Sparrow's Ramblings

You want me to pee in what????

2011-09-15T15:06:00.000-04:00

You ladies know what I am talking about. Men, you can just stay out of this because you have the ability to aim and this doesn't pertain to you one little bit.
We've all had to do it. You go to the doctors and they ask you to pee in a cup. Not just any cup.. a urine sample cup. Yep, the cups that are the size of a dixie cup. I dread doing this every time. It makes me laugh that they call it a "clean catch" sample. There is nothing at all clean about trying to "catch" a sample when you are a woman.
It all starts out with the cleansing towelettes they give you to make sure there is nothing on your lady bits that will contaminate the sample. I swear they put these in the freezer... they are always ice cold and as soon as I open one I take a deep breath because I know there is a very real risk of me jumping off the toilet when it touches me! For the love of all that is holy, put them in a warm environment!! Is this really so much to ask?!
The trick with doing a sample is you can't just pee in the cup. They want midstream urine. You have to START to pee then STOP then pee in the cup. This may sound easy but when you are at the doctors for a bladder infection its nearly impossible and almost always end up starting to pee on yourself while you try to position the tiny cup in the right place.
This takes me to my next complaint. Getting the cup in the right position and maintaining that position. It seems your body chooses to play games with you at this point and you start peeing in all directions. Just when you think you might be successful at getting in the right place, you realize that you are missing and completely peeing all over your hand or the outside of the cup.
At the end of it all you pray you've gotten at least a few drops in the cup and it's enough to test. There's this psychological game I have with myself. I don't want to look like a loser who can't get my aim correct and hand the nurse a sample that has an eyedropper full of pee..but I also don't like handing them a full cup either. I don't know why this is. It seems obscene to me to walk out with a cup full to the brim of yellow stuff.
This whole experience is emotionally and physically taxing. They can make TVs that can wrap around your wrist. They can fit hours and hours of hi def data on a tiny disc. BUT they can't come up with a better way for us poor women to get a urine sample.

Dad's never leaving,,,, and I'm kidnapping my mother.

2011-09-10T14:59:00.000-04:00

My dad's a woodworker. Let me rephrase that. My dad's the most talented woodworker I have ever met. He can turn any interior into a showcase for a magazine. Typically, my dad is on the road away from his hometown working on jobs but I've had the luxury of having him in town for a bit now. I'm thinking of giving him a roofie (Don't be sick, I know it's a date rape drug. I'm really not planning on raping my dad...now Kendrick on the other hand......) and kidnapping him to hold him hostage here to live out the rest of his days! Selfish? Of course it is! But dammit I like having my dad around! (I also hope my mother isn't reading this or my cover's blown and my plan wont work.)
Don't get me wrong here. I know this sounds crazy and depraved. That I am an adult woman who surely should get a grip and stop thinking I need Dad around to make my life complete. I realize it sounds like I have 'daddy issues'. I don't, not really, not overly anyways! It's just that he's always traveled and that his actual home is in Kentucky. My dad and mom keep trying to talk us into moving there. This is all sweet and nice but I just don't see me doing well in the south. Then there is the other issue that I am not one of those people that can just pick up everything and move away. I lack that kind of daring. The daring to face mountain lions, snakes, scorpions, and BIG spiders. (I'm not a fan of spiders. I don't kill em, but I don't want to share a bed with them either!) Not just that though, for as much as I may bitch about snow and cold...I actually love the changing seasons here! Dad and mom tell me they have season changes there and I don't buy that. It's not really Winter without feet of snow. If I can walk outside in December without having to worry about breaking a bone and taking ten minutes to carefully walk to my car then it isn't winter.
Anyways, I don't see us moving to the South. No way, nuh uh, not gonna happen. So you can see my urgency in figuring out how I can manage to get my parents to move here. I've tried tears, begging, and reasoning. So it's getting down to the nitty gritty and I've got to come up with a plan.
Dad is already here working. So for all intents and purposes keeping him here is the challenge. My mom, on the other hand, is still in Kentucky. So real care needs to be taken here to figure how I am going to manage momnapping her and getting an adult woman back here without raising suspicion. Drugging might be an option here too. I think she might be on to it though if I randomly show up one day and say, "here, I brought you this tasty drink!" I'm going to have to get creative. So if any crazies with experience in people stealing and brainwashing are reading this, email me! I am open to suggestions!
They may not realize yet how happy they will be here. It will come in time. Oh yes, it will come in time.

Voodoo lovin

2011-08-31T00:13:00.000-04:00

This is Lori, better known to me as Voodoo, V1, V....but definitely not vd..(bad joke, sorry) She calls me Voodoo as well. V and I text alot...almost everyday, and it never fails that she will be texting a word and her autocorrect feature on her phone will completely mess up. One night she meant to say 'vagina' and it came across as 'Voodoo'. Don't ask me why we were even talking about vaginas. We have had so many conversations about body parts it's hard to remember them all.
I met V in rural Pennsylvania my junior year of highschool. I was a bad ass, goth, rebellious chick and she was as normal as apple pie. I don't even know how we started hanging out..but we were as opposite as could be in almost every way possible. I was a school skipper..I know it may come as a shock to people. Deep breaths, I wasn't always the angel I am today. She was a good student. I was reliving the sixties and she was as current as can be. Anyways, we started talking and it wasn't long till we started hanging out with eachother outside of school. I think there was a strange sort of comfort in her normalcy. There was one thing about V that I was bent on changing though. That was the fact that she tight rolled her pants. I take full credit for the fact that I broke her of that nasty habit.
We graduated and years went by without any contact. Cue Facebook. I've reconnected with several people on Facebook...but not in the way that Voodoo and I have. It took no time at all for us to go from a simple, "holy shit I haven't spoken to you in years" to relaying the past fourteen years of our lives without eachother in no time. We would spend hours talking to eachother, web camming, and sending podcasts to one another. (Isn't podcast a fun word? They were really just videos we emailed but podcast sounds way cooler.) Unfortunately, we live over a thousand miles apart..SOME people just can't stick around. I think she has some nerve living so far away from me, but I can't for the life of me get her to move back. Also, I don't see me moving to the land of lizards, hurricanes, bugs, and alligators. So I guess we are both to blame. (but I blame her more)
V and I are like two peas in a pod. I've never had a really close female friend except for my childhood friend Laura. It's odd to me. You really don't realize what you are missing until you realize you REALLY do like talking to another woman about things like sex, bodily functions, husbands, decorating, fashion...ok I could go on and on. The key point here is there are some things that only a girlfriend can understand. When I am hormonal (never..no not me) and irrational she doesn't hesitate to tell me I'm being a psycho. My husband on the other hand tries to handle those types of situations lightly and carefully. He's a smart man. Voodoo understands when I tell her things about my body that no one else wants to hear. For example......ok, ok no really I won't get into stuff like that right now. You catch my drift. When I complain about the stupid headaches I get she is quick to say, "you are the idiot who won't get a boob reduction." I mean, that right there is honest love. (or envy...seriously, who doesn't want this body?)
I don't know how I lived so long without a friend like her. If I go too long without video calling her I find myself spilling my guts to her and crying like a fool. If my son knows I am going to chat with her he asks if I need the tissues. We both have tantrums and meltdowns with eachother, it's a beautiful thing to be able to stomp my feet and pout about something and know she's not rolling her eyes at me. We send eachother care packages and it's not a rarity to get something in the mail from V that makes me laugh. She sends me things like snuggie Kama Sutra books..I send her things like Girl Scout cookies and gifts from her pets who thank you very much call me, "Auntie Terralyn."
She's my best. Lately I have been thinking about getting a BFF necklace that splits in half. Too much?

I love you Voodoo.

The Boy Who Ate Around

2011-08-30T12:32:00.000-04:00

Children's books are near and dear to my heart. From the time Lennon was born I read to him. We still have the hundreds of books we've bought for him over the years. Now that I am babysitting I get to read them all over again! The book shown above is one of my favorites. As a parent though, it makes you wonder if you are warping your child's little brain by reading it to them.
It borders on inappropriate with it's story about a little boy who doesn't like what his parents are serving him for dinner so he imagines himself as a ferocious monster who eats everything BUT the food on his plate. This includes his parents, the president, the school and children in it, and every country imaginable.
Now don't get me wrong, I like a good horror story.... but do I want to instill these values in a small child? Is it ok to teach them that if they don't like something it's perfectly normal to cannibalize and destroy every person and place around them?
The other disturbing part about this book is that every time the boy eats something the author graces us with an adjective to describe how they tasted and what texture they were. Words like crunchy, salty, and squishy.
At the end of the book the boy is all alone and realizes that perhaps his killing spree wasn't such a good idea after all. So he regurgitates up everything he devoured and is happily rewarded with an ice cream sundae from his pushover parents.
My son loved this book when he was little but everytime I read it I became a little concerned that I was slowly turning him into a Jeffrey Dahmer. I was waiting for the moment when I would serve him vegetables and he would come after me with his knife and fork and dig in.
I'm all for originality, I really am. But what happened to books like Frog and Toad, and Little Bear? You know, those books that gave you that cozy feeling of love and fun. Now when you read to your child you have to lock them in their room afterwards and sleep next to your shotgun.....just waiting....waiting for the moment they choose to heed the words you've read to them.

Smart phone blues.....

2011-08-29T12:19:00.000-04:00

At some point I must have invited a dark entity into my phone. It's possessed. When I turn it on it looks like someones touching the screen all over the place and apps start opening, numbers start dialing, emails get sent, and pictures get taken.
I took my phone to the Verizon store to get looked at. They said they didn't know what was wrong with it. I've done hard resets, I've tried different chargers and it still behaves as though it needs an exorcism.
I wish I could say I didn't care. That I wasn't one of those people that needs their phone to make it through the day. Alas, I do and I am. My phone isn't just your run of the mill phone..it's a smart phone. I use it for emailing, calling, texting, budgeting, pictures, to do lists. You name it...my phone can (or could) do it.
Now I am left with a possessed paper weight. I tried smacking the screen and yelling, "out with ye demons!" It responded by dialing a string of numbers so long that I can only gather it was calling another demon from the underworld.
So, if you are trying to reach me, don't think I am ignoring you. I can hear your call and see your number but I can't answer you. Also, if you get a call or text from me that you can't understand.... it's a demon trying to get to you through my phone. Hang up and slowly walk away from it before it latches onto you and you are in the same boat I am.
I wish you the best. For now, I must return to the land of cellphonelessness. It's a lonely, lonely place to be.....

Children: who raises who?

2011-08-24T19:10:00.001-04:00

A lot of people I know have little ones going into Kindergarten soon. I remember this day as clear as can be. I know what you are thinking. You are thinking that I remember it because it's a sweet memory of my child. Pshaw! I remember it because I now have post traumatic stress from it. Someone should have warned me I should have taken anti-anxiety medicine that day.

Up until that day my son was with me almost all the time. I knew his likes and dislikes. I knew his quirks. I knew his fears and his loves. Then BAM! There I am handing him off to a teacher who knows so little about him. Not to mention the million other kids in his class that had to fight for attention, who probably had very poor manners, head lice, wanted to harm my child, wanted to educate my baby on things he was still clueless about, who in no way, shape, or form were as good as my child.That day was traumatic all right. I was sure he wouldn't be able to make it through the day without me by him. I was certain he was going to come home crying and tell me he never wanted to go back.

That little heathen barely missed me.

I realized this as soon as I picked him up. He didn't run to me with open arms like I was saving him from certain death. He didn't beg me to take him home.. far far away from that terrible place. In fact, I think his words were, "mama, do I have to go?"

Yeah yeah yeah I should have been happy that he was such a well adjusted child. I should have been overjoyed that he loved his first experience at school so much that he was excited to go back. I know all this, and I was.... but there was a small part of me that wanted to cuff some sense into him so he would remember that no one was as good as me and he could at least have the decency to lie and make me feel like he couldn't live without me another school day.

The years have flown and now my baby is a young man.

And I'm still pissed at him for not falling apart that day.

The audacity of that five year old.

long days and short nights

2011-08-24T15:09:00.000-04:00

Kendrick and I have a problem. We thinks life's just to damn fun to sleep it away. This would be OK if neither of us had to get up in the mornings and work. Regardless, we still manage to stay up till the wee hours of the morning no matter how much we try to make ourselves keep a normal schedule.
Around eleven I start saying, "we really should try to go to bed and get some sleep tonight." To which Kendrick always responds, "yeah, I guess you are right." We will mull over this idea for about another hour before we actually start heading upstairs. Little things make us forget about bed. Conversation, video games, swimming, hanging out with other night owls. Alas, at SOME point we finally head to bed with the full intent to go to sleep.
Unfortunately, by the time we finally get to bed we are both so tired that we get our second wind and silliness ensues. We've been known to have full on wrestling matches that would put "professional" (and I say that loosely) wrestlers to shame. I don't know what it is that makes me want to beat the tar out of him..but it's fun! Kendrick especially gets sillier as he gets more tired. He will dance around, do impressions, turn into a kid who will try to annoy you anyway possible. Sometimes I try to be adult about it and I get firm and tell him it's time to settle down. I will roll over on my side and he just picks and picks at me till I get vexed enough to slug him.......then the wrestling starts. You can see it's a vicious cycle.
Mornings suck for us. Getting on average three hours of sleep a night makes you want to take the alarm clock and drown it in the toilet. Sometimes I am irrational enough to yell at Kendrick for letting the sun come up. I know he has no control over it but I need to blame someone. We have to set our alarm an hour earlier than we actually need to be up because we will sleep right through it. At some point one of us realizes the beeping isn't a dream and will wake the other. We stumble around getting dressed in the dark not saying a word. Our language is similar to that of caveman speak. Grunts and pointing is about all you can get out of either of us.
I blame this all on Kendrick. (surprised you are I am sure) If he could quit being so damn funny I could probably settle down.
Time for a nap.

And the best husband of the year award goes to.........

2011-08-23T15:39:00.000-04:00

Ok, ok I know that this blog is mostly about my crazy husband. He's good material what can I say?! Everyday his shenanigans make me laugh so hard I nearly pee myself. And even though I may write things on here that imply that he drives me crazy.. it's a good crazy. (just don't tell him I am saying these things)

The whole weekend was spent getting our home ready for appraisal. My dad let him borrow his pressure washer to clean the siding on the house. My cousin and her husband came over to help. You would have thought you put a magic wand in their hands. They were so giddy about it you could hear them outside shouting and laughing. I walked out to find them both soaking wet with eyes glazed over. Ken was pointing the thing at every thing imaginable to see what it would do. We aren't talking a cheap pressure washer...this is high test professional stuff. It could skin a person if placed in the wrong hands. I asked kendrick if he was taking turns with Mike and he looked at me with the face of a two year old and said, "we are sharing!" They spent hours with this thing. I was beginning to think that it might take my place in bed next to him.

Kendrick was never much of a fixer upper before we moved. He was more of a Macgyver. His best friends were duct tape and glue. He has blossomed into the guy from the Yankee Workshop since we moved. He's painting rooms for the first time in his life. He's using tools to fix things appropriately. He has a workbench! Sometimes I watch him work and I am overcome with the urge to see him work shirtless while wielding a sledge hammer. (Did I just say that out loud?) The joy kill of it is that he's a sweaty man and has taken to wearing sweat bands while he works. It's pretty hard to take him seriously when he has one on. Instead of wanting him to pose for a sexy man catalogue I feel like he should rip open a cardboard box and start break dancing.

That's my man. I couldn't love him more.

Rules of the morning

2011-08-20T11:47:00.000-04:00

I'm not a coffee drinker but I sure do understand the brass knuckles theory. It doesn't take much to make me feel like I want to knock the piss out of someone if they cross me in the morning.

I don't know why I'm like this. I've always a moody brat in the morning. I can remember hating mornings as a kid, I can remember sleeping through my alarm in high school. It's just gotten worse as I've gotten older. I've found little ways to not want to rip peoples throats out as I've matured. Key, though, is giving me my space and not messing up my morning routine once I'm awake. If you fail to do this, I refuse to take responsibility for you well being. I need quiet in the morning. Plain and simple. I don't want to chat, I don't want to listen to happy people yammer on and on. I don't want music or TV. I just want the damn quiet. I want to sit down and let my brain work itself back together after having sloshed around in my cranium all night.

Some people just don't understand this. Some people wake up ready to face the world with a smile a bounce in their step. I don't understand these people and some days I think that they should be sent to their own little island of happiness. That shit just isn't normal. Well, unless you are a child..I can understand that in babies and small children. They don't know what it's like to crawl out of a nice warm bed and have to face a day of jobs, housework, budgeting, and responsibility in general. I will allow them their happiness for now.

My sister has been living with us for a bit and works the overnight shift online from home. The first week she was here I would get up in the morning and walk downstairs to music playing. I wont even say blaring because it wasn't. But it was loud enough that I could hear it..and that's all it takes to irk me. I walked into the kitchen where she was sitting.. she even smiled and said, "good morning!" My response was to stick out my hand that was holding a pair of headphones and to shove it at her. She looked at me inquisitively and I said, "use these or I will freak out on you. I don't want music in my house in the morning." She laughed at me. She obviously didn't realize how close I was to slamming her fingers in her laptop and then taking said laptop outside to water with the hose. We came to an agreement after that morning though. So disaster was averted.

Kendrick likes to sleep in on the weekends. I gladly let him because that means that I can sit in quiet with no expectations. On the one morning that he was actually up before me (this morning) he wakes me with a text message. You heard me right..a text message. It read as follows, "breakfast out back love. Also have your pills and a drink ready for you." That's proof that he knows me in the morning. He has my "pills" ready. I came outside and ever so gently let him know that a text message isn't the best way to wake me up. In fact, I contemplated texting him back telling him to shove his phone and the breakfast up his ass. I would have followed that up by pulling the blankets over my head and passive aggressively staying in bed for another hour. I got up though. My breakfast was a sandwich from McDonalds. He woke me up for that?????? And to add to my frustration he had already been up long enough to run around and get chipper. I don't do chipper in the morning. He's sitting there with all the hope of a new day shining in his eyes, talking about getting our house in order for the appraisal.

Let me get this straight. You woke me with a text message. Your idea of a good breakfast was a McD's sandwich. You are talking and talking and talking.....about cleaning and painting and doing shit that I don't enjoy ANY time of the day, let alone in the morning.

So basically you got me up to prep me to start working. I'm on to you Kendrick.

That's why I am sitting here typing this blog instead of elbows deep cleaning a toilet. I will get there when I am damn good and ready and no sooner.

Battle of the appliances

2011-08-16T13:03:00.000-04:00

I know this looks like a harmless little can opener. Don't be fooled. This thing has the ability to cause catastrophic failure not only in the kitchen, but in a marriage as well.

We moved into our own home about four months ago. Before that we shared a house with our friend who had everything to furnish a kitchen already. So we never had to worry about things like buying utensils or appliances. So excited were we to furnish our own home! The possibilities were endless! Picking out flatware was fun! Picking out dishes was great! Picking out a nice set of pots and pans...fantastic!! When it came to buying a can opener.....we clashed.

Suddenly my husband became a miser. I grew up with an electric can opener. Oh the ease! No struggling or fighting or breaking your wrist trying to get into a can of spaghettios with meatballs. (Wait, did I just admit my love of that bad bad processed food? You're damn right I did! That's stuff's like liquid gold!) At any rate, my husband fought me tooth and nail on buying an electric can opener. He grew up with the old crank style (read: torture device) and would be damned, DAMNED if he was going to spend money on an electric one. I bit the bullet and told him that was fine, but he was opening every single can in this house and I would not use it. He agreed and accepted my terms. He was smug. So smug. You would think he just won an argument in a presidential debate. He drove to the dollar store and bought a manual can opener.

This was all well and good, for about a week. One day while he was working I had to open a can. (Yes of spaghettios...with meatballs....leave me the hell alone!) I latched onto that can ,starving, mouth watering, ready to dig into them with the hunger of a bear after hibernating. The damn thing wouldn't crank. It wouldn't budge. I called Kendrick and so sweetly told him that he better hightail his way home for lunch and open the damn can. He did, and ready to prove me wrong latched onto the can with it...looked at me smugly...then attempted to twist it. HA! It didn't budge. I will spare you the details but let's just say he ended up opening the can with a knife.

You would think that after this he would agree to my first notion with the electric can opener. No. He went to the grocery store and paid eight dollars for a "better" can opener. Upon the first use of that it literally snapped in half and was rendered useless. Cue more carving of cans with a knife.

We went to Walmart..and lo and behold we perused the electric can openers and I lifted one off the shelf like it was the holy grail. It was only nine dollars! A dollar more than his last purchase! He looked a little ashamed at this..but i was so happy about it I wasn't going to shame him by doing the 'I Told You So Dance'.

Life with an electric can opener was splendid. The whirring sound was so sweet to my ears. I was whipping out canned goods like I was working on an assembly line. Until the night my husband sabotaged it. I walked into the kitchen hearing sickly sounds from my beloved appliance and saw him trying to open a huge can of pineapple juice with it.

R.I.P. can opener. I swear to never replace you with a manual one.

And to Kendrick....I've got your number. You lay hands on the next one I get and you will be opening cans with knives till the day we die.

Creative Language

2011-08-15T18:17:00.000-04:00

My husband has a mouth like a drunken sailor. He can drop the f-bomb fifteen times in five sentences. No lie! Fortunately, he's pretty good about keeping that kind of stuff away from the public so I don't have to kick him too often in front of people.

What I love about his swearing though is that it surpasses the bounds of your everyday cuss words. He is the most creative, long winded swearer I've ever had the pleasure of meeting! Especially when he's working diligently on something...watch out! Mind you, he never talks to me like this. (Of course he knows I would personally air nail his lips together if he did.) But if you are in the vicinity of Kendrick at work..watch out.

Here are some of his most used phrases:

Bitch tickle!

Son of a whore!

Mother fucking dick licking son of a bitch! (personally love this piece of linguistic perfection)

Cocksucking dick licker!
Ass clown!
Shit bird!

These are just a few for your tasting pleasure. It's colorful. It's a language all his own. It somehow empowers him to take control over the frustrating project he's working on. No sitting down and figuring out a problem by logically looking at it for him. He will curse his project into submission.

What a gentleman.

My husband's a groper

2011-08-14T13:18:00.004-04:00

I have no appropriate pic for this entry...sorry but I highly doubt anyone wants a pic to follow up that title. And if you do....you are on the wrong site. This is not redtube. (now you are all either wondering why the hell I know about that site or you are searching google for it. Or maybe you are already a fan of it. Hey,whatever floats your boat.) Let's face it..we are all adults here. I've seen a few things in my time. (yeah a few, that's it. Buying that?)

Anyways, my initial thought when doing this blog was not to talk about porn. It was to address what I like to call, "Unnecessary Groping." My husband is guilty of this each and every day. Now I hear all you bleeding hearts reading this thinking I should be grateful that Kendrick loves me so much and is attracted to me so much. To this I say, you've never lived with a groper. Nope, don't believe you have because if you have, you would understand me one hundred percent.

When you live with a groper there is no safe way to sit, lie on the couch, walk through the house, stand up, do the dishes, cook, tie your shoes, you aren't safe ANYWHERE! Why? Because a groper is eyeing you like a piece of candy ALL the time. You know that song, It Always Feels Like Somebody's Watching Me. It's no wonder when I was younger it freaked me out. It was a premonition about my future.

A true groper does not discriminate against clothing. Why? Because they can find something sexy about any clothing. As a fat girl I don't consider wearing leggings appropriate. No one including me wants to see my fat rolls and dimply skin under clothes so tight it looks like puppies wrestling under a blanket. It's just plain tacky. I'd rather the whole world see me naked then that yuckiness. You know who thinks that sexy? My groping husband. I am being dead (maybe too) honest right now. I am plagued by this crap everyday and it's time for some therapeutic venting! If you don't like..skip to the next entry.

A seasoned groper is adept at picturing you in ANY situation with any given pose you might be in. They have a movie theater worth of images they can flip through with the speed of a pitbull on crack. You are laying on the couch reading a damn good book and he will look at you and make a movie of every bad thing he wants to do in his head in five seconds flat. Then they move over to where you are and start groping (read: bothering) you like it's what you were implying. You heard me right.. let's move on to the next topic:

A true groper believes you are sending them subtle messages. Laying on the couch, covered in a blanket, reading a book.... and I pop a leg out of the blanket and put my foot on the back of the couch to stretch. Yep, that's what I want..a stretch. In the groper's mind it's, "she is arching her back, and straddling the couch, and kicking off the blanket to show me her legs." "I know what's on her mind....oh yeahhh." Except, you freak, that is not whats on mind! I simply was stretching while I was SO wrapped up in my book. In fact, at that moment..you didn't exist! This room didn't exist! I AM READING CONTENTLY!!!

There's no convincing him otherwise.

Some days I wake up and feel gross and unattractive. I must be terribly wrong. I am a porn star! All day long I am moving with the grace of a gazelle. I am sweating sexuality out of my pours. Yeah.....that's right......

Just ask my husband.

Inevitability

2011-08-13T01:01:00.005-04:00

Anyone else remember this jingle? No? Oh right, that's because I'm old.

I suspected I was getting old since I turned thirty some years ago and thought, "Oh Terralyn, dont be a fool! You will live forever and always look this good!" Silly me. My suspicions were correct.

I kept saying, "getting older doesn't bother me!" I thought that women who had these little "freak outs" when they had a birthday were just plain ridiculous. I was surely never going to be one of them. "Aging means becoming a wiser person." Yep..that's another short sighted quote from yours truly.

Cue this year's birthday. Why was this one more difficult for me? Who knows?

Suddenly I am having second thoughts about my current love/hate relationship I have with dying my hair to cover the gray. I have always hated dying my hair. one time in my life did I mess with dye..and that was to try to go platinum. Black to white, no big thing right? (I can practically feel the virtual forehead smack from my readers) We all know that it turned out orange. A lovely, sick, washed out version of orange. Or let's just say for the sake of my pride....copper. Yeah that sounds better doesn't it? (just nod and leave me with at least a little sense of pride...pretty please?) At any rate, dye hating. After the one "squabble" I had with the bleaching stuff I have only dyed my hair as necessary to cover my grays. Actually you know what? I am gonna put it right out there...it's white hair. I have somehow bypassed gray and gone straight to white. I'm just that frigging special. The white hair started out as a couple at the temple. No biggie..they were cool! I had two white hairs! HA! I laugh at you white hair and raise you a still beautiful full head of black hair! Those bastards multiplied. It was no longer just me noticing it. Others were pointing it out. "Wow, you have white hair Terralyn!" "Uh oh, look who needs to start dying her hair!" Who the hell thinks these are acceptable things to say to a woman? You wanna know who? Any OTHER woman who is having to dye their own hair. It's somehow bolsters their own self esteem.. they are adding another woman to the ranks of their club. (I have yet to be invited to said club but I know they must exist.) So, I have dyed. I have caved to the belief that gray hair ages me. Well not anymore. I am thinking about being a bit rebellious. If I am going to HAVE to age..then I am going to take full advantage of the rights that come with that. One of them being I can be as eccentric as I want. I don't care if I look like the woman in the above picture. If that's how my hair wants to exist..then so be it. No more slaving over chemicals so strong it is a sure fire way to clear a room of anyone. No more dreading having to make my trip to the store to stand there for who knows how long studying each box, and type, and color. Am I black, or dark brown, or maybe reddish dark brown, or natural black? I DON'T FRIGGING KNOW OK?! Why can't these companies all get together and come up with a color scheme and name? Assholes. At any rate...not going to do it anymore. If you see me on the street (yes, I'm often just walking the streets) then feel free to stop and laugh and point out that I am graying. Or whiting..in my case. Just go ahead..I can deal. I am not stressing this age thing one little bit. Not going to sit here and think about being one day closer to boobs that hang to my waste, or a chin that can double as a sail. Not even worried an ounce that I am getting hot flashes or hormonal mood swings that make me kiss my husband one second then consider smacking him with the swiffer the next. Pshaw, I am so relaxed it's disgusting.

But I swear to god if anyone so much as whispers, "happy birthday" to me next year I'm going to bitch slap them.

Preparations

2011-08-10T08:41:00.006-04:00

Why does my husband prepare for a two day trip like we are travelling around the world during the apocalypse? He starts planning days in advance what we need to pack, how we are going to tighten up security at our house while we are gone, checking first aid kits to make sure we have everything we need to survive a zombie attack. Ok, maybe not a zombie attack, but you better believe he is prepared for any weather from an Arctic blast to a desert sandstorm. He's prepared for any medical emergency whether it's a cut on my leg from shaving or a major head wound from a zombie that may choose to nom nom on me.

This is a typical conversation when we are packing to go away.

him: "Did you pack something warm in case it gets cold?"

me: "Honey its August....it's only going to get so cold."

him: "You never know, I'm just gonna throw some warmer stuff for you in the suitcase just in case."

me: "Baby, we are running out of room quickly."

him: "Hey love, did you pack any shoes besides sandals and dress shoes?"

me: "Sweetheart, I don't see me having to run long distances... we are going to a funeral."

him: "Yeah but what if your sandal breaks?"

me: "Then I get new sandals...let's remember we are going where there is civilization..new shoes aren't out of the question if need be."

him: "sigh, I guess you are right." (This sigh makes me believe that he secretly hopes for a zombie apocalypse)

him: "Do you think I should shut the upstairs window?"

me: "Do you really think someones going to erect a ladder against the front of our house and scale it to break in?

him: "Just sayin......"

This is my husband...I love him. I am glad I know I am safe and can make it through anything with his preparation. But I secretly think he's a little ill. :)

bad medicine

2010-12-11T17:08:00.002-05:00

Surgery on my ankle went without a hitch. Well, apart from the inconveniences that are associated with not being able to walk and the pain that goes along with it. Its been since surgery that it's been one hassle after another. I wont even go into the ordeal with the bitch of a nurse I had to deal with when my cast split my incision open. No, I've vented about it and I have moved on to realize that some people are just not cut out for their job.
Carrying on. My cast again began tearing into my flesh today. I don't know why it happened again. All I know is that it wasn't pleasant and I wanted it off as soon as possible. Being the weekend my doctor's office was closed. So I called the doctor on call. Who told me to try cutting the splint off myself and rearranging things to pad the sore spot. Seems like a bad idea, but OK..what the hell. Needless to say, this proved fruitless and the splint was hell bent on torturing my flesh like it had a personal vendetta against me. The doctor's next suggestion was going to the ER to have it re-casted. I figured I would cut out the middle man and go to urgent care and save the ER staff for people who had legitimate emergencies. So nice and thoughtful of me.
Except that I should have just gone to the ER. It was apparent fairly quickly that the physicians assistant at urgent care was clueless as to what to do. I tried to explain and demonstrate what was needed. I showed him my broken cast and told him he just needed to recreate that. "OH!" he says, "I can do that!" He proceeds to throw my broken splint in the trash can and says he will be right back with the materials.
I sat and waited with my uncovered foot just dangling there for a good twenty minutes before he comes back to announce that he can't find the materials for casting but has a good alternative. He smiles broadly like he's a genius and shows me a USED cam boot. It took me a second to get my bearings enough to tell him that it wouldn't work. Not just because it would lay right into the foot long incision that's running up my leg..but also because I wasn't interested in getting a raging infection from a dirty old cam boot just laying against my incision. I adamantly refuse this treatment and he says he will call the physician to find out where the supplies are to make the cast.
At this point I really am thinking I am in over my head. After sitting for forty more minutes, I realize I am in over my head. He walks in and says, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news but I can't seem to get in touch with the physician." Hmmmm....as his phone is buzzing in his pocket audibly.
This is where it gets good....
He proceeds to pull my broken cast out of the garbage (ya know, the garbage can thats harboring a fuck ton of bacteria and body fluids from other patients) and says, "I am just gonna put this back on and you can go to the emergency room and have them do it." Oh no Dr. Mengele...you wont put that back on my leg. I would rather take my wheelchair out of here with an uncovered ankle than let him touch me anymore.
Kendrick so lovingly puts himself between the doctor of horror and me and wraps my leg up in an ace bandage and wheels me away. On the way out the door all I asked him if he was charging my insurance. He looked flustered and replied, "uhhh....nooo...noooo."
I will be keeping an eye out for that bill.

So we went to Walgreens to get some supplies to try to rig this until I can see my doctor. I stay in the car thinking about what just happened, wondering if I took a hit of acid without knowing it when out of the corner of my eye I see a guy, a blind guy, standing a few feet from my car...He's drunk, and screaming at someone I cant see. Suddenly, he turns around and walks full on into my car. Instead of turning around he just proceeded to smack the car the whole length with his walking stick until he was past it.

Ken came out just after..all I could say was, "please just take me home."

The creepy crawlies

2010-10-31T12:20:00.003-04:00

OK, that's it, I'm officially,probably, possibly gonna die now. I came home yesterday from a friend's house and was undressed getting ready to dive into a warm bath when I noticed it.

A TICK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Attached to my boob!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I got chills immediately, I was rendered speechless momentarily and finally mustered up the courage to call my hubby into the room. This creepy thing was literally just hanging there on my boob like it had the right to be there sucking my life force.

Now the kicker of this is that I know beyond a shadow of doubt that Kendrick HATES bugs. I'm not just talking the normal dislike of bugs most people have. If he has heard that anyone in a fifteen mile radius has had lice, I have to check his hair...repeatedly. If a bug swoops down at him outside he moves with the grace of Chuck Norris and high kicks it into oblivion. But I tell him I have a tick on me and he meanders around the house finding tweezers...he tries to put on an air of calmness. For my sake?? Puhhleease! I quickly and maybe a bit harshly scolded him for being so carefree with my life and to get a move on detaching this demon bug from me!

I've never had a tick on me. I lived in rural PA for years and not once did a tick bother me. Why now? This is one experience I would have been ok without having.

It was a deer tick. Its now frozen in my freezer in a baggie. I don't care that it was only on my for half a day...I am pretty sure I'm gonna die now.

It was nice knowing you all.

man laws

2010-10-29T16:37:00.002-04:00

Sometimes I sit back and wonder how I ended up being surrounded by so many men. How is it that I can be quite feminine in many regards and I have very few female friends. Scratch that..I have one really close gf and one other woman that I hang out with from time to time. Of course, I'm not counting family..that's cheating. At any rate, I am practically swimming in a sea of masculinity. As a woman, do you know what that's like?
1. I am the only one who can multitask without an issue. Men literally can not do more than one thing at a time. They use all their concentration to focus on the task at hand. My husband often "gets lost" if he tries to accomplish more than one thing. He's been known to stand in a room and just spin slowly in the middle looking around for things. He calls me EVERY time he is in the store. Every time! Sometimes I swear he has a secret pot smoking habit..because his short term memory is non-existent.
2. I am the only one who pays attention to detail. Unlike many other women I cannot complain about men who refuse to help out with household chores. Kendrick is so great about chipping in when I need it..or even when I don't need it, but I have never met a man who pays attention to the small details that go into cleaning. For example...the back splash or knobs on the kitchen sink. Even if they do all the dishes, not one of the men in my house will clean those areas. There can be visible nastiness on it and they aren't touching it. They literally don't see these things. I am not making excuses for them..they really don't!!! They wear rose colored glasses that make the world a beautiful place despite clutter and dust and grime! I want a pair of those..and in turn I want everyone else to wear a pair of those when they come into my house! How great it would be to never have to say,"excuse my mess." I literally put a business card on the bathroom floor as a test and it sat there for three weeks. I watched them walk over it, I watched them walk on it and yet not one of them noticed enough to pick it up.
3. Men stick together. It does not matter if one is blatantly wrong, the other men will back them up to a fault. Sometimes it makes a woman want to pull her hair out because she knows she is right..but it doesn't matter if you are dealing with more than one man at a time. If you try, his friends will back him up (knowing their friend is in the wrong) and lie bold faced to him to encourage him. What the hell is this?! This is a rule that they have created. "When two or more men are gathered in a place everything they say or do is right." The majority rules and rational behavior and thought go out the door. How can I argue with that? There is no argument.
4. All men want to protect women. This may seem to contradict #3..but don't be mistaken. I'm not talking about emotional protection. I am talking about physical protection. If I am home alone the door has to be locked. Even if its the middle of the day, because you never know who has it in their mind to come attack me in my home at any time. If there is a strange noise in the night I am to stay dutifully in bed like a helpless woman and wait till Kendrick searches the house and gives the, "all clear!"
5. If drinking, men will continually make toasts. I don't know why..can you imagine a group of women sitting together clinking their glasses in a toast every five minutes? What are they toasting and why? They toast to loved ones passed, they toast to friends, they toast to birthdays, they toast to the alcohol they are drinking. You name it and they toast to it. I swear if one of them farted loudly they would toast to that. It's and odd thing.
6. A man will swear he is right until you can give him physical or educational proof that he is wrong. Even then they may try to snake out of the truth quietly and slowly.

Alright, I have rambled on long enough. I could compile a list forever long about things I have learned living with 3 men and being surrounded by many more. This was not a rant..I love my men. This was me voicing observations.
Sometimes I give in to reckless abandon and just enjoy their nonsensical ways! You will not catch me grabbing myself and adjusting or farting in public though. Some things I just cant let go of.

The many quirks of a man

2010-08-27T12:25:00.003-04:00

When I think of a man's emotions I think of strength and logic. When we are afraid they are strong..when we are overly emotional they are more logical. As a woman I can say with honesty that sometimes I lack these awesome traits when I could really use them. I'm not saying am a crying scaredy cat, or that I can't take care of myself, but it's really nice to be able to allow Kendrick to take care of me sometimes when I feel weak. In paying him this tribute though, I have to be honest and say that sometimes a man's quirks can contradict those very traits..and the result is humorous and baffling.
Kendrick doesn't like to read unless it's a magazine. For some reason you can put any magazine or catalogue in front of him and he will study it with the concentration of a person working on their PhD. Whether its military surplus or orthopaedic shoes it will hold his interest in a way a book never would. Perhaps it's the pictures? Perhaps he doesn't want to commit himself to a whole book when the only time he wants to read is when he's in the bathroom? Now here's the contradiction. He loves when I read to him! He turns into a child once bedtime hits and I pull out our current book. His eyes get big, he gasps, his attention is rapt, he's mentally living the pages of the book I am reading to him. When I try to close the book he begs for more..and sometimes I even see a pout. But how quickly he can shift back into "man mode" when needed. The other night when I was reading it sounded like someone was in our house and he leaps out of bed with the grace of a ballerina and in one smooth move gets his gun and starts combing the house for a murderer...naked. That's right, naked. Either the murderer will run because of the gun or fall down laughing at the tough guy who's naked with a gun. Either way, effective? Two seconds later, back into bed and his attention is right back on Harry Potter and his current dilemma.
He would be downright embarrased if any of his fellow police officers found out that I have read the whole Little House series to him, or that he gets choked up when someone dies in a book...but for a few hours, I get to see this side of him. Then he scratches himself or farts just to let me know he's not too much of a wuss.

Getting tipsy and telling the truth

2010-07-12T18:30:00.004-04:00

I consider myself to be a very straight forward and honest person. You ask anyone that knows me and they will tell you I am not only NOT shy, but I don't mind letting it all hang out...literally. I find though, that a few drinks sometimes just brings that out even more in me......and others. We had a small get together this weekend. I don't drink often, but when I do..I do it like it's my job. My drink of choice?? Lemon drop shots aka truth serum.
To sum up the night as much as I can I will just say that it involved nudity, sexting, skinny dipping..
I have a pretty good body image for being a fat girl. Actually let me rephrase that, I have an excellent body image..I love my body, I love my curves..and I am not afraid of what others may feel about me, don't look if you can't handle a fat chick. I LOVE ME! Anyways, enough praising myself..back to the story.. So I am in the pool naked with a bunch of people who are mostly clothed. Except that I don't just hang out like they are.. I am floating on the water looking at the stars, doing headstands, you name it..I'm doing it. OK, OK, maybe that's a bit over the top but it's true. This (to me anyways) is all well and good but I guess at some point I decided it was time to get other people to play! So I proceeded to launch my ass three feet out of the water onto my friend Mike (did I mention I was naked yet?) yelling, "I am gonna come at you like a spider monkey!!" There was no dunking him no matter what I tried.
Up until the swimming I had been texting with my friend..I will keep out her name because I don't want the whole world (yes! the whole world reads my blog...duhhhhh) to know the innocent person involved. I say innocent loosely, because she was encouraging some very naughty behavior. Or maybe I was encouraging?? I don't know, regardless, the conversation was definitely not your everyday catching up conversation. She got pictures of the debauchery that night. Hopefully they wont come back to haunt me on facebook or some other website.
All in all it was an awesome night, an interesting night. It's good to let go like that.
Now I just have to work on reining myself back in after being so free. Ho hum..such is being a civilized person. ;)

when food kills

2010-04-21T09:37:00.003-04:00

We rarely eat at kfc..for obvious reasons. But when I saw the commercial for the new double down I knew I just had to try it. I don't know what compelled me to do it...perhaps I was momentarily posessed by a heart attack demon, maybe it was because the thought of having two mouthwatering pieces of chicken as buns instead of bread seemed so crazy. Whatever the reason, I did try it last night. I lived through it to tell the tale....so far.
First off I want to say that it's not as neatly given as kfc would have it appear in their stock photo. There are no long strips of bacon..just chopped up pieces that refuse to stay in place and end up all over your clothing. Eating this thing makes you feel like a caveman. You have no choice but to pick up huge hunks of meat and chomp away at them before they stain your perfectly nice clothing. It was akward, the chicken doesn't fit nicely together, the cheese and bacon were sliding all over the place...did I mention they didn't give us any napkins at the drive through??
I pushed forward though, I braved all the hardships of eating this sandwich. About half way through I looked at Kendrick and said, "I am pretty sure if you tested my cholesterol right now it would read....fried chicken." I have not looked at the nutritional facts for this so called sandwich, nor do I want to.
I finished this sucker...that's right. Fatty ate the whole thing. Surprisingly enough I think the double down began to double up in a matter of no time. I went home and put on some nice loose pj's and sat and admired my fried chicken belly. I also listened to the music going on inside my stomach...it sounded like gremlins having a party in there.
Did I mention gas?? Sure it's not really lady like, but when you eat something like this..be prepared for it. you could fuel a small car with the gas this sandwich generates.
I was prepared all night to have to run to the bathroom......let's just say....as of this morning...it's still lodged somewhere between my stomach and intestines. Will it ever come out? I don't know. Maybe the double down becomes a part of us when we eat it.
Wait, hold on....yep....I can see the outline of a chicken breast on my thigh.

Firing a doctor

2010-04-13T08:38:00.003-04:00

Went to my usual three month check up with my gastro doctor for GERD. Everytime I have gone he has mentioned my weight..which is fine...being a fat girl I have gotten used to doctors mentioning it.
Except this time he took it a bit too far by mentioning gastric bypass........several times.
Really?? I know I am overweight, but seriously with this..surgery? Oh no, I don't think so doctor Mengele. I responded with a resounding, "NO WAY" and he looked at me like I had six eyes. Then he tried to tell me that I would feel better about myself if I had it done and wasn't so "large." I tried to tell him that I love myself (probably a bit too much) and that although he may not be impressed with my body..I was perfectly ok being rubenesque. In fact, I pointed out to him that he was a little on the large side too and perhaps he should consider gastric bypass himself...that maybe his weight was eating at his self esteem. I don't think he appreciated this much.
He seemed flustered by my responses..he seemed to shrink before me in his chair when I fired off some rather negative information about this surgery. He definitely looked like he may have pissed his pants when I told him that my body is beautiful and if he didn't agree that was fine because I wasn't asking him to adore me.
All this being said, I told him I was done wasting my time seeing him when my fam doc could prescribe my meds without the hassle. He responded with, "I'm the only game in town." To which I responded, "guess I am going to a different town then."
It felt good to put this man in his place...I may be fat, but I am not and never will be the type of person to shrivel up and allow others to try to make me feel less than what I know I am!
Goodbye Dr. Mazza...you can take your biased unprofessional ass and go torment some other fat girl because this woman loves herself the way she is!

Technology

2010-04-12T09:09:00.002-04:00

I hail from the days when computers were still somewhat new. I used to think it was an awesome treat to go to the brand new computer lab in school and play on the old apple computer. Seems like it was always Oregon Trail...and I was always dying of Typhoid, or starving to death, or my family was dying off one by one of Cholera.
You ask a kid now what a Commodore 64 is and they look at you like you have spoken another language. Lennon already has his own laptop and a phone with a full keyboard and several gaming systems. He has no idea how amazing technology has become because he was born into the tech boom so to speak.
I lasted through the two years on my basic piece of crap phone that Verizon gave me for starting a new contract. It was pretty scratched up, the battery had to constantly be on a charger, and it was nearing it's end. So I went to the Verizon store the other day to upgrade and was faced with the reality that technology is moving faster than my wallet. Gone are the phones that are basic and cheap. They have all been replaced by "Smart Phones." Sigh....
I finally settled on a Palm Pre Plus. This phone can organize your life, let you play on the web, organize your contacts, your schedules...you name it and it does it. I can even use it as a router for a laptop...How the heck?
How did we go from a computer that took up a whole room to a tiny little phone that does AS much and more?
I was reckless with my old phone, I used to drop it all the time, I used to text in the bathtub, I used to shove it in my pocket with nary a care. Now I feel as though I should encase this in titanium and treat it like it's as fragile as a Ming vase. It scares me. I look at it and make silent vows to protect and love it at all costs. I even have insurance on it.
Now I just need a power suit and I can head out into the world prepared because I have this phone....oh wait.....I don't work. I guess I will be organizing grocery lists, Lennon's schedule, doctor's appts, recipes..oh yeah! High handed technology brought down a notch to suit the needs of a housewife.
Still figuring the whole thing out, Verizon offered me a class to learn..I scoffed at him. Pshaw with your classes.. I got all day to figure this thing out. I may not have a job as a rocket scientist but it doesn't mean my brain doesn't function as well as one.

when slip and slide is hazardous

2010-04-08T09:26:00.004-04:00

My friend Karen called me the other day excited to tell me she bought a slip and slide. My first reaction was laughter..followed with a reminder of just how large I am, especially in the chest department. It seems though she was sadistically bent on using this timeless water torture device regardless of our age and physical attributes.
Don't these little cherubs in this picture make it look so seamless, easy, and FUN! Perhaps because they only weigh few pounds each. Maybe because their bones are still soft and pliable. Maybe because their parents gave them some hooch before they began the treacherous game of slipping and sliding. (disclaimer: these are not my children, this is the box picture. My children would never be so small framed and petite)
I pulled into my driveway last night and Karen and Lennon greeted me excitedly in swim wear exclaiming that I just had to go change and play with them. I replied, "you are both smoking crack!" But, in the spirit of having fun I traipsed my butt inside and threw on my suit, knowing in the pit of my stomach I was heading for a disaster.
Mind you, my husband is not a big fan of cold water..so he just sat on the porch observing and offering "tips" to those of us who were foolish enough to do this. He cheered us on by yelling things like, "you need to get a good running start!" or "don't be afraid..do it on your back!" I looked at him sideways because he knew disaster was looming and he was excited to watch it unfold.
My son was a pro at it, he made it look seamless...run, flop and slide to the end. Till he stood up and his belly was as red as a turnip. (another indication that should have stopped me from going forth) He slid several times, he even slid down it on his knees! I was amazed and thought...well garsh, I can do this!
Cue Karen, she didn't get a running start but did a sweet little leap onto it and slid about three feet before coming to an abrupt halt. (another indicator I chose to disregard) I assumed it was because she didn't get enough speed. Regardless, we all laughed and she seemed ok!
My turn, It was almost like being in a real sport with Kendrick behind me cheering me on. So I had to do it, I was pumped, I was going to slip and slide all the way to the end by god. The distance between me and the slip and slide disappeared faster than I was ready for..I had no time to consider my form, no time to figure how to execute the perfect leap..I just did it.
Not only did I not slide more than a foot or two, the pain was immediate. It felt as if part of my right breast had ripped off and been left at the start...it felt like perhaps I cracked a rib as well. I laid there for a moment in the freezing cold shower of water in shock before I stood up holding my tender parts. I walked it off...whining..but trying to get my head back in the game when a thought struck me.

WE NEED DISH SOAP!!!!

Surely this was the answer to the problem! I could slide all day with a little lubrication and wouldn't that be fun? We loaded that slide up with half a bottle of soap. The bubbles were pretty, it looked inviting. Lennon went first and you would have thought someone strapped a rocket to his butt! Voila!! I am a genius! Off I go! I am executing the perfect landing, I am going to slide the whole length......except that once again I stick to the mat. The crunching and pulling of muscles were apparent.

This time I hobbled off to sit next to Kendrick. My days of slipping and sliding behind me..I retired from the game.

I woke up this morning with some bruised ribs and a very sore chest and arm........battle scars...all for the love of the game.

Living off the land..and gaining

2009-06-27T09:56:00.002-04:00

Last year after moving into our new house we were thrilled to see many black cap bushes just starting to produce berries. I had recently become unemployed and had discovered a love of baking. When the berries started to ripen I picked feverishly, devising ways to use them as I went. Who would have known that just a few bushes could produce so much fruit? Everyday I got container after container! I started out using them in a simple berry/rhubarb pie..then I tried muffins, then bread, then cobbler, then bars..I seemed to possess and uncanny ability to take something very healthy and turn it into calories. I think Kendrick gained ten pounds over the summer eating my desserts. I take full credit for his increasing belt size. I have no self control when it comes to pleasing his taste buds. If I so much as saw him blink at a sweet I was off to the kitchen making it and then spooning it into his mouth.
Berries are back. Just a handful to start, but its beginning none the less. I am off to find some new berry dessert recipes....and purchase some larger pants.

Telling it like it is

2009-06-06T00:59:00.002-04:00

I was driving the other day and saw a new second hand shop that popped up on a main drag and thought, FINALLY! A store that advertizes exactly what it is! I don't advocate stealing and selling stolen merchandise, but the person that owns this store deserves an award for honesty. My hats off to you Mr. Stealz n' Dealz!

Mind Games

2009-05-06T14:35:00.003-04:00

Someone has a slight case of paranoia and it isn't me. This is the front yard of a house in town. I counted more than thirty of these signs posted not only on the fence in front of their house but on the house and in the windows and on the mailbox and staked into the yard. This little one floor house sits on no more than an quarter of an acre of land. They even have a sign that says "no dumping rubbish or feces." Some days Lennon likes to walk home from school but since it's so far from there to my house I compromise and meet him on this street. I know it's mean but I like to park directly in front of this house and stare at it. Call it a power trip..call it what you will. I like to know there is someone watching from the window just waiting for me to do something sinister.

Bad ass nun

2009-04-28T21:26:00.001-04:00

I'd convert too if I had to face her.

men

2009-04-27T01:16:00.003-04:00

Sometimes I really wonder how men take care of themselves when they don't have a woman in their lives. Don't misunderstand me here, I am not saying this to make myself feel more important. I honestly watch Kendrick sometimes and wonder if he could make a week straight if I wasn't around. Today was a perfect example. He signed up for a 5K memorial run . First off, I had to trick him into "walking" the run rather than dying of a heart attack in the heat. I won't lie...other than the activity he gets on patrol neither of us are chomping at the bit to exercise. I like to play tennis from time to time but as soon as I start to feel I am doing it for any other reason but fun, I begin to resent it. It's like this with any exercise. We are bad for each other in this way. Anyways, I signed his brother up to walk with him...but Matt has asthma so I knew Kendrick couldn't run with him. Without this set up Kendrick would have tried to keep up with the other men in his platoon. I thought setting him up to have to walk would save him the embarrassment of keeling over in the midst of it all.
We get up this morning and get ready and it is sweltering outside. The sun is so bright overhead that two minutes in it and you feel yourself burn. Kendrick was meant to be born with red hair I am convinced. He can burn faster than anyone I know. It's some genetic fuck up. I say to him this morning, "you really should put some sunscreen on." He says, "yeah I know." I didn't go get it for him and slather it all over him like I would have our son...so do you think he put it on?? No! We were on our way there and I asked if he did and I got a resounding, "Oh shit!" Needless to say, he returned from the walk so sunburned and so close to heat exhaustion the rest of the day was spent in the shade with a cold rag on his head. Did I take care of him? Oh yes I did. I can't say I didn't want to slap his sunburn though.

a trip to Dr. Mengele...I mean the dentist

2009-04-21T22:24:00.007-04:00

Went to the dentist today to get a tooth pulled. I always dread going to the dentist. It's never good news. Even though I brush twice a day and floss regularly I still seem to get cavities like it's my job. I just started seeing a new one. The waiting room was shiny and comfortable. Big cushy chairs and hundreds of magazines to peruse. They even had a curio cabinet with with little knick knacks in it. None of this detracted from the knowledge of what was to come though. No matter how soft they may try to make the environment I start shaking like a leaf every time I go.
My sister in law was saying the other day that she would rather give birth again then go to the dentist. Talk about a dedication to hating something! She's got a point though. At least with child birth you made the decision to go through it. She has called to check on me twice tonight. I consider myself lucky to have such a great sister in law. Although I would be lying if I didn't admit that part of my love for her is that we are the same size. Do you even know how convenient this is? We even wear the same size shoe. All my life my friends have been smaller than me and I was the odd (and by odd I mean fat) girl out. Not anymore..I can call her up and say, "Sue, you know that shirt you had on when you came over for dinner? I need to borrow that. Oh, and the shoes too...I don't care if you are wearing them now...take them off!" It's liberating.
At any rate, after today's appointment I tend to agree that childbirth is a better option. I survived the dentist...but just barely.

Ode to a lemon

2009-04-20T17:47:00.002-04:00

We bought a car ten months ago. Sure it was a 1999. Sure it was used. But we felt it was a marked improvement over our existing vehicles. Boy did she shine in the dealer's lot. We looked at her and thought, "what a body!" We ran our hands over her and patted her rear and said, "today is your lucky day, we are taking you home with us." We drove her off the lot and marvelled at her speed, her get up and go ability, and her handling.
Cue music from deliverance.
Her thirty day warranty passed and her check engine light came on. We noticed blue smoke started coming out of her tailpipe. We noticed the expense of the quart of oil we had to feed her every other day. We took her to a few different mechanics and they all gave us a death sentence.
Her check engine light is on for good now and no matter what work we do it wont go off. We put a Mr. Yuck sticker above it some time ago to make looking at it just a bit funnier. Kendrick even has a special voice he reserves to personify the car. It's a grouchy old man who yells, "check my engine!"
We take hills nice and slow because it's hard on her. We feed her oil because she tends to puke it back up all over her engine. We keep her RPM's low because revving her makes her throw up oil even more.
I believe in assisted suicide. I think she is screaming for help.

What's this you may ask??

2009-04-20T17:25:00.003-04:00

This is a pair of glasses that I have been instructed to start wearing. I even antiqued the picture to make it that much more appropriate to this post. They are a testament to getting old. Last year I started the aging process with floaters appearing in my vision. The optometrist was kind enough to point out that it's common with aging. This year I am told I need glasses for distance. What will it be next year...cataracts? Sometimes I just stare at the glasses and silently curse them.

I started getting grey hair about two years ago. Just a few strays towards the hairline in front. It's gradually creeping throughout my full head of hair. My sweet brother in law Matt was riding behind me in the car and so lovingly said, "Holy shit you are getting a lot of grey hair in the back of your head!" Thanks Matt for those sweet words....they really touched me.

Every once in a while I hear a creak from my knees when I stand up from a kneeling position.

I used to say I would embrace getting old. I would feel good about the grey hair and feel I have earned each of them. I would regard them and my wrinkles as a sign of wisdom.

I must be getting wiser because now I realize what a stupid thing that was to say.

wtf rant

2009-04-18T15:03:00.001-04:00

I am sure you are all familiar with acronyms like wtf and lol. Having a teenager I learn a new one daily. I can't lie and say it isn't annoying to me. Are you really saving tons of time using acronyms like this? Let me break down a normal texting conversation that my son has with his friends.

Wdywtta? (what do you want to talk about?)
Idk, wdywtta? (I don't know, what do you want to talk about?)
Idc. (I don't care)
Lmao, we r dum. (Laughing my ass off, we are dumb.)
Lol, I no. (Laughing out loud, I know)

It makes my head want to explode. The only saving grace for me in this is that he is a teenager so I expect it out of him. But today, oh yes, I drove by a church in town with these types of acronyms on their sign. Brilliant huh?

NO MATTER WHO U R
U R WELCOME HERE!

I thought I was going to drive into the side of the church and crash into a big fiery ball due to the bleeding that was occurring inside my brain. I have a problem with the crazy advertising and slogans that churches have started to display outside. Like this one....
"WHEN YOU ARE IN HIM AND HE IS IN YOU GREAT THINGS HAPPEN!" or this one,
" TOUCH EVERYONE FOR JESUS!"
These are bad enough as it is, but you start adding acronyms into the mix and I just want to scream.

my weakness

2009-04-18T14:40:00.001-04:00

I have a weakness for cute cats...ok, well cats in general. Kendrick and I stopped at a huge rummage sale yesterday and were walking around looking at things. Suddenly I hear Kendrick say, "why would they be selling a box of fur?" Upon closer inspection we realized it was a cat sound asleep in a box in the sun. This fuzzy bundle of sweetness was so adorable I could barely contain myself.

What is it about sleeping cats that makes us both melt I can't tell you. We have a cat ourselves and about a hundred times a day we marvel at his cuteness. We could easily become one of those crazy cat couples. Thank god we have some restraint or we would own enough of them to fill our house.

Here is a picture of our cat Tocho playing poker. This humanlike behavior is pretty typical. He often joins us at the table when we are playing games or eating. He doesn't beg for food. He just sits there for the company.

Decals

2009-04-11T14:58:00.001-04:00

We were riding around today and in front of me was a car with two HUGE NY Yankees decals on it. We started discussing why sports fanatics feel the need to advertise their favorite sports teams. We don't really care what team you love, or what hobbies you participate in.
This made us wonder though.....Why don't all people advertise their hobbies? Why don't coin collectors have decals with coins on them, or stamp collectors have decals with a stamp and tweezers? Why don't clowns have a sticker that depicts balloon animals?

While I am at it. There has been a rise in vehicles with memorial stickers on them. Everyday I see a car with a sticker that says, "IN LOVING MEMORY" with someones name and the date they died under it. When did advertising the deceased become so acceptable? Some people even have photos on the decals. It's disturbing.

You know what we think? We think if you have a memorial decal you should be carrying the body in the trunk as well.

Ageless

2009-04-11T14:35:00.000-04:00

When I think of grandmothers I think of sweet old ladies sitting in their rocking chairs knitting booties for babies. Perhaps joining the Red Hat group and embracing aging proudly.

I do not though, picture a grandmother who dyes her hair crazy colors when the mood strikes. She doesn't get a Korn tattoo or attend hard rock/metal concerts and bang her head in time with hundreds of teenagers. She definitely doesn't shake her fist in the air while she gets bounced around by nearby moshers. She doesn't sport hot pink nails or wear crazy goth costumes for Halloween. She sure as hell doesn't play the drums.

Unless of course it's my son's Nana http://www.misfitinparadise.blogspot.com. She makes me look like the grandma. Last week in the mail he received a Buckcherry bandanna and I was reminded once again of what kind of stuff this woman is made of. She refuses to stop progressing...and to this I say..Rock On !

Symantics

2009-04-10T12:38:00.000-04:00

PETA to Pet Shop Boys: Rescue Shelter Boys, perhaps?
http://www.cnn.com/2009/SHOWBIZ/Music/04/10/peta.pet.shop.boys/index.html

This was a headline on the CNN site today. Apparently PETA has asked the Pet Shop Boys to change their name. They also want to start calling fish......sea kittens. Because who would want to put a hook through a sea kitten?

This hearkens back to a conversation Kendrick and I had with our son about using a taser on duty. Lennon stated that the word Taser seemed so mean sounding. Kendrick said he could start referring to it as "fluffy clowning" it may seem less threatening and offensive to the general public. This made Lennon laugh...." Stop or you will be fluffy clowned!!!"

Does the soft name really change the pain that would ensue? Me thinks not. I am all for animal rights. But for god's sake PETA. Stop coming off as such tools.

Finally official

2009-04-08T12:07:00.000-04:00

Trip #2 to the SS office was a treat much like the first. I decided that if they weren't going to issue me a new card with my married name, and I couldn't get a driver's license without an SS card that I was going to apply for a duplicate of my old one with my maiden name. Then I would take that to the DMV to get a NY license and THEN go back to the SS office for the new card.
Confusing?? Yes it is. So I go yesterday and explain this to the man at the SS office and he stares at me blankly for a few moments and says, "We can't do that." Well of course I ask why. He says, "because your married name IS legally your name now. We can't give you a duplicate with your maiden name because you aren't that person anymore by law."

DEEP BREATH

Oh hold on now...I can't get a new card because I don't have a new license showing my new name..but in his little computer sitting there in front of him my legal name is my married name? Am I going crazy??? Did I drop acid without knowing it?? Because I am really starting to feel like I am on a bad trip and this short guy behind the bullet proof glass is mocking me.

I just stared back. Then I laughed. Then I laughed again. Then I had a mild stroke do to the pressure building up in my head. Ok, not really but I swear I started to have a mental breakdown. I almost asked this guy if he really wanted to be the one responsible for putting me in the mental ward two weeks after getting married.

I went to the hospital today to get my medical records with my new name on it..he accepted that. Go figure.

I used to be a counselor for small children with severe psychological problems. One day when I was working with a very angry five year old he stood in front of me, hands on his hips, and yelled, "I am going to go post office on you!!" (he meant postal)

I wanted to go post office on this guy at the SS office. He's damn lucky I have some self control.

Crazy Kendrick question.again

2009-04-08T12:02:00.000-04:00

I don't know why it seems that driving in the car inspires Kendrick's craziness even more. Perhaps it's the fast moving objects and lights flying by that cause some sort of whirlwind in his brain. Maybe it's exhause fumes making him high.

" Why when people kill someone they put them in the trunk? Why don't they prop them up in the front seat and pretend they are asleep?"

My head is spinning

2009-04-06T16:21:00.000-04:00

Leave it to the government to tarnish my newly wedded bliss with stupidity!

I got my marriage certificate today! Well it's a good a time as any (so I thought) to apply for a new social security card with my new name! Then I can just take my sweet ass over to the DMV and apply for a NY state license...since I am still running on a PA license. So, I get to the SS office and talk to the guy through a big bullet proof shield and a microphone and he says, "well we can't give you a new SS card without a new license." My head about spun off its shoulders. I have a birth certificate, PA license, various credit cards, marriage certificate and this is not sufficient?? Really? REALLY??! I don't know what to say to this guy and judging by the bullet proof glass I better not get smarmy or my ass is going to jail. So I swallow my frustration and politely say thank you while staring daggers.

Off to the DMV I go. What do they have to say to me?? "Sorry, you can't get a license without the SS card."

GO FUCK YOURSELVES..ALL OF YOU

Ahh City life

2009-04-02T13:38:00.001-04:00

I balked at the thought of moving back to the city. Love makes you do crazy things. Frequently I see things that make me complain about it and it causes me to go into long explanations as to why small town living is better. BETTER!

Today I was sitting patiently in my car waiting to be the next at the ATM. The person in front of me finished and I put my car in drive. Suddenly a man on a rascal scooter zips right in front of me as if I wasn't there, sporting shades, several large gold rings, and had a filterless cig hanging out of his mouth. I wanted to get out of my car and pop a hole in his scooter tire. I wanted to run into him from behind and push his rude ass out of the way.

I sat and waited though..seething in my proof that city folk are so often blatantly rude.

I want my little rural town back. Sure everyone knows you and your affairs..but we are all beholden to each other.

Good luck charms

2009-04-02T10:28:00.000-04:00

Why are people so prone to believing that certain objects or rituals bring them luck? I have never been superstitious on any level, not even slightly. But boy did I marry a freak of a man who is.
I was reminded of this this morning when we were coming in from outside and he saw a penny heads up on the ground. Why is this lucky? I throw pennies out all the time because they are a nuisance to me. What makes them so desirable if they are heads up?? All I can think about is how dirty they are laying on the ground. Do people really save the penny? Really? You know at some point they become part of the money you put towards you fast food purchase.

I am not allowed to lay a hat on the bed....again why? It's bad luck that's why. He is convinced that something dreadful is going to happen if I do. Sometimes I will lay down and stick my hat underneath me so he can't see that it's on the bed. It's my rebellious way of fighting back. Then at an inopportune time, like say when we are kissing passionately, I pull out the hat and watch him freak out. You may think this is mean..I call it therapy.

Ever go to a casino and see people who rub the screen every time they bet? What the fuck is that? Are they really convinced that it is helping them to win money? I love watching them burn through a hundred dollars just rubbing away. What will it take to get it through to them that it is doing nothing. In fact, I think it should be outlawed. It's so annoying that I have to get up and move because I want to scream at them that it is stupid and useless...AND ANNOYING ME!!

"You better knock on wood!" Seriously??? His whole family is convinced they are going to jinx themselves at any moment. I can't say anything positive about my day without hearing I better knock on wood. Me, "I can't believe I haven't caught that cold everyone has." Kendrick, "You better knock on wood and fast! Do it, find some wood!" If I don't find the wood he will commence to do it for me...sometimes I swear you can hear an audible sigh as if he just saved my life. If this happens in the car he will knock on plastic and for some odd reason..this suffices.

I don't know how I survived without his help. Think of all the times I was risking my life, not throwing salt over my shoulder, not knocking on wood, and laying my hat on the bed. Thank you Kendrick for saving my life on a daily basis.

Kicking the tires

2009-04-01T10:55:00.000-04:00

We were drawn into the world of The Duggars..much to our chagrin. There is something about this 18 child family that makes you gawk and stare. You want to turn off the tv and say, "I have no interest in this." Try as you may though, you can't. Once you have seen two minutes of the show it spreads like cancer through your brain untill it is all encompassing.

Last night was the reshowing of Josh Duggar's wedding. (the oldest boy) Moments before his wedding his dad, JimBob, pulls him aside to teach him the birds and the bees. That's right. He is on the precipice of having sex for the first time in his life and his father decides that that was the very moment to give him a few tips on the act. Except, he doesn't give him the real facts...he gives him a video and a book called, Intended for Pleasure. It is a book designed for virgins on their wedding day. Of course I am a curious person and I just had to read some reviews on this book. Here are a few:

"Six months after we were married, I was wondering if all men wanted sex ALL the time. It seemed like it was exhausting work with no equal payoff for the wife."

"My husband learned that I may not have an orgasm every time and it's OK."

"According to Dr. Wheat the only way to bring a woman to orgasm is from clitoral stimulation. Which is a crock many women have G-spot orgasms during intercourse, but according to Dr. Wheat intercourse is not pleasurable to the wife only to the husband and he should "manually stimulate her" after his own orgasm."

"The Wheats are against oral sex calling it a short cut and not the way "God would have designed" it in part because it "limits the amount of loving verbal communication that husband and wife can have as they make love."

And now a segment from the book:

"If you think your husband seems to require a lot more sex than you do, ponder this illustration: If you were in the desert and you were thirsty, you'd think about a glass of water, wouldn't you? But if you're standing by the refrigerator, and there's an opportunity to push the button and get it any time you want to, the need for a drink is not nearly so urgent. Maybe the reason your husband seems never to think of anything besides sex is that he's "in the desert" and "thirsty" "Sometimes you will be very tired and feeling as sexy as an old sock, but your husband will approach you with desire. Secular therapists say a wife should be able to respond, "Sorry, but I'm just not up to it tonight." My own opinion as a Christian wife is that we can depend on the Lord to give us the strength and ability to be as warm and responsive as our husband desires, no matter how tired we are... ..."Most important, a wise wife will not argue. She will keep her husband peaceful and satisfied and happy by gracefully conceding to his wishes, or deferring to his opinions...A husband usually welcomes the thoughtful opinions of his wife..."(157-159, Third Ed.)

Well hoorah and kudos to JimBob for passing on this knowledge to his son. I am sure his wife will appreciate it.

The Four Square Church

2009-03-31T15:44:00.000-04:00

Driving along today I spotted this sign on a side road. This is the actual name of this place..the four square church. Now don't get me wrong, I am not trying to pick on somebody's beliefs really. I was just so thrown off by the name of this that I couldn't let it go.

Oh four square memories. As a child I had no coordination and was always out first. Not here! No longer do I have to worry about my inferior skills with a ball! No longer do I have to be concerned about finding three other people to play with! I picture myself playing with God, JC, and the Holy Ghost...I would say things like.."oh Holy Ghost, the ball went right through you again!! That's cheating!" or "Jesus, you can't use miracles to win the game!!" And if I win.......oh that's right....I get eternal life!

I imagine the inside of this church to look like a playground with four square grids all over. Its a huge tournament every Sunday. Instead of your Sunday best, you wear sneakers and sweat suits to church. I would of course spice up my outfit with a sassy pink head band and wrist bands. I would have the preacher autograph my rubber ball and display it prominently on my mantle at home.At this game, I can be the winner! Victory will be mine!

Tourist Trap??

2009-03-31T15:43:00.000-04:00

Well E-town has sunk to a new all time low. We recieved a postcard...I will do my best to describe it to you.the front has a black background with big bold lettering and reads as follows

IN ELMIRA, TWAIN REMAINS.FACT: MARK TWAIN IS BURIED IN WOODLAWN CEMETARY IN ELMIRA, NYCELEBRATE TWAIN IN 2010

That's all. Just that. Twain remains?? He has NO FUCKING CHOICE!! He is BURIED here!!!!! It's no secret folks, he can't go anywhere. What the hell do they feel this card is doing for tourism in Elmira? Any tourist would read it and say..what a dumb fucking city this must be. I won't go into the fact that anyone coming from anywhere just to see Mark Twain's grave is going to be terribly disappointed. Let me save you the trouble..its a concrete block with his name on it. Picture the Washington monument...only grey...an eighth of the size...and no top. Emblazened with three copper etchings of twain and his family that appear to have been drawn by third graders. There you have it. Go somewhere else for vacation.

The Horror

2009-03-31T15:42:00.002-04:00

Sometimes when we are driving and listening to music I will do sign language along with the lyrics. Not only does it keep my signing sharp, it humors Kendrick. In the middle of my interpretive signing today Kendrick suddenly turns down the radio and says, "I just thought of something awful." to which I reply, "if you say something to the effect of how awful it would be to be deaf without arms I am going to kill you." He says, "No no no..it's worse. I was just thinking how horrible it would be to be to have a song stuck in your head when you are deaf. How the hell do you get it out??" He went on to specify that this would only happen to people who were once hearing....(no shit sherlock) He sat there with a mortified look on his face and said, "you know, you couldn't just listen to a different song to get it out of there." What?????? REALLY???? That was three minutes of conversation that I can't get back. Three minutes wasted that I will never have again. I could have done something great with my life in that amount of time..but no...I spent that three minutes humoring a conversation that left me dumber than I was when I started.Nobody can tell me he isn't empathetic, feeling sorry for all the hearing impaired people out there with songs like Hotel California stuck in their heads. To all people who fall into this category..you are not alone...someone else is feeling your pain........even if he isn't deaf

Random invention#32875948573947

2009-03-31T15:42:00.001-04:00

At least every other day Kendrick comes up with a random idea for an invention. Today we are sitting around chatting and he decides that it would be awesome to have a carpet with certain sound effects programmed into it. He starts demonstrating his concept explaining that if you were to sneak or tiptoe..mysterious music would ensue. If you were stomping and angry some sort of death metal would sound off. I have heard it all. If I could just rattle around inside this man's brain for a while I am sure I would be amazed at what he DOESN'T say out loud. How he doesn't just walk around laughing at himself I will never know. I spend half my days just laughing till I cry. In other news, oh wait, there is no other news. Unless you want to hear about how I pulled muscles sitting all weird on a barstool all night. How the hell does one go about doing that?? I know I am out of shape but come on already...this is pathetic. I don't even have a fun story to blame for it. Fatty here was just sitting sideways..that's all...sitting.

long day

2009-03-31T15:41:00.000-04:00

It's wednesday..Kendrick goes back to work tomorrow. I hate when that happens. I wish we had no obligations to fulfill other than to spend every waking and sleeping moment together. Unfortunately that isn't the case. So I must return back to normal life tomorrow.

Long day ahead. I must trudge upstairs and start putting away the gazilion loads of laundry that we have done. T and I deflated the air mattress she was using whilst she was here and picked up all that stuff. So my house is starting to look somewhat normal again. I think I have done remarkably well not getting uptight about the mess. I used to go into fits over clutter and mess. I must say goodbye to my sister tonight. Who knows how long it will be before I see her again. She keeps telling me she is moving closer but I keep waiting. It sure would be nice to have her around. I have long given up hope that the rest of the family will move here.

The canadian is leaving as well today. The man is a virtual change dispenser. I swear to god everywhere he walked, change trailed on the ground behind him. It's crazy. He's the type of guy you want to walk behind at a arcade. If I was a thief I could have picked every cent up I found and probably called it rent. ....but then again it was probably canadian money and that's just no good to me. I can't say I didn't enjoy his company. He is witty and has a contagious laugh. Not to mention that we had fun calling him the ambassador to Canada and require that he answer all our questions....all of them!Goodbye Tat and Canadian Man! It's been fun.

Tidbits, Canadians, Sisters

2009-03-31T15:40:00.000-04:00

Well Tat convinced me to start a new journal since I couldn't even remember the email I used for my last one...therefore I couldn't get the password. Oh well..no big loss. It's been an interesting week here in E-town. What with the wedding on saturday and a visit from my sister and her canadian friend Michael. I am not sure why I feel the need to say that he is canadian, other that it's just fun to say and I feel as though I have gained some sort of higher status having a foreigner staying at my house. Crowding up my space with his canadian clothing, his canadian video games, and his shoes..that have..that's right, walked the streets of Toronto. I feel like a legend. Ok, not really but you get my drift.

Kendrick is off work this week and we have done a whole lot of relaxing and hanging out at home. Really exciting we are, considering it's our honeymoon and ideally we should probably be off to some remote island. Lounging around on the sand while lizards dangle from the trees and hermit crabs nip at our toes. But that's not our style.

Seeing my sister has been wonderful. Sometimes after I haven't seen her for a spell I forget how loud and outgoing she is..oh did I mention pushy?? I love it. It's like she has diarrhea of the mouth and no amount of immodium AD is going to cure it. She really could be a spokesperson for anyone who has anything they want said but just can't bring themselves to get up on the soap box to say it. She could have out talked Hitler and made him feel two inches tall had she been given the chance. I give her credit..there is never wondering what she is thinking, she will never have to wish she had said something but missed the opportunity. Can you imagine that?? I mean, just yesterday I wanted to tell the slow ass cashier at the super market to rip off her fake nails so that she could more effectively type in my produce at a faster pace than she was. I wanted to tell her I was upset about her placing a huge bag of potatoes in with my soft bagels. But no, I couldn't bring myself to it..and now the opportunity has passed. Tatyana would never allow that. She would have had her crying whilst she stood over her with a whip saying, "work faster....we haven't got all day!!"