Monday, June 30, 2008

Battle of wills.

Mom--score one point.

Child--lost the fight after screams, cries, 2 gallons of snot, and hitting the brick wall that is the sick mom standing her ground.

Cheese snamich--R.I.Pieces. (but eventually eaten after being torn into minute little parts in protest)

All of this because she wanted Pringles for dinner, and while my first inclination was to give in cause I don't feel good, I decided that today was not the day I wanted to be included in the running for worst parent of the year.

So she eats a small cheese snamich to ease my conscious, and finishes it off knocking back a can of chips like a frat boy demolishes a 6-pack.

Eh...I pick my battles.

Saturday, June 28, 2008


That stands for Minivan Operating Mother. As follows, this is the conversation I had with myself...

"Oh no, Leigh! Say it isn't so! What in the hell happened to you?"

"Well, Leigh, it seems I have succumbed to the man, the 'movement' if you will, I have reluctantly joined the mainstream, sheep-herded, masses of other breeders out there and bought a vehicle for the 'space.'"

"Damn, Leigh, what about your image?"

"Well, Leigh, it seems like I have temporary insanity induced by lots of bells, whistles, buttons, gadgets, and a dump truck. Rest assured, this will not prevent my normal routine of 'Raging against the machine!'"

"All right Leigh, if you say so. I guess I will just take comfort in the fact that this was the best you could afford since a rainbow, flower, and peace sign covered VW Bus wasn't available and you were in a pinch. Oh, and Leigh? If I ever so-help-me catch you with a soccer ball sticker or a silver fish sticker any where near the new van, I will beat you senseless with every seat belt buckle and owners manual at my disposal."

"Rock on!"

Edit: *For you Feisty....hehehe

Quick Post

I have a TON of stuff to tell you folks...things have been happening left and right here...and with the accident and the resulting car shopping, y'all know I have some awesome posts coming your way. I keep notes. You wouldn't believe some of the looks I get when I stop my life mid sentence and mumble about blog fodder and start digging in my purse for a notepad and pen. It scares people. (of course it could also be me arguing with myself...did I put that notebook in my purse this morning? No you silly goof, you didn't and now you are going to have to rip that man's shirt off and use that instead...oh shut up, you are starting to scare the I am not, you are!)

Anyway, I just wanted to get this out here so y'all don't think I am dead. I am organizing notes and believe me, you want me to organize! Otherwise this whole blog would be an ADD mess and nobody would understand any damn thing I was ever talking about....well...maybe Feisty and Moose would, but that is only because I have been training them in the art of "Deciphering Leigh" since 1990. So stay tuned and I promise before the weekend is over I will have more postings for your entertainment...

One more thing...I want to thank The Girl Next Door for her perfectly clear directions on how to change my "comment" link. Oh and Feisty? I know how to do this now and it doesn't involve 20 minutes of random Google searching...I'm just sayin'.

Thanks for hanging with me, folks! More to come!

*For those of you wondering why in the hell I am up at the ass crack of dawn on a Saturday, it is because I had a cheeri-O of a dream about Gregory House aka Hugh Laurie, and I had to get out of bed and take a cold shower. Oh...and he was using the accent....mmmmm.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

What's in a name?

This morning while waiting on the very late school bus, yet again, I was blowing bubbles with my daughter and quizzing her on the things any 4 year old should be well versed in by that age. After running through numbers and colors, I asked her what her name was. She replied with her first name. I congratulated her on a job well done, and then asked again what her first and LAST name were. She again answered correctly. I then asked her what my name was.

She replied, "Mommy."

Then I said, "yes, baby, but what is my real name? My first name?"

"I dunno," she said.

"My first name is Leigh, baby, can you say that?"

"You name is Wee," she replied. I giggled.

I then asked her, "What is my last name? Can you say mommy's first and last name?"

"Wee Needs-A-Doctor!"

Gotta love that miniature smart ass sense of humor. Just what the doctor ordered to fix my funny bone!

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Can of Whoop Ass.

I am fiercely loyal and protective of my friends. Ask any of them. I will defend them to the edge of sanity and back. You mess with them, hurt them, break their heart, or in any way make them suffer, and I will come after you with all that I have in my arsenal. That includes ALL the voices in my head, the dust bunnies under the bed, the elves that live in my closet, and all their clown friends that live on their t-shirts. I will even sick all the stuffed animals and McDonald's toys on you that I have in my house...and that my friend, is a HUGE army. Be afraid.

*on a personal note, all the medications that I am on due to the monster-trucking episode with the dump truck last Monday, have been doing a WONDERFUL job. I am hardly feeling any pain right now!

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Random Ponderisms...Randomisms?

* I got hit by a gazillion ton dump truck yesterday. Now I can say I feel like I've been run over by a truck convincingly. (The rest of these randomisms are collected from various sources or thought up by me in the sometime distant or near past. I'm on drugs right now for the pain. Yay drugs!)

* I used to eat a lot of natural foods until I learned that most people die of natural causes.

* Gardening Rule: When weeding, the best way to make sure you are removing a weed and not a valuable plant to pull on it. If it comes out of the ground easily, it is a valuable plant.

* The easiest way to find something lost around the house is to buy a replacement.

* Never take life seriously. Nobody gets out alive anyway.

* There are two kinds of pedestrians: the quick and the dead.

* Life is sexually transmitted. (technically that makes kids STDs)

* Health is merely the slowest possible rate at which one can die.

* The only difference between a rut and a grave is the depth.

* Some people are like Slinkies. Not really good for anything, but you still can't help but smile when you see one tumble down the stairs.

* Health nuts are going to feel stupid someday, lying in hospitals dying of nothing.

* Have you noticed since everyone has a camcorder these days no one talks about seeing UFOs like they used to?

* Whenever I feel blue, I start breathing again.

* All of us could take a lesson from the weather. It pays no attention to criticism.

* In the 60's, people took acid to make the world weird. Now the world is weird and people take Prozac to make it normal.

* Politics is supposed to be the second oldest profession. I have come to realize that it bears a very close resemblance to the first.

* How is it one careless match can start a forest fire, but it takes a whole box to start a campfire?

* Why is there a light in the fridge and not in the freezer? Oh wait...there is a light in my freezer.

* If Jimmy cracks corn and no one cares, why is there a song about him?

* Why does Goofy stand erect while Pluto remains on all fours? They're both dogs!

* If quizzes are quizzical, what are tests?

* If corn oil is made from corn, and vegetable oil is made from vegetables, then what is baby oil made from?

* Do illiterate people get the full effect of Alphabet Soup?

* Did you ever notice that when you blow in a dog's face, he gets mad at you, but when you take him on a car ride, he sticks his head out the window?

* Does pushing the elevator button more than once make it arrive faster?

* Why doesn't glue stick to the inside of the bottle?

* If love is blind, why is lingerie so popular?

* Did you ever notice: When you put the 2 words "The" and "IRS" together it spells "Theirs?"

* Life is like a shit sandwich, the more bread you have the less shit you have to eat.

* I look at bush and think, boy maybe if I drank more and did more coke and slacked off for like 30 years I would get a cool oval office too.

* He who laughs last thinks slowest.

Monday, June 16, 2008

Warring Roses and Dragging Queens

I have been absent from blogging this past week due to circumstances beyond my....well honestly it was all FCB's fault. That man is an insufferable ass. Days full of bickering, button pushing and nit-picking and of course the weekly jab of telling me to pack up and get out, led me to go out on the town last Thursday to take some me time and enjoy myself. I was preparing to leave, when I was asked what I was going to do about my child. Insert blank stare here.

I recovered from that brief mind-numbing (actually it was blinding hate, but I'm splitting hairs) episode and said that he was home, had no plans, donated the sperm, and was fully capable of "babysitting" his child for a few hours. He looked at me like I just asked him to paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel while simultaneously composing and entire symphony all while doing push-ups with only his penis. (not that he could or anything) He then told me to be home by MIDNIGHT. It was 9pm.

A small debate later about him not being MY dad and having no right to dictate-a-damn at me, I left to go pick up a friend and hit a local bar. I had not been to this bar in years, and once there with all the smoke, drinks, and rampant fairies running around, I took a deep breath and breathed out a deep sigh of relief. I was home. I missed hanging out with loving accepting people that take you as you are. I used to be "fag hag" or drag queen groupie, and actually had a close knit circle of male friends that liked dressing up in glitz and glam to perform as women. I was nicknamed "Momma Transy" because I mothered, loved and protected each and every one of them.

While I didn't see any of my old friends that night, I was at the club with my best friend, and she was doing a great job of listening to me rant about my life while throwing dollar bills at drag queens. I had a couple of drinks, and was able to truly kick back for the first time in a long time. We watched all the shows, laughed, talked and had a great time. We decided to head to breakfast before heading home. We stopped at the Waffle House for a nutritional breakfast of runny eggs and greasy hash browns covered in chili of questionable origins. Yum. I got home at 3:33 on the dot. Took a shower to get all the smoke and germs off me, (yes I washed my ankles) and then passed out on the couch. Ahhh....good times. I definitely am going to have to do that again.

I just leave y'all with a little joke. Some will get it, some won't. It's a southern thing.

What has six tits and three teeth?
The wait staff at your local Waffle House.

Thank you! Thank you! Don't forget to tip your Drag Queen!

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

It's up.

The Home Depot post is up. It is before this morning's post and after the hOlympics post because of when I started it. What can I took me a while to write it all down. Don't eat my face off.

And how was your morning?

I was awoken at the crack of 9am this morning by a phone call from the friendly automated UPS notification system. I was trying to get fully awake to understand what the computer was telling me when the voice on the other line asked me in ENGLISH if I wanted to continue the call in ENGLISH, and that I needed to press 1 now. Nothing gets me more awake or pissy first thing in the morning than an oxymoronic phone call.

So basically this phone notification was to tell me that I was going to be getting two, count 'em, TWO packages today and that someone needed to be home to sign for them. It then went on to tell me that if no one was home then the packages could not be delivered and notification would be left at my door about the hoops I would have to jump through and the random guy named Ahkmed that I would have to suck off down at my local UPS store to actually get my packages out of hock. Yay. That just fucked all my plans for the day. I needed to go get gas for the month before prices got to $15 bucks a gallon, AND I needed to get some pictures printed out for my father's day cards that I am sending to Tennessee. Not that they are going to get there in time at this point.

So I settled down for the morning with my cup or three of coffee, and while I was waiting on "what BROWN could do for you," to show up and make my day, I started catching up on all the blogs that I am supposed to read at least once a week. While I was doing that (and having a great laugh to boot, you people are hilarious) FCB sat his fat ass down next to me on the couch with a bowl of cereal full enough to feed an African village, and said to me and I am quoting here...

"Go make me a couple of PB&J sandwiches for work."

Uh...did I somehow magically get "FCB's bitch" tattooed across my forehead while I was sleeping? I fucking laid into him! I asked him how hard would it be to say please or could you? Would it kill him to be a little nicer to me? All this lead of course to him lamenting how he can never catch a break and here goes the potty mouth and how I am such a child and.......

Bite me MUTHAFUCKER! I am not your personal servant. I am not even my own personal servant. If I could train my 4 year old to go make ME a "snammich" I would.

It just seems to be my morning. I would go back to bed if I hadn't already had 3 cups of coffee and wasn't waiting on the damn UPS guy. All I can hope for to salvage my day is if the delivery guy is cute, hasn't been with a woman in 10 years, is horny as all get out, and is scheduled for a 15 minute break.

Hey...a girl can dream, can't she?

Monday, June 9, 2008

The Power of a Blank Stare.

I went on a little shopping trip the other day looking for a pot to put a plant in. I have such a brown thumb, but somehow, I can't seem to kill philodendrons, so the little suckers are greening up my house all over the place. I decided to look at Target. No luck. So I went across the street to the big orange box, Home Depot. I figure, huge home improvement store, should have what I am looking for in the garden department. Silly me.

So I walk into the store and on my way out to the garden department, I see this handy little grabber tool. It is designed to pick up trash or aluminum cans, but I figure it will work for toys as well. (I have this little problem...I seem to pass out anytime my head goes lower than my ass. Bending over...not such a great idea for me.) I grab one out of the box and continue out to the garden area. For the life of me, no matter how high or low I looked, I couldn't find a pot without a huge hole in the bottom. See the way I keep my little plants alive is by drowning them once a month and forgetting about them the rest of the time. (The masochistic little fuckers must love it cause they haven't gotten up and walked out on me yet.)

It was way too hot to wander outside for long, and I didn't see any employees falling all over themselves to come to my aid (they aren't stupid, they were all inside where it was nice and air conditioned) so I went back into the store to look around and see if there was anything I desperately needed while I was in there. You never know when the mood to own some random tool will strike. all honesty, I was hoping to run into the husband of a friend so I could razz her later about seeing her husband more often than I see her. (That problem has since been remedied, she hung out with me for a whole day this past weekend. Ain't guilt great? Choo Choo!)

So anyway, I was walking through the store and I was thinking, the toilet seat at home is broken, AGAIN. (I have bad luck with buying really cheap toilet seats and then breaking them in odd's a quirk.) I should replace it! I should replace it with something similar to that toilet seat we had in our room at that nice resort that we stayed at on vacation.

My daughter actually sat on the potty almost everyday in an attempt to potty train while we were on vacation. The seat was narrow and she wasn't afraid of falling in, unlike most seats where her little butt just falls right through for a little cold dip. She can't use the little potty training seats anymore, either, cause her butt is now too big. BUTT, I digress.

So I started walking and looking up at all the aisle signs trying to locate the plethora of toilet seats that I am sure they offer. I am not sure if it was the blank stare with a cocked head or the fact that I wasn't paying attention but suddenly an employee popped up in front of me and asked me what I was looking for. (Hey, that's a neat little trick!) Toilet seats I tell him. He points back in the direction that I came from and told me...

"Back that way, third aisle on the left, middle of the aisle."

Okie Dokie...and off I went to find a toilet seat. Walked down to the third aisle on the left, turned down the aisle...and low and toilet seats. None. Hmm. So I stand there a second, and think to myself, let me try out a theory. I cock my head to the side....glaze my eyes into a blank stare....POOF! There is a another employee right in front of me to assist in my seat hunting excursion. (Hey, that's a neat little trick...kinda funny...kinda.) She asks me what I am looking for, and I tell her toilet seats. She tells me I am one aisle off, and to follow her. (Thanks for the spot on directions, first poofy employee.) After she leads me to the VAST selection of seats, she asked me if I needed any help in selecting one. I told her thanks, but no thanks, I was just going to look around and was pretty sure about what I wanted. She smiled and walked away. (Probably back to whatever employee holding area where they keep them all until someone gets a blank stare on their face and needs assistance....then an employee just pops up like some kind of cosmic employee vending machine. Creepy.)

So I am perusing the varied assortment of toilet seats and I notice that some seats are narrower than others. I think to myself, I should probably measure to make sure I get the most narrow so that potty training this summer will be no sweat! (Yeah right, I am convinced she will be in diapers til she is 20 at this rate.) I need a tape measure...and hey, what do ya know! I am in the perfect store to find a tape measure! Let's try out that theory again...cock head, blank stare. Nothing. Maybe I need to be closer to the end of the aisle. So I walked to the end of the aisle. (Remember I am still holding a grabby thingie and I make sure to note what aisle I am on so I can get back to the right aisle. Gee thanks, second poofy employee!)

At the end of the aisle I assumed the position again. Cocked head, blank stare. POOF! Another helpful employee suddenly appears before me! (Hey, that's a neat, at this point it is just downright weirding me out.) He asks me what I am looking for, and I tell him tape measures. He tells me to follow him and we walk down to the aisle where all the tape measures live. He then starts by asking me what kind of tape measure I need and what project am I working on. He was gearing up to go into a nice long-winded sales pitch on tape measures. I could tell because he had a look on his face that was just WAY too excited to be about tape measures, AND the little "long-winded sales pitch" hairs on the back of my neck were standing at attention. I tell the man that I just needed the tape measure to go measure the width of a toilet seat and I had no plans on actually purchasing a tape measure. He backed up and looked at me like I had just asked him if I could tie him up with bungee cords and lick the back of his knees. As he kept backing away from me, (looking like I just asked to eat his face for dinner) I told him that I was great and didn't need any more assistance, and thanked the trail of smoke he left from running away from me as fast as he could.

I grabbed a tape measure and made my way back to the toilet seats. Making sure to keep my head level and my eyes down so as not to summon any more stepford employees from the cosmic vending machine. I selected a seat that was the most narrow AND had a Lifetime Guarantee! (Score!) I then took my toilet seat and my grabby thingy and made my way back to the tape measure colony to set my little borrowed friend free. (Eyes down, head level, eyes down, head level...) I went to the only register that was open to purchase my two items, and there at the checkout was the first normal looking employee I had seen in the whole damn store. I smiled and she started to ring me up. She asked if I was satisfied with my shopping experience and if I found everything I needed. I told her yes, that I was buying the grabby thingy to help pick up toys and the toilet seat to try to help my daughter potty train. She asked me how that was going and I confided in her that it was not going so well and that I had tried almost every potty training trick in the book.

Her face brightened. I should have run. She started telling me about a niece she has that had the same problem and had I tried having a poopy party? HUH? She went on to explain that a poopy party was just like a birthday party. Get a cake and balloons and streamers and presents and have a little party in the bathroom. When the child "Gives Birth" to the poop (I couldn't make this up if I tried, people) I should throw a party and celebrate. Name the poop, flush it, blow out the candles, and open the presents. I had already paid at this I started backing away from this chick slowly...I swear it looked like she was drooling a little and was about to eat my face. As I was running out the door I hear....

"I need a price check on bungee cords at register one, please."

"I swear Officer..."

OK, so let me preface by saying I did not get a ticket, but I could have. Yesterday I went to a dance recital for my niece and after it was over, the family decided to go to my mom's salon to get summer haircuts. I was driving towards the salon when I got caught in a traffic snarl about five miles long(on a Sunday...I hate driving on the westside) and I decided to do a U-turn and take a shortcut I knew.

I was driving through the shortcut behind the Orange Park Mall (There is a mall road that connects two major roadways.) when low and behold, running across the road, through a field, and heading towards the woods, was a woman that looked remarkably like a cheap hooker. She was wearing what looked like a royal purple colored SOCK. As in, it was tiny, it was form fitting, and she was holding onto the top for dear life cause if she let go it was going to slip down and she was going to give all the wild life in the field a good showing of her tatas. She was hauling ass so fast, her sock was riding up and her cheeks were flapping in the wind, her weave was chasing after her trying to catch up along with the overweight security guard that was moving as fast as his spare tire would let him. He had a set of handcuffs in his hands and as he was running they were sparkling in the sunshine like a set of glittering bracelets just begging to adorn Princess Haul-Ass.

As I was watching this, I ran a stop sign. Two people honked at me. No one crashed into me, nor did I hit anyone else. Thank my lucky stars that there wasn't a REAL cop around, cause I would have completely fucked my perfect driving record.

"I swear Officer, I ran that stop sign cause I was distracted by the purple hooker that just ran past." Uh-huh. Sure, Lady.

Saturday, June 7, 2008


Persnickety Ticker Glue! Keeping family from falling to pieces for 32 years!

Oh...and Hugh Grant makes my knickers a good way.

I have another blog in the making about an adventure in Home Depot. Bet y'all are so excited you're about to pee.

My friend just told me that if you freeze HoHo's they taste better. MMMMMMKAY.

That is all I have to write at the moment cause I am neglecting my daughter and I haven't had breakfast and I just can't be that damn funny without nutrition, people! Suck it up and wait for it. I promise to get my funny on later.

"Hey, I need a comeback."

So I am sitting at home the other night, still unsuccessfully attempting to potty train, and one of my best friends calls me and tells me she needs a comeback. Huh? She goes on to explain the situation with one of her friends, and sums it up that her friend (we'll call her Sunny) needed a witty, yet insulting, comeback for an ex that was sending text messages to the Sunny about not being allowed to have sex with anyone else. Still with me? Hope so. It seems Sunny's ex has moved out, moved on, and is with another girl. But Ex still thinks they are in complete control of Sunny's personal life. The text that the Ex sent to Sunny basically said, "you can go out and have a good time with your friends, but don't you dare think about sleeping with anyone."

Sunny called her friend for a witty comeback. Friend called me.

It seems I am the go to girl for all things witty or insulting. My reply?

"You lost the right to dictate what goes on my life when you started HOEing around after some nasty cabbage in someone else's garden."

I know it isn't Pulitzer prize here, people, but did I mention I was mid-potty training session here?

I will fully admit that my "Funny" is largely based on WHO finds WHAT funny at any given time while around me. I adjust my "Funny" for each person as is appropriate. With my closest friends, I am a riot and even crack myself up most of the time. Oldest sister? I get giggly-stupid when around her cause she can bring out the best in me, yet at the same time I have to sensor because there are usually children around. Here? I have found the best of all worlds. PLUS...complete strangers think I am funny, too! (which means my friends aren't just humoring me cause they think I am bat shit crazy and they are afraid I am going to eat their face off if they don't laugh at my jokes)

I love that all of you come here, and that you think I am funny. Thank you. For everyone that does come here, I try to return the favor by visiting your little space in Blogland. Oh, and if you have ads...I click them. I like to share the love and the odd 67 cents that way. For those of you that are lurking but not commenting? I SEEEEEE YOOOOOOOOOOOOOU! Post something dammit. Even if it is just a hi or a you suck or a word verification. Trust me, it will make me feel complete. (hahahehehahahehe) And finally...

Get your comeback here! Cheap comebacks right here! Got a ex that needs a cut down? Got a boss that needs an attitude adjustment? Got a friend that needs to e put in their place? I got your comeback right here! Shipping and handling charges are extra. ;o)

Thursday, June 5, 2008

Two Minutes

I rolled over this morning at 7am and looked at my alarm clock. Too early. I had set the alarm for 7:15am. Woohoo! "Fifteen more minutes of sleep," I said to myself, and proceeded to jump on that opportunity like a kangaroo in heat...

I was then SO rudely awoken by FCB at 7:13am. I looked at the alarm...mumbled that I had two more minutes and that he needed to bugger off.

"Oh and on your way to buggering off, wake up the child, would ya?"

He walked over to where she was sleeping (On the floor, the kid never sleeps in the same spot night after night. She is like a dog that can't find the right spot.) and told her it was time to get up and go to school. Last day and all.(She only goes for 3 hours and then has two weeks off before summer school starts.)

He nudged her, she pulled the covers over her head and said, "Two minutes!"

(I laughed for a good 20 minutes. That kid never fails to absolutely crack me up! Who ever said that you couldn't inherit a sense of humor must have just had bad genes.)

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

In Mourning

Sadly, today I lost someone near and dear to me. Let us all bow our heads in mourning for my friend Bob.

He was a great friend. He was loyal and faithful and always willing to please. He was there for me anytime I needed him. I knew him well, and could honestly say he was the first one I would turn to in my most desperate hour. I knew him a little over 5 years and can say that he could, at times, be the best part of my week to the highlight of my day. He will be gravely missed.

He was preceded in death by his cousin Bob aka "Motocross Bob."

No services will be held as his remains have already been interred. In lieu of flowers, please donate to his favorite charity by clicking on a Google ad from his friend, Persnickety Ticker's, blog page.

Family photos of both Bob and "Motocross Bob" are posted below.


Motocross Bob

Monday, June 2, 2008

It's Monday!

It's a brand new day, and in the light of a brand new day, things are looking up. Or at least I am looking up. For more hail that is. My car now being even more dimpled than my ass...I have a new sales pitch for when I try to unload it on someone.

For Sale: 1995 Toyota Camry. Runs Great! Has small leaking issues with the oil and the power steering fluid, but now it's textured for better absorbency!

I can see the masses jumping on that one...

I got my depressed ass kicked last night like I needed from one of my best friends, and apparently made another feel guilty and cry. Sorry guys. I was just posting what was going on in my head and I probably shouldn't have. I should have just finished all the ice cream in my freezer and watched a funnier movie and kept my fingers tightly laced under my dimpled ass.

On a positive note, my daughter is starting to take my discipline tactics seriously. I have only gotten on to her like five times today, and she was a comparative angel in the grocery store. (I didn't sing to her, therefore wasn't thrown out of the store...but that is another blog, altogether.) She behaved for her therapists, even. (That is an accomplishment for her!)

She did not, however, go to school today. I woke up at 7am to shower and get ready before I got her up to get ready. I guess I was singing too loud in the shower cause she woke up and wandered into my office. She then started whining, then crying, then chanting in tongues. Last night after she went to bed, her dad assembled a set of storage drawers and a shelf in my office. (That was nice of him since I bought it over a week ago and it has been sitting in front of the front door for a week.) Punk was SO UPSET that her environment was altered, that she had a COMPLETE AND TOTAL MELTDOWN. Then she decided to make it go away. This little four and a half year old 50lb child grabbed the drawer/shelf unit and tipped it over. Thank the lucky stars she was standing behind it and not in front of it or we would have had a serious problem on our hands. She then rounded out this nice little meltdown by grabbing her backpack and lunch bag and demanding that I take her to school. Naked.

I tried getting her to put on a shirt or a dress but she was having no part of that. She wanted to go to school attired only in her pull-up. Since enough time had passed that we were now very late for school, we opted for a fun day of at home education(discipline). She's fine now...acting like a completely obedient, loving and normal child. Sybil was more stable than my daughter. This is all my mom's fault. She cursed me when I was young by telling me she hoped I had a daughter that was JUST LIKE ME. (Evil wench.)

Sunday, June 1, 2008

Steel Magnolias

I am sitting here today watching one of my all time favorite movies and listening to my daughter cry, (she is being punished for not taking care of her toys by being sent to her room that is full of more toys) and making dinner. Dinner tonight is going to be some sort of chicken, mushroom, pasta and my friend Feisty says...I can make anything that comes out of a jar taste like homemade with a little tweaking. I'm good at tweaking.

Intermission: I had to stop writing this so that I could unplug my laptop. It started storming. Actually, it started lightening...then thundering. Then it rained. Then it poured. Then the old man snored. AND THEN IT HAILED. That's right, folks, hail. It was hotter than a bitch, today. So in Florida that means afternoon storms. Not that unusual. But hail? That rarely happens. Oh boy did it hail long and hard. My car now looks like my ass in a thong. Nothing but dimples as far as the eye can see.

Now back to your regularly scheduled blog.

I had a dream last night about a couple of friends I haven't seen in years. Actually, these two friends were never fond of each other. But at one time, (not the same time) each girl was my best friend. For those of you who know me personally, here are a couple of names that are a blast from the past. Gaydrielle T. and Denise A. We were in a car going somewhere, not sure where, and they had picked me up from a hospital. I was chewing a tennis ball size chunk of gum (don't ask me how) and the gum was neon green. We ended up in one of my old neighborhoods, at a storage place with lots of orange doors, where we all proceeded to get out of the car and play stick ball. Wacky, huh? Feel free to analyze away. I am sure all this means that I want to run away and join a wild tribe of antelope or tea bag Hugh Grant or something.

Anyway, sorry about the randomness of this post so far, but I do have a point so suck it up and stick with me a little longer....While I was watching the movie, I was thinking about my friends. After that dream, one phone call, one IM, a brief yet unreplied to email, and another 2am email that I still haven't replied to cause I don't want to get hurt, I realized that I haven't seen any of my friends in the span of a few weeks to almost a year respectively. I miss my peeps.

I know that sounded all sad and desperate, but let me explain...

One of my friends lives in Tennessee. I try to get up to see her at least once a year, if she can't make it down here, but I don't know if that is going to be a possibility this year with gas all out of control like it is. She told me last night through an IM that she had been reading my blog and that I don't sound like myself. We couldn't nail down whether that was a good or bad thing. To her, I am just different on here. Well it got me to thinking that since we used to be really close, and aren't really that much anymore, does she still really know me? And if she doesn't really know me anymore, does that mean we are still best friends?

Which brings me to one of my other best friends. I try to talk to her on the phone at least once a week, and when she has the time (I always have the time...I am a bum that way) we can talk for over an hour. We catch up, we laugh, we promise to get together sometime when our (her) busy schedules permit. Since we haven't seen each other in months, and we don't know when we are going to be able to see each other again, and it seems life has done its part to separate us, does that mean we are still best friends?

And yet another best friend...I try to call, email and visit whenever I get the chance...and lately because she has become so busy with her life taking a different direction, I hardly get to see or talk to her either. The last best friend, I am wary to talk to. He is going through some serious stuff right now with his girlfriend having cancer and all, and late at night, when he gets drunk, he emails me things I have always wanted to hear from him, yet know that in the sobering daylight, he might not mean. I don't want to hurt.

I am just sitting here having my own personal pity party, eating comfort food, and watching a movie that never fails to make me cry, and bemoaning the fact that I miss my friends. I'll be OK in a minute. I'm just lonely. Everyone gets lonely. Sure would be nice to be watching it with someone, though. Sorry about the blog not being as funny as usual today, but sarcastic humor and smart assed comments are my defense mechanisms and I just can't seem to muster up much today. I just needed an outlet...and as we all know...blogging is both an outlet and extremely addictive. So I'll just leave on that note with this little bit of whacked out, cracked out, wisdom sung in the voice of Donkey from Shrek....

"Cause I'm all alone...there's no one here beside me. My problems have all gone, there's no one to deride me, but ya got to have frie-eh-eh-ends...."