Thursday, June 28, 2007

:( :o)

Well, I got through the graduation party and will have pictures to follow soon. I am still working off an old computer and scanning is a bit of a challenge.

It turned out just fine, even thought the day started with a flat tire, car switch and then running out of gas in town....typical day for me, really. After cooking non-stop for four days, I went on strike in the kitchen. Leftovers, Sunday and Monday, order out Tuesday and a lame attempt of cooking for Wednesday....angel hair pasta that cooks in 6 minutes and a jar of Prego.

Cassie has been excruciatingly difficult the last few days and I totally blame her for me forgetting to put the afternoon blood draws in the pick-up box before leaving work..cause, damn, she is stressing me out. It is getting so bad, I fear I will leave for work without everything I need, like pants or brain is on overload.

Naturally, when things get tough, Bob makes 'em tougher and the nicest thing I have said to him all week was "I hope you will be happy with your next wife". I think that was extremely thoughtful of me. I'm just not sure he caught that after, "go straight to hell, asshole"...but I meant it, sincerely.

My parents took Brooke and Cassie for the day. I never thought I would say or type those words ever. They went to Pittsburgh and I am alone in my house. ALL ALONE. IN MY HOUSE. TEEEEE HEE HEE HEE!!!

I am going to shampoo my carpets and then watch them dry without anyone walking on them and catch up on laundry. I do live a life of excitement!

Time to get busy.......that is a lot of fun to pack into one day

Wednesday, June 13, 2007


I used to have this recurring dream about being somewhere, like a concert or a Wal-mart and it turns into my class reunion, and I have no idea it will turn into my class reunion so I am totally not dressed right and I generally just look like shit and it is all stressful and junk.

I had it again last night. I was in some sort of very large, public, multi-toilet bathroom attempting to pee and when I walked to the sink....WAH LAH, my class reunion! B, my friend was standing there in some "walk like an Egyptian" dress and her hair was glittery silver and she had on sandals that strung around her ankles several times. I start seeing all these random people from high school, but I cannot remember there names, for real. Then I glance in the mirror and there I stand with no make-up, messy uncombed hair and some weird, nerdy outfit on. It was a long jean shirt, past my knees, and a blue t-shirt. Over this I have on a jean jacket thingy that is almost as long as my shirt.

I look and my boobs are enormous, but I look really chubby...but my boobs were enormous!! Did I already mention that? Anyway, I decide to walk out of this bathroom, to escape this hell, to go buy something to wear, go back home, clean up and return, but when I walk out I am in a giant reception hall and people from high school are coming up to talk to me! I am trapped. I think about what I look like and what I have on and what the hell am I gonna do?? So, I do the only thing I can, act like a hippie type, cause I want to look this way, make-up and actual hair-dos are so 1980s and you make me feel, you make me feel, you make me feel like a natural woman.... and then puff out my chest and work the boobs, cause that's all I really have to work with here.

I feel like I am really doing well, making the best of this thing and then I pass by a dance floor and there is a mirror and I see myself again and OMG!! I look even worse!! The horror wakes me up.

I am not sure why rough times always take me back to high school, but on the other hand it is so text book psychology.....not good enough, never prepared and my sis used to act like I had the biggest, ickiest boobs ever even though they were never so big and my mom used to buy Jane Russell 18 hour double d's for me that my b cups could not even fill out a quarter of the way, and when your sister endlessly talks about being a size 3, but you are a 9 and so all fits! I think it always made me feel like they saw me so differently than I really was, both physically and mentally and BLAH..I hate that dream!

I am not even sure why I am in a rough time. Well, I can think of a few reasons, but the money issue is mostly under control. Of course, the money issue creates a mighty good distraction from all the other things that could have been on my mind... and that are now on my mind since I cannot worry about being late on this payment or that one. Ugh, I get so tired of me.

In my daily, awake life I have dealt with the issues of the past, cause we all have them and they all suck..but move on already. Maybe I really haven't if they creep back to me at night, though. Maybe I think too much and wish I didn't.

Back to 2007, I need a new distraction. A good one. Maybe the days it will take me to think of a good one will work for now. You gotta start somewhere....

Sunday, June 10, 2007

From the Sober, To the Drunk

Working at the family bar on Saturdays have taught me so much about the process of getting drunk. There is nowhere so perfect to study the effects of alcohol and how each person uniquely changes with every passing drinking hour. I watch with amazement how predictably each person's behavior unfolds.

They shall remain nameless, of course, but we have the a women that starts friendly, gets friendlier, starts hugging people...I mean, real heartfelt, long, lingering hugs...then starts hanging on guys. She starts with average guys and then, as the clock is approaching 2a.m., her beer goggles tightly in place, she has been known to move on to the scary guy. She is often seen crying and holding herself up on someone and sometimes she starts making out with a scary guy.

We have drunken tourettes guy. With each passing substance, he gets louder and starts making less and less sense. He shouts things out randomly and, to those not used to his drunk/high state, he seems unstable and frightening. I know he is harmless and I enjoy watching others watch him, mostly in terror.

We have a jolly drunk. He says little, but smiles more and more as the night goes on. He is just happy to be there and is very low maintenance. He just wants a steady flow of buds coming his way, will chat when spoken to very cheerfully and then go back to just being happy to be there again. Bothers no one, a bartender's dream.

We have a young guy that everyone seems to dislike, but at the same time, everyone seems to have an urge to take care of when he stammers about. He becomes like an ornery child of three. He grabs people's money, he will take a fry off your plate, he walks into the restroom and as the door opens with other pee'ers entering, he is still in there, looking confused. Someone usually has to fetch him or he would stay there for hours, uncertain of where he is and why.

We have the loners. People that show up, don't seem to know anyone, have a beer or two, laugh at the crowd as though they wish to be a part of it, lack the guts to really do anything about it and then move on.

We have the dancing drunks. The ones that come in determined to relive some moment of their past with songs from their day, dancing and shouting out to others as they sing loud and try to get everyone else involved. They dance for hours on end, usually with the aid of several jaegar bombs for fuel. Some dancers just dance for themselves and are in their own little world having the time of their life.

We have the neighborhood people, that need not drive home, so they work really hard at making it almost impossible to even walk. Often, you can find them face down on the bar, asleep. Once awakened, it is like they are in some game of pin the tail on the donkey, as if freshly spun and spun with a blindfold on, you point them towards the door and they crash into tables, walls and bar stools anyway. You want to drive them the block home, but fear you will never get them out of your you just get 'em out the door and hope for the best.

We have the younger crowd trying to be cooler and dance more trendy than the older crowd, but lose cause they are in a bar ruled by the 40 year olds, making the young ones just uncool for even showing up.

We have the drunk spenders, the more they drink, the more they want to buy shots for ten of their new, closest best friends and they start tipping too much. Me likey them.

We have the good ol' boys from the hood that pretty much run the place and act like they are still the shit with their high fives and loud glory day stories. The same ones, over and over and over and who the hell cares? They usually come with their hens that sit and make ugly faces of "who is that slut" when a young, pretty girl walks in and they decide that her belly is sort of big, or that she is a stripper, a tramp, a skank, or some shit like that. I like to egg it on when they ask, all mean and scrunchy faced, "Who is THAT?" and I reply, "I don't know, isn't she pretty???" MUH HAHA!!!

We have the pains in the ass that want served immediately, no matter how many people are waiting, cause they are part of the good 'ol boys and feel entitled, but never leave a tip, so as loud as they shout my name and no matter how disgusted the tone becomes in their shouts, sometimes, well, the music was so loud, and I just didn't hear ya.

For all the flaws and annoyances, I still like just about every person that walks in and some people I am just happy to see because they are all of these things or none of them at all, but they always make the night an experience.

By 1am, I feel like I am the mom of 75 unruly kids and I just want them to go to bed already. At 2am we have the same ones that just don't get the word quit and hang around and and hang around until I play the song "Closing Time" and shout the lyrics, "Closing time - one last call for alcohol, so finish your whiskey or beer. Closing time - you don't have to go home but you CAN'T STAY HERE!!!!!!" That usually does the trick, except for the ones that believe I am talking to the other idiots in the bar and not "them". News flash! I mean YOU and I am not your sweetie, baby, honey or even a remote possibility for you. Buh-bye.

As much fun as it has all been, I feel the time to pass the baton to another family member or trusted person is coming very soon. I miss being the shouting, dancing, hugging, glory days gal sometimes. Then I usually come back to my senses and think how nice it would be to curl up in a blankie with a warm cup of tea and watch a movie on Saturday night instead.

Saturday, June 09, 2007

This May be Monitored....

Okay, it was strikes again, a week early. How I am expected to see the difference between insanity and PMS when it continues to appear so randomly?? But, more importantly, why is my uterus preparing itself so often?

Could it be my biological clock, about to run out, trying desperately to give me as many opportunities as possible? Why would it do that? It is like the Bil Cosby thing. Why do I have four kids? Because I do NOT want five!

My life followed its regular routine of "just when you think you got it all straightened out, new shit pops up". I pay off all my debt. The 25 calls a day, where I had to listen to that same old line of, "This call may be monitored for quality purposes and this is an attempt to collect a debt, any information provided will be used against you, thrown in your face and used to make you feel like a total if, you don't feel enough like one already". So, I use one day to actually listen to all this to track the debt, make settlements and list all the people I will pay off so that the calls will finally stop. One that showed up on my caller ID constantly was I.C. System. I hate I.C. System. I make out all the checks, I go to the post office, send then overnight and inform all the blood suckers that they are on the way.

First day, debt free, I do not hear the phone and its constant ringing starting at 8:02am. It feels good and I feel good about it all. Then at 9am, as I am doing some laundry, it rings. I smile confidently and think, "Wow, that must be for ME!! A friend or something!". I run up the steps and see the "I.C. System" on the caller ID. I smile to myself, yet again, happy to inform them that they are through with me, it is sent, leave me alone now and have a wonderful day. I answer, wait the 45 seconds it takes for someone to answer me back and it is a lovely gentleman named Nick. He starts with the regular "this call may be monitored for" but I stop him and say, "Nick,I have sent this payment.." He says, "The dentist bill for $547 that was just received in our collection office today??" "Ummm, no Nick, not that one!!" BASTARD!!!!!! F'in BASTARD!!!!!!!!!!

Ten minutes later, it rings again. This time a Florida call. It is a T-mobile balance from a year and a half ago for 178 bucks that I totally forgot about and never really heard anything about in over a year and now, today, this day that I believed I owed no one, this is THE DAY the dentist turns me over to collection and T-mobile remembers me???? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! And WHY????

Then, I remember why. Because it is ME ....duh.

I almost fear sending in the proper college paperwork, so that Ryan's bill will go through the insurance as it should have and then actually paying that 178 bucks, because then what? Some forgotten Fingerhut bill for an 80 dollar phone that I still owed 320 for seven years ago and decided not to pay them on the principle of the matter because they always sent my statement two days before it was due so they could charge me 30 bucks a month for a late fee?? That piece of shit phone, that is long gone now, will probably cost me 10,000 by now! The day I take care of these two issues, I just know they will catch up with me!! So, just when I think it is safe and the waters have calmed, I sit at night, alone, peeking out my window and fearing Fingerhut!

Then I start thinking "fingerhut", what the hell is a fingerhut?

Friday, June 01, 2007


I win the bitch of all bitches award. I'm mean, I yell at people all the time, I have this fed up, stay out of my way attitude and instead of releasing some of my anger with these continual seems to only grow.

It is like the anger for everything that has ever happened to me in the past 40 years is surfacing right now. I can't even stop myself. At the graduation I had to literally stop myself from talking at all because every time I opened my mouth it spurted hate and complaints about everything. I could hardly stand myself!

It did not help that I had not eaten since early morning and Bob was sent on a food run at 4:30, which was one hour before we were to leave. He was going to Wendy's and I said I did not want a hamburger, maybe just one of those deli sandwiches. Since a ten minute run for food is a 45 minute ordeal for Bob, I left to buy a camera at 5 o'clock, knowing that calling him to pick one up would make us late and drive him past the hour mark on two errands. Upon arriving home, I was so hungry it was making me even more evil. I walk in and grab a Wendy's bag and it is EMPTY!!!! I said, "Where is my sandwich??".

"You said you did not want a burger......"

I cannot even describe the rage that filled my entire body as I realized he can only comprehend the first part of a sentence, but to top it off, my parents start calling asking where we are, they are standing in front of the high school and it is 5:15pm. We were to meet them there at 5:45pm to give them their tickets. Travis, in the meantime, has given Bob his tie because he can't tie it...turns out Bob forgets how to, as well.

My parents call back three minutes later, "You didn't leave yet?? People are going in!! We are not going to get a seat...". I grab a piece of cake, the only ready to eat food in the house at that moment and tell Bob to get the tie figured out so we can go. He tries three more times, I have inhaled the cake, the phone rings..."Trying to tie a tie??? Bring it down here, your dad will tie it at the high school, we have been waiting for fifteen minutes here and cannot get in without the tickets!!" AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Travis is now ordered to forget the tie and put on his cap and gown for a quick picture session. He starts to protest, but then looks directly into my eyes and sees the pure evil and quickly gets it on so I can take the pictures. We fly out the door, but then hear Brooke scream, "You didn't give me a hug and a kiss!!! WHAHHHHH!!". We run back for kisses and hugs, we run back to the car and then drive to the high school, me on a bitching rage from hell.."Travis can't just get on the shit so I can snap a picture, cake on an empty stomach sucks, I wish I could have had REAL food, it is too damn hot today, my parents drive me freakin' nuts...all early, always spazzin', how can you forget how to tie a tie, why am I surrounded by COMPLETE and TOTAL IDIOTS!!!!!!..hate, hate, hate!!!!!"

Once we get there, I moan and groan about the heat again and start a political discussion over something unimportant, but annoying to others. I see Dee Dee who speaks to me and I think I may have growled and I do remember rolling my is all a blur now. I went to my seat, started talking about how we were screwed out of tickets...started a Muttley grumbling and then... when the music started... and the graduates starting filing in, I was all business with my proud momma smile and my camera.

That ended a split second after the closing music started.

Project Graduation-phase one complete. The memory tape and party still left, so many more bitching opportunities left.