credit card machines of the world unite!!

Well, it's been quite the week. It actually feels longer than a week since I last blogged with all the shit I've had going on. I apologize for my absence, it's not that I didn't try blogging, it's just that I didn't have enough time to write a complete post at one sitting and when I'd go back to it later, the post seemed so pointless, I'd abandon it. During the week, the thought of taking a break from blogging crossed my mind more than once. I don't find myself having a lot to blog about these days and when I do, as I said above, I really don't have a whole lot of time. Anyway, onto the post...I'll start backwards first...boy, that sounded stupid. Heh.

My kids left around 7pm this evening on their spring break journey with their dad to a resort somewhere in the Florida keys. Not five minutes after leaving, my daughter called me for the first time, crying hysterically about how much she missed me. About an hour into their ride, the same thing. Hopefully, she'll settle down once they start having fun but I have a feeling this is going to be a long week. *heavy sigh*

So how am I trying to take my mind off of things? I'm watching Hot Girls in Scary Places. Yes, I've resorted to watching three bimbo cheerleaders from USC in a paranormal investigation of an old mental hospital. It's quite amusing to say the least.

For those of you who remembered, today was Friday the 13th. I didn't see any strange characters in beat-up hockey masks roaming the streets carrying threatening weapons but as far as I could tell, the world was conspiring against me! I had some errands to do and at three separate locations, the credit card machine one swipes their cards through stopped working as I approached the counters to check out. It was beyond weird.

Happy Pi Day to all who celebrated today! My son and some other brave souls in the middle school, stood up in front of the entire middle school to spout off as many digits of Pi as they possibly could. The other night, my son knew 37 but I knew that wasn't going to be enough so I found a site that had some more digits and thirty minutes later, he knew 50. Then I found the Pi Day site that had one million digits of Pi and I thought it would be so cool for him to do that! When he was younger, he had a photographic memory but unfortunately, he never worked on developing it so he lost his Midas touch. If he still had it, he probably could have taken one look at the long list of digits and easily recited them in front of his classmates. Alas, he made it up to 57 before messing up which is great in my opinion, certainly better than I could ever do! One of his classmates took home a $10 gift certificate to the school bookstore for reciting 150 digits. Not bad at all! The digits, $10 doesn't buy bupkis at the school store!

Earlier this week, my son's baseball team pulled off a gutsy win to their formidable opponents. I was actually kind of surprised given that there are some really seasoned players and some kids who are just trying their hand at the sport for the first time. But win or lose, this year especially, I've really enjoyed watching both my kids show their individuality and express themselves through their differences and likes.

So I guess that's it for now and for the time being. I will be around to your blogs when I can but don't expect any new posts from me. I'm not saying I won't write here and there, I'm just saying that for the time being, it's last on my list. Hope y'all are doing well and enjoy your weekends!

feminine hygiene 101 - douching is for pussies

Heh.

Okay folks, here it is. A real TMI post. Men, if you don't want to hear about females and their girlie regions, I'm giving you an easy way out. Right. Now.

So let me just put it right out on the table, ladies. Douching. Yay or Nay?

Have you done it and if so, did you really enjoy the three inches of the five inch phallic-shaped applicator inserted into your hoo-ha?! 'Cause I was expecting some kind of pleasure out of it and I got nuttin'. Much like I get when the gynecologist inserts a speculum. But I don't want to get ahead of myself.

For me, today is the day every woman looks forward to - her annual gynecologist appointment. A day of true celebration! I mean, how could a woman not celebrate her vagina?! Well, as much celebration one can do with gloved fingers, prodding devices and oily lubrication that doesn't wipe away for, like, a year.

So I'd never douched and after having no action for the past four years (yes really) other than the annual speculum oh, and now douching device, I was feeling a lot like a dusty attic with cobwebs galore! So hi-ho, hi-ho, a-douching we will go! Please allow me to take you on my journey which began at a local Walgreens and standing in the aisle with the douching products.

Who would have thought that there could be so many said products on the market! After standing there for twenty minutes, examining product after product, comparing Walgreen's brand to the name brands, I decided that I didn't want my hoo-ha smelling like wildflowers, so I opted for the standard vinegar and water. No not oil and vinegar! We're talking vaginas people, not salads!! No cucumbers were used in the making of this douching moment!

But this wasn't just a vinegar and water douche. No, this was an extra cleansing vinegar and water douche! Oh yeah! Yeehaw!!

For those of you who've never done it, allow me the opportunity to relay my douching experience to you...

It was gross, plain and simple.

Directions: Slowly insert nozzle into vagina about 3 inches. Gently squeeze bottle until liquid is dispensed. Do not close the vaginal opening (I'm not sure how one thinks they can actually close their vagina with a penis-shaped applicator is in it, but whatever...). Douching solution should flow freely out of vagina.

I would like to comment on that last part. The box should warn you about how much of that douching solution flows freely out of one's vagina. They should also mention that the douching solution is not room-temperature but more like a fucking ice cube has been inserted into one's vagina. If I had known that I was going to torture myself with a vinegar-scented ice cube, I wouldn't have fucking douched!

In conclusion, for those of you who are really eager to know, douching has not allowed me to feel fresh as a summer's day. If I was feeling all fresh and shit, I'd be sitting on the lanai at 6am on a breezy morning at the Hyatt Regency in Maui, overlooking the Pacific while sipping Kona coffee and reading a fucking mindless book. But all I'm doing is blogging while sipping my instant coffee, feeling like I could add to that salad I may eat for lunch later. ;)

Oh yeah...I'll let y'all know later if my doctor thinks I'm vinegary fresh later.

onto more important matters

This past week was quite hectic as my son's basketball playoffs began Monday night and what a week it was! This is one of my longer posts so if you don't care for long, detailed posts then I won't be offended if you choose to bypass this. Otherwise, grab your beverage of choice and let's get down to business!

Monday night's game was against a school that my son's team barely beat during the regular season. And, what seems to be our team's M.O., the boys started off strong and became progressively sloppy towards the end of the game. If they thought the first time they played this team was close, I'd say the final score of 32 to 31 was a tad closer!

But they pulled it off and they moved onto the next round. I was torn between who I wanted them to play - the Baptist school with a boy that was also on the school's football team this past fall who threatened to kill each of the boys on our team or the Christian school, who thought they were hot shit and they could beat everyone. The latter was also the school with the coach who had a big fucking mouth, the same man who once worked as a coach at my kids' school but was fired due to being arrested for DUI and trying to sell drugs to the students.

As luck would have it, Tuesday night we had to play the latter. Us parents rather despise this school for the coach mainly as he instructs his kids to play aggressively. Too aggressively. Within 30 seconds of the game starting, one boy turned around and intentionally pushed one of our kids down with great force. Us parents were so angry, we started screaming to the ref to take the kid out. He did not as the kid was brought over to the coach who either told him to calm down or to do it again, I can't be sure. Whatever he told him, he and another one of his teammates consistently pushed our kids around throughout the game, clearly not being able to control themselves. At one point, I screamed out at the coach that he needed to instruct his kids how to play the game properly. I'll say this...it was a small gymnasium, the noise didn't have far to travel and my negative words attracted the attention of the parents of the opposing team.

To demonstrate the anger problem these boys had, at one point during the game, another boy got tripped up by one of our boys, our boy fell and this boy stood over him with his fist drawn back as if he wanted to punch him! Folks, it was truly shocking how angry some of these 11 and 12 year olds appeared to be but then again, with a coach like that, it wasn't unbelievable.

I had brought with me what I refer to as my Bag of Distractions - a bag full of children's toy instruments that my daughter had collected from her old playthings earlier that day. At the first game of the playoffs, I told parents that I had such noisemakers and I was determined to do whatever I had to to distract the opposing team. At this second game, some of our team's spectators participated along with me and when the other school's team were taking foul shots, we were hooting, hollering, shaking bells, clicking sticks and our strategy was working. It may not have been the most appropriate behavior but it's not like we booed, hissed, told the refs they sucked (which they did), etc.. In fact, after the game, some bitch, a mother of one of the boys on the opposing team, told me from afar that I signed a contract at the beginning of the year that I would not say or do things that would constitute as being mean. I corrected her that I did not do anything that was mean and that she was one to talk since she had a son who clearly needed an anger management course or a few months in juvenile detention. I then turned to a friend and said that my son's dad had signed the contract this year so as far as I was concerned, none of those rules applied to me. *wink*

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Close to the end of the game, one of the pushers was injured. I'm not sure of the details because I looked away at the moment it happened and the next thing I saw was this kid laying on the ground, grabbing his ankle so I don't know if one of our boys unintentionally did something or if this kid was just an asshole and Karma bit him on the ass. I'm assuming the latter occurred.

All throughout the game, one particular ref was making regular traveling calls on our boys and our coach had had enough. Now keep in mind, that this is a man whom us parents never once heard yelling at our boys or instructing them in loud, unproductive ways while they were in motion on the court and how he was able to remain calm through the entire season, is beyond me. Anyway, he fought the call and threw a tantrum like no other! No two-year old with the Terrible Twos would ever be able to do a tantrum justice as this man did! The ref immediately ejected him not only from the game, but from the building! I wish I could have taken a picture of this but it happened too quickly! And the priceless expression on our boys' faces when they realized they had no coach was another missed photo opportunity!

I turned around and told the person who shall not be mentioned here, who was sitting a few rows behind me, that someone had to go to them. There were just a few minutes left in the game and they couldn't do this alone. One of the other fathers flew down from the stands like OJ running from the scene of a murder and helped coach the boys to victory. Actually, I'm not sure what he really did to help other than make sure the boys knew they weren't alone. We were not only very proud of our boys, but we were glad to have put this other team in their place especially since they had been boasting ahead of time how much our team stunk and that they were going to win with ease. Yeah, whatever you little fuckers. It was a perfect sight watching these boys walk away with their tails between their legs.

Am I mean? Am I insensitive to these children? Those of you who've been with me for awhile know that I have a hard time tolerating other peoples' children so please, especially those who deserve to be in a prison cell, so ask me if I care.

After the game, a few things happened. The opposing team's coach came out with his arm around the boy who had an ankle injury and the boy was clearly injured and was crying. My insensitive, bitchy, black-hearted side did not permit me to feel any amount of sympathy for him. Again, Karma. You do something negative, it comes back to you tenfold. Sorry y'all if that makes me a bad person but you had to be there to understand how I felt. Unfortunately for me, his mother overheard me and told me I showed unsportsmanlike conduct. Now, I will admit that there are times I can't control myself and this was one of them! I burst out laughing in her face and said "That's pretty funny coming from the mother of a child who can't control his temper on the court!". I continued to howl with laughter at her comment while I walked to my car! Let's just say that I'm surprised I haven't received any death threats since then.

I later heard a few other stories. A father of a boy on our team, who was exploding with some very loud, negative comments throughout the game, was approached by a father on the other team who actually pushed him! Now I'm not sure what this guy was thinking when he decided approaching a tall, 300 pound black man was a good idea but he did and extended his hand as if to shake it. So Ben, the father of a boy on our team, took his hand and held on tight as this man decided to call him an awful fan, blah, blah fucking blah, and Ben just stood there, holding on and smiling. Finally, this other man knew he was screwed when he couldn't get his hand out from under Ben's grip and actually screamed and pushed Ben away from him, trying to make it look like Ben was assaulting him!

As for our boys' coach, I found out from his wife that he was really mad about the score of the first game our boys had played. Afterwards, he told our boys that they were better than that and they have a tendency to become too sure of themselves and, in turn, slip up. As for the father who ran out of the stands to be with our boys in those last few minutes of the game, the coach had a discussion with him prior to the game that he should be ready as he was so angry he thought he was going to be kicked out of the game!

So onto the championships we went and Thursday night was the big game. Our boys were playing the #1 team and the only game these kids had lost during the regular season was to us so we knew we could beat them and our boys were pumped and ready.

Prior to the game, I made a promise to myself that I would behave! My whole reason for behaving "badly" at the second game was just because I hated the coach and his team and they deserved to be taught a lesson. Yes I know, unsportsmanlike thoughts. Whatever. If my religion believed in hell, trust me, I realize I'd already be there! Anyway, the father who was assaulted agreed with me and we went in there thinking may the best team win. Well, that was short-lived!

As it turns out, the coach of our boys' team had been ejected from the rest of the tournament and was not permitted to coach the last game. Prior to the game, he met with the father who had come down out of the stands and talked to him about what needed to be done. When our coach entered the gymnasium to sit in the stands with the rest of us, we gave him a standing ovation.

Thankfully, we had more fans on our side than on previous nights and we were loud, boisterous and well, a bit on the obnoxious side. After the second quarter, I abandoned the promise I'd made to myself and started the hooting and hollering when the opposing team was making their foul shots. Let me just add, that I was not the only one. There were people who were screaming louder than I and others who were actually stomping their feet quite loudly. To say that this game was intense, is putting it mildly! It was back and forth with our team ahead then their team ahead and then our team pulling ahead of them once again. At the final buzzer, it was tied and we were going into overtime.

Back and forth again and five minutes later, we pulled off the win and our kids were literally doing back flips on the court! And then...the shit started flying.

Two women, mothers of boys on the opposing team, came down out of the stands, stood right in front of me and gave me the hairy eyeball while they discussed loudly how obnoxious I was. Yep me, just me. But me being a team-player, took it for the team! With a smile on my face I gladly agreed with their observation before taking a generous sip of water from my bottle, I held it up as if to toast them and gave them a tooth-filled grin. Then, without missing a beat, I asked her if she'd like me to call her the WAAAAHHHMBULANCE and then told her to get over it, that it was a game and to grow up.

Well, I had done it again! Like the boys working it in overtime, my mouth was working it in overtime! This woman was giving me the stink eye like there was no tomorrow and I was walking around telling all the parents to take a look at how pathetic this woman is. Oh yeah, I was working it alright, having fun yet making a really terrible situation for myself even worse! When she approached a woman that I am acquainted with through my kids' school (she's the mother of one of my son's classmates) and this woman looked back at me as if to say "Yep, I know her and she is obnoxious.", that's when I got mad. Don't get me wrong, I didn't act out or do anything to this woman or my acquaintance but this acquaintance has pretended to be my friend before and let's just say that she has picked the wrong person to fuck with.

Anyway, the mother who didn't care for me was waiting around as if she was going to pounce on me if given the opportunity. I was too busy enjoying our kids' celebration on the court, with us parents taking numerous photos of them holding the trophy. Eventually, this woman gave up and disappeared.

You may think that I enjoy confrontations but I don't. I was actually very nervous that this woman was going to approach me outside of the building and I felt it necessary to have someone excort me to my car. The reason I was nervous is that even though I despise confrontations, when I am engaged in them I tend to let my temper get the better of me and who the hell knows what would have flown out of my mouth had she said something! I, for one, certainly didn't want there to be a fist fight in the middle of the parking lot! I'm there at such events for one reason alone, to cheer my team on. I don't set out to make enemies and I'm certainly not there to intentionally piss people off but I'm also never one to back down from someone's words. I wish I could warn these people ahead of time that engaging in a war of words with me is a losing battle but I'm not there to be friends with them, only to enjoy my children and their teammates.

Then, the person who shall not be mentioned here decided it was necessary to tell me that some of the people saying shit about me were his co-workers and how embarrassed he was of me. Ya' know what? GOOD! I'm glad he was embarrassed and I hope they gave him a hard time because frankly, I couldn't give a flying Fig Newton what these people thought of me! I'm not the one who has to work side-by-side with them day after day and have to hide because I'm a big fucking pussy! I'm certain he had a lot of choice words for me to his co-workers...as he always did even when we were married in his usual snide, joking-but-non-humorous way. But that's not what got me angry. What got me angry is when my son came back from the celebratory dinner at a local pizza place and told me that his dad told him that everyone at the game thought I was obnoxious!

Was that necessary for him to tell my son that? That's like my asking people if the person who shall not be mentioned here should be permitted to survive in this world. It's a rhetorical question.

What's so amusing about all this, is that in the final seconds of the game, my son and his teammates motioned for all of us to stand up and go nuts so we gladly obliged. What's even funnier, is that with all the hooting and hollering we did to distract the kids on the opposing team, their fans did the same exact thing to our kids!!! But yet, I'm the obnoxious one. Again, I'll proudly where this badge of honor and take it for the team!

Here's what I have to say to that...I am a parent who loves watching her kids perform in whatever sport they choose. I will always be the supportive parent who cheers her child on no matter what others say or think about me. I have NEVER nor will I ever, demonstrate the ridiculous, negative behavior that these other parents demonstrated towards me. In fact, when there was just seconds left in the game and one of our kids was making a foul shot with the opposing team going apeshit trying to distract him, I turned around to a friend sitting behind me, laughed hysterically and said "Oops! I think I've created a monster!". When someone on the opposing team makes a good play, I have always acknowledged that with a nod of my head, a smile or applause. If our children had lost last night, I would have certainly been disappointed, but I would have never directed my anger and disappointed towards other people and blamed them for something so ridiculous as cheering my child onto victory.

Anyway, today our kids are champions and us parents couldn't be more proud. And without further ado, I'd like to introduce to y'all, the 2009 6th grade basketball champions...

And as a side note, our boys made school history as no other 6th grade boys basketball team has ever won a championship!

1 adult, 2 children, 3 cats, 1 dog and..

...I must be outta' my fucking mind!!

At the end of February, it will be a year since adopting Schwartz.

In this time, he has shit and peed himself happy repeatedly in numerous spots around my house (and just to remind me that he still isn't completely housebroken, he took a shit in my dining room this morning), it was discovered that as a younger puppy, he was hit by a car and has a metal plate in his hip with rod and wires down one leg to keep everything attached and has had countless other health issues. As a first time dog owner, this past year has been a learning experience to say the least!

For those of you who've followed my blog for awhile, you know about Schwartz's loss of fur which turned out to be from a food allergy. His skin looks better although there's still some break outs occurring, almost like he has severe acne. Minimal fur regrowth is apparent but very slow and more of his fur has actually thinned out in other areas as well. When the allergy first developed, his previous diet caused him to be ravenous, he couldn't wait for his meals and he was eating them in less than a minute and then looking for more. Since starting him on the newer, high quality food, his appetite is back to normal with him taking his time eating his food throughout the course of the day. Because of the balding issue, I have not taken him to day care in some time now especially since we're in a serious cold patch right now and this particular area of skin is affected by the cold.

One other observation I've noticed for awhile now, is that he's lonely. While the kids and I spend as much time with him as we can it doesn't seem to be enough. He looks sad when we have to leave and it breaks my heart. In this year, the cats have learned to simply tolerate him. One out of the three cats still hisses at him fairly regularly when Schwartz gets too close and none of the cats have warmed up to him enough to dare cuddle with him. Even so, Schwartz doesn't give up his natural instinct to try to play with them and as doofie as he can be sometimes, he's not stupid and understands that the cats just don't care for him.

For some time now, I have thought about getting him a playmate. I've really been back and forth with it because, frankly, it's just not in my budget. Day care is great for socializing him but it's just not practical with the economy being in the toilet and with the amount of money I spend on that, having taken him two times/week in the past, spending the money on adopting a dog would equal the same amount I'd pay for two weeks worth of day care. Of course there's everything else that goes along with owning a pet like health care, food costs, grooming costs, etc. but the positive certainly outweighs the negative when it comes to full-time companionship.

So I'm thrilled to announce that as of 1pm today, Schwartz has a new full-time playmate!

The adoption happened very quickly. I saw his photo on our local Humane Society's website on Friday night and went in yesterday morning to check him out. He's been at the shelter for almost two weeks and no one before us showed an interest. The decision to adopt him was immediate. I spent ten minutes with him but knew within the first minute that I wanted him.

His name is Jasper, formally Jack. I changed his name because I didn't want him to have the same name as the devil child living directly across the street from us. From what I understand, when you change a dog's name, you should try to make it sound as familiar as the former so they are not entirely confused, that's why I kept the J-A part. Even so, he is confused which I suppose is normal and I'm sure it will take a few days at least before he starts recognizing it.

Onto the details...Jasper is a 1.5 year old Lab/German Shorthaired Pointer mix, probably more Lab than Pointer. The only recognizing Pointer features are his head and coloring. Everything else is Lab. His tail is Lab not Pointer and I haven't seen him point yet but then again, I've only had him here for a little over an hour! He is extremely overweight and will no doubt have to be put on a diet although the way he and Schwartz have been playing, he should lose all his excess weight in about two seconds! He's housebroken, knows minimal commands, seems to be good with cats and since the cats are used to having a dog around, seem to be okay with him, he has a great disposition, very sweet, very high energy and too fucking cute for words!

By now you're probably wondering WTF he looks like. Well, I gave you the description above which is all I can leave you with for now since he won't sit still long enough for me to snap a picture! Gimme' a week, I'm sure things will calm down by then!

Because we already have a dog, he and Schwartz had to have a "meet-and-greet" to make sure they'd get along before I could take him home. He also had to have a cat test to make sure he would deal well with cats and he passed. Jasper and Schwartz had a great first meeting and I can't even begin to tell you how excited Schwartz is to have a friend to play with! They are both so exhausted right now, I'm certain they'll both sleep well tonight.

I definitely have my work cut out for me. The people who owned him previously spoiled him rotten and most definitely did not train him at all. He knows 'sit' and that's it. For people who had him since he was a young puppy, I'm truly appauled they didn't take the time to teach their dog the basics. At first, I will have to take him for solo walks because he doesn't know a thing about walking, which side to stay on, etc.. He's all over the place and when I led he and Schwartz out of the shelter today, I'm surprised I didn't fall and break my neck with how caught up I was in their leashes!

The adoption happened very quickly. I saw his photo on the Humane Society's website on Friday night and went in yesterday morning to check him out. He's been at the shelter for almost two weeks and no one before us showed an interest. The decision to adopt him was immediate. I spent ten minutes with him but knew within the first minute that I wanted him.

Fortunately, the vet I take our pets to is open on Saturdays and I called them and they faxed the requested information right over to the shelter. By 3:30 yesterday afternoon, our adoption had been approved.

Now, here's some interesting news about Schwartz...

The people at the Humane Society remembered him and couldn't believe how amazing he looks! I was told that he and his litter of brothers and sisters were brought in as young puppies and that they were just very messy, ugly-looking puppies!

Anyway, that's the scoop for now. I will keep you posted and the minute I get a picture of 'the boys' I'll post it here!

i'm such a lazy shit

Since I've been spending time writing and Facebooking lately and catching up with ex-boyfriends (a story for another day) instead of doing things that I should be doing like, oh, refinancing my mortgage and basically doing whatever I can from allowing this house to fall into the shitter, I have nothing of any interest to write about. Not that I ever do, but today is really nothing.

So whenever there's nothing, out come the "Word of the Day" posts! Yeefuckinhaw!

Today's word is "tordaw".

Again, don't cheat by Googling because this is not a real word. You must write a sentence with a believable definition. And today, you cannot use words in your sentence like 'suck' and 'blow'. Heh.

the good news

Okay, so last I left y'all, I had some good news to share. I wasn't going to share it right away but Pandora made a random stab in the dark in her comment to my last blog post as to what my news was and was partially right (Pan, you fucking witch!). In any case, I thought it was time to fess up.

For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to be a writer. It started in my elementary school years when I would write silly stories just for kicks to entertain others. I even won some state and national book-writing awards. My love for writing continued throughout all my schooling, including college. It didn't matter what I majored in because I knew no matter what, my desired long-term goal would be fiction writing.

As a young adult, I brainstormed like most people breathe oxygen. I carried pads of paper and small notebooks around with me wherever I went, and I still do that to this day. I wrote story lines that I developed into rough drafts, knowing one day they would develop into real writings. But time, work and life got in the way and I was never able to complete these stories.

This continued into the early years of my marriage. Just as Anne Rice was coming out with her vampire series, I had an entire vampire series lined out and, if I do say so myself, it was good. But, of course, marriage, children and life put all that on hold and I was okay with that. I knew a time would come when I would either complete those writings or do something else. If anything, I would get something published just so my children would one day see it. It didn't matter if I became a well-known author, just as long as my children had something to be proud of me.

Early on this December, I read the first book in the Twilight series. I proceeded to read the entire four-book series in a week's time, each book taking me only two days to read. For those who've seen/read the books, they are all very long so you know how much sleep I lost during that week.

You might be wondering what I found so intriguing about these books to read them so quickly. It's not that I think author Stephanie Meyer is such a fabulous writer, although I will admit she grabbed my attention from the first page which, for me at least, is very important. If I can't get into a book within the first ten pages, I usually put it down and never pick it up again.

What caught me a bit off-guard was that her story was my story! Don't get me wrong, no one stole anything but author Stephanie Meyer's Twilight novels and many of my ideas weren't just similar, they were exactly the same. And I was pissed. Not at her, at myself for not lighting a fire under my ass all those years ago and doing what I love to do best. I was pissed that it could have been me entertaining so many people with my vivid tales of vampire lust and love.

Anyway, fast forward to the present. On Friday December 26th, I left on my long-dreaded trip to visit my family. That Thursday, after years of suffering from writer's block and not really giving a damn whether or not I wrote or even if I ever had a book published, the writing bug suddenly hit me again, full force. On that Thursday alone, inbetween waiting for the hives to surface and packing, I regurgitated 173 pages of what I truly believe will be my first novel. And while I was away, I wrote every free second that was generously given to me, pretty much to help save my sanity from my family's dysfunction. For once, I was excited not to be someone who had decent sleep habits as I would awaken at 4, 5 in the morning and write non-stop for almost two hours if not more until my children would wake. As of 6:30 this past Thursday morning, I had hand-written my entire first novel and fifty pages of a sequel. My kids were at their dad's this past weekend and other than a few brief periods of sleep, eating and peeing, I spent most of my weekend writing instead of unpacking. I very rarely left my desk. It is all very rough and it will take me months of editing and fine-tuning but I do believe this is my time to shine.

In recent years, as my kids have developed more independence, I thought about getting back into writing but thinking it and doing it are two totally different things. I truly believe that everyone is put on this earth for a significant reason and for some time now I thought that mine was to be the best mother possible. There's nothing wrong with that and, in fact, not a moment has passed in my past eleven+ years as a mother where I didn't consider some aspect of parenthood fulfilling and rewarding. But I've always known that there was something more for me out there and I can't even begin to tell you how excited I am for this new chapter in my life to finally take shape!

fucking awesome!!

Have any of you read this article? It claims that if you spend some time swearing, you'll have less stress in your life. Well shit, I could have fucking told them that!!

So, I hearby proclaim December 2nd as National Swear All You Fucking Want Day! Balls up, people, and join me in this fucking celebratory event! It will fucking rock...if I do say so myself!

koolio goes to the dentist

Since a young girl, mostly due to my not taking proper care of my teeth back then, I have been poked, prodded and probed more times than someone who's been abducted by aliens. I'm indifferent towards the dentist - like most people, I don't really care for them but I'm so used to the torture already it barely phases me.

Until yesterday.

I have always been a good patient. When I've had to have dental work done, I take my lidocane shots like a true champ. When I have to get the tartar scraped from my teeth, I don't cringe, not even when I'm stabbed in the gum like evil experiments are being performed on me.

But yesterday, the hygienist, whom I absolutely love, triggered my gag reflex not once but twice! I was mortified! I tried to hide it but how much can you hide the lurching sound coming from the back of your throat?! Thankfully, nothing made an appearance, if you know what I mean. *wink*

After the first time, I tried thinking of positive things. I said "Pretty Ponies Prancing on the Prairie" to myself over and over again but all I envisioned were those stupid My Little Pony dolls with the rainbow-colored mane and it made me want to gag some more.

Then I tried picturing a secluded beach somewhere in the South Pacific with beautiful, untouched palm trees, white glistening sand and crystal clear turquoise-colored waters and then she turned on the contraption that shoots that nasty baking soda into my mouth and completely ruined it for me!

The second time it happened was when I had to get X-rays taken. I have NEVER gagged while getting X-rays taken but when I realized that I would have a metal contraption in my mouth covered in a latex condom, the gagging was unavoidable.

The bitch must have been laughing at me.

Seriously, WTF am I gonna' do when I finally do meet a guy I want to date and he wants a...um...oh nevermind.


In other news...

Schwartz is still losing fur. It's getting to the point where I would probably have enough for a fur hat. Okay, maybe that's a stretch. Maybe just a finger cozy. Even though he's barely noticing this hair loss and isn't scratching, his skin seems a bit dry in spots with a few scabs here and there and after doing research online yesterday for mange, I started to wonder. He didn't fit all the symptoms but with this dog, I can never play it too safe!

I owed the vet a call anyway to report back to him since I started giving Schwartz Clariten for possible allergies and the vet assured me that he was 100% sure it was seasonal allergies and not mange. Then it dawned on me that he's probably reacting to the heat in the house. It's been cold here lately, using the heat has been a necessity and the hair loss started when we first turned the heat on. If my skin dries out in the winter, why couldn't it do the same thing to the dog?! And it's not like we can tell our dogs to drink a lot of water so that our skin doesn't dry out and have them listen to us, right?! Poor, poor needy, high-maintenance dog 'o mine!


My daughter is really cute in the morning. She always wakes up in a good mood, laughs and jokes around with me while I'm trying to coax her outta' bed.

This morning, she looked up at me and she didn't say "Hi Mom" or even "I love you, Mom" but instead she asked...

"Will you pick my nose?"

(As if!)

How did I respond?

First I looked at her like she had two heads. Then I did what any other respected parent would do to their child...I farted right in her face and ran out of the room! I bet she wasn't expecting that!

i'm in love!!

I know I'm gonna' regret choosing to write this post at this late hour but I just had to tell y'all something and didn't want to put it off in fear that I might forget some important detail!

It's not about the inappreciative bucket of fuck whose purse I returned to her today while at the supermarket and instead of being thanked, I was greeted with "What did you take?"!! Nice huh?! So much for being an honest person!

It's not about the kid who quarterbacked my son's 6th grade football team and who broke both bones in his left forearm but who's still being permitted to try out for the basketball team. This one really irks me and I will most likely address this topic a little later but for now, I must talk about something else.

There is a new show on the Sci-fi channel, which, if you haven't seen yet, you must watch next Wednesday night! It's called Estate of Panic and while I've always said how I despise reality TV, it's absolute genius! The person who thought up the idea behind the show must have been abused in torturous ways as a young child because anyone who's not that psychologically fucked up couldn't possibly dream up something like this!

The show is hosted by the always fabulous British actor, Steve Valentine, who used to play the somewhat creepy medical examiner on the show Crossing Jordan. In a nutshell, six insane people go to this crazy huge mansion and put themselves through sheer torture while collecting as much money as possible through a series of challenges and not being the last one to do so in fear of being locked in or out.

Let me back up for a minute...today, two of my cable boxes went on the fritz, one of which is in my bedroom. Unfortunately, I'm so accustomed to watching TV while in bed at night, that I ended up watching TV in my family room and falling asleep in there, waking to this show. I missed the first challenge but I did watch them pick through high-voltage wires and a ceiling and walls closing in on them, all the while, trying to avoid snakes, worms, crabs and other nasty creepy-crawlies then would curdle your blood!

So the winner was given one last challenge - go into Steve Valentine's vault, collect more money and escape before the door seals shut. The hitch was having an ankle chained to the floor and having to get loose and exit the vault before the last of ten balls drops or he loses all the money he and the others collected throughout the evening, possibly walking away with nothing. I can hear ya'll screaming "motherfucker"! I know! I was too!

So here's the guy, opening 200 safety deposit boxes, releasing possible tools to help him free himself as well as snakes and other nasties and he finally frees himself with a crow bar, grabs some cash and exits just in the nick of time, winning over $28,000!!!

The best part was Steve Valentine ordering the guy to "Now...get out of my house!" and the guy saying in return "Goodbye creepy guy!" I think I howled loud enough to wake up my neighbors two doors down!

It's genius, I tell you! Pure genius!

i was born a poor black child

Not me! Schwartz!!

The night before last, while giving Schwartz a good back-scratchin', I felt something...strange. It was cold and just felt plain weird to the touch! Okay stop it! I know some of you out there are thinking evil bestiality thoughts!

I got out a flashlight and there was a patch of exposed skin. Ladies and gents, not only is my dog suffering from male-patterned baldness but underneath all that fur, he's black!

After further inspection, I noticed that his skin looked fine. It wasn't dry or scaly and there were no sores from scratching. It was just...bald! Anyway, I called the vet yesterday morning and while I was waiting for him to return the call, I took him (Schwartz not the vet!) for a walk and noticed that he not only has that one patch of skin showing, but his fur is starting to thin out all over his body! WTF?! Here I am trying to grow his fur out for the upcoming colder season and he's morphing into The Great Baldino! And maybe if I'm really lucky, he'll shed all his fur, become the only Terrier/Cattle Dog mix breed with no fur and we can get him featured on that ridiculous Sci-fi show "Believe it or Not!" with host Dean Kane! Yeehaw!!

The vet eventually called me back and told me to go out and get some Zyrtec. For those of you who don't know what that is, which I'm sure most of you do, it's an OTC allergy medicine. He went onto explain that a lot of dogs in this area tend to develop allergies and gnaw at their fur when one day it's 50 degrees and the next it's 80 like we experience so often here and we're going through that type of back-and-forth weather change right now. This diagnosis would certainly explain why he's been sneezing so much lately!

So let's see if y'all can keep this straight...

1. He's on joint supplements for the rest of his life due to his hip injury when he was hit by a car as a younger puppy.

2. He has to take one Zantac/day because of an acid reflux condition.

3. He now has to take one Zyrtec/day to keep his allergy symptoms at bay.

*shakes head*

Why do I always pick the needy, high-maintenance animals?!

~~OoO~~

I was driving behind this guy yesterday and he had a bumper sticker that read

I love my wife

Why?!

No, not 'why does he love his wife?', why must this guy proclaim his love for his wife in the form of a bumper sticker?! I can think of at least 100 other ways to proclaim one's love for another instead of on your little Redneck Mobile! Shit, could he get any classier?! His wife must be so flattered!

If you're gonna' sport a bumper sticker, at least be creative! Take the one I had once, for instance. When I was a senior in college, my mom, the generous soul that she is, gave me her heaping POS Cutlas Brougham Oldsmobile sedan which stalled everytime I turned on the heat so I had to make the 5.5 hour drive back to school in ass-cold Connecticut without heat and shivering my titties off! Where was I?! Oh yeah...this car was so crappy, that whomever was sitting in the front seat with me actually had to lean forward just to get the thing to go up a freakin' hill! I finally decided she was worth getting her very own bumper sticker which, I should add, I created...

0 to 60 in 20 minutes

I'm so cool. You know you wanna' be me. *wink*

"i'll toot if i have to"

Ahh...the fightin' words of an eight year old with very overactive bowels.

But that's not what this post is about.

Lemme' tell y'all just how excited I am for next Halloween!

My kids and I raided three stores yesterday morning all with post-Halloween sales. For less than $200, we got all the decorations we'll need to put on a seriously frightening display for next year! It includes the following...

1 miniature poseable skeleton (it resembles the larger classroom models)
1 bag 'o bones that can be displayed in any way
4 decent-sized tombstones
several packages of cobwebs
1 fog machine
3 strobe lights
2 zombie costumes
1 motion-sensored skull that lights up and plays the Halloween movie theme song
1 motion-sensored ghostly spirit that shakes, rattles its chains and screams bloody murder
1 eerie 'welcome' sign
1 lit up gate/fence

And I'm not sure the shopping is done! I'm willing to spend an even $200 total if I happen to spot something elsewhere that I really can't do without! Like a coffin, for instance. Not a real one, bitches!!

The kids and I have already talked out decoration plans for next year. I won't spoil the secret. You'll just have to wait another 362 days to find out.

Although, I will tell you that I have enough props to erect an elaborate cemetery scene. Or open my own cemetery.

Now someone please tell me how the fuck I'm gonna' get all this shit in my attic?!

hello, weenie

My son sure knows how to put the 'weenie' in Halloween.

Halloween started off as every other Halloween has in past years...got the kids up early, excitement seeping through their pores. Took them to school, watched my daughter in the lower school parade (my son is a bystander as well now that he's in middle school) and then came home to get some things done including taking a nap as I was up a good part of the night watching my beloved Ghost Hunters doing their thang live and it was the most boring thing I've ever seen!

This Halloween was a bit different. This was the first year that my kids went trick-or-treating separately. The lower school let out at noon and my daughter went to her friend's house. My son brought home a friend and since they are trying out for basketball in the next few weeks, asked me to take me to the court in our subdivision for a few hours so they could shoot some hoops.

This is when the madness of Halloween set in and my son decided it was as good a time as any to start acting like a Weenie McSpazitron.

After dropping my son and his friend off at the court, I headed for Subway to get them their dinner. Only this Subway was full of a bunch of dipshit doofae (the plural of doofus) and had no pepperoni to make their spicy Italian sub. Um, dickheads, the pepperoni is what makes the spicy Italian sub spicy and for fuck sake, there's a supermarket a hop, skip and jump from your fucking store so get crackin'!

I elected to get him the only other item he likes from that place and needless to say, it was the wrong choice and he pitched the fit of a 2-year old in the car on the way home. I can't even imagine what his friend was thinking at the whining and carrying on because I didn't get him the sandwich of his choice. Then he started hitting the back of my seat with his basketball, cutting me off with everything I said but the icing on the cake was when he started to endlessly beg his friend to let him eat his sub until his friend finally caved just to shut my son up! His friend bargained with him and my son was happy again.

This type of behavior reminded me exactly of my sister who pitches a fit whenever she doesn't get her way. Let me assure y'all, that was nipped in the bud real fast yesterday. I took away my son's phone, firmly spoke to him in such a way that he could understand that his obnoxious behavior and rude name-calling (calling me "fart nugget" for instance) was not acceptable and then I spanked him. Oh yes I did! Although it probably did nothing but give him a sore ass for a few minutes, it felt very good to me! I can count on one hand how many times I've had to spank my kids over the years but I never thought I would have to spank an 11 year old!

Unfortunately, my words must have faded in the wind as fast as a fart because he continued with his shit as soon as we were home. His joking and his playful hitting did not go over well with me. I let it go only because I didn't want to put a damper on Halloween and spend the evening embarrassing him in front of his friend but today his Halloween candy is being taken away for several days as punishment. God damn, do these freakin' punishments ever end?!

The kids had dinner and then spent their time playing on the computer until another of their friends arrived around 7ish. Then we headed out to brave the crowded streets. Trick-or-treating started off slow and then got to a point where the streets were so jam-packed it took nearly 20 minutes for us to be able to turn one street corner! They were so thirsty from running around that they were desperate to get back to my house just to get a drink and I couldn't get the truck in front of me to turn the damn corner! Police were everywhere to try and make things go smoothly but it wasn't working very well!

I should mention that one of my son's friends, the one he ate dinner with, whom I liked before last evening, was not on his best behavior either. Twice he called out some nasty things like "suck it" and "move your asses" to the people passing by, and twice I had to told him to stop it because I ive there and see some of these people on a daily basis. I thought things were fine after he apologized the first time, but sadly, I was mistaken when he blurted out the second comment like he had Tourrettes! I was a bit taken aback by what this 12 year old was saying because despite the fact that I have a mouth on me and have been known to let some colorful words slip in front of my kids, last night made it very clear to me that this was not someone I wanted my son to be friends with. My kids know that if I say something, bad it doesn't give them the right or reason to say it themselves, but when my son's at school, I have no idea what he's learning from his friends. I realize that I can't stop him from learning this type of behavior but I can stop him from associating with these kids. I understand that these kids are at the age where they're just trying to find their place in this world but do they have to do it in such a rude way?!

We finally got home, they downed some water and then we headed out to some quieter streets near my house. The highlight of the evening, was watching the kids walk up to this one home when this guy in a Jason mask jumped out from behind a tree and chased them with a chainsaw! Now before any of you parents say something about how dangerous that could have been, there was no chain on the chainsaw and it couldn't have caused a scratch! Of course, my son being the obnoxiously loud tool that he was last night told the guy to come over to the car to scare me and all it did was make me laugh! I high-fived the guy and thanked him for making my son scream like a girl!

Also different from this year was the way we decorated the house. We did away with some of the older, babyish Halloween decorations for more scary, Night of the Living Dead-type props. Several bodyparts laying askew on our front step, a decapitated head hanging from one of our trees, various tombstones scattered on our lawn with a pile of dirt formed in front of one of the tombstones to resemble a newly buried body. We also had some motion-detected decorations including a big-ass hairy spider right above my front door that dropped down at every single little noise, a rattlesnake that lunged for everything that moved and a zombie face that begs people to come closer so that he can scream right at them. There's this awesome costume store right near my house that sells the most incredible decorations including black, red and brown fake spiderwebs, for instance. Last year we opted for the blood red ones and this year was black which we got complimented on left and right. I'm sure the big, gnarly spiders hanging from it had something to do with it as well.

However...

After seeing some of the homes all decked out in Halloween paraphenalia last night, I'm going to have to rethink things for next year. This is really the one time of year that I LOVE to decorate the house and I'm really going to have to go full throttle next year. Right here, right now, I'm taking a solemn vow to be that house in the neighborhood that everyone flocks to every night preceeding Halloween just to get one more look at the decorations! I may be broke when all is said and done but it will be worth it!

I am even willing to take the risk that some toddlers out there will be scarred for life from what they will see! I promise not to have any second thoughts or a guilty conscience for fucking up some poor kid! I'm thoughtful that way.

Hope y'all had a great Halloween!