Persnickety Ticker

Really with the spam comments?

2012-02-12T14:11:00.002-05:00

Thanks to all those new readers I have. I appreciate you and welcome! To all the spammers: fuck off, already!

I just got back from a week at Disney. It was loads of fun, and I lost 10 lbs! Woot! It seems now I have managed to contract an "oh fuck-nuggets, I'm sick again" plague that has rendered me feeling all blegh and stabby towards spammers...

At a frenzied snail's pace.

2012-01-02T19:14:00.003-05:00

I have been sitting here all day. I should be getting ready for my art show in two days. I'm not. I should be visiting my friend Chris who is dying of cancer in the hospital. But, I'm not. I should be exercising, playing with my child, cleaning my house, making jewelry, shopping for my daughter's winter clothes or making a gourmet meal for my family. But, I'm not.

Because for the last few days I haven't felt like doing much. Call it depression, lazy, or feeling like I have been kicked repeatedly by a very large horse, I just haven't had the motivation to do more than tinker a little with some jump rings and play Facebook games.

Oh yeah, and go to a completely depressing New Year's Eve party where I had no one to talk to, nothing to do, and no one to kiss at midnight. I am just a giant ball of MEH. And a squishy one at that.

I need to be smaller. Happier. Livelier. Funnier. Better.

Now I just need to figure out how...

Happy New Year!!

2011-12-31T19:36:00.002-05:00

Wishing anyone who still comes here a very happy new year! I am alive, not hospitalized, recovering from a stomach flu, and have made a resolution to start blogging again. I miss my funny. I need to find it. I'll write until I do or someone puts me out of my misery. Punx is fine and growing and thriving. FCB is still a cranky old bastard. I have been dating unsuccessfully, but have come to the conclusion that I am not the craziest person I know. I have a couple of dear friends who are reaching the end of this journey called life and I am sure the outpouring of words will come when the time comes. Oh yeah, I had a heart attack in October. Still here. Suck on that Modern Medicine!! Hope y'alls new year is safe and soberish and happy!!

Pick me.

2011-09-08T16:52:00.003-04:00

Inside of every one of us there is an insecure little child, standing on a kickball field, terrified that they are going to be the last one chosen. Or not chosen at all.

I was the one that wasn't chosen.

They would make excuses like they needed someone to be the cheerleader, or the "assistant" referee. Or having one extra on the team wouldn't be fair to the other team. If I had a dollar for all the excuses, I would have had enough money to hire a hit man to give all my enemies the wedgies and noogies and cooties they all deserved.

What does this little anecdotal story have to do with anything, let alone the fact that I haven't blogged in a damn coon's age? Not a damn thing.

Or everything.

Cause my life, as of late, has just been downright complicated, yo!

Lately? I have been battling friends, friends issues, friends relationships, family issues, car shopping for my mom, tonsillitis for the Punx, trying to get my business off the ground, health issues, heart issues, matter of the heart issues, friend's matter of the heart issues, friend's heart issues, friend's health issues, whole muthafucking subscriptions, and a vacation to the Florida Keys.

Plus I have been trying to teach myself how to play a harmonica. And when I get that down pat I am going to complicate it by trying to play a ukulele at the same time...as soon as I also teach myself to play the ukulele.

I'm suffering from Disney withdrawals. BAD. To the point that I may even be typing this all while wearing a princess costume. Maybe. Possibly. Probably. OK...I am.

I've had many new friends come into my life, and with them all of their drama and stuff. I have had old friends grow so distant that it took me 45 minutes this morning to remember one of their names.

Life changes. And it gets busy and complicated and sticky and yucky and sad and lonely and if I don't get a visit to tropical island with my very own sex slave soon, I am going to erupt. Or explode. Just call me Mt. Lakanuki.

And of course, it never fails. Whenever I actually sit down to write a blog, even if no one has bothered me for 4 hours, I end up with 16 interruptions, 4 phone calls a couple of text messages and spilled coffee on my keyboard. I guess it serves me right for drinking coffee at 5 in the afternoon.

So that is what has been going on. If I break it down it would be about 100 blog posts. But most of them would make you cry. Or need medication. Or alcohol.

I'm trying to find the humor and the snark in my everyday and it just seems to be a little lacking, lately. Sorry about that. No one can be happy or perky all of the time. I know people that would punch me if I tried.

Punx is going through medical stuff. FCB is miserable and hating his job, but glad he at least still has one. I am up to my ears in chainmaille trying to get ready for a festival in October. I am debating homeschooling because my daughter is not normal enough to be Stepford-Stamped-Approved and not special enough to wear a bedazzled helmet and lick windows. (That wasn't meant to offend anyone, and if you are offended, then I suggest you turn off your Internet, TV, radio and lights and hide in a dark closet for the rest of your life because I'm going to let you in on a secret: The World is a mean and nasty place that will eat you alive and shit you out before it crushes you under its heal.) (And no, I am not bitter. Much.)

Where was I?

Homeschool. We seem to be doing well at it. I send Punx to the little red building for socialization. She cries before she has to go and is excited when she comes home and has had a lot of fun. Then she will do school work at home all on her own without prompting, and then cry herself to sleep because she doesn't want to go to school the next day. I hope and pray every day that she will find a friend. So far that hasn't happened.

I also hope that kickball has been abolished.

So far that hasn't happened.

Still alive...but I am pretty sure I cashed in that ninth life.

2011-04-17T15:14:00.003-04:00

I had a nasty bout with pneumonia about a month ago. Through the wonders of inept doctors and uncaring emergency room staff, I got to have a fabulous and lengthy reunion with all of my dead relatives and friends while I was slumped over (probably dead or at least having a great hallucination!) in a wheelchair in the corner of a hospital waiting room. Then to top it all off, the nurse of the year (big bucketloads of dripping sarcasm there) couldn't find a vein after only 15 seconds of not hardly searching for one so she rescinded all of the doctor's orders for lifesaving medication. She was the highlight of my whole visit! (mind that deep puddle there...) So I am home, alive, and pretty much ignoring all the frantic (and weekly) calls of both my cardiologist and my GP. The little wifi box that reads the difib in my chest is apparently snitching on me and now all those medical types are getting their panties in a wad. Personally? I am upright and breathing so I would like to keep it that way. No more doctors for me for the near future. The call it PRACTICING medicine for a reason. In other news, I had a showdown at high noon with the principal at my daughter's school after I called the superintendent and snitched on him. His phone call to me was awkward and uncomfortable and when he asked what he could do to be more accommodating to me personally, I replied that he could just stay as far away and out of mine and my daughter's life as possible. He wasn't happy. I was thrilled that the shit rolled downhill in the county school system here as fast as it did! Speaking of awkward and uncomfortable, I unfriended the ex-girlfriend and her best friend on Facebook. I still haven't heard from the ex, but I heard from the friend in an indignant email asking what she had ever done to me to make me delete her. I answered that I was trying to avoid the very conversation we were having. I hate awkward. It gives me the wiggins. Other than that, things are quiet on the persnickety front. Life in Stepford is moving along at it's usual and boring pace. And as I have said before, (Chitown...I'm talking to you here...) I can be found on both FB and Twitter where I am just a hair more updatey that on here. I am AbsoluteLeigh on both. Come find me! Until the next time my faithful and loving friends, I leave you with these sage words of advice: Never trust a person in a white coat. They are either there to poke you, prod you, lock you up or kill you. Either that or they just have really bad 80's fashion sense. Don't say you haven't been warned!

I'm about to see a spike in blog hits.

2011-03-04T20:00:00.003-05:00

Because I always get more traffic when ever that Bones episode is on where Sully sails off into the sunset. I posted the song on here a lifetime ago. Bring on the the hits. Click a google ad while you're here or something.

Oh yeah. To all my regular readers...I am no longer dating. She ended it in a flurry of excuses, cliches and cold I-don't-give-a-shit-this-doesn't-really-matter-to-me-ness.

It's all good. She has a lot of issues she needs to work on, plenty of baggage packed, and didn't really bother to get to know me. I doubt she even read this blog.

Meh. Only I could have a 2 month long one night stand.

Hope everyone is well and life is good. I think I am coming down with the plague. Or at least a really nasty series of horrible crippling asthma attacks. Imma go lay down now...carry on...

I'm fixin' to kill y'all with cuteness!

2011-01-25T09:28:00.007-05:00

Throughout the rest of this Year and all of 2011...

May you always make the right moves.

May your cup runneth over with love.

May you always find shelter from any storm.

May you remain good looking and looking good!

May you find the perfect diet for your soul.(If this face doesn't make you want to stop eating sausage, nothing will.)

May you find perfect balance in the company you keep.

May you have as much fun as you can before someone makes you stop.

May the worst thing that happens to you come in slobbery pink and furry tan.

May you manage to make time for siesta.

May all the new folks you meet be interesting and kind.

May your accessories always harmonize with your natural beauty!

Should your mouth be bigger than your stomach, may you have a chewing good time!

May you always know when to walk away and know when to run.

And may your friends always bring you joy!

Yep. Dating.

2011-01-09T16:26:00.002-05:00

We have been on like 5 or 6 dates so far. Actually I'm losing count. But loving that the time seems to blur and stretch and ahhhhhh. She is fantastic and smart and amazing and funny and witty and pithy and snarky and brilliant and beautiful! And yes I said she.

Waiting for the room to clear of all the people who just hiked up their judgmental thong into their tight asses.

Clear? Great.

Onward and upward! And speaking of upward...just made the Punx some muffins for lunch (or dinner...we don't do schedules much...ever) and she said to me, "Wow, Mommy! Look at those muffins suck!"

I must explain that due to her "Special Snowflake-ness", she uses substitute words when she doesn't know the right word to insert into her vocabulary. She's a Smurf. Only instead of using the word "Smurf" every so many words to talk, she uses "Suck" and all of the tenses that go with it. She's great at using the proper tense "Sucking, Sucked, Sucks" but while it cracks me up all the time, strangers are totally offended/confused/lost when she talks. Her other word is "Creepy."

She meant, "Look at those muffins rise!"

I totally got her. We didn't miss a beat. It wasn't until later that I had to go back and give her the right word. Otherwise the next time she is at school and sees a cupcake she is going to proclaim its "Suckiness" and then I'm gonna get a call from the PTA or some shit.

I made some chili the other night and that stuff is calling my name. Please excuse the hunger/ADD but I am gonna go eat. Just thought I would share a little more in the hopes that someone other than one (HI CHITOWN GIRL!!!) or two (HI GRAMMARPHILE!) people are still out there waiting for an update.

Told ya I was going to blog more.

Resolutions.

2011-01-02T00:43:00.003-05:00

My New Year's resolution was to start posting to my blog more often, starting with the first day of the year!

Now my resolution is to make sure I procrastinate everything to the very last minute. That way, based on the timing of this post, I will have actually succeeded at one of them.

Happy New Year!

By the way, totally healthy this holiday season unless you count being infected with a case of the fuckits. No hospital visits. Xmas happened on time and wrapped (barely) and I sat my bored ass home one New Years Eve and watched Andy Cohen get drunk in HD.

Oh, and I am dating someone now. LET THE LOVELIFE BEGIN! (not that I am excited or anything....SQUEEEEE!!!!)

More (often) updates (I swear) to come (I really mean it this time) soon! Hope everyone had a great holiday! (I know for a fact that 4 of you are still checking for updates occasionally.)

Update

2010-10-31T11:28:00.003-04:00

Since I last blogged, I have been busier than a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. A one legged man in an ass kicking contest, if you will. I have been making chainmail for my first ever River City Pride Festival (a craft show of sorts) and I had my first showing. I have been working on my website http://www.beadserious.com and my little girl turned SEVEN years old. So of course....we went to Disney. I have had so much to do and so little time to do it all in...even my Facebook games have been ignored.

Just too damn busy.

So I figured you 3 readers that were left were due an explanation of my not here-ness or my did-she-croak-on-us-ness.

Not dead. Did spend a week in the hospital, but they never found the reason for the excruciating chest pain. One opinion was it was all in my head. I said, "No, Muthafucka, it's in my damn CHEST!"

Doctors. Pffffftttt!!

So, alive...doing OK. Not as busy anymore. Takin it easy, and going to go decorate my house for Halloween...on Halloween. Then I am going to take a nap. A November-long-nap.

Have a safe Halloween!!!

Wrong on so many levels.

2010-09-07T14:03:00.006-04:00

So you would think by now I would have mastered my timing at going to the grocery store in Stepford. Certain times of day and you can avoid the crowds and do the shopping with ease and efficiency. I have not figured out those times.

Today I managed to share my shopping experience with the mostly dead, near dead, undead, a cat is going to eat my face soon after I am dead, "Jesus! How old are you, anyway!", and "You were really a childhood friend of Jesus? Cool!" There is a little bus that drops them off once a day for them to get their cat food and shit and then haul them back to the retirement home up the road.

Most of the time I go in the mid-afternoon. So do all of the rest of the Stepford wives and their heathen demon spawn. Overheard in the store, "Do you want another cookie, Tiffie?" (There is a one per customer limit on the free cookies. 'Tiffie' is also like 14 years old and looks like she wants the floor to swallow her up whole.) And of course, "Wellington Washington Jones IV, you get over here right NOW!" (The fact that this kid has 3 last names is not the issue. The fact is that 3 people ahead of him had the same fucking name and no mother had the sense to say, "WTF? I am SO NOT naming my kid that!") Welcome to Stepford. (They also point and stare at my kid because she will get dressed up in full Disney Princess costume and come to the store with me. She's 6. When else in your life are you going to be able to get away with going grocery shopping in a ballgown?)

Which leads me to the first display of WTFness and wrongness that I happened to spy in the store today on a lower shelf.

Look at that strategic straw placement! The brain trust who thought this up should be sporked. It is so wrong on so many levels. The placement of the straw, the seedy Drag Queenie aspect of it, and the fact that a child would actually have to SUCK LIQUID FROM THE UNFORTUNATELY PLACED STRAW!!!

Don't even get me started on that beverage being milk.

I'll give you a minute to compose.

Better? On we go!

This is the next version of HUH? that I have spotted in suburbia.

Just goes to prove that some people really are "Batshit Crazy!"

Y'all have a great day, now! Don't let your Tuesday be a Monday! (If it starts acting like a Monday, you have my permission to slap it hard enough to knock it into next Thursday.)

Rumors of my death...

2010-08-05T19:19:00.002-04:00

Are running rampant like I am Bill Cosby or some shit, yo!

No really, I am not dead. The blog? Totally on life support. I have been watching and I have seen the 4 of you that show up faithfully, and to you, my friends, I say....Way to stick with a bitch!!

Life is crazy. You all know that. My family life is redefining dysfunctional on a daily basis. FCB is a nag, and I am now nicknamed the "Harpy". Joy. I am having Facebook fights with my family for everyone to view and as of tomorrow, it will have been a year since I have even heard from my father. (And I had to make that call a year ago, at which time he hurried me off the phone because he was late for drinks with friends.)

The father thing? Hurts. Lots. I'm dealing.

My little sister having a baby and it's a boy? Wonderful news! (But I know that that was the last shred of hope I had at ever getting my dad's attention again.) Which led to the Facebook fight.

Which led to my older sister not telling me she was pregnant, even though I knew way back at Easter, because she thought I was going to lose my mental/emotional shit. I got the call today. Because the BIL wanted to put it on the internet this afternoon, but she didn't want me to find out that way.

I think they are all just skerred of muh wicked-bitchin' FB fightin' skilz. I haz dem!

Then on top of all of this, I was invited to be a part of my city's Pride festival this year by selling my chain mail jewelry that I make. (I'm up to my eyeballs in jump rings and trying to produce as much as I can in a very short time.)

Oh yeah, and I have been homeschooling the Punk over the summer. I am hoping she will pass Kindergarten this year. 5th time's the charm, right? (Otherwise she will be the smartest 18 year old in the 6th grade...)

So I've been busy. Not the homicidal rage-look out she's gone postal and is mounting Stepford skulls on posts in my front yard, busy. But busy with day to day, nonetheless.

How are all of you? What's new in your lives? I have read some blogs late at night on the iPod when I remember to do it before I fall asleep (who am I kidding, I don't go to sleep til dawn) and have been trying to keep up, but feel free to lambaste me in the comments about how much you missed me, or didn't...

If you follow me on Facebook, I am funny/snarky at least once a day there. You know, in case you needed a more regular dose. Hell, I may even surprise you and post something tomorrow on this blog! Who knows...right now, I got a 6 year old begging for a grilled cheese and a snoring FCB waiting on the jambalaya that I am trying not to burn. Talk amongst yourselves. (Like you haven't been for the last 3 months.)

I'll be back!

What's Up Wednesday.

2010-04-28T18:24:00.004-04:00

Wanna know what I just spent 20 minutes doing? Deleting comment spam from my blog. Fun, huh? The worst part? It was all in Chinese. And while I realize according to the blank stares of my family some days, I seem to wake up speaking Chinese for all that they actually listen to me and do what I say, I do not in fact KNOW ANY FUCKING CHINESE! Cashew chicken? We are great friends. Chinese language? Not so much. I also happen to think that eggrolls smell like ass, so I don't generally have much to do with Chinese.

Other than that, Wednesday seems to be same old same old here in Stepford. School and the usual afterschool errands. Shopping for patio furniture. We have taken the Field of Dreams approach to our backyard. If we build it, we may actually have people that want to come over and socialize with us and prove that we aren't actually the hobbits that we think we are becoming....what? Huh? Where was I?

We are setting ourselves up for ultimate entertaining. Hot tub, lighting, grill, seating...now all we need are friends...

With summer coming on, we are getting prepared to do a lot more boating and according to FCB a lot less "Disney-ing". PPPHHHHBBBBBTTTT! What does he know? I am a true Floridian. I know how to do Disney in the summer. You wait till the sun goes down and the sunburnt tourists go home! Then you hit the parks.

My daughter wakes up every morning and asks me if we are going to Disney today. I'm dissapointed that I have to tell her no. I could so crawl the parks all day. She loves the rides I love to people watch. Some of the getups that those people put on to go to a theme park make me shake my head in wonder and shame to even call myself a human. It's almost like they take all the luggage from the airport, shove it in a huge blender, mix well, and dole it back out to people as they leave the terminal. Thus you have a dad in plaid shorts, a long sleve shirt and polka dot tie and socks with Crocs in 90 degree weather. The moms aren't much better. Good rules of thumb? Tight ain't always right and I doubt you are going to find any poles to dance on for tips in the Magic Kindom, K?

So anyway. That is what is up with my Wednesday. Nothing thrilling. Barely funny. Hell, I am almost nap inducing at this point. (Which actually sounds like a fabulous idea right about now...)

So how was your Wednesday? Feel free to comment below. I'm warning you though, if you do it in Chinese I will poke you to death with my chopsticks!

Blogging from Honda.

2010-04-20T10:01:00.005-04:00

So here I sit at the Honda dealership and I am so totally blogging from my iPod. Why? Cuz there is nothing fucking better to do. My magical sliding door on my minivan decided to stop working properly yesterday. Just wouldn't shut all the way. So I was all proactive and called the dealership to make an appointment. They gave me 9am. No human should ever have to be exposed to car dealers and their native habitat before the butt crack of noon. It's just plain inhumane.

So I pull into the service bay and go to show the guy what is wrong and it doesn't do it. I try again? Works like a charm. Damn minivan. It seems to be just as persnickety as I am. So I tell him to take a look anyway and he tells me if they don't find something wrong then my warranty isn't going to cover it. I then asked him if I should just bend over right there and did he need to borrow some KY since my butt was tingling like I was about to get fucked over. These guys see a pair of tits and automatically see dollar signs. Us females are complete idiots after all and will believe anything a man in a tie tells them.

But where was I? Oh yeah, so I tell him what I want, approve no more than an hour of diagnostics, and ask them to fix my powerport while they're at it. Went to go grab breakfast (yay chick-fil-a!) and here I sit. I figured by parking my ass instead of going home they might actually work on my van versus letting sit on the lot all day. So, while I realize that this post may not be thrilling or even very funny, it did prove that I intend to blog more often and can do it anywhere there is wifi while playing with my iPod. I guess this little sucker is good for something other than checking my facebook!

Still Ticking.

2010-04-19T09:50:00.002-04:00

I really am. Even though I have been a complete slacker on my blog. I blame Disney (not really) and the stalker (yes really) for not posting regularly.

Wait?! Stalker?

Yep. Evilness hit my inbox.

I had someone who was emailing me regularly after they read every post to tell me how horrible of a person I was and how I was going to die, and should die, and bad mom...blah blah blurgh.

I blocked them. Then I did it again. Then I did it again. Then again. No comments on the blog, just my inbox. That was right chickenshit of 'em wasn't it? I was beginning to think it was the person who slammed me a while back about drinking the wine, but was never actually able to make the connection.

Oh well. I let it get to me. I'm over it. Fuck 'em. Don't like me? Don't like what you read? Don't read. For the 8 of you that stuck around? YAY! I LOVE YOU! YOU ARE THE AWESOME! I PROMISE TO LIVE UP TO MY TITLE AS MESS AMERICA AND TO BE ALL I CAN BE AND RECYCLE AND RESCUE ROAD KILL AND...you get the idea.

It seems life is returning to normal somewhat. I am blogging. I have been feeding my snarkivore with friends and family and have gotten back into baking cakes and remaining upright and breathing on a daily basis. The new batteries in my defib are scheduled to last 9 years. My Punk is refining her smart-assed personality into someone I am truly proud of, and FCB and I are not only getting along again, we are giving the whole "relationship that doesn't suck" another go. It may last, it may not. (The annual Disney pass that he bought to accompany us on family outings doesn't hurt.)

So I am back in the saddle. And while it may take a while to remember how to ride this horse, know that I will fall off repeatedly to make sure to supply my adoring readers with plucky comic relief.

Just a little update on the Punk, she is not doing so great in Kindergarten and they are talking about holding her back. She peeled a bunch of pink crayons the other day. They told me that was disruptive behavior. It was all I could do not to laugh in their faces. She comes home and says things like, "What is that curious noise?" and uses words like "humongous" and "disgusting" "revolting" "exhausting" and of course, my favorite, when asked to clean her room..."Mom! I can't! It's too TEDIOUS!"

She will be the smartest 18 year old in the 6th grade.

She stood there in the hall the other day and said, "Aww shucks!"

I laughed and asked her where she learned that from.

She replied, deadpan, "I'm just growing."

I love that kid!

So that's it for the moment. I have to run and do all those errands like shopping and cleaning and general "mom" stuff. (Cuz I am just a horrible person that way...) My inbox is still open and my comments are not moderated. I am sorry I let someone get to me to the point that I stopped doing this because now that I have started again, I remember how much I really liked this. If you plan on leaving a great big steaming pile for me, make sure you tie a great big ribbon on it. I'm ready. Bring it!

Cuz I just need to get it out.

2010-02-15T23:57:00.003-05:00

Some one on my Facebook asked why I didn't just report the big bad doctors for being meanies to me. Like it would really be that simple. Like car shopping without a penis is quick, cheap and painless! (And anyone with breasts will know exactly the tone of sarcasm that the previous sentence should be read with.)

In case you aren't on my Facebook friends list or just don't actually know me in person yet or are just tuning in (HI! Welcome!) I have been beeping for a week. Yup. You read that right. Beeping. My boobie alarm has been going off at 5:11 and 11:11 both AM and PM. I say boobie, but it is really in my left chest muscle. And since my tatas resemble cantaloupes in socks when not in a bra, and have a close personal relationship with my bellybutton, it is located far above my left breast.

The beeping is a warning from my implanted cardiac defibrillator or ICD. It seems the sucker has had enough and the batteries are dying on me. The powers that be just decided a nice death warble at 5AM was going to be oh so funny and timely at letting me know it was time for a change. The bad part is, to change the batteries, you have to remove the whole unit. Which involves slicing my skin and muscle tissue open and going digging around in my chest cavity with a set of salad tongs looking for the little fucker. Ahh...fun times!

I don't want anymore surgery. I would be happy just to let the little thing die a slow death in my body and sit there defunct for the rest of my life. When I said as much to the nurse today in the cardiologist's office she looked at me like I just asked her if it was alright for me to set myself aflame right there in the office and take everyone working there with me. Seriously. Aww, horror and disbelief across this woman's face in a priceless expression! If I had a camera with me it would have been a great shot! I went on to tell her that I just didn't want the thing in my chest and would only agree to surgery if it was removed entirely an not put back. I then got a very audible, "Blink-blinkblink--blink." Like the thought of not having a toaster in my tit was unheard of!

Needless to say...lots actually going on here. Went to Disney for my birthday and had a good time, then got back home long enough to grab my kid and drive to Georgia for a less than 24 hour visit with my 70 year old aunt for her birthday. That whirlwind trip got me sick. So I was in bed last week nursing myself back to health. Took me days to figure out that the beeping wasn't the computer, TV or phone, but actually me. Weirded me out at first. Just glad the sucker didn't start glowing. I also got in touch with a long lost friend this past week and had a 3 hour phone conversation with her. It was nice hearing from her and catching up.

FCB actually remembered to get the Punk and I something for Valentine's Day. I got the big box of Whitman's (my favorite) and Punk got a little heart box of chocolates and a kissing Mickey Mouse. (Seriously, the sound this thing makes is supposed to be kissing but after about the 300th time the sound just makes you want to gag a little.) FCB got a Fillet Mignon dinner and the promise to make fall off the bone ribs on his first day off. Oh yeah, and a card from Punk and one from me. The card Punk picked out was $8. Yeah. That wasn't a typo. It lights up though, and hopefully one of these days, earn its keep by doing the dishes. The one I gave him had a Wookie on it, so it's all good.

When FCB gave Punk her Valentine's gift, she busted out with a, "Oh my gosh! For me? Dayuhdee that is sooo sweet of you!" I swear I not only have no clue where she gets this stuff, but will one day earn an Oscar for it.

Punk had her annual check up last week and they had to prick two fingers to get blood out of her to check her iron and sugar levels. It was like trying to put a sweater on a feral cat. She screamed and squirmed and I got so fed up from trying to hold her down to get the blood out of her that I told her that either I can keep fighting her or she can grow up a little and do it herself.

I found the magic phrase.

She stood up straight, stifled the tears and gave the nurse the bird and said, "Here! Take it!"

I love that kid.

FCB had an outpatient procedure last Friday. While he was being worked on in the back she asked me if Daddy was sick. I told her no, that this was just a check up like she had and he was fine. She got this look on her face and said, "Uh-oh. That's not good."

I asked her, "What's wrong, baby?"

"Daddy's so big, he's gonna bleed ALOT!"

Did I mention that I LOVE that kid?

So please excuse my unblogginess as my life has been hectic and a bit snotty as of late. Have an early morning appointment with my regular cardiologist to discuss my surgical options. I am dreading it as much as a Walmart mirror dreads bathing suit season. Hopefully no one loses an eye with all the expected blinking that will be going on. I'll keep y'all updated....

When you gotta go....

2010-02-13T16:57:00.003-05:00

"Eww, Mommy? Did you go potty?"

"Yes, Baby, I did. I'm sorry. Sometimes going potty stinks."

"But Mommy! It stinks! It's creeping me out! You made my nose unhappy!"

And earlier in the day (now keep in mind it is cold outside), "Mommy? I need to go swimming!"

"No, Punk, it's cold outside."

"But I have a sweater! I can use that to go swimming!" Now that right there is determination.

Attention all spammers!

2010-02-10T14:37:00.002-05:00

You will be deleted right before I set my attack rabid pet raccoons and possums on you while I am removing your testicles with a pair of rusty garden shears.

And if you didn't have testicles before I started torturing you, you will wish you had them so that I had stopped there before moving on to other protruding appendages.

NO SPAM ALLOWED!

I thought about posting yesterday...

2010-01-30T15:10:00.003-05:00

But I got over it. I was tired and had a long day of embarrassment and eye strain along with one too many cocktails at lunch. So here ya get me well rested and sober! Don't blame me if I'm not as funny.

So...lots of ground to cover and going to try to do it all while the FCB is out of the house and the Punk is asleep to avoid any unnecessary interruption. Recap of the last week: Monday I overslept from the afternoon nap and was late picking up the Punk from school. I mean I was THE LAST parent in the line for parent pick up. I was admonished by a stepford wife that I was doing psycho-social damage to my child for life for being the last parent and embarrassing my child in front of her peers. Yeah, right. Like a kid who will start spontaneously breaking out into a Disney medley in crowded public places has soooo many issues with being easily embarrassed. Moving on.

Tuesday we had an appointment with the opthomologist for the Punk. Exactly one week earlier I was volunteering for the school vision and hearing screening when some stepford that they handed a machine to and told her to aim it at the eyes of a child and the fact that she didn't drop it right off the bat was her only qualification at using the fucking thing, told me that my child failed the vision screening so badly that it was a wonder she could even see to walk. WTF?! You don't tell any mom that kind of thing! Especially one that is taking the time out her day to help you with your clusterfuck of an attempt at vision screenings for small children! After she told me this and 2 other moms had ducked out because they had to get to work or some such, I suddenly came down with a bad case of IDON'TGIVEAFLYINGFUCK and told her I had a thing and needed to jet. So I left. Left her to finish her screenings on 300 more kids with just her and another stepford that had taken way to much of her child's Ritalin. They could manage. So back to this past week and we are in the waiting room for the doctor to see her and this is after they dilate Punk's eyes and who should appear but a man dressed in a Ronald McDonald outfit, makeup and all, to come say hi to all the kiddies in the hospital. My daughter almost wet herself upon seeing him. I carry a camera everywhere, so I got a picture. It's adorable!

She walks up to him and tells him, "You made me pancakes this morning! Thanks!"

I asked him how often he heard that phrase in the morning. (He was cute all up under there!)

After the appointment and the doctor telling me that my daughter is as blind as a bat we returned home to search out places to go to get some "pink and sparkly glasses" so "I'm gonna wear glasses like Mommy" and I am glad she is so excited about it because at her age I didn't want anything to do with glasses even though I needed them badly. She ended up with a pair of blue glasses ("Like Cinderella!" Even though Cinderella doesn't wear glasses and I think she is referring to the color of Cindy's dress there.) and a pair of pink (non-sparkly) ones for her backup pair. This should be an adventure when they come back from being made in 7-10 days.

So I think I slept through Wednesday since I don't remember it and I am just that damn tired.

Thursday we ended up at the doctors office for the Punk because she has a UTI. She is being a trooper about it and even taking her medicine. (A monumental achievement for her!)

Friday dawns with me having an eye exam at the same place we went to get the Punk's glasses. I invited Moose (best friend for any new readers, FCB stands for the Fat Cranky Bastard I live with and Punk is my daughter. All clear? Carrying on...) along to the appointment for an opinion on frame selections. Since the last time I went to get glasses the lady told me I looked like I wasn't a day over 45 with the frames I selected and I was actually 32 at the time, I needed to get the input of someone who loved me that I trusted. Even after asking about 10 strangers and everyone in the store that worked there, I still needed another opinion. So I dragged Moose out of bed to meet me at the glasses place to endure this all with me cuz that is just how I show my love. I had an appointment at 11 and didn't get seen until noon. Why? Because the doc was a talker. Chatty even. Before he even looked at my eyes he was telling me the names of his kids and all kinds of other information that I really didn't need to know. But let me back this story up a minute to share with you, my dear readers, about a nifty new machine that they have that can take a picture of your retina. The lady assisting me tells me that they have this new machine that for only $10 can save me from them having to put those awful drops in my eyes to dilate them. Unfortunately it isn't covered by insurance. WOW! Only $10? I would give my left tit not to have those damn drops in my eyes! Ten bucks and you are SOLD! Best $10 I have ever spent! (And I mean no disrespect for any hard working crack ho's out there.)

So the doc starts the eye exam and put this machine in front of my face. He couldn't get it all the way to my forehead because my boobs were in the way. He then went on to chat about how some woman eye doc had invented a machine to accommodate women and their tatas. I was all like, "And why don't you have one?"

Then the conversation went to golf being harder to play for women than men because of the boob issue. I asked him if he had ever seen a woman with larger boobs play golf and for some unknown reason proceeded to demonstrate. Moose then chimes in that I don't play golf. I told her that I used to all the time and then the doc said he didn't play often and didn't see the appeal.

Then, in the most excellent feat of shoving my foot in my mouth, I proclaimed that it was fun to chase around after little balls to whack them with a stick. Moose and the doc lost it. It was like Gigglefest '10 in there.

We finished up the exam and he said I should see better than ever now that he corrected the screw ups that the last place told me I just had to live with. I thanked him and told him that I liked that he took the extra time and it was like other places where they just had you in and out, in and out. At that point the new round of giggles started and the doc said IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE STORE...We started it off talking about chasing balls and ended with in and out, in and out.

Talk about one purple colored Persnickety. Embarrassed wouldn't have even begun to describe what I felt at that moment.

Off to Chili's with Moose for lunch and some much needed pina coladas where we found the menu to be changed yet again (they do that about every 6 months) and almost every dish has cilantro added to it. I can't have cilantro. Call it an allergy or whatever, but when I smell or taste cilantro, it's like I am chewing on some homeless man's dirty socks. just a nasty, foul, almost metallic smell and taste. It's gross. I told the waiter that someone went a little overboard on the cilantro and for as much as it was listed in the menu they should just change the name of the place to Cilantro's. I had a steak sandwich. And I think I will wait another 6 months to go back until they change their menu again.

So that was my week! Thrilling, no? Next week should be more interesting as I am going to go "Drink around the world" at Epcot for my birthday celebration, "Leigh's older than Jesus!" Hopefully a great time will be had by all. I got a room on property, so the Mouse will be the designated driver for the evening.

Hope everyone has a great week!

My Fabulous Friday Night

2010-01-10T23:44:00.004-05:00

This was an actual Facebook conversation on Friday night. It should be noted that most of the conversations between me and this friend are just as wonky. Read this first, and then we can delve into the rest of my so called fabulous life. The comments in bold parentheses are my added charm and wit after the fact. I thought this conversation needed commentary here and there. My snarky sarcastic present to all of you. Happy fuckin holidays.

8:47 Leigh
Boo

8:47pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
ahhhhhhhhh
aint skeerd

8:47pm Leigh
LOL

8:47pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
wha cha doin

8:47pm Leigh
Um...talking to you....
Kinda thought that was obvious.

8:48pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
thats me...capitan obvious

(I guess that makes me Sargent Sarcasm)

8:48pm Leigh
Now with new and improved BLUE LIPS!
I thought your profile pic was oh so Tim Burton of you.
Creepy, yet cool.

8:49pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
heh heh yeah... i like it too. took it after watching the movie daybreakers last night

8:50pm Leigh
You went to the movies or rented? What was that one about?

8:52pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
vampires... went to the imax with j.
his bday last night

8:52pm Leigh
Ah. OK

8:52pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
also had dinner at an ethiopian restaurant
it was an interesting night

8:56pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
hows the punk and you doing?

(Massive interuption by the Punk because she thought the floor needed a fresh coating of chocolate milk. I think she just tests me occasionally to keep me young and on my toes.)

9:31pm Leigh
She is tired so there is a lot of whine to be had at casa Persnickety tonight
playing video games all day mostly tho

9:31pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
ahhhh. poor punk.

9:31pm Leigh
FCB and I went to the gastric bypass seminar last night
Sorry about that delay. Spilt milk

9:32pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
ahhh howd that go?
the seminar

(I had to giggle at the fact that she felt she needed to clarify that the comment was about the seminar and not the milk. Stay with me, folks, it picks up from here.)

9:33pm Leigh
He is so sick he could barely stay awake
medicated and losing his voice
I am not a candidate. Even for the band.
He is tho He has an appt next week

9:34pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
ugh.. whatever yous guys got passing around there... keep it there. i cant afford to catch it
why cant you have the band?

9:36pm Leigh
Punk and I are fine
HE is the one that is sick. I am holing up in my room like he has the plague
Cardiac wise, this practice won't touch me

9:37pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
lol... but i know you hadnt been feeling well and the kid is on antibiotics...so im just saying...
ahhhh...you and that ticker

9:37pm Leigh
Actually, I feel better than I have for weeks.

9:37pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
good. hope it stays that way

9:38pm Leigh
She is on the antibiotics because we are hedging our bets against bedbugs.
That is the only reason she is on them

(Long story short, hotel from hell that I stayed at near Disney in between the holidays was possibly infested with bedbugs. Punk was bitten over 100 times. She is completely better now. Stay away from the Buena Vista Suites. Moving on.)

9:39pm Leigh
He wanted to make sure the hives weren't because of a bacterial thing, but I have never heard of bacteria giving you hives. She only had them on Tues and hasn't had anything wonky since.

9:39pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
ok.... like i said... just saying... i dont need no crudilicious junk in my immunity system

9:39pm Leigh
I know.
Just letting you know what is going on. Easier to type here than it is on the itty bitty phone

9:40pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
lol yeah
thats why ive been on here all day... ive have been one lazy mutha farkle all day. havent moved from the couch other than to warm up some beans for dinner

9:42pm Leigh
Lazy Mutha Farkle is hereby and henceforth now your Official Other Nickname. LMFAO!!

9:42pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
LOL thought youd get a kick outta that

9:43pm Leigh
Oh, so you are lazy but providing your own ozone for personal global warming...good thinking!

9:43pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
gotta do something...expecting snow flurries in the morning

9:45pm Leigh
we are too

(Yeah, right. Getting snow here where I live in FL is like saying Hell is a great ski resort.)

9:46pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
i knoe i know!!!!

9:50pm Leigh
excited much?

9:50pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
naw
lol
not me

9:52pm Leigh
You would think you had never seen snow before in your life...

9:52pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
lol...only a couple times

9:53pm Leigh
Hey, what program can you use to turn a negative image into a positive one?

9:54pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
photobucket.com

9:55pm Leigh
eh. I was thinking something already loaded on the computer like paint or something

9:55pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
paint sucks...

9:57pm Leigh
He got a new machine that turns slides and negatives into digital images

9:58pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
thats cool... has he played with it yet?

(Captain Obvious must have just taken a mental coffee break there.)

9:59pm Leigh
He is playing with it right now. I keep hearing LEIGH and MOMMY from the other room
Always need something.
I don't remember anyone catering to me when I was sick. And I can't tell you the last time anyone got up to get me a drink of water....

10:00pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
put a sign on your door saying leigh is unavailable at this time, please leave your message after the beep....

10:01pm Leigh
HEHEHEHe
Wom
argh fat fingers
won't work
they know I am in here and will bust down the door.

10:02pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
if you lock the door and climb out the window they will really be shocked

10:02pm Leigh
or pee on the door to get me to come out...either one

10:02pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
ew

10:03pm Leigh
I should get a reward. OR a trophy. Or a hot little pool boy named Agador or something. I am an underappreciated mommy.

10:04pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
lol... id just sneek out and go to the bar and not tell them

10:07pm Leigh
Meh. I would have to brush my hair and put on a bra to go to a bar. Too much effort involved in that.
I'll just make up a sign that says Door is electric, piss at your own risk...

10:08pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
bwahahaha

10:09 Leigh

You do realize this is so going to be a blog post, right?

10:10 Lazy Mutha Farkle

Yup. Figured as much.

10:14pm Leigh
Names will be changed to protect the flatulant.

10:14pm Lazy Mutha Farkle
bwahahaha thank you

So that was it. Thrilling Friday night, no? Saturday wasn't much more entertaining. Went shopping today and the store was out of almost everything I normally buy. It was like the end of the world was here and everyone cleared out only the shit I wanted. Made for a grumbly Persnickety. What was neat about the trip was Punk wore a princess costume to do the shopping in. I figured, she's young and can get away with it. Unlike the folks over at PeopleofWalmart.com. (Warning if you do go to that site and have never been...pee first. Don't attempt to eat or drink while viewing. If you must throw up after seeing some images, don't say I didn't warn ya.) We had a couple of little girls who thought Punk looked fabulous and asked their mom if they could get dressed in costumes the next time they went shopping. (trying to start a trend here) There was also a crosseyed old man that was following us up and down the aisles. I turned on him and asked him what his problem was. He claimed he had granddaughters and Punk reminded him of them. I was all like, yeah. That's nice. Get in the cart Punk. She did after rearranging some groceries.

I am all for everyone having the personal right to be creepy and all, but when you start ogling my daughter...Get the fuck back, Jack!

Moral of the story? Out of everything in stock but creepy old dude grocery store not going to be the one I shop at anytime soon. I will drive 5 miles down the road to the other store.

And that is the tale of the most fabulous and entertaining weeking in my life since last weekend. Promised to be more bloggy. Didn't promise my life would get more blogworthy. Hope everyone had a great weekend and no one got yelled at by their homeowners association for still having their Christmas lights up! (Raising guilty hand and waving the biggest bird around to the stodgy old fucks in the association.)

Oh and by the way, if anyone who still reads this and isn't already my Facebooky neighbor and wants to keep up with my daily mental flatulance, I am AbsoluteLeigh on Facebook. And Twitter. But I barely tweet. I'm just twitless that way.

I resolve...

2010-01-05T22:53:00.003-05:00

To blog more in the new year. People are still dropping by so that must mean that someone somewhere out there is still interested in what I have to say. Right now I am waiting on laundry to dry. I would rather be sleeping. I haven't stopped running on overload since October. My life is screaming GOGOGOGOGOGO and my heart is just sitting back all petulant and shit going, "Fuck you, Lady!" Seriously. And sleep? I don't get nearly enough, lately.

I was so exhausted the other day that the Punk could not get me up for nothing. She would try to rouse me and I would hear her but I just couldn't come around to awake or vertical. Then I hear..."Daddy? Mommy won't wake up. Where's the butter?"

Ever see a fat woman leap all ninja style off the couch and into a standing alert position from near comatose?

Um, yeah. It musta been hilarious cuz the Punk giggled.

I know I have been all horrible and shit not to have kept the masses entertained these last few months. So sue me. Well...don't sue me cuz I am broke and you wouldn't get shit. But be happy that I have a computer back in my room and can now blog at will and don't have to be at the mercy of a laptop. Crazy shit has been happening, and believe it or not, I have been taking notes.

Notes?

Yup. Notes. I knew one day I would get around to sharing. Wanted to make sure I had something to share when I did. (I actually just spelled SHART instead of share and was going to leave it had I not just gotten spanked by spell check. Told you I was tired.)

We have been boating lately. Boating. Yay. Mostly it is fun except for the nagging Fat Cranky Bastard. One of these days we just may come back from a trip short one passenger. Or at least he will be less of a man since I will chew his ass off for yelling at me. He is rusty at boating. I am new at it. That doesn't make for a fun little sail around Small World or anything. If he could kill me with a life preserver he would try it.

Lots going on there, and like I said I took notes. I have so much to share and so much to get into and ooooooppps. There went the dryer buzzer. Night y'all. Tomorrow is another day and I have to start it at the pediatrician's office. Punk has pink eye. And hives. Something going on there. Rather catch it early before I catch it too. More to come....

***I just saw that someone out there found my blog by googling "Tom Kruse shirtless". Umm...folks, Tom Kruse invented the Hoveround mobility chair. Not exactly the spankable material you were looking for, huh?

This is my happy. At least until I am there again.

2009-10-28T09:13:00.001-04:00

Isn't this the coolest thing? Amazing!

Whoever invented Snickers was a genius.

2009-10-26T13:33:00.002-04:00

Because those wonderful little bite-sized edible orgasms in a wrapper are the best fucking things ever invented!

Oh, and mad props go to the folks that thought up the concept of letting your freak flag fly and dressing up to go relieve your neighbors of all their candy. Awesome.

So been a little busty...er busy. (typo. left it. made me giggle.)

There was Punk's surgery a couple of weeks ago to remove some teeth. Then we had to party like it was her birthday (it was) in Disney last Tuesday. Best moment of the day? I was watching littlest niece while family trudged through the Swiss Family Robinson Treehouse. I was sitting in my fart cart watching the camel at the Carpet Ride not so randomly spit on people. Not so random, you say Persnickety? Why yes! Yes I said that!

Case in point. A man was yelling at his little boy while his wife walked a couple of paces behind pouting. The whole family looked miserable as shit. This guy was just going at the boy and berating him when all the sudden....

CAMEL SPIT! RIGHT IN THE FACE! BULLSEYE!

I want THAT job. The job where you get to sit in a little booth somewhere with a little red button to squirt all the assholes at Disney. Dream job.

Said asshole was PISSED. He started ranting about how disgusting this and that and sue Disney this and that and blah blah whine blah.

Awesome.

We had a great day. Only sad thing? No pass renewal. FCB told me I was going to be able to re-up my seasonal passes and then called me halfway through the day to tell me I couldn't. Asshole. I swear on my own grave I will have those passes by Thanksgiving even if I have to go out hooking with a sign that says will laugh at your dick for Disney passes.

Anyway.

Lots going on today. Epic battle with Social Security and their phone system. Post office, therapy, grocery store...the usual supermom stuff.

Just thought I would dash off a quick update to let you all know I wasn't dead or lost forever in Disney (I wish!)

Hope everyone is having a non-sucky Monday!

Do you think I could get them to write Happy Birthday Asshole on the cake?

2009-10-12T17:44:00.002-04:00

Do you ever get so busy that you never have time to write? Or do you ever have so much to write that you dread sitting down to do it because there is just so much to put out there and you don't know if one blog can hold it all or even if your readers would want to hear it because it isn't all coated in a warm chocolaty layer of snark? Or are you just to damn addicted to Facebook to click over to blogger and bang out a post because there are virtual crops to harvest and high scores to beat in Bejeweled?

I leave it up to you to decide which one of those excuses will serve purpose enough for you my dear readers.

Although, I have to admit, Facebook has it's perks besides being a time wasting sucking vortex of unproductivity. I can whip out a sarcastic comment several times a day that has nothing to do with anything and I don't have to worry about weaving a blog post around it. Hell, I don't even have to worry so much about spelling and grammar and blogger's wonky spellcheck that thinks words like WONKY don't exist.

Excuse me a moment while I go on a booger excavating mission for my Punk. She comes to me with a flashlight and a hankie and expects me to work miracles.

OK. Back now. And thoroughly washed my hands up to my armpits. Can't be too careful with all that yuck floating around in the world today.

So the reason for the title of the post is because it was FCB's (That's Fat Cranky Bastard to any new people out there. Oh, and Punk is my 5 year old daughter. Soon to be 6 though.) birthday on Friday. We went to Disney. He got a cupcake from the Prime Time Cafe in Hollywood Studios. He came home and said he still needed a WHOLE CAKE to celebrate. Oink. I went to the bakery today and picked out the cake, and when the nice lady asked if I wanted anything written on it, I asked for "Happy Birthday Asshole!" She told me they aren't allowed to write swear words and besides, it wouldn't all fit on there anyway. So I asked if we could just skip the Happy Birthday. She wasn't amused. I then asked if I could hold the icing bag. She wouldn't let me do that either. Harumph. Evil bakery hoity toity stickler for the rules...

FCB has been on a roll lately with the assholiness of his attitude. Excuse me a moment again while we have yet another argument. OK. Done. Still think it should be legal to stab people with a spork and then tenderize them with an aluminum baseball bat (chink!) before feeding them to all the starving rabid wild animals that have lost their homes to deforestation.

Ahem. Where was I?

So life has been blogerific here. Lots to write about. Yet I haven't cranked out a post in a while. I figure one post this week alone will just be pictures of all the shit I have been taking pictures of and promising myself to put on the blog. Don't go all cardiac arrest on me dear followers, but I plan on posting more than once this week. I know. Shocking. Maybe even a little pshaw of disbelief. But it's true. Lots to get off my chesticular area, and what better place that this blog that I set up so long ago to do just that with.

This post was just a warning of posts to come. I actually have to cut it short because I am getting yelled at that there are people in this house that need to eat to survive (the nerve!) and it seems I am the only one that knows how to turn on the stove or open the refrigerator and actually remove the edible stuff inside. So farewell for now you lovely people that are actually still coming to read this blog and haven't given up on me. I really appreciate you. I should get you guys a cake or something.

I promise not to write and swear words on it when I do. (Well, at least not any legible ones.)

Thucked Up Thursday.

2009-09-24T12:01:00.002-04:00

There is a guy standing in my back yard watching concrete dry.

I want THAT job when I grow up!

Other than that, I am having a bad heart day. I awoke last night from a slight case of death, only to start breathing again. Eh. It happens. At least I wake up in time to start breathing again. But after that I not only couldn't breathe right, but my heart is just working too damn hard today. I had to sleep on the couch sitting completely upright just to not feel like I was trying to tour the inside of a tight plastic bag wrapped around my head. It is thumping like crazy and I get winded from just changing my mind. I answered the phone from when Feisty called this morning to tell me she had found fodder for our Crazy Lady Saw What?!? blog, and I was out of breath. She asked me if I had ran across the house to get the phone...I told her nope, just leaned over the sink. That's not good.

So just generally feeling like I am craptacular at this whole staying alive and vertical thing today. Hopefully it will get better.

The backyard in coming along. The house is getting unpacked. I have been given free range to decorate the crap out of this place for Halloween. (YAY!) FCB's reasoning is that our yard ornaments shouldn't walk away now that we are in a better 'hood. I am just sad that they only offer cool shopping choices for lawn and door decoration once a year. I even have my two gargoyles, Winston and Egon, from the last 2 years posted at my new front door along with my spiderweb welcome mat. Christmas? BAH! Halloween? BRING IT ON! THE DARKER THE BETTER!! I do everything in my power to leave that stuff out all year. If I am going to be forced to live in Stepford Suburbia, I might as well use every opportunity to scare the shit out of the locals. I'm never going to fit in here, anyway.

Little update on Punk's school sitch. A meeting was had. My demands were met entirely. She is going to stay in a "normal" class with "normal" kids and a resource teacher is going to come once a day to help with one on one instruction during learning time. Way to use that grant money from the gov't that you are getting paid for my daughter anyway, school! So I am happy, my daughter is less confused about being shuffled around since they weren't sure where she belonged, and I think I made the administrators pee a little in fear of me during the meeting. All is well in that part of my world.

Now if only I could get this persnickety ticker of mine to work properly, we would be groovy.

If any of you happen to have a spare heart shoved in the back of your garage or attic that you aren't using any longer, could you FedEx that over to me? Kthnx.

Not dead...or circling the drain even...

2009-09-20T12:12:00.002-04:00

I have just been trying to take care of so many things all at once, and dammit! I only have two hands, one head and one heart. Gimme a little slack, huh?

There was no WUW or Thucked Up Thursday because, well...I was in Disney. Again. This time with my best friend, Moose. Or Meuse as she likes to spell it now. I tease her because I just see Me-Use. Me use phone. Me use bathroom. Me use wheelchair. She laughs but I secretly thinks she hates it when I tease her like that. My other best friend (I have three currently, and just wait, cuz I am saving the doozie for last) is going to give birth any moment. If only that baby would get the hint that it is time to come out. I volunteered to wave a green flashlight at her cootch to let the baby know it was an OK-GO, and she politely snickered a negative on that one. So luckily she didn't squat a watermelon while I was gone, but she is very done with being pregnant. The third best friend is going through a really rough patch right now, indeed. A couple of weeks ago, a day after her birthday, and on a day when they were supposed to go to lunch to celebrate her birthday...he never came home. Turns out he was arrested for allegedly killing his own stepfather. And then the news said he confessed. I think he is covering for his mom, who he thought was being abused. But then again, everyone has their theories.

She is as we speak, having to pack all of her belongings and her two girls and move into her mom's house while she tries to figure out how to be a single mom with no job and no husband and no insurance, all in a small town where the townies are all treating her like the wife of Charles Manson and the concubine of Ted Bundy. It hasn't been pretty. She is overwhelmed and lost and confused and I am three states away and can't give her a hug and tell her it's all going to be alright. I can't because I don't know that it is and my arms don't stretch that far...

I had a good time at Disney, but I feel guilty for going when someone I love is suffering so. I thought about her, and Feisty the Preggo, non-stop while I was there.

The really great news to come out of it all though? I may be able to either work at Disney selling my jewelry at festivals, or I may be able to get Disney interested in buying my stuff. I got a card from a woman there that was admiring my designs and said I should contact headquarters. Fingers crossed and we will see how this goes.

I have a whole blog entry in the works about the Disney trip, because with just us two adults and no Punk? It was hilarious. I even took notes so I would be sure to blog about it all. But I just got my stats for the week and it turns out, for some strange reason, no one comes to read my blog when I don't post something new. Huh. Go figure.

Thanks to all my loyalies to hanging with me. I promise to eventually get my house unpacked, my kid's school straightened out, my best friends lives back on track, my Facebook and Disney addictions under control, and crank out more massed produce funniness with the blog. Oh, and if any of you are as addicted as I am to Facebook and miss me so much you want a daily dose of random? I am AbsoluteLeigh on Facebook. Just sayin'.

Thucked up Thursday.

2009-09-03T09:26:00.003-04:00

Because I missed WUW (What's Up Wed-Nes-Day.) And I say Thucked up because? Oh it so is. Let's start from last night. While driving in the dark (I don't see well in the dark) and in the rain (I really don't see well in the wet dark) I had the uber pleasure of sharing the road with some drivers that shouldn't even be allowed out of their cages.

Please Mr. Motorist: If you must get a blowjob while eating your burger, smoking a cigar, and texting on your phone? Please pull over and park somewhere out of the way like the rest of us do when participating in all of those activities simultaneously. The rest of us sure would appreciate it, and I am sure that blonde whose head was bobbing up and down would love it if you didn't get all that ketchup and those ashes in her hair. OK? Great! Thanks!

Oooops. Movers are here. For the second time in 2 weeks. Because they thucked up the first time. Be right back.

Still with me? Fabulous. So the movers just finished moving the second half of my stuff. They didn't move it the first time because one guy was on the ball with the packing and the lifting and the moving and the other guy hadn't discovered the many joys of deodorant let alone the motivation to DO HIS THUCKING JOB. So my garage stuff and all the boxed stuff in my house? Didn't get moved. Which might be a good thing considering that almost none of my stuff in the first round of moving escaped damage of some sort. Mr. Stinky Mover just didn't give a thuck and decided to toss, throw and generally pitch all my possessions at random where ever he thought they belonged and not where I told him to. What a thucking moron.

So now all my stuff is in the new house. We are now ready for our own episode of hoarders on A&E. We have tower of boxes and stuff and little paths through the house. Anyone bored and wanting to come help unpack with me will be welcomed with fanfare, a parade and pizza. Vodka and mixers are available.

So anyway, while I was waiting on the movers to get here, and having dropped off Punk at school a little later than I would have liked due to her morning attitude, I was rearranging the garage so that the movers could basically unload the truck into it and we could just sort it all out later. They weren't getting paid for this second trip and I thought I would try to make it all easier on them. While I was doing that the landscaping guys in the front yard decided it was time for a thucking throw down.

Let me give you a little back story on the landscaping. We live in a swamp. All of Florida is a swamp. Once upon a time a bunch of developers took a long hard look at this swamp and said with the brilliance of stoner who just found his long lost stash, "Duuuude. Let build some houses here and call it thucking stepford suburbia!" And thus? I live in a swamp. Lots of frogs, lizards, toads, a pond with fish big enough to eat your head and a gator in heat that lives out in the woods behind my house. But I digress. So this swampy yard is looking a little shabby, and since we live in an association, we have to keep it well maintained and green. Maintained? Checkeroo! Green? Eh...not so much in some spots.

So we called around to some companies to find out how much it would cost us to resod some of the yard. $300. $600. $6000. Uh, yeah. You read that right. One company wanted $6000. Just to resod with ONE pallet of grass. For that much money it better be the thucking Chippendale dancers resodding my lawn. Naked. With free pina colodas thrown in.

So we went with the $600 guys. Why? Because we learned from the past mistake of hiring the cheapest painter who couldn't even show up to do the job with a ladder and yelled at me because I didn't have one for him to use. Ahem. Issues there.

Well the $600 guys show up on Monday. Three guys in a truck sitting across the street from my house staring at me creepily as I shuttle my kid off to school. The head drunk gets out of the truck and says gruffly, "Hey! Where is it we are supposed to lay yer sod?"

"Um...the brown spots?" I got a half-pissed, half-confused look.

"Well you only got one pallet comin' and I ain't gonna have enough to do all of it!" He snapped, nastily at me.

I then pointed out the worst spots with as much dripping ire as I could muster. Told him to do what he could and we could always order more sod. He grumbles at me that he would be back the next day since the sod hadn't even been delivered yet. The next morning? Back. Sod was delivered the previous afternoon. On my way to drop the Punk off at school? Accosted by the snappy head drunk sod guy.

"Hey! Lady! This here sod is to damn thick! I can't work with this! I don't have a shovel or any of the tools I would need to lay this thick sod! Why did you order it so thick?"

I resisted all urge to lay into this guy verbally. It just would have confused the shit out of him. I told him I wasn't aware that there was a sod thickness standard, but I was running late and would take care of it when I got back in ten minutes. He got pissy and stormed off to his truck. Then the second guy comes over to me and politely tells me that they are under equipped to handle the sod laying for the day, so they would be back Wednesday to prepare the ground with the proper tools. Which translated into redneck is, "We'll be back termorrah with a shovel."

So yesterday they showed up with...weedwackers*. They then tore up the dead grass with them and left for the day. I guess they are union and they did their 20 minutes for the day.

This morning they show up, with shovels, and start working. I was getting Punk off to school when drunk sod guy #1 comes up to me and said, "I need to get rid of this dirt! I am gonna throw it in yer pond out back!" Umm...OK. Fine by me.

When I got back from school drop off, the three landscapers in the front yard are about to have an all out throw down bitch slapping smack down. Who knows what they were fighting about, but I was afraid I was going to have to get the hose. And sell tickets.

Lots of thucking swearing going on. Head drunk sod guy about to pulverize #3 sod guy with #2 sod guy trying to break it up. Head drunk sod guy threw his shovel into the ground and impaled one of my new pieces of sod.

"Hey! I don't mind if you kill each other but could you not take it out on my lawn? Oh and hose the blood off the sidewalks when you are done, huh? We just had those pressure washed!" By the cheap painter who didn't have a ladder and killed all my grass when he pressure washed my house and walk. Ah...good times.

So we are going to let the $600 guys finish out the day and the job of totally screwing up the resod while refraining from killing each other. Then we are going to make a call and hire some more guys to come fix the mess. Word to the wise in case anyone ever got a wild hair up their ass to inherit a house, remodel it, and move into it, all the while trying to improve it. DON'T DO IT! Back away from the dead relative's will and run as fast as you can with the cash to some tropical paradise! You'll thank me.

Hey?!? How come none of you are thucking knocking on my door to help me unpack yet? Thucking slackers...

*Blogger's suggestion for my misspelling of weedwacker? Wetback. So.Not.Even.Kidding. I shouldn't laugh, but my computer screen has been clean of laughed out coffee spray for way too long, now.

I feel like I should break out into song!

2009-08-30T13:56:00.002-04:00

So I am standing in my new kitchen and loading up my new dishwasher (ehembraggingehem) when my daughter comes up behind me, evaluates the situation and promptly proclaims, "Mommy! You're doing it wrong!"

"Doing what wrong, Punk?"

"The dishes! All WRONG!" (At this I am giggling because I have no clue what she is talking about.)

Pad-pad-pad-pad-pad go her little feet as she runs off to the other room, then pad-pad-pad-pad as she runs back into the kitchen and plops down my high heels in front of my feet and then assists me in putting them on.

"There. You have to wear heels while you do the dishes or else Prince Charming will never come to rescue you!" Pad-pad-pad as she runs from the room laughing like a madwoman.

At this point, I was glad I wasn't holding anything breakable because I was near tears with laughter. I continued to load the dishwasher when I hear the little pad-pad-pad come up behind me again.

"Mommy? Where are the jelly beans?"

"We don't have any jelly beans, Punk. Why do you need jelly beans?"

"Because my arm is asleep and that is the only thing that can wake it up!"

I love that my kid can be just as random as I am. Thought I would share the funny with y'all.

WU-WTF-W

2009-08-26T16:26:00.002-04:00

So I get the phone call today from Punk's new school. I am conflicted about how I feel about it. On the one hand I an glad that it seems someone finally woke up and read her registration, on the other hand, they have yanked her out of a mainstream class and plopped her right back into a special needs class. A.R.G.H.

It seems someone saw me crying hysterically in my minivan after I went to orientation on the wrong day last week. I was told Friday. Kindergarten orientation was Thurs. I was the only parent in the random class that they placed my child in that didn't show up on the right day. I showed up on the day the front office told me was the day to show up when I had registered her the week prior. A.R.G.H.

The nice lady on the phone started every other sentence with, "I heard a rumor..."

I wasn't very good at the high school games in high school. I sucked at playing Telephone in the third grade. I have been plucked out of Normalville and dropped-kicked into Creepy-Assed-Stepford-Yuppyville-Where-Everyone-Repeats-Every-Single-Move/Word/Shit-You-Take-And-Discusses/Evaluates-It-At-Length. (Just for the record the Post Office officially groans when they see that addressed on an envelope. They don't fucking like to venture out here, anyway. These folks bite, y'all.)

So I have to go into the school tomorrow to straighten out all the misunderstandings (theirs) and help to get my child situated into the correct learning environment. (Did y'all just hear that creepy voice chanting "homeschool"? No? Just me then? Alrighty.)

This should be interesting since they have very strict rules about where you are allowed to drive and park when it comes to dropping your kid off. They would like you to toss them out of the side of a rolling SUV to help streamline things. Or better yet, it you live less than 5 miles from the school, "We encourage parents to walk or bike ride with their children to school to help in the pick up/drop off process. This will cut down on automobile traffic and help our kids get healthier!" Yeah, I see the reasoning in that. Or here's a thought, Muffy! Stop driving your huge-assed SUV that sucks the planet dry of resources to a school that you know you aren't zoned for but you lied on your registration so that your kid could go to the "right" school anyway and you just have to have a vehicle that big when there is only your 5 foot tall ass and your snotty little 10 year old fucktard that told me in the hallway at orientation that I should "Move it, fat-ass!" before he jaunted off down the hallway proclaiming that, "people that wide shouldn't be allowed in the building."

Ooops. I seem to have gotten carried away there. (True story, though. Got called a fat-ass. Just another little push over the edge that had me bawling in the minivan last Friday that is now the talk of the neighborhood this week because these people have nothing better to do or are all out of their little prescriptions that make them normal or some shit....ahem. Sorry. Got carried away again.)

So. What's up with your Wed-Nes-Day? Wanna come help me unpack? I have to find some "normal" clothes to go to this meeting in tomorrow. FCB has forbodden me from shaving my head into a mohawk and dying it purple. I am resisting the temptation to put my nose ring in. Think I could find a tattoo shop close by that would stamp me with Yuppyville Sucks? I miss my friends. They are nice "real" people that don't judge. One of them is off pregnant somewhere about to give birth, another is trying to earn a living in Orlando. Yet another "friend" that I haven't met yet but I have a suspicion lives close by, thinks her 2 year old will tear up my house...I say anything he can do would be an improvement at this point.

I need a drink. I need some of my "normal". I am tired of this move already. I want a pool in the backyard. Oh, and a hot pool boy wearing a thong and holding a tray with a fruity tropical drink and a check for 10 million dollars. Yeah...that would hit the spot.

Anyone else ever feel like a bleeding guppy in a large shark tank? And how was your Wednesday?

Because I am lazy-sick-overwhelmed-takeyourpick.

2009-08-25T17:27:00.002-04:00

I know...I know...BAD PERSNICKETY!

I was reading my daily blog list today when I left a comment on something BusyBeeSuz wrote.

I got an email back from her.

This was my comment...

Persnickety Ticker has left a new comment on your post "If walls could talk, what would yours say?": My Mom's would say, "Complimentary socks provided under the table for all your brussel sprout disposal needs."

Mine would say, "All uneaten mashed potato sculptures will be sold to cover the cost of your meal."

She wrote me: "You are too darn funny…hey, you should start a blog..."

I wrote her: "Yeah...hint hint. Been swamped with the finishing of the house, the move, and now I am on the brink of a hospital visit-sick. Plus I still haven't removed all of my possessions out of my old house. I have 6 days. I am overwhelmed and out of help. The blog will come back...just as soon as I get some spare time. I am pretty sure I know which box I packed that in....

Aaaaand as I write you this little email I realized that that paragraph right there could be a blog update. See? You inspire me!

So there you go, folks. I'm not dead. And my funny is half-way unpacked.

What's Up Wednesday is Thankful Thursday.

2009-08-13T21:47:00.004-04:00

Why? Because I am thankful that Thursday is over. It.Was.A.Long.Damn.Day. But my kid is registered for school, the new house is finished (mostly) and I have moved in, and "What are you going to do now Persnickety?"

"Why...I'm going to Disney, of course!"

Yup. Going to get up at the ass crack of the break of day and get my groove on down in 'Lando.

"How long are you going to be gone, Persnickety?"

"Oh...just Friday, Saturday, Sunday and September."

"No really, Persnick. How long did you plan on staying?"

"Do you think they would let me rent a room at the Haunted Mansion? Or better yet! I could shack up in the Hall of Presidents! I like older men! No wait! I'll bet that I could get a job as the fat wench in the Pirates of the Caribbean and never have to leave!"

I will probably be home some time next week. Or whenever my gracious host gets sick of me and kicks my snoring ass out. Well...not that my ass snores...but you know what I mean...

Until then, if you are dying for a dose of snark, read the archives. I used to be funny. Then I started this whole house project. Now I am jaded and tired and running away from home in a fit of teenage rebellion. Because? I can so totally pull of the teenage tude with great flair and flourish! And on that note? ::eyeroll: and whatever...

What's Up Wedesday

2009-08-05T12:21:00.002-04:00

So how is your Wednesday going? Mine? So far so good. I have rebelled all week from going to the house. I think I have moving issues or change issues or I can't believe the house is almost finished and I am sick and tired of painting and cleaning and I just can't muster the gumption to finish the damn project issues. Oh and then there was that whole food-poisoning/Rotovirus for the weekend...and Monday/Tuesday issue. I have spent half the week in bed. FCB has been chomping at the bit to get me to get up and go finish the house with him. I don't wanna. If I finish I have to move. If I move I lose closet space. See? That's a good enough reason to stay in bed right there!

Speaking of staying in bed...I have been having some wacky dreams lately. Involving people from my distant past. I chalk it all up to my subconscious resistance to moving. I don't deal well with change. Hell, I don't even like to make change. Or carry change. The jingling bugs me.

Anyway...while I was down sick one of the past few days, Punk decided that I needed soup and ice to make me feel all better. But of course, delivering these things to me required me to get out of bed to help her make these things. She decided to inform me that our refrigerator produces ice, "little ice", and lemons. She based this all on the little pictures on the automatic ice maker. The water drop is the ice. The "little ice" is crushed, and the whole ice cubes are lemon wedge shaped. Thus? My fridge produces lemons. Viola!

"Mommy? Where's the soup button?"

So how is your Wed-Nes-Day going?

Mine is about to get more tedious as I am about to head to the house to clean and finish painting. FCB is so totally going to have to build me a pool. And a hot tub. And buy me a golf cart. Something has to make up for me losing closet space.

What's Up Wednesday Late Edition

2009-07-29T22:47:00.002-04:00

So here is your WUW late style. Been busting my ass, busier than a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs trying to impersonate a one legged man in an ass kicking contest.

And is that isn't busy, I don't know what is.

So a couple of random things, a little update, and this WUW is underway and done.

I read today that Coca-Cola is coming out with a carbonated milk drink. I said it a couple of years ago...thought it would be an interesting idea...someone somewhere STOLE my idea and went ahead and did it. Not that I would have had the first idea on how to carbonate milk or have the funds to mass market it, but you get my whole "petulant indignation" attitude, anyway. So there.

What is up with people putting that memorial shit all over their rear windows on their vehicle? I don't get it? Nothing says love and remembrance like "immortalizing Uncle Bob on the tints of my bitchin' civic." Just seems lame to me. Maybe it's just me.

The house is coming along. I debated putting up pics to show what we have been doing but I thing a before/after montage when it is all said and done will have more of an impact. Kinda like, "Holy fucking Jesus H. Christ Jumped Up On A Waffle Iron that is a nasty-assed house!" to "Oh sweet Mary And Joseph Riding Side Saddle On A Unicycle that is an AWESOME house!!"

Needless to say the painting continues. I am still fixing the TERRIBLE JOB THAT KEVIN EDWARDS DID ON MY HOUSE! I say that in all caps because I am inventing all kinds of new swear words while I am fixing his MANY mistakes. I am saving them up though because they are doozies and sound really funny when they come out of my 5 year old's mouth. I can also make that statement and it isn't libelous or slanderous or whatever because he really did do a completely shittacular job on my house. And while I appreciate him hitting on me (cuz it was flattering in a way) I would rather fuck a porcupine sideways than help him cheat on his girlfriend.

In other news, Punk was messing with one of the new "Energy Efficient" light bulbs and broke it. In the process she cut her finger. She bled all over my new floors for 5 minutes before she thought it was a good idea to bring the injury to our attention. We immediately put her finger under running cold water to stop the bleeding and clean the wound when she starts freaking out and screams, "I don't want to put my finger in the water! What if I bleed out?!?"

Two things. She watches waaaaayyyy to much TV to know the term "bleed out" and the new floors would argue with her that she had already done so all over them. (Because if my floors can bring me to floorgasm on a daily basis, they can argue the degree of "bleeding out" that my child is doing. They are just such badass cool floors that way!)

So that was my Wed-Nes-Day. I realize that by the time you read this it is going to be Thursday, but hey...they both end in Y so I am all forgiven for getting this out late, right? Right? Helllllllooooooo????

What's Up Wednesday!

2009-07-22T09:23:00.002-04:00

Good Day to you all out there in Bloggyland! This morning is starting out with a truckload of OWWW sprinkled with healthy heaping of "OH MY EVERLOVIN HOLY FUCKNUTS I HURT LIKE A SOMBITCH!"

And that is what I get for two days of non stop painting.

I am painting because I don't want our house painter to come back to our house because he always has his hand out expecting to be paid. Now while I was flattered that last week he told me he "liked big women" and was willing to enlist me in a rousing round of "hide the salami (as long as you don't tell my girlfriend)", I am slowing starting to detest even the mere thought of him. He came back Monday to paint our chimney and didn't bring a ladder. Then got pissed when we didn't have one for him to use. Then got even more pissed when he said he was expecting to be paid AGAIN for work he had already been paid for. He has been doing this since he started the job. Every day he showed he would say he would come back to "clean up and fix the mistakes" and it would ONLY cost us a FEW HUNDRED EXTRA!! Hmm. Really? Only a few hundred for you to clean up the mess YOU made and fix the mistakes YOU made? How generous.

Then there is the general carpenter that has been on the job. Now, having ADD I appreciate when I see it in other people and those people are able to overcome and hold a steady job. What I don't like is when your ADD as well as your PREACHING AT ME FOR 10 HOURS STRAIGHT SO YOU CAN SAVE MY EVERLASTING SOUL in the most obnoxious way, prevents you from doing your job correctly and efficiently. And then you leave the job for your 3 hour lunch break. Before you come back to work until way past the time I want to go home. And then you just show up randomly in the morning or afternoon the next day. Ahem. That seemed to have gotten away from me. I am not pissed. Really. Well...maybe a little.

Anyway. So far the only part of the remodel that is going perfectly is the Floor Guy. I love me some Floor Guy. He is from Brazil, cute, funny and a pleasure to talk to. As well as being able to give me multiple floorgasms a day. Who wouldn't love Floor Guy!

So now I am off for another day of painting, cleaning and general waiting on people to show up. I get shiny new appliances today. I should get shiny new counter tops and fuzzy NON-BERBER carpet any day now. But for right now? Off to the "Pancake Store" (IHOP) to spend some quality time with Punk since she is feeling quite neglected lately.

So...What's Up with your Wed-Nes-Day?

What's Up Wednesday is catching on!

2009-07-15T07:26:00.003-04:00

Because somebody totally GOOGLED it this past week.

See? I knew there were actual people out there that read my blog! I know this because I see them come in my bloggy front door, walk through a few posts and then totally leave with out even having wiped their feet or commented or gone through my medicine cabinet or anything!

So for this edition of WUW, I am going to post a few things that people are searching for that lead them to my little corner of the interwebs.

Be afraid.

First of all, we have the person that searched most recently for "like a delicate flower". Now I am sure that when they got here, they weren't expecting the rest of the sentence that ended with "that is blooming from a dead buzzard's ass". Hehehehe...I love to surprise people with random acts of crude WTFness.

Then we have the person who searched for..."site:blogspot.com mom 'tie him up'". OK. While I know (better than most I should say thanks to a colorful background) that some people really like the S&M, this is not exactly the blog where you are going to find instructions on binding and gagging someone. Because? If I had actually tied up FCB and duct taped the crap out his mouth, I wouldn't necessarily post it for all the world to see....ahem...moving on!

"You make me run and you make me want to live" was a very popular search this week. That is a song by a group named Fisher. I was watching an episode of Bones (David Boreanaz rocks my socks) and the song was used in a scene where a guy sailed away. It was pretty. I Googled it. I found out who sang the song based on the lyrics and then Youtubed it and then eventually found the mp3. I love the song. I used it in a blog post. They showed a rerun of the episode of Bones on TNT this past week. Thus the explosion of searches that led to my blog. Hope everyone found the info they were looking for!

"Groundhog day ticker" because you just can't wait for that eventful holiday to roll around again and want to count down the minutes?

"25 way to improve your health" is weekly standard for Google results that lead to my blog. There are quite a few people out there that want to get healthy. I seriously doubt my blog will help with that. Plus it is just jammed packed with excess calories.

"Osmil Clan". Really?? This led you to MY blog? Why? WTF is an 'Osmil Clan' and when the hell have those word EVER been on my blog before today? I think the great and powerful Google has been smoking its own shoelaces.

"Hair doesn't move easily" means you are using WAY TO MUCH AQUANET! Cut it out!

"Hair ticker". Because you want to know how fast your hair grows or how many people come to visit it? Have you got nothing better to do? Go watch paint dry or grass grow. Really. Think of better ways to use your time wisely.

"How to put a ticker on a blog". Google it the same way the rest of us did. I can't tell you how everything in this world works! I would lose some of my mysterious charm.

"She is growing up so fast ticker". Are you kidding me? You need a ticker for this? Just go look at the snap shots. Or better yet...get off the damn computer and go read her a book or push her on a swing. They do grow up fast and before you blink their childhood is gone. I should know...my baby is going to be six years old in a couple of months and starting kindergarten in the fall. I just turn around and she grows another inch on me! Ahh...I remember her tiny little beginnings....ahem. Moving on!

So those are some of the search terms that brought people here. If you are bored click the links and peruse the funny that was me...or bogarted by me...from the past.

Only this time? Wipe your feet when you visit my little corner of the blogosphere. Really. Comment or something. If for no other reason? To tell me how your Wednesday is going because I need distraction from the stress of my remodel.

Happy What's Up Wed-nes-day!

I smell like a delicate flower...

2009-07-13T19:37:00.002-04:00

That is blooming out of a dead buzzard's ass.

Because today at the new house? No A/C. NONE. Nada. Windows and doors open and not a breeze to be found. I live in FLORIDA people. If the heat doesn't kill you then the humidity will finish the job nice and wetly.

We had the old unit replaced because there was mold in the unit. And in the ducts. And that was more than likely the reason that I was getting violently ill every time I spent any time in that house.

And then?

They ripped out the wall behind the tub in the guest bath. They needed to do this to get rid of the old tile before they installed the new stuff.

And behind the drywall and tile?

Mold, mildew, and.......massive termite damage. OH JOY!! RAPTURE!!

So all that has to be replaced. As if the A/C wasn't enough $$$.

I figure we should just get a shovel and start scooping money into the nearest deep pit. It would be cheaper.

So work continues on the house. Day after day after day....

The plus side? Every time I walk into the house I have a floorgasm. I love the floors. They are gorgeous!

As the A/C guys were collecting their check this afternoon, one of them looks at it, asks me if I am FCB (Do I look like a Fat, Bald MAN?) and said he couldn't take the check with out a driver's license number on it. I looked at him and said for the money they were charging they should be happy they are getting paid all at once, period! I then proceeded to tell him that I know for a fact the whole unit plus labor probably didn't even cost half what they were charging.

Then I said, "I know we got screwed on this because there is a tingling in my butt and I doubt you throw in lube for that price!"

The one guy was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe. The one that wanted the DL number had a blank look on his face because he barely understood English. Eh...at least someone got a laugh.

I also found out today that the Blank Stare doesn't work in Lowe's. I was in there today for a drain and when I stood in the plumbing section I got no help and a lot of employees looking at me apathetically. I ended up asking one guy for assistance. He actually SUCKED WIND THROUGH HIS TEETH before going over to a phone to call for assistance in plumbing. The 4 different employees standing around watched him do this. Then...they all just stood there. And then they stood there some more. (Gee I want THAT job!) Eventually, I found what I was looking for myself. But not before proclaiming loudly that I was about 5 seconds away from going to Home Depot. (No reaction from Mr. Attitude and the Starers.)

It's just been a long and expensive and frustrating day.

When I went to the school to pick up the Punk this afternoon, I walked in the door and the "Summer School Principal" looked and me and smiled and said, "Are you here to pick up 'Punk'?"

I actually had to stop myself from retorting, "Nope! I just figured I would wander the hallways for a while for the exercise! Here's your sign!"

My child is matriculating at genius central. Those people deserve a cookie or something.

The one thing that has been making me smile all day?

My daughter keeps walking around going..."Gotta get-get. Gotta get-get. Gotta get-get. Hey Mommy? Can I listen to the Boom-Boom song again?*"

She's a trip!

*Boom Boom Pow by the Black Eyed Peas.

Here's your Random. Want fries with that?

2009-07-07T15:53:00.002-04:00

It's been rainy here in FL for the last couple of days. All this rain has led me to one conclusion. That all the Fucknards, Douchenozzles and Twatwaffles have migrated to FL and forgot to pack their driving skills in their little over night baggies. It SUCKS. I would feel safer driving through a pack of grannies that are blindfolded, too short to see over the steering wheel, anyway, and late to go play Bingo.

It's infuriating. Just because I drive a mini-van, doesn't mean I automatically drive like I am driving a mini-van. No, Sir. I don't particularly want to drive 25 in a 45. Call me crazy.

Feisty's Oldest Spawn turned 16 today. I remember the day he was born. Ahh...such a cute baby. It still leaves us wondering what the hell happened. Feisty says it's because I constantly screamed "HELLO BAYBAY!" to her tummy while she was pregnant. She is so screwed because I have been doing it to her this whole pregnancy as well.

I saw a bumper sticker on a car today that said, "Impeach Obama." At first all I could think was, "Why? He hasn't had enough time to screw or screw up that badly, yet." And then I thought, "They can't impeach Obama. That would just completely fuck up the new addition to the Hall of Presidents and Disney!"

Progress on the house is coming along. The first painters completely screwed the pooch on the whole job and had to be replaced by Speedy "Tattoo" Gonzales. That man can paint like a mad streak! Blink and your walls are a different color! I was so impressed and thought things were going to turn out all right....until...I got to the house this morning and the guest bath is completely the wrong color. I picked up the can of paint on the floor that it was supposed to be. Completely full. ARGHHHH!!!!

I asked FCB if we could just hire someone to be me for the next couple of weeks. That would be groovy. Then I could sleep in, play Farm Town on Facebook, and make her pack my shit. That would suit me just fine. He laughed hysterically and said he would replace me in a heartbeat if he could find someone that cleaned. That man is never satisfied. He hated that his wife never cooked anything more complicated than Hamburger Helper. I am a fabulous cook. His wife was an anal neat freak. Meh. I'm neat enough. Clutter is the new clean, I say.

Speaking of clean, the dust bunnies at the new house are throwing a parade in my honor for rescuing them from the filth. They are planning on painting a mural of me right over the shrine they have erected. I feel honored.

I make almost daily trips to Home Depot. Buy this, get that, mix paint. It's getting to the point where the employees know us by first name and are practically rolling their eyes at us when we walk in. I was actually pissed today when I went in and on a hunch decided to check to see if my faucet and ceiling fan had been restocked. They had. I was supposed to get a phone call when the items got in. No call. Makes me want to tie someone up with an orange apron and beat them senseless with a paint stick.

So that is most of the Random that I have for today. Punk is rocking out at summer school. Having a great time and progressing nicely. I am seesawing on the health issues. I have good days and bad. Was in bed last night at 8pm, and sitting here thinking that 5pm isn't too early to call it a night, either. So I am off to hoe myself out at Farm Town for a bit. Gotta make some coin to buy some new seeds to plant. I am such a total cropstitute.

WUW and I'm sooo proud (eyeroll)

2009-07-01T21:38:00.002-04:00

So construction started today on the new house. Or should I say DEstruction. The floors where all ripped out and the carpet came up. The doors removed and everything taped up in prep for painting. I also had to buy this special enzyme stuff because when the carpet was taken up, the pet stains that had saturated through the carpet were everywhere. GAG!! The concrete under all the carpet smelled like pee. CAT PEE!!! Ugh. Nasty. Uber-nasty. EWW.

Did I mention it was gross?

When you walk in this house, you get bitch-slapped back out the door and onto your ass by the cat pee smell. It is truly gag-worthy.

More deconstruction tomorrow and painting to follow. I am there all day, every day, for the next week or two so I have no Internet connection. No TV. Just my Nintendo DS and my MP3 player. Ahh...good times. Not really.

So the reason for the proud eyeroll in the title? We were getting packed up to come home and I gave Punk a little snack pack of cookies. I opened them for her and she dropped them, spilling them all over the floor of my car.

What came out of her mouth next was priceless. I elaborate a little first by letting you know that we have been working on her pronouncing her 'F' sounds lately. She is getting pretty good at it, I'd say.

The cookies drop...the Punk says, "Gods Phhhucking!"

I am overwhelmed with sheer pride. Really. I couldn't have said it better myself.

So how was your Wednesday?

Mourning, Moving, Sick & Tired

2009-06-26T11:48:00.002-04:00

And that about sums me up.

We have been packing and organizing and running all over creation and falling into bed at midnight or later. (Later because I am addicted to Farm Town on Facebook. That shit is worse than crack y'all. Not that I would know what crack is actually like. But I've heard shit. Seriously.)

The living room wall in the new house looks like a paint store puked on it. We have settled on the colors for all the bedrooms and the baths, but can't pick a color we like for the rest of the house. We had picked out this lovely sage, but once that shit went up on the wall it looked like margarita lime. Eww. I know I am ghetto fabulous and all, but even I have limits.

So back to the paint store where the guys behind the counter are laughing at us because we have bought about 2 gallons so far in those little paint sample sizes. The floor guy just looked at us with pity and handed us a number to a color guy that could hook us up. We may actually have to use him.

Then in the mess of all this, I get to the house yesterday and it's all over the news that Michael Jackson died. I dropped to the couch and started weeping like a baby. I am a fan. A BIG ONE. Have been all my life. Even to the point that when Feisty heard the news the first thought she had was, "All that memorabilia Persnick has will be worth tons, now."

I loved that wacko freak. I did. He may have been an evil little troll in some people's eyes, but I had a crush on him since he was black and normal. I even liked him when he went white and weird. Sue me.

I called my sister and was crying and you know what her loving and supporting reaction was to my very obvious sorrow?

The bitch laughed at me.

And then swore she would never let me live it down. That's love, peeps.

My story about MJ was that I was at Epcot once when I was a teen and we were watching the Illuminations. I noticed a Double Decker bus had pulled up behind us. Then up at the top of the bus, I saw....HIM. He was there to watch the show too. I looked up in awe and my mom turned around to see what I was staring at. I said, "Mom, that's Michael Jackson!!!"

At that utterance a Disney employee that was standing guard at the bottom of the bus almost reached out to slap me. She raised her hand then lowered it and asked me to hush and move along. I guess she thought I was going to cause a scene and start a mob. I just stood there and stared at him while he watched the show. As it was ending and he got up to leave, I said, "Michael!! I love you!!"

And HE spoke to me. "Hi! Thank you!" Those words were directed right at me. MICHAEL JACKSON SPOKE TO ME!

I melted into a puddle of teenage goo and started freaking and weeping and jumping up and down like a....well...like a teenage Michael Jackson fan.

And then I wouldn't shut up about it for the next hour. At one point my mom threatened me with death if I didn't shut my trap. And then? I fell asleep in the car before we left the parking lot of Epcot.

I could never make it out of the parking lot as a kid. I can barely do it now as an adult. They should just let us set up a cot and camp. That would be great.

So I am in mourning. I am really going to miss the guy. He had such great potential to make a phenomenal comeback. I honestly have been having crying jags on and off since yesterday.

So go ahead and laugh now, Older Sister.

Still coughing up a lung every now and then. And probably working myself way too hard. Don't even get me started on the problems I have had this week with the bus company that was SUPPOSED to be transporting my child to and from summer school. That is a post in the making and I haven't quite finished it to the angered eloquence that it truly deserves.

Gotta run, there is a granite yard out there somewhere waiting for me to adopt some lonely slab.

Hope y'all have a fabulous Friday.

Oh yeah...and RIP Farah and Ed.

It's a totally accredited course!

2009-06-22T23:14:00.003-04:00

Yeah, that's right folks! Step right up and join my class, Fart Carting 101! I am an easygoing professor that explains things in simple and fun terms. I even grade on a curve!

In my class you will learn things like; "Aiming for that bitch with the dirty look on her face" and "How to totally defend your use of a Fart Cart in 15 swear words or less" as well as gems like "How to not only run over their feet 'accidentally' but aim for their rude little offspring, too!" And my favorite topic of all time, (and this class is a must attend) "How to avoid going to prison for mauling smart assed, idiotic, should have kept their opinions to themselves tourists by backing over their face after they called you fat and lazy by using a totally plausible insanity defense!"

Sign up now! Class space is limited! Refreshments in the form of ice cream and beer (beer floats?) served after every class!

***Update on the news that is me...I failed my Pulmonary Function Test with flying colors today which proves 2 things.

#1. I can't breathe deeply without breaking down into a coughing fit that leaves me peeing my pants and/or passing out. (You should have seen the look on the tech's face when I fell out of the booth, yeah the test is done in a phone booth...don't ask. She lunged to catch me as I was going down and right before I passed out I saw the look of terror on her face as the realization hit her she was trying to catch the full weight of me and there was no way she wasn't going down with me. Ah...fun times.

#2. That little man named Dinesh that is my new doc is going to freak out a little when he sees those results. He wasn't sure how to handle me in the first place, and had no plausible excuse for what was going on with me so he just pulled the term Cardiac Asthma out of his ass to make himself look all smart and shit. Feisty was with me at the time and it took all the restraint we had not to call BULLSHITE on him when the term uttered out of his little mouth. Cardiac asthma was his sellf-important way to diagnose me with congestive heart failure which we knew I already had because all the rest of the docs had already diagnosed that. But I'm sure in his little world he felt he had done a great job and impressed the sheep that he thought I was.

I still don't feel great, but I am still breathing on my own and at this moment upright, so I guess in the grand scheme of things...it's all good!

Move your hair.

2009-06-15T21:23:00.003-04:00

My daughter has this thing lately where she is getting very huggy. I know it is mostly because I have been practically bedridden and she is scared, but she is coming to me and asking for a hug about every 15 minutes. The only problem? My hair.

I used to have shorter hair. (My mom doesn't understand "just a little off the ends". Don't believe me? Ask Older Sister. She has the same problem with the woman.) I usually like having my hair long because I just think it looks better on me. (Plus there were just waaay, waaay too many hair experiments from my school days...) So I have been letting it grow out from the last hack job my mom did. It was chin length...now it is mid back. It hangs down over my shoulders and rests on my chest. She will hug my midsection or even my thighs if my hair is hanging over my shoulders.

"Mommy? Move your hair."

I'll pull it back behind my shoulders and she just tackles me.

I don't know why she won't hug me with my hair hanging...but she doesn't want the stuff to touch her in any way. Such a persnickety kid.

*****

Update on the health: I am going to the pulmonologist* tomorrow. Let's hope I just have heart failure or pneumonia and not Cancer, emphysema, COPD or TB. Not that heart failure is a good thing...but I have traveled that road before and I know where I left all the bread crumbs if ya catch my drift. Because I have to drive myself to the doc tomorrow, I was trying to prolong taking my narcotic cough syrup as long as possible to see how long I could go without it before the coughing fit overcame me. I was all stoked about doing well with out it until a massive coughing attack hit me. It turned out I was only an hour past my timed dose. During this coughing attack I was trying to make my homemade mac 'n cheese. Needless to say...I coughed till I passed out. SPLAT! Fat woman meets kitchen floor. I wasn't out long, but when I got up, Punk was standing over me with dirty panties and needed my help. (Lesson you are never too young to learn? Never trust a fart.) I had to dash off to the bathroom to help her clean up and then quickly wash my hands before dashing back to the kitchen to try to save the mac 'n cheese. It turned out really thick...not usually the way it turns out. I thinned it with a little milk, but by the time I tried to eat it, my throat was tore up from all the coughing. So I didn't even get to enjoy my own cooking. I have since taken my meds...

Ladadadada....feeling groooooovy.....

I am off to lay back down now. It has taken me over an hour just to type this little post. It never takes me that long. I could type out War & Peace in 20 minutes. (Not really. Maybe. Possibly not.)

Fingers crossed that I am not dying of consumption, folks. And that this new doc has the gonads to treat me and not wank out by telling me to just go to the ER. My other new doc has just had the bejeezus scared out of him by my internal fuckedupedness. He wanked out and just told me to go to the ER instead of giving me a stronger inhaler. I let everyone know how it goes tomorrow. Hopefully I won't cough myself off of an overpass while I am driving.

*I'll be damned if blogger spell check had no fucking clue what a pulmonologist was. That's a bad sign, isn't it?

What's Up Wednesday

2009-06-10T23:00:00.003-04:00

Sorry I have been so absent from the blogginess lately, but I haven't been feeling so hot. Most likely (according to the new hunky doctor that I saw today) I am going through another session of pneumonia or heart failure or both. Thankfully he joins me in the opinion that hospital visits suck and is trying to aggressively treat me in the comfort of my own home. (With the solemn promise that I will get my ass to the ER toot-sweet if I become worse on the meds or start hallucinating...whichever comes first.)

Add to all that loveliness that this has been going on for almost 4 weeks and I went to Disney last week for a couple of days to have a good time with my best friend and daughter. I actually started feeling better the few days I was down in Orlando. The day I got back? It was like crashing through a brick wall. The breathing became almost impossible and the coughing started in full force. Now I feel like I have had the shit kicked out of me from all the coughing and puking. Muscles hurt that I didn't even know I had. I have had a low grade fever of at least a month, which spikes when I cough, puke, move, breathe....you get the idea.

So not having the best of WUW's. Only good news? FCBMom's house (finally) is officially owned by the FCB as of today. Free and clear. Now we just have to wait for the redneck trash that is FCBSis and her drunk husband to pack up all their shit and move to their "brand new" trailer in the sticks. Those two not high on my list of people I can tolerate right now. Being sick makes it worse. Every time FCBSis and The Drunkwad open their mouths I want to take a flame thrower to them.

So that is what is going on in my little world. Just trying to breathe from one moment to the next. How has your week or Wednesday been?

Put down the Google and step away slowly...

2009-06-02T20:59:00.002-04:00

I have been checking to see what people Googled to get to my blog and the results made me chuckle. I'll share because I care...well that, and it amazes me how many people seem to be allergic to clothes.

25 ways to improve your health. That one gets clicked on more that the rest.

Ticker snarky. Sounds like the name of a band.

Ticker cough. Sounds dreadful. Maybe you should go see a doctor.

"Am I in a coma." I swear someone not only Googled that, but followed it to my blog.

Cranky bastard. I guess I am not the only one plagued with one of those.

"I think I am allergic to clothes." Yeah, me too.

Persnickety. That gets Googled a lot. Then people come here. Yay! Traffic! Don't forget to leave a tip on your way out! (And by tip I mean check out the ads all over the sides of the blog. If only for the giggle factor at what they offer based on what I write.)

And the number one all time winner of the WTFness award...

"I think I have a boil on my ticker and what should I do." First of all, I don't even want to know what YOUR ticker is and how in the hell you have a boil on it. Second, I think you and the allergic to clothes people and the coma patient all need to get to a DOCTOR! STAT!

Proof that there are people in this world that are sicker than I am. In more ways than one.

Now I am just waiting on someone to Google "poop a condo." Cuz you just KNOW someone is going to...hehehe.

Well, at least she isn't swallowing quarters or swords or anything.

2009-05-30T21:51:00.002-04:00

I swear that the Tooth Fairy must have a summer home in my daughter's lower intestines. She swallowed her sixth lost tooth sometime today. I went looking for it about the house, but I am pretty sure she swallowed this one just like all the rest.

And there is NO WAY I am going after it.

I asked her doctor the first time she swallowed one if she would be OK. He said that they are small and she should be alright but to just make sure I check for her throwing up blood or pooping blood. Oh, and if I wanted to save the tooth for posterity then I would have to wait until it came out of her posterior and go treasure hunting for it. Um...no. Ewww.

I discovered the missing tooth when she came up to me this evening and asked for waffles for dinner. She had already had a couple earlier today, and I said, "Yeah, I guess so."

In Punk's mind, that meant, "Absolutely anything you want and please go make it yourself."

So I get up off the couch when I hear her rooting around in the freezer and then shut the door. By the time I got in there, she is up on the stool grinning at me and telling me that she made 3 waffles. Sure enough, there are waffles in the toaster. FOUR of them. I admonished her for making so many, and told her she was never going to eat that many (yeah right...this is Punk we are talking about...a pure carbivore, that one) as she was grinning proudly at me for doing it all by herself. I noticed the tooth was gone with that smile. I questioned her about what happened to the tooth and got 12 different versions of what MAY have happened. She has a vivid imagination.

I went back through the house looking to see if I could find the tooth, meanwhile my 5 year old had piled all the waffles on a plate and made a bee line back to the bedroom where she was currently engrossed in her latest favorite Disney movie.

She is growing up so fast.

By the time she is a teenager, she should be able to poop a condo made of teeth. If there really is a tooth fairy, I feel so sorry for her.

We interupt this blog to interject a brief belief (and a WUW)

2009-05-27T21:20:00.003-04:00

Rob Thomas, the singer/songwriter, wrote an article for Huffington Post today. I personally think it ROCKED OUT LOUD! He made several well thought out, articulate, and well expressed statements of his beliefs. While this article may raise some hackles of some readers, I think if most people thought along the same lines as he does, this world would be a much better place.

Just step away from the controversy and think about the concept of fighting for the underdog.

Here is an excerpt from the article if you don't want to read the whole thing that I thought was especially well written.

I believe that America is a great nation of even greater people. I also believe
that anyone who says that this is a "Christian nation" has RHS, or revisionist
history syndrome, and doesn't realize that most of our founding fathers were
either atheist or at least could see, even in the 1700s, that all through Europe
at the time, religion was the cause of so much persecution that they needed to
put into their brand new constitution a SEPARATION OF CHURCH AND STATE so that the ideals of a group of people could never be forced onto the whole. (I also
find it funny when people point out to me that it says "one nation under god" in
our pledge of allegiance, not realizing that this was an addition made in 1954
during the communism scare of the McCarthy era. It's not surprising, however,
knowing that these same people would punch me in the mouth if I called Jesus a
Jew.)

Thank you and we now return you to your regularly scheduled WUW (What's Up Wednesday?)

Because I am just like a brothel for germs.

2009-05-25T19:03:00.002-04:00

They just keep coming and coming and coming to party all over my body with plenty of extra lube (snot and phlegm) and they leave me all spent and exhausted in the morning because I haven't had any sleep.

Fuckers.

A friend of mine called to see how I was doing and when he heard I was sick again, his exact words were, "What? Again? Are you faking it? You have to be one of the sickest people I have met! And I mean that in the nicest possible way..."

On to other news...I think I sprained my eyeballs from rolling them at FCBSis this past week. So many issues there, that it would take a whole 'nother blog post to get it all out. I assure you when the viral orgy is done with my body I will elaborate.

One thing I did want to share, Punk can now read.

So knock me over with a feather and pick my ass up off the floor. When the hell did she learn that? I have been trying forever and no such luck. The school told me she never cooperates.

I am standing in the lobby of the hotel and there are three coffee urns (regular, bold and decaf) plus a smaller urn with hot water in it for tea. I make myself a cup of bold and standing next to me is Punk. She looks at the small urn and slowly says...."Hhh-hot wuh-wuh-water."

There were no pictures. Nothing to indicate that was what it said. She just sounded out the letters and BOOM!! My jaw hit the floor in disbelief. My 5 year old just read. I started doing a happy dance in the lobby. I was jumping up and down and congratulating her and she was looking at me the exact same way the rest of the lobby staff was.

LIKE I HAD JUST LOST MY EVERLOVING MIND.

Bah! I don't care! My kid can read!! Take that Einstein! Up yours Steven Hawking!

"So, what are we going to do tomorrow then, Punk?"

"Tomorrow, we shall take over the world."

What's Up Wednesday?

2009-05-20T11:00:00.000-04:00

So..if you came here yesterday, you know what's up with me. By the time you read this, I will be knee deep in and not give a damn that it is even Wed-Nes-Day.

So what's up with your Wednesday? Hmm? Come on! Share! I'm talking to you. Yeah you...the lurker over there in the corner that comes here for the giggles but doesn't even bother to share a word vert. Come on! Tell me how your life is going!

What The Farklenuts???

2009-05-20T08:47:00.002-04:00

I posted a post yesterday, but it seems like it didn't show up in anyones readers or bloglists.

It's finally happened.

Blogger is spanking my ass for my naughty non-posting behavior of late.

Maybe this will show up.

Look for WUW to post later today. I will be on the road hopefully heading away from all this dadblasted rain.

We're off to dump the parents. Who knew dead people could swim?

2009-05-20T05:01:00.000-04:00

Yep, that's right. Off to a little mini-vacation to dispose of the FCBMom and FCBDad. I am going to be stuck in a condo with FCB and FCBSis for 3 days. We are dumping the ashes in the ocean per request of the dead people. I guess they wanted to have a swimmingly good time in the afterlife.
The good news is there will be lots of this and this

and this.... And I get to spend some quality pool time with the Punk.

The bad news is...I will more than likely have to do all the cooking and cleaning and not get to watch what I want to watch on TV. Eh. Because did I mention?

So worth putting up with the FCB clan.

In trying to book this little mini vacation, FCB called the hotel directly to get the best rate. The guy on the phone, named Patrick, quoted him a price of $430+. Frustrated, FCB handed me the phone and said, "do what you do."

At least he has lived with me long enough to know that I can talk a man dying of thirst out of his last glass of water.

So I got on the phone and said, "Patrick, my good man, what can you do for me? We stayed there about a year ago and had an absolutely wonderful time. It was lovely. Coincidentally, while we were there, they had a little funeral service by the pool that was then moved down to the private beach where they scattered the remains. It was lovely. We are going to be there in your area disposing of 'Mom and Dad' and we want to stay there with you to make it all as pleasant a memory as possible. Now, when we stayed there, we just had the one deluxe room with kitchen, but as we are going to have more people with us this time, we need a little more space. What do you have?"

He then told me that they had a 2 bedroom or a 1 bedroom suite with a pull out couch. Thinking about our wallet and the fact that the FCBSis is cheap and more than likely not going to throw in, I asked about the 1 bedroom suite with the pull out. He quoted me a price.

"Patrick, (heavy sigh) I understand that you must charge a certain rate for each room. I get that. But we are GRIEVING. Are you aware of how much it costs to just BBQ a person now-a-days? Seriously. Give me a break here. When we were there last year, we only paid $160 a night. How close can you get me to that price? Preferably on the lower side of that price. Come on...make my day, here."

He then told me since prices are up from last year, the room we had last year would be $167 this year. He hemmed and hawed a bit and then said he could let me have the one bedroom with the pull out for that price.

To which I replied, "Patrick, I love you and I want to bear your children!"

He laughed and said that was really sweet of me, but that he batted for the other team.

So we got the room for cheap...well...cheaper than $400+ a night. That and I am so going to try to hunt down Patrick when I get there for some more laughs and good conversation. You can never have too many gay friends.

So, I am off to enjoy some of while escaping a whole bunch of hopefully.

Don't hate.

I am out of the coma!

2009-05-11T17:52:00.002-04:00

Not really in a coma. But I bet you did think that after I was all bloggy all over the place 2 weeks ago and non-existent last week. I have no excuse except life+DRAMA+exhaustion=Bad PERSNICKETY!

Plus I ran out of Captain Crunch.

I guess that was the fuel that fed the fire.

Come to think of it, that stuff probably is flammable, and more than likely highly addictive if smoked.

Someone let me know how that turns out, K?

So anyway. Best friend graduated from "college". I say "college" because she is now a massage therapist and going to be making an assload of money. She completed a full 9 months or something like that. I am proud of her! Super proud! "You are the wind beneath my wiiiiiiiiiiings."

She will laugh. Hell most of you might laugh. That typed out way way more sarcastic than it sounded in my head. I really am proud of her. She even managed to run away from home at the ripe old age of 33 to start her life all over again. All I can say about that is her balls are WAY bigger than mine. (But mine are hairier. thpppppthhhh! [that was a raspberry] I'll stop now.)

So at best friend's graduation the Redneck Joke with a Vagina (scroll down to the bottom of that link if you forget who that is) was also walking the stage even though she hadn't passed enough courses to actually get her degree in criminal justice. My friends and I were all standing in a group Friday afternoon before the ceremony outside of the theater. RJWAV comes bowling through the group and heads straight to me and tells me "Don't tell FCB or FCBSis this but FCBSis is not divorcing her husband, just bought him a truck today from the XXXX-Ford dealership and also went out and bought the lazy unemployed alcoholic a home/land package. She then looked at all of MY friends and says, "Hey y'all! Ain'tchoo excited 'bout graduatin'? I know I shore am! Good to see ya! How ya been?" (insert massive group cringe here based on her accent and demeanor)

They all looked at me like, "Who the fuck is that?"

No one knew her. These were the people in her graduating class and NO ONE knew her.

But me. I'm so special. (GAG-HORK-HOCK-SPEW)

I looked at her and said that I didn't care what FCBSis did with her life as long as she was happy. I also then told her I hoped she was prepared to vacate the FCBMom's house on time. She looked at me strangely and then her mother walked up to us. This woman had an even worse accent and less teeth. I couldn't understand a word she said. RJWAV then told her mother to "Stick wit her and she'll watch out for ya. Oh and can ya take a picture of me and my momma and then print it out an give it ter me?"

I took one. And then I deleted it before the ceremony even started. I found a seat and was trying to figure out how to save seats for people coming later when RJWAV's Mom found me. I thought I had done a great job of shaking her like the piece of clinging toilet paper that you finally manage to get off of the bottom of your shoe. I guess I am not as good as I think I am. She tried to sit next to me and I told her it would be great if she could sit about 5 seats down so we could save the seats in between. She did. That eliminated the small talk.

I am not as stupid as people perceive me to be. I would go so far as to say cunning. Yeah. Cunning. (No cracks from the peanut gallery on that one.)

I will skim over most of the details because this post is getting long enough and I am not even half done with my weekend and my buzzer just went off for my lasagna. But on Saturday phone calls were made, RJWAV got caught in a bunch of backstabbing and underhanded lies, and FCBSis and I were tight like buds. Thus, the Redneck Joke wit a Vagina was evicted from the FCBMom's house. Voted off the island as it were. Since none of us liked her anyway, and she wasn't doing anything she was supposed to be doing like cooking and cleaning and being the home helper she was hired for. Instead she was eating and drinking and laying around on her ass and using up all the cell phone minutes and asking anyone who would listen when we thought we were going to get our money from FCBMom dying. Ding Dong, the Evil Bitch is gone.

So my Mother's Day was eventful. I went over to my Older Sister's house for lunch with her and my mother. It was pleasant. My mother seemed to have checked the crazy at the door, and the only argument I had with her was the fact that I started my period at 12 not 13 like she insisted. I stopped her cold in her tracks with a comment about it being MY body and I think I remember when "The CURSE" started. After the lunch, at the insistence of the Punk, we went over to my Older Sister's Mother in Law's house. She has a pool and a piano and is coolest person my daughter knows because of those things. On the way out of the driveway of my OS's house, she backed into my front license plate on my van when she put her van out of park and it rolled. No biggie. Just a plate. Can be replaced. Matter of fact OS and I are supposed to be taking a trip to EPCOT on Friday for a little "Mom's day out" and to take pictures for my sister to sell. She is really talented at the photography and the Flower and Garden Festival is going on at EPCOT right now. We can swing over to the Magic Kingdom and get a new plate.

One the way to OSMIL's house, we'll call her Grandmama, because, hey...that's what they all call her, we almost got in a very smashy-bad accident when a redneck in a truck decided to slam on his brakes in the middle of the highway because he thought he MIGHT have missed his dirt road. My sister slammed on her brakes. The Cadillac Escalade behind me slammed on their brakes. End the end, the Cadillac was less than a foot away from my sister's van and I was in the ditch on the side of the road. Cause I am all BOOYAH! with the evasive maneuvering with my van that way! No one was crushed, crunched or harmed and I got a lovely scenic trip into some weeds and shit. Yay.

Got to Grandmama's house and started with all the small talk and the chitchat and then the fact that Sister and I were going to EPCOT got brought up. You would have thought I had told these people that I was kidnapping her to go out whoring and crack smoking for the day. Comments were made about how I never kept a schedule in my life and more comments were made about women should be at home with their children. I kept trying to fight, OS kept kicking me under the table to let it go. The family was under the impression that we were going to DISNEY for A WHOLE DAY AND NIGHT WITH OUT OUR CHILDREN OR AT LEAST THE BABY! How dare we! Who are we to think we are deserving of a day at an adult oriented theme park with out our children or spouses? OY VEY!

I left shortly there after. My parting gift was a lottery ticket from Grandmama. I guess it was a peace offering. I won $3. Gas money. Woot.

So my life just happened to be chock full of drama and I had to share because I care. Drama just keeps happening to me like a busload of nuns careening through Vegas. Shit happens. Habits fly. I just can't help who I am an what I believe and I am set in my ways when it comes to DON'T FUCK WITH MY FAMILY.

RJWAV learned that lesson the hard way. I am still up in the air about continuing the debate with Grandmama. At least my Mom took her sanity vitamins for Mother's Day. That made it mostly a great day. Lots of stuff going on. I am writing it down old school in note book to one day post here.

Now I am off to eat my lasagna and have a nice big glass of cold milk to go with it. Then I am going to sleep. I slept almost all day today because I guess drama and stress tire me out. I need to get caught up on my sleep so I have the energy to drag my sister off to EPCOT so we can go get jiggy with a overstuffed, furry character or two and maybe smoke some Captain Crunch.

Memories...like the cobwebs of my mind...

2009-05-01T10:17:00.002-04:00

As I was reaching for my box of Captain Crunch cereal this morning (anyone else notice the theme this week?) and I was flooded with a memory of when I was little and we would go over to my grandfather's house for overnight visits when my mom needed a break from us. He used to have a high cabinet stocked full of "old folks" cereal. I would have to get a chair and climb up to go through it to see what I could choke down for breakfast. I would wade through the boxes of Shredded Wheat and Grape Nuts and Cracklin' Oat Bran and with great disappointment relay the choices to my Older Sister. Then much to my surprise, tucked in the back would be a box of Rice Crispies. I would gleefully hand it down to Older Sister and we would get bowls and spoons out and then pour out the cereal before we dumped spoonfuls of sugar over the Rice Crispies. We knew Peepaw (that's what we called our grandpa) didn't eat that kind of cereal. That was why it was tucked in the back. Sitting there waiting on us to discover it like a treasure amongst the FIBER.

That was a great memory.

As I was brewing my Ghirardelli Chocolate Hazelnut coffee this morning, I ate my Captain Crunch and I thought, what a great blog post this would make. (The coffee is yum-nummy by the way. I used International Delights Chocolate Caramel creamer in it and it made it THAT MUCH BETTER!! Don't hate.) So I started to think of what other little tidbits of memory that I could share with you that wouldn't bore you to tears. Turns out, nothing much came to mind.

Not because my life is boring, but because after dying 8 times in my life, my memories are spotty and random. Some days, it's like a movie playing in my head and others, I can't remember what I did last week. I just chalk it up to the fact that having to do the whole "life flashing before your eyes" 8 times has worn the tape out a little and I have to rely on my friends and family to be the splice that holds me together.

Case in point, Feisty. She is my back-up disk as it were. She told me the other day that we went Trick or Treating in my neighborhood when I was in the 10th grade. I had no memory of it. I pestered her yesterday to tell me more about it. She gave me a vague account of it with highlights of what she recalled clearly. I have to admit that after finding her again a few years ago via Myspace, my life has been enriched. She carries with her so much of who I was and memories of me that are long gone from my Swiss cheese brain. We were best friends in 9th, 10th, 11th and 12th grades. I was there for the birth of her first son. I wish I could have been there for the others. But due to circumstances of spiteful dishonest people and the military, we didn't get to share our 20's together.

But thanks to the wonders of the Internet she is back in my life. She is expecting her last child (fingers crossed there on that one since this one wasn't expected just like the other three, but is a blessing all the same because it will be what helps keep my own biological clock from jumping out of my uterus and beating me to bits) and I am so grateful to be in her life for that. She and Older Sister have so many great memories of me to pass on to my daughter when she gets older. And hopefully, some record of this blog will be around so she can benefit from the memories I am making from writing it.

OK. Enough of the mushiness. I am getting my Captain Crunch and chocolate coffee all soggy with sentimentality.

So what is your favorite cereal? Or memory? Or friend story?

Inquiring minds want to know.

Curiouser and Curiouser or Eat Me.

2009-04-30T12:47:00.002-04:00

Ever get that persistent nagging sensation to TORTURE AND STAB A FAT, DUMB, CRANKY-ASSED, STUPID MUTHER-FUCKIN' BASTARD with grilling utensils?

No?

Just me then?

Well alrighty.

Ever have one of those days where you just want to curl up on that mushroom with the Caterpillar from Alice In Wonderland and totally bogart off of his hookah and ignore the rest of the world?

No?

Just me then?

Well alrighty.

Random What's Up Wednesday.

2009-04-29T10:20:00.000-04:00

So here is a little random to go with your Wednesday Wheaties. Or Lucky Charms. Or Fruity Pebbles. Or Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Or Cheerios.

There is a guy named Tom Kruse that invented the Hoveround. A mobility assistance device for the physically impaired.

There is so much irony and ridicule waiting to be had in that statement that I am just going to leave it at that.

There is a commercial for a chiropractor here in my city and his name is Dr. Noback.

My daughter walked by a FedEx truck the other day that was loudly blasting country music and said, "Mommy, I really like that crunchy music!"

I was reading the great EPCOT cake comment tragedy this morning right before I posted this, when from the other room I heard odd squealing noises that sounded like a stuck pig or a teenage girl at a Jonas Brothers concert. Since I don't own a pig and The Brothers Jonas are forboden in my house, I jumped up to see what the fuss was all about. It turned out to be FCB looking at his stock ticker and doing a happy dance in his chair because he was making some money back from the slump that occurred yesterday.

Simple things get him going I guess.

Watching the news and the HYPE that is going on with the swine flu, I learned that there has been a fatality in TX. A toddler. And my heart just broke all over again. I have been following the story and the devastation that this flu is causing is just heart wrenching. I couldn't imagine losing my child. I am actually thinking about yanking Punk from school. Not only because I don't want to be exposed to this AGAIN (yes, I think I had this thing. Every symptom they are saying this thing comes with I had in excess for the last 3 weeks. I just didn't get my but to the doctor because I knew I would be hospitalized if I did and I didn't want to be. But I am on the mend, for now, and don't want to get sick again with anything else.) but because I really don't want my child to ever have to suffer anything like what people are experiencing around the world. We were both very sick with this last bout, and I don't want either one of us to go through it again.

So that is mostly what is up with my Wednesday. How about you guys? What's new with you? Give me a shout out and let me know who is still hanging in there with me.

Oh and have a great What's Up Wednesday!

Snarkivore

2009-04-28T10:02:00.006-04:00

Yep, that's me. I eat snark for breakfast like some people eat Wheaties. Well, not Wheaties...because, lets be honest here, when presented with the choices, most of us are scarfing down a bowl of Fruit Loops, Lucky Charms or Captain Crunch. You know you do.

Don't lie.

Anyway. I need people to regularly feed my snark. Since I have been all absent from life as we know it and contagious to boot, my funny has been all starving to death from lack of regular doses of snark to snack on.

Oh there are those that recognize the bitchiness that randomly happens to me and flood my inbox with toons and jokes, but only because that can be sent electronically and they don't actually have to be present for me to chew their heads off. (I will say that since I don't get regular periods--I know, over sharing, but stick with me--I rely on other women to allow me to sync up with their normal cycle of PMS. It gives me the excuse when someone asked what crawled up my ass and died to tell them that Feisty, Meuse, Older Sister and *I* are having our monthly. Cuz we had actually all synced up to withing a week. Now Feisty is preggo, Meuse is moving out of town and OS is still wonky from the new baby. I am so confused I am just randomly mean every other day and have been gnawing on FCB's last nerve for a about a week now.)

I think I just need a little action. Anyone got a spare pool boy in a thong or a shirtless gardener they can throw my way? It would help loads. Kthnx.

So without further ado, I will share some shared funny with you. The first is a cartoon by Brian Crane. It came with the title "Pickles" and Feisty sent it to me. I giggled endlessly because it describes me to a T. I am both persnickety and scurrilous. (Click to make it larger if you are blind like me.)

The second was sent by Meuse. Just one of those emails FWDs that everyone usually deletes, but it made me laugh til I shot coffee out my nose, but more importantly, made me want to blog it all immediately. I am just a giver that way. Enjoy.

THE SPOILED UNDER-30 CROWD!!!

When I was a kid, adults used to bore me to tears with their tedious diatribes about how hard things were when they were growing up; what with walking twenty-five miles to school every morning....Uphill...barefoot...BOTH ways!! Yadda, yadda, yadda...
And I remember promising myself that when I grew up,there was no way in hell I was going to lay a bunch of crap like that on kids about how hard I had it and how easy they've got it!
But...now that I'm over the ripe old age of thirty...I can't help but look around and notice the youth of today. You've got it so easy! I mean, compared to my childhood, you live in a damn Utopia!
And I hate to say it, but you kids today, you don't know how good you've got it! I mean, when I was a kid we didn't have The Internet. If we wanted to know something, we had to go to the damn library and look it up ourselves! In the card catalogue!! There was no email!! We had to actually write somebody a letter, with a pen! Then you had to walk all the way across the street and put it in the mailbox and it would take like a week to get there! Stamps were 10 cents!
Child Protective Services didn't care if our parents spanked us. As a matter of fact, the parents of all my friends also had permission! No where was safe!
There were no MP3' s or Napsters! You wanted to steal music, you had to hitchhike to the record store and shoplift it yourself! Or you had to wait around all day to tape it off the radio and the DJ'd usually talk over the beginning and @#*% it all up! There were no CD players! We had tape decks in our car. We'd play our favorite tape and "eject" it when finished and the tape would come undone.
Cause that's how we rolled dig?
We didn't have fancy crap like Call Waiting! If you were on the phone and somebody else called they got a busy signal. That's it! And we didn't have fancy Caller ID either! When the phone rang, you had no idea who it was! It could be your mom, your school, your boss, your bookie, a collections agent, you just didn't know!!! You had to pick it up and take your chances, Mister!
We didn't have any fancy Sony Playstation video games with high-resolution 3-D graphics! We had the Atari 2600! With games like 'Space Invaders' and 'Asteroids'. Your guy was a little square! You actually had to use your imagination!! And there were no multiple levels or screens, it was just one screen...FOREVER! And you could never win. The game just kept getting harder and harder and faster and faster until you died! Just like LIFE!
You had to use a little book called a TV Guide to find out what was on! You were screwed when it came to channel surfing! You had to get up and walk over to the TV to change the channel! There was no Cartoon Network either! You could only get cartoons on Saturday Morning. Do you hear what I'm saying!? We had to wait ALL WEEK for cartoons!
And we didn't have microwaves. If we wanted to heat something up we had to use the stove. Imagine that!
That's exactly what I'm talking about! You kids today have got it too easy. You're spoiled. You guys wouldn't have lasted five minutes back in 1980 or before!
Regards,The over 30 Crowd

Rumors of my deadness have been greatly exaggerated.

2009-04-27T10:44:00.009-04:00

While my perfect dream would be to croak right there in Disney, I actually got back home alive and well.

And then slept for 3 days.

I kid you not, this trip knocked me on my ass. Which is kind of confuzzeling, since I was sporting a fart cart the entire time and we never made it to a park before noon and left about 8pm every night.

I chalk it up to the respiratory nightmare I have been suffering through for the last few weeks and the subsequent hangover it left me with. I have been putting some serious grooves in my couch with my butt surfing lately.

So we left last Saturday, got back on Tuesday night and I slept until Friday where I groaned, moaned and creaked my way into an upright position so I could start baking the cake for my niece's party on Saturday. She is one lucky little girl...she had a party on her real birthday while we were in Orlando, and then another this past weekend so the rest of the family could come chow down and present her with more gifts. She absolutely believes that this is going to be a regular weekend occurrence. Birthdays and presents every weekend. Every 5 year old's dream.

So here is the picture of the cake that was described to me in great detail about how and what it should be made out of. Strawberry cake. Strawberry frosting. Pink Mickey Mouse wizard hat. Ears and all. Gotcha kiddo. No problems. Here ya go.

It was all that she asked for. The ears are made of rice crispy treats dipped in chocolate. I baked and frosted. Older Sister helped spackle the cakey leftover bits so that it made a bigger hat versus shaving the sides to make it a triangle. Next time I think we will shave. Less lumpy.

Oldest Niece helped with the strawberry marshmallow fondant. I had to pay her with scraps. She wasn't complaining. The stars and moon are regular marshmallow fondant. All in all a very tasty cake. That is, if you are REALLY into strawberry.

Older Sister asked me to hack into it. She said I baked it, I should cut it.

And that is how you hack into a 7 layer cake.

So now I am upright and breathing and it is a Monday. I have packing and boxing to do. We are either moving in a few weeks or a few months. Who knows. We are however going to have to do a lot of overhauling to FCBMom's house. The walls are currently urine yellow. Ewww. I was thinking of going with a sage and plum color scheme. FCB was thinking of going with a creme and beige. Everything that man does is shades of beige. He is a thrill seeker that way.

I did see a room that was done in turquoise, brown, silver and creme that looked nice though. It is going to take a complete miracle to convince the old fart to go with a color scheme that won't put a Red Bull addict in a coma.

He actually told me he was expecting on me cleaning the whole house amidst all this moving. I told him, "Keep dreaming, Dickens!"

He didn't get it.

After dumbing it down to him and explaining the connection that he had 'Great Expectations' thus the Dickens reference, he still didn't think it was funny. He thought I had come up with a new swear word for him.

Guess he is tired of Fucktard of the Universe.

Oh well. So that is what has been going on here. Sorry for the lack of posting lately. No internet this last trip to Orlando and then with the whole couch coma thing, I have been a very bad blogger.

Never fear, I have been collecting pictures and quips and anecdotes and snark and have been bloggin it 'old school' in a notebook with a pen. I just need to type it out for my dedicated readers (hopefully there are still a few peeps out there that haven't given up on me) and try not to pack up my funny in one of these boxes.

Feel free to oooh and aaaah over the cake. I did. Quite impressed myself with that one actually. I have put out some cool cakes in my time but that one really rocked. And just to prove it....

I think that last one rocks. See? Even Older Sister is happy there in the background!

I have more cakey goodness but I can't find it on the laptop, so there is what I could come up with. I am no Ace of Cakes, but I manage to impress little girls and family members. That's good enough for me.

And she's off!

2009-04-18T07:16:00.003-04:00

Back to Disney. Again. With the whole family. Let's hope all goes well this time as we celebrate my 5 year old niece "The Princess Bob"'s birthday.

As of 7am when the family bus was supposed to pick me up, I was on the phone with my sister who had just cracked open an eye. I could hear a bear growling in the background. OOOH GOODY! I get to poke the bear. Poke. Poke-poke.

So far off to a blog worthy start.

Against better judgement of the FCB (who I think is just jealous that he can't go) I am headed out for the weekend. My reasoning is twofold. To get away from him while he has this miserable cold because he is just one Fat Cranky Bastard. And because there is an offer for me to go to Disney with free transportation and lodging and all I had to provide was a couple of meals. Done and done. No twisting of the arm needed.

I especially love going with my nieces. They provide me with endless giggles and occasional blog fodder.

And what I get to come back to? A confrontation with the school because I got a call yesterday that she had been kicked off of bus service because she missed this week at school. I wasn't about to send her while she was sick because they tend to send her right back to me, but on top of that the bus driver got pissy because they had to *gasp* pass my house every day and that messed with their schedule. WTF??? The have to pass us anyway to go get the other kid on the street and WHEN the Punk goes to school they have to stop to get her!?! What inconvenience?

I will be so glad when we move and she can start going to a NORMAL HUMAN SCHOOL.

Cuz I swear this one is run by either aliens or lower life forms in human clothing.

Hope everyone enjoys their weekend!

I'll be thinking of you ask I bask in the glow of a gaggle of little girls and cranky bear of a BIL all from the comfort of my fart cart.

Everybody now! M-I-C-K-E-Y-M-O-U-S-E!

What's Up (every other) Wednesday!

2009-04-15T07:00:00.002-04:00

Going to try out this whole post-posting thing. If it works, I might be more regular with my WUW. Think of it as fiber-licious! (Get it? Fiber? Regular? Hello? Why do I hear crickets?)

So what's up Wednesday? How's everyone doing? What's new in your lives? Comment away!!*

*As in let me know you guys are still around...I know it has been quiet here, but I promise to do better. I have enough collected fodder for at least a dozen posts. Like you wouldn't BELIEVE what Bondage Barbie has been up to! And "How to Tye-die your Easter eggs to win friends and influence people!"

Even if you have nothing to say, post the word vert to give us all a giggle. Please? Pretty Please? (Me begging is not a pretty site. I am going to need a forklift to get the hell off my knees. And no dirty comments there about me being on my knees, Peanut Gallery.)

Cough-hack-cough

2009-04-14T13:41:00.003-04:00

Still here and on day six of a low grade fever.

I fear I am going to have to do the one thing I have been dreading....

See.A.Doctor.

I tend to avoid them because they like to imprison me in large institutions where they force you to eat crap, poke at you relentlessly, drain you of blood, shoot you up with random medication that makes you feel all woogie and generally take sport in seeing how many times they can wake you through the night. I honestly think there is a nightly betting pool amongst the staff.

Evil bastards.

I thought I was on the mend. I actually felt mostly decent on Easter. Only a temp of about 99 and limited coughing with hardly any snot.

And then...I spent the entire night and morning laying on my couch waiting for sleep that never came and listening to the storm outside. When I did finally doze off at 5:30, I awoke at 7am feeling as though I was drowning in a sea of congestion.

I had bronchitis once. It was just a little cough. And when I went to the doctor for a little medication, he threw me in a hospital for a month because I not only had bronchitis, but pneumonia as well.

This feels the same.

I am determined to self medicate in a stubborn bout to return to Disney to help my niece celebrate her birthday.

What can I say? I am either a die hard fan or have finally lost my mind due to fever.

Oh, nice little tidbit of information that was passed along to me yesterday from the FCB. It seems that TWO! count 'em TWO! different church members called FCBSis 3 days after the funeral to tell her that I was playing video games in my purse in church, as well as picking at my feet and yawning throughout the entire FUNERAL.

I immediately called FCBSis to explain what actually happened. I was actually looking at pictures on my digital camera of FCBMom. Just flipping through, remembering. During the REGULAR SERVICE. I also adjusted my shoe. DURING THE REGULAR SERVICE. My feet hurt from all of the standing. There was a lot of standing. I was wearing the wrong shoes for all the standing. FCBSis only stood up about half the time. We all have various medical issues which make standing a lot, difficult.

And the yawning?

Bad heart=bad circulation. That means that my heart doesn't pump strong enough to get a good blood supply going through my body. I always yawn. A.LOT. It's called lack of oxygen. I actually got a good look at my self in one of the ornamental mirrors in the church after the service but before the funeral. I was pale. Sheet white actually. And my lips were a lovely shade of blue. This happens often. People actually freak a little when they see me turn blue. Family is used to it, but it makes for an interesting party trick.

FCBSis said she understood and wasn't judging. The entire congregation is a bunch of gossipy busybodies anyway. I wanted to clarify that I wasn't disrespecting her mother.

I am not a church person.

Those people were lucky it didn't start hailing frogs just from me setting foot in their church.

The church that FCBMom contributed over $75,000 in the last 10 years.

By the end of the service the entire family was scoping out the place to see what we could get away with walking out of the door with. After all...we paid for most of it. I would have taken the damn ornamental mirror off the wall, but it was probably too heavy anyway.

So we are still sorting out the FCBMom stuff and it looks like we are going to get her house in the end. Which means I am moving in a few months. Joy.

The good thing in all this is my Punk gets to go to a really great school that is one block away from where we will be living.

Oh and I inherited the FCBMom/Dad's Jazzy mobility chair. That alone is going to save me $65 a pop ever time I go to Disney because I will no longer have to rent a fart cart.

So that is the situation going on here. Punk has the sickies too, but doesn't seem nearly as miserable as me. She refuses to take ANY medication and is just as happy and energetic as usual. I am medicated to the hilt and still can't breathe. Sucks.

So dear readers...if there is anyone still left out there...what is up with y'all? I know I am a day early for What's Up Wednesday, but lets be honest...I am not as regular about that as I should be. I just figured I needed to post something before people started asking where MY funeral was going to be held.

Alive...barely.

2009-04-09T15:21:00.004-04:00

Just in case y'all were wondering.

Funeral on Sunday. (I took notes)

Baptism of a niece on Sunday. (Torturous meanness from my mother and an asthma attack that is still happening from smokers both at the funeral and the baptism.)

A week of not being able to breathe laced with a migraine that could bring that burliest of manly men to their knees. Add a dash (oh who am I kidding, my toilet and I are now on INTIMATE terms) of vomiting and light and noise sensitivity and you have me! The life of the party I assure you.

So fear not faithful readers. I will be back.

I just need to get over this pesky heart failure crap WITHOUT an inpatient hospital stay.

Cuz hospital food sucks.

Oh, and in case anyone was curious...it took a lot of drugs and a pair of dark sunglasses just for me to be able to be upright long enough to type this out.

So I will leave you with a little funny that happened on my recent trip to Disney.

We were in the boat at Small World when a little boy of some foreign origin (they weren't speaking English) really, really had to pee. The dad lifted him over to the side of the boat and the little boy did his best fountain impersonation. For a little squirt he had a good arc and did a damn good job of not getting any in the boat. I guess where they were from, any port in storm would do. Water is water right?

Yet another reason why you should keep your hands inside the boat at all times.

Yeah, I'm just fat and lazy that way...

2009-04-02T10:20:00.005-04:00

While waiting in line for the Dumbo ride last night with my daughter, a woman with two small little girls (that were dressed to the nines in the whole princess get ups that cost $250+ at the Bibbidi-Bobbity-Boutique) told her daughters that I was fat and lazy.

Let me just clarify that situation a little shall I?

I was waiting in line sitting on my EVC (Electric Convenience Vehicle) and I was waiting behind a mother in an electric wheelchair who very obviously had Parkinson's or MS or something else that made her shaky and debilitated. The ride operators were very courteous to us and tried to make sure we were taken care of with respect and care and to make sure our ECV and wheelchair would be waiting for us when we got off. They of course let us on the ride before the throng of people waiting to make sure we didn't have any problems with people rushing us or knocking us over.

The little girls, seeing that we were being allowed on ahead of them, asked their mother why we got to get on first. The mom told her daughter's that the first lady (she was working on getting into a Dumbo right in front of us) was sick and needed help to get on the ride. Then she pointed at me, sitting on my ECV right in front of them, and told them that the only reason I got to go on first was because I was cheating and just too fat and lazy to walk and stand in line like everyone else.

I realize she was probably (in her mind) trying to teach her daughters some sort of lesson on health and nutrition and exercise...while failing miserably at teaching them a lesson in human dignity.

Well the woman on the Dumbo heard the whole remark and spoke up in my defense. She told the lady that just because her disability was visible and apparent, it didn't mean that they could see mine. Some people are disabled with out any outward signs. That there was obviously a reason I was using the cart and more than likely wished that I was healthy enough to not have to use it.

I could have hugged her right there.

I started bawling like a baby. (In my defense it had been building all day with the sadness from FCBMom and the frustration at using the fart cart and the meanness that comes so easily to some people in this world.)

I got on the ride. Sucked up the tears so that Punk didn't have to watch me cry, and enjoyed the ride.

Me and Punky and the Wheelchair Lady and her daughter then all sat and watched the fireworks. We didn't say anything to each other.

But I know she knew how absolutely grateful I was for her random act of "Shut the fuck up, bitch!"

It's over.

2009-04-01T09:25:00.002-04:00

FCBMom has passed. It happened shortly before 7am this morning. I know she was just waiting to go home to die. She didn't want to be in a home or a hospital. The last time I saw her on Thursday she was sitting up in bed and smiling and remembered my name. That was the last time my daughter saw her. She was more like normal Grandma then than at any other time in the last couple of months. It was the last rally before she went to be with her husband in the ever after.

Yesterday morning, looking down out of the window of the hotel room (we are in Orlando on spring break Disney trip), Punk said, "Look Mommy, there's Grandma down there!"

I asked her if Grandma was waving at her.

"No Mommy, she is going away."

This morning I got a phone call at 6:50am. It was FCB calling to tell me it just happened.

Punk jumped out of bed and went to the window of our hotel (a different one than the night before which is a long story for another post), looked down and said, "Ooh look Mommy! There are footprints!"

I asked her if she saw Grandma.

"No Mommy, the footprints are Grandma's and Grandpa's and they are going away."

She never met her grandfather. He died a couple of weeks after I found out I was pregnant.

Somehow I don't think I am going to have to explain to her what happened to Grandma.

I think she just already 'gets' it.

I am glad I was able to give the woman 5 years of happiness with her only granddaughter.

R.I.P. Adrienne. You are finally without pain, and reunited with your Love. You are home.

Family Giggles

2009-03-29T13:52:00.002-04:00

I was hanging with my Older Sister and my Adorable Nieces yesterday. It was a very nice and relaxing day. I love that my sister has enough children to keep my biological clock from going full out alarm. I get to play with little ones, and cuddle the baby, and giggle with the older kids that think I am the FUNNIEST PERSON EVAR!!! And then I get to go home once all six kids start getting cranky.

We were all sitting around in the living room yesterday, I had the 3 year old in my lap and she was telling me what sounds all the animals make. I was pointing to the animals on a puzzle and she would make the sounds. When I got to the horse, the 4 year old piped in with a full blown whinny from over to my left. She even included the prancing pawing at the ground with her "hoof". Too cute! Then the 3 year old told me that a chicken says "BOK". I pointed to the rooster and she told me that the rooster says..."BOK-A-DOO!"

I was in tears from laughing so hard.

Older Sister pulled out some photo albums and we got to looking at ~~embarrassing 80's snapshots complete with firecracker bangs~~ treasured family photos. I was flipping through her wedding album and waxing nostalgic about how I had such nice cleavage before it got all scarred up from the surgeries. Then I noticed IT.

IT was glaring back at me from those perfect wedding photos. Something I may not have noticed at the time, probably because it was fashionable then, but now? So going to use it against the BIL for tease factor...EVERY CHANCE I GET!

IT=MULLET.

Not even kidding. He had it in a ponytail for the wedding, but BIL was sporting a full on-Achy Breaky-MULLET! I laughed til I peed a little. He is never going to live that down with me. HA!

I told her that most of those people in the pics were all on Facebook. Hell I was even friends with a few of them. She then did what any curious person would.

SHE GOT SUCKED INTO THE TIME-WASTING VORTEX THAT IS FACEBOOK and was late getting dinner for the family. I don't blame her. I blame Crackbook. That shit is just waaaaay too addictive. Evol, evol Crackbook. Oooh look! Someone else just friended me! Wait...what was I saying?

Oh yeah. So anyway. Lots of family giggles were had. It was a nice break from the depression that is happening on the other side of the family.

Quick update: FCBMom is home and was doing well for a couple of days, but slid downhill last night. Running a fever as of 2am (Thanks for the call FCBSis, it wasn't like any of us were sleeping or anything!) and the hospice people have declared she is now in kidney failure. She is getting plenty of Morphine and is home and resting as comfortably as possible for now.

I am heading out for another Disney trip tomorrow. Going to spend the whole week at Disney with just me and my Punk. Nice relaxing days doing nothing but riding Peter Pan and the Donald Duck ride. No rushing, no BIL, no schedule and no pressure to do anything but have a great time and make great memories with my daughter.

Hope everyone has a great week!!

Because my sister and I are in such desperate need of an adult conversation...

2009-03-27T13:57:00.003-04:00

We spent hours on the phone with each other.

Talk about a chick who feeds my snark.

I think I am more of a comedienne with her than with anyone else.

We talked about everything from Barbra Walters' vibrator to the economy to legalizing to snotty kids to *"The Redneck Joke with a Vagina" to the **Circling Money Buzzards that are waiting for FCBMom to retire to the dirt farm to the crabby penis people that currently are "enhancing our lives one 'OHFORTHELOVEOFFUCKQUITBITCHINGATME!!' moment at a time" to the fact that I have been overextending myself with caring for a woman that isn't related to me in any way.

Oh. And we talked about American Idol, too. She LIKES Adam. The creepy "Ring of Fire" singing, Elvis/Zac Effron impersonating contestant that makes my sphincter whimper and curl up in a ball to suck its imaginary thumb. He creeps me. Oh and in case I didn't mention it, I think he is really, really CREEPY. Like Michael Jackson on a bad day in court, creepy. Um-yeah.

I was supposed to go over to Older Sister's house today to visit and lend a helping hand with whatever she needed help with and to unleash the Punk on The Cousins. The best laid plans. Um-yeah.

So I was woken up this morning with a slightly girlish, alarming scream of disgustedness from FCB. Punk had an accident. I needed to wake up and tend to it all. OK, OK. I get that I am the Mom and things have to be done in only the way a Mom can do them, but Jesus-H.-Jumped-Up-Christ-On-A-Waffle-Iron!?! Did you have to wake me by screaming at me? I mean...I didn't need this old heart anyway. It was just taking up space in my chest cavity. Not like I needed that finicky bitch to keep beating, anyway. Scare the fuck out of me and see how cheerful I am for the day, why dontcha. Um-Yeah.

So now my plans for the day are all discombobulated. Monkey wrench--Life? Have you two met? Um-yeah.

So now my plans are to clean my van before my weekly mecca to Disney for the Punk's spring break. Clean my house. Make love to my coffee maker one pot at a time because that bad boy is keeping me conscious and out of jail for wanting to strangle the crap out of the residents of FCBSister's house. Visit the FCBMom who finally went home from the hospital while avoiding the cops that are surely going to arrive at the FCBSister/FCBMom's house because said residents are drunk at 2 in the afternoon because the jobless/drunk sacks of mooch have nothing better do but suck the teet of greediness and drain the FCBSis dry. All the while they are fighting like it's wrestling smackdown time and they got nothing better to do.

So.

The good news is: I can breathe again. The asthma attack finally subsided on Thursday.

The bad news is: I have to call my mom and see if she is willing to drive across town to wash and cut FCBMom's hair. My Mom has no filter from her brain to her mouth. (Gee, I wonder where I got that from?) One step into this house full of drunk rednecks and she is going to tell it like it is.

I should sell tickets.

Or at least film it to post on YouTube.

This should be interesting. Or at the least entertaining.

So that is just some random that is going on with me. I have to get off of the computer now and join the real world for a bit. Wish me luck. Oh, and say a prayer for my coffee maker. He's gonna need it.

*Redneck Joke with a Vagina(RJWAV) is the "home helper" that FCBSis has brought into her house to help out with the care taking of FCBSis and FCBMom. The woman has no job, is finishing school for an "exciting career in criminal justice", and just got turned down for food stamps that she blew off a job interview for to go get. Think of every redneck joke you have ever heard, remove all the teeth, and add a vagina and there you have this woman. I could write volumes on this "person" (and I used that term loosely...just like she is...) but I will save that for another post.

**Circling Money Buzzards are the RJWAV and the FCBSister's Husband. Neither have a job. Both are anxiously waiting on FCBMom to die because they both thing they are going to hit lottery payday when it happens. The Drunk Husband even tried selling us all his MIL's furniture and possessions last night. Just like they were his to sell. He wanted $1000 for an old couch from the 1960's. I restrained myself from wetting my pants with laughter. He thinks that there is some secret stash of cash and it will be all his the day his MIL passes. The RJWAV thinks she is going to get her cut. They are complete jokes and knuckle dragging occupants of Darwin's waiting room. They hate each other, yet live in the same house. The cops have been called out numerous times because they get all hopped up on Mad Dog 20/20 and start going at each other. FCBSis is beside herself. She doesn't want conflict in front of her Mom and she has asked her brother, the FCB(Fat Cranky Bastard if you are new here), to be the muscle/body guard/security because her 90 pound husband is actually terrified of his 400+ pound crankiness.

Does anyone else hear that faint "Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!" chanting in the background? It's just me? Um-yeah.

What's Up Wednesday

2009-03-25T13:46:00.002-04:00

Howdy folks!! How is your day, week, or month going? Let's take a brief glimpse into mine with a little arts and crafts project, shall we?

First: Grab the nearest roll of duct tape. (Come on, you all know you have a roll there right next to the computer chair...it's what's holding the damn chair together.)

Next: Grab one of those little coffee swizzles. You know, those tiny little straws that they give you at the drive-thru to stir your coffee with? (Yeah right, like the motion of mosquito dick making a swirly in your cup is really going to help mix all that extra sugar into dissolving.)

Still with me? Good.

Third: Place coffee swizzle in your mouth, and duct tape your mouth and nose completely closed around the swizzle.

Finally: Breathe.

Welcome to my world.

I have been having an asthma attack since Sunday. This is generally how my yearly bout with congestive heart failure starts. Hopefully, I can avoid a two week vacation at the hospital. Not that I don't enjoy the rest, but the food sucks buckets.

How is your week? Having a good Wed-nes-day? Chime in and give me an update!

***Update on the grandmother of my child, who is not actually my mother-in-law, but the mother of my baby's daddy. (Just to clarify.) She was rushed to the ER on Monday night where we all held vigil until 2am. Massive bleeding from the hind quarters. They have been giving blood, but have yet to actually TREAT the problem because some dumb intern seems to think DNR means DON'T TREAT. We are about to head over there now to dine on the innards of the medical type people. That is of course after we rip them new ones.

Conversations from the car.

2009-03-20T18:23:00.003-04:00

On our way home from the nursing home that FCBMom is currently in, we had the following discussion. It was too cute not to share.

Punk (from the backseat): "Dad? Can we go get a movie?"

FCB: "What is she talking about?"

Me: "There is a Blockbuster over there, remember? She knows there are movies over there because she remembers going there at sometime in the past."

FCB: "We haven't gone there in years! How could she remember that?"

Me: "I told you she was a smart little cookie. She remembers all kinds of things that you think she doesn't. She remembers everything you say, too. EH-HEM!"

FCB: "I know she is really smart, I just wish she would have more...more...um...I can't think of the word, but more control of her self."

Me: "You mean more SELF CONTROL?" (This was follow by much hilarity and me almost peeing myself from laughing at him)

FCB: "Are you making fun of me? Are you laughing at me?"

Me: "Of course!"

Punk: "It's OK, Daddy, there is another movie store right down the street!" (Followed by giggling because she thought she was "in" on the joke.)

To give him credit, he is a little frazzled right now. They just moved his mom into this new nursing home on Monday and she has deteriorated rapidly this last week. They aren't expecting her to last more than a few more days since the heart infection is back. We are just trying to get her back to he own home to die in as much comfort as possible. We are all a little stressed and a whole lot of busy. That was why I was so light on posting this week. I promise to get back into the swing of things here really soon. Miss you guys!!

You make me want to live.

2009-03-17T19:47:00.003-04:00

(The song below is by) Fisher - You (is the name of the song and these are the words...)

It’s late now

Time to sleep

Close your eyes

Go to dreams

...

Clouds on walls

And blue skies

Mommy’s sun,

her moon, her stars

...

And you

You make me run

And you

You make me want to live

...

Your smiles

Well they make my day

You don’t know it yet

But you’re everything

...

This little song – well

It’s for you

These lovely years

here with you

...

And you

You make me run

And you

You make me want to live

...

And you

You make me run

And you

You make me want to live

For you

She is my UNIVERSE.

And she makes me happy.

What's UP Wednesday!

2009-03-11T10:50:00.003-04:00

Howdy folks! Time for another What's up Wednesday post! Today, Persnickety and the Punk are going to be joining FCB as we travel down to Cape Canaveral to go see the shuttle launch. FCB bought tickets WAY back when and they has postponed this launch like 13 times now. So we get to go all NASA today and Punk gets a little education along the way. Thank goodness she shares FCB's passion for all things rocket. Let's hope FCB doesn't push me into the flames of the blast off. (Yes we have special tickets to get us REALLY close, not just side of the road close, so we have to endure 5 hours of security checks.)

So that is what is going on with my Wednesday. Drop us a comment and let us know how your day, week, or life is going! Sharing is caring! (Way, waaaaay too much PBS this morning before coffee.)

I have been exposed

2009-03-09T08:38:00.003-04:00

Got your attention there, didn't I?

I was actually interviewed over here at Grandy's blog and she posted it for everyone in her bloggy world to scrutinize. Then I got to thinking, (rare occurrence, I know) that when they all get here, if they get here, they only have my road-rage from a few days ago to entertain them.

So I figured I would post something new for you to visually feast on.

Most have you have read in the news lately that Barbie has gone trashy. Your little darling can now express her inner rebel/biker/trailer trash self and get her very own Tattoo Barbie. This Barbie comes with a tattoo gun and little rub on tattoos that you can stick all over her obnoxiously proportioned plastic body. Where you stick her is completely up to you. (Boy did that sound WAAAAY dirtier than in my head just now.)

My little Punk has gone one step farther to broaden Barbie's horizons and has created a whole new playground of KINK for her to enjoy. Observe.

I find these little floozies all over my house in all kinds of compromising positions. Hanging from the vertical blind cord, bound by the ankles to an elephant (don't even get me started on how hard I laughed when I saw this let alone how much harder I cried with mirth when my daughter asked me to help her untie her) or just laying around in various states of undress around the house. I swear if you showed up at my door you would think I was running some kind of nudist/swinger/kink camp for Barbie and her friends. Even funnier? There are no Ken dolls around so all these tramps are having to make due with whatever pachyderms are just hanging around. (My daughter has a thing about elephants. They not only outnumber the Barbies, but at this point, the humans AND the teddy bears.)

So there is a little view into the circus that is life around here. Or at least voyeuristic peep into the shenanigans that Barbie has been up to. I'll try to make sure I get more pictures of Barbie's escapades as she tramps her way through the house. Now I am off to the toy store. Gotta make sure I get my hands on a Tattoo Tramp Barbie before they are all sold out!

ARRRRGH!

2009-03-06T14:49:00.002-05:00

OH FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS MOVE THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY!!

Attention drivers: Please put down the sandwich/cell phone/muffin/hooker/Sonic Slush/cell phone. Also notice that the current speed limit is a posted 45 MPH. That doesn't mean 4MPH OR 5MPH OR even 4+5MPH, (though I am giving your tiny brains waaaay too much credit for being able to add simple numbers) it means accelerate until that little dial on your dash matches the numbers posted on the little sign.

Thank you.

This has been a public service announcement.

What's Up Wednesday.

2009-03-04T23:55:00.004-05:00

So I was over at PickledBeef's AKA Tink's blog yesterday and she posted about how her day was going and asked her readers to do the same. I figured, since I am so erratic with the postings over here at PT, I would start a weekly thing like so many of my other bloggy friends have tried. I just hadn't come up with a good idea yet. Well, I still didn't come up with the idea. Tink did. And I am so giving her credit for the original idea. So if she wanders over to my blog to kick my ass for ripping her off...which I hope she won't...I hope she will see how cool I think she is by linking to her blog to give her a little more traffic. Cuz I think she is a riot! Not that I don't think the rest of you are funny. You are. That's why I love y'all so damn much!

Anyway.

What have y'all been up to? How has your day been? How about your week? I know I have been rambling on lately about the demented FCBMom, and that can't be too entertaining for you. So comment away! Tell me all about it!

Look for this to be a regular Wednesday post. Not only because I like to spell the word Wednesday (I know I am weird) but because if nothing else, y'all will get a regular post out of me once a week. Plus you get the skinny on what is going on in all my bloggy peeps lives.

Also, just to let y'all know, I recently got a copy of my complete medical records. That is going to be worthy of a couple of posts in and of itself. Not only because doctor type people have been lying and withholding from me for 13+ years, but I now know exactly what my heart condition is and what the fuck it is really all about.

But enough about me, tell me about you!

I'm in mourning.

2009-02-28T15:04:00.006-05:00

I bet you all read that and thought that FCBMom died. I assure you, she is just as stubborn as her son and granddaughter (The Punk) and is hanging in there with her claws fully extended. They had to put a tube in her to feed her and she was officially declared incompetent, but she is a regular source of comedic relief for the nursing staff. They think she is a hoot! I think she makes for good blog fodder.

I was at the hospital the other day and we were listening to the doctor explain the course of action they were now taking since the tube had been put in and then all of the sudden in mid-sentence he goes, "Oh look! A dolphin!"

Way to have an ADOS(Attention Deficit Ooh Shiny!) moment there, Doc!

FCBMom's hospital (she thinks she is in a hotel somewhere in Illinois) room is overlooking the river. Beautiful view. If I were going to slowly waste away in a hospital room, I would want this view. There are 2 large picture windows and you can see all of downtown from them. She also has a great view of one of the major bridges that runs through the middle of this city. At rush hour the other day she was looking out the window at the bridge and all the traffic and said, "Wow! Look at all those ducks in a row!"

Yeah, she cracks us up. She has yet to remember my name, and has called me Jan, Jane, Sarah Jane, and Sugar Plum. The nurses ask who I am and she looks at them and depending on that day's lucidity level, she either says I am her daughter, daughter-in-law, neighbor, friend, yet another nurse, some strange man(???), or this girl that keeps coming to see me even though I don't know who she is. The nurses all know me so it isn't a problem, but when I was there yesterday there were some new people staffed and they asked who I was. I told them who I was and they looked at me puzzled because FCBMom was croaking that she didn't know me and why was I in her room? I then said I was the mother of her granddaughter. Well, that registered on both their faces as they said you are Punk's mom? Yep. That's me. The oven that produced the bun! (facepalm) They went on to explain that in her more lucid moments that is all she talks about is her granddaughter. I was all warm and fuzzy inside. At least I did something right by this woman.

I was visiting her yesterday and happened to interrupt lunch as I walked in. I heard her tell the nurse to "stop feeding me that other man's food!" I knew then that the visit was going to produce a few blog worthy points. The other one being, as I was walking out the door, "I feel like the devil. Stop chasing me around, already!!" Sure will, FCBMom. Anything you say.

So anyway, the original reason for this post before I got off on a tangent was that I was in mourning. I am down to my last 2 bottles of coffeecrack and I am already dreading the withdrawals I am going to have. I have been using it with this great chocolate coffee that I had found, and the taste was scrumdiddlyumptious. Or supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.*** I can't decide which.

I was going to put something in here about being cremated(get it? Coffeemate? Creamer?) but the joke just didn't jump out at me...eh.

Also...something else that has been bothering me. I watch Disney channel faithfully every morning with the Punk at 7:30am so we can catch the latest episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. She loves that show. I love the one after it. It's a Claymation Short called Shaun The Sheep. It's a riot. If you are ever up at 7:50ish am Eastern time turn on the TV and catch an episode. I know it's intended for kids, but it has just enough adult innuendo to keep the grown-ups entertained. OK. Shameless plug over.

So what has been bothering me is the dress code and relationship dynamics of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. Mickey is shirtless. Donald isn't wearing any pants. They both have girlfriends that are dressed like cartoon hookers complete with Ho Shoes. Goofy is a Dog. That is fully dressed, unlike his friends. He is romantically linked to a female cow. Yet she has HORNS like a male steer. Pluto is also a dog, but is Mickey's pet, walks on all fours and is completely naked. WTF? Pete, who we all know from the earlier stuff from our childhoods, used to be the villain or token baddie. Now is is a wimped out pussy version of himself that is a sometime friend of the gang. Almost like that kid in the neighborhood that no one liked to play with, but your mom made you anyway, because that was the nice thing to do. Only Mickey has a car. That comes out of a garage that has to be unzipped. (Don't even get me started on this since every time we come home my daughter tells me to unzip the garage door.) There is a flying Mouse Ear thing called Toodles that carries a plethora of whacked out tools to solve all the problems the gang comes across in course of an episode. Like when you can't seem to reach the door of your rocket ship that you store in your secret missile silo in the backyard? Well just holler for Toodles to deliver you a pogo stick so you can hop right on up there. How about when you get another pesky pink elephant stuck up in the tree in your yard? Toodles is right there with a peanut for you, but not before he makes your bitch-ass dance the "Shake your, shake your peanut" dance.

I could keep going, but at this point...you are probably either bored or laughing too hard to read much anymore, anyway. So I will wrap this up. By all means, if anyone has any logical reasoning or explanations, please feel free to comment away.

I'm back off to the hospital for another visit anyway. I wonder what my name will be today?

***I'll be damned if blogger spell check didn't put my ass in its place by telling me I spelled that wrong and offered up the correct spelling of that word.

Plucky Random Ticker Tidbits.

2009-02-23T20:49:00.002-05:00

The good news? I finally thought up a title to this post after mulling it over all day in my head and muttering to myself throughout the grocery store that made more than one person give me a dirty look and a wide berth.

The bad news? I doubt I will ever top the title "And then? She just licked the floor." Reality trumps imagination around here every.damn.time.

The good news? I saved the world today.

The bad news? My impact of using my aluminum reusable water bottle from Disney and FINALLY remembering to bring along the damn grocery bags AND make sure they went in the store with me instead of sitting uselessly in my van, probably won't make much of a dent in any lifetime of anyone I know in any near future. Still with me? Good. Moving along...

The good news? My new doctor is a young, hot, cute, funny, charming, caring, considerate, funny, non-hand-shaking-but-who-can-blame-him-I-have-MRSA, cute, funny...um...well, you get the idea. As he was checking me over today, he was looking up my nose with a little light thing and actually said, "How much do you envy me my job right now, hmm?"

The bad news? It hurts like a bitch to laugh while someone has a light shoved up your sore nose.

The good news? I doubt this will be a clandestine affair where I cheat on my regular doc by going to a younger, hotter, funnier doc on the sly for all my little bumps and bruises. I really like the new guy. He is computer literate and yet still managed to "doctor" me.

The bad news? The longest relationship I have ever had outside of family has come to an end. I had been seeing my "Savior" since I was 18 and at 19 he was the one that found my heart defect. I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for him. 15 years of putting up with the medical malfunction that is Persnickety Ticker deserves a medal or something. I'm just sayin'.

The worse news? I had to end the relationship because getting an appointment with him was like a homeless junkie trying to get a reservation at a four star restaurant. Every time I called, the office manager (who didn't like me much and who made my life more difficult than it had to be all because I called her on some misinformation once about FMLA and even complained to her boss and then she was all like the hateful, nasty cheerleaders in high school that made ugly faces at me, talked bad about me and made me miserable with their hoity-toity attitudes like their shit didn't stink and whoa did I just shoot off on a tangent there can we say unresolved issues coupled with ADD sorry 'bout that I'll steer back to the original thought) would inevitably answer like I had a flagged account and would tell me they were completely booked and she couldn't squeeze me in, and I should just go to the ER. I was told last Thursday that there were no appointments and they would be closed on Friday due to their computers being down for maintenance. (Like there was no way a doctor or a nurse could treat without their damn computer, call me old fashioned but I remember when the whole fucking practice was computerless.)

Ahem. I found out Saturday while I was in the ER that my brother in law had been to the doctor on Friday. Oh? So they were open, eh?

FIRED.

The good news? I am breaking out of a rut and maybe a fresh pair of eyes will have some better ideas to help me get healthier.

The bad news? I have to start all over again with the explaining and the paperwork and the argh and the frustration of getting to know someone new.

The good news? A complete stranger called me "Plucky" today. I took it as a compliment even if it wasn't meant as one.

The bad news? I had to stop typing this to go fix dinner and eat and I kinda lost my groove.

The good news? I am on enough antibiotics to kill the plague according to the funny new doctor.

The bad news? I am taking upwards of 12 pills and sometimes more a day just to get rid of whatever this crud is. Yeeaughck. Yes that's a word. You people are vocabulary junkies and I am just runny on empty here at the moment. Yes I said runny. Not running. I was trying to make a subtle joke there but when I proofed I thought no one would get it. Eh. Blame the meds.

The good news? My bread and eggs didn't get crushed, for once, under my milk jug.

The bad news? I had to bag my own groceries much to the chagrin of the umpteen people waiting behind me in line. But secretly I was laughing on the inside because I was doing it slowly just to irritate people.

The good news? I didn't get into any car accidents today.

The bad news? People in my town have just stopped caring about how badly they are driving because they are too damn busy talking on the phone while speeding up to pass me only to jump in front of me to slow down to 10 miles under the speed limit. Oh for the love of GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY!

The good news? I am almost done.

The bad news? I got one more. Don't get your panties in a twist.

The good news? My little Punk went to spend the weekend at my older sister's house while I was all indisposed with the plague.

The bad news? I think we left not only her brain, but her common sense and her potty training skills at my sister's. And I don't even want to attempt to drive back across town to go look for them.

On that note, I am out of here. I need to clean up the tornadic disaster that is my 5 year old.

And then? She just licked the floor.

2009-02-22T11:27:00.004-05:00

Having had the plague that is this effing cold for 6 weeks now, I am completely miserable. I couldn't feel anymore like shit than if I dropped out of the hindquarters of a dung beetle. I think I said that already in another post, but hey, I go with what I feel. Having returned home early this morning from a visit to the ER to have my severely infected with possibly MRSA nose that is swollen to 3 times its normal size looked at, I collapsed into bed where I got almost no sleep. Damn morphine. I will sleep for 10 minutes and lay awake for an hour. Plus? Itchy EVERYWHERE. Damn side effects.

But enough about me, this is a little story about the Punk.

Having had a snotty nose all week, we have been trying to get her to take medicine to make the snots stop pouring out of her nose. Because she wipes it across her face. And into her hair. That is of course only if mommy's shirt is not readily available to use as a tissue. No kidding, this kid will come seek me out to give me a "hug" as a ruse to just wipe her snotty germy excess all over my clean shirt. Because I am always wearing a clean shirt due to the fact that she just snotted up the last one and I had to change. Ugh.

So the medicine that we have found works best with her is those thin strips that instantly dissolve. One second on her tongue and a gulp of water and everyone is happy. Well, except for the resentful glares I get the rest of the day along with the accusations of "Look what you did!" while pointing to her mouth. So on Thursday, I took her to school after her therapy and she was just a snotty mess because we were running late that morning and I had forgot to dose her up. I stopped into the nurse's office on the way to her classroom and asked them if the Benadryl that I had left there for her skin issues would also clear up her nose. They said sure and went straight to the cabinet and pulled one out for me. Now these are the little "spoon" type dispensers that you just open and squirt into their mouth. Sitting in the office at the time of this little...um...show...were 2 school nurses and 2 student nurses from the local college. This office is the size of a large closet. It was cramped.

Oh for the love of TODDLER TANTRUMS!!

She was already blubbering because she knew I was going to try to give her medicine. She was just upset that I had delivered her to school instead of to Grandma's bedside. She was completely over dramatic because...she had an audience. Period. I'm telling you now this kid is going to win an Oscar before she is 7.

I grab her, wrestle her to the floor (while all four medical type people stared at me) and tried to squirt the medicine down her throat. She fought like a feral cat trying to avoid a bath. This went on for several minutes while I tried to dose her (Absolutely NO help from the medical people that just sat and watched like we were some type of Broadway show or train wreck in progress.) and when I finished the last squirt of medicine....

SHE ROLLED OVER AND LICKED THE FLOOR.

Presumably to get the medicine taste out of her mouth. Now personally, there are other ways of accomplishing this...but her? Going for the most disease and germ laden option was the only way to truly protest to the utmost degree, the indignity and WRONGNESS of making her take something that might actually make her feel better. She could have opened every doorknob in the whole school with her mouth and been more sanitary than licking the nurse's office floor. ::shudder::

The good news is? She promptly puked into the trash can right after that all happened. The better news? The stunned look on the student nurses faces after the whole episode. I had to giggle. That'll teach 'em to want to enter the field of being a school nurse. Hah! The bad news? I got enough Benadryl in her to make her sleep most of the day. So school was pretty much a wash that day. I went home looking like a used Kleenex.

And that is a little peek into the drama that is my 5 year old's life. My pain meds are kicking in along with something else that is making me sleepy(damn side effects), so I am off to bed to go heal up some more. Thanks everyone for all the bloggy love I get in the comments, it means so much to me.

Til the next fiasco...

I promise I won't let the cookies eat the cats on your ceiling.

2009-02-17T08:51:00.003-05:00

I am so tired I could sleep for a week. I couldn't feel more like shit than if I dropped out of the ass of a dung beetle. Do dung beetles even have asses? Do moths have balls?

Anyway. Been doing my share of FCBMom duty at the hospital. (Could someone please page the Universe and let it know that I am not the heartless bitch it thinks I am? Also, could Karma please be CC'd on that memo as well? Ktnx.) I have been running myself ragged between my regular family duties and trying to take care of everything else that keeps popping up in my life. Today isn't going to be any less hectic. I just caught a break today because I was able to put the Punk on a bus and not have to deal with 15 year old attitude coming out of a 5 year old mouth. I thought I would give y'all an update while I enjoyed my morning dose of caffeine and waited for FCB to rise from the dead so we can get going to the lawyers.

While visiting with the FCBMom, she is providing me with lots of giggles as well as frustration. As to be expected with a stroke. The other night was a particularly hallucinogenic one for her. Blame it on the meds or her condition, but she was hilarious. She was staring blankly up at the ceiling and I asked her what she was looking at. (She blanks out on us and sometimes sleeps with her eyes open. Creepy.) She said she was worried that the cookies (I brought her cookies to try to get her to eat something, ANYTHING!) were going to eat the cats that were all over her ceiling. I couldn't help but start giggling. She looked at me, and in a moment of lucidity, she said, "Oh my! What did I just say? I must be losing my mind!"

I just smiled and told her to go with it. Between the drugs and the stroke she should just lay back and enjoy the show while it lasts.

Within a few minutes she started brushing the blankets and asked me to help her get all the puppies and bugs off of her bed so she could sleep. I told her I thought we had seen enough animal planet for one night and I was turning the TV off so nothing else would come out and bother her for the evening.

My reward for this heroic gesture? She reached out to touch my face while I was straightening her blankets and told me that she wished I was her daughter.

Awwwww.

As I was leaving and telling her to get some sleep and I would be back in the morning to help her eat breakfast, she warned me to make sure I watered the cookies or they would wither and die.

Who knew?

So that is one of many funny little tidbits I have to share. I am sure there will be more to come since she is going to be in the hospital for at least 6 weeks if she lives that long.

If you are looking for more funny, go check out my other blog that I share with Feisty and some Crazy Lady. There is a new post up that made me spew chocolate coffee this morning. Just what I needed to start the day!!

I'm allergic to clothes.

2009-02-13T19:43:00.003-05:00

Or my house. Or maybe just my room. It could even just be FCB's fault. When I am at the hospital or in my car or anywhere but home? Not itchy.

When I get home or overnight while I sleep? ITCHY!!!

I don't know what it is. I have been Googling for days. There are some scary-serious itchy causing things out there.

I am convinced I have all of them and I am dying.

Meanwhile. While not at home and not itching, I am spending lots of time at the hospital.

I am not the patient this time.

FCB's (that is Fat Cranky Bastard to any newbies) mother is in the hospital. She has been down for weeks. His sister didn't think to bother to call and tell us until the hospital lost her mother.

Let me say that one more time for those in the cheap seats in the back or anyone that just did a WTF double take. THE HOSPITAL LOST HER. FOR FIVE HOURS!

A bedridden woman, nay heart patient, that had had at least one stroke. They transferred her from the hospital on the southside of town to the hospital downtown. Because they want to do surgery on her. Her artificial heart valves are infected with a bacteria you get from your mouth (Think toothache, bleeding gums...I have to be very cautious of this stuff myself.) and they need to go in and replace these valves on a 75 year old stroke victim. I am sure there is a gaggle of cocky cardiologists and surgeons that think they can pull this off but they are out of their ever loving ego maniacal minds.

So we got this call that FCB's mom was missing in action and was last seen and heard from at 4pm. We got the call at 8pm. I called downtown to try to locate her. First call? No-help-Nancy decided I was crazy because I was trying to argue with her that FCBMom had not been discharged. Second call. More arguing with a slightly more polite Martha that "Mom" had not been discharged but had in fact be transferred that afternoon by ambulance. They can't find her in the system, therefore, she isn't there.

Third call. Pat. I love Pat. She was so pleasant and helpful I want to bear her children. She said she would do anything to help find my "mother" even if she had to wander the halls calling out her name. And she found her. At 9pm. She was in a "holding cell" in an area that is used mostly in the day. Lovely.

We made it up to the hospital and found her in the "holding cell" where they had stuck her. She couldn't finish most of her words or any of her sentences. She couldn't form a complete thought. Her left arm was shaking violently and her face was drooping severely on the left side. We yanked a nurse over. She said that "mom" was a new patient and they hadn't received any info on her yet. We told the nurse that it looked like she was having a stroke and would it be just hunky dory with them if we wheeled her down to the ER so they could get a look see? The woman (will all the love, sunshine, and puffy rainbows in her heart, I'm sure) said she would send over a doctor. 15 minutes, and a challenging round of charades later, a doctor showed up. He said that they were processing her as we spoke and that her 9?! doctors would get together to decide what to do with her the next day. He proudly (oh for cryin' out loud, already!) said he would be the guy to coordinate everything. We inquired as to whether he was aware she was either having a stroke or had had one quite recently and he said that he was aware of an old stroke but not any new ones (Just look at her, you SMUG FUCKTARD!) and that he would have to look into it. (Um...yeah. You just do that Doogie House-er.)

We were then told that since she was in a "holding area" we weren't going to be able to visit long, but that they should have her in a room by the next day sometime. WTF??? We left. We were pissed. We drove across town to confront FCBSis and find out what she knew. It ended up being a middle of the night discussion on the front porch about the division of assets. (Y'all mind your shoes since the kids seem to be throwing dirt on "mom's" grave already.)

Went back to the hospital the next day. All three of us "kids" and the Punk to boot. The woman in the bed was just plain old Grandma. She was talking fine and her face was OK and she wasn't deathly gray anymore. Yay! She was coherent and lucid and seemed to be feeling better. But as time slipped by she slipped away again. Three hours after getting there she was back into a post stroke comatose state. (Weird.) One doctor came in and discussed what they were planning. FCB and FCBSis were sitting there like lumps with confuzzled expressions. I talked to the doctor about what was going on and what we could expect. I also informed him that while she was awake and lucid she demanded that she didn't want any surgery and to just let her go. He said she did have another stroke (no kidding) and he blathered about surgery this and surgeon that. I stopped him short. Nuh-uh. Not going to happen. He seemed at a loss for anything else to talk about so he left. Meanwhile the lumps were discussing the best way to legally cover their asses. Get the will. Get the other paperwork. Make sure you have the will. Are we ready to leave yet? Make sure you get the will. Lets get out of here now that the doc is gone and our mother is practically in a coma. Don't forget about that will. (Um...I think you got a little dirt on your shoes there. Want a shovel so you can join in at this point?)

I went back today. She was only lucid about 50% of the time. She thought I was her son, daughter, FCBex-wife, church friend, nurse, and someone else that only she knows. There was one moment there in the end before I had to leave to come home that she grabbed my hand, called me by my first name, and asked me to make sure I took care of myself. (Dammit that made me cry.) I had to leave to come home and feed my child and get some rest.

I will be there tomorrow. FCBSis said she is too old and tired to keep schlepping back and forth to the hospital. FCB is coping the only way he knows how by signing up for more overtime at work. I will hold this woman's hand as she slowly dies. She is not related to me other than being my child's grandmother. But I just couldn't bear to see her die alone. So I may not be around so much until this is over.

At least when I am there I don't itch like when I am here at home. HIVES the size of really naughty hickeys I tell ya!! Imma go lotion up and head to bed for some rest now. Cuz I am double-dog-dead-assed-tired at this point.

Happy Groundhog Day!

2009-02-11T09:07:00.003-05:00

Or at least that is what it seems like around here. Same day...slight differences. And also? No plucky comic relief from Bill Murray. I am not even learning to play the piano. I am, however, waking up every morning to get my coffee (cuz I am not human without it) and this morning? I managed to aim for the trash can with yesterday's grounds and completely miss and get it all over the floor. Dammit Bill! Where are you? Or at least Phil? Anyone? Hellooooo?

So after that was cleaned and the coffee pot was cleaned and the chocolate coffee was brewing I started my day...well...kinda. I was intercepted by the FCB before I had even the first drop of the sweet nectar and he was all nag, nag, nag, nag, nag, what's up with the full body hives the size of half-dollars? Oh..and nag. He should know better. I am unbridled evil before I get my caffeine. I just think he wants to die at this point.

"I don't know why I am covered in hives," I whined. "It must be something I am having an allergic reaction to."

"That looks painful. You should do something about that," he nagged.

"Grumble, grumble, grumble, where the fuck is a baseball bat when you need one, grumble grumble, isn't that damn coffee done yet, grumble."

So same day (been sick with the plague that the nieces blessed me with for days) and for all that I was itchy for the last few days now I am all hive-y and look like hell. With coffee grounds stuck to my feet. That I am randomly spreading throughout the house. Much to the chagrin of the FCB neat freak. (hehe) So hopefully I will get this day right eventually so I can start on tomorrow. Cuz that would rock my Croc socks off!

Couple of highlights that have made this week different, was a double doctor visit yesterday. Punk had her annual physical yesterday morning and she was such an uncommonly good girl for that, and then we went to have a sonogram of her kidneys in the afternoon. That was interesting. She was behaving so well it made me think I had accidentally brought the wrong child home from Disney. The tech told her to lay down on the table and that I needed to help her. She was already on the table by the time the tech finished her sentence. Then the tech said she needed to put some warm jelly on Punk's tummy. Punk yanks her shirt up and points to her belly button and says, "Here's where you put the glue!"

The tech started the sonogram with the bladder. Punk was was all, "Can I see? Can I see inside my body? Please? I want to see inside my body!" The tech turned the monitor and showed Punk her full bladder. Told her that was where the pee-pee was hiding.

To a five year old that thinks hide and seek is the bestest game EVER!! this was just the right thing for that woman to tell my daughter. A subsequent scan of Punk's kidneys and a description that those were the pee-pee factory and the bladder was the hiding place where the pee-pee hides before it come out to go home to the potty got my daughter all giddy with excitement that she was seeing inside her body and now knew the secret hiding place of the sacred peeps.

This was the conversation that followed. For the rest of the evening.

"Mommy? Did you see my body? Did you see inside my body? I got glue on my tummy. I know where the peeps are hiding Mommy! Do you like my bracelet? (Hospital band) I like my bracelet. It's white. Peeps are yellow. Did you see my pee-pee in my body? I feel all better now. Are you going to the doctor next, Mommy? Can we see inside your tummy? Hey tummy? I know you are hiding my peeps. Can my peeps come out now? (All the while having this discussion with her bellybutton.) Mommy? I think I got glue on my back. Mommy? Am I going to stick to things now? That glue was warm. My body is AWESOME! Did you see inside my body? I got a factory in there. The peeps are hiding in there. Do you think they want to come out, Mommy? I gotta go potty. (SO GO!) Look, look! Mommy? I went peeps! They aren't hiding anymore! Do you think the factory is going to make more peeps? I want to see in my body again. Can we go see in my body again? ($$$) I want to get glued again. That was fun. Just no more shots, OK? Mommy? The next time you can get the shots. I love my bracelet. I love my body. I love you, Mommy. I love my factory. I love my peeps. I love my potty. Can we do it again tomorrow, Mommy?"

Uh, yeah. Tomorrow. Can't wait.

Are you just here for the cake?

2009-02-08T17:39:00.002-05:00

Cuz my stats went through the roof after I posted some cake. No wonder CakeWrecks gets so much traffic. The cake must be addictive or a controlled substance or something. You guys need to admit when you have a problem. Trust me, it's for the best.

I will get around to posting about my birthday Disney trip. I just need to get in a better mood before I do so it doesn't come out all bitter and vile. Let's just say for now, the highlight of my birthday was the trash can that serenaded Happy Birthday to me after I fed it a Mountain Dew bottle. But if you are looking for a great Disney story, go check out my bloggy friend Johnny Virgil. It seems there are things about fruit bats that I didn't know and was pretty much OK with not ever knowing.

I got lots of facebook love on my BD but not the first single phone call. From anyone. I am working through my feelings on that. I have already talked to one friend, and you know who you are, and we are all cool. But to the other friend? If I treated you the way you have been treating me lately? We most assuredly wouldn't be friends. Isn't it great that I am so forgiving and such a doormat that I lay there and take it? Just letting you know ahead of time that the day will come when you will need me to be at your beck and call and I won't be. That day will be very soon. Consider yourself bitten.

Sorry you had to read that but I had to get that out. My blog. My soapbox. My feelings. I'm done.

To top it all off in the news department on the home front, FCB emptied my Coke bottle piggy bank while I was gone and threw it away. He then banked all the money save for 5 bucks for my 5 year old. He then paid HIS bills with it. I discovered this last night. I was upset. He said he thought the Coke bottle belonged to him. I told him he knew damn well that it didn't and that he just stole from me. He called me many a choice name and then told me to get out of his sight. Since I caught some germs from my family and I wasn't feeling well anyway I went to bed. I awoke to him making me breakfast. That was his apology. Then his sister called to tell us that FCB's mother, the grandmother to my child, is in the hospital with walking pneumonia. She has also stopped eating. She is giving up and trying to die. I have nothing against the woman, and have tried for years to get her to like me, and for that matter, my child. She thinks I am the reason her son hates his sister. Nothing is going to change her mind about that. I hope she doesn't die and I hope she gets better, because FCB only lost his dad less than 5 years ago and I don't think he is going to be able to handle the loss of his mom. I don't want anyone in my family to get hurt or be sad. But unfortunately, I have no control over life and death.

So that is what is happening on the Persnickety front. Not everything, but those are the highlights. Don't even ask me about the lowlights. I promise to find my funny and share it with you guys when I find it. Let's hope those damn dust bunnies didn't run off with it cuz I am just too damn scared of the dark to go after it in that instance.

Heeeeere's CAKE!

2009-02-03T13:57:00.006-05:00

You guys asked to see it when I was done. I have to admit it was the first time I used fondant and it is marshmallow fondant at that. I tasted it. It tasted great. I colored it and tasted it. Still good. I attempted to gently ease it over the top of the cake. OH-FOR-THE-LOVE-OF-ALL-THAT-IS-SUGARY-AND-COMPLICATED!! I messed up. I scraped frosting off and tried again. And again. It was definitely a lesson in patience. But, I can honestly say, even though it took me a lot longer than I thought it would and now I am late with everything else including getting packed to leave, I am very pleased with what I made.

*And on a side note any persons that might be reading this blog and don't like my humorous bent on things or don't like what they see? You can kiss my fat drunkaholic heart attack!

Thank you, now back to your regularly scheduled sugar coma.

Friendds don't let freends drog blunk!

2009-02-02T19:44:00.003-05:00

Cuz I am baking a cake and and have dranken a whole damn doodle bottle of Arbor Mist Sangria and am trying to pack for disney while talking on the phone with Feisty and I had this whole schpeeel about how absolutely fuked my Mondat was going and how it is a conspiracy between the evol funnel cake, the dust bunnies under my bed, the clowns in my closet and the bra manufacturers but oops...there goes my cake and holed on a minute....I am so kicking Duncan Crocker's ass right now!!

And so anyway...where was I? Oh yeah so I had this whole thing planned out to blog and then I started drinking and yall should be lucky that you getting at least this and I was going to be so funny that yous guys was going to pee your pants and then I started drinking and baking and droging blunk and OOOOOHHH look a kitty!!

A little visual to help me feel better and for you to mock.

2009-01-31T23:06:00.003-05:00

Me and the BFF at the happiest place on Earth. She was cold. And still a little woogie from the teacups. I was trying my best to imitate Buddha. Or Tweedle Dum. Or Tweedle Dee. Or Baloo the Bear. Or Dumbo's Mommy. Or just insert any large Disney character ____ here.

Cause don't I just look ANIMATED?

We look like we are about to get mugged or hugged or whatever by the rodent shaped shrubbery.

Cause we just rock out loud like that.

Oy! What a day!!

2009-01-30T19:54:00.002-05:00

It has turned out to be a gut wrenching, heart wrenching, and mind wrenching day. To start off the day on a positive note, Punk had a dry diaper when she got up this morning. The bad part is, we woke up late and had only eight minutes to get ready before the bus showed up. Then off to school she went. I was planning on going back to sleep since I have not stopped running around like a headless chicken since Monday. No such luck. I got a phone call from a friend that wanted to chitchat since they hadn't talked to me a little while. We talked for over an hour before said friend dropped a little tidbit of earth shattering news. Friend's explanation for holding back on the "big news" was because they were waiting for me to get fully awake and for my coffee to kick in. Well I was REALLY awake at that point.

I decided not to let the day go to waste by getting a jump start on next week's birthday cake. I set about the task of making a marshmallow fondant for the first time ever. What an experience that was! Hopefully it will turn out OK. In any case, I tasted the stuff and it tastes way less like ass-glue than the other stuff sold by the "official cake making product supplying company". I have an idea to copy a Mickey Mouse cake I saw when I Googled Mickey Mouse Cake. I am just going to make it a little different so that I can post pictures of it and not get sued by some random person somewhere.

While I am up to my elbows in marshmallow and Crisco my daughter's teacher called. She said that Punk's belly was really distended and that she had not peed all day. She was calling for advice as well as to tell me that my daughter is now a "toucher" in the sense that she has discovered her nether regions and thinks it is the coolest new toy! I told the teacher to relay the message to the Punk to stop touching and told her to slap a diaper on the Punk and that should make her pee in a heartbeat. They sent my child home with a diaper on and panties over top of them. Dry. She was running a fever and was very potbellied when she got home. FCB took her for a little bike ride to the mailbox down the street to see if that would get her bladder working while I called the pediatrician. The ped. said bring her in right away. I got ready to go and when Punk walked in the door, she had peed the diaper. I took it off and within minutes she had started peeing her pants but managed to get her pants off and get about half of it in the potty. Yay!

Off to the doctor we went. By this time, my lack of sleep/heart condition was catching up to me and I was trying really hard to get a migraine to go along nicely with my anxiety/heart attack. We got to see the same doc that saw my sister's newest baby and discovered the heart problem. He is a rock star in my family's opinion right now. He is concerned. So what does any concerned doctor do? Order a gazillionumpteen tests PLUS a sonogram and put her on a laxative while referring us to a bankbreaking amount of specialists. Woo. Oh yeah...and hoo. Potty training on a laxative. This ought to be a buttpuckering ball of giggles.

He perused her chart and asked me when I started potty training her. FCB says "last week" at the same time I blurt out "three years ago" and the doc gives us the most confuzzled of looks. He said according to her chart we had been at it for years. I agreed. He said at this point not only is it a behavioral issue, it might just be a medical one at that.

Stoooopid me for breathing a slight sigh of hopefulness that our life of medical misery might just be behind us. *facedesk*

Because of all the "potty drama" I missed my appointment to go sign my will. As if my life weren't so slightly complicated enough. So that's my day. I've already started drinking. If I already feel like I have the worst hangover in my life I might as well start trying to earn it in reverse.

Imma go cry now.

We have a threePEEter!!

2009-01-27T16:41:00.002-05:00

The amazing Punkadoodle and her bladder of steel has managed to go pee on the potty 3 times! While this not may be earth shattering news, she is staying dry all day at school. Not going on the potty there, but holding it ALL DAY until she gets home and just makes a mad dash to the potty and just Hoover Dams it all everywhere. Then she get soooo excited because she just went and she is such a big girl and then starts the whole "Superbowl of pee" party all over again. She is starting to get a little impatient that I haven't whisked her away to Disney World. I keep telling her the countdown is ongoing and a week will be over before she knows it...meanwhile...a week will be over before I know it and I have sooooo much to do before I go play in Disney for my birthday.

Just thought I would pop in an update of what was going on. I realize the majority of you are probably tired of bodily function updates, and for that I sincerely apologize. But other than a harrowing adventure over to the westside of the town I live in to return a gift to my sister, where I encountered an unending plethora of mindless zombies that have been taking driving lessons from my wombatshit crazy mother all the while having to listen to the local radio station replay the Beyonce "Single Ladies" song over and over again at what seemed to be 10 minute intervals (that bitch rubs me wrong like a sandpaper thong) of which all I survived mostly unscathed, all is quiet here on the Persnickety front.

I am baking a cake for my sister's birthday and going to experiment with marshmallow fondant. This should be interesting. Sticky but interesting. I promise to take pictures when I am done. Still waiting to give Feisty the honors of posting about her birthday first before I spill my rendition of what happened here. So go bug her. I got a bunch of funny shit just swimming around in my head looking for a way to get out.

We have SUCCESS!!!

2009-01-25T19:07:00.003-05:00

FINALLY!!! After months of sporadic and varying success, we have had a successful weekend of #2 and at long last she PEEEEEEEED!!! ON THE POTTY!!! We are celebrating like we just won the Superbowl. She keeps running around the house half naked screaming WE ARE GOING TO DISNEY WORLD!!!!! Yep...just like winning the Superbowl. Cause in my dreams? Those football guys aren't wearing much...

It only took me 3 years longer than most people. Boy are they going to be hating life when she shows up at school tomorrow and they actually have to do bathroom duty with her. Hehehehe. Oh to be a fly on that wall. Most long time readers and friends will know already that the one major hurdle I have had is school and their refusal to help me in potty training her. One teacher even insisting that I quit sending her in pull-ups and start putting her back in diapers. Lately she has been coming home from school in the same pull-up I sent her to school in. Soaking wet. I know because I mark the darn things. In a weird way, I hope she pees all over everything....hehehehe. And just to put a kink in their day? Gonna show up for a spot check. At least once. Maybe twice. The time has come for me to stop spending a fortune on disposables. For my kid to grow up a little. For the school system that has so far failed miserably to be held accountable. OUR success had empowered me. It's time to bring it on!

Oh...and YAY PUNK!!!!!

BWAHAHA! Even the Prez has a kinky side!

2009-01-24T15:13:00.002-05:00

I highly doubt this woman even does anything with the lights on based on how she just let this fall out of her mouth. She has no clue. Even the other woman off camera gave a nervous giggle. Kinda makes you wonder what is going on there in that news room!

I saw this on another blog and when I got to YouTube it was all over the place. It was good for an afternoon WTF chuckle.

Please excuse Persnickety from being absent from blogging...

2009-01-20T09:31:00.003-05:00

Cuz I am so writing that bitch a note!

No seriously. The reports of my death have been greatly....blah blah blah. Germs from preschoolers? THE MOST EVIL FORCE ON EARTH! (just warning ya...that's all I'm sayin.)

Punk came home from school last Monday with the "sickies". I got a call from the teacher about an hour after she went off to school and I was all like "Oh no, what now?" Teacher informs me that a 3 year old the size of a muppet tackled her and bit her. Oh yeah? What happened to my kid being the class bully that is smackin' around toddlers right and left? Huh? HUH?? I think someone is seriously misjudging the all-out ballsy-ness of my kiddo. When faced with adversity she just crumples into a pile of blubbering snot. I know. I LIVE it almost everyday. (She is so spoiled it's stupid.)

So I inform the teacher that if Punk is not bleeding or blubbering, she is fine and can stay at school. We agreed that was the best course. Phone call ends. I snuggled back down in bed for my usual Monday-peace-and-quiet-no-kid-in-sight-nap. Fifteen minutes later I got another call. Teacher again. Punk projectile vomited technicolor all over the classroom floor. Yay. Plus? Fever of 99.9. Double yay. So off to school to go get her. And when I got there? It was still all over the floor. Covered in paper towels. And the teacher? Thought it was a good idea to show it to me. WTF?? I asked her why it hadn't been cleaned up and were they waiting on me to get to school to do it for them? She informed me that they had to call a service to come clean it up because it was biohazard. (That should have been a foreboding clue as to what was to come.) So I gathered the Punk and we went home. She was in stay-at-home-watch-cartoons-soak-up-all-the-attention-she-can-get-from-being-sent-home-with-the-"Sickies"-heaven. I was all well-fuck-it-all-there-goes-my-fucking-day-of-productiveness. (And by productiveness I meant napping.)

The rest of the week went quietly because she slept alot (when she wasn't whining) and by Friday I was all ready to send her back to school. She was spared by me being just too tired to fight with her to get her up and off to school on time. So another non-productive day and then...

Then came the evil.

Friday was going all fine and stuff. I actually hadn't eaten anything and FCB decided to make pancakes for dinner. Punk was all excited because PANCAKES! and WHIPCREAM! and SPRAYITINMYMOUTH! So FCB cooks them up and I got up to go eat and when I did? Woozy-dizzy-oh-for-the-love-of-where-the-fuck-is-a-bucket!!

I lost my shit. And by lost my shit I mean that a Mack truck tried to exit my fucking body sideways all the while laying on the airbrakes and the horn and with a greasy little driver singing "Convoy" all the way out of my esophagus. And then? I puked cammo. (Did she just say cammo? Oh no she di'ent!) Yep. Cammo. Green. Pea soup green. Brown (probably blood cuz I hadn't eaten anything in like 24 hours) and black (coffee grounds) and bright red (blood from the fucking Mack truck that didn't stop to ask for directions). Colors that the human body cannot produce on its own with out the digestion of a fucking gremlin or two. When I thought it was all over and I was all in the clear? Blue.

Blue? Surely Persnickety must be making that part up.

Nope, you read that right. Blue. Seems the gremlin and the trucker had been having a party in my tummy that included a cake with blue icing. Or possibly a chocolate cake with a naked drunk blue Smurf that popped out of the center. Who knew? And why wasn't I invited BEFORE things got out of hand?

This evil little party lasted for 3 days.

By the 2nd day? I was in so much pain from hurling and old accident injuries that I decided to medicate. So I went trolling through my pharmacy. (Cuz I got a doc that is all about the love and fuzzy and what do you need and he rocks my socks.) I see that I have an 800mg ibuprofen. Groovy. But lets just chase that with a narcotic so I will sleep through the next trucker-gremlin-Smurf party. Tramadol...yeah, that'll work...nice and mild. Oh and let's not forget the phenergan to make sure I am not all wookie-woozie-hurkie-hurly. Basically enough drugs to knock out a troll. Yay.

It didn't knock me out. It didn't touch me. Plus the trucker and the gremlin and the Smurf? They amped up the party and invited Oscar the grouch and all his Army buddies. Bitches.

So then I went all Google and shit and looked up the strength of the collective pharmaceutical stores that I had available. And Tramadol? Supposedly going to make me have lots of warm and fuzzies and Alice in Wonderland kinda delusions and alter my sense of reality and I was like fuck-it-all-I-don't-remember-seeing-any-damn-grinning-cats and my reality is just sucking buckets at the moment. So I decided to take it slow and start weak with Darvocet. WHOA! Weak my left nut! It knocked me flat. Yay! Sleep.

And then after I woke up and then because I was all like "no more reality...can't take reality" chanting like rainman on a bad day. I decided to take another one. And then Feisty called to check on me. Well...it seems me on Darvocet? And not sleeping? I get chatty. For over 2 hours I would not shut the fuck up. She was giggly. I was "whoa...who the hell is making all that chatty noise and when the fuck did they get invited to the naked cake cammo party?" And yet I just kept talking until I killed at least one phone battery and then Feisty was all like maybe you should go and rest and I was all yeah, that sounds like a good idea.

So I did. And I am better. And I brought a note. All is well and good in the land of Persnickety and tomorrow? Feisty and I are going to Disney for her birthday. This should be way too much more fun than adults should be allowed to have. We are bringing cameras. And lots of snark.

And leaving the fucking naked Smurf and all his friends at home, dammit.

Cuz this made me laugh till I leaked a little...

2009-01-14T13:19:00.004-05:00

Back in November, I wrote this post. I realized about a week ago that I had it sitting out there as an unfinished post (I have lots of those) and it was mostly done, stated how I was feeling that day, and well...unpublished. So I posted it. A few people commented on it. I just got a comment today from One Reader that actually made me laugh loud enough to pull my kid out of her cartoon coma. (That's a feat in and of itself. She is home with the sickies and has actually started to fuse with the couch. I think she is starting to feel better though because she asked for pizza crust and chocolate chip cookies for breakfast.)

So anyway this comment went as such:

One Reader has left a new comment on your post "Cuz I could bottle that shit and be all rich and s...": I will totally design the bottle for this Common Sense you speak so highly of. I can only assume we need some here because the driving is sucking! Also you may want to branch off into Manners in a box or something, cause rudness is flourishing.

I have so totally busted out with a small cardboard box and have a trusty Sharpie marker in my hand to mock up that "Manners in a Box". It will now be a staple in my van to wave at people on the road as I drive. THANK YOU One Reader for the totally awesome comment and suggestion. I doubt I will actually get rich off of it, but pissing someone totally off will so be reward enough.

In case anyone hasn't noticed, Feisty and I have a new blog over here. Like we didn't have enough on our plates, us crazy bitches had to go and start something else. Wander over, leave a comment, or follow us if you wish. I promise we won't inundate you with too much disgrossting material. There can't be that many crazy shit out there in the world, can there?

*For all you wordy people that think I am the next Urban Dictionary (teehehehe) that "disgrossting" word was for y'all. What can I say, it's early (for me) and the damn coffee is just not that strong.

Is it wrong to eat cheesecake for breakfast?

2009-01-09T11:23:00.004-05:00

Because I am all out of grits and eggs and hash, burnt out on Cheerios, and not going to make an entire batch of pancakes for only myself.

Plus, in order to bribe my 5 year old to get on the bus this morning with limited kicking and screaming, I shoved a chocolate chip cookie at her and promised I would not run away from home and be waiting on pins and needles until she got back home. We are going through a separation anxiety phase after spending two weeks of Christmas break at home 24 hours with mommy and daddy. She keeps checking on me at 3am to make sure I am still alive and breathing and screams bloody murder when she has to leave me and begs me not to run away from home (even though the thought has crossed my mind, although if I ran she would be the Louise to my Thelma). Everyday she gets home from school I get a 45 minute hug with random leg clinging sessions throughout the rest of the evening. The spontaneous kisses and proclamations of love? Bonus.

So if she can eat a chocolate chip cookie for breakfast? That should totally give me pass to scarf down ~~half the whole damn~~ a slice of cheesecake.

After all, I have a tedious day planned of trying to finish the mom's birthday present. (Happy Birthday Mom!)(Not that she reads this.)(I've been working on this present for months. She gave me the materials and said do something with them. The materials don't mesh well together. She wouldn't budge on me using substitutes. It goes against my basic aesthetics and I have bitched about it to her. She told me to suck up and just make it cause it's what she wants and she is the MOM and don't argue with her.) Now I know where I get it from. I should just probably start trying to curse my child with a child just like her since my mom cursed me one too many times and now I am stuck with a child that is me all over again but in excess. I figure this curse is growing exponentially. I fear for my great-grandchildren.

I am also swamped down with a massive case of multislacking. Multislacking? Yes, multislacking. I am currently NOT doing MANY productive things. Thus the multislacking. I blame the BoomShine.

And no I am not drinking before noon. Yet. Well...

Actually, I just find these fun little sucking black holes of wasted time and share because I am a giver that way. Enjoy.

Eventually, I will start doing something. Eventually. Maybe. Possibly. Just one more round of Boomshine and I will get right on that. Slack on!

Her corpse isn't even cold yet...

2009-01-06T15:40:00.004-05:00

We all know that the holiday season can be a real bitch, but she is barely past her peak and the whole world (or at least my neck of the woods) has already started shoveling dirt on her grave. While there were only about 4 people in my whole neighborhood that bothered to put up lights and decorations, it seemed like it was only Dec. 26th before the 'hood went dark. Talk about a bunch of scrooges. Our lights are still on the house. Our tree is still up. Our fugly red tinsel ropes are still draped across the artwork in the living room (FCB's idea. Punk and I hated it. Matter of fact, she would rip the stuff off every opportunity she could. I would laugh hysterically. FCB would turn purple with rage.) Anyway, back to the lights. Wouldn't this world be a prettier (or tackier depending on the house) world if people adorned their houses with a simple light string or two all year long? They make LED lights now that barely make a blip on the electric bill. I suggested we leave the lights on the house all year long to spruce up the 'hood. We live on the corner lot and we are the first house anyone who comes in the subdivision sees. FCB said it was a bad idea and I was just being lazy about not wanting to take them down. He's partially right. While I am no fan of the holidays especially, I do appreciate how a string of lights can perk up an otherwise dreary neighborhood.

My other holiday peeve is that I can't find eggnog or my coffeecrack anywhere. Geezuspetes corporate America! Can't you folks just realize that some people need a little extra sumpin'sumpin to get through the new year? Would it kill ya to extend sales until...oh I dunno...February?

I guess what I am saying is after the media and modern society have finished cramming us up to the hilt with the nagging bitch that is the holiday season, stuffing us full of warm and fuzzy good cheer as well as making it a time of year when sugary sweets count as an honorary food group, is it really fair that it's yanked out from under us like the proverbial rug and replaced with the "Get off your fat ass and resolve to be a better person now that we have taken all caloric goodness and sparkly lighting away from you!"

I guess I am just going to have to curl up in the fetal position in the dark and wait for another 11 months to get my dosage of overdone lighting displays and holiday themed, sugar concocted cheer. But not before I dip my thumb in Peppermint Mocha Coffee-Mate to suck on and plug in a multicolored string of LEDs for a nightlight.

Happy New Year.

(Oh, and on a side note...As I was trolling blogs this morning and commenting right and left, I have come to the conclusion that the word verification department over at Blogger has been hijacked by the LOLCats. All of my word verts this morning were nurmal werds speelled a leetle rongly. Lyke sumting ude cee awn dat webbsite. NEwon elsse notuss dat watewy?)

(On another side note, my blogger spellcheck just put me in my place like a loser at a yo'mama contest. Then its head rotated 360 degrees before it puked pea soup and called me a bad name. It's going to be a great year. ::Smacks forehead::

Who stole my tonsils?

2009-01-01T12:29:00.005-05:00

Cuz this morning...er...afternoon...I have this odd tingling sensation at the back of my throat where my tonsils should be. Could have been the smoke. Could have been the screaming for my favorite drag queen of all time. Could have been the random people grabbing me for a new years kiss. I hope no one was contagious. Would hate to have to hunt people down and sue them for giving me germs, because that would be all kinds of time consuming and costly. Maybe it was the drunk chic who decided that she needed to come into my stall while I was mid stream and stand there and wait to use the potty after me. She was checking herself in the mirror (no locks and handicapped stall in case anyone needed me to clear that up) and I was all like, "Excuse me, can't you see that I am a little busy here and WHAT THE FUCK, BITCH!"

She was all (slurred), "Oh take your time, honey! I can wait. How ya doing there? Having a Happy New Year and all?"

I was all zipping up and trying to get out of there as fast as humanly possible so I could go to another bathroom at the complete opposite end of the bar to wash my hands. I don't mind drunk people and all, just not all up in my stall. Especially while bidness is going on. Should have borrowed some duct tape from a queen to tape the door shut...

Anyway. We survived. A good time was had by all. Punk went with her dad to go see the fireworks downtown after she ate pizza with him. She said she had a fun time. Yay!

My new Crocs that I got from my mom for Xmas held up really well. My feet didn't hurt at all except for my pinkie toes which were rubbed the wrong way, but I bribed them and sweet talked them and now we have made nice.

And I just noticed that when I added that picture to my blog for you nice folks to check out my awesome shoes...blogger decided that my sentence structure and spacing in between sentences was not to its liking and decided to change that for me. Well call me a corn dog and bite me. That just sucked buckets and now I have to go back and change it all. BRB. OK, back.

So anyway. Just wanted to make sure everyone got off on the right note this year with a couple of references to other blogs that I think are absolutely hilarious. Laughter is the best medicine to cure all your ills, right? Let's hope the hangovers are a distant memory. We wouldn't want you laughing til you puke, now, would we?

Because tonight? Gonna party like I'm still breathing!

2008-12-31T15:29:00.004-05:00

Because last year this time? Was on the bathroom floor, passed out near death, from pneumonia and heart failure. Feisty and my older sister had to come rescue me and haul my sorry ass to the ER.

And then there was that whole "code blue" nonsense which lead to people in my family freaking out and shit.

So this year, since I am still upright and breathing, and actually feeling half human today, I am going out with my Moose. We are going to a little hole in the wall place where hopefully we will have a good time. And if we don't? Then we will go down the street to another, bigger, hole in the wall and pay another 10 bucks to have a good time there. She plans on drinking. I plan on sobering. That's just how I roll.

Happy New Year, folks!

Because I'm all about the bargain!

2008-12-24T13:09:00.001-05:00

Happy Holidays to everybody!

Merry F*ing Holiday, here's your shredded heart in a box with a bow.

2008-12-21T15:59:00.004-05:00

Because? I was having a great fucking day up until I got this email from Bacardi. Regulars will remember him. Friends will groan at his mention. Me? Melting into a puddle of sadness, heartbreak, frustration and sheer-all-out-unadulterated-rip-his-balls-off-pissed.

Hey I'm sorry for treating you the way I have in the past. I've done a lot of soul searching and found that I'm not such a good person after all... I'm sorry if i ever hurt you. You were so good to me for so long taking someone for granted is a sin after all. I hope you have a great Christmas... thank you for all that you have done for me in the past...

Merry Christsmas

It didn't have a "Dear" and he didn't sign it.

Back in July I was going over to his house and we were getting reacquainted. We have been friends for so long and have had that on again-off again relationship. He was conflicted over wanting to leave his girlfriend of 2 years because she had cancer and he didn't want to look like a schmuck about not wanting to be with her anymore. Then one day she up and packed and hired the movers and got out. He was elated. Even I will admit I was happy.

Then I got the whole story.

In parts.

Or should I say "minute instances of sobriety".

She wanted kids, he didn't. She wanted marriage. He didn't. She put up with his alcoholism. He put up with her grass habit. He assured me it was over and there was no more to the relationship. She wasn't coming back. Ever.

Fast forward to the end of July. I was helping out my best friend by participating in the Pride festivities and the parade float that she was supposed to ride on along with other employees of the gay bar she worked at. She was the only lesbian that showed that day. I hopped on the float with her along with a straight Waffle House waitress. Ah...good times.

On the way to the parade I passed Bacardi's house. I saw the "supposed ex-girlfriend's" car parked outside his house. That coupled with the wacky dodging emails I had been getting from him in the days preceding the parade and everything became crystal clear. The fucktard took her back. Too spineless to sever the relationship and move on, he had welcomed her back.

My reaction? I screamed insanely loud and obnoxious obscenities at her AND him through the neighborhood for a good 10 minutes. I was hurt. I felt betrayed. I was venting.

She was on his front porch sparking up a doobie. He was passed out drunk out 3 in the afternoon in the bedroom. She heard every word. She knew I was yelling at her because of the repeated use of her name along with a plethora of derogatory female curse words I was hurling. She got mad. Woke him up. Told him some woman was screaming and saying all kinds of thing.

One word. BUSTED!

It seems he had not told her that he had any female friends or had tried to "move on" after the "breakup". I guess she must have just thought MOVING OUT COMPLETELY AND REFUSING ANY CONTACT WITH HIM FOR OVER 6 WEEKS meant they were just taking a "break".

The ensuing email I got from him was umm...entertaining to say the least.

what in the hell are u doing coming by my house and yelling at the woman that loves me... i'm sorry she doesn't live with another man, she doesn't have a girl friend on the side she loves me don't be fucking with the people that love me i care about you leigh but don't fuck with the ones that give me there all I was alseep when all this happened and it fricking pisses me off that you respect me that little.... i never knew you respected me that little . To me your nothing but WHITE TRASH---SO DO NOT CALL ME ANYMORE AND DO NOT LOOK FOR ME ANYMORE.--IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS REGARDING HOW I FELL YOU ARE MORE THANWELCOME TO CA;LL THE WOMAN THAT I LOVE HER CELL NUMBER IS ***-****.

*Let's not even get started on how much he respected me by telling me he was getting back together with her and he wanted me to go away quietly and discreetly. * (watch that puddle of dripping sarcasm now. We don't want you to slip and fall...)

So I didn't call him anymore. In fact I deleted all his numbers from all my phones. I blocked his emails. I put him on my blocked IMs list. I didn't answer that email. I just let it go. I figured, the pieces of my heart could be swept up and eventually glued back together. I would get over it. In time. I would survive, because that is just what I do.

Eventually as the days went on and other things filled my time and thoughts, my heart was mending itself. I wasn't pining away for him and even though he still invaded my dreams occasionally, I was getting over it all.

To be honest I hadn't even thought of Bacardi in over a month. I was sitting here at home today, working away at getting my gifts made for my relatives, and then BOOM!!

That stupid email shows up. I knew it was him from the email address it came from. He doesn't get creative when it comes to picking email addresses.

And now?

At a loss as to what to do. So for I have two votes for ignore it, delete it, and block that new email address.

One vote for email the fucking bastard back and wish him the unmerriest holiday of his life, and the hope a rabid family of porcupines crawls up his ass as camps out for the winter.

One vote for forgiveness in the spirit of the season, and just a simple "Merry Christmas and please honor your promise not to contact me."

(I should also note at this point that I occasionally experience a duality of personality and I will give you one guess as to who those last two votes came from.)

So I need some advice my bloggy friends. I would like to get some feedback as to what to do, before I act all impetuously and do something I might regret. You can either leave a comment or email me. My address is on my profile. Thanks for the help.

Oh and glad tidings and joyous holiday wishes to you and yours!

God wears boxers, Santa does briefs

2008-12-14T19:59:00.002-05:00

Just thought I would clear that up for you. I was informed of these facts as I was helping my sister and her girls sort through laundry tonight. Turns out my favorite and only 9 year old niece has the direct line on this sort of info. Plus the entire evening was just an ongoing discussion of anything and everything as long as the word "butt" was inserted at random followed by uncontrollable fits of the giggles. What is it about the word "butt" that is so funny to a kid?

So that's my post, and I'm sorry it isn't long, but with the holidays and the baking and the ornament making and the helping with the sister and the taking of my computer by the FCB so he could clean my hard drive and then screw something up so he had to wipe out my whole computer and start all over and not allowing me to get access to his computer and basically severing my umbilical to my online life has all kept me a little busy. Rest assured I am writing things down to post when I get more time and my laptop back. I am just bubbling up to the brim with snark at this point and I have to be able to get it all somehow.

So to recap: God - Boxers, Santa - Briefs, Persnickety - busy but still ticking, Nieces (including new baby) - Doing great and keeping me supplied in blog fodder, Punk - Also doing well and thrilled at being able to spend time with cousins, FCB - Lucky I don't own a baseball bat to go all batting practice all over his shiny, bald head.

Hope everyone is have a chillaxing holiday season so far!

"Hey Mommy, I'm hungry."

2008-12-06T18:52:00.002-05:00

"No problem Punk. What would you like for dinner? Would you like some macaroni and cheese?"

"Umm, no."

"Would you like a peanut butter and jelly snammich?" (What she calls a sandwich.)

"Umm, no."

"Do you want another noga (granola) bar?"

"Umm, no."

"Well, what do you think you want? Hey, how about pizza?"

"Oooh, yeah! And Mommy? Can we get that with brownies on top this time? I'll go get the phone for you...."

Pee First. Don't eat or drink during. Enjoy.

2008-12-04T13:21:00.003-05:00

I aspire to be this funny in my next life. Cuz this dude wipes the floor with me in this life.

As the title states...go pee. Clear your computer area of any liquids you may be tempted to drink. Prepare to cease breathing from laughing too hard. Make sure your portable difbulator is charged.

(Oh, and if you are offended by anything he says, take it up with him, not me. Thanks.)

ENJOY!

They're home.

2008-11-29T23:52:00.002-05:00

Older Sister and her now 1 month old are home.

This after the little one spent half her life already in the hospital.

The doctors finally found a medicine combo that worked.

I am glad I could be there for her when she needed me.

I am tired.

Because I am tired, I am getting sick.

Again.

I hope and pray (even though I stopped praying years ago) that Older Sister will never have another worry when it comes to this child and will never know the the pain and hardship it takes to raise a "special needs" child.

Even though I know she will never stop worrying.

My child misses me so much she thinks I am running away and abandoning her every time I leave the room.

We are going to Disney's Animal Kingdom tomorrow for some bonding time.

(even though it will weaken me more)

Because my "special" girl is my universe and I want her to have more happy memories of me than not.

Please keep sending prayers, positive energy and good thoughts to my Older Sister and her baby girl.

I fully believe it all helped and is still helping.

You guys are great and I love each and every one of ya!

I'm Thankful it's over.

2008-11-28T11:38:00.002-05:00

Cuz family? (No one was even related to me except the throngs of children and the Punk.) And cooking? (If you call one dish of southern style special recipe mac 'n cheese that I came up with so my child would eat at least one thing because the mac 'n cheese they like to pass off as mac 'n cheese ever year is just a grease fest of no flavor and not enough salt, eww. Plus the fact that since Older Sister wasn't going to be there this year it fell to me to make her deviled eggs which I now know that apparently she is the only one in the world the can make OS deviled eggs cuz no one went back for seconds but I thought they tasted alright so everyone can just suck it cuz that means I can just take the rest home and so what that they were a little salty cuz it's not like any of the rest of the people there would even know a grain of salt if it jumped up and bit 'em on the ass. Ahem.) And FCB in rare extra cranky form? (He is so lucky that I don't actually own an aluminum baseball bat cuz I would so go all batting practice on his head.) And that was just the start of the day.

So when the dinner?!? came to pass? (We were late getting there since dinner was at 2 and it is cosmically impossible for me to be anywhere on time. Seriously. Me being on time would result in flaming frogs raining down from the sky to mark the end of the world as we know it. Even though my being late had nothing to do with me and everything to do with Punk and FCB draggin' ass and fighting and generally just goofing off to drive me to the edge of batty right before we had to leave the house, at which time FCB stated that he was driving and MY minivan at that, and proceeded to get in and start adjusting my seat controls as well as my mirrors and where the hell did I put that crowbar, cuz bat be damned, anything would do at this point!) So we got there at 3. (They were getting ready to start and we arrived just in time to catch the AMEN of the blessing and as I am standing there with food in my hands FCB just sat right down at the table to start feeding like a hoover-vac stuck on permanent suck. I found a place to put the food and when I uncovered my to-die-for mac 'n cheese noses curled up bigger than a whole closet full of elf shoes and was told promptly that there was already mac 'n cheese on the table. oh yeah? Bite me.) And the kids? (They all dove into my mac 'n cheese cuz it was kid friendly and made with Velveeta and actually had FLAVOR to it as well as SALT and PEPPER, and everyone who actually braved the wrath of the hostess to try it said it was WONDERFUL! And no that is not bragging it is just fact cuz I just know I am a good cook that way plus I have had to suffer the bland tasteless food that is this family's fare for the last umpteen years and I know that these people are ready to have something else besides unseasoned cardboard.) And the dinner? (Who the fuck makes mashed potatoes without any milk or butter or salt and pepper or maybe even a little sour cream and garlic? I swear these potatoes were cooked, thrown in a bowl and mashed. Nothing added. Nothing. Hork. Gag. WTF? The green beans? No casserole, just green beans thrown in a dish and heated. NO SALT AND PEPPER. The Stuffing? I honestly think they shredded some cardboard and threw in some cranberries. The corn? Same as the green beans. Canned, thrown in a bowl and heated without being seasoned. Creamed onions...WTF...orange whipped-looking something I didn't touch...rolls that were raw dough in the middle...TWO fried turkeys and one roasted one. I was given one slice of the roasted one. That's it. And don't get me started on the broccoli casserole that my BIL made. Bless his heart, with the wife in the hospital with the youngest of five, he attempted to make one of her dishes that she cranks out every year. I was with her in the hospital when the husband called 5 times to have her walk him through making it. At first taste it seemed that he got it right, but about 5 minutes after eating it my tummy decided that he didn't. I had a lovely view of the restroom for the remainder of the evening.) All in all these people have never even heard of seasoning food. It was tragic. Don't even get me started on dessert. If you can even call it that. I came home and had some ice cream.

So today? The easy-peasy turkey breast in a bag that goes straight to oven from the freezer is cooking away. The (well seasoned) creamed corn, is on the stove. The green bean casserole is ready to be made along with the (well seasoned) stuffing. The sour cream, chive and garlic (and salt and pepper) mashed potatoes are in the making. The mac 'n cheese will be reheated (because it tastes great even on the second day, and try doing that with greasy traditional stuff) and there will be blueberry pie and strawberry cheesecake. Oh and the deviled eggs? Plenty of them left over because I took what was left back home with me. So a nice, well seasoned dinner will be had by this family in my house with a nice plate made up for Older Sister that is still in the hospital with the baby. (Baby is still hanging in there through the wacky medicine changes.)
And after today? Will definitely be thankful that it will be finally, completely over. At least for a month. Then there is Xmas to worry about. But that is waaaaay far off in the distance and if I rock myself back and forth and chant that is doesn't exist, maybe it will go away. Maybe.

I have like 8 drafts just sitting here waiting to get finished.

2008-11-22T23:47:00.003-05:00

I hardly ever finish anything. The fact that I have actually managed to complete and publish posts in the past is an outright miracle. I have so many things to say...nay...to express all over you folks like an upchuck after a trip to an all you can eat buffet. But like that puddle of shouldn't have ate goodness, it is just a giant mess of stuff all mixed together.

I have Attention Deficit Disorder. Bad. My ADD is usually quite comical to my friends and family because in any given situation I am carrying on at least 7 different conversations about 12 different things. My best friends (gotta love 'em!) can keep up with me without missing a beat. Or at least they have mastered faking it to a T. I just keep rambling on and on while my thought train derails like a 8 car pile up. (And that was a joke...if you didn't get it cause I'm all subtle like that...go back and read it again. I'll wait. Still waiting. Get it yet? Laughing yet? Need me to wait another second while you clean the coffee you spit out of your nose off the screen? Sure thing. I'll wait. OK. Back to the story.) So where was I? Hmm...scanning the screen for what I already wrote....

So my friends get me. My sister even gets me most of the time. Keeping up with me can be difficult on many levels. Through this blog I have found other people who get me and even think I am funny! Whodathunkit. I found out today that my friend's friends read me and think I am funny. Awesome! Thanks, that rocks! Y'all rock! So here's my shout out to all the Mooses, Gooses, Fruits, Vegetables, Monkeys, Squirts and any other freaky whacked out nickname you folks choose for yourselves.

I fully intend on finishing and posting all those posts that I have started and haven't seemed to find the time or thought train to finish. I may just cut and paste and put them all in one entry and let y'all try to figure it all out for yourselves. Who knows. As the family is circling the wagons around the latest health crisis and I have spent an innumerable amount of hours trying to be supportive to my sister, I have collected some amazing blog fodder for future postings. I just have to get it all out of my brain an on to the computer and organized in a way that my readers will understand and....oooh look...a kitty!