Sunday, February 24

Sunday Quizzez

See my brainscanner results

This came out verrry differently each time I varied my name.

This one? My geekery fails me. I took this test because Transformers tickeld me, but I know not what this is...

ABC Warrior!
Which Colossal Death Robot Are You?
Brought to you by Rum and Monkey

Here's the Rum and Monkey Clarification:

In bars frequented by colossal death robots, you're always the quiet guy at the back who no-one ever bothers. And for good reason. You've fought in several nuclear wars, could beat the sun in a staring match, and have a chin larger than many articles of furniture. Morals are not a concept you understand, but strangely enough, nobody ever questions your judgement. Usually because they're dead. Even Judge Dredd wets himself when you turn up. Grrrr.

Maybe it's a cable thing...

I found this one funny because (being overly endowed)they did not list my size, the jerks~~

Your Celebrity Boob Twin:

Jenna Jameson

Friday, February 22

Wednesday Heroes

I haven't been posting Wednesday Heroes because I haven't been posting much, and I don't really want this to be the Wednesday Hero Blog. But shit like this just makes my blood boil.

I wish we as the American people could prosecute the people who send our troops over under funded and ill equipped, make no provisions for the long term consequences, and still sleep at night cashing in on their Earmarks. Right along with Halliburton and the other bullshit contractors raking in bonuses for doing shit jobs.



On a lighter note, finally saw Transformers, and while I never watched the original cartoon, I thought it kicked ass.

That is all.

Thursday, February 14

SATAN in a fishbowl the size of a grapefruit.

Freaking blogger lost my post!

So no poetic ode the chocolate lab, most noble of dogs, boon companions and killers of overpriced toys. (My brohter's mammoth sized lab got to sleep inside when it was freezing, and snuck into the pantry and ate....wait for it... a box of crackers and my brother's Silpat. HA! This is in the fine family tradition, since our dog when we were kids snuck into the garage and ate my father's wet suit.) I find it astonishing that both dogs survived--not so much for the eating of the Silpat as the PASSING of the Silpat, but definitely for the EATING of the wetsuit.

I am not a person who yearns for eighteen pets. I would love a dog for the kids if I didn't know that I would be the one scooping up after it. I scoop up enough non-smelly oozy things in my role as mom. Literally adding shit to the list is not high on my priorities. But I figure pets in all forms teach kids, and so I caved last weekend and bought a fish.

Big O has been down the aquatic path, and he learned about the sometimes brief lifecycle of a carp. I thought we should get something hardy for Little O, and so we bought a Betta. People keep those in their offices in tea cups for pete's sake. We could manage this...

Until I got home and googled how to set up your tiny new fishbowl. That's when I found out that I am Beelzebub for confining the noble Betta to such hideous living conditions. I think one website may have suggested that I might also live in a baby seal coat, with a steady diet of veal, and list michael vick as a friend on MySpace.

Our Betta seems okay in the wee bowl that I bought for Big O's cell model for seventh grade science. But I have yet to see it eat the pellets the pet store sold us. sigh.

Back to the pet store on Friday for a bigger bowl (One gallon of water per inch? I have to buy a TWO gallon tank for the stupid desktop fish? AND freeze dried blood worms?)

Would I get called in for a parent teacher conference next year if my kindergartner tells her class she has a fish named Beelzebub? Can I convince her that was Belle's full name in Beauty and the Beast?

Thursday, February 7

Love My O's

Little O was feverishly pouring over the shiny box of Valentines we bought last night.

"Mama, do you like the girl with the purple hair?

Mama, this card says LOVE L-O-V-E, that's love, right Mama?

Mama, there are four boys names.




Ah, life with a five year old. Then she threw this one out,

"Mama--THIS card is for Hannah! Mama, LETTERALLY, this card is FOR HANNAH! See? It has an "H". H is for Hannah."

This gives me high hopes for her vocabulary. We just have one thingle thing to get rid of...

Wednesday, February 6

Let Me Ask You a question...

Do you fight with your siblings?

The Honey gleefully threw me to the wolves over Christmas by announcing at the dinner table that my family doesn't fight. It's true. His siblings laughed and jeered and then saw that he was serious, and then they were just puzzled.

I thought maybe because there are seven of them and only two of us, but tonight I was talking with my sweet old landlady. Despite being in their fifties, her only two children are still locked in a bitter rivalry over their mother's affection--Who she loves more.

I have been mulling over this fighting thing in my head, and honestly, I can't think of anything that would be more important to me than my brother. That would SUNDER my relationship with him. We bickered when we were kids, but I have always known that my brother would have my back, keep my secrets, and give his left kidney, if it came to that. I would do the same.

When I look at the Honey's sibs, I think maybe it's that you have to agree with them. My brother and I don't agree on everything, but we don't feel the need to be RIGHT. We just move on and silently agree to disagree. The Honey's sibs can't rest until you convert to their thinking--if you fall prostrate on the floor and writhe in agony as you scream, "How could I have been so BLIND?" it will all be over much quicker, but none of them have really adopted this as a strategy. Instead they fight and snipe and talk a little shit. We talk a little smack in my family, but it's always in fun. The Honey gets himself in trouble with my family because his family gets mean and mine does not, and my family will stop laughing once they realize it's getting mean.

I am only raising two kids, but I am not raising them with the stability my parents gave me. I wish I was. I can't imagine my kids fighting as adults. It would break my heart. But I am sure that every parent raises their kids with the intention of a close, loving bond as the end result. The Honey and his sibs love each other, and would do most anything for each other, but how do I give my kids the gift of peace? With each other, with their future partners, their co-workers?

I guess that's part of the adventure, that you just don't know how it will turn out.

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Tuesday, February 5

So about that weight loss thing....

Yeah.  Country fried steak and eggs for lunch may not have been the brightest idea.  But meeting Little O and the Honey for lunch at Denny's was just not a good idea in the first place- at least not in a weight loss sense.
I am craving a really good book but nothing I have picked up lately is hitting the spot.  The Kate Elliott (SP?) that I picked up at the supermarket finally caught fire just in time to stop--the second one isn't out until April or May.  I need to be willing to throw down a little cash and buy the second Scott Lynch.  sigh.
Little O does not have a lisp. Let me say that up front.  But she is CONVINCED that the word single is pronounced "thingle".  She still calls them Waterlemons, too.  She's AUDIBLY dyslexic?  I dunno. 

Friday, February 1

Here We Go Again

Weight Loss Contest 2008.
The Evil Accountant is out of it this time, having triumphed last year.
Just beloved Co-workers 1-6.
Less money, more pride.
I start today at 225.  
Wish me luck.  Under 200 by May 1st.