Road Rage

After today I have decided to dedicate an entire section to road rage just because it has become such a big part of my life.

A lot of my friends and family find it amazing how getting behind the wheel of my vehicle can totally change my attitude. I like to think that there is an idiot magnet located in my front bumper that just attracts people who can not drive to save their lives. Obviously that is not the case. My boss asked me yesterday why I work hours that require me to come in so early. My excuse back in the day used to be because of my kids then I realized it’s now because I can’t stand to drive around other people. You would think that with the price of gas recently spiking and the unemployment rate thru the roof, there wouldn’t be many people on the interstate at 6am. I have concluded that Jacksonville actually pays people to play pace car and get in front of me in the fast lane and slow down. Come on, that really is the only logical reason isn’t it?

I must say that I feel sorta sorry for my kids, over the years I am sure they have learned a lot of creative words & phrases sitting in my backseat. When your little kids roll down the window and yell what the stupid lady on the cell phone can do with the cell phone shes using while driving, you know you have a problem. Good news is they know not to volunteer mommy to drive the church bus…..ever.

Since I will probably never win the lottery I will have to continue to drive pretty much everywhere. Sad as it is, I suppose I will learn to live with this reality. Sure would be nice to beat somebody with a tire iron for getting in my way tho.



Disclaimer: due to the fact that my body was trying to digest my brain, I must warn you that there may be a fair amount of language in the following post. Either don’t read it or sit back and enjoy it, complaining that I have offended you will get you nowhere.

I must admit I am rather frustrated at the moment. I will say, that after the chaos that was the last few weeks that life has gotten back to somewhat normal but that is for another post. Right now this is about me.

Back before the holidays I noticed that my jeans were getting a little tight and I was possibly getting a little fluffy around the danger zones, AKA, butt, thighs and gut. Unlike some people I decided to do something about it. I have never really had to worry about my weight, in fact based on most of the charts on the internet I’m only about 10 lbs overweight for my age and height. Honestly, I know quite a bit about health and fitness and for my current size it wouldn’t take much effort to really be fit.

One of my main concerns all along has been the health of myself and kids. It’s no secret that most of the crap we eat is going to give you cancer or diabetes so why would you not try to make some kind of effort? I would certainly like to avoid being one of those people who have to take high blood pressure, high cholesterol and all the other maintenance drugs that have become so mainstream.

In any case, I drug my fluffy butt to my friendly neighborhood library to find some books on health and weight loss. After harassing the guy behind the counter asking him to look up books that I know are either not there or never existed I work my way to the fat chick section of the library. I pick up a few books and then one stands out, ‘The Abs Diet’. I know I have heard about it and then ponder if maybe I have checked it out before. I then turn over to the recipe part of the book and find a notice to pick up mail from the post office dated in March…. with my name on it, FAIL!

So I decide to give the book another shot and take it home. I went thru the book for about 6 weeks digesting all of it’s skinny bitch knowledge and even tried a few recipes this time. I had already given up the carbonated sodas and a great deal of the sugar so I was already feeling pretty good without really consulting the book, and yes, my fluffy butt was fitting back in the jeans.

Then the holidays rolled around. I figured as long as I ate healthy the rest of the time and exercised I could enjoy all the fatty, sugary goodness that is Thanksgiving and Christmas without batting an eye. The problem is, after eating healthy for awhile this food I used to truly enjoy left me feeling rather sick and run down. To a degree this was a good thing but I enjoyed my can o cranberry sauce with cool whip much less because of it. The other down fall is you can’t just leave this crap sitting in your fridge ignoring it because it will talk to you. Now you feel guilty because kids in some other country might be starving so it’s your duty to eat this stuff and be a fat ass, you know, for the children.

When Christmas rolled around I actually ended up sick, which was a shock. I typically don’t get sick but with everybody bringing in the fat laden goodness of Christmas to work every day for 2 weeks you become weak and your immunity pays for it. I knew I had hit bottom when I tried to enjoy a glass of coke from a 2 liter and it tasted like syrup.

So after the holidays it was time to get back on track. I was all gung ho until my mom saw the abs diet book lying on the couch and said she liked that diet, it’s the one where she lost all that weight drinking smoothies. The book went back to the library after that. Now, not to be mean, but my mom is what I refer to as a career dieter. She has tried every diet with the exception of Jenny Craig. She does nothing but talk about her new diet for a week then I have to take her to 3 different health food stores to find all this weird crap she needs for it. Then she tells the bag boy at Winn Dixie about her new diet while he’s bagging all her healthy stuff like the 15 year old really gives a damn. Then 2 weeks later she tells you how well she’s doing and all the weight she’s lost then about a week later she gets bored and goes right back to her old ways and her latest diet goes into the stack in the spare bedroom to be consumed by the dust bunnies.

The sad part is I have witnessed this over and over again most of my life. The good part is I know how to avoid it. With that being said I did my research on the internet and ran across another book titled Look Better Naked. I managed to find the book on Ebay for under $5.00 and my younger son is quite fond of the half naked chick on the front cover so it must be a winner.

I read thru it, absorbed the info, and planned to hit the ground running. Days 1 and 2 were a detox of no carbs what so ever. I can honestly say, it was a total bitch, stupid lying book! I did nothing but think about food, and I wanted it bad, very bad. I managed to get thru and did okay for a few days after, then life happened, like everything else and turned upside down. On top of that, my daughters baby shower was that weekend so the goodies were aplenty, diabetic coma style. Once again, my fridge was full of yummy petit fours, cupcakes, piggies in blankets and such I just couldn’t waste.

So after another week of not even having much of an appetite and life calming down a hair it was time to start watching what went in my mouth again. It’s really not easy, especially when you still want to have a life and go to lunch with friends and eat Taco Bell 3 times a week, but I tried.

Then I thought it would be a good idea to go buy some new clothes with my gift card I received for Christmas. Nothing like a few fresh pieces to wake up the wardrobe right? My gawd what a mistake. I drug my very pregnant daughter to the mall with me along with my mom and youngest in tow, hoping for some fashion guidance. That was my first mistake. The second mistake was actually going into the dressing room to try stuff on. I’m not sure if it’s the gawd awful lighting in these places or what, but I don’t know whose ass was in that dressing room looking back at me in the mirror. I honestly wanted to cry at what I was seeing. Is it possible I am really THAT out of shape and fluffy. Before purchasing a mu mu we decided to leave the mall.

The next day or so I kept replaying the scene in the dressing room horror movie that was my butt. I decided it was for real time to get this thing started, no more playing! I looked over my handy dandy book again, minus the half naked chick on the cover, now hidden in the desk drawer away from my son and went shopping.

I really am not a fan of buying weird shit just for a diet but I did purchase the soy milk for the smoothies and all the green goodies that would be my life for the next 2 days. I prepared as much stuff as I could in advance and made a big pot of homemade chili as 1 last who rah to my no carb lifestyle. I’m sorry carbs, but you are bad for me and I would like a flat stomach and perky butt while it’s still mine to be had.

Day 1 was actually not bad at all, but I’m pretty sure I kinda sorta cheated to a degree. I bypassed my nice healthy all green salad for a Whiskey river grilled chicken salad because I broke my salad dressing. Something about olive oil turning into an ugly rock when refrigerated, blah blah blah. In any case, my salad had croutons and cheese and 1 tomato and I inhaled the whole damn thing. I even came home and had enough energy to work out per the book, at least until I developed an audience so maybe halfway thru the workout.

I had my healthy dinner with the small cheat of adding a few water chestnuts to my cooked spinach. I went to bed and felt pretty good. Minus the dream of having not 1 but 2 hamburgers and being able to tell you in detail what was on them, then dreaming my ex boyfriend gave me head lice, it was a pretty normal night. Things were going well all day until that afternoon when an appointment at the hospital sent everything into a tailspin. I ended up hitting the vending machine for a cherry coke to share with Josh and then after getting out at after 8:30 burger and fries seemed like the ideal dinner for 2 people starving to death. Yeah I blew it totally. I jumped back on track the next morning feeling like shit from the bad dinner then double shit from not being able to workout the night before. Oh then there was the knocking my filling off my tooth causing me to do the damnit damnit dance.

The tooth worked to my benefit seeing as how it made it hard to eat much of anything. In the end, I ended up making chicken soup for dinner with all the horrible veggies and egg noodles I wasn’t supposed to have, sigh. Good news is I was actually able to finally poop even if it was all green, just like the salad from 2 days before. Carbs must have their place in the mix somewhere.

The next morning I still felt pretty good and vowed it was going to be a good day depending on what the dentist did to me. Then I got dressed, and something was wrong, really wrong. Why does my bra not fit? What the hell! Maybe the bra is broken, do a hand test, no they are slightly smaller. !@#$#$%^^&&* is going on? My ass is still here, but no, now I have no boobies!!!!! what a cruel joke you have played on me mother nature, you bitch! Who the hell do you think you are anyway? Take away my boobies and leave my thighs? I earned those boobies dammit, I’m the one who breast fed for 5 months not you. I’m gonna kick your ass so be prepared mother nature!

So now I have decided to look into selling my ovary renters for cash. I hear somebody will pay top dollar for them and it doesn’t look like I have any need for them now anyway. My office boyfriend Professor wombat also informed me that you can make upwards of $500.00 at amateur night at Wacko’s. I would only have to do it like 8 times to buy a decent boob job. And I guess if my eggs are too old and nobody wants to see me get naked to Gordon Lightfoot, I will just have to win the damn lottery and buy me some new boobies, big perky ones! I’ll teach you mother nature, you bitch.

The Pacer

Once upon a time back in the 80’s my dad bought a Ford Pacer. It was orange and hideous but, he did only paid $300.00 for the beast. Actually, I did sotra like the car, mostly because I got to help dad work on it. At least I thought that’s what I was doing, I guess sitting the seat and turning the key when dad said wasn’t actually driving or working on it.

Then there came the Thanksgiving. I can remember going to my dad’s mom’s, or should I say ‘Mother Erma’s’ house a few times for Thanksgiving. Those usually involved a little tension because she was a very old school kinda lady & didn’t hold her tongue even if she was wrong. This particular year I was in 6th grade & we had no choice but to travel in the worlds ugliest car….not that mom’s wood paneled hornet with 1 blue door and 1 brown door was any better.

Dad’s pacer was fully equipped with gold fish clings on the windows because guys my dad worked with called the car a fish bowl and God forbid an 8 track. An 8 track is maybe not a bad thing for most people who wouldn’t even begin to know what to do with it but not my dad. On the way out the door to leave for our trip, he drags out his 8 track Slim Wittman collection from under the bed. Now, being in the 6th grade at the time and only being partial to music the involved long haired men in full makeup and screaming vocals I did not like the Slim Wittman. Actually, after all these years…..I think I still don’t like the Slim Wittman.

This particular year was also the first year my best friend was allowed to have a slumber party and of course I was invited, however I risked not making it because I was being drug to Georgia with my lame family to hang out with the rest of my lame family. Needless to say, I was not a very happy camper. I’m sorry, but when your 11 none of your family is cool and it seemed like my family went out their way to flaunt their un-coolness.

My little brother was also diagnosed as having hyperactivity back in the day. He was on ritalin and had to drink decaffinated coffee before school. Not sure why little kids would drink coffee before school but he did. To this day, I am the only person in my family who doesn’t drink coffee, including my 10 year old….but not before school. Anywho, mom didn’t feel it necessary to give him his medication on non school days. To remedy his lack of mobility while sitting in the car he would actually rock back and forth like he was sitting in a rocking chair. I would get in trouble for yelling at him to stop this all the time and was told to shut up because he couldn’t help it. What my parents didn’t realize is it just drew more attention to the outside world that this rolling fishbowl was bouncing down the interstate.

We finally stop at a Hardee’s and there are a ton of teenagers hanging out in the parking lot. At least I thought they were cool, I guess once I got older these would have been the losers hanging out in the parking lot. One of the guys yells to my dad, “Hey, nice car.” Dad smiles and says thanks and I die a little bit more from embarrassment. We get inside and I go to order, but dad says I can only have a kids meal and don’t think about asking for that cheese for an extra $0.10. We eat our dinner and I have to carry my kids meal toy to the car, a little pound puppy for all the cool kids in the parking lot to see.

The rest of the trip wasn’t that bad, dad’s family lived well off the beaten path so you could relax and not worry about somebody seeing you not being cool. There was the typical family conflict between my grandma and mom, because I once said ‘yes’ instead of ‘yes maam’ and my brother wasted the milk she paid for. Years later my dad sold the Pacer to my Papa, he drove it forever then it was parked. For all I know the thing could still be down there at my Nana’s house. Looking back on it it wasn’t that bad a trip and I am sure there were much worse ones I have blocked from my memory. One thing has become obvious, I am the way I am now for a reason……and I still hate Slim Wittman.


The Ant & the Grasshopper (2012)

Once upon a time, not so long ago there was an ant and a grasshopper. During the summer the ant got up early every morning and went to work gathering food for the winter. In the meantime the grasshopper stayed up late playing PS3 & spent most of his days on Facebook complaining about how he didn’t have enough food while watching Jerry Springer on his 60” flatscreen from Rent a Center.

The ant worked hard all summer and when he showed fellow ants a more efficient way to gather food he was promoted to head food gatherer. This made the grasshopper mad because he didn’t have as much food as the head food gather ant and wanted the ant to give him some of his food because it just wasn’t fair. The ant agreed but said the grasshopper would have to learn to gather his own food next summer with the ant’s help.

The winter ended and the grasshopper did not starve but still resented the ant because why the grasshopper sat around all winter watching Jersey Shore the ant was busy on the internet building a business with the extra food he gathered. By the time summer arrived the grasshopper had forgotten the agreement he had with the ant.

Once again, the ant worked all summer gathering food and working on his internet business. In the meantime the grasshopper found other like minded grasshoppers and organized them into a neat little community who hated the ant because he had more than them. By the time winter had rolled around again the ant had worked so hard he had twice as much food than the winter before. The grasshoppers who were much bigger than the ant and had grown in number had not collected much food at all.

The grasshoppers went to the ants boss and pleaded their case. They had nothing and the ant had more than enough. The ants boss agreed with the grasshoppers and made the ant give half of his food to the grasshoppers. This made the ant rather angry but he did as he was told. The grasshoppers spent the entire winter partying like it was 2012.

Unfortunately, because of this their health began to deteriorate. When summer came one of the grasshoppers had broken his big bendy back leg playing beer pong, but because he did not have healthcare he was expected to pay his medical bill. This was also true of the grasshopper who now had diabetes, the grasshopper who was now obese and the 3 grasshoppers who had heart attacks over the winter. They were convinced it was because of the free food they had received from the ant. After all, the ant was in fine health and even managed to once again double his amount of food from his online business over the winter.

The grasshoppers once again went to the ants boss and this time demanded that he make the ant pay for their health care. This baffled the boss and he explained that the ant also did not have health care so how could they expect him to pay for theirs. This got the grasshoppers to thinking that if something ever happened to the ant they would all be in trouble so they demanded that the ant not only pay for their health care but require the ant to have it as well. The ant began to grow tired of this game but being the proud American ant he was he did what was required of him and continued to work even harder.

The ant was then given a huge promotion because he invented a device to gather twice as much food in half the time. He was very excited and thought he had solved the problem with the grasshoppers. The grasshoppers however now under a doctors care could not work due to their failing health and now expected disability insurance….provided by once again, the ant.

Even though the ant had manged to gather double the food every year compared to the year before he still had nothing extra to show for it. The grasshoppers were still sitting around watching tv all day and playing PS3 all night and the ant was paying for it all.

The ant finally said the heck with it and outsourced all the food gathering to India, sold his portion of the company and moved away where he lived comfortably playing with his internet business in his free time. The food began to disappear without the ant around to gather it, and the grasshoppers began to freak out. The boss could no longer dictate what the ant had to give the grasshoppers because he no longer worked for him. The grasshoppers then decided to sue the ant for his internet business because he didn’t build it anyway. The ant said the hell with it and left the country and the grasshoppers finally ate each other out of starvation.

Evil Cat’s 1

Simply put, I hate cat’s. I always have for one reason or another. They don’t seem to be good for anything for the most part and really not that entertaining. At least with a dog you can convince him to play with you, unlike a cat who will give you that go to h*ll look. I have recently had my hatred stoked for the stupid animal the Egyptians once revered as gods when we moved to the trailer hood.

It amazes me that people will have an animal they can’t keep tabs on, much less think so little of it that when you move you consider the animal leftover furniture & leave it behind for the new dwellers to deal with. Thanks to all of you is all I can say. I should have known I was in trouble the day we moved in and a whole congregation of them sat at the back door just watching us. It wasn’t long before the group of evil fur balls made their way on top of my white Jeep. Yes, I had the ultimate cow. These things are not de-clawed and do not wipe their feets before perching upon my Snowflake.

After running them off several times in one night I knew I had to think of a way to get rid of them, after all, I was the one paying rent to live there, not them. Besides feeding them some rat poison nothing really came to mind. Then of course was New Years Eve. New Years ended with my going to bed sometime after 1am after playing with a Christmas tree my son & I had found and a little celebration drinkie, drinkie. The place got quiet & as I was in that lovely drifting off phase I hear ‘MMMMaaaaaammmaaaaaaa’ !!! Mmmmmaaammmmaaaaaa’!!! So of course I shot up out of the bed & then remembered my youngest was not at home. I honest to Buddha convinced myself my new place was seriously haunted. It wasn’t until a few nights later that I realized it was these flippin evil cats yelling mmmaaammmaaa while I was trying to sleep.

So, somebody at work convinced me it was illegal to poison cats so I dropped that idea. Didn’t work anyway because my neighbor tried it. These things have probably been poisoned so many times it’s like pot to them. I was starting to really lose it over the feline situation. I threw an apple at one, it just looked at me like I was stupid because I throw like a girl. Then I threw a flip flop at 2 of them fighting a few nights later and they carried off my shoe. I don’t know what made me think of it but I was sitting at work playing with a really REALLY big rubber band & it hit me. Kitty Cat target practice. I figured it was safer to launch a rubber band at my jeep than a pellet from a gun, besides I am a very lousy shot.

If you can actually hit a cat with a large rubber band it is quite effective. Unlike pellets, poison, flip flops & apples you get a pretty good return on your money because the rubber bands lay on top of the grass & don’t get carried off. I’m recycling America!

Evil Cat’s 2

I will admit, I might have had a small portion of the blame for this one. I have been seriously dragging butt since we got back home from vacation earlier in the week. I am also one of those people who forgets its garbage day the next morning until after I have already taken a shower. Besides the fact I really don’t want to play with garbage now that I am all nice and clean, I make it a point to not go outside after dark in the trailerhood. I figure it’s no big deal and I will drag it out to the street in the morning when I leave for work.

Of course the next morning rolls around & I think nothing of it. I get home from work & there sits the garbage untouched. Now in the process of all this I stop by the front office & pay my rent and hand the lady my list of complaints, AGAIN. She says they will have someone over Monday or Tuesday, so now I have to clean house since the boys have been home on spring break all week.

I bag up all the garbage inside the house & sit it on top of the already full garbage can & vow I will take it up front to the dumpster tomorrow when the gate is open.

A little while later I have to run to the jeep & as I am trying to get out the door it won’t budge. I look out & there sits my nemesis on my top step, the stupid bob tailed gray cat. So I push the door open with my shoulder & it takes off, along with a smaller black cat. It’s obvious that SOMETHING has been in my garbage because there is a hole in the garbage bag. I pick up the lid & sit it on top thinking if they come back the lid will fall & scare them off. NOT!!!!

About a half hour later I walk by the door & decide to look out & there sits the stupid black cat again, in my garbage can. At this point I realize I am out of rubber bands, our first line of defense, so I panic & run outside to scare it off. I start yelling & realize my neighbor’s window is open and that this is possibly her cat so I get quite & now point at the cat that’s about 15 feet away standing next to another cat. I tell it stay out of my d**n garbage you stupid trailer park cat. Apparently this offended the other cat who proceeded to do that thing cats do where they hike their body up into a curve & hisses at me. Now for the record I wasn’t actually scared of the cat, I just ran back in the house because I didn’t want any trouble. Yeah, that’s it.

So anywho, I walk by a little later & both cats are now having the time of their lives in my garbage can. This time I run outside with a can of bug spray and they take off. Thinking back on it I should have grabbed my pepper spray but I did remember seeing ants in the garbage can so I hosed it down. As I’m doing this I notice crumbs all over top of my a/c box so I turn around & yell how about cleaning up your mess you stupid cat! So yeah I almost broke my toe running up the stairs so the evil cat wouldn’t eat me. I’m starting to get a little concerned at this point and I know the big gray cat told the other cat that I was mean to it. This is a smaller cat though so I have to figure out a way to defend myself or at least make it leave.

About twenty minutes later I peek out & there they sit, not actually digging thru my garbage at this point but just hanging out to mock me. They also have their friend the big gray cat with them this time. I tip toe to the bathroom & fill up a plastic container with water & make my way back to the door. I sling the door open let out a ninja type of scream & throw the water at the cats. The cats of course had already moved but it’s hard to stop water already in motion so all I managed to do was soak my garbage that now has a gaping hole in it. I go stomping back in the house & decide I have to dispose of the garbage or I may very well lose my mind. It’s now wet & has a hole in it so I don’t want it in my jeep at this point so I did the next best thing. I went & got my other neighbors empty garbage can & dumped the whole mess in there and put it back in front of their drive way. She came home about 45 minutes later & I could hear her complain about how the garbage men didn’t pick up her garbage. I just hate it when that happens, hee hee.