I have a good one, but...

So I'm on a roll thing here with this blogging everyday and I don't want to choke on it like I do everything else and I have a couple of really good blogs on my mind, but...

Today has been a hell day and it is now 1:30 and we know what that means right?

It's the start of my weekend! Pedicure chair, here I come!

Buh Bye!

Love me a good bargain...

The past couple of years we have been very busy updating the inside of the house.  All of the new furniture came from Broyhill and there were a few pieces that we wanted, yet cost was an issue...

A month or so ago Hubby decided that he wanted to get an end table so off we went to the local Broyhill store.  It was closed and every time we drove by it was closed.  There was no signs and the store was full of furniture, curious?  This past Sunday we happened to drive by and there were huge signs saying the store was closing and no offer would be refused... but, they were closed?

Monday night we trekked over there yet again and discovered they were open, woo hoo!  Apparently the stores in our area are a franchise and they have filed bankruptcy so to our good fortune, everything in the store was on sale.  MAJOR sale!  We scored both coffee table and end table to complete our living room for HALF of the original price of just the coffee table!  See:

And the matching end table:

We also were given a great price on the dining room table that we have been coveting.  BUT, there's always a but, since they are selling all of the floor stuff only, the table only has four chairs.  Gotta have more than four chairs.  The hutch that goes with the dining room table also is a little bit out of the price range that I'm willing to cough up and I want a complete set not just one of the pieces.  Would be too hard to match the wood, etc...  So I am thinking about trekking over to the other store in another city to see if they have more chairs and trying to cut a better deal.  I guess we'll just have to wait and see...

Why I did NOT become a nurse...

Way back in the day when I grew up I wanted to be a nurse. I don't think the calling was to 'save lives' or 'heal people', I think the calling was really about the money.

Of course, after being accepted to nursing school and in the process of quitting my full time job, hubby accidentally fell three stories from a building and I became a non-paid nurse maid for about a year. Since I instantly became the sole bread winner and we had a mortgage, a couple of car notes and two kids, quitting was just not an option. So I postponed it and eventually continued to postpone it until it was too late and too much of a distant dream.

I do believe that the Good Lord was sending me a clear message. I was not to become a nurse, it was not the job for me. How do I know that this was the message? I've learned it by several million different ways.

I cannot stand the site of blood, it makes me want to vomit and then pass out - ditto needles. I'm not very compassionate with the sick and the lame, I wish to tell them to 'buck it up and get over it.'

This has been quite evident in the past couple of weeks dealing with the FIL's knee replacement surgery, the impending surgery of the MIL's hernia and today's favorite of all, the 'caregiver' to my mother before, during and after her colonoscopy.

Besides the fact that I had to get up at 4:30 am to pick her up and have her at the surgery center at 6:00 am. And besides the fact that I was actually having to answer questions for her while she completed her paperwork, like why it was necessary to sign her name and then print her name and how exactly she was the 'self' in the relationship to the person signing the form. Actually, that one didn't turn out well, because I said "That would be YOURself" in response to this question and that is exactly what she wrote in the blank - 'yourself' - arghh... and having to explain why all these 'unnecessary' forms were not stupid but important.

There were those things and the part that I was being forced to force her to awake after the surgery and to remember to breathe or they weren't going to let her go home. That and the fact that she kept asking me the same questions over and over and over and I tried to be patient and answer them over and over and over again until I finally just ignored her and she'd fall back asleep. Then there was the pleasure of seeing her completely BUTT naked and having to put her panties on as well as her other clothes. There were ALL of those things that were irritating me and I wasn't very compassionate.

But there was always the worry. The worry that she was really incoherent and babbling nonsense, not just a she's on drugs nonsense, but almost a dementia nonsense that floored me. Then once I got her home and discovered that she had turned the air off because it was 'so cold' yesterday. It was 102 degrees yesterday... and a mere 80 degrees in her house this morning. Also the state of her disarrayed house which is totally out of character since she has always been OCD about a clean house, was disturbing and yet there were tons of dirty dishes stacked in the sink, the counter was filthy and looked like it hadn't been wiped in a long time. The dog food that was scattered all around the kitchen floor, a pair of shoes in every room, the only food in the house was about 20 cans of green beans in the pantry with nothing in the fridge or freezer. These curious things just went on and on. It screamed "SOMETHING IS NOT RIGHT HERE!"

But there was also the fact that even after I finally got her home and in bed, that she couldn't stay awake. ALL. DAY. LONG. Even though I left her alone, which made me physically ill to do, and even though I called the little brother and made him swear to check on her in the afternoon and take her some lunch and even though I called and woke her up two times in 3 hours to 'check' on her, it worried me and made me uneasy and made me realize that I was never cut out to be a nurse. God works in mysterious ways but this mystery has definitely been solved...

The Deck...

Came home yesterday and discovered that the deck was actually, finally, complete.  Just another one of those "1 week" jobs that only took 3 1/2 weeks...  Hubby sure knows how to pick em...  The very best thing about the new deck is that I can walk outside and not have three dogs instantly want to lick me, nose me, or jump on me - heaven...

 

So for your viewing pleasure, a pictorial...

Now don't get me wrong, I love my puppies, I really do, just wish they weren't so loving back sometimes...

Cuervo

Tequila

And Duke

I'm in a quandry...

It appears that some fellow blogee's have had their blogs hacked and their templates eaten... Mine seems okay, but after an exhaustive search I cannot find the website where I stole my cute little template.... Does anyone have any suggestions on where to find these????????

In other non-related news. Weekend was okay, yet tiring and I'm actually glad it's Monday. Well not really, but I'm pretending anyway...

Had a baby shower on Saturday for my sister-in-law and was pretty sure that the time I put on the invite was 1:00 pm-3:00 pm. Because I am the world's biggest procrastinator, I was at the grocery store Saturday at 10 am deciding what to SERVE at said shower. Rushed back to the homestead at 11ish and not only needed to shower and dress, but prepare all food just purchased.

Because I am good under pressure, I was able to get my diva on, prepare the food, clean the house (which I do not do anymore but the cleaning lady failed to show on Thursday, arghhh...) and was sitting waiting at 1:00 pm. And nobody was there, not even the mom-to-be? So I frantically began searching for a copy of the invite to see if a) I had gotten the day wrong or b) I had gotten the time wrong...

Of course I couldn't find it and was beginning to get frantic because of all the food that was sitting out. At 1:20 just when I thought I was going to just scream and call one of the other SIL's she drove up to the house. When I asked her what time I put on the invitation, she said 1:00 but when she drove up and no cars where there she thought she had the wrong date and her girls refused to get out of the car...

So then I called the mom-to-be and she was running late, and I gave her some slack because she is due on Thursday. After that the guests slowing started dragging in, with the last to arrive at 2:30 - HELLO!!!! Which part of 1:00 pm - 3:00 pm did these people not get????? I attribute this all to my in-laws total lack of being able to tell time and the cultural difference, but I shouldn't have to make excuses for them. Totally inconsiderate, the whole lot of them...

I have to pee

YOU: And why are you telling us this?

ME: Because I am trying to make a conscious effort to blog every day, at least every day during the week, until I reach 100 blog entries so I had to say something.

YOU: Why are you doing this?

ME: Who the fuck knows, but I gotta pee, so can I go now?

YOU: (Please fill in the blank)

Can I Quit This Job?

Feeling a bit on the "I'm so tired I could crawl up in the fetal position and die" side of life this week... I know that I am a very 'controlling' person, though I'd like to think of it more like a 'take-charge' kind of person, but when did I get elected to being in charge of everything?

Story A
The FIL had knee replacement surgery last Thursday. I am married to the only son of 6 children. Not sure how that makes me 'in charge' of all things related to his family but I guess since his sisters are either big wusses or bitches, that leaves me, right? So besides ME and the MIL, who else sat in the waiting room during surgery? That would be my husband and his little brother. His little brother is really his nephew, and if you have followed me for a long time you would know that my husband's oldest sister, whom I don't even recognize as a human being, thus she definitely falls into the bitch category, but has no given name, abandoned her son at the age of 2 to be raised by his grandparents because her then fiance refused to allow that half 'rican live in his house. Nice, right? He's now 34 and for all purposes related to me and my family, the little brother.

So you might ask, where were all those sisters? Um, busy? Nevertheless, I took good care of my MIL and FIL that entire day even if I was there from 6 am until 7pm. The following day we had planned on leaving town to attend a football camp with C3, and we did although it was cut from a weekend away to a 17 hour round trip ride to Austin and back because... Because the sisters could not handle the responsibility of the in-laws for one day! Before we were an hour out of town the calls started coming and they all expected me to snap my fingers and make miracles happen. I was supposed to determine, by 5:00 pm, which of four rehab facilities that my FIL would go to from the hospital. Didn't matter that I was going to be more than 4 hours from the homestead. I was also called to clean up the mess that the sister with no name caused when after all these years she decided to rear her little head and decide that she was 'concerned' about her father. Yes, after not being able to reach my MIL by cell phone or in the hospital room (she had gone home to shower and eat) sister with no name called the hospital and demanded to speak to the head nurse about her father's care... After cursing and berating the head nurse about this care (which I'm not sure she can determine since her happy ass hadn't BEEN to the actual hospital), she then left a cursing and berating message for my MIL on her cell phone and instructed her that she was not allowed to EVER leave his side AGAIN and if she did, she was to call sister with no name and inform her of her reason to leave and whereabouts. Of course this started a whole course of sobs and complaints from Wuss 1 and Wuss 2, and they needed me to handle it. Hmmm...

So bright and early Saturday morning, I took a big batch of donuts and sausage rolls with me to the hospital to do some major ass kissing with the nurses and make sure they did not smother my FIL in his sleep. Then came Sunday when Bitch One and Bitch Two reared their little heads and told the MIL that they did not want their father going to a 'nursing home' that they felt he should be attended to at home. Yes, great advice from two women that were 'too busy' to take the time to come wait during surgery. Let's not even take into consideration that the MIL is nearing 80 and has a hernia that is scheduled to be operated on next month. And did these two plan on volunteering their services to attend FIL's needs? Uh, no, they have to work. More phone calls and more sobs from Wuss 1 and Wuss 2... So off again I go to the hospital bright and early Sunday morning to lay the law down to my MIL and FIL because of the fear that the idiot sisters, Bitch One and Bitch Two, put into their heads about 'nursing homes'. GAH!

Thankfully he is currently rehabbing quite nicely at the rehab center of MY choice and we hope to have him up and at 'em and home in a week...

Story B
We had some severe storms roll in last night and even a tornado or two. As I was watching the news I noticed that a possible tornado had been spotted and was heading directly toward the little town that C1 lives and has his gym. Knowing that he pays no attention to such, I called him but had to leave a message because, well because HE NEVER answers my calls. He's busy you know...

About 45 minutes later, I receive a frantic phone call from C1 because the tornado sirens are blaring and the wind is blowing 80 mph and the rain is seeping through the glass wall (that would be the entire front wall of his gym) and flooding the gym. He is panicked and asks me what to do? Uh, seek cover? I asked him if anyone was in the gym and of course being right after work it was packed, so I told him to get everyone into the interior restrooms and ride it out. He immediately starts shouting the orders before we lost connection. Yep, picture that, Mr. Big Bad Ass Business Owner calling his mommy and asking her what to do in an emergency? Priceless.

Story C
After the bad storms last night, we were still having some bitchin weather this morning. About 10 am, I received a text from the BIL (see above) which said, "Hey! Can you call me? Nothing wrong." Assuming that it had to do with either the MIL or FIL or possibly the sister with no name (which btw they do not speak and she has never been involved in his life) I immediately called him back. Here's his story - His wife, S, went into labor about 2 am, after going to the hospital at 7 am they decided to send her home because she had only dilated to a 2. Their house didn't have any electricity (tens of thousands of people still don't) but he left her there with their 5 year old son and was going to work. Could I call and check on her? WTF? STOP! Because of the horrid reception and the storm it actually took three or four phone calls to get that much out of him. So then I berated him for being an idiot.

First, they live 30-45 minutes away from the hospital IF the moon is aligned correctly. Second, they had NO ELECTRICITY. Third, he was heading to work which was 45 minutes in the OPPOSITE direction, in a STORM, so it could possibly take him 2 or more hours to get from work to get her and then to the hospital. What was he thinking? I immediately call S to inform her that I would come pick her up and take her to my house, which has electricity AND air conditioning, which is only 5 minutes from the hospital. She doesn't answer. Not the house phone or the cell phone. I then panic. What if she falls asleep and goes into real hard labor and dilates to a 9 before anyone can get there? Huh? Then what happens if I get there during this process and she has the baby in my car? Huh? Not in MY car!

Needless to say, she finally called me back, the contractions are still 5 minutes apart and she says she is fine. Oh, and the electricity came back on. Oh, and I guess I have to now cancel the shower I am throwing for her on Saturday... Apparently now I am not only in charge of the elderly and the lame, I am also in charge of the newborns - GAH!

Can I quit this job?

Excuse Me, May I Take a Moment to Bitch?

One of the many downfalls on being a menopausal woman is that you magically grow an increased waist size and large ass in addition to packing on some extra tonnage. In the past year due to this downfall, I have packed on roughly, give or take a few, um, 20ish pounds. (This is my story and I'm sticking to it so shut up!)

Due to this extra, um, poundage, I have discovered that my shorts no longer want to encompass my large ass. Now I don't actually want to go out and purchase a whole new wardrobe because I do have hopes that through a little voodoo and some fairy dust I will be able to stop this widening process and perhaps even shrink it. However...

However, living in the glorious hell hole we call Texas, it is not a luxury to wear shorts, it is a downright necessity. Just this morning driving to work we had a cool temperature of 81 degrees which actually might be considered hotter than hell in your part of the country, but it is a typical morning low in hell. By the time I get off work today it will probably be a mere 98 degrees, thus the necessity of putting on a cool pair of shorts in order not to immediately die from heat stroke should I walk out my front door.

Normally I wouldn't step out my front door in the evening during this time of the year but my precious baby, C3, has signed up for summer football which is played two evenings per week at the not so coolest hour of the day. Nope, not high noon, when it is not probable but maybe possible to still breathe in the heat, but at 5:00 sharp the hottest portion of the entire day.

This is where I start to bitch (NO, I have not started yet!)... In my quest to find ONE, maybe TWO pairs of enlarged shorts I have discovered that they no longer make normal shorts. As in normal I mean, normal. Shorts a middle aged, wide girth, hormonal woman can wear in public. Is it just me or is there only two options in shorts these days? You have your 'Bermuda' look which are so long that they hit you at the knee or you have your 'Daisy Duke' version, which in reality is a small slip of cloth that barely covers your ass. Trust me when I tell you, NOBODY wants to see this ass.

Bermuda shorts, albeit cute, are not exactly reasonable when the temperature is 199 degrees and also leave an undesirable tan line. Daisy Duke's, well once again nobody wants to see it... Also most popular seems to be little bitty short 'tennis type' mini-skirts. Um, no, I don't think I want to be showing my peek-a-choo to the opposing team while sitting in my lawn chair on the sidelines, and heaven forbid I would need to bend over! I can see the mobs of other parents passing out from the sight of THAT, let alone the heat...

What happen to normal shorts? You know shorts that hit maybe mid thigh? And speaking of normal, when in all things holy did the 'natural waistline' move to 2 inches below one's belly button? Um, MY natural waistline (well when I actually had one) is about two inches ABOVE my belly button. When did it become normal to display one's muffin top over one's pants? HELLO I am trying to HIDE that muffin top along with the large ass, not display it!!!!

Don't even get me started on shirts. Okay too late - shirts, can I have just plain sleeveless? Do I have to have only halter tops or spaghetti strap shirts to choose from? That's a whole other area of flab hanging over and out that I don't wish to share. And when, my fellow Americans, did it become acceptable to wear a purple, green, yellow or blue bra with a white spaghetti strap shirt? Huh, when? I applaud women for actually wearing a bra with these shirts but DO I HAVE TO SEE YOUR BRA STRAPS? Huh, do I?

grab yourself a cup of joe, take a seat and let's have a little visit...

Been awhile since I've visited blogland and since I can't seem to keep it going, thought I'd throw it all out there at once, even though there is not much to say...

Still haven't seen the tattoo in it's full glory, hear that it is still in the 'creative process', but I have quit crying about it.  Not much I can do now...  Thank you all for the nice comments about C2, you bunch of cougars...

School is officially out for the summer and having a little problem with my baby going to HIGH SCHOOL, just sayin...

Went to a wedding last weekend with M, C1's girlfriend (he was in the wedding) and I wonder if it is possible to trade in one's oldest child and replace them with the girlfriend?  I'd do it in a red hot minute...

Once again there is construction at the house, seems hubby decided we needed a deck and so... we are getting one.  Why does this not work for me when I decide I want something?  

Need to go visit some blogs, miss catching up with all of you!  Was really happy to see Omaha Momma was back at it, just need Jane! to get back at it and then there is June, Tracie, hmmm... where is everyone?

How to make your momma cry without even trying

I'm sure that C2 didn't even THINK about me before he did this. Nor should he have, but needless to say this has devastated me...

Because I'm the momma

From the moment I became a Mom some 26 years ago, this has been my favorite song and have I have played it over and over again for each one of my boys.  It is one of their favorites too, something that we all share.  Without my three sons, whom I love with all my soul, there would be a huge, empty hole in my heart.

Today, I share our song with you in honor of all mothers, especially those with boys.  I hope you enjoy it as much as we do!

Happy Mother's Day!

My Mommy

Thought I would jump on the loving devotions to mothers today even though loving devotions are just a little bit out of character for me... Hallmark be damned.

My mom is the youngest of 10 children and was born on a farm somewhere in Central Texas with a population of about 200 (and I think they counted farm animals). To hear her tell it she had a wonderful childhood, but it always seemed like a depressing place to me. Because my mom was an unexpected child (or that's what we always teased her about because she was born on April 1st, so we told her she was an April Fools joke that couldn't be sent back), a few of the older siblings were already out of the house and on with their lives when she was born. The oldest had entered the nunnery (okay that may not be the official word for it, but you get the picture) and my mother did not meet this sister until she was 6 or so years old. How bizarre!

Upon graduating from high school, my mom moved to the big city of Fort Worth, TX and lived in a 'girl's only' boarding house while working as a secretary during the day and apparently cruising bars in the evening because that is where she met my dad, at a bar...

They married a short time later (after dad converted first, rules you know) and had seven children (the most loving of course would be ME, the middle child, and the only one writing this devotion to her mother. Oh and BTW, I'm also the favorite but she doesn't like me telling the others that because she is afraid it would hurt their feelings.) I do believe that this year would have been my parents 50th anniversary had my dad not passed. But then again I could be wrong because menopause is messing with my memory lately...

Although my mom has some flaws, we all do don't we, she has always been there for me. Through it all, the good, the bad and the ugly and she probably doesn't even know how much I love her because I probably have not told her enough. But I do, she's my rock and life just wouldn't be the same without her.

I love YOU Mommy!

Another, I couldn't make this shit up if i tried story by Kat

First, the good news is that the car has been recovered, YEA! Most of you will be amused to know that you called it right and he had actually valet parked it at a club (assuming strip club because he has yet given UP the name of said club), was too drunk to remember, thankfully walked home and did not actually remember until one week later. Walking by said club (or returning to the scene of the crime) on Friday evening he had an epiphany (his exact word) and after paying a week's worth of storage cost, drove his car home...

Of course this epiphany couldn't come before all the crap that I went through last week dealing with a stolen vehicle. Having first turned down the use of a rent car because we had an extra car for him to drive, said extra car broke down on him on the way to work one morning. Hubby went to rescue him and I was summoned at 6:30 am to not only produce a tow truck, but to pull a rental car out of my ass. Long story short, after many phone calls and screaming matches, car was sent to the car hospital and I was to meet the car rental people at the house for car delivery at 12:30 on Friday.

Left work early to make sure that I was home on time, received a phone call that they were on their way and sat and waited and waited and waited and waited. Over an hour later, after having to cancel my nail appointment, rental car dude calls and says that he came to my house and knocked and rang the doorbell for 10 minutes but nobody answered. No, I'm sitting right here in my little office next to the front door, losing my butt at 21, and nobody has come to my house. Swears he was there, recites the directions to my house to which I agree are correct and then tells me that there was a white Silverado pickup in my driveway. No, don't have one of those, but there is a white NISSAN in my driveway dumbass. So another long story short, they finally arrive and after all the switch and bait of cars, C2 drove off to his beloved Dallas only to find his fricken car 5 hours later...

Several months ago I came home from work to discover a yellow post-it note stating 'No Solicitors' attached prominently next to my front door over the doorbell. Upon questioning Hubby about this attractive new feature to our decor, he told me that he was sick and tired of coming home every day and having thousands of flyers on the porch or rubber-banded to the door handle (I believe he even said something about saving the trees...) in addition to the constant stream of product hawkers, lawn care specialist and young men trying to save our souls.

Having learned many, many years ago some things are better left alone and not worth fighting over and I chose not to tell him what an idiot he was (although I do believe I mentioned something about white trash...) and let him keep his little post-it note on the door. Truth be told, it actually worked. Weeks and weeks went by and no more flyers were left at our doorstep and not a ringing doorbell was heard. Both C1 and C2 ribbed him about his little post-it note every time they came over but he was adamant that it worked. Occasionally, if he knew we were having guests, he would remove the post-it note and stick it on the desk by the door. After a few days of his forgetting to put it back outside we would have stacks of flyers once again and back out came the post-it note, by now being secured by scotch tape.

Not sure why but last week the post-it note was not attached to the door and as we were sitting down to dinner the doorbell rang. Sending Hubby to the door, C3 and I sat down to our dinner, lest it get cold... Poor Hubby even though he doesn't want evil solicitors coming to his door, he is just senseless enough to talk to any stranger than comes a knocking. In the beginning I didn't pay any attention to the conversation, just went about eating my meal and occasionally catching a word or too. I did hear Perfect Stranger Sales Dude mention that "Big Mack across the street uses our service and thought YOU might be interested... and this will just take a minute..." and kept right on stuffing my face. Until...

Until I hear THESE words come straight out of Hubby's mouth, not only Perfect Stranger Sales Dude to hear, but for anyone within ten miles that might be listening... "Yeah, WE USED TO HAVE AN ALARM SYSTEM BUT WE NEVER EVEN TURN IT ON ANYMORE."

OH. NO. HE. DIDN'T!

Thankfully, by this time Hubby is bored with the conversation and tells Perfect Stranger Sales Dude that he really needed to talk it over with 'the wife' (just in case you are wondering, YES, that is what he calls me in public, wtf?) could he possibly leave him a brochure or a business card and we would call him back if we were interested. And just as I expected, Perfect Stranger Sales Dude tells Hubby that he doesn't have any brochures or cards and asks him when a good time to come back would be?

I didn't really listen to anymore because my head was spinning exorcist style and my ears were ringing and the steam coming out of them was clogging my hearing, but then Hubby comes and casually sits at the dinner table to start his meal. I feel my blood pressure rising quickly, the hot flash from the stress and my temples pulsating from my head that is just about to explode and I say - "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?"

Okay, I didn't say it, I screamed it so loud that I am pretty sure that Perfect Stranger Sales Dude, who by this time was scoping out my house to see the best way to BREAK AND ENTER it, heard my every word. And to my surprise, Hubby looks at me with that stupid man look and says "What, what are you talking about?"

So after berating him for well over an hour, well maybe for the next four hours, I think he actually started seeing the light and not only has he been diligent in making sure every door and window are locked and secured each morning and evening, he actually went out this week end and bought a real 'NO SOLICITORS' sign and secured it to the front door and threw away his little post-it note....

Phone Calls after 10 PM

Being the mother of three darling (cough-cough) male children I have learned the hard way that no good news ever comes via the telephone after 10:00 pm. It is most certainly never someone calling just to say "HI" or "Miss you and Love you MOM" - no, no, no, it is always most definitely a bad call, a very bad call.


Since I pride myself on having common sense, one would ponder why I actually ANSWER the phone after 10:00 pm? Wouldn't it make my life easier if I just ignored that ringing sound and rolled over and went back to sleep? Maybe, subconsciously, I get some mysterious, perverted pleasure of jumping straight out of bed in the wee hours of the night, causing my heart to pump fast enough to produce a major coronary attack, sweat beading around my upper lip and pouring from my underarms along with the instant feeling of self induced vomit rising in the back of my throat? Do you think that's it? Hmmm...


Thankfully, for the short term anyway, the after 10:00 pm phone calls are at a rare minimum. With a 15, almost 16 males species still living in the adobe, I know those days are numbered...

Sunday, approximately 2:38 AM, well not really approximately, exactly at 2:38 AM, because I always LOOK at the clock when the phone rings in the middle of the night so that I can pronounce my own time of death... C2 called to inform us that his car had been stolen. Stolen right out of his very own parking lot. That gated, secured and monitored parking lot. Hmmm...

Needless to say, he was a little irrational at the time, well actually his butt was not only irrational but a little on the tipsy side. Okay, a little more than tipsy, whatever... so the story was a little, shall we say, convoluted? I have yet to figure out why he felt compelled to wake me up at that time to tell me the news. Yes, he was upset but wouldn't the car still be missing at say, 8:00 am? Hmmm...

All the proper procedures have taken place, the police were summoned and a report was written, the insurance company was called and a claim filed and as of today, nothing. I keep wishing that they find the car and I don't really care if it's stripped bare, just let it be able to be repaired because the alternative is not pretty. But then getting screwed over is never pretty is it?

And for today...

Have absolutely nothing to say but didn't want to stop the streak, so THANK YOU BECCA, you may now consider yourself officially TAGGED. Muwahahahahaha!

Stupid Tags...

In response to THE tag... and has anyone noticed 3 posts in a row? I'm just sayin...

8 things I'm looking forward to:
1. Summer and sunshine, well until it gets to friggin hot.
2. Grandbabies
3. Friday night football
4. A vacation, whenever that is
5. It’s Tuesday, so what else, The Biggest Loser…
6. The weekend
7. Retirement
8. This is hard – I don’t know…

8 things I did yesterday:
1. Worked
2. Had a salad for lunch
3. Worked late, again
4. Wrote a scathing letter to an insurance company and got my point across
5. Found the deck design that I want and asked for bid
6. Ate Mexican food for dinner, that diet lasted long…
7. Watched Desperate Housewives, Brothers & Sisters and Keeping up with the Kardasians
8. POSTED a blog entry

8 things I wish I could do:
1. Be a millionaire
2. Live on the beach
3. In a mansion
4. With a pool
5. Own a yacht
6. Park my yacht at my mansion on the beach
7. Have the perfect body without working out
8. Get a nose job

8 shows I watch:
1. The Biggest Loser
2. Grey’s Anatomy
3. How I Met Your Mother
5. Lost
6. Private Practice
7. Little People Big World
8. Office

8 people I tag:
1. Sarah – because I’m mean
2. Hawkeye Chick - ditto
3. Betsy- because you need to get back to blogging- where the hell are you woman? AND because Connie did…
4. Patsy – ditto #2
5. Bev – ditto #4
6. Tricia – ditto #5
7. Lulu – ditto #6
8. Tracie – ditto #7
9. Jane! - because I skipped something above...

The Girl and The Girl

I know that I have been slacking lately but Connie that DOES NOT mean that I will be dealing with your tag today, wench...

It does however mean, that I forgot to mention that I finally met THE GIRL!

Hubby and C3 went out of town last weekend to a football camp and since I am the wild woman that I am (right...) I called C1 and asked him if he would like to go to dinner on Friday night and bring THE GIRL. He gladly accepted and plans were made. He tried to back out of it on Thursday with an excuse that THE GIRL had already made plans to go out with an old friend (uh, helloooo, at 25, you do NOT have old friends, maybe at my age...) and wanted to know if I could rearrange my schedule. GUESS what my answer was?

So the plan was that they would come pick me up at 7:30 and we would head out to a nice seafood restaurant. Thankfully I had the day off and decided to go to the mall to seek out THE perfect outfit to one up THE GIRL. Me, shopping at the mall, what next? Managed to find a good outfit, that said 'Mom' but definitely 'Hot Mom' then went and had my nails done, got a pedicure and took my time divaing myself up and then sat and waited and waited and waited. They finally arrived at 8:45 and luckily for THE GIRL, I can honestly blame this on my own child.

I greeted her with a big ol' Texas hug (thought I'd throw her right off) even though I'm not a hugger unless I know someone. Think that shock effect worked well... Dinner went well and after a cosmo (or more) my nerves were settled. And I actually liked her. Couldn't find any fault with her, she was definitely more nervous than me and wasn't a huge conversationalist but admittedly I was on top of my game and didn't give her much opportunity. Score Kat!

She's cute, not as cute as the pictures I had seen and she definitely didn't go shopping for an outfit to impress me, hmmm... A little on the thin side, or maybe that was just my jealousy and my being on the not so thin side... But anyway, so far, it's been a little over a week and they are still dating, so I think we can officially rename her so she will now be called 'M.'

That would be because we now have a new THE GIRL but this one would be C2's...

Don't know her name yet nor have I met her, but I have seen pictures. She's cute, blonde (darn), a college graduate (yea) and employed (double yea). They seemed to have hit it off and C2 is smitten. Smitten enough to tell his Dad, that she 'might be the one...' Of course time will tell and until then she is now THE GIRL.

Could this mean, would it happen, is it possible that maybe someday I might actually get to be a grandma? Yep, I doubt it too...

And Today... Sweet Revenge

I learned something yesterday, there is ONE slightly good thing about menopausal rages. They can actually scare asshole husbands into submission...

Hubby has been pouty and pissy about the hours I've been keeping at the old J.O.B. He tried to say that he 'felt' (like he actually has feelings) that I loved my job more than my family. Truth be told in man language this means - "I miss you being at my beck and call and having dinner on the table every single night and having to fend for myself because I am a lazy male and can't do or think for myself."

His childish antics haven't exactly been sitting well with me for several reasons. First, the last time I looked we pretty much make the same amount of money and I'd be just as happy to live on his salary and be the diva I deserve to be. Second, the last time I looked I was not his personal slave and at the age of 50 the man should be able to make a meal or two on his own, pick up after himself and take care of a 15 year old kid. Third, what makes him think I ENJOY the hours I've been keeping? Yep, I really want to work 12 hour days and deal with idiots until my head explodes, it's my passion. Men are so stupid.

He made the random mistake yesterday afternoon of asking me a smart-ass question. "Are you planning on going to C3's district track meet or are you planning on working late, again?"

Oh. No. He. Didn't!

All my bottled up hormonal rage came pouring out, loud and clear, over the telephone, sitting in my office, with employees running for cover. It was not pretty. But it worked, for the time being, and I am back on top of my diva pedestal and being treated like the queen I am. So today my plan is to take a long afternoon nap, with the air turned down, and the thunderstorms rocking me to sleep and Hubby will get off work in time to pick C3 up at school. Ahhh... feeling better already.

Score one menopausal rage.

And Today... MEN SUCK

Really, there's not much more to say because the title says it all. MEN SUCK. Particularly men in the shape of husbands. I would rant more however I am currently suffering a hot flash along with an intense rage to murder someone and the sweat pouring off of me must be mopped up before some employee slips and falls and sues the company or something...

Menopause Sucks

• I'm not unhappy, yet I'm not happy.
• I'm not sad, yet I feel no joy.
• I'm lethargic, yet I'm not tired.
• I'm bored, yet I have plenty to do.
• I want to write, yet I have nothing to say.
• I want to exercise, yet I just sit on my ass
• I want to talk to people, yet I cringe every time the phone rings.
• I don't want to rage at people, yet I'd like to claw someones eyes out right now.
• I want drugs, yet I don't want drugs.
• I want to be not hot and sweaty, yet I freeze when I turn the air on.

I could go on and on, yet it is suffice to say Menopause SUCKS...