Sticks and Stones

I was called a ball of fire today.

That has always irked me to no end. Fircracker, spitfire, ball of fire – they are all the same. When I was a baby, my parents were worried that the large Collie dog we had would bully me or some way hurt me as I was crawling around the house. My father told the story of how one day he came home from work to find the dog up against the wall behind me as I was eating his food from the bowl. I was probably about eight months old, and from then on my father called me Fat Cat.

The New York Times defines Fat Cat as people who are able to "buy access, influence policy and even veto appointments." Really Dad? Thanks! He meant it as a term of endearment, since he said after that day he knew I could get whatever I wanted out of life. I think I was just hungry. Good thing I didn’t try to drink from the toilet. No telling where I would have ended up in life.

I heard people tell my parents that I sure was “a ball of fire”, or “one that will keep you on your toes”. I have been called similar things at work by people who meant it as a compliment. Once I was in a meeting where I had to draw a line about what money rightfully belonged to the museum. As I was leaving I heard someone say, “Lord, I feel for her husband”. I kept a smile on my face and told jokes while I was putting my foot down, so I don’t know if that remark was an insult or not. I think he just really felt sorry for my husband and having to deal with my spirited ass all the time.

It is odd how people perceive you. I feel like a shy person who has self doubt. That’s a far cry from a fire cracker.

A few years ago a person with whom I was battling over some museum property called me a cold hearted bitch. Oddly enough that rolled off my back. Another time a man was trying to intimidate me into backing down over a building dispute. Even though he was bigger than the Jolly Green Giant and uglier than sin, I still stood my ground. When he was spouting off at the mouth I put my hands on my hips and smiled sweetly as I said, “Bring it.” He changed his tune and left with a much better attitude.

I am sure people mean it in a good way, but it still troubles me. Does anyone else really give a shit? No.

People have a perception of you which can be very different than what you feel inside. While I still cannot stand the phrase “ball o fire”, I need to learn to take it as a compliment. We all should push that dog against the wall, channel our inner Miss Piggy, and light a fire.

Picture Perfect

I was looking through my pictures and realized that I never add pictures to my blog. A picture really says a thousand words. Then I tried to upload these damn things to this blog and have since given tech support a piece of my mind. easy uploader my ass.

It's not white trash if you only do it on holidays.

"My personal tragedy will not affect my ability to do good hair." Why I don't fix my daughter's hair. And why I am not the best wife by the looks of that trashcan in the background.

"I will beat you like the ugly dog you are if you chew up these shoes like you did those green ones. Yes I will. I will beat you."

"I'll go shit on the carpet instead. No biggie"

You think your life is a crazy three ring circus? I have a small stuffed lamb named Weasely that goes with us everywhere. Weasely likes to photobomb. Top that.

What's funnier? The back of the car in front of me? or the amazing amount of crap on my dashboard? You be the judge.

Please let this be exhibit A in my insanity hearing.

Obviously our cat has discovered "the other white meat"

Kid free weekend Betty Ford Style. I AM JOKING!

Sadly how I go through most of my life.

You are born with class. It cannot be acquired.

DITTO

weighing in

I am once again working harder on my weight loss.

I should really say that I will quit eating crap while pretending to work on my weight loss. When you sustain yourself on a diet of beer and oysters for 4 days on a trip, your weight tends to reflect it when you get home.

Weight Watchers is the best program I have ever used, and I can tell you the approximate point value of any food on the planet. I know that lots of things are zero points, like individual jello servings, and air. What makes it easier is when you have someone else doing the program with you. Not so great though when they get more points than you do on any given day.

“Oh, you still have 20 points left for the day? That’s nice. I am at zero points left for the day so I’m going to eat 15 jello servings and run my tongue down in the plastic container in order to get every single ounce left in there. Then I will take half a Tylenol PM in order to make me sleep so I can finally quit thinking about eating. “

Writing this I come to the realization I am like a tiger that has to be shot with a tranquilizer gun in order to stop attacking prey - Although my prey is Ben and Jerry’s ice cream and not a wildebeest. Same difference.

While attempting to make my diet tea at the office this morning, I notice the water cooler has slowed down to a trickle. I decide I can take matters into my own hands and change out the water. While I am dragging the large and hefty water barrel across the carpeted room in my high heels and dress pants, I hear a rip. I just split my pants? To God, my maker, my leader and listener in troubled times, I can only say – “Really Dude? It’s Monday!”

Thank goodness no one was around when I put my head between my legs in a yoga move in order to survey the damage. Nothing says “leadership” from a boss like putting yourself into a pretzel in order to look at your own ass. The hole is rather small, which is good considering I don’t have time to go home and change. I can just cover the hole by carrying my oversized purse in a certain way when I walk. Instead of people seeing the hole I ripped, they will just assume I have sharted in my white pants from the Gap. PROBLEM SOLVED.

Why

I’ve got less than 10 weeks until my 70.3 mile race, I am training like a fool every day. That means I am sore, dehydrated half the time, and overanalyzing all aspects of my life while logging 150 miles a week. Here are a few of the questions I ask myself while swimming, biking, and running.

Why does my cat kill birds? More so, why does my DECLAWED cat kill birds and eat them in the back yard. I guess the real question is how? Does she bitch slap them to death? Just badger them so long they have a heart attack? Drive them to drink? You have to admit, that’s pretty impressive for a cat with no claws.

How did my dog throw out his back? He is a pug who sleeps all day. It’s not like he does manual labor. He was probably jacking with that cat.

Why can’t men read minds? Can they not tell that “I’m Fine” means you are an asshole and everything you say after this will only piss me off more. When we are mad and push you away it means we really want more attention! Geez! It’s not rocket science!!!!

Why did I hook my phone up to the IPod speaker this morning and then look for my phone for 20 minutes WHILE listening to the music?

Why do people who obviously do not exercise fell the overwhelming need to give me tons of unsolicited advice about my exercising. I know these people have not run since they were on a playground, but I really think I’ve got it handled.

Why is it so damn hot? Follow me here… I do not allow my children to say the word Hate. Not even in general terms. We are very strict about how they can express perceptions about other people and the world around them. Words are meaningful. They carry. I try to set a good example for them. When Mary Margaret said, “It’s hotter than HELL” the other day I just couldn’t get on to her. She was right.

Why does the dumpster guy at work jack with us so bad? Probably because the maintenance guy jacks with him. It’s been a battle for years over where that dumpster is placed behind the museum. We have fire codes with the alley it sits in, but I think the guy just loves to move it around to get a reaction. It’s been placed facing the building so it won’t open. Leaned up against the corner. Yesterday it was smack assed in the middle of the alley. I think I’ll put the cat in that dumpster and see what happens to him after he jacks with her!

Why does my husband call when we are going out of town to tell me he is ready and waiting? He is. And I gotta go.

Thanks for reading! Hope you feel better about yourself! I do. Because I am BLOWING THIS POPSICLE STAND!

River Cities Tri

1. It was suggested I not smoke while here at the Triathlon.

2. I brought lip gloss. It’s for the gator when he puts you in a death roll. You’ll look nice when Vickers comes to pick you up.

3. I plan on doing most of the swim on my back, just like I’ve floated through the rest of my life…

4. Sorry I can’t come to watch you in this triathlon thing. My Grandma’s outta Scotch and I have to deliver her a case. Sorry.

5. Rolling hills my ass.

6. You paid to do this? Have you gone completely batshit crazy?

7. Some men plum smuggle better than others I have noticed.

8. Does she have a bike in that Mini Car? Is it like some tent she throws out on the ground and it puts itself together? OMG LOOK! She is pulling bike parts out of that car. Like a damn assassin! I bet she can put that thing together with her eyes closed. Mrs. MacGyver!!!

9. You paid what for that bike? You have gone batshit crazy!

10. Next time I come to one of these things I’m gonna be more prepared. You will see a whole new me. Do the race? Oh hell no. I’m bringing a chair, fan, and a full icechest. Do the race…That’s funny.

11. I am so nasty after swimming in that mess. Andy Dufrane was cleaner when he escaped from Shawshank Prison.

It all makes sense

It all makes perfect sense now. After spending two weeks with my in laws, certain things about my husband are much clearer now. Why he says and does certain things and why he is the way he is.

Example 1 – While walking in Rome…

In Laws: “Do you think we should take this street to the Pantheon or go down one more?”
Me: “It’s this street I’m sure.”
In Laws: “No. No. We go down one more.”

A few minutes later…

Me: “That’s the back of the Pantheon. We are close!”
In Laws: “no.”

After we walk around the front…

In Laws: “That was the back of the Pantheon!”
Me: “I’m about to beat you both with this map.”


Why ask a question if you will not listen to the answer! Hubs does that all the time and it drives me nuts! We all have little things we do and say that we are not so proud of. I know they were ready to sacrifice me to the lions at some point in Rome, but everyone has their own quirks.

And we pass them on to our children.

My son feels he is all knowing. I have a very clear knowledge of why he feels that way. When I was little I had Weeble Wobble toys. I had the whole stinkin’ family of Webble Wobbles. One year I even got the Weeble Wobble Camper for Christmas! I snuck them into church, rode them around in the grocery cart, and played with them nonstop. What bothered me was the commercial claiming they would never fall down. I called BULLSHIT on that one and proceeded to put my Webble Wobble family through the ringer. I subjected them to a series of tests and experiments which no plastic toys should have to endure. They were lined up on the patio and sprayed with the water hose. Even though I knocked them down over and over again, they still managed to spring back up. The final test was when I secured the family down to the carpet in my room with duct tape. I made myself a little chart and checked off the box everytime I made an observation. I would check to see how long they had been taped down, go jack around outside, and then see if they were still on their backs. When I finally removed the tape, they slowly but surely teetered back to an upright position. I was wrong. I was pissed. I was five years old.

My youngest daughter is extremely shy around people she does not know. She refuses to speak when strangers in public places even though the strangers are my friends. Even at school she barely spoke in the beginning. My close friends tell me my first impression sucks. I’m too quiet and it comes off bitchy.

One morning back in 1979 after the school bus left our house my mother looked at me and asked, “What are you still doing here?” Signing me up for kindergarten was on her to do list, but with 4 kids from college age down all the way to me it got pushed to the back burner. I do not think it was any coincidence my kindergarten was 0.5 miles from our house. I think it was the first one she came to and immediately enrolled my in the program at the Church of God. For the first two weeks I didn’t speak a word. I remember hearing the teachers whisper about me. They were wondering if I had a problem. Finally one day we all had our little books in front of us and the teacher asked if anyone could read the first word. I raised my hand and proceeded to read the entire book out loud to the class. That was the end of the teacher to teacher whispers.

My sweet little shy angel of a last child experienced carpool for the first time two years ago. I knew she was in good hands and all the other neighborhood kids were great. She did not agree. One of them evidently gave her a little lip and she threw her shoe at them across the Expedition.

Summerpurse Junior. I am so proud.

thank you for reading my posts, and I hope you feel a little better about yourself