I'm officially a bag lady.

Thanks to my friends at Simply Bags, I am now a bag lady!

Check it out:

How cool is that? It's got my monogram and everything!

This bag is great, it's huge and has plenty of room for whatever you need to carry. This one is their Beach Tote, and I'm taking it to Vegas with me this weekend.

Because you know there is PLENTY of beach in Las Vegas. Just no ocean. Haha

Seriously, it will make a great carry on for the plane ride because it is so roomy, and I can stash all kinds of things in it. It's made out of a heavy canvas'ish material, fully lined with a zippered top, and cool rope handles. I love it!

Bob and his wife have a fabulous selection of personalized bags on their website and are very reasonably priced. They should be charging way more for the quality of these bags!!!

Be sure to check out SIMPLY BAGS and tell them your favorite bag lady (me!) sent you.

The roller coaster has slowed down

The hospital sent Mom back to the nursing home last night. I snapped this picture because I didn't get one of us together on Mother's Day.

She's happy to be "home".

They said there is nothing more they can do for her. She has a "slow leak" in her bowel due to diverticulitis, and it cannot be fixed without surgery....but she is not a candidate for surgery due to her advanced age and health.

So I guess we just take this day by day, monitor her blood count and go from there.

I feel a little better with her being back at the nursing home only because she's with her friends, and the staff fawns all over her and everybody loves her, and I know how happy that makes her. I'd rather see her there than laying alone in a room in a hospital, because we cannot be there with her 24 hours a day.

Thank you all for your prayers and good thoughts this past few days. My family and I greatly appreciate all the wonderful healing energy you put out there in the Universe for us, and for our Mom. We know our time with her is limited, but once again she's proven herself to be a tough old bird, and she's not ready to go yet.

And that's perfectly okay with me.

No real change to report.

Just a quick check in to say, nothing new to report.

Mom is still in ICU although she's in a step-down unit now. She's still bleeding from somewhere but they cannot determine where. We give her blood and her levels go up, and then they go back down. On Friday, her kidneys had shut down and she was running a fever, but they are working better now and the fever is gone. Saturday was a good day, she appeared to be stable, no blood loss, levels were around 10 where they should be and we felt maybe we'd turned a corner and were headed in the right direction.

Sunday morning brought news that her blood level was 7.9, the lowest it's been. Seems we turned back around that corner and took a major leap in the wrong direction.

Last night after giving her 2 pints of blood she was back up to 11.1, but then this morning she was back down to 10. So clearly all we keep doing is topping off her tank and then she runs out of gas again.

It's been a roller coaster to say the least.

I don't know where we go from here. All I know is that the feeling of dread follows me everywhere. My stomach is one big knot. I actually had the start of an anxiety attack in the grocery store yesterday, and was doing Lamaze breathing in the frozen foods trying to calm myself down.

Oh, and I'm supposed to be leaving for Vegas on Sunday. Maybe. That of course, depends on what the situation is then.

The doctors anticipate sending her back to the nursing home as soon as her blood stabilizes, but will not do so until then. They say the nursing home can do the same blood tests they are doing and monitor the levels as well. I don't feel as confident about her being there as I do in the hospital, even though they've taken very good care of her so far....still, the hospital provides a dedicated nurse to her, where in the nursing home they are already short handed.

I don't know.

Part of me wants her to get better, the selfish part that isn't ready to let go of my Mom. Another part of me wants her to just let go, because she has little quality of life as it is. She sleeps 20 hours out of 24 a day, she's basically up for meals and that's it. It's become very difficult to take her out for holidays and things because she can barely stand, so getting her in and out of a car is very difficult.

I would not want to live that way. And I know that she doesn't either. Because it isn't "living". It's existing.

I want what is best for her. Stop this back and forth shit, let's figure out what's bleeding and IF it can be fixed with minor repair. If it can't then we know what our options are.

I. Just. Want. To. Know.

This limbo is killing me.

I guess I know where I'll be spending Mother's Day

My mom was rushed to the ER yesterday as she was hemmoraging. After 10 hours there, and another two waiting for her to get scoped, they've determined that she was bleeding inside her colon but not sure exactly where. The bleeding has stopped, which is why they can't pinpoint where it was coming from. They had to give her a blood transfusion, and she's in ICU right now. Now today, they are concerned that she's not putting out enough urine even though she's had plenty of IV hydration. That makes me wonder if her kidneys are shutting down?

We have to make some decisions as her family as to what course of treatment to take. She's 85 years old, and pretty frail, although in pretty good health physically, her heart and lungs are strong, etc. The surgeon tells us this bleeding will recur, and continue to recur, it's basically either a result of blood vessels in the colon bursting (from old age) or diverticulitis. The common fix is surgery, but at her advanced age she's really not a candidate for that. So the question becomes do we continue to transfuse blood into her when it happens, which is basically just prolonging the inevitable, or do we do nothing and let nature take it's course?

And how do you make that decision about your mother, or anyone you love for that matter?

Yesterday was a tough day. Today we are dividing up shifts at the hospital among my sisters and me. I'm going into work for the day (assuming nothing bad happens), and then my shift starts at 4pm. We're really just in a holding pattern, waiting to see if she starts to bleed again and then figuring out what to do from there.

So I'll be spending Mother's Day in the hospital with my Mom. It may be our last one together. I'm not counting her out yet, though....she's a tough little bird. She's had us convinced more than once that she was moving on and she rallied and stayed with us. I just want what is best for her, and I've turned her over to God and put her in His hands. After all, He knows far more than I do about what's best.

My wish for all of my readers who are mothers, is that you have a wonderful day on Sunday celebrating with your children. And if you are lucky enough to still have your mother here with you, please cherish every second you have with her.

Happy Mother's Day a little early, ladies.

I love you, Mom.

A Survival Guide for Pooping at Work

I couldn't help myself, I had to post this. I try not to engage in too much gross humor on my blog but this one just begged for attention! We've all been there....

A Survival Guide for Pooping at Work

CROP DUSTING: When farting, you walk really fast around the office, so the smell isn't in your area. Everyone else gets a whiff, but doesn't know where it came from. Be extremely careful when you do this. Don't stop until the full fart has been fully expelled. Walk an extra 30 feet to make sure the entire smell has left your pants/panty area.

FLY BY: The act of scouting out a bathroom before pooping. Walk in and check for other poopers. If there are others in the bathroom, leave and come back again. Be careful not to become a FREQUENT FLYER. People may become suspicious if they catch you constantly going into the bathroom.

ESCAPEE: A fart that slips out while taking a leak at the urinal or forcing a poop in a stall. This is usually accompanied by a sudden wave of embarrassment. If you release an escapee, do not acknowledge it. Pretend it didn't happen. If you are standing next to the farter in the urinal, pretend you didn't hear it. No one likes an escapee. It is uncomfortable for all involved. Making a joke or laughing makes both parties feel uneasy.

JAILBREAK: When forcing a poop, several farts slip out at a machine gun pace. This is usually a side effect of diarrhea or a hangover. If this should happen, don't panic! Remain in the stall until everyone has left the bathroom to spare everyone the awkwardness of what just occurred.

COURTESY FLUSH: The act of flushing the toilet the instant the poop hits the water. This reduces the amount of air time the poop has to stink up the bathroom. This can help you avoid being caught doing the WALK OF SHAME.

WALK OF SHAME: Walking from the stall, to the sink, to the door after you have just stunk up the bathroom. This can be a very uncomfortable moment if someone walks in and busts you. As with farts, it's best to pretend that the smell doesn't exist. This can be avoided with the use of the COURTESY FLUSH.

OUT OF THE CLOSET POOPER: A colleague who poops at work and is damn proud of it. You will often see an OUT OF THE CLOSET POOPER enter the bathroom with a newspaper and/or magazine under their arm. Always look around the office for the OUT OF THE CLOSET POOPER before entering the bathroom.

THE POOPING FRIENDS NETWORK: (P.F.N.) A group of co-workers who band together to ensure emergency pooping goes off without incident. This group can help you to monitor the whereabouts of the OUT OF THE CLOSET POOPERS,and identify SAFE HAVENS.

SAFE HAVENS: A seldom used bathroom somewhere in the building where you can least expect visitors. Try floors that are predominantly of the opposite sex. This will reduce the odds of a pooper of your sex entering the bathroom.

TURD BURGLAR: Someone who does not realize that you are in the stall and tries to force the door open. This is one of the most shocking and vulnerable moments that can occur when taking a poop at work. If this occurs, remain in the stall until the TURD BURGLAR leaves. This way, you'll avoid all uncomfortable eye contact.

CAMO-COUGH: A phony cough that alerts all new entrants into the bathroom that you are in a stall. This can be used to cover-up a WATERMELON, or to alert potential TURD BURGLARS. Very effective when used in conjunction with an ASTAIRE.

ASTAIRE: A subtle toe-tap, that is used to alert potential TURD BURGLARS that you're occupying a stall. This will remove all doubt that the stall is occupied. If you hear an ASTAIRE, leave the bathroom immediately so the pooper can poop in peace.

WATERMELON: A poop that creates a loud splash when hitting the toilet water. This is also an embarrassing incident. If you feel a WATERMELON coming on, create a diversion. See CAMO-COUGH.

HAVANA OMELET: A case of diarrhea that creates a series of loud splashes in the toilet water. Often accompanied by an ESCAPEE. Try using a CAMO-COUGH with an ASTAIRE.

UNCLE TED: A bathroom user who seems to linger around forever. Could spend extended lengths of time in front of the mirror or sitting on the pot. An UNCLE TED makes it difficult to relax while on the crapper, as you should always wait to poop when the bathroom is empty. This benefits you as well as the other bathroom attendees.

Orange you glad you missed this?

Well, I spray tanned last week.

:::shudder::::

It wasn't pretty.

Here I am, in all my orange glory. Spotty, blotchy orange glory, mind you.

I was two sequins away from being ready for Dancing with the Stars.

(PS. I look really fat in this top, it's one from before I lost weight so there's lots of leftover fabric. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. Oh, and note to self, green and orange only go together if you're the Irish flag)

(PSS. Seriously, dude. The blonde hair has to go. I suspected it wasn't a good look for me, but seeing this picture confirmed it. I have no Blonde Ambition. I do not belong in the Blondtourage. With this white hair and orange skin, I look like a freaking Creamsicle)

I don't get it. The dancers always look fantastic on DWTS! And think about it, all the celebrities on the red carpet....fantastic tans.

Kelly Ripa looks damn amazing every freaking morning on Regis and Kelly with her spray tan. (Of course, next to Reege, I'd look pretty damn good myself. Can. Not. Stand. That. Guy. He is like fingernails on a chalkboard to me.)

So why not me?

Is it true that hormones can have an affect on the end result? I did everything I was supposed to do...exfoliated the hell out of myself before I went, showered so there was no perfumes, lotions, deodorant, or make up on me that could interfere with the darkening process. Didn't shower for 8 hours afterwards.

(Note to anyone spray tanning....don't sleep on white sheets until after you shower. My bed looked like a crime scene the next morning.)

I'm like a human Cheeto.

Spray tanning is clearly not the answer to my Bronzed Goddess plans.

But wait...it gets better. You should see it NOW. It's come off in blotches. It's like watching a bad paint job peel. Half a foot is tan, the other half isn't. Half an ankle looks dirty. My calf is brown but there are drip marks going down the side of my leg.

I look like a melting Creamsicle.

Myrtle Booth, here I come.

OK fess up.

So I'm standing in my shower this morning, looking at my Scrubbing Bubbles thingy that hangs on the shower head.

You know what this is, it's the battery operated thing that sprays shower cleaning stuff all over the place to keep away the crud and mildew.

Suddenly I start reading the label on the back.

OK fess up. Which one of you out there is using this as a body wash?

Seriously.

Somebody is, or it wouldn't be on the warning label.

I want to meet the complete idiot person who stood there looking at this thing and thought "Wow, I can save a step if I just push the button *before* I get out of the shower, and use this as soap! Sweet!"

It's not shampoo either, people. Your hair does not need to smell tile fresh.

So whoever you are, step out of the shower and away from the Scrubbing Bubbler, and THEN push the button.

You're welcome.

Friday Thoughts on Marriage

"I don't worry about terrorism. I was married for two years." - Sam Kinnison


"I'd marry again if I found a man who had 15 million and would sign over half of it to me before the marriage and guarantee he'd be dead within a year." - Bette Davis


"Ditto." - Julie Reeg


BTW...Happy Birthday, Amanda!!!!!!!!!!!!

I dare you to say you can't identify.

I swear I am pretty much every one of these things, or at least believe in them. Thanks, Danica!!!


Truths for Mature Humans

1. I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.

2. Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.

3. I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.

4. There is great need for a sarcasm font.

5. How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

6. Was learning cursive really necessary?

7. Map Quest really needs to start their directions on # 5. I'm pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.

9. I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.

10. Bad decisions make good stories.

11. You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you know that you just aren't going to do anything productive for the rest of the day.

12. Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after Blue Ray? I don't want to have to restart my collection...again.

13. I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to
my ten-page technical report that I swear I did not make any changes to.

14. "Do not machine wash or tumble dry" means I will never wash this - ever.

15. I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Damn it!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voice mail. What did you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?

16. I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.

17. I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.

18. I think the freezer deserves a light as well.

19. I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lite than Kay.

20. Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what the heck was going on when I first saw it.

21. I would rather try to carry 10 over-loaded plastic bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.

22. I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.

23. How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear or understand a word they said?

24. I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars team up to prevent a jerk from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers and sisters!

25. Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty, and you can wear them forever.

26. There's no worse feeling than that millisecond you're sure you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little too far.

27. Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.

28. Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating their car keys in a pocket, finding their cell phone, and Pinning the Tail on the Donkey - but I bet everyone can find and push the snooze button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time, every time

I'm a player.

I'm recycling blogs this week. Swamped with work and other crap going on. I'll be back with new stuff Friday!!!

GAMES FOR WHEN WE ARE OLDER
1. Sag, you're It.
2. Hide and go pee.
3. 20 questions shouted into your good ear.
4. Kick the bucket
5. Red Rover, Red Rover, the nurse says Bend Over.
6. Musical recliners.
7. Simon says - something incoherent.
8. Pin the Toupee on the bald guy

SIGNS OF MENOPAUSE :
1. You sell your home heating system at a yard sale.
2. You have to write post-it notes with your kids' names on them.
3. You change your underwear after a sneeze.

OLD IS WHEN:
1. Going bra-less pulls all the wrinkles out of your face.
2. You don't care where your spouse goes, just as long as you don't have to go a long.
3. Getting a little action means you don't need fiber today.
4. Getting lucky means you find your car in the parking lot.
5. An all-nighter means not getting up to pee!

Things to Ponder:

I used to eat a lot of natural foods until I learned that most people die of natural causes.

Garden Rule: When weeding, the best way to make sure you are removing a weed and not a valuable plant is to pull on it. If it comes out of the ground easily, it is a valuable plant.

The easiest way to find something lost around the house is to buy a replacement

Have you noticed since everyone has a camcorder these days no one talks about seeing UFOs like they used to?

In the 60's, people took acid to make the world weird. Now the world is weird and people take Prozac to make it normal.

How is it one careless match can start a forest fire, but it takes a whole box to start a campfire?

Who was the first person to look at a cow and say, 'I think I'll squeeze these dangly things here and drink whatever comes out?'

Who was the first person to say, 'See that chicken there? I'm gonna eat the next thing that comes outta its butt.'

Why does your OB-GYN leave the room when you get undressed if he's going to look up there anyway?

But Most Of All, Remember!

A Good Friend Is Like A Good Bra: Hard to Find, Supportive, Comfortable, And Always Close To Your Heart!

Hang in there, buddy.

After losing a sister to a massive brain bleed and stroke, I hate to hear of this happening to anyone.

Especially my Rock of Love.

I've been a Bret Michaels fan since the 80's and Poison, and I've enjoyed seeing him have a "resurgence" of fame this past few years with Rock of Love etc.

And you know I'm wanting him to win Celebrity Apprentice.

I truly pray that he survives whatever is going on with him right now and is able to go on and live a full and productive life. Unfortunately, I know it's bad, because I recognize too many of the doctor's words to think that this is going to have a happy ending.

But I sure hope it will. I really, really do.

Friday Escape

Happy Friday from Gracie and Griffin.

This is why I don't skinny dip.

An elderly man in Louisiana had owned a large farm for several years.

He had a large pond in the back. It was properly shaped for swimming, so he fixed it up nicely with picnic tables, horseshoe courts, and some apple and peach trees.

One evening the old farmer decided to go down to the pond, as he hadn't been there for a while, and look it over.

He grabbed a five-gallon bucket, to bring back some fruit.

As he neared the pond, he heard voices shouting and laughing with glee.

As he came closer, he saw it was a bunch of young women skinny-dipping in his pond.

He made the women aware of his presence and they all went to the deep end.

One of the women shouted to him, "We're not coming out until you leave!"

The old man frowned, "I didn't come down here to watch you ladies swim naked, or make you get out of the pond naked."

Holding the bucket up he said, "I'm here to feed the alligator..."

Some old men can still think fast.

Yes, Coffeypot....this reminded me of you.  

My Saturday Night Date

OK, this is technically an old story, and I've referred to it several times here when talking about the quality of fish in the dating pool.

But today I found an old email where I relayed this story to my boss when it happened, and it made me laugh so I thought I'd share it with you guys.

This was in May 2006, 8 months after my divorce and my first foray back into the dating world. God help me.

So I went out to dinner with Marc on Saturday night. He's the guy I was supposed to go out with Thursday...the dude who said he brought me Chanel perfume from Paris????

This one will kill you.  Don your crash helmet.

So something tells me that I really don't want to go out with him, call it intuition or whatever. So I make sure he knows that this is going to be a quick dinner at PF Changs and that's it.

I get there, walk up and there he stands. He's 50...looks 65, has man boobs and old breath! Oy vey. It is clear that the pictures he has on his dating profile were taking a loooooooooooooooong time ago, and that NFL linebacker's body he has? Uh yeah, if the linebacker is a Mack truck. A very overweight truck.

Look, I'm not Twiggy, but at least I post accurate pictures of myself. This guy was the equivalent of pretending to be George Clooney and showing up as Chris Farley.

Anyway, we go into the restaurant, and we get seated. He takes his coat off...and he's wearing suspenders. Now I know it's going to be a very long dinner...

Proceeds to spend the next hour and a half telling me how beautiful I am (which is nice to hear but when it comes out of a dude's mouth literally every other sentence and you spend an hour saying nothing but "Oh, thank you." "Thanks, that's nice" "Oh, thanks" because he's overdosing you with the compliments, it's not all that fun, trust me!)

He tells me he rarely drinks, and then proceeds to drink 4 double Grey Goose Vodka's on the rocks. Evidently "rarely drinks" = rarely leaves any in the bottle.

So after explaining everything on the menu to me as though I was incapable of reading it, he orders more food than 4 people could eat, let alone two. I had one of the 4 spring roll appetizers, one of the 4 dumpling appetizers, and about two of my vegetarian lettuce wraps (the entree makes about 6)...and he ate his entree, all the rest of the appetizers, AND finished off mine!

And for the coup de grace....he starts telling me how his 2nd marriage ended because she had an affair with their best friend (they had another couple as best friends and his wife and the other husband hooked up), meanwhile he was living in Amsterdam and owned a coffee shop, so the guy she had the affair with comes over and wants to buy a big quantity of hash which Marc would not sell him. So the guy buys it elsewhere, gets busted trying to get it back into the States, implicates Marc as the ringleader and Marc's wife corroborates the story....and Marc ends up serving 2 years in a federal prison here for conspiracy to import!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes folks, I had dinner with a felon. And he did not even bring the perfume.

At this point, I'm sitting at the table feeling as though I might be on the show "Punk'd" and am looking around the restaurant for Ashton Kutcher!

Then, Marc orders dessert in an effort to drag the date out as long as possible. Of course, he ate it all other than the 1 bite he insisted I take. At this point, I had no appetite anyway!

He starts asking me about the "Ex", and in an effort to try and look as undesirable as I can, I tell him I am still in love with my husband and we still see each other and now I have serious trust issues with any man and really need to NOT date for awhile...

Didn't phase him.

Now he's saying all this crap about how incredible I am (Oh, thank you...), how he wants to get to know me better (Oh God HELP), how we can travel together and he will be 100% accountable to me so I don't ever have to worry about being cheated on again....and then he leans over the table and says "If we weren't in a restaurant, I would be kissing you so deeply right now..."

Check please!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Once outside, he insisted on walking me to my car, and I insisted that he not. He tried to kiss me goodbye and I did a quick head turn and it landed on my ear, and then you have never seen a girl run so fast in high heels in your life. I'm like running away from him to get to my car and he's running behind me saying "When can I see you again????"

Oh dear Lord. I do not belong in the dating pool!

There are reasons why I have given up swimming, kids.

Lost, Tazed and Confused.

Pocket Tazer Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife.

A guy who purchased his lovely wife a pocket Tazer for their anniversary submitted this:

Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 15th anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Julie. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse- sized tazer. The effects of the tazer were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety....??

WAY TOO COOL!

Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home.. I loaded two AAA batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button and pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I'd get the blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs.

AWESOME!!!

Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Julie what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave.

Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-A batteries, right? There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised.. Am I wrong?

So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and tazer in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.

All the while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5" long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really and (loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-A batteries) thinking to myself, 'no possible way!' What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best.. .?

I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, 'don't do it dipshit,' reasoning that a one second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad. I decided to give myself a one second burst just for heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and . . .. . . . . .

HOLY MOTHER OF GOD . . WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION . . . WHAT THE HELL!!!

I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs? The cat was making meowing sounds I had never heard before, clinging to a picture frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an attempt to avoid getting slammed by my body flopping all over the living room.

Note: If you ever feel compelled to 'mug' yourself with a tazer, one note of caution: there is no such thing as a one second burst when you zap yourself! You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor.. A three second burst would be considered conservative?

IT HURT LIKE HELL!!!

A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from where it originally was. My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. I had no control over the drooling.

Apparently I pooped on myself, but was too numb to know for sure and my sense of smell was gone. I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head which I believe came from my hair. I'm still looking for my nuts and I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return!

P.S. My wife, can't stop laughing about my experience, loved the gift, and now regularly threatens me with it!

If you think education is difficult, try being stupid !!!

Well hot damn, butter my biscuits, and who'da thunk?!

Look at that little green number three items down on the right side of my blog.

I've had over 100,000 blog hits.

Shut up!!!

That's kind of exciting to me! And I just put that on there a year ago so....sweet!

In other news....

Suzanne's surgery went very well. The doctors got everything they anticipated getting (which was the active tumors) and it's my understanding they are very pleased with how it went and what her prognosis is from here on out.

Thank you all for your collective good thoughts and prayers for her.

Now, whoever keeps coming back here a hundred times a day and driving that little green number up higher....your check's in the mail.

Another shout out for the good thoughts....

You guys might remember this post from last month.

It was about my friend Suzanne and her potentially life saving, at the very least life extending, surgery.

Well, today is the day.

I ask you guys once again to keep her in your collective thoughts and prayers today for a successful surgery. The hope is that the liver resection gets all the cancer, and she will go on to live a long and happy life.

As I told her yesterday, this is her game changer...the miracle we've all prayed for, for the past seven years. And she needs to go kick that surgery's ass today so we can get on with the business of growing old together.

Go get 'em, Suz. I love you, and I'll see you tomorrow. Save some pain killers for me, will ya?

The Night The Lights Went Out In Georgia

Dixie Carter, aka Julia Sugarbaker, passed away this weekend.

My inner gay man mourns.

If I was from the South, I'd have been Julie Sugarbaker. I'm just sayin.

This is one of my favorite "rants" of all time.



Rest in peace, Ms. Carter.

I need to stop. Soon. OK maybe not yet.

I'm itching for another tattoo.

I know, I know, I just got one in February.

And I have four now.

But I want another one. Two more, actually.

So you know I want one on my foot, right? Well, a couple of weeks ago I was cleaning my garage out, and found a "book" that the guests at my wedding shower (in 2003, mind you) wrote words of marital advice in.

One of those guests was, of course, my sister Linda, who died a few months after I got married.

Part of her advice said "Live life, love, and be happy".  

And that's what I plan to have tattooed on my foot, in her handwriting. I think that will be amazing to have some of her last words of advice to me, her little sister, in her own writing, for the rest of my life.

I also want a tattoo on the inside of my left wrist.  I'm still thinking I want this puzzle piece....

I love that, and it has meaning for a couple of reasons, such as, looking for my "missing piece", and this blog of course. Even when I no longer write it (still waiting on that offer of $60k for it, peeps. C'mon....who's got the extra cash?) I will always remember the many friends I met here and the joy it brought me to be part of this crazy blog world.

I'm trying to fight off the urge, but I feel a call to Sweet Baby Octane and the only man who ever touches my body these days, D Willy, coming on.

Maybe next week. Gotta wait on flip flop weather to get the foot one anyway.

OK seriously....who does this????

Let me preface this blog post with a disclaimer....

I love my friends dearly. I'm blessed to have several "best best best closer than sisters" friends who I thank God for every day.

Except this morning at 5:50am when one of them texted me.

TWICE.

I could have cheerfully choked her. "I woke you up?" YES. What else would I be doing at that time of the morning besides sleeping!?!?!?!?!?!?! I don't get up until 7:30am. And this morning was one of those dark, rainy mornings that you just want to stay curled up under the covers, snoozing away.

Also, it should be noted that once I am awake, I rarely am able to go back to sleep. I actually started to drift back off at 7:15, just in time for my alarm to go off fifteen minutes later. Sigh.

Seriously, do you text people at ridiculous hours? Because I don't. Unless something is on fire or someone died, you won't hear from me until a reasonable time. Let's say 8am during the week, and 9am on weekends.

One of my other friends used to send me joke texts at 7am when she'd get up on Saturday morning and let her dog out. She's one of those people that can crawl back into bed and go right back to sleep.

I'm not. And my phone sits right on my nightstand so I hear the little text message sound and it wakes me right up. So I put a stop to her early morning texts right away.

People, I am very grumpy when my beauty sleep is interrupted unnecessarily. Thus today's blog post!

So this is my Public Service Announcement.

Before you text...think. Just because you're awake doesn't mean everyone else is.

You're welcome.

PS. I love ya Cher, but if you text me at that time again, I'm going to drive down there and smash your phone.

I think this speaks for itself.

I'm the proud parent of a fall 2010 University of Cincinnati student.

Go Bearcats!!!!

And most of all, congratulations, Jordan. I'm so proud of you.

Better late than never

That's right, I missed my own Blogoversary.

Geesh.

I started this blog April 3, 2008....hard to believe I've been writing it for two years already.

Time flies when you're spewing ridiculous facts about your life to the world!

In two years, I've written 717 posts.

I have 413 followers.

I've had 98,780 hits on my site.

Last year I averaged 7,418 hits a month.

I even have paid advertisers now. Yay!

And I've had visitors from countries I've never even heard of. It's kind of bizarre to think about how far reaching our little blogs can be.

So thanks to all of you for coming along on this ride with me! When I started my blog, it was meant to be my own accountability for losing weight. Thankfully, two years and 35 lbs later, I feel I have partially accomplished that goal! Now I'm back on the Weight Watchers Wagon and attempting to lose the other 40 lbs, so I guess that assures me that I need to continue blogging!!!

Besides, who else am I gonna bitch about turning 50 to next year, besides you guys?

(PS...Taking Jordan to Cincinnati today to visit UC, and see where my kid is planning to live in the fall!)

Rich and blonde. Who am I, Paris Hilton?

Check out that little link on the top right. Evidently my blog is worth $60 grand. Anyone wanna buy it? C'mon, I'll make you a deal. $50k and I'll even keep writing it for you.

I'll take payments.

In other news....

I'll let you know if blondes reallly do have more fun.

If someone buys my blog for $50k, consider me as having the time of my life!

That's hot.

I Need A Vacation...Part Two.

If I can direct your attention to the right of my blog, you will see a countdown clock.

Yes, my friends, I'm headed back to Sin City.

Back to the land of all beach and no ocean. But there are palm trees. And hot sun. And...pools.

Leaving May 16th, staying at Planet Hollywood where all the cool kids stay and coming back May 22nd. And hopefully spending some time with my BFF the fabulous Linda Lou while I'm out there.

I'm ready for a vacation. Mama needs her cocktails by the pool.

In other news, not so good...

My ex's uncle passed away last night. Makes me very sad. He was a very sweet, hilarious man (think Benny Hill not only in looks but personality) and he will be greatly missed. I'll be heading to Canada next week for the funeral.

Also next week, on Tuesday I'm taking Jordan to the University of Cincinnati so we can meet with advisors and stuff about him starting in the fall. I've never been to the campus so I'm excited to see it, and see where my baby will be living for the next four years. (Shut up, I'm ignoring the fact that he isn't going to be living with me. It's not denial, I'm just selective about the reality I accept.)

Hope you all have a fabulous Easter. Anybody got big plans?

Don't mess with my food, people.

Designer fruit? Seriously?

From an ABC news story....

You may have heard of the pluot and the grapple, but now...the pineberry? A summer berry that looks like a white strawberry but tastes like a pineapple is going on sale in the United Kingdom this spring.

The pineberry is white, covered with red seeds and has the same genetic make-up as a strawberry, but has the taste and smell of a pineapple.

Pineberry The British supermarket chain Waitrose will sell the pineberries in 45 stores across the UK for the next five weeks while they are in season.

“Designer fruit” have gained popularity in the last decade, and in the United States alone it has become a $100 million business. These fruits are a product of cross-breeding, not genetic engineering.

The pineberry originated in South America as a wild variety of strawberry, and seven years ago Dutch farmers began growing the fruit commercially in glasshouses. The fruit turns from green to white with dark red seeds when ripe.

If my beloved watermelon turns yellow and becomes a waternana, we're gonna have a problem, folks.