That Wonderful Cough Syrup

Besides not operating heavy machinery while on that wonderful cough syrup with codeine, I recommend not operating a screw-driver. Especially a small one. If your towel rack falls off the wall it can wait until you're, for the lack of a better word, sober.
A hand towel rack comes with a small, hard to replace screw. I must have dropped that thing 16 times. But I kept finding it so I kept trying to "fix" the towel rack. I actually had a bead of sweat trickle down between my boobs. I usually would have given up way before that happened. But being under the influence gave me an incredible amount of patients. The towel rack is fixed but nothing else will get done today because of the time spent on that little screw.

He’s Her Favorite

I’ve been doing the Kmart Lay-Away thing since the kids were little. I’ve put more Ninja Turtles in lay-away than you can shake a stick at. I’m not sure why you would shake a stick at anything but it’s the only reference that I could think of to get my point across. A lot of Ninja Turtles. I miss those days; now Boy #1 wants steel toe boots for Christmas. So along with sticking a glamorous pair of steel toe boots in lay-away I’m also going to grab a couple digital frames for the “hard to buy for” parents. The past few years the only things on their Christmas lists have been restaurant gift cards. Actually everybody wants gift cards. It’s like all we do is exchange money at Christmas anymore.

I wanted to buy digital frames last year and never did, which is a good thing because they seem to have gone down in price. At least at K-Mart they have. I just have to get the whole digital, technology idea past my mom. She’s anti-technology. If all she has to do is press a button she might warm up to the idea. The mother-in-law has pictures scattered all over the place, she’ll love a digital frame. She loves anything the husband gets her though, he’s her favorite. Shhhh don’t tell anyone.

Halloween Parade of Prostitutes

I counted about twelve prostitutes walking up to my doorstep this Halloween night. Fishnet stockings, high heels and a little tight dress that goes up to her twat is a prostitute. Their parents are delusional if they think they look like anything else.
"Here honey, have a fun size Kit Kat and go put some pants on."
I thanked the Lord above about 27 times tonight for giving me boys. One of the hookers in training walked by my house 4 times.

NO! No, no, no, oh please, please don't let her be one of Boy #3's friends.

Boy #3 then appeared with his rag tag group of friends. I pointed the prostitute out, at which time the group hid in the bushes.
"That's right baby, you hide from the godless Jezebel. I'm the onliest woman in my boys life."

Too Much Testosterone In My House

“Can I have the remote? I just need to check a score.”

“No. You never just check one thing, you check everything.”

There’s too much testosterone roaming around in my house, a girl can’t sit and watch a movie uninterrupted. I hate football season. And it isn’t like the old days when we all loved the Cleveland Browns, although they are a little hard to love these days, they all like a different team. They have fantasy teams, it’s a world I can never be apart of because it confuses the hell out of me. I’ll have a kid explaining the inter-workings of his fantasy football team and I can only pay attention for so long before my eyes glaze over and I say, “Did you take the garbage out yet?”

I gave up the remote and decided to sit in front of the computer for a while in hopes of being left alone. On my computer screen was more fantasy football. WaiverWire Beta, what the hell? “Can I have the computer? I need to check some stats.”

“Huh?”

“It’s important mom.”

“I had my blog up on the screen. You clicked out of my blog?”

“Yeah…… I uhhh….”

“Fine! How about if I just go do some damn laundry.”

This Quarter is Sticky

Before the sinus medication takes effect I thought I'd try to form a few complete sentences. I don't know what made me remember this cappuccino event, perhaps my latest coughing fit broke a memory through my sinus medicine haze.
If you haven't figured it out already, I'm a mocha cappuccino maniac. I have to stop, I have no control over myself when a Speedway gas station presents itself before me and my car. I can't afford Starbucks all the time. Besides I like to fill my own cup, I have time to wait for the foam to go down so I can fit more of that blessed liquid in. Which brings me to my jogged memory. I made a mess with overflowing mocha, by the time I got to the resister to pay my $1.29 I was sticky. I grabbed a moist towelette and began unstickying. The cashier looked at me and said, "$1.29."
"Uhhhh...... hold on, this quarter is sticky." I washed the quarter.
She looked at me with wide, disbelieving eyes. "No one's ever done that before."
I didn't know how to take that after looking at her face. She either thought I was an angel from above or a certifiable nut case. It was hard to tell.
I like to think she went on to perform a good deed for someone, like on that commercial, I sort of set off a chain reaction. Not the crazy lady she tells all her friends about when they are out for drinks. "Oh here comes the check, everybody wash your money." And then they all laugh hysterically.

Snot

Okay so the over the counter stuff isn't working. The snot is still suck up in my head and sucking all the fun out of my day to day activities. I'll have to break down, hand over the co-pay to see the doctor and hope the fist full of prescriptions are on the first tier of our medical insurance plan. And hope I get the whole thing taken care for $50 dollars or less.
Posting on my blogs has been a challenge. I have great ideas but they are getting caught up in the snot swimming around my brain or all together forgotten once the sinus medicine takes effect. Some day I hope to be able to retrieve them before my head explodes. I'm looking forward to the day that I can bend over and I'll be sure that my eyes will stay in their sockets. Because right now I have to check and make sure they are still there when I straighten up.

My Fingers Won’t Go as Fast as My Mouth.

Whenever I’m asked, “What’s the best advice you ever received?” I never hesitate, my mom told me to take Typing I in the ninth grade. Back then I thought it was the dumbest thing I ever heard. “Typing, hello, I’m going to be an artist.” Twenty some years later I find myself sitting in front of a keyboard, more than half of my waking hours. But my fingers won’t go as fast as my mouth. You keep your jokes to yourself:

Type at $150 Words Per Minute for $99!

Press Release:

Here is another great video review by Lisa, who coincidently writes the blog Lisa Reviews. She writes about how she can write at 150 words per minute with Dragon NaturallySpeaking.

I think one of the key takeaways from her video, the key insight that is, is that she is able to write a lot more in those spare moments of time that she has while she's doing other things. Sometimes it's great to multitask, but it's even more important to be able to accomplish useful goals in those spare two or three or four minute pockets of time that we all experience throughout the day.

With Dragon NaturallySpeaking a four minute pocket of time can translate into 600 words! That could be three or four e-mails or one or two long blog articles if you're a blogger like Lisa.
Slick

For just $99 you can get started with Dragon NaturallySpeaking and have it trained in running in about seven minutes. The software with version 10 is simply amazing.

I have been writing about Dragon NaturallySpeaking for almost 2 years now. I have been able to type at rates of up to 167 words per minute with Dragon NaturallySpeaking. That speed was clocked while I was taking a typing test, but even in practical situations when I factor in not only the time it takes to type, but the time that it also takes to edit the words I typed, the end result is that I can still achieve about 100 words a minute, INCLUDING editing time! J

That is extremely fast, and the inclusion of editing time, speaks to the advances that you can see in version 10 as compared to older versions such as version 8 or version 9. It's a lot easier to edit on the fly with Dragon NaturallySpeaking 10.

So if you're looking for a practical tool for your home office, for your writing or blog work, or even just to keep up with e-mail in your spare time, Dragon NaturallySpeaking can give you the power to write at 150 words a minute for a price that starts at $99. Heck, I think I paid that much almost for my last keyboard so that I wouldn't pound my fingers to death. :-)

Sincerely,
Brett Bumeter
Softduit Media
www.softduit.com
PS this article includes about 376 words that I wrote with Dragon NaturallySpeaking 10. It took me about 3 1/2 minutes to write and edit this article, which is just a little bit better than 100 words per minute and that includes editing time.

It took me about 3 1/2 minutes to write and edit this article, which is just a little bit better than 100 words per minute and that includes editing time.

Politcal Free Blog

I talked politics with the flu shot nurse at work today. She started it. I was put in charge of ushering in the flu shot recipients, having them sign in and requesting which arm they would like the needle to puncture. Thank God they all picked an arm and not a cheek. I really didn't want to get to know my co-workers that well. During a lull in the stream of sleeve rollers the discussion ensued. I opted out of the flu shot and she said, "It's a free country."
I replied, "For a couple more weeks I suppose it is."
She agreed with me.
While I have very strong opinions on the upcoming Presidential election, I've decided to keep it out of my blog. No one is going to change my mind, who am I to think I could change theirs? Since I've decided to keep politics out of my blog, I've also tried to shy away from political blog advertisements on my EntreCard and Project Wonderful widgets. There are quite a few bloggers out there that haven't done their homework and it aggravates me. I have enough gray hair. So consider Farvel Cargo and View of Sue politics free.

Bi-Focal Denial

My eye doctor tells me I’m in bi-focal denial. If not wanting to look like a grandma is bi-focal denial then that’s me. I don’t want a pair of granny glasses perched at the end of my nose. But it’s to that point I’m afraid, unless I give up reading. So right before the blessed holiday spending season I have to come up with some glasses money. Either than or invest in a white cane and another dog. And Buckeye would be pissed if I brought another dog into the house; it’s all about her. I can’t rely on her to usher me around, we’d be chasing squirrels all day and never get anything done.
Bi-focals have to cost more than regular eyeglasses. I spent over one hundred dollars on just a pair of frames last time I bought glasses and today I found a bunch of frames for under thirty dollars at ZenniOptical.com. Holy Crap! The husband can get a new pair too! His and her glasses for Christmas. We get more romantic as the years go by.

I’ll get my bi-focals but I won’t like it and if you have any thoughts of me posting a picture of me and my new glasses, just wipe that thought and image from your mind. Never going to happen.

Blue Sock, Black Sock, Left Sock, Right Sock

After 23 years of marriage, I still can't undo what his mother did to him. The idea of putting one dirty sock inside the other so they remain a "set" until wash day just represents more work for me. With three boys and a husband I sort laundry with a surgical mask, rubber gloves and a set of plastic tongs. Undoing smelly, dirty socks is something I didn't sign up for. I would rather they left the house with un-matched socks.

"You know I had an important meeting today and noticed I had on one blue sock and one black sock."
"You didn't go over to your mother's did you?"

He never puts them in the hamper anyway. Two days ago, I shuffled out for my morning coffee and found a pair of rolled up socks on the kitchen counter. Just to mess with his head I unrolled them and put one in the hamper, left the other one right where I found it.

Mom's Kitchen is Closed

I called in sick again today. I know it's Sunday and the office is closed, but I wanted to make it clear that Mom's kitchen is closed too. I must have told the husband 47 times today, "I'm not cooking. Make sure you tell the boys that when you talk to them." I don't want anyone wandering around in my kitchen looking for a home cooked Sunday meal.
I also called in sick to a baby shower I was suppose to attend this afternoon. You know it's a shame to miss them, bummer. But the way my extended family has been multiplying they'll be another one soon.
It's time for my nap now. Being sick is a drag. I need to assure the daughter-in-law that I didn't catch this from her. It's an allergy related thing. Guilt is tool I wield very carefully, I never even thought to blame her for this. A burrito from Chipolte would make me feel so much better though.

Chugging Nyquil

The dog watched with interest as I rummaged through my closet for something comfortable to wear. I was home sick yesterday and she was very curious as to why I was home with her. I dragged myself out of bed at about 11:30, took a shower and dressed myself in my kids hand-me-downs. I resembled a skater-dude. I looked at myself in the mirror and said, "Are you comfortable?" Shook my head yes and made some tea.
The dog spent the afternoon playing outside while I caught up on my recorded episode of the freakshow that is Heroes. Which I should post on later if I can wrap my head around it and all it's freakiness.
I'm hoping that by tomorrow I'll be able to breath through both nostrils at the same time, simultaneously without my mouth hanging open. Really, I don't think that's asking too much but should the congestion continue, I will at least take comfort in my bottle of Nyquil.

Chocolate Attack

During my frantic search for chocolate I ran across one solitary piece of Bubble Yum bubble gum. Ohhhhh! I haven't had a piece of Bubble Yum bubble gum in about 10 years. Along with the gum, were an wide assortment of forgotten candy, stuck up in a bowl on the top shelf of my cupboard. Two stale Hershey's Kisses were eaten immediately and then I popped the gum in my mouth. Who knows how old it was, but I'm still chomping on it. I blew a couple bubbles near the dog and her ears stood up inquisitively.
When the chocolate fix was taken care of, I went on to looking for my scrub brush because sometimes I clean stuff. Right there is where I found my Halloween candy stash. Doh! I hid so well this year it withstood a chocolate attack.

Did He Just Dis' Me?

Yes, the joys of parenthood came to a crashing halt when I opened the cell phone bill. Events spiraled out of control as I investigated the added charges.
Boy #2 received, from mommy and daddy, a new phone for his birthday last month.
"What's this megabytes charge?" I asked Boy #3, because he's the all knowing, 21st century, techno terminology guru in the house.
"It's memory."
"Oh................ Well, why is his $62.38 and yours is only a $1.99?"
Boy #3's eye's lit up and he grinned, that 'I didn't do it this time' grin.
The birthday phone came with a free month of internet, and that's it, I didn't sign anything.
"I'm calling about this charge."
As the evening progressed the husband barely showed interest, just an occasional glance over the newspaper.
When finally I got a human on the other end of my land-line, I explained, "I'm calling about my bill, it's a little higher than usual."
At the other end, I heard, "Wow, $842.56."
"Whaa..... no. $62.38."
"Ma'am, your bill is currently $842.56. It's from the internet usage."

"But.................$842.56? Could you hold on a sec? Go get your brother, tell him to stop using his cell phone, tell him to turn it off now!"
That's when the husband decided to get involved.

I couldn't get through to the woman on the other end of the phone that this was impossible, the best she could do for me was take off 25%.
"I have to call financial services and see if I can get a payment plan." I told the husband.
"Give me the phone."
By the time he got off the phone he had the entire $842.56 credited to our account.
"How did you do that?" I said in utter disbelief.
"All I did was introduce logic into the conversation."
"Kids, leave the room, mommy's going to hurt daddy."

Anti-American, House Disturbing, Phone Book Droppers

I don't know, to me it looks like I have enough phone books, but "they" continue to drop them at the bottom of my driveway. And I continue to drag them into the house and pile them up on that shelf. "They" once dropped one on my front steps at 10:00 at night, breaking one of those little plastic American Flags that I had stuck in the ground for the Fourth of July, setting the dog into a barking frenzy and startling the husband out of a sound sleep on the recliner. Those Anti-American, house disturbing, phone book droppers are pissing me off.

The Home of the Brave

Seven years ago I sat at my desk at work listening to the radio with Bob the copy machine repairman. We listened to the tragic day unfold. I remember stepping outside for some air and noticing how still the sky was and quiet. I guess it shouldn't have surprised me when I went out for the mail this morning at work that I had that same feeling.
It was 9:30 in the morning and the air was still, I looked up at our flag and it just hung there, half staff, unmoving. By the time I left work a breeze had picked up and the flag was waving proudly. It was as if the flag was quietly morning the events of September 11, 2001 along with the rest of the country. And then it picked itself up again, to carry on bravely.

Paycheck Draining Kids

With my recent bombardment of post ideas, I decided to set a few of my brain cells aside to figure out why. Why all the sudden ideas? What’s different now, late in the summer as opposed to early in the summer? And since my brain has been chugging along rather smoothly these last few weeks, I figured it out pretty quick. I’m a freakin genius lately.
And here’s what I came up with, there are no paycheck draining parties on the horizon. No party bills looming in the distance. No more looking into the eyes of the husband and saying, “How are we going to pay for that?” The graduation party is over and the wedding is done. And if those boys pull any of that kind of planning again, I’m putting them up for adoption. I don’t care if they are 22 and 19. I’m keeping the 16 year old, only because as I said in a previous post, I’m living with him when I get old.
I still have some of the booze from the wedding sitting by my fireplace. I haven’t decided if I’ll turn to that when paying the bills we’ve accrued or consolidate debt. Because I’m pretty sure Santa’s isn’t bringing me jewelry this year unless I figure something out. So it’s time to smoosh all those credit cards together in to one payment, debt consolidation. No time to waste, diamond earrings are on my Christmas list!

The Old Lady and Her Walker on Wheels

Homeowners must be ever vigilant when it comes to accidents on their property. When I peered out my living room window Sunday afternoon I sprang into action. Grabbing the closest Boy available I steered him towards the window and said, "See that lawsuit waiting to happen?"
"The old lady and her walker on wheels?"
"Yes, run honey, run like the wind and stop the dog from bolting after her and barking until she keels over dead of a heart attack or breaks a hip."
"I'm all over this mom."
Who sends their aged loved ones with a walker on wheels out alone for a Sunday stroll? Thanks to me and my nosy neighbor tendencies the old lady passed the house without incident.
"Bring that dog in, she can't get too far. She'll be wheeling the walker back around for a return trip."

Lady Zipper

"What the hell did I mean when I wrote that down?" I asked myself.
Do you have a list of "Blogging Ideas" sitting next to your computer? I do, but apparently I need to be more specific when writing notes to myself. Last weekend when ideas were spewing from my brain I went fumbling for my list. With a big grin, because I'm thinking, "this one's going to be good" I started to write ideas under the words Lady Zipper. Each time I came back to the list I kept looking at the words Lady Zipper. About the fifth trip to my ever growing list, my grin started to fade. The words Lady Zipper were bursting my bubble. I real drag on my idea explosion.
Two days later my Alzheimer's moment was over, ohhhhhhhh that's what I meant.

In the ladies room at a wedding the week before Boy #1's, I emerged from the stall. Washing my hands while one woman was putting on lipstick and an other was emerging from her stall.
"Ladies, I need some help." Says the emerging woman. Lipstick woman headed for the exit and before I could even say, "Would you bring me a vodka and orange juice?" she was gone. I took a deep breath and asked what was wrong.
"I just need help with this darn zipper."
"Oh, no problem." What a relief it's just a stuck zipper. Several problems ran through my head and none of them as easy as a stuck zipper. I'll be back to my vodka and orange juice within minutes. Except the zipper wouldn't budge, that was one stuck zipper. It wouldn't go up or down. Damn that lipstick lady being closer to the exit than me! Do I have to stay in the restroom with this woman all night, while the ice in my drink melted?
"It's just not going to move."
"That's does it, I'm taking this dress back."
Yes, tomorrow you can but what about now, will we be leaving the restroom tonight? Cause you can't go out there like this. Obviously you thought a bra wasn't needed for this blessed occasion and I don't have a safety pin.
That's what I said inside my head, what came out was, "Uhhhhhhh, but......"
"Oh I have a sweater."
"Great, a sweater, I'm going to head back to my table, see you on the dance floor."
As I left I'm saying to myself, "I'm so blogging about this. I have to write this down when I get home."

Nervous American Broad

I've posted about my dry cleaners experiences before, they're some kind of Asian couple. They speak broken English to me and the other customers, but when I first walk in, before the door has a chance to chime announcing my presence I hear them speaking in their native tongue. Chinese, Japanese, Korean, I don't know it's all Greek to me. He is usually yelling something from the back while working the big shirt press. He's a scary little dude. Not because he's Asian, but because he reminds me of a Vietnamese military prison camp guard. That's not racist, is it?
I just have a vivid imagination and war movies are on the TV a lot with three boys and a husband. I'm outnumbered. He does look like he's been in a Chuck Norris movie though.
She usually gets my shirts, takes my money and tells me to have a nice day. Last week I heard her in a little room but he approached the counter.
'Oh God please don't let me say anything stupid. Say nothing, just shut your mouth, no eye contact.'
I'm my own best friend when it comes to advice.
I made it to my car with clean shirts and all my fingers. I leaned over to file away my receipt and put my purse down when I heard a gentle tapping on my window. After totally freaking myself out it was inevitable that when I turned and saw him peering in my car window that I would jump out of my seat with a "Don't Kill Me" look on my face. I think I scared the poor guy. He held up four fingers and said, "Four shirt, four?"
Words escaped me, I nodded yes and he went back into the dry cleaning facility probably muttering to himself, "Nervous American broad."