Friday, February 18, 2005

She's a poker

I don't know what her problem is. She pokes. All the time. She pokes me in the butt, she pokes me in the leg, she pokes me in the stomach. Basically, what ever body part she can get her devilish index finger near, she pokes! Some how this has become some warped sign of affection to her. I know this because she says "I love you" {{poke}}, "I love you" {{poke}}. Oh, it makes me want to scream.

Maybe it's some sort of Affection Terrets Disorder. It does seem like she can not control it. It's like she is so over come with emotion and love that she has to POKE to get her point across.

Last night I was scurrying around the kitchen getting some kitchen type stuff done, while simeltaneously trying to have a conversation with Hubbychong. Well, 'lil Diva was following me around the kitchen poking me. She was poking and saying "I love you" over and over again and Hubbychong was talking and I was cleaning.....the sensory perception portion of my brain could not handle this much stimuli at one time.

Every time my daughter poked me my brain was saying "stop that annoying behavior", but the message was getting lost somewhere between the ears that were listening and the hands that were cleaning and never making to my vocal cords.

There was a 3 second lull in the listening/poking/cleaning, and my brain was able to shoot a quick message to my mouth.

Calgon! (as in Calgon, take me away)

Only it wasn't my voice. It was the shrill voice of a madwoman. A madwoman that obviously needed a bath. They both just looked at me with a blank "deer in the headlights" sort of stare and walked away.

Happy Fri(itsabouttime)day!

Thursday, February 17, 2005

Suddenly Voa Voa

Well, its finally happened! I have officially turned into my grandmother! Skipped right the hell over acting like my mother and went straight to acting like my grandmother.

I bought 2 boxes of "Fairly Odd Parents" valentines cards for my kids to bring to school. NEXT YEAR! Next freakin year! I probably will not even be able to find them in February 2006, let alone actually use them. But they were on sale, $1.00. One dollar per box people. I know you want me to go and grab up the rest of them and UPS them out to you don't you? I know you do! Us old folk, we can not pass up a bargain. ONE dollar a box...dayam!

Random Acts of Whaaaat?, how long ya had dat problem?

Today, my friends, is "Random Acts of Kindness Day".

Better than Random Acts of Violence Day, which is like almost everyday in my city. I wonder if the gangs members are aware of this. I wonder if the leaders (for lack of a better word), will be extending olive branches to each other today? Highly unlikely, I know, but a girl can dream.


Leader1: Yo dude, I real sorry I popped a cap in ya boys ass. If ida known it was this close to "Random Acts of Kindness Day", I never woulda done dat.

Leader2: Word, its ok, only a flesh wound, and you owed me fo stealin' your customers on dat deal.

Leader1: It's aww-ight brotha-man, we square now. Ya know, just fa today.

Leader2: Word!

{insert: fist clasp, shoulder tapping and a hand clap on the back}

Happy Fucking Thursday!

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

Kids say the darndest things!

When my now 8 year old son was about 3 years old he added a new word to our version of Webster's Dictionary.

He had a cold with a very runny nose. So when I heard him sniffle, I would say do you need a tissue? The cold lasted a few days, nothing serious.

The following week, he sneezed, and he ran up to me and said, "Mummy, I need a tish-me"!
Of course, being me, I cracked up. He raised one eyebrow at me, then took the tisssue and walked away. His father and I thought it was so cute we allowed him to continue to call tissues, tish-mes until he was, oh I don't know 4 or 4 1/2 years old. He was the hit of the cold and flu season to the whole family. At some point we decided, before he went to school that we ought to correct this verbal faux paus. So we did.

Last night we were cuddled up on the couch watching TV and I sneezed. I said Bam-bam, can you hand mum a tish-me? He didn't remember the tish-me incedent at all. But when I told him about it, he laughed. Then he said, "yea....I was a cute kid"!

Friday, February 11, 2005

The Seinfeld Blog (The blog about nothing)

Good morning ya'all!

I thought I would get an early start this AM.

If you have not been to sheli's sight, go and look at this nastyness. Warning: swallow anything you may have in your mouth, before clicking on that link.

I keep getting this e-mail. "Christian Dating Service". Dam those Christian's, I thought it was only the Mormon's that practiced poligamy. Now the Cristian's are trying to get me to take on a second husband? Ugh! (Just kidding for all you Christians and Mormons out there, its coo, you go ahead and do ya own thang and I'll do mine...mmmmkay?)

I think I have Maine-itis. It's Friday and I find myself day dreaming of hopping in my caw at 5:00 to drive up to the land of peace and serenity for the weekend.

In other news my kitten, she loves me again! She has been ignoring me, and cuddling up with Hubbychong lately. Dam rebeloius teenagers! But last night she crawled up, and maneuvered her way under my arm. I woke up this morning to find myself clutching her like a little girl sleeping with her favorite stuffed animal. She's lucky she came back to me or she might have found herself stuffed too! Because I am mean like that.

This weekend I have plans to scrap with Shelibells. No, we are not meeting at the back of the bar at closing time to duke it out. (She would kick my ass!) We are going to scrap book, of which I know nothing. I do however have a degree in graphic design, so I am hoping this will help! I have a shoe box full of pictures that I need to do something with, and Sheli has been on my ass about scrapping with her so I am gonna give it a try.

Holy shit, Tina Loiuse (Ginger/Gilligan's Island) is 71 today. I always wanted to be her when I watched that show. All thin and pretty and sexy. She looked dam good for being stuck on a deserted island!

I don't mean to get all serious on your asses but, I just heard about the new born baby thats was THROWN from a car window in Florida. I feel sick. He was approximately one hour old. One fucking hour old! How can someone do this? How can you drive down the highway and throw your one hour old son from the car window? I will never unstand this. I mean even if you do not want or can not keep the child....jeezus.....bring him to a safe place, put him up for adoption, something. I cried for this little boy. I wanted to get on a plane and go get him. I wanted to give him the love and encouragement he deserves. What an awful way to start life. If the parents of this boy read me, "YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF, WHAT IF YOUR PARENTS THRU YOU FROM A FREAKIN CAR WINDOW? HOW WOULD YOU LIKE THAT?...HUH?"

I drive by a Honey Dew donuts on my way to work. For the past few weeks, their sign, has been catching my eye. Try a delicious cup of White Chocolate Snowflake Coffee. This morning I decided to treat myself and get a cup. Well doncha know, I get up to the voice box and place my order. And the squeaky little teeny-bopper voice says ma'am, (she fucking called me ma'am!?), that was last months special. Well missy, it's still up on the dam sign! So then I was a blubbering idiot, because I am not a regular honey dew patron so I didn't know what to order. Dork.

On that note people, I have bored you enough, I am outta here!

Happy Weekend!

Thursday, February 10, 2005

Trust me, don't do it!

Advice for my male readers:

Never ask a woman when her PMS will end, please for your own safety. Luckily for my husband, we were on the phone. If we were not I would have thrown something at him. Something heavy and solid, like a frying pan or a bowling ball.

You think it's bad for you because we are cranky? You have no idea what it feels like to exist with-in the PMS. To be trapped for days, in a world of bloated, crankiness, where your clothes suddenly don't fit and your only happiness is to consume massive amounts of chocolate.

I feel like the bluberry girl on Willy Wonka! Only there are no umpa lumpa's to roll me away. I am extra tired and it really doesn't matter how much sleep I got the night before. I am exhausted as soon as my eyes open in the morning. My back hurts, I have cramps and a dam headache. I have zero tolerance for any stupidness. So don't fuck with me. I don't even like myself right now, so don't expect me to like you! And please no fucking whining about it either. I was made this way so I could bare your freakin kids dam it. Just DEAL WITH IT!

Happy Fucking Thursday!

Wednesday, February 09, 2005

The Dooce is Loose!

OH MY!!!

Dooce is going to be onTV tonight. I can not freakin believe it. I am so excited. Don't ask me why. It's just I guess I feel like I KNOW her (LAME).

I mean, I know things about her pregnancy and personal issues that no "stranger" should know right? I mean, I know she has a bowel problem and I know she used cabbage to soothe her post-breast feeding boobs. I mean I know her. Umm, but sadly she doesn't know me. Although I did send her a doggie IQ test a while back. You know so she could test Chuck's IQ? I wonder how that went. My family thought I was nuts when I bought it.

At the store my husband saw me put it on the conveyer belt, and he reminded me we DO NOT HAVE A DOG! I replyed with, "I know I am gonna test the kids". You should have seen the horrified look on his face, not to mention the look on the cashier's! And again when I got home my daughter took it out of the bag and she reminded me about the lacka-dog-itis. I told her it was pre SAT testing for her. My family thinks I am nuts. Can you blame them?

Happy "Dooce is gonna be on TV" Day!

Monday, February 07, 2005


We went to Maine this weekend. Do I have any readers that live in Maine? Holla back ya'all!

Maine is like another planet to me. Things are so different there. People are nice. Stores are strange. It's like the twilight zone.

Beer is the number one beverage. They sell beer EVERYWHERE. And when I say everywhere I mean that. The gas station, beer. The grocery store, beer. The dollar store, beer. The pharmacy, beer. Its just strange to walk into a grocery store and see beer for sale. Hubbychong and I stood there and stared at the display, with our mouths agape, like it was the lost city of Atlantis. The cashier must have said, "Damn tourists!"

We walked out of Brother Bear's house at 7 am, in search of a Dunkin Donuts, and there was a woman sitting on the porch across the street enjoying a morning cigarette and beverage. It was beer. A bottle of freakin beer at that time of the morning. She said, mornin ya'all, and raised her beer bottle in a neighborly salute. Brother Bear says this is the norm. At least in his neighborhood.

Some of the stores have strange combinations of merchandise. We got gas at a combo gas station and fish market. I could have said, "Fill-er up and give me 2 Salmon fillets and a lobster please. There is a combo, laundry mat and video store. Wash your skivios and rent your videos, all in one stop!

And then at the corner is Flip's. Flip's is a variety store, owned by Flip, of course. And when I say variety, I mean variety with a capital V. You can buy anything at Flip's. You can get alcohol, a bag of chips and a new vaccuum.Ya know in case you get drunk and make a mess with your chips you can vaccuum that shit up. Or you can choose to purchase a Nintendo Game System for the kids, a freshly made meatball sub for the husband and a new pair of shoes for yourself. Personally, I like the porn video, macheti, red sox t-shirt combination, oh and maybe some baby wipes.

I heart Maine!

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

The Earth wobbles on its axis

I have read that the Earth is now wobbling on its axis do to the severity of the earth quake that caused the Tsunami. I believe it!

Strange things are happening in troll-ville and I think it is being caused by the wobble. And you thought this was going to be a serious post...HA!

Yesterday at 7pm there was a knock on my back door. No one uses my back door but the trolls. They climb out of their little hole in the ground, ascend the deck stairs and then claw their way up another flight to my door.

My son opened the door. And there with a big smile on her face was the She-troll. And in her hands was a ziploc-ware bowl of soup. (My thoughts will be in italic from here on out She wants to poison us)

I think she may have been on coke or some mood enhancing drug. (disclaimer-not that there is anything wrong with mood enhancing drugs for medicinal purposes)

She bopped around my house all smiley telling me how she made too much soup, and how beautiful my apartment is, (ummm, no it is a mess right now) and the last people that lived here were slobs and when ever she came upstairs (you mean they let you visit?) she had to climb over piles of junk on the floor. She cleaned the house once for the girl, and she had to send the kids upstairs because they kept making messes (yea ok). And the girl cryed because the house looked so nice when she was done. (ummmm, sure she did) She kept walking from one room to another telling me how lovely it was (what are you snooping for?) She checked out the "in progress" floor repair. She spoke to my children, nicely (she is really up to no good)

I don't know what to make of this. I know I am cynical, I would like to believe that she WAS just being nice. Evidence to the contrary is overwhelming. My fragile psychy finds it impossible to fathom. Circuits over loading.

We have lived here for 2 years. The trolls have never been friendly with us. The last time I spoke with her was around Thanksgiving and she was knocking on my door at midnight to use the phone to call the police on the He-troll. Who followed her upstairs and banged on my door too, wanting to come in. (Did he think I was nuts?) Anyway, SHE got arrested that night, and I promptly told Skankie Frankie of their escapades. (For those of you who don't know who he is, he is the slum lord)

The time I spoke with her before that was in August and I was not nice. My children where in the back yard playing and she had a tomato plant growing there. I was checking on them continuously, to make sure they were being good and not getting into mischeif. I am responsible like that. So one time when I looked out the window, they were kinda close to the plant so I told them to make sure they didn't go to close, and it wasn't ours, respect other peoples things and blah blah blah. 1.6 seconds after I stopped talking, she growled, "don't you fucking touch that plant". I felt a flash of heat zoom from my feet to the very ends of the hair on my head. And I told her like it was.

I said out the window, "I already asked them to move away from your plant. Don't you EVER swear at my kids again, cuz I will fly down to that cellar and beat your ass so fast, you can not even imagine. And then there was silence. Total silence, not even a bird dare to chirp at that moment in time. I called my bambinos upstairs for lunch and that was the end of that.

So you see, I really think she is up to something. And the soup? Pfft, it was flushed!

Happy Puxatoni Phil Gwound Hog Six More Weeks of Winter Day!

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

Kissing the neighbor

My little ones and I have a "goodbye kisses" routine. The school bus picks them up at the corner of my street and another street. They get on the bus and find their seats, then we wave goodbye and blow each other kisses until we are out of sight of each other. This has been our routine for about 2 years now.

Recently, we got a new bus driver. He prefers to pick the kids up right in front of the house. Which we LOVE, especially THIS winter. We are usually standing on the front porch when he rounds the corner.

One morning we got up late. I rushed to get the kids ready, knowing I know longer had to walk to the corner to catch the bus, I stayed in my jammies. The bus came and I sent my bambinos outside while I watched from the open window of our second floor apartment. They got on the bus and took their seats. The bus started to move on its way and we started waving and blowing kisses. as usual. As the end of the bus passed my neighbors driveway, across the street from me, I could see my neighbor was standing there. She was looking up at me, waving, with a very strange, shocked look on her face. She must have thought I was waving (and blowing kisses?) at her. Thank goodness she didn't blow a kiss back to me! I think her husband gave me a dirty look yesterday too!