~~Skittering Thoughts~~

I've Moved!

noreply@blogger.com (Chickie) — Fri, 05 Sep 2008 22:02:00 +0000

Snoop With Me

noreply@blogger.com (Chickie) — Thu, 04 Sep 2008 01:55:00 +0000

alternate title: Now you know how strange I really am.

I spent a some time at my friend Elaine's house when I was on vacation a few weeks ago. Her Mama has recently went to stay in an assisted living place and her house is next door to Elaine's. She knows how fond I am of snooping and offered up Mama's house for my snooping pleasure.

I'd planned on going over there and spending a few hours leisurely poking through drawers but time got away from me and it got to be my last day there. I usually go to the place that I used to work at in Texas to say hi to some people and it was either go say hi or snoop.

Snooping won.

Elaine actually went to work and told everyone that I blew them off to snoop through Mama's house. I wish she hadn't done that. Now everyone really knows what a whackjob I am.

You can learn lots of things by snooping.

Mama's cupboard is very neat and orderly. Not surprising because she is one very put together lady. Whenever I see her she's always cute. Even if she's just in the yard or something.

It appears that she has a fondness for shampoo samples, soap samples & germX. It is good to be clean.

I was also able to see where Elaine gets her love of Clinque products. See that little white thing in the bottom of the photo? That's a little brush that folds out. Elaine had one and gave it to me last year after I organized her towel closet.

When I first got to her house, E was showing me around and pointing out places that I might want to snoop in. She told me if there was anything that I wanted to let her know. She was a few steps ahead of me in the hallway and I pointed at something hanging on the wall and said that I liked it just as she said "anything except Grandma's fan. Of course, I was pointing at Grandma's fan. That is something that she has to keep with her but she said I can have it when she dies. Elaine is 25 years older than me and has said that when I'm her age that she probably won't be around. I prefer to think that she'll live to be at least 100.

Poking through a clothing drawer, I found these things. My first thought was that they were urinal cakes. But why would a little old lady keep urinal cakes? Were they some sort of souviner? When I got brave enough to touch one I realized it was fancy soap. Not a urinal cake.

This was something I thought was really neat. They are brooches that belonged to E's Grandma and they are just stuck into that thing. Like a decorative pincushion. Very pretty.

Mama also had tons of jewelry. There was a brown drawer full of it and also a red drawer. I'd never seen so much dress-up stuff before.

She had a plate collection on one wall with some really neat plates. The oriental one was my favorite. For some reason, these figurines and jar really caught my eye. As I looked at the figures, I made up a short story about what they were doing. (He was asking her to dance and she didn't want to. She was getting ready to hide in the white jar.)

This is E's senior portrait. She doesn't want it because she says "why would I want to hang up a photo of myself" and I told her I'd take it and put it up because I love it.

I didn't get to have a relaxing snoop because time was short. It was maybe a good 20 minutes and I giggled like a lunatic the whole time. She had some cedar chests that I would have liked to have gotten into and I didn't even peek into the boxes in the closet. Maybe next year.

What, Do I Look Like A Leper?

noreply@blogger.com (Chickie) — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 03:06:00 +0000

Perhaps I have mentioned my OCD at dinner tables? When dining out, I like to have everything tidied away. When a friend came down a couple of weeks ago we went to Joe's Crab Shack and it was the best dining experience ever. I ordered crab legs and they came to you in a giant bucket. That giant bucket was turned into my trash bucket and not only were the crab leg shells plopped in there but also the used napkins and whatnot. Friend told me that when she saw the waitress set the bucket down and saw the gleam in my eye that she knew exactly why I was so pleased.

I go back to Joe's today and get the same waitress and she remembers me. Remembers me as the girl who liked having a trash can at the table. She even said, "Yeah! I remember you! With the touch of OCD!" And then she wanted to have a conversation about why I was eating alone.

Going places alone doesn't usually bug me. Until other people point it out and then it makes me feel like a total fucking loser.

Conversation with Sweety...

What did you do today?

Ate at Joe's Crab Shack.

Alone?

Yes. The crab was very good. And the dessert was tasty.

You actually sat down and ate alone?

Yes. Don't I need to fucking eat even if I'm alone?

Wow. Wish I had a picture of that.

WTF? So thanks, Sweety. Not only did the waitress make me feel like an outcast, you did too.

I took the plunge and got my own domain to host the blog from. I'm still figuring out how things work so it will be a bit before the move is made. I've spent the last two days at the computer just playing with things and finding out what I need to do. Right now, I'm in the self-taught class for WordPress Plugins: Making Those Bitches Work.

Finishing off with some photos of the Tasha Bean aka Stinky Dog. She didn't really want to pose for me at first but she perked up when she heard that she was secretly Cissy's favorite. She likes to look happy for her fans. She said to let you know that you can click the photos to view her in her full splendor.

Life Plan

noreply@blogger.com (Chickie) — Mon, 01 Sep 2008 04:03:00 +0000

Aunt Anna? I already have all of my careers planned out.

Plan A. Be an Olympic gold medal swimmer.

Plan B. Be a treasure hunter.

Plan C. Open a little Korean restaurant.

It's good to know that she's thinking ahead.

Saturday Night! See It Unfold!

noreply@blogger.com (Tiny Dog) — Sun, 31 Aug 2008 02:26:00 +0000

A little piece of me just died. Sweety insisted that we watch some of P. Diddy's video blogs. Don't ask me how in the fuck that happened. Now he is walking around the house saying to me, "That's Uncle Sean to you, bitch." He'll be lucky if I don't pluck his tongue out.

I'm trying to teach Tiny Dog to ring a bell whenever she needs to take a shit. So far, so not good. I ring the bell like a loon whenever I want her to go outside and say "outside!" in a chipper tone and she looks at me like I'm crazy. Surely she will catch on soon and make things easier by signaling her desire to piss outside instead of sneakily on a rug.

She knows I'm talking about her. I'm getting the evil eye.

Speaking of evil...

Do you think she looks creepy in this picture?

My sister said it looks like she's smiling evilly and she thinks if Tiny could move her toes that she'd give Sweety the finger in this photo.

Football is on the t.v. right now. Woo hoo.

Oh good. The team he wanted to win did.

Hi, Stinky Dog with the bloody ass! How are you? Oh, your hindquarters are sore where you chewed them today for the first time in forever? I'm sorry that you're an allergy ridden mess. Surely your new meds will go to work soon.

Niiice. I launched her onto the couch and she positioned herself so her medicated, bloody ass is touching me. Gack. At least she isn't nibbling anymore. I think we nipped it in the bud.

I finally get brave and install an instant messenger service on my computer and my instant messagee isn't online. Drat.

Sweety decided to do some reorganizing today. He took this little cabinet thing that had been in the garage and moved it onto the back porch. I was watching him through the door when he opened the cabinet and a swarm of fucking palmetto bugs came out and rushed him. As he fell back, I screamed and hid in the bathroom. He won. For a while, it looked like the Trail of Tears on the back porch but it was giant dying bugs. All of the rain we've had the past week or so really drove them in. I'm glad they used the garage cabinet as an apartment instead of moseying on inside.

Hey! I just remembered! Sweety has a long sheet of big-bubble bubbled wrap in the garage and it is positioned under his tire. He is going to run the car over it for me later.

No work for me for the next two days! Wootie woot!

It is now 11:38 p.m. and when I said earlier that Sweety's football team won? I was wrong. That must have been the end of the first quarter or something. The game is now over and they really did win. I'm not too up on football.

For the love of Dog, people!

noreply@blogger.com (Tiny Dog) — Sun, 31 Aug 2008 00:52:00 +0000

She had her moment to shine and now it is my turn! Bask in my glory, bipeds!

I hear that the bitch Chi Chi is on vacation and Mama can't wait for her to come back. What the hell is up with that? I am a far superior dog. As proof, I present to you my sack - it is the larger one on the right. How can a better dog fit in a smaller sack?

I will tell you how. It can't. I am bigger, therefore, I contain more doggy goodness. End of discussion.

Miscellany

noreply@blogger.com (Chickie) — Fri, 29 Aug 2008 03:33:00 +0000

Someone close to me^* got some really disheartening news today concerning their employment status and how their employer of several years views them. I am madder than a hornet's nest. It really goes to show that you can give 120% and still be told "fuck off" in the end. I'm not really sure how this will all be dealt with. There are a couple of options at this point. I'm a big fan of signs. Like, "if things go this way then I will do this" sort of thing. If things go well tomorrow in regards to something pretty major, then I will relax. I have a funny feeling that things won't go the way that we'd like though. We shall see.

My schedule this week has been all weird. Instead of working four 10 hour days, I'm doing five 8 hour days. Monday through Friday. This is because I had to do some training for 3 days this week. When I got this job (too fucking long ago) it was described as customer service. You call me when you have a late fee or don't recognize something on your bill. Now, we're having to deal with internet issues. I am so not looking forward to those kinds of calls.

The boys have begged us to let them ride their bikes to school for the past couple of years and we didn't let them because they were going to different schools and it was just as easy for us to pick them up from school. This is the first (and only) year that they will be in middle school together and we told them this summer that they could ride their bikes this year. They have been so excited.

The first day of school got here and they went to school and filled their backpacks with roughly 30 pounds of books apiece. They hadn't been able to ride their bikes yet because school had been closed due to the tropical storm and their schedules weren't set. They decided yesterday that they won't ride their bikes because their backpacks are too heavy. They're afraid that they'll turn turtle when going around a curve. They get lockers at school (that you have to freaking pay for) but are only allowed to go to them during certain times of the day so they end up carrying all of their stuff. It sucks.

Chi Chi 2.0 should be returning from her vacation soon. They said they'd contact me a couple of weeks before she was ready to get the final payment and they did that in the last week or so. I'm really hoping that it looks like she's sleeping and not just a dead dog in the corner.

One of my friends in Texas was one of Chi Chi's early owners and she has Chi Chi's registration papers tucked away somewhere. She will send them to me when she finds them. That is when I will be ready for a new dog. I'm going to try and track down one of Chi Chi's relatives.

^*Like sleeping in the next room close to me.

Nocturnal Fun

noreply@blogger.com (Chickie) — Sun, 24 Aug 2008 21:38:00 +0000

I know that I've mentioned that Sweety sometimes talks in his sleep. Last night, I took it to a whole new level.

For about the past 4 or 5 nights, I'll think that we are having a real conversation and then he'll start talking about crazy shit and I'll realize that he is dreaming.

He spooned up against me last night and cranked up the following conversation.

You really do hate Tom Cruise don't you?

Yes. Yes, I do.

Why? Whyyyyy? Do you hate him?

I think he's a crazy little fucker and I have no use for him.

So you don't like any of his movies?

Nope.

Color of Money?

Never seen it but I don't like it.

How can you say that when you haven't seen it? You really do have a black heart for Tom Cruise. I feel sorry for him. He will die soon.

And now we have maybe a minute's worth of silence.

What do you want?

Huh?

What do you really want the most?

At this point I'm trying to decide if he's awake or not because he does like to poke at me about my disdain for Tom Cruise so maybe he is truly awake. I decide to conduct an experiment.

A bottled water from the icebox.

A bottled water is what you want the most?

Yes. Would you get me one, please?

I'm thinking if he's really asleep that he'll just roll over and maybe pretend to get a water from and imaginary icebox. Instead he sits up and I think, "Oh, shit. He's awake! I'm gonna have to drink all of that damn water!". He gets out of bed and crashes into the wall. That's when I realize that he it asleep.

I follow him into the kitchen and when he opens the icebox, I flip on the light and ask him what the hell he's doing. I can see the look of surprise on his face and when he answers it's in a small, pitiful voice.

Getting you a water?

Why?

No reply.

Why are you getting me a water?

Um, I dunno...

At this point I am laughing hysterically and he is standing there naked and confused. He runs whimpering back to bed. I go back and tell him of the conversation we've been having.

We are laying there for about 10 minutes and he pipes up.

I'm scared to go back to sleep. What if I wake up and I'm driving naked to the beach?

Don't worry. I'll protect you.

No you won't! You just made me do a trick!

That was before I realized that your unconscious self needed protecting. I won't do that to you again.

I can't wait to see what sort of fun tonight's bedtime holds.

Doh!

noreply@blogger.com (Chickie) — Tue, 19 Aug 2008 02:05:00 +0000

For the past few weeks at work, I've noticed a door with a sign on the outside that said "Contemplation Room". I'm always on the lookout for a place to nap and I started peeking into it.

There is a tiny round table, a chair and a rug. That's it.

I'd looked in there a few times the past couple of weeks and it had always been empty. I decided to make myself at home in there today on my lunch break and take a nap.

I turned the sign on the door to read "in use" and went inside and put my purse on the table.

That is when I realized that there was a listing of times on the noteboard on the wall.

Oh. Nice. I guess you have to sign up to come in here and nap! Wonder who I need to talk to about getting on the list?

Why is there a little oriental rug on a floor that is already carpeted? Maybe I could nap on it?

I'm poking the rug around with my toe when it dawns on me that the room is set up for Islamic folks to have somewhere to do their praying. The times on the noteboard are the times of the day that they're supposed to pray.

Unfortunately, the door didn't lock so I smoothed the rug down and left.

I didn't want to be napping in there and have someone wanting to get their Salat on bust in on me.

A Sweaty Ball Of Fury

noreply@blogger.com (Chickie) — Mon, 18 Aug 2008 02:46:00 +0000

That's me.

Sweaty and furious.

The Fury descended at about 2 a.m. last night and I'm having a hard time tamping it down. I don't know why I'm so pissed.

Sweety and I were being all romantic when I started feeling mad. So I did really mean things to him last night and he loved every minute. I thought that I'd be calmer today when I woke but I'm not. I feel super alert. Super alert and ready to flip out with the slightest bit of provoking.

It doesn't help that I had to go to motherfucking Wal-Mart twice today. Are you required to have a head injury in order to work there? I think so.

I went to 3 separate stores looking for those black and white composition notebooks and couldn't find a one. The kids will have to do without those til some can be tracked down.

I remember when I was a kid and the only school supplies we needed were paper, pencils and crayons or colored pencils. We have 3 pages of shit between the boys of stuff that they need.

I guess the boys are a little put out because they didn't get brand spanking new shoes for school. BigBrother(13) has a pair that's been worn maybe two or three times and LittleBrother(11) has a pair that belonged to BB but were barely worn. BB's have a tiny scuff on the toe and he doesn't like that. A. SCUFF. ON. THE. TOE. OF. THE. SHOE. I told Sweety to give that shoe to BB and tell him to fuck himself with it and wear the damn thing. Shoes are made to get dirty. You know, because they are on the ground and all.

I can't believe that I told Sweety to tell a 13 year old kid to fuck himself and am telling you about it. I blame The Fury.

8/18/8 12:16 a.m.

In the 2.5 hours since writing the last sentence, I've had:

2 pieces of toast with honey butter and a glass of milk.

A shower.

2 melatonin.

2 Aleve.

I no longer feel like kicking someone in the head just for the hell of it. Phwew.

Wootie Woot

noreply@blogger.com (Chickie) — Sat, 16 Aug 2008 05:32:00 +0000

It's Friday night! Well, it's really Saturday morning but ~~whose~~ who's counting? ~~Hey, did I use "whose" right there? Mebbe.~~

Polishing off a mixture of ginger ale and Crown Royal that is 6 weeks old. It ages well.

I think Sweety is watching the Olympics. All I see are some running motherfuckers.

I think if I can get Sweety drunk enough that he will let Tiny Dog sleep with me.

Why is he tweaking his own nipple?

Sometimes when I'm really aggravated - I think JFK! or KFC! as short for Jesus Fucking Christ. I know Christ starts with a C and not a K and I don't know why I'd think of Kentucky Fried Chicken when I'm pissed. Is this subliminal?

Hey. Looking at that. JFK could be John F. Kennedy, huh?

Agh, KFB. What an asshole. Sweety likes to push my buttons.

We washed Tiny Dog 5 days ago and I put some perfume that I got as a sample on her and you can still smell it. Bitch is supernatural. Or Stella perfume really kicks ass. I'm leaning towards Tiny being supernatural. I wore Stella once but still needed a bath after only one day.

Heh. I just sucked the last of the soda out of the bottle. The only things left to drink in the house are a couple of sips of Gatorade and some Bacardi 151.

Do you twitter? You need to follow my sister. She's tickles me.

Hahahahaha! I think Sweety is going to bed! Do you know what this means? I can skip my shower and take one in the morning AND take Tiny Bed to dog with me! I'll have to wait til I hear him snore though.

Do you think it's weird if you let your dog stick its head in your mouth? I think that as long as her fur doesn't touch the inside of my mouth that it's okay. Some folks think it's odd.

1:32 and all is weeeeelllll! Night.

Lazy Thursday

noreply@blogger.com (Chickie) — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 01:27:00 +0000

Tiny Dog is on a supplement for her leg that likes to flop out of socket. She just started taking it but hopefully it will work and we won't have to go the surgical route. The pills are huge. Really big. She takes 1/2 of one and I have to chop it in half or thirds to hide it in food for her.

Tonight as I was chopping up the pill, I had a huge urge chop it up like cocaine and then use my driver's license to put it in neat rows and then see if she would snort it. Lucky for her, the urge subsided while I was digging around in my purse for the license and I just mixed it up with her food instead. But I wonder? Could she be ~~forced~~ trained to snort the shit? That would be so much easier than hiding it in food. Sometimes she finds it and spits it out. That infuriates me. I'm just trying to make you feel better. Eat it! Eat it!

When I lived in Texas, I worked the overnight shift in the office at a big box retailer's distribution center. There I met one of my dearest buddies (S) and she's still with the same company. We might not talk on the phone for months at a time but when we do talk, it's like we just spoke yesterday. She's in FL for work for a couple of weeks and she came here on her days off. She got here Tuesday night and we took the boys and NeighborGirl to Sea World yesterday. NG and the boys went off on their own and rode rides while S and I did the shows and walked all over the place. She had to leave this morning but it was so good to see her. This is the first time she's been to my house down here and the first time she's met the boys. LittleBrother(11) really took to her and wanted to hang out whenever we were sitting around talking. That surprised me because he usually hides from strangers.

I took today as a vacation day because S and I had planned on going to the beach but the weather didn't cooperate this morning so she just went back to her hotel that's a few hours away. I think I was still tired from all the walking yesterday because the girls and I napped on the couch for the larger part of the day.

It's official - I can't eat jalapeno peppers like popcorn anymore. I swear, every time I've been to the bathroom today - Stinky Dog lays down in the line of sight of the doorway and Tiny Dog humps the hell out of her. It's kind of unsettling to try and do violent business in the bathroom with the "tap-tap-tap-tap" sound that Tiny's back feet make on the floor while she's humping. Very surreal.

I better go. Sweety just called and he's on his way home. I need to bathe and try to look presentable. Or clean at the very least.

It's Good To Be Clean

noreply@blogger.com (Chickie) — Tue, 12 Aug 2008 05:00:00 +0000

Let's say your wife meets someone on the internet and really likes them. Wants to be their friend because they have cool dogs. And she goes on vacation to meet internet friend and the first night they are alone - they hot tub together. Naked as the day is long.

Would this bug you?

It really bugged the shit out of Sweety last year. This year, we took photos to demonstrate just how large the tub is. It's not like we were even touching in there.

In that second photo, she's in an odd position because she fell in the tub when running to get back in after pushing the camera button. (That is also why we were cackling.) The tub was so big that we didn't even touch when she slid in like a race car into the pit.

You know what can really give a bubble bath a somber tone? When you look over at your tubmate and see that they are crying uncontrollably during the last part of the movie Titanic. I didn't want to openly gawk at her sobs so I peeked at her in the mirrors instead. I cry at movies. Little leaking tears. With Bekah, it was like she'd just fallen down and scraped both of her knees and both elbows.

We had a large time. Friday night we planted ourselves at the bar after drinking lots of rum in our room. That was the night that I helped Bekah have her first earplug experience. We put them in and then couldn't hear each other talk so we twittered and texted each other until we went to sleep. She decided that earplugs weren't for her because she didn't like the sound of her heartbeat. That sound reassures me that I'm still alive and makes it easier to fall asleep.

On Saturday night, we stayed in our room and played cards while drinking lots of rum. (Um, if I remember correctly, I let her win.) Right after we got in the tub that night, our phone started to ring but stopped by the time I got to it. Then, someone from the front desk came to our room to tell us that they'd gotten complaints that we were too loud. I really don't think we were that loud. I think the jacuzzi jets were too loud at that time of night. Or morning. Whatever.

I simply adore her and can't wait to do it again next year!

I Love My Pets. Really. I Do.

noreply@blogger.com (Chickie) — Sun, 10 Aug 2008 23:36:00 +0000

Once upon a time there was a Girl and her fish died.

So she got a new one.

He was a good fish.

One day, while in Wallyworld, The Girl decided that Pete7's bowl needed some jazzing up. Maybe he would appreciate some new rocks? Oh, look! Let's get these glass marble things that are red and gold! Now his bowl will match the color scheme on the table that he resides on!

Pete7 was happy for a few months. To be honest, The Girl never really looked at Pete7. She tossed him food sometimes but never really looked at him.

Until suppertime one night.

The Girl noticed that Pete7 had a giant tumor on his head. So giant that he could hardly swim straight.

Then, The Girl noticed that the pretty rocks were no longer pretty. They were plain and clear.

It appeared that the lead paint on the made in China marbles had flaked off. And now Pete7 had a hideous lump on his head. (I so wanted to take a cheese grater to it to try and "cure" him but Sweety vetoed the idea.)

Coincidence? I think not.

Pete7 fought a good fight and had a nice watery funeral a several weeks later.

I think I'm going to reflect on my pet ownership skills before adopting Pete8.

Friday's Post

noreply@blogger.com (Chickie) — Fri, 08 Aug 2008 21:38:00 +0000

I turned 32 yesterday. I celebrated by leaving work early and going to the doctor for a sinus infection. This is what I get for bragging a couple of weeks ago that I hadn't had one in a long time. Went to work this morning and sat in the parking lot long enough to decide that I really needed to go home. Came home to sleep with Tiny Dog all day. (don't worry, Sweety. the sheets are being washed as i type.)

We celebrated my birthday the day before because the boys were leaving yesterday morning for their mom's. They picked out some lovely flowers for me and Sweety picked up a cake. I was really surprised. I thought they were going to the grocery store for bleach.

BigBrother(13) decided that he wanted a MySpace page Wednesday night and asked me to help him make it. We did and set it on private and I warned him that "private" doesn't really mean "private" and to not have a false sense of security. (he immediately started pestering me to teach him how to hack into people's profiles but i told him no. that just doesn't seem like a good parenting move.) On Thursday, the COAEW calls Sweety to bitch that he didn't call her and discuss letting BB have a MySpace account. WTF? BB told me that his mother had offered to help him make one awhile back but he wasn't interested at the time. I think she was just put out that he asked me and not her. She told Sweety she didn't think it was safe that he was online. Sweety didn't mention that she has the boys' photos and names splattered all over her page and back when she was on the prowl, had photos of her in the bar and it was obvious that she lived alone with her 4 kids. She finally told him that it was okay if BB kept his MySpace as long as it was set to private. Uh, okay. Thanks for the approval!

She will totally shit her pants if she ever logs onto his account and then onto mine and sees the blog I keep there. It is a very sanitized version of this one. No mentions of the COAEW, cursing, drinking or sex. But I do speak of they boys and I do mention that Sweety has primary custody of them. That would be enough to chap her ~~cellulite ridden face~~ ass.

Do you let your kids watch movies that are rated older than they are? Since BB turned 13, he gets to see all PG-13 ones and LittleBrother(11) can too if we watch them first and deem them not too inappropriate. LB is a scary movie fiend and got to watch his first R rated movie while we were on vacation. The Blair Witch Project. I'm guessing it got the R rating for the constant use of the word "fuck" but he knows better than to speak like that. I've told the boys that I don't give a damn how they talk to each other at home (as long as there is no hitting) but they need to always be polite in public. Their favorite word right now? Butthole. If I've heard it once, I've heard it ~~1000~~ eleventy billion times.

Tasty Goodness

noreply@blogger.com (Chickie) — Thu, 07 Aug 2008 00:58:00 +0000

I mentioned that the laptop was the victim of a minor car accident. We got it back yesterday and it seems to be good as new. Now, one kid uses the laptop and the other uses the desktop and they play games together. It's great! They can't touch each other!

The day before vacation, The Almighty Sweety was kind enough to bestow unto me a new computer. A shiny new computer. It has an apple on the front. I think I love it. I'd never used a MacBook before and it is a bit different from what I'd always had. I look forward to conquering it and making it my bitch.

I picked up a jar of marshmallow fluff today to help show my gratitude. If you are ever at my house and see a jar of marshmallow fluff- do not eat any. All jars are violated by Sweety's penis.

Home Again

noreply@blogger.com (Chickie) — Wed, 06 Aug 2008 16:33:00 +0000

Vacation ended this past Sunday. I hated going back to work on Monday but was glad to get home and see Sweety.

While I was gone I didn't blog much but did twitter. Sweety kept up with me through the twitters and managed to really misunderstand some things. When he logged onto our house computer, I was logged onto twitter and it showed not only my twitters but the ones for everyone that I was following.

Amy had a tweet that was a photo of her son raising his eyebrow and I replied to it with something like "He's doing his eyebrow like The Rock but I bet he doesn't shave his body hair." Right under that, Sweety saw a tweet from Bekah "Some guy at the bar wants to buy our drinks. Anna says no but I say yes."

Two totally unrelated sentences but Sweety read them and thought I was flirting with some guy at the bar and he was giving me the eyebrow. He actually read these things the night after they had been posted but thought it was happening right then and sent me a wonderfully snide little text message.

Isn't technology great?

The wildest thing we did was jumped on the beds. I fell back and whacked my head on the headboard once. I'm just not as agile as I used to be.

I finished up some legal shit yesterday. Yay! There will be no trial (thank goodness. the idea of that made me want to vomit until i died.) and I have just enough money now to get a new washer and dryer. I know that Sweety thinks I should have pressed the issue some more but I just wanted it to be over.

A friend from work is moving and last night we met up at a restaurant and drank ourselves silly. Today I feel like I've been shot at and missed but shit at and hit.

I must get moving. Taking the sprogs to the movies.

Well, I'll be damned...

noreply@blogger.com (Chickie) — Sun, 27 Jul 2008 02:47:00 +0000

My laptop started acting up the first weekend of this month. It took 15-20 minutes for Windows to come on (if it did) and it was freezing up. I took it to the store and they kept it overnight and told me that they tested it and that all I needed to do was reformat it. So I reformatted the motherfucker and it worked just long enough for me to buy replacements of t.v. shows that I had purchased for BigBrother(13)'s Zune but lost when I did the reformat. (I wasn't able to put them on the Zune before the reformat because the shitty laptop wouldn't unfreeze long enough for me to download them.)

I knew if I took it in for repairs that it wouldn't be ready in time for vacation and that pissed me off. Pissed me off so much that I decided to do something.

Before I had a chance to do anything drastic (like set fire to the computer store while running around in a tutu with lipstick smeared all over my face) the laptop suffered an accident. I accidentally ran over it. Uh, twice. With all tires on the passenger side. Really slow. Maybe I spun out on it too. I am not a very good driver. Poor laptoppy.

Thank goodness for replacement insurance that covers anything except fire or theft! I thought that surely a new laptop would be coming my way but guess what? We got a message today that they have ordered the parts to fix it and it will be ready in a few weeks. I really don't care that I'm not getting a new one. I just want it to work. I don't want to be told that it just needs a reformat when something is really wrong with it.

But I'm wondering - If being driven over doesn't kill a computer then what will? They should make cars out of whatever the case on that thing is made from.

Love is...

noreply@blogger.com (Chickie) — Fri, 25 Jul 2008 04:51:00 +0000

Upon pooping and realizing that there is only a little bit of toilet paper left - he takes a shower to wash his ass off so toilet paper will be left for you.

This is probably one of the nicest things a man has ever done for me. What is the nicest thing someone has done for you?

More Random

noreply@blogger.com (Chickie) — Fri, 25 Jul 2008 01:22:00 +0000

The one bad thing about vacation is no sex. Sweety and the boys sleep in the tiny bedroom and I sleep on the couch at my Mom's house. I shoved Mom and the boys out the door and to the nearest fishing hole after supper tonight because I had to get some before someone got hurt. It felt kind of weird to get naked in the room that holds all of my childhood photos so I just turned off the light.

I've read some blogs lately and people speak of how they don't infringe on their children's privacy by blogging about them. That it would be embarrassing to the kid. But on some of these blogs, people talk about things that are way personal while also posting photos of their kids. If you're so worried about not embarrassing someone - wouldn't it be a good idea to not air your dirty laundry? And just for the record, if you're reading this - it isn't you. I know I've talked about things that the boys would faint over if they read it but honestly? If my internet corner was ever found by them or their charming mother, I would have no problem telling someone to get over it. Life isn't all kittens and cottonballs. (Thank you, Mike. I've been dying to use that phrase.)

Wow, the boys and Mom just got in from fishing. The didn't catch anything but Mom let BigBrother(13) drive the car from the strip pit. It's about a mile away. He is very excited.

I shall go. Tonight is our last night here and I need to go pet my Mom while I can.

Yakkity Yak

noreply@blogger.com (Chickie) — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 20:36:00 +0000

I ditched a pair of panties in the bathroom of the Red Lobster in Fort Smith, Arkansas a couple of days ago. I'd overestimated the size of my butt when I bought new drawers before vacation and they were too big. Have you ever walked around all day with giant underwear galloping up your crack? I've got one word for you - Chafing. Oh, sweet, tiny, have only had talcum powder on your tiny heiny, baby Jesus. The chafing. I still can't walk right.

I love snooping. The first thing I do every year is open all my Mom's cabinets to see what she has in them. For the past 7 years, it's always been the same stuff. If I ever visit you, I will peek in your drawers too. And I'll straighten your towel closet. My towel closet at home looks like shit but I like to straighten them in other houses. Maybe I just like touching fluffy towels.

When I get to Texas, I'll spend some time at my best friend's (Elaine) house. She lives next door to her Mama and her Mama went to live in the nursing home this year. Sweety, the boys and I will stay in her Mama's house. I am very excited. She has had a lifetime to collect things and I will get to snoop! Elaine knows my fondness for snooping and has given me her full blessing to touch all of Mama's stuff. (Last year, E and me went over there and snooped through her things while she was at the library. I also got to see photos of my friend from when she was growing up. I love stuff like that.) Elaine isn't very sentimental and asked if there was anything that I'd like to take of her Mama's but I told her no. I just want to look at it and pick it up.

So Lonely

noreply@blogger.com (Tiny Dog) — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 01:37:00 +0000

Hello, people of the world. Tiny Dog here. One, sad, lonesome little Tiny Dog. Mama is on vacation. I hate vacation with a passion that is brighter than eleventy billion suns.

Usually, Mama leaves me and Stinky at home alone and NeighborGirl comes over a few times a day to let us outside. We make the best of a bad situation by throwing parties and raiding the tequila bottle. But not this year. This year we are at Papa's sister's house. (I guess she'd be our aunt?) Aunt has 3 other dogs! Three! And TWO are pit bulls! Friendly but pit bulls nonetheless. I am constantly watching my ass to make sure I still have it.

This is me and Mama the day before she left.

Oh, dear Dog. I miss her.

Greetings From Nowhere

noreply@blogger.com (Chickie) — Tue, 22 Jul 2008 17:55:00 +0000

I'm at my Mom's house in Oklahoma. She finally has internet service but it is slower than old people fuck. Old - dead - people. I can see that my blog page is wonky. It appears that the place that made my template has closed up shop and I didn't have the good sense to save the graphics in case this happened. I may drive 20 minutes to town to find some wireless internet service so I can fix it. And so I can blog surf. (Because who knows wtf I'm missing in my blog neighborhood!) It's a minor miracle that I'm online now and I'll be surprised if the connection doesn't crap out before this thing is posted.

We spent a few days in a cabin at a park. (Where, oddly enough, there was sporadic cell phone service. I celebrated by tweeting constantly.) I learned a very important thing.

If you go hiking to the bottom of the cliff behind your cabin and tell your husband that you will come right back up? You better scrabble your fat ass back up that cliff with your kids instead of walking around the mountain to get back to the cabin. When you hike goes from 45 minutes to almost 3 hours - your husband will be freaking the fuck out when you finally drag your hiking peeps back to the campsite. He was getting ready to call the park ranger because the side of the mountain that we went down was already fully dark because the sun had set on that side. He thought that my mom and I had fallen and smashed our heads and the boys were trying to revive us. Sweety was so glad to see us that he hit us all with a giant stick.

Here I am on the computer with they boys playing a video game and Sweety doing a home project. It's almost like we are still at home!

Hola.

noreply@blogger.com (Chickie) — Sat, 12 Jul 2008 04:05:00 +0000

What does it say about me that I don't try to hide the smell of alcohol on my breath from my husband but the scent of sesame seeds instead? I'm certain it's not healthy to be filled with glee when Sweety gets in the shower because that is my cue to scamper into the kitchen and eat cheese dipped in sesame seeds as long as the shower is running.

I tell you all a couple of posts down that I've lost a little weight and then spend the next few days eating anything that isn't nailed down. I'm my own worst enemy. At least it's not heroin. Right? But if it was heroin, at least I'd be skinny. But my skin would probably look like shit and my teeth would be falling out.

I'm just killing some time tonight. For some reason, I'm not really sleepy. My laptop is acting like an ass so I've abandoned it for the desktop that's hidden in the back of the house. Something is weird with it though and when I go to any blogs, the font is tiny and I can't read them. Phooey. I'll just blather here instead of nosing around blogland.

Sweety is in bed. He's getting up at 1:30 a.m. to go watch concrete be poured. The place that he works for is building a new warehouse/office space and he's been the pushing person behind it and wants to see the cement go down. They start pouring at 2 a.m. I'm happy for him. I know this building is something that he's been dying to see done and it's been about 4 years or so in the making. When it's finished, he will have to go half as far to work. We will be able to have all of our teeth plated in gold with the money that'll be saved in gas. Or not.

Last Sunday was our 7th anniversary. I can't believe that I've been in this hellhole (Florida) for 7 years already. I have served exactly half of my sentence because in 7 more years, LittleBrother(11) will be 18 and we can move out of this hot-no season having-palm trees abound-place. I will see snow again from my bedroom window before I die! And autumn leaves!

To celebrate, we went out to eat and to the sex toy shop and bought some interesting things. Do you know what is more dangerous than me being three sheets to the wind with a small riding crop in my hand? Nothing. Ahem.

I mentioned to Sweety that I still liked him a whole bunch after 7 years. He thinks we're still together because we haven't suffered any sort of bad thing or major hardship together yet. I say, why do you have to have a bad thing? Maybe we'll get really lucky and miss any major shitstorms. As long as he keeps his weenie in his pants when I'm not around - I don't see why we won't make it another 7.

The bitches are freshly bathed because we're going to my sister's tomorrow. Think I'm going to bed in LB's room and taking Tiny Dog with me.

Do You Hear That?

noreply@blogger.com (Chickie) — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 22:33:00 +0000

For the love of all that is good and holy. Can't ~~these kids~~ LB shut up for TWO consecutive minutes? The whining! Sweet, tiny, hasn't let out a colicky cry yet, baby Jesus! The whining! What have I done to deserve this? I feed you little dirt urchins. I took you to the movies. (Hancock rocked, by the way.) All I want is a tiny bit of PEACE and QUIET! Are your damn 3 inch voices broken? Pick, pick, pick, pick. I swear, if I hear LittleBrother(11) whine one. more. time....I do not know what I will do. I was thisclose to going into their room while ago and just yelling at them that I was fixing to lose my shit if they didn't knock it off. BigBrother wants LB to go swimming with him and LB is refusing to go. How about you go on and swim kid? You know, since we have that fucking pool in the backyard? Make me feel like it's - oh, I dunno - appreciated?

And what is up with this piece of shit laptop? I had to reformat the thing this weekend and now it's freezing up. Work, motherfucker! Work! Aaaagh!

This new schedule is really nice for spending time with Sweety but it is wrecking my blog life. I now see how easy it is push it to the wayside while doing other shit. Like listening to children.

How is it the boys can be so great one minute - so great that I just love them to death - and a few minutes later I'm ready to sharpen a broom and poke them and laugh while they run from me?

I will be so glad when LB's voice changes. Maybe his whine wouldn't bother me so much if it was a couple of octaves lower.

Despite this post, I am still in a very happy place. It's a fucking miracle.

*~*~Skittering Thoughts~*~*