SNOWMAGGEDON!!!!

For the life of me, I will never understand why people like snow.  Sure, it's pretty to look at but here's the thing, after you're finished looking at it, you have to live in it.  And by live in it, I mean you are either forced to go out in it or it is forcing you to stay in your house.

Let me show you something:  This was Feb. 16, 2013 here in Charlotte... 

 and when it finished maybe three hours later all we had was this: 

 and people look at me funny when I scoff because THIS:

was Feb. 2010 in New Jersey and that was about three days after the plows came through.  JUst to show you that Charlotte snow means absolutely bupkiss to me, watch this:  

I'll give you a minute to stop laughing.  In all seriousness that is what I am used to dealing with in the wintertime and that particular day, I left my house as normal to go to work and three quarters of the way to the bus stop, my boss called and said that they had closed the store.  When I called her an hour earlier BEFORE I went out in that mess, she said the store was still open (we later got in a fight as to why I left my house with the weather the way it was.  She denied ever telling me that I should start out and if I didn't get to work my job would be in jeopardy from the beginning, she swears to this day up and down that she told me to stay home and wait and that if they kept the store open and I was late it would be fine...)

And one would think that I dislike snow based on the fact that if on the the off chance we get enough of it, I am trapped inside with my kids but it has nothing to do with that.  I have no problem being in the house with my kids, they ignore me anyways.

I've always equated cold snowy days with sitting in front of a fireplace (Or a tv with a fire on it) snuggling with someone and my kids have passed the "let's snuggle on the couch and watch the snow" phase, they're more into the "Yes! School is closed so I'm going to play xbox all night" phase.  And my love of sitting with a hot cup of cocoa and watching it fall died too I guess.  I wish I still felt the same excitement I felt as a kids for snow but sadly, I don't.

This little Piggy...

Seriously that's adorable.  You can't tell me that's not adorable.  Baby toes are probably about the cutest things around, but I'm doing this wrong for an alphabet blog.  I have to put the picture of the letter... But still... baby toes!!!  And I actually know those toes!  They belong to one of the world cutest little girls!

Ahem... back to the way I'm supposed to do this...

OKay so growing up, I'm sure everyone heard the song head, shoulders, knees, and toes, right?  Growing up I did not know there was another verse to that song... (Eyes and ears, and mouth, and nose...)  I often sit and wonder about stupid trivia and the origin of the song is something I've looked up a few time, never satisfied with the answers.  It seems that someone took another tune, 'There's a Tavern in the Town" First sung by Rudy Valee as the Drunkards song.  It was actually Trinity University College's school song!  Tell me what kind of college has a song about a drunkard as their school song?  And how do you get a children's song from that?

Such questions I fear I will never find the answer to.  In the meantime, I need another picture of toes.

Toes are marvelous things.  One would think that they are completely unnecessary to the human but one would be wrong.  For the first they help with balancing.  Have you ever tried to stand on one foot without your toes touching the ground?  Bloody hard to do.  I know, I just tried and I almost just fell and the vodka in my Kool-aid had absolutely nothing to do with it.  Now put the toes down and magically, you can balance... Well you can... I just nearly fell again.  This time I'm pretty sure it was the Kool-aid.

I might as well say now that I just finished watching Saving Mr. Banks and the voice in my head, which is normally, Meredith Grey from Grey's anatomy is now speaking in a slightly exaggerated British accent so it might leak out to my writing.  Also I must note that I am cracking up here because Meredith Grey does not do British very well...

I don't know about Men, but women abuse the hell out of toes.  If I were a toe and capable of autonomous thought, I would cuss out the woman of who's foot I was on.  We cram toes into shoes and cramp them into a shape that toes weren't meant to so into all for the sake of the legs looking good and making the butt look good.  Screw the butt!

Oh hang on, laughing fit...

The toes of the world are vastly under appreciated.  We walk around like they aren't doing us any good or harm, we paint them garish colors, and some of us, don't take care of them yet still let them see the light of day. (Seriously, if you have fugly toes like I do, just please, keep them covered.  No one wants their next meal ruined because they happened to look down because your neon green nail polish caught their eye and they see ashy, misshapen sausages staring up at them.

Of course I totally feel that toes get us back for people not treating them right because dude!  Have you ever banged your toe into a table leg?  That ish hurts!!  But you are bound to give your toes some serious TLC directly afterwards.  Tell me you aren't going to cradle that foot and pray the pain away.

And speaking of bouund... Did you know that in China, it was considered a thing of beauty to bind women's feet?  I mean seriously?? is this:

Look beautiful?  It would certainly fit some of the Manolos out today but damn that even looks painful.  Supposedly the Emperor Li Yu asked his concubine to bind her feet into the shape of crescents and do a lotus dance for him on just the big toe.  How this because a symbol for beauty, I haven't a clue.  Seems to me that after awhile that would have hurt so much I would have to let those puppies bark.  But however that became a sign of wealth and beauty among women, it lasted until early in the 20th century.  Around the same time that America was begging for blacks and women to have the vote and have say in government, people in China were begging to stop biding women's feet.

We stuff our feet in these:

And think we are pretty, but for centuries, women who cam from money in china, wore these:

I don't know about you, but I'll take the red heels of death. (If you've ever seen me walk in heels after a few drinks you'd understand why I say that)

Men have it lucky.  Wait, time for another toe pic...

Did I mention that I love my friends?  I asked for toe pictures and several of my friends sent me pictures of their toes!  Even after I told them that they were going on the internet and all of my million readers would see them, they said it was cool.!  I love my friends.  And By the way, I love that color!

I saw a snarky e-card once that said if a man has a foot fetish and cheats on his wife, does that mean he got off on the wrong foot?  I laughed a little hard at that.

I love the phrase Twinkle toes.  According to the urban dictionary, it refers to someone who is light and graceful on their feet.  I.E. Ballet dancers.

She:

 would be a twinkle toe. They: 

would be twinkle toes.  And even still, She:  

is my personal hero because I would still be in that position on my death bed which I would have been moved to shortly after attempting that position...

TOE PIC!!

Not that I have a foot fetish by any means but I love kids toes.  I don't think I have met a kid yet that didn't enjoy a round of this little piggy.

"This little piggy went to Market;
This little piggy, stayed home;
This little piggy had roast beef;
And this little piggy, had none;
And this little piggy cried wah wah wah all the way home!"

According the the wikipedia page on the origins of the song, it started from "The Nurse's Song" written in 1728 (See no one can complain about today's musical artists ripping off other song!  We've been doing it since the dawn of time!)

I love playing that game with babues because of the tickle factor.  I'm big on tickles and the fact that I get to tickle baby feet, well the giggle I get from most babies alone is enough to make it well worth it.  Then there's that odd baby, that looks at me with an expression on their face akin to "Who are you and why the $#(& are you touching my toes?"

Anyone notice that the middle piggy is eating a cow?  Just thought I'd put that out there...

TOE PIC!!

Men don't have it any easier in the toe department.  They like to take care of those puppies too but let a man go to a nail salon and get a pedicure and suddenly he's gay.  Because manly men aren't supposed to enjoy someone massaging their feet and scraping all the dead skin off and generally making them look and feel better.  Bollocks. (Sorry, laughing fit.  British Meredith Grey just screamed that loudly in my head!)  Personally I think that a man that can openly do that and not care about the labels' society wants to brand him with is a real man.  He's an even better man if he sits right next to his girl and gets one while she is getting one.

TOE PIC!!

Love the red and green nail polish!  Right now mine are dark purple.  Not that anyone will ever see them until I have had a pedicure but that's the color they are.  A lot like the T above.

I'm pretty much out of things to say about toes.  But let's go over the basic points again...:

1. Don't bind your toes.  They look bad.  Woman alive today who had bound feet can barely walk now so if they aren't being treated well they can't get away.  No bueno...

2. If you have fugly feet, wear socks.  I have fugly feet and toes.  I wear socks everywhere.

3. If it's winter, please wear close toes shoes. No one wants to see Frost bite piggies.  That's like looking at week old vienna sausages.

4. Treat your tootsie's nice.  Don't smash them into things.  Doctors can do nothing but tape them up and charge you five hundred dollars for a fifty cent roll of tape.

5. Take care all of you that wear those high high heels.  It's not good for your foot and worse for your toes.  You may look good but when you are hobbling around at 80, you can bet it was because of all those look good moments where you crammed your tootsies into Manolo Blaniks and Jimmy Chos... Yes I know who they are!  Just because I wear converse and nike doesn't mean I don't know the good shoe designers!

6. Don't laugh at the man getting the pedicure.  If he's that nice to his feet, think of how nice he'll be to yours...

And finally, just so we can end the blog on a good foot (Snort giggle) My last toe pic!!

Stay Frosty Bloggies!! Love ya!!  Big thanks to my friends that sent me toe pics!!!  You guys rock!!

Quick blog before bed...

Nothing special happening today.  And I mean that more than I mean a lot of things.  My seasonal Pre-Valentines Day depression arrived all wrapped up in a pretty package of unwarranted tears for absolutely no reason.  I would just be sitting and boom! I have tears rolling down my face.  Let me tell you whoever said that women cry for no reason and are better for it didn't know shit.  Random bouts of tears; I'm upset to say that this happened over five times today, and then in the middle of that crying because I don't know why I'm crying and further crying because now I can't stop crying.

If i were a man, I wouldn't want my soggy, temperamental, obviously crazy ass either!

So I changed my profile picture on Facebook.  I found a lovely little picture of cupid lying face down on the ground with his arrows strewn about him and an arrow stuck in his back a few years ago and I have to say I love it.  It's dark and gruesome but it's exactly what I would want to do if I could.

Valentines is not a good day for me but then freaking Monday through Sunday isn't a good day for me either so what does it matter?  Monday through Sunday I see my friends getting engaged, getting married, going out on dates and generally being happy that someone on this stupid planet wanted to be with them.  On Valentines day double the amount of people who do this on normal basis will be doing it and they will be televising it. Hallmark will make ten thousand movies where someone hates someone then loves them or someone loves someone and looses them then find someone else and loves them.  They will have everything with a pulse fall in love.  Syfy will cover things without a pulse and things not from this planet or solar system. Animal planet will cover the animals.  National Geographic will cover love under the sea, in the air, on the rocks, the history of love and sex, and how other countries handle love.

Thousands of romance novels will be inspired.

I don't want to be inspired to write a romance novel (I already have most of it written) I don't care about love in the sky, or in the dirt, or in Africa.  I don't even care about the history of sex.

No, What I want is someone that can make me feel like I'm not alone in this crowd we call humanity. I'm standing in the middle of half million people wearing some sort of scarlet letter that makes people stay away from me.  I want the same thing that those million people have: Love.

I have stopped hanging out with my friends on a regular basis.  Believe it or not, I used to be a rather sociable person but now, I have stopped hanging out with them and most times would rather sit here in my house making Sims fall in love and screw like rabbits because watching my friends get that special glow or secret smile when it comes to their loved ones is waking up the green eyed dragon.  You don't want to see the dragon.  I don't like the dragon.  She ends some of my best relationships.

I hate being told that he's on his way.  Dammit someone get him a GPS and a fast car.  I've been waiting for mister right since I figured out I was engaged to Mr. Oh hell no so wrong  I'm tired of waiting.  I'm tired of sighing and smiling when my awesome friends tell me to just wait, he's coming.  I want to rage and scream and throw things and it's because of that one sentence and the ones that say the same in slightly different words.

Can we just skip Valentines day?  Skip over to... I don't know... the 4th of July.  Let me be scared to death of fireworks because they sound like gunshots.  I'll take scared to death right now.  Hell I am scared to death.  I'm scared that I was slated for one chance at being with someone and that was my ill-fated marriage to my ex.  My God, what if that was the only chance I will ever get?  What if i die as only his ex wife?

Oh goody the tears have started again.  At least this time there won't be extra tears because I don't know why I'm crying or how to stop.

I need to disappear.  Turn off all communication and just go away.  But I can't do this because my ex would tell the courts that I'm a horrible mother, my mother would have a heart attack at not being able to find me, I'm sure my friends would go on with normal life.  It's not like I'm a constant presence to be missed. (They'll likely notice tat I've gone ghost if I'm gone over a month)

Ugh.  Good God, These tears are going to drive me nuts.  I sound like a head case.  I'm going to bed.

Stay Frosty or thaw out.  Do whatever you want to do.  I'm outtie.

So tired... So very tired....

So LIv has come in the room twice now and caught me sleeping at my desk.  I would go to be but it's only seven and it seems the hours until bedtime are just slipping by.  Of course that may be because when there's a quiet five minutes I fall asleep...

Pretty sure I might have just fallen asleep right then as well.  Liv came in and said "Mom!" rather loudly.  Pretty good indication that I was snoozing.

Why am I so tired, you ask?

Because the writing bug only hits me on nights when I have to be up early in the morning.  Never on nights when I have nothing to do.

I got the bright idea to totally rewrite the end of Chasing the duchess because when I tried to submit it to Crimson Publishing I had to get it in by a certain time and it wasn't finished so I kinda rushed the ending and I felt a lot of characters got lost in the shuffle and just forgotten about.  I kept telling myself that no one would notice and it would be okay but then I read it again and the perfectionist in me put her foot down and said no so three chapters and an epilogue hit the cutting room floor and I'm currently rewriting.

But the damn bug only bites me when I have stuff to do the next day.

Last night I started writing KNOWING that I had to be up at nine a.m. this morning and the next time I looked up, it was three freaking o'clock!  I itched until four, was awake at five and then again at nine when Mommy called. And usually when she calls to wake me up, I'm bright eyed and bushy tailed but I think this morning I may have mumbled and groaned because she kept telling me to wake up.

So it's bed time and the kids are going down.  I've been sipping on a cup of fruit punch vodka and Kool-aid so of course I'm awake.  By the way... It's nine o'clock now...

I'm a little bit tipsy so I'm going to just end this.  Muh-wah!  Stay frosty!  And I realize to my northern friends that might sound like I'm making fun of you but I'm not!  Stay safe friends!  Love ya!!

Super Schmaghegy Smartbutt!! Sweet Stereotypes!!!

I gotta tell you, I have been looking forward to this blog FOREVER!!!  No seriously I decided on the S blog when I was still on D... and I was all like "Aw man! I can't wait for S, I gotta get through like ten letters though!!" And here I am!!! S, S, super duper S!  Subperulous, Schmexcellent, Super S!!!

So okay, first the picture....

(There was some debate as to whether I should make this Original size, X-large, or Large.  Large won out but the more important question is who was I debating this issue with...)

Now a disclaimer.  The disclaimer is very important in this blog.  There is a video following this.  It is not for the racist, the bigoted, and the generally stupid as hell.  If you are any of those three then first off, what the hell are you doing here anyway, the way I talk about people you should have been gone like eons ago.  Secondly, if you are offended easily, get over it, it will serve you no purpose in life and certainly not on this blog.  Crap, I'm meant to be disclaiming... seriously if you don't know how to take a joke then just close this now, cause I'm about to embed a video that I find quite hilarious and it's the basis for this blog so yeah... I have disclaimed, you have been warned... now those of you that are left, go enjoy the video and I'll see you when you stop laughing... what am I forgetting... oh yeah DO NOT WATCH THIS AT WORK IF YOU DON'T HAVE HEADPHONES! I HAVE OFFICIALLY DISCLAIMED SO YOU CANNOT HOLD ME RESPONSIBLE IF YOU GET FIRED FOR PLAYING THIS!

Have you stopped laughing or should I sit back and wait a few more minutes?

So I ran across this YouTube video totally randomly in 2011 and I was floored.  I was laughing so hard I didn't even catch the meaning until the fifth or sixth time of watching.  In case you missed it My Favorite Martian is basically saying take all the stereotype you've ever heard of and blow them out your rear end because 90% of them are shit.  And it's not just the cultural stereotypes that need to be tossed out it's all of them.  

A definition of Stereotypes:

The definition of a stereotype is any commonly known public belief about a certain social group or a type of individual. Stereotypes are often confused with prejudices, because, like prejudices, a stereotype is based on a prior assumption. Stereotypes are often created about people of specific cultures or races.

Almost every culture or race has a stereotype, including Jewish people, Blacks, Irish people, and Polish people, among others.

Stereotypes are not just centered on different races and backgrounds, however. Gender stereotypes also exist. For example, if you say that men are better than women, you’re stereotyping all men and all women. If you say that all women like to cook, you are stereotyping women.

A lot of stereotypes annoy the piss out of me but I'm going to pick a few and see how long this gets.  The first Stereotype that pisses me off is the ones about those on food stamps.

Want me to say it?  I'm on food stamps.  I need government help to feed my family.  Am I proud of it? No.  Am I going to put on a shirt that says that I get government aid, probably not. As soon as I can get off of it, am I going to march in my social services office and give them their card back? Yes.  Does this mean that I am on Welfare? No!  Am I ashamed of welfare? No.

People seem to think that all government aid is lumped together in one big ball of nedy lazy people that are taking advantage of your tax dollars.  That is not true.  That is not false but as a general stereotype it is.  There are always, always ALWAYS going to be people everywhere that will be given a hand and take a whole arm.  That is not all people.  The general stereotypes that I run into if I happen to be unlucky enough to have to sit through a discussion about government aid is that the people who need it are fat lazy good for nothings that would rather draw the benefits than do something with their life. The people on Medicaid are taking the free healthcare and popping out baby after baby after baby so that the people not on it have to pay through the nose for their care to cover other's care.  That they're all druggies who can't be trusted. Oh and my favorite, the people who don't need aid can't afford lobster for dinner, but people on food stamps can get it anytime they choose to.

Seriously, don't make me laugh.  Starting from the bottom.  If I could get lobster on food stamps, don't you think my ass would have learn to love that shit ages ago?  I JUST got to try lobster when my mother took us out for Christmas dinner and I'm freaking 34!  90% of stores that accept EBT/SNAP benefits have certain items that you cannot get on food stamps.  They don't fly.  You have to pay cold hard cash for them and let me tell you most steaks (The good one, t-bone, prime rib, porterhouse, etc), lobster, fresh seafood (the stuff in the seafood case not the prepackaged stuff) and NOTHING from the butchers block counter (The fresh meat they cut for you) can be bought with stamps... at least not in North Carolina.  You get tot he register and think we're getting away with that shit and the register tells us nope uh uh, cash please.  Hell this afternoon I wasn't able to use my EBT card for some black grapes because that is what they classify a gourmet item.  And the thought that the states should restrict what you can buy on stamps, they already have but what most people are calling for is no sugar type stuff.  They already have that program.  It's called WIC.  As for sugary stuff on stamps, let me ask you this... a gallon of apple cider costs what? Four maybe five dollars?  Guess what? Kool-aid costs two bucks.  And with that small thing of kool-aid we can make drinks for depending on the household up to three weeks. (insert double stereotype that poor folks guzzle kool-aid... I will handle that later.)  The government would have to up the food stamp roof to accommodate cutting out sugary stuff. because the healthy stuff costs so much more. That is not an opinion.  That is a cold hard fact.  Is it a fair fact? No.  But it's still a fact.

Next that welfare people are just druggies.  Seriously, do I have to debunk that one?  I have never tried to get welfare in NC but I tried just after my divorce in New Jersey.  They told me I couldn't get welfare because I had kids.  I asked then who does get welfare?  The woman told me that people with no kids who are trying to get a leg up on life.  That is per a reform that took place and went into effect almost ten years ago.  And the ones that were already on the old system were being phased into the reform which meant they were going to have to stop being the stereotype that unfortunately some of them created.  No more free checks and no more people with a blatant substance abuse problem.  And I love the people who post things on Facebook about all government aid recipients need to be tested for drugs before getting their benefits.  They tried that in Florida.  They spent 26 million dollars that the country technically doesn't have only to come up with one person.  Everyone else passed because here's the thing.  If you know that you are down on the food chain enough to have to ask for help feeding your kids, you know that it's defeating the purpose if you have a coke habit.  It's the ones that don't know just how far down on the food chain that find a way to do drugs and still get aid and somewhere in the back of their heads a little piece of them knows it's not going to last because the government keeps track of everything you buy with that card.  At any given time Social services can tell me how much I spent, where I spent it, and depending on the store what I bought.  Would I mind doing a piss test if they asked me to? Honestly? No.  Because I like the majority know that doing what they don't want you to do is the best way to muck it all up.

Having baby after baby after baby... Again, those of you crying about that have you ever trued to sign up for MedicAid?  Ever?  More than likely not.  The state of New Jersey tells you flat out.  We are covering the kids on this application.  We are not covering anymore.  If you need help for these, then you should be smart enough not to have anymore.  No shit that is exactly what my caseworker in NJ told me.  In NC they did one better.  The application asks if I would be willing to be sterilized and that if I am not it may affect the decision to give me aid.  For shits and giggles I told them no I would not be willing to be sterilized. (I had my tubes tied after my youngest daughter because we could barely scrape by with them and I wasn't bringing another into the picture especially when we had a loveless marriage on top of that.) The result was me being called to an itty bitty room and interrogated about my intention to have more children that I couldn't afford and that the government was going to have to support.  They tried to go the shame route on me.  There was one loophole to this interrogation however.  I could have very easily said that religion prevented me from saying yes.  There isn't a thing they could do about it then, but instead being the sarcastic ass I am, I started laughing and told the stern faced woman that I wouldn't agree to be sterilized because I had been sterilized years prior.  That gave the woman a good pause.  To which she actually apologized for the shaming she had tried to give me.  So no, you can't get on Medicaid and pop out babies like a pez dispenser. It doesn't work like that.

Fat lazy good for nothings... I'm not even going to try and disabuse people of that one.  For every one of us that are on government aid that are trying to do something with their lives there are five more that have simply given up and are content to sit and do nothing.  And yes, I said given up.  In most cases, they go out and they get the job, but it's minimum wage and it's part time but yet the state will cut benefits like it's a full time job.  You can make $150 a week and feel good about yourself and the state will see that you are making money and cut your benefits.  Normally this would be okay but if that $150 isn't guaranteed every week, then that cut in benefits stats to gain on you.  Say you made 150 week one, 75 week two, 100, week three, and 80 the fourth week.  But your benefits were cut $600 because you had a paycheck that said $150.  Your pay adds up to $405.  You are now $195 short on what you normally have to support your household.  The government aid system was not set up to deal with flexible hours and pay.  For most families, that missing $195 is an electric bill or maybe their share of the rent.  After six months of that you are now down about $1,200.  So yeah, I say given up because against odds like that, you really can't win.  Months of choosing which bill you are going to pay that month are going to pile up like a tsunami and engulf you so the thought it is, give up go back on full benefits, catch up with bills and not try to get ahead again.  Not fat lazy good for nothings.  People who have been knocked down so many times they don't know how to get up anymore.

And I will never say another word on Government assistance again.  It's not a topic that I discuss often.

Stereotype Number two and this was mentioned with the kool-aid vs healthy drinks line.

African americans drink nothing but kool-aid and eat fried chicken.

Have you ever seen a painting or drawing of a black family gathering?  Nine times out of ten the prominent food/drink there is Fried chicken and kool-aid.  Because that's what we drink/eat.  Yeah, we do.  But we drink and eat so much more.  Fried chicken goes back to slavery times.  And let me tell you.  Back then more slave owners ate fried chicken that the average modern african american family.  Someone, somewhere put flour on a piece of chicken and threw that bitch in some hot oil and chowed down and it was the greatest meal ever.  Chicken farms.  Hell unless you were lucky enough to have a dairy farm with a cow for beef and a pig for pork you could always find a chicken.  The truth is, chicken is one of the cheapest meats out there.  To make my family chicken wings for dinner, do you know how much it costs?  About 11-20 bucks and we have left over for days. Bag of wings is 7-9 bucks and the oil is about 2.  So depending if I'm making them to eat tonight or to eat for days, I'm still spending less than $25 bucks.  Now you get a whole bunch of people together that have the stuff and know how to cook the stuff, you get a lot of fried chicken, you will get potato salad, cornbread, and there is no doubt that you will get about five different desserts.  Is this a bad stereotype?   No but it's not a totally correct one either.  Have you ever heard of a kid drinking city punch?  You think that's slang for Kool-aid don't you?  Haha no.  City Punch is another way of saying water.  I actually saw on television one woman talking about all the kids telling her that they drink city punch and she went on and on about how the sugar in their diets was going to cause them to be obese and what not.  I think the show that was airing this let her go on and on because either they didn't know what City punch was or they wanted to see just how deep this woman could stick her foot in her moth and down her throat.  She was complaining about them getting fat on water. Hmmm...

Seriously the kool-aid and chicken thing is one of my favorite stereotypes.  I can't say for why totally but it makes me laugh. And if you come from my family, Hells yeah you're going to get fried chicken , all that other mess I don't eat, and five different desserts and if no one thought to buy a few cases of soda, Hell yeah you're going to find both Kool-aid and Cool-aid.  You figure that one out...

Women are bad drivers.  Well, you try putting on your make up in those tiny mirrors.  Let's see how well you drive!  Go on, how bout you shave on your way to work.  Go on!  See how well you drive?

Blacks are better at sports and dancing.  Have you ever noticed that a lot of the dance moves that blacks do look like we're having sex or getting the crap beat out of us or running away?  I'm going to let that marinate in your brain.  As for sports.  It's mostly the ones that we're running in.  Football.  We catch the ball and twenty guys start running at you.  Hell yeah I see a whole bunch of burly guys running at me at top speed, you bet your ass I'm going to run.  Baseball. We ain't hitting the ball.  We're hitting someone that pissed us off and then we're running because their brother/father/posse is coming after us. Track. WE ARE RUNNING AWAY.  Swimming. WE ARE GETTING AWAY.  Basketball. I don't know about them but I;m bouncing my ex husbands face into the floor over and over and over again and science tells us that if we drop it from high enough it's going to hit the ground harder usually so yeah I'm going to shove the butthead's face through an itty bitty hoop and slam it on the ground.  Y'all really think we thinking about the mechanics of the sport?  Ha!!  Good one.

I'm spent bloggers.  I'm hungry, my dinner is calling my name and since the kids are away, my big ol' tub that takes forty minutes to fill is calling me too so stay Frosty, guys!! Till next time!!

The problem with morning

Is that it's too damn early.

Now, I'm not stupid enough to claim that I'm one of those people that hit the floor running at the ass crack of dawn and hope that you believe me because I know that the majority of you will sit there, call me a liar, and laugh your ass off because you know I'm lying through my teeth.  The only time my feet hit the floor running in the morning is if I have to go to the bathroom... or someone is at my front door (mostly because they want to test the theory that I will maim you before 8 am)... or one of my kids is hurt/crying.

Otherwise my feet stay firmly under the covers where it's warm and the top half of me can cuddle with the million pillows I have on my bed.

Trust me, the devil does not look up at my floor and mutter that I'm up before ten and if, by some freak happening like today I'm up, he's so totally not concerned that I'm going to do any damage.  Not at all.

The earth should be split into two parts.  Those that like getting up early and running the world while it's spectacularly bright outside.  And those that like running the world at night and we should only congregate on overcast days and at dusk when it's neither day nor night.

The people on the dark side would all go to to work/school at night and the people on the light side could do all that in the daylight.  And yes, I realize about 85% of the worlds children would be on the dark side of the earth but here's how you sort them out:

• People on the light side will get paid a sun bonus.  Their jobs will end at nightfall and they will go to bed unless they get a day pass to the the darkside.
• People on the darkside will be okay with regular pay since most of the money will be going towards lighting and electricity.  They will sleep during the daylight hours unless they obtain a day pass to the light side.

Passes will only be issued if:

• You live on the dark side and are in a serious committed relationship and need to know what your other half looks like in sunlight.
• You live on the light side, are in a committed relationship and would really like a date without the sun shining on you. Please not that couples dating less than a year will only be granted this pass once every five weeks, couples newly married will get a three day pass, and couples with children will get a nightly pass every two weeks.
• You have saved up a total week of vacation at your job.  Please note you must work for one full year to earn a week so this pass is only available once a year to either side.

Every person at the age of 18 will be required to live on the opposite side of the earth for three months to decide if they want to be in the light or in the dark.

Farmers will always live in the light.  Except the cannabis farmers.  We already will have massive lighting on the dark side so why not take advantage and live on the dark side and use heat lamps.  The hippie cannabis farmers who like organic can live on the lightside and all cannabis farmers will be require to share.

Since even in a perfect world we can't control the weather (and every single one of you Sims players need to stop sniggering...) on any overcast day when the sun is NOT shining but it's not dark dark, the two halves may mingle and rules are suspended.

NO... I haven't spent a lot of time thinking about this.  I'm serious all of that bull shit just jumped off the top of my head this morning.  I'm abstaining from coffee.  No matter what I do save drinking it black, it messes with my tummy.  And one might ask, if I know it's going to do this, why have I still been doing it?

The same reason my lactose intollerant ass still eats ice cream and milk and cookies... because they are just too good to give up and I'm weighing the pain it will cause against the feel better aspect and the feel better aspect is winning.  The feel better aspect of coffee is not winning over the pain factor because I can't do that two days in a row.  I think I'll make myself some tea...  Be right back

...and yet my dumb ass ended up with coffee.. (You don't know it but I was actually AWK for like twenty minutes... I do it often.  Sometimes my blogs are two days in the making...) Remind me of this when I'm in pain in about forty minutes...

So I'm going to go fight with Time Warner cable. Yay fun!  Out of the first 100 channels I can't see about 45 of them so I'm missing a lot of shows... you know when I actually turn on my tele and when it actually wants to work... I don't want to call them, I want to turn my boxes in for newer boxes but I have a whole season of Once Upon A Time saved on my DVR and I don't wanna lose it! Yes I'm whining.

Mystery man was back again last night.  The conversation was... interesting.  We talked about sex.  Not had it, but talked about it.  He's not happy that I don't like sex.. Not happy at all.  Anyone know someone that uses the term cow dung instead of bullshit?  MM actually used that phrase last night.  I have never used that term in my life and don't see myself converting from bullshit to cow dung...

Mmmmm coffee... I love that feeling when each sip spreads through your central nervous system and you get all warm and relaxed.

Okay, I'm going to write again.  I have someone else that I'm thinking of submitting CTD to but this time I'm going to pitch that it's in two parts.

Ta y'all.

Fuck up Mom

That's what I feel like right now.  A major league, royal class fuck up of a mother.

I have one child that thinks she's a diva who can do what she wants when she wants, in the time she wants, because she wants.

This afternoon Liv's friends came to the house to ask her to play.  She acted like I wasn't even there and said "Sure, I'll be right out."  In my day, with my mom, especially if she were standing right there, she would have knocked me down the street and told me to pick myself up and get in the house.  If I cried I would have gotten knocked out again because I knew I was wrong.  And Liv knew she was wrong.  Even her friend knew she was wrong.  Quite honestly, if it weren't for the fact that my kids need to be outside as much as possible and not on the Wii, Xbox, and tablets all the time I would have told her to go in the house.

And this isn't the first time.  I will tell her to go do something and even if I'm standing there, she will go and do something completely different.  When I remind her that she was supposed to be doing the thing I told her to do she widens her eyes and puts on that cutsey girl tone and says "Oh yeah! I forgot!" Picture every blonde ditz you've seen in the movies and that's what she looks and sounds like.  Pisses me off.  I take away all the fun stuff and you'd think that the stuff she's supposed to do would get done but no.  She find another way to slack off and give me the oh yeah I forgot crap.  And her mouth!  Sometimes the child forgets that I'm her mother and she will unleash the wrong tone on me.  You have no idea how many times I have abstained from backslapping the ever loving mess out of her.

And I know that there are some people out there who would tell me to slap the taste out of her mouth and be done with it but no.  I don't hit my kids.  I don't hit them because that means I'm madder than I should be and I have an anger problem.  I recognize that I do and if i get mad enough to actually raise my hand I don't have the turn off switch to say enough.  I run on adrenaline and usually until it's spent I can't stop.  So no, I won't hit my kids.

And then Kay. I have no idea where I went wrong.  Sometimes I don't think I did.  Sometimes  I get the feel like my child is a very high functioning Autistic child.  And there is nothing wrong with that.  Autistic children are people too and more than capable of one day taking care of themselves.  But how does one go about finding out if their child is autistic?  I have taken her to the doctor and pleaded with her to send Kay for testing and recognize that something is wrong and she sends the referral but then I get a letter saying that MedicAid won't pay for the tests.  So I can't get the tests.

But that's besides the point.  She's thirteen and she acts like a ten year old.  I love LOVE LOVE it when she draws me a picture but she draws in the manner of a five or six year old.

If I told you that my thirteen year old drew this, you might ask me how I made it look so knew after all these years.  Because obviously a child drew this.  If I corrected you and told you that my thirteen year old drew this less than a month ago, you would look at me like I had a special child.  I know you would.  Most people do.  Seriously they do.

She doesn't bathe properly.  And I have gotten in the shower to bathe with her and show how how to wash.  And those rare days which are becoming more and more that she sticks and when I say stinks, I mean that smell that the world as we know it associates with the few overweight people who can't get to every crevice on their body.  It's musty and funky all mixed together in one nauseating smell that stays in a room long after the person has left the room.  When I tell her that she stinks she says "Oh well!" or "I know" with a shrug and a face completely void of emotion.

Kids tease her at school.  Acne has hit her hard as it did with me at that age and she's little overweight as I was at her age.  She's awkward and I can't help but feel like if she wore her glasses more she wouldn't be so clumsy but then she complains that the kids call her four eyes.  If I tell her that kids have called people with glasses four eyes since the dawn of glasses she goes into conniption about how much it hurts.

And saddest of all, she has inherited my anger issues.  I've sat an watched how something innocent can make her actually mad enough to threaten someone's life.  My fear for her at school is that she's going to tell someone that she's going to kill them and she will be expelled. They have a zero tolerance policy at school now because of all the kids that went postal and if a kid so much as bites their sandwich into the shape of a gun they expel them.  Kay is just off the chain enough to threaten someone's life in the heat of an argument and there goes her school life.  

I don't know what to do anymore and tonight is one of those nights where I feel like maybe their father was right in suing me for custody.  Maybe I am a shit mom who is doing more damage than good.  

I don't know.  And that both pisses me off and scares the shit out of me...

Well... he's back...

I've been sitting here debating whether or not to actually blog about the mystery guy for the main reason that I don't actually know who is reading my blog.  I.E. by some weird twist of fate most foul, the guy that I have had a crush on for the better half of a year might read this and think I'm talking about him.

And it would be awesome if the man that has haunted my dreams for years upon years turned out to actually be him but I'm sure now, that it's not him.

Other dreams slip away as soon as I wake up and other dreams leave in large chunks but Nearly every single dream starring my mystery man has stayed on.

Last night we were at a mall.  I don't know what mall I know that I have been there before in my dreams but I don't think in real life.  The beginning is a little confounded.  My Mom was in a doctors office and my mother in law dropped the kids off to me in the car outside the mall which was also outside of the doctors office and the she said to me that my daughter K hadn't been feeling well.  So Mom gets in the car and I wheel around for a better parking spot at the mall and when she asks why I told her that there was a fast food restaurant selling whole baked chickens 3 for ten bucks.  And I take the kids inside and leave her sitting in the car.  I don't know why I just did.

Somehow we ended up at an Emergency room in the mall that was run by what I want to say were Chinese people but I don't know.  They operated out of one of those doors that half opens and they took Kay in and closed the door.  (I'm scared as hell that something is about to happen to my daughter) but in the dream I go to a hair supply store.  What I was looking for, I have no idea.  I don't know how long I was in there either but I do know a buzzer/beeper like the ones you get at restaurants when you are waiting on your table started lighting up and I went back to the half door where I was given K back.  She is a 13 yr old as tall as me don't ask me how they gave her back through the door, I can't tell you.  Then we went on our quest for the baked chicken and ended up at a McDonalds.

While my kids are harassing the people at the counter, I'm sitting at a table and watching when a man behind me starts to talk to me.  I never turned to see his face but the voice was like an old friend.  It made me feel safe and warm and loved.  Eventually he came to sit in front of me but here's the kicker.  The POV switched from mine to his.  Suddenly I was looking at myself through his eyes and I didn't look fat, or trying too hard to be cute, I looked like what I am: Just a woman.  And even I thought I looked pretty.  I had this glow around me that almost made me sparkle like The Cullens in sunlight.  He sat there and talked to me about my day and then he took my hand and told me "I'll be there soon.  I want you to know that I'm trying to get to you but everytime I think I'm close there's a roadblock in my way."  And I told him that I would be here waiting.  He then told me that I have no idea how much he loves me.  He wished he could show me; he wished he could show me.  And then he did something that I'm not sure he's done ever: we both stood up and he just held me.  Not tight, not in a sexual way, just stood there, and held me. And suddenly I was back in my body and all my feelings of resentment, and strain, and stress were gone.  I felt nothing but happy, safe, and loved for that one moment and then he said he had to go and I watched his back as he walked away.  He's still tall.  But not so much taller than me. He's lost weight since I last saw him because he's thinner from the back. Sandy light brown or dark blonde hair that's cut but not short short and he was wearing jeans and a black t-shirt.

He doesn't have an accent anymore.  I take that to mean that he's from down here as the Southern accent doesn't stand out to me anymore. Once in the past he had a British accent but I had just finished a movie set in England so that might have had something to do with it.  Most other times he's had a twang or a Southern accent.  Last night he was just talking and there was no accent that stood out.

And as I watched him walk away, there was no crying, no longing or holding out my hand to pull him back, because he said he'd be here soon and that's what I clung to.

And then my kids came back from the counter with the manager who looked like Idris Elba and I woke up because my mother in law was calling me.

I am a good girl who believes in God and all that I *supposed* to believe in but I can't understand why it is that I can't find this guy or that he apparently can't find me in any other place than my crazy ass dreams.  Why does He let me develop crushes on men but make it so that they don't want me.  Being alone sucks ass.  I might as well be the freaking Sahara Desert because no one wants to be here.

Maybe his appearing is to shore me up since Valentines days is quickly approaching.  It will be here in exactly one month from today and there is no way in hell that anyone is going to ask me out.  I'm not that lucky.

Where are you mystery guy?  Next time we dream meet can you tell me what roadblocks are in your way?  Maybe I can help you get through them.  It's more than I want you.  I need you.  I think you are the safety line that keeps me from spinning off into full blown crazy but the rope is starting to fray.

Ugh, blogging didn't help and I still never got my baked chicken!

Stay Frosty Bloggers.  Or stay frosty out there because I'm about to turn up the heat here. Ciao!

What has television sunk to...?

So I'm sitting here watching this new TLC show called 90 day fiancee.  These American guys have at one point in their lives traveled and met these Russian girls and they fell in love and have been communicating for about six months to a year.  Now the girls have obtained 90 day visas to America and they have to get married in that time or be deported.

The first thing I want to say is Shame on you TLC.  I have said that before.  I said that when they came out with Breaking Amish because those people had not been practicing the faith they were professing to leave for at least ten years by the time the show started.  TLC is exploiting Americans and assuming right off that we are all ignorant and just plain stupid.  They further assumed we were when they came out with Amish Mafia.  But I digress...

Seriously?  How do you spend a few days with someone and then a year online and decide you want to be married?  That kind of commitment takes serious work.

Say I met and fell in love with a guy from the country.  I am a serious city girl.  Cannot tell you how serious I am about being in or near the city.  If and I mean if anything jumped off between us, I would have to go out to his element to see if I have a total nervous breakdown at the screech of a bat or the howl of a coyote.  Provided that after a night in the country, I wasn't stark raving mad, we might try for a weekend.  Then I would have to do some type of vacation with him.  All factors have to be explored before the choice of marriage even comes up.  He has to interact with my kids, my family, my friends. I have to interact with his family, his friends.  Because I believe that a wife should be the religion her husband is, I would need to go to his church to make sure I am comfortable. It's just so many factors.

There is no way that I could "Get to know" someone over the internet only.  And even if that were possible, I could not fly to a separate country and cram what should be a year of dating or more into 90 days and conclude it with a wedding. And there's no way that I could do it on television.

One of these girls is highly upset that her "Fiance" is a Mormon that lives with his parents.  First off, I applaud the Mormon religion for abstaining from sex until after marriage.  That's a good way to ensure that there aren't any oopsies.  He explained to the viewing audience why he still lives with his parents.  He works on an oil rig or something like that and is rarely hime.  It makes no sense for him to pay for a place of his own.

First of all on that.  If you are rarely home, why are you looking to get married? You aren't ever there and you are bringing this poor girl from another country and expect that she stays completely faithful to you while you are away for weeks at a time?  Do you think that after you've forced your decision to do this on your parents that it's going to be a happy happy joy joy situation at home while you are gone?  No, mom and dad are going to try hard to adjust to this person that doesn't speak their language but calls them mom and dad.

Second of all, the fact that you are very secure in your faith and okay with not sleeping with her until you are married and she says outright to you that you should forget your religion just one night and sleep with her.  That she wants you and she doesn't want to wait doesn't raise any flags?  Really?  Right there that says to me that in about three weeks from the night you give in, she is going to come up pregnant and you are going to be trapped.  Run dude!  Run!  So then you work out a thing where you now have an apartment with her but again you are clinging to your faith and your best friend is going to share the living room with you while she sleeps upstairs and she's not the least bit happy that you both are out of your parents house because you still won't sleep in the bed with her. RUN, Forrest! RUN!

I didn't even keep up with the other guy and his girlfriend slash wife to be.  All I see in this show is a couple of god digging foreign women and some stupid as hell men.  I realize that this how our race gets diversified but there's got to be a better way.

I mean these are just my thoughts/  Am I biased that even these women that I perceive to be gold diggers can land a man and I still can't, yes.  I freely admit that I am.  I am biased, I am jealous, I am green with envy.  That doesn't change the fact that I think the whole premise of this show is shit.

Ah whatever!  Good night Bloggers.  Sleep tight.

Rice Cakes and coffee....

Good morning bloggers!

Despite everything, it IS a good morning.  I woke up. I'm breathing, my kids are alive. The world is spinning, and there will be sunshine for the Panthers to play this afternoon.

I'm not a Panther fan per se, but I DO live in Charlotte and they are the local team and their colors are kinda okay so I guess I'm cheering for them today.  Besides, it's been almost 20 years since I rooted for the 49ers to win anything.  I only championed them in high school because a boy that I liked then and I was trying to get in good with him.  It didn't work.

Personally I think that football is one huge game of overpriced catch but far be it from me to down it for anyone else. If I were to ever find a guy and he wanted to spend Sunday afternoons in front of the tele watching the game, I'd make him snacks and then go about my business. It's a man's thing in my opinion. (Of course this didn't stop me from totally knocking down the other girls when I have to play powderpuff football in high school.  No clue what position I played I just know they tossed me the ball and I ran... sorta like Forrest Gump...)

So I'll not say I'm excited for the game because in reality I'm not but it would be awesome if they win.  This would spur the city to really make serious improvements to Bank of America Stadium.  They've wanted the Super bowl here for years and the Panthers making it to the bowl is just the inspiration they need to get on it. Let me tell you, if it ever happens and I'm still living in a house and the superbowl comes to Charlotte, I am so renting out my house for a week.  They say you can make like a grand a night.  Yes, I'm an opportunist like that.

So anyway, I'm sitting here drinking coffee and eating rice cakes.  They are about the only things I'm putting on my stomach right now.  I made Fried chicken wings last night with shortening and they seemed to go down and stay down but then I had a glass of milk and seven cookies.  I don't know what happened but oh my damn.  I expected the cramps and the well... you know because it always hits when I have milk (Actually not so always since my colon started acting up.  It's really a hit or miss thing.) but something said grab the big pot off the shelf, you're gonna need it.  So imagine if you will me sitting on the potty while also hugging a big red spaghetti pot.  It was not pretty, it's was not awesome, and to make matters worse, it happened three more times during the night.  I had no idea a body could throw up that many times.  I'm serious.  My experience with throwing up has always been one good one and then just dry heaves.  I can handle dry heaves.  I cannot handle my body finding stuff to throw up at all hours.

As I always do, when I'm not feeling well, I arranged the pillows on my bed to feel like my Mr. Right was there in bed holding me.  Nothing sexual, just so that it felt like there was another body there, holding me and making me feel not so alone in all this.  I hate being alone when I don't feel well.

Sigh so after this rice cake, I'm going to get dressed for church.  My xMIL didn't call yesterday so I don't have to go get her for church.  Kinda yay, kinda boo.  I like it when she comes to church.  I love my nieces.  I love how they come careening around the corner screaming "Aunt Dette!" and give me hugs.  I love it when my own kids give me running hugs too.  I'm going to miss that when they get too old for hugs.  I like hugs in general.  The ones you get from someone bigger/stronger than you that ask nothing from you but just go on forever.  Those are my favorites.

The world needs more hugs.

Okay well, rice cake finished, I'm going to get ready for church.  Enjoy your Sunday, bloggers!  Stay Frosty!

The Random things that Roam aRound in my bRain....

If you didn't figure it out from the title, this is the R blog and the subject is going to be random things that I think about that start with R!! Yay!  Fun!!

So Random things that start with R....

Random People

Wow, that sounds like I'm about to just name random people and call out the attack squad doesn't it?  Hehe no, I'm not... or am I??  LOL.  No. I mean actual people that are just so random, you have to love them.

Personally Random people are my favorites among my friends.  Everyone has a random friend.  The one that can look you in the eyes for the briefest of seconds and say the very thing that is floating across your brain but they make it sound funny and not sarcastic and rude which is how it sounded in your brain... That's your random person.  The person who always has a one liner that comes out of nowhere and makes everyone rofl, THAT'S your random friend.  I have a couple of them.  They are some of my best friends actually.    Everyone needs one or two.  In my opinion, they spice life up kinda like Emril thinks he's doing when he throws something in a pot and screams "BAM!"  (I've had his spices, they aren't all that)  We all need spice in our lives.  Even the quiet librarian type that wears the froudy clothes and big glasses.  Yes, she needs spice and chances are she simply hasn't found her random friend yet.

Being called Random is not an insult.  You know how the "I'm so popular everyone should bow down I can do whatever I want and my shit doesn't stink because I'm a cheerleader" girl (no, I like them, the sarcasm hanging all over that last sentence was purely coincidental...) always turns to her friends and points out the outcast and says "Ohmigawd!  That guy is soooo random!" (admit it, you said it in a valley girl, stuck up sort of way and if you didn't before you just went back and did...) Well, that guy should be thrilled that that itch thinks he's random because I think being random is awesome.  I was actually called random once as an adult.  I was sitting on the stoop in the development we lived in and I said something and one of the women looked up at me and said, "You're kinda special.  You're just so random."  Now I get that she thought she was insulting me and I could have let my face fall and acted hurt but I wasn't going to give her that.  I looked up and told her that being special and Random were two of my best features.  That she never knew what she was going to get from me and it just meant that she would have to keep on her toes and dust off her brain to try and figure me out.  That sad part about that was maybe five people around her understood that I turned her insult back on her but she never did.  That's the beauty of being random.  No one knows what you are going to do or say next.

Now onto the next r...

Road Rage

This a very funny r and one that I... reportedly... suffer from but I gotta be honest with you... I don't suffer from it at all.  As a matter of fact, I enjoy every minute of it.  What? I do!  There is something really special about road rage that releases a whole lot of stress for me.  Other people feel tired after a bout of road rage takes them over, me? I feel like I could drive across the country and back again.

Now don't get me wrong, my road rage has almost gotten me in trouble a couple of times.  The first time that I can remember it nearly getting me in trouble was in Newport News, Va. We used to live there when Randy was stationed at Norfolk Naval Base.  I was on my way to Langley AFB via highway 64 to do some grocery shopping and needed to get out of my lane to the next so I could take my exit and get there but this dumpy white woman in the next lane was riding my six.  I sped up and so did she, I dropped back and so did she.  Despite the fact that I had a signal on that she saw, she refused to let me come over.  And i know she saw it because in my rearview I could see her stupid grin.  No doubt she thought she could have some fun with the nigger woman and yes I can say it like that because you have no idea how many people I met in Virginia who had no problem calling me that.  Anyway, I missed my exit, a fact I made abundantly clear by my gesturing and cussing and I saw her give her passenger a malicious smile.  That was it.  I had tried to play nice.  I had tried to be a good person and a good driver but she wanted to be a bitch so okay, I could play that game.  There was no one behind me so I hit my brakes, which she wasn't prepared for and swung behind her.  I didn't threaten her, I didn't do anything in my car that would suggest that when I caught her, I would do her harm but I followed that woman very close on her tail well through the Hampton Roads. She got over, I got over.  She sped up, I sped up.  I rode that woman's bumper like she was a big ol bar of chocolate and I was a hungry PMSing fat girl.  The entire time I wore this wide malicious grin that probably made me look like the joker.  She even thought that she could hop off the highway and lose me but no. I kept up.  She ran lights, I ran lights.  We did this for maybe an hour.  Finally she drove into a police department parking lot and I guess she thought that I was going to keep going and let her go but I pulled in right behind her.  She pulled into a parking spot and see I was young and dumb so I blocked her in.  A cop who was watching came over and inquired what was going on.  I got out and told him that I  had been on 64 and had tried to get over because I needed to get to Langley and this woman had ridden my six so hard that I couldn't get over and I missed my exit so I decided to give her a little back and that I just wanted to ask her why she would do that to someone she didn't know.  That I hadn't threatened her in any way and the only reason I could think of that she was do that to me was because I was black.  She further proved my point on that when she jumped out and told the cop that this Nigger has followed her and was going to kill her.  The cop looks back at me and says to her. "With a baby in the backseat?  She was going to kill you?" (I had JoJo in the back.  He had peacefully slept through all of this but then Jojo always did sleep through my driving.)

The woman went on to tell the cop that she had run red lights to shake me and had done illegal turn arounds and gone the wrong way on one way streets (That she hadn't done.  I'm not that stupid and never have nor will be) and the cop is standing there listening to her.  Finally he looks back at me and says "You said you just wanted to ask her why.  Ask her."  I swear on all that is holy that this woman didn't realize the hole she had dug herself into and she looked the cop right in the face and said that they were just having some fun with the nigger.  I had no clue what happened after that because the cop told me to get in my car and go and to be nice and not scare the white people anymore.  He was white and he said that with a smile so I smiled and drove off.  I don't know nor do I care what happened to her.

My next forary in to memorable road rage was in Cali.  Another person on the road.  I can't remember if they were white or black.  I just know it was a man.  He tried to come over into a lane I was already in and I honked at him.  I let it go, he pulled along side me and flipped me off.  Then he tried again to get over, I honked and sped up.  He pulled along side me again and this time made some really rude gestures.  I reached over and took the one and only gun toy my children have ever had (Which looked incredibly fake.  Seriously this thing was bright orange) and pointed it at him.  To say he hung back was an understatement.  He nearly hit his brakes.  I lost track of him.  I guess it was about two or so miles down the road that I see red and blue lights.  And I'm like WTF? I'm not speeding, I'm not doing anything wrong but nevertheless I stopped.  Cop get out and approaches the car and say he needs me to throw all weapons out.  I'm like what the hell are you talking about?  He asks me point blank do I have any guns in the car and I told him only this one and I held the kids toy gun out the window.  Now the look on his face was awesome.  He actually fell out into laughter.  When he was able to compose himself he says to me that they got a frantic 911 call that there was a woman in a green taurus station wagon pointing guns at random people on the highway.  Did I know what he was talking about.  Now I don't lie to cops.  I usually tell them the truth.  I told him yes I knew who would say that but he tried twice to run me off the road so yes, I pointed this at him.  It's not my fault that he couldn't tell a bright orange gun from a real one.  The cop looked at the toy and told me that I was not nice and not to do it again.  Then he says into his shoulder walkie talkie that it was a toy gun not in any way real looking at all and explained it.  It may have been static but from the smile on the cops face, I think that was laughter coming from dispatch.  I don't know what they said after that but he said yes and told me that he needed to bring the gun toy wit him.  He said I could pick it up and named the station.  I told him I don't like guns when they finished laughing over it, they could trash it.  He let me go and that' was my last memorable trip into road rage and the story of how my son lost the only gun toy he ever had in my presence.

There have been other trips into road rage but none as funny as those two and I have made some serious mistakes, such as flipping off a police officer in NYC.  But we live, we learn.  Just remember, be careful who you decide to play a game with on the highway, you never know what their limit of road rage is.

That's it, I have no more r topics... I kinda do but I don't.  And I think I've rambled on long enough.  Stay Frosty!!

My face is numb...

I just came from the dentist part 2 and I swear, if I bite my damn tongue one more freaking time I might just scream... which will probably cause me to bite my tongue harder.

Of the 11 cavities I walked into the office with, seven have now been conquered.  I still have three that need to be pulled, and four on the bottom right that need to be drilled and filled.

One might beg the question, just how did I let my mouth get so bad?  The answer is quite simple in it's complexity.  For the first, up until now I have hated dentists with every fibre of my being.  The hurt, the drill scared me, and they weren't all nice.  Second, after dealing with Dr. Peterson and Tarab with my childhood and four years in braces I didn't want anyone in my mouth like that ever again.  

Third, when you are a military spouse, Tricare (or whatever the hell it's called now) doesn't give a rats ass about your teeth.  They care about the servicemembers teeth and if you complain loud enough they might pretend to care about your teeth but they really don't.  They will send you somewhere to find out about the pain in your mouth but they won't pay for them to fix it.  At least not enough.  As a military spouse, I had two root canals done on the same tooth (Which I STILL find superfluous because I thought the point of the first one was to take out all of the roots.  What they hell was left to hurt?) They covered a good bit of the root canal so that the out of pocket wasn't too bad. But they will not pay for any of the crown.  Without the crown there is no point to the root canal because all of the work that caused all of the pain then goes to hell.  I learned this the hard way.  In the end I was left with a shell of a tooth that broke and caused pain to the point of me getting a bottle of grey goose and a pair of pliers and solving my problem all by my lonesome one night.  Was it the sanitary or sane thing to do?  Hell no but it stopped the pain and the bottle of vodka was way less expensive than another dentists visit.

Fourth and probably the biggest reason why I haven't been to the dentist in quite awhile, is in New Jersey, when you are on Medicaid, the only way for you to see a dentists as an adult is to have gotten your medicaid while you were pregnant.  I wasn't pregnant when I got my medicaid so I could not see a dentist.  It didn't really bother me so I didn't pursue trying to see one.  When I got down here to Charlotte, I assumed it was the same way.  When my mouth began to give me real grief, I asked my regular doctor if there was anything she could do because someone on Facebook told me that in extreme cases, your doctor can pull a tooth or have it pulled if needed.  My doctor looked at me and asked me why I didn't go to the dentist with the pain and when I told her I didn't know I could, she just stared at me.  What kind of state won't allow adults to see a dentist?  It made about as much sense to her as it did to me.

So when I found that I could see a dentist here I was not thrilled because I knew that I wouldn't be able to go in say this tooth hurts can you pull it and be done.  NO they wanted to do check ups and cleanings and x-rays which led to 11 cavities that needed to be filled and three that needed to be pulled and a partial that needed to be ordered.

I'm not going to lie and say I wasn't scared out of my mind at the first appointment but they saw that and they worked with me.  I had a few requests.  Don't walk me through it.  I don't care, I don't want to know, just do it.  Second numb me with everything you got.  Third let me listen to my music.  They've accommodated on all fronts with that.  I'm comfortable, it doesn't hurt and I can tune everyone out with my music and it's all good.

I may not ever skip, hop, and jump to the dentists office anytime in my life but as long as I have Dr. Marti at Dentistry of the Carolinas, I won't run away either.

The stuff from the needle is beginning to wear off and the tramadol I took before hand to cope with cramps and the after effects of the drill is not playing nice with the rest of the novacaine.  I'm going to go lay down before I fall out of my chair.  I bet you that as soon as I lay down the freaking plumber is going to get here.  That is how my life is.  Talk to you later bloggers.

Stay frosty...

I have absolutely no excuse...

Except that it was Winter break, I had no kids and I lost myself in I guess Middle Earth or wherever Game of Thrones takes place...

Seriously Game of thrones is freaking awesome.  If you don't mind mindless and violent killing for reasons that may or may not make sense.  Wow, i am a true product of my generation... Extreme voilence no longer makes me cringe...

As a matter of fact George R.R. Martin set the standard with like five deaths in the first five minutes and now if he goes more than twenty minutes without killing someone I start to see it as a soap opera.  I don't like soap operas.  It threw me off because in like ALL of the pictures, this really brutally hunky guy with long hair is sitting on the throne looking dangerous but the truth is he never sat on the throne and he kinda dies.

Was sick for New Years.  My throat felt like it was on fire for like two days and still does occasionally.  Had to cancel my dentist appointment because I woke up with a fever that morning.  It was no bueno.  I did some reading up on WebMd and think I may have just battled strep on my own which I might not have because I'm thinking that that infection, unchecked, spreads... Not sure but what else is WebMd for but the scare the living piss out of people and convince them that they have either battled through terrifying diseases or are about to die horribly from them?

I am hungry. I need to get up and go eat something but my butt is glued to the chair like I can't move if I want to.  That makes absolutely no sense but you get it.

It's funny.  Last Friday I looked at my friend Patty and said, Vacation needs to be over.  I need my kids back. Saturday I sat in the house like ALL DAY because the ex was supposed to drop them off at my house and he was... busy all day and called me (after letting me sit at home for like seven hours waiting) to ask me if he could drop them off at church the next morning because he didn't know when he'd be home.  I said fine and tucked in for another night of watching Game of Thrones.

Last night I had my three and my nieces over for dinner and it was freaking awesome!  I had five kids in my house and no one cried, no one got mad, and no one got hurt.  Everyone got fed... well everyone but me cause they eat like a horde of locusts...  It was all good

This morning, however, the thought bounced into my brain that vacation was not NEARLY long enough and I needed another week to sleep.  This is the problem with not having a regular job.  My bed and i become way too friendly.

I would love more than anything for my bed and I to become overly friendly with another person but I digress...

So I think I am going to finish GoT and then go back to writing.  I cannot concentrate on my story while I have the what if's from not finishing in my head.  Why is that show so addicting.

Also I've been doing some thinking.  I have one or two friends that I actually know that talk to me like they are holier than thou and should be in MENSA while my intelligence can't even put two sticks together and make fire and it pisses me off.  Like seriously pisses me off.  One of them is a guy, a cute guy.

When I was growing up, the way of thinking (which was drilled into me from an early early age) was if your boyfriend/fiance/husband/guy you like says something that is lame and makes you want to look at them like they have nine heads, you chuckle and let it go.  If they talk to you like you couldn't tie a shoe if left to yourself.  you let it go and maybe save it for later when you need a rage inspiring feeling.  If they act like an ass, you let it go until you just can't anymore.  Totally unhealthy I know  Totally self degrading, I know but still how I was raised none the less and it's hard to break home training that's so long in the tooth.  Do you know how hard it is to be raised that way and know that it's wrong so that every part of you wants to tell people who are talking to you like that it's pissing you off but your mouth remembers the home training?  Like seriously every part of me is screaming "shut up you asshole" but my mouth.

I seriously think that one day my home training and they way I actually am deep inside are going to give me a heart attack.  A big one.  And I'm going to live through it but my home training is going to be shot to hell.

Sigh...  I heated up a steak.  Let me eat it quick so that I can go give my mom her car.  For the next two days I won't have wheels and this suits me perfectly fine.  I think I may play the sims.... or finish Game of Thrones.  That show is incredibly hard to watch when you have kids in the house.

Stay Frosty!!