Monday, February 28, 2005

Who stole my weekend!!!

So last week was "Winter Break" for the kids in our fine county. What the hell is "Winter Break"? Like we're all rich and can afford to go to Aspen to ski with Bunny and Biff for the week?

Luckily for me, all my little angels have different daddies (as before you get any ideas and start calling me harlot, different mommies too!) so the older 2 decided to take off to spend the week with their worthless, ain't got real jobs, daddies. (Not that I am judging or anything!) So big boy ran off on Tuesday, right after I told him that I expected him to vacuum and dust the entire house, and right before he actually did it! And big girl took off on Thursday afternoon, AFTER she had completed her chores for the week. (GOOD GIRL!)

So that left us with the little one (8 yrs old) to entertain. Unfortunately, her daddy lives at our house (as my hapless Hubby!), and her mother in mostly invisible so she got stuck with us, the old farts, for the remainder of the week! Well, we didn't have any means of babysitters (what with our indentured servants on vacation with their daddies) so Hubby had to take little one to college with him one day. (Daddy had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb..) Well, she absolutely loved it!!! And she even knew the answer to one of the questions that the teacher threw out to the class. So now she's all hard core to finish up with 3rd grade as quick as possible so she's can get one grade closer to college!!

We had a nice, boring time this weekend. I took little one and one of her girlfriends to see the "On Account of Winn Dixie" movie. I highly recommend it if you have a child 5th grade and under.

Nothing else much happened except the husband was sick with a cold all weekend, and he turns every little illness into a major production. So it was entertaining to watch him dramatize about his latest "near death" experience.

One funny note, he was walking out of the bathroom and as I walked by, so I yelled out, "Boo!" He grabbed his heart and leaned into the doorway, and looked like he was going to pass out on the spot. This kinda made me nervous knowing that he's suppose to be the big brave strong one, in case an intruder ever broke into the house!

Friday, February 25, 2005

Pope a licious!!

Is it just me, or have you also noticed that the Pope never takes a vacation.!Now I am not a Cath-o-lick or anything, but I do go to church. My Pastor is from Arkansas, and once a year we pack him and the family up and send them home for a little R & R. Our Pastor is also into fishing and scuba diving (not very preacherly! but he is) so we also like to send him to the water once a year to do a little fishing and diving. Then the Pastor comes back after a week, refreshed and loaded down with pictures of all the fun he and the wife had during their little vacation. We (the church) loves when the pastor comes back from vacation, cause he's all smiles, and he has about a million great stories to tell in church. Not just any story mind you, as our Pastor is a master "yarn weaver". We love his stories because he manages to weave the Word into every day life for us, and we see how to apply Faith into our everyday lives.

But have you ever noticed..... that the Pope NEVER takes a vacation?!? Have you ever seen a picture of the Pope in swim trunks, setting on the beach, holding a Daiquiri? Nope. Bet not. Have you ever seen the Pope fishing? Scuba Diving? Riding a horse, wearing chaps? Nope!! See Cath-o-lick People, that's why your Pope is sick. That's why your Pope has been bitching about your lack of faith for the last 30 years! That's why he always looks like he just sucked on a lemon. That's why he's in the hospital AGAIN! Because you guys NEVER EVER give him a vacation.

Here's a suggestion, book him in a Sandal's Resort on some island IMMEDIATELY. Or better yet, get him on the next Disney Cruise leaving Cape Canaveral!! Or, how about a week at a Dude ranch! (Ofcourse, you'll have to get him outta that dress and into some Levis.)

I feel really bad for the poor Pope, he's older than dirt, and he's still working!! What is he, like in his 80's?!? For heavens sakes, leave the poor man alone, and let him retire! I think that being a Pope is alot like joining a Gang. You get jumped in, and if you survive, then you're in the 'Pope gang' until you die. That kinda sucks. Take the Pope before this one for instance. He got jumped in and died like a month later. I can just imagine all those Cardinals with the last Pope laying on the floor, while they kicked the crap outta of the poor guy screaming, "You talking to me? I know you ain't talking to me?!?!" That's what really happened to the Pope before this one.

And anyway, don't you think that the the name John Paul is just about wore out! I say it's time for a Pope Steve, or a Pope Ryan, or how about a Pope Justin!?! How are we suppose to keep up with them all, if they all have the same first and last names? Hey, that's probably why the poor guy can't take a vacation. Can you imagine trying to book the Pope into a hotel?

"Hello and thank you for calling Holiday Inn, how can I help you?"

"Yes, I am calling from the Vatican and I'd like to make a reservation."

"OK, sir what name would you like to book that under."

"Last name John Paul, first name Pope."

"Don't you mean first name John Paul and last name Pope."

"No, last name John Paul, first name Pope."

"Ok, sir let me see if I have this correct. First name is John Paul and the last name is Pope?"

"No! Last name John Paul, first name Pope!"

"Ok sir, first name is John Paul and the last name is Pope?"

"No dammit!!! THE FRICKING LAST NAME IS JOHN PAUL AND THE FIRST NAME IS POPE. Aw hell!! Just forget it, I'm calling the Days Inn!!!

So anyway, at the very least, let your Pope take a little break!! I mean, what's the worst that could happen if he takes a week off?? You all run out to the store and buy contraceptives and take a week off from procreating? Or you cheat and eat Pork Rinds for dinner on a Friday, instead of fish? You do it anyway and you know that you can always confess it later!!!

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

I have been Mary K O'd!!

If you have never been to a Mary Kay party? If not, I suggest you go. It's kinda of hokey, but it's really fun!

So my niece was invited to a Mary Kay/Birthday party for Mom's and Daughters, and since she doesn't have a mom, and I was handy...guess who got to play the stand in role for Mom? Me!! The kid and Mom hosting this party are friends of mine from church, and I've never seen the Mom within 10 feet of a make up mirror, so I thought it'd be a real hoot.

So I zip out a homemade birthday card on the ole' home computer, throw a $20 in it and off we go, thru the rain and hail, with the 8 yr old daughter in tow.

So we get to the party, and find out that it's going to be 3 moms and 3 teens total. The kitchen table is all set up and ready to "party". Meaning that the MK Lady has these adorable little pink mirrors and foam art trays set at every place. The table was also piled with all the MK products that we might be using that night. After a little chit chatting we all set down and MK Lady gives us the MK spill. She asks us what we know about MK products and the only thing that I could think of to say was, "Well, I know for a fact that MK finally kicked the bucket."

The MK Lady got a reverent look on her face and said that no one every really knew her true age. Then MK Lady went around the table and asked each one of us what our nightly beauty regiment was. I, being the uneducated beauty idiot that I am, happily said, "Soap and Water!"

MK Lady takes about 4 steps back, (Like she thinks that I am about to steal her purse.) grabs her heart and tells me that it might be too late to reverse all the damage that I've done to my face. Horror of horrors!! (OK, I'm 40, and I have earned every damn laugh line and wrinkle, AND I still get mistaken for my kids' sister, I'LL HAVE YOU ALL KNOW!!) So after she said that, I didn't think that it would be prudent to tell her that I actually use the hand soap thats suppose to kill germs on my face.....

Then MK Lady starts to tell us about the complicated and detailed nightly beauty routine that she submits her face to every night. Cleanse, Tone, Moisturize, etc..etc.. As she's talking, I start counting wrinkles on her face (lots), and noticing the Samsonite Luggage under her eyes. Oh well..

MK Lady also tells us that we need to take care of our hands, and she details a 4 part moisturizing, beauty treatment for our little paws, and asks for a volunteer. Being that braveheart that I am, I instantly raise my craggy, liver spotted mit in the air and say, "Me, Me, oh pick ME!!"

So she takes me to the sink, and greases my hand with a product that suspiciously reminds me of Crisco, then makes me rub, rub, rub. Next comes the exfoliation product, and rub, rub, rub. 3rd step was on to the cleanser, by this time, my hands look like I had dipped them in sour cream, and rub, rub, rub. Then she tells me that I can wash them, FINALLY!! YEAH!! So I wash and dry them, then what does she do? Puts something else that resembles Crisco right back on them!! What is that all about? I am thinking, that number 2 and 3 products probably don't do squat, but were thrown in the package so that MK Lady can double the price!! Anyway, after I moisturized the paws, then everyone wanted to get in on the act, so that killed 30 minutes. That's when I noticed a most delicious chocolate cake setting off to the side, and decided that we needed to get this show on the road and eat some cake!!

After the hand washing ritual was completed, MK Lady sets up down out our cute little mirrors and starts squirting 4 different kinds of cream on each foam tray. Then she instructs us all to take our index and middle (bird) finger and rub cream #1 every so gently into our cheeks in an "upward circular motion" "carefully avoiding the under eye region", "as this is the most tender part of our bodies" (Guess she never got hit in the boob, huh?). So we all start rubbing round and round on our cheeks, only I forgot to use the index finger and was rubbing with only my bird fingers which sent all the teenagers into fits of laughter and then they all dropped their index fingers during the rubbing session. This action resulted in a sharp look from MK Lady, who was taking our beauty routines VERY seriously!!

After both cheeks are thoroughly saturated with gobs of MK cream, MK Lady hands us a wet paper towel and tells us to remove our make up. REMOVE OUR MAKE UP??

Me: "Whadda mean remove our make up?"

MK: Yes, you must now remove your make up so that you can experience our fine MK products."

Me: "Er, nobody ever said anything about us removing our make up."

While I am bitching and moaning about this, I look in the mirror and realize that the cream that I just rubbed so gently into my cheeks in an "upward circular motion" "carefully avoiding the under eye region", "as this is the most tender part of our bodies" was eating my make up off my face like bathroom scrubbing bubbles.

Now I got a problem with taking my make up off, a big problem. No one has every seen me with out the war paint, except the hubby and kids. And I only let the hubby saw me like this AFTER I got married!! Now, I don't know about you girls, but as for me, I am the type of girl who takes her make up bag everywhere. I even had it in the recovery room after my kids were born and after my surgery a couple of years ago!! No one sees the Queen without her war paint!!

So seeing that the make up was half off already, and checking to make sure that the hostess' husband was safely in the other room, comatose in front of the television, I commenced to removing my kabuki mask. After about 3 rolls of paper towels, and a good 5 minutes of scrubbing, I was bare faced atlast.

All the teens and Mom just kind of looked at each other real bashful while mentally trying to figure out who was the ugliest without make up. One of the cheekier girls spoke up and said, "Mom, you look TERRIBLE without makeup!" So I reminded her that scientific evidence shows that all girls will look EXACTLY like their mother's in 20 years. The poor girl was so stricken that she had to leave the room for fresh air!

After stripping down to our real skin, we were then instructed to dab cream #2 into our "tender eye regions", " the most tender parts of our bodies" using (this time) only the ring finger! in a "upward circular motion""carefully avoiding the eye lashes as this will make our mascara run if we get lotion on them". Well, I was so freaked out with all the instructions, that I immediately stuck my finger in my eye and got cream on my contact! Next we were allowed to use cream #3 on the rest of our faces again using the other 2 fingers and same ole' "upward circular motion". Mission Accomplished.

Then MK Lady went around with plastic card that she held to our freshly scrubbed cheeks under the kitchen light. This was so she could determine what color we were. (I can see EEOC forms all over the world being changed from Caucasian, Afro American, and Latino to Ivory, Ebony and Beige.) I am proud to say that after 40 years of guessing and hoping, that I am Ivory 200 Medium, thank you very much!!

Then she gave us a little make up samples in our predetermined color. We were instructed to squirt the make up in our little foam trays. Then we were told to apply the make only to one cheek and wait 2 minutes to determine the TRUE color match. So we all did. With the exception of one of the mom's who had a really red face from all the scrubbing, MK Lady was dead on with the correct colors.

After it was determined that our make up matched our faces, we were allowed to put the color all over our faces. Now I don't know about you, but when I apply foundation, I find it necessary to make funny faces. Faces like, turning my head up and looking down sideways, then opening my mouth and sticking my tongue in my cheek. I don't know why, it just helps to get the darn stuff on my face. Unfortunately, I noticed that no one else at the party, has this affliction. So after all the facial contortions, I managed to cover my entire face in foundation.

Next it was on to eyes/cheeks/lips. so MK Lady tosses about a dozen paper cards on the table and cheerfully says, "These are coordinated color palettes for you eye, cheeks, and lips. Pick out any color you'd like to try."

I get all glassy eyed and ask, "Um. aren't you going to tell me if I am Winter, Spring or Summer?"

MK Lady: "What?"

Me: "So what color am I? Winter, Spring or Summer?"

MK Lady (confused look): "What are you talking about"

Me: "Oh nevermind, which one do you suggest?"

MK Lady: "Just pick out something that you wouldn't normally wear."

OK, so I spy a lovely palette card called, Breezy. Lovely name! I open it to find a dark dark blue eye shadow along with 2 other eye shadows that appeared to be Taupe. Orange Cheek Blush and Coral Lipstick in a shade called Cantaloupe. Now I love anything Coral, it looks terrible on me, but I just like thye word... Coral Coral Coral. Reminds me of the ocean. Thinking of the ocean reminds me of Pina Coladas, and I LOVE PINA COLADAS!! But, I am getting off the subject.

So MK Lady says, "OK now you can start putting your colors on your faces!" Yippie, and here I was thinking that since SHE was the "Beauty Expert" that she'd be doing all the painting. Oh well.. Lucky for us all, there was VERY detailed directions on how to apply all these lovely shades to our various body parts. So I start with the eyes, I load my teeny tiny little eye wand up with the 1st eye shadow and slap it on. Then I turn the teeny tiny little wand over and load color #2 and slap that above color #1 on my eye. Then seeing that I had yet another color to apply (The dramatic highlight color, she called it.) I had to put another teeny tiny little wand from my color palette to apply color #3. So I slap on color #3 right where the card said to put in and start looking around for another card so that I can work on the other eye.

About that time, the hostess looks up from her mirror over at me and starts laughing hysterically. (Wench.) The everyone else looks at me and start laughing too. (So what the heck is so funny, I ask.) About this time, MK Lady looks over at me and hisses, "I am sure that she will blend that in!" her her most serious meanest voice.

So I look at my eye in the mirror and grab my teeny tiny little wand and start moving some of the eye shadows over to the other eye. I was following the card instructions to the T (so I thought) but apparently even though the card shows that you are suppose to look like Boy George after you apply all this color, you're not! Curses!! As instructed by the suddenly evil MK Lady, I start to blend blend blend.

So after I blend the Boy George color into my eye, and every one else at the table have applied their eye shades perfectly, like damn super models, we are instructed to find the apples of our cheeks. This is so that we can put on blush (or rouge as she said, Tres French!!) So here I am feeling my face up like a pedophile in a daycare, looking for my apple. No Luck! No apples on this girl. Maybe if I'd actually ate some apples instead of all those candied apples, I could find thohse elusive apples in my cheeks. We were instructed to "carefully and lightly" apply our "rouge" in a "half moon along our apple", so I just stuck 2 half moons under my eyes instead.

MK Lady suddenly forgot that we were suppose to put on our eyeliner, so we had to go back to the eyeballs for a little more. So she hands out these lovely microscopic eye liners and tells us to start applying. Now I don't know about ya'll, but I have spent the last 40 years trying to convince the world that I am a direct descendant of Cleopatra, so I line my eye all the way around, real heavy. Then as the added "Egyptian" touch, I like to put a upward curvy line at the outside end of my eye to complete the sexy exotic cat look.

Per MK Lady, this is a "NO NO NO". "For the naturally look" we are suppose to "lightly and gently feather" the liner on the top lid, then only line the bottom of the eye from the pupil to the outer end. (Yep, Mary Kay looked totally naturally!) No cool curves past the eye lid. "Otherwise we are closing off the eye" AND we are to never put any liner in the eye booger pool (inner corner) "because it is unsanitary". Well, thank the Lord, I found this lady before I died of pink eye!! Funny note, the hostess wench about poked her eye out with the eye liner and then had a laughing fit and almost peed her pants. (That'll teach you to laugh at me!!)

So after the eye liner, we go to the lips. Now the lips are a complicated detailed 3 step process. First step in to line. "Line the kissy part first" (Her words!) to make a sexy pout. Then the old ladies in the group (Moms) were instructed to line OUTSIDE our natural lip line because apparently, in addition to sagging boobs, wrinkles and cellulite, our lips are also falling into our mouths and disappearing. Therefore, we need to draw big fat fake ones around where the old ones use to reside. Now, God blessed me with a fat ass and big feet, but to make up for it, he gave me big fat lips! But who am I to argue with a trained professional, so I draw a big circle around me mouth. MK Lady glances over nervously and yells, "Don't line all the way to the end!!" Uh ooh, anybody got a Kleenex?

Next we are instructed to apply our lipstick inside the lines. I look for my teeny tiny lipstick applicator and discover to my horror that I already used it to put on that 3rd coat of eye shadow. So I discreetly wip my wand on the corner of the table clothe, under the table. Next, I apply to lovely coral lipstick that resembles a sunset in Hawaii inside my new lip line. After we all get our fabulously huge lips finished. MK Lady starts handing out lip gloss samples. I get coffee and cream, mmm mmm good. I was so happy, it even smelled and tasted like coffee and cream, and by this time, I was sure ready for some caffeine. Then I started smelling cotton candy, chocolate, and strawberries and cream, and looked around and realized that everyone else in the room, got something even better. I was really bummed, I was kind of craving something sweet. So we all put our super shiny lip glosses on and check ourselves in the mirror.

I could see my entire reflection in my lips, that was so cool! But my lips were HUGE!!! Like something out of a horror picture. I couldn't believe 'em, it was like the "Lips that ate New York"!!!

After lip time, MK Lady tells us that we all need to put on mascara. (Wonder why we keep switching back and forth all over the face?) So, OKey dokey. She gives us tiny little wands loaded full of "Luxurious MK Mascara" and we start apply. She also told us to never "pump" our wands, but to "twist them" then proceeded to show us how to twist our wands in our containers. It looked suspiciously exactly like it does, when you are twisting the cap off! Then she tells us that bugs live on our eye lashes and that if we don't wash all our mascara off every night that the bugs will eat the mascara and all our eye lashes off. And that the lashes won't grow back!! Yep, I really wanted to know that MK Lady!! This statement makes me want to taste my mascara to see what those bugs are all hyped up bout! The hostess was so alarmed by this statement that she then proceeded to poke her other eye with the mascara wand. By this time, I am thinking that this girl must be into S&M.

Finally after mascara is applied, we all set back in our chairs and admire our new looks. I have to admit that it was a little much for me, but I did really love the foundation and it wasn't expensive, so I bought a tube of that.

After MK Lady got our orders, then and only then were we allowed to have dessert. Well, heck by this time, I had so much gunk on my face, I could barely open my mouth, so I only had the tiniest sliver of chocolate cake. Curses!!

After all was finished, it was 10 o'clock and I had to go get my teen boy from work. So he gets in the car, and do you think he EVEN NOTICED mommy's new look? Heck no! I swear, teenagers are SO self involved!! Finally I get home, and my husband sees me and does a double take, then a triple take, then he actually walks out of the room and back in. He finally says, "That is just too much make up!! You look like a prostitute!" So I ask him how much he'd pay me to have sex with him. Apparently I didn't look that much like a prostitute because he didn't take me up on the offer. Darnit.

So I go take a shower and wash away my fabulous night of fun down into the drain, using only soap and water....

Another life in the day..

Friday, February 18, 2005

Conversations I've had with my kids...

Step Daughter when she was 4.

Me: Are you eating boogers?!?
Her: Yes.
Me: Why?
Her: Cause they taste good.
Other Kid: What do they taste like?
Her: Raspberries!!!

Them today.

8 yr and 16 yr old (Now)
Him: If you don't stop bugging me, I'm gonna tell everyone about you eating Raspberries!

My son when he was 3.

Him: Mom, I know all about boys and girls!
Me: You do? Tell me what you know.
Him: Boys have penises and Girls have china!
Me: That's right! You are VERY smart!

My son at 6.

Him: Mom, I know all about sex!
Me: Hush up and eat your burger.
Him: I do Mom!! I know that you have had sex 3 times. To make me, my brother and my sister!
Me: That's right!
Him: Mawmaw has had sex 5 times. To make Nana, Uncle C, Uncle J, Uncle B and Aunt J.
Me: That's right!
Him: But she's so old, I don't know who'd want to have sex with her!

My son now.

Me: Good Morning!
Me: Love ya!
Me: Give mommy a kiss!
Me: Wanna see the stretch marks that you put on Mommy's tummy?

My other son at 2.

Him: I am pursefect. (perfect)
Me: You sure are!

My other son now (at 21)

Him: Look Mom, I got a tattoo!
Me: Lord, help me!
Him: Look Mom, I got another tattoo!
Me: Kill me now!
Him: Look Mom, I got my nose pierced!

My Niece at 8.

Her: I really like Pokemon.
Me: Why?
Her: Cause boys like 'em.

My Neice now (15)
Her: I'm in love!
Me: Really? How long have you known him?
Her: Since yesterday!
Me: Um, don't you think that's a little quick?
Her: He's the love of my life!! Can I go to the skating ring? How does this shirt look? My butt is so big. I hate my chin. My boobs are too little. Can I borrow ten dollars? Do you think XYZ likes me?

I am such a bad mother...

So I was perusing the local newspaper yesterday and saw the my eight year old made the Honor Roll. Reports cards came out last week and I didn't even bother to check her grades. I just let Dad sign away. I think that she's so smart that we naturally assume that she's on the honor roll. Last time I pitched a report card fit, it was because she made a 91 in Science, then I only half heartedly yelled, "You can do better!"

Now before you think that I am just bragging about how brilliant my eight year is, I must tell you that she is actually my step-child. Daughter of my also brilliant, somewhat anal husband. (He's retired from the Navy and goes to school fulltime and ALWAYS pulls down a 4.0) Our eight year old is also ranked in the top 10 percentile for all the smart kids in the US. How the school figured that one out, I will never know? But that's what the note that she brought home said. She's a hoot too. She used to come home from school all the time and say, "School is SO easy!" She even got in a little trouble last year for being chatty.

My husband thinks that she's chatty because she's bored. Sounds right to me. He's concerned that she is going to turn into a juvenile deliquent because of her talking problem, so he says to me, "What am I going to do?!?!"

I casually look over at My child (his step son) whose is sixteen years old, and intently studying a booger on his finger in the living room and say, "You're asking me? Have you met my kids?"

Seriously though, my husband and I are on the opposite ends of the spectrum when is comes to education. He quit school at 15, got a GED, was already in college when his high school class graduated. He then dropped out of college to "serve his country" and did the next 20 years in the Navy, working like a dog. He was the 1st at work and the last to leave every day.

I, on the other hand, finished high school, barely, with the rest of my class. Opted out of a nursing scholarship (Blood? Ick!!) and immediately starting spitting out babies and working at the 1st job, I could find. I've did ok, although I passionately hate my job now. I am performer, just not a superstar. I used to be the briefcase toting, suit wearing, power lunch girl, but I finally realized that my kids were suffering (and out of control) and that all I wanted to be remembered for, was that I loved my children. (sniff sniff)

I think that in order to get ahead in the work, it's expected that you step on your coworkers, neglect your kids and grub up to the man! I say, "Screw it all!!!" When you die, what do you want on your tombstone?

Here lies
Josie Blow
came in early
worked late
Here lies
Josie Blow
So I guess what I am trying to instill in my kids, (ecspecially Little Miss Brilliant and Mr. Slackerboy) is to enjoy life. Live, Love, Laugh.
I look back on my life and realized that I missed so much. I was at work when my kids learned how to walk, I was at work when my children were learning their ABC's. I missed so many days. When I think back to the best times of my life, I don't remember anything about work, or the fabulous vacations that I took. I remember the times that I spent with my kids, the times when we cuddled under the blankets on a rainy morning, and times when I held them in my lap and they told me that I was the best mommy in the world.
I still feel like I am missing so much. I get up early, scream byebye as I hit the door to drive 2 hours to a job THAT I HATE!!, then drive 2 hours to get home, slap dinner on the table, do a load of laundry, yell at the kids to pick up their messes and collapse in front of the TV like a zombie..
When is my time to be a good mom? Would the kids even want me to be? Sometimes I talk to the older ones (15 and 16) and they look at me like I've grown another head. Other times I have them following me (ecspecially the 15 yr old) from room to room trying talk to me, as I run around like a chicken with it's head cut off.
My eight year old has just about given up, she just stays either outside or in her room.
AARGGGHHH!!! I'd got to get control of my life before it's too late. I need more time and patience!! I need it like a crackhead needs a fix!

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

The State of the Royal Titties...

There I said it, Titties!! I am going straight to hell. But I must comment on the Future Princess Consort Camilla's rack. I am just sure that the English press must hate her worse than spicey food. I know this is true, because every bit of footage that they are showing of her, has her in that hideous Gunny Sack Prom Dress from the '80's. (The white long sleeved number.) It doesn't do a thing for her figure!!

I am guessing that Camilla is probably loaded considering that she is dating a Prince and lives on a big estate in England. I just gotta wonder why she doesn't invest in a Wonder Bra. Lord help us, Queen Elizabeth's breasts are about six inches highes on her chest that Cam's and she is 20 years older and has spit out 4 kids as compared to Cam's 2. (Probably didn't breast feed them though. I am sure that this duty feel to the Royal Milk Nurse or Royal Nanny.)

Camilla honey, let's get this show on the road! Go out and have those fangs brightened so you don't look like Austin Powers and invest in some support bras. And very soon you too will be the toast of England. We all love a Princess, even if she's a Princess Consort!!

Monday, February 14, 2005

Please, I need advice..

My boss is a total ass. He is arrogant and pompous. These are his good qualities!! Here's my concern. He has this habit of flicking people in the head. Yep, I said FLICKING PEOPLE IN THE HEAD.

The first time he showed this side to me, we were standing in the middle of the office surrounded by about 5 other people and he had some papers in his hand. We were talking about a customer and he didn't like the answer that I gave him, so he just reached over and banged me over the head with his papers. I was stunned. I didn't know how to react. I come from a culture (upbringing) where hitting just doesn't take place, and isn't allowed. Even when you are trying to be cute. I am sure that I turned instantly red allover. (I also do not appreciate it when someone touches my head or hair - think Mary's brother in Something About Mary.)

I was so pissed, but I didn't say anything. I thought that I might be over reacting, but then I heard a coworker say to someone else in the office, "For God's sake, don't piss him off, or he'll hit you too." I told a couple of my girlfriends about it later and they were also mortified, but had no real advice on how to handle it. I also told my hubby about it and he wanted to whoop his ass. (I think because he saw how mortified I was when I told him.)

Oh it doesn't stop here. He has also done this to a coworker. And the boss has tried to flick me in the head again, twice!! One time, he was setting at his desk and I was standing beside him. (He asked me a question, then when I answered, he puts his fingers up and tries to flick me in the head.) Last time this happened I backed away and he said, "Come here." like he thought I would let him hit me!! I just looked at him real dirty and changed the subject.

Again, the stupid bastard tried to do it to me again this morning!!! This was about 10 minutes after I drove an hour and half thru the damn rain to get to work!!! Bastard!! He didn't do it, but he stood over me with his fingers about 8 inches from my forehead like he was going to flick me. I don't even know why! Ok, like I said, I need advice please.

Although I am not a hitter. (damn I have spent the last 20 something years teaching my kids not to hit) I was so close to putting my fingers together and pretending like I was going to flick him in the balls. I would have, but I thought that it would border on some kind of "sexual workplace" infraction.

I don't know what to do!! Should I say something like, "Excuse me, we do not hit." Call his Boss and tell him what's going on? Try to be cute about it when he does it? or just continue to ignore it? I don't think that I can continue to ignore it, it pisses me off so badly!

I feel that this is an intimindation thing with him. Whenever he does it to me, or I see him do it to someone else, I get really disturbed and angry. Maybe I am over reacting, but if I heard that my husband or children did this to someone, I would totally pitch the world's biggest hissy fit!

Any Ideas?

Wednesday, February 09, 2005

Time to start burning our Bras!!

What the heck is up (or down,depending on how they hang) with my bra today. It's totally poking me in the side like a six year old on a candy rush! Dangit!! If my knockers didn't drag the floor, I'd go to the ladies room right now and throw this bra in the TOILET!!!

Whoa is the time when I use to wear my manhunting uniforms!! Matching panties and bras that kept my boobies in that nice perky place right under my chin. Hard to believe that time as flown by so fast. I still have those sets, every now and then when I am trawling thru my drawers looking for a missing sock, I will come across the odd bra or stray panty.

Last time I saw my favorite push up being worn, it was tied across my little one's chest. She thought it was the most amazing invention ever. Her little face was lit up like it was Christmas, and she adoringly gaze upon the empty cup, wishing that they would soon "runneth over". Yep, she'll regret that wish soon enough..

Well, I haven't bitched and moaned about office life lately, so here's a little update. We moved our office to the "better" side of town. We are no longer in the hood, but now in a little trendy building at the Perimeter. If you are from Atl, then you must know that the Perimeter area has more traffic than than I-95 during a Hurricane evacuation. I could throw a rock at I-285 from my office, but it takes me 20 minutes to get the darn car on the ramp every night, after work. I now have to drive 1.5 hours to get home every night!!! It's 35 miles, DADBURNIT!!!

Anyway, needless to say, tempers are short around the office, because everyone is trying to adjust to the new drive. One morning I get off the elevator a little before 9am and there sits my coworker, Bad Hair Elvis. So I ask, "Uh, what's up?" and he launches into his tirade about how he is coming from Kennesaw and how it takes him forever to get to work isf he doesn't leave early, and he's been here since 7am this morning trying to get into the office. (None of us Sales People have keys now, because we can't be trusted to not screw with the thermostats, and sharpen our pencils down to wasteful little nubs, when Management is not around.)

So we sit at the elevator for about 15 minutes waiting on someone with a key to show up. I sit, he whines, you know the routine. When suddenly the elevator doors open and there stands the receptionist (Penelope Pittstop) with that wet hair, I just rolled my ass outta bed, look. She is supposed to be in the office by 8am to let us in. She's hourly, we're not.

She's making all the crazy excuses about how she worked out new hours with management. OK, whatever, just let us in already. So she lets us in, and I turn up the computer and try to start work.

I have to go see Penelope for office supplies, so I walk back to her new office. (She picked it, by the corner, biggest-nicest office in the whole place.- I have to ask the question in my head..."Who IS that girl sleeping with?" She's the receptionist for Goodness Sakes!!!) So I am standing there, chit chatting, trying to get my damn supplies, when up walks Elvis. He interrupts as usual to ask some assinine question and then proceeds to throw 2 moving boxes into an empty office. Penelope sees red and says "Stack it up in there!" Elvis wigs out and screams at P, P screams at E. blah blah blah. (Oh yes, I slunk back to my cube.)

Then Elvis comes to me and explains why he was just a total ass to her, and wants to know if he was in the right. Then a little later, P comes to me, same thing. (Crap!-What do I look like, Ms. Manners?!?!) Anywho when the boss (Mr One Up) gets in both are racing to get to him, to tattle first. Then the boss and P race over to me to get the story. I calmly pick up the phone and pretend like I am having a deep conversation with the dial tone. He and P just stand there for like 3 minutes while I talk and talk... Finally they gave up. THANK THE LORD!!

You know when my kids whine, complain and bicker, I always threaten to show them my hideous stretch marks. And when I do, I say, "You think you got problems, Look what you did to Mommy." I was so close...HA HA.

Well it's 1:30 right now and I have all kinds of things that I need to get done. I think that I will go down and shoot the shit with the crazy (crazy nice, not crazy gonna take hostages) Iranian guy who runs the cafe downstairs.


Monday, February 07, 2005

God answers Prayers...Even the little ones.

It's so true. Here's my example. So I have be obsessing about my son's bathroom clutter in the basement. I thought that a shelf would be nice, so Saturday morning I go out to buy a shelf. As I am walking out, my husband informs me that we are broke, as usual. So I go to Big Lots, I also needed a new fluorescent light for the kitchen. Its so dad-blamed dark in there.

So here I am at Big Lots, looking at a $50 shelf, then a $30 plant stand thinking that I hated both of these, and couldn't afford them anyway. So I cruise over to the plastics aisle and check out these cool stackable drawer units that I really liked. But they were $8 per unit and I needed atleast 4 units to start. TOO EXPENSIVE!!

I also didn't find ANY lights for the kitchen, so I mope out of the store and vowed to try K-Mart later in the week. I go home and plug up the existing fluorescent light over the kitchen window, it hasn't worked in over a year, and fix myself a snack. A couple of hours later, as it's getting dark out, I notice that the light IS WORKING!!! It's on, it's shining bright and I LOVE IT!!!

Happy as a clam, I leave to drop the 15yr old to church and WHAT DO I FIND IN THE NEIGHBORS TRASH!!!! An amazing drawer unit with about 8 drawers in all different sizes. The bottom drawer was damaged, but I think that I can turn that one around and still use it. (Before you stone me for picking thru the neighbor's trash, she's moving out of her home and we all pick thru eachothers trash and it's fine with her, so there!)

Once I stuck the lovely drawer unit in the garage to be cleaned up (it has a couple of Cinderella stickers on some of the drawers) and I thought about what I had said earlier in the day when I was looking for the light and shelf units. I think I said something like, "Lord, help me..." AND HE DID!!

I believe that God is also working another miracle in my life right now, but it's so in the premature stages, that I don't even want to talk about it right now, I am afraid that just talking about it will "nosh" the deal. So hopefully, I will have some more good news to share later this week. This one is something that I have prayed and prayed about. I have prayed and begged God so hard on this one that I feel a little guilty about it, but in His own time, it seems that he is also answering this BIG ONE!!

You know, while we are on the subject... About a year ago I saw a miracle and told a couple of people about it and they looked at me like I had lost my mind. I saw this couple at church go up the alter and pray with our pastor for good health for the wife. She has been suffering seizures and blackouts for years. While they were praying with their heads together, I saw like a golden glow rise from between them all, light up there faces. I was mesmorized, I didn't want to move and look away when it happened. It lasted about 30 seconds, I was totally dumbfounded. Yep, a minor miracle or even just something strange, but it certainly got my attention.

I have always been bummed out that I never saw a ghost, an alien or Big Foot. I also have never seen the Virgin Mary in the clouds, or Jesus on a wall or sandwich or anything. But after seeing this light at church, I realized that I had seen many miracles in my lifetime. Like the time on 285 when I saw a lady standing in the middle lanes of the highway beside her overturned SUV without a scratch on her. Or the time that my brother was put thru a hay conveyor and ended up with only mashed fingers. Or my little cousin before he died as a teenager, he told us that he wasn't afraid to die because people from heaven had come to him and told him that they would take care of him there. Or another family member, who on her death bed raised her arms to the sky and said, "Take me Jesus, I am ready to go!"

This last one pissed me off so bad. Here was a 38 year old woman with a new daughter to take care of, and she was suppose to be fighting heart disease. I was so mad that she just gave up and said, "Take me." Later, I realized that she didn't ever give up, that she was put on earth to only live those 38 years and that God gave her the miracle of acceptance of her situation. Her little daughter is now being cared for by the grandparents, and that little girl has brought so much joy into this family who has already lost 2 of their children to death, and is now watching a third child get sick and die.

Anyway, I am obviously opening my cracked heart up today. Forgive me, I am just feeling so sappy over my new drawers and my old (now working) new light. Thank You Lord!!!