Deep Thoughts...

Since I am going on a short trip tomorrow and I have a gaggle of stressful things hanging over me at work, I have not been able to blog. Seeing as I do not get paid to blog, it seems the mature decision. Instead I thought I would just share the random thoughts that go through my head while at home, work, and in between. They are random. They are meaningless. They are literally the diary of a busy mess.

1. I will run three miles this morning. There was a twinkie in the pantry. I think I will run five. I really want that twinkie.
2. Why does this dog pull my towel off the rack every morning and then lay his little dog body all over it while I’m in the shower? Also, why does he look at me like I am evil when I make him move off the towel?
3. Is that poop or an Ewok on the carpet? Oh, it’s an Ewok. It’s cool.
4. My yard looks like shit.
5. Good. The maintenance dude put visqueen over the broken window at the main museum. The slogan should be “Visqueen – helping broke people make it to the first of the month since 1954”. It has many uses. Add a red sharpie and you got yourself a tail light!!!
6. This is a damn good twinkie.
7. I am telling a small lie while on my lunch break. I know people tell the same lie every day to this same office but it tears me up inside. When I get to the counter I am sweating, red in the face, and not able to look the lady in the eye. If the Spanish Inquisition ever comes to town, I am screwed.
8. I will not order fries with lunch. I will not order fries with lunch. “I’ll have the fruit”. Whew! Made it through that one.
9. I can’t wait to pick up the kids from school. I love my kids. I love my job. (Insert an ongoing cycle of guilt)
10. What age do you have to be to pull this off? This dude can walk into the Country Club buffet half lit and no one in the packed dining room says a word. I understand he is 80, but geez. If I did that they would all simultaneously whisper, “Alcoholic” I wonder if people are still talking about the time we were at Phantom Ball out here? That fundraiser I came to right after weaning my youngest and had a few drinks then threw up in the bushes.
Yeah, they’re still talking about that.

Sarah, Levi, and Me

Would all of my friends vote for me if I ran for public office? Probably not.
Do I vote for Sarah Palin? No. Let me explain myself -

I love Sarah. If I lived in her hometown I bet we would run together and be good friends. I understand about changing jobs and education while you have children. I also understand how hard it is to see your children being hurt.

I happen to not agree with her politics. I do not think that her beliefs about government make her a bad person, and I wonder why some people want to crucify other humans for differing beliefs. I have many buddies who believe the exact opposite of what I believe. Last November we told our best friends to hurry up and get in line to cancel out our votes as the courthouse was crowded. Sometimes politics are some of the most important ideals in your life. Sometimes they are the least.

Many of you read these blogs because they make you laugh, and I'm glad I can put a giggle in your day. Would you all vote for me? Probably not. I admire Sarah for her spunk and wit. She kind of reminds me of Jane Fonda in that way. It is a "Bring it On" attitude that I love in women.

Then there it that idiod Levi. What an ass. No one should attack a family in private in order to advance a selfish agenda. This loser does it in public and in the media just so he can promote himself. The worst for me was the fake engagement. Did he really put her in a spot where Bristol thought he was in love with her only to break her heart? I know the words, "but mom I know he loves me" were said in the Palin house. Of course mom probably knew what was going to happen. She also knew how bad it would hurt her daughter. I am sure she feels guilty about working and being in the spotlightt, and I am sure wonders if some of this is her fault. We are mothers. Guilt is just part of the ride.

When Sarah asks me for her vote, I say no. If she ever asks me to help put Levi in his place, I'm all in on that one.

Sarah - Remember the movie 9 to 5? Watch it. I call dibs on Dolly Parton. I own that one. You can have Jane.

Nakedness

My oldest daughter is now demanding that no one see her while she is changing clothes. I know she is growing up, but it seems a little odd to me. She went through a phase when she was two where she wanted to be naked all the time, including when I would answer the door of our house. The other kids are the same way. My son once showed his wee wee to the little girl next door – for no apparent reason. My youngest would kick her panties off and then scream, “I NAKED!”

They come by it honestly. I am a big fan of naked. My husband used to ask me what I wanted to do on a given night or weekend. My reply was always, “Get naked”. He eventually quit asking, but I do kick off my panties and scream, “I NAKED” on occasion.

On our honeymoon we stayed at a resort which had an optional nude beach. The resort also had weddings. Common sense would tell you the two should not go together. Evidently someone did not get that memo as there was a naked wedding while we were on our vacation. The entire wedding party (including the parents) wore nothing but a smile. To top it all off, these dumb sons a bitches took pictures. FAMILY pictures.

Too much of a good thing? I vote yes.

We all have certain experiences with nakedness which we would rather forget. Partial nakedness can be traumatic as well. I run down State Line Avenue quite often as it is a large road with good sidewalks. Many mornings I am the only person on those sidewalks, but there are a few homeless people walking up and down the street. On one such morning I was doing my usual run when I saw a homeless man coming toward me on the sidewalk. I had seen him many times before and we always wave as we pass. He was wearing his usual t-shirt and extremely large shorts held up by a belt. He is oblivious to the fact that his shorts are unzipped. Evidently he had also forgotten to add underwear to his ensemble. For those of you who have a hard time following along – this dude’s dick is in plain view and it is coming my way. My thoughts were as follows:

1. Well there is one mystery solved. It does all turn grey.
2. EEEEWWWWW.
3. Do not look it in the eye.

We passed each other on the sidewalk with no issues. I felt so embarrassed for him. I understand how it feels to humiliate yourself in public. But then I realized that guy doesn’t give a rats flying fat ass if he was partially naked. He eats out of dumpsters and craps in a ditch by the graveyard. He has bigger fish to fry. We all do. It is just nakedness.

Thank you for reading my post. I hope you feel a little better about yourself.

The Tired Diver

Wanted to give a few highlights from our trip to St. George for two weeks.

We are from Arkansas – When we load up a car, we load up a car. We had the suburban packed to the gills, a car topper on the roof, a canoe on a trailer in the back, a kayak tied on top of the canoe, assorted bikes and other large items crammed in between the canoe and kayak, and my husband’s large fishing cart strapped onto the top of the car in front of the carrier. Not exactly aerodynamic. I am sure dogs started barking three minutes before we entered into each town because of the loud whistling noise that fishing cart made. We have a Razorback on the front of our car which identifies us as Arkansans. As if people would not have gathered that by looking at the Grapes of Wrath getup we were driving. We need no introduction.

Tired diver – Hubs and I wanted to learn to dive on this trip. After completing our classroom work, we spent an afternoon in the pool going over emergency drills. Some of the drills were about what to do if you run out of air underwater and how to rescue a tired diver. That meant I had to pull (drag) my 200+ pound husband in full scuba gear across the length of the pool. At one point I yelled at him and told him he was supposed to be a tired diver, not a BITCHY one. I added I was doing my best and if he didn’t like it I would let his ass drown next time. That poor instructor.

I know this is hard to believe, but I had a hard time standing up underwater. The book said diving was about taking in the underwater landscape and to be careful not to disturb the ocean floor. I stirred up silt and shit everywhere I went. I would trip over my fins, start floating off in the middle of a drill, or not be able to control where I went next. The instructor kept telling me to establish neutral buoyancy and to control my movements so I could glide through the water. I told him to not hold his breath. Evidently awkwardness translates easily in the water as well.

Shortcut – My husband, in his infinite wisdom, chose a shortcut to get us home from our diving lesson. He feels he can sniff out a good shortcut and thinks he is James Bond with his phone GPS.

Chad: Boy there is not a lick of traffic on this shortcut I found!
Me: That’s because it’s a damn dirt road! Not even gravel, just DIRT! People don’t usually take a logging road to work!

That makes up for the time when my shortcut around Nashville abruptly ended when the road ended. It took us 2 hours to loop back around. Evidently construction was not finished, but it looked good on the map…


Scallops – This was the highlight of our trip. We took a boat out to a shallow area where the scallops like to grow, and the captain described to us what we were looking for. He gave each of us a bag to fill. It takes all of us a little time to find the scallops, except for my father in law. He had a full bag in about fifteen minutes…of the wrong thing. I don’t know what he had in the bag but they were probably some endangered species of which there are only 100 left, and he had 99 in a bag ready to fry.

I snorkeled for two hours picking each one of these scallops out of the water and putting them in my bag. I even held the top of my bag closed so I could be sure none of them escaped. My husband grabbed my bag as soon as we started climbing back onboard so I could take off my fins and not fall down. This ain’t his first rodeo. I noticed that every time he would move my bag a couple of scallops would fall out. Why? Because there was a big hole in the bottom of my bag! Of course there was a hole in the bottom of my bag. Is there a one armed man around here too? I can just see the line of scallops escaping out of my bag… No wonder I was finding them so easily, they were the ones that had just escaped from my bag. I probably caught the same 30 all day long.

As always, thank you for reading my post, and I hope this makes you feel a little better about yourself.

10 reasons why Lindsey Lohan obviously did not grow up in my house

1. I grew up the youngest of four girls in Mississippi. While most girls in that part of the country were treated with kids gloves and commonly referred to as princesses, we were not.

2. Once when I was about eight my father told me to clean the kitchen and then sweep and mop the floor. I heard other kids at school talking about how they got paid to do chores around the house and they bargained to get more money. I made an attempt to drive up my wages with my father and he obliged me for a short time. He then made the remark that not getting my ass beat was payment enough. Well then, let me get that broom! My mother was out of town this particular night. If she had overheard that remark she would have beat his ass.

3. A yard service was never a luxury we encountered. My sisters and I can all mow a 3 acre yard, weed eat, edge, and remove every last blade of grass and or dirt from the front sidewalk. Never ever leave anything on that side walk or get off track on your edging. That meant we ALL had to do it over again. I don’t think dear Lindsey has ever shoveled gravel out of the back of a pick up truck either.

4. Lindsey has never been threatened with bodily harm in Kroger for not behaving.
5. Cornbread and milk. What I’m talking about here is consistency. Every Saturday night in my house was the same thing. Steak, baked potato, pear and cheese salad, and then top it all off with cornbread and milk while watching Dukes of Hazard. It wasn’t clubbing with Mom until wee hours of the morning, but it was a routine.
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6. Lindsey has never been sent to cut the okra off of the stalks because she was the shortest kid.
7. Couture was not in my Kindergarten. When I turned five I was allowed to pick out the fabric for a new dress. My mother made the dress just in time for my Kindergarten Graduation and my birthday party. She sewed in Five, yes count them FIVE, jingle bells in my slip. I know I wore my Sunday School teachers nerves to a frazzle. I know that because I distinctly remember shaking my ass nonstop for the entire thirty minutes just so I could hear all those jingles.
8. Obviously no curfew. I was told curfew was 11:00. Not 11:01 and sure as Hell not 11:05. I once replied that it sure as shit wasn’t 10:55. I really missed my car for a month after that remark.
9. This one doesn’t really apply to Lindsey, but just a FYI. When you are kissing your boyfriend goodnight at the front door, don’t push him up against the doorbell by mistake and wake up your parents because they think something is wrong and make them both run to the front door. It’s just awkward for all involved.
10. Pot roast. Every Sunday was Sunday School, (“Melanie Ann you better get up and get ready because no one needs the Lord more than you.”) Church, and then pot roast for lunch. I guess she just never had that direction instilled in her to make her see what she needed out of life. All it takes is a little structure, love, and some carrots and potatoes. Please not that my father never went to church with us because he said he liked to worship in his own way. Every Sunday he would “watch the roast”. What I really think he was doing was reading the paper in his tighty whiteys while all the women were out of the house.

Lindsey has made the remark that no one understands how hard it is to live the Hollywood life and always have people make comments about you behind your back. She says the audition process is horrible because it causes extreme stress when you know that people do not choose you for certain reasons.

Evidently she has never been through RUSH.

This Kappa Delta thanks you for reading her blog. I hope you feel better about yourself. At least you aren’t headed to jail.

The Date

I hope I never have to date again. I was never very good at it to begin with, and I am too blunt to play games. All of that makes me think of a date I had at the tender age of 18 that I still remember with great detail.

My friends and I got invited to go on a float trip with a group of guys on the Mulberry River. Let me just explain this river to you. The water is high, the current is fast, and the temperature is slightly above freezing. When we arrived to rent our canoes, my friends told me I needed to ride with Bobby. They all had this odd smirk on their faces.

I would later recognize this face while vacationing in my later life. It is the look the stable manager gives you when he selects the horse you will ride on your leisurely trail ride in the mountains. “Here ya go ma’am. This is Seabisuit.”

Bobby was cute. Bobby seemed nice. Bobby smoked a huge joint the minute we got on the river.

I am not talking about a little blunt, or a small bud, or even a one hitter. This thing was so big it looked like it should have had a taco bell wrapper around it. I had my little ice chest with a few beers and a small bottle of Jim Beam in my dry bag. The seal on the brown bottle was broken about two minutes after Bobby fired up his soft taco. I knew this was going to be a long day.

No sooner do I open the dry bag until we hit our first bump in the road. We literally hit a bump because Bobby was so preoccupied with being higher than a cat’s ass that he forgot to look ahead. We flipped the canoe and all of my belongings were lost, including my dry bag. My Miller Lites and Marlboros were headed to the Gulf of Mexico before I could reach them.

The next four hours consisted of Bobby constantly tipping the canoe. For those of you who do not know, tipping means spilling out everything in the canoe (including your date) into the water because you don’t know how to steer a damn boat. Bobby did not know how to steer a canoe nor did he know how to just ride in the front of a canoe after I made him switch places with me. We still flipped over again and again because Bobby thought he was walking around in his living room instead of a canoe. I barely said a word the entire time we were on the river.

I was sopping wet, worn out, and stone cold sober. When we finally arrived at our pull out place, I drug the canoe out of the water and threw my paddle and life jacket on the ground. I turned to my date and said, “F*^# You Bobby. F*^# You.”

He never called again.


Thank you for reading and I hope you feel a little better about yourself.

Plan B

We had plan B all weekend at the lake. The boat was still in the shop. Our friend’s boat was still in the shop. Did we sit back and whine about how horrible life was? No. But it did make me think about all the plan B’s I have dealt with in my life.

People disappoint you. Jobs disappoint you. Children disappoint you. We all have choices to make in our lives, and sometimes choices get made for you. Remember when you were a teenager and you thought your life would be perfect by the time you reached a certain age? I always thought 29 would be my best year. I would perhaps be married, but definitely successful in my career and no children. Instead love knocked me for a loop when I was twenty and changed all my plans. My new plan was no plan. Just be happy in love. After I fought the idea of love and love won, it worked.

I thought this summer would be different in my life. I thought certain things would happen, but they just didn’t. Something may be the epicenter of your life, but a minor detail in someone else’s. It is easy to say “pull up your boot straps and dig in harder” when you are standing on the outside. The phrase “Give it to God” gets tossed around frequently in my head, but never seems to stick.

I have always felt that God gave me the strength and resources to deal with whatever life throws at me. That would be wonderful if I ever processed what life threw at me. I let it seep down deep inside me and fester. I feel I should work harder in order to make things perfect and not be weak.

I have known ever since I was a little girl in my blue and white lacey dress in Sunday school that God loved me. Should my plan B be to stop trying to be perfect and not allowing my life to fester? Surely not. No.

Obviously I am still in the fighting mode.

Shortly before I turned 29 I found out I was pregnant with my third child. I had so many plans for the summer and none of them included being pregnant. So much so I did not have any maternity insurance, which was a necessity at the time. I was worried the entire pregnancy about money, guilt, and not loving the baby once it got here. I prayed that God would allow me to be a good mother to all of my children. I also prayed this last child would weigh 24 pounds since I gained 70.

I instantly fell in love with all seven pounds and two ounces of her. A few days later she was lying in the bed between my husband and I. He made the remark that God meant for her to be here all along. We were waiting our whole lives for her to arrive. All of it may have been my plan B, but always God’s plan A.

After I fought the idea of love and love won, it worked.