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!!

Happy New Year bloggers!

Well, as per my usual scatterbrained, forgetful self, I completely missed the new year.  Well no not completely.  I looked up from my movie four minutes in.  So I wasn't that late.

I'm feeling sluggish tonight...er this morning and I'm writing the blog that will ring in 2014 for me now because I'm pretty sure that I will be comatose all day tomorrow.  I refuse to go to the doctor tomorrow but I may not have the choice.  At eleven thirty my temp was 99 and a little after midnight, it rose slightly above 100.

I haven't hit complaining level yet.  I don't usually become the useless little baby until about 103 or something and even then if I'm wearing my mom apron it has to pack a huge punch to bring me down.

Even so I have no kids back yet so I think I am going to take a me day and try and sleep this one out.

**update**

It's not been about two hours and I've gone to get the mothers and dropped both off, I am now back home and I am going to bed.  Happy New Year to one and all and I hope that 2014 treats everyone better than 2013 did.  If you had a good 2013 I hope you have an awesome 2014!

Aud Langsigne~

Pity Party table for one... seriously. It's like a rant...

Beware this is a serious pity party.

I'm feeling invisible today, bloggers.  I have these days every now and them.  In the past the days might have stretched out to a string but today is one of those days that it hurts a little more than normal.

I am not a social bug by any stretch of imagination. I don't call anyone and sometimes if real life gets in the way of texting I will completely forget to text you until some random happening causes you to cross my mind again.

But one thing I never do, one thing I can never be accused of, is ignoring someone for over six months and only contacting them because I need something from them.

I have an app on my phone that holds all of my texts.  Like every single one unless I've taken the time to delete them.  I can go back to some people and see the very first text they ever sent me on this phone.  It ranks my conversations as well.  Most recent is at the top and least recent is at the bottom.  Every six months, I go through and delete the people at the bottom.  In my mind if they can't bother to contact me, I can't bother to keep their text streams.  If I do this twice (i.e. you texted me because you need something in June and I don't hear from you by December I delete you and you contact me in Jan only to disappear until July...) I not only delete you I stop personalizing your stream.

I love Handsent.  I can give you a background, different colors and even a specific text tone so that I know it's you when you text.  Most often if it's a personalized text tone, I will drop what I am doing to text you back.  For some people that even means if you text me while I'm sleeping, I will wake up and have a conversation with you.  Even if that means that at three a.m you wanted to talk.  I will wake up.  But those people that contact me so little are given the short default tone which at the moment is a temple bell.  might pull me to the top of my consciousness in the middle of the night but you definitely won't get me to roll over and have a conversation.  After all, I only appear on your radar when you need something so why should I let you ruin my sleep?

And that sounds harsh and a little bit petty but it's the truth.  And I didn't used to be that way.  I used to be a kind, open person that gave every one of my friends their own text tone and special background.  At the moment, twelve people have their own backgrounds, and only eight people have a specific text tone.  I will be up front and honest and say that for those nine people, the world can wait while I see what they have to say.

So where am I going with this?  What is my point?  My point today is that I feel invisible and this is one of the few days that it's rubbing me like a cactus on newborn flesh.  It hurts.  It feels like no one bloody person gives a shit that I haven't been able to say a word in almost 24 hours.  Not one bloody person that has my phone number and can text or ever has texted me gave enough of a shit about me today to ask if my fever was down or if I was feeling better.

What the hell?  Really?  I mean just that little that you couldn't take five seconds and text me?  Facebook me?  Shit like this shows me just how high I rank.  Thank you.

Do me a favor.  The next time that you need/ want something from me, why don't you wait another six months and then consider asking me.  Maybe by then, I'll feel like doing you a solid for old times sake.

Ah piss. I'm going before I start naming names...

It's raining! It's pouring!

So woke up at 2 am with a burning in my throat.  If this is the worst of what I get this winter, I'm okay with that.  I have a flu shot and a pneumonia shot as internal defense.  I hope they work.

Of course this cements my plans to stay here in the house for New Years.  I don't think I want to go out drinking and shouting if my throat is still sore.  This way I have an excuse to wrap up in the blankets of my bed and sleep in the new year.  Now if my throat decides it's not going to win the day then I will probably spend the new year writing.  I'm making decent headway on the latest story.  I also found another publisher that I'm going to submit Chasing the Duchess to.  They are looking for romance and Romance suspense.  If they break parts 2 and 3 into two different books and offer the prologue (part 1) as a teaser chapter for free, I feel like it will sell.  They'll get two books out of it and I'll get published.  Plus, Part 2 closes with Paige leaving the island with Milo unsure if he will ever find her.... In all actuality between that part and part 3 I did skip a few months... I could write a novella in the middle and be just fine.  But I need to change the ending and go back to what I originally wanted.  I changed it to something quick with a lead in to Juliet's book when I was pitching it to Crimson.  I don't like it and I personally feel that if the author doesn't like her own ending, no one else will... well except J.K Rowling when she killed Sirius... and Dumbledore...  She said she cried.  I threw the book at the wall while crying.

So back to today.  I am sitting here listening to the rain pour outside.  I know it is so very un Christian of me but I just want to crawl back in bed and forget church.  I really shouldn't be that way but I'm that way when it comes to rain.  Whatever the plan, if it's raining I want to chuck it.  I'm pretty sure this will apply to my wedding should I ever get the chance.  Who am I kidding.  Should I ever get the chance to get married again I'll probably spend the night at the top of the aisle.  They'll get there and I'll be there fully decked out with a cup of coffee talking about "come on, let's go!"

So tomorrow marks two years that I have been celibate.  I would love to be able to say that this was a choice.  Well it was.  It's a choice on the part of the men in Charlotte.  Nope, can't go there, can't blame them.  I am a little picky.  I want who I want and I don't like substitutes.  So mostly me.  But here's the thing.  I hate celibacy.  Like seriously hate it.

And I hate sex.  I'll give you a second to start breathing again.  Yes I said it.  Not quite out loud but I said it.  I really don't like the act of sex.  I'm good with foreplay, I'm good with oral but the actual act, I could really care less for.  I rarely achieve orgasm and in fact that is a totally new feeling for me as the last guy I slept with was the one to show me what I'd been faking for years.  If I were a shrink, I might attribute my dislike of the act to being raped in college but somehow I think it might go further than that. I don't know why.  Growing up, I had no interest in boys in that way.  All I wanted was to make out with them.  I would even go so far as to say the thought of sharing a bed with them crossed my mind but not in a sexual way.  In a holding me in his arms till morning kind of way...  So no, I don't think the guy in college that pinned me against the wall and forced himself on me is the reason I don't like sex.  It just seems messy and painful, and if the same ending can be achieved with hands and fingers why bother with the rest?

I am one screwed up duckling... a friend of mine once read a story I wrote where the sex scene took up like five pages and said that it made her hot, but I don't like sex.  I make my characters have sex at the drop of a hat, but I don't like sex.  Somehow, I think I might need to see a psych.   One of my friends (Another one) said that I don't like sex because I haven't done it with the right guy.  Well hell, can Mr. Right hurry the hell up and get here cause I would really love to see what people are raving about.

And in case anyone is wondering, I know I've managed to connect what? three of the letters in the alphabet blog to sex and love, but the S blog WILL NOT be sexual.  I have actually chosen a pretty cute topic.

Sigh... It's eight A.M.  I need to get up and start pretending that I want to leave my house. The kids run church today so my ex mother in law wants to go and see.  Totally not a problem.  Just means we need to be out of here by nine ish so that I can go pick her up and get to my moms so that we are on time.  Then I take everybody save my mother back over to Providence court and I come home and wrap up in a blanket and raid my DVR.

That sounds like an awesome plan.  Can we skip to that right now?

I would say stay frosty as per my usual closing but considering the rain outside right now, I'm gonna close with Don't float away!!

Ciao Bloggers.

Questions, Queries, Quotes....

It's time for the Q blog!!!  Throw your hands up in the air and wave 'em like just don't care!!!

So if you read me regularly (or as regularly as I post) then you know I have been saying that I was going to do the Q blog for some time now but I never seem to get it up. (Although I managed to have time to do a million and a half personal blogs.)  My only excuse for that is to hang my head and smile pretty and hope you forgive me.

I decided to do the Q blog on quotes that people say but most have no idea where they come from.

Let's start with a simple one.

"Don't let the cat out of the bag."

This is actually a market expression.  Many many years ago when live animals were sold at market to consumers (Think they sold you the pig, you had to make your own chops and all that no nice prepackaged stuff) Some marketers would put a piglet in a bag and sell it to you.  Well naturally, the piglet would not like being in the bag and he would thrash around and generally be in a panic.  Some retailers would substitute a cat for the piglet because let's face it, an angry cat thrashing around sounds the same as a piglet in distress.  At least that's the thought.  I don't hear it and quite honestly think the sharp claws trying to rip the bag to shreds would have given it away for me. But I digress.  The phrase was coined because naturally you wouldn't want to open the bag and a cat comes flying out instead of you seeing the piglet you bought at the bottom of the bag or rather  Give away the secret of the deception.  Hence "Don't let the cat out of the bag" means  Don't tell the secret.

"You'll catch your death."

This one goes back to the nineteenth century.  You will mostly hear older people say it.  Back then, death was such a constant presence in most households that doing something like stubbing your toe could eventually lead to death.  You could stub it, the nail could come off, most people went shoeless you got dirt under the nail which turns into an infection and boom, you're dead.  To catch it, means you were chasing it.  If you intentionally go out in cold weather with nothing warm on you were all but telling death that you were done on this earth and you were ready to die.  And a cold was the quickest way.  Nobody was exceptionally healthy so going out and getting a chill that would lead to the weakening of your already not so awesome immune system... you get the picture.

"Hell bent for leather" -Sarah Brown

Hell bent for leather does not actually seem to have an origin and many think that it is actually two phrases combined.  Hell bent means recklessly determined.  Your mom told you not to touch the pot on the stove, your gram told you the same thing, you even say someone get burned already but you still want to touch it.  You are recklessly determined to get hurt. Hell bent meaning you will go as far as hell to get your answer.  Hell for leather was actually coined by Rudyard Kipling in 1889 as a way of recklessly riding a horse.  No one knows if the leather in this case is the leather riding crop or the wear and tear on the leather saddle but most take the combined phrase to mean that you will continue on the path to destruction no matter what.

"Mind your P's and Q's"

Another phrase that people are of split minds on.  I actually explored this one years ago when it crossed my mind that I wanted to know where it came from and I found that it came from Old Ireland where there are public houses, or pubs aplenty.  They serve their beer in Pints and Quarts. Honestly I knew about then serving pints of beer but I never ever heard of a pub serving a quart of beer, so i highly doubt the validity of this origin explaination.  The second that I found was mind your pleases and thank you's  R being the Please and Q being the latter half of the phrase Thank you which sounds like Q.  The basic meaning of this phrase is mind your language.  Because using please and thank you is always the way to be on the right side of the harsh language wall.  So I guess if I tell someone to "please go eff themselves, thank you very much" I guess I'm minding my p's and q's and am therefore minding my language....

And Lastly...

"Don't throw the baby out with the bathwater!"

Let's take a trip back to the medieval times shall we?  no not the totally awesome fantastic, I might just be a little biased because I love it show, I mean the actual Medieval times.  When a lady was a lady and the silk and jewels were real and no body bathed regularly.  Yeah.  Fun fact.  June brides are and always have been so popular because June is when most people took their yearly, or bi annual bath.  If you got married in June, there was a good chance your mate was reasonably clean.  Back to the topic.  It was customary for the man in the house to take the first bath in the nice clean water.  Followed by any sons, then mom, then the daughters and finally, the baby.  Keep in mind that if this was an annual bath and most people had lice and other lovlies crawling on them the water was now cloudy and vermin infested and if you dropped the baby into the water and it went over his head you probably couldn't see the baby for the grime and cloudiness of the water.  And because everyone was such a good parent back then it was apparently common for people to toss out the bath water with the baby still in the water.  This is just my warped thinking but one if the baby slipped below the waters surface and i didn't notice, the bay is probably dead by the time I throw out the bathwater.  I'm just saying... baby didn't make a sound and I've now picked up the tub and tossed it.  Yep.  Baby is gone.

So that's the origin of some quotes that I have heard and used but had to go and look up.

Now remember guys, mind your p's and q', don't go out without a coat or you'll catch your death and don't be hell bent for leather and throw the baby out with the bathwater.

Hehe Stay Frosty y'all!!

Christmas... My thoughts

So first off, a very belated Merry Christmas, ridiculously belated Happy Hanukkah, and a maybe in progress, Happy Kwanzaa.

I spent my Christmas up in the mountains in Cherokee.  I am now foursquare mayor of the hotel and our favorite restaurant.  I find this sad but oddly gratifying.  Took the normal route most of the way up but then in the grand scheme of things I missed our exit and had to go through Maggie Valley.  If you have any fear of driving through the mountains on itty bitty roads that have lots and lots of twists with locals that know them so well they ride your ass like a proctologist in training, DO NOT drive to Cherokee via Maggie Valley.  Turn around and go back to the exit you missed.  Trust me, your passengers as well as your clenching gut and throbbing head will thank you for this bit of advice I am giving you.  On that note, I think I pissed off about five carfuls of locals in a span of 10 miles.  Go me.

Got to the hotel.  We got the same room as we had the last time.  This was not a coincidence.  Mommy requested it, because I requested it.  It's the room closest to the front door and the coffee bar.  I can drop Mommy off at the door and she can walk right in without her walker while I go park.  I like this room.  Despite the toilet paper holder that falls off of the wall at every opportunity, I like this room.  Don't know what time we headed to the casino but we started with Dinner at Selu Cafe.  We will call this Fried Chicken day number one.  We then went back into the casino.

Now I have this hang up where I hate to lose money.  Sure the bright lights and the incessant ding ding clang of the slot machines lure me in at first but generally after twenty, no more than forty dollars, I'm done giving my money to a brightly colored box.  To this end, I pull out a book and read quietly, like the bookworm I am.  Mommy works the slots, I read.  This is how it's been for years.  Even before I was too young to actually gamble but for some reason no one thought to card me when going onto the floor. (I guess I've always looked old... great just depressed myself...lol)  I managed to finish book 2 of the Wideacre series.  I still do not recommend this series.  If you can get through the first one without gagging and losing your lunch repeatedly, then you will most likely be able to get through the second one with a slight bit of gratification towards the end but the top of book three drags ass...  Anyway, I had been sitting there for about twenty minutes when my tummy decided that it decidedly DID NOT like the chocolate cake we had for dessert and since I have Lutropublicaphobia (Fear of using public restrooms unless in extreme EXTREME circumstances) so I hightailed it back to the hotel.  This was actually funny because between the Casino and the hotel lies Tomahawk Village. Yes, they went there.  They totally went there. Anyway, the speed limit for that torturous stretch of one mile is 20 MPH and there is ALWAYS a tribal Police car sitting somewhere on it.  To tell you that I gave a good goddamn if i was going 20 that night would be an outright lie.  To tell you that I was so relieved there was no police officer to see me taking the village like I had a rocket attached to the car is an understatement.

Christmas morning, or rather near afternoon, we went back fro dinner at Selu Cafe.  We will call this Fried Chicken day #2  There was no special food set out for Christmas because it's just another day for the Indian reservation.  Thanksgiving was the big day...  Ate and then went to the movie theatre between the hotel and the casino and saw Madea's Christmas.  OMG that movie is freaking hilarious!!  Madea always cracks me up but Tyler went and thre not only her and Larry the Cable guy in there together but at the end, he had the lady who "ain't got time for that"  and the young man who told all of youtube to "Hide yo wife!  Hide yo Kids!"  in it.  I about died laughing!! Decided not to give the slot machines any more of my money that night and I dropped Mommy off at the casino. Went back about eleven to get her.

The day after Christmas, now that was fun.  First off, the glorious people that decide what is to be served at the continental breakfast chose bacon.  Real actual bacon!  I dropped a piece into my hot chocolate (Which I always empty an envelope on top of and don't stir in because I like it that way) and decided I wasn't wasting my bacon just because it was now covered in hot chocolate and ate it anyway.  OMG!  unicorns farted rainbows and Martha Stewart said, "It's a good thing!"  What followed was probably the most bizarre display of me dipping my slices of bacon into my hot chocolate and chowing down.  No, I'm not pregnant, stop looking at me like that.  I will however be going over to Patty's to get my fondue set and further investigating this whole chocolate dipped bacon thing.  Then we hit the road to Bryson City ten miles away so that we could get on the Great Smokey Mountain Railroad.

Now the train itself was pretty cool.  It moved slow enough for me to get some really nice pictures of the river and surrounding mountains...(Smokey Mountain Railroad pics) but we were on the train with the Duck Dynasty-esque family of about a half a million from Louisiana and despite the fact that it was BELOW FREEZING that morning, they had every single freaking window raised on that train car.  When Mommy went to sleep, for a minute there I was worried that it was the first stages of freezing to death.  Then some train conductor God turned on the heat in ferocious blasts and it wasn't so horrible in the car.  We got to Dillsboro and did our exploring.  I got some more cool pictures and we wandered around for the hour and a half given to us.  Got back on the train and came back to the depot.  Whole trip took four hours.  It was fun.  Cold and loud but fun.  I would actually do it again in the summer or in the winter if I had about three more layers of clothes on.  Got back to Cherokee and needed something to eat so we hit up the KFC, So we'll now call this Fried Chicken day 3.  Went back to the hotel and had lunch and then I basically sacked for a bit because I could not get warm to save my life.  Even wrapped up in blankets I was still bone cold.  I attribute this to me thinking I was cute wearing my blue outfit that morning and the hillbilly family from hell making the train colder than it needed to be.  After turning the the heat in the room up to 80 and listening to mommy saw serious logs because the heat knocked her out, we went back to the Casino about nine.

Harrah's in their infinite wisdom gave us each a $20 food credit for restaurants in the hotel and let's just say that I was kinda hungry but I DID NOT want anymore fried Chicken (Small aside, fried Chicken is generally the only thing I trust when eating places because I don't do sauces and whatnot that everyone likes to cook their food in plus, I'm allergic to Garlic so it's generally a safe bet that it's there's fried chicken, I can eat.) Mommy chose slots over at the corner of the casino and when I looked up at the most delicious of smells I found myself staring at Ruth's Chris Steakhouse where they say that if you go in be prepared to spend a hundred bucks.  I have never been because I don't care if you dip the damn cow in gold and diamonds before putting it on my plate, no steak is worth that to me. HOWEVER, with a $20 food credit to take the brunt of the $38 dollar steak, I could see paying $18 +plus tax for it.

Mastication was slow because I wanted to savor it.  I didn't think to get a picture until it was all gone and there was nothing special about the plate so I didn't bother.  Left there and mommy said she wanted to stay, that she wasn't done but she didn't want me to go.  Now in all fairness, I was kidding when I said this, but I told her if she wanted me to stay past midnight when she could go to the ATM again, it would be a babysitting fee of $40.  Color me all kinds of surprised when she says "Okay!"  Insert happy dance because I walked into the casino with $100 and I walked out with $86 Go me!!!  Went to get her money and proceeded to sit at a slot machine drinking root beer until two AM.

Had to leave today because I have to take the kids to church practice tonight and dammit if at some point I jumped on the wrong highway and didn't notice until I saw a nice big sign saying "Welcome to South Carolina" coming at me.  I didn't panic.  Mommy panicked and called OnStar but in the middle of  the conversation I told her nevermind because I saw a sign saying highway 85 was 14 miles away.  I was good.  Once I got to 85 I was golden.  Caught me a couple of rabbits and made it home in no time.

So I had fun.  Did have two down spots this holiday.  On christmas morning, I found out from my cousin that another cousin's grandmother had passed away.  The fact that the woman passed away was not the shocker though.  It was the fact that my cousin never said a word.  She and I have been close all of our life and she didn't bother to tell me that her grandmother had passed.  But on that very same note, while I am hurt, I'm still not as surprised as it sounds.  All of our life if she had a family member that wasn't connected to me by blood, it was her family member not mine.  Never mind that I come from a family where if you marry the guy from three towns over his whole family becomes your famliy's family (I.E. if my new mother in law had a cousin that passed away my mother would spread the word to my side of the family that we had a cousin pass away you get it.  Your family is immediately my family's family.)  Add as many banjos and hillbilly jokes as you want, that's the way it's always been with us, but not with her.  When her father, who was the blood link between us passed away both she and her mother pulled away from our family like their membership was up or something.  It hurts.  I would have liked to have been there for my cousin in her time of need but I wasn't given the chance.  It's whatever.

The morning after Christmas, my Aunt called to say that her very best friend in the world who was like another aunt to me passed away.  She'd been sick for a long time but still it was not expected right then.  I feel bad for my aunt and for my "aunt"'s family.  They are supremely nice people.

I can't help but wonder.  Death usually rounds up people in threes.  This is two of my family members making the trip to glory with him.  Will he be taking a third from us?  I hope not.  With every fibre of my being I hope not.

Secondly, above you may have heard me describe the large family on the train as the Duck Dynasty-esque family from hell.  Let me be clear.  I have no problem with country families nor do I have a problem with the Duck Dynasty family.  The problem I have is that while the men on that show have long beards and long hair and might be on the large side of the scale they are most certainly clean guys.  There are men out here that see that these guys live in the country and have this persona of being hillbilly and they think it's cool to emulate them and come out looking like they do and smelling like they THINK these guys smell.  No!  Those guys do not smell of beer and funk.  Being on television and with wives that look as good as those women do, I can assure you they more likely do not smell like they just crawled out of the beer and vomit smelling sewer that runs under the dirtiest trailer park in America.  If you want to come out of the house in Camos and have long hair and beards and be a bit on the husky male side, fine with me but dude, wash the clothes.  Wash the beards and the hair.  Lift the folds of skin and wash there too.  Just because the look is redneck dirty doesn't mean they are dirty and neither should you be.  I can't stand anyone that smells of funk and alcohol.  I used to couldn't stand the irony smell that some men get after working hard all day but it has actually kinda grown on me like a perverse cologne.  I can't smell it for long but certain guys that have that worked hard sweat smell do not repulse me.

Sigh.  The 30th of this month will mark two years celibate for me.  I think that might be the only thing that sucks about life right now.  Everything else is good.  Being celibate sucks.  Being celibate always sucks really.  At least to me.  I could never be a nun or a priest.  I would never get to do good in my life for saying hail mary's for the impure thoughts.

And on the hilarious thought of me being a nun, I will close out this blog.  Stay Frosty y'all!!!

Okay sleepy sleepers.

One last blog before I tuck in and hit the hay.

Stomach was a little better today.  Well no not right off but it got better.  I had to break down and take a tramadol in the middle of the day.  Something I never ever do because of the sleepy element in it.  Good news!  Tram doesn't put me to sleep apparently... Yeah I can so see the look of reproach on your faces right now.  I'm not shivering in my seat.  Well yes, I am actually but that's because the AC is on so that everyone can breathe at night and my covers are screaming my name.  If life were just a little bit crazier than it already is and furniture was alive and had rights, I'm pretty sure my bed would sue reality for custody of me because honestly, our relationship has gone very downhill.  Not enough quality time by far spent with each other.  The sad thing is it wouldn't even have to sue reality, it would really need to do a joint suit against my desk chair and my bookcase.  Maybe the car.

Mom had her car for two days.  I worried that she wouldn't be alrighty okay but at the same time I was so copacetic to sit back and not do a damn thing.  I totally forgot how relaxing that is.  Of course I was maroon on Isla De Dette for a real reason but still.  I got to lounge in my bed freaking two mornings in a row.  That was probably a druggies equivalent of smoking crack... for free.

Tomorrow is the Christmas performance at church then Christmas shopping with the kids and Church on Sunday then doing Christmas with Mommy and I on Monday and I think I am going to take them to their dads house right after dinner.

Is it sad that thing I am looking forward most to this Christmas is adult time?

I'm always an adult but for the moment I'm considering my Christmas Gift that I don't have to be Mom for a few days.  I know I say this way too often for it to be considered TMI now, but I could have nekkid time if I wanted to. (I talk about nekkid time way too much, don't I? Eh oh well...)

No shit, I just sat here for a full five minutes picturing what I'm going to do with my time.  I see myself sitting in this same spot or curled up with my books.  I started the second book in the Wideacre series.  The second book is vastly better than the first one.  Beatrice was killed by Ralph at the end of the first one by the way.  I know I stopped giving synopsis (Synopsi?? Synopsises??) of it but that honestly because you didn't want to know anymore.  She helped plan Ralph killing her dad, she slept with her brother had a baby girl by him and got his wife to take her as her own, then she had a baby boy by him and got married and tried to convince him that it was her husbands son but old boy was a doctor and new better.  He got piss drunk for maybe six chapters and he figured out where the baby came from and the night he came home her mother caught Bea and her bro on the parlor room floor so she overdosed the woman on Laudanum and there went Mom.  Husband started to put pieces together and she had him committed and then she tanked the family farm and Ralph came back to kill her.  Seriously.  If Someone says you should read Wideacre JUST SAY NO!  You don't want to walk that path.  Especially if you are the type of person that has an OCD complex that drives you batshit if you don't finish a book even if it is a spectacular work of crap.

The second one is better.  The girl is secretly betrothed to her cousin who her mom thinks is her half brother but is reality her full brother and they are trying to forbid it.

God I wished I lived in the times of arranged marriage.

No I don't.  No.  I don't.

Sometimes I think an arranged marriage would be better than this lonely single act.  Can I go ahead and get my grammy for best leading actress in a Non fiction non Romance Reality-esque drama so I can retire? I would like to retire.

Slightly embarrassing moment yesterday.  Livy found my pad of paper that has two pages in it.  Last summer It was put to me that I should have some expectations as far as men were concerned and in my unique style, I wrote them down.  Like I'd forget them. Anyway, I had it in a secret spot (Which is to say I lost it.) and she found it.  I think I got to her before she read them.  Crisis averted, I know where they are now.  They haven't really changed but I know where they are now...

Okay loves.  Melatonin is kicking in.  Eyes are droopy.  Sweet dreams await me in the recesses of my mind.

I would say stay frosty but I'm shivering enough for all of you combined and the freaking air just kicked over again.  Goodnight!

By the way, I have a houseful tonight.  It's a good thing.

Twas the Friday before Christmas

And all through the house, not a creature was stirring, especially not the mouse!

So I'd like to say that I am just now getting on the computer at nine thirty because I was busy around the house and just sat down but the truth is, I lounged in bed reading.  Not sleeping but wide awake and reading.

So the girls and I cleaned my room yesterday.  I did the big stuff at standing level and they did the floor seeing as how I couldn't bend.  And then I fixed the vacuum and Livy surprised me by vacuuming the floor in here.  Aside from under my bed, or rather No man's land as I call it, my room looks very nice.  It'll probably stay like this until I go to look for something and then muck it all up again.  I try to have a neat room but here's the thing:  When I was a kid, I kept it mildly tidy because my mom would get on my ass ergo I had someone who was looking at it.  When I was in college, I kept it clean for the first few days because I had a roommate but then, Corey moved out and I had the room to myself for a semester.  To say it was bad was only scraping the surface.  It wasn't dirty never that.  I don't hoard food in my room and occasionally come out with bones, bottles, and plates no but it was messy.  Then I got a roommate again and boom I kept it tidy.  When I got married, the bedroom had it's disaster moments, usually when I was looking for something, but if he was in port I cleaned it up pretty quickly.  When he was out to see... not so quickly.  Then I got divorced and let's just say I strived to clean the bedroom once every three months or whenever I couldn't see the floor anymore... Whichever came first...

So back to today... or rather yesterday.  The room got cleaned.  I'm not sure if I hit the three month mark or I just got tired of stubbing my toes and stepping over things but it needed to get cleaned.  I changed my fitted sheet on my bed and put the other one in the wash. (I really need a second queen sized fitted sheet because having the one and then use king sized sheets until it's washed is not very good.  The king sized sheets are understandably too big and on the nights when I have a crazy dream or restless sleep, I always get tangled up in the extra cloth... Personally I think just getting a king sized bed will fix this problem but que sera...)  So I now have a purple sheet on that doesn't match a damn thing but then my sheets haven't matched in a long time.  Then the girls and I put my gold comforter that Donna gave me last year inside the velveteen duvet I bought two years ago.  That was fun. Livy actually crawled up inside it to put the blanket in.  Then we smoothed it over my bed.

So yesterday was Livy's birthday!  She got spaghetti for the night.  That is her favorite meal of mine.  Her father said that she asked him for tacos.  I guess she has a different meal per household.  I for one never liked his tacos but them I never really liked a lot of his cooking and that's not a reflection on him or his cooking.  I'm a spoiled brat who was never made to eat or try anything she didn't want to and if what he cooked didn't look or smell appetizing to me, I didn't eat it.  He never complained and I never made a big deal out of it.  I always kept something in the house for me that only I ate so it was all good.

After dinner, they got showered and whatnot and I got to go out to the movies!  Went to see Thor 2.  I'm not going to post spoilers but let me just say that the villain's minions in this movie looked like Teletubbies all grown up.  I half expected the baby in the sun to show up most of the time they were on screen.  But Thor 2 is very good.  Very freaking good.

Got home a little after midnight and immediately curled up in my bed.  OMG my sheets felt so good that I almost crawled in naked and just lay there but then I remembered my kids are in house and they come in every school day morning to wake me at 7:10 (I'm usually already awake because they are NOT the quietest children in the world but I make a good show of being sleep when they come in.  Every now and then they actually do catch me asleep though.) and it WOULD NOT be awesome if I was sprawled out in bed without a stitch of clothing on.  I only get to do that when they are at their father's house.  Needless to say, I plan to have more than a Couple clothesless days this winter break when they are over there.  I may even have a day where I pretend everything inside my house is a nudist colony... No, not really.  I'm way too self conscious for that but still it sounds fun.

I'm not eating again.  I don't know why.  I went all yesterday with not a bit of actual food crossing my lips. and i didn't feel any worse for it.  I tried to eat a pop tart this morning but it just wasn't what I wanted and I got maybe half of the first one down so yeah... waste of pop tarts.  Even at the movies yesterday all I had was a root beer and not even half of that. (That's why I never let anyone pay for my drinks at the movies.  They cost so damn much and I never finish them so I hate feeling like I'm wasting people's money.)  I'd like to lay blame on the slight tummy issues but I don't think I can.  Dr. said I have diverticulitis and some other stuff.  I have to look that up.  I will have to ask is this why I don't feel like eating.  It's to the point now where when I do feel like eating, a little bit fills me and then it hurt like nobody's business for hours after and I don't eat anymore for awhile because there is no way in hell I want to invite that pain back into my life.  At some point I'm going to have to work something out.  Although I have extra energy and my weight is dropping off me like I'm getting slow lipo I can't help but feel like all is not right in the world of Dette. I'll figure it out.  One day.

So I'm off.  I'm going to go check my weight on Wii Fit before getting sucked into a game of four.  I should get dressed as well... Mom will be here in a hour.  Ta Bloggers!  Stay frosty!