That doesn’t mean that I’m kid “unfriendly” in a – “take them to a remote location and leave them for dead” kind of way – I would just prefer to view them from behind glass or some other safe enclosure. My mom used to tell me that she didn’t particularly like children. You would think that would suck a little since in fact, she had two – but in actuality it wasn’t that bad. My sister and I ended up with a mom who didn’t have to live vicariously through us – hanging on our every word, and telling her friends how smart we are because at 9 years old we managed to figure out the whole tooth fairy farce on our own. No – my mom is a realist, she believes in telling it like it is. I admire her for that.

When I was a kid the word “everyone” was a forbidden term. I used it frequently to expose her backward, hillbilly way of thinking. When I wanted a phone in my room – “everyone” had one but me. When I wanted to stay up past ten o’clock on a school night – “everyone” else was getting to. Everyone had a pool, everyone had bunk beds, and everyone had a mom who let them spend the night in a cemetery because it’s fun. I never got the penguin I wanted either.

My mother would just stand there calmly letting me ramble on with my evidence of “everyone,” before rolling her eyes and sighing… “Who exactly is everyone Melissa? How is it that you have come to know everyone hmm?? Then she would pull a National Geographic from the bookshelf and flip it open to the middle before shoving it under my nose. “How about these people here?? I suppose you believe that each one of them has a 1500 gallon salt water aquarium with sea otters as well? They don’t even have pants Melissa.”

In my Mother’s defense most of my wants were outlandish and unrealistic. Today, kids are a little more savvy and sophisticated; their wants and wishes a little less Disney and far more practical – I want a 55 inch TV in my room because when I car jack someone I need to really BELIEVE it – or – I need an iPhone because the lemonade stand business ain’t running itself and I need to check my google stats. It seems like nowadays kids go from preschool to high school and upon graduation expect to live in a large flat somewhere close to the metro where they can start their mornings at Starbucks alarming themselves with Dow Jones averages before they rush off to a meeting with Steve Jobs. Who the hell is gonna deliver my pizza in five years, that’s what I need to know.

Most of my friends live with their 20 something year old children who.. “have been looking for a job but they can’t get NASA to email them back.” I know life is short and you shouldn’t just settle for whatever, but it’s not “life-cycle of a butterfly” short and by all means feel free to take some crap jobs for a while – just until you can save up for the Hummer you will be living in.

No. As much as I love kids and the silly little things they say like, “Aunt Mary said you could carry a cooler on that ass,” I think I will just leave child rearing to the experts and to people who don’t mind fighting over the remote control with their 30 something, still living at home, waiting for his youtube video to go viral , son.

I prefer to spend the rest of my years finding some other way to make a difference in the world – and if I can sleep in on the weekends and have all the Corona for myself, then even better.

The past couple of months for me have been somewhat – “harried.” Then about 3 weeks ago, I had several missed calls on my phone from an unknown number. Curious…I called the number. It was to a mental hospital. I felt an immediate pang of paranoia for a moment, afraid that a concerned loved one might be doing something – “for my own good.” Fortunately most of the people I know, are themselves, one Froot-Loop shy of a bowl.

Anyway, my mystery caller called back and we had a D-E-L-I-G-H-T-F-U-L conversation…

Me: Hello?
Crazy: Who the hell is this?!
Me: Um…this is Melissa, who are you looking for?
Crazy: Carl.
Me: I’m sorry, there’s no one here by that name
Crazy: I don’t BE-LIEVE you Melissa
Me: (silence)
Crazy: The police are coming for you Melissa – I’m with the FBI and I have CONNECTIONS…do you hear me?! You’re nothing but a SLUT and a communist sympathizer and the JIG..IS..UP!
Me: I am NOT a communist sympathizer.
Crazy: Oh I know what YOU are but you don’t know what I am. You don’t know WHO I am and let me tell you something you’re not the only “chicken of the sea”…..charlie, charlie, chaarrrrlieee!
Me: Okay…is there something I can do – are you feeling alright ?
Crazy: Oh I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m just fiiiiiiiiine. Don’t you worry about me, your the one that the Po-lice is after. You just better watch yourself, your in some hot, hot water…….click.

So. The appropriate thing for me to do, would be to just block her number. But I can’t. I’m in too deep now. This shit is better than Big Brother & Jersey Shore combined. Driving home from work she called me 5 times but didn’t leave a message so the next time she called I answered the phone. As soon as I did she was screaming a fairly vulgar little diddy about my “Mama’s in hell and my brother’s in jail” then a string of obscenities that surprisingly, she managed to rhyme. I was a little impressed by that.

Anyway, If your interested, I uploaded a few of her messages to youtube. Enjoy:)

Ang and I went to JCPenny recently as we were wanting to purchase some new curtains for our guest room. It’s a rather large window so we had to “special order” the curtains which took about 2 weeks. You can imagine the excitement and anticipation we felt when we received the long awaited call that our drapery “was in.” Of course, Ang and I were a little disappointed that there wouldn’t be anymore sock puppet shows to put on for the neighbors out walking in the evening, but the privacy and modesty of Ang’s mother took presidence.

The problem started once we had the curtains up for about a day. Apparently, insulated lining and hot sun do not mix – but who would have thought that curtains of all things, would be toxic? I was not a happy customer and so I did what any dissatisfied consumer would do and I gave them….A BAD REVIEW.

Dear JCPenny:

I recently purchased curtains from the Cindy Crawford Home Embalming Collection. They’re a lovely green color – I believe the official name of the color is “oil green” and now I know why. After a couple of days I began noticing a pungent odor coming from my guest room. Once entering the room I was instantly assaulted by a strong petroleum & egg-like smell that actually blinded me for a few seconds. Blurry-eyed and a little dizzy, I decided that I would try washing them to see if that helped – but the volatile nerve gas was still present. I really liked the curtains and wanted to find a way to make it work, so I went out and purchased a HazMat mask – that seemed to help a little. I was having company in a few days so I wanted to “test” the room out first. Ironically, I fell asleep almost instantly, but when I woke up there was an unnatural amount of drool on my pillow and the left side of my face was completely numb. After speaking to a neurologist, the damage will more than likely be short-term but I was advised to wait awhile before trying to conceive. I decided to go ahead and return the curtains before I lost another fingernail.

I give these curtains 1 star.

It was around 9:30 a.m. this morning – Ang and I just finished our grocery shopping and were headed towards the car when a slightly plump guy of unknown sexual orientation rolled up beside us in his Kia Rio.

Guy: Excuse me, (directed to Ang), but I noticed you in the store and I have to say, I think you’re gorgeous – if your not seeing anyone, would it be okay if I get your phone number?”

Ang: Thanks but…

Me: Well, she’s seeing me actually – but I too appreciate the compliment.

It was obvious from the look on the guy’s face that he really hadn’t considered that we might be a couple (simple mistake, no big deal) So, he just said “Oh, Okay” and drove off. Ang was enjoying her moment. “He said I was gorgeous.” Although, we were both a little confused because the guy clearly seemed gay to us. Not gay in the – wears lingerie on the weekend and has a wallet photo of Joan Crawford – but he was about one syllable away from a serious lisp and was very ‘wavy’ with his hands when he spoke.

So we’re loading our groceries in the car when Rico Suave drives up again and stops.

Guy: Hey again…um…you really are beautiful and you, (referring to me), are not far behind. (not far behind…really…why is this man still single!) Anyway, it would make a guy really happy – would you two consider swinging??

He had his hands under his chin like he was waiting to blow out his birthday candles and I’m thinking to myself, “I might consider swinging a bat at your pudgy little Ted Bundy head.”

Me: Yeah…about that…you just went from complimentary to creepy in a few short moments. Quite frankly I had you pegged as a closeted gay man – they tend to be drawn to lesbians like erratic June bugs are drawn to a pool light. So, if you don’t mind I would appreciate it if you would just move along now.”

I wasn’t sure if he was embarrassed or just mad, but COME ON – how did he think that would play out?? Me and Ang would look at each other batting our eyes with ridiculous donkey grins on our faces – “Well, if you’ll give us a few minutes to run home and put away our dairy items, we’ll meet you back here by the guy grilling sausages in front of the patio furniture!”

I woke up the other morning to find the Sun actually sitting on my lawn. It had this condescending little smirk on its face too, like, “What are you going to do about it, huh…” Yeah well, In my head I was thinking – “I’ll show you Mr. Smarty Pants, I’m going to take my brand new dome tent and camp out at the wide gaping mouth of an active volcano…that would be FAR more refreshing. I might even take a jacket!

Lately, I’ve been wearing sun screen 24 hours a day. It’s just easier that way – I feel like over time I will eventually build up enough layers to form a hardened second skin. Either that, or my body will naturally produce Octinoxate on its own.

It’s your face that you really have to worry about – I’ve watched far too many friends of mine spending their 40’s looking like a rawhide treat.

I’ve decided that the safest and most cost effective plan, is to just buy a full-face welding mask. It’s a little heavy and your face will feel like it’s in a microwave but at least you won’t look like that lady from “Throw Mama From the Train.”

I was out shopping last weekend and instead of parking in the safety of a parking garage, was instead forced to park out in the “open.” Not a big deal, I’m used to keeping an oven mitt in my purse so that I can open my car door – but I forgot to take my sunglasses with me. Without thinking, I grabbed them from the console and stuck them on my face. I screamed loudly as my tear ducts were instantly cauterized.

Fortunately, we had enough rain in July to bring the temps down to less than the surface of the sun – It’s just a little bit more humid now. I’ve been in Texas long enough that I think I am finally adapting to the extreme summer heat. In fact, the last time I volunteered for clean up at the annual fire-walking conference, I accidentally wandered across some stray coals and I could barely feel the flesh peel from the bottom of my feet.

I guess you just acclimate to those sorts of things.