Shut up Get out

2011-02-22T09:14:00.002-07:00

I'M BACK AND IN A BIG WAY.

I know you have missed me in a way that you can only miss baseball during the cold, long winter months. However, since spring training is back, so am I.

I had a dream this weekend. It was a good dream. I am not providing details, but the following story played a big part in the dream. It is a true story and happened when I was 14-15, in my kitchen in Keystone, Colorado. And here it is:

I was in the kitchen with my cousin, Tim, same age as me and his neighbor, Mark, one year older. I had the biggest crush on Mark and in fact, dated him off and on until I was well into my 20s. That of course, is another story. Anyway, I have been skiing since I was about 2 years old. My parents worked at A-basin, one of the oldest ski areas in that area, and our house was a couple miles away from Keystone (built in 1970), so I was pretty good on the boards.

Mark, male chauvinist that he was (is), made a comment about me not being as good as a guy skiing (he had never seen me ski as we had met sometime the summer of 1974). My cousin and I strongly disagreed with that statement and proceeded to let him know that. Now here is the part of the story that was in the dream.

I made the comment that I could pretty much do anything a guy could do with the exception of writing (peeing) my name in the snow. My real name is Kelli. There are a lot of loopy letters in that name and my cousin, Tim, proceeded to demonstrate how it would be possible to write my name in the snow. Picture a 14/15 year old boy, crouched down like a crab, moving sideways, trying to recreate "KELLI" in cursive writing, peeing in the snow (There was no actual demonstration IN the snow--the kitchen was funny enough). We were all crying because we were laughing so hard--weak, I tell you.

After Tim finished the demonstration, I looked at him and said "It's a real bitch to dot the "I"", which put us all on the floor.

In the dream--the person I was telling the story too, ended up laughing so hard he was crying, which of course, made me feel good. It's strange how things from the past have come up recently. Writing your name in the snow, phone calls from people you haven't talked to in for damn near ever, dead mice in the garage . . .

And if you feel that you are having a sucky day--just remember--it's a bitch to dot the "I".

2008-11-05T10:09:00.003-07:00

I HATE BEING SICK!! Especially with a stomach virus. Those of you who have a sensitive gag reflex should just stop reading now. Really, I mean it. Okay, don't read one more word. Srsly. You've been warned.

The thing about the stomach virus--you don't get any warning. You go to bed on Saturday night and Sunday you wake up reeling around like you don't know how to walk. You think you got too much sleep or not enough sleep, so you walk the dogs and get home and eat breakfast. Every time you move, the room starts spinning and then BAM. You realize that you are indeed about to puke. And even though you can't walk because the room is spinning, you realize that you better hurry your ass up to the bathroom. The good thing about the bathroom is that while you are sitting on the floor, you realize that it is cool in there. Which is good because you are sweating profusely. And then you realize that your day has just gone to hell. Because you will spend the next 7 hours running from the couch to the bathroom, all at a drunk angle because you've got the motion sickness from hell.

I could not lay down because the room would spin and when another round was starting up, the room spun more. I swear, I don't know how I kept from passing out. The only way I could sleep was to sit on the couch and prop a bunch of pillows to the side of me. I kind of leaned over and could sleep for 20 minutes or so. I could have handled the volcano puking--it was the motion sickness that was killing me. I still can't lay on my right side to sleep. It's getting better during the waking hours (today is the 4th day), but not so much when I sleep. I finally got some motion sickness meds, but if this doesn't go away by tomorrow, I'll need to get the prescription strength. My doc is already aware that I wanted to die this weekend and she assures me that this has been going around and that indeed the dizzy thing is one of the main complaints.

So while I'm feeling all sorry for myself because I feel like shit, I get an email from my pal Tony. He has been sick himself and the doctors cannot figure out what is wrong with him. They do have it narrowed down to mono or lyme disease. Tony told me that he was approaching it like it was "myme" disease. It sucks like mimes and no one can figure out what the hell they are doing so they can't treat it.

I swear, he killed me dead with that comment. I wish I was half as funny.

2008-09-24T12:36:00.002-06:00

Srsly? Clay Aiken gay? What dumbass did NOT know that 3-4 years ago?

For those who have emailed me--YES I AM WORKING ON SCANNING PICTURES. NO, you will not be sorry. One thing that I am horribly sad about--I do not have a picture of the blue unitard with leg warmers used at the Richard Simmons Anatomy Asylum in the early 80s. Complete with Richard Simmons Afro-y frizzy hair.

well, i'm not REALLY sorry about it because it was so awful that I'm glad I do not have pictorial evidence.

2008-09-18T12:59:00.002-06:00

Yes I know it's been awhile since I updated. However--I got a scanner a couple weeks ago and you know what THAT means?! Yes, I'll be mocking myself in all those stunning fashions of the 60s and 70s and all those FANTASTIC hair styles over the years. Along with me minus teeth, me plus braces and other mockable traits.

In the meantime--one of my friends made a comment that I am just SURE is a compliment. I was telling her about the whore and how said whore is about to take the hugest professional nose dive ever. yes I know hugest isn't a word but just stay with me. She looked at me and said I love how you just back door all this information and when it explodes, you just sit back with a smug look on your face and say--hmmm, don't say I didn't tell you months ago. That's me--Queen of Smugness and I wear it well.

Stay tuned, I'm going to be scanning this weekend and it takes awhile to upload to photobucket, but it will be quite fun. I'm just sure of it.

2008-08-11T14:54:00.002-06:00

The WHOO HOOO of it all. I'll admit it--I whoo hoo occasionally. Most of the time it has a sarcastic note to it and it's really never the WHOOOOOHOOOOO rebel yell type thing. It's like the tah dah I taught my niece when she was learning to walk--very quick and to the point and sometimes, most of the time in a conversational tone.

Well, I found myself in whooo hoo hell. minus the hoooo. I signed up for Jazzercise. Mock me if you will, but it has been hotter than hell in my house (where my work out equipment resides) and I thought that it was better than dealing with the Curves nazis on a daily or every other day basis. I do not much care for the exercise whoooo'ers. Denise Austin makes me want to stab a fork through my brain with all her g.d. whooo'ing. "That's right! Feel the burn! WHOOO!" and multiply that by an hour and you get every exercise routine Denise ever did.

Now the thing about Jazzercise--I have great rhythm (SP? and I know it's not spelled right, but I'm too damn lazy to get up and look it up, but wait--there is a spell check button on Blogger so I will fix it later) and I am a great dancer, but for the life of me--they do a bunch of complicated shit right in the middle of something and it's always off beat so while everyone is going right, I'm going left. I just blame it on being uncoordinated. Okay--so I go to the first class and right off, the instructor starts whoooo'ing randomly. Then she starts "Okay, Left side of the room WHOOO. Right side of the room!!! Jackie!(jackie whoo's) BALLLZ--dead silence. Then she does it again--BALLZ BY HERSELF! whoo And if I could figure out how to make that any smaller, I would. The whole effing class--whooing. for an hour. For the love of GOD people, save your whoo's for something special--Jazzercise is not it. So the entire class consisted of me turning the wrong way and refusing to whoo. All while sweating profusely.

I will say this--the people there were much nicer than the Curves nazis. And the second night? The instructor was NOT a whoo'er. WHOOOO!

2008-08-04T10:42:00.003-06:00

WELL, THERE YOU GO.

I was at my friend's house yesterday, getting my hairs done (she does my hair in her kitchen so I don't have to drive to her salon) and the conversation gravitated as it always does to our social (read--dating) lives. She is about 6 years younger than I am and yet--we have the same issues. She told me yesterday that she was tired of dating guys with combovers and guys who were 'old'. I told her--Hey! I'm old! She said oh no you are not. You at least get off the couch and play softball or take your dogs for a walk. I'm talking about guys our age that act like they are two steps away from dying. So she told me about her latest blind date. They met at a bar for a drink and he proceeded to have 5. That would have been a big red flag to me. Especially on a meet and greet. I do have to give her props though--she told him at the "goodbye" that she didn't think they had much in common, but thanks for the drink and good luck.

I wish guys would do that--I'm kind of particular--weeding out any guy that has a "wife beater" on in their profile picture or lives um IN WYOMING. More about that later. But dude, seriously? Don't say--hey, I'll give you a call and we'll go out on Saturday. Because it's just in bad form and it shows my balls are bigger than yours, because if I'm not interested, I'm going to just come out and tell you.

The Wyoming guy sends me an email and says "I just got back from Orlando and I just hated it. There were too many people and it was too hot and I'm so glad to be back home. I've decided that a bad day in Wyoming beats a great day in Orlando". This was his first email to me. I responded 'Dear Wyoming guy--Thanks for the weather report! I'm headed to Disney World!" I did not hear from him again. Oh and there was the 400 pounder whose picture showed him shoving a sammich in his face. This is on the fitness site. All I can do is wonder HOW he got there.

So I think I'll stick with Hottie McHotterson or the Triathlete for awhile. Because living in Hottieville is better than ANY day in Wyoming--good or bad.

2008-07-14T08:22:00.002-06:00

WE ALL KNOW GOD DOESN'T LIKE EITHER DUMBASSERY OR ASSHOLERY, but now I strongly suspect he doesn't like whiners or poor sports either. Even when it's His own. Case in point--I play softball on Sunday. The league I am in is mostly church teams. We were neck and neck with one of said church teams all season. I thought they had pretty much locked up 1st place because we had lost 3 games and they had only lost 2 (both to us).

I get to the field last night for the last game of the season and was told that they were losing and if they lost and we won, we would win the league because we had beat them twice and they had only beat us once. Plus--we had more points scored than they did (our second tie breaker). Then, the league director told us that the team we were supposed to be playing didn't have enough players and that they would forfeit unless we let them pick up players not on their roster. This is normally frowned upon for a game that decides the championship, but we said oh hell yes we'll let them play. So the church team lost and immediately filed a protest over some stupid shit (players didn't have a team jersey--which is not required in this league). This team bitched all season long. They bitched about the umpires not calling strikes, they bitched about plays, they bitched about us having an all guy outfield and the umpire said "What about the all-girl INFIELD that they have? You gonna complain about that too?" They really just never shut up.

So we take the field, we're the visiting team and we score 2 runs. Then the other team bats and scores 3 runs and it wasn't even that close. our defense SUCKED the first inning. As we finally got the last out, one of our players said-we just need to settle. We're way over stimulated. The second inning wasn't any better. But finally in the 4th, our bats got started (not mine--Mine was hot from the get go--3 for 4 and the one I didn't get was to left instead of right. If I would have stuck with what I know works, I'd have batted 1000.) Our defense got going too--I made the spectacular boob catch. A throw came in from the outfield and it was low and I scooped it and jammed it into my chest to get control and got the out.

I made the comment that I didn't know WHY we had to wait until the 5th inning to get a good lead and couldn't we just do it sooner? The reply was NO--then it wouldn't be us. It was the last inning and the other team had the bases loaded and time was expired. One of their big guys was up and put a hit to the shortstop. She fielded it on a one hop and I was at second waiting. She threw to me and it was the last out.

The director told me that it was an exciting finish to the season and that we had earned first place. We could have taken the chicken shit way out by accepting the forfeit, but we played, knowing the risk--if we lost, we would have lost the championship. And she's right--we earned it. It was an exciting game and the final score was 9-5--us. And just to pee on our parade, the church team filed a protest that we did not all have team shirts and we let the other team pick up players. It is now proven that GOD doesn't like Whiners, so maybe instead of praying on the field after the game, the church team should be like us and have a moment in the dugout before the game.

Please God, don't let us suck. Amen.

2008-07-03T11:25:00.002-06:00

LET'S TALK ABOUT SOME OF THE THINGS THAT HAVE MADE ME LAUGH THIS SUMMER:
Reality teevee is always at the top of the list. We had ROL 2, FOL3, Shot of Love2 and my current favorite--WIPEOUT!! OMG--have you SEEN this show? It is freaking hysterical! I can't believe they have convinced people that this was a good idea. You just KNOW that they had to sign a shit load of waivers. Oh, I guess I better explain the premise of the show. It's this ginormous obstacle course with obstacles that are basically designed to throw you on your ass or your face. They have this obstacle that I refer to as the "Whack a Dumbass". It's like a giant whack-a-mole board that is vertical that the contestant and I use the term loosely must walk a narrow ledge in front of. Usually they get cold cocked right upside the head and whoops--right into a mud pit. I can think of 2 people at least that I would like to send to the Whack a Dumbass board.

Shot of Love 2--I hated SOL1, but got sucked into a second season mainly because Bo was hot. Too bad Tila didn't choose him-oh no--she chose Kristy, who said NO, I'm NOT interested in a shot at love with you. That wasn't the funny part. The funny part was the fake ass crying Tila was doing after it. Um, it looks better if you actually HAVE some tears in your eyes. srsly.

Let's talk about Hottie McHotterson. Okay-let's not, but he's hot. And I like him.

That's about all I've got today, but I wanted to get this posted before I saw Bubba and he asked me why I haven't updated the blog lately. The answer to that is simple. Because I'm a lazy ass blogger and have to be inspired. Believe me, I think I will have a LOT of inspiration when I get back from San Antonio next week. Peace and have a happy 4th.

The Flume

2008-06-10T07:14:00.001-06:00

2008-06-10T06:39:00.002-06:00

I've had about enough dumbassery to last me a lifetime. Sure--I enjoy it when the dumbasses get their eventual come uppance, but it is wearing to wait for it.

So instead today, I will share 2 things. The first, a story about my Dad. This is a man who did not go to school past the 8th grade, which by the way, he says is his biggest regret in life. I told him I more than made up for it with all the schooling I had. And for a man who did not have more than an 8th grade education, he is probably the smartest person I know. At our family reunion, he took a bad fall. He is 92 and getting unsteady. He was too close to the edge of a stair and wasn't paying attention and he fell off. The first concern was that he broke his other hip. The second concern was a concussion because he hit his head pretty hard on the concrete. The immediate concern was the huge flap of skin hanging off his elbow bleeding. My sister is a nurse and I am a first responder. I happened to have a first aid kit with me, so I ran to get it while my sister checked our dad out. (go ahead, call me a dork) As I was walking back up to the scene, I heard my sister ask him, "Now this is going to sound stupid, but do you know who I am?" My dad looked at her and said, "Well, if you don't know, I can't help you." At that point, I knew he was okay.

Now, the second story. The place that our family reunion at had a World Famous Natural Water slide. It wasn't spectacular, but I decided I was going to go down it. I got my suit on and marched down to the slide with my sister and grabbed a mat (you had to sit on something or the rock would snag the crap out of your suit) My sister was just short of horrified and said "You're not going to do that, are you?" I said oh yes I am and so are you. Quit being such a chicken. So off I went. It was nice and mild until you hit the first curve and then you gained speed and it slammed you into the other wall and spit you out into the Guadalupe River. Somehow I managed to get most of my first cousins (all middle aged) to go down the Flume. For your viewing enjoyment:

2008-06-05T08:24:00.003-06:00

SWEAR TO GOD, NEVER HAS THERE BEEN A MORE PERFECT TRAINWRECK. I just can't look away, no matter how disgusted I am. Maybe disgust isn't the right word. Watching the two morons involved--just when I think they couldn't be any more stupid--they get married. Now, dumbass #1 has taken a professional tumble in the past couple of years--I thought people actually liked DA#1, but evidently not so much. My own eyes have been opened and now I am finding out others have as well.

Dumbass #2--I never liked them, mainly because of their reputation. But when 1 and 2 hooked up, people raised their eyebrows. When they find out the latest, I'm pretty sure that the professional hara kiri will be complete. And the awful thing--I can't hardly WAIT!! Because the destruction will be so complete, it will look like an atom bomb hit. And the beauty is, those of us who have followed it, didn't have to do anything to help it along. We just watched. I just wish it would happen faster--the anticipation is killing me.

Look what I can do!

2008-04-18T12:46:00.001-06:00

2008-04-15T08:09:00.003-06:00

LET'S MOCK ABOUT INTELLECTUALS. I mean, let's TALK about intellectuals. Okay--I enjoy a good mocking, same as anyone else. I mock until I'm bored and then I move on to mock something else.

So there is a site called Meetup that you can put your interests into a search and then the site will list "meetups" in your area for those interests. One of my interests is reading and there is a group not to far away from me. Unfortunately, their meeting was in the middle of the day on Saturday, which conflicts with my nap taking. I would rather take a nap than eat. But I am still interested in the group. They chose several books which wouldn't be too bad to read. But the emails that followed got me going. I can just tell that some of these people are going to be the type that look for MEANING in EVERY WORD. Shit people, sometimes words are words and designed simply to tell a story. When I read, I want to read a story. With a plot. I don't want to look for meaning in every word. The last time I had to deal with symbolism was in 11th grade when we had to read William Faulkner. It was hard enough to get through the story without having to figure out what the hell he was talking about that wasn't on the page.

I'm not stupid, but I don't consider myself an "intellectual". Those people annoy me. Can't they just read something and say "Hey--that was a good book" or "Hey, that book sucked" without having to dissect the hell out of something looking for the alternate meaning. This is probably why I have never joined a book club. I've noticed that some authors are actually putting club guides and discussion in the back of their books. The ones that I've seen are pretty decent, but they tend to ask questions that I wouldn't normally give a crap about once I've read the book. I guess I'm not really cut out for book club discussions and I'll stick with the group that meets at the bar before the baseball game and then goes to the game. Usually there is no discussion regarding "well, do you think that the symbolism of the bunt was that . . . ." oh hell no--we all know that the purpose of a bunt is either to advance the runner or to put a runner on base because they aren't expecting it.

Best line ever on tv and I often feel this way "I can have surgery to get bigger boobs, but SHE can't have surgery to make her smarter".

2008-03-17T13:19:00.002-06:00

You know that talking stain commercial? The one where the guy is interviewing, but he has a stain on his shirt that keeps talking at the same time as him? First, I think that is one of the funniest commercials in awhile. Second, I know someone who reminds me of the talking stain and now whenever he starts to talk, whether it be in person or in an email, all I hear is the talking stain. He's that annoying because he thinks he's smarter than everyone. Those of you who read me regularly (yeah, I know, it's not so regular since I haven't updated in a while) will actually know the person I am talking about.

The answer is NO.

2008-02-22T09:40:00.002-07:00

EXCUSE ME--I DON'T BELIEVE I HEARD THAT QUITE RIGHT.

I was in Target last night ( or Tah git, as my "cousin" Sali says) getting ready to pay for my new itouch wallet, that goes with my new itouch, which is not working as of yet dammit. The woman in front of me was a Tah git employee gabbing it up with the cashier. Shut up and move along. She yells across the store to the customer service desk--HEY MARCUS--THEY HAVE FISHNETS ON SALE FOR FOUR BUCKS!

That got my attention. I looked over at the cs desk and Marcus yells back I KNOW--I ALREADY BOUGHT 5 PAIRS!! Wtf? says me. MARCUS is indeed a man. A man with long hair, styled and makeup. But the voice is definitely male. My first thought was the broad in front of me had no business wearing fishnets. Unless you have toothpicks for legs, fishnets leave imprints that take about a week to go away. I am not speaking from experience--I have seen this with my own eyes. It's worse than the waffle marks lawn chairs leave on your ass. My second thought was oh hell NO Marcus!!

2008-01-21T13:39:00.000-07:00

REMEMBER JIM CARREY AS 'OLGA' THE RUSSIAN WOMAN?

On In Living Color? He wore a bikini and had what little hair he had in 2 pigtails? Okay--keep that image close at hand, disturbing as it is.

I found the greatest bikini. I've been into the whole skull and crossbones trend for reasons best not mentioned here. Okay, I'll mention them--because a certain dumbass finds it disturbing and thinks that there is something more behind it other than me channeling my inner badass. So, I find this bikini in Victoria's Secret and order it.

It showed up courtesy UPS last Friday and I rush upstairs to try it on. Now--I weigh about 135 on a heavy day and I work out a lot, so even though I am almost 48--I can still look pretty good in a two piece. Much better than the 350 pound woman I saw in Florida a couple of years ago. I digress.

I put it on and the first thing that came to my mind was--OMG!!! I LOOK LIKE FUCKING JIM CARREY AS OLGA!!! It wasn't that I was "mannish", it was that the top is not cut for someone who doesn't have HUGE BOOBS!! I was scaring the dogs I was shrieking so much.

So off it came. And when I was at the hockey game with The Boy--I was telling him the story and he said--I seriously doubt that you looked like Jim Carrey. OH BUT I DID. And my beloved skull bikini will be making its way back to Vickie's. Le sigh. And this was immediately after watching "How to Love Yourself Naked". or whatever it's called. I can do that--but not with a bikini on that makes me look like Jim Carrey!!

2007-12-20T11:01:00.000-07:00

FUCKING IRONIC, isn't it.

Read the previous post about the Great Cookie Debacle of 2007. Today was gift day at work. Someone handed me homemade cookies and a card. That right there--is irony at its best.

Peace out, Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa, Merry Boxing Day and Happy Eid. I'll be back after the first of the year. If not before.

2007-12-18T08:11:00.000-07:00

THE GREAT COOKIE DEBACLE OF 2007 Well, technically, it wasn't a debacle by definition. It was more of a What the Fuck did you do moment. I took Friday off because I had a date Saturday and I came to the panicked realization that I was leaving town in 8 short days and still had a crap load of things to do. So Friday morning, I went to the Wal to pick up some last minute things need for baking. Get home, eat breakfast and start mixing cookie dough. I was making sugar cookies. Sugar cookies are a giant pain in the ass. I only make them a couple times a year. The mixing part of sugar cookies--not a pain in the ass thanks to my badass KitchenAid mixer.

The rolling, baking and frosting part=pain in the ass.

So, I wanted to make some extra and I THOUGHT the recipe made 3 dozen. So I doubled it. 4 hours later, while I was STILL rolling out and cutting cookies, I started thinking--there is something wrong here. So I looked at the recipe again and it makes SIX DOZEN COOKIES. TWELVE FUCKING DOZEN COOKIES AND 7 HOURS LATER, I am finally done.

But they truly are the best cookies you will ever eat in your life.

2007-11-26T06:29:00.001-07:00

NO, THERE'S NO LIQUID IN THAT BOX, and other adventures in lying.

This past weekend was my annual Christmas Card swap. I have done it for 5 years now. The woman who used to do it found herself in the middle of Katrina, so a friend and I took over for her that year, because we hated to see the tradition die. Then the next year, something else happened, so we asked if we could do it again and this woman graciously turned her baby over to me.

So each year, it seems like there is a "theme". It may be unofficial, but it shows up. Most of the theme consists of sending me likker and chocolate along with the handmade cards. Yes, I had some people who did not follow that rule this year, but most sent along something for me. This year, I got enough travelers to last me through all but a week long blizzard. Y'all remember me not having any alcohol, a recently surgicalized shoulder and a snow storm that took me 3 days to shovel out of. The important part of that sentence is no alcohol and being stuck in a house with only percocet to put me out of my misery.

So this year's theme was "Prison". It's a very long story, but in order to provide continuity, my peeps have found a prison message board that provides hours of entertainment. The cards this year were the best since I've been doing the swap. And so was the alcohol, I might add.

One friend, the Procrastinator, got her package to the PO on Wednesday. They were due to me on Friday. The post office person asked her if there was any liquid in the package. The Procrastinator says--nooooooo, it's those glass bulbs with the liquidy stuff in it. Then she leaves me a voice mail that says--I CAIN'T EVEN LIEEEE RIGHT!!!

So the package gets there and it is a heavy one. As soon as I picked it up--even "I" could tell there was liquid in it. The sumbitch SLOSHED!!! So curiosity got the best of me and I opened it. It was a 1.75 L of PRE-MIXED White Russians. THE BIG BOTTLE!! Which immediately went in my fridge to chill so I could have one with dinner. She said she sent the PRE-MIXED to keep in the spirit of her slack assed Christmas cards. And her cards made me laugh--even though I gave her the best idea ever. Which she forgot.

So the cards are all sorted and ready to mail. but I have to BEG someone to send me one of their cards. I figure that since I host, that they shouldn't be making extras for me. But there were a couple that are fridge worthy.

2007-11-21T06:49:00.000-07:00

I WOULD JUST LIKE TO POINT OUT THE OBVIOUS.

That white shit coming out of the sky? IT'S SNOW, PEOPLE!! We live in Colorado and it is an annual occurence. Why you gotta act like it's the first damn time you've seen it? Last year? Remember the 41 inches we got just before Christmas and it didn't stop until about April? Yep--part of living here. Doesn't make it suck any less.

Let us now discuss your driving skills or lack thereof. DAMMMMNNNNN!! It's like 45 MPH snow, not 15 MPH snow. You, lady in the Honda, are the reason that people end up on the side of the road in a hefty bag. And while we are discussing dumbasses on the road, let me get my 2 cents in about CDOT. I understand that it costs a lot to run a snow plow or those things that spray that nasty brown shit that keeps the roads from getting slickery, but helloooooo? Every tv station called for snow and after last winter's little surprise--41 inches not 6--I would think that y'all would be just a TAD more prepared and have some of those guys on the road instead of NONE OF THEM.

I had forgotten just how exhilarating it is to step out on to my very steep driveway when it is icy. HOLY CRAP! That'll wake you up quick.

I'm thankful that I have made the choice not to strangle anyone this morning and I am thankful for the people that are in my life that are positive and get what a dork I am. I'm thankful that my parents are in relatively good health and that the rest of my family is bearable. I know there are a lot that spend the holidays with a bottle just trying to get through them. Most of all--I am thankful for the people who come here and read and say--I know just what she means. Happy Thanksgiving to you all.

2007-11-20T07:02:00.000-07:00

YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.

I'm a little incensed today. Mostly because I saw a commercial for Kohls that advertised they were opening at FOUR FUCKING AM ON FRIDAY. That's just insanity. INSANITY. Who gets up that early unless they have to. FOUR!! WHATEVER. Most other places are opening at FIVE!!! Not a whole lot better in my opinion. People have lost their bloody minds. A few years ago--SIX was their early opening and they gave goody bags for those stupid enough to drag themselves out of bed that early. My sister and I did it just for fun. We really didn't need to shop but the goody bags held a certain allure. They were pretty good as I recall.

I'm unimpressed with the Denver Broncos this year. As a matter of fact, I only pay attention to the games to see if my football pool numbers won. And last night--they did. 3 quarters worth. I am now WAY ahead in the football pool cash thing. I have to win 3 quarters throughout the year to break even. Actually this year, because we are only doing 14 pools, I was ahead by $10 as of last week. Now I am ahead by $160. And I really kind of needed it. It's been a challenging fall and I look at it as God's way of saying that I will not be struck by lightning--at least for another week.

2007-11-12T06:55:00.000-07:00

WELL, NOW I'VE SEEN EVERYTHING.

I'm pretty sure of it. Yesterday, I saw a couple walking their pidgeon. The bird, not the crazy language you hear in Jamaica. The kids and I were just coming back from our afternoon constitutional and I hear this woman saying "good boy! come on!!" I look to see where the dog is and it's a damn bird. Every time the woman would say good boy, come on--the bird would follow her. Why oh why would you want a sky rat as a pet? It looked like it was just your everyday run of the mill pidgeon. Nothing special. Would just as soon crap on you as look at you.

I spent a while pondering the pidgeon as a pet thing and decided it was just beyond my scope of understanding.

2007-11-09T06:59:00.000-07:00

FRIDAY RANDOMNESS

Alas, I am the guardian of the Ugly Loser Monkey once again. My second player got voted off last night (He was a dumbass anyway and I don't know HOW he lasted this long). I swear--you'd think that some of these people had never seen Survivor. I hate that skinny little skank Courtney. Someone needs to feed her a sammich.

My sister thinks the ULM should be shipped to the Broncos. I agree. But I think my office mates might get miffed since that is the booby prize in Fantasy Survivor. I also play Fantasy Survivor online and Fantasy I love NY2. Just because it's fun.

I am running with scissors and not playing well with others. Not really, but I'm breaking the dress code. I have crocs on today. They are the new style--Troika--so they don't really look like the typical crocs because they are more "winter" in style. Crocs are against the dress code. We'll see if someone says something to me.

Well, here's some news. My boss has evidently removed the stick from his ass. I just got the production schedule and there is Thanksgiving related clip art of a turkey and Happy Thanksgiving. I thought the other woman on our floor did it. She told me no that he had said that she said that he wasn't festive enough. I've worked for the man almost 6 years and would have to agree with that statement. Then he goes and puts clip art on the production schedule. This year end is looking up.

2007-11-08T06:43:00.000-07:00

PEOPLE! IT'S NOVEMBER 8! MONDAY WILL BE NOVEMBER 12.

Why am I being Captain Obvious? Well, because I just heard that the radio station I listen to in my office is going all Christmas on Monday, November 12. I am mildly disturbed by this. I like Christmas music. Just not before Thanksgiving--which by the way is a holiday I could do without. Don't like the food--just like the days off. If I had people to cook for--it might be different. I digress with my randomness.

Back to Christmas music. Back a year or so ago, I had a post regarding the music I hate--Pretty Paper, Christmas Shoes etc. My friends have rather vitriolic comments to make about said Christmas crap. I just think it is too early.

One of my holiday traditions is to create the Bad Bunny Productions Presents Christmas CD for my friends. They have all said they love it. However, someone talked smack about my current favorite Christmas Song--I farted on Santa's Lap. That's the song--not something I did. This song reminds me of someone that I thought a lot of. I still think a lot of them. But none of it is nice at this particular moment.

Anyway--I have threatened that the 2007 BBPP CD will be nothing but that song. You really don't want to piss me off because I will spend months coming up with a way to make you miserable. Again, more randomness.

HOWEVER, I have a couple of songs that haven't been used prior and they are really wonderful songs--one of them I have only heard once and it's just one of those songs that makes me move in my seat. I'll be putting some gospel on there and one of the true classics "I'm gettin nuttin for Christmas".

And to the original point of this post--WTF PEOPLE!!???? It's NOVEMBER!!!

2007-11-05T06:34:00.000-07:00

UGLY LOSER MONKEY

Meet the Ugly Loser Monkey. This thing gives me the creeps. Let me tell you the story behind ULM. Every year, one of the groups where I work hosts a White Elephant/Dirty Santa Christmas exchange, wherein, you bring some crappy present that you don't want (think "Eggstractor" or something equally as useless. You draw numbers and then pick a gift. You can either keep your gift or you can "steal" one from someone else. So it really pays to have a late number in this game. A couple of years ago, there was a big beautiful gift bag that no one would take. So it was the last one left. The woman who got it pulled out all the tissue paper and ULM was in the bottom. I almost wet myself I was laughing so hard. It was the best crappy gift ever. Turns out someone's son had seen it in a friend's mom's trash and asked if he could have it for his mom. And she put it in the crappy gift exhange.

Now the second part of the story about why I was in possession of it. We play Fantasy Survivor at our office. We each draw 2 Survivor contestant names and when they get voted off, if you have their name, you have to have ULM in your office until the next week. At the end of the season, the winner gets lunch and a prize. It's kind of fun and breaks up the mundane.

So now that I have a picture of ULM, I'm thinking I should award the Ugly Loser Monkey prize to any assmonkey I think deserves it. The first winner is my dog, Elvis. I gave him a haircut yesterday and he was so mad at me, he took the post haircut cookie and spit it out and then went out and sat in the yard and pouted for 2 hours. Just stared at the house and sulked. Wouldn't even acknowledge us. It was kind of funny, but he still gets the ULM prize.

2007-11-02T09:56:00.000-06:00

HANG ON. I'VE GOT A BAG OF DOG SHIT IN MY HAND.

Okay--this is not something I would utter on an every day basis. But it was true. A professional colleague called me on my cell phone after I was home and I was doing dog poop patrol. I had just come inside so that I could go to the garage to put it in the trash--which was being picked up the next day. My cell was ringing crazily, so I answered it with Hi--hang on. I've got a bag of dog shit in my hand.

After I threw the bag into the garbage can, I got back on the phone. My colleague said "You know, I don't think I've ever been told that before." Well, he just hasn't caught anyone in their backyard cleaning up dog poop yet. Pretty much, there are no secrets in my brain. Most people know exactly what I am thinking at any given time.

I got a picture of the Ugly Loser Monkey and I will post it hopefully sometime this weekend. I'm thinking of giving an Ugly Loser Monkey award to the various assmonkeys that I encounter in my life. When I post the ULM pic, I will tell the story of how the ULM came to be. The thing actually gives me the creeps.

2007-11-01T07:17:00.000-06:00

SIIGGGGHHHHHHHH.

Some days, I just don't want to get out of bed. Today it was mostly because bed was warm and outside bed was 24 degrees. (not in my house, but you get my point)

Have you ever divorced a friend? Because they did something so heinous that you just couldn't even be civil to them anymore? Well, this situation really isn't like that, but said "friend" is about to lose me out of his life.

This friend is the Poster Boy for Bad Decisions (hereinafter PBBD). Most of the time, his Bad Decisions did not directly affect me per se. However, the latest Bad Decision affects me big time and it affects me enough that he doesn't need to speak to me, maybe ever again. PBBD doesn't seem to think anything is wrong with his behavior. Ballz thinks differently. PBBD keeps making the same kind of Bad Decision over and over again. Isn't that the definition of insanity? That you keep doing the same thing over and over again and expect a different result?

Anyway--the latest round of bad decision making may cost him me. At the very least, I should send him the Ugly Loser Monkey currently sitting in my office for getting voted off Survivor last week. I will bring my digital camera and take a picture of it.

2007-10-30T14:06:00.000-06:00

REASONS I AM GOING TO HELL THIS WEEK

1. I know a big secret and all I can think of is CAGE MATCH. This may seem random--but it's funny as hell because I weigh 130 pounds and think I can open a big can of whoopass to make this happen. Something about old age and treachery???

2007-10-29T06:46:00.000-06:00

AS OF TODAY, WE ARE ALL IN FIRST PLACE

This is a sad day in the life of Ballz. Baseball season is officially over. Softball season is officially over. I took my bat bag out of my car last night and hung it up. Had a moment of silence and made a note to self about buying new cleats next year.

While I do not really follow the Rockies--they are my home town team and I was pretty impressed that they made it to the series. Because with a week to go in the regular season--they weren't going to get there and then look what happened. They won 21 out of 22 games. That feat alone earns my respect. I'm not reallly fond of Boston. I think they are a bunch of prima donnas. Yes, they won the series--good for them. But according to the media--they won the series 2 weeks ago. So what was the point of making us die in Colorado because the computer system crashed and we couldn't get tickets. Hell, the media should have just given them the trophy and said the end.

Which brings me to my point. As of today--we are even. Every team is in first place and when they report on February whatever (the 13th or 14th) for spring training, they all have the same dream. The pennant chase.

Yesterday was a first for me. The last softball games of the season and it was 70 some degrees. That's right. We played our last game without 14 layers of clothes and no snow. The first game was 20-9 (us) and whoever we were supposed to play on the second game forfeited (Sounds like someone had World Series tickets), so it looks like we took 2nd in the league. Over the years, these people have become my friends and so it is sad to say goodbye until April. But goodbye it is and I settle in for the winter and wait for those magic words in about six months. PLAY BALL!!

2007-10-25T08:06:00.001-06:00

THE WORLD SERIES

Yes, my hometown team is playing (The Rox). Yes, they got a can of whoop-ass opened on them last night, but for GOD'S SAKE--THERE ARE STILL SOME GAMES TO PLAY!!!

Damn people--it's not like I own the team. I don't really care. I'm really proud of them for getting there because they have sucked for years and they played their hearts out for the last month of the season. 7 and 0 in the playoffs. It would really be appreciated if the media could at least let the series be played before proclaiming Boston the best team ever. They're a bunch of a-holes from where I sit.

2007-10-24T06:49:00.001-06:00

REASONS WHY I WILL BE STRUCK DOWN BY LIGHTNING

1. I laughed at the TIVO of Marie Osmond fainting on Dancing with the Stars. Laughing isn't really the right word. I GUFFAWED. I scared the dogs it was so loud. That woman went down like a ton of bricks. BOOM!!! Just like one of those goats that drops when it gets the crap scared out of it. I'm sure she was mortified and really, she did handle it with a lot of grace and class, but damn, it was funny. Because NONE of the judges MOVED!!! Sure, everyone in the audience was silent and stunned, but the judges--they just quit judging.

2. This is actually my sister who is going to get hit by lightning, but I was sitting close enough that I may get burned. I know all the old church songs. I paid attention in church when I was a kid, but most importantly--I READ THE HYMNALS. This was an issue at some point when I got in trouble for reading the hymnals (THEY DON'T HAVE PICTURES don't ya know). So when my niece was christening many years ago--I was singing and not looking at the hymnal. But I knew the words. My sisters whispers "What the HELL! How do you know all these songs?" I whispered back "You said HELL in church! Jesus don't like that." But because that was 13 or 14 years ago--maybe he's forgotten.

3. Another church, sister and me story. I'm glad Jesus has sense of humor. Sister and I went to Christmas Eve church at some random church I found near them that had a service at 7 and not midnight. They had candles on the pews (for the candlelight portion of the service) and they were skinny little white candles stuck in those plastic champagne glasses--evidently so that we wouldn't burn ourselves when the wax started melting. We picked up our candles/champagne glasses and waited. The church was pretty full and pretty soon, this rather LARGE woman and her rather LARGE daughter rumbled into the pew in front of us. And sat down. Without picking up said candle/champagne glass. That's right, Mama sat right down on top of it. And it was LOUD. My sister started laughing and nudged me. I tried to give her the stink eye, but she was having no part of it. THEN, the daughter realized that there were candles/champagne glasses on the pew and made her mom move. This is the lightning strike part. The mom had the candle/champagne glass stuck to her polyester pants and I mean that plastic was in SHARDS. My sister and I were shaking we were laughing so hard and then Sister says "She's gonna be picking plastic out of her ass for a week".

That was it. Every time we looked at that woman, it would set off new fits of laughter. Plus, my sister said ASS in church

4. My parents live in a house in Arizona that has an "Arizona" porch, which means they enclosed the porch and made a living room out of it. The original sliding glass door is still there though. My mom had closed the door so my dad could go to bed. Only he didn't know that and he came back through the bedroom to say goodnight to us and WHAM!!! Ran right into the sliding glass door. Shook the whole effing house. Now that was funny enough--but he had just put lotion on his face--so there was a greasy face print on the door. I really really shouldn't laugh at my dad--he's 91 now and he was about 81 when it happened, but oh my god--IT SHOOK THE ENTIRE HOUSE. Even now as I'm typing this--I'm howling with the memory of it.

And those are the reasons I will be struck by lightning.

Some randomness--I love NCIS. I love the character of Tony Denozo (or however you spell it). I AM the character of Tony--except that I'm female. Last night--all I could do was laugh because it was like watching myself.

2007-10-23T15:01:00.000-06:00

THERE COMES A DAY IN EVERYONE'S LIFE WHEN THEY WANT TO SCREAM YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME.

And for me, that day was today. Well, today was the latest day that I have screamed that. First, the world series ticket fiasco. Really--I don't mind watching it at home--too many people who do not belong at baseball games will be there and way too many of them. But it would have been cool to say I actually got to go.

Second--well, I can't really go into details, but let's just say that my floor mate at the office has taken away my scissors and swingline stapler. BUT, I still have my knitting needles. I did manage to come away smiling, however.

2007-10-18T10:52:00.000-06:00

WHERE ARE MY LISTENING EARS?! I have lost them g. dammit and I don't want them back. I have lost them along with my sensitivity and ability to not say everything that's on my mind. I have lost them along with my indoor voice. Maybe never to be seen again.

My eyeballs are stuck from rolling them so much and I have a bruise on my forehead from slamming it on to my desk.

Why oh why do they not make the old fashioned phones that you can actually slam rather than be disconnected digitally? The most effective substitute for this is to hope you have a metal desk, therefore having metal desk drawers. Empty said drawer, throw the receiver in there and close and open the drawer in rapid succession. The receiver rattles around in there, creating quite a noise. Or so I've heard.

2007-10-16T08:53:00.000-06:00

I'M A LITTLE MANIC right now. I am not manic/depressive, but I am in a manic phase right now and cannot slow down. It's kind of annoying.

Rockies Rock! That's all I'm gonna say about that. Mainly because I'm a superstitious bitch--especially when it comes to baseball. I played an entire year with a rip in my softball pants because we were winning. We went undefeated on both teams that year.

But I AM wearing my Rockies Purple today. Had to completely change outfits, but I feel that I must.

It may be a cold series. There was a foot of snow in the mountains on Sunday. I hope we sweep.

TODAY'S LIFE LESSON: There is always one more imbecile than you counted on.

2007-10-15T07:04:00.000-06:00

ROAD KILL IS, AFTER ALL, ROAD KILL NO MATTER HOW High or Low the road is.

At some point, when you are Oh and Two (0-2) in the count--no balls--you've got to take a pitch or two and take your own destiny in your hands. And if you have to take the semi-low road--well, so be it.

And you know what--I feel good about it, because I am right and a quiet dignity is all I need to maintain right now. Sometimes you come out on top simply because you didn't say everything you wanted to. Because someone else is gonna say it for you.

So for the first time in over a month--I am in control again. I am the boss of ME and that is what is necessary. I have friends ready to kick ass and build patios on my behalf. They have become MY PERSON--all of them and they will remind me that I will rise above.

As a side note--I was getting my hair done on Saturday by a woman who has been my friend for years. I told her of the drama that is my life and we managed to find many amusing things about it. Then she asked me what I was doing that night and I told her she would be jealous of me. I mentioned knitting and she seemed rather taken aback. I said "Are you surprised that I know how to knit?" She replied "NO! I'm scared! Do they not realize that you will have sharp pointed objects in your hand and will take an eye out if necessary?" I really hadn't thought of it that way, but she has a point. No pun intended.

2007-10-09T07:43:00.000-06:00

COULD THIS JUST GET ANY BETTER? I am of course referring to I love NY 2. And Midget Mac. When I first saw the cast picture, I thought, Oh my hell--he is not long for the show. But I just LOVE him!!! He is funny and intelligent and he was very respectful of psycho Sister Patterson. She was a shit to him--but he never once lost his cool. I hope they keep him around for a long time.

Okay--people--it really doesn't pay to get all impatient in your car. Especially the car I can see in my rearview mirror. Because I will just laugh at you. I live in a fairly small town. If a train comes through at rush hour, it screws things up for awhile. There is an intersection that has a sign AND painting on the intersection that says "Keep Intersection Clear". This is to allow traffic from the side road to be able to make a right hand turn onto the main road. So I was the first car behind the line that said "Keep Intersection Clear"--leaving about 50 feet between me and the car ahead of me. Just like I was supposed to. The lady in the car behind me was fit to be tied. You could tell that she wasn't from around these parts. I mean, she was flat out pissed that I wasn't moving up. And I just kept watching her get more pissed. She was going to make it through the light. It's long winded. Those of us that live there know that. The guy to my right stopped where he was supposed to, but the idiots to my left--jacked up the intersection. A pox on them.

My point, and I do have one, is that you shouldn't really act out in public in your car. We CAN see you and we WILL make fun of you at some point.

2007-10-08T12:54:00.000-06:00

BRONCOS SUCK. Actually, they would have to improve a WHOLE LOT for them to suck. I have been a fan for 30 years. It's kind of expected when you live in Colorado. This past Sunday was absolutely the worst game EVER. Even the Super Bowl losses weren't this crappy. 'I' could have played better--even with my not quite perfect shoulder. suckitellyou.

On the other hand, the Rockies are awesome. I haven't had season tickets for about 5 years because they weren't really a team that I followed on a regular basis. (unless Pudge comes to play for them, I probably won't) HOWEVER, they are on a roll and I don't really have another interest in the World Series race this year, except that I hope the Yankees get beat. But I always hope that. So anyway--I'm pulling for the Rockies-hometown team and all.

Trainwreck TV--Rock of Love is over. The girl I liked won. I wanted her to win, but I didn't want her to end up with the hasbeen. Oh, my bad, the lead singer from Poison. That was crazy at its best and tonight--I Love NY2 starts. That woman is crazy. I've never understood wearing regular bras under halter tops. Well, she almost had to because her girls hung to her knees. And YET, she had more added to them. That one guy, Tango, I liked on ILNY1. He didn't deserve that kind of crazy and it was a fabulous moment in my life when he dumped her on the reunion show. I sure wish Jes could have come up with something better than she did when she dumped Bret. At least she wasn't stupid enough to get a damn tattoo.

2007-09-26T14:58:00.000-06:00

DID YOU EVER WANT TO TELL SOMEONE TO DRINK A BIG GLASS OF STFU?

And as I always say to people, if you have to ask, yes, it's you.

But really. What is important to you may not hold the same importance for ANYONE else in the free world. Think about what you are saying and then think about who you are saying it to. And if you are being a bitch just because YOU think it's funny--don't. Because eventually people will notice how nasty you are.

I have been known to have a rampant case of not STFU every once in awhile and I'm about to get another one. So part of the reason I posted this is so that I can read it in a few days to remind myself. But there is another part of the reason too. And all I can say about that is that sometimes you gotta take a big girl/boy pill.

2007-09-24T06:38:00.001-06:00

THE ROCKET SCIENTIST

I have a shirt that says "Rocket Scientist. Ask me about my scars". I love this shirt. It is a shirt that a friend created for me, due to the fact that even though I may BE a rocket scientist, I am still a dumbass occasionally. The scars in question are from a hand held steamer. You know, the kind that have a big warning label on them that says "Do not use while wearing the clothes you are steaming". I have 4 perfectly round scars on my hip to demonstrate why. Actually they have faded now, but I still remember how much it hurt.

Anyway, I was sitting in my friend's kitchen one morning and her husband asked me a dumb question (both Deb and I thought it was dumb). And I replied, "I AM a Rocket Scientist, you know." Deb added "Just ask her about her scars". And the shirt was born.

So I had this shirt on Saturday. It is normally a shirt that I don't wear in public, just around the house. But I wore it to get my nails done on Saturday afternoon. There was an older lady sitting across the lobby from me and she said "What does your shirt say?" I told her and she said "Bottle Rockets, right?" Um, no, I actually have a PhD.

"Well, what does the scar part mean?" Um, for having an advanced degree, I'm not very bright sometimes.

"That's the way it is. Usually people only know what they are trained in." My doctorate is in safety engineering.

"Oh. My granddaughter worked for ______ and she went out this summer and took pictures at work sites of everything everyone did wrong. She knows a lot about OSHA, but she fell from a ladder--15 feet up and landed on her head." Hold up--if she took a header off a ladder from 15 feet, chances are she's dead. But the lady went ON--so by the time she went back to her appointment, I am seriously doubting her story. That and she didn't know shit about OSHA.

So, note to self--don't wear Rocket Scientist shirt in public anymore. It gets way too annoying.

Softball update--We have a month to go in the season. I think I am ready for the season to be over. I have been hitting the crap out of the ball, but had about 5 unforced errors last night. Most involved me backhanding the ball--had the g.d. ball in my glove, but then the ball jumped OUT of my glove and hauled ass into the outfield. Then there was the play that was mine all the way that the first baseperson effed up because she doesn't think I can play.

Before the game started, I called our shortstop a dumbass. He told me that if I got on base (I was coming up to bat), I could call him dumbass the rest of the game. The manager of the team told me I could call him that even if I didn't get on base last night. I went 5 for 5. I guess I should call him dumbass more often.

We lost--again. Wasn't for lack of trying.

2007-09-20T10:30:00.000-06:00

I'M SO HAPPY THE NEW TV SEASON is starting. Although, we have some shows to wrap up from the summer. Talking about Rock of Love, people. I was discussing this about a month ago with some professional colleagues and they were stunned that I would watch such drivel, that I wasn't the type. Please. Don't you just love watching effed up people that are not you or anyone you know? THEN, they say--it's just editing. People. You cannot edit in crazy. Either it's there or it's not. Let's take um LACEY for example. Grade A crazy. I'm sure it was "editing". um hmmmmmmm. Presidential scholar? WTH. That's a high school program and she is NOT in high school anymore and NOT applying to colleges, so who cares.

My particularly favorite line was when her equally batshit crazy dad told Bret Michaels that he would have to sign a pre-nup. Bret's just looking for a good time as far as I can tell. Fabulous trainwreck. Can't wait for the end. Because THEN it is I love NY 2 and Flava of Love 3!!!!

Then we have Kid Nation. Parents--I feel bad for you because I'm pretty sure this is what just regular every day life is for you. I just loved the little brave kid Jimmy who said he was too young to be there and went home. Bless his heart. And I don't mean that in the Southern translation. My favorite little one on the show--and I mean that in the Bless his Heart Southern translation--was Jarred from Georgia. He's a diva in the making. DIVA. He actually made a comment about the outhouse that went something like this 'I hope I don't have to poo because that outhouse is disgusting!!' Got news for you kid--if you don't poo in 40 days, there will be something really wrong with you. It's called Death. My sister confirmed that you can in fact die if you don't "poo". Don't ask me why I asked her that.

The "We have to PROVE we can do it" line got a little old. I don't give a crap whether or not you can DO IT. Wear a pair of Nikes. "Mike" is gonna get on my last nerve fast. He's that kid that ends up stuffed in a locker. A lot.

And of course, Survivor starts tonight.

2007-09-19T06:57:00.001-06:00

HERE IS A REAL CASE OF SHUT UP GET OUT.

I was carded twice in a week. I am about 26 years out of carding range. For those of you who lack basic math skills or have a slow hamster on the wheel--I'm 47.

I was sitting at a little cafe in DC and I ordered a Vanilla Skyye martini. I was with a young man, probably 15 years younger than me, if not more--a fellow safety professional. The waitress asked to see my id. I had to finish laughing before I handed it to her. It made me weak.

THEN, about 4 days later, I was at dinner with my parents--the dogsitters--we were at "Famous Dave's" being waited on by "Famous Amy" and I ordered a margarita. Famous Amy carded me. This time, she had to wait for my mother to quit laughing.

I was telling my softball team about this--after a discussion about me being the 'senior' member of the team and one of the younger women said--you must have looked HOT. Yeah, that's it.

2007-09-18T08:53:00.000-06:00

DOUBLE POST TODAY--WAFFLE MARKS ON YOUR ASS

Someone reminded me about this today and I felt it necessary to share. I was recently at a conference in DC and it was beautiful weatherwise, so we ate outdoors alot. I also wore skirts, which were technically "Mini" skirts (although not crotch skimming like ONE of the attendees). For some odd reason, all the chairs were those metal chairs with the holes. The kind that leave waffle prints on your legs and ass. This became quite a concern for me because if you sit there and eat and drink long enough, you will end up with waffle prints for like 2 hours.

So, I was with one of my professional colleagues, whom I would like to think of as a friend also and I realized that this would happen. I told him--I hate waffle marks on my ass. How am I going to prevent this. The only option was the menu. I sat on my menu. When the waiter came to take our order--he only got back one menu. He was confused. I explained that I was sitting on it and that I would give it back when we were leaving. He said--that's okay--you just keep it.

The waffle mark joke became the running waffle mark joke. Every friggin restaurant had these chairs.

So this morning I get an important email from him asking for a celebrity death match opponent for Chachi (from Happy Days) I replied that I thought he wanted REALLY important information like how to prevent waffle marks on his ass. He replied back "I already know. Sit on a menu".

So now you all know too.

2007-09-18T07:08:00.000-06:00

CROSSROADS. No, I'm not talking about that horrible Britney Spears movie, although the crossroads I am at would be considered a trainwreck as well.

Now, normally, I like a good trainwreck. As long as it isn't happening to me. That old song "Should I stay or should I go" is on a continuous loop in my head. And the dichotomy is horrendous. Being a gemini, I am a little split personality anyway. But I have this one side of me that says Fight for this you stupid bitch. Then there is the other side of me that says Why you wanna put yourself through this even one more day. You stupid bitch.

So I'm kind of stuck in a big old pile of crap and I'm not willing to move just yet. What the hell. I'm on auto pilot and I don't like being here. I have a friend who is paralleling this very experience. It is amazing to hear her story. Because it is my story only she is 10 years younger than I am (maybe more) But it is the same story. We have homework in between our conversations. I am willing to do the homework, but I'm not sure it makes me feel better or worse.

I have had to start knitting again. I can't think about anything but knitting when I am knitting. So at least my brain doesn't hurt. If my brain hurts, my heart hurts and that has to stop. I started my project last night and it is amazing how quickly that skill comes back. The last time I had to knit was when I was in college and I was all stressed out and getting ulcers. Again--when knitting, that's all you can think about.

For those who tune in on a regular basis--I know you were expecting something funny, so I will post something for you to laugh at. The other weekend, we had a large victory in the first game of a double header, mercy rule and all. So we had some time between games. I was sitting in the dugout, eating seeds and spitting. Both of which are perfectly acceptable at a softball game. Someone walked in front of me and I told them to watch out because they were in my spitting path and since I was an amateur spitter, they should probably watch out. They looked at me and said "Amateur?" I said, "Yes--because I'm such a lady and all" There was dead silence in the dugout and then a lot of laughter. I guess I've used certain words ONE too many times, negating the "lady" thing.

2007-08-07T10:39:00.001-06:00

PEOPLE HAVE ASKED ME WHAT I THINK ABOUT BARRY BONDS breaking Hank Aaron's record. First of all, they aren't even in the same league. Hank is a true gentleman of the game. Bonds is a cheater. A steroid pumped no class cheater. The fact that he will hit more home runs than Hank is a given. I can't change that. But I still don't think that Barry is all that HE thinks he is. It's well known that he is a prima donna and a whiner. I'm kind of like Bud Selig on this matter--don't really care. And I think that a lot of people who follow baseball are exactly like me. I thought Hank Aaron summed it up well. He said "I'm an old man. I'm not getting on a plane for Barry Bonds." Don't blame you at all.

I remember when Hank hit 750. I was watching that game. It happened when I was 14 years old. I remember how excited I was. I called someone and they didn't give a rat's behind. I called another friend and she happened to be watching as well. She wasn't as thrilled as I was, but she understood. As far as I'm concerned, Bonds should have an astrisk by his name. Those who follow the game will understand.

2007-06-28T07:14:00.000-06:00

I SUPPORT YOUR CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHT TO BE A DUMBASS. Really I do. But some days, I just want to poke myself in the eye with a sharp stick.

As anyone who reads this blog knows, I am a safety manager. Safety is my business. And don't bother pointing out that poking yourself in the eye with a sharp stick is inherently NOT safe. I know that. It's a figurative poke, not a literal poke and if you don't quit interrupting me, I will just beat you with said stick.

Yesterday, I was in the shipping and receiving area of my company. Someone from the OFFICE area came down in HIGH HEELED SANDALS. She stood in the actual dock area talking to the S&R supervisor. I stood there and watched and I finally said that she should be wearing more appropriate footwear. She snapped 'I know!' and stomped off. I watched her and then said to the safety committe chairman--well, if she KNOWS, why isn't she fucking DOING it. I went back to my office and had no sooner sat down, than I received the following from her supervisor.

"Dr. Ballz* (name changed to protect--me),

Betty* told me that you mentioned that when she is in the shipping area she should be wearing different shoes than she had on today. Neither she nor I had knowledge of this regulation. I knew we were supposed to wear closed toe shoes when we worked in the warehouse area but I didn't know we had to if we were just in the area. Actually, I broke the rules big time this morning wearing high heel open toed sandals and moving boxes with a dolly. Maybe it would be a good idea if I had a copy of the rules so that we do not break them again.

Thanks,

Martha*

Okay--so if you read this carefully, it says that neither one of them had knowledge of the regulation. But in the very next 2 sentences--she admits knowledge of having to wear closed toe shoes when they were working in the area. AND THEN--she admits to breaking the rules herownself. And yet--she needs a copy of the RULES. See why I want to poke myself in the eye sometimes?

This morning, I was driving to work and a motorcycle rider came up on my right. I was on a 2 lane road (one lane each way) and this jackass passed me and the truck in front of me on the RIGHT. I just shook my head until I noticed that he wasn't wearing a helmet--BUT--he WAS wearing hearing protection. So if he gets into a wreck--his head will be beat to hell, but his hearing will be intact.

Some days, it does not pay to get out of bed.

2007-05-31T14:38:00.000-06:00

GOOD SPOT FOR IT

My mom told me NOT to talk about this any more, but I'm going to because she is not the boss of me.

Last weekend was Memorial Day weekend--I love it most of all because it is my birthday weekend and I managed to get a 4 day weekend out of it which I loved most of all. I needed it because I had been through 2 conferences in the preceding two weeks, one of which I was responsible for and one of which I was not. I digress.

On the Saturday during the weekend, I walked the dogs up to the McDonalds to rent a movie at the Redbox. Everybody that lived in town had the same idea. I was waiting patiently for my turn and some bitch cut right in front of me. You see, there are 2 kiosks and I was waiting for one of them to open up. She stood in line at the one I was not standing in front of and when the dumb bitch who rented 15 movies finally got them all, she stepped right in. Of course, I was a little distracted by the puking kid. That's what my mom told me to shut up about, but I feel compelled to share this so that if YOU are the parent of a puking kid, you will avoid this situation. The one renting the 15 movies? Well, she was the mother of said puker. She kept sending dad over to check on the kid in the car. At that point, he wasn't puking. But it was 85 degrees and I'm sure that car was about 100 or more.

The dad went over about 15 times and then yelled at the kid to stay in the car. The kid said something, so dad went over yet again. This time, he came back with the kid and they started to go into the McD's. All of a sudden the kid leans over and starts to barf. A lot. I am a reflex gagger. I see it, I want to join in. And on a hot day--it stunk. And the kid keeps going. Pretty soon, the entire entrance into McD's is covered with smelly puke. And the dumbass Dad makes no move to pull his kid away from the door. I felt bad for the kid because it was obvious he had too much crap food to eat (no--I won't describe how I know that) and got WAYYYY overheated. But I was PISSED at the parents for #1--taking an hour to rent their G.D. movies when the kid obviously did not feel well and #2--letting him puke all over the sidewalk in front of McD's. The next people through the door on the way out didn't see it and you guessed it . . .

I was with my two terriers who normally are very hyper and with all those people around, they are jonesing for petting. I will say they were pretty good and kind of ignored everything til I rented the movie.

So, there you have it, topics not discussed in polite company. And my mom can't do a thing about it.

2007-04-11T07:45:00.000-06:00

As most of my friends know--I am a reality tv junkie. The worse the trainwreck, the better. My most favorite of recent times--I LOVE NY. I loved the Flava of Love shows and watched every damn episode, so I love NY could only be the trainwreck of the century. And it was. It just got worse and worse until the last two morons were standing. If she really wants a permanent relationship--she picked the right guy, Tango. I can only hope she actually marries him and I get to see the train wreck that would be "I Married NY". I guess we'll see if they are actually still together this week at the reunion show.

Survivor--still great reality tv. Really glad when they voted off Rocky, the a-hole. Amazing Race--HATE HATE HATE the troll cousins and their weird accent that they get when talking to the locals.

Dancing with the Stars--not as good this year as it has been. But I am watching it to see Heather Mills get voted off because I don't think she's that good. Hell with her fake leg--she's not that good.

Breaking Bonaduce--will this show be back since the little Mrs. filed for divorce? I can't believe she lasted this long. That guy is a trainwreck all by himself. He doesn't NEED a show.

Last but not least--American Idol. If the little twits don't stop voting for Sanjayjay, I will vomit. I hate that kid with the heat of a thousand suns. If I were 12, I'd love him because his hair is a lot like David Cassidy's. But I'm not, so I hate him.

Baseball season has started and I am at peace once again.

2007-01-31T07:57:00.000-07:00

A very good friend of mine and a now published author shared the following "My grandmother taught me that getting up and saying whatever is on your mind doesn't always make you a strong assertive woman. Sometimes it just makes you a bitch who talks too much"

Think about it. I work in a very male dominated industry--it is getting more and more women, but it is still male dominated. That never bothered me. What bothers me is women who think they are smarter than everyone else or who think they have to act like Bitchzilla to get any where in their field. You don't. If you know your shit, it will be recognized. Eventually. It's kind of like karma. Sometimes you have to wait for it and if you are an incredibly patient person like I am (I'll wait for you to quit laughing), eventually it will happen.

Here is my story of the day. Telemarketers suck. Last night, I answered the phone and one of the vermin was on the other end. I couldn't understand this guy at all. Not one word. I think he was speaking English, but I couldn't understand him. I did understand my phone number and last name and said yes that's me. He kept talking about a coupon I filled out when I was out shopping and I racked my brains trying to remember if I did anything like that. I told him I couldn't recall such a thing. He jumps on that and says "You can't recall? But you might have?" I told him I didn't think I did and he made his fatal mistake. He said, maybe your husband, Mr. Ballz, filled it out. Click.

I still don't know what the hell he wanted, but he called back and I just let my secretary (the answering machine) pick up for me. He didn't leave a message. Good thing, I probably couldn't understand it anyway.

2007-01-16T08:46:00.000-07:00

THE ANSWER ME JESUS

One of my crazy assed friends pointed this out to me. It's kind of like a Magic 8 ball, but Jesus. A big, pink plastic Jesus that is supposed to answer you when you ask it questions. Only it doesn't. Answer Me Jesus does not work. There is something wrong with the magic 8 ball part of it. I am so disappointed. I bought it to bring to work because it's funny. Only now Jesus has to go back and I will not have Jesus to Answer Me when I have questions. Such as why do people who think they know everything have lives that I would not want because they obviously DON'T know everything?

I'll bet if Answer Me Jesus were working--He would have an answer for that question. Or what about--Jesus--when will it quit snowing and get above freezing in Colorado? Or do you think Jesus would defer to that bitch Mother Nature?

In any case, Answer me Jesus will be packed in its original packaging and shipped back to the company for a full refund.

2007-01-15T07:55:00.000-07:00

YOU KNOW WHO YOUR BEST FRIENDS ARE WHEN

They send you booze through the US mail. Last week, I received a box from one of my best friends--it contained 2 beautiful martini glasses, a calender and a bottle of Pineapple Vodka, that she personally slaved over.

I went home and immediately poured myself a cocktail--pour over ice, shake and drain into one of the martini glasses. She cautioned me NOT to dilute with ice in the glass and she was right. I had 2. Given that I don't drink a whole lot--two was plenty if you get my drift. I turned off my phone so I didn't drunk dial the wrong people.

I begged her for the recipe because I will be making myself some of this wonderful elixir. I need to start now because it takes 7 days. I will DIE if I don't have some on hand always. I'm trying to figure out how to take it with me on my next business trip to D C. Because that is how much I like it.

2007-01-09T08:35:00.000-07:00

Quit Nagging! Sometimes it takes me awhile to get my snark recharged. And after all this effing snow--I've been a little busy shoveling.

First of all, I used to like Rosie O'Donnell. Now, I just want her to shut her pie hole. Does anyone really give a shit what her opinions are any more?

Trainwreck tv is back in the form of 'I LOVE NY'. This is the dumb broad that was on the past two Flava of Love shows and lost both times. She is the strangest looking woman ever. She looks like a BRATZ doll. And she's skanky. Anyway, she got her own show on VH1 and it premiered last night. I almost laughed myself unconscious. First of all, she doesn't have money and she's not famous, so this is like GHETTO BACHELORETTE. Then the guys they bring in--it just makes you go What the hell? However, it is very entertaining, so of course, you will find me in front of the teevee on Monday nights, taking copious notes so that I may poke fun at her and her crazy mama.

Christmas gift that sucked: My mom, I mean Santa, puts together a pretty good stocking for my sister and me at Christmas. There was an issue whether I was even going to GET to AZ for Christmas due to all the g.d. snow we've had, but a nice lady at Frontier Airlines said I was so nice to her while trying to re-book after my original flight was cancelled that she would have done anything to help me. I digress. I open one of the stocking gifts and it was a dishtowel with Cardinals on it. The bird. I looked at Mom and said, this was just plain mean since the Cards BEAT the Tigers in the world series and you KNOW that I was rooting for the Tigers. Mom looked at me and said--just give it to your sister. She likes Cardinals. I can't help your problem.

2006-12-15T08:26:00.000-07:00

DEAR SANTA:

I hope this makes it to the North Pole by Christmas Eve, unlike the box that has not made its destination YET!

2006 was challenging for a lot of us, not to mention outright sucky, so I hope 2007 is a lot better.

You did pretty well on the 2006 list for me, Pudge made it to the World Series again, but didn't win. I'm still compelled to whine about it though. So, I would like to request that Pudge make it to a World Series again and win. I hope he has a great 2007 season and that his batting average is .350.

I'd like certain friendships to re-establish themselves and for said parties to , well, quit acting like assholes--people make mistakes, you can only push their buttons so long before they give you a big ol' shove back.

I'd like some prosperity to come back into my live and the lives of friends who have had some financial crap to put up with over the past couple of years. It's time that we shouldn't have to worry about things, you know?

I'd like some happiness in the life of a certain acquaintance. Life is too short to be as miserable as they are. People in their life will understand and if they don't--they need to be reminded they don't have to deal with it on a daily basis. (yes--I know the grammar is horrible, but I'm trying to protect their identity)

I'd like an easier year physically. The surgery was a drag and now there is another issue that I am having to cope with. I don't want to name it yet, but it could be very serious and I'm waiting for the second round of tests before I say anything. Hopefully it is nothing.

I'd like the fucking mouse population that has taken up residence in my house to move somewhere else. Jesus Christ--there's enough poison in my house to kill an elephant and yet, there is fresh mouse shit in my pantry this morning.

I'd like my car to keep running well for another couple of years. I don't want any major repairs there or in my home.

I'd like the Marine to get home safely--he's headed stateside very soon and I hope that you see that his trip goes off with no problems. I'm glad he's done.

Please try to take care of the people who are less fortunate than me. At least I have a roof over my head and food for me and the dogs. There are those who don't have that and I hope you have extra for them.

Here's to a great 2007--there are other things that I really really want, but that's between us.

Love,
Ballz

2006-12-13T07:17:00.000-07:00

I have had the best couple of days.

First of all, I have decided that I absolutely love the I farted on Santa's lap song. It cracks me up. The intro sounds like something you'd hear at an elementary school concert with just the piano. I need to find a kid to teach it to and make him sing it every year until I can't play piano any more. Yes, I mean when said kid is 40, he will still be singing that song. I don't know WHY I think it's funny (well, I do know why, but I don't want to discuss it here. There is another person involved and evidently, HE doesn't think it's as funny as I do, but nonetheless, I think of him every time I hear that song.) As a matter of fact--my day is NOT complete until I hear that song on the radio. I mean, my heart literally races when I hear that intro.

So, today, there was a big discussion of the Christmas Pickle on the radio show I listen to. Last year when I went to the drag queen Christmas pageant/show, there were two gay guys there with Santa Hats that had pickles attached. Now I know what the hell that was all about. Anyway--they started talking about "Hide the Pickle" and I almost had to pull over I was laughing so hard. I really am beginning to think I'm immature. But DAMN, it was funny.

Well, I need to start thinking about the Dear Santa letter, so stay tuned.

2006-12-11T11:31:00.000-07:00

KOHLS Senior Discount Day

Supposedly Senior citizens get an additional 10 or 15% off already low sales prices. The discount day is usually on a Wednesday. Here's the rub: My mom and dad live in Sun City AZ--a place literally packed with senior citizens. Seriously--you can't move without being run into with one driving a golf or grocery cart or following one for 40 miles with their blinker on--shit--some of them can hardly see over the steering wheel. Anyway, my mom was headed to the senior discount day at the local Kohls.

She calls me up and she's all pissed off. Why? Because there were so many damn people in the store you could hardly move! Hello? Mom--you do live in the old people capital of the world (and I don't give a rat's behind if that is the wrong spelling/ and or usage of the word capital). duh.

2006-11-29T11:09:00.000-07:00

The Christmas Letter You've always Wanted to Write

Come on--you know you want to--My life is so effing dull, mine wouldn't be funny at all, but I'll give it a shot:

HOLIDAY GREETINGS TO ONE AND ALL:

Well, my life has been terribly hectic this year, what with all the mouse killing and surgeries. I only did about 5 racewalks because it was just too effing cold and I didn't feel like getting up out of bed on a perfectly good Sunday morning, driving 20 miles, freezing my ass off and then driving home again. (I actually only missed one of the 4 I'm used to doing)

I finally caught the little bastard mouse that was terrorizing me for about 2 months last year and thought I was done. Not so much. They have now eaten an entire box of de-con and show no signs of quitting. I damn near have to wear a level A hazmat suit every time I go into the kitchen. Not because it smells, but because they have a bad habit of darting out whenever I open the pantry door and it is the only way I don't get the heebie-jeebies and by the way, every time I hear "heebie jeebie" I think of that movie Madagascar and the lemurs. They seriously crack me up. "I love him so much that it makes your love of him look like hate" BWAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! Sorry--I digress, just be glad I don't give you the earworm from that movie.

I played some ball over the last year, but alas, age has caught up with me and I ended up with a shoulder problem. Not sure if it was volleyball or softball or a combo of both, but had to breakdown and have surgery in July and that was no fucking walk in the park. You know you are at a low point when your sister puts your underwear on for you and knows what kind of wax job you get. THEN I got to have a second surgery to break up the scar tissue from the first surgery and ended up with a bruise from the shot of demerol that I still have 2 months later.

I found out that certain people are really not as special as I thought and they are going to have a time convincing me that they are. I miss other people very much and can't wait for them to get to where I can see them again.

I'm still not married/seeing anyone blah blah blah, so quit fucking asking me about it. And I'm too old to have a baby, so shut up about that while you're at it. And as long as I'm on the subject--I don't really care about how your 2 year old is progressing with potty training. Some of y'all--I do want to hear about your kids, but you know who you are.

I'm still in love with Pudge, as if I needed to actually write that down and still can't talk about the World Series without weeping.

Work is fine. I go every day. I haven't received a promotion or anything like that, although they do like me here.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! I hope 2007 is a hell of a lot better than this year was.

Love,
Ballz

2006-11-28T06:50:00.000-07:00

ALL ABOARD THE PMS EXPRESS!!!! First stop--mood swings!

I swear to God--yesterday, I had so many mood swings, I didn't even need to exercise. By the end of the day, I was actually laughing at how ridiculous it was. I'm sick to death of people whining about stupid shit. And when I found out that someone that I work with was screwing the company in a big way over the last year or so--that really pissed me off. And let me mention that this company I work for has bent over backwards for this particular a-hole.

I do have to say that I'm glad the PMS express only runs a couple of days a month. I generally try to hibernate during that time simply because it's not fair to subject people to this. Some people deserve my wrath, most don't. And while I'm on the bitchy wagon--I hate glitter. Despise it. I hosted a card swap and some people use glitter randomly, so my new rule is--if it ain't glued to the card--don't use it. I've got glitter all over my house. And me. And the dogs. That shit does not vacuum up or go away. Ever.

Last night, I was making my own personal Christmas cards (That's right--if you get a card from me, it is handmade and you better care for it like it's your own child) and had glitter embossing powder every where. Screw it--I'm not gonna sweat it now. It's too much right now.

2006-11-27T15:25:00.000-07:00

IT IS UPON US.

The time of year where you're just sitting at your desk and something comes on the radio that you almost break 3 ribs trying to get to the off switch before you hear too much more of it. That's right--the time of year that they play Christmas music. Now, don't get me wrong--there is an awful lot of it that I like. HOWEVER, there is a lot of it I don't. The Christmas shoes song for example makes me want to hunt down the composer and bitch slap him. Same with the "animal" songs--dogbarking jingle bells, catmeowing jingle bells. That bastard ought to be locked in a room and made to listen to those effing songs for 30 days. Then he can kiss my ass.

Some people LOVE the songs that I hate. I don't fault them. They're half crazy, but I can't fault them.

2006-11-20T11:06:00.000-07:00

OH MY GOD. There is not one thing on me that doesn't hurt and today is better than yesterday was. Will someone PLEASE remind me that I am not 35 anymore? That's kind of rhetorical--please don't remind me--it just pisses me off that I can hurt like this. I'm talking about the I can hardly walk kind of hurt, where it takes you 5 minutes after you stand up to actually start moving in a forward motion.

What would possibly cause this type of agonizing pain? The first race of the season--that's what. I take full responsibility for it. After my surgery this summer, I quit doing anything that remotely resembled exercise. Oh sure, I walked the dogs every day, but that was more of a stroll and my right arm was not involved at all in the process. So, I'm thinking to myself that I should be able to do 3 miles with no problem. And I did. The problems started about 3 hours after the race--I was exhausted--could hardly hold my head up. Then the stiffness set in. I actually went to sleep at 7 pm on Saturday night. Then on Sunday when I tried to get up--it took me like 20 minutes to stand up and every time I got up during the day, I would have to wait about 5 minutes before I could actually move. I almost cried every time I had to go upstairs for something. And of course, my damn dogs had to go on their walk. Twice.

Today is a lot better, but I have to watch how long I sit. Otherwise, I have to wait 5 minutes before I decide I'm not going to pass out from the pain. I don't remember it being like this ever before.

2006-11-16T15:11:00.000-07:00

THE HAINT IS BACK

And frankly, I'm kind of spooked, no pun intended. The haint hadn't been around for awhile and when I got home from work the other day, it was back. The light that you have to turn on with a remote was on. I wish that it would find something that didn't cost me money to let me know it's there. I don't think it means harm. I think the haint is there just telling me that I am okay or some shit like that. If it REALLY wanted me to like it--it would make like St. Patrick and lead the mice out of my house.

2006-11-10T10:26:00.000-07:00

I'M ON A DAMN ROLL.

I love it when everything that comes out of my mouth is funny. At least to me. The score of the last 3 days was a photo op with the Asst. Secretary of Labor. They put one of my co-professionals behind me and I told him not to grab my ass. Did I mention I was standing next to the Asst. Secretary? The AS turned to me and said "Excuse me?" I said, I wasn't talking to you.

That DC jaunt is a long assed trip for 3 days. My shoulder is good and flared up and I am tired. And pissed. I won't go into why I am pissed, but I am.

This morning when I was feeding the dogs, I got a nasty surprise. A fucking mouse. A live one. In the pantry. I hate those g.d. things and I guess I'm going to have to call an exterminator because there's more than I can kill. That's not why I'm pissed either.

I need this weekend. I need some down time and I need some time to reassess. It's bad when you get to this point, but I am.

And oh by the way--I don't want to be in your little exclusive club anyway. Since you don't want new ideas--I don't feel much compelled to share mine any more. And no--that's not why I'm pissed either. The ass kissing afterwards really turned my stomach.

2006-11-06T13:03:00.000-07:00

I FOUND A DEAD MOUSE.

Finally. Of course, the rest of them had the good sense to crawl off and die out of my sight and no they haven't stunk yet. But I know they are dead. The upstairs mouse bit the dust some time over the weekend. I found him last night. Of course, I had to do the icky mouse dance when I saw him and then the sad realization set in that because I am the only human in the house, I would have to dispose of him. I should have taken a hit off the whiskey that I keep in the house for medicinal purposes for courage. But to be honest, I forgot about it until just now.

Anyway--I go downstairs and put on rubber gloves and get the dustpan and broom out of the garage. Go back upstairs, grumbling obscenities under my breath the entire way, sweep the cretin up into the pan and hold it as far away from me as I can. Go back downstairs and throw it away in the big trashcan in the garage. ick. Then I emptied the kitchen trash can on top of him so I wouldn't have to look at it everytime I threw something out.

So today, my friends were giving me a bad time about how domestic I was becoming--not about the mouse, but other things. See--I baked a cake yesterday for someone's birthday. It was really good. I think I'm channeling my grandpa. He was a chef and the way he showed someone that he loved them was to feed them until they couldn't move. My grandma was like that and my dad is like that. I blame my dad being a southerner for that need to feed thing. The grandma and grandpa I'm talking about were strictly Yankees. But we ate well. And I'm not that domestic, or at least I don't want people to know I am. I used to work with a group of about 8 men. I would fix lunch every month or so, but would tell them I couldn't cook. One of them used to tell me--you need more practice. I knew he was teasing, but we had lunch every month for about 2 years. I'm a pretty good cook, but don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain.

2006-10-30T14:11:00.000-07:00

AS OF TODAY, WE ARE ALL IN FIRST PLACE.

I have been in mourning the last couple of days. My team could not have played any worse in the World Series and I refused to even speak about it until today. I said about 10 words and then added, I shall never speak of this again. I lost a damn bet--which I am actually more than happy to pay up on, but got told that i wasn't going to be held to the bet. I'll pay up--I don't mind.

Anyway, all I could think of was the old commercial with George Steinbrenner and other baseball guys singing "The sun will come out tomorrow" and the print tag line at the end was "As of tomorrow, we're all in first place". I believe it was run directly after the World Series one year. Funniest damn commercial ever. I wish I could find it so I could load it to my computer.

Had a good laugh today and 40 something women will appreciate this--we had a conversation about our teen crushes and ALL of us had crushes on the same teen idols. It comes back like it was yesterday and who had what and what Tiger Beat had to say about ________ (fill in popular teen idol of the 70s here). It really makes us all laugh because we will admit to it 100 %. I did not have a Donny and Marie lunch box, but my room was wallpapered with David Cassidy. What brought all this nostalgia on? Donny was on QVC this morning, hawking his dvd set of the Donny and Marie show. Some woman called and was going on about how on Friday night, she was glued to the tv and everyone had to be absolutely quiet. No, it was not me--but it could have been. Sometimes your teenage years are kind of funny. In hindsight. Of course, I think I am a world class dork, but that's okay.

And now my "what the hell" story of the day--I have a ghost. Saturday morning at 2:30 am or thereabouts--my brain was telling my comatose self that there was a lot of light for that time of night in my room. I managed to get to a semi-conscious state and the overhead light was on. The only way you can turn it on is with a remote, which is on my nightstand. Both dogs were more asleep than I was. I turned it off and finally went back to sleep. Yesterday, I was ironing in my bedroom--no lights necessary because it was the middle of the day. I went to the bathroom to get more water for my iron and when I came back in the room--the effing light was on again. No one was anywhere near the remote. I do not find this amusing. At all.

2006-10-18T07:31:00.000-06:00

MOUSE CHRONICLE UPDATE

This really isn't a very exciting update. However, I put decon down on Saturday and I happened to look at it last night. I shall have dead mice shortly. Those suckers have been eating the crap out of it. You can actually see the bottom of the box.

It just leads to one small issue. Instead of live mice scurrying out from behind stuff, I will be finding dead ones. Which I suppose is a lot better than live ones, except that I will have to dispose of them. Perhaps they will just crawl off under something and die and I will never have to deal with them.

PS--added later--I just got done having lunch with a woman who had a similar mouse problem. She said she killed 12 with decon. I thought that my lack of poison in the box was a little much for just one mouse. I am even MORE grossed out. Someone is going to have to help me dispose of the mouse bodies. Especially if they are in as bad a shape as she described to me--GRAPHICALLY. Seriously, I almost couldn't finish my lunch. I may have to move.

2006-10-16T10:30:00.000-06:00

THE MOUSE CHRONICLES

Okay, I've come to accept it-I've got mice. I hate them and I try to trap them humanely. Of course, then I let them die in the trap, but really--isn't that beside the point?

First of all, the guy on QVC is full of shit when he says that a few drops of peppermint oil is a natural rodent repellent. I know for a fact that ain't true. And here is why.

Friday night I was feeding my dogs. For some odd reason, I moved the food bin away from the wall and what should happen to scurry out? AN EFFING MOUSE! And I had a cotton ball SATURATED with peppermint oil in there! THAT'S HOW I KNOW IS DOES NOT WORK. So while I'm standing there trying to decide whether I want to shit or go blind, my dogs, the dogs that were BRED TO KILL VERMIN, just stand there and watch this stupid mouse trundle across the floor under the dishwasher. They don't bark, they don't make a move--NOTHING. I had the damn creeps for, well, I still have them. I can't get rid of them and every time I open the pantry to get dog food or anything else, I pray beseechingly to God to please not let any mice scurry out, scaring the shit out of me in the process. I have taken to standing way to the right of the door to give any offending rodents a clear shot to the dishwasher.

Saturday morning, I bought a whole crapload of Decon. Screw the trap.

2006-10-11T14:36:00.000-06:00

OBVIOUSLY MATH ISN'T YOUR STRONG SUIT.

I was in Qdoba last night, getting dinner as I often do on Tuesdays and the kid behind the counter gives me a cookie with my meal.

He hands me my receipt and asks me to take a short survey for him. I look at the receipt and it says that I can go to the website to take the survey, so I say--outloud--Oh, I'll take it tomorrow on the website.

The kid says to me--'OH--it has to be completed in 72 hours'. All I can do is stare at the dumbass and I say "Yeah--tomorrow is less than 72 hours." The kid did not get it. At all. He's probably still concerned that he gave me the cookie and that I did not get the survey completed. Holy crap--do they really not teach a day is 24 hours in school anymore?

2006-09-29T08:37:00.000-06:00

WHEN IN THE HELL DID IT BECOME APPROPRIATE TO SHOW YOUR ASS WHEN EXPRESSING YOUR OPINION?

I don't get this. Yes--I understand that you have a right to express your opinion, but when did it become socially acceptable to think your opinion is the only one that matters and that you have the right to call others a bunch of effing morons if they don't agree with you. Effing moron might not be the specific statement made, but it was close. Frankly--I don't give a crap if you don't like someone, but you know--you don't need to post it all over the internet and then explain it away by "I was just having fun" or "I have the right to say what I want."

This is what I'm talking about. Yes--you have the right to say what you want--if you didn't, that would be "censorship", but for Christ's sake--don't you have the common sense and decorum to keep your g.d. mouth shut if it's gonna hurt someone's feelings and you KNOW it will.

I gotta tell you--I'm more than a little surprised at the number of people I know that will show their asses in public just for the sake of a little opinion expressing. Nobody is really all that interested. Trust me on this one. Myself--I don't give a crap about the in-fighting that goes on. Shit, if you can't get along--don't go there any more. It isn't rocket science. Y'all are a lot smarter than that and it really takes you down a few notches in my view when you do it.

The only reason shit is controversial is because YOU can't quit expressing your opinion about it. The rest of us have moved on. It WASN'T controversial to start with and the only reason it was made so is because 1 or two--ONE OR TWO people made it that way. The rest of you should have just minded your own g.d. business because you weren't interested in it to start with, but you HAD to have an opinion on it--EVEN THOUGH IT DIDN'T AFFECT YOU. You don't HAVE to have an opinion on every topic in the world. I'd just as soon you didn't because you bore me and I think you are hateful people who have nothing better to do than stir up shit.

In the meantime, I will be enjoying the fact that my favorite baseball player is in the playoffs and I hope he gets another ring because he deserves it. He doesn't feel the need to express his effing opinion every time he opens his mouth. No wonder I love him best.

2006-09-18T07:54:00.000-06:00

ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST. As you know--I have been at war with mice. I hate them and they seem compelled to move into my house at random. When I was off on surgical leave, I caught one and though I was doing a favor by letting it go (I have a live trap). After the little fucker ran over my foot and made me do the mouse dance, I swore that I would never do it again.

Actually, the swearing part came when I came downstairs one morning and saw that one of his relatives had chewed through an 8 dollar can of mixed nuts. At that point, I swore no mouse would leave my house alive ever again and that I would nail his carcass to the garage as a warning to all future mice. One of the guys I work with thought I should post little sticky notes "No mice allowed" "Mice go away". I seriously considered it.

So Saturday, I opened my pantry to feed my dogs and something REEKED in there. I was pretty sure it was dead mouse stench, so I had to look for it. But first I had to have some alchohol to up my bravery factor just a bit. Elvis was really interested in the live trap I keep set in there and finally I looked behind the trap. Well, the stupid son of a bitch mouse had gotten stuck in the entry of the live trap. The stupid bastard didn't even have the common sense or decency to let the trap throw him into the live part of the trap. 1/2 of his mouse ass was hanging out and 1/2 was in. Can you even effing believe it.

So I put my gloves on and take it to the garage to empty out the thing into the trash can. The mouse is stuck. Can't get him out and I'll be damned if "I" touch it. So I decide to leave him in the trap in the garage until he stops stinking. At that point, I will try to shake him out again or bring him to work and have the guys deal with it.

Obviously, mice are not the brightest creatures on God's earth, but Jesus Christ--you'd think number one, they would talk amongst themselves and spread the word that I am a mouse killer and number 2--how can they NOT use a live trap properly--it's not like they have to actually THINK! You don't just die 1/2 way in! whatever.

2006-09-12T10:42:00.000-06:00

TRULY A STELLAR MOMENT IN MY LIFE so you know PMS had something to do with it. I was walking my dogs in the park yesterday after work, which is my custom. I walk my dogs 365 days a year, once a day during the week, twice on weekends. Last night, I noticed a woman that I have had issues with on one other occasion. She is a dumbass who does not leash her dog in the park. There is a 10 foot sign at the entrance to the park that lists the "rules" and one is that dogs have to be on a leash. Her dog seems friendly, but the dog is huge and doesn't listen to it's idiot owner. It is probably a young dog, but my terriers do not take kindly to dogs who charge up to them and expect to play. There has to be some butt sniffing involved first.

So the big galoot of a dog comes bounding up and I'm yelling at the owner to get her dog on a leash. She's meandering around and my dogs immediately go into play position. Then the dog gets a bit agressive, so Ed takes it upon himself to start growling and barking. The woman isn't making any move to get her dog on a leash, so I start screaming at her that her dog is supposed to be on a fucking leash. She says "Un huh, not in the park" I tell her it's on the g.d. sign at the park entrance and this dumb broad says "What sign" YOU CAN'T MISS IT! IT'S 10 EFFING FEET TALL AND IN BOTH ENGLISH AND SPANISH.

This stupid broad starts telling me that my dogs are mean and that they don't wanna play and that I shouldn't be allowed to bring my dogs to the park, never effing mind that she still does not have her dog under control and is making no move to do so. Then she made the mistake of coming toward me shaking her finger and yelling that my dogs are mean and Ed took exception to this and bit her on the ass. Well, he didn't actually get her ass, which is a miracle because it was huge, he actually just got the hem of her shorts. But she went away. Of course, she had to plead her case to the teenagers on the b-ball court who had witnessed the whole thing. I'm pretty sure they didn't give a crap one way or the other.

The point is, and I do have one, I walk every day in the park. I've seen HER twice and both times, her dog has NOT been on a leash and both times I've had problems with HER. My dogs do not do that to other dogs on a leash. They are always on a leash and I am grateful that Ed is that protective since I have a crazy ex who lives in the same town and i never know when he will show his ass. Ed got an extra cookie.

2006-08-25T07:41:00.000-06:00

I AM SO EXCITED!! Tomorrow morning I will be on a plane, bound for Orlando, where I will get to see one of my best friends, Ashley. She is one of the funniest people I know and she thinks I am funny too.

This week I was cracking myself up--alot. Everything I did made me laugh, no matter how ridiculous it was.

How did I get this goofy?

Last night, my 90 year old dad was reminiscing about when I was little and all the things I did growing up--learning to ski shortly after learning to walk, riding horses, fishing, learning to shoot a rifle at 6 (I am a crack shot now--with both pistol and rifle), helping to build two houses and he made the comment-"You had a pretty good life growing up, didn't you?" I have the feeling that my older brother generated that comment. You see, he is a bitter son-of-a-bitch and I don't mean his mother is horrible (we have the same dad--different moms). He is mean and vindictive and thinks everyone but him is a dumbass. He and I evidently had "different" fathers, but I believe your life experience is what you make it. Yes, some people had horrible childhoods, but it's what you do with the experience that shapes you.

My dad said his regret was that he didn't get a high school education and I told him--Dad, that wasn't an option for you. You had to help your family and you're a pretty smart guy. I had the opportunity for an education. I got my undergrad paid for by his GI money. My graduate degree, my employer paid for and my doctorate was on me. But the opportunity presented itself. I told him that I would never have seen me at this point when I graduated from high school. At the conference, I will be recognized (along with several others) by the Asst. Secretary of Labor for my mentoring and outreach activities. People at the national OSHA office, know me by name and face. I am on a first name basis with the Regional Administrator in my region. Never would I have seen this when I was attending K-12 in the same building with less than 500 other kids.

Anyway--back to the conference--not only it is alot of fun, but I have the opportunity to network and see friends that I only see a couple of times a year. Plus one of my best friends will be there to share it with me. And will finally understand what it is I do for a living.

2006-08-22T13:25:00.000-06:00

KEEPING SECRETS

I'm good at it. I know several which might be fodder for the best kind of gossip, but I refuse to tell anyone.

Some of the secrets I know are just plain weird shit about people, but I wouldn't pass it on because they might be ridiculed and as they are my friends, I wouldn't want that to happen to them. Unless of course, it is me doing the ridiculing, in which case, they are going to have all of that they can stand.

Some of the secrets I know could be life changing/destroying, but I won't tell those either. Not even in a fit of anger. I figure people know they can trust me or they are comfortable enough with me having the information.

And some of the secrets I have are just plain fun to keep. Some people know them because it was my secret to share, but most don't and if they don't, it's just fun for me to keep them guessing.

I'm headed off to my favorite conference next week. It won't be nearly as much fun without my playmates, but I have made special arrangements so that they will not be left out. This conference was life changing for me last year and perhaps it will be again this year in ways I hadn't thought of.

2006-08-15T11:09:00.000-06:00

I am just too lazy to have a great blog I guess. It's been almost a month since my last update. I'm always bitching at others to keep their blog updated, but no one bitches at me. Speaking of bitches--I have PMS and I can feel the bitch rising inside me.

Last night I got another form from some arbitration company, concerned that my surgery was needed because of an "accident" that someone else may be financially responsible for. Now, it wouldn't have pissed me off nearly as much, but I think I have filled out the form at least 2 times. Once for sure. So, I got plenty pissed off and filled the form out in red pen, starting with THIS IS THE SECOND TIME I HAVE FILLED THIS FORM OUT--right by where it was stamped "second request".

I proceeded to fill in the rest of the form with "IT WAS A SPORTS INJURY" in every other space provided--even if it had nothing to do with the question at hand. A-holes.

Today, I was walking to the bathroom and some random thought popped into my head and pissed me off. I really hate this time of the month.

It's been about a year since I made the decision to leave a very dead relationship and while I've been a lot happier, I'm sort of at a crossroad about what to do next.

My job is precarious to say the least and personal relationships seem to have stalled. Normally with the personal stuff, I would just say eff it, but I made a promise and I think it would speak ill of my character if I said eff it. I think it's important to see it through and I think the other person involved is worth it. I just wish he would tell me he is instead of leaving me to wonder.

I believe you are led down certain paths. And what you choose to do along those paths is up to you. 5 years ago, I would never have seen this and even if I did--I'm not sure that I would have chosen to do what I have chosen.

On the bright side, my Pudge's team is in first place and I may get to see that man win another World Series before he retires.

2006-07-28T10:59:00.000-06:00

Geeeeezzz! Here it is over a month since my last entry. Yes, I am ashamed of myself. But I have a good excuse.

First there was the OSHA audit which nearly kilt me. And I get to do it all over again (maybe) in 3 years. Then there was the 4th of July weekend. Damn did I need that. 4 days of doing absolutely nothing.

Then there was the surgery on the 10th. This is the first week that I have been able to actually type without wanting to shoot myself. It's quite a painful surgery. And I'm really not supposed to use my right arm very much so that my shoulder can heal properly.

Last night at softball, Ladies' Man (this young man that thinks he all that) said to me "You're really milking this, aren't you" I told him--it would be a lot more convincing if my scars were bigger, wouldn't it. You see, they do everything arthoscopically and I have scars that are about 1/2 inch, if that. Two of them have healed up really nicely, but the one that had all the work done on it is sore and still has a major scab on it.

Getting back to the Ladies Man--some kid was eating something gooey last night and I kept asking what it was. LM finally said--it's like that stuff that edible underwear is made out of. Instead of shutting the hell up, I said--oh fruit rollups. One of the other teammates heard me and started laughing and said--you two sound like you know a lot about it. LM 'fessed up immediately. I did not.

2006-06-23T09:08:00.000-06:00

MET WITH THE SURGEON yesterday for my pre-0p appointment. He was telling me how awful it would be when I woke up from the surgery with a big linebacker football pad sized wad of gauze on my shoulder that would be connected to an automatice icing machine and in a sling, with a lidocaine pump attached for several days post surgery. And how much pain I would be in. Now this just begs the question--why in the hell would I elect to have this surgery if it's that bad?

Seriously, the only reason I am putting myself through this bullshit is so that I can play ball next summer. This summer has been a washout because I am not enjoying the game at all. It hurts every time I throw and now batting is starting to get a little irritating.

Then he tells me that I will be on an automatic motion machine for up to 6 hours a day. This machine passively moves your shoulder so that it does not freeze up. That's all my mom, the nazi, will have to hear--6 HOURS A DAY. And by gawd, she will make sure that 6 hours are done. You see, I remember piano lessons and the old 1/2 hour/day practice sessions at which she would set a timer. It's just amazing that I have grown up as normal as I am. I'll wait for you to stop laughing.

The best part was when he told me that after 3 days, I would be pulling the lidocaine drip out myself. Now, I normally don't get grossed out by things like that, but I did. Maybe because it will be ME that I am pulling it out of. ewwwwww.

I'm just about 3 weeks out and during that time, I will need to practice using my left hand for EVERYTHING. That ought to be fun. And just a warning, if you are sitting next to me in Florida at dinner--you will have to cut my meat for me. I promise I won't act too smug.

2006-06-21T10:55:00.000-06:00

TODAY IS MY FAVORITE DAY OF THE YEAR!! No, it's not because it's the solstice and I am not a witch (although I have been called something close and I have a male friend that calls my female friends The Coven--which they are flattered by, just so you know). It is because it is FIRE DRILL DAY! The day I can piss off everyone at once. I AM THE GREAT AND POWERFUL OZ!!! Oh my God, it makes me laugh every time I hit the alarm button. My job is to set off the alarm and then stand there and watch people exit the building. With a pissed off look on their face.

Oh come on people--it's 70 degrees outside, pleasant, not too hot or too cold and you get to be away from your desk for 15-20 minutes. Think of it as an extra break. But no--people like to see the worst. So, I take great personal pride in knowing I can piss off 90 people all in one fell swoop.

So, I'm having a mini snickers or two to celebrate. Well, that may be PMS related. But I'm still having them.

2006-06-19T08:01:00.000-06:00

HAVE YOU EVER HAD ONE OF THOSE WEEKENDS that you'd like to replay-like "Groundhog Day"?

I had one of those this weekend. All except for the parts that I wanted to slap people at the following places : Target, Arby's and Sonic. I blame it completely on PMS.

I had a really fun day with a friend on Saturday, downtown Denver, lunch, shopping and the theatre.

Sunday, just general stuff, but I turned a double play unassisted. It's the first time EVER in my softball career. I have assisted in plenty and have been really really close a few dozen times, but yesterday--I got one. Caught a fly ball and threw the runner on first out. With a gimpy shoulder to boot. YES!

I went over to my hair stylist's house to get my hair done after the game. She had to cancel my appt today and so it worked out. She has a 7 year old who is a really cool kid. I haven't spent much time with him, but I like him because he is creative, intellingent and fun. I was getting ready to go home after I was done and he leaned over and kissed my shoulder. I was really surprised and said "Did you do that to make my shoulder better?" He said No I actually did it because I like you.

That made my entire year.

2006-06-16T08:24:00.000-06:00

WELL CRAP.

It's official. I will be having shoulder surgery, thus ending my softball season. I like my doctor. Poor guy, he's gonna learn an awful lot about me the next 4 months. He learned last night that I ask embarassing questions. I asked him how to shave my armpit. Because I am NOT going to be subjected to one hairy armpit. He started laughing and put his head down. But he did come up with a way I could do it.

At least I wasn't the guy with the two broken arms that were casted from wrist to armpit. Dr. Z had to tell HIM how to wipe his ass.

2006-06-12T07:37:00.000-06:00

Since last week's events, I haven't really felt like writing anything. Even though my friend's death was expected, the shock was no less when it was finally over. But I know Sarah would have wanted us to laugh about something. It's just how she was. So today's entry will be a variety of things I have found funny recently.

I drive a rural "highway" on my way to softball every Sunday. They have just finished resurfacing said highway. Repainted the lines and everything. Get this. There was some kind of squished gunky (road kill) in the middle of the road and instead of scraping it up, they rolled it flat and painted right over it. So here is this dead whatever, with a double yellow line painted right over it. Don't ask me why I thought it was funny--I just do.

Last night at the softball game--I volunteered to catch for an inning because all of us hate to do it. Problem is--it really hurts me to throw a ball. I can bat without much pain, but throwing about makes me want to puke. Anyway, I'm all crouched down behind the plate and catch the first ball and hand it to the umpire to throw back to the pitcher. He didn't mind and I even explained why it was necessary. He was very nice about it. I got back to the dug out and the guys were giving me a bad time about it. They asked me if I had ever seen Major League II with the catcher who couldn't throw the ball back to the pitcher. I had and I called them a bunch of a-holes. Laughing of course.

There was a pop fly last night that our shortstop jumped about 4 feet in the air to catch and the guy on second had taken off. He turned around to go back and I was already at second. The SS fired that ball back to me and I caught it as I was sliding into the base (The field was wet from a huge rainstorm!) The runner was out and that was the 3rd out. As we were going back into the dugout, one of the young kids on the team said "Way to get a toe on the base!" I just laughed because it was one of those Lucky plays and as I always say--I'd rather be lucky than good.

I put one to right field last night and one of the young kids was coaching first and he said--when did you become an opposite field hitter? I told him since about halfway through the season last year. I actually can place a ball now. They don't expect girls in co-ed to hit opposite field so it is a guaranteed base hit for me. I don't even need an outside pitch anymore. We won 15-0.

2006-06-07T07:59:00.000-06:00

FOR SARAH (June 4, 1961-June 7, 2006)

Your journey has ended on earth.

We will miss you terribly.

We love you more.

2006-05-31T06:49:00.000-06:00

LIFE IS WAY TOO SHORT

to be miserable. My friend, Sarah, is dying of cancer. She is a year younger than I am. Her death will be devastating to a lot of my friends as well. She fought a good fight, but she's losing and that is perhaps the worst thing of all. When I saw her in September, I was in my own personal version of hell. She had just been diagnosed and I thought for sure I would see her in March in Mississippi or even December when I went down to Arizona for Christmas. I couldn't find 2 hours at Christmas to go and visit her and by March, she wasn't doing very well. Now she is dying and I won't see her on this earth again. All I can do is pray her passing is peaceful and relatively pain free. I pray that she is lucid and can remember all the love she spread and all the people who love her back. Whenever you talked to her and you told her "I love you" she would always reply, I love you more.

That will be my honor to her. To live each day like it was my last and whenever anyone tells me they love me, I will respond--I love you more. It's not a competitive thing, but this whole thing has made me realize that you cannot waste one more day being in a situation that you can change. You have to be with the people you love more than anything and who love you back. If you don't like something--CHANGE IT! God gives you free will and expects you to use it to live the life He intended for you. Happiness is your legacy to your children. They learn from you and if they see you miserable, they will think it is okay to live that way. Life is one learning experience after another and according to my 90 year old Dad--sometimes those life lessons really suck. Suck or not--they do make you a better person and you take those lessons into other situations.

So, my challenge to you is to honor my friend Sarah. Tell someone that you love them, tell someone you are happy you met them and that they make your life better, do something for someone who always does for others or let them do something for you. Love every minute you've got on this earth, you never know when it will end.

Godspeed Sarah--save me a seat when I get there.

2006-05-23T18:30:00.000-06:00

I AM THE BIGGEST DUMBASS EVER IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD

I gotta admit, for most of my life, I have been spoiled. And by that I mean, I've never had to mow my own yard. Well, when I split from the ex-pita, that became one of my jobs, along with everything else.

I let my mom talk me into buying a manual mower "because I was in such good shape and all", but I didn't realize that you had to work really really hard to use the effing thing. So, as by my previous post, I bought a power mower.

Dragged it into the back yard last night and tried to start it. Wouldn't start. Went back to the garage to read the directions. Walked back to the back yard. Tried to start it again. Wouldn't start. Went back to the garage. Read some more directions. Back to the back yard. Couldn't start it again. Went back to the garage and took the gd directions with me. Finally got it started and almost cut the grass down to the dirt. Adjusted the height. Started mower again. Made approximately 4 passes. Lawn mower jams. Can't get it started again. Take bag off and empty it and notice that there is all kinds of grass up in the blades. Decide the grass is too wet and will try again the next day.

So today, the grass is a little drier and I drag the thing to the back yard again. This time, it only dies about 5 times and I get most of the grass cut. It's not pretty, but it's done and I weed whacked the edges.

The next time I get married, it's going in the vows. "I promise to love, honor and mow the lawn on a regular basis". In return, I will promise to pack his lunch (I got a great compliment on the lunches I bring to work every day), make snickerdoodles occasionally and iron a shirt for him once in awhile just to be nice. I think it's fair. Don't you?

2006-05-22T07:52:00.000-06:00

THIS IS HOW EXCITING MY WEEKENDS ARE

First-on Friday night, I got out my trusty manual mower and mowed my front lawn. I decided that my mother is crazy and that I really should have just spent the money on a damn power mower, I don't care how small my yard is. Of course, the shoulder problems do have something to do with this bitchiness about the mower.

While I was dragging the damn thing out of the garage--I noticed there was a gd mouse in the mouse trap in the garage. Remember the live trap that I used with that other little effer? Only this one didn't look so live. I got all grossed out at the thought of having to drag the stupid thing to work to have the guys dump the carcass out, but went out and mowed my lawn. I decided that I could not possibly mow the back because it is just too hard and made the decision to go buy a power mower the next day.

So Saturday, I was supposed to do a 5K, but with all the 14 hour days I worked, I just couldn't bring myself to it. Instead, I got a full body massage and my neck and back haven't felt this good in years.

Saturday night--I was at Home Depot buying a lawn mower. Thank God for Ernest who put the thing together for me and Steve loaded it into my car. The only problem was--once I got home--I had to wrestle the damn thing out of my car. I have 2 lovely gashes on my knee. Saturday night at the Home Depot--yep--I live an exciting life as a single person.

My dad called and he asked if he could do anything for me. I said that he could come get the dead mouse out of the trap. He provided all sorts of reasonable advice about how I could do it and I told him that it was a trap that had to be opened and the mouse would drop out of it and that was my problem--I DIDN'T WANT TO TOUCH THE STUPID THING!! He said--well, I guess we've all got our issues.

Sunday, I decided that I had to be brave and get the mouse thrown away so that the trap could be reset. I put on gloves and opened the garage door in case he was still alive and got the trap open and this thing had been dead so long that he was basically mummified. Which grossed me out even more. But he fell right out into the trash can, where I immediately covered him up with newspapers and did the gross out dance.

Yes, I am ridiculous, but I hate mice and all their related ilk. So I was brave and disposed of him and reset the trap. Then I washed my hands and did something that made me happy--I baked cookies for my friend, the Marine. And played softball.

All in all, it was a good weekend.

2006-05-15T13:18:00.000-06:00

A POST SCRIPT ABOUT EDNA'S HOUSE OF PSYCHICS AND A NEWFOUND TALENT

I have received several emails about my last post about fake accent Sara. People. It was simply a research thing. I really didn't give a crap about what she had to say. Really. As soon as I heard the fake accent--don't you think that I pretty much assumed everything about her was fake? Except for the pendulous boobs hanging to her waist. Those were real. Research. That's all. Just wanted to see what a $10 reading bought. Absolutely nothing but a laugh.

NOW for my newfound talent. I got a Text Message yesterday that several people from my softball team were meeting at a bar before the game (generally not a good thing) and if I could join them, that would be good. So I went and had a beer. One of the people had to leave and take her husband his clothes to change into and wanted me to put her part on her credit card. I really didn't feel comfortable, but said I would. I signed her slip and one of the guys said, let me see that. He looked at the card and at my signature of her name and said--THIS IS YOUR CARD! I said no it isn't--I am not XXXXXXXXXX. He said again--this is your card!!! I told him no, it wasn't. He looked for a third time and said--that's almost perfect. It was pretty good. I do have to admit.

Had a pretty good game--3 for 3 and some nice fielding. It's still gonna be a long season if my shoulder doesn't get better soon.

2006-05-12T10:59:00.000-06:00

EDNA'S HOUSE OF PSYCHICS, educational institution, est. 1988

Now there probably isn't such a place, but in a discussion I had with some friends (the Coven) this week, we are all pretty sure that some psychics purchase a script from the above-referenced establishment.

I was in Chicago this week and was out walking on Michigan Avenue. There was a huge sign that said "Psychic Readings--$10". Okay--I gotta admit, I was up for some entertainment. It was muggy and I was sweating and I needed a laugh. Went in and rang the bell. This woman, with boobs that hung to her belly button and no bra, answered. She had bleach blonde hair and the WORST fake accent I have ever effing heard in my life. I almost couldn't go through with it on that alone.

So she has me shuffle the Tarot cards and pick a pile and think of 2 questions "One of which I will reveal to her and one I will keep secret". Okay, whatever.

So she asks me the question I want to reveal and I tell her. She starts with the reading. That I will get what I want, but there is a blockage--bad luck, if you will. But it is all spiritual and for $250, she will determine what the blockage is and clear it away from me. At this point, I am almost on the floor laughing--OUTLOUD. Any one who knows me knows EXACTLY what the hell is 'BLOCKING' me and believe me--it ain't spiritual. But it gets better. This $250 is for "materials" and she will do this after her business hours. 2 questions--what the hell materials costs $250? I thought that you could buy those religious candles at the Dollar store and incense, well, it can't possibly be more than a couple bucks. And----why does she have to do it after work hours? It wasn't like there was anyone else beating down fake accent Sara's door.

I brought this up to my friends and one suggested that she had to go to a cemetery to "unblock" my spiritual thing. I said, well, if that's what it is, can I pick the cemetery? Because I'd really like her to go to the one Harry Carey is buried in and clear whateverthehell is blocking the Cubs this year. They thought it would probably cost extra.

Another friend suggested a Fleet enema kit which could be purchased at Walgreens' for 10 bucks and my blockage could be cleared. She said to go ahead and put the $250 in the mail to her.

Anyway--I got a pretty good laugh and so did my friends--at my expense of course. Y'all are just plainassed lucky that I am willing to tell these stories on myself.

PS--an update on my Dad. He is pisst because his doc told him he could be playing golf 3 weeks after he broke his hip. Last night, he told me it had been 3 weeks and he wasn't playing golf yet.

PSS-softball season is in full swing. We were behind 12-0 last night and came back in the last inning to only one behind. 20-19. Didn't win, but had fun trying. I was batting in my favorite spot--lead off and went 3-4.

2006-05-01T08:58:00.000-06:00

FINALLY! IT'S HERRREEEEE!

What could bring me to this level of enthusiasm on a Monday? Well--softball season has finally started! It's been a long 6 months. I haven't touched a softball since October 30, 2005, possibly the most sucky game I have ever played in. It was raining and then snowing and the wind was blowing and I had enough clothes on that I looked like the Michelin man. The only good thing about that day was that the Broncos handed the Eagles their asses on a platter and I had a particularly interesting bet with someone. But that's another story.

Anyway--I went to the batting cage and took some cuts. Wasn't ugly like I thought it would be, but I AM feeling it this morning. In my back and rib cage. Cannot figure out for the life of me why my rib cage hurts like a mother after the first batting practice of the season, but it does. Hate it.

Walked over to the field and stepped into warm up. The first ball I threw about put me on my knees and I believe I used the "eff" word. I hate this shoulder thing I've got going. Especially when they, and by they, I mean the doctors who have a lot more education than I do, can't figure out why it hurts. "Bursitis" is what they say, with a touch of arthritis and "biceps tendonitis". Crap, I don't do anything that warrants all that. Yes, I work out 5 days /week in one form or another (soon to be 6), but come on--this is ridiculous. And the Doc says "It's not old age". Whatever-just fix it. Unfortunately, I can only have 2 more cortisone shots this year (I'm saving em--just in case). There is no rotator cuff tear, but there may be bone chips causing this "impingement". That is just a 5 dollar word for "This hurts like hell". In that case--surgery to clean it up. I told the doc--that's really gonna eff up my softball season and he said "You ain't kidding".

I digress. I went 3 for 3 last night, had a fielding play at 2nd--got the out despite my shoulder pain and we won, 15-0. I hope that is a precurser to our season. Not the excrutiating shoulder pain--the win.

I took the max dose of advil and slept with my ice pack. I hope THAT isn't a precurser either.

2006-04-24T13:05:00.000-06:00

MY 90 YEAR OLD DAD fell off a ladder this weekend and broke his hip. Only to hear HIM tell the story, the branch the ladder was leaning against broke, causing both HIM and the ladder to fall. So technically, he did NOT fall off the ladder. Did I mention that about 10 years ago, my mom told him that he was not allowed on ladders any more? Yet, he still has that ladder. Well, not any more. My sister confiscated it on Saturday, the day of the alleged accident. He told my mom that he was going out to rake leaves. His version of raking leaves involves climbing a ladder and poking the rake up in the tree that sheds said leaves and knocking a bunch more loose. I have myownself witnessed this.

Now this is the kicker. I asked him if the ambulance took him to the hospital and he said, No, your mom drove me. I asked him how the hell he got into the car with a broken hip? He said the 2 neighbors helped him. I asked, well, didn't that hurt a lot? He said, No, I didn't know I was broke then.

I asked him--so did the pain get a lot worse when you found out you were broke? He said, well, yes, it hurt a bit more.

My old man is tough. No wonder I don't bitch until I get miserable. It's genetic. He's only broken one other thing in his 90 years. His foot--when he was skiing and he had to drive a VW bug (standard tranny) back to Denver from A-basin. That's tough. I've had to do that before. Not a 1958 Bug (or whatever year it was--I just know it was pre-me).

He had surgery yesterday and he said he was doing fine. I got the story about how he was not to blame in this mess--rather the tree branch that broke. Oh, and he was starving because he hadn't gotten anything good to eat. My sister told me about the lovely chicken broth that he had in front of him and he said it was the best he'd ever eaten. I called bs on him. But I'm glad he is doing well. The doc said he should be playing golf in 3 weeks. The doc also said that he is in excellent shape for a 90 year old. I guess it does pay to get off the couch every once in awhile.

Good thing I'm just like him, in both temperment (stubborn) and athletic ability. Oh and I can blame inanimate objects for causing me harm--just like him. But I think I will actually give up ladder climbing before my 80th birthday. Don't want to press my luck.

UPDATE: I was working a safety conference this morning and the OSHA booth was right next to mine. They have a "quick facts" card on portable ladder safety. I am soooo sending it to my Dad.

2006-04-18T07:55:00.000-06:00

IF IT WERE POSSIBLE, I WOULD KICK MY OWN ASS somedays. I'm just having a moment here and would like to kick my own ass. Oh, I know there are plenty of people who would be more than happy to do it for me, but frankly, I get my ass kicked by strangers every day (well, my boss) and I'm kind of sick of it. My boss is friggin' clueless about my worth to this company and I'm tired of it.

I'm not in a bad mood or anything, but I'm feeling unappreciated and deadlocked. Not necessarily in my personal life.

But in order to lighten this up--the latest in my dating life. I had been emailing back and forth with this guy and then I got busy. Really busy. On vacation, had my parent's here, on a business trip and trying to plan a conference. Lots of things on my plate. I finally got some time this week. He sent me this email that said "Hey, what's going on! You kind of disappeared" I replied, "I'm really sorry--I have just been really busy. Will you be around this week? Again, I'm really sorry, I'm usually not this bad (and I explained all that had been going on)" I got back this response "I'm no longer interested. I deserve more consideration"

Well, excuse the phuk out of me. Apparently, my role in his life would be to give him my undivided attention at all times and screw the fact that I have a busy professional life. There are people that I would give my undivided attention to at all costs. Someone I have never met/spent any time with--not so much. NEXT!

2006-04-17T15:11:00.000-06:00

DISCLAIMER:

"I agree and acknowledge that I am undertaking participation in VPPPA events and activities as my own free and intentional act, and I am fully aware that possible physical injury might occur to me as a result of my participation in these events."

This was sent to me by one of my professional colleagues. He also sent me the following:

"Umm, we're a safety excellence organization. It amuses me that National feels the need to include this. Now, if "drunken sack races" was a scheduled event, I'd see the reason for the disclaimer. I'd also be the first to sign up"

Now frankly I agree with him. We're supposed to be safety professionals and you'd hardly think we needed reminded about this shit. Except that safety professionals generally cut loose a whole lot more than most folks and are generally "unsafe" (see blog about I AM A SAFETY PROFESSIONAL, then ask me about my scars) I found out the real reason for this disclaimer was that a couple of people got "rolled" in New Orleans. Well, if you're effing stupid enough to be out in a bad area by yourself--well, I'm just sayin.

Now when we had our conference in Dallas, we did have a mechanical bull injury--a couple of them actually. Those people shall remain nameless (Bob and Kevin--oh come on--you knew I was gonna tell you who they were) and the injuries were fairly minor, but mechanical bull riding whilst drunk could be one of those activities, much like drunken sack racing, that should have a disclaimer. Of course, being safety professionals, we don't think those disclaimers apply to us--only the not-so-experienced safety person. And they probably have enough sense to steer far away (no pun intended)

2006-04-06T10:31:00.000-06:00

SOMEONE WAS READING ONE OF THOSE INTERNET JOKES ABOUT COLORADO a while back and one of the things was about the seasons--before winter, winter, just after winter and road construction, or something like that. Today's rant is about "Road Construction". It sucks and I hate it. I work off a major interstate, but have to take backroads to get to work--unless I want to go 20 miles out of my way to get ON the interstate. If one way is effed up by construction, then I can go another way--7 miles longer, but I can still get to work in about 30 minutes.

Well--BOTH ways are effed up by construction. The shorter of the two has a light timing problem. They reconfigured the effin' lights which backs traffic up about 4 miles. The other way they are installing sewer pipes and one way is completely closed so I don't even have THAT choice in the afternoon. I'd like to know who plans this shit. Because they obviously have no grasp of blocking off both ends of the same road at the same time. Dumbasses. It gives me a headache. And we are just starting "Road Construction" season. bah.

2006-04-04T15:13:00.000-06:00

SOMETIMES GOOD THINGS HAPPEN TO PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY DESERVE some happiness in their lives.

It's not my story to tell, but I have certainly felt joy from it. Sometimes you just have to feel good for someone else. I hope things continue to go well for this person. I hope they never doubt the way I feel about them. In case they don't remember--you are my favorite, that hasn't changed. We've gotten through some pretty tough things over the past 6 months. That should tell you that I'm loyal. You're my favorite and you don't have to worry about my feelings for you. When you are ready to hear more, you know my number.

2006-04-03T13:43:00.000-06:00

A FEW MORE WORDS REGARDING OPENING DAY

I love it, but I don't love it in person. A bunch of dumbasses usually attend Opening Day (and by 'dumbass', I mean the people who don't actually WATCH baseball on a regular basis, but think it's 'cool' to go to Opening Day and say they went.

Me? I'm tivo'ing the Detroit Tigers v. Kansas City and I hope Dmitri Young hits 3 home runs like he did last year and I hope Pudge drills someone at second and hits 4 RBIs. Yep, I love Opening Day.

Now some words of advice: when you go to the ball game, please do not get up and down 400 times. There are people who actually WATCH the game and you will annoy them with your excessive movement.

There are certain areas of the ball park that get a lot of foul balls (off 1st and 3rd base especially). You better be watching or you might take a ball off your head, face etc. It will be extremely funny to those of us who know to watch.

Beer makes you pee. See request #1.

Never eat anything with the word "extreme" in the title. It only leads to "extreme" gastro-intestinal issues. I speak from experience. I'm just saying.

If a ball hits a foul pole in the outfield, it is a home run.

The infield fly rule is complicated. It was created to do away with easy outs. Here it is: If there are runners on base (and some will say that the bases have to be loaded) and there are less than 2 outs and the infielder can catch the fly ball with ordinary effort, the batter will be out. The runners may advance at their own risk (and I have actually scored a run like this because the short stop didn't know the rule)

This should provide you with some basic knowledge of the game. I will have commentary as the season progresses.

2006-04-02T09:06:00.000-06:00

AN OPENING DAY PRAYER

Dear God,

We give thanks that another baseball season is upon us and we pray that opening day across the board has sunny weather and no rain outs and no hour long lines for beer (psffft--sure, that one's gonna happen). We pray that since the Boston Red Sox and the Chicago White Sox have each won a world series recently, that it is the Chicago Cubs turn now.

I ask you to smile down on Pudge Rodriguez and give him the best season ever and that his batting average will be .350 this year and that he is not pestered by those 15 years in the majors, ie hip flexor injury, broken hand bones etc. I'd like to see him win one more World Series ring before he retires.

I pray that Barry Bonds is busted for steroids use so that he doesn't touch Hank Aaron's home run total. Barry is such a prima donna, he doesn't deserve the recognition.

I pray that Carlos Pena finds a team to play on since the Tigers released him last week. and I also pray that Jim Leyland has a successful year with the 'cats so that they are contenders for a championship. I pray that Mario and Rod, FSNDetroit, have lost their filters again so that they will keep me howling with some of the stuff that they come up with.

I pray that all players play without getting hurt this year. I pray for a lot of suicide squeeze plays that work (but only for my teams) and for the Yankees to be humiliated this year with all their high dollar players.

I pray that the Colorado Rockies do not suck too badly this year, although because they do suck, it makes it easy to get tickets.

Lastly, as a personal favor to me, God, I pray that you make it so that the Yankees never win another world series. I only root for 2 teams, the Tigers and any team that beats the Yankees.

Amen.

2006-03-30T06:57:00.000-07:00

DID YOU EVER HAVE ONE OF THOSE DAYS where you wake up and want to rip someone's head off? Well, that's me today. I have the feeling it's hormonally based, as much as I don't like blaming my moods on that. I have a headache and a bunch of snot in my throat and I just don't like it. I probably will be laying low most of the day or some innocent person is gonna get the crap beat out of them verbally. Good thing I'm playing volleyball tonight. I can take out whatever is bugging me on the white ball.

Speaking of people with no class (stay with me here--when my moods are on the roller coaster, my mind takes nearly as many switchbacks and turns), I went to the theater on Saturday afternoon--the matinee. My friend and I saw Mamma Mia. We had each seen in before, but it was a really fun show, so I got tickets when it came back. My friend and I discussed what we were wearing and we both decided to wear jeans. Crap, it WAS a matinee and the show is kind of casual anyway.

So we were standing there waiting to go in to the theater and this little girl, probably 10-11 years old, who had a DRESS on, made a comment to either her mom or grandma about those girls wearing jeans and SHE WAS LOOKING RIGHT AT MY FRIEND AND I! The comment was made with disdain (even for an 11 year old) and THEN her older female relative turned around and gave us the same look! My friend couldn't believe it! I said that we had 2 choices--either tell the little girl to mind her own damn business and that her purse didn't match her outfit OR pull her hair real hard so that she knew we meant business.

2006-03-28T17:55:00.000-07:00

AGAINST MY BETTER JUDGEMENT, I allowed a friend of mine to sign me up on 'Loser.com' (not really--just don't want to say what the name of it is), an internet dating site. She begged and pleaded and cajoled me into it because she doesn't want to be the only one suffering through it. I was doing fine on my own and besides, baseball season is about to start and I don't really want to be dating anyone during baseball season. It's too hard to explain why you want to spend 90 hours a week watching games on MLB extra innings.

ANYWAY, I let her do up a profile for me and the next thing I know, I have potential dates in my email box. I look to see what my choices would be and CAN YOU EFFING BELIEVE THIS--my ex-PITA was one of them. After I finished guffawing and choking on my coffee, I promptly deleted the email. Next thing I know, there is an email from "someone who is interested in you". I must say, curiousity got the better of me and I opened it. I hope y'all are sitting down. IT WAS MY EX-PITA. I'll wait until you quit laughing.

Of course, he knew it was me by my profile. My friends do know me well and I do live in a small town. He proceeded to call me a chicken for not putting my picture on the site (it hadn't loaded yet) and that I must be bored to be doing this and if I wanted to go dancing why didn't I just say so and if I ever came to my senses I should just call my former boyfriend and we could start going out again. DID HE MISS THE PART WHEN I TOLD HIM I HATED HIM AND NEVER WANTED TO SEE HIM AGAIN? yes, he must have.

So I call my friend and here is our conversation:

"Hey girl. It's ballz"
"Hey sistah, what's up"
"I just wanted to tell you how much I hated you"
"WHY"
I proceeded to tell her what had happened and after she stopped laughing, she said, "I am SOO SORRY! You want me to phuk with him?" Oh hell yes. Right after I made her promise to delete my profile. Which by the way she has done. Besides, there is someone who is first in line, should I ever choose to be in a relationship again and it's someone who deserves to be loved and respected and not be put through hell in a relationship.

In the meantime, however, I will continue to report on horrible instances such as this because I know y'all think it's absolutely hysterical that I be put through this. By the way, before my pal deleted my profile, I blocked the ex-PITA so that he can't ever email me again. Trust me--that was only Fate having a little laugh at my expense and giving me the opportunity to be the bigger person. I'm glad Fate had a laugh. I actually did too, once I took a bleach shower and got all the ex-pita funk off me.

2006-03-21T07:04:00.000-07:00

I KNOW Y'ALL ARE GONNA BE SOME JEALOUS BITCHES. just look at my waffle belt buckle. That sumbitch could be used as a weapon. I think it weighs about 10 pounds--but oh MAH GAWD--WHO ELSE HAS ONE!? I am tickled by the thought of someone sitting around thinking 'Now what would be a great idea for a pewter belt buckle? I KNOW! A WAFFLE--WITH BUTTER PATS!" BWAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAA! I'm sorry, but this is funny. My friends say I'm too easy to buy for. I also got a shirt that says "Your boyfriend wants me" It is the companion piece to the "Hold my beer while I kiss your boyfriend" shirt.

This weekend, the cuss button was on. I am having to really concentrate and not say eff and bitch and all the other words that I said all weekend. But let me tell you--I came home feeling refreshed and ready to get done what needs to get done in the next 3 months. Hope y'all can keep up.

2006-03-15T07:39:00.000-07:00

I'M OUTTIE!

That's right, I'm packing up my snark and taking it on the road to Jackson, MS along with a crapload of my best friends. I'll spend the weekend, getting my snark on with the people who mean the most to me and then I'll come home and sleep for a week.

And it is not a moment too soon. If I don't get a break from work, I will be tempted to cut someone's nuts off and hand them to him. And yes, I'm speaking of a real person in my world.

My dogs are headed to the "Manor" where they will be spoiled royally by people who love them as much as I do. And I will be spending time with the people who care most about me.

See ya and by that I mean--next week.

2006-03-13T07:01:00.000-07:00

I AM A HUGE FAN OF TRAIN WRECK TV.

And yesterday's marathon of "Flavor of Love" provided me many hours of laughs. See, it was cold and snowing and I got up extra early and cleaned house, so rather than be constructive, I plopped my ass down on the couch at noon and started watched the aforementioned train wreck. What a hoot! That Flava Flav is a strange little man and I'm pretty sure I wouldn't want to be mackin' on him--ever, if you know what I mean.

But he had 2o girls hanging all over him and this one broad--Red Oyster--was a world class snitch. He kept saying how he didn't like rats in his house but that she was just looking out for his best interests. First of all--she was looking out for her best interests and second of all--there ain't no bigger rat than a snitch.

Then he has Pumkin--the token white girl. Who fought a lot with "New York", the girl who LOVEDDDDD Flav. OMG--I was getting to the point that if she didn't shut the hell up, I was gonna slap her. I couldn't believe her! My favorite scene was when she and the other "finalist", Hoopz were standing there at the end in the same damn dress--crap, I hate it when some skank ends up in the same dress as me. Anyway--she made it a point to tell Hoopz that she and Flav (the male skank of the show) got "intimate". Swear to God, this is the word she used. Hoopz was all over that one and said something about if New York had to spread her legs blah blah blah and New York came back with "We didn't F***, we made music!" BWHAHAHHAHHAHHAHAHA!!! Holy crap, I was lucky I didn't fall off my couch and hurt myself.

I really have no point to this, except to say that shows like this can be extremely entertaining when you hate all the characters involved and you really don't give a rat's behind what happens to any of them. Especially when your other option is to just take a nap, which I found time to do as well.

2006-03-08T09:22:00.000-07:00

IT MUST BE SOMETHING IN THE DAMN AIR.

I just went to our purchaser and asked her to buy some fine point sharpies. I don't like the fat ones. I DO like medium point ball point pens though--but only the blue, clear bic pens. I'm really fussy about that. I got my own box when I first got here and I still have about 1/2 of them. I am the only one who uses them here. Everyone else likes those stupid gel pens that smear everywhere.

I digress. I asked her for the fine point sharpies and she took the fat point one I had out of my hand, looked at me and said "Sons of bitches". BWHAHAHHAHAHHAHAA! I effin' know how she feels. I said the same thing about something yesterday and I believe I cussed myownself out this morning over a mistake that I made.

Everyone on my message board is crabby as well, over a lot of stuff. Mostly twits and trolls which have a tendency to get on your last nerve any way.

I really got a kick out of one of my friends telling a "nose picking little kid" to "sit down you little shit". I honest to Gawd want to grow up to be Martha Jean. That woman makes me laugh like no other.

We were sharing our most embarassing stories yesterday and I of course relayed the dirty text message story that was intercepted by a DAD. It doesn't matter that both parties are over 40. It was still embarassing. One of my other friends posted that she was accidentally effed by a garden gnome. Only she used the real eff word and the story had me howling. Seems she fell off her porch directly onto the pointy hat of her garden gnome. I almost wet myself. That's how you know who your real friends are--they will tell on themselves for YOUR entertainment.

2006-03-04T12:06:00.000-07:00

WAFFLE WORTHY

This is a corellary to the POP TART theory. If you are a guy, you definitely want to be waffle worthy in my world. Waffles have a special place in my life. They have become a huge inside joke and the general meaning is if I invoke waffle status (As in--MADAM, WE MUST ALL HAVE WAFFLES FORTHWITH-from the Ladykillers) you know that means something is beyond great. My friends (otherwise known as "The Coven"--deemed so by one of my off and on favorite men) have designated 2 men in my world as "waffle worthy". I didn't even get to do it. But I concur with the designation. I'm not even talking the suckass Eggo variety either. I'm talking about me getting out my very own waffle iron and making waffles from scratch type waffles. That's a hell of a man in my opinion--that I would be willing to go to that much trouble for.

One of these waffle worthy guys was informed of his status and his damn ego got so big, I think I'm gonna have to put him on Eggo status until his opinion of himself improves.

UPDATE ON THE DATING SCENE:

I've been seeing "Cheesecake Factory Guy" for awhile and he has now managed to irritate the crap out of me for no apparent reason. He seemed nice and he was easy to talk to, but there was absolutely NO chemistry. One of the main issues I had with him is that he did not like baseball, nor did he like any other sport. There's gotta be something effing wrong with you if you don't like sports. Well, maybe I should say--I dated a guy once who hated sports and there was already a girl in the relationship--me. I knew that nothing serious was going to develop with CFG simply because he told me that he would not sit down and watch a baseball game. We all know what I think of that. A couple of weeks ago, we went out to dinner and I ordered a beer. I swear to God, he almost sprained his ass, his sphincter snapped tight so fast. He then made the statement "Well, I don't drink, but I guess I don't mind if you do." What the phuk? I didn't realize he was my MOTHER, who wouldn't have said that in a million years. She would have said--have 2--you had a rough week.

Anyway--CFG made another inane remark in an email about 2 days ago, which really kind of sealed the irritation factor thing for me. One of the ladies I eat lunch with asked me why he was so irritating. The only thing I could think of was this:

"He's kind of like the scab on my lip (from the dog bite). It almost gets healed up and then I knock it off and it's really annoying. Then it happens again and you wonder if the sumbitch is ever gonna heal up and quit irritating the crap out of you. By the time the phuker is gone, you're awfully glad it is, because it won't irritate you any more."

She knew exactly what I was talking about. He is neither Pop tart NOR Waffle worthy.

2006-03-03T07:29:00.000-07:00

THE BEST PHONE MESSAGE I HAVE EVER GOTTEN is as follows:

"I AM HAVING A PERSONAL CRISIS HERE AND YOU ARE OFF IN (fill in state name here, intentionally deleted to protect the parties involved) ON A DAMN BOOTY CALL."

I almost wet myself when I got that message, I wish I would have thought to save the stupid thing just to replay when I needed a good laugh.

I myself have left the following message 'GET OFF THAT MAN! I NEED TO TALK TO YOU SO JUST STOP WHAT YOU'RE DOING AND PICK UP THE PHONE!"

I have also received 'WAS IT WORTH IT?'

The reason I am yelling on these messages is because, in fact, the people leaving them WERE YELLING.

This is why I love my friends so much. They get right to the point. They don't eff around with the general small talk. They just get to the point. Seems like a good way to communicate. That way there is no mistake in your intention. Know what I mean?

2006-03-01T10:37:00.000-07:00

THERE ARE SEVERAL UM CORRECTIONAL FACILITIES that I have to drive by occasionally. One is down the street from where I work (a county jail) and one is in the town I live in (also a county jail). On the interstates near these facilities, there are GINORMOUS signs that read "Correctional Facility--do not pick up hitchhikers".

Well, doesn't that just go without saying?