Funny-Free Friday

Hey, you got Zombies a few days ago...let's not get greedy.

So here I sit on the couch. Sick. Again. WTF?

This is the third time in approximately five months that I've spiked a fever. No idea what's up with that, except for the fact that when you work in a building with 350 other people, you're going to contract some exotic form of Funky Gumbuddha on a regular basis.

Hot, cold, headache, sore throat, can't sleep...I am actually hoping this is Swine Flu. Let me get it, and get over it already.

My brother-in-law in ChiTown is a cop. And he has swine flu. Does anyone else find this extremely, ironically humorous?

Best Hub in the Universe is taking good care of me: Food, fluids and letting me have the good side of the couch. (Altogether now, "Aww").

This post has exhausted me. I'm going to watch reruns of Glee on Hulu.

Peace out, Peeps.

Will you just get OVER yourself?

She was on there again this morning. The perky little bleached blonde dietician, who shows up on the news ever so often to preach moderation.

Oh, puh-leeze.

Know what her thing was today? Halloween candy. Halloween candy, kids and self-discipline. Like those three words had a DAMN thing to do with each other. She has a "plan," involving letting your child pick two favorite pieces a day. Or something equally ridiculous...and fast approaching child abuse, as far as I'm concerned.

One of the great joys of a huge bag of candy is...sorting it into piles. If The Little Kids do it once they do it a MILLION times...dump all their candy out into the floor and then, very carefully and with a master plan known only to each child, they sort it. Sometimes it's by color. Sometimes it's by size. Sometimes it's by type, or smell or theme. But this takes a LOT of work and a LOT of thinking and a LOT of fixing and rearranging. Sometimes, you have to eat a piece to make things even. Sometimes you have to trade a piece, in order to make YOUR pile or your COUSIN's pile look right.

And then after the lovin'...you put it all back into the bag in a jumble. So that, in a little while, you can do it again. Pour it all out. Sort it.

A digression...ten or 12 years ago, we were at a street festival in Fort Worth. The Nice Kid was about two. The weather was nice. The beer they were selling on the street was cold. The food was good. The music was GREAT. We were happy. And then, rounding a corner, we heard the gawdawfullest screaming EVER. I mean, there was a RACKET. And a crowd was gathering. Curious people, strolling up from the sidewalks and peering over each other's shoulders to see who was dying. Or being murdered. And standing there, in a doorway with her back to the street, was this child about six or seven (old enough to know EXACTLY what she was doing) screaming bloody...fucking...murder. Nerve-wracking, spine-tingling raucous NOISE, echoing off the the brick and concrete. And curious bystanders gathering by the dozens to see a street fight and instead seeing...an idiot parent.

Standing about three feet away from the child was a dad...over-starched khakis, sweater sleeves draped over his shoulders, TopSiders and a $300 haircut and he was holding up his wrist, looking at his Rolex. And every ten seconds or so he would say, "Now Suzy, only three more minutes in time-out!" And the kid would up the volume. While he stood there. "Now, Suzy, we must follow the rules. Only two minutes and 50 seconds in time-out!" And she'd get a little louder.

If there was EVER a time a kid needed a jerkin', that was it. She had him SO where she wanted him...and there was no doubt in that entire crowd's mind who was in charge. But, by George, that dad was following the book. No exceptions for circumstances or other people's ears or too much sugar or...whatever. "The Book Said..." So there he stood, looking like the world's biggest dumbass. While the snickering crowd was standing there thinking, "Just BEAT THE KID'S ASS and be done with it!" Sometimes? Common sense trumps The Book.

Halloween comes one time a year. It is as much about costumes and parties and trick or treating with your friends and pumpkins and lights, as it is about candy. The candy is nice but it is NOT the focus...unless some tight-ass parent makes it so.

Let them have it. Halloween will be on a Saturday this year. My kids will eat all they want Friday (trunk or treat at school) and Saturday. By Sunday? They'll be getting tired of it, the good stuff will be gone and, believe it or not, their bodies talk to them. They'll be having eggs for breakfast. I'll have a good dinner, and they'll be eating vegetables. We'll put a piece or two in their lunches for Monday. Monday night they'll eat a piece or two after dinner. Tuesday? I'll throw it away. Chunk the entire mess in the trash. And no one will notice for several days. When they DO, they'll be all "WHAT?" and I'll explain about ants or mold or something and...it will be over. That'll take care of it. Thanksgiving is coming and we're moving on to pilgrims and turkeys and The Big Kid's birthday and the rest of life and guess what?

Two days of candy didn't hurt ONE THING. Not one.

Forty-something years ago, The Big Boy's family was on vacation and they stopped at a Stuckey's. Someone let him buy a pecan log, that white nougat thing rolled in pecans. They got back in the car, he crawled into the back of the station wagon and...ate it. The entire log. And then? Threw up all over the cargo space. To this day? Hasn't touched another one.

For pete's sake...they're just kids. And I PROMISE you...nothing that happens to them as a result of over-eating candy for two days will have ANY lasting effect. Except for the memories...of the piles.

Back to Politics

* I'm going to spend next weekend in London (small part of a much larger work trip) at which time our Blogger BFF Le Laquet is going to make sure I'm well fed, by meeting me for dinner at a Pakistani restaurant.

Does an American consuming Pakistani cuisine on foreign-but-friendly soil make me an Enemy of The State? Will I be allowed to return home? Stay tuned.

* What if I go to a Persian restaurant while I'm in Frankfurt? Does Angela Merkel cancel out Mahmoud I'm-a-dinner-jacket?

* My Hamid Karzai Halloween costume totally fell through when I couldn't find the right hat.

* Thanks, Sarah Palin, now I have to burn my red fleece jacket. Bitch ruins everything.

* What's the opposite of the Midas Touch? The Palin Touch. Copyright CityGirl 2009.

* I just realized why I'm not bankrupt: I'm "too big to fail." Seriously, over the past 15 years, the more weight I've gained, the better I've done. Coincidence? I think not. Pass me a Twinkie.

* Less funny point: So Obama got the Nobel prize for peace. Let's all get over it. Have you heard of Austin Heap and Haystack? If you haven't, you should. Makes me ask myself what the hell I've done lately for the greater good.

* I'm breaking up with the mainstream media. It isn't you...it's me. Okay, yeah, it's you. Loser.

Henceforth, all information about the outside world is going to come from The Daily Show, Wonkette and The Onion. I'll be stoopider, but happier. Join me, won't you?

Belated Funny

Now, this is true love.

What are the chances that you'll find the one person in the world, besides you, who has dreamed of their big, white day including a Zombie Wedding Cake?

A Protestant in the Lord's court...

...or me at mass.

Never mind that I've had a kid in Catholic school for...'94. How long's that been? Fifteen years? Everytime I go to mass, someone threatens to brand a large "P" on my forehead because...I keep getting confused. Or in this morning's case, when my mom was there, too...tickled. We good lapsed Methodists seem to be a little short on reverence. Or at least, slow learners.

Catholics still take communion from a communal cup (you think?). And in this day and time (there were only five kids present in pre-K because of illness) this just freaks OUT some Methodists. Methodists use those tiny little individual glasses in silver holders...although now, they're plastic and we just throw them away each week.

So Father picks up the first chalice, fills it with wine and then...pours in a few drops from another bottle. My mother leaned over and said, "I hope to GOD that was an antibiotic." And I snickered, "Well, in HERE it is. Holy water." We snorted and laughed into our hands and enjoyed ourselves immensely. We may be IGNORANT but hey, we're funny.

THEN, they say the Lord's Prayer. Now, I shut my kids up about this REAL quick a long time ago. But. Protestants have a phrase, "For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, forever," stuck onto the end of the Lord's Prayer. So you can always TELL where the Protestants are sitting because, after "Deliver us from evil," the Catholics STOP. And the Methodists keep praying. It's possible we need more help ;)

First time my kids ever complained I explained in NO uncertain terms...IT'S THE LORD'S PRAYER. They had it first.

But we still forgot and kept going and then snickered at our ignorance some more. Sheesh...you can't take some people ANYWHERE.

When it was over, I felt better. (Mean Girl dilemmas in The Institution.) Fourth grade (The Not Nice Kid's class) held mass today, which means our kids read and sang. After attending one of these masses you KNOW why Catholics are always Catholics...the kids are involved from day one. It's not like Methodists, where the kids are expected to show up, shut up and sit down...mass is a communal effort and at some point in time, everyone participates. It works very well.

And besides, these parents pack coolers for BIRTHDAY PARTIES. You gotta love them that are right with God. I know I'm fortunate to have known them.

End of Days - Part II

I have a bone to pick with Sts. Matt, Mark, Luke and John.

Well, not so much the picking of bones...and nits...as a request for the addition of a 13th sign of the end of the world.

So, from what I remember of vacation bible school, signs of End Times include, among other things, a single world currency and a single "pure" language as well as the rise of the "Evil One."

Check, check and check.

Single world currency? Arms. Weapons are de facto currency. Is there an unarmed country on Earth? Hell, even the Swiss have knives and fondue forks.

Single pure language? Binary code, my friends. Ones and zeros.

Rise of the Antichrist? I give you...Windows Vista.

My addition to these signs is this: Man will be enslaved by the fleece of a false creature.

The Snuggie.

I thought - THOUGHT - I understood the extent to which Snuggies had infiltrated society, but the illusion was shattered while I was standing in line at Walmart the other day.

There, on the home field of evil, two kids - boys aged maybe 12 and 14 - practically BEGGED their mother for Snuggies for Christmas. For Christmas. As gifts. They didn't beg for Halo 47, didn't beg for Megan Fox bed sheets. They begged for Snuggies.

Since when do preadolescent boys plead for synthetic, sleeved blankets? Seriously. Even NFL-emblazoned Snuggies aren't whine-worthy. How do you explain this? Hell, how do you explain Snuggies worming their human contact-destroying way into popular culture?

The First Chicago Snuggie Pub Crawl? Really? I'm guessing everyone went home alone that night.

Snuggies for dogs? Snuggies for babies? Whatever happened to keeping warm by cuddling?

Pure evil.

And is it a coincidence that these things look like clerical robes? I think not.

Consider yourselves warned, people. These are dark times.

Be strong. Do not fall to temptation!

And if you already own a Snuggie, REPENT! Get thee to a department store and buy a natural wool blanket! Throw it over yourself and your loved ones and cuddle! For the love of God, CUDDLE!

The mood? Is not good. I have literally reached the point of having so much to do that...I am doing nothing. Absolutely, nothing. I'm on my second glass of wine, that I started drinking in order to make the reuben I bought more palatable. Considering it came from Arby's, it's only half-bad. But they put some funky spicing on it...a little too heavy on the apple pie spice, I be thinking. So I came home and put more kraut on it because...kraut fixes a lot of things. Starting with reubens. But then the wine was sitting there and...it happens.

The day started out okay...The Nice Kid gets her braces off Dec. 7. Great news!! Except that she will be gone to Disney World with the school chorus from Dec 1 until the 6th...and exams start the 7th. Cross your fingers...looks like Dec 7 exam is...CHORUS!!! We can do this. But I better write it down...right now.

TNK has basketball practice for two hours five days a week, and tennis for 2-1/2 two days a week. And since we're in soccer tournaments, The Not Nice Kid has team practice two days a week and one-on-one with coach two days a week...and her basketball practice started three weeks ago...ON TUESDAY AND THURSDAYS so we won't be seeing THOSE people for another two weeks.

One sport a semester...I swear. It's the overlapping that's killing us.

Shit. I bet they're supposed to be doing homework sometime in here, too.

And then yesterday was like...a Halloween preview. I got up, pissed off at The Big Boy, and was trying to get to a place to call my friend Mary and BITCH, because she'll listen and agree and then let it go. But then the phone rang and it was The Mary. We bitched a LONG time. And on the way to school pick-up I called friend Robin to see if she would be out of town with us, soccering, this weekend and turns out...she had posted that same question on Facebook about five minutes earlier.

Life is good when you and your friends are so well-trained. Except my friends are FUNCTIONAL and I'm just...inert.

Point being? I have nothing funny or interesting to tell. (I am hoping someone beats Balloon Boy's ass soon. And then fines the HELL out of his parents...along with some community service in a place to make them appreciate safety and security and...life somewhere besides a stage. But that kid needs his smart mouth mashed.)

And then 22 down in yesterday's crossword puzzle had the clue "walk unevenly" for the word...lisp. No lie. Tom pointed out...maybe they meant TALK unevenly. Maybe.

MAYBE it's not just me!

Cancel the APB

Okay, okay...I'm back.

Call off the dogs.

So, you're probably expecting me to post something profound after all this time away.

Well, in the immortal (HA! get it?) words of Edward Cullen:
I hope you like disappointment.

Edward Cullen. :: dreamy sigh::
Jacob Black ::moisture::

Only 30 days until New Moon opens! :: giggle::

I am officially several degrees past merely embracing my inner 14-year-old.
I'm now actually squeezing her and jumping up and down, while wearing bubble gum-pink lip gloss and skinny jeans and, like, totally listening to the Jonas Brothers.

:: squee!!!!::

C'mon. You missed my random adolescent outbursts. Admit it.

Insert smiley face emoticon here

Domestic bliss...

...or I Need To Get The Hell Out Of This House.

I bought a CrockPot. I am 53 years old and have never owned a CP. It is sitting in the middle of the den floor while I one...am appalled at how damn BIG this thing is....I had in mind RIBS as opposed to, oh say, an entire BODY. And two...WTF? I don't want a CP. I'm guessing I just go stock up on an excessive amount of canned soup and inferior cuts of meat. Maybe I should have researched this. But we have three days a week where people come and go over a four-hour dinner period and...we need a pot of food. That can just sit there. We'll see.

The Nice Kid screwed up on her grades, and I went in to suspend her cell phone account and...couldn't do it. Not for HER but for ME. The Mama wants to know WHERE you are and with WHOM at ALL times. TNK was deeply offended last week when I made her send me a picture of her out-of-town surroundings. I really just wanted to see if the accomodations were as nice as what I was paying for, but she assumed I was checking up on her. Hadn't occurred to me before then ;)

There needs to be a new plan concerning the overweight dog because best I can figure, pouring sausage grease over his expensive Fat Dog Food that he hates, so that he'll eat it, is...potentially defeating the purpose. I'm just sayin'.

The Not Nice Kid had complained about the big toe on her foot hurting. I figured, ripstick accident with no shoes. Blew it off. Blew it off some more. After listening to her WHINE for an entire NIGHT last week I looked at it and...damn. Infected. Dosed her up with antibiotics, soaked it in hot salt water, elevated it, used SAID's for when she had to wear shoes and then...looked at the shoes. Went from a kid's size four to a women's size 6-1/2 in her soccer shoes. Her TRAVEL soccer shoes because she plays four days a week and...her shoes were too little. Just a little more tarnish on the Mother Of The Year crown.

Today is high school homecoming and...do you know I cannot REMEMBER my high school homecomings? At all. I know there are some awesome stories...we had a carpenter-in-training who made our senior homecoming the greatest ever but I only know that because someone ELSE remembers it. Thank you, God, for digital cameras in my kids' lives...no, in MY life for the past ten years.

We potentially had a FREEZE last night!!!!! Like...COLD WEATHER!! I am so psyched...I may run out and cut some wood. (I never HAVE, but I COULD.) And socks...I need to go buy some socks. Haven't been outside to check but...just the notion is exciting.

I hope someone kicks Balloon Boy's parents' ass. Collectively.

We have another orphan...an abandoned kitten. Barely alive. On our way to spend God-only-knows on kitten formula and a nursing bottle. Oh! Hey! THERE ARE ONLY SEVEN OTHER CATS HERE. I live in constant fear that the first time I get sick? My kids are going to assume it's only natural to flush me, feed me to the animals or bury me in a shoebox. I think I'll make them read...what's the EAP story? The movie has Vincent Price...he buries his sister alive...the boyfriend tries to...Usher, House of Usher.

Y'all make sure I'm not breathing.

Return of the Friday Funny

Here...a little cultural enrichment...

A friend of ours who works with nuclear energy sent this...my sister attached a note telling me to show it to my kids...she wants pictures of nekkid men.

This is the Hoover Dam Bridge Bypass...

Particularly irksome today...

...Josef Stalin's grandson. Suing for libel over his grandfather's "honor." Puh-leeze.
...The reunion email from The Big Boy's undergraduate school. With notices of several different functions including...Black Alumni. I'm sorry y'all but...TBB played college BASKETBALL, for pete's sake.
...Today was my get-something-done day. The housekeeper didn't show up so I automatically took that as a bye. My bad.
...It's October 14 and there are STILL no old scary movies on tv. AMC? TCM? WTF?
...Raffle tickets. Is this a fall thing? I either need some cash or a 35" television because I sure as hell have PAID for them.
...Obama and the peace prize. It was a tribute. Take it for the good intentions and LET IT GO. That horse is past dead.
...Me sitting here still playing online at eleven o'clock. Last SPRING I bought a sewing machine (another one) in order to embroider my kids' initials on their school uniforms.

I think I'll go take it out of the box. The packing box, that would be.

Why Martha doesn't feel threatened...

How cool is THIS? I mean, for real...is this not the greatest Halloween decoration EVER?

I seem to be the only one not bothered by the fact that it's a FLY STICK from out in the garage.

An open letter to the CEO of AOL...

...actually, an open letter to ANYONE in business. I know it's real easy for me to sit here and criticize, but some of this stuff is just so damn SIMPLE. Play nice. Share your toys. Leave it better than you found it. Works on the playground...ought to work in retail.

I thought we were friends. I really thought you liked me.

I have to be one of the few existing dinosaurs...I signed up for AOL 14 years ago, and have been a paying customer ever since. Being a creature of habit, I'm going to be really hard to run off. I do wish you'd stop trying so hard to do so.

My pictures? The pictures I uploaded to AOL for YEARS? Pictures of birthdays and pumpkin parties and vacations? Pictures that mattered to me and mine? I got up one day and lo and behold...you decided you weren't doing pictures anymore. That many years of my life, conveniently located in one place and...oops. Changed your mind. Screw me.

You DID offer to sell me a CD with all MY pictures on it. That works...as long as they're in one place again, I can live with that. Only guess what? You couldn't sell ME a CD because...I HAD TOO MANY PICTURES.

WTF? You're only selling pictures to those customers with 25 photos or less? Those with 25 or less can DOWNLOAD their own damn pictures...no one but someone like me (with thousands of pictures) NEEDS a CD! If you need advice? SELL ME TWO. I'll buy them.

Did I...miss something here? Is this not...backasswards? Is this not the epitome of cutting off your nose to spite your face? And THEN...in case I wasn't confused enough...after you moved my pictures and then refused to sell me my pictures, you moved them to a website that...get this...

...only lets me download one picture at a time. My pictures. One. At. A. Time.

I hope they pay you a lot.

In 1994, I had been out of high school for 30 years. I haven't even figured out what I want to be when I grow up, but we had a reunion to plan. So I went into MY AOL, and started a blog. I loved the site...it was easy to use and after I got the hang of things, I was on a roll. We hunted down pictures from first grade, pictures from the senior trip, pictures from ballgames and proms. We hunted down people we hadn't SEEN in 30 years, and got messages and notes and pictures from them.

And slowly, day by day and week by week, I put together one hell of a reunion blog. It looked good. Other classes used it as an inspiration for THEIR reunion blogs. It was a good thing. And then...you got out of the blogging business, too. You very kindly moved it to another server...Blogspot, but the problem is I have THIS blog on Blogspot and...two different sets of people. And some of those reunion people do NOT need to be knowin' some of the stuff that goes on here.

I'm just sayin'.

So now we're at a crossroads. I love your virus protection. I hate waiting on MY content to load while I watch YOUR ads. I love being able to reach every place I frequent in a couple of clicks. I hate clicking on a news item on your opening screen and then being expected to wait and click three more times (I don't.)

The deal breaker? My calendar. I have a child in junior high school, and every move that child makes is college fodder. The out-of-town tennis matches. The assisted living volunteer work. The Sunday school class she teaches. The science competition....I'm going to have to have all this information at my fingertips.

And now I'm afraid to trust you. Because I've trusted you twice before and...you people don't seem to be playing with a full deck.

Or at least a deck with pictures on it. And I don't have time to keep up with two calendars...there are actually TWO kids here I have to worry about, and I CAN'T AFFORD TO LOSE THIS INFORMATION. And I hate looking over my shoulder, waiting on you to pull another stunt.

This seems so simple. So very simple. (But then...I never understood handing billions of dollars to people who had already LOST billions of dollars, and telling them to do with it as they please, either, so...obviously you economic geniuses know something I don't.)

So I'll look around. Maybe I really DO need a complicated cell phone to keep up with my life. I didn't think so but then, I don't think any of THIS makes sense, either.

You people need to go talk to the bourbon people. They know how to run a business ;) And they've been keeping me very happy for a very long time.

A long time ago...

...my little brother had this girlfriend. She was the first real girlfriend...the one who is part of the family and around for a long time. They broke up, but she babysat my oldest and was just...part of our lives. It's how things work in the country. Haven't seen her in a while but (Thank you Facebook!) now she's handy again. She sent this and it's fun because we have so much history. And today? I've got to get a kid to the doctor for a sports physical so...I can't be writing ALL day! ;)

Honestly!

1.What was the last thing you put in your mouth?
Cheerios. I'm going to see if they can change my life, like the commercial says ;)

2.Where was your profile picture taken?
Fourth of July, at George & Ann's pool...I'm desperately looking for a decent picture that doesn't involve alcohol but so far, no luck.

3.Can you play Guitar Hero?
Never tried...but my kids and relatives have MARATHONS.

4.Name someone who made you laugh today?
Me. Threatening the Florence City School system if they don't stop sending me a letter everytime my child misses a day of school and I don't send an excuse. I'M THE PARENT. I don't have to tell you shit.

5.How late did you stay up last night and why?
(Dawn: 11:30. Reading the Flat Belly Diet book...Let me know how that goes!..Amy)
I was in bed at 8:30...because I got up at FOUR AM and drove to Tuscaloosa and sweated through TWO overtime tennis matches (not mine) and drove back.

6.If you could move somewhere else, would you?
I would keep my house here, and live in a different place in the world two or three months out of the year.

7. Ever been kissed under fireworks?
Ummm...probably. Can't remember so...THAT must not have been too big a deal!

8. Which of your friends lives closest to you?
Let's see...Brenda and Melanie, and my mom, are in Aqua Vista. Three miles.

9. Do you believe exes can be friends?
Ex-boyfriends? Yes...I have several. Ex-husbands? I hope he's burning in hell somewhere. Preferably hell.

10. How do you feel about Dr Pepper?
When I was little, it was a special treat to go to my cousin Pam's and have a REAL one...as in, in a glass bottle. With 10, 2 & 4 on the bottle.

11. When was the last time you cried really hard?
A long time ago. I'm afraid if I ever start now, I won't stop. Catching up, I guess.

12. Who took your profile picture?
Probably one of the kids.

13. Who was the last person you took a picture of?
Pariss, playing tennis.

14. Was yesterday better than today?
Well, yesterday at 8:30 I'd already driven for four hours and was looking for coffee. Today, I'm still in my pajamas and the pot's empty! That'll do.

15. Can you live a day without TV?
Any day.

16. Are you upset about anything?
Reference the attendance policy in the public school system here. And the woman with power issues THEY CAN'T FIRE because of her race. Something wrong there.

17. Do you think relationships are ever really worth it?
Of course. You may not realize it until you're oh...say, NINETY YEARS OLD...but that's really the only mark you leave.

18. Are you a bad influence?
Actually, I'd like to think I encourage people to experience things they might otherwise miss. Life's too short to be careful all the time ;)

19. Night out or night in?
In. I KNOW I should get out more but...I've done that. And I'm tired.

20. What items could you not go without during the day?
Hmmm. I miss the computer when we're out of town but, there's a laptop that I just don't hook up so I must not miss it TOO badly. Truthfully? I have to be able to see a clock at all times. There's one in every room in this house and I check the time on my phone more often than I check the phone.

21. Who was the last person you visited in the hospital?
I took AC to the emergency room a couple of weeks ago but...just visited? I guess Cousin Bill.

22. What does the last text message in your inbox say?
"How go." That would be B checking on the status of Pariss' final overtime match.

23. How do you feel about your life right now?
Time to get something done. One way or another.

24. Do you hate anyone?
No. I despise a couple of teenage girls but...they're easy to ignore.

25. If we were to look in your face book inbox, what would we find?
Mostly people asking what the HELL I was talking about. I tend to assume the world can read my mind.

26. Has anyone ever called you perfect before?
Good Lord, no.

27. What song is stuck in your head?
Something by Toby Keith about "an American man," I think. Must be on in the den.

28. Someone knocks on your window at 2:00 a.m., who do you want it to be?
I'm with Dawn...no one but Publisher's Clearinghouse better be standing there.

29.Wanna have grand kids before you’re 50?
Considering I was still having KIDS when I was 44?

30. Name something you have to do tomorrow?
TOMORROW? I haven't gotten through today.

31. Do you think too much or too little?
Too much. About stuff I can't change.

32. Do you smile a lot?
Actually, I laugh a lot. This place is a constant sideshow.

Goodness, at a week

I missed Monday night's welding class. They probably moved from rod to mig welding and I wasn't there. I'll be the dumb kid. Me and the guy with Parkinson's.

I MISSED it because I have the evil crud from hell. Croupy kid-like stuff in my lungs and I know I wouldn't want to be hanging around with me, so I stayed home and took some extra goofy elixer and went to bed.

My fuse has been really short...I was bitching to my friend Mary the other day. About the other pseudo-adult who lives in The Institution. She asked if I needed an intervention and I explained that, no...I just need a gun and a pardon. That ought to cover it.

The Nice Kid left today for a three-day USTA tournament in Tuscaloosa. She had her old racquet restrung, a new racquet, a new racquet backpack and $50 worth of snacks from Dollar General. Plus my credit card and best I can figure, they hit the pro-shop before they hit the courts and now we have a polka-dotted tennis skirt. Go, you. I sat in the parking lot after they left and cried...she's 14 but THIS IS THE NICE KID and she's never just...gone off. She's gone with friends and family before but in this case? She's just off for three days of vicious competition. Without The Mama. (Truthfully? No one but The Mama is bothered by this. Which just goes to prove that The Mama has done her job. Well.)

THEN I spent $60 on fruit for The Not Nice Kid's double header soccer matches in Huntsville tomorrow. Only to realize as I started home that IT'S GOING TO RAIN. Like They said it would. And we're going to be SICK of apples, oranges, bananas and grapes because...SIXTY DOLLARS? You're gonna eat it and be happy.

In the midst of this, City Girl is headed for a well-deserved vacation, as her professional life gets turned topsy-turvy AGAIN. Every time I get ready to enter the real world? Something bizarre happens in hers and I crawl back under my rock. I know the voices here.

While you're perusing, go peruse this. Our artist buddy, Don, is at it again and your life will be more interesting for having known him. For that matter, your life will be more interesting for having known his wife, Sue Ellen. Check her out at her place.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

In case anyone is interested in a buyout update - considering I have nothing else of interest to report - here's what I've learned so far:

The Good
It turns out Emerson is a pretty darn good company.

They were named a Top Place to Work in 2009, they are a $24.8 billion company which is roughly 20x larger than our company, and they had enough cash on hand to lay out $1.2 billion for us, without blinking.

Also, their CEO - if he is to be believed, and I think he is - is extremely interested in preserving our brand, which is great for marketing personnel (moi) and Emerson has left their last five acquisitions pretty much as they bought them.

So there is hope. I am hopeful. I may also be in denial, but that's okay...I like denial...it's pretty here. Ooo! Is that a unicorn?!

The Bad
We got bought. Duh.

Also, several of our product lines compete directly with their products. In some areas ours are the stronger offering and in some areas theirs are clearly better. It will be interesting to see how that all shakes out.

The Ugly
Lady Gaga. I mean, seriously, WTF?

Oh, Holy Hell

So how are you all doing today?

My company was just acquired by an even bigger global technology conglomerate.

This can't be good.

Anybody need a good marketing and PR manager? I might be available....

I can't afford to miss any more days...

After FOUR days in bed WITH A FEVER, I am an expert on a lot of things that explain what's wrong with the world today. JEEZ...is there a STUPID test you have to take to make television fodder?

Commercials are one of my favorite things on the planet, done right. (Budweiser frogs?) Done wrong? Can we say: Won't be buyin' THAT? Take (please) the Swiffer "Love Stinks" commercials with the jilted mop. Painfully intriguing the...first...time I saw it. Just painful thereafter. Creeps me out. Dirty mops stalking tidy women...is that REALLY what my life is supposed to be about? (If you know me, that's a rhetorical question. Which doesn't need an answer.)

Or the Progresso soup can thing? Ummm...that was interesting (not) when we were kids but...WHAT? The entire POINT of talking through two soup cans connected with a string was to figure out that...it doesn't work. At all. And what does that have to do with soup? Soup is supposed to taste good. Through your TASTE BUDS which are in your MOUTH and not your ears or...this one is just wrrooonnng. And dumb.

So then I switched to my old standby...bad bug movies. Only, it's October so instead of showing...oh, wait. Side trip here: The Nice Kid was home sharing-the-love/sickness Friday and they were showing OLD Twilight Zones and...this series should be required viewing for all responsible citizens. She learned more about the horrors of the Holocaust and the wonders of libraries and the injustices of the world in one afternoon of misery than in an entire week of formalized education. Or vice versa. I'm just sayin'.

AND THAT WAS MY POINT.

Television viewing doesn't have to ADD to your life (although it's nice when it does) but for PETE'S SAKE...don't let it DETRACT. The Bad Bug Movies? Whatever happened to Shock Theatre? I went online to find out and turns out...those black and white horror films we watched on Friday nights when I was a kid? They're gone. Physically deteriorated in the studios and warehouses in California. I remember snippets...one that stays with me was a B&W where a mad doctor kept waylaying travelers and transplanting his daughter's head onto fresh bodies. And then, because justice always prevails, the tower he worked in burned down and he went straight to hell. In good movies...there is a point and the good guy wins. You want angst? Stick to real life.

No sex. No one standing in place for an indefinite amount of time in order to give the sword-welder time to chop off his head and the camera-wielder time to navigate into position. No one TURNING AROUND to go back into the cursed church to save his high school ring. No ass, boobs or tongues. Just covert death and evil and that's where death and evil are SUPPOSED to be...NOT. IN. MY. FACE. Hiding covertly (which is what covert things do) away from all the nice women having illicit romances with dirty mops. Or something.

Obviously, I am OFF television for a while. Having given in to extensive antibiotics yesterday, I am (ooops!) feeling amazingly better today. Worrying about missing welding class tonight because if I DO I'll (gasp) miss intro to mig welding. And mig welding is my DREAM.

As opposed to a lusting dirty mop. I'm just sayin'.

Image Credit: MST3K

Friday Funny

The Roof is on Fi-yah

So. What did you do today?

*I* tried to burn down my house.

There I was, working in the dining room this morning, tap-tap-tapping on my electronic tumor when the power went out. Nice. Look out the window, find four city trucks up and down the street. Ah. They're working on the lines today.

Worked on the laptop for another hour until the battery died. Picked up laptop, power cord, BlackBerry, charger, iTouch and that charger, unceremoniously shoved them into a bag and headed to the library a few blocks away.

Called Hub on the way.

"The City turned off the power."
"Right. I forgot to tell you they're working in the neighborhood for a couple of hours today."
"No problem" says I. "I'm headed to the library - I'll work there for a few hours."

Here's the tricky part: A couple of hours is not the same as a few hours. The power was off for two. I was gone for three.

Before the power went out I was boiling eggs for lunch. Egg salad. Pot of water on the stove, few eggs, eye turned up to 'high.'

When the lights went off I failed to turn off the stove.

Left the house. With the stove turned on. On HIGH.

Three hours later I returned to the house and noticed the smell of smoke before I got to the front door.

That's a bad thing. FYI.

I don't really remember the next 30 minutes, but I managed to get the cats (who are all just fine, thanks) secured, the windows and doors opened and myself out of the house with only minor smoke inhalation.

No joke - three eggs filled the entire house (closets, drawers, every nook and cranny) floor to ceiling, with rank, sulphurous smoke. Have you ever been to St. Lucia? Then you know what my house smells like.

So here I sit, on the deck beside every soft furnishing I could drag from the south end of the house...trying to air it out. Load three of approximately 30 is swishing away in the washing machine and I'm trying to decide if it is too early for bourbon.

The freakiest thing? The house was filled not only with smoke but with FLIES. Like, FIFTY FLIES all swarming at the windows, trying to get out. How in the HELL did they get IN there?

It was like the Amityville Horror. ::shudder:: Yeah...it's cocktail time.

PS - That is not my egg. That is some other idiot's egg. My eggs are hermetically sealed in the pot in which they were cooking. The lid is actually fused to the pot. That was one hot motherlovin' pot.