Jan 31, 2011

Techie Free and All about Me

I'm baaaaack!

I decided to take a techie break.  You know, lay my phone down and ignore the constant beeping from incoming texts.  Not turn the computer on and check my email.  Forget Facebook.  Thank kind of break.

That shit was hard, dude.  And if you text me over the weekend and I haven't returned your text, please don't wait for it.  I deleted them so I can start over today.  I guess you're not stuck on the side of the road or out of toilet paper because if it were that kind of emergency then you would have PICKED UP THE PHONE AND CALLED ME!!!

Yes, I do have a problem.  I'm addicted to technology.  Bad.  I would seriously rather text you to tell you something than actually dial your number and talk to you.  So, I decided enough was enough and I put my phone in a drawer and left the home computer off for the entire weekend. 

OK.  I'm lying.  I couldn't make it the whole weekend.  You know why?  I'll tell you:  I ate every piece of bread in the entire house.  Instead of playing on the computer I read.  TWO BOOKS!  When all the bread was gone out of the house I had to have something to occupy my stomach while reading so I made MORE BREAD!  Seriously, it might have been healthier if I'd have just returned all of your texts and played Scarab Solitaire on Facebook all weekend long!

I was taking a break from my 2nd book because I had to take a dump go to the bathroom.  I usually bring my book along to drop the kids off at the pool, but I dropped it in my rush to get to the toilet in time.  The most recent Food Network magazine was sitting on the back of the toilet and I grabbed it and started reading.

Really quick, my husband thinks it's so ridiculous that I actually have time to read an article or seven while "filing paperwork in the office".  He thinks I should just be able to get in there and get it done quick.  He says that if I have to sit there that long, then *it* wasn't ready to unload.  I have news for him.  My bowels must be a lot longer than his because this chick needs at least 30 minutes!  It only takes him 2 at the most.

Anyway, making a donation to the super "bowl" I found a recipe for Parker House Rolls and *had* to make them right away. Here's a picture of my rolls that are now demolished:

In my defense I halved the recipe and there were 3 other bread lovers in my house this weekend, so they shared in the demolition of the yummiest rolls.  If you want to make this buttery goodness then you can just go here to find Alex Guarnaschelli's Parker House Rolls recipe for Food Network Magazine.

I have to say that I'm very glad to back in your lives, writing, texting and following along with your life by stalking your Facebook pages.  Don't think I don't do it either.  Here's what I have for you today as if the above weren't enough.  A little interview of me, by me!

1. If you could give the world one piece of advice, what would it be? It depends on the topic, I mean shit how could I just start giving the entire world advice?  On what subject would you like my advice?  Sorry interviewer, you'll have to be more specific.  Life in general?  Do not stare. It's rude.  I do it all the time and get the finger. Then I get pissed because of someones audacity to actually flip me off just because I'm nosey.

2. If you could have a room full of any one thing, what would it be? I think it would be damn cool if I could have a room full of......hell, I can't think of anything because you are making me narrow it down to ONE thing.  I'm too indecisive to tell you just one thing.  Of course Chocolate but I love bread too.  I used to say that if I were stranded on a deserted island the one thing I could totally live on was bread.  So bread it is.  Make my room full of carbs (my spell check wanted me to put CRABS there).  A couch made from bread - how totally cool would that be?  Just lay on the couch watching TV and gnaw on the arm of the couch, ha! So, it looks like Chocolate Covered Bread is what I would want.  YUM!

3. What do you value most in other people? Seriously, it helps if you're going to be honest.  I cannot stand when people lie.  And if your honesty hurts my feelings, so be it.  I will like you and talk about you much, much less if you are honest with me.  Because really, I'm still gonna talk about your ass.  Just a lot less, if you stay honest with me.

4. If you could only see black and white except for one color, what color would you choose to see? That's a stupid question. But, Hot pink.  Hot pink is the other color I would like to be able to see.  Because really?  Why would God make us if we couldn't see His beautiful colors?

5. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? Nothing.  I'm perfect.  Really, I am.  Except for my ass.  It's pretty much a donkey butt.  Oh, and hands.  I have man hands and they don't go with my body.  Then, there's this issue with my boobs.  You might think they are substantial when you look at me but that's only because I wear a padded bra filled with extra balloon pads.  I honestly have NO boobs.  They too, do not belong on my body.  If my boobs were proportioned with my back side then I'd at least be wearing a D cup.  But other than that......I'm good.

6. If you could choose one of your personality traits to pass on to your children, what would it be? My humor.  Because I'm funny right?  RIGHT?  I often use my humor to even cheer myself up and to hide my true feelings.  But really, if I can walk into a room and smile and say something totally off the wall and make just *one* person laugh, then I've done my job.  But, for realz though, my son is going to be a stand up comedian....you watch.

7. What would you attempt if you knew you could not fail?  If I absolutely knew that without a doubt that I would not fail I would read a script for a comedy show and become famous!

8. Would you rather teach a young child to read or have to learn again for yourself? Are you FKM?????  Have you ever listened to a 4 year old try to read?  Dude, I'd much rather learn to read again from someone who can teach me than have to teach a young child to read myself.  I've tried that and can't do it. I've found myself getting frustrated and throw the book while telling that young child that technology is growing at a rapid pace so, hang tight and before you know it, you won't ever have to even know how to read!

9. What is the best advice you've ever given and received? About 3 seconds ago, I told someone to smile while they talk on the phone so it gives the impression that whatever the person on the other end is saying, it's really not bothering you.  As long as you let someone see or even hear tension in your voice they are dominating the conversation.  Sort of like, "don't let 'em see you sweat".  Another one I like to share is when someone complains "that's not fair", I always come back with "The only thing that is *FAIR* in life comes to town once a year and it's usually around my birthday".

10. How would you like to die? My entire family and all of my friends know that I am convinced that I'm going to die in a horrible car accident only after I have been cut out of my vehicle with the jaws of life and the paramedics have to find a cooler big enough to pack my leg in so they can attempt to reattach it at the hospital.  They reattach it while I'm on life support but since I have a DNR they are trying to keep me hanging on until my family can say goodbye, but I never make it.  However, I would *like* to die in my sleep after a long night of hot passionate sex with hubby while he fed me chocolate covered bread. 

Jan 25, 2011

Like Father Like Son

I consider myself Trendy. I don't have ALL of the latest styles but I try to keep up with the ever changing fashion industry.

Today I wore a very cute "shirt dress". When I walked out of my closet Hubs looked at me and said "you're wearing that?"

He got my evil eye and I said nothing but continued to the mirror to finish my hair.

Here's the thing. I got a *big* ol' booty. You know that song by Trace Adkins, Honky Tonk Badonk-a-donk? That's pretty much how you could describe my backside.

Now, there ain't NOOO way I could walk out of my house lookin' just like I did when I walked out of my closet. So, when Hubs asked me what he did, I had to make him think that, yes I was wearing exactly what he saw me in. Thank goodness he left before I did. He did not see me when I left. I talked to him several times during the day today. He didn't mention my choice for today's attire.
When I left work this afternoon, I called Hubs and to my surprise, he was already home! He met me at the door and I could totally see in his eyes that he was so relieved that I added a pair of dark denim jeans and boots to my stylish shirt dress.

I went straight to the bedroom/bathroom/closet as usual and hollered to him that I needed to go meet a friend to drop off some stuff to her.  I slipped off my jeans and put a different pair of boots on.  You know, the ones that went past my knee and had a higher heel?

Hubs was at the sink and my youngest son had his ear buds in listening to loud music.  I non gracefully breezed by the kitchen with just my shirt dress and boots on, headed to the garage door and said: "I'll be back in a minute"

My husband was speechless and in a matter of milliseconds my son jumped down from the bar stool and with a look of pure PANIC washed over his face said:


Jan 24, 2011

He's so Funny and I love him!

He is my biggest supporter.

He's serious:
Not a day goes by that he regrets.  Life is important to him.

He's dedicated:
When she had a heart attack he promised to take care of her and he has never stopped.  He changed his eating habits and added fitness into his daily routine.  He still walks in the park even if it's raining.

He's smart:
When he decided on his career path, he went to the Dean of a School of Law and asked for permission to take the entrance exam *without* having gone through the entire 4 years of college that was needed prior to being accepted to Law School.  The Dean granted permission.  He took the exam. He passed.  He finished Law School with honors.

He's witty:
He reads every.single.day.  It is this that makes me think he is so clever in perception of all things.  This makes him expressionable.

He's clever:
You cannot get anything past him.  He has very sharp intelligence. You may have read about my my 7th grade adventure, and if so you know that he conspired with the local DA to put me on fake probation until I was 18.  Only then did he tell me that I was never actually on probation.  I would say that's mighty clever.

He's admirable:
Because of they way he carries himself, lives his life and shows regard for others, I often regard him with wonder.

He's honorable:
He has never lied to me or anyone that I know. He's just simply a good dude. 

But damn it, He's HILARIOUS!
24 years ago he used my grandmothers lip liner to paint chicken pox all over his face, neck and arms to avert the attention away from his future daughter-in-law who had actual chicken pox on her wedding day.

There's a song that makes me think of him every time I hear it.  Not because I've ever hurt him.  I mean, I may have in the past, unintentionally given him an enormous amount of anxiety, anger, mistrust (only to gain it back), heartburn and fear.  But, I don't think I have ever hurt him or given him a broken heart.

If you go over the words written by the songwriter you might interpret that this person is running away but doesn't want you to worry.  They might have had a hectic life and are finally willing to forgo the bad things they've done.  I don't know.  If you watch the video, it is that of a jewelry heist and makes no sense to me.

Song: You can read it or skip it.
I'm not a perfect person, There's many things I wish I didn't do.  But I continue learning, I never meant to do those things to you. And so I have to say before I go, that I just want you to know.  I've found a reason for me.  To change who I used to be. A reason to start over new, and the reason is you. I'm sorry that I hurt you, it's something I must live with every day. And all the pain I put you through, I wish that I could take it all away. and be the one who catches all your tears, that's why I need you to hear: I've found a reason for me, to change who I used to be. A reason to start over new, and the reason is you.

I think you all know that I really *love* music.  All of it.  I love to listen to it.  Dance to it.  And I love to SING it!

He loves music too.  And, this is why he's funny.

He sings all the time and has a great voice.  Every single morning when he wakes up he sings.  Every. Morning.  It is a song he makes up about being so glad that God woke him up.  In the song, he talks about her and how much he loves her.  Every day though, the song is different because it includes what he plans to have for breakfast and his plans for the day.  Some of the words are even made up.

So every time I hear the song above, which by the way is called "The Reason" I think of him. And, because of his witty, clever, funny sense of humor I think he may have even named the band!

They are Hoobastank, and my dad would love to walk around his house singing a song with the word hoobastank included in the lyrics!

It's not R rated

I usually *never* feel this way. 


I was feeling particularly happy to be sitting next to Hubs.  I mean, really I don't even like to be in the same room with him let alone, less than 3 feet away from him.

We had been surfing the web together looking up different things here and there. Checking out shore excursions for our upcoming cruise, looking at pictures from our last cruise, etc.  We were just laughing and sharing memories back and forth. 

Then I started to feel frisky!
The boys were busy building forts and Lego....stuff.  We hadn't seen them in at least an hour.  Surprisingly, they weren't fighting.  It was the lazy Saturday that I had hoped for.   Lots of Laughter and a little bit of house work.

Where was this *mood* I was in, coming from? 

It was broad daylight.  I stood up from the computer chair and stretched.  You know how sometimes when you get a really good stretch in, your entire body tingles?  It was a great stretch.  And now on top of the warm fuzzy feeling I had all over my body (and I mean all over), I had goose bumps.  Do you know what happens to women when they get goose bumps from a warm fuzzy feeling or even a nice cold draft?


Out of the corner of my eye I saw Hubs watching me.  There's something about headlights that gets men excited? Usually, it ticks me off and I end up slapping his hand away.  But this time I didn't. Shall I remind you that I was feeling "in the mood"? 

In less than 5 seconds his clothes were off as well as mine, and piled on the floor in front of our bed.  I snuck to our door and closed it as quietly as possible and locked it.

I walked over to the bed and crawled under the covers with my husband.  It was heating up quickly.  There was a lot of naughty talking going on between us and I know my husband was thrilled because it had been a *long* time since we did this unscheduled.  Doesn't that always make it better?

Suddenly, there was a pounding on the door!

Mommy!  Mommy!  What are you doing in there?

Son, I'm getting undressed to get in the bathtub!  Is this an emergency?

No, I'm not bleeding or anything.  Where is daddy and why is the door locked?

Daddy is in the shower and the door is locked because I'm naked!

So! I've seen your tattoos before, what's the big deal?

Go away!  Go back to playing with your brother and your daddy will be out in a second.

That's why I'm at your door, I was looking for my brother and he was here at the door!  I came to see what he was doing!

I got up out of the bed, put my clothes back on.  The minute I walked out of my bedroom and to the kitchen, the boys went right back to what they were doing, IN THEIR OWN ROOMS! They didn't really want anything at all.  They heard the door close and had to investigate.

I wish I had the hearing of an 11 year old!

We hadn't heard them, and they didn't bother us for an hour.  Until I shut the door!

Jan 19, 2011

I think I'm a Geezer

I have not been right today.  I have had way too many "senior" moments than should be allowed in one day.  Thing is, I don't even think I'm close to being eligible for AARP Senior discounts.

I woke up about 30 minutes late because my alarm didn't go off.  Only, the alarm on my husbands side of the bed did when it was time for *him* to get in the shower. 

SHIT.  I hate running late.  But today I had a hair appointment and decided that I'd just go ahead and skip the 45 minutes of work I was going to try to get in before the appointment.

So, I got ready and went to my 9:00 appointment. 

Dude, the lights were off in the Salon and there were NO cars in the parking lot.  I pulled up next to the building and read the hours on the door.  Monday - Saturday 10 am - 9 pm.

WTF?  How do I have a 9 am appointment and the damn shop doesn't open until 10?  I called hubs and told him.  He laughed at me because I cannot hear.  He said the girl probably said *ONE* not *NINE*.  As if her southern accent had that much of a drawl in it.  Whatever.

I drive around the back to see if my stylists car was there and it wasn't. 

I called her cell phone. No answer.

Crap!  I'm not going to work just to drive back here 30 minutes later.  And if my appointment really is at 1:00 pm I'm taking the whole day off.

I get back to the front of the salon and here she is pulling up.  Thank god!

Just a few minutes late, but I'm glad it wasn't my senile mind or my elderly hearing messing with me.

After I got my hair done I headed straight to work.  I kind of day dream when I drive and it's not the best idea but sorry, it happens.  Sometimes I don't even remember driving home until I get there and think Damn, I don't even know how I got here... But today, it scared the shit out of me.  I made the 2nd to last turn before my office building and suddenly, I didn't recognize a thing around me.  There was an SUV in front of me and, weird...I don't remember the fire station being on the right side of the road, I always thought it was on the left side.  Another car turned out in front of the SUV and I started freaking out.  I didn't even know there was a street there.  My head started pounding and I could feel my heart racing and my throat closing up.  My vision was going into a tunnel as my peripheral view was being clouded. 


I closed my eyes and blinked them a few times, took a deep breath and finally realized that I was going TO WORK, not driving home FROM WORK and the fire station is ALWAYS on the right hand side of the road when I'm driving *to* work.  As is the side street....it's been there for years I am sure.  Thank you baby Jesus, I'm still sane.

Finally at work, I get out of my car, gather my things and head to the elevator.  Mind you it's 12 Noon and people may be leaving for lunch or returning right about now.  I get to the elevator door and the thing wont open.  I'm standing there pressing the button and it's not even moving!  I do NOT want to take the stairs at all and I'm about to cry when I realize the button that I'm feverishly pressing is that of my key FOB.  To my car. 

To my knowledge they do not make remote control elevator door openers.

Jan 18, 2011

Brown Cow

I had the great misfortune of going to the dentist today.  Blah!

I have terrible teeth.  Always have. 

I wouldn't say I'm afraid of the dentist, but I just never have had a great experience going to the dentist. 

Until now.  I have finally found someone who doesn't hurt me.  At all.  And, I love her!

My dentist is the bomb.com/yourmom.  She's hilarious and all of her hygenists and assistants are equally funny.  One of my co-workers sent me to her and let me quote him as for his reasons for faking a tooth-ache:

Genny, you gotta see her - she gives you nitrus oxide and forgets about you for about thirty minutes so then you don't give a shit how big the needle is she's sticking you with! 

So, I started seeing the great doctor and today, I had the mother lode of procedures done.  I told you the tooth fairy wasn't good to me, didn't I?  I mean, I must have been last in line when they were handing out nice, healthy teeth.  Seriously.  Anyway, let's just put it this way.  Today I paid everyone's salary in the dentist office with all of the work I had done.  TIMES TWO!!!
Back to today's appointment. I've already had the numbing gel and three injections into my gums and jaw and the assistant comes over with this runny pink goup and says it's time for an impression.  I gave her the only impression I knew how to do.  I said:  Oh.....my.....Gawd..Chandler Bing!  In my best Janice voice.  She only stared at me (either she's too young and never watched Friends or the anesthesia really made my "impression" sound bad) and then she shoved this in my mouth:

I look stoned in this picture, no?  I felt pretty good that's for damn sure!  I now see that she spilled a little down my chin.  I was wondering what she was picking at on my chin.  I thought she suddenly felt as though we were close enough for her to start picking a zit on my chin.  She did afterall, have both hands in my mouth!

The doc came back over and started drilling more in my mouth.  I really do love my dentist.  She is sweet and talks to you about anything you want to nod your head at.  And belly laugh.  Because I don't know how you laugh with a giant spacer in your jaw, three hands and a drill in your mouth, laying practically upside down.  You can't nod your head or wave your arms because then she'll think something is wrong and stop drilling.  Which is exactly what I needed her to do.  Not only did I feel the drill but suddenly, I needed to sneeze so I waved my arms and faked a sneeze.  They started cracking up at me but kept drilling and I was all....

ooooo, i weeeeelllly leed ha heeze.....i heeel iiii coooneeee ohh. 

If you don't understand that please humor me.  Open your mouth as wide as you can and then even wider and say "No, I really need to sneeze, I feel it coming on"  And tell me that's not how you would spell that!

Anyway, they stopped drilling, removed all three hands and the jaw-holder-openy-thingy from the left side of my mouth and.....I didn't sneeze.  My nose was on fire and that sneeze was right there.  The doc said it must be the anesthesia wearing off so she did this:

I don't know about you but that needle looks HUGE!  I mean, when it's right next to your face and you are trying too look at it out of the corner of your eye it looks *ginormous*! 

I made the the assistant take this picture so I could text it to my husband.  I wanted him to feel sorry for me and quit being pissed off that I was paying so much to have my teeth fixed.  And, it *totally* worked!!!!  He hates needles and nearly passed out at work.  Ha!

Before the doctor put the big ol' "keeps your mouth open and stretches it wide enough for you to suck on a soda can" device in my mouth she asked me if I needed to sneeze still.  When I told her I felt like the tingling was still there she said:

I always say "Brown Cow" when I have to sneeze.  It works every time.  Try it.

With my eyes closed and head back on the comfortable chair I said:

Brown Cow....Brown Cow....Brown Cow. 


I opened my right eye to see those silly girls buckled over in laughter. 

They tricked me. 

Apparently, they have an early morning office meeting to decide on the color of the day.  Today it was brown and they tell *all* the patients to say BROWN COW!

Jan 15, 2011


I don't think I did anything wrong.

Hubby says I probably said something to piss her off.

I haven't talked to her enough in the last nine months to even recall what I might have said.

I'm a great friend.

I can be difficult, but for the most part I'm very passive.

I will give you my last $10 and go without. 

I will drive you anywhere you need to go. Even if it takes all night to get there.

She's never asked me to drive anywhere for her.

She's never asked me for my last $10

I can keep your most important secret.

I have kept hers.**

I think friends should be in the top five on your top five list.

After my family, she is the first friend I pray for.

I've left messages.

I miss her.

I don't know, if I did anything wrong.

If she'll just tell me what I did or what she needs, I will feel so much better about the distance that has been put between us. 

I promise, I will understand.

I just need to know.

**As of today, it not longer remains a secret.  Thank God.

Jan 14, 2011


As you may or may not know, BUNCO is for Ladies only.  Well, until Christmas time when a few groups that I have been involved with invite our husbands for what is known as "Couples BUNCO". 

There is a reason why 11 months out of the year we play BUNCO with just women because there are certain things you only discuss with your lady friends.  It's also a really good time to dish about your husband or gush about the overly hot guy at the gym that you just so happen to keep running into. At the same time. Every single day. 

I have a great time at BUNCO each month and something funny happens just about every time.

Last night was particularly funny when one of the ladies needed to call her husband to remind him of a certain task she needed him to complete.  Curiosity peaked my interest, (also because I'm really nosey) when she said: "just put it in a brown paper bag and give it to him".  At first I thought she was smuggling dope or a large sum of cash.  Nah, she's too sweet and innocent to do that.  Plus, there were words like refrigerator and I decided not to use it and really, who keeps pot or cash in the refrigerator? And if it really was something fun like drugs or money who just "decides not to use it"?  Then she said to her husband rather matter-of-factly and, with a hint of disgust and shock "Of Course NOT!!"

I would be lying if I told y'all that I didn't quite demand to hear what the hell that *secret* conversation was about.  But seriously, I think a little bit of me has rubbed off on my friends...especially the part of me that can't really keep "personal" secrets.  Mostly, the totally stupid personal secrets that I find hilarious are the ones I share.  So almost immediately, she had that "throw up of the mouth" syndrome and recounted the conversation that went something like this:

Wife: (calling her husband) Hey, is **** still there?

Husband: blah blah blah blah blah blah blah 

Wife:  OMG no BUNCO is not over, that would be like, the shortest BUNCO night in the history of short BUNCO nights!  Anyway, get that thing I was telling you about out of the refrigerator and give it to ****.

Husband:  Blah blah blah, waa waa waa, blah blah?

Wife: No, just put it in a brown paper sack and fold it up and give it to him. ***** (his wife) uses it and I decided not to try it.

Husband: Blah Blah Blah!!!!!

Wife:  OF COURSE NOT!!!!!


Phone call over. 

I'm staring at her like *what the hell was that all about and tell me now because I need to know or I might die trying to figure out what you've decided not to try*

She looks at me and says:  NUVA RING!!!!

In shock I said "You're kidding me?? And your husband asked you if you used the one you were giving to your friend because you decided not to try it after all, didn't he?

She confirmed my fear with a very deliberate head nod and laugh and, then I fell to the floor, literally, in hysterics! 

What woman do you know, in their right mind, would insert a Nuva Ring and then decide that she wasn't going to use it but put it in the refrigerator and save it for her friend that she knows uses them? 

Every time I think about it I die laughing because I wonder how mortified her husband was that he had to actually open the refrigerator and fish out a rubber device his wife had thought about inserting in her va-jay-jay, only to give it to his buddy, so HIS wife could use it!

BUNCO Part One

I'm whipped today.  Just plum tired and I don't want to do anything but start my YouTube Friday way too early and sit on my heating pad.  My Friday nights are sometimes spent sitting around the computer with my boys while I YouTube songs from my past.  Grade school all the way through college.  It gets really funny (and sometimes boring) when we go as far back as my husbands high school years!

Anyway, I played BUNCO last night and as usual came home with a headache from laughing for almost 3 hours straight.  The group of girls that I play with are all wonderful and so funny, and that is why I feel so tired and lazy today. 

Thank you to Connie, who is so sweet and amazing to invite us over to her house to laugh and play BUNCO!  But I have something quite alarming to tell y'all!  Connie is in serious denial!  She remains ashamed of who she is and to this very day continues to try and persuade her family and friends into believing that she is a fan of the Dallas Cowgirls Cowboys.  She has even gone as far as taunting me on my Facebook page. You know, pretending that she was so glad the Saints went one and done in the Playoffs this year.  You might have even read about the bantering back and forth between she and her good friend "Steve".  Even "Steve's" wife has been thrown into the heartbreaking "he said she said" colloquy, causing some very hard feelings after it has all been said and done. If you haven't heard all about it, you can read about it here.  Let me just tell you, if she's not a WHO DAT in the closet, bears don't shit in the woods! When you walk into her beautiful home here is what you see:

And all over the house you can find stuff like this:

And this:

That's not all - the color scheme in her kitchen in undeniably BLACK & GOLD.  Who paints their kitchen Gold and uses window treatments of black silk organza with Fleur de Lis embellishments throughout and ISN'T a New Orleans Saints Fan?  Even the giant window in her great room is draped with fabric in which there are hundreds, if not thousands of Fleur de Lis designs throughout.  As I wandered through her home in awe of her fondness for the New Orleans Saints I couldn't help but count each Fleur de Lis as I passed by it fighting the urge to slip just one or two items in my purse.  In plain view and without a lot of digging or looking behind around and under too many things I counted 75 of them.



If you know of a helpline or support group I can get my friend into, I would appreciate any help I can get.  This girl can't get the brown paper bag off of her head and is in complete denial that she is a Saints fan through and through.  I bet if I cut her open she would bleed black and gold.  Her phone was on silent all night but I guarantee she has "when the Saints go Marching in" set as her ring tone on her phone!

I didn't find one Star in her house.  Nothing was painted Blue and Silver.  There were no boots or straw hats displayed with love.  No shadow box filled with memorabilia to recall that long awaited Super Bowl win.  No sweat drenched wrist bands or ball gloves.  No signed tennis shoes or laminated Stadium tickets.

I did see some dirty old blue and white football that someone had scribbled on.  Funny, she had it in a Plexiglas case as if it were worth something.  So, there's no way she's a Dallas Cowboy fan.  What Cowboy fan has a home that looks as though it threw up  Fleur de Lis chotskies all over the place?

I think I need to call Jerry Jones on her!

Jan 13, 2011

I can never win!

I'm hurting today.


I bent over this morning to pull my socks up and that's when it happened.  My back just decided it was going on hiatus.  Sometimes if I sit just right, I can't breathe.  That can't be good.  This time, it's in the very middle of my back and I know exactly why it happened.

I finally got my husband to join me at the gym.  It's been pretty fun actually.  Monday, I was all nervous becuase I thought he was going to pass out or even worse have a stroke.  I was on the elliptical machine and he was on a treadmill two rows in front of me.  I think I cranked my neck to look at him every thirty seconds.  I was so worried about him because he hadn't eaten before we left for the gym.  If you know anything about him at all you know the man eats like every 2 hours.  He has some sort of sugar problem (I think it's all in his head but sometimes he does get all white and sweaty).  So, he has to eat snacks all the time.  Except Monday he didn't.  I asked him as we were pulling into the parking lot at the gym if he ate something and I probably shouldn't have brought it up because then he started to worry about it too.

Anyway, he made it through the 25 minutes on the treadmill and then I took him over to the weight machines and we started working on our arms.  I tried to tell him that he didn't need to put the pin that high up on the weight but he didn't listen.  I told him that he might want to make it a little easier on himself this first time so he can get used to it but he was being macho.  I reminded him that we have three sets of each workout to do but he blew me off.  I thought to myself how funny it was going to be in the morning when he woke up and couldn't shave his face because his arms were going to be soooooo sore.  But, he didn't listen to me.  I don't want to have to say "I told you so."

So yesterday we get up and he's all;

I told you I wasn't going to be sore.  You think I'm a wimp don't you?  Just because I haven't worked out in two years.  Ha!  I'll show  you!

Y'all, I was pissed.  I have been to the gym since the week before Christmas and my ass gets sore every.single.day!  Every Tuesday, I suffer through blow drying my hair.  Every Thursday I can't sit on the toilet.  Hell, right now my wrists are hurting just to type! This is not even funny.  It's like 4 years ago when we decided we were going to stop drinking soft drinks.  My husband doesn't drink caffiene at all but he could tear up some Sprite.  Not diet either because he says it has an after taste.  Anyway, we stopped drinking soft drinks and that assface lost 21 lbs in two weeks.  WTF?  Just because he stopped putting all that sugar in him he loses 21 lbs?  Just for that I started drinking back drinking Sprites right in front of him.

So, yesterday we go to the gym and I'm pissed becuase he's not sore.  Yesterday was legs day.  We both had a killer cardio workout and then I was going to tear him up on our legs.  We did the whole routine and then I saw this guy shredding out some crunches on a new machine.  I decided we'd try that.  While hubs was shredding his crunches on that ab machine I decided I was getting on the CORE STRENGTH TRAINER.  That's right....I'm gonna strengthen my core!  I get my fat but up there and start twisting away.  No problem.  Left side, then right side.  I can already feel my core strengthening!  Hubby passed on that machine.  Said he didn't need it. 

Yep.  My core is so strong today that I can't even bend over to pull my socks up! 

I can't laugh.

No coughing coming from me. 

When I sneeze I scream.

Wipe my ass?  Forget it.

DH just left me a voice message that said: "I told you so".


Jan 12, 2011

Neighbor Profiling

Is there a Home Owners Association Screening Program?

You know, like before we let someone move in the hood, can we screen them?  Check out their background.  See how they dress, what kind of car they drive and how many pets they house? 

It would have been greatly appreciated if that were the case last summer when the sweet neighbors on the left (if you're in my house and looking out the front door) of us moved out.  They were an elderly gentleman and his wife who really minded their business and kept things looking fabulous in their yard as well as mine.  It was not uncommon for me to come home from work in the afternoon to find my next door neighbor in my back yard picking green plums for his wife who was craving them because she had an iron deficiency.  Occasionally, he would leave us some tomatoes in a brown paper sack.  We traded our fruit.  It was nice.  Some weekends my husband would go outside to cut the grass and it would be literally HOURS before I heard the lawn mower actually start.  The neighbor was bending his ear.  A LOT.  As the years went by the neighbors on the left were getting older and less capable of keeping such a big house that was for just the two of them.  Times started to get difficult financially and they moved into a small apartment just a few miles down the road.  We were sad to see them go, but completely understood.  Their health was deteriorating and it had become difficult to keep up with the yard and cleaning the house at their age.

I really miss them. 

I miss them because what moved into the house on our left, (if you're looking out my front door) is the complete *opposite* of what used to be there. 

One sunny afternoon my husband and I were in our backyard playing catch with the boys.  I know it sounds like such parody but it's really true this time and I'm not trying to paint a beautiful picture.  Because really, this gets ugly.  There was some commotion on the other side of the fence and I'm a nosy person so I stepped up on a bench and noticed that we had some new neighbors moving in.  Yay!  My husband steps up on the bench with me and introduces himself to the....young old aging lady who is trying to keep her two black labs in the backyard.  I notice she's wearing a spaghetti strap Harley Davidson tank and some jeans that look as though she had to jump from the roof right into them.  And, no bra.  Oh, this is not going well for me.  After our introduction she says:

This sure is a quiet neighborhood, y'all don't mind a party every now and again that can get kind of loud do you?  This here neighborhood doesn't know what they're in for because we like to get LOUD.

I lowered myself off of the bench and went directly into the house.  My husband kind of giggled and said it was nice to meet her and told her to have a good day.

It really hasn't been the same since the day the rednecks new neighbors moved in.  For one, they have 3 dogs and 4 cats INSIDE the house.  That's not the real issue.  There are also two very large Black Labs outside that bark. Loud.  Non-Stop.  All day.  All night.  They bark because they are tied to the column on the back porch with a small leash no longer than 2 feet long.  Their food and water bowls are 2 and a 1/2 feet from them, so they bark.  The dogs are tied to the column because the fence is broken.  Their fence is broken because the dogs tried to escape the back yard and the literally tore it down. There is a trailer propped up where the gate used to be to try and keep the dogs inside the yard.  Ya, that doesn't work.  The dogs sometimes come over to my house and rest their ferocious bodies on my front porch and wait for me to get home so they can terrorize me.

As of today there is only one dog in the back yard.  I swear on my great grandmothers grave that I do not know what happened to the other one. 

The police have been called to our neighbors house (on the left) a total of 67 times. 

I have not called the police 67 times.  Forty seven maybe.  But, not 67.

The neighbor directly behind my fence as well as the neighbor to the left of the rednecks all-night party people called me on three way calling before to complain about the dog barking. 

I've even called a towing company to come tow their 5 cars they used to park all along the street and in front of my house.  There's a law in the city that I live in, which says they can't park on the street. 

They don't park on the street anymore.  THEY PARK IN THEIR YARD!!!!!!!!

During the month of November I didn't have to call the police at all.  Not even one time.  There were no cars parked in the yard.  There were no towers of beer cans being knocked over by tennis balls that were purposely thrown at the beer can tower in an attempt to see just how many of those beer cans could be knocked over.  My children didn't come wake me in the night to tell me they couldn't sleep because the neighbors were keeping them awake with their loud music and foul mouths.  It was pure bliss.  I even thought there were new neighbors because for the first time EVER, the yard was mowed and shrubs were trimmed.  There were no cars parked on the front lawn. 

Last night, over the sound of mine and my husbands sound machines AND my wonderful breathing apparatus I heard the faint sound of a dog barking.  That familiar sound grated on my nerves horribly and I thought I was having a nightmare.  I got out of bed and went to the backyard.  Sure enough Black Lab is back and barking. 

Hubby called the Law.  My blood was boiling.  I was so confused and curious.  Was the last month or two just a figment of my imagination?  Had I just slept through the barking?  We stood on the front porch for what seemed like 30 minutes waiting for an officer to show up.  (Oh yeah, it was thirty minutes - stupid cops!).  When the officer arrived, he knocked several times the next door neighbors door.  There was no answer but there was one car in the driveway.  The officer confirmed that he indeed heard the dog barking and then came over to our house to talk to us. 

GUESS WHAT Y'ALL??  Our *stupid* neighbors have been in jail for the last 30 days because they refuse to pay a fine they received from the City of ****ood for being a nuisance and disturbing the peace!  How lame is that?  They would rather be in jail than pay a fine???  Now, that officer maybe wasn't supposed to tell us that so y'all don't tell anyone OK?  Especially don't put it on the Internet because you know how that shit gets around!

Don't you agree that we should have some kind of HOA Screening Program?  It would have been nice to know that the woman who wanted to buy the house next door didn't have a job and was living off of insurance money from her dead husband and that her grown children of 19, 22 and 26 are also living at home along with their boyfriends/girlfriends and they don't have jobs either, other than the occasional night of bar tending for a friend of a friend of a friend! 

P.S. I found out that they have a scanner so they know that the cops are coming before they actually get there, that's why they don't answer the door for the officers. Meh!

Jan 11, 2011

It's Always full of Crap

I don't really watch the news.  I mean, my husband reads the paper from front to back and every once in a while I catch the local news.  Actually, I take that back.  Every morning I see the local news because that is what I turn on when I'm getting ready for work.  I love to *watch* the weather but I only half way listen to every thing else.  I don't pay too much attention to it because it's always about someone killing someone else and who's mad at who and I'm just over it.  I used to get so worked up about all the stupidity and crime and wrong doing in our world.  I'm not interested in politics so I wouldn't even know where to start if I were to become interested in fixing the world.

The ONE thing I know, is that GOD is my Savior and with Him I can get through anything.  You might think I'm really stupid for saying this but seriously, I count on Him for a lot of things.  Plus, I really don't care what you think.  If I die tomorrow it will not matter because that is how my life was planned by Him.  I cannot change that. 

I found that the more I watched the news and got worked up over it, the more I was trying to figure out how to change it.  My poor mother still gets so worked up over things that we just have no control over other than our right to vote and our prayers that we actually make the right choices. Sometimes when I call her during the day she sounds so sad, or is overly pissed off about the things she cannot change.  I worry she will give herself a heart attack one day worrying about things she can't control!

But, because I don't live in a hole and am very aware of my surroundings and the things that go on in the world (HELLO - I'M ADDICTED TO FACEBOOK and you can learn A LOT on facebook), I am aware of the headlines.  Most recently the very horrible tragedy that happened in Tuscon, AZ.  A lot of the world and news media is caught up with the suspect in the killings.  How strange he is.  Why didn't anyone notice that something was bothering him. The whys and hows and what exactly was wrong with the gentleman that opened fire.  It's their job and they report the news and what catches the readers attention.  Then there is the other story of the nine year old girl who lost her life that day.  She was born on 9/11/2001.  The same day of another very tragic day in history.  She was smart, athletic, caring and jovial.  She was interested in politics.  At nine years old.  Nine.  When I was nine years old I didn't even know who the President of the United States was!  This bright young lady was on her way to *being* the President of the United States.

Doesn't it make you sit back and think that God really knows what he's doing?  This little girl was born on a tragic day and left our world on a tragic day.  Things like that don't just *happen*, they are planned.

Have you been watching her parents?  One of my co-workers said today that they have given countless interviews without shedding a tear.  But, I'm certain they cry themselves to sleep each night.  As a parent myself, I know they hurt tremendously inside and may never be the same.  On the outside they are courageous and proud of their young daughter who left this world knowing much, much more than the average American.  On the inside they are torn apart, to never, ever be whole again. Christina was fearless the day she died.  She went to meet Rep. Gabrielle Giffords with a neighbor.  Her parents let her go.  How could they possibly know that something so unthinkable would happen?  They couldn't.  And neither could the neighbor who will now live with so much unnecessary guilt about being the last one holding little Christina's hand.

Tonight when I was at the gym I watched the news.  I watched as the husband of the lady who took Christina to the event told of how his wife screams out in the night, "Christina, let's run, hold hands".  It's stories like this that make me want to be bigger than God, fly to Arizona and knock the crap out of that damn idiot who killed 6 innocent people because he didn't like the answer Rep. Giffords gave him TWO YEARS AGO! 

But, I'm not bigger than God.  I never will be.  I want to always trust Him and have a sense of security that only He can give me daily. And so, I will not watch the news.  It's always full of crap.

Jan 10, 2011

Thank You for Reading

Happy Monday!

Kind of.  I mean, I drew the short straw this morning when my husband and I were arguing over who would get to stay home with the boys today since pretty much all of Mississippi shut down. 

It's ICE PEOPLE!!!  Just drive slow!

Anywhoo, I had to come to work today and it's really no big deal.  Actually, I'm sort of glad I did lose the 8 games of Rock, Paper, Scissors that I insisted hubs play with me.  I was so stir crazy yesterday and because I couldn't go anywhere due to the "STORM" I think I ate entirely too much!  I would eat something, then exercise.  Then I'd eat again, and exercise again.  It was a vicious cycle.  Now, my legs are sore from the step ups I did and I have diarrhea...stupid junk food!

Since there isn't a full staff today, I've just been catching up with little things from the holidays.  I have a lot of classes to schedule and I really need to clean up our SharePoint but it's boring work and I don't feel like doing that today.  So, instead I've been making neat piles on my desk of stuff to do.  I'm a pretty organized person.  At work.  I mean, at home, now that's a different story.  But when someone wants something at work I can usually get it done within the next few minutes or at least by COB.  So, with that being said I've had a lot of piddle time today.

I've been browsing around the web and facebook and what not.  While I was on facebook, someone made a comment on my wall.  I clicked on my wall and noticed that there were more *likes* on my link to my blog post from Friday.  Upon further digging, I found that an old employer who shall remain nameless, but is majorly a total hottie actually clicked on the *like* button!  Oh em geeee! HE READS MY BLOG???

Hellz to the yea!!!  My original goal was to make my family laugh and keep them up to date in the daily goings on of Mississippi life.  It's neat when they post comments on my blog and makes me feel loved.
I mean, yes, I write it and post it to like, *put it out there* and all.  But, I'm really impressed with the different types of people that are reading my blog. 

Because hello! I by no means am as good a writer as Shauna Glenn.  And I don't have nearly as many followers as Brittany Gibbons.  But you gotta start somewhere right?  And writing is so fun and a HUGE escape for me.  Sometimes I just want to tell y'all everything I'm thinking.  I don't have the problems that the aforementioned ladies have like going poop in a public place or an irrational fear of flying.  But for some reason, their shit is so funny to me, it makes me want to confess to you, my readers, something uber strange about myself.  Also, I'm not nearly as pretty as Shauna and Brittany, have you seen those ladies?  They do however, provide me with a lot of confidence.  Once, I sent a picture of myself to Brittany and she was like "oh my god, you are so not fat" and I was like "um, hello, do you wear glasses because I think you forgot to put them on!" I thought it was pretty sweet of her though because she did notice my hair.  She said it was pretty or something like that.  Yes, I do have pretty hair.  I work hard at having pretty hair.  My entire morning is spent on having pretty hair.  My kids hate it that I take so long making it look like pretty hair.  My husband rolls his eyes when I slap his hands away from my head as he tries to run his fingers through it, but damn it, it took an hour to flat iron that shit so leave it the hell alone!

Sorry, back to my point.  I don't really have one.  I just wanted to reach out to you lovely readers and thank  you for reading my silly stories.  It's the bomb.com/yourmom (read: the bomb dot com slash your mom) that you take a minute out of your day to read my thoughts.  There is no method to my madness what so ever.

Most of the time.

Jan 7, 2011

Elliptical Nightmare

So it's the New Year and everyone and their grandma is at the gym these days. 

I can't even find a damn place to park!

I purposely started two weeks prior to New Years day so I could get myself established in a routine.  Show my face daily.  Get the others used to me.  I get on the same treadmill every.single.day.  Turn on the same channel.  Enter the same program.  I think I even wipe my face at the same time.

Not yesterday!

As I pull into the parking lot immediately, I started to panic.  My treadmill.  My TV.  Undoubtedly, they would be occupied by a set of strange feet.

Sure enough, as I rounded the corner, past Beefy Bill and Stocky Sam staring at themselves in the mirror, I noticed my treadmill was being used by some skinny bitch who didn't really need to be there in the first place.  Why couldn't she take her happy, ponytail ass outside to run the streets where everyone else can see her?  Instead she had to take my treadmill in the far corner where not a soul can see me sweating my piggy butt off! 

I could walk around the track until a treadmill opened up.  Nah.

Maybe, I'll start on my arms workout and then do cardio.  Nope.  More skinny chicks occupy the weight machines conveniently located to the hottie sitting at the trainers desk.  My, don't they look cute in their matching spandex.  Barf.

The only option left was the elliptical machine.  Fine! 

I drag myself over to one of the two elliptical machines open.  Hey, I've used an elliptical before.  Surely, they're all the same.  Except these machines *looked* different.  More buttons, more options. As I get on, I do know that I have to actually start moving so the machine will turn on.  I start moving, choose the Weight Loss Program and enter what seems like my life history just so the machine can tell me that I'm going to burn 5 calories! I get to the end finally and decide that wasn't so bad, maybe I'll switch to elliptical from treadmill. 

That's where I was wrong!

The second I hit enter after putting my weight in that sucker tightened up like a rubber band being stretched from here to China Town!  I glanced down at the guide and the little monster decided to throw itself into a Resistance of 20! 

TWENTY!!!  You're kidding me right?  Well, then...let me just reach down here and knock you back down to 5 or 6.

Not happening. 

I pressed the buttons again.  Nothing.

By now, Mr. Muscle has climbed on the only open elliptical machine next to me.  Punched in his numbers and he was off like a race horse climbing the Mayan Ruins.  I notice his resistance is set to 30.  THIRTY!

Now I don't want to change mine because he'll think I'm a wimp.  All of the sudden I hear all this beeping going on and skinny bitch next to me is upping her resistance.  Now hers says 30.

Oh hell naw.....I ain't touching mine now.  I can take these two.  Fat girls can run too!

After only three minutes sweat was literally *pouring* off of me.  I had one of those carpenter rings around my neck.  You know, where your face is sweating so much that the collar of your shirt is just soaking it up faster than the sweat can roll down your face?  Nice.  I think I even had sweat in the crack of my ass and my light pink shorts now had a nice fuchsia stripe running down the center of them!  There was no way in hell I was getting off that machine before those two assholes finished.  Their time was set at 30 minutes so I re-entered mine to 35.  Ha, ha!  Suckers!

I can't tell you for sure because there were some black spots all around me but I think I shouted out to Jesus a few times and threw my hands up in the air.  That has to be the only reason everyone kept asking me if I was alright.

When I stepped off that stupid machine, my legs felt like jello sticks.  My ears were ringing and my eyes were burning with mascara sweat dripping down my face.  I felt like I could pass out at any minute.  I just had to make it to the cleaning station, get a towel and some spray, go clean the evil machine and make a beeline to my car. 

As I left the gym, fake smile and a wave, tears were streaming down my face.  The guy at the desk said he'd see me tomorrow.  Real funny, Jerk! 

Especially since today I thought I'd be cute and wear my new boots with a damn 3 in heel. 

Big mistake.

I cannot move. 

It takes me more than 3 minutes to get the nerve up to squat over the toilet.

I may possibly pee my pants on purpose just to avoid using the big stall in the restroom where there is a handle on the wall in which to brace myself as I lower down to the toilet.

I scream when I sit in my chair at my desk.  I sent an email out first thing this morning nicely asking my co-workers to come to me if they need me as I will not be capable of getting up.

I ate lunch standing up today.

All I have to say is that skinny bitch better not be on my treadmill today or I'm gonna grab her by the pony tail and drag her to the not so friendly elliptical machine that nearly killed me last night!