Writing about nothing.

I'm sitting here in my quiet living room (everyone else has gone to bed).
In the mood to write, and totally wracking my brain for something.

What do I have? Nothing. Nadda. Zilch. I'm in brain dead writers block - still.

Although I am looking at Tessa perching herself in front of Houdini's (the escaping hamster) cage. He's sitting on his "loft" eating some cabbage and she is about nose to nose with him. Is she thinking "eat up you little jack wagon. get good and fat before I make you my midnight snack". I'm watching and giggling to myself but can't seem to get that in writing and make it funny.

And then my ADD brain switches to - Who in the hell designed bathroom faucets?
The bowl on the bathroom sink is HUGE.. So why are all bathroom faucets so small?
When you wash your hands in the bathroom, the faucet sits so far back you are actually touching the back of the sink bowl when you're rinsing.

I don't know about the rest of you, but in my house that particular area does not get bleached every day. So with the toothpaste spit, hair spray residue, razor leftovers, and over all general bathroom grunge, that can't be the cleanest place to clean your hands. I'm seriously thinking about putting a kitchen faucet on my bathroom sink.

Another ADD switch.
Who thinks up these plots for CSI New York? I'm a big Gary Sinise fan. I mean a REALLY big Gary Sinise fan. But some lady just electrocuted in a tub shaped like a martini glass and one of the CSI's says "looks like someone ordered death straight up".. That has to be the cheesiest line ever.
The worst part is.. I wanna know who did it.
And then I switch to - I wonder if Scott has been in bed long enough to have stopped tossing and turning. I wait at least an hour after he goes to bed. Otherwise we spend an hour just bumping into each other while we're trying to get comfortable.
He says I growl during this process. I deny. I say he crosses the center line. He denies.

So ya see readers. I'm blocked.
Busy weekend though. Maybe a Ghost Rally Friday, hoping to start cleaning the basement Saturday, Haley Reed's Birthday party Saturday, and if it's not raining, Corn maze on Sunday. There has to be something to write about in all of that.
Mom is going to the corn maze with us. That should prove bloggable.

Oh oh oh. I've met the most amazing woman on line. Her name is Nuccia and she is researching an unknown limb of my family tree.. Anything having to do with my family tree, has to have some humor hidden in it.
She is gathering a few more things for me. Once I get it and check it out, you can bet I'll be blogging about her findings..

I'm off to bed readers. On my way to see if Mr. I can't get comfortable has found his niche, I'm going to stop and see if the coughing I hear coming from the Queens bedroom is an actual illness, or her trying to get out of P.E. tomorrow.

smoke 'em if you got 'em

This post is targeted at BC/BS on Eastgate..
But only because that's the business I see every day.
Undoubtedly there are many.. Feel free to add the names of those businesses in the comment section.

Here is the thing.. I get that smoking is offensive to all of you non-smokers.. And I get that you don't want to see it or smell it.. or be exposed to it.
But just because you want those things, doesn't mean people are going to stop smoking..

The smoking law states that you cannot smoke within 15 feet of a business entrance.. Okay, I'm fine with that..
But that is the STATE law..
Anything beyond that, is at the discretion of the business.

BC/BS has a rule that you cannot smoke on the property..
They will not build a smoke shack, they will not designate an
area on the grounds with picnic tables and ashtrays. Nothing.
And it's not like high school where you could sneak a drag in the bathroom. I've heard you can't even sit in your car in the parking lot and smoke.

So, every morning when I pass BC/BS on my way to work, there are inevitably 5-10 people standing at the driveway entrance of the BC/BS property, trying to get their last puff in before they start their work day. I almost makes me a little uncomfortable.
And on the backside of the building there is a guard rail around the parking lot.. The employees are allowed to stand on the other side of that guard rail to smoke.
Remember the days of high school when all of the smokers were lined up across the street before and after school and at lunch, chain smoking.
If you miss those days, drive on out to BC/BS. It's almost nostalgic.

What's my point, you ask? I'm getting there.

BC/BS has a very lax dress code.. I believe they are even allowed to wear "lounging pants" to work..
So now in the mornings, you have 5 -10 people standing next to a big electrical or phone box (I'm not savvy when it comes to that kind of equipment) at the edge of the property, in their jammies, having their morning coffee and a cigarette..
Along with what I would guess to be 15 - 20 people at any given time, lined up along the back guard rail..
Or you might see several people crowded under one umbrella on a rainy day (I'm not sure ifthat's to keep them dry, or their cigarette). In the winter, they are huddled in their Uggs and winter coats.

This does not make BC/BS an appealing place to me..
Even as a smoker, I wrinkle my nose up every time I pass the building.
And for whatever reason, I try not to make eye contact..
Like I'm embarrassed for them.

Now all of you BC/BS people standing out there, don't send me nasty grams.. It's not about you.. I'm on your side. Really.

I have to wonder if BC/BS realizes how goofy the company looks for shunning their employees..
YOU ARE NOT GOING TO GET PEOPLE TO STOP SMOKING WITH THIS TACTIC.
Would it be so difficult to build a little shelter in the corner of the property.
This would alleviate the appearance that BC/BS doesn't like their smoking employees.
And it would alleviate the thousands of cigarette butts that are flicked outside of your building every year. if one person smokes 5 cigarettes a day, 5 days a week, 52 weeks, its 1300 butts.
In a building that big with that many employees, there are at least 40 smokers.
What's that, like 52,000 butts a year (you know they're all not being disposed in
an ashtray or garbage can)

As for you non-smoking employees, wouldn't you feel more comfortable if you didn't have to cross the picketing line of smokers?

Building a shelter is not condoning it, it's containing it..
We are talking about grown people making their own choice..
To most smokers it's a need.. Accommodate their needs and you will have less disgruntlement.

NASCAR and Walmart

Something you should know before I start..
I can't stand guys that go shirtless.. If I'm driving down the street and pass a guy mowing the lawn, running, riding a bike, or anything else without a shirt on. I say "put a shirt on".. Of course I say this to myself, not actually to the half naked man on a lawn mower. And it doesn't matter if they're a lil tubby, or in great shape with a perfect set of six pack abs.. PUT A SHIRT ON. And not a wife beater.. That does not constitute a shirt..
If I can't walk shirtless through the lovely streets of Danville, then neither should they..
Something else you should know. I love to go to Walmart.. Don't get me wrong.. I don't like to shop at Walmart. I like to go make fun of people.
There is a mirror section in Walmart.. Here is my idea.. Put the mirror section at the front of the store..
I'm pretty sure the people that shop at Walmart, do not have mirrors at home. And it seems like the people I see at Walmart all buy clothes 3 sizes too small.. And I'm seriously not just talking about the bigger girls in their belly shirts showing off their tramp stamps. The skinny girls are buying their clothes too small as well. If your tiny little ass cheeks can feel the heat of the sun when you bend over, your skirt is too short.
And if their clothes aren't too small, they're pajamas (I've complained about this before). If there was a mirror at the front of the store, people could check themselves out and know they need to turn around and go home to change.

With all of that being said. Scott took me to my first ever NASCAR race.. That's right I went to the Brickyard 400. I'm not really sure what the cars were doing.. I think there was wreck on the first lap.. But I couldn't tell ya.. I was too busy people watching.
I'm pretty sure a convoy of buses pulled into the area Walmart parking lots and picked up the cream of the crop and drove them to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.
I have never seen so many shirtless men in my life.. And remember those six pack abs I mentioned earlier?? None of those guys were there, that would have at least helped..
My favorite was the beer-gutted hunk-o-man with his pants on the ground. This guys gut was hanging so far over his slouched pants, that I'm not sure he would have been able to find the zipper when he had to pee. And to add to this handsomeness, he not only had both nipples pierced, they had stars tattooed around them.. Really???

Are matching tattoo's a new trend?? I don't mean couples with little matching wedding bands tattooed on the backs of their necks (as if that's not bad enough).. I'm talk about two guys with some kind of matching star shaped tribal thing on the middle of their backs (obviously they were shirtless also). Was one guy watching the other at the tattoo parlor and say "I'll have what he's having".. Come up with your own design dude.
Then there was the crew of fine upstanding folks sitting in front of us.
An older couple with what we guessed was their daughter and her boyfriend. The shirtless boyfriend was almost directly in front of me, covered in all kinds of bizarre ink.. The most interesting was a tarantula tattooed on the back of his head, yes his head.. His melon.. His noggin.. And not just any tarantula.. This tarantula had its little tarantula head replaced with a human skull. Picture it.. a spider body with a human skull. It wasn't long before we noticed the other guy (the girlfriends dad) had a matching tarantula on his head? In what world was this a good idea??
The whole crew of them was very entertaining.. But the best part was the younger of the two men.. I need to interject. The cars on this track are going like 200 miles an hour.. At that speed, they can't tell the difference between a gnat and the giant jets that fly over at the beginning of the race. Besides their dashboard and anything moving at the same speed as them, everything else is a blur..
But for whatever reason, this fleadick in front of me, thought they could pick him out of the crowd.. Every time a car went by that wasn't his driver of choice, he would flip them off and mean mug them with this intensity.. Like he was willing them to wreck before they came around the track so he could do it again. Please someone, fish him out of the gene pool.

Now lets talk about the ladies.. Have you seen those swimming suits with the sides cut out and the V line neck down to the belly button? Do me a favor.. If you are anything larger than a size 2 or any older than like 25, don't put one of these on..
There is NOTHING attractive about old wrinkled skin pouring out of the sides of one these little numbers.. Tuck it in to a turtle neck. PLEASE.
And for you skinny little hot girls. Stiletto's? at NASCAR? with your daisy dukes and pasties (okay they were really just bikini tops. But they were not covering much)? NO NO NO.. Even the NASCAR girls that are hired by NASCAR to do nothing more than look pretty during the race, wear full long legged, long sleeved race suits.

And a few rows in front of us, was this 60something year old Marylin Monroe wanna be in a sundress with platinum blond hair,sitting between two shirtless rednecks with mullets.. I can't say she was really unpleasant to look at.. But she looked and carried herself more like a Kentucky Derby woman. Not so much a NASCAR fan.. And for some reason she thought if she held her cigarette above her beehive and blew the smoke up, it was less obtrusive. Maybe it was.. I was too busy watching her look at the sky with her hand in the air, just to get a nicotine rush..

NASCAR food.. This is much like fair food.. You don't get it very often.. And you think it's going to taste better than it really does.
Last year Scott and Dad went to the race.. When they got home, they kept talking about these smoked turkey legs. Neither of them tried one, but they went on and on about how great they looked.
So after the rib tips, egg rolls, polish sausage, and hot dog (I have pictures to prove it).. I decided I HAD to have one of these turkey legs (I had seen a gentleman earlier gnawing on a bone that he had eaten clean. and he seemed to enjoy). So I order the turkey leg and before I could get the change in my pocket and walk away from the vendor booth, I had to take a bite.
I got 5 steps from the booth when a guy grabbed me (a little scary in this particular drunken, rowdy setting). I turned quickly, ready to defend myself, and he says "hey?? Is that good?" (he was looking at my golden brown turkey leg and drooling).
I looked at him, looked at the poultry, paused for a moment then looked back at him and said "not so much". As pretty as it was, there was NOTHING yummy about it..
I picked at the rubbery, greasy mess as we headed out of the track toward our car. And when no one was looking, I threw it away, barely touched.

So.. fast cars, lots of food, a little beer and an entire stadium of entertainment, and it was a fantastic day. I can't wait to go back next year.

Um.. Hi.. How are ya???

Okay, so everyone knows I love some facebook.

I resisted joining at first and I'll tell ya why. I wasn't the most popular kid in school. Not everyone knows this, but I was on steroids.. Not by choice..
For medical reasons I had to take prednisone for several years of my teenage life.
In case you don't know, steroids make you crazy and uh, how do I say this gently "bigger". Not only does it increase your appetite, it also causes cushings syndrome.. Which is a big round "moon" face, that matched my big round "moon" ass.
So add to the fact that I looked weird (moon face has a different look than just a chubby face), steroids totally changed my personality (as it does with most people). Bad choices, resisting authority, bucking the system, I usually felt like I didn't fit in or wasn't really noticed. I ate lunch alone or stood across the street with the "hoods". I spent much of my school days hanging with Mr. Rottman or Mrs. Chambers. But mostly struggling with the fact that the image I was portraying was not who I really was inside. But I couldn't seem to stop the effects.

None of this is really the point. The point is, I didn't want to join facebook because I figured no one would remember me and my only friends would be family.
I was afraid to send friend requests for that reason.
But I started getting friend requests that really surprised me.. It was kinda cool.

I kept track of how many friends I was actually getting. And got to build relationships with the people I so desperately wanted hang with in school. I'd like to think people got to know (and even like)the person that was hidden inside of me for all those years.
Then I got unfriended. Ouch.. I noticed the drop in my friends, but it took a couple months to figure out who it was (apparently I didn't really miss the updates from that particular friend).
So here is the point. I see the person that unfriended me, more than just occasionally. We never chatted on the phone, or had a girls night out. But we spoke about the things we had in common, had friendly conversations, said more than just "hi" in passing.
We know many of the same people and run into each other when we go "out".
So what do you say when you run into an unfriend? "hey" "how are you?" "whats been going on?"
Or "WHY THE HELL DID YOU UNFRIEND ME? DID MY BREATH STINK?" and to continue "if you hadn't unfriended me, I would know how you are and what's been going on".
So readers, I pose this question.. How do you talk to an unfriend when you both know they're an unfriend?

Or maybe it's three

Update on the hamster family.

After Tessa emerged from the cold air return vent, I never heard another peep. No rodent nail scratching on metal, no squeaking, no scratching.. Just silence.

When Scott got home from work, he even banged on the ducts. Nothing.
But we both know the smell of dead rotting rodent, and neither of us wanted to suffer through that. Or suffer through wondering if the little guy could have been saved.

So Scott headed to the basement. Remember the house is 100 years old. I'm pretty sure the duct work is too. After some banging and clanging he broke one end loose. But not enough to reach his hand in. He did however see the hamster at the OTHER END of the duct. After he pulled on it a little too much the other nails started popping out. The entire piece of ducting was (and is)hanging by one corner and about six 100 year old nails.

Scott lured him down with some popcorn. He squeaked and squawked and hissed (but never tried to bite).

He is now safely in the loft of his bachelor pad.

and then there were two.

Oh my Oh my.
The lady at the pet store said we had 2 male hamsters.
The hamster porn and the hamster birth proved her wrong (don't trust pet world to sex your hamsters for you).

Let me back up a little bit.
After the Discovery Channel worthy episode of hamster hanky panky, I googled. First I googled "hamster genitalia" to see if the girl at Pet World could have made an honest mistake. I guess it's possible.
Then I googled homosexuality in hamsters (I was really hoping), not likely.
Then I googled the gestational period of hamsters. It's 14 - 20 days in case you ever need to know. I did the math and figured it was going to be close to the time we were going to be gone for the weekend in Louisville (last weekend).
In all my googling, I learned that it is not only common for the dad to eat the babies, but it's also possible the mom will eat them. Apparently if she feels like her babies are in danger, she'll eat them to protect them. As a mother myself, I can't quite fit that in my brain. But hey, what do I know. And as psycho as this mother hamster has proven herself to be, I was pretty worried.
I figured I better move quickly to at least get the dad out and reduce the possibility that the babies were going to be dinner. It's kinda sad that I was more worried about their parents eating them, than I was Tessa eating them.

We went through the whole thing of finding another cage (thank you Jessie) to separate the dad from the pregnant mom. We thought we would get this done before the babies actually came. We were wrong.
The Friday night before we were scheduled to leave, as Scott was fixing up the dads new house and preparing to move him out, he noticed we had little hamster babies. Four of them to be exact.
As ugly as they were, they were still kinda cute.
She gave birth in the "loft" of the cage. I'm not sure that's relevant. But it does make it a little easier to peak in on them (or so I thought).
It's been a week now. Momma has barricaded herself and the baby into the loft. She has so much bedding and food up there, you can barely see anything.
I try to open the lid every night and check on them.. But it's not always easy.
For the last couple nights, I've only been able to spy one baby hamster. It's the same one every night.. So please tell me where the other three are.. Did she really eat her own children. And if she did, she had to have consumed their entire little hamster bodies.. I can't see a foot or a skull or anything. There is no dead hamster smell (I know first hand the smell of rotting rodent). They've just vanished.
My hope is they're alive and burrowed into the firmly packed bedding of the loft. But reality tells me they are not.
So we're down to three hamsters. The mom and one baby in one cage and the dad in a neighboring second cage.
Or so we thought.
This morning Scott was up and getting ready for work. He came in and woke me up (see the previous post to learn how paybacks can be a bitch).
He says "one of the hamsters got out". I had a little hint of panic as I didn't want anything to happen to the mom because she's still nursing the remaining baby.
He sees my panic and quickly says "it's the dad" and "he's in the heater ducts".

Upon inspection, there was a small gap in the wires of the cage. Just big enough for him to squeeze through.. He survived the fall from the table to the floor, and proceeded to survive the fall through the grate of the cold air return of the heating system (no one ever told me I needed to open that up and clean it out before).
He then proceeded to fall of a ledge, just out of arms reach and into the duct work of my 100 year old house. If we stuck our head in and looked back, we could see him running back and forth.
Scott scurried of to work and left me to ponder how I could possibly get the poor guy out. Duct work is too smooth for him to climb up.
So the McGuyver in me, flung a towel over the ledge he had fallen over, thinking he could climb up it and back into arms reach. Then I popped some popcorn and put it on the ledge to lure him out. And put his exercise ball down in the vent (with more popcorn in it), and I headed for the shower.
As I was exiting the bathroom I heard a ruckus under the floor. Hmmmm.. That's a mighty loud hamster for only weighing a few ounces.
So I walked into the dining room and as I turned the corner, I see Tessa hopping out of the cold air return (that we had mistakenly left open).

Now there is no noise or movement coming from the ducts. I didn't notice anything in Tessa's mouth as she was guiltily jumping from the vent. But she has killed before.
So now we have a dilemma. Tear apart the duct work? Or let Tessa back down to finish the job?

Hamsters

So Ryleigh got her first pair of Fancy Hamsters last week.
They have the fancy cage with tubes and tunnels, a wheel, a ball to get out and play in. Everything a happy hamster needs.

Ryleigh had two friends spend the night last night and undoubtedly played with the new hamsters all night long.

Ryleigh is spending the night at a different friends house tonight.

You need to know all of these facts.

Today we ate at a really awesome BBQ place, and I was dying to blog about it on my other blog.

So, Scott's in bed (he has to work tomorrow)and I'm watching Lord of the Rings with one eye, and working on my blog with the other eye.. And it was about 11:30.
When one of my already busy eyes spots something white dart across my living room floor. You guessed it, a hamster.
Now this wouldn't really have been a problem, except for a couple of issues.
1) I have a cat who has never seen a hamster before and is curious.
2) Ryleighs room is a shit hole and you wouldn't be able to find a large dog in there.
3) I once had a mouse crawl up the inside of my pants, getting clear to my left thigh before I realized it, forcing me to take my pants off at work and drive home in a blanket (that story is in the notes on my facebook page).

So needless to say, there was no way I could ignore the fact that a rodent was loose in my house. I assumed that she had put him in his exercise ball and forgot about him, and he bumped into something, knocking the lid off and escaping.
I felt pretty fortunate when he didn't run too far and wasn't horrible difficult to catch.
Imagine my dismay when I waded knee deep in clothes and crap through Ryleigh's room to return him home, only to find that the other hamster (remember it was a pair) was also not in the cage..
Ryleigh (or one of her friends) had taken one of the caps off the holes in the cage. Apparently she didn't know it could become an escape hatch..
And since her room is a dump, I didn't see the cap laying around to replace it.
So.. I put some Press-n-seal over the hole, put the caught hamster in and looked around in panic. If I wasn't careful, I could have stepped on a pair of dirty jeans and heard a squeak and last breath..
I slowly made a path to the door and went to my own bed room..
Me (softly): hey honey.
Scott (not softly): what?
Me: I hate to wake you up but........... the hamsters got out.. I got one, but the other one is still loose.
Scott: uh okay?!?!?!
Me: If it gets in bed with you, don't kill it. K????
Scott: or maybe it was a growl.

Wonderful man that he is, got up and headed for Ryleighs room.
He moved some clothes, some crap and a few more clothes, and out popped a little white head.. This one however, not so willing to be caught..
After some maneuvering, chasing, jumping, catching, releasing, catching again, He finally got the little son of a.................. hamster.

Both fancy jail breakers are back in their cage, which is currently in the living room, with nothing more than some Press-n-seal preventing the entire occurrence from replaying itself, Scott is back in bed, Tessa is laying on the back of the couch watching them run in their wheel without going anywhere, and Ryleigh got a text that said she will be cleaning her room tomorrow.
Oh the excitement that goes on here on Sheridan Street.

Really?

I'm all about free speech (obviously). And music is no exception. Yes there are some questionable lyrics that probably shouldn't be played on the radio.. But the Constitution says we have free speech. And I personally take advantage of that.

As for the radio nothing like a 6 year old girl singing along to Britney's "If you seek Amy". Google the questionability (I don't think that's a word) if you don't already know..
Never mind I'll just tell you (although I hate to say my 12 year old and her friend had to explain it to me.
Say it slowly and think of the game Mad Gab..

IF........ YOU........ SEEK........ AMY......

Hint: do I need to spell it out for you??

Oh I give up. What Britney is really saying is F......U......C.......K....... ME..

You just had an "ah ha" moment, didn't you..

And although Britney's next hit "3" (about her threesome with Peter, Paul and Mary) could easily make her the topic of this post, She is not.

It's actually the radio stations thought process on censorship that has me scratching my head..

Ryleigh and I were in the car tonight when Zac Browns "Toes" came on the radio. We both like this song and sing along to it.
The local radio stations play the edited version so that instead of "Got my toes in the water, ass in the sand" it actually says "Got my toes in the water, toes in the sand". This works out well since I don't allow Ryleigh to say "ass". Although in my opinion it takes away from the song.
But as she finished singing a line in the song that goes "Gonna lay in the hot sun and roll a big fat one. And grab my guitar and play". She says to me "oh that's nice to play on the radio". Pointing out that "rolling a big fat one" makes reference to rolling a joint.. Yes, my 12 year old knows more than she should about such topics (if you know me at all, you know the unfortunate circumstances that have brought us to this point).
So Britney is F..... U..... C..... K...... MEing either before or after her 3some, And Zac Brown is rolling dope (along with thousands of other not so discrete lyrics) But they edited out the word ASS????
Really?

It hurts to be this smart.

There are two things that I really hate. Okay more than two. But for the sake of this post, there are two things that I hate.
Exercise and roller coasters.

It's obvious about the exercise thing. I've gained a little around the middle in the last couple years. And my lack of energy is probably a sign. Lack of strength. blah blah blah.. I'm outta shape.

I'm most worried about the extra pounds. It's not like I'm obese or anything.. But my clothes have stopped fitting. And I really don't want to spend the money to buy bigger clothes. The double chin (that I had even when I was 108 pounds) is not a triple. My granny flags flap when I wave.. Tell tale signs that I need to do something.
I'm also not a guru when it comes to getting in shape. My knowledge comes from watching Bob and Jillian beat up people on The Biggest Loser.
But from what I can gather, the idea of working out is to get you heart rate up, right? To like 120 or above. Can't do that playing facebook.

But I have a solution.. I was watching the Travel Channel last week. The show was all about extreme roller coasters. Some Bill Nye the science guy looking dork, wired him self up to a astronaut level of body monitors. Facial expressions, arousal level (little worried about how that electrode was attached), brain waves and heart rate. And while he was all wired up, he rode roller coasters.
Get this folks. The average heart rate of roller coaster rider is 120.
Now like I mentioned I hate exercise AND roller coasters. But I might just hate exercise more.
So I'm gonna be like Jared from Subway and invent my own weight loss plan.
If I ride a roller coaster like 7 times in a row, my heart rate will be 120 or above for about an hour. The exact time of an aerobics class that would get my heart rate to that level. So the exact time and heart rate I need to lose weight.
There is another bonus to this. Since I can't really aerobicize without my bladder reminding me that it's working, I can ride the roller coaster without wearing a depends.
I'll think of all of you when I'm living large on all the money the Theme parks are going to pay me to ride their rides.

My son thinks he can cook

In case you haven't heard (I can't imagine that you haven't) Andrew has moved back home.
This in itself is more stressful than you can even imagine.
He has been on his own for almost two years. So the idea of going back to any kind of rules alludes him. He is used to coming and going as he pleases, having friends over (including the new girlfriend) at all hours of the night, playing his music too loud, talking on his phone too loud, getting out of the shower without drying off first (or turning the water off for that matter), not cleaning out the bathroom sink. He is certainly not used to his 12 year old sister wanting to be part of his life. The list is endless.
I make the rules, he bucks them (the apple didn't fall far).

He does however get on me about eating out too much. I suppose this is a good thing for him to complain about. We do indulge in the convenience of fast food, far more often that is reasonable or healthy.

My argument to him is "pick a night and you can cook". There is just a slight problem with this idea.. MY SON CANNOT COOK.

Last night. Actually it was like 1 o'clock this morning, he decided that he was hungry. So he went through the freezer (since he's been home the food supply there has gone down immensely).
Anyway, he found a bag of frozen french fries.
I need to interject here that I can and do cook occasionally. But I do not fry. For a couple reasons. It's not healthy (because apparently McDonalds is) and because deep frying is a mess I choose not to deal with.

So at 1am, I'm finally able to doze off. For a minute. I was woke up by this smell. I can't even describe it. But my bedroom was filled with it. I figured he was cooking something and rolled over. But it just kept getting worse. I could feel my nostrils clogging, my head aching, my stomach turning. It was horrid.

When I finally got up, the kitchen was dark. There was an empty pan on top of the stove, the oven was on and the lad was nowhere to be seen (I assumed he had taken whatever he cooked down to his room). But I still could not clear myself of the smell.
I sat on the couch waiting for it to wane. It didn't. So I called him (yes I was calling the basement of the house I was sitting in). He didn't answer. I laid down on the couch but the smell was still too strong to sleep.
Finally I walked down to his room. Empty. He seriously cooked this shit and then left in the middle of the night. I opened a couple windows and the front door. Lit a candle and called him again. He answered. He was at a friends house. Whatever.. I was pissed, but not about that (yet).
I said "what the hell did you cook". He said "french fries".
Okay "what the hell did you put on them?" He said "garlic powder".
He put a half a spice jar worth of garlic powder on a 1/4 bag of frozen french fries and then put them in the oven. It seems he must have forgotten about it because when I looked closer at the pan, there was half a spice jar of burnt garlic powder on it.
This is no lie, I inhaled so much garlic in the middle of the night, that I had garlic breath all day today. It is seriously still stuck in my nose hair. I can't stop smelling it, almost 24 hours later.

During our phone call, I asked him one last question "when did you say you were moving out?".

I see how I rate

So I have a brother (don't act surprised his name is Kevin). He's SEVERAL years older than I am.
I can't really say I would call him a techy. He's got a cell phone, an email address and a gun. But I've never seen him with a gameboy or a playstation. We had a Wii on Thanksgiving and I don't think he even attempted it. I'm sure it was an age thing. I will admit, I didn't attempt it either but I have good reason. If I so much as blow my nose, I pee a little. So jumping around trying to dance dance revolution, would have required a depends.

My brother also not an over communicator. We don't have weekly (or monthly) phone conversations to catch up with each other. We don't email and ask about what is going on in each others lives. I think he may talk to mom and dad once a week or so. I also don't think he has weekly update phone calls with our sister (Kim).
Pretty much the only time we talk is to find out what someone in our respective family wants for their birthday or Christmas. And if maybe if there is a family crisis that one of use needs to be notified about. He did call me last week to ask me how to wrap Lil Smokies in bacon (crisis?).

I usually do my family updating with his wife Melissa via email or facebook. She fills me on his TV appearances (he's famous) and what is going on with their daughter Elizabeth.

I'm a facebook addict. If I don't get on it every night to see what my friends are up to, I can't get to sleep. I believe I actually can take some of the credit for talking my mom and my sister into getting an account.
It great for keeping up on what my sister and her family are up too. Mom, Kim, Kim's daughter Stefanie and Kevin's wife Melissa are all on my "friends" list.

I NEVER in a million years thought I would see the day my brother signed up for a facebook account.. I've had mine for a couple years now. I tell everyone they need a facebook account.
But Kevin on facebook, not a chance.

It's also a great way to keep up with extended family. An example of this is the Lind family. The Linds have not always been in our lives, but I can't for the life of me remember a time when they weren't. They are a combination of friend and family and none of them live in Illiois.. I've gotten to know Eric Lind better through facebook (we enjoy some occasional smart ass banter). This will all make more sense in a minute.

So when I got home from work today, I signed on to see what kind of day all my facebook peeps had. As I'm scrolling down the page reading status updates, I notice this "Kim Wettersten and Eric Lind are now friends with Kevin Rollins".
Huh???
I looked at my notifications. I didn't have a friend request from Kevin Rollins.
So I went to Eric's wall and commented on the notification "how is it that Eric Lind is "friends" with Kevin Rollins before his own sister?" Eric said it must have something to do with priorities. And informed me that the only person on Kevin's friend list before him, was my niece Stefanie..
Whilst in this conversation I sent my brother a friend request, to see if he would accept it.
Then it occurred to me. When you are new to facebook it "suggests" friends for you and then you have to go send them a friend request. Or you actually have to go looking for people you would like to friend. That means that my brother sent friend requests to my sister, my niece, Eric Lind and three other people (he had a total of 6 friends as of 5pm this evening).
Then suddenly appearing on my status updates is this "Bev Rollins is now friends with Kevin Rollins".
Hey?!?!? What am I chopped liver?? He sent at least 7 friend requests and none of them were to me.

I just checked again. He's up to 9 friends and still HAS NOT accepted my friend request.

This is what I think.. He's afraid. He knows that I can out-facebook and out-smartass him. He's afraid that if he friends me, I'll write something on his wall that will have him laying under the desk in fetal position sucking his thumb.
Therefore, I shall call myself the facebook queen.