Funniest conversation I've had this week.

Hubby put the 5-year-old to bed last night. 20 minutes later he starts hollering for me.

Me: What's the problem, buddy?

Cody: I told you I can't sleep for 7 days.


He's referring to a bribe I've made with him that if he stays in his bed for 7 days I'll buy him anything in the world he wants including a house with an indoor swimming pool.


Me: No one can stay awake for 7 days. You need to go back to sleep. I'll lay down with you for one song.


Referring to the Best of Thomas the Train Music that he listens to every night. Why do I torture myself with this music? I think some of my friends back in college stayed awake for 7 days, but that was due to some pharmaceutical help. When is Ambien going to come out with a product for children?


Cody: How are ears pierced?

Me: My ears aren't pierced.
He feels my ears. Is there no trust in this world?

Cody: I know, but how are ears pierced.

Me: They put a needle through your earlobe. It's very quick, but hurts a little.

Cody: I'm never going to do that.

Me: You don't want to look like Uncle Mark?

Cody: Grandma has her ears pierced.

Me: Yep, Grandma likes her earrings.

Cody: She wears them to look pretty.

Me: Yes, she does.

Cody: She's old and going to die.

Me: Don't say that! That's not nice.

Cody: No, she's old and going to get older and then going to die.

Me: Well, yes, I guess one day, but we hope that day isn't for a long time.

Cody: Unless she believes in beaver.

Me: What?
Did he just say Beiber or beaver. I'm not sure what's worse.

Cody: If you believe in beaver, you will live forever.

Me: Do you mean God?

Cody: Yes. Beaver is another name for Jesus.

Me: Ok. It's time to go to bed.

Mmmmm Mmmmm Good.

Welcome to my blog today. It's a safe place. A place free from judgement for not knowing what SOPA is or anything about the Republican candidates. A place full of judgement for not knowing who Lisa Turtle is or what song Jesse Spano sang during her speed addiction. Welcome home.

Last night I had a meeting after work for a committee I'm on. I don't spend much time doing anything past work or being with my kids so sadly I treasure meetings like this that get me out of my norm and get my brain ticking in a different direction. I got out of the meeting and immediately received a call from the hubby. An unfortunate accident had occurred - McDonald's messed up his order in the drive-thru. He got home to discover the mistake, called McDonald's and they were expecting my arrival to pick up the correct order. I must have been reeling from my hour of freedom because I didn't do my usual routine which would be to point out the fact that he should have checked his order before leaving the drive-thru and how necessary is it - principle aside - to get the order corrected. Instead I just learned what the correct order should be.

Because I know you are wondering. He got a McNugget Happy Meal for the youngest, but what he received was a Happy Meal container that only held fries and a girl's toy.

So I stopped by McDonald's, stood in line and got the correct order. Got home to find the youngest was done with dinner. Hubby and the oldest had eaten by this point, too. Hubby asked me what I was going to have for dinner.

"Looks like a McNugget Happy Meal."

To make the dinner a little more pathetic I got to eat it sitting next to the bath tub while the youngest took a bath. While eating my gourmet meal I reflected on the video someone had sent me earlier in the day regarding chicken nuggets and how they contain disturbing parts of a chicken. This kind of thing really doesn't bother me. I love hot dogs. Pig assholes and lips? Tasty. In college I took a Philosophy class which was more so about the teacher spreading her Vegan beliefs than anything to do with Philosophy, but the class was required. On the last day of class she showed a video of cows being slaughtered followed up with a vegan cake. Some in the class had to walk out of the movie because they were so nauseous from watching it. I went to McDonald's afterward and got a double cheeseburger.

I don't mean to be insensitive. I like animals just fine. I also like them with just a little pink on my plate. I have a girlfriend that only buys free range eggs after driving behind a chicken truck that had the chickens packed in the truck to such an extent she felt it was inhumane. God love her. I'm sure it was much more humane for the chickens to live freely. You know, before their unhatched babies were stolen from them for human consumption.

Whatever helps you sleep at night. All I know is if a study comes out that shows that McDonald french fries are made of adorable puppies. I'm still eating them. Those things are amazing.


UPDATE: The hubby says the original Happy Meal order actually contained a container of Sweet n Sour sauce and a girl's toy. He also pointed out that they received one straw for three drinks. Drive-thru fail.

The only thing irrational about fears is the rationale for those fears.

I don't really know what that blog title means. Does it make me sound smart? At this point is there even a chance of that? I'm guessing no.

I'm writing this blog to force myself to take a break from reading the Jaycee Dugard book. I'm enjoying the book - if you can say enjoying. It's kind of like a train wreck that you can't walk away from. I know it has a happy ending so I guess that helps. I enjoy it like I enjoyed The Girl With a Dragon Tattoo movie. I read that book, too so it really doesn't make sense why I went to see the movie. It's full of perversity, misogyny and violence. And I'm not even giving away anything by telling you that. So what does it say about me that I am putting myself through this? That I like that kind of thing? I probably need therapy.

So I'm taking a break from the book, doing a load of laundry, watching the 25th Anniversary special of Les Miserables on public access and writing this blog. And obviously counting down the days until my next birthday when I will turn 93. I've said before I'm like a gay Ice T. I was listening to gangster rap all day at work - because there is nothing that keeps me more focused than some hardcore, dirty rap. I get home from work to play with my kid and now here I sit drawing comfort from some showtunes in my Forever Lazy.

If you know of a good therapist, please leave it in the comments section below.

So about Jaycee Dugard. She might be my hero because she lived through what is my ultimate worst nightmare. My biggest irrational fear is being kidnapped. I can only claim this as an irrational fear in the last 5 years because now that I have children, shouldn't I worry more about them getting kidnapped?  Is it even considered kidnapping if you are 34?

The idea that my kids could be kidnapped rarely enters my head. Aside from the few occasions I've been at a park or children's play area and a random dude on his own is hanging out there. Then it's splitzville.

Back to me. (I have to say this way too often I've noticed.) I won't sit in a car by myself when I'm in the passenger seat. Well, I will but I immediately lock the doors and sit there in paranoia checking everyone out, waiting for someone to come up to the car and snatch me. Because, yes, someone is going to come up and kidnap me. Not mug me. Not attack me. They are going to kidnap me and call my parents for ransom. If that happens, I wonder if my parents will give them the hubby's phone number. I have been this way as long as I can remember. So I guess my only saving grace is I didn't start doing this when I was in my 20's. I've been terrified of being kidnapped since I was a child.

My other big fear is snakes, but I don't find this to be irrational. You should be scared of snakes. They are evil animals, put on this Earth for absolutely no reason. I am certain the Devil put them here and God allows them to be here so we are reminded that the Devil exists. In my opinion, the people that deserve to be kidnapped are those that try to keep a snake as a pet. I don't understand the point of it. You can't play with a snake, you can't cuddle with a snake. What is the point? Snake owners are stupid. And snake handlers? Words cannot express the stupidity.

And now I'll probably have nightmares of getting kidnapped, held in a tent in some pervert's backyard with a bunch of snakes to share my space with. I won't last a minute.

At least I can gay out to the finale of Les Miserables.

Forever Awesome

This blog must start with me telling you about my soul mate. I'm not talking about my hubby. Don't get me wrong. He's awesome. I love him completely. He's a fantastic husband, partner, lover and friend. But this has nothing to do with him. This is about a person God put into my life when I was in 8th grade and has been by my side ever since. Now, more so, in a symbolic capacity as we live several states apart.

I have to tell you about her because only she would know the absolute best gift someone could ever give me. And I received that gift on Saturday. The other back story to this gift is that she ordered it at the beginning of December and told me I had something "special" coming my way. We don't normally buy each other gifts, but she said she had to get this for me. Mid-December came and went and still no package. End of December came and went and again no package. This past Friday I let her know I still hadn't received a pacakge so she could continue to track it and make sure she isn't charged for it. She spent some time yelling at the company's customer service rep and then called me to finally tell me what I would most likely never receive - a Forever Lazy for myself and the hubby. I enjoyed the thought of course, but was really disappointed that I wouldn't be receiving it. I was hoping I would get one for Christmas. I had joked about it some, but never "officially" requested it. Saturday I went out to check the mail and there outside my door was a package - return address "Forever Lazy". I couldn't get it into my house, opened up and on me fast enough. Unfortuantely I was home alone with the kids so I had to leave the photo session to the 5-year-old so I could text a picture to my girlfriend to let her know the Forever Lazy finally made its destination. After the mini photo shoot I slipped out of it, saving it for later that evening when hanging out with the hubby.

Now, onto my official consumer report of the Forever Lazy. First, it comes in three sizes. Small/X-Small, Medium, and Large/X-Large. She ordered two mediums which claims to fit someone 5'0-6'0 tall, 100-200 pounds. I thought that's what you called One Size Fits All. However, they sent two Large/X-Large. I'm pretty sure the Forever Lazy isn't supposed to be fitted in anyway, but with a Large/X-Large the major disadvantage is dealing with extra long arms and legs. I had to roll the bottoms several times and the arms a little, but the rolls held easily so no harm/no foul. Lots of room in the mid-section. Definitely the article of clothing to wear when going on a good eating binge. The Forever Lazy comes in three colors - blue, pink or grey. She chose blue. I'm sure to bring out the color of my eyes. The weight of the Forever Lazy is the exact weight of a Snuggie. It's the exact same material. It's not incredibly thick, but will keep you warm. When wearing the Forever Lazy , you are transformed into a cross between a Smuf and an Oompa Loompa. So....super hot. One of the major selling points of the Forever Lazy is that it includes a back hatch so you don't have to take the onesie off in order to use the restroom. I doubted how easily this would work. The back hatch is a zipper that runs across the back of the Forever Lazy. It keeps the Forever Lazy sticking out, similar to what would happen if you added the frame from a hoop skirt. The back hatch worked perfectly. The hubby and I sat around drinking beers last night late into the evening and I tend to pee an extraordinary amount when I drink so the back hatch got quite a work out. It was a breeze every time. The hubby didn't sport his Forever Lazy until this morning. I tried to talk him into it the night before, but I guess he felt the room was only large enough for one of us to be super sexy at a time. He was probably right. After the hubby had it on for a few hours this morning, the 5-year-old said he wanted "one of those blue things", too. So we placed an immediate call into the Forever Lazy fairy - my girlfriend.

With the Forever Lazy you're guaranteed a full range of motion. I was able to do physical activites like multiple 12 ounce reps, running up the steps to the bathroom, Wii Beer Pong and Wii Guitar Hero. Plus, I stayed warm and cozy the entire time.

So thank you Forever Lazy and thank you to my dear girlfriend for my new favorite item. I need to check the human resources dress code before the morning to make sure I can wear it to work.

shut up...shut up...shut up...

This is what happens in my house when I start talking. The hubby puts his hands over his ears, closes his eyes and says, "shut up...shut up...shut up..."

It doesn't work, but he tries.

This is what I have been doing every time I hear from these New Year's Resolutioners. Ugh. They are so annoying. And some have been doing this long before the New Year. I realize being a fatty isn't for everyone. Some people want to be fit and healthy. Fine. To each their own. But stop beating the rest of us over the head with it.

I - and the rest of your Facebook friends - do not need to know how many miles you ran today and in what time. We're not impressed. Yes, we are judging you. But for all the wrong reasons. We are not gathering motivation from you. Instead we are simply having hateful thoughts about you. None of us think you will continue all year with this regime. Mostly we are wishing for you to give up on your New Year's resolution just so you will stop posting about it.

Then there are those of you - some of my closest friends by the way - that are signing their lives away for various races throughout 2012. Now, I'm not trying to be a hypocrite here. I've done some races. Normal things like 5K's and one 12K - which I fell on my face after the first mile (got laughed at by a bunch of gays) and spent the rest of the time hobbling to the finish line with blood running down my legs. Lesson learned. And that wasn't a slam on someone calling them gay as a put down. The race was in San Francisco. Some hot young gentlemen in super hero bikini briefs were running behind me. They stopped, pointed and laughed. They didn't even help a hag up. Now, those are some mean gays.

These ex-friends of mine are signing up for fucking marathons. Marathons are about the dumbest thing I've ever heard of. It might even be dumber than the do-it-yourself wall print of my initials made up of buttons that another girlfriend keeps trying to talk me into. I need some new fucking friends. The ones I have are ridiculous.

A marathon is 26 miles. A few miles more - and we're at my daily commute that I do twice a day, 5 days a week...in a car. Like a civilized person. Do these people not understand that we have cars now? It's 2012. You don't have to run away from lions or some other wildlife. And if that was the case, you are no where fast enough to out run the majority of wild animals. And I don't believe for a second that it is "fun". If this is your definition of fun then you obviously need to hang out with me more to discover what real fun is.

And then we have CrossFitters. Oh holy shit, these people speak in their own language and love it. It's like a freaking cult. I'm not going to lie. CrossFit interested me and I asked a friend about it. From what I understand it is about a 30 minute work out that you can do at a gym or at home daily. Each day is a different set of calisthenics looped together to push different parts of your body. Sounds pretty good, right? Wrong. Because then these fools start talking in code saying things like "WOD, Burpee, Clean and Jerk - which doesn't mean what I think it should mean - Ring Dips, Snatch Balance - again, not what you think - and more." Do I have to join a cult just to get some exercise?

Now, I know there are some freaks of nature that do Iron Men and crazy shit like that. More power to them. I enjoy watching it from the comfort of my couch. Their efforts are amazing, scary and mentally questionable. But I'm impressed.

I just think we should go back to a world where people exercise and they don't push it in your face. You see, I had a dream that one day fatties and skinnies can live together in peace and harmony with love for each other without judgement and most importantly without pushing your actions on one another.

Now, if you will excuse me I have some chips to get back to.

Symptoms of White Trash

There are many symptoms of white trash that I come down with occasionally. One of these is running out of toilet paper at home. 

It happens a little something like this... 

Run into the bathroom nearly pissing my pants - I like to play the "wait to the last minute to pee" game. Plop down on the toilet just in time for no pee spillage without glancing over at the toilet paper roll. Grab at the toilet paper when I am done and then discover the remnant of a square left behind. Lean forward to check the basket that holds the spare toilet paper rolls. Looks empty, but there could be a roll at the bottom. Can't tell from this position. Do a little shimmy to shake off any excess and waddle over to the basket to discover....empty. Waddle back to the toilet to drip dry in my own home. During the drip dry, if the hubby is home, comes the argument over who used the last of the toilet paper. Blame is always set on the other person. I assume once the kids are old enough we will blame it on them. Then comes the walk to the basement to discover what I already knows to be true. There's no more toilet paper in storage. You see, I'm a big believer in buying in bulk. That and the hubby and I have a torrid love affair with Sam's Club. It's not physically possible to walk out of there without spending $100. It's not physically possible for us to walk out of there without buying something ridiculous. And wouldn't you know it, Sam's sells "ridiculous" in bulk, too. 

Back to the toilet paper search. By this point, I've accepted the consequences of my drip dry or lack there of and now head to the other bathroom in the hopes there is a spare roll there. We have two bathrooms. The bathroom on the main floor is what we use 99% of the time. The other bathroom is between the toy room and the 5-year-old's room and is mainly used by the 5-year-old who requires very little toilet paper. (With his poor aim, he also doesn't seem to require much of a toilet, but that's another tale for another day.) However, we've had company in from out of town that have used that toilet and I knew I stocked it with a spare roll before they arrived in town. I was hoping I had gotten lucky and the spare roll hadn't been used yet. Not the case. There was less than a 1/3 of a roll, but it was at least some to get us through to the next day so we didn't have to venture out that evening. Proof there is a God.

Drip drying at home is not a good feeling. In my 20's at a bar....well, that's just natural. But in my 30's at home just feels wrong. Maybe it isn't white trash. Maybe African Americans,  Asians, maybe even Canadians run out of toilet paper at home occasionally. Those Canadians probably don't even use toilet paper! Sickos! 

I don't know. I haven't looked at the census report to know how whites fair against other ethnicities when it comes to the at-home-drip-dry, but my gut tells me it is a white thing. 

If you're sitting on the can, reading this from your smart phone...I hope you have TP for your bun hole.

Happy New Year!

Happy 2012. Hopefully you are reading this while still hungover from partying on New Year's Eve, but I'm guessing you are not as New Year's Eve is notorious for being underwhelming. Once I had kids I stopped even attempting to plan an exciting New Year's Eve. So instead I stay up to see how uncomfortable I will feel by watching Dick Clark try to count backwards from 20. This year I almost turned the channel, but am morbid enough that I had to watch.

As the year came to a close, of course, I started thinking about what resolutions I was going to make. Eat better. Work out more. Kick some vices. Be more attentive and patient with the people in my life. Work with my children on their development more. Keep a cleaner house. I could go on and on. However, after thinking about it a little more I decided I needed to think bigger and better. And that's when I thought of the biggest and the best....ME! Okay, so maybe I should still add something in there about weight loss.

Regardless, the #1 resolution is to give myself time away from those I love most in this world so that I can love them better when I am around them. As much as I'd like this to take the form of travel, I'd say it is more likely to be evenings out with friends or even by myself to just escape my children for a few hours. They are cute little suckers, but I think they might be trying to smother me with their love. I guess I can't blame them. I am pretty awesome. If I were them, I'd want to be around me. Heck - I am me and I want to be around me.

Also, I resolve to be a more active blogger. So you will be hearing a lot more from me in 2012.

Fuck, that makes me feel old typing 2012.