Ssshhhh...!!!

OMG!  I am home alone!  All I hear are crickets outside my window (and the clicking of my laptop keys)!  For the next 15 minutes, I get to enjoy PEACE and QUIET.  No Phineas & Ferb blaring from the TV, no Kids Bop 17 turned up full blast, no fighting over a toy that's been missing since 2006, no screaming because "she touched me," no crying because "she pinched me"...  Can you identify which child is the aggressor at our house???

Back in the day, I'd have the stereo blasting.  I'd be dancing around the house in a little t-shirt and panties (because I'd just gotten out of bed), and I'd be singing into my hairbrush.  Back then, of course, I didn't realize the value of silence.  I didn't know what it was like to desperately need some quiet time alone.  Now it seems to be all that I dream about.

Crap!  My time is almost up.  I have six more minutes of solitude.  I can't help but feel ansy like I should be doing "something" with this precious, yet quite rare, commodity.  Maybe I should unload the dishwasher or start some towels?  That's what my OCD husband would do.  Aw, screw it...  I'm just going to sit here and enjoy.  I'm surprised he hasn't called yet to leave me a list of the things I should be doing while he and my little hellions darlings are gone.

Damn!  I'm down to two!  What to do with my last two minutes of "me" time???  I wonder if convicts think like that?  Do they say, "Well, I've just been convicted.  I guess I better drink this liter of whiskey and make mad, passionate love to my german shepherd girlfriend before heading off to the pen for the next seven years."

Time's up!  Back to mass chaos!

Courtroom Drama

First off, I have a question for you seasoned bloggers.  What the hell is a "meme?"  I've seen it used on several blogs, but even using my context clues I cannot figure out its meaning.  It's making me crazy like those big, green, pus-filled zits TG used to get when we were in middle school.  I couldn't talk to him because I couldn't stop staring at the zits!!!  Any way...  How about a little story???

Today was an incredible day for people-watching.  I took the day off so that I could go down to 201 Poplar to take care of an unfortunate little traffic citation.  If you aren't from around here, let me give you a brief glimpse of 201 (as my homies refer to it).

201 is the justice complex for Memphis and Shelby County.  It houses several courtrooms as well as the pokey.  This ain't no Barney Fife-type pokey either.  This is the real deal!  It's like the inner sanctum of HELL!  There some live-ass criminals up in there!  And I had to mingle with those criminals as I made my way to traffic court.

As I entered the complex, I had to walk through a metal detector and my belongings were scanned on a little conveyor belt like those in the airport.  I was stopped and questioned by the guard.  Apparently, I had a "weapon" in my purse.  He showed me the screen and asked if I was carrying scissors.  Yikes! 

No sir.  I don't have any scissors, officer sir. 

"Ma'am, they are right here on my monitor." 

Uh...I guess I'll just dump out the contents of my purse??  Sir, yes sir?

He was right; I was armed.  I had to forfeit a pair of eyebrow tweezers that were in my cosmetic bag.  Guess I'll be sporting the au naturel uni-brow from here on out...

When I got upstairs to the courtroom area, I sat near a young brotha and his peeps.  Apparently, he "had caught a drug charge."  He claimed the weed was his, but not the pills.  Damn those cops! as if it were their fault that he "had caught a charge."  Not that his stupid ass was involved in a criminal act and should be punished!!!  NO!  He and his mama were cutting up like they were at the Comedy Club.  Apparently, this was not his first trip to 201.

When the courtroom doors opened, people were piling in.  They packed us all into the courtroom like sardines.  Sergeant Hardass wouldn't let us sit where we wanted to.  We were seated in the order we came in.  "Slide on down, folks!  Don't leave any room."

On my way in, I noticed a court clerk.  She was an extremely LARGE woman with hideous taste.  She was wearing some black polyester pants, white sports socks, and some black Merrell's (like the MIL from hell wears).  I tried to capture her ensemble with my cell phone, but she got away too quickly.  THAT, I thought, was the most felonious thing I'd seen all morning.   Other moments that made me gasp???  People going to court LATE!  People wearing shorts and undershirts!  People wearing their hats and sunglasses in front of the judge!  What happened to Contempt of Court???  I was appalled.

 After my ticket was dismissed, I had to go down to the basement area to pay the court costs.  As I descended down the escalator, I noticed all the camera crews and the gazillion people lined up waiting to get into another courtroom.  I walked passed them on my way to pay my fine.  Being the hopeless rubber-necker that I am, I could not help but stare and wonder.

By the time I'd paid my fine, the news anchors were interviewing this small, unassuming black woman.  She looked like a normal person; not a celebrity.  Then it dawned on me.  Ah-ha!  The Lester Street murder case was going on today!  This must be one of the family members.  The Lester Street murders are famous in that they featured on my favorite show, A&E's The First 48 Hours!  Dude killed his brother, his wife, and some of the kids -- seven people in all.  And my man, Tony Armstrong, and his team got him to confess ON THE SHOW!  Sucks for his attorneys...

If that courtroom wasn't standing room only, I would have stayed.  Most people would have hated spending their day off at 201.  Not me, though.  That was the best free entertainment I've seen in a very long time!!! 

Memoir Monday - Our Wedding

Ey-yite, bitches!  It's that time again -- Memoir Monday!  Check out Travis, the creator and demi-god, at I Like to Fish.  Dude is hilarious, and so are those who participate in this little soiree.

Since Valentine's Day and chocolate and love are still fresh on the brain, I can't help but think about my wedding day.  The day on which my husband and I were joined in holy matrimony until death. do. us. part.  That beautiful day when all things are perfect.  That special day when this man and this woman were joined for life.  A day not to be outdone by any other!  A day that will remain fresh in my memory for the rest of my life.

It went down like this...

My husband and I met in January of 2002.  It didn't take long before we were doing it several times a day completely in love!  By May of 2002, we were shacked up and still doing it as often as possible without getting chafed.  

By August, we nearly dead from all the doing it realized we'd finally met the right one.  That, and I hadn't started my period.  Uh-oh!  What now??

"Let's get married, baby!"  This was on a Friday.  The following weekend was Labor Day weekend.  We already had plans to go to Nashville for a football game.  I guess that's as good a time as any, right??

We had less than a week to "plan."  Monday, we went to the courthouse for a license.  Check.  Tuesday, I found a dress.  Check.  Great, but where will we get married?  And who is going to marry us.

My husband, God love him, is a resourceful, simple man.  He knows everyone in our area and is related to about 80% of them.  While at work, he had an epiphany and was so excited when he called me to tell me that he'd found a resolution to our little clergy/facility problem.  I wish I'd recorded this conversation on my voicemail.  It was a classic.  Unfortunately, I will have to go by what I remember...

"Hey, baby!  I've got good new!"

What?

"We can get married at the little gazebo in the town square."

Aw, that's nice.  Yes, that will work.

"Oh, and I found a minister to marry us."

Really??  That quickly?

"Yep.  Frank is going to marry us." 

Frank?

"Yea, baby.  Frank!"

But I thought he was your janitor/handy man?

"Well, he is.  But he's a preacher, too!  He's even got his own church!  I think there are only about 20 people in the congregation all of which are kin folks, but he's official!"

This was Wednesday.  I was desperate. 

That Friday, we were married by Frank during my husband's lunch hour.  We literally walked across the street from his office to the gazebo, got married, grabbed some lunch, and headed to Nashville. 

I cried the entire time.  I was the eternal bachelorette.  I could not believe what I'd just done!  I'm not sure if it was because I felt like I was losing my identity or the pregnancy hormones.  Regardless, I cried off and on for the next 72 hours.

A lot has happened since then.  I lost that baby, but I really did find my soulmate.  In fact, that miscarriage made me realize just how lucky I was to have married such an awesome man.  He was so caring and compassionate -- nothing like the boyfriends before him.  He loved me; it was obvious.

I've never regretted marrying my husband.  He's pissed me off a time or two, but no regrets.  I do wish that our wedding day would have been more "traditional."  And it would be nice to actually have some photos from that day.  I think the wedding we had is actually very fitting.  It was quirky and funny much like we are as a family and as a couple.  It cracks me up just thinking about it!   

My Son's Curse

I'm such a little thief.  I totally borrowed this idea from Moooog at Mental Poo.  He's always got very cute (de-)motivational posters on his blog.  He makes them at bighugelabs.com.  I seized one of those rare, but awesome, Kodak moments and wanted to share.

My son will probably need years of therapy over this one.  Why do moms feel the need to take humiliating pictures of their children?  Why am I one of those moms???

It never fails, though.  No matter where we go, my son must test and tune the toilet first thing.  It's like his little body clock say, "Now's your chance, dude!  Go stink up the restroom!"  What is his deal?

Today we went to a little girl's birthday party.  He was so excited to be there!  They had a big Bounce House with a slide - his absolute favorite!  Wooo Hooo!  He and his sister climbed in while I found a seat.  My daughter came down the slide so I expected my son shortly afterwards.  When he didn't show up after a few minutes, I went to look for him.  Once I realized he was not in the party room, I walked straight to the restroom.  Sure enough, there he was.  Sitting on the pot.  With a trash can in front of him.  And the door wide open.

When he gets really excited, stressed, nervous, etc., he has to puke and poop.  It's as natural to him as having to brush his teeth in the morning.  Sometimes when he's REALLY psyched about something, he'll go at home (usually when we are running late and have no time) and then again at our destination.  I feel bad for him, but he doesn't seem to mind it.  It's just part of his regular "preparations."

I remember being a very nervous child.  I puked a lot, too.  I distinctly remember standing in line for the Pirates of the Carribbean at Disney World holding a styrofoam puke cup.  Pretty gross, I know, but what was I supposed to do???  I wanted to ride!

I also used to puke on the first day of school every year.  Without fail, my mom would have to pull over to the side of the road so that I could vomit.  Once I got to school and saw my friends, I was fine.  I didn't stop doing it until high school where I discovered "liquid" courage.  After a few beverages, I had nerves of steel.  Screw first impressions; give me another!

My husband is pretty bad, too.  When he's troubled about something, he does like my son.  He, too, has frequented every toilet in the tri-state area.  He's the first person I ever met that actually kept a roll of toilet tissue in his car.  I'd heard of keeping your Sonic napkins in case you are at a Kegger in the bottoms, but carrying actual toilet paper???  Very weird.

I guess son just didn't have a chance.  It's his destiny.  And now it's been captured in pictures and my blog for ETERNITY.  Please don't call child protective services on me. 

   

The Cell Phone Tumor

Have you ever come in contact with a stranger who annoyed you so badly that you just wanted to say something to them???  Yes, I know I'm more irritable than usual right now, but this lady at McDonald's got on my last. freakin'. nerve!

First off, she's one of those who has a cell phone attached to the side of her head.  I don't mean she has one of those ear pieces; she has an actual flip phone that apparently grew from a seedling and is now attached to her ear.  (I'm lying, but that would be whacked and very funny.)  The entire time she is in front of me in the line, she's talking on her damn cell phone.  She's ordering in between the "hold on a sec."  Even when I'm not on my period, this makes me want to rip someone's head off!  I'm no effin' Emily Post, but that's just rude as hell! 

She pays and tries to juggle two big ice cream cones still talking using the bent-neck technique.  Of course, the girl at McDonald's is trying to conduct business and cannot finish her transaction until she takes her freakin' change!  Luckily, one of her kids came to rescue the ice cream.  You'd think all that hassle would have gotten her off the phone, but no.  She just kept bumping those gums.  Blah, blah, blah...  If I weren't so doggone pissed, I might have found something even more humorous in her conversation.

I turned to look at the woman behind me who was also annoyed, and we both shook our heads.  Get off the damn phone, bi-otch Lady!  Hello??  Your kid's hair is on fire!  Your left boob is hanging out of your shirt.  Look!  You just won the lottery!!!  Oblivious to everyone around her, she walked back to her table in the play area.

When my kids and I got into the play area, she annoyed my ass again!  Apparently, she and her kids had been there for quite some time.  They'd already eaten, but now she was "treating" the kids to an ice cream cone.  Treat, my ass!  Not only was she attached to her cell phone, she was glued to her laptop as well!  Seriously!  Once she back down at the table, you'd have thought she was watching some Brad Pitt porn.  (I don't think he's actually done any.  That's just me wishful thinking.)  Her kids called, but she never took her eyes from the screen.

Of course, it's Saturday and the trough was crowded especially in the play area.  This was no time for loitering!  Eat your shit, and get the hell out!  It ran across my mind, but I bit my tongue.  After a few moments of scanning the room for a seat, we found one directly across from her!  As much as I'd rather not look at her any longer, my daughter refused to let me sit on the opposite of the table.  I was left no choice but to sit facing her and her kids.

Since I am a terrible people-watcher, I was forced to stare at her while the kids played.  Lucky for me, she was so engrossed in whatever it was she was viewing on her laptop that she never noticed me.  Again, I am annoyed. 

Why don't you at least look at your freakin' kids sitting there???  Looks like they haven't had a brush through that ratty hair in a week.  Obviously, you don't pay them any attention when they are getting dressed either because their clothes don't match.  I cannot believe you took your family out in public looking like something one of my dog's chew toys so you can get some free WiFi and porn a cheeseburger!  Get your fat ass up so some other folks can eat.  This isn't a truck stop! 

When we left, her ass was still sitting there.  On the phone.  Staring at her laptop.

It may be time to up my dosage...

Chasing the Dragon, Um, Dress

Oh, I'm sitting in some dangerous territory right now. I'm secretly perusing eBay for some springtime deals. I found 'em, too! Sheesh, my husband will literally have my ass if he finds out. I wonder if I can get a WiFi connection in my closet?? Maybe I'll just set the alarm on my cell phone for 2 a.m. He'll be sound asleep.

Seriously, that's how I feel. It's like I'm a junkie trying to hide my addiction. Today, I was bidding on a very cute smocked dress for my daughter. I was winning! I was so proud...until the last five minutes. That is when some crazy interloper began to rain on my parade. She outbid me with 4 1/2 minutes to go!

Take that! I upped my bid. I'm winning again. How you like me now, heifer?! Then she did it to me again. Uh-oh...OMfreakin'G! There's only 1 minute and 30 seconds left! That's when I had a stupid-ass idea an epiphany. Hey, I'll just put in some outrageous bid so that she can't possibly beat me. Yes! Ten seconds...nine...eight... seven...six...wait, how much is it up to now??? Five...oh shit; she's not going to bid anymore?...four...three...I'm dead...two...Congratulations! You won! :(

Here is today's expensive lesson in humility!

The euphoria was momentary. I ended up paying way too much for that freakin' dress. Yes, it's cute. No, it is not worth what I paid.  Why in the world do I do crap like that? Now I don't even want that damn ratty thing!  My big, fat competitive spirit bit my big, fat ass!

Oh, I'll get over it, though. No, I never learn my lessons that quickly. It will probably take bankruptcy and foreclosure for me to stop buying so much STUFF! Of course, then I'll probably just buy too much STUFF at the Goodwill.  Apparently, I'm bound and determined to fill my house with as much STUFF as I can possible acquire. 

Ummmm... *That's me sighing a great big, ol' sigh.*

Where's that bottle of Vodka???

A Danger to Society

Uh-oh! It's the week of her PMDD, and Mama didn't take her meds this morning!

Some people think that taking nervous medicine is actually a requirement for teachers. Not so. There are lots of teachers who come to school unarmed. Of course, they probably talk to their staplers during their planning periods. Don't get me wrong; I'm not knocking those who prefer to befriend staplers or any other office supplies. I guess whatever gets you through the day, right?

For me, though, I MUST take my medication without fail. Every single day. If I don't, there is H-E-double hockey sticks to pay the week before Eve's little curse! Thanks, bi-otch! I can literally feel the blood rushing to my face every time Johnny does something stupid like squirt Germ-X on his friend or chew the keys off the keyboard. Just because. Yes, Johnny is in high school.

You can only imagine how extremely dangerous it is for me to walk around amongst the common folk. It's damn-near as lethal as putting Anthrax in the sweet tea dispenser. I am seriously NOT in my right mind, and cannot be held responsible for anything I say or do. At least, that's what my lawyer says.

Today I nearly busted a blood vessel. Picture it. Last period of the day. The students are taking a test. Junior starts scraping something on the bottom of the desk which makes a noise similar to that of metal grinding. Shortly thereafter, laughter ensues because it's. SO. freakin'. hilarious! (Doesn't take much to entertain them...)

As I reprimand Junior and his silly posse, Ellie Mae starts to wander around the room. While we are still taking a test! Apparently, the boy sitting four rows over asked her something. WTF??? Did I mention we were taking a test?? Junior and his posse found this, too, very amusing. Hilarious. We're at school, dammit! Don't they realize fun is not allowed!! I'm usually pretty laid back, but remember?? I'm not on my meds today? Any way... After a screaming tirade a polite consultation, I finally got the three year olds teenagers back on task.

OMG! Why do things always go apeshit when I am experiencing the symptoms of PMDD? Praise Jesus that we only have about 20 more minutes of school. If Ellie Mae and Junior can just keep it together for 20 more minutes, I'm home free! But do you really believe that's what happened? Come on now... I don't roll like that.

As we were wrapping up, I received an email from my son's preschool teacher. She wrote to tell me that, for the past two days, my son has arrived at school having not been fed lunch. She said that on Tuesday she gave him a Pop-Tart because that was all she had. Today, she actually bought him something to eat in their cafeteria. WTF?!?!

I know I'm all over the place, but bare with me. My kids go to daycare each morning where they are fed breakfast and a hot lunch. Directly after lunch, they catch a bus from daycare to preschool. Apparently, the daycare sent my kid to school with NO LUNCH!! Even though my family is probably the only ones actually PAYING at the facility, my kids are not getting fed??? See, I told ya. Apeshit.

After dismissal, I got my husband on the 411. He called the daycare where they acknowledged that, yes, he was not fed on Tuesday. WHAT?? Who does that crap??? I got in my car with my heart pounding out of my chest and my head literally about to blow off. I know it would have been a mess, but that's where I was. By the time I got to the daycare, I was clutching my ears to avoid a nasty explosion. When I walked in, the director addressed me right away. She could tell that Maniacal Mama had just arrived.

Here's what happened: Yes, his bus showed up before he'd been fed on Tuesday. She spoke to the preschool and offered to personally bring him a meal. It was an error; she apologized. Today, however, my son did get fed. He chose not to eat stating that he didn't like what was served. He ate the corn and fruit, but not the main dish. In other words, he lied.

Phew, thank God! My kid is a liar, but I am thanking the Big G! Things could have gone horribly wrong. Some heads were about to roll. See? A crazy person...what kind of adult does that? Well, I know those parents at the Chuck E. Cheese, but besides them... Okay, that dad who killed another parent over a kids' hockey game. But not me; I am not a weave snatchin', bottle bustin' brawler. That was my sister.

Don't worry; tomorrow will not go like this. I've already put my pills in my purse.