Sunday, December 30

sunday stuff

Bad Gift Emporium. Go. Shop.

18

For those that know me in real life, here's an acutal definition of a hoser!

Saturday, December 29

Let me speak out of my ass for a moment...


Siberian Tiger
Originally uploaded by pixelstate.

I know, I promised more positive posts, but that's in 2008.

I am NOT an animals-first type person. I think PETA does some fine work, and I think PETA is full of crack pot lunatics with waaaay too much time on their hands. If I find out that baby kittens were tortured to find the cure for cancer, I will feel bad. Right up until someone I love gets Cancer. (Sorry, Gretty)

But I took my O's to the zoo when Little O was Tiny Toddling O , and I swore I'd not go back. The animals were magnificent, but looked unhappy. The people were horrific, and I almost got into fights over people teasing the chimpanzees. Those primates are probably smarter than you and the fact that they are stuck over there does NOT give you the right to hoot and leer at them. They are demonstrating a great deal more dignity that you, you fat redneck hick. Nice mullet.

I suspect the kid who died in San Francisco was probably the best of the three, but I don't know how much credit I can give him beyond that. The brothers sound like fucking scum of the earth, and if that shoe print up on the wall matches, I hope the zoo sues THEM for the cost of a Siberian Tiger and lost business. The fact that they are being uncooperative with the authorities just confirms to me that they are more that a little at fault, and now a tiger following it's natural instincts, as well as a poor stupid boy, are dead. Those fuck-up brothers are going to sue the zoo out of existence. The fact that the dead boy's dad called looking for him on CHRISTMAS DAY, and he was dodging calls, and the brothers bold faced lied to his dad, says to me that the kid was not the snow white angel his family makes him out to be. Still doesn't mean he should be dead.

But neither should that tiger.

This has been a post from Jen, speaking out of my ass too soon on a news story that we've still only heard half of. I may regret it, much like my post on the HPV shill--who turned out to be totally legit, and is my secret vice to read. But I say again I think those boys had some role in taunting that tiger.

Friday, December 28

I HAVE STUPID ACRONYM POSTING ENVY.

My new years resolution is to remember to post the OTHER side of my personality (or is it another personality entirely?), the POSITIVE side.
 
And to post more often.
 
Like, everyday.
 
In honor of my resolution, I present my own crazy acronym. 
 
Because seriously?  November is a crazy busy month for me.  But I want to be like the cool kids.
I'm such a lemming.
 
January
jen
just
post
more
positive
posts
en
too
 
JanJenJuPoMoPoPoEnTodo
 
 
 
 

Thursday, December 27

Thursday wanderings...

May I just say that Pakistan continues to scare the ever loving bejeebus out of me?
 
RIP, Ms. Bhutto, I think you were our best shot at a little stability over there.
 
***************
 
Did you all have a deeelightful Christmas?
 
My sweet Sister-in Law, my brother's wife, has started a war. 
 
She gave Little O a pink and black tackle box full of make up.
 
In response to that volley, I told her that she left me no choice but to  buy my gorgeous seventeen year old niece a fake ID.
 
Because the make up is, in fact, damn near invisible, I conceded that we will make sure it's a one name ID a-la-McLovin.
 
McLovely makes her sound like a Grey's Anatomy cast member.
 
*******************
 
My weird mother-issues continue. 
 
I have had an ice cream maker on my Christmas list for the last three years, ever since my brother and sister in law started making ice cream.  When my mom came through just before my birthday, I spied an ice cream ball in her back seat.  I was sure I was getting one for my birthday or maybe Christmas. 
 
Nope. 
 
She gave an Ice Cream ball to my brother and his family (who already make ice cream with his ice cream maker and started me on this whole kick) and she either gave one to SIL's cousin (who is a fabulous guy and I certainly do not begrudge him a flipping ice cream ball), or maybe balls to each of the kids?  I dunno, there were two floating around, and not one for me!  Still nothing for my birthday.  I am becoming obsessive and a little crazy about the whole birthday thing.  I feel like golem. 
 
My buuuuuurthdayyyyyyyy....
 
It's a little black speck on my shiny green soul.   (Do you see your soul as colored?  I envision it as granny smith green.)
 
 

Tuesday, December 25

Merry Christmas!

I hope you are all safe and warm...

My MIL went into the hospital and is still in (although they may be busting her out today). The Sisters in law, collectively, decided on Friday to take me up on my hosting offer for Christmas Eve, and the honey didn't tell me until AFTER I'd spent every last dime on Christmas. Ack.

But in spite of having no seating, a frozen turkey, and the SIL's dog eating the cheesecake, it was a nice evening.

THESE were a big hit. I like the peppermint better than the plain. As long as you have a mixer, super easy to do, but the dredging at the end is a little messy.

Currently cooling in the fridge is my first attempt at These. We'll see if they cool in time to take to my brother's. The honey's fam was here until 3 am, so little O is still passed out. Not even Santa could bring her out of her warm cozy bed.

Merry Christmas!

Thursday, December 20

I heart my boy.

Santa is coming to little O's preschool today, and she has been STRESSIN' over what she can wear to look her prettiest for Santa.
 
She talked me into letting her wear her new skirt we'd been saving for Christmas eve.
 
Big O looked at his sister this morning and told her,
 
"You know Little O, Santa would think you're beautiful no matter what you wear."
 
I called him on that one right away, and told him he'd just earned an extra present from Santa for saying such a sweet and wonderful thing.  Then I shot him down that no, Santa would not be bringing him an Xbox or a Wii based upon a lovely compliment to his sister, but he should remember lines like that when he gets older. 
 
 

Sunday, December 16

sunday quizzez

You Know a Lot About Christmas

You got 6/10 correct

You know tons about the history and traditions surrounding Christmas.
When you celebrate the holidays, you never forget their true meaning - or all the little fun details.

Random Christmas fact: "Jingle Bells" was originally written as a Thanksgiving song.




What Star Trek Species Are You?
You scored as a Federation
You Are The Federation, You prefer to be alone and learn. You enjoy helping people and know how to talk things up. You would help people into the spotlight before yourself
Federation
75%
Vulcan
50%
Cardassian
50%
Borg
45%
Klingon
45%
Ferengi
45%
Dominion
40%
Romulan
30%

What Trek Species are You?



Atheism
Are You Damned?
Brought to you by Rum and Monkey

You can laugh at the silly superstitions of the religious, safe in the knowledge that we are only dust and lies. All that will be left of you after you die is a slow decay and some fading memories in the minds of your friends. Hope you're enjoying your life at the moment- there's nothing better to come.

Saturday, December 15

Yesterday sucked Donkey.

We've had no heat since we moved in. It hasn't been an issue until oh, say , mid November, when things got a little chilly. Jumped through a few hoops for my sweet elderly landlady, and was waiting yesterday for a heater guy.

Work called and said they really needed me like, twenty minutes ago. craaaap.

So called and cancelled the heater guy and went to work. Since I was gone half the morning and NEED money, decided to take my paycheck to the bank AFTER work.

Did I mention that Kmart only loves the po' so much, and all lay aways must be retrieved by Saturday?

Which of course means that I left my paycheck sitting on my desk as I drove at warp speed to the bank yesterday. Tried to call work and my cell phone was dead. So now my paycheck is locked up all weekend, my lay-away is going to be reshelved, and our cars?

yeah. on E.

I guess we have food and lights, so it's not all bad, right? And a seven foot Chrismas tree. And sweet sweet DSL.

Wednesday, December 12

Wednesday Hero

This Week's Hero Was Suggested By Louie

Bill Juneau
36 years old from Rush City, Minnesota
November 27, 2007

If there was one thing Bill Juneau loved as much as his country, it was his dog, Jake.

The accident-prone black Lab, who has been hit by two cars, had a toe amputated on his right paw and survived eating 42 candy bars in one sitting, once fell off a dock and through the ice on a lake while Juneau was hunting with his best friend, Dan Bock.

Bock said Juneau jumped into the icy, chest-deep water to save his dog.

"He threw that wet dog on the deck and sacrificed everything to save him," said Bock. "Bill's just that type of guy."

Juneau, a 10 year veteran of the Chisago County sheriff's deputy, was in Iraq helping to train Iraqi police recruits when his convoy was hit by and IED 50 miles outside Baghdad. A spokesperson for DynCorp, the private firm Juneau was working for, said Juneau was driving the lead vehicle in the large convoy that included U.S. Army personnel as well as members of the Iraqi National Police Force. The convoy was headed for a scheduled training mission. An Iraqi translator and a U.S. Army soldier sustained injuries in the blast as well.

His twin sister, Bridget Sura, said he wanted to help Iraqis rebuild their country and create better lives. "He would often sugar-coat the bad stuff, because he wanted us to know about the positive things," she said. "But we still worried every minute of every day." Another reason he joined was because he loved adventure, she said. While with the Chisago County Sheriff's Department, he started and led the country's SWAT team.

Jake, his dog, has been embraced by Juneau's sister's family. "He has more lives than a cat," Sura said, adding that they recently discovered a chocolate stash he'd hidden in his kennel.

"Jake is a part of my brother," she said. "He[Bill] will be missed by a lot of people. This will leave a hole in a lot of people's hearts."


These brave men and women sacrifice so much in their lives so that others may enjoy the freedoms we get to enjoy everyday. For that, I am proud to call them Hero.
We Should Not Only Mourn These Men And Women Who Died, We Should Also Thank God That Such People Lived

This post is part of the Wednesday Hero Blogroll. For more information about Wednesday Hero, or if you would like to post it on your blog, you can go here.

Monday, December 10

sick day

Sayre posted her favorite ornaments. I wantd to do that for a TT, but I am home today feeling like dog, and so I present to you the three santas that I have managed to photograph.

 
 
 
Posted by Picasa

Wednesday, December 5

The Tradgedy of Testicular Blindness...

My friends, it is apparent to me that we have an epidemic on our hands.
 
Yes, I am talking about the horror that IS Testicular Blindness.
 
Isn't it true that Bulls charge the cape because it's about the only thing they see moving?  Don't they have huge testicles?  It's like as the boys descend, so does some sort of film over the eyes of the ovary-challenged, and they lose the ability to find the things that are right in front of them.
 
Where are my socks?  Um... in the drawer?  Oh.
 
Yesterday the Honey blamed the decided lack of Christmas lights on the outside of the house on the fact that he and Big O could not find them.  I snorted and said something under my breath about sending money to the Institute for Testicular Blindness (It's a charitable institution loosley associated with CRSE's brilliant School for the Chronic Asshole). 
 
The Honey challenged me. 
 
He said we should test my theory, using our sweet Little O, who is delightfully testicle free. 
 
I agreed.
 
We got home, and I casually asked Little O to get me the Christmas lights for outside. 
 
She ran joyfully into the house, straight to the table in the living room where all things christmas are stuffed out of the way, and pulled, FROM THE FRONT, CLEARLY VISIBLE from any angle in the living room, the very box that had been invisible to the boys.
 
Testicular blindness, people.
 
 

Monday, December 3

The Blue Light Special

On my BIG list, of things I envision in our life as the Cleavers, has always been a ping pong table. Why? Damned if I know.

Pool table? Nice, but honestly, you have to have an epic room to have a pool table set up (because no, it will NOT be the centerpiece of the living room). A ping pong table is good clean fun (and pool can be so very dirty...) and would also get Big O and the Honey something that is neither sport NOR Video game.

At our old house a ping pong table was never an option, but this house has a porch that is crying out for a folding green table. With small rubberized paddles (stop that) and featherweight balls that wouldn't damage anything if they got away.

So it seemed like destiny when KMART had a one day special on Friday. Eighty bucks for my slice of the american dream. Now, friends, eighty bucks is nothing--Except for the ever hovering spectre of abject poverty that flashes at the sides of my vision like some evil ghost of christmas future. But Kmart, my friends, specializes in abject poverty. They gots them the lay away. Sheeee-it.

So off I went to squander the extra hour I had, because work let us off early to prepare for the Christmas party. An hour should be long enough to put one item on the lay away, no?

Aw, HELLS NO, y'all.

This is the Central Valley, and I was goin' to the Southside. Unlike the northside Kmart, which they tore down to build a lovely Eddie Bauer/J Jill/ REI complex more in keeping with the Northside's yuppie ideal, southside has their lay away in the same hallway as the bathrooms. Because really, who doesn't want to stand in line as the great unwashed brush much too close to you on their way to and from the facilities?

For the entertainment of the masses, let me present the family Crack. Mama crack needs a bath. A toothbrush. Some basic hygeine. She's waiting for the clerk to fetch her christmas goods from the lay away. I know how to say it now. It's The Lay Away. Daddy Crack is there to move the basket around in random patterns while waiting for the clerk to fill it up. Uncle Crack is bitching about the injuries he got in Iraq--they all think that's hilarious. Oh, he was also in Vietnam and Korea. Uncle Crack looks maybe forty--which means he is probably twenty five in human years, and fifty in crack years. Look! Here comes grandma Crack, who drops off crack baby, because he needs to go. Mama Crack think it's hilarious to shove him into the men's room and kick him in the ass on his way in. She could have been punting a football. Bitch. He's maybe five or six. The clerk has come back with their stuff (finally) and they are poring over their stuff (and props to Crack Parents, they have made sure their kids are getting Christmas). As the clerk disappears to find the next pile of stuff, the sounds of crying come from the bathroom.

"Moooommmaaa.... Moooooommmmmaaaaaa!"

Mama Crack is joking with uncle Crack, and ignores the cries.

"Momma, help meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

"WHAAT?"

"IT'S stuuuuck!"

"AAAAAAAIIIIIIII!!!!!!!"

Now he's really screaming.


AAAAIIIIII!!!! IT's Stuck in my butt! MAMA!!!! THE DOOKIE IS STUCK IN MY BUUUUTT!!!!!

MAAAAAAMMAAAAAAAA...The dookie is stuck in my buuuuuuuuuutttt!


I was trapped for almost my entire bonus hour with the family Crack, and the dookie was stuck in his butt.

But my freaking ping pong table is on The Lay Away. I'm so sending the Honey to pick it up.

Saturday, December 1

This tree does not grow in my backyard.


Money doesn't grow on trees,you know
Originally uploaded by Lifeguardin Gal.

So let me ask you, what would you do for money?

If, say, you had attended the annual Christmas party for the last four years and come away with nothing, while others at your table won fabulous prizes?

What if the uber boss offered a CHANCE at a fabulous prize in exchange for momentary humiliation?

Now suppose you owe your daycare center an obscene amount of money, and have juggled the bills to the point that you got to keep twenty two dollars of your paycheck to last you until NEXT week...

So yeah, I got up and sang solo in front of two hundred or so employees and their spouses.

I'd like to thank my Honey for pushing me, the bartender in the black shirt for mixing some damned fine long island iced teas, and the sweet lord tiny baby jeebus for making sure I did not then choose the envelope containing a twenty dollar subway gift card.

While I could feed my family with the twenty dollar gift card, a week's pay PLUS a fifty dollar American Express giftcard will stretch just a little bit further.

This doesn't really help me this week, as I am sure I'll have to wait at least a week to cash in my certificate, but WOOOOO HOOOOO!

Ask me about the crackheads at Kmart later, because today I am just going to bask in the glow....

Wednesday, November 28

Wednesday Hero

Sgt. Antwan L. Walker
Sgt. Antwan L. Walker

22 years old from Tampa, Florida
2nd Forward Support Battalion, 2nd Infantry Division
May 18, 2005


Sgt. Antwan Walker was excited about coming home from Iraq to celebrate his 23rd birthday with his family and friends. His mother, Andrea Pringle, was busy planning the party when an Army official unexpectedly came to her house.

She said he told her Thursday that her son was killed the previous day by a bomb blast in Ramadi. The Department of Defense hasn't publicly confirmed his death.

Sgt. Antwan Walker, known as Twan to his friends and family, joined the Army in 2000. Pringle said her son joined to earn money for college.

"Twan had a lot of goals in life," She said. "He was very ambitious and very smart."

Sgt. Walker had been in Iraq for about a year. He called his family often but didn't want to talk about war. Instead, he talked about starting a real estate career and his three children.

"He was such a good dad," his mother said. "All he wanted to do was make a good life for his kids."

In April 2005, Walker wanted to talk about the fighting. He told his mother five soldiers he was traveling with were killed. His phone calls became more frequent after that.

Pringle said she had days when she couldn't eat or sleep because of her worries. But she never forgot to give her son her support.

"I always told him I'm proud and be safe".


Spc. Roger G. Ling
Spc. Roger G. Ling
20 years old from Douglaston, New York
Company C, 1st Battalion, 34th Armor Regiment, 1st Brigade Combat Team
February 19, 2004


When Spc. Roger G. Ling's Humvee was struck by a homemade bomb in October of 2003, he survived the attack and he worked to keep his superior officer, Lt. Matt Homa, alive. Spc. Ling was riding in the backseat of the Humvee when it was hit. It destroyed Lt. Homa's door.

"It almost killed me. From what I've been told, Roger helped keep me awake until my medic arrived." said Lt. Homa. "Ling was a good kid. You could count on him to do anything."

Spc. Ling was killed, along with Second Lieutenant Jeffrey C. Graham of Elizabethtown, Kentucky, when their unit came under fire from insurgents in Khalidiyah, Iraq. Only two miles from where he'd survived the attack just four months earlier.

Leona Ling said she was grateful her brother came home in August of 2003 just before leaving for Iraq.

"He had to have his tonsils taken out," she said. "It was a blessing in disguise because we got to see him again."

In phone calls home, the soldier spoke wistfully of returning to New York and going to college. "He wanted to hear about what was going on at home and all the latest family gossip," Leona Ling recalled.

Survivors include his father, Wai Ling, a U.S. Army veteran.




Army Spc. Eric S. McKinley
Army Spc. Eric S. McKinley
24 years old from Corvallis, Oregon
Company B, 2nd Battalion, 162nd Infantry Regiment, Army National Guard
June 13, 2004


An avid outdoorsman, Spc. McKinley worked as a baker at Alpine Bakery in Corvallis, Ore. Upon his return from Iraq, he hoped to open a juice bar in the college town to provide a drug and alcohol-free environment for young people. Friends and co-workers remember Spc. McKinley as a quiet, caring young man who dyed his hair, sported several tattoos and loved ska and rock music. His senior yearbook picture showed a grinning young man with spiked hair dyed red and green. In other 1998 yearbook pictures, he has purple and blue hair in a mohawk.

Spc. Eric McKinley was killed when a roadside bomb north of Baghdad detonated destroying two vehicles and wounded four other Oregon soldiers. They were identified as Staff Sgt. Phillip Davis, 23, of Albany; Sgt. Matthew Zedwick, 23, of Bend; Cpl. Shane Ward, 23, of Corvallis and Pvt. Richard Olsen, 23, of Independence.

Almost 500 people attended the memorial service for Spc. McKinley at Starker Arts Park in Corvallis. There was a mix of people dressed in either military or punk attire — including McKinley’s six-year-old cousin, who, in tribute, wore his hair in a bright green mohawk.

Coventry Pacheco, McKinley’s fiancee, sat in the first row at his celebration-of-life service. They hadn’t set a wedding date, but were planning to get married.

He was posthumously awarded the Bronze Star for meritorious service, a Purple Heart and the Oregon Distinguished Service Award. U.S. and Oregon flags were presented to his parents, Tom McKinley of Salem and Karen Hilsendager of Philomath.



Marine Lance Cpl. Nicholas R. Anderson
Marine Lance Cpl. Nicholas R. Anderson
21 years old from Sauk City, Wisconsin
1st Battalion, 3rd Marine Regiment, 3rd Marine Division, III Marine Expeditionary Force
March 13, 2006


Lance Cpl. Nicholas Anderson lost his life after the Humvee he was riding in rolled over as a group of Marines pursued a suspicious vehicle near Jalalabad, Afghanistan. He suffered head injuries in the crash and died as he was being transported to a hospital.

Nicholas Anderson joined the Marines in January 2005 and began a six-month tour of Afghanistan two months ago with the 3rd Marines Weapons Platoon, his father, James Anderson said.

"I just know that he died fighting for what he believed in," he said. "He wanted to be a Marine and even though it was a major risk he just wanted to go."

James Anderson said his son, a 2003 Sauk Prairie High School graduate, enjoyed riding his motorcycle, lifting weights, going fishing and hanging out with friends.

He joined the Wisconsin Army National Guard when he was 18, but an injured shoulder forced him to drop out. He then enlisted in the Marines.

"I was very nervous when he first joined the Marines because two words jumped into my head: Afghanistan and Iraq," his father said. "I just supported him and prayed that it would end before he had to go over."




These brave men and women sacrifice so much in their lives so that others may enjoy the freedoms we get to enjoy everyday. For that, I am proud to call them Hero.
We Should Not Only Mourn These Men And Women Who Died, We Should Also Thank God That Such People Lived

This post is part of the Wednesday Hero Blogroll. For more information about Wednesday Hero, or if you would like to post it on your blog, you can go here.



I don't know--is it more shocking seeing them grouped together? I'll say it again- move on from blaming Bush for getting us into it, it's time to talk about what we're doing to support the folks we've already sent over there. Congress is talking about drastically reducing funding on TBI research. The numbers on fatalities in this war are lower because we can save people who in other wars would have been lost. Those people have Traumatic Brain Injuries, and will need our help and support for years if not their entire lives. How many homeless vets do we have now? Why is no one in Congress looking down the road ten, twenty years?

VOTE, people. Call your congressmen, or email them. Let them know this needs to be addressed.

Sunday, November 25

harder than I thought....

Although that my have had something to do with the choices offered. But it's what I've got in place of the Sunday Quizzez...

If I was a millionaire, I'd buy...




























Welsh Retreat



Welsh Retreat


Price: $470,000




Pay Off your Mortgage



Pay Off your Mortgage


Price: $400,000




Make a Low Budget Movie



Make a Low Budget Movie


Price: $200,000




100k Savings Account



100k Savings Account


Price: $200,000




Baguette/Sandwich Shop



Baguette/Sandwich Shop


Price: $170,000




Dream Fitted Kitchen



Dream Fitted Kitchen


Price: $100,000




Help Fight Cancer



Help Fight Cancer


Price: $100,000




6 Week Family Extravaganza in Seychelles



6 Week Family Extravaganza in Seychelles


Price: $72,072




Volkswagen Beetle Cabriolet



Volkswagen Beetle Cabriolet


Price: $40,040




Landscaped Gardens



Landscaped Gardens


Price: $40,000




Donate Towards Clean Water in Africa



Donate Towards Clean Water in Africa


Price: $40,000




Ikea/Habitat Spree



Ikea/Habitat Spree


Price: $30,000




Smart ForTwo Coupe



Smart ForTwo Coupe


Price: $25,540




Full Dental Work



Full Dental Work


Price: $24,000




Premiership Season Ticket for Two for 10 Years



Premiership Season Ticket for Two for 10 Years


Price: $20,600




Personal Trainer



Personal Trainer


Price: $20,000




14 Bed House for Christmas



14 Bed House for Christmas


Price: $12,000




Install a New Aga Range Oven



Install a New Aga Range Oven


Price: $11,000




Breast Reduction



Breast Reduction


Price: $6,300




Plasma TV Pioneer PDP 436XDE



Plasma TV Pioneer PDP 436XDE


Price: $5,600




Ultimate Computer Laptop



Ultimate Computer Laptop


Price: $4,998




Monkey



Monkey


Price: $4,000




Labradoodle



Labradoodle


Price: $3,000




Nintendo Wii



Nintendo Wii


Price: $600


Friday, November 23

Let's get Real, shall we?



Reality TV is the deep fried Twinkie of junk food TV.

The Bachelor is such an appalling show. People are up in arms because the latest guy declined to choose in the last episode, taking a pass on both of the "heartbroken" women.

Right.On.

What is wrong with these women? How can one human being be such a vapid ball of quivering need? They are crying in the limo on the first episode, because they went home in the first round. They don't even have the ovaries to say they are embarrassed to be rejected in the first round, they were hoping to buy themselves a new pair of tatas from their fame, and now no one will know who they are. No, they sob that there had been a real sense of connection when they chatted at the cocktail party.

Even if you DID make it to the final round, what in the fucking hell is wrong with you that you think six weeks or SIX MONTHS in front of TV crews is going to establish a long and lasting relationship? How many of these have there been? I think there has been one successful couple? These women are so screwed up in their priorities. Where is some pride? Some...dare I say it... common sense? Where is the grandma who, on the home visit, says her granddaughter is acting like a damned fool over a guy she just met?

(See what happens when I accidentally log on through AOL?)
All of the trailer park commentors talk about how eeevil this guy is.

He's a tail chasing dog--who ever thought anything else about a man going on reality TV to find a mate? If anything people should give him props for saying upfront that he's not interested, instead of faking it for the six weeks after the show finishes so ABC gets to pretend it was a love match.

The girls are always horrified to learn that he was kissing another woman the same way he kissed them. The junior high lesson in social diseases should tell you that you have probably (in effect) kissed every girl in the house--since this isn't one of "those" blogs, we won't talk about what else your little microbial community may have shared.

The fact that they televise this shit so some little girl whose parents aren't paying attention will soak it all up like a sponge and think that life is like this....ack. Probably the same little girl who's wearing the Bratz line of pre-teen thong underwear. sigh.

I want to get the Honey cable for Christmas. I do. But then Little O will be soaking up whatever that sweet sixteen crap is on MTV. Say what you will about telling your kids "no" and controlling their TV viewing, but if it's on, they will FIND a way to watch. Don't kid yourselves.

PLEASE lord tiny baby jeebus, give me the ability to teach my daughter to THINK. I see the Honey's nieces dumbing themselves down the older they get, and it KILLS me. At least three of them would sell a kidney to go on one of those shows. Maybe not their own, but hey--that's what parents are for, no?

Thursday, November 22

Thankful, you say?



How could I NOT be?

Look at them.
(Has it really been almost two years since I took this photo?

We are all healthy.

The honey misses his dad terribly at times like today, and mine may be miles away, but I know he's there with just a phone call. Both of my parents are.

My nephews are in uniform, and are safe (for now).

I have the best friends, in life AND a la blog.

Short of pulling a Pakistan, Dubya only has one more year.

I live in America, in the twenty first century. We have modern medicine, clean water and fucking drive thru Starbucks, for pete's sake.

Driving home from the SIL's last night, my kids warm and cozy in the back, the Honey with his hand on my knee, we drove past a corner bar with people spilling out. Seven or eight years ago, that would have been me, trying to get away from the misery that was my marriage. All I could think as I drove by was how empty that life seemed.

Of all the dog shifts this holiday season, I got the one that pays OT. So I have to go jump in the shower, and drag my butt into work-and you know what?

I'm thankful.

Monday, November 19

admission

I am not one to ogle the boys. My lifelong fear of being a Big Maaaaan Hungry Girl far exceeds any need to wolf whistle as the hot but pretty dense painter goes shirtless at work. It was nice, but eeww--the girls at work were stalking him. I also get pretty skeeved out when they send the beefcake emails at work--#1, because we're at WORK, people, and #2, well, eeew.

This weekend we watched the new Bond film, after several of you recommended it. I was, um, deeply appreciative. Blue eyes and blond hair? Soooo not my thing. Giant ears? Again, sooo not what works for me. But I've been watching bond films my whole life, and this one was GOOD. Big O was bummed there were so few gadgets, but I think the lack of Supa-cheese made it much better for me. There were still ridiculous things goin' on, but it worked. Okay, Daniel Craig was workin' for me, too, but the FILM, people. The FILM worked.

Damnit, my name is jennifer, and I am a big maaaaan hungry girl. eew.

Saturday, November 17

Shut up, Scary Mary! SHUUUUUUUUUUUUUT UUUUUUUUP.

'Kay, I am not a fan of things that start on their own. If I want to hear it, there is a "Play" button conveniently located. Mary is annoying the shit out of me on my own freaking blog. So Wrong.

So, it's just meh. Yes I had a quiet family dinner the night before my birthday, but upon further reflection, I made dinner and I got us all there, and that was a present to myself. The honey was an ass last night, and if I enjoyed listening to him puke, well, it still doesn't count as a present.

I feel stupid and childish that I am completely butt-hurt that my parents didn't call on or around my birthday. I am 37 years old, it's not like I doubt that they love me, so I feel whiny and needy. My brother called me from Disneyland (Okay, my birthday is also his anniversary, so it's hard for him to forget), my uncle, who I never talk to, emailed me. It's been almost a week and I have not heard anything from my mother.

I hate being whiny and feeling stupid. Hate it. I feel greedy and stupid for wanting the honey to get me a present--but would it kill you to show the foresight to get me a card? To figure something out BEFORE my birthday? I am wallowing here, and I cannot stand to be in my own head. But he was a complete ass last night, so it just unleashed the flood. Resentment and long term grudge, thy name is Jennifer.


This has been another whiny self pitying post by jen. I should probably have some Bon Jovi playing.

Wednesday, November 14

Happy Birthday, Rosanna Huffman!

Where ever you are....
 
Rosanna was my best friend in the first grade, and our friendship was cemented when we learned our birthdays were only two days apart.    Years later I found Rosanna at the local JC and you know what?  I may have been bitter, and slightly baked, but Rosanna was still a neat person that I could have hung with (had I not been completely wrapped up in my loser stoner boyfriend).  I think of her every year.


********

Everyone send fabulous recovery vibes to Chuck, who's having her lady parts *ahem* reworked. See, now it sounds like she's having plastic surgery, instead of having them rip it all out. sigh. I have no tact, but I'm thinkin' of ya, Chuck.

Tuesday, November 13

 


HA! The homemade birthday card from my son.

I did not do a Veteran's day post, because I couldn't top Queen of Dysfunction.

Pray for her dad, pray for my nephews, and vote for the candidate who talks about taking care of our boys when they come home.
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Monday, November 12

bliss

It's my birthday, and I got pie at work--yay!
 
I actually got what I think is about the best present ever last night, in that my whole little family sat down at the table and had a lovely home cooked meal, right down to bread in a basket getting passed around.  I know it doesn't sound like much, but we have never really utilized our dining room table for anything but storage, and I have wanted to change that.  So we did!
We lit a candle, we all sat down, the Honey muted the TV, and only kinda watched the football game.  There was a little quiet music playing on the computer, and we were all eating THE SAME THING.  No special kid food, just loaded Little O with peanut butter that afternoon so I wouldn't get all psycho about the lack of protein on her plate.
 
Ahhhhh....
 
I am really striving for more nights like that, but it was lovely that the first night I really pulled it off without feeling frazzled was my birthday eve. 
 
 

Sunday, November 11

no quizzes, just a thang.

cash advance

I stole it from Hip Suburban White Guy. He's right over there in my links.

I am soooooo damned lazy today.

purr

I like it!

Thursday, November 8

Okay, Seriously

blah blah blah, another country with civil unrest...blah blah blah.
 
Okay, wait a minute.  The president of Pakistan has ordered the arrrest of all the lawyers?  ALL of them?  Judges thrown into jail?  So basically ANYONE who knows what the rights of the people are, and what the responsibilities of the government are, is suddenly a criminal? 
 
Holy Shit.  No, seriously--can you even imagine that happening here? 
 
Shall we throw in the fact that they have nukes?  That they are probably currently hosting our al-quaida friends?
 
Chuck, you are my expert on all things terrifying, is this as scary as it seems?
 
 

just a brief bitchy CMA moment

Sara Evans had either be pregnant or the new spokewoman for Pepto, doing the upset stomach/diarreah dance.

The girls who sing the boondocks song? The brunette should be slapped for her leather shorts, and the blonde had hair that looked like Mrs. Roper. I am a walking hair disaster, so I have a little sympathy, but...but...you can pay professionals, and they will HELP you before you appear on National TV.

Dwight, I love you, but it is 2007, and we know you're bald. It's okay to remove your levi's jacket, maybe even get a new pair of jeans, and cut your hair. Leave the hat on if you want, but cut the lunatic fringe in the back.

Dammmit, I missed someone else who was bugging me! Must.Go.to.Work.

Wednesday, November 7

The Dorkville Meme

The rules are:
Answer the questions as realistically or unrealistically as you want.
Copy the rules into your meme post.
Link back to the person who tagged you.
Tag 5 others
 
1. Where would you live?
Having recieved this assignment from Mert, I would say that Dorkville is the town for me! I would have a house on the corner of Padawan Way and Kenobi Ct in the new Star Wars Subdivision, Empire Acres.  You haven't SEEN a crazy HOA until you've seen men in white plastic stormtooper costumes writing citations for flying a Federation flag in a Star Wars only zone...

2. What would your job be (or if unrealistic) what would you do all day?
I would be that guy who always runs for office, even though no one will ever elect them.  I will be a professional candidate, featured every four years as the giggly human interest story about the little candidate that couldn't.


3.  Who would you spend your time with? Doing what?
Mert is my inspiration for all things dork.  I would spend the time with my fellow guild members.  What Guild?    Why the Mos Eisley Players, Of course!  We re-interpret Star Trek episodes, set it into the Star Wars Universe, and then convert THAT into the shakespearean cant, to bridge the gap and end the terrible strife between the Trek and Lucasian camps.  It's tearing the Dork world apart, people!!!! (sob)

4. What kind of holidays/vacations would you take?
January--we take the enitre month off to celebrate the gods of sci-fi and fantasy.  Asimov, Dick and Tolkien have entire days that are exclusively theirs.
February we dress as our favorite TV character every 22nd.
March has the Day of Secret Collections, when you reveal your bad collection of (fill in the blank) to the world.
April is the annual Dork Pride parade.
May 1st all of the Rennaisance Faire (don't forget ye olde "E") folks dance around the maypole.  The Beavis contingent then laughs (heh heh, they said pole).
June is reveal your pasty white legs to the world day.
July 5th has free burn treatment at the ER.
August has bring your drinks to work day.  Followed quickly by "avoid eye contact with smokin hot co-worker you may have shared a little too much with the previous day" Day.
Ah, September.  When all the Dork moms don thier pictish blue face paint and brave the school drop offs to get their first day of back to school freeeeedom!!!!!!
October remains unchanged, because who could top Halloween for letting your Dorkk flag fly?
November sees the vokda based slushy drinks wedged into the snowbanks, in a grand evening involving bonfires and the occasional naked snow angel.
December is the Twelve days of Christmas Cookies.

 

5. What luxury items would you own?
I would have a woman that came to wash my hair, like at a salon.  I would also have a mute buddhist monk to cust my hair in absolute silence.  No fake chit chat.   

6. What charities would you support or represent?
I would support the Zamphir School of Asshole Management and Rehabilitation, and one of their shock collars would have a  little brass plate with my name on it as a donor. 
 
I tag any dork willing to play, and we'll repost them over at dorkbloggers if you tell me you're playing.

Tuesday, November 6

yup


DSC01258
Originally uploaded by supa_jen_10.

We were supposed to be Delta Mermaids, so we were covered in trash, and I reeeeeally wanted cigarettes hanging from our mouths and those tattoo shirts where it looks like you're bare but covered in tats? anyone? bueller? Unfortunately the trash doesn't show in the photos very well... I had a pic of me NOT smiling, but I can't help it. It's my nature. I'm smiley.

Sunday, November 4

Halloween


collage
Originally uploaded by supa_jen_10.

What were we?

Friday, November 2

haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

Favorite SIL & her daughter came over for Halloween.
 
Love them.
 
My favorite thing said by Smart-assed niece?
 
When someone's skirt is too short at her high school, they tell the girl in question that no one wants to see her "Britney."
 
Cracks me up.

Wednesday, October 31

So I have been away....

Between the one thousand birthday parties, costume prep, and general family madness, it's been quite the week.
 
Did I mention the teeny earthquake?
 
Woo-Hoo!  I got mad at the Honey last night for movng the table while I was trying to sew, then realized he was nowhere near the table!!  We looked at each other and realized it at the same time.  It was a very wierd sensation.  He called his mom to make sure she was fine, I called the little old landlady (she uses a walker), and we made the kids sit under the table for a few minutes in case things got crazy.  I've lived all my life in California, but that was the first time I've ever felt that rolling motion. 
 
I will post pics later, just didn't want y'all to think I had been eaten by wolves... 

Wednesday, October 24

YAY!

My best Jen sent me the latest Sookie Stackhouse!
 
Not.gonna.crack.it.until.Little.O.has.a.completed.costume.
 
Maybe just a little on my lunch hour....

Tuesday, October 23

Lovin the Dove...



I stole this from Faking Good Breeding. I haven't seen this on TV, but we don't have cable.

Have you noticed that I have been stealing things since I moved? I...I... I got (ahem) a slightly faster internet connection. I can finally watch things that MOVE, without waiting for a three day download. I'm tasting honey, people.

The Honey is, I think, underwhelmed that cable did not get ordered simultaneously.

Oops.