Be An Original

When I die...

2010-05-13T14:46:00.000-07:00

One day, when I leave this world, I would like to be remembered for my great attitude and high-energy; not my crabiness and drama.

One day, when I leave this place, I would like to be thought of when someone hears "Legs" or "Shiny Happy People", not "Crazy Bitch" (well, maybe), or "Promiscuous Girl".

When I die, I'd like to be remembered as the girl who wrote funny stories and made a difference; not the girl who hurt people purposely and believed she was beyond beautiful, and all men wanted her.

When I leave this Earth, I want the people I loved to brag about how I spoiled them... how I loved them... and how I thought of them before even considering myself. I want to be remembered as the girl who loved to love.

And no, I'm not planning on dying anytime soon :)

-The End

A Year Since Damn-It: Happy Mother's Day!

2010-05-07T09:34:00.000-07:00

I've been reading back through blog entries from 2009 today. I can't believe how many posts mention my children, and the crazy ass things they do! Many of the things they say and do are completely worthy of a blog... even if it's just for my own collage of memories. Some of the stories tend to amuse others, even outsiders, which makes me happy!
Here is a favorite of mine from June of last year. It walks the reader through the creative sundae-making process of 3 young children. Enjoy: http://kellysoriginals.blogspot.com/2009/06/water-coffee-creamer-baby-carrot.html

Now that Joel has a new home, and the kids spend just as much time there as they do here with Dan & I, I miss them like crazy when they are away. Let me rephrase that... the first day is like heaven... free as a bird heavenly. By day 2 I miss them like crazy. I will still never, ever understand how parents or grandparents can, by choice, spend months away from their children or grandchildren. Those kids, along with Dan and my friends, are my life.

Anyway, often after day one of having the babies back at our house, I'm usually ready to ship them back to Daddy's for a while. The feeling passes, and you may think I'm terrible for feeling that way, but the time we spend with them is precious time, and we both know that.
So, today I am reminded why I became a Mom. Two stories, two kids, one very amused me.

Story 1) Logan (3 1/2) is obsessed with bananas. He loves them. He loves to peel them, look at them, eat them... he's just a banana kid. I have no complaints... they are cheap and easy... just as I like em. Logan & I spent some quality 1:1 time together this morning while the twins were at preschool. I'm still banned from work until my eye has been drenched in antibiotics for 24 hours, and since the doctor prescribed me SULFA, which I'm crazy-allergic to, I'm back to square one. I'm not feeling too terrible at this point honestly, so being banned from work for a day isn't such a problem.
Okay, so I got off-track there... Before Logan & I left the house to pick up the twins from school, he asked if he couldn't have a banana (his second of the day). Me, being the push-over that I am, said yes. We got into the van and Logan peeled his banana, and quickly ate through 1/4 of it. While we were waiting in the parking lot, I took a picture of him happy with his nanner...

I cranked up some music so he'd have some tunes to go with his 5th snack of the day, and soon I hear, "MOM!" (in Logan-speak)... "Turn 'at down!" I looked back at him and he had the most annoyed look on his face. Once he saw I was paying attention, he got very serious and said, "Mom, this nana is igusting (that's Logan-speak). It has poop in it"... I started laughing like a hyena and watched as Logan spit out the pointy end at the bottom of his stick of fruit :P I'm not sure how many bananas will be in his immediate future. He was thoroughly "isgusted". Note to readers: Don't consume the point of a banana... it apparently has poop in it. :)

Story 2) Abbigail & Aiden ran out of school, armed with plants they had potted for me for Mother's Day, and cards with their pictures on them. I nearly started crying, but then remember that my "bad" eye would pay hell for that, so I sucked it up and gave them hugs (no eye contact involved thankyouverymuch).

As we were driving down the road, the kids and I spotted a few yard/garage sales (an everlasting weakness of mine... trash to treasure and all that jazz). I asked them if they would like to have a yard sale, because Mommy, Daddy and Dan all have some things they could probably sell. I also explained to the kids that if they wanted to put some of their toys, etc. in the sale, they could keep the money. They liked this idea, and immediately starting racking their kid brains for sellables :)

After they yelled out the names of a couple of toys, Abbi said, "Mom! I know! That blue blanket! I want to get rid of that. I'll sell it. All I use it for is to wipe my boogers on". Oh my God! The banana incident didn't even register in my brain after that very honest confession! I cracked up! Abbi did not understand why. As I laughed, she worriedly asked me if I was okay, and if I was still happy with my cards and plants. She was clueless... completely, honestly clueless.

These kids make me who I am. I'm glad the combination of our sick, twisted personalities are rubbing off on them. They will never been ordinary. They are kooks! And I love them just as they are.

One year ago Sunday, Abbigail said "Damn-it" for the first time. I look forward to what this Mother's Day will bring. The kids have a whole day to out-do themselves, although I'm not sure the blue booger blanket is beatable, honestly.

Sprawls and Snuggles

2010-05-06T13:55:00.001-07:00

The other night I was talking to Dan about how making him and the babies, and people in general, happy makes me happy. I like to do things for other people, especially the people I love. I don't necessarily need credit (although a huge pet peeve of mine is someone else getting the glory for something I've worked very hard on), and I don't always need thanked. If I've done something nice for someone, it brings me real joy. I don't think the joy comes from the actual deed... I think it comes from the reaction and the feeling. Having someone do something to show you they care, appreciate and love you is an amazing feeling; Being the giver gratifies in equal measures.

While we were talking, Dan reminded me that making time for myself is important, too. I sort of blew off the comment (sorry Dan ;) and went about my merry way. But today, after being sent home from work due to a mean case of pink eye, and having time to think, I realize how much I've actually slowed down in the past few months. It's really hard to enjoy life's experiences when we're in motion constantly... especially when we're running 90-miles an hour with sweat pouring and life slapping us in the face, telling us to slow the hell down. That would be me on a frazzled day. ;)

Anyway, not too long ago, I would feel guilty for just sitting down and watching a TV show. I would have to fold laundry, clip coupons or be busy doing some other random task, because I didn't want to "be lazy"... Don't get me wrong, I still multitask (I wouldn't be me if I didn't), but my very favorite thing to do now is just veg, snuggle, watch a show, maybe have a drink and dinner... just be totally & completely content with doing nothing. I realized today that this (and the occasional nap) is what I do for myself.

When I got home today, the kitties greeted me at the door, and when I went to nap my pink eye away (it didn't work damn-it!), Sasha curled up at the end of the bed, and shortly thereafter, began snoring happily. I took a peek at her, and she was completely sprawled out, happy and content.

The moral of my story? It's okay to be like a cat sometimes. They do nice things for people without even trying. They bring joy just by being present. They nap and are completely okay with being utterly comatose. While we can't spend all of our days that way (and let's face it, how boring would that be?), it's okay to be free like a feline now and again.

A Damn Good Life

2010-04-20T12:37:00.000-07:00

Recent Months in Pictures...
and then a story to lift your spirits, and your attitude :)

My babies
Easter 2010
(Thanks to Jennifer Tackett of www.photoreflect.com. Jennifer and her beau do BEAUTIFUL work!)

My sweetheart
Dan & I, March 2010
Memphis, TN

Our Sasha
(who I have to post an old picture of, because as of late, she's just a bitch:)

Dan's Kitty, Prowler
One of the most affectionate cats I've ever had the pleasure of knowing... and loving (just don't tell Dan;).

My new do.
Just because there always has to be a self-centered picture of me on my blog entries :P

This is what my desk looks like on a frazzled day :)

At work we host an activity we call "Remember When..." It's a group of folks who are alert & oriented, and some not-so-much, reminiscing about their childhood, school days, pets who have warmed and broken their hearts, the love of their lives, and so on... I love this activity because, although a resident may not know today's date or what he ate for breakfast that morning, he remembers "Esther", stares into the air lovingly and daydreams about their days together, rattling off nicknames and memories... walks they took together, places they dined, picnics they went on, music they danced to... and on and on...

I found myself thinking today, not only of the memories we create every single day, but also how the rush of every day life can so simply smoothie itself into a blender of chaos... all of the potential memories can so easily be lost among bills, chores, events we just couldn't say no to (even though we desperately wanted to) and burying ourselves in our work, whether it be at home or in an office.

I wonder if when our generation is in our 70s and 80s, will we "Remember When..."? Will we be able to see the face of the person we deeply loved, with closed eyes, and remember the sweet memories we created (or should have created) together? Will we be able to remember our girls' nights out, or what an impact our children, pets, friends and coworkers had on our lives. Will we have had an impact on theirs?

It's a sad truth that so many people enter work before dawn and leave long after the sun has said goodnight... that people dream of being someone they're not, spend their whole life living up to a standard they will never reach, when all the while, they could have been molding themselves into an amazing individual... someone who would be remembered for their uniqueness... someone who made a mark in history... even if it was just on the heart of one person.... someone who made beautiful memories.

I've learned in recent months to enjoy the small things, and I'm learning not to worry so much about the craziness of life which simply can't be controlled. I have learned to hold my babies, Dan and the kitties tight, take the time to snuggle and listen, enjoy the present, and know that we are all making beautiful memories to share in the future. I want to remember my life as it is... because it's a damn good life.

Happiness is...

"The Tapestry of the Human Experience"

2010-01-31T09:41:00.000-08:00

Some People Just Don't Get It...

My very intuitive, well-spoken, friendly and fun Facebook friend Wayne started a conversation earlier that quite honestly can't be ignored, or left to disappear under the rubble that is Facebook. With Wayne's permission, I am copying and pasting the conversation. As I'm sure there will be more posts in response to Mr. Rowe's original entry, I will continue to add to this post, as I believe this is a conversation that many people can relate to. If you are one of the non-labeling, unique, beautiful ones, *big kisses and hugs to you*... on the other hand, if you are one of the gossiping, superior pains in the ass Wayne speaks of, get a life... *flips you the bird*... there, now you have something new to bitch about. ;)

Enjoy the posts. I sure am!

Wayne: IF YOU LABEL ME, YOU NEGATE ME ... People who try to label others or themselves don't appear to grasp the complexity of life & the human soul. We are not young or old, straight or gay, black or white, fat or skinny, short or tall, ugly or pretty. We are our own unique collection of intellect, experience, virtu...e, and emotion. This is the tapestry of the human experience.

Kelly (that would be me): Wayne, I love this. It's absolutely true. So many people are so quick to judge, label, put down and bask in their superiority. I truly believe those are the unhappiest people of all. Being unique makes each of us beautiful (or handsome;) and standing out isn't such a bad thing... there are just so many simple-minded people who can't appreciate that. *high-five* to you for calling them out! I LOVE this post!

Wayne: Thanks Kelly! Such an easy thing to spot. Those judging people are out there every day with there label maker putting labels on everyone, when all they had to do was grab a permanent magic marker and write the word "IGNORANT" on their forehead.

Will: Rr you labeling me a simpleton? LOL

Laura: Dude- you know what you are? You are DEEP. (I just labeled you.) And I hate to do this, but in the name of intellectualism I must point out that you labeled people who label people as simpletons and ignorant when people are more complex than that. Good natured ribbing, and I totally get your point but had to say that.

Wayne: Yes I am. LOL I have a Label Baby Jr.

Wayne: Damnit! You and Will are killing me. I am trying to lash out and you masters of lexicon are picking apart my semantics like a government think tank. Dumbing down the meaning with mirrors, magic, and logic. I officially withdraw my simpleton label...due to flawed logic. I hold true to how I feel. (ALL SAID WITH A PARTIAL SMILE AND A FEELING OF WONDERMENT TOWARD 2 PEOPLE I LIKE AND ADMIRE.) Yep, I labeled you a government think tank. :) I will say in all seriousness, the next person that calls me old or refers to me as old, or fat, or whatever I supposedly am, I am going to lose it bad! I don't remember asking anyone what they thought of me. Glad they shared. I am a better and happier person because of their acumen.(This takes a long time to type because I must go to dictionary.com to ensure everything is spelled perfectly or someone will type a correction notice.)

Kelly: Lmfao!!!! The dictionary comment cracked me the hell up! Wayne, with your permission, I would love to post this conversation on my blog. Its priceless, and definitely a subject that sparks a nerve for many folks :) Let me know... And you are NOT old! Or fat! Jeesh! People suck :P Is that labeling? Nah! ;)

Wayne: Go for it Kelly!

Kelly: Woot! You Rock!

Larry: You're intelligent, good looking, and a great friend. Wait, I take that back. Sorry for negating you.

Wayne: Ha, ha, ha... You are pretty cool yourself.

Wayne: Bottom line...most of us have feelings and we know who and what we are. We know our flaws or perceived flaws. We are defined by our own perception and to an extent people around us, at least in their minds. I guess cutting people out of your life that don't have that word filter that keeps you from hurting others is the best medicine. For my part, I try not to label people, but have admittedly done so. For that, I am so sorry.

Kelly: Wayne, I think this is an excellent bottom line. I also try not to label people. We're all only human, and occasionally a label will slip out, or a thought will cross our minds that we're not proud of. I think that's human nature. There are, however, people who have a real problem. I do believe sometimes it's much healthier to cut out those toxic people, and let them meddle in someone else's life. Cutting out those that hurt us doesn't make us mean or judgmental... it keeps us sane. And let's face it, it's much easier to be happy when we're not being watched and judged :)

Fuzz & Fluff

2010-01-26T18:42:00.000-08:00

Beauty in Furr-Form

It occurred to me this evening that I haven't blogged since the new year began. I have lots of happy things to dwell on right now, which is an incredible contrast to some of last year's life changes (see most-recent blog post for details). The holidays were extremely tough, but I had work to keep me busy, and friends to keep me sane ;) Thank God for my babies! They reminded me to keep my spirits up, and I sailed into the new decade quite hopeful... and I haven't been let down. Persistence and patience *sigh* are wonderful qualities. While my persistence is nothing short of one of my finest qualities, patience does not come naturally to me. Quite honestly it doesn't come to me at all. But somehow I've managed to practice it over the past few months. Patience pays off. :0) *big happy smiles*

As I sit here with my new-ish-to-me Himalayan kitty cat, Sasha, I realize that if you have been reading my blog for a while (I've made it past the one year mark, by the way! *self pat on the back... or ass... or wherever*), you probably know that I'm an animal lover. Yes, I have degraded helpless pets in the past by writing mean stories about them, but deep down, I love them to pieces. Sitting here with my lovely Sasha, I can't deny it... I'm smitten with a cat ^^= ♥!

Sasha became part of the family on December 9th of last year. She's been with us for over a month now, and she is an absolute delight! She's good with the kids, although I have decided against getting her declawed, due to the fact that the poor little fluff needs to play defense now and then, and the fact that a kneading, loving cat is just, well... natural. While I have had pet cats declawed in the past, it strikes me as funny now, as we tend to not de-fingernail (or de-toenail, for that matter) humans, unless they have been incredulously naughty (in the bad type of way, not the rawrrrr type of way)... so why subject our poor kitty to the ripping out of the claws. I'd rather not.

As I tend to get off-track, let me get back to the subject at hand, Ms. Sasha. I first learned about the dear poof ball from my best friend Anne. She mentioned that there was a kitty hanging out way out in the country, in the cold and snow, and although Anne's friend and her neighbors were feeding Sasha, she didn't have a real home. This went on for a few weeks. One night Anne sent me a picture of her, and I instantly became giddy! It had been over 5 years since I had a kitty... and I happen to LOVE Himi's and Persians, so this was like a dream come true. I did have plans to get a kitty this year, and that is still the plan (yes, Sasha will soon have a brother or sister... unless they are fond of each other, and then that's just incestuous and gross)... I just didn't count on a beautiful purr baby falling in my lap like she did. I'm thankful for her.

The night Anne took the kids and I out to meet Sasha, I was excited. I had a bit of guilt, because I was intent on waiting for a pet... but as soon as I saw her, I fell in love. I had to have her! She had to come home with me! She was needy for attention, and just beautiful as could be. She looked like an angel, and she had to be mine.

I bought the bare necessities for our girl... litter box, liners, litter itself, a bowl and food. Sasha was a hair skiddish at first (she found comfort under the Christmas tree and hiding in some duct in the basement), but she soon came around! She is now miss sociable Sasha. Everyone that stops over loves her! And it melts my heart when she sits in the window seat in the early mornings, watching the kids and I scoot off for the day. Nearly every morning I hear "bye house, bye Sasha" as we're driving down the road. She's just as much part of this house as our house is now, if that makes any sense. Basically she's a fixture. She moves, but she's a fixture. Huh... moving on... fixing to move on... jeez, just move... :P

While I'm on the topic of pets, my lovely-as-he-could-possibly-be boyfriend sent me a link tonight to a video on youtube. I watched that video, and then I stumbled onto several more. If you are an animal lover, you will find pure enjoyment just from watching this 41 second video by Parry Gripp. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X2F4EFYM_MA&NR=1

And this is the video that made me dig for more: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SMWi7CLoZ2Q&NR=1

And one more... if you are a cat lover, you will appreciate these very useful flushing felines... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hcuv9RuO0NE

Check out youtube for more. The bunny at the end of video number one made me giggle and cry at the same time.

So, in closing, as you've probably heard, people who have pets are happier people. Statistics suck, in my opinion, but this I happen to believe. I truly missed having pets in my life. I'm happy someone neglected their beautiful cat... I'm sorry she spent so many nights in the cold... but I'm happy she became OUR house cat :) She'll be spoiled rotten for the rest of her 9 lives.

Shit Happens :) Happy Shit Even...

2009-12-22T20:18:00.000-08:00

2009 has truly been an amazing year for me. It has been a very pivotal year, an overwhelmingly honest year and, while I realize I will continue to grow and to learn, this is the year that I came into myself... the year I realized who I am, who I want to be and who I want to spend my days with. This will be a year I reflect on for the rest of my life.

My best friend told me not so long ago that more than 3 life changes within a year is too much for any given person. Luckily, because I refuse to believe in statistics (they're always flawed) and enjoy taking my own happy-go-lucky path, I am moving along quite nicely through the life changes that are just continuing to rack up.

1) We nearly lost her. Anne and I have been friends for many years. She and her boyfriend are family to me. As I mentioned in a few prior posts this year, we nearly lost her to a horrid infection. Then, because of both of us being extremely stubborn, we nearly lost each other again. Thankfully we found our way back to our forever-friendship, and now have a new appreciation for one another. I'm thankful for her.

2) The move. We purchased a house on land contract. I fell in love with it. I fell in love with the sun room, the bedroom, the kitchen, the dining room, the big yard, the nice neighborhood... I fell in love with the entirety of my new home. I don't even mind the psychotic man across the street who enjoys calling the police when someone pokes a yard sale sign in his beloved tree.

3) No more Twinfants and Twoddlers. While many people see their kids starting school as just the step following toddlerhood, it was something I have feared and anticipated since they were born. My twins started school this year. It was traumatizing and wonderful for me. My babies are getting old, which means I'm getting old (I also turned 30 this year, but I'm not highlighting that, so forget about it :P). On the rare occasion I get to pick them up from school, they run out to me, full of pure joy, and scream for me! I have to catch my breath when I see how much these little people love me so unconditionally. I've never had that. I now do.

4) The signing. Joel and I signed our divorce papers on November 7th, our 11th wedding anniversary. There is much speculation of why, how, what, when, where, etc, and the God's honest truth is, we were just friends living together. He remains one of my best friends. We both just deserved a chance at finding true love. We were not that for one another.

5) Operation: Reject Kelly. My family no longer speaks to me or my children. I'm simply happy. I'm functional. I'm getting along just peachily (yep, totally made up that word) without the ins and outs of a family whose only respect comes from decisions that are made which match their own very strict and stern beliefs. I'm a better woman having gone through this. And I'm taking a wonderful new path with my children... a path much different than I was accustomed to. This changed my life for the better.

6) Be An Original. I realize that starting a blog isn't life-changing for most, but reading back, I realize how cathartic it has been for me this year. While my entire life is not an open book, I have let the world (or at least my 40 followers :) in on the important bits and pieces which are appropriate for the human eye ;) I'm quite proud that I am following through with this. I look forward to blogging. I love writing. Love it. It's my dream, and damn-it, this is a start :)

7) The One. I fell in love. Absolutely, totally and completely fell in love. Very few people understand it. No one understands it the way we do, but we do, and that's all that matters. I have found everything I wanted and never knew existed. I have found him, and I cherish him.

*7* is a lucky number for many folks (trust me, I was in Vegas 2 very long months ago). I suppose these 7 events, which I consider to all be life-changing, were stepping stones toward meeting myself, the real me. I've found her. I actually quite like her. She's genuine, caring, loyal, loving, adaptable & very capable of loving with her whole heart.

I have truly broken a cycle this year. I can't say I grew a pair (I have the wrong organs for that ;), but I most-certainly grew a backbone, learned to love myself and found what I truly needed and wanted for the rest of my days on this earth... My babies, my friends, my soulmate and myself. I just needed to find myself in order to appreciate the rest.

Happy Birthday to Meeeeeeee!

2009-12-01T18:49:00.000-08:00

Hello darling readers. Today is my 30th birthday you see. It's been 30 years now since the Earth was first introduced to the bald, some-day-blonde, hazel-eyed, pale, blind girl who would eventually become a crazy redhead with an unnerving fire for life, and an extreme passion for her babies and her soft spot, who shall remain nameless for now...

At dinner (complete with dongs and drinks)

My birthday began on a bright note this morning. The twins woke me up (rather quietly... the shock!) by telling me happy birthday. Logan followed suit, and while the rest of the world could have no way understood what the child was saying, I did. And it was music to my barely-awake ears. My babies love me :)

I climbed out of bed reluctantly (as always), and started to pour juice, hand out Poptarts (I know... Mom of the year), get kids dressed and throw myself together enough to leave the house, clad in sweats and a t-shirt with my coat thrown over it. I didn't put on a stitch of makeup (I'm really growing up!) before we left the house. I did, however, stop at McDonald's for a wonderful sweet tea... the first of my birthday sweets.

I took the kids to Joel's parents' house because I had lunch plans today, and surprise plans tonight. I came home, hopped in the shower, got prettied up (curls, red lipstick, hose, skirt... the works), and then received a happy birthday call, which made me very happy :)

My friend was supposed to pick me up at 1pm. She didn't show up. I'm worried about her, because I couldn't get in touch with her. I wasn't upset or anything... I found some humor in eating Spaghettios instead of dining with wine at the Cheesecake Factory. I dressed up for Spaghettios. How lovely :) *cackles*

Ready to go out (and praying I don't get stood up twice ;)

After eating my Spaghettios (I don't even really like Spaghettios, except for the meaty balls), I decided to eat a cupcake. Then another... courtesy of my ex-husband's girlfriend. Yes, that's right, I not only dressed up to sit on the floor, watch Young & the Restless and eat half-cooked Spaghettios. I also dined on cupcakes the ex's chick baked. Conventional birthday lunch? No. Funny enough to blog about? Surely! *more giggle fits*

This afternoon I decided to take a nap... on my curls. I woke up a few times, because I refused to turn my phone off, but enjoyed the rest. I woke up a bit smeared (mascara) and with a bit less pizazz on top of my head, but I didn't care. I love sleep, and a quiet house and a nap on my 30th? Near bliss!

I talked with handsome and then with my friend Amy, and then started to get ready (once again) for my surprise. My friend Candise picked me up and we meandered to the Mexican restaurant. The waitress came out and immediately asked for our drink order (I would later have my picture taken with her). Without hesitation, I ordered a strawberry margarita. "Small, Medium or Large?" "Large of course!" This damn drink was literally as big as my head! And they don't scrimp on booze! It was loaded with tequila! LOADED! Let's just say by the end of dinner, I had finished off that 45-oz glass (with a sipper beside me) and I was flying high.

Miss Amikens (aka Twan): This chick & I have been friends for 25 years! My GOD! We should get drunk more often!

Cute little Innocent Ash

Candi Cox :P (LMAO)

Beautiful Whit and Hot Little Hunter, the stripper :P

Rainbow, Shannon & the Stripper in Action ;) LOL

Rainbow (also known as Shelly, Shell and Michelle)
We've come a VERY long way! ****MUAH****

I opened my gifts, and just about died when I opened a giant ding-a-ling I was NOT expecting from my sweet, innocent coworker! The fact that it was from her cracked me the hell up! I also received darling coffee mugs (I'm addicted!) and many other fabulous gifts. THEN the waiters and waitresses came out with my HELLO KITTY CAKE! That's right! For my 30th birthday, I got a HELLO KITTY CAKE! And I LOVED it! One single candle. One happy Kelly.

She Just Rocks!
(I will be getting a Hello Kitty tat on my foot sometime in the no-so-distant future)

I cut the cake and can happily report that no one has yet eaten miss Kitty's face. Because of this, I stuck my straw in her nose and proceeded to suck. The cake was lovely and yummy, and no, the new girlfriend did not bake it. Thank you L&P!

What happens when dongs and drinks collide.

Miss Amikens brought me home and we chit-chatted a bit before she left me for dead. Haha! Just kidding! I quickly ran down to the computer to post pics on Facebook. I had a wonderful time, and was anxious to show my friends :)

Just a bit ago, while I was on the phone (yep, again), I was unknowingly receiving text messages from an irate family member, telling me that the family did not divorce me (see previous posts). When you haven't heard from your parents, brother or sister for well over a month after asking them to get ahold of you if they decide not to cut ties, it's sort of an unspoken message... we're done with you. I've heard that message loud and clear (3 times in my life now), have come to terms with it, and have moved on.

In the next breath, I was told that we all need to be grown-ups and move past this. HA! I will NEVER, EVER let people come into and out of my children's lives the way they have been in and out of mine.

They critique my parenting, my decisions, my life in general, and now I admit it... yes, I am done. I am no longer staying in a dysfunctional situation knowingly. I AM an adult now. I'm making this decision for my children, myself and our well-being. Those family members who have walked in and out of my life? They are my past. The babies, my friends and him... they are my future.

Happy Birthday Kelly.
I love you.

A Guide to Enjoying the Holidays: The Art of Pissing People Off :)

2009-11-27T20:41:00.000-08:00

Let the Trampling Begin... :)

I didn't partake in the Black Friday madness today. I did, however, have a pissy moment at the gas station at 7:45 this morning, where a man, obviously going through his midlife crisis, pulled his pimp car up WAY too far, blocking my gas pump and his. ASS! I'm sure his 20-year old girlfriend sent him out for tampons or something, and he realized almost too late that she ran his new red sports car out of gas while she was out partying last night. I'm positive he was having a pissy morning as well, but seriously! I just wanted some gas, Ass!

I remember going Black Friday shopping several years ago. I don't remember all of it. I do recall being extremely friendly to the evil shoppers, and them NOT appreciating my happiness whatsoever. I was fine with that. You see, I like making people happy, but if it's impossible, I am quite happy with pissing them off with my happy demeanor. Either way, I'm happy. It's their choice if they don't wanna turn that fuckin' frown upside down! Asses!

One year, I was wrapping paper shopping at Walmart with my friend Anne right around Christmas time, and our fellow piss-filled shoppers were just lovely, and full of holiday joy. Hateful stares and covered carts, the pissies holding on for dear life to their cheap-ass Bath and Body Works wanna-be $5 gift sets and Puking & Pooping Elmos, or whatever the current HOT item was! I remember being so thoroughly amused by these rotten-to-the-core Walmart folk I started to shake my wrapping paper roll (Disney Princesses... HOW did I remember that?) at them... and it didn't stop there!

When we got out to Anne's car, I proceeded to roll my window down and shake the roll as she was driving. I hope I gave some people some laughs! I'm sure most of the idiots thought I was psychotic (they're not too far off), but they didn't realize that being crazy-happy is much more enjoyable and fulfilling than being down right spiritless. Seriously, can you imagine one of those frowning fogies holding a wrapping paper roll out of the passenger side window, shaking it at passing traffic, laughing uncontrollably, and wishing the local news station was there to photograph their holiday joy? No damn way!

Christmas, and the entire holiday season (I'm quite fond of 8 Crrrrrazy Nights as well. Thank you Adam Sandler), has always been a joy to me. You see, we spend hours upon hours wrapping dozens of gifts that will be ripped apart within seconds (unless you have one of those annoying family members who just HAS to save the "gorgeous" gift wrap). And the whole decorating the tree on Christmas Eve thing? What the hell ever! My tree is up and ready to rock RIGHT NOW... I'm not going to decorate a stupid 7' tree (plus the 2 smaller ones I have) and leave it up for ONE FREAKIN' DAY! Seriously?!?! Why torture yourself? That's stupid!

One of my best friends, who shall remain nameless, once set her Christmas tree up and just never took it down. I like this idea. While I enjoy looking at the individual ornaments each year (they all have a story) and ooohing and ahhhing (or vomiting) over the memories attached to each of them, just carrying the damn plastic tree out to the shed fully decorated, and dragging it in once a year for a month or so, sounds rather appealing. And just think! There will be new ornaments each year! I'm sure creepy crawly creatures, and rodents of all types would find their way into the fake-as-snowman-poop tree. Hmmmm *pondering*...

All joking aside *manly burps* ;), I do love this time of the year. I also think it would be MUCH more spirited and fabulous if evil people would just stay home and hibernate like bears. I understand, grouchy grinches, that you don't care for holiday crowds and picked-over cheap-as-hell gifts (because the economy has screwed us all, and no one has any damn money to spend this year)... HOWEVER! It's not all about the stuff! My kids have toys in the bottom of their toy boxes I could wrap up and they would never even remember that they existed before this.. AND clothes?!? Kids don't look at clothes when they open them... they just rip them out of the box, and throw them as far away as they can to make room for MORE USED TOYS! YAY!

See, there are solutions to all of your holiday predicaments. Feel free to post questions below for holiday-inspired cheery advice. I promise to answer within a timely manner... and ALL questions will be answered BEFORE Christmas 2010.

Everyone, cheer the hell up, and Happy Holidays!
Kell :)

Happy Thanksgiving -Double Divorced :)

2009-11-24T19:07:00.001-08:00

So if you check my blog often and eagerly only to be disappointed because I'm a total slacker, you may be surprised that I am actually blogging twice in a week! This is a rare occurrence as of late.

While I could easily blame my lack of blogging on busyness, I won't. I tend to make time for most things I need to or want to do, if they hold any interest to me. Honestly, my heart has been so rollercoaster-y lately, I haven't had the umph, pizazz or normal bullshit attitude to blog properly. And I refuse to post a non-proper entry. Proper to me is cursing, plotting, making fun of folks and turning generally boring objects into fun, sexy, beautiful and rancid joyballs (those small things that make us oh, so happy)... for a spot on example, check out my post "Heda Lettuce"... It's a riveting illustration of stupid humor at its finest.

If you take life too seriously, and don't care for hardcore situations being made into light and fluffy, mushy, soupy stuff, you should stop reading now. This will save me from receiving hateful comments (although they are always welcomed and appreciated), and will save you from having the blood boiling throughout your body, putting you in the hospital with some explosive blood disease... and don't try suing me! Do you know how f'ing easy it is to delete a blog? I know from experience, because I deleted my weight-loss blog, which I only had intentions of keeping for one inspired day. Yeah, try to sue me, and I'll prove this post never existed :P *evil cackles*

I warned you! This is your last chance NOT to read on.

The controversial topic I will be talking about today, my dear readers, is divorce. You see, my husband of 11 years (we've been together for 15) and I have decided to go our separate ways. Actually, we are agreeing upon almost everything (I want those damn red gym pants back, Joel!), which is making the process much easier, because we are going with a dissolution. And thanks to Joel being of the law enforcement variety, we even got a discount on that! So, while getting married is much cheaper than divorcing (in the most literal terms), both can bring just as much peace and harmony to one's life. Joel and I are a perfect example of that.

Although the decision to divorce was primarily mine, Joel and I both agreed that we would both be happier going our separate ways. Because of the divorce, and me being the named "bad guy" in the situation (which by the way, marriages don't end because only one of the people in it sucks... it can be rather a mutual fuck-up)... my parents divorced me.

That's right. I now no longer have a husband (though we remain friends most of the time), I also don't have a family. The entire family disowned me and the babies. Not only am I ruining my kids lives you see, I'm also going to burn in hell once my Earth life is over, due to leaving a friendly companionship of a marriage. I would like to check and see if living a lie to keep a family together works out peacefully and wonderfully in the end, but I have decided not to stick it out to try it. I'll leave that to them.

I believe that our time on this planet should be happy. I believe that if you are knowingly staying in an unhappy, discontented situation, you are doing yourself an incredible disservice.

My babies will learn from me that it's okay to take your own path... even if it's at the disgust of others. And it's okay to make decisions that others don't agree with. That's life. We can't please everyone.

I have learned that I am an extremely strong person. I didn't take a chance when I made my decision. I KNEW it was the right decision for myself and the kids, and Joel too. While things are difficult right now in many ways, I'm truly feeling happiness. I am exhausted and getting used to being a single mother of 3, but I'm content with my new life. People see it. Friends at work have noticed. My oldest, closest friends see it. My kids see it.

If I were to do it all over again, would I disappoint them? Yes! I've been doing it my entire life. There is no winning them over. I've tried to gain their love and respect for years upon years. Unconditional love is apparently optional in this situation. My parents have been on 2 year+ long hiatuses from me before this... it's not a new feeling. But it didn't become bearable until I realized I can make my life what I want it to be! With or without the help of my fair-weather family.

Will I ever divorce my children? No! I've lived it and learned from it, and I know that taking hiatuses from my children is not ever going to be an option. They are my beautiful and wonderful, and we created them. No way will I ever let them go! My love for them... it is truly unconditional.

I have had an outpouring of support from my wonderful friends! I'd try to list them all, but then I'd forget people, and that would piss them off... and then I would have to keep editing this damn post, and as mentioned above, I am a blog slacker recently. I must not be bothered by editing. I'm proud enough when I get it typed once.

I do thank my friends for believing in me! For seeing the reality of the situation, and for not judging me. Very few people have given me negative feedback about this decision. My family just happens to be part of that little group. Even my Christian friends have had my back, and I thank you guys for that! You truly rock!

Today for Thanksgiving, I received two generous invitations to dinners. I also worked this morning voluntarily. I did decide to stay home after work and relax my day away. I knew the kids would be happy and giddy to be having Thanksgiving dinner at Mama and Papa's (Joel's parents). And I was quite content knowing that they would be coming home to me this evening. I do hope my old family had an enjoyable Thanksgiving.

I will never regret shooting for the stars. I will never be sorry that I chose to make all 5 of us happy (some sooner than others) and I will ALWAYS remember those of you who have been here for me, and I'm letting go of those of you who have not.

Friends TRULY ARE the family we choose.
I'm thankful for you.

Shake the Glitter Off Your Clothes (The Vegas Experience)

2009-11-18T17:04:00.000-08:00

Oh Vegas. Vegas was a few weeks ago, and I've been quite on the fence about blogging our adventure, because a) I was a bad girl, and b) because of a, the memories, fabulous memories, are a bit of a hazy blur.

Angie, Beth, Linda and I started our vacation at (I believe it was) 6:30am on Saturday, October 24th. At that point, I was in a sleepy, splendid, excited stupor, awaiting the plane ride, and the landing in Vegas, where I would see PALM TREES! My love for these amazingly funny-looking trees is almost overwhelming... so much so that, at one point during our vixen vacation, I hugged one. I attempted to hug others, but that would have required climbing over fences and bushes, and quite honestly, I was too drunk to walk in a straight line... let alone traipse through any type of obstacle course. But the trees were lovely. If I could have afforded it, I would have uprooted one, and bought an extra plane seat, just so I could bring the fabulous f'in palm home with me. For now, I'll have to settle for pictures and fabulous video footage. One day I WILL have palm trees. ;)

So back to the beginning... the girls picked me up to go to the Columbus airport way before the sun woke up. Once we got to the airport it was EASY! I expected scary dudes saluting each other, and cavity searches. Instead, checking in our bags was extremely simple, and drinking giant margaritas for breakfast seemed like a perfectly normal thing to do. Linda was pushing the Airborne and while some of the crew tried it to make miss Cream Puff happy, I couldn't force myself to drink the stuff, so I enjoyed my margarita, and not so long after, we were on the airplane to Las Vegas.

The plane trip was fun! Linda was generous and offered me the window seat. We flew over the Grand Canyon, which I'm thankful we didn't visit more closely ;) and a very odd, friendly, compulsive-lying plane-mate bought all of us fabulous chicks a round of drinks on the plane. It was very nice of him. I learned that I really enjoy Bailey's liqueur. It would be quite simple to sneak it into a cup of lovely coffee, and no one would be the wiser. Hmmmm.....

Landing was not so fun for me. It was bumpy. I freaked out a bit, but I was so happy to be in Vegas, I didn't care if I landed with all of my limbs and digits or not. I would've been just as chipper to hobble at that point. Some of the shoe choices I made resulted in hobbles anyway.

Before leaving for our trip, we did extensive research. Our hotel seemed to be famous for it's ancient rooms, which were said to smell of farm animal farts and stale cigarette smoke. It was said that the layout of the building was like a maze... I was admittedly a bit worried, because I have absolutely no sense of direction and I'm of the legally blind category... so the thought of a maze of hallways that looked alike and elevators that would only deliver us to certain floors was disturbing.

Luckily the hotel was just fine. No, it wasn't the Bellagio, or even the Flamingo, but it was a comfy place to rest our heads. Angie and Beth even had a pet bird visit them in their room, and Linda and I got to enjoy the luxury of our feet being soaked while showering (not together of course), as our bathtub filled up with water instantaneously. I had to rush to get my stems shaved before the tub went into full-on overflow mode. I'm sure some transvestite decided to wash his/her hair and there was a giant clump of he/she hair clogging the ancient drain. I wasn't about to stick my hand down there... hair grows in so many areas.... eww...

Moving on...

Each day in Vegas is a blur. The days blend together. Although I had my cell phone glued to me at all times (talkin' to someone special ya see), I had no concept of time whatsoever. I remember which day it was by which outfit I had on. Seriously.

Khakis/Purple Shirt/Flower Flip-flops = Day 1: I believe we went to a water show and volcano show today, but I don't really remember. I don't really remember much at all from this day. I think I must have been hammered. Angie, Linda, Beth? Was I hammered? Fill me in on what we did, cause I just don't know...

Orange Dress = Day 2: Okay, orange dress day was very blur-ish and naughty quite honestly. I don't really remember what I did or said. I do now know that the reason people say "what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas" is because people who are smashed like I was, don't remember shit. I just remember liking that dress, and twirling on the strip. Apparently I was asking my friends to take pictures of my boobs. And, being the loving friends that they are, they did! And yes, the tits were covered... kinda.Strip Twirl ;)

The Convertible Dress

Drunken Nonsense :P

More Drunken Nonsense

Black Dress = Day 3: Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh black dress day! Actually, we didn't change into our little black dresses until the evening, before we went to see the Chippendales. Earlier that day we went to PF Changs, which was fabulous! We ate outside on the patio and watched the loons go by. Actually, we just talked a lot, and I believe this was the first meal I didn't drink at. I was pretty liquored-out at that point. That would soon change.At PF Changs

I drank a couple of Amaretto Sours, because I knew I couldn't face nearly naked presumably gay men without alcohol. Beth told the bouncer that it was my birthday (it wasn't, but will be soon... 30 in 10 days...... wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!). Let's just say we got front row seats, and yes, I was pulled up on-stage, and tied to a chair, wound up with a surgical mask tucked into my bra, and we'll just leave it at that... those boys are naughty!
The Bartender at Chippendales. Nice guy, but he wouldn't give me free booze. Ass!

After the Chippendales, Linda and Angie went back to their rooms to change. Beth and I promised to wait for them, and then we made a mad drunken dash to the strip. Yes, the 2 of us, alone and drunk.. and I believe we hit on some homeless men. Is that bad? Doesn't it make everything ok if alcohol is involved to the extent it was?

That night, we were invited to a lovely non-American man's hotel room. He had a red eye. He wanted to dance for us. I am sure he was quite disappointed and disturbed when Beth and I were very friendly with him but laughed uncontrollably at the thought. THAT is how people wind up on CSI. No, we did not go back to red eye's room. We did, however, sit there, hundreds of people walking by, deciding what to do next.

Yeah, he likes boys

Sneaking out to the Strip

We went for a limo ride, all four of us. We saw the Vegas sign. I'm leaving it at that. Mainly because thinking about it is similar to the clouds we seemed to be breezing through on the plane... I was in a fog.

Miscellaneous Moments: (Because I have no damn idea which damn outfit I was wearing, what day it was, what time it was or what in the hell was going on. Period)...

1) The Shoes: I wore cute black shoes. They suck. I wore them all afternoon and evening. I got to the hotel room that night and couldn't get in. Damn key card. So I sat by our hotel room door, unable to move. I was talking to someone special again. Then my phone started beeping, telling me it was going to die. I could have slept right there on that ancient hotel carpet, outside of the room. But I didn't. Even in my drunken state, CSI still flashed through my mind. Damn pervs and predators. They ruin everything!

2) Porn: There are men and women standing all along the strip handing out hooker cards. The chicks are naked or near-naked and there is a price on each card. I wonder if the girls have a bar code? Hmmm... Anyway, we were all on a mission to find male hooker cards, until one of the girls decided to ask where they were, and the little man looked at us like we were insane. Apparently they don't make happy-hooker cards in the male version. Asses! How sexist! :P Admittedly I came home with an entire deck-size stack of horny-hooker female cards and gave them to my soon-to-be-ex-husband as his souvenir. He appreciated! :D
At Dick's Last Resort

3) The Girl in Yellow Lace: On a lovely drunken Vegas day, I spotted a tall girl walking down the strip wearing a beautiful yellow lacy dress. She was lovely. She was carrying a little bouquet, and looked to be absolutely blissful. I wanted to be her. Eloping in Vegas! How romantic! Especially when she was obviously so very much in love. I want that. When I marry again one day, I want to be that blissfully happy (and the eloping bit appeals to me greatly too!)...

4) The Sickness: I woke up the last day we were in Vegas with a cough and sore throat. I felt like shit, and was wishing I had taken Cream Puff up on her Airborne offer 3 days earlier. The airplane ride back... not so fun. I sat in between two old chatty women, one with horrid halitosis. I did, at one point, go to the restroom just to see what an airplane restroom looks like, and I admit to wondering how people join the mile-high club in such an impossibly small space. It would be hot I imagine! It takes me to that bathroom scene in Unfaithful... *fans self*

So, the trip was awesome. There is TONS I'm leaving out, but this entry would go on forever and ever and ever.

I hope to go back to Vegas one day. I want to ride the $14-a-ride rollercoaster. I want to see the dueling piano players again. Next time I think I'll skip a few of the free glasses of Martini and Rossi so I remember a bit more...Champagne Breakfast

This trip was the beginning of a new start for me. And it was a fabulous kick-off! I just wish I remembered it ;)

Helk! Helk! Can you hear me Helk?!

2009-10-16T21:53:00.000-07:00

Me and My Brit-Brit

One of my best friends Brittany is getting a puppy. I am happy for her. While I had an overwhelming urge for one of my own a while back, the feeling has passed. I now want a cat. I don't want a cat right at this moment. I'm quite happy to live with my children (animals) for the next few months, and then maybe adopt a little creature of the feline variety. We'll see...

So back to Brittany, or Brit as I like to call her... Brit's puppy-to-be is blind. Poor pup. He's rather cute. He's a bit too young for Brit to bring home, so she has conjugal visits with him now and again (:P). The bad thing is the pup isn't only blind, he's deaf too (and Brittany will have no idea with a conjugal visit entails or means for that matter.:P). I suggested naming the dog Helen Keller. Brittany was not so keen on this name choice due to the fact that the pup is in fact a boy. So I suggested Helk (short for the lovely Helen)... I think it's rather discreet, unless you know the reasoning behind the name, and it really doesn't matter what in the hell ya call the damn dog, cause he's can't hear your damn calls or read your blessed lips anyway. Bless his little heart.

Arm Candy

Later this evening, on our girls' night out, Brit broke the news that she would be getting a different puppy now. Helk will be going to live with a woman who will take him to nursing homes, etc. as a therapy dog. I will not mention the comments I made regarding this dog labor, due to upsetting the general, not so easily-amused public. It was quite funny though (to those of us with sick minds). Let's just say it had something to do with the dog not knowing where in the hell he is at the moment, is going in the future or has been in the past. What a sad puppy life. I realize that people manage to adapt to their surroundings and limitations (I am living proof!), but jeez!

Now don't think I'm evil. These are just my own very distorted, disturbed thoughts. I love pups and dogs. I happen to love blind dogs, deaf dogs, dumb dogs, evil dogs, loving dogs, shmooshy-faced dogs, poofy dogs, rat-looking dogs, mini-me dogs, striped dogs, spotted dogs, plain jane dogs, slut dogs, male-whore dogs, rabbit-chasing dogs, lap-swimming dogs, scrap-eating dogs, kid-friendly dogs, crotch-sniffing dogs, boot-eating dogs... but the one thing I can't stand? Poop-licking dogs. Anyone or anything who will eat their own dung? Disgusting! So if you partake in poo, you are not on my friends list. Delete me from your Facebook, your contacts, your life... cause I don't roll that way ;)The Innocents...

Brit, take good care of your dog with 5 senses. I pray Helk will have a beautiful life... *stifling very rude comments*... I wonder if laser surgery has been tested on dogs? Everything else has...

:P

Cryptic, I know.

Until next time,
Kell ;)

Cheeseburgers, Swine and Fun with Alligators

2009-10-10T17:31:00.001-07:00

Mom and I took the lovies down to Polaris today to Cheeseburger in Paradise and to the mall to play on the germ-ridden playground. While I realize the swine flu (as we're no longer allowed to call it) is in full-force right now, and my skin crawls just thinking of the germs floating throughout the upper-crusty mall, my kids love it.

The mall is QUITE the melting pot of people! I had a fabulous conversation with a Mexican woman who did not speak a lick of English today. My Logan was playfully "tickling" her daughter, and we both found it to be extremely cute. I spoke in my best English. She spoke in her lovely Spanish, and we smiled at one another sweetly, heads cocked and everything. Who says there are language barriers? I think conversations where two people can't understand a damn word the other says are f'ing fabulous!!!!!! I plan to visit the mall more often just to engage other non-English-speaking folk in meaningful conversation. I'm so happy that woman didn't understand when I told her daughter she was an evil twit for putting my Logan in a headlock at one point. Just kidding... kinda... but the evil little hag did headlock my baby, as witnessed by my mother.

After a gallon of hand sanitizer had been soaked into 6 tiny hands, the electric steps, as my dad enjoys calling them, came next. My children are fond of alligators (elevators to most), and today they insisted on trying out the escalators. I obliged them, because anything that holds so much interest (and is free!) makes me one happy chick! Aiden and I rode up hand-in-hand and back down the same way. Abbigail and Mama did the same. And then Logan. Logan insisted I carry him up, so I did. But down?! No damn way! That kid wasn't movin'! So the rest of the crew rode up to meet us, and we went to find some non-moving steps. I think we'll stick to alligators for a while...

The toy store came next. I was rather unimpressed to be quite honest. They didn't even sell real Play Doh! Mom and I enjoyed making fun of the crappy toys, which were the equivalent to 'frosted fruit O's' rather than Fruit Loops. I'm not dissing off-brands... but toys should seriously have some quality standards. Many of these... did not.

On our way home I subjected Mom to The Plain White T's and Maroon 5. She seemed to enjoy my music of the moment. Logan fell asleep, while Abbi and Aiden sat in the back of the van crabbing over who could play with the farmer that came with the jacked-up fake tractor toy Grammy had bought for them.

As some of you know, I'm going through a rough time right now. Lots of changes going on, and I'm going through the process, remaining true to myself, to my babies and those who love me and I love. Days like today are a necessity at this point. If it weren't for fun, family, friends, music and hope for the future, I'd lay down, go to sleep and not surface until I'm 63. I'm thankful for the joys in my life. I'm grateful for the things I have to look forward to, and I'm hopeful that one day, on top of my already crazy-happiness, I will be blessed with even more.

Because quite honestly, we all deserve that.

My Ding-a-Ling ;)

2009-09-26T19:30:00.001-07:00

Proof I'm Insane ;)

I went to a sex toy party tonight. It's the second one I've ever been to. The first was when I was newly married, and very naive. To make this extremely naughty first-time event even more blush-worthy, my mother-in-law was there. Thankfully she was not present this evening.

Some of the lotions, rings, vibrating objects and candles you can actually burn and then pour onto your lover's body freak me the hell out... I'll be honest! I'm all about the fairy dust and feathers, but JEEZ! Who purchases a double-dong from a home-party, where at some point, the giant flexible piece of non-meat is going to have to be delivered to your door?!?! Trust me ladies, that baby ain't gonna fit in a brown paper bag. There is nothing discreet about it! Unless you are rather large, and are able to conceal larger-than-life sex toys, everyone will know you are a master of dongs.

I couldn't help myself, and had to ask the demonstrator (hahahahaha) if people order such monstrous items from her very sexy catalog. She hadn't had much experience with dong orders, which, quite honestly, made me breathe a huge sigh of relief. Marion is known for many things... popcorn, piss tests and toothless wonders... but buffoon dongs aren't one of them. YAY for non-dong-using Marionites!

There is just something about a pretty blonde chick passing around vibrators and lubes with a straight face that strikes me as a bit odd. While I didn't order the dong for two, I did manage to find some shimmeries, which I later found out was a perfect purchase, because according to Facebook (which I rely on for accurate news and my map through life), I need to be a princess for Halloween this year. Fruity fairy dust! I just purchased my Halloween costume at a fun party! Is there something wrong with this picture?!

In other news, I realized tonight how very strange I truly am. My friend Candise & I went to have our hair cut today, and I had her take a picture... of the back of my head. Then I proceeded to post it on Facebook, where I now have 400 "friends". I have often wondered what people think of me, and now I know. That Kelly... that's the chick that takes pictures of the back of her head and goes to dong parties. Yes, it's odd, and yes, it's me... So YAY for vibrating ding-dongs, YAY for ass-backward photos and YAY for wearing fairy dust and nothing else.

Now go play with your ding-a-ling...

Sweet Emotion...

2009-09-20T20:24:00.000-07:00

It occurred to me early how much I listen to music. I've blogged about music before... it's truly a big part of my life.

I grew up listening to all types of music. Dad played the guitar and harmonica very well (and still does), and we would camp, sit around the fire and sing. "Country Roads" is one I remember, and he sang the Eagles too, though he butchered some of the lyrics beyond belief. Back then we didn't realize that, now we do. :)

I remember leaving my bedroom door open so Mom & Dad could hear me singing upstairs in my bedroom. I'd belt out just about any song. I loved it. Occasionally Dad would yell up to be "Go Kellbird" and I'd resume my singing, a little bit embarrassed and a lot louder!

I learned to appreciate music very young... one of my favorite Summer pastimes was taking my pink boombox outside with my Starship and Air Supply cassettes and swinging and singing for hours. Oh memories...

When the twins were born, the staff provided us with a wonderful lullaby CD at St. Ann's Hospital. Since that first day, the babies have had music playing while they sleep. It used to be classical, but as of late, Aiden is not amused with 'songs without words', so we've ?upgraded? to a station that plays a bit of everything.

Aiden's current song: I'm Yours by Jason Mraz
Abbi's current song: Love Story by Taylor Swift (Lord help me! I'm so sick of that damn song!)

As you know from previous posts, I love Gavin DeGraw. His songs just fit my personality, and I listen to him without ever tiring of his voice. There are many artists I can't get enough of. He's on the top of that list. :)

I've been REALLY into my music lately, listening to new songs, and realizing that there is truly a song for every situation, mood and feeling. For instance, right now I am listening to the very sexy song "Sunday Morning" by Maroon 5. Oooh Lala!

While tomorrow has "Manic Monday" written all over it, I refuse to have a "Bad Day" and enjoy some happy tunes to get me through the day! If my lovely assistant asks me to suffer through her country collection, I will happily oblige her, all the while wishing I could shove a nail through my skull. I'm really not a country person... I like all types of music, but I seriously don't need to hear about your sexy tractor, your old pick-up truck and your dead dog. Sure, that's real life, but I'd much rather hear about the possibilities of a beautiful ending with better music and no twang ;)

Some of my favorite lines:

"You bleed just to know you're alive" -Goo Goo Dolls "Iris"

"Let me do what I want to do, all I wanna do is make love to you" -Gavin DeGraw "Let's Get It On" (yeah, it's a remake, but I like his version better, so screw off! ;)

"You'll hear the music fill the air, I'll put a flower in your hair" -Jason Mraz "Lucky"

"I wanna get lost with you. I wanna forget where I came from" -Gavin DeGraw "Get Lost"

"Tell me things you never even tell your closest friends" -Plain White T's "I Love You"

"Steal some covers, share some skin" -Maroon 5 "Sunday Morning"

"Our friends would all make fun of us, and we'll just laugh along because we know that none of them have felt this way" -Plain White T's "Hey There Delilah"

"By the time that we get through, the world will never be the same" -Plain White T's "Hey There Delilah"

"We're just two lost souls swimmin' in a fish bowl, year after year" -Pink Floyd "Wish You Were Here"

"Discovering me discovering you" -John Mayer "Your Body is a Wonderland"

"You change your mind like a girl changes clothes" -Katy Perry "Hot & Cold"

"Stand by me. Nobody knows the way it's gonna be" -Oasis "Stand By Me"

And in true Kelly-fashion:
"My friend's got a girlfriend and he hates that bitch. He tells me every day. He says "Man I really gotta lose my chick in the worst kinda way" -The Offspring "Get a Job"

"Give it up to me. Give it up to me. Do you wanna be my angel?" -Toadies "Possum Kingdom"

More to come... I'm not done... but my brain is for the night...

Til next time,
Kell ;)

Poop on You

2009-09-07T11:44:00.000-07:00

This has been a rather interesting weekend. I took Friday and today off to allow myself a much-needed short-little-teeny-tiny vacation. I realized I have been going full speed ahead since long before we moved into the new house. I haven't had much down time, and I was looking forward to a nice, relaxing, peaceful long weekend. I forgot something important in this cozy little plan...

I have kids.

The crazy train came right along, picked us up for a mini-holiday, and I've been riding the rails & bumps all damn weekend. It's one of those stay-cool-or-you'll-haul-off-and-hit-something-or-worse-yet-someone long weekends, where the kids are literally playing tug-of-war over a stupid little pirate eye patch, sticking out their evil little tootsies just to trip one another on purpose, and screaming at the top of their lungs because they want the pizza man to bring pizza... noooo, homemade pizza just won't do.

Another factor I didn't take into consideration before my spa-like lovely weekend was the fact that we were having a yard sale Friday & Saturday. For future reference, I plan to write myself a hate note scolding myself for having a yard sale two weeks after a big move, and threatening myself that if I ever do plan a yard sale again, I just may have a nervous breakdown, and the insane asylum will be quick to follow.

The pricing was the worst. I had no help, which I won't get into, and the pricing process took a total of 5+ hours, and I'm a damn fast pricer! I'd truly be an asset to the retail world, with my nervous energy and my fast-paced talky ways. Any chance those retailers ever had of me coming to work for them, they are long gone. The yard sale did me in.

We made decent money. We sold quite a bit, and have shit-loads of crapola still sitting in the garage. The rest will be donated. That makes me feel a little better about the psychosis behind having a sale in the yard/driveway. If you think about it, the whole idea is quite odd. I won't get into that now... displaying your crap for the whole neighborhood to see is a blog post in itself.

My friend Candise came to help me with the sale. The actual sitting and selling was quite fun. Our most interesting customer showed up in a huge blonde hair piece, an off the shoulder shirt with her bra straps hanging out proudly, a tiny little skirt and silver sequins shoes, which would have rivaled Dorothy's if they were red. Not only did she saunter around the sale looking quite delirious (she had obviously had work done... bad work), at one point she answered her cell phone and proceeded to say "there ain't no one prissier than me". It was awesome! I wanted to take her picture, get her autograph, interview this large woman with enough self-esteem to fill North America. But I didn't. I just stared at her with fascination. I'm sure she thought I was checking her out. After all, who could resist this hunka hotness?

Anyway, today was house-cleaning day. I slept in (thank you Joel!), and then woke up full of spunk and energy. I banished my lovely children and husband to the basement, as to not be disturbed (except for kids screaming at me from the basement and Rock Band playing at alarmingly high call-the-police volumes). I managed to clean the entire house (minus the basement of course) and get some laundry moved from the dirty mountain to the clean mountain.

The hardwood floors are decidedly very difficult to keep clean. I treated myself by buying a Swiffer Sweeper yesterday. Thank God for Swiffer! I already have the Wet Jet (although I can't find the pads right now), and believe it is one of the best inventions I've been introduced to! Brooming and dust-panning are not my thing. I think sweeping is a big stupid waste of valuable time. But the Sweeper is actually fun :) I zipped around the house today, and managed to sweep the entire upstairs before this little perfect piece of machinery finally died of exhaustion.

Among the other events which made up my weekend... I dropped my cell phone in the toilet. Mind you, I have been wanting a new cell phone desperately, but I would have never went to the extreme to dropping my old, ugly, stupid cell phone into poop water. Baby poop, water and cell phones do not mix, just so you don't make the same mistake. I was phoneless for 12 hours, and thought I could die from loneliness. Joel was out for the night, the kids eventually went to bed, and I was at a loss. Not even my computer could keep me occupied and happy. What if I had to call 911? Oh my God, I forgot to tell my mom something! Jeesh, I can't even text my texting buddy... what ever will I do?

Well yesterday, Joel and I meandered into Verizon, and I upgraded to a beautiful pink, shiny Blackberry Curve. I'm falling in love with it. There is no way I will ever learn all of the ins and outs, but the whole idea of having my email, facebook, messanger and countless other apps at my beckon call.... priceless!

Because the phones were buy-one-get-one-free, Joel wound up with a free Blackberry (though he opted out of the pink). He loves it just as much, although he wouldn't admit in the beginning that he wanted one. When the guy said "free" he perked up a bit. I'm afraid I will have to watch for him to make sure he isn't about to run into a pole while walking, or a dog while driving... he's rather lovey-dovey with his phone as well.

So, the crazy train weekend is quickly coming to a close. The twins start preschool Wednesday. I took the day off work, so I can take them, cry, pick them up, cry some more... and spend the rest of the day wallowing in self-pity. My babies are getting old.

I hope you had a nice weekend. I hope you didn't have a yard sale. I hope you shipped your kids off to Grandma's and I hope you were graced with the presence of a hot-shot hunka-burnin-love.

Until next time... just shoot me.

Kell ;)

Vegas Vixens...

2009-09-02T14:51:00.000-07:00

Four of my friends & I leave for Las Vegas October 24th. That would be 51 days away. I once visited Vegas when I was a wee tot... as I believe I've mentioned before, my family took a wild and wooly drive out west and, while I'm sure it was a fantastic experience, I don't remember much of it. I don't remember Vegas at all. See previous vacation posts to read about my father trying to pick a cactus out of the ground in Arizona. Good read. Good times.

So anyway, as if having a new house isn't enough to be thoroughly excited about, I'm over the edge about Vegas! The nurses I'm going with made a paper chain like you see at Christmas-time... a countdown chain of sorts. We take turns ripping off different colored rings each day, and we all get a big kick out of the chain becoming shorter & shorter. There is a Vegas shrine involved too, but I won't go into that. :)

Thinking of the plane trip is extremely exciting for me! I haven't been on an airplane since I was 4 years old. I don't remember that either. Apparently I flew to Florida with my mom. I wish I could remember, because I'm sure I would have loved the experience!

So, between the plane ride, landing in Vegas (where I hear there are slot machines right at the airport), the lights, the Chippendales and the free beverages, I'm sure we will all feel like we're on top of the world! I love the girls I'm going with! One of them even offered to give me her free drinks! I think this could be the experience of a lifetime.

Joel is a bit jealous I believe. He would like to go to Vegas as well. Unfortunately for him, this is a girls only trip (except for the Chips and the hot Vegas men), but I have promised him that we can go back to Sin City next year for our anniversary. I think I can hold him over til then. Besides, he has a prior engagement each weekend in October that I'm sure he wouldn't want to miss just for **VEGAS**!

Three blissful nights away from screaming kids, Ohio weather, farmland and Ohio's best toothless wonders.

I can hardly wait to see the horny guys handing out flyers for prostitutes, and I do plan to have my picture taken with a homeless hunk and a cooterific call girl. I wonder if they'll charge me?

A Facebook "friend" told me she visited Vegas and she advised me that it's not all it's cracked up to be. Trust me chick, compared to Marion, Ohio, just the THOUGHT of Vegas gives me that high on crack feeling (not that I'd know what that feels like)... the actual experience WILL be all it's cracked up to be! Cause we won't waste a minute.

For my man whore readers:

What happens in Vegas...

A tour through the new house... including ass photos! Enjoy...

2009-09-01T19:07:00.000-07:00

Our New Home

I've been on a blog hiatus. Not because I don't love you all (I do!), but because I've been on a moving, cleaning, decorating and pulling my hair out spree! Moving, in my mind, has become the most challenging, draining, sanity killing chore of all.

Going back to the old house to clean was torture. What got me through it was knowing that our new home, a dream come true for us, could very well be what our old home would become for someone else. So rather than flushing furballs, dust bunnies and globs of red hair down the toilet and sink drain (which I was strong leaning toward by the way), I was a good girl and threw shit away in the proper receptacles. We did our as-little-as-possible-to-get-by cleaning extravaganza at the old house Saturday & Sunday this past weekend... I did manage to get a nice nap in on our old bedroom floor. Joel tells me I slept for about an hour while he CLR'd the shower walls. I don't remember much of that hour. I believe I dreamt of the happiness of getting out of that damn house, where the kids could not play with balls in the yard (due to the river) and the bathroom sink would fill with water in 5 seconds flat (due to my monstrous amounts of puffy hair loss). I believe I woke up drooling on the carpet.... awww memories...

Moving into the new house was a tremendous relief. To me, it is the most beautiful house we could have found. I had major anxiety at first. See, this is the first house that is OURS! We've rented for years... nearly eleven to be exact. This is OUR HOME! In my mind, that is scary and amazingly awesome in equal parts! We have a new house to do whatever we want to do with! If I want a pole dancing room, or a Hello Kitty room, it CAN BE MINE! On the other hand, if the pole breaks, or miss Kitty's head falls off, it's on us to pay for it.

The couple we are buying the house from have a gorgeous new home (which I plan to purchase one day as well:), and are pleasantly relieved, I believe, to have us living here... they know how much we appreciate what we have, and what we've worked for.

I must admit, though... I did have a horrifying moment last week, regarding our new home. Joel's Great Aunt died, bless her heart. Joel went to the funeral, and when his **clears throat** mother suggested we have a family gathering afterward at our house, Joel said.... yes! We had been living in the house for four days. Joel nonchalantly sent me a text telling me we would be entertaining that night. I was pissed. Not only were there boxes sitting all over our packed/unpacked house... I had been at a conference in Troy (2 hour drive) that day, and couldn't fathom the thought of coming home to a houseful (and I mean a HOUSEFUL) of people.

So I went shopping... after I explained to Joel that my nerves couldn't take this impromptu gathering, and I had decided not to come home. "Call me when it's over".... "It will be dark... how will you get home?".... "I don't know. I'll sleep at work".... "Please come home".... "Um, that would be a big NO".... "I just wanted to show off the house and I'd seem like an ass if I said no".... "Grow a pair".... that was our conversation. Joel kept his cool. I did not. After shopping for 45 minutes and spending a total of $11 at Hobby Lobby, I decided to grace the family with my flustered, frazzled presence. I'm sure they were impressed.

When I walked in the door, I didn't quite know what to think. Dinner was ready (spaghetti for 31 people in my new house! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!), Joel had done an excellent job of hiding our mass of unpacked boxes, & our house looked... good! I had several people apologize to me for the spontaneous gathering, but by that point, I was happy... happy to have a houseful of family, happy the kids had other kids to play with and just happy in general. Sure I was tired, but I didn't have to do anything! I got to play outside with the kids (and yes, the kids are permitted to have balls at the new house, as is Joel), and Joel's awesome cousin Sara insisted I stay outside while she and other family picked up the mess. It turned out to be a great evening!

In honor of our new home, I would love to share some photos with you! We are far from being finished decorating, etc, but to us, it's already home. I'm in love with it.

Enjoy the photos:

Our Dining Room

My window seat... oh, how I love thee...

My "Bistro"
Shannon bought me the giant coffee mug on the table as a housewarming gift. I like to put muffins in it, although the kids eat them just as quickly as I fill it up... maybe I should fill it with fruit...

Where Microwave Magic Happens

Our Family Room.
This room will eventually have a beach theme... so if you go on a tropical vacation, either
A) Take me with you
or
B) Pick me up some shells
Please

We have skylights in our family room.
This is a joy to me, because quite honestly, I can't even afford a vehicle with a sunroof.
I have, however, considered cutting off the top of the van... even if my head just pokes out the top, I'd feel hot in my ride...

Our Bedroom.
I love this room. The closet doors don't show, but they say "his" and "hers".
I'll post another night. Joel is currently in bed, and I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate me taking photos with flash at midnight.
The stars hanging from the ceiling in our room are quite possibly my favorite decoration, besides the obvious... Denis Leary & Gavin DeGraw pictures... ;)

The Boys' Room
Now folks, this looks rather unfair compared to miss Abbigail's room, bu you must realize... our sons cannot be trusted right now with objects in the bedroom. We keep it to stuffed creatures and blankets at this time... we'll add in books again after the lovelies stop ripping the covers off. Lord, make them be better in preschool!

Yes, Abbi's room is very pretty... very girly and very Abbi!
She is quite deserving of her possessions.
She doesn't eat them, rip them, kick them, throw them or shove them down registers.
Good kid... for the most part. Just be sure to line up her crayons, and crack her door just right...

This is slowly, but surely becoming my French Whore bathroom.
If you see any slutty stuff while you're out shopping, go ahead & pick it up...
I'll pay you back... with microwave magic!

Welcome to our Basement!
We will be working on this at some point, but for now it serves as a concert stage (Rock Band & Guitar Hero), a toy room, a drawing/coloring table, a bar for Mommy's sippy cups and a dart board, which Joel and I thoroughly enjoy! What else does a family need?

Our basement shitter. This will soon become the "Outhouse Bathroom".

I hear every home has an unfinished and/or "junk room"...
It will be cleaned up... just not right now.
This is our extra bedroom/computer room. :)

The Rear View
(Nice ass, huh?)

We'll be having a housewarming party in September.
Date to follow...
:) -Kell

Happy Tears

2009-08-08T20:33:00.001-07:00

As many of you know, we are moving. The garage is packed with bunches and bunches of yard sale items, which will be traveling with us to our new home (bigger town... bigger yard sale turnout). We also have a crazy amount of trash bags filled with items not even a 1 cent price sticker would make someone feel guilty enough to buy, and we have been adding these into our regular trash pile on Tuesdays when those hulk-armed trash truck guys, bless their hearts, come to visit our curb.

So we have a big section of yard sale items, a bigger section of black plastic & a medium-sized "keep pile" filled with trinkets and necessities and impulse purchases we have learned to love, and can't part with.

This "keep pile" gets me into trouble. I reminisce. I sit and look at old purchases and get weepy. The can is what REALLY gets me in trouble. No, I'm not talking about the commode, though that subject has ventured to the surface quiet frequently in my blog-life. I'm talking about the photo can. You know those popcorn tins you can buy at Christmas for people you a) really don't like or b) have no idea what to buy, and don't feel like spending any real amount of your hard-earned money on? Well, we have one of those tins, popcornless and full of old pictures.

I can't tell you how many times this week I have made excuses to go out to the garage. I go out there and pull up two of our extra-ugly old dining room chairs (yard sale pile, if you're interested). I use one chair to sit on, and one to pile photos on. They depress me.

I seriously used to be a bean pole... a tiny little thing with a nice rack (the rack remains), pretty blonde hair and a wardrobe I was proud of. Because face it, when you are a size small/medium, you can buy just about anything you dream of in the clearance section.

I felt truly depressed all day today. This should be one of the happiest times of my life. We are getting out of the renting cycle by buying our first real home, I'm going to Vegas in a couple of months with good friends, my babies are starting preschool and we survived a week of VBS, my husband is on day shift after many, many moons of thirds and on and on and on....

So why am I feeling so blue? I go through these phases. I suppose people who jump for joy at the mere glimpse of an oven mitt they haven't seen in ages, or an extra box of Christmas decorations they find in July, are gonna find a valley every now & then.

I decided to just let myself bask in my blues today... stay in my jammies, take a few naps, pack only when I wanted to pack and leave the mundane household crap to my husband. After all, every day isn't like this... but once in a while I think it's forgivable.

In all honesty, I would be happy to sit here & pinpoint my problems for the whole world (or at least my 35 loyal readers) to see, but I can't. I know the few problems I do have are nothing compared to the issues other folks are going through.

I'm going to post some of my pictures now... some of the photos that make me sad. It's my way of soaking it in, sucking it up and letting it go. Enjoy...

In Windsor, Canada... see Detroit?
This was my first real trip away from Joel after we got married.
I went with my friend Linda. We went to a strip club called "Danny's".
I'm still looking for the pic of me with my stripper.

This Santa was a perv, and I had bad hair... but I was happy...

What in the hell was I thinking?!?!?!

Teddy & I. I still miss Teddy... a lot.

This was me ready for my Junior Prom in my room at Mom & Dad's house.
My fascination with hot famous men started really young...
I loved this Prom dress.

Mom putting my veil on before the wedding.
CROCODILE TEARS..... Wahhhhhhhhhh!

Chris & I with our Cabbage Patch Kids.
I believe in the end, we probably all owned 25 Cabbage Patch Kids.

At my thinnest... a few years back.
Would ya believe I still thought I was fat?
Duh!

I thought I had a huge fat roll in this picture.
Double Duh!

On our honeymoon

Why didn't anyone tell me how terrible my hair was? :P

This was when I was running, doing the WW thing & in the best shape... oh, and orange from self-tanner :P

Joel with Teddy...
More sobs....... Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Fishing with Dad on vacation In PA.

I'm going to go burn the can now. Goodnight.

Moving Day: Trusted Tips to Get the Job Done

2009-08-06T18:38:00.000-07:00

Below are moving tips for the open-minded mover. Since my husband, children & I will be moving in just a couple of weeks, I have researched and racked my brain as to how to pack & move most efficiently. Here is what I've come up with:

-Be optimistic. Every house has a closet, room, attic, basement or garage to hide those items you are too lazy to unpack. Utilize it!

-Enlist lots of help & then take an advanced pole-dancing/stripper class, throw out your back & you won't have to lift any heavy objects. This excuse should only be used once. Otherwise your family & friends will assume you're a sneaky whiner. You are, but they don't need to know that.

-Use your new stripper/pole-dancing skills to get free boxes, moving help & money for the big day. Don't be shy. It's the economy's fault, and no one should feel guilty for bettering themselves by making other people do their work.

-To help pay for moving expenses, have a 21 & older yard sale. Display photos of your posing with your new stripper pole. Remember, you can charge more if you're still crippled. So work it girl!

-When you are packing items you don't really want, but feel you should keep because they were gifts from your mother-in-law or great aunt Nola, pack them neatly, throw them across the room (accidentally of course), mark the box "stuffed animals" and laugh uncontrollably while hitting every pothole you possibly can driving to your lovely new home (if there are no potholes, just drive off the road a few times). You'll be minus a few ugly heirlooms, and you'll have a fabulous excuse when asked why the cock-shaped syrup dispenser is not being displayed in your new kitchen.

-If you are tired of snail mail, when filling out your change of address form, list the address of someone who can't stand you. They don't want to see you, so you'll never see a bill again. Send them a box of half-chewed candy every now & again with no return address to be found. It's the thought that counts... even if the thought is evil.

-Consider having a departure party & a housewarming party. Hold signs and a can stating you will lose your new home if you don't get donations. You're still crippled, so you won't be bothered by people offering you jobs, & this is an excellent way to decorate your new pad.

-If you are single, ask 10-25 hot guys over to your new house for a 'date' and ask them to bring their tool boxes. When they all show up simultaneously, serve Hors'Devours and explain that this date will be similar to an episode of the Bachelorette. Tell the men to decorate your house, but don't tell them how the game is won. In the end, throw out the best decorator... he's probably gay. The winner can be chosen by checking out asses while the men do their work. Pow! Decorated house!

-Invite your new neighbors over for tea. Spike it. You'll get the juiciest neighborhood gossip, and you'll be known for having the best tea parties.

-Hire a 5-year old to clean your old house (you know you don't wanna go back). Tell them you pay by the age per hour. If you're really poor, and your stripper skills are not paying off, a 2-year old may be more feasible. Tell them they only have 5 hours to complete the job. Ten bucks baby! Now, if you're REALLY, REALLY poor, offer to pay them with a ring pop and a can of Mt. Dew. Maybe even throw in a baby doll head. Tell them they can have the body if they agree to be your new gardener. Continue breaking toys in half until all of your odd jobs are complete.

That concludes this edition of Moving Day. Please check back for more money and time-saving tips. Happy Moving!

Pet Cemetery

2009-08-05T17:13:00.000-07:00

I once killed my brother's sick iguana Damien trying to force-feed him kale with tweezers. He got me back by frying my hermit crab on top of his hot TV. Pay back's a bitch.

We had 2 bats out in our garage a while back. Joel yelled at me to come see them. I went to look, but with the whole blind thing going on, I could just see little black specklets. He did get the camera & zoom though, so I could see a picture of them. They were baby bats. I was amused and freaked out at the same time. Joel went at them with a broom. He managed to impale one, but couldn't find it to dispose of it. That freaked me out more than the living bat. Two weekends ago we cleaned out our garage (a 5 1/2 hour project) due to the big move coming up. I tip-toed a bit, just knowing I would be the one to find the dead bat (the live one has since escaped). No bat. I'm convinced the neighborhood bull frogs found him & carried him to safety. My question is... since we've had bats... if I call them my pet birds, does that make me goth? I have the skin for it... I had the birds for it... I'm pretty sure if I start wearing black, suck on a blue blow pop for a while and don't wash my newly black/purplesque hair for 3 weeks I'll be goth. Please advise if you are up to date on current 'dark' trends. I'd really like to sell myself as a goth chick.

Evil Cat

A few years ago, my parents had a cat, Callie. Callie was a calico cat. Imagine that! Callie was a cool cat... fat (the best cats are fat) and PSYCHOTIC! She purred persistently, and licked! She licked a lot! She liked to rub her head on our necks and faces (this is fabulous if you have allergies like I do). Callie would be purraciously rubbing herself on someone, and then Yeoooooooowwwwwwwwwshamalamabingboom... sink her claws right into ya. She liked to nibble too. Her nibbles were psycho nibbles, not love-me-tender nibbles. But mostly she loved to scratch. Damn cat. I believe she was shipped off to the farm. She had a pissing problem too... poor thing. I'm sure a coyote came along and ate her.

Innocent my ass

That brings me to Mittens. Mittens was a tabby cat. I was quite young when we had Mittens, but I believe I have a grasp on the Mittens story, or at least my own perception of it. You see, my parents, my brother and sister and I (along with our many living pets and the pet cemetery in our back yard) lived in the boondocks as some may say. If you are un-Ohioan or high-class, you may not understand that term... we lived in the wilderness... the country... a house between four corn fields. Basically, we could easily be described as The Children of the Corn living in Pet Semetery. Both movies... freaky as hell by the way. So, not to get off topic, at night there were coyotes around our house. Mittens took a 4-legged stroll one night and came home with exactly 3 mittens, 3 paws, 3 pads and a bloody stump. Mittens hobbled like a champ. If there were special Olympics for cats, she would've been a shoe-in, or a mitten-in more appropriately. Years later Mom and Dad told us that Ms. Mittens died behind the chicken coop (yes we had a chicken coop... with no chickens :( ... I believe another coyote toted Mittens off and ate her other 3 legs for dinner and she was unable to swim home, due to the drought. But that's just my version.

Matting... a common Persian problem... :P

One of my dreams, allergies and all, was to have a Persian cat... a cat with a face so smooshed and mangled-looking that people would ask if it hit a tree going 80+ miles per hour. The smooshier the better. After Joel and I got married, I saved money, in lieu of paying our electric bill, to save up for my dream kitty. We wound up with 3 of my dream kitties... Visa, the smooshiest of them all. Visa was a red-point Himalayan. If you don't know what that means, don't worry, I won't bore you with the details (just know that I know more than you do :P Anyway, Visa was beautiful, and smooshed to high-heaven! Then there was Bonnie, a grey Persian with a horrible attitude problem. She was gorgeous, so I didn't much care that she was a royal bitch. Angelica was the last. She was a cute little calico Persian kitten with a semi-smashed face (looked like her face had ran into something soft, like a couch or a bean bag chair at high speed). The one point I hadn't considered when we bought long-haired, high-maintenance cats... hairballs! Oh my, did we have hairballs! Excessive hairballs. Hairballs that stretched a good ruler-length across a room. The cats all had different color-points, so we could monitor who was puking the most. Sure, we could get the cats shaved, cut short or waxed, but that defeated the whole purpose of having a Persian, smoosh-faced mutant cat. I suppose I didn't brush them enough... I'm glad I've grown and learned... my kids wouldn't be nearly as cute as they are if I neglected their hair for 3 months at a time. We just shave their heads instead... much easier to maintain.

As to not bore my readers, I will tell you about my past pets, including my cat Jinx, in moderation. Mutt, Scruffy, KeeKee, Zach, Taffy, Snickers, Mama Cat, etc... rest in peace... and in pieces.

Will add pictures of my actual pets at a later date. :P

Potty Mouth

2009-08-03T19:02:00.001-07:00

Today was a frantic day for my family. Okay, I'm lying through my teeth right now. It was a frantic and traumatic day for me... and miss Abbi.

We started our day at 5am... sorta. I hit snooze, after waking up and realizing the baby was snuggled up against me as close as he could possibly be. He had teetered in at some point during the night, and I hadn't even noticed. What a love. I couldn't move. I just laid there. Now, whether I actually wanted to snuggle with the baby at 5am, or just use that as an excuse to sleep 5 more minutes, I can't tell. I know, but I won't tell you... :P

That brings me to the wake-up. I hopped out of bed.. literally, because at some point a giant semi (toy) also teetered into our bedroom and plopped it's big square very-hard-plastic ass onto the floor right where I step to get out of bed in the mornings.

Thankfully I had gotten my shower the night before, after my husband graciously made my roots the color they were meant to be... red... not the blonde God graced me with. I'm still a bit peeved at him for making me a natural blonde. It SO doesn't go with my skin tone. We'll have a talk once I get up there to meet him... Lord willing.

Anyway, I still felt rather clean from the shower I had taken last night, so I threw on my scrubs, added a few curls to the fro and painted my face. Not bad for 5:30am, I suppose.

I then packed myself some healthy goodies for work, filled 3 sippies, threw some diapers in the make-shift diaper bag (I finally threw away the lovely pale pink designer-knockoff bag Joel preferred :P) and tip-toed back to wake the lovies up.

Aiden was first. He popped out of bed like he had just realized his sheets were either frozen or on fire. He immediately went out to the living room. I turned on the light, and he gave me an evil little stare. "Mommy, this is WAY too early." "Join the club Aiden... this is how Mommy & Daddy feel every weekend day." Note to self: Tomorrow, wake Aiden up by screaming in his ear.

Abbi was next. She was a little slower than Aiden, but she knew what she had to look forward to (and fear) for the day, so she hobbled out to the living room, too. She had a mini-tantrum over her dress (too many buttons... wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh), but she recovered quite nicely. So I went to wake up the baby.

I shook him a little... not in a baby-shaking syndrome way... in a loving, get-the-hell-up kinda way. He turned over onto his belly, snoring happily. I jiggled his cute little baby leg. He sat up pissed. He started whining and I had to giggle. This was payback.

The getting-out-the-door process went rather smoothly, and we were on the road by 6:15am... off to Papa's house. The drop-off was drama free. The kids love Papa. They even got to see Mama for a quick minute before she left for work.

I got to work and fretted all morning... stomach ache, nausea... I thought I could seriously vomit. But I didn't. At 8:35am on the nose, I left work and met the kids & Papa at the church. First day of VBS. First day I've ever dropped my babies off ANYWHERE and left them. Sure, the grandparents watch them and we have a couple of very trust-worthy friends who have babysit, but this was entirely different.

As soon as we got to the church Abbi was in full-blown OCD mode. I wanted to cry. We registered. She asked me where the bathroom is. We got name tags. She asked me where the bathroom is. We met the teacher's helper. She asked me where the bathroom is. We showed her to her mat. She asked me where the bathroom is.

You see, Abbi did not have to pee. She has a major issue with potties. She must know where they are, how the door closes, who will take her, if she is strong enough to open the door & if it is just 'kinda loud' or 'really loud' when the potty flushes. Preschool starts in a few weeks, and this has been her main concern. The potty.

The teacher (who will also be her preschool teacher) helped to calm Abbi down. This whole time Aiden was being a champ. He was excited.

The teacher's helper showed us to the restroom. Abbi was satisfied after the teacher's helper promised her that if she had to pee, she would show her to the bathroom. Mission #1 accomplished.

Mission #2? Will Abbi be picked up. Mind you, we have never left our kids. We would never leave our kids and the fear Abbi has about us leaving her is extremely real and a bit odd to me. I assured her over and over and over and over again that Papa would be there to pick she & Aiden up at noon. I imagine she asked her teacher the same question 50,000,000 times throughout the day.

I told the teacher on the way out I was going to go cry. Abbi stared at me but didn't start throwing a fit or sobbing. I would cry enough for the both of us...

So I got back to work and had to auto-pilot myself through the morning. My stomach was REALLY aching at this point. I was shaky. I was a MESS waiting for noon to come. I couldn't wait. I couldn't wait to call Papa and find out if the kids had done okay. I had lots of faith in Mr. Aiden. I prayed I wouldn't get a phone call about Abbi. I didn't.

Noon came and went. I waited til 12:30 to call, so I could talk to the kids too. Joel called me at one point and I panicked. I just knew something was wrong. Nothing was.

The kids were SOOOOO excited when I talked to them! They had a fabulous time! I'm pretty sure they didn't even miss me, which makes me want to shout from the rooftops and cry profusely all at once. Day one done, 4 more to go.

VBS was the topic of the night... all we heard about. Logan is a bit too young to go, so he stayed with his Papa all day. He probably loved the attention. Trying to fight for attention when you don't say much, and have twin crazy children as your siblings, must suck.

Tonight we drove into town. One of the kids' favorite things to do is to go through the car wash. We save this for special occasions (I almost said rainy days, but that wouldn't be appropriate) and cabin-fever days. The van gets washed about once every couple of months. (Seriously, it was eight freakin' dollars and it didn't even BLOW DRY the damn van! RIP I tell ya!)

We're driving through (it was nearly dark and it WAS dark inside the car wash) and the baby just started WAILING. Big old sick-cow wails... seriously, he sounded like a wounded animal. From his perspective, I could see why he was so outrageously scared. Tiny Logan (alright he's not all that tiny, but compared to me he's an ant) versus the big car wash machines. I felt for him.

On our way home I couldn't help but think about the scary things in life. If we fear things as adults, can you imagine how small children feel? The world is HUGE to us, which makes it GIGANOURMAMUNDUS to them. We stopped for a train, and I realized how scary a train could be. I just prayed that if it derailed, it would derail off the other side of the track. Trains = Scary.

We got home and Abbi pointed at a giant bug on the wall. She called me over, and it was a GIGANOURMAMUNDUS mosquito. GIGANOURMAMUNDUS mosquito = Terrifying.

See what I'm getting at? Life is full of fear. We spend hours a day avoiding them, making people feel better about them, facing them & beating them. I just pray the train doesn't derail, the mosquito doesn't suck our blood and the toilet doesn't suck our asses down with it.

Life is damn scary. We'll never get out of it alive.

It's not worth worrying about. That's just how it is.

The end = Petrifying.

Pink Casket & Denis Leary Sitting on my Desk

2009-07-30T18:49:00.000-07:00

Happiness comes in small doses folks. It's a cigarette, or a chocolate chip cookie or a five second orgasm. You cum, you smoke the butt, you eat the cookie, you go to sleep, wake up and go back to fucking work the next morning, THAT'S IT! End of fucking list! -Denis Leary

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0248752/quotes

I tend to agree with Denis (about everything really). Happiness truly does come in small doses. I normally wouldn't drop an F-bomb in my blog, but hey! It's a quote... I didn't say it... Denis did :D

I am so utterly excited about several things right now!

1) We move into our new house September 1st. Bigger house, bigger yard, a sun room with skylights (I believe this will become my new happy place), closer to work (sorry Joel... further for you), kid-friendly neighborhood, buying rather than renting & a full basement to banish the kids to (do NOT call CPS... this is a JOKE :)

2) My babies start preschool this year. This makes me jerk with tears and giggle with happiness! On one hand, I am losing my lovies. They won't need me anymore. They are already shunning hand-holding and insist on scooping their own food onto their big-people plates. It makes me teary thinking about it. On the other hand, we are THAT much closer to 18 and freedom. NO I'm not trying to get rid of my kids... but it's good to have things to look forward to. As you roll your eyes, you know you're secretly agreeing with me.

3) Vegas! I'm going to Las Vegas in October with girl friends from work. OMG! The excited feeling I get when I think about Vegas is over-the-top, out-of-control, higher-than-any-illegal-drug CRAZY happy! We are on a strict budget due to the fact that I am not happy with ONLY a new home, but I also need a VACATION. Viva Las Vegas Baby!

4) The Beach! I don't know when. I don't know how. I don't know why, but I LOVE THE BEACH! The beach is literally my very favorite place in the world. I have many, many places I want to visit (and yes, I will see all of them cause my Bucket List says so), but the beach will, to me, will always be the most beautiful place in the world. And I'm not talking about a beach on the Scioto River... I'm talking about the OCEAN! The ocean people! I'm tellin' ya.... I love it! If I could fondle it and grope it I would! It's just that damn irresistible.

5) Vacation Bible School. Yep, I realize I'm a curser. I love it. That's one of those small things that makes me happy. Foul language. I have an English friend who curses like a sailor (do you know how much I wanted to add an F-bomb there?), and it cracks me the hell up! The thing is, my kids are going to be hanging out with other cool kids (and some bullying twit-peeps, I'm sure) next week at VBS... this is the first event where we will be dropping them off & leaving them. They are so excited, and Mom is too... I'll cry that entire week. Bang boom badalada... just give me narcotics, cause I'll be a weeping willow tree the whole freakin' week. Double my meds. That's what I'll do.

6) The beach in my new house! I will be decorating our new sun room in beach decor. Know what that means? I can go to the beach every damn day! Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah! I'm thinking of sand instead of carpet... and a big tank people can swim in. Hmmmmmm.... brb... calling the decorator now.
Damn, he told me I was crazy... back to square one.

So moving on, if you were to see me on an every day basis, you would realize that the smallest things in the world amuse me! Here are some of those things:

1) The copy machine at work, get this, STAPLES and SORTS! It's freakin' awesome!

2) The coffee pot, get this, can be PRE-SET! So when I wake up in the morning, my coffee can be sitting there ready to burn my tongue! It's fabulous!

3) We aren't even close to being to the end of the 22 episodes of Rescue Me this season! Just this show alone could make me run after rainbows & find the end & drop kick a martial artist with the adrenaline alone.

4) My new house has a 4-car garage! I don't even own that many cars. In all honesty I don't even own one of my vehicles. The van still has many moons of payments on it, and the car is Dad's. I'm 30. It's good to have the bills paid :P

5) Budgeting to go to Vegas, go to the annual craft show (hey, I buy Christmas gifts there!) and buy a new house... even if it means we eat rice, bread, soup beans and corn from the field for the next few months :P

6) My computer at work has an absolutely amazing picture of Denis Leary on it, and my screen saver is Rescue Me. I say goodnight to Denis before I leave work. He loves me.

7) Good hair days. If my head is full of curly-cues and they are all over the damn place, I'm fanatically happy! If it's straight, dull and blah, the happy level is kicked down a notch. I'll stick with the kinks ;)

8) Catalogs! Oh my God, give me a catalog and I'm on cloud 9! Put me to bed, give me a stack of catalogs, a 6-pack of Down Home Punch, a telephone and a credit card with a fabulous limit, and I'm in heaven! I'm not high-maintenance at all. I just happen to like stuff, money and booze.

9) When I am caught up on paperwork, I literally think my co-workers should throw me a party, buy me a male stripper and have him feed me strawberries of the chocolate-covered variety. I like to be praised. And I like to be praised well. :P

10) Turning 30. Yes, I turn 30 in December. December 1st actually. I expect gifts... and a surprise party. Please? I act like I dread 30, but I really just want all the attention attached to it. Didn't you know? I like to be the center of attention... I want people to remember me when I'm gone. Oh, and I want a pink casket, so anyone who is still alive when I kick it, help me out with that. i also want Gavin DeGraw to sing at my funeral. See, even my funeral excites me!!!!!!

I have to tell you... it's good to be delusional. It's good to be amused by the teeny tiny perks in life. As I've said before, my thought process may not be healthy, but I'm happy, and that's all that really matters. Oh, that & my kids... I like them to be happy occasionally too.

Pink Casket! Don't forget...

Enter with Caution... Tree Huggers Welcome

2009-07-28T15:41:00.000-07:00

My life in cars...

Mom's 90's GrandAm... yep, I hit a pole with it.

My punishment for running into the pole. It backfired... I loved my little car!

Our current car... a Lumina from 1492.

But OUR tires are not as pretty as the one's above. See?

Our current van... a Chevy Venture... we still owe $100,000,000 on it! YAY!

My future car... a 1970 Volkswagon Convertible Beetle... in Pink!

My other future car... a red BMW... I may have to cut off my legs, but it will be worth it...

I'm a tree hugger.

I have hit many stationary objects in my driving life. In driving school, I was more interested in impressing my absolutely edible driving instructor than I was learning to actually... drive.

Somehow I made it through the class & then went on to take my driving test... 3 times. I did fabulously on the written exam, but guess what? The written exam doesn't mean a damn thing if you can't actually drive. I hit cones the first two times I attempted the driving course. The 3rd time I hit a cone, but it didn't actually fall over. It just weebled and wobbled without falling down. So the teacher, get this, passed me! Woot Woot!

Every time I failed that test was like a slap in the face. Mom took me to Delaware (the town in Ohio, not the state, although I thought about it) because we heard a nasty rumor that there was an evil instructor in Marion, our town. We drove home the first two times, the non-passing times, and I'd cry and cry... I was NEVER gonna be able to drive. Damn cones! They were way too damn close together! SUCKERS!

You have to know me to understand why me driving is such a fear to so many of my family members & friends... and sometimes even myself. I'm blind... honestly, I'm blind... did you know you can be blind and still be able to see? Basically, if you see really sucky and squint more than you don't to see perfectly normal-sized objects, you are blind... legally. If, like me, you can't see a damn thing at night, and even when you put your glasses on or contacts in, you're still squinting to see the golden arches 1/800th of a mile from McDonald's, you are positively blind.

Every time I go into the BMV to renew my license I get squirmy, sweaty, silly and stupid. Seriously! I take my number from the maddening little number-machine and sit there, in the presence of Marion folk talking about the current drugs they are taking and who their dealers are. It's always a lovely errand to run. When they do finally call my number, normally 6-8 hours later (okay, I'm exaggerating a bit, but it feels like it!), I walk a fake saunter up to the desk, my head held high, full of fake self-confidence & enthusiasm, smile sweetly and put my head up against that little machine... and GUESS! That's right, I can't see any of it, so I guess. I pray my 6th sense will kick in, and I'll recite the correct letters... or numbers... hell, I don't even know if they are numerical or alphabetical... I've never seen them. It's always the same story. The chick or dude looks at me blankly, and as if they don't know what in the hell to do with me, they just stamp me as 'daylight restricted' once again. Almost 14 years of daylight restrictions. Believe it or not, I'm quite okay with that. I realize how lucky I am to be able to drive at all. Although I am blind, I can see... sympathy vote? YEAH BABY! Driver's License? YEAH BABY! I shouldn't but I do! Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah!

So the day I finally got my drivers license, I got home and my mom reluctantly let me drive over to La Rue, a little town about 15 minutes from our house. My little sister went with me. Looking back, I realize my mom must have prayed on her knees the entire time we were gone. I can't even imagine my kids driving. The mere thought of it makes me grip my chair in panic, and I hear that feeling won't ease up as they get older. They're never driving. I just decided that. :) Aw, I feel better.

So anyway, Tara and I were on our way to La Rue, windows rolled down, listening to "California Knows How to Party" by 2PAC. I thought I was extremely cool listening to that song over and over again in Mom's red GrandAm. That car was hot at the time... not hot as in stolen... hot as in HOT! Even though I couldn't see the boys I drove by, I liked to assume they were admiring my car, my music & my skills. I'll never know.

We got to La Rue, I pulled into the parking spot, and BAMALAMA BOOM BOOM, I hit a pole. Yep, head-on, ran right into a pole... first day I had my license. It cracked Mom's license plate cover. Accident number ONE. Luckily, probably because I'm blind, I didn't get grounded, chored to death or stood in a corner. I think I got the sympathy vote on that one. :P

Not long after the GrandAm incident, I came home from school to find a little grey Plymouth Horizon in the driveway. I believe it was a 1987 model... not new, but new to me and I LOVED IT! I had to push on the gas just the right way to get the car to start, and there were tricks to driving it, but to me, that was more special than driving a normal car. No one could just jump in my car & drive it! I was the only master! The master of the Horizon! Yeeeeehawwwwwww!

There have been several driving incidents over the years involving me and various cars. Over the past few years, I have hit more mailboxes than I care to admit. Oh, hell, I don't mind admitting it... I have hit an average of 10-15 mailboxes, some in succession. It's not that I don't drive with caution... I truly do... I use more caution than the average driver due to my lack of vision. I do, however, focus on not going left to center, which in turn makes me hit mailboxes. You see, it's really not my fault. If the lanes were wider, I'd be fine. The town of Prospect is a dangerous place... small lanes. They aren't even really lanes... they're tiny little tightropes, just begging for you to mess up and hit something.

That brings me to my next story, or confession if you prefer...

A few years ago, pre-babies and in my skinny-mini days, I led Weight Watchers meetings. That's right... I was a leader! Scary thought, eh? Anyway, one Monday night after our weekly meeting, I decided to pull left out of the Southland Mall (which is a beautiful mall by the way, if you ever decide to take a field trip to Marion :P). It was dark. There was snow... and no lines whatsoever on the road. Everything was snow-covered. I turned anyway, and got into what I thought was the turn lane. I looked behind my right shoulder to see if there were any cars coming, and while I was looking back to my right, I was veering to my left. I ran head-on into a mini van. I immediately felt terrible. The driver got out of the van... a chick around 30. She had a few kids in the van, and I soon found out she had no insurance and no driver's license. She was busted, and it was all my fault. It was very cold that night, and when the deputy got to the scene, he asked me to sit in his car. When he called in my driver's license, the dispatcher read off my information, and then added "DAYLIGHT RESTRICTED ONLY" in a stern tone. BUSTED! The cop didn't even know what to do with me. He said he didn't know what to charge me with, if anything. He told me he'd be at my house the next evening at 7pm. UGH! 24 hours to dwell on what was going to happen to me. I just knew I was gonna go to jail, get beat up cause the Marion hookers and druggies would think I was stuck-up and prissy, then be put on house arrest for the rest of my days on Earth... I scared myself half to death... then the cop got there.

Mr. Nice Cop didn't charge me, although after further investigation, he explained to me that my driving after dark is just like someone driving without a drivers license at all. The crime I committed was one step below a felony... the highest misdemeanor possible. I was a criminal! Fortunately I wasn't convicted. And I rarely drive after dark now. :P Just sometimes...

So, the freshest incident in my mind occurred this past Sunday. My husband was doing a little job at my boss's new house. Hubby & boss's hubby went to get a part at Sears, and I decided to take the kids to get pizza. Backing out of the long driveway was a challenge for me, as long driveways always are. I veered off the path twice and had to pull forward and re-group. After my second re-group, I started to back up. My backup assist started beeping really fast, and then WHAM BAM BADALADA BOOM BAH, I ran smack-dab into a tree. I'm a tree hugger. The kids thought this was incredibly funny, and begged me to do it again. . I was too anxious to get out of there! I was afraid my boss could hear the crash from the house. I didn't even care about the van... after all, it has a missing side mirror due to a prior mailbox jumping out at me and several scratches from my friends & I running into other cars, etc. Yeah, that's right, I tend to hang out with other crashers... and they're not even blind! :P

I did feel that I should call hubby after tree-hugging, so I did. The worst part of this whole situation? The guys had been talking about the possibility of me hitting that tree even before I hit the tree. Nice of them to tell me. :P Joel assured my boss's hubby that I had backup assist so I should be fine. See, normally backup assist starts beeping slowly, and the closer you get to the car, tree, person, curb, monkey, barn-yard animal etc, the faster it beeps. It failed me Sunday. SUCKER!

I've been pulled over various times. I've only had one speeding ticket, which a haggy female trooper on St. Rt. 23 gave me one time on my way to work in Columbus. She was out to get me. I wasn't going THAT fast... 15 over is nothin'! Joel has told me of crazies going over 100mph in a 55 zone. My speed seems quite normal compared to that. Jeez! ;)

One time I got pulled over coming home from Marysville. I was following the flow of traffic on Rt. 4, going nearly 70mph in a 55mph zone. A deputy passed our long line of cars coming from the opposite direction. I slowed down a bit, saw him pass and then inadvertently sped up again. He flipped on me, pulled me over and let the long line of speed offenders in front of me speed along their merry way. I pulled off onto a side road, as to save myself from the pure embarrassment of it all. As soon as I parked, pretty lights sparkling behind me, who do I see? My dad. Yep, Dad pulled right up to the stop sign I was sitting beside. Oh the horror! I cried and cried! The cop asked me what was wrong, as I had been acting perfectly normal, and then suddenly lashed out in convulsions and full-on crazy-woman-ness. He let me go.

This year on Easter I, once again, was going 70mph in a 55 zone. Joel was home sick with bronchitis, and I had never been pulled over since he became a cop, so I wasn't sure if the cop-wife-magic would really work for me or not. Aiden sat in the back yelling that he didn't like the policeman. I was horrified. The cop asked me for my license, title & proof of insurance. I had my license, but none of the paperwork he asked for was to be found. I spit out "man, my husband is a cop... you'd think we'd be better organized"... he let me go. :P

So, although I've had many bouts with cops, polls, cars & bark, and the vehicles I've driven have the torture marks to prove it, I'm still alive, believe it or not.

I'm thinking of getting a driver... any volunteers?

Tactical... When to Shoot, When to Smile & When to Shut Up... a user's guide to being less-evil

2009-07-19T17:02:00.000-07:00

Thank You.

That is my baby's favorite word right now. Give him a piece of paper to color on. Thank You. Change his poopy butt. Thank You. Give him a kiss before bed. Thank You Mom. He'll even yell to me, I'll look over and he'll just say Thank You. It's amazingly adorable, and it makes me feel really, really good.

It doesn't make me happy just because it is so freakin' cute! It amuses me knowing that we, as his parents, have taught him that saying Thank You is not only the right thing to do... it often receives a reaction.

Manners. My 4 1/2 year old twins are lacking compared to Logan. Logan is just a thanker. I truly hope he knows what Thank You means, and he doesn't just love me ogling over him when he says it. Just now... "Mom... marker"... I give him the marker... "Thank You".... and although he will most-likely miss the paper and draw on our graffiti-inspired table, or possibly even the living room carpet (also creatively decorated), he can get away with a lot more... all because of manners.

That brings me to our Walmart greeters. I'm not going to stereotype by saying they are all evil, but let's face the facts, some of them... many of them... are. My husband has befriended a Meijer greeter. Meijer must require smiles during interviews, and they must make sure that the people applying are physically able to pull a single cart out of the herd of carts they are in charge of.

Greeters have several jobs... I realize this... they must un-herd carts (optional), smile (very optional with the likelihood of a smirk or a twitch being 28%), pretend like they care (only if they have time during their shift) and put little stickers of returned merchandise. Sticker-time is the perfect time to feel them out... not feel them up... unless they are hot... and see if they are even capable of engaging in conversation.

One of the pet peeves (near the top) of my increasingly long list of annoyances is people who are paid to greet. I can't tell you how many times I've greeter a Walmart greeter and they haven't greeted back. It pisses me off.

Side Note: Just now Logan asked for water. I gave it to him. Thank You.

So many people need employment right now. I realize Walmart greeters probably make minimum wage, if not only free fountain drinks and pretzel rods. This is no excuse. When you are hired in to greet, you should greet. And management should enforce a niceness policy. The problem is... often management is even pissier than the pissy greeters. Jerk faces!

I'm not only picking on Walmart employees. I also don't appreciate it when we walk into a nice restaurant and the bulimic bleach-blonde, tanned-to-the-hilt 'greeter' gives us the once over, and without speaking, leads us to a table, only to say in a whiny, bitchy voice, "your server will be right with you" ... my response? "I hope he/she is nicer than you... it's a good thing you don't get the tips, cause you'd be one broke bitc.... oh, never mind"...

I grew up on niceness. Mom was always very polite... too polite at times. She admits that now. She finally got sick of people walking all over her. Mom is very assertive today. She is a manager, as am I, and we are both likeably assertive. I've also learned not to let people walk on me, and I love the fact that it's okay to be firm and still be fun! Firmly fun. Hehe!

My whole point is... there is no point in being pissy with the world. Bad days happen. People suck on certain days and then they get better. Bad things happen... mostly to good people. A day of evilness now & then is allowed... but every freakin' day? Seriously! How do you make that okay in your mind? How do you wake up and say "I'm hateful. I will be evil and pissy with as many people as possible today"... that is what we call the reverse of affirmations... assirmations. Say these things in your mirror every morning, and they will make people think you are a complete ass. Feel free to print the following if you need added asspiration... inspiration for mean people:

1) I suck. My life sucks. My job sucks. If I am mean to people, maybe I can make them suck, too!

2) YAY ME! I woke up bitchy for the 120th day in a row! I think I'll shave my legs and cut myself on purpose so I can bitch about it all day.

3) Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, I'm gonna go eat worms.

4) If life were a porno, I'd be the 'go get me a bagel' boy, sent to run errands during every good scene.

5) Bad hair day, my boobs are sagging, I have missing teeth, the teeth I do have are green with fungus. I should go to my greeter job with a scowl on my face and my pistol carefully concealed... and pray I get to use it.

These are only a few of my favorite assirmations. Please email me for more information on learning to be an ass.

In all seriousness, I pride myself on being nice. Yes, there are days when I don't want to smile. I have even been known to yell at people for making me laugh or smile, after promising myself I wouldn't. Some days just suck. All days don't.

People don't deserve what you mean people put them through. The ultimate evil? Talking about someone behind their back and then being polite to their face. Ooooh, you have your own set of assirmations.... you are the ultimate evil.

The good news is, if you are an ass, an evil greeter or just a loather of everyone, including yourself, there is hope. Follow these simple steps and you cannot go wrong:

1) I am a hateful person. I am paid to greet people. If I don't be kind, I'll get fired and stomped upon. (Scare tactic... use regularly for consistent friendliness)

2) I suck. People know that. So if I even smile a little bit, people will wonder what in the hell is wrong with me and talk to me. (The glass is half full tactic. In all honesty, people may be scared half to death if you smile, and run far, far away)

3) People love me. They really, really love me. (The lie tactic... people really don't love you, but it's healthy for you to be delusional)

4) Although I have bad hair, sagging boobs, "summer" teeth and green fungus teeth, there is someone out there for everyone. (The wishful thinking tactic... you are wrong, but bonus! You went from self-loathing to self-loving. Enjoy that, cause that's the only lovin' you're gonna get!)

5) I might never be liked, but at least I'll try. (The Feel-Sorry-For-Yourself Tactic... people still won't like you, but at least you gave it a shot little buddy)

I hope these tricks, tactics, truths and assirmations have helped you in some way. I hope that if you are paid to be nice to people, you will try that. It's a shame that the nice folks have to sit at home and job hunt like an Amish man who hasn't eaten in a week.

Out with the hateful 'greeters' and in with the new.

It was a pleasure serving you today... visit us again soon. (The I don't really mean it but they pay me to say it so I will tactic)

Piss Sticks & Baby Blues

2009-07-13T17:33:00.001-07:00

Abbigail Diane

Aiden Richard

Logan Michael

When I started to blog, I had no idea how I would ever choose a topic and stick to it. Thankfully I've realized that flouncing from topic to topic is just peachy. That way, there is a little something for everyone.

For instance, if you didn't have a big huge puddle of love in your heart for yesterday's poop post, I've decided to get off the poop track... get it? Poop track... hehehehe....

Moving on... to THINGS that poop... my children :)

Back before babies, I didn't know what kind of Mother I would be. In the back of my mind, I knew I wanted kidlets. Joel & I waited a few years to try. Don't get me wrong, we were practicing to try.. we were just taking precautions.

Once we finally did decide we were ready for babies, I couldn't get pregnant. We tried, and tried and tried... and after a while, taking my temperature, holding my ass up in the air and hoping that the little squirmies would get to the proper place got old. Sex was monotonous. If my temperature spiked, I would get so excited! I even charted online, and soon became very aware of what was going on with my crazy non-baby-making body...

The truth is, after a while I started to feel like my body was broken. I was in pretty good shape, I ate right, exercised and played by the rules. Getting pregnant can easily become an obsession when the stars just aren't aligning.

I no longer cared if I'd be a good parent... I just wanted a baby. We bought so many pregnancy tests, we could've easily paid for a cheap college tuition. And time after time, I either got no line where there should be a line, a negative sign where there should be a positive, or the incredibly evil "not pregnant" on the digital piss stick. My emotions were like a roller coaster. This went on for months & months...

One day I woke up and feeling a little queasy, which I had finally realized was me WANTING to feel pregnant and not a real sign of a growth, I stopped at Kroger on my way to work. I bought a cheap pregnancy test. I was too poor at this point to buy an expensive one, or even a two-pack of value piss sticks, due to my obsession with my own pee.

Rather than waiting until I got to work (I worked in Columbus at the time), I just went right to the Kroger bathroom. I had held myself off from peeing all morning, so I REALLY had to go! I had always heard that first morning urine was the best! And I wanted the BEST pee possible, especially with my icky queasies.

The test was positive.

There were 2 lines. This was a miracle. I got really excited, and started jumping up and down... in the bathroom, and out of the bathroom... right up to the brand new Starbucks, which had just been added to our Kroger. The barista must have thought I was a lunatic. I know I had craziness written all over my face.

At that point, I held the stick up in her face, and said, "does this mean I'm pregnant? Is this real?... She started giggling, looked incredibly amused, and told me she had seen a few of those sticks in her lifetime, and yes indeed, I was pregnant.

Joel had just started the police academy the day before. We didn't have cell phones at the time (how in the world did we function without them?) so I drove right over to see hm at work. He worked at Ashely Furniture at this time, his go-between job after plumbing and before the cop gig.

Joel didn't seem overly excited. I was crushed. He just stared at me, hugged me and smiled... but not an overly excited smile. Just a smile. I was ecstatic! We had been waiting for SO LONG! How could he not be shouting it from the rooftop? I wanted to beat him.

I later found out that Joel was just overwhelmed. He had started his new job not long ago, had started the police academy yesterday & now, after so many false hopes & negative tests, I was pregnant. Little did he know that just two weeks later we would find out there were two growths in my belly... little baby beans... Abbigail & Aiden.

I chose the name Abbigail, because I loved it. I decided to spell it with the 2 B's, because when I 'shortened' her name, I didn't want to have to add a B to the traditional Abigail. Why bother shortening if you have to add a letter later? :)

Joel chose Aiden. I liked the name, because Carrie on Sex & the City had a boyfriend named Aiden... John Corbett. Not only did I think John (aka Aiden) was hot... I also loved his name. So Abbi & Aiden it was.

I'm not going to get into the nitty-gritties of the pregnancy. More power to the woman who love being pregnant... I HATED IT! For such a long-time wish, I sure hated the process. But the outcome was so incredibly worth it.

Logan was a huge surprise... a true gift, although I didn't realize that at first, as I was beating my head against walls, cursing the doctor for telling me I would never get pregnant 'without help' and crying profusely, because unlike last time, I wouldn't be a 'skinny pregnant person'...

Yes, it took the idea of Logan a while to grow on me. I wanted to name him Gavin. Joel didn't care for that name. After much deliberation, and realizing that if I didn't come up with a name quick, Joel was going to name our child after an EverQuest character, we decided on Logan. I love the name Logan. I think it sounds nice with Abbigail & Aiden, too. My little cutie-bugs.

In the beginning, I was a fabulous Mom. I was extremely patient, and didn't let much get to me. After a week, I was a crazy woman. I had a bout with post-partum depression, which I'm not ashamed to admit, and it took me quite a while to find my place at home again. I felt like babies had invaded my home. Their toys, clothes, bottles, blankets, diapers, Baby Einstein.. everything... was just everywhere!

After finding my place as a Mom, I became a rather good, albeit flabbergasted parent. I'm still that way today.

Just tonight the kids were throwing toys into the crock pot full of water in the sink. Earlier today, they all decided to shake juice onto their heads, making them look like dirty mop heads when I got home. As I've explained in previous posts, they like to make food concoctions in the play room, and flush hotdogs down the toilet. Aiden called "Joel" instead of Daddy or Dad. Abbi once said damn-it and I couldn't help but laugh hysterically. Tonight I told Aiden to drain his lizard, something most Moms would never say to their kids.

We are definitely not your run of the mill, traditional-type parents. I enjoy being crazy, and have been accused of being random and "not right". I like that. I want my kids to learn that life can be fun... and they don't have to 'fit in' to be awesome people!

I'm glad I thought I would suck as a Mom. I'm glad we couldn't get pregnant right away. I'm glad I thought I was broken, and I would never see a positive piss stick in my lifetime. All of these things have made me a better parent... and a better person.

And I'm proud of that.

When Life Throws Poop at You, Finger Paint!

2009-07-12T16:06:00.000-07:00

"When Life Throws Poop at You, Finger Paint!" -by Me.

This isn't a new topic that no one has never mulled over. In fact, I've learned that, in every day life, a lot of folks discuss dung. You know, BM, @n@l ooze, diarrhea, etc. Whatever type and no matter you may call it, there is a whole lot of poop-talk going on in this world.

If you work in geriatrics like I do, poop is a constant discussion. People either poop too much, don't poop enough, can't poop at all or play with their poop. That's just how it is.

As I've mentioned before, it's a bit glorifying to know that famous people poop on the same thrones we do... no one is exempt. That fact should make you happy! Famous folks get gas pains, poop bubbles, runs and turtle heads just like the rest of us! Yep! On the set of a movie, Brad Pitt may just have to run to the chamber pot and drop a load... cool, huh?

If you live on a farm or work with animals, poop is also always on the daily to-do list. Dung can be absurdly funny if you have an open mind. Horse apples, for instance. Seriously... you don't find that term to be fanatically funny? If not, you may not enjoy the list below. If so, read on... this just might make you snort a little... it worked for me!

I will start with the somewhat funny & move to the outrageously hilarious:

Poop Terms:

An Artifact: Mostly solid poop appearing to be normal at first glance. Once flushed, however, fecal remnants attach to the bottom of the toilet for the next pooper to discover. (Admit it, this has happened to you! I take pride in knowing it has happened to each & every one of us!)

Before I move on, I have to throw this out there, because I've always wondered. Do models who do not eat and/or regurgitate their food, actually poop? Something to ponder. If one doesn't eat, does one defecate? Hmmm...

Moving on...

Cabbage Poo: This is poop which comes out of the bum green. (I have noticed that grape Koolaid causes this type of dung in many children, and most adults.)

Cajun Poo: Poo that burns on the way out of the bum...

Cantaloupe Poo: A turd that is as wide as it is long, and makes a huge splash once it hits the toilet. (Think of it like little divers... that can really, really cause an ouchie.)

Ghost Poo: Poo that disappears once it hits the toilet. Kind of haunts ya... wondering where it disappeared to...

Salad Shooter: A form of loose poop that sprays out of your bunghole at a fast & furious pace.
(Think of Heidi Klum... yep, I bet she has had a spray or two in her lifetime...)

Spaghetti Poo: Turds that are so smooth and thin, they actually curl in the bowl. (Meatballs, anyone?)

Underachiever Poo: Poo that is so small, it wasn't worth pooing at all. (In moments like these, skid marks may be a back-up plan... perfect if you are driving down the road, and you just don't feel like wiping with a leaf.)

And my very favorite poop term, which I have never heard of or contemplated before this evening:

Upper Deck: This is where you take the top off of the back of the toilet and poop in the reserved water so that the poop is trapped. Every time the toilet is flushed afterwards the toilet will be filled up with fresh poo water. (This is so hilariously disgusting... I can't imagine ever doing this, but if you really don't like someone in your family, or someone at work, I suppose it could be great fun! Just remember... you'd have to have a very sick mind to pull this off...)

Now, onto poop synonyms. I have heard a lot of hilarious turd terms over the years. Here are some that have stuck with me (LOL) and some newbies I intend to use for years to come...

Poop Synonyms:
-Drop the kids off at the pool (my husband uses this term often)
-Drop anchor (I like this one... a lot!)
-Drive the Browns to the SuperBowl (New one for me... I plan to share this with my friends who are Cleveland Browns fans)
-Pinch a loaf (I find this phrase to be extremely gross, but after reading this blog post (if you've made it this far), you probably don't believe a word I say about all things disgusting...
-I have a turtle head pokin' out (Wicked giggles)
-Growing a tail (hehehe... imagine a grape Koolaid poo combined with a spaghetti poo...)

If you have other pooping synonyms, feel free to share them in the comments section.

I'm truly not sure how this poopy post will go over... after reading message boards related to poop, I've noticed that many people have a bur up their butts when it comes to dung talk. I warned you... hehehehehe....

Another poop quote:
"It might do the world some good if those with poop predicaments would start logging their logs" -also by Me.

On a side note, I want everyone to know that this topic idea did not come out of thin air (like a ghost poo)... the baby has pooped SO many times today, it has been utterly impossible NOT to think about poopy-butts.

If you have a sick, deranged, grossly twisted mind like I do... you completely get this, and won't have anything but sickeningly funny comments to add.

If you are a nose-pinching snoot, guess what? We know you poo, too! You can run but you can't hide! We know you have the best dung-drops of em all...

Oh Poop, I gotta run...

Resources:
http://www.workpoop.com/glossary.html
http://www.maclife.com/forums/topic/45074

Back Bumps... Cleavage From Behind...

2009-07-10T19:02:00.000-07:00

I saw back cleavage today. I didn't realize it existed. It gave me an overwhelming urge to research the condition... was the woman I saw just carrying weight in her back, or was she blessed with two sets of funbags? I may never know...

This happened at the bank. I was in line... the window I was standing at closed, so I had to step behind people who had just walked up to the other line. It irritated me slightly, but me being me, and the fact that it was Friday made me realize that it was in fact, no big deal.

The woman I'm speaking about was facing me when I first changed lines. She was talking to her very thin friend, and they appeared to be annoyed with the bank worker. I found it slightly humorous. When the woman turned around with her back to me, my eyes grew. Those big huge puppy dog eyes I've always wished for appeared. Then they turned into saucers... I had to look away or there were going to be after-4th fireworks right there at the bank! I thought my eyes may explode. Back cleavage! Who knew?! I was amazed!

This poor lady was wearing a very tight, low-cut tank top and her back and front sides looked identical! I couldn't help but wonder if she had two butt cracks. I am not so rude as to take a picture of this... although I really wanted to! In all honesty, I was just afraid I would get caught. If there hadn't been people standing behind me, I so would've had a picture of that cleavage. I've never been into cleavage, or boobs for that matter, but back boobs are really quite amazing!

The front crack and back crack had no dissimilarities! I wondered if they made bras for this poor lady... bras that have front and back cups... and where would the bra fasten? On the sides maybe? Talk about an over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder! I soon realized that it didn't really make a difference... this woman obviously didn't believe in bras at all. No bra straps to be found. I looked on in wonder...

I couldn't help but ponder if this woman would be considered a God-send among men. So many guys love boobies! Did it matter that she had bulges protruding from other areas? Guys, tell me, if you knew a woman with four tits, would you really care how the rest of her body looked? It's exactly like the butter-face scenario... "everything's hot butter face".

I've never understood the boob fascination, whether they're front boobs or rear boobs. It's amazing to me how much men love these bags of fat. Seriously! If we were carting around fat bags like that on our arms, we would be considered hideous! Is it the nipples that make the difference? If women had big fat bags hanging from their ass cheeks and they had nipples, would men find that attractive? I'm not so sure they wouldn't... the male population is obsessed with titties.

I was once involved with a leg man. I understand the leg thing. Legs are hot! But the breast thing throws me for a loop... I guess the good thing about having a boob man... we don't have to shave em. Keeping up with my stems for the ex was quite a chore! The boobs are easy. Either hide em away or flop em out & you're good to go. Men don't care... they'll take em any way they can get em.

I'm a little disappointed right now. I just looked up the definition of back cleavage on Urban Dictionary (a funny site by the way if you haven't been to visit) and this is what it says:

Back Fat: When a fat lady (particularly old), wears a swimsuit or bra that is too tight in the back and it squishes the back fat together to give the illusion that there are boobs on their back.

I did some further investigating, as I was not satisfied by the definition above. I found a photo of the beautiful Alicia Keys, who believe it or not, had back cleavage at the Grammy Awards! So even hot chicks can have back breasts! How strange!

I also found a video on YouTube with a song dedicated to back cleavage. You must see it! If you enjoy stupid humor like I do, you'll giggle and maybe even snort a bit. I did.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9S0oqCk6sRI

I wonder if women with back cleavage enjoy their extra pair? I wonder if the men who love them look at their back breasts longingly when they are behind them, and their frontal breasts when they are facing them.

Men, please weigh-in here and let us ladies know if you enjoy a nice pair of back boobs.
Inquiring minds want to know...

Off to look at my back in the mirror...

Ladies, be thankful for your knockers, and gentleman, be thankful you have women who are ready & willing to share their pillows with you. Yes, we are all blessed.

Come Into My Bedroom...

2009-07-08T16:50:00.000-07:00

I love my bedroom. It is by far my very favorite room in the house. It's amazing how a box of a room can be transformed into a beautiful get-away.

Now, to the average rich bitch or the pimpin' mac daddy, my bedroom probably holds no fascination. For me, it's pure bliss. I have little treasures and trinkets... things I absolutely love & lust (see Denis Leary & Gavin DeGraw below). I'll explain in pictures... it's the easiest way! The pics are a bit grainy... they were taken with my cell phone... but I think they capture what I see when I walk into my little oasis. Enjoy!

Our bed is so comfortable, I just look at it and literally feel my eyes start to flutter, and a little bit of drool starts coming out of my mouth...
My mom introduced me to 600+ thread-count sheets a few years ago, and I'm now truly a sheet whore! I love them! I can't get enough! My birthday is December 1st... sheets please! I'll love you forever! ;)

As many of you know by now, or are about to find out, I am in absolute lust with Denis Leary. I can't help it. I look forward to Rescue Me like it's a drug, I have The Asshole Song on several of my mixed CDs, I have Denis on my desktop at work (HA! I wish... I mean my computer) and when his book Why We Suck came out last year, he was in my bed... a lot! :)
As I've mentioned before, his beautiful wife, Ann, was the author who encouraged me to start blogging. I read her blog, and fell in love with it. I still read it daily. I sent Ann an email praising her blog, and she quickly responded with nothing but encouraging words. When I do publish my book one day, Ann will be mentioned...
So, anyway, back to my bedroom... Ann Leary was sweet enough to have Denis send me an autographed picture earlier this year. I have it proudly displayed in my bedroom...
He is the cause of my one deadly sin... lust. ;)

Believe it or not, this is my wedding bouquet. I had a small bouquet at our wedding, and we had it freeze-dried and framed. It was pricey, but worth it. I think it's beautiful. And it has remained beautiful for over 10 years now. Good investment.
Th sconces hanging on each side are Home Interiors, which I purchased at a dirt-cheap yardsale for 50 cents each... I love them. I love all things dirty & cheap...

This doesn't appear to be a very interesting corner, but for me, it's my little library, among other things... You can't see the mirror above my night stand, but it's gorgeous... another yardsale find... as were the crazy flowers (they reminded me of me). I love my little book basket, or magazine rack, as most folks call them.
My Grandma Pat gave me the night table years ago. It's beautiful. I now also have the hutch that matches it, which will be a focal point in our new home. We don't have room for it at the current house. It sits in the garage, waiting patiently.
My Nicholas Sparks collection is in my little book basket, along with my lovely book "Book Lust" which is a journal for readers. Nicholas Sparks spends lots of time in my bed, too. I heart him.
I think my lamp is absolutely adorable. My scroll calendar was a Christmas present to myself last year. And my mom gave me a beautiful music box last year, which holds all of my hair thingies. :) Little hiding spaces make me happy!

Whenever someone goes on a vacation to the beach, I ask them to bring me back shells. I love shells. I love the beach. I truly don't want to have to ask anyone for anything... I'd much rather curl up in a ball and ride along in your suitcase to the beach itself.
I found some great shells in Atlantic City last November! Mom & Dad go to Myrtle Beach a lot, and they bring me back colorful shells from the gift shops. I'm not picky... but I do LOVE my starfish and my sand dollar.
As you can also see, I have a headless woman holding my necklaces. I thought it was rather strange at first, but headless chick has grown on me. I'm sure her head would be very pretty if she had one.
I can't take it anymore! I MUST talk about Gavin! The picture in the very pretty frame, is me holding on for dear life to Gavin DeGraw, and completely ignoring my husband.
Gavin is a sweetheart, and Joel is an even bigger sweetheart for putting up with my mad crushes. This picture was taken in August of 2008. I was then blonde. I now... am not. ;)

Here is a closer look at the picture of the picture of Gavin & I... and Joel. LOL
You can also see my stack of paperclips, which I tend to leave in my scrub pockets at work.
I always take them back! Jeez! Give me a freakin' break... and please keep this on the down-low :0) That's how rumors start people! Hehe...
The box below the picture & paperclip population is full of seashells from Atlantic City.
I wanna go back... right now...

I was once an Avon lady. The mirror and shadow boxes are from my Avon days. The vine going up my wall is from Uppercase Living. I absolutely love their stuff! I have a friend who sells it.
It's difficult to see in the pic, but my perfumes sit on a very pretty mirrored tray.
I really like oil warmers... I have several... and my candle, in all it's prettiness, has pink sand surrounding it. A beach with pink sand would be my dream location.. I don't even need a house... I'll just sleep on the pink sand & jump in the ocean when I start to stink... It would be lovely!

My jewelry chest is one of my most prized possessions. It's gorgeous, and I've had it for several years now. It's packed with jewelry (most of it isn't real, so no thievery please...)
The mirror is also awesome! It was an Odd Lots special years ago...
and my candles were a freebie from hosting a PartyLite party... they have the greatest incentives! I used to host a party once a year & get hundreds of dollars worth of smell-goods for next to nothing!

Last, but certainly not least, is my "Be Yourself -Everyone Else is Taken" embellishment from Uppercase Living. This is one of my favorite sayings.
I live by it. I love that it says it's okay to just be me...
Good rule to follow... cause I really can't change the facts.
Acceptance is the first step, right?

Okay, hope you enjoyed the tour...

I'm going to my room.

Over the River & Through the Woods...

2009-07-05T06:37:00.000-07:00

Our Seemingly Normal Family :)
Read on...

This past couple of weeks has been just a trip at our house! As I previously posted, my children had a wonderful time with everything cold... the refrigerator incident... http://kellysoriginals.blogspot.com/2009/06/water-coffee-creamer-baby-carrot.html

We have also had a hotdog & Cheez-its flushed down the toilet... I'm so thankful it wasn't a braut or a steak, cause I'm not sure it would've flushed without assistance, and I sure hate having toilet water splashed up at me...

The kidlets also took a sneak peek into my purse, ate all of my 3-hour mints (they should be minty fresh for the next 5 days), made a swimming pool out of orange drink, little people & a bowl... not to mention they found my new unopened pack of gum and impacted their mouths with it.

The joys of being a Mother...

Here are some pictures from the past couple of weeks. I will add captions for the full Kelly-esque experience... I'm not adding pictures of the toilet, because that would be, well... weird...
Enjoy...

Gavin DeGraw Concert in Fort Wayne, Indiana. This was our 3rd Gavin concert within the past year. We were lucky enough to get front row again, which is just absoluely awesome for a blind gal like me...
I could actually see him... and grope him... and bite him... ya know, if I wanted to. ;)

I came back from my 9-day hiatus from work to a brand new computer, which I immediately decorated with Denis Leary. It's so nice to have him at the office every day! We've really bonded...

The kids & I played house. I was the baby. Abbi was the Mommy. As you can see, my sons do not like to be dressed. They like to show off their abs day in & day out... SO into themselves... ;)

Aiden being absolutely illegal. Abbigail does not like anyone in her room. Everything is very neat & tidy, and princess-y... If things are out of order, her toddler OCD kicks in & she goes through the roof.
Aiden likes it...

My friend Amy & I had a girls' night out. I was thankful. Amy chose my drink for me... a peach Sangria. It was a little piece of heaven.

I'm adding this photo because I know my husband reads my blog, and he likes boobies.

My wild babies before the 4th of July Party. This was the day of the Cheez-It incident AND the gum/mint incident.

The party we went to was just absolutely awesome! They had a pond with a little beach for the kids to play on & Mommy's to relax on. In my mind, I was on the beach... sunning in a lounge chair (no sun that day), enjoying the sand (most-likely bought at Walmart), having hunky waiters bringing me fruity drinks (my Diet Coke tasted better than ever!).

We took a walk down to the river through the woods at the party. That reminds me of a song...
Anyway, Logan was taking in all of the wild life, mosquitos, scenery, etc.

At the party, we also played Cornhole (that sounds SO Ohio!, bounced in the blow-up 'castle', jumped on the trampoline and when we got home, we enjoyed the Prospect fireworks right from our front yard.

Ups & downs, and ins and outs... it has really been a great past couple of weeks!
It just took me typing it all out to realize it.
:) -Kelly

Shrinking :)

2009-07-03T09:41:00.001-07:00

A while back I mentioned the fancy vitamins I've been taking. I had been wanting to lose some weight & was feeling extremely lethargic. I was absolutely tired of being tired! I would come home from work exhausted, with no energy to play with my babies or my husband. ;)

While my hectic schedule had a lot to do with it, I knew my diet needed attention, I needed to start exercising and taking my vitamins again. Then I met an AdvoCare distributor and started using their products.

Within a week I was absolutely hooked! Not hooked like you get hooked on drugs. :) I was hooked in the best way possible! I had an immediate increase in energy, and I started dropping weight instantly. Within the first 4 weeks I lost over 16lbs and my motivation sky-rocketed. For the first time in a long time, I truly started to believe in myself! I knew that with the amount of success I had already seen, I could continue to find the courage and motivation to continue a healthy lifestyle... something I sometimes lack.

I started faithfully taking my vitamins, exercising more consistently and eating right, with a few splurges along the way. :)

As excited as I am with my short-term success, I know the long-term effects will be amazing! I'm so anxious to run again! I used to run like a crazy woman pre-babies. I want that back!

As you all know, I normally throw my slap-happy humor into nearly every blog post. I really wanted to tell you about AdvoCare today!

Check out the website: https://www.advocare.com/09064465/default.aspx
You can help me earn a little money :)
I recommend the MNS for appetite control if you have weight to lose. You can also check out the MNS for energy. And if you need instant energy, the SLAM is awesome!

Alright, no more sales calls ;) I just had to let my readers know! I'm stoked!
Let me know if you have any questions.

-Kelly :)

The Conversationalist

2009-06-30T18:24:00.001-07:00

My favorite subject in school was English. I loved it. I bought Cliff's Notes just like the next kid, but I loved writing, and if it was my choice of reading material, I loved that, too. My friends often asked me to 'help' them write their papers. My friend Amy once told me I could bullshit my way through any subject. She was right.

I know now that life is very much made up of conversations... words. If it were not for words, we would just be thrusting our bodies around to attract the opposite sex, and beating people up to get a point across. Words can be beautiful... they can be manipulative... they can be sweet, and they can be evil.

Math was always my downfall. I hated it. I still do! Admittedly, I count on my fingers when I'm playing Yahtzee. I carry the one, count like a child and often cannot remember "simple" multiplication... I simply don't like it.

To me, English (or your language of choice) is so much more relevant. While we have dictionaries and thesauruses (which I LOVE by the way), much of our individuality has to do with our words, the way we use them and our knowledge, which would not be properly expressed without conversation.

There is no uniqueness in numbers. I understand why people are fascinated by them. I once knew a man who could multiply 1,549.268790385 by 3,453,209.44123430 in his head! He amazed me! Honestly, I thought he was odd, but I'm sure numbers people see us language people as equally as odd. I get that.

I've started journal after journal over the years. I've always had a love for terminology, expressions, grammar and the pure amusement of words.

I absolutely love it when someone says a word that is not spoken on a day to day basis. I like to throw "hiatus", "nonchalant", "passive", "mediocre", "dung" and other random words into sentences. It's not that they're difficult words... they just aren't used as often as "poop", "vacation", "quiet" and "okay"... see what I mean? Boring compared to BAZOW! I like to be that BAZOW girl! One thing I never, ever want to be called... BORING! That is worse than a slap in the face!

So, while the math nuts hang out, crunch numbers and don't spend money on huge desk-size calculators, I will enjoy my fascinating, and often foul-mouthed vocabulary, while I count on my fingers & use my calculator to multiple 4X12.

Often, it's the words we use that make us the person we are.

Well, dung!

Quietly Confident

2009-06-29T19:57:00.000-07:00

I have a pet peeve. I can't stand it when people talk about how they have the most beautiful face in the world, the cutest hair, the prettiest smile they've ever seen or the cutest toenails. I'm all about affirmations, but I'm more about common courtesy. When you say you have guys falling at your feet, and you look so damn hot, you are... quite honestly... losing respect every time you open your mouth.

I'm not one to complain about these things normally, but enough is enough. I've seen it more and more lately. To me, the most attractive people in the world are those who are quietly confident. They walk with their heads held high, radiate a fabulously beautiful glow and make you want to be part of THAT confident crowd... not the crowd that talks about how their ass looks so hot in their new jeans or their new thong is so sweet and adorable. UGH! Most of us quietly confident folks DO NOT WANT TO HEAR IT!

I am NOT a quiet person, but I am quite confident.

That brings me to one of my favorite quotes, written by... me!

Quote: Have you ever noticed that the most attractive people can open their mouths & ruin the whole damn thing?

There is a lot to be said for quiet confidence. You will NEVER hear me say how hot my girls look in a bikini top (though it is my dream to be toned enough to wear one!). I'm not judging the people who do build themselves up. I'm just telling ya sometimes your build up feels like a put-down to others.

Suck it in, stick em out, bat those eyes and sigh... I know... You Are It! Ugh!

Water, Coffee Creamer, Baby Carrot, Parmesan, Chocolate Sundae Anyone?

2009-06-28T17:56:00.000-07:00

I'm used to my heathens. Like all kids, my children throw tantrums (yeah, don't tell me yours don't), smile wickedly when one of the other children gets in trouble... and their favorite thing to do? Play with things that are off-limits.

When they were little, the babies would open a gift (well, actually, we would open it for them, because they were born with ADD), and play with the box and/or eat the wrapping paper. No! They didn't swallow it. Sheesh! Give me some credit here.. I just let them gnaw on it a little. But they have always been more amused with household objects and packaging than an actual toy. That's just how they are. Give them a cardboard box, and some bubble wrap, and they're occupied for hours on end!

So, today is the last day of my 9-day hiatus from work. I laid the kids down for their nap earlier, and rather than tweeting, facebooking or emailing, I decided just to take a nap. The house is pretty much clean, I had chatted the hell outta my facebook and twitter friends, consciously decided to not do the work I brought home 9 days ago, and allowed myself to just veg. Aww... the couch...

I fell asleep quickly and woke up, what seemed like minutes later (it was actually 2.5 hours later) to Aiden yelling at me. I wasn't comprehending what he was saying. I'm normally a light sleeper, so those damn children must have tip-toed and whispered to do the damage I was about to see..

I heard Aiden yell at Joel. See, Aiden calls Joel, well.. Joel. He doesn't call him Daddy anymore. We think it's funny so we don't correct him (yeah, feel free to comment on our parenting skills. I can take ya. ;) Anyway, I heard him yell, "Joel, you can sleep longer if you want to, but Logan made a HUGE MESS!", and then I heard a door slam. Aiden was furious! I started laughing. He sounded like a miniature version of his mother & father combined.

So, I finally comprehended the twins telling me that Logan had made a "huge mess". I stumbled out to the play room/sun porch and about died! Then I started laughing like a full-on lunatic! ALL, and I mean ALL of the condiments (and many other refrigerated items) were sitting there. On the backboard of the basketball hoop, which they had placed on the floor, was a whipped up concoction of baby carrots, 10-12 bottles worth of water (we had NO water left in the fridge at all), hazelnut creamer (that kinda pissed me off, cause that's my favorite), Parmesan cheese and chocolate sundae syrup. See picture above.

Surrounding this lovely brew were emptied water bottles, ketchup, pickles and other various items which are off-limits, unless we are actually, well.. eating.

We decided the best punishment for such a sickening mess would be to make the children clean it up! The carrots were extremely slimy and gross, so this punishment did wonders! One by one, they carried carrots into the house. Aiden grabbed a jar of spaghetti sauce at one point, looked at me desperately and said, "Mommy, can you carry this? It's way too heavy for my little boy hands"... I laughed hysterically. He didn't find this funny at all. Someone had the strength to traipse out to the porch with the spaghetti sauce, so that person could obviously carry it back to it's home. He walked to the fridge like he was carrying a big box of horse dung, not a little sauce jar.

Aiden's comments left me startled. I was so amused, it was impossible for me to keep a straight face. Joel did the disciplinarian thing. He laughed in between, but unlike me, he was very careful not to let the kids see his amusement. I don't have that kind of control. And I certainly wasn't leaving! This was free entertainment!

Aiden screamed at Logan, "this is SO terrible. I'm SO disappointed!".. HA! As if he hadn't had a thing to do with it! So, we finally concurred that all three children played a part in this very organized, hilarious condiment scheme.

I couldn't help but spring some tears, and maybe a bit of pee, when Joel opened the window on the porch, and just threw the whole damn backboard outside... after the kids had cleaned it up. Joel doesn't get rattled very often, so this whole scene was extremely funny. The kids looked shocked. I know what they were thinking... "why did we just clean that up if JOEL was just gonna throw it outside?"... hehehehehehehehehe!

I asked Aiden why they did it... "cause it was fun Mommy"... and did you have fun cleaning it up? "Yes Mommy, I did"... wicked laughs! I couldn't take it! Joel says, "so, since you enjoyed making the mess and the cleaning up, will you enjoy the spanking you all are going to get?" Aiden: "No, but I won't cry"... Joel: "Oh yeah?" Aiden: "Yeah, cause you won't spank my butt, you can just smack my hand JOEL, Ok?" I couldn't hold it together at all.

Aiden looked over at me finally and said, "Mommy, I guess you're gonna have to go to the store and get some more of that cream for your coffee and water. I guess we can't eat tonight." Please remember, Abbi & Aiden are 4.5... they are twins... they are GOING to get into trouble. You know that saying, "what one doesn't think of, the other one will?" Well, it's amazingly true people! Logan, who is 2.5 is the tag-along. And the blamee. He doesn't talk much, so if the twins do something and they know it isn't right, Logan did it. They're learning... that we are a very smart Mommy & JOEL... not Daddy. Hehehehe!

Abbi sat on the couch pursing her lips, wanting a kiss. I laughed. Logan sat there holding his little tiny ass. I laughed. Aiden told JOEL he was sorry... I laughed. The kids were spanked. I didn't laugh, but I did as soon as they were done crying.

It was a fabulously entertaining evening here! No treats though. That broke their hearts more than the spankings. Aiden apologized several times tonight. He was very worried about the lack of water in the house. Little does he know we have faucets. He was also concerned about my morning coffee. I'm concerned too.

Tonight was, by far, the worst and the funniest event of my kiddos' lives. I'm glad it happened. I needed a laugh.

Ding-a-ling

2009-06-27T11:07:00.000-07:00

**The Smart Ass**

My head is spinning from listening to the twins (my kids, not my breasts) playing pretend all morning (because breasts playing pretend would just be, well... strange).

Anyway, the kids have been playing with this little broken plastic purple house. I can't throw it away, because they would know. Even if I do something 'without them knowing', they know! They hunt me down and poke & prod at me all day. They stalk me! So, in short, the broken plastic purple house stays. I don't feel like being poked today.

Along with the plastic brokenness, they also have little tiny dogs and cats who have apparently morphed into my children in their minds. At one point today, Abbigail yelled "MOM!" hysterically 3 times. When I finally asked what was going on, she said scoldingly, "I am not talking to you!" with a giant sigh. I love it! I can sit back and not answer to "Mom" today... yay!

Since I hear "Mom" an estimated 5,000 times a day (more if I'm not working), I appreciate this pretend time. Aiden earlier yelled, "get outta this house or I will beat you." Now please realize, we don't say things of this sort to or around the kids. They do have an oddly fascinating love for the Powerpuff Girls, and I believe they are the cause of my children's evil-ness as of late. As a friend of mine would say, "bugger!"... we HAVE come to an understanding that the word 'Stupid' s NOT allowed in this house. I hate that word!

Among the list of other words I hate:
-Tender (ugh!)
-C*nt (just don't say it... I will gag)
-Scrotum (seriously, who would name a body part a 'scrotum' that is so close to another body part that is supposed to turn us on... YUCK!)
-Puss (uck... in every sense of the word! SO Gross!)
-Buford & Hog Leg (the two words my ex nicknamed his ding-a-ling.. he was obviously delusional, and I'm quite sorry he isn't computer savvy, cause I sure would love for him to see this. Heheheehehe *evil snicker*)

So, back to playing pretend, although I greatly enjoyed that little detour, while watching & listening to the kids, I realized how much people in general play pretend... put up a facade. I'm guilty of it. I'm sure you are too on occasion.

How often, in passing, does someone ask you how you're doing, and you say 'fine'. Rarely are we just 'fine'... but we continue to say it, whether we just want to get the hell away from the person asking, or we just don't feel like getting into the drama called our lives. To me, 'fine' is just a reflex now. I'm not sure that many of the people who ask really care. I think the 'how are you's' and 'how's it goin's' are actually auto-pilot questions, too. Sure, some people truly care when they ask, but often, it's just a formality.

One goal I have set for myself lately is to not ask cookie-cutter questions & reply to others with cookie-cutter answers. Who cares if they don't really care when they ask? At least YOU are being authentic if you give an honest answer. I appreciate it when people are genuine. I try to be. I almost always am, but sometimes 'fine' is just easier.

Make-believe for kids is a bit more innocent than grown-up 'play'. We adults really 'play' eachother constantly... go through the motions. It would be nice to know what people really think.

Then again, maybe a touch of make-believe isn't so bad. I tend to like this little place I call my lala land... a little too much. I don't think I could give it up. It's definitely my happy place.

So... my plan? I'll continue to be happy in my own little world, and to allow the slaps of reality to only burden me when they are truly important. Healthy? Maybe not. But it's my world, and I'll be enjoying the blissful chaos day after day...

Wanna join me?

Nailing, Screwing & Glass Licking...

2009-06-25T09:20:00.000-07:00

I can never find a hammer. Our laundry room is full of pictures & doo-dads I wanna hang up. I procrastinate, not only because I think it's incredibly frustrating to hang a picture & it quickly becomes crooked, but also because of the fact that the hammer is never anywhere to be found.

Losing things happens a lot around here. I can never find my glasses. I can't tell you how many times I've vowed to put them in the same spot... it just doesn't happen. It's a bit ironic, really... blind girl looking for glasses which make her not quite so blind.

Feeling for them is more like it. It's really too bad glasses don't have a scent. I suppose scratch n' sniff glasses would be pointless, since one would have to find them to scratch them to sniff them. Hmm... that covers three of the senses. I guess taste is out. Licking around for anything just doesn't sound fun unless you are under the influence or in hot, steamy mode... though I have known some to enjoy a good glass licking (see above photo).

I won't even mention hearing... that would just be weird... talking glasses. Actually, it could be fun... after pondering... imagine your glasses yelling "YOU SUCK" or "Lick Me Baby" at a particular time each morning. Alarm clock glasses. Man, I could totally patent this stuff!

Back to the hammering now, cause I like that subject... the children know that I'm always hammer-less. I know right where the screws & nails are. I don't screw as much as I nail.. I prefer nailing for sure.

Aiden, bless his little heart, has offered me his plastic hammer from his tool kit on occasion. Last time he offered, I thought "why not?" ... it worked. It mis-shaped the plastic a little, but it did do the job. I've also been known to use random household items to nail something.. a can of peaches (no puncture wounds to report), the 'other end' of a screwdriver (why is it that the driver is always nearby?) and a baby doll head (no rude comments please... the plastic was VERY hard and the doll's head remained intact).

Other items I lose consistently include, but are not limited to:

-My cell phone

-My keys

-Brain cells

-Money

-As of late, my ass, thankfully :)

-Shoes (seriously, who loses shoes?)

-My kids (KIDDING!)

-Respect (for comments made, such as the one above) ;)

I'm going to set a goal to spend less time looking for things. Rather than having to trouble myself with putting things in their own little place, if I lose my glasses, I'll just go blind and pray I don't hit anyone or sign my life away. If I continue to lose the hammer, I'll just start screwing instead. If my keys are missing, I'll just steal the neighbor's motorcycle. If I lose my shoes, I'll wear my Betty Boop slippers and if I lose those, I'll stop at the nail salon... barefoot... and ask if I can get a pair of those pretty disposable pedicure thongs. If I lose my kids, I'll be thankful for a little vacation. If I lose my phone, you can't bother me. If I continue to lose brain cells, right on! ... I'll be even more closed off from the dark realities of this world... and if I lose respect, that's okay, cause I won't have the brain power to comprehend any of it.

To all of you fellow losers out there, let's drink to that! I'm buyin' a round of test tube 'skittles' shots all around...

And I wonder where my money goes...

It's Amazing How Something Flat Can Make Life So Bumpy

2009-06-20T12:26:00.000-07:00

Do you realize how difficult it is to keep a straight-face in a professional meeting when you know that, sitting out in the parking lot, your car looks like this? That the main event of the work day is people asking what the hell happened to your car? It's quite hard.

I started my day yesterday on quite a bright note. After working my 7 hours and 15 minutes, or whatever we're cut back to right now, I was outta there for 9 full blissfully work-free days! Even through the torrential downpour, I smiled on my way to work, thinking of how clean my house would magically become over the next week and two days. I daydreamed of sitting in a blow-up boat on the lake, sipping something fruity through one of those itty bitty stirrer straws, and being in the front-row at the Gavin DeGraw concert, he'd wink at me, then pull me up on-stage with him to sing a beautiful duet.

I daydream like this a lot... especially in the car... if people look in my window while driving down the highway, they probably wonder if I just got laid. I'm quite smiley anyway, but in the car, it seems that my imagination takes over. I'm either at the beach, in bed with Denis Leary or sitting in my beautiful mansion, telling Esther to get my sleeping mask & my flask.

Well, my daydream was rudely interrupted yesterday morning when I realized I had a 'flat' tire... or something like that...

Almost to my exit ramp, I felt a thump... thumpity thump... then I realized I was driving 5mph... the car wouldn't let me drive any faster, and at this point it was no longer thumpity thump... it was bing bang bitch BOW! I truly didn't even freak out. Sure, it pissed me off that I had a flat, but I handled it very well.

I pulled off to the side of the exit ramp and called my husband. He calmly told me that since I was so close to work, I may as well drive it the rest of the way there. HA!

So I did.... bing bang bitch BOWing all the way! I drove 5mph, and what would normally take me 3-4 minutes to get to work from this point, I made it in no less than ten :)

I knew something wasn't right when I looked out the passenger side window while driving around a curve, and noticed that rubber was flapping in the wind... all the way up by the windshield. I was laughing so hysterically, I had tears in my eyes. I kept driving... the BOW became Clunkity BOW BOW Clunkity BOW BOW! I wondered if I'd make it into the parking lot. I did. YAY!

So I parked way out... where hopefully no one would notice. HA! Pretty soon, I'm sitting at my desk, trying to get organized for my last day of work, and I get a picture message from a coworker on my cell, asking me what the hell happened to my car. Along with it was a picture of my tire. I later found out that, due to previous experience, staff assumed that I was unaware of the jacked-up tire. See, I normally listen to my music so loudly in the car, while daydreaming, they must have concluded that I did not hear the thumpity thump clunkity BOW BOW clunkity BOW BOW over my thoughts & music.

The car is still sitting where it was sitting yesterday... there in the parking lot... it's amazing how many people noticed it... and scolded me for driving to work on a blown-up tire. My husband told me to people! Blame him! :)

So... as you can tell by the photo, there is now a lot more wrong with this car than a flat. I don't think we'll be patching that tire. I'm not even sure we can attach a new tire to the old hole it's supposed to fit firmly into. What I do know is, I don't really give a shit.... I'm on vacation baby!

Risky Business & Late Night Picnics

2009-06-14T09:10:00.001-07:00

I've drank both nights this weekend. After Friday night's solo drinking, I had no next-day side effects. Unfortunately my luck didn't carry over into today. I'm so tired. My head hurts. And I now know that Jack Daniel's Down Home Punch is not the best beverage for a calorie-counting weight loser. I've concluded that skinny girls who drink every night must not eat... they drink their calories. I've realized that unless I can bite into it, it's probably not worth the calories... unless it's a cappuccino, or some other type of fancy coffee. I think I'll stick to my natural high-on-life perspective. It's much cozier here.

I was quite amused when one of my best friends stopped by at 1:30am yesterday. We had a middle of the night picnic outside. These are the activities that can only be truly appreciated while intoxicated. We laid there & talked... I drank my punch. She drank her Koolaid. We act drunk even when we're not, so the picnic wasn't much of a stretch for either of us. We ate Doritos together, and attempted to play Marco Polo with other drunken neighbors. We thought about fishing in the creek next to my house, but resorted to just laying there... I love laying in the grass... whether I'm under the influence or not. It's a strange fixation of mine. I could probably sleep outside every night & be perfectly peaceful... if it weren't for psycho serial killers & the crazy neighbor lady who asks us to petition for big trucks to be moved from the immediate area. Yeah, she sucks.

On a happy note, I'm starting to be able to feel a difference in my clothes since I've been losing weight. It feels good! I am appreciating the ride... I decided to do that... to enjoy the process, rather than only appreciating the end result. I feel better about myself after a straight month of journaling and hard work. And, other than this day-after-drunkenness setback, I have had very few days where I go to bed or wake up feeling exhausted. I'm much more energetic, and that makes me one seriously happy loser!

I've gotten away from posting a quote each day. I'll try. No promises, but I do promise to try ;)

Today's Quote:

I drink too much. The last time I gave a urine sample it had an olive in it.

-Rodney Dangerfield

Have a great day! I'm off to drink lots of water now... need to stock up on the ripply goodness of Cottonelle.

Kell ;)

Dragging Cats & Missing Appendages

2009-06-13T11:04:00.000-07:00

I hate driving. I truly do. I take that back... I like driving to and from work only. I love listening to my music at illegal volumes, singing even louder & tuning out everything that is evil... including my cell phone.

I'm also not much of a phone person. I have a select few people I enjoy talking to on the phone. Other than that, I screen. I don't mean to be a screener... I know it's quite rude, but know in advance... if you call me, there is a good chance I'll look at my caller ID and put my phone down, emptily promising myself to call you later.

Now if you text me, I'll most-likely answer. I wish all of the calls I get at work could just arrive in text form. For such a social person, I sure do enjoy technology! I'd rather see your face when we talk to me... or just not talk at all. It's not you, it's me. And it has nothing to do with how much I like you, or how interesting you come across on the phone... well, actually it has everything to do with that, but I wouldn't want to hurt any feelings here.

Back to driving... I have hit several mailboxes in my day. Luckily they weren't too badly injured, and I drive pretty much the same, even though I no longer have a passenger side mirror, due to my love for touching mailboxes with my rear views. I truly don't miss it. For a while, I left it hanging there, cracked & broken, whipping in the wind. One day I was guilt-stricken. I felt like an evil cat hitter dragging the cat at high speeds down a busy highway, while people called 911 to report mirror/cat abuse. I couldn't afford jail time and my conscious couldn't take it, so now I'm just completely mirrorless on that side. It's sort of like having one ear, one breast or one eye... you have to work a little harder to do every day things (such as cut people off) but in the long run, we become stronger people because of it.

You see, in the rearview mirror of life, you may see things differently than you would if they were in front of you. For instance, if a mailbox hit me, I may think twice about driving too closely to the right side of the road. If I called God and he checked his caller ID only to promise to call me later, I may be more apt to answer my phone. My running into mailboxes has taught me a lot. I will now be writing a book... "Everything I've Learned in This Life I've Learned from Hitting Mailboxes"...

It's the smallest events in life which teach us the biggest lessons.

-Kelly ;)

Kissin' the Curb

2009-06-09T15:40:00.001-07:00

I really don't remember ever blogging when I'm pissed off. I thought this could bring a new perspective to my oh-so-sweet image! HA! As I've mentioned in previous posts, I smile sweetly at people, say hello to everyone who crosses my angelic path, and think only good of others. Tonight this is not the case. I'm just irked. Mad, pissed, angry, evil... whatever ya wanna call it. I'm just AHHH! It's definitely NOT the night to mess with the Kelly. I may scream in your face or start laughing uncontrollably. You just never know when circumstances like these arise.

I'll start at the beginning...

I was visiting my best friend Sunday night. I took a trip down to the gas station to grab some Subway. We've both agreed in the past that deli meat sandwiches are not at all fun, nor a treat, but it was that or Taco Bell. The choice made itself.

So anyway, I get to the gas station & I'm feeling a bit woozy. This isn't too different from my usual state, so I don't think a lot of it. I stepped out of my car and immediately twisted my ankle. I then fell over a curb, fell onto my knees and then onto my nose. I had my glasses on, so the middle section decided to cut into my face. It was fabulous. And to top it all off, I then fell onto my forehead. Priceless!

To rewind this scene, I'm sure I would laugh hysterically, along with the rest of my friends & acquaintances, who all assume I had been drinking when this incident occurred. Just so you are all aware, I was not inebriated. I was, however, drinking grape sugar-free Kool-Aid, which I hear causes green bowl movements. How interesting! I'll get back to ya on that one!

So after falling in slow motion, I then sat on the pavement, unable to get up. A guy walked out of the gas station, looked at me, didn't say a word and got into his car. I smiled at him. How nice that he stopped to make sure I was okay. Asshole!

Then a lady ran to me and asked if I needed some napkins. I felt my face, and when I looked at my hand, I freaked out just a little more. I was bleeding! A lot! Sure lady... bring me some napkins. I stared at her blankly. What I thought had come out of my mouth hadn't. But she went to get my napkins anyway.

When she got back, she asked if I needed help up. I explained to her that getting up at that point wasn't gonna happen. I think she thought I was crazy. She was right :0) Hehe.. okay, so a little smile just emerged from my irritability. Dam it.

So, after I was holding some napkins, I put the contents of my purse back together, grabbed my evil glasses (I will soon be a full-time contact wearing diva) and stood up. Oh woozies.. it woulda felt good if it didn't feel oh, so bad!

I got in my car. A man ran up to me and asked me if I was okay to drive. "Probably not, but I'm gonna" I said. I then drove back to the nursing home. I called my mom, who works there, to ask her if there was any way to get to my friend's room without walking by the nurses station. No such luck. I had an older resident compliment my purse (thanks, by the way, lady!) on my way to my friend's room. Of course, there were several people sitting at the nurses station, and although I was trying to cover my oozing face, they noticed. LOL. Damn giggles.

Nurse Jennifer took care of me. She asked me if I knew my name, where I was and what day it was. I felt so proud! I knew them all! I was secretly hoping for a sticker, but once again, no such luck.

So, to make a longer story a bit shorter, I went back to my friend's room, my husband & kids picked me up (I wasn't sure if I should drive, because although I wasn't drunk, I'm pretty darn sure I couldn't pass any cop tests.. you know, walk & turn, HGN, etc. I'm not even sure I could do those things on my best non-drunk day), and we came home. My mother, husband and best friend informed me I should go to the hospital. I refused. That's right. I refused treatment.

So I've had a killer headache for 2 days now. I know I should've went to the hospital, but it was Sunday night, and the thought of sitting at the Marion General ER just didn't sit well with me. I'd take my chances. If I went to the hospital, I'm sure they would've just told me I was dehydrated or I had an upper respiratory infection, and sent me on my way... I said a nice prayer just in case I didn't make it through the night. (Stifling more giggles as we speak.)

Well, I made it.. and still today (Tuesday) I have had a terrible headache all day. So I went to the doctor today, and they informed me they want to scan my cat. How fun! I've never had a cat scan before. I figure it's a couple minutes of quiet, right?! Who cares about the claustrophobia. I get peace! Bring on the machines!

Tonight when I got home, I explained to my babies that I needed quiet time. Mommy's head was pounding. Daddy had been up over 24 hours, and neither one of us had much energy. The kids decided to scream at me louder than usual (or maybe it just felt that way since I feel like my head is full of lead pipes) and Joel decided to play Rock Band. I tried to catch up on my Young & the Restless in the bedroom, but do you think that worked? Heck no! The kids follow me everywhere. I know I sound like a fantastic Mom right now. I love my kids dearly, and I don't know what I'd do without them (okay, so I do... I'd vacation... for a long, long time), but sheesh! Give me a break!

Well, Abbi now has to poop, Aiden is throwing an economy-size package of baby wipes around the living room and Logan is jumping on Aiden. I have to go. Please pray for me... and forgive my cursing. It's a bad habit... but I enjoy it.

Kisses to all. Hope you all are just swell.

Kelly ;)

The Come Back...

2009-06-04T13:29:00.000-07:00

I have been so incredibly goofy this week. I can't focus. I'm taking these fancy vitamins, and I think that has something to do with it. I'm also watching my calories, drinking lots and lots of water and exercising. The difference in my mood, energy and the almost instant lack of bloat has been fabulous! The lack of focus is a bit disturbing, but I can live with that. I'm a ball of energy from sun-up to sun-down and beyond!

I'm not drinking energy drinks and taking caffeine tablets or anything... I'm just eating right and taking vitamins... and the exercise... oh the exercise. My calves are still quite sore from my last fast-paced walk. I'm walking with a friend, which helps. Although we enjoy taking breaks, laying in the grass, and we often text while walking. It's good to have large open areas if you are a text-walker. Trees can be dangerous, and holes in the ground can cause a twist of the ankle knobs. But we do it anyway!

I've lost 6.4lbs in the past 2 weeks... and a total of 12... it makes me feel good. I want to lose quite a bit more, but I feel like I am becoming the healthy chick I want to be. If I get a hot bod in the process, I'll enjoy shopping much, much more!

Pure craziness is the most fun side-effect from my weight-loss and new found energy! I talk even louder than usual, sing on the intercom at work (wait, I did that before!), try to steal glasses of Diet Coke from the Chinese restaurant and scream at innocent bystanders from car windows.. even if the car belongs to somebody else. Summertime is perfect for car to car fun! In the winter, you have to be a bit more creative... like last holiday season when I threatened that I'd beat people while riding down State Route 95, holding a giant roll of wrapping paper out my window, and shaking it at more innocent people creepily.

I know a lot of people in my immediate world can't stand my happiness and pure wildness. I also know that I have a few appreciators, and that's all that really matters... plus the fact that I'm so silly most of the time, my mind can't focus, so I just assume everyone loves me. I love you all, too!

I'm thankful for the uniqueness we all possess... not so much for the bitchy, mean types, but I still love you... I just think you need to dig out that squirrel that sucks all of the happiness out through your bung hole. You would be much happier without squirrel droppings taking the place of your happy cells.

I thank you for your patience in reading this. I'm foggy, and while I enjoy the fog, you may be lost in space by now. Confusion is blissful... trust me!

You can check out my fancy vitamins here... and all kinds of other goodies!

www.advocare.com/09013719

Toxic TV

2009-05-24T18:24:00.000-07:00

I am easily amused. I love most anything, as I've mentioned in previous posts. The mere sight of Denis Leary makes me a silly, giggling basket case.. similar to a school girl with an erotic fascination for her much older teacher.

I won't bore you with a list of the 100,507 other things that make me swoon, sing and sweat... but I will share with you that one of my favorite pastimes is watching TV. I understand that some very influential people do not have televisions in their homes. I think that's odd, but I'm not one to judge, so I just assume they either can't hear or see, they are afraid they may reenact the scenes on CSI or The Girls Next Door, or they simply enjoy meditating at home for hours, praying for their deep-seeded anger over not having a television to go far, far away.

I don't watch TV for hours on end. I have my favorite shows, I record them and enjoy watching them and fast-forwarding through the commercials. If I happen to see a commercial with Denis Leary on it, I rewind (imagine that!), but otherwise, I don't like to waste time on them. I am thankful for the invention of the DVR.

We don't deprive our kids of the evil, mind-altering cartoons either. They have actually learned a lot from the dreaded television. We do all of the other stuff, too.. we play outside, read, play games, blah blah blah... but they love their Noggin and Scooby Doo, and I'm quite alright with that. Sure, Abbi has said damn-it (which was disappointingly hilarious), but I figure when preschool starts this Fall, the twins will hear a lot worse... probably from the non-Tv-watching kids whose parents scream ass and shit and damn constantly, due to their pent up non-Tv-watching frustration. Assholes. ;)

I will now tell you about some of my favorite shows and why I love them so:

1) Rescue Me -Main reason I watch this show: Denis Leary, the occasional appearance of his cute little butt, fireman in uniform, cryptic humor, lots of cursing, lust, a hot show I can watch with my hot hubby.

2) Grey's Anatomy -Main reason i watch this show: Hot doctors, namely Mark Sloan, hospital sex, good acting, more lust... occasional love thrown in.

3) The Young & the Restless -Main reason I watch this show: Watched it since I was 4. Nick Newman is freaking hot! He & Sharon are hot together, it's always there, it never goes away. ;)... I do miss Ryan.

4) American Idol -Main reason I watch this show: The auditions are priceless, and I can't get enough of terrible singers who think they are incredibly talented, the transformation from week 1 to the finale, hot guys that can sing, a show I can watch with hubby (although he makes fun of it), Adam Lambert.

5) Desperate Housewives -Main reason I watch this show: Gabby's clothes, more cryptic humor, the fact that the last show sucked, but the next one just might be better, Marcia Cross's hair.

6) Jon & Kate Plus 8 -Main reason I watch this show: Kate is evil, I feel bad for Jon, I love that they make my life look easy, I feel blessed when I watch this insane show, the fact that we may get some gossip on Kate's evilness towards Jon, and the cheating accusations, pure craziness!

I could go on & on, but I'll close for now. For those of you who enjoy your television shows, I bow to you. For those who don't have TV's... enjoy your chair yoga (if you allow chairs in your home) and your bird watching. The rest of us use binoculars for other things.

Quote of the Day: (if you watch Grey's Anatomy, you'll understand this. If you are TV-less, you won't have any idea who this Meredith Grey person is, or what in the hell this quote means. Maybe you'll understand tomorrow's quote :)

Meredith Grey: You don't know this yet, but life isn’t supposed to be like this. It’s not supposed to be this hard.

PS: For all of the people who now think I'm evil, this was posted all in good fun. No hate mail please... well, it's okay if you send hate mail... I can take it! I might report you on TV... you'll never see it! Hahahahaha!

Puffy Clouds and My Love of Stuff

2009-05-19T20:33:00.000-07:00

Quote of the Day:

There must be more to life than having everything! Because where would you put it all!

I like stuff. Lots & lots of stuff. I don't like to have clutter. I like everything to be neatly put away - or at least thrown into closets and rooms not viewable by others.

When I buy new uniforms, I wash them all so I can see my dozens of pretty scrub outfits hanging in a row. I have several pairs of shoes to match them as well. I'm a 'stuff' person. I love jewelry and books, my computer and gifts.

I don't particularly want to be this into stuff. I just am.

I do appreciate the free pleasures in life, too. Family, friends, the beach, etc. I don't let my love for my favorite stuff overshadow my love for natural and beautiful non-stuff.

I realize that when I die I can't take stuff. I do like to believe that God makes Heaven our own, and I may have a big screen TV with endless new episodes of Rescue Me, while Denis Leary and I sit together on our puffy cloud and watch each and every episode while eating Chinese food and 7-layer cake, all the while not gaining an ounce of weight, because food in Heaven has absolutely no calories, and people that get through those beautiful gates are granted pecks and guns as they cross the magnificent threshold.

My whole point in this babble of a blog is to tell you that while stuff is often the source of my amusement and happy-go-luckiness, it is not the source of my contentedness and happiness.

Stuff just can't do that.

Quickies in a Dream State...

2009-05-17T19:14:00.000-07:00

Sunday nights are bittersweet. I'm sitting here, deciding whether to go to bed with my ever-available Nicholas Sparks, or watch Desperate Housewives. I really don't want to go to sleep. If I do, that means the weekend is over, and it's back to my simply chaotic life. If I don't, I'll wake up tired and groggy in the morning, wishing I had opted for a quickie with Nicholas, and then turned out the light, escaping to my vividly romantic dreamland. In all honesty, I rarely remember my dreams, but I know they are vivid from the few I have remembered.

A few years ago I had a dream that Eminem took full advantage of me, just like the hot French guy who took advantage of Diane Lane, in the steamy bathroom scene in Unfaithful. Although I had never thought of Eminem as hot, he became a short-term crush, solely based on his seemingly perfect bathroom love-making skills. I told my husband about it. He found it to be hilarious. Even now, if Eminem ever comes up in conversation, which very seldom happens, I see amusement in his eyes. It's been a while since the rapper has come up, but I'm sure I'll never live it down. My crush has long subsided.

I think it's incredible how our imaginations work when we're not even aware of it. I once bought a dream journal. I had good intentions to leave it by my bedside, and after a dream, I would open the book, scribble my dream details, and then look in the back to see how I should interpret them. I didn't even think about the fact that I am so muzzy when I wake up, there is no way I would take the time to write in a damn dream journal. I'd rather sleep. Jeez! What was I thinking? It sounded like a good thing to do at the time...

I do think it would be neat to have a compilation of all the dreams I've had, whether I've remembered them at some point or not. Maybe when I get to Heaven one day, I'll ask for the DVD. Actually, that surveillance alone may send me directly to the subterranean vault. Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut, and hope that God doesn't judge us on our subconscious thoughts.

Alright... I'm off to have that quickie now...

Quote of the Day: “Dream what you want to dream; go where you want to go; be what you want to be, because you have only one life and one chance to do all the things you want to do.”

Toothpicks & Confidence

2009-05-16T19:13:00.000-07:00

I don't think confidence is something that comes naturally for most women.

I noticed while I was at the gym earlier this week that many thin, beautiful girls & women are quite self-conscious. There was a girl on the treadmill in front of me who was looking around, tugging at her shirt to cover her barely-there booty, obviously about to have a panic attack, thinking someone may think or say she was fat.

On a machine beside me was a very pretty, round woman with a larger derriere, listening to her iPod, smiling and humming without a care in the world. She rocked! I stared at her for a long time. In fact, if she hadn't been in her own happy place, she may have wondered what the hell I was staring at. This woman did not care. She had no problem with her shape, and from the way she was working out, I have a strong feeling she is in excellent physical condition. The toothpick on the treadmill was walking at a snail's pace. The entire comparison was just eye-opening, and amusing.

I have never exuded self-confidence. I take that back. I was once told that I look stuck-up because I walk tall (I'm 5' 10" so I really have no choice) and look straight ahead. Since I was hit with this unsettling information, I am now always careful to smile at everyone, and normally I speak to them as well. That is, unless they are the type to interpret 'hello' as an invitation to talk for an hour about their perfect dog, and perfect kids and perfect flower garden... then I smile widely, and start walking just a little swifter.

So, okay, maybe I radiate self-assurance but it's always been a bit of a facade. I have very pale skin. I always have. I don't tan... at all... ever... luckily some guys think that's hot! :0) In all seriousness, kids find something about every other kid to pick on. Mine was obvious. And the mean things those kids said hurt me... for a long time.

Just the other day I wore a shorter skirt to work. Many of the residents commented on how nice I looked. They are all painfully pale, too. They understand. :) One of the first comments I heard from a staff member? "Girl, you need to find yourelf a tan"... other remarks included, but were not limited to, "have you ever heard of bronzer in a bottle?", "I never realized how white you are"... It was annoying at first, but then I realized it was actually amusing. Imperfect people pointing out my imperfections. Finally one of my favorite nurses said, "Well, what do they expect... your face is pale, and your arms... why would your legs be any different?" I loved her fori t.

See, I have very long legs. I actually think I have fabulous legs! Yes, I have tried the tan in a bottle, and I'm not writing it off... I may try again. But it streaks me. I know, I know.. there are lots of good braands out there... blah blah blah... the point is, when you are as ghostly as me, they are ALL gonna streak... between the fingers, on the ankle nubs... and should I go ahead & rub my ears with it so they will match my face? See? It's not so simple for a melaninless chick with daddy-longlegs! Seriously!

I realized that day at the gym how much less self-conscious I am now. I compare myself to the two chicks at the gym, and I realize I am a healthy in-between. I don't exactly hold my head up high, thinking I'm a hottie, but I don't stare nervously either, wondering if I'm the center of everyone's attention. I am not flawless. I have many imperfections. But I also have some pretty great qualities! I hear I am funny. I was just voted the most happy-go-lucky employee at work for the 2nd year running, I (as I mentioned before) have pretty damn good legs, I get the occasional boob compliment, I have good hair and I am going to have FABULOUS skin and look EXTREMELY young when I am old!

I enjoy my enhanced self-confidence. Nothing has boosted it except for time and experience. Ten years ago I would have never even noticed those two ladies at the gym, because I would have been too concerned about my own appearance. Today I can see the world, and not see only myself... just me in it.

Today's quote of the day:

“They can't hurt you unless you let them.”

Until tomorrow...

Kelly :)

Optimistically Skeptical

2009-05-12T14:15:00.000-07:00

Don't ever take a fence down until you know why it was put up.

-Robert Frost

This is so true, and can be remembered and utilized in so many areas of our lives. While I believe it is important to be an optimist to truly enjoy life, I also know, after years of trying to prove myself wrong, that not instantly believing everything you hear is very healthy. A bit of skepticism is not necessarily a bad trait.

I consider myself an optimistic skeptic.

Until tomorrow...

Kelly :0)

Mother's Day: Damn It

2009-05-10T11:19:00.000-07:00

It's Mother's Day! It's 2:21pm, I'm still in my pajamas (heaven!) and my kids are quietly watching a show (Powerpuff Girls... ugh) before naptime. In all honesty, we all still have our PJ's on. I decided this morning not to do anything today except relax, read, enjoy the babies and do whatever came to mind that did not involve work, other than the necessary diaper-changing for our 2-year old. Since then, I've loaded the washing machine 4 times, the dryer 3 times, I've cooked lunch & I've unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher. I'm sitting here sweating from helping the kids pick up their toys (in conjunction with a very hot house) and I wouldn't have it any other way...

When I became a Mother, I realized how incredibly huge my heart could stretch! I remember the first time I heard each of the babies cry... Abbi and Aiden 4 minutes apart, and Logan exactly 2 years to the day later. There is nothing like those memories. They say never to let your memories be greater than your dreams. I believe that, but I also believe that such memories can never, ever be surpassed.

That brings me to my Quote of the Day:
Sweater, n.: garment worn by child when its mother is feeling chilly. ~Ambrose Bierce

I interpret this quote two ways, and I believe that both are true. Firstly, I believe that it is meant in a literal sense. If we believe it's cool, we automatically grab a jacket, a sweater, etc for our kiddos. Depending on the Mom's OCD level, she may also grab earmuffs, a scarf and snow boots. Hey, it's March, but you never know... it could go from the 60's to snow in 0-60 seconds. I happen to be in Ohio, where this is not far-fetched whatsoever.

I often help the kids get dressed and ready to go, check myself in the mirror by the door (I placed it there intentionally) and realize I forgot to fix my hair. Even more often, I start to walk out the door, only to realize I haven't put on my own shoes. It makes me laugh thinking about it. And a coat or jacket? Forget about it! Rarely do I leave the house in layers. But the kids... that's a completely different story. They are layered up like little onions... Once again, I wouldn't have it any other way. :)

I also interpret the fabulous quote of the day... here's a reminder... Sweater, n.: garment worn by child when its mother is feeling chilly. ~Ambrose Bierce to mean we struggle to protect our children. I, like most Moms I know, do not want their children to hurt... ever. We don't accept that other children are 'just mean'... that does not make it acceptable that they are mean to OUR kids! When we hear a story about a child being beaten, or worse, we automatically put ourselves in the position of the parent, and cannot imagine the deep pain they are feeling. We just want to protect them.

Before our babies were born, I never understood unconditional love fully. In an instant, one single solitary moment, we are taught so much. The more children we have, the more our hearts expand. It is absolutely accurate that we don't have to divide our love between our children... our hearts just swell more and more... and enable us to love each child more and more, unconditionally.

I must close this entry by telling you that my 4-year old daughter said, "damn-it" for the first time today. Although I do drop the occasional 'bad' word (see nearly all previous blog posts.. lol), Joel & I are very careful not to drop those words in front of the kids. Today I realized they are going to hear and learn these words one way or another... it made me a little sad when she said it, but it made me laugh, too... many more bad words to come, I'm sure. My heart will continue to swell, and to hurt, more & more...

Motherhood is so achingly sweet.

I Miss You

2009-05-07T18:48:00.000-07:00

We spent another evening at the hospital. I promise to post a proper entry this weekend.
In the meantime, here is a wonderful quote/poem that matches my feelings right now precisely.

Where you used to be,

there is a hole in the world,

which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime,

and falling in at night.

I miss you like hell.

~Edna St Vincent Millay

Can't wait to talk to you again. -K

Hope

2009-05-06T20:42:00.000-07:00

Today has been a long day & emotional day. I have been at the hospital with my best friend, and I do not have an ounce of energy left to write a fun or fancy blog post tonight. Instead, I will share this quote of the day. I believe it speaks for itself:

Hope is not a dream, but a way of making dreams a reality.

Quotable

2009-05-05T11:57:00.000-07:00

I've heard many quotes. I've jotted them down, kept them, believed them, lived them. Quotes are amazing... if you really comprehend them.

Some quotes are more difficult to understand, and take a few glances to touch our hearts... at least for me... but I tend to be a bit slow...

I am going to start posting a quote of the day. I have learned that when I hear a quote, or read one, it often touches me in that moment... you know... similar to the horoscope section of the newspaper some people live by? Yeah, that's what I'm talking about. Sometimes quotes hit us just right, and we remember that line throughout the day. This happened to me just today.

Quote of the Day:
Friends are the family we choose

I find this to be very true. I have had many friends in my life. I have not been the perfect friend. I have learned and grown, and I now believe I am worthy of their friendship. That was not always the case...

The friends who believed in me kept me around, and I thank them for that. The ones who let me go, or I had to let go of, because I was once very easily influenced, are gone. The good news is, if they come back into my life, I'm ready! I have more of a grip now. Tell me to jump off a bridge... I'll look at you like you're nuts... well, unless we're going skinny dipping, then I might say "hell yeah!"

I have older friends, younger friends, new friends and 'classic' friends! We're not talking in car years here... if you are a 1999 model car, you are sooooo not a classic. But if you have been a true friend to someone for 10 years or more, I believe that friendship can move mountains... and run it's way through the obstacle course of life (Quotable?). Even newer friendships can do this, but those classic friends know us like nobody else. They are forever friends.

I have been on friend hiatuses in the past. I would hole up if I was having problems, and would emerge at some point ready to come out of my hermit shell. And guess what? My friends were there... the true ones... the classic ones.

I believe if we understand that no one is perfect, and we are able to tolerate imperfections, we can be true friends to others, and allow others to be frue friends to us. If not, the decision is made for us.

Friendship is a matter of choice, a matter of love, a matter of hope...
And I hope & choose to have my loving friends by my side for a very long time.

I love you all.

A Time to Talk

When a friend calls to me from the road

And slows his horse to a meaning walk,

I don't stand still and look around

On all the hills I haven't hoed,

And shout from where I am,

'What is it?'

No, not as there is a time talk.

I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,

Blade-end up and five feet tall,

And plod: I go up to the stone wall

For a friendly visit.

-Robert Frost

My Own Worst Enemy

2009-05-03T21:31:00.000-07:00

At this very moment I should be in bed. It's 12:31am and, once again, I will be waking up tired tomorrow. Okay, I'm tired whether I have had 4 hours of sleep, or 10. I just love sleep. It makes me happy.... along with fancy coffee, flip-flops (or slip-slops as my Abbi calls them), Denis Leary and my family & friends, not in that order.

I have come to the realization that I am my own worst enemy. I will often tell a resident at work how pretty she looks, or how nice he looks in his new shirt. I often get the replies, "Oh, I'm so old... I'm not pretty", and they shrug me off with a chuckle. I always tell them that they are their own worst critic. WOW, I've never put MYSELF in that position before. Sure, I receive compliments now and again, but do I accept them with a simple "thank you" and move on throughout my day, a little spark in my step from their nice words? Hell No! I pick it apart, and wonder if they were just sucking up... to the point where I don't even enjoy it. Huh... I guess I should practice what I preach...

I am genuinely a nice person. When I tell someone they look nice, I mean it. As I've mentioned before, I see the good in people. The bad sneaks in every now & then, but that is just being realistic. I often wonder what people truly think of me? I won the award for the "Happiest Employee" at work last year. I wonder if that's how people see me... as "happy"? Most generally I am. I like to think people believe I have a kind spirit, and I'm fun-loving and easy to talk to. I like to think that my less-than-perfect physical attributes (I'm quite pale and practically blind) are less seen because of my sparkling personality.

The problem is... I may be able to figure out what others truly think if I allow them to think it... to me. If I stop pushing the kind words aside, and take them to heart. If I let the nice things people say get to me as much as the mean things they do and say, I'd be a new woman! Why is it we remember the bad remarks so much more easily than the good? Why are we honestly our own worst enemies, our own worst critics?

I may not receive a compliment tomorrow... but if I do, I'm going to take it to heart. I'll let it put a smile on my face, and an extra spark in that step. I may even say "thank you" without laughing or shaking my head.

I have learned something today... I need to allow people to like me... in order to like myself. I am a good person, and I'm going to let the world see it. And those who don't? Well, they have issues of their own, so they need not worry about mine.

Don't be your own worst critic or enemy... join me and mean it! You are wonderful, and so am I!

Take Me There...

2009-05-02T09:42:00.000-07:00

Summer Vacation. The phrase sounds just like a little piece of heaven! My family & I went on vacations each summer when I was a little girl. I've been to many of the states in the US. I remember bits & pieces, but wish I remembered more... Here are some of my accounts from past vacations, which I have touched on in recent posts.

One of my more vivid vacation experiences is when my family went out west when I was around 7 years old. We took a 3-week trip and saw several states. I can clearly remember my dad, while pulling a travel trailer, driving on excruciatingly scary curvy roads. The 'curves' were much more like sharp turns, and most of the time, there were no guard rails to be seen.

I remember Dad having to honk the horn while going around these 'curves' and the horns still honking in my head long after we stopped driving.

I have 2 very clear memories from this trip... the first being absolutely amazing, in my opinion...

We were going around one of those sharp turn-curves I mentioned, and when we looked down, hundreds of feet, there were old cars piled at the bottom of this huge drop. I could not believe it! This was in Arizona. I believe there should be a name for this spot, and it should definitely be a tourist attraction to promote better driving. Those people that sped over the huge cliff learned their lesson... but they learned it a bit too late to change their ways. I like to think that the people survived, but there was no possible way of pulling the cars out of the pile-up hundreds of feet down. This was educational for me, and I still think about it. It was awful and amazing at the same time.

The second memory I enjoy recalling also took place in Arizona and has to do with my father, who can be extremely funny and impulsive! My brother wanted a cactus. He wanted a cactus really bad. My dad finally got so tired of hearing about the cactus, he pulled over on the side of the road in Arizona, walked right out to a small cactus and tried to rip it out of the ground. Dad's hands were covered in spines and I knew, although he had very rough and tough hands from years of work, he had hurt himself. It was an experience... I promise you that! And I still bring it up to my dad! Impulse cacti-picking is not for the weak or faint of heart. :0) We did not come home with a cactus. My poor brother. My poor dad's hands.

Now, I would like to share with you a wonderful memory from a summer vacation with my family when I was in the 4th grade. Our family went to Hocking Hills to camp in Ohio (a couple of hours from home). There were many activities going on at the shelter house, and when we camped, I tended to get involved in the activities taking place, and liked to make lots of friends (and boyfriends)...

I heard through the campground grapevine that there was going to be a singing contest! My love for singing pushed me to enter. I sang "Somewhere out There" from The American Tale. I won! I remember being so excited! My prize consisted of riding on a golf cart to the campground store, and picking out any t-shirt of my choice, on the house! I chose a pink Garfield shirt. I wore it to bed for YEARS! I'm sure it still resides in my parents' attic. I may even see it again one day! I remember Garfield was half gone last time I saw it, from repeated wash & wear. I was extremely proud of that t-shirt!

The following story is my first real vacation memory with my husband... and I still ache to go back:

Last November, my husband and I went to Atlantic City, New Jersey for our 10 year wedding anniversary. It was amazing! We budgeted and planned, and it was 4 days and 3 nights of bliss! Although it hovered between 50 & 60 degrees while we were there, and the sun didn't come out until the last day we were there, it was magical!

Joel, my husband, is very laid back... so laid back that I often get discouraged, because he is perfectly content to sit at home and stick to the routine of life. I am not this way. I like to experience things! To be impulsive (thanks Dad!) and try new, fun things! Vacations have always been on the top of my list of things to do, but Joel has always been nonchalant about vacationing, so I have pretty much let it sit on the back burner, just keeping it warm enough to know that one day I'd fire it up, and we'd finally escape Ohio!

When we started planning our trip, I was so extrmely excited! Joel didn't seem so excited. He had never seen the ocean. That shocked me! I couldn't wait to show it to him, and although he was not doing cartwheels at the thought of seeing a hugely beautiful body of water, I knew he'd be impressed once we got there.

I was right. Joel loved the vacation experience just as much as I did. I remember one night we had returned to our hotel room after walking on the boardwalk, having a homeless man yell at us (and others) to "GO DIE", eating pizza on the beach and checking out the strip of casinos. Once we got back to our room, I washed my face, got ready for bed and settled in. Joel looked at me and said, "you wanna go down to the casino?" I was in heaven! Such a shock for me! Joel was finally doing something on a whim! Atlantic City was bringing out the best in my husband. I liked it! I loved it!

We did a lot of things the 4 days we were there. I was so happy. I missed the kids, but knowing they were safe, I was able to truly enjoy myself and relax... and so was Joel. I can't wait to go back... whether it be Atlantic City or another city... I am looking forward to a WARM trip to the beach!

My dream vacation is to rent a house right on the beach... to watch the kids playing in the sand, building sandcastles and screaming with joy! My husband will write "Joel Loves Kelly" in the sand big enough for passing airplanes to see. I will sit on the beach with my collection of books, my notebook for future blogs, my babies surrounding me and my husband staring out at the ocean, that he once didn't care about, in awe... I want to start making our own vacation memories... ones the kids can laugh about and blog about one day...

I hope to be there soon...

Twists & Turns, Moo-Cow Roads & Positivity

2009-04-30T20:37:00.000-07:00

I went to a conference today. My friend & I managed to talk so much, we got lost on the way there, as well as on the way home. We had fun. Spoiling-wise, it came nowhere close to my last conference (see earlier blog post about my wonderful annual activity conference experience... already looking forward to next year). The seats were not of the swivel variety this time, and had no smoosh to them whatsoever. There were no decadent coffees to choose from... in fact, I didn't see any coffee at all. There was no dining room set up with cloth napkins, sparkling water glasses and a choice of 3-4 buffet tables (although the boxed Arby's lunch was rather good)... but the company was fantastic! I was a bit disturbed that the tables were so low, there was absolutely no way to cross my 5'10" legs... add a head & torso... you do the math. I always sucked at math.

I have always had a great fear of getting lost. If I had been alone today, driving through small towns I had only heard of (the conference was an estimated 2 hours away... hahahaha!), I would have had a complete nervous breakdown. This is no exaggeration... I would have freaked the hell out! You see, I am blind... of the legal variety... if you do not know me, you most-likely have no idea that I have a daylight-restricted license (due to vision problems, not legal problems). If I ever must drive to a town I've never been to, I either beg for a ride, or my husband... my wonderful husband... will take me for a 'run-through' the day before. The summers are fantastic! I can stay out until 9pm on the longest day of the year! Winters-not so much fun... curfew is at 5pm at best!

I'll share more about my visual impairment at a later time. It's really not important here... except to tell you that I do believe this is why I have such a fear of getting lost.

I remember odd things from my childhood. I remember a lot of funny, goofy times... but I also remember the times I got lost. I remember being at Sioux St Marie one year, staying in a cabin with my mom and dad, sister and brother. My brother was out fishing and a storm rolled in. I remember worrying about him, and running out to find him. When I looked back at the cabins, I realized they all looked alike! I had no idea which one was ours. My heart began to beat rapidly, and I had visions of being lost forever... on the beach... without my family. Then I heard my mom calling me. I couldn't see her, but I could hear her. Somehow I made it back to the cabin, as did my brother... it was a scary experience for me, but it also taught me to stay close to those who loved me.

During our 'lost' time today, I thought about the curvy moo-cow roads we were on, and how the twists and turns are just like life. My friend & I talked about how the swine flu began, and how it is becoming increasingly scary, not only for Mexico and the US, but now for many, many countries. We talked about our healthcare system, and the changes that are coming... we had wonderful conversation, and it swayed me to focus on our chitchat, and not the hills and curves that would normally scare me.

I was enlightened today. I think it's very easy to be afraid right now. There are so many variables... so many changes... I have not watched the news for years now, because of the depressive factor. I think the events and issues causing global panic, and citizens being scared out of their minds is largely caused by our peers. It was refreshing today to be with a friend with a positive perspective. I am not at all saying my circle of friends is negative... we tend to laugh off what we can't change, and I find that incredibly refreshing, too! It was just nice to have these circumstances explained to me in a way I understood... and in a way that did not make me grip my seat in panic!

I think it's extremely important to surround ourselves with positive people right now. Some negativity is a given... it's always going to be there. But as a whole, if we focus on our positive relationships, and the people who truly care for us, our happiness and the fact that we don't want to be scared shitless, the world, or at least a few of us in it, will be more positive and able to help others.

Humor is great. Realism not so much. But if we see our situations and our lives a little differently, I think we could make our part of the world just a little bit better.

Swine? What Swine? It's All About the Flamingos!

2009-04-28T19:25:00.000-07:00

Warning: Once again, must warn you... if you are not clinically insane, or close, you should stop reading now. This message will cut down on the amount of hate mail I receive. Thank you for your time... and read on if you're one of the fun ones, like me!
About the Central Ohio Flamingo Flu: DO NOT FREAK OUT PEOPLE! Media coverage will make this a water cooler discussion leading to heart attacks and anorexia. Don't get sucked into these antics. This is a serious case, but nothing Bob the Builder and some stick-poking admission charges won't cure:

There are so many bugs floating around out there... the Plague (hey, we'll all be plagued with something eventually, right?) and now the panic-causing swine flu. It is quite scary if you hang out with people who sleep in barns with their piglet friends, or have a swine fetish. I personally am not a huge fan of pork. I do enjoy bacon on occasion. Whether on the plate, or waddling around in a field, pigs are not my friends. I feel for them with this flu... no one is thinking of the pigs' feelings and the need for pig hospitalization. It's all about the humans! Just leave the pigs out of it, why don't ya? They invented it! Give em some credit.

So, tonight I was very distraught watching our local Central Ohio news station. We are now being overtaken by the incredulous FLAMINGO FLU! That's right! When coming in contact with a Central Ohio Flamingo, you will immediately notice symptoms unlike any other. It is a horrible disease, one that we should slap the flamingos right off their foot for.

Those affected by Central Ohio Flamingo Flu have contracted this disease by having hot, steamy make out sessions with pink flamingos, and by nestling with the birds on swan lake. These voluntary acts are not advised. On the other hand, if you wish to contract Flamingo Flu, consider the two items above your instruction manual.

Symptoms of Central Ohio Flamingo Flu Include:

-Involuntarily standing with one leg in the flamingo position

-Instant craving for crustaceans

-A curvature of the neck which cannot be treated, even by the most holistic chiropractor

-A light pink tint to the skin, eventually becoming a fabulous shade of hot pink!

-Involuntarily singing Coca Cabanna at the top of your lungs, out of tune, whether you have musical ability or not

Precautions:

-Be prepared to enjoy friends and family showering you with affection, hoping to add some color to their winter white skin.

-You may never switch legs. You are in a statuesque position now.

-Your leg will constantly feel as if it is on pins and needles, and once people notice this, they will be swatting at it with sticks and switches. Pretty soon people will be paying admission to see the Pink Flamingo Flu People.

-All proceeds will go directly toward Flamingo Flu research, and my children's college tuition.

Treatment:

-There is no treatment or cure for Central Ohio Flamingo Flu. You may drink large amounts of hard liquor to mask symptoms.

There is Hope!

-If the money raised does help us to find a cure, we will put you on a mailing list. You will likely receive a response within 365 days of the cure.

Contact Information:

If you have any further questions, please contact The Central Ohio Advocates for Flamingo Flu Research. Check your local listings.

My Friend Heda

2009-04-27T18:39:00.000-07:00

Warning: This blog post is NOT for those folks who do not enjoy cryptic humor. You won't understand the humor in this at all if you were not born a neurotic, slap-happy goofball. You must have a very special mind to appreciate a head of lettuce talking to you... very, very special. Read on if you dare... but I warned you!

Dear Reader,

My name is Heda (pronounced Head-a). I was delivered at Meijer in recent days. I cannot tell you exactly which day I was thrown into the lettuce bin. I was buried beneath many other lettuce heads of all shapes and sizes (well, mostly round, but we all protrude in various areas). Some heads were rotting onto me, and I was so very thankful when I began making my way to the top of the bin. I would rather be eaten than to live like this... in my own private lettuce hell.

So today I reached the top! Oh, what a glorious day! I sat there for a while, glaring at shoppers choosing my fellow heads, and then I decided to change my attitude. After all, I was at the very tip-top, and pretty soon I knew I couldn't be ignored! It was MY TIME TO SHINE!

So I enjoyed the sprinkles of water the workers sprayed on me, and basked there, changing positions whenever possible to show off my succulent-ness and my fabulous figure. I had very few protruding areas. I was the perfect choice for the woman eye-balling me. I had almost perfect roundness. And so did she!

The woman picked me up and fondled me with expert hands. She fingered my rear and squeezed me like a juiced-up lemon. I was so sure she would pick me! I was so overly excited I could hardly take the suspense.

Just then, out of nowhere, my plump would-be friend dropped me onto the tiled floor. She stared at me for a minute, turned her head in all directions to make sure no shoppers had witnessed her clumsiness and walked away! SHE WALKED AWAY! I just sat on the floor in shock. Thankfully I was sitting in a come-hither position. I knew I couldn't be resisted for long. I had no heads to compete with! I just knew I would be the first one to be noticed. I stuck out like a.... well, a head of lettuce on the ground.

Just then it hit me! Nobody would ever choose me over the others. I was tarnished! Think of all the feet that had walked on the same floor I sat upon. My heart began to break... my leaves wilted a little at the thought.

And then I had a moment of hopefullness. A tall, redheaded silly-looking girl walked by. She looked at me, turned her head and told me she would be back. Was she coming back to buy me? Was I finally going to escape the evilness of Meijer? I prayed! I wanted to be adopted. If just for a short while. I didn't care... I wanted to scream "you can eat me! Just take me home!" But I didn't.

The redhead came back then. I had seen her giggling all the way down to the cheese section and back. She walked up to me, cell phone in hand, and just as she leaned down, I knew she was going to pick me up! ADOPTION DAY! I couldn't take the suspense! I was panting I was so excited! "Come on redheaded mama... take me home!"

As she knelt down, she giggled at me once more and snap! Took my picture. She stared at me for a moment, and at that very moment, I could hear her thoughts.... she was thinking "I want to run over you... over and over and over you with my cart, but I'll resist because you are a perfectly good head of dirty lettuce. I'll leave you here to be plucked up by some other poor sucker." It was terribe... mostly because this redheaded hag was staring at me with such amusement in her eyes, and yet she was thinking of mowing me down!

I stared after her, willing her to trip. She didn't. Little did she know that I would later be gathered by a rich old woman, and after getting me home and into the refrigerator, she would pass away in her sleep, dreaming of the fabulous garden she never had. She had picked me out and washed me, thinking that she would make homemade coleslaw, and impress her lazy garden-club friends with her 'special coleslaw' from her fenced-in non-existent garden she allowed no one near.

I gloriously rotted in her refrigerator for 9 months. No one ever found me until the house was sold. I prayed the new owners would keep me, but my moldiness and lack of lustrous leaves must have turned them off. I was thrown into a dumpster, and later into a huge heap of trash, where I would become even more rancid over time, finally disintegrating into nothingness.

I do not wish this upon any of my lettuce friends. Lettuce all get along. Lettuce not drop lettuce and cabbage and other garden friends at the store, and not pick them up to allow them another chance to find a home. Lettuce love one another... we lettuce know you will eat us. We are okay with that. We just want to be chosen. We just need a moment in the sun. Lettuce have peace... between human and vegetable... LETTUCE.

Your Putrefied Friend,

Heda Lettuce

A Note From the Redhead:

Dear Heda,
I do apologize that I did not pluck you from your sad place on the Meijer floor. I had no idea you were so distraught. I did laugh at you. I couldn't help it. And you read my thoughts correctly... I did wish to run over you with my cart... repeatedly... over and over... but I didn't. I simply took your picture. What harm did that do?

Heda, I need you to know that the reason I did not adopt you is because I did not need you. I needed no lettuce for the spaghetti and garlic bread we were having for dinner. I simply needed cheese.

When I first saw you, I didn't know what to think of the fact that you were sitting all alone in the middle of the floor. I don't believe I've ever seen a single head of lettuce on the floor at the grocery before. I have now! And that's why I laughed!

You DID shine today though... I must tell you... I sent your photo to my friends. We talked about you all evening! Heda, I hope you understand that I did not mean to hurt you. I just needed a laugh, and you provided that. I hope you enjoy your lettuce heaven. Lettuce have peace on Earth! God Bless and Goodnight.

Your friend,

The Redhead