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The Ramblings of a Redneck Diva
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
Mood:  quizzical
Topic: Complete utter nonsense
Warning found on the fender of my four-wheeler:

"Never use with drugs or alcohol"

I promise that from now on I will never drink or shoot up my four-wheeler ever again. Obviously
it doesn't mix with my illegal drugs and alcohol.

I know it means that you shouldn't ride the ATV while under the influence, but to me today it read that I should not freebase or smoke my ATV.

I promise I won't.

The Diva has spoken at 10:32 PM CST
A few pictures
Topic: Lookit da pretty pictures
I've only got a few pictures from the Bash and I posted them in an album for all to see. Christy, sweetie, if you read my blog daily you'll see this and know that I really need you to send me the other pictures! LOL And Courtney, because I posted those pictures of you, you have permission to post awful drunk pictures of me as well. I promise.

Hoover Bash Pics

Bookmark that and keep checking back. Eventually I'll hound Christy enough that she'll send me hers!

The Diva has spoken at 9:50 PM CST
'Twas the night before THAT kind of party
Mood:  silly
Topic: Complete utter nonsense
Twas the night before Chanukah and all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a tiger (-gosh, I hate it when them tigers start stirring). The pants were hung by the chimney with care in hopes that Jessica Simpson soon would be there (-I know lots of guys who hope that same thing). The children were nestled all snug in their beds while visions of escargot danced in their heads. And Mama in her g-string and I in my brassiere had just settled down for long winter's nap (-Mama in a g-string and the dude's gonna take a nap??). When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my loveseat to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a leopard, tore open the shutter and threw up the sash. Mars on the breast of the new-fallen snow gave a luster of midday to objects below. When what to my wondering eyes should appear but a miniature Jeep and 4 hairy zebras. With a little old driver so pink and many (-"many"? Eh, you never know what you're going to get when you ask for an adjective) I knew in a moment it must be Jessica Simpson. More rapid than airplanes her coursers they came and she whistled and shouted and called them by name: "Now Leroy, now Fluffy Peters, now Gem and Adam! On Jessica Flowers and Festus and Ruth and Bozo! To the top of the telephone pole to the top of the tree! Now dash away, dash away dash away all!" As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly when they met with an obstacle mount to the sky, so up to the Empire State Building the coursers they flew with a Jeep full of cities and Jessica Simpson, too, and then in a twinkling I heard on the roof the screwing and scratching of each little hoof (-screwing AND scratching? My kind of reindeers). As I drew in my leg and was turning around, down the chimney Jessica Simpson came with a bound. She was dressed all in satin from her head to her foot and her clothes were all tarnished with mud and bats (-damn bats tarnishing up everything). A bundle of ovaries she had flung on her back (-IEW!)and she looked like a carnie just opening her pack. Her boobs - how they twinkled! Her butt - how merry!(-wish I still had a merry butt...*sigh*) Her butt cheeks were like roses, her face like a cherry! Her droll little mouth was drawn up like a grub worm and the beard on her chin was as orange as Christy's puppy. The stump of a table she held tight in her teeth and the smoke it encircled her head like John's gut. She had a broad finger and a little round belly that shook when she walked like a bowl full of fish. She was happy and girlish, a right jolly old elf and I boinged when I saw her in spite of myself (-a lot of guys would boing if they saw Jessica Simpson in their living room). A wink of her eye and a twist of her uvula soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. She spoke not a word but went straight to her work and filled all the vaginas, then pushed with a jerk,(-it was at this point that I could hardly read the story I was laughing so hard) and laying Ethiopia aside of her nose, and giving a nod, up the chimney she rose. She sprang to her Jeep, to her team gave a whistle and away they all ran like a down of a thistle. But I heard her exclaim as she drove out of sight "Shove it up your ass, you stupid skinny bitch!"

Merry Christmas everybody!

The Diva has spoken at 7:19 PM CST
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
"Yes, it's THAT kind of party!"
Mood:  party time!
Topic: It's a good thing
Okay, so finally Super Mom has returned to the Mom-cave for some much-needed bloggin' time. Wow, but I'm a busy girl! After next Monday I have nothing on the calendar and I sincerely hope it stays that way till Christmas Eve. Oh please let it stay that way...

Now, the rundown of the events of the Hoover Bash, the best I can remember them, and not necessarily in chronological order or any logical order at all, for that matter.

Since darlingest sister had helped with the house on Friday there wasn't a whole lot to do on Saturday, thankfully. Paul mopped (Yes, friend Monkey- he mopped!) and even helped me cut the cheese (Yes, BabsI said "cut the cheese" AGAIN *giggle*)for the meat and cheese tray and then managed to keep himself busy playing PS2 all freaking afternoon. But I'm not bitter. At least he wasn't out hunting or cutting wood or somewhere off where I couldn't holler if I needed him, which he has been known to do. The kids took a nap in the afternoon while I frantically typed up the mad-lib for the party, which I thought I had saved from previous years, but obviously had not. That out of the way, I cleaned the bathroom and then showered. Then it was time to shower the kids, get them pj'd and ready to go to Grammy with the Circle Head's house for the night. Paul hauled them all to town and I had roughly 45 minutes of utter silence. It was a good 45 minutes. I even sat down and checked my email, lol.

It started at 6. Six, you say? But Diva, we thought the party started at 7. Nope, not when the life of the party, Miss Little C herself comes traipsin' through the door at promptly 6:00. Hey, it didn't bother me in the least - I honestly thought she was just being a good cousin and coming early to help. Had she not embarrassingly said, "It starts at 7 doesn't it?" after she'd been here a bit, I'd have thought that all evening. But man, was she a great help! I was rushing around playing Super Host and trying to get the meatballs going and she finished cutting up the papers we needed for the Newlywed Game. It really was a great help. Her paper-cutting skills are really developing there in Kindergarten, lol.

All but 3 couples that were invited showed up. Hilarious and slightly insane Cousin Keith and his adorable wife, Alyssa, didn't get to come because it was his company Christmas party, but Chad and Courtney more than made up for the lack of cousins. We started out eating and OH the food! BBQ meatballs, 7-layer dip, cheeseballs, some fabulous dip that Tiff brought, cheeseburger soup, pinwheels, and then the desserts! It was a party-food paradise. After eating we decided there was far too little alcohol on the premises - even though Sis and Bub brought in roughly $91.12 worth of liquor (I just went into my dining room and added it up, lol) - so Tiff and Courtney went on a beer run. We visited and patiently awaited their return. And drank the liquor that was on the premises.

When they arrived with much Schmirnoff for me, and some beer and more somethings alcoholic, we started the ornament exchange. We played Dirty Santa with them and at first no one was going to steal. Man, what a nice, polite group of friends I have! Finally, it was my turn and by golly I stole! Then I got stolen from. THEN the light of heaven came down and shone upon the gingerbread man and God said "Take the gingerbread man and make him yours". Who am I to argue with God-light from heaven? I stole the gingerbread man. By me stealing him it retired him from the game and I immediately took him to my kitchen tree, his new home. Except


Husband knows where the gingerbread man is. So does my brother in law. God's gonna deal with you two as well.

Anyway, back to the party... After the stealing of ornaments, we played the Newlywed Game. 10 questions for each gender is too many, just for the record. I thought that game was never going to end. Bob Eubanks would've shot himself, I'm sure of it. There was much laughing, much blushing, and much threatening of divorce.

Then came time for the traditional HOOVER CHRISTMAS BASH MAD-LIB. Some knew what the story was going to be, but most didn't. All they did was go around the room giving me random words and phrases, then I plugged them in to Twas the Night Before Christmas. Oh my gosh, who knew Jessica Simpson had 8 hairy zebras, two of which were named Leroy and Fluffy Peters. I have every intention of posting the entire story as I read it that night. I haven't laughed that hard in a long time.

The more liquor we partook of, the more requests there were for karaoke. Courtney is the karaoke queen ya know. And she "will survive". I have the pictures to prove it and they will be posted tomorrow.

Jason called me to the center of the room and proceded to do his "Carlos" impersonation. Something about a magic trick, he was going to make his weiner disappear, then reappear, then disappear again, if I'd just bend over that chair... I did not bend over that chair.

We played a few rounds of "Party Quirks" from Whose Line is it Anyway? Goodness, but if you ever want to laugh till you stop and do it till tears come, ask my cousin Chad (who stole my gingerbread man, btw) to impersonate "Spiderman who keeps losing and regaining his Spidey powers". You can also ask him to pretend to be "Santa on crack". Chandler's mom, Jill, crawled into my living room as a paranoid reindeer, my brother in law was a drunk Easter Bunny hitting on all the women, Courtney cowered behind a folding chair thinking that I, her most gracious and kind host, was going to kill her, but I have to agree with Tiff, the clincher of the night was when John impersonated John Wayne trying on a Speedo. Of course, I couldn't concentrate too much on John because at that point Chad's magically appearing and disappearing spider webs had drawn him to my left leg where he was humping it like there was no tomorrow. It was kinda distracting, if you wanna know the truth. But hilarious, all of it.

Things wound down around 1:30 and by 2:00 I had discovered the disappearance of the gingerbread man. Annoying bugger, that Chad.

Tomorrow I will finish the photo album of the party pics (Christy, have you sent those pics yet? I still haven't gotten them!) and will post the link. And that mad-lib. Definitely the mad-lib.

The Diva has spoken at 11:12 PM CST
Friday, December 10, 2004
Tapioca pudding
Mood:  rushed
Topic: It's a good thing
The countdown has begun to the Hoover Bash. 20 hours to commencement. Yikes.

I love hosting parties, but I'm absolutely exhausted tonight. Having a hard time getting into the spirit of things right now. Thanks to my dearest, darlingest sister, though, my house is virtually clean! She sold out of every item in Santa's Workshop before noon today, shut it down and spent the rest of the day here, cleaning my filthy house with me. The woman dusts ceiling fans! Actually, "dusts" is the wrong term - she cleans, disinfects, deodorizes and God knows what else to those things! I am content to run a broom or feather duster over the blades to knock off the visible dust hanging from the edges, threatening to fall on an innocent bystander. Not my sister - she had me run a sink full of hot soapy water and then I suddenly became her Paper Towel Bitch, running back and forth while she cleaned my ceiling fans. Not complaining, just marvelling.

All I have to do tomorrow is clean the bathroom and do my baking/cooking. Paul is going to mop the kitchen and dining room, although he doesn't know it yet. He's in the living room, snoring rather loudly, possibly dreaming of submissive deer who walk towards you with bullseyes on their sides or perhaps about obsessively cleaning his stupid truck. I dunno about his dreams, but I do know that he agreed to help me out tomorrow and I AM holding him to it and he WILL mop that floor. How do I know this? I am a woman, that's how. Here's how I see it: We have no kids tomorrow night. They are spending the whole night with their Grammy With the Circle Head. He is going to want sex after our guests leave (certainly not while they are here, for those of you who will be here - don't freak out). If he does not mop the floor there will be no sex, even in the quiet, childless house. I have spoken. Shalom.

My gosh, but I love tapioca pudding. Sitting at the computer in your pj's, listening to Christmas music on the radio and eating tapioca pudding is pretty durn wonderful in my book.

The Diva has spoken at 10:46 PM CST
Thursday, December 9, 2004
No clever (or even unclever) title whatsoever
Mood:  spacey
Topic: Go Super Mom, Go!
Another busy, busy day. I left my house at 9:30 this morning and walked back through the door at 3:58, just minutes before Brownies started, which of course is held at my house. My dishwasher was full of dirty dishes and had been sitting there full of stinking dirty dishes for 2 days because I was out of dishwasher detergent and had been for 3 days. I also had another nearly complete load of dirty nasty dishes sitting in my sink. The dining room table had enough dropped food and crumbs under it to feed at least 3 homeless people. The bathroom was bordering on biohazard status. The living room had 4 gazillion toys scattered all over the floor. There were dirty towels piled in the hallway and I'm pretty sure there was a pair of dirty underwear in the bathroom floor, but they're strangely gone now, so I'm thinking my sister saved me from mortification by either throwing them away or hiding them somewhere. I wanted to cry when I watched 'Kenzie's mom walk down my hall toward that nasty bathroom. I'm sure her house is spotless.

But the Brownie meeting went fabulously! I loved sitting in the Brownie circle with those girls, talking about taking our Winter Survival Kits to the women's shelter and talking about our carolling expedition the week of Christmas and hey, 4 of the 5 girls sang their hearts out when we practiced. Mackie mouthed the words and I just KNOW that one of these days we will actually hear words come from that child's mouth! (She is so precious, Christy!) We made 10 Survival Kits, ate Double Stuff Oreos, and had a grand ol' time.

Sis and I spent the day in Joplin, agh. It was supposed to be a quick trip up there and back, but we spent over an hour at the Girl Scout Council office making copies, taking a tour of the place, registering my girls, getting a troop number, checking out patches, buying books and manuals, and just in general getting excited about Scouting. Then it was off to the mall to exchange a few things, pick up a few things. THEN off to the WM to pick up a few things. Notice how we spent the day "picking up a few things"? And we ran nearly everywhere we went. I feel like I run everywhere these days. Like Forrest Gump "I was run-ning".

Now I'm in my pj's, watching ER over my shoulder while I type, and patiently awaiting the arrival of 10 o'clock when it's over so I can go to bed. Oh the flannel-ness of those sheets!

Tomorrow KD and I are staying at home all day until it's time to take Sam to karate. She's going to "wash" her dishes, which is basically her standing in a chair, flinging bubbles all over the place, giggling like a loon and in turn, buying me about an hour of cleaning. Then she's going to write on the white-board, something she's been looking forward to all week. I'm going to turn her loose with the dry-erase markers and watch her go. It's gonna be a good day, I can tell. I love Fridays because it's just me and KD.

The Diva and the Princess. Yeah.

The Diva has spoken at 9:29 PM CST
Wednesday, December 8, 2004
The magic of Christmas
Mood:  celebratory
Topic: It's a good thing

Sunday when she, Sis and I got together here to watch The Five People You Meet in Heaven, we saw a commercial for The Polar Express Santa at Hallmark. For only $9.95 and the purchase of 3 Hallmark cards you, too, can own this exemplary specimen of Santa-dom. My mother is a card fanatic. I, however, am not. So I told her that if she needed to buy any cards I'd give her the $10 to pick me up a Santa. No big. I figured if she went up that way she'd let me know.

Tonight she called at 8 and asked if she could come out for a bit. After making sure things were okay (because it is a 20 minute drive out here after all) I awaited her arrival, wondering what in the world would prompt her to drive out here at 8:30 at night. Well, my enchiladas for one thing. I make some damn good beef enchiladas, ask Tiff. So when she got here I heated her up an enchilada and fixed her a glass of tea. She then asked if she could talk to Paul and I both for a little while and could he please turn down the TV. I thought "Oh holy night, what on earth is the matter, who's dying?" Instead of giving us bad news she told me to type Paul up a cover letter to have them pull his app at the college. PRAY, my bloggy friends, PRAY. That's all I'm gonna say on that for now.

Okay, so the job application cover letter drama over, we visited a while, she looked at my newly cleaned and rearranged bedroom and then said she was going home. She had brought in a Christmas present she had bought for Sam and wanted to show me and when she bent to, what I thought was, pick up the box she squealed (she's as freaked out by mice as I am - maybe moreso) and said "Oooh! What's that?" Well, in my house there really is no telling. So she bent back over again and then I heard a voice say "Remember, the magic of Christmas lies in your heart." and I squealed "YOU GOT ME THE POLAR EXPRESS SANTA!!!!!!!" and then started to cry.

I swear to you I could not help it. I was like a child on Christmas morning seeing THE present I wanted under the tree. I gave her the biggest hug I've given her in years. Why getting this particular Santa affected me this way I have no clue, but I really do like my Polar Express Santa. He's on my bed right now and there is no way in HELL I am letting my kids play with him. I have given up several of my Santas for the kids, but this one is a strictly "no touchy" Momma toy.

Man, I love Christmas.

The Diva has spoken at 10:16 PM CST
Tuesday, December 7, 2004
Little C - you gotta check her out
Mood:  happy
Topic: All in the family
I'm telling you, Courtney's got this blogging thing down now! She's gonna be great. Check out what she wrote tonight about my son. You really gotta.

The Diva has spoken at 10:51 PM CST
It's Tuesday. Yep, Tuesday. Alllllllll day it's been Tuesday
Mood:  energetic
Topic: Kids & other noisy things
I accomplished SO much today! I wasn't sure how it would go because usually Mondays and Tuesdays I don't accomplish much because I've got the extra kid and well, she's one and a half and well, no one accomplishes much with a kid that age in their house. Except playing! But I knew I had things to do and I pressed on. I rearranged my entire bedroom and dusted it. Yes. I dusted my bedroom. I do that like twice a year. No kidding. I mean, I dust the living room like once a month (the kids will run amuck with the feather duster occasionally as well), but I never dust my bedroom. We live on a dirt road, what's the point of dusting. 20 minutes later it's covered in a layer of dust again. I gave up long ago. But out here in the bedroom, it was a much dusty place. It shines now, lemme tell ya. And between the orange scented Grabits and the orange scented Pledge it's rather citrus-y out here tonight. And spacious! Amazing how just moving your bed and night stands to the spot they were in before that you hated because you felt you had no room can make you feel like there's more space. Now to get the sheets (which are freshly laundered ) back on the bed and slip into their flannell-y softness...mmmm.

Today KD played School all day. Now, they play school a lot, but usually Ab's here to boss them all around. They do what Ab says because she's Ab and she says so. But today K took it upon herself to think up the story line and run with it. Of course, bossing Chandler around. I wonder where my girls get it.... Anyhoo, she came down the hall in her Larry and Bob t-shirt, purple wind pants, Tinker Bell opaque green plastic "heels", Little Bear backpack on her back and about 20 strands of Mardi Gras beads. Why I didn't snap a picture I'll never know. Then she tells me she wants me to be the teacher. Well, honestly I was busy and on a roll dusting and all so I told her that maybe Chandler should be the teacher until Ab got home and I'd just be the janitor lady and I'd clean some more. That seemed to satify her. Off she clack-clacked in her Tink shoes. Then she came back, flipping her wild curls back off her shoulders and waving her arms like the drama princess she is said "Me know! You can be the Cooker Lady!" And so thus began the legacy of the Cooker Lady. Cooker Lady, in Kady speak, is a Lunch Lady or Cafeteria Worker or Elementary School Food Service Technician. Or something like that. All day long I'd be visited in my bedroom by a nearly 3 year old, a 2 and a half year old and a 1 and a half year old and they'd greet me with a chorus of "Hi Cooker Lady!!!" And occasionally she'd come out and ask me "Hey Cooker Lady, when you gonna fix me some lunch, Cooker Lady?" And I'd adjust my hair net - which today was a red 'do rag - and say, "In just a bit, little girl. Right now I'm spreading the scent of orange throughout my bedroom." or some other janitorial-like comment. She'd look at me funny and say "You so weird, Cooker Lady."

The Diva has spoken at 10:44 PM CST
Updated: Tuesday, December 7, 2004 10:45 PM CST
Monday, December 6, 2004
If you can ramble you can do anything
Mood:  silly
Topic: Rambling much
** "There's no place like home" was a pretty profound statement if you ask me.
** I look like a big fat plum in the sweats I'm wearing tonight. I hate these sweats, but man are they ever comfortable.
** My head still hurts, although now it's down do a dull, thudding throb.
** I worry that no one wants to talk on the phone to me anymore. I'm so desperate for adult conversation that when I actually get some, I grab onto that person for dear life and talk their poor ears off. I feel sorry for my friends who are trying to be nice, but I know that on the other end of the line they are doing the "blah blah blah" thing with their hand to their husband and rolling their eyes and wishing they'd never dialed that phone.
** It's very possible to be surrounded by people and be so lonely you want to cry.
** I really need to paint my toenails.
** The air in my house is so dry I fear we might all spontaneous ignite at some point.
** I think Spongebob Squarepants is just about the funniest cartoon around. I laugh out loud every time I watch it and I don't care if you think I'm a dork as I walk through my house going "I'm ready! I'm ready!"
** If Jimmy Buffet walked into my house right now and said "Drop your laundry, baby, I'm going to shag you rotten," (Although I highly doubt Jimmy Buffett would actually use the phrase "shag you rotten". Or "drop your laundry" either for that matter.) I'd drop said laundry and assume the position. With a smile on my face.
** I want a cigarette really badly. And a beer. And some chocolate.
** If I don't work on correcting my posture while I sit for hours on end at this computer I will end up all hunched over like my great-grandmother was. *shudder* *sits up straighter*
** I sometimes think about my high school boyfriend and thank my lucky stars I didn't marry him. Then there are times I wonder what it would be like if I had married him. Then I remember that he dumped me and never asked me to marry him anyway. Then there are other times I wonder if he's got more than $20 in his checkbook like I do and then I answer my own question by telling myself "Yes, dear, he probably has more money in his checkbook right now than you and your husband make in a year, you silly goose. He's in computers, you know and they don't have children and he doesn't ever think about you anymore" and that's when I really wanna pimp slap myself for being so hateful when I answer like that.
** Sometimes I think about my high school boyfriend and realize that because he dumped me I now have the three precious kids that drive me nuts sometimes but are so much a part of my soul and my being that I can't imagine life without making those many trips to Tulsa to the orthodontist, life without supplying them with a neverending supply of PB&J and seriously worrying about their nutritional status, I can't imagine never leaning down to kiss my son's adorable little boy head and breathing in his little boy smell and thinking that God probably bottled that one and uses it in heaven somewhere, and I can't imagine not being a Mom so unsure about my parenting skills that I lie awake at night sometimes crying and sobbing that I've royally screwed them up already and I can't imagine not dreaming about the great things they are going to do someday.
** Sometimes I think about that guy. But most of the time I'm too tired.

The Diva has spoken at 10:53 PM CST
A Great Big Bloggy Welcome to...
Mood:  happy

Courtney is the third person that blogs because they started reading mine. Talk about an ego trip. Hey, this is kinda like the five people you meet in heaven. This is the five people you lead into blogging. Christy, I'm waiting on you to said you were going to!

Anyhoo, Courtney has posted one smallish entry, but I guarantee you that there is so much more to come. She's amazing and I cannot WAIT to see what she puts forth. Check her out, say hey and tell her I sent ya and keep checking back!

The Diva has spoken at 7:58 PM CST
Oh the pain
Mood:  don't ask
Topic: Things in life that suck
Withdrawl from nicotine is a bitch.

Not just your average, run of the mill, everyday bitch either.

It's a raging, moaning, screaming, pulsating, angry throb in the middle of my head.

I'd rather cough and wheeze than feel the neverending compulsion to claw my face off with my toes, eat 40 pounds of chocolate at one sitting and gnaw ferociously on every pencil and inkpen in my house.

I'm doing this for my health?

Shit, I feel better already.

Last time I quit it wasn't this bad.

The Diva has spoken at 7:50 PM CST
I've been awful busy!
I made the blog a little more festive! Geez, like you hadn't noticed, eh? Anyway, hope y'all like it! If I had more knowledge of HTML I'd add pretty little diva-like graphics and such, but for now the preloaded templates with a few minor changes and tweaks per me will have to do.

I also created topics and will spend the evening putting everything in it's place. Like I have nothing better to do...

The Diva has spoken at 2:54 PM CST
Turd story
Mood:  incredulous
Topic: Complete utter nonsense
I told Friend Monkey to come on over here and read a funny turd story since he posted about a "lone turd" in a rest area's bathroom floor. It must be lonely being a turd on the floor...

Okay, so this guy works for a casino around here. He was at work one night when someone came along and told him that it looked like there was a turd in the floor. Well, imagine. Really. So off they go, trooping to find the turd. Sure enough, right in the middle of the casino floor is a pile of human excrement! So he decided they should pull the security tapes to find who did this. A little old lady on a freaking Hoveround (sings Hoveround! like a Swiss Miss yodeller) was bobbin' along when suddenly she stops her motorized gizmo, shifts her arse off of the seat, lifts her skirt and dumps a load on the casino floor. Then, like nothing happened, flipped down her skirt, scooted back onto the seat and motored off again.

Is that not the most HILARIOUS thing you've ever heard? Okay, well not for me either, but it was still pretty durn funny. We were laughing so hard I had a coughing fit. I nearly slid off the couch and none of us could speak we were all laughing so hard! Can you fathom ever doing that yourself? Okay, Monkey, really that was just a rhetorical question.

I think about it occasionally and get the giggles again, like a freaking 6 year old who laughs hysterically at the mere mention of "poop". I honestly can't imagine. How did she do this with no one witnessing it? Surely the place wasn't empty! And you know she wasn't wearing underwear if she was able to do it like that... *shudder* Agh and the biggest question WHY?????? It's not like it was a case of the diarrhea and she couldn't make it in time. This was actually piled poo.

I just can't fathom it...

What a great place to live. I can see the new signs at the turnpike gate: Miami - Poopy Casino Capitol of Oklahoma

The Diva has spoken at 12:33 AM CST
Updated: Monday, December 6, 2004 3:34 PM CST
Sunday, December 5, 2004
Kids are funny things
Topic: Mommy Moment
Either they are bickering at each other nonstop, threatening physical abuse or worse, death. They yell "SHE'S TOUCHING ME!" and "SHE'S BREATHING MY AIR!" and the like. They touch each other just so they can hear their sibling scream "SHE'S TOUCHING ME!" They swear they hate each other and that they wish they'd never had a brother/sister. They are noisy while they are doing all of this and I find myself counting to five. A lot. Slowly. Over. and. over.

Then other times they play together so well, squealing and screaming and giggling those adorable belly laughs that no adult is capable of. They share, for the love of God - they SHARE. They are loving and caring to each other and so protective of each other that I'd rather encounter a cranky badger with the DT's in a dark alley on a full moon than mess with the sibling they are protecting. I hear on the monitor (Yes, she's almost 3 and yes I still have a monitor in her room - so what?) things like "Sissy, you da best. Me loves you." and "God is cool for giving you to us, cuz you know Mom and Dad weren't planning on you." and "Sissy, can I marry you when I grow up?" and other sweet, precious things like that.

Being a mom is so cool.

The Diva has spoken at 5:03 PM CST
Updated: Monday, December 6, 2004 3:34 PM CST
Sunday! Sunday! Sunday!
Topic: Things in life that suck
My son has taken to yelling "Sunday! Sunday! Sunday!" rather loudly and obnoxiously like a sports announcer regaling the latest monster truck rally. He got up this morning and asked "Momma, what day is it?" I replied that it was Sunday and then it was all day long "Sunday! Sunday! Sunday!" I don't know where the kid gets it.

I attended church today. I know, big shocker. Oh hush, y'all. It's only been a few months, lol. Anyway, I attended a church that I attended when Ab was just barely a year old. We were going there when Sam was born. Then we drifted out of attendance, like we've done so many times before. I say "we", but it's always pretty much been me. Paul would attend occasionally, but never regularly. Hey I can't make him. This church is the other church that we shared a cabin with at camp this summer. I've known their youth minister since he was like 15 and he and my sister were inseparable. I've known a lot of the members since I was an infant. Some have known my mother and grandfather forever. It's like that all over town, though, small town, etc. But this church has always held a special place in my heart and why I left I'm not sure. I was obviously supposed to be somewhere else. But last Tuesday I really felt God was pressing on my heart to go back there. I, being the questioning, argumentative person I am, asked Him exactly why I should go back, it'd been so long, did He have a reason . . . Oh I was coming up with some doozies. I'd try to dismiss it, but still the urging was there. I was perplexed but decided that indeed I would go. One of these days.

Then Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, my cousin Courtney called to tell me that the pastor at this church and his family had been in a car wreck and all but the wife had been killed. How horrific. The day before Thanksgiving and this woman's entire family is gone. The day before Thanksgiving and a church is left without a pastor. The day before Thanksgiving and countless people all over town were left minus three very special friends. But I also had to keep in mind that the day before Thanksgiving, Heaven welcomed home three of it's own. What a joyous thought, but at the same time what a sad, sad thought. It's hard to rejoice as a Christian that they are now in heaven with Christ, when all you want to do as a human is scream out "WHY??? This isn't FAIR!!"

The Saturday after it happened I mentioned to Heather the fact that I felt God was telling me to go there and had been before the accident even happened. I asked her if she could tell me why God would want me at a church going through so much turmoil? Why would God want me to just drop back into this church's congregation when they were in such a time of need and hurt? My precious little sister, just said "Kristin, have you ever stopped to think that God wants you there. Period. If He is telling you to go there, He has a reason and it's not your place to question it. Just go." Of course I stammered out that I had no talents, nothing to offer, no words of wisdom and she simply said, "You do have talents and have you ever thought that maybe you being there might just be the encouragement someone needs?"

I answered the call this morning and attended Sunday School and morning worship. What an amazing church. What a tremendous outpouring of love and fellowship and brotherhood exists there. They are an amazing church, an amazing group of Christians and I was honored to be there today. If you pray, please lift up this church and this woman who lost so much. If you don't, send them good thoughts.

Now back to the monster trucks...up next the mega thunder truck, "God's Power", will smash over a 50 foot tall tower of fear, frustration, anxiety, turmoil and sadness. You can't miss it!!!

The Diva has spoken at 4:33 PM CST
Updated: Monday, December 6, 2004 3:33 PM CST
Saturday, December 4, 2004
Bedtime story
Mood:  cool
Topic: Writer's block banished!
I thought I'd share my latest story with y'all. I am a member over at Fizzle & Pop and we have these story contests that are mucho fun-o. Check out the link to the left also - we used to write about a town called Mystic Springs, but it got kinda confusing so we kinda gave up, lol. Anyway in these contests you are given a list of words and you must include those words in your story. Sometimes the rules change from round to round, like this round your story had to be 666 words exactly. Yeah, creepy, I know. Anyway, I missed the last two rounds because I was so busy, but I managed to slip a story in like 30 minutes before the deadline last night. Here it is in it's entirety. The highlighted words are the ones we had to use. Also, if you'd like to read any of my other ones, let me know. If enough are interested I'll post 'em.

She was mumbling to herself, twisting her thumb ring around and round and staring off at some unknown spot on the floor in front of her. She had shut the door to her office and prayed no one would wander in any time soon. Normally her door stayed open so when it was shut her coworkers usually knew it was for a good reason. It would be so typical if some idiot barged in today of all days, she had mused earlier. She sighed heavily and mumbled, her voice becoming quieter and quieter with each unintelligible word. She was perched on the edge of her desk chair and her legs were shaking from holding herself in place, trying not to cause her chair to shift on its wheels. "Dammit", she said faintly, her eyes moving suddenly from their fixed spot on the carpet. She was about short circuit and she knew it. She was dangerously close to it. Life got to her occasionally, and since she had discovered escaping, she was letting it get to her more and more. Her nerves were raw, her temper short and her emotional status was extremely fragile. But she had discovered the escape and it was far better than the infernal madness she endured daily. She settled back further into her chair, slipping her sweater off her shoulders as she kicked off her shoes as well. Slumping slightly into a more comfortable position she began twisting her ring again, her eyes losing focus, breath slowing and her legs losing tension and spreading far enough apart that it would've been enough to give a passerby a glance at what lay buried up beneath her gray wool skirt. She heard the telephone ringing somewhere off in the distance and although she didn't even bother to break her stare, she managed a mutinous glare at the noise that threatened her concentration. She closed her eyes, yearning for the escape to come. Deep breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth calmed her and she regained her focus and peacefulness once again. "Attention! Mahala Barger please report to Mr. Sheffield's office at your convenience." The words blared over the intercom fell on everyone's ears but her own. She was slipping away finally, drifting off to where the noises didn't matter and all she cared about was the quiet and the blessed noiselessness of it all. A grin slowly edged onto her lips and if one were to look close enough they would see her tongue tapping quickly against her top front teeth.

Her eyes always had a hard time adjusting to her suddenly opulent surroundings when she first entered the escape and she shielded them with her hands. Her bare toes dug into the cool grass and she shivered at the sensation it delivered to her body. Slowly she moved her hands away from her face, letting them drop to her sides as she stared in awe. She would never tire of the initial newness of each escape. She sighed heavily again, but this time it was one of contentedness and not of frustration. Tentatively she looked over her shoulder as if checking for someone behind her. No one had ever followed her and as far as she knew no one even knew of her newfound talent of escaping or of the escape itself. This was hers and she wasn't eager to share such a treasure.

Almost as if she sensed it before it happened, her smile suddenly faded and as the graphite colored paperweight connected with her skull she fell onto the ground, landing hard on her right side. Her eyes were unfocused once more, staring far off at some unknown point. She heard a cold voice cackle then say, "This is my escape, bitch. If you use it, I can't. Now you won't be able to anymore." She tried to move, knowing a fatal blow was coming, but all she could do was slow her breathing once more and escape.

The Diva has spoken at 10:39 PM CST
Updated: Monday, December 6, 2004 3:31 PM CST
One Voice
Topic: Rambling much
Well, my voice is back, but for who knows how long. It's kinda of been here in and out all day, but I've been able to speak for about 7 hours now. It's pretty scratchy, though, and when I talk a lot it starts to fade. Why, I haven't a clue. Dad said he really didn't think the makeup allergy had anything to do with the voice losing, but he also said stranger things had happened. Both can be due to histamine reactions, so they could be linked.


We went to the Christmas parade in town. Jim, my surrogate father of sorts, told me I was going to be one really cranky old lady. I dubbed myself the official "Parade Bitch". No one actually thought I'd do anything about the people standing in front of the children and the old folks sitting in their cars, but enough was enough finally. I made my kids stand on the curb where you are SUPPOSED to stand - not out in the middle of the freaking STREET. So of course, my kids couldn't see. Plus there was a carload of elderly folks sitting there helpless not able to see anything because the crowd that had edged out into the street had also edged over in front of them. Finally I had HAD it. I walked straight up to a crowd of people and kindly asked them to move so the folks in their car and all the short CHILDREN (who are more excited about the parade than the adults, ya know?) could see. I had to do it several times and I got some nasty looks, but geez. I even told Jim I was going to write a letter to the editor, too. He really laughed. That was when he told me I was going to stress myself into a heart attack before 50 and I was going to be a really cranky old person. Heh. Oh well. My kids were there for the parade, I personally couldn't care less about a parade. I go because my kids love it and I like watching them light up. If I can't see, good grief, I'm not going to lose sleep. But if they can't see, you can bet the mother bear in me is coming out of hibernation. Why is it that after about 10 floats go by the crowd is suddenly in the middle of the freaking ROAD???? No kidding! I looked down the street at one point and I guarantee you that my family was standing a good 6 feet behind the rest of the crowd. We were standing on the sidewalk. They were in the street. Bands were walking on toes, dudes dressed up as Cherry Limeades from the Sonic were tripping over people, horses were nearly trampling children, but did the crowd take the hint? Good heavens, no they might miss something.

We ended up moving from our original spot. I stood there about the crawl out of my skin for as long as I could. I know I'm going to sound like the world's biggest snob when I say this, but I'm really not. I hope you understand what I say. All around us were mullet-wearing, acid-washed jeans-wearing, greasy headed rednecks screaming at their kids between puffs on their cigarettes, WHICH they were smoking right in the middle of a crowd of people. (Don't get me wrong, I have nothing wrong with smoking, have been known to do it myself on occasion, but I also know where it is appropriate) I watched in horror as a mom squatted down to adjust her son's sock hat and blew smoke in his face. I also watched that same child sit on the curb and play in the mud and his mom screamed at him over and over and over and over (LOgan! Logan! Get OUT OF THAT MUD! Logan are you in the mud again?! Boy, get OUT of that mud. Logan don't make me come over there and get you, Logan!)and finally I was just about to say "Ya wanna lemme have a go at him? I bet if I bust him on the rear he'll quit that ya know." Agh! The chairman of Rednecks International was selling light-up fiber optic pacifers and baby bottles you could hang around your neck. "Complete with break-away necklace for your child's safety!" I heard the vendor say. The folks around me were swarming for 'em. And not just the kids. Sam turned around I know to ask for one and he opened his mouth and I raised one eyebrow at him and he said "I guess I won't ask for one, huh?" I finally could take no more. I turned to Paul, nodded for him to bend down where I could speak into his ear without making the crowd around me aware I was having a panic attack because of them and I said, "Husband, I am standing in the middle of my worst nightmare right now. It's a freaking redneck convention and I forgot my membership card. If you don't get me away from here right now I will scream. And quite loudly." He looked at me and said, "Hmh, well I think we should move then." And I know that when he turned to lead us to a new standing place he was rolling his eyes and smirking, but frankly all I cared about was moving far far away from the spot I had been in. At that particular moment he was my hero, my savior, he was the freaking BOMB. But later that changed and he was back to being the redneck I married. But at least he didn't have a freaking light-up pacifier around his neck NOR did he even attempt to buy them for our children. I gotta give him credit there.

The Diva has spoken at 10:28 PM CST
Updated: Monday, December 6, 2004 3:31 PM CST
Maybe she's born with it. Maybe it's Maybelline
Mood:  spacey
Topic: Things in life that suck
Okay, so my BFF introduced me to this new makeup right before she left to move far, far away to her own personal hell. It's Maybelline's new Dream Matte Mousse and I must say that is is honestly the BEST makeup I've ever worn. The coverage is amazing and my skin looked great. For awhile anyway. I loved this makeup so much that I told my sister about it, (she went out and promptly bought it as well) raving about the coverage and how great it felt on my skin and I had to touch-up far less during the day, blah blah blah. Maybelline could've freaking HIRED me to talk about their amazing makeup. But I don't think they'd hire me now because I'm ALLERGIC to it!

After wearing it for quite awhile I noticed that my eyes were unusually red all around, especially on the eyelid. They'd get puffy and eventually peel (yuck, I know it's gross, sorry), but after speaking with my father, who is an RN, he assured me it was like a hayfever type allergy to something in my environment. I kept on wearing my amazing new makeup. Then one night down at Sis' I went without makeup because my eyes were particularly itchy and peely that day. Sis commented that her eyes had started doing that too. Well, why we didn't put it all together then is a mystery to me. Well, my eyes got worse, so did hers. Hers eventually has spread down to around her mouth as well. I finally got wise and took a week off of wearing it. Not really because I thought I was allergic to it - I was running low and wanted to make sure I had enough to get me through the holidays. I'm such a dingbat. So for an entire week I wore a different foundation. My eyes healed completely. No more red, itchy, swollen, peely eyes.

But I'm a moron. I freely admit it. Thursday night was the kids' Christmas program and well, I always try to make myself look downright purty when I'm going to be around the other parents at school functions. So I dragged out the Dream Matte Mousse and fatefully smeared it allllllll over my face, eyelids included. Man, was I hot that night, lol. My makeup looked great, my hair was great (not in the least does my hair pertain to this story, I'm just bragging) and all was right with the world. When I got ready for bed that night I made sure I took it off really well, washed and rinsed, patted extra moisturizer all over and went to bed.

I woke up Friday morning looking like an abused wife. My right eye was completely swollen shut! I spent 30 minutes on the couch with a cold washcloth on it trying to at least get it open. By the time I left for Santa's workshop it was half open, but looked AWFUL still yet. Courtney took one look at me, sighed and said, "Well, looks like Paul had to tell you twice." LOL, that was really funny to me. Anyway, I was self conscious of it all durn day and it itched like a MF'er. By day's end it had started turning purple so then it really looked like I had been beat. Today it's swollen still and so red/purple it's just embarrassing. But the icing on the cake today is

I've lost my voice again.

The Diva has spoken at 4:34 PM CST
Updated: Monday, December 6, 2004 3:30 PM CST
Thursday, December 2, 2004
Happy Ramachanakwanzmas - and don't forget Festivus!
Mood:  silly
Topic: Rambling much
I led my very first "official" Brownie meeting tonight! Okay, so it was my daughter, my niece and two other girls and all we did was make hot cocoa mix, but it was our first OFFICIAL meeting! We said the Girl Scout Promise and sang our adorable little prayer (from the Disney cartoon "Johhny Appleseed" - it's cute and the girls can remember it easily), we talked about our Winter Survival Kits and made our hot cocoa mix. I made the girls wash their germy little kid hands before started, then we got on the subject of germs and what color they are and I guess it kinda freaked Riley out because that poor child washed her hands about 10 times before we finished. She wanted to wash them more, but I finally told her that she wasn't going to have any more skin on her hands and boy howdy, would that let the germs in. She quit.

We planned our Christmas Caroling spree and now I have to call one of the assisted living places around here to see if we can deliver our Survival Kits to some of their residents. We opted out on the nursing home simply because some of these girls are pretty little and we were afraid that some of the more serious cases at a nursing home might upset them a little. We're trying to teach compassion and love for our fellow man, but we also don't want to cause anxiety for the girls. It's a tough call to make - how much to expose them to and at what age and you also have to factor in the girls' maturity levels, etc. But the place I have in mind is a really nice place and all residents are ambulatory and the staff is just wonderful. I think it'll be a good thing.

I spent all day Wednesday at the school in Santa's workshop with Sis. Wow. I remember now exactly why I opted out on a teaching degree. How do those elementary school teachers DO it? They're obnoxious, they're hyper (especially this time of year), they're self-centered - and I am talking about the kids here. Of course, this could also apply to some of the teachers, too... Anyway, I really did have a good time, but considering I had to take my two preschool wards along for the day, the day wore pretty long. Chandler ended up falling asleep under one of the tables and of all days to forget my camera. It was precious. I took a bag of crayons, paper and little coloring books to occupy them and as an afterthought threw in a bag of pipe cleaners as well. If you ever want to entertain a 2, 3 and 5 year old for about 30 minutes, give them pipe cleaners. At first they just poked themselves with them and waved them around in the air threatening to poke each other. Then I made a giraffe. And a pig. And then the twisting and contorting of the pipe cleaners began. Well, in Santa's Workshop we don't have a Christmas tree - we have a Ficus. So the kids decorated the Ficus tree with pipe cleaners. Then Heather and I got bored so we started twisting some of them around pencils and made curly, spirally, twisty things to hang on the Ficus.

Courtney, The World's Best Kindergarten Teacher and also our cousin, brought in her class and while the kids shopped we talked. And she commented on the Ficus and it's clever decorations. Then it was like she and I shared a light bulb and we both said "FESTIVUS!! It's a Festivus Ficus!" If you don't know what Festivus is, shame on you, you Seinfeld hater you. So then our collective minds started plotting and planning and decided that our Cousin Party would be a Festivus Celebration.

***A little history here: When we were teenagers we got new cousins. Their names were Courtney and Benn. They were cool. I was about 17 or 18 when we got Courtney and Benn, (and a new aunt, but she's not involved in this story) Sis and Benn were 15, Courtney was 13 or so. Now this made us a happy little band of cousins. What made us even more close-knit was the fact that Courtney full-time and Benn sometimes, and our "old" cousin, Keith, sometimes lived next door to us. (Ah, don't you just love dysfunctionality? Is dysfunctionality a word?) I had a car. I was therefore the most popular cousin. I don't know how we did it, but we fit Sis, Keith, Benn, Courtney and myself into my 86 Cavalier and we would have "Cousinly Bonding" every weekend. Sometimes we could go to a park and hang out - the guys would play ball, we'd toss a frisbee around, or we'd read books and talk. Sometimes we got together at one house or the other and played board games. Once we got thirsty while we were driving all over town (back in the days when gas was like $1.02 a gallon) we scraped and dug until we got enough pennies to buy 5 Vess pops at a convenience store. We paid for them entirely in pennies. And they weren't rolled either. As we grew up, of course, we quit having our Cousinly Bondings, but we all remember them fondly.***

Well, this year we decided to have a Cousinly Bonding Revisited Party. Benn will be in from NYC and what better reason to have a party. Although, rumor has it he won't show. Annnnnnnyway, we're forging ahead with our plans, involving spouses this time. And liquor. And FESTIVUS! And we all have to hand-make a gift and we'll exchange them at the party. I cannot wait to see what everyone brings. Rest assured the entire celebration will be blog-worthy. Now to get a Ficus in my house by then...

I had another one of my tornado dreams last night. I've had them since I was a child. Dream analysts say that tornadoes in dreams represent turmoil in ones life. I have had turmoil in my life for as long as I can remember then. Honestly, some of my first dreams that I can remember have had tornadoes in them. Here's the weird part - I am never scared in them. And no one is hurt. I see the tornado(s) coming at us, I know they are going to devastate our surroundings, but I am amazingly calm and my role in the dream is to gather and organize and make sure everyone is safe. Usually there is more than just one tornado coming at me/us and they're always really big and I can see how they are ripping things apart in their path. But we are never hurt. I've had one of these dreams that was scary and only one. It involved my children and I don't like to think about that particular one. And another weird thing - the last few I've had have taken place in the same area. Not necessarily the same house, but the community and surrounding area is the same. I could draw you a picture right now (with the help of a police sketch artist because I can't draw, lol) the details are so vivid in my mind. I don't ever remember actually visiting this place in my life, but it feels familiar and "home". I dunno. Wanna know what brought on last night's tornado dream? Nick and Jessica's Christmas Special. Damn you, Nick Lachey and Jessica Simpson.

This elf has signed on for another day in the Workshop tomorrow. Blessed be, though - I don't have Chandler tomorrow. Oh I love the kid and all, but this was his mom's early week at work and my alarm went off at 5:30 every day. Well, except for today. I woke up today when the dog barked when they drove up. Oops. Tomorrow I don't have to get up till 6:45! 6:45 people! I'll be so damn rested I won't know how to handle myself.

Agh, I really have to go now...husband has turned off the TV and is sitting in his recliner pouting that the computer is bothering him. Big baby.

The Diva has spoken at 11:16 PM CST
Updated: Monday, December 6, 2004 3:29 PM CST

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