GAWD we are gross!

Maybe it's because I'm old now, wearing bifocals and everything. Or just the fact that I'm hitting a second childhood. 'Course, this one is more fun 'cuz my mom isn't there to yell! *snicker*

Anywhooo... As it was when we were kids, I've started making up words that only myself and The Man are privy to. And now you, lucky you! Mom, you might want to look away, I'm sure you will be properly horrified, so it's just best you wait until another day to read my blog.

Lately, in my old age, "Pee Keep" is a word I now use on a daily basis. Without grossing the world out, it's that little area that will hold a sneeze, cough, or laugh's worth of pee without getting all over your undies. Unfortunately, it's only one sneeze worth. Any more and you will have to change your clothing. Damn it.

The "Pee Keep" is also where my sister stores her farts. I think she secretly likes it there. Nice neat little bubble of air until it "POPS" and embarrasses her in front of her co-workers, and sets her off into hysterics.

The Man finds my use of the "Pee Keep" funny and will try to get me to fill it to overflowing, and seems to do just that, and frequently. I'm sure the neighbors are positive we are drunks and have privates that separate from our bodies, since I'm holding mine and running into the house so often.

Also in our home, we use "Tent", "Double Dutch", "Camel Kiss" *which I believe originated from my "Fart" lover sister* I'm a fragile little female, so The Man doesn't get a lot of my "Camel Kisses", although last night, I have to say I did overfill my "Pee Keep" when I gave The Man a "Camel Kiss". I got the hysterics when he jumped out of bed, horrified, mumbling about maggots and raw sewage from the hallway and trying to squeeze out the last of the room freshener. I couldn't hear much 'cuz the roar of my hysterics had taken over.

Never-the-less, I had to sleep with a towel, he slept with his hand curled around the can of room freshener, and the damned dog had to be let out of the room 'cuz his whining was driving everyone crazy. I don't understand the dog, excuse me, but I've been HONORED to smell some of THAT ass before and mine was WAAAAAY milder. At least I didn't scrub my butt on the carpet immediately after letting it fly.

And just for the record, The Man AND the damned dog try to gag me on a daily basis, so I was getting revenge. Unfortunately I had to overfill the "Pee Keep" to get it!

Olaf!

The nicest thing about having a fun boyfriend in your life, is him actually ENJOYING to answer the Unknown Name, Unknown Number calls that seem to come in daily.

"Ello, dis iz Olaf" Long pause.

"Ya, dis iz Olaf, you send pamphlet and Olaf will look at it and decide if I send money" Another long pause.

"Ya, you send paper to Olaf at 123 Cartright and Olaf will send money, maybe ya, maybe no" Shorter pause this time.

"Olaf no send money over phone" Very short pause.

"You send information, Olaf decide to send money or no, Olaf will call back"

CLICK

'Ya gotta love it. I'm going to have him leave a message being Olaf on the answering machine. So if you call me and a strange man is on the machine... just say hi to Olaf!

Again with the Tampon Box...

Buddy the amazing recycling dog!

Where've you been?!

I know I suck at updating my blog, but I had to work! For those of you unfamiliar with my work, let me explain a little before getting to the goods.

I’m a secretary. Now I know that we all have this exaggerated image of some fancy looking secretary in short skirts, full face make up and pumps, who change into tennis shoes for the long haul in from the parking lot or on lunch hour.

That’s not the kind of secretary I am. Oh, mind you, I WAS at one time, waaaay back in ’91 when I first started this job. I work with retarded people, ok, developmentally disabled to be sensitive. Not necessarily all of them clients. Some of them are staff. I don't just sit in the office, I sometimes actually have to get "dirty". In the literal sense.

My first month on the job, one of the “clients” lambasted my noggin with her “cooler” that she called her lunch box. I don’t know why. My co-workers and even my boss laughed and said that it was my initiation. Hmmm… I see where this is going. About 6 months into my job, I had more opportunities to be on the floor, had buttons ripped off my shirts, my hair pulled, and avoided more punches, bites, scratches and boogers than I had in 6th grade with Becky Preston.

Never-the-less, I no longer wear much in the way of “nice” clothes. I’m strictly t-shirts and stretch pants with Birks now. I know… why would I stay in such a position?! I love my job, I love my co-workers, and yes, I even love my clients! They are my friends and family. Even if some of them are BAD family. You know, the cousins that you tolerate at the reunion. You laugh at their lame jokes all the while, moving closer to the bar!

So on Friday, we had an “Inservice Day”. All this usually entails is that the staff goes thru some tortuous training, learn stuff we already know, gorge ourselves at the breakfast AND lunch buffets, and try to figure out how to sneak out without the bosses catching on. Of course, the bosses walk thru the halls like cheap security guards, approaching you with a smile, when they just want to see your hall pass or something.

THIS past Friday was actually a fun Inservice Day. It was set up so that we would have 4 different classes as well as a Health Fair. Meaning we could get free massages, Reiki, Chiropractic exams, bone density tests, blood pressure tests, etc… etc… The classes were all about Stress relief. A laughter class (which was GREAT, BTW), Nutrition, Fitness (thank you Sara, but I really don't want to be "taken real good care of" no matter HOW many times you wink at me), Finance, Hobbies, and the list there go on as well. There were well over 100 people that do Direct Care for our clients, so you can imagine how busy the day was. A group of us decided to ask for time off while the boss was getting her massage, she got off the table all wobbly and looking like she needed a cigarette. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t even nod, and even though as a child, no response meant yes, we, as collective, mature adults know that no response generally means no. Even if mom said yes.

So we are all now stress-free and are able to use that to help our clients right? Wrong. First thing Monday morning, as the clients start arriving for their day, the smell of poop emanates the building, not to mention the sound of the Janitor keys, staff looking for more air freshener, and of course, the miss-matched-ness of the clients' clothes, boogers, poop and all that fills our work week remind us, that Inservice Days are just for fun, a vacation with each other so that we don't feel so alone in our daily tasks. The reality of our day is spent hoping to enrich our clients’ lives, teach them to wipe their noses for crying out loud, to speak without spitting lunch, and eat in public without being thrown out of the restaurant.

I still won’t wear nice clothes and pumps, and I can see retirement on the horizon… it’s a FAR horizon, but it’s there, and if I can make even a little difference in just ONE life while I’m here… what the hell… I always hated panty hose, hated the noise I would make while putting them on. Hated the pumps and the uncomfortable dress clothes. Now I can work in comfort and even if I do have to go sit on the floor, get boogers or poop on my clothes, I don’t feel so bad! I would like to see my sister try to work with that on HER clothes!

That said, I know you understand my lack of the written word on Friday and my work catch up Monday. So now you can all shut it and leave me to picking food and spittle out of my hair!

Don't shush me!

It must be my age or there are some good-assed TV shows on that I just cannot miss. House is my biggie. I will drive over the speed limit and let the damned dog pee on the floor before missing any of that show. The Man knows that this is my favorite show and being the intelligent man that he is, he typically does not interrupt my watching of it, EVER.

He isn't much of a TV guy, but is willing to sit in front of the tube with me during American Idol, House, Bones, and Grey's Anatomy. So imagine my surprise when last night, we were watching Bones and I started to say something to him, and he said to me, "Honey, wait until a commercial". Ummm... he just shushed me... All I could do is stare helplessly at him while I attempted to remember to close my mouth. I stared at him, but he never flinched, he was entranced in the TV show. He HAD to see me staring at him, but never acknowledged me or my look of udder (yes, that was a fat joke) disbelief that I would be shushed just like that.

So "Bones" to him, is like "House" to me... ok then, now I know. But I will continue to silently stew at being shushed. Wow, is this how HE feels when I shush him?

We're old! Guess the honeymoon is over! LOL

Fat Fitness Guru

Did I mention that The Maniac was into extreme outdoor sports? Like hiking and camping in the middle of the winter? Did I mention that he likes to do this stuff so much that he is willing to camp OUTSIDE, without a tent, in the MIDDLE OF WINTER on Lake Superior? For those of you that are unfamiliar, think Alaska, but colder. Did I mention that he has climbed mountains and would love to hit Everett if/when he has the money to afford it? Have I mentioned that I’m old and fat and have no desire to climb anything higher than my bed?

Hence today’s title: Fat Fitness Guru. I am soooo not a fitness guru, nor do I have the gumption to WANT to be a fitness guru. However, The Maniac is pulling me along for the ride. We have started walking everyday. Now it wouldn’t be so bad, except that my muscles scream that they want to lie down, they scream so loud that they actually stop me in my tracks, and I try to laugh it off… “Ha ha, oh look at THAT honey” so for a FEW minutes my brain and muscles can fight it out without my muscles actually WINNING.

So I managed to hobble down to the park. So what that it’s only 2 blocks away, I was IN PAIN for crying out loud! There’s the playground and The Maniac thinks this would be fun for us to do. HUH? I’m OLD… and in case he forgot, I’m FAT too!! I might break something, either the playground equipment or a hip. Oh no, he’s climbing up this thing yelling for me to come on. Uh huh… sure, where’s my damned camera? The City won’t believe it when they have to come use the Jaws of Life to remove my big ass from the monkey bars, if I can get up there to begin with.
So The Maniac tells me, "just hang on to this bar and then lift your legs off the ground". Ok the concept sounds great, but ummm, I’m crippled remember, and fat. So in my stupid-ass-ness, I grab onto the bar and lift my legs up. HOLY CRAP… the burning begins in my fingers, my elbows have gone numb, and I fall helplessly to the ground, barely getting my poor feet under me. You just can’t be graceful at this age and weight, no matter what you try to do about it. Meanwhile, The Maniac is swinging from the monkey bars yelling for me to come on again. I give him the “I will have to kill you later in your sleep” look and he laughs and jumps down, jogging over to the swings. I think that’s probably something I can do, even if the metal digs into my hip fat. Barely recovered from last weeks’ spill in the office chair!

I sit down ignoring the uncomfortableness of it all. The Maniac has started swinging so high, that I feel the posts pulling out of the ground. OMG… we are going to die, the whole thing will come crashing down any second, and I will be sitting here with a smile on my face, and a broken hip.

Ok, so that didn't happen. I enjoyed our swinging, even with the posts pulling up, I enjoyed the laughter we shared thinking we were going to break the swings. I even felt ok walking those few blocks home. But boy, that bed never looked better!

Next week I try to quit smoking for good! HA!

A Princess in the Woods!

What?! I was only gone a couple of days, sheesh. I had to regroup, I actually had to work yesterday. Have to work today too, but thought I would do a quickie here!

On Saturday, The Man and I went out into the woods. He and The Hunter were going to laser out a drive lane thru the woods. Funny how you have been in the woods when you are young, tromped around and still you have stuff to learn as an adult.

I was shown the difference between a fresh deer track and a few days old track. Go figure. I saw the outline of a possum tail in the muck. I saw what they call a "widow maker" tree.
Oh, BTW, Birkenstocks are NOT good to walk thru the woods with. I lost my shoes more times than I care to talk about, I got mud caked on my shoes, and that sucking noise is NOT a good sound when you lift your foot up. My poor feet were killing me by the time we were done just from struggling to keep those shoes on my feet. My toes went into overtime, hanging off the front and gripping on! Yes, I had socks on, but they are now in the trash. I doubt any amount of bleach will get that black muck off of them. *sigh*
Anyway, I was intrigued by the turkey vultures, which The Man and The Hunter could care less about. We cooked over a fire, and they threw the scraps out in the swamp. Those vultures were circling pretty good and I was excited thinking that they were going to land and have THEIR lunch as well. The Man just kept saying I wouldn’t like it if they did, they are ugly and they vomit on you if you threaten them. Yea, well any more walking and I would have vomited too, so we would have something in common there!
The Man pointed out a tree that had some interesting aspects about it. He calls it the sex tree. I’m not going to try to explain it, I think the picture does that for me!!!
I will be buying some tennis shoes and/or muck boots this weekend so that when we head back out there, I won’t have to struggle with my Birks, and I won’t lose them in the muck and have to leave one or both behind!

The Diet that may kill me....

Today as I was eating the last of my salad, I bit into a chunk of tuna and imagine my surprise when I pulled out a small piece of glass instead of a bone. OMG... I hope this was the ONLY piece of glass that ended up in my mouth. No, no broken teeth, no cuts on my mouth, tongue or anything that I can tell.

I called the manufacturing company to let them know that I found it. OMG... they were all nervous sounding. I had to finally tell the last guy I spoke with that nothing happened. I didn't break a tooth or swallow it or anything, I just wanted them to be AWARE of it. Sheesh... I suppose they were nervous that I would sue them. No thanks! I have no desire to do that since nothing bad happened to me besides the fact that I had to eat a salad today!

I'm waiting for a call from them to tell me that they will be sending me a case of tuna now... LOL

I think I will stick to plain old lettuce salads that I make myself for awhile... *shudder*

BLAH!

Today is wet, rainy and a good day to be snuggled under the covers and listening to some light snoring coming from The Man next to me. Maybe even letting the damned dog in!

Think I've talked myself into a nice long nap! Maybe more tomorrow!!

Home Sweet Home

The Baby has a cold. So I'm sure, regardless of the amount of care I take, I will end up with her cold too. *sigh* The Punk asked me to pick up some cold medicine since I have one of those nifty Flex Medical Mastercards, and bring it over to her. I walked in and The Baby lit up the room despite the fact that she couldn't breath through that little bitty nose of hers. Poor baby.

I was soooo glad to get home last night and made a point to hug and kiss The Man a lot. We spent an hour or so in the kitchen talking before he had to aggravate me. Pinching the fat that connects my armpit to my chest. Then he would pinch himself. "What the hell are you DOING?" I asked him after about the 3rd time of him doing it. "Making sure we aren't dreaming!" So corny but soooo well received! I sure do appreciate his heart as well as his mind, and yes, the OTHER stuff too! *grinning*

I remember something my sister said a long time ago... "Imagine yourself sitting across from whomever 20 years from now, if you still are interested in what he has to say, then it's all good" Not word for word, but I still remember thinking about that. My little sister being so profound! I can't imagine sitting across from those-we-don't-speak-of ex, listening to him drone on about truck driving and drivel. Most of it would be the same thing I heard over and over and over again anyway, but with The Man, he's led such a full life, there's much to hear and learn. He's a country boy that is smarter than me, and I am WAY smarter than the average person! Think I will pinch my own self today!

Wow, how melancholy I am feeling for this cold, foggy morning. Sheesh. Think I'm going to start my period without the period! The crabby-cries as my sister puts it. You know what I'm saying. Your period is hours away and you either cry for no damned reason, or are on the verge of stabbing someone in the eye with your GOOD pen.

Again today, I will be very glad to go home and sit in my itty-bitty kitchen talking with that beefcake that I have been blessed to have fall into my life, talk on the phone with The Punk, and know that home IS all it's cracked up to be.

Weekend Wounds

The Man and I are working on the 2nd half of our first year together. The butterflies are still there when I come home and see him waiting for me, or whenever he's working on something. LOVE those back, shoulder and arm muscles. Yes, I have to admit that! So I'm shallow, whatever!

Anyway, Easter was pleasantly spent in our itty-bitty little house. We cooked for The Punk, her family, 'Da Baby Daddy's, Daddy, The Hunter, and The Man and I. Not a lot of people, but more than enough for our house. We only have room for 3 at our kitchen table, so those that weren't quick enough to get a seat at the table had to eat standing up or in the living room on TV Trays!

The Baby had hung out with The Punk and I in the kitchen while dinner was still being cooked, and both of us managed to skirt around The Baby, but ended up struggling to stay upright after tripping and stepping on the toys spread out in front of The Baby. I think I blew out my knee on the Rooster! The Punk twisted her ankle on it, The Man just torments me with it, no tripping over it for him, damn it. I did try to borrow the Rooster, just so I could call Shell up, make it crow and hang up the phone as she has done to the majority of us in the family for YEARS with that damned See 'n Say. But The Baby likes it too much to leave it behind this time!

So all of our dishes are dirty, everyone is walking thru the house groaning from overeating, and now it's nap time for at LEAST 3 of us!

I'm happy when everyone finally leaves and it's just me and The Man. I can't wait to smooch on him and talk with him in our itty-bitty kitchen, after which, The Man decides to relax on the couch where he promptly falls asleep. I'm being quiet while watching the ending of one of my favorite shows. All of the sudden that damned DOG starts to bark, so I roll a little ways in my office chair that I ALWAYS sit in, it catches on the corner of the rug, and flips over sideways. Now, being a fat girl DOES have it's advantages at times, unfortunately, not when you fall in your office chair. So I'm laying on the floor, the arm of the chair wedged into my hip and belly fat, my leg flung back in an attempt to keep myself from falling, but is now resting on the leg of the chair.

The Man wakes up, "What the hell, what are you doing down there?" Ok, so I'm embarrassed, I am in pain, and the damn dog is still barking in the hall. "Ummm, nothing" I try to GRACEFULLY get up off the floor, but after the arm of the chair dislodges from me, I think my hip is broken. SWEAR TO GAWD it felt like it. I'm trying to laugh it off, I swear The Man thinks I'm the clumsiest woman on the planet and just looks at me thru his sleepy eyes, shakes his head at me, asks if I need help up, which I laugh at. "Oh no, I'm fine *gasp*, I can get up by myself. Oh look, I held onto my Easter candy!".

So here I am, at work today, grimacing and groaning, you can see the distinct outline of the chair arm in the bruise on my hip. I won't let The Man know that I'm in pain, and will try to hide the GAWD-awful bruises!

Taking another Motrin now... *sigh*

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Friday night, The Man and I went grocery shopping for Easter dinner. I love to shop, and we did have fun in the store. Saw my sister and we were trying to run each other over with our carts while our men were watching and trying to act like they didn't know us. The Man did finally say to Shell, "Ma'am, you shouldn't be drinking and driving a cart" since she was crashing her cart into him and some other guy was standing off to the side wondering what the hell...

Shell did run me into the portable freezer, which caught me offguard, left a bruise on my thigh and started the hysterics, no tampon box in sight, but lots of shellfish! I knew if I looked at the people around us, all would have been lost! I did manage to get it under control before losing it completely and was able to continue shopping with minimal giggling in the aisle. Funny to watch people trying VERY hard not to stare and wonder if I'm one of THOSE people that are only allowed out for special outings or something.

As The Man and I were checking out, I looked up and saw MY "those-we-do-not-speak-of" ex in the next check out lane with his new girlfriend. Now I try very hard in my life, not to make snap judgements of people, but I'm still pissed at that particular ex, so of course his new girlfriend looks like a crack whore, a fat one at that, if it's possible. She's 10 miles of bad road, she's been ridden hard and put away wet, etc... etc... but I just smile at The Man since I've had the good fortune to find him and no longer have to be with that ex. Good riddence!

So we are walking out of the store with our Easter supplies, eager to get home, snuggling and movies on my mind when I hear: "Thanks Pam!" being yelled out across the parking lot, I turn and I see Fat Crack Whore hanging out the window of a beat up van. I must have looked confused so she continued, thumbing at the lug sitting next to her: "I've got Ken", so ok then... I can't just let that one go: "Good luck with THAT then!"

So Fat Crack Whore is also only 12? *shudder* You can't help but feel sorry for the woman... she obviously doesn't know that she's stupid!

No Easter Bunny here!

I was perusing the blogs yesterday and ran across the funniest and sickest picture on the web. So I thought I would use it here with Easter being a couple days away! Thank you Joe!



I asked The Punk if I needed to get her an Easter basket this year, and of course, even though she's considered an adult, she OF COURSE feels that she needs one... When do they outgrow that? And mom, if you are reading, I know how old I am, but I would like an Easter basket as well! So much for any surprises in THIS family!

I planned on getting Animal Crackers for The Baby, and maybe a little stuffed animal and an outfit, but damn... now I have to buy for The Punk and 'Da Baby Daddy? Yes, I know, it never ends, damned kids.

The Man again....

I left work early yesterday to get some much needed relief for my aching back and to take a nice nap without The Maniac waking me up! It was nice to feel that cool pillow under my head and feel those muscles relax a little for a change.

I heard The Man come home, but he only came in to tell me that he was home, ask if I was ok, and to tell me his best friend, The Hunter, was there. He let me sleep?! Crazy!

At 6pm, he must have been hungry. I can see the two of them in the garage discussing the various things they could cook up, The Man didn't come in and "wiggle" the bed, just kissed me a lot, which when you are dead asleep, is just as bad sometimes, bless his sweet heart!

Since The Hunter is relatively new to me, I do like to look at least presentable. Just so he doesn't whisper conspiringly to The Man, "Damn Dude, you gotta get something better looking, you see her HAIR?? Wow... Einstein is looking GOOD!" I can just hear it now. I got up and saw that they were going to make homemade pizza. Good GAWD... I'm sure some kind of venison would have made it's way on that pizza and Velvetta is NOT good pizza cheese. Even though THEY would have eaten it, I didn't think I could and decided to cook myself.

Nothing special, goulash. I made a big-ass pot of it thinking that we would have left overs. Mind you, The Man may be of slender build, but he can eat like he has a tapeworm, and The Hunter? Yea... I made enough goulash for a small army. A small army of 2 apparently. They didn't even wait for it to cool. It was quiet in our small kitchen with the exception of blowing and smacking lips.

It was a nice feeling to have these guys appreciate my cooking even if it was simple. At least it's edible now. We don't have to use much ketchup these days!! It's The Man's turn to cook tonight!

'Da Baby Daddy

I didn't post the first part of the week, so here you get a double whammy!

So The Punk and The Baby have left the nest and moved in with 'Da Baby Daddy a few months ago, but I still see them all fairly regularly. I am completely in love with The Baby who smiles at me and holds her arms out to me whenever I see her. Love that!

'Da Baby Daddy is very conscience of being "soft" when it comes to being caught looking at his offspring. But even though I have yet to catch him on film, he is still very much in love with The Baby, and with The Punk.
I continue to try to snap his photo with either of his girls with "THAT look" on his face. I WILL prevail!

'Dis es Reek

A few weeks ago, I started getting a bill for a magazine subscription to Super Chevy. What the hell? First, I don't own a Chevy, I own a Geo, close, but still. Second, why do I give a crap about Chevy's? So I call them after searching for 15 minutes for a phone number inside the magazine.

"Sanku for callin' Suber Cheby, 'dis es Reek, howmayIhep chu?"

Huh... well then. Seems that someone (probably those that we do not speak of) filled out one of those little cards and sent it into them and signed me up for a 2 year subscription at 55% off the newstand price! Wow...

"Yea, Reek, please cancel my subscription since I don't own a Cheby, nor do I care to read about them."

"Ok, I hab cancel your Suber Cheby mazine, hab a good day and sanku for calling"

Too bad "Reek" can't cancel my other bills.

Yes, I see it for crying out loud

It was 6am. The bed was being “wiggled” and I was deep in sleep, and I didn’t realize the reality of it all. The Man has found that “wiggling” the bed irritates me while I sleep enough to wake me up. He doesn’t know the torture I plan for him once I am awake enough to form coherent thought.

I woke up half dreaming about my mother. Now that’s a disturbing thought in and of itself. But The Man then has to mess with me while I’m still in dreamland. Talking to me and I just talk back. You know you are coming out of a dream when you are saying stuff like. “Yes, I see it for crying out loud” and your eyes are still shut.

I was having the conversation with my mother, but The Man’s voice was the one answering back this morning. It’s hard to feel stupid when you are still lost in that abyss. You talk, then you stop, trying to lift the fog of sleep yourself. You know you aren’t making sense, but you are helpless to stop the babble spewing from your mouth. The Man laughs, “WHAT” he says, trying to get you to say MORE nonsense so he can remind you of it later in the day. Nothing makes you feel violent in the morning than The Man taunting you at 6am. He wonders why I punch him in the arm so much.

So mom, I was dreaming of you this morning. I know you are on vacation, but wanted you to know that we were having a good chat until you were asking me something about seeing it. For the record, “Yes, I see it for crying out loud.”