29 March 2007

my blood type is Starbucks Italian Dark Roast

I have been chugging large amounts of coffee to keep me from crashing by 5pm. I'm really surprised at how drained I am. I packed, I packed and I'm still packing. This is inspiring the age old question, "DO I really need to keep this?" The local Salvation Army is probably wondering if I've boosted a storage unit or something from the size of their donation pile. My rule of thumb? If I haven't used it in a year, and it's not an heirloom, photo, or ski boots...I'm pitching it. My kingdom for a storage unit and an 10 x 15 should just about do it.

Moving is coming along steadily. We plan to be out of here by this weekend. The house closing is tomorrow and Buyer Bob was gracious enough to allow us another couple of days while the sale recorded with the county. I am so thankful this is going so well.

I'll be back in one more week to fill nostrils with milk, load your mind with stories, and plaster your blog with smart aleck commenting from yours truly.

20 March 2007


On Friday, I had a little change in the usual schedule. I went to the airport early and then rented a car and drove and drove and drove...Badoozer has visited me twice, so it really was my turn. The rental was red, sporty and came with two complimentary speeding tickets. Okay, not true. Maybe they would have if there was a lawman around...or anyone around for that matter. You're looking at rush hour and I was driving the speed limit..plus a little more. What does the 9 and the zero mean?

I drove around Badoozer in my little sports car for the weekend, which was nice except when you're stopping at imaginary stop signs in the middle of the road. It's also really bad when your passenger flashes the nice policeman while trying to dazzle him with her wits. I think she was asking directions to the rave while our heads went into auto-bob to Van Halen. The policeman was nice, though. He said something about Badoozer smelling good, needing a phone number and a mumbled about bribe money. I'm just thankful we had bail. Apparently Badoozer only likes firemen.

You can't make this stuff up. Oh, wait. I might have embellished just a skiff.

On another note, when there are three lanes on the road, one is left, one is right and one is the middle. Wouldn't you agree? Well, back up the Chevy Cobalt buddy, because in Mayberry, apparently there is a TURN lane and a right and left lane.

Me: "Which way?"

Badoozer: "You want to be in the left lane"

"COOL! It's like having a human GPS!", I think to myself as I roll into the left lane.

Badoozer: "Where are you going?!! Left lane! Left lane! Left LANE!!"

Traffic starts, I'm confused and I'm now blasting through the intersection apparently going in the opposite direction of our destination. I've driven all over the US, big cities, small towns, highways and byways. I can handle traffic, road rage, even reloading. This town was just a hard nut to crack with their fancy multiple lanes.

Me: "I AM going left!!"

Badoozer: "NOT the turn lane!"

Me: "It is the left lane!"

Badoozer: "That's a turn lane, not a left lane! Where are you going!?"

Apparently she meant the other other left lane. I start to circle the wagons like the whitest ever Chief Joseph as we argue proper lane names. This turns into hysterical laughing and making fun of the people we see along the way. Eventually, we ended up eating really good Italian food.

Two words. Strom. Boli. Three more words. Greek. Sal. Ad. We ate too much and nearly sploded on the way home.

As you can see, there are builders putting together the townhouses next door to her mansion that she likes to call her 'little townhouse'. Seriously, Donald Trump has smaller houses. It's really spacious. Aside from parking angst, I'd love a place like that.

Parking is a problem, though. On any given weekday, they turn her cul-de-sac into a military base gone Olympic obstacle course complete with roofing nails, flatbed trucks and gravel piles. They then proceed by packing exactly 67 vehicles between the start of her drive and the honey bucket you can see in the picture (that's a Terlit, ya'll) I almost jumped into their paving rig and started clearing the way flat but Badoozer pulled a 7 inch knife and negotiated with them. The woman has skills. What can I say?

There was also an incident involving her MAC. May it rest in peace. Pieces?

Driving back kept me from watching the Super Bowl. I did manage to catch a glimpse of Prince singing in the rain at half-time. I'm bothered at the lack of complaint about his head gear. Did anyone else notice he was wearing an Aunt Jemima do-rag? For crying in my breakfast, was he setting his hair because I thought he might whip out a stack of pancakes and start pouring. Purple Rain better be boysenberry.

-Bee likes pancakes

16 March 2007

living in a van down by the river

Life has taken a bad turn for our family. I wish it was something funny, like my 6 year old growing a beard, or more pleasant news, like a plugged sewer line or something. The fact is, its deification hitting the rotary oscillator and I have no umbrella or even a hooded sweatshirt to protect me. I've spent my last several days in tears, freaking out as to where we will live when our house forecloses. Yes, the big F word. Now that Mr Coffee has a job, we hoped to crawl out of this, but it won't be in time.

This does not make me ignorant or lazy. Why I feel the need to justify myself, is solely due to people with ideas of why I could have avoided this. If you want to beat me down, get in line. I've done enough beating myself up and second guessing to power every political office known to man. The fact is, we couldn't have done anything different. I used to instruct people how to finance, save and budget for a living. Working with the mortgage company (aka, The Anti-Christ) only goes so far. We have also both worked hard to make ends meet, even with minimal debt (we don't use credit cards). We've soldiered through 3 months of job searches. No one was hiring.

I've cried myself to sleep too many times over this and can only know that there must be a reason for this whole thing to happen. It's the only way I can stay sane.

I vacillated over posting this because I'm not looking for anything but a 'blogger' shoulder to lean on. I may be back in a couple weeks or so, but frankly, I don't know when my computer will come out of storage. This whole thing is demoralizing, so why not publish it on the internet? Stuff just happens, you cry, thank God you don't have cancer or a prison term, and you get through it.

So for now, I am taking a hiatus to take care of business. Thank you all my readers for the support and kind words. Keep me in your thought and prayers. We need it.

You can contact me at my email addy

write2ems at yah00 d0tc0m

For now,

15 March 2007

Whining. The other, other, other white meat.

I want a self-cleaning house. A self-cleaning van would also be nice. Just roll the windows up, and press your keyring bee-booper for autowash. It fills with water, an agitator comes out of the floor and you have all the upholstery washed in 5 minutes. Power blower after the rise cycle and heated dry. I think I could market that. Until then, my driveway is subjected failing debris every time my kids climb out. I try to keep it clean, but climbing around the seats for garbage and the last green granola bar looks more like an audition for Cirque du Soleil.

I'd also like a self-cleaning oven since my antique and decrepit excuse for an oven is older than the hills. I think it once baked bricks for the Pyramids and the self-cleaning mechanics have long kicked the bucket. I'm telling you, it's old and worn out. Nonetheless, I still use it often, remember to turn my casseroles, muffins and cakes and setting the dial at 50 degrees less than recommended. I told you it was old. It's brand name is Gibson, like the guitar people. They must make stoves and then sit around and sing songs about them. It's the American way.

Someone is at it again, taking photos of her oven, and I am just a slave to her photographic whimsy. Perhaps she wants to show off her beautiful clean one and rub it in my face. Who knows, but I didn't make Martha Stewart Mom of the Year by keeping a clean oven (haha! Undoubtedly, Martha cleans her own, I am sure.)

I use my archaic kitchen appliance often. I need a warm weather day to deal with the stench of auto-cleaning, or in my case, the oven cleaner spray and smell of an electrical fire. Saturday promises 70 degree weather, so this bad boy will be a different shade of rust by Sunday. For now, I cave YET AGAIN, to the passing fancy of one curious Badoozer.


I like how you can still see the charred remains of a noodle from my Baked Ziti the other night. Martha would be so proud. The picture makes it look rusty in there. It's just grime, I promise.

Before cleaning: clean up excess spillage.

Isn't that cleaning my stove before I clean my stove? Personally, I'd rather buy this gorgeous thing but thieves go to jail and I don't have a fast enough getaway car...I also don't have gas hook up. I wonder if Wolf makes them electric.

Speaking of the finer things in life, it's a relief when hubby finally has full time work after 3 months of job hunting. Let's just say, my worries are valid and it could be worse but not much. Perhaps HGTV will be awarding me in their contest for a brand new dream home. I wouldn't mind moving to Colorado again. Not one bit. I bet you that house has a nice oven.

12 March 2007

emotionally speaking

This is all I have to give right now. I'm on the mend, for those inquiring.

By the way, I have a new little blog bling on my sidebar. Apparently, I'm a thinker and it's contagious. I have been awarded by the amazing RedNeck Mommy.

I'm very thankful to accept this and now I must award five others upon acceptance (see the official rules and go get your own bling here). These are people that make you go, "Hmmmmm" or better yet, "darn it, I wish I posted that!"

When you nominate, your winners are not necessarily to be your best friends, or favorite links..of course, unless they are your best friends and favorite links that make you think. (post note: My closest friends usually make me laugh and wet myself)

Congratulations to my winners of The Thinking Awards:
  1. Jeremiah from Jeremiah's School of Levitation
  2. JLR at Impatient Chicken
  3. Harmonica Man over at View From The Cloud
  4. Pattie at Stolen Moments
  5. Gwynee at The Shallow End

and now for something completely different......

Your EQ is 140

50 or less: Thanks for answering honestly. Now get yourself a shrink, quick!
51-70: When it comes to understanding human emotions, you'd have better luck understanding Chinese.
71-90: You've got more emotional intelligence than the average frat boy. Barely.
91-110: You're average. It's easy to predict how you'll react to things. But anyone could have guessed that.
111-130: You usually have it going on emotionally, but roadblocks tend to land you on your butt.
131-150: You are remarkable when it comes to relating with others. Only the biggest losers get under your skin.
150+: Two possibilities - you've either out "Dr. Phil-ed" Dr. Phil... or you're a dirty liar.

08 March 2007

It's a Sickness Really

Despite public opinion, I do wash my hands.

I don't lick the floor at Walmart.

I've stopped chewing the strap on the transit train.

I've even quit hanging out at the TB clinic.

My friends can attest it's not my fault. They've heard me on the phone and my voice has gone from normal to froggy to a nice Lauren Bacall gravelly tone. After a bottle of scotch and four packs of ciggies a day.

In between my coughing spasms, I was watching the news today.  

Let's just say, I was struck by how much Nancy Pelosi and Fire Marshall Bill look alike. (I know, I went there but I can blame this political humor on my drugged up state)

Let's just say, you're a Democratic Congress in a Republican-President World. You wanna get those troops home so, whaddaya do? You waste time and precious energy to pass a bill that the President's gonna veto faster than the government can say smoke detector.

Sometimes I wonder why I even vote.

05 March 2007

everyone who IMs says, "HAY!!"

I am sick this week. See you when I don't feel dead or dying.


Give without lifting a finger!

Technically, it's lifting 10 of them....depending on how you type.

The IM Program is a new thing from Windows Live Messenger that shares a portion of it's advertising revenue with the below organizations. Apparently, this only works with Windows Live Messenger 8.1.

From the top of your Windows Live Messenger window, click the arrow next to your name and select "Options".

Next to your name, type one of the following codes, including the asterisk, for the cause you'd like to support. It will change into a symbol when you click 'OK'

Text Code and the Cause

*red+u American Red Cross

*bgca Boys & Girls Club

*naf National AIDS Fund

*mssoc National Multiple Sclerosis Society

*9mil ninemillion.org

*sierra Sierra Club

*help StopGlobalWarming.org

*komen Susan G. Komen for the Cure

*unicef The US fund for UNICEF

I picked the National Multiple Sclerosis Society in honor of bloggers Foo & Turtle and also SarahGrace. Every little bit helps!

Feel free to copy this post, link, or share it on your blog.

02 March 2007

it's been so lonesome in the saddle since my horse died

Thanks to all who commented on my Helium posts. It was lengthy, unfortunately necessary, and any further action I'm taking regarding the TOS will be me sticking a fork in it, because that subject's done. The horse is beat. The chicken is plucked. The cat is out of it's mind and the cow jumped over the moon. Mooooving on.

I found this picture of me when I was 16. Darn her for thinking she was fat. The dress wasn't mine. Mine was green and it looked hideous against my friends dress, so the photog had one for me to wear. I look like a Love Boat cocktail waitress.

I've recently read something (don't go there, it's PLUCKED remember!!) and I wondered what blogs do people like to read (or don't) read and why?

Hotly debated issues such as religion or politics make me nuts. Everyone bickers for comment after comment. It's rare someone listens. I would consider myself a moderate conservative but there are too many hot heads out there to publicly converse without someone butting in calling another visitor a religious right-winged freak or a liberal atheist Nazi..or Ted Kennedy or something.

Personally, I'm one for a good sarcastic laugh. Not crude writing with liberal amounts of f-bombs, but the ironies of life. I'm talking about the horrors of gravity, demolition derby carpooling, getting time to devour a favorite book, and facing your tucked in toddler when you can't find her "My Little Pony Peeno" to save your life. Now that is a blog I can read.

How about you? What is your favorite and or least favorite kind of blog?