Thursday, April 26, 2012

CAPTAINS LOG 01/26/2010 Old People Hate Me


My day started like any started with the song "I Like Big Butts" blaring into my ear. My cell phone has decided that when it is charging it flips back and forth between vibrate and my ring tone...So at any time during the night I could be vibrated...or I can get jiggy wit' it.

So at approx 6:45am, the cell phone goes off and at that same son--also known as Baby Huey--hurtles himself down the stairs, and is saying as he walks past my bed: "Hey--I have to be at the school at 7:30am today--ok?". Friggin awesome...

I trudge into Sophie's room--the whole time doing the "Pee Pee" dance, because Huey charged in to the bathroom before I could relieve my child-bearing bladder...Sophie is sprawled out like a crime scene victim in her bed...I flip the light on and say "Hey--Bubby has to be at school early, you need to hustle!"....she doesn’t even open her eyes... but instead she growls..." said there would be a 2hr delay."...I advise her that I was wrong (ggrrr) and that she needs to get her scrawny ass moving...she then says "Call the school and tell them we need a delay, they will listen to you because your scary." Ok...thanks daughter...

I finally handle my business in the bathroom, and send Huey out to start the car...I am currently driving the NISSAN!--(say it like you are yelling GODZILLA!)....the NISSAN! is held together with duct tape and prayers...however...since the Kevorkian mobile decided that overdrive was just too stressful to go into, and may need a new transmission. So Huey goes out and about 5min later he comes in and says "The car won’t start."...I stare at him...its 7:21am...he repeats himself...I then say--"what did it sound like?"---side note: I have no friggin clue why I asked him this--I’m not a mechanic...but for some reason I thought I could hear his interpretation of the sounds the NISSAN! was making--and miraculously diagnosis the problem.

Huey takes his hand and acts like he is starting the car (I guess that is how he was going to be able to get into character)...and he sputters and grunts and does something like "Uuuu--uuuu--uuu". clue what that means. I throw him the keys to the van and tell him "ok...start the Kevorkian mobile, and lets roll out." The whole time I am in a panic, now...what did Willie tell me about the van not acting right in reverse?...We load up, and I shift it into problems...I'm feeling like its going to be ok...So I drop off various kids to 2 different locations and head home...Willie will be home by then and can make the NISSAN! all better.

Willie comes home, and I tell him everything--he goes out and the frickin car starts...of course I'm an idiot, and damn my uterus for not allowing me to understand an engine...thank God it can find socks, lost keys and safety pins--since it doubles as a homing device for the family unit.

I leave, go to the IGA gas station--freeze my ta-tas off pumping gas...get my NECTAR OF THE GODS and head soon as I get over the bridge at 55--heading towards Pine Village...a rusty old truck with an old man driving it, pulls out on front of me. I of course curse at him...but settle into a slow pace behind him and wait it out until I can pass. Welp--for anyone that drives that road--it ummm gets passing was not an option...

I follow his old ass to Pine Village, and I had already decided that today called for a donut or some kind of sugary lard based treat...he pulls in to the store when I do. I get out...he gets out... he has a cane and I feel kinda bad for all the names I called him while following him into town. We are both deciding on what treat to get, that will kill us fastest---and I go to walk up and I will be damned if he doesn’t cut in front of me...I take a step back...I mean, who am I to be mean to an old man right? I was raised right damnit...So I wait...and he counts out $0.89 in nickels and pennies to the guy behind the counter. I may have been thinking about just kicking him for a minute--I CAN ADMIT THAT.

I leave, and since he has such a great head start on me---which even now I can’t figure out how his old ass got to his truck so fast as slippery as it was...but anyways...SURE enough--I am behind him again...heading towards West Lafayette. BIGGG SSSIIIGGHHH....

Now...this is where the story takes a turn...and I know you have all been waiting patiently for it...I get behind him and I was kinda close behind him--BECAUSE I was getting ready to pass him...and all of a sudden he slams on his brakes! I panic and slam on mine--we are now both sideways in the middle of the highway. I get out of my car, and slop thru the mush and snow to make sure our cars did not touch---and apparently he is a spry old man because he was out of his car as well.

I walk up to him and say "did an animal jump out? Are you ok?"’s natural for me to assume an animal jumps all know why...anyways... he has his cane and looks at me and says "I slammed on my god-damn brakes to get you off my ass!!"....I would have loved to have seen my face...I’m sure it was one of "hey there little sweet old man..." then to "I will drop kick your ass in a minute fartknocker!"...

I look at him and say "well I am sorry—see, I have been stuck behind your truck for the last 30 minutes between Attica and West Lafayette--and I may have lost my patience and wanted to pass you." I didn’t even bring up the whole store incident...cuz you know--I’m trying not to work myself up into a lather. I say "Will you be able to get your car back on the highway properly?"...and he says "Why don’t you give me a shove with your car, since you like being on my ass.".......yeh.....

I’m not proud of what transpires after this point...I can say that now...but remember I was provoked--and anyone that knows me-- knows that if that would have been someone under the age of fricken 100 yrs old I would have gotten busy on their ass.

I walk over near him and say "Sir, there is no need to be rude...Im sorry...I will just get back in my car, and I will get ahead of you."....AND I SWEAR TO GOD...he takes his cane, and runs it across the top of his car and flings snow in my face. I am now standing there...with a wet head and smeared make up...So I look at him and say "if you f*cking fling snow at me one more time, I will throw your senile ass down and break your hip".....I know...(please pray for my soul)...he then says "when I was your age I was taught respect for my elders."....I then say...with a smile "When you were my age you were taught from cave drawings, so get your prehistoric ass in your car and we will call it a day."...I am pretty sure he muttered something about me being a "smartass bitch"...not sure--I was growling so loud I couldn’t hear well.

So---I turn around and walk away to my car...and he has now gotten his geriatric ass into the car and has the door open and looks back, just in time to see me fall and bust my ass on the concrete...I just laid there in the middle of 26, for a minute deciding how long it would take for a semi to just hit me...and I hear him cackle and cough, cackle and cough --and yells "Thank God you have a fat ass for that fall little girl!."....then he flings snow on me with his tires and leaves.

Wanna know what the f*ckin morale of this story is??? Why in this world is it ok for us to put down dogs when they get "too old"---but yet you think about euthanizing one little old man, and you’re all of a sudden Satan’s mistress?

I guess I wont be volunteering at the old folks home anytime instead I will sit here with my wet rear end...wet bra (he was surprisingly accurate when he flung that snow down my shirt)...and be glad of my youth--and my general sunny disposition--I mean there is NO WAY I will ever be a mean ass old woman...geesh...(quit laughing!)

A Glimspe Into My Normal World


I receive a text from a number that I do not know…I don’t panic much because I have recently lost quite a bit of my contacts, but instead of saying “Who is this?”—which I feel like I am asking “Do you matter in my life” whenever I am forced to ask—I instead go along with the text in hopes that it will become evident who it is. BYW—this just happened approx 30 min ago.

Text: “Did you mean what you said Sat.?”
Me: “Sure, I always mean what I say-unfortunately-lol”
Text: “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
Me: “Ummm yeh, I usually make clear decisions.”
Text: “Does your family know?”

….now…I must admit I am starting to panic a little…the number kinda looks familiar, but thanks to damn cell phones we are all lucky to even know 9-1-1.  I remember the days of having to memorize everyone in my life full phone numbers and THEN still dial it by hand on a rotary phone…

Me: “Do you think I should tell them?”
Text: “Well yeh, it’s a pretty big decision”

…ok…now this feels like a soap opera…I cant wait for the next text—to find out what big decision I am about to make in my pseudo life! Yay me!

Me: “Ok, when do you think I should tell them?”
Text: “Well they are going to know something isn’t right, come on!!!!”
Me: “Hmmmm maybe tonight?”
Text: “Ok well text me and let me know how it goes!”
Me: “Ok, I will!”….I then go about my business, thinking “well that was a nice break from reality”…

15 min later…from same number…which is a Chicago area # I now know.

Text: “I heard its painful, so maybe you will get a sympathy vote from them…lolz…anyways, text me later, I will continue my research—I still don’t know how they take that little bit of skin and make it into a penis.”


Sigh…so the moral of this story is: Don’t be afraid to ask “Who is this??”…and also apparently my new name will be Charles soon.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

I've Got Big Balls.

Wowser...I haven't blogged since Feb of 2011? I apologize my faithful stalkers and creepers...I am going to try and do better! I don't have anything specific to rant about today...just some curious thoughts that have been rolling around in my head, and trying to leap from my lips--but will settle for my fingertips.

I know I have been guilty time and time again of poor body image... after all I am a female. Duh. I try to keep my insecurities from pouring over onto my very impressionable young daughter. Sophie is the EXACT opposite of fact she is everything I wanted to be when I was her age. She is long legged, clear skin, blue eyed, thin, and well..let's face it--she's nicer then I have ever been in my life. I often just watch her skip around the house in a fuzzy, pink, happy cloud of happiness. She is a pixie. I was not like that. I was short, chubby, freckled, and didnt like my life. I told her this once--trying to explain to her to never feel less then awesome--to strive not for perfection, but for peace.  She found it hilarious that I was opposite of her when I was her age. She said all she ever hears is "you look so much like your mother". That made me think of how warped our body image and what we actually see as women.

A woman will be married to a man for 20+ years and that man can probably count on one hand how many times he has seen his wife naked, up right, and in broad daylight. The man has seen her give birth, have the flu and if he is lucky enough--get a couple cocktails in her and do freaky stuff...yet...she will not allow her body to be seen by him, unless under certain circumstances.  It is no wonder men all think we look better on our backs--its all they ever see! Now here is where I crack up...a man however---will parade around completely naked, in the day light--and if you let him--in front of the window that is across the street from the church -_-. They will helicopter, wiggle and strut like we are lucky to have seen such a physique! WHERE IN THE HELL DID THEY GET THAT KIND OF CONFIDENCE??? Do you realize if we had half of that swagger and gumption -- we wouldn't have needed those "feminist rights".  I personally have to look away when it has happened to me...I am a worrier by nature--and when that thing is parading around--all I can think about is "How do they sit down?"..."Don't let the cat see it"..."They really need to make bras for the back-up dancers".  I cant imagine a time where I waltz nude, in the middle of the day, in front of a male and give him that smile that says "Yep...allllllll this is yours, now watch--I'm going to do jumping jacks and laugh while my parts jiggle."

Women need to really start thinking like a man when it comes to this topic...we need to act like we have balls.  There I said it. THAT has to be where the confidence comes from? So from now on my female friends when you are down and out, hate the image in the mirror, or you God forbid arent a Size 0 like in the magazines...get your balls out. Lord knows we have been carrying enough around of them in our purses, we might as well put them to use.

For my male keep doing your thing...we arent hatin' on ya...I wish I could be so entertained by my own body. Yes...yes I guys ARE entertained by OUR bodies.  Geesh....(see ladies, no matter what--no matter the size--shape--color--or whatever your mental hang ups are--your man will ALWAYS think your body is Disneyland ;-)