The Library

I am, currently, sitting at a computer in the library close to my house. I have had to pee for the last twenty minutes but refuse to abandon my seat as I had to make a reservation for this computer and may be on it for an hour and not longer. In addition to this fact, I also forfeit my computer should I chose to leave it. So here I sit. Hoping I don't have to sneeze. Writing to fill up my hour that I fought to get, (someone was sitting at my computer at my appointed time and I had to ask him to leave) not knowing what to write because of the overwhelming urge to relieve myself, writing a senseless post of nonsense. I guess I will relinquish my post and some undeserving prowler will be able to use up the remainder of the minutes ticking away ever so slowly on the little timer in the corner of my screen. Good luck random computer bogarter. I hope the seat is just a little wet!! ha ha!

and ohhhh yeah. I'm feelin the Darth Vader suit!

this sucks

I have no working computer. I am not blogging for real until I can figure out what is wrong with my old one or save enough money to get a new one. Blogging from my blackberry is to tedious. So to anyone who is sad the entries have stopped, I am sorry. And to such a person I say, send good thoughts for coming into some money my way!

just a thought

The thing is, I would be nothing if it weren't for my family. They give me humor, love, joy, pain, hurt, and everything in between. I love how they accept me for who I am, whoever that happens to be at the moment. To my crazy, mixed up, loving, family. Thanks. I love you!

Sorry

Ok, I know it has bee a long time since I have posted. The kids are out for the summer and are quite time consuming, not to mention that they always want to be on the computer. I do have an entry in the works but I have to finish it. I will do it soon I promise!

Man vs. Women

There is some debate, mostly between feminists and, well... every body else, that God is a Woman. I myself am not a feminazzi. I traverse my landscape with a broom and a happy tune and am happy to tend to the kids whilst letting my mind be fed on good literature, my dream of future formal education and resulting career. I don't need to explore the reason men are the way they are or feel compelled to try futilely to get them to understand women. I relish in the general differences. I do however believe God is a man!
I share some factual evidence that should, if you be in the feminazzi category, sway even the most staunch of believers.

- Women must develop earlier than boys and have a visual manifestation of said developments. (aka boobs)
boys- poke fun at girls early development.

- Women must also have a monthly hurtful, bloating, irritating, hormone filled, disgusting and often embarrassing episode that is also often precluded with a batch of crazy.
boys-nada

- Women have an extra layer of fat. That's just mean.
boys- eat what they want and dont gain weight

- Women must endure 9 months of pregnancy to have a child.
boys- just complain that its not all about them

- labor. I dont really need to go further than this one but I will just for kicks.
boys- get to stand by and watch

-Women cant pee outside without making a mess
boys- have outdoor pluming

-Women obtain unsightly wrinkles as they age as well as sagging, discoloration of skin, and gray hair.
boys- just get "more distinguished" with age and can be even better looking with gray hair.

-Women think in circles making them masters of multi-tasking and making them crazy.
boys- linear thinkers who cant organize to save themselves but it does not drive them crazy.

-Women have breasts
boys- ogle, become entranced by, persistently pursue, have to touch, are easily distracted by, and are envious of ours.

I am sure I could go on listing millions proofs that God is a man. It is clear evidence because if God was a woman, all of these things would be inflicted upon men and not women. Besides if God were a woman, what would we need men for?

little brown bag

little brown bag laying in the road,
looking dejected and so cold,
top a mash but kind of rolled,
what kind of treasure do you hold?

a cookie,
some candy,
an old dirty shoe?

a nice book
a severed head
are you full of poo

a prescription,
a child's toy,
some kittens that mew?

a vodka bottle,
a turkey sub,
a ticket to Kalamazoo?

tell me
oh tell me
now what should I do?

As I drive past
on my way to class
I haven't got a clue

your contents are a mystery
I fear that this must always be
unless some one had chance to see

the dropper of the bag... was me.

tinkle tinkle little stall

Time and again, it becomes necessary to use a public toilet. I have some reservation about using said toilets because I am not delighted by the notion that I have no control over the cleanliness of said toilet or who has been sitting on it. I will go to some very serious lengths to avoid the mere thought of using a public toilet because I hate them so very much.

It has happened to me that it has been unavoidable to use such facilities and I have given in to using them to avoid using my own pants as an alternative. I always find the experience disgusting but there have also been times I have been super grateful for their existence. On the whole though, I find that its always pretty much the same. Even if it is a "clean" bathroom.

You walk in. The smell of other peoples bums mingled with disinfectant and moldy paper towels hits you in the face. If you are unfortunate, a line awaits you. Some other people who's butts you are surely to smell. A line, you must wait in until a "room" opens up and you are allowed to sit on the previous occupant's warmth. If you are fortunate, no line so then, anxiety over which stall to peek into bubbles up. Will it be empty of debris? Will there be a floater??

You finally decide on a stall and enter, shutting behind you the door that almost entirely conceals your soon to be naked butt. Droplets on the seat, are they tinkle? Are they "spray" from an industrial strength toilet flush? Where are the latex gloves? Or, should I just put 20 paper toilet seat covers on top of them and hope? Hope that the toilet is not self flushing so your seat covers are sucked down into the toilet just as you get your pants down far enough to hover over them thus spraying your naked butt with "water" all while the person next to you is plopping. Come on, courtesy flush! You hope that puddle is......water? Someone farts. Someone tries the door. Someone is having a phone conversation. IS that puddle water? Does that foot thing mean the same thing in a woman's bathroom? The nightmare is complete.

You hurry to wash your hands and hope you can use a towel to touch the door handle. (because not everyone does wash) eeeewww

I will avoid unless I can not. In which case, I will cringe and bear it.

Ode to a sink scrubber

I was on the phone with my mother, the other day, while I was driving home from the gym. We were engaged in polite conversation and I inquired as to the happenings of her day. She replied that she had merely gone to the store. I asked what she had purchased at the store to which she responded that she had "only" gotten a new sink scrubber and that it was not that exciting.
"oh I don't know about that Mom" was my hasty reply.
A new sink scrubber, if your old one is disgusting, can be quite exciting and revitalizing. A new zeal for cleaning can be achieved when one trades in an old scrubber, bristles bent and matted together, rubber grip starting to come loose. The one last bit of food, stuck amongst its bristles, encaged by them so that no matter how many times you put it through the dish washer or spray it with the nozzle of the faucet, pick at it with some utensil, or soak it in the sink, is never coming out. The discoloration from the multiple times it has been used to scrub tomato based sauce from pots and pans or the sheer hopelessness of trying, unsuccessfully, to use it to loosen grime from a casserole dish can drive one to drink.
But a new one, a scrubber so bright and fresh with the enticing promise of a scrub done well, no smashed bristles or bit of food, no funny smell or discoloration. Its a revelation. A new scrubber is in no way "only" anything.................................. if your old scrubber is disgusting.
So enjoy it Mom! I hope it is all you would hope it could be!!!!
oh and Happy Mother's Day Mom! Your the best!

Laughter IS the Best Medicine

What can I say? The whole family has been sick for a couple of weeks (including myself) and so I am rendered unfruitful. I am, today, really grateful for really, REALLY hard laughter. Sometimes it is really the (I just wanted to say it one more time to make it weird) only thing that can get us through one crappy day to the next. Laughing at a situation that has made us uncomfortable or sad can ultimately heal us from it and turn it into a memory that will continually bring a smile to our faces... It is to this fact that I applaud my family.
My brothers are about the most hilarious people I know. They can poke fun at any situation from our past or something that our family is currently dealing with until they have taken it far enough that even the stuffiest one in the family will burst with laughter.
It has been a problem, at times in my life, laughing at one or the other or both of them at inappropriate times. I think my older brother's favorite time to get me really laughing is in church. We come from a very serious and somber religion that does not take kindly to some kid (or adult, oh yeah he still gets me) to be laughing while some saint is going on and on about how they came to be in their current situation. Its supposed to be serious. I mean really, there is actual crying involved. On my part as well, because I am trying to hold back the laughter so fiercely. It does not matter the kind of meeting or the severity of the looks I am getting from the very official looking gentlemen that sit facing the congregation, he is going to get me. His method is never the same either so there is not a chance that I will be able to prepare myself for the battle. He loves to point out someone doing something inappropriate or just plain funny, or "forget" to turn his phone off during a quiet moment at a baptism and have a ring tone that exclaims "I'm a gigolo, spending lotsa dough"! He will keep the straightest face and then, when only I am looking pull the strangest face at the person sitting in front of him so that even while I am typing this I am prone to giggle. And the sight of all of the people looking at me with slight disdain wondering what is wrong with me, only help to further my brothers delight as he too looks in my direction with a feigned look of surprise. To his glee my father would usually shush me and that would really get me going. Then when I had laughed out loud enough to really cause a bit of a disturbance my mother would inevitably give me one of her disapproving glances that was supposed to silence me and my brother (see, she knew I was not just laughing at nothing) but to no avail. The irritation on her face usually only proved to be enough to send me out of the meeting to "get a drink of water". A further joy to my brother as evident by his shaking head and my mother's utter sense of humiliation. After collecting myself in the bathroom and trying to think of something excruciating to try and oppose my brothers satisfied face I would attempt reentry to the meeting, as not doing so would warrant more disapproval from my mother. I only drew more attention to myself. Further pleasing my brother. Its irritating, my brothers satisfied face... it really is. But I love him anyway and in times of strife, I lean on him and trust he will always be able to make me laugh. (even if it gets me in a bit of trouble)

BUTTS

If I see one more butt crack I am going to fruit!!
Now I am not going to be one of those people who pretends that the fashion of my younger years was awesome and wish for the days when girls and boys dressed respectfully because, lets face it, our particular generation with their grunge/skate version of fashion was anything but respectful. But my question to girls who wear their pants so low and tight on their bodies so that each time they even move the whole of the world is exposed to their derriere is, why.?.
I love to watch one of these girls walking toward me. It is just such a wonder to me because, clearly they are trying to be sexy or hot or show some skin but do they not see that they (and this goes for even the skinniest girls) are giving themselves a "muffin top"? Creating the illusion of a giant doughnut on the front of their bellies must be the intention.. I wonder if they, themselves, refer to the style as a baked good??
And to them I say "JUST SAY NO"
We, and I leave teenage boys out of this particular we, have no desire to peer in to the vast cavern that is your butt crack. No desire to know what kind of panties you are wearing and how long it has been since you showered.. I do not need somewhere to put my keys thank you, I brought my purse.

a mild irritant??

Sitting with my beloved, on our vintage couch watching one of our favorite movies, I realized that I have a hatred for young actresses whose fame far outreaches their ability to act. I ponder, to myself, whether or not their "worth while" peers are not off having families and acting in local theater groups while these frivolous morons have their way with an unsuspecting public. I have a list of actresses whom I loathe entirely but the actress in question is the lead female in the movie "A Knight's Tale" Shannyn Sossamon. Whilst watching afore mentioned movie, my husband and I were having a conversation about old books and their relevancy on today's society. One of the other main characters in this movie is Chaucer. I lamented the fact that I had not, in fact, read his "Knight's Tale" and my hotness of a husband inquired about their being an actual story by Chaucer entitled "A Knight's Tale". I explained The Canterbury Tales and how they relate to the current movie we are watching...... only to be thwarted by the horrible portrayal of "Jocelyn" by Miss. Sossamon. It is an affront to my soul and my teeth as an actress. A mule could be more convincing. Mere school children have more focus and merit. And as we discuss the impact of said actress to movie's worth I have an interesting side note to give my better half that he bids me share with the masses..
If I were schizophrenic and heard voices that were telling me to.. oh.. perhaps.. kill someone or.... do something that was just stupid.. that it would have to be her voice that I would hear and that if it were I would be so irritated that I just might do the voices bidding just to shut her up.. I mean, she is the female version of Keanu Reeves. Only less talented and much less lucky.. She is clearly not an "FBI AGENT". Its just so irritating to me that she is even in this movie which is other wise super funny and enjoyable.. When she delivers her line that "that is well" I want to shoot myself.
"If you just stop talking in my head.. and naming your child Radio Science, I will do whatever you ask. I swear."
I'm just saying...
oh and it cracks him up that when I do read something from an earlier time period that the voice in my head is that of an old English man akin to John Cleese. I can't explain it. Its just what I hear when reading Shakespeare or Chaucer... Go figure!!
I mean really?? look at her stupid face!

FIRE!!

What does one say when one can think of nothing clever to say?
I have begun to desire to write again and so I put my fingers to the keyboard and stroke the keys in hopes that, the mere act of writing will inspire me with some anecdote or humorous ruse. Nothing has been coming to my mind as of late because I have been busy with life and it has expanded like a great storm cloud filling my entire sky with its billowing fullness and requires a constant vigil to keep the downpour from overflowing my every vessel. I know life's enormity is the same for everyone, still I cant shake the feeling that I have been given my circumstances because they prove to be so difficult for me. I can take a moment to remember the lighthearted, blissful ignorance of youth and long for the times when my siblings and I used to spray hairspray on doors and then set them on fire. It can make me laugh to remember that my youngest brother took the fall for all the evidence of the activity because he foolishly wrote his name so he could view it ablaze.. It was quite a sight.. I do miss those times when we could not worry about what was going to happen next but just live in the moment and be happy with our fiery displays. And so to this keyboard I did put my fingers and while my time spent here has been short, I have found it enjoyable again........

????

I know I said I would get better but computer problems have prevented me from being my charming hilarious self.. so to anyone who has not given up on me.. I am thinking of a good one.. soon to come.