A face only a mother could love

So glad to be done with all the Christmas stuff. I do love Christmas, but overcommercialized is an understatement.

I received a very nice present, with which I will show you my best buddy, aka "the 1st sight you see when you walk into my front door", aka "Puffydog".

After a crazy Christmas season, I now have finally brought the runt home with me and have my step-daughters for the week - their dad, who's working every day, felt like he wanted to have them this week so he could see them. In the female language, this is translated to "you babysit, dear, so I can spend 10 minutes a day with them."

Happy New Year.

An affair of the mind

Last night, I was actually a member of this conversation:

Me: "I wish you'd take my legs into the bathroom and shave them for me."

Him: "Oh yeah...and you can't shave your legs until you get back."

Me: "What?"

Him: "Why would you want to shave your legs now?"

Me: "Because they need to be shaved. The hair is starting to revolt and curl up."

Him: "You wouldn't shave them for me before you got here, or while you were here with me, why would you want to shave them right before you leave? So you can have them clean-shaven for your boyfriend in El Dorado?"

Me: "Yes. That's exactly my plan. You've found me out."

(I've found, with much experience, that it's just easier to agree.)

My freshly shaven legs and I are off to El Dorado today - for a weekend rondezvous with the object of my secret affections...MY JOB.

Oh, the shame.

Hot Hope Springs Eternal

Well, I'm here! For a few days a week anyway. I struck a deal with my boss, and arranged to work 3 12-hr-shifts a week for the remainder of December, so I'll be going back and forth every week. This is quite useful since I've left my son behind to finish out the semester at his old school. Try as I might, I'm not sure how to otherwise make his move less traumatic. When I was just a year or 2 older than he, I moved to Dallas and remember all too well how much of a change it was and how much I hated it. This way allows him a little more time to get used to the idea of moving, say goodbye to friends, and visit relatives. I do miss him though, and wish he were more in favor of the move. My having to go back weekly to work gives me a chance to visit him and keep up with his life while I try to transform to a new life in a new place.

Speaking of which, yesterday's transition exercise didn't go well. My mission was simple - go get hubby a money order and buy a stamp with which to mail it. Sounds simple....but let me assure you it was no simple task. The money order was simple enough - there was a bank just across from the off-ramp on Central Avenue/Hwy. 270. So I ask the teller where the closest place to buy a stamp was as I was new in town and had no idea where the post office was. She told me the Walgreens just across the street was the place for me. Except, Central is a 6-lane main drag and I was attempting to cross the street at the point and time where all cars in Hot Springs simultaneously line up, forcing me to get out in the wrong lane for me to turn, which meant I had to go on down and turn around to get on the right side of the road. So a did a little necessary shopping - soft bleach cleaner (necessary because my countertops in the kitchen have stains I didn't see when I moved in), pads, and a small package of Nutter Butter cookies (I didn't know these were necessary until I attempted to cross the street from the bank. When I broke into tears, I realized that my period must be near.) I then stood in line for 20 minutes waiting to checkout, and was then told "yes, we sell stamps, but we're out of them." From the surprised look on her face, I figure she must be telepathic. So I asked where I could find a stamp. She directed me to 'that traffic light over there' as she pointed out the window at 3 traffic lights. "Just turn right at that one and the post office is about a mile down the road." Apparently she meant one of the other lights, because 'that' light was connected to a one-way street going the wrong way. So I continued on...and on, and on. Then the gas light dings at me, so I stop to fill up after turning around because my on and on went on too far when I realized I was about to cross Lake Hamilton.

Gas pumped, and 2 hours into my journey, I return to my mission - find a stamp - and finally I spy an Office Depot sign. I whip in to find the most beautiful sight, a pack-ship-mail type of operation going on in the corner of the store. AT LONG LAST! They gotta have a stamp over there. So I walk up to the clerk, a bouncy blonde fresh out of high school, and say "can I buy a stamp?" and she says "we only sell them in books of 20." I reply, "I don't give a shit if I have to buy 100, I'LL TAKE IT."

So, to recap: On my first full day living in Hot Springs, I spent $26 on a two-hour trek to buy a stamp, probably offended a few folks, and learned that all who drive in Hot Springs do so like road-raged maniacs.

I shall not leave the house again until it's time to leave for work on Friday.

Misery loves company?

Because I am the type of person who's not happy being stressed and worried alone, I totally think it's cool that someone else is house hunting as well. Good luck on your hunting ninjapoodles!

I secretly wonder if her husband is being as much of a pain in the ass as mine is.

Of Leases and Pancakes

Ok. I'm back from a whirlwind day and a half of house hunting, and am happy to report we did find something - well, we found 2 somethings. First, let me say that for as much looking as we did, to find only 2 places that were acceptable was quite disappointing. Of course, we were on a very short time frame - 2 days - and price wise, I was nearly blown away. We live in a small town, real estate is somewhat reasonable. I'm actually on the lucky end. I rent a 2BR single family house with plenty of room in a good neighborhood and pay $350 a month. No freeways, close to everything, less than 2 miles from work.

Apparently this isn't so with the rest of the world.

The first one we looked at was a 2BR/2BA single-wide trailer in a fresh-made trailer park with no grass and 2 inches between each abode listing for $485 a month. Inside...ok, the carpet was fuschia. Need I say more?

Next was a house for $500 with a fireplace, 2BR - sounded good, but the street was lined with sparkling hoopties sporting 20s and the porches were full. Moving on...

And another one for $500 that was well worth it by the sound of it from the landlord on the phone...everything we were looking for, but no pets. So that's out.

And on, and on, and on to house after trailer park until finally we decided to have a look at the one we saved for last - a brand new community of duplexes, well-built, preferable school district, everything we wanted - side-by-side refrigerator included, 2BR/2BA, berber carpet, alarm system, yard kept, dogs welcome, quite nice - except the price. $725 a month. Now...you might say "that's not abnormal" but remember, my rent is $350. For me, it's very abnormal, bordering on insane. But, we had resigned. Hot Springs had beat us, and we were about to give in. So we gave up for the night, and went to our refuge for the evening telling the people at Pebble Peak Ridge we'd talk it over and would probably be back in the morning to sign the papers.

No sleep. Thinking and thinking, as we tossed and turned in our comfy bed at my brother-in-law's $1200/month lakeside cabin's downstairs guest quarters. Up at 2am and out to smoke and watch the moon's reflection on Lake Catherine, and back to tossing and turning.

Up at 6am with visions of lease signing dancing in my head, I showered and prepared to sign my life away. And off we went to The Pancake Shop - the only place to have breakfast when you're in Hot Springs as far as I'm concerned - to fatten our bellies before we lightened our wallets. As we waited for our pancakes, we discussed that maybe we should look a little more before going back to Pebble Peak Ridge - I could just start calling some of the realtors and ask if there were any rental properties they knew of in hopes of a bite. Right off the bat, we were turned on to a 3BR/2BA brick duplex just 2 streets over from my brother-in-law's place - an even more favorable school district, $650 a month, and it just so happened the place was to come available that very day, though it needed to be cleaned. I was able to persuade the owner to show it to us immediately :)

So Friday, we'll be the proud 6-month lease holders on that little hard-to-find sucker. I had no idea what a problem housing was in that area. Arkansans, how 'bout a heads up next time? Jeez!

Searching

We'll be in Hot Springs Thursday and Friday searching for a place to move to. Wish me luck!!

I am so disappointed that this is not go-out-for-drinks-weekend

Thursday, I began the new (to me) position of Treatment/Infection Control Nurse. Friday, my trainer called in sick to work. Overwhelmed with new responsibilities and no one to explain them, I got a call from hubby wherein he began to read me his approval letter from TSA. Finally.

And I sat down and began to squall like an idiot.

After the long day was completed, I came home to an excited hubby (and rightfully so - not a damn thing has gone right in the year we've been married. Nothing but slaps in the face and now finally, APPROVAL!) and my 2 cutie-pie but incredibly energetic step-daughters.

Now, as I sit here in peace and quiet with NO ONE HERE BUT ME (a small miracle), I seem to be fuming at the idea of the impending move. I feel as though it's not a choice I made, but one that was made for me. Yes, I am my own person and I actually don't think it's a bad idea in itself, but the time frame coupled with the possible monetary gain (supposedly the reason we're to move) is just unrealistic. Hubby has a job offer with his brother's company there, and here, there's nothing. Nothing, that is, except a job that I've been with for 3 years, one which pays up to $4,000 for employees' educations after 2 years of service provided you work for them for a year after you complete your education. I had plans made to make use of that little perk. My suggestions of not leaving until that's completed have gone ignored.

I don't even want to think of what kind of shit I'm going to have to deal with from the runt. No friends, new school, 12 years old. Need I elaborate?

I think my real problem with it all is that I am a little resentful. I suppose what I need to do is be more positive - look at the good things for the past 8 months instead of all the bullshit. Say over and over to myself "We will be ok."

So difficult for such a negative bitch like me.

More than one way to skin a blog...

I have a new look - and a new title. Clean, and reflects one of my fav-o-rite things! Not that anyone was linking me, but there's a new link too. Maybe my new look will make me a little more creative.

I just luv luv luv...

...this story!!

Reminds me of my grandfather who was also a man of many pockets, with something in each of them.

Thanks ninja poodles!

Forever searching for the bloom

Spent another Friday evening at the Mink Eye, this one being the anniversary edition. Yes, this Wednesday marks one year that I've been married, and in confidence, I'll tell you - my .01 readers - that these last 2 have been the hardest of my life. And that's saying something. Of course, you wouldn't know because you don't know my life story, and I wouldn't dream of boring you with such, but take it as truth - it's been rough.

In the same sense, I suppose I count it as my most rewarding couple of years in some strange way, being that I made it through without more than a couple of new gray hairs. No one knows better than me that old cliché 'marriage isn't all a bed of roses.' (Such a mild way of putting it - you know, in the like-giving-a-whale-a-tic-tac sort of way. I know - not the correct sort of analogy, but you get my drift.)

My life seems to be more like the flower bed - I keep trying to get the soil right, but each time they won't grow. God knows, the soil gets plenty of organic matter and water, possibly too much from both sides? And sometimes, I feel as if I've just been gardening in true Morticia fashion.

I don't expect to see a perfect sterling - at the risk of sounding like a Poison record, every rose should have it's thorns - but being able to sit back and enjoy a pretty little bloom here and there makes it all worth the effort.

Blessing or curse?

Thanks to Ninja Poodles for the link, I now know that I have a Wuthering Heights sort of personality.

What Classic Movie Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

I don't know if it's a blessing...

Hubby:

What Classic Movie Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

...or a curse.

Thelma for President?

So, internet, what do you think of Commander In Chief? I think it's a fabulous idea for a show, and would have much greater impact if they hadn't cast Geena Davis in the starring role - not that she doesn't play the part well, I actually think she does a great Madame President - but I don't know a soul who can watch it and not think of Thelma as president.

Maybe Louise, never Thelma.

Monday Night Bitch

The weekend didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped...hubby and I went to the Mink Eye to get Pink Eyed, and damned if not a single one of my homies showed up! Not ONE. Dana was supposed to go and in actuality planned to bring her hubby with her, but didn't make it. The boss was out of town on a business something-or-other and couldn't make it, and neither did another one who said she'd try. Dammit. Just ruined my whole weekend, as I spent most of the night and the next day quite worried that maybe I'd said or done something to piss someone everyone off, in addition to the requesite bitch session I listen to on a regular basis from hubby. (No, this weekend was no exception.)

So, as I was saying, the arguing continued this weekend without fail. I offered my endless opinion on his employment situation - or lack of - and he asked if I wanted a divorce.

Jesus.

No, I just want you to get a FUCKING JOB. No, you aren't expected to produce a job, immediately, out of thin air, but you are expected to try. No, looking online is not sufficient! You don't enjoy the fact that you are rejected? Welcome to the world and join the crowd, Skippy. Neither does anyone else, but that doesn't mean they stop trying. A little agorophobic? Well, maybe. But, why isn't your ass glued to the LaZBoy when it's time for Friday night drinks at the pub?

Seriously - am I asking too much?? Really honey, I do love you dearly but after 7 months of this, I'm feeling a little tired, unappreciated, tired, a little used, beyond broke, and incredibly worn down.

And tired.

A new tradition

I think I've started a new tradition - not new in the sense that no one ever does it. It's quite a common thing for folks to meet up on Friday evening at a quiet little hole-in-the-wall bar for a drink or two, but it's new to my circle. Several months ago, hubby and I discovered a little known secret in our sad little town - a quiet little bar just perfect for a couple of drinks to round out the week on Friday evenings. Not crowded, quiet, no seizure-inducing neon signs blinking, and with a great bartender that's there every single time we go. Perfect! I mentioned it at work a time or two and invited a few of my coworkers to join us...and they did. It's become a must every other Friday night. My boss joins us, which is a welcome change - it's good to see her let her hair down (even if it is just a little bit) once in a while. Another one of my coworkers started out with us, but changed shifts so she was unable to go last time but will join us the next time. It's turned out to be more than just a drink on Friday night for me - it's almost a have-to now. It's the only time I get to have any interaction outside of work and home. This is almost sad, as most folks have a few friends that come to visit once in a while - play cards, have dinner, whatever. This is not the case for me. Not to go into long and drawn-out detail, but hubby is a bit of a hermit. I'll leave it at that.

Screw it..it's my blog, I'll detail as much as I want. Hubby is more than a hermit. More along the lines of agorophobic, that is, until it's time to go have a drink. Though, I endure chastizing about never wanting to go anywhere. Why don't I want to go anywhere? Because I'm tired, dammit. I work all week and then come home to listen to an evening of the home complaint department(HCD)from someone that seemingly has nothing to complain about. He's been unemployed since the end of March, and manages not to lose any weight and go out for dinner and drinks fairly often. (Continuing on endlessly in my mind.......)

Anywho, suffice it to say that I do enjoy our evenings out every other Friday night for drinks and dinner with friends, and it's nice to know I'm the cause of a new tradition :)

New Sport: Drunken Blog Reading.

The following came from an actual conversation held in my home this very evening:

Me: "This is hilarious!"
Him: "What?"
Me: "This post at Witt and Wisdom."
Him: "Post? What's 'Witt and Wisdom'?"
Me: "It's a blog I read. Funny as hell."
Him: "What's it say?"
Me: "Well, it's about a new cologne and perfume from Swiss Army. They have Swiss Army for Him and for Her."
Him: "Oh my God. (hiccup) Really?"
Me: "Really. Hold on, there's a link here...I've got to see this."
Him: "What does it say?"
Me:

"Swiss Army is a feminine blend of blue buttercup, daffodil, muget, alpine berries, ginger root, fresh mandarin and crisp green watermint."

Him: (Hiccup)"What? Piss green waternut? What the hell is that? Wait - give me the laptop. I have GOT to google that."
Me: (Much eye rolling) "Nevermind."

30 Minutes later...while watching a Stargate SG-1 rerun...

Him: "You know, (hiccup, belch) when Teal'c makes that face...that one right there, the frown he does when he gets turned down on some mission by General Hammond...he looks like he just ate a turd."
Me: "No more cosmopolitans for you. Ever."

Katrina

My heart goes out to those affected by Katrina. That merciless bitch just destroyed the gulf coast. In her wake, the government response in this advanced society was slow and worrisome. I don't know what to attribute this to - maybe the fact that no one had a disaster plan of that magnitude in place. Watching CNN this morning, I see first hand while reporting from a liquor store on Canal St. they find that all the hard liquor and wine is still in place on the shelves. It's the water, beer and candy that are missing. Speaks volumes.

Living here in South Arkansas, it's uncomfortably close to those kinds of water disasters. My friend Beth and her family were deeply affected. Beth's house suffered water damage that's fixable, but her parents came away from it with only the clothes on their backs and one vehicle.

The nurse part of me cringes when I see the horrible conditions under which the hospitals in that area were forced to operate, as well as when I see the water in which the children played after the storm. There will be lasting effects from this disaster most likely for many years to come.

Please help all you can.

Last evening, I was prouder than proud. My runt, the same runt who just a few years ago believed that working for Wal-mart or McDonalds was tops (now bigger n' better in 7th grade) has voiced his interest in being a VETERINARIAN!!! Lawdy bee, I'm so excited!

Upon some light reading, I find that even them Utah folks can sound more southern than us down here in Arkinsaw. Whodathunkit? Of course, I don't have to be drunk to say something similar. Does that qualify me as "po' white trash"?

Another week another dollar. And far more than a dollar's worth of aggravation from Edif (see previous post). GOD. I was called in the office yesterday so my boss could tell me I'm being a bitch. Well, no shit. If folks can get away with controllable stupidity, why can't I get away with uncontrollable bitchiness? It's a mystery to me too, sister.

Hubby's been working on the boss's new house, kitchen flooring. That's been a blessing in every sense of the word. The money sucks, I mean it's only part-time every-so-often work, but the benefits way outweigh the "OH MY GOD, I'M SORE. Please do everything for me so I can sit and whine" b.s. I have to put up with when he gets home. He's out of the house, he's busy, and not looking for something to fight about. I'll take that over money every time.

Awaiting the approval/decline from TSA for hubby to get a hazardous materials endorsement, I've been searching everything from head to toe of the internet about jobs and housing in Hot Springs. I've come up with very little. I need to find a rent house in a good school district, preferably away from the hustle and bustle of town and if possible, at a good price and one which will not turn my dog away. Must (when moving) live by the 11th commandment: Thou shalt not leave thy dog behind. These requirements have narrowed my search by large margins. I may be reduced to door-to-door begging before it's overwith.

The best part of the week is that I have a fabulous bathroom. Finally. Although I was aghast at the shower curtain the landlord bought (dolphins and the like, though it was nice of him to provide even the shower curtain in an unfurnished house) I am in love with that tiled floor, and the tiled shower, and the new walls (all flowery and shit) and best of all, my newest edition, a GORGEOUS and HUGE pedestal sink which was added today. Seriously, that thing is intimidating. Before, there was a regular sink there and because it didn't have any kind of storage cabinet under it, it was held up with - get this - two table-leg-looking posts. Seriously. I know. Hey - I live Arkansas. That should explain it, and I shall say no more about it.

Vacation!

I'm on vacation this week, and believe me it's a much needed and deserved vacation. It only took a half a day for someone at work to call me about something - I don't know what - I didn't answer the damn phone. Not that it's really a vacation. I don't plan to really go anywhere, just not going to work. My job is a constant source of joy as well as aggravation. Joy working with my patients, aggravation dealing with my employers and coworkers. I honestly don't see how my current supervisor gets to work with her shoes tied every morning. Really, it's a fucking miracle - anyone who can't correctly pronounce her own name...well, you get my drift.

Anyway, back to my vacation - it's not a complete week of vacation. Wednesday and Thursday will be spent sitting in a two-day-long seminar in a Little Rock hotel learning all about MDS as my boss wants me to have some training so I can do a higher paying job while receiving lower pay in case they ever get into a jam without an MDS Coordinator. Just call me back-up. I'd love the job, I just think I ought to get paid for it.

I suppose I sound a bit fussy - and I attribute that to the fact that I'm tired, physically and mentally, and I now have one more thing to worry about. Friday will be spent driving to Hot Springs after my runt gets out of school (first day of 7th grade!!) so we can spend the night there in a hotel and hubby will help his brother move his family into a fancy house on the lake. Why am I going? Just call me back-up. Hubby needs a ride home on Saturday.

Anywho, I get the news last night that hubby, who has been unemployed since MARCH, has been offered a job with his brother's new company driving a truck. In Hot Springs. I am beyond broke, and he wants to move. So last evening, taking all this in, I decided the best way to deal with it was to go to the Mink Eye and have the Stevetender make me a martini. And he did. And he even made me a special drink - a new one for which I was the guinea pig - a Flamingo. QUITE GOOD! My signature drink. Now, if I could only remember how he made it so I can buy all the stuff and have one every night before bed. Malibu Mango, well after that I don't remember much. Suffice it to say it was wonderful, and I'll just have to go to the Mink Eye to get another one. The evening was topped off with an argument (as all evenings are in my household) and at least an hour just laying there in bed before I drifted off.

HAPPY 12TH BIRTHDAY RUNT!!

So what's been going on lately? Well, I'll tell you.

Thursday night, I thought my runt had been kidnapped, killed, lost forever. He went out of town with his best buddy and his parents and the last thing I'd heard was that they'd had a flat and were trying to get it fixed, and calls to their cellphone went unanswered. For hours. I waited and worried until finally I called in to work for the next day and set out for Little Rock to find them, knowing they were on the side of the road somewhere stranded with a dead cellphone. Just then they answered, and all was well. Thank God.

Friday, the boys spent the night with us and we went birthday shopping for the runt. The X-box folks knew what they were doing - anyone who creates a player that's habit forming and then creates games to go with it costing $50 a pop is a genius.

Saturday, hubby, father-in-law and I went to the horse races/casino. I won $75 on the ponies, lost the $5 Harrah's sent me at the casino, and hubby won $260. I suppose we had a pretty good time because Sunday, we went back.

Our bathroom is STILL NOT FINISHED. I will be so glad to have a shower again, I think I may even do a little jig if it ever does get finished. We're just on the cusp of showerdom - the shower wall is about half tiled.

Back to work today, and next week, VACATION!!!!

Just a note...

This is the best place to scarf some barbeque and hear some get-down-on-it-blues if you're ever in Memphis!

The Weekend Goings On

Friday night began with a drink at the Mink Eye Pub, then over to the Corner Cafe for dinner which was surprisingly good. Chicken jack sandwich with onion rings for me, ribeye and fried shrimp for hubby. He says they cook a mean steak. There was a two-man, two-guitar (acoustic and electric) band there, and I quote: "...playing our unique blend of country and rap, which we like to call crap." They opened with Sweet Melissa. I was pleasantly surprised, and would have stayed a little longer if perhaps they hadn't been SO DAMN LOUD, and I hadn't been SO DAMN DRUNK. It's a small place...turn it down a notch, General.

Yesterday, I went to a baby shower...and I must each and every time I say that follow it with "better her than me"...for my cousin, which is more like a niece than a cousin, complete with all the gossip that IS news. And a $62 price tag. Why can't women go shopping for something in particular and stick to the task at hand? I could have easily gotten through that shower with a $25 wrapped box of baby gowns and onesies, but I am physically unable to pass up Clinique Bonus Week. (Trust me - it's worth $15 to find a tube of mascara that won't make your eyes itch.)

Today has house cleaning written all over it. My landlord has just finished my new bathroom floor and it's lovely. Yes, the ceramic tile floor is nice, but the lovely part is having my toilet back in it's rightful place. I still don't have a usable shower. At least the bathtub is in workable order. We'll be getting a new shower surround this week so I should be back in showering business by the weekend if all goes well. The house is a disaster, and I suspect it will be again by the end of this week as well, but it's all worth it to get a mostly remodeled bathroom.

...for the love of money drugs is the root of all evil...

Thursday evening after supper, I received a call from my mother. Her voice was low and sounded quite desparate:

Mom: "What are you doing?"
Me: "Just got through with supper."
Mom: "What have you got planned tonight?"
Me: "Nothing. What's up?"
Mom: "I need you to come over here and help me with something."

And over there I went. She was visibly upset, on the verge of tears. It seems my ungrateful dopehead of a nephew has once again taken full advantage of my mother, and this time, she got the picture all have been trying to paint for her for years. Against all advice, she took him in "because someone has to help him, he's living in his car!" and gave him a place to sleep and bathe, and someone to love him...and she's the only one who would because let me tell you, the little shit is hard to love. He lost a[nother] great job paying good money because he failed yet another drug test. He has a marginal wife, a beautiful daughter and step-son, and they live with her mother because he can't keep them in a house due to his drug problem. This isn't the first time he's screwed up. It's an ongoing thing - a few years ago, I found out that he'd pawned my dad's rifle - now this was after I'd several times told him that if he needed money, and even thought about pawning that gun, to come to me - never to let it get out of his hands - so I went to the pawnshop and bought it back. God knows we didn't get much of his after he died, and damned if I was going to let that go. It's an ongoing siege with this little heathen.

Actually, the other part of this story starts several years ago when my grandfather was going headstrong into Parkinsonism. When he could still walk and talk, and was on medication to control trembles, along with another to control the hallucinations the tremble medication causes. He began to obsess with paranoia that someone was stealing his silver coin collection. So, my mother catalogued it all and took it to her house for "safekeeping" in an attempt to alleviate his worries. Since then, it's sat in 3 drawers in my mother's unused den safe and sound. Until Thursday.

"He's been stealing daddy's silver. We have to count it, and then I have to call the police and report it."

So count we did until just after 9pm. So the outcome is actually better than it could have been - there's only appx. 300 coins in silver dimes, and silver and clad halves and dollar pieces, as well as a 10 tr. oz. bar gone - no, not $300 worth - I mean 300 coins. God knows what it's actually worth in monetary value, and there's no price that can be quoted on the sentimental value. None of it's been appraised or priced, or whatever you do with coins.

I have worried and figited over it all day, and decided to just go get it and put it in a box at the bank after work yesterday. God knows who he's told about this stash, and what those little ingrates might do for it.

I feel much better now.

And so does mom.

My grandfather would have been heartbroken by my nephew's actions, and his words. Thank God he isn't here to see it. All my nephew has to say about the whole thing is "I needed the money bad and I knew you wouldn't give it to me, so I took it, but I didn't steal it." Now...I may not be the most intelligent person, but what is the definition of stealing? He had the audacity to say "none of my family give a damn about me" when my mother asked him why he did it. I can't imagine how someone could be so disrespectful of their family, especially the few who've tried over and over when no one else would or should to help. What a disgrace.

What an addict.

What a shame.

Smoother Sailing

As of now, things seem to be moving much smoother between hubby - this after a "come to Jesus meeting" we had Friday evening. I asked why make such a horrible comment if not just to get back at me, a comment made defensively. I got the answer I expected, that there was no other reason. I explained that something like that could very well show the commenter to seem untrustworthy and verbally abusive, and I didn't intend to be married to someone with either of those qualities. As a result, there was an apology followed by lunch at Macaroni Grill and shopping in Little Rock on Saturday.
I imagine the shopping excursion was meant to show the great lengths and sacrifice hubby is willing to go to just for lil' ol' me. And I took full advantage: A very busy mall on Saturday afternoon in July. Bath and Body Works (producing sensory overload in dear allergy-ridden hubby) and window shopping in Zales, Friedmans, Oxford, and any other jewelry store within eye shot. Save for Rashid and his carload of future jihadists making me momentarily nervous, it's safe to say I had a good time.

The runt called twice yesterday, once while I was at work and busy and again last night. He seems to be having a good time and judging from the fact that he usually calls to check in with me only because someone's parent tells him to and this time that was not the case, he must be missing mom just a bit. And for this, I'm grateful. Maybe he's getting ready to come home for a bit before school starts. And he better be - he's got to have shots!! Speaking of which, so do I this week, so I better get to it. More later.

Cruel Words

Last night, my husband uttered words to me that were totally and completely .... well, I can't think of a word horrid enough to describe this particular phrase: "I have no doubt now why (your ex) cheated on you."

Yes, even more hateful than when he uttered this.

Let me just say that I thought disparaging comments about your past marriages were off limits. Men can be such hateful fucking animals. On purpose, no less.

Never underestimate the power of pussy. Or, the lack of. It's no wonder why some women just finally decide to completely live without a man in their lives. Or gay.

Purposeful cruelty, I've decided, is a male trait. Along with the selfish gene.

Bitch, bitch, bitch.

I took the day off Thursday to hang around the house and spend a little time with the runt before his 2-week+ trip to his dad's this summer. Unfortunately, I was unable to get him home that day (he's been at a friend's house most of the summer and having a blast, they're more like brothers than brothers are) and spent the day doing much needed housework. I must say I enjoyed the day - I'm one of those who likes her "alone time" even if it's spent doing housework. Thursday night, I called ex-hubby and spoke with him about letting the runt bring his "brother" with him on his 2-week+ trip, to which he replied "I'm sure there's no problem with it" After we hung up, he called the runt at his friend's house and told him he was sorry but there was no room for his friend.

WHAT A CROCK OF SHIT.

Here's my version: He hung up with me, talked to his current roostruler who told him she just didn't see how they had the room would be damned if she would agree with something I suggested, and then he called the runt and gave him her answer. After the runt called me and told me this information, I spoke with ex again. His story was certainly different than when I'd spoke with him before, giving me all sorts of bullshit excuses about how they were going to pick up a friend from the airport Sunday blah blah blah children blah blah blah carseats blah blah blah won't all fit blah blah blah my new truck blah blah blah to which I went directly on mental irritation overload (M.I.O.) and basically replied with 'oops...sorry, I must have given you the idea that I gave a shit about your life, nevermind.'

Friday, though, I did go and pick up the runt, who moped around the house until I agreed to let him go to the skating rink with his "brother", after which they both came here and spent the night.

So, he left Saturday morning without his friend, and I'm left here with 3 different 'things': #1. Hubby #2. My 2 cutie pie step-daughters who are with us for a week, and #3. The worry of what kind of shit my ex is trying to put into the runt's head during this 2-week+ visit, such as how much nicer it would be to live there. It's about time for this line of conversation - the property agreement in our divorce decree states that in lieu of child support, he is to pay the payment on my truck until it's paid off which happens in December of this year, after which he's to pay me $400 a month. I would suspect that the new wifey isn't too happy about the $460 he's putting out on my ride now, much less having to send it directly to me after December.

My opinion is that she should, instead of being such a disagreeable bitch, thank me for turning him loose - otherwise, she'd still be just another chick on the "extracarricular ho's I fuck around with while I'm away from my wife on the road" list. I mean, come on - I made it possible for them to carry it further than just internet and phone sex...I gave them the ability to do it in person - in public - make it legal!!

Props to my friend/coworker, Dana for buying her first house! Good luck and congrats to you, girlie!

Happy Father's Day

When I was in elementary school, my mother worked until 4:30pm so the school bus would drop me off at the dry cleaners my grandparents owned and operated, and there I stayed until my mom got off work. There, I learned all the finer points of how to search pockets for anything and everything, and how to tell the difference between silver and clad coins, and silver certificates and plain paper money. My job was to search the coins and pick out the pieces that were silver. "Just look at the edge of the coin, and if it's all one silver color, it's a keeper!" And search I did. And find I did! And those lucky coins went into a cardboard box held together on the sides with masking tape under the counter.

Those pockets were full of things - baggies rolled longways of green dry grassy looking stuff with little seeds, and plastic rappers unopened with something unidentified but round inside clearly marked "TROJAN" that I would not until years later appreciate. Pictures. Money! Papers. Receipts. Safety pins. Rubber bands. Anything and everything, I tell you. And after teaching me the ins and outs of coin and pocket searching, we'd go to the Wag-a-Bag down the street and he'd buy me a coke and some candy, and sometimes, on the way back to the shop, he might make a stop in the 'hood and offer a little old black lady in a dumpy little shack (from which the delectable smell of true soul food radiated) a little money for an antique piece of heaven socked away on some dusty shelf behind a dull picture of a black Jesus. Most had no idea what they had, nor did they care until he seemed interested.

My grandfather was a hard-working business owner for over 40 years, and enjoyed collecting antiques (or as he called it "junk huntin'"),was an avid painter, and a master at woodworking from the most beautiful and functional pieces he fashioned for my grandmother to showcase her collections of porcelain dolls and carnival glass to whimsical and fun pieces such as the carousel horse that sits in my living room and the best wooden likenesses I've ever seen and people have raved over for years - cartoon characters, like Odie and Garfield, and Snoopy.

I wish I could remember all the pieces he's made over the years - the dark wood vanity table he made for me, complete with mirror and flip-up top - inside which was a brilliant blue felt covering, and a piece stitched in the middle which read "Happy 12th Birthday" in dark zig-zag stitch - a perfect gift for a 12-yr-old girl just beginning to use make-up and needing a place to put it all. My mother has it in her bedroom now. The cabinet he made for my sister whose house, at the time, was decorated in a santa fe motif, and this piece made it all come together - shades of green and terracotta, with zig-zaggy cut-outs and a howling wolf - and it came with a smaller box with cut-outs showing her choice of decor. These pieces were made especially for her need to have a place to put her stereo, albums, cd's, and video tapes. The toy boxes that each of the great-grandsons received, my son's for his 1st birthday, with his name in wood cut-outs and in great peepaw tradition, something different on each one - my son's had pictures of toys decoupage-style strategically placed and big rope handles on each side with a brass handle on the lid. My older nephew's had stirrups on the side and a saddle horn for the handle on the lid. The gun cabinet he and the same nephew built when he came of age and began to love hunting as any self respecting southerner should - masculine, with brass catches and hinges.

These things were built with love.
And it showed.

Many days I remember spending with him in his wood shop, 'helping' to build something. Anything. Little wooden toy cars and trucks, and the wheels rolled - and the dump trucks dumped. All wooden pieces. I played with them, and my son played with them as did my nephews when they were small. Yeah, I knew my grandmother was in the house cooking something that was bound to be delicious as was everything she cooked, but who wanted to cook? I wanted to be in the woodshop.

And how about those little wooden stand-alone cabinet boxes he built for both my grandmother and mother - the ones with little compartments to house everything to make coffee with, the water pitcher that goes with the Bunn coffeemaker, filters, etc. and finished off with a heart-shaped-beveled-on-the-back handle to open the little doors. And that's not even the half of it.

And he had an even softer side - the one only my grandmother saw, and seldom spoke about.

Except with her eyes.
And her smile.
Every time she looked at him.
But we saw it.

My grandfather, a once strong and absolutely wonderful man, was ravaged by Parkinsonism coupled with Lewy Body Disease and recently passed away. I miss him dearly, and will always possess a deep love and respect for him and the kind of man he was. The kind we all are/would be infinitely blessed to have had in our lives.

Happy Father's Day PeePaw. We all miss you.

Items of note this week:
-I didn't get the ring. Someone had already bought it. Dammit.
-Took my grandmother to the doctor & filled her car up with gas. Yes folks, she is one of those fragilities that still doesn't fill up her own tank.
-Friday night - Cosmopolitians, Crown & Coke. Hubby did drunken karaoke. Hell's Bells. At a very country-redneck-sort-of club. The joint was brimming with all of about 9 people.
-Talked to Lori yesterday.

As I scan the blogosphere, I find some funny stuff. The Bleat and Dooce are two of my daily favs:

"...if most vampires were pale gangly nerds who spoke in falsettos, “Interview With a Vampire” would be one page long, and consist of two questions: have you ever operated a deep fryer before, and can you start Monday?"

"This coming from a woman who would wash a TIRE IN A WASHING MACHINE and who only moments ago reached her hand into her bra to dig out half-chewed basmati rice. You’re making perfect sense."

The perfect ring.

I found the perfect ring today. A jewelery store in our fair town is going under and has a "last 4 days" sale going on during which most of the stock is 90% off. 90%. That like NEVER happens. All during our engagement I looked and looked for a ring that I was happy with. I suppose it's a simple ring, solitaire, preferably princess cut. My only stipulation was it can have no huge jump-out-at-you-flaws in it. It quickly came to me that this ring doesn't exist in my budget. I got a plain band instead, and decided I'd magically happen upon what I wanted later (knowing full well that what I wanted would NEVER be in my price range.)

UNTIL NOW. I found it. Perfect - clear stone, 1/2 carat, princess cut, beautiful setting. Regular $1500, now $153 + tax. Do you hear me? I mean COME ON! HOW OFTEN DOES THIS HAPPEN? Not often enough, I can tell you that. The timing sucks ass. However, I can tell you this - I will have that ring, come hell or high water, if they still have it tomorrow afternoon when I get off work.

WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?

Congratulations!
Your IQ score is 129.
This number is based on a scientific formula that compares how many questions you answered correctly on the Classic IQ Test relative to others.
Your Intellectual Type is Facts Curator. This means you are highly intelligent and have picked up an impressive and unique collection of facts and figures over the years. You've got a remarkable vocabulary and exceptional math skills.

So, am I reasonably intelligent or completely stupid, or what? 129 in relation to what, or who? Dammit.

Hubby starts school this Monday, hopefully a sign of future paychecks to come. [Incidentally - his IQ? 124.*]

In the things I've learned about men catagory: A man without a job will, after a couple of months, decide his wife is satan and blame her for all that isn't right in his life, and make issue with every single thing.

Yes.

Everything.

Including unfilled ice trays.

Ice trays* - you know, those things in the freezer that we fill with water because we have no icemaker.

*I have no doubt intelligence is hubby's strong suit - he's a freaking brain with arms and legs - but, I simply must milk the IQ thing for all it's worth.

What comes around goes around.

Remember when I was trying to balance a new marriage with 4 college courses? Courses that took time to do the work I was capable of, and that were worthy of my time, and the patience and understanding of a spouse who truly cares about his mate, and would want the best for said mate, their lives together, and the fruits that these courses would soon bring said lives. Momentarily after registering for these classes, I would decide that 4 classes was too much, what with working full-time and trying to be a good new wife, and 2 of those classes could wait. So I dropped them, and finished the other two. And may I say, that was some difficult shit. Not because the courses were difficult. They were easy - it was my home life and the handfuls of shit I was dealt on a daily basis that made it hard as hell. But, bygolly, I finished.

Soon after, I was placed on academic probation because one of the classes I dropped was a basic studies course, and upon my next registration, I'd be forced to complete that course before I'd be allowed non-basic studies courses. I decided I'd go back and take 2 more. The daily dose of shit followed - this time, in greater quantities, and soon, I decided it wasn't worth the emotional turmoil.

So I quit.

And I will probably resent my decision and the actual reason I made that decision until I die. However, being that I try to be one that doesn't particularly dwell on upset, I file this away in the "we were newlyweds, and stupid" file, and go on.

Qué será será.

Until recently.

Hubby decided he'd go back to school.

I'll bet that when men do and say things, they don't expect to later be bitten in the ass by their own bullshit. When it happens, oh, it's a sweet and savory thing.

In a "see how it feels?" sort of way.

Only to be rivaled by the first super-sized bite of sesame chicken.

Since losing a couple of our weekend-only folks, much to my dismay, I find I'll be working some weekends. I hate it. This weekend, I was lucky enough to find someone who wanted to work one of my days. So yesterday instead of working, hubby and I schlepped on down to Monroe for the day and ate at The Olive Garden, then did a little bargain shopping at Sam's Club. Wish I had more money to buy miles of discount toilet paper by the yard and coffee creamer by the gallon. Oh, how I do love a good bargain. Today, I'll be working and NOT going to my yearly family reunion. I wish I could say I'll be missing that annual potluck feast, but they pissed me off last year so I think working will be more fun. Afterall, there is no monetary gain from family reunions.

Bleep-thhhh-pfft (unfortunately, R2D2 can't be translated here)

I was off yesterday, which was a good time for hubby and I to go see sith. I decided to take the elusive runt and his friend with us. It was a good movie if you like the seemingly endless Star Wars saga, and even had all the chick-flick-elements, so girls, this is a two for one. I for one was glad to see how it all came together, Anakin and Padme. Ok, enough of that. Don't want to spoil!

My sister it seems has found herself again (newly single). My good wishes to her, and more on this at a later date.

The force is strong with this one

It's nice to know Julia's back. Her stories are almost a comfort to me, knowing there'll be something great to read when I have the time to blog-read. Whether she's jetting off to a foreign country just to get away from it all, or decapitating nice young men just to get a mental grope from a pair of famous eyebrows, whatever you find, you can bet it's going to be interesting.

And funny - let's not forget funny.

In honor of Sith opening in our fair town, the last couple of days, we've begun the trek* of watching "Star Wars", episodes IV, V, and VI. Why? I don't know. It would seem to make sense to watch episodes I and II first, right? Then, IV, V, and VI. Well, actually I do know. Episodes I and II were out at the video store. What the hell is wrong with the pay movie channels?? Shouldn't those first two be showing back to back constantly right now on one of them? They probably are - I've just missed them. Anyway, needless to say, we are certainly space and force conscious at my house. My husband, being the sci-fi nut that he is, we can't help but to be. We use the force to do everything - from fixing a bowl of cereal to doing the laundry. It's a damn good thing there's no light sabre in my home, which brings me to my next subject.

On the dark side (using the force, of course), might I offer up a bit of advice to any married male readers out there: Be aware that invoking the phrase "...and you need to lose some weight. Let's just throw that one in there too while we're at it" during an already stressful conversation arguement ugly fight about why you aren't getting any at the moment may induce many more sleepless nights.

Do what you will, gentlemen, but before you shove your foot in your mouth, be sure your right hand is your best friend.

Serve you well, it will.**

* Wrong movie. Sorry, it just slipped out.
**Forgive me for using Yoda-speak. Just seems like it fits.

You know, I could sit here waxing on about the senate judiciary standoff and how the republicans are hellbent on having it their way whether it's right or wrong, or I could lament on how incredibly rich "Sith" is making Mr. Lucas, but no. It's my blog, and I think I'll just whine about my own life.

Thank you very much.

But, it'll have to be later because I've just spent all the time I have to whine looking up what's going on with the senate and "Sith".

Another night shrouded in "what are we going to watch tonight?"

This one, though, thwarted with Evil Alien Conquerors. I can't imagine who would belong to a fan club of this movie, but apparently there is such a club, as I saw during my search for the link. A scary thought.

And then, on to In The Heat Of The Night.

As I watch, my mind wanders to what ever happened to my girlfriends. Comrades. Buddies. We're all married now and have very different lives, and new friends. I miss Lori, my best buddy, and wish we lived closer to eachother and could go out once in a while. Have a drink. A girls' night. A few laughs.

Ahhh.

...and this is good news! Glad to know I'll be reading fresh Julia soon. Thanks sass!

Where, oh where has my Julia gone? Where, oh where can she be??

Maybe a meme will find her.

And oh my God. CW's leaving too?

This is not good.

Where Was I?

Oh - the cruise. Well, it was certainly not what I'd hoped it would be, what with all the advertisements of "Las Vegas styled shows" and such. Maybe I blinked, but I didn't see the first Las Vegas style show aboard. However, the food was to die for, as long as we ate in the dining room (the buffet was....well, a buffet. You got what you'd expect from a buffet) and the dining itself paid for the trip. Mexico was beautiful, the weather was marginal.

Hubby was seasick most of the time, and on the way home, caught some sort of stomach virus, thus, making our vacation suck considerable ass.

For me, at least.

And anyone else within earshot, I fear.

So, I'm pleased to present to you the Do's and Don'ts of cruising:

DO take a couple of days extra, b.c. and a.c.* to see the scenery and casino hop if driving to the embarkation port. This time may very well prove to be the best part of your vacation during retrospection.

DON'T intend to board quickly. I don't care if you complete some V.I.P. quick boarding pass thingy online, my hand to God, 100 year old turtles will be unpacked and having a drink on the lido deck before you take the first step on board.

DO attempt to procure drink inclusive tickets for your cruise. If not, your ticket will include all your meals, and drinks, except WHAT YOU CAME TO DRINK.

DON'T use your credit card to set up your sail and sign account while on board, unless of course you have plenty of money to blow, or intend to be sober enough to keep tabs on what you're spending at all times. You will sign for EVERYTHING you buy on the ship. Cash is needed only for the casino.

If you want a robe in your room, DO procure an outside cabin for your cruise. They don't tell you this ahead of time, and if you want cute little robe-animals to be waiting on you each night when you retire, you'll be disappointed if you have an inside cabin. However, it should be noted that you will have towel animals awaiting your return each night and if your trip is anything like mine was, this will be enough to keep up a smile in spite of personal despair.

DON'T assume you'll need a book or fancy electronic translator to get along in Cozumel. Everyone speaks english. Most better than you do.

DO 'accidentally' leave the price tags on everything you buy for family and friends. The exchange rate is about 10 pesos for 1 dollar, and the symbol for peso is $ so everyone will be muy impressed when they see their Cozumel t-shirt cost you $50, or the post card you mailed them (which won't arrive until 3 weeks after you've returned from your trip) cost you $10.50 in

DO visit Senor Frog's or Carlos and Charlie's while in Cozumel. Order a shot. I dare you.

DON'T plan your trip to Mexico during Spring Break week, unless of course you are in high school or college at the time. If you're celebrating your 35th birthday, this will NOT make you feel younger, but will in fact have quite the opposite effect.

DO save every drink umbrella you get - these work wonders for those people you forgot to buy gifts for.

DON'T assume that the ship is large enough to or has stabilizers that will inhibit your ability to feel any rocking or wave motion. You're on a boat. It's in the ocean. THERE WILL BE MOVEMENT, people.

*b.c. - before cruise, a.c. - after cruise

I'm still here. Barely. I just got over a nasty case of pneumonia during which I had 5 consecutive days off. Definitely the best part of being sick. That never happens! It was a bittersweet kind of nice, but nice none the less - God knows I needed the rest.

News - We're going on a cruise! I'm entirely too excited for words! I have purchased my dress, shoes and purse for the 'dressy night' aboard the ship, and look forward to having a great time. I've never been on a vacation before - so this will be quite a milestone for me. Mexico will be just wonderful, I'm sure of it. Any of you guys with experience with Cozumel and vacationing, shoot me a comment and give me some ideas of what to do with a few hours ashore!

As I sit and wonder what in the hell I could have done to render myself non-ambulatory (among other various ponderings), I find myself watching reruns of Sex and the City. Thank God for TBS, as there are a few episodes which I missed.

As mentioned in a much eariler-dated post, I've recently remarried. I have learned many things from marriage in general. I am finding out lately I have a lot more to learn.

So, in honor of my evening of TV watching and Nilla Wafer binging, and because it coincides with my life at present, in true Carrie fashion I must ask what are we fighting about?

The answers seem to be endless.

Q: "What do you want to eat for lunch?"
A: "I dunno. Whatever you'd like to have. You pick."

This, for some ungodly reason, sparks an arguement.

One of us works a full-time evening-shift job and has 2 daughters which spend every-other-weekend with us. The other of us works full-time days, goes to school 2 evenings a week, takes an online college class, is a full-time mother, and as of today, is pretty much stationary to the couch because of an unknown back injury. So, which one of us should clean up the house and make a stab at reducing the laundry pile?

That's ok, no answer required.

Is it absolutely necessary to plan an entire day to the minute the day before? We're talking a movie and a quick supper here, people. Not a formal resturaunt and the opera.

What's wrong with a man returning an item to Wal-mart, ordering lunch over the phone and/or picking it up at a place with no drive-thru window, or eating supper once a night - before 11pm?

Again, no answer required.

I have a great-looking, intelligent and loving husband whom I trust implicitly - which, in my experience, is damn well difficult to come by. I'm thankful for him and adore him completely.

These things are not to be questioned.

What's the answer? Another good question.

On a lighter note, the movie of interest this week was Racing Stripes. Cute show! The flies....too funny!

Merry Belated Christmas, and Happy Belated New Year, everyone!!!

A new post to follow soon...