Ready For More?

Complaining.

Today was my friday, ironically my friday changes on a week by week basis because my days off are never the same these days, but anyway, today was the end of my stretch, and it was a long day. I got off easy as my work load dropped off this morning, then picked up this afternoon, so while everyone else was running around like the proverbial chicken without a head, I was not busy at all, we work independently of each other, so it's not like I could do their work for them, next time I might be the chicken. I was all prepped and prepared then my schedule changed, and I had some free time.

It was nice actually, I think I needed it. The last few days with the kiddo being sick I've sort of worn down with worry, and tonight I finally realized that I'm not feeling all that well myself right about now, so I sort of dragged through the afternoon at work wishing I was everywhere else but there. I mentioned to one of my co-workers that I would be quite happy when today was over, and that I didn't really feel like being there today. It was a moment of honesty, and I generally don't say stuff like that at work. Usually I'm just fine, but today was rough.

He sort of laughed in my face and said, "oh gosh, you're barely even here as it is!" Which is actually not true, I do spend 4 out of 7 days a week there, which is one day less than he does. So, I shot back with, "well, you can go part time too if you want. Believe me, we've given up stuff as a result of it, but it's well worth it if you ask me, even without the benefits." To which he replied, "I don't have any benefits as a full-timer." Which actually is not true, he get's paid days, and medical insurance if he wishes, and there are a few other benefits like a bigger paycheck as well, but I didn't feel the need to spell all of that out to him.

So, I said, "well, my kid has problems that need my attention, so I went part time so I can be available more for her." Then he said, "well my dog has problems, maybe I should go part time for him." Hmm, I do think I'm being egged on. I reply, "don't compare my kid to your dog. I think you're just jealous that I have more time off."

Perhaps realizing how he was coming across, he apologized and said, "I'm sorry, you're right, I am jealous, I wish I could be here less." I said, "well, you have a nice house don't you?" He affirmed, "yes, it's over 4000 square feet." I said, "well the house we will probably buy will be less than half that size, and it won't be in as nice an area as where you live, these are the things we give up, although I don't think me working one more day a week would make that big of a difference at this point, at least we're happy."

He then went on to say that he made really good money before he took this job and that is why he and his wife were able to buy such a nice house, plus I would add that they don't have any children, especially not children that get sick, but shit, he's in his 40s I can't help him if he hasn't figured this all out already. He certainly could not afford that house on our pay now. Plus, he bought his house several years ago, when house prices were much cheaper. Whatever, I'm not bitching about his 4000 square foot house, obviously, he would rather have one more day off a week.

This is not the first time I've been on the receiving end of a full-timer's jealousy. It's not like I go around rubbing it in, last thing I want to do is draw attention to the fact that I only work 4 days a week. Honestly, it is so worth it to me. Yes, I lose a little money, but it's nominal really. The taxes took a good portion of it anyway. I'm happy with my choices.

In some people's eyes we might not have a lot of "things" to show for our work, but you can't measure time with a dollar amount. You just can't. You can't place a dollar sign on happiness. My hubby is only home every other week, our 3 days together we do more, and spend more time together than we ever did when he was working that horrible 9-5 grind. I love it, and I love my life. He seems so much happier now. He's really proud of what he's accomplished, and so am I. From now on my standard response will be: "What? Are you just jealous?"

I do feel the resentment seething under the surface sometimes. Sometimes it's from the single mom's, who make comments like, "well, I didn't have a husband to help me out..." Sometimes it's from this one guy who's wife works full-time, and he loves to say, "why can't you? My wife does it." Umm, I'm glad I didn't have to run my infant into the day care center everyday thank you very much, and I'm not freakin apologizing for it.

Heh, I'm still happy. So, whatever.

My Little Plan

Is Not Working.

The little plan was simple, don't get sick for at least 4 months until hubby's new job provides medical insurance. It was wrong. We were wrong. It's not working. We had the strep throat a few weeks ago, and now we have the mystery rash. Friday night I took the youngster to the urgent care clinic. The strange rash that started the day before had progressed from what appeared to be an allergic reaction to something, to a bumpy rash covering her entire body.

It was not so long ago in my mind when my little baby was admitted into the hospital to receive 4 blood transfusions for an aplastic crisis that resulted from a very benign childhood illness a lot of people have never even heard of called 5th disease. The Parvo B19 virus is the culprit, and most kids are just fine, barely even affected by the bug, but not my kiddo, she already had an undiagnosed anemia which combined with the red blood cell attacking virus put her in the nasty position of having only about a 4th of the hemoglobin in her body necessary to function. It was scary beyond words having my baby be that sick, but once the donor's blood started pumping through her veins she perked up pretty fast.

Ever since I've been very cautious when it comes to strange rashes, or any illness that gets my mom senses in an uproar, I've seen what can happen. I panicked, and I made an appointment Friday night after work to have my kiddo seen. What the doctor said in the visit, which took a grand whopping total of 15 minutes, was the rash was caused by a virus, and she has a sinus infection. I had no idea her sinuses were even infected at all, but they were. He gave me a prescription for Omniflex, or something along that name, and we headed to the 24 hour Walgreen's store, where the very kind clerk informed me that the drug would cost $129.00! Being a polite sort, she was generous enough to call the doctor and ask if there was not something else that he would like to prescribe for the sinus infection since we were poor middle class Americans with no health insurance. He decided on good ole Augmentin, and we forked over $60.00 instead. A small price to pay all things considered.

And you know what else? I've found it's kind of embarrassing explaining to people why on earth as a 35 year old I wouldn't think ahead and have insurance. They sort of just look at you like "Oh, what a shame." Guess what, we're going to pay for it, and pay and pay and pay if things keep up. The doc wants us to pay a visit to the hemotologist, oh yeah right. Uh huh. Guess what, hemotologists generally do not have payment plans, and usually want cash up front for an office visit, which is all well and good, but the last time we saw the hemotologist we actually HAD insurance, and we still forked over $140.00! That was just a wee little co-pay you see. I can't imagine what it would cost without insurance.

Whoa, of course I realize there is no price on my kid's health. Yes, I'm watching her like a hawk right now, and I'm just crazy enough to head to the E.R. if things don't seem right. At this point, she's only been on the antibiotics for 24 hours so we will see how she is each day. One day at a time. So far I'm not real happy with the progress, she doesn't seem all that much better, and the rash is still presenting itself. The rash is supposedly from a virus, so it may just run its course and everything will be fine, at least I hope so.

It's been sort of tough, thank God my momma is here. Hubby is out of town this week so I'm pretty much on my own with it all, and it's been super busy at work, I couldn't even get the time off, of course if things were much worse, I would have had to insist that I be excused from work, but I hate doing that. I'm so lucky my employer is very kind and understanding, so if I had called in it probably would have been okay, but I managed to make it through without calling off.

I have the next few days off as luck would have it, so I can really watch her and also get her in somewhere if needed. I think we get health insurance in July or something. Oh and did I mention that my throat is starting to hurt? Oh well, that's life. As they say, "it could always be worse."

How About A Picture?

I hear they are worth a thousand words.

Strange Things

People Tell Me.

I can be a pretty good listener, and I love a good story. My husband doesn't think so, because he has often made the mistake of striking up a conversation when we've gone to bed, and being somewhat of a narcoleptic bent, I pretty much fall alseep whenever I lay my head down, it's even worse when I've got my leg thrown across his, and my arm across his chest, I'm a goner. He says "I must bore you, you always fall asleep on me when I'm talking to you." I reply, "It's just that your voice is so soothing, and whenever I get in a fairly comfortable state, I can't keep my eyes open."

But despite my tendency to fall asleep on people, I have managed to record in my mind some of the sillier things people have told me. There is my friend who told me she used to have a kitten that gave her hickeys while she slept. It seems the cat was taken too early from it's mother, and still had a strong desire to suckle, so it found a lovely little mole on her neck, and would suck on that thing for dear life hoping it would produce milk. I really cracked up when she told me this. She would wake up to a tiny little hickey on her neck.

My friend, the wacky one who constantly cracks me up with her insane antics, has a friend who is a born story teller. Apparently the woman was lying in her bed one winter night, when she heard a loud thud coming from her closet. Now, what she did next really baffles me because I would have run screaming from the apartment, but she being an inquisitive type, opened the closet door to find a man hanging upside down in her closet. The woman, I'll call her Sam because that's her name, and I'm pretty sure she doesn't have internet access, screamed, then shut the door and called the police.

The long story made short is that the man was the apartment building's handy man, and he was making no small fortune crawling from the attic into unsuspecting tenet's apartments and stealing watches, change and whatever else. I guess the dingle berry was somehow stuck, and the police had to pull him down. His story that he was checking the roof for leaks did not stick, there just was not enough moisture in the air to convince anyone. All that for $450 a month!

The wacky friend of mine relayed this story to me in the most dramatic fashion ever, and my dad and I laughed hysterically when I relayed it to him. The same friend has many many episodes that make my eyes water, and her antics are no small part of the charm of our 25 year long friendship. I should have known when she told me about the time she fell out of the back of her girl scout leader's Winnebago that this girl offered the promise of many laughs. Now, I know on the surface that falling out of the R.V. might sound scary, but she was not hurt all that much, just a few scrapes, the funny part is that the brownie leader kept driving before the girls could draw her attention to my friend hobbling on behind trying to catch the slow moving vehicle.

Now, most normal minded people might think of taking the child home, or to an emergency room, but not this brave troop leader, she pushed on. Come on, this woman was delivering girl scout cookies in an R.V. people! So, no, she had promised those girls McDonald's for a job well done, and nothing was going to get in the way of those Happy Meals. Luckily, with no concussion, my friend was able to enjoy her Cheeseburger with the other girls. It was the 80's, need I say more?

My uncle's stories are always a hit at any barbeque, he was an ornery young man, but thankfully he was steered down the right path and has stayed on the right side of the law as a police officer, but before he was in uniform, well that's another story. My favorite is how he and a bunch of his friends decided to hang a man from the town water tower. It seems that my grandfather was always bringing interesting things home from his travels as a truck driver delivering marble all over the country. One such item was a dummy he'd picked up somewhere. Well, Uncle and friends decided it would be a hoot to climb up that water tower and hang that dummy, with a note pinned to it's chest signed, "the hangmen". They thought it would be even more delightful to run to the popular hang out spot in town and tell everyone, especially the girls, that a man was up on the water tower and about to jump.

This being about the most exciting thing to happen had most of those kids running over to discover the man had already jumped. Well, rather than arresting them, the story was run on the front page of the paper the next day, with a picture of a police officer holding the rescued dummy. Everyone knew it was a joke, nobody pee'd their pants over it. He's still got the article, I saw it myself. He's also still got the newspaper from Lincoln's assassination. He wasn't there, but he's been entrusted with it by my grandmother, who collected all sorts of smart things.

It's funny what people can tell you if you stay awake long enough to listen. There's nothing like a good story. If only I could relay them as well as the original. Ah well.

We Are Naked

Unprotected.

While my husband gets his feet wet in his new job, our family has taken the calculated risk of going without health insurance. I know for illegal immigrants that's not such a scary thing, but for us regular tax payers, it's scary as hell. My husband had great health coverage in his last job, the only thing was, his job itself didn't pay that well, so we had to take the risk, in the hopes we'll make it.

It takes 4 months from the date of hire to be eligible for health coverage at his new job, so we are biding our time. What could happen in 4 months? Ha! Anything. I tell you, with even the smallest sniffle, I'm telling our daughter, "don't get sick, we don't have health insurance!" More than once I've said, "Don't jump on that, if you fall and break a limb, we don't have health insurance!" A little wishful thinking on our parts can go a long way. Well, aside from a strep throat infection, she's done really well. Granted that infection is going to cost us a couple hundred of dollars, and that's all if we're lucky! We haven't received the bill yet though.

We're one major health incident away from financial catastrophe. You see, my husband's income is such we would not qualify for any assistance at all, yet, we've not had a long time to save the increased income. We're about halfway through now. Hopefully we can make it. Since our daughter has Spherocytosis, certain mild viruses can put her in the hospital receiving blood transfusions, although it's not likely. This is always in the back of my mind. Of course there is no price on our precious offspring's health, but we'd rather have health coverage in any case.

There are many other things that can happen, including a giant asteroid hitting our little section of the earth, or God forbid, the bird flu, I'm thinking we should be all right though. Knock on something.

Odwalla fruit drinks, that's our coverage. I notice we're drinking a lot more fruit juices, and eating more fruit, hopefully to stave off illness.

Not Particularly Important To Anyone

Random Stuff.

In November of last year, I was in a car accident, where I was hit from behind while sitting in traffic. I was hit first by one car, then another car hit that car, and I was hit again. It is now May, and my truck sits totalled on the side of the road, the plates have run out, yet, I still have to pay to insure the stupid thing. As of yet, neither insurance company, Allstate, or American Family Insurance has done shit to rectify the situation in any way at all.

My health insurance would not cover any costs of treatment associated with the accident. I have had to essentially pay out of pocket for any treatments I've received as a result of the accident. Since the accident, I have not slept well, and am given to bouts of pain and headaches as a result of the whiplash I got. I was told to see a chiropractor, physical therapist, and receive massage, all of which required that I make an agreement with those people that they would offer services, and be reimbursed when the insurance companies settled my claim. Not exactly an indeal situation when considering, I'm dependent on the insurance companies doing the right thing, and actually paying those people, or I will be forced to.

I take advil, and occasionally a mild muscle relaxant on nights where my neck feels particularly stiff. I don't go to the chiropractor twice a week, have physical therapy twice a week, or get massage twice a week because:

1. I'm not comfortable racking up bills in the thousands while relying on an insurance company to get off it's ass and pay for it if they even do. It's something about us being a tort state, which basically means, everyone get's screwed, except the insurance company.

2. I'm not going to be compensated for time that would take away from my job, and my life because I refuse to give these insurance companies permission to contact my employer and ask all sorts of nosy questions which is none of their gosh darn business.

3. I don't think it is my employers business that I'm filing a claim against these insurance companies. My health, and private life is still my own business, and I don't want my bosses knowing my personal stuff.

So, I am taking care of myself. I get massaged when I can. Perhaps, my long term pain will be more because I didn't follow their orders, but since I'm not the one who was at fault in the accident, I don't feel the need to be directed by some shitty insurance company who just wants to screw around with my life and time.

More was taken in the accident than the insurance companies would even consider paying for. How about the fact I was driving that old truck because it was inexpensive, and we were trying to save for a house at the time, and didn't want to try to get financing while being saddled with a car payment. They see that truck as having a small monetary value, I saw it as my transportation to and from work, worth much more than a couple thousand dollars. Since my transportation was destroyed, I've had to buy another car, am now paying full coverage insurance for it, and our plans to buy a home have been put off at least 4 months beyond our original goal, that's if we can even get financed with these car payments. That's just my tough luck I guess.

All they had to do was own up to it, pay for my truck, and post accident care, and my troubles but since they have dicked around so much, I had to get an attorney to deal with them, I don't have the knowledge or the time to deal with two bickering insurance companies, now they must pay him as well. I don't know when, if ever this thing will be resolved. I'm doing the best I can.

Follow Your Bliss

Right Off A Cliff.

The other day this fellow and I were having a friendly discussion about gas prices, and I made a statement to the effect that perhaps people who wanted to stand in the way of oil production should stop driving and leave the rest of us alone. A bystander piped up with, "well, the people who don't want the drilling have given up their cars, and most of them ride bikes, and I'm going to get rid of my car just as soon as I can..."

To which I succinctly replied, "well, I'm not giving up my car, and I don't have to." Oh but there was so much more I wanted to say. First, I wanted to call bullshit. This person actually commutes 70 miles each way, to and from work, a fact which I politely did not point out. I drive less than 10 miles each way. Who is the greedy one? Who is the hypocrite? I'm not suggesting anyone else should give up their transportation and ride bikes for a start. We should all give up driving our gas guzzlers because 5 of these people actually stood on their own laurels and gave up their car? They don't want to give up their cars, they've got plenty of reasons why you should though, but their lives and well being and circumstances are so much more important than yours are.

The person did have a point though, she said, "well, most of them live in big cities where they can use public transport, or ride bikes to work..." Again, it would have been just too easy to smear her nose in it in much the same way that one would do to a puppy who just pee'd on the floor. So, we should all just up and move to New York city I guess. We can all live in an urban area, yeah, everyone can do that. We don't need farms, or rural communities, and we most certainly don't need those snotty suburbs where all the heterosexual s.u.v. drivers live. We can grow tomatoes and green beans on our balconeys, we can heat our studio apartments in the winter with the heat given off from the compost heap in our living room.

Just where does she think the veggies she worships come from? Does she think that people living in Manhattan board some train and head out of town to work in fields?

Right now we need oil, we need gas, plain and simple. This country has it's own oil and gas, now I'm not necessarily opposed to buying someone else's, however if we were to depend on our own, we would be doing our part as my dad says, to put those sheiks back on the camels. We have our own, and we need to gather it and refine it for use. Sure, I think we should conserve, preserve, and use resources wisely, that's only smart, that does not preclude our needs.

Seriously, I can't imagine what would happen if the oil and gas just stopped. How many people use gas to heat their homes in the winter? I'm sure it would impact us in ways no one could even imagine. Now, I realize your average hippy doesn't take showers as often as everyone else, but I'm sure, even when they do, they, like the French, want their weekly shower to be with hot water.

Who are these people? Really? I don't see any bike riding commuters around here. Something smells funny. The hypocrisy is outrageous. This is a classic case of what's good for the goose is not good for the gander. Do as I say, and not as I do.

Release the frickin' oil and gas already.

My inspiration today.

I Don't Claim To Know

Anything At All.

All I know is that something is wrong. I believe we are a nation in a fair amount of turmoil. We've gone too far. We've become too dependent on the government solving our problems. We don't deal with conflicts amongst ourselves with any bit of fairness or maturity, and the gov is always there to step in and "mediate". Problem is, our gov is made up of people who are not impartial themselves, and who blatantly pursue their own betterment and interests right in front of us.

Today I heard the cashier at Wal-Mart telling the customer in front of me, who appeared to be of some aquaintance, that she only takes home about $200.00 every two weeks. I was appalled. We've all heard tales of how Wal-Mart employees depend on social programs to fill in the gaps, and make up for the low wages they are paid. No one in any city can live on that kind of money. We all know the trick of the trade in which employers hire only "part time" workers so that they can avoid paying out any sort of benefits like health insurance.

I realize some would say, "well, they can look for a better job, they don't have to work there..." and so on. Sure, I can see that I suppose. I know at one point I was so desperate for work I would have skipped with glee if I had a job at Wal-Mart. Here Wal-Mart can hire military wives, retirees, and so on and not have to worry about paying a living wage. Yes, I like the low prices at Wal-Mart, that's why I shop there, but I also can see that I can easily shop sales at other stores, stores which do actually pay their employees enough to live on, besides Wal-Mart's meat is disgusting, their produce is not all that great either, I generally have to go other places anyway.

Now I know I risk sounding like a liberal here, be that as it may, I can assure any that I'm far from it. I don't support pinko commie socialists at all. That doesn't mean that I think Corporations should be able to get over the way they do. There has to be a solution, one that doesn't necessarily involve turning to uncle sam, and regulating the hell out of businesses to the point that they would rather up and move to China then operate here. Besides, most of that regulation really hurts small businesses much more than rich corporations more than likely.

I don't give a flying rat carcass for the silver spoon fed rich. I honestly don't know how those people sleep at night. How does it feel to live so lavishly while one's employees feed from the public trough and live in poverty. I would be so embarrassed. Really.

Whenever talk of raising the minimum wage is raised, business owners are up in arms about how it will ruin their business and so on. Maybe so. I don't claim to know. But I ask myself, seriously, how many freakin' billions is enough for some of these people? Really! Sure, not every business owner is a multi millionaire. Some are just struggling folks who can't live with the idea of being pushed and prodded by human resources, and a plethora of managers anymore.

The bible speaks of this, the scripture has stuck with me, it goes something like this: It's easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than it is for a rich man to enter heaven. It's not that rich men are bad, or evil, but that I suppose people will do some rather ruthless and greedy things to become rich. Being rich is not what is really important. And not everyone who is rich is ruthless and greedy.

I guess it all boils down to what are we willing to pay for? As a society, it seems we place high dollar value on Hollywood actors, and professional sports players. It really doesn't take any amount of skill to empty a trash can I suppose, although, were there not people willing to do it, I would have to laugh to see some people trying. It does not take a whole lot of skill to stand at a cash register and scan items, push a few buttons and give out proper change, but it's not as easy as it might seem either. Try having a person who hasn't bathed in two days, who smoked a carton of cigarettes, drank a 5th of Jack, who is suffering from serious digestive problems breathing in your face and calling you an idiot for not working fast enough to suit them, it definitely takes a certain amount of determination not to tell that person to immediately go piss in a river.

Many times I have considered what my life would be like if I didn't have my husband, my partner, my rock to get through all of this with me. I chose carefully when it came to marriage. I'm afraid many people do not think ahead. I'm afraid many have been deluded into thinking that single parenthood was a viable option. Of course it can be done, it's not something I would recommend setting out to do on purpose. Sometimes there is no choice, many times hindsight would have been very helpful.

It is no accident that next year my husband and I will claim over $70,000.00 as our income. We made that happen. Perhaps it was just good luck, but we actively pursued our dreams or it wouldn't have happened otherwise. Two years ago we actually claimed just over $10,000 income. We've come a long way since then. That was a really really hard year for us. I honestly don't know how we did it.

We've made a series of choices that have led us to this point. My dad always says people get to where they are by a series of choices that they make. These are the choices we made. We chose to risk comfort for opportunity. We chose to sacrifice time together for advancement. We chose to be humble and ask for help, information and a shot. We choose to be drug free, he drinks a beer here and there, but for the most part we are alcohol free. We both choose to work in physically demanding jobs because they pay the best for the amount of education we have.

Before those choices were made, we chose each other. We each chose a stable partner, with a future. We chose to wait until we were married to have a child. We chose to drive crappy cars that stank because they were affordable. We've made some mistakes. Some real doozies. We've paid for them. We'll make more I'm sure.

I don't know where we'll be tomorrow. Perhaps things could happen to land us at the bottom of the pay scale, making nothing, hoping for something. It could happen. At least we'll have each other.

In my mind, I could still end up making 5.15/hour somewhere. Nothing is promised. I just can't imagine what sort of person would feel comfortable paying their employees a wage like that. They must know they can't barely live on that. I think I'll lay off Wal-Mart shopping for a while. I'm really disgusted with them. We'll see how long that lasts. Freaking Crack-Mart.

Mr. Conner

My Napping Partner.

I Really Need To Do Something

Other Than Read Blogs.

It's my day off, and here I sit. Wasting time, sweet precious time. Time that could probably be better spent doing laundry, receiving a pedicure, or taking a shower. There are groceries to be bought, cat boxes to be cleaned, and all I want to do is sit here and read blogs. The idea of taking a nap has crossed my mind too many times to be ignored. I will be getting in the bed soon. The thought of it is something akin to what a crack addict must feel when anticipating his next fix. Cuddling up with 3 pillows and my thick silky comforter is pure heaven to me. Why does sleep have to feel so good?

My love of napping started in High School. I was compelled to come home and crash on my bed just about everyday after school. This started a vicious cycle of staying up late, getting up early and being chronically tired day in and day out, the only relief, and motivation was knowing that I would eventually take a nap, and the world would go bye bye for that precious hour. Those habits developed in my youth have carried over and affected my adult life, I still love a good nap.

As I've aged I've overcome the inability to go to bed early. I can no longer function on a few hours of sleep even if I know I can get through the day and take a nap later. When I was in my 20's I could still get by on a few hours of sleep. In my 30's I would not dream of torturing myself in such a manner. I specifically plan to get my 8 hours of sleep each night, I'd be useless to anyone without it. I generally do not take naps on days that I work, I reserve napping for my days off, when I can do so guilt free, and without messing up my night sleeping schedule. Although, as an adult, I don't really think there is such a thing as a guilt free nap. Not when there are so many things to be done.

I remember visiting my grandparents during the summer when I was a teen ager, and how my grandfather was appalled that I took a nap right in the middle of the day. He said, "I haven't taken naps since I was 2 years old, naps are for babies!" He was somewhat disgusted by the idea of a practically grown person taking a nap. I made sure that summer to wake him up every time I saw him nodding off in his recliner, I would get right up close to him and say, "are you asleep?" He would say "no, I'm just resting my eyes!" Ha! Got ya! He was taking naps, but since he didn't get in bed and go to sleep, he did not see falling asleep in his chair the same way.

There are times I've had to defend my nap taking addiction to others. People are so judgemental about it. Much like my grandfather was. I really can't help it. I wish I was one of those people who ran on energy reserves all the time, but I don't. I can literally fall asleep in a few short minutes at any given time. I've actually had people time me. My brother swears I suffer from some sort of narcolepsy. Others might just say I'm lazy. I've even thought maybe I am just lazy.

I do manage to make it through the day at work without a nap, that doesn't mean it doesn't cross my mind. It does. Just about everyday. I try not to let on to people that I am sleepy. They'll just think I'm lazy. I try to hide it all the time. I keep myself as busy as possible to get through the sleepy times. I hate the idea of someone thinking I'm lazy. I'm not lazy. I'm just freaking tired and want to sleep.

My secondary addiction is to caffeine, the anti nap. I have to have my coffee each morning. I drink about 2 cups. It carries me through the morning. After lunch is usually when I'm the sleepiest. I rarely drink coffee at lunch. I mostly only drink it in the morning. I do usually have a coke at lunch, the caffeine perks me up, and makes the afternoon tolerable. After that I'm fine, and can function the rest of the day. I'm still tired when I get home, and I could easily go to bed, but then I would not sleep that night. I stay up and try to get in bed at a reasonable hour.

Even though I have to fight the urge to sleep throughout the day, I would rather have it this way. I know people who take at least an hour to fall asleep at night. There is nothing more torturous than being tired and not being able to fall asleep, and knowing the clock is ticking away and that alarm will be going off soon. That just sucks.

I've been much more tired throughout the day since my car accident. I don't sleep as well at night, I wake up quite often with my neck stiff. I can't get comfortable as a result.

Last night Mr. Conner slept with me. He woke me up numerous times. He wanted to be petted, and cuddled. Everytime I moved he would wake up and meow at me over and over, purring in my ear and nudging me to pet him. He's been following me around since he came home. He slept on my head, cuddled up right next to my face, across my side, and in my space all night. I would wake up with his fur in my nose, and have to try to move him, which he did not take too kindly. Right now he is laying on my lap as I type this. Poor little guy. I get the feeling he is really glad to be home, warm and safe again. I'm glad he's back. He's got a real personality that one.

I think it's time for Mr. Conner and me to go take a nap.

Random Thoughts

As Usual.

Mr. Conner has been missing for almost 2 weeks. He made a break for it one night. We've worried about him. Tonight he returned home, he is skinny and stinky, but pretty much all right. He's eating and getting some luvin's here and there. I wiped him down with a warm wet wash cloth, he didn't seem to mind. He smells like motor oil, he's probably been hiding under people's cars. His little white paws aren't white any more, they're grey. He'll clean up eventually I suppose.

My brother, who is 8 years younger than me, confessed that when he was a little shit assed kid he thought it would be funny to hide under my bed and grab my feet when I got home. I would have been a teen ager then. He waited under the bed, and when I finally came in he had lost his nerve, and thought it wouldn't be nice to scare the crap out of me. He said he then had to wait until I went to sleep to sneak out because he knew if he came out it would scare me. And it would have, I've always been a huge chicken.

I got a little nervous as he told the story, I thought he might say I did something like made out with my boyfriend or something. He said I just came in and went to sleep. Whew.

Of course his little prank reminded my sister of the time that she and my best friend went in and tacked all of my underwear to the ceiling in my room. My sister was always the sneaky one, she acted so prissy, but she was always in trouble for something, and worse, she would get caught, and try to lie her way out of things. Good thing she's grown into a person of great moral character now, we were a bit worried at times. Haha, she'd be so mad if she read that, but she never reads my blog, so I think we're all right. She's a blond again now, so most of this will be over her head anyway.

My father climbed a 6 foot privacy fence to rescue Mr. Conner, he then climbed back over the fence with the cat. He's going to be 65 this year. They don't make them like that anymore. Dad was a hero. I thought about all the things my dad has endured, and survived, and all he has accomplished, and thought wow, he's tough. Of course, my mom was every bit a part of much of it. She's the one who put him through college. She's always supported him and cared for him. She used to send him packages when he was in Vietnam, she would pack them with popcorn. Real popcorn, which she no doubt cooked on the stove. She keeps him calm, and in line. He does anything she asks of him. She never lets him miss a meal, and packs his lunch everyday for work.

When they first married they were so poor at times they ate nothing but pancakes, with syrup made from scratch. I can't imagine. They have worked hard their whole lives and have never taken hand outs from anyone. My dad still works full-time. I don't know when he plans to retire. My parents pay way too much in taxes. It's a crime how much the government takes from them. My dad drives an old car ('79) back and forth to work. They could buy a new one, but think the one they have is just fine for now. It doesn't have high mileage on it, about 70,000. It sat in a barn for years, it was my grandmother's car.

Hubby comes home tomorrow. This week went fast. I'm glad he'll be home so we can cuddle a lot and fall all over each other. We usually do that the first couple of days, then we settle down a bit. I miss him a lot when he's gone, but honestly, we spend more quality time together now then we did when he was doing the 9-5 grind. People can't imagine how that could be, but it's so much easier when he has the whole week off. I try to time my days off with when he is here, so it works out pretty good.

Right now we are just taking things as they come. This is all so new to both of us. He's liking it all right, he wants to see how things can go for him in his new field. We've discussed the idea of the family moving up there. As it stands right now, he's driving 8 hours each way to get home and back to work. That's a really long drive for him after a long week. Plus it's a lot of miles on his car. The only problem is, I have a good job myself here. I'm pretty sure it would be difficult to replace. Sure what I do I could do there, but I'm not sure it would be so easy to transfer, and I love my job here, and my co-workers, and I make pretty decent money, we'd be giving up my income, and the flexibility that my job offers, which will be really hard to find again. I work part-time and I'm able to maintain things while he is away because of that.

He worries a lot about the wear and tear on his car, but with our combined incomes we could buy a new car every few years if we needed to. He really just has to get 5 years out of his. I will easily get 10 out of mine because I don't drive that much. If we moved up there, he still would not see us during his work week, but the kiddo and I would just be sitting up there all by ourselves. A lot of big decisions to be made indeed. We'll just have to wait and see.

Well, at least I didn't write about how tired I've been, and how everyday I've come home from work and proceeded to snore very loudly on the couch. Oops, I guess I just did. I will definitely spare the oh my gosh my allergies are going wild bit. But they are. It's awful. I'm so allergic to this state.

Ho hum. I'm off to bed. Maybe I'll have something important and interesting to talk about tomorrow. I can't imagine what would change, but who knows?

I Had A Dream

Bird Whisperer.

I had a dream I was running down the street (that would only happen in dream world) and looking up happily at a blue bird flying about my head. I was following the bird, with my hand raised in the air trying to get the bird to land on my hand. It would swoop down and almost touch my hand, until finally it landed on my hand, and I kept running with the pretty blue bird saying, "I'm a bird whisperer! I'm a bird whisperer!" I woke up laughing. What a wacky dream.

Taking It To The Extreme

Meltdowns.

My father says it all the time, "these days, we take every position to the extreme!" I'm much inclined to agree with him. Perfect example, those who love to spout the "seperation of church and state" non-sense. Come on, librarians wearing crosses, Christmas trees in the town square, visible religious displays on any public property at all, government office clerks being ordered to remove festive decor from their desks, it's just plain ridiculous. Children in public schools no longer have Christmas programs or parties, no more Halloween, or Easter, all have been conveniently renamed to more appropriate secular celebrations like, Fall Harvest, and Winter Celebration.

People act like they are going to die from one whiff of second hand smoke. Now, I understand someone not wanting to smell cigarette smoke in public places, but at least allow businesses the freedom to provide smoking areas for their smoking guests if they choose. Smokers are people too.

Taxes are too high. The good ole gov takes over $1000.00/month just from my husband's paychecks, that does not include what is taken from mine, I don't know what they take, I've stopped looking, it just pisses me off. April 14th has become the great re-distribution of wealth day in this country. Our little family of 3 clings with all our might to middle class, fighting desperately to stay above poverty line. We make just enough, or too much that we pay quite a lot, but the money we're paying we need, but Uncle Sam doesn't think we need it, he thinks someone else needs it more. Has anyone noticed the price of housing?

My husband is busting his balls out there to get our family in better financial standing, but $1000/month of that goes to what? Not to our retirement that's for certain, not to buy a home, or a better education for our child who can barely read. No, it goes to some fat bitch collecting $600/month in food stamps, and waiting for tax time to get her "earned income credit" nevermind that it's someone else's earned income she's getting.

I have friends clinging desperately to middle class that do not have health insurance, but some ILLEGAL immigrant can go in and get immediate financial assistance and health services for FREE. Then, have the audacity to fly a fucking Mexican flag and demand rights at "protests".

Oh yes, let's legalize all of them. That's extreme. I work with a woman from the Ukraine who sends money home to her family suffering there, she's waiting 7 years in hopes that her son and his family can come here. How do you think she feels about illegal immigration?

Don't tell me Mexicans do jobs that Americans won't do. I do not believe that at all. And what happens if we give them amnesty, or legalize them or whatever the idiots in Congress have on the table today? Do you think they will still want the jobs no one else supposedly wants? Hell no. It took me over a year to find a job after hubby left the military. I'm terrified of being unemployed again ever.

Want a positive note here? I know how important it is to be positive. The only plus I see from the immigration boom is that is that they are not bad people, they value family, God, and seem for the most part just want to be left alone. They don't make bad neighbors, at least not from my experience. They share the same types of values give or take a few customs here and there. Mexican families we want, rogue roving bands of Mexican gangs we don't.

Do I have faith our gov will handle all of this well? Oh God no. They're going to screw it all up royally. Their careers will not be lost on this cause, and they will act accordingly.

The other day I watched an expose on Communist China, where a reporter was secretly documenting those living in tents where their homes used to be. Some of the families had lived in the same home for generations, but it was all being torn down so that high rise buildings could be built in their place. It's all for the greater good you see. Sort of reminded me of the land grabs taking place here in our own country thanks to the wisdom of the cronies on the Supreme court, and eminent domain. We're turning into a bunch of pinkos here. Those old bastards should all be fired. I could interpret the constitution better than that. Buh bye property rights.

So, here are the solutions I know of for these problems. Tell the sep of church and state crowd to go stuff a turkey with themselves. (won't happen) Forget about it if you are a smoker, there is no solution coming, prepare for the days that you will not receive health insurance, or be hired for a job if you smoke, I don't think that is too far off. Don't expect any of those heavy taxes on cigarettes to be a benefit to you at all either, I know they said it was to defray health costs associated with smoking, but they've spent the money on something else, and since you're a stupid smoker you don't deserve help anyway. At least it won't be you forever, I see the "we know better than you do" types agitating about fat peeps now. You'll be old news soon.

If you are a middle class type, hang on, help is not on the way. Resign yourself to that fact, and keep paying. Do the best you can with what they let you keep. Think small. And try not to get sick.

As to illegal immigration, about the best idea I've heard is, build a big ass fence. Then, make people wait in line like everybody else. This is not the early 1800's anymore. We've got upwards of 300 million folks here now. We will find somebody to prune our bushes, and clean the rich Hollywood liberal's mansions. Round 'em up and send 'em home. There are many other people in the world that might like a chance to gain citizenship here as well, they also come from downtrodden lands. We should be fair about this right? Wait in line like everybody else.

On eminent domain, I suggest we stop making policies that mimic communist models for a start.

Got any better ideas?

I Now See How It Works

Get This.

There are some who use the negativity thing as a weapon. I've finally seen it in action. The thing that I could not put my finger on that bothered me about all this be positive no matter what stuff has finally become clear to me. Let's face it, when working in close quarters, folks can get on each other's nerves, but being professionals, people must overcome petty differences and work together in a somewhat friendly manner, even if they would never be the sorts to go out after work and have a drink together. I can handle that, it goes back to what I was saying about treating each other with dignity and respect.

I'm still trying to understand just what exactly is expected of me as an employee. I see that in the group we have many different sorts, but we've all been instructed in no uncertain terms that as a group we are to avoid those of the negative bent. For the greater good and morale and all, and maybe even for the children, if we employed them, we have to keep our chins up, and have a happy demeanor.

Now with this new thing, whenever a co-worker says something negative, it is perfectly acceptable to shun them, throw your hands in the air and say, "I don't want this negativity!" It happened to me. I didn't realize that I was being offensively negative the other day, but it was pointed out to me by an obviously morally superior person. There we were on our lunch break, and I had the audacity to say, "I don't know that I really like that particular famous singer, he's sort of weird to me." Boy, had I let the cat out of the bag with that statement. Immediately, a co-worker who was sitting at the same table, said, "I'm getting away from this negativity!" And got up and moved to another table. I swear it happened.

Well, of course I was a bit surprised, but then I thought about it more. How passive aggressive can you get? I can see how this whole negativity thing can be used now. If you're feeling particularly pissy, and feel like taking it out on someone, it's perfectly acceptable to target anyone saying anything that could remotely be construed as negative, and proceed to embarrass them. How satisfying. How superior.

The co-worker did say after it was obvious that I did not find that action or statement the least bit entertaining that it was a joke. Haha, isn't that hilarious? I didn't think so. I've never taken too kindly to jokes like that. Oh and by the way, I was informed that this co-worker actually did like the singer I was referring to, a lot. I wanted to say, well, are you fucking related to him or something because you sure are taking a half hearted little comment very seriously. Whatever.

There you have it.

Don't Get Me Wrong

I Am Happy.

I know the post below this one may sound like I think being positive is a bad thing. Well, I do think too much of anything could be a bad thing, but in general I think being a happy sort is not so wrong. Some people just take it too far, and will accept nothing else. It's an impossible measure by which to judge a person's character which is what some proponents of positive thinking seem to do. We all have bad days, and unhappy thoughts. Some of us have more than others.

It is dishonest at best to pretend that people who acknowledge negative things are somehow flawed, and just unhappy people. I'll never believe it. Ever. As long as shitty things happen, I know that someone somewhere is thinking something negative about it. As long as people are people and step on each other's toes at times, people will get bent out of shape and piss and moan about it. Some people are better at hiding their true feelings about things, I never trust those people. I am much more likely to trust the person who is willing in such an environment to say, "man, this stinks!'' then the one who tries to pretend otherwise.

Sure it is a waste of energy to bitch and complain about things that are small and will not change. It is negative to do so. Find the silver lining or something, but don't try to tell me that I'm somehow a bad person because I don't play along. Sometimes it just feels better to say it, then be done with it. Granted, no one has actually told me specifically that I'm a negative person, however, the idea is that anyone who thinks negative thoughts is. That is the message. I think negative things sometimes, so I am indirectly implicated I suppose. Try as I might, at times I feel as if I might burst if I don't get some things off my chest.

I was much happier when I wasn't being hammered with this be positive crap. Say it once, but must it be a theme at every pep meeting? I guess it wouldn't be a pep meeting if someone wasn't bitching about everyone else being negative, although I'm not even sure who all these negative people are, everyone I work with seems to be fairly happy most of the time, give or take a moment here and there. It's not so intolerable, or at least that is what I thought until it was pointed out over and over again, that no, people are not happy. Oh, I see.

How about hammering in the idea that people treat each other with dignity and respect. That might help.

Welcome To The Happy Thoughts Re-education Training Camp, Leave Your Personality At the Door

Smile.

Welcome. We know what you are thinking, and it's not happy, in fact, it's not positive at all, and such thoughts will not be tolerated here. We don't like people who don't think happy thoughts, we don't like people who complain, speak their minds, or any other such negative things. There are more of us than you, accept our ways or leave.

We are not going to tell you if we think you are one of the negative ones, the ones who can't be happy. We will just sit and let you stew with that thought, that way, you will try harder to hide your negative energy, and we won't have to hear you complain. How many of you are sitting there now wondering, am I the person? Am I the one? Do I say negative things? I know I've said negative things, they must know about my secret thoughts, it must show on my face.

They talk about the negative people, the undesirable ones all the time, but they never say who they are, or how they know. They must suspect someone of this awful behavior, maybe me. Maybe so and so, or someone. Who knows, maybe all of us.

Give up your negativity, you are flawed, you are the one who is wrong, unlikeable, and not wanted here. Give up now you will not be tolerated.

I Don't Know What's Come Over Me

I Just Don't Care.

The question most in my mind as I sat down here at the computer was, should I blog or paint my toes? Both are equally amusing, and both are pretty much meaningless to most other people. I checked my favorite sites hoping to find something to muse over, lots of good stuff, just nothing being said that I felt an overwhelming desire to contribute to.

I thought to myself as I continued to contemplate the question, what's wrong with me? Have I gone soft? Don't I care enough about anything to write about something? What about illegal immigration? Or, Ward Churchill getting his butt handed to him by Hannity last night on Fox? Yet, nothing. And, I'll tell you why, I'll always tell you why, I've become a chicken turd.

Complete and total chicken turd that's me. I'm afraid to say what I really think, and I do think about these things. Now you may ask yourself, what kind of fool has a blog that is afraid to say anything on it? Me, that's who.

What if my employer got ahold of this blog? Am I willing to lose my job for my ideals? I work in corporate America, in a very PC environment. We're all wound tighter than corks around there, I can't share the types of views I hold at my work place. I can't say what I think at all, unless it is to agree with the ruling thought of the management team. That is, if I want to remain in any sort of good favor around there.

At my core, I know this is wrong. I know it is dangerous. That people can't say what they think without whispering amongst themselves seems a frightening condition to be in. Sure it's not China, or Saudi Arabia, or North Korea, we do still have the means to express our views, to say things that are unpopular, but the cost of such is rising. The risks becoming more significant. Perhaps I suffer from paranoia, and have perceived something that is not there.

In that case I should have just painted my toes. I've just wasted a good half hour of boob tube watching. Shut up and watch the tube. Let someone else tell you what to think.

Hubby's Home

We're Happy.

He's been out in the wilds, but he's back now for some rest and relaxation. His car was filthy when he got home. He's really put the 4x4 to the test, so far so good. The Before and After.
I'm a nerd.

The Best Posts Happen At 3:00 a.m.

It's Not 3:00 a.m.

If it was I could pretty much guarantee this would be good, but since it's not, well, you just get the usual bloviating and emotional upheaval that I serve up here. I must warn any who mistakenly venture onto this site expecting to find something important happening, nothing important happens here--ever. In fact, to this date I have broken at least 27 of the cardinal rules of blogging, those standards set forth by the biggest, and most influential bloggers out there. The number one rule being--don't blog about blogging--for to do so shows one and all that you have nothing important to say, and you basically suck.

That being said, I have reached the point that I will offer free Starbucks frappuccinos to my niece per hour that she willingly fixes this hole in the wall up. I want to at least look like I've got something important to say. Until then more mediocrity is to follow.

Yes, I did buy a $98.00 purse, but it was on sale and I only actually paid about 25 bucks for it, I want to follow the same principle on this blog here. Make it look good, even if it is cheap.

The truth is, since November of 2005 my life has been a mess. We moved in November, you would know that if I hadn't deleted that information. By some law of physics I suppose somewhere in the universe another set of life forms have received that electronic transmission, and are scratching their scaly heads in wonderment. Who knows? I guess it could happen.

Oh yes, so we moved. Since then things have been a bit tough. I can't actually even talk about it. It's too emotional. We're in a major transistion right now. Another one? So soon? Yes. Another one. I can't help it, sometimes these things just happen. This is one of those times. Although all the warning signs were there, we really did not anticipate that daddy in law would really break up with the wonderful woman he was living with, we did not expect that he would want his house back. Lord knows it was so much easier for my husband, myself, our daughter, our dog, and our 3 cats to up and move then it would have been for daddy in law, of course. Especially given the amount of notice we had.

I don't blame the man for wanting his house and all, even if we were paying his house payment plus per month. He needs that 3 bedroom 2 bath tri-level house with the huge yard all to himself. Our mistake was thinking he was stable to begin with and even going there. I wish we had never moved there. Anyway, at the time, we did not think this would happen, but we ignored the warning signs. We were there when it was convenient for him to have us there, then we got the boot.

At the time I had only been in my job just over 6 months, and we were starting to make a financial recovery, but were not there yet. Yes, I'm bitching. I never promised a rose garden here. I love that song by the way.

But that's the least of our problems. We moved. It was hard. We did it though. We were completely and totally broke. We've made some mistakes along the way in life, but we've always been on our own feet. It wasn't so easy this time.

Since we moved we've been scraping along, and getting by with the help of our family. Not in the form of monetary donations, but as in mom and dad let us move in with them for a little while. I'm so embarrassed to admit that. Yeah, I'm blogging from my parents basement, oh shut up. They opened their 6 bedroom, 3 bath bi-level's doors to us. Even as big as this house is, we're all cramped. It's been a sort of hell. Don't get me wrong, we're not ingrateful. We're very thankful my parents were willing to help us out, but my husband and I have been living with this sort of shame about the situation.

We have actually tried to hide the fact from people in our lives. Only a few people at work even know about the situation, and I've sworn them to secrecy. I know I shouldn't care, but I'm embarrassed. My parents are such fine people, they don't need my family here taking up space. They have assured me that everything is all right with them, they just want us to get on our feet. Dad always says, "I can't leave you kids a bunch of money, but if I can give you some space and buy you some time, I'm happy to do it."

Before you go on judging, let me tell you what we have done. My husband and I realized that we could not even afford to get into our own place. Being the sort of man he is, my husband took the bull by the horns and scooped up an opportunity to place us in a better financial position in life. That's what he's doing right now. He's in Wyoming working his balls off in whatever weather happens to be that day. He'll be home tomorrow, I can't wait for that.

I am holding down the fort here with my job, which is a good job. We're trying to make something happen for us. We're putting our best foot forward, and doing whatever we can to survive. Yeah, we live with my parents, but we won't always be here very soon we will be in our own place again. We'll all breathe a sigh of relief when that day comes.

I have been an emotional basketcase lately, and this is why. Sometimes I just want to go and get an apartment, but we'd have to give up our pets, and that would be hard. My parents are animal lovers too, and they would not want us to do that. It's going to be hard to take Mr. Connor back now, my dad has got pretty attached to him. I never even see the cat anymore, he's always sitting on my dad's lap.

Over the years when I was growing up I remember my parents opening their home to people in need. This time, it was us. When I grow up I want to be just like them. They are the most generous people I know.

There, I've confessed. Now you know what the bug has been.

I Can't Think Of Anything Unimportant To Say

At All.

You know what I am? I'm the bad guy in the movie that won't die even after being shot in the face 30 times. I keep doing this, but I really don't have a thing to say at all. And that's nothing to write about.

It's lonely. I'm lonely. I want to talk about things, but I don't know what to talk about anymore. I have a whole folder dedicated to one sided conversations with complete strangers, they talk, I stop by and listen, but I don't talk back. I guess that's sort of rude on my part.

Hehe I laugh at myself. I really need to "get a life." Damn hormones. I'm going to cry now.

It's Snow Fun

But It Was Cold, Cold, Cold!

It snowed, the kiddo was out of school, and luckily I was off today, so we had an extra day together. Hubby left this a.m. to head out on his next "hitch", so we were lolly gagging around in pajamas. My brother came up with this fantastic idea of going sledding. This truly appealed to my inner child, although my outer fat ass needed some convincing.

Eventually I caved and we found the ole blow up snow tubing thing. It had never been used, I had bought it for my lovely daughter for Christmas, and this was the first real snow we've had since. We managed to get the thing inflated, which was quite a task, and we decided that mom and dad's front yard would be a good place to start since we were short on ideas as to where to go.

There are rules that transcend time when it comes to surfing the hill in my parent's front yard, something my daughter had never really done. First rule, we make a track, and stay in it. This used to work much better with trashbags we found, at least that's what my sister and I used to use. Of course we had perfectly good sleds in the garage, but the trash bag was more fun.

Daughter being completely unseasoned, and unaware of the rules made several errors on that first run down, first, she dragged her feet over the track, and she ran back up the hill right on the track, and we all know doing so will not help to get the run in the optimal icy condition that is preferable.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, let me show you how to do this I declared. I explained the importance of not messing up the track, and running up the hill to the side of the track so we can get it nice and icy. Little did I know, these new fangled snow things don't really make a good track like trash bags, I found they just sort of float over the snow, hovering just slightly above it. Here, watch me, I hopped on that thing belly first, and before I knew it I was sailing down the hill at about 20 miles per hour, which for a mom is really fast.

I dragged my hands, I dragged my feet, all right through the track, but I didn't care, I couldn't stop. That slicked up donut was flying. In a flash I imagined myself crashing head on into my brother's car which was parked right there on the sidewalk in front of me. No, I wasn't wearing a frickin' helmet! I managed to turn the thing, and I began a spin that make a whirling dervish nauseous. Finally, I stopped with a loud thud as I crashed side long into my brother's Jetta. The impact made the car shake.

Then I laid there laughing so hard tears streamed my cheeks, my brother was bent over with his hands on his knees laughing so hard that the only sound produced was a hissing sound from him trying to catch his breath. Uh, yeah, I felt like a fool. There I was insisting my daughter follow some ancient rules, and I broke every one of them the second I jumped on that thing.

We laughed our butts off though, and decided to head to a nearby school which my brother assured me had great hills covered with grass, which would hopefully be snow packed. He was right. They went down first, this time I cautiously jumped on the thing, and made a little bit slower descent, however, I did manage to sail halfway across the baseball field, but it was fun so it didn't matter.

Shortly after we got there the wind kicked up about 20 notches, and the wind chill was too horrific to endure. I saw some kid's blow up thing fly away, and they all went after it. One kid was out there on a boogie board, holding onto it for dear life. I saw them walk towards the nearby houses, the wind was so horrible I thought about offering them a ride, but I wasn't sure they wouldn't get offended or something.

After about 3 runs, daughter said, I'm going to the car, it's too cold mom. So, we high tailed it out of there. The wind really was blowing some seriously icy cold air on us. Ahh well, better luck next time. Hopefully we'll have a good snow again, they've been few and far between this year. It sure would be nice to get out there again, now that we have a good spot to go to.

Too Popped To Poop

Oops, Reverse That, Switch It.

Mom always used to say that, "I'm just too pooped to pop!" She would say. I never knew exactly what she meant, I just thought it meant she was tired, which is probably what it was supposed to mean. I can see why she would be pooped, she was a mother of 3, a full-time nurse, and wife, and a prolific shopper, that's a lot of stuff.

These days she's pretty pooped, her health has not been so good, and I see her wearing down a bit. It is difficult to watch. Mom could always run circles around everyone, she was always so capable. These days the 3 of us kids pitch in more time to help get errands run, and pies bought. You know about my mom's pie thing right? She buys pies by the truckload, and always, always has a pie either fresh out of the oven or about to go in. Nobody even eats the pies anymore, except my dad, who darn well knows better than to refuse the gift of pie.

Dad still works the night shift after all of these years, he is hoping to retire in a couple of years, we look forward to that. It will be nice to see dad during the day again. Not only that, he's tired of the grind, and I don't blame him one bit for that. He drives the old Thunderbird to work, he's a slow driver, and gets the bird a lot, but he doesn't notice, or care, he's probably doing thought experiments anyway, the car pilots itself.

One morning dad left the car on auto pilot and ended up in someone's front yard. I guess after 30+ years of night shift, falling asleep one time is actually a pretty good record. Luckily, no one was hurt, except for dad's ego, and some innocent Aspen tree, which my parents immediately replaced. Dad went home, got mom and they went and planted a new tree that very moment. The owner's of the home said the new tree wasn't as good as the old tree. I don't know how they came to possess that knowledge, mom said the trees were very similar in size. You do what you can, after that, well...

Of course this isn't a new revelation, but it is difficult to see the parents slow down. Mom pretty much limits her trips to Walgreens, the grocery store, and the bank. She's always going to the bank, one would ask, what on earth is so important to go to the bank twice a week. I never actually go to my bank. I may step into the institution twice a year, and that's after putting it off for two months. I hate going into the bank.

I'm beaming with pride that mom has actually started using a debit card, heck, she's even got the visa check card which she sometimes forgets to use. I think the bank just sent it to her, they must have been reviewing their records and discovered my parents were the only members who did not have the card, so they sent it complimentary to any customer who has written more than 10,000 checks out of their account without ever bouncing one. We'll be out running errands and she'll say, "I need to stop at the bank." I can't help but ask "why?" Of course, she'll reply something like, "I need money to pick up my prescription."

"Mom," I ask, "can't you use your debit card for that?" Oh, she guesses so, but she needs cash for the post office, or something else. I give in, we go to the bank. At least there are no lines, everyone else is using their cards. My gosh, I use my card at the freakin' car wash. I never have cash on me, but I know I can get cash whenever I want, providing there is some in the bank of course.

Dad on the other hand does not know how to use his card. I'm not kidding. The man cannot figure it out. This is an educated man, a brilliant man, but he's befuddled on how to actually check out at the grocery store. That's why mom has to go to the bank all the time, she's got to get cash for dad. God I love them.

He has figured out how to surf the net though, and seems to do so quite often. I tried to show mom how to use email a few years ago before we went overseas. We went into dad's office, she sat down at the computer, I showed her how to log onto the internet, get on aol, check the email. I knew at that moment I would not be getting any emails from mom--ever. She humored me, I felt bad for trying, she seemed to feel embarrassed about it. I assured her it didn't matter at all, and that I could just email dad and he could print it up for her, or we could do things the old fashioned way, I would just call her.

Mom has never read my blog. The only posts she has ever read are those which I had printed up for her to read. It's probably better that way, she would get pissed about the pie thing, although I tease her about it. She knows I have blogged about her mean ass cat, and how the thing eats deli turkey and ham, not the brown sugar baked ham though, Precious only likes the honey ham. Can you believe that?

Dad has read my blog, and although he would never admit it, I'm sure he wonders where they went wrong. Don't worry dad, it's not your fault, well, that's not actually true, it could be genetic, you do have that one crazy sister afterall. They think these things do run in families. I remember my mom telling me years ago that "you never want to live in a town that has a looney bin." This from her experience as a young nurse working at the nut house. She went on to say, "most of the people in the town are relatives who moved closer to be around their family member in the mental hospital." And, "they end up staying, and most of them are just as crazy as the patients."

To this day she hates going into the town of Rawlings in Wyoming. The town does host a mental hospital, is that the p.c. way to say it? I don't even know. But I have to admit the town does have a certain "the hills have eyes" feel about it. I've noticed it myself.

This post continues to wander aimlessly much like my thoughts, so I suppose I will move on, and get going with the day. I've got to run to Walgreens and get mom's pills. She has already given me the cash to go pick 'em up for her.

A Confession

I Hate Poetry.

Well, that's not exactly true, I don't hate to READ poetry, I just hate hearing most other people read it OUT LOUD with the exception of my high school literature teacher who read quite nicely. It also helped that she was reading from a selection of great authors.

What is particularly annoying is angry poetry that is being screamed, or "rapped". People really abuse the pause, and that irks the crap out of me. They stop reading to allow the deep thoughts to sink in, never mind the fact that nothing being said is all that deep at all. Like whoa, let me pretend I'm moved here.

So, I wrote a poem about it:

What's that you say?

I'm angry and I'm sad
I've got nothing important to say
But I'm going to talk about it anyway
Life is hard and things are bad

I don't have everything I wish I had
The money I make all goes to taxes
So Congress can continue to feed their own fat asses
If that's not enough to make you mad

You can always look to childhood and blame dear old dad
He worked too hard and wasn't there
When he got home he fell asleep in his chair
Mom was no better she was always sad

At least you had a dad
I suffered a long line of losers
It wasn't my fault
Mom married a cad

Do these words depress you
That is my point indeed
Some poetry is just not easy to read

--end

Interesting Thoughts

Following Dad's Advice.

Of course he would hate to take credit for things as they are, it's too risky, to do so might mean blame for misfortune and failures. Not that we would do that. Dad is the smartest guy we know, and he would never lead us wrong. Yes, we still turn to mom and dad on those big decisions in our life, what a shame it would be to waste the opportunity to take advantage of their hard earned wisdom. Only a fool would do otherwise.

Almost 3 years ago hubby and I found ourselves unemployed. Thirty and unemployed just sucks, but the way things are, I think it might have been worse if we were older and even less "perky". Perkiness is after all a highly sought after trait in applicants, employers like perky, they don't think old people are all that perky, or so I've heard.

Not only that, hubby had spent the previous 13 years investing in a career, which ended rather unexpectedly. He had never been anything other than a Marine, and didn't really know what else to do. Blah blah blah, I've said all this before, unfortunately I deleted the whole sordid mess in one of my episodes.

The first year was the toughest. After we found decent employment we started picking up the rest of the pieces. The thing we want is rather typical, we want a home, cable t.v. and to raise our kiddo in a nice little neighborhood, oh and matching Corsicas in the driveway wouldn't hurt either. We also realize that one day we are going to be old, and it might be a wise thing to buy a home sometime in the near future so we aren't faced with a mortgage payment at retirement age Lord willing we get there.

Hubbers went to work at a desk job here, good, no, excellent medical benefits, pretty okay job, 401k, a retirement plan, and so on, but the pay stunk. It just wasn't great. This particular spot, like most places it seems offered very little room for advancement, unless one was the bearer of a bachelor's degree in anything, which in my opinion is a bunch of malarkey, but that's for another post. We needed more than $1300/month take home to live, and advance beyond treading water.

Luckily, I found a job with a former employer, and I'm quite happy where I am, and with what I'm at. My job offers some form of benefits for full-time employees, which I'm not, but even at that my pay is pretty decent. And most of all, I'm happy there.

Oh my gosh, I'm getting to the point, don't stop now.

My husband hates when I take this long to tell a story, but the history always seems so important to me. I'm really into, how did we get there. I don't know if that makes good reading or not. I'm sorry if it doesn't.

Where was I? So, we were doing pretty well, back on our feet, treading water, making ends meet, but not advancing much at all, and a home still was not in the foreseeable future.

That's where dad came in. He spoke to husband about an opportunity he had heard about, and had been reading about. Dad just told him about it. Hubby thought and thought about it, then brought it up to me, I thought and thought about it, and encouraged him to try it if he wanted to. He did research, contacted people, and finally decided to do it. This is where his Marine Corps training came in, his guts, and courage, and believe me, what he has done takes total balls.

When the time came he gave his employer notice, packed up his belongings, and headed to out of town, where he attended a training course in his new field of choice. He started his new job almost 2 weeks ago. It's been a huge adjustment, the first few days were horrible, the work is hard. He kept going, kept trying. The last few days were much better.

Now, he has a job with great benefits AND pay. In fact, he has tripled his income, and he knows he can advance. The only thing he had to do was be in shape physically, and have the courage to try, and most of all be willing to get dirty. Really dirty. He works in the cold, the wind, the sun, rain, or snow, but he is compensated for his work, and his time.

Here we go. I was reading a post at good ole Kim du Toit's site, and found it quite interesting, along with the comments that the post stirred up. I really wanted to comment, but didn't really know what I wanted to say. I guess it is just this, a man must do what a man must do. Dad always says, find a trade someone is willing to pay for.

In this corporate age, where CEOs bring home 6-7 digits while the lowers scrimp and scrape to get by, I don't blame anyone for moving on to greener pastures. When a company brings in 100 million in profit after all of the bills are paid, but can't see fit to even give their employees more than a Chili's gift card for Christmas, I don't blame anyone for seeking better opportunities, and truthfully, what companies really offer retirement plans anymore? 401k is not a retirement plan, and all they contribute is just what they are not paying you anyway.

I'm not under the impression that companies really want folks to stick around all that long. It seems to me they would much rather infuse their work force with perky 20 year olds every few years, who ironically start at the bottom of the pay scale.

Reinventing yourself is a very American thing. And I thank goodness for it. I'm so glad I live in a country where folks can decide, this isn't working for me, and go out and find something new. It is one of the best things about our country. That a 35 year old can begin a completely new career in this country is a testament to the greatness and the freedom of this land.

What do I know? Not much really, just that if we don't look out for our own family, no one else will. I don't delude myself into thinking employers really care about anything more than the bottom line, I don't blame them for that either. I realize it is just business.

In our case, we realize that we must make as much money now in our youth, in our prime as we can. We seek out companies that offer a future, but how many really do?

Singing To My Monkey

And Pitsy Dootsy.

Driving in the car, I was suddenly struck with a memory from childhood, "I used to have one of those monkeys with the yellow chest, black arms and legs, and plastic face, hands and feet, and I even had a special song I used to sing to my monkey." I told my brother, who thought the last bit was funny. "Do you want to hear the song I used to sing to it?"

Of course, he did. So I began, "Like a rhinestone monkey..." and I laughed at what a dorky kid I was. Yes, I did sing Rhinestone Cowboy to my monkey. But what came next is what really made me laugh, my brother confessed that he had an imaginary friend named, Pitsy Dootsy. He said, "I've never told anyone about it before."

And so as promised, it's on the blog. Pitsy Dootsy? He refused to tell me what Pitsy looked like, but I envision a hat with a propellor on it, striped shirt and mork from ork pants, perhaps a feather boa somewhere in there to mix things up a bit.

When I Can

I'll Spiffy Things Up A Bit.

I'm a techno tard so, anything I do on this page will require the assistance of someone who knows what the heck html stands for, and how the heck do I put up a blog roll, and other such things. I don't, it's not what I do. What I do is pamper people and make them feel good, and cared for.

But for now, these are a few of the people I check out whenever I get on the computer
in no particular order:

The Fat Lady

The Origin of Soul

The Crazy Rants of Samantha Burns

Tinkerty Tonk

Gut Rumbles

The Other Side of Kim

Eternity Road

The Passing Parade

Trevor Romain

Baby Troll Blog

Hubby

He's Out Of Town.

I really miss him. He's been gone for over a week now. None much has happened in that amount of time, there was a parent teacher conference, work was busy, oh and our 12th wedding anniversary.

I worked that day, I knew hubby would be out of town, so I didn't request that day off. I sent him a text message that morning wishing him a happy 12, and offering to spend at least 12 more with him. He did not reply, he's not a text messager.

At work, I arrived to a fairly busy day, and was disappointed that my lunch had been cut short. It's a silly thing, I know. I get emotional at times for the darndest reasons.

I rushed to the employee cafeteria at lunch time. Hubby was on my mind. As it happened I took my phone with me, something I rarely do, but I thought I might send him another message. While I stood there waiting for the food on the grill, I felt that familiar buzz in my pocket, I pulled the phone out, and there was his face staring right at me. His picture shows up when he calls, I programmed it that way on the phone, it is so Star Trek, and makes me feel all modern and stuff.

He called me, he never calls me when I'm at work, in fact, he rarely calls anyway, he's not a caller type. Awww, I answer, "hi honey." We exchange the where are you, what are you doing, etc. stuff, and he says, "I love you, Happy Anniversary."

Our phones disconnect us and break up about 10 times, we both happened to have very bad reception where we were at the moment. Finally, we get a quick, "I'll call you later, love you, bye!" in there and I go sit down with my lunch. Tear. Sniffle. Tear. I hold them back, I don't know why I felt like crying. I'm not a crying type. I look at the t.v. and think, "oh frick, someone put it on ESPN!" I eat, and debate with myself getting up and changing the channel, I decide not to, I just don't care enough to do it.

I miss him. Sure, we've had time apart over the years, he was in Thailand for 3 months while we were stationed overseas. It was a long 3 months, he rarely called. He was working. I knew that. It is the same now, he is in a different state working. He doesn't call much, I send him text messages all the time, I know he reads them, and they make him feel good, he told me they did.

This time is different though, I'm worrying. He's started a new job, it's a good job, but a very difficult one. And I'm worrying everyday about him, is he happy with things? Is he warm where he is? I have a lot on my mind right now, our lives have taken a dramatic turn, we think for the better, we think we've made good choices, smart choices, yet we have not been shown the results of our risk taking yet.

This is a big thing. One of the biggest things we've done in the past few years. Everything is changing really fast. I think he'll be home tomorrow night, I can't wait to sit and talk with him, and find out what's been happening in his world this past week. I just hope he's all right with everything.

Too Personal

T.M.I.

It's a very bad habit of mine, I rank it right up there with belching in public, not that I do that, but that anyone might. Of course, in the confines of one's own home, certain sounds are going to be heard, we've got to do it somewhere. The problem is, and part of the reason I deleted the rest of the blog, which I sort of regret doing now, but it is just one more example of why I might need medication, I just felt like I told too much of my personal information. That in turn fed the other beast, paranoia, and made me think that somehow people who hate me might find my blog and get me fired from my job or something. I tell you, I've got some issues okay? First of all, I don't make a habit of going around and making people hate me, so that's really sort of irrational anyway, but still, I worry about things like that. Not as much as I worry about where I misplaced my Walgreens coupons and things like that, but occasionally I do indulge that wackier side of myself.

Too often I feel the need to indulge that silly side of me right here on this webpage, pretty much as I'm doing right now. I'm really trying to keep that side of me under control, but that is so boring. It leaves me with nothing much to write about at all, and honestly, I do enjoy putting things down here.

I guess if my life were just right, I might not have anything to write about at all, because deep down, I believe I might really be a boring person. Really, I don't even have any interesting hobbies, skills or talents. I'm a retarded lefty, so I never learned to knit, and just think of all the interesting knitting stories I'm not able to tell. I can't sing a lick, and my jokes are socially unacceptable, as is my sense of humor about nasty things. Cursing like a trucker is not necessarily one of the talents I'd like to showcase on the net, although I do think there is a certain niche market for that type of thing.

Ho hum, there it is. Got any wooden nickels?

My Boss Cares What I Think

Really.

The boss went to a great deal of effort to convince us that what we think really does matter to them. The boss made it perfectly clear that those who do not think the correct thoughts--happy thoughts--are "negative", and "nobody wants to be around negative people, even other negative people."

I wondered, how does anything ever improve if everyone is afraid to point out the faults--the negative. Well apparently, there is a correct way to point out messed up shit, it must be framed in the appropriate language, said in just the right way, and one might escape the wrath and judgement of co-workers and the management teeeeeeeeeeam, and not be forever deemed negative. Go team!

Sometimes it makes me wish for the good old days when the boss didn't really give a toot what I thought. I mean really, I go in, do a good job, help others, smile, follow all the rules that I can, isn't that enough? Does my employer really need to attempt to control my inner most thoughts as well.

Honesty is not valued. Period. Being truthful is wrong, it's bad, and no one will like you. Saying what you really think is negative, unless it is wrapped up in rainbows and butterfly kisses.

I can't talk about it really, you might not like me if you knew I thought it was all a load of crap. Just shut up.

Ever Run Into Your First Love?

Gawd Is That Awkward Or What?

Well technically, I didn't run into my first love, that would be the boy I had the most devastating crush on in 6th grade, his name was, I'm not making this up, Tommy. He was the most adorable little brown eyed boy with the cutest curly brown locks. Not a single one of my childhood friends has forgotten that crush. I actually thought at some point he was going to fall madly in love with me, that we were going to be married and have babies together.

When he spoke to me, my stomach did a flip, and then a flop. My toes would tingle when he was around. I wrote his name over and over, did certain tests that only 12 year old girls know how to do, that would cement our destiny. Today that would be called stalking, but I guarantee you it was nothing more than a healthy admiration for a really cute boy. He barely knew I existed, so it's not like it really bothered him at all. He moved away in Jr. High, and I hardly noticed. There were many other boys for me to secretly like by then.

Anyway, the other day I ran into my first love, not Tommy, but my first real boyfriend. We dated for 2 years in high school, and I did love him, but it was high school, and that sort of thing was too deep and heavy for me at that age. We ended up breaking up, and he moved on rather quickly, which was very painful to me at the time--I don't know why--he ended up marrying the new girlfriend, and they have been together ever since. Good for them. He was a good guy, I have never wished him any ill will.

On the other hand, I dated a few frogs until I met my prince and married at the age of 23. We had a child pretty much right away, and have been together ever since, minus a few bumps in the road along the way. We're coming up on 12 years, and we're still very much in love.

Over the years I can count on one hand the number of times I've actually seen my first love, and it's always a very awkward encounter. Until the other day, my husband had never seen or met him. It was really no big deal. Ancient history as they say.

Strangely enough I've known my husband's first love since grade school. We all went to the same schools together. I always liked her, she was a nice girl I thought. The oddest thing was, we hadn't seen her in years either, and ran into her in the most unlikely of places--the other side of the world. Yep, she and her husband were stationed overseas in the same place we were. When people proclaim, "it's a small world!" I believe them.

I was okay with the thing. In my mind I thought, so what if they were each other's first loves, it's ancient history. I now understand my husband's discomfort with the thing. We did try to be adults and became friends with them again. I thought it was really nice and fun at first. However, I did not realize that she might have other motives. I could be wrong of course, but some of the things she said to my husband when they were alone suggest that was not the case. She was very interested in spending time with him--alone.

Eventually, her husband got orders and they moved. I decided not to confront her, and to just say good bye and leave things be. I knew it was highly unlikely we would all be in the same place again. By the way, I was wrong about that, we've all ended up here in our hometown. I see them all the time, but I don't speak to them. The last contact I had with her was an email where she asked me why I had not called her since I came home. As if the hussy didn't know. I gave her a reply that I would call when I got my life straight, which in her case, will actually be never. I don't plan on opening that door again. I was trusting and open before, she wanted my husband to take her out to lunch, and call her and talk to her. Umm, no, some things you just don't do.

But this isn't about her. This is about him. Running into him after all of these years with my family. And guess what? We didn't speak. Oh, we ran into him at the bowling alley. It was a really small one, so wherever we were I could see him. It was strange, and awkward. It was like we pretended we did not know each other at all. I don't know why we did that. I made eye contact with him and smiled, and he looked away. I don't know why. I had seen him only a few weeks ago at the grocery store and he was very talkative with me. I guess he didn't think he would see me again. Hey, I certainly didn't plan to see him either.

And that was it. I told my husband he was there, discreetly pointed him out, and my husband just sort of shrugged it off. I was a nervous wreck inside. I don't know why I felt that way. I think it was just awkward. Part of me thinks that there is a lot of unresolved junk there, and it only rises to the surface when we run into each other. We have never gone out of our way to see each other in all these years. A lot of stuff was left unsaid there. I just can't explain it.

Blah blah blah, I'm being such a chick about this. Anyway, I still wish nothing but good for him in his life. I don't really have bad feelings towards him, but I know we can't really be friends either. I tried that with hubby's first, it just doesn't work.

Unclassy and Common

As I Want To Be.

Lately I've been really addicted to various "reality t.v." shows. Some people think these shows are low class and that the people who watch them are some sort of sadistic voyeurs who "feel better about themselves when they see others humiliated." I say that is a heap of psycho-mumbo jumbo, and rather elitist and extreme on the surface, not to mention quite judgemental. It seems to me this view amounts to not much more than "I'm better than you uncivilized heathens." I can't begin to know the motivations that other people have for tuning into shows like American Idol, or Amazing Race, but I know that I have my own reasons for it.

Now I've never been one who sits on the edge of my seat watching a ball game, the olympics or any other sort of sporting competitions, yes, even curling. I watch with a sort of passive yawn most of the time. But watching people compete to win 1 million dollars, or a record deal does interest me.

These people have their own personalities, and that is part of the intrigue. If that is not evidence enough, name one member of any nation's curling team, now name the last American Idol. If someone happens to humiliate themselves, well that is life. I humiliate myself all the time, and have done so many times. There was that time I walked all the way through the building at work with a long piece of toilet paper hanging out of the back of my pants. I can't forget the time I answered the phone and thought I was speaking to my husband, and told him how much I loved him and missed him, even called him "baby" only to find that I was actually speaking to my father in law who thought I had temporarily lost my mind.

Sure none of those things were aired on television, but so far I've not heard one single case of people being forced to participate in these shows. I for one respect their right to embarrass themselves for the pure entertainment value of it. Now a person who is secretly video taped singing in their shower, and made a mockery of on the evening news, would indeed have my sympathy.

That settles it for me. Watch whatever you want to watch or don't, I don't care. Just mind your own business about what I watch. That would really make me feel better about myself.