Ditsy Chick

Crash Into Me

2010-01-27T22:41:00.004-07:00

I hit someone today. No, I didn’t bitch slap anyone, I worked at home so the opportunity didn’t present itself. No we aren’t here to discuss my bitch slapping or lack thereof, but my giving a rectal to an unsuspecting motorist in front of me on the road today. First of all, let me just say if you are going to do the motorized version of a UFIA, this was the woman to go after, she was so nice about it. Which made me feel even worse for ruining her day.

What did I do? I hit the back of her car, duh. Why? Sheer stupidity. Clearly it was my fault. Thank goodness no one was hurt.

We did wait 30 minutes for a police officer to come to the scene, because we did not have any injuries and the damage to the cars was minimal. Again, this was a pain for the person whose car I felt the need to play rectal thermometer with, because she was taking her grandson who had just gotten out of the hospital and needed to be taken to a doctor’s appointment. I was late picking up my kids from school. The school was great about it, they kept them for an hour while I dealt with the wreckage that is my life.

The officer was female and she was also very nice. I appear to be the only asshole in this entire post, so I have that going for me.

She called me over to the car at one point and said:

PO: You don’t weigh as much as your driver’s license says, how much do you weigh?

Me: Yeah, I've lost some weight. I weigh ..... (hell no I am not publishing that shit on my blog)

PO: Your tags are expired.

Me: But it is paid and registered

PO: Call your insurance agent and get your current renewal and valid dates for your policy.

Me: Okay.

PO: I am going to have to cite you for not controlling your speed.

Me: I know.

PO: I will take your word about the registration, it isn't coming up on my computer. (Who would have thought I would ever be grateful for cellular dead spots?)

So to summarize: she did not write my sorry ass up for not having current insurance cards, a wrong address on my Driver’s License, although my car is registered the tags never appeared in that blackhole everybody else refers to as a mailbox. Nor did she ask me if I was a crack whore, drunk or both (yay soccer mom getup and mini-van, we skated on those charges!) on my way to get my kids. She rocked. She apologized for having to cite me, I thanked her for being kind.

My final conclusions; always carry KY Jelly in the glove box, along with your current insurance cards and registration and thank you to 2 ladies that could have made a bad day so much worse.

P.S. To my insurance agent, pimpin more insurance coverage, while I am standing on the side of road talking to a police officer, not the best marketing strategy ever.

A Good Ribbing

2009-09-20T10:57:00.005-07:00

For those of you who have read my tweets or followed my blog for awhile, you should be aware my brother is gay. He is very open about being gay and I am in no way anything less than supportive of him and his sexuality. He is, however, my brother and therefore fair game in the world of sibling ribbing. His boyfriend arrived in town this week and the night before his boyfriend flew into our lovely city, the following exchange took place at my parent’s house, in front of my beleaguered, Catholic, mother.

Bro: I bought this new razor, buy one get one free, it looks like a good one.

Me: What are you shaving?

Bro: (points to his beard)

Me: For starters, at least, manscaping is so considerate.

Bro: (Mouthing to me) SHUT UP!!!

A few minutes later he comes out and asks if the beard line under his chin is even.

Mom: Yes, it looks good!

Me: Why do you care? He is only going to see the top of your head.

Mom: What? What did she say?

Me and Bro (together): Nothing!

My brother, who has a very red face this point (irritation or embarrassment, you decide), begins mouthing things to me, that I think, translates to – shut up or I am going to hurt you in ways you have never even dreamed of before this moment!

I think that is what he said, I have never been all that great at lip reading. I totally got the finger gesture he threw out though! *tsk* How rude!!!

Yna's Unemployed

2009-08-12T14:08:00.011-07:00

I have recently become unemployed and Denice suggested I try writing to work through some things through our blog. It’s been a traumatic month, to say the least. Thank the Good Lord for modern medication and good friends or I don’t think I would have made it. It’s amazing how much of your identity is tied to your work. Needless to say, I’m having a bit of an identity crisis. So I would like to share some of my feelings …. about daytime TV. Daytime TV sucks. Holy crap on a cracker!!! Here are some of the shows I love to hate:

Criss Angel: Mindfreak

All his tricks have so much drama involved. He always has these “consultants” (his brother, his uncle, etc.) giving commentary on his tricks. “Oh my gosh, he might die!!” “This is so dangerous, I advised him not to do it, but he’s crazy, he’s a mindfreak.” “One wrong move and it could kill him.” On one episode where he was being buried alive, his girlfriend and his mom were on saying “I wish he wouldn’t go through with this” “Let’s pray for him!!” Do viewers actually believe in this?!!! Come on people, it’s called an illusion, for a reason…. it’s FAKE. We can do without the drama.

Most Haunted

I’m not really into these ghost hunting shows – mainly because I usually end up freaking myself out when I am home alone at night. I love to hate this one just for the hostess. There is a medium/psychic, two investigators and this woman host. They follow the medium around while he talks about the ghosts he senses. But here’s my favorite part…. every time they hear a noise or something moves, the hostess shrieks. Shrieks, screams, trembles and runs!!! Really. You’ve got to be kidding me. Lady, you are with a bunch of people on a ghost hunt in the middle of the night. You are probably going to run into some unexplained things. Duh.

And I’m in infomercial hell. They have 3 channels on DirectTV that sell jewelry 24 hours a day. 3 channels. 24 hours a day. I’m sick of Marie Osmond and Nutrisystem, Billy Mays and the Awesome Auger and 5 different companies selling insurance for car repairs. There's the Shark vacuum, the BowFlex, the BumpIts, and the Magic Chopper. Wow. So much crap for lonely, credit card-toting, unemployed, chubby, flat-haired, lazy.... uh, I think I'll stop here.

It’s hard to be home alone in a quiet house, so I’ve had the TV on for company, mostly. You’d think I’d be able to get a ton of things done, but I’m still emotionally exhausted. I hope to get to the “productive” stage soon.

A New Plan

2009-08-07T20:07:00.005-07:00

I know someone who works with a rescue for animals, actually several someones. It seems like a rather noble cause and I would like to jump on the bandwagon (because if I can't actually do it out of the goodness of my heart, at least it will beef up my dating profile).

"Thank you for calling the wayward home for aging cougars, how may I help you?"

"What? Oh, yes, we do find a lot of them hanging around Scottsdale. Did you want to drop her off at the rescue?"

"Oh, yes, we have a plastic surgeon come in and consult with our cougars once a week. Sir, I assure you, we will take the best of care with your cougar. Why, we even have on site tanning beds and a full service day spa."

"What's that? Oh, my, well no, you can't do that here, but we do have weekly bus trips to Scottsdale where she would be able to get her groove on every Saturday night. We tag our cougars to make sure they come back home with us and don't get left behind."

"By the way, how old did you say you were? Really 24? Do you like a more mature woman? Because you have a sexy voice there tiger. Oh, no reason, just part of the admission questionnaire. Now where were we?"

"Excuse me? She has a what??!! What??!! Did you say her shirt says? No! I am afraid we can't take a BYU cougar in, we have had issues in the past with being able to pay for the groceries it takes to keep them at our location. My apologies, it just never seems to work out."

"Very well. Thank you for calling. Have a cougarlicious day!"

*Disclaimer - I am not a cougar. Nope, I like my men housetrained, thank you very much.

The Official Ditsy Chick Girls' Weekend Shopping List

2009-08-01T11:53:00.004-07:00

It's on...our Girls' Weekend in Salt Lake City. Here is the itemized list of what we purchased last night at Wal-Mart:

Brownie Mix
12 Pack Diet Coke
12 Pack Diet Coke
12 Pack Diet Coke
Red Bull (duh!)
Dove Milk Chocolate Squares
Farr Vanilla ice cream
Eggs
Smuckers Carmel Syrup
Skippy Peanut Butter
Skippy Peanut Butter
Skippy Peanut Butter
Skippy Peanut Butter
Cashews
1 Liter of Sprite

We also made a run to the State (run) Liquor Store (there should be a joke in there about a state that is 70% Mormon running a liquor store, but I will leave that one alone for now) and bought Vodka, Sour Pucker Mix and Jose Cuervo Margarita mix! This was for the debauched pleasure of the non-Mormon contributor to this blog. Unfortunately, even though I attempted to get drunk and loose BFF said she would not take advantage of me. Still no spooning, either. Can't blame a girl for trying.

I dunno, we may have to go back to the store today, because we are running low on sugar and Diet Coke. The good news is, it does look like we are going to be okay on the peanut butter supply. We'll keep you posted.

You Live, You Learn

2009-07-05T09:09:00.007-07:00

Well after 4 relationships that didn’t work out in the last year (I have a couple of months to go…so maybe I could hit 5 or 6 failed relationship by then and you didn’t think I had a relationship goal, did you?). I can safely say I have learned some things about dating and I made a list of what those things are…many of these I was aware of before my latest tour down relationship lane and they served me well. I thought I would share them. They are not a definitive study and I am (clearly) not a relationship expert, but I am sharing them none the less.

It had been 17 years since I dated, until last year. Dating has changed in some very basic ways that you should be aware of, the first of which is that you cannot assume the person you date is only seeing you. By that same token, they should not assume that you are only seeing them. You both have to have an up-front discussion about dating other people at the same time or being exclusive (and in at least one of my relationships, hope like hell they are honest about whether or not they are dating other people/reconnecting with one of their previous girlfriends).

Here are the things I observed over the past year:

1) Be honest with the person (or persons) you are dating. This does not mean that you have to disclose everything that you have done in the last 30 odd years of your life. It is perfectly acceptable to state that you don’t feel like you are in a point in your relationship where you feel comfortable answering the question.

2) Men approach dating and relationships in a fundamentally different way and timeline than women. Men often jump into a relationship with both feet (and both heads), they get excited, they say things too soon and most likely, will scare the hell out of you with their exuberance. I have come to believe they can’t help it. So, keep that in mind when they are making statements that seem premature for where you are in a relationship. For most men, the thrill of the chase is the best part of the relationship. Women seem to take more time to assess the relationship and where they want to go, so about the time you get comfortable with things…he starts to lose interest, because you have been “caught” and the excitement begins to wane. If a long-term relationship is in the cards for the both of you, this can be worked through, but don’t be surprised when the guy suddenly loses interest and breaks it off at this point.

3) If you aren’t happy or getting what you want out of the relationship, especially early on, you need to assess if you really want to continue dating this person. Female intuition is still something that is often scarily accurate.

4) This one, I will say, I fell down on so badly, it’s pathetic, but I finally got it. When a guy starts backing off and not calling or texting as often (I am not saying that you won’t hear from them, but there is a definite cooling off from his side), doesn’t find reasons to see you as often (without a good reason, such as they had to do an emergency rescue in Antarctica and the are really out of cell phone range for a few days)….they are done with you. Trust me on this one, they have found someone else or turned their dating profile back on or thinking being alone wasn’t so bad…D-O-N-E! (Don’t believe me? Go see ‘He’s Just Not That into You’.)

5) More often than not, as people in this politically correct age, we only state out loud, what we like about someone and keep the rest to ourselves. Men really tend to do this, when dating. They will tell you only the things they like about you and your relationship. They will rarely state, at least early on in the dating process, if there is something they don’t like (again, this is where your intuition comes in handy). You have to look for non-verbal cues to supplement how things are going. And don’t ever hesitate to have a good conversation with your partner about what they think or how things are going.

6) Make sure they are over their ex. Getting over any long-term, deeply committed relationship is difficult for everyone. Make sure the person you are dating is ready to be in a relationship with someone else (in this case, you). So, for example, if they are telling their ex’s parents that they still love their daughter, while making plans to go out with you…I would call this a major red flag. Run, don’t walk to the nearest exit.

If things don’t work out when dating, here are a few things to keep in mind…

I fell down hard on this one too, but learn from me on this, make a clean break (especially if you have not been dating for a long period of time). Get rid of their phone numbers, emails, Facebook, MySpace, address, mementos….whatever you have of the relationship and if you can’t bring yourself to actually permanently get rid of the stuff, dump it in a box somewhere and put it in a place where you can’t easily get to it. Reliving and rehashing and keeping in contact with the person, is only going to draw out the break-up process and make things more painful.

Most of all be happy with yourself, know your worth, remember the good and always learn something about what you want and need from a relationship. There are things you can’t control and it isn’t always going to work out with every guy you date. Good luck.

In the words of Bill and Ted, “Be excellent to each other”.

It's Complicated

2009-06-09T11:12:00.009-07:00

So I met this guy....

You might be aware that I have 3 boys, if any of the pictures of them and stories on my blog have escaped your notice, I am telling you I have 3 boys.They are my whole world. I don't want to blog about what it is like having them gone for the summer, because I want to avoid the pity party that comes along with it. I am really not going to tell you much about the guy I am dating either. What I do want to talk about is dating with kids, after divorce.

It is usually really hard for me to have time to go out on a date, but since my boys are gone, that is not the case right now. Which means I have the rare opportunity to see someone fairly frequently, which has been nice.

Now for the complicated part, I have kids and an ex. He has kids and an ex and she is dating as well. So, when you get into a relationship you have all these dynamics to deal with and think about. When do you let him meet the kids? When should I meet his kids? How much interaction should I have with his kids? How am I going to like his ex? When should his kids meet my kids? Is he going to get along with my ex (given that my dweebish ex moved away, this isn’t a huge issue at the moment)? Are his kids going to like me? Am I going to like his kids (I do, they are good kids)? Are my kids going to like him? Is he going to like my kids (puhlease, who wouldn’t love my sweet little cherubs)?

The truth is, it is a relief for me to not have to worry about him meeting my kids for awhile. I made a huge mistake of introducing my boys to someone I dated (he had been my friend and had I planned on dating him at the time, I would not have let him meet them so soon). When I told my boys he wasn’t coming over anymore, they looked so sad and said, “But he is our friend too.” I am not EVER doing that to my kids again. If someone is meeting my boys, it will be someone who will be in my and their lives for the long haul.

The rest is going to just have to work itself out.

Temper, Temper

2009-05-17T21:48:00.010-07:00

Here is a picture at the scene of the accident. It wasn't a true t-bone hit, thank my luck stars. It was a low speed accident and no one was seriously injured. Things could have been much worse.

If you follow me on Twitter, you are well aware I was in an accident a week ago. I remained fairly calm right after the collision. I made sure the kids were okay and that my brother was alright, looked over and made sure it looked like everyone in the other vehicle was doing okay. I started to call the insurance company (it was on private property, so I knew the police wouldn't come for the accident). I took a few deep breaths and tried to stop shaking. I had even managed to roll down my window and speak to the guy that hit us.

All-in-all, I was doing well.

For about 5 minutes.

That is about the point where a lady came up behind my van and honked her freakin horn, so that I would move. Apparently, the other car I was attached to, completely escaped her notice. I was on the phone with the insurance at that point, so I rolled down my window and motioned for her to go around my car. This earned me a nasty look. As she passed by my car, she looked at me and clearly said, "bitch".

WTF?!!! OH, NO YOU DIDN'T!!!! Was my immediate response. How could she have missed the fact that there was an accident? Did she care? We were ruining her day because it took an extra couple of seconds to around my car? I would have gladly have traded her sorry ass places. Most of this passed through my mind in a split second.

I immediately honked on my horn (to make sure I had her undivided attention) and gave her the single finger salute (flipped the bird, used the universal gesture for 'fuck off you clueless skag', ahem you get it, moving on now), yelling, "Who are you calling bitch?" as she drove off. (Yeah, my kids heard and saw the whole thing, had this not been right after an accident, I would like to think I would have behaved myself, guess we'll never know for sure, will we?)

My brother looked at me from the passenger seat and said, "I'll get out and talk to him (the guy that had hit us)".

"Yeah, that might be a good idea."

A Talk with My Oldest Son

2009-04-19T20:25:00.002-07:00

On Thursday, I took the day off and went on a field trip with my 10 year old. The field trip lasted from 9 am to 8:00 pm and was at an outdoor center near Phoenix. It was a long day, but I have to be honest, I learned new things and I know my son did too. We ended the night singing under the stars with the teachers and all the fourth graders from my son's school (it was freezing, but reminded me of my camp days as a kid, in a good way).

A few times during the day I noticed my son was not paying attention to key instructions and after the second or third time this happened, I lectured him. The fourth, fifth and sixth time I caught him not listening and following instructions, I lectured him quite strongly about paying attention (when I probably should just be grateful it isn't just his mother he doesn't pay attention to on any given day).

I thought it over and talked to him today about the lectures I had given him.

"Do you remember the couple (cough, cough) of times I told you to pay better attention during the field trip? Bud, you have to pay attention to directions. "

"I am and I am going to pass all my classes."

"That isn't the point, it is important for getting on in life, but I am sorry I was so stern with you on Thursday, I had a wonderful day and should not have been as abrupt as I was with you."

"Hey, mom, where is our car?"

"Bud, BUD! Are you listening to what I am saying?"

"What?!!"

He then looked at me and started laughing.

"I couldn't help myself," he said. "C'mon, mom it was funny, you have to appreciate that."

I did laugh and then proceeded to shake him, playfully, by the shoulders.

I am now quite certain he gets what I was saying AND he has inherited the smartass gene. I am such a proud momma.

Loss

2009-04-06T13:28:00.004-07:00

I have twittered a bit about losing weight. I wanted to talk a little more about the whole process. I had started a new blog with my BFF in June of last year, we were going to behave and lose weight together. We had done LA Weightloss together and had done well, but I fell off the wagon. Actually, I thought to myself last Christmas, “who cares what I look like, I am not going to meet anyone, so Fuck it.”

By June I was back into a size 16. I was so bad about eating anything and everything, thinking food was going to fix some inner craving that I just could not seem to satisfy. So, dieting was the plan, once again, but I found all the same hurdles everyone does for why diets fail, time, appetite and eating to deal with stress. I didn’t do a great job with the diet, but I did lose some weight.

In July, I divorced. I literally woke up one day and thought, “I am not a teenager anymore. Why am I eating like one?” I am so out of shape, my clothes don’t fit and what if something happens to me? Who would take care of my kids?” Suddenly, I realized all the food I was eating wasn’t making the craving I seem to have in my soul, go away and food no longer looked appetizing. At about this time, I had started a downward slide into depression, which I believe decreased my appetite as well. I don’t recommend depression as something to decrease your appetite, the side effects of depression are deadly and I dealt with that on its own. In the end I started eating less and better. I exercised and I lost weight.

There isn’t a magic pill that I have found. It took a whole lot of self-restraint, tracking what I ate and keeping to some sort of exercise routine. But here I am 9 months later, a size 6 and 65 pounds lighter. I met with a trainer in Saturday and in order to be considered in Excellent condition for my age, I still need to lose 6% of my body fat. I have to work with weights and build muscle. It is sad to think if I am only in the Fair category now, what was I 65 pounds ago?

My older body isn’t the same as my body I had in my 20’s, which is the last time I wore a 6. There are pieces of my body, where I just look and go WTF? This skin that hangs over bra under my arms, my tummy skin from my babies (I’ll deal with the extra skin, I had 3 healthy children, a more than fair trade, when you get right down to it) those pockets of squish on the outside and inside of my thighs and everything just generally sags, but it is better than it was, when I was heavier.

I get laughed at now, when I say I have more to lose, sometimes I get a lecture. I don’t know that I will ever be able to see myself as I really look now. I will probably always think I am bigger than I am and think of myself as fat. I am relying on my friends and family to be my mirror for me now.

I am just so very proud that I have started taking care of myself, something I so desperately neglected while I was married. Thanks to all of the people who helped me along the way, the encouragement, telling me I was gorgeous, all of it. I did this for myself, but I could not have done it without you.

Oh and for the record, I still hate pictures of me. Losing weight didn't fix this issue for me. I think this is one thing I will just have to learn to live with.

Gardening

2009-03-28T17:04:00.004-07:00

I was at Lowe's the other day and saw freesia and calla lillies in the gardening department. They are two of my most favorite flowers, so I decided I needed to put them in a planter on my porch. I am not much of a gardener, but how bad could putting a planter together be?

It actually was not all that difficult, once I got past step 2. Step 1, I poured the rocks, I bought for the bottom of the planter, into the planter. Step 2, is where I took the tab off the planter and it said, "drill a hole at the bottom of the planter before adding soil and plants." This may not seem like a difficult task and it might not of been, if I had a drill (lost it in the divorce, major battle with the ex over the power drill, lots of emotional scarring, I can't really talk about it...). So, I poured the rocks back out onto a nearby chair.

Since I don't have a drill, I improvised! I used a hammer and a screwdriver. Let's just say this didn't work. In fact, I am actually down one screwdriver after I shattered the handle off the screwdriver in my vain attempts to put a hole in the bottom of the planter.

So, there my planter, rocks and plants sat, on my porch for the better part of a week. Until my dad came over and drilled a hole in the planter for me. Here is what my finished planter looks like.

I don't know how long these plants will survive in the heat, but today, I am a gardener!

Sometimes digging in the dirt can be good for the soul.

Spirits In The Material World

2009-03-22T18:51:00.002-07:00

My father has been transferring old VHS home videos to DVD over the past couple of weeks. He has the VCR plugged into an adaptor and runs them into the computer, so you can watch what is being recorded. I have seen pictures of myself and my brother from those oh, how I wish I could forget, years of teenage awkwardness and braces. My parents questionable fashion choices of the past.

Good GOD, they were the same age then, that I am now. I don’t look that old do I? Of course, not.

The other day I walked into my parents den and saw ghosts on the computer. There was my grandmother who had passed away the same year I graduated from high school and my aunt, who died of lung cancer some years ago.

Stunned doesn’t even begin to express what it was like to see and hear my grandmother again. I think for me one of the things I am never quite sure about is if I remember correctly what her voice sounded like. I was so glad to realize I had. My grandmother was quiet for most of the recording I saw, happily eating cheesecake. She was a diabetic who loved sweets and each time she ate something she shouldn’t she relished the treat, this was one of the times she was cheating on her diet and you could tell she was loving every second of it.

My aunt, was healthy and playing on the floor with one of my male cousins, her nephew. There she was in all of her snarky glory. I relished in being reminded of her mannerisms and her voice as well.

These were two women, that I spent a great deal of time with as a child, I miss them. However, I am a little embarrassed to say that I was slightly uncomfortable watching them. Wanting to run from the renewed freshness of their passing and while wanting to be able to ask them questions and hug them, but alas, it was just a recording of a moment from long ago.

One day, I will sit down and show some of the movies to my sons. Grateful for having these precious moments to show my children who their Irish great-grandmother was and their great-aunt. They will have more, actions and words. A pale second to meeting their great-grandmother and great-aunt, but special all the same.

Girls Out On The Town

2009-03-09T15:43:00.004-07:00

Last weekend, I had a bit of a girls’ weekend. Myself and a couple of friends went out to a movie, stopped by an Irish Pub and then we went shopping.

The movie was ‘The Reader’ with Kate Winslet and Ralph Fiennes. Sigh, Ralph. I have to say, they did nothing to make him look good, in fact, I rather think they did the opposite. However, he still has his glorious accent and it is Ralph, how bad can it be?

This post is about the wine drinking, both my friend and I had a couple of glasses of wine and then, decided to head over to Victoria’s Secret. I restocked, it was all good. As I was checking out, the very sweet and frigging tiny salesgirl said, “Do you like these tissue bras?” They don’t work for me.” I looked at her, I know she was indicating they were see through and was she thinking I had somehow missed that point? I told her I would wear them with a dark shirt. “Really, I just don’t think they really seem to work.” Okay, that was your last chance, sweetie. “They are for a date.” I said. “Oh, well that is a good idea then.” Honestly, honey, you work at a lingerie shop…it never occurred to you that women (maybe my age threw her?) buy some of these things for slightly less than practical purposes?

On we went to a clothes store, where I tried on some pants and shirts. I made my friend look at the stuff I tried on. She started yelling at me.

“You didn’t grab any 10s did you? They’ve been hanging off you for a month now.”

To which I exited the room telling her, “Nope these are 8s and LOOK they fit, really well.”

“You see how amazed I am they fit, been telling you that for a month. Now turn around, so I can see your ass.”

I bought a couple of pairs of pants, that passed the ass inspection. As I was checking out, my friend ripped a piece of tissue paper off from my Victoria’s Secret bag. I turned to her and yelled as she was walking away….

“Hey, I thought you swallowed!”

“Nope, I am a spitter!”

I looked back at the clerk, saw her face and told her she was going to have to excuse us.

Note to self: No more shopping under the influence.

My Hot Date Saturday Night

2009-02-01T21:19:00.005-07:00

This incredible, exciting, talented, handsome and suave gentleman, was my escort to dinner Saturday night. How did I get so lucky? Well, you can be sure that since this in my blog, I am going to tell you.

As you may have guessed this is my 4 year old son. This story begins a couple of hours before dinner, my oldest son had spent the night with my parents and we had not picked him up, yet. My youngest two were outside playing with one of their friends in the neighborhood. This friend, who is the same age as my middle son, asked if my middle son could spend the night. I told him it was okay, as long as his mother agreed. A few minutes later, his mother came by the house, said middle child could stay and they were going to her parents for dinner, could he come with them? I told her that would be fine.

My little 4 year old suddenly says, "Mom, can I have my shoes on?"

"Honey, no, you can't play outside by yourself."

"I'm not going outside, I am going with brother."

"Honey, you can't they are going and they don't have car seats for you in the car."

This exact conversation happened twice more in the next five minutes. Then, tears. I am almost completely immune to the 'you got in trouble and were warned several times before you were grounded' tears. However, the 'you were stuck with your mother because you are too little' tears, they made me want to cry right along with him. My little one, laid on the stairs and cried like his heart had broken (I can so completely relate to this).

"Do you want to go to dinner with just Mommy? You can pick where we go."

"Okay, YES!"

I ended up talking him into Macaroni Grill (I guess that means, he didn't quite pick where we ate, but in his mind he did and that's what counts, right?). It was pretty easy, I told him you could write on the table cloths with crayons. "Do they have mac and cheese?" "Yes, they do." "Okay, let's go there."

My 'date' for the night and I, drew pictures on the table. I would start drawing something and he would finish it, we drew a Dr. Suess type castle and I taught him how to draw birds in the sky. I drew what was written on his shirt and he finished drawing the shirt and turned it into a self-portrait. We shared an apple cripetti for dessert, he ate the ice cream (ahem, what I actually shared, that is...) and I ate the crispetti.

"Mom, I had fun and I'm going to tell brothers I colored on the table and that they had mac and cheese and it was GOOD! I love you, Mom."

"I love you too little one. Thanks for keeping Mommy company, tonight."

"That's right, because if I weren't here, you'd be scared."

"Yes."

Siblings

2009-01-27T22:09:00.004-07:00

Recently, I went shopping at Target with my children, not all together uncommon, since I have a fatal attraction to the place. I find it amusing to listen to siblings talk to one another when they are in the store. I have a few of the comments, between siblings, from our most recent Target excursion, listed below:

“Don’t touch me.”

“If you give me another flat tire, I am going to kick you.”

“Stop skipping down the aisles.”

“Get that out of the cart, we don’t need those cookies.”

“You hit me with the cart ~ on purpose.” (Resulting in a, "Did not." "Did, too!" "Did, NOT!" exchange.)

“No, you take Squiggy (my 4 year old son) to the bathroom. I am not going with him.”

“Mom said that you can’t buy anymore new shoes.”

“That coloring book is for babies.”

Yeah, l think it might be rather relevant to mention, the siblings in question were myself and my brother, not my children. These are all things my brother said to me while I was in the store. Some people just never grow up!

The final thing my brother yelled at me, before we left the store was…

“Don’t spin down the aisles with the boys. One of you is going to fall!”

Good thing he didn’t have any of his own kids. I don’t think he is a very patient person. ;-)~

This is the post, where I finally earn my one way, non-refundable ticket to he double hockey sticks

2009-01-19T21:59:00.007-07:00

May I give you a brief tour of this post, before you start reading? These are actual responses from the on-line dating service I joined. I will confess, I do have a conscience and I am Catholic, guilt was embedded in my DNA, so I feel bad about posting this, but not bad enough to not do it. That is what confession is for, right? You do something bad, then, confess and that makes you square with the big G in the sky? Here are some things you should keep in mind as you read this:

The bolded questions, are the actual question asked by the dating service.
The white text is the response from some of my matches and the yellow text is my additional comment (and the reason that I am going to hell for this one).
The only balm to my conscience for doing this, is I am sure the men are doing this to my profile and worse. It helps me sleep at night, let me go with it.

OMG. I think it is true love, here is one who loves... Spell Check….swoon.

Put me on the beach with a good book and I'm happy. (a hot lady in a bikini wouldn't hurt either...) and, that statement right there, put me right out of the running.

The one thing XXX wishes MORE people would notice about him is (these responses and the responses to the next 2 questions, belong to the same guy):

That I am crying out for more fun, more love ,more friends, more money, more everything.

The first thing you'll probably notice about XXX when you meet him:
The woman I am with and her appearance, I'm easy to approach, and my down to earth humor and openess.

The one thing XXX is most passionate about:
1.Taking a leisurely ride in my Mercedes with the top down. 2. Loving and carassing a beautiful woman.

Can you say arrogant, self-absorbed, asshat and what is a carass anyway?

One thing that only JJJJ best friends know is:
That I have been through a lot in my life and can still swim underwater for over two minutes. Wow, just wow.

The one thing VVVV wishes MORE people would notice about him is (this question and the next set of answers belonged to the same person):
How insecure I really am!

The things VVV can't live without are:

Starbucks~!
My DVD Player and my TV
My Car
If I had Friends, they would be in this category!
Fishing trips~!

This is my own category on WTF is with the spelling here?

Investmens Specialist (his occupation)
themselfs!
rescently
My hieght
I am an idential twin

The one thing SSSS is most passionate about (same guy for the next two questions):
having great sex

The three things which SSSS is most thankful for:
my sex drive

Oh, uh, how did he end up on my interested list? Oooopsies.

The one thing CCCCC wishes MORE people would notice about him is:
that i am intellegent...

The one thing XXX is most passionate about (a compilation of answers from different profiles):

living life to the fullist
I am thankful for my chikdren
I love staying ative
I HAVE LIFE MASTERED IM TRYING TO GET PAID IN FULL …as well as the Caps Lock button on the keyboard.
I am passionate about whatever is important to me. This is either a really deep or a really shallow answer, can't quite decide which one it is...
I have the BEST job in the world! He says this a couple of times in his profile, but doens't tell you what it is...so I am rooting for elephant stool remover/artificial insemintor.
my kids the outdoors, jeeping, quading, hikeing,and camping
working on my vehicles, jeeping and quading - I guess, I just didn't know that if you add an ing to jeep and quads you ended up with a verb, silly me.
there comfort with me and themselves - For the love of Pete it is their...not there....OMG people, get this right for a change! Ooooh, I am about to start on the difference between, to and too...better stop now.

Occupation: President I thought.... he was married to a woman named Michelle and she doesn't look like the type of woman who shares.

Communications Forman WTF?

Random mutterings about the photos posted on their pages:

Hairy Chest and bushy eyebrows…with another photo of you all sweaty at the bar, oh baby, can't wait to jump on that train! Never smokes on his profile, but he is smoking in one of the photos.
A photo of him in a Chippendales costume. This isn’t fling.com folks, but nice abs.
Best foot forward? Sit up straight!
Dude, your shirt is dirty in all 5 of your pictures. This is not a coincidence.

Guys taking pictures of themselves, using the bathroom mirror - 3

Number of profiles that screamed , “I will slowly bore you to death!” - 8

Number of pictures that were taken in filthy cesspools of a house - 2

If I have to google the city in which you live, I am not interested.

Number of profiles that made me laugh out loud (because they were funny – on purpose) - 4

Yeah, I know, I am never, ever getting a date because of this, sigh. It's okay, I like my dog and once the peanut butter recall is over, my life will be about as perfect as ever.

I Can't Believe I Am Doing This...

2009-01-14T18:19:00.005-07:00

I like my new hair color. So, here ya go. I won't add any snarky comments about my photographs. Instead, I'll just let my family do the talking for me.

My Mom: Did you make her look beautiful?

My Brother: I can only do so much with what I was given to work with.

My family ladies and gentleman. I don't think I was given much to work with either.

Okay, ENOUGH! There are more on Flickr, if you click on one of the photos you can get to them.

I am going to go bang my head against a wall, now. Why, you ask? Because I have clearly knocked something lose and I am hoping it will go back to where it belongs.

Taking Tylenol PM and Hitting My Mattress

2009-01-07T22:18:00.004-07:00

I am taking the evening off tonight. I couldn't be more wiped out if I tried. So, here are some funny retro pictures for your enjoyment.

I am going to sleep in my bed, all alone and spread out, taking up the whole space, because I can and snore loudly. Then, I am going to get up (probably with my hair sticking straight up), with a smile on my face, kiss my children good morning and thank my lucky stars for my life. It is, indeed, imperfectly, perfect.

Let Me Hear Your Body Talk

2009-01-05T17:39:00.013-07:00

I ate my way through the state of Utah over the holidays. Fudge, ham, some crack corn puff thing Yna forced upon me, hamburgers, fries, fries with cheese, mints, chocolate birthday cake, ice cream, egg rolls, noodles with peanut butter sauce on them....as I said, I ate my way through the state of Utah. As such there are a few things my brain would like to discuss with my various body parts (yes, here we go again).

Quick note about the picture, yes it is me and yes, I am drinking with both hands.

Mouth - I am hereby notifying you that you will not be stuffed full every two seconds as you were over the last 2 weeks, so stop asking or you won't like what I do shove in there.

Thighs - I was this [ ] close to respecting you a couple of weeks ago, before the gluttony fest began. You're getting your comeuppance on the eliptical machine. Stop whining about the pain, you helped to bring this on yourself...don't think I haven't noticed the extra spreading you do when we sit down.

Boobs - Okay, let's face it, no one complains when you get bigger. However, I have another bone to pick with you. While I am aware the hormones from the new mirena are stronger than the old one, there is no reason for you to still be aching constantly. Enough already, you have awakened me from my slumber with your complaining on several occasions. I am going to have to start loading up on Tylenol PM just to sleep at night. I've actually considered hiring someone to follow you around and massage you constantly, for relief. I checked into it and I am pretty sure I could find someone with reasonable rates from Craig's List. My one and only requirement is that this person wash their hands after they use the restroom.

Stomach - I know it isn't all your fault - having those three, dear, sweet, cherubs (who are currently grounded for trashing the house in record time, yesterday) left you droopy and sad. I have started a fund to restore you to a resonable fascimile of your former glory. If all goes well, you'll be meeting wtih a surgeon late this year. In the meantime: for the love of God, suck it up and work with me here.

Ass - I'll admit, you've done some improvement back there, but, sigh, I dunno what I am going to do with you. When I catch a glimpse of you in the mirror the only thing I can think of is an alluvial fan. Maybe, the plastic surgeon will see you and throw in a free tune-up for you. Hope springs eternal.

That's it folks, vacation is over and the gravy train you were riding has come to an abrupt halt. Don't worry, you'll thank me for it later.

Insight Into My Subconscious

2009-01-05T13:23:00.007-07:00

I take Zoloft, it is good (for me, anyway). I probably will never get to be off of it, because my brain can’t seem to get the recipe right – you know – the one that stops you from crying 24 hours a day 7 days a week. So be it.

The one thing these pills do, though, is give me the most vivid dreams. Colors and sensations and sometimes, I could swear smells and tastes. Unless it is my brother sneaking into my room and farting in my face at night. I find this doubtful, since, last time he gassed me out of a room it did not smell a thing like fresh baked brownies. Far, far from it, in fact.

I remember these dreams, too. Pretty much all of my dreams have had to do with war and kidnapping. I don’t know why this is, since I have never been to war, not a huge fan of war movies or blood and gore. Maybe my brain feels deprived and is making up for the lack of violence, by dreaming about it, night after night, after night, after night. In December alone, I visited Iraq, Afghanistan and was held hostage in some Latin American country.

I also dreamed I was giving birth to a baby girl (which would be nice, but I AM DONE HAVING CHILDREN!!). I could feel her head ramming against my cervix, as I was giving birth. Why would I do this to myself? For the love of God, I had drugs with all 3 of my children and I dream of (and feel) myself giving natural childbirth?

Can’t I choose what I am going to dream about in living Technicolor?

Heaven knows I haven’t had much variety in my bed. Why can’t I get it in my dreams, at least? I mean that way there are no diseases, risk of pregnancy, head games or messy emotional entanglements. Do I get these types of dreams? Not so much. I’ve had 2 of them, one had to do with a shower (okay, well, just after a shower) and the other had to do with a mirror. They were good dreams, but too few and far between for me. Honestly, why can’t Julian McMahon come and let me play doctor with him? I’m sure I wouldn’t mind smelling him either. Hell, if I had my way, there would be a line of men out the door of my (dream) bedroom every night. Okay, maybe not, I want to be able to walk the next day, but I could handle one or two dreams like this, a week (I don’t want to be greedy, I could have a couple about eating cheese fries and fry sauce, that would be okay, too).

Hey - a girl can dream can’t she?

Sharing

2008-12-14T13:47:00.003-07:00

I sit here, on a Sunday, wool gathering. I shouldn’t be, I have so much to do, but my mind is not cooperating today at all. Maybe if I write, I can get some of it out and then move on with my day.

This year, my children will be with my ex-husband for Christmas. For the first time, ever, I will not see my children on Christmas day. My family has been bugging me to pick a day to have the boys open presents, before they leave. I haven’t done it. I can’t seem to, because if I do, then it is real, they won’t be here. I have about a week to go, so, probably next weekend, I will have faux Christmas with my family. What is the difference of a few days right? I can pretend it is the 25th. They won’t be here for my birthday or New Years Eve, either. They are going to miss our annual visit to the Fiesta Bowl parade and they will be gone for 2 weeks. I can’t stop thinking about them being gone and I have been asking myself, why did I save up vacation time for the weeks they won’t be here? So, I can better savor how long they are gone?

Admittedly, I would like a couple of quiet days, but not as much as I am getting. I am going to travel and visit family, while they are gone, but I wish they were coming with me. The sad thing is, if my ex lived closer, we would celebrate the holidays together with the kids. We get along with one another pretty well and last year, I took the kids to his parents’ house, so we could have Thanksgiving together. It worked out rather well.

I’ve always enjoyed the holidays with my children and my time off at the end of the year. I don’t think I thought through what it meant to have them gone for so long and my being off from work. It will all be fine, my kids will have a great time. For me, if I were mistress of my own destiny (which I am clearly not), I would curl up on a couch and read at my BFF's and speak the fewest amount of words possible. This would actually bring me a great deal of peace, not to try to be perky and funny and sociable around people. I’d embrace my inner introvert with abandon. Alas, I am only getting a few days of my wish. Keep your fingers crossed that it is enough.

Stressed is Desserts Spelled Backwards

2008-12-09T15:11:00.003-07:00

I am spacey on my best day. When I am stressed, my ability to perform ridiculous feats of stupidity reach epic highs. On Sunday, I was having a whale of a day (had a lot on my mind – see below for details). Here is how my afternoon went.

Someone brought me flank steak, because I was too lazy to drive 3 miles to the nearest store to go find one. Yeah, I let someone drive 20 miles to buy me flank steak for my dinner, I don’t know if that makes me really clever or really selfish, probably both. I was making fajitas and was going to grill the steak. After letting the steak marinade for awhile I went to turn on the grill, that, unfortunately, appeared to be attached to one very empty propane tank. I’d blame my husband for this travesty, but, I don’t have one.

At this point it was decided we should order pizza. The delivery time was 45 minutes to an hour. I thought that was too long to wait, so I told them I would pick the pizzas up. About 25 minutes after ordering the pizza, I went to go get it. I arrived, went to pull out my debit card and suddenly, had the clearest memory of shoving it into my coat pocket after using it to buy groceries earlier in the day. I, then, recalled neatly hanging the coat in the hall closet of my house. Sigh. I went home, found my coat, got my debit card and 50 minutes after ordering and deciding not to wait for the delivery guy, I had my pizza.

The good news is this brought endless amounts of amusement to the person who delivered the flank steak to begin with, so, I didn’t have to feel too guilty about being a lazy slob.

Really, really glad I bought the behemoth bag of M&M’s to help ease the pain of the day.

Sticking My Foot In It - Digitally Speaking

2008-11-23T19:59:00.003-07:00

My friend went to a football game today. Here is the texting transcript from her and I, this afternoon.

"I ran into my hs sweetheart at the game. Of course he is married with 2 kids."

"Was he still cute?"

"Yes, trying to send you a picture."

I get a text with a man and a woman in it and respond.

"Yep he is.....she's not that great though."

To which, I get the following response.

"That's my sister."

If someone could just get me a shovel, I'd be all set for the day.

Inappropriate Workplace Conversation

2008-11-15T12:44:00.001-07:00

I feel it is my duty to educate you on things that will probably get your ass canned at work. Here are some examples of lines you should not use at work or while speaking with co-workers:

“I can’t believe McCain didn’t win…what are people thinking?”
“Hey, your elephant in the trunk is showing (referring to party affiliation).”
“Yeah, you need to tuck that back away, will ya?”

“You’re going for a motorcycle ride?”
“I love women that have just ridden on a motorcycle they are so relaxed and happy.”
“You know where the best place to hang on to is, don’t you?”

“Your wife just can’t keep her pants up.”
“And, that God for that…”
“Where as mine has the opposite problem.”

“Oh, my God, with her, you just never know what you are going to see. I was in a meeting with her one day and she leaned forward and I saw her nipple. Felt like I should have had a cigarette after that one.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“Most guys wouldn’t think so…”
“Well, context matters.”

It is entirely possible, these are pieces of an actual conversation I had while at lunch with two of my male co-workers, but due to pending investigation with our HR department, I really cannot comment any further. Now the question is….which one of us do you think is being investigated?

Lunch

2008-11-05T18:47:00.010-07:00

I eat my lunch everyday, pretty much with my same 3 friends. Normally, we just eat in the cafeteria in my office, where I think there motto is, "twice the calories, with half the flavor" and the cooks there specialized in cooking bland, mushy foods for nursing homes while in culinary school. I can't validate that for sure, so just consider that statement an educated guess.

The one good thing the cafeteria has going for it, is the salad bar. Everything there is fresh and there are lots of veggies and fruits to eat. Everyday, I make myself a spinach salad, which I rather enjoy, but yesterday, they didn't have spinach on the salad bar and I just couldn't do the iceberg lettuce salad. I believe this may place me in the realm of a salad snob, but there you have it, I hate iceberg lettuce.

So, my friend and I bit the bullet and stood in the long line for the grill. We both ordered and then, I made myself some fry sauce. I need to stop here for a moment and mention something about fry sauce.

I am from Utah. I think fry sauce, along with green jello salad with carrots are the state food. It is the only place in the nation, where you can go and ask for fry sauce at a fast food joint and get it handed to you in packets, like ketchup. People love the shit. What is it made out of, you ask? Ketchup and mayonnaise, that's it, but to those of us raised on it, it is the nectar of the gods. They even made a fry sauce collectable pin for when the Olympics were in Utah. I am proud to say, I have one.

They don't have fry sauce pre-made here in Arizona (heathens), so I went to make my own, half mayo and half ketchup in a cup…I even put the lid on it. That didn't stop me from dropping it a few minutes later…having it splatter all over the floor and my friend's legs and shoes. She was wearing a dress yesterday, so at least I didn't ruin her clothes. I grabbed napkins, she stuck out her foot and I wiped off the splattered remains of my beloved fry sauce, then I cleaned up the floor. We were the entertainment in the lunchroom at that point. It's okay, though and I did make some more sauce for my french fries.

Once we were seated with our other two friends, we recounted what had happened to us while waiting in line. At which point I turned to my friend and said, "yeah, I looked up your dress while I was cleaning off your feet."

To which she responds, "that's okay, did you notice I didn't have my panties on today?"

I love my friends, in a non-sexual hetero sorta way, of course.

Groceries

2008-10-13T11:19:00.003-07:00

Lately, I have found that I have a true aversion to grocery shopping (phobia is probably the more accurate term, but I am trying to avoid a protracted engagement with a psychiatrist, so, I'll stick with aversion for now). I have determined that it may not all be my recent bout with depression that may be to blame for this, but, rather, where I choose to shop. One of the nicer things about Phoenix is their grocery stores, they have some very nice, clean and kitschy grocery stores.

I don't shop at any of those stores.

I go to Wal-Mart. Why? Because it is by far the least expensive out of all the stores and with 3 kids, well, money counts.

Here are some of my least favorite things about grocery shopping:

My fellow shoppers – I don't ever worry about what I am wearing or if I have even bathed on shopping day, because it is guaranteed that there are several people there, who, uh…gave up personal hygiene for Lent 20 years ago and just never saw the need to pick the habit back up.
Okay and let's be honest here, I have never seen so many rotund people, in one place at one time, in my life (well, other than at the food court at the County Fair in Idaho, potatoes aren't the only things that grow big in that state). I can say this, because, I, myself, am a lardass, but some of these folks are so big their car tilts to one side when they get in it. The courtesy scooters are always out and uncharged, because they have been used to within an inch of their life – I have seen women get into smackdowns over who is getting the last scooter available, it wasn't pretty (although, in the end, I totally, kicked her 70 year old ass – mess with the bull, get the horns, beotch).

The checkout clerks - I have often imagined the testing they perform to hire someone to do checkout at my local Wal-Mart and I think it must go something like this:

Okay, what we need you to do is to move all the cans from this side of the table…to the other side of the table. We'll give you 60 seconds to do this….and the people who actually complete the task are referred to Target for employment opportunities. The applicants that can't move more than a couple of cans in the allotted 60 seconds are hired on the spot.

I think they then take the slowest of the bunch and show them a picture of me and tell them, "make sure she is always in your line".

By the time I leave the store, I have lost over an hour of my life, that I am never going to get back (I mean, I could have been doing something productive, like napping). I've lost faith in the future of the human race and I feel the overwhelming need to bathe.

So, is it any wonder, I have developed a ~~phobia~~, er, aversion to grocery shopping? I think not.

All I can say is, I'm still too cheap to go someplace else, it is a good damn thing those pills I am taking are working out.

I Love This Picture

2008-08-16T17:57:00.005-07:00

That's right, I said that I liked this picture and I am in it (the one on the left). That never happens. You see I have always hated having my picture taken. It's legendary. It almost physically pains me to let someone take my picture. Not this one though. This one was taken by the woman second from the right (who is pregnant with her first child) and these are some of my best friends in the world (Yna isn't there though).

We took these for our friend who is moving to Iowa. We put it into a scrapbook along with other crazy pictures we took in the 108 degree heat. It all turned out, I think.

And for once, warts and all, I am glad I let someone take my picture. I doubt this happens again in my lifetime.

Internet Love Song Part II

2008-08-09T18:24:00.005-07:00

So, I set out on my adventure to find Pam and Tommy, well, mostly Tommy. I searched to see what popped up in Google. I found a site that said it had the video. Clicked on the site and like a true idiot (someone who should know better but does something anyway) when it asked me if I wanted to let the site run an 'Active X' program, I click, 'yes'. For those of you at home who don't know this, never, ever do this from a site you don't trust (i.e. one running porn).

Next, all hell broke loose. My computer had a trojan and it invited it's friends over to party. It took over my admin rights, I couldn't even manage my own computer anymore. Of course, having clicked 'yes' I probably demonstrated that I shouldn't be allowed to have these rights, anyway.

I had to reload Windows and I had to swallow my pride and talk to some of my techno geek co-workers to find out how to remedy the problem. I like my techno geeks, there are days I think I even understand what they are talking about, but damn, do NOT ever get cornered by them for a discussion on Windows versus Linux. My eyes are still glazed over from that conversation and just for fun; one of them threw in a brief spiel about DOS. I finally, fixed my computer, I lost some files (and some of my iTunes songs, chaps my hide that I am going to have to pay for the again), but all in all I did all right.

The moral of this story is best summed up by my conversation with Yna on the incident.

Yna- And how did you get the trojan?

Me - Well, I, uh, wanted to see Tommy Lee...

Yna - You were surfing for porn!

Me - Maybe, if you want to look at it that way.

Yna - And you got a disease for your troubles, that should teach you. Even in the internet world you manage to come up with something like that....

Me - It wasn't me, it was Pam and Tommy, they're the ones with the cooties, they just rubbed off on me.

So, next time I go surfing for porn, I guess I'll just have to be more conscientious about the sites I choose. Do the ones you pay for still give you diseases? Grrrr, fine, my fabulous days of internet porn are over. It's okay, I never did understand the spitting thing anyway.

Til Death Do Us Part

2008-08-05T19:21:00.007-07:00

I am interupting the 'Internet Love Song' second post, because I am not feeling the second part right now. As noted by the angry mob (kidding, I love that someone reads this stuff and cares if I post. Thank you, love you right back), I have not blogged for awhile. I, Twitter, as Daisy Head noted, I seem to have given up blogging for Twitter. Which is kinda true, but I also got hooked on commenting on our local newspaper site. I think I am sorta over that, I think. I am sorry for the neglect.

In part, I did not write, because I was stressed out. Really, stressed and in a bit of a bad place for a couple of weeks. I usually reread some of my old posts and laugh or think, “well, that was stupid”, but I have to admit the posts where I am honest about being depressed or stressed or anything "deep" embarass me. Since that is the path my thoughts have been wandering along lately, I have not posted.

FAIR WARNING: Here comes another post I will be embarassed about. I deeply hate self-pity, but I admit it happens to everyone. I have had the usual amount of self-pity over the last few weeks. Nothing particularly major, the usual, kids, money, job, messy house, the gawd awful, frackin, heat and some of our fish dying. Oh, and my divorce is final. I was 50% relieved this finally happened, 30% sad that I have hurt my kids so very badly and 15% sad over the loss of my dreams (the rest of it has to do with missing sex, but I won't go there today). Yes, the dreams-you know the idea that this wasn't your fairytale and not your perfect mate (or worse yet, he was and I still couldn't make it work out, son of a bitch, this had better not be the case). It was the dream that died, the real relationship was taken off of life support three years ago. It still sucks. I hate the unknown. I wouldn't mind having a relationship, but I don't think I ever want to live with another man again (slight controFREAK tendancies). I do not have time for dating, really, this isn't an excuse, I don't have the time. It makes me sad, too, but so does the idea of weeding through a bunch of pervy douchebags, just in the hopes of finding someone, is daunting.

So, this all hit me at once and I have thought and thought about it. I digest it and I make it as right as I can in my life, but it was still rough.

What I have to say is that, it occurred to me that if I were not here, people would miss me.

I really have friends, who I love and who love me (or lie, convincingly, same thing). I picked up my voicemail tonight and there was my BFF, singing ‘Fake It’ by Seether. Who can ask more that this from a BFF? Especially, since I got so self-absorbed I called her on her birthday to vent and forgot it was her birthday, until the next day.

I have my family, who would miss me and I think, not just because they are obligated, we really love one another.

Finally and most impotantly I have kids. I signed up to do a job and by GOD, I am going to finish it, because I am the most qualified to do that job, do you know why? Because I love them the most. Period, end of discussion. No one else in this universe will love and protect them they way I will. So, yeah, I get mad at them and yeah, I get tired of being barraged with requests and the house always being messy and maybe I don’t have the money to take them on a real vacation, oh well, I am not perfect, but I do my best. I think, in the end, they will recognize that and forgive all the lectures and time outs and more lectures and the deep sighs. I have faith.

It was my littlest son who made me really snap out of this slump. The night before he went to see his dad for two weeks, he rubbed my arm and said, "Mommy, please, do your best not to die."

I gave him my word and I will keep it. A promise is a promise.

Internet Love Song, Part I

2008-06-22T19:53:00.005-07:00

The Conversations

This is an excerp of a couple of conversations I had last week. The first is between L and A, two of my friends at work.

L - Have you ever seen a Playgirl?

Me - Yeah, when my dad had them piled up when I was a kid.

A- No dummy a Playgirl. Unless there is something you're not telling us about your dad?

Me - Oh, sorry, no he had Playboys. However, both publications are for men, one for the straight guys and one for the guys who like guys.

A- Well, we had one copy of a Playgirl at our dorm in college

Me - Did the pages get sticky?

L (ignoring me completely) - There was this one guy I swear he could have thrown that thing over his shoulder.

A- Kinda like Tommy Lee.

Me - I don't recall him being that big, from the grainy photo I saw on the Internet.

A- He was huge, you would run screaming if that thing came at you.

Me- No, I wouldn't

Two pairs of shocked eyes looked at me.

These conversations led me to believe I was wrong about Tommy Lee and I needed to go check my facts. More to follow.

Weekly Words Challenge #40

2008-06-17T21:11:00.006-07:00

Chaos

This is the evil forces of darkness in my life, the unmatched sock pile.

Mystery

Do you see the lizard? He was crawling along the rocks at the zoo.

Bonus Photos

This is the ever-so-humble Casa de Ditsy. We moved in in November and it was brand spanking new, okay, now the wall thing 4 year old did below, is ever so much worse, huh?

New house is oh, so much better than shiteous apartments (and the kitchen, granite counter tops, stainless steel appliances, cherry cabinets, makes a gal wish she liked to cook).

WARNING -Rant mode on: The jerks at the complex (Sage Stone Apartments in Glendale, don't ever bloody rent there!) sent me a delinquency notice 3 months after I moved out. I cannot speak rationally about the double billing and lies they told, all over $150. Anyway, I also killed 15 scorpions while living there, inside my apartment and roaches. Upscale apartment living my lily-white-doughnut-fueled-ass....ohhhhmmmm, ohhhhmmmmm. Rant mode over.

An Explanation of Sorts

2008-06-16T19:07:00.012-07:00

Some of you have noticed, I am back (typos 'n all), more back than I have been for over a year now. I thought, I would tell you what brings me back. I have been around, since I stopped regularly posting. If you read my blog during 2006, you know I got in trouble for blogging at work. That lead me to not really using my work computer to blog and since I did not have a home computer it was pretty much the end of the line for Ditsy.

Since then, my children's school mandated internet reading activities as part of their curriculum and I bit the bullet and got a computer. So, it made posting and reading blogs, much easier.

Update: I want you to know I completed the Breast Cancer 3-Day walk. It was completely amazing and maybe, when my kids are older, I will do it again. I met some good friends and I have been supporting people in the subsequent year since I walked. That is me at the end of the 3 day with my friends, people I spent 4 months training with in the Arizona heat.

Those are my feet, I quasi sprained my ankle on day one, after half stepping off of the sidewalk, but other than that, no blisters and smooth sailing.

I did not stopped writing stories, while I was gone, no, I just inundated my friends with instant messages, text messages and emails. So, to keep my friendships and give the real life folks in my life a bit of a break, here I am. Oh, and my bff, Yna, introduced me to Twitter (and blogging, that's TWO Yna, I am counting)and am I ever addicted to Twitter.

Blogger Buddies: I will say, that those of you that are still here, I am so glad (I miss the ones who have left and cannot bring myself to delete some of the links, even though they are not posting anymore) and I tried to keep up, but I know things change and I haven't been around for awhile. I hope to meet other new folks as well and we'll see how the posting goes, so far, so good.

I am reminded of why I started blogging, I write to keep sane, to try to make light of some of the more difficult situations life has to offer and to entertain. I truly hope my posts make you chuckle and you come back for more. Because, let's face it, few, if any of us, blog just to read ourselves (that is waaaay too close to talking to yourself and that would mean I was nuts and I would have to start paying someone to listed to my warped logic and I am not doing it!).

Con Mucho Amor,
Ditsy

When Life Hands You Lemons, Ask for Tequila and Salt

2008-06-15T20:11:00.007-07:00

What you are looking at, is not a prehistoric pictograph, but my 4 year old son's artistic masterpiece. Doesn't he have talent? Can't you clearly tell the pirate with the sword? Then, there are some wonky scribbles that look like a cursive 'A'. My son, he's a genius, n'est pas?

I would keep this for posterity, but, alas, we'll have to live with just the photo memories, as he chose to place this masterpiece on THE WALLS of my hallway upstairs! What is left of his art binging is what you see before you, after scrubbing the dry erase board marker with windex, erase board cleaner and water, to no avail.

So tomorrow, our "project of the day", will be painting this patch of the hallway and the part of the wall in my bedroom, that looks a little like a Jackson Pollack. Such talent, my boy has.

When this was discovered, I will share a little secret with you, I got just the teensiest bit angry with my 4 year old Da Vinci. I might have put him in his bedroom and proceeded to lecture him (and a slightly increased volume) about his choices of medium, slammed the door and told him not to come out until I deemed it safe for his ongoing survival. It might be worth noting that my oldest son asked me, after I finished my lecture, if I thought the neighbors had heard.

Below is a picture of my son and his work of art, to show you that he is still allowed to move freely in the world and is not chained to his bed with a bowl of water and box and Fruity Pebbles next to him.

One final note, the next time I lament feeling like I have nothing new to post about, I will kick myself.

Weekly Words Challenge #39 & Headlines of The Day

2008-06-11T19:58:00.006-07:00

Dirty

Peekaboo

This is my first entry into the photo meme. Tink's blog will tell you all about it. The words this week were Peekaboo and Dirty. The first picture is of my youngest son's 1st Birthday, complete with his own "smash cake" and the second picture is just us goofing around in Scotsdale one day.

Headlines of the Day (found on the internet, true story)

Is Obama Black or Biracial? (CNN.com)
This needs to be a headline, because…? Is this open for debate? The side with the most votes determines his heritage?

Are My Tomatoes Safe? (CNN.com)
The problem is serious, but the headline is hilarious.

Housing Crunch Hits 90210 ‘Hood (CNN.com)
WTF?

Flooded Creek Strands Cows (CNN.com)
Didn’t anyone give them floatation devices? Don’t they know how to do the backstroke?

Athletes Using Viagra to Boost Sports Performance (Yahoo.com)
Uh, when they talk about performance on the bottle, the did not mean improving your performance on the basketball court.

Corporate Buzz Words That Suck

2008-06-10T19:55:00.010-07:00

Cross pollinating –
This term should be used in connection with bees and flowers only.

Holistic –
Enough already with this word and yes, this is the correct spelling, not wholistic.

Voice of the Customer –
Customers had a much louder voice when you let them speak to an actual person! You would know what they were saying if you didn’t leave them in an endless loop on your convoluted voice response systems! Now you pay people to go out and “find” the real voice of the customer or beg for customer feedback on surveys.

Value Add –
Near as I can tell this means they are charging you more for less quality/product/service.

Delighters (6 Sigma term, don’t ask) –
As in, if the coffee stinks, the excellent creamer doesn’t matter for shit.

B2B/C2C -
"Oh, look corporate America is joining the cute text language trend, aren’t they clever?"

POA (point of arrival)-
Is really double speak for POS (piece of shit, but I spent a lot money on it).

Cautiously Optimistic-
My year review is due, results are in the toilet and no response from my resume I posted on Monster.com last week.

‘Win-win’ Situation (or just ‘win-win’ for short) –
The only ‘win-win’ situation I need to know about is when my 4 year old finally manages to both poop in the toilet and wipe his own butt.

Millie Is In The Dog House

2008-06-07T20:53:00.007-07:00

This is Millie, she is our Miniature Poodle we have had for about a year now. She is a sweet girl, so good with the kids and she just sits next to me all day long or follows me around with whatever I am doing. She does not shed, poodles don't shed, did you know that? It's a great feature when you live in Arizona.

Anyhoo, I am thinking about giving her away to a home, one that firmly believes in leaving dogs outside all day and that dogs should only be interacted with when they are fed and watered.

Why the cruelty? Why? Well, let me tell you.

A few days ago we were at my mother's, after leaving her house Millie started to check out the rocks out front and found some poop. I am guessing it was deposited there sometime after the extinction of the wooly mammoth, but before the end of the college basketball season. In a word, it was old. That's my word for it, Millie's word for it appears to be, "tasty!". She ate it and got a piece before we could get her away from it. She guzzled it with the type of glee you only see in a child who has gotten into the candy jar and knows mom is coming to get them any second now.

I had a f.i.t.! My dog is not a poop eater! Not my precious French Poodle! I put her in the car and after a few minutes of cussing at her for her disgusting lapse in judgment, she settled into my lap for the ride home ("NO, NO you are NOT going to lick my face, young lady! Ugh, sit down!!") About 5 minutes into the ride, she must have realized she was, indeed, not a poop eater and threw it up all over my pants and my leg (the left one to be exact).

I could attempt to explain the smell to you. I could try to tell you that cow manure smells positively angelic, when compared to regurgitated, petrified, poop, I could, but I don't want you to gag, the way I did, after she hacked it up on my leg!

I nearly wrecked the car, frantically grabbing for anything to get the now rehydrated poop off me and make the smell go away. All the while, picking Millie up by the scruff of the neck and sending her, hastily, to the back of the van.

So, I ask you, “really, is sending her on her way with a family who will ignore her and let her get fleas such a bad idea afterall?”

Sigh, good thing she cannot read. She is contentedly licking my feet as I write this, I guess she stays.

For now.

Converations with My Wii Fit Instructor

2008-05-29T19:27:00.008-07:00

I ordered a Wii Fit. It was going to make me skinny and sexy in mere days, I just knew it. I started eagerly, until I realized the @#%$@#$% thing is a scale in disguise, not only that (oh, yes, the horror continues) but it tells you your body mass index and if you weigh more than you did last time you jumped on it will tell you this too, cruel bastard. I sorta got around this the first couple of times by telling it my clothes weigh progressively more each time I got on, but that only works for the first 3 times - that is all the choices they give you, I mean come on! Who wouldn't believe my clothes alone weighed 150 pounds, the nerve......

If that is not bad enough, you get to pick your own instruments of torture, types of "games" (games, ha, games are things you do while sitting down eating bon bons, not standing up and sweating!) and most importantly your instructor. The choices are limited to picking between a male or a female instructor- calm down guys you cannot add to her physical attributes in any way. I picked the female, cuz guys in the room while I exercise, not good. My instructor does not have a name, at least not one sanctioned by Wii directly. I like to call her, skinny-ass-stick-chick-with-funny-circle-boobs-and-a-huge-mons (if you don't know what a mons is by now, I am so not going to explain it to you - google it and not at work, my friends) or Candy for short. Here is a typical conversation between Candy and myself.

Candy: You've got great balance, keep it up!

Me: Thanks!

Candy: Oh, you've touched your foot down didn't you!

Me: (How the eff could she know that, do they have cameras in this thing too?) Nooooo, not I.

Candy: Do you need to take a rest?

Me: Oh, we were supposed to be standing now?

Candy: This exercise does not seem to be your forte, you need to try some other exercises first and come back to this when your strength has built up.

Me: Build up strength?!! We just did the yoga breathing exercise you bitch!

And then, they give you a rating after each exercise. A RATING. I am the queen of the "couch potato" rating, no I am not making this part up. Apparently, if you are really good, you get to be rated "dancing queen" or some such shit. Not, that I will see this happen to me my in my lifetime.

In conclusion, my wasted musculature in my calves and thighs and stomach are complaining, loudly and reminding me that there is a reason for why no one over the age of 8 is seen in public hula hooping. I should have just pawned the thing on eBay for the extra $50 bucks they are going over retail, when I had the chance.

Today's Quickie

2008-05-22T10:02:00.009-07:00

So, I meandered into a (dare I say it) internet dating sight. Morbid curiosity really, since my dating profile would say something like,

"Are you interested in the Army National Guard Dating plan? Then, I am your gal, because I can only go out one weekend a month and two weeks every summer."

I wouldn't expect to get too many responses from that, I might though, because I am not above using Gisele Bundchen's pictures as me in my profile.

Anyway, tip for the men on these sites...any picture of you with a girl (or any of her body parts) half cropped out of the photo IS NOT acceptable for your profile. I don't care who she is, we, the future ex's, will assume it is a previous g-friend and don't appreciate seeing what the psycho queen who will repeatedly call our house at 1 am, looks like.

Not Acceptable

No hint of girl in photo, great choice for your dating profile!

There's A Hole In the Bucket

2008-05-20T14:20:00.002-07:00

Yesterday, I walked out to my car in the 111 degree heat, to see my keys, perched on my center console, unreachable behind the locked door. My carpool buddy smiled and laughed. I was lucky enough to have another friend take us home.

Upon arriving home, I did the usual - tried everything I could to get out of cooking an actual meal, took off my offending heels, put on some haus frau outfit and yelled at my kids for something*. It was while yelling at the kids, something caught my eye on the ceiling in the kitchen and my brain shouted to me,

"YOU HAVE WON A LEAK IN YOUR CEILING!! All expenses will be paid by the builder (thank you God for that one), but you probably should get your helpless self upstairs to figure out how to turn off the water to your toilet!" Which, I did.

Yup, my brand new house hath sprung a leak and I am waiting for the plumbers to come. They are to be here sometime between Noon and 4 pm. I figure I will see them around,uh, we'll go for 6ish tonight.

So, it was a great damn day in the Ditsy household yesterday. I won't even mention that my dog had the shits or the numerous places she deemed appropriate to make her condition known to us. Nope, cuz then it would just seem like I make this stuff up.

*I don't know exactly what I was yelling at them for, but I did start out trying to blame the leak on their getting the floor wet after their baths. When I apologized later, my oldest son graciously said, "how embarrassing for you, huh, momma?"

A Letter to Star jones

2008-02-25T10:49:00.003-07:00

I wrote this to Star Jones, while she was denying she had both bypass surgery and cosmetic surgery to remove extra skin, after her weight loss. I believe she has since admitted to having both surgeries.

Dear Star Jones,

Congratulations on your phenomenal weight loss! It is commendable that you have lost over 100 pounds, without surgery. With your amazing new look I can only ask – "without the benefit of surgery, where are you putting your extra skin?" I, myself, have lost, oh, 50 or 60 pounds and have not had surgery, but let's be honest here, I cannot afford the surgery, it is not because I didn't want to have it done….and well, I can use my extra skin flaps for holding my laptop – I can use binder clips and carry home my groceries. It's an ecofriendly pouch! So, really where does all your extra skin fit in those size 6 pants? My skin fits into a six, as well, the rest of me goes into a size 12. Perhaps the elasticity in your skin should be analyzed in a lab – distilled and marketed to all woman, as its ability to not sag must be remarkable. You could call it STAR POWER!

Sincerely,

The Ditsy Chick

The Advent of Nicotine Gum

2008-02-21T11:53:00.005-07:00

I was digging through my purse the other day and I had a flash back to when I had asked my mother for gum. My mom was (still is) an avid smoker and gum chewer. I inherited the gum chewing from her, not the smoking and now my children love gum. Anyway, I used to ask her for gum and she would hand me her gum pack, on a good day. On a bad day...she dug around in the bottom of her purse and found the random straggling pieces of gum that had escaped from the pack. This was bad, because invariably the gum was funny tasting and crunchy, yes, crunchy, there I said it. Once I was curious as to what it was I was tasting and crunching on, I explored the bottom of her purse and there were tabacco flakes all over the bottom, some mixed in with the gum wrappers. Well, that answers the flavor and the crunchy question, now doesn't it.

For the record, I never again took a piece of gum from the bottom of her purse.

Why I Am Going Shopping at Lunch Today

2008-02-02T15:39:00.000-07:00

I emailed this to Yna.

So, I went to Starbucks and ordered a sausage sandwich and hot chocolate. I also got a co-worker a mocha lotte. Upon arriving at the venerable parking lot of my work, I stepped out of the car and with my hands full I held to coffee tray with my chin to shut the door...where just seconds later, I felt hot liquid driping down my chest and silk blouse. My lovely Tiffany blue silk blouse, now has the added fashionable splash of brown to it, thank goodness this is a great new fashion trend or I would be embarassed to walk around with the chocolate spots all over me. I need to go to the washroom to wash the chocolate off my bosoms, do you think I could talk anyone into just licking the chocolate off? Me neither and my tongue isn't long enough, not that, um, I tried this or anything weird like that.

Oh, and the breakfast sausage sandwich, don't know what happened to that, but they did give me a lovely slice of some coffee cake with raspberry jam filling. I threw it away, (after considering how much it would cost to send to a starving 3rd world country, I decided, that given the fact, it took 10 days for the calendars I ordered from Costco, to make it from the Midwest to Phoenix, it might take several years to arrive in Africa, given that this was not fruitcake I was fairly certain, it would not arrive before its recommended pull date ). I think it is a sign from God that I need to stick to my diet resolution, I made a mere 2 days ago, but could not find the motivation to keep. I hope the skinny bitch who did get my sandwich, choked on it and it made her bloated and it gave her thighs like mine!

FYI - the hot chocolate tastes like ass, I am merely drinking it for the caffeine and sugar at this point.

-D

Some rational part of my brain stopped me from sending this to your crackberry, but the irrational part of my could see the Diet Coke coming out your nose as you read this in a meeting - then our shirts would have the same damn brown spots.

Two'fer Special

2007-11-01T19:09:00.000-07:00

That's it, I've had it!

I am sick and tired of my boobs (breasts, tits, ta-ta's, rack, fun bags, mammary glands, rack...etc.)!
I cannot buy a button blouse to save my life. (Seriously, who the hell designs clothes for women? They fit right up to the boobs and then the buttons pop open wider than the grand canyon, with a slightly less dramatic view.)

My breasts are currently underperforming and the last time someone spent anytime playing with them, well, the first Bush was in office.

So, have I got a deal for you....I want to rent them out. I will rent them to guys for $10/day. With deep discounts for longer rental periods. For any women, it would be $1 for the first day and $5 per day, every day after- since you need to experience the trouble they are first hand, before you commit. Perhaps, in time, I could earn enough to get them renovated...you know move up from the basement, back to the penthouse!

Serious inquiries only, email me if you are interested, I will send you a photo of them, in all their saggy, stretched marked glory....fyi, nursing ends the days of perky tits and nice nipples! Uh, on second thought, I will send you the photos of an attractive 27 year old's breasts...I am looking to turn a profit here folks.

Terms and Conditions
*No piercing or biting.
*They must be returned in the same condition they were rented to you in.
*They cannot be used to fill gaps in your weather stripping.
*They cannot be used as a replacement for your breasts during a mammogram (never had one myself, but I have heard the stories).
*Do not throw them over your shoulders and use them as a backpack.
*Do not use them as slingshots.
*Any injuries incurred while wearing my breasts jogging, horseback riding or jumping, are not the fault of the owner and all resulting medical bills are the sole responsibility of the renting party.
* Any negative effects to your golfing average are your own damn fault. Golfing is not meant for women and don't tell me you would not rather be getting a pedicure, in stead of trying to pick up or impress a sugar daddy - ahem, not that, uh, I would know this first hand or anything, I'm just sayin'.
* No nursing, I am done with lactating and while I recommend it for anyone, that ship has sailed for me!
*Yes, they probably can be used as a flotation device.

Rock on Sista

2007-09-02T20:18:00.001-07:00

Hi,

How are you? I am fanfucking-tabulous....minus the fact that I have had sex once (1, un, uno..) in the last two years. Wait, let me 'splain, I mean with another person, okay, well since I am not all that exciting, specifically, a man. Seriously, at a recent happy hour it was brought to my attention that I need to lie about how many men I have slept with. Do you know why I was told to lie? Because the answer isn't a high enough number and it appears to invoke, pity from others when I mention it.

"So, Ditsy, how many men have you slept with you ask?"

The answer would be TWO men, not at the same time (see not exciting comment above). One was the Greek Frat Boy I dated in college and the other was my current spouse.

About that spouse person, I have indeed filed for a divorce. I thought you might want to know that I have done the deed and once we get through the red tape, it should be complete around November. I am not really sad about this, in fact, I am relieved and to be honest, I think Pat is as well. So, don't be sad on my account.

The biggest change is that I am going back to my maiden name, which no one will know, because I did not know hardly anyone in my life now before I got hitched, 12 years ago.

Moving on.

Word of Advice

2007-03-20T23:18:00.000-07:00

For those of you lucky enough to have an office in Corporate America, -for this I mean a real office, with walls that go from the floor to the ceiling and a door-- I have these words of advice....

It is not appropriate to pass gas in your office and then immediately open the door. Wait patiently 5 or 10 minutes until the odor has dissipated....this will help to prevent the retching of the poor schmo (in this case me) who happens to be walking by as you open the door.

Thanks, ever so much!

Overheard at work:

Question - "So, have you ever wacked-off in the bathroom at work?"
Answer - "Well, not at this particular job."

Editorial Comment - WTF causes a man to get so excited he has to get up and pleasure himself in the smelly, unattractive men's room at work?

Entered A Contest - Why I Need A Getaway

2006-09-21T14:29:00.000-07:00

You should enter it as well...click on the blog title to get to the contest. Here is what I wrote....

In the last 12 months, I have moved 1,000 miles South from Idaho to Phoenix, changed jobs and become a single mother. It has been quite an adventure. I have 3 small boys and being their source of support is fulfilling it can also be hectic. To top it all off I am training for the Breast Cancer 3-Day, here in Phoenix November 3-5, which requires walking and training 6 days a week.

Through all of this I have somewhat neglected my best friends and myself and the only regret I have is not spending more time reaffirming those relationships which have carried me through some of the most difficult times of my life. I need time to reconnect with them and myself both for myself and to be the best parent I can be to my children.

I dream of a girls weekend in New York City, I want to see a play and most of all I dream of sleeping without a single soul bouncing on my bed telling mommy to get up at 6 am.

DAMMIT Jim, I'm a Doctor, Not a miracle worker!!!

2006-08-25T09:50:00.000-07:00

I am profoundly sorry for not letting all of you know I am alive and well, much, much sooner. I am alive and well. I spent my summer running around like a madwoman and just for fun, I got a second job for the weekends at Talbot's. I have the most awesome wardrobe I have had in years.

The kids are home, the oldest and middle boys have started school. My little 5 year old started Kindergarten and he is doing so great. I am very proud.

Just to give you an idea of my travel schedule this summer, here are places I trained for the 3-Day:

Phoenix - Duh
New York City - Hot and sticky and the smell from the sewers, as always, the Big Apple was amazing.
Miami - 5 miles on South Beach, killed my calves, but with the view, I cannot really complain.
Greensboro, NC - in a sweaty workout room off from the pool, as if that place is not humid enough.
Idaho Falls, ID - along the mighty Snake river, beautiful - and windy.
Cedar City, Utah - got hit on by a truck driver - not sure if I should feel flattered over this.

I have walked 250 miles and I have a 12/13 mile walk every Saturday - 4 am wake up call, because it is hot, hot, hot down here. Followed up with a 7/8/9 mile walk on Sunday. No blisters so far.

Thanks for checking up on me. Now, I am off to get my damn car towed, as it decided not to start at 11:30 last night and Wal-Mart.

…..and a chicken in every pot

2006-06-23T16:51:00.000-07:00

Overheard at a drinking establishment the other night……

Gentleman #1 - She’s got big hips….

Gentleman #2 – Yes, she does….they are big…

Woman #1 – They are not!!!

Gentleman #2 –Yes, she does…she does!

Woman #1 – Well, as someone with bigger hips than she has, I suggest we switch to a new topic.

Gentleman #1 – Well, it’s not the big hips that I mind, really…it’s just there is no potatoes to go with the meat….If I am gonna have the meat, I need the potatoes.

Breaking News

2006-06-19T19:51:00.000-07:00

We bring the following story to you as it unfolds, not live and in blogger time:

Well, folks it appears there is a contributor to the world famous blog of 'The Ditsy Chicks', known as ‘Denice’ has been avoiding the hot topics of her life. It appears that the ennui she is cultivating in her life and her blog are due to 2 major developments in her life.

Rumor has it that she and her husband have agreed to call it splitsville. That's right you heard it here first, the uberfamous blogger is separated from her husband and they have agreed to split the silver, er, um plasticware. Don't worry though, we hear she and her estranged spouse still interact enough to irritate one another on a regular basis. No further comments were available at the time this was published.

Also, due to the egregious amount of money daycare has been trying to extort from Denice for the care of her, dear sweet cherubs, who are really no work at all, she has shipped them off to their grandparents for the summer. Yes, she is now a swinging, single, woman with no children and no curfews. She can drink, dance and fornicate her way through Phoenix!!! Isn't that great news? Look for some great papparazi shots of her in a news rag near you.

--Wanda Noseupyourhiney - Man Rider Knews

Translation, by Denice

1) Hubby agreed to a divorce, no paperwork has been filed as of yet. No drama to speak of, either. He is still my friend, but we cannot live together.

2) My children are at Grandma's and they will be with their daddy on the weekends. Phoenix is too hot for 3 kids to have all of 20 feet of play room for the summer. I miss my children and there are not really any more words to describe how I feel about their absence.

Take it away Wanda....

If you do this.... STOP IT!!!!

2006-06-07T21:01:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer: I haven't taken my meds in a while and everyone and everything seems to tick me off lately.

I work in the IT department of a fairly large company. My location in Utah is the main Call Center. Fortunately, our customer service reps (CSRs) work from home, but they do have to spend the first 4 weeks in training. The training lab is on the same floor as the IT department. I absolutely HATE it when there is a new CSR training class in session. We have to share the breakroom and the bathrooms with them.

First of all, they fill up the fridge and the freezer with their lunches because they are too cheap or too poor to go out. And the fridge never gets cleaned out so their lunch bags and carrot sticks and half-eaten sandwiches are causing all kinds of nasty refrigerator funk. Even if you could wedge your lunch between the chocolate milk jug and the fridge light, you wouldn't be able stand the smell of it after it's spent any length of time in there - hey, there's a diet plan I haven't tried yet :). That's not the worst of it... on or very near the end of day Wednesday, the soda machine runs out of Diet Coke. This is very bad. I MUST have my Diet Coke in the morning (because well, we Mormons take our caffeine cold, thank you very much).

Having worked in IT for the past 10 years, I've gotten quite selfish about not having to share the Ladies Room with very many other ladies. The majority of our CSRs are women - stay-at-home moms. Most are very pregnant stay-at-home moms. Heaven help you if you have to pee during a break in the training curriculum because you'll be waiting quite a while. I have to stand in line. STAND IN LINE. I've NEVER had to STAND IN LINE to use the restroom at work. NEVER!!! I think they ought to put in some kind of seniority system to where those that work on this floor permanently can go immediately to the front of the line and we have first choice of stalls. But that's not the worst of it... Yesterday, when I finally got my own stall and I'm minding my p's and q's, I hear someone next to me talking. Oh, I hope to All-That-Is-Good-In-The-World that she is talking to the person next to her. I listen. No one is responding. Good Lord, NOT AGAIN!!!! Yep, you guessed it - she's talking on her cell phone. While she's using the bathroom. While I'm using the bathroom. While EVERYONE is using the bathroom!! Wouldn't you think that the person on the other end could hear the tell-tale sounds of a restroom? The echo, the water running, toilets flushing, paper towels being lowered and ripped, etc. Here's a hint, NOTHING YOU OR I HAVE TO SAY IS SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU NEED TO TALK TO ME WHILE YOU ARE USING THE BATHROOM!!! I can wait 3 minutes. Really. And so can you. Just trust me on this.

Blood in the Water

2006-06-05T21:55:00.000-07:00

I received a phone call two days ago from a person asking for my husband by name, but she did not identify herself or her organization.
"He's not available. May I take a message?"
"No thanks I'll try back later."
Yesterday, a nice young gentleman requested my husband again by name and also did not identify his organization or purpose for the call. Once again, I advised that he was not available. I was thanked and hung up.
Today, a young lady called and once again simply requested my husband by name. So, very politely, I indicate that my husband is not available and is there something I can help her with?
She asks me," Are you authorized to make decisions regarding your phone service?"
I reply slowly "Well, since I've been married this individual 17 years, bore him 2 children, my name is jointly on the mortgage and I make twice his income, I do believe that qualifies me to make decisions regarding our phone service."
She hesitates a moment - almost like she's trying to decide whether I'm joking or I'm trouble. (We can all see at this point, the odds are clearly NOT in her favor, but the poor young lass makes the wrong choice.....)
"and your name is...." she coos sweetly.
"Yna."
"Well, Yna, my name is Melody and I'll only take a moment of your time, but I just want to review the services you have with us and see if I can save you some money on your phone bill today. Would you like to save some money today, Yna?"
"Well, who wouldn't?"
"I'm so glad to hear you say that. Now it says here that you have our best home service package with line blocker, call waiting and caller ID - that's great..... and you have an unpublished number..... and DirectTV service with us.... and the fastest DSL service we offer.... well, the only thing missing here is wireless phone service.. can I interest you in adding wireless service today? We have the follow specials going on for a limited time....."
I try to be nice. I really do. I usually give folks 3 chances.
"No thank you, I'm happy with my current wireless provider"
"Well, if you switch plans I can save you an additional $5 a month on your phone bill." Strike 1.
"But you are going to charge me an additional $40 per month to get the same service I currently have with another provider so that I can save $5, is that correct?"
"Well, it appears that way, Yna. I'd like to tell you about our home phone system specials we have going on..."
I cut her off mid-sentence. "I wouldn't be interested today, thank for calling."
"I can get you a professional-grade home phone system for pennies on the dollar, Yna."Strike 2.
"No, thank you. I wouldn't be interested."
"The best thing about this system is...."Strike 3. You've gone too far, sweetie.
"Melody, do you still have my account up on your system?"
"Why yes, yes I do"
"Can we review a couple of items - just for my sake?"
"Why certainly, Yna, what can I do for you?"
"Can you find the line item where I pay an additional fee to have an unpublished phone number?"
"Yes, I see it right here."
"Good deal. Now, can you see the additional features I have on my home phone service?"
"Yes, I certainly can."
"Do you see where I have a solicitation block on my home phone number so that when anyone who's phone number doesn't register on caller ID calls my phone they hear a No Solicitors message first before they can connect?"
"Yes, I see that right here, is there a problem with your service?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact there is..." my mouth waters as I flash my incisors - smelling blood in the water.... "The reason that I pay EXTRA money for an unpublished number and I have a solicitation block on my phone is so that phone solicitors don't call me at home. Why do you people at the phone company think that you are exempt from this? Do you think that just because you have ACCESS to my phone number that gives you the right - over every other business on the planet - to call me and try to sell me crap I don't want or need? Do you really think that I won't be as annoyed with you as I would be with ANY OTHER company who calls me uninvited during my personal time? I would expect that the PHONE COMPANY would understand customers frustration and disgust with phone solicitors MORE THAN any other company!!! That's why you offer these services for a premium price!!! Then why on God's green earth does your company STILL EMPLOY PHONE SOLICITORS to call people who have already purchased your anti-phone-solicitation services?!!!!! Huh? Answer me that, won't you, Melody?!!!!!" I'm heaving and sputtering by this time and little beads of sweat have pooled on my upper lip.
Silence.
Tick tock.
"I'm sorry to have bothered you, ma'am, you have a nice day."
I hang up the phone and pause to savor the moment. There are very few times in my life where I have actually thought up something clever to say on the spot - and then had the nerve to say it out loud. This was one of those times.

Breast Cancer 3-Day Training Has Begun

2006-05-31T17:05:00.000-07:00

It's official, we have started our 24 week regime to get ready for the 3-Day Breast Cancer walk. The first walk I did was for 3 miles and it,well.., it hurt, a whole lot. I have been doing some math calculations and if it takes almost 50 minutes to do 3 miles....20 miles is going to take....a long, long time....assuming that we can walk 4 mph, which is rather unlikely. I am impressed at how fast my legs have kicked in and now the time on the treadmill is mostly just boring. Don't get me wrong, I am still sore after I walk, but my legs no longer feel like jello. I walked 10 miles last week. Today is supposed to be my day off, but since I was too lazy to go last night, I will have to make up for it today.

As the team captain, I would be remiss if I did not call Yna and tell her she had to walk, while she had strep throat, well, at the time, neither she, nor I, knew it was strep.

---**Over to Yna**---

OK, so initially, I'm not as ambitious as Denice. I walked 3 miles last week, with strep. But, from the looks of our training schedule this week, we should be walking 4 miles by Saturday. Yeah, right.

OK, "team captain", explain to me one more time about how you coerced me into paying $85 to register for this walk, commit to raising $2200 by November and if I DON'T raise the money, I don't get the OPPORTUNITY to walk 60 miles over the course of 3 days?!!!! (Denice's interjection here, "because you love me and it is a really good cause.")

It certainly was NOT a marketing or advertising genius who thought up this ploy. I think they would raise a whole heckofalot more money if they said,

"If you raise $2200, then you get to decide who will walk the 60 miles for you.
If you raise $4400, then your designee has to walk 60 miles and carry you piggyback. If you raise $8800, then your designee has to walk the 60 miles nekkid!!!!"

It certainly does change who your designee would be at each fundraising level...... now doesn't it :) And wouldn't you be much more motivated to raise money to find a Cure for Breast Cancer? I know I would.......

Go in peace son, for thou art truly blessed

2006-05-29T08:09:00.000-07:00

I am taking a class at work this week and I have this observation to share with you…

There is a young, rather handsome, gentleman in our class and a whole lot of women. At one point in the class, the young man sneezed. There were no less than 15 women saying, “bless you”, to him. The gentleman, said, “whoa”, I snickered and had to look away.

A few minutes later one of the ladies sneezed, to which I hear her neighbor, giver her a grudging, “bless you”, no chorus for her.

Terribly, terribly unfair isn't it?

A Riddle for the Day

2006-05-23T21:48:00.000-07:00

Arnold Swartzennager has a big one.
Michael J. Fox has a small one.
Madonna doesn't have one.
The Pope has one but doesn't use his.
Clinton uses his all the time.
Mickey Mouse has an unusual one.
Liberace never used his on women.
Jerry Seinfeld is very, very proud of his.
Cher claims that she took on 3.
We never saw Lucy use Desi's.

What is it?

Musings on Motherhood

2006-05-15T16:45:00.000-07:00

Things I wish someone would have told me about Motherhood:

 It will be many years before you will be able to finish your own meal or dessert
 It will be many years before you will be able to go into the bathroom alone. By yourself. Without spectators. It doesn’t matter what function you are performing in the bathroom – showering, bathing, etc.
 Another human being’s poop and vomit will not make you gag – in fact, it will have the ability to elicit feelings of relief, celebration, empathy and love
 You will have the ability to sniff another person’s head for hours on end – and you will want to
 You cannot control the emotional outbursts of another human – even if that human hath sprung forth from your own loins
 You will not be embarrassed by having your husband, your mother, the doctor, the midwife, the nurse going off shift, the nurse coming on shift, 2 pediatric nurses, and some guy training to be an EMT, in a dark room with 2 very large spotlights aimed directly at your nether regions with very large salad spoons hanging out of it

Welcome, Welcome

2006-05-14T18:34:00.000-07:00

Yna is officially part of the blog now. And I just have to mention that her avatar's look, is one that I get from Yna in real life, on a regular basis.

I'm sorry, but everytime I see this new template, I laugh. We have made grown men cry (at work), but those are stories for another day......

The Shit, The Fan and Everything Else In Between

2006-05-13T17:50:00.000-07:00

Just in case you wanted to know....here is my thought process in deciding what to wear during the week.

1) Does it need to be ironed? If the answer is yes, discard as an option immediately.

2) Does it fit? Yes, this is number 2 on the list. god, how I hate ironing.

3) Does the shirt match the pants? Or at least a reasonable facsimile thereof....

4) Does the outfit work with the 115 degree temp?

5) Is it flattering? Actually, this does not matter at all and if you knew me in real life you would be keenly aware of this....

6) Was the outfit in question in style within the last 15 years?

7) Any visible holes?

If none of the above applies or can be found, it's off to the drycleaning pile to discern if I had discarded them a bit too hastily. Really, if there are no visible stains, wrinkles or noticeable smells it can be worn again. Really....

Tired of Those Boring Gap Outfits for Your Kids?

2006-05-06T18:37:00.000-07:00

Well, have I got a site for you....Pimpfants. Yes, street clothes for your child, complete with Lil Beater shirts and velour hooded track suits. Nothing says class like clothes from Pimpfants. My Fall shopping stress is over...

Nothin says, I'm from the hood like these clothes....and just think of the things I am hoping my kids will accomplish with their lives when they wear this stuff.....

Commerical Conundrum

2006-04-27T17:14:00.000-07:00

This post is actually from Yna, I have not yet entered into the enlightened TiVo age.....enjoy....

Commercials are at best, amusing, and at worst, annoyances. I love my TiVo – love it, love it, love it (almost as much as I love my broadband internet connection – almost, but not quite) for the main reason that I can watch my favorite programs anytime I want – and it takes half the time it would if I were watching it live. I've been known to inadvertently try and forward live TV and then sit there puzzled for a few minutes until I sadly realize I can only go backwards in TV time and not forwards. Sometime I will dejectedly make the lovely little "bleep, blip, bloop" sound, just to self-soothe as I wait patiently for Law & Order: Criminal Intent to resume. That Vincent D'onofrio is such a hottie. But I digress……

I'm pretty non-plussed by the whole commercial TV marketing schemes – however, there is one commercial that will make me change the channel EVERY SINGLE TIME it comes on - and it goes a little something like this:

This particular commercial starts with Bob leaving a medical center and going to a party. He rings the doorbell and a woman answers. He hands her a wrapped gift. She says, "Hey Bob, you get a new haircut?" He answers, "No," as he walks through the home. The woman looks puzzled as she notices a difference about Bob. A man with glasses sees Bob; he greets Bob and asks Bob if he lost weight, which Bob answers, "Uh uh." We take it that means no. A man carrying a tray of hors d'oeuvre asks Bob if he is wearing a new jacket; Bob again answers, "No." An off screen announcer states, "What's different? He finally asked his doctor about Viagra."

Let's tell the real-story here - these people are so surprised because:
1) No self-respecting straight male would bring a "wrapped gift" just to attend a party – we'd just be happy if he'd bring a COLD six-pack of beer and wear pants!!!! (we'll come back to this in a moment...)
2) The woman looks puzzled because she can't help but notice the giant woody he's sporting through his Dockers.
3) Now the man with glasses…. he knows immediately what's just happened!!!! "Have you lost weight?" is a normal compliment for women seeing each other at a party. Heterosexual males have picked up on this and they now use it as code for "Doooooode…. Nice goin'… you just got LAID!!!!!" And now you also know that the nice lady that answered the door was his wife because men only give gifts if:
A) It's your birthday
B) They've been screwing around and they feel guilty
I'm thinking both answers are pretty probable at this point.
4) What about the guy with the tray of hors d'oeuvres? When was the last time your husband carried a tray of hors d'oeuvres around a party and told his buddy that his shirt is sooooo last season?

I cannot stand this commercial. Hate it, hate it, hate it. It's sexist and over-the-top stereotypical.

What's your least favorite commercial? Inquiring minds want to know……

Your Cheatin' Heart...

2006-04-25T21:38:00.000-07:00

No, no it's not what you might be thinking. I did something terrible today, but not that....My oldest child has been sick for the past couple of days and we were all going bonkers in our ~~rat cage~~ apartment. Not to mention being behind at work. So, I made everyone get dressed and took them to school as usual. Except, after I dropped the 2 youngest off in their classrooms, I backtracked and picked up my eldest. I figure if he's gagging and acting like he is going to throw up, he does not need to be at school, but 1 more day of being stuck in the apartment with 3 crazy kids was going to be the end of me.

So, I lied to my youngest kids and I asked my oldest not to tell. I also let him watch TV on a 'No TV' day. I might have taken him out to breakfast....as well and no, I did not take him to the bookstore to buy new books.....I don't know where they came from.....

I would tell my 4 year old, but he would come unglued and everyday for the rest of his life, he would cry and make sure I did not go back and pickup my eldest and go home with him. I am a guilt ridden mommy, but not one that is a glutton for punishment.

I did get a nice day of bonding with my eldest and I picked up a couple of trashy novels at the bookstore....can't wait for bed tonight, I'll be cuddling up with Nick, a rich bachelor in Florida, looking for the soon-be-transformed-from-fat-and-frumpy-career-gal to his dream girl! God, I love fantasies.....in this one, I am going to dream that he takes out the trash and clips my toenails without complaint...mmmmmmmmm

Continuing on the Tax Theme

2006-04-20T13:39:00.000-07:00

Why you should not have children for just tax deductions:

1) All told I think they "saved me" $3,000 on my taxes. Grand total for daycare $15,878, not including $3,000 for private school tuition. Very poor return on investment (ROI) there.

2) Last week my kids ate at least their respective body weight in food and candy. All told it costs me about $200 every time I go to the grocery store.

3) Birthday parties ROI is also very poor. You pay $350 for the cake, party supplies, balloons, food, gift bags and entertainment, they get all the presents.

4) No amount of tax refund can make up for going to work with syrup and milk on your clothes - which is bad enough, but the clumps of unknown white stuff in my hair? That I did not discover until I had been at work for a couple of hours??!

............Now off to Yna for her insight......................

5) When men take time off work to care for sick children, it's so wonderful that he is that caring and attentive to his wife and children's needs - a real family man - give him a promotion. When a woman takes time off to care for them, she's not committed to her job and is unreliable - there's no way she'll ever be management material.

6) The depreciation on your vehicle is accelerated by 1000% each year.
Let me illustrate:
A) The addition of permanent car seat creases in the leather
B) Miniscule particles of cracker crumbs in every crevice that no vacuum is powerful enough to pick up
C) Sticky-juice-or-soda covered seats holding petrified french fries in suspended animation
D) A baby bottle of coagulated milk on the floor (the "baby" is 3!!!!)
E) And what the heck is that sour smell coming from behind the seat?!!! (After about 5 minutes, you really don't smell it anymore)
F) 3 months worth of school papers (3 papers per day, 20 days of school per month..... that's 180 pieces!!!) of crayon-scribbled VERY IMPORTANT schoolwork piled on the floor in the back seat
G) The left shoe from every pair of shoes that you've ever bought your children

7) Then there's the issue of paying for the food that goes in the top end and then paying for diapers to catch it coming out the bottom end..... how is that cost-effective exactly??????

8) My other issue is with children's clothes. I think the cost of clothes for my children are somehow tied to the same index that they are using for calculating the increase in gas prices. I just cannot justify paying $25-30 for a pair of jeans for my 7 year old that she will grow out of in 6 months!!!! At least I can get a good 7-8 years out of mine for the same cost. Most of the time. If I lay off the chocolate Easter bunnies. And the jelly beans. And the Cadbury Mini Eggs. I love those. Thanks a lot, Denice. Thanks a lot. (Perhaps, I should explain, I introduced Yna to these little babies, they only come out at Easter and they are damn good, especially, dipped in peanut butter, god they are gooooood.)

The Tax Man Cometh

2006-04-17T00:45:00.000-07:00

I did not leave my taxes until the last possible minute. I do not procrastinate. I do not have a house, 3 children and pay daycare about $12,000 last year and still manage to owe on the State and Federal level. Ooooh and guess how much of a deduction I get for childcare? That would be a whopping $1,200 total for all 3 of them.

Please tell me my work clothes are deductible....in which case, the government owes me BIG time!

I hope everyone had a happy and fun Easter.

Going to bed now and while I sleep I will try to figure out what the hell a 'farm deduction for a donation of services in kind', is...sounds like an animal brothel to me....maybe I qualify for this one as well......

Hey, Howdy, Hey

2006-04-09T09:30:00.000-07:00

Hi, there, so, where do we start? Where have you been young lady?

Yes, let's start there.

The other Manager on our team quit and I have been attempting to do her job as well as mine. That has kept me busy. My oldest son just turned 7, so we had a little party for him. Then, there is the big time consuming activity, getting my team at work to donate to the St. Mary's Food Bank.

You see, there was some serious smack talk at work and I told them we needed to settle it by seeing which half of the department could bring in the most food for a food drive. I was put as the team captain of one of the teams and between March 31st and April 7th, our team donated $815, which we translated in to 2,030 pounds of food (there were also food donations brought in that went towards the total). I have been shopping and brow beating my co-workers for a week, oh, and listening to the other team tell me how they were going to kick our asses - we'll get back to that in a minute. I actually had 5 male co-workers volunteer to go shopping with me and off we went to Costco. At one point while we were shopping we stopped the 3 flat,pallet carts and said, "what the hell else, can we buy?" When is the last time you went to Costco or Sam's and had too much money to spend?

How much did the other team bring in? 1,130 pounds of food. I'd say we spanked them -but, I am not competitive! Plus, we get the traveling trophy and bragging rights and our co-workers who are professional pastry chefs are making the winning team cheese cake and carrot cake - let this be a lesson to you - never compete against a fat chick when cheese cake is on the line! Who won - the food bank - 3,160 pounds of food from 48 people. Ain't competition a great thing?

Sigh, so, I don't have time to blog. Yna has suggested that we keep this blog and we both post. This will up my infrequent posting and allow her to rejoin the blogosphere. We will be the Ditsy Chicks, I will have to get the template changed, whenever I get around to it...I am sorry, life just is so inconvenient sometimes, isn't it?

Oh, The Place You Will Go

2006-03-30T06:48:00.000-07:00

A list of places I have left my purse/wallet:

Home,
Work,
The car,
My parent's house,
Chili's,
My friend's house,
My boyfriends house,
Chili's,
A yet to be determined spot a couple of days ago....

Worried I should not be, the great wibbly snee has used all the credit cards to their limit - very inapropriately! The great family bankus account is as empty as the zich-a-zulf gulf, which was once filled with green waters and where the fabulous grubber-groused froozle kinoozle would swim and sing its sweet song. It is my great name and reputation that would concern me the most, if I had not managed to lose it in a game with a bandersnatch knoosh a long time ago, now, that was something I am sure you would have all paid to see!

$%&$&amp;^&^&^%&^%&^%friggenbacher, if they could just make a purse that would learn to follow me home, this problem would stop!!!!!

*----* *----* *----* UPDATE *----* *----*

I took the kids for a walk tonight and as I was approaching the front gate to the complex, there was a mini-van trying to get into the complex. I assumed it was someone who forgot their key (again) and kept on walking. A lady stepped out of the van and said, "Can you help me, I found this wallet....." "MY WALLET! Thank God!" She explained that the person with her had found it (he only spoke a little english), he worked on the landscaping at Chili's (do I go there too much or what?...almost every Tuesday night, it is the Southwest eggrolls and Molten cake) and found it laying in the parking lot. His name was Jesus and he did not want any money. I said thank you again and they were on their way. Thank you Jesus, thank you! See and here we all thought I was not a religious person.

Ask Ditsy

2006-03-28T21:30:00.000-07:00

Why does my husband insist I rub his back EVERY night when he knows I HATE doing it?

- Melanhead

Dear Melanhead,

I am an admitted backrub-o-phile and a married woman. So, I think I have this one covered. First things first, when we decide to marry another human being, are we not agreeing to make their lives as difficult as possible? Wouldn't asking a spouse to do something that brings us personal enjoyment and causes our spousal unit grief, be the pinnacle of what it means to be married? Don't you feel for my husband right about now? At least that is why I would ask you to do something you hated, each and every night. It may be, he just really, really likes it.

I any case, do what I do best, outsource the onerous task. For only $600, this little baby can be yours. If you look at the cost benefit of a night's peace for the rest of your life, I am sure you will find it to be a worthwhile investment.

~~It might even have a spin cycle - just for the lady of the house.~~ Just by purchasing this chair, you could let your beloved know how much his comfort and wishes mean to you. The downside is, he may never get out of this chair again.

If the $600 chair is not to be found in your household cookie jar, there is always this alternative...

I am sure it comes with a manual. Wish him the best and go get an early start on your sleep.

Sincerely,

Ditsy

Burining question on your mind? Want to have the mysteries of the universe revealed? Send me a question and I will answer it in an upcoming post. Please submit any and all questions to me by clicking on the 'Contact Me' line on the lefthand navigator (it will give you my email address without my having to reveal it to spambots).

Entropy Entry

2006-03-27T20:39:00.000-07:00

Practical tip for the day, all for you, free of charge!

What to do when you youngest pees through his diaper onto your only serviceable pair of black pants.

Survey the rip in seat of your other pair of black pants. If the rip is less that 1 inch in length, grab the closest pair of clean, black underwear and ** voila ** problem solved, no sewing required.

I, of course, did not do this, just a helpful suggestion.

Is it drafty in here?

*--------* *---------* *----------*

To a specific anonymous male I spoke with last week:

My eyes are located about 1.5 feet above where you were looking while we spoke. Seriously, while I am flattered and proud of my girls and I, like you, think they are amazing, they cannot answer your questions.

Friday Morning (okay, Thursday night for some of you) Confessional

2006-03-23T20:35:00.000-07:00

Confession, it is good for the soul. Try it sometime....

I have stated that I was an angel as a child. I was always the good girl, well behaved and never in trouble. To refute this, my mother sent me my Second grade report card as incontrovertible proof that my assertions were untrue. It is not the grades that she wants me to relay to you - they are all As and Bs, in fact, for 4th Quarter, I had straight As. The problem is with the comments in the back.

First Quarter --

Denice needs to settle down. She is a good student and I enjoy having her in my class.

-- V. Gomez

Second Quarter --

Denice is picking up bad habits at school. She does not come in on time from recess. She is so worried about her boyfriend that it is affecting her work and school habits.

-- V. Gomez

Third Quarter

Denice's behavior needs to improve. She should be one of my best students, but her behavior and attitude is holding her back.

-- V. Gomez

Fourth Quarter

I hope you enjoy your new school (I read that as, "Thank God, she is not my problem anymore!"). I'll miss you. Work hard next year.

-- V. Gomez

My boyfriend's name was Shane Bailey, he was dating my best friends Jenna and Janet and I, all at the same time. I had to work to keep his attention. My teacher was a bottom heavy teacher and as she walked down the hall with the other 2nd grade teacher, who was her best friend, we used to say, "ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom." I consider my ass to be retribution for this rather unkind commentary.

Yes, fine, I may not have been the angel I stated in some of my earlier posts.

Why They Do What They Do

2006-03-21T21:22:00.000-07:00

Some of you may remember I suffered without furniture for some time, before my furniture arrived for my apartment. Not to name, names, but Ashley furniture took 12 weeks to deliver what they said would take 4-8 weeks and let’s not forget, they still have not delivered the sofa table. They tried to twice and it was broken each time, they deliver again on the 26th, third time is the charm, but I digress.

This is a conversation my middle son started about buying new furniture, while we were in the car on the way to somewhere - hell, I don’t remember where I was going – I probably forgot where I was going then, as well and ended up at the ice cream shop -

"Mom, we need to go big furniture shopping again."

"Why is that?"

"Baby threw up on the couch."

"Yes, but I cleaned it up."

"Wellll, it still stinks."

Oldest child adds, “What about that Oxy-clean stuff? That will get it out, it gets everything out. Nothing works better!”

“Yeah, we need Oxy-clean. Are you gonna buy it Mom? It really works, they said so on TV.”

------------

I have been a terrible blogger lately. I have been on an in home sabbatical. My eldest had strep and my hubby is here visiting. Blogger isn't helping much either. I am still kicking and I just want to give everyone a blanket apology for my neglect.

Ask Ditsy

2006-03-16T22:12:00.000-07:00

Are you going to B List Blogger get together?

Alas, no. I cannot attend. I am trapped with 3 children and a visiting brother (whom I love and am ever so grateful to have him travel to the badlands of Arizona) that week. But, you, YOU can go! If you are interested in getting together with some very cool and nice bloggers, the first of June-ish in the South, please email Arabella at arabella at trattoriabreve dot com. I strongly encourage you to go, if you can. Take lots of pictures and have lots of fun, for me!

I am planning on participating in the Breast Cancer 3 day walk in Phoenix, Arizona, November 3-5. If you are interested in walking, click here for more information. Each participant must raise $2,200 to walk, but you have time. I have ~~conned~~ convinced my best friend, Yna, into doing this with me and you can join The Ditsy Chicks team, as well. If you cannot walk, but want to donate, you can click here or email me (click on the contact me button on the left hand navigator). Three days, 60 miles and more than enough walking to have our collective asses hiding in fear for their lives, what more can you ask for? If you cannot join us here in Phoenix, there may be a walk closer to you. If you join the race because of this post and let me know that you did, I promise to donate money towards your walk.

Breast cancer is a serious disease that has taken the lives of so many women and most of us know someone with the disease, recovering from the disease or we may find ourselves battling breast cancer during our own lifetime. I will talk more about Breast Cancer and how it has affected women I love, in time.

Sincerely,

Denice

If you have submitted a question to Ask Ditsy, you are not forgotten, if you have not submitted a question, send me an email and let me know the burning questions you are seeking answers to and I will respond.

Now, if will excuse me, there is a man in my bed and I need to go see if he is interested in some breast awareness of his own.

-----

I tried to post this post last night and Blogger would not co-operate. You are also going to notice that Yna's real name is, if you click on the link to my 3 Day Team page. Yna has approved of my outing her. You will notice our disposition for calling each other by our names - backwards - hence the URL for my blog...ecined and Yna is the last part of her name. Now you know.

Terrible Twos

2006-03-13T20:16:00.000-07:00

Here you are at your last birthday.

And here you are a year later.

Happy Birthday, little one! Please go easy on your parents this year, they are ooooollllddddd and have been through the terrible twos, twice already.

Enjoy your cake and don't forget to share with your siblings.

Next stop, potty training, then, school and then, girls, graduation, college, dating, good job, buying a house (move out of parent's abode), marriage and finally, you can have sex. I expect you to be about 35 by the time you are ready for marriage.

Ahh, sweetie, we couldn't love you more, have great day, month, year and life!

Cuggles,

Mom and Dad

Friday Confessional

2006-03-10T20:22:00.000-07:00

Confession, it is good for the soul. Try it sometime.

This one came to mind from Teeb's post about embarrasing moments.

I took Spanish in Junior High. My teacher was Senor Horton. He was a wind bag, he would throw a ball and hit you as hard as he could, when he wanted you to answer a question. Usually, it was just as you were dozing off and the drool was starting to come out the side of your mouth.

As I was sitting in class one average afternoon, I noticed a certain something on the floor of the class. "Oh, goodie!" I thought, a chance to embarrass the prig. I raised my hand. "Yes, Damacida (stupid ass Spanish name I was assigned in class)?" "Uh, what are those?" Pointing towards the offending object. "Well, I don't know, they are not mine." "Uh, huh and what would you be doing with a pair of girl's underwear in your classroom?" "I don't know, they are not mine."

The class was filled with giggles and snickers. I sat back, filled to the brim with self-satisfaction. That is, until I feel a tap on my shoulder and a girl whispered in my ear, "I think they're yours. I think they were hanging out the leg of your pants on the way into class." I glanced over and damn if they did not look like my favorite pair of purple underwear. "No, they're not mine, I would never own underwear like that, " was my response.

So, since they were not my underwear, I will also tell you that I did not get up late for school that day. I did not spy a pair of pants on my bedroom floor that looked reasonably clean. I did not throw them on without noticing the previous pair of undies were still inside the pant leg of the previously worn jeans. Uh, that means this is not a confession at all. Sorry about that folks, nothing to see here, just keep on surfing......

The Baby Dance

2006-03-09T22:37:00.000-07:00

I created a nice post for you today, but you have to click here to get to it (second one down). I was asked to guest post about motherhood by Holly. You can comment and/or ask questions on either site. Also, Melanhead (who is not a meanhead) posted a guest post on The Baby Dance, as well, you should read it if you get a chance.

Enjoy!

Dating the Principals Son

2006-03-08T13:55:00.000-07:00

Over the course of my life, I have done a few stupid things. Ahem, yes, a few, THAT was not a typo. The thing that brought this maneuver to mind is a meme The Queen Mama birthed some time ago. It asks you to describe your first kiss. It should be great, yes? You should like the guy, yes? Fireworks? Visions of Knights and Castles? ~~Fornication~~ True love? Well here is my story (and sorry the 50 word limit is out the door for this one).

My first kiss was to a guy named Mike, he was the son of the Principal of our school (hence the name of the post, I am, oh, so clever). Mike worked at the record store with me, at least on his breaks from school, during Christmas and summer. He was tall, good looking and had dark, red hair, he was strong, self-assured, educated, older than I was and he scared the shit out of me. I was young, foolish and had no idea where I was going in life and Mike intimidated me with his self-assurance and cynicism - he was so brittle, he put me to shame. For whatever reason, he and the other guys at the record store asked me out, all the time. It really had nothing to do with me, I was their prize of the moment and like everything else, that fades. I figured if I said yes to him, the other guys would leave me alone for awhile and Mike was going back to college in a week, so, how bad could it be? And, as I mentioned, he was good looking, I was not thinking this was a hardship on my part.

From that day forward, he went everywhere with me, lunches and then, he wanted to go out at nights. On our first date, we ended up back at my house, after a nice dinner (it was nice, except for the waiter flipping the soup into my lap). We sat out underneath the stars and he kissed me. He knew I had never kissed a guy before and that would infer I had not done anything else either. He asked if he could kiss me and I said, "yes". He went for the teeth-grinding-tongue-in-the-back-of-your-mouth kiss. I well, gagged and his breath! I realized how much stronger he was than me, when he took my bra off and I pulled away. How did we go from a kiss to the bra in a 5 second period? I have no idea, but he wanted to keep going, I wanted him to keep going, too...home. Finally, I talked him into leaving (where are your parents when you need them dammit?) and avoided him for the next 2 days.

He sent me a dozen roses and a romantic note. I wrote him a thank you note....it said, "Thank you for the flowers. They were lovely. - Denice"

The next time he saw me at Christmas he was pissed at me. Pissed! I was afraid to be anywhere near him. I never saw him again after that. I wonder, even now, if my 34 year old self could handle him - emotionally, intellectually or otherwise.

So, there you have it. This is what you get when your first kiss is not based on romance, respect or interest. I don't think I would change it though, it taught me something and I can appreciate the edification, but dude, next time, at least have some gum in your pocket.

For the record 585 words.

Ear Infections, Sleep and Doozy Quacks

2006-03-07T21:10:00.000-07:00

I'm back, what's that you say? I'm sorry, whadda, whodda, whadda? You didn't whaaaaat? Notice that I was gone? Whew, that makes me feel better for my lack of progress on not only my posts, but my reading. Ack, the truth is I went undercover as a spy to Russia, hooked up with a sexy counter agent, saved the world and had some great sex.

I wish.

I did catch the bug that my son had, as did my middle child and slept almost all weekend long, suffered from a loss of all energy to do anything but order pizza, fuss at my kids and sleep some more. This is kind of like a mini holiday around this place. I plan on catching up with y'all this week and throughout the weekend. I missed you and I hope you are all doing well.

My youngest still has an ear infection, which forces me to add this little tidbit.

Dear Dr. George:

When I tell you that the last 3 times my son has had an ear infection, he developed a reaction to Amoxycilin and Zithromax did not work for his ear and we had to go the shot route to get him over the ear infections, DO NOT smile at me, order Zithromax and tell me to bring him back in for a recheck in a week. UNLESS, you are willing to live with the screaming, whining, crying and angry baby for that week period. If you do not believe the idiot who brought the child in (a.k.a. the mother), you could refer to those pieces of paper in my son's file written by other, highly educated assholes, generally referred to as Medical Records, to confirm what the idiot is saying. Thank you for your attention to this matter. Now take your stethoscope and shove it in your piehole, oh and that will be $20.

Sincerely,

The Idiot (who was right by-the-way, na-na-na-na-na)

I Just Don't Know Where He Gets It From

2006-03-02T20:49:00.000-07:00

I asked my eldest son the other day, "Bud, was Mommy ever a little girl?"

"Yes, yes, you were. And you were raised by monkeys."

"That's right, how did you know?"

*********************************************

Also, check out Staci's post about the new carwash (dated 2/28)
in her neighborhood. Anyone wanna go on a roadtrip? After a few thousand miles, my car may need washed, several times and I would probably spring for a hand wax.....

Evil Science Experiment

2006-02-28T21:50:00.000-07:00

My youngest son has devised a sleep deprivation experiment and I am the only participant. We are on Night 6 of "not letting Mommy get a full night's rest". How am I doing? Fine*, great, I finally took youngest child to the doc's today and he has an ear infection. That should, at least, stop the screaming (both mine and his).

*And when I say fine, I mean I feel like rose petal left too long in the dry, sun and when the slightest breeze touches my brittle skin, I break into pieces and tumble to the ground. I am a real dream to be around today.

On the plus side, I was able to finally update my blogroll with sites that I should have added months ago! I caught up on everyone's blog (I think) and I am going to bed on-time tonight.

Goodnight, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite.

Life is the Shits

2006-02-27T21:05:00.000-07:00

I am sick of this shit. Literally. I cannot stand to see or smell anymore dog poop and I do not own a dog. I must pass 20 - 30 piles of dog poop on my walk to the park with my kids. It's in the sand at the playground, along the sidealk, in the rocks in the breezeway right outside my front door, all over our apartment grounds (where I would like my children to play) everywhere, but in the damn trash can.

I would like to say to these very responsible pet owners (yes, I know most people do clean-up after their dogs, this is to the ones that do not);

"If you would like me to share in the joy that is your animal, clean-up after it. Otherwise, I will schedule a time, when it is convenient for you, of course, to have my 23 month old come over and decorate your carpet, free of charge. As an added bonus, he can also fingerpaint on your walls."

CLEAN IT UP!!!!

Good boy, now go sit in the corner and lick your balls or something.

An Open Letter to the Lame Ass Motherfucker Who Hit My Car Today and Drove Off

2006-02-26T21:06:00.000-07:00

Dear Steve,

Surprise asshole, I know your name, I know who you work for and today is not your lucky day. If, after your boss gets the phone call letting him know that you hit one of your store's customers, you have some extra free time on your hands; I pray that in the future you consider how nice it is to grind your truck door 12 inches across anyone's passenger side door, most especially a minivan. I would also suggest that you not drive off in hopes that owner did not catch who you are, because I did see you as I parked. I saw you and your Science Diet promo materials you were removing from the store, so, I know you are a rep for the damn company. Thank the heavens criminals like you are none too bright. Yeah, you're a criminal, fucktard.

The manager of Petco is not amused, the cops are not amused, my insurance company is not amused and somehow, I find that I am, now, very amused. I would like to see the look on your face when you boss calls you into his office tomorrow in the am. Have a cuppa Joe on me asshole, because god knows the Insurance company is going to take pity on you.

Kiss my ass you son of a bitch and have a nice day.

Denice

I Got Smacked

2006-02-26T10:24:00.000-07:00

One Jolly Ole Yuletide Day, I got a little high on sugar and asked to be smacked, by I Talk Too Much. It appears my wish was granted yesterday.

I escaped complete embarrassment by the skin of my teeth. I was given 3 out of 5 smacks and if you read their reviews that ain't half bad.

Thanks for the smacks ladies.

And, yes, I will go back and fix my Archives.

A Cluster F**ck and A Confession

2006-02-23T21:46:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed a definitive lack of Ditsy comments and posts coming your way this week. Well, there is a reason for it. I have been on my own, with my children since Tuesday. That’s right, my maid, cook, laundress and nanny, a.k.a. my mother, up and skipped town on me and went home. The nerve of some people, it’s not like I offended her by offering to pay her or anything.

How have I done? I’ll let you be the judge:

Wednesday

7:45 am Yell frantically at children, realizing we have 10 minutes before eldest child misses bus to school and not one of them is dressed.

8:10 am Gets back in the car from dropping off children and listening to middle child scream for 5 minutes after she leaves him at daycare.

8:40 am Arrive at work

8:41 am #@$%#@ I left my laptop at home.

8:42 am Finish banging head on steering wheel and head home.

9:20 am Arrive at work the second time for the day.

5:10 pm Ignore phone call from Scottsdale Area Code, thinking, “I don’t know anyone from Scottsdale.”

5:11 pm Retrieve voicemail of screaming woman shouting,” It’s is 5:10 pm why haven’t you picked your KID up yet? Come get him now!!!” Realize today was art class day and should have picked up eldest child by 4:40, it is now rush hour and it will take a minimum of 30 minutes to get to the school.

5:15 pm While driving on the freeway, dial school, sister-in-law and school again, all to no avail.

5:20 pm Sister-in-law calls back, beg her to pickup child and tell her the teacher may be a tad upset, but don’t let her take it out on you. S-I-L readily agrees.

5:35 pm Retrieve eldest from S-I-L’s.

6:25 Retrieve other 2 children

6:35 Attempt to cook nutritious, healthy meal while youngest is screaming and will not be put down, no matter what bribes are offered.

7:00 pm Pop open a beer.

8 pm Put kiddies to bed.

8:01 pm Crawl into bed and hide under covers.

12:30 am Wake up and realize beer is hammering my stomach, like a frat boy trying to get into a kegger on a Friday night.

2:30 am Cuss at frat boy and his progeny

3:30 am Count sheep

5:15 am 5,012 sheep….fall asleep

5:35 am Wake up to diesel truck starting outside my window.

6:00 am Get up and face the day.

My confession is:

I am going to visit the doctor to find myself some happy pills. I am admitting I bit off more than I can chew lately and my family and co-workers are bearing the brunt of it.

I write this not for sympathy, but to tell you that I think it should be more acceptable to talk about our difficulties and our need for assistance. If you are in anyway getting to this point, please seek out someone that can help you. It’s going to be okay.

I’ll catch up with all of you this weekend.

Ask Ditsy - What to Buy

2006-02-21T21:29:00.000-07:00

WARNING: Do NOT click on the title link while at work.

My question for this week comes from Arabella.

Dear Ditsy Chick,

Why is it so difficult for me to find a business suit, for less than $500, that doesn't make me look like one (or more!) of the following:

1.) Joan Crawford circa 1943;
2.) One of the Golden Girls on her way to a charity ball;
3.) Ally McBeal plus twenty pounds of cellulite?

Thanks,

Arabella

Dear Arabella,

I have not had this issue since I moved out of my parent's house and had to pay rent with $5.50/hour job. My glory days of clothes shopping were over and having to ~~subsidize~~ support my husband's job as a public servant, ensures that they will remain over, but I digress.

I am taking a guess that you enjoy a couple of things while shopping, the first, being texture. ~~Expensive~~ Quality clothes feel good - natural silks, wools and linens are decadent to touch and sexy. Not at all like the polyblends I buy from the Roseanne collection at Wally World.

The second, is probably the fit, as you allude to in the Ally McBeal (Ally would not qualify for cellulite at anything less than 50 pounds being added to her anorexic frame - oops, did I say that out loud?). There clearly is a difference between the clothes you buy at the beloved Ann Taylor shops and of course, the Mothership...

Than at, let's say, the place which loving refers to itself as a store for women and a place that livestock live.

Finally, don't the salesclerks in the nicer stores, just smell helpful? Or is that just me?

Here is what I would suggest:

If you have the money and you don't mind spending it on a quality suit that is going to last, don't give it another thought. Why wouldn't you do this, for the love of God, do it for those of us who cannot afford drycleanable (is this a word?) clothes and dainty fabrics that cannot standup to smashed bananas or clinging ~~brats~~ children? Take one for the team here....Sorry, that just slipped out.

If you want more clothes and do not want to shell out the cash, you can take a couple of approaches. The first approach is split the outfit up, buy the jacket or the pants that you love and pair them with something that is not quite in the same league as the first piece. The second approach, is to shop and the nice, but not quite so pricey stores, such as, Macy's or, well, Macy's. Their sales are spectacular!

Also, plan ahead and shop the sales. The Mothership has her twice yearly sale and if you have one of their cards you will receive advance notice of the sales. Buying off-season is another great way to save without sacrificing quality, most suits stay in fashion for a few years, so buying off-season will not hurt its wardrobe longevity.

Ah, hell, just do what I did, husband and money be damned, the real solution is; gain 70-80 pounds and your problem will be forever solved, because they don't even attempt to make nice clothes for anyone with a 'W' right after the size. Saved me a truckload of money. And trust me, if you look like a Golden Girl at that point, you would be glad you could breathe in the fargin' thing.

I'm off to see what the livestock shop has in store for me for the summer. Can I wear Carhartt's to the office? 'Cause those suckers last forever! And, whoooieee, aren't they sexy? We won't discuss what those salespeople smell like...because I am a lady, dammit!

Best Wishes,

Ditsy

Need a question answered? Click on the 'contact me' link to send me an email.

Necessities

2006-02-20T21:17:00.000-07:00

One Sunday afternoon, while I was still in college, I realized, my boyfriend and I needed to make a run to the grocery store. Nothing big, just the fillers to get us through the day.

We got into the car and drove to the neighborhood grocers. After bagging up our 4 items; the bagger gave us a hearty, “Have a great day!” “Oh, WE WILL!” came my boyfriend’s enthusiastic response, eliciting snickers from the Cashier and the guy in line behind us.

Here is what we bought:

6 pack of beer
Tube of Pillsbury cookie dough
Milk
Trojans

I am so glad I wasn’t buying tampons, because that would have been embarrassing.

Friday Confessional

2006-02-17T15:32:00.000-07:00

Confession, it is good for the soul. Try it sometime...

Horray for Friday!

A quickie to get your weekend started...

Sometimes, I like my husband. Usually, this happens when I am not living with him, but there are moments....even he cannot be wrong all of the time....here's why....

I called him this morning, telling him I needed cheering up. Did he have anything for me?

"Uhhh, you look nice today."

He lives 1,000 miles North right now, he has no idea how I look today and damn, if his comment did not cheer me up!

Go check out Melanhead's Person of the Week.

Ask Ditsy

2006-02-16T19:51:00.000-07:00

Thank you for wishing me a speedy recovery and your warm reception to Yna.

Here it is my inaugural "Ask Ditsy" post.

My first question comes from Holly. She asks....

"Why is sneezing like an orgasm? Why, since someone told me that sneezing is like an orgasm, do I like sneezing so much now?? Why, since learning to harness the power of sneezing by looking into a light have I not only improved my ability to control sneezing, but my orgasms have improved??

Can you tell me this?? Huh??"

I did a little digging around and there is an apparent relationship between sneezing and light, it is called the "ACHOO syndrome" and you can read it about it here (you thought I made that up didn't you?).

I also found this on Wikipedia:

"One reason that the sneeze is attractive to a person may be its parallels to sexual orgasms. The period of expectation, the expulsion and the after-effect is a comparison to the cycle of that of an orgasm. Both fetishists and non-fetishists report an enjoyable feeling gained after a particularly good sneeze."

Here is my answer:

I had never heard of this before, but I want what you have. If you figure out how you control the sneezegasm, write a book. You will be one heck of a popular person and a millionaire to boot. I want the first copy.

Sincerely,

Ditsy

My second question comes from The Gradual Gardener.

Dear Ditsy Chick,

My mother just started her own blog, www.riverwitch.blogspot.com. But, it's pink. Pink, I tell you! Should I read it anyway?

Sincerely,
The Gradual Gardener

Here is my answer:

Dear GG,

I have visited The River Witch and I seeth no pink. The witch hath played nasty tricks on your eyes and you must go visit the optometrist post haste. Also, if your mother is writing a blog, it is your duty to patrol it for embarrassing childhood stories akin to this one. Especially, now that other nosey bloggers are bound to blogroll her site and wait in anticipation for any potential blackmail material we they can find.

Sincerely,

Ditsy

Thank you Holly and GG for submitting your questions. I will be doing this each week, permitting I have a question to answer. So, send in whatever you want, click on 'contact me' on the lefthand navigator.

Guest Post #1: You Did NOT Just Say That?!!!!!

2006-02-15T22:47:00.000-07:00

Denice called and left me a voicemail this afternoon and said she was sick and going home to bed and if I wanted to guest post – here was my first opportunity. So Carpe Diem – I am taking it!!!! The reason I offered to guest post is that I have some great Ditsy stories that I’d like to share with you – her adoring blogging buddies.

But first, some background. Denice and I have been friends for about 10 years now. We worked together in the Technology Department for a Fortune 100 company. We were young, just out of college, recently married, naïve and ambitious. We worked a lot of hours. No, I mean a LOT of hours. Think about working a lot of hours – now multiply that by 100X. We had a hotel room next to the office where we could crash. And we all lived not more than 30 minutes from the office. We didn’t go home for the entire month of June 1997 – and it bears repeating we all lived not more than 30 minutes from the office!!! Needless to say, we got to know our team members very well.

My favorite Denice story is one that she has mentioned here in a previous post, but I’m going to tell it from my point of view. Denice was the strategic technology liaison for an entire product line that ran on our platform. She was the first line of contact for new product development, as well as troubleshooting problems with existing product lines. Our business partner happened to be rather…..um…… high strung. High maintenance and high strung. Larry lisped when he spoke, skipped when he walked and his voice got high and shrill when he was upset. One afternoon, I overheard Denice speaking on her cell phone to Larry who happened to be particularly high and shrill that day. I could only really hear her side of the conversation:
“Yes, there seems to be a problem. I will look into and let you know when it is resolved.”
“I will put together a root-cause analysis and include future preventative measures.”
“We’ve identified the problem and I’ll let you know when it is fixed.”
“It’s hard to give you an exact ETA – we will do everything we can do to get it up as soon as possible.”
“I shouldn’t take very long – I’ll get it taken care of as soon as possible”
“I’m fully aware of the impact. We’ve identified the problem and the resolution is in progress.”
“I know you want me to give you a specific time, but I can’t at this point. We’ll get it resolved as soon as we can!”
“I don’t have an ETA, Larry!!!”
“The sooner I can get off the phone with you, the sooner I can get your problem solved!!!!”

I turned to her, “Are you on mute?”
“No” she replies.
“You did NOT just say that to him!!!”
“Yes. Yes, I did.” She retorted defiantly.
My jaw dropped onto my chest with an audible "Thud."

I had always wanted to say something like that. I still do. I just don’t have the guts to ever tell a business partner (or even a telemarketer, for that matter) something like that. I still remind her of that day, every once in a while. Although we have both gotten older, wiser, more mature and become mothers, it’s still important to keep in touch with that fire -and to keep it flickering (or at least smoldering). Every now and then, I hear that old spark in Denice. That spark is the part of her that you get to experience here at Ditsy Chick every day – it now has a voice.

Get feeling better, my friend. Thanks for letting me post.
Love ya.
Yna

The Buck(shot) Stops Here

2006-02-14T20:49:00.000-07:00

During this time of National tragedy, I would never want to take advantage of this moment to make fun of this man. It would not be appropriate to poke fun of someone I view with general dislike, just to kick him when he is down. Furthermore, I would not want to say anything along the lines of, "if this is how he treats his friends, where are the bodies of his enemies hidden?" Yes, it is a good thing, I am such a decent human being.

I would like to draw your attention to a change in the sidebar. There is a new 'contact me' link on the left hand navigator. I am adding a new regular feature to my blog, "Ask Ditsy". You can send me an email to ask me any question you have always wanted to know the answer to; it could be questions about me, how to get out of a sticky situation or general advice (why anyone would want me to give you any advice at all is a good question all by itself). Please indicate if you wish your question to stay anonymous or the name you want to have attached to the question. Also, indicate if you just want me to send an email response to you or if it is acceptable to have it appear on my blog. If I get a good question by tomorrow, I will begin the feature tomorrow.

At Last

2006-02-13T22:32:00.000-07:00

Well, now, we could not let the big V-Day pass without comment could we? Apparently not.

Here are a couple of romantic stories about my husband (and partially inspired by Tink).

Numero Uno - One fine day, my husband and I were watching Oprah. She posed the question to the audience, "what would you do, if you wife and children were drowning and you had to chose between you wife and child to rescue?"

Pat yells, "I'd take the kid!!!"

This is the right answer isn't it? I agree it is. However, we did not have any children at the time and all I could do was think, "great, he's chosen some yet-to-be-conceived child over me." I huffed about it for days, ahem, I might still huff about it, even now.

Numero Dos - Our wedding reception was an outdoor reception, at the Millcreek Inn, in Millcreek Canyon, just outside of Salt Lake City. It was beautiful, the food was amazing, the atmosphere was everything I had dreamed of - friends and family mingling and laughing all under God's canopy. We did the first dance of the night and we danced to Sting's "When We Dance." I was under the spell of the music, dancing alone on the dance floor with my beloved, when he whispers in my ear, " Jesus, how long is this damn song anyway?" Yeah, he still got lucky that night, I was drunk, what can I say.

Here are some romantic sensual gestures I have been wishing for lately (I am taking any offers that come my way, at this point, I am willing to consider women, it has been THAT damn long).

A woman loves to have her hair upswept and her neck kissed, gently to the ear.
Being encompassed by a man in a reassuring hug, just because he feels like it.
Hands gliding gently up your thighs.
Kisses from our navels to our necks.
Hot breath, next to our ears.
Fingers moving gently down your back.
Kissing the inside of your wrist.
Touching the back of our knees and moving slowly down to the ankles.
Gentle kisses and tugging on the earlobe.

Leading up to a hot bath with lilac salts and rose pedals. The door locked and the kids kept away....

We are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love. ~Author Unknown

Happy Valentine's Day!

Now There Is A Word For It

2006-02-13T06:48:00.000-07:00

I present to you the Miriam-Webster Word of the Year.

integrity

Pronunciation: in-'te-gr&-tE
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English integrite, from Middle French &amp;amp;amp; Latin; Middle French integrité, from Latin integritat-, integritas, from integr-, integer entire
1 : firm adherence to a code of especially moral or artistic values : INCORRUPTIBILITY
2 : an unimpaired condition : SOUNDNESS
3 : the quality or state of being complete or undivided : COMPLETENESS
synonym see HONESTY

In general, I tend to shy away from trendy, corporate, buzz words, they are often over and improperly used. In fact, up until today, you will have found this blog to be completely integrity free. This is probably because the person who writes this blog, did not bother to lookup the meaning of the word, until today.

I like this word, even if it is an over-used, buzz word. I was once asked at an interview, “what does integrity mean to you?” I forget what I said, but I must have given a decent answer, as I did get this job. Since that day, I have actually thought about this answer time and again, here is what I would say today, if I were asked this question again.

Integrity is being able to look at myself directly in the eye, through the looking glass, each and every day. It is making my actions match what I tell my children they should be doing. It is a commitment to myself to like who I am and what I do.

You may find it difficult to believe, but I try to have integrity in my life and it is a difficult thing to accomplish. Yes, I like this word. What is the Word of the Year for you?

I have two more items for the day, the first is my best friend Yna would like to guest post on this blog….she says she has stories to tell about me that you need to know. I am going to let her post, because I don’t have the grace to be ashamed of most of the things that come out of my mouth and/or I was a whole lot younger back then and I have since matured. I will let you decide which is applicable to which story.

The second item is this Simpson’s personality test. I have been laughing about it since Saturday, when I took the test….it does not match my integrity credo, at all, but it is, at least in part, true.

You Are Mr. Burns

Okay, so you're evil...

You have big plans to rule the world, and you'll destroy it in the process if necessary!

You will be remembered for: the exploitation of the masses

Life philosophy: "One dollar for eternal happiness? I'd be happier with the dollar."

The Simpsons Personality Test

I encourage you to take the test.

Friday Morning Confessional

2006-02-10T10:13:00.000-07:00

Confession, it is good for the soul. Try it sometime…

Once upon a time, I interviewed at a bank for a Teller position. I was 19 years old and working in a bank seemed so much more inviting than working at the local greasy spoon. I actually managed to land an interview. I have to say, that when I walked in for my interview, I looked hot. I had on my Jones of NYC, black, straight skirt (size 6) and matching black jacket, an ivory silk blouse with gold buttons, and Amalfi gold shoes, hot, I tell you. I was a shoo-in for the job.

Right up until they asked me this question.

What do you want to do in 5 years?

Here is my answer, not edited in any way to save my pride.

I don’t know, graduate from college, get married, maybe buy a house.

End of interview.

Could someone please explain to my why I did not get this job? Seriously, I looked good.

Motivation

2006-02-08T20:06:00.000-07:00

Psst, I am going to let you in on an inside tip - the quickest way to get me to do something is to piss me off. If you tell me I cannot do something or should not do something, I am on it, like the proverbial fly on shit. When I hear these types of statements, every Neanderthal, gorilla, monkey and chimp from my family history starts pounding their chest and throwing fecal matter at the thought of a challenge (sorry, it’s the Anthropology degree. Have I mentioned I minored in English? The amount of time those poor professors spent, trying to make me literate...)

Witness this story:

When I was 21 years old, I spent the summer in Jackson, Wyoming. My Dad was upset because, he wanted me to stay home and work in Salt Lake, I, on the other hand, wanted to get away. I had been wallowing and drifting at the uber-commuter school, the University of Utah and I needed some inspiration. So, I landed 2 jobs, worked 60 hours a week, met friends, enjoyed the scenery and partied (not much though, I worked a too much to party a whole lot) in Jackson for the summer. During my summer, I also decided that since this really cute guy I was dating and one of my best friends from high school were going to Utah State University, I would make a change of schools at the end of the summer. I notified my parents of my plan. I thought my Dad would be thrilled, since Utah State was much less expensive than the U. He didn’t say much on the phone, although, my Dad is never a man of many words on the best of days.

A day later, I got a letter from him and this one was far worse than the one he sent me at Girl Scout Camp. He said,

I was making a mistake and he was not going to support me any longer. I was on my own and he wanted my truck returned to him as soon as I was finished in Jackson - unless, I had a sudden return to sanity and moved home and attended the U.

I wrote him a letter back, crying the entire time I wrote the damn thing, saying that,

I thought going to Utah State was a good decision and I hoped he would have enough faith in me in a person to have the judgment skills to determine what school might be better for me. I was sorry he felt that way, but there was not a chance in hell I was going back to the U.

I turned in my truck, moved to Utah State, paid for my tuition, became an Undergraduate Teaching Assistant and maintained a 3.8 g.p.a. for the next 5 quarters. I found a college that I loved, friends I adored and married the cute guy I was dating. TAKE THAT YOU SOB! Dad woke up to the fact that he had lost control over me and relented a little bit, he gave me my truck back....but, he never did help out with housing or tuition, ever again. Oh, well. We’re doing better now, thanks for asking.

So, for good or ill, if I get pissed off, I get motivated. It is a sad defect in my personality.

Now, if an of you could leave a comment telling me there is no way in heaven or hell, that I could lose 150 pounds and quit drinking Coke , I would appreciate it.

I Have A Plan

2006-02-07T21:23:00.000-07:00

As I looked up from my dayplanner to my wall calendar, hanging next to my computer, I was jarred by the realization that I have 5 (F-I-V-E) calendars I use, at my desk alone.

1 electronic calendar on my computer
1 paper dayplanner , because I don't trust my computer
2 calendars of my kids
1 pretty one, I picked out for the pictures (clouds)

Then, I realized I have 2 more calendars at home (not counting the one hanging on the fridge with my son's lunch menu on it). NONE of them are 100% correct or up-to-date. One is for work, one is for home, one is a backup, just in case the other one starts on fire......

I suddenly realized what had happened to cause this, somewhere along the way (after losing my mind from a 1,000 mile move, transitioning to single parenting and a rough start in my new job) I told myself, "I needed to get my shit together." This means I need to get organized and stop messing up meetings, school functions, etc.. What helps me with this? Why calendars, of course! So, everytime I saw a calendar, I thought, "OOOOOH, this will help me get organized."

So, now, I have 7 (S-E-V-E-N) calendars and not one agrees on what I am supposed to be doing tomorrow, or next week. In truth, I would say, I am more disorganized than ever.

God help me if I ever get this organization shit figured out. I would rule the world! So, what does one person need 7 calendars for? Fuck if I know, maybe I can cut out the nicer pictures and frame them, since I don't have anything else hanging on my walls.

Bj's Bar and Grill

2006-02-06T21:17:00.000-07:00

Since we are on the topic and Blogger is down. I found a picture to go with yesterday's blog and was sent this link, by a loyal reader. DO NOT CLICK ON THIS LINK AT WORK!

I hope you enjoy once Blogger is back up.

The Chocolate "One Eyed Wonder Worm"

2006-02-05T12:27:00.000-07:00

A very NC-17 post for Super Bowl Sunday.

For my 21st birthday, my friend purchased a chocolate, "one eyed wonder worm" for me. It was something similar to the picture above, but much, much more realistic. It was handmade with some TLC and looked like the real McCoy. One of the first things I did with it was, whip it out (hasn't every woman always wanted to say that?), show my boyfriend (now my husband) and tell him, "look, I have a penis!" I was proud of my penis and I kept it in the fridge for months, but regardless of the fact it was supposed to be made of the finest chocolate, I could not bring myself to eat it. I couldn't do it. Eventually, I realized it was time for my penis to go and out it went, still in its original box. I miss it every once in awhile.

Which makes me wonder, if chocolate melts at body temperature, what if it had been used for, uh, other things. Would I have a chocolate coated....nevermind.

Friday Night Confessional

2006-02-03T22:02:00.000-07:00

Confession, it is good for the soul. Try it sometime.

Sorry, this is a little late today. I suspected this was coming and wanted to wait, just in case. I confess, I have been keeping a secret from you for the past couple of weeks. Can you guess what it is about? Like it? Me too. As you can see, I have been released from template purgatory and have something a little bit more personalized to show for it.

I did pay someone to do this to me. As I don't have the time or the patience to play around with HTML myself. This was done by a lovely HS English Teacher named Ginger. You can click on the link on the sidebar to find out more about her. I picked her, because, I liked the Suburban Turmoil template (Lucinda's blog) and her prices are really reasonable.

Anyway, I feel like I got all gussied up. I cannot believe how much better I feel when I see this template, it's like I have a new outfit of my own. WTF? Perhaps, this is because this blog is all you see of me and I wanted it to feel like it had more of my own touch.

The Games People Play

2006-02-02T19:39:00.000-07:00

It has come to my attention that the Super Bowl is Sunday. Let me just tell you how much I do not care about this year’s Super Bowl. This in fact, has pretty much been the case, since Joe Montana left the league and that fairy (apologies to fairies everywhere) from BYU took over the 49ers. So, why is it men feel so compelled to let their life revolve around sports, anyway? This is especially true in the office. I figure you have two options when sports come up at work: a) play dumb and they will leave you alone or b) read the headlines of the Sports section of the newspaper and pretend you know what you are talking about.

In my lifetime, I have taken both approaches. The other day I asked a male co-worker who was in the Super Bowl and when he answered, I followed-up with, “Does that mean UCLA is out?” He’ll never talk to me about sports again, I guarandamnteeit. As I mentioned, I used to try to humor the guys, I would bring up one headline and it would send a guy pontificating for 30 minutes, all the while, I mentally cleaned out my refrigerator. I found this approach to be an unproductive use of my time and stick with option A for most occasions.

I keeping thinking, forget stats, let’s talk about the important stuff – jockstrap malfunctions, who’s hot and who are they dating. That’s interesting stuff. Otherwise, I like to go to sports arenas and see the real thing or I even like it when people join a local office team. Four hours of my life devoted to one game? When all that really matters is the last two minutes of play? No thanks.

Unless, it is the Olympics. The sporting event of the year! Heck, of the next two years! I sure hope Italy has their act together, because I will be watching – laughing, cheering, booing and crying with the best of them. The drama, the crashes the victories, people who are relative nobodies for 98% of their life, these athletes have devoted their lives to their sport, even without the huge payouts (discounting the US Men’s Basketball team in the summer Olympics, of course).

And (never start a sentence with and, didn’t your mother teach you anything?), I totally track the medal count, because, the country that has the most medals wins. It’s in da rule book, look it up.

Girl Scout Camp

2006-02-01T20:45:00.000-07:00

Something I did the other day reminded me of my time at Girl Scout Camp, I think it was singing this song to my boys. Ahh, yes, the days at camp; for two weeks out of my summers, from ages 10-14, I attended Camp Cloud Rim. Located in the mountains above Deer Valley, Utah, it is a beautiful place, full of fresh air and surrounded by the Rockies. The hikes and the healthy food, whipped me into shape quickly. I learned a lot during my time at camp; what women and girls look like when they don’t shave under their armpits, all about hypothermia and giardia, how to drop a counselor on her head during the trust fall exercise and there are mosquitoes out there that can indeed suck blood through denim.

There were tons of character building opportunities as well. How fast could we ostracize at least 1 member of our tent for the entire 2 week period? Which counselors were lesbians? Would it be fun to BE a lesbian? Try to guess the counselors real name or get them to tell you before the end of camp. Important skills for life. Also, I would write letters to my family, every day and wait for their letters to come and wait and well, wait some more. Finally, my last year of camp, my Dad sent me a letter. It said something along the lines of, ‘Hi, Denice, I hope you are well. I will see you in 2 days. Love, Dad’ and for posterity, he stuck the toothpick he had been chewing on into the envelope. I guess this was my father’s equivalent to a care package.

My fondest memory, though, is of the lake. We spent part of each day swimming in a lake, I would say it was a modest 65 to 70 degrees in the summer and I, so, loved swimming there, I actually swam in my underwear and a shirt, the year I managed to forget my bathing suit. I hated the fish though, the disgusting, scaly creatures would brush by me or bite my toes and I would scream. What I liked the most about the lake was the hippo . I wanted to see on the hippo more than anything. Countless counselors (Maacia, Queue, Fergie and Shambala – I remember you, yes, I do) had told me there was a hippo in our lake and each year I looked and looked for her. Some of the counselors would go out snorkeling and I would ask if they had seen the hippo, they would say, “Yes, over there by the rocks.” Pointing to the farthest part of the lake - away from where we were allowed to swim. For years, I looked for the hippo, years, I tell you. I even went back one summer as an adult to try to see her, but no such luck. It is enough to make you think they were lying to me all that time.

I was always glad to go home and on the way back I would beg my father to stop and let me have a hamburger and a coke. But, there was one year, I didn’t do any begging on the way home. In fact, I didn’t do anything out of line for months after camp. Not because I had built up my character during camp, no, you see, they had missed me so much, they plum forgot to come pick me up when camp was over. I figured if they were willing to leave me at camp, there was no telling what minor infraction might get me sent away to military school.

File This One Under 'A No Brainer'

2006-01-30T19:33:00.000-07:00

Little Miss Controversy rears her head today!

Dear Charlton Heston,

I don't respect you and I hate the NRA. I am unabashedly liberal on gun control, no apologies and I will not be changing my mind about this issue. This is no longer the Wild West and the gunslinger mentality has got to go. To me it is simple, if every average citizen does not have a gun to carry to every conceivable function (a gun in church? Honestly, you need a gun in church?), there would be less gun related violence. Period. But, noooo, we sell guns and bullets like candy. "Hey, honey, stopped at a pawn shop today and picked up a sweet glock."

And, really what does anyone need an AK-47 for? To bring home little deer pieces, such as, this?

I am fine with hunting, but if you have a gun, keep it home and lock it up. I think guns are also fine in the hands of a trained professional, not the average citizen. I know there are days when it is a very good thing I don't have a gun or there are a couple of drivers out there with who would be sporting a nice cap in their respective asses. We, your average citizens, (and postal workers) should not be carrying guns as we go about our everyday lives. We are not trained in anger management or how to handle a gun and we may not even have a license. It's enough to scare the holy spirit out of me. Put your guns down and back away! Apparently, everyone outside of the United States has figured out our gun fetish is causing our gun violence problems, why can't you?

Sincerely,

Denice

This topic is at the forefront of my mind, because of Mickey D's this weekend. As I sat there, watching my children play, I realized the 3 boys that were already in the play area were brothers and the oldest boy was, well a bit of a bully. He was much bigger than his brother and he was pulling and hitting him, while Dad yacked on his cell phone. Bully child managed to corner my oldest son and trap him in the toy. My son and the Bully's brother started banging on the plexy glass and yelling for help. My son yelled he was trapped and Bully child was hitting and kicking him. I told the boy to let me son go. As I turned around, Dad was off the phone staring at me. I resisted the urge to mouth off about his child's behavior and sat back down. When the family got up to leave a few minutes later, Bully's brother told his father, he was being punched and kicked by his Bully brother. Dad said, "well, stop being such a wuss." As they walked off I noticed a gun clipped in Dad's left hand pocket.

Another One Bites the Dust

2006-01-27T21:44:00.000-07:00

I am having a moment. I had a stomping, hissy-fit and it did no good! Not one stinkin' bit, she still did it. She muttered something about a new job, kids, husband and no time to update. Yes, Yna, my BFF, who started me down this blogging path to perdition, has yanked her blog. I loved her blog, but I am lucky enough to trouble her in life. So, blog or not (she still contributes to Blob Space) I still get to talk to her almost everyday. You will also probably hear about her in my blog again.

Goodbye Reality-Challenged, R.I.P. I am leaving you on my blogroll, until I am ready to let you go...which may be never.

Friday Morning Confessional

2006-01-26T21:00:00.000-07:00

Confession, it is good for the soul. Try it sometime....

Back in my Catholic high school days, I was, not popular. That was fine with me, as I hated how shallow most of the popular kids were in our school. They lacked depth, character, vision and the challenges that makes a person interesting. At least that was my opinion at the time. That meant that their opinion meant zip to me and shocking them became one of my favorite pastimes. I am confessing one of my minor misdeeds from back in the day.

One day, my very good friend, said she wanted to dance. She was in the cafeteria at school at the time and we had another hour before our next class. I told her she should dance and she said, no, there was no music and people would see her. I laughed, because, up until this point in our friendship, she had never cared what others thought about her. So, I climbed up on the wooden table, in my woolen uniform skirt and proceeded to dance the Irish jig for the population of the cafeteria. Oh, my friends tried to stop me, they tried to get me down, but I was having none of it. I laughed and finally got down off the table, before I had broken the poor, ratty table.

That dance was one of the most liberating things I have ever done in my life. I've never had much love for convention, but you would never know it just to look at me.

So, wherever you are today and whatever you are doing, I hope you do a little dance and laugh like the girl or boy you once were.

Coffee with Squiggy

2006-01-26T20:31:00.000-07:00

I have not spoken much about my little 22 month old. So, let me tell you, he is a natural born talker. He says things you would not expect out of a 3 year old (he is advanced for his age, or so his momma thinks) and talks or sings or jabbers all the time. Here is a smattering of what an evening with Squiggy sounds like....

"What are you DO-ING momma?"
"I’m working on my computer."
"Why?"

"Blah, blubby, do, do, Thomas train shish, shee sha momma!"
"Really?"
"Yes."

"Here da go, momma."
"Momma, Momma, MOMMA, MOMMA! MMMMOOOOOMMMMAAA!!!"
"What?"
"Up, up."
"I love you."
"I love you, too."

(After hearing my middle child in the bedroom in timeout he says)

"Mommy’s mean."

Ditsy Chick

Crash Into Me

A Good Ribbing

Yna's Unemployed

A New Plan

The Official Ditsy Chick Girls' Weekend Shopping List

You Live, You Learn

It's Complicated

Temper, Temper

A Talk with My Oldest Son

Loss

Gardening

Spirits In The Material World

Girls Out On The Town

My Hot Date Saturday Night

Siblings

This is the post, where I finally earn my one way, non-refundable ticket to h*e* double hockey sticks

I Can't Believe I Am Doing This...

Taking Tylenol PM and Hitting My Mattress

Let Me Hear Your Body Talk

Insight Into My Subconscious

Sharing

Stressed is Desserts Spelled Backwards

Sticking My Foot In It - Digitally Speaking

Inappropriate Workplace Conversation

Lunch

Groceries

I Love This Picture

Internet Love Song Part II

Til Death Do Us Part

Internet Love Song, Part I

Weekly Words Challenge #40

An Explanation of Sorts

When Life Hands You Lemons, Ask for Tequila and Salt

Weekly Words Challenge #39 & Headlines of The Day

Corporate Buzz Words That Suck

Millie Is In The Dog House

Converations with My Wii Fit Instructor

Today's Quickie

There's A Hole In the Bucket

A Letter to Star jones

The Advent of Nicotine Gum

Why I Am Going Shopping at Lunch Today

Two'fer Special

Rock on Sista

Word of Advice

Entered A Contest - Why I Need A Getaway

DAMMIT Jim, I'm a Doctor, Not a miracle worker!!!

…..and a chicken in every pot

Breaking News

If you do this.... STOP IT!!!!

Blood in the Water

Breast Cancer 3-Day Training Has Begun

Go in peace son, for thou art truly blessed

A Riddle for the Day

Musings on Motherhood

Welcome, Welcome

The Shit, The Fan and Everything Else In Between

Tired of Those Boring Gap Outfits for Your Kids?

Commerical Conundrum

Your Cheatin' Heart...

Continuing on the Tax Theme

The Tax Man Cometh

Hey, Howdy, Hey

Oh, The Place You Will Go

Ask Ditsy

Entropy Entry

Friday Morning (okay, Thursday night for some of you) Confessional

Why They Do What They Do

Ask Ditsy

Terrible Twos

Friday Confessional

The Baby Dance

Dating the Principals Son

Ear Infections, Sleep and Doozy Quacks

I Just Don't Know Where He Gets It From

Evil Science Experiment

Life is the Shits

An Open Letter to the Lame Ass Motherfucker Who Hit My Car Today and Drove Off

I Got Smacked

This is the post, where I finally earn my one way, non-refundable ticket to he double hockey sticks