When you gotta go.....

Some bathrooms should not be visited. Like, EVER.


However, I visited one tonight that was on that list just to prove to myself I could do it. And well, honestly, my bladder wasn’t giving me many other options at that point. So I trudged forth into the gas station in the middle of Nowhere, USA, to use it. I walk towards the sign that said ‘Ladies’, turned the dilapidated corner, ignored the broken tiles I walked over, reached for the rusty bathroom handle door and pushed it open.

And stood there in disgust as I looked every single thing in the bathroom covered in grime and layered with dust, including the space heater that I was a bit unsure why it was there. I look for the toilet paper & find one roll on the grimy covered toilet, looking like someone had put their claw marks into the ends of it. Luckily, they had another roll in a better location & less shredded that I started pulling on and lining the toilet sheet with. I may be brave enough to use that bathroom, but I am NOT brave enough to use that bathroom’ toilet seat without many layers between me and it.

Two pieces of toilet paper into my task, I suddenly hear a male voice & a lot of thumping on bathroom door. I pause with my third piece of toilet paper in hand and ask ‘Yes?’. Then there was silence for a second and then more pounding n the door ensues. At this point, I walk towards the door with my piece of toilet paper in hand and exclaim’ WTF?!’ I hear silence again and I turn back towards the toilet, lay the 3^rd piece down and get the 4^th piece ready and hear two guys talking really loud outside the bathroom door. I hear the other guy ask the original door pounder if he had knocked on the door and how he just had to wash something or the other (which I was desperately hoping was his hands). Then they finally meander away and I finish layering the toilet seat with toilet paper and proceed to do my business.

One more piece of toilet paper later to flush the toilet & a timid gripping of the bathroom door, I swung it open, walked to front of the door and looked at my husband with a shell shocked look on my face as he asks…

‘You ready to go?’

Uhh, gee dude, what was your first clue?

I don’t think there is enough Purell  in this world to make me feel less dirty & violated right now *sigh*

If You Can't Say Something Nice

....don't say anything at all, right?

Wrong! That is, that rule doesn't seem to apply to my husband.

Why? You ask? Well, let me tell you a little story of how my morning went.

I actually got up at 6A this morning to get ready for my work day and head in to an eye appointment at 7:45A. Anyone who knows me knows I am *not* a morning person, so this was a major accomplishment. Not to mention, it was also an accomplishment for me to find the eye DR's office, despite being there multiple times over the past 8 years.

Annnndddd......let's not dwell on how I get lost going somewhere I have been many times before....moving right along with aforesaid story....

I go through the myriad of standard tests they do there every time and finally have the optometrist come in to see me. He listens to me as I tell him about my headaches, does a few more tests and then announces that I am 'at that age' where I will be needing some reading glasses. After that announcement, my face did a slight contortion of sorts with the inability to digest that news, and then he hurriedly goes on to say:

"Well, it happens to everyone. Its just a part of the ....uh....process'.

I sigh. I still contort my face. He says a few more things to reassure me that I am not the only one in this predicament and then I pay for all this troublesome news and leave the DR's office.

I then decide to go to Starbucks and try to use the $2 off coupon I have for a salted caramel mocha. I order. I drive up to the window to pay. I then am asked for my Starbucks card. To which I reply:

"Really? I need my card? Oh well then......"

I was then told that it was ok 'this time', and they processed my order minus the 2 bucks.

As I drive away, I feel pretty good about getting my $2 off, but am still a bit bothered about my DR's appointment and text my husband that 'our eye DR sucks'.

Not too much longer he calls me to find out why and I tell him the whole sad story of how my morning there went. Suffice it to say, since he has had reading glasses for quite some time, I didn't get that much sympathy. So I moved the conversation along to my trip to Starbucks and was at the part where I had replied:

"Really? I need my card? Oh we.........."

And my husband interrupts and says, 'Oh, they probably just excused you because they realized you were at THAT age and getting forgetful huh'?

Uhh, yeah......the conversation was then abruptly cut short.

A Turtle

The other day I was driving home and had made it to the intersection close to our house, when I noticed a turtle in the road. I made sure to drive over it to make sure I did not kill it and decide to turn around to see about getting it out of the road. I drove back by it and as I was trying to find a place to park that wouldn't be in the way of traffic and/or people's driveways, I notice that it's shell *may* be cracked. However, ever the optimist, I made another attempt to find an appropriate place to park in an effort to get out and come to the turtle's aid.

I finally find a gas station to park at and start walking over to it. As I was nearing it, I started getting distressed that there were several vehicles about to drive by it. I watch a truck drive by it and breathe a sigh of relief when the truck avoids running over it. I then notice a small car coming up quick behind the truck and think that person will do the same thing.

Instead, as I was waiting for this car to pass so I can walk in the street and help the turtle, the young gal in the car runs over the turtle. There was no mistaking that the turtle had met it's demise, as I watched blood spurt upwards from the body.

There was ample room for that person to avoid the turtle, but yet she didn't.

Yes, I am animal lover. Yes, I wanted the turtle to live. But I was *not* impressed by the way she didn't even try to avoid it. I have to say, I was just as depressed about the cavalier attitude in her killing the turtle, as the turtle's death itself. Feels like a lot of people are being that way lately anymore - they are only thinking of themselves and/or totally oblivious how their actions hurt someone.

Or they just plain didn't care to begin with....

Ya Hear THAT??

Last night, as my husband and I sat in the hearth room being lazy with the pups and surfing the web, we suddenly heard a THUMP on the sliding glass door.

I look up from my iPad and ask my husband “What the heck was THAT?”

To which he noncommittally replies, “I am sure it was just a bug”

I sat there a minute mulling over his response, not sure if I should just ‘let it go’ and continue my surfing. Yet, I thought about the hummingbird that has been currently hanging out by our deck & trees lately, and suddenly started to worry that maybe it was the hummingbird.

So, after a slight pause, I answer, “But maybe it was the hummingbird?”

A slight sigh escapes my husband as he replies, “I doubt it. I am sure it was a bug.”

I sat there another minute and decided I did not like that answer either. Therefore, I got up, put my iPad down and went to the sliding glass door to look out to the deck. Yet, the deck light wasn't on, so I couldn’t see. Despite me clicking the light switch off and on and OFF and ON and…. well, the light never turned on, largely due to it being a motion based light of course.

Although I was hoping to be able to keep the sliding glass door as a barrier between me and whatever was out on the deck, I resigned myself to the fact I *had* to open the door to find out. I reached for the door handle and slid it open as the pups charged out to the deck, waved my hand in front of the light and…

I hear something BZZZZZZZZ loudly and barrel into my foot with a loud KERRTHUMPPPP!

And what do I do? I yell…..and scream….and slid the door shut all within a matter of 10 seconds.

And as I am whimpering and feeling sorry for myself, my husband calmly says, “I told you it was a bug”

I glare at him and reach for the door again to let the pups back inside. The oldest pup comes in, but there is no sign of the younger one. I bravely poke my head out calling her name and all of the sudden she DOES run inside but with a HUGE winged creature in her mouth and starts chewing on it on the hearth room floor and I go through another round of screams, cries, whimpers and more.

And listen to my husband snort with laughter and say “See? It’s just a bug”.

Hummingbirds

Apparently, I have a hummingbird. My husband has seen it. I am sure my neighbors have seen it. Heck, I think maybe even my dogs have seen it. But have I?

Maybe? I think I saw something flutter by the other day and was convinced that I had a hummingbird also. But….the more I sat there the other day waiting for that *something* to flutter by, all I saw was multiple dragonflies. Not one to be deterred, I waited – with the encouragement of my husband when he did reassure me that he *did* see one – only to holler at my youngest pup cuz she was eating an aforesaid dragonfly.

Yeah, so….

I am thinking I am going to have to start stalking my hummingbird feeder every day. I have been told they can be pretty social birds. But honestly, I think I freak them out, cuz I never see them. And honestly, I am a ‘lil miffed at them by now. They wouldn’t have food to stop by and eat if it wasn’t for me darnit!

OK, ok….breathe Lisa….breathe…..am sure hummingbirds don’t like angsty humans either…

Prince Charming

I have got into the habit lately of watching a show about gals going to a bridal store in NYC to pick out their wedding dresses. Most episodes are fairly predictable, but yet, I still hit the ‘play next episode’ button. I think it is because it is something I can watch to keep myself occupied with, but can more easily tear myself away from the episode in case my husband & I suddenly need to go somewhere.

But yet, I AM a woman, and even though I am a fairly practical one at that, I still like to ooooo and awwwww over the dresses, see how some of the dresses look on people and get somewhat caught up in the romantic idea of getting married.

So when I was watching an episode in bed (without my headphones on I might add), and the gal starts sniffling and talking about how her guy is her ‘prince’, I start sniffling as well.

I then look over at my husband and ask, “So are YOU my PRINCE?”

My husband looks at me quietly, then responds in a deadpan manner, “”No. I am your pig. And you are the pig farmer.”

I bet you all can imagine how warm & fuzzy that made me feel lol

Stoopid Gnat

Actually, the title is somewhat misleading. Yes, the gnat is stupid for bothering me, but I swear the gnats this summer have managed to take some steroids and vitamins to boost their ability to get away from humans before they get killed.

As I sit in my office this evening, I have swatted at a gnat about 10 times. And missed each time. I am typing and the gnat slowly flutters by my computer screen. I am not joking about slowly either, I swear if it was a human in the water, this gnat's speediness could be likened to a human lazily doing the breaststroke backwards. And yet, despite a brief hiccup in the lazy backward stroke it was taking, it still disappeared in the blink of an eye as I slapped my hands together in front of the computer screen. Since I did not see the gnat again for another couple of minutes, I thought I had already won the battle.

And then I saw it go lazily across the screen in the opposite way. And my hands slap together again with more gusto.......and I wait...

As I go through the process about 7 more times, each time trying to be quicker in my hands clapping together & therefore, by the end of the 9th time, my hands are pink and stinging from being clapped together so hard in an effort to kill the gnat.

After that, as I sat and stared at my stinging hands, I made the decision I was not going to care anymore. So what if I have a gnat fluttering across my screen? So what if I have an open drink it could possibly take a dip in and fly away leaving me disgusted at the what the gnat could have been doing in it? It is only a gnat. Heck, a gnat is an insect right? If it decides to take a dip and drown in my drink and I slurp it up unknowingly, then I will have won cuz I will have consumed extra protein for the day.

And as I thought that last bit, the gnat flew by right in front of my face and I slapped my hands together instinctively.

Stoopid gnat. I guess its bored. Leave me the f*ck alone lol

Some People Never Learn

For some of the people that have been following this blog a while (namely my husband & a few friends probably), there once was a time I blogged about my gladiolas. And my husband... and my husband killing them...

Well, let me just say this. Some stories NEVER end.

The day started out like any other day, yet ended tragically sad. I was in the kitchen and noticed a water bottle or two that needed disposed of. Therefore, I made the trek to the back yard to put it in our 'plastics' (ie recycle bin). But ya know, being the efficient sort of person that I am, I decided to empty the trash also and as the saying goes 'kill two birds with one stone.'

Easily impressed with myself, I walk out to the back yard with a trash sack in one hand and two plastic bottles in another. I sit the bottles down long enough to open the 1st bin's lid and then dispose of them and shut the lid. Since I now have a free hand, I open the 2nd bin to put the trash sack in, shut that lid also, and then turn around and go....

Uhhhh?? WAIT. Did I see something correctly? I reopen the bin's lid and see a gladiola, or rather what WAS one, laying on top of the garbage.

I shut the lid slowly. And stand there. And think...

SURELY my husband didn't just yank out the last two gladiolas I PURPOSELY left on the side of the house?? Maybe - just MAYBE - I saw wrong??

I reopen the lid yet again and see the stem of the gladiola laying there and the just the lid with a loud BANG and WTF??

So when husband comes home for lunch, I tell him I am concerned about something. Of course, he wants to know, but I insist that I have to show him. We walk to the side of the house and 3/4 of the way there, I can hear him say 'uhhh, I think I know what this might be about..."

And then we make it to the side of the house where I go, "do you know what is missing?'

Only to have him say, 'Damn that rabbit...."

Uh huhh...

Yeah, DAMN that oversized furry faced RABBIT my ....

Anywayy...

Moving on =)

Mr. Hedgehog

My pups have each found a new toy that they are in love with - Mr Hedgehog. Actually, there are *two* Mr. Hedgehogs in our house, both barely the size of a tennis ball and each a different shade of brown. However, one of the hedgehogs has apparently lost it's 'voice' (aka squeaker inside). In dog world, having a hedgehog without the ability to squeak it's distress at being slobbered and munched on is..... well... it is just not as fun.

Therefore, the quieter lighter colored one has been kinda forgotten about and the pups have been sharing the other. Although, since they are sharing one Mr. Hedgehog, it means that when one tires of it, the other picks it up. And the cycle repeats.....and repeats....and...

Well, y'all get the point =)

So when Mr. Hedgehog made his appearance the other night when I was trying to watch a show, it was expected. I was even ready for the irritation I felt about not hearing my show over the squeaks of Mr. Hedgehog. However, I was not ready for the response I got out of my oldest pup when I glared at her.

My pup looked at me. Blinked. And ever so slightly applied pressure to Mr. Hedgehog for a slllooooowww squeak.

And stopped. And looked at me as I snorted with laughter =)

210 Nature Sounds

Yesterday was a stressful day. Heck, it's been a stressful month. I have been on the road for work for a good part of it, and then when I am finally home, we have two epic snowstorms. And while in recovery/survival mode from the aforesaid snowstorms, I have tried getting caught up on other work while my body slowly falls apart on me.

Yeah, well...... moving on...

The point being that I needed to relax. I can be stressed out, ready for an early bedtime one minute and then once in bed, I am wide awake. So my initial remedy for it was to start listening to some flute music I had downloaded on my iPad once upon a time. However, after several days of it, I was getting to the point where I woke up and was like 'really? STILL playing that happy nonstressful flute music? gimme a break?? just quit.... QUIT....Seriously? play *something* else!".

Therefore, when I realized I was talking to my iPad like it has a choice of what it's told to play, I figured maybe I should start looking at some other CDs. So yesterday night, I downloaded another CD onto my iPad titled "210 Nature Sounds". I thought I had made an excellent choice - not only because the bits and pieces I previewed sounded good - but the ability to buy 210 songs for $9.99? Well, that's just a screaming deal if you ask me...

We will gloss over how long those songs took to download because the internet decided it had a stressful day as well and had turned in for the night. We will just go to the point where I realized I had downloaded enough of the songs to call it a night myself.

I turn on the CD and started with the sound of the ocean, the peaceful crash of the waves, a few birds randomly cheep quietly here and there, and then a minute into the song a seagull enters the picture. Yet, this is not like any seagull I have ever heard. I personally think this seagull saw a lady seagull on the other side of the beach and was trying to sound seductive. Which, and I hope no one likes seductive sounding seagulls, but that was just friggin disturbing.

Altho, in a sick & sad twisted way, it did help me sleep as this is what happened:

*snorts*

*mouth hangs open*

*exclaim WTF?! out loud*

*laughs hyserically until tears comes to the eyes*

*falls asleep because of the unexpected outburst of hysteria right before bed*

Crazy People

This afternoon I watched a movie called 'Crazy People'. It was a fairly old movie starring Darryl Hannah and Dudley Moore - the latter (the person he plays, not Dudley himself  - that I know of anyway =)) checks into a mental institution. At first he hates being there, but then gets close with several of the people there. One of which is a guy who constantly says 'HELLO". Admittedly, this was kinda annoying at first, then cute, then kinda catchy. So by the time the show ended with its 'HELLO' song, I was practically singing along (as my husband looked at me like *I* was crazy).

Promptly after, the what do you want to eat? I dunno, what do *YOU* want to eat? I dunno, where do you wanna go? started. After 10 minutes of discussion, 10 more minutes in a car to the nearby restaurant and another 30 minutes at the restaurant, we were headed to Walgreens for some much needed supplies for myself.

Husband takes off to see if they have a door stopper for my bathroom door that always closes on its own cuz our house has settled funky, and I was off to get some meds and kleenex. I am still wandering aimlessly about 5 minutes later when he shows me the felted pads he picked up in lieu of a door stopper. I look at them rather dubiously, but decide maybe I wasn't in the best shape to judge. I finally find my meds and then announce to my husband:

"I stuuul need to, uhh, ffuuuiiind kleenex'.

Kleenex was found, stuff was bought, and my stomach was already gurgling over dinner. And yeah, not the happy kinda gurgle, more like:

"REALLY? you *had* to eat this crap??" kinda gurgle.

Needless to say, we made it home in a little less than 10 minutes since my husband sensed (well, I kinda tipped him off by warning him I needed a bathroom) that I needed to get home ASAP.

I hurriedly enter the house and go up the stairs to our bedroom, which has a bathroom off of it, knowing I needed some privacy. No sooner was I in there and, uh, ready to take care of business then I hear the bedroom door open and then close, and then:

"Hello"

"HELLO"

"Hello???"

To which I pitifully reply from the bathroom: "GOOOO AWAYYYYYYY"

The Mysterious Card

Usually I find if a place I spend money at goes the extra mile to contact me afterwards to be fairly impressive. Usually. Sometimes it can be like really? I went there once, feel confident that you didn't suck that much and I will be back. But that's only sometimes...

So when I went to the mailbox today and found a card from a restaurant we ate at in Phoenix when we were there for work related purposes, I automatically was fairly impressed they went that extra mile. That is, until I came into the house and started opening the mail.

First of all, this card's envelope is addressed to my husband - which is fine, since he used the company card to pay for the dinner and I am sure that's where the waitress got his name from. Even after opening the card and looking at the note inside I was initially impressed. Then I reread it again. I then I got to thinking a bit...

First of all, this card is addressed to 'Scott and Wife' inside. Wait...What?? I am *just* the wife?? I have no name?

Calm down Lisa, I told myself. There is probably no way she could have known your name. But d*mnit! I have a NAME ya know?

Anyway! I moved on from that and started wondering how in the heck they got our home address. As I pointed out before, we used a company card. Hence, there is a company address attached to that card. Sooo....

I am musing over this information and then my husband starts mulling it over himself. As he was speaking out loud about how odd this was, I firmly state:

"Well, I dunno either. Your WIFE would like to know too"

He snorts and replies, "Seriously, I wonder how they got our address. I am confused."

I answer, "I dunno either. Your WIFE would like to know too"

He snorts and calls me crazy...

But seriously!? WTF? I am the WIFE! I have a right to know how my husband made such an impression that they went out of their way to find our home address to mail us the card.

In other news tho, we did receive a card from Jared's (jewerly store) today, too. Can't help but think they need to amend their slogan:

"He went to Jared's!"

to

"He really should go to Jared's!!!"

The Big Apple

Where to begin?

Well, I guess I should explain that the Big Apple is a restaurant we went to tonight. I should also warn y'all that you may want to stay away from the Big Apple. Well, you are free to try it if you like:

1) To be able to smell the strong smell of must and carry that smell with you on your clothes after you leave the restaurant.

2) To be directed to the extremely taped up seat by a waitress with a gun holster and a toy gun in aforesaid holster.

3) To sit down at the table to eat to see a picture of a steer on the table with a dark spot in the middle of its head that looks like a bullseye.

4) To be able to truly see what kind of restaurants they target for those restaurant makeover shows.

5) To eat meatloaf that is about 10% meat and 90% of something else you afraid to ask. Or know what that 90% was when your stomach starts churning a few minutes into the meal.

6) To eat the toughest chicken wings. EVER.

7) To realize that the old guy's cologne that he coated himself in smells better than the musty smell of the restaurant as you leave the restaurant.

8) To be able to say you lived to blog about this.

Tired of Pretending

Generally, I keep things fairly light hearted on here. Generally speaking, I feel that way. But lately? Not so much…

I am tired of being the person who remains quiet and let’s others voice their opinions about how horrible certain kinds of people are. I am tired of being the person who doesn’t say anything when those people outright insult me in the process. I am tired of so many people in this country making generalizations about groups of people. I am tired of being the person that always tries to be open-minded when around closed minded people. I am tired of people always taking from me and never giving back. I am tired of those people feeling like they have a right to do so.

In a nutshell……..I am tired of pretending. Why do I not get the respect I show other people? Why do other people look at my life and assume I have no problems? Why do people not care about my opinions and feel like it’s their duty to tell me how wrong I am? Why do I continue to let them?

Without being political, this last election has taught me something. I will *not* take this kind of attitude from people anymore. I will *not* care what people think of me anymore. I will *not* bother to explain to people how I feel when they quite obviously do *not* care how *I* feel. I will *not* reach out to people who think I am the enemy when they do not even know me and/or care to know the real me. I will *not* tolerate people saying it’s impossible to do this or that – OR saying that I do not understand.

I do not owe everyone a reason for things I do and/or have done. I DO deserve respect. From now on, I will not tolerate people who will not or are apparently incapable of showing respect. From now on, I will not pretend….

Do You Think I Am Pretty?

There are times a guy needs keep his mouth shut if he is unable to respond the way a gal wants him to. I sound harsh you say? Well, let me tell you a short story…

Husband and wife make their annual trip to the Harley Rally in Sturgis, SD. Husband is in 7^th heaven, despite having to rent a bike because his is in the shop. The wife tolerates it, and is not surprised that on the way back she gets a bad sunburn on her arm. Yet, besides this fact, the trip is fairly uneventful.

Husband and wife drop off the rental bike and are on their way back home about 4 days later. About 2 days after this, the wife’s arm starts to peel, exposing pinkish skin against the dark tan she got on her arm. She fusses over it, and it continues to get worse…

Husband and wife stop at a hotel for the night and watch a ‘Fresh Prince of Bel Air episode as they are about to call it a night. OK….ok….the wife tuned in initially to this show…BUT the husband *was* watching as the part came on where Vivian – the wife – goes:

o    Vivian: Do you think I'm pretty?

o    Phillip (husband) : Woman look in that mirror and tell me what you see.

o    Vivian: I don't know.

o    Phillip: Well let me tell you. I see every great thing a man could want in a woman. Eyes so dark and deep a man could get lost in them. Skin the color of mahogany, soft as satin. Body fit for a goddess. Look how beautiful you are. Look how beautiful you are.

And the wife sighs and looks at her husband and pointedly says:

“You should take notes”

And the husband replies:

“Your skin is like bark…. On a tree….all flakey and ….”

Wife smacks him.

The Cozy Corner

I wonder if our GPS is possessed. Heck, I wonder if my husband is possessed sometimes too. I swear he tests me on a daily basis. Need an example you say? I have three words for you…

The Cozy Corner

Oh, yes. The name sounds nice, but it’s the last place a priss like me frequents. And thanks to our lovely GPS, it lead us right by it while barking its orders at us in one female voice and then another.  No – I am not kidding about the two voices.  One sounds quite pleasant, the other is more grumpy and sounds like she has been smoking a carton of cigarettes a day for years and years. The pleasant voice dominates most of the time, but as soon as we hit the Montana line, Miss GPS starting spazzin’ on us.

Honestly, I am not sure whose voice we heard before we got to the Cozy Corner, but I was filled with such dread walking in the door that I think I have blanked it out.

The Cozy Corner *is* centered on the corner, but I am not sure you would call it cozy. It was a bar – a bar that obviously had no one coming by to check on them for health code violations – or ANY violations for that matter. As I walk in, I see three people turn around to stare at us and I instantly cringe. I feel like an outsider, and no matter how hard I might act like I belonged there, it was apparent I didn’t. This didn’t stop my husband any, as he walked up to the bar and asked if they had anything good to eat.

Gack…. I think…. *we* might be the food if they don’t like you saying that I think. But the stooped over bartender exclaims that everything is good there and gives us menus and we sit down at a table. I make the mistake of looking around and notice empty boxes lining half of the wall, a cardboard cutout of some cheerleader gal that is signed stuck behind those boxes and a fireplace with ‘Cozy Corner’ on it that apparently had flames shooting outside it judging by the black soot lining the wall upwards a few feet.

Gack… I think again….I am not sure my stomach can handle this place. I look towards the bar and see the sideways glances of the people sitting up there – weathered, scrunched up faces that were sizing me up.

 Gack.. I think once again …and I look at my husband as he tells me to relax and chuckles.

 *&^%$%$^”, I think, “I will show him” as I try to act nonplussed that I was there.

 I didn’t do a good job at it, because when I told him what I wanted to order, he orders me two shots of rum also. Which I think is fine, makes me look bada$$ right? Like I am not too prissy to drink something that hardcore right? =)

 Well, I did get my rum and diet pepsi (shush, even hardcore people drink diet pepsi! Uhh…don’t they?), altho I looked longingly at the glass wanting a straw so bad I am pretty sure I nixed any badassedness they might have all been initially thinking about me.

 BUT, the rum helped and I started to relax some. The food came and it was decent and most importantly, my stomach is not gurgling in utter frustration yet. And as we walked out the door, we were told to have a safe trip, which I found nice.

 Altho, I was a bit too eager to get to the truck and wonder if they knew something we didn’t and this trip would be my last, but…

 Oh dear, I am starting to sound like our GPS I guess…..

Romance Gone Wrong

Don't judge me, but I downloaded a romance book the other day. Nothing raunchy - just some light reading since I haven't picked up a book in months. And heck! I am a gal, that kinda stuff appeals to me ok?

Wait. I sound defensive I guess. I probably am that way cuz I was so friggin irritable by the time I was done reading the book. I am not a fast reader by any means, so even a 200 page book can take a bit longer for me to get thru than the next person. So I guess maybe I get a bit more grumpy if the book s*cked.

But honestly? There were several flaws to this romance:

#1 Their parents hated each other, yet they didn't care and continued their relationship secretly. Once the parents knew and one of the parents confronted the gal in the relationship with 'news' why he was against them having a future, she just took off. Uh huh.... vanished. Drove hundreds of miles away. Didn't question her guy's Dad at all - just believed him all of the sudden. I mean, what kind of moron does that? How in love could you possibly be if you didn't at least *question* the guy who was against you the whole time had to say?

#2 This gal eventually comes back for her Dad's wedding. She bumps into the guy she was/is so madly in love with and finds out he is pissed. First of all.... DUH??!! Second of all... why the heck didn't HE question why she got 2nd thoughts all of the sudden? Instead, he just feels sorry for himself. I dunno, but I figger *someone* has to be the grownup in this story right? Go friggin find her as soon as possible and question her why she is being a dumba$$!!

#3 Since these two bump into each other when she comes back for the wedding, they automatically wanna get down each others' pants. OK, fine. EXCEPT, the gal was told by her guy's Dad that she was his daughter. So that would make them half brother/sister and isn't that an instant turnoff? Excuse me while I go take a shower..... ickk...

Anyway.... I feel better... I guess...

Coexist

Flies piss me off. Ask anyone who knows me. I can be totally consumed with wanting to see them die. Hence, there is no way we 'coexist' with each other - we never will.

Unfortunately, summer seems to bring flies into our house on a fairly regular basis. The first fly of the year was a horsefly. Cuz, gee, we have to start the summer out with a BANG right? Anyway, this horse fly was one of the smartest I have ever encountered. He/she knew I was going to put a fly swatter in my hand even before I had it in my hand. It did figure 8's in the air right in front of me - taunting me that I was unable to kill it as my hands spazzed out left and right trying to swat at it. Then the fly would hide and make me think that maybe I had miraculously killed it.

Then another day would dawn and I would again look like a dork going through the same motions over and over and OVER again. Yet, one day I tracked it to the kitchen and watched it as it went behind the blinds.

Swat!!

*Buzzz* goes the fly.

SWAT!!!

*Buzzz* goes the fly.

SWAT! SWAT! SWATTTT!!!

*Buzzzzz, Buzzzz* goes the fly.

*whoosh, whoosh* goes the blinds.

I wait.

And wait...

And the next day the fly did his/her usual figure 8 in front of me.

*GRRR*

And after many hours of stalking him, I killed him/her by one of our fake plants...

Two days go by of fly-less bliss....

Then one of the slightly smaller ones began plotting its revenge....

State Farm

A few days ago, we got a package delivered on our doorstep. For me, it is always somewhat exciting to have a package delivered, even when you already know what the package will contain. Therefore, I see this package and squeal 'Oooo! a package was delivered!!!' and pick it up and take it into the house to look at the box more closely.

Once inside I noticed that it had a woman's name on the return label and the address it was shipped from was from Texas. In addition, this box is being shipped to my husband and not me. I sat it on the table and forgot about it for a bit until somewhat later when my husband and I were about to have dinner and were cleaning off the table.

Unable to contain myself any longer, I ask my husband what HE was getting a package from a gal in TEXAS for. He immediately looks perplexed and retorts that he has no idea and wants to know who it's from.

"Well, it looks like her name is Brenda!" I grumpily reply.

"WHO?," he answers.

As I snort my disgust with his inability to answer my question, I exclaim, "Fine! I will just open it myself and find out."

So I take it into the kitchen and find a knife to start opening it as he again asks me who it's from. As I am opening the box, I tell him again. And as I am almost ready to open the box, I steal a line from a State Farm commercial and say:

"She sounds hideous."

My husband realizes what is inside almost at the same time as I say this and starts laughing. Once I open it, I find about six light/dimmer switches he had ordered online for our house.

I stand there for a minute, say a simple "oh" and find somewhere else to be as my husband continues to laugh...

Mother's Day

What IS Mother's Day to *you*?

To me, even though Mother's Day has been created largely for the sake of companies like Hallmark, I still find that it is a day that ANY woman needs.

Yet, I do not feel that this day needs to be a day dedicated solely for women who have children anymore. Perhaps, back in the day it was created, this idea of what Mother's Day is would suffice. But today?  I really think we need to revisit what makes a woman happy, and sometimes that is *not* having kids or having a genetic Mom to turn to. To me:

• Sometimes having kids is having what women refer to as 'fur' babies.
• Sometimes having a kid is having a godson you make sure you are always there for if/when he needs you.
• Sometimes having a kid is having the maternal instinct to watch out for the neighbor kid to make sure he/she doesn't get into any trouble.
• Sometimes that maternal instinct will spill over into your friends as you watch out for them because you have no family to turn to.
• Sometimes it's that woman you turn to for answers who *becomes* your Mom regardless if your real Mom is alive and/or dead.

And sometimes? We should simply celebrate Mother's Day by recognizing the woman that we are, that we want to be, and the woman we aspire to be.