Weirdo Magnet

Apparently I am going to have to watch my comments. Someone posted what seemed to be an entire blog in my comment section and it had NOTHING to do with what I'd written. In fact, it was my post about surveys...I think I called it the king of the ding-a-ling....
All I know is that they ranted about everything from morality to the administration to a few other racist remarks that I don't want on my blog and it had absolutely nothing to do with my post.

So I deleted it.

If they want to post their opinion about something then they need to get their own blog.

I attract a lot of strange people and a lot of angst.

Must be my warrior appearance...



I'll admit it. I look like a good person to pick a fight with. I have that, "Please fucking abuse me" look about me.

So this weekend was a combination of this...



and this....



(minus the facial hair)...

Let's put it this way....I didn't have any desire to do anything. In fact, I wasn't even interested in this...



Or this....



Instead I felt kind of like doing a lot of this...



And this...



What a weekend to remember...whoo...

Anyway, I've turned the ringer off on my phone and I'm planning to do this today.



Why not? I think I'm just going to give in today and sleep it off. When life hands you lemons, squirt them in your eyes, have a good cry and then sleep it off. Cause you can be damn sure trying to make lemonade with them will only result in someone bitching about how it tastes. As for the whole stuffing your shirt with lemons to make your tatas bigger...well that will only result in someone getting jealous and bitching about it and being petty. If you throw lemons at someone, that'll probably get your ass kicked.

Today's wisdom is this...

"WHEN LIFE HANDS YOU LEMONS SQUIRT THE BITCHERS IN THE EYES AND RUN AWAY AS FAST AS YOU CAN!"

Fuck lemons and all the bitchers...they can suck it.

Normally I'm not a worrier....

The economy has me worried.
Am I the only one?

Mr.Man called me this morning while he was out and about looking around and wanted to know if he could spent $250.00 to $300.00 on something he wanted.

Er....

I'm not sure what planet or reality he lives in but does he actually think we have that kind of money for him to spend on his hobbies?

He took a different job with his company last year to help with the strain on his back. It meant a pay cut and less overtime. He made 15 grand LESS last year than the year before. I'm thinking that's A FUCKING LOT of a difference.

He seems oblivious to it.

So does everyone else in this house.

I pinch pennies and scrimp and save and when there does happen to be a little extra in the bank, he wants to spend it.
I'm worried about making sure we have a small cushion in case of an emergency.

Of course then I hear the old "I'm the one bringing this paycheck home" story and "You're not even working"...

Hold on one fucking minute here....

I don't bring home a paycheck but I do EVERYTHING else! And I do Mean EVERYTHING! I'm the one who takes the kids everywhere they need to go. I'm the one who volunteers in their activities. I'm the one who mows the fucking lawn at the ball field and at home because Mr.Man doesn't feel like doing it.
The other day when I dropped some things off to a friend of mine, he said, "You need to tell your husband to clean your car for you."
Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is for me to admit that not only doesn't he clean my car for me, he doesn't change the oil in it, doesn't take it to be inspected, doesn't do ANYTHING FOR ME AT ALL!

So here I am today, sick with a chest cold that's making me feel like someone had a vice grip around my lower lungs, and I'm cleaning the house. The kids are gone, he is gone and they all left me home with a sink full of dirty dishes and not so much as a washcloth clean in this house.

I'm ready to just break down and bawl my head off.

And now for the worst of it.
Mr.Man will come home and bitch at me because he wasn't allowed to buy his toy today.

Why is that my fault?

WHY!!!!

I make all the sacrifices here and I'm tired of it.
I just can't take it anymore.

Am I supposed to get a job and work my ass off because everyone else I live with are selfish babies.

I know I have been told that I need to do this and I need to do that and I can change things in my house if I want to but seriously, I HAVE tried everything...with him and with the kids.

It just doesn't take.
He doesn't listen or doesn't care and the kids don't take me seriously because of the way he treats me.

I'm just tired...I'm defeated and I'm sick.

I want someone to take care of ME for once in my life!!!

I'm tired of always being the giver. I'd like to try being the taker...just once in awhile, you know?

Sorry about the rant but I needed to get it off my chest. I'll suck it up and deal with it like I always do and I'll be my bright, chipper self again on Monday so don't stress over it.

I always manage to live up to the expectations of others. It's a good thing too because I have no idea anymore what I expect of myself.

Uh Oh...Mr. Man is home. Now the REAL fun begins...

I was threatened...but I ain't scared...

Miss KIA turned 17 yesterday. Unlike Veggie Stick she is a lot more concerned about what I'm doing and watched me like a hawk when I was on or even off the computer yesterday.
So...I couldn't post a birthday post for her because she would have caught me.

BUT THIS MORNING SHE IS STILL SLEEPING....BWAHAHAHAHA!!!

Miss KIA came into this world a very serious child. No matter what she was doing, it always seemed like she was keeping her eye on you...you know...watching every move you made.



Even with Freya feeding her she still had to keep her eye on what was happening around her.

Miss KIA was a happy child for the most part but always seemed to keep her distance. She would lose herself in books and drawing or making things.
She always seemed the happiest when she was the center of attention. Of course occasionally she was willing to share it with Veggie Stick, but only occasionally...



She didn't talk until she was almost two and a half. The doctors on Loring Air Force Base worried that she was autistic or had a hearing problem.They tested her for everything and found nothing wrong. She just didn't want to talk I guess. She would sit and read books to herself while making a "Da Da Da" sound, stopping only long enough to turn the page. If she hadn't been two years old, you'd have sworn she was reading the book to herself.
As it turns out, she WAS actually reading the book to herself. She could read by the time she was four.

While Mr.Man and I worried she'd never talk, one morning she woke up and walked in the kitchen and asked me, "May I have a drink of water?". It freaked me out....going from "Da da da" to a complete sentence. Once she decided to break the sound barrier between us, things became easier and she seemed to be less serious again. No more worries about her potential autism.



She was a very creative child and extremely curious. She read books on codes and languages and would make things out of household items she'd just pick up around the house. One day she found a book on Origami and everything changed for her. It became one of her great loves. In fact, she makes jewelry using origami now. It's amazingly beautiful and I've encouraged her to sell it.

While she was busy keeping herself occupied, Mr.Man and I worried that she wasn't cultivating friendships and getting out among other kids enough. While she would let loose with us around occasionally, it seemed as though she wasn't making friends very easily.
She was so serious.
Even while playing dress-up...she was serious.



There was always such a seriousness to her it was frightening to us. We didn't understand it.
So we cultivated another of her great loves and got her involved in music.



She had a BEAUTIFUL voice, even at an early age and could pick up music like it was nothing. We got her involved in several programs in school and she blossomed. The same year she was tested in school for the gifted program, she was enrolled in the Magnet program for music.

She LOVED it. It brought her out of her shell a little bit. Plus the gifted classes helped expand new horizons for her and we noticed her being more of a kid and less of a recluse. Plus the knowledge that she was exceptionally gifted helped us to understand her better. The school psychologist gave us a book to read about the personality traits of gifted children. We then learned that when she was looking at us like we were idiots, it was because she honestly felt that we were idiots. We applied some of out new found knowledge in our discipline and things went much more smoothly. "Because I said so", is not a sufficient answer for a gifted child and taking a few extra minutes to explain why really does help.

The silliness showed a little more often...



And her self confidence grew...



Still, she remained independent. It was her way or no way most of the time and we picked our battles with her. Even at Halloween, she had to make her own costume.



I'm not saying it was bad, because it wasn't...not at all...it was just the fact that she didn't seem to need me as much as the rest of my kids. Sometimes it made me feel like I wasn't being a good mother to Miss KIA.

In time I realized that wasn't the case and we learned to respect her aloofness. She grew in her confidence and personality and she seemed to almost let her guard down. I don't know how to describe it.

Yeah...she still had her alone moments where she would zone out and ignore the rest of the world...



But she also got more involved in things and became community oriented. She volunteers for a lot of good causes and belongs to the Junior Auxiliary for the American Legion. She is involved in 4-H and Girl Scouts. Veggie Stick doesn't seem as interested in community service but Miss KIA is.



Notice who's smiling and who's not...LOL

Honestly, I can't help but be proud of Miss KIA. While she and I may butt heads more often than Freya and I or Veggie Stick and I, she and I have our own unique relationship. Whether she likes it or not, we are more alike than she'd care to admit. We both love a lot of the same things and have music, crafting, reading, community service and curiosity in common.

She wants people to think she's serious all of the time...but I know the truth.

Miss KIA can be just as goofy as me sometimes...LOL



I love you and I'm awfully proud of the woman you're becoming. What parent wouldn't be proud of an intelligent, beautiful, unique individual like Miss KIA?



You could be looking at a picture of your future surgeon. That is what she's planning as a career choice so who knows? Some day you may meet your surgeon and recognize her as Miss KIA.

THAT'S MY BABY!!!!

See ya tomorrow...

I'm a working girl...and I'm pretty darn good at it too..

I've been killing myself with paperwork.
Seriously.
I am ready to grab my briefcase and chuck it through the window...or better yet, I'd like to take it up on the interstate bridge and empty the contents down onto Macorkle Avenue while doing the LaLaLaLa dance.



Yes...the LaLaLa dance....handed down from generation to generation. It's amazing the abilities one learns from one drunken generation of Swedes to another...

Truly, it is an art in itself.

I'm finally on the home stretch to finishing everything and as I sit here typing my little fingers to the bone, I have been contemplating what I want to do tonight. It's warm out and I'm thinking that a little drinking and naked LaLaLa dancing around the fire in the back yard might be in order. It is Wednesday night after all and here in Jesus Land, it's considered a night of holiness for what ever religion you practice.
I believe I might be placed under "Pagan" in the religion department. I don't seem to fall into any other category. I enjoy nudity and fires WAY too much to be a Baptist or a Catholic.
I was raised a Lutheran but apparently that's pretty close to being a Pagan, according to many people I've discussed that with since I moved down here.

Let's just say that my church experiences since I've moved down here haven't been the best experiences.
In fact, while you may find this incredulous,at one time I was actually accused of being a witch.
I was even going to church at the time.

I'm serious...it was just like the early Salem Witch Trials...

There was a couple who went to church with me that scrutinized me and analyzed everything I said and did. They are the ones who actually accused me of being a witch. They said that everything ranging from my likability to the way I dressed was the cause of their suspicion. I wore silver rings, which was witchy, and the cross I wore around my neck looked 'devilish' to them. PLUS the Swedish I spoke was actually my way of casting spells on people.



Yeah...they were both NUTS. Sadly, there were other people, who were good church people who bought into their madness and I was shunned.

Seriously...I was shunned by people I went to church with.

I still went. I knew they were all crazy. But it was the beginning of the end for me. I eventually felt that I'd had enough of religious organizations and decided to stop going to church. Occasionally you may find me at a particular church here in my home town, but I don't go regularly and I won't.

I prefer the one on one experience and plan to teach my children in the same manner. If that makes me a Pagan or a witch or what ever, then so be it. I'd prefer to allow my children the freedom to worship without being picked apart and scrutinized for it, thank you very much.

If you're affiliated with a church and you're having a wonderful experience, then I'm very happy for you and I hope that some day, I will find that place in my own life. I have no doubt that when my children become adults, they too will find their own place in the religious organizations and make their home somewhere that suits them.

I've just decided to give them a foundation and allow them to build their own house.

We'll leave it at that.

There's been more discussion at my house about me getting a job.
I really feel like the time has arrived. There is, however, one small issue that prevents me from going out there and applying.
I NEED to go home to Maine every year.
It's not even a matter of want...I NEED to. In order to keep my sanity, I have to go. I need to see my Nana...my brother and his family...my aunt, my cousins, my mother...etc...
I spend the entire year feeling at odds, even after living down here for 15 years, and I replenish my spirit the two weeks I'm there.

I go up there feeling empty...washed out and transparent.
I come home, full again...colorful and solid.

I just NEED it. I can't explain it. You would know what I mean if you were living away from the place who made you who you are. Then you'd know.

Tonight I have to run a few errands and bring some paperwork around to people. Then I think I shall come home and read. I have a stack of books I've been meaning to get to and I finally finished the four I was reading. It seems like I hadn't been stuck in the car as often as I normally am, or maybe it's just that I was on the phone while I was waiting. Anyway, it took me several weeks to finish them all and now I can begin with a few new books.
For what it's worth, I need to read too. It makes me feel like I can still think...and believe me...there are days when I feel like my brain is mush. Reading keeps my mind alive I suppose.

Today's word will be, "can".
Yep...just plain old "can". The kids are off from school this week and they're asking if they "can" do this or if they "can" do that...blah blah blah...
Right now Veggie Stick is so pissed off at me she's cleaning her room. THAT NEVER happens so annoying her with the word of the day not only prevented her from asking me if she could so the same thing over and over again, even after I said no fifty times, it also motivated her to clean the mess I'd asked her to clean for the last few months.

I just love having a word of the day sometimes...



I need to get over to the ball field soon, so that's all I have for you today. This was a little late getting started but I needed to get my responsibilities in order first. When I get home, before I start my book, I'm going to have a Samuel Adams Pale Ale or two and read my blog roll. Really, you should check that out. They're all quite talented and very enjoyable. I hate missing a day of reading them.

With that said, here is my mood today...



Need I say more?

Have a nice "hump evening" and I'll be back tomorrow...

Elderly Hell Dreams and the Bionic Woman....

I had this incredible dream last night.
I was being chased by a mob, right down the middle of Dunbar Avenue. It was no ordinary mob though....it was a mob consisting of old women. They were ambling along with walkers and canes, carrying their purses of death. A few were using their oxygen as flame throwers and were being helped by the ones in their scooters.



The whole thing was pretty damn scary.
Yeah...Yeah...I know. Old women are not frightening you say. Of course you haven't been subjected to them the way I have. And believe me, they don't like me. I have been abused many times at the hands of old women. I've been hit by their huge cars and run into by their shopping carts. I've been sneered at, snorted at and sniffed at. I have had the purse of death blow to the head or, depending on the height of the old lady in question, a blow to the lower back, which is deadlier and hurts more.
They've tricked me with their little old lady sweetness so I've offered to help and reached up to a higher shelf for them, only to have them ram into my shin with their cart after I've retrieved the item they couldn't reach.

Yes...old women are scary and they frighten me. They just don't like me...well the majority of them don't like me. So I avoid them at all cost. There is no shopping on Elderly Hell Days, like today. It's saved me from a lot of injury let me tell ya.

Last nights dream was scary...VERY SCARY....

Anyway...I need to change the subject or I'll have the creeps all day long.

What was your favorite toy when you were a kid?
I had several favorites.
When I was younger my little brother and I would play with our Fisher Price Little People.



Yeah...they were the older,"if-you-put-this-in-your-mouth-you-could-choke-to-death" version of Little People. And we didn't choke to death. In fact, if you look at all the toys that have been outlawed or revamped because they posed a choking hazard or were responsible for a death, it makes me wonder how many kids of my generation actually died in the seventies. There has to be a significant number to have caused this widespread panic and eventual elimination of some of my favorite childhood toys...

Little People were the SHIT I'm telling you...



We spent HOURS playing with them...



I wasn't even annoyed that all of my brother's farm animals barked. We could entertain ourselves for hours...and in northern Maine when the winter snow is keeping you inside, that's a good thing.

Another one of my favorite toys was the Bionic Woman.



My brother had the Bionic Man and I had her. We played for hours with them too. Everything was great too until my mother bought me that stupid Farrah Fawcett doll that was so popular...



I thought the damn doll was fugly. Jamie Sommers used to kick her ass I'm telling you. Good times...good times...

While I wasn't much of a dolly person there was one doll that I loved and adored. In fact, I still have her. It's Baby Crissy. Here's a picture of me holding her...



Yeah I look high but they didn't realize the effects that second hand smoke had on you then and my mother was somewhat of a hippie...free love, glass bongs and acid trips...etc...

ANYWAY...Baby Crissy was the love of my life. I can't tell you how old I was before I actually stopped sleeping with her. I was still a virgin so it wasn't that old..maybe 20 0r 21....HAHAHAHA...SHUT UP!!! I know what you're thinking...

I kind of gave up on the toy scene as soon as I realized what sports were. I would ride my bike all over creation to play baseball, soccer, basketball, touch football, hockey, LaCrosse, frisbee or just ride bikes over dirt piles and skin the hide off my body.



I became a tomboy and then the dolls were put away.
But it was all good. I had loads of fun and learned that even if you skin all the hide off your body, it grows back...LOL.

Mr.Man talks about his dad giving them M-80's when he was a kid. Then telling him and his brother, "Don't blow your fingers off," and letting them go. I could tell you a few of the stories he's told me about him and his brother and their explosives, but I don't know what the statute of limitations is and I wouldn't want to get anyone in trouble.

We used to play guns too. We'd use our fingers or old sticks that kind of looked like a gun and then we'd hunt each other down and shoot. BANG BANG! You're dead Ray Ray! Of course Ray Ray would run off and I'd be screaming "CHEATER" which would allow Russell to find me and kill me. Then I'd find Ray Ray and kick his ass for getting me killed. Man...what fun!
You just don't see kids playing games like that anymore. In fact, the last time my kids tried to play spotlight, the Elderly Hell patrol called the police and they put a stop to that nonsense. TWO police cars responded...TWO..and the kids were sent home. It was barely nine in the evening and the curfew on the weekends is 11. I was very irritated...especially since the kids weren't in anyone's yards.



Damned Elderly Hell patrol...

I think the word of the day for today will be "old". I'm thinking that between the old Elderly Hell Day bats out there vying for the right to maim or injure me and the trip down memory lane, "old" could be a fun word of the day. I can't help but love the look on people's faces when the word of the day pops out of their mouth and I begin clapping my hands and yelling and laughing.
It gets me a second look I'm telling you. For those of you looking for a conversation breaker, there's nothing that will get you a reaction faster than a word of the day. you might even meet that someone "special" by using it.

With all that said...here is my mood for today...



I feel hyper. It's probably the only thing that will help get me through this week. There is no school and the kids are restless. They don't do anything to entertain themselves either...not like we used to. I'm trying not to kill them and/or lay around drunk all week.

TRYING..is the key word here...mmmmkay?

I'll be back tomorrow...

So tell me this....

When we were having breakfast yesterday morning, Veggie Stick refused to eat eggs, along with the bacon and gravy made from it.
I don't have a problem with that and support her decision to be a vegetarian. But we did get on the discussion of the difference between vegetarians and vegans. To make things simple, I'll just post the definitions Veggie Stick found online...

Vegetarianism is the practice of living on products of the plant kingdom, with or without the use of eggs and dairy products, but excluding entirely the consumption of any part of the body of an animal as food (including chicken, fish and seafood).

Veganism is a way of living on the products of the plant kingdom to the exclusion of all products from the animal kingdom. A vegan is a total vegetarian who consumes no animal by-products.
Vegans go even further by avoiding both animal derivatives and animal-tested products in their whole lifestyle. This means an avoidance of meat, milk, eggs, butter etc., as well as leather, wool, cosmetics, soaps and shampoos derived from animal ingredients or tested on animals.

I respect and admire anyone who chooses a lifestyle based on their conscience. I really do...but because I am the sick individual I am, I have a question about being a Vegan.

Do Vegans spit or swallow?
Ok...before you condemn me for that question...it's a valid question. I mean really it is. Sperm is actually a living thing so....????

I went on line and found a lot of different forums for this topic. Some vegans actually argued that it's not wrong because their personal belief is based on not harming animals.

HUH?

Are we not animals?
I'm not a vegetable or a mineral...although there are days I feel like a vegetable or a mineral...

It's just one of those bizarre questions that pop into my head...



To spit or not to spit...that is the question...so does anyone have an answer?


Anyway,I'm going to leave you with that question and this poem today.
I'm a HUGE lover of poetry. I have TONS of poetry books...some are famous poets with awards and well known poems published thousands of times over...and some are the lesser known poets who have done nothing more sensational than touched something deep inside me.
Every book is still a treasure to me.
I head to the poetry section in every book store before I go anywhere else. I'm the woman sitting on the floor, immersed in a book of poetry...impervious to the world around me.

Betcha didn't know that about me, did ya?

This is my mood for today... and this poem explains it so very well...

Before Sleep by Catherine Anderson

I was in love with anatomy
the symmetry of my body
poised for flight,
the heights it would take
over parents, lovers, a keen
riding over truth and detail.
I thought growing up would be
this rising from everything
old and earthly,
not these faltering steps out the door
every day, then back again.



We all have days where we feel slightly disillusioned about our lives don't we? One thing I have learned is that the fantasy is always better than the reality. If only we could find a compromise and stay in that place....*sigh*

See ya tomorrow...

The King of the Ding-A-ling

I have read a lot of articles in my time.
Most times they are informative or amusing. Some are downright stupid or boring. I read them anyway, hoping that it will broaden my way of thinking...or at the very least, give me something to make fun of later when I'm bored.
Then there are surveys.
Surveys are an entity in themselves. They are both interesting and informative because they are not manufactured by one person's opinion. There is input from a broad spectrum of people and sometimes there is even one answer or two that would have been YOUR answer.
So I like surveys. They're fun. I'm all about fun. Serious is not part of my chosen vocabulary and I try to avoid it at all costs....
One survey I read that stands out in particular is one from Cosmo. They survey asked women questions about their sex life.
It was interesting to see the different answers to common questions and some of the excerpts from the readers who'd responded to the survey.
In this survey one of the questions was, "How you do you know your man wants to have sex?"
Hmm.....How does a woman know when their man wants to have sex?
A percentage of women said their men would give them a "special look" and that's how they knew they wanted to have sex.
Of course there was no description or illustration to describe what the "special look" actually looked like.
Does the "special I-want-to-have-sex-with-you look" look like this?



Cause I'm thinking that most guys I KNOW usually have THIS look on their faces when they want to have sex...or think there's a chance they're going to get it...



Tell me I'm lying....This IS how they look,right? Grateful....Excited...Amazed...yeah...it's this look. This is the "special look" their men was giving them. I'm certain of it.I've seen this look before.

There was another percentage of women who said their men would give them a "special kiss" when they wanted sex.
Ok...the "special kiss"...heh heh heh....
I'm guessing that most people read that and this picture popped into their heads...



When I saw that answer THIS image popped into my head....I mean they did say "special kiss" right?



Hey! When you sign a card or something the X's are always kisses....
I'm just saying...

Yet another percentage of women said their men just came right out and asked for sex. This, apparently, is how they knew they wanted to have sex. I suppose I could have pictured them asking like this...



But we all know the truth is more like this, don't we?



Well....except at my house. At my house it's more like this...



And then of course came the answer that I would have sent in. It was a very small percentage of women that had the courage to answer truthfully. In fact I think it was less than ten women out of hundreds that gave the same answer I would have.

Question: "How you do you know your man wants to have sex?"

Answer: "He shows me his erection."

That's right folks...he whips it out and shows it to me. Laugh all you want...it's true. I see the signals very plainly in fact and have no doubt in my mind when Mr.Man wants sex.

The tent goes up...



Then the weapon of choice comes out...



Yep...true stuff.
It's comforting to know there are other women out there who go through the same thing I do. Not all of us are romanced I guess and it makes me feel a little less deprived...

The word for today will be "stapler". I have been sitting here attempting to write this for well over two hours. It's not because I didn't have anything to write about or that I had to keep editing things....it's because I have been interrupted five hundred times to hand Mr.Man the stapler. Without the interruptions I would have been finished in less than thirty minutes. So...one more request for the damn stapler and I'm going ape shit. I've got paperwork to take care of and I want to get it done.

Yesterday I got to spend most of my day with Randy and Mark. Little Beatle is in an activity with Randy's son and we were recruited to lug and tug things to help out with it. In spite of the hard work, it was loads of fun and I got a free lunch out of it. Randy took us to Cold Spot and bought us lunch. Wings and Onion rings...fart fuel for the fabulous.
Anyway, we made plans to have a drinking party, which I am looking forward to, and I discovered that I am much more comfortable hanging out with guys, eating wings and talking about guy stuff than I am hanging out with girls, talking about girl stuff. This is proof that the male hormones are winning and the female ones are slowly disintegrating from my body.

With that said this is my mood for today....

When I found this clip I couldn't believe how perfectly it fit my mood for today...



Sometimes I feel a little hyper...and crazy and wild...plus there was even the lip thing I do sometimes when I'm alone in the car. Remember the Japanese guy who gave me the finger when I was on the interstate? Yeah...I still haven't figured out if that's an obscene gesture in Japan or not.

Does anyone know? Maybe it's just me...I'm an obscene gesture...*shrugs*

Whatever....

I'm a cleaning muthafecker.....

I cleaned yesterday like my life depended on it. In between the sobbing and feeling like a dumbass, I actually got something accomplished.
That's bad...
It's bad because I made a clean spot in a couple of places and now I need to continue. So....this means today after helping with Little Beatle's activities, I will be tackling another part of my house and cleaning it up.

How's my house look right now, you ask?

Part of it looks like this...



Messy! Messy! Messy! Complete with the yellow cat in the middle of it too...

BUT...there is part of my house where you can see the floor now and walk freely through out without injury or fear of attack...



Notice the clean floor? Of course the cartoon in itself it HILARIOUS so I figured it could serve to entertain me AND illustrate the clean floor.

I've never really been much of a cleaner. I spent most of my time outdoors as a child and being a tomboy normally didn't involve fussing with make-up, hair or being overly concerned about a clean room.
I spent my time riding bikes, snow mobiles, playing sports and rough-housing with the boys.When I did actually put in some domestic time, it was normally forced on me or done because I was getting paid to do it.If I had to choose between working outside on the farm on cleaning, I'd choose the farm work.
Except for cooking.
The first time I cooked something with my great-grandmother I was in heaven. I loved the savory smells, the sound of things frying and boiling and baking...the way bread dough felt beneath my hands...kneading...pounding...it was wonderful and I was hooked!
So...housekeeping isn't one of my best assets, but I can cook and I do cook...a lot. We go out to eat at a sit down restaurant maybe three or four times a year.
Feeding our faces is always a priority...cleaning? Maybe not so much a priority. I do have to have a clean kitchen to cook in. The dining room table has to be cleared off so we can eat dinner together. The bathroom has to be clean...most of the time anyway...but the bedrooms? I shut the doors. Can't see the floor? Oh well...who cares as long as the bed is cleared off?
I've got some projects stacked up in corners of the dining room and we have a few too many magazines and books, but we're readers...all of us. Everyone in my house has a book they're reading right now. How many kids do you know who actually want to read anymore?
So...a clean house isn't always a priority. Besides...you know what they say about a clean house....



Today's word will be "dishes". I plan to attack Veggie Stick and Miss KIA with it as soon as they get home. Both of them want money to go out this weekend and neither one of them will get any unless they do chores. So this means that they will begin to argue about which one will wash dishes as soon as they get home. I will scream and yell and act accordingly every time they say the word of the day..."dishes".
They will be forced to stop arguing about it because they'll be too busy finding creative ways to describe "dishes" using other words. For example...It's your turn to wash the vessels that food is eaten from. I did it last time!This should lower the volume and angst and allow them to come to a civil solution.



Yes...I know I am a genius. Don't bow..it's not necessary.I do what I need to because I have two teen-aged daughters.

Yesterday sucked. But sometimes it's those sucky days that come blasting into you life, leaving you full of emotional shrapnel that gives you new determination and resolve to change things.
I still feel pretty upset about it today, but I'm not crying and I'm feeling more calm and accepting of things.

It is what it is. To want more is asinine and it's not going to happen. Like I said, I make it impossible for someone to love me because I make it too easy for them to use me.
I understand what drives me to allow people to walk all over me...ESPECIALLY the people I love. It's left over residue from my childhood.I'll leave it at that. I don't particularly care to share anymore about it, so let's move on shall we?

Have you ever done anything crazy when you've been upset over a love interest or spouse? I'm talking about stuff like...driving like a madman or redialing a busy number a hundred times or beating your chest..(which I did yesterday (I looked like King Kong) while crying and yelling COLD BASTARD over and over again)...pretty funny stuff today but terribly pathetic yesterday...hahahaha...

So dish...tell me a few of the craziest things you've ever done! Surely to god I'm not the only psycho out there. SOME ONE has had to have done at least one of the crazy things I mentioned or worse.

With that said...here is my mood today...



I'm sore...all over. I think it's left over from yesterday and I'll leave it at that. I really have no desire to allow a man to make me feel that bad about myself again...or that INSANE. Why does he make me feel so INSANE!!!

Please!!! Share your crazy stories!!! I need to know I'm not the only nut job in the universe!!! Some one at some time must have made you so upset you've temporarily lost your mind!!!

Men are from the Devil...that is all...have a great day.