LadyLady

Musical Monday

2009-07-14T00:04:00.003-05:00

Don't be a peen and tell me 1 AM on Tuesday doesn't count.

I like these, and maybe you will too.

The official music video is better, but the communist bastards wouldn't let me embed it here. You should still check it out, though.

I Feel So Dirty

2009-07-12T14:33:00.003-05:00

How could you play with my emotions this way, Disney? Didn't I mean anything to you? It was all a game to you, wasn't it?! You bastard!

Dear Bikers Doing 70 on the Toll Road

2009-07-10T00:53:00.003-05:00

How in the hell do you not loose your mind in all that noise? I couldn't help but notice the lack of brains exploding out of your ears and I was wondering if you could bottle some of that up for me because I could sure use it the next time my kid is in one of his never-stops-talking moods.

P.S. Could you please not drive side by side right in front of that sedan there? It totally makes me think you're escorting someone important and you know when that happens there's a security detail around eyeing everyone suspiciously and that always makes me feel guilty even if I haven't done anything, well except that one thing but that was years ago, and okay that other thing but that was years ago too although not quite as many and what's the statute of limitations on that sort of thing anyway? Shit.

Wordless Wednesday

2009-06-10T23:24:00.006-05:00

MOM! YOU HAVE GOT TO COME SEE THIS!

2009-05-12T18:29:00.013-05:00

"Is it good or bad?"

"Good!"

Caterpillarus twig mimicus.

Here you can see the red stripe on his back, which is Caterpillarian for Don't Fuck With Me.

When he reached the end of the stick he went a little epilepticrazy like he wanted to throw himself off but didn't have the courage. You can't see it in the picture, but there were laser beams shooting out of his eyes.

Happy Mother's Day to Me

2009-05-12T09:51:00.016-05:00

These are potted, which only slightly increases the chance they will not be dead a week from now.

HEB says these are Larkspurs, and you know I always believe what the store tells me.

Here is The Monkey, with the delightful bamboo plant he gave me. It came with the following warning: "Be careful for pandas, because PANDAS EAT BAMBOO!"

This is the look of gratitude I get every day that lets me know just how appreciated I am.

Here we have Fleurius Glitterus, also known as That Which Would Be Hideous Under Any Other Circumstances But Which Is Lovely When Your Child Picks It Out For You.

Don't Say I Never Gave You Nothin'

2009-05-11T11:32:00.002-05:00

Here you go.

Love,
Me

In Which I Defy Genetics

2009-05-03T14:12:00.005-05:00

"Thank god I'm not allergic to cats," I thought this morning as I buried my nose in Gus the cat's belly. I already couldn't breathe because of this cold/swine flu/apocalypse in my nose, so that probably would've been the final asphyxiating straw on the snotty camel's back.

My Mom and Brother are both allergic to cats so I'm pleased I managed to dodge this particular bullet. My Dad likes cats more than people so that probably helped.

Here are the two furrball members of our family. Gus (left) is the fiend who constantly schemes times and places to jump Maggie, and Maggie (right) is the one with the ghosts in her eyes.

Those Boogers Better Be Solid Gold

2009-05-03T13:53:00.002-05:00

Because when you cut me off doing 10 under the speed limit and I pulled up to see you staring vacantly into space with a finger jammed up your nose, I almost shit a gold brick.

It Has Healing Properties, You Know

2009-05-02T22:35:00.001-05:00

Would it be too weird for me to ask a breastfeeding stranger for some breast milk for my seven year old's pink eye?

Yeah?

Huh.

If you have the chance to use Northown MUD or Southwest Water Company

2009-04-30T16:51:00.002-05:00

I suggest you high tail it out of there as fast as you can. They're
inept, condescending pricks who after an endless time over three phone
calls with me have finally succeeded in making me cry.

I WANTED to talk to a supervisor to make some sort of formal complaint
about the shit service I've been receiving, but the supervisor was
hardly any better. So I got as high up in the chain as I could get, and
probably all I've got to show for it is a note in my file.

Customers should be able to make complaints about a company providing
them service for fuck's sake, and I should get a fucking apology and an
admission of some guilt on their part.

So I bring my complaint to the community.

Tired of Taking It Up the Ass

2009-04-28T12:47:00.003-05:00

By the bank, the credit card company, the IRS, AT&T Uverse, the general fuckwad portion of the human population, and most recently Southwest Water Company, who can suck hairy taint, the sweaty ripe kind that hasn't been bathed in two weeks and lives in dirty underwear.

Fortunately for you, there are still some good things left in the world, which keep me just barely on this side of sanity and thus saving you from enduring my foot up your ass.

You MAY Be Going to Hell...

2009-04-26T22:33:00.003-05:00

...if you are the person who covered up the bottom third of my "FOUND: 2 dogs" sign with your "blah blah blah lost chihuahua blah blah blah small black old blah blah blah" sign that no one will read because the print's too small.

I have ambivalent feelings about you. On the one hand, if I had lost one of my pets I would be freaking my shit out, so if you are freaking your shit out I can understand where you're coming from, and it is not a place conducive to thinking.

On the other hand, you are just a stupid dipshit for unnecessarily covering up the all important phone number on my sign instead of taping yours up three inches southward.

In this case, I deem you too stupid and/or self-centered to pollute this planet with yourself, and ban you to the fiery pits. Or maybe just purgatory.

Either way.

Someone's Getting Lucky Tonight

2009-04-26T17:52:00.003-05:00

bagels on counter + cream cheese in fridge + he just did it because he knew I'd like it = awesome

You Are Going to Hell...

2009-04-25T14:18:00.004-05:00

...if you are the person who covered up half of my "FOUND: 2 dogs" sign with your "Puppies for Sale" sign.

In your particular level of hell, you will be the director and sole volunteer of the only rescue organization in the world, with the weight of responsibility resting squarely on your shoulders while those around you breed willy nilly with little care but with an eye for profit.

PS Suck balls.

Warning, Warning

2009-04-25T14:16:00.002-05:00

Patience level is approaching zero.

Level of patience is directly inverse to size of can of whoop-ass next in line to be opened.

On The Threads That Bind Us

2009-04-19T23:34:00.002-05:00

OMG, was I high or what?

And I don't even do drugs!

Anymore...

Brain/Body Disconnect

2009-04-19T23:31:00.004-05:00

Today as I took a bite of a donut, before I could even taste it, I said out loud "Oh my god, that is gooood!"

WTF?

All right, I know WTF. *sigh*

Don't Divorce Us

2009-04-19T15:41:00.001-05:00

This made my cry.

I dare you not to cry.

FYI

2009-02-20T23:35:00.001-06:00

(This is an old forum post I found from Aug '08.)

If ever you get out of your car when it's running, make sure you put in
in park and don't assume having the E brake on will be enough. Also, you
might want to let your kids know that they don't have to press the
button on the E brake to raise it higher in case you go around the back
to re-close the hatchback and the car starts slowly rolling down on you
and you yell at them to pull the brake tighter. In fact, skip that part
and just have them put it in park so they don't press the brake's
button, releasing it completely, so the car comes rolling down really
fast and you're trying to push against it while running backwards and
you're almost all the way across the street before he jumps in the front
seat and slams on the foot break and puts it in park just as you are
about to get mowed down. You might also want to alert them to the fact
that the brake peddle is the one on the left, in case they didn't happen
to see it used one day long ago and have a good memory and then you
thank your lucky stars they happened to know that so they could slam it
down rather than mashing the gas and killing you because you were too
panicked to properly tell them what to do.

I also managed to electrocute myself today.

Thanks, I'll be here all night (if I can manage to keep myself alive
that long.

The Threads That Bind Us

2009-02-06T00:07:00.002-06:00

It occurred to me today, as I was folding laundry, that all of us fold laundry. It's somewhat akin to taking a shit, or putting your pants on one leg at a time (a funny phrase, that-- I cannot be the only person who often sits down on the bed, puts her pants on halfway both legs at a time, then stands up to finish the job.)

I was thinking about how all of us, no matter how different we are, fold laundry. The crusty-haired crack head at the laundromat, the new young dad high on fatherhood, the cranky businesswoman, the harried mom with a baby on her hip and toddler at her side. Hands of all sorts shake and fold clothes of all sorts, all so foreign to each other they might not belong to the same planet, or similar as sisters living next door to one another who had their kids a week apart.

Then of course it occurred to me that not all people fold laundry after all. Some are so rich as to have others hired to do it for them. What a strange world we live in, that shines with every color on the spectrum, eh?

Then again, many crusty-haired crack heads probably don't fold laundry either.

It's interesting to think of all the different things people think of to occupy themselves while tackling a task such as laundry folding.

Clearly, my mind wanders.

When your wife says...

2007-05-24T21:26:00.000-05:00

"You know what we really need to watch again? Alien Vs. Predator."

Is that good or bad?

Because I am that wife.

Why You Ungrateful Little...

2006-10-26T20:53:00.000-05:00

Me: I really appreciate you being so patient, Mo. I know we've been doing a lot of driving and it's really boring for you, and I really appreciate how good you've been. Thank you.

Son: *fake snoring*

Would you look at that!

2006-10-26T20:52:00.000-05:00

A year and a half (nearly) since I quit smoking!

AND AND AND

for my birthday this year, DH bought the patch and quit cold turkey. I can't believe we are both smoke free now. So amazing.

Ring Around The Destination

2006-10-26T20:31:00.000-05:00

Begin: 4:00, Earth
1. Pick son up from school.
2. Head over to hubby's work for a visit.
3. Arrive at hubby's work, slam son's finger in car door, learn hubby has gone out on an errand.
4. Go to WalMart. At the check-out line, learn mini pumpkins are more expensive than previously thought. Request to return them; get directed to customer service. At customer service, learn that mini pumpkin price is for both mini pumpkins and therefore less outrageous. At son's urging, request to re-purchase mini pumpkins; get directed back to check out line.
5. Check out, get half way home, phone hubby at son's request, learn he will be back at work in 15 minutes, head to work.
6. Arrive at work, learn hubby has been delayed indefinitely.
7. Head to pharmacy to drop prescription off.
8. Stop at gas station to fill up tank.
9. Arrive home, realize gas tank is open and gas cap is nowhere to be seen.
10. Drive back to gas station, search for cap, go inside to ask if anyone has found it, drive around some more, retrace steps home, arrive home without having found it.
11. Drive to AutoZone; buy new gas cap.
12. Head home and tell son "I thought we'd never get home!". Realize have just cursed self.
13. Pull in parking lot, realize it's time to pick prescription up.
14. Laugh hysterically.
15. While driving to pharmacy, very briefly consider going to hubby's work.
16. Prescription, check.
17. Arrive home.
End: 8:10, 5th Circle of Hell

Bad Mom

2006-09-22T23:32:00.000-05:00

I'm so depressed at the thought of my son getting sick...and not being able to go to preschool for a week or two.

Hostess Crack Cakes

2006-01-16T21:41:00.000-06:00

Seriously, what's in these things?

Wait, wait...I don't want to know.

ARRRRGH!

2005-11-17T09:20:00.000-06:00

It's on right now!

The second most painful thing about this whole thing (the first being this whole thing) is that Blue's Room can sneak up on you at any time. There you are, peacefully watching Blue's Clues, when BAM there it is!

Bastards.

PS What's up with The Goodbye Song? *cue In Living Color sketch* Hated it!

Why, Blue, Why?

2005-11-17T09:02:00.000-06:00

So Milo and I were watching our beloved Blue's Clues yesterday when this monstrosity appeared on the screen.

A blue, fluffy, 3-D puppet with a goddamn friggin frackin grasp of the English language.

WHY, BLUE, WHY??

This hideous mockery of everyone's favorite blue dog exists in Blue's Room--a place where Blue can "speak to her friends".

Now, WHY, I ask you, does Blue have to turn into a nappy, groddy PUPPET in order to speak?

And! And! THERE IS NO JOE IN BLUE'S ROOM.

Every time we return from Blue's Room, Joe wonders onto the screen and goes 'Oh, there you are'.

OH, THERE YOU ARE??

Joe is not ever supposed to say OH, THERE YOU ARE unless we have been hiding from him while trying to set up his surprise birthday party!

I feel so...violated.

Don't mess with perfection, people.

2005-11-17T09:00:00.000-06:00

I am especially glad I posted that smoking haiku because now I have a solid (roughly) date for when I quit. Which now allows me to calculate that I have been smoke free for

DRUMROLL PLEASE

Six months!!!

w00t w00t

Go me, go me.

Smokeku

2005-05-29T20:54:00.000-05:00

AKA Someone Put Me Out of My Misery

One week since my last
puff. Quiting's only healthy
if you live through it.

Splat!

2005-05-22T14:34:00.000-05:00

Cuddling against DH's back and we manage to sleep in the not-so-wee hours of the morning after the ILs abandon their bed and we take it over, my hair apparently tickles DH's back and in his state of sleepiness he reaches behind himself and PUNCHES ME IN THE EYE. Just in case I'm a tickling bug crawling on his back who needs a black eye.

The Vacation from Hell: Ch 2: The Excrement Slingers

2005-05-22T14:29:00.000-05:00

Last night as we prepared for a night of pain and suffering which would make us long for the sproingy springs from our first Bed From Hell, we realized that there was in fact no ceiling fan in the living room cum storage and music room cum Sleeping Chamber from Hell With Only The Faintest Illusion of Privacy Since It's Actually Right By The Front Door.

"At least we'll have a ceiling fan" had been the mantra which made the Sleeping Chamber Etc seem bearable.

At this point in The Vacation from Hell I just broke down laughing. As I told DH, it was like we were being carted along on one o' them conveyer belt thingamajiggers. Standing alongside it were groves of people with a handful or two of excrement. As we passed, they regarded us gravely, and slung handfuls of shit at us.

Splat!

The Vacation from Hell: Ch 1: Beds from Hell

2005-05-22T14:23:00.000-05:00

It's not often you come across a Bed From Hell. That is to say: it happens, sure. All of us probably have at one time or another slept on a Bed From Hell (and I use the term "sleep" lightly) but for the most part it's comfy, OK, even bearable beds for all.

So since I have had my second (and a half really, considering the only mildly successful attempt to tame the first beast by flipping the mattress) encounter with a Bed from Hell on this vacation it really feels like the whole trip is marked with these bastards, like stamps of approval from the Travel Agents from Hell.

(There's a haiku in there somewhere, but I couldn't make it work.)

This second bunion on the calloused toe of my existance was actually a Pallet of Pain consisiting of several thin blankets spread over a wanabe carpet atop the hardest slab of cement known to man.

I can honestly say it was the most uncomfortable bed I have ever slept in in my whole life. Slept, again, is a word to be used with caution.

Jingles

2005-05-01T23:41:00.000-05:00

Jingles passed away this morning.

Round midnight I checked on him. I turned and starting walking away when something made me stop. I wanted to hold him again in case it was the last time. Odd bits of intuition are not new to me, though they're not true intuition. Bit o intuition jelly without the stuffing, that's the pieces I usually get, but this time it didn't let me down.

Checked on him again round 4 AM and he was still breathing.

When I got up at eight thirty he was already cold and stiff.

Turns out that WAS the last time I got to hold the precious boy.

He was a righteous old dude and he fough the good fight, and I'm glad he doesn't have to struggle any more. He deserves to breathe without having to work at it, and run around on all four good feet again.

You can read about Fandango here.

Jingles and his brother, Sam, who passed away a short while ago, were my first two rats in adulthood. It feels like the end of an era. Four wonderful fuzzbutts are left in the cage Sam and Dango used to live in, and another cage is home to two more. Sometimes it almost feels like they're all fosters, though they've never felt that way before. It's just not REAL without Sam and Dango. They've been here since the begining.

We will just have to pick up the pieces and take awhile to get used to this new picture the puzzle, its pieces changed, removed, and added, forms.

I do, by the way, have some of the cutest damn rats ever.

Signs Your Life is Too Stressful:

2005-04-01T21:58:00.000-06:00

1. You are actually looking forward to your cleaning appointment at the dentist's office, because you won't have to do a darn thing, someone else will do the work for once, and the only whining you'll have to hear will be that of the polishing tool.

2. As your toddler hangs off your neck choking you, you wonder, if I asphyxiate right now and pass out, will that necessarily be a bad thing?

2004-12-26T22:43:00.000-06:00

I've told my family "I want to be a painter, even if I'm a bad one."

Heaven help me.

Also, check out the recent work I've done on my other website: http://ratzilla.bravehost.com/index.html

Eh? Eh? *nudge nudge*

Been watchin H&G lately

2004-09-05T19:32:00.000-05:00

Does anyone else want a house as badly as I do? Nope. Damn, I want a house. I mean, we could be paying a monthly payment equaling our rent now, once we put a deposit down! How can you beat that?

Okay, I know it's not all roses, but since we're not even close to being able to think about buying a house, let me dream, yeah?

Here's one thing that pisses me off majorely: apartment people and pets. Yeah, I know you own it. Yeah, I know it's something that will be yours for a long time and mine only to rent for awhile, but face it: I'm living there. It's my home. So why make all these inane pet rules? Because you want to be on the safe side, really on the safe side, so far on the safe side you can just barely see normalcy? No, you can't even see it? Well let me tell you, normalcy is where all your renters live, and that just ain't a good enough reason to put these kinds of controls on people.

You know what it says about you? It says you don't give a shit about your renters.

I had lots more to say (cuss) about this but I find myself getting worked up again pointlessly and I'd rather just not.

So let's focus on the good:

One day, I will own my own house, and when I feel like getting a pet, when the whole family discusses it and decides we truly want it and are ready for the commitment and can afford it, well sonofabitch we are going to get it. It won't matter a smidge what size it is, or what breed, or if it's what you call an 'exotic' (a term which, by the way, you have pulled out of your ass. Not a nice place to take things from). And the words 'pet deposit' will only come into play when we need to put a deposit down on an animal before we take it in. And 'pet rent'? Get the fuck out.

Poll Results

2004-08-13T00:44:00.000-05:00

And the winner is... I'm Going to the Potty and I'm NOT Taking You With Me!

Honorable mentions go to the second place winner, Get Your Finger Out of Your Butt!

Look for a newer flatualting poll coming soon to a blog near you.

Poor, neglected bloggy poo.

2004-08-13T00:37:00.000-05:00

I didn't forget about you, I swear. Well, at least not for the most part. That is to say, I thought about you every once in awhile but didn't feel like updating.

Hmm.

I've got a new website, did you see? Of course not. You're a blog. Well don't feel too abused, I'll be puting the link up on your link section shortly. It's just in its beginning stages now; only a few of the pages have stuff on them, and only one is done (first draft, at least).

Yes, it is sort of like having another kid and loving it better, isn't it?

Ha! I jest, lovely blog, I jest! You know how I am: short obsessions I pour everything into for a little while. But I still love you, bloggy poo. I haven't forgotten about you entirely. It's just a smidge of neglect. You'll live.

I guess I won't tell you that I would be working on my other site now if the host wasn't down temporarily for repairs...

In all seriousness, now that I've come back to update you, I'm finding you particularly addictive again. Is that cocaine you're feeding through the laptop exhaust fan? Must be.

And, the link.

2004-07-10T21:07:00.000-05:00

Here.

You people are STUPID BEYOND BELIEF

2004-07-10T20:49:00.000-05:00

Up front, let me say that if any comments come in claiming to take offense at the title, the only thing I'll be surprised about is the fact that any comments come in at all, such a rare occurance that it has yet to happen once. And I won't apologize. Because it's true.

While perusing Yahoo!'s most viewed photos (most of which were amazingly dull, for being the most viewed photos and all) I came upon a photo which was so dull that I wondered what it was doing there. Twas a picture of a ketchup bottle. Then I noticed something funny about it: The big 'W' on it, so I clicked on it to see a bigger picture.

I'm almost sorry I did.

Apparently, some freedom-fry-enjoying people were upset at the prospect of dipping their fries into ketchup connected with Kerry's wife, Teresa Heinz-Kerry. Hmm...Heinz...sound familiar? So they created a new ketchup, manufactured entirely in the US, called W. Yes, W, which they claim stands for Washington, as in George, whose picture adorns the front of the bottle.

"You don't support Democrats. Why should your ketchup?" Says the website for W ketchup.

It took me about half of the article to be able to believe it wasn't actually a farce. Had I wondered onto The Onion by accident? Sadly, no. Although by the time I got to the end, I was wavering again, when I read about another company launched last year to provide a conservative alternative food-wise, this one for ice cream. It's called Star Spangled Ice Cream. Among their flavors: "I Hate the French Vanilla (Real American Vanilla, NOT the French Vanilla)".

I hate it when people do things so stupid I can actually feel my brain shriveling up when I hear about it.

Well, there goes my first politically themed post which may cause some people to curse me. Chances are slim, as hardly anyone reads this blog, and the ones I know who do are probably in as much awe as I am. For once, I ain't gonna be politically correct. This is my place to say what I feel.

Something I never thought I'd see

2004-07-07T20:23:00.000-05:00

Rasputin's preserved penis.

I gotta say, that's one funky lookin' cock.

And a haiku for the birds.

2004-07-06T19:01:00.000-05:00

Birds have flown the coop,
ungrateful buggers. Where ya
gonna land now, huh?

The birds have flown

2004-07-06T18:57:00.000-05:00

Haven't seen them in several days now. Suspect they have all learned to fly and have gone off to bigger and better things.

What, may I ask, can be bigger and better than a dinky little birdhouse covered with possibly toxic immitation-paper, that twists around in the breeze on its string so that you have to wait for it to face you before you can fly into it, next to the "night light" that comes on every time the annoying, loud humans want to come out and smoke their foul cigarettes, often saturated by the evil deadly smoke from said cigarettes?

What, I ask you??

You know you're in love when...

2004-07-02T21:52:00.000-05:00

You're sharing a snack with your little one and just after you put the last bite into your mouth they ask for more, and you take out half your mouthful and give it to them.

(No, it wasn't apple or coffe cake. It was tuna casserole, which provides an even more interesting mental image to accompany this story.)

Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

2004-07-02T21:36:00.000-05:00

You know that line of commercials for Life cereal, the one where kids surprise you by bypassing yummy treats such as donuts and cinnamon rolls in favor of the cereal?

Well Milo just reinvented it on all how own without knowing it ever existed.

I had a piece of coffee cake that we had been snacking on, and an apple. He was requesting more, so I started to break him off a piece of the cake (I'm not a bad parent, I swear!) and he said "No! No! No! Apple!"

What an angel :)

In the interest of full disclosure, I feel obligated to mention that he had been snacking off and on on said coffee cake for awhile now, and is covered in chocolate from the chocolate chips that serve as a topping.

love sigh

2004-07-02T20:09:00.000-05:00

You know those birdies I mentioned?

Today I was reading on the couch and out of my eye I saw a movement that I knew was a bird flying, only in an odd direction--specifically, straight down to the ground, from the vague area of our birdhouse.

Could it be? I thought to myself. Have I just witnessed a baby bird taking his first plunge in the lesson of flight?

I have! I have!

Mom and Dad Bird were there, keeping watch and possibly giving instructions and encouragement. That's it, there you go! You can do it! Just flap your wings like this...no, not like...yes, there you go! Oh! Well, don't worry, you'll get it...yes, that's it!

It was hard to tell cause I can't see inside the birdhouse, and it's positioned so that they (being the quick little things they are) could fly in and out without me noticing (especially with my attention riveted to the baby bird on the ground), but I saw for certain the one baby venturing out, and two parent birds watching, and POSSIBLY one or maybe even two more baby birds waiting in the birdhouse! They were tweet tweet tweeting away and in swooped Mom (or Dad) with something in its mouth and suddenly they were TWEET!TWEET!TWEET!ing with anticipation of the tasty morsel.

Anyway, it was just a darn heartwarming thing to see.

Here is a record of the first part of New Birdie's (presumably) first flight: Birdy plumets to the ground and lands safely within the patio enclosure. Mom and Dad peer down from either side on the railings, encouraging action! Finally in a gallant spurt of energy Birdy flutters up to the top of the chair the humans had so graciously provided! From there, a skittering bumpy partial landing and take off from the rail. There was also some desperate wall clinging as Birdie learned how to grip the textured wall with its feet.

*sighhhhhhhh*

The most beautiful thing

2004-07-01T19:03:00.000-05:00

At our wedding shower, one of my husband's aunts gave us this birdhouse. It was kinda pretty, being painted all pretty blue and stuff, although the funky green shredded paper stuff on top was a little weird.

Somehow we never got around to hanging it up all these years, and finally did when we moved into our latest apartment. I had been wanting to buy some bird feed for it since it seemed kind of useless.

Apparently, the birdies think otherwise!

For awhile now, we've been watching the movements of a bird (two?) who has been flying in and out of it with what is presumably the makings of a nest in his mouth.

Today while DH and I were out there stinking up the air and poluting the little birdies' lungs, we heard a strange little peeping sound. And lo, it was coming from our own ramshackle birdhouse! Peering up, we were treated to the view of a baby mouth, wide open, poking out of the bottom hole, waiting for mommy/daddy to bring home the grub.

I don't know how many there are--so far, we have only seen one. And what a cute one it is!

As we were getting up to go back inside, Parent Bird showed back up with some sort of green bug jammed in its mouth.

Makes muh heart sing, I tell yers.

The Poll --->

2004-06-28T22:22:00.000-05:00

I just thought of another one, but it's too late to add it. Actually, I didn't just think of it, I actually said it. "You can't just go around sticking your finger in other people's noses."

You know you're in love when...

2004-06-27T21:12:00.000-05:00

You will kiss a booboo'd nose even if it means you may get snot on/in your mouth.

2004-06-26T11:29:00.000-05:00

I can't decide what to do about the titles. Are they too big and ugly, or not? I know this is completely riveting for you so I'll keep discussion to a minimum to avoid over excitement. Don't want you to start experiencing hear palpitations or anything.

On a less exciting note...

LEON GOT THE WIRELESS TO WORK! YAY!! WAHOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOO WOO WOO WOOOOOOOOO

Whoa

2004-06-24T13:59:00.000-05:00

Now that's a big bit. Back to the ol' HTML ~~torture chamber~~ think tank.

Ah ha!

2004-06-24T13:49:00.000-05:00

We have title lift off!!

2004-06-24T13:40:00.000-05:00

The strangest thought just thought itself up in my think tank.

I looked at the clock and realized it was still a couple more hours til Curves opens after lunch break, and here is the though:

"Oh darn, I really wanted to go now."

Actual disapointment.

That I can't go work out.

Sweating, grunting, out of breath, forming blisters on my hands, feeling as though my legs are about to collapse under me in fits of exhausted jello-like powerlessness.

Me.

They must pipe in some sort of addictive gas through the ventilation system.

2004-06-24T13:32:00.000-05:00

So, how do you help your wee one understand that not everything he wears is a diaper?

First we tried the pull-ups, but that was long ago before we really started working on the potty thang, and they were just pretty darn silly. I think Milo can actually take his diaper off easier than a pull-up, and they feel to him exactly the same.

Lately, potty training has been progressing with the aid of nudity. He's getting pretty good at going in the potty. What he's not getting so good at his not going out of the potty. He likes the potty, pees in it a lot, has pooped in it a couple times, and gets all excited and pleased whenever he uses it.

However, the fact that we are using the potty instead of our undies/the patio/the floor/etc is having a hard time getting through.

Most recently we picked up some of those training pants-- just like underwear, only thicker so they hold accidents in better. The problem is, Milo seems to think they're diapers.

Eventually, we are going to have to get this boy used to going potty when he's fully dressed.

2004-06-24T00:19:00.000-05:00

AH HA! SEE! THE MOTHERFUCKER WORKED DOWN THERE! THAT SPACE IS SUPPOSED TO BE A < P > WITHOUT THE SPACES, AT LEAST THAT'S WHY I TYPED, WHY IS IT WORKING HERE AND NOT THERE BLAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH *extinguished*

2004-06-24T00:17:00.000-05:00

PS. I just noticed another thing askew. Needs to be more room between the rings list and the poll. Mere question of adding space (which has not worked so far...what happened to easy lil

?) or whole hooplah of changing padding/matrix/boarder/am making up words now/no use resisting/can't...keep...fixing...typos

ajdk;atioekdafd;;;;;;;

2004-06-24T00:16:00.000-05:00

Warning: delirium is making me feel wordy...and less caring than usual about spelling mistakes.

Another Warning: It's longer than it has any right to be. I think I'll graciously allow these words to do double duty, and go add them to my blog. http://ladylady.blogspot.com in case you're intrested. Go see it!!! Only one person ever goes!!! WHO ARE YOU, MYSTERIOUS POLLER?????

Yes. I have been working (nearly) this whole time, trying to wrestle HTML into doing my evil bidding. At this point, my stomach is really pissed off at me for not eating anything, my body, finally realizing I had given some attention back to it, looked at me disgustedly and said "Yes, DUH you are TIRED moron" and my brain feels like a frothy pile of poo.

BUT my ring links are the right size! Wahoo! After much careful comparison, utilization of font viewers on Word, and brief consultation of a font website, I came to the conclusion that it was probably actually the right font, at a *slightly* different size. From there, possibilities went off into an incredible maze containing thousands of dead ends and one right answer which I reached, finally, after trying EVERYTHING ELSE I COULD THINK OF AND MORE.

Eventually, I managed to get it down to 95%.

That's right.

It was the same damn font...five percent smaller.

*stabs self in head with kitchen knife*

BUT

(what, you didn't think it was coming?)

they're ba-ack *places hands on weirdly staticky computer screen*

THE UNDERLINES ARE BACK AGAIN.

I figured out that it is yet another code buried in the original template, telling everything listed in the sidebar to be underlined. I hadn't even noticed before cause it actually looked nice, it's just when you slash it up under -s and +s and >>s and whatnot that it starts to look like crap, and you actually start noticing it. So, in order to fix the size, I had to let the underlines come back.

I may just let the mofos stay. We'll have to see how frothy the ol' brain is feeling tomorrow.

2004-06-21T22:23:00.000-05:00

A sweet toddler giggle...ah, ambrosia of the aural gods!

2004-06-21T21:24:00.000-05:00

If ice cream is wrong, I don't want to be right!

2004-06-21T11:03:00.000-05:00

Some extraordinarily mediocre haikus to commemorate the evening spent at Texas Land and Cattle restaurant last night for a Father's Day dinner, during which Milo thought he was on crack, Leon almost broke a tooth on a rock in his salad, and...what, that isn't enough? No, really, ON CRACK, the whole time. I suspect it was a delirious second wind coming from missing his nap today (which I did on purpose so that he would be tired and mellow...talk about backfiring...).

shorty switching sides
under the restaurant table
wants: binky! binky!

hyperactive Mo
what did you eat today???
free freak show for all!

jump jump jump and twist
Elvis' signature thrust
(pelvic) and... tantrum.

PS. Milo just peed off the patio again.

2004-06-18T13:19:00.000-05:00

Is it so wrong to get pleasure from a commercial?

To all you add writing people who write clever, funny, entertaining commercials, I thank thee.

After all, finding pleasure in little things is sorely undervalued these days.

2004-06-15T22:34:00.000-05:00

Mommy the Maid.

So, do you want to know what my two boys just did? Do you??

Leon, sprawled on the floor, propped up on the zebra pillow, eyes glued to the TV screen and hands glued to the Xbox remote, tells Milo that Daddy really needs a beer, will you go get one for him?

This, I believe, is his way of venting minor frustration at the knowledge that if he wants a beer, he will actually have to pause the game, get up, and get it himself. Also his passive-aggressive way of making his desires known to me so that I, his wife-maid, will go get it for him. Fortunately for him, this was the perfect excuse I needed to get up and go into the kitchen for that last donut I'd had on my mind.

Anyway, Milo hops up and takes off across the living room. He's a man on a mission. I'm thinking, poor guy, hope he doesn't freak when he gets to the fridge and remembers we've had the child lock on there for quite awhile now (the lemon juice incident was the last straw--did you know that standing in a puddle of congealing lemon juice long enough will actually cause the skin on the bottom of your foot to feel like it's TEARING OFF when you try to walk away?).

But no, he's not heading for the kitchen. Instead he makes a beeline for mom, sitting on the couch, minding her own business.

*smack smack smack* "Mommy. Daddy!" (gesturing wildly behind him at daddy) "Get! Beert!" (Yeah, that's how he says beer...and soda, for that matter [thanks, Root Beer]).

The best part was the look on his face...total indignation. On Daddy's behalf.

The second best part: Daddy almost had a tear in his eye, smiling at His Boy.

2004-06-15T22:33:00.000-05:00

hyper-active boy
red shirt, brown hair, fleeing scene
runs faster than me

2004-06-11T12:03:00.000-05:00

I can't really remember ever feeling like fainting at the sight of blood. Did I mention I'm a Law and Order fan?

That is, until the night before last. It wasn't until the crisis was mainly over-- Milo wasn't crying anymore, the bleeding had mostly stopped, I had ascertained that he had not broken his nose, probably did not have a brain tumor, and would probably not drown in his own blood after we put him to bed-- that I looked at the red blood on me and realized that this was the stuff of life flowing through my boy's body, keeping him alive. He needed that blood in him! And here it was, outside, on me!

Feeling dizzy...

2004-06-11T11:57:00.000-05:00

Milestone!!

Turd in the potty! Turd in the potty! Turd in the potty!

2004-05-31T21:24:00.000-05:00

1st: I am so bloody fucking sick of the People Game. Trying to figure out through all the subtle clues just what the hell people mean. Beyond actual deception, which I have NO patience for, even those of us who want to be faithful to ourselves and honest must filter our messages to the world. "If I don't add an exclamation mark here, they'll think I'm dowdy." What does that even mean? I have not got the patience to explain it. I don't want to edit myself, but even more I don't want to have to sift through subtleties and nuances to figure out what people really mean.

Oh and also, I'm bloody fucking sick of fearing that I'm too needy. If people think I'm too needy...so be it. I don't want to change who I am to make friends. Even if I make no friends in the process, which often seems to be the direction I'm heading in. Or already facing.

2nd: I am so bloody fucking sick of wanting to write and not doing it. I'm too scared, and what does that get me? Nothing. So what if I'm not a good writer anymore. So what if what I produce is crap. It's better than producing nothing at all. And if I'm just a shitty writer, so be it. That's okay. As long as I'm a writer. And besides, the only way to get from Shitty Writer to Less Shitty Writer is to fucking do it and do it and keep doing it. To that end, I've decided to just fucking do it. Here is a fear of jinxing it, but at this point I'm more sick of being afraid than I'm afraid of jinxing it. So, I opened up the file of my last NaNo novel, which I did not come close to finishing, and am working on it again, and I was actually really pleased by a lot of it. Much is crap, of course, and I fear even the parts I am enjoying are crap that my crap radar is not picking up, but again I'm more sick of being afraid at this point, so I'm just going to look at the parts that please me and say, These please me.

On a good note: I have created the cutest child ever. He's looking at me right now with his big adorable blue eyes and milky drool dripping from his chin. He's been "dunking for cereal" in the bowl again. Leon has tought him to say 'Go Lakers!' and 'Kobe!' and I'm teaching him how to pee in the potty. We are parents. I want another baby. That will have to wait, but goddamn do I ever love the heck out of this little Porky.

2004-05-28T21:22:00.000-05:00

thirty five inches
and sixty pounds--dear god!
just who will that be?

2004-05-28T21:08:00.000-05:00

The Health Gods have spat upon me.

The damn cold (such an innocent, minor-league word) oozed its slimy, sickly way down my throat and into my chest. I start panting just walking from one side of the room to the other. I swear I smelled sickness wafting up from me the past few days, but I believe I'm on the mend.

Breathing is still a ridiculously laborious task. Who knew so much thought might have to go into an involuntary reflex? But at least the burning pain is gone when I cough and sneeze.

Speaking of health and fitness...

I finally had my Curves apointment today! Yes, it was scary hearing all those measurements they took of my flabbous body parts. Although their scale is on my good side. I now have written down my weight and inches goals. Good lord, are there that many inches on a body. Okay, I can swallow that one, but... is it really possible to have THAT MUCH of my body percentage be fat?? How am I managing to ooze my blubbery bulk from point A to point B? For that matter, as long as I can actually see the skin and bone that is there...how can there possibly be any room left for muscle?

This is ridiculous.

Here's to hoping this is the one. As my mother has reminded me, there is no failure in the falling down, only in the not getting up again. Think about it. So true.

*Let this be it let this be it let this be it*

As soon as I can exercise with a reasonable hope of not smothering myself in my own nonfunctioning lungs, I am so there.

2004-05-04T21:32:00.000-05:00

While we're in this vein, I have a suggestion for a wonderful gift (and hey, right around Mother's Day too) for any of you moms (or dads, or parent-like figures) of moms (or dads, or any Stay at Homers).

A couple years ago for Mother's Day my own darling mother gave me this gift--a flowered card redeemable for one particularly hectic day of hair pulling when I could call her sobbing and she would come lift this most special burden from my shoulders and return him in the evening.

Ah, bliss.

I think I read the whole time. The best part was not having to consciously or subconsciously be aware 100% of the time of the little hurricane constantly swirling around the house bringing with it a wind of destruction.

Man, I love that little SOB.

2004-05-04T21:12:00.000-05:00

So, what do you do when your adorable, precious, angelic little wonder boy spends the day requesting food be shoveled into his mouth at an abnormal rate, pooping every few hours, digging said poop out of his diaper by the handful, pulling all your worldly objects from every shelf and drawer in the house and strewing them about the floor while dismantling half of them, insisting on using grunts, whines, and cries instead of his 'gentle words', regularly throwing tantrums for no (or sufficient) reason, turning the cat's scratching post into a stool, turning the cat into a pillow (evidently requiring to be fluffed aggressively), and turning you into a twitching bundle of nerves?

Add to this a husband who works half the day, then comes home and sleeps. Throw in a few minutes of me trying unsuccessfully to wake him at the requested time, add a dash of toddler jumping on the bed, and a generous pinch of husband yelling at said toddler to leave him alone. Cool, ice with husband pushing toddler out the bedroom door and closing it behind him. Garnish with me left alone to wrangle the toddler alone (once again) for the rest of the evening. You may want to utilize toothpicks to hold the layers together because this is one h*ll of an unholy sloppy mess.

Also, there is an unhealthy amount of cat tail pulling going on around here.

Can you tell what recipe this is for?

Yes, you got it. *pat pat*.

Notice how quickly "adorable, precious, angelic little wonder boy" turns into "the toddler".

2004-05-04T14:15:00.000-05:00

Poop on shorts, legs, feet.
Uh oh-- surprise on carpet.
Thought we'd got it all.

When oh when will you be potty trained, my love? I smell another stinky. I've found the next biological WMD in your diaper. Who knew a nuclear waste dumping site could fit in that cute lil wrinkly bumhole.

2004-04-17T23:32:00.000-05:00

sweet and sour sauce
you are oh so delicious
fingers now orange

2004-04-17T16:51:00.000-05:00

Maggie showed her playful side today. Suddenly my skein of yarn must have looked irresistably delicious, as I looked over and found her attempting to devour it, or at least show it who's boss. Moved by this display of friskiness, or perhaps just accidentally caught up in the claws as I attempted to disentangle her from the yarn, I engaged her in a little look-my-hand's-a-clever-little-mouse! game and experienced that peculiarly delightful feeling of feline claws and teeth mercilessly tearing into my skin. Ah, I'm in love!

2004-04-17T16:47:00.000-05:00

email addiction
come on come on give me more!
damn 'disconnecting'

LadyLady

Musical Monday

I Feel So Dirty

Dear Bikers Doing 70 on the Toll Road

Wordless Wednesday

MOM! YOU HAVE GOT TO COME SEE THIS!

Happy Mother's Day to Me

Don't Say I Never Gave You Nothin'

In Which I Defy Genetics

Those Boogers Better Be Solid Gold

It Has Healing Properties, You Know

If you have the chance to use Northown MUD or Southwest Water Company

Tired of Taking It Up the Ass

You MAY Be Going to Hell...

Someone's Getting Lucky Tonight

You Are Going to Hell...

Warning, Warning

On The Threads That Bind Us

Brain/Body Disconnect

Don't Divorce Us

FYI

The Threads That Bind Us

When your wife says...

Why You Ungrateful Little...

Would you look at that!

Ring Around The Destination

Bad Mom

Hostess Crack Cakes

ARRRRGH!

Why, Blue, Why?

Smokeku

Splat!

The Vacation from Hell: Ch 2: The Excrement Slingers

The Vacation from Hell: Ch 1: Beds from Hell

Jingles

Signs Your Life is Too Stressful:

Been watchin H&G lately

Poll Results

Poor, neglected bloggy poo.

And, the link.

You people are STUPID BEYOND BELIEF

Something I never thought I'd see

And a haiku for the birds.

The birds have flown

You know you're in love when...

Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

*love sigh*

The most beautiful thing

The Poll --->

You know you're in love when...

Whoa

Ah ha!

love sigh