Friday, December 24, 2010

Who You Callin' a "Ho Ho"?

The trees are trimmed, the groceries are bought, the house is clean(ish), the pressies are wrapped ... the eggs've been nogged and the sweets are baked - I guess now all I need is for my errant family members to get themselves home and Christmas can begin.

To all of you, my bleeps ... and everyone who loves you - hope you have a magical Christmas - full of everything yummy and wonderful!

Take care!

D - Out

Wednesday, December 1, 2010


I have a bad-assed cat.

Had you heard?

Yeah ... he is a B.A.D.A.S.S.

He ignores, without prejudice, each of the following names he's been called: Woody, Woodster, Woodstock, Woodrow, Stinky-Stinkerson, Black Head, Guts and Pig-Cat. (Along with the ever popular, you tubby little shit!)

A few things I have learned about this animal are:

His shit stinks worse than any other animal I have ever had the pleasure of being near whilst it shat ... seriously, it smells like he ate the arsehole out of a skunk.

He has absolutely no manners whatsoever and parades around on the sacred ground of counter tops and tables without shame.

You can't so much as pour a bowl of cereal for the children without a black cloud descending upon it from what seems like every direction.

If it is liquid ... he will drink it. Even if that means he has to stick his paw into the container and lap it up a pawful at a time. His absolute favorite beverages? Anything milky, my meal replacement shakes, Hub's tea, hot chocolate, coffee and my water. Note ... if in my home and have anything you plan to ingest, DO NOT leave it unattended for a millisecond, unless of course you have a fetish for cat saliva.

His cuddliest hour of the day is between 4:15 and 5:15 AM ... and he is aggressive about getting his cuddle on ... so be prepared to awake and administer some lovins if you don't want to be bitten repeatedly.

He eats the other cat's dish of food first and then goes to his own dish to devour his.

He slaps my bum when I walk by him. Seriously ... it happens every time I walk by him ... he just reaches out and smacks me. 

He does the same thing to the other cat.

He sleeps on his back with his legs spread-eagle and his furry belly exposed to the world ... but for the love of all that is good an holy - DO NOT PAT THE BELLY! Not if you value the flesh of your fore arm.

When carving poultry for human consumption ... if you look directly below the counter, you will notice a tubby black shadow patrolling for an opening to get into.

He will eat ANYTHING. I've never seen anything like it. This crazy cat ate baked beans yesterday... half a bowl of them (left sitting on the counter unattended).

If a can of tuna is opened in the Dragonfly home ... be prepared to defend it with your life. That's all I'm sayin'.

He is brazen enough to try to bully the dog out of his meal ... to this point, he has not been successful as Cooper has made it clear no cat will be eating HIS food. (But it is funny as hell to watch)
When on a table or counter and threatened with the (normally) dreaded water squirt bottle, he will merely close his eyes and await the spray. It's absolutely hilarious.

He is a two potty cat. There is a litter box on the main floor - which is his, and another on the upper floor which is for Mato-Cat (Mom's cat). He loads up both of them ... systematically.

...and finally, I love his furry little self with my whole heart.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

The 7 Dwarfs of Abdominal Surgery Recovery

For those of you who do not know already, I had abdominal surgery last Tuesday. It was laproscopic, which means it is much less invasive than a fully open procedure.

This would fall under the category of good news, in light of how miserable I have been since having this heinous procedure carried out on my body.

I have discovered the 7 dwarfs of this recovery:

& Bored

I figure I must be on the mend given my level of boredom today. I am lounging around in my fluffy jammies ... looking at all of the things I could be doing with this time I have off to recoup ... except that I am not even allowed to strip my own frackin' bed. This makes me owly ... oh, okay ... BITCHY ... and HATEFUL ... because I am resenting the fact that my share of the work is simply not getting done. I know it is a heavier load than anyone really wants to admit, but my part of this equation is somewhat sizable. It's not really fair for me to feel this way ... I know that ... but I do.

I tried to wake up with a renewed attitude this morning ... it isn't exactly working out for me just yet. I need a project. Even sitting here to type this is making me dizzy and nauseated ... but I'm not so stoned I don't know my own name anymore - so I guess that's real progress.

Patience  ... my old nemesis. I guess that is what I must employ.

So - hope you all are enjoying your weekends. I'm going to go supervise the stripping of my bed.


PS ... Shorty just announced here moments ago that she misses the usual old get-mad-mom and wants her back. Suhweet ... kick mommy while she's down, puddin' - good for you.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Cause and Effect

Last Saturday evening, my girls and I were seated in the family/living room watching a Halloween type cartoon jobby on one of the kids' channels. I believe it was the Flintstones' special. (I was reading and feigning interest in what the kids had to say about various parts of the show.)

Getting on in the program, Shorty was beginning to get restive. She was sitting on the arm of my chair and Stretch had pulled the hassock/humpty/foot-stool over next to us and was sprawled across it. Apparently (and rather suddenly) Shorty found her proximity to us an affront, and proceeded to turn her little self sideways and start kicking Stretch and pushing her off her perch.

This, of course, caused the very natural reaction on Stretch's behalf of whining her freakin' head off ... which caused me to raise my voice to Shorty ... which caused Shorty to begin kicking harder ... causing Stretch to wail ... and onward ... until I reached over beside me, grabbed Shorty's pants (at the legs) and lifted her legs up and around and sat them on my lap - while I was scolding her for harassing her sister.

At this stage in the proceedings, Shorty sprang from the chair, stamped her little foot, and pushed her balled up little fists down against her thighs ... she then turned on her heel and marched (Military style) out of the room and stomped her way up the stairs ... where she stayed for roughly 15 minutes - until I conned Stretch into going up and talking her into coming back down, she didn't right away, but when she eventually did descend the stairs, she had an envelope for me ... and inside was this:

(For anyone who does not speak or read '5 year old' this means "I don't love Mom" ... which is only written this way because there is no symbol for hate of which she is aware ... next I'll be getting a swastika through my picture or some such thing...)
I honestly didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I did neither. I thanked her for the lovely artwork (at which point she scowled at me and huffed off to another part of the room to finish the show) and then eventually, I sweet talked her into getting back up on the arm of my chair to cuddle with me again.

I am in so much trouble ... oh boy!

Friday, October 29, 2010

Memory Lane

Yeah ... so I took a little trip down memory lane via You Tube today. 

My first stop actually happened on my drive to work this morning with The Dream Academy's Life in a Northern Town. I don't know if it is the kettle drums, the oboe or a combo of all of the wonderfully melodious sounds emitted from this talented group ...   but this song gives me goose flesh. I just love it! (I didn't include it as you are perfectly capable of You Tubing it yourself should you have the urge to walk with me).

I then stopped by some Pink Floyd. Oh how I love me some Floyd! Time, Wish You Were Here, Comfortably Numb, Mother, Hey You, Learning to Fly (just to name a few) ... I couldn't decide which one I liked the best ... so I didn't include a clip for this either.

Nor did I include any of the Paul Simon I was listening to ... but 50 Ways to Leave a Lover is a CLASSIC!. Though, the Muppets' version of this one was pretty darned funny - I must say.
Yes, I am all over the map in my musical taste ... really, is this a surprise given how I am all over every other map ... well ... except for an actual map, I suppose.

Nope ... what I opted to share with you fine folks today is something that struck me so funny when I found it, that I felt I should. This is also a classic song ... but it is set to a sock puppet show. (Oh GAWD ... I just snorted ... OUT LOUD) I do hope you enjoy - I sure did. This is a special kind of whacked, the folks that put this one together.

So, with that said ... happy Friday!! D - Out

Thursday, October 28, 2010

A Few of My Favorite Things, Autumn Edition

I am in a crabby mood ... no ... "bitchy" better describes it. I am not premenstrual, not suffering from insomnia and don't have any good reason for feeling so rotten in my core. I have been avoiding my blog for this very reason. I thought you all could do without my sharing.

I guess my opinion regarding sparing all of you my bitchy-ness has been overruled by my desire to be cheered up. Sorry.

In an attempt to bolster my own spirits, I am looking to you - my bloggy bleeps to partake in a survey of sorts. You aren't required to participate, but you will make my day a happier place if you do. (No pressure)
Fall is a bit of a mixed bag for many of us ... I am certainly not exempt from that list. I could go on for hours about all the negatives associated with Fall for me ... but the purpose of this exercise is to find the positives. So - without further ado, I give you:

A Few of My Favorite Things, Autumn Edition

1) School goes back in... and the "Boo-Bus" starts making its rounds once again - carrying my little darlings off to be someone else's problem for 6 hours learn new and exciting things with which to regale us all at the evening meal.

 This also stirs up my desire to learn ... go back to school, take some wonderful new course and spice up my world.

2) Fall is a retina searing kind of gorgeous (at least in Nova Scotia). With the leaves changing and how perfectly blue the sky looks in the back drop. Never has death been so beautiful as in the autumn of the year.

3) The mornings are so crisp and fresh. It's like an enema for your senses. Nothing can compare to getting out early on a fine Fall morning for a walk or drive, or whatever. It is invigorating to the soul.

4) Evenings in Fall are also crisp and you can smell the woodsmoke in the air. For me, this is a homey and comforting smell. (Wow - Fall has quite an effect of my olfactory sense, no?)

5) There is a desire to snuggle in the Fall (for me) that simply does not exist in the warmer parts of the year. This pertains to physical contact, but also from a mental perspective, too ... snuggling in, battening down the hatches against the onset of Winter. I find a comfort in this.

6) Even though Fall signifies the end of something ... death, perhaps ... it also holds the promise of the rebirth in the Spring of the year. It's like an opportunity for a do-over every year - or maybe just a chance to do better ... I like that.

7) Photo says it all:

8) Photo can speak here, as well...

9) The promise of those first few snow flakes that no matter how much I cursed the winter the year before ALWAYS lift my spirits like a child, flooding my chest with the warmth of excitement.

10) Christmas is right there ... peeking around the corner with its gaudy decorations, folky music, beauty and magic ... have I mentioned how I love Christmas?

There! I did it. I came up with 10 whole things that I love about Autumn/Fall. And hey - I actually feel better for having done so. I invite you to join in ... but if you don't wanna, I'll understand ... someday.

D - Out.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

From the Mouths of Babes...

So ... we are sitting down as a family Saturday night past, watching a movie: Ice Age 3, Dawn of the Dinosaurs - or "Donna, the dinosaur as my children call it). For any of you familiar with this franchise, Scrat finds love (of sorts) in this installment. My youngest child, 'Shorty' (who isn't very short these days ... she's taken quite a spurt since starting school) pipes up at one point and says (and I quote): "NOOOO, SCRAT!!! DON'T DO IT!!! WIVES CAN BE VERY FRUSTRATING!!!

I thought sure there would be a wet spot under my husband (or me, for that matter) when he stood up, he laughed so hard.

Then, last night she was playing a game on line and my mother was watching her. Mom pipes up and says: "Geezzzz ... I have a hard time following this game of yours." To which, Shorty replies: "Well ... of course you do, Gamma - this web site is for K-I-D-Z (yes, she spelled it out) not adults!"

This kid makes me laugh.

The other one ... on the other hand is trying to see if it is possible to actually make my head explode - no doubt just for the enjoyment of the experiment. I've never seen anyone who could push me the way she does ... unreal.

Happy Tuesday!


Sunday, October 24, 2010

No Intro of Mine Can do this Justice...

I know I have said many a time that I am not a fan of organized religion and I have difficulty buying the whole "Jesus Christ, Our Lord" scenario ... but listening to this song this morning shows me how desperately my soul cries out to believe.

This lady is from PEI.

Give a listen.

Friday, October 22, 2010

The Week That Wuz...

Ahh Friday. I do love the Christmas Eve of the week!!

This has been a very long week. I'm not entirely sure why ... well except for the fact that my tenant hasn't paid her rent for the month of October yet and it is almost November ... and she lost her job ... which I found out only because I tried  hunting her ass down through her employer and stumbled across this fact quite by accident.  She's been dodging us since the beginning of the month ... coming home after midnight and leaving before I do in the morning. Sneaky little bitch. We wound up locking her out last Thursday night and posting a note to her door that she needed to speak with us. That's how my husband came to be talking to her at 12:20am ... and when she promised she'd have our rent by the next day ... which came and went with no call and no appearance of cash. On Saturday, she stuck an envelope to our door with $190.00 (of the $550.00 she owes) and a note saying she'd get the rest to us by the following Tuesday. (That would have been 3 days ago) 

Guess what? Oh c'mon ... you know what happens next here. No money. No call, note or contact of any kind ... AND she is back to coming and going when we are asleep. So, I listed the apartment for rent again. We are not in the financial position to be able to let this go. If we are going to have a loss, it needs to be now - before heating season really kicks in. I need to get this girl out of my life ... this is entirely too stressful. 

On Wednesday morning, Stretch stood up on stage in front of her entire elementary school and sang the Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World remix by Nora Jones. I have embedded the Youtube link to it, in case you are unfamiliar with the version:

My husband was as nervous as hell about her doing this and made her sing it to me the evening before to see if I could give her some pointers. He is uber afraid of one of the girls experiencing public ridicule ... which I get, as I do not like to think of them in any sort of discomfort ... but she chose to volunteer for it ... we could hardly keep her from doing it - right? I tried to straighten out a few of the verses for her, but she is as stubborn as a rock and opted to do it her way.

I didn't get to go as I was the only one in that morning (and we had all of 14 hours notice of this event) - so hubs went in my stead. She ROCKED it!! He said he was bursting so much with pride, that a tear escaped. He also said he felt terrible for having doubted her. He said she looked so little on that great big stage all alone ... no musical accompaniment ... she stood there and sang it a capella. He said there was a lady there (another parent) that remarked to him that Stretch had some raw talent and suggested we should give her vocal training. 

I am 'as proud as Lucifer' as they say. My baby!! I can't get over her bravery. Man - I couldn't do that without peeing my pants.

Shorty also got an award at the same assembly, so it was a good day for the Dragonfly girls!

Okay - I'm done bragging now. I figure since I spend so much time complaining about them ... I had better brag them up a bit too - right??

Hope everyone has a stupendous weekend!

Monday, October 18, 2010

How Do I Love Thee ... Let Me Count the Ways...

I love your furry little tootsies that sound like wooden pegs on the hardwood as you trot down the hallway in your heavy-tootsied way.

I love how you purr so big, it's enough to wake the dead.

I love your velvet soft exterior coating.

I love your melodious singing voice ... ahem caterwauling.

I love that you talk to us ... all.the.time.

I love that you 'don't "take no shit" off no dumbass dawg' (sorry, Cooper ... you know you are the dog in my heart).

I love that you are so gentle with the children.

I love that you love everybody in the house ... but love me the best.

I love your GREAT BIG puss-onality.

I love (secretly, of course) that you terrorize Mom's badass cat like she used to do to my precious Chloe.

But most of all, I love that when I get ready for bed and look up the stairs to the upper landing (where you are perusing your kingdom) - all I have to say is: "I'm goin' to bed, buddy ... you comin'?" ...and you do. Then I get the bestest cuddles ever until I fall asleep to your great big purrin'.

What more could anyone want? I'm so very glad we found each other, Woody.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

There's a New Man in My Life!

No wonder I feel so hopeful. 

New love is exquisite... and all powerful.

It makes so many unpleasant things seem so much less important.

He's pudgy, black, furry ... and a badass of epic proportion. The quintessential "Tom-cat" ... or "Thomas Pussy" as my eloquent mother would say.

His name is Woodstock ... or 'Woody' for short (I didn't name him or it would be Jocko ... he looks more like a Jocko than a Woody).

I adopted him last weekend and he is the new love of my life.

My camera is suffering a psychotic break right now and I can not get it to hold a charge long enough to snap a pic ... but there will be pics of my booful new kitty-man... you just hang in and there will be plenty snaps of the most recent "thing that poops" to call our funny farm home.

Welcome Jocko Woody.

Friday, October 15, 2010

Perspective ... That's About the Size, Where You Put Your Eyes...

That's about the size of it.

Anyone familiar with the Sesame Street that I grew up with in the 70's would know this little ditty well. Of all the lessons I learned (or chose to ignore ...) from that iconic program, THIS one is, by far, the most pertinent and poignant. It's a song about perspective. .

Even as a child, I found this meaningful. I mean there is no way I could fully grasp the enormity of the concept at the ripe old age of 7... but I knew it was important.

This year, I am finding this to be particularly pertinent. After the past year and a half or so, what with going bankrupt, limping through last winter, the adventure that is Narci and a few other tid-bits that have not necessarily been shared - I see life a little differently than I used to.

Normally, I would find Autumn somewhat depressing. By October, I would start feeling that sense of an ending. A time to crawl within myself and hibernate for the long, cold winter. I am someone that suffers from the whole lack of daylight thing and I have been clinically depressed since I was a teen ... so, no ... I was never a fan of the gateway to Winter. Not that I don't love Christmas ... because I do, but it has its own baggage, too ... especially for economically depressed budgets such as my own. But this year ...

Dare I boldly state that I am experiencing a feeling that is somewhat alien to me? Could it be? Hope. I feel hope. We are still having issues ... and Hubs was laid off again last week ... (but is still working and still getting paid, and that asinine place he works for couldn't tell its asshole from its appetite, so it's business as usual for now) and my tenant has lost her job (which I found out about after trying to track the little twit down) and is  15 days late paying rent and dodging us ... but, I think we are okay.
We've come through the worst and are out the other side ... we've taken steps to solve our heating issues from last year and I have already started shopping for the big toy haul. Heck ... once I can refinance my mortgages into one ... we'll even be able to get my mom outta the house and back into her place. That'll be suhweet! Then - life will be good(er?) ... (est?)... I'm even starting to bond with my house!

Until then, I continue to work on making us better. Me, in particular ... Danica 2.0, if you will. The next 8 - 12 months are going to be quite a journey for me, both personally and (hopefully) professionally. As long as the caterpillar's shoes have all dropped ... I am blissfully hopeful we are gonna be okay, after all.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Authentic? Possibly. True? Absolutely.

--An actual letter from an AustinTexas woman sent to Proctor and Gamble regarding one of their feminine hygiene products. She really gets rolling after the first paragraph. This was PC Magazine's 2009 "Editors' Choice award-winner" for the best letter sent via e-mail. 

Dear Mr. Thatcher;

I have been a loyal user of your 'Always' maxi-pads for over 20 years and I appreciate many of their features. Why, without the LeakGuard Core or Dri-Weave absorbency, I'd probably never go horseback riding or salsa dancing, and I'd certainly steer clear of running up and down the beach in tight, white shorts.

But my favorite feature has to be your revolutionary Flexi-Wings. Kudos on being the only company smart enough to realize how crucial it is that maxi pads be aerodynamic I can't tell you how safe and secure I feel each month knowing there's a little F-16 in my pants.

Have you ever had a menstrual period, Mr. Thatcher? I'm guessing you haven't. Well, my time of the month is starting right now.  As I type, I can already feel hormonal forces violently surging through my body. Just a few minutes from now, my body will adjust and I'll be transformed into what my husband likes to call 'an inbred hillbilly with knife skills.'

Isn't the human body amazing?

As Brand Manager in the Feminine-Hygiene Division, you've no doubt seen quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during your customer's monthly visits from 'Aunt Flo'. Therefore, you must know about the bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our intense mood swings, crying jags, and out-of-control behavior. You surely realize it's a tough time for most women.

The point is, sir, you of all people must realize that America is just crawling with homicidal maniacs in Capri pants... Which brings me to the reason for my letter. Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful I wanted to reach inside my body and yank out my uterus, I opened an Always maxi-pad, and there, printed on the adhesive backing, were these words: 'Have a Happy Period.' 

Are you f-----g kidding me? 
What I mean is, does any part of your tiny middle-manager brain really think happiness - actual smiling, laughing happiness, is possible during a menstrual period? Did anything mentioned above sound the least bit pleasurable?  Well, did it, James?  FYI, unless you're some kind of sick S&M freak, there will never be anything 'happy' about a day in which you have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlua and lock yourself in your house just so you don't march down to the local WalMart armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your life in a blaze of glory.

For the love of God, pull your head out, man!  If you have to slap a moronic message on a maxi pad, wouldn't it make more sense to say something that's actually pertinent, like 'Put down the Hammer' or 'Vehicular Manslaughter is Wrong'.

Sir, please inform your Accounting Department that, effective immediately, there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits, for I have chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere.  And though I will certainly miss your Flex-Wings, I will not for one minute miss your brand of condescending bulls--t. 
And that's a promise I will keep.


Wendi Aarons AustinTX

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Getting rid of unwanted hair--One woman's story

I did not write this, but I so wish I had. This is the funniest thing I have EVER read!

One of the dilemmas of womanhood: Getting rid of unwanted hair--One woman's story

All methods have tricked me with their promises of easy, painless removal: the Epilady, the standard razor, the scissors, the Nair, the EpilStop, and now . The Wax.

My night began as any other normal weekday night. I came home, fixed dinner for my family and got everyone settled for the night. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next couple
hours: maybe I should use that wax in my medicine cabinet.

I made sure no one would need me and I could head for the bathroom in peace.

It was one of those cold wax kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the clear strips in your hand, peel them apart, press it on your leg (or wherever).   No muss, no fuss. How hard can this be? I mean, I'm not the girliest of girls but I'm mechanically inclined so maybe I can figure out how this works.

You'd think.

So I pull one of the thin strips out. It's two strips facing each other, stuck together. I'm supposed to rub it in my hand to warm and soften the wax. I go one better. I pull out the hair dryer and heat the SOB to ten thousand degrees. Cold wax, my ass.  (Oh, how that phrase will come back to haunt me.)

I lay the strip across my thigh. I hold the skin around it and pull.

OK, so it wasn't the best feeling in the world, but it wasn't bad. I can do this!

So with my next wax strip, I'll move north.

After checking on my beloved family again, I sneak into the bathroom forThe Ultimate Hair Fighting Championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I then apply the wax strip across the right side on my bikini line, covering the right half of my vagina and stretching up into the inside of the right ass cheek. (Yeah, it was a long strip.)  I inhale deeply. I brace myself. RRRIIIIPPP!!!!

I'm blind from the pain! . Vision returning. Oh crap. I've managed to pull off half an inch of the strip. Another deep breath. And RIIIP! Everything is swirly and tie-dyed. Do I hear crashing drums?

OK, coming back to normal again. I want to see my trophy -- my wax covered pelt that caused me so much agony. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold the wax strip like an Olympic
gold medalist.

But why is there no hair on it? Why is the wax mostly gone? Where could the wax go, if not on the strip?

Slowly, I eased my head down, my foot still perched on the toilet.

I see hair -- the hair that should be on the strip. I touch. I feel. I am touching wax. I look to the ceiling and silently shout Nooooooo!! 

I peel my fingers off the softest, most sensitive part of my body that is now covered in cold wax and matted hair, and make the next big mistake -- up until this point, you'll remember, I've had my foot on the toilet.

I know I need to move, to do something. So I put my foot down on the floor. And then I hear the slamming of the cell door.  Vagina? Sealed shut.  Ass? Sealed shut.

A little voice in my head says, "I hope you don't have to shit anytime soon.  Your head just might pop off." I penguin walk around the bathroom trying desperately to figure out what I should do next.

Hot water! Hot water melts wax! I'll run the hottest water I can stand and get in. The wax should melt and I can gently wipe it away, right?


I get in the tub -- the water is slightly hotter than is used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment -- and I sit. 

Now the only thing worse than having your goodies glued  together is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of a tub. In scalding hot water. Which, by the way, does not melt the cold wax.

So now I'm stuck in the tub -- literally!

I call my friend, Liz, because she once dropped out of beauty school so surely she has some secret knowledge or trick to get wax off skin.

It's never good to start a conversation with "So my ass and vagina are tuck to the tub."  She wants to know exactly where the wax is on the ass. "Are we talking cheek or hole, here?" she asks. She isn't even trying to hide the giggles now.

I give her the run-down of the entire night. She tells me to call the number on the side of the box, but to have a good cover story for where the wax actually is. "You know that if we were working the help line at XXX Wax Co. and somebody called with their entire crack sealed shut we'd just put them on hold then record the conversation for everyone we know.You're going to end up on a radio show or the internet if you tell them the truth."

While we go through various solutions, I have resorted to scraping the wax off with a razor. Boy, nothing feels better to the girlie goodies than covering them in wax, sticking them to a tub in super hot water and THEN dry shaving the sticky wax off!

In the middle of the conversation (which has inexplicably turned  to other subjects!) I find the lotion provided with the wax to remove the excess. I rub some in and start screaming "It's working! It's working!" I get hearty congratulations from Liz and we hang up.

I successfully remove all the wax and notice, to my dismay, that the hair is still there. So I shaved the damned stuff off. Hell, I was numb by that point anyway.

I put the box of wax back in my medicine cabinet. Never know when a mustache might start to come in.

Tonight, I attempt hair dying.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Friday Funnies

I thought perhaps due to some general malaise in the bloggy world this week ... some mine ... some belonging to other people that matter in my world.

I was going to write about stuff today, but I think this might be a better idea for Friday.

Without further ado ... I give you Friday Funnies:


A little girl asked her  Mom, "How did the human race appear?"   
The Mom
  answered, "God  made Adam and Eve and they had children, 
and so was all mankind made.." 


Two days later the girl asked her Dad the same question.   
The Dad answered,
"Many years ago there were monkeys from which the human race evolved."  


The confused girl returned to her  mother and said, 
"Mom, how is it possible that you told me the human race was created by God,
and Dad said they developed from monkeys?"  
The Mom answered,
"Well, Dear, it's very simple. I told you about my side of the family
and your father told you about his.."

New Study:

A study worth sharing with friends both male and female:

A study conducted by UCLA's Department of Psychiatry has revealed that the kind of face a woman finds attractive on a man can differ depending on where she is in her menstrual cycle. For example: if she is ovulating, she is attracted to men with rugged and masculine features. However, if she is menstruating or menopausal, she tends to be more attracted to a man with duct tape over his mouth and a spear lodged in his chest with a bat up his ass while he is on fire.

The hypnotist…

I feel sorry for the hypnotist I saw last night.
He hypnotized 7 men, then dropped the microphone on his foot and yelled "F#@K Me"......

What happened next will haunt me forever.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

If Facebook Had Always Been Around

K - I totally lifted this from my friend's FB page. It is just so funny, I had to share.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010


I was all set to continue the "evolution of a grumpy mood" today in my post ... but then I read this post over at Grasshoppa's place and now I can't seem to locate my cranky.

I am totally ripping this idea off from Tiffany at On The Verge who is so incredibly cool and writes the best stuff ... I just love her ... you should go have a peek. 

Where was I? Oh ... yeah ... I was thieving her word: Blush ... that's a Blog Crush. I have a whole lot of 'em. Some who post all the time ... some who post once in a blue moon ... and lots in between. But today, I am going to concentrate my affection on The Grasshoppa. She is a mom to a teenager, 5 yr old triplets and a baby dumplin, and the wife of a pirate. 

She is all kinds of awesome and I just absolutely love her.

You don't need to go all crazy reading a zillion brilliant posts (though I've no doubt there are that many to read) but I encourage you strongly to go over and read this. It isn't a long post ... will take only a few brief moments of your time ... but it will make your heart happy ... and your mood light. 

Worked for me.

Go on ... right here ... I've made it all easy ... just click here.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Slowly Crazy Going Am I ...

My baby started school this year.

Had I mentioned this?

My B.A.B.Y. 

The last ... fruit ... ... loins ... That just seems wrong to put into print, somehow.

I can NOT believe that this same itty bitty puddin pop is all growed up enough to attend public school.

Look at the two of them ... traitors!
They BOTH grew up on me!

It seems an impossibility that this adorable little diapered bottom could possibly be turned out into the world

... all by herself ... no safety net... gulp.

Though, this one has moxie ... it can't be denied.

But she done grew up on me ...

Here's proof right here ...

Look at how confident she is. She's got the world by the arse.

Now, she's coming into her own.

Apparently this is code for "Mommy knows nothing and I don't have to listen to her anymore". Yup. My gorgeous little Boo-Bear has learned how best to hone her 'tude. Everyone tells me she is simply testing her boundaries ... just trying to figure out where she belongs in her newly expanded world. 

I have a few suggestions ... like perhaps a priest hole ... or storm cellar for an hour or two to cool her heels.

I had grown accustomed to her older sister's aggressive and loud ways. Had made as much peace with the fact that she was going to have disciplinary issues as we moved through her schooling and subsequent social growth. Stretch is very intelligent, and I am learning this comes with a certain price where her general attitude is concerned ... but my babe ... she was going to be the easier child. She promised me .... with an unconscious consent ... when I whispered it into her little blond curls.

It's like having my heart ripped out of my chest ... still beating with that unfettered adoration of early motherhood ... only to have it dropped to the floor into an un-swept pile of dust bunnies and dog hair ... discarded for a video game, or a match of torture-your-sister-for-shits-and-giggles. 

Such an important part of me longs to weep ... and wept, I have. I finished the 7th book in Diana Gabaldon's Outlander series last week and, not all that far from the end, a major character dies. It is sad ... don't get me wrong - but I wept openly for well over three hours after reading it.


My husband kept walking past me with a look of abject fear on his face ... I'm sure he was thinking I had finally flipped my bicky and was frantically trying to remember where I filed the life insurance policies.

I'm a little better now ... well except that right on the heels of my morose mood ... a vile and evil one moved in. Poor Dani's Hubs ... poor poor Hubs. Send him beer ... and possibly a club ... for protection ... and some kleenex ... and maybe a map to the file cabinet.

You, too can prevent forest fires divorce.

Send help!

...and Captain ... or Wodka ... or Valium ... do it NOW!

Monday, September 20, 2010


I am in an evil mood.

Well, let me rethink that.

I am in an evil and volatile mood.

Kinda like vitriol in a blender ... on high speed ... that someone carelessly lit on fire ... near a fire works factory.


My family is jumpy.

I called out to hubs last night and he didn't hear me the first time, so I had to call a second time.

He apologized at least twenty seven and a half times.

I told him it was alright ... not to worry. He seemed a little shaky. I've no idea why...

...may have had something to do with the fact that I resembled this lovely fella while calling.

I think it is possible to sum up my current state of mind with the following:

Friday, September 10, 2010

It's the Most Wonderful Day of the Week...

I love Friday.

No, really - I do.

It's kinda like looking at a present before all the pretty wrapping is torn off.                                           

This is a cake!

Yeah ... I really do enjoy the anticipation, don't you?

The last day of the work week ... looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow ... making the impossible lists of things to accomplish in the next two days of freedom. DAMN! I love this day!

Well ... until Saturday afternoon comes. Then I am all OMG! Where is the weekend going? I haven't got anything done! I'm gonna have to do double time tomorrow! It's at that point that your beautifully wrapped pressie is, in fact...

An ugly pair of socks

Or in my case ... six baskets full of dirty, ugly socks ... and face cloths, towels, stained kids clothing and drawers with varying degrees of filth.

Good times.

Yeah - Friday is like a mini Christmas Eve ... every week... which, in turn, makes Sunday like the day you get all the credit card bills. It's a roller coaster ... wheeeeeee!

So, that said ... I wish you each a happy Friday and a painless Sunday with good points in between.


Name Graphics

Friday, September 3, 2010

Hurricane Earl Update

In light of the fact that our weather forecasters aren't even close to agreeing with each other currently on the path and ferocity of this impending storm ... Hubs and I have decided to utilize an old Cape Breton weather forecasting method.

That oughtta cover it.

2 Posts in 2 Days? tha' HELL?

Well ... it's Friday. Can I get a "Woot Woot!"?

It is still as hot as I imagine Hell to be ... though I'm somewhat hopeful Hell has a "dry heat" rather than this humidity. OY! It's like drinking your oxygen. I'm so tired of being covered in a perpetual film of bodily fluid, I could cry ... wait ... I mean ... stand still, while water escapes my body from every orifice (and then some) that I have... wait ... already doing that. *sigh* Forget it.

We don't have a/c in the house ... well, let me clarify: My mother has an a/c unit in her sitting room - so I am PAYING for a/c, I just don't get to benefit from it in any way shape or form. Nor do her close neighbors in the upstairs portion of my house ... you know - my kids? They have difficulty sleeping when it is really hot like it has been this past several days. But Mom keeps her door closed until she goes to bed and then uses my fan to blow the cold air from her sitting room into her bedroom. 

I'm being petty, aren't I? If I wanted a/c so bad, I should have simply bought a unit for the kids' room - right?

I suppose it's not as bad as the night I walked by her sitting room to note the a/c unit on full tilt, but her sitting under a blanket in front of it. I think something snapped inside my head that day.

I have digressed ... again.

So - this weekend promises to be ... er ... wet. Great. More wetness. The heat wave is supposed to go with the ass end of hurricane Earl, though - which means I may actually be able to clean my house properly without drowning myself in my own sweat. Don't laugh ... I'm fairly certain this is a real and present danger to my health. My kiddles are still struggling with the routine of school ... well, it has only been two mornings, after all. 

I am having difficulty too. I haven't done the "flipping of the wardrobes" as yet due to the heat ... and they've got most of their summer stuff either ruined or they've grown out of it. So, dressing the little nippers has been a pleasure, let me tell ya. My youngest grew an inch and three quarters since April ... that is a big jump.

Last weekend, we had that yard sale I've been threatening all summer. It cleared out a surprising amount of crap from the basement. I guess I'll use the fact that we are no longer going away as an excuse to finish cleaning up the basement and get the girls' clothes in order for the school year.

I guess that is the extent of my babbling today. I'll leave you with a sage passage from my email account this morning: (Happy Friday!)

A real man is a woman's best friend. 
He will never stand her up and never let her down. He will reassure her when she feels insecure and comfort her after a bad day. He will inspire her to do things she never thought she could do; to live without fear and forget regret. He will enable her to express her deepest emotions and give in to her most intimate desires. He will make sure she always feels as though she's the most beautiful woman in the room and will enable her to be her most confident, sexy, seductive, and invincible self.

 No wait... sorry... I'm thinking of liquor. It's liquor that is a woman's best friend.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

School Daze and DNA and Hurricanes ... Oh My

My baby started school today.

I'm okay with it, she's totally ready. She's so mature. 

... still. 

She's my baby. 

My youngest offspring. 

My last child. 

I mentioned to hubs as we walked across the lawn from the bus stop, that it was a really good thing we did the whole "big V" BEFORE today ... as I am suddenly longing for itty bitty baby things to be a part of my life again. 

He put his arm around me and smiled a knowing smile.

I hadn't cried ... until then. Sigh.

It's all good.


Yesterday afternoon, my two little doglinks used half of my brand new cotton swabs to do DNA testing on each other. 

Their goal was to prove they were super heroes. 

Oh. My.


So ... Hurricane Earl is heading straight for us. In fact, the eye of the storm is at this stage, projected to pass right over my community.

You see right where that category 1 hurricane passes over NS? Yeah, I live on that water.

Right there in that little inlet off the Bay of Fundy ... yeppers, right there.

We were supposed to go to Cape Breton for this last long weekend of summer. The plan had been to take the trailer for one last trip before we sell it ... and now ...

No trip.

My kids are pissed.

I'm rather interested to see what happens. 

We've been collecting all the crap from the lawn and ensuring everything is well secured.

Making sure there is loads of water stockpiled... and batteries ... and candles ... and of course, some Captain. Can't head into a hurricane without the Captain. :)

Wish me luck ... and send more Captain.

D - out

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Frustration - TYVMT Style

I am so frustrated right now ... right this very minute, I could cry ... scream ... AND ... wet my pants!

I thought today might be a good day to dust off "Thank You Very Much Thursday" again and give 'er a whirl.

Without further ado ...

TYVM, "unnamed bank" Broker Services Division - for fucking over this lovely young (newly) single mother of two in the purchase of her first new home on her own ... your complete and absolute disregard for the three lives you were directly affecting (never mind my own part in this) in such a profound way and your callous and heartless attitude toward this situation turns my blood to ice in my veins. May the fleas of a thousand camels infest your collective nether regions and prosper.

TYVM, Narci - for informing me (when I requested your assistance with the previously mentioned client's file) that I "could handle it" and that I was becoming too emotionally vested in the situation. PUH!! Says I. Let's see this deal get up, walk down the road and get written by another broker and see how "emotionally vested" YOU become ... since I live in mortal fear of every mortgage I can't get done for whatever the reason. May your narcissism and greed someday teach you about karma. 

TYVM, Regional Mgr for "unnamed bank" Broker Services Division ...aka "Teflon Don" ('cause shit don't stick to his fur) - for not only informing me to "shut my face", but that you were "golfing tomorrow" and  didn't want to have to "deal with this shit" - and further, you were "sick to death of this shitty deal" and "wanted it out of (your) face" after flatly ignoring me for the past two and a half weeks until I brought another big gun in to speak for my side ... at that point, accusing me of "dragging an awful lot of people into (my) problems". May you one day suddenly develop elephantiasis of your (currently non existent) boy bits, causing you to fall forward into the toilet bowl mid flush - thus ridding the world of a loathsome scourge... you pencil dick, ass kissing, useless puddle of prehistoric mammoth gizz.  

TYVM, Realtors and lawyers offices - for not only grabbing a cheek and lodging yourselves into  my arse hole, but also for setting up housekeeping. It's been real.

and finally ...

TYVM, ungrateful client (not associated with the client noted above) - for telling me your shit was in order (falsely) and then freaking out on my head because now your closing has been delayed ... 

You are all invited to BITE ME ... except for the realtors and law office staff ...

Ahhh ... I feel slightly better now.


D - out