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The Ramblings of a Redneck Diva
Saturday, January 22, 2005
I hope to one day feel my toes again
Mood:  chillin'
Topic: Rambling much
It's so cold that I haven't felt my toes since I went to bed last night. And then just now when I was unloading the dishwasher, I jerked out the top rack and, unbeknownst to me, there was a cup turned up, full of water. The jerking slung hot water halfway across my kitchen and up onto my leg and onto my slipper. Man, it felt good for awhile. That while has passed.

I got a paper shredder for Christmas. Now, we burn our trash, so I wasn't really too concerned about identity theft from my discarded junkmail, but still thought the paper shredder was way cool. Today I discovered a super awesome use for the strips of shredded paper. They make WONDERFUL fire starters!! Throw in a wadded up bunch of shredded paper, toss on some logs, stuff wadded up shredded paper all around the logs and set it ablaze. The kids wanted to make pillows with the shredded strips of paper, but I said, "Back off, ya thugs! That's MY shredded paper!"

Why would they want to make pillows with strips of shredded paper? You would get NO sleep what with the crunching. Those kids just do not think ahead.

Tonight we are having a cousin party at my house. Man, I am so excited. We are all anticipating it with much fervor and delight. That sounded very regal, didn't it? That's me, regal.

Our cousin, Stacey, is in from North Carolina. She and I WE SWEAR are twins or at least hmmm...cousins? Too many things we do alike. It's got us both a tad freaked. Yesterday she was going to give me her cell phone number. I didn't have any paper, so I grabbed my checkbook. Know that itty bitty border all around the calendars on the back of the register? That is seriously valuable note-writing space, people! As soon as I grabbed my checkbook and poised my pen over the itty bitty border Stacey said "OH MY GOSH! You do that too?" She's the only other person I know that uses that valuable space for note-writing. Unless y'all are just closet itty bitty space on the checkbook note writers.

Yesterday was my birthday ya know. I'm all of 32 now. Yeah, whoo hoo. Paul, Sis, Bub and I all went out to make the birthday rounds at the casinos for my $75 free birthday money. I got $10 at the first place, played for 30 minutes and walked out with $10.04. Already I was .04 up. What would the rest of the evening behold, I wondered. At the second place I got $20 and walked out with $15 more. Next place, I walked out with $39 more. At the next place I walked out with $7.55 more. At the next place, the Unhappiest Casino in the World, I blew it all quickly because the vibes were bad in that place. Then we finished the evening at the Big Fancy Casino, where I got $10, played on it awhile, put in a $5 of my own money, got it up to $15, cashed that out and then put in another $5, lost it. There was more gambling after that, but I was tired and kept trying to keep accurate account records at that point. All told, when I walked into my house last night and emptied my pockets I had $61 and about $2 in change. Not too bad considering I only put $2 of my own not free money in the machines all night.

But the best part of the birthday was when Courtney called to tell me that SHE GOT US FOURTH ROW CENTER TICKETS TO THE TRACE ADKINS CONCERT AT THE BIG FANCY CASINO IN FEBRUARY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm excited, if you can't tell by the gratuitous overuse of exclamation points. I figured I'd used my birthday winnings to pay her, but Paul said that since he hadn't gotten my present yet, and IF I was okay with him not getting me the DVD of Napoleon Dynamite, he would buy the tickets. Total score!

Of course, now he's mad at me for speaking to a man who was sitting at a machine next to me whilst gambling last night. Glad he offered to pay for the tickets before that happened. I asked him this morning just how long his jealous self planned on not speaking to me and he said, "Eh, probably a month, if not two." He sounded like he meant it. Hey, he doesn't have to talk to me as long as he pays for those tickets.

The Diva has spoken at 2:57 PM CST
Monday, January 17, 2005
It's a holiday?
Mood:  quizzical
Topic: Rambling much
Paul just called me from a payphone in town. The banks are closed today for, as Ab calls it, "Martin Luther King J. R. Day". Man, I was gonna be a day early on this month's loan payment! I thought I'd just wow 'em right off the bat in 2005 since I'm usually a week late, lol. Now I'll just be on time. Oh well, I guess that's still better than late.

Speaking of being late, at 8:15 this morning I got the nicest collection call I've ever received! In the fall I got turned over to collections on a doctor bill. Upon receiving the letter I immediately called them and worked out a payment plan, seeing as how I can't just pull $150 out of my ass. That crazy collection agent, Beth, was totally okay with my $25 a month offering and boy, for two whole months my payment was on time. Then the holidays hit and they weren't so on time anymore. It wasn't that I didn't have the money, I was just really busy. I pay very few bills through the mail and it just kept slipping my mind. So for two months that Beth had to call me to get the payment. I made the payments with her right then and there on the phone and wished her happy holidays. She's really pretty nice, that Beth. So this morning my phone rings at 8:15. I was straightening my hair, so I threw down the iron and ran up front only to pick it up after the machine started playing the message. I pick it up and say hello only to be greeted in return with "BWAH HAHAHAAAHHHAHA!!" I thought, wow, someone's feelin' awful happy on a Monday. Well, whaddaya know, it was my collecting friend, that Beth, and she was most humored by my answering machine. So after we chatted a bit she said, "Well, Kristin, you probably know why I'm calling - you forgot to mail your payment again, huh?" So I apologized all over myself - yet again - and made the payment - yet again - right there on the phone. Then she said, "Hey, you just want me to call you again in February?" What a friend, that Beth.

And now I'm sitting here thinking that I shouldn't have acted so offended when my mother offered to pay for me to take a 13-week financial management course starting in February.

The Diva has spoken at 2:55 PM CST
I'm not an elf. I don't live in a tree. But I made cookies!
Mood:  energetic
Topic: Rambling much
I made no-bake cookies first. Then moved on to oatmeal raisin using my Memaw's recipe. I have part of the batter for chocolate chip cookies in a mixing bowl, except for the flour. I'm out of flour. See what all that baking will do? It'll run ya outta flour, dadgummit! I know I have a bag in one of the freezers, but there's so much other stuff piled on top that I can't get to it. It's a two-person job and I'm waiting for Paul to get back so I can finish the baking. I made (or was going to make) the chocolate chip ones for the kids since they won't touch the other two kinds. That's okay - Paul will eat all the no-bakes and I will eat the oatmeal raisins. Man, when I took the first bite of a warm, fresh outta the oven oatmeal raisin cookie I was magically transported back to my Papa and Memaw's kitchen on the farm! Honestly, it was such a strong feeling of nostalgia! Memaw made the best oatmeal raisin cookies and it was even better to get them out of her puppy in a basket cookie jar. Heather has that cookie jar now and says it still smells like oatmeal raisin cookies. Memaw's been gone for nearly 12 years now and it was many years before that the last time she made cookies. When these cookies are gone I may have to go down and sniff the cookie jar...

Paul's out running errands for me today. He really only intended on going to pick up some money he was owed from that remodelling job (so that he can buy my birthday present!!!) and to pick up his drill from Husband #2, but when he said he was going to town I was like "Cool! You can pay the loan payment, drop off the water bill, pick up the rent check from GG and make a deposit at the bank!" I know he was just wishing he'd slipped out the door without telling me. As he was leaving he said
He: (sullenly) Well, I guess I'll go. I'll be back some time around Easter now...
Me: Hey, I appreciate you being my errand bitch today, you know that!
He: Yeah...whatever.
Me: Well at least you aren't dragging two preschoolers around with you! Hmmm...hey you wanna-
He: (slams door)

Tonight's Ladies' Night once again! Did I mention my theory on winning for this week's $500 drawing? Okay, if I did sorry, just skip this part. If I didn't, here ya go, it's really good. A few weeks ago Mom's friend, Angie, won the $500. It was the Monday before her birthday. This is the Monday before my birthday. I am SO going to win tonight! AND next Monday is the Monday before Mom's birthday! Now, yes, I realize that the chances of this actually happening are pretty slim to none, but a girl can dream. Let me dream, dammit! Don't. Take. Away. The. Dreams.

I also have a Girl Scout Service Unit meeting tonight. I'm making Heather go with me. I still don't know these ladies that well. I know, I'm a wuss. She's a co-leader, so it's not like I'm just dragging her because I'm that wimpy. She really has a reason to be there as well.

The Diva has spoken at 2:35 PM CST
Sunday, January 16, 2005
24 hours ago I was asleep
Mood:  spacey
Topic: Rambling much
Last Wednesday night I fell asleep at 8:30, not even making it through Alias. THAT is a big thing. I NEVER miss Alias. I will fore-go family functions in order to see Alias. If Alias were on a Monday night, I would miss Ladies' Night at the Big Fancy Casino. That's how much I love Alias. Okay, so anyway, I was so exhausted that I fell asleep at 8:30 that night. Last night, I fell asleep watching a thing on the Travel Channel about the Mysteries of Route 66 (seeing as how I live on the Route and all I wanted to see what mysteries it beheld. Bleh, it wasn't a very good show.) It was about 8:30 when I dozed off. I was in that sleep that is relaxing, but you're not all the way asleep, you still hear what's going on around you, sort of. Well, I heard Paul flip down the foot thing on the recliner and start turning off lights. I managed to get up off the couch, came out here and turned off my computer, took off my bra and laid back down on the couch. It was warm and there was no way I was going back to that coldass bedroom. I just happened to look up at the clock before I took my glasses off and it said 9:20. My whole entire household was in bed before 9:30 last night! I guess we were some tired rednecks. Of course, two out of the five of us are battling colds and one is battling an asthma flare-up. Sickness is tiring I guess.

I have discovered that I am easily programmable. I have developed a Pavlovian response to the sound of my washing machine draining. No matter what I am doing or where I am in the house the sound of the drain sends me automatically running to the utility room to stand on my tiptoes (because I'm short) to where I can see over the back of the washer to the drain. Then I stand there until I see water run up to the edge of the drain hole, hit the button to turn the washer off and then go about my merry business for about a minute. I usually don't get too far, obviously. Then it's back to the washer to hit the button, stand there long enough to make sure it doesn't overflow again and then it's back to business as usual. Until I hear it draining again. This is the life I lead, folks. It ain't glamorous, but it's mine.

It glittered here today! Sis called because Addison had a bad earache and she knew I had an entire pediatric pharmacy in my kitchen cabinet and I would have a concoction that would help. She asked if I had looked outside.
Me: Yeah, it's sunny! Finally!
Sis: Hmm, it's glittering here.
Me: Glittering? Did some fairies visit you?
Sis: Just go look outside!

And sure enough, it was glittering! It was too cold to snow so what was coming down were dry ice crystals that sparkled and glittered like well, glitter!

Just watched the local weather. Supposed to be 51 on my birthday. And no snow or rain! Once I became an adult God evidently decided I'd had enough of the rainy/snowy/dreary birthdays and for years now they've been downright nice days. I look at it as His blessing for the casino runs we make because everyone around here knows that birthdays mean FREE PLAY. Alright, so maybe God's not actually blessing the casino runs...

Tonight at the dinner table Ab said "OOh Mom! Just 5 more days till your birthday!" I glared at her and stuck out my tongue. Paul laughed. She said, "What? Aren't you excited about your birthday??" like it was a deadly sin to not be ecstatic about it. I explained that when you get to be my age the only thing a birthday does is remind you how old you are. Sam said, "Well, at least you can gamble for free!" He worries me with how much he knows about indian gaming.

I just spell-checked this post. For "Bleh" it gave the suggestion of "Bl eh". Alllrighty, then. Someone wanna tell me what a bl eh is?

The Diva has spoken at 10:47 PM CST
Saturday, January 15, 2005
Mood:  lazy
Topic: Rambling much
Paul and I went to sleep around 3:30 this morning. He got up 20 minutes before he was supposed to actually be at work this morning. Therefore, building the fire he had let go out during the night was not high up on the list this morning. When I finally was sick and tired of hearing my early-rising children ask me repeatedly for food, I got up to a frigid house, no fire and no wood even in the house. Grrrrrrr. If the wood is dry as a popcorn fart and I have newspaper and, sometimes it takes, starter logs, I can build a fire. It's a smokey ordeal, I cuss a lot and have been known to just give up and turn up the central heat. But today, I found some dry bark on the dead wood pile and used it to build a rather toasty fire in a hurry. It's been burning an hour now and I figured it was about time to add some green wood. I just went out to the wood pile, which is right outside our back door, and got a couple of logs, threw them on the fire then went back out to get more for the wood box. I hate running outside in my pj's when it's 15 degrees outside, so I figured I'd just bring in a bunch at once. EXCEPT all of the wood is frozen together. I guess the two logs I brought in first were the only ones dislodged from the mess! The wood he stacked this week was some that had been down awhile and with all the rain we've had, was pretty wet. Obviously. Now I'm going to have to actually get dressed in order to spend the amount of time outside that it's going to take to break all the wood apart. Dadgummit!


Last night we taped our audition tape for The Biggest Loser. It was fun, if nothing else. If we don't get on the show, or even make it to an interview, we at least had fun with Courtney during the taping. She wrote us a song! I don't think she's got a copyright on it, so I'll give ya the words:

(Sung to the tune of "Summer Love" from the Grease soundtrack)

I ate some donuts, I ate some cake.
How much junk food can my body take?
I saw a show on the TV.
I think it can help you and me.

Overweight mommies and sisters, too, but oh there's something we can do.

Well-uh, well-uh, well-uh....yadda yadda, ad nauseum

Tell me more tell me more - How do we get on the show?
Tell me more tell me more - We could even win dough!

Biggest Loser, just wait and see...we'll lose the weight you and meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Oh my gosh, yes it's corny. But it's HILARIOUS and we really feel like it's eye-catching. They are looking for personality and we both have that for sure.

The tape then cuts to Sis talking about why she wants to go on the show. She almost made me cry! She's so very sincere and heartfelt. Mine was, of course, funny-ish. They said I got real quiet and almost slipped into talking like my mother (The thought!), but it was still touching and of course humorous at the end. Then after that, the tape cuts to us both holding up a picture of all 5 kids and we say how they are our reasons for wanting to do this, Sis says we want to be around to see them grow up, want to be there to watch them walk down the aisle and I cut in with "Hey, we just want to be able to FIT down the aisle!" Note: We are both quite able to fit down the aisle of a church. It was humor, that's all folks. If we get too big to fit down the aisles of the church, well...that's just not gonna happen dammit.


When we were done filming, we asked Paul if he minded me going to the casino with them. He said he didn't care, but in the back of my mind, I thought I was going to pay for it somehow. I just assumed that he would go to bed, seeing as how he had to get up at 5:30. I should never assume when it has to deal with my husband. While we were at the casino, Heather got a call telling her the Melissa's sister's water had broke and they were at the hospital. So when we left the casino at 12:45am we dropped off Courtney and went up to the hospital. Upon reentering the car I discovered that Paul had called. I called him back and he was pissed. After telling me that I was never going out again, like my father would've done, then telling me he couldn't sleep (which was strange) and to get home, I hung up the phone and silently loathed him for being such a prick. When I got home I took off my makeup and tried as quietly as I could to get into bed without waking him up. He was snoring and I thought 1) Yay he was finally able to go to sleep and 2) Yay he's asleep and hopefully won't yell at me some more. I slipped into the bed and tried to not breathe very hard. I felt myself slipping off, relaxing and then out of the blue he goes "Our f**king house is haunted." AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I nearly jumped outta the bed! Not at the declaration of hauntedness, but at his voice.

So I asked him why he thought the house was haunted, trying to stifle a giggle. But the tone of his voice as he described it quickly told me that he really wasn't kidding. He said the dresser pulls had been clacking against the dresser. I laid there in the quiet, listening for the ghost who quite possibly had an underwear fetish or maybe he was just cold out there in the drafty next life and wanted a sweater. I heard nothing. Finally I said, "Paul, maybe you dreamed it." He goes "No! It just takes awhile. It'll happen again, I'm sure of it!" So more listening. By this time it's 2:30am. I feel myself drifting off again. I was so tired that a freaking poltergeist would've had to have picked me up, thrown me across the room and slapped me with a dead pickerel to have kept me awake right then. Ahhh, blissfull sleep...then again, out of the blue, "I'm horny." AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I will kill that man one day, I'm sure of it.

I asked him later (after the sex, because you know if they're awake and horny and 2:30am and you are awake and incredibly tired, it's just easier to give in so they'll leave you the hell alone) "Did the sound go something like this?" and I mimicked the sound. He wheeled around and said "YES!! You heard it, too??" I said, "Uhh, nnnnnno.... Dear, that is either a rattly window or something in the eaves that clacks when the wind blows. It's done it since we moved in 4 years ago. Now can I go to sleep?" He mumbled something about how it seemed funny that he'd never heard that noise before and he'd lived here four years just like the rest of us... and I felt myself drifting off once more.

Out of the blue --
He: What. the. f**k. is. THAT. noise???"
Me: You big baby, it's a train. I will murder you if you wake me up again.
He: ...
Me: And no, we are not having sex again.

The Diva has spoken at 11:20 AM CST
Friday, January 14, 2005
Coffee is so awesome
Mood:  caffeinated
Topic: Rambling much
I am drinking my second cup of Coffee Squared this morning and I'm feelin' pretty damn good. Coffee Squared is what I call my own personal concoction of coffee with 4 heaping teaspoons of English Toffee instant cappuccino mixed in. Twice the caffeine, baby!'s strong and it's sweet and it's hot and it's everything I ever wanted in a cup of coffee and a man. *grin* Try it - your head will spin, you'll feel your heartrate increase and the world will amazingly right itself before your very eyes.

Well, tonight's the night. Oh! I don't think I've actually told y'all yet. *looks back through recent posts...* Nope, haven't told y'all. Sis and I are auditioning for The Biggest Loser! Yep, we're doing it. Now, I realize that y'all are sittin' there thinkin' "Just how FAT are they anyway?!?" Well, we're fat. Plain and simple. Any fat is too fat, right? I dunno, being a fat person myself, the jury's still out on that one, lol. Okay, so anyway, when the finale was over the other night and Caroline Rhea announced that they are still taking applications and they are specifically looking for families, well my little brain went squeaking into motion. Paul, who has kind of laughed through the whole season when I have casually mentioned that I want to do it, said "Well, there ya go. There's your web address. You know you want to, so go for it." No sooner had those words come from his mouth than the phone rang. I sat straight up on the couch (because I was lying flat on my back, eating Cheetos while watching a show about fat people losing weight) and said "That's Heather and she's going to ask if I want to go on the show with her." He got this weird look on his face and trepiditiously picked up the phone, almost as if he half expected the dead people in my computer to begin speaking through the phone.

He doesn't understand the psychic bond we have, my sister and I. Don't laugh - we do! We will suddenly burst into song together - at the same spot in the song and once or twice have even done it in perfect harmony. We finish each other's sentences. Like day before yesterday we were in the van, talking about something. The conversation kind of dropped off, both of us in our little thought-world then she goes "Well, that I wanna know is-" and I said, "Yeah me too!" and the actual thing we both wanted to know was never actually spoken, yet we knew what the other was thinking and continued the conversation. We are freaky like that.

So it was no surprise to me when he said Hello and heard my sister yell frantically "Let me talk to your wife!" And he goes "Uhhh, I think I already know what you want to ask her," and handed me the phone.

So my darling sister came up with our fantastic audition ideas and we've asked Cousin Courtney to produce and direct it because you know she IS the Small Town Starlet after all and she has amazing ideas when it comes to marketing and stuff like that. She said our ideas were great, but in the video we MUST have something in there about the fact that I entertain like a crazy woman and what a fabulous cook I am and all the while she's saying these pretty words, my ego is swelling to gigantic proportions that would rival the gigantic proportions of my ass. So we decided that tonight is the night. After the boys finish karate, we are taking the kids to Mom's and then the production will begin. We're hoping to just wow the hell out of 'em and make them remember our fat selves. I mean, after all, that's what we want, right?

I'm sure that in my life I've been known for my fat-ness. Like when people say "She's so pretty, if she'd just lose that weight" and "You know who she is - that well, bigger girl with the loud braying donkey laugh? Yeah, that's her!" but this time in my life I actually want people, mainly the exec's at Go Faster Productions, to remember me for my voluptuous curves and all that. (If I hadn't had so much coffee this morning my mind would probably be able to think of more synonyms and analogies, but as it is, I can't do much more than type and bounce my leg and pray spell check picks up the many, many errors coming from my flying fingers.)

Sis and I filled out our applications together last night. One question was "What's the most outrageous thing you've ever done?" We were both completely stumped on that one. We were both sadly thinking that we have got to be two of the most boring people in the world and neither of us could come up with a thing. So we skipped that question and went to "How competitive are you?" Well, I am only competitive in certain instances and for the most part, am pretty spineless. So I was torn as to how to answer the question. I hollered into the living room to Paul, asking him how competitive I am. He said, "Well, how competitive were you during the Demolition Derby?" And Sis and I were both like "THE DEMOLITION DERBY!!!!" We finally had my outrageous moment. And my answer to the competitive question. I am pretty competitive when I want to be - and I SO want to be concerning this show.

When we finished the applications, we swapped and read each other's. My sister is so amazing. She's so inspring and focused and well, she's strong even though she'd never describe herself as that. I was touched by her answers. She will wow them with her sincerity. I finished and sat and watched her finish reading mine. She sat back and said, "Man, yours is FUNNY! Why can't Ibe funny? They're going to take one look at our applications and they're going to say 'We want the funny one, but that droll sister has got to go!'" I assured her that no one would find her droll and that they were going to find us the most perfectly complimenting couple of sisters that will fit the spot needed in their show. Here's hoping anyway.

The Diva has spoken at 9:39 AM CST
Monday, January 10, 2005
Today's flaunted food is...
Mood:  hungry
Topic: Rambling much
... a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup. Two of them actually. Just thought I'd let you know.

It's Ladies' Night at the Big Fancy Casino! I'm feelin' lucky, punk. I am. We shall see.

I got up at 4:30 this morning. That sucked big time. I was nearly to the city of Tulsa before the sun came up. I like driving in the early morning like that, before the sun comes up. Don't know why really, I just do. I listened to my Maroon5 CD all the way to Tulsa and that was a definitely good thing. When we left the dentist's office I grabbed the case for John Mayer's Heavier Things, but silly me, I had left the actual CD in the kitchen CD player and had brought only the case. If I hadn't been driving I could've stared wistfully at him, but since I had to play Responsible Parent, I decided against that. I put in a CD of praise and worship songs and proceded to sing my little heart out. That lasted about 20 minutes and then Ab said, "Uh, Mom...can we listen to something ELSE puh-lease?" Don't know what her problem was - I was praisin' and worshippin'! I put in Rascal Flatts and we listened to them the rest of the way home. My morning was filled with music by a bunch of hot awesome guys and songs about an awesome Guy. Not to say God's not hot, but somehow I kinda feel weird sayin' God might be hot. ooh. Anyway...

Chandler crapped his pants this morning. AGH! He hasn't done that here in a LONG time, probably because the poor little guy just doesn't want to hear me retching and grumbling when I have to clean him up. Ough. 3 year old poop is entirely too close to adult poop and I just can't handle that. Poor guy. He felt really bad. When he gets up from his nap we're going to put on Big Boys. He seemed pretty excited about them earlier. We talked about how cool it was to wear them (Not that I've ever worn Big Boys - I am strictly a Big Girl wearer myself) while they ate lunch and he was ten kinds of excited. Then he crapped his pants and had to listen to me retch. I hope I didn't spoil the excitement for him.

Paul's splitting wood as I type. I offered to help, but he is really just not wanting me to help stack it! I do not understand him. Well, I guess I kinda do. I'm very particular about how things are done with my tasks and chores. There is a certain way that our washcloths must be folded and socks are numbered in my house. Yes, I number our socks. Yes, I realize I am weird. Anyway, I don't let him help with certain things around the house because he just doesn't understand how I want them done. So maybe he feels the same way about his wood stacking chore. Although, I'm not really sure I believe that. He slopasses everything he does, including the wood stacking. Maybe I'm an amateur and don't see the artistry of his wood stacking and that's why it always looks slopassed. Or maybe he doesn't want me to help because, as with the inside chores, I feel there is a certain way to do things. The last time we stacked wood I had all of the smaller logs near the door, mid-sized ones in the middle and the freaking giant Sequoyah trunks at the far end. I guess this didn't set well with the slopass, I mean artist.

I'm horny today. Yep, go ahead and stick that in the TMI file - I'll wait. There is a point though, as there sometimes is here in The Ramblings. I felt compelled to comment on this anomaly because it's so darn rare! My hormones are so off kilter that I haven't been randy since like 1995 or so. Okay, that might be a slight exaggeration, but only slight. This is kinda nice. Hmmm...

How funny that just as I was deciding on my next paragraph, that Derek felt compelled to comment on my post about the dead talking through my computer. I wholeheartedly agree with him, though. He said

"heh...Isn't the power of suggestion funny?

especially when it pertains to ghosts and such. Spooky.


(I liked the "boo" at the end, btw, Derek.)

Our minds do play powerful tricks on us. Our brains are easily tricked. Not to say I didn't hear something last night from my computer, but was it the dead talking? I don't know. Could've been an power surge, although I have a pretty hefty amount of surge protection behind there. Could've been any number of electronic impulses and noises that I've heard time and time again, but never paid attention to them. And it could've been dead Uncle Marmaduke trying to tell me where he hid his millions. In which case, Uncle Marmaduke, if you can read this while you're lurking around my computer, speak clearly and enunciate a little better next time, willya? You're abilites in communicating with the living need a little honing there, dude.

The Diva has spoken at 3:07 PM CST
Sunday, January 9, 2005
Okay, now the dead people are taking over the computer, methinks
Mood:  surprised
Topic: Rambling much
I'm a tad freaked out at this particular moment. My computer is talking to me.

Yes, I said my computer is talking to me.

The volume is up loud enough that if there were a noise coming from a webpage I'd hear it and know what it was. Far as I know the previous two pages I was just on do not have sound effects, seeing as how one was the blog builder and the other was Dooce and if she's added sound effects, well, way to go Dooce for freakin' me out.

I'm not frightened, by any means. Just a tad freaked.

I just called Paul out here and he thinks I'm certifiable now. Great. It took me saying "my computer is talking" to send him right on over into thinking his wife is a kook. He said the stereo was on. It's not. He said the freezer is running. Okay, it's running, but I can hear it and it's not that. He stuck his head up to the speaker and I told him that it's not coming from the speaker, it's coming from the computer itself.

He walked away, shaking his head and scratching his butt, mumbling that he's never letting me see another scary movie again. See if I share with him again when the dead start talking to me through my computer.

The Diva has spoken at 9:45 PM CST
Thursday, January 6, 2005
No school cancellation, no cakey village, no fun at all
Mood:  hug me
Topic: Rambling much
I was just SURE they'd cancel school today! I got up at 5:30 with the husband just so I could see the school cancellations and then promptly go back to bed. No such dang luck. Only those durn Kansans with their 3/4" of ice all over everything merited a day off of school, probably building cool villages with their Strawberry Shortcakes. The bastards.

I asked Paul to call me when he got to work for two reasons. Firstly, so I'd know he made it safely. Secondly, so he could report road conditions. No call. When he came home tonight I knew he'd made it to work this morning safely. I found out the road conditions on my own. I told him that I found it rather rude that he didn't call. He looked at me blankly and said, "Oh, you were serious?"

I cancelled the Tulsa trip right after my mother told me about a woman and her four children who were killed due to the ice/snow in Tulsa yesterday. I have GOT to quit listening to the gloom and doom! It's not good for me. Makes me shake and think about things I don't like thinking about. I did, however, take Sam to the eye doctor in town.

The dr checked him out and said his eyes were fine. I said, "Well, do you have any clue as to why all of the sudden he would start reversing letters and squinting then?" He then proceded to unload his opinion of the crappy school systems and how that a boy of 6 should be making mud pies and playing (He actually said it with emphasis) and we should not be trying to make him a computer genius. Yikes. I was just worried about his eyes, dude. I really do like the guy. Guess he was having an off day. We waited nearly an hour so maybe he was stressed a bit.

By the time we got out of there the kids had missed their lunch times at school so well, geez, the Sonic was callin' my name. Good thing I wasn't dieting because the coney and fries I ate would've blown it all to hell. The kids said I was cool for letting them eat at Sonic on a school day.

The afternoon was filled with me cleaning and getting things ready for Brownies. Today was our unofficial and very fun cookie training. We did flash cards with all the different cookies on them and the girls loved learning the names. We role-played selling cookies and oh my gosh, if you ever want to make 4 little girls giggle uncontrollably, introduce yourself to them as "Suzy Cutepants" or "Ethel Snotbottom". It'll get 'em every time. At least it did my troop on this particular day.

And I must state, for the record, my life is now complete once again now that Alias is back on. I was in a state of reverie for 2 hours last night. Getting up to pee during a commercial was a struggle because I was afraid I'd lose that euphoric feeling I was getting from just being in the same room where it had been playing. I was lost a few times because I actually missed the season finale, but they really did a good job filling in the blanks for us losers who needed a clue. Sydney Bristow kicks ass.

Well, it's cold and I'm tired. My husband is just out of the shower and he's all warm and smelly-good and if I hurry I can take advantage of the steamy warmth under the covers before he farts or does something else to ruin it.

The Diva has spoken at 11:34 PM CST
Wednesday, January 5, 2005
It's raining, it's icing, the old man is going to break his hip if he tries to walk on that shit
Mood:  cheeky
Topic: Rambling much
Well, no trip to Tahlequah today. I got up at 5:30, after 30 minutes of snoozing which I hear Chaddy hates, lol. And immediately got in the shower, in desperate need of serious waking up. I nearly steamed the paint off the walls. The house was cold, the water was hot and it was a good thing, that shower. So after I got dressed I went up front to check the weather. Ol' Lucas McDiva on KSN (I still get KSN because we use an aerial antenna and not overpriced cable) was telling us how bad it was and was going to be and no one should venture too far. That Lucas, he tends to be a tad dramatic. I woke Paul, who was snoring soundly on the couch, and tried to get an opinion out of him regarding our impending trip. Nothing but a snorky kind of grunt followed by a curse word. So much for that. So what do I do when I need advice - call Momma!!! She and I talked it through, she even offered to stay home with KD rather than have us drag her out in the crappy weather. I was still leaning toward going until the conversation steered toward the elderly couple whose car was washed from their driveway as they were leaving for a doctor's appointment and their bodies have yet to be found. Water is a huge fear of mine. The mere thought of water over my head can throw me into a full-fledged panic attack and I am not kidding. I nearly had one this morning talking to Mom about those poor folks because then, being a mom myself, my sick thoughts went over to the bad place and I could just envision trying to unbuckle KD from her carseat....okay, gotta stop this line of thinking right now. Anyway, I decided right then and there that there was no way this Hoover was going on a roadtrip. End of subject. I stopped trying to wake up the husband, I got the big kids ready for school (Because the roads here were not flooded. It was the roads elsewhere that I wasn't sure about. Trust me when I say I'd have NEVER put them on a bus if the roads had been flooded here.) and took them to the bus. Then I went back to the house, fixed KD a cup of milk, opened a Nutri Grain bar for her and settled into the recliner. What a good child I have! She 'nuggled with me for awhile, then brought some dishes into the living room and cooked some pink and blue cookies for me, some coffee - or "cossee" as she says - and I would open my eyes long enough to take a pretend bite or sip then close them again and doze. I am not a bad mom, I was just a very tired one this morning.

We went into town around noon, got a few groceries and came back home, listening to the ice pelt the windshield. I was glad we weren't driving home from Tahlequah then. All in all, it was a good day. Dozed the entire morning, my stuff arrived today, blogged a little this evening, and now I'm going to watch an all new episode of Lost and THEN THE SEASON PREMIERE OF ALIAS!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Diva has spoken at 6:59 PM CST
Tuesday, January 4, 2005
Mood:  down
Topic: Rambling much
It's rainy, yucky, thundery, gloomy, coldy, bleh-y. Love winter in Oklahoma. (Careful - last sentence dripping with sarcasm. Watch out.) We aren't lucky enough to get snow like that Better Living guy brags about so often. We get rain. And sometimes a "wintry mix" which sounds utterly delightful, but is nothing more than vertically falling slush from the grey skies above.

I can remember when I was a kid getting a plethora of snow. Or maybe it wasn't really that much, but when you're only 4 feet tall it seems like a lot. I dunno. Until I was an adult it either rained or snowed on my birthday every year. One year I was completely snowed in on my birthday. Mom had worked so hard making 30 or so Big Bird iced cookies (I'm telling you, she worked HARD on those things! They were decorated with real decorator icing and the bird had icing feathers. Feathers!)and it was all for naught. No school party. No family party that night. But Mom was so cool that she fixed me up a spot next to the sliding glass door so I could watch it snow and then she gave me a birthday present every hour on the hour. I sat next to that glass door all day, next to the over a foot of snow piled up on the glass, playing blissfully with all the new Strawberry Shortcakes I was receiving hourly. I think I was 9. I had quite a confectionary village set up, with the enormous Strawberry Trolley, a cardboard box for the mountains and during the day the adorable, sweet and always polite Shortcake crew foiled the always-horrible plots of Sour Grapes and her icky snake, Dregs, and the Peculiar Purple Pieman of Porcupine Peak (Ya dada da da da, da da dada DA!). I even let my annoying little sister join in the play, considering she had the only Huckleberry Pie and that villainous Purple Pieman.

Now I'm pushing 32. I'm so close it's scary. And if I'm lucky we'll get tons of snow and I can set up a sweet, cakey village with my kids and play all day. But... if we get snowed in on my birthday I can't partake of all my free gambling at the casinos! Oh the dilemma...

The Diva has spoken at 9:32 AM CST
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Bah FREAKING humbug
Mood:  irritated
Topic: Rambling much

I am sitting out here at my computer in my favorite pair of pj pants, just finishing up a Skippy peanut butter bar (yum), drinking a glass of tea, wishing I would allow myself to smoke in the house and marvelling at how SHITTY my children have acted the last couple of days. Okay, just today. But it seems like more than just today.

Do these kids not know that tomorrow is Christmas Eve Eve??? Man, when I was a kid it was like spectacular, church-kid behavior the weeks before Christmas. I even got along with my sister! Back than that was saying a lot.

But not my children. If Abby rolled her eyes at Sis and me once today, she did it a thousand times. She mumbled under her breath, did her annoying little head shake paired with hateful muttering. She even lied to her YaYa. Sam was wound up BEYOND BELIEF. I swear, it's a wonder his little heart has exploded he's been so hyper lately. And WHINY! Then there's Kady, who cried herself to sleep tonight after throwing such a humdinger of a fit that she caused her daddy to deny her her advent calendar chocolate. Daddy never takes things away from her and it broke her heart. Then she refused to pee before bed and I had to spank her. Then I told her if she would ask her daddy really nice and apologize for yelling and throwing a fit that maybe, just maybe, he'd let her have her chocolate after all. So what does she do but walk up to him and say "Candy." That's it "Candy." I said, "Say 'Daddy, can I have my candy please?'" Now to me, this made perfect sense. But to the stubborn, demon posessed 3 year old, it did not. She folded her arms across her chest and again said "Candy." Her daddy was not amused in the least. I tried coaching her, coaxing her and finally ended up doing the you-have-one-more-chance thing and she used up her last chance by again demanding the freaking candy. I took her by the hand and led her down the hall to her room. When we got to the door she then realized that I was putting her to bed and thus began a limp-legged, head thrown back, arms flailing, full-blown, all-out fit. I calmly (even though I was shaking with anger inside) put her into her bed, kissed her forehead (thereby causing probably irreversible ear drum damage by getting that close to the shrieking) and told her through clenched teeth that if she got out of that bed, she would most definitely get another spanking. I no more tucked in Ab and Sam than that little booger was standing in the hallway shrieking at me. So, I spanked her. Then this time, not so calmly, put her back in her bed and told her that if one spanking wasn't enough that I'd have to make it two if she got up again. THANKfully she stayed in there. Well, except when she snuck out of her room on me and made it all the way into the living room to tell me she had a "Notty nose". Is it wrong that I wasn't all that gentle when I wiped her "notty nose"?

Then to top all that drama off, I had to tell my husband that he did not get the job he interviewed for last week. The job that he was really wanting. The job that was going to rescue him from Wal-Mart.

Happy FREAKING Holidays from the Hoovers

The Diva has spoken at 11:05 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
Saturday, December 4, 2004
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
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
Monday, June 14, 2004
Air conditioning!!!!!!!!
Topic: Rambling much
Praise the Lord, we finally turned on the AC. I'm telling you what, I really do not know if I could've lasted one more stinkin', sweaty day in this miserably hot house without air. Agh, it's been awful. Today was the clincher. My friend, Trishia, called this morning and asked if I was about to crack. They're holding off turning theirs on, also, but I think she may have very well caved in by this evening. Call me a wuss, whatever you want, but I will be cool when I wake up in the morning, that's one thing I know for sure.

Being this hot and humid for an extended period of time, you do things that you never dreamed you would. Like putting deodorant under your boobs. Yes, really. I'm tellin' ya, if you have any boobs at all you know what it's like when those things start the waterfall of sweat. You wear a bra, not for support, but simply to stifle the perspiration torrents. Another friend of mine told me she did that sometimes in the summer and I never dreamed I would actually do it. But I did. And hey, it works!! Quite well, I might add. I've been taking 2 and 3 showers a day just to cool off. When I had taken shower #3 the other night and came down the hall fanning my shirt Paul gave me the strangest look and asked what the heck I was doing. I said, as straight-faced as I could, that I was drying my deodorant. I could tell he was perplexed and asked how fanning the front of my shirt would dry my deodorant under my arms. When I told him that the deodorant I was drying was not under my arms, well, he kind of blushed, not out of embarrassment, but I think simply because he sometimes marvels at the crap I do. Desperate times...

Paul and I have reached a new level in our marriage, I've decided. Not only am I sharing trade female secrets on creative anti-perspirant'ing, I am allowing him to participate in the age-old art of waxing. Sadly, it's not my eyebrows I wax. It's my arms and upper lip. Agh, the older I get, the more I resemble a Sasquatch. I know that the hair on the upper lip is simply hormones and age. The hair on my arms is nothing more than a really crappy draw in the game of Heredity. Not only did I inherit Dad's grey hair, but I've also inherited the hair on his arms. Or should I say "in-hair-it"...HA! Maybe that was funny to only me, I dunno... Aaaaaanyway... I put up with this awful anomaly for years until I finally decided that it would have a hold on me no more. Enter Sally Hansen and her magic box of wax strips. That Sally Hansen was a sadist, I'm sure of it. Okay, to make a long story short I proceed to wax my arms the other night. If you've ever waxed you know you have to pull the skin taut when you rip the strips off, if you've never waxed, well now you know what you have to do. With the wax being on my arm I didn't have the extra hand to spare, so I trot up front with this hot-pink strip glued to my left fore-arm. Paul and the looks he gives me....poor guy. I asked him if he could do me a favor. Believe me, it was met with trepidation, but he agreed. He was kind of impressed at the results and enjoyed holding the strip up to the light to see just how much hair it had ripped from my body. So when it came time to do the right arm, I trot up to the recliner again, except this time he says he wants to rip the strip off while I hold the skin taut. Believe me, that was met with trepidation. But I let him. I'm thinking that he and that sadist, Sally Hansen, are twins separated at birth.

There are two conflicting theories I have regarding being married long enough to allow your spouse to do such things (or worse!) with/for you. One is that we have been together so long that we have reached a level of comfortableness that supercedes most relationships. I mean, he's seen me give birth to 3 children, so obviously the modesty barrier was broken a long time ago. But to allow each other to participate in the ordinary not-so-pretty moments of life, like waxing, well,that takes quite a bit more than breaking a simple modesty barrier. We are comfortable in who we are, not only with ourselves, but with each other as well. We are truly a couple, a long-term couple. The other thought is that aw, to heck with it, he's the only man to see me naked in 11 1/2 years. It's not a matter of being comfortable with each other, it's just who's available at the right times. Not like I'm going to call my Mom at 10pm with a wax strip stuck to my forearm and ask her to drive out here to hold my skin taut while I rip the hair out from the root.

I'm not sure which theory I'm going with at this point... I'll ponder it some more while I pluck my eyebrows. In the living room. Under the light of the lamp next to his recliner. While he watches WWE.

(PS: The Diva will be incommunicado for a few days. Taking a little selfish vacation. Need some ME time in a desperate way! Will write when I get back into town. XOXO)

The Diva has spoken at 10:41 PM CDT
Updated: Monday, December 6, 2004 3:26 PM CST
Tuesday, June 8, 2004
It's Tuesday and I'm insane....what's new with you?
Topic: Rambling much
Ever have one of those days where you get this nagging thought in the back of your head that you have finally fallen off the deep end and are officially crazy? For some reason today is one of those days for me. It's not been a bad day, per se, I just feel borderline insane. WalMart does that to me, lol.

I love to people watch and I think that quirky hobby alone keeps me from going stark raving mad in the middle of the detergent aisle at the local super center. Where else can you see toothless rednecks with a herd of children trailing along behind and hanging off the cart (oops, better watch what I'm saying, I'm that sentence minus the "toothless" part!), men who are fed up with the shopping experience in general and are moping along behind their wife's cart and sighing every minute or so, the elderly couple trying to decide if DelMonte green beans are cheaper than Green Giant, harried working moms trying to get groceries on their lunch hour and wondering if they can fit all of the refrigerator items in the mini-fridge at the office, helpless dads shopping alone with the kids and thanking the Lord for their wife and thinking, "HOW IN THE WORLD DOES THAT WOMAN DO THIS EVERY WEEK??"... I mean, I could go on, but you are totally nodding your head going "Yep" to them all, aren't you? People watching is what keeps me sane. And when you think about it, someone may have people-watched you today and you kept them from going stark raving mad. How's that make you feel?

The Diva has spoken at 3:02 PM CDT
Updated: Monday, December 6, 2004 3:21 PM CST

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