Oh My Goodyness...He's been arrested!

Let me tell you about work today. This is some really great shtuff!
We had some people picketing in front of one of our resorts because...(and I'm NOT kidding)... that particular resort does not have an indoor pool. (It has 2 beautiful outdoor pools and it is about a hundred degrees here and not raining... I ask you, what the hell?
Anywhooo...the contracts manager, who is a good friend of mine went outside to kinda defend our honour, so to speak, and damned if the cops didn't cuff him and put him in the squad car! Nevermind the people picketing on private property and blocking our driveway when people are trying to get here to check in, just cuff the dude who is doing his job.
I am saying this with a big fat smile: I took pictures and they are funny.
Also, it's Iris's Birthday today. HAPPY BIRTHDAY IRIS!!!!!

Shooter

After going on my mini-tirade about politics yesterday, I went home last night and watched a movie called Shooter (Mark Wahlberg). This movie did not help the conspiracy theorist within, let me just tell you. It's a great movie, though. You should check it out if you like action flicks.

Politics

What is it they say? Never talk about Sex, Religion or Politics, right? Well, I generally try to keep these posts to the lighthearted side of things, but this morning I was watching some news program while getting ready for work and it really pissed me off.
The entire show was a question/answer forum and the reporter would fire off questions to 3 or 4 different politicians and they would answer...or would they? Not really. I absolutely hate the way politicians skirt the subject or talk about "strategies." Strategy? What the hell does strategy have to do with it? Or better yet, what SHOULD strategy have to do with it?
I wish I had counted the number of times one of these politicians said something to the tune of, "Well, Hillary (or Obama or Rudy or Fred) needs to go about this in a way that....blah blah blah." Or (insert name here) needs to realize the impact that this will have on his/her campaign if...blah blah strategy...blah bullshit strategy...
You know what I (emphasis on I) think? I think if we didn't have one of the most crooked governments in the world, our candidates would not need to worry about strategy. I think that if our government was not so steeped in corruption, the candidates would be able to come out on their little platforms and talk to us like the intelligent human beings we are, lay out all of the facts, tell us how they really feel and then let us decide. Unfortunately, as far as I'm concerned, we have one of the most shady, unprincipled governments in the world. Apparently since it's the government of the USA, though, those who run it get to focus on how unethical some other countries are without answering for their own shortcomings.
These politicians are always talking about how OBVIOUS it is that they need to take this strategy or that strategy when it seems OBVIOUS to me (and pretty much everyone else I speak to) that they are running this country into the ground, most of the rest of the world is, at least, wary of us if not downright pissed at us and we just keep trucking on, condemning everyone else, pointing fingers all around without any accountability for what we do.
I can only hope and pray that the citizens of these other countries that we so often pick on or piss off understand that the everyday citizen like myself does not condone this bullshit behavior.
Ouch...I just fell off my soapbox, so that is all for now...Good day. I SAID GOOD DAY!

Disclaimer: I don't feel that ALL politicians are bad. I do feel that most of the good ones do not get the same opportunities that the good ole strategists get. Also, I'm a little bitch today.

I HAVE Arrived....er, Returned!

Well, I've been back from vacation for over a week, but what a week it's been. For the 5 of you who read this blog (snicker, snort, laugh)...sorry for the delay. I'm sure you've been waiting with bated breath.
First off: Trip Report
My son, Dalton, and I arrived in Eureka Springs on Tuesday morning, checked into some less than desirable accomodations (never staying in that Bed and Breakfast again) and set out shopping. I, being the ultra-smart mom that I am, knew if we didn't go shopping first, I would never hear the end of his longing for a new knife. (leave it to this semi-pacifist to have a son who collects knives. I know what you're asking and the answer is "semi" because sometimes people really, really piss me off).
ANYWAY (I'm getting so far off the subject that I'm starting to sound like my friend Mike), we hiked around Eureka while we were shopping and took a lot of cool pictures, too. Then it was off to the Crescent Hotel for the Ghost Tour. (Visit here http://www.eureka-springs-ghost.com/ for more information on that). What a great time this was! It's not the BOO, I BET I SCARED YOU kind of spook house, but an historic hotel with quite a past and some other worldy visitors. Definitely worth the trip.
Wednesday, we went to Blue Spring (http://www.bluespringheritage.com/) and did some hiking and more photography. It was hotter than Hell's attic, but we hardly noticed the heat because we were having so much fun.
Of course, the dining was fantastic all the way around, as it always is in Eureka Springs and the folks who live there were as nice as ever.
Since I've been home, my step-daughter has given us quite a scare with a trip to the ER, a spinal tap and a diagnosis of Viral Meningitis. She's doing okay now.
I went the very next day to the ER with a migraine I could not get control of.
I bought a new horse, which I've already managed to....erm...unseat myself from. It was quite a distance to the ground and dear gods I am sore, but shall recover to ride again (to the horse's dismay, I'm sure...lazy creatures).
The rest of the week has been filled with work, the drive to work and the drive home from work. Who the hell works 40 miles from their home?
Oh yeah, I also sold my truck to a crackhead.
I'd say that about catches everything up to this point.
HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND....all 5 of you! ;-)

Death of the Tooth Fairy

My cousin called the other day to tell me that her sons had been up to no good. Not unusual for them, but this episode really takes the cake:
She has 2 boys, 5 and 3 years old. The older one had discovered he had a loose tooth and went to ask his mom how much money he would get from the tooth fairy for it. She told him he would probably get a dollar and apparently, he thought that was right up town. So, he and his little brother went to work on it right away. They tied string around his tooth and he gave said string to his little brother and told him to yank out the tooth. Little brother did yank and it must have been a good one because....tah dah.... they managed to yank out the wrong tooth. It was the tooth NEXT to the loose tooth. My cousin has been trying to figure out how to discourage the boys from this kind of behaviour without telling them the tooth fairy does not really exist.
My mom wasn't so thoughtful (not that I blame her considering the circumstances)...

You see, when I was a child, my dad worked out of town a lot and I would sleep in mom's bedroom with her. Basically we were both huge fraidy cats and both afraid to sleep alone. So, one night after I lost a tooth, I placed it carefully under my pillow in my mom's bed and went to sleep. The next morning when I awoke I remembered that I should have some money under the pillow and went fishing for it. Mom was still asleep when I started screaming, TWENTY-SIX DOLLARS!!! TWENTY-SIX DOLLARS!!! THE TOOTH FAIRY LEFT ME TWENTY-SIX DOLLARS!" Mom woke up in midst of the hysterical screaming, blinked a few times, got a horrified look of comprehension on her face and said, "Give that back, it was supposed to be three dollars." She had mistakenly given me a twenty, a five and a one instead of three ones. Thus ended the little pink wing-ed one's illustrious career in my home...

So, that brings up a question. How did you find out there was no such thing as the Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny or any other childhood characters? Were you traumatized, surprised or expecting it? Do tell!

By the way, have I mentioned? I'M GOING ON VACATION TOMORROW!!!! Sure it's only 3 days, but it counts!!!

The Indestructible Comb-Over!

I was sitting in my office chatting with a friend of mine this morning when I noticed her staring out the window with a confused look on her face. I looked in the direction her head was turned and saw none other than THE MOST FANTASTIC, AWE-INSPIRING COMB-OVER, EVER!!!
If the sun wore a wig, THIS is what it would look like! If Phoebe Buffet and C. Montgomery Burns popped out a kid, this would be his hair at age 60 (hair's pretty thin, but let's spike it really good around the back)!
I have long suspected that the reason men go on with the travesty that is the comb-over is that most of them cannot see the place where they part it to do the combing over and, hey, if you can't see it in the mirror then it can't be that bad, right?
If this guy would pay me enough, I would just follow him around announcing his hair with jazz hands:
INTRODUCING........................(drum roll)......... THE COMB-OVER!!!!! (jazz hands)........

Call in the Replacements...

Dear Fleemco,
Could you please replace my codgy old husband with someone who would like to go out and do something that doesn't involve livestock or our yard? A little culture would do just the trick and then you can send him back.
Thank you sincerely

Girl Friday, Part 2...of a miniseries.

I just finished listening to 30 (and I'm not kidding one damn, tiny little bit) minutes of Girl Friday going on about the boil her son has between his wee little butt cheeks. Before you go all pissy on me, YES, I feel very sorry for the little tyke. I do not, however, feel the need to hear what it looks like, what it's consistency is, how many times she's squeezed it or the description of how he sits in the bath. CALL ME CRAZY!
I think I'm going to have to work on my "stealth" mode. If I were just a bit more stealthy, maybe I could avoid her altogether.

On a fantastically upbeat note: 1 more day until my mini-vacation!!!!

Hell's Driving Exam

I was just over at http://thetotallytransparentparty.blogspot.com/ reading her latest and it made me think about taking my driver's test when I was 16.

I grew up in a town with a population of 1,920 people. Not exactly a metropolis. We did not even have one single, solitary stoplight. (17 years later, they have managed to get one, but just the one). Anyway, we didn't even have a Department of Motor Vehicles, so I had to go elsewhere to test.
I turned 16 on a Friday, which I initially thought was going to be great because I'd go get my license and then I'd be able to cruise around all weekend (after all, I'd started driving on the farm when I was 6 and had driven all over the county by the time I'd turned 16. I mean to say, what could POSSIBLY go wrong?). Well, let me just tell you...
First, I woke up with a cold sore which caused me to have a fat lip. That was going to look good in the picture and god knows a 16 year old girl could have her entire life come to a halt if her drivers licence picture doesn't look good. Eventually I stopped having a fit and started trying to disguise it with make-up.
Next, I found out that the only place in the area where you could take your exam on a Friday was Springfield, which was about 25 miles away and the 3rd largest city in my state. Okay, YOU are probably thinking what I SHOULD have been thinking...grew up in a town with no stoplight, taking test in 3rd largest city in the state...maybe not the swiftest idea, right? But, I dragged my mother up there in my dad's little pick-up truck, insistent that I get my license that day so that I could cruise with my friends all weekend.
Naturally, they make you take your written test first and I passed that with a 95%. Great, huh? Then the examiner followed me out to my dad's truck and began his inspection of the vehicle and...no horn. "You can't take the driving part of the test if your horn doesn't work," said he. "WHAT? Whine, bitch, moan, whine, whine, whine, beg," said I. He was not tempted to break the rules, even with all the whining. In fact, I'm quite certain that he had heard it all before. SO, back to my hometown to get our other truck and then repeat trip to DMV.
Returned in our other pick-up. Examiner guy comes back out and...no left blinker. At this point, I was nothing less than completely distraught. I mean, how many times could I expect my mother to cart me back and forth, 50 miles round trip, just because I could not POSSIBLY wait until Monday to get this coveted license-thingy?! That day she was a saint. She drove me back home and called her best friend to see if I could borrow her pick-up. (Can you tell I grew up in a farming community? We all drove trucks).
One last trip back Springfield, vehicle passed inspection and... nearing the end of my driving exam, I ran a red light (remember those foreign things we did not have in my town?) and almost hit a cop car. Needless to say, after all of that, I flunked SPECTACULARLY... What else was there to do but go clothes shopping to make myself feel better? It did work a little.

After a weekend of sensational sulking, I went to the town just West of ours and passed my driving exam. To finish off one of the biggest "traveshamockeries" of my illustrious career so far, I managed to completely botch my picture anyway. The photographer at the DMV said, "Ready?" I said, "huh?" And for the next several years, HUH?, is exactly what you would have thought had you seen that picture. I couldn't even pull it out of my purse like the rest of my friends and triumphantly squeal, "Like, dude! Check it out! I got my license!"

Dastardly Coworkers

I have had one of the absolutely shittiest days at work today. You know the drill. You work in a building with a hundred other people and it's inevitable that you will butt heads sometimes. Thankfully, the universe has seen fit to lighten the mood for me (thanks universe...).

I went to use the restroom and when I turned to flush I saw....my dental floss from this morning floating there in the ole chamber pot. I stared for a good five seconds trying to figure this one out and can only conclude that when I threw it away this morning, it didn't make it to the trash. Obviously it was stuck to me when I got dressed. Needless to say, I cracked completely up standing there in the stall. When I recounted this tale to a friend of mine who was also having a shitty day, we went into absolute FITS of laughter.
I think I shall survive this day after all...

Dr. Jekyl and Princess Hyde

My mother is a drinker. I don't know where to go from there. There are 32 years of not-so-nice history between the two of us and her little habit. That's not what this is about, though. THIS is about her mocking me yesterday. Slurringly mocking me. Slocking me, if you will. I am not impressed...
You see when mommy isn't drinking she is mommy. She is witty, intelligent and well-spoken. When she is drinking, she is roughly the equivilent of Satan's Sister. (I can say this with some authority as Satan's Sister actually does work with me).
Over the years, I've devised plans to interact with her ONLY when I know she is not drunk. Eg. I don't answer my phone after 6pm when I see it is her calling. I only attend her mandatory family functions until around 2pm. Since she starts drinking at breakfast, 2 is a good time to shag out. You get the idea.
Sometimes, though, she sneaks in on you when you are least expecting it. Yesterday, I was driving home from work. The phone rang. It was mom and it was just now 6pm:
Me: Hello?
Mommy Dearest (MD): Where are YOU? (The word "you" was absolutely SOAKED in venom.)
Me: On my way home from work. What's up? (I always try to remain at my most chipper when she is in this state. I'm not sure if I hope it will encourage her to do the same or if because I know it absolutely enrages her for someone to DARE be cheery when she is so seething with drunken anger. I cheerfully suspect it is the latter).
MD: What the hell ish going on at work? (you see, I, in a blind fit of stupidity, helped her get a job at the same place I work).
Me: Whatever do you mean?
MD: Well, mah bossh just called and shaid I don't have to work morrow. Firsht he shays I do and then he shays I do not. I wish shomeone would tell me when the hell I'm shupposhed work...
Me: He did. You don't have to work tomorrow.

TO WHICH SHE SAID: "He did...You don't have to work amorrow," in a MOST infuriatingly mocking tone.
I hung up on her, panicked about hanging up on her, decided it was a job well done, panicked again and then spent the rest of the drive home thinking about it.
I finally decided after hashing the whole thing over and worrying about what she might do today that it is highly unlikely she will even remember we had this conversation. Although, it's 1:30 now and she hasn't rang as of yet....re-panicking a little... She could, after all, ban my little sisters from coming to see me. Oh HELL!

Girl's Day Out

Well, I spent Tuesday with one of my dearest friends. The order of the day went something like:
1. Shopping
2. Lunch
3. Shopping
4. Shopping (many shoes were bought)
5. Pedicures
6. Ice Cream (funnel cake for me, thank you).
Does it get ANY better than that??!!

A good looking guy asked for my friend's number. She's been married for a bit now, so she was completely shocked and it made me laugh. "Can you believe he asked for my number?" Of course I can, now be happy and flattered like you should be...

"BERT" (said with much fake enthusiasm) was our waiter for lunch. If you need anything, just holler for BERT (fake smile). Do you really need more lemon for your tea??? Well, let BERT get it for you (even though he's now looking at you like anyone who needs more than 3 slices of lemon in their tea is absolutely barking mad). BERT doesn't seem overly fond of his job...

AND THEN THERE WERE PEDICURES. My friend and I, each in our own massage chair, in a private room together (does that make it semi-private?) letting someone else pamper our cute little tootsies. Or my monkey toes and her stove-pipe toes, however you want to look at it.
Good Day...

Those clever English people!

I just did a closing with a couple from England and they used words like cheeky and splendid. They called me "love."
I like those English people...

Farewell Joel...

Woe. Woe and sorrow.
I sat this morning trying to put my make-up on and watching Good Morning America while the whole troupe from the show, past and present, lamented the loss of their beloved movie critic, Joel Siegel.
Unaware that he had cancer, I was naturally surprised.
It was really a very nice show this morning. The reporters all telling their favorite stories about time spent with Joel. Actors and Directors calling in to share as well. I hunkered in my favorite recliner (those hidey holes in the arms are perfect for keeping my make-up in!) trying to apply eyeliner and keep the tears back at the same time.
It was that damned Diane Sawyer who caused it. As she started to sign off for a commercial, she lost her voice and began to cry (in a very classy Diane Sawyer type way) and I completely lost it. I cannot bear to see another human cry, let alone Diane Sawyer! Tears my heart out, you see.
I did not know much about Joel Siegel until this morning, but by all accounts he was an intelligent, positive, loving, giving person. A rarity, especially among the usual wolf-dog pack of Hollywood critics. It seemed a very well deserved send-off given by people he most certainly loved. Very nice.
Many many thoughts have whirled around my head today after watching this. One of them being, How does that Diane Sawyer cry while still looking so classy and collected?" I start to cry and my whole face goes into a rage of twitches fit to cause all manner of panic. And I can't talk when I'm crying. I sound like Charlie Brown's teacher. Good for her. That Diane Sawyer sure is uptown.
Another thing is that they talked about the fact that Joel's physician had suggested he go get a colonoscopy when he was 50. He waited until he was 53 and, although he lived for 12 more years with treatment, the doctor confirmed that if he had received the test a mere 3 years earlier, it would have saved his life. I find that very sad, especially considering what a kind, life-loving person he seemed to be. It's amazing that such a short period of time could cause such a difference in the outcome. Incredibly glum..
And finally, I think that the way the staff of GMA handled his sending off was perfect. Rather than sorrowfully mourn his loss, the show was dedicated to celebrating his life. What better send off could a person ask for? As far as I'm concerned, take my ashes and throw them someplace nice and then let the party begin!

Tell us what you really think...

Before I go into this story, I need to explain what kind of town I'm talking about when I talk about Eureka Springs. It is a quaint, historic little town where EVERYONE is welcomed. Any alternative lifestyle can be found in the beautiful people who live in this area. It is a lovely place full of lovely people of all ages, shapes, colors, creeds and styles and I am always joyously happy when I am among them. That said...
I was doing a closing the other day with an ordinary looking couple who sat across from me as if they were just normal polite human beings...looks can be so deceiving.
As the husband was going through the stack of paper I had given him, repeatedly signing his name, I began making small talk with the Mrs.
Me: So, I see you don't live far from Eureka Springs. My husband and I visit there a lot for
the different festivals.
Her: I never go there. I won't expose myself or my children to that place (place said with such ferocity that I almost didn't continue in this vein).
Curiosity getting the best of me, though, I asked her if she had had a bad experience there in the past and she answered:
Well, you KNOW they've made it legal to smoke MARIJUANA there, don't you?
I know that they've made it a low priority to arrest people who carry small amounts of it.
Well, they're probably just standing around on the street corners smoking it up all over town!
I didn't see anyone smoking it up while I was there.
Well, they support homosexuality (whispered as if saying it out loud would cause her want to crawl under the table and begin licking my cooch that immediate second).
Yes, it's a very diverse community.
AND THE BIKERS, Oh, they're just everywhere.
Yeah, Fucking 2 wheeled motorists, they are...wtf!!? (this one I just thought to myself as I
would like to continue making a living by not pissing off new owners).

I thought for a fleeting moment maybe the Mr. would tell her to shut her mouth, but no such warning came because this wormy little turd was too busy nodding his head and agreeing with everything Mrs. Bigot said like some underfed dog waiting for a crumb if he did his tricks right.
By the time I was done making their copies and sending them on their way, I was flushed and angry and biting my tongue like never before. I IMMEDIATELY called my husband who laughed uncontrollably at me, knowing how hard it was for me to keep my mouth shut and not unload on this uncouth bitch.
Wake up people. It's 2007. Bigotry - unacceptable.

Girl Friday, feck off!

So, I'm sitting in my office, quietly reading and generally enjoying my day when a co-worker of mine trots in and (without invitation) makes herself comfortable in one of my poufy chairs. I say to myself, "Ah, no biggy, she'll have to return to her office before long." It soon became quite clear that I was sadly and sorely mistaken.

I stifled yawns during the story of her newly born baby fish. She and her husband are perfectly capable of raising them WITHOUT everyone elses advice because her husband has had fish before (if only owning something DID make you an expert...).

I thought seriously about just yelling at her to shut the feck up when she started in about her 3 year old son who is still not potty trained and his father who won't help with the potty training. Since she and I will probably continue to work here together, I had to rule that out.

I began having thoughts of suicide when she rattled on about her brother who she has decided is gay (and so what if he is, good for him, I thought) and who still lives at home, buying his mother make-up from QVC. Really. I thought to myself that just maybe, if I jumped out the window, I could get away. A picture entered my -so bored I could absolutely fall over dead from it head-in which I stealthily jumped through said window, landing on the second-story deck and then grabbed the deck railing to gracefully glide over the side and land lightly on the fresh green grass below where I would run screaming to my vehicle and speed away... I lost track of what she was talking about and in the same instance realized it didn't matter because it's all the same.
Whine Whine blah...whine blah blah.. whine bitch blah... blah blah whine... Really, does she not have anything to do in her office??

My dear old dad has a saying that goes, "If you stop broadcasting and start tuning in, you just might learn something." Well, let me tell you, this particular girl is in no immediate danger of education.