Bits and Bobs

As you all are probably aware: It's FRIDAY! Which generally means that my attention span is far too short to carry on a long post. So, today you get Bits And Bobs of my week, my thoughts, my neurosis:

My dad and step-mom are out of town this week and I am supposed to be gathering eggs and veggies and distributing them. One day in and I already forgot. Hope those chickens don't get all freaked out and stop laying. Or go all gangwars on me when I walk in the coop tonight!


I can't seem to write a post it note right side up, so there are upside down notes sticking all over the bottom of my computer screen.

We are convinced that Talky Pete is now doing drug deals on the parking lot with T-Dub's unemployed brother-in-law. I am thinking of telling him the boss has ordered a pee test just to see how bad he freaks out. Then when he gets over the shock, I'm thinking of actually suggesting to the boss that he order a pee test. heh heh heh. Hey, I have a small dark side and it must come out and play occasionally. Besides, the guy's a douche.

I almost called in sick this morning and I'm not even sick. That is just SO not me. I was telling this to hubby on the way to work and he laughed at me. LAUGHED AT ME! He said, "Gert, you may have fantasized, but there's no way you actually considered it." So much for my being a rebel today.

Every time our vet castrates something at the house, he feeds the er.... testes to my red healer. Maybe I don't want my dog eating balls. I'm just saying.

I was a little disappointed Obama chose Bud Light for his drink of choice at the "Beer Summit" this week. And I think Budweiser should consider some truth in advertising. Perhaps something like:
Bud Light - Because a headache and the shits... Well, that's just how I roll.

I was absolutely shocked that the government suspended the Cash for Clunkers program after a mere 3 days. Our dealership did not manage to put a SINGLE one of these deals together thanks to all of the bureaucracy and paperwork. I guess I should be relieved. I was under the impression our government didn't have any money anyway...How were they going to pay us for these deals?

My plans for the weekend include a trip to Barnes and Noble and a trail ride that I may remember to take pictures of (fingers crossed).

AND last, but certainly not least: I wish you all a wonderful weekend full of whatever it is you are wishing for.

Check out Friday Fragments at Half Past Kissing Time!

Lookie What's Growing in My Garden!

I love my tomatoes. My radishes were delicious. Now we're to the important stuff:



A little vision of my favorite season: FALL
Which has within it my favorite holiday: Halloween
Because it kicks off my favorite time of the year: The Holiday Season.
Which contains all of my favorite things: Food, Family, Friends, Fun, Dinners, Giving, Gifts, SNOW, Warm Fabulous Clothes!!

Can you believe the sight of one little pumkin brought all of this to mind!?
I LOVE MY PUMKIN!!

I canNOT Believe...

I forgot yesterday was Totally Awkward Tuesday!! It's my favorite blog day now because I have like a thousand Awkward stories. DANG!
By the way, this is my 2nd post for today, so don't forget to read below for the REAL one!

How to Jinx Yourself In Just Five Easy Steps

#1. Listen to your great aunt's story about how she got stung in the face by a red wasp that morning and is now headed to the hardware store for wasp bombs.

#2. Tell great aunt how you have literally not been stung in twenty years and how you have stopped buying epi pens because you think you've just figured out how to avoid being stung and that it's been so long now you doubt you would even have an allergic reaction if you DID get stung. (smile wisely)

#3. Go to lunch with husband the very day you had the conversation with great aunt.

#4. Accidentally piss off a bunch of red wasps.

#5. Get stung

Following the above self jinxing procedure, wait for your tongue to swell up and then take benadryl. Try not to fall asleep at work.

Thanks for tuning in to How to Jinx Yourself In Just Five Easy Steps!

A Clearcut Case of More Balls than Brains...

So about 3 months ago, this man walked into the Ford dealership where I work and started talking to one of the salesmen. He had just inherited a 600 acre beef farm and a lot of money and he was needing a few vehicles. He ordered a couple of brand new trucks, a new Flex, a 2010 Shelby Mustang Cobra GT and picked out three used vehicles that we already had on the lot. We all thought that was an awful lot of cars, everyone envied the salesman that had waited on the guy. Except my husband. My husband said, "You mark my words...That man is a snake in the grass."
Well, a bounced Seventy Four THOUSAND dollar check and two stolen vehicles (because the check for them had bounced) later, we figured out that hubby was on to something.

I stand behind my boss's philosophy of running this place with trust even though I know some of you are probably thinking HOW COULD HE TAKE A 74K CHECK WITHOUT VERIFYING FUNDS!? He's been in this business a LONG time and has never been burned before now. Our customers LOVE the laid back atmosphere here and thankfully, this hasn't affected him in such a way that he is going to change that. Obviously, he did turn the check over to the prosecuting attorney and press charges.

Anyway, upon doing some research, we figured out that this guy had been in some serious trouble a year ago for Squatting in someone's home after writing the guy a 7k bad check. We looked up the case files that he has or has had in the past and GEEZ, there were a lot of them. Including being sued by his own father-in-law.

Yesterday, the police finally recovered one of the stolen vehicles and this morning when we got to work, it was sitting here on our lot. Looks good - not damaged or anything. We're glad to have it back and hoping one of the many customers who have called on it in the past little bit will still be in the market.
BUT HERE'S THE KICKER: In the glovebox of the returned stolen truck WERE PAPERS WHERE HE HAD GONE TO ANOTHER DEALERSHIP AND ORDERED ANOTHER MUSTANG!!! This guy is OUT OF CONTROL! We promptly called the other dealership hoping they hadn't already put the order in for this car - they had NOT, thank goodness.

If you hadn't already guessed, the inherited farm and money were both lies. According to the police and prosecuting attorney, this guy is going to prison when they catch him and rightly so. I just cannot begin to imagine what would cause a person to live their lives like this. It's just insane. And maybe literally insane. It IS certain that this dude has a huge set of juevos and a teeny tiny brain.

Paint Job Anyone?

I had heard the rumors, but I didn't believe them to be true until now.
You see, my office has two enormous windows leading out into the showroom of the dealership. As I was sitting here working this morning, this is what took place:

A very large man entered the show room. I smiled in the friendly manner I always do when a customer enters the building.
I saw a quick movement to my left and looked up to see Talky Pete RUSHING around his office with a terrified look on his face.
As the large man went over to the Service and Parts window, Talky taped a sign to the men's room door. I leaned forward to see what it said: SORRY, OUT OF ORDER.
Then I began this conversation with Talky:

What in hell are you doing? That bathroom isn't out of order.

Yes it IS!

No it's not.

STOP IT!! That's the GUY! The one who ALWAYS uses our bathroom and sprays crap everywhere!

Come on, you're exaggerating.

NO I'M NOT! HE CRAPS ALL OVER THE TOILET AND THE WALL AND THEN I HAVE TO CLEAN IT UP!

The wall? Really?

Then my husband pops around the corner: YES, GERTIE, THE WALL!

Which is when I said: YOU TAKE THAT SIGN DOWN RIGHT NOW BEFORE HE GOES IN THE WOMEN'S BATHROOM!

My husband had told me about this guy. About how every single time he comes in for an oil change, he uses the bathroom and every single time he uses the bathroom, he sort of explodes in there. I figured he was just being ridiculous. After seeing the general reaction this guy garnered upon entering the dealership, I decided maybe it wasn't just sillyness after all.

The man is sitting in the waiting area now. So help me, if he squirts up the women's restroom, I am NOT cleaning it. NEVAH NEVAH NEVAH!!!

So Last Weekend....

I went to Eureka Springs to run my friend's store. They were off to Dallas for a fun family birthday adventure. I was stoked! Man-Oh-Man!
First of all, I got to stay here:

With a balcony overlooking the main historical street in town:


That's my friend's place. He and his partner are lucky enough to live upstairs from their beautiful store, Spring Street Candle (keep an eye out for a fabulous upcoming giveaway on this blog!!).

So, anyway, I went down Friday night, stopped at the grocery store on the way for a frozen pizza and a bottle of pinot grigio (I know, I know) and then headed upstairs to begin enjoying my mini-vacation.
This would probably be a great time to tell you that I am a scardey-cat the likes of which you have never encountered. I am afraid of my own shadow, ghosts, monsters, spiders, that thing from Jeepers Creepers, goblins, gremlins and a number of other things that do and/or do not exist.
As I was walking up the stairwell to the apartment, I thought to myself "Holy shit! I'm here by myself. This building is OLD. I'll be okay. I'll be okay."

I put all of my stuff down and started preheating the oven so I could warm up my gourmet frozen pizza and decided to check the rest of the place out. My friend had been all excited about me seeing how he had decorated the place and for some reason, he was particularly excited about the master bath. I approached the master bath and noticed that the door was closed. I automatically assumed that, before leaving, he had put something in the bathroom that would scare the ever living crap out of me. (I don't know... maybe Jeepers Creepers is his roommate when I'm not there). Needless to say, he got an enourmous kick out of hearing how I had inched the bathroom door open, little by little, muscles tense and ready to leap into action, only to find that there was nothing in there except a really cute bathroom.
Five minutes later, I carried my grocery bag into the kitchen so I could get my pizza out and oven-ready. As I walked into the kitchen, I saw my reflection in the wood and glass door that leads onto the back porch and noticed THERE WAS SOMETHING WHITE FLOATING BY MY LEG! I went into pure panic mode before realizing it was THE GROCERY BAG I was carrying (I know, scary stuff, huh?)!
Later that night, when I heard the downstairs doorhandle being jiggled, I literally ran around in circles trying to decide what to do. A very scary peek out the door revealed the city police doing their nightly door check of all the downtown businesses.
I don't know what's wrong with me, but I'll tell you this: Next time I have to stay by myself, I'm getting two bottles of pinot and I'm going to apply them liberally!

Busy Week!

It's been a very busy week. You may be able to tell that by these embarrasingly short posts, but there's not a lot I can do about that. Normally when I'm in this situation, I'll sit down in the evening and write a post for the next morning but my adorable bunny has chewed through not one, but both of our laptop cords at home. (By the way, if you ever have to buy a new AC adapter for a laptop, go to Ebay!! I got two of them for 21.80 INCLUDING SHIPPING!!).

Anyway, in the absense of my laptop, I've been reading a new series of books. They're supposed to be about a vampire boarding school (yes, I know these are teen books) but I suspect they're actually teen romance (smut) books. Anyway, there are 5"House of Night" books out so far. What have I learned from reading teenage smut books? That my two new favorite words are shitbucket and shitcake. Please try to work one or both of these words into conversation today and then leave comments letting me know how it went...

HAPPY WEDNESDAY!!

It Bearly Happens Here (pun intended)

Here's what it takes to make a bunch of grown people in my neck of the woods act like Jesus has come home:




We were pretty shocked to see this in our driveway. I don't know anyone who has ever seen one in our area before now, but apparently, there are now at least two out there. As exciting as it was, I was really surprised at the reaction in the area: It was like the First Baptist emergency phone tree had been activated! Within a couple of hours everyone knew about it, was talking about it and had it surrounded in this tree taking pictures of it. At one point, it finally gave up and just took a nap up there. Poor bear. I guess as long as it doesn't decide our bottle calves look like tasty little morsels, I'm fine with it.

Totally Awkward Tuesday

Don't you hate starting a new job? I always have. You don't really know anyone and you don't generally know what you are doing. It can make for an uncomfortable experience to say the least.
Today's Totally Awkward post deals with my first day working in radio (which I did for many years). I was starting out as the receptionist on a phone system that was outrageously difficult to use, uncomfortable in the shirt they had provided me (with the station logo on it. The shirts were white and I swear to this day that they were somewhat seethrough), several of the men were absolute panting dogs AND the place was total chaos. Not a great start.
As lunch time rolled around, I learned that it was my daily duty to order lunch for all of the managers. There was a great little restaurant just down the street and I was to call and find out what the specials were. I did. This is what I heard the restaurant lady say:
"Today's special is the prime rib sandwich with au jus and your choice of super salad."
As luck would have it (I thought), all the managers were gathered together in the conference room having just finished a meeting. I entered the room and announced that day's special:
"Prime rib sandwich with au jus and your choice of super salad. I guess you guys know about the different super salads. They didn't really go over that on the phone."
I was met with several blank stares - the ones that are coupled with a look that says a person is about to break out into hysterical laughter, but they're waiting for their brains to process what's going on first and make sure they've heard you correctly. I would say that lasted for a full (very quiet) 4 seconds before the sales manager said, "Is there any chance that what they said was soup OR salad rather than super salad?" The look on my face must have told them everything they needed to know. They all died laughing.
After calling the restaurant AGAIN to find out what soup they were serving that day, I finished ordering for them and somehow managed not to die of embarassment.
I worked at that particular station for two years and I would bet there was not a single day that went by in which some smartass didn't walk up to me while I was having lunch and ask if I was having a super salad...

For more TAT fun, don't forget to visit The Secret Life of Tova Darling!

Yawn...

I'm so tired! My brain is not working correctly. I had a great weekend, but I can't get my thoughts together enough to blog about it.
I'm just going to go read your blogs instead...

Rodeo Within a Rodeo

We went to our little town's rodeo last night. The 52nd annual Rockin A Saddle Club rodeo. I have always wondered what having a heart attack might feel like and last night I may have come close to finding out.

Let me set this story up for you:
All of our kids took their horses so they could ride around before the rodeo and ride the grand entry.
My husband took my mare and one that he has for sale. He rode mine and led the other along with him (with neon orange for sale signs on her no less). At some point, my sister in law wanted to know if she could ride one of them, so hubby said sure - you ride Gertie's and I'll ride For Sale Horse. Well, the one he has for sale has not been ridden very many times - he just started breaking her to ride, so she doesn't know anything and hasn't seen much.
You also need to know that my son's horse (Beau) is widely known to be one of the most fantastic horses EVER. We are constantly having to turn down offers on him because he's beautiful, classy and unusually well-behaved. HOWEVER, he has not been ridden double (where someone sits in the saddle and another person sits behind it).

Back to the heart-attack:
My Sister In Law got on my horse and did just fine. My husband got on For Sale Horse and she wanted to buck, but he got her under control and went on down the arena. My son rode by with a very cute little girl on the back of his horse (again - son's horse not used to this, but looked like he couldn't care less about the extra passenger). I said to my son, "Hey, why don't you catch up with your step daddy and ride alongside him for awhile so that For Sale Horse will feel more confident." <---Remember this so you know who to blame for the upcoming scene:

Pea Pie began to trot his horse so that he could catch up with Hubby.
The cute girl behind Pea Pie began to bounce.
THAT is the moment that I suspect Beau discovered that he did, in fact, HAVE an extra passenger.
I'm no mind reader, but I think I can say with some certainty that Pea-Pie's horse was thinking a little something like this:

HEY THERE'S SOMETHING ON MY BUTT!
IT'S BOUNCING ON MY BUTT!
HEY, THERE REALLY IS SOMETHING ON MY BUTT! MAYBE IF I RUN REALLY FAST I CAN GET AWAY FROM IT! (and then he did. Like a bat out of hell.)
HEY! FOR SALE HORSE! THERE'S SOMETHING ON MY BUTT! LOOK! (and as he ran past, the cute girl slid off of him, pulling Pea-Pie right along with her. Pea Pie FLAILED right into the side of For Sale Horse)
WHOA! FOR SALE HORSE! YOU CAN BUCK REALLY HARD! LOOK AT YOU GO! HEY, THAT THING'S NOT ON MY BUTT ANYMORE!!!

My poor son and the little girl I am sure he was trying to impress had fallen off right there in front of Bob and everybody (Pea Pie said he slid all the way down the arena on one buttcheek which is still red and maintains were it not for the girl dragging him down, he wouldn't have fallen). Hubby took one helluva ride all the way down one side of the arena, but managed to stay on. Pea Pie's horse ran right into the roping box and stood there waiting for his boy to come and catch him.
I ran (or what sort of passes for running) down to everyone to make sure they were all okay. And then I realized... That was ALL MY FAULT. And then I wondered would anyone remember that I had caused that? On the way home, when everyone was chatting about the evening and I thought noone would ever know it was me who caused this whole scene, Pea Pie said, "Mom, you know if you hadn't told me to catch up to For Sale Horse, none of that would have happened..."
BUSTED!!

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince...and me.

You may or may not know, but I am a HUGE Harry Potter fan. I didn't pick up one of the books until there were already 4 of them out and my grown cousin insisted I give it a try. Well, like many, I was hooked.
I went to buy the 5th, 6th and 7th books at midnight on their release dates and I've been to the midnight showing of all of the movies that had a midnight showing near our town.
So, this week I thought, maybe I better go get our tickets in advance. There were nine of us meeting there - more adults than children. I went Monday evening and as I was walking up to the theater, realized I was by myself. This could be slightly embarrassing. There were other adults in line for tickets to that evenings (normal grown-up) movies. I felt my face get really hot as I had this conversation with the ticket kid:

(whispering): Hi, I'd like 9 tickets to tomorrow's midnight showing of Harry Potter.

What?

(clearing throat and speaking just a LITTLE more loudly): I said I'd like 9 tickets to tomorrow's midnight showing of Harry Potter.

(Practically yelling): You need NINE tickets? (pause) TO HARRY POTTER?

(sigh) Yes, the midnight showing please. (smiling at the grown-ups standing in the next line).

We showed up, the next night at midnight, and the movie was sold out (ha! I KNEW I should get those tickets in advance!). I have never seen a sold out movie in this town, but there it was. We got there early, got our popcorn and etc. and I walked around feeling PRETTY DARN SMART until... We walked into the actual screen room and... had to sit on the VERY front row! Seems I wasn't the only smart one - in fact, I was one of the least.

Two and a half hours and a very stiff neck later I announced that I would sit on the front row and watch it again right that very minute, though. It was BRILLIANT! Loved it. For having strayed so far from the book, I thought it was very well done.

Yesterday, as I sat here at work trying not to fall asleep at my desk, I told my husband that the next time I wanted to go see a midnight movie during the workweek to please remind me that I am OLD and I have to WORK and... to go earlier because at least then I won't have a stiff neck the next day.

Word Verification

I've noticed on some of your blogs that I have to type in a word to verify I'm a human leaving a comment and not some robot spammer.
I totally get that. Take Twitter for example - I'm not sure anyone on Twitter has more robot sex addicts following them than I do, so I do totally get it.
I just find some of the actual words for word verification funny. I know they are supposed to be randomly created, but I can't help picture some nerdy little guy with horn-rimmed glasses behind a massive computer somewhere typing in words like:

floofer
smickle
lurfle
snarksome

and then giggling while we type it in for verification.

I have been very tempted to make THAT the actual subject of the comments I leave.
Like hey, Georgie, I had to type in farkler to leave this comment, lol.

Or hiya WeaselMomma, I had to type in flarfitude to leave this comment, ha ha ha.

So far, I've been able to refrain, but you just never know...

Dorkism Defined

I've been reading about Tova Darling's Totally Awkward Tuesdays for a few weeks now. I knew right away, this was something I could do every week for years without running out of stories, so I decided to just jump feet first this week into the icy waters of (DUM DUH DAH <---scary noises) Junior High School.

I went to a small school where K-12, we were all in one big building. Jr. High and High School kids took some classes (like band) together. I had a huge crush on this high school boy. Now understand that many of these posts could start this way because I was a hormonal mess and generally had a new huge crush every week or so. This particular boy was popular - football player, drummer in the band, basketball, baseball - you know the boy. I also thought he was good looking, although having pulled out a high school yearbook recently, I can't remember why I thought that. But I did. I was probably paying more attention to his butt for some reason than his face. What is about teenage girls and butts? Honestly, when it comes to high school boys, the only possible function a butt could serve is to stink up a school bus or a classroom. But, there's a chance that I am just babbling to put off the really embarrasing part:

I had gone to babysit for the son of a friend of my dad's. He was only a toddler, so in bed by 8pm. I noticed that these folks had a typewriter in their living room, and I was just dying to try it out. With my mind constantly screaming the crush-boy's name at me (Ryan by the way), the only obvious thing I could do was to type him a letter. So I did. And I swear to all that is good and holy, it went a little something like this:

Dear Ryan,
I think you're super cute. I really want to get to know you better. Sometimes it's hard to imagine when we would have time - the school hallways are always so busy. But I wanted to give you this letter so that you might take the time to talk to me. Just know that I want you to like me for me and NOT for the material things that surround me.
Love always,
Gertrude

Yes, I DID launch into some Madonna lyrics. Looking back, I can't imagine what I was thinking for SO many reasons. What kind of message was I trying to send? I didn't even HAVE any material things, for the love of Pete.
My friend, who I excitedly let read the letter before taking it to him for me BEGGED me not to give it to him. I couldn't imagine why. She did give it to him, though, right in the lunch room. Where he took it to the table. And read it in front of ALL of his friends.
I know you're wondering, "GERTIE!? Did he run over to your table and pronounce his undying love for you right that very moment over your plate of beefy mac and green beans!?" The shocking answer is NO. He did NOT.
But thinking back, I must have somehow put that incident completely out of my mind for the remainder of the years he and I attended school together because I can remember several conversations with him in which I did not melt away in embarrassment while remembering that letter.
And the other day, he requested to add me on Facebook. I had to stop and wonder momentarily, "Is he doing this so that he can show all of his new grown up friends the girl who wrote that letter!?"

The Natural Scheme of Things

Hang on to your seats because I need to purge. Sorry, in advance, for the darkness, but I swear there is light at the end of the tunnel.

Call me crazy (you wouldn't be the first), but I think there should be some sort of natural flow to a family. I think the older folks should act like the older folks - mature, caring, concerned, sharing...
There's been a huge shift in my family for some time now. I guess it's not as much in my family as the way I view them and the tolerance I have for their non-traditional roles.
My mom is a drunk. She has been for a long time now. Why not? She comes from a long line of them herself - on both sides of her family. Her dad, her mom's dad, several uncles, etc. etc. Her brother is the same (although he is, at least, nice).
My biological father has never had anything to do with me, although I will give him the credit of saying that he tried. There was a phone call. It took about 30 seconds of that to figure out he, too, is a drunk. Didn't pursue that little relationship as there are plenty of alcoholics in my life already.
My adopted dad is... Well, maybe the most bitchy and judgemental person you have ever met in your life. Has not a kind word for me, my step sisters, my step mother or a stranger and seldom for his grandchildren- is only nice to his friends.
Last week was tough for me. Last week I got into an argument with my mom's mom who I had long ago deemed about the only sane person in my family. She has done a LOT for me in my life and she's about the only one (friends aside - I have the BEST friends). But family-wise, gramma was it. As I said, there's been a dramatic change in the way I view my family. Sort of a letting go of them so that I could purge my life of the negativity. It's what I need. I've begun to see them as a sort of cancerous growth - one on the surface that just needs to be lopped off so that the rest of me can be truly healthy. Gramma was the last hold out - the one who, in my mind, was the good one. I had to be honest with myself after the argument - she HAS done a lot of good things for me in my life. That does not mean she IS good for me. She is the single most negative person you will ever meet. Behold the conversation that took place, causing our argument, causing the light to come on above my head pointing out that this conversation was the same as ALL our conversations:
I called her and -

Hello?
Hi Gramma! I just wanted to make sure you knew our trip to Eureka Springs was next weekend and not this one.
Yes, of course I realize that. What time are you meeting me?
6:30 on Friday.
Okay, so 6:00 on Friday at Wal-Mart?
No, 6:30 on Friday. I don't get off work until 6:00.
Oh, okay. Are we taking my car?
Sure, I know you don't like to leave it parked like that.
Oh, good! So 6:00 on Friday. (are you starting to see why I might have thought she would be confused about which weekend?)
No gramma, 6:30 - maybe you better write it down.
Okay. I guess I'll have to make this call a short one because (in the most horrible and sarcastic voice you could imagine) I have to go to Cletas for a Birthday Party...
(trying to ignore the horrible attitude) Oh, cool! What did you get her?
A stupid yard ornament. She likes those horrible things, has at LEAST 4 of them in her front yard. I suppose she'll like it, but if she doesn't, it's not my problem. They're always inviting me to stupid birthday parties and stupid Christmas parties. And ALL they EVER give you is candles! Candles for your birthday, candles for Christmas. Who wants all those damned candles!? It's ridiculous!
-Please remember that this conversation is a replica of ALL conversations with her, no matter what the subject. This is where I just sorta lost it and said: Gramma, you know if you go on this trip with me we are NOT bitching about everything, we are NOT discussing family or ALL of the things you DON'T like.
Of course I know that! All you people think that everytime I open my mouth, I'm bitching about something.
Because it's TRUE!

And then she started to cry. Great. I made my gramma cry. I felt like a horrible piece of shit for two days. Like I had a bowling ball in my stomach.
And then I realized: I am sad that I do not have a traditional family. I am sad that I don't and never have had a mom or a grandma to run to with my troubles or to sit and talk happily with. An elder woman who would hug me and teach me. I see that grandmotherly person in my mind - someone to sit and talk quietly with over a cup of coffee or to teach me about gardening or sewing or the many wonderful gifts of knowledge women that age have. But for a long time now, I have been confusing that picture in my mind with what I really have been given. And they are not the same. Nor will they ever be.
So, it does not follow the natural scheme of things that I should become the matriarch of my family in my mid-thirties, but I have already waited too long for changes that will not come.
From this day forward, my family starts with me. I AM that momma that my son can come to for advice or hugs or conversation or sympathy. I WILL BE that gramma and hopefully live long enough to be that great-gramma. I AM that friend. I am blessed with: wonderful friends who have wonderful families who love and accept me the way I am - even love me for it. I am blessed with a strong, sensible husband who, I believe, is as thankful for having found me as I am for finding him. I am blessed with a talented, intelligent, independent son who I am certain will be a wonderful adult. I. AM. BLESSED. I. AM. THANKFUL. I. AM. MOVING. ON.

Friday Frivolity

It's FRIDAY!!! I'm probably the only person also celebrating the fact that it's RAINING!!! I also got a little email in my inbox this morning saying that Black Crowes tickets are going on sale today for a November concert in St. Louis. What other happy wonders will this day hold!? I'm all a titter!
As always, wishing all of you a fun, safe weekend!!

Where's the Perspective?

I know we are all sick and tired of hearing about Michael Jackson. I'm shocked I'm even blogging about it 2 days after the televised memorial service. TELEVISED... What!?
Love him or hate him. Believe he was a child molester, believe he was a tortured genius or believe he was both. I don't know what I believe and I never gave it much thought really because I'm just not that IN to celebrity. I get more excited about knowing a couple of local authors than I would if, say, Colin Farrel walked into my office right now. Johnny Depp is the exception simply because (perfect looks aside) he fascinates me. But even with the great JD, I am quite certain I wouldn't run around like a crazy person crying and trying to touch the hems of his...er...jeans or whatever.
So last night as we were watching tv and a recap of MJ's memorial service came on (even though the tv said something ELSE was supposed to be playing), I switched the channel... More MJ. I switched the channel... More MJ. I cussed a blue streak and switched again. I finally had to give in to the fact that there was no escape short of the Branson Entertainment Channel and I'm not going there.
I turned to my husband and wondered aloud WHAT THE HELL?! WHY DO PEOPLE CARE SO MUCH!? ARE PEOPLE STILL GOING TO BE TALKING ABOUT MY DEATH 2 WEEKS AFTER?! Not a chance! Not even if a giant turd rolled out of the woods and smashed me to death. The giant turd would get more coverage than the fact it caused my death.
I don't GET IT. Michael Jackson was not more important than you are. He was not more valuable in terms of life just because he sold albums and did the moonwalk. He wasn't less valuable, he just wasn't MORE. Try as I might, I cannot wrap my head around the fact that some people worship celebrity. Some people cry and faint and scream and do that weird, frantic hand waving thing because they've seen someone famous.
Where's the perspective?!

Crazy and Dink Update

Well, the plot doth thicken!

As you may remember from my previous post about Crazy and Dink, my ex husband was in the planning stages of moving out and getting himself a divorce from the craziest woman I've ever had the misfortune of knowing.

Well, he and Pea Pie spent Friday and Saturday packing their belongings (you may recall Crazy had gone out of town for a reunion of some sort) and moving into their new digs. Dink has a custom home builder friend who welcomed them into his rather substantial home, having gotten recently divorced himself. Mind you, Pea Pie is only over there every other week during the summer and weekends during school, but he is quite excited about the aquarium, pool table, peace and quiet and privacy. He's excited that he will be able to take valuable personal belongings with him during his visits without having to worry about them being destroyed by the mini-crazys.
ANYWAY, Dink called Sunday wondering whether he should get a restraining order on Crazy. This made me rather nervous. I mean, it's one thing for me to be referring to her as crazy, it's another to find out he truly believes she is. I jokingly asked if she'd been beating him and he regaled me with this little story:
At a basketball game this past season, they went to watch one of the mini-crazys play. Crazy got angry with Dink and threw a full iced tea in his face in front of the entire gymnasium. Dink was embarrassed and walked out. The school surveylance videos were all in witness as Crazy followed him out of the building and beat him all the way to his truck! That Monday, the Superintendant of schools called her in and informed her that any further such incendents would result in her being banned from school property FOREVER. I suggested that a restraining order might not be such a bad idea. He filed on Monday morning and a temporary order was put in place. I can't tell you how happy I would be to be a fly on the wall when she gets served with that thing (heaven help the server).
I asked Pea-Pie if he had just not been telling me all of this stuff because they didn't want me to freak out, but apparently he didn't know either. APPARENTLY, her behavior when Pea-Pie was over there was THE TONED DOWN VERSION. I can't tell you how scary I find that.
Okay, is this just me? Do any of you have similar stories or is this much crazy reserved for me and mine?

A Slice of Home

This is Big Louie


And I mean BIG Louie


He was my trusty steed on Sunday which was great even despite the fact that halfway through the trail ride, he decided it would be much more fun to jump over anything more than six inches tall than to just walk over. Even when going downhill... I managed to hang on because it's a long way down from up here:


All joking aside, we had a really great ride and I wanted to share some pictures of my beautiful slice of the world, the Missouri Ozarks:








And some of the gang:
The middle "bean" as Georgie Porgie would say:


My Bestie's boy:


Hubby:


Hubby's Bestie (although oddly enough, they simply refuse to call one another Besties. Men...(rollin eyes)):


That's a typical Sunday around here except the high temp was a cool 78 and there was a nice cool breeze blowing. None of that sweating and wondering what we were thinking to leave the air conditioning this time around!

Monday Morning Blues

Ick. Monday.
It's not only Monday. It's Monday and my husband took a vacation day meaning I am here fending off Talky Pete all by myself.

Wrote a song about it.
Wanna hear it?
Here it goes!

Dum duh da dum!
Sittin in my office
dum duh da dum!
Mindin' my own biz
dum duh da dum!
In walks ole Talky
dum duh da dum!
Don't have to wonder who it is
dum duh da dum!
hadn't shut his mouth
dum duh da dum!
since I walked in today
dum duh da dum!
he's so full of poop
dum duh da dum!
can't believe a word he say!

Yes, this really is how I roll.

Hope you all had a great 4th weekend. We were supposed to go floating on Saturday but decided not to and thankfully so because apparently the creek was low and it rained ALL DAY. We went on a road trip instead and it was a great day for it. Overcast skies meant no sun glaring in my face all day and the temps were quite nice too.
Sunday we went on a 10 mile trail ride. High temp was 78 and there was a nice breeze. Best ride I've been on in a long time. Took a bunch of pics, but forgot to upload them, so hopefully tomorrow I can post those along with the deets.

Here's to a great week for all!

Friday Frivolity!!

Hope you all have a great, safe 4th of July weekend!!

It's a Man's World??

I was just sitting here the other day thinking that when I hear stories about men making more money just because they're men, I just can't believe it. It just isn't something I can wrap my head around. Until yesterday.
Yesterday was payday here at the dealership and my husband accidentally received Talky Pete's paycheck due to an error in the office. Well guess what? He makes twice what I do. TWICE. AS. MUCH. AS. I. DO.
We have the same job except my division does twice as much business. So, first of all, I do twice as much work. His job consists of financing vehicles only. Mine consists of signing new business customers, financing their inventory and invoicing them when the deal is done. I spend my spare time (blogging time aside of course) learning Spanish. He spends his opening up virus-y emails and then forwarding them to everyone else. After explaining to him that I don't open his emails because there are usually virus warnings attached, he said, "Well, my computer lets me open them." I said, "Yeah, it LETS you after it WARNS YOU NOT TO." I came in the morning after that very conversation and had another email from him. We all blocked his email address.
He is THE supreme mugwhump of all things moronic and HE'S MAKING DOUBLE WHAT I MAKE.
Needless to say, I'm pissed.
The problem here is that the person who accidentally switched the paychecks is my Aunt who I love dearly and I don't want to get her in trouble by going into the boss's office and pointing this out only to have him ask how I know. I don't want to lie, but in this case, I think I'm going to have to say that I overheard the moron in question talking on the phone...blah blah blah... I WANT A RAISE!
I officially call BS...

Crazy and Dink

Okay, on with the last weekends happenings:

Friday my son called to inform me that his crazy-assed step mother (we'll just call her Crazy) had topped herself. She put on Facebook that she was getting divorced, thinking my ex (we'll call him Dink)wouldn't see it (rolling eyes), her own daughter (the oldest and only normal one) called Dink and told him...
Well that went over like the proverbial turd in the punchbowl. Dink is all for the idea of divorcing Crazy, but didn't appreciate being blindsided on a public forum. He printed out the page proving she had typed it and then confronted her with it. Crazy then began banging her own head into things and saying she was calling the cops to turn him in for beating her about the head and shoulders. (Dink is many things, but abusive is not one of them). Dink took Crazy's phone from the dresser. Crazy took Dink's phone and broke it in half then ran it under water. Much yelling ensued. Crazy's middle daughter jumped on Dink and began punching him. And that's when Pea-Pie decided he'd had enough and yanked Girl Crazy off of his dad.
Mind you, this happened Thursday night. The following conversation took place between my son and I Friday morning:

Pea-Pie: Explains whole sordid story.
Me: WHY ARE YOU JUST NOW CALLING ME!?
Pea-Pie: Crazy hid my phone so I couldn't call last night. I finally found it.
Me: (much stuttering, spluttering)PACK YOUR STUFF, I'M COMING TO GET YOU NOW!

Then I had to explain to my boss why I had to leave for an hour in the middle of the day while watching him picture some Jerry Springer lifestyle which I (capital I) do NOT live except by association with this bunch of turds.
The next call was to Dink to explain to him that I was PISSED that he had not called me (I don't care Crazy broke your phone in half and ran it under water, GO TO THE NEIGHBORS!). And that from this point forward and forever more Crazy had better never get within 500 feet of my son or I'M going to go Jerry Springer and see how SHE likes it!
He is moving out this Saturday while Crazy is at some kind of reunion.
I hate for him that he now has a 3rd failed marriage under his belt, but to hell with that mess, I've got a son to try and raise like a normal human being.
Pea-Pie is probably about to go crazy from all the "That is NOT normal behavior" talks I've given him. He SWEARS he understands that and that we've taught him how to deal with conflict and have normal discussions, etc. etc. etc. (until he's blue in the face)

Isn't it funny that Crazy and Dink live in a nice big house, while I live in a trailer and yet I'm not the Trailer Trash? Go figure.