RaNdOm FuCk YoUs.

Faauuccckkk it.

Seriously. Fuck it all.

It's one of those moods.

Not a PMS mood. Since I have been on Mirana I don't get moods.

I am just permantly in one. (or so I've been told)

Let start a list of "fuck you's"

Fuck you to the girl at the video store for calling Spaghetti to ask him to cover for you. He is a nice and WAY to easy, you know he will cover your shift. Sure 7-9, OH but wait, now it's till 10:30? You suck. Way to use people. Bitch.

The nutsack from Sprint who left me a voicemail to tell me there will be a $15 charge for my internet usage? AND then I call back wait for 15 minutes. AND you can't help me because it's got a secret code I don't fucking know. Faaauuuccckk you.

To the big glass of milk I had. You make my tummy hurt.

To the waffles that I had for breakfast you took up 5 of my 20 Weight Watchers points!*

To the buttfucking people who think that working mom's do my Stay At Home Mom Job AND their job as a working mom. Umm... No you don't. Not that working mom's don't work hard. They do. BUT someone is taking care of their kids while they work. Right? So like a daycare? school? Yes that is what I do. I am daycare. GOD that is FUCKING annoying!! I WORK just as hard if not harder. I don't get to commute ANYfucking where. Sure traffic sucks, but at least you get to sit in the fucking car. Maybe I should go back the car out of the garage sit in the driveway for 30 minutes listening to music, then pull into the garage to go to work. Ha. And when do I get breaks? Lunch? No? Pay? Alright then. Like I thought. NO you don't do your "job" and mine too. You do your "job" and you come home to be a mom. I never leave momland.

Moving on.

My empathy levels are low. I am usually pretty empathetic. I have a skill of listening and understanding for people even if I haven't been in their shoes, I try. But when I am tired, over worked and under apreciated, I have NO empathy for the lazy, bull headed, and whiney adults who just bitch about them selves. And their shitty situations. Boo fucking hoo. I have bills. I have issues. I have drama. I have days where I just want to hide (but the kids think it's hide and seek and keep finding me!!) sure I chill, but seriously. People need to fucking suck up life, put on there big girl and boy pants and do adult stuff. Gag. I hate doing adult stuff, or being an adult. But fuck an A. Just move on already!!

Moving on.

Fuck the fact that I have class tomorrow, STILL not ready, and this is the class I was going to have last week but the ice storm bumped it a week. Yes I procrastinate like the best of them. Still have to come up with 3 more cards, and set up the room. Faaaccckkk.

As alway a big fuck you to the laundry. I am getting a handle on this. Fuck yes I am. If you know me, or this retarded blog, you know laundry is the root of all evil. I think it's shitty. But after years of having knee deep laundry to sort through (not kidding) I am almost caught up. As in a few loads left. I need to keep up with the few loads left, this was my old issue, I would get to this point. Where I have just a few loads left, then I would stop for 3 or 4 days, and end up with 8 or more loads, and just fall behind. I am on this bitches. Fuck laundry and it's shitty self.

Spaghetti told me I was bitchy with out so much honesty. He called it Bitter. I find it safe to assume that if I were to translate "Your bitter ALL the time. To everyone"  that it would be "Your a mean bitch"

Alright sure. I have a SHIT load of resposibilities. I have ALL the housework, ALL the animal care, ALL the child care, ALL the appointments, ALL the bills, medical and budget, ALL the meal planning, ALL the laundry. Sure you work 60 hours a week. Your grumpy and sleepy, and I'm just bitchy. Sounds like every other middle class family right? Riiiiight. So at first I was all "back the fuck off, what do you expect me to be? I bust my nuts around here with out even a fucking thanks mom your swell, or a jeez honey I'll wipe the kids butt. But I thought about it. And I appologized for being so "bitter" twards everyone. So know I will just be the happiest cabin fever over worked SAHM I could be, all with a fucking smile on my bitter face. Eat. me.

Fuck the Ancestory sites for wanting $299 a year for the site fee! Holy shit!! That is a TON of money. SO I will use you for your 14 day free trial. Milking you of all the information I can. I get you have great info, but SHIT $299 a year? Faaauuck you!

This is one of those weeks I just want to slather myself in Tinkerbell cake and feed myself to my neighbors dogs.

(how is this not one of the cutest boxers ever? Her name is Bailey, aka Bales. she has a sister too...)

Jesse. I think covering myself in Tinkerbell cake and feeding myself to the dogs would be fucking fun. Gross but fun. I really just needed a reason to post these 6 month old pictures on here.

*I have started Weight Watchers. Thanks to my friend D. Pimpster Mudd, she had the books. I can't afford to attend or pay them. But I will steal there starvation method point system and give it a go. I get 20 points. I used 23 today. I know. I'm new at it. My math is rusty too... thats all the excuses I have for now. Oh and my Lose it bitch weight in? I am 136.5. Boo motherfucker I am up 2 lbs. Suck it.

My OCD letter to you

Spaghetti worked night shift at the casino from November 2005 until June of 2009. It was 4 1/2 years. LONG years.

He started night shift right when I was pregnant with Bagel, his shift starting at 10 pm, and ending at 6 am. It wasn't a horrible shift to say, for the fact that we could still attend events, get togethers, whatever. He just got alot less sleep then everyone else.

Spaghetti and I worked things out, so he worked the Casino at night, and picked up the Video store durring the day. Durring the baseball season, he works at Wrigley Field in Chicago. All this so I could stay home with Bagel.

Soon after Bagel we decided to try for Weaky, very lucky to get pregnant so fast we had two kids, 22 months apart (to some that is INSANLY close in age, but for others they fit three kids in that time span!)

April through September is Baseball season, in which Spaghetti was gone a good part of the time, the bit he was home, he was passed out from exhaustion.

I always was good with being OCD on door locks. Car doors, house doors, even bedroom doors. But when Spagehtti started to work nights I went into major OCD, but when he had the combination of Wrigley, nights at the Casino and the other few hours a week at the Video store, I became officially OCD on door locks.

Toss in two small kids. And I became a full fledged freak. Now I've never been diagnosed with OCDness but I may fall into some sort of catagory.

I thought my OCD craziness was going away. Since it has been 6 months of Spaghetti on his wonderful day shift. Ah 6 am is a bit early but 2 pm is SO nice to have him home. And knowing that no matter the jobs he works he would be home with me at night.

Until tonight. Kind of random, but he hasn't closed the Video store (which is open till midnight!) in those 6 months. And so I am tired, and I have come to realize that I have found lots of mindless things to do to keep myself away at almost 12 am!

I am exhaused but I have gotten up twice to check the doors. And again now to check the windows. I have been SO spoiled by Spaghetti being home by my side each night for these past 6 months that I forgot how OCD I get over the safety of myself and the kids.

I checked the back door, the lock the bar in the door. I checked the kitchen and pool room windows. I checked the front room, front door and screen door. I locked the inside garage door and then after locking it all up. I unlock it and look back into the garage to make sure the garage door is down. Then relock everything again.

Hope Spaghetti will be home soon, it's almost midnight, and my typing is driving me nuts. I am typing most the wrods like that. WORDS. I'm pooped, maybe if I watch t.v. in bed.

Good night blog land.

Feisty

I passed Cranberry sauce through my nose

This story never gets old.. hope you enjoy... and piss your pants like I did...

As a joke, my brother Jay used to hang a pair of panty hose over his fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fill them.


What they say about Santa checking the list twice must be true because every Christmas morning, although Jay's kids' stockings overflowed, his poor pantyhose hung sadly empty.

One year I decided to make his dream come true. I put on sunglasses and went in search of an inflatable love doll. They don't sell those things at Wal-Mart. I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown.

If you've never been in an X-rated store, don't go, you'll only confuse yourself. I was there an hour saying things like, 'What does this do?' 'You're kidding me!' 'Who would buy that?'

Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section. I wanted to buy a standard, uncomplicated doll that could also substitute as a passenger in my truck so I could use the car pool lane during rush hour.

Finding what I wanted was difficult. 'Love Dolls' come in many different models. The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do things I'd only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I settled for 'Lovable Louise.' She was at the bottom of the price scale.

To call Louise a 'doll' took a huge leap of imagination.

On Christmas Eve and with the help of an old bicycle pump, Louise came to life. My sister-in-law was in on the plan and let me in during the wee morning hours. Long after Santa had come and gone, I filled the dangling pantyhose with Louise's pliant legs and bottom. I also ate some cookies and drank what remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray. I went home, and giggled for a couple of hours.

The next morning my brother called to say that Santa had been to his house and left a present that had made him VERY happy, but had left the dog confused. She would bark, start to walk away, then come back and bark some more.

We all agreed that Louise should remain in her pantyhose so the rest of the family could admire her when they came over for the traditional Christmas dinner.

My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in the door..

'What the hell is that?' she asked.

My brother quickly explained, 'It's a doll.'

'Who would play with something like that?' Granny snapped.

I kept my mouth shut. '

Where are her clothes?' Granny continued.

'Boy, that turkey sure smells nice, Gran,' Jay said, to steer her into the dining room.

But Granny was relentless.

'Why doesn't she have any teeth?'

Again, I could have answered, but why would I?

It was Christmas and no one wanted to ride in the back of the ambulance saying, 'Hang on Granny, hang on!'

My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to me and said, 'Hey, who's the naked gal by the fireplace?' I told him she was Jay's friend. A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa by the mantel, talking to Louise. Not just talking, but actually flirting. It was then that we realized this might be Grandpa's last Christmas at home.

The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died, who was dying, and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise made a noise like my father in the bathroom in the morning. Then she lurched from the mantel, flew around the room twice, and fell in a heap in front of the sofa.

The cat screamed.

I passed cranberry sauce through my nose, and Grandpa ran across the room, fell to his knees, and began administering mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

My brother fell back over his chair and wet his pants.

Granny threw down her napkin, stomped out of the room, and sat in the car.

It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember. Later in my brother's garage, we conducted a thorough examination to decide the cause of Louise's collapse. We discovered that Louise had suffered from a hot ember to the back of her right thigh. Fortunately, thanks to a wonder drug called duct tape, we restored her to perfect health..

I can't wait until next Christmas.

I find happy in the joy of a pillow pet and a ball pit.

Here's my Merry...

One 20 month old who loves his new Cars ball pit...

And one 3 1/2 year old who is in LOVE with her Purple Hungry Hippo Pillow Pet!

Those are the two things that makes me the merriest, happiest, and the most proud. That I was able to find that gift that made my kids SO happy.

We didn't go to overboard, we know that even though they don't want to, Gramma and Grampa Mc, and Gigi and Papa and Aunt Susie will for us.

I was smart to remove ALL the toys from the from toy room, we can EASILY fill it with Christmas.

I am happy with what I got, the new Dan Brown book, The Lost Symbol from Spaghetti. I got him two gift cards. (iTunes and Cold Stone) Not alot, but when you are close to broke, I would rather give it to the kids.

If you know me you know I am not religious (no I don't want a debate on it) so the whole CHRISTmas thing is just a word to me. I say it to those I know like to hear it, and I say "Have a good Holiday" to everyone else.

Jesus is not the reason for my season, not even close. My kids, my husband, my parents, sister, and In Law's Mc are the reason. My best friend Aerial, and extended family. That is my reason. To remind everyone that we love them, and to buy presents because we care.

To take care of someone who is less fortunate, and to be a bit more kind to those around us. That is what Christmas is all about to me. If your reason is Jesus good for you. Just understand he is not my reason. (BTW the Queen got me a God book for moms. Really? What am I going to do with it? She knows where I stand on this. Not amused. Not. Amused.)

It doesn't make me a bad person. I'm not going to hell for it either. I have good morals, and a happy spirit about myself. So Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and to whatever you do or don't celebrate, may it be merry and safe.

And now it's late, I have had many days of celebrating this Holiday in a row (5 to be exact) so I am going to end this ramble on the note that I love the Pooh hoodie I am in from my the Queen and Carrots, and I LOVE the coffee pot that Frances got me. All set up and ready!

Good Night Blogger. Merry Whatever to you and yours.

Peace out.

QuEeN oF fEiStY

Total Random Thursday

I still have NO idea where the damn spell check is on the new updated "new post" is. So suck it if my grammer freaks you out.

I just freaked out because I need to start getting shit together for Bagel so I can register her for Preschool in February. (for September)

I was sad to have to put back so much of what Spaghetti wanted to buy for Christmas for the kids and me. We just really don't have the money. And we don't want to put Christmas on credit cards.

I have been enjoying carbs, caffine, and all things bad for me. January 1st is going to suck. But come 35 lbs less will be nice. I hate being fat.

I find it amusing that my children seem to favor me over most everyone else (I know I'm mommy) but I yell so much, you would think that daddy would be the favored one, he seems more fun then me.

I can't wait for the new season of Real World DC coming on December 30th! But before that is next Wednesday and I get to see "The Shit they didn't show you" for the RW/RR challange that just ended.

Speaking of t.v. show, I am STOKED that Feb 2nd 2010 will be the start of LOST! Hoo-fucking-ray! I had better get ALOT of answers!

I think when I leave comments on blogs, I leave looong comments. But I would rather leave a good comment then none at all.

I wonder if you realize that I can monitor everyone who visits me here, and I know you LURK me. Leave me a comment. It's fucking creepy that you don't. I know some of you do, sometimes. But shit some of you NEVER comment. EVER. Weirdos.

I may have no readers now. Oh well. Moving on.

I still hate laundry. Still don't have a handle on it. Still wish we lived in a nudist colony.

My MIL took me Xmas shopping for clothes and shoes. I am happy. I was in denial. I didn't want new clothes till I lost my 35 lbs. Well unless I wear maternity clothes, I am too big and muffin toppy to wear my regular clothes, SO I fnally woke up and realized I needed clothes for now.

Sometimes I stand back and look at my life. And get freaked out that I am a MOM. Hell I was freaked that I was a wife for a while. I love it. But it's crazy, you spend 20 years wondering who will love you, and all of a sudden your married 8 1/2 years with 2 kids, a house and dogs cats... kinda crazy.

Remind me NOT to hack off all my hair again. Damnit. I love it short short, or long. This mid hair shit sucks.

I'm tired. I can tell because when I type the word "and" keeps coming out as "nad"

My knee hurts too. Maybe if I lost all this weight my knee and back wouldn't be crying each night. I have no mercy for my fat ass.

Alright, the end of the babble. Night.

MY driving rules.

If you choose to drive where I am driving I ask kindly that you go by MY rules. Enjoy.


Highway. I am a left laner. Sometimes a mid laner. NEVER a right laner (unless my exit is 3/4 of a mile away) Here are my Highway rules

• If I am in the mid lane, it is usally because I am moving over for some psycho that is going WAY faster then me (speed limit 65, I go about 72-74 some freakshows go about 90)
• DO NOT ride my ass. I WILL NOT move over. WHEN you back off, I will move over. RIDING my ass will only infuriate me, because I almost always have my kids on board (and NO I don't have one of those stupid yellow signs, sorry if you do) and now you've struck the "PROTECT CHILDREN FREAK MODE IN ME" so back the fuck off. Thankyou.
• Role reversal. IF you are in the left lane and you see (you should notice cars behind you, which I notice that SO many people do not) me coming up behind you, at a MUCH fast pace then you. Realize you do NOT belong in my lane. Move over. I won't ride your ass, but I will be right here waiting. Don't make me do the right lane pass, I really hate doing that.
• Right lane passing. Alright so I'm a hypocrite on this one. I only do it if you suck ass, and are going 60 in my left lane, and the whole rest of the free world has passed you on the right I too must move on with my life.
• Hypocrite me. Right lane passing of me is fine, if I'm doing my 73 mph and your going 102 mph and need to swerve around me because your going SO fast that I am practially at a stand still. Sure. BUT if you see that I am putting on my blinker. PLEASE note, I will move my car OVER asap. Ride my ass, and it takes me a good 20 seconds of blinker to even consider moving over.
• Merging. Oh for fucks sake this one BLOWS my mind. (this next point is spoken as if I was talking to a 5 year old) IF you see an exit coming up. NOTE that cars are coming ONTO the highway. Possibly me. NOTE that I only get a small window of oppertunity to get onto the highway. MOVE THE FUCK OVER RETARDS. Jesus flying fucking Christ. The people who don't move over for merging on highway drivers makes me want the invisable hand gernades to just blow them off the map.
• Speeders again. Yes again, I know I drive fast, but again some go faster. AND if I am in the left lane, and I am not going to your choice speed. Understand the BIG semi to my right is there and NO I will not floor it to let you pass me. You will enjoy MY speed of choice until we safely pass the big truck then I shall move over. Unless your a douche bag and choose to psychoticly right lane pass me the second I pass the semi. Well then go fuck yourself.
• Children in my car. There are rules. NO screaming. Especially that high pictched who can scream the loudest shit either. Also no throwing shit at me, or whining. Children are lovely, but should be happy, silent, or asleep at all times in the car.
• Passengers. Unless you have some greater knowledge then I do please STFU. I don't care if you think there is a better way. My little hands are on the wheel, and I am the boss. Please do your job, and entertain my small monkey children.
• My middle finger is used when needed. My mother hates it, my husband hates it. And I don't care. It's my right to show people I care, and when your #1 in my driving book. I show it. Proud. I'm not a timid finger giver. There is FULL effort for you to notice. Isn't that what the sunroof is for?
• Non-highway rules. God I HATE driving in towns, suburbia, whatever. Drive at LEAST the damn speed. If it's 45 on a busy 4 lane road, for fucks sake, go home if you can't do at least 45. I am VERY good at going 25 in subdivisions. Not kidding. I know kids don't pay attention, like my neigbor who lets her kid wander the street. We live on a curve. It's creepy.
• I HATE people who get mad at me for talking on the phone and driving. Most times it's the only time I can talk. No kids in the car? Probably a phone to my ear. Blow me, I CAN drive and talk. But there are some nut sacks who shouldn't. You need good driving skills to do this. Texting should be illegal while driving. THAT is insane.
• Speaking of good driving skills. Understand that while driving the fact that you have skill isn't that you know all the rules of the road. It's that you have confidence. Now don't get that mixed up with cockiness. That is different. I am confident that I watch myself, the people next to me, the guy in front, and behind me. PLUS I pay attention to the 3 cars ahead and behind them. WHY? Because it's good for you. Because you need to learn to guess what EVERYONE else is going to do. When we are all wizzing along at 75 mph I need to make sure you butt fucks are on game. If you even swerve a bit, I watch you more, If your flying like a bat out of hell (I SO love to say that) I try to get out of your insane way, if you suck and are slower then me crawling, then I watch you and attempt to get away from you. It's all a method of skills, and being confident that I can navigate, all while making the right moves to get on with my journey with the least ammount of finger giving.
• AND last but not least lets talk about bikes. Sigh. I don't like you. I have lost 2 close friends of the family due to poor driving skills. If you ride a bike, I don't care if it's a crotch rocket or a big ass harley. If you are NOT wearing a helmet you can go fuck yourself. You are a speedbump that I don't want to deal with. Your stupid for driving 70 mph on a bike and no helmet?!? Whatever, I hope to god I don't hit you, because I will have your mess all over my car, I am assuming you will cause damage to my car, AND I will have to deal with your mess. AND bet my ass if you one of those chodes that cuts me off, with no helmet, I will feel NO remorse for running you over. Your stupid. And a waste of air as it is.
• If you are a bike rider. If you wear a helmet. If you attmpt to go a decent speed. Good for you. I wish you a safe trip. Please don't drive by me. I have confidence. But your just not ment for my SUV and the big semi's around here.

Alright, it's late, I have been wanting to post on my driving rules forever now. Add your own in the comment section. Or just keep lurking like you have been. And yes it's still creepy that you lurk.

Home from Vaca. Here's your post. I'm going to drown myself in a bath tub. AKA Leavemealonetime.

Ewww... Cheetos

This is my fantastic sister. We call her Francis. This is a fun picture. She is eating one of her favorite foods, cheetos.

I have to say if your around Francis you have a great deal of empathy for her, (if your new around here go here and check out her story,) since she has such an impossible time eating because of her disorder.

NOW if your her sister. And that would be me. My job is to give her a hard time no matter what.
Don't get your "I Love Disabled People" bumper stickers in a bunch. I must say it was because of what we did prior to the eating of the cheetos that made this picture funny for us. Well more so funny for me then her.(and with out explaination, my parents and husband were completly baffled as to why I was pointing and giggling at my sister for eating cheetos, they just chalk it up to my random behavior. Or my giddy love for the Zoo)

So if you must know, and I won't keep you waiting any longer...

Francis and I were petting the sting rays. Over at the Sting Ray Bay. So we pet them, we even had a cool moment where we both held a big piece of shrimp and had a HUGE mother fucker of a sting ray come over and suck our hands till we sqeeled and let go of the shrimp, let me tell you it was awesome, yet terrifying to be sucked by a sting ray.

So then after our forever bonding sting ray shrimp sucking moment, we go to leave, well Francis is too cool for school and didn't want to wash her hands. I tell her she's gross, scrub up to my elbows (I had a 15 month old Bagel at the time and was a new mom with OCD issues) and we head over to mee the rest of the family. So we are walking along, and Francis goes into her back pack to get out some nummy cheetos.

She starts to eat them (you do see where I'm going with this right?) After Francis makes a dent in the bag, and is all orange fingered, I point to her and say. Did it ever dawn on you that you are eating sting ray cheetos?!? And I laugh. Then she laughs, spits out some cheetos, then we laugh some more. It's gross, but it's one of those moments, that makes me smile each time I see cheetos. Sting rays. Or Francis at the Zoo.

A note to the spider.

Dear Spider,

In a weird way I love you. Even though you all of your kind send a chill down my spine. I have come to terms that you love it here. And the fact that many orb weavers and wolf spiders call my home theirs, is ok. AS long as it is the OUT.SIDE. of my home.

No the garage doesn't count and I don't care if it's cold or rainy out. AND the basement is SO off limits. That is either the t.v. room, or my art room, even though I have had the pleasure of sitting at my art desk and on 3 occasions had my cat bring me a dead spider (I take that back, once it was a fly)SO again. No go there either.

Now I have to explain the point of my ode to the house hold spider.

This is I am SURE of what I will hear for the next few weeks...

Bagel will say...

Once upon a time. I was sleeping behind my bedroom door,

because GOD forbid I sleep in my bed. I have slept behind the door around the little corner area for about 8 months. Can we say big bed WAY to early?!?

and all of a sudden I started to POUND on my bedroom door,

as if a 20 foot 7000 lb tarantula was going to eat me, and mommy raced to safe me, or count to ten and try not to freak out because it's 10:30 at night, and Bagel is being a bad, bad girl...

because there was a BIG spider right by my head!! And so mommy came to save me!

The end.

Mommy loves this story, and this spider (who is dead now) but I was able to use that to tell her that spiders live in that corner behind her door. And that she should sleep in her big girl bed and she will be safe.

We have stuffed animals of all kinds on watch tonight for all bugs. The are told to destroy at first glance. Bagel is tucked into her bed, head covered, small blue eyes and little blonde bangs peeking out.

I am maybe a bit early and jinxing myself here. But I can only hope that the help of a spider will get that kid to sleep in her damn bed. (don't get me wrong there are WAY other concerns for parents out there, but this is mine. And it's getting to be a pet peeve)

Thanks spider. But stay off her bed, because I am SO screwed if you fuckers show up there...

We have to talk.

Slump.

That is what I am in. The past few months.

I am not happy. I am not sad. I am just here.

I am oversensitive. I am touchy. I don't want to talk to anyone.

(please don't be offended if I don't call or pick up the phone)

I am just blah.

It took alot for me to start Stamp Camps again, but business wise I had to keep it going.

I have the time, to clean, play, organize, and do all the things I need to and should do.

Just don't want to.

I freaked Spaghetti out the other day. I was all weird and rambly. Not the normal rambly and giddy. More like rambly and weird. Not the normal weird and rambly. Um... I was just not me.

And he could tell over the phone. The kids were fine. Napping in their beds. I was just sitting in my art room. Just sitting.

But this is not every day. Maybe a day a week. Maybe more, maybe less. depends.

Am I depressed? I don't have a good reason. I have a home, beautiful kids, great husband, good friends, and a happy life. But I just don't seem to want to do ANY thing. AT all.

Nope.

It took me days to even post this here.

What is wrong with me? I had post partum. But this isn't it. Its not that I am freaking about the kids. I can do that and I do a great job of it.

Its just when they are settled, either sleeping or playing, and that is my time to clean or do ANYTHING I just don't. I do have the want or the need to do anything.

And it's not that I am lazy, in the back of my head I am screaming "CLEAN THIS HOUSE! FOLD THE LAUNDRY! WORK ON YOUR BUSINESS PAPERS! COOK DINNER!"

But I don't. I don't even want to watch t.v. or scrapbook, or play around online. Nope. No gardening, no nothing.

So where do I go from here? How do I get me back? Anyone? Anyone...

Lack of Bloxygen

I am realizing that with a vacation only hours away. That I will be internetless.


I will be away from my escape. My happy world of Facebook, and Blogger.


I will be forced to spend 5 days. With my two children, husband and his cousin and her husband.


I don't even have my pets as buffers.


I like my email. My constant connection with people I haven't seen in years. My love to get lost in the blog world of a random efriend.


5 days.


I don't have Internet on my cell phone. I don't even have a cell. I lost it 2 months ago. I use Spaghetti's phone. We use it to call. Only. No text, no Twitter, no Facebook.


Sigh.

What shall I do?


Tell me you will miss me too.


Muah.

Till Wednesday,

The Queen of Feisty.

Pity Party for one!

(Alright so this picture of Weaky in a fun inflatable crown, banging himself with a plastic rattle, has nothing to do with this post. Beside the simple fact that I would love to hide in an inflatable crown right now, and bang my head with a plastic rattle. Plus this is just too damn cute not to share right?)

Hi.

I'm still sick.

I cough. I gag. I wheeze. I sneeze. I pee. In my pants. 6 times today. Not cool.

Still have Stamp Camp tomorrow. Still working on projects. Should've done the work when I was healthy.

Which leads me to one of my favoritist quotes...

"Procrastination. It's a whole lot like Masturbation.

Seems like a really good idea in the beginning.

But in the end. Your just fucking yourself."

So that sums me up the past few days. Lethargic. Whiny. Unmotivated. Uncreative. And OH so much fun to be around.

Thanks again to Queen Mom for coming over today, not only did she entertain my kids, buy us yummy Culver's, help me prep and create for Stamp Camp, but she stole 3 bags of dirty laundry to take home. Clean and return to me tomorrow! Super Queen!

The other highlight of my day was from Face Book, alright I know, it's trendy. Damn, it's a shocker something that I am on that is trendy! (Blogger, Twitter, MySpace, FaceBook...) Anywho, my highlight of FaceBook for the week... my best friend in second grade... yes this was in addition to Maternal Mirth, Renee, D. Mudd Pimpster, there was Cindy R. she moved to Schaumburg in 1986.

So I randomly looked her up, and now we have connection! Magic of the internet! Wait till my kids are grown and I tell them about pens and paper, and how the telephone worked before texting or caller i.d.

(damn it. I just sneezed. Make that 7 times today.)

Alright this is a tired, sick, pity party for one. That is coming to an end. I would like to be in bed before double digits. 9:56 pm.

Gooo Nih.

Gag me with a purple polka dotted spatula backwards

Fuuuuuuuuucccckkkkkk meeeeeeeeee.

I am SO sick and SO tired.

I have one of those coughs, that is more like a dry heave, where you get all teary eyed, piss your pants EVERY TIME you cough, and you start to gag, the kids are confused...

oh but wait... there is joy in that little bottle of Vick's Vapor Rub, you rub some on the bottom of your foot, place a sock over it. Wala. Less coughing instantly, take some Tussin to top it off, and attempt to get the kids bathed, and fed.

THEN I get to go to the art room...

WHAT THE FUCK?!?! Seriously?!? I had to leave my blog to go have a coughing/gaging/piss my pants fit. Again.

Anywho, since I was rudely interrupted I put Weaky to bed. Fed Bagel, Sweet & Sour Chicken, for the first time.

I then had a coughing/gaging/piss in your pants fit. Again.

So I left Bagel to eat, ran to the bathroom to gag/cough/piss. I come out. Bagel obviously loves Sweet and Sour sauce more then the actual chicken. She is looking very Ompa Loompa ish right now. (Anyone know how to remove Sweet & Sour sauce from skin?)

Sigh...

I clean her up, take her up to bed, she wanted to play in the front room. NO way Jose. This mom is SO done. BUT Weaky is not done, I make him a PediaSure bottle and go BACK upstairs to get him BACK out of bed. So right now Weaky is in the pack-n-play drinking his nom, nom bottle.

I am sitting in my desk chair, hacking my lungs out, chugging water, sucking ColdEzz, wondering how I will make it down in the art room...

Sigh...

Yes the art room. I MUST go there. I know, I know, it is my happy place, but when I am sick I avoid it. I need happy energy to create. BUT I have a stamp camp for 8 customers on Wednesday night. We are making a cool home decor project, that will include twelve 6"x 6" sized scrapbook layouts (birthday, Christmas, Valentines...) Yeah... so far I have the Valentines one, the Halloween one, the Birthday one, and I am working on a Spring one... 4 done, 8 more to go...

Sigh...

If only I were swimming in a big pool with Spaghetti right now. That's right, it's a frosty 22 degrees out, but Spaghetti is in a nice 90 degree pool. Taking his Scuba Steve lessons. Tonight is the first one. I am SO happy for him. He SO deserves this.

Sigh...

But I am here. In my yellow moo moo night gown, with my water cup, runny eyes, lungs hacked out onto the big desktop.

Well I must stuff what is left of my lungs back down my throat, suck it up. Put Weaky BACK to bed, and go attempt to be creative for a few hours. (ok, I can't lie, that is not my lung. Sure as shit feels like it though. But that is mine... or was... it's my Placenta from Alex... cool, huh?)

(yes I pulled the "Mommy! Save me card" called my mama, she is coming over tomorrow, to help me with the kids, and I will be draining her creative mind for help. Let's hope on a miracle that I can get it all done tonight, and enjoy tomorrow with my mommy... doubtful I know)

Hope you all feel better then I do. I advise you to go take some Airborne, Emergen-C, Vitamins or whatever it is you take. Just reading this could make you sick. Lysol your eyes or something... or not, that would probably burn alot... yikes I'm rambling... gatta go.

Gnight.

Drunk Dialing from the Windy City. About butts, roofies, bald guys (not dad!) and Chewbacca

While preparing dinner tonight, I decide to call my bestest friend Aerial. She is on a fantabulous weekend with her sister (Happy Birthday Sarah!) they are staying at the "W" in Chicago, and just enjoying 2 nights and 3 days of getting away from it all.

I call Aerial to let her know that my message from yesterday about me dying from the flu, is over. I am all better now. (well for the most part) It was 8:30 at night...

We started out talking about my 24 hour flu, and how great it was that it was gone already, and how fun it is that I am kid free till tomorrow! Then the fun conversation begins...

Me: So tell me all about Chicago!

Aerial: Oh last night, we went to a club. Sarah had like 6 beers and 3 shots. And barely a buzz goin. So I went to the bartender, and I ask the lady for the strongest shot she has. She charged me $8 for this thing in a glass, never did get the name of it. And gave it to Sarah.

Sarah soon after could not feel her legs. She kept sayin' "Someone broke my legs! My legs are broken!" Soon after we went to the hotel.

Me: Nice so you gave your sister a roofie?

Aerial: OMG! No I did not roofie my sister.

(Sarah in background, hears this conversation) Sarah: OMG you so did roofie me!

Me: Let me make a personal note, for you not to go to the bar for my drinks.

Aerial: Oh, hold on. Sarah has to tell you something.

(shuffle noise, giggling, of Aerial handing the phone to Sarah)

Sarah: Hiiee!! How are you!!

Me: Awesome. Happy early Birthday! Besides your sister drugging you, sounds like your having a great time in the city!

Sarah: OMG, yeah she totally roofied me!! So I have to tell you Aerial got me a massage! I wanted the same guy I had last time we were here (November 08 for Aerial's birthday weekend) Aerial reserved him, but they gave me this other guy.

SO not the same! This guy had crazy hairy arms!

Me: Like they brushed on you as he massaged you?

Sarah: Ewwww! Yeah!

Me: (fueling the funny fire here...) Like Robin Williams arm hair?

Sarah: Oh Yeah! Robin Williams (so Aerial could hear) so this guy. He is massaging my butt! Then he is spreading my toes apart and sticking his fingers in and out! I was SO violated!! Then he was massaging my head, and he, not exaggerating, grabbed two handfuls of hair, and pulled hard!!

Me: Choke me, spank me, pull my hair?

Sarah: Aaaaaa!! No!! Ewww... anyway so Aerial was able to talk to the manager, just about the wrong guy part, and got me a free $150 massage and some lotions!

Me: Sound fun.

Sarah: Here's Aerial!

(wait again for more shuffling and giggling...)

Aerial: I wasn't ghetto when I talked to the manager. I was calm. That was how I got the free massage. I didn't want to get all ghetto on him. (it's funny to see this, because Aerial, is exactly that. Aerial. A very white, red head, who dresses nice and preppy. But if you cross her. Hood rat Aerial comes out!)

Me: Well done on being calm. I am sure ghetto would have maybe gotten you the lotion only.

Aerial: So a guy I work with, also drives a limo, if he is off duty around 9 we will get a free ride to dinner!

Me: Have fun with that, be careful, and I hope you get your limo ride! Bye!

2 hours later, I am sitting with my dogs rotting my brain to "I love money 2" on MTV when I get a phone call...

Aerial: I have... to tell you bout our night since I called you last... your awake right?

Me: Yes, amazing, I know after 10 pm and I am up! So tell me what trouble you two are into only after 2 hours...

Aerial: So my co-worker shows up, with a Lincoln! Drives us ALL over Chicago, with a bottle of champagne in there for us!!

We get to the restaurant, and we sit at the bar, the bartender is giving Sarah free drinks cuz its her birthday!

Me: Nice job Sarah!

Aerial: Well cuz now we are eating dinner...

Sarah in background: I will just eat half my food now, and hand feed it to myself later!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA...

Me: Did you just drunk dial me?

Aerial: OMG, I did. Tee hee. You know me and Sarah are like you and me, can't go anywhere with out....hold on.... (talks to bartender)....a story.... (whispering...)

So the bartender... are you there?!?

Me: Yep. Right here.

Aerial: SO the bartender just walked over to our table and offered Sarah free drinks for the night cuz her birthday (yes that is what she said. Maybe just a bit buzzed, so she skipped some words)

Me: Congrats on the free drinks. I am to assume that a cab will take you back?

Aerial: Here is Sarah again

(shuffle, giggle)

Sarah: So I miss your face... I do. When did I see you last?

Me: Who me? ummm... wow, it's been a while.

Sarah: Uh huh, and you've got a baby too!

Me: Yep, I have like 14 of them.

Sarah: Nooooo!

Me: Ok, only two.

Sarah: I know, it's been forever... when was the last time I saw your face?

Me: (knowing I can make Sarah laugh her ass off, and that she will loudly repeat what I am saying so her sister, and the whole restaurant can hear it I say...) The last time is when you came over and my dog Dong, totally busted Aerial for Sharfing in her pants.

Sarah: OH MY GOD! THAT TIME AERIAL SHIT HER PANTS!!

(it worked. Thank god Aerial is too buzzed to get pissed and is laughing her ass off)

Me: So I wanted again to ask you how your chewbacca massage was (chewbacca sound, yes I can make it, sort of) chewwy love Sarah.

Sarah: AAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!

Aerial: (back on the phone now) What did you tell her?

Me: I told her that chewbacca did the massage! (chewy noise again)

Aerial: hahahahahahhahaahahhaha!!!!

Me: I know I don't do it as well as Dong.

Aerail: OMG! Sarah! Feisty's dog, Dong, SO does the best Chewbacca noise. (then Aerail proceeds to make this high pitched gurgling sound. Not pretty. Not pretty at all. And I almost piss on my couch because of it.)

Aerial: Oh yeah. Oh the bartender has a bald head! I have to pet his head. Ohhh. I love bald heads. You remember, we were out once, and I was petting a guys bald head. (well. ummm. no.)

(Sarah now upset about her shirt and a drink...)

Aerial: Oh, Sarah, drink on her boobs... it's not so bad...

Me: Tell her to "accidentally" dump one when the bartender is feeding you guys drinks. Maybe you can get more.

Aerial: YEAH! I am so gunna rub his head tonight!! I love bald heads.

Sarah: (loudly in the background) Well dad has a bald head. Do you rub his head.

(crickets. more crickets. Buzz kill.)

Aerial: EWWWWWW! I just threw up a little! Your so gross!!

Sarah: (now realizing what she just said) EWWWW! That IS gross! Gag!!

Me: Well ladies this has been fun. Thank you for the drunk dial, if I squeeze my eyes shut tight enough I can pretend I am there. Go drink, have fun, rub bald heads, and be careful.

Aerial: OK! Good bye!!

Now as I am typing this (WAY past my bedtime) I get a phone call at 12:23 am. Yes my dearest BFF drunk dials me again. But more drunker.

Aerial: YOUR AWAKE! CAN YOU HEAR ME?!?

Me: (I can hear that they are in a loud place, must be the hotel bar) Yep, I am awake, and your loud and clear. What's new?

Aerial: I just touched a guys butt!!!!

Me: So are we talking, butt cheek? Butt hole? pants on? pants off?

Aerial: NO! Pants on and just his cheek!

Me: .... why?

Aerial: So you know I have a butt fetish, drunk and sober. And he was going to sit down and he SO put his ass right in my face. So I poked it.

Me: How did that work for you.

Aerial: Fine. I was going to do more, but Sarah didn't want a fight, he had a girl with him.

Me: Good idea. How did the bald bar rub go?

Aerial: OH YEAH! So we got a free drink, get this it was called.... "Sarah's Birthday Drink!" How cool is that!

(me trying to remember that she is drunk, and I am sure that every drink is someones birthday drink. But for the moment, I let them live in the glory that they beat the odds and had a "Sarah's Birthday Drink" on Sarah's birthday!)

Me: That is awesome! So now your at the hotel bar downstairs?

Aerial: Yep. Sarah went upstairs to charge her phone and come back. So I needed to call you and tell you about my butt story. Fun huh!

Me: Way fun. You know how I am about butts, I love to violate people!

Aerial: Ok, well it's late, you're probably going to bed soon. (I think trying to make sure I go to bed before they do) We're going to party down here, then up to bed! Sarah's having a great time! That's all that matters to me!!

Me: I am glad your both having fun! I will talk to you later!

Aerial: Byeeeee!!

So that was my drunk dial. Times 3. Thanks for letting me pretend I was in the city with you girls. Happy Birthday Sarah! Muah!!

Feisty

Piss in your 200th Post celebration!

200th post!

Yipiee.

Wahoo.

I am only bitter because this being my second blog (don't try to find it, I hid it) my original one "InSaNiTy At ItS bEsT" has over a thousand posts, so 200 posts is, well it's 200 posts to me.

I do see other bloggers getting very excited, and dedicating the 100th or 200th post to something special. Maybe because I have blogged 200 times in the past 3 months, makes 1000 or 2000 posts a bit more to celebrate.

But don't let me poop in your 200 post celebration, go to town. So I thought I would hop on the ol' bandwagon, and celebrate myself. Who doesn't love a party celebrating themselves?!

So here is your 200th post. It is 2 short stories, with lots of pictures, on a day around the Mc house, since we are in hibernation mode... enjoy...


De-Christmasing. Puppy and toddler style.
Ding has one end of the skinny silver garland... pulling with some one less then half her weight...

Bagel has the other end, with help from Dong...
All resulting in a game of tug of war, that ending with a decorated Ding. Who spun in mad circles chasing the shiny garland wrapped around her.

And yes the garland is still usable for next year!

Hibernation for two

Boxers are a sensitive kind. They don't like all this cold. They are not hunters with fur to keep them warm, the are workers, and enjoy the winter hibernation. And so the lower level (basement) is the puppy retreat here at the Mc's house...

Ding on her seat (Spaghetti's when he gets a chance)

Dong on her seat (mine when I shoe her away)


Resulting in two bookend boxers, hibernating in the basement T.V. room. There is also a whole nuther love seat combo like this on the other side of the room. But of coarse they must have ours.

Happy posting to you all. May you enjoy your 100th 200th or 500,000th post!

Post 200.

Random.

• I drink orange juice out of the carton. Not because I don't want to wash a glass, but it's a good reason, but because I am the only member of the house to drink it and I see that it is my own big sippy of o.j.
• When I am at the computer or in my art room, I put on a mother load of chapstick.
• I hate clothing hangers with all those damn little loops, and hooks on them. Fucking clothes get stuck. And for that matter I only use the plastic ones. NO wood, NO wire, and none of those clear plastic with the turning wire heads. Gah!
• I drink water all day. I like the taste. Bizarre I know.
• I think that cats are WAY more intelligent then dogs. Dogs are not dumb, just not as brilliant as my clever fuzzies.
• I hate having RLS, and carpel tunnel, but it could be way worse.

Random thoughts at 12:43 am

Twilight, AMA's and some random previews...

Yes I am here. Yes I have a shit load of blogs to post. But since Spaghetti has now worked 48 hours in less then 3 days time. I feel the need to spend time with him before he passes out.

Anywho, here is what I would like to blog on in the near future...

Crop Night 10 hours.
My Twilight Reviews. And the whole day to go with.
Spaghetti and his insane work load.
Mia ism's on snow.
Stick it.
Starbucks Gold.

I did catch the beginning of the AMA's tonight. Loved it. I cried like a 10 year old, or a 30 year old, at a NKOTB concert. It was great seeing them again! P!nk as always was phenomenal! I so didn't think that Sober was her next single, I was betting on Bad Influence, or Funhouse, maybe even Ava Marie A, does it matter? I love them all.

Excited that Rihanna and Chris Brown won! Saw some red carpet action too. Would have liked to see more, wished that Kid Rock would preform, and Britney, but I can't have it all!

Ok, nuff babbling, I must go see Spaghetti, we are watching Hancock with Will Smith, it's our pre-release freebie to review. More on that too.

Aiet... I'm out... oh but before I go, I must say.... I will own Twilight. I will see Twilight 1.8 zillion times. I love it. I love Edward. I love Bella. I love Alice. I can not wait for the next movie, I never want the story to end. "Team Edward!"

Lata,
Feisty

This is going to give me diarrhea...

yeah... it's 2:27 am... yeah, Bagel is just laying down... ummmm.... the schedule was kinda effed up today.

All up at 7 am

Nap at 3 pm (way late! Usually 1!)

Spike slept until 9 pm, just got Spaghetti ready for work... so I was up with him,

Fell asleep in Spikes rocker with him, till 11 pm, I was woken by Bagel calling me...

I was exhausted, so I set up myself and Bagel in the front t.v. room, I crashed on the couch...

Being woken for probably the zillionth time by "Appuu, Appuu, Mommy!! So I dragged my ass of the couch at 1:45 am and cut us up an apple to eat.

Called Spaghetti at work, Bagel wanted to tell him this... "Hi Daddy, Mommy's change my butt, then I go sweep. I got a treat (witch doll), and a cactus (cactus doll) oh and my monkey (monkey pillow) ok now, night Daddy" stares at phone, then makes ticky noise (she's tired)

Too cute, that was all one big sentence. Spaghetti said it made his night. Since the economy is in the hole, the casino business at 2 in the morning is a bit like watching paint dry.

So I of coarse notice that after 2 am here in the Central Time Zone, I can roll call for The Secret is in the Sauce!

Well, here's hopin' the tots sleep in. But it's highly doubtful, I have the coffee pot set to go at 8:45 and that is hoping we sleep in...

goo-night.

(Note to Maternal Mirth. You Heart Dong, and yes she still asks about the nice crazy lady who played ball at 2 am on the frosty deck, that by they way has snow on it.)

(and I am finishing this blog at 2:44 am, and Bagel is up crying... this is not fun. Not that any of you think it is... but... just so yaknow... I am going to go kennel the dogs, lock up, or go OCD and recheck the locks for the 30th time tonight, and hope that Bagel passes out before I come back up... well if I can't sleep there is always Breaking Dawn... over half way through it. LOVE IT! Can't wait till, Saturday at noon! My date with Frances, Aerial and Aerial's sister Lu... now I am babbling... blah, blah, blah... yeah, yeah, goo night again...)

(oh and if I don't sleep soon, the water I drank, and the jacked up schedule with make me get diarrhea... stupid I know... but nothing like falling asleep on the cold porcelain with a good book, and ring around the butt, just too fart a bunch... ya know...)

(must leave, computer, giving TMI...)