I'm back at home (again)

Damn our psycho weather this past few months! An ice storm came through and knocked out the power for 3 days. C'est la vie.

The finally got it back on today so I'm comfortable and warm at the moment.

We ended up at mom's house. She has a different power company and (damn them) they are small and thus GREAT at restoring power. When you use the big behemoth power company us little folks end up at the bottom of list while the mall and the upper 6 digit income houses get hooked back up first.

For the most part being at moms wasn't too bad. Some friends of theirs with a son about James' age came over (since they didn't have power either) and James and him had a great time.

All told it was 2 days of WAYYY to much time with my mother.. but hey.. you do what you have to do.

Things went well until my mommy sense started tingling. I'd not heard my son for at least 20 mins. I got up and started searching the house. I was on recon.. I didn't call his name. He might have been sleeping (yeah right), deeply involved in something, or (my bet) getting into trouble.

When I found him I knew that none of these things was the problem. I found him laying in the dark on my brothers bed, Uncle John, to my son.

I stood in the doorway and asked him if he wanted to come out and play with me and the other boy. No answer, but sniffles. As I climbed up and the bed and pulled him into my arms the heart broken wail started. "I miss my Uncle John" he said.

We sat on John's bed and rocked and talked for along time. I told him all the things parents tell young kids when they are dealing with a senseless death. John loved us. John wouldn't want us to be sad or hurting. It's ok to cry. It's ok to miss John. But, you have to remember there are alot of people that love you that are here to help you feel better.

My slow steady tears didn't conflict with the message I was trying to get across. It was breaking my heart to see my son hurting so badly. After about half an hour and a change of location, he was starting to wear himself out of tears and hurt and memories that one day, I hope, will not be quite so tainted with pain. We ended up at the mecca of kid feel better, McDonald's.

After he got done eating, he was able to give me a smile that didn't quaver too badly. We headed back to mom's house.

My brother's been gone three and a half months. There have been many long hard days. Sunday was one of the hardest for me as James' mom. There was nothing I could really do to help him, or heal him. I hated feeling so helpless.

On the way home from work today it hit me. I taught my brother to slow dance years ago and we still danced together from time to time. The last song we ever danced to came on the radio. It really really hit me then.. again. I'll never hear my brother laughing, talking, or singing again. I'll never get to dance with him again. I ended up in the parking lot of a church sobbing my heart out and drawing strange looks from strange people.

Damn it hurts so bad sometimes. But it is getting better.. hour by hour, day by day, month by month.

I love you John. I miss you, bro-bro.

Weird Thought #34

Don't ask where this came from, but....

Do men that have sex change operations have to do some special hygiene in their 'new' vagina?

If they don't will they get 'cooter' lint.. like belly button lint?

---- Welcome to my head -------

I don't know what got me thinking about that. I know that a natural born females vagina is pretty much a self cleaning unit. We have various fluids and processes our bodies produce to naturally clean the inner part of our bodies.

I know that sex changed women have to use ALOT of lube when they do have sex. That's because their 'vaginas' don't produce natural lubrication.

I mean granted... I've never really walked around with my panties full of pop-rocks and paper clips to see how effective my body is at preventing and removing foreign bodies... but still

On 2nd thought.. mmm pop-rocks.. get it wet .. sprinkle.. uh yeah where was I again? (mental note: buy 3 pack of pop-rocks before beaus next visit)

These are the kinda odd thoughts that sometimes side-swipe my normal (*snicker* normal .. yeah right!) point A to point C thinking.

As it happens....

Since Red Clover noted this day of her son's birth, I thought that it would be appropriate to note my own daughter's birthday. As it happens, my little girl can now legally get behind the wheel of a car, if she so chooses. She is sweet sixteen today. It only seems like yesterday, that I held her little person in my hands. I still remember that day clearly. Potential parents should know this little fact: the first twenty four hours, a baby takes in everything around them. It's like this, a child will pay more close attention to you in the first day, then at any time that follows. Unfortunately, now that she's sixteen, she listens so much less, that one cherishes the first time you talked to them. My daughter gazed at me, and seemed to be listening very closely. I remember that I made all kinds of statements to her about her life in the future, some of which I even remember. Mostly I wept, because the thing that hits you hardest is worry. Worry about her first fall, her first bicycle ride, her first swing, her first boyfriend(damn his eyes!!!).
Now she will be getting behind the wheel of a car. I hope that she does well. I'll still worry. Happy Birthday, Nikita.

James 6 mo old

James 6 mo old
Originally uploaded by red clover.

Where did my little boy go?!?

7 and a half years ago today this photo was taken. My son, my little tiny (ok he was born at 10 lbs .. he was never tiny) but my darling baby is 8 today.

Stop the Car!!!

When did I get old enough to have an 8 yr old kid and not be dragged on Springer. I'm still 22 right? (those damn crickets churping is just cruel)

ok, ok, reality check is in. I am 28.. going to be 29 next month. Damn, Damn Damn.

Can I give Father Time a hummer and slow this crap down?

It's so hard to believe my kid is 8.

Can you hear between the lines?

There are lots of reasons why we don’t always listen as closely as we should. Sometimes we think we know what the other party is going to say. Occasionally, we just don’t care. When it comes to significant others, I think most often it’s a combination of we think we know what you’re going to say and ‘sorry I’m only paying ½ attention because I’m doing the dishes, feeding the cat, clipping my nose hair, or vacuuming the bed (whatever) too right now.’

Recently this came to play in a few conversations I had with my beau. I present to you... He said... I heard...

He said: The last thing we need is another 5 and ½ inches of snow that is going to turn rock hard as soon as it hits the ground.

I heard: blah, blah you need blah 5 and ½ inches blah blah rock hard.
Huh what?!? Weren’t we just talking about the weather? But yeah... that I could use!

He said: You know in my head I’m still 21. So in a way dating you is like dating an older woman.

I heard: You know I’m blah blah blah dating an older woman
WTF, are you trying to tell me something? LOL You are 12 years older than ME!

------------

Now before you start to think he’s a saint and I’m a slovenly listener, please rest assured he sometimes fails to follow my zig-zagging logic. Sometimes because he didn’t hear me and sometimes it’s due to the button hook left my train of thought made.

We were talking about kids. Our kids. His daughter is 16; my son is 8, on Tuesday. Yes they share the same birthday.

We were talking about the fact it would probably be a year before we all were in the same place, maybe even a bit longer.

I blurt out... “You know… by the time I get up there.. we could be grandparents!”

(SCREEEECCHHHH CRASH) Stop the train!

WHAT? Explain yourself! he says. “Do you know something, I need to know about Right Now?”

I reassure him I am just speculating. I am not aware of any future kids, husbands or piercing that his daughter may be contemplating. But, she’d be marriageable age (or close). I could conceivably be a grandmother by the time I was *gasp* 30!! (Disclaimer: By marriage only, I am not from Alabama, Kentucky or West Virginia)

Crate 668

Possum
Originally uploaded by red clover.

Thursday afternoon at the pet store we got the last of a litter of Siberian Huskies. We'd received and sold 3 other puppies from this litter. This guy was last. We didn't have room to take him until yesterday. The story from the half insane Mani on the mountain (aka my cousin Chris) is that the dog came in about 3:00 pm.

I arrived at the store at 4:55 for my 5:00 start time. I waited around outside the bathroom for my chance to change from "casual professional" to the jeans I wear at job #2.

There was this noise, this... almost human sounding wailing. It sounded like something you'd hear in a horror soundtrack. Maybe, Pantara mixed with the gibbering of a starving vampire. It was... The BEAST

I changed and went out into the store proper. I could see right away that Chris' smile was actually just a really painful grimace. "Who's crying" I asked. It's very unusual to have an animal whine, much less this nails on a blackboard screeching.

I look in. awwww It's an adorable Husky baby. I ask Chris what's the deal. Chris doesn't know. All he knows is the dog came in and hasn't stopped crying since. If you pick it up it's as good as gold. The minute you put it down, gibbering vampire!

In the next 4 hours that damn dog cried non stop. Chris and I both swear we heard that dog speaking in tongues at one point. As a result, my patience was tested in a way it hasn't been tested since my son had colic and cried for 3 months. The dog went from:

5:00 pm Aww.. The poor thing

To:
9:15 pm What does the F*&KING BEAST eat?!?

At some point during the night I had gone to get the puppy out that was next to the husky. I came out of the room laughing hysterically. Chris thought I'd finally snapped. He asked what was so funny. I said "look! It's address... Crate 668 He's next door neighbor to the beast"

Customers looked at us oddly has we snuffled back our laughter and snickers for the next 15 mins. We really were half crazy by then.

Where delicious meets

disappointment
Originally uploaded by red clover.

disapointment. I mean REALLY! I've had bigger lumps than that in my gravy. Ok yeah, so I suck at making gravy.

Sigh.. he had such potential.


-------------
On a more serious note, two of my co-workers were terminated for 'inappropriate behavior' today. The witch hunt.. uh I mean.. investigation (say it with me class.. in - vest - i - gation) is still under way.

I have no worries. Im the 'head down, mouth shut, just doing my job, boss' no hassle kinda woman at work.

Now that I think about it, the above photo, if posted on my desk, would get me hauled into HR faster than you can say 'southern baptist'.

Grab-ass = unemployment

But not for me thank goodness.

Yesterday when I called my boss to tell him I the queen of the commode he was very short with me. He'd been in and out of Human Resources all day. You know.. the place where you get permission to fire people.

I got to work today.. before my butt even touched the chair the boss called me to come talk to him.

He says, "There has been a formal complaint filed with Human Resources regarding inappropriate sexual type behavior"

I was agog.. mouth hanging open "About ME?!?"

He says, "no dummy (yes he said that lol) not about you. But you will have to go down to HR and answer some questions"

Long story short, 2 co-workers are suspended pending investigation, and possible termination.

I'm just happy it wasn't me.

*the "no dummy" was said in a "ya goober" kinda way that was friendly and informal, not condescending. Thought I should clear that up before Shan's blood pressure went thru the roof LMAO

Sick Days = No Job

Im worried today.. I was sick last night and today, vomiting, diareah the usual kid stuff. Maybe it was something we ate. I dont know. All I do know is I laid down with him at about 5:30 am and fell asleep at some point I must have felt sick again. I woke up on the bathroom floor about noon. I called work and was ominously told that my boss was in a metting on the first floor.. human resources. This is not good. My performance is not an issued but my company takes missing work very seriously. I called work a few mins ago and spoke withy my boss. He asked why I didnt call. I told him about my son being sick me laying down with him and just not hearing the alarm clock. He said "oh" . God I hope I have a job tomorrow. I hope.. I hope ..

I hope I'll just get a formal warning type thing.. Jesus !

Just call me the Spin Doctor

I enjoy writing. No, I am not the best at it. But, damn I can make it look like you've cured cancer and defeated male pattern baldness.. and every word will be true. My annual Year In Review reports that I have to write for myself every year damn near get me nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize.

These skills often leave co-workers gapping in awe after they've compared my Y-I-R report to theirs. But hey we are doing the same work. So my rep as a "spin doctor" (their term not mine) has gotten around. When a co-worker had to write a brief "about me" for an interview in a different department he turned to me to help buff him up.

What he sent me to work with:

In my current position, I verify coverage’s and endorse policies for policy holders and dealerships. I also process paperwork for our mail team while on the phone. I have worked in (other departments)as well. In all of these departments I have gained (my company) knowledge in, (long list of company processes and proprietary stuff). I have also gained excellent public relations skills as our Relay for Life captain for three years and last year our team raised the highest amount ever for a (my company) team. This month I am rated a 4.8 and a 4.25 for the year.


After the spin:

In my current position, I provide verification of coverage, make any needed endorsements, and ensure that termination notices are sent to appropriate parties to protect our company assets. Outside of my job duties, I also process paperwork for our mail team between calls to insure we, as a department, can meet our Time In Process goals. My experience at (my company) also includes working in (other departments). This has given me a well rounded knowledge of company policies and systems. I am experienced in: (long list of proprietary stuff). Additionally, I have also gained excellent public relations skills as our Relay for Life captain. I position I've had for the last three years. I am happy to say our fund raising last year was the must successful ever, setting a new record for a (my company) team. This month I am rated a 4.8 and a 4.25 for the year.

----
Ok, so this still isn't my best work. I only had 15 mins to work with it. I did have a talk with him about these little things I like to call paragraphs.. repeat it after me, football head, Para-graphs. Sadly, he just sent the big block of multi topic text on. Hey, I did what I could.

Who Says Corporate America...

The Duo
Originally uploaded by red clover.

has no sense of humor?

There was a good natured rivalry going on in my office about Christmas decorations. The stakes.. If our section won we'd be served pizza by the other supervisors, while they were wearing prisoner's jumpers. If our section lost our Supers would have to serve in DRAG.

This was a great idea. Since my group smokes everyone else's in a decorating contest. The major flaw.. Jim (my super in blue) underestimated our sense humor. We forfeited.. in writing. Just to see this Retired Military Man in drag.

Just to show they were good sports the ladies did decide to wear the prison jumpers. Yes the blue and white stripes are honest to goodness Houston County Inmate's clothes.

Just think of what they'd be doing if they knew women had been wearing them for 8 hrs ;)

Just when you think you've heard it all..

My son, who will be 8 in a few days, announced to me tonight that he had to go poop.

Me: Son, you don't have to tell me. You can just go.
Him: I can just go.
Me: YES

Ok, so he's in the bathroom, doing what needs to be done. He calls me. I go to the door.

Me: What
Him: You know mom. When you go poop..
Me: Yes?
Him: (laughing) You know I bet it looks like your hiney is throwing up
Me: uhhh.. (how the hell do you answer that)
Him: I bet it looks like a real nasty throw up

Me: James.. I don't want to talk about this.
Him: Sorry mom (still giggling)

Give me strength... .. Please.. ..

inquisistion, coffee, and dancers

Talking with some of the ladies at work today it struck me how different woman can see things.

One woman was talking about her husband and how he’d tripped himself up when he mentioned there was a stripper at a near by club with the same name as their daughter.

NOBODY expects the Spanish Inquisition. And neither did this poor guy. His wife proceeded to grill him with such fervent brutality that it escalated into a serious problem between the two of them. Part of what she was upset about was the fact he didn’t tell her he went. Most of the problem, as she admitted, was the fact he enjoyed seeing other women naked. (WELL DUH!)

He only went once (according to him) and considering how tight his wife keeps the thumb screws I’m sure that’s right. The poor guy is doing good to have 30 mins to himself at any given time.

I thought this was pretty interesting timing… the subject of erotic dancers. My beau recently when to have his car serviced. While he was waiting he asked the guys where he could get a cup of coffee. They directed him to the titty bar down the street. And, helpfully, told him he’d pay as much for coffee as beer. LOL

So, he went to the bar, got 2 cups of coffee watched a woman do a very acrobatic dance and ended up tipping her $5 which she took from his teeth.. With her breasts. I personally would have loved to have seen it. Not because it would have been erotic, but because I can easily imagine the bright red color of his face afterward.

How do I know about this? Simple, he came home and told me. Being that we’re on opposite sides of North America for the moment, I would have never known if he’d not told me. He did, which I like.

I’m sure it helps that he was probably 90% I wouldn’t care. And in reality I don’t. I might have been more upset if I’d found out about it weeks or months later, or if he makes a habit out of it. But, in the end I still probably would have just laughed it off.

You have to have a level of trust in any relationship. It doesn’t matter if you live together or not. You can’t micro-manage every aspect of your partner’s life and time. It just doesn’t work.


So, ladies and gents? How would you react to finding out your sig other was at the strip club 3 weeks ago and didn’t tell you? ‘Fess up.. I’m curious.

Don’t look in the bag.

I thought about this story as I was telling it to my beau last night and decided it was just too perfectly me not to share.

Quite some time ago I was at the mall with my then bf. I was on my period and so had worn a tampon to be more comfortable walking around. A few hours later I got that... oh hell I gotta change this RIGHT NOW feeling. A panicked look around showed a total absence of restrooms. We were in a department store and thankfully I did spy some changing rooms. Hey, it’ll do in a pinch.

I didn’t have my purse with me but I did have a back up pad in my back pocket of my jeans. I took a bra I had purchased earlier out of its store bag and stashed it into another one we had.

I head purposefully into the changing room with nothing but an empty bag. A few minutes pass while I do what I need to do. After dropping the used tampon in the bag and not seeing any trash cans I just balled it up in my hand and walked out.

That’s when it happened. Cue up the snooty, self important sales person. She was dressed beautifully, but she had that pinched look of a woman wearing either shoes or underwear too tight. Maybe both.

I smile and keep walking... she calls after me "miss, miss... I need to look in that bag!!"

HA.. I stop dead in my tracks. She catches up and repeats her demand. I try to explain by saying "Ma’am you really don’t want to look in the bag. I just……"

Grrr she interrupted! She gives me her self righteous glare and a cold "Yes Ma’am I Do Want to Look in the Bag", carefully enunciating each word like I might be stupid.

Fine, here you are! I hand over the bag with no further worry about her feelings, sensitivities or the chance she might just freak.

She takes the bag... uncrumples it... opens it up... looks inside and … gasps. I can honestly say I watched the blood leave her face... she actually turned just a bit green. I don’t think she’d have been more shocked had she looked inside and seen a severed human head.

(My then bf was watching this whole fiasco from across the way; he is laughing openly by this time. He looks both tickled and horrified by the scene)

She says and I quote "I didn’t want to see that." in a feeble, dead pan sick voice.

I told her I tried to warn her but she interrupted me, so I thought it would just be quicker, and easier to accommodate her. Can I have my bag back now? I asked sweetly, smiling innocently.

I take the bag and head over to him. He says, "You should have told her since she already had it, to please go throw it away" ... Damn I wish I’d thought of that.

It's Monday.. ugh

Actually, the day wasn't too bad. Except for getting to work (late) and realizing I left my coffee at home. Oh and my checkbook was out of checks. And my ATM card was snuggling up to spare socks on top of the dryer. DAMNIT!!!!

The day was looking bleak. No coffee, no money, no lunch..

And then... the ultimate bleah... I began my monthlies.

This isn't the life I ordered!!! I want my refund!!!!

Here's a little ditty sure to make you grimace. One seventh of your life is spent on Mondays.

Cold Blooded Birthday

Picture 031
Originally uploaded by red clover.

Isn't he cute. Ok.. I know. It's a lizard. As Deli pointed out, "it's a mouse with scales *shudder*"

Did I mention I'm not a girly-girl? I love snakes, lizards, heck, most creepy crawlies.

My 7, soon to be 8 yr old, son's birth day is coming up. I'm going to get me.. uh I mean HIM this lovely Mali Uromastyx for his birthday. If, that is, I can finagle my boss down a bit on the price.

My mother has a 75 long tank I can use to house this wonderful guy. (For those of you that don't know... You can get 'fish' tanks in Long, Tall, or Wide. So a 75 long is not that tall. But still holds 75 gallons, it just has more floor space.)

So the birthday bash will be the unveiling of our "new" tank. I plan on dividing it in half. One half for Uri (above) the other half for Hercules, our Sudan Plated Lizard.

Yep, I'm a cool mom! Or some such.

Pop Tarts of DEATH

Allstate thinks so. The insurer is suing Kellogg on behalf of one of its policyholders, claiming that the snack treat caused a house fire that resulted in almost $11,000 in damage.

The suit, filed in Fulton County, Ga., joins other lawsuits filed in Ohio and New Jersey in claiming the pastry has caused house fires. Allstate's complaint alleges that Kellogg "negligently manufactured flammable Pop-Tarts." Allstate is also suing the toaster manufacturer, Hamilton Beach/Proctor-Silex.

While not claiming its Pop-Tarts are fire-retardant, Kellogg has denied that its pastry is the cause of any house fires.

Thank goodness I don’t work for Allstate. I mean really, Pop-Tarts?!? It’s food. Of course it’s flammable. I’m here to tell ya... I’m not eating anything that is labeled "fire-retardant".

OMG you mean if I put a pop-tart in the toaster it will get warm? Woo-freaking-Hoo this ends my days of cold clammy jelly filled toaster pastries.

More useless litigation using huge amounts of money and manpower, for nothing! You know what the real crime here is? The fact that there are people stupid, clumsy or unlucky enough to burn down their house with a friking POP-TART!!!. I am willing to bet this Georgia family is the same reason hair dryers have a warning that says "Do not use this device in the shower", or the "Do Not Iron Clothes While On Body".

I’ve eaten lots of pop-tarts in my time. I’ve eaten enough pop-tarts to build a life sized "gingerbread" house out of them. I’ve burnt a fair number of them. I’ve stood beside the toaster doing the "pee-pee dance" waiting for them. I’ve done the ‘this time I wont jump when the pop-tart pops’ staring contest with my toaster. But, I’ve never ever started a fire with them.

And trust me… If all the pot smoking teens that worship the tart haven’t burned down a million houses in munchy induced frenzies of pop-tart gorging... Well, you remember that ‘this is your brain (egg) this is your brain on drugs (fried egg)’ commercial? If those guys haven’t been burning down houses, what must that say about the people that DO manage to burn down a house with a POP-TART?!?

(Being in the insurance industry stories like this come to my attention from time to time. I do realize this is from a few years ago, but it was the first time I'd head about it)

Toxicology

My mother called today. We have received the Autopsy and toxicology reports from the coroner regarding my brother's death on 10-22-04.

Cocaine (crack), alcohol and (surprise, surprise) morphine were found in his blood. The coroner goes on to say that while the cocaine and blood alcohol content were at very high levels, it was the morphine that killed him.

In what may be the first wise decision made since John's death, my mother and their father (I'm my dad's only child, mom's first of 5) have decided not to tell my sister the results. It's bad enough she feels like she killed him. It would be terrible to get confirmation that what she gave John killed him.

My mother said she spent much of the last two months being angry at my sister. We all were all but certain that the morphine was the cause of death. This just makes it official. I told mom that being angry does no one any good. In truth, I was angry, angry at my mother, her husband, and my sister. Mostly though, I was angry with my brother.

Mom is concerned that my sister hasn't/wont get clean off the drug and alcohol problem that she has. Mom told my sister that she could move in with ME, and that she (mom) would help with the money etc. I interrupted her and advised her that she was wrong. My sister can not move in with me.

I love my sister. I love all my siblings. I love them like they are my own. But.. they are NOT my kids. I have a child. I have a hard enough time sheltering him from the bad/evil/inappropriate things out there as it is now. I refuse, adamantly refuse! to invite the kind of life my sister lives into my house.

Mom's come back "you wouldn't put up with it, She would have to stop all that" Yeah mom your right. But I also refuse to have my son around the screaming, fighting, and ass-showing it would take to make that happen. Ultimately.. My sister is a grown woman in the eyes of the law. She has to make her way. I have to make mine.

I'm keeping my eye on my navigational beacon. My son. My future. My life.

Names matter

I had two memorable customers today at ABC insurance. Dear GOD what where their parents thinking!!!!

I swear I'm not making these 2 names up.

Let me introduce.... Yung Ho Can we get a round of applause for Mrs Ho? She drives a late model nice car and has great coverage.. uh insurance wise.

Our follow up act had a memorable first name. I can't remember her last name. The call went something like this.

Me: You work for GMAC, right? Is this a lease or loan?
Her: Yes, GMAC in Somewhere State. This is a retail account, a loan, yes.
Me: Great, we have your company listed correctly. May I get your name for my documentation?
Her: Fatty
Me: uh.. could you spell that for me?
Her: (sigh) Yes that's really my name F as in Frank, A as in apple, TT as in Tom Tom, Y as in yellow.
Me: (speechless for a moment) Ok ma'am I've documented our conversation. Is there anything else I can do for you? *there was no way in HELL I was going to say 'ok fatty I've doc'd our convo'