Weekends SUCK

In my warped mind I would think that weekends would totally rock in Blogland. I've swiftly learned that this is not the case! Weekends totally SUCK!!! Everyone is too busy living lives that are more exciting than mine and can't blog about it until the hangover wears off....or Monday arrives, whichever comes first. I'm thinking that usually it's Monday arriving. That's the conclusion I've come up with. So....I guess there's only one thing for me to do....I need to dive into the alcohol we have from New Years 2004. As you can see, we can't even call ourselves social drinkers!

My new weekend goals need to include: drinking until the room spins, puking until I've puked up my toenails, moaning and groaning in alcohol induced agony, staying in the moment so that I can blog all about it on Monday, and, of course, using chocolate to cure my hangover! This list is MUCH better than my current list: sit on my fat ass reading blogs and wishing my blog could look as cool as others I've seen. Yeah, I know, that list is downright pathetic!

I have too much laundry to do to start my new weekend routine this weekend.....next weekend, I'll be an alcohol powered funbag.....unless the laundry fairies are still on strike.

peeeee-ewwwwww

Holy halitosis, Batman! Something is decomposing in my mouth. I'm sure you don't really want to know all the details, but I'm in a sharing kind of mood today. I'm thinking that I've either gotten some food particles in my gaping hole or....I don't know what or could be. I don't remember this awful taste and smell when I've had other teeth pulled. When I had an abscessed tooth I had horrid halitosis and the taste of decomposition (not that I really know what decomposition would taste like, I can only imagine)....once I got that tooth pulled all the horrid crap went away, too.

The tooth I just had pulled wasn't infected....it was on its' way to being abscessed, but it wasn't to that point, yet. I wanna shove a breath strip into my gaping hole.....now, I just need to get some breath strips.

For now, I'm gonna go gargle with chocolate milk.....that sounds like a perfect solution! But, y'all know me...chocolate is always my solution!

Roommate Update

For those keeping track of our adventures with Manpig & Free-Rider here's the latest:

It was a sleepy and snorey night....Butchy still 3/4 asleep made it into the bathroom without stubbing her toes or running into any walls. Suddenly she found herself standing in a puddle....yes, a puddle which happened to be right in front of the potty!!! With a few well chosen expletives (fancy word for cuss words) she finished her bizness, threw her soaked socks into the laundry and started planning Manpig's (aka: Leland's) violent death.

Prison is not the ideal place to spend the rest of your life....even though you do get free medical, dental, education, food, rent, laundry service...WAIT! maybe it is an ideal place! Well, except for your neighbors, I hear they can be horrid. Anyway.......Butchy doesn't have prison on her list of places to live before she dies. So, murder was no longer an option. We had to come up with something to deal with Leland's "pissues." Talking to Free-Rider (aka: Jerry ) was a huge waste of oxygen.....he's got the backbone of a jellyfish. I bet his balls are the size of raisins....if he has any at all. He responded to our extremely valid complaint by basically letting us know we were being petty. Trust me, if Free-Rider walked in Manpig's piss he would have a huge faggy-fit.

We have come up with a solution to our problem....we bought a new doorknob for the bathroom. Manpig will have to use Free-Rider's bathroom. Considering the upstairs bathroom is 2-3 times the size of the one the 3 of us have been using....there's plenty of room for Manpig to piss all over the place! We're pretty sure that Free-Rider will have a faggy-fit about us locking Manpig out.....oh well. He didn't solve the problem, so we had to! He will just have to deal with it!

Now we just need to find the time to get the new doorknob installed. I'm going to have to wear the key on a lanyard around my neck. Guess I'll become pretty good at doing the pee-pee dance while unlocking the door! Sure beats having to deal with Manpig's pee all over the place.

ewwwwwwww

I must be feeling better, I'm a blogging fool right now! This is like my 3rd post for the day!

It was a must that I post about this:

I can't begin to imagine the thought process that created this "work of art." This is just wrong! This wiped the Pooh-smile right off my face...now my face looks more constipated. Can you imagine some smart ass coming up behind her to snap her brastrap and grabbing the ribbon instead? YEEEEOUCH!!!

What's up with kids today? Why am I suddenly feeling ancient?

I just had a thought...if the ribbon was tightened would that make her waist look smaller?

Smiles

There are many things in life that makes my heart smile. I find smiles in very simple things, it doesn't take much at all to make me happy. A Happy Meal prize....huge-headed stuffed cat with itty-bitty-body, new pen, watching Lily-Kid sleep, Tiggy Boy "making his bed," Tubthumping my Chumbawamba, fresh sheets, good hair-day, migraine-free day, finding integrity, yard sale with lots of good books, perfect corndog...crunchy on the outside soft and moist on the inside, perfect outside temperature....72 degrees.......see it doesn't take much to make me smile.

One guaranteed way to get a smile from me is Pooh. That's right, Winnie the Pooh. I love nothing more than finding a stuffed Pooh at a yard sale or thrift store. Recently I found an adorable Pooh-stuffy for only $1.99!!! He's even got a little hunny pot! Seeing Pooh Bear stitting next to my monitor, that's a day full of smiles. I adore Pooh, what's not to love? Here's some free smiles:

What makes you smile?

OMG!!! After writing this post and posting it I picked up Pooh and was fiddling with his hunny pot....suddenly music started coming out of it!!!! The Pooh Song!!! How cool is that?!?!?! Now I'm seriously smiling....ouch! My mouth isn't ready for serious smiles....

aaahhhhh

Today is a better day. It could be the ice cream talking, but I think I'm over the worst of this tooth ordeal. I've been sleeping like a hibernating bear....wouldn't it be cool if humans could hibernate like that? I wouldn't like the buttplug, but maybe sleeping through the winter would be an easy way to lose weight?!? I'm all for easy weightloss.

Sunday can't come fast enough. I keep seeing the previews for Riding the Bus With My Sister and I can't wait to watch it! The previews look wonderful. Rosie's character, Beth, is so pure and loving. We need a world full of Beths.

Waaaaaaa

I'm having a "I want my Mommy" day. My mouth is in major pain, my hydrocodone is running out, my sinuses are feeling left out of the pain-game so they are doing all they can to get my attention, the laundry-fairies are on strike, I'm craving chicken...but it's not like I can eat it anyway, bitch and moan, bitch and moan...........more bitching and more moaning. I've had a very busy day, with all the bitching and moaning I'm worn out.

Scott is still on AI? What's up with that shit?!?!?! He sings like a cat in heat and has a domestic violence record to boot! He brings out my non-existant violent side.....I wanna wipe that smug look off his face. Preferably using concrete and steel-toed boots....that should do the job!

This pain is distracting me.....I'm outta here.

Gaping hole

This post won't make anyone hungry, promise!

I have been in a drug-induced haze since yesterday. By choice, I went to the dentist and had a tooth ripped outta my head. The tooth had been causing me lots of pain and I was done with its attention-seeking-ways. You cause me pain, you get ripped out.....pretty simple.

So, now I have a gaping whole in the top of my mouth....on the right side....3rd tooth from the back.....well, for me it was second tooth cuz I'd already had my wisdom tooth pulled a long time ago.....you really don't care about all this, do ya? Due to the wonders of pain-killing-drugs, I don't care, either. But when the meds wear off....then I'm caring!

The last tooth I had pulled (before this one) was abcessed.....the pain from having the tooth pulled didn't even faze me cuz the abcess had caused me to feel like my face was breaking. That was the absolute worse pain I have ever been in....even worse than appendicitis!! The point of me telling you about the abcessed tooth was that I knew that the pain from having this tooth pulled would be worse than when I had the abcessed tooth pulled cuz I wasn't in excruciating (GOD! I LOVE that word!!!) pain from the tooth. This post-pull pain is worse than the actual tooth pain was....but, the tooth pain was getting worse, it just had to go. All these words to say that I'm in pain.....sheesh.

I've slept all day today....and once I take more drugs, I'll be a sleeping blob for the rest of the night. Sleep, it's a good thing.

I'm done delaying my meds......I wanted to be conscious for at least a couple of hours today....I'm so over today.

Tomorrow: KFC buffet! yes, we're addicted. Chicken is a wonderfully soft meat....the greasier the softer it is.....my owie mouth loves soft right now!

If the mentioning of KFC made anyone's tumbly rumbly....sorry. I'm usually really good at keeping my promises.....I blame this lapse on the pain.

Hopefully, I'll be back to my wacky self tomorrow. I'm sure there's more that needs to be said about peeing and such wonders of my life!

Pee-pee Dance

If it wasn't for the pee-pee dance I'd get no exercise at all! Nothing's funnier than watching someone doing the pee-pee dance and trying to pretend that they aren't. "Yeah, I'm convinced, that's how you ALWAYS walk! You aren't fooling me!" Women can get pretty creative with their dance moves.....are you having an epileptic seizure that makes you look like you have cerebral palsy, or are you just really happy to be standing in line for the potty? Dancing to the beat of a piddly-drummer? Trust me, if it wasn't a huge faux pas there's been many a time that I would of just hiked my chubby-bubby-butt onto the sink and let the river flow.....

Men are lucky in this department, if there isn't a tree for them to water and they have to actually wait to pee.....a rubberband and some pocket pool and their problem is solved. Bastards! PLUS...more than one man can use a urinal at the same time....they probably don't enjoy sharing....BUT THEY COULD!!!!

Peeing has been on my mind a lot lately.....I should quit using the potty as my place to come up with ideas for posts. That makes sense.

Inquiring Minds.....

Rather than do any research online, I figured I'd just busy myself with digesting my yummy dinner and let others fill me in on something I've been wondering about. Ever have a question at the back of your mind and finally you MUST know the anwer??? No?? Just me? I do this ALL the time.

The nagging question: How do trains run? Electricity? Diesel? Invisible horses that you only see if you've known someone who died? Coal? If they run on fuel...where's the exhaust? I don't think they run on electricity....that would be subways, right?

We have trains that go by our neighborhood.....they are a couple of miles away...we hear the whistle as the trains go through intersections.....reminds us of Safeco Field and makes us feel happy inside. Happy that the train doesn't run by our house, like it does Safeco Field. (for those that may not know, Safeco Field is in Seattle, it's where the Mariner's play.)

So??? Who is gonna be my hero and put my mind at ease? If you have any nagging questions go ahead and ask me....I know a lot of shit...and some good stuff, too!

Chickens of the world, beware!

KFC buffet....God is good!

There's a rumbly in my tumbly that only The Colonel can silence. Oh, yeah....I'm one starvin' marvin! I will soon be elbow deep in chicken, deep fried zucchini, and anything else that doesn't outrun me.....KFC buffet...the best invention EVEEEERRRRRRR!!!

Over on the Dark Side

Holy Mother Pheasant Plucker! I'm in love! Dark peanut m&m's.....ohhhh baby! I've died and gone to the dark side....yummmmm! The dark side is the place for me. My pack has "Yellow Vader" saying, "Luke, I am your peanut"...oh yeah, with a sense of humor, too! Life is soooo good!

Can I just say that whoever it was that invented red licorice is a briliant genius?!?!?! Red Vines and Dark peanut M&M's......heaven, I'm in heaven! At least, until the sugar low bottoms me out and forces me to take a nap.....may the force be with you....all the way to bed!

Potty Post

Here are some laws that I know exist, even if they aren't in any lawbooks:

When I have to pee so bad that it's starting to squeeze through my chubby-bubby thighs...there will be an obstacle course for me to conquer before I can reach the bathroom. We're talking about an obstacle course that would break a Marine's spirit!

When I don't really have to pee, but I'm gonna go anyway....there will be absolutely nothing in my way....the path will be as clear as Gonzaga University's hallways during spring break.

When I need to run into a grocery store for one item....I will ALWAYS go in the door farthest from the item I need. Not because I planned it this way to get more exercise....oh no!....that's never on my mind....I'm running in for a necessity like chunky brownie fudgy ice cream....not exercise, please! I have my standards!

When in a humungous store and I realize that I need to pee NOW....I will be in the extreme opposite corner of the bathroom AND every slow-doddering-pokey-just-browsin'- gonna-hog-the-WHOLE-aisle-with-my-cart, -my-fat-ass and my retarded child WILL undoubtedly be in front of me!

When I read a hardcover book I take off the dustjacket, I'd rather have that look pristine than the book itself....I know, I'm a dork. Anyway....when picking up a hardcover book without it's dustjacket, I will ALWAYS end up holding it upside down.

The quicker you want someone to move the slower they will move. They are in direct proportion to each other. ALWAYS!!!

These truths I hold to be self-evident....I'm sure there are bunches more, but I really needed to pee so peeing was all I could think about as I was planning this post while going potty.

Sidenote: If anyone can explain to me what the hell Thoughts and Humor was saying in their comment on my Books, Books and more Books post I'd appreciate a translation. That comment made my brain cramp....where's the "Mindol?" Yes, I meant M-i-n-d-o-l!

Books, books, and more books

I LOVE books! Well, good books. Not just anything that calls itself a book. I have standards! We went to Value Village last night....can I just say that I LOVE THRIFT STORES???....so, walking towards VV's front door I spot the book section....I'm pretty sure it made me wet. There might have even been a little giddiness. There book section was pathetic....but, that didn't stop me from buying 5 books. VV is NOT my favorite thrift store, their furniture is dumpster-worthy and don't even get me started on their filthy disgusting bathroom! If you have to go potty while shopping at VV.....HOLD IT!!! Buy a bucket and use that....you don't wanna use VV's bathroom. I should have disenfected my ass when we got home.....

Back to books....a couple of days ago we came across a yard sale....I LOVE YARD SALES!!! Are you getting the impression that I love bargains, deals, sales, saving $? It's true! Anyway...a yard sale with books (interesting books, of course!) is enough to send me over the edge. I almost ran across the street....trust me, the richter scale would've registered it if I'd actually ran. We came home with over 20 books....I'm one very happy woman! Books are my favorite drug of choice. When I'm about to end a book and I don't have another one to start, I get grumpy and bitchy. I'm not happy to be around. Give me a good book and all is well in my world.

Don't bother telling me about the library....I'm not a library girl, I want to OWN the books I read. I'm one of those rare types that actually re-read my books. Remember: I read Lord of the Rings Trilogy 3 times in a year cuz I didn't have another good book to read! No, not 3 times in a row....there were stacks of books between each time.....

One bad thing about me is that I read fast....REALLY FAST!! So, it's hard to keep me stocked in books. Anyway, I gotta go get my butt pinched in the potty and then I'm gonna go read! YAY!!!

OH MY GOD!!! Get a load of this!!

I knew NOTHING about this before my blog about autism/artism....how cool is this??? I'm feeling little shivery....kind of deja vu'ee....I swear on a stack of leather bound Bibles with Christ's words in red, I'd never heard anyone else use "artism." It's true, there's nothing new under the sun. Why does that make me sad?

Blowin' Blogger Boogers

Constipated. That's how I felt today while Blogger was being a booger. It's a good thing it didn't last too long or else I'd be solidly impacted. Not pretty! There's been so much on my mind today.....my thought processes are what us white gals call screwy. Someone hip might refer to it as whack. Wacky would definitely fit, too.

Come up with your own adjective....this is what I had to work with:

• I've got some seriously crusty boogers way in the back of my nose.
• Microsoft has gone soft. They've decided that their evangelical customers are more valuable than their millions of gay customers. Now I don't feel so bad about "borrowing" their proggies.....not that I'm guilt-driven to begin with.
• Guilt is a useless emotion to me. Those that try to make me feel guilty over something are wasting their time. I don't have any room for guilt in my life.
• I really like the way this guy writes....I have a lot of catching up to do on Jabez's story.
• McD's has some of the best fries on the planet...saltier the better!
• My monitor is now the resting place for Sammy Ollie Phant...the cutest stuffed elephant EVER!
• Donkey has moved to the coffee table....for now...I found a pic of him on ebay....he's 22 inches tall and 22 inches long....he's a steed!
  

• I'm so happy that Rosie has her comments back on. How pathetic is that? Like she even reads them......if I had 100's of comments to read on every single post, I think I would limit the number of times I posted. I'm such a bloggin' whore that I love reading comments. Even comments on other blogs!
• We have a broken toilet seat....every time I go peeps I get my ass pinched, it's the most action I've had in awhile!
• Some commercials are such a waste of airtime. Just stupid, and not in the gonna-remember-it-and-buy-their-crap sorta way....just stupid. period.
• I wonder if Breathe Right strips would work on a cat?
• Taylor Dayne and that Gotti broad look alike.
• CSI: L.A.? I'm thinking so! I think CSI: Seattle should be in the near future, don't you? I'm still mad at an episode of CSI: Miami...it had to do with a supposed kidnapping and then finding a severed arm....it was an incredibly LAME storyline...I don't know which season...it just sucked! Jeff Corwin was on it, too. He didn't suck, just the storyline.

I think that's enough of my thoughts for one post, don't you? So, what's your adjective to describe the chaos in my head? Go ahead, I can take it.

Artistic Autism

It's my opinion that they need to change the name for autism. Maybe it's cuz I'm autistic, whenever I see the word it comes into my overly-stuffed brain as artism. I looked it up in my favorite online dictionary. For the record, there's no such word as artism...this is what I got:

Suggestions for artism:

  1. erotism
  2. artist
  3. artiest
  4. artsy
  5. autism <~~~~DO YOU SEE THAT????  Maybe I'm not artistic....I know, I meant autistic.
  6. aorist
  7. Artemis
  8. ariettas
  9. erotize
 10. eerieest
 11. artiste

Artism makes sense to me....it would be a great name for the Ministry of Artism....where tourists go to find out where they can see great (or not so great) art! This soooo works.

As far as autism goes....they need to change it to some name that can be shortened down to initials with some d's, p's, a's and maybe even a z! Z would be so cool! Trust me, I'll now be mulling over what autism's new name should be.........

I can't help but have odd thoughts right now....I have a huge stuffed Donkey on my monitor (the Steed/Stallion in Shrek I & II) and he has one heckuva shit-eating grin on his face. When we get our digital camera back, I'll be sharing his smile with the world. It's just too funny! It makes my heart giggle.

Amazing Race....burp!

I cannot eat and watch Amazing Race at the same time. I have this condition where if I'm watching something exciting and competitive then I'm convinced that if I eat faster it will somehow help my favorite team win.....I know, I have issues. Duh!

Tonight I was munching on a salad and by the time Meredith and Gretchen reached the mat I was pulverizing my food with the speed of a blender on puree! I had to swallow the salad soup before I could let out a WOO-FRICKIN'-HOO for M & G! I'm so happy for them! Their relationship is so wonderful to watch...even though Meredith did get a little snippy after the camel race. He's such a gentle spirit, even his snippiness was gentle.

SPOILER ALERT!! SPOILER ALERT!! SPOILER ALERT!! SPOILER ALERT!! SPOILER ALERT!!...don't continue reading if you don't wanna know which couple is more than likely the winner. Vegas quit taking bets cuz they suspect that folks with "inside information" were placing an an unreal number of bets on one couple....pretty safe to say this couple probably won....THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE!!! STOP READING NOW!!!

Rob & Amber (who got married on Saturday!!)

or Ron & Kelly??

If the bets were based on the show, as it stands now, I would think that more bets would be placed on Rob & Amber or Ron & Kelly. Those couples seem to be the most competitive.

But, neither of those couples were having bookoo bets placed on them....Nope! The bets were all for Uchenna & Joyce!

Watching Joyce have her head shaved was such an amazing experience. She was more beautiful without her hair....her beauty was not in her hair, but distracted by her hair. When they win her sacrifice will be so worth it!

The show just keeps getting better! Where's one of my zillions of scratch pads? I need to write myself a note, "NO EATING DURING THE AMAZING RACE!!!" My tummy hurts. *braaack* (That's a burp, just in case ya didn't get it.)

Bitch-Slapping Britney

Cranky? Me? What's it to you? Mind your business! I'm not a violent person. I'm, also, not the quiet person living next door that turns out to be a serial rapist/killer. I don't need violence....I "use my words." I'm not a name caller, nor do I yell crazy shit when I'm pissed. I'm more controlled when I'm angry than I am when I'm happy. It used to be if I was talking quietly, WATCH OUT!!!! Not that I was going to do anything crazy or violent....I was just gonna let you know in a very clear and concise manner EXACTLY what you said or did to bring on the Wrath of Kat. Today I'm feeling very cranky and maybe even a little violent. I just wanna bitch-slap the hell out of someone.....I'm thinking Britney Spears would be a good candidate. She needs some serious bitch-slapping! That girl is just stupid. S T O O P I D!!! No, she hasn't done anything new. She's just living her white trash life with her white trash wanna-be hip 'n' cool Johnny Appleseed....spreadin' his seed all over the dumpster!... Now she's been knocked up by Johnny and so she's chained to the loser for the REST OF HER LIFE!!! That to me is the epitome of stupidity! I just wanna slap some sense into her senseless head. She doesn't have the common sense God gave a goose!

See, it's easier for me to vent my frustrations on someone I've never met and will never meet than to deal with the shit pile that is my life. I'm usually a pretty even keeled positive person. I don't get my knickers in a knot very easily. But, when the shit gets too high for me to see over it.......I want to bitch-slap Britney! It makes sense in my head.

Where are my happy pills? Wonder if you can o.d. on peanut m&m's?

Truth, Maxine Style

Cussing, Steaming, Venting, Blowing

Here's the situation: We (Butchy & I) are renting a house with 2 guys. Jerry lives upstairs and Butchy & I have our bedroom downstairs in the basement. Our "neighbor" downstairs is Leland (the roommate from hell!) he's the one that refuses to clean up after himself. Jerry rents the house from his friend Rick...the arrangement is that Jerry pays all the utilities & cable, etc....Leland and us pays the rent. This is a pretty sweet deal for Jerry....he has all his stuff moved into the kitchen, living room, 3 bedrooms and his very own bathroom.....he pays less than $400 a month! Butchy and I have most of our stuff in a storage unit...we have a very small cramped bedroom and have taken over some space in the basement. The original agreement is that we would SHARE the house....yeah, our definition of share and Jerry's is very different. He has "given" us 2 whole drawers in the kitchen. That's it! Our definition of sharing would mean that we have our stuff in the kitchen along with his stuff. Nope! And we get this great deal for $400 a month! Oh! And don't forget the bathroom in the basement that 3 of us are sharing!!....and one of those 3 (Leland) has a penchant for peeing all over the place and refuses to clean it up. Don't we just have the best living situation EVER!!! GRRRRRR Sometimes I really wish that I was a cussing woman!

Anyway...here's the newest frustration on top of a whole bunch of old ones.....Jerry is having a dinner party tomorrow night. We are guessing at this because he hasn't actually said anything to us about it. There's tables all over the living room and kitchen/dining room area. If it were us planning a party, we'd have the courtesy to let the guys know about it....just in case they had plans to use the kitchen/dining room or livingroom. I guess we're only sharing the rent, not the house. What a stinky pot-o'-crap! Our crappy situation just keeps getting crappier!

Update: We recently found out that Jerry is paying about $250!!! WTF???? We are sooo being screwed!!!

The Invitation

The Migraine From Hell is fading off into the sunset.....only dealing with its' aftershocks now. Today has been a philosophical-spriritual-analytical-quiet-kind-of-day. I found a great site to visit on just that kind of day! I've loved The Invitation for ages.....now I'll take the opportunity to share it with all my blogging friends. The author, Oriah Mountain Dreamer, has the coolest name...EVER!! Wonder if she was named Gertrude Gerkunkle by her parents and then had it changed? However she came to have that name all I can say is that it ROCKS....in a kind of poetic-philosophical-spiritual-analytical-quiet-kind-of-way.

The Invitation

Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for,
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love,
for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow,
if you have been opened by life's betrayals
or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain,
mine or your own,
without moving to
hide it,
fade it or
fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy,
mine or your own,
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us to be careful,
to be realistic,
to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself;
if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and
not betray your own soul;
if you can be faithless and
therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty,
even when it's not pretty, every day,
and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure,
yours or mine,
and still stand on the edge of the lake and
shout to the silver of the full moon,
"Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up,
after the night of grief and despair,
weary and bruised to the bone,
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or
how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and
not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you,
from the inside,
when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.

Migraines, toothaches & hydrocodone....OH MY!!

My body hates me....well, at least the part of my body that is above the neck. As if a migraine wasn't enough, we now have a mind-numbing toothache. Off with my head!....I can only hope. To the upper management of my body I say, "You're fired!" It's time to bring in some new management..... If it wasn't for hydrocodone I'd be a messier mess than I already am! Therefore, another trip into the past:

Here's Verbose Verbiage, originally posted on Feb 19th:

I feel the need to confess to something. I love words. It's not that I love to talk, that's just something I'm really good at. Words are art to me. There are a zillion ways to say the same thing. In art there are a zillion ways to portray the same topic. Words truly are art.

The way some words feel in my mouth......funny, but it's hard to explain in words! Words are like that, sometimes they are very limited as well as being limiting. Then there are those words that fit like my snuggle. (My flannel warm snuggly blanket that I made all by myself.) Words are similar to art in that they are used to express emotions. There are those words that bring about intense emotion....whether the emotion be love, sadness, joy or hate, anger, frustration....words are there through it all. They can lift you up to unbelievable heights or rip you to jagged shreds. I would rather be beaten with a fist than shredded with cruel words. I have experienced both. The recovery from fists is quite a bit faster than the recovery from someone's horrid torrent of cruelty. Both destroy your trust, but it's easier to deflect a fist than it is to deflect a sharply honed word designed to eviscerate you.

On the other end of the spectrum are those words that build you up. Words that cause you to feel like you can conquer the world. Words that give you hope. We all know about the words that cause you to feel loved and cherished. Spoken by that one person ...your heart breaks into song. Which is much preferred to breaking into pieces.

All this verbiage came about from watching Inside the Actor's Studio and Kiefer Sutherland used the word visceral and I thought, "that's one of those words that feels good in my mouth." It didn't matter what the word meant...just how it felt in my mouth. So, I was going to write about those words that I love to say. But, instead I ended up heading in a different direction. What a surprise. I make myself tired.

Verbose: containing more words than necessary
Verbiage: a profusion of words usually of little or obscure content
Simply....too many damn words! Time to shut the hell up! Is it nap time?

NOT a migraine cure....

This may not cause you to have a migraine....more like severe indigestion....but, since I'm still dealing with all the wonders of a migraine this news just didn't help. Now I have a migraine and indigestion. "Kev" has succeeded in impregnating his ticket to fame, fortune, and a lifelong subscription to Trailer Park Trash. I can't imagine how Brit's mom feels about all this.....I bet that she's seriously regretting sticking her nose in Brit's first marriage with good-boy Jason Alexander......Jason vs Kev is like saying small-town-boy vs trailer-park-stud. (I use the word "stud" very loosely.)

BS....aka: Britney Spears....she makes my head shake. That girl just ain't right. She will learn that you can't buy class....not that she really cares.....light up another cigarette, you wouldn't want your baby to be born without a nicotine habit. After hearing all the stories about how BS & her Gigolo let their dogs poop all over their house, makes me wonder if they will be diapering their spawn or just have the nanny (you know there will be nannies in this kid's life, probably oodles of them until they can find one that knows how to speak Trailer Trash) follow Giggy-Bob around with a pooper scooper. I'm already feeling sorry for the poor kid.

Another visit into my past....

This was originally posted on Feb 3rd....since we spent 4 hours at W*M Supercenter last night, it seems fitting to repost this. My head is doing better, but still not 100%. Thanks for all the warm wishes and creative advice! I'll be back posting original deep thoughts and petty crap soon!

Wally World Activities
It makes my day when I read an e-mail that cracks me up. One of my absolute favorite exercises is laughing. *When ya got a body like mine, laughing is quite the work-out!* These e-mails are much better than the ones that want to increase the size of my penis! Those penis extender ads cause me to wonder where the ads are for tightening up a woman's.... well....you know....I don't think I'll continue down that rabbit trail!

Here's the one that cracked me up in Feb:

15 Things To Do At Wal-Mart
While Your Spouse Is Taking
Their Sweet Time

1. Get 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in people's carts when they aren't looking.

2. Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5-minute intervals.

3. Make a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the rest rooms.

4. Walk up to an employee and tell them "Code 3 in Housewares" and see what they do.

5. Go the Service Desk and ask to put a bag of M&M's on lay away.

6. Move a 'CAUTION - WET FLOOR' sign to a carpeted area.

7. Set up a tent in the camping department and tell other shoppers you'll invite them in if they'll bring pillows from the bedding department.

8. When a clerk asks if they can help you, begin to cry and ask, "Why can't you people just leave me alone?"

9. Look right into the security camera; use it as a mirror, and pick your nose.

10. While handling guns in the hunting department, ask the clerk if he knows where the antidepressants are.

11. Dart around the store suspiciously loudly humming the "Mission Impossible" theme.

12. In the auto department, practice your "Madonna look" using different size funnels.

13. Hide in a clothing rack and when people browse through, say "PICK ME!"

14. When an announcement comes over the loud speaker, assume the fetal position and scream "NO! NO! It's those voices again!!"

15. Go into a fitting room, shut the door and wait a while; and then yell, very loudly,
"There is no toilet paper in here!"

Another visit to the Archives.*cough* *cough*

This was previously posted on Feb 8th, I'm still dealing with the migraine....gonna try the salsa idea!

No Fat, No Support
I'm fat. Yep, I'm fat in all the right spots. I'm also fat in all the wrong spots, but I figure it all evens out in the wash. *What the heck is that supposed to mean?* Being fat is a great Stupid Detector. We all need a good user-friendly Stupid Detector. For a small fee, you may rent me for "stupid detecting purposes ONLY!" My being fat is perfection, I never have to wonder who the stupid people are in any crowd. They pipe right up and declare, "I'm the stupid person! Me, Me, Me!!" What they think they're saying is something derogatory about my weight...but I just feel gratitude for their comment, I no longer have to wonder who the stupid person/people is/are.
Regarding stupid people: Why is it that stupid people feel the urgent need to only state the obvious? I know for a fact that if a person is fat, they are aware of it! I didn't go to sleep one night with a perfect size 6 body and wake up with the perfect size 6 times 5 body that I have now. I can't begin to tell you how many times I've heard a stupid person say, "You're fat!" ok. and? Do they walk up to the blind and declare that the person is blind? Do they approach beautiful women and state the fact that they are gorgeous? Well, actually that wouldn't be stupid, more on the order of a great pick-up line.....but if the hot woman just happened to be holding a blind-fat-E.T. looking-baby, would they bring that to the hottie's attention? Probably, if they were a genuine stupid person! There's so much more to say about stupid people, I'll just have to pace myself and restrain myself from posting it all at once. So, that's it.......for now.

It has become clear that losing weight would bring about many disadvantages. It's now necessary to weigh the advantages against the disadvantages. To make this decision I need some lightly buttered popcorn, chocolate w/almonds and some Diet Lemon Lime Twist Up.

Disadvantage #1:
My boobs would end up tucked into my socks. The belly supports the boobies. No belly no booby support! That sounds pretty serious to me!

#2:
Chubby-bubby thighs are wonderful when ya really gotta pee. I don't have to rely on muscle control alone, holding my thighs together keeps me accident-free. There's just no room for nothin' between those bubbies!

3#:
I can sit on concrete longer than Mary-Kate can without having holes bored into my bum from my bumbones. This talent is used primarily at parades, I've kicked my habit of sitting in traffic impersonating a speedbump.

#4:
Bulldozing my way through a crowd clears a path like Moses at the Red Sea. Old women and children beware!

#5:
Noone tries to prove their masculinity by lifting me over their head. They know that this would only prove their ability to get a hernia if they even attempted it!

#6:
The whole Stupid Detector thing mentioned in above.

#7:
My clothes can be used as housing for a small, as in thin, family of 3. Maybe this is an advantage for losing weight......need more chocolate to think about this.

#8:
Standing next to me causes thin women to look even thinner!

I'm sure there's more, I'm in a sugar low now......where's my chocolate stash?

Leftovers

I was reading through some of my old posts....posts that only 2 people have read, and I'm one of those 2! Since I'm still dealing with a migraine....here's a rerun:...or would that be a repost? Anyway, here's a sumthin':

A thought just slammed into my head. I took some naproxen for the pain and now I must share the truth I have been given.
The CIA has their fingers in numerous pies. *I'm not a pie person. Not at all....I just scrape out the innards and leave the crust.*
ANYWAY....someday these rabbit trails are gonna be the death of me!
ANYWAY Part 2: The CIA has taken control of the After Life. You're probably wondering how I know this to be true. How I can make such a declarative statement about a club that I have never been a member of....it's all in the evidence. Let's follow the evidence, shall we?
1) The CIA is shrouded in mystery---so is the After Life!
That's not all my proof, keep reading Mr. Skeptical Pants....
2)People who join the CIA can't even tell their own families where they are and what they are doing ---same way in the After Life, once your spirit vacates your body you can't go back. It's not a round-trip flight, unless you are one of the very few chosen to have an After Life experience...then you get a movie on your flight home. *No, there's no popcorn or peanuts to go with the movie! Sheesh!* Some mistake the movie for their life passing in front of their eyes or a bright light.....it is actually a movie of your life it's shown to those that are going to spend their eternity in line at the DMV. (A place we on earth call Hell.)
Let's move on to more evidence:
3) You have to jump through numerous hoops to join the CIA---well, actually joining the After Life is a much simpler process and for some a lot less painful! Joining the After Life does require a commitment, though.
I'm still not done presenting the evidence...now sit down and be quiet or else you're going to be spending some quality time in purgatory, young man!!

4) C.I.A., do we really know what those letters mean? We know what they want us to think it means. I submit for your enjoyment and your ponderances that the real meaning is:

Controlling
OmnIsciently
in the
After Life

(Omniscient: possessed of universal or complete knowledge)

Now I know you're thinking, "Wait one gosh darn minute here! Wouldn't it be called the C.O.I.T.A.L. then?"
Do you realize what you just spelled? Look up coital in the dictionary; actually let me do it for you! According to the geniuses at Merriam-Webster coital is the adjective for coitus, which means, and I quote, "physical union of male and female genitalia accompanied by rhythmic movements usually leading to....."WHOA!! We know good and well what that leads to. *Satisfied men and another mess for women to clean up!!*
So basically coital means screwing/screwed/screwly? *Screwly, tell me that shouldn't be a "real" word! He looked at her screwly before she kicked him in the groin!* Americans are well-known for discussing how the governement is screwing us.....I'm not going to spoon feed this to you! You have to do some thinking of your own here! Just remember the "CIA," or whatever their REAL name is, is all about secrets. Would it really be unheard of for them to hide their REAL name from the American people?

I can sense that you are still not convinced. Even with all this evidence staring you in the face, you have doubts. Ok...here's some evidence that will seal the deal for you:
5) To communicate the CIA uses codes---when those in the After Life are permitted to speak they are only permitted to use codes!!!
Work with me here. When a psychic is doing a reading do they ever say, "Granny Fanny says 'hi" and that she left all her most valuable jewelry in the false bottom of her panty drawer?" Nope....all ya get from Granny Fanny is "jeweled panties" and a bunch of letters from the alphabet that when strung together spell out liozgrrlnzop...not a lot to work with there. Or a number that when all is said and done turns out to be the number of teeth Granny had.
The other night we were watching Psychic Detectives, that's what got me to thinking about this. I wondered aloud, "why do people from the After Life speak in code? Why don't they just spill the beans?" When a woman, who has been brutally killed, contacts a psychic why can't she just tell the psychic, "My no good husband shot me and buried my bloody carcass under the new hot tub he's putting in for him and his skanky whore. He melted the gun down and turned it into a doorknob for the new door he had to install in the bathroom after blowing my brains all over the old one!"???? Instead the only information that is passed on to the psychic (after intense scrutiny by the COITAL censors) is, "hot water, brainy whore." Tell me that isn't a code!!

All the evidence is very clear about who's in control of the After Life. Whether you believe me, or not, doesn't really matter......when you see that bright light, just sit back relax and hope you aren't about to see a movie!

Going against the migraine

Migraine, yourgraine, we all have migraines!

The sounds from my keyboard may be more than I can handle......but, I will try to persevere. No reason other than to block out the other noises going on around me right now. Why is it that when a gal has a migraine the loudest food on the planet (Cheetos) is the only choice for her girlfriend? The pouring the Cheetos of out of the bag and onto the paper plate was quiet compared to the chewing and chomping of the little orange bastards! Death to Cheetos! Quietly, though.

Be vewy vewy qwiet.....Kat's got a migraine and will kill you with daggers from her pain-filled eyes.

Even Lily-Kid is hating Mama at the moment.....she's got to be the loudest feline on planet Earth. This is not anything new....she's always been the noisiest (and nosey'est) one in the family. The sounds she makes while drinking water sounds like 3 2-year olds splashing enthusiastically in a bathtub full of pissy-water (as far as I'm concerned...ALL 2 year olds piss in their bath water!).

The keyboard is not drowning out the mastication of the Cheetos....sounds like a great name for an opera. I'm going to go to bed, bury my head in my pillow, turn on my much needed fan and call this migraine-filled day OVER!! I think that's a much quieter plan than beating my gf to an orange-pulp.

Wonder if I can sue Cheetos for being so horrendously loud!

It would be funny if it wasn't so true!

Red, white, & black & blue all over

I was just posting a comment on Kim's blog. It stirred up such a mess of toxic emotions that I must vent the crap out of me and into the universe. It's just too much to hold in. Beware.....I'm about to blow!

In 2001 I ended a 4-year abusive relationship. During those 4 years (& 10 days) I received multiple bruises from his fists, boots and even his head. Of course, his mouth did the absolute worst damage. When you constantly hear that you're a fat cow....you kind of expect that you're going to start moo'ing anytime. C is a pathological liar. (I'm not using his initial to protect him he's not innocent! I'm using it simply because I don't want to type his name, let alone look at it.) No, he has not been professionally diagnosed....he wouldn't tell the truth about it if he had! He lied about EVERYTHING. He'd come home from work and I'd ask him if he put gas in the car, so I would know if I needed to leave for my graveyard shift a little early to get gas. He would say he filled the tank. I get in the car to go to work and the tank is parched and gasping. This is just one of a zillion examples of his love for storytelling. I detest lies. There are not enough words in the English dictionary to explain how much I hate being lied to. "Don't tell me what you think I want to hear, tell me the truth!" The number of times I uttered that sentence is in the gazillions.

We'd been living together for a couple of months when I began to realize that he was an alcoholic. I'd never been in a relationship with an alky before; this was something completely foreign to me. You'd have thought that when he pissed on my couch I might have clued in. He had fallen asleep on the couch watching a movie.....he told me it wasn't piss, it was Mountain Dew...since when does MT Dew smell like alky-piss? I let him know then that I knew it wasn't Mt Dew and that he'd be cleaning the mess up. I figured this was a one-time occurrence. Yeah, I'm runner-up for Queen of Denial. I don't know if I was in true denial at this time.....it could be that I had never encountered this type of behavior....but, after the 2nd time he wet the bed......the denial was soooooo over! We swiftly started sleeping in separate beds. I should have kicked his pissin' ass out the door and slept in separate zip codes! But....no. For some unfathomable reason, I stayed...for 4 years & 10 days.

Years before our relationship I was on staff at a homeless & abused women's shelter. That's right, I was the one that picked gravel out of a gal's face with tweezers after her hubby had ground her face into their gravel driveway with his steel-toed boots. 3 days later she went back to him. I swore that I would never be in an abusive relationship! Not me! I was a strong, independent, intelligent woman, any man try to hit me I was gonna knock him flat on his ass and stomp his balls into the concrete. There was no doubt in my mind.

Something that I didn't understand was that the abuse doesn't happen on the first date. It doesn't happen in the first month. It doesn't happen until you are emotionally & financially invested in the relationship and will do all you can to make it work. That’s when you have the fight where he shoves you up against your dresser. You’re in shock….did he just shove me? Did he do it on purpose? Maybe the fact that he lunged across the bed and body slammed me should have been a clue that he meant to cause me pain. The shock was overwhelming. It was beyond my imagination that someone would intentionally hurt someone they claimed to love.

This isn’t something I was raised with. My parents never touched each other, or my brother & I, in anger. Touching was always affectionate & loving. My brother and I got spanked and our faces slapped….but, it wasn’t done to vent anger. This was the type of child discipline that my parents were taught; it was their duty as parents, according to the Bible. “Spare the rod, spoil the child.”

Sitting on the edge of my bed I was too shocked to even cry. It completely boggled me. It’s probably the same reaction you would have if you woke up one day and everything you thought to be true about your lover was all a lie. He/She was suddenly someone that you can’t even recognize. My mind froze. The pause button was pressed. Time stopped. Forming a coherent thought was beyond my capabilities.

When the ability to form thoughts returned questions invaded my mind: “Who gave him the right to shove me? Where did he get the idea that this was an acceptable way to express anger? Who the hell does he think he is? Where does he get off pulling a stunt like that?”

My memory has blocked out some of the crap I allowed the sick loser to put me through. How I stayed alive for 4 years & 10 days is beyond me. His sickness became my sickness. I knew that he was a liar, yet I believed him when he called me a fat cow. He was huge in my mind. He was going to kill me; this was not something I doubted. My hope was that he would do it quickly and painlessly. My self-esteem was ground into dust.

C’s list of favorite attacks included:

• Running up behind me and slamming his head into the middle of my back sending me headfirst into walls, doors, counters, etc. (he would then say that it was my own fault that I fell).
• Throwing anything in his hand at my head (lighters, empty beer bottles…he’d never waste beer by throwing a full one!, whatever was handy……thrown as hard as he could. If it was something that had a lot of sentimental value for me & would break when it hit my head, bonus!), one time he threw his mountain bike at me as I was running down the stairs.
• Shoving me onto the bed, from behind of course, and forcing my head down into my pillow so that I wasn’t able to breathe.
• Ramming his fist as hard as he could into my thigh.
• Spitting in my face.

There were other modes of venting on his menu of favorites, but I think you get the idea.

In my insanity, I had decided that if he ever hit me in the face I would call the cops. 4^th of July 1998, early morning hours: he wet the bed we were both sleeping in. I had the audacity to wake his drunk-ass up and attempt to make him change the sheets. While I was in the potty he got comfy in his own dry bed….I wasn’t gonna put up with that. Using the decibels God gave me I let him know that he was going to change the sheets….or else listen to my God-given decibels for the rest of the night. He started getting up, so I turned and walked down the hall to my room. Coming up behind me he said my name and as I turned towards him his fist became one with my jaw. That was it. I called the cops.

By the time the cops had arrived we were both sitting on the front steps and I was feeling sorry for poor misunderstood C. (this makes me gag just thinking about it!) He told the cops what he did and they took him away in handcuffs.

When he got out of jail on the 6^th or 7^th of July, I was there waiting for him. Even with a restraining order issued by the judge against him having any contact with me…. yep, I was there to take my man home. (Excuse me while I hurl!) He was very well behaved over the next 90 days….that restraining order was a good thing.

No sooner did the restraining order expire and he was up to his old tricks. But, things had changed in me. I wasn’t going to be his punching, shoving, kicking bag anymore. At least, not without getting some of my own licks in!

He made the mistake of giving me the Tae-bo tapes as a gift. When he’d get into one of his “moods” he started feeling the wrath of Kat. Kahn has nothing on me! My legs have carried my fat ass around for many years…these girls have some serious strength in them! I’d hear him charging up behind me, next thing he knew he was flat on his ass with my size 8½ boring into his chest! That only made him angrier. That’s when I’d head over to the neighbor’s apartment. That’s right, we were living in an apartment. Everyone and their dog got to enjoy our matches. One particularly bad night I was banging on J’s (he is innocent!) door while C was pounding his fists into my back and the backs of my legs. J opened the door and I threw him my cell phone and asked him to call the police. It’s not clear to me why he didn’t. C took off out the front door of the apt building while J & I went into his apt and locked his door. If I remember right, he made a comment about how I needed to call the police myself. (Ok, quick lesson: if you see a woman being abused and she asks you to call the police…DO IT!!! J is innocent, but he's also an idiot!) I never did call them. Your guess is as good as mine when it comes to why I didn’t.

2001 I ran into someone I had met 2 years before. This person was my hero. She saved me from the monster. In front of her he became the little cowardly boy that he had always been. He shrank right in front of us. He was scared of her! He knew that I was leaving him and that I had shared my horror story with her. I finally saw him as the nothing that he had been the whole time. I was free.

I left one bad relationship and started another one. Knowing about the relationship I was escaping, promises were made that I would never be afraid of her. She would never treat me the way that he did. She would never say such horrid things to me. She would never lay a hand on me in anger. I would be safe with her. I could heal with her. I could trust her to take care of me. She would cherish me like the Pryncess I wanted to be.

Promises are made to be shattered…. maybe that’s my heart. My head is pounding; I’ll continue this saga when I can hear my thoughts over the jackhammer between my ears.

Ms. Pope, if you're nasty!

In Catholicism they place a lot of attention on the virgin Mary, right? I'm in no way, shape, or form an expert on Catholicism....I had to use Merriam-Webster to make sure I was spelling it right! But, here's what I'm pondering right now.....why can't a woman be Pope? It can't be that difficult to find a sexless Mother of whatever to perform that duty. We never hear about nuns molesting kids...it's always the "celibate" priests. If a priest has sex with a child....especially a young boy...then it's not sex according to the catholic rules and regulations, right? When found out they're just moved to another town with a whole new fresh supply of young'uns. I wonder if priests compare notes and fill the new priest in on who's hot and who's not? Anyway....I've never heard of a situation where a nun did anything more than hit a kid with a ruler....have you?

Therefore, I nominate Mother Theresa for pope. Uhmmm...wait a second....she's already hanging out with the big G, isn't she. Then I nominate a non-dead Mother somebody for Pope! Trust me, if a woman was Pope...there wouldn't be any slaps with a ruler for molesting-scum-sucking-doomed-for-the-pits-of-hell priests....oh, no....a Mother would make sure they are totally messed up! She'd send out the Nun Brigade to write hurt all over those losers. They wouldn't be able to sit...let alone piss...EVER!! Things would be cut off, in the name Mother Mary full of grace! You don't mess with the kids of God....not when Mother Rambo is on the papal throne!

Too bad Mother Theresa is dead....I can just see her kicking asses all over the place!

Love makes the world get round

Newsflash! Newsflash! Newsflash!

I'm head-over-heels-in-love! I know that this love will last a lifetime. He will never betray me...yes, I said HE...and here you all thought I was gay, right? Well...I am gay...but, I'm in love with a he....as in: his, him, etc. He's all boy. I've actually been crazy about this guy since I was little. Oh, just to touch him....I had such longings as a child. He was my idol. If I could have found a poster that was just of him in all his glory....I would have plastered my room with his sweet smiling face. His blue eyes have melted me for years.

What brought on this new wave of love for an old love? I ran into him at the grocery store. BAM!! I was smitten all over again. The old feelings have never truly gone away. Old love has become new love....all is well in the world. I want to share my love with the world.....here he is in all his blue-eyed sweetness.........

This is what I ran into at the grocery store....just so you know how obsessed I am with this boy...I hate frosting! But, I had to have him....both flavors of him! Vanilla and chocolate....just cuz they are part of him.

Oh, yeah. It's all about the Pillsbury Doughboy!

Pussy Snores, Violent Dreams & Prescription Subscription

I had a thought of something I wanted to post.....then a 55 year old fat man laying on the back of our couch started snoring so loud the thought got scared off. Ok, there isn't actually an old fat man laying on the back of our couch....it's just little Lily-Kid....man o' livin' she snores like an old fat man with a cold! I'm going to figure out a way to record her so that everyone can enjoy her as much as we do. Add to that her horrible breath....good thing she's cute! She's now dreaming and beating the back of my head with her back paws as she's chasing bunnies through her dream. Hair by Lily. Oh, joy.

Procrastination: that's my keyword for today. My prescription is ready at the pharmacy. I don't wanna go pick it up. The pharmacy I use for most of my meds is in a low income clinic....it's really inexpensive. But.....and it's a big but!...you have to walk through the whole waiting area to get to the pharmacy. My issue with that is I'm healthy, finally....those waiting to see the doctors are not. I don't want to get sick cuz some no-manners-sick-person doesn't cover their mouth when they cough! How gross is that? I was raised to cover my mouth when I coughed, sneezed and even yawned....only cuz when you yawn your face contorts itself in such a way that you look like Jessica Simpson trying to reach those top notes. It's just not pretty! In fact, it looks like you are in agonizing pain. Pain doesn't look good on anyone.

Am I the only person who has to stop and think if I'm picking up a prescription or a subscription? Wonder if a Dr has ever given out a prescription for a subscription? See how twisted my mind is? These are things that I will ponder for minutes at a time until I come up with a scenario that fits.........such as, a Dr prescribing a subscription to Reader's Digest cuz the patient needs Laughter the Best Medicine. Or, whatever.....I'm over this thought now.

Meandering Ponderings

nnnnnnnnhhhhhhnn....probably shouldn't try to clean my keyboard when I'm about to post.....I should write that down. Great, now I have a toothache. Need to take Aleve.....ok...now I'm "Aleve'd"....still in pain......I can feel my heartbeat in my tooth.....the beat goes on.....so does the pain......::hearing Final Jeopardy theme song in my head::.........pain, pain, go away.....I want my Mommy.........is it immature for a 38 year old to want her Mommy when she's in pain?....who cares! I WANT MY MOMMY!!! Ok.... breathing in....out....in.....

Speaking of my Mom.....

The setting: Mom's office at Warner Pacific College
The city: Portland, OR
The year: 1968 or '69
The characters:
Mom: played by my 26-27 year old Mom
Kid: played by me at 2 or 3 yrs old...dark brown hair, blue eyes. very white
Guy: tall black male...but, then he could have been 4 ft tall and at 2 or 3 yrs old I would have thought he was a giant.....no clue as to his name or his purpose for being in my Mom's office......

The scene: Action!
Guy: walks into Mom's office.
Before he can utter a word,
Kid: enthusiastically states:
"You're black!"
Mom: gasps! Her heart stops, she's holding her breath and her hands to keep from smacking Kid upside her head.
Guy: "Why yes, I am. And what color are you?"
Kid: "I'm blue!"
Mom: exhales....and decides to let Kid live another day.
Cut! That's a wrap!

Toothache relieved by Aleve.....bit of trivia: my Dad officiated at the funeral service for the guy who invented Aleve....hope he didn't die from using it! I should check into that.....I'll write that down, too.........

Chocolate milk...it's the good life

Life is good. I have a chocolate milk mustache, I'm a happy girl. It doesn't take much to make me happy. Chocolate milk, Costco's chocolate covered almonds, Diet Dr. Pepper, microwave light butter popcorn....it's all good. Add to that a good book that I'm only 1/4 of my way into.....I'm ecstatic! It doesn't take much at all to please me.....my girlfriend gave me a little spiral notebook awhile back...she knows the way to my heart is through pens, paper, and the stuff listed above. I love my little notebook! I have more paper, spiral notebooks and pens than W*M!! I could easily stock my own paper supply store, but that would mean being willing to sell my treasures, and that just ain't gonna happen!

I should frame blank pieces of paper. Nothing is more exciting to me than the possibilities that a blank piece of paper present to me. I could use it to make a card, write a love letter, write a nasty "you suck" letter, begin The Great American Novel, write a song, write a list (I LOVE lists, too!) it has infinite possibilities! Paper's only limits are the limits I place on it.

I'm in a happy place right now. For the first time in over a year I'm finally feeling human. My sinus infection is basically cleared up, I'm pretty much over the nasty flu-bug, my voice is almost 100%, life is good! I've been euphoric....didn't realize how sick I was until now as I look back....I feel like I lost a year. 2005 is gonna be fabulous!!

Clinton Died in my Dream

So, there I was sleeping away and next thing ya know I'm dreaming that Clinton died. Yes, the former President of the United States of America Billy-Bob-love-my-cigars!-sex?-what's-that? Clinton. I was really torn up about it in my dream. I was crying up a storm.....you would of thunk it was someone I actually knew and cared about that had died. But, nope, just ol' Billy Bob.

Wonder if I should take the time to analyze this dream. Nah, I've spent enough time on it just posting it here. That's about enough out of ol' Billy Bob!

May you rest in painless peace.