Wednesday, September 29, 2010

There are things out there, things

Me and my vivid imagination had absolutely no where to be Sunday morning, so we decided to sleep late. The husband, me and the dog slept the morning away, drifting in and out of sleep. We would mumble about coffee, try to get the dog to start the coffee machine. Apparently this was to difficult for her and she lay at the foot of the bed like a slug. Opposable thumbs came up - again and quite frankly, I'm getting tired of that excuse. The coffee is all made, you just have to push the on button, she could do it if she wanted to.
I listened to the birds chirp, would fall back to sleep. I'd be rattled awake by the thump on the roof.
"The hell?" And then I would hear a thwap, thwap, thwap of something with a giant wing span flying away. It happened 3 or 4 times. I just can't win, I either have ducks and geese or creatures from a scientific experiment gone wrong, like in The Mist, landing on my roof to terrorize my neighborhood. Now seriously, I'm leaning towards the ducks and geese because it's morning and everyone knows horrific, scientific creatures come out at night. But what if the creatures got an early start? Shouldn't I shower? I'd hate to be chased out of my neighborhood in my nightgown and bedhead. I'm too tired to run screaming through the streets. I drifted off again.
Half an hour later, I glanced at the dog, she hadn't moved a muscle. It must have been the husband that woke me because he was gone. I hope he starts the coffee. I hope he wasn't dragged out the window by scary, horrific, scientific creatures. There appeared to be no signs of struggle, I'm sure he's fine. My vivid imagination and I went back to sleep.

Saturday, September 25, 2010


Nothing snaps you back into the land of the living faster than spotting a box of GloBalls. Holy Crap. Six individually wrapped coconut and marshmallow covered chocolate cakes with creamy filling. GloBalls.

With a team of doctors working 'round the clock to fix my hormones, I try to go about my weekend without passing out. Wheeling my shopping cart up and down each aisle at the WalMarts, I know I'll get home forgetting more than I remembered. Like for instance bread, yes I forgot bread. It's a simple item, one that you pick up without even thinking each week. But if it's in the same aisle as a box of GloBalls and your brain cells are under the influence of pain medication.................... bread? What is bread? For $2.50 I can own a box of these delicious green coconut GloBalls. I'm so going to the hostess cakes website because now I have to have a Justice League green ring. Who is that green super hero? On the back of the box there is Superman, Batman, a red guy and a green guy. I think the red guy is The Flash. When did this Justice League form, I have no memory of them, then again I can't remember bread............

Thursday, September 23, 2010

I just have to pee

On the road again for the second time this week, the husband and I took off for a 2 hour drive. Now I have a 24 ounce mocha, you know I'm not going to make it 2 hours without having to stop. About an hour in I had to pee like a race horse, but we're have and in depth conversation about cell phones and landlines, the pro's and cons, so I don't say anything. I know he'll have to go soon, his bladder has weakened over the years.
"We're going to have to stop pretty soon."
"I could go." Doh!
We stopped at an upper echelon rest stop, one of those that has everything you could possibly need. A one stop shop. I'm somewhat of an expert at finding restrooms and I see them immediately. The husband is still searching, his eyes darting back and forth, up and down. Either he hasn't spotted the restrooms or he's in awe of the place. "Babe, over there, in the back, see them?" His eyes drifted away from the spinning Slurpee machines. "Oh there they are."
Women to the left and men to the right, also conveniently located in the middle, are 2 "family" doors. Where the hell were those when I was traveling with children? The husband went to the right and I turned left, right into a temporarily closed sign. I peeked around the corner and saw a man cleaning the women's restroom. I could pee in the family restroom if only the door wasn't locked. I side stepped dangerously over the the men's side. Thought about taking a peek around that corner but decided against it. I'll never understand how a bunch of guys could just line up along a wall of stalls, whip it out and pee without batting an eye. Total strangers whizzing away next to each other. Erv once peed next to Cleveland Indian, Grady Sizemore, not many people can say that, Erv can.
Alright one family restroom is the same as the other, doesn't matter if it's near the men's or women's side right? So I turned the knob, hah it's open, it's just too bad there's a man peeing in it.
"What the........? Eff! Are you kidding me. Damn it!" I actually put my hand up to my eyes.
I side stepped back over to my girl side. Please, please come out whoever is in there. Please before this guy comes out of the boy side family restroom. I sent the person behind the locked door very strong mental distress messages............ open, open, open the door and she came out. I quickly ducked into the sanctuary that is the family restroom, with my back against the door, I took a deep breath and then another. Then, get this, I LOCKED the door, because seriously, besides the guy next to me, who in the name of Zeus's butt hole, doesn't lock a public restroom door?

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Who peed in grandma's toilet?

"Did you hear that?"
"Like a beeping?"
"Probably Boy #3 and his video games."
And girlfriend #2 and I continued to watch the season premier of Survivor Nicaragua. Survivor is one of my favorite shows, don't judge me. I seemed to have hooked girlfriend #2 and she's happy to go along the Survivor ride with me.
"I hear it again."
"Yeah, where's the husbands phone? He always leaves it in the living room."
He has a new phone with a stupid ring-tone, it just kind of beeps.
"I'm going to have to pause the season premier. Damn."
I found the phone in our bedroom and I had no idea how to use it, can't check to see if there's a missed call. Damn. The husband and Boy #2 are in the middle of home improvement downstairs, if I go down there, I might never come back up. They'll ask me to hold something for a minute and hours will go by before I get released. But a missed phone call might be from work. Damn.
I went down there. The husband had a blow torch in his hand and some silver stuff in the other. He put the silver stuff down and I dodged out of the way of the blow torch. Boy #2 is lucky to still be alive down here. The husband checked his phone and said, "It was mom, here call her back, it's ringing." I ducked out of the way of the blow torch and grabbed the phone.
"Mom it's Sue."
"Hi, was my son over here today?"
"Huh? Did you stop at your mom's today?"
"No." Torch answered.
"No mom he wasn't there."
"Oh, then it was Boy #2 and girlfriend #2."
I turned my attention to Boy #2, he turned around and I was happy to see he still had both his eyebrows. "Did you go to Grandma's today?"
"No mom, nobody here was over."
"Well then who put my toilet seat up?"
"I never put it up, somebody had to. Somebody was here."
It appears there is a toilet seat mystery over at my sister-in-laws and it was carrying over 7 miles away to our house. We need to solve this pronto, Survivor, Survivor Nicaragua, still on pause. Damn.
I heard a discussion going on in the background and listened intently, well as intently as I could with a blow torch flailing in our laundry room.
With the husband and Boy #2 off the hook the only other possibility was...............the great grandson, the 4 year old. The 4 year peed in grandma's toilet and didn't put the seat down.
"Are you watching that blow torch?"
"Yes, I'm watching the blow torch."
"It's just that you almost torched me twice."
"Go watch your show."
I mentioned on FaceBook last weekend that I would rather stick a fork in my eye than be involved in a home improvement project. That hasn't changed.

Monday, September 13, 2010

10 reasons I'm crabby today

These are not in any order of importance, remember I'm crabby and I shall not put forth the effort.

1. It's Monday.
2. I couldn't get my bra straps in the right spot all day, all day I suffered.
3. I'm 40 something and still treated like a child at work. I get my tedious work done in a timely fashion and don't need to be checked up on. I should have taken school seriously and I wouldn't be in this position, ahhhh to be young and stupid again.
4. My dishwasher is broken.
5. I'm scared Prince Poppycock isn't going to win America's Got Talent. He's made it to the final 4 but I don't think he has a good enough sob story to win over the sappy hearts of the American people. Michael Grimm trots out his aging grandparents every episode. Fighting Gravity gave up a semester of college to follow their dream. The little opera singer is just way to cute and has a voice of an angel, unless she's lip sinking, which I don't think she is but you still have to give her credit for remembering all those Italian words. I'm scared for you Prince Poppycock, I suggest you do some crying after your last performance.
6. I watch America's Got Talent.
7. I found out today that the polar bears in Alaska do not float around on icebergs drinking Coca-Cola. Can you believe we've been dooped all this time? Speaking of dooped how about that Global Warming, huh? Nissan you have got to be kidding me.
8. I broke my ankle bracelet this morning, two minutes before I had to leave for work. I will be finding teeny weeny little beads for all eternity.
9. I have to go to work again, tomorrow.
10. Did I mention it's Monday?
In case I've dragged your spirits down, here is a very funny video from America's Got Talent this year:

Monday, September 06, 2010

Shopping with mother and the two areas I must avoid to maintain my sanity

There are two places in the mall that I must never, under any circumstance let my mother trap me for any length of time. One would be the perfume aisles. I was born with the wrong nose for fake fragrances therefore become nauseated when surrounded by them. Mother walks down the aisles with her arms stretched out, wrists facing up and actually asks to be sprayed by the ladies armed with spray bottles. When she runs out of space on her arms she grabs mine. This has been going on since I was a child and I know I'm traumatized by it, mother thinks it's funny the way I break out into a cold sweat when we get near the perfume section at Macy's. Just imagine the ride home in the car after all that spraying, just imagine it! I also think my sense of smell has been damaged.
Two, and we will tread here ever so gently, the lingerie section. A source of embarrassment stemming from childhood also. It all started when she thought I needed a bra. All her friends were getting to go bra shopping with their daughters, she didn't want to be left out, problem was I didn't really need a bra until I was 16 or so. But she strapped them on me whether I needed them or not. Throughout the years mother has been in search of the perfect fit for me. It became her obsession. She'd drag me over to the bra racks, ha that's funny, bra rack, bra's for racks, anyway she'd say, "Go try this on. Look how pretty it is."
"Can I help you ladies?" This is when she'd bring in outsiders to help find me the perfect fit.
"Yes, we're trying to find a bra to fit my daughter here." And then they would both look at my boobs or lack there of and nod in agreement. An unspoken look of 'she's flat as a pancake, can we help her?' look would come over both their faces.
Off I went into the changing room to try on an array of bra's. Not being the sharpest knife in the drawer it took me several embarrassing episodes like this to realize that all I had to do was say the first one I tried on felt fine. Then suffer for all eternity with an uncomfortable bra.
Finally I've been able to put the bra situation behind me by carefully avoiding the lingerie department whenever shopping with mother. Saturday we went to the mall. She was in search of a camisole, I wasn't. So mother would meander over to the lingerie department and I would say, "I'll be over here looking at shoes mom." Then I would go collect her when I couldn't find shoes I liked, because I can never find them when I'm looking, looking. At our last stop I found her in the back, as I got closer I saw her rummaging through a pantie bargain bin.
my inside voice said to myself.
"Mom did you find your camisole?"
"Nope, you can never find one when you're looking for it."
"I hear you, can't find black sandals on the clearance rack."
"Are you ready to go home?" I asked as I started rummaging too.
"Yes, let's go home. Do you need underwear?"
"Yeah, I can never...."


"find a pair........"


"that I really like."


The words just came out of my mouth, I couldn't stop them, what the hell is wrong with me?

Mother started sifting through the bargain bin like bull in a china shop. "What size? What color? Look at this little bow. Oh this lacy one, the husband will like those!"

Dear God what have I done?

Wednesday, September 01, 2010

The going to Hell thing and where we all plan to meet up when we get there.

Gah! You think I'd get a better response on the post that probably sealed my fate and has sent me straight to hell. I asked for guesses on the two pictures I took and posted. I was shooting for 10, I got two. My feelings are hurt and almost never posted again. I'm thinking about not even telling you where the pictures are from, so there.

We at work, the core group of "going straight to hell" people have decided to meet up at the hell when we get there. One of the women at work said there's a beach so we decide that's as good as place as any to meet. You've got to have a plan. We figure there will be no water and the sand will be real hot. You know how it is when you have to run from towel to towel if you don't have your flip flops? In hell there will be no flip flops, no water and we're pretty sure no sun screen. So it's important to work on your base tan. That's what I've been doing all summer, working on my tan and preparing for hell.

Now last week, Thursday, I dragged my ass out of bed at 4:00 am, managed to shower, get dressed, put make up on and dry and curl my hair. I was picked up by Erv, mom and dad and all of them were showered and had nice hair. They have all decided to go with the gray by the way, I continue to fight it. Anyway off we went to the world renowned Cleveland Clinic, dad was having surgery.
Here is a link from the last post I made after one of Dad's surgeries.

This woman in the picture obviously slept through her alarm, looked in the mirror and thought, "These big lime green curlers in my hair are workin' for me today." Left the house and wheeled her father into the surgery maze along with us, we reunited in the locker room, which is where Erv dared me to take the picture. Did it, going to hell, saw her at breakfast too.

My 2 guessers Carol of Confessions of a Reforming Geek and Leeuna of My Mind Wandered are also my best commentors. They were both right on, although Carol was first and Leeuna kind of followed, but let's face it, it was kind of easy. That's why I don't feel bad not giving out a prize or anything. But thanks for playing sorry I have no parting gifts girls.