Friday Findings

Yay for Friday!  It's definitely been a full moon week.  I can always tell it's a full moon because of the insanity levels of the requests that come through the phone lines at work AND because of my complete inability to cope with bullshit.  Because I'm aware of this, I try NOT to respond or react to much of anything during a full moon.  I just put it on the back burner and decide to deal with it until the moon wanes.  That approach seems to work to a certain extent.

My toe is not getting any better - I knew you were wondering.  But, all the skin has been eaten off by this acid concoction in a bottle. 

I didn't sleep well last night.  I don't know why.  I drank 3 beers and was VERY tired, but then couldn't sleep.  It was hot.  The air was still.  The husband had the house closed down like Ft. Knox in anticipation of a storm so there was absolutely no air movement.  Then the weather radio went off a few times and the dog's ears were bothering him so he was shaking his head quite a bit.  So I just decided to give up on it at 5:55 a.m.  That time is important because I was going to get in the shower at 6:10.  But - daughter #1 got up earlier, much earlier, than usual and is currently in the shower, where she's been for 20 minutes - draining the entire hot water tank.  It will be noon before I get showered now. 

On a positive note - the deck is functional again!!!  The awning looks great and blocks the sun just as we had expected and hoped.  I take back what I said earlier about my inlaws because it was actually my father-in-law that spent the last 3 days over here driving my husband to complete that project.  I appreciate that about him.  He likes to get shit done and pushes my husband to get moving.  AND also he mowed my grass while he was here!  Love those people!

Wednesday night the prodigal son informed me he's now flunking a required course.  It's exactly less than 10 school days before graduation and he's flunking a class and may not graduate.  I would be lying if I said I reacted calmly.  (See notes above about information received during full moon)  I wasn't totally crazy in my response to him, I merely suggested that he's going to look and feel like a fucking fool when we are all at the ceremony and he doesn't walk the stage.  And he'd feel even more stupid when he has to return all his gifts.  After about 10 minutes, I had to leave the room because my blood pressure was so high I thought the top of my head might pop right off. 

About 45 minutes later, he tells me he checked his grade online and now he's passing.  I didn't ask.  I just said, "oh Good."  I really need to learn to not get myself all in a tizzy over shit when dealing with him.  But the picture he'd painted about this teacher was pretty colorful and bleak and had me pretty riled up.  But life is like that - some people are easier to deal with than others - I've always made him fight his own battles and he's usually successful.  I didn't tell him, but I was about 2 seconds from fighting this one for him, because I was NOT going to have some bitch take away his ability to graduate - I NEED him to graduate.  Thank goodness I don't have to kick that teacher's ass afterall.  My toe hurts.

Oh!  Good news!  I may have gotten out of going on the Sams's Club shopping excursion with the crazies!!!  Yep!  I'm good.  Unfortunately, my excuse is that I need to attend the funeral of a friend's mom.  That part is not so exciting, but the fact that it perfectly conflicts with the shopping date is quite convenient! 

Corn

Okay, so I know it's kind of gross and all but when you get to be my age you'll appreciate this kind of shit and understand that it's NOT gross - it's part of growing older and frankly, it's what makes you cool!

So I have this corn on my pinkie toe - I guess that's what it is - it's a bump and it hurts - so it's either a tumor or a corn - I'm treating for the latter and if that works then my diagnosis was accurate.  If, on the other hand, it doesn't go away and continues to grow then I'll definitely consider the tumor thing.

So me and daughter #1 are at the store and I buy these "corn pads."  And as soon as she saw me pick them up and put them in the cart she's all, "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW gross - sick.  Who has a corn?"  I mean seriously?  When I buy zit medicine do I yell out in the store that she has zits?  No, but likely because I still do too and I need the medicine as much as she does.  Corns and zits - am I a teenager or a middle aged pre-menopausal nutcase?  It's no wonder I'm so fucking confused all the time.

Well, I don't know who has a fucking corn or TOE the size of these corn pads but they are huge and do NOT stay on.  "Place on the affected  (aka fucked up) area and leave in place for 48 hours."  48 hours?  Mine didn't stay on for 15 minutes.  I went through an entire packet of those things in ONE DAY. 

So back to the store I went - this time to get some corn MEDICINE in liquid form and some corn cushions - the concoction has like 4 oz. of this liquid and THREE pads.  I am still confused.  Well, that damned pad wouldn't stay on EITHER.  So I came up with this little nifty contraption:

Yep.  That's right people - it's a TOE CONDOM.  I know you're fucking jealous as hell.  I'm a freakin' genius and also I have really cute feet.  I might also have a piece of sock fuzz in between my 2nd and 3rd toe, but I can't be sure.  Well that little stroke of brilliance right there may just be what saves this pinkie toe.  That corn is FINALLY going away - with the help of that liquid corn medication - which is ACID by the way.  But when I drank some I didn't feel like I caught a buzz so I figured it must be a different kind of acid, so I decided to just use it on my toe as the label suggested.  And not only has it nearly eaten off that corn, almost all the skin on the adjacent toe is gone too! 

Getting old ROCKS!!  But today, I was able to wear my 4" heels all day without a corn pad so I'm thinking I'm well on the road to recovery!

Dry Cleaning & Homeless People

Here I am!!  Hi!  Sorry to have been absent for a few days - I got all caught up in my the prodigal son's senior prom.  Good grief - I'm STILL exhausted.  It's NUTS - the amount of money and the ends to which we must travel for prom.  In my day, we didn't ride in limos - we drove our shitty assed cars and liked it.  But not anymore - oh HELL NO - must have a limo, or in the prodigal son's case - a party bus.  That's right -  a party bus.  And then the parents follow them around ALL day taking pictures - Jesus - I woke up the next day expecting him to be gone and on his honeymoon what with all the hooplah that was going on - but instead he was still here and single. 

So on prom day, the prodigal son decided his $7 million rented shirt was too big and he refused to wear it.  So we went in hunt of a white dress shirt at the house.  And THAT is when it hit me - I'd taken that basket of dry cleaning to the cleaners in.... OCTOBER.  I am not shitting you here people - OCTOBER and it JUST NOW occurred to me that I'd taken it in.  No worries, right?!  I'll just call Monday and ask them and they'll say, "Yes dumbass alzheimer's patient, your clothes are right here waiting for you."

WRONG!  I called today and they have NOTHING there that belongs to me.  What.the.fuck.  Now dammit, these clothes have been sitting in a laundry basket for 2+ fucking years waiting to go to the cleaners, I took them in last October - I NEED them as clearly they are things I wear all the fucking time!!!  Well I distinctly remember counting the pieces when I handed them over last fall - 9.  9 pieces.  It's all coming back to me now like it was just....last October.  And the only things I can recall I took in were 2 black sundresses (I fucking love loved those dresses too), 2 of the husband's dress shirts and the PANTS to his fucking suit.  Okay - so keep up - I know, math is not my strong suit either, but I had the 7 yr old figger it out for me - that means that there are 4 pieces there in the possession of some homeless fuck that I have no clue what they are - NONE.  Important pieces of my wardrobe no doubt and yet I was willing to pay money to have them cleaned. 

I am so pissed - I don't think the husband has anything to wear to graduation now and that means I'll have to take him shopping and frankly I'd rather pluck my nose hairs.  Christ.  The insanity around here just NEVER ends.  And I'm sick about the whole thing.  I really am. I wished I'd NEVER fucking remembered I'd taken that shit into the cleaners.  When you get alzheimers, I wish it would stay put and not just conveniently fade in and out on its own free will. This is ALL my inlaw's fault for cleaning out my closets and building me these wonderful drawers and shelves and organization shit last fall.  If they had never done that, that basket of shittin' clothes would still be in my closet safe and sound.  I'll be certain to let them have it next time I see them.

Zzzzzz - More benign boring shit ramblings

I can't sleep.  I need to check the lunar calendar to see if we're coming up on a full moon because most often when I can't sleep that is the case.  Last night I took 2 benadryl washed down with 2 beers.  That should have been enough to knock my ass out for the night and into today.  I did fall immediately asleep.  And then 1/2 hour later, the phone rang.  Then a few hours after that, the cat got into the house and the husband and my other son were in my room hunting him down.  Then I was awoken by a mouse eating marshmallows in the garage a few hours after that.  I finally gave up at 5:30 and got out of bed. 

My mind doesn't seem to be reeling with insane thoughts and nagging comments.  My to-do list doesn't seem unreasonably impossible.  So I've no explanation for this inability to close my eyes and sleep the night through. 

Last evening, the prodigal son and I went to town to pick up his tux for prom, which is Saturday.  We had such a great time, chatting in the car, singing to the radio, conversing our way through the 2 hour process it took to pick up a pre-ordered rental tux that cost more than the average purchased suit.  What a racket!  And I intended to use the time alone with him to have a little come to Jesus meeting with him and get some things on the table and lay down the law.  Things like - get your ass out of bed in the morning.  Important shit like that - things he needs to know as he moves into adulthood.  But, I didn't want to spoil the moment.  I kept having flashbacks to my senior year and how I felt and how I viewed things and how much I wanted my freedom and to be trusted and viewed as a responsible adult.  So, in the vein of keeping the peace and enjoying my time with him (which is really so rare), I kept my mouth shut and instead just hung out and listened to HIM. 

Maybe that approach will lead to greater peace and he will instantly be cured of his inability to wake up in the morning.  That's the enabler in me talking again, by the way.  I am guilty of that.  Enabling him.  Enabling everyone.  Making excuses for them, finding the good and convincing myself the good outweighs the bad and it will all magically fix itself one day.

I may have ruined a kid's life this week - but others are trying to convince me that I likely saved the kid's life instead.  See - the enabler in me believes the kid should have gotten a break, the guilt of what ultimately happened to him is overwhelming.  Maybe that's why I can't sleep? 

And also, I am concerned that my earbuds on my iPod are making my ear flap thingies stick out because they are very sore.

Hillbillies

So there I was, all like "Sure!  Why not!  Do whatever you think is best!"  And then, I came home to find this:

That's my deck.  What's left of it.  Three days ago it was actually a functional deck complete with safety railings and all the floor pieces.  That's before the husband asked "What absolutely MUST be done before graduation?"  And we had a long discussion about putting lipstick on the pig and calling it good because we are down to 3 weeks and it's supposed to rain this weekend so really, we have ONE weekend.  Originally we were going to re-stain the deck prior to graduation - so it looked all pretty and inviting and such.  But then time got away from us and also the money tree hasn't yet bloomed this spring, so we determined we would do the following to the deck:

1. Clean it
2. Clean the table/glass
3. Fix 2 boards that were warped
4. Fix the 2-3 pieces of railing that were warped
5. Hang an awning that we he has in our his 40' bus

THAT'S IT.  Well, he did not mention to me that #5 above involved a complete fucking de-construct on the deck and also a million dollar investment in what appear to be railroad ties.  Ya know, when I saw that I was thinking, What.The.Fuck.  This shit would have been good information to fucking share DURING the discussion about the deck.  This is not the kind of "surprise" you spring on your over-stressed out wife 3 weeks before a graduation celebration.  I'm curious now as to just how fucking big and heavy this awning is?  Could we have put it on our roof instead of having the roof replaced?  I mean, surely I could have found a more functional use for this giant PURPLE awning?  Yes.  It's purple. 

See, he came to own the awning when he was married to someone else and she had this affinity for purple - all things purple.  So everything that resides in that 40' Mary Poppins Bag on Wheels is purple.  We've been together almot 10 years and I've yet to see everything in that bus - I bet if I took inventory we'd never have to buy another fucking thing in our lives. 

So now - our deck is what you see above.  And the steps to the deck now look like this:

Those are shavings and spare parts left over from cutting some boards for the deck deconstruction of 2010.  I suggested that a tarp or piece of painter's plastic likely could have saved us him hours of time on the clean up and asked why on earth he would do that?  He's a contractor and remodels other peoples' homes for a living - I KNOW he does NOT do this shit at their house - why does he do it at ours? 

Me:  Seriously?  Why wouldn't you put down a tarp to catch that shit?

Him: What's the big deal?

Me:  Well now it's going to be a pain in the ass to get all that shit cleaned up.

Him:  I was hoping my dad would do it but he never did.

Me:  Likely because he thought it was as fucking stupid as I do that you didn't put down a tarp.

Him:  It's not a big deal - I'll just sweep it under the deck

Me:  YOU ARE THE BIGGEST HILLBILLY I HAVE EVER MET AS IS EVIDENCED BY YOUR DAMNED BUS.

Purchased with real, not Monopoly money that was worked for, not won, with purpose and intentionally, not as a trade to save your life from Guido the Debt Collector.  God help me.

Boring Shit that will Bore you to TEARS

Sorry to have been remiss in posting the last few days - it seems I was busy - doing, um, er, something terribly important! 

Last Friday night, the crazies came over to address graduation invitations - I was fortunate enough to run them out in about 2 hours so that I could spend some quality time with the other cousin!  We had a grand ol' time, sittin' in the garage, swilling back the booze, bitching bragging about our parenting skills and how good we are at it.  We stayed up pretty late, later than we should have, but we had a lot of ground to cover!  Fun times!

Saturday, I got up at the ass crack of dawn (8:30) and started getting busy doing important shit like drinking coffee, chatting with my cousin some more, and bitching about some more benign shit that grates on my nerves.  I can't share it with you right now, because I'm no longer on THAT rant and it doesn't interest me any longer.  I'm sure I'll come back to it another time becuase it seems that is the pattern.

Then I did a whole shit ton of chores INCLUDING going to hell Walmart on a Saturday afternoon with daughter #1.  The house doesn't look any cleaner and I can't really recall which chores I did, it appears none - but I know I did them because my hands look old and wrinkled and also I remember my feet hurt pretty bad that night.  Late in the day, the prodigal son dropped by to "clean his room."  This act consists of picking up 3 dirty glasses and army crawling them from the basement stairs to the dishwasher.  He had to army crawl because he had on his "work" boots (why that kid has work boots totally escapes me - he does no work) and they were muddy and I had just cleaned my floors.  He was too lazy to take them off, so he army crawled around - his friends (who had on cleaner shoes) just stood there and laughed at him.  The whole thing was really pathetic on more levels than I can even describe.  But I did laugh because he is funny!

And also he gets on my nerve.  I have one left.  It's VERY ragged and old and aged.  He is on it right now.  Hasn't had time to get his prescription filled.  Didn't go to physical therapy because he had a game.  Can't go to class in the morning because he needs to get shit done.  He makes life far more complicated than it needs to be.  He really does.  If you set your priorities - in the correct order - and stick to them and follow that list - then life is just a tad easier.  I wonder how long it will take him to figure this shit out.  I'm trying to remember how long it took me, but maybe I'm not yet there so that's why I can't remember?

Anywho - Sunday I did the sum total of JACKSHIT.  I was freakin' tired because the husband made me stay up quite late Saturday night - drinking and listening to music.  I kept begging him to end the night and let us go to bed, but he kept insisting we stay up and drink more.  He's such a lush.  So on Sunday, I felt like crap and didn't do much of anything. I  tried to pretend I was fine and got up and acted busy  - but at 10 a.m. I took a nap. 

On Monday morning, I got up late, found the car on empty, hit the curb with my tire on my way around a roundiebout and then forgot to pay summer camp dues.  I officially grounded myself from the booze for 3 weeks and my wonderful husband ran all my errands and filled up my car with gas while I was at work. It's good to have him.  I love him.  He's good to me.  And Monday evening http://www.raisinaruckus.typepad.com/ came over to watch daughter #1 play softball and we ate ice cream sundaes FOR DINNER!!!!!  She called me the devil!!!  I like that!

I know - this is the most horrendous post ever and not funny or entertaining or even worthy of your time it took to read it.  I apologize.  I just wanted to touch base - - I'll come up with something better in the near future.  Oh and guess what - I THINK my other two sons have moved back in.  YAY!!!

Freaky Friday

Not much today - very busy!  Getting ready for graduation - which is now in only one month.  I DID get teary eyed today thinking about it as I ran errands.  But then I cussed myself out and got back on task!  Whew!  My dear friend agreed to make my photo montage video for me  - YAY!  Thank you so much!  She's so much cooler and creative than I am - I'm so glad she agreed to do it!  And also, she knows some kick ass music and will help me in that regard.

Tonight the crazies are coming over to address invitations for the group graduation party.  I hope they write fast and get on down the road quickly because the other cousin is coming over to hang out and spend the night with me!  I had to scour a bathroom so she can shower in the morning - I am sure glad she lets goats come in her house because otherwise this bathroom would likely not pass her inspection.  It just does NOT come clean - EVER.  It's next on the evergrowinglistofshittodotothishouse.  Complete tear out and replacement.  Sad part is, it's the kids' primary bathroom - and I'll still have some nasty rotting bathroom in the master - one day.  One day - MY time will come!

That's it for now - the crazies will be here any minute! 

Get off Other People's Boobies

As you know, my sister-in-law recently had a baby.  That's my nephew.  He's cute, but I think I already mentioned that.  Anyway - she has decided she will nurse the baby - and that is 100% HER choice.  I did not nurse my children.  I tried with the first one and it just didn't "fit" for me, so I switched to bottle feeding and formula about 5 weeks into it and then started both of my other two immediately on the bottle.  That was MY choice.  I didn't really give a shit what anyone thought, and it seems like back then, quite a few of us bottle fed our babies - we weren't into the whole nursing scene for some reason so I was kind of part of the "in" crowd.

All of my children have been very healthy and oddly intelligent.  Yet, the pro-breast milk movement will claim that bottle fed babies are less healthy and also not as smart.  I guess if I had not bottle fed these 3 kids, there is a good damned chance none of them would have ever experienced so much as a sniffle and also, they would have had near genius IQ's.  I know a few women who exclusively nursed and they have some of the sickliest children I've ever seen in my life and some even have struggles with learning - so I'm NOT convinced that breast feeding is the only way to go to ensure health and brilliance in your offspring. 

That's the background.  Here's the current:  The new mom made a comment on her FB status that the breastfeeding thing rather "binds her down" - which it does - it puts the burden of care 100% on the mother whilst the father is out flitting about doing whatever.  That's ONE reason I never liked breastfeeding but this isn't about me.  So anyway - she makes that statement.  To which she is entitled and I can totally relate - TOTALLY RELATE.

So her "friends" on FB pipe in (of course):

So Agree. But your doing the best thing now. That is nursing. Way to go mom!!!



That's right! God made women to breast feed their baby because HE knew it might be the only time you get to relax a little. Besides all of the other benifits from it, cheaper, rewarding, bonding, etc. I'm very proud of you! Remember, that first little fat double chin is from YOUR milk!
 
Not to mention the he helps burn a whole lot of calories!


Ya know what?  Shut.the.fuck.up.  For those of us who have chosen to NOT breastfeed or are considering that the job may not be a fit for us, we've already generated enough self-induced mommy guilt without having you lactation nazis out there making these kinds of stupid fucking remarks. 
 
You're doing the best thing now.   I'm sorry - but the BEST thing to is make certain you and baby are BOTH comfortable and well nourished.  And if one of those components in missing from the equation - then it's NOT the best thing. 
 
God made women to breastfeed.  No, God did not make us TO breastfeed.  And who the hell determined God was in a fact a HE?  I find the entire comment above to be sexist.
 
....helps burn a whole lot of calories....  Like I said, I didn't breastfeed and I was back in my pre-maternity gear by the time I returned to work at 6 weeks each time. I'm not convinced of this little "fact" either.
 
When the hell did women stop supporting each other and start taking a stance on this subject matter and taking sides?  Ya know what sister-in-law - YOU DO WHATEVER THE HELL FEELS RIGHT AND COMFORTABLE TO YOU.  If you want to breast feed that baby and it suits you - then do it.  But if it just doesn't work out for whatever reason - that is fine also - and it's no body else's business how you're gettin' that baby fed. 
 
Fucking nosey assed, judgemental people drive me nuts.  And no, I do not have boobie breastfeeding envy if that's what you're thinking.  As a matter of fact - I ADMIRE women who have the tenacity to do this shit for longer than 5 weeks.  I honestly do.  It escapes me how they could pull it off because I'm selfish and wanted my own body back to myself after birthing the children, but I totally admire women who can do this.  And if they cannot, I certainly do NOT go around telling them shit that guilts them even more, like "It's the BEST thing."  - It's AN OPTION people.  And there are advantages and disadvantages to BOTH. 

That's all I've got to say about that.  (for the moment)

Lists - Part I

I like to make lists - they help me to stay on task and also it helps me to remember things.  Sometimes I forget things - things I say, things I do, things I commit to while drinking - so I like to write this shit down.  Also, list making helps to break down GIHUGIC projects into small, edible bites and facilitates the whole feelingoodboutgettinshitdone thingie mabopper dealie (sorry for the highly technical and specialized jargon there folks).

Anyway - I've been thinking - I really need to make a list of all the things I'm going to do when my kids move out on their own and I go to visit them at their new digs.  I really don't want to blow it and let them down and forget all the things I have been promising them their entire lives - it's important when you promise a child something that you actually live up to the promise.  I'm a woman of my word, so to the list making I head!

To my favoritest son in the whole universe, here is what you can expect from me when you move out of our family home and I come to see you: (these are, of course, listed in no particular order because I'm all about spotenaity and I don't want to be locked into any certain regiment)

1. I will write my name in black permanent marker on whichever chair I decide is mine at the table, in your living room and also in your new car whenever you get a brand new one.
2. I will help you wash your brand new car - with a lava rock.
3. I will scour your entire house as if every room and every items belongs to me and likely take whatever I find that looks interesting or expensive and claim it as my own.
4. Sometimes I will just take benign shit that I see laying around - things like boxes of toothpicks, or maybe the shoelaces out of your new sneakers.
5. I will always eat gum and lollipops at your house and when I'm tired of licking or chewing them, I will just toss the candy item wherever I'm standing or sitting. 
6. I will not actually wash my hands, but instead just wet them, then wipe them with your freshly washed hand towel.
7. I will never actually sit over the hole in the toilet, but I'll get pretty damned close.  Of course, I also will not wipe up any pee that is on the seat or floor as a result - I mean seriously - GROSS - you do NOT expect me to touch pee?
8. I will trade my smoking habit for chewing tobacco and I will use your new glasses as spitters and fill them all up with gallons of spit from my mouth and then I will leave them laying around wherever the hell I want.
9. Of course, when I arrive at your house, I will, obviously, unload my car of all trash into your side yard or driveway - whichever you have is fine - I'm not picky.
10. I will invite all of my friends over and if you have provided me a key to your home - I will make certain to get a copy to all of my friends so they can also enjoy your home while you are not there and also so I do not have to be present to let them in.
11. If I must take a shower at your home, you will find my wet towel thrown on the bedroom floor, along with my dirty underwear and socks (turned inside out and wadded in a ball of course).
12. If I need to wash that dirty laundry of mine while I'm there and you have your clothes in the washer/dryer already - it's okay - I'll just take them out and throw them on the floor or maybe set them on a nearby counter for you.
13. When I do bring my friends over, unannounced and they are hungry, we will dig through your cupboards and say polite things like, "There's NEVER anything good to fucking eat at this fucking house."  And then we will call out to God and little baby Jesus about how irritating this is.
14. When you do get a brand new car and you take me on a ride in it - I will definitely help you drive by controlling the music - I'm the passenger - my comfort and happiness is what's most important.
15. If you host Christmas or a birthday party, I'll be certain to not smile the entire time - I may even wear my iPod headphones and pretend to be listening to music so I don't ever have to actually engage in a conversation with anyone else in attendance.
16. If I don't feel like washing off my plate (which I never will - trust me) - I'll just throw it in the trash so you don't have to bother with it.
17. When you get a job and you need that job to put food on your table and pay your bills, I'll be sure to text you 25 times a day asking you if I can bring my friends over later that night.  And when you don't text back, I'll start calling you - every 3 minutes until you finally respond to me.
18. If you have any movies I like or think I might want to watch, I'll just take them out of the case and sneak them into my purse, leaving the case behind so you only THINK you have the movie - oh the surprise you'll get when you go to watch it!!!
19. I will be certain to either break, lose or give away every gift you ever give me, if you ever give me a gift. 
20. When I arrive at your house and find you making a large meal and it's obvious to me that you've been working diligently on this meal for quite a while, I will be certain to announce that I've already eaten McDonalds on the way and won't be eating any of the food you have prepared.

That's all for now - I will continue to add to this list as I remember all the sweet and wonderful things you've done for me over the years so I can be certain to repay you in your adulthood!

Housekeeping Tips from the Bleach Blonde - Part I

Grandmother A was an immaculate housekeeper and having spent nearly every summer with her growing up (or so it seemed), I also learned the fine art of keeping a home and being the perfect house wife. Because not many of us in my generation had the luxury of having a mother that didn't work outside of the home, I'd like to take this opporunity to share with you just a few of the housekeeping skills I was taught.  You'll want to bookmark this post in your Favorites so you can refer to it often as it definitely contains some VERY important information about keeping a respectful home.

All ironing is performed on a single day of the week. As the clothing is washed and dried throughout the week, merely place your wrinkled garments on a table and sprinkle with water and roll them in a bed sheet. Keep them in the fridge until ironing day. Anything and everything cotton is ironed. This includes tea towels; boxer shorts; handkerchiefs, sheets, etc. On ironing day, all you have to do is unwedge the giant ball of clothing from the fridge shelves, open it up and dig in! Just set yourself up an iron (or two) in a TV room, put a nipple on your scotch bottle, turn on an old sappy black & white movie and BOOM! Ironing day is a SNAP!

Tired of those unsightly hairs, dust bunnies and stray crumbs that settle between the step and the riser on your staircase carpet? NOT to worry people! Grab yourself a firm bristled, short handled hand broom, put a nipple on your scotch bottle, then start at the top step and just start brushing the carpet. Start at all the meeting points of the angles - brush firmly with an inward motion. Once you've finished all three "walls" of the step - just brush that crap on down to the next step. Carefully slide your bootie down one step lower, don't forget your scotch though and continue this process until you've successfully brushed each step thoroughly. It's good to perform this task once a week as there is quite a bit of foot traffic on the steps and those little crevices do tend to attract all kinds of unwanted dust, hair and crumbs.

Do you hate dirty sterling silver as much as I do? I mean, what IF the Queen unexpectedly showed up and you had to serve her, but all you had were cabinets full of dirty sterling? Well, there's no need to worry about being caught off-guard by a visit from the Queen - nosiree - just empty your curio cabinets on a weekly basis and polish that shit! It's easy! All you need is a 55 gallon vat of silver cleaner and a bottle of scotch and you're good to go! You can easily knock this chore out in a morning - perhaps even before the movie starts and you engage in ironing!

That's likely all the helpful hints for the day you can absorb, so I'll stop there - but remember - BOOKMARK THIS as you will want to refer to it often.  And look for more informative posts about housekeeping here in the future!  I cannot take this information to the grave with me people - I must share it so you can ALL be perfect little housekeepers!

ITT's HAIR

Daughter #1's first softball game of her high school career was Monday night.  It was fun!  They're a young team, first time out together, a bit of a struggle - but they'll figure it out.  But this entry isn't about that game, because well, if you wanted to know what happened, you should have gotten off your lazy ass and come and watched it for yourself.

What this is about is who what I saw there:

It's Cousin Itt!!!   I.shit.you.not.  There I was, just sitting there all minding my own business and cheering the team on and I looked down and WHOA!  WHEN.THE.FUCK DID COUSIN ITT GET HERE?   And also, why did no one tell me?  I squealed out in excitement, "Itt's here!!!!" 

And my husband was all, "What?" 

ITT - ITT'S HERE - I am not even kidding about this shit - look - there ITT is!!! 

"That's Crystal Gayle,"  he argued. 

THAT IS NOT CRYSTAL GAYLE - she has black hair - THAT is ITT!!! 

"Crystal Gayle." 

ITT. 

"Maybe she bleached her hair, you're not a real blonde either." 

I AM a real blonde fucker - bite your tongue in public, everyone knows I'm a real blonde and that is NOT Crystal Gayle - it is Cousin ITT - ask Itt.  I dare you!

Finally the game ended and we had to leave and I didn't get a chance to see if Itt had on sunglasses or not, but I KNEW it was Itt.  At dinner, I asked Daughter #1 who's mother Itt was and she was all, "Jesus Mother - you're mean, but that was nasty."   Who is the mean one here?  You tell me.  I was not being critical, I just wanted to get Itt's autograph.

Maybe at the next game because something tells me Itt won't be getting itt's hair cut anytime soon.

Walking with Sisters

So, today, my cousin over at http://www.raisinaruckus.typepad.com/ was texing me and then she's all, "OMG!  Sometime I'll have to tell you the story about blah blah blah - it's too long to text."  What.the.fuck.  You do not tell people you have a really long story to share then tell them you'll tell them another time.  The statement alone just begs for the story to be told right.then.and.there.  So, I suggested she come over to my place at lunch and I'd kick her ass in some power walking we could go for a walk since she has been eating nothing but Easter chocolate for the last month.  And while she was walking then she could talk.

Well, she couldn't talk because we were going up a big ass hill, so I did the talking until we reached the top.  Then she was able to speak.  The story was good, and juicy and well worth hearing!  I loved the story!  But even more than the story - I loved being with her!  It was such a warm, sunny beautiful spring day, and it almost seemed sinful to be out on a walk during the day, with a friend.  It's a treat in which I never get to indulge. 

I don't have many gal friends - not ones that I can just hang out and walk around and gossip with and also I don't have any sisters.  She doesn't have any sisters either.  And our other cousin doesn't have any sisters.  So in a way - we're like sisters.  Except those two are older than me (but not by much anymore - they used to be much older than me, but over time, I've caught up to them somehow) and they lived in the same town pretty much and so they have always been like sisters.  I have a sister-in-law, but she has her own sisters and it's not like I can just flounce in and be all, "hello!  I'm your sister now too!" So you see, I'm just kind of stuck out here - sisterless.

I was the goofy proper one - the one that was off learning which fork to use at a fancy restaurant that serves dinner with 12 forks, or being taught how to iron underwear or sheets, or being taught ballroom dancing or the piano or some other totally worthless socially acceptable talent that all nice young ladies should have. 

They were the ones that always got to pal around and have fun - going barefoot outside, cutting their feet, smoking behind the shed or some other kick ass childhood activity that I wasn't allowed to do.  When they went to college, they hung around together too and even had alot of the same friends.  So today, taking a sinful walk around the neighborhood with my cousin - smack dab in the middle of the day - was delightful!  IT BROUGHT ME JOY!  The ONLY thing that would have made it better were if our other cousin was there with us!! 

Raisinaruckus doesn't work outside the home - well she does - but she sets her own schedule - she does whatever the hell she wants whenever the hell she wants whatever the hell her kids need her to do whenever the hell they demand she do it.  I envy that.  I loved being in her world today - walking.  Outside.  In the sunshine.  In the middle of the day.   No wonder she's always so damned happy and full of joy.  I would be too!  And also that is likely why she allows ball bouncing in her house.  She doesn't have the stress and anticipation of having to get to an office wherein she will sit and rot away into a shell of the person she once dreamed of being every morning spend her day in highly important meetings and make life-altering decisions about the universe- so ball bouncing likely doesn't piss her off.  She also allows sheep in her house.  And my other cousin has about 482 dogs and once had a llama in her house. Maybe I'm missing a gene.  (I should likely get tested for that). 

It was a nice walk and we had a nice conversation and my dog pissed on every mailbox in a 4 block radius and also took a shit in someone's elephant grass.  We just walked along and ignored him like we didn't know who he belonged to.  And her son rode his bike along with us, thinking how weird  cool we were for walking and talking and soaking up the sun on a spring day.  I wish I'd taken some pictures along the way - maybe next time!  And when we got back to my house, smoked a pack of cigarettes and laughed at ourselves we ate a nice healthy lunch of baby greens and tofu with fresh fruit sprinkled all over it.   I think we should do this every week!

STFU

I'm no political guru.  90% of the time I don't even understand the dribble that comes out of these people's mouths.  99% of the time I don't understand the dribble when it's been repeated and summarized in print.  But I DO have a keen ear for bullshit and can smell it a mile away.

I am going to say it now and I'm going to say it proud.  I am happy the health care reform act passed.  I am.  I am happy to see that this country is standing up and is willing to do something that is scary and different and charting new territory.  I don't know if everything in the bill is 100% correct, we all know shit can be changed along the way - it's not the golden tablets, but it's a step in the right direction.  We cannot just continue to sit here year after year and hope for something to change for the better - you have to actually stand up and start pushing the wheel - a little at a time - to get the momentum going. Or, I guess you could shit in one hand and wish in the other and see which one fills up first?

And I'm so sick and damned tired of hearing people blame shit on Obama.  I mean, honestly?  "you didn't see Bush doing this kind of shit" - I DIDN'T SEE BUSH DOING ANY KIND OF SHIT - I DIDN'T SEE HIM DOING A DAMNED THING.  Obama picked KU to win the NCAA basketball title - he was wrong as usual.  Jesus Christ people - it was a basketball bracket - get real.

And for all the people who are certain the apocolypse is near - QUITCHER BITCHIN' - you'll be gone before any of this change affects you.  Remember?  2012?  We're all history according to you - so why don't you do the rest of us a favor and go out and blow your retirement funds and pump this economy back into shape so that those of us who survive the great ending of the earth in 2012 can have a better world. 

And if you don't share my view - that's your right - I don't expect everyone to share my view and I don't expect or intend to sway you to see it my way.  But I do expect you to shut your damned mouth and quit trying to convince me that Obama is the anti-Christ that is here to lead us to a living Hell.

I can't even be ANYWHERE anymore without fear of some right-winger turning ANY statement into that of a political nature.  I told a friend I went to the grocery store and was apalled at the price of cheese.  He turned it into a political debate - thank the liberals for the price of your cheese.  I am not even making this shit up.  I'm going to start making a list of everyone that has pissed me off with their putting of politics intoevery conversation topic and one by one start cross checking that list against my Christmas Card list, Facebook friend list and every other fucking list I keep.  And then I'm going to cross them off ALL the lists. 

For how many years did I sit here under the Bush administration?  For how many years did I quietly shut my fucking mouth and NEVER slam HIM.  I never made racial slurs, I never paralleled him to any zoo animal.  I never ever blamed all the wrong in the world on HIM.  I did laugh at him.  Because he was such a horrible public speaker - I mean WHO DIDN'T laugh at him?  He said some dumb fucking shit, admit it - but NEVER was my laughing driven my mean, hateful spiteful feelings.  NEVER.

It is sickening to me to listen to the right-wingers at this point.  The blatant bigotry alone is enough to make me puke up my fruit smoothie.  What the fuck year is this?  Are you fucking kidding me?  We STILL have this kind of IGNORANT racial bias - and amongst the supposed well-educated and successful.  Makes me sad and and also embarrassed to be an American.  So to all you right-wingers who cannot shut your mouths and feel compelled to degrade the President at every given chance - YOU are giving OUR free country a BAD BAD name - YOU should shut.your.fucking.mouth and remember where you live and what we stand for.  And also, you are no longer welcome in my home if you cannot just Shut.The.Fuck.Up.

A Life Without Joy?

My cousin over at http://www.raisinaruckus.typepad.com/ seems to think that I never find joy in anything.  She made this statement after I suggested that the novelty of her new dishwasher would soon wear off when she discovers that she's the only person in her house that is capable of loading and unloading the damned thing.  I'm just a realist is all.  But I do find joy in many things.  So if you came here today looking for a laugh - you might want to skip this post and go to some of my older material.  Because today - I'm proving little Miss Polly Anna that I, too, have joy in my heart.

Tuesday, I arrived at work in a full on rant.  I was irritated or frustrated, or maybe both, with someone at Company X.  And I was emailing with a fellow employee back and forth, ranting and raving and cussing and carrying on about the idiocy of the situation at hand.  And as I typed and ranted and raved and cussed, my phone dinged - I had a text.  It was from my brother, announcing the birth of his son - instantly my heart was filled with joy and as I returned to my rant on email - I found that I no longer had rage in my heart and even told the recipient of the email that I could no longer rant - I'd just become an aunt and I was too happy to bitch about petty bullshit that really means nothing to me in the big scheme of things.  Just like that - one simple little text about a newborn life - turned my entire day around! 

I went to the hospital later that afternoon to see the baby and man, is he cute!  I love him!  And it reminded me of when my kids were born  - and how the instant you see their little face you are in love - immediately - the wave of love and adoration rushes over you and you're hooked for life.  And how, when the second child arrived, I worried that I would not be able to love that child the way I loved the first child, because it didn't seem possible to me to love two beings as much as you loved one.  I stressed over it for countless hours.  But the minute I laid eyes on her, I was in love.  And then I worried that the love I had for my first, had somehow been transferred to the second, until I saw them together for the first time and it was overwhelmingly amazing - I loved them both - equally and with more depth than I had ever imagined possible.  By the time I had the third one, I was less concerned about this transfer of love thing because I knew I would love this child like I loved the others and that my love for her would not, in any way, cause my love for the first two to diminish.  And I was right. 

But time passes and children grow and they develop annoying habits like smacking their lips when they eat, leaving messes everywhere they go, breaking your shit, arguing, yelling, rebeling in their own way and so on and so forth.  And you become frustrated with the process and ask yourself daily WHY DO I PUT UP WITH THIS SHIT?  When I saw my nephew at only 5 hours old, I was flashed back to each one of my kids' birth days - and the emotions I felt on each of those days came back to me like it was yesterday - the wave of love, hope, optimism - total euphoria - and THAT is why I put up with this shit from them now.  Because those feelings I felt the first day never went away - they just get pushed to the back and over shadowed by the day to day happenings of raising kids - namely those of the teen genre. 

I'd like to think that I've been a good mother to my three kids - even though I go about things a little differently than my cousin.  She always finds the positive in things and focuses on that and choosing to ignore the bad or negative aspects.  I think her attitude is admirable and a few times I've tried her approach to life.  Ignoring the blatant bullshit, choosing not to focus on it and instead steering my energy to the positive.  It felt forced and unnatural to me.  And also, it hurt.  I felt incomplete.  See, my personality dictates that I must take the bullshit that I'm dealt and turn IT into a funny story - THAT is how I deal with the nonsense part of life.  (Which is actually the part that causes us to grow and learn and love life more).  I'm not really over here just bitching, nor am I bitchy and nasty and hateful and also I do not carry a great disdain for life.  I take the obvious (the bullshit) and turn it into something funny - something that makes me laugh - something that makes others laugh - and if, by doing that, I can make ONE person laugh each day - then I'm happy. 

This is how I've always dealt with life - finding ways to laugh at myself or the situation that is affecting me.  I've transferred this on to my kids also which makes me quite proud actually.  I remember when they were younger and they would have struggles -  you know how kids are - it's new and they didn't know life was going to be full of forks in the road and that not everyone is nice and that not every teacher is on their side, and so on and so forth and they were devastated.  Or maybe they fell down in public, good Lord, the world has ended - they've been humiliated.  Well, I quickly taught them to laugh at themselves or the situation - turn it into something to be amused by.  And they've all learned that - even the 7 year old. 

Do we always go about life in this house laughing?  No.  Sometimes there are tears - sometimes you have to grieve a situation before you can buck up and deal with it.  Or sometimes the frustration is so overwhelming that the rage inside of you comes out in the form of tears.  We deal with it, we grieve, we scream, we cry, then someone cracks a joke about the matter and pretty soon we're all laughing.  And from that, we've bonded and we've experienced joy.  Joy in having one another.  Joy in being a family.  Joy in having and being offered unconditional love. 

This morning when I got up, I walked past my 14 year old's room - and there she was in her bed, along with her friend that spent the night.  They looked so grown up and it seems like only yesterday she was that newborn baby that brought me renewed  hope.  I went outside to see what cars were here and as I perused the drive and took inventory of the cars that belong to my son's friends - I felt joy - joy in the fact we provide a home where others feel welcome and comfortable, joy that I know where my 17 year old is and joy that I knew who each one of the cars belonged to. Joy that somehow I've figured out the balance of being "in" my son's life at a stage where he's likely pushing me out, yet not too far "in" that he doesn't want to be around us. 

Then I walked back into the house, and it was, of course, a shit hole of a mess, but I didn't even mind - I don't care - I need to clean it and I'm excited to clean it this morning because my new baby nephew is coming to see me today!!!  And I don't want him looking around thinking the place is a shit hole, I want him to look around and think, "man - this place is GREAT!  I'm coming back here ALL the time!"  (that's what 4 day old babies think about, you know). 

So you see my dear cousin who finds joy in operating the dishwasher, it's not that I am joyless - I just don't see the need to emote joy over a dishwasher.  Cleaning, dish washing, laundry, grocery shopping, these are all necessary tasks that I must contend with to keep this household running.  And I do them all,  somedays with less effort and bitching than others, but no.  I do not find joy in them and I never will.  And I will not pretend I ever do. 

Sleep Much?

So this morning, I almost had a stroke - AGAIN.  This seems to be a regular occurrence in my life.  It stems from PEOPLE a.k.a the prodigal son, NOT being able to get their ass out of bed.  Who in the fuck can sleep through an alarm 6" from their head for over an hour?  WHO? 

He had a dental appointment - he made the appointment, not me, so it was not I who was dictating his time.  20 minutes before he needed to leave the house to arrive there on time, I trapsed down the stairs to his room.  There he was, all snoozing away - while the freakin' alarm blared in his ear as it had been for the last hour. 

Me:  SON! 

Him:  mmphgrmmph

Me:  GET UP!  You need to leave in 20 minutes

Him:  I'm up.

Five minutes pass, no sign of him on the main floor.  Ten minutes pass, still no sign of him.  I can feel my blood pressure rising rapidly, so I throw out my coffee and quickly switch to vodka.  The husband walks in and I tell him the horrible saga - he needs to leave in 10 minutes and his ass is STILL IN BED.  Who in the FUCK cannot get out of bed in the morning?  Do you think he's on drugs?  Do you think he's stoned?  When he graduates he cannot live here any longer because I cannot take this shit another fucking day of my life. 

The husband stomps down the stairs to the son's room:

Husband:  GET UP LIKE YOUR MOM HAS BEEN TELLING YOU TO

Son:  Indecipherable screaming and bitching

The husband stomps back up the stairs and looks at me, "He's fucking ridiculous."  And he storms out of the house.  Another 5 mintues elapse and by now I'm shaking and near a nervous break-down - I again march down the stairs.

Me:    Son!  Please get up - please - you have an appointment and there is traffic and road construction and you need to leave her in 5 minutes - please get up.

Him:  Nothing. 

Finally - AT THE MOMENT he needed to leave the house - he makes an appearance in the kitchen - grumbles something and then proceeds to make himself a bowl of cereal and sits down and begins eating it - slowly - slower than I've ever seen anyone eat a bowl of cereal in my entire life.  My blood pressure was near 200/180 at this point, so I left the room and that's when I heard him get up from the table.  I thought, "oh THANK GOD!  he's going to get a move on it"  and right then is when I heard it - the cereal - a second bowl being poured.  ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?   He needed to leave 5 minutes ago and he's having the fucking last supper? 

Every day is like this.  Every single day of his life has been like this.  I have, in some way, failed him.  He doesn't know how to get up in the morning.  How did I fuck this up?  What will he do next year at college?  Sleep the entire first semester away?  What is he?  Rip Van Winkle?  For 17+ years I have been battling that kid to get him out of bed in the morning.  We've tried letting him sleep in and get detention, flipping over his mattress while he's still laying on it, cold water in the face - every single tactic you can throw at me - we've tried it. 

He is now sending up signals of wanting to live at home while going to college.  I honestly don't think there is any possible way I can do it.  I don't think I can sit by and watch him throw away thousands of dollars while he sleeps his day away. 

At least when I pissed away my paid-for college education by staying up all night and sleeping all day I had the fucking common sense to NOT do it right under my parent's noses.

What the hell happened here?

I apologize in advance for any mishappenings or typos in this blog.  I'm sitting on my deck, enjoying the beautiful spring afternoon and I'll be honest - I can't see shit on this laptop screen.  The freakin' sun is too damned bright.  I could go inside, but I already cleaned off my outdoor table, made myself a tall whiskey and lit my smoke - so I'm pretty much stuck here now.  As I was getting shit in order to come sit on the deck and enjoy the sunshine, it occurred to me that this place looks like a shithole.  I recall it used to look pretty - once.  And at least for 2 years I think it looked pretty good.  Well kempt, some landscaping, CLEAN.  Now it's just a fucking mess.  And as I was cleaning up just good enough to tolerate sitting at the table, I was wondering, what in the hell happened? 

There used to be a time when I would clean this glass top table to the point that you could see right through it.  Cleaning the underside and lifting off the glass to clean the rim and polishing and polishing the top until it was streak-free.  Now?  I wiped off the top and proclaimed it to be *good enough*, and also I made a note to NEVER EVER buy a glass table for the deck again.  I like clean shit - I do.  I love it spic and span and spotless clean, but I've lost my will to put forth that much effort as of late.

The backyard looks so fucking forlorn that I had to turn my back to it and face the house.  The barn looks like it's falling down, the landscape pond that once housed fish and lovely lilies and a relaxing fountain is now nothing more than a hole full of scum and rotten leaves.  There are no flowers.  There is little grass.  Hell, the swings and shit on the swingset are even all hanging off from a single chain.  And then there is that fucking 40' bus of my husband's.  What a fucking eye sore.  He says he's going to get rid of it.  I stopped believing him 6 years ago. 

I'm sad.  I was so excited to come out here and enjoy the deck that cost us our retirement to build - why is it such a damned mess?  I'd like to think it's  because it's too much work for my husband to tend to all of it.  As I recall, when it used to look pretty and polished - I was involved in the upkeep  - it had a woman's touch.  But ever since the summer of 2006 when I found out we had in fact not purchased 3 acres of snake-free land afterall, I ceased entering the yard at all.  It's not safe.  Snakes cannot be trusted.  They have no legs and I have a very firm commitment to not trusting anything with less than 2 legs or more than 4.  Or flying things - they are unpredictable and also not trustworthy.  So my poor husband is left to care for this 3 acres, the 2 outbuildings AND remodel the stupid interior all on his own.  He is probably totally overwhelmed.  As am I.  From the fucking mess and also because of how shitty the whole place looks.

What?  Why I don't get off this computer and quit bitching and get busy?  I TOLD YOU - THERE ARE SNAKES.  And my husband seems to think I have no clue how to operate any freakin' type of equipment - lawn tractor, rake, grill, whatever - it's a stereotypical "man" tool, it's off limits to me.  He made his bed - he better get the fuck out of it and get busy is all I have to say.

I have a slew of people coming here for the prodigal son's graduation.  I should be concerned with the mess.  But as each day passes and we get closer and closer to graduation day, I care less and less about what the fuck everyone thinks about my yard, deck or house.  They're here to celebrate a moment in my son's life, if they want to spend their time judging me then so be it.  I don't really give a shit.  I'll probably be drunk and fall in the pool anyway. 

It's funny -our perception of our own things.  Quite a few people come over and rant and rave about our deck, and how wonderful it is out here.  I think they're just being polite.  I'm guessing that as soon as they leave, they look at each other and say, "Can you believe what a shit hole that place is?  Jesus.  Why don't they take care of it?  If we had that, we'd take care of it."  NO YOU WOULD NOT.  Because there is just not enough fucking time in the day or money in the world to get it all done. 

I feel guilty bitching about the things I have.  I do.  But I'm not really bitching about WHAT I have - but more about HOW we treat it, or mistreat it.  We have worked our asses off to get what we have, and I so badly wanted a new house - the kind you just walk in, drop your suitcase at the front door and shout, "I'm HOME!"  but instead I got conned into this fixer upper money pit and it's been an uphill battle against time and money ever since.  We no sooner get one room remodeled and something breaks, or leaks or falls off and we have to go back and do it all over again.  2 steps forward, 10 steps back.  For 5 years it's been like that. 

The other day I found the notebook I kept back when we looked at this house.  It contains the list of everything we were going to do to it and how much it would all cost.  $20,000 and 6 months.  LMFAO.  We're 5 years into it and so much over $20,000 that I no longer have a freakin' clue how much we've put into it.  Then the real estate market crashed and all of a sudden - GUESS WHAT?!!!  It's not worth what we have into it.  For two years we did nothing - NOT one thing to this house - I refused to put a dime into it until we could get the equity built back up or the market turned around.  Finally, I couldn't take it any longer and we decided to just return to our original plans and get back to remodeling because clearly, we are going to be stuck here the rest of our lives.  Might as well enjoy the place if we're here!  And ohhh - how I fucking enjoy it!! 

I love how when we start one project, and put our savings into that, the house dictates instead how to spend the money.  As a result, we are in a constant state of "in process".  The husband is out working on a cabinet for a new oven we purchased 2 years ago.  TWO years it has sat in the garage - waiting for a new home in my kitchen.  He says it will be installed by next week.  I'm placing my money on Labor Day weekend for installation. 

It's okay - I'm used to it.  I just don't deal well with it on some days.  Like today, and also yesterday. 

Graduation - Update

Figured y'all would be itchin' for an update on the graduation party planning, so here it is:

1. Met again at our house - we were actually able to get a picture of the four boys all together, in a single picture and I think all of them are even smiling.
2. Two minutes after the boys were captured on film, two of them split.  These boys aren't close.  It's odd that they're having a joint party.
3. No decision was made on the meat during the meeting. 
4. We will be getting together again in a few weeks to address all the invitations (YAY)
5. We will be making 40 lbs.  Yes 40 lbs of potato salad.
6. Still no decision on how many buns are needed.
7. The moms will shop, together, on a Saturday at Sams.  - I made a note to get hit by a truck the night before so I wouldn't have to go.

So, after the meeting and because I think we should have made a decision on the meat, I sent a follow up email:

Me:  Do you really think we need to have 3-4 different kinds of smoked meat?  Isn't pulled pork just fine?  It's the cheapest and easiest.  Thoughts?

Family #2:  Silence

Family #3:  Let me know

Ex-Wife of Family #3:  Whatever is fine

Family #4 (aka Pain in the ASS):  Can we freeze the meat before hand?

Me:  Dude smoking the meat says that it would be best if we didn't freeze it.  Says it could be pulled up to 7 days prior but he'd rather do it a few days before.

Family #2:  Silence

Family #3:  Let me know

Ex-Wife of Family #3:  Whatever is fine

Pain in the ASS:  Silence

So another week passes and me and Family #3 make the executive decision to order ONLY pork and to up the quantity from 50 lbs finished to 60 lbs.  We also secretly agree to 400 buns.  Family #3 places the order.

Another week passes and I get an email from Pain in the ASS:  What day?  I'm busy on May 1st.

Well let's see, since the party is the 14th and the last email said it would need to be pulled a few days prior....I'm not even responding to her stupid fucking inquiry. 

Oh and also, I found out from Family #3 that his ex-wife is not happy we are ONLY having pulled pork - she really thinks we should have at least one other type of meat.  Ummmm - she said she didn't care?  Well now she does.  So ummmmm, what other kind of meat does she want to do????  - - - HAM. 

HAM?  How the fuck is HAM different than smoked pork?  How is that providing a variety?  Fuck it.  We're having smoked pork and if people don't like it, they can go hungry.

Oh and because I couldn't figure out why in the hell we were making 40 lbs of potato salad, I sent a follow up email:
Me:  We decided to make 40 lbs of potato salad and get 50 lbs of meat.  Was that what you wanted?  The same amount of potato salad as meat?

Family #2:  Silence

Family #3:  Let me know

Ex Wife of Family #3:  I can do whatever

Pain in the ASS:  Fine.  We'll just do 20 lbs. 

Oh - and the Pain in the ASS is getting us EACH a 4' x 4' vinyl banner of our son.  YAY!  I have no clue what I will do with that after this party, maybe hang it in the kitchen?  Or family room?  Maybe our bedroom.....the possibilities are endless!

Who's Got Talent?

Okay, so I did not intentionally set out to bitch about American Idol tonight.  But because it's on, I can't leave it alone.  Who.the.fuck are these people on here this year?  Have they EVER sung a note in their entire life?  Is sung even a word? I don't know anymore.  This show has me so frazzled that I can't even think straight.  I ought to turn it off.  I really should.  It's not worthy of my time.  The *talent* is atrocious this year. 

The judges are currently fawning all over Lee - singing some horrible song, pretending to play a guitar and WHAT.THE.FUCK a Scottish bagpiper shows up in the middle of the routine - huh?  Why?  And why are they telling him he's good.  He's NOT good.  He sucks.  Someone please just tell him the truth.  It's so much easier to remove the bandaid when you just rip it off and get it over with.  Quit stringing this talentless idiot along and give it to him straight.

Who the hell is the Mexican dude?  Andrew or something?  Guitterez, Garcia, something like that.  Looks like Charlie the Tuna and SUCKS.  And Siobhan?  (That's pronounced Chavon for those of you who weren't in the know on that).  WRETCHED.  Everytime that geeky assed girl gets up to sing I want to scratch my eyeballs out and drive an ice pick into my left ear.  I love how she takes off her glasses to sing, but immediately returns them to their spot to talk to the judges.  What the hell is that?  You're not being judged on your nerd factor.  It's like watching some significantly horrible tween movie where the star is some awkward four-eyed goober who tricks everyone into thinking she's a beauty and then at the homecoming assembly, puts her glasses on and they're all like, "OH.MY.GOD!  I had no idea it was Queen Geek!"  Just leave the glasses on - Charlie the Tuna does and he still ekes by every week.

If it weren't for Bowersox, I wouldn't watch the show.  And I typically don't. I typically DVR it and watch ONLY her.  There.  A 2 hour show condensed to 3 minutes.  It fits better in my schedule that way and also my ears do not bleed as much.

And while I'm bitching about reality (?) TV - DWTS comes to mind.  Seriously, Kate Gosselin - WHAT.THE.FUCK is wrong with you?  You dance horribly.  And you act like a damned fool when you realize how awful you are.  It's like you just cannot stand to be bad at something - or wrong - or hated.  I have stood up for you all these years.  I have loved you when everyone else despised you.  I have defended the way you spoke to your worthless, lazy, irresponsible whiney-ass husband when others chastised you.  But PLEASE for the love of God and little Baby Jesus:  TAKE YOUR CAPEZIOS OFF.  You suck.  Oh - and also, you have cankles - wear a long dress to cover them up.  And while you're at it - go back to your reverse mullet - it was so much more befitting of your bitchy personality.  This new barbie doll bullshit you're rockin' isn't doing it for me and I'm finding it increasingly difficult to take your side.

That's it.  Except that for everything is VERY loud tonight - AUNT FLO alert!