All Hallow's Eve: 2005

So the party is over, my self-imposed stress relieved. How did it go you ask? Here are some of the highlights:

• My 57 year old mother playing the drinking game “Tippy Cup” while my 21 year old sister chants “faster Mom, faster”
• The pregnant nun and myself singing something in this horrible falsetto and laughing so hard I almost peed my pants
• Aunt Teeny Weeny complaining that her girdle snaps were itching her crotch
• My dear, young sis bumping and grinding with the mayors daughter to some funk in my living room
• The numerous dents in my kitchen table from an attempted game of quarters. Turns out my table is too soft for a decent bounce.
• Thing 1 verifying the carpet matched the drapes (you’d have to see pictures to understand this one) CORRECTION: Thing 2, not Thing 1 - the difference is explained in the comments
• My lovely fairy friend, our dear Duchess Jane, singing the Dixie Chick classic “Ready to Run” with me on my karaoke machine
• Brian’s feeble attempts to remain standing, befitting his rock star persona

Below are a few pics from the evening, for more visit Duchess Jane’s site. You will easily be able to find the Thing 1 shot mentioned above.

Three Wishes

I saw a commercial on TV last night for a new program called Three Wishes. I pondered a bit…if I had three wishes, what would they be?

1. To end hunger.
2. To immunize all children from preventable disease.
3. To abolish FGM, honor killings, bride burnings, female infanticide, rape, dowry deaths, acid attacks and all other violent crimes committed against women, girls and babies everyday.

It was very hard to come up with only three. Of course I want to cure AIDS, to end the war, to provide homes and medicine to those in need, to teach the world tolerance and acceptance of those who are different from themselves, to have one more conversation with that special someone I cannot, for my children to have healthy, happy and fulfilled lives, for my mortgage to be paid off, etc.

I chose the three I did simply because the idea of someone being hungry every moment, people fading of malnutrition startles me. I can’t imagine my child crying because they haven’t eaten in days and having nothing to give them. The idea of children dying moment to moment from polio, the flu, tetanus, rubella, measles, pertussis, diphtheria because they haven’t received immunizations that cost dimes and nickels to produce is shocking. Knowing young girls are being mutilated with rusty razors and broken glass by those who should be protecting them, knowing babies are being thrown away just because they’re born female, knowing women are attacked as retaliation for a family members disrespect, knowing all this violence takes place everyday sickens me. So these are my wishes today.

What are your three wishes?

Poor, Poor SugarLips

I know I promised something positive, but Jeff called me at work around 10:00 a.m. to let me know SugarLips had a 102.5 temperature. He brought him up here to the TLC Sick Bay, the ill child daycare at my place of employment, where at last check he was napping peacefully following a lunch of Mac N' Cheese and oranges. Nothing serious, just a weirdly high fever and running nose. I'm pretty lucky...the Sick Bay is run by my Mom's best friend whom I have known over 15 years. Mr. Lips is in great, and trusted, hands.

Poor guy, I hope he's back to his jolly ol' self soon.

Feeling a Bit Off

Ever have those days or weeks you just felt a bit off? I’m going to work everyday, performing my duties with a smile. Went to the grocery, have made a good, hot meal for the kids every night. Helped with homework, cleaned my house. Last night alone I scrubbed by stovetop for 45 minutes, removing what had to have been a years worth of cooked on black crap. For some strange reason I have felt…what should I call it…

Discombobulated.

That describes it! Having self-possession upset; thrown into confusion. Let’s try to come up with some possible causes for this state, shall we?

• Our annual All Hallow’s Eve party is this Saturday and I always stress before it. What if no one shows up? What if I run out of beer? Or food? What if it’s boring? What if it rains? Please note, I have been having this party for years and it has always been well attended, plenty of alcohol and food, dancing and singing in my living room and has never rained.
• I still have no costume for the above mentioned party. This is very unlike me. I will normally have my costume ready no less than 3 months in advance. Not sure why, but this year I am feeling uninspired and uncreative.
• I was in a car accident this summer and am being called by bill collectors wanting their money pretty regularly. The insurance company for the prick who pulled out in front of me called Monday with a settlement offer that will barely pay off my bills. Do I settle and move on or do I call a lawyer and draw it out two more years? Also, will the $10,000 in unpaid medical bills, in my name, affect our plans to move this spring? This is stressing me out.

I could go on, but typing this is depressing me. I am requiring myself to come up with something positive for my next posting. What is it our mothers always told us? If you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all.

Sisters, Sisters...There Were Never Such Devoted Sisters

Following much internal debate, I have decided to give one of my family members the address to this blog site. Several of them have gotten wind of the fact this site exists and have not been pleased when I decline to give the address. Their first reaction, to be expected I guess, is "Why not? Do you bad mouth your family on it?" You would think they know by now that if I have something negative to say about them, I have no reservations saying it directly to them. Some people never learn.

Why keep it secret? Maybe I just like the idea of remaining slightly anonymous for awhile. Maybe I relish in the power of knowing I have something others want. Maybe I want to talk about my sex life and would feel weird mentioning my husband’s “magic hands” knowing my mother would read it. I can see the “Oh, Jennifer” look on her face now just thinking about it. Maybe I just suck at sharing.

My sister called me yesterday afternoon and asked me what the address was, telling me how she had been searching for 45 minutes to no avail. Following many refusals, she finally retreated and I could sense the disappointment in her voice as she said goodbye. I suddenly realized what I tell my girls all the time…there is nothing more important than sisters. So with the promise she will not give my secrets to our parents, I have decided to share. But remember dear sis, the five-year rule is up on many things I know about you and will retaliate if warranted.

Just to keep in the spirit of “sisters” I have also decided to include a picture of her that she may not have chosen to post on the Internet…but what the hell…I have to retain my power in some capacity.

Five Reasons...I Love The West Wing

• It’s smarter than I am.
• President Bartlet (Martin Sheen): He’s flawed. He regularly speaks in Latin and the show provides no subtitles. He’s a Democrat. He plays poker. He smokes when he’s stressed. His humor is dry. He rarely apologizes. He’s oxymoronic…at times arrogant, at others humble.
• CJ Craig’s (Allison Janey) wit.
• I don’t always know what is going to happen. The campaigning candidates for the soon to be open seat are an agnostic republican who supports abortion rights and a Catholic, Hispanic democrat that has a recovered drug addict and alcoholic for a running mate. Your guess is as good as mine, tune in to see.
  
• The dialogue, which I have admittedly plagiarized. For instance:

President Bartlet:I like how you call homosexuality an abomination.

Jenna Jacobs: I don't say homosexuality is an abomination, Mr. President, the Bible does.

President Bartlet: Yes, it does. Leviticus.

Jenna Jacobs: 18:22.

President Bartlet: Chapter and verse. I wanted to ask you a couple of questions while I have you here. I'm interested in selling my youngest daughter into slavery as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. She's a Georgetown sophomore, speaks fluent Italian, always cleared the table when it was her turn. What would a good price for her be? While thinking about that, can I ask another? My Chief of Staff Leo McGarry insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly says he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself or is it okay to call the police? Here's one that's really important because we've got a lot of sports fans in this town: touching the skin of a dead pig makes one unclean. Leviticus 11:7. If they promise to wear gloves, can the Washington Redskins still play football? Can Notre Dame? Can West Point? Does the whole town really have to be together to stone my brother John for planting different crops side by side? Can I burn my mother in a small family gathering for wearing garments made from two different threads? Think about that, will you? One last thing, while you may be mistaking this for your monthly meeting of the Ignorant Tight-Ass Club, in this building, when the President stands, nobody sits.

Proud Mom Posting

These are either my daughters, Doody and Mimi, or what appears to be Mary-Kate and Ashley Olson impersonators.

It's Not How It Sounds

Words I spoke this morning...

"Hey, I'm a 4-port girl now."

I'm Gay, OK?

So I'm reading Dr. Phil , because I never watch but always read, and the title of the show is "I'm Gay, OK?" His last guests were a young, ignorant couple with some concerns regarding their 4-year old son. Apparently he enjoys playing with dolls, staring at himself in the mirror, wearing his mother’s jewelry and high heels around the house, putting his hands on his hips and brushing his hair. They are very concerned he is "walking into a gay lifestyle" and his mother is a self-proclaimed homophobic.

I'm wondering...should I be concerned that my daughter Mimi is a lesbian because she likes to play in the mud with Hot Wheels? Does my daughter Doody’s desire to play sports mean she’s butch? My two-year old son, SugarLips, watches me put on my make-up and always asks for some “bush” (blush) on his cheeks…will he become a transsexual because I comply with his request? Was I not born a heterosexual, but chose to be based on my upbringing and selection of toys as a toddler?

I going to go out on a limb here and say no.

Cute Husbands...

My good friend Green Bean shared this old, awesome pic of her dashingly handsome husband with me the other night. (I'll admit I've got a little crush on Dan now - the pork chop sideburns used to give me a warm fuzzy feeling, but the long hair has me on FIRE!)

Jane has a pic on her site she simply describes as "yummy". I assume this is a dish she has tasted and enjoyed quite a bit.

I looked around and found this old shot of my husband and felt the need to share. We were seventeen at the time, but he still looks exactly the same to me - he can melt me with that smile.

Is it odd to say my husband is prettier than I am?

Introducing Schweaty Man

Let me introduce you to one of my beloved co-workers: Schweaty Man. He is a republican, reservist, Boy Scout leader. He believes it is okay for the winning football team to take a knee with ninety seconds left on the clock and is a die hard Toby “we’ll put a boot in your ass, it’s the American way” Keith fan. Regardless of many of these things we actually get along swell. The day we discussed the Boy Scouts, I voiced my regret that if my son is gay he would not be welcome. He shared his idea that if my son is gay “he can go and create his own little troop”. Needless to say, we have respectfully agreed to disagree on many subjects.

Today, I overhear Schweaty Man and another tech discussing crime and punishment. They are verbalizing their disdain that when the jails are too full some detainees are released to make room for others. Their solutions were to either a) put them all on an island or b) shoot them. I suddenly think I am in a room with either Charlton Heston or my step-father. They continue their discussion now on capital punishment. Schweaty Man shared his view on how someone convicted of rape should be dealt with. It went something like this…lock them in an outhouse, take a rusty nail and put it in an orifice to remain unnamed, give them a dull knife and set the outhouse on fire. At this point I begin calling out “Dad, dad…where are you…I can hear you, but can’t see you”.

Schweaty Man disregarded me with his comment “don’t mind her, she’s one of those huggers.” HELLO…does no one listen to me? I do not like huggers, they frighten me.

Doesn't anyone get me?

Three Drafts and Counting

I don't normally have what I would refer to as "bad days" at work, but alas today would qualify. Shall we begin? Mondays are typically very busy at my place of employment. I work at an IT helpdesk and for some reason Monday is the day everything goes wrong and the calls come flooding in. Most of you would be flabbergasted at the number of people who forget their passwords over the two day weekend. (That is all of you but Green Bean who seems to have issues with her passwords also). So basically, I arrive to work on Monday's prepared for lots of calls and a busy day. The following items would fall under the unexpected category:

I spend twenty minutes composing my first real posting for my all new blog (on break of course) and am ready to publish. Excitement is pulsing through my veins…one click away from putting something out there I am sure at least two people will read. Suddenly I hear announced overhead, “Internet Explorer is status one, Internet Explorer is status one”. Poof…all of my typing and thoughts wiped away with one unexpected server reboot. I tell myself to buck up and try again at lunch.

I realize it’s only 10:30 a.m. and I have already taken more calls than I would on any other Monday. Christ, does the phone ever stop ringing? I haven’t even read the news yet. (To explain, we were one man short today and the planets were apparently aligned to kick my ass.)

Ah, lunch…finally I can get back to my posting. I take advice from my fellow bloggers Duchess Jane and Bombadee and decide this time I will compose in notepad or Word, then just cut and paste. Of course since all of my brain power for the day was given to the idiot who couldn’t understand the difference between a PC and a monitor, I had forgotten my previously conceived “Twenty Random Facts” and had to start anew. I work on it for awhile and get a full page typed in Word. Then I decide to take a break and eat my tacos; after all a girl has to eat. Suddenly I notice my fucking PC blue screens on me. I just sit for a moment watching my PC go through this weird cycle of blue screening and restarting over and over again, wondering if the mouse cord and drop ceiling could bear my weight. I ask the twenty-something redhead I work with, Sparky, if he messed with my PC while I was getting my tacos. He tells me no and for some reason today I believe him; after all he has had the same crappy day I have. I decide to hard boot the bitch.

Not only am I able to reboot and logon with no problems but my event log is clear. What the hell happened? Then it occurred to me. Earlier in the day the manger for the networking department (my boss’s boss) came in with this shit-eating grin on his face and told us he put out a new screen saver for our department only and to tell him what we think. My place of employment has an automatic locked down screen saver that initiates after ten minutes of idle. Well he’s thinking how funny would it be if I created a screen saver that looked like your PC was restarting and blue screening over and over again? Funny right? Ha ha, fooled you, right? OH MY GOD, I’M GOING TO KILL HIM!

You may be thinking, no big deal when I open Word my draft would be there. Actually, I find it annoying how Word auto-saves every ten minutes so I had turned that setting off some time ago. Long story short (that’s for you Jane) draft two of my first big posting is wiped with my reboot. Is this a sign? Am I not meant to blog? Is it over before it even begins?
I decide to take destiny into my own hands and compose my posting directly in my dashboard this time; let the chips fall where they may. It seems to have worked, but my twenty random facts posted below would be draft #3.

I could go on and on with the rest of my day, but the love of my life will be home soon and I am determined to keep this address secret from him for the time being so I must post and log off. The rest of my evening will be spent trying to figure out how to retaliate against my boss’s boss without getting canned.

By the way, this posting was typed in Word with the auto save re-enabled.

MISSING

If anyone sees my patience, please let me know. I seem to have lost it. More later...

Twenty Random Facts About Me

So I can feel part of my new sisterhood of bloggers, I will now share twenty random things about myself. Thanks for all of your help Duchess Jane and Bombadee.

1. I was once told by a psychic I had bad car karma. On the way home from the reading my husband called to tell me the engine had just blown in my Grand Am.
2. I am unable to wear mascara as my eyelashes go straight down and mascara renders me blind.
3. I complain when my husband pinches my butt in public, but secretly love it.
4. I envy my kid sister with her pretty smile, tight ass and killer boobs.
5. Every night before I go to bed, I kiss my children and smell them. I find their aroma intoxicating.
6. I haven’t bitten my fingernails in years and have recently picked the habit up again.
7. I am an incredibly loyal friend, and
8. I am not someone you want as your enemy.
9. I have two freckles on the palm of my left hand.
10. My opinion on religion changes from year to year. Am I Christian, atheist, agnostic…hell if I know. Ask me tomorrow.
11. I do not care to cuddle following sex. I prefer to roll over and go to sleep.
12. I once had a “connection” with Barry Manilow.
13. My favorite holiday is All Hallow’s Eve.
14. I have a nasty temper that I am able to manage, most of the time.
15. My husband is way cuter than I deserve, a fact I enjoy very much.
16. My hands rarely sit still. I am known for tearing napkins into tiny pieces at restaurants.
17. When I laugh really hard I have trouble not peeing my pants.
18. I took my first set of braces off in the neighbor’s garage with a pair of pliers.
19. When I was seven years old Mr. Moustache made fun of my name on his local TV show and I cried.
20. I compulsively re-read everything I type to the point where I have to delete some things in order to stop.

A Dog Hair

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