Monday, January 28, 2008

Visiting Morbidville

My mind lives in the land of Morbid. I have these dark thoughts. Often.

I am only going to tell you a few of my thoughts, lest I frighten you. I know they are scary because every now and then when I attempt to share with the hubs, he gets this look on his face like he is trying to remember the instructions to "How To Properly Buckle A Strait-Jacket" or "Three Easy Steps to Installing Your Spouse in a Looney Bin." Then I shut up.

Like today. I felt a small lump in my armpit. We all know that's where the lymph nodes are, right? There is a cancer called lymphosarcoma. Its terrible. Infiltrates the whole body. Well, by 3:00 today I was convinced that is what I had. I was already planning my trip to Atlantis in the Bahamas (snorkeling, dolphins, sand!) and then after the trip I would let the hubs in on my TRUE reason for our going.

Hubs gets home from work. He is changing clothes. I announce, "I have a painful lump under my arm. Its probably cancer." The look comes over his face. I then strip off my top to adequately show him said lump (yes, he made a few comments about checking my other, more obvious, lumps - the man NEVER takes me seriously!). That's when I remembered the time I went to the doctor - prepared for the Big C because of another small painful lump and found out it was an ingrown hair. I then told him about my plans for Atlantis to which he replied, "You actually planned all this?"

me: "Yes! What do you think about all day?"
Hubs: "Work."
me: "Is it my fault I can multi-task?"

There was the time I went to the doctor convinced I had cancer because my foot was killing me. The doc had hardly turned my foot over when he casually announces, "You have a plantar's wart." Yes, I was relieved it wasn't cancer but I was quite offended that he said I had a wart. I had never had a wart and (apologies now to all of you wart people) but only yucky people - toad huggers - got warts (I have seen the light and know this not to be true - because I have now officially suffered through a wart).

Then there was the time I was convinced I had arthritis. My walking days were numbered. A wheelchair was in my near future.

Doctor: "You have plantar's fasciitis. Stop running, change your shoes, rest."

I give out funeral arrangements to my friend's too. Is that morbid?

"Please play REO Speedwagon's "Time For Me to Fly" but explain to the throngs of people that the entire song isn't appropriate for the funeral."

"Don't let just anyone do my hair if there is an open casket. And, NO blue eyeshadow!"

And, a favorite of my mother's when I was growing up, "Hey mom, if I am ever decapitated you can identify me by the birth mark on my ankle."

Some call it morbid - I call it good planning.

Monday, January 21, 2008

Just Say It

Song lyrics.

I tend to be an innocent when it comes to song lyrics. I go for the superficial and think they simply mean exactly what is there. So, imagine my dismay when years ago, someone told me that ZZ Top was NOT buying the girl a real pearl necklace!

Go to sometime when you are really bored and you can look up all kinds of stuff. I do believe it is all written by guys. For example, the pearl necklace reference. The writer of the definition waxes on how women love this. That it is the ultimate gift from a guy to a girl. Right. Go to the jewelry store and put some real money down instead, cheap bastard!

The latest one to shock my sensitive system is from the ubiquitous Crank That Soulja Boy song. Do you know what a Superman is according to the urban dictionary? I cannot even bring myself to tell you. Go look it up and come back. I'll wait.

What is really disgusting is that this song is being play EVERYWHERE. I have seen pro football players dancing during a game to it. I have seen 7 year old little girls bust a move at a birthday party to this song. The supersoaker the dude is singing about? He is not talking about a plastic toy gun!

And the song Umbrella by Rihanna. Guess what? She is NOT talking about rain gear. Personally, I don't know if I believe this or not, but when she offers for him to stand under her umbrella that is supposed to mean something else - you know, down there.

Now I am hyper-suspicious about all songs. I'm afraid to walk around singing anything out loud. What is Bubbly really?
What about Girlfriend by Avril? What kind of girlfriend??
So, what does Pop, Lock and Drop it really mean?

Do our kids know what these songs mean? I am afraid to even ask mine. I don't want to start a conversation I don't have a strong enough stomach to finish. Full blown paranoia is setting in.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008 my brain

Since the holidays ended (for me around January 7th) I have been really busy with work. I don't get to be at my computer all day and so I am dreadfully behind on my blog reading. And, even though I have a Crackberry it is torture to try and use it to read blogs. Plus, I am trying to cut down on my Crackberrying and driving.

So, I am driving....and getting my car washed the other day.

There was a maroon mini van in front of me. After we drive through the car wash, I parked next to her van in order to use the vacuum. She is wearing a full-length mink to vacuum her car. WTF? It goes without saying that I was woefully underdressed. But, I must admit it was one of the coldest days we ever get in Houston and if your gonna bust out the mink in South Texas, then appropriate mink-wearing venue be damned!

I discovered a sign the other day that was an instant perk me up. I decided that anytime I needed a self-esteem boost, driving by here would do it.

"Plus Size Resale"

Need I say more? Other than, you can always find something to be thankful for!

Tuesday, January 08, 2008

Crow Pie, Crow Salad...

Capture one plump crow

You would think that I would love the taste of crow by now since I have had to eat my words many times. It's never pleasant - the whole chewing and swallowing of one's own
words. It doesn't matter how big one's mouth is - its still a tough swallow.
Let me explain: In Texas, parents can opt to teach their own child to drive. It is a "Parent Taught Driver's Ed" and I have always disagreed with it. These are the same parents who are most likely rude drivers themselves. Nothing like passing on the habit of flipping someone the bird when they cut you off. These are probably the same parents who cannot tell their children "NO," yet, they are being entrusted with my safety and everyone elses on the road.

I have often expressed my disapproval of this type of Driver's Ed over the regular class taught. Loudly. Stridently. Vociferously. Maybe even obnoxiously. I love the true Driver's Ed class. They scare the piss out of the kids by showing them horrific accident scenes. They put them on simulators where they get to experience running over a little girl on a tricycle. Good stuff. You see, I want my boys to take this priviledge seriously.

Bring water to a boil then add crow with a dash of salt

Seems middle son, who has turned 15, is extremely busy with sports and school, making it difficult to fit in the traditional class. We started to realize that Parent Taught Driver's Ed may be our only alternative.

Now it must be said, that this child would be my ONE who will listen to us. He is very conscientious and safety conscious. He is a good boy. If I truly thought he would be an ass behind the wheel then I would not do it.

Boil until soft, then allow to cool before cramming down throat

And, my husband has agreed to be his Parent/Teacher. Together they will do very well. My husband is all about Following The Rules. This is the man who flips on his turn signal to turn into our driveway when no one is on our street! He has received one ticket EVER in his life and it was for doing 45 in a 35 (hardly, a speed demon). Together, I think they will make a competent, safe, well-learned team.
As for me, I am hoping that none of my friend's find out.

Tuesday, January 01, 2008

The Vows that Must Be Broken

Happy 2008! I hope you rang in the New Year with someone you love and look forward to it with hope. Did you make any resolutions? I don't put a lot of stock in resolutions and feel they are empty vows made on Jan. 1st but end up being thrown to the wayside by Jan. 21st.

I think it was last year I vowed to stop cussing so much. Well, shit. That didn't happen. I am happy to report that I curse LESS. Just with more feeling.

Frustratingly enough, my mind automatically goes into resolution mode on December 31st. Maybe it is the perpetual optimist in me. Maybe its the siren call of the evil media "telling" me I must create these promises that I have no intention of keeping. So, I decided to make a few resolutions that I felt completely in my realm of keepable vows.

1. I resolve to always have plenty of toilet paper in my house. If this seems a little strange to you then you must know of my fear that one day I will open the cabinet to find I have run out of toilet paper. I don't know if as a small child something tragic befell me (a camping trip? Leaves??) All I know is I stock up on t.p. like a chipmunk storing nuts for winter.

2. I resolve to tell the people I love how great they are. I have existed in a world where I just thought my family and friends already KNEW I thought they were super. But after an incident recently, it was brought to my attention that they would like verbal confirmation of their specialness in my life. I can do that.

3. I will stop saying out loud that I have amazing hair. I grew up my whole life with horrible hair. Naturally frizzy, bushy, impossible to control hair. I lived with a "Pixie" haircut from 2nd through 5th grade! Then about two years ago, I discovered the miracle of chemically straightening it and have achieved the Shangri-la of hair. But enough, I am sure people are getting tired of it....oh good Lord! Who am I kidding? I have AMAZING hair!!!!

From my house to yours....Happy New Year!