Boys will be Boys

At a recent conversation with 2 of my nephews (ages 12 and 10) this is what I heard:
Me: How'd you get the black eye? (this ? directed at 10 year old)
10 yr old: My brother.
12 yr old: I DIDN'T DO anything.
10 yr old: My brother was on me and I had to go REAL bad.
Me: Your brother was ON you?
12 yr old: That's what I'm saying; I DIDN'T DO anything to him, I was just sitting on him.
10 yr old jumps in: And I TOLD him, I HAVE to go sooo bad if you don't let me up I will pee on you.
12 yr old: So he starts trying to get loose and he hit his eye on my knee. I didn't DO anything.
This entire convo cracked me up!! (probably because I'm not their mom!!!)

Run Forest Run

I want to go running but I don't want to actually put on shoes, leave the house, or actually run. I'm going to call it cerebral athletics and I'll just picture myself doing it. Yeah that works. Today's blog; no subject; just random shit from the basement of my id. Basement needs cleaning that's a fact. Too much useless information gathered. I carefully stored a boxfull of feelings from Junior High School but now there's no room on the shelf for where I left my keys. Crap.

Moms Know Everything

As some of you know, I have a dear friend who has ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease) and she can only move a few fingers, her head, and she can chew and swallow but someone has to feed her. Well, this gal single parented and raised 3 wonderful boys. Two of these boys are married but the youngest still lives at home. So, I'm over there visiting yesterday and "youngest" is packing to go on a camping trip. He comes into the room and says "Mom, where is my fishing pole?" (OKAY readers stay with me here.... SHE'S STUCK IN A CHAIR!!!!) My friend gets this "shit eating" grin on her face and says "I told you to put it away didn't I?" By God, she DID know where it was!!! She had one of her caregivers put it in a closet. She made him "work" alittle bit before she told him where to look. I tell you the MOM POWER is a force to be reckoned with even when she can't whip your ass.

Fuckin Terrorists

Pretty soon we will have to go to the airport naked and take no luggage and be forced to buy all new clothing, etc. at our flight destination. Do NOT misunderstand me here; I do want safety on airplanes and I realize the airlines, airports, etc. have their hands tied basically. My anger and frustration is directed at the terrorists. Even if they blow up a million people they will NOT get their way. They are SERIOUSLY overdue for anger management classes and need a butt kicking.

Boob Perspective

I have just read a few blogs with big breasts as subject matter. Aren't breasts, ta-tas, boobies, tits, jugs, etc. an interesting phenomenon? One day you're on the swingset pumping your legs and arching your back feeling the whoosh of air tickle your face, neck, and arms and you are the Princess of earth wind and fire. Then without warning your mom says "You need a bra, cover those up, you're a big girl now" (and all the other corresponding dialog). So, corsetted-up you begin your BIG Girl life. If I need to cover them they must be bad, why the need for camo? If I show them it makes others uncomfortable so for "Goodness Sake" I must cover. But the coin has another shiny side thus being "For Badness Sake" I tease, flash, look but don't touch and I control most eyes. The pen may be mightier than the sword but I'll wager a RACK beats them both.

Talk to the Hand

Necessity prompted my phone call to Charter Communications (remember their company name because there is irony or it's cousin contained therein) the other day. I first ran through the gauntlet of: "If you want the Dutch language press 17" "If you want to be annoyed press 88" etc. Finally arriving at the: one reason I called Press 7. Fending off having euphoria to early into the torture routine I was greeted with a recorded voice. OH YEAH the one device in the universe that cannot understand when you answer a YES or NO question with a YES or a NO. The female recorded voice talked to me in childlike simplicity as to why I got stuck with it instead of someone who could ACTUALLY HELP. Evidently people who don't have a problem call Charter Communications (there it is again) just to DICK with them. The recorded voice went over things like "WAS the equipment plugged into an outlet?" and other useless information. Using the patience of JOB, I spoke outloud to a piece of equipment and tried my best to enunciate. It often had to prompt me again because it could not understand me saying HARD MULTI SYLLABLE words like Yes and NO. Finally I couldn't take it anymore and when asked for an answer I said nothing. It repeated the question 2 more times and each time I said nothing. Then it THREATENED to hangup. Can you believe it??? Threatened by a recorded
voice. Cripes. So, I just took matters in my own hands and repeatedly hit the "O" and in seconds there was a ringing answered by a HUMAN. Needless to say the human helped me with my problem and UNDERSTOOD yes and no and even harder words. I am not a total Luddite but I hope they don't install this mode of non communication at the 911 emergency call center.

Redundant Gay Rebuttal

This is my blog so I can write anything I damn well please. What a great feeling of freedom that is. Seems small compared to alot of other things but it is huge. There was a time in my life when I didn't have any opinion about gays or straights. It never entered my teen aged realm of pimples and crushes and homework. Then one day when I was gazing lovingly at my three children who were very young there happened to be some comment about gays coming from the tv. I can't remember if it was a sexual innuendo, a slur, or any of the context except it made me THINK about the subject. My brain quickly jumped past the sexual act to ponder if one of my children was gay (I express it this way because I believe that a person is born with their sexuality hotwired into their DNA so even if I am looking at a 2 year old who hasn't had sex yet I consider that person to be gay just the same as blonde haired, brown eyed, etc.) and I realized in that moment I would not love my children any differently. Once I had made it personal that feeling expanded to the rest of the universe. Which makes me ponder about these people with gay bashing/hateful agendas.

Best Cappucino

I will be the first to admit that I don't "get out"
much but I am telling you that this is a picture of
the best cappucino I ever saw and tasted. It is at
Le Grande Cafe, Quebec City and it's waiting for
you.

Green Means GO

I hit the "crosswalk" knob on the metal pole and now it is MY Turn. I'm walking across the freakin street IN THE CROSSWALK when I hear a honk honk and a screeching voice that yells,"It's a GREEN LIGHT...GREEN LIGHT." This commotion was coming from the car behind the Driver's Training Vehicle that wanted to turn right! Can you believe it? First of all; Who honks and yells at the Driver's Ed car??? They have 2 large signs declaring for all to read that they can't fuckin drive yet. Plus there was a pedestrian in the crosswalk and I am HARD to miss folks (that's right I'm plus size at best.) Don't you just wish you could pull a" Samantha" on these road freaks? Like one little twitch of my nose and this screamer behind the Driver's Ed car would find her car with four flat tires. hmmmmmm

Walking in the Rain

This morning I went for a walk in the rain sans brolly (that is what they call an umbrella in the UK). It was warm enough to not be chilly and the rain drops felt so refreshing. I almost jumped into a puddle from sheer joy but I didn't want to ruin my new shoes.

The Faux Beautiful People

We are assaulted by images of what we are told are "The Beautiful People". I am surrounded by beautiful people and they have no similarity to what I am being told is "beautiful". There's my friends who are bald and radiant while undergoing chemo, lopsided from mastectomy but perfectly balanced, scarred but not diminished by brain surgery, trapped inside a body with Lou Gehrig's disease and remains brilliant. Every line and wrinkle on gorgeous faces are a tatoo of remembrance; a dead child, failed marriage, beginnings and endings. Where are you "pretenders to the throne; you fake beautiful people?" I fail to recognize you as I am blinded by the rainbow of beauty that I call friends and family.

Goin on a Roadtrip

One of my daughters has invited me to a show called Celtic Woman this evening. Sounds interesting and fun. It's about 2 hours away and it appears to be a lovely day for a drive. Yeah. Also good news; my brother and his girlfriend are arriving home from the Mayo Clinic Hospital where she had undergone brain surgery last week. Fascinating procedure!! I got to view a video clip! All in all it's a good day.

Sadness Whisper Your Name

Greetings this sunny afternoon (at least where I reside). I was feeling a little blue the last couple of days because my cousin Terri died after a courageous fight with stage 4 ovarian cancer. I popped in an old cd that I hadn't listened to for several years and was groovin to Kirsty MacColl. I decided I liked Kirsty so very much and she was cheerin me up somethin great until I did an internet search to find more albums by her and found out she's dead too!!! I realize the rest of the world knew she was dead 6 years ago and I am the slow poke here BUT none the less it's bummin me out.

Dianthus in the doorway

This morning I planted a Dianthus (also known as carnation or sweet william or pinks) in a decorative pot on the front porch. Spring is here. The dianthus replaced a primrose that was starting to fade because the weather is warming. Where we live the primrose is usually the first flowering outdoor plant and it is so great to see their bright colors in February when the skies are still grey. The pot that has held both plants came all the way from England and was my Christmas gift from my daughter's mother-in-law brought over in my daughter's suitcase when she and her husband were here for the holidays. When I look at the beautiful fuschia (sp?) dianthus I see my daughter and her mother-in-law (a lovely English lady) and hear a faint sound of fairy giggles.

Pecker Trauma

My dad comes out of his doctor visit today with a prescription for Viagra. If you have read my previous blogs you know that I get to drive Mr. Daisy because he's blind and I'm the sibling that "doesn't have a real job". Having to hear about bowel movements, enlarged prostate, etc. wasn't exciting enough for me and now I get to know that he's doing the horizontal mambo. I realize I should be happy for him that "floppy" gets to hop again but SERIOUSLY I do NOT want to know this shit. Plus there's a monetary equation here in that the pharmacy was running an hour and a half behind so he left the rx and I get to drive over and pick him up and take him there again tomorrow to pick up the goods. So the whole drive there and back using my gas and time will be for the sole reason that my dad can get laid. Cripes.

To Joe and Barb

Congratulations on the engagement. I wish you both a lovely wedding, many groovy shower/wedding gifts, a nasty honeymoon, and a long life together.

Happy Boobies

Unless you have had a mastectomy, worn a prothesis, had breast reconstruction, and a breast reduction on the "other one" you probably cannot understand my giddiness at wearing a bra. A REAL GIRLY bra with polka dots and a bow bra. I have been terrified of bra shopping not knowing my new size plus the humiliation of having to look in those HUGE surround mirrors at all my scars. So I have spent the last year and a half letting "the girls" flop around unrestrained. Which feels really comfortable by the way. One of my daughters sent me a bra (a FOREIGN bra from England) and low and behold it fit like a glove. So, hence the giddiness and contented ta-tas.

Helen Keller Wept

Here's the dealio; my dad has been blind (as in: HAD HIS EYES TAKEN OUT OF HIS HEAD) since the age of 5. During the time I have been his driver/helper we have encountered some weird requests like the time at the social security office when he went to sign up for benefits and the guy across the desk from him wanted Proof he was blind. But today was a new LOW. Dad trys valiantly to write his signature on all kinds of documents. I would say rarely does his signature ever stay on the line but it has not been a problem before because people figure out he's blind and realize, "How the hell is this guy gonna write straight and on the line?" New girl at bank today says,"He needs to sign for a withdrawal". I say, "He did sign, right here." (thinking she was just reciting her new learned rules.) She says,"It HAS to be on the line." Then I realized she was FREAKIN (that's for you, Joe, didn't want to drop the F-bomb) Bank Teller Serious about that LINE. My brain CRAMPS and all I want to do is SHOUT OUT ,"What Homeland Security Ass Wipe Rule Lovin Monkey is going to care if my dad's sloppy childish penmanship is laying on the line?" But I didn't do that, I folded the withdrawal slip again on the signature line and guided my 75 year old dad's shaky hand where to begin again. Of course he was embarrassed and felt less than whole. But the world's a better place because he got that signature on the line.

Fuckin Amazin

I went to baby shower on Saturday and the new mom and dad were given this gift by 3 different people which is: (drum roll puleeze) a device to test the bath water temp. before plopping the baby in! Lord Help Me I almost had a hole in my tongue from biting it. I realize I am OLD SCHOOL and all but if you're so God Damn dumb you need a tool to help you NOT burn the shit outta your child then you shouldn't be having any kids. Before you send me nasty grams , STOP and think about this..... how did centuries of babies get baths before the Rubber Duckie Temp gauge came along? If we don't use that muscle in our skull it'll atrophy.

Bathroom Doors

I am pondering whether there is a public bathroom in the universe where the metal sliding pin on the door ACTUALLY fits into it's counterpart on the stall doorjam. I've never seen one so I assume they are located as artifacts in a museum.
Who gives a shit? I'm drowning in a pool of unsatisfactory verbs and nouns. Ciao