- oh, Posole, how you betray me... Posole is the version of Menudo where they DON'T use internal organs...nature's filters are just not something I am interested in eating. Imagine my horror to discover that my beloved posole (and I could be spelling that ALL wrong, people.) begins with a big pot of Pig's ears boiling on the stove. GAAAHHHH. It was even better when a sister in law pulled one out of her soup and the inside base of it was darker. I know it was probably just a spotted pig. I know that. I couldn't help but tell a niece that it made me think the secret posole ingredient was porcine ear wax. The preggers sis at the party turned to me and THANKED me for that image...sorry!
- There's no Place like home... My issues with other people's showers continue. Maria, Nirand can come to my house, because he scrubs the shower, which I think is lovely. I am about to do that at my MIL's, and I hope she thinks it's nice, and not snotty. We've been there a week now, so hopefully she'll think it's just us being helpful, not me freaking out at the teeming legion of cooties I imagine every time I step in. I want desperately to make her house nicer for our staying there. But she does not throw ANYTHING away. Remember when I said I would be the little old lady my kids would have to dig out from teetering piles of newspapers? MIL has three heaters in her tiny bathroom. Only one is plugged in. The other two are stacked on top of each other. I just threw out scads of stuff at my old house, I am totally in the search and destroy mode. I could give her so much more ROOM! We could ORGANIZE! We could re-arrange furniture! How snotty is that, to offer your house and then the Wedda wants to CHANGE it. I could be paranoid...
- No blogging means more time for books...Currently? Reading an interesting mix of romance/fiction. The Secret of the Pink Carnation, by Lauren Willig. I am enjoying it, but not a lot of time to read (boo!!) and next up is The BookThief, by whoever wrote it--takes place in Nazi Germany, so I expect it will be a little darker (ya think?) but I am totally looking forward to it.
- No blogging won't last much longer because I'm pining away for all of the stories I am NOT reading.
- The MAN still blocking damn near everything at work. Damn the Man.
- TV? no clue. I can tell you that I am increasingly disturbed by the lack of brown people on Spanish TV. The only "Indian" looking mexicans portrayed are comic figures so stereotyped, it's almost minstrel-like. The soap operas are full of blond anglo looking women so full of silicone and collagen they are almost parodies, too. It's astonishing that ANY little Latina girls are making it to adulthood with their self esteem intact. Nobody looks like Selma Hayek, or Penelope Cruz, or Eva Longoria, even. Everyone looks like Blonde Streetwalking Barbie. How can there be more beautiful latina looking women on American TV than on Spanish TV? As the mother of a beautiful dark haired, dark eyed girl, it's really pissing me off. We won't even go into the hooched out fashion and hooched out women posing as half naked school girls. grrr....grrrr....grrrr
Thursday, September 27
Tuesday, September 25
Friday, September 21
Tuesday, September 18
She ran to get it, and when she hit the living room, she paused, held it up and sang "Ahhh-AHHHHH!"
Oh, my bloggy friends, what have I done? This is sooooo my move. Down to the holding it up as if a light was shining down from the clouds.
I was dying.
I asked Little O what that was about, and she says,
"It's the Magic of Coffee, Mama."
If she ever stopped talking to take a breath, and did not demand active participation in her conversations these days, I would keep her home instead of sending her to Preschool, today.
Love my O's.
Monday, September 17
Mailman just came.
Little O is home with me today.
Remember when all of the seventies bands had secretly sold their souls to the devil, and everyone played records (HA! RECORDS!!) backwards to hear the evil messages... C'mon, this wasn't just a Seventh Day Adventist thing, right?
Well friends I am here to tell you there is a new source of EEEEEvil in the world, cleverly disguised as wholesome girl power fun. I used to be a part of it.
The mailman brought us our first ever American Girl Catalog today.
Good Hell. (Thanks, Maria.)
Eighty-seven dollars per doll, with each accessory being sold separately. And there are pages and pages of accessories.
I love the modern American Girl books. The crafty ones, the ones about puberty, and hygiene. The historical books are....alright. I used to host American Girl parties at the bookstore. For the most part, they were a hoot.
This catalog is so very very wrong. Little O is pouring over it, it is her new bible and best friend all rolled into one. Shit, she just found the matching pajamas for girl and doll.
Evil in a 60 page catalog.
Sunday, September 16
We have reached the halfway point in this journey to homelessness, and I MUST give a mighty shout out to
The whirling Dervish that is an uncaffeinated
Okay, I see why she does not drink coffee. She would be unstoppable. This chick single handedly packed up my entire kitchen. The WHOLE thing. She rocks.
That is all.
Wednesday, September 12
Hi, my name is Jen, and I am a birthday-holic.
Yes, friends, that time is almost upon us. We alternate years here. An even year means Big gets a party, odds are reserved for Little O. (If I ever have a third, I am screwed on several levels.)
Little O was enchanted with the Alien masks we made for Big O's party last year. Being a soon to be five year old girl, however, as well as being MY daughter, Little O had to bring it up a notch (Okay, that might have been me). But the theme is totally on her. It started out very simply. Then Cade at daycare told her he did not want a GIRLY mask. So I found a boy thing. But for the mask to work, the ears were going to have to be attached separately, and would spin.
It's HER birthday, for Pete's sake. The boys can't have something COOLER than the girls.
Which is how I ended up making thirty-two tissue paper flowers (and counting).
My name is Jen. I'm a birthday-holic.
27 years old from Canton, Ohio
703rd Ordinance Compan, supporting the 82nd Airborne Division
February 8, 2004
Richard Ramey always knew what he was going to be. Once, while in the third grade, his teacher asked him what he wanted to do when he grew up. His response? "I’ll go to war and fight" Concerned by his answer, his teacher called his mother, Julie Ramey. She told her "No, that's my son".
SSgt. Ramey was killed when insurgents attacked his and other convoys in Mahmudiyah, Iraq.
"Richard loved to do his job. No matter where it would take him," said his mother. "He really felt deeply that he wanted to protect people that couldn’t protect themselves"
In a statement released through Fort Knox, the Ramey family said, "He was adventurous and smart, combining both qualities in what he did for the Army. We knew his work was dangerous but also knew he wouldn’t have wanted to do anything else".
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.
My big beautiful nephew has re-upped. sigh. His younger brother has been assigned a ship upon completion of his training. sigh. I am proud as hell of both of them, but keep 'em in your prayers, okay?
Tuesday, September 11
Originally uploaded by dicesix.
Blog friends are a strange phenomenon. Most you've never met, and never will. But they have let you into some small part of their lives, and even if you are a shy lurker, they affect you with their writing and (for me) their humor.
This red dress is in honor of Greg Beck, a man I never met, but whose writing made me feel like I had. I feel like a dork for getting misty eyed over someone I never met, but there ya go. I will miss his wicked, profanity laced take on every day stupidity, his ghost stories, and his insight.
The girl in the picture is moving out of the frame--hopefully on to something wonderful. Here's hoping Greg has done the same.
Rest in Peace
Sunday, September 9
Where are the packing fairies when you need them...
I'll be back soon...unless I go live with my MIL, in which case you'll al be stuck with emailed posts from work with no photos or visits/comments from me. (SOB!)
See?? Even now I'm stalling to avoid the boxes.
The Honey? He's found a Steelers Bar here in town, and invited a buddy from Roseville down to watch them at ten on a Sunday morning. Because I refuse to get cable. So I kind of did it to myself.
HAAA!! I'm still stalling!
Bow down before me, the Mistress of Procrastination! One week until we are homeless!!
Friday, September 7
Soldiers are being maimed and killed because we don't allow the GOOD body armor, even if sent from home, and you KNOW not all of the humvees were sent over properly equipped. I know there isn't anything we can do to take that back.
But the fuckers in that Rolling Stone article should be prosecuted. Villified. Could we spend oh, say, one tenth of Paris Hilton's airtime on something that matters? Can we see a story about how the staggering debt we've incurred is residing in these men's pockets?
(This article was stolen from Some Guy's Blog. No, really--Some Guy's Blog.)
They are finally at least naming that poor baby in Portugal's parents as suspects. I'd say yay, but I can't really find an upside to the loss of an innocent. Justice, I suppose, but that really remains to be seen, doesn't it? UGH.
Wednesday, September 5
The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
View More Thursday Thirteen Participants
Tuesday, September 4
Me too, baby.
Little O is watching The Wizard of Oz for the first time. Mama, she does NOT look right.
The tornado hits and I ask Little O what happened.
Mama, it is a VERY wind day at her house...
California living, baby. Not a clue what a tornado is...