


My love, you take my breath away.
What have you stepped in to smell this way?


My feelings for you no words can tell.
Except for maybe "go to hell".


What inspired this amorous rhyme?
Two parts vodka, one part lime.

My Map



create your own visited states map
or write about it on the open travel guide

Hmmm... I haven't been to many places. I need to travel more.

Brain Pain

Ugh. I hate this overcast weather. I have a crappy sinus headache. The little people are BOTH sick. Nasty colds. Ick. I have a date tonight. I need this headache to go.

Men

Sheesh... the man score card is ever changing.

Mark off Dr. J - he's an ass, just been kicked to the curb.
Mr. Body is moving up in the ranks - he's planning a trip to see me
Roller Coaster man is still on the card - top position
Add in Long Haired man - he'll never be in the relationship area, but he's a lot of fun
Scotsman and Navy man are both still there also - same place
An Old Flame keeps popping up every time I think the fire is out...
eh that's it, the other men aren't worth mentioning yet.
The guy I'm going out with tonight will get a nickname soon I'm sure.

Growing Up

Super Girl - who turns 5 this Friday - lost her first tooth this morning. And she promptly lost it in her messy messy room. *sigh.*

I can't believe she's already 5.

A Fate Worse Than Death

As if you don't end up wasting enough time in WalMart, they had to make the Super WalMart so you can waste even MORE time. I hate shopping at the Super WalMart and for some unknown reason I was struck with insanity and offered to pick up some things on my way home. What the hell was I thinking? I mean I'm always tired after rushing around the hospital all day, why did I offer to go to WalMart and Super WalMart at that.

Well I did think that going to the Super WalMart would save me time - hahahahahahahahaha. I wandered around in circles looking for things before finally asking someone who worked there where several items were - I wrote down where each thing was so I could find it. It was sad. I just could not find shit in that store it is so fucking big. I ended up needing one other thing in the store after I had gotten the other things, another 30 minutes of looking and I had to ask someone - the SAME freaking person! I think he was the only person working in the store, either that or his twin brother works there also. I needed to get some more thigh high stockings (I've been dating a lot lately, I need some new sexy things for dates) but by this time the Super WalMart had sucked the will to live from me and I just wanted to get out of there.

Then it was time to go stand in line, yay. They have the new self check lines in this Super WalMart. This is an ok idea, except the people in front of me were to fucking stupid to be checking their own groceries. Both had to have a manager person help them - the woman right in front of me kept putting things directly in her basket instead of in the bag which is on a platform that weighs everything so it was giving her errors. Somehow I managed to get my stuff scanned and paid for with out the help of a manager. I think they should have a sign in front of the line saying You Must Be This Smart To Use This... Some people are just to stupid even for WalMart.

Daddy Daughter Dance

Tonight is the first Daddy Daughter dance for hubby and Super Girl. She's so excited and nervous. Hubby is also. It's incredibly cute. I can't wait to get her all dressed up and ready to go.

Out And About

D and I went out with one of her friends last night. Wanna see the pics? Look below. I was having such a great cleavage night!



Yes, yes, the guy was removed from the picture, but hey, this blog is all about me isn't it? ;o) I looked good.

New Art




I had a bit of trouble getting the details of the picture so there are two pictures of the fairy.

I'm quite proud of it, I hope my friend enjoyes the card.

Younger But Wiser

Recently I was at Broad At Bat's blog where I found the link to this person's blog. I read in amazement at how very eloquent this 15 year old writes. Yes 15, and not a hint of bad grammar, intentionally misspelled words or age appropriate (for a 15 year old) slang. Then I remembered this blog. This is utter crap. This blog is written by a 19 year old who supposedly is well educated and I know has a very good job. Well educated, good job, barely literate. All of his entries are peppered with slang, misspellings, horrid grammar and obscenities (which I can't really bitch about since I tend to us a LOT of obscenities). He frequently writes about his sexual 'exploits' as though his casual sex somehow makes him more mature and 'adult'. The only reason I check that blog is to hear of news about S, otherwise I'd never bother to click his like a second time. The 15 year old, well I think I may have to add him to my list of frequent reads. 15 *sigh* - there is hope for this world.

Ten for Ten

I don't usually do these - I usually find them rather stupid and sheepish to do, but I'm just filling some stuff in because I haven't had much time to write today.... And this kind of caught my eye.

Ten Things You Wish You Knew How to Do
1. Ride a bike
2. Speak Spanish
3. Read and speak Hebrew (I'm working on that one)
4. To paint like the masters (Angelo, Rubens, Picasso, etc.)
5. Plant a garden that will flourish and thrive
6. Country western dance
7. Read minds
8. See through things (pants would be first on my list hehehehehe...)
9. Make love for hours and hours (like Sting says he can) without getting tired, bored or sore (maybe I should try to get lessons from Sting)
10. Higher mathematics... Don't even try to explain... I've had several tutors try to get me past Trig... Just never works.

New Titles For The Little People

Last week was a trying week with the little people. All kids are evil from time to time - my kids time was last week. So from now on when they are particular EEEEEEVIL I will refer to them as The Tiny Terrorists and Chaos and Destruction instead of The Little People, Super Girl and Cabbage Patch. Today there is no terrorist activities or demands so it's a good day. ;o) The war on terrorism starts a home - my home!

Chuckie's Looking Rough

Poor Chuckie. She's looking rode hard and put up wet. For those who are not familiar with Chuckie, she is the most beloved and most creepy doll of the little people. Both love her unconditionally and without bounds. She and Jaded Jenny are most valuable dolls in their toy boxes. The only two dolls with names and the two dolls that would cause the little people to turn against me and make voodoo dolls of me. Jenny has been loved a lot and is now missing certain items of her couture - her nose ring and chain were lost long ago, her black boots with the cool flames are in the toy box somewhere and their 'leather' studded wrist bands are threatening to join the boots. Chuckie on the other hand has always been a creepy looking doll and when it worked it was just frightening (to adults who were familiar with Child's Play, that awful horror movie - hence the name of Chuckie being given to the doll by us adults), now that she is a few years old she looks down right horrible. Her hair is in a permanent blond Don King doo, she has chunks out of both of her ears (some one was going through a phase of biting things), her body is spotted and the back where her batteries go (which will NEVER happen again) is usually open like an unfinished autopsy, one of her eyes is minus all the eye lashes and is permanently half open (or closed, whatever) and now, now her face is marred with black smears from the phone book (which I have no idea how the phone book came in contact with this doll as I NEVER use the darn things and keep them in a cabinet). I've tried to clean the marks off her to no avail. I briefly considered tossing the doll in the trash, but reconsidered when I remembered the heart wrenching sobs of Super Girl when I told her that mommy had to take Chuckie for a 14 day quarantine (which just ended). So I now have a pasty concoction on Chuckies face and legs in hopes of removing the offending black stains, Chuckies body has been painted with laundry soap, hopefully after a trip through the delicate cycle of the washer, she will be at least clean (still creepy) and less unhygenic. I'll post photos of Chuckie later - hopefully a CLEAN Chuckie.

Men.... Sheesh....

For all those keeping track of my men, well time to change the score card... Cross off horse man & old flame - they are out now. Scotsman is still there, but he's in a holding pattern as is Navy man. Roller Coaster man is still in the race - leading the race actually, but he just doesn't seem to freaking care! And there are NEW men. Dr. J is in now, I've been keeping him in a holding pattern for a couple of weeks and was begging for a date this weekend - I didn't realize his schedule was so tight or I would have had him take me out Friday or Saturday, right now he's on a place to Indiana for work for the rest of the week, he'll be back on Friday, yadda, yadda, yadda, - one of his last statements to me was "Now don't go finding someone else to see while I'm gone." Eh, too late. And there's Mr. Body (and he's got a fabulous body) who wants to buy me a plane ticket to accompany him on a trip soon - he's crazy about me, crazy, crazy, totally insane - it's the hair I tell you. Can't forget Lone Wolf and Lucky (he's Irish). Still in the interview process with most of them (Mr. Body might get the fast track interview. heh.)

With all these men I still act all desperate and stupid for Roller Coaster man, who of course doesn't seem to be impressed by any of my efforts. Sheesh, love sucks.

Coon Ass

I can't believe I forgot to mention this. Last week when I got home from seeing my Sancho I saw a big fat raccoon by the dumpster. He barely gave me a look as I hurried past him. I'm fascinated with the raccoons - fascinated but still a little leery after the whole rabid-coon-dieing-on-my-porch incident, so I try to get pictures of them but try to keep a 'safe' distance. I rushed in the door and grabbed my camera then headed outside. Coon was still munching on garbage when I got back and I snapped a picture of him from about 15 or 20 feet away. He wasn't too impressed with the flash and decided to leave on the other side of the wall - which incidentally had better lighting than the side I was standing on, so brilliant me, I decided to head the coon off at the pass and I raced to the end of the wall and across to intercept the raccoon. When I got there I looked for the coon but didn't see him anywhere, I was just starting to think that he was either much faster than me or he jumped over the wall before I got there - then I looked down by the bushes right in front of me and guess who was staring up at me from under the bushes? The damn coon! He was maybe 2 feet from my feet! I let out a little surprised noise and backed up really quick, but fuck if I didn't already scare the raccoon who had now turned around and was running back the way he came. Shit. I if I had just snapped that picture when I saw him instead of worrying about my well being and getting rabies if he decided to rush me, I would have had the perfect raccoon picture. Damn. So this is all I got... coon ass.