The Biggest Villains of 2006 December 31, 2006

Does no one else find it hilarious/scary/unnerving that President Bush topped out the 2006 list of biggest villains, beating out Osama Bin Laden and even SATAN ???

Part of me is laughing my ass off. But then I have a sort of calming awe about the whole thing. It can’t be easy to be the worst person on the planet according to the people of America. That takes a lot of work and maybe I’m being unfair here: Maybe I should respect this man for his dedication to ruining not only our country, but other countries and the entire planet as we know it. Allll in a day’s work, my friends!

But seriously.

WORSE than Bin Laden AND Satan???

That’s an accomplishment right there. The people have spoken. I can’t help but wonder how ol’ Bushie feels about this. It’s one thing to see your approval rating drop and stay at the lowest in presidential history, but I cannot imagine how one would feel to know that they are considered more evil than Satan by a large margin and I’d feel even worse to know that I was considered more evil than the person who attacked our country and killed thousands of people. Politically speaking, Bushie was also considered more evil than some of our other popular enemies, Kim Jong Il, Suddam Hussein and the president of Iran.

In all fairness, though, Dubya DID top the heroes list with thirteen percent, beating out Oprah by almost ten percent. (Oprah tied with Satan on the Villains list).

All very amusing in a sick and twisted way. Here’s the list for you, if you’re interested.

WASHINGTON (AP) — Rosie O’Donnell is tied with Satan on a list of the biggest villains of 2006.

The AP and AOL asked more than a-thousand adults to name the worst villains of the year. Rosie is tied for seventh place with the devil, Oprah, Tom Cruise, George Clooney, Brad Pitt and Colin Farrell. They each got one percent of the vote.

President Bush tops the list of biggest villains with 25 percent – three times the percentage for Osama bin Laden.

President Bush tops the list of biggest heroes with 13 percent.

Oprah is tied with Jesus – each got three percent of the votes, while Mel Gibson, Angelina Jolie and George Clooney each got one percent.

FULL POLL RESULTS:

The Associated Press-AOL News poll on who people think were the villains and heroes of the last year was conducted Dec. 19-21 and is based on telephone interviews with 1,004 adults from all states except Alaska and Hawaii. The poll was conducted by Ipsos, an international polling firm.

Results were weighted to represent the population by demographic factors such as age, sex, region, race and income.

No more than one time in 20 should chance variations in the sample cause the results to vary by more than plus or minus 3 percentage points from the answers that would be obtained if all people in the U.S. were polled.

Names of celebrities that respondents volunteered were not on the list of possible answers in the poll question.

There are other sources of potential error in polls, including the wording and order of questions. Results may not total 100 percent because of rounding. An “X” signifies less than 1 percent.

1. If you were asked to name a famous person to be the biggest villain of the year, whom would you choose? –

George W. Bush, 25 percent –
Osama bin Laden, 8 percent –
Saddam Hussein, 6 percent –
President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad of Iran, 5 percent –
Kim Jong Il, North Korean leader, 2 percent –
Donald Rumsfeld, 2 percent –
John Kerry, 1 percent –
Rosie O’Donnell, 1 percent –
Dick Cheney, 1 percent –
Hillary Clinton, 1 percent –
Brad Pitt, 1 percent –
Tom Cruise, 1 percent –
Satan/The Devil, 1 percent –
Donald Trump, 1 percent –
O.J. Simpson, 1 percent –
Hugo Chavez, 1 percent –
George Clooney, 1 percent –
Nancy Pelosi, 1 percent –
Bill Clinton, 1 percent –
Colin Farrell, 1 percent –
Oprah Winfrey, 1 percent –
Mel Gibson, X percent –
Paris Hilton, X percent –
Terrell Owens, X percent –
Britney Spears, X percent –
Angelina Jolie, X percent –
Arnold Schwarzenegger, X percent –
Santa Claus, X percent –
Bill O’Reilly, X percent –
Martha Stewart, X percent –
Matt Damon, X percent –
Other, 15 percent – None, X percent –
Not sure, 20 percent

First Picture December 28, 2006

Today was my first doctor’s appointment since my initial one and they did a little in room ultrasound on the portable machine. As a result of the portable machine and also my shitty scanner, the picture is crap. At my 20 week ultrasound I’ll be sent to the actual “crazy room” with all the really high tech equipment so that picture will be a lot better. So, for all of those who either can’t make anything out in this picture or for those of you who aren’t as adept at reading these things, I have taken the liberty of drawing you a map:

It’s sucking it’s thumb. How adorable.

Hopefully, this will help to figure out what the hell you are looking at.

As for the baby, all looks good and is measuring right on schedule. A few days difference in due date but nothing to think is strange. I asked not to see the screen during the exam so I didn’t see but the doctor said right away that the baby looked like it was breakdancing because it was moving around so much. I guess it was beaning out on all that coffee I drank before hand.

I saw a different doctor today as Dr. Hotness was delivering a baby, but this one, a woman, I liked a lot, too. She has promised me that I won’t have to come in very often and is probably only doing so to make sure I come in at all since I have skipped every appointment thus far. Being my fourth baby, I pretty much know what’s going on and so she is only going to make me come in to do the labs I’m willing to do. We compromised. I told her I’d be willing to do the glucose test if she waived my pap. Every one I get informs me that I have abnormal cells and as is, I’m supposed to be having yet another colposcopy, which I’m not doing during this pregnancy. She asked me why and I said there is no point. If I have cancer I can’t be treated until after the baby is born so why stress myself out during the pregnancy more than I am now.

My sister has cervical cancer. My other sister has endometriosis. I’m pretty much a cancer target right now, especially with this tumor I’m playing hostess to. But nothing can be done so why worry about it now? The baby is coming in July regardless.

On a strange, spiritual note that I probably shouldn’t bring up, I’ve been having some thoughts lately that aren’t all that great. It suddenly dawned on me a while back that maybe the reason I keep finding myself pregnant is because god is making it happen because soon, it won’t be able to happen at all. Are all these children before I’m thirty a sign? I have been having horrible feelings of dread for a while now and have also been fairly convinced for some time that my life isn’t going to be a long one. What a morbid thing to think about. Sorry for verbalizing that. Just ignore me.

I need to get excited about all this. It’s just that things are sucky and no one else is all that excited about this, either so I’m not being too pumped up. Really, it just feels like I have the flu for, like, a ridiculously long time. I don’t really have family other than my Aunt and Uncle and other than my biological mom. She would be pretty excited if she knew, but she hasn’t been reachable in a long time. The rest of my family, I haven’t told because they will make it a hundred times worse.

I haven’t bought anything. I haven’t started preparing in any way. I’ve avoided the doctors, at least until they started calling me every five minutes to come in. They scheduled my lab work. I skipped them. They sent me for a glucose test today. I hauled ass out the front door. They had to ultrasound me because I refused to listen to the baby’s heartbeat on the doppler and they “had to get one for pediatrics”. Then, I wouldn’t look at the screen so as I was walking out, she shoves a picture into my hand and told me to “try to look at it later”. I put it in my pocket, but I did look at it once in the car and there it is, a baby that I will love more than life itself. So, what the hell is wrong with me??

So far, it has been the flu. Nothing more than a wicked bug that has had me sick and exhausted. Now, it’s a baby. Right there in the picture.

I have six months for life to drastically improve. And it will. Everything will be good. In a couple of weeks I’m going to start feeling little movements and then, I think it will sink in. Or, make me incredibly nauseous as it usually does.

It’s pretty gross to feel something squirming around in there. I’m nauseated just thinking about it.

But yeah, there’s the baby. I figured I’d share will you even though the picture is shit.

"You are a Wonderful, High Class Lady" December 27, 2006

subject: “You are a Wonderful, High Class Lady”

“Dear,

You have pure natural beauty; Smart eyes, lovely hair and a very nice angel face. I believe that you have been created to beautify our world.

When I look to you I believed that your beauty is from inside you, not only what is appearing on the first look. You have a type of beauty which we find in mother, sister, daughter and ,sure, in beloved one too. It is a type of life time love.

Wishing a happy holidays and New Year for you.

Love, Hxxxxx”

The above letter is the latest in strange letters I often receive on my Yahoo 360 from people I have never met or even heard of.

This one is, so far, my favorite mystery letter. Unlike Demoines Big Butt, this one is actually quite beautiful and poetic. I like that it is a simple statement, not a perverse invitation to shag the writer. Not only that, but I’m flattered. What lovely words to say. It is the type of letter one might like to receive from one’s long, lost lover or, perhaps, even one’s husband.

AHEM.

Anyway.

At the very least, this letter is far better than the one I got yesterday from sexyman1970 that had this to say:

“So, you like sexy man?”

To answer your question, sexyman1970, no I do not. More specifically, I do not like YOU.

However, the gentleman who wrote to me this morning claiming that I have the face of an angel… you, I like, ( although you probably sent this out to about a hundred women, including my friend Kass who seems to get some of the same letters as I do) but I have to confess that I am to carry on a sordid fantasy in which my husband has secretly been writing to me under a fake name to tell me how much he loves me and how much he thinks the world of me. That would be so romantic.

Although, with my luck, Dean is sexyman1970.

Sigh.

Paternity Test December 24, 2006

After almost two years of wondering who Olivia’s real father is, I think I’ve finally figured it out:

It’s uncanny, really, that at Olivia’s ugliest, she looks like the illegitimate result of a drunken bender with Nick Nolte. Poor Liv.

And poor me when she finds out I posted this horrid picture of her all over the internet.

Burning in Hell.

Either I am the greatest mother slash holiday shopper ever or I’m going to burn in hell. I’m not proud of what I had to do to get my hands on these babies today… it certainly wasn’t pretty, nor was it my shining moment. HOWEVER…..

I got the goods and my kid is going to be one happy camper come Christmas morning.

I made some calls. Or, rather, Dean made some calls. We hunted down which stores carry these Heely shoes and then off I went. My first stop was some store here called G.I. Joe’s that claims to be an automotive store/ sporting goods store. Which is right on since they sell shit for the car and shit for all your sporting needs. I have no issue finding a parking space and haul ass into the store first heading over to shoes and standing in a small line that has collected in front of some employees. When I get up there I say, “I need Heely’s.” The lady says to me, “Good luck. Follow all those people that are heading to the back but be warned, there are only six pairs left.” I bolted after the crowd and found about three pairs of Heely’s awaiting us and they were only left in two sizes. Neither of which were Matthew’s.

“Shit!”, I say.

At this point, some woman turns to me and asks what size I’m looking for. I tell her size three and her and her husband then tell me to run as fast as I can to Big 5, a sporting goods store up the road claiming that they have tons of them in the smaller sizes. Off I go, racing back to the car and out of the parking lot and off to hunt down Big 5. When I get there I immediatly ask for directions to the Heely’s. I am instructed to head to the back of the store and when I get back there there are another 20 or so people digging around in what’s left of the beloved roller shoes. There are two employees back there and 20 people and a security guard all crammed into an area of about six feet by six feet. I shove my way up and grab every box I see that says size three on it and I plop down and open each one up to see what they look like.

Every single box I grabbed contained a butt ugly pair of shoes. And they were EXPENSIVE… about a hundred bucks on average.

Oh, hell no. I do not want to settle on some fugly shoes just because that’s all that’s left and then pay a fortune for them.

Then, I look to my left and spot some kid and his mom sitting on a bench with a few boxes of their own. He is trying them on and exclaiming that he prefers the gray and black Heely’s. Gray? My ears perk up. Gray is much better than the black and yellow ones that I have in front of me. I look closely at the shoes the kid has and they’re pretty sweet… charcoal gray, black, silver and dark blue. And…. they are a size three.

The kid takes the shoes off and puts them back in the box and sets them on the bench next to him and sits waiting patiently for his sister to select her shoes. I notice that the three of them have now turned their backs on the box to examine a little pink number the sister is eyeballing. I sigh, knowing that what I was about to do would be very, very wrong. Just godawful of me, really, but I did it anyway. I picked up my box and sat down next to the kid on the bench and when he wasn’t looking, I swapped out the boxes. God, I am going to hell for sure. I took this kids’ shoes and then hauled ass up to the counter and paid for them before he could notice what I’d done. I hope the poor bastard likes yellow.

I sat in the car feeling triumphant. HA! Take that! I got me the shoes my boy has been begging for! Woo hoo!

Then, I started to feel kinda shitty. But it didn’t last very long. The kid I stole from was a real shit if you ask me, mouthing off to his mom and calling his sister names. I’ll consider this one a lesson in karma and leave it at that.

However, I still worry this may condemn me to hell. But what can you do about it, now? At least Matthew will be thrilled come Christmas morning. And besides… I know I’m going to get mine. I’ll pay for what I’ve done. My punishment for this crime?

Owen’s gonna be pissed.

(***edited two hours later to say that I blocked my karmic punishment and went ahead and just bought Owen a pair. But it’s okay… I think I’ll still hear it a bit. Olivia is going to be pissed.)

Extreme Holidays December 23, 2006

I’m sitting here watching this thing on t.v., a Holiday Stars on Ice program of figure skaters performing to Christmas music. I remember watching this stuff as a kid and I must say, it’s only gotten more impressive since watching it as a little girl.

Figure skating is one of those sports that I think lacks the respect it deserves. This is not an easy sport to master and the physical ability it takes to pull it off is outstanding. Anyone who has ever spent more than an hour on the ice will agree with me on this one. It takes a tremendous amount of overall skill to be able to do this and then to be able to make it look flawless, fluid and easy is just nuts to me. I can’t even imagine how badly these people’s bodies must hurt after a training session. Just being coordinated enough to stand upright on the ice is impressive to me.

I like that my kids are as impressed as I am with things like this, figure skating, ballet… sports a lot of people consider girly and fruity. I love that instead of commenting about the guys in the tight pants, my boys will cheer over the strength the men in these sports have to be able to lift women up over their heads whether it is on solid ground or gliding across an icy surface while balancing on a thin blade of metal. They see the jumps and spins and everything in between as magical and pushing the limits of what we should be able to do, no matter how taxing it can be on the body physically.

I don’t know if this viewpoint they have is because they are children and haven’t yet been exposed to some of the more negative comments around these activities or if it has something to do with the growing popularity of extreme sports. My kids are just as impressed with ballet and figure skating and breakdancing as they are with skateboarding, snowboarding and rollerblading, surfing and just about anything that involves mixing balance, determination, physical strength and mental concentration.

(as a sidenote, look at Matt’s hockey jersey… hee hee. His team is called the Patriots and there are two missiles on his shirt. It’s hilarious to me because Dean was stuck in a patriot missile unit in Texas and he was miserable for the three years he was there. So, we’re Patriot haters and now we’re going to have to be rooting for them. It’s a rather stupid thing for a kids hockey logo don’tcha think? I would also like to add that the actual Patriot missile has only about a 17% success rate at actually hitting it’s target which makes it one of the biggest wastes of time and money our country has ever created. Is this indicative of Matt’s future hockey career? Ha ha!)

Matthew is playing hockey, now, and just a trip to the rink sends Owen and Olivia into an excited frenzy and outbursts of complaints that they don’t get to get on the ice as well. The earliest age the rink will allow a kid to play hockey here is four which means Owen will have to wait until spring to play. Coach has brought up the idea of waving Owen through, partly based on his height and partly based on his ability on rollerblades. I wouldn’t mind getting him on the ice now, especially because he wants it so badly, but at $350 bucks a season, I think we’ll wait until spring to suit him up. As a result, Owen has lived in rollerblades for the past two weeks removing them only to sleep. He started out on Matt’s expensive $200 rollerblades that we bought him in Germany but after coach instructed Matt to spend as much time on his rollerblades with all his gear on to adjust to the movements and extra weight all his pads put on him, Dean had to go out and buy Owen his own pair.

Owen hates them. We bought him and Olivia less expensive skates and as a result, the bearings suck and Owen is pissed that he can’t go as fast as he can on Matt’s. Outisde on the concrete he’s alright, but inside he can barely move. Therefore, when he’s inside he wears Matt’s and when outside he throws his on and zooms around trying stunts that scare the crap out of his mother. At this rate, he’ll be able to do whatever he wants on the ice when he finally dons the metal blades and gives up the round ones.

Olivia can stand up and walk in her rollerblades but can’t skate without holding on to someone’s hands. This doesn’t bother me considering she’s not even two years old yet. I’m impressed enough that she wants to be on them and can move at all without breaking her ankles. At the very least, all three kids are unafraid and willing to work at something they love.

I worry that Matt is going to get annoyed with Hockey pretty quick. Hockey is one of those taxing sports that works your entire body and mind. You need balance, skill and agility not to mention stamina. Being able to skate with speed and hold a stick and hit a puck isn’t all that easy and Matt is easily frustrateable. Plus, he has a no nonsense coach who won’t put up with any bullshit and has already told him that if he screws around, he’s going to be sitting in the penalty box. Good! He needs someone who is going to keep him straight. My worry is that Matt will think that all of this should come easy and if he thinks that then he is sorely wrong. The great thing about the boy is that he can take a hit like nothing I’ve seen before. Someone could hit him over the head with a two by four and he’ll laugh. He’s a crazy one. Mental, I tell ya. Probably hit on the head a few too many times.

On a different note, I stayed up until two in the morning wrapping presents. I hate wrapping presents. Nothing comes in a normal shaped box anymore. How I wish everything were straight lines and no open faces. After wrapping everyone’s gifts I have found myself in a bit of a pickle. Matthew’s stuff comes out to be more expensive, but due to the fact that video games and game machines come in such small boxes, he looks like he’s been shafted. Owen and Olivia’s stuff is all in huge boxes. It’s hard to explain to a kid that he shouldn’t worry because his stuff was more expensive than the others, especially when he thinks Santa is doing all of this. So, at the last minute just two days before Christmas, I get to go out on a manhunt for Heely’s, these shoes he’s wanted forever that I was going to wait to get him until his birthday. They’re shoes that have wheels in the soles that pop down so you can either walk or skate. They are a very hot item this year and methinks that on Christmas Eve Eve I may have a hard time finding them in his size. Grr. But, out I go to greaten the smile on his face Monday morning.

I have no idea how to balance Christmas with multiple children. Should they all get the same amount of gifts, like ten apiece? Should they all have a total value that is the same, say, two hundred a kid? Should I weight them? 100 pounds per child? 1/4 pound of gifts per pound of child receiving? How does everyone else calculate this up?? I try to keep it the same amount of gifts and money which is quite the juggling act. Like, now. Matthew has about two thirds the amount of gifts that the other two have but his gifts take him about a hundred bucks over the other two. Buying the Heely’s will add another sixty to that. And he still won’t have as many gifts.

Oh well. I doubt they’ll care so much on Christmas morning. And I think I hear them barreling up the stairs, home from shopping with Daddy. Hopefully, he picked up the millions of batteries we need. Hark! The children’s stompings on the stairwell!

And this is my cue to get off of here. I have found that I am rambling and there is much to be done.

Peace!

W.D.J.H.T.D.W.I?

What does Jesus have to do with it? Christmas, I mean. If you really look at the whole damned situation, he has nothing to do with it. And before all you religious fruities come at me with torches,allow me to explain:

Santa Claus is based on St. Nicholas who was, many, many years ago, a living person… a Bishop known for his grand acts of compassion and giving, especially to children. One famous example of this is the strory of a farmer or something along those lines who found himself without the money to pay dowries on his three daughters and was freaked that they would live like shit not being able to marry and such. Bishop Nicholas, according to legend, left three balls made of gold on their porch or in their shoes or something along those lines and when they awoke to find them, were able to marry.

Now, many people celebrate St. Nick’s day every year including my family. I have noticed that this seems to be more common in the northern part of the country as most people I have known in the south don’t even know what it is. For those of you who haven’t a clue, St. Nick died on December 6th. So, to celebrate his life and his death, we hang stockings on this eve and then St. Nick somes and puts candies and fruits and small trinkets in them. Which was really all St. Nicholas did. And being that HE is Santa Claus, I’m not sure where December 25th comes from or what the deal with the tree is. The tree, I believe being another invention credited to the German’s. I think Bishop Nicholas was German, but don’t quote me on that. I could look it up, but I don’t feel like it.

This thought process has led me to wonder where the hell Jesus fits into all this. Sure, Nicholas was a religious man, being that he was bishop and all, but how did it come to be that we have used him as a symbol to celebrate the birth of Christ, Christ, having NOT even been born in the month of December anyhow?

What exactly does Jesus have to do with all this? Why can’t we just celebrate Christmas on December 6th as a celebration of the wonderful and giving St. Nicholas and celebrate our Jesus stuff in the spring?

Everything about Christmas is about St. Nicholas. Sure, the image has changed slightly and, in some countries, he’s not Santa to begin with but Father Christmas like in Britan or Baba Noel, Baba Mraz… etc, etc… as in some middle eastern countries. He’s still the same dude, still portrayed in his bright red clothing… although the western version has taken the red Bishop’s robes and transformed them into a furry sort of get up.. many other countries still show him in the traditional way. But still… why the Jesus thing?

And then you have the right wing freaks who go around bitching and complaining about how commercialized Christmas has gotten and how people are forgetting the religious tie it has. Yeah? Well, your Jesus, if you ask me, shouldn’t have been involved in the first place. St. Nicholas was about giving to others which is pretty much what we do at Christmas time. Hey, I’m not the guy who told everyone that the 25th was Jesus’s birthday and created all this. So, really, Christmas IS about giving gifts to those who need them or to those you love. Yet, millions run to mass every Christmas eve and Christmas day.

I’m curious about the whole CHRISTmas thing. I don’t know if it was created because they wanted the holiday to revolve around Christ or if it happened with Kris Kringle on the brain. Who knows?

I will say this: Jesus was right on, a real righteous brother if you ask me. Celebrate him in the spring or whenever the experts are now saying he was born or whatever. If Christmas has to be about religion to some, then go ahead. Make it about a religious man, a Bishop named Nicholas who devoted his life to compassion and giving to others.

I have nothing against Jesus and, frankly, I could be way off on all my ramblings here. I’m wondering how many comments I’m going to get that say that I’m wrong about all of it. If I am, feel free to tell me. But until then I have this to say:

Get your own holiday, Jesus! Oh yeah… You already have a few. Stop hogging them! Next thing you know, you’ll have taken over Halloween. You even own your own political party. And there’s probably a couple of sports teams there, too. When will it be enough??

Now, you’re just being greedy.

I am off! I have gifts still to wrap!

Merry Nicksmas!!

Absolute Nonsense

You know… I really have nothing of interest to say. However, I’m bored and I haven’t blogged in a while so I’ll scratch out some random thoughts on here.

Dean had cq again yesterday so last night I spent the evening doing things that I probably wouldn’t do if Dean were here. For instance, I hunkered down on the couch with Owen and watched the Nutcracker. The ballet version, not the movie. Owen sort of surprised me with this one. I really thought he would hate it being that it has no words and to be quite frank, can sort of drag along at times.

The Nutcracker need not have words when watching it with Owen because he talks animatedly throughout the entire thing. I mean, the kid gets worked up. At the point when the Mouse King fights the Nutcracker I thought his head was going to pop right off his shoulders and roll across the floor. He was having a cow, terrified that the “rat” was going to kill the Nutcracker and at the point when Clara throws her shoe at him and saves the Nutcrackers life, he announced that he was in love with her. “I just love Clara.”, he said. And he really does love her. Almost in the same way he is in love with Tinkerbell, who he has a thing for and has informed us of his intention to one day make her his wife.

His love for Clara seemed to diminish a little at the introduction of the Sugar Plum Fairy. He was spellbound by her. I liked this particular Sugar Plum Fairy as well but was irritated by her costume which they made pink instead of the traditional purple I have always seen it as.

As a result of all this, Owen wants to take ballet. He was extremely impressed with the dancers ability to spin around on their very tippy toes and was even more impressed with the male dancers lifting the ladies up over their heads. I will admit though, that for the first act of this entire production, he thought everyone was on skates. And was very impressed with that as well.

The boy likes figure skaters. Last week at Matt’s hockey practice they had little girls on the ice in a figure skating class and he and Olivia sat transfixed by them. He wants on that ice sooo bad and when he finally gets there I know he’s going to be awesome if his rollerblading is any indication. Three years old and the kid is damn near a pro at rollerblading. This is because he LIVES in skates, will wear them morning till night for days at a time taking them off only to go to bed if we bitch enough at him to do so.

This entire blog so far has made it sound like maybe Owen is gay if you think about it stereotypically what with the figure skating and ballet thing. Oh, well. Go for it, O.

On another note, I’m dogsitting for a friend right now and, Ashley… if you read this… you need to have this thing put down. This animal is psychotic. And relentless!!! It eats everything, mauls the children anytime they move an inch and even tried to hump Olivia from behind after knocking her down. And there is just no reasoning with it. For the days when mommy and daddy were here, the dog was sweet and loveable and almost a little timid. Then, they left and all hell broke loose. It was like Jeckyll and Hyde. We have been calling it Cujo. I say Mommy and Daddy need to re-evaluate this little bundle of madness and have it euthanized as soon as possible, especially if they ever decide to have children of their own. Or, if they want to sleep at night or have things in their house like furniture or toys or anything with an electrical cord. Or shoes or bedsheets or doors to the bathroom or tables and chairs. You know, stuff like that. But if they want to never sleep and live in an empty house then this dog is great.

I have to run. Olivia is being molested again.

An Army of Fuckers December 18, 2006

Alright. This title is outdated since the Army has recently changed it’s motto from “An Army of One” to “Army Strong” but none the less, right now it is of my personal opinion that the Army is a big, fat fucker. Before I continue, I would like to state that I am not referring to everyone in the Army…..

just the shitheads that stuck Dean with Staff duty on both Christmas Day and New Years Eve.

I would also like to point out that he was stuck with it on Halloween, too.

What the hell, people???

How many other soldiers are there? Single soldiers who DO NOT have three children at home??? Bot nooooooo!!! Let’s make the father of three pull 24 hour duties on every major holiday of the year! Horseshit!!!

Let’s just say that Mama is PISSED. Mama is about a half step away from storming into the office of someone with authority and raising a hellatious stink over this one, not that it would get me anywhere. Christmas day??? He has to sit at a desk and watch over some barracks on Christmas day???? Are you shitting me??

Naturally, this has prompted a few colorfully worded conversations between myself and my soldier. The soldier suggesting that we celebrate Christmas on December 24th this year and the mama telling him to go to hell. He can go right ahead and work on New Years Eve but if he takes one step out of this house on Christmas morning I’m fully intending to break both of his legs.

Do you have any idea how many Christmases he has already missed? A lot! Birthdays? Tons of them! And oh, yessss….. we must support our soldiers and you know what? If this wasn’t SITTING AT A GODDAMNED DESK AT THE BARRACKS FOR 24 HOURS!!! I could handle it! I handled it the two times he was overseas, for cryin’ out loud. But THIS! This is ridiculous. It’s about at dumb as the year he had to pull gate guard on Christmas day. Yep. That one was also ridiculous.

I knew this shit was going to happen.

Oh, and guess where he is right now?

That’s right!!!

I’m willing to make an unfair trade: They give him Christmas morning with the kids and they can feel free to send him back to Iraq. Just as soon as Christmas is over. Take his ass! Go for it!! Shit… other than the usual birthdays and the impending birth of his child, there’s not much going on. And god knows he’s seen enough of his children being born. He can miss this one. I don’t care.

Just so long as he doesn’t miss Christmas. Not this one. I have a really bad feeling about the next year. This Christmas he needs to spend with the kids. There is a dark cloud looming and I don’t know what it means yet, but it’s something. He needs to be here. And if he’s not?

Well, then he may not live to pull that New Years shift.

No pressure, Dean-o…. no pressure at all 🙂

Temper, Temper December 17, 2006

I haven’t written anything in a couple of days but at least this time I have a good excuse other than laziness (which is never really a good excuse but a frequent one none the less). Without much of a warning, Mother Nature decided to open up a can of whoop ass on us at the end of the week and gave us quite an adventure.

So, Thursday, Dean had 24 hour duty so it was just the kiddos and myself when the storm hit. It hit Dean first and they lost all power on post for about 4 hours. Then, it hit us pretty badly in the evening but we didn’t lose power at the house until later in the night around midnight. It was crazy. I lived in Florida for so many years and never saw a hurricane like this and this one wasn’t even a hurricane at all.

I stuck my kids in bed and wondered if they were going to be able to sleep. The winds were at about 40 miles per hour by bedtime and you could hear shit slamming against the sides of the buildings and knocking things down. With all the windows and doors shut, you could hear the wind just screaming and whistling and howling and every other wierd sound heavy wind makes. I liked it. It was very relaxing and at one point, I went out on my balcony to check it out and it was eerily beautiful at that point when it was not so scary. The rain was coming in sideways and would sting your skin when it hit you and it was just crazy.

I went to bed with my phone pretty much knowing after watching the news all night that Matt wouldn’t be going to school but I figured it would be because the temperatures had dropped so low that black ice would surely form all over the roads. Shortly after midnight, everything shut off. Everywhere that I could see… it was all black. Homes, streetlights… everything had gone out. The kids were in bed but somehow Matt and Owen kept waking up, probably from the winds that were, at times reaching 110 miles per hour. I’d get them back to sleep and go to sleep myself really thinking power would be back on when I woke up.

By morning, things were worse. There was still no power and it was all wierd and frustrating. Everything in this house is run off electricity and therefore, useless. The fridge was out, the stove, the microwave, the hot water…. and it was dark. There was enough light for the kids to sit and color for a bit but other than that, nothing. The clouds had made it just icky outside and there wasn’t any light. So, we decided to leave.

By mid morning, the storm had seemed to pass and the winds had slowed down and people were surveying the damage which wasn’t good. Over a million people were without power and we were told it may be up to four days until they got it back on. Stores and restaraunts opened up running off generators so pretty much everything was packed. Any place you went to had a line outside running around the buildings. There was no place to buy firewood or telephones or anything else you might need. We finally found a bunch of duralogs and bought them up since it had gotten so cold in the house without any heat that we had no other choice than to build fires and lay by them to keep warm. Power had gone back on on post and today, they called to see if we needed to bring the kids and stay in the barracks so that no one froze but by now, our power has been restored. It goes in and out but it’s back and that’s good enough for us.

So, Friday was the day we were out and about because we couldn’t stay home without the heat. We made it home around three and lit a fire which helped because by four it was pitch black again outside. At seven Matt had hockey practice and we trudged up there after being told it was still on but by the time we got there, the rink had melted and they had to start up their own generators and shut all the doors so we stood around the parking lot talking to his coach for a bit before leaving. The drive to and from hockey was wierd. To see a city with no lights is creepy. I remember looking out the window while passing through Tacoma and telling Dean it looked like Gotham city. You couldn’t find anything because it was so inky dark outside. People kept driving past their homes not being able to see them in the darkness that had swallowed us all up. It was crazy to be feeling our way through the parking lots trying to find the car, taking teeny little steps so we wouldn’t fall. There was just no light whatsoever… not from the sky, nothing. God, it was wierd.

Power came back on for us sometimes in the middle of the night and then went back out. While it was on, we watched the news. Tress had been falling aned cutting homes in half. People had died. One woman had drowned in her home when it filled up with water. Rescue swimmers had broken into the home and found her after she had been under for five minutes and they revived her with cpr but she died later at the hospital. How awful to drown in your own home where you think you’re safe. How nuts.

So, we’re sure as hell glad that’s over for now and hoping that Miss Colleen, Gen, Cody and Mike are safe in Oregon and didn’t have too much craziness down there.

Tomorrow, maybe I’ll have something better to post about but for now, I’m beat and going to go lie down!

Peace!