31 October 2006

A good post is a recycled one!

Target Dog Bites! ~ Oct 2005

With three kids in school, I like to take my youngest daughter into the Target close to my house. It's clean and having been built last year, it's modern and even the carts are still shiny with the illusory appearance that there are no germs lurking on the handles.

I especially like to go because it has a Starbucks Cafe inside..ehm, Starbucks coffee/products in a cafe managed by Target employees. But who cares? It's coffee! The Safeway down the street has a Starbucks inside. Two blocks away is an actual Starbucks Cafe. Heck, even our local coffee shop has a Starbucks inside.

"Hi, I'd like a Triple Skim, No foam, 140 Latte".

I know I'm a coffee snob. I can't help it. I love coffee. I could just feel the caffeine coursing through my veins.

My daughter, Ellie, wants a "Hot Jew", and no, not a Yiddish beefcake calendar. It's warmed milk, which she has never called milk, but continually calls it juice or 'jew' in her sweet 2 year-old voice. (and no offense intended to those fine-looking males of Jewish extraction)

So we walk around a mostly deserted Target, Ellie sipping her "Hot Jew" and me, drinking my coveted latte. The looks we get from people are classic. It ranges from smiles to what they want to say,

"How dare you MOM, giving this sweet toddler a coffee. After all, I've never had kids but want to impart my all-knowing worldly wisdom through dirty glances at you, since you're her mother."

I did not want to spend any money at Target but a new book is out, I needed T.P. and laundry soap. We get up to the counter and a cashier of questionable age rings us up. The shirt I picked out for Ellie has no tag. So he turns on his blinking light and I, being efficient, swiped my debit card through their germ dispenseroops, card machine and we wait. And wait. The line is now growing and he looks at me impatiently and says,

(oh, wait for it...)

"Do you mind running over to the girls department and getting another shirt with a tag."

I looked at him blankly and am dying to ask, "Gee, you want me to run the service desk too? And how about the state of those bathrooms?"

I reluctantly cave with a "sure", only due to being tired of waiting. I pick up my purse and scoop up Ellie. We walk over to the girls department, within sight of the registers. I locate a properly tagged shirt and together we walk back over to the counter.

I was gone a whole 30 seconds.

Wonder Cashier decided in that time to move on to the next person. I immediately was irritated by this because I am doing his job and I'm not about to wait in the long line that has sprung up. I plunk my purse down in my empty cart while the lady who was behind me is throwing things on the conveyor belt. She looks at me, annoyed by my presence as I proceeded to tell the checker I had the shirt. He then told me in his best mumble, "um, just a sec".

I love that they hired well-qualified, professional customer service.

I interrupted his ringing and asked Wonder Cashier about my card being swiped through their machine as I am not about to pay for this lady's goods. She looked over and said with emphasis, "I will be doooone in a minute".

I wanted to ignore Rude Lady and try to let it go. I stood there waiting quietly as my mind whirled with comebacks.

Target Dog nothing, how about meeting WWF Smackdown Target?

Wonder Cashier, on the other hand looked at me vacantly. How was I to know he canceled out my card and transaction? Maybe he thought I was unreasonable. Maybe he was only 14 and filling in for his mom? Maybe a new employee on his first day or perhaps just a dim bulb that would be fired before the day was out. I didn't know and honestly, didn't care.

"I canceled it. Hang on a sec....."

I was so close to opening a can of Get A Verbal Whooping Here. I waited for Her Royal Rudeness and Customer Service Cashier of the Month to get done. Not one peep, glance or comment from me, which if you knew my personality is a feat in and of itself. She didn't notice, as I did, an employee came out from hiding and took away Rude Lady's empty cart assuming we were together. Rude Lady then turned, grabbed the end of mine and started loading it.

I can't believe how ridiculous this is.

"Is this my cart?" she asked the Wonder Cashier behind the counter. It dawns on her it isn't, but never once addressing me as I retrieve my purse and coffee cup from the top seat.

By then, I'm envisioning how much fun it would be to just push her head down into the shiny red basket and run full blast through the parking lot with her legs kicking out the top. I would also hop the sidewalk and get some air off the curbs.

Come on....lean over...just a little more....just a little more.....

Employee of the Month finished ringing my things and I ended up smiling from ear to ear while keeping Ellie out of the gum that sits perfectly at her eye level.

"Your total is $33.85. Would you like to open a red card today and save 10% on your purchase?" My grin disappears. I calmly asked "Do I want to save 10% so I can give Target 25%?"

He gets my point, says a thank you and wishes me a good day.

Now, I could have done things differently and shown more grace. There are plenty of things I could have done, or not:

A) Yell and apply the Verb to his ancestry, his dog, his workplace and his backside. Demand to see the manager. Claim to soon own both their jobs.

B) Quietly take the incident as an off-day and forget it. Continue dreaming of the lift and velocity off the curb with Rude Lady in the basket. Sweet!

C) Call the Target four times a day posing as Wonder Cashier's girlfriend or mother so it gets him fired.

D) Watch Wonder Cashier's schedule and place a large sack of flaming dog poo outside the employee exit at the end of his shift.

E) Try to be gracious but put it on a public forum for all the world to see.

All I have to say is it was hard to walk past the comment box....and the employee exit, for that matter.

28 October 2006

linky love Bloggerversary

I'm celebrating a little early, my two year bloggerversary as of November 1!!!

OVER TWO YEARS I've met some fantastic people.
Translation: Stalking is harder than it looks.

OVER TWO YEARS I've made some great friendships.
Translation: Look at my cool blog shrine, I have candles now!

OVER TWO YEARS I've made a handful of funny, honest, got your back, close to my heart, life-long relationships.
Translation: I owe people money and they have my real name.

I dedicate this post to you!


I'm sharing Life & Times, opening My Gobhole to give you a little more than My 100+ Things, just Out of The Blue. Think of it as a Front Porch Conversation with a good friend. I want to give you a A Glimpse Into My World to tell you about my Family Circus while I am Living In Grace.

I'm a LadyWriter and you can catch my daily Random Synaptic Misfire in print, Writing From The Inside Out. It's a wonderful mix of Victorian Rhapsody & Dirty Dishes but not all Paradise Valley as you might suspect.

I'll give you a ViewFromTheCloud, showing you the real side of me, a BossyBritches or an Impatient ChickenDeputy's Wife but it can be surprising as Spilt Milk. but that is what makes it fun. I may not have a life of say, a

For Better or For Worse I always say, That's Life Too!

I hope it's not 2 Much 411 as my daily grind can appear like My Life Is A Cartoon with crazy stories; already having blogged The First Hundred or more Stolen Moments.

It's a Mad World at times being a Redneck Mommy. You would wonder if my boys think It's About Being Able to Fly the way they run around Dreaming and Believing they were Batman fresh from Jeremiah's School Of Levitation trying to catch their made-up arch nemesis, The Cachinnator. They are also always looking for "Just Some English Guy" to help fill the role as the smart and savvy sidekick. Then when it's time for chores, they are moving like a Turtle. I do wade in The Shallow End of sanity at times. Just call me Crazy Mama D....or do I mean E?

Shut up! no way, you say?

Even cleaning my Beautiful Mess can be as inspiring as taking a Random Walk through a courtyard or taking Fresh-Cut Flowers to a Green Cathedral. Perhaps in time to hear Sarah's Sermons and listen to me Singing a Verse of My Song (It's Okay, I'm With The Band).

I am Finding Joy as a Daring Young Mom hearing all the Hubba Doos ("I love yous") and knowing someday I'll be a Rock Rebel Granny. It's easy to look for a Greener Pasture but for now, I'll settle for hearing things from my kids like "What On Earth Is That Smell".

I'm just one Gobulous Hottie, married to Mr. Coffee, raising almost Six Kids, armed with humor, a good book, an occasionally clean house, and killer casserole.

Sweetly and Saurly Yours,


25 October 2006

time to make the donuts honey

I was watching The Today show this morning and they were talking about Krispy Kreme VS Dunkin Donuts. One woman interviewed on the show had announced that Krispy Kreme was addictive, inspiring me to photoshop the real truth above. Oh, yes, I did.

In the city I live in, we happen to have a Krispy Kreme. It's right off the highway and the smell is divine. Sometimes the HOT sign is lit up, enticing passers-by to throw caution out the drive-thru donut window and taste some soft, gooey goodness. Stopping in is even more fun watching the donuts float down Grease River into Drippy Dry Flats, out into Sugar Shower and finally resting in boxes.

I, however, am more of a Dunkin Donuts kinda gal. Even when I was little, I would venture out past the light post without permission, walk to the end of the apartment complex, turn the corner and drop in on the ponytailed girls running the Dunkin Donuts counter while wearing their cute pink and brown uniforms.

The fresh baked aroma would hit me as I pressed my hands against the glass door in eager anticipation. The little door bells chimed and a face would peek from the back of the store, seemingly swallowed up in mountains of coma-inducing, heart-stopping sugary delectables.

"Hi Emma! Hey, we have some extra donuts for you!"

"You want some pink sprinkles?"

"How about some milk?"

Why they fed me, I don't know, but those girls were the best friends I ever had to that point in my young life. Except for maybe the boy who chased me on the playground until I decided to go steady with him, if it was okay with my mom.

I think now, of my 6 year old self, walking to the strip mall next to my apartment complex, on a busy, busy street in Santa Ana, California and I am amazed I wasn't hurt. It was the mid-1970s but even then I was willing to risk the wrath of my parents for the euphoric taste of cake donuts. And so my love was born. Cake donuts without icing coupled with some black house coffee and perhaps a pink sprinkle or two. MMm MMm good.

So the question of the day: Who makes the best donuts?

Krispy Kreme or Dunkin Donuts?

20 October 2006

and I do my little turn on the catwalk

This morning, I checked my spanking, hot - off - the - press, October Kaboodle newsletter and it's official. My blogger friends have pulled through and signed up!!! Now all my sentences end with exclamation points!!! (Help me!! I can't stop!!!) Now thanks to everyone who Kaboodled, I am soon to be the proud owner of a 2G iPod Nano. wooohooo!!

I was so excited when I got my email newsletter, I did the 'I won an iPod Nano' dance which involves a great deal of flailing arms around, doing the white man's overbite and shaking it like it's 1999. I'm also the self-proclaimed unofficial spokesperson for Kaboodle, in which I will announce that they are now doing another monthly contest. Check it out and win an item on your Kaboodle page displayed on your blog - up to $100 in value. (see my wishlist? You can also add it to your blogger profile) .


Is it wrong to ram someone in the carpool lane waiting for the kids to get out of school? Just wondering. I did however politely request that a environmentally careless grandmother possessing no sense of example or etiquette to retrieve her smoldering cigarette butt she openly deposited on the brand new, clean concrete walkway just feet from the entrance to the brand new school full of gradeschool-aged, impressionable children. Nice role model there, Grandma! Now pick up your butt!!


I had a wonderful time with my mom, aside from my own premonition that I would not survive the visit without retreating into drugs, alcohol or tabloid magazines and reruns of Entertainment Tonight. I discovered a great deal about my mom, from her misdiagnosis of bipolar disorder, to her mismanaged health care, to her new drug study that she is in for her correctly diagnosed illness and her little Chinese doctor that is doing a stellar job of getting her on the road to well-being and quality of life. I have not seen her as functional, rational, peaceful, healthy and happy as I did this week. I did not know how much it weighed on me until now, knowing that she was doing so well.

At times, I have a hard time with the fact that of the four of us girls, their are only two of us siblings that have kids and further, we are the only ones that are hands on when it comes to my mom's care. It must be taxing to have a schedule of a single person without children. To be burdened without school functions, PTA, church, doctor appointments, MOPS, carpooling, school, sick kids, and the proverbial 6 loads of laundry a day. Is that catty of me? Yes, I take my milk in a saucer, thank you!


Our pumpkins have given up the ghost, no pun intended, due to the warm weather as of late. I thought that the fuzzy mold aggressively growing out of pumpkin mouths and eyes would be a bit too much for the constitutions of tiny pirates and giant bumblebees knocking at my door in about a week. We don't celebrate Halloween. Yes, I am one of those moms. But to my credit, I even make the kids say *500 Hail Mary's after passing the Halloween isle at Target and wash their eyes with anti-bacterial soap when they see a Halloween commercial.

Can't be too careful, you know.

*No disrespect intended to Mary who is no longer with us or to those people who do hail Mary on a regular basis. Then again, ignore this because I think this disclaimer is making it worse.

15 October 2006

a little this and that

I had a great time with Badoozer over here in Emma Land. I love it when she visits, because we are such goofs. By the way, she has really good hair. I have my days but she has YEARS of good hair, so good in fact that I had to get some information out of her on exactly how beautiful hair is obtained. I, on the other hand, typically look like I did my hair with an egg beater. I don't brush and tell, now, but I'm set thanks to this contraption she made me buy (yes, made me buy, before we were kicked out of Fred Meyers)

As of today, we both have Pantene TV commercial worthy hair. Isn't that great? Every time I go past a mirror I have to repress the urge to spin in slow-mo. See? It's that nice. Anyway, it was fabulously good to see her again...and no, we didn't need bail money this time around.


I finally received my IKEA catalog in the mail for 2007. I need only $3,157.32 to buy what I want out of it. I'm not even holding my breath for the new Crate and Barrel catalog. Man, I love them.

How easy is it really to cook a homemade meal? I'll tell you. I saw a TV commercial recently that spoke about this no fuss, effortless, crock pot meal.

"SO easy, just add water and simmer for a home-cooked taste".

Tell me it is not hard to:

Throw a chuck roast in the crock and turn it on high.

Add one can of condensed cream of mushroom soup

Add one packet of onion soup mix

Add a bag of baby carrots

Add a bag of baby potatoes with some salt and pepper?

Now, the hard part: Let it cook all day until the roast is falling apart.

Like that would take so much more work? Marie Calendar is banking that it is.


My mother is coming to visit this week, so I might be scarce for a couple days. At least I have good coffee now, to pull me through. I broke down and bought some. I know...I know, now cheating on Folgers, which coincidentally, despite public disapproval, is actually not that bad as a drip. As a cup of French press. oh, Lordy, it stinks. You know what they say though? "Why drink decaf? There are better ways to get bad breath." Not that I drink decaf or have any idea what that completely made-up and impromptu saying has anything to do with my mother.

But I have good coffee now.....all is well. (**think Trader Joe's Fair Trade organic, economically, & environmentally friendly coffee)

13 October 2006

Dear John Roaster

To My Dearest Frou-Frou Expensive French Roast Coffee,

It was bound to happen. Those grocery store sales sneaking up on me. You really can't fault me for wanting to save some money without sacrificing taste, now can you? I am only one weak human, for the love of all that's good and decent! I can't always be perfect, sipping the same brew, day in and day out. It's been so good but I do believe I have to move on. The simple fact is...I cheated.

There it's out.

You have to understand! I didn't mean for this to happen. It just did. Rolling down the isle on three wheels and a lump of bearings, looking from sale tag to sale tag, minding my own business and there it was. A red plastic tub of Folgers on sale. Gourmet Supreme. AND the worst of it? Dark Blend with the official Aroma Lock Seal. How could I resist?

I know. I know. What you must think of me, now? Running off to cheaper coffee when the checkbook ran dry. What was I supposed to do!? I have needs, you know. Everyday, you tempt me, tease me with your aroma while deep in my heart I know I am just buying you. You fuel my day with every lingering sip. What can I say? Can I deny that it was amazingly good? NEVER!

I just feel so dirty.

My budget says I have to make some changes so I doubt I will be returning to your twelve dollars a pound. I cannot. I must not. Time will only tell, but more than likely this might just be the end of us. Don't hate me, though. Please, don't hate me.

Just remember the good times, spent with Newspaper. The times with Hubby, with Good Morning America, with Badoozer & the ever-running Dapoppins Coffee Talk. Even that phase with Preggo Belly, Cinnamon Creamer, & Decaf. I'll always remember how well we went with Good Book, French Press and long, long ago, with those teachers I like to call Hangover, Commode and Final Paper Procrastination.

And so, I take my leave. May your bean be robust, may your logo be "mermaidy" and your price someday, affordable so your groupies don't have to give up luxuries like toilet paper and food.

09 October 2006

I don't want to be a pie. I don't like gravy.

Come sit a spell.
Maybe this is why they call it squash?
(and yes, pumpkin is squash)

Grab a wheelbarrow in your favorite color.

Would the real Great Pumpkin please stand....

This is what Lewis and Clark called a starter home.
Modern teepee
sleeps 6 comfortably
Fire never smokes
needs some TLC

Comes with forced air

modernized packed dirt flooring
Charming neighborhood

You know it's a good fort when there is a teepee just to the right of it.

Dad really does hold down the fort.

Ellie Punkin

The Brothers holding as still as could be expected.

A maze of maize. Amazing.
I was stuck in this for 3 hours.
Darn GPS! For the last time THERE is NO INTERSECTION here!

Hurrah! Survivors!
This must be the Coffee Tribe heading out.

07 October 2006

punkins at the patch

Today, the family went to a pumpkin patch.
We had fun.
So much fun, in fact, that we should have enough pumpkins for 514 lbs of dried pumpkin seeds and enough filling for 13.4 million pies.

I think it'll wait on the details and incriminating pictures for the next post.....

05 October 2006


This is one concerned pastor. *Click to Listen* LINK UPDATED (mp3)

It's worth it to get a good laugh, I promise.

This is one hilarious remix of a concerned pastor. *Click to Listen* LINK UPDATED (mp3)


Lastly, Home Depot Kids Workshop this Saturday at a Home Depot near you!

Have a good day!!!

03 October 2006

EmmaSometimes & Mr. Coffee

I needed to do a bio on myself since I have done them on the kids..so, here goes.

Behind door #1 is EmmaSometimes and even though she is indeed 13 years happily married with four cherub-faced children in tow that have been known to drive her to copious amounts of personal therapy, she frequently sticks her nose in a good book while enjoying a large cup of over-priced black coffee. At times, she relishes her little delusions of grandeur in becoming a well-known humorist author, perhaps a creative web designer or possibly that PTA lady that sports the fashionable orange reflective vest for crossing guard patrol duty that she now wonders what possessed her to sign up. She loves to laugh out loud, plays piano badly, routinely laughs at her friends' expense and has been caught more than once yanking the tags off her mattresses. She is also a self-proclaimed chocolate snob and has been known to drive her minivan around town at an alarming rate of speed doing errands while muttering movie lines from The Ballad of Ricky Bobby.

Behind door #2 is the darling husband, aka Mr. Coffee, who enjoys WWII history, reenacting WWF Dad VS Kid Smackdown in the house and has for his entire life harbored a wish that he had a cool face scar like GI Joe. Currently owns the largest collection of 80s ties since Miami Vice went off the air. Also enjoys loud techno, wearing fuzzy bunny slippers and constantly reading books about God. Always makes time for Jane Austen chick flicks, head-banging to Van Halen while doing household chores and full contact golf. Has been easily mistaken for George Clooney or other hot actor with dark hair, green eyes and big manly eyebrows. Likes to wear camouflage and kisses wife often.

Now you know.......

going freaking postal

I am now convinced the Unabomber was simply a worn down eBay seller that got tired and lost it over his FREAKING PENNY PINCHING BUYERS who were completely unable to FREAKING EMAIL or just IQ challenged enough to fail asking a FREAKING QUESTION before they bid on his FREAKING AUCTIONS in which they complained and whined to no FREAKING END about the cost of FREAKING POSTAGE stated on the FREAKING WEBSITE in plain FREAKING ENGLISH!!

I'm sure of it.

**We now return to normal, sane programming........

01 October 2006

secret art

I take my children to school every morning and drive by 'the blue house'. I believe the bush is a lilac crapemyrtle (thank you Harmonica Man), with pinkish purple flowers that bloom every fall. The green and brownish foliage set off the floral display with a robin's egg blue house as it's canvas. Isn't this pretty?

It's an amazing piece of art that seems wholly ignored, as if it's my little secret, unknown to passers by. I've wanted to capture my little 'secret' for the last four years and now, unencumbered by rain, it's forever immortalized in picture.