If I've done this right, here is Big O's interpretation of what death would do on vacation. Bowling and Cotton Candy.
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...that Darwin is DEAD? That somewhere along the lines evolution ground to a halt, and we're sliding backwards? Once medical science was able to overcome Survival of the Fittest, and people too stupid to breed were brought back from the brink, it began. When the good ole boy whose last words should have been "hey man, watch this" is saved, and good people die of cancer or car accidents--the balance is out of whack. The gene pool is decidedly cloudy these days.
I won a couple of poetry contests in high school, but I was never
ridiculed and/or traumatized by classmates in the eighth grade over my
poetry (although I probably should have been). It's true that I don't
enjoy poetry at all, though. Except for those Tuesday Work Sucks
Haikus....
I was not the one who superglued the pennies. That was the first bad
boyfriend. But the manager WAS that awful.
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On a separate note, have you tried the new white chocolate M&M's? They
are like little candy coated balls of Crisco to me.
THe dark chocolate ones are keepers, though!
I have gone for regular pap smears since I turned 16. That's twenty
years of awful paper dresses.
I usually go to an Ob-Gyn, but I was getting a physical anyway, and I
was overdue for an exam, so I killed two birds with one copay. My Dr.
is a nice middle aged Filipino lady. But she kept SHOWING me things.
Like everything. She beamed at me as she showed me the swab, and then
the speculum. UGH. She was so excited, and seemed to want to reassure
me that it was all good.
Lady, I'm trying to block this from my brain and pretend it's not
happening. Admittedly, after twenty years and two kids, it's not nearly
as traumatic as it used to be, but it's not a lot of fun, either.
Was it because she doesn't usually do them? Is this standard practice?
It's always been my experience that they cover it all back up
discreetly under something. Maybe it's the difference between male and
female Doctors?
Does anyone else get the show and tell treatment on this lovely, lovely
day?
It's thief week at Did You Ever...
I have cheerfully stolen this meme from CRSE, at that blogosphere Hotspot, Zamphir Panflutemaster. I may steal several of her answers, as well.
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1…. Beetlejuice. Guy's girlfriend worked at a bridal gown manufacturer, and had a red lace wedding gown, but he totally ruled. He had a purple velvet tux that was at least two sizes too small, and had filled it with baby powder, so every time he told an awful joke, he would pat himself and dust would fly up...he also stayed in character all night, in spite of copious quantities of alcohol. Come to think of it, maybe that WAS his personality. 2. Spy vs Spy. I made giant paper maiche heads, with black screens for the eyes, and would have OWNED that contest if not for Beetlejuice. Took witch hats and cut the tops off to make proportionate fedoras, painted one white, left the other one black... but we had no schtick. I was lucky to get my boyfriend INTO the costume, let alone be planting bombs all night... I have no pictures of the greatest halloween costume ever. I think it's why I'm so obsessive about getting pictures of the kids in theirs... 3. Jellyfish. I lived in Chico one year, and that is a town that does Halloween right! They were dressed all in black, had clear umbrellas with bubble wrap hanging in strings, with glowing necklaces on. They would just lift the umbrellas up and down as they drifted through the crowd, and they looked like Jellyfish swimming along. The.Coolest.Costume.Ever. 4. The windy guys. Also in Chico. When you go downtown, you just drift from bar to bar in a giant circuit of downtown streets. These guys had their hair gelled back, and their ties and coats wired back, and they made whshh-ing noises as they fought their imaginary wind from one light pole to another. There were four or five of them, I think. Was I just drunk? Because I thought they were hysterical. 5. Tinkerbell. As performed by my 6' 2" brother. He found tights (I can't imagine where), wore a white tank top and shorts, and little white wings. Um, he also carried a baseball bat painted gold with a cardboard star stapled to the end, as his magic wand. 6. Flying Monkey. As NOT performed by my chicken brother. I wanted him to do it Will Ferrell style, with his hairy man belly sticking out with the little bell hop outfit worn by the monkeys in Wizard of Oz and a monky snout, wings and a tail. It would have been sheer genius. 7. St. Paulie Girl. The other Jen made her own costume, and while I only saw the photos, it blew me away--Mind, you and Jen look a little alike, you should find a party and just GO for it! 8. Fed Ex Guy. Okay it WAS in a bar, but he had a box attached to his fly and was asking women if they'd like to sign for his package, and then handed them a clipboard for their name and number. It was pretty funny. 9. Pregnant Nun. In high school, my friend delivered pizzas as a pregnant nun. Dave was outstanding. 10. Maleficent. The baddie from sleeping beauty? A co-worker committed to it and totally rocked--full makeup and black skull cap thing, the works. 11. Angel. I kicked ass on Little O's pirate costume last year, but I loved her Angel costume from the year before bettter. It's killing me to not post a picture. 12. Cowboy. I made Big O a cowboy when HE was two, with felt chaps and a little vest, and I've done way more elaborate costumes for him since then, but nothing beats how easy and great his little felt chaps looked. Maybe I just love two year olds in costumes? 13. The Boss. No, not Springsteen. I hope this year is funny, because I am going as my boss. Technically, I am going as my boss's boss. Everyone's boss. The BIG boss. He has a pretty good sense of humor. I hope. If not, I'm going to have to claim to have been dooced. Blame it on the blog. Links to other Thursday Thirteens! |
My son has been given the curse and blessing of an unusual name. It was my grandfather's name, it is a fine name. It is not the name of your
average bear.
In the course of a boy's life, certain temptations are almost irresistible.
One of these temptations is a pristine piece of wet cement.
Oh, Big O. When your name is as distinctive as yours, a nom de plume is in order.
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One of the Honey's chief complaints about the Ex is that he does not ever make Big O suffer any consequences. I find that the Honey can be a little Draconian in his notions of discipline, and overall, I find that I am usually more in line with the Ex. You can imagine what a big hit this is at home.
My first instinct is to drag Big O by the ear down to public works and make him perform some sort of penance, like dumping out their trash cans or SOMETHING to show him that there are consequences. But wait...in this day and age, they could thank me for my honesty and then slap me with a bill for the signed concrete art.
I'm honest, and I'm civic minded.... and I'm poor.
So I called the ex to ask what he thought an appropriate measure would
be, and sure enough, he thinks a lecture would suffice. Boys will be boys.
I understand that it's a temptation beyond measure to a boy walking home alone from school.
But when he walks by it in the future, I want Big O to wince, and wish that he had not done it, NOT discover the joys of sharpies and start making his mark everywhere. (And may I say that I am terrified that they are going to ask the school about the name and bill me anyway.)
Any recommendations for consequences of boyish behavior? Less than a beating but more than a lecture.
I hate it when the Honey is right.
Yeah, that's right. A tetanus shot. And I'm not at all happy about it, either. Not for one of the O's, for ME. Doctor found out I worked at the garbage comapny and nothing would do but that I get a shot. I answer PHONES. But I can't remember when I last had one, so there I go. Stuck like the proverbial pig.
I scared the nurse when I told her I was a screamer in elementary school when shots came around.
Lord, I hated getting stuck.
I'm such a baby.
It's THAT day in the honey's family, and they are getting excited...mama might make homemade menudo!
OH. BOY.
I have to explain that I will never thrive in Scotland, either. I am an Organ-o-tarian. Don't get me wrong, I am definitely a carnivore! I totally grossed out the favorite SIL last night because I ordered my steak medium (we went to a REAL restaurant for her birthday--I normally order med-rare) and it was gloriously pink. But today that same girl is dying to scarf down major organs stewed in a greasy red soup with some hominy, and I'm the gross one.
I don't do organs. Biggest organ on a body? The skin. And no, I don't want any deep fried pork rinds either. Yak. But this obsession wwith menudo and haggis and monkey brains (okay, no one I know eats monkey brains, but they are considered a delicacy, right?) is not something I can wrap my head around.
Why would you want to chew and swallow Nature's little filters. If it wasn't good for that cow or pig, why would it be good concentrated in that organ and then stewed?
I've eaten the broth to shut them up, and it's okay. They make a non-organ kind called Pasole (I've probably misspelled that) that uses meat instead of organs. They give you shredded cabbage, and onions and radishes, and lemon and oregano to sprinkle on it .
OOOH, can I get a big piece of intestine to go with my cabbage and radishes? MMMM, chewy!
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Name the song and the artist! I don't know who to give credit to! I've played on a couple of TTers song lyrics, and always had fun--if you had friends wearing black makeup in the 80's, you may be a little more successful with these! Love you, Kat! 1…. If you twist and turn away If you tear yourself in two again If I could,You know I would If I could,I would Let it go Surrender Dislocate 2. Someone write me a letter I need to know that I'm still alive Someone give me a telephone call I need to hear a human sound Someone open up a door And let me out of this place I've been caged up for oh so long I don't know of I'm living or dying Man, I was bright and happy teen, wasn't I? 3. And fiery demons all dance When you walk through that door Don't say you're easy on me You're about as easy as a nuclear war Cos the dream that strings the road With broken glass for us to hold And I got so far before I had to say 4. But I think that God's Got a sick sense of Humor And when I die I expect to find Him laughing. 5. You hear laughter Cracking through the walls It sends you spinning You have no choice... Following the footsteps Of a rag doll dance We are entranced (ahem, insert song title here) 6. He's got to make his own mistakes And learn to mend the mess he makes He's old enough to know what's right But young enough not to choose it 7. I see you've sent my letters back And my LP records and they're all scratched I can't see the point in another day When nobody listens to a word I say 8. In the silence, I think of you I send a message, and I hope it gets through Think of the distance Think of the miles All of the valley's, could take a while I miss the people I miss the fun Your my apparition She's my only one 9. I like the way that they walk And it's chill to hear them talk And I can always make them smile From White Castle to the Nile 10. Good times they come and they go Never going to know What fate is going to blow You're way just hope it feels right Sometimes it comes and it goes You take it ever so slow And then you lose it, then it flows right to you So we rely on the past Special moments that last Were they as tender as we dare to remember Such a fine time as this What could equal the bliss 11. Darkness Imprisoning me All that I see Absolute horror I cannot live I cannot die trapped in myself 12. Across the clouds I see my shadow fly Out of the corner of my watering eye A dream unthreatened by the morning light Could blow this soul right through the roof of the night There's no sensation to compare with this Suspended animation, A state of bliss Can't keep my eyes from the circling skies 13. When I'm out walkin' I strut my stuff Man,I'm so strung out I'm high as a kite and I just might stop to check you out Links to other Thursday Thirteens! I profess for a fifth week my forbidden love of Mr. Linky... |
Carolee Wallis was my mother-in-law.
She was a tiny woman with sparkly brown eyes, and she was soft and squishy and tender hearted. I could not have asked for a more perfect grandmother for my son. She was kind of fluttery and really should have been in a fifties sitcom. She was a very fifties kind of mom.
The ironic thing is that Carolee was a survivor.
She survived her childhood, with family issues that no one talked about at the time. She survived the death of her first husband, left with three small children to raise. She survived the abandonment of her second husband, in the midst of her second pregnancy with HIM, leaving her with five kids under ten. She even managed to survive the next two disastrous marriages.
She found true love when she least expected it, and by the time I met her had settled into domestic bliss, taking care of little independent seniors in her community. They were her "ladies" and she gave them companionship and transportation, and made sure that they weren't living out of cat food cans.
She was the very definition of a caregiver.
But when she was diagnosed with breast cancer, she wasn't cared for. The doctor treating her was undergoing treatments for a wasting disease himself, and weeks after her mastectomy, he passed away. Carolee had faith in the system and was sure that if something more needed to be done, someone would be calling her.
She fell through every crack like alice through the looking glass. By the time she insisted that she needed to be seen, she had a festering wound. The woman who took care of everyone else died with a gaping black hole in her chest . It's been six years and I am still incredulous and angry. The woman who had survived so much just couldn't survive this.
Carolee died surrounded by her family, at home, and we worepink ribbons at her funeral. I have my pink ribbon, still held together by the angel pin she gave to us at christmas, up on the wall at my job, to remind me how lucky I am to be here and how precious it all is.
October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month.
Support it any way you see fit-but support it.
Carolee Wallis was my mother-in-law.