Fire and Ice

Well, I made it back from my little "mini" college reunion this weekend. We laughed so hard that it feels like I have TMJ now. Here is a recap of one of the many bizarre conversations that took place (some of the details are a bit hazy...damn you Grey Goose):

Roomie: Hey Buzzy (my nickname from college for reasons will become readily apparent) - what ever happened to Greg W.?

Me: who the hell is Greg W.?

Roomie: the guy you dated that summer we worked at the bar

TD (to Roomie): you probably need to be more specific

Me: who the hell is Greg W.?

TD: remember - we all went to a party near the quarry and Berman passed out too close to the fire and his sleeping bag was smoking and instead of rolling him around to put the fire out we stacked small sticks on him.

Me: I don't think that I was there

Roomie: Buzzy, what the hell...you drove!

Me: What does that have to do with Greg W?

TD: You got pissed at him for something, and we left him out there. He had to walk back to town.

Me: Why did we stack sticks on Berman?

Roomie: You were cold

Me: Was he okay?

TD: which one - Berman or Greg W.?

Me: Who is Berman?

There is also a possibility that I drunk dialed some folks from my contact list. Um...sorry, and if you could give me a call back to let me know what I said that would be awesome.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

I haven't been able to post for awhile as my boss has kept me much too busy at the Lunatic Asylum. Numerous things to mention.....some good, some not:

Good: Meeting up with 2 of my best friends (roomie & TD) from college (ahh - the eighties)

Bad: Old college roommate is already irritated with TD because he keeps calling her to suggest that she clean her house before we get there.

Ugly: I lived with her and am pretty sure that TD is justified in his suggestions. It's likely to be a hell hole.

Good: We held a radio auction yesterday and sold enough to meet budget/revenue goals.

Bad: I have to get all of these people to come in and pay for their items before I leave today at 1:.30 pm.

Ugly: It's 1:00 pm.

Good: The kennel finally called me back and agreed to keep Bridie the wonder dog.

Bad: Bridie hates to be kenneled and will completely freak out until I pick her up on Sunday.

Ugly: My front room looks like it has a carpet of fur because of her incessant shedding. I don't see that problem improving any time soon.

Good: The young one got through the second week of school without any problems.

Bad: He came home yesterday and asked to borrow a lighter.

Ugly: I will be searching his room for illegal fireworks, pipe bombs and crack pipes when I get home today.

Ashes and Asses

I'd forgotten what a pain in the ass picking up a child from elementary school can be. There is a process to be followed. A one-way street with two lanes runs directly in front of the school's entrance. Cars wait in line in the lane closest to the school. When the child is picked up, you may veer left into the other lane in order to get around the line of cars still waiting for children. It sounds pretty simple, but apparently not.
*To the blue intrepid that insists on getting in line with the waiting cars only to put your car in park and exit the vehicle to enter the building to find your child: Consider this a warning.....there are people that want to put a hit out on you. Stop it.
*To the white escalade behind above mentioned vehicle: Why the fuck do you keep honking? There is no one in the vehicle.
*To the black Dodge Ram that uses the left lane to wait for your their child thereby cutting off any means of escape for those of us who have our children loaded and ready to go......you are a "jackhole"...'nuff said.

On a less homicidal note: The ash spreading went well. Mom's golf buddies were there with us and no police were involved. You will notice that my youngest is wearing two different shirts in the pictures below. He donned an Iowa hawkeye jersey for the actual ash spreading as my Mom was a huge hawkeye fan. He got a little carried away running and spreading at the same time. Not a good idea. And no, that is not beer in those cans, so no need to call DHS.

Be careful where you golf

Big goings-on tonight. Family and friends will be gathering at the house for cocktails and appetizers before embarking on a super secret mission to the golf course. In order to prepare for this shindig, we will be attempting to transfer the contents of this:

into approximately 9 or 10 of these:

Confused? Allow me to explain. We are pouring my mother's ashes into empty beer cans (the tops have been removed). Next, we will belly up to the bar (kitchen counter) for booze and appetizers. When dark is upon us we will don irish sweatshirts from Mom's large collection and make our way out to the golf course to spread her ashes just off of number #1 green per my mother's instructions. Why #1? Because that is the hole that always kicked her ass and apparently this is her revenge. For those of you that are thinking "my, that doesn't seem like a very dignified or solemn way to spread a loved one's ashes" you haven't been following along, have you? Wish us luck and pray for no wind.

(it has been storming here all morning, with severe thunderstorms rolling in this evening....yeah)

I may need a personality transplant

A big thank you to CatLadyLarew at How to Become a Cat Lady...... for this Premiere Meme award. Now for the hard part; before I can display the award, I must share with you seven personality traits and then pay it forward to seven others. So here goes.

1) I procrastinate - anyone that knows me deals with this on some level and it drives them batty.

2) My sarcasm has been known to bite people in the ass.

3) I am not an organizational freak, I'm a stasher.

4) I can be pretty funny in person too.

5) I see dead people. Okay, I don't always see them, but I sure as hell know they are there.

6) I have incredibly bad taste in men. I will go into the specifics at a later date.

7) I may or may not exaggerate. It depends on who you talk to.

Now for the fun part - paying it forward..........

Yo Mama's Blog

Reclaiming My Future

I Shoulda Been a Stripper

f8hasit

Yellow Trash Diaries

scallywags times - you probably aren't familiar with this one yet. He's my oldest son and I adore him...and I hope he changes the picture on his blog, cause he looks like he's in drag.

47 And Starting Over





Just a quick note to my sister (BadTwin) - could you be so kind as to explain why there is dog poop in plastic bags in the garage freezer? Any insight would be appreciated. It was not fun finding those bags. At all.

I can afford to move after I sue the makers of Binaca

So, I go to register Ryan for 5th grade yesterday afternoon thinking that it will only take 15 minutes. When I arrive at the school there is a line (2:00 in the afternoon people - doesn't anyone work?), and about a gabillion kids. I ask Principle Booker what the hold up is and he points to a large group of folk and says "new family". "Are there like 17 kids?" "No, 8 or 9, but they are really loud." And, of course, I end up in line behind them. The woman is holding a toddler who appears to be covered in mud and another small child is hanging on to one of her legs, while yet another child of 5 or 6 sits on the floor next to where she is standing. This child is screaming. Loudly. The woman introduces herself as Cheyenne and tells me they just moved from southern Missouri. Really.

Me: What brings you to Humboldt?

Cheyenne: Bud has a cousin here, and we thought it would be a nice place for the kids. (She nods her head in the direction of the hairiest guy I have ever seen. He has tufts of hair on his shoulders and back and is wearing a muscle shirt that is way too small. About this time, I am almost knocked over by three boys running full on through the line intent upon killing each other.) "Boys, stop running....(turning again to me)...they are excited about going to a public school". It is at this point that I realize that these boys look very much alike.

Me: How far apart are your boys in age?

Cheyenne: Oh, they're triplets. they are going to be in the 5th grade.

Me: (gulp).....oh, so is my son. So, they have been in private school until now?

Cheyenne: No, we just homeschooled them at the compound.

Me: (mind racing....they don't act like "compound kids".....compound kids are usually well-behaved as evidenced from the David Koresh and Jim Jones documentaries I have seen)

"Compound??"

Cheyenne: Yeah - more like a family ranch.

Me: Hmmm....(trying to buy time and work through information logically while trying to ignore the fact that the toddler has managed to unbutton his mother's blouse and appears to be trying to breast feed)

Right about then, I begin to notice a vile stench coming from the direction of the girl on the floor. The odor is horrendous and I want to retch. I begin to frantically look for something in my purse to distract me from the odor....anything. I find Binaca breath spray....hooray. I will just use it like an air freshener. Oh God....not working.....I'll just spray a small amount on my finger and place under my nose like Vicks VaporRub. Ah there, much bett....wait......what's that stinging my nose and lip. Holy Mother....it hurts.....fuck...........

Cheyenne: (to smelly girl on floor) Did you do what I think you did? You know they won't let you get away with that in 1st grade. (turning attention back to me) We should get our boys together sometime.

Me: (garbled words due to Binaca burning my skin off)

Mr. Booker approaches me at that point to let me know that I am in the wrong line, and that I should move over to the returning student's line.

It's going to be a great school year......I can feel it.

Cross BMX off the "things I wanna do when I grow up" list

My youngest was out and about yesterday enjoying summer like any 10 year old when I received a panicky call from his friend saying that Ryan was sun stroked. I asked the friend if he was vomiting or unconcious. No, he says, just sun stroked. Hmm.....tell him to sit in the shade and ride his bike home when he feels better, and to call me if he doesn't feel better. Thirty minutes later, Ryan comes in and and we have the following conversation:

Ryan: Mom, I wasn't really sun stroked. I was doing tricks on my bike, went up in the air, and when I came down, the bike seat went up my butt.

Me: ..................................(no talk, just open mouth staring)

Ryan: Did you hear me? Up. My. Butt.

Me: I heard you, I just needed to process the information. Do we need to seek medical attention?

Ryan: No, not until I have to poop.

Me: Alrighty then.

So far so good.....I think. Oh, and we are going back to this.

How do some people manage to stay employed?

So the phone rings today, and it is Jennifer from American Network asking to speak to Michael Carlin, our news director. There are multiple problems with this request. Michael has been gone for a year.....1 year...and Eric took his place. Jennifer calls at least twice a week and has, for the past year, continued to ask to speak to Michael. She also insists on calling at around noon, while we are on the air doing the news. I have kindly explained to Jennifer that Michael is no longer here about 100 times (give or take). I take this call as an opportunity to advise young Jennifer on the art of updating her records.

Me: Jennifer, do you have a computer?

Jennifer: yes.....why?

Me: Well, I need you to do something for me. I need you to update your records to show that Michael is no longer your contact. Take Michael's name off and replace it with Eric.

Jennifer: What is Eric's title?

Me: (are you friggin kidding me Jen?)...sigh....that would be News Director.

Jennifer: my record show Michael Carlin as the news director.

Tick....tick.....tick......Jennifer, I am terrified of you.

Chocolate Fountains are always a bad idea

My oldest called today and made me laugh my ass off. Apparently, he met some new friends in parking lot of his complex because they thought he was parking in their spot. It wasn't his car but he offered to slash the tires for them and then invited them over for beer and whiskey. Glad he's getting out there and socializing. I didn't get around to sending George and Nikki an anniversary card yet, so "Happy 2nd Anniversary" you cuties. I am posting some pictures from their wedding to celebrate.

(The happy couple plus Amelia)

(1.Bad Twin, Mom, George and Good Twin - me; 2. Karaoke with ex brother in law)

(1.Ryan after getting into the friggin chocolate fountain which I knew was just a bad idea;

2. Ryan & Nikki)

Our New Bundle of Joy

Our family expanded by one this weekend. Her name is Bridie and she is 75 pounds of fun. Bad Twin talked me into to taking her and we met in Minnesota to take official custody. I was told that she was a very sweet, 4 year old Black Lab. Imagine my surprise when Bad Twin drove in with this:

What's that you say? This isn't a Black Lab? I brought this very thing up to my sister, whereupon she says she thought she told me that it was a yellow lab. Huh....One of us has killed a few brain cells too many. Anyway, Bridie is sweet and I think we love her. On the way back to Iowa, she kept putting her huge paw on my arm as if to say, "thank you for opening your home and heart to me". In actuality, she was probably thinking "bitch, turn this car around right now and take me back to my people or I will cut you". I'm sure she will learn to love us.

We had another killer storm last night, and when I woke up I had the 10 year old and the 75 pounder in my bed. Good times.