Illustration Friday:Bubble




I did two for today, unfortunately the quality of photo does not do either justice.

One is of a fish, because I used to have a fish named Bubbles and I always think of goldfish blowing bubbles (Thor used to do that). The other is of a thought bubble - because I do that a lot (day dream about XXX). ;o) it's rough, but I like it.

Downsizing

I'm pleased to say that I've been downsized. Not laid off but I'm in a smaller size pant! Woohoo!

Yesterday on a whim I tried on a jacket I haven't been able to squeeze into comfortably in years and it fit! It fit well even, no buttons straining or anything. This morning being in a hurry to get dressed I grabbed some pants that I've had forever and slipped them on - just slipped them on. They are a size smaller than what I've been wearing. I'm so happy, I have a closet full of clothes that I haven't been able to fit into in a while. The only bad thing is that this is all clothes from when I was working a corporate 8-5 job. My current employment is much much more casual. I feel like a major dork wearing silk pants to clean house in. Ah well if I ever have an occasion to go to go somewhere nice I'll have something to wear.

WalMart = One of The Levels Of HELL!

We headed off to Wally World tonight in search of the items we should have bought last night but didn’t because I just could not fucking remember and K was utterly unmotivated. One of the items on the list was fabric, as in fabric that will match the cool fake tiger fur I made Super Girl’s amazingly fabulous coat out of. Cabbage Patch was in love with it and wanted a coat to match her sisters. We head for the fabric section and I select a white leopard print as they did not have a white tiger print (I thought it would be cute to have them in tiger print and white tiger print). All I need is one yard of fabric. I take the bolt to the counter and wait. There is no store employee around. This is actually pretty common; generally if you stand around impatiently some older woman in a horrid blue smock will appear out of nowhere and will stoically ask if you need help. So I do that. Stand around and look for signs of employees. Meanwhile the Little People have changed to their alter egos of Chaos and Destruction and are trying their damnedest to live up to their names – luckily upon entering Wally World I instantly recalled that some alien cosmic force eminates from Wally World (and only Wally World) that fucks with the brain waves of normal mild mannered children (of which my offspring are not, but they are still affected) and causes them to become foul little demons complete with heads that revolve and pea soup spewing mouths and worst of all the ability to WHINE at a level that can annoy EVERYONE within hearing distance of their shrill, piercing voices. K decides to push the cart around while I wait for a helpful employee to appear – this is generally a smart and safe idea as it’s harder for the Tiny Terrorists to get to a moving target and decreases the collateral damage inflicted by them. After nearly 10 minutes the helpful employee appears. She is neither stoic nor elderly and I’m instantly suspicious. In my experience the only helpful employees in a sewing area of Wally World are stoic and elderly. Her name tag said Jenny and she appeared to be maybe 20, tall and anorexic – and way to chipper for a Wally World employee. I quickly discovered her chipperness was probably the only thing that kept people from killing her after 5 minutes of conversation, she was dingy. As she came from where the patterns are, followed by a customer she announced that she was sorry, but she had been looking for a pattern *smile*. I nodded and waited. She and customer got into a discussion on how much fabric was needed for the garment that customer’s son would be making for some kind of school assignment. This involved much yelling back and forth between the customer and her son (he was wander around the section) and some debate between Jenny and the customer. I quickly realized that neither the customer nor Jenny had a fucking clue about sewing. While it was being debated as to how much fabric would be needed, Jenny casually mentioned that I knew exactly what I wanted and gave me brief but false hope that she would tell customer to hold on one moment while she cut my fabric for me, but it was not to be! I guess I had some minor bad karma to burn off this evening. Customer and Jenny came to a decision on how much fabric son would need and Jenny laid it out to cut it. Then the word *NOTIONS came up. Blank stares from customer and son, foggy look from Jenny – she had the concept but not a clue what was needed for this pattern even though it’s written on the back of the freaking pattern. *sigh* My patience was wearing thin, I had offered a few words of help during this time but I realized that if I EVER FUCKING WANTED MY LIFE BACK, I would need to assist these clueless people. I take the pattern and say “You need thread and Velcro. I’m sure you need elastic also.” Then ensues the conversation of why Velcro. Uggh! Fuck I don’t know, it just fucking says so on the package! That’s what I thought, I did not say though. I looked at the instruction sheet and could not find an answer, I gave her my best guess and told her to buy it. She asked if I was sure 5 or so times. I started telling her son to go find things so this painful experience could END. Customer and son got into a debate on just about EVERY FUCKING THING! But finally things were cut. They finally left, but not before the ever so chipper Jenny asked what I would be making with the furry fabric and I told her a coat for Cabbage Patch. You would have thought I had just freaking pulled a diamond out of my ass. Customer was so almighty impressed that she launched into a monologue of how she wished that she had learned to sew when she was in school, yadda, yadda, yadda. Customer almost wet her pants when I said I had made the coat last night. Jenny casually quipped “Oh yeah, she sews all the time.” I smiled at her thinking “Oh… so now you know what I do? You’re a mind reader? No, no, you’re just utterly and completly insane, the smile should have tipped it off for me.” I didn’t say anything, I just wanted her to finish cutting my fabric and for customer to stop fawning over me, thanking me for my assistance and just go away before she asked for my number incase she had questions later. *sigh* 30 minutes after I entered the fabric area, I was released from my prison and free to finish my shopping experience with K and the Tiny Terrorists.

Wearing The Wrong Size

Just read this. I have immages of drug stores with size charts like they have at shoe stores. heh.

Disjointed Notes

Stuff I Don't Need
Cape Cod Dark Russet potato chips are the best damn potato chips on the planet (I'm dyeing to try the Salt and Vinegar ones!).

I Rock
Super Girl loved her coat. She was extremely impressed with the lining I used (a fuzzy black fabric). She showed her sister the coat like one of the girls off Price Is Right. It was amuseing.

Inapropriate Laughter
Cabbage Patch loves to watch the Bear In The Big Blue House potty training video despite now being potty trained. At the beginning of all BITBBH episodes he starts sniffing and says 'What's that smell?' Leila sees Bear and thinks its Pooh Bear and starts yelling 'Pooh!' which never fails to make me laugh, "What's that smell?" "Pooh! Pooh!" heh and it is a potty training video. Yeah I know, I just lost my nomination for Mother Of The Year - and I didn't even go into details of how I laughed yesterday when she fell down and wet her pants.

Blast From The Past
I'm glad everyone has been so amused by my first ID photo. I've had several amusing comments about the gargantuan glasses I was wearing (hey, I thought they looked COOL back then!), the braids in my hair (I'm not even going to justify that fashion mistake) and that sweater (which I happen to STILL have). I'll have to dig around for some more photos from my High School Fashion Victim Days (it was the 80's I think every one was a Fashion Victim that decade), I know everyone will enjoy that.

Well I best go do some house cleaning and wash some clothes (so I'm not forced to wear that sweater!).

Pantry

Last night we should have gone to the store. Someone should have gone to the store. I knew we were out of jelly and we needed light bulbs but I could not remember what else we needed. What else. We always need something else and I for the life of me could not remember what it was, although I KNEW it had to be important.

I implored K to go to the store. Well actually I suggested he go to the store when he went routing around the pantry for light bulbs and I informed him that I had single handedly replaced the living room light bulb the day before so we are now light bulbless. I said I knew we needed something else, bread maybe. He stared at me blankly. I said "Someone should go to the store, I know we need light bulbs, maybe bread and something else..." He started walking up the stairs as I repeated my conculsion that SOMEONE should go to the store (and it certainly could NOT be me as I was already in my jammies). I said something to the effect of it being obvious he wasn't going to go to the store as he was walking up the stairs and got a flat "shut the fuck up" look from him. Hmmmpf.

This morning Super Girl decended the stairs and as usual requested breakfast, her usual cereal. That is when I remembered "Oh yeah! We are out of cereal!" I asked her if she wanted oatmeal which she quickly refused with a twisted up face (BRAT). Cabbage Patch requested toast and was refused as there was only two pieces left to make lunch for Super Girl. The sulking and whining started. (not me, the kids) *sigh* Super Girl got some yogurt from the fridge, took two bites and declared it 'yucky' Cabbage Patch declined the offer of yogurt so I was left scrounging the pantry for breakfast for them. Vanilla waffers and milk. What? It's no worse than Frosted Flakes, probably better. The whineing subsides momentairly and I head to the pantry to make some oatmeal for myself. I discovered what else I need at the store. Splenda. Damn it. I've got three packets left. That's enough for one perfect cup of coffee and one okay cup of coffee. I choose to leave the Splenda for my coffee and instead use *horrors* sugar in my oatmeal. I RARELY ever have real sugar in my house. Why? Because I'll eat it. Not like standing in the pantry with a spoon shoveling it into my mouth or anything like that, but I'll bake (I also rarely ever have flour in the house either) and I'll eat what I bake and my ass will grow wider and wider - hell I'm convinced that just having sugar in the house makes my ass grow wider. But I digress. I made my oatmeal with brown sugar and cinnamon. I offered some to Super Girl as I don't want her going to school without a good breakfast and her eating breakfast at school is OUT of the question (especially after I dicovered that she HAD been eating breakfast at school nearly EVERY day - this is AFTER I had already fed her here at home!!! This discovery solved the mystery of why the lunch money I sent was not lasting as long as it should have been - untill then I was thinking that maybe the lunch prices had gone WAY up). I finally succeeded in getting her to try the damned oatmeal which she liked and she wanted, so I made some for her. Great now she had a good breakfast but we were not running late. I'm barking orders at her to EAT while I put her socks and shoes on her. *sigh*

All because we didn't go to the store last night.

Super Girl's Coat

I just finished making this. She's going to look so damn cute in this coat.

Fabulous Photo

Yesterday my new Texas ID came in the mail. I was pleasently surprised at how GOOD the photo was. This is probably the BEST photo I've ever had for photo ID. Don't take my word for it, see for yourself.



This was me at 18. Let's not even mention the hair.


This one is about 8 or 9 years ago. I affectionately call it the Weeble picture because I look like a fucking Weeble. I was about 50 lbs heavier than I am now and on steriods for a medical thing.



And THIS is my current photo! I'm so shocked that it looks good. I'm considering going back and getting my holiday photos taken there. :o)

How To Move Up A Notch On My Hit List

Ask me to reach down the garbage disposal to retreive something you dropped down there because your big ol' gorilla hands won't fit down it. I just love sticking my hand in squishy wet food scraped off the dinner plates.

It's Over

I'm glad Thanksgiving is over. I don't really like Thanksgiving.

Eh... I'm not motivated to write... well I'm really not in a good mood. I'm fighting the urge to draw little illustrations of how I feel but that would be just stupid, so I won't.

That's enough for now. I'm sure tomorrow I'll feel different.

Illustration Friday: Cling



This is how I seem to find most of my socks these days.

This is my very late submission for last weeks Illustration Friday: Regal


I was on my way to spend the weekend with XXX. XXX had a suggestion for Regal, which would have fit well, but might be a tad bit of too much information to be sharing. ;o)

Blogger Trouble

I'm not sure what is going on with blogger, I haven't been able to get to my actually blog page (and that of many other people as well). Very frustrating, I have photos of my delicious Thanksgiving dinner and a cute photo of Bea eating a pumpkin cookie piece.

Being Thankful

Last night before we ate (gorged on) Thanksgiving dinner Super Girl made everyone go through a list of what we are thankful for. She was funny, she would continue to prompt us "What else?" untill we finally told her we were done.

Here is my list:

I am thankful for my dear family, they support me when I need it and love me. What more could I ask for from them.

I am thankful for XXX being in my life, I never imagined love could feel like this. Thank you XXX for putting up with my crap.

I'm thankful for my dear friends and for the encouragement and support they extend to me. I am often humbled by the emotional generosity they have.

I am thankful for the opportunities before me and hope that I have the courage to take advantage of them and succeed.

Thats it for now, I need to get on to work.

Golden Nugget Squash


Recently I purchased the above mentioned squashed. It was something new to try and it was fairly cheap.

Last night I decided it would make a lovely addition to our steak dinners. Boy was I misinformed. It's not that it tasted bad or anything like that. To be honest I have no idea what it taste like at all. I could NOT cut it open. It is hard as a ROCK! At one point I asked K to come in and hold the squash so I woudln't end up cutting my fingers if it slipped. (HE DID!) After several minutes of trying to saw open the damn thing with a big serated knife, I finally set it aside for another day (when I could find my chain saw or at the very least a hacksaw).

Later...

I take back all the bad things I said about the hard as nails gold nugget squash. After cooking it's quite delightful. And how did I manage to cook it... well let me give directions on how to cook a Golden Nugget Squash.

First purchase one very hard golden nugget squash. Throw it at someone's head if you are you are uncertain of it's hardness. It should have about the same effect as throwing a coconut at someone's head. If not, look for harder squash.

Next head home with the intentions of makeing the squash for a quick addition to dinner.

Try to cut squash open with every cutting utensile in the knife drawer, briefly consider smacking it with hammer. Give up after a half an hour and only putting a small gash in the side. Put in fridge while muttering swear words under breath.

Day two, search the internet for how to prepare golden nugget squash and make sarcastic comments every time a recipe starts with "cut up squash". Find one vague reference to cooking the squash whole.

Place whole squash (with gash in side) in pan and bake in 350 degree oven until the small pumpkin next to it is fork tender (Hey, I needed to cook my pumpkin) which would be about an hour or two.

After pumpkin is cooked, remove pan and allow both pumpkin and squash to cool. Later, take large knife and start to cut open whole squash with gash in side. Be surprised at how easy it is to cut squash now. Remove seeds and add butter and salt to pulp, mix well and enjoy.

It's easy! :o)

Doing Like The Pilgrams



Except I have electricty, and running watter and I didn't have to kill my own turkey and I have a Thank-the-gods-for-this-invention microwave oven and instant potatoes (yeah, yeah, I know, burn me at the steak, I like instant taters). I do make my own pumpkin pie, right down to the crust.

This morning Super Girl and I have been cleaning the kitchen and making pumpkin pie. This is a landmark day for me. Today was the FIRST time that Super Girl was ACTUALLY helpful. Generally when the Little People 'help' it means that I have to watch and moniter everything they do and fix what doesn't get done. This morning was different, she actually did what was asked and did it right. We made pumpkin pie tarts together and she was a great help.

Cabbage Patch however was her usual 3 year old self, that is to say EVIL in a cute covering. I'm glad it's nap time for her as I'm tired of dealing with her constant argueing, hitting, biting and just being mean.

Back to baking.

Clarification

I sometimes wonder if I only portray my love for XXX as purely sexual. If so I must appologize, it's simply not so. The sex IS fucking fantastic, but I was mad about him long before I drug him off for carnal pleasures. XXX is incredibly sexy, and he's intelligent - I go weak in the knees for a smart man, and if he's hot and sexy too, well I'm just a puddle. He's funny, so funny in fact he can make me laugh hard enough to make milk come out of my nose - even when I'm not drinking milk! A man with a good sense of humor is terribly important as I'm an incredible dork and say stuid things before my brain kicks in to stop the mouth. Laughter is almost as much fun as multiple orgasms. He's humble, arrogant men are as much of a turn off as stupid men. He's interesting, I love talking to him - and a man who is a good conversationalist is better than calorie/fat free Godiva chocolates (which don't exist, but they would be great). And most of all, XXX is just a great guy. I could go on for a while about what I like about him, but I know most of you are starting to feel light headed and nauseated already from the sickley sweetness of it all so I'll stop for now.

Anyway, it's not ALWAYS about sex with me. ;o)

The WHOLE Fucking Week!

That's how long Super Girl is off from school. It's day two of her break and I'm seriously considering suing the county for wasting my tax dollars that are supposed to be going to paying teacher salaries. I have never been more supportive of year round school than at this very moment.

Why does my kid get a whole fucking week off for Thanksgiving? I mean really. I don't recall ever getting a week off for Thanksgiving. Why do they need the WHOLE WEEK off? I'm looking forward to going to work on Thursday and Friday (and the weekend as usual).

Don't get me wrong I love my progeny dearly. I just don't see why one needs a week off right now. See screwing with the offsprings schedule is a disasterous proposition. As in my home becomes a disaster in a matter of seconds.

This is how my morning went. 7:20 AM I am awakened by the sound of Super Girl wanting breakfast. 15 minutes later Cabbage Patch joins us downstairs. I go to kitchen to make her breakfast. When both are eating I leave room (my first mistake) for a moment, when I return the tsunami of toys has over taken my living room floor. As I wade through the flood of toys and crap littering the floor I discover soggy Cherrios (with my bare foot no less) on the floor. 8 AM, breakfast is finish the requests for the clean up crew begins. 9 AM the requests continue. 9:30 AM the requests get more urgent. 10 AM the requests get more desperate (and angry). 10:15 AM my head spins around 7 times then pops off my neck and flies around the room like someone let go of an inflated balloon. When my head reattaches itself to my neck it's just an angry looking skull with flames shooting out of the eye sockets. The unearthly voice coming from the mouth is mine but sounds as though it's come from the very bowles of hell as I bark out orders and threats to the Tiny Terrorists. 'PICK UP YOUR DAMN SHOES!' is repeated more times than I can count but eventually the army of toys is beaten back and forced to retreat to their holding areas and every last scrap of damn paper is picked up off the floor. I was able to vaccuum and am pleased that all the sofa cushions are ON the couch. About the time I went to make lunch my skin returned to my skull and I extinguished my flaming eyes. Yes it really did happen that way, you're invited to the next incident, no flash photography please.

Things are back to normal for the moment but I'm still wishing they made Valium in a childrens chewable tablet.

On days like these occasionally I'm reminded that when Super Girl was an infant I had this insane thought of home schooling her. Bwhahahahahahahahahahaha!

Okay now it's time for my first cup of coffe for the day.

Bragging Because I Can

Have any of you ever had such a fabulous and amazing experience that you just HAD to tell other people about it no matter how dorky it may make you sound? Have any of you ever found something you thought you lost and were so freaking excited that you just had to tell all your friends? That's what I'm doing. I had both happen to me simultaniously this weekend. I'm sure you are wondering what I'm talking about, sex, that's what I'm talking about, sex. If you don't want to hear about my sex life (even vaguely) then now's your time to turn back.

Not only is XXX so damn sexy I have to make a concerted effort to keep my hands off him in public, he's also funny, intelligent and incredibly talented. Luckily for me he's talented in bed. *sigh* Yesterday morning we had the most amazing and incredible sex, and in the process of that the G-Spot was found! See, didn't I tell you he was talented?!?!?! I'm not sure if I should have a bronze plaque made for him or just send him a thank you note. Now don't get me wrong, we always always have really really wonderful sex, but Sunday morning was so good almost a religious experience... actually maybe it was, I do recall calling out to a higher power several times... *sigh*

He makes a damn good breakfast too! Am I not the luckiest woman in the world.

Weekend Update

I can sum it up in one word - spectacular. *sigh* What a nearly perfect weekend. Wish it could have lasted a bit longer. It was great though, I'm sure I'll be smiling about it for quite a while I'm sure. I hope XXX's neighbors didn't mind the noise too much.

More details on it later... maybe. ;o)

Yes Man, I'm Going To Tell Him, He Can Use A Laugh

Oh but the bus ride home. That was something else. As fate would have it, I did not get my usual sleep time on the bus on the way home. Some guy smelling of cheap booze started hitting on me. He asked what I had been doing in the city and I told him I had been visiting my boyfriend a bit later in the conversation he asked if I was going to tell my boyfriend that I had talked to him and I laughed saying that I was going to tell my boyfriend that some drunk guy was hitting on me on the bus. He said "No man, don't tell your boyfriend I was hitting on you!" This of course did not stop him from hitting on me and asking for my phone number no less than 10 times (said like this "You're gonna give me your number right?"). He was harmless and relatively nice when he wasn't trying to make moves on me. Here are some comical bits and pieces of the conversation that took place on the long ride home.

Him: That's too bad.
Me: What?
Him: That's too bad you got a boyfriend and you're faithful to him.
Me: Yeah that's too bad for you! HAHAHAHAHA!
Him: Awww man, did you just say that's too bad for me?
Me: HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!

Him: *putting arm around me*
Me: *removing arm from around me* I don't think so.
Him: My arm is just tired. *putting arm around me again*
Me: *removing arm from around me again* Your arm can be tired right next to you.

(after brief discussion on breast implants and how one can tell fake from the real)
Him: Are those real? *pointing at my chest*
Me: Hmm??? Yes.
Him: Can I touch them?
Me: What? No!
Him: Oh come on, just let me feel them so I know the difference.
Me: NO! You got 4 kids, I'm sure you've felt enough real titties in your life. These one's aren't for you. *pointing to chest* Property of XXX.
Him: That's not even funny. I gave you that line. (the property of line in an earlier conversation)

Me: *removing his hand from my leg*
Him: Oh sorry, I thought that was my leg *putting hand back on my leg*
Me: *removing his hand from my leg again* Uh no.
Him: But... *moving hand back towards my leg*
Me: *blocking his hand* Hands off.
Him: awww...

Heh. He wasn't a total pig the whole ride to Dallas, early on since he was drunk he kind of rambled on and mumbled a lot. I did a lot of laughing at him, which he didn't seem to appreciate but it didn't disuade him in the least from hitting on me nor did it make him want to move. Ah well, I guess I need to try harder next time.

C-Section Comments

I read this article about how more and more women are delivering via c-sections. I read the line where it said that c-sections are still uncommon and almost choked on my coffee. That is so not true I thought. C-sections are VERY common. I work in a hospital taking photos of newborn babies, I know who has had a vaginal delivery and who has had a c-section. C-sectons are NOT uncomon. Then I thought of something else, c-sections are almost the norm in one of my hospitals, about even split in another hospital and not done often at the other hospital. What is the difference? I'll tell you. Economics. The hospital that has the MOST c-section is in a more afluent area and a majority of thoes who deliver at that hospital are at least firmly in the middle class earning bracket, many are in the upper class earning bracket (professional sport personalities wives, CEO's wives, doctors, etc.). Rarely do I see women who are Medicade patiences. At the hospital with the even split I see mostly middle income families and lower income families with a few Medicade patients. At the hospital with the lowest c-section rate I see mostly low income families, imigrants, people from rural communities further out and a lot of Medicade patients.

I agree with the statements of the article that people seek control over their lives, but I also see how economics makes doctors more willing to offer c-sections for convenience. Kind of sad really. I'll keep the rest of my comments and opinions regarding c-sections and child birth to myself as I KNOW I would offend some who read this site. ;o)

Flowers


I do love flowers. I try to grow some every year (usually unsuccessfully). I love being given flowers for any reason. Cabbage Patch gave me the bunch you see above.

This morning as I walked Super Girl to the bus stop one of her class mates called out her name and met her with a flower in his hand. She turned to me and beamed, he gave her the best kind of flower for a 5 year old - a perfect, fluffy wish flower (the dandilon seed thingies that blow away). I wish I had of had my camera at that very moment.