Foniks

When did the pronunciation of certain words change.
When I was growing up.
Coupon was pronounced Q-pon. Now it's pronounced Coopon (coopin if you'reRon White).
Same with mute. It used to be myoot, now it's moot.
Cafe was Caafay, now it's cufay with the emphasis on the first syllable.

And why don't these words rhyme?
What - That
Wash - Bash
Home - Come
Cafe - Safe.

And while we're on the English language.. One word should NOT have twopronunciations.For example:
Live, can be pronounced Liv or Lyve
Read, can be pronounced Reed or Red.

I know you have some more of these language pain in the butts..
What's your favorite?

couch surfing, FB and Kelly

Can you believe I've been this quiet for this long???
It's been a while since I've blogged. I hope I remember how..

Okay so anyway.. I was running out of things to blog about.. When you never leave the house, the only people that give you stuff to blog about, are the ones that live with you, and you can only talk about those people for so long.
So I was in writer's block.

Then the unthinkable happened.. I got talked into joining Facebook (FB). Kara Dowell has been on me forever to join, and I resisted.. Then Dan Welch gave me a bunch of grief about it.. And finally I caved in.. Now I'm trying to recruit my family (you'll find the irony in this in a minute).
It gets worse.. My friend Beth Hay sent me an invitation on FB to be her neighbor in FB Farm Town.. Farm Town is this game where you actually have a blot of land that you can farm. You have to plow the land, go to the market to buy the seeds, plant the seeds, wait until they grow, harvest the crop and sell to make money, then re-plow, re-seed etc.. You also have to help your neighbors by tending to their crops.. And you can't do certain things until you recruit 8 neighbors.. I need three more, so sign up for FB and come be my Farm Town neighbor.. I NEED YOU!!!

Anyway, that's not ALL I've been doing..

Are you ready for this?????

I GOT A JOB!!!!

I have been signed up with Kelly Services since like 2007, right after Heatcraft announced the shut down. They've sent me on 3 interviews.. One of the places actually told me I was overqualied (never heard that at my last job).. They offered me the job, but didn't want to pay very well.
So, I was feeling kinda low..
Then last Thursday the district manager for Kelly Services called and wanted me to come in Friday morning to talk to HER.. She was making a trip to Danville to meet me..
I went in Friday morning and an hour later, I walked out with a J.O.B. that started Monday.
Get this, I'm in HR.. I am a recruiter for Kelly Services.. My duties include screening, interviewing, supervising AND EVEN FIRING (if needed). It's awesome and I'm pretty pumped about it..
Today was my fourth day, and they threw me in.. I did my first two interviews today.. And besides a couple technical errors, I DID IT!!! And I got an Atta girl.

Anyway I'm still alive, and yes, bragging a little bit..

You want privacy????

Remember when you were growing up and your mom would do or say something you didn't like.
For example not letting you wear what you wanted to wear..
"No Kerri, you may not leave the house in plaid pink pants and an orange striped shirt".
And you would stomp back to your room to change, mumbling "When I have kids, I'm gonna let them wear whatever they want".

I had one of those moments.

Ryleigh (who turned 12 last Thursday) has a MySpace. Yeah I know, that's a little young to start. Beside the point.
The other night I made her log on to her MySpace account so I could see what she had been doing on it.
I went through her friends list asking her who different people were, looked over her profile, went through her photos, I made her take a couple things out, and delete a description under one of the pictures. There were a couple things I didn't like.. But nothing that made me want to call Dr. Phil.
Then I went to her MySpace email account and was randomly picking emails to open up and read.
I didn't like some of them (she cursed). And I told her she wasn't acting very lady like and if she wasn't careful she was going to get a not so pretty reputation. Told her that I was going to check more often and if she didn't get it cleaned up, I would kill her MySpace account..
Just mom stuff. I'm sure all she heard was "blah blah blah".

Then it came..

"When I have kids, I'm not going to invade their privacy like you do".

WHOA!!!! I told her it was my house and my computer and I could look at anything I wanted.
But inside I was laughing my butt off.

What did I do? I got a piece of paper and wrote down her exact words and made her sign it..
It's in her box of memories, waiting for the day that she has her first "I've turned into my mother" moment.

This was my baby then.

This is my baby now.

No Comment

Many moons ago Bev Ryan told me to write a book..
An Erma Bombeck "Life is a bowl of cherries" kinda thing..
I love to write.. But, I don't call myself a writer.
As I mentioned several times I suffer from attention deficit disorder.. Which basically means my brain works like a TV remote with the channel button stuck.. I go from one thought to another without realizing it, or being able to stop it.. It also means that my fingers could never keep up with a thought, making it near impossible to get anything in type before the next fleeting thought interrupts me.
But Bev was persistent.. I can't really come up with topics like Erma.. When I write, it's always about stuff that is important to me (or super annoying)..
So I thought about what was important and decided if I were to write a book (I haven't), it would be for other moms that have troubled teens.. To let them know they're not alone, and to explain how I survived it..

I cried for about 3 years straight when Andrew was in his early teens..
And then one day Dana Williams who was my sister-in-law (Andrews Aunt) at the time (now she's just one of my very best friends), called me..
I had never heard anyone laughing so hard.. She asked me when they had made a movie about Andrew.. I was lost, but she proceeded to explain that she had just seen a preview for movie and if the main character wasn't my kid, she'd kiss my ass.. But she couldn't remember the name of the movie..
The next week, I saw the preview.. I called Dana in tears of laughter and told her she was right..
The movie - Malibu's Most Wanted.

That is the day I decided I couldn't cry any more (thanks D), and if I was to survive being the mother of a troubled teen, I was going to have to find the humor in it..
It was work.. His actions were never funny or something to be taken lightly.. Some times I would have to call Dana and ask her to help me find something funny in one situation or another.. Some times, the laughter would be at my own expense, some times it would be at his.. But I HAD to find something.

Many people in my life that haven't had to deal with a child like this, judged me. But it's a totally acceptable defence mechanism.. Even if you're reading this today and never knew about Andrews antics, you might think my humor tactic is wrong.. That's okay, it worked for me.

If you got a call at 2 in the morning that went something like "your son stole a car, ran from the cops, wrecked the stolen car, was under the influence, and doesn't have a drivers license", how would you react?
I lost my mind.. Cried, yelled at the cop that called, begged him to take Andrew home with him (he was an awesome man, very supportive and understanding as he dealt with a crazed mother) and then I laughed.. Not because what he did was at all funny.. I was completely mortified at that part.. Humiliated, pissed, you name it.. I laughed because I couldn't believe he wasn't smarter than that.. Who does something like that?? And I laughed because I pictured him jumping out of the car and trying to run, while he held his pants up (he does that gangsta sagging thing)

Back to the book part, which is where this post started (prime example of ADD).

So I decided a good way to test whether I could attempt a book was to try this blogging thing..
If I could get short little stories out, maybe I could do something bigger..
I never really expected comments when I started.. But they came, and I liked it..
Now I find myself constantly checking my blog to see if anyone commented on my posts..
And when there are no comments, I start thinking "hmm.. maybe no one liked it, or maybe they've all stopped reading"..
No I'm not fishing for comments, I don't comment on everyone else's blog..
I was just hoping I wasn't the only one with this teeny tiny case of paranoia.

Does anyone else get just a little disappointed if they don't get a comment?

Not always a smart ass.

As I was scanning channels last night, I happened upon a movie that kept me up until 3 o'clock this morning.
It was called "My Left Foot". It was the story of Christy Brown (a man), and it was a true story..

It reminded me of the days I worked for the local school district. I was a personal nurse for severe/profound special needs children.. It was a job that truly touched my heart.. Most of the kids were autistic.. But it was a mix of many different disabilities.. Developmentally delayed, physically handicapped, children that were products of addicted mothers, some kids that you would see and call "vegetables", and kids affected with cerebral palsy..
I would still be doing this job if it was financially possible (special needs nursing, doesn't pay near enough).

Every one of these kids touched me in their own special way..
We lost two of my girls while I was working at the school.. People who don't understand or may even be afraid of a special needs child might say "they're better off".. Well, nope.. All of these people have a purpose.. And losing those girls was devastating to me.. They were full of personality, and I couldn't wait to see them every day..

Why this post? Because the movie flooded me with the memories (I can't begin to tell you how much I miss the kids)..
Christy Brown was born with cerebral palsy (note the link to the United Cerebral Palsy foundation on the right side of my blog)..
C.P. is one of the cruelest diseases to me.. It is damage to the motor control center of the brain.. Most C.P. patients have spastic movements, speech impediments, drooling, they're unable to walk well, if at all.. They would look like what most people would call a mentally handicapped person..
Here's the thing.. They are not mentally handicapped at all.. In fact, unless they have other disabilities, they are just as intelligent as you or I.. But they are trapped in body that doesn't work..
In public they are treated like a retard (sorry about the politically incorrect term)..

My first job was with severe/profound adults, at Crosspoint.. Tom was one of my favorite clients.. Admittedly I was scared of him at first.. I started that job when I was 19, and I didn't know anything about mental illness.. He always smiled when he came in and with that smile came a stream of drool.. I avoided eye contact and absolutely had no intention of shaking his hand.. But as my time at Crosspoint progressed and I learned his speech patterns, I realized he was a pretty smart guy with a sense of humor that put Robin Williams to shame.. He refused to use a wheel chair or walk with a cane.. He stumbled through Danville, with pride in who he was.. Something many of us can't do..
I don't know what ever happened to Tom.. Last time I saw him was 15 years ago at the DACC springfest.. You see, the only job he could get was picking up garbage with one of those little poker sticks..
I hugged him, wiped the drool off my arm and told him it was good to see him.. But I could see kids (and sadly adults) staring..

Christy Brown was treated like a freak until he was about 8.. All of his limbs were basically useless except his left foot.. With it, he wrote the word MOTHER and a new world opened up for him.. He is a published author, a gifted painter, and a husband..
If you get the chance to see this movie, take it.. Daniel Day Lewis will stun you with his portrayal of Christy Brown..

In the mean time, when you see someone who has a disability that might otherwise scare you, say hi.. Or at least shoot them a smile.. It may not seem like it on the outside, but inside every human shell, is a soul..

Bon Voyage!!!

There were a couple things I wanted to do while I was off.
Spend time with my parents and do something exciting with Ryleigh..

So mom (Bev) and I hatched this plan to go see relatives on her side of the family in Texas.
An all girl get away.. They live in San Antonio and I haven't seen them in about 20 years..
I hate to fly.. I mean I seriously hate to fly.. But Ry has never flow before and I thought it would be a great experience for her..

Bev on the other hand, was all about saving a buck.. She immediately started map questing our route.
She had this all worked out in her head.. We were taking her Honda Accord instead of my roomier Kia Sorento, to save on gas.. I argued, she fought, I begged, she won..

My friend Beth lives in Irving Texas.. Here's how it was going to go.. We were going to leave tomorrow, drive to Irving, stay at Beth's, go on to San Antonio on Saturday. Stay there for two days and head back.. On the way back we would stop in Fort Smith and stay with my dad's cousin and then finish the trip on Wednesday or Thursday.. It is 20 hours each way..

If you really know me, you know that family is super important to me.. My kids are my life.. My daughter is a joy (for now). And often times I don't do grown up things because I'd rather spend time with her.. (She's growing up fast and I want to get in as much time with her as I can)..

I love my mom.. She is not just my mom, she is my friend..

Here's the thing.. No matter how much I love both of these people, I'm not sure I like either of them well enough to be in a Honda Accord with them for 40 hours..
Why? Three different generations means..
Three different types of music.
Three different types of hormones.
Three different types of restaurant choices.
Three different kidney/bladder combinations.
Three different desired car interior temperatures.
Three different sets of life challenges (mom-retirement, Ry-teenage drama, me-jobless and adjusting to a full time relationship).

See the pattern of threes here..
Every issue is the same.. Three different somethings, except one..
One personality..
That's right folks.. I am my mother's daughter and my daughter's mother..
We are all opinionated, vocal, we don't mince words and we don't hold back..
If you are our waitress and you suck, you will know you suck.. And you will know it three different ways.
Same goes inside the Honda Accord.. If you pick shitty music, you will know the rest of us hate it.. If you make a bad judgement driving, you will hear about it for the next 450 miles or until you make another bad judgement.. And when you get to a place with new humans, they will be told about your bad judgement (I speak from experience).

But even with all of this adversity, I was preparing myself to make the journey..

And then it happened.. Out of the blue.. The phone call blind-sided me..
It's mom..
Her: I found airline tickets for $XXX.
Me: BOOK IT..

Now I'm not sure if the afore mentioned thoughts had finally gone through my mothers head and brought her to her senses.. Or if the fact that it's 86 degrees in San Antonio, that made her change her mind.. I don't care why she changed it..
And as much as I HATE to fly.. I love the idea that I will not be in that Accord for 40 hours, more than I hate to fly..

We leave tomorrow and get back next Thursday.. Hopefully tan and relaxed..
And although I'm sure a road trip with three females would have given me much to blog about, I'm sure there will still be some antics to share when I return.

See ya soon Glascocks.

I have a coke problem

I'm addicted.. The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem, right?
Well I'm hooked on the stuff..
I require ounces of it daily.. If I don't get it, I'm impossible to deal with it..
It makes me feel happy, there is always some in my house, I often hide it from my kids.
Those are classic signs of addiction..
I also love the way it tickles my nose and throat..

THE BUBBLES.. I LOVE THE WAY THE BUBBLES TICKLE MY NOSE AND THROAT.
Coca-Cola.. Soda, pop, fountain drink, cola, carbonated beverage, sarsaparilla (that may just be root-beer)..

And you were so ready to think the worst..

I am a true blue Coca-cola addict.. The fountain kind.. If I have to drink it out of a bottle I will.. But if there is a fountain, look out..
Lately, I've been mixing diet and regular.. My dad swears it doesn't matter, he says "pop is the worst thing you could put into your body. And diet is no better than regular".. He's probably right..
After all, there was an email that went around called "101 things to do with Coca-Cola". One of them said to use it to remove battery acid from your car battery, or something..
I'm trying to drink the diet because for some reason it makes me feel better about how much I consume..

What brought this up? Well I have a question..
WHEN DID 32 OUNCES (A BIG GULP) BECOME A MEDIUM???
Remember the days when your parents would take you to dinner and make you get a small pop.. And you hated it because you knew the 6 ounce glass would be gone in 3 sips.. They don't make that size anymore..
The smallest you can get is like 20 ounces, a medium is 32, and a large is 44.. 44 ounces of battery acid eating goodness..

This is great for me.. You will often see me leaving a gas station with my 44 ounce Styrofoam cup..
The problem is Ryleigh.. I can already see signs that I'm passing the addiction on to her.. I need there to be a small, the way small used to be when I was growing up..

I'm going to hear about this post from my mom.. And this is what she's going to say..
"When you kids were growing up, we never even had pop in the house.. You only got pop on special occasions.".. She's right..
But when I was growing up, I didn't have a cell phone, or a computer, or a TV in my room (this a whole post in itself)..
Things are just different now, and pop is more readily available..
Ryleigh has a phone, a computer, and a TV/DVD player in her room.. And Coke in the fridge..

turning 40 and still riding horses.

Today I turn the big 4-0. I thought I would wake up feeling different.. Feeling old.. Looking older.. Joints hurting.. Maybe I would wake up and be covered in age spots (besides the ones that are already there).. Wake up with grey hair and a million wrinkles..
But guess what?? Nothing is different.. I don't look older than I did yesterday, I don't feel older than I did yesterday.. I woke up and did the same things at 40 years old, that I did at 39.. Took my daughter to the eye doctor, then to school.. Came home, let the dog out (Andrew's dog and a whole different post), and started a load of laundry.. This sounds fairly mundane.. But it's actually very exciting.. The world does not fall apart or even change because a person turns 40.. That's pretty good news..
Don't get me wrong.. I have evidence of age.. The veins in my hands are starting to bulge.. I have some crows feet and puffiness under my eyes.. Things that should be perky are looking a little more like lethargic.. But this gradual "easing" into "old" works for me..
And on the bright side, I inherited this wonderful gene from my mother.. I call it the "you don't look your age" gene.. So if need be, I could pass for at least 35..

Yesterday, I passed for 21.. Not really..
Mom and I went to Indianapolis to spend the day with my sister (celebrating me of course)..
The plans were to go to lunch and then do a little shopping..
We went to Joe's Crab Shack.. Crab legs have been my favorite food since I was two.. And I ate a pound of them for lunch yesterday (BLISS!!!)..
Craig was our waiter.. And when Craig came to our table to get our drink order, my sister practically yelled to him that it was my birthday, and she made sure to include my age (like the pin they made me wear, that said "fantastic at 40 didn't give it away)..
Craig said he would have guessed 27.. I liked Craig.. But it got better..
At the end of our meal, Kim reminded Craig that it was indeed an event.. And he walked away..
Good ol' Craig came back with a beat up straw hat and a broomstick with a horse head on one end of it..
Then my pal Craig SCREAMS to EVERYONE at Joe's Crab Shack that "This is Kerri, and she's celebrating her 21st birthday" (see why I liked him)..
He tells me (and everyone) that I must don the hat, and ride the stick pony through the Shack until he's done singing to me.. Then he whispers to me that if he is not satisfied with the way I'm riding, he will stop the song and make me start over..
So yes, ladies and gentlemen.. I rode that damn pony to impress.. After all, it was 90 miles from home, I didn't know a soul in there, and I will never see Craig or the stick version of Mr. Ed, ever again..
We're not sure if there are pictures or not.. After Kim took a couple I heard her say something about no memory card in the camera.. You see, she's older than I am.. Gotta wonder if her memory isn't a little more challenged ..
But it was a great day.. Thanks Kim and Mom for helping me celebrate.. I think I'm gonna turn 40 again next week.. Can we do Quiznos for lunch this time??

Today has been a good day to have a birthday.. And tonight I'm going to my surprise birthday dinner.. I can't wait!!!

Had your fiber today?

Have you ever been sitting on the toilet and thought "hey, I'm a little hungry, how about I eat some toilet paper?"..
Yeah, me either..
But apparently this happens..

I'm not a big Tyra Banks fan.. I don't dislike her.. But I don't go to great efforts to watch her..
The other night my daughter comes into the living room and tells me to turn on Tyra..
There are three guest.. One eats chalk dust and baby powder.. She tried Comet once (when she was pregnant) but didn't like it (go figure).. So now she sticks mostly to chalk dust.. She is a school teacher and when the kids leave, she rubs a piece of chalk (she doesn't like it whole), on a rough surface to produce her snack.. Then licks it out of the palm of her hand..

The second guest picks scabs off her head and eats them.. That's wrong on too many levels to list here..

They showed a clip of a non-guest's stomach content... They had to operate for abdominal pain.. They cut out a hair ball the size of a watermelon.. A WATERMELON.. Do this, pull out one strand of hair from your head.. Look at it closely.. How many of those do you think it would take to make a watermelon sized hair ball.. And not a small melon.. A big ol' family cookout sized watermelon..

The third guest eats toilet paper.. And not just once in while.. EVERY DAY.. How much she eats was a little unclear.. At first she said she ate a half a roll a day.. Then later she said she eats 4 rolls a week.. My Danville High School education says, that math is way off.. But then it showed a clip of this woman.. She was pulling stuff out of a bag she carries around.. And out came a roll of toilet paper.. But not a normal household roll.. Nope, an industrial giant roll.. Surely she doesn't eat 4 of those a week.. So I theorized that she probably eats normal household toilet paper most of the time, and the industrial roll is her "stash"..
Who does this??? What kind of crazy screwed up brain tells you to eat toilet paper???
The nurse in me says "what the hell does this shit (no pun intended) do to your body??
She claims she was just sitting on the toilet one day, looked over and got a craving.. I wonder, does one brand taste better than the other???
And too think, I just read when I'm on the toilet..


The next night Tyra had on guys that were "gay for pay".. If you're ever out of stuff to blog about, watch Tyra..

Shades of green

I mentioned the other day that I'm trying to help save the planet..

Saving aluminum, using old newspapers to start my fireplace, trying to get a filter on my faucet so I don't have to buy bottled water.. blah blah blah..

Well I'm not green yet.. More of an aqua..

Recall, I bought 5 reusable grocery sacks..

So yesterday I had a hair appointment and Ryleigh had an orthodontist appointment..
There was about an 45 minutes between them and I had planned on hitting the grocery store during that time.. I had my County Market coopins (that's only funny if you watch Ron White) and if I spent $50 I would get 25 cents in pump perks, putting me up to 70 cents off per gallon of gas at Mach1.. Got done with my hair, picked Ry up from school and headed to the store.. Before I got there I realized I didn't have my reusable grocery sacks.. And there wasn't enough time to go back home and still get my shopping done.. Plus the first time I use them, I didn't want to be the one bagging, so I wanted to wait until Scott could go to the store with me.. Ry and I stopped and had a coke instead.. With the plan to go to the store after the ortho appointment and when Scott got off work..

fast forward to after all that.. Standing in the check out line making sure I had spent the $50 (I love my pump perks..
I start to send Scott to the end of the grocery conveyor when I say (too loudly) "SHIT"..
My reusable grocery sacks are hanging on the door knob of my back door.. The tags are still on them.

All little girls are not made of sugar and spice

Well I did it.. Last Thursday I cleaned Ryleigh's room..
Can I just say.. OMG!!! She's darn lucky she was at school.

And before I go any further, you should know, I'm a complete germ-o-phobe..
I do not eat or drink after ANYONE..
At 11 Ryleigh should be doing dishes.. I won't let her because I don't think she can get them clean enough and then when I try to eat off of them, I gag thinking about it.. Seriously, my dish water is so hot, it burns my hands through the rubber gloves.
Any dishes that I send leftovers home in with Andrew, I tell him to keep because I don't know what goes on at his house..
If I HAVE to pee in a public bathroom, I will hold my purse by the handle in my teeth, I will NOT set it down on a public bathroom counter or even hang it on the door hook.. (do you have any idea how many bacteria are on those surfaces?
I love money, hate touching it.. ewwwww.
If you spray it when you say it, I will gag right in front of you..
Anyone or anything I touch is analyzed for possible germ content.
I used to have to toss Andrews room once a week looking for stuff that shouldn't be there.. I basically made myself Hazmat ready before I even started.. Then showered as soon as I got done..

Ryleigh is not much better.. And this is how it went in her room.

6 water bottles
2 Gatorade bottles
paper plates
yogurt containers
2 spoons
1 fork
Q-tips
5 (count them) 5 loads of laundry
A couple school papers that looked like they hadn't been turned in.
A note from the school that listed the dates and times that I was to cover the gate for the basketball tournament.. Get this, I was to do it in early December.. So now I'm sure they were talking horrible about me because I didn't show up..
And worst of all, a broken sock.. I kid you not.. Recall the problem we have with her feet.. I found a sock that was so stiff, I could break it.. Not tear or rip it, break it....
All in all, I came up with two lawn bags of garbage.. I decided the problem was maybe that she had too much stuff.. So I starting throwing crap away (so far she hasn't missed anything). I also took a nightstand and some stacking shelves out..

Anyway.. I got it clean.. Then we went all over Danville looking for a "cute" garbage can to put in her room.. (Kim, she wants one like Meredith).. But during our shopping she says "Why do I need one"..
Me: to put all that garbage in instead of on your floor..
Her: what garbage?
Me: Uh the Q-tips and plates.
Her: I'm not putting paper plates in it.
Me: Why not?
Her: because they stink..
You know that look of disbelief when your mouth is open and your eyes are crossed? I had it..
Me: They don't stink when they're on your floor?
I think I'm going to choke her.

Damn it Dixon

I will be the first to admit that I've never been a very green person.
We eat off paper plates, I probably have 450,000 plastic pop and water bottles in a land-fill somewhere, I throw newspapers in the garbage, I don't car-pool, I have plastic grocery bags stuffed into each other all over the place.. etc... etc... etc...

But I know I'm not green.. I have said out loud "we should use real plates" or "maybe we should use paper grocery sacks..

In the past year or so, I've become more aware of my bad habits.. I bought a trash can specifically for cans and foil.. And I do throw all my cans in it.. I don't throw aluminum foil in it if I've used it to line a pan that I'm going to cook something messy in.. I made chicken cordon bleu Monday, the cheese oozed out my chicken and stuck to the foil, that foil is headed for a land fill, I didn't want it to sit in my can for cans and get all stinky.
I'm not sure if I decided to recycle aluminum because I wanted to save the environment or because I like the idea that I can justify my pop intake by saying "the more pop I drink, the more money I can get when I take the cans to the junk yard".. I have to say it pisses me off that slim-fast cans are not aluminum..
I love to find new ways to make a buck.. Last Friday I took two 55 gallon garbage bags of clothes to the resale shop.. They picked through the giant pile and selected about 6 things they were willing to buy.. (hint, when you take clothes to a place like this, make sure they're not covered in cat hair). They ended up giving me $14 and let me leave the rest of the crap there for them to dispose of..
Just last week I bought a water filter that goes on the faucet so I could stop buying bottled water.. This is going to end up being more expensive than I wanted it to be because when I got it home, it wouldn't screw on because the threads on the faucet are stripped.. So to be able to use it and cut down on my bottled water addiction, I have to buy a new faucet.. Hey I think Janice Landi blogged about some plumbing work she did.. Janice, you going to be in town anytime soon???

So the point is, I'm taking baby steps to this whole "Go Green" concept..
Then along come a post on "My Random Thoughts" (Thanks Amy) And I got all guilt ridden and thought that I really need to do more to save the planet.. And I need to be a good example for my daughter who has 450,000 plastic bottles on her floor (it is a land fill in itself.).
Last night we went to Wal-mart.. I dressed for the occasion in sweat pants, a hoodie, my fleece lined crocs, and no make up.. While we were there I passed four shopping carts of "clearance" items.. Mostly Christmas stuff.. Except one cart was full of the reusable shopping bags..
Again - Thanks bunches Amy for that guilt trip you didn't even know you were taking me on while I was in my best white trash outfit at Walmart.. But I did it.. I broke down and bought 5 "go green" reusable shopping bags.. I thought it was kind of funny that the check out lady shoved them into a plastic bag..

Pretty lame post, I know.. But I'm putting off cleaning Ryleigh's room.. It's been on my "to-do" list all week.. Yesterday I cleaned the oven because I thought it sounded better than heading into ground zero..
I know what you're saying "she's 11, make her clean her own room".. Her idea of cleaning the room is to see how much crap she can squeeze under her bed and in her closet.. So probably twice a year, I go in and give it a complete over-haul.. Today is the day..
By the time I'm done, I'll be pissed, disgusted and needing another shower..
But not to worry.. Stay tuned, and I'm sure you'll hear all about it..

Say What?

https://www.getlistenup.com/ver7/index.asp?id=&refcode=GLU1002

Have you seen the commercial for this "listening device"??? I know you have..
It starts out with this older, presumably married couple.. It's very obvious this bitter old woman can't stand her poor hearing impaired husband..
It shows them in bed, she's reading a book and he's watching TV (you can hear the TV in the background)..
She turns to him with fire in her eyes.. I mean it seriously looks like if she had a weapon in her hand, this pathetic old man would be dead.. She says (in this "I hate your friggin' guts" tone) "Does that have to be so loud?". I think what she means is "if you don't turn that down, I'm going to rip your heart out and feed it to you for breakfast".
Then it shows her again and she's on the phone (you can hear music playing) she tells her friend to hold on in the same "I hate my husband tone"..

Ladies, you know the tone.. We've all been annoyed with our husbands at some point.. Well I don't think this old bat has ever been anything but annoyed with her husband.. She again yells at him to turn the music down.

She won't go buy him a real hearing aid.. But she is willing to spend $19.95 plus shipping and handling for a "Listen Up" that he can carry around..

Here's the deal.. You can hear with this thing, if you're willing to go through life one handed.. It's a set of ear-buds connected to a device that is a little bit smaller than an Altoids tin.. You put the ear-buds in and hold the mini Altoids tin in the air, aiming at whatever it is you want to hear.

In the commercial you see a little old lady sitting in church holding this thing up so she can hear what's going on.. I don't know about anyone else, but my church lasts a little over an hour.. I've played my hand held Yatzee game for an hour at a time before (not in church), and holding it up (in the same manner this 110 year old woman was holding up her "Listen Up"), made my fingers fall asleep.. I'm only 40, and still have pretty good circulation.. This lady is 150 and her blood is probably circulating at about the speed of Elmer's glue..
Her fingers will fall off if she holds that thing up for an entire church service..
Point being.. It's not super convenient..

Even though that's how the commercial starts, that's really not the target audience..
It goes on to show you what a great device it is for eavesdropping..
In a "Desperate Housewives" setting, it shows a woman checking her mailbox.. Across the street two younger women are talking.. The mail box woman is holding up her "Listen up" and catching every word they say (about her).. I can see this starting some neighborhood feuds..

Then a guy in a gym is listening to what two ladies across the room are saying about him.. They're talking about what great shape he's in.. What they should be saying is "look at that dumb-ass holding that thing in the air".. There really is nothing discrete about this thing..

There are so many things about this commercial that I hate..
Like the fact that is shows people going to church and people spying all in a 30 second time span. I'm willing to bet that if I asked either one of my ministers, they would tell me spying and eavesdropping is wrong..

I also hate the idea that it only portrays old people as hearing impaired.. I may still have great circulation, but my family will tell you that I can't hear worth a crap..

Or what about the fact that now when I walk out of my front door, I'm constantly looking for anyone holding their hand in the air to see if they're listening to what I'm saying.. This commercial has me paranoid..

So what's your favorite dumb invention? I'm desperate for something with blogability.

it's not all bon bons and soap operas

Well so far it hasn't been so bad..
Yesterday was really my first day at home alone..
I got up and took Ryleigh to school at the actual school start time..
For her entire school career she's gone to school an hour before it actually started for pre-care. And had to stay until 5 for after care..
So I took her to school.. Came home drank up a cup of coffee, got on the treadmill, watched Wheel of Fortune, took a shower, went to the police station to get finger printed (you can't go on a school field trip unless your prints are on file). I got back home about 12:45 and just kind of walked around the house.. I didn't know what to do with myself, so I took a nap. Then I got up and picked Ryleigh up at 3:30 when school actually got out..
If every day is like that, I'll be nuts..

Here are some things I've learned.. You can go 20 years without watching soap operas, and you still know what's going on.. I swear All My Children, hasn't changed.. Same people, same drama..
I no longer time things by the clock.. Instead of saying I went to pick Ryleigh up at 3:30, I should have said "I went to pick Ryleigh up half way through Rachel Ray".. I now know I can watch Rachel Ray until the second commercial break and still make it on time..

Today my morning was pretty much the same as yesterday.. But my mom called and invited me to her house for lunch.. Then we went to look at yarn.. She's going to knit me an afgan..
We stopped by a little diner that a friend I haven't seen in 20 years owns.. And guess what, I got a job offer.. Sorta.. She said to come back and talk to her about waiting tables a couple days a week.. Which wouldn't be too bad.. I waited tables for 8 years back in the day.. It would get me out of the house a little bit, and put some extra dollars in my pocket..
I'm not sure how serious she was..

Today when I picked Ryleigh up, she said everyone was asking her why she suddenly wasn't coming to pre and after care.. She told them her mom got laid off.. I'm glad she didn't say "lost her job".. That could be interpreted as "fired".
She did say she likes this new set up..

Tomorrow Ryleigh is going on a field trip to Springfield, she's begged me for years to go on a field trip with her.. They're going to the Lincoln House and then to some pizza place with pizza so big an overhead crane has to bring it to your table.. I think it was on the food network for something.. I kind of remember it..
Anyway, I went and got fingerprinted yesterday because I figured if I was going to be stuck on a field trip with 50+ 6, 7, and 8th grade kids, I might as well be a cool field trip.. But apparently all the other parents had the same thought, because when I offered to go and help, the teacher said that didn't need anymore parents.. Great.. That means I'm going to be stuck going on some lame-ass field trip to somewhere like the post office to see how mail is sorted..

Don't worry, I'm not going to give you daily updates of how I pace my house everyday, because I don't know what to do with myself..
But I thought I'd let you know I'm okay.. I can feel myself starting to relax..

The fat lady is singing

I have a reputation for not showing emotion..
But today is my last day at Heatcraft and it's all slamming down on me..

As I drove into work I thought "this is the last time I'll make this drive".
and so it goes.
This is the last time I'll sign onto this computer.
This is the last time I'll walk down this hall.
This is the last time I'll get a cup of coffee from this pot.
This is the last paycheck they're going to hand me.
This is the last time I'll pee in this bathroom.
I'm deleting personal stuff from my computer.
Sifting through ten years of emails I've saved.
Packing up ten years of crap that has accumulated in my desk.

I'm getting goodbye emails, and goodbye hugs from people I thought didn't even like me..
So little miss "never let 'em see you cry", has gone through a box of Kleenex..

And if one more person says "what's your plan?", I'm going to scream..
I don't have a plan.. Not even sorta.. I know I'm taking January to get my shit together..
Will I go back to school? Will I try to find a job that pays what this one does?
Will I go be just an LPN? Will I be willing to commute to Champaign?
Will I accept that I have to take a pay cut, and adjust my spending habits?
I have no answers to any of those questions..

This is what I know.. I'm gonna buy a treadmill and get my fat ass off the couch..
I'm gonna clean out my closet.. I'm gonna watch Oprah and Ellen..
I'm going to do some stuff with my mom..
And I'm going to purge Heatcraft from my system..

And then I'm gonna panic.. And hopefully that panic will set my on the right path for the rest of my life..

So this afternoon when I walk out of the Heatcraft door for the last time,
I'll look back and smile, and then I'll look forward to the next chapter in my life..
Whatever that may be.

I was over dressed at Wal-Mart

Well I went to Wal-Mart over the weekend..

It's always been one of my least favorite places to be..
It's crowded, people are rude, and their "roll back" prices, really don't seem all that "rolled back" to me..
I avoid it.. About the only time I go, is close to Christmas and if I need a new CD (Besides Chart, there is nowhere in Danville to buy CD's. And Chart isn't open when I'm not at work)..

So I chased a Xanax with a tequila shooter and headed out to Wally Martins..
I've made a decision.. I'm going to go out there once a week for the rest of my life, and I'll tell you why..

After getting through the first 5 minutes of initial shock, I started to feel really good about myself..
I mean REALLY good..
I'm willing to bet my self-esteem went up by like 150 points..

Where do these people come from??? Do I really live in the same town as them??
Who shops in their pajamas??? Don't get me wrong.. I LOVE my flannel jammies.. And when I'm at home, I live in them..
However.. I would not go shopping in them.. I wouldn't even run to the gas station in them..

And here's the thing.. These people are wearing jammies to Wal-Mart, that they bought at Wal-Mart..
How does security know the difference.. They could put a brand new pair of Jammie bottoms on in the store and just say "I wore them in".. And if that's the case, can I walk out with a TV and say "but I was watching it when I walked in"..

But if you watch.. Some of these girls flit around in their jammies like they're a Victoria's secret model..

Ladies... there is nothing sexy about flannel jammie bottoms that have Betty Boop on them.. Especially when your morning mascara is running down your face and your bed head is poking people in the eye..

I also saw a man in shorts, several people without teeth, a bunch of women wearing clothes that were about 4 sizes too small and a few husbands on leashes..

I always frowned at the people that were lighting a cigarette as the doors of hell were opening to let them out..
Now I get it..

Counting down the days

I'm a little sad today..
I was called to human resources to sign my "release" papers..
I'm down to 7 working days at a job I thought I would retire from..
But it's kind of like when a loved one dies..
When someone dies unexpectedly, it's much more difficult on that persons family..
I believe I watched my grandmother die for over a year.. She had emphysema.. And it was a slow miserable way to die.. When she finally passed, it was almost a relief.. We had watched her suffer for so long..
The ironic part is.. The day she died was the very day I started at Heatcraft.. I came to work at 7:30 that morning.. She died at like 8..
I think the past 10 months have been like that (a long slow death) here at Heatcraft..
When they first made the announcement, I was in denial.. I figured it was no big deal, and was just going to be a nice severance package for me to live on, while I take my time figuring out what direction I'm headed..
I didn't realize the affect every person here had on me..
Whether I like them or got along with them, or not.. I was affected by all of them.. It really was a family.. And with every family, some siblings get along better than others..
There are less than 10 of us left now.. And as each person left, a piece of me left with them..
(and a couple of them keep leaving and coming back, taking with them even more pieces of me)..
We all say we'll keep in touch.. And we all might, for a while.. But eventually we'll get wrapped up in our new lives and Heatcraft will be a distant memory..
A few years from now, we might pass an old Heatcraft "sibling" at the mall (if there still is a mall).. We might smile a little or nod.. But we'll be thinking to ourselves "they probably don't even remember me".. Or it may even be us thinking "I know him from somewhere.. but I can't remember where"..
Signing my papers this morning, finalized things for me.. And it's bitter sweet..
The last few months have taken a toll on me.. My friends and family would confirm that.. It's been a long slow death at Heatcraft.. High stress with no reward.. I'm exhausted and tearful at all times.. Every conversation I have, somehow turns to me being consumed with the shutdown and unemployment (sorry everyone)..
It will be sweet to finally let that go.. The relief part of a long suffering death..
Walking away from 10 years with my Heatcraft family, very bitter.. and very sad..
And to all you Heatcrafters reading, or lurking (see "a frog and her blog"), if you see me at the mall, say hi..
If I don't remember you, I'll pretend like I do.... ;)

PMS or the bus?

Why does PMS get such a bad wrap??

First of all..
GENTLEMEN..

PMS = Pre menstrual syndrome..
PRE.. DID YOU HEAR ME? PRE.. LATIN FOR BEFORE, PRIOR, AHEAD OF, the menstrual cycle..

I utilized PMS this week, and it felt good.. Because yes I am PMS'ing.. And yes, I'm a wicked horrible person for like 3 days.. And yes, I am aware of it.. And no, do not offer me a Midol because I will rip your head off..

I think I mentioned that Andrew blew up his car.. But I didn't mention that he got laid off.. So this means he sits at home all day doing nothing.. And like most 19 year olds, he gets bored..
Two or three times a week, he calls to borrow my car (that I've had less than a year)..

The car owner in me can't stand to get that phone call.. I HATE the idea of him driving my car..
With his history, he couldn't get a driver's license until a few months ago. So he's a new driver, with a proven record of bad judgment.. And even though it's used, it's my new car..

But the mom side of me feels bad for him being stuck at home.. I know what it feels like to be without a car, and it sucks.. With the ADHD, no job to provide him spending money, and no car to get him anywhere.. He has to be miserable.. It would break my heart to turn him down..

Then I got this idea.. If he doesn't ask to use the car, I don't have to turn him down, and there is no guilt..

So.. He called Tuesday and wanted the car for the afternoon..
Okay, fine, whatever.. That means I go pick him up on my lunch hour and he brings me back to work..

I was already annoyed that he was cutting into my lunch hour (in walks the PMS), and even more annoyed that he was going to drive my car and use my gas. And I had no idea what he was going to do.. He told me he needed to pick his friend Brad up, so he could help Andrew move furniture.. A lame excuse that I fell for..
There is just too much stress to argue with him right now..

On the way from his house to Heatcraft, I was sort of ripping his ass.. Telling him not to move the seat, not to do anything illegal in my car, wear a seat belt, don't use an entire tank of gas.. blah blah blah..

He came to pick me up at 4:35 (late) and he had Brad (we call him B-Rad) with him.. I got behind the wheel.. The seat was moved (laid back in "gangsta" fashion). And it smelled like they smoked a pack of cigarettes in the 2 mile drive.
Just a mom needing a reason to bitch, and a kid giving me one...
I mentioned the amount of miles he put on the car, and lack of gas in the tank.. Really stupid stuff to complain about.. But PMS over-ruled my senses of logic and compassion.

Then I got this idea.. It was completely intentional, I planned it..
I said "Mommy's PMS is in full swing, you might not want to piss me off".. I could hear B-Rad sink into the back seat.. But without missing a beat, Andrew says "Thanks for the warning.. I'll talk to you next week".

I think my plan would have worked.. My mistake was.. I chuckled when he said that.. He has a great sense of humor.. and he really does make me laugh..
Guess who called today to use my car... (sigh).

My mom fell off a mountain

Some things you need to know before I tell you this story..
1) my mother is a realtor.
2) my mother knows Stephanie Carneghi (towing company) socially.
3) my dad was hunting near Springfield.
4) my mother is listed in my phone as "ice" which is an acronym for 'in case of emergency'.

I had just gotten out of the shower late Saturday morning.. Put on my long, furry, warm robe and sat on the couch next to my daughter.. I was trying to figure out if I could get away with hibernating for the day, because it was cold as hell outside..

So my phone rings and is says it's "ice".. You'll see the irony in this later..
I answer it and the conversation goes something like this.
Me: Hello.
Ice: uh, hi.
Me: What's up.
Ice: I have a little problem.
Me: uh, okay? what?
Ice: I was taking my client to see a house in Indiana.. It's up a long winding hill.. And we slid off the road. Now we're hanging off the side of cliff.
Me: What?
Ice: (repeats herself)
Me: (I yelled at Scott that he was going to have to go help my mom)
Ice: uh no, one person isn't going to help. (then I start to hear the panic in her voice).
Me: What about a tow truck?
Ice: I don't know (more panic).
There was a little conversation about calling Stephanie Carneghi, but mom didn't have a number for her..
Ice: well he's (the client) out of the car.. But he says I need to stay in the car because he needs my weight to hold it.
Me: The car is falling off a cliff, and he told you to stay in it?
Ice: Yes. But it feels like it's moving.
Me: What?
Ice: it's moving. the car is moving. (big panic).
Me: Get out of the car mom.
Ice: I don't know what to do.
Me: if the car is moving, get out of the car.. I've got to get dressed and we'll be there with a tow truck..

Then the panic sets in at my house.. I'm trying to get dressed, look up numbers, and bark orders at Scott and Ryleigh. Ryleigh is freaking out "what's wrong with my grandma".. She must have asked 5 times before I actually heard her..

So I call Kevin's towing.. I've dealt with them before, I like them.. but they don't go to Indiana.

Then I call Carneghi's because, after all Stephanie Carneghi knows my mom..
The conversation went like this.
Him: Carneghi's.
Me: Is Stephanie available?
Him: Who?
Me: Stephanie CARNEGHI?
Him: (in a very shitty voice) She has nothing to do with this company..
Apparently Stephanie and Mr. Carneghi divorced and she owns Carpenter's now..
So I try to explain to this jack ass what is going on..
I've dealt with him before too, which is a complete post in itself.
He was such a jerk and wasn't understanding the seriousness of the situation..
So I said "ya know what, forget it" and hung up..

I called Carpenter's..
Him: Carpenter's.
Me: Is Stephanie available?
Him: No, but I can leave a message.
Me: No, but I need help..
And I start to tell him the story.. Apparently the battery on his phone went dead.. But then some lady picked it up and started taking the information that I had..
I gave her the address and she yelled it to the driver.. and asked him if he knew how to get there.. He did.
She asked if the car was drivable and I said "I don't know, it's hanging over a cliff".
Her: what? (she wasn't in on the first part of the conversation).
Me: It's hanging over a cliff.
Her: (with panic in her voice) repeats this to the driver.
I can hear him say "she needs to get out of the car".
Me: I already told her that. But I'm not sure, she could be over-reacting.
Her: (to the driver) she could be over reacting.

We wrap up the conversation and I continue to get ready..

My phone rings.. It's ice.
Me: I'm on my way, and I'm bringing a tow truck. Are you out of the car.
Her: no, he (the client) says there is no danger of it going over.
Me: Alright, I'll be there in a minute.

It's a 22 minute drive, and I'm thinking I can't get there fast enough..
And when I do get there, is my mother going to be smashed at the bottom of a hill.

But we finally get there.. This is what I saw..
The green Ford Expedition had slid off the road into a small trench on the drivers side..
You know, like the rut on the side of a dirt road.. About 5 feet from the actual drop off..

But the truck was so big and my mom is so not.. So from the passenger side all she knew, was the truck is leaning (a lot) and all she can see from her seat, is the bottom of the drop.. She couldn't tell how far they actually were from the edge..
By the time we got there, she was actually out of the truck, and we were all able to laugh..

It took the tow truck guy about 45 minutes to get the Expedition out..
From what I could tell, the guy had tried to get himself out and spun his tires, digging the truck deeper into the rut..

And just for the record.. It didn't even occur to me to blog about this..
Until my mom said "oh great, I can't wait to see what you write about this"..
So here it is mom.. Just for you..

Drama Drama Drama

I can't believe how much drama there can be in middle school.. Ryleigh goes to a very small private school.. She has literally been in the same class with the same 20 kids since pre-school.. A few have come and gone, but there is a core of 20 students that have been constant.. I pick her up every day and as soon as we walk out of the classroom, the chatter starts.. EVERY DAY..

The conversation always goes something like this:
Brittney (all names are altered because I can't spell most of the actual names) is mad at me because I sat with Susie at lunch.. But during science class Susie told Billy I wanted to go out with him, but I don't.. I like him as a friend though.. but even if I did want to go out with him, I can't. Because he went out with Jenny and she's my friend and friends don't go out with each others ex's..
And then I was crying in the bathroom because Nicky and Tiffany were making fun of me because my pants were too short.. But I don't think they are mom, they cover the tops of my shoes..
They're just in 8th grade and think they're so much cooler than everyone else.. But they're fake mom.. They were talking to Christy, who's kind of chubby, like they were her best friend.. And then when Christy walked away, I heard Tiffany say "she's so fat and nasty".. That's so mean, I would never do that to someone (yeah right).
I think I want to go out with Tommy.. I'm going to have Angie ask him for me.. He already went out with Tammy.. But that's okay because I don't like her anyway.. But here's the problem mom.. Mom? are you listening?.. There are 12 girls and 8 boys in my class.. So the boys I haven't already gone out with, have either gone out with one of my friends, or they're just too gross to go out with..

And she says all that before we ever get out of the building..

Now I've sat back and watched this since the school year started.. And I think I can define "going out"..
Going out when your a 6th grade girl, is define by the level of ignoring you do.. If you're going out with someone, you ignore them more than every other boy. You don't ever talk to them or make eye contact.. If you're standing in the hall talking to your friends, one of them will say "here he comes".. At that point you giggle loudly, say something like "he really said that?", and flip your hair without looking in his direction.
And when playing dodge ball in P.E., you hit the person you're going out with, harder than you hit any other person..
When it's time to break up, you always have a friend do it.. And usually you have them do it via text message or email..

Andrew played ice hockey for 6 years.. Your rhino glands haven't lived until they've smelled the aroma of sweaty hockey equipment, sitting in the trunk of a car for three days..

Back then I referred to it as "boy funk smell".. And on a good day, you could actually catch a whiff of it wafting from his bedroom.. I truly did not know such a smell existed.. And I firmly believed there could not be another smell worse than that..
I was wrong.

Last night I was sitting on the couch next to Ryleigh.. I kept smelling something that took me back to youth hockey days.. Boy funk smell..
It wasn't constant.. Just an occasional sniff.. I was too busy voting millionaires off of TV shows to think too much about it..

When I told her it was bed time, she gave me some grief.. She always does.. And I usually wrestle her to the floor, or tickle her until she can't stand it.. We have a Kodak moment, and off she goes..
Little different last night.. I got her to the floor and it hit me.. Like this brick wall slamming into me.. My eyes watered, my throat closed, I think my skin crawled..

I've known for a couple years now that she had stinky feet..
We talk about it, she has to keep her shoes away from me, she knows she has to scrub her piggies daily.. It's not something we were oblivious to.. She has stinky feet, I call them her "stinkies", she laughs about it.. This would be the "funk" in dysfunctional.

But last night.. OMG!!!!.. I'm pretty sure my beautiful 11 year old girly girl, had stopped at a pig farm on the way home.. And then waded through a field of rotten feta cheese just before she came into the house..
They smelled so bad, I covered my face..

And what did she do??? She took her socks off and smelled them.. SHE SMELLED HER PIG POOP, FETA SOCKS.. Yes ladies and gentlemen, I have a genius on my hands..

In our wrestling, she managed to get her stinkies all over my couch pillow (I think she did it on purpose.).. I kid you not, after she went to bed, I could still smell it on the pillow..

I would throw it in the incinerator (fire place).. But I'm afraid a mushroom cloud will appear above my house..

The cat is still alive.. Although I think she's trying to kill herself.. about 3 minutes after Ryleigh went to bed, Tessa had her head stuck in the shoe that Ryleigh had worn to the feta field..

Anybody have a foot funk smell remedy?

Reality bites

My mom would tell you that I watch too much TV.. And I probably do..
I have two types of shows I watch.
I'm not sure what to call the first type.. Drama I guess.. The stuff you have to figure out..
House - trying to figure what mysterious illness his patient has..
Horatio - trying to figure out why the pool boy was impaled..
Grissom - playing with doll houses that contain precarious positions of dead..
Bones - boiling skulls to find murder weapons..
You get the idea.

My other favorite is reality TV.. The competitive ones, that start out with like 16 people and they get whittled away to just two.. Then America gets to vote for their favorite, or whatever.. You know the kind.. The Mole, Biggest loser, The Next Food Network Star, Survivor, American Idol.

So last night on Fox, they're premiering a new show called The Secret Millionaire (and since it was in the regular time slot for Bones, I guess I had to watch).. Multimillionaires go live in poverty for a week (a whole week? I can't imagine).. They have to interact with people in poverty, without revealing their own social status.. At the end of the week (It's actually only 6 days), they have to give away at least $100,000.00 of their own money (I have to wonder if Fox is paying them to participate)..

Anyway.. There were two episodes on last night.. The first one was a sorta goofy looking lawyer that probably weighed about a buck ten.. He was tall and scrawny and wore high waters.. With him, was his over privileged 22 year old guitar playing, hippy wannabe son.. I was prepared to be disappointed.. I wasn't.. It was actually a really great show (except for all the crying. It was like an Oprah and Home Edition tear fest)..
The second episode was a rich southern couple.. He had started a chain of Raising Cain chicken restaurants, she sold her McDonalds franchise.. blah blah blah..
Now they're supposed to be undercover and appear to be down on their luck.. Yet they pulled up in a Suburban. And during the whole show, she had her Vera Wang sunglasses perched on top of her head, and the $125.00 manicure kept flashing across the screen.
He was good though.. In a battered hoodie, serious 5 o'clock shadow going on.. He was looking a little rough.. Although he stumbled a little when he was asked where he was from.. (He said Virginia, but surely they noticed the tags on the Suburban said Louisiana.)
It was sort of like it was his idea to play, and he just drug her unwilling ass along..
She just rubbed me the wrong way..
I realized I watched too much reality TV when I said "She just needs to get voted off"..
But I think I'll make that a new catch phrase.. Whenever somebody does something you don't like "just vote 'em off"..

trip to where?

Tryptophan break down.

Tryp - trip
to - to
P - pillow
H - have
A - A
N - nap

Actually Tryptophan is the amino acid found in turkey that according to legend, induces a "Turkey Coma" which is what I was in all weekend..
So thanks Mom for the great meal, and perfect day!!!!

Things you do when no one is looking

*Sing loud
*Have conversations with yourself
*Look at your ass in the mirror
*Pick your nose - oh shut up, you know sometimes it's unavoidable.
*Skip washing your hands after you pee
*Pee in the shower (then there is no excuse for not hand washing)
*Double dip (hopefully you didn't skip the handwashing before that)
*Drink from the milk jug
*Look in the car parked next to you to see if they're sloppy or neat

What else???

Pets are friends

Tessa is my cat.. I didn't get her as a small kitten and I'm not sure how old she is.. 12ish, I think..
In any case, I paid about $450.00 for her. And right now you're probably saying exactly what I would have said 12 years ago, "who the hell pays $450.00 for a cat?".. I do.. But not on purpose..
My ex-husband actually took me to the pet store because there was a dog there that he wanted.. I looked in the little glass room at a puppy named Bo.. Bo had the worst ever case of ADHD.. This dog was bouncing off the ceilings.. And since I was 8 months pregnant with Ryleigh, and dealing with an 8 year old son that had ADHD, I had no desire to take the hyper puppy home..
Then I heard it.. This faint little cry from the back room.. So I asked the clerk and she said it was a cat in the back office.. They were resistant, but I insisted on seeing her.. And there she sat in this little cat carrier.. Her little Siamese face staring at me.. At that moment, I knew she was going home with me..
Her price tag, $99.00.. I said "wrap her up".. I was told she was sick and had ear mites... "I don't care, wrap her up".. So they packaged her up with an antibiotic and ear drops..
I mentioned she was Siamese.. But she wasn't registered.. So my plan was to get her papered, breed her and make a ton of money selling kittens... HA..
It was probably 2 weeks before I delivered Ryleigh when it happened.. I was sleeping on the couch because I was so big and pregnant, I couldn't lay flat.. And I woke up to Tessa squirming.. I could actually see her stomach contracting, and then she would bleed out of her little kitty Vajayjay.. And on that fine Sunday afternoon, we rushed her to the kitty hospital, where she had an emergency kitty hysterectomy.. And $350.00 later, I've got a cat I can't breed..
I guess I didn't realize how attached I had gotten to her, until now..
She's sick.. I think she's dying actually.. And in the last 48 hours, I've spent a ton of money at the vet (right before Christmas, and the plant shut down).. I've brought her food to her on the couch, given her antibiotics that she hates, and last night administered fluids with an IV bag and needle (she didn't like that much)..
In the evenings I put her on my lap and she falls asleep (she doesn't have the strength to get down, but I suspect she would rather be left alone).. Every couple of minutes I tickle her ear to see if she's still alive.. Otherwise, I refuse to disturb her.. Last night I sat there having to pee for like an hour.. But I wasn't going to move her and risk waking her up..
It's funny.. I've taken it for granted that she was going to be around forever.. I'm devastated at the idea that I won't have to pick up hair balls, or roll the cat hair off my clothes every morning..
I guess I'm an ol' softy after all.
Who's your favorite pet?

Are you really going to eat that?

I just want to start by saying, it is impossible for me to be pregnant on SO many levels..
Although it would be a great excuse for my weight gain, I'm not..

Food combinations I've had in the last week..
Jell-O brand devil's food pudding cup and black olives.
Pickles and cheese (with a side of watermelon).
Chili and oyster dressing.
And I was eating potato salad the other night.. I can't remember what I was having with it (a donut or something stupid).. But my family was turning their noses up in disgust..

So what's your favorite weird food combination?

Oh Christmas tree

I was walking through Sears the day after Halloween..
THEY WERE PLAYING CHRISTMAS MUSIC..
Out loud I said "okay I'm not coming back until after Thanksgiving.. I can't take Christmas coming so soon.." Well come to find out, everywhere I went that day, they were playing Christmas music.. And I fretted all day about how "they" were rushing Christmas..
It's like they want to go straight from Halloween to Christmas and skip right over Thanksgiving.. Well I happen to love Thanksgiving.. And skipping it, just isn't an option.. Unless of course mom decides to not make noodles this year.. Then maybe we can talk about it..
Seriously, when I was growing up Christmas came AFTER Thanksgiving.. We put our decorations up the weekend AFTER Thanksgiving.. Most of the stores didn't put their Christmas stuff out until AFTER Thanksgiving..
I've noticed as an adult that the decorations and the Christmas sales are coming earlier and earlier every year..
BUT THE DAY AFTER HALLOWEEN???? It was just too much..
Don't get me wrong.. I love Christmas.. And I am mighty proud of both of my Christmas trees.. One is upside down (just because I think it's cool and my life was/is sort of upside down).

The other one has 5000 lights on it.. This is no exaggeration.. I can't lift it, it weighs too much.. And I swear when it's plugged in, the other lights in the house go dim from the energy it takes to light this thing.. (I'm attaching picture of the tree with most of the lights on it.. The picture is from two Christmas' ago.. I think I've added 3 or 4 super long strands since then..)
So I've been bragging to Scott about my perfect and very bright tree..

Last weekend I heard some banging around in the basement, and then some ruckus in the dining room.. He comes into the living room and says "wow".. I see the glow coming through the door.. He's brought my tree up for me..
At first I thought 'uh hello??? too early'.. And I was a little put off by the fact that I was going to have to look at it for a month longer than planned..

But he did drag it up for me.. So I couldn't really complain..
But now, I have it placed.. And I plug it in every night.. I get a warm fuzzy when I look at it (I also get blinded)..
I'm even thinking I'll get the rest of my Christmas decorations out this weekend..
Hey.. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em..

But mom, you're not off the hook for those noodles.

Doing it in Danville

At one point our city motto was "Do it in Danville".. My question is simple.. Do what in Danville?
Shop? Eat? Enjoy all of the many activities that are offered here?
I'd love to.. Just a couple issues first.. Look around man... It's a dying community.. And don't make that face like you're disgusted with me for saying that.. There is not one person in this town that hasn't thought it..
What activities?? Outside of my daughters occasional after school events, there isn't much for her to do..
She went to see a movie Friday night and when the movie was out, she was to wait inside the mall until her ride came to get her.. She has strict rules not to leave the mall until then.. It was after dark, and the crime rate is on the rise.. I also check the sex offender list on a daily basis.. Danville is definitely not short of child molesters.. A group of 4 kids inside the mall together seems a bit more safe than outside the mall.
She was told by Mall Security that without having a sack to prove she'd been shopping, she could not sit down in the mall.. Hello??? She paid for a movie and popcorn (was still holding the popcorn bag during this conversation).. That's a pretty significant purchase..
But not my point..
My point is, I would like nothing more than to keep my dollars local, by "doing it in Danville".. However, even if I can find something of interest here in town, I can't seem to get from point A to point B without going through the rest of the Alphabet first.. With one form or another of road construction going on in at least 5 places throughout town, everyone is forced to take alternate routes.. Generally the alternate routes are side streets and back roads that are only two lanes.. With the increased traffic taking these alternate routes, the two lane roads tend to get congested.. Add to this train traffic, and city wide road rage is off the chart.. I drive 5.5 miles to work every day.. Leave my house, taking side streets to avoid the 14 stop lights between my house and Ryleigh's school, drop her off, and take more side streets to avoid 6 more stop lights..
I cross 4 sets of train tracks and 2 school crossings.. My 5.5 mile commute takes no less than 30 minutes and has taken as much as 50..
The same holds true for any shopping or eating... Danville is running a little low on places to shop to start with.. And eating? I can't say there is anything special about the places you can find to eat in Danville.. It's all about convenience.. You can't get anything here, than you couldn't cook at home.. It's just sometimes easier to go out to eat.. Stop me if you think I'm wrong.. Oh yeah you can't stop me, it's my blog.. hehehe..
So here is my point.. with the increased congestion in traffic, the risk of being stopped by one or more trains, and the looping required to get somewhere that should be a direct shot, it's easier and quicker to hit I74 and head to Champaign.. I know if I go over there, I will be able to find whatever it is I'm shopping for, within a couple blocks of the I74 exit I choose to take.. And while I'm there, I can enjoy a meal consisting of something other than a burger or spaghetti..

Update on Andrew's car

He blew it up.. That's right, it now lives at the junk yard, waiting to be dismantled by someone who needs a spare part or two.. Although after seeing (and smelling) the garbage dump on wheels, I can't imagine any sane person wanting anything off of it..
According to him he put oil in it when he heard it "knocking".. What does that mean?? The car knocked on the hood and said "hey bud, little low on lubrication.. can ya hook me up?" Well it was just a little too late by then..
And he is without wheels..
Do I want to wring his little pea picking neck? You bet your ass I do..
But going through about 11 years of him doing things that I just couldn't wrap my brain around, I have learned to find humor in EVERYTHING.. Which will one day be the basis of my book "How to laugh at something that isn't funny"..
So what's funny about this??
For starters.. When the car died originally, Scott went to look at it.. He got it to start but it wouldn't stay running.. So he called Andrew and said "you're gonna have to put some gas it in it to make it go".. He had not only run it out of oil, but apparently gas too.. Picture if you will my thug of a son first walking to the police station in the rain, to call for a ride.. Then picture him carrying around my little 1 gallon gas can trying to get enough in his car to get him to the gas station where he put in $5.00.
When questioned about the oil, Andrew said "I put oil in it when I heard it knocking".. (kinda makes you shake your head, doesn't it?) That's impossible.. Shortly after Andrew took possession of the car, he tore the exhaust off of it.. You could here him coming 3 blocks away.. The stereo in it was so loud that my next door neighbor brought her newborn over at 10:30pm and asked that Andrew please turn it down prior to arrival because it had woken the baby up more than once.. I wasn't sure I understood this, because clearly the exhaust was louder than the stereo.. Once again my son said something that proves his genius "Tell her to close her windows"..
The driver side window motor went out.. So it's not like he could roll the window down and hear any pinging, or knocking or even an actual explosion..
My guess is, the car croaked.. Not immediately, but at some point after, a light went on in his head that said "wonder if it needs oil".. He admitted to me earlier that right after it died the first time, he put 4 quarts in it..
As I said, Scott got it running.. But the motor and transmission were pretty well gone and the car wouldn't go more than 15 mph (hey.. we should have sold it to the blue/gray hair lady from Senior Citizen Tuesday)..
So while I was at work Saturday, Scott (with Ryleigh in tow) followed Andrew in the speed machine to the junk yard.. According to Ryleigh while they were on their way, the car "popped" and white smoke came pouring out of it.. Call it dead, and play Taps for it..
So you see, the fact that Andrew had to junk the first car he's ever owned - Not so funny.. The events surrounding it, sound like a bad Laurel and Hardy show..

Irony at it's best.

As I mentioned in my profile, my son is a recovering juvenile delinquent.. What I mean by that is, we had several years of struggles and bad choices.. But at 19, he's living with his girlfriend, holding down a job, and paying his own bills (with an occasional supplement from the bank of mom).
He's doing much better now than I'd expected.. But with most 19 year olds, as much as they'd like to think they have, they haven't figured everything out.. He's no exception. And sometimes he'll say something that reminds me of how it was..

Trust me when I say, we are familiar with the police station.. We've been there on some not so pleasant occasions..
As a matter of fact, he knows many of the officers by first name because he was such a frequent flyer there.. If we're in public and see some of them, they'll say "Hey Andrew, how's it going".. We are not strangers to the "system"..
So this morning when I received a call from the PSB (Public Safety Building), all I could think was "here we go again" (with all recovering people, relapse is a constant risk)..
I was wrong.. My son's car broke down about two blocks from the station.. Not having a cell phone and not knowing anyone in the area, he had no choice but to walk to the station and use their phone to call for a ride..
When I hung up after talking to him, I chuckled to myself.. It was like he'd gone to an old friends house to use the phone..
It's ironic to me that the place he hated most a year ago, is the place he had to go for help..
This isn't the first time I've been wrong.. Two years ago my phone rang.. Caller ID said it was the Danville Police Department.. The conversation when like this:
Me: Hello (annoyed that I was going to have to pick him up again)
Her: Is this Kerri Rollins?
Me: Yes (in a voice that said I was about ready to rip someone's head off)
Her: This is so-and-so from the Danville Police Department.
Me: What the hell has he done now?
Her: excuse me?
Me: (spitting fire at this poor woman) You've got my kid, what did he do?
Her: Uh, I'm calling with the Police Benevolent Association looking for your support..
Me: Oh, no thanks.

Green means go

Am I the only one that knows there are stop light sensors in the road?
People that stop at a red light, 6 car lengths back from the light, drive me nuts.. I realize that not every stop light in Danville has underground sensors.. But a big majority of them do..
What does this mean? It means that if you stop your car on top of this thing, it sends a signal to the traffic light that says "hey traffic light, change colors".. If you stop your car before it's on top of this high tech mechanism, the traffic light never knows you're there.. Nor does it know know the 20 cars behind you are there.

trivial trivia

Anyone that has talked to me lately knows I'm just a little stressed about work (or not working as the case may be).. I work at Heatcraft and it's closing.. I only have 6 weeks left of steady income, and I'm a little freaked out about it..
I didn't realize how edgy I really was until this morning..
I'm a huge fan of the show House.. A true die-hard fan.. We're talking, if someone asks me to do something on a Tuesday evening I say "okay as long as I'm home in time for House"..
The local radio station (D102) has been doing House trivia for the last two weeks.. They ask a question and if you're caller number 10 with the correct answer you win for the day.. The prize is a House backpack, T-shirt, and season 4 on DVD.. If you win for the day, you go into a drawing for the grand prize to be given away tomorrow.. Grand prize is a House inspired leather jacket, helmet, and Pocket Rocket motorcycle..
Every day for two weeks, I've known the answers.. I can never get past caller number 4.. So today they get ready to ask the question.. I get my finger positioned on the redial button of my phone.. TommyB reads the question (it's in finish the sentence form).
House says "What am I supposed to do.................." He even listed three possible endings to that sentence..
I watched the show and took notes last night to prepare for this moment.. I didn't know the answer..
I called anyway.. TommyB says "caller number three, thank you" and hangs up.. I hit redial again and it rings several times then I hear "Hi who's this".. Which is TommyB's way of saying you're caller 10..
I panicked.. I NEVER PANIC - EVER (remember the mouse/pants incident? no panic). But today, I hung up the phone.. I DIDN'T EVEN TRY TO GUESS.. I HUNG UP THE PHONE...
This was like the straw that broke the camels back.. And here I sit surrounded by the emptiness of a closing plant, and I'm in tears because I hung up on TommyB.

Old folks, change diggers and lunch hours..

I get an hour for lunch, and it's a precious thing..
Usually I don't take the whole hour.. But I ALWAYS manage to accomplish something during that time.. Today's goal was to go to the credit union and make my car payment (forgot it was Veteran's Day), and go to the dollar store to get toilet paper..
Apparently I did not get the memo stating it was senior citizen Tuesday..
I got behind a white Buick of some kind.. Not sure of the model, but I can tell you the license plate number because I stared at it for what seemed like days, at the warp speed of 15 miles an hour, driving up Bowman Ave.. For those of you that don't know, Bowman goes from 30 to 55 in about a 2-3 mile span.. But we never wavered from 15 MPH.. She must have been going to Wal-Mart (never try that on lunch), because I passed her in the turning lane at Liberty.. I think it was a her.. I could only see her blue/silver hair reflecting off the window..
What's the spyglass thingy on submarines.. She had to have had one of those, because there was no way she could see over the dash.. It felt good to go slightly above the speed limit on Liberty lane..
So, I get to the dollar store at 12:05. Lunch is over at 12:30. I breeze through.. Got something to snack on, a Charmin 9 pack and head to the register.. I'm third in line - crap.. The first guy was pretty quick.. Paid in cash, took his change and his sack and left.. The next lady, not so much..
Her total was $9.55 and apparently she had the day off.. Because as soon as the cashier said her total, she leaned back past me saying "wait I forgot" and she grabbed a snicker bar (she really could have gone without it I think).. Cashier rings it up, new total is $10.53.. That's 53 cents more than the ten dollar bill she was planning to cover it with.. The digging began..
Pockets first.. Pants and coat (I love winter).. She jingled a little bit. But not quite enough, because then she went fishing through her purse, I thought for the rest of the change.. I was wrong.. The fishing produced a hot pink coin purse.. Then she started digging through that with one finger.. I see her lay a quarter and 2 pennies on the counter.. And back to the coin purse she went.. Another quarter was laid down, and now I know we're digging for nothing more than a single penny.. The cashier (God love her) says "here ya go, I got a penny" and collects the $10.52 from the counter.. She undoubtedly noticed the frustration and despair on my face.. I almost told her to put that penny on my debit card..
So I think a new law should go into affect.. "Kerri's Law". Which states that if you are retired, unemployed or on vacation, you may not drive, shop or bank between the high traffic hours of 11am and 1pm and also between 4:30 and 5:30pm.

Naming a blog

Okay this is just uncomfortable.. Everyone is blogging, I read about 5 different blogs every morning, I hear about blogging, you can't do an internet search without some blogspot hits popping up, there are millions of blogs in cyberspace and I want one to call my own. Everyone is coming up with these really cool, reflective names for their blog site.. And I'm staring into space thinking "uh 'kerri's blog' doesn't seem very original"..
I'd kind of like to steal Janice Landi's title 'a Frog and her Blog'.. But the blog Nazi said it was already in use..
So it was Bloggin' for Apples or Mud Bloggin'... I settled.. And here we are bloggin' for Apples..

I'm hoping to keep up with this.. I'm really worried I'll have trouble coming up with stuff to write about.. I also have a little ADD issue.. Just in the time it took to write this, I've had 4 bazzillion other random thoughts go through my head.. Like does anyone else subconsciously type phonetically? Instead of "did you hear about the parade of lights?", I typed "did you here about the parade of lights?" I do this frequently in work email.. Then a person will reply, I'll go back and read what I sent originally and think "great, I look like an idiot". Why did this pop into my brain? I've done it about 28 times just typing this post..
Look for wrong words or left out words in all my posts.. It's bound to happen..

Until then, would you like to blog for red or green apples.