Mute Monday - Greatness

Well %$#^&@!!*()#&{:%&!

Created by OnePlusYou - Free Online Dating
This is 171% MORE than other websites who took this test.

That's better. I took this yesterday and it said there was 0% cussing on my site.
I just knew that wasn't right! This is much more like it.

Food Is Not A Bad Thing

Have you ever stood by and watched someone die and not done a damn thing to stop it?

I have. It makes you feel like shit. I won't do that again.

A bloggy friend is having some food issues. Not wanting to eat, enjoying that floaty feeling you get when you've gone a few days without food. I know that feeling. I enjoyed it for a while when I was in high school. I got down to 78 pounds at 5'2" tall. In my case it wasn't a plan to try to not eat and lose weight. I just didn't really think about food in the midst of my depression. Eating was not a priority. I got past it, but some people don't.

Let me tell you about Mary.

Mary lived 2 houses up from me, in a house her father inherited from his parents. Mary was a mother of two adult children, divorced from an abusive husband. She cut hair for a living, but was really an artist. She enjoyed creating art in many ways - painting, mixed-media sculptures, crafts, etc. She was a talented, funny woman.

Mary starved to death two years ago while our whole neighborhood looked on.

When we first moved in, Mary was a healthy, vibrant woman. Pretty, active, gregarious, and physically healthy. Thin, but not too thin. Healthy. That changed. About a year and a half before her death, Mary started getting thinner. She got too thin very quickly. Her face looked like a skull with skin hanging off. You could see her hip bones jutting through her pants. Her formerly beautiful skin took on an ashy color. She looked like hell.

We talked about it in the neighborhood. We all knew Mary as a neighbor, but not as a real friend. None of us felt close enough to her to ask what was going on. We would say "Hi Mary, how are you feeling?" or "Are you okay? Is there anything you need?" hoping she would tell us what was going on and take us up on our offers to help. She was always bright and cheery and would tell us that everything was fine, no she didn't need anything. In fact, she took care of an elderly neighbor, taking her shopping and picking up her prescriptions.

She stopped going to work. We weren't sure what was up with that, but didn't want to pry. And she got even thinner. We got more bold about her weight loss, various neighbors telling her that she didn't really look well and that we were concerned about her. Asking if she had seen her doctor recently and discussed how thin she was. A couple of us started buying Ensure and putting it on her porch, anonymously. We figured she was sick, cancer maybe, and just didn't want to tell us. We were concerned that since she wasn't working she couldn't afford much and we thought the Ensure would maybe help her gain some weight back.

We invited Mary to dinner and backyard barbecues. She always declined with a smile. And she got so thin that she was frightening to look at. Although she was only 52, she looked like she was in her eighties. It was heart-breaking.

One summer day I was outside with my baby and my son when Mary's daughter and son-in-law pulled into her driveway. I had lived here for 7 years and had never seen them before. They tried the front and back doors. The son-in-law came running over to ask if I knew if any neighbors had a key to Mary's house. I said I did not and asked the only neighbor who might, the elderly lady who Mary helped. She didn't have a key. I asked the son-in-law if something was wrong, since he looked shaken. He guided me away from his children and mine and said "I can see her laying on the kitchen floor. It doesn't look good." We called 911. Firefighters broke in the back door, but Mary had been dead many hours at that point.

The autopsy showed that Mary's heart gave out due to an extreme electrolyte imbalance as a result of anorexia. Her organs had been starting to shut down as well. One of Mary's sisters told me more about the situation. Apparently Mary had battled anorexia previously and had overcome it through in-patient care. This time she pulled away from her family to try to avoid being forced to seek treatment. Her daughter knew that the anorexia was back and tried to get her mother help. Mary refused. The daughter didn't want to deal with her mother's "drama" and they became estranged. Mary's seven siblings all asked her to at least go to an outpatient counselor and she pushed them away too. Mary had lost her job because she got so thin that she frightened the clients at the salon. She was also so weak that she couldn't stand long enough to complete a hair cut.

Mary's sister said that she didn't think Mary would have accepted help from anyone, including her neighbors. That didn't help our feelings of guilt. We still talk about Mary, about how we could have done more, SHOULD have done more. We know intellectually that Mary's family couldn't even get her to take care of herself and that we as neighbors would likely not have fared any better. It doesn't make us feel any better.

We stood by and watched a woman die.

Anorexics and Bulimics Anonymous
Something Fishy
Eating Disorders Anonymous

I'm Missing the Pop Evil CD Release Party!!!

Life bites sometimes.

A local club has been having stuff all day to celebrate the release of the new Pop Evil CD. I love, love, love Pop Evil. 100 in a 55, Hero, Somebody Like You - just great tunes.

I never got tickets to the main party tonight, but they were having a special pre-party this afternoon for kids. Adults could only get in with a child. I was totally going to that. They were going to sing some of their songs, but in a family-friendly manner (yeah, good luck with that guys). I had the kids in the car, took them to lunch, and we were heading to the Intersection. Then Boy barfed in the car. Aacckk!! First of all, I don't handle vomit well at all. You would think after two children I would be used to it. You would be wrong. Second, I can't exactly take a barfing child to a rock show, even one aimed at kids. Bah.

So I didn't get to see them and get the new CD.

Here's Pop Evil singing my favorite of their songs, 100 in a 55, at the Intersection last month.

Here's their video for "Somebody Like You"

Response to a comment

In response to a recent post of mine, a fellow blogger commented:

oh gosh - I actually feel sorry for Spousehole now. I can see the appeal of doing this and I can see that you are taking precautions to make sure it doesn't backfire on you - but it's so not good for the soul. Surely it's better to finish things with Spousehole and then be a free agent and do as you wish. I just think you will end up getting hurt or in a whole heap of trouble.

Let me say first that I appreciate this type of comment. I appreciate criticism and such, so long as it is civil and/or constructive. I like people to be honest and say what they feel about what I write, but to be polite about it, as was this commenter. If someone said "Fat ugly whore!" that wouldn't be appreciated (but I would know that Spousehole had found the blog - LOL).

My response:

Sometimes I feel bad for Spousehole too. But he's made his choice to blame his erectile issues on me, telling me I'm too fat, old, ugly, not sexually attractive, etc., and only once confessing that he has the same erectile problems even masturbating. He refuses to discuss this with his doctor to see if there's something that can help (meds, treatment of any as-yet-unknown underlying condition, I don't know). He's made his choice to not share my bed in any way, sexual or otherwise. He's made the choice to verbally abuse and degrade me and make me feel so bad about myself that I seek comfort and reassurance in the arms of other men. He's made the choice to ignore my fairly obvious cheating. He's made his choices and I've made mine, good or bad.

We have actually discussed an open marriage. In that discussion, he acknowledged that he doesn't meet my needs and he knows I need more. He said he wants me to be happy and for that reason he thinks he might be able to tolerate me having lovers, so long as I was discreet and didn't throw it in his face. He never outright gave me permission, but he let me know that he really doesn't care either. Jealousy is apparently not a problem.

No, what I do probably isn't good for my soul. But I really don't feel too bad about it. I've tried, from day one, but the guilt has just never come. I feel bad sometimes not for potentially hurting Spousehole but for risking my children's family and stable home life. Then I remember that we aren't exactly a happy family and my children's home life isn't exactly stable. So what really am I risking? So long as the children are not aware of or involved in any way in my infidelity, it isn't likely to have any effect on my getting primary physical custody if Spousehole and I separate. Perhaps my children will be happier if their parents aren't fighting with each other or walking on eggshells constantly.

All these are things I think about regularly, especially with Spousehole now interviewing out of state which raises the possibility of having to choose to move together and make this work or separate and have the children deal with a long distance parenting relationship.

It's Friday and I Don't Have Much to Say

Spousehole's flight from our town to Atlanta yesterday went off without a hitch. His flight to Charleston? Not so much. He and three total strangers rented a car and drove the 300+ miles from Atlanta to Charleston. Must be a guy thing. I don't think women would do that - hop in a car and drive 6 hours with total freakin' strangers.

Why do people, even in our own city, seem to think that moving to Charleston would mean moving to a bigger city? Um, hello, our current city has a larger population (198,000 vs. 118,000 for Charleston) and our metro area pop is larger (780,000 vs. 600,000). Where we live may not be as well known, but it isn't exactly podunk. One difference would be population density. Here it's about 4,400 peeps per sq. mile and there it's about 1,000/sq mile. BIG difference. Not so crowded. Of course, they have a lot of water area that's not inhabited. Then again, we Michiganders have to stay close together to stay warm. :-)

My son has the day off school today (records day? I guess it's a day for teachers to get caught up on all the paperwork that they don't usually have time to do). I may take the kiddos swimming (indoor, obviously, since we got another inch of snow last night). I'll go to my parents' house for a while - let the kids trash their place instead of mine. Actually, I have my dad's car right now. Spousehole damaged the Mommyvan on Wednesday (nothing major, but even "nothing major" costs an arm and a leg to fix these days) and my dad took it to work on it and left me his van. Mine is newer, but his is not too bad, despite the nasty cigarette smoke smell. It has every option known to mankind. Seriously. Anyway, my dad fixed Spousehole's little "boo-boo" and it looks good as new. Or as good as it did before Wednesday. Saved me about $400. Go Dad! So I have to go trade cars back; the kids trashing someone else's house is just bonus.

My body must know spring is on the way, because I'm starting to get incredibly horny. It's like that gets dulled in the cold and dreariness of winter and then when spring hits I'm a wild woman. I get super horny in the spring and it lasts pretty much until summer gets too hot and humid. I guess there's a reason both my kids were conceived in May. Does anyone else experience this?

Guess I had more to say than I thought. Perhaps I should have said I don't have much INTERESTING to say.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to HNT . . .

Last night when Spousehole was packing for Charleston, he asked if he could borrow my camera for the trip. I said sure and was removing my 1GB card and planning to give him the measly 32MB card. He said, just leave the 1GB card. I may want to take a lot of pictures. Okee dokee, so I surreptitiously tried to delete any "incriminating photos" and ended up just deleting everything. Including my HNT pictures for this week. Ack! So you get archive photos this week (aka re-runs). These (click!) are from November. I really liked how they turned out.

Why do we get half-nekkid? Want to join the fun? See Os at

Note: After returning from taking Spousehole to the airport at the ungodly hour of 5:00 a.m., Girl and I wisely returned to bed. Not Boy. He took a bath, played with his cars, and just generally goofed around. What are the odds he's going to make it through the school day without becoming a tired, cranky little boy? Not good, I'd say. Not good at all.

Note 2, 5:00 p.m.: Boy had a great day at school. Go figure. Perhaps sleep deprivation is just what he needs! Or maybe the new meds are having the desired effect. Either way - YAY BOY!

Ask and Ye Shall Receive

You asked, but it really isn't that interesting. The scoop on my latest "forbidden liaison:"

Not too much to tell, really. We met on AFF. We had dinner one night (like a real date!) and talked for a few hours. I wasn't feeling that spark of attraction and wasn't sure if I wanted to see him again. He is tall, fairly good looking, in excellent physical condition, but 49 and BLONDE. Blondes aren't always my thing. Guys that much older than me aren't always my thing, but like I said he is in excellent physical condition and this helps him to not look his age. It appears his marriages probably ended because he puts more time into being successful in his job (CEO of his own company) than being successful in marriage. I don't want to marry him, so this isn't an issue. So I did decide to see him again. Spark-free sex with a good-looking guy is still sex with a good-looking guy, right? We met at his place. More on that to follow.

He's been married twice and currently has a long-term girlfriend whose religious beliefs keep her from providing much in the way of sex. While I generally don't like to see single guys, the long-term girlfriend was close enough to being married. It would keep him from getting overly attached and gives him something to lose if our situation were to become known. Plus he is in a high-profile business situation where he might not want it known that he is a "player," so that helped too.

At his place we talked some more and it became apparent that he wasn't going to make the first move. So I did. We kissed. Not bad. We kissed some more. I felt like a high schooler, making out on the living room couch. I finally put his hand under my sweater, because I'm just impatient like that. (And his girlfriend was at church band practice and could be coming over within the nest hour to 90 minutes. No point wasting time.) That got the ball rolling. He dove right in, nuzzling, kissing, and sucking my breasts - that's what I was waiting for! It's kind of the test - you treat the girls right and you get to go further. If you don't treat the girls right, give them the attention they crave and deserve, you will be kicked to the curb. He passed the test.

We decided to move upstairs to his bedroom. He didn't need any more prompting. :-) He again dove right in, but I'm not talking about "the girls" anymore. Apparently he did learn a little something in two marriages - the man has a very talented tongue. It didn't take me long at all - sufficient time spent on my breasts means less work later! Apparently, I was having all the fun, because he was, ur, wasn't, um, well, you know. I was a bit concerned. After all, with the exception of Spousehole's erectile dysfunction issues I've discussed previously, I have very little experience with guys who aren't good to go after this much foreplay and such. My experiences tend more toward those like with PiC*, who is hard as a rock from the first kiss and that situation never changes until the main event has been concluded. If I was a heartless bitch, I would just say "Well I got mine, see you later. Good luck with that." But I am not that person. And it doesn't occur to me that this may be perfectly natural for a 49-year-old guy who is, for the first time, cheating on his girlfriend whose pictures are every. damn. where. No, it's clearly all about me. Of course my insecurities all rise to the surface. What goes through my head: "OMG, it must be because I'm too fat, I'm too ugly, I have all these stretch marks, I probably have bad breath -- wait, I know, it's that zit on the side of my nose that popped up this morning, isn't it? That must be it. OMG, I'm hideous!"

All that runs through my head, but mostly I take this as a challenge. I go with what I know is my best chance, the CPR of sexual moves: combined oral and manual stimulation. I start with my tongue on his balls, hand manipulating the joystick. BTW guys - a little manscaping can go a long way; just saying. Anyway, after a bit of this, we have a pulse, but it's weak. Stronger methods are definitely going to be necessary. The mouth and hand trade places. Alright, that's better now, definite "fluffing" going on. That's what we like to see! And what's that I hear - some gasping and moaning? Yes, this is what the doctor prescribed, no doubt. My original intent was to just get things in the proper condition then climb on top of that bad boy. But I was having so much fun I just couldn't bring myself to stop. Oral fixation: it can be a problem like that. So I continued and he didn't complain. At least I'm pretty sure those noises weren't complaints. ;-) How long did this go on? I have no idea. I didn't have my contacts in and I wasn't looking at the clock anyway. It lasted as long as it needed to last. It was a little while, but it paid off with his body-quaking, gasping-for-breath orgasm filling my throat. He kissed me (that's another key thing: if you won't kiss me after coming in my mouth, just take yourself to the curb and save me the trouble of kicking you there, 'k?) and held me as he caught his breath. Once able to speak again, he confessed his initial nervousness and tried to apologize for it. Of course, no apologies were necessary. Sheez.

After we dressed we kissed some more in the living room and agreed that there will be a next time. His girlfriend called and was leaving a message on the answering machine that she was leaving church as we were kissing, so I guess we timed that about right.

And you thought TMI was just for Tuesday.

*I've chatted with PiC more the last couple days than in a long while. Boy do I miss him!! Our schedules just haven't meshed at all since summer. For instance, he is off work right now because of a car accident and has had some time at home during the day without his wife and 4 kids when he could really use some company. I can't just leave my daughter at home by herself though, can I? Frustrating. If I could see him regularly, I wouldn't see anyone else. He's that hot and satisfies me that well.

TMI Tuesday

1. Stubble... good or bad? How often do you shave?

On me, stubble is very, very bad. I shave my legs and armpits at least every other day (okay, sometimes I let the legs go a little longer in the winter). Or do you mean, um, elsewhere? Elsewhere gets shaved every couple days. Stubble there is very, very, VERY bad.

On guys, facial stubble can be kind of hot, a reminder that you're with a man. Other stubble on a man, not so good. Totally smooth or trimmed short is good in that area. No one likes hair in their teeth.

2. If someone shoves you up against a wall while kissing you, your reaction is?

Extreme turn-on! That will get my panties damp every. single. time.


3. Did you ever own a fake ID?

A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.

4. Have you ever played a game which may require you or others to disrobe?

Strip poker. And I'm really bad at poker ;-)

5. Have you ever had sex in the snow? Rain?

In the rain, yes. It sounds hot, but it really wasn't for me. I prefer no precipitation (and no insects!) or I'll stay indoors, thank you.

Bonus (as in optional): Tell us about your last boyfriend/girlfriend?
I guess that would be Spousehole, since he was my last "official" boyfriend before I was married. If you read this blog, you know all about him. My last extramarital liaison (last week - I've been holding out on y'all) was tall, blond, and way better than I thought he'd be. I'll be seeing him again.

This is my 375th post! Wow! And Michigan State is in the Sweet 16 - GO SPARTANS!

Edit 12:30 p.m.: You guys, I am the WORST. MOM. EVER. I was getting out a pan to make lunch when I heard a noise behind me. I swung around and smacked my tiny daughter right in the face with the pan! Poor little thing! No blood or anything, but boy do I feel awful. I bet her nose swells up and bruises nicely. Doh!

Easter Monday Musings

Easter Sunday was a good day. Church was beautiful, as always. I love Easter Sunday services. I'm way too lazy for a sunrise service and it's too cold here for outdoor services, so we went to our usual 11:00 a.m. service, getting there about 10:00 a.m. for fellowship and breakfast between the services. Saw a lot of people we don't see too often (either they moved away and are back for a visit or they just don't come terribly often). The kids loved it. Girl loves dressing up, so Easter is her day. She did not want to wear a sweater over her beautiful dress, but Mommy insisted. It was cold out there! She's lucky I didn't make her wear snow boots.

Spousehole leaves Thursday for an interview in Charleston, S.C. He'll be back on Sunday. He has already had a conference call interview, but now the entity is flying him down there for in-person interviews, tours of the facility, etc.

He's pretty geeked. Me, not so much. First there's the immediate annoyance of being left alone with the kids for several days. We'll be fine, we always are, but it's just annoying. It wouldn't bother me as much if there were parity, that is, if I got to go away for a few days without the family too. But my job does not come with vacation days or "personal time" or require solo travel. A mom's job never ends.

Second, there's the whole possibility of him actually taking a job in South Carolina. He talks as though he expects the kids and I would go with him. I don't know about that. On the one hand, perhaps it could be the "new start" he keeps talking about. On the other hand, I highly suspect nothing would change except that I would be 1,000 miles away from my family and friends - though, let's face it: most of my friendships right now are pretty superficial. I'd still have all y'all here in the blogosphere though, right? Plus Charleston is damn hot and humid in the summer. Spousehole has only ever lived in Michigan and in England. He has no idea what a southern U.S. summer can be like. I'm not so good with heat and humidity. My Dad was trying to talk to Spousehole about that this weekend, about the "culture shock" he and my mom experienced when we first moved to North Carolina from Iowa. It was similar when we moved to Michigan and my poor little sister had only known life in N.C. She was pretty taken aback. We arrived in Michigan on September 6, 1975 (my 8th birthday) and had on our winter coats from N.C. It was 40 degrees. Those coats were worthless. Just as my collection of gorgeous sweaters will be if we move south.

But, let's not put the cart before the horse. It's just an interview. They may meet Spousehole and find him as annoying as I do and not even make an offer. At least they will have treated him to a lovely trip to Charleston in the springtime.

* * * * *

Help me figure something out -

Why is it when I hear this song, Drama Queen, by Switches:


My brain immediately thinks of Don't Bring Me Down, by ELO?

He is Risen!

This gorgeous seven-lancet chancel window at my church represents the resurrection of Jesus after his crucifixion, as related in the Book of Luke. Three women have come in the early morning hours to the tomb where he was laid, intending to anoint his body with spices and oils. They are met by two angels who tell them that Jesus is no longer there because he has risen from the dead. The central figures of the women and angels are placed against a luxuriant landscape filled with lilies, trees and water that reflects the colors of the rising sun. The fourteen by twenty-six-foot window was created by the Tiffany Studios of New York and unveiled at the Christmas Eve service in 1916.
See Luke 24:1-9

Happy Easter!

Holy Saturday Batman!

(I know, I'm going to Hell. Don't lecture me.)

WTF happened to spring?!? We got 6" of snow yesterday. Where my parents live, along Lake Michigan, they got a FOOT of snow yesterday. Allegedly the first full day of spring. Easter weekend.

This is just WRONG.

I may have to make my daughter wear jeans under her fancy spring Easter dress tomorrow. She will definitely have to wear boots. No cute little patent leather Mary Janes in this weather. When we went to Good Friday services last night, Spousehole was outside shoveling right up until the service began. A couple other guys were shoveling and one had a snow-blower. Our plowing company didn't show up because they didn't realize that a church would have a service on Good Friday. You'd think they would've asked. You would also think that someone from the church would have called them to confirm that the parking lots would be plowed before Good Friday services. But apparently since the church offices were closed all day, no one thought to call the plowing company. What. A. Mess. Fortunately only about 65 people came to the service (a usual Sunday service draws about 600).

"Good" Friday

It's Good Friday. What's so "good" about it I have yet to figure out. Seriously. We are commemorating Jesus' crucifixion and death. That was "good?" I mean, I understand that it led to the resurrection and salvation and all that, but it still doesn't seem "good" to me.

No school today, so both my kids are home, plus I'll have two neighbor kids in the afternoon. Happy happy, joy joy. I still feel nasty. I may even try a neti pot, which has worked so well for M. Giant. I'm that desperate. I have to go get more Sudafed today - I better remember my ID! I left my license in the car last time I went to the store and I couldn't buy more decongestant without it. Damn meth heads!

Church tonight for a service of tenebrae. I'm hoping to lay around like a giant slug on Saturday so that I will feel better for Easter Sunday. We're not doing much this year for Easter. Church in the morning, hanging with my family in the afternoon. We used to go out for lunch, my whole family, but no one was really up for it this year. I'm picking up a god-awful expensive HoneyBaked Ham® this afternoon for Sunday. That's the extent of my contribution this year. I'm sick, after all. No one wants anything made by me.




see more crazy cat pics

HNT

I'm sick. Sinus/cold thingy. All I want to do is sleep and take hot baths to soothe my sinuses. A picture of me sleeping, with my puffy face, wouldn't be too cool, so you get my badly-in-need-of-a-pedicure feet in the bath. Hopefully today I'll feel some better. Let's hope!

Click-thru is NSFW

Why do we get half-nekkid? Want to join the fun? See Os at

TMI Tuesday!

1. In the midst of a hangover have you ever promised to "never drink again?" How long until you broke that vow?

Oh yeah. Hundreds of times. Sometimes it was within a couple days that I drank again. I was a college student, after all! I haven't been that drunk in about 15 years. After the last "I'll never drink again" bout, I probably went six months to a year without a drink. Even now I only drink once or twice a month and I don't really get drunk anymore.

2. What is the stupidest thing you have ever done while drinking (or not if it is really stupid) but thought it seemed like a good idea at the time?

You mean besides drinking and driving or sleeping with guys I barely knew? Well, there was this one time, at band camp, . . .

Seriously, here are just a few:

Gone skinny-dipping in Lake Huron. The NORTHERN part of Lake Huron.

Peed my pants. On purpose. In front of people. (I was dared and I'll take any dare when drunk.)

Stole a little kid's bicycle with training wheels (I got it back to its owner the next morning, safe and sound) and rode it around Harbor Beach, Michigan at 2 in the morning.

Gotten food at the McDonald's drive-thru. Without a car.

Changed clothes in the parking lot of Cedar Point, right out in the open. Underwear and everything.

There are probably more, but I don't remember them. At least that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

3. On a scale of 1-10, where do you rate green beer?

-500. I don't drink beer, because I'm allergic to an ingredient in it (and all malt beverages). I pay for drinking beer or malt beverages with a puffy face, swollen lips and throat, and sometimes a rash. So beer, green or otherwise, is not high on my list of things to drink.

4. Have you ever kissed someone you shouldn't have (drunk or sober)?

Um, yeah. Do you read this blog? It's a bad habit I have. Did it last night, in fact.

5. What is the stupidest thing you have ever seen a drunk do (besides driving a car)?

Jump off the roof of a two-story house into a pool that was only 5 feet at the deepest part.

Bonus (as in optional): How do you cure your hangover(s)?

When I go to bed I take an aspirin and a multi-vitamin and drink at least 8 ounces of water. I make sure to eat a hearty breakfast (eggs, bacon, toast with OJ or oatmeal with OJ) and drink lots and lots of water to replace the nutrients and hydration lost from drinking.

* * * * *

1:15 p.m. edit: I'm not a happy camper this afternoon. Boy had a psychiatric eval today. They wore me down (Dr. and Spousehole). I agreed to try a drug on my baby boy. An anti-psychotic. Fuck. He's not hallucinating, he's not schizophrenic. But he's going to be taking a drug that is mainly for those things. Risperdal. He's starting on a teeny-tiny dose. Even so, I don't want my baby to turn into a little zombie.

I'm scared.

Mute Monday - Mother Nature

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Here's a Crazy Irish Midget... (When He Starts to Look Good, Stop Drinking!) To: All my friends and readers From: Bunny

What Virtual St. Patrick's Day Gift Should You Give?

What Your Shamrock Says About You

You are brilliant, analytical, and somewhat of a perfectionist. You are ultra competent and knowledgeable. At times, people find you intimidating. You can be a bit sarcastic and harsh. You don't really consider yourself a lucky person. In your view, people create their own luck. You are creative, innovative, and complicated. You definitely have a unique spin on the world.

The Shamrock Personality Test

Unconscious Mutterings and BTW Sunday

Unconscious Mutterings, the Free Association meme

1. Paranormal :: Spooky
   
2. Alarm :: Hate it!
   
3. Operative :: Spy
   
4. Changing :: Seasons
   
5. Framed :: Pictures
   
6. Beer :: Yuck!
   
7. Referral :: Doctor
   
8. Unmasked :: Eliot Spitzer
   
9. Movie star :: Cary Grant
   
10. Handbook :: Girl Scout
    

BTW Sunday

By the way...

Did anyone call you last night?

Yes, but I wasn't home then. Spousehole talked to them.

How late were you on the computer last night?

11:15 p.m.

What did you have to eat last night?

Original chicken sandwich, plain, from Burger King. No fries.

Did you watch any good TV shows or movies last night?

No; no TV - played Uno Attack with my nephew

Did any news items stand out to you last night?

No

Did you go out last night?

Not really, I was at my parents' until 8:30, then drove the kids and myself home.

What was the weather like last night?

Clear and warm-ish (for Michigan in March)

What was the last thing you said last night?

"You stupid cat"

What time did you go to bed last night?

11:15 p.m.

*~*~*~*

I was up at 5:30 a.m. with sinuses that hurt too much to allow me to sleep any longer. Damn, this is some bad stuff I've got. Two sudafeds (the good stuff, that you have to show ID to buy) and a heating pad on my face took the pain down to merely painful, from "OMFG just kill me now!" To top it off, I've got a very sore throat from the post-nasal stream (no mere drip for me!). Sucks arse.

*~*~*~*

My parents' neighbor, who they've known for 33 years, slipped on some ice last week and broke his hip. My parents' are taking care of his dogs while he has been in the hospital and now while he goes to a rehab facility. So the neighbor invited my Dad to watch the Indiana b-ball game the other night at the neighbor's house, since he has Big 10 network on his satellite service and it's not available on my parents' cable. The neighbor also has a big screen TV. My Dad's complaint afterward: "That screen is just too big. Who needs a TV that big?" I'm starting to question my Dad's masculinity - after all, don't all men want the biggest TV screen that money can buy?

Since my Dad has the keys, the neighbor's daughters came by my parents' house yesterday to be let in to get their father some stuff. It was kind of scary to see. The neighbor's youngest daughter used to be my sister's best friend. I've known her since she was 2 years old and she is now 34. She was always very pretty and intelligent. Not any more. She looks like she's nearly 50. She's also quite skinny and her teeth are rotting in her head. Can you say "meth head?" It breaks my heart to see people do that to themselves. She could have really done something with her life and instead she threw it all away to be a meth head. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Body Image Challenge

A friend posted recently about body image issues. He challenged his (mostly female) readership to the following:

I think we should all stand in front of a mirror and look at ourselves, make a list of what we like about who we are, body, mind, spirit. Focus on that, not the extra pounds, or the grey pubic hair, or the sagging breasts or growing stomach. Post something body positive, post something that will allow your admirers to fully appreciate you.

Gee, why not ask me to solve the Israeli-Palestinian problem, bring peace to Iraq, and make George W. Bush intelligent? Because saying something nice about myself is just as nigh-on-impossible.

Note: I don't have gray pubic hair, but I have all the other things on which he says not to focus. It's kind of like telling someone to not think about pink elephants - all you can think about is pink elephants! Also, it is very, very hard to find things to like about myself when I live with someone who constantly criticizes and belittles everything about me. If the person who is supposed to love me above all others thinks I am fat, ugly, and downright repulsive, what's to like?

Okay, what do I like about my body? Hmmmm. I kind of like that it is soft, not so hard and angular as when I was in my teens (78 pounds at 16 y.o. and 5'2") and early 20s (up to 105 pounds by 21 - much, much healthier). I want to lose weight and be more fit, but I don't want to go back to being a sack of skin with bones sticking out. That wasn't cool either.

I like that my breasts are sensitive and responsive. That's one of the reasons I probably would never get implants or even a breast lift to relieve the sagging - I would be scared of losing that sensation. Friends who've had breast surgery (augmentation, reduction, lift) have all experienced at least some loss of sensation.

I like my feet. I think they look pretty darn good for 40 year old feet. I've seen younger women with much nastier looking feet. I think part of the reason my feet are in good condition is that I haven't worn high-heels regularly for many, many years. Even when I was still practicing law, I ran around the office in (tasteful) slippers or flats and only put on the heels when I was meeting with a client, going to a deposition, or in court.

I've come to embrace my stretch marks. I had a few stretch marks on my upper thighs and butt before I had kids, but my abdominal stretch marks are from carrying my babies. I wouldn't trade my little monkeys for anything in the world, so I embrace the stretch marks created by nurturing them in my body for 8 months each. Same deal with the c-section scars. Without the c-sections I wouldn't have my babies (heck without the first one, I wouldn't have me either), so they are a reminder of something wonderful.

That's really all I can find right now that I like. I tried Ed, I really did.

End of the week odds and ends

*Did you see the thing about the woman who sat on her toilet for 2 years straight and her skin actually grew around the seat so they had to remove the seat to take her to the hospital? Her boyfriend brought her food and beverages, enabling her to stay right where she was. Some are speculating that she may be mentally ill. Gee, really, ya think? Also, did that remind anyone else of the episode of Nip/Tuck with the woman whose skin had grown into her couch? At least toilet lady wasn't sitting in her own filth (I'm assuming she flushed occasionally).

* Last night reinforced our choice to live in the city versus an anonymous suburb. Everyone with kids was spilling forth into the relatively warm weather. Girl and I went "walkies" and ran into all kinds of people. When we approached our home, we stopped to talk and/or play with various neighbors who were outside. At one point we had 11 kids from 7 households, ranging in age from 15 months to 10 years old, all goofing around together (skating, tossing a ball, playing with sticks, etc.) and parents talking and getting caught up after a bitter cold winter of staying inside. The physical closeness of the homes seems to lead to a friendly closeness between neighbors. We don't just wave to the neighbors when we're heading in the house or out the door - the porches are close enough that we can have an actual conversation. Everyone knows just about everyone else. We have keys to each other's houses. We are within easy walking distance of a grocery store, a coffee house, a deli, a bakery, several churches and a synagogue, several parks, and a liquor store. What more could you want? It's what a neighborhood should be.

*Last night also reinforced how tiny my baby girl really is. The 15-month-old boy of one neighbor was almost as tall as Girl. The 19-month-old daughter of another neighbor is as tall as Girl. Girl, as a reminder, is 38 months old (3 years + 2 months).

*I have been trying to write a couple short (naughty) stories lately, but seem to have terrible writer's block. Hopefully I'll find some inspiration soon and overcome that block. Care to inspire me?

*My children are rotten little beasts sometimes. I made a lovely homemade chicken noodle soup for dinner last night. Hearty, veggie-filled, with shredded chicken and egg noodles, all in a home made chicken stock. The little monsters wouldn't eat it. Boy picked out veggies and ate those, then wanted to make ramen noodles (!?!). Girl slurped down all the broth, but wouldn't eat the veggies, chicken, or noodles. Ungrateful little bastards.

*I was pushing my daughter on the backyard swing yesterday. For some unknown reason, she just let go at the top of the forward arc. I have no idea what in the world she was thinking. She went flying, then landed with her upper back and neck hitting the ground first, mid-somersault. OUCH! She seems to be okay. The thing is, she is the kind of kid who won't learn from that mistake. She'll let go again, despite the fact that she should have learned that consequences of her action are pain and more pain. She's going to break something some day, I just know it.

*Spousehole has two young children (3 and 7) and a wife with whom he has difficulty communicating. So why is this the book he's reading?He refused to read the original "Five Love Languages" book when we were in counseling, but he can read the version directed to better communicating love to teenagers. WTF?
Although taking the love languages quiz and sharing our results with each other in counseling helped him to learn how important physical affection and words of affirmation are to me. He has, of course, used that knowledge to specifically withhold those things in order to hurt me more. (Me, bitter? Nah . . . )

HNT

Why do we get half-nekkid? Want to join the fun? See Os at

Hey Amorous Chick - you locked your blog and didn't invite me? What up wit dat?

What's in a Name?

Do you make up names for people you run into on a regular basis?

Please tell me I'm not the only one who does this bizarre thing. For instance, I wrote recently about my son's bus driver, Snoop Dogg. Now, I could just ask him his real name. But it's more fun to just call him Snoop in my head and when talking to Spousehole. (BTW, if I mention "Snoop," Spousehole knows immediately that I'm talking about the bus driver and not Calvin Broadus.)

But the bus driver isn't the only one. I call the guy at the bakery "Che," in my head, because he looks like Che Guevara (the beard, the hat, the eyes - seriously, this could be his grandson). The guy at the gas station is "Cute Bi-Guy" although I do now know his real name now (and it's screams "I'm very, very gay." No way his mother gave him that name, at least not that spelling. But I know he branches out and does the occasional chick, hence "Bi-Guy.")

The chick at the deli by my house is "Kelly" because she looks just like Kelly Osborne, but less stoned and more piercings. A clerk at the grocery store is "Wanda" because she looks like, sounds like, and is almost as funny as Wanda Sykes.

The homeless guy who kept gathering carts at the grocery store and bringing them back inside so they finally just hired him is "Grizzly" for Grizzly Adams. (Does anyone else remember that show or is it just me?) A lady at church is "Bobblehead Lady" (she has Parkinson's, but also a wicked sense of humor). A guy who walks through our neighborhood in the summer is "Lurch." A similar-looking fellow joined our church and is "Church Lurch." The depressed coffee shop clerk is "Richard" for Richard Lewis.

Am I insane? Am I becoming George W. Bush, who gives everyone a nickname?

WTF Wednesday

WTF . . .

. . . was Eliot Spitzer thinking? When your image is that of a crusader for the rule of law and all that is considered "right," how can you think you'll get away with hiring a prostitute and wanting her to take you bareback? Hello?!? And to top it off, you pay for her to travel across state lines, in violation of the Mann Act, a federal law. Keep in mind, Spitzer made a lot of enemies as AG in NY. He stepped on a lot of federal toes in his investigations and prosecutions. These are not people to whom you want to give ammunition. Idiot.

. . . does testosterone do to the male brain that allows it to remember sports stats, WWII airplane details, and a ridiculous number of programming languages, but not that Wednesday is freaking garbage day, as it has been for the last 10 years? Or that you need to scrape off the dishes before putting them in the sink because we do not have a gosh darn garbage disposal in the house we have been living in for 10 years? Or that folded clothes in a basket are probably clean, so you should refrain from putting your dirty underwear and socks on top of them? Or that the children's bedtime is 8:30, therefore putting in a 90-minute movie at 8:15 is probably unwise?

. . . is Snoop Dogg doing driving a school bus? Because I'm pretty sure that's who my son's latest bus driver is. Or at least his long-lost twin brother. I don't know his name, so in my head he is Snoop. This morning he wanted to "axe" me something. He "axed" one of the teachers yesterday, but he wanted to "axe" me too. I was polite, but I wanted to scream "It's ASK, not axe!" I'm such a bitch.

. . . is the deal with men's fascination with lactation? Is this a fairly common fantasy/kink or do I just seem to find these guys? It doesn't bother me, but my girls are just for show. They didn't work as advertised when I had newborn children, they certainly don't function that way now. Nurse all you would like (no really - PLEASE), but nothing is going to happen besides me getting really turned on. Sorry.

TMI Tuesday!

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Gee, that's all?

Of course, our value is really determined by what someone is willing to pay. Make me an offer!
I accept cash and Paypal (MC/Visa/checking account transfer)!

And it would take more than that to get me to sleep with Eliot Spitzer . . .

Mute Monday - March

Stolen meme

I stole this from Ed, who in turn stole it from Flat Coke and Flies. Like it? Steal away!

What is your occupation?
Chief cook and butt wiper - aka SAHM

What color are your socks right now?
Black, with gray roses (they're cute, really; I swear)

What are you listening to right now?
The audio of Monsters Inc., which my son is watching in the next room.

What was the last thing that you ate?
Ribeye, medium rare, baked potato, house salad, rolls.

Can you drive a stick shift?
You betcha

If you were a crayon, what color would you be?
PURPLE!

Last person you spoke to on the phone?
Spousehole

Do you like the person who you stole this from?
I do indeed

Favorite drink?
Caffeine-free Diet Coke
or Maker's Mark and Diet Coke
or Patron

What is your favorite sport to watch?
Real sport: Hockey
Sort-of sport: Ninja Warrior (Sasuke)

Have you ever dyed your hair?
It's dyed right now! Chocolate cherry (very, very close to my natural color, without the pesky grays)

Pets?
Three very spoiled cats, aged 13, 10, and 10

Favorite food?
Sushi

Last movie you watched?
Monsters Inc. It runs at least once a day lately in my living room . . .

Favorite Day of the year?
Christmas Day

What do you do to vent anger?
Stupid little passive-aggressive things; drink; scream into my pillow; sleep with men to whom I not married

What was your favorite toy as a child?
Books. I always loved books more than toys. But if you insist on a real toy, the Easy Bake Oven.

What is your favorite, fall or spring?
Spring, but it's a close call

Hugs or Kisses?
Hugs - white and milk chocolate, all together . . . . Oh. You didn't mean the candies? Phhffft!

What kind of pie?
Rhubarb (No. Freakin. Strawberries. Unadulterated rhubarb)

Living arrangements?
3/2/1 with Spousehole, the monkeys, and the felines.

When was the last time you cried?
This morning

What is on the floor of your closet?
Shoes, a couple piles of clean clothes, a box of Spousehole's books (it's a walk-in), perhaps a cat

Favorite smell?
Vanilla - yuummmmm!

What inspires you?
Revenge and avarice

What are you afraid of?
Falling so deep into depression that I can never climb back out

Plain, cheese or spicy hamburgers?
Cheese - so long as it is blue cheese (not blue cheese dressing, actual blue cheese)

Favorite car?
1967 Mustang coupe

Favorite cat breed?
Abyssinian or Siamese; both are intelligent and gorgeously sleek

Number of keys on your key ring?
5

Number of loyalty or reward cards on your key ring?
15. No shit - I counted. For everything from the gas station and pharmacy to the pet supply store and the garage where I get my car fixed.

How many years at your current job?
7 years at my current lack-of-a-paying-job.

Favorite day of the week?
Saturday. It's the only day without a routine. I hate routine, but with kids (especially the autistic one) it's a necessary evil.

How many states have you lived in?
3 (Iowa, North Carolina, Michigan)

How many countries have you visited?
3 (I'm such a lame-ass in this regard. I really need to get out more.)

Plane, Train, or Automobile?
I used to love to fly, but it's not quite what it used to be. I enjoy the train quite a bit, but have never gone more than a 2-3 hours on one. I like the car. I control the music and temperature, I can sing aloud, I can stop and explore things that catch my eye. So I guess I'm going with the car.

A Bit of a Scare Today

and I'm not talking about my MIL visiting! Though she did, but that was okay. The kids loved seeing Grandma K.

No, the scare was earlier. Spousehole called from work around 9:30 and said "They're calling people into a conference room one at a time. The guys who've come back so far have all been told March 28 is their last day and they three weeks' severance pay." Shit. People who've been there way longer than Spousehole were getting axed. Spousehole figured he was going to "get the call" any minute. Shitfuckdamn.

He came home around noon. He still has a job. He doesn't yet know all the details, but apparently his company is going to continue supplying IT services to our municipality. They had to make cuts in accordance with their new contract and quite a few people on Spousehole's team were cut. But the company wants to send Spousehole to Palm Springs (CA) for two weeks of training to get him up to speed to take over administering some part of their GIS system (I can't explain it - I don't understand that stuff at all), so apparently he is staying on. But since he'll still be doing everything he has been doing plus taking over what another guy has been doing, the $2000/year raise they gave him a few weeks ago is looking really, really lame.

He still kept an appointment this afternoon concerning a job in Orlando. Best to keep one's options open.

Broken Hearts

My heart is breaking today. I'm actually crying as I type this.

The crazy part: it doesn't involve me. It's not my business, it's not my romance that ended.

A blogger couple that I have watched from afar, following on their blogs, rooting for them to succeed, has called it quits.

I feel silly being so upset about it. Kind of like when my mom cries because some soap opera couple broke up. But these two people aren't characters on a soap opera. They are real people. I may not have ever met them, but I really loved their love story. So as their hearts break, mine aches right along with them.

I'm so sorry, Hella and Exile. May you both find peace and comfort in this difficult time.

HNT - I Love My Mac Edition!

Ok, I don't have a Mac. No iPod, no iPhone. I'm a Ubuntu girl, these days. But we do have this:


Yeah, it's an Apple IIgs - Woz Signature Edition. The Woz is pretty collectible. This still runs and we still have the software to run it.

Why do we get half-nekkid? Want to join the fun? See Os at

WTF Wednesday

WTF does this mean? Girl and I were at the grocery store yesterday, in the bakery section. Girl didn't want to leave, because she wanted cupcakes. The lady decorating cakes there decided to be helpful and offer a toy to distract Girl and get her back into her police-car-shaped cart. The lady says to me "Would your granddaughter like a princess ring?"

OMG, how old do I look? There's no gray in my hair (okay, it's dyed to keep the grays at bay, but still). I don't think I'm that wrinkled. I don't dress like a grandma, I don't think. I'm only 40. Wow.

Maybe she saw my mail sometime. See, the AARP has been bugging me about joining for the last couple years. I have no idea how I got on their mailing list. But I do know that they sell that list, because now I get all kinds of mail targeted to "seniors." Because being 40 isn't bad enough, I must be made to feel as though I am even fricking older!

When I was in middle school, someone told me that my grandma dropped something off at the office for me. I was confused, since my grandma was dead. Turned out it was my mother. She was 37 at the time. 37! But she refused (and still refuses, 30 years later) to dye her hair. She was about 50% gray at 37 (I get one or two gray hairs - I got Dad's hair). She's got beautiful smooth skin and gray hair. She gets mistaken for being younger now, because her skin doesn't show her age. (I only wish I had inherited her skin. I have a couple "worry lines" AND also I still have acne. Thanks Dad!)

Speaking of getting older, Spousehole turned 41 yesterday. I never mentioned his birthday all day and I could tell it was bugging him. A taste of his own medicine. (I'm such a child!) I did get him a cake (I couldn't be bothered to make a real one, so I got one at the store) and we sang happy b-day to him. When I brought out a candle to put on the cake was the first time he noticed the cake and he started smiling like "She remembered!" Asshole. He acts like it's no big, but then he gives away how much he really wanted me to remember.


He used his B&N gift card to go get a DVD we've both been wanting (Sky Captain & The World of Tomorrow - we really liked it in the theatre). At least he didn't get some obscure anime that I would have no interest in.

Here's a shock:

What American accent do you have? Your Result: The Midland "You have a Midland accent" is just another way of saying "you don't have an accent." You probably are from the Midland (Pennsylvania, southern Ohio, southern Indiana, southern Illinois, and Missouri) but then for all we know you could be from Florida or Charleston or one of those big southern cities like Atlanta or Dallas. You have a good voice for TV and radio.
Philadelphia
The Inland North
The South
The Northeast
The West
Boston
North Central
What American accent do you have? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz