HOLY MOLY! I hit one hundred followers. That means 100 people took time out of their busy day to read at least a snippet of what I have to say and decide that it is worthy of their mouse click. That is HUGE! I am guessing that not everyone knows how I came to be diagnosed with bipolar and all of the crazy surrounding it. It has not been an easy road and even though I have not had a major depression in a little over a year I am always looking over my shoulder waiting for it to happen. It sucks to live that way but I am grateful for the "normal time" I have had. Click here for the whole story.
A BIG THANKS to all of those who continue to watch my story unfold and hopefully I can provide some useful information or a comic relief when you need it most.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Welcome Wednesday
WELCOME to the "Welcome Wednesday" blog hop, hosted by "take it from me"! Welcome Wednesday is a great way to meet new people and learn new things as well as increase your blog followers! So let's have some fun!!If you want to be a part of Welcome Wednesday, just follow these 5 simple steps:
1. Follow the Welcome Wednesday Host (Take It From Me)as well as the 2 Spotlighted Blogs of the Week. (These will make up the top three slots on the Linky)
2. Link up your blog name and URL with our Linky. (You only need to add your info once for it to be seen on all the blog hops)
3. Grab our Welcome Wednesday button and include it in a post about the event on your blog.
4. Go to as many blogs on the MckLinky as you want and Follow them. Be sure to tell them you are from Welcome Wednesday!
5. Be sure to Follow back any followers you have gained from our Welcome Wednesday event!
On a separate note, I ain't done shit today and my brain is dormant so I have nothing to blog about. If you are new,Welcome and you can click "here" to learn a little more about me.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Cool A$$ Waves and Tunes
I have come to the conclusion that my crazy mind might actually outlast my body. I loaded up Haylee, Avery, Sarah, Alex and Kaitlyn for a playdate with my friend Monica and her daughters. We met up at the double decker McDonalds downtown for lunch and then drove across the bridge to Atlantis Waterpark for a day of splashin' fun! This place was way cool! A huge wave pool, a kiddie pool chock full of neat animal slides and sprinklers and a slew of water slides. The kids absolutely loved it and it was great getting to catch up with Monica again so soon. I was sure I probably wouldn't get to see her until our reunion in October. I must say I am wore out and it feels like somebody punched me in the back. I admit, I was leery about going to a public pool in my fat/old chick tankini. It looked like two bears in a pup tent fighting over a fish! I somehow put my insecurities aside and decided to have some fun. The sun is good for my mood and I got plenty of it despite the re-buttering of my pasty white with SPF 45. We will definitely be going there again soon.
Because I feel like I need to be in traction or some shit and my brain is almost as tired as my limbs I don't have a long ramble. Instead, I am going to share a video I made a while back of Haylee and Avery learning to be karaoke divas! Of course they are cute...to me, but I hope you enjoy!
This Ain't No D@mn Pep Rally! *Reader Warning*
I was raised with a military Dad in a home where children were seen and not heard. I am not saying that him being military was his motivation for raising us to sit down and shut the fuck up. I am sure it was because he was an alcoholic and us kids were a real buzz kill. Or, I could probably come to the conclusion that he had PTSD or maybe even bipolar. Lord knows, Dad did some crazy shit when we were growing up.
Before you read any further, you should be warned if you are easily offended or if everything you hear somehow is a personal attack on you, this probably isn't daily reading material you should partake in. That said, this is no way intended to offend it is just my thoughts on a particular subject.
I was skimming "Mommie blogs" when I ran across a rant made by a "Mommieblogger". She was at a library "story time" activity with her young child. She described the activity more of a playgroup than reading hour. She explains that the younger than preschool aged children were a bit precocious and another Mommy in the group took offense. So much so that she turned to her and complained about "how some of these Mom's just let their kids run around". She wanted to call her a "Motherbitch" but bit her tongue. I just found my new name! Now, maybe it is because of my raising but there is a time and place for everything. What you let your kids get away with now will be carried with them throughout life.
I am not claiming that I am some super Mom where my kids don't get out of line. They absolutely do. Sometimes, I want to hang them up on the wall. My 14 year old son has ADHD and until about a year ago was off the chain. A teacher's nightmare. I put him in a regular daycare when he was three just so I could socialize him because I knew what school would be like for him. I was getting calls daily because he couldn't stand in a single file line without fidgeting, sit in the reading circle without rolling around on the floor and had regular outbursts. Thank goodness he is growing out of that.
My friend, LaVon recently posted on her facebook wall the following:
Before you read any further, you should be warned if you are easily offended or if everything you hear somehow is a personal attack on you, this probably isn't daily reading material you should partake in. That said, this is no way intended to offend it is just my thoughts on a particular subject.
I was skimming "Mommie blogs" when I ran across a rant made by a "Mommieblogger". She was at a library "story time" activity with her young child. She described the activity more of a playgroup than reading hour. She explains that the younger than preschool aged children were a bit precocious and another Mommy in the group took offense. So much so that she turned to her and complained about "how some of these Mom's just let their kids run around". She wanted to call her a "Motherbitch" but bit her tongue. I just found my new name! Now, maybe it is because of my raising but there is a time and place for everything. What you let your kids get away with now will be carried with them throughout life.
I am not claiming that I am some super Mom where my kids don't get out of line. They absolutely do. Sometimes, I want to hang them up on the wall. My 14 year old son has ADHD and until about a year ago was off the chain. A teacher's nightmare. I put him in a regular daycare when he was three just so I could socialize him because I knew what school would be like for him. I was getting calls daily because he couldn't stand in a single file line without fidgeting, sit in the reading circle without rolling around on the floor and had regular outbursts. Thank goodness he is growing out of that.
My friend, LaVon recently posted on her facebook wall the following:
"To the bad moms who watch their sons bully and fight other kids and say nothing: You gonna be the same ones that, when your child grows up and is killed violently, be on the news talking bout what a good person he was, how he never hurt nobody! Think about that while your tryin to make him hard! Yeah I said it!"
The Moms she refers to are the same ones that think it is so endearing when their two year old won't stop pulling on the shirt of the lady seated in the booth directly behind them at O'Charleys!
I have a lot of teacher friends. My sister-in-law is a teacher. I hear the horror stories. These people trudge through college racking up never-ending debt in order to teach. They do not go to a technical school to get a certificate in "early childhood development". Their job is to educate, not mediate.
I remember watching a home video many years ago of one of my nieces at a Christmas program. I think it was kindergarten. I can't remember anything in that video except watching her being constantly corrected; an aide actually had to sit with her to keep her seated criss-cross applesauce in the circle.
So when you decide that your two-year old is just being cute. That "cute" toddler quickly becomes an unruly six year old. And I promise, bystanders never think your kids are as cute as you do. Not that bystanders have the right to pass judgement but in a public arena they will. It is human nature.
~signed Motherbitch
I Want To Play Too
This week's Monday Minute is co-hosted by Jana, from Boobies, Babies & A Blog... This will be my first time playing along so I sure hope I am doing it right!
Has anyone you've known personally lived to at least 100?
Not a person but a dog. My older Sister had a dog growing up (she's 10 yrs older than me so I was the one growing up). It was a mangy poodle, about 800 years old if I had to guess. She loved that dog, the sun rose and set in it's ass.
What material possession do you value the most?
My pictures. I would probably sink into a crushing depression if anything ever happened to them all.
Has anyone you've known personally lived to at least 100?
Not a person but a dog. My older Sister had a dog growing up (she's 10 yrs older than me so I was the one growing up). It was a mangy poodle, about 800 years old if I had to guess. She loved that dog, the sun rose and set in it's ass.
What material possession do you value the most?
My pictures. I would probably sink into a crushing depression if anything ever happened to them all.
What do you think happens to us after we die?
I believe in reincarnation. I can't wrap my head around the idea that our personalities are gone forever after we are put in the ground.
Most embarrassing item in your house?
I have a blonde wig. It is really lovely. I bought it online while in a manic state of impulsive idiocracy! I have worn it out once. It's hotter than a whore on the Vegas strip!
If you could rename yourself, what would your name be?
Are you kidding? I would totally be a Rebecca or a Jennifer or something equally normal!
I believe in reincarnation. I can't wrap my head around the idea that our personalities are gone forever after we are put in the ground.
Most embarrassing item in your house?
I have a blonde wig. It is really lovely. I bought it online while in a manic state of impulsive idiocracy! I have worn it out once. It's hotter than a whore on the Vegas strip!
If you could rename yourself, what would your name be?
Are you kidding? I would totally be a Rebecca or a Jennifer or something equally normal!
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Friday, June 25, 2010
Perception Is NOT Reality
I heard someone once say in group therapy (perhaps, it was that narcissistic, assmunch therapist) that perception is not reality. It is a very good theory though, so I find myself saying quite often, "YOUR perception is not MY reality" in my everyday life. I recently blogged about my daughter's experience with the traveling theater The 99.
I had the opportunity to visit "The 99" for myself. I found that it was not nearly as traumatic an event as I had created in my mind after hearing Dani's account. Perhaps, it was because I am older than their targeted audience of ages of 11 to 24. Perhaps, it is because I am not easily swayed. Or may even be because I am well medicated. Most likely it is just perception.
I agreed to take my niece Amber and her friend was already there waiting for her when we arrived. We stood in a roped off line in the mall parking lot where there was a pizza vendor to one side and a mobile sound stage to the the other. I did my best to go into it with a totally open mind, merely as an observer and having no opinion falling on either side of the religion debate. There was a mass amount of security inside and outside of the event. At the entrance of the line were two male security officers that were passing out tickets to a separate event happening sometime in the future. One of the men clearly stated it was a Christian event when I asked what the tickets were for. He made no mention that the event we were standing in line for was going to be one as well. A band was playing when we first approached. Amber said it was a Christian rock group but for all the screaming this band was doing I could not decipher one word they said. Had I not been told of this band I still would not make any kind of religious connection. The band took a break and they began playing dance music and a very spunky and way to energetic for 90 degree heat, ceremony leader began "pumping" the crowd. Urging us to walk out of the ropes to do dances like "Cha-cha Slide" and "Cupid Shuffle". He was very motivational, and truth be told, a lot of fun to watch. They even made up a dance called the "Shower Dance" and asked for volunteers to come out and learn it. Just a side note, if I ever figure out this little camera thing on the top of my laptop screen and get the bazongas to ever Vlog, I assure you that you will learn the shower dance too!
As we got closer to the entrance we saw a TV screen posted displaying the rules. Most were what you would expect at any type of amusement park, concert or other event. There was no warning that you were about to enter a spiritual awakening. They did list that "the actors may touch you but you may not touch the actors". So of course, that was your warning that you may be accosted. Ass covered. They also prohibited cameras cell phones or recording devices. At this point we were directed to a table where you were asked to write down your contact information and check agree that you have read the warning. The warning basically stated that the 99 was a reality walk through theater that would dramatize the leading causes of death among youth based on statistics. Next, we were separated by gender to walk through a security check where males were scanned with a wand by a male security guard and the females were scanned by a female. My lighter was confiscated and tagged for later pick-up. I almost forgot to retrieve that little sucker!
We entered the first room which was a lighted room with pictures of wrecked cars and before and after mugshots of methheads. There was a TV playing but the audio was so poor and the screaming from other rooms only separated by a canvas tarp was so loud it was hard to decipher what it was saying.
We were led into a darkened room where there was a cage in the direct center. The lights went dark and you could not see anything and then when they came back on there was a demon or something in the cage and the devil placed in the corner spouting things like your bad choices will take you to hell. I only caught bits of what he was saying because again, the audio was of poor quality.
We moved to the next room which was led by someone dressed as the grim reaper and referred to as our spirit guide. We were seated in a single file line in front of a recreation of a fatal car accident. There were overhead speakers filling the air with cries of a baby that was in it's carseat with a family and the other car held three or four teenagers all badly mangled. The father in the minivan attempted to make a 911 call prior to his death.
Next, we moved to the crack house where we were also seated in the same fashion. Facing a filthy room with papers and food and cans and clothes strewn about. I must say I wanted to vomit. Then I wanted to get a broom and a bottle of 409 and start cleaning up that fucking nasty ass mess. There was what looked to be a pregnant girl moaning and writhing on a bed as if she were in labor. There was a young man and a young boy on a couch doing lines and hitting a bong. There was a middle-aged woman cooking up some dope on a hotplate. There were two crackheads interacting with the audience. One adult female and one teenage boy. I figured OK, I am here I may as well make the most of it and play along when the boy got in my face and can I just say I really do wish I would have had a stick of Dentyne for him. His shit was kickin'!! He was in my face, almost touching noses, and asking for a pill. "Do you have a pill". I told him I have two pills. He kept saying that he needed a pill and hounding me for the pill. I kept telling him no I am not sharing. He then says in a desperate whiny voice, "C'mon, give the poor black boy a pill". I ended with, "the poor white girl don't share her stash"! At one point his taunting and my taunting back was so funny Amber busted out in laughter and he moved into her face and screamed at her asking what was so funny.
We went into a room standing on a wall where a gang of girls with pipes and bats came at the audience and actually pulled someone from the line and proceeded to kick the shit out of her. Of course, this girl in line was an actor so I am sure she is just fine and chillin' at the Chic-Fil-A with her peeps today! I do believe that it would have been more effective to use a gang of boys but that is just me. I wasn't really intimated so I am guessing that is where my age plays a part.
The next tragedy led us into a cutely decorated girls room where we were to stand as close to the TV that was playing a girls videotaped suicide message. In the back of the room we hear a bang and a clink and look to see a young girl slumped over in a mushroom chair, gun lying on the floor.
The following room was open and appeared to be that of a graveside scene. Another TV screen to watch what appeared to be the stories of lives lost to suicide.
Next we are led into some type of simulated elevator that was filled with "little demons" lurking throughout. They just looked like a bunch of emo kids auditioning for a part in this year's haunted house.
We stepped off of the elevator and walked through a corridor that led us into a room where we saw a large cage with a man inside strapped to a cross. The man was being chased out of this room by two men with whips dragging the cross on his back. That little fucker nearly took my toenail off with that thing. I think they misjudged the distance they needed between the exit and the audience. I am real glad I didn't have any of them fancy Lee press-on deals. Someone in the cast would be sacrificing five bucks!
We were then led to a room where we were facing "Jesus on a cross". Besides the car crash scene this was definitely the most graphic. He had his back turned to us and there were two rather barbaric looking men standing below taunting him and slapping his foot with a whip. This actor was thin and did a fantastic job heaving with each breath so that you could count his ribs. I do hope he gets a big Hollywood gig! He was then turned to face us and breathed in and out and in and out until he took his last breath. One of the barbaric men did refer to him as a "Jew" but not once did I hear the offensive "stupid Jew" that my daughter described. Maybe they got wind of me and knew they better clean up their act before Mama got there!
Now seated in front of a TV where were asked to watch a small film by a "preacher". The film had background music and told a story with words at the bottom of the screen of a train master that had a son and the son loved trains. The train master knew of the people that rode his train, the good and the bad. He was faced with the decision when his son fell below the drawbridge to pull the lever and lower the bridge to save the train full of people and sacrifice his son or save his son and the people be damned. He chose the train. After the video the "preacher stood up and recapped the story we had just watched strategically placing comparisons of the train master to God. He then asked everyone to bow their heads in prayer. I didn't bow mine. Not out of disrespect or that I don't believe in the same God but because I wanted to look around the room to see how many puppets had their heads down. There were nearly 30 people in our group, a very diverse group, in age, gender and ethnicity and you cannot tell me that not one of those people were a non-believer of "his" Christ. However, all heads were down.
This was the end of the reality theater. We were then escorted to a huge room with tables arranged in rows. We were directed to go sit with a particular "counselor". I looked around the room and wondered why all these people are seated with one counselor and I am being double-teamed. Yes, that is right. I was directed to sit with two women. Who proceeded with passion and conviction to teach me of their Lord. I listened intently and questioned frequently. I did ask the question, "What religion is this". They skirted all the way around that one. The matronly looking woman who was doing most of the talking finally stated that the pair of them were Pentecostal but would not confess the religion of the "the 99". Believe me I tried with my untiring wit to get that answer. These are well trained professionals! I also asked the other burning question "Why isn't it advertised that this is a religious event and how am I supposed to feel if I were an Atheist walking into this to be blind-sided". She totally side-stepped and back-peddaled and gave me some very diplomatic answers. Things like this is not a religious event we just want to give all people from all walks the chance to change their lives. She tried her best to "save" me. I just wanted more information. So, I kept with the questions. I asked if I would be allowed to go to the bar on Saturday night or would I go to hell. She assured me, and with an example too, that if I take Jesus into my heart that I would not want to go into that bar. I told her point blank and in no uncertain terms I will never not want to go to the bar. The other lady in the pink must have began to feel guilty because she perked up and said a little wine is good for you, it is good for the stomach. Tell me about! It has increased the love in my stomach by 20 pounds! I asked about suicide when she said that "God" will allow all into heaven that ask. I said, "what about people who kill themselves?". She couldn't answer that one very well so she said she knew a person who did and started with the emphatic hand motions further explaining that she couldn't deal with the sadness so she had to give it to God to decide. She just let it go. OK, I don't know how that answered my question but I was so enthralled with the jackassery at this point that I had to keep the conversation going. This is by far the best, she said that if you take Jesus into your heart that you too can heal people. Her example, you ask? She actually said that by touching my friends head I can relieve her of the headache that is plaguing her. SUPER! I am soooo glad I didn't waste 8 years in medical school; and who knew we have no further need for Tylenol. I will never be able to use the "headache excuse" with my husband again if he catches wind of this gift! I was getting tired of listening to her and not really getting the answers that I was seeking and I was really needing a cigarette BAD. I decided to end the conversation by re-answering the first question she asked me when I sat down. "What was the most moving part of the production?". My first answer was nothing moved me. I changed my answer, I told her that she was what moved me, that she was so motivational in her speaking abilities that she should travel the country and speak at conventions where she could earn a stack of cash. She said she does it all for love. She doesn't need any monetary reward. Then she started crying. Yes, I moved the mover....to tears. Most of you know that I am not a touchy-feely person so when she proceeded to lean forward as if she were going to grasp my hand or hug me I stopped her right there with this statement. "I am not a touchy feely person and I don't know if you are wanting a hug or something but people don't touch me. I am sorry I made you cry". She continued on her crusade to save my soul for a few more minutes before I told her that I had to leave, my kids were waiting for me. She insisted there is no time for me to decide if I want to accept Jesus into my life because I never know what is going to happen to me. I told the pair of them they could pray for me as I walked away. I am thinking that Grandma Biscuits should refill her prescription for tasty Lexapro STAT!
At the exit you can purchase "the 99" paraphernalia. T-shirts, key chains and the like, however they do not accept love as a form of payment.
To recap, there was no smooth transition between the dangers faced by teens and the soul salvation campaign. I was not personally offended by any of the content but that is not to say that someone who doesn't follow those same beliefs would not be caught off guard or even offended. I do believe I would have been confused by "how did I just go from this to this" had I not had prior knowledge. They did a great job of concealing the fact that 4 rooms are based on statistics of deaths among our youth and that the other rooms were just church. I really didn't gain anything from the experience but a few laughs and something to write about.
I had the opportunity to visit "The 99" for myself. I found that it was not nearly as traumatic an event as I had created in my mind after hearing Dani's account. Perhaps, it was because I am older than their targeted audience of ages of 11 to 24. Perhaps, it is because I am not easily swayed. Or may even be because I am well medicated. Most likely it is just perception.
I agreed to take my niece Amber and her friend was already there waiting for her when we arrived. We stood in a roped off line in the mall parking lot where there was a pizza vendor to one side and a mobile sound stage to the the other. I did my best to go into it with a totally open mind, merely as an observer and having no opinion falling on either side of the religion debate. There was a mass amount of security inside and outside of the event. At the entrance of the line were two male security officers that were passing out tickets to a separate event happening sometime in the future. One of the men clearly stated it was a Christian event when I asked what the tickets were for. He made no mention that the event we were standing in line for was going to be one as well. A band was playing when we first approached. Amber said it was a Christian rock group but for all the screaming this band was doing I could not decipher one word they said. Had I not been told of this band I still would not make any kind of religious connection. The band took a break and they began playing dance music and a very spunky and way to energetic for 90 degree heat, ceremony leader began "pumping" the crowd. Urging us to walk out of the ropes to do dances like "Cha-cha Slide" and "Cupid Shuffle". He was very motivational, and truth be told, a lot of fun to watch. They even made up a dance called the "Shower Dance" and asked for volunteers to come out and learn it. Just a side note, if I ever figure out this little camera thing on the top of my laptop screen and get the bazongas to ever Vlog, I assure you that you will learn the shower dance too!
As we got closer to the entrance we saw a TV screen posted displaying the rules. Most were what you would expect at any type of amusement park, concert or other event. There was no warning that you were about to enter a spiritual awakening. They did list that "the actors may touch you but you may not touch the actors". So of course, that was your warning that you may be accosted. Ass covered. They also prohibited cameras cell phones or recording devices. At this point we were directed to a table where you were asked to write down your contact information and check agree that you have read the warning. The warning basically stated that the 99 was a reality walk through theater that would dramatize the leading causes of death among youth based on statistics. Next, we were separated by gender to walk through a security check where males were scanned with a wand by a male security guard and the females were scanned by a female. My lighter was confiscated and tagged for later pick-up. I almost forgot to retrieve that little sucker!
We entered the first room which was a lighted room with pictures of wrecked cars and before and after mugshots of methheads. There was a TV playing but the audio was so poor and the screaming from other rooms only separated by a canvas tarp was so loud it was hard to decipher what it was saying.
We were led into a darkened room where there was a cage in the direct center. The lights went dark and you could not see anything and then when they came back on there was a demon or something in the cage and the devil placed in the corner spouting things like your bad choices will take you to hell. I only caught bits of what he was saying because again, the audio was of poor quality.
We moved to the next room which was led by someone dressed as the grim reaper and referred to as our spirit guide. We were seated in a single file line in front of a recreation of a fatal car accident. There were overhead speakers filling the air with cries of a baby that was in it's carseat with a family and the other car held three or four teenagers all badly mangled. The father in the minivan attempted to make a 911 call prior to his death.
Next, we moved to the crack house where we were also seated in the same fashion. Facing a filthy room with papers and food and cans and clothes strewn about. I must say I wanted to vomit. Then I wanted to get a broom and a bottle of 409 and start cleaning up that fucking nasty ass mess. There was what looked to be a pregnant girl moaning and writhing on a bed as if she were in labor. There was a young man and a young boy on a couch doing lines and hitting a bong. There was a middle-aged woman cooking up some dope on a hotplate. There were two crackheads interacting with the audience. One adult female and one teenage boy. I figured OK, I am here I may as well make the most of it and play along when the boy got in my face and can I just say I really do wish I would have had a stick of Dentyne for him. His shit was kickin'!! He was in my face, almost touching noses, and asking for a pill. "Do you have a pill". I told him I have two pills. He kept saying that he needed a pill and hounding me for the pill. I kept telling him no I am not sharing. He then says in a desperate whiny voice, "C'mon, give the poor black boy a pill". I ended with, "the poor white girl don't share her stash"! At one point his taunting and my taunting back was so funny Amber busted out in laughter and he moved into her face and screamed at her asking what was so funny.
We went into a room standing on a wall where a gang of girls with pipes and bats came at the audience and actually pulled someone from the line and proceeded to kick the shit out of her. Of course, this girl in line was an actor so I am sure she is just fine and chillin' at the Chic-Fil-A with her peeps today! I do believe that it would have been more effective to use a gang of boys but that is just me. I wasn't really intimated so I am guessing that is where my age plays a part.
The next tragedy led us into a cutely decorated girls room where we were to stand as close to the TV that was playing a girls videotaped suicide message. In the back of the room we hear a bang and a clink and look to see a young girl slumped over in a mushroom chair, gun lying on the floor.
The following room was open and appeared to be that of a graveside scene. Another TV screen to watch what appeared to be the stories of lives lost to suicide.
Next we are led into some type of simulated elevator that was filled with "little demons" lurking throughout. They just looked like a bunch of emo kids auditioning for a part in this year's haunted house.
We stepped off of the elevator and walked through a corridor that led us into a room where we saw a large cage with a man inside strapped to a cross. The man was being chased out of this room by two men with whips dragging the cross on his back. That little fucker nearly took my toenail off with that thing. I think they misjudged the distance they needed between the exit and the audience. I am real glad I didn't have any of them fancy Lee press-on deals. Someone in the cast would be sacrificing five bucks!
We were then led to a room where we were facing "Jesus on a cross". Besides the car crash scene this was definitely the most graphic. He had his back turned to us and there were two rather barbaric looking men standing below taunting him and slapping his foot with a whip. This actor was thin and did a fantastic job heaving with each breath so that you could count his ribs. I do hope he gets a big Hollywood gig! He was then turned to face us and breathed in and out and in and out until he took his last breath. One of the barbaric men did refer to him as a "Jew" but not once did I hear the offensive "stupid Jew" that my daughter described. Maybe they got wind of me and knew they better clean up their act before Mama got there!
Now seated in front of a TV where were asked to watch a small film by a "preacher". The film had background music and told a story with words at the bottom of the screen of a train master that had a son and the son loved trains. The train master knew of the people that rode his train, the good and the bad. He was faced with the decision when his son fell below the drawbridge to pull the lever and lower the bridge to save the train full of people and sacrifice his son or save his son and the people be damned. He chose the train. After the video the "preacher stood up and recapped the story we had just watched strategically placing comparisons of the train master to God. He then asked everyone to bow their heads in prayer. I didn't bow mine. Not out of disrespect or that I don't believe in the same God but because I wanted to look around the room to see how many puppets had their heads down. There were nearly 30 people in our group, a very diverse group, in age, gender and ethnicity and you cannot tell me that not one of those people were a non-believer of "his" Christ. However, all heads were down.
This was the end of the reality theater. We were then escorted to a huge room with tables arranged in rows. We were directed to go sit with a particular "counselor". I looked around the room and wondered why all these people are seated with one counselor and I am being double-teamed. Yes, that is right. I was directed to sit with two women. Who proceeded with passion and conviction to teach me of their Lord. I listened intently and questioned frequently. I did ask the question, "What religion is this". They skirted all the way around that one. The matronly looking woman who was doing most of the talking finally stated that the pair of them were Pentecostal but would not confess the religion of the "the 99". Believe me I tried with my untiring wit to get that answer. These are well trained professionals! I also asked the other burning question "Why isn't it advertised that this is a religious event and how am I supposed to feel if I were an Atheist walking into this to be blind-sided". She totally side-stepped and back-peddaled and gave me some very diplomatic answers. Things like this is not a religious event we just want to give all people from all walks the chance to change their lives. She tried her best to "save" me. I just wanted more information. So, I kept with the questions. I asked if I would be allowed to go to the bar on Saturday night or would I go to hell. She assured me, and with an example too, that if I take Jesus into my heart that I would not want to go into that bar. I told her point blank and in no uncertain terms I will never not want to go to the bar. The other lady in the pink must have began to feel guilty because she perked up and said a little wine is good for you, it is good for the stomach. Tell me about! It has increased the love in my stomach by 20 pounds! I asked about suicide when she said that "God" will allow all into heaven that ask. I said, "what about people who kill themselves?". She couldn't answer that one very well so she said she knew a person who did and started with the emphatic hand motions further explaining that she couldn't deal with the sadness so she had to give it to God to decide. She just let it go. OK, I don't know how that answered my question but I was so enthralled with the jackassery at this point that I had to keep the conversation going. This is by far the best, she said that if you take Jesus into your heart that you too can heal people. Her example, you ask? She actually said that by touching my friends head I can relieve her of the headache that is plaguing her. SUPER! I am soooo glad I didn't waste 8 years in medical school; and who knew we have no further need for Tylenol. I will never be able to use the "headache excuse" with my husband again if he catches wind of this gift! I was getting tired of listening to her and not really getting the answers that I was seeking and I was really needing a cigarette BAD. I decided to end the conversation by re-answering the first question she asked me when I sat down. "What was the most moving part of the production?". My first answer was nothing moved me. I changed my answer, I told her that she was what moved me, that she was so motivational in her speaking abilities that she should travel the country and speak at conventions where she could earn a stack of cash. She said she does it all for love. She doesn't need any monetary reward. Then she started crying. Yes, I moved the mover....to tears. Most of you know that I am not a touchy-feely person so when she proceeded to lean forward as if she were going to grasp my hand or hug me I stopped her right there with this statement. "I am not a touchy feely person and I don't know if you are wanting a hug or something but people don't touch me. I am sorry I made you cry". She continued on her crusade to save my soul for a few more minutes before I told her that I had to leave, my kids were waiting for me. She insisted there is no time for me to decide if I want to accept Jesus into my life because I never know what is going to happen to me. I told the pair of them they could pray for me as I walked away. I am thinking that Grandma Biscuits should refill her prescription for tasty Lexapro STAT!
At the exit you can purchase "the 99" paraphernalia. T-shirts, key chains and the like, however they do not accept love as a form of payment.
To recap, there was no smooth transition between the dangers faced by teens and the soul salvation campaign. I was not personally offended by any of the content but that is not to say that someone who doesn't follow those same beliefs would not be caught off guard or even offended. I do believe I would have been confused by "how did I just go from this to this" had I not had prior knowledge. They did a great job of concealing the fact that 4 rooms are based on statistics of deaths among our youth and that the other rooms were just church. I really didn't gain anything from the experience but a few laughs and something to write about.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
The Kindness of A Stranger
What a good day. OK, a small piece of it was good (I will get to that in a moment), most of it was spent nursing a hangover. UGHHH. Yes, I know. It was a Tuesday night. Not a usual occurrence but my favorite Sister-in-Law called me last night feeling kind of blue about a situation in her life and said she wanted to come hang with Beau and I...she would bring the wine. And, Oh Mylanta did she ever! I was finally introduced to that fancy schmancy boxed wine that is all the rage. She brought a Riesling and it was really pretty tasty. I will sometimes sit and have a glass or two watching Grey's Anatomy or the like but the heat must have made us really thirsty because we sipped and sipped. Many glasses. Talking but mostly laughing our asses off about anything and everything until 3:00am. It was great but I sure felt it this morning/afternoon/evening. Note to self: Buffy is a bad influence.
I always go on and on about how great my friends are and what nice thing my sister has just done but you don't get the opportunity very often to be touched by the kindness of a stranger. Who is this stranger and what was the kindness? She is One Crazy Mama and she gave me a HUGE shout out on her blog and said some really nice things. I didn't ask her to, she just did it. It was better than when the trash is full and the boy just takes it out without me nagging!! So I want everyone to go check her out and tell her what a nice thing that was!! Please and Thank You :)
I always go on and on about how great my friends are and what nice thing my sister has just done but you don't get the opportunity very often to be touched by the kindness of a stranger. Who is this stranger and what was the kindness? She is One Crazy Mama and she gave me a HUGE shout out on her blog and said some really nice things. I didn't ask her to, she just did it. It was better than when the trash is full and the boy just takes it out without me nagging!! So I want everyone to go check her out and tell her what a nice thing that was!! Please and Thank You :)
Ask Arlee
Do you know about my other blog? It is fairly new and is dependent upon reader participation. So, whada ya say? Won't ya help a sister out? Check out Ask Arlee.
Do you have burning questions? Or burning urination?
The one-stop shop for free advice on any subject from what color you should paint your bathroom to how to terminate a friendship. I am not a Doctor, Therapist, PhD of any sort and I have no formal training on any one subject. What I do have is a wheel barrow of experience from which I can draw.
What is your major malfunction?
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
As Seen On TV
I watch a lot of TV. Commercials too. I just love commercials! Have you ever seen the one for Enzyte, the natural male enhancement? It usually is played over and over in the wee hours. The Santa-Bob is my favorite. However, I am very troubled with the whole "Bob" concept. First, let me state the obvious. Bob is not attractive. I would not bone him even if I had consumed 6 mixed drinks and a few of those tubie things, hadn't gotten laid in ten years and all of my batteries were dead! Sorry Bob. You're just not my cup of tea, or coffee or whatever the hell beverage you are so flippin' happy about! I would suggest you have your agent contact the folk at Botox, they could fix them wrinkles on your fod real quick and therein lies your next gig! See Bob. I'm lookin' out for a brother!
Could they not find an out of work actor that is not so unfortunate looking to be the face of Enzyte? Maybe this guy....
(I got somethin' you can slap)
Anywho, back to the matter at hand. Have you ever really watched the Santa Bob commercial? I have been to many a company Christmas party and there is never a chubby Bob. There are, however, many a drunk female saying some outlandish shit. Not once have I ever seen a bunch of these hens clucking about any "Bob's" package and desperately standing in line to sit on said Bob. I am going to go out on a limb and say the chick with the garland is going to be the lucky gal! I wonder what Gloria Allred would have to say about this? She has to be pissin' in her Cheerios trying to figure out how to turn these wanker-hungry hookers into some highly publicized womens' lib bullhockey!
Did I mention...I love TV?
Anywho, back to the matter at hand. Have you ever really watched the Santa Bob commercial? I have been to many a company Christmas party and there is never a chubby Bob. There are, however, many a drunk female saying some outlandish shit. Not once have I ever seen a bunch of these hens clucking about any "Bob's" package and desperately standing in line to sit on said Bob. I am going to go out on a limb and say the chick with the garland is going to be the lucky gal! I wonder what Gloria Allred would have to say about this? She has to be pissin' in her Cheerios trying to figure out how to turn these wanker-hungry hookers into some highly publicized womens' lib bullhockey!
Did I mention...I love TV?
Monday, June 21, 2010
$h!t I Won't Buy
I have found a new obsession! I wish it were the treadmill or the need to beat that silly, beady-headed boy on Wii Fit that thinks he is being inspirational when he says, "C'mon" waving at me like he knows I can do it, it is not. You suck donkey balls you little, taunting avatar! It is blogging. Or more specifically, reading them. It has even diminished my professional facebooking abilities. I can't stop looking for and reading new blogs. I even concluded that I would stop playing my facebook games in exchange for more blog time. There are some I really, really like and I even get a bit disappointed where there is no new entry today.
Everyday, I find out something new. Apparently, there is money in blogging and it comes in the form of advertising, product reviews and the like. So I get to thinking...hmmm. Could I write a product review? Perhaps. I think, who would I appeal to? Who is my audience? Who would want a loon to endorse their product? Prozac? One never knows. Then my manic brain goes racing in a different direction. I can't come up with a list of things I would like to review, however, there are some I wouldn't want to. Below is my thought bubble in list form.
Everyday, I find out something new. Apparently, there is money in blogging and it comes in the form of advertising, product reviews and the like. So I get to thinking...hmmm. Could I write a product review? Perhaps. I think, who would I appeal to? Who is my audience? Who would want a loon to endorse their product? Prozac? One never knows. Then my manic brain goes racing in a different direction. I can't come up with a list of things I would like to review, however, there are some I wouldn't want to. Below is my thought bubble in list form.
- Magnesium Citrate. Negative. I like structure and planning so I have no desire to take an unscheduled, spontaneous shit.
- Generic mayonnaise. I have tasted it once. There is nothing good that I can say about the lumpy, white, lemon, vinegar slop. I could never condone contaminating a good piece of ham.
- Charmin. I am not a fan of lint balls and I wouldn't blow my nose with the dryer vent so why would I want to cram this fluffy, fuzz in my nostrils?
- Viagra. I would lose contact with a lot of my female friends this way. You know how it is when your friend enters a new relationship? Well, this would be the same concept.
- Those Tampons with no strings or applicators. Gross. Need I elaborate?
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Mailbox Monday
I REALLY wanted to participate in Mailbox Monday with the rest of the cool kids so I forged ahead with my less than tech savvy self (OK, so I'm spittin' Ls, Beau helped) and figured it out. Getting the shared list into my blog entry was a challenge! However, it was like I just won Homecoming Queen when I hit "preview" and it looked all proper and stuff!
Speaking of list, you should really take a moment to visit the sites listed. There are so many neat things. Giveaways and product reviews, not to mention the entertainment value you can find within. I'm tellin' ya, some of these folk should write for Letterman!
Welcome to Mailbox Monday!!
A blog hop to boost your subscriber count!
Hosted by Simply Stacie, This Mama Loves Her Bargains and A little of this A little of that...
Here’s how to join in the fun:
Your blog *must* have a place for people to e-mail subscribe.We will be subscribing to everyone’s blog who participates. If there isn’t an e-mail subscribe option, your link will be removed from the linky.
***New This Week*** The Mailbox Monday Blog of the Week isBelly Charms which takes the #4 spot on the linky. Next week, we will choose from this week’s participants for the Blog of the Week.
Help us spread the word about Mailbox Monday! Write a post for your blog and add the blog hop code.
Here’s how to join in the fun:
- Add your blog link to the linky
- Subscribe by email to the three hostesses. They will return the favour.
- Visit the other blogs on the list and subscribe by email to the ones that interest you. Leave them a comment with your blog link so they know you are subscribing from Mailbox Monday. Don’t forget to confirm your subscription!
Your blog *must* have a place for people to e-mail subscribe.We will be subscribing to everyone’s blog who participates. If there isn’t an e-mail subscribe option, your link will be removed from the linky.
***New This Week*** The Mailbox Monday Blog of the Week isBelly Charms which takes the #4 spot on the linky. Next week, we will choose from this week’s participants for the Blog of the Week.
Help us spread the word about Mailbox Monday! Write a post for your blog and add the blog hop code.
Things That Make You Think
Things that make you think are the best kind of things. There is always room for pie.
My 19 year old daughter called me crying after a trip to the mall. Seems she and two of her friends decided to take in a show. "The 99" as it is called, moves from state to state in an effort to educate people. To demonstrate how someone's bad choices can impact lives. What they don't tell you is that after you have the opportunity to view the devastating affects of distracted/drunk driving, drug abuse and gang involvement as portrayed by their talented actors that you will then be subjected to a counseling session where you will be asked if you have been saved. If you decline, as did my daugther, you will be condemned and told that you will go to Hell. Dani became very uncomfortable and wanted to leave the sit-down. As she walked away, the woman yelled to her as she walked further and further away, "God bless your poor soul". My problem is not with the spreading of the word of Jesus Christ or introducing anyone whom may be interested to the Bible and all it's teachings. My problem is when this company misrepresents itself by leaving out the important detail that you will be "cornered" by a "Christian" and you will be subjected to condemnation, judgement and ridicule if you do not entertain their "way of thinking" before the "show" is over. She was impressed by the special effects and the graphic nature of the show that really does make you think about what could happen when you engage in risky behaviors but the mood violently changed when she was courted with all of the other patrons onto the elevator that takes you to down to "Hell". She was trembling and terrified. She described countless minutes where they were forced to watch Jesus being killed and hanging from a cross as one actor called out, "Stupid Jew". Can you imagine how you would feel if you were an unwitting, 13 year old Jewish Boy amongst the crowd of viewers? I am not sure that I would have been willing to shell out the $2 admission to be told the "God" I believe in is the wrong one. Of course, there are many organized religions that go out in an effort to "recruit" members but they usually go door to door and you have the choice whether you want to slam the door in their face or politely say, "No Thank You". Dani describes that once you are in the theater "you are stuck". There is no disclosure on the door that explains the show in it's entirety. Our local media ran a story and they report that they were only allowed access to two of the rooms. I wonder why this production company chose those two rooms and left all of the others out?
Watch the video and share your views.
http://www.wlky.com/video/23836140/index.html
My 19 year old daughter called me crying after a trip to the mall. Seems she and two of her friends decided to take in a show. "The 99" as it is called, moves from state to state in an effort to educate people. To demonstrate how someone's bad choices can impact lives. What they don't tell you is that after you have the opportunity to view the devastating affects of distracted/drunk driving, drug abuse and gang involvement as portrayed by their talented actors that you will then be subjected to a counseling session where you will be asked if you have been saved. If you decline, as did my daugther, you will be condemned and told that you will go to Hell. Dani became very uncomfortable and wanted to leave the sit-down. As she walked away, the woman yelled to her as she walked further and further away, "God bless your poor soul". My problem is not with the spreading of the word of Jesus Christ or introducing anyone whom may be interested to the Bible and all it's teachings. My problem is when this company misrepresents itself by leaving out the important detail that you will be "cornered" by a "Christian" and you will be subjected to condemnation, judgement and ridicule if you do not entertain their "way of thinking" before the "show" is over. She was impressed by the special effects and the graphic nature of the show that really does make you think about what could happen when you engage in risky behaviors but the mood violently changed when she was courted with all of the other patrons onto the elevator that takes you to down to "Hell". She was trembling and terrified. She described countless minutes where they were forced to watch Jesus being killed and hanging from a cross as one actor called out, "Stupid Jew". Can you imagine how you would feel if you were an unwitting, 13 year old Jewish Boy amongst the crowd of viewers? I am not sure that I would have been willing to shell out the $2 admission to be told the "God" I believe in is the wrong one. Of course, there are many organized religions that go out in an effort to "recruit" members but they usually go door to door and you have the choice whether you want to slam the door in their face or politely say, "No Thank You". Dani describes that once you are in the theater "you are stuck". There is no disclosure on the door that explains the show in it's entirety. Our local media ran a story and they report that they were only allowed access to two of the rooms. I wonder why this production company chose those two rooms and left all of the others out?
Watch the video and share your views.
http://www.wlky.com/video/23836140/index.html
The account of events are described by my daughter who actually had the opportunity to view the show at a local mall. One of our local media channels covered the story. All opinions belong to me!
Thursday, June 17, 2010
It's All In A Name
Did you know that I hate my name? Well, I do. I have always hated it. I have to admit, after 37 years I am finally getting used to it. Oh, but you don't know the trouble it has caused me in this lifetime.
I asked my Mom why in the world would she ever give me such a ridiculous name. I mean, I was born a redhead and all the ridicule and mockery that entails. Was my imminent teenage torture nowhere in that hospital room that November day? So why in heaven's name would you bestow upon me such a curse? Her answer, you ask? "Sissy, your crazy. That's a good name". UMMM Yeah, you can't even say it. It is awkward to even pronounce. Crap! It's not even a real name!
(Yep, not in here)
My Dad's name was Donald and I am to assume they were hoping for a boy.
I have worked many a job where I have had customer contact; typically, over the phone. And this is how the conversation usually goes:
Me: This is Donda, how may I help you?
X: What'd ya say your name was?
Me: Donda.
X: What is it again?
Me: Donda
X: Well that's unusual, I haven't heard that one before.
Me: Yes, it's homemade.
X: How do you spell that?
Me: D-O-N-D-A
X: Spell that again.
Me: D as in Dumbass, O as in Oh My God, N as in your a Nimrod, D as in ...and still a Dumbass, A as in Assclown, I am really tired of this, got it now?
I have seen every variation of my name that could be possibly written in the English language. Then there are those funny people like my best friend's uncle growing up. Dezi and I would babysit for him and at some point he decided it would be funny to call us Dizzy and Dumbda. Nice going Unc! Way to damage a fragile teen ego!
This may possibly be the worst! In seventh grade we watched Ghandi in one of our classes. One of the popular boys, probably one of the cutest boys in all of seventh grade as I remember, decided that from that point going forward I would come to be known as Mohandus Dondi. Super funny! Not sure where you are these day but I do hope you have a harry back and your knuckles drag the concrete!
My sister calls me Donka. I hate when she does that. Especially, when we are out in public and she will scream across the store aisle or the bar room or where ever. She also thinks it is humorous to post the rubbish on my facebook wall. I think she thinks I am supposed to answer to that. However, the repetition must be working though because sometimes I do! The name originated sometime in the late 80's. I was known to sport the occasional side ponytail. Donka is now synonymous with said ponytail. Oddly, there are no photos to be had of me kickin' the Donka!
Can I call you that? Not if you expect me to respond!
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Coupons, Dishes and Hiccups
Today has been a very active day. It started out with me making the ill decision to take the girls along to the grocery in hopes that I would teach them how to bargain shop, calculate and the beauty of coupons. They were gung-ho and equal to the task...at first. I, typically, do the shopping myself but they have been out of school for about two weeks and getting bored. Haylee was the appointed basket-pusher and Avery was the coupon/list holder. They got tired of the nonsense around the milk aisle. I don't blame them as that is where I start to lose momentum too. After an hour and a half I decided that they really don't need to learn the value of a dollar until they are at least teenagers! In the check-out I became that woman. You know the one. The one that has two baskets and a trillion coupons and there is always some kind of hold up that you can't really decipher from five carts back. I had three coupons totally $2.50 that wouldn't go through the automatic verification on the scanner. My "Mrs. Dash" coupon actually told the cashier that I had "too many coupons". Is there such a thing? I don't think so! The other two wouldn't ring up claiming "item not purchased". So what do I do? I simply said, "Oh, we can empty these bags, I have no problem with that. But the lady behind me might." waving back at the impatient, middle-aged woman standing way too close. Her husband soon walked over and asked her (in earshot), "what's going on?" She said, "coupons". UMMM...Yes Bitch! Coupons. Yes, If I can save three bones on a 400 dollar order I will! My husband works hard for our money and we are right above the poverty line so Captain-Save-a-HO (aka US Government) can't help me! Don't you watch the news, we are a country in crisis! Funny, she didn't look like the type to wipe her ass with 20s but one never knows!
Mandi stopped by tonight and we cooked out, consumed a moderate amount of adult beverages and laughed our ample asses off! I now know the true meaning of "functioning alcoholic". After Mandi and Josh went home and the girls were tucked snugly into bed, I proceeded to clean the kitchen. The same one that had just fed nine people and blended many a frozen drink. Praise Jesus for my dishwasher! I do not know how those folk managed beating the shit on a rock down at the creek for all those years!
I got a case of the hiccups that I could not get rid of. After trying all of the usual home remedies, I had to Google "how to get rid of the hiccups". I clicked on the first link and it happened to be www.howtogetridofstuff.com Do you know what that shit said? Well, let me tell ya! "Plug your nose and ears and swallow 20 times as fast as possible". I have two hands. How do you suppose I do that? I know, let me run on down to the candy factory real quick and round me up some Umpa Lumpas to assist in your asinine process! Oh and by the way, it didn't work either!
Mandi stopped by tonight and we cooked out, consumed a moderate amount of adult beverages and laughed our ample asses off! I now know the true meaning of "functioning alcoholic". After Mandi and Josh went home and the girls were tucked snugly into bed, I proceeded to clean the kitchen. The same one that had just fed nine people and blended many a frozen drink. Praise Jesus for my dishwasher! I do not know how those folk managed beating the shit on a rock down at the creek for all those years!
I got a case of the hiccups that I could not get rid of. After trying all of the usual home remedies, I had to Google "how to get rid of the hiccups". I clicked on the first link and it happened to be www.howtogetridofstuff.com Do you know what that shit said? Well, let me tell ya! "Plug your nose and ears and swallow 20 times as fast as possible". I have two hands. How do you suppose I do that? I know, let me run on down to the candy factory real quick and round me up some Umpa Lumpas to assist in your asinine process! Oh and by the way, it didn't work either!
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Ask Arlee
Do you have burning questions? Or burning urination? I can help!www.askarlee.blogspot.com
The one-stop shop for free advice on any subject from what color you should paint your bathroom to how to terminate a friendship. I am not a Doctor, Therapist, PhD of any sort and I have no formal training on any one subject. What I do have is a wheel barrow of experience from which I can draw.
Send your question to askarlee@gmail.com. Your questions will be posted to the blog anonymously. So feel free to ask any of your most burning questions. I will answer them to the best of my ability and with an appropriate level of seriousness, sincerity and wit.
Big, Confusing Blogosphere
I wasn't going to write today; just read. I jumped around from blog to blog and I must say I have found some really good ones lately. There are many very talented writers in the Blogosphere. Blogs that tug at my heart strings. Ones that make me laugh my pineapple-upside-down ass off. Some where I find cool ideas to entertain the kids. Ones that make me think. Hell, some even have giveaways. You can join a blog hop where you can find other blogs that fit your interests while getting a bit of exposure for your own.
So I am looking at all of these other blogs and I think, "WOW! I want to be a super blogger too"! I want to make people think. I want to provoke a reaction. I want to offer something up that could touch someone's life in some small way. But, then I examine it more closely and it all just seems a bit overwhelming. There are terms and conditions. There are commitments. I am not a computer guru, per say. I do good to navigate my facebook page. I either have to Google to find my answer about what such and such means or ask my husband, who is a computer guru, and he talks down to me like I am an idiot and I should just know how to write a java script for a backlink. So I start following blog A and I have to jump to blog B and then I have to twit my twat over to Twitter to tweet a linky about Blog D. Not to mention, you can only link up on Friday or Tuesday and you must be wearing green underwear and you have to grab a button and cut and paste the linky to your Twinkie. It's just all so confusing. Do I really want to win that handy dandy Rubbermaid desk organizer that badly?
Until I can pick up a copy of "Blogging for Dummies" I will have to be content with just being a writer.
So I am looking at all of these other blogs and I think, "WOW! I want to be a super blogger too"! I want to make people think. I want to provoke a reaction. I want to offer something up that could touch someone's life in some small way. But, then I examine it more closely and it all just seems a bit overwhelming. There are terms and conditions. There are commitments. I am not a computer guru, per say. I do good to navigate my facebook page. I either have to Google to find my answer about what such and such means or ask my husband, who is a computer guru, and he talks down to me like I am an idiot and I should just know how to write a java script for a backlink. So I start following blog A and I have to jump to blog B and then I have to twit my twat over to Twitter to tweet a linky about Blog D. Not to mention, you can only link up on Friday or Tuesday and you must be wearing green underwear and you have to grab a button and cut and paste the linky to your Twinkie. It's just all so confusing. Do I really want to win that handy dandy Rubbermaid desk organizer that badly?
Until I can pick up a copy of "Blogging for Dummies" I will have to be content with just being a writer.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
100th Post and Chain Reactions
THIS IS MY 100TH POST! Happy, happy, joy, joy! I was trying to reach 100 followers by my 100th post but that did not come to fruition. Tis OK, gives me something to continue to strive for. Since this is my 100th post I want to make it an important one and, coincidentally, it will be relatable to today's events.
I am happy with my life. For the first time in my life I feel like I am where I am supposed to be; I fit.
Have you ever watched "The Butterfly Effect" and reflected upon your life and realized that one event was the cause of the next, and then the next? I do. I did today on the drive home from my friend, Monica's daughter's Graduation Party. I have been friends with Monica since first grade. She always reminds me that she didn't know why that little redheaded girl was crying and then we giggle. We went to middle school together and then on to high school. We had all kinds of adventures and misadventures (one day I will document said misadventures). We have worked together and we were pregnant together. We have lost touch over the years for a few years at a time (before facebook connecting long distance wasn't so easy) but we would always get back in touch.
So, going on the theory of cause and effect she has been instrumental in my current happiness. She probably doesn't even realize how important of a role she has played in my life as I just put it all together myself. And this is why...
In 1990, fresh out of high school I managed to get myself pregnant. Well, obviously, I didn't get myself pregnant. I decided to lay down with a friend from high school and for the most part I probably couldn't have picked a better person to get pregnant by at 17. He was a good Dad for the majority of Dani's "growing up" years. But he wasn't present during my pregnancy and I was still living at home....with my raging, alcoholic father. I was able to successfully hide my pregnancy for six months. But the time came that I knew if I didn't get out I and/or my baby would be dead. Now, maybe that was my BiPolar paranoia at work and everything would have been just fine but at the time that was my thinking of the situation. So I had to go. This is where Monica comes in. She introduced me to my first husband. He was a friend of her boyfriend's sister. She picked me up and all of my stuff and drove me to what would become my new home and my new life. He was a maintenance man at an apartment complex and had an extra room. I moved in with him in January of 1991 and soon moved into his bed. We were married shortly after. He raised Dani as his own and five years later we had Alex. The ENTIRE time we were married he cheated on me. Of course, I never had proof and I am one of those people "you have to see it to believe it". Even though I knew, I didn't know. So I stayed. In 1997, I was at one of my lowest points. He had a friend on the fire department where he volunteered. Dan was married to Julie. Julie had a computer. She introduced me to AOL and chatrooms. I found a cheap computer at a flea market and taught myself the ins and outs of it. I figured out how to connect the phone line to the box thingy and I was soon on my way to meeting Beau.
So you see, if it were not for Monica I would not be in the life that I am today. I would not have the Alex or Haylee or Avery. I could possibly be strung out on drugs. Still in Portland. Hell, I could be dead. I could really sit all day and what if but why? Everything is finally the way it should be.
I am happy with my life. For the first time in my life I feel like I am where I am supposed to be; I fit.
Have you ever watched "The Butterfly Effect" and reflected upon your life and realized that one event was the cause of the next, and then the next? I do. I did today on the drive home from my friend, Monica's daughter's Graduation Party. I have been friends with Monica since first grade. She always reminds me that she didn't know why that little redheaded girl was crying and then we giggle. We went to middle school together and then on to high school. We had all kinds of adventures and misadventures (one day I will document said misadventures). We have worked together and we were pregnant together. We have lost touch over the years for a few years at a time (before facebook connecting long distance wasn't so easy) but we would always get back in touch.
So, going on the theory of cause and effect she has been instrumental in my current happiness. She probably doesn't even realize how important of a role she has played in my life as I just put it all together myself. And this is why...
In 1990, fresh out of high school I managed to get myself pregnant. Well, obviously, I didn't get myself pregnant. I decided to lay down with a friend from high school and for the most part I probably couldn't have picked a better person to get pregnant by at 17. He was a good Dad for the majority of Dani's "growing up" years. But he wasn't present during my pregnancy and I was still living at home....with my raging, alcoholic father. I was able to successfully hide my pregnancy for six months. But the time came that I knew if I didn't get out I and/or my baby would be dead. Now, maybe that was my BiPolar paranoia at work and everything would have been just fine but at the time that was my thinking of the situation. So I had to go. This is where Monica comes in. She introduced me to my first husband. He was a friend of her boyfriend's sister. She picked me up and all of my stuff and drove me to what would become my new home and my new life. He was a maintenance man at an apartment complex and had an extra room. I moved in with him in January of 1991 and soon moved into his bed. We were married shortly after. He raised Dani as his own and five years later we had Alex. The ENTIRE time we were married he cheated on me. Of course, I never had proof and I am one of those people "you have to see it to believe it". Even though I knew, I didn't know. So I stayed. In 1997, I was at one of my lowest points. He had a friend on the fire department where he volunteered. Dan was married to Julie. Julie had a computer. She introduced me to AOL and chatrooms. I found a cheap computer at a flea market and taught myself the ins and outs of it. I figured out how to connect the phone line to the box thingy and I was soon on my way to meeting Beau.
So you see, if it were not for Monica I would not be in the life that I am today. I would not have the Alex or Haylee or Avery. I could possibly be strung out on drugs. Still in Portland. Hell, I could be dead. I could really sit all day and what if but why? Everything is finally the way it should be.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Pleasing Noise
Please remain seated until ride comes to a complete stop. That is where the recent bout of insomnia is leading me to. That roller coaster. I know this because today when I flipped the 80's music on cable channel 875, I sang along...loudly. I sounded good. OK. Not in real life but in my head. Common sense tells me that I can NOT sing and should NEVER hold a microphone, drunken karaoke or otherwise. But when I get to this "happy manic" everything sounds better. I don't know if I have ever mentioned it or not but I have an auditory sensitivity or some bullcrap. I am hypersensitive to sound when I am manic and I can hear things only a dog can hear. I can hear a portly gentleman from across the street breathing as if he were drowning and gasping for air. Pimp down, pimp in distress! If I couldn't see him and then there's the fact that I know we are on dry land, I would spring into action with my best "Baywatch" mad dash to resuscitate. It is rather annoying for the most part. But when I am the "happy manic" noise is tolerable, better than tolerable. Pleasing.
Speaking of silence. I have been alone the biggest part of the day. Beau took the kids over to his Grandmother's for dinner and then to his Mom's for a dip in the pool. I love "Me time". I decided to forgo the family dinner at the in-laws to deep clean the living room. It's OK, "Me" wanted to. I haven't had the house all to myself very often since the kids were let out for the summer. Actually, before that because Danielle returned home from college on May 6th. Basically, I have not been alone in the house at any given time in over a month. I have not been able to vacuum the sectional in over a month because there are always thirty mothers all laid up on it! So that is what I did; it is crazy-clean now. I read somewhere that 70% of house dust is comprised of human skin cells. If this statistic is true, I have been harboring the population of Rhode Island in my couch cushions.
Not sure what the plan is for the remainder of the night but the silence was short-lived as all the little noise-makers just came home.
Redecorated
Well, I have effectively wasted the past three hours pimping my page. So, what do you think?
Friday, June 11, 2010
Melons? No. Lemons!
The past few days have been pretty decent albeit a little humid for my taste but I would much prefer the heat over the cold any day. I did a total overhaul on the girls' room yesterday including sorting through their hanging clothes which mostly consisted of jeans and school uniforms since I had already packed away their winter clothes. Their shit was jacked! I really don't know how they manage to get it such a mess and it really begs the question, "Do I suffer from OCD?". I don't have to scratch my ass three times and walk in a circle before I sit down to pee but it makes me crazier than Cootie Brown if the Barbies are mixed with the Littlest Pets and if the books are out of size order. Add to that, one of the little crumbs, in the past two weeks and on the sly, decided to have a snack in the top bunk. Barbecue chips to be exact, crunched up on either side of the mattress. I thought my head was going to catch on fire when I climbed up the ladder and pounced my over-sized rear on the mattress to start stripping the sheets and found that mess. I ended up having to dismantle the top bunk just to clean it up properly. Did I mention, I thought my cranium was going to burst into flames? STOP, DROP AND ROLL!
Today was Josh's Birthday so we went to Mandi's for a cook-out. Mandi had a final exam for her Pharmacology class tonight so she was only home for a short time before she had to go, leaving me to tend the grill. The girls swam while I listened to my Brother, Charlee ramble. Think of the funniest person you know. Now, multiply that by 100. Pretty much everything that falls out of his mouth is of some comedic value. I sent Charlee to the linen cabinet in the laundry room to fetch three towels for the girls. When he came back with towels in hand he says, "Man, I just got hooked up on one of Mandi's bras, it was like the hood cover for a Ford Mustang. What in the filth flying filth is that?
Then he proceeds to tell me how he started skipping it like a lemon twister. Being that he has already had several cocktails, he has gout and he is certainly not a bubbly, young school girl the demonstration was quite amusing.
I think I am going to order one of these bad boys off of Ebay!
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
A Little Face Time
I love my Facebook Friends! There is almost always some awesomely witty banter. I have the attention span of a door knob tonight so there will be no mindful, decisive blogging. Instead, here is a sampling of how my days are spent between loads of laundry and dirty dishes.
Nurse Jackie was good and my headache finally went away.
Twitter is cracking me up! I used the friend finder thingy to look for people with BD so I added someone and they sent me this private message "I hope you're following because you like to help people with Bipolar Disorder. Buy the App & 30% of net sales go to charity" with a link attached. Really? Are you sure you don't just want me to buy the App? Joe Blow deleted me LOL
Skimming through the pics I was tagged in from the fest last night with Haylee standing over my shoulder and she asks, "Why are there only old people there?. Lovely.
Useless fact for the night and then I am off to bed. The female bedbug has no sexual opening. To get around this, the male uses his penis to drill a "vagina" into the female also known as traumatic insemination. Much like my first marriage.
You do know the one thing better than fly? Fly errr!
I am willing to bet you are scratching your head wondering why I love my facebook friends!
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