Skating is healthy?

I took my son to a birthday party yesterday. It was at a skating rink. Before we left the house I called to make sure the heath insurance was paid up to date. James had never skated before, and I haven't in almost 15 years.

Even as a kid I could never roller skate well. I have a middle ear birth defect that causes my sense of balance to be a bit off. However, James was foaming at the mouth to go. I figured it would be good for him since the last month has been not been a time of fun or cheer.

So, off we go. I defy death to cross 3 lanes of traffic to a turn lane after I missed the damn rink on the first pass. Doing a U-turn was fun. Oh boy, we are off to a great start already!

Ok, we find the rink, park, go inside, hunt down the birthday boy in the crowd of screaming prepubescent kids, apologize to the mom for not RSVP'ing since I was out of town when James was invited, then make our way to the counter of broken bones.. uh I mean the skate check out counter. Yeah, that's it. Uh huh.

I hand over my son's size 4 sneakers and get a size 4 pair of 'hi, Dr. Jackson, I figured you hadn't stitched him up, or put a cast on him in over 4 months and I was thinking I really needed to give you another co-pay this year' skates in return.

As I laced my son into his very first pair of roller skates, the smell and sounds of the rink took me back to my younger days. Days of bruises, fun, and greasy food goodness. They say the Gods watch out for drunks and children so I said a quick generic prayer as I helped him stand up on the skates for the first time.

For the next 1/2 hour my right arm was repeatedly given the snatch and jerk treatment. You know a 73 lb kid can damn near pull off your arm if you're not paying attention. He finally got used to them and could skate about 6 feet without falling when he started badgering me to get skates.

Ok, Ok, Ok... I got my skates and started mumbling inarticulate pleas of mercy to any and all deities that may have been watching. I'm proud to say I only fell on my ass once (on my own anyway). After I got steady enough to leave the 'kiddy rink' (oh the shame) James and I headed out to the real rink. There he fell and then pulled me down at least 3 more times.

We had a great time. We didn't have to go see Dr. Jackson. But, I think I broke my ass in 6 places. And, my right arm is seriously strained. I can't raise it above shoulder level. James had fun, I had fun. We're going to go back each time he progresses through a reading level in his class. Yes, it's bribery.. but fun bribery.

Hugs, kisses, and laughter

I am inexpressibly happy to be home. My son is my world. Almost nothing I do is not weighed against repercussions to my son.

With that said, I did not take him with me to Jacksonville for my brother's funeral services. He had just gone with me the week before to grandpa's funeral, and was still having nightmares and worry about death. Knowing my family, I knew there would probably be a lot of scenes I didn't want him to see.

Telling him that his uncle John had died (just 3 days after burying grandpa) was one of the hardest moments for me. Grandpa I could rationalize. Grandpa was very old, sick, and tired. I agonized over what to say about John's death. Finally, last Saturday I sat him down and said I needed to talk to him.

I was calm, collected, somber, but not crying, or upset when I sat him next to me.

Me: You know uncle John, right?
Son: Yeah, I love uncle Johnny
Me: I know you do. Well, uncle John laid down yesterday and..
Son: I bet he died (in this terrible, colorless voice I've never heard my son use)
Me: Yes, honey, uncle John did pass away yesterday.
Son: I love you momma
Me: I love you, too, forever and ever
Son: Will you have to go to Florida and see him in the case (casket), like grandpa?
Me: Yes, I will have to go back to Florida.
Son: Can I go play now?
Me: Yes, we will talk more later, ok?
Son: Ok.

Ladies and gents, my heart was breaking for my son. I decided not to take him with me to Jacksonville and made arrangements for him to stay with the neighbors. I called every night that I was gone, and usually got to talk to him. They said he was doing ok, but was acting up a bit more than usual.

When I talked to him we'd have our usual 'I love you more' battles.

I got home too late Thursday night to wake him, so after school Friday he came running over. I grabbed him in a BIG hug and that's when he said it.

Son: I was afraid I'd never see you again.

UGH. Hey look you can see the wall behind me, you know, through the whole you just drove through my heart. Of course I didn't say that to him, I reassured him that I wasn't going anywhere else, and that if I did I'd take him with me.

He said "you'll take me everywhere you go, right?"
I joked, well I won't take you to the bathroom with me, but everywhere else but bathroom and work, you can come with me.

I love my son lol.. that's when he quipped.. Well, you take me with you at the big bathrooms (rest areas on the interstate) so I don't get stolen or lost in the boy's bathroom.

We both dissolved into laughter when I asked him how he got so smart. That laughter, with my son in my lap, did more to heal my heart than anything else in the last week.

I'm a mom, and I am glad.

All God's chil'ren got shoes

I'm back from my brother's funeral. This has been the longest, hardest month I've ever had to deal with. I'm ready for this year to be over.

I went to Jacksonville on Monday expecting the funeral to be on Tues. It was delayed until Thursday. In those days, I saw the worst in my family.

Blame, recrimination, backbiting, old wrongs dragged from the closet.. I was damn near ashamed to be related to these people. There is alot of guilt held by the 3 people that were with my brother the night he died. And instead of dealing with it constructively, they've lashed out at the rest of us.

My mother and step father accused me of letting my brother go hungry, of not being there when he was in withdrawals, etc. I've washed my hands of it. John and I know what kind of relationship we had. He knows he always had a place to come if he needed to .. and often he did. I didn't even try to dignify the accusations with answers. There was no point. I tried, hell am trying, to file them away as things said in pain, grief and heartache.

My sister is in real danger at this point. If the family doesn't stop this guilt trip and blame laying, she may very well end up committing suicide. I've explained to her, cajoled her, held her and whispered "it's not your fault, it's not your fault" for what seemed like hours.

By the time the funeral actually did come, I was so emotionally shell shocked that I was little more than running on instinct. Hold them when they cry, direct people to the restroom, make sure coffee is made, introduce various people to other people, try to answer questions, offer comfort, and not go insane.

Everyone kept commenting on how well I was holding up, the fact that I was there to comfort all of my family, I never ended up a wailing sobbing mess kneeling in a corner somewhere. I'm not a person that can do that. My grief, my pain, my screaming, begging denials are private. I can't fall apart in public. It's almost impossible for me. If I even start to something inside me rises up and forbids it. I swallow my pain until I can be alone, then I can come unglued.

My sister in her pain and grief was worried about the oddest things. John was cremated today, but for the showing and funeral yesterday we had to rent a coffin. (ugh how creepy is that.. a rented coffin) Anyway she was worried they might not have tied his shoes. So she looked under the little curtain they have that separates the closed portion of the coffin from the open. She was stunned to realize John didn't have shoes on.

I had to explain to her that it is pretty common for them not to put shoes on the person, for some reason. It was bizarre. The whole thing was bizarre.

At the service my sister got up and gave a very long winded, very rambling speech about the damage drugs can do, the fact no one reached out to John.. etc I hope she takes her own message to heart and gives up drinking and drugs herself.

I heard more than one person quietly joke, after the funeral, that if it had been the Oscars they would have started the commercials over her speech. I'm ashamed to admit I laughed .. it was true. I was starting to wonder if they had the hook waiting in the wings to pull her away from the mic myself. She meant well.. she tried.. she did what she could. I'm proud of her for standing up there and giving her speech knowing that a good portion of the family does secretly blame her.

My brother would have HATED the way our family behaved. He hated confrontation, guilt trips, arguing, or hard feelings. John would do anything to make people laugh, to try to defuse a situation. I pointed this out time and time again to my siblings, my mother and her husband. I might as well have tried explain the Pythagoras theorem to a 3 year old.

My cousin and I left to come home almost immediately after the funeral. I don't know if there was fighting, I really don't want to know. All I know is .. I have to move on with my life. My son and I have to move on. The rest of my family will have to get through this on their own. I have officially given up my 'unofficial' job as family confidante, peacekeeper, and problem solver.

I have to worry about my son and I. I love my family, crazy as they are, but I'm doing my best to stay out of it.. away from it.. and go on living.

It gets worse

My brother.. He was a 24 yr old man/boy. I found his body 36 hours ago. I've had my screaming cry now that the family is gone, and I'm sure it's not the last. John started smoking pot at 13 and just kept working his way up from there. I can't think of a single drug he hasn't tried at some point.

He moved up to Georgia 5 months ago to get away from the crack-fiend crowd he was hanging with in Florida. When he got here he was emaciated and sickly looking, it was terrible to behold. I've watched him slowly come from the shadow of that drug, though he still drank more that I would have liked.

He got to know his nephew, my son age 7, while he was here and getting clean. John and I had many a conversation about he fact he decided he wanted to live. He looked back and could honestly say the drugs weren't worth it. God if only he'd remembered that. God, I'm hurting so bad..

Our grandfather passed away 8 days ago. John's grief was terrible to see.

My sister's boyfriend, unknown to anyone else, gave him two oxycotins the day of the funeral. John took both. We were all appalled to see him stoned out of his gourd at grandpa's funeral. But John's never been one to turn down drugs. Maybe if I'd given him the 'big sister smack down' I wanted to at the time it would have made a difference.. probably not.

I am assuming that is what triggered his downward spiral again. Most of my family drink very heavily and John was no exception. He frequently mixed drugs and alcohol though I always warned him one day it would kill him.

Thursday night he was drinking with some of the family. Four of them put down a half gallon of Wild Turkey Whiskey and over a case of beer that night. One of my immediate family had some morphine pills (not prescribed to them). John was offered them by that family member. The combination of liquor and morphine is probably what killed him. We won't know for sure until the toxicology report from the coroners.

I watched my brother go from a shell of a man with burned out eyes and mind to a man I was learning to respect. He was putting on weight, working, making friends.

But drugs and drinking go hand and hand for much of my family. Myself .. well I've seen both destroy too many lives in the past to do much of either. I'm no saint, I smoked a bushel of pot in my teen years. I never reached the everyday point. I was splurging if I smoked it once a month. John didn't have that will power. If it was around he'd do it.

I'm so fucking angry I could .. hell I don't know what I could do. Not only did one of our siblings give him morphine KNOWING he'd been drinking all night.. when confronted about it they lied and said they got the pills from me. And I know why.. their significant other has done jail time for giving drugs to someone and contributing to that persons death.

I hope you're fucking happy now asshole. You contributed to another death. The death of my brother. Take your oxy and your zanny bars and your morphine and shove them up your ass. There is an official police investigation going on. I'd hate to see my sibling go to jail for this.. but hey shit happens.

They feel guilty for John's death, and yes some of that guilt is theirs. BUT John was a grown man, he could have said no. The other two family members there that night feel guilty. They could have stepped in and taken the pills away. Some of the guilt IS theirs. I feel guilty because I was at work, cheerfully helping customers at blahblah insurance while my brother was dying.

I love you John. I miss you bro. It hurts so bad.


Moon.. thank you. Thank you for listening to me scream, cry, and rant after I learned all of the above. Thank you & Obi both.

I want him back

I want my brother back. please god I want him back. Id crawl on my belly thru 6 miles of broken glass to have him here w/ me. to be able to call mom and say it was some terrible terrible mistake and that he's alive. I want him to make fun of me again. I want to tell him he's an idiot .. I want to relive the worst fight we ever had.. just please please I want him back .. oh please tell me it's not true and he's not dead. He's my brother, I changed his diapers god I helped raise him. I want him back. please please even if I never saw or heard from him again I want him to be alive .. to be back.. oh god.. this hurts so fucking bad. i cant sleep, i cant .. everytime I lay down I see his body, lying there on the sofe. I want him back. I want to scream and cuss at him.. hell I want him to hit me, knock me down.. just god please let him be alive. oh johny, john john.. i love you much. I miss you brother.. please ..

Ive got a Rx for valium but I dont want to take them. I cant imagine not hurting.. I want my grief, every last bitter drop I love you John

Damn it John.. I told you to leave the drugs and alcohol alone. Fuck you for not listening to me. You'd be here with us. We'd not be dying inside like this. I hope if nothing else this will be a wakeup call for the family that IS still battling drug/alcohol addiction. John I love you. Jonny.. oh john why? why?

1980 - 2004

In memory of John, uncle JJ, Jonny-boy. 


I love you, bro-bro. I'm gonna miss you so damn much.

Dear God, make it stop

Another major loss has befallen me. My brother has died. I can’t seem to take it in.
My sister called me today at 5pm to discuss me taking her back to Jacksonville now that her visit was over. I asked where John was and she replied still sleeping. She called again at 7 to tell me she couldn’t wake him up. I threw a pair of jeans under my nightgown, sent my son next door and drove to mom’s house 3 miles away. I spent the whole trip praying she was just being melodramatic, something she’s prone to. After arriving, I saw her sobbing and I knew.. just knew.

He was lying on the couch, looking for the entire world like a man who is sleeping. I approached him and checked for a pulse at the jaw… nothing. Checked again. Nothing. Checked the wrist.. No pulse. I held my hand over his mouth. No respiration. Dear God.. I knew from the moment I thouched him. He was already cool and somwhat clammy. I still couldn’t belive it. I checked pulse and respiration again. Nothing. My 24 yr old brother was dead.

As hard as it was to see his body, to be the one to confirm his death, I feel a minor blessing. I had a chance to brush the hair back from his forehead and kiss my brother one last time. He had his problems, his faults, and his challenges, but I had a few minutes to say goodbye to him that I loved.

About 10 minutes later the police showed up. I walked to the head of the driveway to guide them down. Paramedics, dectectives, plains clothes men, coronors.. A never-ending stream of officials. My sister was inconsolable, and had to be pulled away from John.

Me the ‘together one’, as always. My strong supportive exterior is cracking.. I can’t keep this up. After finding my brother, I called my mother’s cell phone and got her husband. I told him that John was, indeed, gone. They arrived about 30 mins later. All the officials where present. We had to restrain her until the officer could tell her that John had passed. Her grief was heart rending. She fell to the ground; we clustered around her to offer love. But guess what. It doesn’t help. All the I’m sorrys, hugs, and kisses in the world doesn’t make this easier.

I have a large # of family here at my house. They are pulling together to try to get through our 2nd death in a week. I haven’t had time to comprehend it yet. I feel like I’m not in my body. I will never forget to my dying day, the way my brother looked and felt as I brushed his hair off his forehead and kissed him for the last time.

I can’t cry. Why can’t I cry? I’m dying inside but I can’t cry. Only 3 or 4 stubborn tears will come. I feel like a bad person for not being able to cry for him. I think it’s just sensory overload. My grandfather last Saturday my brother Friday. I just don’t know how I’ll get through this. I missed 3 days of work with no pay for grandpa. It looks likely I’ll be missing more this week for John. How am I supposed to pay the bills? God I’m a selfish beast aren’t I? My thoughts are scattered.. I’m just not all here.

What do I tell my son?

Blog Ho

Those that know me know I'm a blog slut. I love reading people's insights, their lives, the little trival things. With that in mind I recently signed up for blogexplosion. As my son would say "it's wondermous". I get to surf bloggs from all the blog networks, not just blogger. In return I get additional visitors here. What could be better!

Hi honey, I'm home

I got back last night from my trip to Florida for grandpa's funeral. It was late. I was tired.

So, I put off this post until today. All things consided it was not a bad visit, given the circumstances. I was surrounded by family that I don't know well. I lost count of the number of times I heard "You don't remember me, do ya? The last time I saw you, you were in diapers"

Well, of course I don't remember you then!

It was nice to have all my immediate family there. I've not seen my youngest brother in over a year. He's now 6'2" and towered over me, even in my heels. I can't remember the last time all 5 of us kids were in the same place at the same time.

Nothing too drastic to tell, which is something of a rarity since my family can't get together without bickering.

My little sister is here until Saturday, so I won't be producing much.

Thanks

Thank you to all of you that have offered condolences. It's hard to know what to say or do at a time like this I know, but it has been oddly comforting. Sometimes not so oddly since I do know a few of you pretty well and for a number of years. Thanks Ladies.. And Les, I'll remember.. Thank you love. Anyway..

I'll be headed down to Jax today. We have the showing this afternoon and the funeral is Tuesday morning. I'm doing well, James has taken it well. So that is a load off my mind.

I'll be going to dad's house and he'll be going to the funeral home w/ us. Grandpa was his father in law and dad's always thought the world of him. I'll be staying at dad's tonight and will be headed home again Tuesday night after the funeral. My brother will be riding home with me, so I'll not be driving the roads at night alone after all this.

Thank you again. And I'm sure I'll have some bittersweet family anecdote to share with you Wed or Thur. In the mean time, take care of yourselves. Tell the people you love that you love them now. Life (and death) is what happens while we are busy making other plans.

13 hours

I've had 13 hours to come to grips with my grandfather's death. Yeah, I get it. He's gone.

I spent most of the day here at the house playing operator. I was something of a central hub. My brother, mother, father, etc would call for updates on plans and I'd tell them everything I knew to date.

I still feel a bit out of it. I bit vague, a bit dim. Talking with my brother it became obvious that grandma and grandpa's adopted 13 yr old daughter is refusing to deal with the fact that he is gone.

She was there, she saw him on the couch, she KNOWS he's passed into the clearing but is very likely repressing it. She greeted all visitors today in her normal cheerful way, played outside with her friends, and in short acted like nothing is wrong. Now, before you think she just may not really care.. I know that's not the case. I feel for her. The only father she's ever known is gone. I can't imagine it.

My mother shocked me to the core when I called to see if she wanted to get/do anything. She asked me to give my brother directions to the liquor store. It was so off base I just could not compute the words. I asked her to repeat herself and she said "Well, all the people that drink are going to be coming to my house. I figure the cheapest way to go about it is to get a keg".

WTF!?! You've got to be shitten me! Right? No, she was serious. I called her back a few hours later to let her know they'd decided to transport him back to our home town where we have a family cemetery to be buried there. Her response "I guess we won't need the keg then".. nothing about travel arrangements, flowers, cards, just "I guess we wont need the keg then". I was speechless.

My grandmother has an appointment with the funeral home tomorrow at 2 in Jax FL. They are hoping to have the funeral Tuesday morning. I'll be calling my boss tomorrow to let him know so I can make it.

In the mean time I've told everyone to elect a new central hub for the night. I've put in my overtime. I just want to go to bed. Not because I'm tired, just so I can get away from it all.

(on a side note: I did take my son to see Shark Tale today. He enjoyed it. It was on ok movie. But then again I had alot on my mind and wasn't paying too much attention)

Dear Grandpa

Where to start? I love you, I'll miss you. Chris called this morning and told me of your passing in your sleep. I hope that you were dreaming of home and found comfort and succor when you arrived.

I know that even though we have lived with in 40 miles of each other for the last 5 yrs we haven't seen much of each other. And that is mostly my fault. I'm sorry. We didn't see eye to eye on the things that were most important in your life, God, religion, and salvation. I hope that you did finally attain that which you believed so strongly in.

So many memories, little fragments of conversation, pieces of advice you've given me over the years are playing through my mind. I wish James had been able to go fishing with you, as I did all those years ago. Grandpa, here's a little secret I never told you... I hate to fish. I went just to be with you, to have something in common that we could do together. To spend time with you as you told me stories of your youth.

There's no way to say what I wish I could. I don't have the words. I'm at a loss. I'm glad James and I did get to visit with you last month. I'm glad you got to hear us tell you we loved you. I'm glad I got to hug you one last time.

I called dad and told him the news this morning. He was very upset to hear it. He loved you, as I'm sure you know. Even though he and mom have been divorced 25 yrs dads always asked after you. He will do his best to be there to pay his respects and to remember. We spent 30 mins talking about the times you and dad had together. About the fact you despised him when he and mom first started dating. About how in the end you swore to anyone that would listen that dad was your favorite in-law.

This will be James' first experience with the finality of death. I hope I can explain and reassure him that as long as we remember you, you will live on in our hearts. You will live on in mine. I love you. I will miss you.

Love,
Jennifer Renee

No nookie in dream land

I dreamed about my beau a few nights ago. In the dream we were cuddled up on the couch listening to "Let's get it on", a song we both like.

I told him about the dream and his question was .. Do I EVER get beyond 3rd base in your dreams?

The answer is No. I've never been one to have sexually oriented dreams. I can't think of a single dream where Tab A and Slot B ever fit together. This could be a good thing though since I usually dream in 3rd person. I'd hate to just be watching all that hot action.

The following day I was at work and thinking about the above conversation. When I suddenly burst out laughing my co-workers looked at me like I'd suddenly decided to pull out the machete and attack! kill, maim, fresh hot death (with free delivery).. oh wait.. where was I .. yeah yeah dreams..

What got me to laughing was the realization that if I had been a male I would have had to lie about all my sordid little nocturnal emissions dreams. I mean really you can't tell your buddies you dreamed about banging Jessica Rabbit if you never even got her dress off. (Ok I have NO idea where Jessica Rabbit came from but anyway)

I've been given instruction in how to 'direct' my dreams on several occasions, due to my severe insomnia and chronic nightmares. I never really achieved much success at it. I decided to try last night, for farts and giggles, to see if I even COULD have sex in my dreams.

I drifted off to sleep with the opening frame firmly in mind. Something that would be mutually enjoyable in real life.. things progressed as normal.. until... it was time to remove clothing.

He reaches for the small button.. but now it's suddenly too large to fit through the button loop. We struggle with the button.. ok screw the button. Let try the panties. Uh no. Didn't work. They kept getting caught, snagged, stuck, or in some fashion prevented from being removed. The only piece of clothing that did get removed was my stockings. Finally, in my dream, we both realize how absurd this is and break out in hysterical laughter, collapse on the bed, and snuggle up as the chuckles die out.

So guess what hun? You didn't get any last night either.

Math and Music

I've made a very happy discovery tonight. My son, who has dyslexia, is very good at addition. I gave him a page of 30 simple single digit addition and he completed all of them (correctly) in less than 5 mins. I am thrilled.

I am an avid reader and it has been disheartening to me to struggle through sentences like Tab is a cat. Tab can run and play. I've worked with him almost constantly since his dyslexia was diagnosed almost 2 yrs ago. His penmanship is still atrocious. He's in first grade (I held him back in Kindergarten an extra year) and can barely write his name legibly.

So, his love of and aptitude for math especially encourage me. I was a math geek too lol.

But, even as I'm typing I can hear him in the shower. Singing. Badly. Whoever said math and music go hand and hand clearly did not get to hear this warbling rendition of various childhood songs. But I can't help but smile. The noise coming from the bathroom sounds very much like a seagull gargling with peanut butter.

But, he's mine. And, I'm proud of him. I'm proud of what we've accomplished. I'm a mom. Life is good.

Cats VS Dogs

How To Give A Cat A Pill

1. Pick cat up and cradle it in the crook of your left arm as if holding a baby. Position right forefinger and thumb on either side of cat's mouth and gently apply pressure to cheeks while holding pill in right hand. As cat opens mouth pop pill into mouth - allow cat to close mouth and swallow.

2. Retrieve pill from floor and cat from behind sofa. Cradle cat in left arm and repeat process.

3. Retrieve cat from bedroom, and throw soggy pill away.

4. Take new pill from foil wrap, cradle cat in left arm holding rear paws tightly with left hand. Force jaws open and push pill to back of mouth with right forefinger. Hold mouth shut for a count of ten.

5. Retrieve pill from goldfish bowl and cat from top of wardrobe. Call spouse from garden.

6. Kneel on floor with cat wedged firmly between knees, hold front and rear paws. Ignore low growls emitted by cat. Get spouse to hold head firmly with one hand while forcing wooden ruler into mouth. Drop pill down ruler and rub cat's throat vigorously.

7. Retrieve cat from curtain rail, get another pill from foil wrap. Make note to buy new ruler and repair curtains. Carefully sweep shattered figurines and vases from hearth and set to one side for gluing later.

8. Wrap cat in large towel and get spouse to lie on cat with head just visible from below armpit. Put pill in end of drinking straw, force mouth open with pencil and blow down drinking straw.

9. Check label to make sure pill not harmful to humans, drink glass of water to take taste away. Apply Band-Aid to spouse's forearm and remove blood from carpet with cold water and soap.

10. Retrieve cat from neighbour's shed. Get another pill. Place cat in cupboard and close door onto neck to leave head showing. Force mouth open with dessertspoon. Flick pill down throat with elastic band.

11. Fetch screwdriver from garage and put cupboard door back on hinges. Apply cold compress to cheek and check records for date of last tetanus jab. Throw Tee shirt away and fetch new one from bedroom.

12. Ring fire department to retrieve cat from tree across the road. Apologise to neighbour who crashed into fence while swerving to avoid cat. Take last pill from foil-wrap.

13. Tie cat's front paws to rear paws with garden twine and bind tightly to leg of dining table, find heavy-duty pruning gloves from shed. Push pill into mouth followed by large piece of fillet steak. Hold head vertically and pour 2 pints of water down throat to wash pill down.

14. Get spouse to drive you to the emergency room, sit quietly while doctor stitches fingers and forearm and removes pill remnants from right eye. Call furniture shop on way home to order new table.

15. Arrange for RSPCA to collect cat and ring local pet shop to see if they have any hamsters.


How To Give A Dog A Pill

1. Wrap it in bacon.

Is it time to go home yet?

OH wait.. I am home. Calgon take me away! If I can't have that.. Les, just take me. Crap, I can't have that either. Oh well.


My day at work was intellectually stimulating to it's normal degree.

My coworkers had a 20 minute debate on the proper way to pronounce Ramen (as in noodle soup) Someone stop them before they breed! Ra-man, Ra-men, Ray-man, Ray-men and one notable idiot Ra-me-on wtf?

A plastic fork taped to the white board with the word "you" written under it was considered the pentacle of humor.

And I wonder why I can't connect with these people lmao.

Not Quite

Copied from my Beau's comment to Hey God, It's me .. The Queer

It should be noted that the ''God hates Shrimp'' comment should be clarified. Don't worry if you're a Christian. Ostensibly (note the tongue firmly in the cheek), those are the rules for the twelve tribes of Israel in the Old Testament. The first Five books of the Old Testament are the Torah, and contain the rules that so severely circumscribe orthodox Judaism. Christians can eat shrimp. However, the point of my paramour's piece is that there are more serious things to worry about then homosexuality.

No, that's not really what I was trying to say, my love. Yes, there are more serious things to worry about. I also was taught that "Christians" really didn't have to worry about those things because of the sacrifice Jesus Christ made on our behalf.

But the Anti Homosexual crowd seems to have missed the memo. If you're going to dig out an obscure (and equally important at the time) law out of the Old Testament, then you should live by them ALL. You can't pick and choose. Besides, what happened to hate the sin, love the sinner?

One thing that most Christians seem to miss, while they are thundering damnation down on everyone else, is that a good majority of them are adulterers. Nay, that's not true, says the Bible Belt Band.

Oh yeah.. many of you are.. And THAT my friends is one of the 10 'straight from the hand of God' Commandments. For those of you not following along it's #7 .. yeah the one right after Thou Shalt Not Commit Murder.

Let us turn in our bibles to the book of Matthew Chapter 5.
5:27
Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not commit adultery:
5:28
But I say unto you, That whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.
5:29
And if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell.
5:30
And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell.
5:31
It hath been said, Whosoever shall put away his wife, let him give her a writing of divorcement:
5:32
But I say unto you, That whosoever shall put away his wife, saving for the cause of fornication, causeth her to commit adultery: and whosoever shall marry her that is divorced committeth adultery.

Now even in New Testament times adultery was punishable by death. Stoning to be exact.

So, in the words of the Big JC himself

John 8:7 So when they continued asking him, he lifted up himself, and said unto them, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.

If there was to exist among Christians a single pure sinless individual I MIGHT listen to what they had to say about homosexuality. However, that perfect sinlessness does not exist. And it has no bearing on wither or not you are, in fact, doing the booty-root in the privacy of your own home.

If your going to spout judgment and damnation upon the masses.. please at least do it logically. Which is almost impossible using the Bible since it often speaks in parables, is contradictory to itself, and has been 'version'ized so many times that most of the translations are somewhat suspect to start with.

Do I have the cutest kid alive or what? 

Hey God, It's me .. The Queer

I saw the most aggravating article on homosexuality tonight online somewhere. Homosexuals are breaking God's laws blah blah blah.. anyway. The suggestion they gave for homosexuals? Just quit. Huh? just.. just quit? Where not talking about smoking or drinking? I mean really.. just quit?

I have a cousin who is gay. And I love him, he's funny, intelligent, and best of all has my same sense of humor. I can just see him after reading that article. We'd be mocking it together.

(miming picking up a phone) Hey St Pete, can I talk to God for a minute? Ok sure, I'll hold.....

Hey God it's me C.. you know the queer one. Yeah well I recently read somewhere that I need to stop being queer. Is there a 12 step program or something? Oh and can you cancel my daily subscription to OMG Look At That Ass and I guess I'll pass on the 50 Hottest Bachelors issue of Time this year, too.

uh huh.. Guns and Ammo magazine?!? What do you mean I've got to get Guns and Ammo home delivered? Oh .. OH yeah.. ok so that will help me stop being gay? Um ok I mean you're God you should know. Really, an all natural herbal supplement? Queer-away? And you say it'll stop my trouser snake cravings in less than 30 days!

Oh and for the record .. God Hates Shrimp Too!

Leviticus 11:9-12 says:
9 These shall ye eat of all that are in the waters: whatsoever hath fins and scales in the waters, in the seas, and in the rivers, them shall ye eat.
10 And all that have not fins and scales in the seas, and in the rivers, of all that move in the waters, and of any living thing which is in the waters, they shall be an abomination unto you:
11 They shall be even an abomination unto you; ye shall not eat of their flesh, but ye shall have their carcases in abomination.
12 Whatsoever hath no fins nor scales in the waters, that shall be an abomination unto you.

So for all you lovely church go-ers that are scarfing down on the Red Lobster All You Can Eat Shrimpfest while condemning others... I guess we'll end up in the same place after all. See ya there.

Turkey? In October?

Happy Thanksgiving to all you in Canada (aka the frozen arctic wasteland). I tell you, most of the people in Georgia still think Canada is covered by igloos, Eskimo (Inuit), and hockey fanatics. Ok, so they're right about one thing. It must be a bitch trying to prop a hockey stick against the wall of an igloo.

I wish I could be there. Really, I do.

TGIF

You know those days where you wake up and feel like a Goddess/God among men? Where you think, I'm so great I'm going to need to hire body guards to keep the paparazzi away. After I show up, work's gonna start a cover charge! Molten lava has nothing on my hotness!

Well, today was NOT one of those days. About the best I could come up with was "well nobody should barf when they see me". And that's after I put some time and effort into hair and makeup.. prior to that, people would have barfed.

All things considered though it's been a pretty good day. I got lots done at work. (mostly bitching and whining but hey!) I was hit was an expected expense related to my insurance license and it means that I had to chose between keeping my job or paying the car payment.. blah They informed us Monday that we'd have to pay to renew our insurance licenses this year.. by today. Since I hold licenses in 14 states this turned out to be a HUGE expense. In an attempt to stave off possible rioting (well that's my theory), they did provide us w/ a free (and really good) barbecue dinner today.

That huge expense also means I wont get to take my son to see Shark Tales, something I promised we'd do this weekend. I hate, hate, hate breaking my word to my son. So goes.. I'll bribe him with the left over barbecue I brought home. lol

On a good note. I talked to the landlord.. she's probably going to carpet the house in the next month or so. I have hideous beige, yellow, and avocado linoleum all through the house right now. The house (more correctly double wide trailer, yep I'm trailer trash :) lol) is from the 70's. But considering I pay little to nothing to live here due to being wonderfully close to the landlord I don't complain .. much... well at least not to her.

Some of my peevishness today is undoubtedly due to the fact that this time last month I was on a plane. Headed northwest, to a warm and long awaited welcome..

I did talk to my father tonight and tell him I went. Yep, he didn't even know I was going. He was somewhat shocked I didn't tell him. But, given the fact dad has an undying fear (actually it's the death part that worries him) of flying, I thought it would be better to save him the agonizing over it. Now he doesn't have to worry about me being vaporized, robbed, hijacked, blah blah.. because I'm back.

I told him I was going to meet some online friends (true). That they are a divorced couple (true). That I had a good time (true). My lie, by omission, is the fact I'm giving very serious thought to moving there. I'm going to work on it. You know pull out all the public relation tricks and buff the image of Les, and Canada till you can see you're reflection. Then we'll talk to dad about the future.. besides we are talking the future.. sadly, not even the near future. So I have time to work on that.

When is a door not a door

The walnut door seems impossibly tall to the 3 yr old.
Behind it the Judge says, "your mother and father aren't going to be living together anymore. Where would you like to go if you could pick"

The flimsy white door of a mobile home where she grows up for years with her father. He's attentive, thoughtful and playful.

The white door with the golden knob she slams in her father's face. She packs to leave. I'm moving in with mom and Don!

The French door with the sheer curtain. She can see him on the other side. She prays as she lays in her bed. Please not tonight...make him go away God, please not tonight again.

The doors are all locked. The special door is industrial green on one side, padded on the other. There is wire reinforcing in its mean little window. She screams, cries, and is reduced to nothing behind that door. When she's let out the other children remind her.. Play the game, tell them what they want to hear, you'll go home if you do. And she does.

Doors to the police station, where she tells over and over and over. Doors to the court room. The door that opens slowly, bitterly to the words Not Guilty.

Dozens, no hundreds of doors later.

The door to the hospital room. With a hand written sign "DO NOT ASK MRS RED IF SHE'S HAD HER EPIDURAL. 8 hrs later behind that door a reason to live again is born.

The door to personal freedom and independence was brown metal with a broken window she replaces with plywood. But it's hers. And she's more or less content for the first time in here life.

I wrote the proceeding sections of this probably 6 1/2 years ago. I found it tucked into a book while I was reorganizing after my return from the trip. Needless to say the rest is new.

The red door missing the number 1. Trust grows again. The most fragile of flowers, Bruised easily, but the most wonderful bloom of all. The fruit, however, is bitter sweet.

The mint green door of a lonely bedroom. With a lonely bed. One day the door will open and happiness will stand on the other side.

For the record

Dial up sucks syphilitic donkey dick!!

My excuses? No, my responsibilities

I was in chat with a group of people I know well tonight. Another person joined us, a man I don't know. He made idle conversation about Georgia and I was playing along. We really are a friendly bunch, all things considered.

I made the joking comment about having lived in the Arm Pit of America (Georgia) for 10 yrs. He said "well if you're not happy move". To which I replied, It's not that easy. I have a kid, a job, friends blah blah blah"

His answer "whatever, those are just excuses." A friend of mine (one who has defended me on this blogg while I was away.. I'm going to have to start calling her She-Ra) jumped in "wow I didn't know it was criticize Red night!" You can say alot of things about the ladies I talk w/ online. We give each other hell.. but if a stranger starts in we circle the wagons. We will defend our own. I love you, ladies!

But, I digress.. no shock to those regular readers of mine.. There IS somewhere I'd like to be right now. And I thought about telling this guy "You know you're right! I'm going in tomorrow and quit my job (losing several thousand dollars worth of company contribution into my 401K that will be mine in 6 months), sell my belongings, yank my kid out of school, and drag him wherever the wind blows us. We'll be in rags, living in a car, and eating out of dumpsters, but damn it I WILL have moved, and by your definition, be happy."

Could I do that, sure. Would I do that? Hell, no. All other things aside, I have a son. A small being who is in this world because of me. I am responsible for his comfort, safety, and upbringing. That responsibility is both a joy and a burden. That burden, however, I assume with utmost reverence.

My beau asked me recently, how I define myself. My family for the last 3 generations have all lived in Florida or Georgia. He wanted to know if it would pain me to leave such personal history behind me. It won't. I don't define who I am by my past, it is by my future. It is by my son.

Almost no decision I've reached since his birth has not been weighed against the possible repercussions of/in his life. I've made decisions that were bitterly against what I would have wanted or done had I not been my son's cornerstone. Though they occasionally galled me, I did what was best for him. And will continue to do so. I'll not rush into the moment, give way to my own desires and wishes at the cost of my son. That price is too high.

So, I wait. I live where I don't want to be. I love from afar. Because in the end, my 401K, my housing arrangements, his schooling, our friends, all affect him and his life as much as my own. Thank God my beau understands.. even commends me for it.

Which one?!?

I throw myself on your tender mercies.. I am unable to decide. HELP. Who should I be for Halloween? Hoarder or Hussy?

'Am I the only one having serious Blogger issues for the last 2 days???

And OMFG.. I died laughing.. You gotta see this.

(edit a year later: it was a long handled back SHAVER)

How to deal with Church groups

After my exciting time working in the yard today I was sitting on the sofa trying to gain some Zen like power over my itching. It wasn't working. I'd changed into a fairly short night gown to keep the cloth from rubbing the welts.

Someone knocks on the door and I curse their mothers for ever meeting their fathers, because now I have to get up. I answer the door.. Jehovah's Witnesses.. GREAT

I've lived here almost 7 yrs and I have only had one visit from the JW.. I was doing good. Until today.. the most inopportune time imaginable.

They smiled.. until they saw my legs. Covered in angry, red sores (see prior post).. smeared over w/ calamine. The tips of a few welts protruded from the lotion like scarlet lochness monsters surfacing from a pink lake. I look like I have chickenpox, measles, or some other yet undefined skin disease. Sexy I know! You want me now.. I know you do .. just admit it..

The smiles slid off their faces, like raw egg running down a cabinet door. They mumbled a few sentences and left me the Awake and the Watchtower pamphlets. (As a side note that is the quickest I've ever gotten rid of JW) If you want to get rid of them quick, all you have to do is look like you have the plague.

I took some more benedryl and went back to dozing on the couch.. 2 hrs later someone's at the door again!

Baptists this time. GRRRR I was not happy. "We're going around spreading the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Have you been washed in the blood of the lamb?" I bit back a smart retort about that being why my legs were supernaturally pink. I spied the pamphlets left by the Jehovah's Witnesses out of the corner of my eye.

I grabbed the pamphlets and said "My family and I are Jehovah's Witnesses. If you'd like to come in we can discuss the doctrine in depth. Oh, have you had the chicken pox?" Then I pushed the JW pamphlets in their hands.

They mumbled something about having an appointment and beat a quick retreat.

Whew.. my job here is done. I've managed to scar two different religious members today.. all before dinner! I bet they will all pass on the door-to-door duty the next time it's their turn. LMAO

The itch had finally died down. The welts have finally faded. I could have company and not look like the incredible contagious woman.

Dancing Naked.. well screaming anyway

We've finally been given the ok to start cleaning up downed trees from the extreme weather we've gotten from the last few hurricanes. Yesterday, I got started.. Most of the little trees and branches were gathered and burned. Today, the big stuff. I got out my handsaw and borrowed a chain saw.

All went well and I had a merry fire going, as I continued to cut and drag sections of trees to the pit. I was attempting to drag a particularly branch-y part of a tree off another fallen piece when it happened.

Unbeknown to me, I had stepped .. nay, I had trampled, all but did the Flamenco, on top of a fire ant bed. A big one. Those of you not from this area may not have experience with these little guys. Bright red, small ants. Who are aptly named. If they bite you.. well let's hope they don't.

Don't let the fact they are insects fool you. I am quite certain they have a very clear communication system. While I was toiling they had trooped up my pants legs, no doubt snickering and cavorting with glee. The first bite was on my ankle. I reached down to scratch, thinking in my distraction that it was probably a mosquito.

Clearly fire ant #1's death cry was heard by all his brethren. Because on that cue all the ants started biting.. from ankle to just above the knee. This had an effect on me, as you might clearly imagine. Suddenly, I was covered by angry, biting demons from hell. I don't think my reaction could have been more dignified given the circumstances.

I spent about 15 seconds literally running around in circles beating at my legs. Talk about cultured. Woo Hoo.. This was not working. So I did what any other sensible, modest southerner would have done.

You know, I don't think I could have stripped off my jeans any faster if Sean Connery had appeared before me and begged leave to satisfy my every sexual whim. So.. here I am in my back yard, feet from a roaring fire, naked from the waist down, trying to get these little bastards off me before they could go any higher. Thank god the water hose was right there.. thank god it was turned on. I hosed myself off, and now sit here whimpering.. I've taken a baking soda bath and am covered in Calamine.

So, much for yard work! All I can say is #1 I'm very happy the house right behind mine is currently empty. I'm sure I was a sight. #2 I'm glad my son wasn't there. He probably would have pissed himself laughing at his mother jumping up and down, all but screaming as my nervous system reacted to, what seemed like at the time, someone setting off a roman candle in my jeans.

And, how has your day been so far?

Cats can sleep anywhere! 

Knee service

There comes a time in every woman's life where you can't put it off any longer. You have to do your duty, assume the knee position and get to work. I don't know of many ladies who like to do it.. and I'm no exception. But, somethings just have to be done from time to time to keep the peace in a household.

Once I get started I think to myself "you know this isn't as bad I as thought it would be", but I'm never eager to do it any time soon thereafter either. There's just not much to enjoy about it.. other than knowing once you're done you wont have to do it again for awhile.

Yes, today I scrubbed out the Tub. What where you thinking?!?

The Guinness worked

Oh Boy did it ever! Whew..

Sarcasm loves rejoice.. here is a new site

So You Think You Were Actually Hired to Do Work?? If you go to school for 4 to 6 years, run up $50,000 or more in debt, and learn how to design the chips that make computers and cell phones work, you can make, perhaps, $40,000 to $60,000/yr.

However, if you are REALLY good at making that singular facial expression that says, "I'm so constipated I'm about to produce a 10 kiloton detonation, but I'm SMILING," you can make hundreds of thousands or even MILLIONS of dollars.

So, if you really want to be successful in the world, don't worry about computers, don't worry about medicine, just practice SMILING while slamming your prick in a door.

Copied with out permission.. credit given

Ok I agree w/ this guy. I've seen, in corporate America, far more people get ahead by copious application of BUTT-KISSING BROWN Revlon lipstick than by actual (gasp) work. Sad but true.

Here Without You

Three Doors Down

A hundred days have made me older
Since the last time that I saw your pretty face
A thousand lies have made me colder
And I don't think I can look at this the same

But, all the miles that separate
Disappear now when I'm dreamin' of your face
I'm here without you baby
But you're still on my lonely mind

I think about you baby and I dream about you all the time
I'm here without you baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight, it's only you and me.

The miles just keep rollin'
As the people leave their way to say hello
I've heard this life is overrated
But I hope that it gets better as we go.

I'm here without you baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you baby and I dream about you all the time

I'm here without you baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight, there's only you and me.

Everything I know, and anywhere I go
It gets hard but it won't take away my love
And when the last one falls, when it's all said and done.
It gets hard but it won't take away my love

I'm here without you baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you baby and I dream about you all the time

I'm here without you baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight, there's only you and me

Natural Gas

Whoever said that natural gas isn't a renewable resource clearly wasn't sitting next to me at work today.

Revenge of the Chuluppa!