I'm peri- menopausal and I still get my periods complete with acne. I have cramps and hot flashes. My hair is turning salt and pepper and I still go straight to the electronic games section of the store to see if any cool new games have come out. I have been and always will be a teenage boy trapped in an aging housewife's body.
Right when I think I have figured it all out, life says, " guess again!" So now what. My kid has been living on his own for a while now. I'm still a little boy inside. This Summer I built a wood ladder bridge to take my new bike over. ( I sent myself into the trees.) I did it because the teenage boy in my head thought it was going to be awesome. ( I tore a hole in the butt of my bike pants.)
I should be a classy MILF that does community service and volunteers at the local church. I'm not. My New Years resolution is to go skinny dipping as often as I can get away with it. I should do older Mom stuff like quilt or write a helpful blog. ( Almost.) Mostly I fantasize about taking lazy road trips with my Hubby, eating junk food and reading trashy novels in between theme parks.( I'm sure my folks are proud.)
I think I do what will be fun. Sometimes it is thrilling and wonderful and sometimes you rip a hole in the butt of your bike pants. I want to build a tree house in my back yard. My Hubby says," guess again."
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Friday, January 21, 2011
Confessions of a Travian Addict
Like any addiction it started out as a little fun experimenting. I clicked out of curiosity and then got completely sucked into the free online game lifestyle. Let me be a warning to those who think they can dabble in a little online diversion. Chat forums are just a gateway drug to online gaming!
Now I go to sleep thinking about my strategy for the next morning. I message my online buddies to coordinate attacks and defenses. I message my enemies trying to negotiate tributes instead of full frontal attacks. My husband calls me to say hi and I shriek " I'm being raided by Romans!" He is very sympathetic.
I did my first raid today and killed my troop in the process. I'm beginning to suspect that I may need to join a nerd 12 step. My god, I'm still in my pajamas and it is lunch time. There is no time to do laundry I have to upgrade my iron mines!
Now I go to sleep thinking about my strategy for the next morning. I message my online buddies to coordinate attacks and defenses. I message my enemies trying to negotiate tributes instead of full frontal attacks. My husband calls me to say hi and I shriek " I'm being raided by Romans!" He is very sympathetic.
I did my first raid today and killed my troop in the process. I'm beginning to suspect that I may need to join a nerd 12 step. My god, I'm still in my pajamas and it is lunch time. There is no time to do laundry I have to upgrade my iron mines!
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Happiness isn't a Destination
Happiness next exit. Not! Happiness isn't a destination it is the occasional wind that fills your sails. Refusing to be happy is like refusing to tack your boat to catch the wind. Sometimes you line up with it and the ride is exhilarating. Sometimes you just can't seem to trim your sails right and it passes you by or worse, is so powerful that it overwhelms you.
He who as never been overwhelmed by happiness has not been reclining in the grass when a litter of golden retriever puppies attempts to lick your ears to pieces. You can be overwhelmed by happiness.I was, at a chocolate buffet once. My knees buckled at the sight.I once made sweet and sour lemon chicken for my son. He was overwhelmed by happiness. It isn't often you see a 17 year old boy squeal and hop up and down.
I guess I spent most of my life trying to hunt down and kill Happiness so I could nail it like a trophy to my wall and have it forever. I kept thinking of happiness as a concrete thing that , once trapped, could be held on to. I'm beginning to realize that happiness is an emotional energy.
Now if I can just figure out how to trim the sails I could enjoy this ride even more...
He who as never been overwhelmed by happiness has not been reclining in the grass when a litter of golden retriever puppies attempts to lick your ears to pieces. You can be overwhelmed by happiness.I was, at a chocolate buffet once. My knees buckled at the sight.I once made sweet and sour lemon chicken for my son. He was overwhelmed by happiness. It isn't often you see a 17 year old boy squeal and hop up and down.
I guess I spent most of my life trying to hunt down and kill Happiness so I could nail it like a trophy to my wall and have it forever. I kept thinking of happiness as a concrete thing that , once trapped, could be held on to. I'm beginning to realize that happiness is an emotional energy.
Now if I can just figure out how to trim the sails I could enjoy this ride even more...
Coconut Water and Spoonme
I'm watching the freezing drizzle fall on the dead brown grass and I want coconut water. I want to drink it from a green coconut that is still warm from the sun. At 12 years old I could whip a machete with surprising accuracy across the sweet spot of the coconut to expose the fountain of youth inside.
Drinking that slightly sweet nutty water made me feel invincible. Nothing I know quenches the thirst better. I think part of the satisfaction of a good swallow of coconut water is how hard you have to work to get it. Coconut trees don't yield their green nuts easily. If you manage to make it up the trunk and actually grab one you have to spin it around a hundred times before it twists off. ( I know I could have taken the machete to hack them off but I wasn't allowed to wield a machete to the state park where all the good coconut trees are.)
The water inside isn't the best part. The spoonme is. Clinging inside the shell of a green coconut is the soft creamy, flesh that tastes like coconut custard. You scrape it out with a spoon. It is what I believe angles to dine on in heaven. It is a sweet and yummy as a baby kiss. In fact, it is often the first food a Hawaiian mother feeds her infant, it is so nutritious.
I want that right now. I want to taste my childhood in the Hawaiian islands. I want run bare footed with a green coconut under each arm across the seawall all the way back home.
Drinking that slightly sweet nutty water made me feel invincible. Nothing I know quenches the thirst better. I think part of the satisfaction of a good swallow of coconut water is how hard you have to work to get it. Coconut trees don't yield their green nuts easily. If you manage to make it up the trunk and actually grab one you have to spin it around a hundred times before it twists off. ( I know I could have taken the machete to hack them off but I wasn't allowed to wield a machete to the state park where all the good coconut trees are.)
The water inside isn't the best part. The spoonme is. Clinging inside the shell of a green coconut is the soft creamy, flesh that tastes like coconut custard. You scrape it out with a spoon. It is what I believe angles to dine on in heaven. It is a sweet and yummy as a baby kiss. In fact, it is often the first food a Hawaiian mother feeds her infant, it is so nutritious.
I want that right now. I want to taste my childhood in the Hawaiian islands. I want run bare footed with a green coconut under each arm across the seawall all the way back home.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
10 Reasons the media Hates the Tea Party
Sometimes I take the snide comments about the Tea Party that are made by the American media personally. Not because I'm a member, ( I'm not the activist type. I usually vote hoping I picked the candidate that will do the least amount of damage.) I get upset about Tea Party bashing because my Mom is involved with it.
Insulting and accusing the Tea Party is like insulting my mother. Insulting the Tea Party is like bullying a granny. Why would reporters for national news broadcasts harass and rough up my Mom? Here is my opinion why the Media Hates the Tea Party.
1. The so called Tea Baggers proved the media wrong. They embarrassed the reporters by actually getting their voting agenda together. They supported certain candidates and many of those candidates won. Those who didn't take the Tea Party seriously were humbled by it's power.
2. The Tea Party is too difficult to control and exploit. You can't sell advertising to a loose knit headless organization who's only agenda is to hold government accountable for its spending, pay less taxes and make their own decisions about their health and well being. People like that can't be bought.
3. Tea Party members are ordinary, mild mannered, patient and thoughtful individuals. Individuals like that are too boring for TV. No drama no ratings.
4. The media knows that Tea Party members think all media is in bed with big government. The media likes to pretend that they aren't and it bugs them.
5. Tea Party members refuse to be stereo typed. They are Republican , Independent and Democrats. They have gender and racial diversity as well as the will to accomplish their goals. Trying to nail a stereo type to the Tea Party is like trying to pinch a watermelon seed.
6. The media is easily intimidated by soccer Moms who will email their congressmen until the Interwebs lock up.
7. The media underestimated the popularity of the Tea Party movement and by insulting the Tea Bags have lost credibility with their audience. The media wants to blame the Tea Party for not being the crazy eyed fringe group that the media said they were.
8. Most of the members of the Tea Party are middle aged Moms. Snotty reporters like to rebel against their parents.
9. Upholding the constitution,paying less taxes and simplifying government makes too much sane and rational sense. Where's the drama and outrage in that?
10. The media hates that the Tea Party finds American TV reporting irrelevant. The Tea Party has managed to influence the course of American politics without the help and despite the attacks from the media.
To the media I say, " Don't mess with my Mom!"
3. Tea Party members are ordinary, mild mannered, patient and thoughtful individuals. Individuals like that are too boring for TV. No drama no ratings.
4. The media knows that Tea Party members think all media is in bed with big government. The media likes to pretend that they aren't and it bugs them.
5. Tea Party members refuse to be stereo typed. They are Republican , Independent and Democrats. They have gender and racial diversity as well as the will to accomplish their goals. Trying to nail a stereo type to the Tea Party is like trying to pinch a watermelon seed.
6. The media is easily intimidated by soccer Moms who will email their congressmen until the Interwebs lock up.
7. The media underestimated the popularity of the Tea Party movement and by insulting the Tea Bags have lost credibility with their audience. The media wants to blame the Tea Party for not being the crazy eyed fringe group that the media said they were.
8. Most of the members of the Tea Party are middle aged Moms. Snotty reporters like to rebel against their parents.
9. Upholding the constitution,paying less taxes and simplifying government makes too much sane and rational sense. Where's the drama and outrage in that?
10. The media hates that the Tea Party finds American TV reporting irrelevant. The Tea Party has managed to influence the course of American politics without the help and despite the attacks from the media.
To the media I say, " Don't mess with my Mom!"
Pre Demo the infatuation stage
My husband wove the car through intersections and a sea of cars. Sirens in the distance and oddly lurching cars that plowed into the surging traffic all became a single living river of metal.
" It should be on the right. Look for Capitol Glass." My hubby said in a short tense voice as he jostled around a stalled semi. " I see a sign, I bet that is it!" We managed to find another entrance to the building not blocked by the ailing semi, parked the Camry and ventured into the Glass store showroom.
Shiny stylish mirrors of all shapes hung in their decorative frames. After a short greeting from the sales consultant we crept through the gallery of mirrors. Not unlike a couple shopping for a wedding ring, we went back and forth about size, details, personal taste. Like the deciding factor in a wedding ring, was I, as the female of the couple, happy?
This is the Pre-demolition phase of our remodel.This is the fantasy time where all our dreams and expectations of the new bathrooms is still formulating. We are shopping for bathroom bling. We are holding hands and discussing task lighting as if it is the most fascinating topic on the planet. For us it is. This is our forever lighting, our dream lighting. This lighting will make us better people.
I know we are playing house and being frolicsome. We waited a long time to do these updates. I'm enjoying the savoring of possibilities. I like building things with my husband. It makes us feel like a part of a very exclusive team.
" It should be on the right. Look for Capitol Glass." My hubby said in a short tense voice as he jostled around a stalled semi. " I see a sign, I bet that is it!" We managed to find another entrance to the building not blocked by the ailing semi, parked the Camry and ventured into the Glass store showroom.
Shiny stylish mirrors of all shapes hung in their decorative frames. After a short greeting from the sales consultant we crept through the gallery of mirrors. Not unlike a couple shopping for a wedding ring, we went back and forth about size, details, personal taste. Like the deciding factor in a wedding ring, was I, as the female of the couple, happy?
This is the Pre-demolition phase of our remodel.This is the fantasy time where all our dreams and expectations of the new bathrooms is still formulating. We are shopping for bathroom bling. We are holding hands and discussing task lighting as if it is the most fascinating topic on the planet. For us it is. This is our forever lighting, our dream lighting. This lighting will make us better people.
I know we are playing house and being frolicsome. We waited a long time to do these updates. I'm enjoying the savoring of possibilities. I like building things with my husband. It makes us feel like a part of a very exclusive team.
Monday, January 17, 2011
We are all the same in the waiting room of the Veterinarian
A single older lady shaped like a Buddha had a very quiet black cat in a carrier perched on her plump knee. Another tiny woman with darting eyes and an easy smile had a Dachshund chiwawa cross dog waiting to get a blood test. Also gracing the waiting room was a large Mexican family with a 10 month old bull dog in a pink fur lined vest.
There was myself and Hubby with our poodle in his red racing jacket and following us in to X- Ray his giant boxer a tallish man and his son. An elderly gentleman straggled in with his chiwawa straining against the leash. We were a motley crew. All ages, colors, temperaments and lifestyles mixed and filtered in together for one reason. We all worshiped our pets.
Goblin the cat was in to check her stitches. She had been mauled by a dog. The big boxer had a bone fragment that they were having trouble finding a way to remove. I saw the Boxer's owner, a grown man, tear up at the news. The bulldog puppy in pink was whimpering with such heartbreak that all other dogs in the waiting room would whimper back in distress and sympathy.
Even my poodle was shaking with nerves at this whole sad party of pets and their minions.
The black cat was 18 years old. Another woman with a cat mentioned that she had been adopted by the cat. Isn't that how it is. We are chosen by our animal companions. Sure, we think that we are choosing them to live in our world, but the reality is that we are the ones who live in their world.
I was informed by the Vet that my 8 year old poodle would have live on a diet of Hydrolyzed protein the rest of his fuzzy life. Probably have to dose him with Benadryl forever too. My husband and I have pretty much sacrificed every weekend off to take that poodle to the Vet for a couple of months now.
We are just like every teary eyed pet owner in the waiting room. Our world stopped when the pet got sick. I attribute it to humanity having the infinite capacity to love. We have so much love that it spills over and encompasses animals and plants too. It is the need that we have, the emotional make up we have encoded in our souls that says," I choose you to be in my family. I will love you."
There was myself and Hubby with our poodle in his red racing jacket and following us in to X- Ray his giant boxer a tallish man and his son. An elderly gentleman straggled in with his chiwawa straining against the leash. We were a motley crew. All ages, colors, temperaments and lifestyles mixed and filtered in together for one reason. We all worshiped our pets.
Goblin the cat was in to check her stitches. She had been mauled by a dog. The big boxer had a bone fragment that they were having trouble finding a way to remove. I saw the Boxer's owner, a grown man, tear up at the news. The bulldog puppy in pink was whimpering with such heartbreak that all other dogs in the waiting room would whimper back in distress and sympathy.
Even my poodle was shaking with nerves at this whole sad party of pets and their minions.
The black cat was 18 years old. Another woman with a cat mentioned that she had been adopted by the cat. Isn't that how it is. We are chosen by our animal companions. Sure, we think that we are choosing them to live in our world, but the reality is that we are the ones who live in their world.
I was informed by the Vet that my 8 year old poodle would have live on a diet of Hydrolyzed protein the rest of his fuzzy life. Probably have to dose him with Benadryl forever too. My husband and I have pretty much sacrificed every weekend off to take that poodle to the Vet for a couple of months now.
We are just like every teary eyed pet owner in the waiting room. Our world stopped when the pet got sick. I attribute it to humanity having the infinite capacity to love. We have so much love that it spills over and encompasses animals and plants too. It is the need that we have, the emotional make up we have encoded in our souls that says," I choose you to be in my family. I will love you."
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Pie Crust Fail
In my quest to fulfill all my junk food needs by making it all myself, I bake apple pie. I love an apple pie. I like the smell of warm buttery apples baking. I adore that spoogie syrup that forms as the brown sugar, apple juice and spices meld together. I especially love the under crust that has soaked up the pie syrup and become its own entity.
Damn it, I'm drooling now just thinking about it! The problem is that I haven't perfected the ingredients yet and my crust making technique is pathetic. I don't own a food processor. I use a pastry blender by hand (pastry cutter?) It looks like a handle with curved wires looping across. If you held it sideways it would make the letter D. Real bakers know what I'm babbling about.
Anyhoo, I just don't have the knack yet. My learning curve for pie crust is weak. I did a decent job on the filling. Go ahead and picture me gutting the pie slice and leaving the wooden crust empty. It was a little bland though.
I knew instinctively that there should have been more sugar. I knew it and didn't follow my gut. Bland pie. Husband isn't a fan of the apple pie persuasion. He is a chocolate ice cream kind of guy. He eats the pie if nothing else jumps at him in the kitchen. He never complains or criticizes. He is genius that way. He only agrees with me if I say it first.
" I prefer it a little sweeter." I mentioned.
" Yeah, I like that syrupy stuff to kind of slide out." He admits.
For a moment I consider pouring maple syrup on the pie. I stop myself and accept that this pie is sub par. Somewhere there is an Amish Tween who can out bake and out crust me in her sleep. ( Probably because she has more experience and the genetics that comes from generations of expert pie baking genes.) I didn't get that gene.
I got the craving for pie but not the crust making ability. (Yet.) Store bought pie still kicks my pie's butt.
Damn it, I'm drooling now just thinking about it! The problem is that I haven't perfected the ingredients yet and my crust making technique is pathetic. I don't own a food processor. I use a pastry blender by hand (pastry cutter?) It looks like a handle with curved wires looping across. If you held it sideways it would make the letter D. Real bakers know what I'm babbling about.
Anyhoo, I just don't have the knack yet. My learning curve for pie crust is weak. I did a decent job on the filling. Go ahead and picture me gutting the pie slice and leaving the wooden crust empty. It was a little bland though.
I knew instinctively that there should have been more sugar. I knew it and didn't follow my gut. Bland pie. Husband isn't a fan of the apple pie persuasion. He is a chocolate ice cream kind of guy. He eats the pie if nothing else jumps at him in the kitchen. He never complains or criticizes. He is genius that way. He only agrees with me if I say it first.
" I prefer it a little sweeter." I mentioned.
" Yeah, I like that syrupy stuff to kind of slide out." He admits.
For a moment I consider pouring maple syrup on the pie. I stop myself and accept that this pie is sub par. Somewhere there is an Amish Tween who can out bake and out crust me in her sleep. ( Probably because she has more experience and the genetics that comes from generations of expert pie baking genes.) I didn't get that gene.
I got the craving for pie but not the crust making ability. (Yet.) Store bought pie still kicks my pie's butt.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Having an Android Phone doesn't make me cooler
It made me feel trendy and current for about 15 seconds. That feeling evaporated when the salesman had to show me how to answer it. I kept stabbing at it with my finger; poking pathetically at the shiny screen. I think he thought that I was pretending to be technically retarded as a joke.
"Just swipe it,Swipe It! He insisted.
So naturally I took the phone and swooshed it back and forth in the air in a swiping motion. He leaned over and swiped his finger across the green call bar and the call was answered. ( I swore I could hear the theme song from 2001 A Space Odyssey playing in my head.)
I may not be a cool nerd but I like looking like one. I have a really nifty ring tone for when I get texts. It sounds like Conga drums. The only thing is that I hear these drums when I'm shopping and I look around like " What the hell is that?"
I think my ring tone for the phone is too pretty. It sounds like enchanted fairy music. Sometimes I hear enchanted fairy music and I just stare off into space wondering where the pretty music is coming from...It is coming from the special pouch I sewed for my awesomely new phone. I sewed a pouch to wear around my neck so I could hear it and I could wear the phone while I ride my bike.
The phone is so sleek and cool it won't stay in my pocket. So I sewed a special custom geek pouch for my ultra nerdy phone that I ignore when it does a cool ring tone. My hubby is a pragmatic man. His ring tone sounds like a good ole' fashioned telephone ring. I know I could change the ring so I could notice it, but that would mean I have to train myself to answer a new ring tone. Too much change!
So if you see an aging MILF wandering around Walmart staring into space as her fairy music ring tone is blaring around her neck, in that snazzy purple homemade pouch, tap her kindly on the shoulder and let her know that her phone is ringing. I'll appreciate it.
"Just swipe it,Swipe It! He insisted.
So naturally I took the phone and swooshed it back and forth in the air in a swiping motion. He leaned over and swiped his finger across the green call bar and the call was answered. ( I swore I could hear the theme song from 2001 A Space Odyssey playing in my head.)
I may not be a cool nerd but I like looking like one. I have a really nifty ring tone for when I get texts. It sounds like Conga drums. The only thing is that I hear these drums when I'm shopping and I look around like " What the hell is that?"
I think my ring tone for the phone is too pretty. It sounds like enchanted fairy music. Sometimes I hear enchanted fairy music and I just stare off into space wondering where the pretty music is coming from...It is coming from the special pouch I sewed for my awesomely new phone. I sewed a pouch to wear around my neck so I could hear it and I could wear the phone while I ride my bike.
The phone is so sleek and cool it won't stay in my pocket. So I sewed a special custom geek pouch for my ultra nerdy phone that I ignore when it does a cool ring tone. My hubby is a pragmatic man. His ring tone sounds like a good ole' fashioned telephone ring. I know I could change the ring so I could notice it, but that would mean I have to train myself to answer a new ring tone. Too much change!
So if you see an aging MILF wandering around Walmart staring into space as her fairy music ring tone is blaring around her neck, in that snazzy purple homemade pouch, tap her kindly on the shoulder and let her know that her phone is ringing. I'll appreciate it.
Fun with Conspiracy Theories!
I just read a brilliantly written article called 10 Popular Conspiracy Theories by Vicki Santillano. There is something about conspiracy theories that make me want to turn them into my ball of yarn. I can't help it. Those who spout theories as if they were law drive me bonkers. I will now make fun of the top 10 Conspiracy Theories.
1. Lee Harvey Oswald was a just a fall guy for a shadow group that wanted to assassinate JFK for their own agenda. Lee Harvey Oswald was an alien from outer space! Oswald, Roswell...coincidence?! Everybody knows that all shadow groups are the Illuminati.
2. Princess Diana was assassinated by the British Royal Family, or her death was faked to escape the glaring limelight of public life. Clearly the British Royal Family runs the Illuminati and they were jealous of her popularity. She might have been a Reptilian plant used by the hostile Reptilians to mind control humanity, or was it that the Illuminati are really Reptilians trying to destroy the fabric of mankind. I forget which.
3. AIDS is a disease created as a biological weapon by the government to exterminate gays and black people. Worse yet the government has the cure but is withholding it. All government is run by the Illuminati, (poorly) and they have been developing a retro virus that will transmute humans into Reptilians. AIDS is just a test strain. It will be more effective when global warming really kicks in.
4. 9/11 was orchestrated by Bush to gain more power. 9/11 is really a smoke screen for the world's worst alien attack from space. Humanity just can't handle the horrible truth.
5. Elvis is still alive. I watched Men in Black and they said Elvis didn't die he just went home. TV doesn't lie.
6. The 1969 Apollo moon landing was faked to embarrass the soviet Union. This is simply not true only women are good a faking things for the sake of a man's pride, ( like an orgasm. Oh, oh, You Da Man!) whatever.
7. A UFO crashed in Roswell New Mexico. Absolutely nothing ever happens in Roswell. Whoever the genius marketing person was to start that rumour they deserve a prize. Without the tourism from UFO buffs to that one horse town, Roswell would be just another deserted hick town with nothing but tumble weeds.
8. Global Warming is a hoax perpetrated by Al Gore to get revenge for not winning the presidency. This one is actually true.
9. William Shakespeare was a pen name and other people wrote those famous plays. Will Shakespeare is a Reptilian member of the Illuminati and all his plays are a form of mind control. "To be or not to be, a human skin sack..."
10. Reptilian humanoids are infiltrating society in order to dominate us. I don't know if this is true or not. I do know that humans are impossible to control. ( Try telling your teenager to clean his room up.) The very nature of the indomitable human spirit is comfort enough for me.
1. Lee Harvey Oswald was a just a fall guy for a shadow group that wanted to assassinate JFK for their own agenda. Lee Harvey Oswald was an alien from outer space! Oswald, Roswell...coincidence?! Everybody knows that all shadow groups are the Illuminati.
2. Princess Diana was assassinated by the British Royal Family, or her death was faked to escape the glaring limelight of public life. Clearly the British Royal Family runs the Illuminati and they were jealous of her popularity. She might have been a Reptilian plant used by the hostile Reptilians to mind control humanity, or was it that the Illuminati are really Reptilians trying to destroy the fabric of mankind. I forget which.
3. AIDS is a disease created as a biological weapon by the government to exterminate gays and black people. Worse yet the government has the cure but is withholding it. All government is run by the Illuminati, (poorly) and they have been developing a retro virus that will transmute humans into Reptilians. AIDS is just a test strain. It will be more effective when global warming really kicks in.
4. 9/11 was orchestrated by Bush to gain more power. 9/11 is really a smoke screen for the world's worst alien attack from space. Humanity just can't handle the horrible truth.
5. Elvis is still alive. I watched Men in Black and they said Elvis didn't die he just went home. TV doesn't lie.
6. The 1969 Apollo moon landing was faked to embarrass the soviet Union. This is simply not true only women are good a faking things for the sake of a man's pride, ( like an orgasm. Oh, oh, You Da Man!) whatever.
7. A UFO crashed in Roswell New Mexico. Absolutely nothing ever happens in Roswell. Whoever the genius marketing person was to start that rumour they deserve a prize. Without the tourism from UFO buffs to that one horse town, Roswell would be just another deserted hick town with nothing but tumble weeds.
8. Global Warming is a hoax perpetrated by Al Gore to get revenge for not winning the presidency. This one is actually true.
9. William Shakespeare was a pen name and other people wrote those famous plays. Will Shakespeare is a Reptilian member of the Illuminati and all his plays are a form of mind control. "To be or not to be, a human skin sack..."
10. Reptilian humanoids are infiltrating society in order to dominate us. I don't know if this is true or not. I do know that humans are impossible to control. ( Try telling your teenager to clean his room up.) The very nature of the indomitable human spirit is comfort enough for me.
Friday, January 14, 2011
It isn't junk food if you make it from scratch
I like pizza very much. French fries sometimes haunt my dreams. My compromise with the fact that most would consider these items to be junk food is that I make them myself. At least I can control the ingredients like using organic unbleached flour for the crust and low salt cheese and loads of veggies on the pizza.
Before you start to feel defensive, just know that I do buy and eat junk food. I'm not a militant foodie or anything. When you really want to eat comfort food as often as I do you try and soften the blow by making it.
I make fries using olive oil. That probably doesn't really make much of a difference but it makes me feel better. It eases the guilt. Trust me I have great food guilt to draw on. For instance, I eat real butter. To feel less guilty about it I buy unsalted butter. Recently I saw on TV that margarine is bad for you. I laughed my ass off. That happens a lot. Not the laughing part but hearing that something that was supposed to be fabulous for you turns out to be absolute crap.
Remember when eggs were decreed to be evil? Apparently they are good for you. Hah. I knew it. My favorite is the new information about how great cheese is for calcium and bone health. Those damn health Nazis have been trying to keep us all away from lovely cheese for decades!
My latest project is to make my own apple pie from scratch. Peeling apples is really tedious. By the time I am done with crafting a decent crust, peeling and seasoning apples and finally crouching in front of the oven viewing window like some weirdo pie stalker, I am exhausted. I guess I eat less because I'm spending more time in my recovery nap mode.
Now, if there was a way to make spray can cheese from scratch...
Before you start to feel defensive, just know that I do buy and eat junk food. I'm not a militant foodie or anything. When you really want to eat comfort food as often as I do you try and soften the blow by making it.
I make fries using olive oil. That probably doesn't really make much of a difference but it makes me feel better. It eases the guilt. Trust me I have great food guilt to draw on. For instance, I eat real butter. To feel less guilty about it I buy unsalted butter. Recently I saw on TV that margarine is bad for you. I laughed my ass off. That happens a lot. Not the laughing part but hearing that something that was supposed to be fabulous for you turns out to be absolute crap.
Remember when eggs were decreed to be evil? Apparently they are good for you. Hah. I knew it. My favorite is the new information about how great cheese is for calcium and bone health. Those damn health Nazis have been trying to keep us all away from lovely cheese for decades!
My latest project is to make my own apple pie from scratch. Peeling apples is really tedious. By the time I am done with crafting a decent crust, peeling and seasoning apples and finally crouching in front of the oven viewing window like some weirdo pie stalker, I am exhausted. I guess I eat less because I'm spending more time in my recovery nap mode.
Now, if there was a way to make spray can cheese from scratch...
Adventures in Remodeling
For those of us that are addicted to home improvement shows the best return on your investment is in remodeling kitchens and bathrooms. I submit that the most popular reasons that people move out is because they hate their kitchens and their bathrooms are a nightmare.
When we bought our home it was old. It wasn't vintage or quaint, just old. There were poorly disguised holes in the walls where once there had been intercoms. ( High tech back in the 70's.) The plumbing was iffy and it got replaced. There had been updates done cosmetically in the 80's. All of which I removed and re painted.
This is the year, after so many years of little fixes, that the bathrooms get a face lift! * Does a domestic goddess happy dance up and down the hallway!* I'm not a total bum. I did scrape the linoleum flooring and put in new sticky lino tiles, as well as install some new toilets. We aren't animals. I know how to use a caulking gun.
This is the year we gut the old leaky pipes,install ceramic tile instead of linoleum and replace the cabinets and mirrors that have been showing every inch of their 38 years of heavy use. Under mount sinks with granite counter tops Baby!
I am so ready for this. I have used Lime Away to dissolve the perennial rust stains. I have blended porcelain paint to disguise the corroding drain holes. I even painted the battle scarred laminate counter tops with epoxy paint in an effort to fight the ravages of time. I want that new bathroom experience. I want it like some women want a European vacation or a passionate romance. ( For the record I want those too but I want a new bathroom so much more.)
I have a spiritual theory why bathrooms are so important to a home buyer or home owner. The bathroom is your altar, your self shrine. It is the place where you are cleansed from the sins of your life and transformed clean and shiny to a better version of you. That just doesn't happen if you have crappy lighting, leaky pipes and a decaying vanity mirror.
I have to go now as the contractor is here to measure the bathroom dimentions...
When we bought our home it was old. It wasn't vintage or quaint, just old. There were poorly disguised holes in the walls where once there had been intercoms. ( High tech back in the 70's.) The plumbing was iffy and it got replaced. There had been updates done cosmetically in the 80's. All of which I removed and re painted.
This is the year, after so many years of little fixes, that the bathrooms get a face lift! * Does a domestic goddess happy dance up and down the hallway!* I'm not a total bum. I did scrape the linoleum flooring and put in new sticky lino tiles, as well as install some new toilets. We aren't animals. I know how to use a caulking gun.
This is the year we gut the old leaky pipes,install ceramic tile instead of linoleum and replace the cabinets and mirrors that have been showing every inch of their 38 years of heavy use. Under mount sinks with granite counter tops Baby!
I am so ready for this. I have used Lime Away to dissolve the perennial rust stains. I have blended porcelain paint to disguise the corroding drain holes. I even painted the battle scarred laminate counter tops with epoxy paint in an effort to fight the ravages of time. I want that new bathroom experience. I want it like some women want a European vacation or a passionate romance. ( For the record I want those too but I want a new bathroom so much more.)
I have a spiritual theory why bathrooms are so important to a home buyer or home owner. The bathroom is your altar, your self shrine. It is the place where you are cleansed from the sins of your life and transformed clean and shiny to a better version of you. That just doesn't happen if you have crappy lighting, leaky pipes and a decaying vanity mirror.
I have to go now as the contractor is here to measure the bathroom dimentions...
Stuff I like for Winter
Oprah has her favorite things and I'd like to get in on the act. There are a few things in my life at this time of year that I adore. Some items are must haves and some are just nice to have but all are cherished.
Last night Hubby remarked that he knew it was Winter because his cuticles were painfully cracked. Stuff I like for that is Burt's Bees hand Salve. I had some tucked away in my manicure tackle box and gave it to him. ( Honey if you are reading this don't forget to slather some on. *kiss*)
Cold weather and dry arctic winds gives a body lizard lips. It isn't pretty. Stuff I love for purity and effectiveness is Lip Smacker 100% natural Vanilla Bean Lip Balm. ( Cue angelic singing.) It is a blend of olive oil, beeswax, fruit essence, aloe and vitamin E. I wish the tube lasted longer.
Normally I don't advocate killing but sometimes you just have to. My next thing that makes Winter bearable is my defence against germs! I must kill them, kill them all!You think you don't care about germs until a snotty little kid openly sprays you with a sneeze filled with active virus. So gross. Most awesome hand sanitizer ever is Gold Bond Ultimate Hand Sanitizer Sheer Moisture, ultralight formula. It has a slight citrus scent and leaves your hands soft and virus free. The best part is it kills 99.99% of germs. I guess the .01% is left alive as a warning to the others or something.
I cannot face the cold season without fuzzy socks. I start shopping for fuzzy socks as soon as the leaves start to turn. My favorite pair are fuzzy socks that have ferret faces embroidered on them and little rubberized nubs on the soles so I don't slip. These are genius. They look stupid but they feel so right. Sometimes I wear them under normal socks and double up.
I like this stuff too-
Hot cocoa
Electric blanket
Lasko space heater shaped like a chiminea
Dog pajamas for the poodle
Hot apple cider
Christmas lights, pretty
I have my fuzzy ferret socks on right now and my hands smell faintly of citrus. After I slide on another coat of Vanilla bean Lip Smacker I'll be ready to face the day.
Last night Hubby remarked that he knew it was Winter because his cuticles were painfully cracked. Stuff I like for that is Burt's Bees hand Salve. I had some tucked away in my manicure tackle box and gave it to him. ( Honey if you are reading this don't forget to slather some on. *kiss*)
Cold weather and dry arctic winds gives a body lizard lips. It isn't pretty. Stuff I love for purity and effectiveness is Lip Smacker 100% natural Vanilla Bean Lip Balm. ( Cue angelic singing.) It is a blend of olive oil, beeswax, fruit essence, aloe and vitamin E. I wish the tube lasted longer.
Normally I don't advocate killing but sometimes you just have to. My next thing that makes Winter bearable is my defence against germs! I must kill them, kill them all!You think you don't care about germs until a snotty little kid openly sprays you with a sneeze filled with active virus. So gross. Most awesome hand sanitizer ever is Gold Bond Ultimate Hand Sanitizer Sheer Moisture, ultralight formula. It has a slight citrus scent and leaves your hands soft and virus free. The best part is it kills 99.99% of germs. I guess the .01% is left alive as a warning to the others or something.
I cannot face the cold season without fuzzy socks. I start shopping for fuzzy socks as soon as the leaves start to turn. My favorite pair are fuzzy socks that have ferret faces embroidered on them and little rubberized nubs on the soles so I don't slip. These are genius. They look stupid but they feel so right. Sometimes I wear them under normal socks and double up.
I like this stuff too-
Hot cocoa
Electric blanket
Lasko space heater shaped like a chiminea
Dog pajamas for the poodle
Hot apple cider
Christmas lights, pretty
I have my fuzzy ferret socks on right now and my hands smell faintly of citrus. After I slide on another coat of Vanilla bean Lip Smacker I'll be ready to face the day.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
UFOs are overrated
Waiting for aliens from outer space to come and contact the human race has been a real disappointment for me. A couple of years ago a woman who claimed to have a channeled message from our space brothers said they would arrive on a certain date and over a certain area in their mother ships. She had a huge following. She sold a lot of books too. I secretly wanted her to be right.
I will admit that I was first in line to make fun of her when the aliens were a no show ( Not to her face, just online among my Internet buddies.) I felt sad for her too. It had to be worse than being left at the altar. Her alien space brothers lied to her and didn't show up. That sucks. She made a day after video and looked absolutely devastated.
I just don't believe the hype anymore and that is sad. The magic is gone. I watch UFO documentaries and snort in critical disgust. When I was a kid I was enchanted by the pictures of the Nazca Lines. I thought crop circles were interplanetary love notes from aliens. Not anymore.
Nobody discusses the idea that the Nazca lines might be just a bunch of local graffiti created by ancient drunken frat boys. Maybe I'm just bitter. How come all the UFO footage sucks so bad? Why do videos of alien craft look like the camera man had palsy? Anal probes, really, you can fly across space and time and all you brought was an anal probe?!
Where are the polite aliens from space? How come they don't show up and bring cookies or a potted plant?
So many of the popular conspiracy theorists rant about how the government is covering it all up. They say that the powers that be are hiding reams of evidence from the public to prevent all out panic. I wish the government was that well organized. have you ever been to the Department of Motor Vehicle.
There's my conspiracy theory right there. The space aliens landed and registered at the DMV, never to be heard from again...
I will admit that I was first in line to make fun of her when the aliens were a no show ( Not to her face, just online among my Internet buddies.) I felt sad for her too. It had to be worse than being left at the altar. Her alien space brothers lied to her and didn't show up. That sucks. She made a day after video and looked absolutely devastated.
I just don't believe the hype anymore and that is sad. The magic is gone. I watch UFO documentaries and snort in critical disgust. When I was a kid I was enchanted by the pictures of the Nazca Lines. I thought crop circles were interplanetary love notes from aliens. Not anymore.
Nobody discusses the idea that the Nazca lines might be just a bunch of local graffiti created by ancient drunken frat boys. Maybe I'm just bitter. How come all the UFO footage sucks so bad? Why do videos of alien craft look like the camera man had palsy? Anal probes, really, you can fly across space and time and all you brought was an anal probe?!
Where are the polite aliens from space? How come they don't show up and bring cookies or a potted plant?
So many of the popular conspiracy theorists rant about how the government is covering it all up. They say that the powers that be are hiding reams of evidence from the public to prevent all out panic. I wish the government was that well organized. have you ever been to the Department of Motor Vehicle.
There's my conspiracy theory right there. The space aliens landed and registered at the DMV, never to be heard from again...
Masturbation is underrated
For those of you who are squeamish about sexuality or prudish in any way, stop reading right now. This post is not for you, not today. For those of you who read the title and clapped your hands in delight, read on!
There are some things in life that only you can do the best. Like loading the dishwasher. Nobody can load the dishwasher in just the right pattern and sequence to maximize the cleaning efficacy. No one and no car wash can possibly get your car as clean as you can. You take the time. You care. It is the same with self pleasure.
If there be anyone among you has found some one to tickle your fancy better than your own self I want you to know I am profoundly jealous. ( If you brag about that in the comments I might learn to hate you, you lucky bastard.)
Back to the point at hand. ( Yeah I said it!) Masturbation is awesome. Why did they not sing it's praises in Health Education classes back in high school. I'm certain several unwanted pregnancies and frustrated teen fights could have been avoided in the general population if such a class had been taught. Seriously, have you ever wanted to have a fight after an orgasm?
Masturbation is totally free! The one joy in life that costs absolutely nothing. You don't even need to buy any special uniform or membership. The government doesn't tax it. It can't be stolen. It is portable and has no expiration date.
The natural happy chemicals that are released when you self pleasure are terrific for maintaining great health and happiness. They should really encourage every age group to celebrate self love. Not that you have to encourage toddlers they already know. It is true you have to kind of curb their enthusiasm for touching their privates in public, but instinctively they know how to have a good time.
It is kind of sad that physical pleasure somehow became a sin. I feel bad for you if you have mental programing that gives you guilt for making yourself feel good. I will never have to worry about that. I love it. My last dying words will not be, " I should have orgasmed more...*croak*"
Here is a list of people I think should play with themselves more-
Hassled Mothers
Politicians
Tech Support ( But not when they are working, ew.)
Conspiracy Theorists
All Religious leaders
Anti Anything Protesters ( In fact they should all masturbate just before they go to a rally to promote clear thinking.)
Walmart Checkers ( again, not while working.)
Octomom (Well, I guess that would fall under hassled mother.)
Couples who are fighting. ( They should just take a pleasure time out.)
Actually everybody should be on the list. Think of the calories that will be burned off. What an amazing tribute to peace and wellness it would be if we all could have a Jerk-Off Around the World Day. I'd buy that T-Shirt.
I know many will think I am silly and tacky. ( I am.) Let the genius of the idea grow on you. There is no more underrated act of self adoration than what I suggest. In your life there is nothing more centering and powerful than you loving who you are. Touching yourself and enjoying it is a part of that.
There are some things in life that only you can do the best. Like loading the dishwasher. Nobody can load the dishwasher in just the right pattern and sequence to maximize the cleaning efficacy. No one and no car wash can possibly get your car as clean as you can. You take the time. You care. It is the same with self pleasure.
If there be anyone among you has found some one to tickle your fancy better than your own self I want you to know I am profoundly jealous. ( If you brag about that in the comments I might learn to hate you, you lucky bastard.)
Back to the point at hand. ( Yeah I said it!) Masturbation is awesome. Why did they not sing it's praises in Health Education classes back in high school. I'm certain several unwanted pregnancies and frustrated teen fights could have been avoided in the general population if such a class had been taught. Seriously, have you ever wanted to have a fight after an orgasm?
Masturbation is totally free! The one joy in life that costs absolutely nothing. You don't even need to buy any special uniform or membership. The government doesn't tax it. It can't be stolen. It is portable and has no expiration date.
The natural happy chemicals that are released when you self pleasure are terrific for maintaining great health and happiness. They should really encourage every age group to celebrate self love. Not that you have to encourage toddlers they already know. It is true you have to kind of curb their enthusiasm for touching their privates in public, but instinctively they know how to have a good time.
It is kind of sad that physical pleasure somehow became a sin. I feel bad for you if you have mental programing that gives you guilt for making yourself feel good. I will never have to worry about that. I love it. My last dying words will not be, " I should have orgasmed more...*croak*"
Here is a list of people I think should play with themselves more-
Hassled Mothers
Politicians
Tech Support ( But not when they are working, ew.)
Conspiracy Theorists
All Religious leaders
Anti Anything Protesters ( In fact they should all masturbate just before they go to a rally to promote clear thinking.)
Walmart Checkers ( again, not while working.)
Octomom (Well, I guess that would fall under hassled mother.)
Couples who are fighting. ( They should just take a pleasure time out.)
Actually everybody should be on the list. Think of the calories that will be burned off. What an amazing tribute to peace and wellness it would be if we all could have a Jerk-Off Around the World Day. I'd buy that T-Shirt.
I know many will think I am silly and tacky. ( I am.) Let the genius of the idea grow on you. There is no more underrated act of self adoration than what I suggest. In your life there is nothing more centering and powerful than you loving who you are. Touching yourself and enjoying it is a part of that.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Pajamas at Walmart
I live in the Midwest. My neighbors are horses and cows. Walmart is the closest thing to Big City as it gets around here. I take that back, there is a Cato clothing store that is kind of a classy place to buy ladies clothing and shoes.
People in my town like to be comfortable. I think most people who work hard and have too little time prioritize comfort pretty high on the list. I do not wear pajamas to Walmart. Not because I find it inappropriate or unfashionable, but because I am very tall and pajamas are always too high over the ankles for me. While most people look cuddly and cute in their fuzzy flannel Jammie pants, they make me look slightly homeless with a borderline mental illness.
I find children piled in a cart, half asleep while a tired Momma shops late at night in their pajamas endearing. I once ran into an elderly man who was drunk in his dressing gown holding a jar of green olives late one night. He wanted to dance with me. It was 2AM and seemed appropriate at the time.
For years I tried to resist the urge to wear lounge wear. I thought that I had some unspoken agreement with society that I would always dress in proper dress attire. It was a little unnerving that nobody else seemed to adhere to the unspoken contract anymore. I am at a crossroads. Succumb to the casual comfort of sweat pants or make the time consuming effort of dressing. Oh, the temptation to stay in my still warm pajamas on a cold day...
My husband is a very tidy and stylish man. He has upheld his end of the agreement with refined society. He is the reason I fight the urge to roll myself up in shapeless sweat shirts and pajama pants to the restaurant. I do this partly because I like him to think I am pretty and partly to mark my territory. I dress to act as a warning to any hunting females sniffing around my attractive husband that he already has a domestic goddess on his altar. No others need apply.
This is not fear dressing. I am merely wearing the uniform that delineates my position. I am fashionably scent marking my territory. I'm not afraid, this is just my job. You expect the guy in chage to wear a suit and his underlings to wear khaki pants and polo shirts. You expect the doctor to wear a lab coat and the patients to wear gowns.It just makes it easier for everybody.
This Winter I saw an entire family stroll into Walmart wearing Snuggies; all of them, Mom, Dad, Grandparents and two little kids. They looked like a cult. I'm not going to lie to you. It was really cold and they probably got caught without the appropriate clothing. These were emergency Snuggies! They had mastered comfort dressing on the fly and I was impressed. Perhaps I should have Tsk, tsked at the choice of garment, but they seemed really, really relaxed and snugly. The worst feeling I could summon about it besides the envy was mild amusement.
Last night I saw a commercial for giant onesies for adults. Big fuzzy, primary colored, zippered jumper affairs that even had a zippered butt trap door for easy access when you need to toilet. After a laugh at how they made everyone look like a Telly Tubbie I found myself thinking about what color I wanted...
People in my town like to be comfortable. I think most people who work hard and have too little time prioritize comfort pretty high on the list. I do not wear pajamas to Walmart. Not because I find it inappropriate or unfashionable, but because I am very tall and pajamas are always too high over the ankles for me. While most people look cuddly and cute in their fuzzy flannel Jammie pants, they make me look slightly homeless with a borderline mental illness.
I find children piled in a cart, half asleep while a tired Momma shops late at night in their pajamas endearing. I once ran into an elderly man who was drunk in his dressing gown holding a jar of green olives late one night. He wanted to dance with me. It was 2AM and seemed appropriate at the time.
For years I tried to resist the urge to wear lounge wear. I thought that I had some unspoken agreement with society that I would always dress in proper dress attire. It was a little unnerving that nobody else seemed to adhere to the unspoken contract anymore. I am at a crossroads. Succumb to the casual comfort of sweat pants or make the time consuming effort of dressing. Oh, the temptation to stay in my still warm pajamas on a cold day...
My husband is a very tidy and stylish man. He has upheld his end of the agreement with refined society. He is the reason I fight the urge to roll myself up in shapeless sweat shirts and pajama pants to the restaurant. I do this partly because I like him to think I am pretty and partly to mark my territory. I dress to act as a warning to any hunting females sniffing around my attractive husband that he already has a domestic goddess on his altar. No others need apply.
This is not fear dressing. I am merely wearing the uniform that delineates my position. I am fashionably scent marking my territory. I'm not afraid, this is just my job. You expect the guy in chage to wear a suit and his underlings to wear khaki pants and polo shirts. You expect the doctor to wear a lab coat and the patients to wear gowns.It just makes it easier for everybody.
This Winter I saw an entire family stroll into Walmart wearing Snuggies; all of them, Mom, Dad, Grandparents and two little kids. They looked like a cult. I'm not going to lie to you. It was really cold and they probably got caught without the appropriate clothing. These were emergency Snuggies! They had mastered comfort dressing on the fly and I was impressed. Perhaps I should have Tsk, tsked at the choice of garment, but they seemed really, really relaxed and snugly. The worst feeling I could summon about it besides the envy was mild amusement.
Last night I saw a commercial for giant onesies for adults. Big fuzzy, primary colored, zippered jumper affairs that even had a zippered butt trap door for easy access when you need to toilet. After a laugh at how they made everyone look like a Telly Tubbie I found myself thinking about what color I wanted...
The Maiden Post- Losing my blog virginity
Not since I opened a My space account for the first time with trembling hands and an excitement akin to a first date have I felt so vulnerable and thrilled. OK, not thrilled but a little nervous. That first blog you put out there is like your first impression.
Will they like me?
Will I seem cool and relevant? (Have I ever been cool and relevant?)
There is a lot of self induced pressure for a first blog post. Barring any massive Internet hack and deletion, the Internet blog is forever. It becomes the record of your electronic life that is out there and chiseled in Internet stone. This used to worry me a little.
Then one day as I was posting on a favorite website I googled some facts that I needed on an subject and I got me! I mean, I googled up a quote I had written about two years previous. I found this hilarious. My only real fact to back up what I was writing about was...me.
While my ideals, goals and attitude have changed I did still find my own writing entertaining. I suspect I'll continue to change and evolve, even contradict myself until the day they put the toe tag on me. As long as I am funny and entertaining to myself I feel it is a worthy goal to document it.
I'm a rambler. I write like I think, much like a moth hopped up on espresso. Although I have never been formally diagnosed with ADHD, I feel a certain sympathy for the condition. I loath blogs that are mean. I don't want to be that blogger. I like funny, to the point and even a little painless information. When I'm feeling saucy I like to throw in a little gut wrenching stuff just to give a heartbreak sorbet in the middle of more funny scribbling.
So, there you have it. Thank you for being a part of my blogging deflowering.
Will they like me?
Will I seem cool and relevant? (Have I ever been cool and relevant?)
There is a lot of self induced pressure for a first blog post. Barring any massive Internet hack and deletion, the Internet blog is forever. It becomes the record of your electronic life that is out there and chiseled in Internet stone. This used to worry me a little.
Then one day as I was posting on a favorite website I googled some facts that I needed on an subject and I got me! I mean, I googled up a quote I had written about two years previous. I found this hilarious. My only real fact to back up what I was writing about was...me.
While my ideals, goals and attitude have changed I did still find my own writing entertaining. I suspect I'll continue to change and evolve, even contradict myself until the day they put the toe tag on me. As long as I am funny and entertaining to myself I feel it is a worthy goal to document it.
I'm a rambler. I write like I think, much like a moth hopped up on espresso. Although I have never been formally diagnosed with ADHD, I feel a certain sympathy for the condition. I loath blogs that are mean. I don't want to be that blogger. I like funny, to the point and even a little painless information. When I'm feeling saucy I like to throw in a little gut wrenching stuff just to give a heartbreak sorbet in the middle of more funny scribbling.
So, there you have it. Thank you for being a part of my blogging deflowering.
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