Creating Havoc

Blog Update

2006-09-25T12:54:00.000-07:00

Due to unforseen circumstances I've decided to eliminate this blog. I will email any of you that I have addresses for. If you don't publish your email address and you'd like to email me at karigoesawol@hotmail.com so I can give you the scoop, please do.

Hope to hear from you all.

I'd like to blame it on alcohol but I didn't get drunk 'til I got there.

2006-09-22T06:46:00.000-07:00

This is a picture of me shortly after high school. In the 80's. At a New Years party with my high school boyfriend. On off, on off after high school. He bored me and I dumped him, which is sad. I probably should have married him and I wouldn't have the tidy little collection of ex husbands I have now. My only defense? I was young and dumb. Why else would I have actually worn an outfit like that in public? Unless he bought it for me and thought it was SO hot and requested that I wear it to a party where everyone looked at me like I was a hooker upon our arrival.

Despite the fact that I dumped the gentleman in the photo, I feel very fortunate to have my wonderful JJ now and that my high school man and I are good friends to this day. JJ makes me laugh and he's kind, which I've mentioned before. If I didn't have JJ I wouldn't be able to share titillating conversations like this one:

"What's this dildo wrapper doing here?"

"It's not a dildo wrapper. It's from a freakin' yo-yo. Besides, have you ever seen a dildo in this house?"

"Hello!? There's a red one in the bedroom."

"That's not a dildo ya dork, it's a vibrator. It was a gag gift and it's sold old now that the inside is probably filled with battery acid."

"Well what the difference?"

"A dildo is a giant rubber cock. A vibrator is a penis shaped tube that, well, vibrates."

At which point JJ said something that made me snort uproariously. It had the word 'mysterious' in the sentence. I can't remember what he said, but you should laugh now.

I knew I should have blogged about this last night. *sigh*

Bennnn the two of us need look no more.....we both found what we were lookiiiiinnng foooor...

2006-09-14T14:11:00.000-07:00

A world class pack rat. That's my Dad. We~my siblings, JJ and I helped my Dad move this past weekend. I cannot even begin to explain the things we found in that house. He's lived there for 30 years so things do tend to accumulate but DAMN.

Need and anvil? Got one.

How about a pair of boots from the 20's with one strap on ice skate thingy? Got one.

Maybe a couple of nice sombreros? Check! Got two.

A genuine butter churn? Yup.

A collection of 50 or more neon beer signs and MANY complete sets of beer mirrors? Got those too!

A jug with a corn-cob cork? No...really...it's a rag wrapped around a corn cob and stuffed in the hole. I can get you one.

Everything you need to make moonshine or wine. Homemade wine from 1994. Bottles and bottles of rhubarb and cranberry. We've got that...drinks are on me!

A complete set of 'half-dressed man strips when chilled' swizzle sticks.

A model A. Genuine. In one piece. Two in various states of disrepair.

An 8 track player AND plenty of 8 track tapes. (Plans to download to the computer)

Old 45's by the boxful. Albums. Yes, REAL VINYL albums. Herb Albert and the Tijuana Brass. Conway Twitty. (Plans to download to the computer)

A soft-side water bed? Another soft-side water bed? They're all yours...just come pick them up.

Fireworks from who knows when. We carried that chest carefully.

Old paper targets.

Old pull-tabs.

A dead mouse.

A dead bat.

A couple of old squash in the root cellar. Mostly unidentifiable due to the mold growing on them.

4000 canning jars. Empty.

4000 canning jars. Full.

And the list goes on. REALLY. This is just the tip of a very large, seemingly insurmountable iceberg of crap. This unique and one of a kind collection of odds and end will be up for auction in the spring. Don't miss out.

Beached Whale

2006-09-08T09:18:00.000-07:00

See our new, 50ft. luxury houseboat? Note how it gracefully floats on the waves of grass, placidly passing the scenic pine forest? Ahhhhhhh...the peacefulness of life on a gently blocked-up boat. The view of the tree-tops from the loft bedroom is spectacular...once you scrap away the sap. The kitchen, a rats dream. The floor to ceiling doors let in the crisp, fresh air and balmy breezes/chilling freezes and the rodents, the birds and the bees. Oh and the bathroom...shower stall, hole in the floor for the commode...all the standard amenities.

This beached behemoth is our new project. JJ purchased the giant heap of steel for only $2000. We plan to hold a big party when we finally get her completed and in an actual body of water. So folks, you're all invited for the maiden voyage. Cocktails, hors d`vores, sun and fun! Clear your calendars...about 2 or 3 summers from now.

I'll admit that at first, I was a bit hesitant. However, JJ's exuberance is contagious and the prospect of wielding power tools is intoxicating. I will keep you posted on the progress.

In other news, our attorney has filed the paperwork to strip my step-father of executorship of my mother's will. Now we wait for the wheels of the law to turn. Sloooow, slooow wheels. *sigh*

Get BuzzWhacked

2006-09-07T07:09:00.000-07:00

If you've never visited this site, BuzzWhack, I recommend it highly. I'm always making up words and using them as if they were recognized by Webster's so it quite entertains me to read someone else's ideas.

ringxiety: Triggered by the ringtone of a cell phone, it's when everyone in a public place or meeting reaches simultaneously for their cell before it begins its second embarrassing ring.

digital dieting:d Thanks to digital photography and PhotoShop, more and more folks are managing to lose weight - by removing pixels, not pounds. (Hey, it worked for Katie Couric.) The BuzzWhacker is hoping to add hair.

leisure guilt: The guilt that comes with taking a vacation or a day off from work. You're so anxiety-ridden about the work you're leaving behind (or will be returning to) that it's less painful not to take time off. Nominated by Susan Anderson

plutoed: To be unceremoniously dumped or relegated to a lower position without an adequate reason or explanation. Mug, shirts available Nominated by Cecil Pinto

keypal: Pen pals are ancient history. E-mail and instant messaging have turned them into keypals. (Keyboards, get it?)

opportunity: Something bestowed upon you by your boss that provides all of the stress of taking on additional job responsibilities with absolutely no increase in financial compensation. Nominated by Erik Schroeppel

typerventilating: An instant messagingpanic attack.
without clients: Phrase used by consultants to put a positive spin on the fact that they're currently unemployed. Nominated by Keath Montgomery

IMglish or imglish: The secret and evolving language of Instant Messaging. The collection of abbreviations, acronyms and shorthand that allows IMers to say whole sentences in three to five letters – and keep parents and employers in the dark. See BuzzWhack's list of 462 IMglish translations.

chirped: To contact someone on using a cell phone's walkie-talkie feature (with that annoying chirping sound). "I chirped her to see if she wanted to go to dinner. Nominated by Rebeccas Harris

Wikipediate: To confirm or validate something by looking it up on Wikipedia. (Which, of course, doesn’t mean it’s actually true, but it makes you feel better anyway.) Nominated by Jim Merrion

socially produced: In the Internet world, it's a Web site that derives its content primarily from a group of unpaid volunteers or from visitors to the site who add their two cents worth. Wikipedia is a socially-produced site.

refrigerator Hoovers: A teenage son and his friends who can suck every morsel from your fridge in a single night.Nominated by John Robertson
blogger: Bloggers have become the media’s new darlings, but in BuzzWhack’s view marketing guru Guy Kawasaki’s definition rings truer than ever: Someone with nothing to say writing for someone with nothing to do.

simonized: To be verbally bludgeoned, insulted or trashed. As perfected by "American Idol" judge Simon Cowell. "Jennifer really got simonized." Mug, shirts available

relanguage: Term used by $300-an-hour consultants when $5 words, such as reword, rephrase or rewrite, would work just as well. "I think we can relanguage that to be more effective."

synopsize: To condense the details of a boring, two-hour meeting into a briefer - yet still as boring - version. T-shirt, mug available Nominated by Cindy Erwin

works as designed: A common rejoinder, often used by engineers and programmers, to a flawed product. "Can't help you. It works as designed." Of course, the Titanic worked as designed, too. Designed to stay afloat if two compartments were flooded, it sank when three were breached. T-shirt, mug available Nominated by David Miller

Shit for brains.

2006-08-31T14:38:00.000-07:00

I consider myself a reasonably intelligent person. JJ too. Why then, must these conversations take place?

Me: Jesus, you stink. Why do you have to do that in bed?

JJ: I faced it toward you so the fan would blow it away from me.

Silence...

Me: Do you think that when you fart actual germs come out? Like brown fart spores?

JJ: Good question.

More silence...

JJ: Probably.

Me: Gross, I breathe through my mouth when people fart and it stinks.

I'm gonna wash that man right outa my hair.....

2006-08-22T14:11:00.000-07:00

Do you think it's fair that woman have to shave/wax/depilatorize/bleach their body hair?

Most men look at a hairy woman with something akin to horror on their face. Hairy pits, hairy legs, a teeny-tiny bit of bikini-line overgrowth and God forbid a bit of a mustache or some chin hair and men just freak right. the. fuck. out. Yet they run around with rampant back hair, tangled pubes, testicular fuzziness, hair on their legs, their arms, chests, their neck, their pits, their face, sprouting from their nostrils, ears and ass crack and we accept them in all their glorious hairiness! OH and let's not forget the dreaded unibrow!! So what's up with the big double standard?

I'm going on strike. Look for my picture in the next publication of the Sasquatch Sentinel...I'll be the one with the golden highlights.

And yes, I realize that 'depilatorize' isn't a real word.

Here's your sign?

2006-08-18T13:22:00.000-07:00

I got a professional hair cut a while ago.

I fixed it myself when I got home because she cut it badly. This is a common practice for me.

Note to self: Cutting your own hair is NEVER a fix. Even if you think the front looks okay, you can't possibly know what the back is doing.

I went for another long overdue professional haircut on Friday.

Holding up the ends that looked like I cut them with a weedwacker, looking at me in the mirror, she asked, "Would you like me to fix this?"

"No, leave it crooked and ugly."

NEVER judge a book by it's cover, or a guy by the way he can dance.

2006-08-18T11:52:00.000-07:00

When the girls and I used to hang out at a local club there was a guy named, well, I'll call him Oscar. Oscar was a guy we knew when we were all younger and quite amazingly, considering his parental DNA, he was VERY hot. He put his time in some branch of the armed services and came home able to dance and nicely muscled. This, his cuteness, his insanely smellgood cologne and his lickable teeth made him a desirable partner so we monopolized his time. Not a lot of people in my hometown, not that it's like Deliverance or anything, have all these fine qualities. I should have been suspicious; but one night, after a few drinks too many, I invited luscious little him to my, newly-vacated-by-the-move-out-three-days-before-Christmas-without-any-warning-ex, house. My intent wasn't clear to me, okay, big lie...it was totally crystal clear and I'm not ashamed. I wanted to throw him down, strip him naked and bounce up and down on his dead sexy body until he cried uncle.

I have an aversion to strangers in my bed. I sleep there so, I maneuvered him into raucous sex on the livingroom floor instead. Not a bad start, he was an okay kisser (note to men: woman put a lot of stock in that first kiss) he wasn't a manhandler, he knew what buttons to push, he didn't dig for the wet spot, trimmed fingernails...things seemed to be progressing well despite the fact that he shaved his legs and chest hair (hello?) and suddenly all my hot sex dreams were crushed.

Now I'm not one to judge a guy by the size of his member. Truly, I'm not. I've been with guys who have monstrous junk and don't have a clue what to do with it and I've been with guys who are less than average sized who ROCK in bed, so I'm an equal opportunity kinda gal. No discrimination from me. But seriously, when he...damn, I don't even know how to say this... because penetrated just isn't the right word...okay...when he penetrated me I was thinking, now, now, NOW!!! And much to my dismay, he was in. Sorta. It kinda rubbed along one side of my girl part. Bumped the topside. Slanted to the other side. Now I know some of you guys might think..."She's probably a sloppy 'ol thing"...well I'm not! I've had my fingers in there and it's quite snug thankyouverymuch, plus the kegal thing, I can do that! As my friends sister stated later, "It must have been an industrial accident!"

While he was gruntin' and pumpin' I was laying there trying not to laugh because all that would go through my head was, "Is he ever going to finish?" or, "Now I've had an Oscar Mayer wiener, everyone should feel real bad for me." Finally, the end. Whew. He was getting ready to hunker down for the night, you know, those light snores that say, "Anytime, I'm going to be dead to the world." I had to act fast! The fake stretch and yawn, the I have to be to work early better go home now 'cause if you stay I won't sleep tactics, and the toss of his rumpled clothes in his general direction. In my defense, I wouldn't normally operate this way but I was drunk and I wanted him to go home. I was disillusioned...not to mention, horny as hell. As I walked/pushed him toward the door I noticed his shirt was on inside out and I didn't even tell him! I wanted to call the girls right then and there to dash their dreams on the rocks of Little Wiener Lake too! It wasn't fair that they might still harbor some false hope or have an inaccurate sex dream. It was my duty to girlfriendom.

I danced with him the following week. It just wasn't the same. He's now married. She's a better woman that me.

P.S. This is by far the worst I've ever treated a guy. Usually I'm much nicer. Just for the record people.

Now we're cookin' with gas!

2006-08-11T10:56:00.000-07:00

Grief is a little like an onion. When something happens, that fragile outer skin is peeled away leaving you in tears. Then you're left with the brutal layers. As you hack away at the onion each layer gets successively smaller though each still brings tears, much like grieving does. Soon you're left with the perfect, glossy center. Those flawless little orbs, representative of memories that you cherish, but that don't seem to cause the tears the outer layers did. Eventually, you are at peace again which is quite similar to completing the onions dissection and throwing it into the pan. Finally, the quiet sizzle and wonderful aroma of the onions sauteing in butter and seasonings makes you feel warm inside and you forget the tears.

My Mom has been gone for almost three years. The grief does fade and the memories don't seem to hurt like they once did. That is they didn't...until early this week when we heard from our attorney. Shortly after my Mom passed we asked my Step-Dad if she had left a will. He told us no. It's always rattled around in the back of my head because I distinctly remember having a discussion with her about the will 'they' made. My Mom was intelligent and passing down heirlooms etc. meant a lot to her. She always told us, "This will be yours, this will be your sisters..." At the time, we decided not to pursue the issue. We were concerned for my Step-Dad's wellbeing. My Mom was the major bread winner due to the many illnesses he claimed plagued with, and excuses for not working that he came up with. Because of this, and how we grew up barely staying off welfare, she was careful with money. I'd say his employment history was transient at best over the 19 years they were married. And when they married he didn't bring much to the table in the way of assets.

Many things over the past three years have distressed my siblings and me. For instance:

1) The robbery where the ONLY thing stolen was my Mom's jewelry.

2) The redecorating of the entire house within weeks of her death and subsequent refusal to relinquish any my Mom's belongings even though he had put MOST of them in the garage.

3) The engagement, three months after her death and the large diamond engagement ring he purchased for his new wife.

4) The elaborate wedding and reception which took place three days following the first anniversary or her death.

5) The purchase of an IMPORTED, custom scooter complete with side car and matching trailer.

6) The purchase of a food-wagon, like you see at fairs and auctions.

7) The purchase of a motor home.

8) The comment he made to my sister about, "It sure is nice to not worry about money!"

9) He came to my sister to have her sign, and get my brother and me to sign...something to do with HIS life insurance. She took it to her attorney who couldn't figure out why he would need us to sign anything to do with his insurance. We didn't sign and he never approached any of us again after my sister told him she took it to her attorney.

10) Hearing that he was going to sell the house my Mom and he built after selling piece of property they purchased for a pittance and sold at a huge profit, several years earlier.

Hearing about the house was the final straw. My Mom wanted the house to go to her three kids and to his three kids. It's on a lake and it was to be used as a vacation home for all of us. Too many things were starting to pile up so my sister hired an attorney and we met with him to discuss our options. He sent a letter to every attorney in the three major cities surrounding our home town. I'm sure you can guess the outcome by now. There was indeed a will. Not only a will but a Marital Property Agreement assuring her children and grandchildren would be taken care of. I told you she was smart.

So he lied. He picked up a big damn onion and slammed it onto my cutting board. Now I grieve because my Mom's final wishes were buried with her. I grieve because we were allowed to believe that she forgot us...or at the very least, felt HE was more important. Even though we all knew she didn't feel he was more important, it just made us feel sad that she didn't even write down the things we knew she wanted us to have. Like family quilts, heirlooms, photo albums, her sewing machine. Things like that. And I grieve because greed is such an ugly thing and now to get what is rightfully ours, we are forced to drag people into court.

We've probated the will. Is that what you call it? It will be filed legally and he will have to answer for what he's done. If he is the executor of her will, he will be stripped of that title and it will go to my sister. There is also the possibility that he forged our names to some documents, given his efforts to have my sister sign a form that even her attorney thought was silly. We've determined that there were not one but TWO life insurance policies, her retirement, the profit from the sale of the land and the property that was protected by the marital property agreement. I'm not sure we will ever see a dime, but at this point, it's the principal of the matter. He should not go unpunished for his deceit and greed. When I see him I'm going to tell him how ashamed he should be. Not that he will be but I will feel better having said my piece.

If I could pick one person to be like it would be my Mom. Okay, with the exception of the polyester pants she seemed so fond of when we were young. And they way she made a fist, that was just damn ridiculous. But seriously, she was an incredible person and she didn't deserve this.

To all the pets I've loved before...

2006-08-04T12:10:00.000-07:00

Warning: Long post ahead.

When I went to bed last night, after watching JJ play with Jacee (dog) it dawned on me that I've had some pretty strange pets. I was always draggin' something home and begging to keep it. My first memory of a pet was a black poodle named Mr French. He was one of those poopscootin' dogs. When his ass itched he'd scoot along the carpet. Sometimes he'd have a clean hiney, sometimes not. He was shot by a neighbor. I don't remember much more.

Next came a white cat with black between his ears. His name was Sue; after the Johnny Cash song. I got him from my Uncle Louie's barn. He had a lot of kittens and eventually we had two entire sets of nine lives. We used to dress them and push them around in baby strollers. Just like dolls.

Then came Joker. He was a stray sheep dog lookin' thing that just showed up at our house one day. VERY nice, potty trained, scared to death of storms. He was a humper. He'd hump anything if it stayed still long enough. My brother used to dig holes. He once dug a hole as big around as the shovel head and as deep as he could reach. Then he jumped in. While my Mom was trying to pull him out the dog humped her leg, and when she shooed him away, he tried to hump my brother's head. He was my hero though. A burglar broke into our house and used my purple bike with the white banana seat as a getaway vehicle. I was devastated. It was SUCH a great bike. We later found the bike in a ditch not to far from our house, and there was blood on the seat. I'm sure Joker bit him so he'd abandon my bike. At least that's the story I stick too.

While we had Joker we had a Guinea Pig or two, or seven, or fifteen. They are breeding machines! We used to keep them in an old bulk tank on the porch. While we were gone it stormed; Joker broke in and we never saw another Guinea Pig ever. He may have ate them. In fact, I'm pretty certain that's what happened. The sides of that tank were about 2 1/2 feet tall and it wasn't tipped over. Joker finally ran away after deciding he'd stayed in one place long enough.

After that came Puss Puss, my Mom didn't like it when I yelled out the door for her. Then I aquired Sammie the Siamese. They got fleas in the house and were relegated to garage living after that. Sammie died from distemper and while he was dying in the basement, I was sobbing on the phone to my current boyfriend. Begging him to come and shoot him. He eventually expired and by time my boyfriend got there all that was left to do was put him in a bag and place him outside in the cold, inside a garbage can, until the ground thawed enough to have a proper burial. My brother took him out with that weeks garbage.

Casey, the little dog who tried to eat the mail man's car and walked around on her front feet for a month after getting hit by her nemesis...Snuffy, who would sneeze for bananas...and Bogart, who drank beer from a pie tin and dug holes came in quick succession. Bogart was a boxer. He dug a hole so deep and wide that the back steps sunk into the hole. I was forced, by my Mom, to find him a more suitable home.

I then had an evil cat from hell who would scream at anyone who got near him. Me included. NEVER sat on my lap, never purred. Pissed in my plants. He was finally put to sleep after about 8 years and a series of seemingly incurable urinary tract infections. While I had evil cat, I got Cora the St. Bernard who came to me complete with mange mites. She ate a bat, the flying kind and a bar of soap all in the same day. I know the vet laughed at me after I hung up. She also dug a hole through a mattress once when it stormed. She was petrified of storms. She died of old age.

Munch was next, and most recently grieved for. He was my first 'paid for' pet. Purebred Persian. An incredible cat with the best manners ever. He would actually ask for permission to sit on your lap and never got on the table or the counters. Ice cream was his weakness. That and canned chicken. Get either one out and he'd come running. He died not too long ago. I sat on the floor with him and gave him water on a spoon until he was gone. His ashes are in my bedroom. He saw me through a lot of tough times, he deserves a place of honor. I had him for 15 years. While I had Munch I got Keezie. An older Golden Retriever pup, who suffered from what my vet called 'kennelosis'. He hadn't been socialized and for the first month all he would do was slink into his pet carrier unless you forced him outside for a potty break. He ended up being the best behaved dog I've ever had. He could be on a 50 mph dash toward a cat and if I said 'come' he would stop on a dime. I made the mistake of getting a couple of parakeets when I had Keezie. Flip the Bird and Larry Bird. That was a HUGE mistake. Keezie was a bird dog after all. And besides that, they flicked poo on my wall. Ew. The birds finally went to a neighbor. God I loved that dog. Lost him to lyme's disease after only three years, but not before dropping about $3k, trying to make him better. He fell asleep in my arms as I sat on the floor of the vet's office sobbing. His ashes are in my room too.

After Keezie came Havoc. The name says it all and that's not even a slight exaggeration. He got kicked out of obedience class twice. We tried private lessons. The trainer said that he acted like a ADHD child. Think Marley And Me. That dog was atrocious. My ex took him when he left and I found out later that he abandoned him. No one called me and asked if I wanted him, the people my ex dumped him on later surrendered him to a Lab rescue group. I was pissed.

Now I've got Jacee, a sweet puppers with a slight shyness issue. Except with us...she's pretty spoiled and very outspoken about what she wants. She will jump/fly from one piece of furniture to the other if she needs to go outside and she terrorizes my cats. She has a thing for JJ's feet. If they are exposed she will walk up and chomp them. It's quite amusing. I got her at the pound. She was a sack of bones but now she's beautiful and healthy. Smart too. Sneaks up onto the bed AFTER we go to sleep. They told me she was a coon hound/lab mix but she's pretty small. Only 60 pounds. I've also got Peep, a Maine Coon lookin' cat, he came home with me after I visited the pound one day to 'make myself cheer up'. Duh. He's a bug eater. And finally Shake. He was a flea bitten stray with attitude. He rides around on my shoulder and tries to get in the bathtub with me.

It seems strange that all my pets have had such odd quirks. I suppose it's normal that they have distinct personalities or it could be possible I've just passed on my quirks to them. Not that I eat bugs, or scoot poo-butt on the carpet...but I have been known to do some strange things.

Would someone pleeeeaase fold my laundry!

2006-07-31T16:30:00.000-07:00

It's something I hate to do. Laundry. If I could afford to take it all to the cleaners, or to simply buy new and throw the old stuff away I would! It became quite apparent to me this weekend that I need to make a much better effort at doing the nasty. And I don't mean sex, I mean the laundry.

I'm vacuuming the dining room and JJ comes out of the spare bedroom. That's where the clean laundry depository is. Right now it's the floor as there isn't a bed in that room, but there is a bed in the spare room downstairs and it's full of clean laundry too. So I glance at him and go back to my vacuuming. But something odd registered in my subconscious and I took a second look. There he was, tall, gangly, tattooed...doing his sexy catwalk around the dining room table in my clothes. Not just any clothes either. He had a kicky little khaki-colored linen skirt on, a white t-shirt and a melon colored cardigan that came up to the middle of his forearms and back. To say he looked like the ugliest drag queen ever was an understatement. Not a man meant to wear woman's clothes. He did a great job coordinating his outfit though. Needless to say, I had to laugh.

Understanding what was going on, my only reply was this, "Can't find any clean clothes huh?" You gotta feel sorry for the guy. I know I do.

It is absolute HELL being a girl.

2006-07-24T11:38:00.000-07:00

Seriously guys, you don't know how easy you have it. You stuff it in your pocket and away you go. You don't even have to give it a second thought. It's there all day. Sometimes they even add a snappy chain so that if it falls from your drawers it's prevented from getting away.

Today I shopped for a new purse. I don't need a expensive purse, just functional. I know some people adore their Coach bags, and I'll admit, some are quite nice, but I make it a rule to purchase purses that don't cost more than the actual cash I have inside them.

Here's the dilemma. I love a small purse but want ALL the organizational features of a large bag. For instance, I need a separate place for my cell phone. A zippered pocket to hold all my private 'girl gear'. Can't have that kinda stuff hangin' from your wallet when you drag it out in public. It's just embarrassing. God forbid it fall on the floor. I have small feet and slow reflexes and it's not as easy as you might think to stomp on an escaped tampon and hide it from view, especially those super duper ginormous sizes we all need on occasion, never mind the fact that the paper can occasionally rip off the outside if not protected properly, and then you are left with a lipstick smudged wad of cotton in a badly smushed cardboard tube. Then there are the filing features...I need a slot for my wallet and one for all my receipts and miscellaneous loose papers. I like a compartment to stow make-up, a real necessity for those mid-day touch-ups and a handy little coin purse is a definite plus. Plus, the strap has to be just right, accommodating those hands-free shopping adventures. It simply cannot...put ANY pressure on your shoulder or neck. Shopping is expensive enough without the added inconvenience of a follow-up chiropractic appointment.

So why don't I just buy a large purse and get it over with? It's a well known fact, among women, that the larger the purse, the more crap you stuff into it. You take your eyes off it for a second and it's become the equivalent of a camel's hump. A deadly weapon when slung over your shoulder. An instrument of mondo-destruction in stores with lots of shelves sporting breakable items. A torture device if carried too long.

So for an hour I mill around the purse department discarding one after another. Great features, sadly, a heinous color. Cute smallness but only one compartment. All the features I need but it looks like Grandma's reject. Love the fabric hate the style. After an hour of messing up the entire purse department, ripping the stuffing from the pockets, stuffing wallets from the display into various purses as a test of 'roominess without gargantuaness', making sure of course, there is still room for my keys, I settle on a smallish purse. It has two pockets on the outside front, a long narrow zippered compartment on the outside and a smaller zippered pocket inside. However, I'm still not 100% satisfied. Story of my life.

In other news, I traded in an engagement ring and ordered a big honkin' diamond ring for myself. JJ has offered to pay for a portion as a X-Mas gift.

I scratched my eyelid and have no idea how.

I read I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell by Tucker Max. He is a vile excuse for a man, Hell a human being, but I did laugh uproariously and frequently at his escapades. That being sad, I'm quite confident that he is going to die old and alone, his penis shriveled and pock-marked.

I tried to keep my cool.

2006-07-19T14:01:00.000-07:00

One visit to the local laundromats is all it took. I have an extra air conditioner and it's sitting around collecting dust. Now that the driveway is completed I've been making an effort to rid my house of all unnecessary junk. Trips to the local Goodwill store, lots of extra garbage on garbage day and an inventory of things saleable. I posted a FOR SALE sign on Friday night.

Monday the crazies to start calling. First caller up, her name is Colleen. She called when I was at work so the message on voice mail went something like this, "I'm calling about the air conditioner. I live in an upstairs apartment and it's hotter than HELLLLL up here! Please call me back." Well, Colleen is older, it's apparent by her voice. Either that or she smokes a few packs of unfiltered Pall Malls each day while she cools off by drinking from the 40 ounce Budweiser she keeps in a brown sack and wedges between her thighs so it doesn't spill. She asks how much, to which I reply, "It's a window air conditioner about 17 or 18k BTU's and not too old, it works well, I'd like $75." She says, "I'm on disability and I only get a check once a month for $773." She asks if I think it will cool her house. "I've got five rooms...with doors, a staircase and 4 fans going and it's still hotter than hell up in here." I'm really not following her thought process but I play along. I explain that it cooled my entire lower level and that I live in a somewhat large home on ______street. She says, "I know where that is, Jose Ramirez lives on that street. Do you know him? He works at _____. He's Mexican." (Which I assumed...I mean I wouldn't have guessed that he was Irish with a last name like Ramirez would I?) I tell her no, that I don't know her friend. Sadly, I do not know Jose the Mexican who resides on the same street with me.

The call goes on. It's been at least 15 minutes and I still don't know if she wants the air conditioner or not. After mulling it over for awhile she asks, "Will it fit in my window?" Now, not having seen her windows before I really have no idea if it will fit or not, do I? I have her hold the line while I track down a tape measure, traipse out onto to the sweltering porch and take the dimensions. I come back and report to her, "It's 24 inches wide." She asks, "Is it heavy? I can only lift 10 pounds." I inform her that it's rather heavy, yes, and she will need some help to install it if she can only lift 10 pounds. Maybe Jose? She asks, "Is it going to make my electric bill go up a lot?" (What!? How the hell do I know?) I respond, "If you have 4 fans going, I can't imagine it would be any worse that." By now I've grown weary. And I'm thinking I might just want to strangle myself with the tape measure or throw the air conditioner away instead of selling it. So, in an effort to get her off the phone, and because I'm not entirely heartless to her situation, I offer to sell it for $50. She then tells me that her cousin is coming over to look at the antique air conditioner she has on her porch, to see if it's worth using, and she will call me back.

I sigh and hang up the phone incredibly happy that JJ had not answered the call, he would have went and looked at her apartment, measured her window, hauled it over to her house, checked her wiring to make sure it was adequate, installed it in the window, ran to the store for the proper window sealing treatments, waited until her house cooled down, made her dinner, mowed her yard and then refused her offer to pay for the air-conditioner before tucking her into bed and reading her a few pages of Cinderella. I realize then, there is a slight possibility that I may be a bit bitchy and that I should try to be a bit more compassionate. I should try harder to be thoughtful. Really I should.

Last night, when I checked voicemail, she'd left another message. "My cousin put the air conditioner I had in the bedroom window, it's still reeeally hot up here. It's not working well at all. Will you call me back?"

There's a nice person coming to pick up the air-conditioner tonight. I don't know what his name is but I'm sure it's not Colleen.

Home again, home again jiggity jig!

2006-07-16T18:19:00.000-07:00

My Dad lives waaay out in the country. Okay, well not in the direct center of Bumblyfuck, but far enough that he could wander around naked if he choose to do so. We went out there today for crab legs, shrimp we picked up in Gulfport and some yummy corn on the cob. Corn whores are back on the corners...yippee.

JJ took my nephew and our dog for a walk in the woods several times. I have no idea why, because it's hot as hell here. Chub-rub weather. Sweat running down your neck and between your boobies weather. Hotter than a whore in a pecker patch weather. I prefer 80's with low humidity. But I don't always get what I want of course. Sad, but true. On their last walk our sweet puppers took a detour and JJ lost track of her. I was NOT a happy camper. I knew he felt badly but I was still upset and demanding that he look for her or something. She's timid. She's not a 'country' dog and it's supposed to storm tomorrow. Not to mention that the heat is...well, we already covered that. Additionally, she just lost her I.D. tags so she was nameless. A real stray. My poor baby. The thought of her thinking she was abandoned broke my heart.

He took the ATV into the woods and I stood outside bellering her name over and over. I shouted that I'd take her for a ride, her favorite pastime, but she didn't come running this time. Finally, I took off in the car, my Dad's lady friend went the opposite direction that I did and we and we let the neighbors know what she looked like and to keep any eye out for her. Sadly, I had resigned myself to the fact that she was probably gone and I'd get a whole lot more of the bed from now on but, I was still VERY upset.

After about an hour, my Dad points out the back window and there she is trying to drink out of the bird-bath. She must have ran and ran because she looked half-crazed and wouldn't come to me when I called her. As I approached her she shied away from me and I was fearful she'd bolt. A couple of desperate pleas and I had her collar in hand.

She's currently sleeping off her jaunt, curled up in a hairy little ball on the back of the sofa. Normally, it irritates me that she mushes the sofa back like that but today, somehow it just doesn't matter. I cannot fathom how a parent must feel if their child is missing.

I added some friends!

2006-07-14T14:14:00.000-07:00

Over there on the side. Go visit. Hey Turkey dude...you're there too. Just not at the bottom. Nice picture on your profile Bennett, you look just like a guy I used to date. There's a naked lady here...or so I thought. She's so sweet it puzzles me! And damn girl...I care. That's who cares!

This is why you don't eat before bed.

2006-07-13T13:17:00.000-07:00

I awoke at 2:09 am this morning. Fresh out of dream. I've heard authors say they keep notepads beside their beds for this very reason. So they can write down ideas that came to them in their sleep. You know, for a Pulitzer prize winning novel. Just a stab in the dark, but I'm guessing I'll never be an author.

In my dream, JJ and I were camping. We had a tent set up in a beautiful, shady, little cul de sac and were surrounded by other campers. All of them very friendly and of Asian descent. All had babies. In the next scene, the tent has now morphed into a garage with a bathroom in the corner. A tall annoying blond woman rides in and out of the bathroom, sitting on a skateboard. Each time she comes out, she has saggier breasteses and is more emaciated, and each time she is wearing a new shirt. One of them was pink; one a white tank top. From the armhole of her wrinkly white tank top she pulls a nasty boob and asks JJ if he wants to suck her nipple. Nonchalantly, he does. I'm insanely mad and yell and rage at him...and I'm suddenly awake.

Anyone want to take a crack at dream analyzing? I'm completely stumped. I did however, eat hot wings as part of a late dinner.

??

2006-07-10T14:25:00.000-07:00

Is it just me or does anyone else thing THIS is incredibly selfish? They did it on purpose! I don't know why it bothers me. It just does.

What? What did you say?

2006-07-07T13:47:00.000-07:00

Will wonders never cease? I believe I've been flirted with by the darling Vietnamese man that does my nails. Actually, he does my pedicures and I send everyone I know to him; his massage is that good.

From what I can deduce, in real life, before coming to America, he did something with computers. Now that he's living here, and has almost no grasp of the English language, he does pedicures. Usually, he smiles a lot. Pretty white teeth, nice eyes, he simply smiles and waves his hands as direction for what he needs me to do....which is pretty much nothing but sit like a lump. But today he was frisky. In addition to the smiling and waving, he was sliding his t-shirt up and showing me his flexed biceps. As he massaged my legs he repeatedly asked if..."feel good?" Then he usurped my polish decision and told me that his choice..."very sexy!" Prior to applying the polish, he leaned over my toes and blew them dry. What??

So now I have blown upon, sexy, polished toes and matching fingers and am left wondering if his flirting was sincere or if I should assume, from the rapid fire Vietnamese discussions bandied about, that he was making fun of me. I swear, I'm going to learn to speak the language and keep it a secret. Just because I'm nosy. Spanish too.

A shitty return trip.

2006-07-02T10:34:00.000-07:00

Home sweet home. Nothing better. I truly love to travel. It's my stomach that has issues with it. It never fails me. As soon as I'm in motion, my bowels rebel. This time around wasn't so bad. We were gone long enough for my guts to settle into a somewhat normal routine. For this I was grateful and was lulled into thinking that I'd gotten away scott free! Not so.

On the return trip my dastardly innards raged with a vengeance. It was if I were being repaid for enjoying the time they spent behaving themselves. For hours I felt as if, at any moment, I would explode. Each time, JJ patiently and willingly pulled off the interstate and found a restroom for me. Where, although I tried and tried, my best efforts were in vain. No caca. If I were a smart person, I would write a book about all of the public restrooms and rest areas I'd been in. Oh the stories! But I digress.

After pulling off the highway for about the 10th time, JJ asked if I was going to be okay. To which I stoically replied, "Just go, I want to get home." He then informed me that we were in an area that was less than safe and it would be about 1/2 hour until he could pull off again and not worry about being hi-jacked, robbed or worse. Not more than 10 minutes after telling me that he didn't think we should pull off the highway, I was asking, no, demanding that he pull off. He warned me that we weren't in the safest of areas and my response was to glare at him and tell him that I DARED anyone to come between me and the toilet. Not a raving rapist or gun- toting crack whore would keep me from the blessed commode. We careened around the corner, the boat we towed flapping in the tailwind we created, and screeched to a stop in front of a 24 hour Jack-In-the-Box. I sprinted to the door I thought would provide the quickest access to the restrooms. It was locked up. Those cruel, mocking potty-gods. Only the drive-through was open. Bastards. I then scurried across the parking lot, butt-cheeks scrunched together hard enough to bruise my anus, to the gas station next door where I was informed that the bathrooms were out of order because someone had burned them. What the fuck kind of heathen burns a bathroom down? Come on people!! Hold the place up, shop lift, but don't burn the damn bathrooms up. Sorry sonsabitches. At this point my I was pratically whimpering and as I jumped into the vehicle, I begged JJ to pull into the parking lot of the shopping center across the street so I could poop in front of God and anyone dumb enough to drive all night, like us. At that moment in time, I wanted nothing more than to find those bathroom burning imbeciles and kill them with my bare, shit-smeared hands. Fortunately JJ is an exceptional driver, and delivered me and my spasming guts to the Huddle House, just up the road, in time to make my deposit. Next stop, a trip to the convenience store for some $900 Immodium AD which I promptly swallowed. This did alleviate the problem for about 4 hours but as soon as it wore off...well, you get the idea.

Despite my poop issues, the first part of the trip was a-okay. JJ and my Dad fished and hung out, I laid by the pool, visited with JJ's Mom and we made a trip down to Gulf Port to buy shrimp. One year after Katrina and that place is still a sad and extremely tore up place to visit. I've seen the destruction caused by tornadoes but was ill prepared to view the massive, all encompassing destruction a hurricane causes. I cannot even begin to explain. Suffice it to say that for about 1/2 mile inland there is nothing but rubble. For miles and miles and miles along the coast, debris still litters the land, the formerly beautiful beaches and the water. I was literally in shock at the devastation. I still am. The beaches, the homes, the businesses....what it must do to a person's life is something I now comprehend after seeing what remains. And I know with 150% certainty that if I lived where a hurricane might strike, and the weather men said to get the hell out, I'd get the hell out. And fast. There is no escaping a hurricane. Not if you stay. And as I've mentioned before, I'm not a good risk taker.

So this was my trip. In a nutshell. I tasted grits, ate fried green tomatoes and okra. I ate black-eyed peas and fall-off-the-bone ribs that were amazing. I drank sweet tea each and every day. Huge sweating glasses of it. You'd think with all that caffeine running through their veins the people down there wouldn't move so slowly. Infuriatingly slow. As I'd stand in a check out isle tapping my impatient foot I couldn't help but wonder if a New Yorker would implode should they be deported to the state of Mississippi as a form of punishment.

Hold your breath. I'll be right back.

2006-06-21T11:57:00.000-07:00

I will be gone from tomorrow evening through July 4th. I'll be in Mississippi, watching JJ stick his hand into the homes of those very nasty catfish and hauling them out. Translation: I'll be spending a great deal of time relaxing by the motel pool. That's gotta be good for a few pictures huh? The handgrabbin' that is...not me at the pool.

Anyhoo...Sorry for the lack of posts but I've been busier than a one-legged man in an ass kickin' contest. I promise, upon my return I shall regale you with stories of the trip and assorted other things I think of along the way.

For now, I leave you with this. Have you ever asked yourself why dogs fart silently? How come they don't just let 'em rip? I mean really loud, ass-rattlin' rumbles. Most dogs I've had just lay there silently laughing to themselves as a noxious cloud of sinus numbing fumes wafts along, until finally unleashing it's assault on an unsuspecting, and innocent, human nose. What's up with that??

I'm bloated and I need a nap. Neither has anything to do with this post.

2006-06-15T11:21:00.000-07:00

Is it just me who finds this irritating? Waiters or waitresses now ask "How is your food tasting?" Is this new 'wait-staff jargon? Last time I checked food was an inanimate object and tasting was a verb. So technically, food cannot taste anything. I, on the other hand, am tasting my food and it's okay. Why can't they simply ask me "Does your food taste good?" Because then I could simply nod. Because you know they wait to ask until my mouth is full. Just once, I'd like to spit my food right onto my hand so I could tell them "Everything is tasting fine!" Or how about when they take all the glasses from the entire table to refill them??? How are they sure they've returned the proper glass to me? Some people backwash into their drink and I surely don't want that glass back.

Another thing. Buffets are horrid. I don't go unless I'm forced to. The people who frequent buffets sometimes treat them as if it is their own personal buffet. They dip their 'pinky' finger (less germs on that one?) into the salad dressing to sample the taste. They grab vegetables with their fingers. They jump the line. They let their kids help themselves or worse yet, hold up the line while trying to make up their minds. Everyone knows that a child, faced with too many decisions, cannot make up their foreskin' mind! Just set the grubby little monsters at the table and go make their damn plate. You know what they want to eat!! Don't worry...you have time, they won't run out of food. IT'S A BUFFET...THERE WILL STILL BE FOOD THERE FOR YOU WHEN YOU RETURN FOR YOUR OWN DINNER! So, after I eat I'm in the bathroom peeing. And in comes a woman with a herd of kids. I hurry to leave the stall until I realize they aren't there to use the toilet, but instead, they've come to wash their hands. And by the sound of it, I'm safer right where I am. While I hover I'm thinking, "Good job Mom, makin' those children wash up before the buffet!" Washing business completed, they leave the restroom and I exit the stall. The entire floor was wet with soap and water, there were towels all over the floor and the water was still dripping. As I left the restroom I glanced at the diners, in case I could deliver the Mother a scathing, disgusted look, and guess what?? Yup, no Mom and kids. She made them wash up AFTER they ate. I guess she didn't want them to dirty up her car upholstery. Never mind the boogers they probably smeared on the buffet tongs. Ew.

It also bugs me when I inadvertently set off the panic button on my key fob. For some reason it's MUCH harder to turn it off than it is to set it off. Either that, or I come out of the store/office/house to find my trunk standing wide open. Argh. Yesterday, I was calling on a new account and sure as shit...I hit that dinky little button. Of course everyone behind the big glass windows turned to stare. When I came into the building the receptionist smiled and said, "Now that you've got our attention, who would you like to speak with." *sigh*

But not everything bugs me these days. Some things entertain me. Last night, Jason's baby brother, who is staying with us, complained that he didn't feel so good. When I asked what was wrong he couldn't pin-point the exact ailment, just said he didn't feel well. I told him to relax on the sofa and maybe he'd feel better. About 5 minutes after laying down, he poked his little head up and proclaimed that his "food sack" area hurt, and made a circling motion around his navel. THAT made me smile. Then he asked for a pickle. I told him okay, but he had to wash his grubby little hands first. Pickles must be a 'food sack' illness remedy. Who knew?

Hmmm?

2006-06-13T07:45:00.000-07:00

I don't usually take these things seriously, but this one hits a bit close to home considering what I wrote yesterday. Don't you think?

Dear Kari,

Here is your horoscope for Tuesday, June 13:

Your independence and fearlessness are your most dominant traits. This combination leads you into all kind of interesting places. Unfamiliar territory may be a little spooky at first, but press on with this venture.

What happened to the old me? The fun, spontaneous one?

2006-06-12T14:37:00.000-07:00

Evidently I cannot roller-blade. I can roller 'skate' sorta, but the skill to ride the wild blades escapes me. In a moment of insanity, as the evil neighborhood children were whirling around me, gracefully rolling backwards and then tauntingly twisting 'round to face the front again, I decided that I too could roller blade. I am a risk taker, I'm fun, I'm gutsy.

Damn. Those wheels are really rolley. Who knew? It looks so easy. People roll by my house all the time. Not even taking advantage of the safety of the sidewalk. They roll right on the road. A dance of arms and legs swinging to a silent tempo only the roller can hear. Swish, roll, swish, roll. So graceful.

I wanna do that. I've always wanted to do it. Sadly, I must concede that I'm not nearly as coordinated as I once was. I'm afraid to fall. What if I break my ass...then what? No sex? No work? No sitting in the lawn chair, feet propped by the fire-pit drinking beer? The sheer magnitude of a broken ass leaves me chilled to the bone. When did I develop this fear of being hurt? I used to throw myself into life with unrivaled gusto. Now, when someone mentions something slightly, very slightly dangerous or simply new....I get a case of the screaming shits. All those worries surface and I'm just certain that something bad will happen. Wanna drive across the USA? Nah, I don't know where all the rest areas are. Wanna boat all day and then go camp on a sandbar? Oh God no...bugs, wet sand in my sleeping bag, snakes, bad weather, not to mention NO BATHROOM. It's a veritable chamber of horrors out there. Wanna fuck random guys just for attention and good sex? Hell no! One guy is enough for me. Fat rolls, unshaven legs, possible sweat, STD's. See?? I'm fearful of everything.

Someday, maybe I'll rediscover my 'old' self. Or should I say my 'young' self. I know she's around here somewhere. Bitch.

All stray children will be caught and sold as slaves.

2006-06-08T08:38:00.000-07:00

When Jason moved in he believed that living next to his brother would be kinda cool. It took about 1 full month to debunk that belief. Our driveways are RIGHT next to one another. In fact, they are so close, if you didn't know better you'd swear it was one big driveway. Except ours is new. Brand new, no cracks, beautiful, heavenly smooth and flawless concrete. But I digress.

They have two children. Five and three. Boys. ALWAYS outside. Always into things. Most frequently things in our yard. For instance. When we moved the deck back into position after the mud bog fiasco, we borrowed my Dad's drill. Part-way through the process we decided to pull the deck back into place with the truck so we stopped removing boards. We left the drill lay on the deck, jumped into the truck and went to my Dad's to borrow his Come-Along. It's a chain thingy that attaches to something stationary and ratchets other thingys into place...things that are too heavy to simply push, or pull. Quite handy. We were gone a total of 1/2 hour and when we got back the drill was missing. The expensive Dewalt drill with the extra battery pack. I was certain that it was stolen, never to be seen again. Jason, on the other hand, was quite certain that it had become a "gun" for his nephews. Sure enough, after cornering the older one, he admitted using it to drill big holes into the wet dirt behind the fence. Then tiring of it, he left it there so that if it rained it would be ruined and I would have to replace it. Well, he didn't actually say that but I'm sure that's what he meant. We cleaned it up and put it in the house where we should have put it earlier I guess.

The next day, they decided to use our grill to make mud pies and emptied a couple of flower pots worth of dirt into the charcoal holder of the smoker grill. It was just screaming MUD PIE ME...rainwater had collected I guess. Yesterday the door from my deck lantern was in the middle of the yard and the lantern was tipped over. I have hammock swing in one of the trees, the very same tree that is surround by strips of bark that have been forcibly pulled from the tree trunk. This morning, a bowl of dry cereal in my window-well, for the ants I guess, and a bag of pretzels laying in the driveway with a tiny skateboard.

And it's not just the kids. I had to ASK for my lawn furniture to be returned from their backyard, and car trunk. The nifty set of girl-tools I was given as a gift, are no longer in the nice case they came in, they are spread all over and unaccounted for. They were borrowed to fix a motorcycle. Not to mention that each time I want to mow, I have to rescue our mower from behind their garage, reset the cutting height and drag it back to my house before I can begin. Our hose is used to wash cars, fill hot-tubs and kiddie pools and on a couple of occasions, OUR water spigot. My car has been scratched, Jason's truck has been scratched...banged into with bikes, scooters and run-away skateboards. If we don't lock our doors. They just come in. Kid's and adults. When I get home, they follow me up the driveway for a snack. They lick their grimy little fingers and smear my back door window. They've even been spotted peeing from my deck. A couple of times, while fighting amongst themselves, they yell through our window for refereeing services.

They have a large, fenced in yard with a hot-tub, tree fort, sandbox and swing set. That is where they keep the ignored Beagle/Basset dog when it's not locked in the hot garage. Yes, it's the dog that we kept, house-trained and loved up, all winter. Jason's brother took it back, to punish us I guess, when Jason told him to keep his kids in his own yard.

Suggestions anyone?? Besides moving, which isn't an option. And a fence, not an option either...our driveways bump up against one another, concrete to concrete.

Snips and Snails and Satan's Tail.

2006-05-31T12:57:00.000-07:00

I have the utmost respect for those of you who have children AND actually travel long distances in a car with those children. My brain is still sizzling from the immense amount of self-control it took for me to maintain my sanity, patience and good-humor.

The trip down was relatively quiet. Nephew was well-behaved and quite charming. It was almost as if he knew that once we were there, we'd be stuck with him. Once we arrived his whole demeanor changed. It's sad to say but I believe that child could be a sociopath in training. And I'm not being facetious. He is selfish on a level I've never seen demonstrated by a child. He is constantly worried about 'his fair share' even when, by all appearances he's gotten it. He argues and debates beyond what I'd consider normal for a child of that age. Every time he opens his mouth a lie comes out. At first I thought it was a competitive thing. Then he lied and told his Grandma that JJ's little brother shoplifted from the corner store. He stuck to this story for at least a half an hour, adding to the story as the accused would attempt to defend himself to his mother. For instance, he even went so far as to say "You told me not to tell your Mom, remember??" After it appeared that the accused was in some incredibly hot water he finally confessed that he was 'just kidding'. He stole a young girl's cell phone and swore up and down that he didn’t know where it was. That is, until the next morning, when told he couldn't have breakfast until he found the phone, and it mysteriously turned up in his back-pack. He had no idea how that happened of course. One evening while playing with two other children, he decided something wasn't going his way and pretended to kill himself under the bed. He pretended so successfully that one of the little girls struggled to lift a bunk bed off him while another little guy went for help from the adults. Even when confronted by an adult he continued with the charade and kept his eyes closed and breathing shallow. Shortly after that, he covered his head with a blanket after announcing that he was going to kill himself by choking on a small toy. The adults kept a close eye on him but no one reacted to his second lie. JJ and I were VERY upset and surprised but JJ's Mom confessed, that JJ's sister had warned her mother this boy had some behavioral problems. At school one day, he pulled his penis from his pants and told some classmate to "Suck it, bitch". How he has managed to stay in school is beyond me. He does have attention deficit, or should I say, is being medicated for it at least. I have to wonder.

I could go on for several paragraphs. I won't. Suffice it to say, the child has some serious issues. He is seven-years-old. The thing that bothers me most is his lack of remorse. His lack of tears. Even when confronted and punished he doesn't cry or act sorry. He just sits there staring unemotionally at the floor until the moment has passed.

I realize that I shouldn't sit in judgment as I don't even have a child but, damn, something is going on and it's not good. I would deal with this child in an entirely different manner than everyone else is doing. AFTER speaking with a child psychologist. After getting that person's advice AND making several appointments for the boy. Is he a product of his upbringing? Or was he born this way? What makes a child turn into a monster? Once the transformation's begun is it possible to 'fix' the child? My heart hurts for him and yet, at the same time, I don't even want him near me. I'm ashamed to say that but it's the truth. And the sad thing is, unless he changes he will grow up friendless and ignored. Who knows what will happen then.

Foul Food. I Mean Soul Food.

2006-05-24T13:39:00.001-07:00

Tomorrow night we leave for Jackson/Brandon Mississippi. We will be taking along, one ten-year-old, sassy, ADHD child and if he doesn't sleep the entire way we will bind him with duct-tape and stow him in the trunk. Just kidding...duct tape might rip the skin from his face and that would be, well, mean.

Once the child is deposited at the grandma's house JJ and I plan to enjoy ourselves for a couple of days. He wants to fish and introduce me to all sorts of weird southern cuisine. The word crawfish has been bandied about. Something about 'shuckin' and suckin' and 'poop'. As far as I'm concerned the word poop and the word suckin' have no business being in the same sentence but he has assured me that they are very tasty and I will love them. I refuse to eat chitlins or hog maws though. And I won't budge on that one. I will not eat an intestine. Nosiree!!! You and I both know what's been inside intestines and it's not pretty OR tasty. They are just far too close to the bowels in my estimation. Greens I've become accustomed to and they are okay. Provided they aren't too mushy. And seasoned properly. And made with bacon and doused liberally with Tabasco and butter. Now cornbread, I could learn to love that. Anything you cook with oil and can slather in butter is a clear winner in my book. Plus, if it's sweet...that's an added bonus. I always use Jiffy mix but homemade is much better. Catfish is good. But only if all the bones are gone. If I am minding my own damn business, eating along with my mouth politely closed as I chew, and WHAM a fish bone gets in my mouth...I believe the proper southern slang would be "Ahm fixin' ta gag y'all"! Honestly, I've been know to throw away entire cans of tuna if I even suspect that the little white flake I'm seeing could be a bone. Chicken...same thing. I can eat it until a bone shows and then I'm just done. I serve a lot of boneless breasts of chicken in my home. And I make sure there are no veins showing or gristle. Ew. I pretend they are grown that way. Skinless and boneless. Free from imperfection and discoloration. AND I pretend that, at no time EVER, was that breast in front of me a cute and peeping, tiny chick. As long as we're on the subject, I won't eat lamb or veal either. Those are babies!! All the meat I eat is meat that comes from an old animal that has died of natural causes after it's bones dissolved. I'm quite sure of it.

So. I guess that depending on what I'm presented to eat, I will likely shed some pounds. Will I be a size 6 when I return? One can only hope. Have a great Memorial Day weekend! Oh yes, with any luck, there will be concrete tomorrow. I wish you all lived closer so I could throw a 'Hot damn the fuckin' driveway is finally done party!' and you'd all come.

B.O.B.*

2006-05-17T11:14:00.000-07:00

Yes. Still raining.

No. No concrete.

A blast from the past. Being fond of sex. (As we all are.) I admit to being cranky when forced into abstinence. One of the guys I dates was fond of abstinence. I called him Mr. Missionary. Boring as a #2 pencil. As a gag, on Valentines day I bought him a red vibrator. Okay...it was for me. But it seemed like a good way to hint that "HELLO? OUR SEX LIFE COULD BE A TAD MORE ADVENTUROUS!!!" Needless to say, he was scandalized and the offending item was shoved far under the mattress. Outa sight outa mind I guess.

Several weeks later, his 8 year old son walked into the livingroom after watching TV in our bedroom. You guessed it, holding the little red pleasure-torpedo. We were sitting on the floor and his son proceeded to switch it on and off as he questioned his Dad about what it was used for. Dad was mortified and choked on his own spit while trying to find the words to explain. Without missing a beat I piped up and said, "It's the inside of a Tickle Me Elmo doll. Where did you find it? I've been looking all over for it?" Dad, in the meantime, was looking anywhere but directly at the vibrator. Puss.

A couple of weeks later his teen daughter jumped into bed, RIGHT after one of our famously infrequent sexipsodes and loudly proclaimed, "Someone peed in the bed!" Those kids were never allowed into my bedroom again.

Is it just me or shouldn't there be boundaries? I think an adult's bedroom should be sacrosanct.

*Battery Operated Boyfriend

Strangle that *&^%**%$ Mother Nature!

2006-05-12T14:06:00.000-07:00

Yeah...so they won't be pouring the concrete for the driveway any time soon. There is a lake where the mudbog used to be. It's been raining steadily since last night at about 5pm. Muddy water in the basement again. Concrete guys can't come until July now. Or, I can pay much more to get another contractor. Have I mentioned that this sucks?? JJ and his uncle did such an awesome job and now he feels like he's let me down. He hasn't, but try telling him that. Good thing I quit that other NASTY job because if I had to work there AND put up with all this driveway shit, I'd be a monster bitch.

Life is good.

2006-05-11T07:29:00.000-07:00

We're in the home stretch. The driveway/mudbog/foundation repair will be 95% complete on Saturday. I cannot explain how happy I will be to have it done. I've wiped dozens of muddy doggy feets, mopped my floor more times this past couple of weeks than in the last two years, I've swept, I've vacuumed, I've scooped muddy slime from the basement floor. I've whined, bitched, pissed and moaned but I'm eternally grateful for the hard work of both JJ and his Uncle Virgil. I owe them big time. After the driveway is poured, the deck will be put back in place and then I can make brats on the charcoal grill. I've been craving them.

On top of all this, JJ's sister and her son have been staying with us. They aren't a problem at all and his nephew has the most infectious laugh. He's a good kid. She ditched an abusive relationship and came home to Wisconsin to be near her family. She's a pretty great person. She's motivated and hardworking. Not one of those lazy 'feel sorry for me types'. I like her. We found a cute little bungalow style house, in her price range, and she's tickled pink. It's in a decent neighborhood, no lease, a car and a half garage AND best of all a washer and dryer. But she needs everything. Have you ever thought about all of the things you need to start a household?? My God, it's staggering. Things like silverware and wooden spoons, spatulas, soap mop, broom and all that good stuff. I've asked everyone I know to dig through and clean out their cabinets and closets. Everyone except my BFF, she contributed quite heavily when I had a needy renter...so I'm sure she's wiped out of all her 'extras'. I'm giving up spare bed and all it's linens so they have a place to sleep. It's the bed my Mom loaned me when I started over after 10 years of marriage to an abusive jackass...so it's only fitting that it goes from me, to another, in the same position. I hope that she'll be happy and start to feel worthwhile again. Being in an abusive relationship does that to a person. You get so beat down. She actually asks if it's okay to stay up and watch the news. I remember being in that same position, will NEVER allow it to happen again and if it's within my power to help a person in that same situation, I will do it happily.

So that's what's new with me. Admittedly, I've not been by your blogs much lately. Between the new job and the house issues I've not had a lot of time. So what's new with you? I'm going to make an effort to read everyone on my blogroll this weekend. MWAH!

Thank you...and vote for me, I guess!

2006-05-08T06:47:00.000-07:00

I've been nominated for The Really Fuckin' Stupid Blog awards. This is a miracle considering I'm not even able to make the code work within this post. So you can vote here~I Mei Pensieri or, over to the right and down a bit, there's a cute little button. Click there and then you can email her your vote. I'll be casting votes for my favorites who've been nominated.

Mug bog at my place!! Leave your teeth at home.

2006-05-03T14:19:00.000-07:00

Ellen Degeneres makes me happy when she dances. David Duchovny is hot. House of D is one of the best movies I've watched in a long time. And there's always the popsicles.

I'm trying to focus on things that are pleasant. Unfortunately I'm having a bit 'o bad luck these days. Not with the new job. Things there are great. It's the driveway. Or the fiasco I like to call "My Own Private Mud Bog". The concrete came up and the Bobcat went down. And down and down. As Maja would say..."Everyone loves a good bog!" Well not me. Not so much. Apparently the ground my home sits on, in the city mind you, was once a marshy area. And the person who poured the last driveway didn't know much about how to do it properly. Underneath the concrete is a giant mud hole. We've dug (okay the guys) have dug down about 4 feet and the dirt is still soaking wet. Wet enough that the foundation on my house, from years of being soaked, literally fell to pieces when the dirt was removed. Yes. I have gaping holes in the foundation of my home. Huge. Gaping. HOLES!!! They aren't severe enough that they come through to the inside of my basement but, tell that to my subconscious who schedules nightly dreams about the collapsement (and yes, I know that's not a word) of my house.

Two, and more to come, dumptrucks of huge rocks have been delivered and will have to be spread and made into a road of sorts, to allow for the removal of the mountains of black sludge they've dug up. It is a NIGHTMARE. We are making arrangements for a new wall to be constructed along that entire side of the house. Pouring of the driveway will be delayed by at least a week. Here's the REALLY good news. It's supposed to rain for a couple of days. So 1 1/2 of my basement walls are exposed to the elements and HAVE I MENTIONED THE GAPING HOLES?? Times like this make me ask "Why me?", and then I realize...I'm alive. I have a home. It's a nice home. I have a private mud bog, a really great guy, a healthy family and a new job working with people who smile. It could be worse. But as a woman, I have a right to whine. Men get to pee standing up, which is uber-convenient. We get to whine. So I shall.

So I'm sitting outside feeling sorry for myself, whining in my head because Lord knows that everyone else is sick of hearing it. I'm staring at the hole that was once a driveway and the old, nosy neighbor from down the street comes over. He states the obvious. "Wellll Missy, ya sure made a big 'ol mess here", earning him a vicious glare and a flapping of my well-manicured middle finger to his slightly-humped, turned back of course. Then he proceeds to tell me that #1 it is too cold for sandles #2 I have small toes compared to his...and his toe nails are due for their 6 week trim #3 Portions of my home burned at one time. As I stared at him with my jaw hanging open, he spit on me accidentally and then his teeth almost fell into my lap! Lucky for him he sucked them back up just in the nick of time. If they had fallen on me, I would have chucked them right into the muddy hole and laughed maniacally. I'm nice that way.

Flight of the purple popsicle.

2006-05-01T11:05:00.000-07:00

I've said this before and I'll say it again. I love popsicles. The cheap ones in the plastic tubey thing. Except, of course, when I puke them up through my nose after a good drunk. Then I like them...not so much.

Having two dogs in the house is a new thing for me. I've always had lots of cats. But never more than one dog. It's a lot of work. Eight feets to wipe. Two baths. Two food dishes. Twice as much water drooled on the floor...not to mention the toilet ring if you don't take precautions. Two pups to put out for peeing. Twice the pooper-scooper duties. It's very busy work you know. Then there's the dog-fighting. The tall dog is very sproingy. When the short dog gets the best of the tall dog, the tall dog LEAPS to the nearest piece of furniture. In a single bound. As I said. She's quite sproingy. From mid living-room to the back of the sofa. Presto, she's there. And unfortunately it doesn't matter who, or what, is in her way.

So there I sit. Minding my own business. Watching a little "Sell This House" slurping on a purple popsicle. INCOMING!!!! Before I could even react I've got a lap full of Coon Hound and a face full of purple popsicle juice. Juice that splattered me when the popsicle hurtled from the plastic tube. Juice that is my favorite part of the popsicle experience! I'm trying to shove her off and she's busily licking my face and my fingers. Damn dog.

Later, when I try to turn the channel...nothing. Sticky buttons. In fact, several parts of the remote are sticky. So I licked it off. I realize there are such things as towels. Or wet wipes. But I would have had to get up. If I get up, one of the dogs steals my chair. Bunchadamnanimals!!

Hillbilly ingenuity...

2006-04-25T16:14:00.000-07:00

Brief update on the job front~Doing well. Yesterday was a tough day. When you realize how much you have to learn and everyone is busy conducting business while you are forced to read the company policies handbook it is a bit depressing. I'm being impatient, I know, but I'm not good at feeling unproductive. There's also the little issue of the two employees who stole ALL customer files and contact lists for the new business that they planned WHILE they were working for my new boss. This came to light in the couple of days prior to my start date. Needless to say there were a lot of private dicks, cops and attorneys in attendance on my first day! Today was MUCH better. I just decided to "just do what I do" and went ahead and started contacting people. A lot of questions came up and I just ran around until I got answers. No one complained so I assume at this point things are okay. Office is grand. I am going to ask for a head set for my phone though. I have a monstrous headache from being on the phone all day. But I got requests for a new web design AND I got a request for a bid for the local newspaper, which is awesome because that means there will be 30 sales people out selling my product to their clients and I will make commissions on their sales. Super!

We are starting the demolition of my existing driveway. I've always wanted to live on the water but instead I just get water in my basement. And I've already told you how icky it is down here in the peter-pulling chamber, so I'm looking forward to dropping the 10G's on the new concrete and foundation sealing. With this demolition comes the supervising of the men who perform the dirty work. I'M the supervisor. It's really something to watch when the 'ol hillbilly ingenuity kicks in. Two sides of the house are going to have to be trenched out and unfortunately on one side is my deck. It's a floating deck and the original plan was to simply lift it up and lean it against the nearby tree however, that proved next to impossible. Much heaving, grunting, sweating and swearing took place before the lifting and leaning plan was abandoned. They finally jacked it up, hooked it up to the back of his truck and literally jerked it to another part of the yard. The old neighbors, old as in crotchety, and I pulled up our lawn chairs for the entertainment. Much to my amazement, JJ was able to accomplish this without getting any dirt on his "for good" (his words) tennis shoes. So now my backyard is in total disarray and features a ton of little flags the Digger's Hotline people posted when they checked for power, gas and phone lines. I'm left wonder how the deck will be jerked back into place.

In the way of news, folks...this is it. Hugs! I'm missing reading about all y'alls but plan to catch up soon. Can't tonight. American Idol and House you know.

Coming to you, live, from the Masturbatorium.

2006-04-23T07:48:00.000-07:00

Yes! I've finally had the internet hooked up at home. I had it disconnected when my idiot ex announced his Canadian love affair and subsequent porn addiction. I sure as hell wasn't enabling, by paying for internet, his dalliances. But now I'm online and intend to do my posting from home. It's rather chilly here in the peter-pulling chamber, and the cat litter needs to be cleaned, so don't expect a long post. I just wanted you to know that I'm a bit preoccupied and nervous about starting the new job tomorrow but I am around. I'm going to take a shower, switch the laundry over, change the litter and go outside to enjoy the sun. Right after I catch up on what y'all have to say! Have a great Sunday!

This is my second post. Blogger ate the first. Bastards.

And a zen lifestyle goes out the window...

2006-04-13T07:15:00.000-07:00

To preface this with a disclaimer seems necessary because I'm not usually a bitchy, snarky person...really, I'm not. Okay...well maybe a little, but only when pushed. Honest.

On my way home last night I drove past the person that my husband decided he must have sex with. She actually waved! WHAT is up with that?? Honestly, she is SUCH a fat, stinkin', whore that it makes me sick to think that my mondo-mega-asshole ex had sex with her and then with me. Rest assured...I've been to the clinic and everything checked out okay but, EW! EW! EW! EW!

As I came down the block I thought that I recognized her car and then BLAM there she was sportin' a skin-tight screeeeammming yellow, not just bright, but insulting-the-optic-nerve-bright yellow shirt with her gigantic, torpedo tits stickin' over the center line. Black elastic-waist slacks and orthopedic shoes completed the ensemble. Of course, it was hard to distinguish her hooters from the second set of tits hanging directly below the first and from her polyester clad F.U.P.A. * but they were on top so I assumed they were the original set. She smiled her smile that loudly proclaims, "Hi y'all I can eat corn through a picket fence!" and then she waved. How she could blow a guy (which she does with the slightest encouragement in a variety of unsavory locations) without damaging soft tissue is beyond me. She has one fucked-up set of choppers. A less sane a more emotionally twisted person would have accidentally swerved but I didn't want torpedo sized dents in my new car. Skank.

In other news my ex finally sent me money for the car he took. Sure it was only $35 and he did write, "Whore's car payment" on the top of the money order but he sent money and as long as he does he can write whatever the hell he wants on the money order. I'm sure I'll never get another unless I go out of my way to make his life miserable. At this point, I've come to the realization that it's not worth the time and effort it takes to get it. It makes me miserable and angry, and throws off my chi to deal with him, so I'm moving on. He can have the fuckin' thing. I hope a boulder slips off the mountain and smashes it into smithereens or someone sprays it with random fire from a submachine gun. Bitter? Indeed. And I shall spew such bitterness for a bit longer and then I'll let that go too. You know...the whole Zen thing. I can't help it if every once in awhile something gets stuck in my craw and causes a raging case of verbal vomit can I?

*Fat upper pussy area.

Reflections

2006-04-12T07:37:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was my birthday. And no, I'm not telling how old I am. However, I will tell you this...my blog is a year old. I've had so much fun with this. Who knew? Today, to celebrate I will have a pedicure. Well, to celebrate and to waste time. I found out that as of the day I quit, I will not get paid on any commissions that come in. I'm having issues with this because I believe, rightfully, I should get paid on all completed contracts for 1st quarter. But that's a rant for another post. So, petty though it may be, I plan to get a pedicure from my favorite guy, Kae. He is STUPENDOUS and gives a great foot massage. I dare say that it's almost orgasmic. I will of course take care of any of my clients needs but I'm not planning on being an overly aggressive salesperson during my remaining time. Maybe to celebrate spring I'll get some darling little posies painted on my piggies. You'll have to forgive me...I'm quite tired today.

Admittedly, I'm now having a few regrets. I am the most senior person here and the new sales manager seems like he's going to be a great guy. He's the only person who's really given a shit if I leave or not, and has asked if I could be persuaded to stay. Well, aside from my fellow salespeople that is. He's very motivational but in my experience and as a good friend reminded me, "You cannot change the 'culture' of a company." unless of course it comes under entirely new ownership. And that's not happening. I'm also suffering from the big fish in a little pond syndrome. Here, I'm the go-to girl. I'm the one that everyone comes to for problems big and small...questions, concerns, assistance. I will miss that. This job is easy for me and I'm obsessing about becoming the small fish and having to learn an entirely new language so to speak. So today I vacillate. Quite possibly because I'm exhausted. Great thunderstorm last night, able to have the windows open but, the dogs were restless and so was JJ. I didn't really sleep after 1am and didn't go to bed until 11pm. If I were really lazy and looking for retribution regarding the commission issue, I'd find a nice park and catch a few z's. Too bad my conscience won't allow that.

Southern Fried Testicles.

2006-04-10T14:38:00.000-07:00

Over the weekend we went to a birthday party for JJ's nephew. For the first time in about 15 years 90% of his "southern" siblings were in one place. He has twin sisters, a brother and a step-sister who were all in attendance. Lot's of teasing, bickering and reminiscing took place. It was fun for me to sit back and watch how they relate. And to attempt keeping up with the southern slang. Gads...it's a whole different language.

At one point, his brother took his sister for a motorcycle ride. Her hesitation was great and with good reason. She really should have known better. Both of the boys have crotch-rockets/cafe style bikes...whatever you want to call them, and they both ride like they're being pursued by the devil himself. Of course, to those of us watching it appears that they have a death wish. Both wear leathers and helmets, and are safety conscious, but still. It's scary.

So his sister jumps on the back of the bike continuously delivering threats and dire warnings to his brother regarding his testicles and what she'd do to them should he "Go too fast"~and away they go. It starts out quite peacefully. You can hear them going across the yard and onto the road. I guess the devil must have decided to give chase because as they came back past the house with the motor seemingly pushed to it's limit (according to him, 1/2 it's limit) all you could hear was the loud exhaust and what sounded like a siren, first quiet, building to a crescendo and then fading as they moved further down the road. It was his sister. I didn't know a human could scream so loud and so long. She rivaled a great opera singer holding that last clear note. I was impressed. If her throat isn't sore today I'd be very surprised.

In other news, I've decided to write a children's book. Actually, it's already written. The little gal who lives in my apartment is going to illustrate it. It was her pet that went missing and inspired the story. AND she's a great artist. So...in addition to starting a new job, I'm going to investigate how to accomplish this. Any suggestions you might have would be welcome.

2006-04-06T14:28:00.000-07:00

It's really amazing how crap much you can accumulate in 10 short years. I have a desk FULL of memories, sales literature, salt, pepper, condoms (!!) deodorant and antacid. It's official. I've accepted the position. All that's left is to give my notice, which is an event planned for Friday.

My new employer readily agreed to all the requests I made in my counter offer and I signed off on the new agreement today. He complimented me on my negotiations skills too, which was a very nice thing to hear considering that they've been questioned so much as of late. It's kind of like being married to an abusive person. They beat you down and grind your self-esteem into dust until you feel like the most ignorant, unimportant person in the world.

When I stopped in he showed me my office, ground floor, two doors down from him and completely empty because....THEY ARE ORDERING EVERYTHING NEW!! Including, his words "A nice cushy chair." He asked if a glass desk would be okay because the modular ones that he had been providing are no longer available. After working in an office, on a desk that is part collapsible table, with my computer propped on a stack of copier paper to keep the screen at a decent level I assured him that whatever he provided would be a step up. I'm still somewhat stunned by what beautiful office I'll be moving too. He even asked if I wanted the walls another color. Everything is ivory now, one wall a really soothing moss green sports some great black and white framed art. My lap-top and palm/cell are killer and I can hardly wait to get my hands on them. He offered to let me take them home this weekend but I'm going to wait until Monday.

So this is my little update. Thank you all for your kind, encouraging words and shared experiences. I love that you care and take the time to leave comments.

Fear of the unknown.

2006-04-03T13:44:00.000-07:00

As of this morning I've been officially offered the job that I interviewed for. In a nutshell, this company has no sales people, the owner doesn't have time to pursue sales the way that it should be done and he's got a veritable gold mine on his hands. I'm very excited at the prospect of getting into this at ground level and being a part of the instrument that will allow his company to explode. From the way it sounds I will work directly with one Marketing and one Creative person, who will be my support staff and work with me to accomplish this. His desire is for us to develop a plan that will introduce his company and it's services to the public on a much broader level, and to spearhead the implementation of the plan, thereby allowing him to grow beyond his current walls. It's a young company. Only in existence since '93 but he shared his annual income with me to illustrate how he's grown. He's already got another building picked out and is willing to move if we add the business to justify that expense. We've already asked for corner offices.

He has offered a bit less than what I make now but the potential for higher annual commissions is there. His benefits are lacking compared to my current benefit package, but I plan to counter offer with a higher salary requirement to offset the expenses I will have to take on myself. I'm quite confident he will agree.

His expectations seem realistic and easy enough to attain. He realizes he needs help and we ARE that help. So why am I nervous? Besides the fact that it's no longer TV that I will be selling. Why do I shudder to think that I will fail? What is it that makes me feel like I'm silly to give up the position I know so well, to take on the unknown? How do I rid myself of that fear and be like so many other successful people who simply jump into the abyss and and then end up succeeding beyond their wildest dreams? I'm such a NON-risk taker. I'm a wuss. I'm afraid to fail. I have until Wednesday to make a decision.

I've finally gotten off my ass.

2006-03-29T08:27:00.000-08:00

You know things are getting bad when there are employees sitting in the front lobby of the office perusing the help wanted ads. Or a gaggle of oldsters standing around the coffee machine discussing how long they have to stick it out until retirement. I'd like to say that the moral around here has improved since the Bad Cop was let go, but it really hasn't. For a couple of weeks everyone was cheery and bright. They were ready to take on the world and slay dragons for the new boss, but all that has passed. Now it's more like, let's throw the boss into the ravenous dragon's den. I don't believe it's necessary to rehash all of his and this companies alleged 'sins' here in this blog but suffice it to say that after 10 long years of my 18 year media-related, sales career, I've been interviewing. This is why the long absence from blogging. Refreshing a resume, or shall I say actually making an entirely new resume, coming up with cover letters to dazzle and impress and evaluating the ads for hours at a time is rather time consuming. Who knew?

I know this job inside-out, backwards, forwards and in my sleep. I walk the walk, talk the talk and I can hold my own in any media focused conversation or debate. Unfortunately for me, I've signed a no-compete, so I can't go to another media outlet within this market. And actually, I don't really want too. So this leaves me terrified. I'm not good with the unknown. I know that I have the capability to transfer this experience into another avenue but it's just so...uncertain.

So, I sent my resume Friday at 4pm, I got an email Monday at 8a and interviewed yesterday at 2pm. The company is pretty amazing, offices are kick-ass, opportunities abound and today he called to tell me he's writing up an offer and could I meet with him Monday. This company does everything from print a business card to life size posters, POP product, web design, catalog production...it made my head spin and he didn't seem entirely certain what he wanted me to do for him. I had initially applied to fill the position of Marketing Professional. His definition and mine were miles apart and suffice it to say, I'm not qualified to do what his definition of marketing was. Nor would I want too. I am very qualified in other areas which he desperately needs help with. Both of us were semi confused by time the interview ended. His response was "You've certainly given me a lot to consider. Could we meet to talk again next week?" And now the offer. I'm not ready for the offer. Nothing was resolved. I don't even know what I interviewed for other than I'm qualified to help him in various ways. This should be interesting. I'll keep you posted.

By the way....all the offices have french doors, carpet, chrome/glass-topped desks, windows with views and cushy chairs. Ultra modern and clean. Love it!!

A day in the life...

2006-03-22T08:12:00.000-08:00

I've not written a lot lately. Probably because not much is funny and I wouldn't want to bore you with un-funny stuff. And then there's the fact that I'm lazy. But now I feel guilty for not writing. So I'm going to proceed to bore you. Live with it.

My sister has birthed anotha child! She's a regular bunny. This makes 5...FIVE...children in her house. Imagine hard wood floors, cathedral ceilings, marble countertops and 5 kids screaming. It's like a freakin' echo chamber. I love them all to death but damn, by time I leave there my blood pressure is soaring. They are good kids though, really good, and she's incredibly lucky to have them. I'm very envious. However, if they were my kids, I'd have those little egg crate thingy's all over the walls.

Last night, I had to put the garbage out. BY MYSELF. We cleaned the garage over the weekend so there was A LOT of it. So much, that I wondered if they'd even haul it away or maybe even fine me for excess crap-piling at the curb. The good news is...some dumpster diver, in the dark of night stole, STOLE some of my garbage. I'm sure the garbage men thank them. They took a shelf that was out there and a tackle box that had some mangled, nasty tackle and a couple of dead, dried-out minnows in it. There was also a snow shovel and an old bucket but I guess no one wanted that. A coat too. I was hoping someone who needed a coat would take it because again, I'm lazy, and didn't feel like taking it to Salvation Army.

Jason was stranded in Illinois, in a blizzard, for two days. I had popcorn and ice cream bars for dinner while he was gone...yes, for two days. Seeing a theme here? Lazy?? Oh yeah. I also finished off a stale box of Good and Plenty. And one chocolate Reisen. The dogs were very out of sorts. Wondering where the man/daddy was. They looked out the windows a lot. Stood over top of me while I ate my popcorn...literally staring into the bowl. I guess they wanted to share. They wrestled incessantly, fought over the rawhide chips I threw down in an effort to distract them and had a stand-off with Shake, my cat, when he was laying by the rawhide. He was too scared to move and they were too chicken to steal it from him. Cowards. Oh yes, and they ran away each time I let them out. I've been all around the neighborhood in my pajamas. Now I know you're probably wondering why I didn't just hang onto them so they couldn't run away, right? Well I trust them. Probably why I've been married twice. I trust too easily. The thing I wonder about is why the idiots I married didn't run away. Well okay, one did for the internet chick in Canada and I left one on account of his gun-shaking habit. That and the furniture throwing thing. Oh yeah and the stalking. Moral of the story. Eating popcorn for two nights does not a pleasant bathroom experience make and stop trusting so easily. AND don't get married again. Check.

Well, I've exhausted myself writing this riveting synopsis of my days. If you're lucky, I'll write again soon.

Of all the people we can admire...

2006-03-20T07:14:00.000-08:00

There are so many famous people to admire. People like Ralph Waldo Emerson, Maya Angelou and William Blake just to name a few. Their words live on in our minds and in our hearts. I'd like to take a few moments to recognize some people whose words will live on for me. There is much greatness among ordinary people. I believe many times we forget to look for that 'something special' in each individual we meet. I, for one, vow to be more vigilant about doing so.

"So love in and of itself isn't a good measure for me. I'm easily impressed, and entertained by a man. Could I find someone that I could fall in love with? Probably. I fall in and out of love easily. So fuckin' fickle. Could I find someone that I respect more than my husband? No. Could I find someone that I trust more than him? Probably not." ~~Jackie

"...loving with all my heart while it broke...and clinging while having to be willing to let her go. "~~Bob

"...my deepest fear is that I have nothing of importance to say. Days when the only humor I find is in the memories left behind from better days, scattered about like toys abandoned in an empty house."~~KaraMia

"Luxuries, once attained, become necessities."~~LBB

"be safe in your endeavors and if you need to go all out, you should! be larger than life, at very least, once in your life!!!!"~~Ivar

"WE are full of stars. Let's do something with it."~~Jack

"now tell someone you love them. life is too short."~~Transience

Shove this right up your bitchy ass. And NO you don't get a complimentary hair pull!

2006-03-17T09:26:00.000-08:00

Some workdays are worse than others. I'm a 100% commissioned sales person and lately, there are more 'worse' days. You have to have very thick skin to do this kind of job. Can't be easily insulted or be sensitive about getting your feelings hurt. In other words, if you are part robot, you're good to go! As sales people...I think that advertising executives are a step above Johovah's Witnesses but a step below used car sales people. At least that's what it feels like sometimes.

We're hosting an Advertising Presentation. We sent out about 100 invitations per sales person with RSVP's. The event is next Tuesday so we're busily jabbing sharp sticks into our eyes, I mean, we're calling people back today (and yesterday) to see if they received their bribes, I mean invitations. Only 6 people actually sent the RSVP back. Not good. And hello?? Rude! This is not a fun part of the job. It's like dialing for insults, like asking to be slapped, it's like chewing on glass or offering your nipples up for manipulation with sandpaper. Just for showing up they have a chance to win Packer tickets, or a an MLT travel voucher for $1600. It's 1 1/2 hours long AND they get breakfast or lunch! Hell, they might even enjoy it, right????

So as I dial away the day I hear all kinds of excuses. One *cunt* cough, cough, I mean lady, actually told me that she had 'something going' with one of our competitors because they were the FAR SUPERIOR (insert heavenly music here) station in the market! I've been to meet with this woman no less than 10 times. She's always rude. BUT it is my job to find out why they feel the way they do or in what way they may have been misinformed. So I press on and ask the hard questions. For instance, "Listen you high and mighty, rotund, rude, bitch, did you ever consider that you're making an ignorant statement and an uniformed decision? Put that fuckin' HoHo down! Why can't you give me 20 minutes of your precious HoHo eating time? " Or maybe, "You're a stupid cunt if you think I'm going to take this laying down. Do you realize that we are the #1 Station with Persons 18-49 years of age?! Oh sorry, since you look to be about 75 years old, of course you don't!"

Some days it's just more than I can take. Lately, those days are coming closer and closer together and it worries me. I've been doing this for about 15 years. I'm good at it. Or at least I used to be. More importantly, I like doing it and I believe in the product. But I seem to have forgotten how to 'get the sale' or even the 'appointment'. Either that or the 'sales' are much harder to get now. I'm thinking it's time to re-do my resume. I pride myself on great customer service. I really do give a shit. I want whatever I sell my customer to actually work for them and it bothers me when it doesn't. I spend a lot of time figuring out what will work best for their business. I will go the extra mile to rectify a bad situation should it arise. It really bothers me when people won't even give me the chance to prove that I'm an educated, intelligent person worthy of their respect.

Yes, I've done it...I've put my two cents in about the Idol performers. Live with it.

2006-03-16T08:40:00.000-08:00

Ace Young~You can't really sing but damn, I still want to lick you!
(If you want to lick me call XXX-XXXX.)

Bucky Covington~You can't really sing either, not all that well, but if you fixed your teeth I'd lick you too.
(Do you have a six pack under that shirt? I could overlook the teeth if I had a six-pack to focus on.)

Chris Daughtry~You and your beautiful baldness, sparkling teeth and kick-ass voice have some serious talent.
(You're married for real? Really? Are you 100% sure?)

Elliot Yamin~I know you escaped from your Amish tribe but, it's okay 'cause you can sing.
(I didn't know Amish allowed singing. Is that why you left? Did you sing and they made you go?)

Katharine McPhee~What beautiful big pipes you have. I'd buy your album today.
(You realize if you win there will be much speculation regarding the authenticity of those big hooties, don't you?)

Kelly Pickler~Your cuteness is what's really carrying you sweetums. Your voice is only suited to country. I see a struggle on the horizon.
(Are you really that sweet? Come on now. It's all and act, right?)

Kevin Covais~Others might dig your lispy singing voice and your ugly/scary dance moves but, get off my TV man!
(No one is kidding when they call you Chicken Little. Don't EVER do that hip thrusting thing again. Ew.)

Lisa Tucker~You've got talent and a really large smile.
(If the Mickey Mouse show was still on...you'd be a shoo-in! Are you a cheerleader?)

Mandisa~Your pipes are smokin'!
(You rock those plus sizes baby! Good for you for revealing your lunch lady arms in front of America! You're way braver than I am.)

Melissa McGhee~You are somewhat inconsistent but I don't hate your voice...just your cute, little potbelly.
(What's up with those little belly baring shirts all the time?? Is your stylist responsible or is that a 'you' thing?)

Paris Bennett~Your hippy, hoppy performances and incredible voice are AWESOME!
(Do not...I repeat...do not...sing your responses ever, ever again. You annoyed me and I really, really liked you.)

Taylor Hicks~You are by far my favorite quirkin' and a jerkin' performer. My grin starts to form the minute I know you're up next and I don't stop smiling 'til your done.
(Don't change a thing. Not your style or your hair. You are perfect just the way you are.)

MWAH HA HA HA HA!!!!

2006-03-14T12:03:00.000-08:00

My husbands ex-wife directed me to this site. Go here! To check it out for yourselves. I didn't know something like this existed. And yes...I will be submitting!

(^*&%)**%)()^)+))!!! AND &%$$(%&*(!!!

2006-03-10T11:54:00.000-08:00

Rage. Pure, simple rage is what I'm feeling right now. I long for the day I can be indifferent to the sociopath of an ex-husband, that sorry excuse for a human being, that porn addicted lying, cheating, disgusting pile of skin cells called a human. I hate him. I hate him more than liver and cooked spinach.

I took the time to consult an attorney regarding what can be done about the car he took when he left. The car I paid for of course. The one I signed the title for so he can be the sole owner, because that's what my insurance company told me to do when I tried to take the insurance off it. He signed an agreement saying he'd pay me. He hasn't. The court says he has to. He hasn't. He was supposed to register it in his name. He hasn't. My main concern is getting my name off the title so that if he kills someone in an accident I'm not held responsible because my name is on the title and he's not insured. My attorney said forget about it. That I will spend more money trying to get paid for the car than what I expected to get paid for the car. I only expected him to pay for 1/2 of it. I can't put a lien on it because then it prevents him from changing it to his name and then the accident issue could become a problem unless I'm willing to insure it. A wage garnishment is out of the question because he pays child support on his two kids that I knew about AND the two I didn't, in addition to health insurance for all of his brood, so he's likely under poverty level. I tax lien won't work because I'm not the Federal Govt.. I just have to walk. And you know what?? It's not the money. It's truly not. It's the principal of the matter. The car shouldn't be his. He signed, he agreed to pay. He's not. He's getting away with something again. He always does. And get this! He's supposedly undergoing a background check so he can join some police academy in Phoenix. What a joke. I wish they'd call me as a part of that check. I fuckin' hate him with all I have. Karma. I hope I'm around to see it.

Then, as if I'm not wound up enough, I call the DMV to see how to get my name off the title since I know the sociopath won't remove it and I have to listen to 10 minutes of push this, push that, select 7, blah fuckin' blah blah blah. Don't hang up, you'll further delay your call. Please be patient, our expected wait time is....Arrghhhh!!!! When it finally comes to a point where I can actually elect 0 and ask speak with a human I get this recording that says all of them are busy. I proceed to wait another 10 minutes only to have them hang up on me for some reason. I'd go there in person but I KNOW I'd make a scene and I'm not really mad at them (well okay...a little mad) and it's really not their fault. Then it would be me watchin' my back for karma to strike. Ain't life a bitch?

I got smacked...

2006-03-09T07:09:00.000-08:00

The fine folks at I Talk Too Much took the time to smack me. Thank you to them for the constructive criticism. I promise to take what they said to heart and try, try to figure out how to act on their suggestions. It does take me awhile because I'm computer illiterate for the most part and all the 'codey' stuff is greek to me. HOWEVER, I must leave the design just the way it is. I don't wear leopard print OR hot pink in my real life. I wear it, vicariously, through my little blog!

A great day for a swim!

2006-03-08T09:23:00.000-08:00

Busy, busy, busy! That's what I am. Haven't had much time to post or to check in on you my lovelies...but I do miss you so and will catch up when time allows.

Over the weekend JJ participated in the Polar Plunge which is an awesome fundraiser for the Special Olympics. He raised a good chunk of money and to celebrate, along with 1299 other plungers, he jumped into a chilly 34.5 degree Mississippi River! They raised $130,000.00! Crazies. All of them. I was so cold that had my ass been wet it would have stuck to the aluminum bleachers I was sitting on! Afterwards, while he was warming up in the tent JJ told me that the Special Olympics team came bursting in, sopping wet and cheering themselves on. While they were changing into warm, dry clothes, chattering a million miles an hour their coach came in. Cries of, "Coach, Coach...who won, who won?!" were bounced around the tent until the Coach loudly proclaimed, "You ALL did!!" High fives and slaps on backs were exchanged and out they went.

I'm tellin' ya...I had tears in my eyes when that team jumped. The spirit and excitement they showed made smile. That's exactly the reason that JJ raised money and jumped. He feels that most mentally disabled people WANT to work. They are incredibly motivated despite the challenges they face and want to be a contributing member of society. I have a cousin who has Down's Syndrome, I whole heartedly agree. He LOVES everyone, he loves to work and when he's not working he rides along on his Mom's bus route as the unofficial bus mascot. He's the most loving, pure individual I know. I'm thinking maybe next year....I should jump. Brrr.

Got any spare change??

2006-03-01T13:38:00.000-08:00

So I have this wonderful idea for an invention. And I'm going to share it with you, my fellow bloggers! Don't steal it because I'm going to have it patented right away and I don't want you to get into a legal jam 'cause I will sue your idea-stealin' ass for sure!

I purchased JJ a tanning package for Valentines Day. Last night, when we went to bed, we were discussing how nice the beds were, how nice the facility was etc....I asked if he tanned nude and he said, "Sometimes I do, why are you asking?". It's always been a concern of mine that I not burn my nipples while tanning so I was, of course, concerned for the well-being of his manhood. I mean come on folks, I do like to use it once in awhile after all. I can be concerned right? When I explained my concern he told me there was nothing to worry about. There were a couple of heartbeats of silence, then he sheepishly admitted to wearing his SOCK over his precious junk!

You can probably imagine-this sent me into uncontrollable, rapturous fits of giggling. Once I had myself under control I decided that this would be a FANTASTIC gimmick and we began brainstorming for marketing schemes, design ideas and such. Gotta hit the streets running with this idea.

So this is it.

THE COCK SOCK...DON'T RISK EXPOSURE BY TANNING WITHOUT ONE!

Comes in small, medium, large and for the John Holmes of the world XXXLarge, for those of Asian persuasion, xxxSmall (or so I've heard). I think if would be especially nice if one model is lined with slippery-slidey satin and infused with a heat activated lubricant. For those who want to punish themselves for being vain or maybe for the skin cancer risk they are subjecting themselves to-an unbearably tight lycra model with tiny spikes around the inside edge.

FYI...As a side venture there are plans to design a lightweight, comfy, handy-dandy cheek spreader which will help eliminate those pesky white strips from developing down the length of your ass-crack.

So? Who wants to be on the mailing list? More importantly...who wants to invest in this lucrative business proposition?

Is that you Jesus? On the side of the road?

2006-02-27T08:01:00.000-08:00

JJ is such a good person and honestly, if he won the lottery, he'd give it all to people he deemed needy. He was quite upset when he didn't win this last big Powerball. When he found that his numbers didn't match his first comment to me was, "And I was going to do such good things with that money." as he sadly hung his head. This upcoming weekend he will be taking a dip in the river for the Polar Plunge fundraiser. He cares about people. To a fault.

We rarely disagree about anything. We seem in sync about all the things that matter and for that I'm incredibly eternally grateful. HOWEVER.........when we were on our way home from a day-trip not to long ago, as we approached one of the more secluded exits on the interstate he whipped over to the side of the interstate to pick up a hitchhiker. When I looked up to see what was going on he was looking in his mirror and as I figured out what he was doing I got really pissed. He was absolutely insistent that we pick this man up. It was cold, he was a Veteran trying to get to a nearby town and he was never going to get a ride out there in the middle of nowhere. I was BEGGING him to leave the guy there and all he would say is "Kari, you don't understand, I can't just leave him here!" Much to my chagrin the man entered our car and after expressing his thanks, he showed us his wallet for identification, told us his story and thanked us again, profusely, for picking him up. He was going to the VA Hospital and had gotten a ride from someone who at the last minute took a detour and dumped him on the side of the road. I didn't ask why.

After a few minutes of chat, I asked if he had eaten. He said had. (and he'd had a few drinks by the smell of him!) I didn't relax during the entire trip (20 minutes out of our way) but did have to admit that he wasn't such a bad guy and had apparently fallen on some bad times. How much of the bad times were his fault we'll never know. By the time we got to the next town, I had a RAGING case of the nervous shits and asked JJ to pull into the convenience store so I could use the facilities. While I was inside, JJ gave him all the cash he had in his wallet and they decided between them that he should sleep in the warm laundromat until the VA opened in the morning. The guy thanked us for being so kind then got out. As we pulled away I looked at JJ and told him in no uncertain terms that if he EVER picked up a hitchhiker again while I was in the car, I would get out at the point that the rider got in!!! He could leave me at the side of the road OR, he could leave them.

He was very quiet for a long time and when he finally spoke he asked if I was mad at him. I was more upset than mad. I was scared, begged him not to pick the guy up and he did it anyway. He tried to explain that he just 'knew' it was okay to pick this guy up. He told me that as a truck driver he drives by people hitchhiking all the time and keeps right on going but that he just had to stop this time. He told me of another time when he picked up an old man with a walking stick. The old guy's car had been stolen while attending an out of town funeral, and there was no one on the other end that could come get him so he used his money to buy camping gear/food and decided to have an adventure as he hiked home. He ended up losing it all when a guy picked him up, but took off so quickly when he dropped him off, that he didn't have time to pull his pack from the bed of the pick-up. He took that guy home, fed him, let him shower, grab some sleep and then took him to the bus depot to buy him a one way bus ticket to somewhere in North Dakota. I asked him if he ever heard from the guy again. If the guy had ever tried to contact him to thank him or repay him for the ticket and JJ told me that he wasn't after gratitude and he didn't expect his money returned to him. He just did it because he wanted to.

I tried to impress upon him that as a woman it's a scary, scary thing to let a stranger get into your car. I would NEVER pick someone up for fear of being killed, or worse yet, raped...and I surely didn't appreciate him putting me in that position. He apologized and said that he would never do that to me again. He simply didn't realize that's what I was thinking about. Worry for his safety is a concern of mine too. You just don't know who that person is what what they may do to you! He just couldn't wrap his brain around that one though. He told me that he figures he's done some crappy things in his lifetime and he wants God to forgive him for those things. He wouldn't even look at me while he was explaining himself. He doesn't want to ignore someone in need because he's afraid when he gets to Heaven he will be refused at the gate because he drove by Jesus on the side of the road. He said that he believes he's safe because 'something in his gut' lets him know that what he is doing is okay. How do you argue with someone whose intentions are so pure? How do I make him understand that there are a million ways to help people in need and most of them are much less dangerous? More importantly, how do I make him understand that it could be satan on the side of that road the next time he stops?

I've done my doody!

2006-02-23T11:15:00.000-08:00

Honestly, I have issues with poop. I don't write about it because I'm not really proud of it and I find it a bit frustrating, but it's a slow day and I've nothing else to discuss. For those of you who are of the TMI philosophy...turn away now. Go read another blog.

All through lunch I had those telltale tummy grumblings. Little crampy reminders that something unsavory was on it's way. I held out though like the little pooper-trooper I am and ate my Kewpie Burger w/fried onions before finally relenting and making a visit to the public powder room. It's one of those with only two stalls and of course the other one was occupied. I HATE that! You've done this, I know you have, you try to control the pooflow so that you don't make embarrassing, gaseous rumbles or loud kerplunks which will alert your stall neighbor that you are doing a #2. I did rather well if I do say so myself...didn't even have to resort to the 'ol sound-covering courtesy flush! However, the lady next to me could've done with a couple, or more, courtesy flushes. I swear, some of those little blue-hairs are proud of their honkin' asses. They probably come out and say "Luuuciiile guurl, you shoulda heared me in there, I made sweet doody music with my wrinkled ass-sax!"

Anyhoo, I was in there so long, I didn't want to come out. When this happens I feel as if there is a big sign on my ass that says EMPTY in big bold letters with a jaunty skull and cross bones under it. They really should have special private exits for public long-poopers. Label the special 'out door' PHONE BOOTH or STORAGE or something mundane. I thought I'd come out and my girlfriend would be gone. Not wanting to endure the stares of the other patrons who felt sorry for her because her friend was a long-pooper, she would have up and abandoned her post. Or that the restaurant would have cleared out due to the brown fog seeping under the door. AND, as if that's not bad enough, just when I thought I'd finally finished doing my doody and went to wash my hands, you guessed it, second wave shit strikes and right back in the stall I go. Four hours later I shamefacedly exit pretending to read all the posters along the way, in case it would help me convince everyone that I was really there, doing some light reading of the walls, the entire time.

As I left, I could swear that the little blue-hair winked at me. She probably wanted me to come share with her and Lucille but I've got news for her. I have a much better confidant. I've got the whole damn internet!

The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire...

2006-02-21T12:47:00.000-08:00

This morning I was pushed out of bed at 530am by JJ who was urging me to pull on my pants and find the key to the apartment upstairs. My initial reaction was confusion as to why he wanted my pants ON and not OFF because not being a morning person it does take me a bit to focus, but when he said "Kari, the apartment is on fire!" I bolted from bed into the closest pair of pants I could find. Never mind that they were on my body inside out, pockets flapping in the breeze as I rushed to find the extra key I have. Never mind that they weren't zipped and that one or both dogs had likely slept on them. I was in those pants and right on his heels as he went up the steps to investigate. The second I entered the foyer to the upstairs I could smell smoke. My hands were shakin' like a dog shittin' razor blades while he fumbled with the couple of keys I handed him. Me shouting door-unlocking instructions at him while simultaneously trying to dial 911. Just three little fuckin' numbers but do you think I could get them dialed properly? Oh no. And of course every pet in the house was nosy and followed us to see what all the excitement was about, so it was a very crowded stairwell.

Thankfully, it turned out that the renter left a couple of candles burning in her bathroom (not even the kind in glass jars) and had a little wax melty thing plugged-in which was quite hot and smelly but not on fire. From outside where JJ was, the flickering of the candle flames through the frost on the windows upstairs looked like a fire was raging. I did just whine about the lack of drama in my life, didn't I? Well never mind, I'm cured. That was plenty enough drama to last me a few days. I think it took me a good half hour to stop shaking enough to call my renter and remind her to NEVER, NEVER leave a candle burning unattended. For cryin' out loud...she was gone all night from about 8pm last night and will be gone today until about 9pm. IF she even comes home! I hate to think what might have happened if JJ had not glanced up. I'm sure there WOULD have been a fire.

After my shaky tirade, she apologized profusely and said she wasn't aware that she had left them burning. Said she NEVER leaves them burning and asked which candles were lit. Of course I forgive her. She's a very responsible girl. Hell, she's even called me after leaving in the morning to make sure she unplugged her curling iron, but damn...my pants were on inside out and what if the fireman and the neighbors had seen me like that?! Needless to say, JJ is my hero today and I will be investing in a couple of fire-extinguishers as soon as possible. And yes, I do have smoke detectors and no it didn't occur to me that they weren't going off so there probably wasn't any smoke or a fire. JJ said it was on fire and I took him at his word. I was sound asleep after all.

What is 'normal' anyway?

2006-02-20T09:05:00.000-08:00

You know what? I have nothing to say. Nothing of importance. Nothing entertaining. Lately it seems that everything I have to talk about is inane. And I'd like to think I'm more interesting than that. For instance, I took meat out of the freezer to thaw. I bought a new freezer. I've read about 12 books because it's so fuckin' cold here. I've cut my toenails. Colored my hair. Bought some new mascara. I got some pans for Valentines Day (which are awesome). My goofy dog sat her ass in the back window of the car and put her feet down on the seat. Rode that way for a few miles and it was funny at the time but not really worthy of an entire post. I've cleaned my house, messed it up and cleaned it again.

See what I mean? Inane. My life has reached the point that NOTHING is interesting. Nothing gut-busting funny or overly-dramatic is happening. Nothing you'd really want to read about. BORING! I should update my resume but I've not even taken the time to do that because I'm unmotivated.

Sometimes I wonder if all this 'nothing'...all this 'boring' is normal. I mean, my life has been somewhat chaotic in the past few years and it seems to be peacefully rolling right along now and I'm left feeling I'm bored and unsatisfied. Is that what normal feels like? Should I be feeling thankful?

Show me yours....and I'll show you mine. But only tonight. Not when I'm sober.

2006-02-13T11:04:00.000-08:00

We attended a boat and sport show this weekend. I love to go because of the RV's...they're really fun to snoop through. It amazes me when I see how lavish some are and I harbor a secret desire, that inside one, I will find Ty Pennington and his megaphone. Scantily clad. Not the megaphone...Ty. I never did find Ty, so heart broken and suffering from extreme disappointment I allowed JJ to drag me to a psuedo-chef's demonstration of waterless cookware. I'll be the first to admit it was pretty impressive but after getting the price we hightailed it right out of there as fast as we could go. Me quietly dragging JJ by his sleeve. He is every salesperson's dream. Once he even booked an appointment for a FREE carpet cleaning from the Kirby guy! Duh. He falls for every sales pitch and while I love to cook, and I need new non-teflon pans, there is no way in HELL I'm paying $1,495.00 for a set, even if it does come with a really awesome vegetable cutter and a free ginsu knife.

After we milled around a bit more we decided we'd join a couple of friends at a local bar, she was playing in a poker tourney and he wanted company. I used to work with her, and I still work with him. She won. And being very proud friends we stayed to celebrate. A couple of drinks ended up being an all-nighter followed by a all-day hangover. WHY do I do that to myself? I don't drink much at all anymore. Wine usually. Heavy binge-drinking days being behind me and all.

Sometime throughout the night I decided to show my piercings to my fellow co-worker. The only reason I can come up with for doing this, besides an overindulgence in the devil's brew, is that everyone else's rings are plain 'ol silver and mine are gold with a decorative charm. That makes them special right? Show-worthy right? (Just agree with me because I still have a lingering headache and I need someone to defend my stupidity.) At one point during the night my co-worker quietly sidled up informed me that I have reeeally nice tits! Now I'm not sure but that could be misconstrued as sexual harassment right? Or did I harass first? He showed me his first! I'm so confused. Mostly I'm confused about how one minute I can be innocently listening to a chef talk about his spectacular shiny, waterless pans, how green and crisp his tasty vitamin-filled broccoli is, and the next I'm exposing my bejeweled breasteses in public.

When I got home, I had a refreshing little nap on the bathroom floor before crawling, fully clothed, into bed with a fully-clothed JJ. I'm so proud of myself. I really should drink more often. And let me tell ya this...I'm really glad that I only have pierced nipples!

Proving once again that life just isn't fair.

2006-02-08T11:17:00.000-08:00

What am I doing while my best-friend vacations in the Cayman Islands?? I'm sitting in the Social Security office waiting to change my name. Again. And of course people watching and eavesdropping because that's how you see/hear all the really good stuff. As I patiently wait my turn, I watch the man behind the counter, who is a highly-trained employee of the Federal Government, hunt and peck through the key board to fill in whatever form he's working at so diligently for the person at the window. He only pauses occasionally to inspect, then gnaw at that pesky hangnail, because he realizes there are about ONE GAZZILION people waiting to see him and he takes his job seriously. I expect to see a name tag proclaiming "Hi my name is FLASH how may I help you?" on it because life is ironic like that.

To my left sit two young men, who I happen to know are 20 years old because a nosy old lady loudly inquired as to why they WERE NOT IN SCHOOL in the middle of the day, discussing 'what the difference between Chinese people and Japanese people is anyway', as they pass a Diet Dr. Pepper bottle back and forth between them. Not for a cool refreshing sip of the beverage, as you might assume, but so they can spit their tobacco juice into it. Mmmmm. The discussion then turns to how the more ignorant of the two, by my estimation, is going to try to get into the US Air Force so he can fly one of them jets 'mach 1 right into the ocean and be the first white man to do that'. His words, not mine. Please oh please sign him up to protect our nation. I'll feel so safe.

I now turn my attentions to the woman who is sitting across the room trying to convince a little girl to 'come touch my leg brace...see, it's not scary...see it's got a sticker on the back of it...see Mickey Mouse...I put it there so little kids won't be scared of me'. Never mind that the little girl is freaked out because a STRANGER is talking with her, and is having a mini-stroke as she tries to burrow herself through her mother's armpit into the back of the chair. Relentlessly, the woman presses on, talking at the child and telling Little Miss Pink Snowsuit that she should never, never be mean to a person with a handicap because it hurts feelings. 'And that's not nice is it??'.

The most recent arrival is very aromatic, and not in a good way mind you, but a very, very bad and horrendously offensive way. She's there to ask where the rental forms are for her taxes. As she shuffles amongst us looking for an answer her odor is almost visible, much like Pig Pen's trailing dirt cloud. Wrong roomo stinko ladio!!! This is the S-O-C-I-A-L S-E-C-U-R-I-T-Y O-F-F-I-C-E...says so on the door in big gold letters. I passed the IRS office on my way in here; I assume you did too unless of course you teleported.

Finally, my number is called. Thank the Lord on high! I dash to the window and it takes me a whole two minutes to complete my business. Speedy, even though I practically have to place my ear on the smudged glass to hear the low-talking, hunt and pecking gentleman whose job it is to assist me. I make my escape into the elevator and realize that the odiferous lady must have taken the elevator down too because there's an unpleasant lingering smell in here and it's strangely familiar. Thank goodness I only have to hold my breath for two floors. Once free of the building I inhale huge gulps of the fresh air on my way back to my car.

On my way back to the office I begin thinking about my friend and how lucky she is too be gone. Not that I mind staying here you know...I mean why would I want to be there on a warm beach sipping an umbrella drink when I could be here, where it's cold as witches titties in a brass bra, munching on the Tobasco flavored Slim Jim I grabbed in lieu of lunch? Give all this up? You must be crazy. Oh wait, that's me. And getting crazier by the minute.

One of life's valuable lessons!

2006-02-07T06:29:00.000-08:00

The first time I was married (yes, it's been twice...NOT a good track record I know) we ended up being friendly with couple that owned a bar. Actually we were quite good friends and spent a lot of hours hangin' out drinking bloody mary's and assorted alcoholic beverages with them. I'm sure there are better ways to spend our down-time but at the time it seemed like the fun thing to do.

There was actually a large group of us. Young married couples who snowmobiled, barbecued, partied and went to softball games together. One afternoon, for some odd reason, I was the only wife in attendance when the men decided to visit the local strip club affectionately dubbed 'The Hinder". As I was getting ready to leave the men to their fun I was forcibly abducted and thrown into a van with nothing but a sofa in the back. Amid much laughter and catcalling, my desperate pleas for freedom going unheeded, it was decided that I would be the strip club mascot and away we went. So nine guys and I made the quick trip to the club and I was ushered in much to my embarrassment. Soon though, I relaxed and decided that a strip club full of men wasn't such a bad place to be. I didn't have to buy a drink. The bathroom was super nice, clean and easy to get into. No line...no waiting. I have to admit that while I was having fun I wasn't 100% comfortable staring at nude women. I didn't want them to think I was staring. Ahem, as if they were going to care. But I was naive. Although it was clean, this wasn't exactly one of your classier establishments. These talented strippers were able to 'pee' out a stack of burning dollar bills with one very accurate burst of urine. It was part of their paycheck after all. And one was able to lift a shotglass off the floor using only her...well, you get the picture. Needless to say, my focus was on the wall behind my brother-in-law. As he and I talked I commented to him that I just didn't understand the entire process. I mean strippers are supposed to collect money under their g-strings right? That's where the whole term tuck-a-buck was coined, yes?? And yet these classy broads were bare as the day they were born. How were they to collect all their g-string tips? As I professed my confusion to him, he tapped my shoulder and gestured to the stage. I turned to look at what he was showing me and as I watched a nice gentleman folded his dollar bill lengthwise, placed the tidy fold along the side of his hand and when the stripper backed up to him he tucked it into her butt-crack. She sashayed away with her folded prize tightly clutched between her practiced butt cheeks. I was rather impressed but NOW I know why my Mom told me "DON'T put that money in your mouth...you don't know where it's been!!!" One of life's most valuable lessons. LBB I hope you are paying attention!

And on your right you'll see...waitaminute...where'd that kid go?!

2006-02-03T12:38:00.000-08:00

Who knew there were so many things to climb at a museum? Amazingly, most exhibits are climbable. Curious though, that all door knobs in the Old Milwaukee exhibit are turnable but don't open. Dinosaur bones are unfairly off limits to investigative hands and the big,ugly,many times venomous bugs are ensconced in their Plexiglas homes for a very good reason, but try explaining that too a 5-year-old as he negotiates with the museum staff to hold a ginormous hissing cockroach. The butterfly pavilion, where beautiful creatures flutter haphazardly and land unbidden on your head or your hand is equivalent to a house of horrors to a little girl who typically shouts with glee at every butterfly in she sees outside. And finally, turning your back for just two teeny tiny seconds, to locate a skippin' girl-child as she makes her escape, allows the boy-child to slip under the bars meant to protect the stuffed wildlife from 5-year-olds on safari. Please be forewarned that the museum, while it sounds like quite a placid place to pass the time, is an exhausting way to spend the afternoon. At least with two young ones in tow.

The day was great. My step-kids, little treasures with sticky fingers, who discovered the echo chamber like qualities of museum hallways, fantastic! Despite the fact that JJ and I were exhausted at the end of the day it was an incredible way to spend the day. I suppose, had I not allowed them to eat popcorn, Dippin' Dots ice cream and a soda chaser for lunch our stroll through the museum would have been a bit more leisurely but what fun would that have been?! Sometimes you just have to throw caution to the wind and live a little. And if that means running through a fake rainforest and chucking your money into the wishing well as you dash by in hot pursuit of an errant child...so be it. Learning should be fun!

Pooping at the Pickle Park: Adventures in Ass-wiping.

2006-02-01T06:08:00.000-08:00

There's nothing like better than someone who makes me laugh and my JJ is always glad to oblige. JJ is a truck driver and once a week leaves home at 1am to haul a load to Plano, IL. He goes to bed quite early and tries to get a few hours of sleep before heading out. Last night was an exception. I came to bed about an hour after he did and, when I did I realized that he was tossing and turning. I tried to be extra quiet because I sensed he was struggling with sleep and as I layed there listening to one dog snore, the other panting noisily, and JJ flopping around like a fish out of water, wondering how I was going to get to sleep...JJ farted. I could not help myself and broke out in a full-blown case of the giggles. JJ was surprised and told me he only farted because he could hear me snoring. HE BLAMED ME FOR THE DOG'S SNORING!! This only made me laugh harder because he NEVER holds back his gaseous outbursts any other time. (Which supplies fodder for a million different stories if I cared to regale you.) As I'm struggling to get the giggles under control, we start to chat while he debates getting up and leaving instead of waiting until 1am.

Well internet, much like dinner at my Dad's house, the topic of discussion turned to pooping. Yes, it's come to this. Like so many bloggers before me I now post about poop.

As most truckers know, when Mother Nature grips your bowels in her hand and gives them a good firm squeeze you have no choice but to exit at the closest rest area. And that's just what he did. He pulls in, jumps from his truck and races to the bathroom giving little thought to who might be occupying the bathroom with him. After he does his doodie business he notices, much to his dismay, there is no toilet paper in his stall. JJ is nothing if not resourceful and after a quick peek under the partition to check the stall next to him for an occupant, he determines that it's empty and if the T.P. dispenser is on the same partition in the next stall, his long arms can simply reach under and grab some from where he is seated. So he starts flapping his arm around underneath in an effort to locate the elusive dispenser. At which point a voice exclaims, "WHAT the FUCK are you doing?!" and slaps his hand hard enough that a contorted JJ loses his balance, and falls off the toilet onto floor.

After remounting his throne, a rousing game of "Can you spare a square?" ensues with JJ asking not once, not twice, but three times if his potty-compadre can indeed spare some T.P. for a needy man. To which the man exclaims, "Duuuude!!!". Now you've all had this happen. Whether you'll admit it or not, a dense, greasy poo that sticks to your hiney with such staying power that no matter how many times you wipe you still come up with streaks on the T.P.. So the potty-compadre sighs and says, "Alright, I'll split what's left."

At this point I'm laughing so hard that my stomach hurts and JJ tries to explain that his potty-compadre must have been sitting in the next stall the entire time, with his feet propped on the door, reading. JJ finally gives up on sleep and bounces out of bed leaving me with the now silently sleeping dogs. As I lay there I couldn't help but wonder if the potty-compadre was at home sharing his side of the story with that special someone. How could you not?

In the words of our favorite Geezer....good times will come and they will outweigh the bad times!

2006-01-27T12:18:00.000-08:00

Sorry that I've been so maudlin as of late. I have no idea what's come over me. My divorce will be final on Monday and maybe then the cloud will lift and sunnier skies will prevail. I know I don't like feeling like this.

I plan to have a great weekend. Truly, I do. JJ and I are going to Milwaukee to pick up my step-kids and we plan to spoil them for the day. I miss them terribly and I'm fairly certain the feeling is mutual because when I last spoke with Shawn he said, "Not to be silly but, WHEN. ARE. YOU. COMING. TO. GET. ME. KARI? Because I wanna come stay at your house!" Followed by a inconceivably huge sigh for a 5 year old and then dead silence while I struggled with my answer. I am really looking forward to spending time with them because I know when I get there they will both be beaming and ready for hugs. How can it not be a great weekend?

Peter Pan's got NOTHING on me!

2006-01-25T07:12:00.000-08:00

Lately, life has been more hectic than usual and left me wanting for simpler, happier, less demanding times. When I was small I would spend hours pushing a stick around in the warm sand of my Grandpa's driveway on the little roads and hills we fashioned with our grimy kid-fingers. Periodically, we'd take time out for a snack and run barefooted, to the apple tree and raspberry bushes which grew wild on the other side of a small field right beside the empty, tumbled-down silo we called our fort. Other times, I'd lay in the swaying grass along the driveway, daydreaming sleepily, as the men in my family baled hay and manually lifted it onto the hay wagon. When they got close to the road they'd holler and I'd walk back up the tree-shrouded driveway to get homemade lemonade and sandwiches from my grandma so they could take a break and eat. I'm sure they sent me well in advance because the driveway was long, my legs weren't and the massive trees and deep ditches offered plenty of distraction along the way. I was well-rewarded for my hard work though, my Grandma Mable always had a fresh pan of gooey, chocolate chip, coconut bars that melted in my mouth and all over my fingers. I'd wait patiently in her Ivory soap scented kitchen, gazing into her shiny toaster at my dirty face, while she packed up lunch so a little girl could carry it easily. There are so many memories that it would take me days to list them all, but know this...it was a great life. A quiet life. A simple life. And I miss it.

When did life get so hard? When did it become filled with disappointments and demands? When did it become all about relationships, working, diseases, divorces and death? And why? Why can't it remain simple and slow? I've been thinking a lot lately and have decided that if life offers me a chance to "simple down" I'm going to leap at that opportunity. The older I get the more I realize that all of the fond memories I have are from a much simpler time. Have I caused this? Have I done this to myself because I'm driven and I think I need certain things or for things to be a certain way!? Things that cost money and make demands on one's sanity and wellbeing but really don't offer that much in the way of true peace and happiness. What causes us to let go of the simplicity and trade it in for what usually turns out to be so disappointing? Who decided that it has to be this way and do I have the power and control to change it? I'd hate to think that 20 years from now I'll still be remembering those lazy days of summer as the fondest time of my life but I'm afraid that's how it's going to be. That's sad and I want to change it. I just don't know how right now.

Hello? Tom? I could really use the cash...

2006-01-20T14:48:00.000-08:00

It's been one of those weeks. I actually cried at work! This is HUGE. NEVER cry at work is a cardinal rule for me. I feel like a weak ninny. A puss. A girl!!! I have a low tolerance for girls who cry at work (I work with someone who does it ALL THE TIME) and I did it. Not a wild sobbing, hysterical crying but more of an overflow of tears silently running down my face kind of crying.

I've been here for 10 years. In sales for 15 years (stop calculating my age please) (or I shall cry) and since I've been in sales I've not gone backwards salary-wise. Well last year I did. To the tune of $13,000 and some pennies. It's not just me. Apparently two other sales people here had the same type of year. We MUST solve this. It must be the salespeople's fault. It always is you know. Meetings were held, words were exchanged, ultimatums were delivered. Can't say that it was much fun. But I understand it. I really do. I get it.

In the past 4 years I've had two long-term relationships fall apart suddenly and unexpectedly. My Grandpa passed away, my Mom had a cancer scare and then passed away, I had a cancer scare, I lost two pets and had to work for evil, evil people. Life's been grand. So when my new boss told me that I seem sad, and if I were more cheerful I'd be able to sell more...I couldn't control it...water just came out of my eyes. I've. Had. Enough. Can't be strong and solid anymore. I just want to curl up and sleep for a few weeks and wake up when life is right.

I've started taking Vitamin B-complex by the handfuls as a depression/anxiety/stress reliever. I could take Prozac but I don't like the sexual side effects that occur and I don't like Wellbutrin because it causes me stomach discomfort of the worst kind. I did some research on vitamin therapy for depression. We'll see what happens. IF it works I might just write a letter to Tom Cruise. Maybe he'll send me a $13,000 congratulatory check for staying off the drugs huh?

Men...you might want to skip this one.

2006-01-19T09:09:00.000-08:00

Straight out Susie Sunshine and I couldn't have said it better myself. And because I've been feeling ultra frustrated with life in general the last few days, so much so that I cannot even compose a decent rant on my own, I publish this for your reading pleasure:

Dear Kotex,
I recently noticed that the peel-off strip of my pantiliner had a bunch of "Kotex Tips for life" on it. Annoying advice such as:
- Staying active during your period can relieve cramps.
- Avoiding caffeine may help reduce cramps and headaches.- Drink 6-8 glasses of water a day to keep you hydrated and feeling fresh.
- Try Kotex blah blah blah other products
Obviously the person behind this was someone who has never possessed a functioning set of ovaries. Go ahead and tell a menstruating woman TO HER FACE that drinking 6-8 glasses of water will help keep her feeling fresh. See what happens and report back. I'll wait. While you're at it, dump out the coffee at work and remove the chocolate from the vending machine. I garan-friggin-tee that the first responders will be females who just ovulated. Look, females don't need or want tips for living on feminine hygiene products. Younger girls are already hearing "helpful" crap like that from their elderly relatives. Veteran females have already concocted their own recipes for survival, many containing alcohol. Printing out shit advice while sneaking in ads for the brand THAT WAS ALREADY PURCHASED is just plain annoying, not to mention rude, and enough to send a girl running to the Always brand. Mostly we'd like to forget that we even need these products. It's not a fun time, but DO NOT try to cheer us up by adding smiley faces or bunnies or flowery cutesycrap to your products or the packaging. Put the shit in a plain brown wrapper so we can throw it in our carts discreetly and have it blend in among the wine and beer. There is nothing more annoying than having a blinding pink package announcing your uterine state to everyone in the store. The ultimate goal of your product should be functional invisibility at every stage, including at the point of purchase. So take your tips for living and shove them right up your ass. Try drinking six to eight glasses of water to make you feel fresher while you're doing it!
Ovarily Yours, Miss PMS

We are experiencing technical difficulties...please stand by.

2006-01-17T11:20:00.000-08:00

A few of you have mentioned that my blog is looking a little less than perfect. I am aware of this and because I am technically challenged, I've taken steps to get some assistance in making it all pretty again. You cannot imagine how much it bothers me to not have it 'just so' or how hard it is for me to not whine about it every waking moment. Patience just isn't one of my better virtues. In fact, I think it's a missing virtue for me. I have none.

So rest assured...I will get this taken care of one way or another. You can comment, if you roll over the area that the word comment should be appearing. Same with the links. They're there, you just have to roll over them and click. And really, you should click on a few because many of those people over there on the right hand side of this page who keep me entertained, can do the same for you!

Please bear with me. We will return to regularly scheduled programming shortly.

Pussy cat, pussy cat where have you been? I've been to London to look at the Queen.

2006-01-13T08:41:00.000-08:00

I lost a very dear and loyal friend last night. My kitty Munch. He was a pure bred Persian. Blue with gold eyes. I've had him for 11 years and not once in all that time has he cheated on me, lied to me or been mean to me or asked me for anything but love. More than many people I can think of.

He was such a loving kitty. Always asked for permission to come onto my lap and then he would lay in my arms like an infant. From time to time he would lift his paw to my face and tap me as if to tell me he loved me. When I would cry he would lay with me and let me snuggle him on MY terms, odd for a cat, and he'd purr for hours. He never jumped onto the counters or the table. Again, odd for a cat. He new he had a place in my lap. I loved him. Today the tears I shed are not over a man, or a bad day. I shed sad tears for him.

I like to think that he's now in heaven purring contentedly on my Mom's lap. She once told me that if anything happened to me she'd take care of him for me because he was like a child to me. And she didn't even like cats. So he's visiting the Queen, my Mom and she's the one who gets to love him up now. I know she's doing a great job. Sleep well my sweet Kitty Prince. Momma loves you.

Ignorance isn't always bliss.

2006-01-11T11:54:00.000-08:00

My friend forwarded me an email that her sister's friend forwarded her. This isn't one of those internet hoaxes it's a legit email and it's a concern because the river deaths in this community have gotten a lot of publicity. You can read about it here and here and here. The email I recieved follows this brief introduction. I have X'd out the last names of the guys in the email to protect their privacy as well as the bar they were at before losing track of their friend. I believe there is something going on and I can't help but wonder when or if they will figure it out. The area where this young man awoke, for lack of a better word, is a loooong way from the area of town where all the bars are. I feel that some people in this community believe we are untouchable because it is viewed as such a safe area to live. I also feel that to believe that is ignorant. Most city officials want to blame it on alcohol consumption. Which does play a part I'm sure, this is a college town after all, but let's get real...serial killers don't live exclusively in booming metropolis' under flashing neon lights. The live in secrecy for years and are able to get away with these things because they have the appearance of a 'normal' person. For instance, Ted Bundy or The BTK Killer. Ordinary enough fellows but surprise serial killers. Coincidentally, a co-worker of mine met both Jay and Cullen this past weekend. On the night that this occurred. She said that Cullen did not appear drunk at all. Scary. Read on...

Hey, Just thought I would forward this to you. One of Nikki's neighbors who I've got to know over the years (her husband is a cop - I was actually invited to their wedding and didn't go)...anyway, Jody sent this email to Nikki today. The woman who Jody sits near is the one who wrote this email. All of this is rather interesting if you ask me! The email follows:

I am still a little numb. We almost lost Cullen early Sunday morning. It all started Saturday night. He and Ryan XXXX went off toLaCrosse to hit the bars with Jay XXXX. Cullen drove and they planned tospend the night with Jay. At 1:30 they were all at XXXX Bar. And at bar time Cullen was no where to be seen. Ryan and Jay were up until 5:30 trying to find him. Cullen resurfaced at 7:00 AM at the emergency room of Gundersen Lutheran. He remembers being in XXXX Bar. And the next thing he remembers is being in the water. We are talking the Mississippi River!! He fought his way out of the river and collapsed on the rocks. He probably laid there for several hours. No jacket or shoes, which he probably lost in the river. He awoke to the sounds of cars. He ran towards the noise. Then he saw a sign for Gundersen Lutheran and ran in his socks to the emergency room. They took very good care of Cullen. He volunteered to give a blood and urine sample. He felt he had nothing to hide. So on Sunday I am thinking he had had way too much to drink and I was upset for several reasons. Well, the blood alcohol came back Monday. Cullen was not drunk. His blood alcohol was .04. Yet Cullen can not recall anything from 1:30 AM until waking up in the river. What did someone put in Cullen's drink? The urinalysis has not come back yet. Cullen has scrapes and bruises and he is very sore. I don't think he realizes that he almost died. And I don't think he realizes that someone almost killed him! Cullen and Tom will be meeting with the LaCrosse police this PM. Cullen some how managed to get out of the river. And I think the fact that he was not drunk was a factor. Suddenly I am asking myself "What was the last bar that some of the other young man were in before they drowned in the river?" I am taking Cullen to the doctor today. He may have become infected with some kind of bacteria. At night I just lay in bed and see him laying on the rocks. Wet. I guess we are very lucky that he is alive. And yet I am so angry that there is a person out there who almost killed my son. Do you think they will ever find this person? I do know that XXXX Bar is under surveillance. Just what that means I am not sure. Maybe they do a drive by every other hour! Hopefully Cullen will feel better tomorrow. I think I am still in shock. How could this have happened? Again, we are very, very LUCKY!!

Since composing this yesterday it has indeed been on the local news. You can read about it here. Again...it sounds as if they are blaming alcohol. Correct me if I'm wrong but don't FEMALE college students also get stupid drunk?? Why haven't any of them turned up in the river.

It's my party and I'll cry if I want too.

2006-01-11T07:23:00.000-08:00

So my holiday party for work was NO FUN! Actually it was fun...we bowled and none of us are very good bowlers so it was good for a few laughs. Unfortunately that was where the fun ended for me.

This was the first time that I took JJ to a work function and I can't say I will be taking him again any time soon. I'm not sure if I'm mad, sad or simply disgusted. He has 'nervous' issues when surrounded by LOTS of people he doesn't know and so he proceeded to get drunk. Very quickly. And loosen up. *sigh* I am aware that he's not entirely comfortable around people he doesn't know well. Even in a crowded restaurant he gets a bit antsy.

Because I was so upset, he has not stopped apologizing yet. In fact, if he were a dog I would still be swatting him with rolled up newspaper. I don't understand. He's not typically like that. With the exception of his Christmas party which was a drunken fiesta of rednecks where he fit in perfectly with the rest of the heinous karaoke performers. And they, his employers, did ask for it after all...they bought booze for said rednecks for about 8 hours. Rednecks + free booze = wild party with much off-key singing. Oh yeah, and the drunken midnight dip in his brother's hottub where he showed God and the neighborhood his man parts. That was another celebration of idiocy.

My co-workers found him entertaining as he bowled through people's legs, often times several willing victims at one time. Being a substandard bowler, he rubbed his ball on his butt for good luck and encouraged others to do the same. My new bosses wife for one. It seemed to help. He's never gotten a good score when we've bowled together and he did bowl 178. Better than most partygoers that night. He 'helped' several people who were shooting pool well enough on their own to line up their shots and even knocked some of their drinks off the table for them. When he was actually playing he scratched and the cue ball went flying on more that one occasion. Dropped his cigarette. Several times. He sat down with a group of older folks that weren't with our party and 'entertained' them as we waited for our dinner to come. He hid the tray jack from the waitress a couple of times just for shits and giggles. He showed one table his nipple rings and he threw food at a mutual friend of ours who didn't know enough not to encourage him in his drunken state. He borrowed hats from people and tried them on. Quite the social butterfly as he spread his drunken pollen. I will give him this...he did switch to a soft-drink when I informed him that he was being a bit 'joyful' and requested that he tone it down a bit.

Now I ask you this. IF you are nervous around people WHY on earth would you be so annoying???? Hello? Fade into the background. Pick a couple of people out who don't make you uncomfortable and chat them up. WHY I ask...get drunk and act like a total ass?? It doesn't make sense to me.

I guess my question is this. Is he an ass for doing this....or am I just uptight? I'm beginning to feel a bit guilty because he's still apologizing. And yet. It was my party. If anyone was going to be driven home drunk and take a three hour snooze in the car out in the 25 degree weather upon arriving home it should have been me? Right??

I feel ugleeeee, oh so ugleeee, I feel ugleee and dumpeeee and FAAAAT! Otherwise known as...It's a prozac day in the neighborhood.

2006-01-10T13:14:00.000-08:00

I hate my hair, I hate what I have on. I hate my job today. All people, besides me, are incredibly, monumentally stupid. I went shopping. Enough said.

I've Been Tagged!

2006-01-09T14:02:00.000-08:00

Four Jobs You've Had in Your Life:
1) Hostess on a Dude Ranch
2) Newspaper Advertising Sales
3) Radio Advertising Sales
4) TV Advertising Sales
But I really want to be an attorney Donna and Kinjo!

Four Movies You Could Watch Over and Over:
1) Cadence
2) What's Eating Gilbert Grape
3) Pretty Woman
4) Anything about Earthquakes or natural disasters.

Four Places You've Lived:
1) Colorado
2) Wisconsin
3) Wisconsin
4) Wisconsin
I have moved around Wisconsin a lot though.

Websites You Visit Daily:
1) Hotmail
2) FOX News
3) CNN News
4) Google

Four TV Shows You Love To Watch:
1) The Dog Whisperer
2) That 70's Show
3) CSI
4) American Idol
5) FOX News...every morning

Four of Your Favorite Foods:
I wouldn't want to alienate any so I'm not playing favorites.
But I WON'T eat liver, lamb, or anything that tastes nasty fishy with bones.

Four Albums You Can't Live Without (at least for the moment):
I'm not an album person...more of a song of the day kinda person.

Four Places You'd Rather Be:
1) Somewhere sunny, laying by the pool, wait staff doing what they do best. Waiting on me.
2) Australia
3) At home, an independently wealthy philanthropist
4) Getting a massage

Four People Who Are Now Obligated To Do This to Their Blog:
Feel free, assignments are far to rigid for me.

Bound up...or Heaven bound?

2006-01-06T09:36:00.000-08:00

A one time close friend and local conveyer of gossip called me with some bad news that still has me reeling. She informed me that another friend of mine, who I don't keep in close contact with but who I consider a close friend, has been diagnosed with Ovarian Cancer and isn't expected to live. Or should I say the chances of her ever recovering completely are slim. This is what her husband told me when I called to offer my support and love. I'm betting he hangs onto that 'slim chance' with everything he is. I hope and pray for a miracle.

This situation bothers me on so many levels. She is only 35. She's had a tough life. A mother at a VERY young age, she has three children, one grown with a child of his own and, two of who are still very small. She and her husband just built a new home which she dreamed about for years. But mostly it bothers me because of the possibility she will die and that's just not fair! She's a sweet, funny, gentle person with a full life ahead of her and cancer is a disease, in my mind, which should be reserved for murderers, or rapists, child molesters or other evil people running unchecked in our society. Cruel? Maybe, but an eye for an eye. You commit evil...you should succumb to it.

Her cancer is stage 4, she had a full hysterectomy and she has started chemo. I cannot help thinking of what it must be like for her to know that her hair will fall out. To me, each person has some special feature that makes them...them. The thing that always comes to mind when I think of her is her enviable, beautiful, long, thick, blonde hair. If I got cancer and my hair and eyelashes, not to mention ALL the hair on my body fell out, I would have an extremely difficult time. Granted, given a choice, your health or you hair, there really is no choice...the hair goes every time. Still. It's so hard to face. I like to think that I'd be brave. I'd shave it off before it fell out and thumb my nose at the disease. But the sad truth is that while was facing death, I'd be crying over my hair. I know I would. Sad but true. I like my hair despite it's tendency to turn gray at the roots.

Robin had no symptoms except constant constipation and and occasionally a bit of blood in her stool. No illness, no feeling of sickness, cramping, nothing. She got her annual paps. She went in because she was constipated and uncomfortable. Upon closer evaluation it was determined that the constipation was caused by the pressure of the tumors in/on her ovaries. To my knowledge there aren't a lot of things you can do to check for this type of cancer. By the time it is diagnosed it's usually late in the game and you really need to take an aggressive approach in treating it. As a woman, being constipated is part of life. Constipated, bloated, gassy, hemorrhoids. All a part of blessed womenhood. But do me a favor. If these symptoms occur constantly, and have no pattern, say one associated with PMS. Get yourself checked. Don't wait. Someone loves you. And needs you.

Things I learned over the holiday weekends.

2006-01-04T06:12:00.000-08:00

No matter how cool the gift, how much thought went into it, and how much you spend kids are going to want what the 'other' kid got. Because it's better. Faster. Bigger. Cooler. Oh yes, and riding a bike inside the house is a bad idea. Real bad. So is a 19V remote control semi for a 3 year old.

A toboggan, with a 10 year old girl standing on it as she speeds down the hill like a daredevil, will stop quite quickly when she runs into a pile of logs. Good thing kids are flexible.

A didgeridoo is a hollow tube. And it's not fun to be around when adult men are learning to use it. Nope...not at all.

Regardless of how hard I try I will not likely get a good photo of an eagle in flight over the river.

The commercial lies. A 170 pound man leaping into bed will indeed bounce you out regardless of the space age memory foam it's made from, and it's promises of a restful sleep. The giggles that follow because I almost pee my pants when jolted from sleep WILL shake the bed uncontrollably. False advertising no?

Pomegranates, while very tasty, are a pain in the ass to eat. It took me a 1/2 hour just to get the yummy little seeds free. Not worth the effort. Nope. And what's with the damn seeds inside the seed thingys?? Damn. That just doesn't seem fair.

Alcohol, consumed in great quantities will make you sick. Okay I didn't JUST learn this but I did learn that if you drink a bottle of wine to chase down a Benadryl it will cause some world class bed spins. Whew.

Mike Sherman will get fired, finally. GO PACK! Please stay Brett! Please. Packers will not be the same without you.

Eleven days without sun will make the best of us crabby and irritable. It might even make me...I mean 'a person' want to jab other people with sharp, pointed objects. What the fuck is with this weather? It's been pissing on us for over a week. This is WISCONSIN people! Where the hell is the fluffy white snow?

Being on commission sucks! I earned $13, 337.00 LESS than I did in 2004. That's gotta change or I'm going to start hookin'. Just kidding. I couldn't have sex with stinky guys...unless of course I were equally stinky. Which I'm not.

When someone says "Dawgs, lookit what y'all did, ya done pissed off the Mommy naow!" I'm going laugh. I could hear this 100 times a day and I'd still laugh. You can chase me down and tackle me to 'put a foot up ma ass' but I will still laugh. Or at least smile in secret. It's funny. You talk funny. But it's cute.

Two dogs in the house is far more work than one. You've heard of the changing of the guard? At my house it's "The Changing Of The Dogs." And who the hell do you punish when you find a spot 'o pee? Hmmm??? It's not like one of them steps up and confesses you know.

It was nice to have all that time off but it does indeed make it very hard to come back to work. Hope y'alls holidays were grand. And that you learnt somethin' too. In fact, what did you learn?

Gotta use the vacations days up...

2005-12-29T14:00:00.000-08:00

...so I'll be gone until Tuesday. Have a happy and very safe New Year! Enjoy the pics. AND I've added some blogs I enjoy to my list so check them out!

I've been such a naughty tease but I'm finally putting out...

2005-12-27T12:33:00.000-08:00

Sorry it's taken so long but I'm finally putting out for y'all! Please forgive me for the fucked up lay-out but I'm still relatively new at this. I'm just not as proficient as darling Maja is at posting pics.

These first two pictures are of the totally edible log homes we built. If you will recall, JJ was going to kick my ass. I'm not one to gloat (hee hee) but I'd like to point out that my home is the one that is completed and his home is the one that is now in a ziploc baggie for when I need a chocolate fix.

These pics are of me and JJ with our Jacee-poo doggie. She's a real sweetie-pie and she's not one bit spoiled. Well not so much. The other picture is of the doggie we sort of adopted. He belongs to JJ's brother and they don't interact with him a lot, they just leave him outside all the time, so we decided to bring him in and spoil him too. He's a beagle/basset cross and his name is Bagel. He's lover-boy and VERY happy to be part of our family. My house is a zoo.

Sorry I don't have a picture of the bloody scope nose but these are of JJ's deer. He's very proud and ready to celebrate as you can tell from the case of Bud in the photo. The deer however...not so ready to celebrate. I believe instead, he feels he should have taken a detour during his morning grazing or possibly run a bit faster.

This is my naughty cat Shakespeare. He's one of three and he's done something wrong. I don't know what he did but he's been naughty...guaranteed. You will note that he's behind bars where he rightfully belongs. It's a new Scared Straight program we've started for our critters.

Goodnight, sleep tight, don't let the bedbugs bite...

2005-12-21T11:14:00.000-08:00

As of today at 5pm I am officially NOT WORKING until Tuesday. I'm also not going to blog. Not that it's a big deal, I'm sure many of you will be NOT blogging too.

So happy whatever holiday you celebrate(borrowed from Mr. Happy), be safe, enjoy yourself and read some of my archives if you don't have anything better to do. Hey. It's better than a sharp stick in the eye right? No? Well then.

Diamonds are a girls best friend. I thought.

2005-12-20T14:17:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I spend entirely too much time trying to determine what makes people tick. Trying to get better at not doing that, I really am but, sometimes I regress. For instance...where I work we are giving away a diamond a day for 12 days. It's a nice promotion and since I spearheaded the contest I've had a lot of fun calling the winners and notifying them. People are so excited that they've won. I mean who wouldn't be? Someone calls you out of the blue and tells you that you've won a loose diamond valued at $1300. I'd be bouncing off the walls. Not because it's a diamond but, because I actually freakin' won something. I can't even find a prize in a box of cereal and I KNOW it's in there.

So I call this woman to tell her she's won. She's kind of snarly about it. She's not so excited. I can hear kids screamin' in the background. I give her directions in fits and starts as she bellers at her kids to shut up, sit down, quit running, quit pulling hair...blah, blah, blah and I think, "what a bitch" and I'm annoyed at the interruptions.

Yesterday this woman calls and she's actually ranting and raving at our receptionist about her prize. She's been ripped off! The diamond isn't really worth $1300. Another jeweler told her it's only worth $200 and not only that...it has an inclusion in it...and she would have to pay for the setting AND she had to drive for and hour and a half to get it!! If she'd have known what a piece of crap it was she wouldn't even have bothered to pick it up! The receptionist comes running to me after hanging up and relays all this information. She's decidedly shook. This 'winner', this 'bitch' really raked her over the proverbial coals.

So I call the jeweler to see if they had any problem with this woman. Sure enough. The store owner informs me that she called with the same gripes and dumped on them too. At this point I'm starting to get royally pissed. I mean who does this person think she is?? She yelled at my client. She won a damn diamond! FREE! And it's beautiful. I saw all of them. I played with them. I touched them and fondled them and stroked.....ahem. They are nice. Take my word for it.

So I drive home being all irritated with this woman. Then I recall the stress in her voice. The apparent lack of excitement at her lovely prize. Her concern over the drive required to pick it up. I recall the kid's yelling in the background. And I suddenly realize...she probably took it to the pawn shop to get money. Money that she needed. Money she was probably planning to use on Christmas gifts for her children. Maybe she's a single mom. Or a widow. Maybe she needed food or diapers or electricity or heat?! And soon I'm so disappointed in myself for being critical of her. Of calling her a bitch in my head. I'm distraught for her and I don't even know her. It was much easier when I thought she was a bitch. Now she's been on my mind and I can't stop thinking about it.

I've already decided what us I want to do next year. I want us to sponsor a needy family. I want to provide something to someone who needs the ordinary things in life. I haven't sorted through the logistics of how we will organize this yet but I have a whole year. I'm open to suggestions people. Help me figure this out because giving away diamonds has suddenly lost it's shine for me.

Things I'm thankful for this holiday season...

2005-12-19T11:40:00.000-08:00

I'm healthy, happy and reasonably comfortable. My family is also.

I'm thankful that I have a job and that I enjoy it. That the people I work with are pleasant.

My home is warm and I have enough to eat. And I'm thankful for potato sticks. Shoestring potato chips. They are awesome.

I'm thankful my renter is nice, quiet and doesn't use tons of electricity like the last two I've had. Whew. Oh...and she pays the rent. Cool huh?

I lost 260 pounds of deadweight when I made the decision to kick out the person formerly known as my husband. And I Do. Not. Regret. It. Not one bit. I'm thankful that I realized quickly what a farce my marriage was. That allowed the healing to come quicker.

I'm thankful that my step-kid's Mom allows me to continue to see them. That they love me and that she has been such a wonderful, supportive force in my life since I found out about the ex-freak's issues with sociopathy.

I'm thankful that Jason has come in to my life, even if he does lock himself out of the house from time to time. (He's in the foyer even as I type this...trying to break into the house with a credit card) It was very unexpected and it's awesome that for the first time in my life someone makes me feel 'taken care' of. He doesn't do anything special but it's just there. That feeling of being able to depend on someone. His competence and his integrity. And I like it.

I have great neighbors and live in a great neighborhood.

My animals are awesome and they love me. Even if Jacee does poop in the tub from time to time. I'm sure it's because she misses me. Us. Poor pound hound.

I'm thankful I found the blogsphere. It's opened up the world to me. That's good stuff. I smile unexpectedly, and laugh out loud a lot. That's good stuff too.

He got in. With a screw-driver. This is not good. I am not thankful for that.

How many licks?

2005-12-16T11:37:00.000-08:00

This is the time of year when all that yummy, homemade, Christmas hard candy makes it into my office, my home, my mouth, my stomach and then onto my ass.

That owl...you know...onnneee, twwoooo, thhhrreee, crunch?! I think that little Tootsie Pop crunchin' bugger and I were separated at birth. I am incapable of leisurely sucking hard candy. I MUST crunch it up because it simply has more flavor that way. My favorite is anise flavored and then the spearmint. I hate the peppermint. It just doesn't do anything for me. And yes, I have two crowns. One on each well used side of my mouth.

In other news, I was terribly excited that I would finally be able to post a picture of my completed pretzel house BUT my new cell phone isn't cooperating. It's supposed to let me email myself pictures for only twenty-five cents. I'm sure it's probably operator error but I'd rather blame it on the phone. In any case, as soon as I fill up this roll of film, I will scan and post a picture. It is a real work of art. Jason's is a pile of rubble. His Kit Kat walls have collapsed and are just laying in a heap on the cookie sheet. From time to time, as I go by, I eat a 'log' or two. I hate to see good logs go to waste. In fact, I hate to see any candy go to waste. Yes. I have PMS.

10 Totally Titillating Tidbits.

2005-12-13T10:00:00.000-08:00

Slow thought day so I stole this. Feel free to borrow it from me. Okay Jack...here goes....

1) I'm a total 'giver' in bed. I love to make my partner pant.

2) I'm uncomfortable being on the receiving end but would LOVE someone to take control and make me relax.

3) I give great head. Or so I've been told and yes, I swallow.

4) I've kissed many girls before and have enjoyed it. Girls seem to be better kissers than men.

5) I've tried anal sex before and do not enjoy it. Do. Not. Exit hole only.

6) Kissing is ultra important to me and I've yet to meet someone who, past the newness, continues to kiss me as much as I'd like.

7) You cannot touch me too lightly and I love to be teased. Except if I'm about to cum...then I will break your damn hand off if you stop.

8) I cannot stand someone casually touching my stomach. It's too chubby.

9) Yes. Your penis CAN be too large and it's not fun when you bang the shit outa my girl parts.

10) I happen to like men with a bit of a belly. And I like my men to be 'men'.

Jack? Was that titillating enough?

Give a Redneck a drink and a microphone and you got yourself a big 'ol jamboree. Yessiree!

2005-12-12T08:06:00.000-08:00

Over the weekend we attended Jason's Christmas party. The company he works for puts on a very nice event. Slide show of all the employees at different times throughout the year, excellent dinner, dessert, a specially composed song(that pokes fun at everyone) and was written by one of the employees, nice personalized, embroidered jackets for everyone and an OPEN BAR. ALL NIGHT. From about 5pm until the bar closed.

I have to admit that the employees are an extremely varied bunch of individuals. Some with teeth and some with not so many teeth. There are the suits and ties of course, the office workers, the sales people, the shop people and the construction crew. Some people decked out in their most elaborate jewels and holiday finery and others in what they must wear to work...and at home everyday...and when they sweat excessively...or hunt..or sleep...or pee accidentally. And then there was the guy with ornaments hanging from his ears and light up musical antlers. Yes indeed. Quite the crew.

So after dinner guess what's happening in the bar? Yup. Karaoke. About 80 people who've been imbibing FOR FREE for about 6 hours. Eighty people who figure that they probably have a couple...or 20 drinks coming on the "man". Now this karaoke DJ wasn't hired specifically by the employer but rather, by the bar. What do you get when you have 80 drunk people, many of whom are well-practiced rednecks, crossed with a karaoke machine? I'll tell you. You get a lot of mega-gravity-defying-staggering idiots who can't carry a tune but LOVE the attention. They were fighting for the mike. And when they couldn't have it for their very own...they would just stand/crowd beside whomever did have the mike, whether they knew them or not, and BELLOW their own off-key rendition of whatever tune was being sung at the time.

Honestly, it was alternately incredibly annoying and quite entertaining and had I been a patron, who came in unsuspectingly, I would have left. Promptly. I would have ran headlong into the door in an effort to escape. But no one did. Amazingly the crowd in the bar and the Christmas party crowd merged into one gigantic drunken crowd. No teeth were knocked out due to a bar brawl, which is a good thing because some people didn't have many to spare. No women were accosted. At least not unwillingly. I thought I might end up in a chick fight when one girl asked me for a chew. She wasn't happy but, took a cigarette when I offered her that instead.

I know there were a lot of taxis called that night. The company paid for them AND the return ride to pick up cars the next day. Of all the things the company did for their employees I think that was the nicest. They obviously care for their motley crew of employees. And it reminded me of an important message we should all bear in mind. (PSA coming up) If you are going to drink over the holidays don't drive please. It could be the last time you do. It could be the last holiday season that someone's Mommy or Daddy, or brother or sister has if you drive drunk. Have fun, eat, drink and sing off-key karaoke at the top of your lungs but please don't get behind the wheel! Someone loves you. Someone loves the people you might hit. Someone has a dentist appointment and might miss it if you drive drunk!!

What is the load bearing weight of a pretzel anyway?

2005-12-08T13:01:00.000-08:00

It is on! Jason made the mistake of telling me about a contest they are having at his office. They manufacture, sell and construct log homes so the contest is to build a 12"x 8" log home made entirely of edible items. I threw out a couple of suggestions and he poo-pooed them! GASP! I was rather insulted and so I told him I could build a way better house than he could ever dream of. He's ultra competitive so he rose to the challenge like I knew he would. heeheehee....

How dare he mess with the Queen of Crafts, the one voted Most Artistic in her Class? I can build a damn car out of popsicle sticks and lifesavers if I have too. He has NO idea how bad I'm going to whip his ass.

Here are my plans. I will construct the walls from interlocking pretzel rods (think Lincoln Logs) held together with almond bark. Then I will put a support pretzel perpendicular to the log walls but a bit shorter than the uppermost log so I have something to place my rafters on. The rafters will be joined at the top by chewed gum. (Hey some people will eat chewed gum!) Over these rafters I will place the roof which is going to be made from overlapping graham crackers dipped in almond bark and layered like shingles. At the top I will place a ridge vent made from another pretzel. Chimney will be grid pretzels held together by melted Rolos and will be drizzled with almond bark to simulate snow! The windows will be made by fashioning a frame from sugar cookies and making faux stained glass derived from crushed and melted Jolly Rancher candies. The front door will be a graham cracker with a round green wreath made from one simple Gummy Lifesaver and given that special 6-panel appeal by carefully applying, yup you guessed it, more almond bark. I will have a porch designed in much the same manner as the house itself and for a sidewalk I will have stepping stones made from broken up Hershey's Bars. Snow will be artfully and liberally applied coconut and as a finishing touch, thank you Little Debbie, I will have frosted and decorated trees for my yard.

Have I mentioned there are prizes being awarded?! He is SO goin' down in flames licorice and lemon drops

**I've spent over $30 on crap for this masterpiece. I'll be letting you know how it goes. Sounds great in theory huh? AND I only have tonight to do it. Gonna be a late night. By the way...do I get extra credit for posting twice today??

Reciprocate or devolver.

2005-12-08T06:32:00.000-08:00

My heart breaks each time a relationship has to end. No matter what the circumstances it's never an easy thing. My girlfriend, affectionately dubbed little Jackie due to her size 4, 4'11" stature, has come to the end of the proverbial road. She's dated the same man for two years. She helps him with his home, she works for him, she spends time with his kids, bakes, cooks, makes his home cozy and does all this while keeping up with the rent on her own place in case he wants 'his space'. I've never met him but I know Jackie and she's a kind and wonderful soul. A genuinely good person who wants nothing more than to love and be loved. HE, on the other hand, does very little in return.

After a night of being ignored and dismissed by said boyfriend, she was informed by one of his friends, that he likes her but will never marry her and that he doesn't love her. Each time she has tried to end things with him he has lured her back with little love notes and 'I miss you' conversations. Jackie, who lost both parents very early in her life and who is surrounded by people who have their own lives, is easily persuaded to put up with more of his...for lack of a better word, CRAP! I don't know why. She's a real cutey patootey. Looks like a miniature Sandra Bullock. It frustrates me each time she calls me in tears and then returns for more of the same old CRAP! I know why she does it though. She doesn't want to be alone. Some people are scared to be alone. Or should I say are scared to participate in life without someone to share it with. I know because I am one of these people. I wish I were stronger, that I liked go places by myself, that I could worry, be happy, laugh and all the other things the human race does on a daily basis without wanting to share it all with someone. But I'm not. I enjoy being a couple and all that it entails. I am independent, strong, resourceful,capable and I'm not clingy but, I also believe that life has so much more meaning for me if I share it.

So she came and stayed for the weekend. Saturday she cried on and off and Jason and I were there to hand her a tissue. She cried so much that he actually recommended paper towel. That got a smile out of her.

Saturday night we went out with Jason and one of his co-workers and we danced, she collected pretty points from a couple of very short Hispanic men who were delighted to have found a pretty girl shorter than they were. They didn't speak a lick of English though, and watching Jackie try to communicate with them brought tears of laughter to my eyes. As for me, hablo un pocito espanol solamente. So I caught bits and pieces of the conversation when I was able to make them understand they needed to sloooow dooownnnn. They would all look at me when they spoke, Jackie included, like I was going to translate for them and in my inebriated state they would have to repeat themselves several times before I could understand. Every day the Hispanic population in our little community grows and I really should brush up on my Spanish. Regardless, she left the bar feeling much better after collecting a lot of pretty points. You know, new meat in a small town, she wasn't lacking in the attention department and I think it may have been just what she needed.

When we got home, she fell into bed and in a short while I figured out she was sobbing. I wrapped her up in a blanket, laid down with her and stroked her hair while Jason found the paper towel, and let her cry herself to sleep. What more can you do? It's not like I can fix anything. She has to do that. I can only help dry the tears and offer an ear.

Last night, she called. She has gotten a lot of her things out of his house, freshened her resume and is coming back here this weekend to go to Jason's Christmas party with they guy who went out with us on Saturday night. She bought a new bra, a saucy suit with a sexy satin top and she's has decided that this time she's done. I hope for her sake she is. She deserves so much more than to devote herself to someone who doesn't appreciate what she has to offer. It's all about reciprocation people. Give and take. Always~Kari

Maybe I'm naive...

2005-12-06T10:27:00.001-08:00

...but I just don't understand the whole 'not' saying Merry Christmas thing. If someone came up to me and said Happy Hanukkah or Happy Kwanzaa or Happy Bodhi Day I wouldn't be offended. Likewise, I'd not be offended if someone asked me if I burned a Yule log or planned on attending the Gay Pride Celebration. Why?

I've certainly got bigger things to get pissed over. Like why, right before the gift buying season, is my commission check so sucky? Or why does my brand new car smell like burning oil? Or why isn't my puppy 100% potty trained? Or why in the hell is health care so damn expensive?!

Don't we live in THE HOME OF THE FREE? Aren't we constitutionally guaranteed FREEDOM OF SPEECH? Why get pissed at people who exercise those rights? Shouldn't we embrace these differences and live and let live. Smile and say thanks! They just want you to have a nice day. What's the big deal? No one says these things to offend you purposely and if they do it purposely...smack 'em. It's your right. Right?

Slow day in Kariland so I borrowed this from Notta Wallflower.

2005-12-02T11:04:00.000-08:00

How old do you feel? Very young some days, very old others. My philosophy is that you are never old if you are truly immature.
What do you believe is the meaning of life? To live, to love, to hope.
Why is the sky blue? Because it would suck if it were yellow?
What is your favorite thing to cook? Dinner. Not big on baking.
What would your last meal be? An incredible steak, a margarita, a crusty, hot italian roll, a salad with homemade ranch dressing.
What is the youngest age you have memories of? My first Barbie. Who had a broken leg after I tried to bend it backwards. My Dad took it to the Dr. and that night when he came home from work, there was my Barbie in a cast. The next day...I took the cast off and the leg was all fixed.
What is your favorite thing in the world? There are far to many to have one. My animals, nice people, the things I have that belonged to my Mom...the list goes on.
What living person would you want to meet? Julia Roberts
What dead person would you want to meet? My great, great, great grandma? How cool would that be?
Where in the world would you like to live? Right where I am. Or I've always thought it would be nice to live somewhere in the Carribean and run a little hut/bar on the beach.
Who has the most influence on you? My Mom
What is your favorite dessert? All of them except lemon pie or anything with raisins in it.
Can you make cookies from scratch? Why of course.
Would you rather be single forever with a great family or be with your soul mate and have no family? My family. I have a hard time believing in soul mates.
What is your favorite scented candle? Cranberry Balsam from Pier One.
Have you ever read the bible? I've tried many times. I've read bits and pieces but never the entire bible.
Who do you dislike most in the world? Liars and cheaters
What is your ideal date? Quiet, getting to know one another, talking a lot.
What is your favorite shape? Probably a circle but when I doodle I'm fond of arrows. Is an arrow a shape?
What color do you feel represents you? Red
Would you rather be honest and poor, or a liar and rich? Honest and rich. Oh shoot...not a choice.
What is your ideal ice cream creation? Mint chocolate chip w/extra chips.
What is your favorite thing to do? Sex with an incredible partner.
What is your favorite junk food? All of them.
What is the longest you've gone without talking to anyone? Not talking. Ha. That'll happen.
What is your favorite board game? Scrabble
What is your favorite book? There are far too many to name although I had a book of fairytales that I read over and over as a child. I still pick it up from time to time.
What toy have you always wanted and never gotten? I wanted a set of those clacker ball things when I was young and my parents wouldn't get them for me.
What item could you not go without during the day? Toilet paper.
Do you consider yourself smart? Yes. And resourceful. And modest.
How old were you when life was the hardest? In my teens
Is there anything you have to do every day? Sleep
Do you curse in front of family? Hell no. Okay yes. A lot.
If you had to get back with an ex who would it be? My high school boyfriend. I should have married him back when I had the chance.
When was the last time you felt truly loved by someone? When my puppy slept on my lap.
What character trait would you change about yourself? I worry too much. About everything. AND I'd develop some self control.
Which of your five senses would you give up? Taste. Maybe I'd finally lose those pounds I want to get rid of.
What do you do when the power goes out?Find a flashlight or tromp down the stairs to the breaker box.
Would you rather spend the night out or in?In, with good company.

We should all shit in the shower since they drink from the toilet.

2005-12-01T11:06:00.000-08:00

Why is it that an animal, after watching you fill it's water dish will drink from the toilet OR the freshly watered Christmas tree? Water in a clean dish. Fresh, cold water everyday. Sometimes twice a day and instead they flock to the tree and drink sappy, needle filled water or to the toilet to drink from the water I pee and 'do other stuff' in? Ew. Ew. It makes no sense. All three cats and that silly pup do it. My last dog would actually nose-up the seat so he could have a drink.

While I'm whining about animals, it's been awhile since we discussed potty training of the pup. She's doing fabulously. Except when she shits in the shower. We stopped putting her in the crate because she would poop in there and then walk around in it all day. Besides giving me daily dry heaves it makes me feel like a mean mommy. Plus, I was bathing her frequently enough to wash her skin off. AND it's harder than hell to get in there and clean it up. Yak! I've had numerous people tell me that dogs won't poop where they sleep. Ha! Ha I say! Put her in a smaller crate someone else suggested. Well I can't...she's got mile long legs and the only crate large enough for her height is also deep. So we decided to gate her in the bathroom. The idea being, if she does poop at least she can walk around it and not in it. First day in the bathroom, poop. A scolding, and a trip outside for her when I got home. The second day SUCCESS!!! Woooohoooo. No poop in the bathroom! Jason came home first and praised her and gave her a treat. About 8pm he went in to take a shower. Out he came in nothing but a towel. "Kari, we have a problem in the bathroom." Me: "No we don't. You said she didn't go potty in the bathroom." I go to the bathroom and amongst the numerous, leaking shampoo bottles and body wash bottles is a HUGE pile of dog poop. WTF?! She went behind the curtain took a crap and came back out to sleep on her cozy little bed? Does this make her smart? Or stupid? More importantly...are WE the stupid ones? I know she can hold it because she hates the cold weather and drags her feet when it's time to go out before bed at night. When a dog drags it's feet it's some serious foot-draggin'. Four to be exact. From about 9pm or 10pm until 630am she's fine. She sleeps in the same room we do and NO PROBLEM. But lock the little pup up and she craps. She's a attitudecrapper. We went out the door one day to take out garbage and in the three minutes we were gone her bladder deposited pee all over the floor. Not a little puddle. ALL OVER THE FLOOR. I had to get out the mop.

I wonder, since we don't feed her in the morning, if she has some sort of separation anxiety because she was abandoned? Or, she lived in the pound and pooped in her cage so often that it's the norm for her? What to do people, what to do?? I am open to suggestions. Regular training, on the other hand, is going great! She's a tad stubborn but she's very smart when it comes to learning new things. Sit, stay, down, off...she's got them cold. What is the command for NO POOPING WHERE YOU SLEEP?

Redneck Artwork

2005-11-29T13:03:00.000-08:00

It's officially over, The Redneck's all time favorite holiday. The annual two week extravaganza the call GUN DEER HUNTING. Even though preliminary totals form the DNR show that the deer kill is way up, I know there are many men here in Wisconsin who are crying tears of sheer frustration into their icy cold beers. But not at my house. Oh no. At my house there was a bloody, primal dance of celebration. JJ shot himself a big 'ol buck and he could not have been more excited if he had chased that sucker down, wrestled it to the ground and ripped it's still beating heart out with a wild shriek. Hunters. Ew.

If you've ever hunted with a rifle before you've likely heard of a little something called scope nose. In hunting circles it's commonly known as ha-ha-ha-dumbfuck-you-held-your-scope-too-close-to-your-face-didn't-you-nose. Poor JJ was so pumped with adrenaline when he saw that trophy buck a mere 20 yards away that he allowed his scope to put a 1/2" gash on the side of his nose. He grabbed onto a small tree to crouch down and rest and when he looked up he was face to face with his 'foe'. Amazingly, the buck didn't notice JJ so the great white hunter slowly tipped his head, raised his gun single handedly and proceeded to shoot. NOT taking into account that the recoil would try to relocate his nose to the vicinity of his ear. By the time he got home his face was covered with blood. So much so that I thought HE'D been shot. Gave me quite a fright. I've seen scope nose before but nothing so ghastly.

Tradition says that it's every hunters God given right to torment those who've succumbed to scope nose so, JJ took his numerous lumps with a gigantic smile. He's very pleased with his buck. I wish I could say the same because the man WANTS TO HANG THE HEAD IN MY HOUSE!!! I'm going to go cry now.

Breaking news...

2005-11-28T09:09:00.000-08:00

I feel as if I've been punched in the nose. I haven't of course so it's quite curious that it hurts so much. I bet I have a gigantic, volcanic, undergrounder zit trying to surface. And oh yes...it's Monday. Joy, rapture.

Ding Dong the Witch is Dead!!

2005-11-23T07:12:00.000-08:00

So remember when I told you about Bad Cop Boss?? It was August 10th if you'd like to refresh your memory. Anyhooooo.....Bad Cop is gone. He was fired, okay well he 'resigned' if you want to get technical, but I'm quite positive it was one of those leave now or die ultimatums. I couldn't be happier. Our new manager is wonderful. He's helpful, creative, organized and very intelligent. Not to mention he's done some pretty incredible things to boost moral around here and it's worked wonders. I have a great deal of respect for him. He has hired Bad Cops replacement and this guy 'sounds' like someone I am going to enjoy working for. Life is good and tomorrow WE EAT TURKEY!!

Harriet Houdini

2005-11-21T14:40:00.000-08:00

I cannot take credit for the following but I had to share the story. My best friend of more than 30 years is a pet owner like myself. She has three cats and this terrific Ibizan Hound/Doberman cross, named Sophie, who she adopted from a shelter. This tall, thin, breakable-looking dog has a ferocious sounding bark that would scare the crap out of most people. Enjoy the story and of course I changed names and locations to protect the innocent!

I have to tell you a story.

I went to Chicago this weekend with Sophie to see my honey. We kept her in his apartment/hotel room while we took off downtown on Saturday and all was cool. She wouldn't stay in her kennel without barking, so we took her out and let her lay on the bed in the bedroom and then blocked the door with the kennel. All of this was successful. We got back in around 7:30 and decided to go down the road to go out for dinner. We were only gone about an hour and a half. When we walked back into the hotel room, there was popcorn and snacks etc all over the floor (she had obviously helped herself) but NO SOPHIE! She was GONE! We were just beside ourselves. I thought I might have a nervous breakdown. So Ray runs down to the front desk and eventually comes back up with her. Get this......we did not BLOCK the door from the bedroom with the kennel when we went to dinner, like we had earlier in the day. And the door handles aren't actually knobs but those handles you can just pull down on and open the door. Little miss smarty pants figured out how to open the door from the bedroom and made her way out into the living area where she proceeded to have a popcorn snack. THEN, she figured out how to open the same type of door in the room and make her way into the HALLWAY. So Miss Sophie was a running up and down the 5th floor of the Residence Inn in Chicago all by herself. Eventually some man who was trapped in the stairwell (he was afraid to come into the hallway because he thought she was an attack dog) went to the front desk to report that she was roaming. The guy at the front desk was a temp and didn't know who she belonged to, but he called the girl who had worked prior to him and she told him that Sophie belonged to my honey. So the nice front desk guy, named Bud, brought Miss Sophie back to 524 to put her in the room. This did not last long. Within a few minutes, Bud had 3 families come up to him at the front desk to tell him that there was a dog roaming around the fifth floor and greeting people at the elevators. She would NOT be contained. She had come to Chicago for the weekend and she was having herself a BIG ADVENTURE!! So Bud, not knowing what to do with her because locking her in the room wasn't working, called his girlfriend who was staying on the second floor and asked her to "dogsit" until the owners came back. Once we returned, we were able to retrieve our wayward Harriet Houdini. Needless to say, we had to deadbolt the door when we were in the room. As a matter of fact, yesterday morning my honey took off for the downstairs to get some breakfast, so I got in the shower. When he came back in, just as I was getting out, he asked if I had left the door to the room open. Of course, I had not, so our little escape artist was at it again. The whole thing was briefly scary, but I must admit, a highly amusing little escapade. And that little turd seemed as pleased as punch with herself for managing to get out of the room and roam free, scaring the rest of the clientele. She's such a character.

The opposite of love is not hate, but indifference. And I'm working towards it.

2005-11-17T13:16:00.000-08:00

I wasn't going to post. This is for therapeutic purposes only.

Kari wrote: The end of our relationship is your loss, not mine. No matter what you say to hurt me, I know that is just what it is, something designed to hurt. I won't dignify your petty little jabs with jabs of my own because I have chosen to take the high road. There are things that I could say about you or, comparisons I could make between you and Jason. But I won't. Plenty of things that I could say that might hurt you to the bone but I won't do it because there was a time that I cared for you like no other person in my life. AND because I realize I have hurt you by telling you about Jason. You however, have proven to me, the kind of person you TRULY are. I don't need it and I don't want it. I am blocking all of your email addresses so you cannot contact me. If you continue to bother me at work I will have them screen my calls and I will no longer answer any call on my cell phone that says unavailable or blocked. You chose this path all by yourself so keep fucking walking.

Soon to be Ex-Creating Havoc wrote: are you about done---TubbyFatAss?......you are worthless.I told you straight up when there was a problem...But you my piece of Fin, fine, hypocritical work, led me to believe that there was a real shot. Yep- it hurt....Not much tho---I had alrdy planned for the shit because you never gave me a straight answer..so save the martyred ex-wife bullshit for others...they will believe because I cant defend myself---and I don't care.......O Barren One...use rose bushes for dead babies---they look prettier.

A little background. As I tried to catch up with work today I received many phone calls and instant messages from my soon-to-be-ex chewing me out for ignoring him over the past couple of days. Hello? I've had strep throat, wasn't at work and he took MY home computer. Not that I need to justify NOT talking to him. I've listened to so many stories, lies, half-truths, empty promises I finally just snapped and told him that I've started to see Jason. Probably a wrong thing to do but in my fury I thought maybe he'd say something like "okay I will leave you alone". So sue me, I'm a dreamer. I have done nothing to lead him on. I've been straight with him about not wanting to take him back, about never being able to trust him and I've not 'led him on' or indicated there was a 'shot' at getting back together. If anything I lied by omission so as to protect myself from this exact situation.

When we were married I sadly confided to him that I had lost a child, due to a tubal pregnancy, and that there really wasn't hope that I would conceive another because I had undergone many infertility issues while I was married the first time and now only have one scarred fallopian tube. I believe that any healthy male, entering into a relationship, has a right to know that he may not be able to have a child. I've become resigned to this fact and while it saddens me to not have my own, I still have my step-kids to shower with love. When I lost the baby it was far to early to have a funeral service and for those of you who have lost a child you can understand the emptiness you feel. Not being able to lay that child to rest properly only adds to the emptiness. A girlfriend suggested having my own memorial service and to plant something beautiful, in remembrance, that I could watch over the years as it matured. It was a great idea and I planted a beautiful rhododendron which I dug up and took with me when I left the abusive bastard. It now sits right next to the steps of MY home. Soon-to-be-ex has proven to me how truly evil, uncaring and sociopathic he is. The response above, from him, is only one of several in which he tells me I am a junkie (prozac for PMS which I'm no longer taking since he left), am bad in bed, my *&(%^ stinks, that I am fat and that worst of all...and hardest to not shed tears over...that I am barren.

Santa is so not coming to his house.

**I realize that some of you might think that I am making this up, or that he is a nice guy, that it's actually the other way around and I'm the one with issues. To you I say...email me. I'll give you his number and YOU can start a relationship with him. I double dog dare you.

Strep Throat Attacks...or a little something to leave you with because I'm behind at work.

2005-11-17T11:48:00.000-08:00

Rock out with your cock out!

2005-11-14T06:42:00.000-08:00

Jason is a keeper! For one thing, the company he worked for prior to leaving for Vegas called and asked him to come back. Same pay, insurance, 401K...he was pleased and very flattered to be called back. I don't know why he'd be surprised...he's such a hard worker.

About 5 or 6 years ago, he and his brother took a tree down in his brothers yard. Or rather, I should say Jason the monkey took the tree down. Of course we all stood around and watched him work. After he didn't smash any buildings I had him look at the tree in my back yard and told him that I'd pay him to take it down. It had a big crack through it and hung precariously over my bedroom and the neighbors garage. We never got around to it because I knew that there was no way I'd get any help from my husband, him being lazy and all and I'm not really able to haul an entire tree away by myself. As much as I'd like to think I am, I'm not.

Friday afternoon I spoke with Jason on the phone, asked what he was doing and he told me that he was on his way to the strip club with a buddy. He'd found a credit card statement of mine, called ahead and had gotten the go ahead to use that number to charge as many lap dances as he wanted. I figured from his response that he was up to something and wanted it to be a surprise. He's big on surprises so I didn't push for information. Suffice it to say, upon arriving home I was indeed quite surprised. Not only did he remember, from 5 or 6 years ago, that I wanted the tree taken down but it was done. The only thing standing is about 7 foot of tree trunk. And he's going to need a much larger chain saw to get that down.

On Saturday he finished. He hauled ALL the brush, raked and mowed the yard, trimmed the edges of the sidewalk and never once asked for help. I had the ENTIRE day to clean my house, bake him cookies and do laundry. Every once in awhile, I'd take him out a snack and a soda and ask if he wanted help and he'd shoo me back into the house to do 'my woman stuff'. On an ordinary weekend, after doing all the household chores I would have been outside tackling the yard too. Soon to be ex-Creating Havoc's hubby being so lazy and all. Have I said that? I cannot tell you how grateful I am for JJ's help. He's already done more around the house, that doesn't even belong to him, than my husband did the entire time he lived there.

Needless to say after a busy productive day it was time for a beer or two and we, along with his brother and sister-in-law, headed out to our favorite watering hole. A beer or two turned into a beer or twelve and several drunken hours later we headed back home to sit in his brother's hot-tub. Jason went out ahead of me and when I walked into the kitchen I found his clothes, including his undies, in an undignified heap. When I got to the hot tub, there was JJ, perched naked as a newborn on the edge of the tub cooling off, leg propped up, manhood dangling in the breeze...much to his brothers chagrin. His sister-in-law was as amused as I was and we simply pretended that he wasn't naked. In my book that's the best way to handle a drunken idiot. Just ignore them. JJ was quite sad when he found out that farting in a hot-tub goes unnoticed due to the bubbling action of the tub. His brother was getting increasingly irritated and tried to reign JJ in. He tried quite unsuccessfully to convince JJ that the cops flanking our homes, yes we live next door to and across from cops, would come and arrest him for indecent exposure. This only seemed to fan the flames and JJ loudly announced that if God had intended him to be dressed he would have been born with clothes on. I decided that it was time to take the silly man home, so his brother's blood pressure would go down, and tossed him his towel after telling him that I was going in. He flopped out, wiped off, wrapped his towel around his shoulders and marched off across the driveways, lilly white ass shining in the moonlight, in all his naked gloriousness. Now who wouldn't love a guy like that?

I'm sure there are semi-celebrities who might be looking for me...

2005-11-10T11:42:00.000-08:00

I played basketball with a couple of Harlem Globetrotters. Seriously. In fact, you may have seen one of them on a Kraft Miracle Whip commercial because I think I did. They were both tickled pink when I presented them with Cheddarheads. The next time the Globetrotters were in town I went to lunch with their ambassador but he was really only interested in my breasts. He invited me to go to a local sporting event but he wanted me to meet him at his motel first. I declined. His feet weren't big enough. Okay...I'm just kidding, they were big, really big, but I could tell he wanted to show me his 'stuff' and I'm not referring to his dribbling abilities. Hmmm...or maybe I am? Some guys do dribble a lot afterwards.

On another day I was recruited to braid an All-Star wrestler's hair. That was interesting. He actually whined when I pulled his hair. The puss. I wish I knew his name. Goldman, Goldberg...something like that. I don't watch wrestling. Unless it's my favorite Marine. Semper Fi.

I've met Gallagher. Got my picture taken with him. Just before he kicked a woman out of the audience for taking a cell phone call during his Sledge-o-Matic demonstration. Okay, that is rude, but he was a real prick.

This past weekend I was able to get my 4 year old nephew close enough to the bulls at the bullriding event that you could smell the poo. My intent was to introduce him first to the bulls, then to a couple of genuine cowboys and then to a former classmate, who used to date Tanya Tucker, had a small role in one of her videos, and appeared in a couple of movies. Eight Seconds and Painted Hero. He also does voice work for Dodge and announces big time rodeos. See? Semi-celebrity. We used to wait for the bus together. My nephew was thoroughly unimpressed and ran as fast as he could in the exact opposite direction, forcing me into a flat-out sprint in front of roughly 4000 people. Little shit. I finally caught him by the back of his OshKosh bibs and hoisted him up like a piece of Samsonite luggage much to the dismay of an older lady who thought I was abusing him. She snarled at me. I was far to winded to snarl back and instead smiled pleasantly as I swung him around her in my haste to get back to my seat before I developed shin splints and passed out.

On another occasion, I waved to George Bush and he waved back. Oh, almost forgot, I sat by Kevin Cronin, of REO Speedwagon, while attending a Milwaukee Brewer game. I didn't even ask for his autograph. People were having him sign their baseball gloves. How silly is that? He's in a band for cryin' out loud.

I cannot believe that despite all of these brushes with greatness I am as well grounded as I am. I'm sure each and every one of those people are looking for my number so we can catch up on my life and what's been happening since we spent time together.

Bless his heart.

2005-11-08T12:03:00.000-08:00

Wow. Things have been super busy. Leaves to rake, people visiting, work's insane but here I am. I've missed you. And I'm back in the bloggin' saddle again. And since it's been some time that we discussed the future Ex-Creating Havoc I've decided that I will update you right now.

I got the cell phone bills in the mail and mistakenly opened his, not mine, and was very surprised and, on my way to a fatal heart attack when I realized that it was indeed HIS and not mine. Whew. I'd play the guessing game with you...how much is it...guess, guess, but since it's no fun to play that game unless we are face to face I will just tell you how much of a bill he ran up. Drummmmm rolllll please........ Ready? Three thousand, one hundred and three dollars and ten cents. Yes...$3,103.00. Many, many calls to Edmonton, Alberta, Canada to his new love. Some times as many as 10 or more a day. They must really have a lot to say. Who was I to try to stand in the way of true love? Gosh, golly-gee I'm so glad I set him free. Tee hee.

Sadly, as I perused the bill (not mine to peruse, I know, but so much fun) I noticed that not too long after he left me the phone calls tapered off. Not so many 97 minute calls and more back to back calls where it appears that she must have hung up on him. AND...a couple days would go by and there we NO calls. I'm left wondering, maliciously, if she dumped him. I know I would if someone called me 10 or more times a day. A bit obsessive. How would I get anything done?? Wow...it's just insane.

That must have been when he decided to make his big pitch to get me back. I'm including a poem that he wrote me. I received it just today. If you have a need to use it in your relationship please feel free to borrow it as it is quite touching and lovely. Ha.

Desperation.

In Desperation
I counted
On my fingers
Whom to call...

...To turn to...
...reach out for...
...cling to...

Seven, eight,
Nine, people
To hold close...

Nine,
Seven,
Four,
None.

Mistaken
I had been
In desperation.

Finding...
in desperation
that others wouldn't do
I only
Wanted...

...Her

Don't you wish he was yours?? Always~Kari

Public Service Announcement

2005-11-03T10:08:00.000-08:00

I've added the addresses of some people who visit me regularly and whose sites I enjoy reading. Go check them out because I don't know that I will have time to post today. I've been really busy reading everyone else's blogs and I'm off to shop for Anal Ease. Always~Kari

Random crap. Inane, I know, but hey...it's my blog right?

2005-11-02T14:19:00.000-08:00

A brief update on the soon to be ex-husband....he's still fuckin' nuts. And a liar. Borderline personality disorder with a side of sociopathy. Special of the day served up hot and fresh.

In other news my poor puppy has been stung in her eye by a bee. Her pretty puppy eye is as large as a golf ball and that kissable snout is swollen like she took a hit from Ali himself. She's had steroid shots, benadryl (yes, I know I was surprised too... you can give it to a dog) and she's got eyedrops and antibiotics. She's such a little sweetie pie! Takes all the medicine like a trooper. I plan to post some pictures when I get them developed.

Things are hectic as hell here at work. That's the reason for my M.I.A posting. Packers are being less than a winning team and it makes it hard to sell commercials! Woes my paycheck.

Jason and I have consummated our friendship by having wild monkey sex. Let me tell ya....after having been with someone who'd rather play video games and spank his potty to online porn, than sex his real-live woman, it's a refreshing change of pace and I am quite happy with the arrangement. Quite. Although I do have to glue the rocking chair back together. Not because we broke it...but because I plan too. HE is still insistent that he gets to stick it 'in there' and that it 'won't hurt' and he will 'be gentle'. HA! Has he looked at his penis lately? It's rather large. Does KY make a numbing jelly?? Any anal advice would be appreciated as I must consider all interesting offers Jason makes. He's just so much fun. All those Mississippian (?) sweet nothings he whispers in my ear. Just darling. Always~Sizzle Tits, Sugar Britches, Muffin......Kari

Scares and Dares.

2005-10-27T08:57:00.000-07:00

Last night was pumpkin carving night with my step-kids. Indulgence in pre-Halloween candy and sodas, with pizza as an alternate and unwanted menu option were just some of the highlights. Those kids ROCK! I just adore them and am incredibly happy that their Mom is so willing to let me continue seeing them since the sociopath left. At one point, Shawn my step-son, said to Jason "How 'bout you can be my Dad?". Needless to say it stunned the adults into silence. I was sickened, saddened and reminded of what a horrible person his real Dad is. He also told me that his Dad still loves him to which I replied, "Of course he does honey, and he always will." Lord how I hate that man. Not so much for what he did to me but for what he is doing to his own kids. But I digress.

They drew on the pumpkins, I gutted and then cut the faces they designed, little hands gripping the knife under my own, so by time the evening was over I was covered in pumpkin slime and my kitchen floor was littered with stray seeds and bits of pumpkin. This is quite an accomplishment for me...to relinquish control over the designing of what turns out each year to be quite an artistic display if I do say so myself. Pumpkin carving in an art in my book. This year it's art but it's lopsided and funky and jagged...scary pumpkin smiles displaced some distance from their lopsided eyes, not at all award winning but so much more rewarding. Last year they were a bit young but this year were very helpful. Depending on your definition of helpful, of course.

They left after the pumpkins were lit and photographed. The house suddenly quite quiet and me quite tired. I threw the seeds into the oven to roast and headed to the shower. When I emerged Jason, who had consumed a few beers, asked if I would go to pick him up a pack of cigarettes. Considering that I was standing there in nothing but a bath towel and a pony-tail holder I hesitated. He sensed my hesitation and then sweetened the deal. Said that if I would go with him he'd run in but I had to go dressed just as I was. It was 35 fuckin' degrees outside and I'm in a wet towel. Being the trooper I am, I secured a promise of a future favor of my choice (new leather boots), whipped out the pony tail holder, cinched the towel a little tighter and said, "Let's ride!". He was stunned and laughed the entire time he put his shoes on and proceeded to try and make up additional rules for me to follow. For instance, only take fully lighted streets, leave the light on in the car when we arrive at the convenience store, stop and ask someone for directions to J.C. Penneys...he's a dirty, cheating snake. Finally he accepted that a ride with a towel-clad me was daring enough and acquiesced.

I'm proud to say that we made it back home without getting pulled over by the cops or noticed by anyone I know. Jason was so proud, he feels like he made me do something daring and scary. Little does he know that one night, on a drunken mission, me and three of my sloshed friends boarded a John Deere riding lawn mower, clad only in wet T-shirts and panties, for a 6 block ride to an all night grocery store. Those indoor water fights are hell on a girls wardrobe. We were hungry.

Makin' bacon!

2005-10-26T12:15:00.000-07:00

Growing up in Mississippi exposes people to some wondrous things. Water moccasins, gators, crocs and frog giggin' just to mention a few. I do not come by this information first hand and for that I am quite glad. However, recently I heard a story that should be shared.

Once upon a time, long ago in a Mississippi swamp Daddy went hunting wild boar and brought home a little piglet that he found stranded and alone. Now this little piglet didn't stay small forever but instead grew to be between 400-600 pounds, with huge teethy/tusky things and became the best friend of a girl named Nicole. Boar would meet her when she came home from school, he'd hang out at the neighborhood convenience store purposely scaring unsuspecting people into dropping their newly purchase food-stuffs so he could root through and eat what he wanted. He was so special he was officially named mascot of the local cheerleading team who even included him in photographs. What a guy.

One day, an evil man saw this pet at the convenience store and decided it sported a couple of really nice hams. He loaded the unsuspecting boar, who just loved to ride in a vehicle, up and took him away envisioning the tasty meals he'd provide later. When the young girl came home from school and found that her pet was not waiting for her she became quite upset. She cruised the neighborhood in her little car with a shotgun riding shotgun and went looking for her pet.

Eventually she ended up at the convenience store where she questioned the owner, who was hesitant to admit to her who had taken her pet boar for a ride, and instead offered to call the dastardly ham hocker, himself! As soon as he reached the thief he told him that he'd better bring that boar back as Nicole was fixin' to find out who took it and wouldn't hesitate to fill HIS ham hocks with a load of buck-shot.

I'm happy to report that boar and girl were reunited and all lived happily ever after. I guess the moral of the story is this: Do not come between a girl and her boar if you want to live another day and enjoy your store bought bacon!

Finally, a good surprise!

2005-10-20T06:20:00.000-07:00

Will wonders never cease? I woke this morning to a very tall, half-naked man curled up asleep in the chair in my livingroom. He was covered with a wet towel, from the shower he took, and the TV was on, tuned into quietly playing cartoons. I had to smile despite the fact that there was a wet towel on my furniture AND that my trip to Vegas has been pre-empted. I mean who wouldn't love a guy who watches cartoons right? Admittedly I'm a bit bummed that I won't have my little cross-country adventure but the surprise of having Jason back so soon far outweighs that disappointment. His brother, my neighbor, is ecstatic and I spoke with him for some time this morning as we shared our delight at having the naked chicken-dancing man back in town! I plan to take tomorrow off and enjoy his company before we both get back to work.

In other exciting news, Creating Havoc will be getting a new look compliments of Maddie's pure talent. She's awesome to work with and has done new designs for both Jackie and Marisol. I'm sure she's done plenty more too. These are just two that I am aware of and they are wonderful! She does such a great job of capturing the spirit of the people she works with. Be sure to let me know what you think when it's up and running. I love what she came up with for me. All that talent and she chases little children around too! What an amazing individual.

Sadly, potty training efforts are still going full force. Jace squatted right in front of me this morning as I was urging her, "Outside Jacee, outside, go potty outside!!!". I pursued her across the front porch, literally scaring the crap out of her as she scampered frantically, a half-exposed turd hanging from her doggie butt. Ew. Hopefully we can work out the final potty training issues this weekend.

I'm going to sign off for now so I can actually get some work done before I take off for the day. Have a great weekend! Always, Kari

Scared shitless.

2005-10-19T06:58:00.000-07:00

Scary morning for the timid pup. First thing I do after getting out of bed is put her outside. She's a sneaky little pee machine and if I take my eye off of her for even one minute she anoits my carpet with her tiny tinkles. Frustrating because she is so very smart and should know better. So I put her out and climb into the shower hoping that she will not only pee but drop a little doggie load in the yard like she's supposed to. As I jumped out of the shower I heard the 'gggrmaaaachhhh' of the garbage truck. Knowing that Jace is somewhat skitzy about strange things I dash to her rescue in my leopard print nightie. Forget the fact that the garbage men might get a peep show, my puppers is frightened and I must save her.

Sure enough, I go outside and no puppers. My heart leaps into my throat and suddenly I hear this soft little 'woof' off to the right. There she is wrapped around the landscape light, the flower pot, the bushes, what remains of the zinnias in her path and part of the railing on the steps. She is quivering in her sweet, little, doggy boots as she looks at me with big round eyes. She thinks Satan has emerged from the depths of hell and she's petrified. What's a Mom to do? I tell ya...I brave the cold, ignore the staring garbage man, try to yank my stupid-inappropriate-for-outside-the-house-nightie down to cover my shiny white ass and leap into action. I had to wade into the bushes to get her and she was so tangled up that it took both hands thus leaving my arse super-exposed for the perv garbage dudes who are now staring in my direction. I'm sure they were just trying to figure out what a barely clad woman was doing in the bushes at 6am, but did they have to stare at my hiney??

I'm happy to say that both barely clad Mom and pup are doing fine. Of course I did have to pick up a pile of doggy doo from the floor in my closet not more than 10 minutes after returning to the house. *sigh*

When you jump out of a plane you make a choice.

2005-10-17T14:48:00.000-07:00

You can tell me I'm crazy. I might be. A bit anyway. Jason and I talked today and he told me that if I can get to Vegas by Friday he's going to come back with me. I made the reservations within 1/2 hour of him telling me this. I'll be taking off on Friday, airfare one-way, and we'll be making the trip across the U.S. starting on Saturday. Driving the whole way. You have to understand that this is somewhat impulsive on my part. I NEVER make snap decisions. I'm a huge "WHAT IF....?" person and for me to decide to simply take off is HUGE!

I'm terribly excited for a few reasons. I miss him terribly and suprisingly, I want to get to know him better and he's all the way across the U.S. from me and I'm excited to drive back and see all the sites with him...snapping pictures all the way. There's Hoover Dam and the Grand Canyon and Flagstaff...and WINSLOW! I'm going to get my picture taken there for sure! Only going to pack a carry-on with my camera in it, a couple changes of clothes, toothbrush, and my purse.

Life is short and I intend to live it. No looking back for once in my life. Only forward...but much smarter from now on. And no regrets. No more beating my self up. I've lived with a sociopath for the past three years. In fact, after reading a book that Kinjo recommended, I'm even more certain that I was. I could pull out the names of the people in the case studies and insert my husband's name all over the place. It's an amazing book and great to read for people who keep getting into sucky relationships with people who suck the life out of them. I can hardly wait for him (husband) to call again because I plan to tell him to leave me the hell alone and forget about EVER having a chance to do this to me again. That ship has sailed. He's on it. Wish the world was flat, I do.

I don't know where this thing with Jason is going to end up but I've known him socially for about 6 years, and now I've got the opportunity to get to know him much better and I'm looking forward to it.