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The Ramblings of a Redneck Diva
Thursday, February 10, 2005
Being poor is SO overrated.
Mood:  irritated
Topic: Things in life that suck
Okay, so Sis and I are taking this financial management course ya know. And they give us homework. So today was payday for Mr. Diva and I both. I told him that after the kids went to bed that we'd sit down and work out our cash flow plan together, see how it all goes, etc. HOLY FUCKING SHIT, we are in the hole $672 every month!!!

I mean, I KNEW we were broke, but to see it on paper....man.

I'm so frustrated, depressed, confused, angry...hell I don't know my ass from my elbow, my ass from a hole in the ground, shit from shinola, "come'ere" from "sic 'em", apples from DID I MENTION THAT WE'RE $672 IN THE HOLE EVERY FUCKING MONTH???????????

I apologize right now to any former teachers, parents of my childhood friends, religious personnel and to my mother, for my foul-assed language. Sometimes it's gotta come out, folks.

I called my sister who is so on fire for this class and had her plan figured out weeks ago and man, she understands it and she's just better with numbers period. I called her at 9:30 and she was in bed, but swears she wasn't asleep. I was desperate or I'd have really intended on hanging up when I said, "Oh gosh, sorry! I'll let you go!" when I just really needed to talk. THANK GOD she was insistent upon my staying on the line. I told her that it just wasn't making sense - the whole zero budget bullshit, the putting money in savings when you can't even pay the sonofabitchin' electric bill, figuring your "non-acceptable" pro-rata payments based on "excess cash" each month, but have I mentioned that $672 that we seem to NOT HAVE?? How can you figure out what your pro-rata payment to a non-acceptable creditor is WHEN ANYTHING TIMES ZERO IS NOTHING?

The relief in her voice was so very obvious when she said, "I'm sorry you're $672 in the hole, but my GOSH I'm glad this isn't making sense to you either!"

We're jumping around in the book and the workbook. Seems to me if the dude that wrote it actually put chapters 4,5,6,7,8 and 9 BEFORE chapter 10 that quite possibly he meant for us to read them IN. THAT. ORDER. Quite possibly. But no, last weeks' homework was Chapter's 1-3 and 10.

I'M SO CONFUSED.

Paul kept getting more and more pissed because here I've convinced the man that this is going to work and we are going to eliminate our debt and we're going to pay CASH for that trip to Disney World in 2008, yet all of the sudden we're $672 in the red? My stomach got all tied up in knots, my eyes started watering, my head began pounding and all I could do was say, "Sorry honey. Really. I'm just sorry. Go watch some fishing or something and contemplate which set of dishes you want when you divorce my sorry incapable-of-making-a-wise-financial-decision-to-save-my-life ass."

He did go watch fishing. Whether he contemplated place-settings is unknown at this juncture. I hope he doesn't take the good ones. I'll need to sell them to pay off the mountain of debt, not to mention the regular ol' important necessities like oh, electric, water and the internet.

The Diva has spoken at 11:32 PM CST
Tuesday, February 8, 2005
Let them eat cake!
Mood:  silly
Topic: Complete utter nonsense
I just had to share a picture of the cake I made last night. I hardly ever make them because, frankly they are a pain in the ass. But they're so pretty and everyone just ooh's and aah's, so it's almost kinda worth it.



Voila'!


The Diva has spoken at 10:48 PM CST
Monday, February 7, 2005
Tupperware doesn't "burp", it "whispers"
Mood:  not sure
Topic: Rambling much
"Diva, why on earth are you posting to your blog at 9:09 pm on a Monday night? Aren't you supposed to be at the Big Fancy Casino losing money and in general just spreading your unluckiness around?"

Well, yes, Dear Reader...that is my normal Monday night activity, but tonight I am at home. I had forgotten that wrestling comes on on Mondays. Wow. I had forgotten that Monday nights used to be the nights that I watched WWE until my eyes finally started doing that crossy thing and I'd doze on the couch until Mr. Diva would try to wake me up for his version of a WWE match. (Except, unlike those guys on TV, we were always naked...) Usually I'd just feign utter exhaustion and sleep on the couch, though. Ahhh...but those were the days before Ladies' Night at the Big Fancy Casino. Now I come in from the casino reeking of cigarette smoke, all sulled up because I didn't win shit again and he usually doesn't even attempt sex on Monday nights.

My Tupperware party ran late, which I knew was going to happen. They always run late, even when you try hard to not let them. I sold Pampered Chef for four years, I know these things. We had SUCH a good time, though! It was so nice seeing Kim again, who now has two GROWN UP children. *sob* She was still the same Kim we all had grown to love when I was having a T-ware party on the average of every 2 months. (Why didn't I save my money back then - back when I had it??? Oh yeah, because I had it.) My friend, Chloe, booked a party and I need one more person (hint hint - any takers?) to book so I can get this incredibly nifty serving platter set, which I have never laid eyes on, but I oh so have to have them! They're FREE for cryin' out loud, so I now have an obsession with these platter thingies.

You should've seen my mom...OMG, she was hilarious the closer it got to 8:00. She was the one who swore she'd leave promptly at 8 even if a burping was in process. Well, this woman had tickets, by golly and she wasn't leaving until the drawing had taken place. She had her tickets laid out on my end table, in numerical order no less, was sitting on the edge of her chair, fauching at the bit and tapping her foot. The mean part of me wanted to drag things out just a little longer... She didn't win, btw. Didn't matter to her though - at that point she was too worried about making it to Miami in time for her free play. Heather was hot on her heels, with two crying, cranky children in tow who just weren't quite done playing yet. The things we do for free money on Ladies' Night.

Mr. Diva of course had to push that marital bliss envelope just as far as he could, even after a rather vehement request to be back before 8:00 so I'd be assured a chance to make it to town. He sauntered through the door at 8:20. By the time everyone left it was 8:30 and I had plenty of time to get there. Okay plenty is an exaggeration - it takes 22 minutes to get there, so it was pushing it, but still do-able. He said I could go if I put the kids to bed. No way I could've accomplished that. It wasn't worth the stress and strain. So he'll just have to be understanding tomorrow night if I happen to get tied up at my financial management class and he mysteriously doesn't make it on time to Men's Night at the Lucky Turtle. He'll also have to be understanding if I am just "too exhausted" from all the cleaning I did today, plus hosting a party, to play WWE with him tonight. He'll just have to get over it, won't he?

Put that in your selfish pipe and smoke it, Mr. Diva. Hah! Two can play at this game we call Twelve Years of Marriage. I may not win all the time, but I still have the only vagina in this relationship and it seems to be a pretty popular item and I ain't afraid to use my ownership of it to get what I want or to get even.

The Diva has spoken at 9:35 PM CST
Updated: Monday, February 7, 2005 9:45 PM CST
Sunday, February 6, 2005
Happy Birthday, Mr. Diva!!
Mood:  loud
Topic: Rambling much
We just got in about an hour from all the gambling festivities for Mr. Diva's birthday. He came home with a whole $20. One thing about that man of mine, he certainly plays what he has, lol. He started out doing well, only playing half of the free play they gave, but then he got all greedy and lost it all. I'm glad he gets pissed easily and quits playing to go pout. Otherwise he'd get into trouble.

Mom made a huge pan of ribs for lunch and Sis, Bub, and Paul's mom also came out to eat. The ribs were awesome. I also made a big ol' skillet of calico potatoes and man, did they ever taste good, too.

I yelled at Mr. Diva during lunch and felt pretty bad about it later. I mean, I did yell at the dude in front of his mom. That was wrong of me. I gotta remember to apologize for that... But I told him and told him to nail that stupid piece of facing back down and as a result of him NOT doing it, I now have 3 holes in my white 3/4 sleeve shirt, dammit.

Ab woke me up at 1:30 this morning saying she had to puke. Man, why do they DO that?? Why can't they just go do it on their own THEN come tell me? I have a knee-jerk reaction to throw my hand in front of my face when the kids wake me up during the night because I have a deep-seated fear of getting a face full of barf. Poor thing didn't quite make it to the trash can, ugh. I got her cleaned up, the floor cleaned up, the trash can cleaned up and then made her a pallet on the couch. I slept the rest of the night beside her in the big chair, but she didn't throw up again. We all slept till 9 this morning which is unheard of in the Diva house, I must say. I think we had all just had a busy weekend and we were all pooped. Ab woke up famished, ate some toast and drank some Dr. Pepper for breakfast and was fine the rest of the day. I think 3 days of nothing but junk food was the cause of the mid-night ralph fest. Poor thing.

This is awful, but the first thing I thought of when she woke me up saying she was sick was "Oh crap, how am I gonna clean puke out of the top bunk of that frickin' bunk bed???" Fortunately that wasn't an issue. Whew.

Courtney called this afternoon to tell me that the Big Fancy Casino has a graveyard shift slot tech position open, which is EXACTLY what I was hoping would open up when I applied. But now I also have an application in with the new motel in town! Decisions, decisions. Of course, I obsess much and have been in a knot all afternoon. Should I inquire about the casino job or wait till the motel calls? What if the motel doesn't call, even though the guy said he would? What if I take the casino job and the motel guy calls the next day? What if the casino job pays more than the motel job, even though the motel job is what I want to do with my life in the future when I finally get the balls to go back to school and get a degree? (If that were the case, I'm sure I'd take the motel job anyway. I think.) Am I really capable of getting a "real" job after 11 years as a housewife/stay at home mom? Listen to me talking like both places are knocking down the door to get at me. Geez. I really do need a job, though. Simple as that. Gosh, being a grownup sucks big ones sometimes.

Tomorrow night I'm having a Tupperware party. I have a long-term relationship with my T-ware lady, Kim. I started having parties with her when I was pregnant with Abby, that's how far we go back. I haven't had one since we moved to this house, though. I got all caught up in the Pampered Chef action and neglected my T-ware lady. Shame on me. But I'm excited about it. I love Tuppeware! When I told my sister about the party she exclaimed, "WHY on EARTH would you schedule a party on LADIES' NIGHT YOU IDIOT???? I'll just tell you right now, I won't be there." I assured her that Kim had already been informed that I run with a group of hard-core Ladies' Nighters and at promptly 8:00 there would be a mass exodus out my front door. She assured me that we'd be done. My mom emailed me to RSVP and said, "I'll be there, but I'm leaving at 8:00 even if the Tupperware lady is in mid-burp." I doubt I go to the casino tomorrow night, though. I think I'll just take the night off. Not like I win anything anyway. Eh.

Sis bought Paul's and my dinner at Dairy Queen tonight. I am a whore for Hardee's Mushroom and Swiss burger, so when I saw a big sign for DQ's Mushroom Swiss Char-burger I was SO THERE. Wish I hadn't been there so much. It sucked. What a freaking disappointment. AND WHERE ARE THE DAMN THUNDERSTORMS WE WERE SUPPOSED TO GET TODAY??? And I'm still pretty pissed about the 3 gaping holes in my shittin' white shirt. My hair is fuzzy from the 9000% humidity. My favorite jeans were so tight when I put them on this morning that after I stopped sobbing I took them off, threw them across the room and put on my sweats. I considered setting fire to them right then and there, but decided that since they are my favorite jeans I'd give them a second chance. It's really not their fault, I guess. I drank 3 Mountain Dews on the casino run tonight because only the Big Fancy Casino carries Coke products and I will not let the likes of Pepsi pass these diva lips. Now I have a headache from doin' the Dew. Husband is going to want sex tonight because it's his birthday and he seems to think he deserves it or something. I would rather stab myself in the left eye repeatedly with an expensive Cross pen full of alcohol that had been laced with cyanide. That's how much I don't want to do it tonight.

Oh yeah, btw - I have PMS. Couldja tell?

The Diva has spoken at 11:51 PM CST
Saturday, February 5, 2005
Post Flumber party or Pre Super Bowl post
Mood:  lazy
Topic: Kids & other noisy things
Like I give a flying crap about the Super Bowl really.

The Flumber Party was last night and we had a great time. The girls did, too, I'm sure.

No really, a good time was had by all in attendance. We had a super short meeting as far as doing the GS Promise, Pledge of Allegiance and the Brownie Circle, talked about our weeks, talked about the badges we were earning, etc. Then we ate pizza, which I ordered a ton of. While we ate cake, the girls played. Christy and I related the hilarious story from File Girl that had us all nearly peeing our pants from laughing so hard. We spent the night alternating between letting the girls run wild to bringing them in for some organized stuff. We didn't accomplish everything I had intended for them to, but regardless of that, they had a blast.

Bless Riley's mom's heart - she brought Mulan 2. All was right with the world. It really was pretty good. Of course, I'm a big fan of Mulan anyway.

The girls all crashed around midnight. The three moms that stayed, plus my mom, stayed up and talked till 2 or so. By then I was yawning more than I was talking and said that I was going to have to go to bed. Then of course, we all laid there in the dark talking and giggling for another half hour. The girls slept till nearly 8 this morning, which I considered a special Brownie miracle, courtesy of the Flumber Fairy, I believe. Then when they all woke up, they chose to pester Grammy who was back in my bed. This allowed us three mommies to sleep another 45 minutes or so.

Pancakes and bacon ensued, then we sent all the kiddies outside to enjoy the freakishly warm 60' February weather.

Heather, being the better daughter and financial management class student (We call those kids "teacher's pet", I believe, and I don't think we like them), figured up Mom's plan to elminate her debt in a mere 20 months. Hah. She hasn't figured up mine yet. She has herself figured up to be out of debt in 22 months. Again, I scoff her with a Hah. When we put forth more than you bring in, there is no getting out of debt. Which sucks.

This afternoon we watched Napoleon Dynamite. Mom didn't laugh not one single time. (I also got an offline from my friend Stacie today, asking me that if she didn't like it, could we still be friends. Geez, people.) So the rest of the afternoon as Heather and I so annoyingly quoted lines from the movie, Mom still wasn't amused. But by the time she left she did answer a question with, "I caught you a delicious bass." It was pretty funny.

Here's the A #1 Best Part of the Day:
We are building a playhouse! I even had the balls to call my mother in law and ask her if she would kindly consider putting the money she was going to spend on the kids a Mule instead on lumber to help build this playhouse. Technically, she'd be money ahead on the playhouse. She agreed! So in two weeks construction will begin. I am psyched and will chronicle the construction, as I'm sure you'll all be so eager to follow. Hey, if you're not, pretend, k?

Well, tomorrow is Mr. Diva's birthday (42 - Egad!) and we're having ribs for lunch then going gambling. What an awesome day it might be. Mom walked out of the casino on her birthday with $103, Christy left with $200 and I, being the typical loser I am regarding all things gaming, left with $61. Here's hoping Mr. Diva fares better than I did and more like everyone else!

The Diva has spoken at 8:27 PM CST
Friday, February 4, 2005
I still got it
Mood:  sharp
Topic: All in the family
Tonight is the Brownie Flumber Party.

Five Brownies, one Jr Brownie (that would be Kady Princess), four mommmas, one Grammy and it looks like one pissed off daddy. Mr. Diva won't find some place to go tonight, so he is going to be here. Yeah, that is going to go over well. He stated hatefully last night, "Well, it's MY home and I'll be here if I want. I'll just go to bed!" I said, "That's all well and good but I will not make them be quiet. Hell, there's no way to make 6 little girls BE quiet. This is their slumber party and they are going to have fun. You're in for a long, loud night, dear. And not THAT kind of long, loud night, either."

He has no clue what he is subjecting himself to. No clue. I think it's kinda funny. Oh and then when he realized I wasn't going to cancel the party so he could rule his quiet home once more, he said, "Well fine! I'm going to invite all my guy friends over and we're going to play cards all night and drink beer and fart and... and... stuff!" I didn't even look up from the computer, I just said, "Fine. I've been trying to get you to do that for years. It'll be fun. Just let me know when you want to do it so I can make some food."

As he stormed out of my office he muttered, "Son of a BITCH." Oh yeah, I still got it.

The Diva has spoken at 9:52 AM CST
Professional Day is just another way to say Parental Torture
Mood:  sharp
Topic: Kids & other noisy things
The kids are home from school today. They are not making this a good day. Already I've had to break out the oh so heinous punishment of "Kiss Your Sibling". Yep, when they are so bad with the fighting and bickering and arguing I make them apologize, hug, then kiss. They hate it. But sometimes, sometimes, it makes them quit. Today, however, it hasn't.

Poor McKenzie. Another day of therapy for that kid.

*deep shaky drag on her cigarette* "Man, they just kept AT each other! The fighting...it was awful. Afwul. And their mother. Oh that poor woman... she was so beyond help that she sat at her computer for a solid hour in her pajamas. I think she was trying to ignore them *another deep drag* but man, how can you ignore something like that? You CAN'T, man...you can't."

I should probably just go ahead and write her mom a check for at least two therapy sessions right now. It's the least I can do.

Speaking of therapy and kissing family members...
Awhile back Sam and Gentry, my nephew, were fighting. Not just bickering, but all out WWE Smackdown stuff. I had gotten onto them repeatedly and they just kept right on. Then someone got hurt and the fighting became bloody out of anger. I busted them both, sat them in chairs and when everyone had quit crying I told them to hug. Then kiss. The looks on those poor boys' faces was of pure horror. They looked at each other and then at me and you could see fight or flight being considered. Finally, after threats of more spankings and a call to Gent's momma and possibly a grounding, they kissed each other quickly on the cheek and Sam fled to his room. Gentry just sat there, his face covered with his hands. I left the room, walked around the corner and silently laughed till tears rolled down my cheeks. A little bit later I walked back into the living room to find Gentry sitting in the same position. I said, "Buddy, you aren't in trouble anymore. You can go play." Nothing. "Gent? You okay?"

"No, Aunt Kiki! I'm not okay! I keep remembering that KISS!!"

*deep drag on his cigarette* "Man, we were just blowin' off some steam, wrestlin' and stuff and then someone got hurt...can't remember which one of us...and my aunt *drags shakily* man, she swatted us both. That wasn't so bad, it didn't hurt. But man...when she made us KISS. Dude, that is JUST NOT RIGHT."

The Diva has spoken at 9:47 AM CST
Updated: Friday, February 4, 2005 9:49 AM CST
Thursday, February 3, 2005
I turned up in a Google search - who knew
Mood:  special
Topic: Complete utter nonsense
Oh wow...I just accidently found the page that shows referrers to my blog. Yikes.

One was someone looking for a photo of the Peculiar Purple Pieman of Porcupine Peak. Understandable seeing as how I posted awhile back about my confectionary village and snow days of my youth.

One was just me showing up in a search for "redneck" Yeah buddy. I'm that for sure. Even if the title didn't blatantly state it.

But the last one was just icky. Icky I tell you. I see how it picked up my site, but IEW. I wish it hadn't.

Now I may very well become a slave to not only my counter, but my referring pages as well. I'm just too easy. Can anyone say "addictive personality"?

The Diva has spoken at 11:30 PM CST
Funny kids
Mood:  spacey
Now Playing: The freaking Outfreakingdoor freaking Channel - what else?
Topic: Kids & other noisy things
The kids do not have school tomorrow, so Ab's friend McKenzie is spending the night tonight. This poor child is an Only and very adamant about staying an Only, so to throw her into my rather loud and rambunctious house o' children... Well, let's just say that she'll get her money's worth out of that therapy session. She's a good kid, I gotta say and we all love her to pieces. Tonight the four children and I loaded up and headed to the Wal-Mart for paper plates, ice cream and a loaf of bread. Then it was off to the video store to get Mulan 2 for the flumber party and Karate Kid for the boys' sleepover. My three children were obviously listening to the voices in their heads that tell them to act as horrible as humanly possible, thus embarrassing their mother and their houseguest, making people all over the store stare at them and then shake their heads in utter disdain and making their mother have a strange recurring tic on the left side of her face. Poor McKenzie stuck close to me the entire time we were in there. I wouldn't have wanted to be associated with them either. Little shits. Mulan 2 was all checked out and Ab cried. Man. Wasn't fair to her that Bubby's movie was in and hers wasn't. Man. She wanted to go to the other video store, but I told her no, we only rent from this one. On and on she kept badgering me. I was tired. So here's the testament to my inept mothering skills: She kept on and on and finally I said, "Abby! Dadgummit! We don't rent from the other video store because I owe them money and have for a year and I'm sure they have red-flagged me and if I walk through the doors I'm liable to be arrested! Now! Do you really want me to go check over there for Mulan 2???" She'll probably get her money's worth out of that therapy session as well, because it seems that lately I'm doing everything I can to assure my kids a life-long Christmas-card-sending relationship with their therapist.

**********************************

But here are the funny things that happened this evening--

McKenzie was telling us this over dinner: "One time I looked up in the sky and there was these three helicopters flyin' and guys was droppin down out of `em. Or almost. And I got kinda scared. I watched `em. And then I thought 'Well, the war's come to town.' Later I told my Granny that the war was comin' to town - look at those helicopters - and she said, '`Kenzie, those are birds.' I felt kinda silly."

********

Sam, not to be one-upped, started telling a story about a huge buck walking out of the brush here on our property. He was describing in vivid detail how it sounded when the beast emerged from the thicket. The girls were riveted. Then suddenly Abby came to a realization. "Hey! That wasn't even you that happened to! It was me!"

"Oh. Yeah."

********

McKenzie asked, "You wanna see a picture of my boyfriend? Cuz I got one." She unsnapped the oh so convenient pocket on the leg of her jeans and pulls out a picture of the magnificent Tristen. It's a picture of the boy with a clipboard holding his artwork, artwork is tacked up on the backdrop behind him. It's really a neat picture. I said, "Oh, does he draw? Is he an artist?" McKenzie said, "Oh yes, he's a great draw-er. He draws some purty neat stuff." Abby concurred, "Yeah, he draws this football skull thing that is awesome, dude. Yeah...that Tristen, he's one cool man." I said, "Abby, he's 8. He is not a man." She shrugged, took a bite of her grilled cheese sandwich and said, "Well, he likes it when we call him a man. So we do."

********

When we got home from town everyone was tired and I sent them all back to get their pj's on. All three girls went to the girls' room and shut the door. Sam changed in the living room then felt compelled to run at top speed down the hall and fling open the door to the girls' room. Of course, you know that screams and squeals came forth. He giggled and ran away, then ran back. I said, "Sam Hoover! What in the world are you doing!? It is not appropriate for a boy to go into a room when young ladies are changing clothes! They don't have shirts on!" He said, "So? I don't have a shirt on either." I said, "True, but you don't have boobies." He shrugged and said, "Neither do they."

The Diva has spoken at 11:11 PM CST
Excerpt from a chat
Mood:  silly
Topic: Complete utter nonsense
This is just how twisted my friend, Stacie, and I are. We chatted until after 10 last night and both of us got so goofy it wasn't even funny. This piece of dialogue from last night is a prime example of how we are together and always have been.

The conversation started when she said she is supposed to create 13 scrapbooks for her class at daycare by the end of the schoolyear. She and I both loathe scrapbooking. Loathe, people.

methinksgreen: what a crock
redneck_diva73: screw that
methinksgreen: we are of like thinking
methinksgreen: one of our kids' mom let us look at some of her scrapbooking mags. omg
methinksgreen: it's like a whole little cult out there, isn't it?
redneck_diva73: they are a race all their own
redneck_diva73: i do not get the allure
methinksgreen: me either
redneck_diva73: there is no draw for me
methinksgreen: and i love pictures
methinksgreen: i love to take them, i love to look at them
redneck_diva73: but i don't like foo-foo'in 'em all up in a fancy album with 40 gazillion little heart and flowers and baby bottles and then writing a half a novel about each picture
methinksgreen: oh, i am so glad i have someone to bash scrapbooks with
redneck_diva73: *high five*
redneck_diva73: i just don't get it.
methinksgreen: and i love paper, too. strange how my obsessions can come so close to others yet never cross that line
methinksgreen: i can spend HOURS in the pen & paper at wal-mart
redneck_diva73: i have a pen fetish
redneck_diva73: a new pen will just about give me an orgasm
redneck_diva73: okay, that was a little overexaggerated
redneck_diva73: but i still like pens
methinksgreen: now, i new pen that vibrated. THAT would give you an orgasm
redneck_diva73: HELLA YEAH
methinksgreen: OH, OH! Kristin! Here's what you and I can do!
methinksgreen: Enjoy a Mardi Gras cropping party!
methinksgreen: oh, what fun we could have
redneck_diva73: WTF???? are you drinking?
methinksgreen: no, not drinking, but being as sarcastic as all get out
redneck_diva73: LOL
methinksgreen: lol
redneck_diva73: oh that's funny. you and i should crash a crop some night
redneck_diva73: heckle the scrappers
methinksgreen: oh, MAN, we could SO do that
redneck_diva73: "accidently" blow all their paper and die-cuts onto the floor
redneck_diva73: start slopping ill-cut pictures onto pages, writing in crayon......
redneck_diva73: oh man that would be fun
methinksgreen: we could use the real fumy kind of crazy glue to do our pictures!
redneck_diva73: OMG they would all gasp in horror
methinksgreen: flap our hands in the air when the pages got stuck to our thumbs
redneck_diva73: i can hear the hushed conversation around the room ..... "it's not lignin free! can you believe them?" " oh gosh, dorothy....that book's gonna go to pot in 3 or 4 years....tsk tsk"
redneck_diva73: that would be a riot
methinksgreen: i would bring my acid-filled blank pages with the clingy film covers and cram about 8 to 10 pictures on an 8 X 10 sheet
LOL

redneck_diva73: ROFL
redneck_diva73: someone would faint
methinksgreen: wua-lah, dorthy! i'm done! You are STILL on that first page? What the heck have you been doing all this time? I just filled an entire 32 page album!
redneck_diva73: then knock a coke over and just drown the book
methinksgreen: oops! my bad!
redneck_diva73: pick it up, all drippin'.....swing it across the table......
redneck_diva73: watch them all scatter
methinksgreen: oh, yeah
redneck_diva73: heehee
methinksgreen: oh, yeah
methinksgreen: oh, yeah
redneck_diva73: we are evil
methinksgreen: we are
methinksgreen: the evil trolls of scrapbooking
redneck_diva73: i like that!
methinksgreen: and, we could man handle all their pictures before they could use them, or even after they've finished a page, with our fingers after eating pizza. pizza with no forks or napkins
redneck_diva73: i feel a new screen name being born... the_evil_troll_of_scrapbooking...

The Diva has spoken at 11:34 AM CST
Wednesday, February 2, 2005
Redneck Diva, you're a bad American
Mood:  lazy
Topic: Rambling much
I feel kind of guilty for promptly turning my TV off at 8:00 this evening. I love W., don't get me wrong, but I am just not that politically enthused. Politickin' was fun when my uncle was running for state representative and we were wearing T-shirts and passin' out snowcones at the fair, but that's about as far as I go with the whole politics thing in general. I vote, I gotta give myself that. At least I don't COMPLETELY suck at being an American. But the prospect of sitting there watching our President talk about the state of the union, our great nation, just makes me start yawning. I guess I really am a bad American - I feel like hey, I'm protected, I'm free, I'm able to worship, believe and speak however I so choose, my kids are free and happy and healthy and I'll just sit here in my warm, cozy home and be all kinds of oblivious. Yep, bad American.

Poor husband was asleep before the previews for next week's all new episode of Lost came on, bless his heart. I shuffled children to the back of the house, turned off the TV, tucked in 3 very tired kiddos, poured myself a glass of tea and headed out here to the computer. It's now 9:41 and here I sit still. I haven't done anything cataclysmic or even really all that fun. Checked all my blogs, even the ones I don't get to hit each and every day, did some business research, did some financing research and thought that I should post something on here. Yet strangely, I couldn't think of much to say.

Okay...so you got my bad American schpiel. I chronicled the events of the past hour and 45 minutes at my computer....yep, that's pretty much it.

I'm chatting with my friend, Stacie, while I type this. We hardly ever get to chat anymore. We went to the movies awhile back and that was the first time we'd seen each other in ages. We're friends, yet we don't hang anymore. Is this what happens when you get old? If it is, I don't like it. I mean, I love her and we're still good friends, but we just don't hang out anymore. And is it sad that I'm 32 and saying "hanging out"?

Sigh

It snowed today. It was really pretty, snowed hard several different times. But the temp hung right around 32,33 degrees all day. Tonight there is no snow. Just mud. Now we have the typical Oklahoma, post-snow mud hole that we call "our yard".

Tomorrow's Brownies. We're having a Brownie/Mom slumber party on Friday night, which I'm really looking forward to. The girls are gonna have a blast, I'm sure. So tomorrow night's meeting will be deciding what badges we're going to work on and complete at the party, what kind of pizza we all want and hopefully someone will bring pediatric sedatives for the children. After midnight, this mom/Brownie leader goes all to shit quick. Plus I get cranky. They wouldn't like me when I'm angry. We are renting Mulan 2, though...and I'm excited about that. Mulan is the ultimate girl power chick.

During the slumber party, the boys are being excommunicated to my sister's house for a night of karate class, followed by The Karate Kid. Sam is so excited about it he can hardly handle it. Poor Uncle Bubba is going to have to endure The Karate Kid...that guy deserves a medal. I'm not sure what my husband is going to do to entertain himself. He's already announced he will not be partaking in the Karate Kid festival. He sure ain't allowed here, though. He'd be shoved back out the door by 5 giggling, squealing Brownies and a 3-year-old who has repeatedly informed him that "You are a boy. You are NOT coming to the flumber party." Yeah. Put that in your testosterone-filled pipe and smoke it, big boy - you're not invited to the flumber party!

Speaking of my weird husband... Sunday is the Super Bowl. Or so I'm told. I'm not a football fan, obviously. Neither is Mr. Diva either. One of the casinos is supposedly going to have the Hooter girls at their Super Bowl party. The man has no desire to see neither the Super Bowl nor the Hooter girls. What's wrong with this picture??? Now, if they were hosting a skeet shoot, fart contest, and givin' away nudie girl mud flaps, plus giving out free Copenhagen, trucker hats and the Hooter girls were outfitted in hunter orange and camo, he'd be all over it. But alas...they're not. And he likes boobies! Why can't he just go sit there and look at the boobies all night? He doesn't have to watch the football! I just don't get it.

Of course, I have no desire to see the Chippendales. They're going to be at the Big Fancy Casino this Monday night. Naked, shaved, shiny pretty boys...nope. I just don't get it.

Oops, the smoke detector just went off. Did not EVEN wake up the kids. Pissed husband off, though. Pissed him off that it was going off and I didn't yank the battery out. Hello - I'm 5'2"! Like I'm going to be able to reach the ceiling! He said something nasty about me being on the (expletive) computer. Wouldn't matter if I was mopping, baking or cleaning the toilet, darling. I still can't reach the smoke detector.

Okay, now he's throwing things around because I'm still on the (expletive) computer. That's my cue to exit Stage Honey I'm Sorry I Can't Reach the Ceiling.

The Diva has spoken at 10:23 PM CST
How much you wanna bet I can throw this football over that mountain?
Mood:  quizzical
Topic: Complete utter nonsense
UncleR
Uncle Rico
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Which Napoleon Dynamite character are you?
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The Diva has spoken at 9:08 AM CST
Tuesday, February 1, 2005
Highlights
Mood:  silly
Topic: Go Super Mom, Go!
Brief overview of the day:

* Trip to Tulsa - uneventful. Hit the last of morning rush hour, but handled it with skill, grace and poise. Yesssssss.

* Visit with cardiologist - smashingly GREAT. Ab's heart is still fine, she is considered 100% healthy and normal and we never have to see that wonderful doctor again.

* Lunch with oldest daughter - precious. We ate at McDonald's (where else) and just enjoyed a rather shockingly grown up conversation. She talked to me over her apple dippers like she'd talk to a girlfriend. We shared, we laughed, I nearly bawled when it hit me just how big she's getting.

*Drive home - uneventful.

*Afternoon at sister's house - nice. Hung out, laughed, played with her adorable little babysittin' baby, ate Dippin' Strips (It's pizza people. Cut into strips. Entirely overrated.) and she paid. Yessssssssss.

* Parent Teacher Conferences - Wonderful! My daughter has the most beautiful cursive handwriting I've ever seen, (I'm glad that cursive is what she'll use in the adult world, because from the looks of her printing, she was gonna have problems) is still a wonderful reader, happy and well-adjusted. My son is a superstar reader as well, a super wonderful precious child with empathy, compassion and leadership abilities that well surpass those of any other 6 year old I know. (Stop me if I'm making y'all nauseous from all the bragging.)

* First class of 12-week financial management course - Started out not so good, but ended up hysterical.

*Trip to Wal-Mart - Hilarious. It always is with my sister.

****************************************
Best parts of the day:
**When my sister was oh so delicately trying to ask a question during the finance mgt class about what if someone you know has a spouse who just flat refuses to cooperate and won't hand over his paycheck and won't follow a budget. I'm listening along, wondering who in the world is she asking about. Of course, everyone in the room thinks she's really asking for herself, even though she repeatedly said she wasn't. When she finally, after fielding question after question about her "friend", said, "Look, okay? This person's husband is a redneck and has his own ways of doing things and she can't make him cooperate!" When she said "redneck" I looked up with shock and realized, "Oh shit, she's talking about ME!" I slowly raised my hand and felt everyone in the room look at me as I said, "Okay, I'M the one married to the redneck she's talking about." She turned red, sorry she just pretty much told the class that her brother in law is a stubborn money-hoarder. I just patted her on the shoulder and said, "You really are a good sister." And she is. But man, was it funny watching her dig that whole. We laughed hysterically all the way to Wal-Mart.

**When standing in the checkout line at the Wal-Mart, I asked my sister "So, how much do you think what I have on the belt there is gonna cost?" She looked it all over and said, "Eh, $110." I said, "Oh crap I hope not! I only have $43 in my checkbook!" She laughed and so did the cashier. When the total was finally declared, it came to a mere $37. I said, "Yesssss! I didn't have to write a hot check! Of course, now I can't pay the electric bill...." She very sympathetically said, "Yeah, I know what you mean. Our gas has been AWFUL this year!" The cashier stopped in mid-scan and I stopped in mid-putting a sack in the cart and she stopped and said, "OHHHH! I meant our gas BILL has been bad! BILL!! Gas BILL!"

The Diva has spoken at 10:49 PM CST
Tuesday's post-Ladies' Night post
Mood:  irritated
Topic: Things in life that suck
[ ] I won a HUMONGOUS amount of money at the Big Fancy Casino last night.

[ ] I won a small amount of money at the Big Fancy Casino last night.

[ ] I won a moderate amount of money at the Big Fancy Casino last night.

[X] I didn't win shit at the Big Fancy Casino last night.

The Diva has spoken at 10:27 PM CST
And we call this stage of life "old".
Mood:  d'oh
Topic: Things in life that suck
You decide to get yourself a treat at the Wal-Mart because, by golly, you deserve it. After much deliberation, you decide your treat will come from the cereal aisle. Because all good things come from the cereal aisle. You notice that your sister has come to the same conclusion - that cereal is the treat du jour.

You notice she has a box of Shredded Wheat in her cart.

You have Raisin Bran.

The Diva has spoken at 10:15 PM CST
Monday, January 31, 2005
Good hair day
Mood:  vegas lucky
Topic: Rambling much
Man, don't you love it when you look damn good? Days like that are pretty few and far between for me these days - winter blues, typical cold weather weight gain, etc. So today when my hair did everything I wanted it to, I was very much happy. It's still good even tonight. I must admit I have good hair most of the time. Granted, it's very particular about how much humidity it likes to be subjected to, bein' naturally curly and all, but when the barometric pressure is right and the humidity is below 70% I have great hair. When Sis and I were filling out our applications for The Biggest Loser, one of the questions was "What is your best quality?" and I asked her for her opinion about my best quality. She looked up and oh so seriously said, "You have good bangs." YESSSSSS. Even the 16 year old babysitter agreed that I have good bangs. It's a gift, what can I say. (Note: I did not put "I have good bangs" on my application.)

I'm a little bummed tonight. So is Sis. We went to nbc.com this afternoon and checked on things for The Biggest Loser. I guess people are already getting calls for 2nd round interviews in LA. Dammit. Why didn't they call US?? We have personality and they specifically asked for personality! We are fat and they obviously want fat people! We sent in a kick-ass audition tape and who wouldn't want to view a kick-ass audition tape in the midst of all the really bad ones? We haven't given up all hope yet, but the hope we have left is diminishing and a little dimmer than it was. Dadgummit. I have good bangs, NBC!!

Tomorrow is yet another trip to Tulsa. Not for the dentist this time. This time it's to Ab's cardiologist who will hopefully deem Ab still completely healed and will let us quit having to give her 1500mg of Amoxil every time she walks through the doors of the dentist's office. Agh. I know that's wreaking havoc on her immune system. If she walks away from this without a complete resistance to Amoxil it will be a miracle. Of course, this kid is all about miracles where her heart is concerned. I have posted about her heart before, but I'm kind of in a hurry and can't seem to find the post to linkback to. Sorry. Anyhoo, hopefully tomorrow will be our last trip ever to the heart doctor.

A mere 20 minutes from now I'll be walking out the door and heading to the Big Fancy Casino for another Ladies' Night. I am not wearing my dadgum Eskimo Joe's Christmas sweatshirt this week. It got to be kind of a funny joke that every stinkin' week I walked into that casino wearing that sweatshirt. I can't help it if I have the wardrobe of a stay at home mom. I can't help it if it's been cold lately and it's my favorite warm, cozy sweatshirt. I was bound and determined NOT to wear it last week, told myself when I put it on that morning that I'd change before time to leave. I got about 10 minutes from home, looked down and crap it all if I didn't still have the stupid thing on. One of the girls we run with on Ladies' Night asked if it was my lucky sweatshirt. I gave her a hateful look and said, "Obviously not." Tonight the Christmas sweatshirt is not on my body. I've already checked.

The Diva has spoken at 7:53 PM CST
Where?
Mood:  silly
Topic: Complete utter nonsense
Mr. Diva walks into the utility room and as he passes Diva, gooses her with a pair of needle-nosed pliers. (Ah the romance)

Diva: Whoo! (slaps his hand) Whatcha doin', hon?

Mr. Diva: (incoherent mumbling)...screw in my tire...

Diva: (drops the laundry she'd been folding) Well, alright, but it'll probably be kinda crowded.

The Diva has spoken at 8:48 AM CST
Sunday, January 30, 2005
Teach your children well
Mood:  incredulous
Topic: Kids & other noisy things
This scene just played out in the next room:

Kady comes running down the hall bawling her head off. You can tell it's not a real cry because she's got her jaws unhinged in order to create the most noise possible, yet there are strangely no tears. She is also punctuating her cries with little "WahhhhhHAaaaaaaHAaaaaaHaaaaaa"'s as she runs, each step making her voice hitch.

Mr. Diva: (I really do like that name) Abby! What did you do to her THIS time?
Kady: Sissy! Twisted! My! FINNNNNNNGER!! (more bawling)
Abby: DID NOT!
Mr. Diva: Abby LeAnna, you better not be twisting no fingers! Come here and let me twist your finger!
Abby: Nuh uh! (starts backing away)
Mr. Diva: I'll twist your damn finger right off, little miss.
Abby: I'm sorry! Gaw!
Mr. Diva: I'll break you kids of that fightin' if I have to beat you to get you to quit.

Thatta boy, sweetie...you got this parenting thing down pat.

The Diva has spoken at 7:05 PM CST
I'm not sure I want to share
Mood:  not sure
Topic: All in the family
This morning I commented on Heather's daughter's birthday post. (Yes, little Leta is a few days shy of 1!) While reading the comments others have left (Oh I hope someday I have that many commenters...I guess I need to get a job so I can get fired and become famous.) I learned of an article in the NY Times about blogging mommies. (Btw, you will have to register in order to read the article, but it's worth it.) I read it and became inspired all over again, even after just having posted late last night about the benefits of blogging from a stay at home mom's point of view.

When I was done with the morning's blog events, I nearly skipped into the kitchen (Note: I highly recommend wearing a bra during a skipping attempt after the age of 30.) to share with my husband my newfound wealth of knowledge about blogging about your children, your marriage and your life in general.

The man is completely perplexed by this blogging business that consumes me. He said, "What in the world do you write on there?" I laughed and said, "Well, I posted yesterday on the pathetic snowfall, I posted in the fall about the demolition derby, I posted about the first day of school and just last week shared about Ab hearing us having sex." No kidding, his face contorted into this mass of blushing, confusion, embarrassment and I think I saw a hint of downright anger. He turned from where he'd been looking out the kitchen window and said, "OH SHIT YOU DID NOT WRITE ABOUT THAT." I said, "Well, of COURSE I did! It's funny! And I got comments on it, too. And it's all about the comments and what the reader wants, dear." I said this with the faux snobbish confidence of a burnt-out author writing a mindless column in a newspaper, mind you. He didn't see the humor in it, to be honest. He was still reeling and mortified. "I cannot believe you shared that with total strangers, Kristin. Honestly! Now all these people know that we. have. sex." Ummm...I can't speak for all of you out there, but I'm thinking that y'all pretty much knew we had sex before that post.

I just smiled and patted his arm and said, "Come on, honey. Let's go out to the computer right now and I'll let you read the actual post so you'll know that I didn't talk about too many particulars -only about your enourmous pecker." His eyes...oh how they widened. "Just kidding. There's only so much creative license I can use." The eyes ceased being wide. He was losing patience with me and grumpily said, "I don't want to read it. Just tell me what you wrote." So I related to him my version of it all. The more I talked, the more he grinned. He had his arms crossed over his chest, was leaning against the kitchen counter and was nodding his head, remembering the entire thing. "It was pretty funny, wasn't it?" Bingo!

I was feeling like I'd won a small battle. I had given him insight as to why I write on here. I share because I care, people. I was on my way out of the kitchen when he said, "Ya know, I think I could blog, too."

Oh my gosh! Don't you know that his blog would be the most redneck blog EVER?? If you think I'm redneck...wait'll you meet him. I said, "Well, if you really want to, then by all means, let's get you signed up." Of course, then he says he'll write a blog if I write it for him. Huh? I write my own, from my point of view. I don't think I could write his point of view even if I tried. That's his to relate, not mine. Upon my repeated refusal, he asked if maybe I'd at least consider typing it if he actually came up with the words.

You know, the family that blogs together might just end up in a big fight, ultimately ending with one sleeping on the couch. At least, I'm thinking that's how it'd go at my house. The man and I can't hang up a picture together without someone getting yelled at. What makes us think we can blog together?

I suggested that we call his blog "Mr. Diva". He didn't like that one in the least. He'll probably want to call it something like "Rural stud" or "Redneck - hung and proud" or something awful like that. If this blog thing comes to fruition, I right now, at this moment, reserve the right to deny all association with that man, cut ties at any given moment and quite possibly permanently move my sleeping quarters to the living room.

The Diva has spoken at 1:13 PM CST
Updated: Sunday, January 30, 2005 1:23 PM CST
Saturday, January 29, 2005
Obsessive much
Mood:  spacey
Topic: Rambling much
I am a slave to my counter now. I've had this blog since June and have never felt the need for a counter. Until now. I got all hooked up with Blog Explosion and Blogarama and now with all this promised traffic I feel the need to know how many visits I get.

I can keep track of how many are new visitors, repeat visitors, what OS they use, what brand of toothpaste is in their bathroom cabinet as I type and when their last bowel movement was. It's scary really.

But then again, that's why we're all here, right? Secretly we're all just a bunch of nosey-assed, voyeuristic, busybodies who get our kicks knowing what goes on in total strangers' lives. Honestly, until I started with the blogging, I kept pretty busy with the neighbors and my kids. Getting a phone call about whose dog tore up whose trash and slung it all over the yard was excitement. The occasional invitation to a Pampered Chef or Tupperware party was enough to make me nearly wet myself. And who wouldn't get excited at finding poop smeared all over the toilet (and wall) by the three year old who conveniently forgot to wipe but was so engrossed in the Gameboy that she forgot to tell you and you discovered it when you walked into the bathroom and the smell of shit smacked you in the face. I mean, who wouldn't? Those are pretty exciting times - times that might be enough to sustain someone. But that was before blogging.

Now, I cannot wait to fire up the ol' Dell every morning and see what Dooce's pinchably adorable Leta did now, even though I've never met Heather or her pinchable baby. I had empathetic pains when Beth started complaining of abdominal pains and asked her readers for help. I laugh obnoxiously loud at Friend Monkey and his musings and enjoy giving my .02 to Babs regarding her questions and ponderings. File Girl and I share a love for Napoleon Dynamite yet we've never even spoken to each other.

But these people - you people - are a part of my life now and I can't fathom things without you. Sappy? Oh gosh yes. Desperate? You betcha. Okay, only bordering on desperate. I mean, I haven't stalked anyone whose blog I read. Yet. Karen is going to end up with me on her doorstep one of these days, though. She says I'm only partially psychotic, God love her.

Blogging has given this lonely stay at home mom something to get excited about. Yeah, the Tupperware parties are pretty awesome, don't get me wrong. I daren't give those babies up, no way - there are still pieces of plastic storage-ware I don't have yet. But in between peddling parties, dogs with trash fetishes and preschool poop escapades, I'm enjoying keeping up with the folks whom I've never met, have never babysat their kids or taken them soup when the whole family is sick, but I know about their struggles with infertility and then prematurity, the bad days they have at work (Okay, so I'm related to Courtney, I guess she doesn't count. I actually DO know her.) and their ridiculous tigger slippers. I would have a hard time giving up all this excitement. Call me adventurous if you will, but sometimes you gotta live on the edge.

Besides, haven't I enriched your life in some way by telling you about my eldest child hearing us have sex, about how I (almost)kicked ass in the Demolition Derby and how I called my son a "little shit" when he threw up on purpose? I mean, come on...you like peeping in my windows, too. Don'tcha?

The Diva has spoken at 11:08 PM CST

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