Farmer Wilson has a blog! Ee-I-Ee-I-Oh!!

I gotta tell you bloggers, I'm only on E but doing this alphabet blog is freaking fun!  Those of you that are reading, thank you!!

So E... E... E...

I am going with my own topic tonight.  Things that make you go, eh?

We all have those moments.  When we see something and we just cock our heads to the side and go eh?

One of the things that causes this reaction from me are brand new mom who have a shit ton of energy.  They just had a baby like two damn days ago and they come out looking as fresh as a daisy wanting to run or clean the house or do stuff that would tire a person with no kids.  I had a fried like this.  She had her son and like the next day she was running around like she always did.

...eh?

Dude!  The day after I finally came home after having my son, I was so freaking tired that I was actually mad at the sun for coming up.  I honest to God stood at my window and grumbled because the sun has risen and shined in the window that I had stapled black curtains to and make my son's eyes pop open.  His eyes popping open made his mouth pop open and he had a powerful set of lungs lemme tell ya...  Ex was working nights and after he got in he would pick the boy up and watch television for like an hour and then plop the boy in bed with me.  When I was sufficiently awake, he'd proclaim how tired he was and plop down to sleep.

In all fairness I knew he was tired I really did, but the boy was colicy and up most of the night.  I was 19 and had until that moment in time had a very wonderful love affair with my pillows and bed.  So when he said he was tired most of the time I was inclined to snap on him.  This started my on/ off relationship with coffee... This has been a mutually beneficial/abusive relationship...

Anyway...

What else?... Oh!  People who do their hair like this...

And people who dress like... 

How do they have boyfriends???  People procreate with people who look like that!

  But I dress like...

And on a good day, my hair is...

but I'm still single?

eh?

People who move in front of you on the highway and cut you off to go slower than you... Okay this only kinda makes me say ...eh?  It mostly makes me say things that no lady anywhere should even know...

People who are rude mofo's to people are serving them food.  ...Eh?  Do you not know that this person could go in the kitchen and poison you fifty different ways and you're being rude to them?

Parents who let their children run around willy nilly and treat them like crapola.  ...Eh?  But I would be wrong if I just hauled off and clotheslined your kid in the throat for standing there calling me out my name or running around in circles while I'm walking and almost making me trip three times while you say "Jordan... no no." and keep talking...  ...eh?

People who eat and eat and eat food that would make me blow up like a Macy's Day Parade float but don't exercise and gain no weight... eh?

So I don't think I can BS anymore about things that make me go ...eh?  Quite honestly, the list is endless.

What makes you go...eh?

Do wah Diddy, Diddy Dum Diddy do!!

Dang it... Now I have that song in my head....

So D... D... D...

It was suggested I discuss d*ck... oh hell it's my blog, I can say it... dick... Wait, she just clarified... dickheads... Love you S but I'm so not convinced    that heads was supposed to be behind dick...

And I could blog about dick but here's the thing... I don't know ish about it.  Nope, not a damn thing except what they occasionally look like.  I can tell you how much I like it.  How much I want it.  How I envy those who have it.

But here's the thing... I just did so blog over right?

Haha!  You should be so lucky!! Nope I promised a BS blog and I'm going to deliver...

I choose... Daydreaming/dreaming... so thanks Katie!

I daydream all the time.  Have been doing this all my life.  There are a lot of things I would have been good at if I hadn't been perfecting my daydreaming.

When I was a kid I used to daydream that Michael Jackson would come an whisk me away.  He was the king of pop and to my young mind that meant I had a chance at being the Queen or pop... I could have been the queen of doo doo but it wouldn't have mattered because I would have been queen.  Then I got to high school and my king was replaced with four guys that couldn't have cared less for me, about me, whatever...

College didn't leave much time for daydreaming.  For one I was in the band and it was controlled by the world most sadistic sonofabitch.  If you watch HIMYM you know how to say that.  Anyway he was.  Won't go into details but he was.  And I met my now ex husband.  I spent most of the first half of my freshman year in his room.

My daydreaming picked up after I married him though.  Now most girls dream of the rest of their life once they're married.  Me, I dreamt of my future husband.

Yep you read that right.  Shortly after I got married I started having dreams, actual dreams, and some daydreams about a man.  A man that wasn't my husband.

It started off well enough.  He was just a guy in my dreams that I couldn't pin a face to.  His hair was varying shades going from blonde to black and grey.  His stature has gone from taller than me to slightly taller than me and his build varies from extremely thin to slightly pudgy.  His voice... his voice has never changed.  It's deep and has an accent.  A southern accent.  It was one of the catalysts for moving to the south.  I know that he's good with his hands and that he has a future as an architect or is an architect.  I know that when I travel, sometimes his face gets clearer and sometimes it gets blurrier.  I have come to think that when we are in close proximity his face is clearer and the blurry means we aren't close geographically.

If I was bored awake I might try to picture him.  I had three terrifying daydreams though.  The first, a little boy connected with this man fell out of a tree.  I saw it, I felt my heart jump into my throat.  I wanted to find that child and just hold him.  I felt like my child had just fallen out of the tree.   The second time I was in my kitchen but suddenly I was standing in a mall and I was looking at a little girl who couldn't find her parent. My ex said that he came in the kitchen I was pleading with the fridge to turn around because mommy was there. My bid to convince people that I was sane was just shot all to hell then... The third daydream was a simple one.  He came in and hugged me and I felt warm and loved.

He's not the only ting I dream about.  I have very vivid Day dreams about random stuff.  I generally turn those into story ideas.  Or blog ideas.  Or sims.

I'm huge on Dreams but Day and night.

They say that if you die in your dreams you die in real life.  I can't tell you if that's true because to date I haven't died in my dreams.  I've been shot, I've given birth, I've been in some hellatious  fights but I haven't yet died.  Well not technically but Le Petit Motre doesn't really count as dying.  If it did, I would be one dead bird. LOL.

Some people say that dreams are really just symbolic representations of what's on your mind.  Let me debunk that.  I know what's on my mind and lately it has been all over my dreams but I can assure you there is nothing symbolic about it.  My dreams are literal.  At least right now.  To my knowledge, I have never had a symbolic dream.

There are people that say that dreams are your brains way of working out problems.  I can attest to that.  I have had some huge problems that were answered by dreams.  Mostly it's me turning to look at myself and telling me what to do or acting out a solution and then turning to myself and telling myself to do what I just saw.

I can also remember my dreams.  Can you?  I may not remember them all the way through but the prolific dreams that have real key points stick with me.

So I need blog commenters.  Tell me about your views on dreams.  Come on!!

Need a closer that starts with D....

C is for Cookie, that's good enough for me!!!

No, C is not for cookie but the damn song has been stuck in my head all freaking day.  I blame Cindy for that.  Still love her though...

So here we go....

Tonight I'm going to briefly discuss an evil that needs to be swept from this earth completely.  An evil so horrendous that just thinking about it makes me shudder.  An evil so terrifying that it really should be illegal.  An evil so devastating that the mere mention of which should come with a thirty stint in the dirtiest prision around...

Clowns!!!

Scariest thing imaginable to me.  They look freaky and scary and oh my god I think I may have nightmares after this blog!

Why do parents think that clowns at a child's birthday party are fun?? Are you trying to scar the child for life at an early age?  Are you trying to say that it's okay to act like a complete fool and blow up and pop balloons in people's faces and dance around in way too big pants and big floppy shoes as long as you paint your face garish colors and funny colored hair?  Who the heck thinks they are cute and adorable??

If you can't tell I don't like those c words.  I don't know if I had a really bad experience with one when I was a kid but judging by the fact that I won't even be in the same room with one as an adult, I'm going to go with yes.  And trust me, it had to be big because I'm not the type that scares easily.  A lot of stuff that should probably shave years off my life and scare the poop outta me, doesn't really.  But Clowns... *Shudder*

My mom and aunt took me to Ringling Brother Barnum and Bailey once.  Once.  I don't like circuses either... Now you have to understand when I was a kid, going to Ringling Brothers was the shit man.  It was like crack to the under ten crowd.  Tickets were hard to come by and expensive before expensive was invented.
I spent the entire time turned around in my center ring, second row seat with my back facing the circus.  I remember a clown tried to coax me into trying to enjoy the show and I'm pretty sure I bit him.  Mommy and Auntie never again attempted that colossal waste of funds...

Skip ahead some years.  I have three kids.  My mother in law who at the time lived in NYC thought it would be a great idea for all of us to go to the Circus.  Husband had to work so he got out of it.  Sister in law had to work, so she got out of it.  I put my foot down and said no I was not going because I hated clowns and the circus was their stomping ground.  I said it repeatedly, emphatically, and almost vehemently.  And she walked all over my foot and drug me to the circus.

Thankfully for me, I did not make it inside to make a spectacle of myself.  I had a plan.  I bought a brand new outfit that had fur on it, and leopard print, the whole nine yards.  I did my part and PETA did theirs.  I walk up and got my splatter of red paint.

Oh I pretended to be mad, I even shoved the person that splattered me, got in a real fight, almost threw punches... New York City's finest escorted me to a waiting area.  Maw in law had to go in with all the kids by herself.

Little known fact.  If you get in a fight with PETA at a public event where they thrown (washable) paint on you like the circus, they really only require an apology before letting you go. (Or this used to be the deal like eight years ago.  I have no idea if this is all that's required now.  There's probably a fine involved with some of the things I shouted at them)  IT's really as simple as that.  I pretended to fume and cuss, and generally act like the little shit I can be when provoked and about five minutes before the end of the circus, I apologized.  The whole thing only cost me a cheap outfit with fake fur that I really didn't like in the first place.  Man I bitched and moaned about that outfit for months just to make sure that my cover was in tact.

But I hate clowns.  I hate them so much that my kids have missed out on birthday parties which probably were really fun but there was a clown and it was a no drop off party.  Hey kids!  You wanna see a grown woman cower in a corner?  You wanna see her beat the hell outta a person because he came near her looking like Lady Gaga's makeup dummy?  Invite me to a bday party with a clown and make me stay.

And if any of my friends read this blog and surprise me with a clown... It's illegal to talk about the stuff I will do to you.

Clowns are evil.  Pure unadulterated evil.  We need a Hands Across America to rid the world of them... Come on I know there's a celebrity out there who hates them the same as I do, won't you lend your name, time, and money to my cause?!? Let's ask Sarah McLachlan!!  She can make anything sound so horrible that your day is ruined just because she uttered the words, "Hello, my name is Sarah McLachlan and..."

I'm telling you man... something has to be done about clowns... *Shudder*

Okay, I've BS'd enough...  Ciao!!

B... Humorous B... are you ready??

I put up the status for B this morning and last night and I got a few good suggestions... Tonight I chose three of them.

Bleach Thanks to Jennifer Beauvais Osorio

Okay, so bleach... evil thing that.  It is like the serpent with the apple... of course that would mean that I am comparing myself to Eve and well... okay sure except that if you read the bible that woman had a crap load of kids and it hurt like hell... So no, I'm gonna stick with Dette...

Bleach is the best freaking thing to hit earth since sliced bread but oh so evil... so evil...

When I was a kid I was spoiled as hell.  I didn't do laundry.  Like at all.  The closest I came to doing laundry was going to switch the clothes from the washer to the dryer for my mom.  I may have helped sort them but considering I kinda a brat, I doubt it.  So when I got married, I was kinda clueless to how the whole bleach thing worked.

Husband says that laundry needs to be done.  After I finish looking at him like he has five heads and all of them are speaking a foreign, foul language, I decide, what the hell.  How hard can it be?  Put the money in, put the soap in, put the clothes in, close the lid right?

Oh how wrong we are when we pretend to know what we don't know.

Make a long story short... White navy uniforms that cost upwards fifty to a hundred bucks, your newborn son's dark blue onsies with the oh so cute blue designs, and almost a half a gallon of bleach DO NOT MIX!!!  The actually make for one really pissed off husband.  They make your mother in law who never wanted you in her family in the first place laugh her fool ass off, but seeing as how the pissed off husband is in a real position to make your life a living hell, I don't recommend mixing the three...

I also do not recommend mixing bleach and a ammonia.  Yes the clean your toilets and counters and floors like no one's business and for a closet neat freak like me that's awesome but you know what... Together, I have found that they make mustard gas.  No, not that foul smell that comes out of the mustard bottle when it's been closed up for a really long time, actual mustard gas.  Bio chemical warfare strength actually.

*Aside here-  If it's really that easy to make a bio weapon that can cause everyone who comes in contact to cease to breathe and flop around on the floor like fish out of water and possibly die from over exposure to it, why have we been loosing wars??  I mean a bunch of housewives could very easily wipe out (Cleaning pun) whole countries and there would be no problem.*

So back to topic.  I mix them quite regularly.  I have actually come up with the right mix so that I don't suffocate myself.  Several of my friends wanna thunk me over the head whenever they find out I do it, but I gotta say, seeing my floors clean and my toilets sparkling, I'll deal with the lectures.  Totally worth it.

Totally.

Boobs Thanks to Rockngranny Gordley

I don't have a whole bunch to say on boobs.  I don't have a whole bunch of boobs.  I wish I had a whole bunch of boobs.  I have a feeling that guys would like me better if I had a bunch more of boobs.

Boobs are awesome.

Here's the thing.  Why do women display their boobs and then get mad when guys look at them?  I saw a woman the other day who was showing pretty much everything God gave her save her areolas and nipples.  I mean damn.  If I was a baby, I would have probably been instantly thirsty upon sight of her.  Now keep in mind I was at the casino in Atlantic City.  An old guy walked by her and I can swear he walked slower than he did in that moment.  His eyes were all in her chest. (And they had the AC on full blast so the rest of the image didn't really need imagination.)  She's at the machine next to me and she turns to me in disgust and says, "Ugh!  Did you see that?  That geezer had his eyes all in my shirt.  Some guys have no class no matter how old they get."

Seriously,.. imagine my face here.  Imagine the self control it took not for me to have the biggest freaking koolaid grin.  Imagine how hard it was for me to not make a remark about her shirt.  Seriously, imagine me just shrugging at her. It was hard.

Boobs are great things, really they are. Boobs are the reason that a lot of people are alive today.  Of course, in that context, they are referred to as breasts, not boobs.  Boobs does not go well with feeding.  "Excuse me, I'm going to boobfeed my kid." just doesn't sound right.

Don't get me started on Breastfeeding.  I personally like breastfeeding.  Besides the fact that it keeps children alive, it gave me a diluted sense that my kids actually needed me for a little while.  When they started walking all sense that they needed me for anything was over.  My son's first steps were to the fridge which he promptly found a way to pull open and grab one of his sippy cups.  Cannot tell you how useless I felt in that moment.

I personally don't see what the big hooplah is over breastfeeding.  Okay yes I agree with people say that a certain modicum of discretion is called for.  I agree with covering both you and your baby while feeding but not because I'm embarrassed, because I really don't want people staring.  People stare.  I'm embarrassed if they stare at me anyways so I'm not going to give them an extra excuse to stare.  That is my ONLY issue with breatfeeding.

And as Forrest Gump says, "And that's all I have to say about that."

Lastly... Baking Thanks to Elaine Knight

Seriously, I could go on an on forever about baking.  Bread, cookies, cakes, you name it, I've probably baked it.  Stoves, campfires, light bulbs, I've probably cooked on it all.

Baking is a huge stress relief for me.  Eating what I bake, however has become a huge chore.

I have regrettably reached the age where eating what I cook is not fun for me.  It's functional.  baking/cooking for other people and watching them become nourished by what I created in the kitchen is what fills me with joy.  I miss eating my baked goods.  I do not miss my pants being a size 26.  I just miss eating.

Baking is something comes natural to me.  Being in my kitchen comes natural to me.  So baking is awesome.

What else can I say about baking.  Nope, I think I covered it all with baking is awesome.

So in the spirit of keeping with the oletter of the day... Bye!!

Fear...

So a few years ago, December 2009, I had Shingles... bad.  I have this horrible lump on the top of my head that looked honestly like something had laid eggs under my skin.  The rash went all the way from my forehead to the crown of my head and cause most of the hair in it's path to fall out.  If I so much as moved too fast, I was in extreme pain.  Pain that rivaled my worst contractions when I was pregnant.  It went down to my left eye and quickly spread to my right eye.  They call it Shingles.  It was bad.  The Dr. that treated me in the emergency room told me outright that for me to get it in my twenties was a rarity and that since one of the triggers is stress, I must have been under extreme stress.

I actually took a Facebook picture of how I looked before the lump on top of my head got big...

This was when the lip was swollen and the whole left side of my face hurt.  You can see where my hair started to fall out at the top.  My Dr. at the time was completely unconcerned that I described my eyes as red and yellow.  He told me to buy an eye patch.  I think it was the day after this or so that I went to the ER to find out it was Shingles and never called my doctor again.

Truth is, I was.  I had an ex husband that was acting like most ex's act which is to say $#(&.  I had a job that was more quickly becoming a place I dreaded going whereas I used to love it. I was raising three kids pretty much on my own and at the time my son treated me the way he grew up watching his father treat me which is to say like I was inconsequential to his everyday life, and I had a landlord who thought he was God's gift and he could treat me anyway he wanted to.  So yeah.  Stress.

Anyway, like I said it affected my eye.  The whites of my eye turned yellow.  I looked like I had a serious case of jaundice.  The slightest amount of daylight hurt my eyes and I had to wear thick dark sunglasses everywhere I went including into my house for up to an hour while my eyes adjusted to the now muted light.  The eye doctor they sent me to hinted that untreated I would have lost my vision.... at first.  He later said that I had damaged my eyes irreparably.  That part I told no one because I put myself in denial and told myself that he had no clue what he was talking about.

Recently I have to take day trips out of denial because my eyes are getting bad.  Really bad.  Bad like sunglasses are increasingly not helping and doing almost anything outside is near impossible.   Driving is becoming something that I don't look forward to because I can be in the middle of the road and suddenly my eyes go blurry and or my vision just blanks out for a second.  Blinking used to help clear it but it doesn't always anymore. Grey days like today actually cause me headaches because they are so bright and I've become the person that has to wear sunglasses almost into nighttime.

I have a real fear that I am going blind and bloggers, I am scared to death.  Scared like you wouldn't believe.  There isn't a damn thing I can do about it because I am now dependent on Medicaid and they don't cover adult's eyes anymore.

I have no one but my kids to rely on if I lose my sight. They aren't old enough to be able to cope with that and I feel that if they aren't 18 when I finally do go blind, my ex will use that as an excuse to take them from me.  Not that I'm selfish that way, If I do lose my sight I will probably give them to him because they deserve a life that I will no longer be able to give them.

I will be so totally alone that I am pretty sure I will want most days to curl up in a corner and die.  I have never really much thought about losing my sight but more and more it's pressing on me.  I have stopped rearranging my house and have become the person that has places for things.  On days when ordinary room light hurts too much for me to see well, I try to walk around with shades on or even with my eyes closed just to get the layout of my house.

I'm a reader.  The written word is a huge part of my life.  If I can't read anymore can I survive?  If I can't get on the computer and type out my feelings would I survive?  Even as I type this, my eyes are starting to hurt a lot.  Hurt like... almost burn.

I am scared to death and I can't tell anyone.  I tried to tell my mom once. She said I needed to wear my glasses more.  My glasses have since been lost actually.  I had to stop wearing them because they actually made it all worse.  And Like I said before Medicaid no longer covers eye care for adults so they were my last pair.  I'm no longer able to go to an eye doctor.

It's after midnight, I should go.  I need to stop looking at the screen like I'm going to find the answers I need.  There aren't really any.

And besides ending up alone and possibly in a dark world where I can't even see my children anymore, the fact that no one can tell me anything has me scared shitless...

And A is for...

Aggravation!

Chances are that since I haven't managed to spell that right all dang day and the fact that I have already had over 16oz of iced tea with Firefly Sweet tea Vodka in it, this might prove to be an interesting blog...

So as I sit here with my way too big bag of peanut m&m's (yes, I have chocolate and vodka, no I don't wanna talk about it as it will require much more vodka...) I need to contemplate aggravation...

Homer Simpson had an episode where he said "You know what grinds my gears?"  (Or was that Peter Griffin from Family Guy?  I watch a lot of cartoons)  I guess that's a good way of starting.

You know what grinds my gears?  People who pretend to be your friends but really aren't.

Everyone has one or several of these friends.  For me, I have A LOT of these people.  Mostly on my Facebook.  Most of them that I went to high school with.  They put up all these posts that require answers but then when you respond, they act like you haven't said a word.  It's like high school again.  You include me in the group but when I voice my opinion, you act like I'm the hanger on that should only talk when spoken directly to.  And it's not even their posts all the time.  I don't know about you, but I have this thing where I randomly go to someone's wall and say "Hi!  was thinking about you.  How are you?"  This is not me jumping up and down saying "I'm here!  Notice me!" this is two things.  This is me being nice because you probably were actually crossing my mind and I'm generally interested in what's going on in your life.  This is also a test.  Chances are that I have been treated like the step child that shouldn't voice her opinion even when asked by you and I want to see if you are really as shallow as you are coming across.  You have no idea how many people hit the chopping block as far as Facebook is concerned because they don't respond.

What else?  Ah!  Something that I witnessed today.

RUDE PEOPLE/ RACIST PEOPLE

Example one, my mom and I went to her orthopedic consultation today regarding her knees.  While sitting in the waiting room pretty much everyone looked up at my mom and smiled.  She indicated she was cold and one woman came over to tell her that the place we were sitting was always cold and if the couple to the side of us got up, we should take their spot as it's always warm there.  Nice of her.  My mom was called to the front for something and again everyone looked up and smiled because we're in the South and people tend to be just that nice.  While she was up, I sneezed.  If you actually know me, you know that this was not a quiet thing.  My sneezes range from a comically high pitched Achoo something that sounds like I'm trying to blow my nose out of my eyes.  I never know what one it's going to be.  Anyway, I sneezed.  Do you know not one person looked up or even muttered "bless you"?  I'm pretty sure that everyone saw me some in with my mom especially since I almost tripped over the side of a chair and face planted on the floor. Maybe it's my sense of whatever but I don't care if someone sneezes clear across the room, I say Bless you.  It's something my mother taught me.  And I know that it wasn't because everyone was in their own world because a minute later when my mom came walking back to our chairs, freaking everyone in her path looked up and smiled.

Uhm...huh?  Wow.

Example two of what I'm pretty sure was racism on parade.  We've all been to Walmart.  Don't deny it, you've been.  We all have.  I'm walking down the aisle on my way to the register and coming at me was Mexican teenagers I've seen in a long time.  Complete with the soccer jerseys.  They weren't being loud, they didn't smell, they didn't even look out of place except for the fact that they were tall and their features gave them away as clearly being Mexican.  There was an old lady walking in front of me.  Now the aisle was big enough for the two of them, the group of five (Who had formed a single file line) and the old lady, to pass each other with enough room for a mac truck to go between them.  She looked up at them and not only stopped but moved to the farthest side of the aisle opposite them and watched with horror (You really cannot mistake horror on an elderly person's face).  Then she noticed that a black woman was standing behind her and she stepped back in front of me and every other step she had to glance back to see that I wasn't too close.  I was tired or else I might have played a mind game with her as I'm apt to do to people in Wally World.  Mom said I should have looked her in the eye and said "Boo!" (My mom can be funny sometimes.)  But the fact that she was that put off by Mexicans and a black person was just really...aggravating to me.

What else?  There are so many many things that are aggravating to me.

While I find something else here's something for Rachel Who suggested tonight's topic be Apples and hinted that I could do all sorts of yummy things with them...

White Chocolate Chip Apple cookies

Unwarranted Advice

I would say that this falls in the aggravation category.

Everyone has an opinion but here's the thing.  Sometimes you need to listen to people.  I mean really listen.  Not only to their words but the tone of voice that tells you I want you to know, or I need to vent and I don't really need advice.  Yes I know that your advice is probably what I should do and it will probably lead me to sunny days and freaking happiness but dammit I don't want to hear it right now.  Of course some of my friends that unwarranted advice leads to fun, mayhem and maybe serious trouble.  But still at that moment, I don't want to hear it.  Okay... example... *Think, Dette, Think!*

Me: My husband is really an ass sometimes.
Friend: Oh?
Me: Well the other day I was having an asthma attack.  I mean I really couldn't breathe and I felt like I was going to pass out. My inhaler wasn't working and do you know what that asshole did?
Friend: What?
Me: He actually stood there and watched me fade in and out of consciousness with the phone in his hand before he called the paramedics.

(This is the part of the conversation where the 'friend' is supposed to say something to the affect of "No shit, that ass!")

Friend: You need to leave him.

I wanna say, "Bitch I KNOW that!"  Cause I do, I really do.  I knew that about three minutes after "I do" but I don't need you to tell me that.  I need you to agree with me that he's an ass and help me plot murders that look like accidents to cheer me up.  I don't need you to tell me that I need to leave him.

Okay so that's a really bad example of unwarranted advice but I claim the vodka defense. Besides, it was kinda meant to make you laugh.

I'm kinda jamming to my WMP which for once is NOT playing kissy lovey songs for once.  It's playing the kinda set list that makes me wanna get up and dance like I have black people rhythm. (there is no non racist way to describe my dancing so I'm going to let your imaginations take over that one.  *Insert devious giggle because I can only imagine what your brains are coming up with*)

Another one for Rachel...

Dutch Apple Cake

On the subject of Kissy love songs... And this is the last topic I will cover in Aggravation... The mere fact that almost everyone around me is happy in love and I still can't get a guy to pay attention to me is starting to aggravate me.  Another of my friends got engaged this weekend.  I'm happy for her.  I think it's wonderful but it's one more person in front of me in the long line of people who get to have that happiness that I crave.

EH.  I'm gonna stop there cause trust me, I could go on ALL NIGHT about that particular aggravation...

So this was 'A' aggravation... How'd I do?  Leave me a comment!

Ciao! or since the topic was an a maybe I should say Arrivederci! 

So... Sunday... Kind of a ramble... If you can keep up, you're better than I thought...

It's Sunday and you know what?  I don't have too much to blog about today.  Went to bed last night with a headache the size of Montana and woke up this morning to find it had stretched it's way from the top of my head to the base of my spine.  Not a fun morning.  I actually shed a tear when my almost thirteen year old, looking me in the eye, daughter came barreling down the stairs and gave me her usual "i'm going to knock you down pretending I'm a still a toddler that can leap into your arms" hug.  But I didn't say anything because, let's face it... my days of getting knock you down hugs are numbered with a pre teen and a tween in my house.  One morning I'm going to wake up with no back pain and my daughters are going to great me with a sleepy nod of the head instead of tackling me.  So painful or not, I'm going to take my hugs and suffer in silence...

Still nothing on the romance front but then if the adage is true, I'm not having any luck because I'm looking for it.  But gotta tell ya, it's kinda hard not to look for what you want.  That's like loosing your keys right before you walk out the door and hoping that they magically appear.

I've been waiting for my happily ever after since I was 18!  I'm tired  Where is my Doofus in tin foil??

So okay I'm pretty sure that *if* I have any new readers you might be asking why I say doofus in tin foil and not knight in shining armor...

Knight's in shining armor don't exist.

Yes you read that right.  I have known enough males and read enough romance novels to know that the guy on paper, he doesn't exist.  Sure there are blond haired blue eyes Adonis-like guys that you wish would pay you the slightest bit of attention and use their deep southern drawl to turn your knees to jelly and their well honed muscles to drag you off to bed and give you the good time you know only he can... err... or raven haired and green eyed, brown eyed, sandy haired... whichever, sorry got a little off topic there... what was I saying?  Oh yeah... yeah sure we wish that guy existed but the reality is that the perfect guy is a myth. 

There is a perfect man for each woman, (excluding the women that love other women of course.  I am not pushing heterosexuality on anyone.) but just because he's perfect for you doesn't mean he's perfect period.

I have several friends that have found their Prince Charming and you know what, I'm pretty sure that when they look at their guys, they see sunshine and daisies and unicorns flying out of their bums.  You don't wanna know what I see.  It's often times not very flattering.  THEY ARE GOOD GUYS but I don't see the sunshine.

This may be because I have a skewed view of men.  I'm not overly trustful of them because the last one I let past my walls destroyed the fortress.  I mean took a serious battering ram to the place and made a huge mess.  And ever since the great clean up, no male has made it past the outer wall.

Wow, I get off topic really quickly don't I??  What the $#(&! was I blogging about tonight?

Uhm... I went from a killer headache/backache to the perfect (nonexistent) man... okay... sure... I can work with that...

Have you ever listened to the fine print talk at the end of the dating site commercials?  I have.

And I quote... "Joining is free!  Sign up today!"

They don't lie...joining is free.  actually meeting someone will cost you anywhere from $35/month to $160/year.  Trust me I know I have a profile (sometimes two) on just about every dating site out there from Christian mingle to single parent's dot come.  Did you know there is even a site for farmers??  No shit there is... But they are the free profiles because I can't see taking my limited funds and splurging to find Mr. Right.

But on the flip side, I can't seem to find Mr. Right so is it really that wrong to pay someone else to find him for me?  If you ask my mom and the news, yes.  That is wrong because no one is who they seem to be online and those that are, well aren't they just goody two shoes?  I ask my friends and they well... they give me loving advice that starts with "Are you crazy??  Don't you dare!" and ends with "If you have to do, which you shouldn't, make sure you text me and tell me where you are and make it public and... yada yada..." (This is where I tend to tune out because my resolve to do the online thing has generally buckled under the lecture so why listen to the rules I'm not going to need to follow anyways...)

Me personally I have this thing where I get hung up on one ideal and hell if I can't get off it.  I call it the curse of being an only child and being a spoiled rotten one at that. I always want what is always just out of my reach.

Know what?  Subject change, I'm tired of talking about romance.

I wanna talk about... my birthday.

My birthday is officially 28 days from now.  I know what I want to do but there are serious odds that if I expect that, I will be highly disappointed so I think I'm going to expect a quiet night at home where I'll be routinely ignored or reminded that I'm a mom. (Pretty sure that I won't forget that)  My b-day falls on a Monday this year... boo hiss!!  I'm hoping the ex will take the kids the weekend before or after so that I can at least try to be an adult. Maybe I'll treat myself to a movie.

I am going to stop rambling now and end this.  I have jumped from A to Q and back to B all in the same blog.

OOOOOHHH IDEA!!!! I'm going to pick a letter of the alphabet each day and choose a topic and blog on that.

Insert evil laughter here...

Ciao bloggers!!

Hmmm

Bloggers I am so tired that if I actually closed my eyes right now (Which is impossible due to the very LARGE cup of diesel fuel I *think* was coffee that I had this morning.) I would sleep for hours.

Drove up to Margretsville, NC for homecoming at the church my family has belonged to for over 100 years.  We were there from 10:15 until about 1:45... So long day.  It was okay.  I really do think that I gave Sunday's there a bad judgement call because I was so young and basically hated church in general back then.  They had wooden seats that were just plain uncomfortable, service was way too early... you know, the normal bratty kid problems...

So we went up for Homecoming like I said and it was okay.  Let's leave it at that.

It was kinda of a bittersweet trip.  My cousins are moving to be closer to their children.  One is going to Upper New Jersey and the other to Texas.  The big house is up for sale and there aren't any cousins that we're close to up there anymore so I think that this is the last time we're going to see my family's home church unless we make a special trip up there which is highly unlikely to tell you the truth.

One thing that bothers me.  Over and over, one of my cousins said that I was a surprisingly good this or a surprisingly good that.  That I have really grown up... The usual things that older family members say to someone... but they alternately annoyed me and made me wonder... was I really THAT BAD as a child/teenager???

Okay yeah, I was a normal disaffected teen.  I had a complex where I seriously though that I was white for a long time.  A really long time.  The far reaching effects of this are that I don't see color barriers like some people do, but when I say I thought I was white, believe me when I say this was a bad thing.  I acted like the kids in my school who had an actual silver spoon in their mouths, not the silver colored plastic spoon I had in mine.... yeah... And that's not a knock at white people or the kids in OTHS or my friends from OTHS.  I just forgot that in reality, I was one of 25 black kids in a sea of over 300 whites and that I lived in the projects across the highway.  Made me who I am so it's all good.  Back to subject... I wasn't a very tolerable person.

I guess I didn't realize just how much of a turd I was though because quite literally everything I did brought on the comment "You turned out well", or "I didn't think you'd grow up, but you did" in some version or another and Oh man, did it really grind on my nerves to think about what I must have been like.

I also came to the conclusion in the country that I am the problem in most of my day to day dealings.  I don't communicate or in some cases, I'm sure I over communicate.  I always want what's unobtainable to me and I keep wanting it even after I realize it's unobtainable.  I think that it being unobtainable makes it even more appealing to me most times but no more. The straw that was meant to break the camel's back has officially broken it and I'm done.

If you don't want me, I will live.  If you don't like me, I will live.  If you feel like I'm not worth it, then you know what?  I will live.  It will be difficult to do so at first, but I will live.  And I will prosper.  I don't know how yet, but I will.

Crazy summer.  And It's not over yet.  The ex leaves tonight go get his mother and sister from NY to come live in Charlotte.  You may see a lot more blogs on the subject soon.  Depends on how separate I manage to keep my life and how much of a thud there will be when I fail...  We'll see.

So It's been a few days...

No, I didn't go running screaming into the night.  I've actually been keeping on the DL lately.

It's amazing how when you think you are saying one thing, other people who really love you can see past what you think you are saying to what you are really saying.  And how totally different people see the same words and take them at face value.

Last week.  Possibly Tuesday or monday when I was at one of my lower points, I sent out two messages to people in my church.  One to the Ladies Mime ministry on which I dance as apart of the group and one to the Young Adults Ministry.  In both letters it said that I needed to leave both auxiliaries because it was a tough time in life and I wasn't sure if I had it in me to continue.  Both presidents responded.  One with it was okay and I didn't need to quit.  To which I responded that I didn't know if I was going to have a place to live or custody of my kids by the end of the following month to which the response I got was it's all good, we've been there.  Don't think she was being cold...she really just had no idea that I was basically saying I was done, I couldn't go on anymore.  She responded as would most people who don't know the situation would.  Now the other auxiliary, I sent basically the same message to and she outright asked what was going on to which I told her the same thing.  Within five minutes a prayer circle was started for me.  Continued that Wednesday at church.  The fact that someone in that group honestly saw that I was saying goodbye probably before I explained why touched me so much.  They will never know that in my sea of sharks and emptiness, they were the life preservers that kept me afloat.

I used to think that if I try enough to show people that I don't know how to ask for help they might actually take the time to look a little deeper into my words.  To date, only the ladies in the Mime group have done that.  Friends that I have had for years on top of years didn't even notice that I was drowning.  I don't know if that means I didn't sound like I was drowning or they are just wrapped up in their own lives.

And that sounds cruel.  They have a lot going on in their lives.  I get that.  I more than get that.  I'm sure that there have been times in my life when I had something, anything, going on and didn't see that a friend was about to slip through the cracks.  So whatever anger I had that certain friends didn't notice my signaling for help, it's gone.  To each their own life.

I still have not talked to my son.  I can't.  I know as his mother I should be the bigger person, but I can't bring myself to do it.  He tore the lives his sister knew into pieces at the suggestion of his father and a queen sized bed.  My question is, next year when his father decides to move to South Carolina (If that happens likes he's planning) what excuse is he going to use to stay at the school he bonded with in three days?  When he doesn't get what he wants is he going to try and come back to my household because even if I am talking to him in a year, I'm pretty sure that one event will be enough for me to rail at him and tell him he had the choice to be in a school for four years and he chose to tear a home apart then now he has to bear the consequences of his actions.

And yes, I still see it as tore a home apart.  To be honest, this is the first place that's felt like home since my divorce.  A feeling that I never thought I would have.  Ever.  With one decision, he ripped that from me without even bothering to talk to me about it.  Like a king on a mountain throne, he passed down this edict and boom.  He's safe, his life is unchanged, and the lives of three people he supposedly loved are torn to shreds.  It's going to take me awhile to get over that feeling.  Right now, I don't see the light in that particular tunnel.

On a bright side, I think I finally cured myself of something bloggers.  I saw an old friend last night.  Yes I slept with this person in the past.  By past I mean what seems like an eon ago and I attached my heart to my... whatever and I formed feelings for him that I shouldn't have.  For a year I held onto the slightest feeling that he may come back and we could have something real.  He contacted me the other night and we set plans for last night.  I was a good girl, bloggers, I DID NOT rush around my house cleaning up and making everything look perfect.  I DID NOT go and put on a slinky dress to show sex appeal.  I DID NOT put on perfume so that he'd smell it and comment.  I smelled like sweat and bbq smoke as I was BBQing when he got here.  I wondered what I would feel when he got out of his car.  Would I feel that flutter in my tummy that signaled I was still sexually attracted to him?  Would I throw tons of sexual innuendo at him so that he'd suggest it and I could be bold and turn him down or submit and get some.  But you know what, I felt absolutely nothing other than pleasure to see an old friend.  That was it.  And it was great.  It felt so freeing that there isn't really another way to describe how I felt.  Now, this isn't to say that if he decided to ask me out or kiss me or whatever I would turn away.  I'll probably never do that to any guy but I'm happy being friends.

Now If I can just jump that very same hurdle with my latest crush I just might find myself back on the sanity side of the funny farm. I'm taking baby steps.  At the moment I've made a choice to not text him.  At all.  Not even to say hello.  IF I can work my fingers into other projects, I think I may accomplish that one.

Life is hard.  I swear it's hard.  Probably I make it harder than it needs to be. There's no doubt that we all make parts of our lives harder than God's intended for them to be and then look back and ask Him why He did that.  I'm recognizing that I am doing this to myself.  It's going to be hard and there's probably a cartoon path of ease right next to this path I''m traveling but you know what?  I'm going to learn much more from this path than I will from the bright sunny path.

Ciao, bloggers!

So Today

I woke up and decided that I was not going to think about the crap that my life has been lately.

At first, I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do but then I glanced at my closet and thought for perhaps the twelve hundredth time in the last six months that I should take the time to actually fold/hang the clothes that make up my very own Mt. Laundry.

Just so that you have something to picture, imagine dumping all clean clothes in a pile on your floor every time you do the laundry.  Yes, you pick and choose clothes from the pile from time to time but basically you are kinda living out of the pile because let's face it, you are way too lazy to do the right thing.  After six months, the pile is so high that one, you need a new pile just to step on top of it and two, once on top of it, you can see the very back of the top shelf in the closet very clearly... in fact, you are looking down on it.

So yeah, that's Mt. Laundry.  It used to be on the couch in the past but that just looked tacky. (shut up.)

And today, I decided I'm not going to have the passing thought, I'm going to DO something about it!

Took me roughly six hours to find my floor.  Clothes were thrown away... Clothes were put back in the wash to be rewashed, and everything that could be hanged, folded, and put away was done.  Bonus, I think I added square footage to my house!  I even washed my sheets and pillowcases.  My mom had jokes about that!  I am notorious for washing my sheets and putting them right back on my bed.  It's one of the few times my bed is made.  The other being when there might be a gentleman caller coming around.... so uh... never...

I have clothes!!  A lot of clothes.  Seriously more clothes than someone like me needs.  I don't go anywhere but I have several non church nice clothes.I even have stuff that I might wear to a club or a ghetto bbq (meaning I have a really short skirt that could be described as indecent) And I have TONS of work out clothes, but I don't work out!!  I would say I'm thinking of starting, but even I can't say that seriously since I'm sitting here eating Froot Loops for the second night in a row...

I think I'm going to tackle my bathroom tomorrow.  There is not a damn thing else I can do other than make a few phone calls.

Something else... My windows media player is hellbent on causing me to have a serious issues...  I put it on random play last night and tonight and damned if the thing didn't play every single bump and grind, sexual vision inducing song it had in it's cache!! I mean seriously??  I would skip one song and go to a light hearted song and the next three would be something that would damn near bring me to my knees because they'd catch my ear just that way.  I both love and hate that music can do that to me.  Confirmed my suspicions that I watch way too much late night television and read way too many romance novels that I get mental pictures of stuff that I haven't done in so long.

Sigh... whatever.  It was nice to have a good day and not a reasonable facsimile of one.  I had an actual stress free day.  Yay!

Goodnight!

Kisses and hugs!!