Merry, Merry Cwis-a-miss

I am going on vacation! I don't know if I'll be able to post much over the next week and a half, so I wish all of you the merriest of Christmases and Happy New Year. Thanks for all of the comments, suggestions, and insults you've given me over the year. I know I am not an easy person to take sometimes, but I love you all.

Be safe (no drinking and driving), be happy, and have peace. (Or get a piece, if that's what you want;-)

Mood Schwings

I was once emailed this little guy who, when you clicked on him, would yell out, "Yee-haw!" I liked to push his little button very fast because then he would go, "Yee-haw! Yee-haw! Yee-haw! Yee-haw!" He kicked his little leg each time, too, so I could make him jerk around yelling "Yee-haw!" like a country gymnast on crack.

That is how I feel today.

My big, hulking, domineering task that I have to complete before I go on vacation is almost over. By tomorrow I will be stress free and looking forward to my work Christmas party. Hubby has ordered the part for our stove, so hopefully we will have it working by the time my family arrives. If not, oh well. Issy and my sister both have working stoves so I'm not up shit creek without a paddle.

Yesterday was the last day I took The Pill. From now on I will be Pill free. Right now I feel elated. By next week things may change. I have done research on women who get off The Pill after being on it for a while and let's just say Stephen King ain't got nothin' on that. The nasty possibilities I may face are enough to make Katie Couric go postal. However, I do have a few things going in my favor, so this journey may not be as bumpy as I fear. We'll see.

Have you noticed the jumbled letters one must type in to leave comments are getting longer and longer? It used to be things like "KrTuv" or "eW7I9op." I logged on to leave a comment today and the code was "ALkDjr5VAWoeIR7SjVOiERolWJG:ZSLJG."

Hell Couldn't Be Worse

I'm in a bad mood today. My husband is having problems at his job, my stove broke last night so I now have 8 bread pans full of goo, and the exam my professor told me he would have on my desk first thing this morning is still MIA. I have 3 more days of work before I start my vacation.

No one seems to be leaving any comments on my blog, which means I have no readers or they can't leave comments. It's probably the first. So fuck everybody.

How much money and effort has been spent looking for those dumb-ass climbers in Oregon? It's over all ready, pack up the shit and order the memorial rock to be placed at the edge of the mountain. Wait until Spring when things thaw and go from there. It's cold, those bodies will keep. They may even be able to have an open casket provided the animals don't get to them first.

While we're talking about mountains let's talk about Everest. My husband has been watching this series about some climbers trying to reach the top. Do you know how disgusting and polluted Mount Everest is? Oh yeah! Every climber just dumps their oxygen tanks and ropes and whatever else they feel like right along the path. That's humans for you. They think it's such an accomplishment climbing this majestic mountain, but they don't give two shits about turning it into a trash heap. We are such wasteful, vile creature, it's no wonder we are killing ourselves off so quickly.

Not quickly enough if you ask me. And since no one is talking to me, I'll answer the question on my own. We can't die soon enough. We are trashing this planet and entering a new phase of human cruelty. The smarter we get with technology the dumber we are at everything else. The best thing that could happen to this planet would be our death. It would straighten itself out eventually. And if we humans start kicking the bucket in the streets I have a whole list of people I'm going to hurry on to the afterlife. Hell, I'll just start killing indiscriminately. Today would be a good day to start...

Sex

A dog's behavior when it's masters are having sex:

Why you closing the door? What's going on in there? Why can't I come in? Let me in. Hey, hello? You left me out here....You're eating something, ain't cha? I love food! Let me in, let me in. I will bang my head against this door all night (thump, thump, thump). Let me in, let me in! Let (thump) me (thump) in (thump). I'll scratch this door down, I swear. C'mon, C'MON! I can hear you in there, I know you're eating something. Stop jumping around in there and let me in. (Thump, thump, thump) IN!!

A cat's behavior when it's maters are having sex:

Don't touch this corner of the bed...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Hiedy-Ho!

Shortest. News story. Ever.

Then there's this! This is dedication, folks. This is looking out for the people.

2006 Strikes Again

Where I go, so goes Issy. Most of you know how close we are. My mom and dad have a set of friends, another couple, who are just like family. Where they go, so go J & S. When I visit my folks in Alabama I always see J & S. They are like second parents. If I ever needed anything I'm sure I could call them up and ask for it - and get it. J & S are such good people one thinks themselves lucky to know them.

J's son drown in Hawaii yesterday trying to save the life of a 14-year-old boy and the boy's grandfather. They both survived, but J's son did not. He died a hero but I doubt that is great comfort right now. J & S will have to bury his son for Christmas and find a way to help his widow and four children. Yep, four. Now fatherless.

Life can be so unfair. I'm trying not to burst into tears here at work. My female co-workers would understand but my male co-workers would run themselves ragged trying to figure it out.

Today life just sucks.

A Cute Treat Idea

Jumbo Olives, black
Small olives, black
Carrot feet
Carrot beaks
Cream cheese (flovored)

What you get:

Time's A'waisten

My sister read my blog about Christmas and Family and was a bit upset. Understandably. While I feel bad that she was upset I'm still glad I wrote it because it opened up an avenue of communication we didn't have. I'm not as close to my sister as I'd like to be, nor my nephew. We talked for about an hour about all sorts of things and I feel much better about my relationship with not only my sister but my nephew as well.

So they found a dead, frozen body on a mountain in Washington and identified it as one of the missing climbers. Told ya.

I'm still in a bit of a mood so I'm going to keep my mouth shut.

Too Damn Bad

I'm sorry, but those three climbers who are missing now have no one to blame for their deaths but themselves.

And they are dead, if not right now than soon. Because the fuckers packed as lightly as they could in order to make a two day trip faster. Uh-huh. Let's see, it's winter. Weather around mountains can be unpredictable. Getting rid of gear does make one lighter, but it also makes one fucked when the elements turn on you.

I think people who climb mountains are stupid. That is my opinion and I'm betting it isn't shared by many. That's okay, no one will ever have to call my family and tell them I died for no good reason. No one will ever have to worry if I'll come back from a short trip. I will never have to worry about keeping my health and life insurance. My family will never have to have this conversation:

"Why is Barbarian dead?"
"Because she had to climb a mountain."
"Why?"
"No reason, she just wanted to climb it."
"Didn't she love us?"
"Of 'course, but she had to climb the mountain."
"Why?"
"No reason."
"Didn't she want to see me grow up? Didn't she want to stay married?"
"Of 'course."
"Then why did she climb the mountain and throw it all away?"
"No reason."

How the family can be so optimistic, and so supportive, is beyond me. Instead of smiling for the camera's and acting like everything is going to be okay, I'd be like this:

"Are you happy now? You just had to climb the mountain. Now my children are fatherless and I'm a widow. Are you happy now? Was it worth it? You selfish sack of shit, if you do make it back alive you can find a new place to live. I'm divorcing your ass and finding myself a man who will put his family ahead of his stupid ambition to get himself killed."

Yeah, my sympathy pool is rather shallow when it comes to mountain climbers.

Christmas and Family

Christmas, Christmas, Christmas is here.
It's time for Santa and his little reindeer.
Christmas, Christmas, Christmas is here.
Bring the liquor, wine, and beer.

I am/am not looking forward to my Christmas this year. Everyone is coming to my house for the big present-fest. There will be 9 of us: Mom, Dad, my sis, her man, B-Butt, Issy, her son Ax, me, and my stud-muffin of a lovin' machine husband. (Beo and kitty will be there, but they aren't great gift-givers).

I'm looking forward to having my family in my home, making food for everyone, getting the house all purty, and being off from work. Issy and her son joining us is a new thing. We'll eat too much, maybe catch a movie, and maybe catch a nap. There is only one thing that I am not looking forward to; B-Butt's utter domination of the whole damn scene.

It has been tradition in my family to open gifts one at a time. We all sit around in a big circle and enjoy opening gifts. I like this tradition. All the time and effort I put into a gift is worth it when I am able to see the reaction of thegiftee. It also makes the day last a little longer. When people have a five-minute rip-fest, what are they going to do for the rest of the day? Anyhow, this had been our tradition up until B-Butt was about three. Then the tradition came to a screeching halt.

"I wanna open one. I wanna open one. Where's mine? Where's mine? Why do I hafta wait? I wanna open mine now. Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. I want a toy. I want a toy. Whaaaaaaaaaaaaa."

So of 'course my family threw tradition out the window and bowed down to the great tantrum of B-Butt. Last Christmas sucked balls because I couldn't enjoy others enjoying their gifts. All I heard was the constant bitching of my nephew and the threats my sister gave if he didn't shut-up (which are empty, by the way, so he never shut-up).

Now B-Butt is 7. I'm hoping he will be quelled by his mother, but that is a long shot. I'm counting on the fact that he's old enough to understand all the words that come out of my mouth, mainly, "If you don't shut the hell up and get with the program I will kick your whiny, ungrateful ass out of my house."

I understand my sister bending over backwards to spoil B-Butt, she can't help herself, but my mom and dad cater to him, too. MY mom and dad, the two people who would beat my sister and I senseless if we pulled the same shit my nephew is pulling. The two people who etched "Children shall be seen and not heard" in stone now run each other over just to make sure the kid is happy.

If my mom and dad would chose my side I actually believe B-Butt would calm down and participate like a good boy. If he has five adults telling him to quit it may work (me, hubby, Issy, mom, and dad). But that won't happen because B-Butt is 1) never wrong, 2) so precious it hurts, and 3) ALWAYS gets his way.

I can't tell him to shut-up because then my family will turn on me. "Don't talk to him like that! You could hurt his feelings. He's only a little boy." Excuses, excuses.

So this is how Christmas will go: B-Butt will scream, yell, talk, and run all over the place, having to touch or hold everything. He will not leave the dog alone no matter how many times I tell him (he doesn't listen to anyone). Ax, who's 3, will behave until he sees B-Butt getting away with it, then he will join the ranks and I'll have two brats on my hands. (Only Issy will smack Ax down when she's had enough). We'll start to open presents only to be interrupted every 30 seconds by B-Butt demanding it's his turn. My mom and dad will drop everything to make sure he's happy. (Two years ago I spent a lot of time making a gift for my mom only to see it fall by the chair-side, half opened as she raced to get B-Butt a toy. I don't think she ever actually opened it.) This means that everyone will start talking, and it will get louder and louder as each person vies for the dominant volume. My sister will yell empty threats, her boyfriend will sit there like a dumb bump on a log, and my husband will find a way to vacate the premises. Poor Beo will probably join him as he's not used to a destructive, violent boy tugging and poking him constantly. Once all the presents are opened B-Butt will whine because there aren't anymore, he'll ask if he can have everyone else's presents (because he IS that selfish), and then he'll run around my house searching for the dog.

Maybe I'll join the cat in the basement until everyone goes home.

My fantasy of a nice, calm, happy Christmas will not be fulfilled until B-Butt goes to college. Hopefully in Alaska. When I was his age I had to adhere to the strict rules of my family and it didn't dampen my spirits at all. I still had a great time. Christmas is for EVEY ONE to enjoy, not just the kids. Catering to one person so religiously makes it hard on everyone else, and not very enjoyable.

I could be wrong - but I doubt it.

2006 Strikes Again

First of all, it is so fucking frustrating that I can not leave any comments on anyone's blog. I don't have a Google account and I DON'T WANT ONE! I have been able to leave comments on blogs just fine until this week. This is a Blogger problem and I wish they'd fix it. And no, it's not my password. I know my damn password and it's not working.

Second, There are some people in this world who don't need to be alive. As some of you know Issy is my best friend. As you may also know, Issy is surrounded by a psychotic in-law family. Ragzilla (mother-in-law) has really taken the cake this time. I will leave all the details to Issy, it's her story, but here are the bare facts: Ragzilla's father froze to death. No one found him for two days (and it wasn't Ragzilla). Tomorrow they will put him in the ground. No funeral, no memorial, no service, not even a bunch of flowers. Ragzilla isn't even going because she has better things to do than bury her father.

I've had no respect for Ragzilla for quite some time now. I have regarded her as empty space. I wasn't bothered by her, I didn't really think of her, and if I was around her I kind of rode it out and went about my day. Now I have hatred for her. There is violence in me, she makes it want to come out.

Her dad had become hard to deal with. It happens. My father could very well disappear one day and become a complete stranger. However, even if I grow to hate that man, I will still show him respect in death because he is the man who taught me how to change a tire, paint, and kick a boy in the balls. He's the one who worked hard to put me through college and who is always there for me now. Alzheimers, dementia, and old age won't make me forget that.

But enough about me, I am worried about Issy. This is the 3rd person she will see buried this year. And it looks like tomorrow it will be me, her, Mr. Ragzilla, and the back-ho guy. (Mr. Ragzilla is only going because someone has to sign the papers.) The circumstances leading to his death are deplorable. The reaction of his "family" is disgusting. But I will put on my nice clothes, fix the hair, and put on the make-up because the old guy was a human being. He deserves respect, even if it is from a stranger.

I Can't Comment

Since Blogger has decided that my password doesn't work on comments, here is what I have to say to Issy in regards to Dieting:

Ummmm, hello?!?!?
Did you ever think about asking me? We could come up with some sort of routine. You have to pass my house on the way to work, right? I work next to a big, fat park, remember? We each have loads of DVDs that are collecting dust on our shelves. You show me yours and I'll show you mine.

And in regards to Death in 3s:

It shows your heart that you are worried about P dying alone. Even though he could be a real pain in the ass, you still have compassion for him. That's a wonderful thing. The fact that his own daughter (psycho) couldn't give two shits about it shows what kind of person she is. She'll be more worried about what she gets in his will than if he died lonely and afraid. Don't take her cruelty and indifference to heart, she'll get hers in the end.

Brittany's Box

I made a box for my niece this Christmas. It all started when I went to Michael's and found these little metal squares on sale for $.99. I didn't know what I'd do with them but they were on sale.

I painted little blue flowers on the tiles. Sorry this photo is so fuzzy.

Then I decided to sew blue beads around the edges of the flowers, leaving the corner holes empty so I could attach the pieces together.




bracelet made, I now needed to get the box ready. I found an old wooden box that had been the victim of many failed ideas. After sanding it down a bit I glued material to it and cross-stitched Brit's name across the top. Then I made a divider and cut the box into two compartments.


I painted an egg with the same flowers as the bracelet and attached a hanger. Wa-la, ornament. I put padding onto one side of the box and created a platform for the bracelet on the other side. Now all I had to do was put it all together.

There's Always One

It is currently 19 degrees in St. Louis. The high today will be in the lower 30's. I have said for a long time now that no matter how cold it is, you will always see some asshole wearing shorts.

Since the "Storm of the Century" last week I have seen said asshole EVERY DAY.

I don't get this. If you are stupid enough to wear shorts when there is snow and ice falling from the sky, why wear a coat? The jerk today had a thick coat, muffler, hat, and shorts! Why bother? Slap on some flip-flops and a tank top and go sun yourself. What I find so amusing is the idiots wearing shorts are always hugging themselves or hurrying to their next destination. Oh, what, are you cold?

I understand the motivation, they want attention. They want people to look at them, question them, maybe even come up to them. They want to be different from everyone else. They want to stand out, or make some sort of social statement. They think they are so omnipotent that by wearing shorts they will force summer to come back 6 months early. They have to prove their macho-ness. Whatever.

Hopefully the wearing of shorts will force cold air up their pants and freeze the sperm in their testicles, stopping them from having kids. People that stupid and stubborn don't need to breed.

The Da Vinci Code

I have not read this book. I did watch the movie yesterday since I had so much time on my hands. All I have to say is...eh?

First, I found out from my waxer that Tom Hanks awful haircut was the director's decision, no where in the book did the lead male have that mess.

Second, I found it very hard to follow. How did they figure out these clues? It seems as if Tom stood there for a second then turned to the female and said, "Oh, we have to take the 3:45 train to the Louve, cross over a threshold four times backwards, touch the floor panels in an intricate, random pattern, pull the third book in the fifth bookcase to the left, go down the stairs, fight the impossibly large snake, and then find the clue. Easy."

All the while they are being chased by an masochist albino with a dog collar around his leg.

The thing I hated most about this movie (and yes, it's become hate the more I think about it), is the end. The whole movie has been dedicated to finding these old clues to an old mystery/secret. Old, right, get it? Old. So at the end of the movie Tom stands on a structure that has been here less than 20 years and wa-la, the artifact is buried beneath it. Um, didn't the construction workers who put that thing up see it when they were digging holes? How could a tomb that's thousand of years old be buried under something that is less than 20? But here is what I hate so much. After allllllllll this time looking for this artifact, the camera pans down and shows the artifact two seconds before the credits begin to roll. That's it? Tom doesn't even explain how the hell he knew it was there.

I think I will have to read the book now just to understand the movie.

Erk, ag, whine...

Well, the shit storm is over and I'm back at work. My body is still sore so I'm walking around like an old lady.

I'm so upset that Mr. Kim died. In case you don't know Mr. James Kim and his family became stranded in Oregon. Mr. Kim went to look for help while his wife and two young daughters stayed with the family car. Not since Baby Jessica fell down the well has an entire country followed a story. I had so hoped this would have a happy ending but alas, it did not.

While I feel so sorry for this family I have to ask myself, why would anyone drive down a secluded road after (during?) a hard-ass snow storm? Why the hell would one do that? Didn't getting stranded ever cross their minds? I understand they were vacationing, but c'mon! If there is a snow prediction of several inches you'd find my ass on a very popular highway, even if it was 50 miles out of my way. And if I were going to risk it by traveling a secluded road I'd have an emergency kit in the back of my car. Blankets, batteries, a flash light, fire wood, and extra gas.

It's a sad thing that Mr. Kim died. It's even sadder knowing he didn't have to. My thoughts are with his widow now as she faces this Christmas alone.

Absolution

I think I know what has been going on with me. You know, the moodiness, the emotional roller coaster? I figured it out about 6:30am when I woke with fire in my belly. I made it to my bathroom in time to belch out the foulest fart in the land. A dragon flew out of my ass, I swear it. Then came the lava and I knew I was in trouble. This has been brewing for days.

My disease strikes again.

As if that's not bad, last night in class the Nazi Bitch concentrated on our hips and thighs. I woke in the middle of the night and could feel them throbbing. Usually when I'm in this state I shoot out of bed like a bolt of lightening and streak into the bathroom. This morning I hobbled out like a turtle with two legs, one in front and one in back. Sitting down (especially on hard porcelain) and standing is excrutiating. Oh, I am in HELL!

To top it all off I just took two Excedrin Migraines. Thank God for those things or I'd be shitty on both ends.

Yarg!

Feeling Weird

First of all let me just say this - I am not pregnant.

I have been in a very strange mood lately. Seems my emotions are trying to take over my life and I can't get a handle on them.

If something mildly irritates me on a regular basis I usually ignore it. Lately I've been getting so pissed I look to see if I am turning green. If something makes me happy I get all giggley like I've just won the lottery. It's as if my dial is turned to 100%, every action is met with a ridiculously over-emotional reaction.

For example, I read the blog of a girl who I like very much. What she talked about bothered me. I left a very long and...um, well....bitchy post. Over a CAKE! I felt slightly annoyed and the next thing I wanted to do was find her and rip her head off. What is wrong with me?

Then I read a story about a little boy who was hurt and I found myself damn near suicidal. Sadness swamped me and I almost cried. Then I get home and feel so much love for my husband that I wanted to run down the street screaming about it. Look at me! Look at me! I'm in love!

Is this the beginning of a mid-life crises? Or am I finally losing my mind?

Vroooom, Bitch!

I'm a Chevrolet Corvette!

You're a classic - powerful, athletic, and competitive. You're all about winning the race and getting the job done. While you have a practical everyday side, you get wild when anyone pushes your pedal. You hate to lose, but you hardly ever do.

Take the Which Sports Car Are You? quiz.

Ya Snowed In?

I was pleasantly surprised to have a three-day weekend as we were snowed in Friday. We lost a lot of branches. Thank the Goddess we had that tree cut down after the round of summer storms. It would have crushed both our cars and possibly a side of the house - best $1000 we ever spent.

We, luckily, did not lose electricity. Not so for my friends and family. Alissa lost power Thursday night and didn't get it until Saturday night. Her in-laws have a generator, so Alissa was forced to stay with them. Stress levels rose, fights ensued, it wasn't pretty. I'm sure she has a lot to say about it (or she will once she digs her way out of work), check out Issy's Room.

For the rest of the weekend we stayed mostly indoors. On Saturday the Stone Hill Winery in Hermann, MO, was having their Kriskringle Mart. This is a German tradition that I was fortunate enough to experience in Germany when I was a child. I loved this mart. My mom and dad would bundle us up and take us there. They'd buy us all bratwurst and mom and dad would share a beer. There was no fighting, no yelling, just a nice day full of food, shopping, and welcoming Christmas.

So I wanted to go, you know, to try and recapture those childhood memories. Alissa was in in-law hell (we were supposed to go together) so she cancelled. I was disappointed until hubby stepped up to the plate and volunteered to take me. The hour and a half drive was pretty, most of the trees were still ice covered. The sun glinting off those branches was beautiful. We get there and hurry to the main pavilion for the festivities.

I was expecting crafts, carolers, food, and German culture. I found a room full of high school art fair. It was boring, the food wasn't there, and the carolers had cancelled. We walked around for 7 minutes and were done. I bought a few bottles of wine and then we left.

I'm not disappointed, though. I enjoyed laughing and enjoying the day with my husband. I took a good nap when we got home. The rest of the weekend was involved with painting and football.

Alissa came over and gave me my Christmas present early (she wanted to make sure it fit). I love it! It's a full length leather coat with big buttons. I've been talking about getting a new coat for months, unknown to me that my husband had strict instructions to stop me at all costs. I can't wait to wear it out. It's still a bit wrinkly from packaging, but it's gorgeous! Now I feel I have to dress up just to wear it. It's not the sweats, trashy-hair, ugly-face kind of coat.