The creepy crawlies

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

men

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

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

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??

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

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

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

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

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 !