Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Ever wonder where the economy went? Try looking in your recycle bin
A friend on facebook recently told everyone to take their name off as many catalog mail lists as they can- to save the trees...
Myth- by not printing a catalog you save a tree... false. This is down right stupid and it drives me nuts. Listen, I am pro-environment, I am but this is just bullshit. Actually, there are logging laws. You cannot import trees/pulp into the US without documentation and paper trails. In fact, there are now multiple organizations that do just that- research the hell out of where the trees come from. Mills own huge forests that they log and turn into pulp. They then re-grow these forests. So, actually there is no tree saved. People in America aren't out tearing out rain forests so you can get your Pottery Barn catalog. And, recycled paper sometimes isn't as healthy for the environment (think chemicals) as it is to grow a tree and cut it down and replace it with another tree. I know, we want to be sentimental about the trees but here is what we are NOT sentimental about- the jobs. Do you know how many people are, or should I say were, employed in the paper, print, and distribution industries? Thousands have lost jobs in the last year... that is right ONE year. Think about your local mailman who is about to lose his job or have his pension cut. Think about all the mills that have gone out of business, printers laying off workers and it trickles down to catalog companies hiring less people to answer calls, and less designers needed to lay out pages, and trucking companies not hauling loads which goes to people not having jobs at local malls. These people who you say are not necessary are incredibly valuable to us, they are part of our economy PEOPLE. These are the people buying houses, cars, groceries, eating at restaurants, shopping, IN YOUR TOWN. But, we DO have nice shiny smart phones and apple products... made OVERSEAS. It's not about a carbon footprint. Do you know most printing companies capture their exhaust and use them to supplement heat their plants? So, it is not like there are these huge puffs of smoke going out into the atmosphere... it's just not so.
Itunes.. ever talk to a song writer about how he/she gets paid? Ask them how fast they get a check from itunes. Ask them if they think the check is accurate? Oh, yeah, let's not forget that we have done away with all the record stores, no body wants them right. What about the people who sold them or the companies that made them, made the packaging, etc. Sure, an ipod is convenient and it is conveniently made in... google it it rhymes with SHINE-Ah. I am not hating on the Chinese but we have to realize every decision we make effects our own pockets or gives to someone else's. Why is it we are in such a hurry to ship jobs out when we desperately need them at home?
And then there were books... don't even get me started. I appreciate an e-reader, I really do. But I love the smell of a book. So there are no more book stores, well there are the mega brand stores that mostly sell more $5 coffees than books now, and certainly no locally owned book stores. Again, no one printing the books, shipping the books, etc. I feel so green- I saved a tree, we didn't use the gas to ship it! Nope, we gave that away again to another country and laid off thousands of workers. Think there is no carbon footprint in shipping from China to US? Think there aren't serious labor issues in China? THINK AGAIN- and keep supporting that but you save a damn tree, make that a theoretical tree. WE have to protect OUR planet but WE have to be smart. I am so sick of people jumping on band wagons and not thinking about any consequence.
Yes, technology is a good thing. No, it is not the devil, but let's think about it. We are a nation that makes NOTHING. I think this is our problem. Our economy flew out the window... no ma'am it did not. We gave it away. We couldn't wait to sell it off. So now what do you do? Make an app for a $1? Like for instance, does ANYBODY write a letter anymore? Is the art of the love letter now an email or a sext? And, I really freaking hate text messages. We don't talk anymore, we prefer to text.
It just really bothers me that so many people are unemployed and we make nothing as a country. Unlike paper, you cannot recycle our economy. I am all about being green but I think we need to think about if we ARE actually being green or if we are being e-friendly. The two are confused. Someone tell me how you recycle an ipod? An old laptop? Sure you can but there are environmental risk factors there, too. And how many old devices do you have? We need to figure out how to do that better than add plastic and LED screens to dump piles- because that stuff is more toxic than OLD PAPER ever was!!
To conclude, because you are sick of my rant and hopefully getting the point... I think the only way we are going to get the economy fixed is to make something (a product) and employ people. So, please put down your iphone and think about that for a minute. That's all I ask...
Monday, November 22, 2010
And speaking of the turkey- please do not get me wrong- I have never been one to pass up a dessert table. This is the best damn holiday. No gift stress, no forgiveness, no telling somebody you may or may not love them as much as you did once before. This is all about eatin' and eatin' good. I love a holiday where you know it's time to stop because you feel sick or you might actually blow out your spanx. Eat til you cant' take another casserole bight honey child.
More importantly... a little secret to help you with the guilt and the glutony... I have never been scared of a lipo doctor- they do really have the magic wand. So, I say honey child, you best get you some seconds just make sure you got a part time job or some something-something left over in that Christmas Cash account you got secret stowed down at the credit union. Because if you pass up a second plate... the terrorists have won.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Mama is so sorry. I feel, once again, like I left you locked in the car with the windows cracked at Wal-marts while I was buying my econo-mega pack of Marlboros. Truth is, I've been busier than a one legged man in a butt kickin contest. I've been working hard for the money like Donna Summer. But that is no excuse. Things, they are a changing in mommas life- whether she likes it or not. I will keep you informed but for now know this:
I never meant to leave you.
I never felt the need for travel, but travel had the need for me.
The loney road is a body guard if you really want it to be.
In the meantime find some happiness wherever you are. Maybe it's the smell of fall or the color of the leafs. For me, it's the bottom of this damn bag of halloween candy I hid from them ingrates neighbor kids. Will be in touch, and if you need me, you know where to find me.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
- What did that comment, really, mean?
- Did she say that to me or for me?
- Am I going to get laid off?
- Will he call?
It is time to stop wondering and dreaming and start doing. I am making a pact to shut up and put up. The only things I am going to start asking my self are:
- Will this stain come out?
- Is this going to leave a permanent mark?
- Are there any cameras?
- Will this clear my checking account?
That is it. It is time to start living and stop dreaming. I hope that this inspires you the way I feel inspired. Of course, I am writing you on pain medication because I broke my damn foot. So, I am not going to start to tango after this post, but in my head I might be tango-ing right now.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
But I thought I would die this very morning. I decided I should go downstairs to the lobby and work out. Only all the machines were taken at 630am by the really fit people. I am not so fit, just guilted by the pasta and decadent chocolate cake i ate last night. So, I give up and did some stretches. I discovered, am also not limber and feared I had split my pants.
So, I gave up and went to the pantry to check out the breakfast selections. I settled on a diet coke and a pack of Big Red for breakfast. When I got back upstairs to room 1501- I put my key in the door.... nothing. Well, damn it I have to go all the way back downstairs? No ma'am. Try it again, and again and cuss a little. That always helps.
Suddenly, a rather irritated lady opens the door wearing a teeshirt that is down past her thighs. "Can I help you?" she looks at me with a stern look as though she might just beat the shit out of me right there in the hotel lobby. I realize I only have diet coke bottle to protect myself and say, " oh, well good morning. I guess this is your wake up call. Sorry, 3 hotel rooms in 3 days, I must be lost. Have a blessed day.." and the door slams.
Yes, I said have a blessed day? WTF? I don't bless people. Am not pope. Am non pope-ish. Am not Catholic. Turns out I am in room 220. Room 1501 was the night before. whoops
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
But, I will tell you what I have brought back a few pearls from all my travels...
1) People are at their absolute worst in the airports
2) It's a moral sin and character flaw to cut line while exiting a plane. Wait your damn turn, I am stuck in the damn toy poodle size seat
3) Never, ever, recline your seat in coach unless that damn flight is longer than 2 hours it's just rude
4) Rental cars are probably less clean than public toilets
5) Approach a self flushing toilet with caution
6) Flight attendants don't like to be called air mattress even in a joking manner
7) Chain restaurants are comforting, like the way they give you gas and indigestion all night but are familiar
8) Chinese buffet is never a good idea in a strip mall near the airport
9) Tip the house keeper or she might use your toothbrush in the toilet bowl
10) Does it break your jaw to say please and thank you to people?
And now a bonus: Why do so many people build houses that look like olive gardens?
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
So, I don't get why the hell they put so damn many mirrors in the YWCA. I know you need to watch yourself curl. But I do not, repeat NOT, need to watch myself run. It's a horrible testament to gravity to watch my face as I run. I have jowls like HOOCH. and, we have previously established I may be inclined to sing while I run. I may even do a semi- dance and work in an assslap when listening to a certain Ke$ha track. Thank you for getting me through the third mile, you skanky tween.
So, I realize my willpower is low and my strength is all but gone. I think I maybe need new shoes? Am on the treadmill cresting mile 3 when I think, yes I need roller skates. That would make this enjoyable, I could dart home like a Prius with a stuck gas pedal.
Then I nearly tripped on my own boob and had to concentrate again.
My only goal in life is not to be jealous of those people- the folks whose ass moves the same direction their legs do when they walk. Is that so inconquerable?
Best of luck kiddies, talk soon
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Sunday, June 27, 2010
So, here I am trying to find something for this wedding. I like to call weddings: tramp'n'ho retirement parties. When you decide to trade in your diaphram for a big rock, time to hang up those disco shoes and start hitting the vino. But back to the case at hand.
Honey, I decided to go shoppin in my closet. Have you ever done this? I found that I had so many things I had forgotten. Sadly, this new store found in my own house was wonderful but, baby, they just didn't have much left in my size. And that bitch who works there was hateful. But, at the end of the day I was happy I saved my chubby ass from spending money on fat clothes. Because let's be honest, bigger clothes are the gateway to elastic pants and lonely nights.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Go see your daddy, or the man your mama told you was to be your daddy. Take him to a chain restaurant and let him order dessert. Get crazy, buy him a card or a clip-on neck tie.
I will spend my day watching Maury Povich break the news to all the new and unfortunate daddies. Congratulations- it is very most likely yours!
I am reminded of a few of my own complicated conversations about who may-or-may not be responsible for my delicate condition. But, childrun, you gotta remember it was the 1970s there was no way to be sure. Disco techs tend to lead to peeing on a stick and praying to Jesus.
But I digress....Because today is the day that makes all those awkward paternity tests worth it.
Friday, June 18, 2010
So, me and Father Time go walking into the DMV to get the title for him and get him on his way. Let me back track and tell you that this was the 2nd place we went. The country folks working at the County Clerk's office told me to "go on down there to the state to get that man a title and his driver's tag." Ok, I do what the middle management says to do.
So we stand in line and wait and wait. THen we get a number and wait, and wait. Then they tell me, "Sorry we can't do this. If the car is going over state lines he needs to get a temporary tag there." I scratch my wig and ask, " Can he drive on my tag?" The man whose name tag read BUBA,yes spelt wrong and all... Buba says, "Naw he can't. He needs to get one from Michigan." Ok, so this goes back and forth because Father Time lives in Michigan and bought my Buick here in Tennessee. But, he can't take my tag, and TN won't give him a temp tag- so how the hell is he supposed to get it back the Michigan?
Buba: Ma'am you need to have him get the title and get that tag.
Me: SO he can't drive it until then?
Me: How is he supposed to get it back to Michigan
Buba: Ma'am you've asked me this already.
Me: I simply don't understand.
Buba: It ain't my problem
I told the less than helpful folks at the state clerk's office:
"Sir, Mr. Bubba. I understand you think you are helping me.I UNDERSTAND you don't want to help me anymore. I understand you don't want to be professional or courteous. But PLEASE understand that I don't want to be here either. Now I understand you probably have a button where you can push for security to come in 30 seconds, but let me assure you Mr. Bubba, that this will be the longest 30 seconds of your life if you don't start being respectful to me. Now, kindly ring your manager and tell him there is a Customer here who would request his or her assistance. Because you see, it AIN'T my problem isn't an answer."
I left with no drive out tag but I did get a small applause from the folks in line.
Monday, June 14, 2010
2) IT IS RUDE TO RECLINE YOUR SEAT IN COACH
3) Eat your food before you board. Others do not want to smell it. Maybe I am not in the mood for your nachos smell for 3 hours? Maybe I am not feeling italian today. Maybe I don't want to smell your cinna-bun? Who am I kidding. It is a good thing that heiffer wasn't sitting next to me or I'd have snatched that Cinna-bun up for my own self.
4) Babies on a plane: do not hate the babies. They don't know any better. They think their head may actually explode from the pressure. Hate the parents. If you took your 1 year old to the beach you are an unfit mother - "plane and simple." Babies don't need to fly. You can skip Myrtle Beach this year. Instead, tan your tramp stamp at your local trailerpark swimming hole.
4.5) Babies continued, I will play peek-aboo with the kid if I want to. But, do not think it gets you off the hook. You hear that jeans shorts lady?
5) Jean Shorts are not appropriate for plane, or forever.
5.5) People used to dress for a plane. I know the 1950s were my glory years but you are still in public. this isn't a sleepover with you and 120 of your college friends. Wear clothes not your damn pajamas.
6) Leave the arm rest where it is. If you are too fat to sit in the seat, I am sorry. But you don't get to lay on top of me. Drive to your destination, or better yet walk.
7) Over heard bin space is limited: please do not bring a taped up bag full of "Precious MOments" dolls you got at the local shit store. I want to throw my Jessica Simpson Magic Carpet Ride VIP rolling luggage up there. I don't care if your purchase is too big and might get damaged. Fed Ex makes a living off of shipping that crap for people just like you. This is an airplane meant for people and their bags not your early bird christmas shopping in Pigeon Forge.
8) If I am sleeping on the plane, please do not wake me to ask if I want a soda pop. If I want a Pepsi I will be awake. Some bonehead poked me and asked if I wanted a coke. Well, I did want it- I wanted to throw it on him for being such a dumbass.
9) Keep your shoes on. If you take your shoes of on the plane we will all smell your feet. Worse yet, I will see your feet inches from me. I am likely to scream, point or laugh at you. Keep your damn shoes on.
10) i say it again: IT IS RUDE TO RECLINE YOUR SEAT IN COACH. Nothing better than a balding crown 3 inches from my face. I wanted to pull out my SHARPIE and leave him a note: baldy is inconsiderate of other's personal space. Hope you enjoyed your nap
Bonus: Electronic devices are approved for use during flight- BUT I don't really want to hear the Barney Theme song for 2.5 hours. Get some damn headphones or leave it at home.
thank you for flying bitchy air
Saturday, June 5, 2010
There is nothing like being judged while waiting on your change. Then I drive to the second window to pick up the order and the guy looks at me like he feels sorry for me. I think he and that hateful judgey lady were talking about me over the radio earphone things they wear. Maybe she punched it in the order? That's okay I will take your pity and some extra ketchup.
Friday, June 4, 2010
1)Sad: Tonight I cried. I admit it and I didn't expect it. Have you ever heard someone passed and you didn't even know that person, but you cried for her? Tonight I was sad... because you have to respect those that came before you. Someone passed away today who wasn't even a personal friend, but a friend indeed. Tonight a hero has passed- and I pray for her soul to be safe and true. It saddens me when anyone dies but my heart breaks a little tonight in respect.
2) Mad: I lost something. It might be trivial but sometimes the one that got away is gone for sure. I learned that tonight. I had held out hope and kept a torch burning but it only burned down my house. So, tonight I am mad for the love I lost - and the love I never found.
3) Finally: Tonight I learned a lot about disappointment. Disappointment is a double-edged sword. See, it hurts a lot when someone lets you down but it hurts more when you can't forgive them. I surprised myself writing that one down.
So, tonight I write you with a heavy heart. But, I hope, and I pray for that matter, that you realize it is these tough times, the sad times that make the happy times much brighter. And I hope that you get mad and sad and disappointed. Then I hope you laugh your ass off and drink too many beers and embarrass yourself because that, my darlings, is life.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
You might say, "mama you have done gone and gave up." I would say, " honey child, yes, yes I did. I gave it up and then I said this ain't worth all this work so I give up." Love gave up on me and I gave up on it- much like finding my waist line. I am of the humble opinion love is for the young and delusional. I feel the same way about Indian food, honey I can't stomach that after I turned 30. I have enough complicated relationships in my life- if I wanted to deal with some bull shit I would just call out the nursin home and ask to speak to my momma and 'em. I have much to say about love and how the various stage of love are much like a death- eventually you move on. But for today's lesson, chuldrun, we will talk about bad first dates. Let me run three of my very worst down for you- in order of duration:
1) 0:22 seconds I agreed foolishly to a blind date. I had talked with this fool about going to dinner, I don't know where Applebees or Olive Garden some place classy where I could order a mud slide to calm my nerves. When he changes plan and says, let's meet for a drink after work. Hmm... so I agree to pick him up at his work place because it was snowing and we would drive to a bar. Now, chuldrun, I could have been killed, hacked to death and murdered in my own trunk but I went for it all the same. I was young, fancy free and 42. I pulled up in my big Oldsmobile, he hopped in the car. We got to the end of the parking lot and he say, " hey, take me back. I need to go to work," I was shocked. I looked at him and realized he had a phone in his ear. Oh really? I hadn't heard it ring. He say he need to go back to the office, so I just threw that Oldsmobile in reverse and let him walk up the hill.
Why did this happen? Who knows. Maybe I had my saggy side boob showing, or spinach in my teeth. Maybe he mistook the smell of the Oldsmobile for my own body odor? I will never know and it began to pave the road of not givin' a shit anymore.
2) 22 minutes This time I met a gentleman caller for an adult beverage at a bar. I was nervous so I banged down my first Tom Collins. He goes on to tell me that he is a twin. "A twin? There's two of you?" This one was pretty but dry as a leaf in fall, honey. He was so boring. He said, "I have a twin sister." I replied, " Are ya'll identical?" He said, "no, she is a girl." I continued to imply that they were identical by asking, "so are ya'll identical?" He followed with, "you don't understand, identical isn't possible if one is male and one is female. It's called fraternal." Well, I was having a good belly laugh at good looking's misunderstanding that I was joking. This is part of the reason I am single- because I have a certain gift at being rude and calling it flirting. I am also single because I like my space. (Side note: I keep a suitcase at the foot of my bed incase I have a caller who thinks he is going to spend the night. I always have a fictitious flight early the next morning.) So then pretty boy goes on to tell me he is in law school, like I should be impressed. "It's awfully late for you to be in school. Have they held you back?" Again, he didn't laugh, so I continued, " I mean, I don't like lawyers. Especially that D.A. when he tried to go after me for statutory rape and murder. I mean, really, like I was going to admit that shit." I don't recall what happened after that thanks to my Mr. Tom Collins, but pretty boy lawyer asked for the check and left.
I got my revenge, however because one night I happened to be seated next to him at a bar. When my bill came, I pushed it over to him and said loudly to the bartender, this young lawyer man can buy my drinks. He owes me some.
3) A grande finale 1hour 45 minutes This date was the worst of all. We made it through dinner, and drinks and some dancing. When suddenly I couldn't find my date. Only to find he had left- with someone else, an ex of his. Well, it was a nice hour and a half, I spent 15 minutes trying to locate him through a haze of Purple Hooter Shooters. What can I say? It was the 70's.
Best luck with the humping, I mean dating. If I were you I would invest in a nice vibrator but be careful not to chip your teeth if you get out of control.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Friday, May 14, 2010
Then I get on the facebook and the twitter. Here is the thing about twitter. You have to say shit with an "@yourmama" Well I don't give a Fu@k about hearing these short little whines and rants on twitter. I don't care what Ashton Kutcher had for lunch or what Miley Cyrus thinks about foreign politics.
So, I get on face book. But I don't like this either. Aside from feeling like some sort of pedi-file, I just don't like people getting on my face. And now you gotta be a fan of every little damn thing. I get it- if you want to send me a message or you want to catch up with an old classmate or spy on your ex-husband. But I don't need to know what imaginary farm animal you are recruiting or why you need it? That is just weird. I don't want to join your mafia, I am packin in my purse so don't sneak up on me. I don't want to be a fan of any politician or a store. Can you imagine? Let me be a fan of Dollar General, PONTIAC, DOVE SOAP, and asssorted boxed wines.
Now businesses have pages? I want to be a fan of a strip club: the KITTY CAT CLUB in Cleveland? Yes, then I can be a fan of the FREE CLINIC? It's gone too far. See this is what happens. You get a good thing and you go too far and it's ruined. It's just like what happened to jump suits in the 1980s. You have a perfectly useful and acceptable clothing option but people want to make it sporty and put a damn stripe on it- now you have a track suit. Or, you want to make it formal and put puff paint, mirrors and blingy shit on it. We just take things too far and they are worthless, just ruined.
There, you're welcome.
Friday, April 30, 2010
People ask me, what makes you a successful single mother? Well, these children got fed and got out in the world. They are not currently incarcerated and I am particularly proud of that. I am even more proud when they ain't late on the rent and asking me for money for the damn light bills.
I tell you what chuldren, being a momma ain't no easy job. I look at my sister and she is raising two little babies and I think good Lord I can't do that. These babies are sweet as sugar most of the time but sometime they little children when they have a wii in their hands. I guess most kids are though. I am so thankful mine are grown, because I don't have enough nerve pills left.
What is the hardest part about being a mama? Well I would say letting go. These lil' bastards of mine held on to my uterous like it was a basketball goal. I reckon it's hard for all of us to realize our kids are grown up little people and one day they will leave us. They are little minds and will go out and make a way for themself in the world. Sometimes you don't keep a great relationship with your kids or your mama for that matter. I, myself, always thought I owned them kids but then they got out on they own.
So, I hope for Mother's Day you can mend fences if you got mad, or whatever and bring your mama a gift box set of WHITE DIAMONDS by that lady Elizabeth Taylor. Remember to tape the receipt to the bottom so your mama can return it to Wal-Mart but in the meantime she will act like it's her favorite thing next to the snuggy you gave her for Christmas.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Eating out AIDS, Giving AIDS Hell
EATING for AIDS: please hold your pickle
Maybe a sticker: My pants got tight for AIDS?
"Oh damn this AIDS food is good?"
Yes, I am tacky and I would never make fun of any person but it's fun to make fun of words isn't it? And of course, the halibut was asking for it.
Did I go too far?
Sunday, April 18, 2010
What I cannot stand is when country music talks about food. I hate that song chicken fried. I know, some of you like it. God knows i love me some fried chicken, too but not in a song. Country music should be about love, breaking up and drinking, not fried food.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
I am full of regrets today. I feel I have neglected you letting so much time go on by. I am the worst mother, it's like I left you in the car with the windows up in the heat of the summer while I was in a bar, or worse yet Wal-mart. Please forgive me and know that you- yes YOU- are my favorite child. Don't tell the others they'll just get mad.
So, today, I feel I can best express my feelings and catch you up-to-date with a mismash of er'ythang that's been goin' on. Here goes: (and please try to keep up)
You can't make this shit up:
So Mama decided it was time to be responsible. I felt that I should save the earth and hug a tree (ironically I have pictures of that from college but I was drunk at the time). So, I set out on a mission to buy a Prius. Well, honeys, wouldn't you know I had a nice senior citizen sales lady person named Brenda. She was a hoot and a hot mess, albeit she needs to do better with the sun protection. Miss Brenda, who holds a special place in my heart, is starting to look a little like a basketball from too much time on the lake. I digress... me and leatherlady Brenda took the new 2010 Prius out for drive. Now, understand Mama is a Lexus-drivin' Toyota supporter and I thought it was my time to get green. Until... the damn car stalled out on us. Babies, I was pushing the pedal and then mashin on the gas and Miss Brenda was yelling at me to go faster because we were on the freeway and I tell you- hand to god and on my grandmother's jewelry that thing turned off. We coasted off the freeway and into a parking lot safely. Then Miss Brenda got all flustered and her manager came and picked us up (in a pickup truck no less). What bugged me the most was that they didn't say sorry. They were mad at the car. I was like, hey, I'm not just here for the ride riiight? Anyways, needless to say I won't be getting a Prius and I worry these fine folks at Toyota are having big problems. I think I will do my part by planting trees at the condo complexes downtown.
Why, God, Why?
Mama has been cooking at home a lot. I'm not a great cook but I do know how to throw some green beans in a pan and steam them. So, as a result of my lack of eating dinner in a bag and ordering by numbers, I went to the Doc and found out I had lost 6 lbs.... well not to worry childrun I found them! I had left them at the bottom of a bag of chick-filet.
Never trust a man named Will
The word will means: determined or sure to... well my will in mention was determined to give me a headache this very morning...
So my favorite bartender friend, Will, says to me last night: You've had tequilla, and whiskey. You should have a vodka drink then you can't blame it on any of them. Just have em all. What the hell kind of fool says something like that to an old lady? Even worse is the old lady that believes him. I woke up this morning feelin' like I'd been drinking from the toilet bowl, again. It's a terrible feeling that can only best be remedied by an egg mcmuffin. Now, you say an egg mcmuffin is healthy right? It's one of the best choices at the golden Arches home of all things triglyceride but it's my Jewish grandmother's voice that rings in my ears that I need to take advantage of the deal here. It's a greater value to get the meal- I mean the price of the meal is only a $1 more and you get a tall diet coke, and they are sneaky about throwing that little piece of heaven hashbrown in there, too. The truth is childrun, nothing at McDonalds is healthy and it's best to drive on by it. But, if you see Mamas big white lexus in there you better get outta her way because she is in need of some mcMedicine.
Last night I was on somebody's fancy computer phone and found myself playing a game of online scrabble. Yes, children word games. Do you know what is fun about spelling games? Nope, me neither. But I was playing this game and letting it have it. I am worried the next game we will play will be something like : Square Root Fun, or Find the HiddenTax Law? And it occurred to me, that we were all playing this game on a phone sending it to somebody else's phone and nobody was talking. But we were in a ten foot perimeter of each other. Does this bug the hell out of you? I remember when we used to play board games. Now, we have 700 friends on facebook but we are home alone at night with our computers. It just puzzles the hell out of me- all the isolated connectivity in the world.
So, yes, childrun I know that this is not nearly enough information for you and my apology is stale at best but I will make it up to you. In the meantime, I need to take a midol and lay down flat. I can't sleep past 630am anymore even on the weekends and I need to rest my eyes for a minute.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
We watch the little children run around and look for eggs and laugh when it's our nephew that slams one of the other kids to the ground in the hunt for the Golden Egg. Maybe one day he'll grow up to be a banker. We pray we don't step in any sink holes or snake dens while walking around the grass helping him cheat to find those eggs, I mean help direct his little soul.
Our whole family gathers to partake in such wonderful cuisines as potato salad, german potato salad, potato casserole, sweet potato salad, lima beans with bacon and my personal favorite, fried chicken and deviled eggs. We pile our paper plates high and wash it all down with sweet tea. Then we do the obligatory raise of the plexiglass dishes to see who brought what? Where I come from everyone brings their homemade dish in a glass tupperware contraption with their name taped to the bottom. That way I can say, I don't know who made this potato salad but it is delicious. What is in that, is that seasoned salt? Then you lift up the dish and say, look here it was Cherlene. She needs to watch all that salt with her high blood pressure. Bless her heart.
Then we wash the dishes and high-tail it out there by 3 o'clock because we've had just about all the screamin' kids we can handle and we're about to push ourself into a diabetic coma with the pecan pie and the chocolate eggs.
But, when we all climb into our Buicks and head for home, I want you to think about what Easter's really all about? It's about new beginnings. It's never too late for you to change. You can do something exciting. You can pop that work out tape in your vcr? You can book that cruise you've been eyeing in the Sunday papers. Maybe you want to try highlights for Spring? Don't get too crazy. Or maybe you'll think, what do I need to change in my life? Do I need to be a better person? Is there a life I haven't been living? Did anybody else get that from the Bible or did you wait for one of those Mel Gibson movies?
Mama's got some changes on the horizon. Life is all about changing. It's got to be or else we'd never get anything done. There are 2 lives for all of us … the life we live and the “unlived” life within us.
I hope you and yours have a wonderful Easter and enjoy the potato salad.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Ma-Me: Honey, You really need to get to a church
Me: I'm good, don't you worry about me
Ma-Me: Naw, honey, it'd be good for you
Me: What am I? A sinner today? Why are you concerned about my worshiping habits all the sudden?
Ma-Me:Everybody needs a little God now and then. You know you were never baptized
Me: That's because I was raised 1/2 Jewish and 1/2 Church of Christ. How does one pull that off?
Ma-Me:God don't care where you go, as long as you show up
Me: Well if it's just role call you're worried about, I am sure one of my friends can sign me in.
Ma-Me:You're such a turd. I'm trying to help you. Speakin' of, what are you doing with your hair? You look kinda crazy.
Me: Or you could say you don't like it
Ma-Me: It's frosted
Me: These are highlights (the year was 1994 don't judge me) everybody's doing this, Ma-Me
Ma-Me: Everybody is not, just the sissies and the sluts
Me: And this is what church got you?
Ma-Me: Don't get me wrong, I had my fun in my day
Me: Seriously, I will go to church. I may need to beg for your forgiveness
Ma-Me:Hey, listen, sluts get things done.
Me: We don't have to talk about this
Ma-Me: People always make fun of sluts, but some people think Marilyn Monroe was a spy.
Me: What are you drinking?
Ma-Me: She had Kennedy in the palm of her hand. Sometimes, literally.
Ma-Me:And you thought she was a slut?
Ma-Me: No I thought she was a lot smarter than me.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
But, while in line I had the distinct pleasure of listening in on the trials and tribulations of a certain plaid skirt wearing, all-girl-school world.
These girls, MaryBeth, MaryFrancis and MaryWhinesALot where in line in front of me, after ordering: a 6 peice mcnugget to split among the 3 of them, 2 diet cokes and one McCafe. I guess MaryFrancis has given up, too.
So Mary#1 says: "you're so lucky I have to drive my mother's hand me down shit volvo wagon."
Mary#2 responds, "I hate my Prius. I want a Range Rover, screw the environment. Al Gore's a fatass anyway."
Mary#3 says, " I got stuck with my Dad's Mini Cooper. Eww. It's so midlife crisis."
** I wanted so badly to say, "Does your Mom know? That your Dad's gay?"
But I kept it inside and decided to share my hatefulness with you, blog world. Amazing what a $25,000/year education delivers.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Yes, I went into that bar feeling like a cougar. But I left like a lamb, or maybe more like an old goat that you need to put down. So, thank god it was daylight savings time. Yes, I was thankful the bar closed an hour early so I could jump in a cab and get home. I used to run for the bar at last call. This time I ran for the door. Nothing worse than that moment when they turn on the lights- people scatter like roaches. The cruel overhead lighting is like finding a million love letters and none of them true. Things just are better in the dark, with some bass, but not too much, my damn ears were ringing through lunchtime.
Sunday morning I woke up and my feet felt as though they had been run over by a truck. You know you are old when your feet hurt. You know you are getting old when you have to start thinking about what shoes you are wearing and if the floors are going to be concrete or carpet. You have to start planning for the terrain. You don't worry about that shit in your 20s. In your 20s you worry if you have enough cab fare to get home after you paid two covers and four rounds of shots named after bombs. You worry if you can find your panties and your house keys when you wake up and realize that is not your ceiling fan you're staring at. That's why I always kept a spare pare of panties in my glovebox and a key hidden in a decorate plastic rock in the garden. Nowadays the only thing in my glovebox is asthma medication and antacid pills.
Yes, I gave that weekend hell. I said, "take that weekend!" I had to do it. I was feeling old and you ain't no good to nobody when you feel old. By Sunday afternoon my age called up and said, "sit the hell down, fool. What is wrong with you?" Thank god for the magical healing powers of taco bell. So, kids, let me leave you with a few cautionary lessons: (1)You are never too old to act the fool (2)Always have cab fare and (3) for God's sake wear comfortable shoes. With any luck you'll have a long walk home
do as I say, not as I do
Friday, March 12, 2010
It could be that I am just that out of shape. Yes, I know, I know, I need padded bike shorts. Well the good Lord gave me lots of padding down there. I just think it fell out and around the area some how leaving me exposed to a delicate situation. I probably cannot have children due to this unfortunate turn of events in gymnation. I fear had I gone for a full hour class (which was momma's goal) that it would have required two large men YMCA employees, a fireman, medic and a licensed badussy technician to remove the bike from my personal space area. This is no good.
I am off to cool in a tub of water and pray for daylight.
god bless your weekends, honey, you deserve it after reading this horror
Monday, March 8, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Saturday, February 13, 2010
i dont know if i believe in love
i believe in cold sores, and coincidentally i believe in herpes as a by-product of passion
i believe you can pay too much for a steak dinner (steak doesn't make me feel particularly romantic or horny as much as it does full and bloated)
i believe that there's no way a dozen roses costs $100 (and roses make me sneeze)
i believe that the greeting card industry makes millions of dollars on couples but the spirits and wine industries make double in the single market
i believe chocolate is the way to my heart- but only if you are a chubby chaser will this work out in the long haul
I believe that we all want to be in love and probably need to be in love for chemical reasons in the brain (some people need this more than others)
I believe love changes as you get older
I really believe that I just need some one to believe in me and as much as I believe in them... I believe that is the definition of love
Sidecar: you might wonder how a little number like mamma got away? well, children, I ran like hell from love, and now nobody is chasing me.
Tell someone you love them. If you really do, good for you. If not, you both deserve a little nookie on valentine's day.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Monday, February 1, 2010
The real reason that I'm drinking Shiraz tonight? I took a quiz on heart health over the weekend, and it turns out that I'm doing almost everything exactly right. There are only two things that my results said could do better: (1) I should lose weight, and (2) I should actually drink MORE red wine.
I decided it would be easier to drink the wine. :-)
Friday, January 22, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Wouldn't it be nice to live in a country where farmers are valued more than lawyers?
Wouldn't it be nice to live in a country where responsibility is rewarded more than greed?
Wouldn't it be nice to live in a country where health isn't influenced by profit margins?
Wouldn't it be nice to live in a country where health is subsidized more than auto makers?
Wouldn't it be nice to live in a country where rights for minorities don't have to be voted on by majority?
Wouldn't it be nice to live in a country where violence is more taboo than nudity?
Wouldn't it be nice to live in a country where the future is more important than past grievances?
Wouldn't it be nice to live in a country where we strive more to understand each other than to be understood?
Wouldn't it be nice to live in a world where we help each other, unconditionally, not just because we are all equal but because we can?
Don't forget tomorrow night is a telethon. What you give away comes back to you someday- that's what I always like to think.