108

That's the temperature today.
Actual air temperature.

Heat index adds about 5 more degrees.

The noon sun adds about a gagillion.

You'd think the fact that I'm moving to temperate
snow-in-the-middle-of-june
land of ten-thousand-weather-changes
Minnesconsin
would make the heat easier to take.

But it doesn't.
It sucks.
A lot.

I hate it.

I'd like to trade it in, please.
For one of these:

Size: Extra Freakin' Large.

Cheers,
A

Laugh, Out Loud.

Lately I've been laughing.  A lot.  Out loud, even.  Or, as some would say, "lol"ing.
Yes.
Me!
Such numerous lolcasions have caused some to wonder if something has gone wrong.
A few extra screws knocked loose, perhaps.
But no.
Nothing is out of the ordinary.
What has happened, I fear
is a gross misunderstanding of my discernible distaste for the use of LOL.
Allow me to rectify the situation with the following:
I am okay with the use of LOL.
When the user does, in fact, laugh.
Out loud.

Meaning, just in case this needs further clarification,
that when someone
even myself,
finds something humorous enough to cause one to make an audible noise
like a laugh, or a cackle, or a giggle,
it is perfectly acceptable to type "lol."
Because,
as it indicates,
you did just Laugh.  Out loud.

I hope that helps.

Cheers,
A

I May Be On A Rant Here...

There are a certain number of things I simply don't understand.
Probably never will.
Most of the time,
I'm able to tolerate them.
I exercise patience.
But occasionally, I'm driven over the edge.

Turns out, I'm as good at exercising my patience on a regular basis
as I am my cankles. And jiggly middle.

The infrequency may be alarming.

The first of my many woes is shopping carts strewn haphazardly in parking lots.  On curbs.  Clustered on the outskirts of what must have been, at some point during the day, a busy shopping center.  Is it really so hard to put them back? So horribly time consuming? I may be on a rant here, but I once watched a woman wrestle her half-sized Marshall's shopping cart up and over the giant Texas-height curbs so as to avoid putting it back in the corral.  She nearly fell over.  Twice.  The cart return was 25 feet from where she was parked, yet she fought and wrestled and wrangled that cart up over the curb and left it lying on its side next to a drought stricken tree.  And, while I am certain the shade of that decrepit little tree would have turned that tiny cart into a nice shelter for a very small homeless man, returning it to the appropriate receptacle would have actually saved her time.  And energy.  Of which she was apparently lacking.

I have said this once, maybe even thrice, but I cannot stand the constant, incessant misuse of contractions.  Namely on social media sites.  I admit it, I'm guilty of the occasional slip up.  Generally when I'm sleep deprived and status updating with my thumbs.  But unbridled use of your when the obvious usage is you're drives me up the wall.  I may be on a rant here but what's the deal?  Lack of qualified English teachers? Laziness?  Sheer idiocy?  You+Are=you're.  Something you own=your.  It's simple really.  A baby could do it.  Secondly, I get that you're on facebook, and probably don't care about your virtual grammar, but other people read what you write.  If you present it poorly, you present yourself poorly (see? It's not you'reself.  Therefore, it's not you're. Easy!)  "Words are the dress of thoughts; and should no more be presented in rags, tatters, and dirt than your person should." ~Lord Chesterfield.  That man was on to something. (No, he was not onto something...but that's another lesson for another time.)

Since we're (we+are) already on the topic of grammar, I'd (I+would) like to take another moment to mention that I especially loathe ex-specially.  I may be on a rant here, but there is no "x" people.  E+S sounds like "ess."  That's the exact same way I explain it my three year old.  Esssssspecially.  While we're at it, I should also mention that there is only one "u" in nuclear, two "r's" in library, and the use of the word irregardless is redundant.  And wrong.   Moving on...

Automated systems.  For the love of all that is holy can companies please go back to doing business the old-fashioned way?  I may be on a rant here, but hire an operator.  Or two.  Or fifty.  I'm certain that in today's economic climate there are a whole host of folks who would gladly trade their extended unemployment benefits for a job behind a mahogany-esque desk answering gagillion-line phones and playing Minesweeper on a computer older than they are.  I don't want to listen closely in case the options have changed.  I'm never going to por favor primo el numero dos.  Give me a person. Now.  And if you won't, I am going to dial zero until someone picks up the phone.  Every. Single. Time.

Texas politics.  And I'm leaving it at that.

People who complain about taxes, how high they are, how low they are, how unfair they are, and yet they vehemently oppose funding for social programs.  I may be on a rant here, but how exactly do they think these programs are funded?  Magic and wizards?  Super-fruity unicorn juice?  I really don't want to have to sit through another diatribe about how "I don't have kids, why should my taxes pay for education?"  Because.  Education benefits everyone.  Dumbass.  I would delve into this further, but chances are, if you don't believe in education, you are not reading my blog.  Or reading at all...

The added layer of adipose that has taken residence on my thighs.  Leave.  Your services are no longer needed.  I get that you were necessary when my mammary glands were working overtime, but now that I'm graciously endowed with the upper body of a 13 year old girl, you can be on your way.  OkThanksBye.

Lastly: People who think they are better than everyone else.  Really  By whose count?  I may be on a rant here, but for the sake of argument, let's say they're right.  What do they win?  Money?  3 wishes?  A parade complete with ticker tape, vuvuzelas, and Ferris Bueller singing on a hijacked float? No?  What then?  A mere ego boost? A shitty attitude?  Sounds to me like the title of "better than you" doesn't pay well.  I'll keep my "just as good as anyone" and raise "Better Than" actual happiness.

*phew*

I feel better now.
Thanks for listening.

Pet peeves are just that.
Things that annoy me.
Sometimes.
These annoyances might not be yours,
and that's okay.

But this here?
It's my blog.
And I'm super happy you come to read
the place where I get to share
my opinions.

See that "comment" button below?
That's where you get to share you'res.

Kidding!

I mean, yours.

xo
A

The Airing of the Grievances

As is a Festivus tradition
here, via this blog,
in no particular order
I shall air my grievances.

I shall
in the spirit of Festivus
call out those
who have annoyed me
over the course of the past year.

And if you made the list
then I ask that
in the Spirit of Christmas
you forgive me my grievances
and give me a gift anyway.

Here we go:

*Line Whiners.  It's the holidays, folks.  You're going to have to stand in line.  Yes, there should probably be more than two employees at Gap's cash wrap three days before Saint Nick slides his fast ass down your chimney, but when there are only two overworked, underpaid, smiling employees behind that massive counter and you are forced to stand in a line that meanders nearly out the door, quit your bitching!  We're all, you know, the restivus, waiting too.  Just like you are.  Maybe you could take these extra few moments to ponder what it is you are buying, and maybe even decide that you can, in fact, live without it.  Put it back.  Nay, throw it back thus forcing a Gap employee to spend hours folding and re-folding unwanted merchandise further preventing him/her from assisting customers who wish to actually purchase something and are, quite frankly, sick of standing next to your complaining self in the line-that-just-won't-end.

*Express Lane Item Counters. Please. Pleeeeeeeeazzze.  In the name of all that is Holy: Stop counting how many items people have in their carts.  And, if they happen to have more than 10, please keep it to yourself.  Sometimes, people are in a hurry.  Sometimes they have a Yoga class to get to. Or a last minute bank deposit to make. Or need to get home to a baby with an erupting molar and an ear infection.  Or they are just plain rude and don't really care that they are in the express lane.  Or maybe, they just don't bother actually counting each and every item in their shopping cart.  Maybe they eyeball and think to themselves, "Eh, that looks about right." Regardless, it really is none of your business. The line will eventually move, you'll pay for your items, and be on your merry way.  Just in time to leave your cart behind my car and cut grandma off on your way out of the parking lot.

*The Biggest Loser.  First, I love you. I do. I watch you every single season, and will continue to do so as long as there are overweight people wanting to lose weight on TV is Bob.  That being said, would you get rid of the gratuitous infomercial bits not-so-conspicuously placed in the middle of the show?  After seven seasons (or is it eight?) I know that gum will curb my cravings for dessert and other sweets.  I know that Jenni-O Turkey is a much healthier option than beef.  And I get it: Vegetables!!  Fruit!!  Leave the commercials for the two minutes I look forward to fast-forwarding through and show me more Bob.  And Jillian, too for that matter.  I'm not picky...

*Spammers.  Correction: People Who Respond To Spammers.  Please.  Let this blog post serve as the Idiot's Guide On How NOT to Fall For Email Fraud.  Step One: Enable "Junk" filter on email server.  Step Two: Do not open any emails that your email is smart enough to send to your junk mailbox.  Peruse the messages, give a good once-over.  You know, make sure you didn't need that coupon from Amazon.com or J.Crew.  And then press "DELETE." Step Three: If you didn't quite understand Step Two and actually read the email read the following information VERY CAREFULLY:  You did not win an obscene amount of money due to the death of a foreign dignitary.  You are not their sole heir.  You will not receive the money once you send a small sum to a bank account in Nigeria.  Secondly, no one that you have zero recollection of giving your personal (as opposed to professional) email address to is going to send you "A Very Important Business Proposition for You!" Also, Hotmail/GMail/Yahoo is not contacting you for your email address and password so that they can ensure your account is secure.  They actually have your email address.  They own the rights to it, remember?  Your email ends @hotmail/gmail/yahoo.com?  That means they know who you are.  Second, if they are going to send you an email alert, they wouldn't be dumb enough to funnel it into your junk mail filter.  In the off chance I am wrong about this, heed the following: In the address line, it won't say, "Windows Live Team" {windowslivetomjones@yahoo.com}  It won't say this, ever.  Not even once. So don't respond with your email and password.  Pretty please?  With common sense on top? Step Four: Repeat steps 1-4 as often as necessary.

*LOLers.  If I've said it once I've said it a million times, LOL does, in fact, mean "laugh out loud."  Which stands to reason, then, that if you are using the addage you did, literally, laugh.  Out loud.  Audibly.  It is not a placeholder for "I don't know what else to say." Or "Imagine something funny written here."  Allow me to be perfectly clear, I myself utilize these three offending letters at times.  I have typed "LOL."  When I have laughed.  Out loud.  Audibly.  Otherwise, I stick to the old wisdom that if you don't have anything to say, don't LOL.

*Homophobes.  No further explanation needed.

*Overhead Bin Stuffers.  Your suitcase is beautiful.  Gorgeous.  One of a kind, even.  But it belongs in the overhead compartment.  Alone.  Without your laptop.  And your purse. And your plastic shopping bag of goodies that you couldn't live without and just had to buy before you boarded the plane to some fabulous vacation you can't really afford but you're going on anyway.  Those things? They belong under your seat.  So that my suitcase, once I finally get on the plane, has somewhere to go.  Unless you're in the bulkhead.  Without kids.  Or the need for any extra space whatsoever.  Because you are evil.  In this case, you can put your purse in the overhead compartment.  And listen to a tiny cramped baby scream in the seat behind you for the ENTIRE PLANE RIDE.

*Wikileaks.  Couldn't you have leaked some information that actually would have been helpful to the general public?  Like who shot JR?  Whether Kim Kardashian's ass is real? Barry O's birth certificate?  The names of countries in the world who would destroy us if given the opportunity and/or weapons necessary to do so?  Or given the removal of foreign aid in the form of American dollars?  Why Iceland is green and Greenland is ice?  Why people can't use blinkers?  Did the Mayans know the outcome of the 2012 election?  Did they predict Sarah Palin as victorious?  Is that why their calendar ends that year?

*That's What She Said-ers. Myself included.  Can this phrase be done now?  I'd like to stop using it, but it's just so hard.  (that's what she said.)


Okay, friends.

That's it.
That's all I've got.
This year, anyway.

Did I touch on yours?
Or did I leave something out?

Oh yeah,
I did!

*Readers who refuse to comment.

I kid, I kid.
Sort of.
Maybe.

Cheers,
A

Up A Wall

Seeing as how it's Wednesday
I have to blog every day
and Thanksgiving is tomorrow
I thought a nice precursor
to a holiday filled
with gratitude
would be a list of things
that drive me
absolutely
up
the
wall.

*At the risk of sounding redundant, L.O.L.  Stop it.  Now.  Unless you're a tween. If you laughed, type "ha!"  If you didn't, don't use "lol" as a placeholder for something witty.  Instead, use my version of the same thing: {imagine something witty written here}.  Far less succinct, I know.  But much much much much extremely less annoying.

*Bigotry. Of any kind.  For any reason. Stop it. Now.

*Lazyness.  Okay, Okay. In in the interest of full disclosure allow me to state that I am extremely lazy.  So maybe I should clarify: Lazyness that affects other people.
Or is it effects?  
I can never keep them straight.
Either way: Listen up people!  Return your shopping carts.
Park your car instead of leaving it idling justforfiveminutesIpromiseI'llberightback.
The exercise will do you good.
Clean up after yourself.
Even when you're in public and it's someone else's "job."
Because it's the right thing to do.
And because your mother taught you better.

*Plastic bags.  And cashiers who put two items in one bag.
Really?  One roll of toilet paper is all that will fit in there?
Worried you're going to crush my AA batteries and bottle of soda?
Thanks, I'll stuff this in my giant purse.

(Special shout out to giant purses!  Holla!)

*People who attempt to merge without bothering to check their blind spot. Or look in their mirror.  At all. I'm thankful I have a horn.  Very. Very. Very thankful.  So thankful that tomorrow I shall be feasting in honor of that very horn.

And my cat-like reflexes.

And now, dear readers
because it's still Wednesday,
and I've just ranted for 1.74 minutes
(which actually took me about 20 minutes to type, re-type, un-type, and edit)
I leave you with this:

Because this will totally lighten your mood.
Make you smile.
And add 10 pounds to your midsection.

Oh wait,
that's just me.

Cheers,
A

The Rant Zone

I'd like this blog to be sunshine and rainbows all of the time....
but, I am not Ree.  I can't do Ethel Merman impersonations, and the only recipe I could offer is for blue box mac and cheese.
(ok, that's a strech, but I'm no chef...)
I am not Dooce, either and so I won't fill this humble blip of a blog with cynicism and wretchid complaints.
Well, at least not as many...

But, I do have some things I'd like to get of my chest.
And I can not wait until Festivus.

Let's start with public restrooms.  I may be on a rant here, but Is it really necessary, when entering a stall, to flush the toilet prior to using it?  Unless someone left a floater, or filled the toilet with stinky nasty asparagus pee, just sit down and do your business already.  Shredded toilet paper left from the last flush does not neccessitate a new tank of water for which to collect your sacred urine.  Fresh water is a commodity, folks.  Let's not waste it.  Oh, and if you're pooping...don't flush so that the person in the stall next to you can't hear your fart. Or kerplunk.  Pooping is normal. We all do it.  Men even do it together...as a planned part of their day.  Us ladies can poop side by side and not be embarrased.  But...if it stinks....go ahead a courtesy flush it away.
Thank you.

Second order of business: You all know how I feel about blinkers, and the pesky irritating drivers who choose not to use them.  But let's shift our focus to those who don't actually know how to use a four way stop sign.  I may be on a rant here, but it's not all that difficult.  I know that in this day and age, we rely heavily on traffic lights to tell us when it's our turn to advance, so allow me to provide a brief overview of the hard-to-master Four-Way Stop.  If you arrive at a four way stop sign at the exact moment as another vehicle, the car on the right has the right-of-way. Is that you? Hooray! Do a little dance and drive-on. If you arrive moments after another car, but they are on your left, and are coming to a full-stop, therefore throwing a wrench in your urgent attempt to get wherever it is you're going....listen up..this is important...THEY HAVE THE RIGHT OF WAY.  You will have to wait your turn.  *gasp.*  Oh, and just so we're clear...a left-turning vehicle does not have the right-of-way over a car going straight through the intersection.  Ever. 

Third: Minnesota Nice. I may be on a rant here, but I don't actually think it exists. Instead, I believe it is a charming quip used to explain acts of kindness that are becoming more rare than sighting a Blue Whale in its natural habitat.  People are supposed to be nice, folks.  We should do kind things for each other.  Acts of kindness should never be random, nor should they be described as such. 

Finally: This one's for you Gossip McGossipson.  I may be on a rant here, but while I appreciate that your life is so vastly boring that you have no choice but to nose around in the business of others, it is time for you to take up a new hobby.  Try knitting, or quilting. Maybe bowling or bingo. Something. Anything.  Just please stop wondering how she got those jeans when she said she had no money, or how he's totally started smoking again and didn't tell anyone, or how so-and-so keep hanging out and omigod! did you see the way he looked at her the other day?!?!  We all have secrets.  We each hide skeletons in our closet.  If you don't want people nosing around in your dark hiding places, why nose around in the secrets of others?  Especially if you have the gall to call those people friends.  At least to their faces. No friend of mine would discuss my personal decisions and/or life choices behind my back using negative connotations or judgement. 

And Finally, Finally: Since I'm back to work now, let's discuss my current job-related pet peeve.  I may be on a rant here, but your job is yours. You applied for it, accepted the position when offered to you, and have come to work every day to do just that.  Your job.  If you don't like it, if it really is the worst thing ever, why are you here?  No one is forcing you to do this job that you so obviously loathe to the point of disgust.  Sure, some things about your job have changed over the years, and maybe you don't get the same joy out of it that you once did, or maybe the money isn't as great anymore.  All the more reason to dust off that Microsoft Word formatted resume and start searching for jobs on Monster.  I'm sure there's a position out there that will bring you joy.  Or atleast get you out of earshot. If you don't mind,  I am trying to keep a positive attitude and make the best of it.

Thank you for listening.
Goodbye forever.
A
   

Festivus Part One: Airing of the Grievances

Here, in no particular order, are my list of grievances of the past year.

I am officially calling out of those who have disappointed me in 2009.

*The driver who cannot, will not use their turn signal. You know who you are, and are far too numerous to call out by name. I don't have to yield to your manuevers if I do not know what they are. You do not have the right of way just because you are turning...if you do not indicate that you are turning! I do not have to let you merge in front of me just because you "feel like it." I don't need much. Just an orange colored indicator of your next move. Something to let me know what you're thinking. A little gift of courtesy. A trifle, really. A token. Besides: if you don't use your blinker fluid on a regular basis, it goes bad, and then requires changing. This is a very expensive procedure. Just ask the gents over at Pep Boys.

*Misusers of Their/They're/There, We're/Were, Your/You're, Its/It's, and other similar confusions. Really people? Really? My facebook newsfeed is made up of people who are all over the age of 18 and have graduated high school. Thus taking a course in grammar, and being required to pen numerous papers in which the correct usage of such words would be required in order to earn a passing grade (at least I would hope.) So, I ask, what's the problem here? Do we need daily quizzes to keep you up on your skillz? An iPhone app that will help you pick the right word? A DSi "Brain Age" game that includes these common grammatical errors? Or would not being a stupid idiot be the best option? I'm open to suggestions...

*Solicitors. I do not want to join your Mafia. Or buy an animal for your Farm. Or sell make-up or erotica or jewelry or tupperware. I just want to check Spacebook and see what folks are up to. If you aree spending your time farming, playing bejeweled, killin' peeps in a war, or making an aquarium that's great. I'm happy you have something to do at 4 am. It's nice that you're sending your friends happy hearts and drinks of the season and other miscellany, but go ahead and cross my name off your list. And if you won't, I'll just hide you from my news feed.

*The "LOL"er. LOL translates into "laugh out loud." As in - I just chuckled. Vocally. Audibly. Someone may have even heard it. It has now become a typed version of the facebook "like" button. It is what people write when they can't think of anything funny, interesting, or important to say, but they want to make their presence known and they can't type "Nodding my head in agreement." Every time I read "LOL" I cringe. My disappointment in mankind increases. And I am further reminded that the next time I read something funny, something that actually makes me laugh, I have to say, "that made me laugh." Thank you LOL-ers for making me type 15 extra characters and ruining abbreviations for the rest of us. Don't even get me started on OMG and ROFL. I want video proof that somewhere, sometime, a person read something so funny that they fell out of their chair and began Rolling On the Floor Laughing. It never happened. And it is most certainly NOT an appropriate response to anything. Moving on..

*People who feel the need to make completely obtuse comments about my pregnancy. The "Wow, you're finally showing"-ers, and the "How's the baby coming"-ers, and my personal favorite, "Wow you're not very huge at all!"-ers. How's the baby coming? Do you think I have an ultrasound machine in my living room that I strap myself up to every night so that I can check in on my fetus? Make sure all is well? See what organ is developing today? Well, let me put the question to rest once and for all: I don't know how the baby is coming. If you want to talk about my cankles, hemorrhoids, or stretch marks I could go on for days. As to the current condition of the contents of my womb, however, your guess is as good as mine. My response to those who feel it necessary to comment on my size: I wasn't very huge to begin with and everything in life is relative. Second: I was ginormous when I was pregnant with Elena. Too bad you don't have a good enough memory to recall the size of my fundus then. Likely I would have lived up to your expectations.

*The Finger Moistener. Look, I don't care if you poop in the work restroom. Pooping is a natural occurence. I don't even care if it smells to high heaven. We've all been there. So long as you flush when you're done, your poop is your business. But turning on the water and running two fingers under the stream and then wiping your hands on 3.4 feet of paper towel does not make your hands clean. Whether you just pooped your heart out or simply ran into the stall to check and see if Aunt Flo was paying you a visit. You need hot water, soap, a hearty lather, and about a solid minute of washing before you are germ free and fit to participate in the Holiday Pot Luck. Try singing the Birthday Song in your head as you scrub. Song's over=hands are clean. Done and done. Now pass me the cookie tray...

*The woman who walks her dogs to my yard every morning and has them relieve themselves on my tree. My yard is not a dog park. My grass is just as precious to me as your grass is to you. I don't care if this is your "routine" and you'll have to up your pooch's dosage of Prozac if you don't adhere to it. You are rude. And your dogs are ugly. There will be a note on my tree next spring.

*Lady Gaga. Need I say more?

*Sarah Palin. Without getting all political on you, allow me to just say that I am gravely disappointed in her politics, her accent, and her attempt at "going rogue." I do, however, really enjoy doing Tina Fey style impersonations of her. Making this addition to this list kind of a wash.

Honorable Mentions:

*Brett Favre "fans."

*My Utuerus (on this list only if I fail to deliver its contents prior to December 31st at midnight).

*The facebook "like" button

Merry Festivus, everyone!

A

Grammar (C) Park

Because it's Friday.
Because I haven't had enough coffee yet.
Because a surprising number of folks need it...

Here is a quick little grammar lesson.

Your: Posessive pronoun. Of or belonging to you.
You're: Contraction. You+Are.

There: Adverb. A place.
Their: Adjective. Belonging to, done by, or made by "them." Possessive form of "they."
They're: Contractive. They+Are.

Its: Posessive prounoun. Replaces His/hers/theirs, etc.
It's: It+Is.

*Helpful hint with contractions: SAY IT OUT! If it doesn't sound right to say "you are" or "they are" or "it is" then you don't (do not) want to use a contraction. You'll (you will) want to use another word.
Like Their.
Or Your.
Or its.

Savvy?

A

Fuzzy Math (Updated)

I had a flu shot recently. Not the H1N1 quite yet, but my normal seasonal flu vaccine. I stopped into my normal clinic, sat down in a nurse's office, and got a needle in the deltoid.

Then I asked for a sticker.

And a lollipop, seeing as how I was so brave and all.

Then I went on my way.

DRL and Elena went to the quick clinic in our local Target store and also got a shot to the arm. I'm pretty sure DRL didn't get a lollipop though.

Budget cuts.

DRL paid $12 each for the flu shots at the Target Clinic. My bill just came in the mail. Here's what it said:

Flu Vaccine Age 3+: $16.00
Amount Paid by Insurance: $15.00
Patient Responsible: $25.00

Wait. What?

Patient Responsible: $25.00

I was assessed an "Office Visit Copay" for a sit down in a nurses chair. For a flu shot. And a lollipop.

I think I have to call Aetna and ask them about this. Or I need to find out just how much my clinic charges for stickers and candy. No wonder Target doesn't give them out!

Silly lollipop.
A

**Update**

My doctor called me moments after I posted this and told me that I could "come on down" for a H1N1 shot. I hopped in my CR-V and flitted over to the clinic for another shot in the arm. I did not ask for a sticker this time. Or a lollipop.

I am hoping the billing will reflect this change.

However, I did get a band-aid...so you never know.

Furthermore! Elena is going to Park Nicollet tonight to get her H1N1 shot and she will definately need a lollipop and sticker. Maybe even two stickers. Not to mention another booster of the same shot in 28 days. Oi!

Anyone want to buy a hat?

Blackmail

Dear Elena:

I went through an awkward stage. A very long, very torturous, very uncomfortable awkward stage. It just so happened that these were the most photographed years of my life. I was in dance, Odyssey of the Mind, Marching Band, Solo Ensemble, Choir, Awkward Kids Club, Spelling Bee...well, ok, you get the idea. My photo was everywhere.

Upon my high school graduation your granmother took all of these horrific pieces of photographic blackmail, and posted them, in an enlarged format, along the walls at my party.

(Thanks mom)

There may have even been a cardboard cutout of your Uncle Noel on a dirtbike. There was vodka at the party, so my memory is slightly fuzzy (thefamilypelton does not endorse underage drinking. I was young. And stupid. Allow me to be your bad example), but I do remember large, glaringly ugly photos of myself haunting me from their place on the drywall.

(Again, thanks mom.)

Oh yeah, there's a point to this story. Sorry.

I swore I would get your grandma back one day for the embarassment that she incurred me that night. And I can only apologize to you, my lovely, amazing, adorable, non-awkward daughter that you are going to be the vehicle for this revenge.

But all things, you see, are cyclic. And it's your own fault that you were naked on a table, with a pole, and bending to pick up your "gockie."

Ok, it's Scott's fault for having the camera and taking the photo. Let's keep the blame out of the family.

And don't worry...I won't blow this up to lifesize at your graduation party. I'll keep it a modest 8x10.



And if you ever decide to pole dance naked again, I will ground you. For life. From everything.

Hoping you choose another career,
~momma

Dear Hormones,

You suck.

Too harsh? Okay, let me put it this way.  I can't handle the tears any longer. I no longer want to be the crazy woman in the CRV who randomly and without warning flips a certain finger for no other reason than another driver's failure to appropriately signal an impending turn.  Or lane change.  (You know who you are, other drivers. A blinker is not something to do to be courteous. And the use of one is certainly not optional).  Also, dear hormones, I would like to make it through one Kare11 news extra without crying.  Or ASPCA commercial.  Or an episode of Cops.  

I think that DRL would agree with me on this.  Please leave my body.  Or at least do me a solid and level yourselves out already.

Who was it that said we must embrace our raging hormones as a necessary and beautiful part of the miracle of gestation? I would like to shoot them.  And then cry in their arms.  Minus the shooting.

Love,

A

Oh, and a P.S. for you 2.5 readers out there...I, Athena Pelton, am the unluckiest person on the planet.  Want proof? Over on Ree's blog, I actually managed to enter her daily trivia challenge and was the first to post the answers to the movie quotes.  YES you read that right. THE FIRST to post on a quiz about MOVIE QUOTES.  And wouldn't you know it, in all my (google searching) haste, I missed two. TWO.  Google, your open letter is coming. 

I am so ashamed. 

Overwhelmed

School is taking more out of me than I initially anticipated, largely due to the fact that there are only 24 hours in a day, and approximately 18 are already taken up by work and sleep. Another 4-5 are occupied with all things Elena. Which leaves me about an hour to cram in some schoolwork at the tail end of my exhausting day. I am assigned about 2 hours of work a night. How's that for math, Obama!? Can I get a homework bailout??

Okay, okay, that was a cheap shot, and probably uncalled for. But I'm tired.

That's about all I have time to say.

Off to bed I go....

A

Equal Opportunity or an Exploitation of the Legal System?

I'm all for equal opportunity - and I support equal rights for all under the law, but this is just ridiculous. I think that worker's requests should be honored under the Civil Rights act "so long as the requests are "reasonable" and do not create "undue hardship" for the employer," but isn't this taking it a bit too far?

Your thoughts?

Sharp Objects Don't Taste Good

Saturday morning started off just like any other -- Elena and I got out of bed, left DRL and Dog Sister sleeping soundly, and went downstairs to have breakfast. She crawled around while I cut up a nectarine and got out some Cheerio's. I scooped her off the floor, put her in her high chair and put breakfast on her tray. She eagerly gobbled up the nectarine, but seemed to be having some trouble swallowing it. I patted her back, she gave a little cough and then a little cry, and she reached for another handful. A moment or two passed, and the second handful was followed by more of the same -- she started gagging while trying to swallow. This time, though, she made a huge fuss and started flailing her arms and crying. She wasn't choking, as she was still able to breathe, but she had something stuck in her throat. I hurriedly got her out of her high chair and picked her up. I held her, and she started throwing up orange/red tinted spit. I assumed this was nectarine and saliva-which at first it was. I did a finger-sweep, hoping to find the culprit, but instead managed to induce more crying, gagging, and arm-flailing. Then, more vomiting, and suddenly - the orange disappered and only red remained. I realized that now there was blood in her vomit. {Insert PANIC}. I screamed for DRL - Twice. Thanks to the fan, the humidifer, and our super solid no-noise-is-getting-through-these-puppies door, the screaming failed to rouse my slumbering husband. I ran up the stairs, threw the door open and screamed for him to get up becuase our baby was throwing up blood and I needed help. ( A little melodramatic, yes, but hello....have you met me?) He jolted out of bed, ran downstairs in a frenzy, swooped her throat while I patted her back and out came the little round metal screen from our kitchen sink's broken aerator. Somehow it fell onto the kitchen floor and of course - being that she's a baby and must taste everything - ended up in Elena's mouth. The frenzied shoving in of nectarine pushed it into her throat at which point her esophogus attempted, with all of its might, to expel the foreign invader. Hence the vomiting and the gagging and the difficulty swallowing. The edges, being razor sharp and all, probably cut her throat up as she was trying to get it out - thus, the blood. She fell asleep after all the craziness, and was mostly fine for the rest of the day. I however -- was mostly a nervous wreck. I had convinced myself that she was crying to tell me that she was bleeding internally and that I need to hurry up and go the hospital already and that I am such a horrible mother. Turns out she was crying because she's a baby, and that's what they do.

After While, Crocodile

I just don't get the Crocs phenomenon. I tend to think it's strange to walk around in holey, neon colored rubber shoes that look remarkably akin to what Martha Stewart wears to tend her crops or to shower while incarcerated. I don't know that I can subscribe to this one folks. And Elena will not put her baby feet in a tiny tot-sized pair, either. Child size wedges on the other hand...

The Joy of Teething

Elena is very slowly getting her first two teeth. She hates the whole process. She cries, and she hurts, and DRL and I just feel plain rotten for her. Here is some of the photographic evidence that teething equals chewing anything and everything a little one can get their hands on. Oh, and a ton of drool, too.

Eating DRL's soda can.


Chewing one of her teething rings.


Chewing on her bottle.

Hopefully Elena's chompers come in soon. Thank goodness for bibs, soft plastic toys, and baby motrin! Without them, teething would be even more of a pain. Literally.

Politickin' me off

I watched the CNN Democratic debate last night. It annoyed me. It made me throw up in my mouth a little. It exasperates me to watch a political debate in which the candidates focus on throwing stones at one another. Am I that crazy to think that it would be much more productive both for our country and their campaigns if the candidates talked about how to fix everything that Bush and his administration have broken? Don't they all agree that Bush is evil incarnate and that the Democrats and the voters of this great nation must do everything in our power to amend the wrongs that have been thrust upon us? I guess that topic got skipped over last night.

It's good to know that Obama voted "present" 100 times and then tried to schmooze his way out of it. It's good to know that Edwards takes money from people who benefit from lobbyists -- but adamantly refuses to allow any lobbying to occur in his cabinet - ever. It's good to know that Hillary is resting on the sucess of her husband and has no capabilities beyond that of a first lady. But it would be better to know WHY I should even give a rats ass about that crap. Seriously. I'm done looking backwards -- that's what got us in this predicament in the first place. It's time to look forward. It's time for change. It's time for less talk and more action. And it's time to stop focusing political campaigns on the misdeeds of other politicians.

But what do I know....I'm just another constituent.