Get it ON!

Today is going to be FANTASTIC! So is this weekend and so is Monday!

I feel like I'm starting a marathon. The shot rings out today and Monday night is the finish line. I'm writing clues for a first grade treasure hunt and taking the kids to their grandma's today. Then this weekend I'm making the clues (stained, torn, burned paper) and having a costume party for adults. On Sunday I'm doing some homework and picking up the kids and Monday I'm facilitating the treasure hunt and staying in my witchy costume all day until we take the kids trick or treating that night. Whew! The sling shot's a-pullin' back.

Time to let go...... PEACE OOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUTTTT!!!!!!!

Sit and Watch

Oh I don't know, they both make me want to jump in and help.

Old Baggage

Let's get something straight. When a person calls to make an appointment with a doctor or a hair dresser or even a professor, and says that he or she is available between 9 and 2 on Mondays and Wednesdays; he or she is not suggesting that during those times he/she would normally be sitting around staring at the wall, waiting for something to happen. Those are simply the times that said person has many flexibly scheduled items that can be moved to accommodate an appointment. Right? We know this, don't we? We understand that on all other days and times, rigid schedules must be kept. Right! Good.

Moving on.

I think it is an arrogant and selfish act to block your own number when calling someone. I don't answer calls when they are blocked or anonymous. It's like covering up the peak-hole when you visit someone's house. Eventually they're going to know it's you at the door. I understand a callers right to remain anonymous, I simply exercise my right not to answer my phone.
My neighbor, the old, know-it-all right next-door to us, always shows up as "Out of Area" even though she lives two walls over. At first, I didn't answer. Then she explained that it was because she blocks her number (whether that's true or not, I have no idea). After that, I would only answer when it was "Out of Area"because then I knew it was her. And I would answer, "Hi Polly!" just to let her know she wasn't being sneaky.
That was before I had a nice chat with her daughter over the shared back fence. Apparently Polly disapproves of my parenting techniques. This from a woman who's own children visit for one hour on her Birthday and all major holidays, but no more. Never any more. If their car appears, I can look at the calendar and figure out why. It's never a surprise, always an obligation. But I'm the "horrible mother" as her daughter quoted. Of course she felt comfortable telling me this because it's absurd! I'm a fantastic parent! Ask my kids.
Unfortunately, I wear my heart on my sleeve and just knowing that she thinks so highly of me will show on my face or be heard in my voice. I can be cruel without meaning to be and quite honestly, no matter how she feels about me, I kinda like the old bat. So I have cut all communications.
It is a freeing experience to go about my business as if the phone has not rung three times in the past hour. I can even ignore a doorbell rung twice then twice again, quickly, as if someone was bleeding from the eyes just outside(oh yes, this is the annoying behavior that took place when I still gave a shit and would rush to the door to see how I could be of service).
Now I know that no one is dying and I have better things to do than pretend to believe that someone likes me. If I thought that she could be straight with me, then I might answer the door again. We could take a few jabs at each other and call it a day, but she's too old and her generation doesn't do well with honest feelings. So, I ignore her. Many times it was those very phone calls and doorbells that interrupted my time with my children. So, you see, Polly has already taught me the error of my ways. Nice lady.

Circling Vultures

I was half asleep last night when I realized I hadn't blogged on Sunday or Monday. I've been a busy woman world! I'm actually surprised my phone wasn't ringing off the hook with worried family members. Ha! That's just a joke, my mother is the only person in my family who reads this and she swears she never worries about me. I haven't figured out if that's a compliment or an insult. I say, whenever in doubt, assume compliment!

I did make it back to the gym today, so my brain has returned. Let's see if I can keep it long enough to finish this entry.

Something peculiar happened this morning. I was doing the usual circling routine in search for a parking spot at school. There were a few of us. We were doing an 18th century dance around the isles looking for someone, anyone to pull out and give us their coveted 60-some-odd square feet of oil stains. Today, however, there was one car gumming up the works. Some grey haired lady sat in her car at the beginning of one of the isles and didn't move. Very ungraceful. She just sat there. I assumed she was waiting for a spot but then as I circled back around another car sat opposite her, like a face off, and further muddled the dance. I wasn't in that much of a hurry, it was not time for classes to let out and I didn't feel like fighting the madness, so I took one of three 30-minute parking spots and decided to read. When the classes let out, there would be plenty of parking to go around. I read two sentences, looked over saw a car pulling out, backed up, drove down, pulled in, parked... wait for it.... and walked past the two cars still sitting one isle over. How sad for them. Surely this one is going to come back to bite me in the ass!

Naked

The curtains are drawn. Wait. Are they drawn when they're open or closed? I should ask Amelia Bedelia, surely she's figured it out by now. Anyway, we're waiting for he sun to poor in and warm us up.

It is the most beautiful fall day. These are the days I live for; impossibly sunny, irresistibly crisp, as if the world itself is trying to preserve the colors. Chilled, but not yet frozen, perfectly refreshing. I have so much to do today but all that seems to matter is the breathing.

Happy Autumn World! DO enjoy it.



If you like my blog, "Like" my blog!

Gay Debate

Well, the votes are in. Over the past 6 or 8 years (I can't remember how long. It seems like a lifetime) we've heard both sides of the debate on same-sex marriage. It's been a nice long ride in which I believe we have adequately voiced all the points it is possible to make in either direction and now I would like to tally them up in a clean-cut, Pro/Con list and see if we can't reach a mutual verdict for all to agree upon. So, here goes.

Same-Sex Marriage

Pro:

Marriage is a human right.

Con:

Fucking faggots!

Pro:

Being a Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual or Transgender is not a choice.

Con:

OMG, it is like, SO GAY!

Pro:

LGBT orientation is not a disease and is not contagious.

Con:

Homo!

Pro:

More heterosexuals commit violent sex acts than homosexuals.

Con:

Uh... fucking faggots!

Pro:

An LGBT lifestyle is no different from a heterosexual lifestyle sans partner selection and therefore we can assume that a LGBT marriage would also not differ from heterosexual marriage with the exception of, possibly, a lower divorce rate. But we would have to try it and find out.

Con:

Fucking... so Gay!

Pro:

Simply outlawing same-sex marriage is not going to stop same-sex coupling and same-sex sex and if you are dumb enough to think that hot girl on girl action or manly man on man sausage rolls, effects you in a negative way than outlawing their marriage isn't going to change that effect. You may need to face the fact that you could be gay. It's okay.

Con:

Ignorant heterosexuals may need to face the fact that they could be gay. And that's not okay. So GAY!

Conclusion:

Well, I think the results are obvious. We absolutely can not allow same-sex marriage. Too many ignorant heterosexuals would have to realize that while they were fighting to deny the freedom for others to be happy, they were really just fighting their own gayness, er happiness and their own freedom to live gayly, I mean happily as fudge packers and carpet munchers. And for them to face that fear, well, that would be Armageddon! Have pity homosexuals! Some people are afraid to be as happy, er gay, as you.

Now! Let's debate this opposite-sex marriage fiasco... talk about being contagious and life ruining!  I can count on ONE hand the amount of opposite-sex married couples I know that are happy. Something should be done about this bullshit.

It's Getting Hot in Here! So take off all your....

I was really worried about the temperature of the house last night. It just wasn't going to be warm enough outside to warm up the inside. I know, you're all sitting there in sweltering rooms and offices thinking, "Turn on the heat, dipshit!" but we still have some 70 degree days coming our way and it is my firm belief that we should acclimate ourselves the way our ancestors did. And don't call me a dipshit, ya' assholes!

Anyway, the nice thing about cold weather is that you can cook and bake to your hearts content and not worry about over working an air conditioner! The stove and oven serve a dual purpose, cooking and heating. And that is a concept that I willingly take a healthy CHOMP out of. So last night I got down and dirty in the kitchen. I cooked a full meal and baked two loaves of pumpkin bread. Why not? By the time I was done I had to disrobe.... well, not completely, but I was HOT! Then, not only was the house comfortable, it smelled FANTASTIC! Give me some yummy recipes and an environmental benefit and I get excited, overheated and am ready to take something off! You know what I mean. Warm ovens and such.

Autumn is here!  Happy Baking World!

Here Comes the Sun

Today I am harnessing the sun's energy as best I can in my tiny, low-efficiency, home. You see. The people who built our house, back in the 50's, couldn't tell which direction was which, or, this being Kansas, still didn't believe that the earth rotated around the sun or tilted on its axis or any of that hocus-pocus bull crap. But it does rotate and tilt and because this was not paid it's due attention, our house is hotter than it needs to be in the summer and colder than it should be in the winter.

You see, our house faces directly to the West. The front of our house couldn't be more in line with the west and the back of our house, with the East. Perfectly semetrical. Boo! In the summer, when the sun follows a straight, East to West path across the sky, we get full sunlight in, first, our back windows, then our front ones. Hot hot hot! Then in the winter when the sun takes a less presumptuous, southeast to southwest path across the southern sky only the south side of our house gets any direct sunlight and only for a short period of time. Cold cold cold! Duh people!!  We are a civilized species. Are you telling me that we have only figured out how to use the sun to our advantage in the past 60 years? Disgusting! I guess back then we also believed that we would never fill up our landfills either. <shaking head> It's pathetic.

If however, they had set our house at a southwestern angle, we would get the sun on two sides during the winter. We would then get direct sunlight on two corners of the house in the summer and with properly planted trees, we could curb any light (heat) hitting the windows at an angle. Also it would be easier to block the wind in the winter with some evergreens on either side of the southern corner. But that's just crazy talk... makes too much sense for us humans. The fact that we are the most intelligent life form on the planet really scares me somedays.

Anyway, if you would like more information about planting trees to optimize what little efficiency you may already have, check out The Arbor Day Foundation. They rock! Correction: They TREE!

Sick Blog

The kids are beginning to exhibit their darker-than-usual sense of humor. I couldn't be more proud. Saturday we sat on the front porch making up cheers for their high school football team.
"2-4-6-8, who do we appreciate? 8-6-4-2, who the fuck do you think we do?!" This one was followed by an eruption of laughter along with some of the others that we call our "disgruntled cheerleader cheers." Nothing is funnier than a non-perky cheerleader that cusses. At least nothing was funnier to me and the 5 and 6 year old on Saturday. No, yeah, I 'm still pretty pleased with it! We'll see if I get any calls from teachers today.

Yesterday, I mopped my entire house, cleaned the windows and wiped down door jams (where do all these grimy hand prints at hip height come from?). My house will be so pretty and sparkly for a WHOLE week and then it will get grungier and grungier until I decide to clean again in the spring.... or summer.... or never. Don't visit unless you have lysol and a face mask. seriously.

Today I have a cold. WTF?! My throat hates me and I don't understand why. It's not like I don't give it all sorts of reasons to love me, like singing at the very top of my lungs while I drive, take a shower and work around my house... pretty much all the time, nonstop. So? It's not enough that I crank up the music to an ear ringing volume, sometimes I then feel the need to try and drown it out using my vocal cords. They love it! eh-hum, ouch. Obviously! Anyway, I think they're on strike. And like most strikes, it isn't fun.

I feel crappy. 

Dirty Room

from A Room of One's Own

by Virginia Woolf

1929

"______ - to call it by a prouder name than it deserved -- had let it's line down into the stream. It swayed, minute after minute, hither and thither among the reflections and the weeds, letting the water lift it and sink it, until -- you know the little tug -- the sudden conglomeration of a _____ at the end of one's ____: and then the cautious hauling of it in, and the careful laying of it out? Alas, laid on the grass how small, how insignificant this _____ of mine looked: the sort of ____ that a good fisherman puts back into the water so that it may grow fatter and be one day worth ____ing and eating. I will not trouble you with that ____ now, though if you look carefully you may find it for yourselves in the course of what I am going to ___.
     But however small it was, it had, nevertheless, the mysterious property of its kind -- put back into the ____, it became at once very exciting, and important: and as it darted and sank, and flashed hither and thither, set up such a wash and tumult of ____ that it was impossible to sit still."


Who says literature is boring? Happy Dirty Sunday World!

Short Story - Very Short

Amber

(all rights reserved ya' bitches)

In a department store dressing room, an Aunt sat holding two purses and talking through curtains to her Niece about the movie they had just seen.

"I thought it was a very cute story. That actress, I can't remember her name, she did a good job. Weren't those costumes gorgeous?" said the Aunt.

The Niece, in her mid-twenties sighed, "I don't know. I think I'm out growing chic-flicks. It wasn't very realistic. In fact, it seemed almost farcical."

"Oh, I thought it was a beautiful story. It was realistic enough for the time period. Wasn't it?"

"Maybe. I'm just tired of female characters being so dull. Fighting an arranged marriage isn't a personality trait. Neither is being pretty."

The Aunt stared at the floor and thought about it.

The Niece emerged from behind a curtain and turned from left to right in front of the trifold mirror.

The Aunt sighed, "You have such pretty legs. They haven't aged a bit since you were in high school."

The Niece smiled in thanks, "You want to know my secret?"

"Sure."

"I put lotion on, everyday, after showering. That's it."

"Every day?" she looked at her Niece's bright eyes.

"Everyday," repeated the Niece.

"Oh," the Aunt waved it off, "that's too much work." She looked back at the floor.

The Niece's smile faded but her eyes did not. She walked back behind the curtain. "That's what's wrong with the world," she said, more to herself, "Reality is too much work but to live in a dream you have to be sleeping."

Oh! I thought you knew.

I'm so star stuck,
Feelin' funny in my mind,
And I'm singing "uh-oh" on a Friday night,
Now, I'm feelin' so fly like a G6!


It's my day off. You figure it out.

Wacky Wednesday

Writing Day numoero dos! (that's "number two" ya 'mercans!)

Today is a WRITING DAY.... Writing Day.... writing day.... Did you hear the echo?  The kids will be at school, I've canceled my appointments and I'm spending the day with Aphra Behn. We anticipate a brief visit by Fanny Fern, that crazy bitch. I say that as a compliment(she knows this).

It is also Wacky Wednesday at the kid's school which means they are to clash in the name of school spirit. This week is Homecoming! Juliet, my leprechaun on LSD, will have no problems. Ben may need some help. I will supply sufficient guidance.

To the drawing board!

Come on Aphranny! Let's go reign the terror of sarcastic bitches upon the world!

Drunken Midget

Every Monday night after dinner, my daughter dawns her tights and leotard, throws tap shoes and ballet slippers into a backpack and the three of us converge upon the local rec. center while Daddy goes to class. It's a pretty normal routine except that lately one of the other mothers has been bringing her entire litter with her. Just to set you up; the one in the dance class is the oldest (5 years). There's a smaller munchkin, a smaller-than-the-last-munchkin and the tiniest, teensiest little rug rat of them all is this funny little girl in diapers with small bones and big curious eyes who walks around the entire time like a drunken midget. She's extremely mobile and extremely tiny. In fact she looks like a baby version of Mr. Potato Head because she has little arms and legs sticking out of the normal, one year old, well-fed, torso. She doesn't talk so much as mumbles, gurgles and spits with the occasional squeal of delight, very reminiscent of a drunken, "WOooo Hooooo!!"

Last night she toddled around, very unstable but determined to stay in the party. She fell numerous times just because she wasn't concentrating on standing, tripped over her mommy's leg completely unfazed, followed a trail of cheerios left by her sister, tried to find her own cherrios among her brother's crayons and stared a large man down until he finally looked her way then she gurgled at him awkwardly. We were all embarrassed for her. I would bet she even pissed herself later in the evening. Tsk. Tsk. Don't worry world! I did the right thing and told her mom to CUT HER OFF!  No more Mai Tai's for that one! It's so sad to watch a hot mess realize she can't handle the bottle!

Click here for more Drunken Midget?

Pet the Monkey!

Right now, 7:15am in Kansas, it is devilishly dark outside. The house is quiet except for the mumblings of my daughter who is up too early for a day off.  Mmmm, my coffee is delicious. Sidd (our german shorthair-pit mix) is on the couch cuddling with a stuffed monkey and Prot (K-Pax) is on the floor sighing with jealousy.

Today is a writing day for me ... typically. The children, however, do not have school today so, writing will be a challenge. Not to mention, I'm nervous about turning in my first Grad Paper. I realize it will be just like any other, but that doesn't make me feel any better. I was nervous about my first undergrad paper and my first undergrad at a university paper, so why should this be any different? I like my topic and that can make all the difference.

Poor, Sidd. His monkey was stolen by my daughter. Now he too is sighing with jealousy.

Ah! I can see the overcast sky. The day is beginning and I'm ready for a second cup. Let my fingers be nimble, my patience by plentiful, my mind be sharp and my children be cooperative. This day will be a productive one!

Dirty Sundays

Well, it's Sunday and as always I begin to miss my blog by Sunday. I never really have anything super important to share after a day of hanging with the family, watching movies and reading, but just the same... HERE I AM!

I think, from now on, Sundays should be "Dirty Sundays". I'm going to do a little unnecessary censorship and cut out only enough words to make something sound dirty. I'm probably going to do this to a blog from the week or an old blog from long, long ago, or maybe I'll use something else, like an excerpt from some classic literature. It depends how I feel.

Since this will be my first attempt, I think I'm going to try it on the first blog I ever wrote on my beloved BLOGSPOT! Let the dirty begin!

I'm starting a Blog because I want to ____ a writer blah blah blah and you're already bored. Look, I have some pretty exciting things happen in my ____ and sometimes I just want to _____ them with the world. "Hey World! _____ this out!" kinda thing. Then there's that ever present, nagging _____ of professors in my head saying, "you should ____ something everyday" coupled with the fact that we ____ 2 hours away from our nearest ____ member and ___ing Grandma's ____ to date, is a demanding job. So, what you might find here is a combination of _____s on my crazy ______, ramblings about the _____ - journal style - and a general cataloguing of fantastic ______ and moments of _____ as I explore this murky ____. It's sure to be messy and with dedication, disastrous. Watch your step.



So.... feel free to leave comments. Or _____ comments. Or just go ____ yourself! Either way, I'm happy!

EAT ME!

Ok, so I gave up the poverty experiment. I couldn't do it. In case you haven't noticed I stopped after 7 days. It was to stressful. My son wanted to play chess at school - an extra-curricular activity that costs money. My daughter wanted to attend a birthday party across town on a day when my gas tank was empty. Gas & birthday gifts cost money. Plus I'm coming up on an oil change. Cha-ching!

It has become clear to me that people in poverty can't even afford to feel human. My heart goes out to them.  I wish I had a solution. All I have is an undeniable truth, resonating through those seven days, that being hateful to them certainly is not the answer.


You know? I'm not a big fan of the bumper stickers that say "Eat Beef!" They're so pushy. They make me not want beef out of principle. I feel like becoming vegetarian or pescetarian just to spite them. Do the owners of such bumper stickers really feel that meat consumption creates an "us" and "them" situation? That's ridiculous.

I think I might print a bumper sticker that says, "EAT WHAT YOU LIKE!," or perhaps, "EAT ME!"

But I think to really express how I feel when I see those "EAT BEEF!" stickers I would need one where "BEEF" is crossed out and replaced with "SHIT." Not as diplomatic, but so much more fun!

This post stinks.

Ughhhhhh....Sleep.... people need sleep!!!

I definitely need more sleep than the average bear. I can't even concentrate on one task at a time. I swear I went to my computer three times yesterday to turn on piano music because it helps me think, ... and since I wasn't.......... I forgot. Finally after a day of spacing out I remembered to turn on the music and successfully put in one whole hour of homework. I'm so behind.

I'm cranky damn it.

I realized, last night, over a frosty mug of beer, that I have lots of things in my life. Like most people, I have sleep, hygiene and sustenance. You know, survival stuff. Then there's the work hours, the family time, volunteer hours, classes, homework, exercise and marital work (if it's not on the list, it doesn't get done), and we're only really talking about the daily stuff right? Not the weekly bathroom cleanings and all that, which is fine since I don't really do that crap anyway. (Anyone know of a really good cleaning person?) So, I have all this stuff right and so does everyone else, I'm sure. The only bummer is that I don't prioritize them by what is most efficient. For instance, sleep and exercise helps the homework, family time and marriage. But instead I prioritize by what is most enjoyable. Frosty mugs of beer are one of those things, episodes of John Stewart and Stephen Colbert are some others... So I give up sleep, just for a few nights and before I know it, I'm exhausted again and choosing to skip out on exercise and my whole world slips down the toilet. This week the hubby and I were watching a borrowed season of Boston Legal. Ps, tv time does not count as marital work since it doesn't allow for talking or connecting, but hushing and leaving reality, hence, the shitter. I gave up on sleep, I'm ready to give up the gym and homework is slipping. ~Pooped again~

See, World. I know I'm not the only one. We get greedy, devour our own lives and then shit ourselves out. I'm shitting myself out all over this blog, can't you tell. Stinks doesn't it?

I'm going to bed. Maybe I'll clean this shit up in the morning.

This morning I prioritized. It looks good. I give it a week.

Dirty Muffins

Mmmmmmm. So I made these muffins yesterday and they were spectacular! I would like to point out that you should put a very small amount of batter in the muffin cups before adding the jelly because then it's easier to cover up. I did NOT do this. I put TOO MUCH batter in the muffin cups, barely was able to cover my jam and, you guessed it! My muffins exploded all over my oven.  -Ooooo dirty! I know.


This did not, however, effect the flavor. The result of this recipe is large, luscious, jam-filled, muffins. Hot and moist, just the way you like it. You know you want some!

I was a ___stitute today! The kids loved me!  No, really, my sub job went extremely well. I wasn't even nervous which is not normal for me. I'm am usually either nervous or I'm not nervous but don't do very well. This time, however, I did great and wasn't nervous in the slightest! I found this great article online and decided to give it a try. I'm not saying that it is the sole reason for my successful day, but it certainly had an effect.

I told myself that I would be successful today and I was. That is way too easy.

Cheater Cheater!!!

So, I'm making muffins today. YUM! You want some?

Here's the recipe:

PBJ Muffins (on the back of Pillsbury All-Purpose Flour package)

2 cups All Purpose Flour
1-1/2 tsp Salt
1 tbsp Baking Powder
1 cup Milk
2 large Eggs
2/3 cup sugar
1 cup Creamy Peanut Butter
1/3 cup Vegatable Oil
1/2 cup Jam or Preserves of your choice

Heat oven to 375F. Grease muffin pans. Stir together flour, salt and baking powder in a large bowl. Add milk, eggs, sugar, panut butter and oil to bowl. Combine ingredients on the low speed of an electric mixer, just until moistened. Do not over beat. -he he that's what he said!

Fill prepared muffin cups evenly with half of the batter. Place 2 level teaspoons jam or preserves in the center of each muffin. Evenly divide remaining batter between muffin cups. Sprinkle with sugar. bake for 18-20 minutes. Remove from the oven: Cool in pan 5 minutes.

Makes 12 muffins. Booyah!

Georgie Peorgie

Holy Hell, where did the day go?  I thought about blogging at least ten times today.  And every time I was busy doing something else.  The good news is that I'm caught up on my required reading, just not my journal entries. I'll get there. I may have to cheat the blog a bit this week. It's going to be crazy.

I actually got called to sub!  Once again I'm excited and nervous - anxited. I'll be subbing for a middle school math class. I KNOW, I KNOW, "but your an English Geek" you say. Well I sell my services to Math teachers as well. I'm an equal opportunity ___stitute. I gotta make money somehow, World!

Okay. Here is what you have all been waiting for. I don't think I got this concept from him, but he definitely says it better than I have to date.

Without further ado:

George Carlin