Tuesday, November 20, 2007

I Love Colonel Angus

A few months ago Michelle (STILL not yet legally) K, told me about the most wonderful Saturday Night Live skit ever - and it has brought me hours of laughs and entertainment; so upon her suggestion, I am sharing the joy with you.

Now I know that when you hear the name Christopher Walken, you don’t immediately think “comedic genius;” but trust me when I tell you that Christopher Walken’s “Colonel Angus” is the all time funniest thing that I’ve EVER seen on SNL. Now, I’m not sure that my description will really do the skit justice, but if you haven’t seen it; basically Colonel Angus is a civil war colonel (played by Christopher Walken) and when you say “Colonel Angus” it sounds as if you’re saying cunnilingus and everything that they talk about, when talking about “Colonel Angus” is just hysterical. ie: A young woman is out on the porch and an older woman is in a rocker. The younger woman says “Tell me about Colonel Angus and the older woman says, “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Colonel Angus in these parts. Or “I’m not particularly fond of Colonel Angus…” Later the Colonel says “Don’t believe everything that you've heard about Colonel Angus…” I know; it’s a little juvenile, but I never claimed to be the Queen of Maturity and Colonel Angus makes me laugh,(well, not if it’s done right – haha) I hope that Michelle (not yet legally) K wasn’t the only one who got that.

Michelle (Not yet legally) K and I love to get together and talk about Colonel Angus; and since I am prone to being the Queen of Beating the dead horse, we can just go on and on all night - Colonel Angus is like that. When it's good, and fun, you just don't want to stop; and since Michelle and I are in full agreement that Colonel Angus would be a great name for a dog; we have amused ourselves for great lengths of time coming up with different scenarios for Colonel Angus. Now I don’t have a dog, nor do I plan on getting one anytime soon, so we started referring to Michelle’s dog Lady, as Colonel Angus - mostly because we thought it would be a riot if her son had to write something for school. He might say: Last night Mom told me to take a shower and Colonel Angus tried to jump in with me. Mom told me to get the dog out of the shower, because the shower was no place for Colonel Angus. Or how bout; Mom doesn’t like the dog to lay on our beds; she says Colonel Angus gets too many hairs on our bed and the floor is a much better place for Colonel Angus. She even bought a special pillow for Colonel Angus. HAHA… OK, you’re either laughing your butts off or you’re completely repulsed – SORRY!

Now, if you think you might enjoy Colonel Angus; let me warn you that It’s not so easy to find Colonel Angus anymore. I first viewed Colonel Angus on You Tube but now you can’t see Colonel Angus on You Tube, since it’s been taken off at SNL’s request. But if you’re determined and persistent, you may be lucky enough to find Colonel Angus and if you do, I guarantee that you are going to enjoy it. Colonel Angus always brings tears to my eyes and I hope it will do the same for you. Oh my god; I just can’t stop. See it’s addicting. It’s just too funny and I hope that you smiled.

And lastly,with Thanksgiving just a few days away, and the holidays rapidly approaching; let me just say that I am thankful for Colonel Angus (Oh boy, am I thankful.) I am thankful for my family, my friends and my readers; as well as for the opportunity to share my insanity with you.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Till next time…

Sunday, October 14, 2007

A New Crown For The Queen

When last I wrote, I mentioned that I had been even more crazy busy than usual; but in the interest of keeping the blog shorter than a copy of "War and Peace," I didn't elaborate. I know, they tend to be long; but hey, I warned you from the get go AND no one has EVER accused me of being short on words. Queen of MUCH TO SAY; that's me!! But I digress. So now something has happened, (Of course it has;) and though the story is funny in it's own right (Rubberneckers be prepared;) I dunno having a little background as to what my past few weeks have been like, just seem to make it a little funnier; and you know me; I'm all about the funny, so here we go.

About a month ago my husband started telling me that he was having some difficulty breathing when he would walk up stairs. He seemed to think it was attributed to more than the fact that he was overweight and outta shape (Hello Pot, it's the kettle, you're black.) Anyway, he was also complaining of lower back pain and his feet also started bothering him, but he thought that was because he stood on his feet all day, so he bought new work shoes. Ultimately I think he thought that he was having a heart attack so he went to the doctor. I know that he must have really been worried because it usually takes an act of Congress to get him to go. Anyway, the PA told him that his heart sounded great (hallelujah!) and that she thought he just needed a chiropractic adjustment. OK, we can do that, Michelle (not yet legally) K's ex- stepfather is a chiropractor and he has an office just down the street from us, so he thought he'd go there and get to feeling better in no time. UNTIL, he started running a fever that Saturday night. OK, so we fore go the chiro and get him an appointment back at the doctor's. This time he saw a doctor, but the doc wouldn't give him any meds until his lab work came back. (This was Tues) Finally Friday night the labs came back and we found out that he had high levels of strep in his blood. In July he'd had Strep throat, and although he got meds in a timely fashion and took them all; it didn't kill off the strep and now it had been in his blood for months and it worked it's way into his joints, causing him what was now; excruciating pain. He started taking the antibiotics but by Monday night he could not walk without my assistance, yup, his decline was just that rapid. We went back to the doctor on Tuesday. By this point I was driving him anywhere that he needed to go because he was so weak that he couldn't get around by himself. The doctor referred him to a Rhuematologist, who we just saw last Tuesday and then we went back to the regular Dr. this past Wednesday. The doctor ran his blood work again (which we still haven't gotten the results of;) but we're pretty sure the strep is still there because Tuesday night he was running a temp of 102.8. Wednesday morning I took my son to school, and my older daughter stayed home because her throat had been bothering her. (She had stayed home Tues too.) I took my husband to the doctor and waited with him for a half hour, until I had to drive my younger daughter to school. I came back and he had finished seeing the doctor but hadn't come out yet. When he came out he had a prescription for the same medicine that he had just finished. I said "No way!" I asked the front desk girl to call to the back office for me so I could speak to the Dr's. assistant. I told the assistant that my husband had been given a prescription for more of the medication that didn't seem to be helping, and I know that we are limited because he is allergic to Penicillin (of course he is;) but could she please ask the Dr. if Lavaquin would be an appropriate drug to treat him. (Tiffany had told me about that one, because she had taken it for a blood infection once and she too is allergic to penicillin.) 10 minutes or so later the assistant came out and gave him a prescription for Levaquin. Good thing I went to med school huh? Yah, I'm just fortunate that I had a friend who gave me some good advice, since the doctor couldn't be bothered to do his job. Before filling the prescription I checked with the pharmacist to make sure that this would actually be an appropriate treatment (since I wasn't feeling so confident in the doctor anymore;) I mean I don't think he'd give us a prescription for Levaquin just because we were asking for it; but hey, ya never know. Nonetheless, the pharmacist did say it was a good choice, so we filled the prescription, and thankfully he does seem to be getting better slowly but surely; though we still don't have his most recent blood work back, Surprise, Surprise.

I took my husband and daughter home and after picking up my younger daughter, my girls and I headed to the pediatrician only to find out after 2 throat cultures (yes, my poor daughter is deathly afraid of throat cultures had to have 2 because the nurse put the first one down "somewhere" and someone threw it away. Boy, do we have the luck) that she had Strep throat. Let me tell you how tired I am of that word.

OK, so now it's Friday; and I was supposed to have a dentist appointment at 430. They hadn't called to confirm, which is REALLY unlike them, so I called them (Can you believe it?) The receptionist said she was just about to call me because they wanted to see if I could come in earlier, and the appointment was only going to be about 20 minutes. "Easy in and out" she said. She even said that I could bring my kids and they'd watch them. Wow! They must have really wanted me in earlier. I agreed to go at 220; and since all I was having done was putting in 2 crowns, I wasn't even nervous. I've been doing SO much better at the dentist lately. It's amazing what 2 Xanax will do for you. Anyway, since it was supposed to be an "Easy in and out," I didn't take any Xanax. The Dr. put in the crowns and told me to bite down gently, AND, one of the crowns popped off and fell into my throat. OK, so I started to panic AND gag, and the doctor just sat there. I felt like he was watching a cat with a fur ball and he was just waiting for me to cough it up. By this point I was straddling the chair and doing everything I could do to get it out, but it was no use, it was lodged in my throat. He calmly said, "Are you having trouble breathing?" I shouted "NO, but I'm choking, help me get this out; it's stuck in my throat." He then called for his assistant Valerie. I LOVE Valerie, she tried to rub my back and calm me down because at this point I was crying. She asked if I wanted to go into the bathroom and try and make myself throw up. Now y'all know I'm a big girl and I'm sure that I don't look like I'm familiar with the practice of making myself throw up but at this point I was willing to try anything. Val came with me, and I got on my hands and knees (I don't know about you, but that's my official throw up position;) and I tried coughing really hard to make myself throw up, and of course... I wet my pants. I think I was more embarrassed about that, than choking on the crown, so I was trying to do my best to cover it up, while sticking my fingers down my throat. It was at this point that the dentist walked into the bathroom, (we hadn't closed the door;) and told me not to worry about the crown. He said "Don't worry, we're going to have the lab make you a new one at no cost to you." At no cost to me? Was he kidding? First of all, I don't think that while I had a crown stuck in my esophagus, I was worrying about who was going to pay to replace it; and secondly; is he out of his ever lovin mind? Like it would ever be MY responsibility to pay for the replacement - Oh My God!
I was unable to dislodge the crown from my gullet, so I returned to his chair and tried to cover up my semi-wet shorts. He kept telling me not to be embarrassed about the crown. Hell, the crown was not what I was embarrassed about, I mean it's not like I tried to eat it. He went on to say that this had never happened to him before. He said "All of the other dentist's that I know have had this happen; and I was wondering when it was going to happen to me. At least it happened to someone I like." What the hell? What in the world does that mean? You're glad you caused this pain and suffering to someone you like? WHY, because you think I won't sue you? Really, it seemed like everything he was saying was just out of fear of repercussion. He assured me that the crown wasn't toxic and that as long as I was breathing OK (which thankfully I was;) I would be fine. Oh why hadn't I taken some Xanax? He put in the one permanent crown that was left and then said Val would put back my temporary and he'd have the lab to make me a new one, "Maybe even better than the one you swallowed." Dr's funny, oh yah, The Dr. is funny. The only way it could be a better crown is if it doesn't go down my throat.
Ughhh!! "Easy in and out" I said. The Dr. finally excused himself and Val finished up. We talked about how poorly he had reacted, or didn't react as the case may be. I told her, "I'm not mad that it happened, because I know it was just an accident; but I'm mad at how he handled the situation because I felt like he did NOTHING." He didn't try to help me, he didn't try to calm me down, and instead he came into the bathroom talking about the price of the crown. Val said "You really need to blog about this"; and I told her, "Rest assured, I'd be blogging about this one first chance I got." I'm telling you - My dentalphobia has reached new heights now.

I went home and had to explain to my husband why I was at the dentist for so long. My husband said "We need to pray." And right about now, I agree. Anyone know where I can get a vat of holy water? I indeed need to purify my house - this is just insane.

On Saturday morning, The Dr.'s office called. The receptionist asked if I was OK and I said "yes, I'm just disappointed in him." She said that the Dr. wanted to speak to me and though I REALLY didn't want to speak to him, I said OK. The Dr. asked if I had passed the crown. I said "Not that I'm aware of." He said "Not that it can hurt you, but if you don't pass it in a few days, you should go to your Dr and have them take an x-ray so we can see where it is." Oh, good god. This is all I need. So now, I get to be my very own poop inspector. I've never wanted to see something so badly in my poop in my life; but thus far - No crown for the Queen.
Think good thoughts for me, I really don't want to have to go to the doctor, because you know I'm gonna be fighting with him over who's going to pay for that; not to mention that I don't want any complications from this ridiculous occurrence. I'm telling you, I really think I need my own reality show. I mean say it with me "Who could make this stuff up?" Imagine watching my reality show and I'm in the dentist's chair and I'm choking on the crown - can you say Emmy?
Well, please keep us in your prayers
Till next time...

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Here we go again...

Hey, Hey Hey (a little "What's Happening" reference for you.) It seems like it's been forever. Part of my distance may have been blogger's block, or maybe I'm just using that as an excuse because it was more like blogapobia: fear of rejection of your blog (things seem to have gone downhill with my blogging since the posting of my Why Disney blog; and by downhill I mean, like 1 comment.LOL) Seriously, I think my blogaphobia meant that I was afraid to disappoint my 4 readers, hahaha. I've given it a lot of thought,(as I always do, being the Queen of Over thinking) and it seems to me that people seem to enjoy the tales of my insanity and ridiculous experiences and by enjoy I mean; they leave comments. Ah yes, tis the fragile ego of this blogging Queen who seeks encouragement and validation in the form of comments on my blog.

I equate enjoying my blog with rubbernecking; you know, what many people do when they see a car accident. Traffic tends to slow down because the drivers are looking at the accident; but instead reading my blog is like peering into an accident. The accident that is the ridiculous and bizarre things that tend to happen to me and not the average Joe or Josie. Well, it is a Bumpy Ride so I say rubberneck all you like; just please let me know that you're doing so from time to time.

So anyway, of course a few things have happened that I have considered blog worthy, but I have been even more crazy, busy than usual and I never made it to the computer to share them with you. But today something happened and I knew, I just knew that I had to share it but I really didn't think I'd find the time; so I opted to call a few friends instead and try to just tell them what had happened. Well, I tried to call 4 friends, that's right 4 friends and one I even tried twice and not a one was home (or at least they didn't pick up the phone - Damn caller ID.) LOL Anyway, I thought this might be a sign that indeed this story needed to be blogged instead and then it happened. I came home and the cable was out. Computer too - Damn Cox. But now I had something that I never have - TIME. SO I got out my notebook and started writing away. Cox got back up (no pun intended) and now I'm typing away.

OK, so I was at my son's soccer practice and after chatting with a few moms in the parking lot, I made my way over to the field. I put my chair in close proximity to the only other mom at the field. Not right next to her; but close enough to have a conversation. She looked very tired and her voice sounded like she had a cold; and even though the only times she's spoken to me were when she responded to me saying hello to her; I still felt compelled to ask if she was OK. Now I don't know her name, but for the sake of this blog, I'll just refer to her as WT (White Trash). OK, so I ask WT if she's not feeling well and she told me that she was exhausted. She said "I've been working; and I'm not a worker." Now there's a statement. That should have told me right away who I was dealing with, but NOOOO; I continue. I asked her what kind of work she was doing and she said "Well, I'm temporarily disabled but I've done child care my whole life, so I'm working in a daycare." She said "It's in Scottsdale and I hate all the skinny, snooty, bitches." (she's a big gal herself.) And then she said "And to top it all off; they're all Jewish." Say it with me people "OH NO SHE DIDN'T!!" OK, so I couldn't believe my ears and felt myself thinking in slow motion. How the hell was I gonna handle this one? Now, admittedly I am NOT the Queen of Jews, not by a long shot; BUT I am very proud to be Jewish and I absolutely despise people who stereotype Jews or make derogatory comments based solely on their own ignorance. OK I said it, I HATE stupid people. Anyway, though I'm not usually the Queen of Restraint, I calmly, and with a big smile on my face replied "I'm Jewish." Though in hind sight I wish that I'd said "What do you mean?" Anyway, WT tried backpedaling and said "Not that that means anything." She said "I mean I think the religion is fascinating." (Yah, sure you do.) When I asked how long she thought she'd work there, she said "Well my boss is really great; I mean I call out at least once a week and I don't work Fri, Sat or Sun."(Can you say Squeaky wheel?) "So I told them I'd stay till Chanukah. I figure I'll get my 12 presents and then have Christmas." And for all my non-Jewish readers; there are only 8 nights of Chanukah,"8 crazy nights" - to quote Adam Sandler, not 12 - but she's FASCINATED by the religion - greedy heffer. She went on to say that these skinny, snoots drop their kids off to go to the gym. And as I said, she's a bigger gal so I suppose she resents them from the get go. She spoke of one skinny, snoot in particular who only spoke Hebrew and only to the director when she goes in to the center. My guess is she's a smart, skinny, snoot and she recognizes that WT would be a a complete waste of her time so she doesn't bother to speak to her in any language.
OK, so I know that you're probably thinking, that's it? Your big response was to say "I'm Jewish" and then have a conversation with her? Now c'mon, you know better than that. What I said was "I know exactly what you're talking about with skinny, snoots because there are these 2 women at my daughter's preschool and 1 is very thin and the other is very fit; well at least to hear her tell it, she is." I then said that I didn't like the "fit" woman because she had a bumper sticker on her car," Wait, wait. And I said "I won't tell you what it said; because you never know who you're talking to; but I know what it means and I don't like her." This tidbit actually is true and I doubt she got my message but hopefully she's smart enough to feel stupid. Should be interesting to see if she ever speaks to me again; or will it be clash of the soccer moms? I'll keep you posted.
Till next time...

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Incident # ??

So Michelle (Still, not yet legally) K; and her husband had been talking to my husband and I about switching our phone, Internet and cable service from Cox to Qwest and Dish Network. Considering that they were the ones who had fostered our switch to Cox for all of the above a few years ago, I usually look into whatever they suggest. Anyway, since my husband is from Mexico and Michelle and Mike are not; we need to have a calling plan to Mexico and they don't; so I did need to call and get some info on my own. Well, I called Cox to find out EXACTLY what services I currently have, so that I could compare it to Qwest when they gave me my quote. Now, I'm no fan of Cox, since they still seem to think that they are the only game in town and discontinue services at their will, yadda yadda; but they did give me all of my info in great detail. So I called Qwest and spoke with some inept buffoon, who obviously didn't care about working there and sighed heavily each time I asked a question. The Whiz quoted me $67.98 for my phone (w/ unlimited US long distance) and Internet at 1.5 MB's. I told the Whiz that I was a little surprised at the speed of the Internet since my speed with Cox is 7 MB's; and he tried to tell me that 1.5 is faster. OK - I am admittedly, Not the Queen of Computers, so I let that one go. Then I asked him how much it would be for us to call Mexico, and after pausing a moment; the Whiz told me that it would be $35 a month. OK - so you know I laughed a hearty laugh and then I told him that I didn't think this could be possible. He asked me to hold on, came back and told me that it would be an additional $2.00 a month and then 10 cents a minute to both Mexico and the US (so I wouldn't have unlimited US LD anymore) but $20 would be dropped off the rate. So I understood him to mean it would be $47.98 plus $2.00 plus 10 cents a minute. We hung up, and I did the math and yah, not such a great deal. So I called back. This time I got a woman Thank GOD and I told her that I needed to clarify some information about their rates. Now I know that you're going to be shocked by this; but, the Whiz was wrong. I know, I know, hard to believe, but true. Turns out, the calls to the US are still unlimited, you still pay $67.98 but you also pay $2.00 a month to entitle you to the 10 cent per minute to Mexico deal. OK, now that's more like it. Things were looking good. I'd definitely be saving some money on the phone and Internet services; but what of this difference 1.5 vs. 7 MB's??
My husband came home and I gave him the info about Qwest. I told him about the MB's and he told me that 1.5 was definitely a lot slower. He asked if I was sure that he didn't say 1.5 GB's? Well, I was kinda sure. No, no, I was sure. But then I read this flyer from Qwest, talking up their 1.5 Silver Internet plan and it said up to 2 GB's of storage; so I thought "Maybe that is what he said," and once again I called back.
The gentleman answered the phone by saying "This is Patrick. How may I provide you with excellent service today?" Hmm, "I like the sound of that" I thought, "excellent customer service as opposed to Cox' whimsy; this is gonna be good." I VERY cheerfully said "Hi Patrick; I am a previous customer and I've called a couple of times today and I'm just trying to clarify some information that I was given. I was told that your 1.5 Silver Internet plan is 1.5 MB's but my current plan with another carrier is 7 MB's and then I read your flyer that said up to 2 GB's of storage; so I'm wondering is it 1.5 MB's or GB's?" To which Patrick replied "How are you getting speed and storage mixed up?" OK, close your mouths, that IS exactly what he said. Well you know the Queen was not gonna tolerate that insubordination so I told him. "That was very rude and uncalled for." (Wow, fierce response huh?) To which he replied "I'm sorry if you thought that I was rude ma'am; there's just no accounting for insecurities." Say it with me "OH NO HE DIDN'T!!" But yes; he did. So of course you all know what I said next; "Get me your supervisor because it is obvious that you DO NOT know how to provide EXCELLENT service." I waited on hold for what seemed like an eternity and I was convinced that he had just put me on perpetual hold until after several minutes a supposed supervisor got on the line. (I say supposed because when I did a stint in the call center at my office; whenever a customer would want to complain and ask for a supervisor, we'd all just look at each other and say "Hey, wanna be my supervisor?" and then someone else would take the call. So word to the wise, forethemostpart, there is NO SUCH THING as customer service. But, taking a chance that Qwest; being so interested in providing EXCELLENT customer service, would actually care that they had a failing employee, I told the supervisor that in the course of 30 seconds, Patrick was rude, disrespectful and insulting. I encouraged him to play back the tape and explained that I didn't know we all had to be IT aficionados in order to purchase Qwest's services. It was absolutely fine for me to have questions and Patrick in his infinite wisdom didn't understand that. Patrick, who is SO SUPERIOR that he has to work in CS for Qwest; guess he must have just moonlighting from his job at the think tank.

Anyway, it turns out that in fact Qwest was only offering 1.5 MB's which does seem significantly slower than Cox' 7; so for now I'm going to stick with Cox. I tell you though, it all goes back to that Squeaky wheel syndrome. People just don't care about their mediocre jobs; and I find it SO sad that this punk would fancy himself so smart that he would believe that he could get these insults by me without me even noticing; but he messed with the wrong one. I am the Queen of Wise cracks and smart talk and I'm usually pretty quick on my feet when it comes to a sassy retort; but this was just totally uncalled for. Like I said; I was even cheerful goddammit.
I'm not sure what it is about me that invites "customer service" people to insult me without provocation; but if there is a mishap to be had, ya' know, I'm gonna have it. That's me Queen of Mishaps. Queen of Incidents. But definitely, without a doubt; NOT Queen of Computers.

Till next time...

Sunday, September 9, 2007

I'll Admit It...

Disclaimer: Some of you may have already heard this story, though I told precious few due to the high embarrassment factor and fear of my husband finding out. That being said; this is the SAFEST place for this story to be told.

Thursday night I got a call from Tiffany around 945pm. Tiffany was very apologetic for calling me that late; since I've been getting up at 415 to work. Tiffany said that she didn't realize what time it was, but she had important news that she needed to share with me right away. I told her that it was absolutely fine to call me at that time and asked what the big news was. Well,there was this scrapbooking store that had gone out of business a few months ago, and the owner was now going to have a garage sale to sell off the rest of her inventory. Now this was BIG news. Tiffany said that the sale was supposed to start at 6am on Saturday morning, but she was going to call the woman to see if she and some friends could go on Friday. All you non-scrappers probably had no idea that scrapbooking was such serious business, but trust me, it is not only the act of scrapbooking that scrappers love, it is also the shopping for scrapbooking supplies, the organizing of scrapbooking supplies and yes, probably most of all; the THRILL of getting some outrageous deal on scrapbooking supplies. Yes, most of us do realize that we have a problem, and of course as with any addiction, the first step is admitting it; but then we shop.

Well, I quickly got to my computer and forwarded Tiffany's email to all of my scrapbooking friends. The responses came in fast and furious, and several of my friends responded that they planned to be at the woman's garage at 6am. I could not; but I had hoped to go later on Saturday, knowing that I was risking slim pickings. I was talking to Lesa G about the possibility of going and could not help but remind her of our trip to a similar garage sale a few years ago.

So, I think it was about 2 years ago that my favorite scrapbooking store at that time, closed. A few weeks or months later, I really don't remember which; the owners sent an email alerting it's faithful patrons that they would be having a garage sale to sell off all of the inventory that hadn't been sold during their going out of business sale. Lesa G and I planned to go the garage sale; I even got a babysitter. I met Lesa by the Bank of America not far from the garage sale address and we drove over to the sale together. By the time we got there; not much was left. I would definitely classify it as a waste of my time; and money, since I had actually paid a sitter to watch my kids so I could shop. Well, we got back to my car and I was saying goodbye to Lesa but could not find my keys. Lesa suggested that maybe I had left them at the garage sale and was prepared to drive me back over to check; but I said, "before we drive back there, let me just check my car to make sure I didn't leave the keys inside." I hadn't left the keys inside my car in years, but something inside my stomach sank as I peered in and saw that not only had I left my keys LOCKED inside my car, BUT the car was ON. Oh My God! What a complete and total idiot I am. And there sat my locked, running car right outside a bank no less. Oh, I am a piece of work!! Now say it with me "Who could make this stuff up?" OK, so I tried to think fast because the last thing I wanted to do was explain to my husband how I was so careless. Hell, I didn't even want him to know that I paid a sitter to go to a scrapbooking sale. Well, it was at this point I realized that I had a SERIOUS problem. I mean, was my addiction that bad that I could have been so anxious to get to the sale that I jumped out of my car, with the keys still in it and never turned the car off? I did however, lock the door; THANK GOD! For sure my car wouldn't have been there when I got back, had I not LOCKED THE DOOR.
Anyway, in trying to figure out how to avoid calling my husband, I realized that the passenger side window was sightly open; and though I am a BIG girl, my slender arms were able to fit through the opening and unlock the passenger side door. Hallelujah! There is a God.

Now Lesa G, good friend that she is, didn't laugh hysterically in my face at the time; though I know the mere mention of this incident must give her the giggles for a good 10 minutes. I was very selective in who I told this story too; because even for me this was a little TOO embarrassing; and to this day my husband has never found out; and I'd like to keep it that way.

Till next time...

Saturday, September 1, 2007

Why Disney?

Disclaimer:This blog is not your typical Bumpy Ride. In other words, it's really not that funny; it's just intended to give you some food for thought and hopefully leave you hungry for more.

I am a HUGE Disney fan. Oh, I like the movies OK, but when I claim to be a HUGE Disney fan, it is really more about being a fan of Walt Disney World, than anything else. I LOVE Disney World; it makes me happy; it's fantastical and beautiful, and clean. The air is sweeter, the food tastes better and their attention to detail is phenomenal.
My parents took me to WDW for the first time when I was in the fourth grade and I went AT LEAST once every other year until my husband and I moved to Arizona when I was 29. One summer, back in the day; the day being the late 80's, when I was still living in New York and pre-husband; my friend/sister Michelle and I were going to take a vacation. We planned to go to Laguardia airport and just get on a flight somewhere; but unfortunately, Michelle wasn't great at reading a map, so she directed us to JFK instead of Laguardia and since JFK was (still is) an international airport we couldn't afford any of the last minute flights; so we just got in my car and drove to Disney World instead. Then a few years later; though still back in the day, during one cold winter; a friend and I were running errands and we decided to try my airport stunt again; but she and I went to Newark airport. Once again I didn't know where we were going to wind up; we just wanted to get on a flight and go somewhere. The ticket agents were kinda impressed with our spontaneity, and came up with a reasonable fare for, you guessed it - Orlando. So we went to Disney World. We bought some clothes and toiletries when we got there. It was quite the adventure; but back to the husband. My Prince Charming (though these days he's more like My Captain Hook) and I were married in Disney World AND then we even moved to Orlando; which my husband used to refer to as Bore-lando; if you can believe it. Anyway,since it's been 10 years since we moved; I am suffering with terrible WDW withdrawal. We're planning to go there Christmas 2008 god willing but it is hard for me to wait. Addict that I am, I've gotten several quick fixes by going to in my opinion the inferior, Disneyland, but it's just not the same.
My latest fix was just a few weeks ago, and our impending trip was the topic of many conversations with friends. During some of these conversations, I did admit that I feel a little guilty being such a Disney fan since they clearly have something against 2 parent families, but nonetheless, my addiction wins out. If I don't stand in those long lines, pay too much for bottled water and walk till my feet feel like they're going to drop off, I'm just not happy. Now, I know that I am not the first person to recognize Disney's affinity for single parented characters, but I would like to point it out for those of you who haven't thought about it before; so let's take a look..
Snow White, she only has a step mother Wicked Queen at that, Cinderella, only has a step mother; another witch, Bambi, now he had his Momma, and Momma only; but she died. Simba starts out with 2 parents and shortly into the movie his dad dies. Nemo lost his mom before he was even born; so that leaves him with his dad only. Sword in the Stone - well Arthur was pretty much a ward of that mean guy,but not his parents; same with Sleeping Beauty, Briar Rose has 2 parents but she had to be raised by those fairy ladies. Mogli and Tarzan were both raised by animals; and if memory serves, the animals were single parents too. Parent Trap, now they had 2 parents, but they were divorced; and I must say that if Disney had left well enough alone, and not remade the brilliant Haley Mills original, then perhaps poor Lindsay Lohan wouldn't be in the predicaments she's in today. LOL But I digress... Jasmine, has her father the Sultan, but no mama in sight; same with Ariel, she has King Triton, but no mommy. Andy in the Toy Story movies, he's got Mom, but none of the toys ever mention Dad. Chicken Little; he has his Papa, and Remy in Ratatouille has his Pop. The Incredibles; now they were a two parent family, but really, can you think of any others? Don't say The Darlings, because the kids are off in Neverland for the whole story; and basically parentless for the entire movie. And while I'm at it, I guess I should add; not a lot of siblings in these stories either. So I ask you, what did Walt or do present day Disney execs have against 2 parent families? God knows they make enough money off of us. Would any of those stories have actually suffered if there were two parents involved? I don't think so; but then again, that's why I write a blog that 20 people read,and not Oscar nominated Disney scripts; YET!!
Till next time...

Sunday, August 26, 2007

Only Me

Last night my kids and I went over to a friend's house. I won't say which friend because I know that she feels TERRIBLE about what I am about to tell you; but it is a crucial part of my story so it must be told.
The other day my girls got these new flip flops at Old Navy. They were on clearance; and I am Queen of Bargains, so we couldn't resist. They were like the platform flip flops and they had a cute jeweled flower thingy by the toe; and my girls just thought they were FABULOUS. I had my reservations, because being MY daughters, they have a proclivity for clumsiness and this just seemed like an accident waiting to happen; but nonetheless we bought the flip flops.

Now back at my friend's house, we all left our shoes by the door as we are accustomed to doing, and we went upstairs; but her dog didn't, and she decided to make a meal out of one of my older daughter's flip flops. As previously stated, my friend could not have felt worse. I assured her several times that it was no big deal, but she insisted on paying me for them so that I could buy a new pair. I waited till after dinner to break the news to my daughter. I tired to be lighthearted and funny about it; but my daughter did not take the news of the demolished flip flop well. She's not usually a crier, but this girl was sobbing and heaving and I don't know if I felt worse for her or my friend because I knew this just added to her unnecessary guilt.
I promised my daughter that even if I had to go to multiple Old Navy's to find her a pair (remember, they were on clearance;) I would. My friend then insisted on paying me almost double what they cost; just in case I needed to drive to more than one Old Navy.

OK, so I am a runner; pick your jaws up off the floor people who know me, I don't mean runner in the sense that would be good for me, like one who runs for exercise, I'm a runner as in I run all over the place for like errands and stuff. I am Queen of Returns; I don't even want to tell you things I have returned because you may have been the unlucky soul to have bought the pair of ballet shoes that my daughter peed on and I took back; but you get the point. Anyway, I like to get as much done in one day as possible; I just Go, Go, Go. My husband hates that by the way; 2 errands a day and he's spent. But I mention this because you need to understand my schedule for today and how it was not unusual for me AT ALL.

So upon leaving the house around 1030 - I think; we headed off (me and my 3 kids) to the first Old Navy stop. Nope, no flip flops in her size. I then offered, "well, how bout if we try Payless; because they may have those Hello Kitty flip flops that you wanted and you could get those instead." She agreed. But alas, no such luck. We then went on to Girly Girlz to buy a present for her classmate whose party was at 2. From there we drove out to Super Target which was a good 15 minutes from where we were (tons of construction too - woohoo!) We went to Super Target because 2 weeks ago I saw these pink and black cleats and I thought they would be adorable for my girls for soccer; but I didn't know if our league was going to let my little one play so I wanted to hold off on buying any until I went to registration. I went to registration on Saturday morning; and so far it seems that they are going to let her play, so I was anxious to buy the cleats before they sold out. OK, so the girls try them on, we're about to put them in the cart; but first I turn one over and look at the bottom and think to myself these don't look the same as the cleats from last year. Then upon looking more closely at the box, I notice that it said "baseball cleats." Way to go Queen!! Now I get to break the news that the cleats I had talked up, and drove out there especially for; could not be purchased. I was batting a thousand - maybe I needed the baseball cleats - da da don ching (that was like the sound of cymbals crshing in case you didn't figure it out.)
Moving right along... So now we are off to Old Navy # 2. Mind you, it was NO WHERE near where I was and I was unaware of a shortcut at the time, so it took me a good 25 minutes to get there; and you got it - no flip flops. There was a Payless in the same plaza so we tried there for Hello Kitty, and she actually found a cute pair of sandal flip flops that were marked down to $4, same price as the ones I was trying to replace - Perfect; but it's BOGO at Payless so of course I wanted to find another item. I knew that I was in need of new flip flops, so I started looking at something for me; which is no easy task with my size 12 feet that actually seemed dare I say it, to have gotten a tad bigger. So I slipped a flip flop off, tried something on, no dice, a little too close for comfort, so I tried again, same deal. I was ready to head off to guy's flip flops when I saw a cute pair on the size 12 women's shelf. I tried one on, then I went to try the other, and OH MY GOD, I looked down and this whole time I had been out running my ass off in 2 different flip flops. Oh my god, who does this? What kind of moron am I? Go ahead, laugh, I did, Rachel did, because I was on the phone with her when I made this discovery. I mean oh my god; this kind of thing is cute when a kid chooses to do it and they maybe have one pink and one blue or something like that, but yah; I had one black sprarkly flip flop (which even my friends dog passed over because it was in such crappy shape) and then my other flip flop was brown and pink with a bit more height to it then my black sparkly one. You get the picture, there was NO WAY that I could pass this off as a fashion statement.
WOW! How embarrassing. SO figure I'd been to Old Navy, Payless, Girly Girls, Target, Old Navy and Payless all with this wonderful shoe situation. How my kids never noticed is beyond me, because they are my biggest critics and notice everything.
So I bought my new flip flops and called my husband on the way to the birthday party; and his words were ones I'm not unfamiliar with; "ONLY YOU."
Once we made it home, I showed him the flip flops and he wanted to make sure that I hadn't worn them to the party. I said "no," but then he needed the run down of where I'd worn them because he thought I should steer clear of those places or at least he wanted to. We were getting ready to go to Sprouts, so he asked, "You didn't wear them to Sprouts did you?" I said "No;" So he agreed to go there with me. My younger daughter asked me to wear the again, but I thought better of it and said "NO."
I'm telling you; I really am my own worst enemy; but really, say it with me "WHO COULD MAKE THIS STUFF UP?"
Till next time...

Friday, August 24, 2007

I'm Collecting Lisa's...

Disclaimer: I know that it has been FOREVER since I wrote a blog, and now that my kids are back to school and I’m working from home at least 3 days a week; I am dedicating myself to more blog, more blog, more blog. I do have LOTS and LOTS in store for you so PLEASE stay tuned; but for today, I’m going to ease you back into the ride slowly, with this little anecdote…

Back in the day, the day being when I was single and dating; almost every guy I met seemed to be named Rob. It was kinda nice when dating more than one guy because this way I didn't stand the risk of calling a guy by the wrong name; but it did get a little confusing when they called. Well, now that I have no Rob's in my life, it seems that I am collecting friends named Lisa.
On Saturday night I was going scrapbooking and my husband asked me who was going to be there. I replied, “Michelle, Jenny, Mari, Lori, Lisa, Lisa and Lesa.” Believe it or not I have one more friend named Lisa, but she wasn’t there that night. Currently we refer to the Lisa’s by their last Initials, so at least for scrapbooking purposes we have Lisa B, Lisa D and Lesa G of course all the last initials have to rhyme as well, it’s not like we could have Lisa R, Lisa S and Lisa B. No, that just wouldn't do.

Lisa B works for Honeywell and she has an ebay jewelry business called Fancy Treasures you should check it out.
Lisa D is an HR Manager for Bashas and she is the author of the Quest books. Visit Questbooks.com for more info if you are interested in fantasy fiction – not just any type of fantasy you perverts, it’s like other dimension kinda fantasy.
Lesa G is the team services Manager for the Phoenix Coyotes and the local lacrosse team as well but good friend that I am I forget the name of the team.
Lisa M, I know from when my son went to Gymboree and currently she is a student.
Like the nice, shameless plugs for my friends? Now, back to my story...

Well, I was talking to Tiffany the other day and she asked me who had been at scrapbooking. I ran down the list and identified each Lisa for her, as she also has a hard time keeping them straight. Most people do. I told her that I was thinking of just giving them other names, like the Vietnamese nail ladies do. It seems that they have all chosen to call themselves Tina or Tammy or Kim. But alas, we have a Tina in our group as well; so I can’t go that route. But then it dawned on me, I think we should call the Lisa’s by the Vietnamese names that the nail ladies aren’t using. So the next time anyone asks who was at scrapbooking I can just say, Michelle, Jenny, Mari, Tiffany, Lam, Mai, Nam Ha and Tuyen. Yes, I did my research and those are actual Vietnamese names. I thought of calling one Phuo.ng because it means Phoenix, but it would just be too hard to pronounce and we’d wind up having to refer to that one as Tina.
Till next time…

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

My Disorder...

On Friday night I was talking to my brother on the phone and he asked me if I had blogged about my disorder yet. I laughed and replied, "I don't know that I plan to - it's embarrassing." Then I thought to myself, well, perhaps I will; I mean it's not like I don't write about embarrassing stuff (about myself) all the time. I mean if I can tell you about being a lazy ass and getting a check stub caught in my teeth, I can tell you that 2 weeks ago I had a double skin infection on my abdomen (so to speak) that was both fungal and bacterial; it was painful as hell, required 2 excruciatingly embarrassing Dr's appointments which resulted in me being given 2 different creams, strong antibiotics and instructions to let it air in the air as much as possible. Translation: sit naked under the fan as much as possible, and with that; the Dr. wrote me out of work for a week. OK so I freely admit, this WAS NOT a pretty sight; and I just thank god that my children aren't old enough yet to be completely horrified by the spectacle of their mom sitting half and sometimes totally naked on the couch for a friggin week - OY! One of my worst nightmares. Have I previously mentioned that I DO NOT know how to relax? I am constantly on the go and just don't seem capable of actually relaxing. Don't get me wrong; I often do things that I love and make me happy, it just never seems that I am relaxed while doing them. I love to scrapbook, but then I agonize over how long it takes me to come up with the perfect layout. If I'm sitting on my couch watching TV it's usually because I am folding laundry or paying my bills; so being told to take care of my "disorder" in the manner that it needed to be taken care of, was quite contrary to how I live my life - but I did it, and of course I went back to work earlier than I was supposed to because I am the Queen of Responsibility and I knew that I had too much work to do to be at home. My "disorder" had completely cleared up (which my 5 year old daughter told me was because of her. When I asked how it got better because of her, she explained that she asked God to come and make my "douchie" better. Douchie has evolved into our family word for VaJJ; ) so I went back to work. Well kinda. I worked from home on Monday, went in Tuesday, worked from home on Wed which was the 4th and right before we left for our friend's house, I started to get a wicked sore throat. My sore throat woke me up at 215am at which point I considered going to my office but I thought my bosses would freak when they saw my time clock, so I toughed it out and went in at my customary 530 am. Then, on Thursday night I was giving my daughters a bath and when I went to dry my older daughter off, I noticed that she had a bad rash and dare I say it, a yeast infection? She's five. No five year old should have to endure the agony that is a yeast infection. I called the pediatrician in the morning and she assured me that this was quite common in the summer w/ swimsuits and all and she told me how to help my daughter. Well, I don't know if it was the power of suggestion, or dealing with all of the yeast, but all of a sudden I found myself feeling itchy. It was at this point that I feared I was a hypochondriac and asked my daughter to talk to God about making her douchie better. I told her that God must be wondering what was going on with the Douchies in our house. When the sore throat woke me up at 630 am, I knew I would be paying yet another visit to my Dr's office though I was totally embarrassed to have to be seen again so shortly after my "disorder." I attempted to swallow my pride - but god my throat hurt. I packed up the kids and went in for my appointment. The nurse or assistant or whatever you call them, went to do a throat culture. I panicked for a moment remembering my childhood when it took 3 nurses to hold me down for a throat culture; but as my kids were in the room, I suddenly put my fear aside and became Super Mommy, UNTIL the nurse took so damn long to get the culture that I was kicking and gagging and reached for her arm to stop her. She pulled out (not something you hear often - ha) and informed me that she had to get the culture from my tonsils. I then informed her "I don't have any." OK my confidence in her was a little shaken. She attempted the culture again, which culminated in me gagging like my 8 year old would. I composed myself and asked if they were going to want a urine sample because I NEEDED to go give one. She said "OK, leave it just in case." When my PA - Susie came in; she told me that I didn't have strep; which I thought was a good thing, but she explained "not really; because if it was strep I could give you an antibiotic and for a virus I can't." She then proceeded to look at my throat and I kid you not she looked in, and jumped back (just picture Kramer from Seinfeld in this role;) she said "Oh my god! I don't know how that culture came back negative, but I'm treating you for strep." She said that the rapid test was negative but she was sure that if it was sent to a lab it would come back positive. She then diagnosed a lovely sinus infection in addition to the strep?, and checked the urine screen to confirm a urinary tract infection as well. Although I was dismayed at my luck, I was actually relieved to find out that I in fact was NOT a hypochondriac and I had legitimate, founded ailments. So I won myself a big ole shot in the tush and 2 weeks worth of antibiotics. See what happens when you stay home for a week and do nothing. My body obviously didn't know what to do with itself so it manifested all 3 illnesses. Well since I can't relax, there was no way I was going to let strep?, a sinus infection or UTI stop me; and we kept to our schedule as if nothing had happened. Saturday night we went to my friend Lisa D's and then Sunday, since my husband had taken a rare day off from work,we went up North with our friends David, Jenny and their 3 kids; to beat the heat and spend the day outdoors. Can you say Bumpy Ride? For as long as I can remember, I have held the VERY strong conviction that Jews don't camp. I believe that we probably spent so much time crossing the desert from Egypt to Israel, that an aversion to camping is something that is now passed down in each Jews genes. If any of you are Jews who camp; feel free to contradict me; but I will say that my theory has also been supported by my husband's boss; who is also Jewish. My husband was at work one day and a conversation about camping ensued. My husband said "my wife says Jews don't camp;" to which his boss replied "she's right." Well about a year ago we went up to the lake for my son's Boyscout cookout. Really it was a Boyscout overnight camping trip, but I told the scout leader that my husband would have to work during the day (true) and that we didn't have any camping equipment (true) and that I really didn't consider myself a camper (Damn straight!) I had proposed that we come up for dinner and she said this would be just fine; and that she wished she could just go for dinner too because she didn't really like camping. Well, when we got there, I was truly amazed at what I saw. Tents, nice tents with air mattresses and many comforts of home. There was no sleeping on dirt with bugs crawling on you as I had previously imagined. This actually looked OK. And to my disbelief I found myself saying to my husband "Now, if we could go camping like this - tent, air mattress etc. I think I'd camp." Oh my god - is this the first step to conversion or what? OK, be calm, be calm. That was over a year ago and we have yet to invest in as much as a lantern. Though we have thought about it; especially because we now know a few families who like to camp; and we have said that we would be interested in trying it out. In August we're planning to go to Disneyland with David and Jenny's family; and we were hoping to spend a night or 2 in San Diego while David and Jenny stay there in their camper. They said that they have all kinds of tents and stuff that we could borrow, so I called the campground to find out how much it would be to get a space for a tent, and suffice it to say that $236 is a little too much for me; when I was only thinking of camping as a cheaper alternative to a hotel. Hell no, for $236 I'll take a real bed, a shower, cable and some little shampoos that I can steal from the hotel - thank you. But I digress (back to Sunday...) We took a scenic drive to Prescott, then Williams, had lunch at a really good pizza place worthy of my NY pizza snob palette and headed on to Flagstaff. We had planned to take the sky ride, which is really the ski lift at Snowbowl in the winter. Our destination was what my husband told me was the highest point in Arizona; 11,000 feet above sea level. I was all for it - UNTIL I saw the sign warning that if you were pregnant (not) or had a heart condition (not to my knowledge) you may want to reconsider taking the ride. OK, so I didn't have either of these things to worry about but that didn't stop me from panicking. I almost backed out, using my sinus infection as my excuse - don't ask me what I was thinking. Did I think my nose was going to explode - I dunno, I just know that I got nervous and I had left my asthma inhaler and my Xanax in the car and there was not enough time to go get them because the ride was going to be closing in a few minutes - of course. I agreed to be a trooper instead of Queen of the Wusses, and got on the ride with my 3 year old daughter and proceeded to have a full blown anxiety attack. I remember thinking; I wish that she and I weren't in the last lift of our group. I wish that I was in front of my husband so that if my head blew up or I collapsed, he'd know about it; but unless he was secretly Spiderman and going to be able to throw a web and make it over to my lift - really, what would it matter? I kept telling myself, "relax, take in the beauty "- yah right. My 3 year old wanted to know why there were so many fallen trees. She told me that she thought evil witches had made them fall down. I think it was my sheer delight in having such rare, private moments with her that actually wound up calming me down. All of a sudden I gave in to my fear and relented. I thought if I am going to die here and now, it's God's will. Pretty heavy for a simple ski lift, but alas this is my busy mind at work. My husband kept looking back to check on us and more than 3/4 of the way up he shouted "we're almost there." I sighed with relief as we continued to climb the mountain and then - WE MADE IT!! I was alive! I did it! I was proud and able to really enjoy the beautiful view. I knew that the ride down would be MUCH better than the ride up because I now had nothing to fear and I was riding with my 8 year old son and 5 year old daughter who were not going to shake the lift or climb around as my 3 year old had tried to. I took in the beauty,the quiet and revelled in the sound of the wind blowing. It was a good day; but it wasn't over yet... After we got off the mountain, we headed over to a lake (as if I hadn't had enough outdoors for one day.) My husband had remembered to bring fishing poles for the kids, but forgot to get some hooks. Oh well, I thought, I guess we'll just have to enjoy another beautiful view for a few minutes and get the hell outta Dodge; BUT NOOOO, my resourceful man went scavenging by the lake and found some hooks that people had dropped. Next thing I knew he was digging for some worms so the kids would have bait. There was no turning back now. I knew it was going to be a while so we got out the folding chairs and tried to make ourselves comfortable. My son had made his way onto a rock and was sitting peacefully enjoying the view. He asked if her could take his flip flops off so he could put his feet in the water and I said "OK." Jenny's girls (also 3 and 5 like mine) then asked if they could put their feet in the water, but Jenny said "No." Her 5 year old seemed to take it well, and walked away and got her new shoes caught in the mud. She wanted to rinse off, but it just didn't seem possible. I suggested "in my infinite outdoors/camping wisdom" that she just have her daughter put her foot in the water shoe and all. I guess Jenny didn't think that my idea was so bad because she proceeded to climb out onto the rock that my son had been on, lifted her daughter over, and rinsed off her shoe. Well, I guess it didn't matter to the 3 year olds how or why Jenny's 5 year old got to put her foot in the water, just that she did; and with that, my 3 year old, got herself stuck, and I mean stuck in the mud. Devoted mom that I am; I immediately tried to get over to help her because she had now announced that she had to pee and my husband was convinced that she WOULD NOT make it to the bathroom. In rushing over to my daughter's aide, I too got STUCK in the mud. Now picture this, I'm stuck, can't move and I'm trying to get her underwear off, and help her pee in the water. I think this is when David started taking video on his cell phone. My daughter peed, and I rinsed her off, but I then wanted to rinse myself off; so I dislodged my foot and attempted to climb out onto a rock and ALMOST fell right in - I am NOT the Queen of Balance. I realized that this wasn't a good plan, and stepped back out of the water INTO the mud. I thought I'd give it the old college try one more time and repeated my effort to climb out to the rock and dip me foot in the water; but I still wasn't feeling confident and climbed back out into the mud again. OK say it with me "Jews don't camp." I'm not even convinced that we (I ) shouldn't be banned from outdoor activity altogether. I made it out of the mud and my prince of a husband let me sit in my chair and he took my flip flops into the water and cleaned them off for me; as well as my feet - god do I love that man. Then the man that I love told me that he was surprised that I didn't fall right into the lake and that if that would have happened he would have laughed his ass off. I had to agree, I thought I was going in, and I would have laughed too. I think that David and Jenny might want to reconsider any future outdoor activities with me; as when it comes to "disorders," my dual skin infection may just have been the tip of the iceberg - but hey, I am good for a laugh.
Till next time...

Thursday, June 14, 2007

Lucy Incarnate

OK, I know that I have previously likened my life to an I Love Lucy episode and here is a prime example of why:
Try as I may; sometimes common sense just does not prevail. Lately I have been quite diligent, if not obsessed with flossing my teeth with these well, floss picks; if you will. So anyway, today while I was at work, I thought that I felt something between my two front teeth and I kept trying to swipe at it with my tongue; but that wasn’t helping. It would have taken very little effort for me to reach down into my purse and get a floss pick; but no, out of sheer laziness, I guess, I opted to use the corner of a check stub that I was about to discard. (I know - GROSS; and actually I cannot believe that I am admitting this in type, but hey it’s all for the greater good and your amusement.)
Anyway, I gently tried to dislodge whatever it was that I thought I had between my teeth; by using the corner of the check stub, and then - the corner of the stub ripped off and got stuck between my teeth. (Why am I suddenly hearing the voice of Rosanne Rosannadanna right now?) In Roseanne Roseannadanna voice “So I said hey, Queen of EVERYTHING, get that little piece of paper out from between your teeth – you’re making me sick.” LOL (And for those of you who have no idea who Roseanne Roseannadanna is; just re-read and leave that part out, and I am sorry, cause you don’t know what you’re missing.)
Anyway, so the paper is stuck between my teeth and you have NO idea the panic that had now taken over my body. I felt like such a moron; and really, all I could picture was Lucy in the same type of situation. Oh my god, it’s just laughable.
Well now I had no choice. I had to bend down the whole 2 feet and reach into my purse to get the floss pick; and after a few minutes, relief was mine.
I’ll tell ya; for a smart girl, I manage to do some pretty stupid things; but at least I get to share them with you.
Till next time…

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

How to Catch A Hamburglar

Now this is getting interesting...
Last night I posted my blog about the McDonald's employee and her drawn on, arch eyebrows. I posted a disclaimer (as I have done before) in attempts to excuse myself in case I was insulting anyone who might be reading my blog; because I would feel terrible if I inadvertently hurt someones feelings. I have previously admitted that I am the Queen of Over thinking, to the point where I can just worry myself sick - because although I have been accused of being the Queen of Caustic; I am also the Queen of Sensitivity and I take things to heart way too much.
OK, so I emailed Rachel, Michelle (not yet legally ) K, and Tiffany to let them know that I have posted a new blog, because they usually like to beat the blogarithm- but this was done at about 1020 pm. So, this morning I had gotten an email from Michelle (not yet legally) K and she mentioned the blog; so I checked my comments as I always do, and there were 2, so I assumed that they were both hers, because she often leaves two. I emailed her to thank her and much to my surprise, she told me that she was NOT the Hamburglar and she asked who was. I said "I don't know; I was sure it was you;" but she said "hell no."
Now you see, the Hamburglar inferred that I didn't care about offending people and the way I originally took the comment was as if it was from one of my good buddies and they were making fun of me, so I thought it was funny; but as time came to pass I started to believe that this wasn't the case; and I became perplexed. I mean I'll admit that on a couple of occasions, I've gotten some comments and I wasn't sure who left them, but given the amount of clever friends that I have; this is totally understandable and I've always been able to find out who it was from; but something was now different about this one. It didn't feel FUN anymore.

OK, so the comment was left at 1233 am and I really wasn't sure who left it. It could have been Big V, but she's in Disney World this week and even if she wasn't, she's on the east coast so the time was all wrong. I emailed my brother and asked him if he was the Hamburglar - but he had no idea what I was talking about. Lesa G said that she wanted to leave a comment as Mayor McCheese, but didn't know how to. It wasn't Rachel, Tiff or Lisa B - so who??
Well, my husband and friends are all speculating; and interestingly enough, they all think it is the same person. We've even discussed trying to smoke out the Hamburglar; but how? I tried getting a hold of Michelle (not yet legally) K to see if she wanted to attempt combat with the Hamburglar; but I was unable to reach her. My good friend Lisa B offered to bait the Hamburglar in the comment area; (and buy, I can't thank her enough for being so sweet;) but since I really don't want any more repercussions, I thought I'd try this approach first.
I guess at this point I am just curious to know who the heck the real Hamburglar is, and what there intention was? I would also like to say, that in my defense, (if I need one;) I know that my humor is often sarcastic and yes sometimes at other people's expense; but I think that I tend to make fun of myself more than I make fun of anyone else. So I hope that you can all see it for what it is. I never wanted to make anyone grimace (haha, I couldn't resist.) (FYI - Grimace, you know; big purple guy that lives in McDonaldland.)
Till next time...

Monday, June 11, 2007

The Hairless Arches

Disclaimer: This blog is not intended to insult anyone who engages in the practice of complete eyebrow removal. I also offer my apologies for the title and welcome anyone to suggest a better one...

I have never really understood why some women choose to completely remove their eyebrows and then draw them back on. This concept is one that just alludes me. I know that back in the day it was a popular thing to do - I’m just not quite sure exactly when that day was.
I must say that here, in Peoria, AZ, it’s not a look that I see often; BUT today, I was astounded when I went to McDonald’s and the woman behind the counter, not only had her eyebrows removed and drawn on; but she had them drawn on in the shape of the McDonald’s arches - I kid you not. (Say it with me; “Who could make this stuff up?”) Man, this takes job loyalty to a whole new level that I have never imagined. LOL The woman was Caucasian, and very tall (at least I think it was a woman.) She? had a terrible haircut, and then really, the epitome of the McDonald’s arches drawn on for eyebrows. I must say that she? also wasn’t in a very good mood; but if I had those arches above my eyes, maybe I’d look like I was in a bad mood too - or just quizzical maybe…
OK, so I might just be a little more observant than most people; but I happened to engage in a conversation with another woman in the play area and in my typial fashion, I couldn't help but mention this woman’s? eyebrows and it just so happened that my new friend had noticed them too; and OK - we both laughed.
I really have no purpose for telling this story - I just feel that it’s my obligation to share these little out of the ordinary occurrences as they happen to me. I guess it’s mean of me to admit that it gave me a little chuckle, but you can all live vicariously through me and imagine what this woman? looked like. Just another day in the suburban desert. (Agghhh; why do I keep forgetting that I have a camera phone...)
Till next time…

Friday, June 8, 2007

The Queen's Big Coup

OK, I just can't keep this from you any longer. I've been wondering HOW I was going to tell you because this really is SO HUGE, and it needs to be presented as the ENORMOUS COUP that it is - and I am now ready to share the news, share my joy, my delight, my fantasy, my dream come true. Yes folks, believe it or not, I have met Maks; face to Gorgeous, HUNKY face, and he was AMAZING!!
Now I know that this is just flabbergasting news to some of you. Others are aware of my coup, but have yet to see the picture; and so I present my story and my photographic proof...

You know that forward that we've all gotten many, many times about friends coming into our lives for a reason, a season or a lifetime? You know it. It explains that sometimes you meet someone for a reason, and sometimes a friend comes into your life but only for a season while other friends are friends you'll have for life. Well, I've always liked that forward and this story is a perfect example of it...

It seems that my friend Jackie was a friend for a season; but also for a reason. I've previously mentioned that Jackie used to work in casting at NBC. Well, although she isn't in the business anymore, she is still a voting member of the TV academy and as such she receives invitations to special events which publicize shows for your Emmy consideration. Usually most of the cast of whichever show it is, appears at the function and they do a behind the scenes look, Q&A etc. etc.
Well, Jackie called me late one night and said "I have the perfect birthday present for you, but we have to act fast." I was half asleep when I heard her say "How would you like to meet Maks?" "WHAT" I shrieked nervously. To which she went on to explain that there was going to be a special "for your Emmy consideration" night for Dancing with the Stars, including a reception and dancing display; and as an early 40th birthday present, she wanted to take me to L.A. to go meet Maks.
OH MY GOD - I mean how often does this happen? My fantasy come true and wrapped up in an extraordinarily generous gift. How could I refuse?

We planned our trip and Jackie kept talking about taking my picture with Maks. I told her that I absolutely did not want to take my picture with him; and in fact I didn't want to get anywhere near him because I was just too afraid and nervous. I was like Duckie from "Pretty in Pink." I just wanted to be able to stand there and admire him. For me it was just like Guy Collura all over again. (There you go V - you knew it would be blogged about one day.) You see from the very first day of 9th grade until the day that I graduated from high school (if not longer,) I had a crippling crush on this guy, named Guy Collura. Now when I say "crippling," the crush was SO bad that when I would see him in the hallway - I couldn't even say hello. It wasn't that I was shy. I mean to some extent I was; but that didn't stop me from having my share of boyfriends, and then some. But there was just something about him that was overwhelming to me; I just liked him THAT MUCH, and I felt the exact same way about meeting Maks. I just wanted to admire him from a far. No picture, no introduction, just be in the room with him and watch him from a far.

The event began with the reception; but unfortunately they tried to fit 700 people in an area that was way to small for 700 people. I am NOT Queen of Dimensions, or Square Footage or anything like that; so I can't be exact. Let's just say that it was VERY crowded. 700 people just trying to shove past each other. Lots of old people, old people with bad face lifts and plates of Sushi, trying to squeeze through the crowds just to get a glimpse of someone from the show.

We were on the lookout for Maks and trying to stay out of harms way, when Jackie met the Oompa Loompa. That's right, "THE" Oompa Loompa. That one guy that played all of the Oompa Loompas in the terrible re-make of Willy Wonka. Then I saw Brian and Shandi; and whether you watched the show or not, you probably don't know or care who they are. I really couldn't have cared less about seeing them, and I was so close to Brian that he could have fathered my next child; yet I had nothing to say to them and didn't even desire a picture.
So let's move on. Things started to get interesting when I saw Stacy Keebler - the professional wrestler that was on 3 seasons ago. We met her and took a picture. (She was VERY nice.) Then we saw Edyta; one of my favorite professional dancers. We took a picture with her too. She was very genuine and VERY beautiful. While we were talking to Edyta, I turned my head; and THERE HE WAS. I could hardly keep my composure as I saw Maks across the room. I tried to speak, but I was so overwhelmed I could barely utter the words to tell Jackie that I had seen him; but somehow I managed to gleefully eek out "Jackie - Maks!!" and I pointed. All of a sudden I could feel my entire body blushing; but we wasted no time as we made a bee line right for him. All at once, it was as if the Red Sea had parted. I don't know where those 700 people went but suddenly we had a clear path to get right to him; just as if it was divine intervention or something. We walked right up to him and Jackie introduced herself - then introduced me. Jackie said "...I think she may be your biggest fan." Maks looked at me and said with the sexiest smile ever; "I think you're right. I think she is;" and then we took this incredible picture together. (All the while I was shaking like a leaf.)
After looking at the picture a couple of hundred times and upon reflecting - I actually think that Maks was referring to my size being big and not my adoration; so I was kind of upset with him for awhile - which is partly why I delayed in posting this blog. Yet even if he WAS so shallow and WAS making a fat reference; there's NO denying what an incredible picture he took with me.
I will forever be grateful to Jackie for giving me this once in a lifetime dream come true; and for the friendship that we shared for the season.
Till next time...

Monday, June 4, 2007

If I were Queen of the World...

OK, OK, so It's been quite a while since I've blogged - and it's not that I haven't had things to blog about; but for various reasons I haven't - blogged that is. So now the pressure is on. I'm back, and of course I feel like I really have to wow, ya - so here's a little insight into me. First of all; I SO appreciate the people who have contacted me asking "Where's the blog?" and I mean no ones writing me saying "I need a blog and it better be good. I need a blog and it better wow me;" Nope, it's just the pressure I put on myself, because I am Queen of Worrying, I am Queen of High expectations, I am the Queen of Over thinking. Stop nodding your heads close friends - I know my quirks, believe me I do.
So I figured, since I'm putting the pressure on for a WOW kinda blog; I'd better come out guns blazing . (IS that the right expression?) And how better to do it then; If I were Queen of the World - tall order, but here goes...

If I were Queen of the world, I would be paid a lot more money for the job I do; ( I mean, I'm Queen of Collections for crying out loud. I make my company A LOT of money and they DO NOT pay me what I'm worth.)
If I were Queen of the world, I'd be able to figure out what kind of job I can do, to make more money and still feel personally gratified. If anyone has any suggestions for me, I would LOVE to hear them; because unfortunately being Queen of Everything doesn't pay much - haha.
If I were Queen of the world, Saturn would be the only car company in business; although they would sell all kinds of cars. See what I'm getting at is; I HATE car salesmen. I think that it is TOTALLY unfair for them to try and get you to spend more money than you can afford to (because we've already established that I don't make enough money;) JUST so THEY can make more money. Why are car sales the only business left these days where we do business in this manner. I mean, OK back in the day, we used to haggle a little over the prices of houses, so this was how it worked. Seller marked the house up a little higher, buyer bid a little lower than the asking price; and ultimately they wound up somewhere in the middle. This doesn't happen with cars. You pull up, and the sharks approach your vehicle before you even get the engine off. You tell them what you want to spend; oh yah, they can do that, no problem - until you get to the table. Then they try to convince you to spend more than you can afford. So last week alone, I had one smarmy guy come up and say "so what have we been looking at?" Well, I don't know about him and what he'd been looking at; I know what my husband and I had been looking at and HE is certainly not a part of WE. He then continued his questioning, WE, WE, WE, and I kept correcting him. We CLEARLY told him that we were not buying a car that night as WE had just started looking. He said "you wouldn't take this car for $10,000" and I said "SURE I would, let's go" and he said "Have a good night." Ha! I won. Round one goes to the Queen; but you know I didn't have a clean get a way, because as we're walking to our vehicle, laughing about Smarmy, here comes "the manager." He tried to be suave and I found him slightly down to earth, so I engaged in a conversation, in which I told him that I thought Smarmy was a word that starts with P and rhymes with Rick; but I said the word. I won't bore you with all the details of this experience, but suffice it to say that after TOO much time at this dealership, we left, we did not buy a car, nor would we ever go back there. Why do they think they are so much smarter than us, just because they'd do whatever they can do to rip US off?
Ultimately we bought a Toyota, and it did involve a lot of haggling and negotiating; but at least we didn't feel like we'd been anally probed by the time we drove off in our new vehicle. Yet, nothing is perfect - right. I went to pick up my kids from my friend Kara and my husband waited for our new car. While I was driving I thought, "I hope he remembers to get our garage door opener," but of course he didn't have his cell with him - I mean Why would he? So when my husband arrived home, I asked "Did you remember to get the garage door opener out of our car?" To which he replied (ladies say it with me,) "NO." I told him that he would need to call the dealership first thing in the morning; and he did. A gentleman (yah right, a guy) who I will call RR said "no problem, we'll get the opener and it will be at the reception desk; pick it up anytime." So, on my way to work I stopped to get the opener and guess what? After waiting there for a half hour, I found out that they had given my opener to the wrong person. When I had walked up and asked for my opener the feeble older woman at the desk handed me one and I told her it wasn't mine, and believe it or not; she said "yes it is." I said "NO, I know what my garage door opener looks like. It's rectangular with a long bar. This is round with a button." Literally a half hour later they found out that someone had come in and picked it up, so yup, the wrong person took my garage door opener because apparently THEY don't know what their garage door opener looks like. SO, RR says "what can I do, can I fill your tank with gas?" I said "NO, I have a full tank AND I need a garage door opener." He told me to buy one and he'd reimburse me. So a few days later my husband bought one, we call the dealership to make sure RR is still there because it's 830 at night. He's still there. We drive over, pull up, shark comes to the car, I say I'm looking for RR to which he says "Oh, I think he left." I said "I don't think so, I just called and he was here, and oh, there he is sitting right there." I tried to get away from the shark but he asked my name and went in and told RR I was waiting for him. I went in and RR had a look of recognition in his beady little eyes, but he didn't know why. I waved my receipt at him, and said "garage door opener." He said "oh yah." I asked if anyone had brought my opener back, and he said "no." Then he asked if he could cut me a check tomorrow. I said "no." Then he got loud and told me that he had no accountant there to cut a check tonight. I asked what else we could do. He said he could mail it to me and I asked how long that would take. He said he'd mail it tomorrow; but of course I didn't believe him. I said I'd go ask my husband what he wanted to do; and as I turned to walk away I said "You know, this really isn't right. You guys gave my opener to the wrong person. You told me to bring you a receipt, I brought you a receipt, and now you want me to come back again to pick up a check?" RR got up in a huff and said "I'll go see if I can get you $25. If I had $25 in my pocket, I'd give it to you." Oh, my god. I saw RR drive off in a hummer the night I bought my car and he wanted me to believe HE didn't have $25. I'm sure he had just robbed someone else of $25 - of course he had it, slimy piece of crap. SO , a few seconds later he handed me $25. I guess RR didn't know he was dealing with the Queen of Arguing - no one can beat me - not even a slimy sales manager. Round two goes to the Queen...

If I were Queen of the world, I'd have time to scrapbook everyday, blog everyday, exercise every day (YES, I said exercise - now if your mouth just fell open; close it.) I'd spend quality time with my kids everyday, quality time with my husband everyday, and show my appreciation for all of my wonderful friends and family everyday. But, since I'm not Queen of the world, and I can't yet have all of these things; I'll just take this opportunity to thank ALL of my wonderful friends for all the love, support and encouragement that they give me. I am TRULY blessed to have such an amazing and diverse group of friends and I love you all very much!! Especially all of you who take The Bumpy Ride; not only on my blog but with me daily.
Till next time...

Monday, May 7, 2007

Queen Bee

OK, so I just have to share this.
I think that I have previously mentioned that on certain days of the week my kids drive to work with me; then my husband meets me at my office and he takes the kids home. I know, sounds like fun huh? So, when I arrived at work today, my husband informed me that there was yes, say it with me "A HUGE bee hive" in one of the trees in the parking lot. What was he doing while he was waiting for me; scouting out hives? He's turning into the Bee Hunter for crying out loud.
Anyway, when I went in to my office I told my boss that he would probably want to let the building management know that there was a big bee hive in one of the trees. I should add by the way that I had brought my camera with me to work; so that I could show some co-workers the pictures of my husband and VaJJ and the whole Un-BEE-Lievable story.

My boss went and got one of the building people and then came and asked me to show the guy where the hive was since up till now I was the only one in the building who had seen it. My boss then said " So for now, you are the Queen Bee." Ahh, how appropriate that the Queen of Everything would now be the Queen Bee; especially after the whole Bee Slaying Spectacular; boy will my husband bee jealous - haha OMG I can't stop myself now - I'm out of control. But I digress.
So I was speaking to VaJJ on the phone and I told her about this new development, and boy was she excited. I swear I could hear her salivating over the phone, just thinking of the possibilities of taking on another hive. Gosh, I really hate to say it, but this hive was HUGE, I mean the size of a human head (and remember -I DON"T EXAGGERATE - you must clearly see now why I don't have to.) Anyway, like I was saying, as confident as I am in my husband and VaJJ's bee slaying skills, I fear that THIS hive might actually be too much for them; so the building maintenance guy plans on calling their pest control. Hmm, what a novel idea...
The good news for my husband and VaJJ is that after seeing the pictures from the other night; my boss did say "Now I know who to call if I ever have a bee problem." Why do I suddenly get a vision of the lonely Maytag repair man in my head. Just picture my husband and VaJJ sitting by the phone, just waiting for someone to call with a hive for them to tackle. They can even have a slogan for their business...Got Bees?
Till next time...

Friday, May 4, 2007

Bee-lieve It or Not

So falling under the category of, I can't make this stuff up...
Last night VaJJ and I were sitting in my playroom chatting while my girls fell asleep. My husband was doing his husbandly duties, taking out the trash etc. when suddenly he came in to announce that we had a bee hive in one of the trees in our front yard. He immediately began to look around to see what he could use to remove the bees, and came out with some big spray thing that he uses on ants and such. I told VaJJ that in high school he had considered becoming a bee keeper, so I'm sure this just thrilled him no end; not to mention that this was just the kind of project that he loved.

He came back in advising that the spray didn't do a thing. VaJJ offered up, "I get free Terminex; I can just say that I moved." To which my husband replied very nonchalantly, I mean as nonchalantly as Ricky Ricardo can; "That's OK, I'm just gonna smoke em' out." OMG one could only imagine what this man had planned.
I'm not quite sure what he was doing, or how his initial "smoking plan" worked, all I know was it was followed up by spraying some water at them, and this didn't seem to work either.

OK so now he was serious, he said "I'm going to fire;" and he was looking around the house for something to cover his face with because apparently he had come up with a big plan and he was convinced that he was going to anger the bees which would result in them swarming him; which is why he wanted to cover his face. So he found nothing and opted for a big, white towel ( as anyone would - right?) LOL
VaJJ had told him to put pantyhose over his face, and I was holding out for a football helmet with the panty hose, but we had no helmet and he didn't even address the pantyhose idea. He and VaJJ negated my suggestion to put a paper bag over his face and cut two eye holes in, a la Unknown Bee Slayer. (That was an unknown comic reference for those of you who remember the Gong Show,) alrighty, so VaJJ reminded me that the bag would be flammable and my husband added "and the bees could get through the eye holes." OY! - are you peeing your pants yet?

So he grabs a can of lighter fluid and takes off outside with the big white towel draped over his shoulders, (please remember for those of you who don't know my husband we're talking a BIG guy, he's 5'9" and weighs about 280. Basically he looks like a Samoan football player or something - don't ask me why b/c this is not a customary look for a Mexican but lucky me, he's all mine.) Anyway, so he' goes out with the towel draped around him and he advises us to keep the door closed so that the bees won't fly in; and he adds "Look out because, I'll probably come running in." Well this was too good to miss; so upon VaJJ's advice, I grabbed my camera and we went outside, and there it was - my husband had made a HUGE tiki torch, that he was planning to use to burn the hive; yes, while it was in my tree. My husband told us to get in VaJJ's car and then instructed us to move the car because we were gonna be in the way, in case he had to come running.

So we're sitting in the car watching as my husband, cloaked in his white towel, takes the tiki torch to the tree. The visual on this was just TOO good - I only wish I had a video to share.
I kept telling VaJJ "see, I told you he should be on Survivor, who else could think these things up?" VaJJ did concur that if she hadn't seen it for herself she wouldn't have believed it and this would have made a GREAT audition tape. Anyway, within a few minutes my bee crazed husband had the hive On the ground, On fire. We hopped out of the car and watched him burn those bees. My Discovery channel watching man, informed us that "these were African bees; they're really, really mean and it's a good thing that it's nighttime." (Why did I her the departed crocodile hunter in my head when he said this? LOL ) Well VaJJ kicked into pyro mode and took the tiki torch from my husband and started to get in on the act. So there's my husband squirting more lighter fluid on them, VaJJ burning them with the tiki torch and me photographing this whole thing; and I should add that it was about 10 O'clock at night and I was in my pajamas and had no bra on - and after nursing 3 kids my boobs hang so low I could nurse a snake. LOL So A few neighbors drove by and I'm sure they were wondering what the heck was going on, but I'm not sure if they were more astounded by the sight of me braless or the whole goings on with the tiki torch extravaganza. "Hello HOA."

Wow, that was some unexpected excitement for a Thursday night. Now VaJJ and my husband want to start their own bee killing business; so if any of you ever have a bee problem - you know who to call. I can send you instructions on how to make your own tiki torch in case you live too far away for the bee slayers to get to you - although I think they'd fly out (VaJJ and my husband, not the bees;) cause they were SO into this, they couldn't pass up any opportunity.

Like I told you at the start of this blog; this definitely falls under the category of I can't make this stuff up; Bee-lieve it or not.
Till next time...

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Donkey Land

I've heard it been said that whatever kind of kid you were, you'll probably have a kid whose behavior is like 3 times what yours was - or something like that. So I guess it stands to reason that my son and my older daughter are just about as kind and cooperative as you could be; since fore the most part, I was a very good child. I rarely got into trouble (except for the time that I told my brother that he sucked and then for a punishment I had to go to Levitz furniture store with my parents - agghh torture.) I was a good student, NEVER in trouble at school, so all and all a good kid; and I've been rewarded ten fold, with really awesome children.
Now yes, I do have a third child; she is my BONUS baby. My husband and I conceived my younger daughter while I was nursing and on the pill. I absolutely HATE the expression "oops baby," because she was not an "oops," she was a gift from god that I wasn't planning on, but I adore and my family wouldn't be complete without her. My OB said there was a 1 percent chance that I could have conceived given the pills and the breast feeding factors, so he believes that she is destined for greatness; and I guess that we should have known then what a strong willed little fighter she would be. Let's face it - my younger daughter is a force to be reckoned with.

We have several nicknames for my younger daughter, but the one that epitomizes her true personality is the one that I gave her when she was just about a year old- "Stitch." You know parents, like Lilo and "stitch." Oh she is not always in "Stitch" mode, but when she is, WATCH OUT; she is Stitch personified. I can remember one day in particular when we were at Target, and she took off as many children will (right?) and my children and I were chasing her through the store (she was like one,) and I can still hear my other children's voices calling "Stitch, come back." OMG - I can laugh now, but gosh do I have my hands full.

Anyway, although she can be a little terror, she is also INCREDIBLY smart with the vocabulary of a much older child and the brain of a mad scientist. She can be very defiant, and very loving, very manipulative, and funny as heck - she's 3, what can you expect? But as the mom of 2 other children who never did any of the naughty, crazy things that she does, it also makes it much worse for her because as well behaved as the other 2 are; it magnifies everything that she does, to make her look that much worse. I TOTALLY recognize that but at the time when she is doing something ridiculously mischievous, it's kind of hard to remember - after all, I am the Queen but I am human and I am running out of patience.
Alot of the time I am very frustrated with her and then I get frustrated and angry with myself - she deserves better than that. I've gotten to the point where I really don't know how else to get through to her when she has done something wrong; and then it dawned on me; I need a Donkey land.

When my brother and I were growing up, he was the one always getting in trouble and so one day my parents told him that if he didn't start behaving himself, they were going to call Donkey land to come and get him. No I'm not high; Donkey land - like in Pinocchio when Pinocchio goes to Pleasure Island with that naughty boy and then they are all turned into donkeys, (oh, I hope this sounds familiar or this blog is just going to pot big time.) Anyway, the idea of Donkey land was pretty scary to my brother and I , so all my parents had to say was "should I call Donkey land?" And he would cry and get upset and promise to be good. My parents would even go so far as to pick up the phone and say "Hello Donkey land," as my brother sat on the stairs crying "no, no, I'll be good." To add insult to injury if my memory serves me correctly, I think my brother may have even had Pinocchio sheets on his bed, so the idea of Donkey land was always very prevalent in his mind.

Well, one night, my parents took it a step further and showed us where Donkey land was. They drove behind a small strip mall by our house, and there was a wooded area behind that, and they told us that Donkey land was in there. Woohoo!! - did that do the trick.

Oh Donkey land - just to think about it gives me a good laugh; but now I need a Donkey Land of my own. Something that I can use on my younger daughter so we'll see less Stitch and more of the loving, compassionate, smart, sweet girl that she is. When I figure this one out, I'll let you know. She's been giving me a good run for my money the past few days, but I am the Queen of IMPOSSIBLE SITUATIONS, so I feel confident that I will be working this one out soon. "Hello Donkey land."
Till next time...