Crap that annoys me

I'm cranky today, and here's why. I know you care.

1. The upcoming shit storm over Obama's Supreme Court nominee. No matter who he nominates it's going to be everywhere ad nauseum, and we'll be subjected to yet more crapola obstruction from the GOP.

2. This ongoing financial crisis. It's been 3 stinkin years of Johnny C's underemployment, and my hours being cut. Would someone just FIX this already and get all these Americans who really and truly want to work, BACK to work? And I don't mean minimum wage jobs.

3. Teenage girls - 'nuff said.

4. The rust spots on the van. Get this - I got an estimate for trying to arrest those two 5-square-inches of rust on the fenders and the body shop wanted $2500!! Yes, that's two thousand five hundred dollars. The van's not even worth that much. So I'll continue to drive the white trash limo rust and all.

5. The nail in the van tire. Yeah, that too.

6. The phone. It rings all the time and it's usually telemarketers.

7. Gas prices. Anybody with 2 brain cells knows this is all about oil company profits prior to Americans going for Hybrids. They know oil is on the way out, and they are going to soak us while the soaking is still good.

8. Teabaggers. Idiots.

9. Tonight is the return of GLEE and I have to go to a meeting.

Maybe tomorrow I'll return to my usual grateful nature. But today I feel like blowing something up, or getting into a bar fight.

Because sometimes you just need to bitch

New things and old things that make me cranky. I can't be positive ALL the time.

1. 107.1 FM has let Kevyn Burger go for no apparent reason. This is the woman who invited me on her show and let me do my silly ranting and raving. She's an exceptional woman and I can't even begin to understand this decision.

2. Breast Cancer sucks. A friend has been diagnosed with Inflammatory Breast Cancer. In the breast cancer world, IBC is a most horrid demon. She has 3 kids from about 7 to 15. She's a tough woman, and if anyone can fight this beast she can. But pray/think/send love for her anyway.

3. Snow and cold in October. A friend's blog sums it up best.

4. Moving. The house is ripped up, boxes everywhere, nothing looks or feels cozy.

5. Why can't kids put their dishes IN the dishwasher?

6. Why must my teens spread their homework, sweatshirts, etc. all over the couch AND the kitchen chairs?

7. Johnny C and I are just bugging the living bejeebus out of each other. I'm sure it's the stress.

8. Because of the move, I'm not decorating the front porch for Halloween - and I just LOVE Halloween!! Maybe I should just do it anyway.

9. Nothing over the counter can stop the congestion in my head and ears. I'm ready for some street drugs - whaddya got?

10. The GOP has stripped away all pretense of Compassion and is doing the full-court mean. At least the beast is finally unveiled. They just really hate the poor, women, blacks, hispanics, the sick, etc. don't they? Must take a lot of energy to keep all that hate aflame.

What the Hey?

Do you believe that the Universe, or God, or the Source, or the Goddess puts you where you need to be? I've always kind of believed this, but someone's just MESSIN with me!!!

We've had what feels like 100 housing choices come across our path, only to fall apart or become unavailable.

So Dear Universe, if you have the right place in mind than please just QUIT throwing all the other options at me too. I'm just getting confused and overwhelmed and pessimistic. And quit toying with my hopes. Don't let me get all excited and start imagining my furniture in there, then give it to someone else. What did I ever do to you?

It's hard to wait

I've been wringing every last shred of patience and wisdom from my body. I'm down to a cellular level now, and supplies are running thin. I was such a trooper when my folks died, then when I had breast cancer, but I'm really running low on trooper juice. Maybe if I search the net I can find a supplier.

My intuition and experience tell me to wait, be patient, "change the things I can; accept the things I cannot change: and hope I have the wisdom to know the difference". One of my favorite books The Prophet, by Kahlil Gibran speaks of watching the seasons of our life and being content with grief and sadness, much like we would accept the snow on our fields.

Well, yada, yada, yada, blah, blah, blah today I just plain feel angry, tired, and discouraged. Life right now is NOT how we planned it. I would just go to bed, but I know that I'll wake up at some ungodly hour in a state of panic, drenched in sweat, and fighting those horrid demons that interrupt rest with needless worry and overactive brain stimuli. But that's why the sun rises each morning, isn't it? To bring yet another day filled with chance, risk, opportunity, and miracles. Ok, I'll take the risk.


Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.
And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.
Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquility:
For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.

I need a better alarm clock

I need a better alarm clock. One that, after the 6th or 7th time I hit the snooze, will scream "REALLY! I am NOT KIDDING! Time to get your lazy ass OUT of BED!!!"

You see, I'm blind as a bat and hate getting out of bed, so I don't really notice the time - I just give the thing another wallop and hit the pillow.

And why do I find the most comfortable sleeping position in the entire history of mattresses just after the first snooze slam? Why couldn't I be that comfortable at 11pm the night before?

Movie plots that just need to retire . . . . . now!

This has NOTHING to do with Christmas. I just needed to do some bitchin!

1. The cop/detective who works outside the rules, and is constantly thwarted by his misunderstanding boss, who is usually black and yells a lot. Still the renegade hero manages to bring in the crook and save the dame. The hero cop wears jeans and denim shirts while the strict bumbling by-the-book guys wear shirts and ties, and awkwardly catch things the radical hero suddenly tosses at them.

2. The adorable child with a disability who is teased and mocked by the entire ignorant world including all educators, classmates, doctors, and fellow bus riders. Only by diligent threats and fits from his/her mother does the entire world finally understand and feel massive guilt.

3. The lonely old hermit who lives on the edge of town, nursing a secret grief. An angelic determined child befriends him, wears him down, and invites him to Christmas Eve dinner. The child's parents are slender, attractive and poor. Mom is a knockout with a great haircut but wears thin cardigans and house dresses no one has seen since the 30's. Dad looks like a model, and says lovely supportive things to his equally-model-beautiful wife about getting more hours down at the mill. The last shot is a pan-out through the kitchen window, to a gentle snowfall.

4. The new girl at school is derided by the clique of mean girls. New Girl has a funky artistic loving Mom, raising her on her own since Dad died/left/ remarried. The mean girls have fabulous hair and bodies, and the other kids part their way while they saunter down the school halls. They do a lot of eye rolling and that weird head thing, and they play nasty tricks on New Girl in gym class. New Girl teaches them a lesson through her exceptional skills in ice skating/dancing/cheerleading/gymnastics and they finally see the error of their wicked ways. Leading Hunk is dating the head mean girl but begins to see how shallow she is when New Girl moves in. The movie ends with Leading Hunk kissing New Girl.

5. Any movie with two actors in comedic danger situations looking straight at each other and simultaneously yelling AAAAARRRRRHHH,
stopping, looking straight ahead and again simultaneously yelling AAAAARRRRRHHH.

Fiscal Conservatives My Butt

I'm reading with great glee how the GOP is now throwing Sarah Palin under the bus and washing their hands of her. "Wardrobe-gate" is turning into a whole lot of fun. She ran up well over $150,000 in clothing including silk boxers for Todd and $22,000 in hair and make-up. OK, so she's trailer trash and THEY gave her a credit card. I have no sympathy.

Here's where it gets really good though, and all of America ought to pay attention. The RNC is saying they in no way authorized that kind of lavish spending, but instead instructed her to buy about 6 suits and a modest budget of about $25,000.

$25,000 for six suits?? America! That's over $4,000 per suit!!

The GOP is trying to sell itself as the party of Joe Sixpack and hockey moms. Hello? Joe? Hockey Moms? Any of you spend $4G's on a suit lately? EVER?! I didn't think so. Pay very close attention to this fact America - the GOP has absolutely no clue about your financial reality.

$4,000 for a suit is NOT fiscally conservative. It's obscene.

Who does get my sympathy? The "charity" that ends up with Todd Palin's underpants.

Disturbing the comfortable

I'm no prude, and I completely understand that men can't get enough T&A on a daily basis.

But does anyone else find bikini-clad cheerleaders at the Olympic beach volleyball games just a bit disturbing?? Venice Beach volleyball OK, but the Olympics?

And can't the women players wear more clothing? That last game in the rain just seemed like one long porno flick. All due respect to the athletes but running shorts and a tank top wouldn't hurt your image.

More things to ponder

1. What are the callouses on my feet made from?! Titanium?! Next step is the belt sander.

2. How can a man who was tortured as a POW support torturing POW's?

3. What is that old person smell anyway?

4. Why does chocolate give me heartburn? Why can't green beans give me heartburn?

5. Why is it that my most expensive hanging basket of flowers is the first to give up the ghost?

6. Why can't I cook anything without making such a #&#^$ mess?

7. Why, when I say "put it in the refrigerator" does my husband hear "freezer"?

8. Why do I keep waking up at night?

9. What's the point of that one annoying bead of sweat that runs smack down the middle of your back? I'm ready to install a sweat band there.

10. Why can't my kids put their dirty dishes INSIDE the mostly empty dishwasher?

11. Why does my office smell of dog poo?

12. Why do I bother with makeup when it's 95 degrees outside?

13. What did I ever do to warrant such amazing friends?

14. Would my house be cleaner if I stopped blogging?

I Support Gay Marriage

Let me go on record, right here, right now. I totally support the rights of our fellow GLBT Americans to fully enjoy all the rights and responsibilities of legal marriage. As a heterosexual woman married to the same wonderful man for over 17 years, let me state that my marriage is not adversely affected in the slightest bit by gay couples. If anything, it upholds the idea of commitment, family, and loads of other "traditional family values". I'm just sick to death of this argument. Against gay marriage? Well enough, get over it already. Put on your big kid panties and deal with it. Go feed some hungry children or sling hash at a homeless shelter. Put your whiny energy to use somewhere.

Crazy Busy

I'm still here! But with three jobs, a soccer team to manage, and my mommy duties I've been scary busy for the past two weeks. Like my favorite line in Steel Magnolias - "I don't know whether to scratch my watch or wind my butt!". But I've resigned from the soccer team, and will be resigning my little part time job. Then I can devote all my energy to my WONDERFUL new job and my kids. But for now, stress is my middle name.

The worst part of our financial crisis is this: my husband and I are snapping at each other. Normally we have a wonderful marriage but lately the strain is showing and we're arguing more. I hate this more than you can imagine. Any suggestions are welcome.

I'm truly beginning to see what the neocons have been plotting for years - and I'm totally serious. I think they WANT to squeeze out the middle class. None of us will quit working for the man. They won't quit raking in the dough. But the difference is that those of us who USED TO BE in the middle class will be so stressed paying for gas, food, medical care, housing, etc that we won't have time or energy to fight THEM. I'm seeing it happen in my own life - I barely have time or money to buy groceries let alone phone my congress rep or take part in a protest.

More bullsh$t about gas prices

Our good friend MG turned me on to this video from the Colbert Report. Damn funny, and really, really sad.

PU!!! Spring in the Midwest

Today was drop-dead gorgeous. Temps in the 70's, plenty of sunshine, and a perfect breeze. I did some overdue yard work and ate my lunch on the screened porch.

All was perfect until the farmers to the south started spreading manure in their fields about 4pm. If you've never lived in the Midwest, you've never quite endured such a loathsome aroma. The air outside now smells like a giant dirty litter box. I had to shut every window before we became ill. Thank The Gods of Agriculture this happens only once a year. We WERE going to have burgers on the porch, but now it'll be inside. Ironic - eating burgers while being chased inside by cow dung.

We're supposed to see some severe weather the next few days including cold temps, rain, wind, thunder, lightning, and perhaps *gasp* SNOW!

Getting Old Ain't For Sissies

Have I ever mentioned I get heartburn? Only about five time you say? Well here is #6. Seems the older I get the longer the list of forbidden foods. I sound just like my Dad.

Last night I made a batch of Heavenly Sauce - a decadent chocolate sauce that is KILLER over ice cream. We only make it about once a year - no kidding - because it's that rich. As a kid I'd eat two bowls with minimal ice cream and maximum Heavenly Sauce. Ice cream is merely a vehicle for the toppings in my opinion.

Suffice it to say I was up all night with crazy-bad heartburn and finished off my bottle of nasty chalky Mylanta. So now Heavenly Sauce is banished to the nether regions of gastronomic Hell along with most other things chocolate, red licorice, cucumbers, watermelon, onions, fresh garlic, etc. So I give you the recipe so that the magic of Heavenly Sauce can live on elsewhere.


HEAVENLY SAUCE
In a double boiler, melt 2 sticks of butter with 4ozs good quality unsweetened chocolate.
When thoroughly melted, stir in 3 cups of sugar
Slowly add, while stirring, a can of evaporated milk and a pinch of salt
Keep stirring until all the sugar is dissolved.
Keep in a glass container in the frig - we always used a Miracle Whip jar.

How Come?

Often, I ponder. . . . .

1. How come the ranch dressing in restaurants tastes so much better than anything I can get at the grocery store?

2. Why does red licorice give me heartburn?

3. Why can't my family see the stuff piled up on the stairs?

4. Why does everything at the Minnesota State Fair cost $20?


5. Why am I always at the 4-way stop with the teenager who doesn't understand 4-way stops?

6. Why do I always ruin every nice shirt with one little spot of olive oil?

7. Why doesn't the government provide grants for kids' sports equipment and fees?

8. How come missing just one freakin day of flossing, and my gums go to pot?

9. Why does everyone eat in the living room, when the rule is NO eating in the living room?

10. How come American actors are drop dead beautiful while British actors are just so-so? For the record, I prefer the British ones - they're funnier.

11. I'm 46, and still have acne and oily skin. At what age, exactly, will I "grow out of it"?

12. When will Spring get here?

My Life as a Sitcom

Ever take a step back and realize your life is like a comedy, but without the laugh track? So I just provide an internal laugh track and chuckle my way through.

1. The CD/Radio in my van is stuck ON. There is no way on God's Green Earth I can turn that sucker off short of ripping it out of the dashboard. And the volume control has gone down too, so it's just loud enough to be annoying but not loud enough to actually HEAR what's being said. And we don't have the money right now to fix or replace it. I've discovered that if I put in a blank CD, at least it's silent.

2. Half of the dashboard lights in the same van have gone down. Think there's a connection? But I can still see most of the speedometer. And we've decided a pen light duct taped to the steering column will do when the whole enchilada breaks. No way will we pay someone to tear out the dashboard for diagnostics on a van with 130,000 miles on it.

3. One of my twins has become like the Tide stain commercial. I'm trying to tell her something and she's interrupting because she's 14 and therefore knows it ALL. Then 3 minutes later she's asking "when are we leaving?", "how do I do this?", and the whirlpool starts again.

4. Today I put in my first contact lens at exactly the same moment an undried soap bubble entered my eye socket. Much cursing ensued.

5. We own three cats, and I'm a dog person. And lately a stray has been hanging around who looks like Mao Tse Tung, so we call him Chairman Mao and the kids hiss at him.

SLAP on the forehead

My kids have the uncanny ability to suck me into activities I just KNOW I'll regret in some way.

Today for instance.

I'm returning to the land of the living after a nasty cold, the sun is shining, and the temps are rather pleasant. My older kids and the 8-year-old BEG me to take them hiking at the Carleton College Arboretum. It's one of my all-time-favorites haunts so I'm happy to oblige.

First we drive north of town to my personal favorite Arb entrance. But alas it's still too icy - about 10 feet in we realized we wouldn't be coming out without a broken wrist or twisted ankle. So we drive back to town to the common entrance with it's nicely paved path. During this entire car trip the kids are fighting over literally everything - dog poop, whether or not the neighbor girl can be called "calm", how to pronounce Arboretum, god help me EVERYTHING! Perhaps I should have driven back home, but such was my mania to get outside and breathe air that wasn't tainted with cold germs and other people's recent exhalations.

The older kids walked well ahead - that's fine - I understand their need to distance themselves from a Mom who dares to wear layers and a HAT for god's sake. I also had on mismatched gloves which just enhanced my eccentric appearance and inflated the embarrassing Mom factor.

The 8-year-old bounded up the path with zeal, and of course stopping every five feet to examine something. I know this form of nature observance has it's merits but I just wanted to MOVE. She pleaded to wander up the earthen paths but I stated "no, it's too muddy, it'll tear up the paths and we don't have waterproof boots on and you'll be miserable" and blah blah blah blather blather blather. She threw caution to the wind and headed up the muddy inclines.

Within 10 minutes can you guess what I was hearing in a miserable whiny voice?
"My boots are muddy!"
"These boots are letting the water in!"
"I'm hungry!" (I offered lunch earlier, she refused)
"My legs are sooooooo tired!"
"If Daddy were here, he'd carry me!"

It was a very, very loooooonnngggg walk back to the car. Somethings just can't be thoroughly enjoyed by adults with kids in tow. And somehow I always forget this, and keep taking them on outings that make me want to drink heavily within an hour. Like our train trip to downtown Minneapolis last summer. But this is what good mothers do, right? RIGHT??!??!?!?!

One good paying job

We're having big money trouble here, and my current part time job isn't exactly raking in the dough. But our kids still need a parent around after school and on weekends so they don't start doing heroin like every other kid in Northfield. (read the link, it's good, and no the kids in Northfield aren't on heroin!).

Anyway, I need a lucrative job that will allow me to be around when the kids are home but still cover all the bills. So I'm considering becoming a phone sex operator. I've got a lower register husky voice and I know lots of dirty words. But still I wonder . . . .

Hello?

Hey, I want some phone sex.

Hmmmm, ok, what are you wearing?

Nothing, I'm just sitting here talking to you.

WHAT? Are you sitting on the good furniture in your all-together? Don't you have any sense? Go get a towel or something!

Huh????

Never mind, so where were we? Oh yeah, you want to talk dirty to me?

Yeah, baby. Are you a hot b*&%h?

WHAT?? We do NOT use that word in my house!!! That is a woman-hating word and I won't stand for it, am I clear young man???

Hey! I'm not paying to hear my Mom! I just want some phone sex!

Right, sorry, so what do you want to hear?

Some moaning

Moooooaaaaaan! MOOOOOOAAAAAAANN! URGGGHHHH! ARGGHGHHHHG

Oh yeah that's good

No! It's not!! I just stubbed my toe on the vacuum cleaner. I told my husband a thousand times to put it away but NOOOO!

This is NOT going to get me off!

Isn't that just like a man? Everything has to be about YOUR PENIS doesn't it?

That's it! I'm hanging up!

Good! Now go do something useful like the laundry, and pick up your own dirty socks from now on. Moron!

I'm a slug

I'm having major sleep issues - as in I'm not sleeping at night but can't stay awake for sex, love, or money during the day. It's 11:45pm right now and I'm wide awake. Caffeine you ask? No, I usually abstain.

I personally think it's because just TRYING to sleep has become an exercise in futility. For one thing, I'm 46 and have reached that famous stage of perimenopause that's marked by night sweats. I'll wake up drenched with wrinkly fingers like I've been in the tub. Then I have to swear and change my pjs. Yes swearing is encouraged during night sweats - it chases away the demons of actual menopause.

The other factor is my husband snores like a band saw. He has about 11 different snoring patterns that I've identified and he'll alternate those sequences in random order. Just enough to make me actually consider the advantages of getting a full night's sleep in the big house after I suffocate him with our down comforter. When we first married, all I had to do was lightly touch him with my sweet newlywed hand and he would stop. Now I could drive the minivan into his side of the bed and I doubt he'd even flinch.

The 3rd factor is children. Seems that my husband not only CANNOT SEE clutter around the house, he also CANNOT HEAR the children at night. So if any child is sleep walking, sleep talking, or puking in their toilet which is about 13 feet from our bed, it's Mom to the rescue. You Moms know what I mean - they scream in the night and I'm half way to their room before I've even left REM sleep. It doesn't even interrupt his current snore pattern. And if they have a bad dream, don't you just KNOW who's side of the bed they arrive at. Let me tell you, until you've been awakened from a deep sleep by the sudden appearance of a severely freaked out child in the dead of night, you just haven't lived. For the first few seconds I'm just trying to remember whether I even HAVE kids.

Now don't get me wrong, my hubby is a wonderful man who will gladly do his part to return a wandering child to their bed. But he has to be awake first. This will take so much punching and prodding from me that by the time he's conscious enough to sit up, I've pulled a muscle and have to change my pjs again. I've always said that if we had an intruder he'd be absolutely no help at all. I'd have the criminal tied up with coaxial cable while the kids beat him with kitchen utensils before my husband opened one eye. In a housefire, the firefighters would be dragging him out by the heels and he'd still be snoring.

But the next day I'm a complete slug. As soon as the kids are off the school, if I'm not working that day, I hit the couch and go comatose until 10am. When I come home from work, my bed calls like a siren on the cliffs.

Guess I'll just sleep when I'm dead.

The barrette that rankled my marriage

The following is a true story.

As the Mom in the house, I'm sick and tired of being the only family member that can actually SEE and ACT ON all the crap laying around. What is wrong with the eyesight in my husband and children?? My barrette story is a perfect illustration.

My hubby and I share a bathroom, but our daughters often invade and leave their flotsam behind. And I'm always the one to return it to their bathroom or bedroom. Sometime in February, I noticed a barrette, like the one pictured, on our bathroom floor. As I was reaching for it, something in me just snapped. I thought, "I'm NOT picking up that G.D. barrette. Let HIM notice this stuff for once and deal with it! They are HIS kids too. HE knows where their bathroom is!".

So for many weeks, that barrette just SAT there, in plain sight, just gathering dust and hair and all the other gross stuff on a bathroom floor. Oh, and I might add that since I started working more, he offered to keep our bathroom clean as his sole responsibility. His standard of clean is from another planet, but that's another blog altogether.

Anyway, for weeks I stared at that crusty barrette and fumed. So one day 2 weeks ago I picked it up and put it on his sink. It sat there for another week. Then 4 days ago, you know where I found it?? ON MY SINK!!!!!

What is wrong with you men? I didn't get any specialized training in picking up after the kids! Just use your common sense for cryin out loud! Can anybody explain this to me? My friend Mary says evidently you have to have an old uterus to notice things like piles of your own crap on the stairs, and that the toilet paper needs replacing. And no, replacing the toilet paper doesn't mean perching the new roll on top of the empty roll.

And the girls' hair things go in their bathroom. It's NOT THAT HARD!