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The Ramblings of a Redneck Diva
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Mmmm....Little Debbie is one talented woman
Mood:  d'oh
Topic: Rambling much
Right now I'm doing dual posts here and on Blogspot until I get all 200-some odd posts transferred over there. I have traffic here and I hate to leave that traffic just yet. Self-absorbed? Yes, much.


Many thanks to McKenzie's mom for bringing Little Debbie to our Brownie meeting today! The girls only ate the box of brownies, thus leaving an entire box or Easter Basket cakes to just sit and go stale before our next meeting, week after next. SO, being the smart woman I am, I decided to just eat the box of Little Debbie's (Not the entire box by myself!) and then replace it with a new, fresher box by next week's time. What's that you say? You say that Little Debbie cakes have a shelf life of approximately 47 years? Ohhhhhhhhh .... whaddaya know.


Also, many thanks to Riley's mom for bringing me a little monetary bonus this evening for my "trouble". I tried to convince her that it's no trouble to be a Brownie leader and I LOVE what I do, but she insisted. I pick Riley up every week on Brownie day from school and bring her out here and I guess Mel thought that was trouble. I wouldn't do it if I didn't really want Riley to be in my Troop.

Selfish Vacation Fund now stands at $140. Yesssssssssssssss.


Did you know that if you have a mouthful of Little Debbie Easter Basket cake in your mouth and then take a huge drink of iced tea that it forms a rather thick coating on the roof of your mouth? Yummy.


My mom's in Virginia with my Papa and GG visiting with GG's family through next week. GG's from down there originally and the rest of her family is still there. Hey, her family bought their plane tickets, so why not go? I just wish they'd though to include Cousin Diva. I mean, it's not like I know them or anything, but I like to travel, too! I could get to know them if they bought me a plane ticket. And then, and correct me if I'm wrong in my geography, but I think Richmond is close enough to Cousin Stacey that I could just jaunt over and see her! I miss Cousin Stacey. Completely different side of the family, but that doesn't matter. Hey, I'll even stoop to using non-blood-related step-family members to get what I want. I mean, it's Cousin STACEY, for cryin' out loud! And we are twins. Separated at birth. It's creepy. Of course, if we really ARE twins separated at birth, then that means that there was some hanky panky at a family reunion or something and I'm just not sure I'm ready to go there. So I'm content with saying she's my "Soul Sista" and call it good. Right, Stacey? (Girl, you could comment you know)


BEST PART OF THE DAY: I won Round 19 of the Story Contest at Fizzle and Pop! I won!!! I've two- and three-way tied before, but I actually WON this one all by myself. I'm pretty proud, I gotta say. I only won by one point, but I won, dadgummit. I've already submitted my words for the next round. Here's how it works, the winner of the previous round submits 6 words (sometimes more when Angela is feeling nasty) and then everyone has to write a story using those words. I am particularly evil and these are the words for Round 20:
Hee hee, told you I was evil.
So if you're feeling particularly literary and want to try your hand at writing with us, go for it! It's fun and we only bite when provoked. Well, Wenchbites all the time, but she's really good at it! *wink*


We made Goop at Brownies tonight. You know, that cornstarch and water concoction that is a solid, yet it's a liquid. I think Magnet Lady and I had more fun with it than the girls did! We couldn't keep our hands out of it! We kind of messed up and added too much cornstarch at one point and it turned into concrete, but we fixed it and had a blast. I ended up dumping the contents of the bowl onto the table and we drew in it, smeared it around and covered our hands with it. Definitely going to keep that one in mind for rainy days when the kids are driving me batshit. Make a batch of Goop, dump it on the table and let 'em have at it. It's good to be the Mommy.


Speaking of being the Mommy. Beth over at Crazy Us wrote the most wonderful post today about being a parent. It was precious. Read her post please. Heck, read her whole blog. She's a wonderful writer, a good momma and well, simply amazing. My comment to her post on parenting was:

"It's kind of a whooshy, gooshy, bumpy, whirly roller coaster ride that you're not quite sure it's going to be fun while you're standing back there
looking at it, yet you know you want to try it, and when you finally try it it's super fun and even though you get nauseous a few times you still cackle like a loon through the entire ride, crying because you want off but it's too much fun, but you're scared and you're exhilarated and whoosh...

all too soon it's over."

I thought that was a pretty good description of parenting. Except, most of the time instead of me actually puking I get to clean up someone else's.

The Diva has spoken at 10:53 PM CST
Tuesday, March 8, 2005
A sampling of rambling
Mood:  hungry
Now Playing: A turkey call on the Outdoor Channel
Topic: Rambling much
Sunday night Sis and I went to the Lucky Turtle casino for $10 free play in our pj's. I won $15. So last night I lost my $10 free play at the Big Fancy Casino like in about 10 minutes. I NEVER take my purse into the casino because if there happens to be any money in it I'll be tempted to spend it. Last night I took my purse. That $15 I won at the Turtle was calling out that it missed being in a slot machine and wanted to go home. So I sent it home.

There are three games that I really like to play. Two are penny machines. Just slot-type games that you can waste a lot of time, if you choose to be cheap and only bet pennies, and not a lot of money on. The other one I like is Red Ball. The Red Ball machines are hard to come by. None of the casinos around here keep too many in house. Why I have no clue because THEY ROCK. On Ladies' Night your chances of getting on a Red Ball machine before 10 are slim to none. So after about 10:30 I went on a mission to find me some Red Ball. I found one. I put in $10 and started out playing Blackjack first. This is what I do when I'm playing on money that I won. Because Blackjack is a fickle game, my friends. Well, the gods of Blackjack were shining their favor down on me last night and while I didn't just blow the world away with multiple Blackjacks, I did beat the dealer 9 times outta 10. I got my $10 up to $19, played back down to $15 and then switched to Red Ball. I have certain numbers I always play on Red Ball, at least to start. It's a keno-type game, hello random chance. I always use 6, 25, 64, 42, 1, 21, 73. (Should I actually tell you this? Does this decrease the luck in the numbers? Has anyone watched Lost lately? Hmm...) And I usually start out betting .15 a roll. First hit I got the bonus spin and I was excited. Things looked good already. But the most exciting thing is when you get a bonus spin off of a bonus spin. Then it pays big. I won 130 nickles! That's 6.50, people. I was livin' large. I won 75 nickles. I won 10 several times. Then I bonus spun off the bonus spin again. Another 130 nickles. I upped my bet to a quarter at one point, then back down to .15. It's a science. I think. All told I got up to $23.75 and cashed that puppy out. So I now had $28.75 because I hadn't spent the last $5 of the Lucky Turtle money. I got my cash and then watched Angie play awhile (She won $368 last night, lucky chick) then decided to try a different Red Ball machine. Shoulda known better. It ate $5 in 5 minutes. The bastard. Then I couldn't help it, I played the $3. But I left the casino with $20 and that's $5 more than I went in with. It was a good thing. I now have $120 towards Branson. I'm still taking donations, too.


Okay, so I made a new blog over at Blogspot today. Check it out and tell me what you think. It's pretty okay really. I like the template and it's just as easy as Tripod to use. I haven't done much with it, but it seems user-friendly. Well, except for Hello. Which is what you use to post pictures over there. It nearly made me cry this morning. I couldn't make it do what I wanted for nothin'. My main concern is that switching over there I am losing nearly a year's worth of archives, a year's worth of hilarious and heartfelt mommy stories and musings. This last year chronicled quite a bit ya know. I hate to lose that. Anyone have a solution? I know I can always keep this as an archival site, but what a pain. Hmmm...any thoughts would be appreciated.


Tonight was finance class. I think at one point my brain began smoking slightly. It was the class about investments. Yikes. But now I can actually tell you what a mutual fund is. AND I know what a growth stock mutual fund is as well. I seriously doubt that comes up in casual conversation in the circles I run, but just in case it does, I am so there. We stay at home moms rarely delve into stocks, annuities and mutual funds convo, but stranger things have happened. We're not all oatmeal heads. Close, but not all the way there anyway. I also know that I have a lot of research to do in the next month or so because we're nearly to the point where we're ready to begin investing. Glory be.


Tomorrow is Ab's six month eye exam. She hasn't complained so I'm hoping that her eyes have slowed down a bit. Bless her heart, she got glasses in April of her Kindergarten year. She went almost a year with those before she started complaining of headaches. Upon examination the doctor found her glasses to be less than half what they needed to be. At first I was ready to pounce all over the last eye doctor we had used, but the new dr said it was just a case of bad genes, not poor examining. Poor kid. So this new doctor sees her every six months and every time, her eyes have gotten worse. Usually quite a bit, too. Mine were the same way though. Heredity's a bitch. My gray hair and horrible eyesight's a testimony to that fact.


On a really cool, awesome happy note: Sis and Bub sold their house!

They're moving in with Mom. For probably a year. Mom wouldn't have offered if she didn't want them to be there, but y'all know as well as I do, throwing family of four into house with single Grammy is bound to be a reality show all it's own. I told Sis tonight that if we had the room, they could live with us. She didn't respond. I broke the silence with, "Yeah...but ya of us would end up dead." She said, "Whew! Glad you were thinking that, too!" So I'm just going to help her move. I figure that's healthier for all those involved.


Sunday the temp here got up to 75. Today it barely got over 50. Tomorrow it will be 43 and we have a chance of snow. Next week is Spring Break. When Ab and Sam were little, two years in a row we got our heaviest snowfall over Spring Break - one year, over two feet. I kind of figured that would happen this year since we've gotten all of 3 inches all winter. But I checked today and it's supposed to be really nice and by the end of the week temps in the 70's again. It's no wonder we are all sick. No one's felt it necessary to stay in the house with temps as nice as we've had. Grr....I hate germs.


Speaking of germs....would y'all hop on over to Courtney's blog and drop her a little get well note, wouldya? She's super sick with what seems to be double ear infections. I offered her the magic ear drops Abby got over the weekend last night and she called me this morning, taking me up on that offer. She had valiantly gone to school, but when the barfing began, she gave it up. I met her in the yard with the magic ear drops and a bottle of Tylenol w/codeine since no one in this house can take the vile stuff. 3 out of 5 of us are allergic to it. So she might as well use it. I hope she went straight to bed after medicating the hell out of herself. She hasn't posted today, so that must mean she's really sick. But drop her a line and wish her speedyquick recovery, k?

The Diva has spoken at 10:52 PM CST
Monday, March 7, 2005
I accomplished so much today
Mood:  chillin'
Topic: Rambling much
We eliminated one chunk of debt this morning. The guy that bought the truck met us at the bank. He handed the loan officer a cashier's check to pay off our loan then handed Mr. Diva a check for the balance. We signed over the title and got the heck outta Dodge. Well, we left after I told the loan officer while I was shaking his hand to kindly take that payment book and shred the hell out of it. He thought I was funny. I'm cute that way. Charming as hell and quickly on my way to financial peace.


We then went to the other bank and I opened up my Girl Scout checking account now that I have cookie money out the wazoo. Agh, the cookies. I dream of Tagalongs and Samoas, people. I'll be glad when the cookies are gone from my house. Of course, then I'll just have the extra ass to remind me of the good times we had with the cookies. Anyway, then we deposited that truck check into our personal checking account with much delight. It was a good thing.

We drove directly to the insurance agent and paid the insurance on the cycle since it's getting to be that time of year. You know what time of year - the time of year where any time Mr. Diva is out on the motorcycle and the telephone rings I answer it in fear that I'll hear what I heard on July 3, 2003 - the sound of an ambulance siren and Mr. Diva's friend screaming into the phone that Mr. Diva had been hit by a car. Yeah, that time of year. I can hardly wait. It ranks right up there with fucking Thanksgiving. So that done, we then had a celebratory lunch at Long John Silver's, which is roughly equal to a high colonic to me. I love their chicken (Chicken at a fish place? How dare I?) but it's rough on the ol' intestinal tract. Kady thought she was in hog heaven, eating in a restaurant again. Abby and Sam were so jealous even though they hate LJS. We then went to the tag office and got the cycle tags in anticipation of the next wreck.

I just had so much to do when I left the house this morning, so much that I had to carry a folder with me! Just silly little errands, but things that had to be done. They were all accomplished and I felt like my day was good. I was at peace. I was still sore from the morning's tickling smackdown, but the day was still good.

Oh I forgot to tell y'all - Paul bought a small flat-bottom aluminum boat AND motor yesterday for $100. The neighbor lady is selling her place and kind of liquidating her stuff a piece at a time. The neighbor got a trailer cheap and we got a boat cheap. Paul was so proud of that purchase, still is. He and his friend, Robert, are out there right now putting a new board or something in it. They've been playing with it all afternoon. It really was a good deal. We were figuring it would cost us $400 or $500 to get him a nice boat and it was going to have to wait till next summer. But this boat just kind of happened and we really feel it's a blessing from God. Like He's saying "Well done, my children. You don't eat out anymore, you cut up your credit cards. Here, have a boat." Hey, whatever The Big Guy wants to send our way.

We were driving home this afternoon and I said, "You know, with all this money in my purse, I have this overwhelming urge to just go get a new tattoo." Paul said, "Hey now...I thought we were attaining financial peace here! What's up with this tattoo business? Delayed gratification is what you've thrown at me for weeks now, right?" I said, "Yeah...but you got a new boat and I'm feelin' all left out. My tattoo won't cost $100. Can I? Puh-leeeeeeeeeease???" He said, "No. No tattoos right now. I'm just going to give you $100 towards your little Branson getaway next month." I nearly caused us to wreck when I grabbed him around the neck and hugged him.

I have been telling him for a few weeks now that I'm feeling "that way" again. It happens in the fall and again in the spring. Stay at home mom goes berserk. Stay at home mom begins yelling more. Stay at home mom initiates shut-down mode. Stay at home mom is no good to anyone. So I run away. I spend two nights away from home. Alone. This time I'm going to see Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat in Branson. I told y'all that last week, right? Yeah...I did. So anyway, the deal was that I could go as long as I didn't use the household money to go. Now I've got $100 towards it. Stay at home mom is feeling like she will survive once more.

Oh and also, I won $15 last night at the Lucky Turtle's pj party. Sis won $12 on her first spin, the lucky dog. I won my $15 playing (Yah Yah) Yahtzee. I cashed out speedy quick. Sis cashed hers out, too. But she played most of it again. Not me. So technically I have $115 towards my trip. Yessssssssss.

Tonight's Ladies' Night, too. Dare I hope?

The Diva has spoken at 5:41 PM CST
Updated: Monday, March 7, 2005 5:43 PM CST
Sunday, March 6, 2005
Everybody's working for the weekend
Mood:  vegas lucky
Topic: Rambling much
Grrr...had a bunch typed on here and dadgummit it all if I didn't click a link accidentally and the page changed and I lost it. I hate when that happens.

Before I forget, here's me!
Well, minus the big ass.

We sold the truck! Well, as of in the morning it will be sold. We go to the bank and pay it off and release the (hounds) lein in the morning. I was so proud of Mr. Diva on Saturday. I wanted to go with him when he sold it because I knew the guy that wanted it was a dealer and Paul's not the best at bargaining. I really wanted to take this old guy on, but Kady was sick and I had to send the man out on good faith that he would be strong. I gave him a pep talk that would rival a high school football coach revving up his team right before the big game. I few tips, pointers and a slap on the ass and he was outta here. The guy tried to get him to come down on the price, but he stood his ground. Yay Mr. Diva!!!!

Anyone need a good boat?

We had plans to go to The Oklahoma D-Day Facility on Saturday, but what with the truck selling it kind of got postponed till Sunday. I had already decided after getting up with Kady at 5am to watch her cough till she puked that she and I would not be going. I figured all that dust and uckiness would be hell on her already blechy bronchioli, but Mr. Diva was going to take Mini-Diva and Diva Boy and spend the day. The truck business took longer than we anticpated. "But there's still Sunday" was our battle cry.

Saturday night we had Family Game Night in at Mom's. Since we're all working really hard to attain financial peace, we've given up a lot of the former entertaining. Well, the Diva family has - my sister and her husband seem to be making a freaking living with the gambling these days, the lucky dooder-heads.

I was drying my hair when Abby came in, almost in tears, telling me her ear really hurt. Well, with all the snot and whathaveya that's been lurking in her sinuses it's no wonder there'd be pressure in her ears. At her last dr. visit Dr. David informed us that the tube in her left ear was no longer in the ear drum, but was just lying in the canal and would eventually work it's way out. Not a big surprise, it's been almost a year since she had the tubes put in, it's about time to see them come out. I gave her an Advil and told her it'd quit soon. It didn't. 20 minutes later, when she should've gotten at least a little relief, it was hurting worse. I just got the phone and had them page whoever was on call for Dr. David. The PA that called me back was amazing and said that more than likely the viral sinus infection had allowed a bacterial ear infection to set in and since the tube wasn't in the drum anymore, well, that's bad. Pain for Mini-Diva. She called her in Zithromax (KD and Sam had just finished theirs that morning) and some ear drops. Let me just say that it's hard as heck to get a bottle of those drops, but they are GOLD man, pure gold. Our last PA wouldn't give them to me. So to get a Rx for them from a PA we'd never seen before seemed like a huge score. They worked like a charm. We see the ENT in a month and I'm praying that we don't have to have the tubes re-seated. That's gonna be a real pisser.

Anyway, Mom said that once a month now she's hosting Family Game Night. She'll cook and we'll play games and just get back to basics. Well, Mom, God love 'er, was just faunching at the bit to play a new Dominoes game. OH GREAT GOOGLYMOOGLY I WOULD RATHER STAB MYSELF REPEATEDLY IN THE EYES WITH UNSHARPENED PENCILS than ever play Mexican Dominoes again. Four hours of any game, even Cranium, is too much. Yes, four hours of Dominoes. Now, don't get me wrong, the company was great, I had a blast with my family, but oh the pain of Dominoes. Am I even spelling Dominoes right? Is it Dominos? Awhell, who cares - it's a boring damn game no matter how you spell it. Uncle David attended our first FGN and bless his pure soul, I think he prays for us a lot now more than he ever did. I'm sure he wonders just where it all went wrong. God love 'im.

Finally at 11:30 we finished our last game. The kids were all asleep on Mom's couch bed. She said to just let them spend the night. You know what that means:


The four hours of Dominoes was a small price to pay. Yep, TMI. Who cares. We had loud sex. Trust me, since the moving of the bedrooms with our bedroom now being in close proximity to the kids' and the fact that our eldest daughter has actually heard things, loud sex does not occur in our house anymore. It was a nice treat. Heehee.

I slept a solid 7 hours last night. I ate cake for breakfast and didn't have to hide in the utility room for fear the kids would see me and whine that it's not fair that they don't get cake for breakfast. I felt very grown-up. Mom fixed lunch for us. She's on a roll, that Mom. We brought the kids home and Paul immediately retired to the recliner. He had a bad headache and crashed for nearly 3 hours. So much for the 4x4 thing at The Hill. I read while the kids watched Peter Pan. It was very relaxing and quiet. We tried to play outside after that, but by then some clouds had come in and it was downright chilly. It got up to 74 today. It was heaven. And sunny!!

The kids and I watched "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days". Abby really liked it. She likes mushy gushy love stories. She's a cool kid, that Abby. Sam just groaned and covered his face when they kissed. He's a cool kid, too. Kady just sat and picked slap fights with her big brother. She's cool, but not when she does that. After the kids went to bed I watched "Monster". Yikes. What a disturbing movie. I kinda wish I hadn't watched it. She was one twisted chick.

Now I'm just killing time, trying to stay awake till 11:45. Just over 30 minutes to go. The Lucky Turtle Casino in Wyandotte is giving away $10 from 12-5am if you wear your pj's in. I can so wear my pj's and I'm all about the free money, but man, I'm TIRED. Sis and I are going at midnight, then we're coming home and the husbands are going to get theirs then. This saving money thing is great, but I'm finding that we're doing strange-ass things to find free entertainment.

The Diva has spoken at 11:10 PM CST
Updated: Sunday, March 6, 2005 11:14 PM CST
Tuesday, March 1, 2005
You gave yourself a what?
Mood:  celebratory
Topic: Rambling much
Well, tonight I finally did it. I gave myself a PLASTECTOMY. Yep, I cut up my credit cards. The end of an era has arrived. Never again will I have one. My hands literally shook while I did it (in front of a class of about 20 people) and there was a strange sense of panic about me as the ginormous scissors approached the small piece of defenseless plastic.

I cut up the Discover card first. It was the one I've had the longest, the one I swore I was going to keep forever because Sam's Club takes Discover and nothing else and what if I want to buy 40 gallons of mustard or something and have no cash? No kidding, this was my thinking. But since that beyotch from Discover made me cry last week, I suddenly have developed this ease in making the separation. Go figure. Okay, so back to the cutting up of the cards...I snipped that Discover card right in two. There lying on the table, right on top of my sister's 14 cut-up credit cards, were the two halves of my oh so precious Discover card. Good-bye 40 gallons of mustard on credit. Even if I would've earned 1% cash back.

Then I cut up the Mastercard. I had no problem cutting that one up. Even though there is a hefty balance on it, that account hasn't been open for 2 years. The really nice folks at Sears closed that account for me. How considerate of them. I didn't even ask.

The last one to go was the Lane Bryant card. No more buying bras and cheeky panties on credit. From now on, if I need underclothes I pay cash. Thank God I bought up a bunch of 'em last time I was in there. I have enough cheeky panties to get me through till Jesus comes back. And then, I'll get my new heavenly body and my ass will be a lot smaller so I can shop at Victoria's Secret then.


In lieu of my normal sarcastic Post-Ladies' Night check the box post, I'll just tell ya right here: I didn't win shit at the casino last night.


Today I attended the third funeral I've been to in 6 weeks. How crummy is that? This one was for the father of a dear friend of mine from grade school. They moved to Tulsa when we were in 6th grade, but we've stayed in touch off and on since then. She came back to town when we had a (rather small) 5 year class reunion and even attended our 10 year reunion. She was shocked that I was there today, but truthfully, I couldn't imagine not being there.

Mom and I went to the funeral together and my gosh, how I love that woman. She is honestly my best friend. (Okay, so she ties with Heather, but I'm still lucky to have two best friends.) She asked me before we got out of the car to go into the chapel if I needed tissues. I said I didn't, because honestly it'd been probably 20 years or more since I'd seen Butch and I was there for Jamie, plain and simple. I didn't foresee tears. Oh but the tears came regardless. By funeral's end my mother and I sat there with tears streaming down our faces and nothing to dab them with.

In the parking lot, after the service, while we were waiting for the family to come out, I was telling Mom that I really wasn't enjoying the number of funerals I was attending these days. In six week's time 5 people I know have passed away. Mom said that Papa has always said that when the sap rises and falls, you'll attend more funerals. I asked her what that meant. She said that the old folks say that in the spring when the sap is rising, more people die. In the fall, when the sap starts to fall, again the same thing. Who knows why, it just happens. Papa even said this to a funeral director in town who wholeheartedly agreed with him. He said there is a period of time in the spring and fall both where they are inundated with business. How strange eh? Have any of y'all ever heard of such a thing? I'm kind of believing it, seeing as how things are going.

I called my best friend from grade school, DeLisa, last night to tell her about Jamie's dad. DeLisa and Jamie and I were all in Brownies together and I knew she'd want to know. Unfortunately she couldn't get a sub for her class that last minute and couldn't attend the funeral, but asked that I tell Jamie she wanted to be there. She made a comment that really struck me and pretty much said exactly how I was feeling. Something to the affect of how if this what being a "grown-up" is like --attending more funerals than weddings, facing your parents' mortality and possibly coming to grips with our own mortality, watching people you love grow old -- this is a part that pretty much sucks. Okay, so I'm the one that said "sucks" because DeLisa is much too pure to say that, God love 'er.

It's very difficult to sit in a funeral home and say good-bye to someone your parents' age and not be affected by it. I'm having a hard time dealing with it, to be honest. And I told Mom that very thing.

I love my Mom so much - while I sat there crying in the passenger's seat of her car, she said "Well, I'll just tell you girls something right now. When I die, don't you dare go out and buy me something new to wear in the casket. Go to my closet and pick out something old from in there. Maybe even something that was a little too tight while I was alive. 'Cuz you know they just slit it up the back anyway. Then I'd actually be able to fit back into it again. Oh! And make sure they tape my boobs up nice and perky and show a lot of cleavage. Because when all the men walk by to view my body, I want them to see what they missed out on." It's hard to cry when your mother is saying something like that. I was snorting and snotting all over the place by then.


Last night at Ladies' Night, I commented to Mom and Angie that I sure hoped I won the $500 soon. I am wanting to take another "selfish vacation" to Branson in April to see Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. Angie, who is a whole lot of redneck, said, "What the hay-ell (translate: hell) is a techni-whatever you said?" I laughed and explained that the show is a Broadway-style musical about the story of Joseph and his coat of many colors from the book of Genesis. She was unimpressed. I said, "Well, in the Broadway run, Donnie Osmond played Joseph," with all the hoity-toityness I could muster. She remained unimpressed and even sniffed in disapproval. I said, "Dammit, Angie! My husband won't take me and I just WANT to go!" She said, "And the tickets are $500??" I said, "Good grief no. $500 would just allow for me to spend a few nights there, see the show and do some shopping." She said, "Sister, you give me a hundred bucks, I'll buy you a six-pack of beer and show you a better time than Donnie Osmond ever could." I said, "It's a musical, Angie." She said, "Gimme a hundred more and I'll even sing for ya." Man, I hope I win the $500 soon. Rest assured that I will not be giving Angie $200 to get me drunk and sing to me, though.

The Diva has spoken at 10:06 PM CST
Monday, February 28, 2005
Monday again. Ho Hum. Running out of cute Monday titles. Obviously.
Mood:  lazy
Topic: Rambling much
I got up at 4am. That is just wrong, people. I'm pretty sure that the world outside my house was actually stopped at that unGodly hour. I don't think any motion occured until 5:30. I'm pretty sure anyway.

I left my house at 5:45am. I picked up my sister, niece and nephew at 5:55am. We left for Tulsa at 6:15am. We arrived in Tulsa at 7:15am and absolutely had to pull over at a truck stop/travel plaza/get anything you'd ever want to eat in one city block kinda place to pee. Addison and I were desperate. Upon leaving the McDonald's we ran across the parking lot and my daughter, being the graceful Olive Oyl look-alike she is, tripped over a curb and went sprawling onto the grass below. We laughed. A lot. She laid there in the dried grass, coat askew, gangly coltish legs in a rather creepy weird position, giggling her head off. At least the poor thing can laugh at herself. I always could, too. Like when I fell up the stairs going out of the old bandroom in junior high. More than once. I always have been able to laugh at my pathetic, clumsy-ass self. It's a gift.

We arrived at the dentist's office at 7:30 and only had to wait 15 minutes before they opened the door. We knew there was no way they'd actually see us that early, but at least we could let the obnoxious children out of the confines of the van. It was 7:45, the children had been up since 5:30 and they were so hyper I was fearing their heads were going to spontaneously combust at any second.

On the upside, the dentist was able to actually wiggle one of my daughter's molars. I gasped when he showed me proudly how that sucker just moved under the command of his shiny, pointy dental instrument. I said, "Oh no! She's not supposed to lose THAT one!" He laughed and said that the fact that the tooth is mobile is a good thing and patted me on the arm while I tried to quit hyperventilating. He said that means her headgear is being worn enough that it's actually moving her teeth. 'Bout damn time. By the time school starts in the fall she should be to where she'll only have to wear it at night. For the rest of her life. Oh well. By damn, she'll have pretty teeth.

My niece threw the most dramatic fit I've ever seen today before and while they cleaned her teeth. She is quite the drama queen. God lover 'er. She just likes to be dramatic, plain and simple. It unnerves my sister, because frankly it is kind of embarrassing. But seeing as how she isn't my child, I can turn my head and snicker shamelessly. I swear that child's going to end up on Broadway. Or at least Jerry Springer.

The boat is now safely anchored at my father's house. Right smack dab on the highway. The highway that leads right to the river. Halleluiah. The truck is now safely listed at as well. Didn't even know such a place existed. Apparently at Ken's Farm and Home, they only had one particular kind of For Sale sign. It had a link at the bottom for Upon perusal of the sign and then the website, you get a free listing with the purchase of the .98 sign. Wow wow woweeee. It's listed. It may not get us a thing, but it's listed. It's also going to take a small trip to Wyandotte tonight to a guy's house who has an uncanny knack for selling vehicles. He sold Paul's nephew's truck in 3 hours. If only we could be that lucky.

My husband and his eating schedule on his days off are going to be the death of me. He eats at the complete opposite times the rest of the house does. The kids and I eat lunch every day at 11:30. Every day. He will undoubtedly, every day he's off, fix a huge breakfast at like 10:30. Then be hungry again at 4:00 and fix a sandwich. So then when I'm ready to make dinner at 5:30, he's not hungry. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. But if I don't make dinner, then by 7:00 he's pissed because there's nothing to eat. This has to end. I will be forced to murder him if it doesn't stop.

But I must say...he's wearing a turtleneck today. And he has always looked damn fine in a turtleneck for some reason. Until I met him and married him, he never wore anything but western shirts (Brush Poppers were at the height of fashion when we met)or t-shirts. So using my feminine wiles I convinced him to branch out to henleys, turtlenecks and Polo-type shirts. But the one that wins, hands down, is the turtleneck. the summer a tank top is pretty fine as well. He has a really sexy tribal type tattoo on his right bicep/tricep. Hubba hubba y'all. I love his arms, gotta say. Whew! I need a cold drink. And a cigarette.

Well, I'm off to make dinner! Even though he's not hungry. Grrrrr. It's Ladies' Night, though! So at 8:30 I'll be heading off to town to not win any money! Life is good.

The Diva has spoken at 5:14 PM CST
Sunday, February 27, 2005
Just some good ol' boys
Mood:  lazy
Topic: Rambling much
In my brief moments of lucidity today I have managed to watch quite a bit of the Dukes of Hazard marathon on CMT. That was one good show. When I was watching them Duke boys as a child, obviously jealous of Daisy's ability to show her stomach AND wear pantyhose with shorts, drooling over Luke (No, I wasn't in love with Bo. I think I was like the only girl not in love with Bo.) and thinking how utterly cool it would be to have a car like The General Lee, I had no idea that when I grew up I would be redneck just like them. No idea at all.

My kids have had no desire to watch ANY of The Dukes of Hazard. What is WRONG with these children?

The Diva has spoken at 8:09 PM CST
Good heavens
Mood:  d'oh
Topic: Rambling much
Has is really been since Thursday since I posted? I am so sorry! I realize that most of the world can go about their business without reading my daily musings and ramblings, but it seems that there are at least three of you who need me! Little C (aka Cousin Courtney), Magnet Lady, and Jersey Girl need me! When I don't post, they miss me. Magnet Lady told me that very thing last night while I was sitting at her computer helping her learn the ropes of the almighty blog. Then Courtney comments today that she's worried because I haven't posted in so long. Jersey Girl has just stated before that she reads me daily, so I'm going on faith that she still does, lol. I honestly did not realize it'd been since Thursday. Amazing how times flies when you sleep through it.

See, I haven't had the energy to do anything but sleep lately. It's been bad. I'm starting to worry myself.

Friday I took Ab to the doctor (Btw, it's a viral sinus infection, therefore there's nothing to be done but treat the symptoms. Dammit.) Then ran a few minor errands, had a lunch with Heather (I will SO post about that fiasco possibly later, if I'm still awake.) and then came home. I put the kids down for a nap and crashed myself. An hour and a half of restful bliss I had. Then we picked Sam up off the bus at 3:45, went back to town, dropped Chandler off at the bank, got that poor Sam a haircut, (The barber said that was the most hair he'd ever seen on that kid and he's been cutting his hair since Sam turned 1), then delivered Papa's GS Cookies, visited with Mom (she gave the kids a snack, too, God love her) then went to karate. Poor Ab opted to stay with me rather than go with her daddy, as originally planned, but about 30 minutes after her Daddy headed home she said she was regretting that, her ear was hurting. Not much I could do at that point, poor kid. We skipped Wal-Mart, which meant that we now had NO SOAP in the house for Paul's shower. I managed to find a motel bar in my travel bag. He looked at it and said, "Well, this'll work for one arm." Jerk. He works at Wal-Mart, he knows precisely where the soap aisle is. Anyway, we came home, put the kids to bed and then Paul and I watched a movie. I'm surprised I stayed awake through it, but it was pretty riveting and it was about weather, with is a serious love/fetish/obsession of mine. The Day After Tomorrow is what we watched. It was creepy. Not scary, just disturbing in a "holy crap that could really happen" kinda way. Then it was 7 hours of Nyquil induced slumber. I think I'm becoming an addict.

Saturday I slept till the late hour of 7:30, got around, then the kids and I went to Wal-Mart. Good Lord in Heaven, they must've sent every mumbling octagenarian a plethora of dollar-off coupons and then sent the Pelivan out to get 'em all, because the store was positively brimming with OLD PEOPLE. God love 'em. I know I'll be old someday and I dearly love my own old people, but when you are fighting a sinus infection, dragging three snotty, sneezing children, all three of which have money they are simply dying to spend, you don't feel like waiting on Grampa Harold to decide which fiber-rich cereal he needs for his irritable bowel. God love 'em.

We got back home around 1, I made the kids get blankets and pillows, threatened them to lie down and not move, popped in a movie and slept while the children laid in the floor in front of me, afraid to breathe and move enough to incur my wrath. I felt better when I got up, made some dip because we had plans to go to Magnet Lady and Mr. Magnet's house for dinner. A real live grownup type dinner! Okay, so the kids were gonna be there, but still it was other grownups! Paul was even excited and he doesn't get excited about much. The Magnets are our camping buddies and we love those magnetic folks dearly. Dinner was a smash. Mr. Magnet grilled up some "moist" (There I said it, ML! LOL) burgers, we had chips, dips, yummy beans and even though Magnet Lady said her coleslaw tasted like dog poop (that's a direct quote, btw) I liked it. She shared some magnificent hand scrubby, sea salty stuff with me and my hands were so soft I wasn't sure they were mine for awhile. Of course, that feeling of surreality might've been the Nyquil... Anyway, we started watching Saw, which was super creepy, then Paul leaned over real quiet and said, "Are you ready to go?" I said, "Uhh, not really...I thought we were going to watch this movie." And I was almost pissed off because I never get to spend time with grownups anymore and dammit, I was having FUN, but when I looked over at him, I knew there was a reason he was wanting to leave an hour before we needed to. So we got the kids around and loaded up. We started out of the Magnets' driveway and he said, "I wanted to stay, hon, but my throat is hurting so bad I can hardly stand it." Poor guy! So I stopped being pissed about the early end to the evening. He went straight to bed after that. I went, too. After I had my Nyquil, of course. :)

Today, I got up at 7:30 again, threw a box of donuts at the children, poured three cups of milk, popped a donut hole in my mouth and went to the couch. I covered up in two heavy blankets and still laid there shivering my head off. I turned on the TV and prayed the children would be lured in by the happy, brightly colored cartoonish people on screen. They were. I slept. It was good. Then I came to for a few moments, long enough to pee, make some tea, then went back to the couch. I slept till 11, was still freezing, so I got up and took a super hot shower. I felt better after the shower, but still not too whoop. I made lunch, loaded the dishwasher, started a load of laundry and by that time the kids were done eating. Again, I told them to get their blankets and pillows. We watched The Emporer's New Groove, which is one of my very favorite Disney movies. I couldn't stay awake! I slept through all but the last 20 minutes of it. Then they put in another movie and I slept through it, too. I know - I am a horrible mother. My childrens' IQ's probably dropped 50 points today, poor kids. When the movie marathon was over, I dragged my sorry self up off the couch, told the kids to get their slippers on (they were still in their pj's) and we drove to the video store to take back some movies that husband forgot to take this morning. I have managed to stay off of the couch for nearly 4 hours now. I feel it calling my name, I think it misses me.

The Diva has spoken at 7:52 PM CST
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Nyquil is in da hay-ouse
Mood:  silly
Topic: Rambling much
Oh wow, this Nyquil is some serious good shit. No kidding. I feeling nothing. Not even my fingers touching the keyboard. Hope I don't write anything I wanna take back or something. Not sure I could find backspace if I tried.

I gave Ab one Nyquil around 6 this evening. That poor child was knocked on her skinny little rear! She stayed home from school today, barking like a harp seal, nose producing the most fluoroescent green snot I've ever seen and just in general looking pale and sick. She wanted to go, bless her heart, she tried. I asked her before she ever even got out of bed if she wanted to stay home and she said she'd try to go. I told her if she went and started feeling bad all she had to do was call. She got dressed and came up front to have me pull up her hair and I just couldn't stand the thought of sending her off to that germ-infested school where something quite possibly worse than she already has could take over. So I said, "Baby you wanna--?" and she nodded her head and said, "Yes. I'll go put my pajamas back on." Sam was more than a little peeved that she was staying home and he was not. Poor guy. He's been sick, too, but hasn't ever acted sick. He's been coughing up a storm, but it never once broke his stride or slowed him down. This evening he was snuggling me on the couch and I kissed his forehead. It was hot. I took his temp: It was 101. Geez, the kids was bouncing off the walls, you'd have never known he had one. Ab has run one all day, but nothing higher than 99.2, hardly enough to count, yet she looks like she's been run over. By 7:30 Ab was falling asleep virtually standing up. I gave her some hot chocolate to soothe her throat a little and sent her on to bed. She has a dr appointment at 9:30 in the morning and I'm just bettin' we end up with antibiotics over this one. Sinus infection, if I were a betting woman. The jury's out as to whether Sam goes to school tomorrow. Depends on the fever. No matter how he feels, if he's running a fever he doesn't go. And he's not going to be happy either, because tomorrow is the Senior/Faculty basketball game and that means no afternoon classes. Btw, Courtney, I did not see your name on the roster...

After all that jubilation this morning after the budget actually being in the black, I had a mean ol' hateful woman from Discover make me cry. Yeah. She was awful. Simply awful. If there is a contest for Collection Person Of The Month Who Reduced The Most Grown Women To Tears, she'll likely win. 'Cuz I'm sure I'm not the only one she talked hateful to today. Once you get started you kind of get on a roll, ya know. The really nice person called first, asking me to make a payment. Understandable, I did owe them one. When I told her what I could pay she said, "That's not good enough." I said, "Well, I'm sorry you feel that way, but it's the best I can do." Her reply basically was that it didn't even cover the finance charges. Okay, I fully understand that, but lady, I ain't got it. So I said, "Ma'am, I am doing the best I can right now. I am more concerned at this time with feeding my children and keeping the electricity on. I'm sorry if you can't understand why I can only pay you $35 this month." She then offered to see if I qualified for a hardship payment plan. Great, sign me up, I've been enduring lots of financial hardship lately. But I think how they work things at Discover Card is that they test you to see if you can hold up under the verbal attacks of "The Supervisor" to see if you can be considered a true hardship case. I didn't hold up well once she started threatening to sue me for fraud. WTF? She said that by putting my phone bill and cable bill on my credit card and then not making a payment constituted as fraud and therefore, I was guilty as charged. I explained that it was never my intention to fraud anyone, I was just doing the best I could. (See a pattern here with my pleading? Guess my best isn't good enough for them, eh.) So after about 5 times of her raising her voice at me, telling me I LIED to the kind and benevolent folks at Discover Card, that I was going to get sued I HAD HAD IT. I told her that I was offering to make a payment, plain and simple. No, it wasn't near what she wanted me to offer, but then you get into that whole blood from a turnip analogy and I didn't think she'd appreciate it right then. I also told her I didn't appreciate her copping an attitude with me, that I was trying to be courteous and respectful and I only wanted that in return, and she then told me that WASN'T copping an ATTITUDE with me and how DARE I insinuate she WAS. Again, she threw out the whole suing and the frauding and I said, "You know what, do what you have to do." She said, "Have a nice day!" and hung up. I was literally shaking so hard and my heart was beatin so fast that I thought I was going to pass out. I was ANGRY. I realize she is doing her job, but belittling someone and essentially scaring them and threatening them isn't a job I'd want to have. I couldn't sleep at night, knowing that I had bullied someone into making a payment they simply didn't have. I guess this is why I'm a stay at home mom. I don't have the balls to confront people and bully them. I'm quite happy being ball-less, if that's the kind of person I have to be if I have 'em.

So I called my daddy, bawling my head off, asking him if they really could sue me and if they were going to send Guido to my house to teach me a lesson or something. He rationally explained to me that, okay I've made some mistakes. He told me that I'm fixing it and I'm doing the best I can (Dad thinks my best is good enough!) and that's what matters. He said to send them that $35 and to not worry about any further bullying. I can always be the first to hang up next time. He told me that if they gripe about the payment next time to say "Either you take my $35 payment and get a little at time. Or you can just talk to my bankruptcy lawyer. I bet you don't get as much then." Heehee...Dad has such a way with words. He also gave me a free listing in a farm magazine in the want-ads that he wasn't going to use, so we can list the truck. Man, thanks Dad. It has a huge circulation. He also brought over his step-son in law who has a friend who might be interested in the boat. They took pictures and were sending them to him tonight. I sat down awhile ago and made up flyers to hang up on bulletin boards all over town advertising the truck for sale.

I'm tired of being reactive - I want to be proactive from now on. That's a pretty big step for me, considering how nonconfrontational I am, but I'm trying. Doing my best, eh. Recurring theme tonight it seems. So now the ball is rolling. Our plan to be debt free is in motion and if things go the way I have them written out on paper we will be completely debt free within 9 months. No kidding.

The Lord has just blessed my socks off today. Even if the mean Discover Card lady made me cry. Tomorrow, if the MasterCard people call, I'm not going to cry. I'll stand my ground. Yeah. I just hope they don't call before the Nyquil wears off. I'm slurring my words right now and sound a wee bit drunk, I'm afraid. They might not take too kindly to a $35 payment if I sound like I just went on a beer run.

Man, Nyquil is good.

The Diva has spoken at 10:13 PM CST
Heavenly swats
Topic: Rambling much
I just realized something.

My last post had the word "fucking" twice, "shit" three times and I mentioned God's infinite wisdom as well.

Oops I just did it again. Dammit.

I am so gonna get a spanking for that when I get to heaven.

The Diva has spoken at 11:49 AM CST
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Sing me a song
Mood:  lyrical
Topic: Rambling much
I have always needed music in order to basically live and thrive. My parents both have beautiful singing voices and some of my earliest memories are of my mom's soprano, that she never gives herself enough credit for, and my dad's deep resounding bass. In fact, when Sis and I were little our family attended a little - I mean teeny tiny - country church. We sang our first "specials" there. Okay, so it was Sunday School choruses about being redeemed and how ev'rybody oughta know and I'm not even sure I knew what redeemed meant at the time I was singing it at the top of my lungs on the alter step, but I sang it anyway. 'Cuz I was cute. *wink* When I was in junior high, Dad took a songleader position at a slightly larger, but still relatively small, church in Picher, OK, his hometown. There we started singing more sophisticated songs, my favorites being Amy Grant, which every 13 year old Baptist girl adored at the time. The four of us also sang quartets from time to time. Until my voice changed. I went from singing the super high ultra soprano part to borderline bass with my father. Kind of threw off our four parts a bit.

To this day I still lean more toward alto, but if the humidity and barometric pressure is just so, if I haven't smoked in awhile and no one makes me laugh, I can belt out a low soprano like there's no tomorrow. I have no range. None. It's just sad really. If I want to sing something it pretty much has to be in one octave and that's it. So much for the National Anthem.

Why am I telling you this?

For God's sake, I don't know.

If you stumbled across this blog by way of Blog Explosion, please take the time to scroll down a bit to some earlier posts and find something a little more humorous and I dunno, meaty. Meaty? WHO has taken over my body and is making me type such crap?

I need sleep.
I smell like spit-up again.
My sinuses feel like they are stuffed full of Elmer's Glue laden cotton balls right now.
DayQuil is some pretty good shit.
I bet NyQuil is better, but I don't have any.
I pray to God above that my youngest does not have "bad dweams" tonight or wake me up to tell me she has "yucky sounds", which means her asthma is making her feel like she has a 200 pound harp seal sitting on her chest.
I hope the sun shines tomorrow. I don't think I can take another day of clouds and rain. Really.

The Diva has spoken at 10:14 PM CST
Gloom, doom, spit-up and toilet paper
Mood:  down
Topic: Rambling much
It never fails. It rains on Paul's days off every stinkin' week. And his days off aren't the same every week. It's like God looks at His great big meteorological calendar in the sky and says, "Ooh, looks like Paul's off on Tuesday and Wednesday this week - check, showers." All this does is PISS him off royally. Paul, not God. For two days now he has moped around the house and grumbled at me, yelled at the kids, and slept. Paul, not God.

I walked through the living room awhile ago and he was sound asleep, kicked back in the recliner. I just now walked through again and he was still kicked back, but awake and sulled up. "Stupidfuckingrain," was what I think came out of his half-closed mouth. We are nearly out of wood and he can't get out there to cut any. Okay, rephrasing, he won't get out there and cut in the rain. Wuss. If your family needs wood cut, you cut it. Rain, snow, sleet, or hail. Okay, maybe not hail because that's dangerous. Besides hailstorms don't usually last that long anyway - you could get a cup of coffee while you waited for it to pass. Anyway. We have decided to sell the boat and it needs to be cleaned out so we can take it down to Sis' house (she lives on a high-traffic street) but he won't go out to the barn to do that. It's cold, he says. Well, duh, it's February ya dork. It's in the barn, for cryin' out loud. But no; he, instead of doing anything halfway constructive, opts to sit in the house with me and go between cussing me like a cur dog and molesting me every time I walk by. This must be what it's like to live with bi-polarity. He is driving me fucking insane.


This morning Jill asked me if we had been talking about names during the day. I said, ", I don't think so. Why?" She laughed and said, "Oh, last night Chandler walked in the room and said, 'My babysitter's name is Kwistin. Kwistin Hoovah.' And walked back out." I said, "Oh yeah...he introduced me to several people at the grocery store yesterday, too." I don't know where he gets it. He also introduced himself AND Kady AND the baby to anyone who would listen. Jill also asked me what kind of toilet paper I use. I said, "Scott. Why?" "Well, last night he sang to me, word for word, the Charmin song from the commercial. Do you think maybe he watches too much TV?" Nah, he's just a little sponge, that's all. I shrugged and said, "I doubt he's watching to much TV. Kids will pick up anything catchy and repeat it ad nauseum. But I haven't taught it to him, sorry."

Just a little while ago I was folding laundry and caught myself singing,
"When we say less is more, less is more. More absorbent than the regular rippled brand for sure. What you used to love now you're gonna adore. Charmin Ultra - less is more. Cha-cha-cha! Charmin!" Nope, I have no clue where he learned it.


Cute baby is here again. Day #3. He's simply devourable. My sister just called and said she feels well enough that she can watch him the rest of the week. Damn her and her getting all well and stuff. Although, last night when I took off my shirt before bed, as I lifted my shirt over my head I caught a whiff of spit-up and thought, "Man, that's a smell I thought I was over and done with."


I feel the need to do a blog round-up today for some reason.
**I'm especially enamored with CrazyMom at Here Comes Life. Bless her heart, she has the flu AND a sinus infection right now and is living the life hopped up on Vicodin and Marlboros. We can't all live the dream, but she's trying.
**I finally jumped on the bandwagon and started reading Defective Yeti even though he competed with my beloved Heather B. Armstrong over at Dooce during the Blog Awards. His little Squirrelly is a year old now and his take on life, work and parenting is particularly charming.
**My friend from high school, Magnet Lady has started blogging and my gosh, if I thought she was hilarious in real life, she's dangerous on her blog. She had THE BEST bangs on high school and still continues to have my jealously when it comes to hair. She's also a pretty durn good camping partner. Ask her about it. G'head, she'd love to tell the story.
**File Girl, another Napoleon Dynamite fan, showed us the other day her skillz at paper folding. Boyfriends want girlfriends with skillz, I hear.
**I can't do a herding of the blogs without mentioning Cousin Courtney!! She can eat a pound of Candy House chocolates, works at The Big Fancy Casino, recently wrote about the perils of chin hairs and you simply must check her out. Just last night while standing in my kitchen, we discussed how to get people to comment on our blogs, while I peddled and she paid for Girl Scout cookies. (HINT HINT NUDGE NUDGE)


I just now bent over to pick the baby up out of the floor. The back of my sweatshirt raised up just enough to expose the small of my back. My dipshit of a husband, who had just come in from the nearly depleted woodpile, thought it would be mighty funny to place his cold-ass hands directly on the exposed skin. Thank God I have reflexes like fucking Superman or I'd be making a call to Cute Baby's mom trying to explain exactly how her son acquired a bruise the size of Texas on his wee little bald head.

He goes back to work tomorrow if I don't kill him first. Paul, not Cute Baby.


I just asked Chandler to sing the Charmin song for me. Oh my gosh it's cute. Kady knew all the words, too. What am I doing to these children? I've been singing "If I was a rich girl, na na na na na na nahhhhhhhh..." for the last two days. I can't wait till he goes home to sing THAT one for his daddy. We're already trying to reprogram him into saying that he's a prince instead of a princess like Kady.


"Jingle Bells, Batman smells allllllll the way!" is how Kady sings Jingle Bells now. So much for dashing through the snow and all that nonsense. We just sing about toilet paper, rich girls and super heros with hygiene issues. Yep, bring your kids to Kiki The Most Wonderful Babysitter in the Universe. I'll teach 'em up right.

The Diva has spoken at 10:16 AM CST
Updated: Wednesday, February 23, 2005 10:21 AM CST
Sunday, February 20, 2005
Sleep is good
Mood:  lazy
Topic: Rambling much
I just woke up from another 2 hour nap today. Yesterday and the day before I did the same stinkin' thing. I normally do not even entertain the thought of a nap because I tend to lean toward insomnia and naps exacerbate this problem. (Ooh, big word) But lately I have been taking naps AND sleeping at night. I guess obviously I am needing this sleep. Lately if I sit down, I fall asleep. It's not that I am having a hard time functioning or feeling particularly lethargic while I'm up and moving because I actually feel pretty good, but don't let my ass hit the chair because it's alllll over then.


I guess I shouldn't question this blessing of sleep I've been given, eh? I have gone sleepless for so long that maybe this is a gift from God for my diligence and perseverence. I am the woman who thrives on lack of sleep and I'm okay with that. I'm not sure I like the thought of actually requiring sleep now. I better stop this. This might be a sign I'm getting old. *gasp*

The Diva has spoken at 3:45 PM CST
Saturday, February 19, 2005
Funny how life does that
Mood:  special
Topic: Rambling much
Last night was the memorial service for Red, who passed away this week. They had it at his bar, which was the most appropriate place to have had such a celebration. His Marcia wasn't sure it was the best place at first, but Mom assured her that it was perfect. And it was. Helived for that place and was so proud of it.

Paul and I arrived late and when we walked in we could hear Angie, the DJ, on the microphone. She was crying and laughing and telling stories. My heart was breaking for her because when we heard the news of Red's death she told my mom "I don't know how to do this. I've never lost anyone I loved before." Bless her heart, she did an amazing job. Several people stood up to tell stories on Red, from small town friends, dance club friends, family, employees and patrons. One thing is for sure, he was loved. I wanted so badly to tell the story of Red's matchmaking endeavors, but couldn't find the fortitude to stand up there and do it.

When everyone who was going to talk had talked, Angie announced that there would be one last dance at R&B Country. Paul, even though we met dancing, isn't much of a dancer anymore. I stood up because I wanted to dance that last dance. He said no. I wasn't going to let it rest at that - I'd have danced with my mother rather than miss that. But he relented and finally led me onto the dance floor and took me in his arms.

How many dances we've danced on that huge wooden floor is unknown to me, but it's been a lot. We were there the weekend he opened, we danced when my shift was over during my short stints as cocktail waitress, we danced around the enormous belly of my pregnancies, we danced while slightly inebriated more than once and we danced our last dance out there last night.

I don't think that anyone on that dance floor was able to keep the tears from falling during that dance. Angie played one of Red's favorite songs, "I'm Already There" by Lonestar, and it just seemed so perfect. When the song was over, I left the strength and comfort of my husband's arms and made a beeline for my mother who was crying as hard as I was. We held each other as the lights came back up. We heard Angie's voice come on the mic as she called "Last call for alcohol" with a tear-choked voice. And when she said for the last time, her trademark words for the end of the night, "Time to go home ya'll. Time to go and lay naked on your own couch," that we knew it was really over and done. R&B Country was closed. Red is gone. It's the end of an era.

I saw Red's son, Brian, after the song was over. Paul and I took the time to look at some pictures they had put up of Red, Marcia, the employees, the club itself. And when we started to walk across the dance floor I saw him. I knew I had to talk to him, even if he didn't recognize me and I had to introduce myself. But no...he caught my eye about halfway across the floor and a sort of half smile broke onto his mouth. I got close to him and he held out his hand and said, "My God, you haven't changed a bit." I cried as he hugged me so tight I thought my ribs would crack. We talked awhile, he introduced me to his oldest son (who is 14 - are we really old enough to have teenagers?? Egad!) and then the conversation became interrupted by other former and present Wyandotte residents who wanted to talk to him. When we finally got a chance to talk again he told his son that I was his first girlfriend, which I'm sure his son thought was hilarious because we all know 14 year olds can't imagine their parents being silly and goofy as children. Paul and I wandered around and talked to a few more folks we knew, hugged Angie and Mom again and decided to leave.

My husband is not a publicly expressive man, not overly affectionate and not known for his ability to comfort. But he's mine nonetheless. As we stepped through the doors to leave the building I kind of slipped myself under his arm and he held me close, patting me on the arm. Then, in the cold of the night, the rocky unevenness of the parking lot and my sheer clumsiness, we kind of stumbled and staggered a bit. He laughed and said, "How many times have we staggered across this parking lot together, Kristin?" I giggled and said, "I think it was me staggering and you holding me up." He squeezed my arm again and said,

"All thanks to Red."

The Diva has spoken at 5:42 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
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. 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"?


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
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 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
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 like peeping in my windows, too. Don'tcha?

The Diva has spoken at 11:08 PM CST
Thursday, January 27, 2005
"I like your sleeves."
Mood:  silly
Topic: Rambling much
My gosh, Napoleon Dynamite gets better every time I watch it. Heather thought I was a stark raving lunatic and stared blankly at the screen and me, I'm sure wondering how the hell our parents' DNA could produce two such incredibly different people. At first I thought maybe she didn't like it, but then remembered how Paul sat there totally unimpressed through the first 30 minutes or so. I think it takes that long to get into it the first time. After she finally opened her mind and allowed herself to enjoy, she was laughing right along with me. Of course, not as hard as I was laughing, but she's only seen it once. When you've seen it as many times as I have, you start laughing at the beginning and it doesn't stop till the last game of tether ball ends. *sigh*

Tonight was Brownies. What a wonderful group of girls I have!!! What a wonderful sister I have! She got a little white cake AND a carrot cake (since I don't like white cake and icing) for me, brought it to the Brownie meeting along with 3 brand new gnomes!! One is my biggest gnome yet. The other two are actually two of my smallest gnomes. Hmh. Hadn't thought of that until now. Anyway, the girls thought it was cool that Miss Heather surprised me with all that and they sang Happy Birthday and we all ate cake. Then they made "Food People" by gluing pictures of food onto construction paper and making people out of them. Like banana arms, broccoli ears, apple eyes, etc. They dug it even if it does sound dorky. Hey, it was for a badge.

Sis brought a pot of beans down and I made cornbread. We watched Napoleon Dynamite and ate beans. It's cold outside, we were snug in my incredibly hot house by a roaring fire, all five kids were playing well (For the most part. The only fights were when my two oldest children called their youngest sister or cousins "morons" or "idiots". Public school is great.)and all was right with the world. Such simplicity, yet such a wonderful evening. It honestly doesn't get much better. Well, I could be rich and skinny...

So yeah, it probably won't get any better. And I'm okay with that.

Here's something wonderful: We are under a "Winter Weather Advisory" tonight!! Gary Bandy, the meteorologist at KSN, assures us that we are getting some kind of precipitation tonight and that quite possibly we could get as much as two whole inches of snow!!! TWO WHOLE INCHES, PEOPLE! Of course, I have become accustomed to ignoring a forecast of snow because it never happens, and didn't go to the store today. That pretty much guarantees we'll get snow.


The Diva has spoken at 11:43 PM CST

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