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The Ramblings of a Redneck Diva
Sunday, March 6, 2005
Banners and Blogs
Mood:  irritated
Topic: Things in life that suck
Oh BY THE WAY, if you've been diligently searching for my banner on Blog Explosion...well I thank you for looking, friend, but you won't see it. They denied my banner AND my blog because of pop-ups. This is what I get for being cheap and not paying for a blog.

My friend, Crazy Mom, says Typepad is wonderful and worth the money. I did a quick price comparison between Tripod and Typepad and so far Typepad is winning. If I'm going to have to pay, I want it to be worthwhile.

Any other opinions? Anyone? Anyone?


Bueller?


Bueller?

The Diva has spoken at 11:20 PM CST
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Two-stepping off into the sunset...
Mood:  sad
Topic: Things in life that suck
This evening a long-time friend of mine passed away. "Red" was the owner of the only decent country-music-playin' establishment in our town and I'd known Red since I was in Kindergarten. He was 62.

When I was in grade school, virtually my entire early grade school years, I had a "boyfriend" named Brian. Brian Highfill. I would sigh and giggle at the mention of his name. He was dreamy, that Brian. In second grade they had a Marriage Booth at the school carnival and I married Brian roughly 45 times that night. I remember walking up to Red and exclaiming that I had married his son, while I showed off my many cheap "gold" rings. I remember Red's weathered face, which was always smiling, and how he laughed at the thought of having an 8 year old daughter in law.

Red had worked for the telephone company in Wyandotte for as long as I could remember and was known all over town for his telecommunication magic. He retired last year. He could have your phone line up and running in no time and if you had problems you would call Red.

When I was 19 I moved to Stillwater and moved back home all in a month's time. A few months later I was engaged - then a few months after that I wasn't. It was a rough time for me. Rough time for my mom, too. She was newly divorced and lonely. We were two depressing ladies, lemme tell ya. Well, while I was in Stillwater she had started taking country and western dance lessons in Wyandotte at AJ's Dance Hall, which was run by Red. She was enjoying herself and I figured I didn't have anything else to do on Tuesday nights, so I went along.

Ah Red... my gosh but that man could dance. He took a very clumsy 19 year old heartbroken girl and turned her into a 2-steppin' fool on that dance floor. When I danced with Red I was good at something. He taught me to 2-step, swing, waltz and even line dance. He never chided me for not catching on to something, he was endlessly patient and could always make me laugh. I never had a partner, but always knew that at some point I'd dance with Red for a few songs anyway, I felt like a country and western princess. He was proud of my ability and wanted me to start competition dancing. But alas, no partner.

One night I walked in the door from work and heard the phone ringing. It was Red. "Hey, sis! ... You comin' to class tonight? ... Good good! ... I got you a partner...yep, a partner! ... Paul ... Paul Hoover ... yes you do too know a Paul Hoover! ... Hell, girl he's here every week! ... Wait ... Boog! ... Yeah! ... They're the same guy! Boog is Paul!" I wasn't sure about this Boog guy, but Red assured me that he was aces and that was all I needed. Good enough for Red, good enough for me.

Well, little did Red know that he was playing matchmaker that night. And exactly three months later I became Mrs. Boog. I mean, Hoover. We spent the night before our wedding with Red and our dance crowd at the dance hall and when it was time to head home he hugged me tightly and kissed my cheek and wished us both luck.

When I was pregnant with our first baby I worked as a cocktail waitress at his club. While I was working there we lost our baby. The emotion that poured from that man when someone he loved as much as I know he loved me was hurting was unfathomable. He was a kind man, but didn't like to let too many people know it. I worked off and on over the years for him and knew that no matter what there was a grey-headed old fart at that club that loved me and my husband.

Red, I love you and I know that wherever you are tonight you're dancin'.

The Diva has spoken at 11:22 PM CST
Tuesday's post-Ladies' Night Post
Mood:  hug me
Topic: Things in life that suck
[ ] I won a HUMONGOUS amount of money at the Big Fancy Casino tonight.

[X] I won a small amount of money at the Big Fancy Casino tonight.

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

[ ] I didn't win shit at the Big Fancy Casino tonight.

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

Technically, I didn't really win anything, but I left with $5 that I didn't come in with. I just cashed out with some of their money. But I stopped by the convenience store on the way home and bought Mr. Diva a can of Copenhagen, because after all, it's Valentine's Day. Then, because I am so wonderful, I gave the rest of the money to him, too. I also gave him a really cool Eskimo Joe's t-shirt today and he really liked it. Did I get anything? Guess. G'head.

NO

AND it seems that The Store finds me unemployable.

There is a reason I hate Valentine's Day and have since high school.

The Diva has spoken at 12:05 AM CST
Monday, February 14, 2005
Mannnnnnn
Mood:  irritated
Topic: Things in life that suck
Man, I hate it when you get a big ol' bag of Hershey's Kisses for Valentine's Day from your mother and you can't keep your hands out of them and like three times this morning you've managed to chew up the little piece of paper along with the kiss.

Rephrasing: Man, I LOVE it when I get a big ol' bag of Hershey's Kisses for Valentine's Day from my mother.

I HATE it that I can't keep my hands out of them.

I also hate it when I chew up the little piece of paper.

There.

The Diva has spoken at 10:58 AM CST
Saturday, February 12, 2005
I should never be allowed to handle money again
Mood:  hug me
Topic: Things in life that suck
Yesterday morning I got the kids up and off to school. Since I don't watch Chandler on Fridays, I decided I was going to just hang out in my pj's, reading and maybe taking a nap. Sis and I had tossed around the possibility of going to Joplin the day before, but didn't really think it'd happen. I had just settled into my chair at 7:45 with a Louis Grizzard book when the phone rang. It was Sis saying she could go to Joplin. Don't get me wrong, I really wanted to go, but man did that chair feel good... so I dragged myself up and slugged down the hall to take a shower. Kady didn't want her hair fixed, didn't want earrings in, didn't want to wear what I laid out, so we were later getting out the door than I had intended, but we made it. I picked up Sis, Gentry and her babysittin' baby and off we headed to Miami to get cash before we headed to the Joplin.

At the bank, I wrote a check for cash, handed it to the teller who said, "Do you know what the balance is in your account?" My heart did a little flip flop and I said, "It'd better be somewhere around $600." She shook her head and said, "No...it's in the negative." With strength comparable to what it takes to not take the last Oreo in the package, I kept the tears at bay while I told her that my husband was supposed to have made a night deposit before he went to work that morning, somewhere around 6:30am. Nope. She offered to let me use my overdraft protection and go ahead and get the cash, but I declined since I knew that that overdraft protection thing was nearly worn out on my account as of late.

Here's the story:
At the end of January I made a cash deposit of $600 for our truck payment. I didn't fill out a deposit slip because I didn't have any, but seeing as how I know all the tellers and babysit for one of the managers or whatever she is, I am like Norm from Cheers when I walk in. (Okay, I'm sure that everyone that banks at that oh so friendly bank feel that way - the girls make a huge effort to make you feel loved as you give them your money) Anyway, she just said she'd look me up by my SSN. Well, I have 2 accounts there. One is my old Pampered Chef account and hasn't been used in nearly 3 years and has a balance of $4.88. The other is our regular household account that we use too much. Guess where she put the $600. Yep, the wrong one.

NOW...had I been a good customer, responsible adult, I:
1.Would have filled out a deposit slip myself
2.Would have checked my receipt when she handed it to me.
3.Would have opened the freaking bank statement when I got it, thus allowing me to find this mistake a full week earlier than I did.

But people, we all know that I'm a dipshit and these things didn't happen.

What happens is that I get a notice in the mail of an overdraft. I grab the checkbook, everything's in order, the only thing I can figure is that a deposit was made just shortly after a check came through and that made it overdraw. I figured okay, no big, pay the $17.43 and go on. The next day - two more overdrafts. I called the automated phone line thing that could also qualify as pilates and cardio for your fingers and OH MY GOSH that $600 was not there!!!

Now, in my mind I knew I'd made the deposit. I never go in the lobby, usually I hit the drivethru, but that day I had $600 in twenties and Paul was with me, so I went inside. I visited with the teller a bit, looked at a whole roll of pictures of her new baby, etc. I KNEW I'd made that deposit. I tore my van apart looking for a receipt, which again is a testament to my irresponsibility, that was nowhere to be found. I dug through my trashcan which made me gag. I was crying. I was sweating. I was cussing. It was not pretty. So when Jill came to pick up Chandler and found her babysitter in a state of obvious mental duress, she asked what was wrong. Immediately she knew what had happened and told me how to fix it. She's a manager or some big muckity muck at that bank. I called the bank and got a service center in Tulsa. The woman was less than nice, but said she'd transfer the money right then. I asked about getting the NSF fees taken off since it wasn't my fault the money went into the wrong account. She explained that it was indeed my fault because I didn't check my receipt, etc, but I was more than welcome to speak with someone from my branch. Well, the chick that I needed to talk to was busy and the teller took my number and said she'd call back. I waited an hour and no call. Then life went on. We had slumber parties all weekend and being the irresponsible dipshit I am, I kinda forgot.

Come Monday morning we've accumulated 7 overdrafts and two checks have been returned, unbeknownst to me. But Jill asks out of sheer politleness... when I tell her that I was never called back she said, "Oh that's not right - I'll get you some of those NSF fees back when I get to work." Groovy - thank you Jill! Well later in the day I happen to call the bank's automated line again and then discover that the heifer at the service center NEVER TRANSFERRED THAT $600. I called Jill immediately and she said, "Oh now you are SO getting every fee refunded!" Then when I told her that one of the checks that was returned was to Wal-Mart where my husband is employed and if we write bad checks to them they FIRE HIM. She refunded me over $100 in NSF fees, wrote a letter to Wal-Mart explaining the whole deal and then extolled the virtues of checking your receipt which I WILL NOW DO FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE, I SOLEMNLY SWEAR.

But then on Thursday I tried to write a check to Wal-Mart and they declined my check. While I was standing in an express lane. With two kids who were hungry. With only $20 in my pocket. I had to have the cashier call my husband in the breakroom who mumbled an expletive into the phone and said he'd be up there as quick as he could. It was even more embarrassing when she said, "Hoover? Paul Hoover? Works in Automotive? I KNOW him!" Yeah, great. Glad you do. Meanwhile the line was growing behind me, full of people who were shifting from foot to foot, sighing loudly and rolling their eyes. If I hadn't been so mortified I'd have been a real bitch and said something, but as it was, I just stood there blinking back tears. Turns out he had forgotten to bring the letter from the bank to work with him that day.

(Sidenote: Two irresponsible people should never marry and have a bank account together.)

Then yesterday I got the whole negative balance again. I stormed out to my van, grabbed my cell phone and wasn't even nice when I said called the store and said, "Let me talk to Paul." I wasn't very nice to him either. He said, "Oh. I thought I'd just make that deposit after work." I yelled. I cussed. I made the kids' ears bleed with all the profanity escaping my mouth. So then I had to go to Wal-Mart, pick up the deposit and take it back to the bank and FINALLY get my money. What happened was an automatic debit came through in the midst of all the overdraftednes and I'd forgotten about it (which I normally NEVER do)and it threw us into the red again. But I made the deposit, checked to make sure the balance was positive again and finally got my cash to go to Joplin. All that for $25 in cash. Holy shit.

Add all that drama onto the fact that we are $672 over on our cash flow plan and it's been a financially horrendous week. I just wish I was luckier at the casinos. Man, wouldn't it be nice to put in $10 of their money on Ladies' Night, hit a $52,000 jackpot and live happily ever after? Hey, it's happened so I can continue to dream.

In the meantime, I'll just make sure I check my receipt at the bank. Several times. Over and over. With a magnifying glass. And a notary public.

The Diva has spoken at 10:51 AM CST
Thursday, February 10, 2005
Here's a question
Mood:  don't ask
Topic: Things in life that suck
Have any of y'all ever had problems with vertigo?

I seem to be plagued with it all of the sudden and it's starting to not be remotely amusing anymore. I mean, it never really amusing to begin with, but now I'm just tired of it.

Oh yeah and when I say "vertigo", I don't mean a retarded song by U2 where Bono can't even count right. Hmm...maybe he is the one telling the dudes teaching the financial management course what order to go in.

Anyway. The dizzy kind of vertigo...

It's been really bad. I nearly dropped Kady the other night because it hit out of the blue while I had 36 pounds of preschooler in my arms. About 30 minutes after that particular episode I ended up running to the bathroom to begin a 20 minute session of
1. bend over toilet
2. barf
3. stand up
4. get smacked upside the head with a wave of dizziness that of course leads to nausea.
Start over again with #1 and repeat five times.

It was bad. The dizziness hasn't been so bad today, but the nausea is still there.

This is how bad it is: I took a pregnancy test yesterday.

Yeah. That bad. And no, I'm not pregnant. Or at least according to the little stick that soaked up my urine then swept a pretty pink wave of color into the little windows, I'm not.

If anyone out there reading this has any knowledge regarding vertigo and the non-stop nauseousness that plagues me, I would greatly appreciate any input and help you could give. If you're just browsing through because Blog Explosion sent you my way, yet you DO have knowledge of vertigo, could you leave me a comment before you go about your merry way? I'm desperate here.

The Diva has spoken at 11:43 PM CST
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 1, 2005
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
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
I'm definitely seeing a trend here
Mood:  don't ask
Topic: Things in life that suck
This is pretty much going to be my usual Tuesday post from now on: Last night was Ladies' Night at the Big Fancy Casino. I did not win. Again.

Mom's friend, Bev, however won $500. Yay Bev!

This morning when Jill brought Chandler she told me that her husband was at home in bed sick with a stomach virus. Chandler piped in with "Yeah, Daddy poops a lot!!" Ah, preschoolers are great. Well, around noon Jill called to tell me that she, too, was sick and she was going home. But they were both so sick that she didn't feel like they could handle Chandler and could he stay. I was already planning on him being here so I had no problem with that. Then upon hanging up, I Lysoled anything she came in contact with when she was here.

I'm afraid it was too late.

I have this sicky, squishy feeling in my stomach right now. My head started suddenly throbbing earlier and I feel kinda chillish. I pray it's because I let myself get too hungry, considering I didn't eat dinner till 8:30 tonight. Plus I went to bed around 2:30 this morning. Actually the last two nights, now that I think about it. So I'm praying with everything in me that I'm just tired.

You know what it's like when one person in the house gets sick. It progresses through the rest like wildfire. Agh. I am not prepared to handle that. It's been (as I type I am knocking on wood) 3 years since I've had a stomach virus. I get pneumonia every year in January and honestly, I'd rather get pneumonia then have a stomach virus. And by the way (knocking on that wood again) I haven't had my yearly pneumonia yet.

I so just jinxed myself.

The Diva has spoken at 9:28 PM CST
Sunday, January 23, 2005
Just take your lower lip and pull it over your head...
Mood:  hug me
Topic: Things in life that suck
I couldn't tell you the last time I got a canker sore on the inside of my mouth (Duh, Diva - where else do you get canker sores?) but it's been a long damn time. It hurts.

Last night it got to be too much and I ended up pilfering through the medicine cabinet in search of the tube of Baby Orajel I used to keep in the diaper bag. It's been ages since I even carried a diaper bag, but I couldn't find an expiration date on it, so I guess it's still good.

Now I know why my children would scream uncontrollably when I'd smear that crap on their sore little gums! If you produce any saliva at all while the orajel is in your mouth (and you will, trust me) it is dispersed through your entire mouth. My tongue was numb, yet incredibly achey sore all at the same time! It was not a pleasant feeling. And forget about rinsing it out with water. Oh no, they make sure that shit stays in the mouth once it's deposited there, even if it doesn't stay in the exact spot you smear it.

Once I could sense the feeling coming back to my tongue I figured that the pain from the sore would come back as well, but fortunately it continued to numb the boo boo throbbing inside my lower lip.

Today I got smart, or so I thought, and put the orajel on a q-tip and then applied it. That didn't work. I tried it again. Still, no relief. Finally, I steeled myself for the total mouth numbing I was about to experience and squirted a buttload of that crap inside my lower lip. I looked like I had a chew in, but man I felt nothing for about 30 minutes. Nothing. I think even my knees were numbed.

The Diva has spoken at 5:26 PM CST
Updated: Sunday, January 23, 2005 5:35 PM CST
Thursday, January 20, 2005
If I were a beagle
Mood:  down
Topic: Things in life that suck
It's exactly 3:30. I'm giving myself until 4 to complete this post and then I must shower. If I tried to go to the visitation tonight in my pajamas with my hair all freaky wild like it is right now they might either mistake me for one of the bodies in the back of the funeral home, all walkin' dead and whathaveya or they might just tsk tsk and say "Hmh. We knew it was just a matter of time before she went completely insane." So I'm going to shower just to save the confusion.

My husband laid his stinkin' lazy arse in bed till 11:45 this morning. Yes, that is a mere 15 minutes until noon. He's been able to sleep lately, allllllll through the night and I haven't, but funny how he was the one who slept 12 hours in a row. Jerk. I asked him to get up with the kids at 7:30 this morning and to let me sleep a little longer. He said he'd get up "in a minute" yet after 10 minutes of the kids asking me every 30 seconds for food, I gave up waiting and got up. So after I fed the kids lunch I said, "I'm going to take a nap, k? Can you handle watching them?" He jumped down my throat in a not unlike Napoleon Dynamite fashion and said "Gaw! Just GO to BED, willya?" Dude, I SO went.

My nose and feet have been cold all day and if I were a hound, I'm sure that would be a good thing. However, I found it to be rather miserable. I crawled into that bed, pulled up the flannel sheet, thermal blanket and the comforter, drew my legs up under my chin (Yes, I'm fat but I'm still limber, ha!) and closed my eyes, waiting for the blissful slumber to arrive.

It didn't.

The house was too quiet. Now, had I been lying on the couch with the kids, watching a movie, I'd have been out colder'n a wedge in about 2.4 seconds, but noooooo, I was cozy in my bed in the silence. Not sleeping. I squeezed my eyes shut and did my total body relaxation thing that I've done since high school. I start with the toes (that were so cold they were numb) and relax them, then the feet and move up my body, relaxing everything completely. Usually I'm asleep by the time I reach the knees, that's how well it works. It worked again today and I fell asleep.

For 10 minutes.

I woke up because my nose was cold.

I have a phobia about re-breathing air. My own or someone else's, doesn't matter. I can't breathe warm, already breathed air. FREAKS me out. So I pulled the covers up to nose, then tented the comforter over my head. It kept my face warm, but still allowed for circulation of air. Not the freshest air and it wasn't ideal, but dammit I was frustrated and tired of my nose being cold.

I finally drifted off when the kids came in from outside and put in a movie. It was the quiet noise I needed. They no more started playing the theme song to Arthur and I was OUT. I slept about 30 minutes then Paul started sending children back, one at a time, to ask me questions. I told them I'd be getting up soon. I was finally warm all over and hated to get up, even if I wasn't sleeping. Then he came back there and asked "Are you gonna sleep all day?"

Oh I wish.

The Diva has spoken at 3:46 PM CST
Updated: Thursday, January 20, 2005 3:47 PM CST
Wanna know what really bites?
Mood:  down
Topic: Things in life that suck
Being so incredibly tired and emotionally drained that you want to sleep - need to sleep - BUT because you have forty gazillion things on your mind you simply can't.

I put on my comfy pj's thinking that would relax me. It did. But not enough to sleep. I put in a scary movie (The Village) thinking that would well, scare me I guess. That's twisted thinking right there. I started to doze off at the beginning because frankly, it was a real bummer movie, if you want my opinion. But for some reason now, I'm wide awake. Last night I took two herbal sleeping pills because I was drained but antsy then too, and I slept really well. I guess I'm going to have to do that tonight as well. I need some rest. It's frustrating to be this tired and not be able to close your eyes and fall asleep.

We're keeping the kids home from school tomorrow. Paul's off on bereavement leave tomorrow and Friday. The kids are out of school on Friday anyway. We have had no routine or schedule, plus they're feeling a little neglected, I think. So we're going to keep them here with us. Ab's wanting to go to the funeral and I'm very torn as to whether to let her or not. She went to Paul's grandpa's funeral, but she was 4 and clueless. It was just a day to see cousins for her back then. Now she's 8 and has a concept of death and part of me thinks that if she wants to go, I should let her. Mom suggested taking her to the visitation tomorrow night and see how she handles that. Gosh, it's hard being a parent and trying to see ahead as to what might be okay for your child's delicate psyche or possibly detrimental. Especially when your own psyche is dented and frayed a little around the edges.

I'm just so tired.

The Diva has spoken at 12:49 AM CST
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
So hard to understand
Mood:  sad
Topic: Things in life that suck
My great-uncle Homer was killed in a car accident yesterday afternoon. It's a horrible shock to all of us and we're all reeling. My great-grandparents had three kids - Leo, Homer and Edith. Leo is my Papa. He's not handling this very well, obviously. Sis, Mom, Paul and I stayed in at his house till after 10 last night just being with him and his wife. He didn't want us to go. God, it makes me so sad when my family is hurting and I can't fix it. Aunt Edie said to Mom yesterday, "You know, us three kids are all in our 80's and we've never had a fight. Leo and Homer are my best friends." Mom told us that and then asked, "Now, how many people can say that?" Sis and I looked at each other and said, "Not us." That was followed by tears.

I was having a bit of a pity party for myself yesterday afternoon anyway. I had tried to watch a movie and no one would let me. I was getting madder and madder by the minute over things that were so trivial and I was being very immature. Finally I turned off the movie, stomped off to the kitchen to start dinner. The phone rang and it was Mom. I was talking to her about how I'd applied for a job that morning and how I was confused and torn and nervous (I haven't had a job in 10 years) and then just all of the sudden she said, "Someone's here! Gotta go!" I was crushed. She wasn't paying attention to me? How dare. My already fired up temper just snapped and I slammed down the phone, ran to my bedroom, flopped onto my bed and began crying, no sobbing. Now yes, I realize I was acting like a teenager. I don't know what came over me. I was hurt, confused, angry, sad, and I couldn't stop crying. I heard the phone ring up front and I ignored it. I figured Paul or the machine would get it. Ab came in with the phone and I came very close to just telling her to take it to her daddy, but I didn't. Mom said, "Are you sitting down?" Now, normally my rather playful mother will preempt a wacky, wild and rather gossipy statement with "Are you sitting down?" Sadly, yesterday she really needed me to be sitting down because the next thing out of her mouth was the news about Uncle Homer. I cannot begin to describe how I felt at that moment. My poor mother was wracked with sobs and I hurt so badly for her at that moment. She told me everything she knew then hung up to call Sis. I went up front and fell into Paul's arms, managing to get the words out through sobs. Now, that man is not know for his compassion and sympathy, but I will have to give him credit. He was amazing. Keeping me centered, making phone calls for me, helping with the kids... I am grateful to him today. I managed to get a sitter over here, called Chandler's mom and got him taken care of and then we went to town to be with Mom and Papa.

My Papa is a very unexpressive man. I was 20 years old before he ever told me he loved me. My mother was in her 40's before he ever told her. That's just Papa. He's a kind man and very well-known in our area as a good and honest person. Makes me proud to be a Glenn. But to see my tiny, 100 pound grandfather sitting on the couch, looking every bit of defeated and just plain sad, was about all I could take. When he looked at me face-on, the tear running down his cheek just about did me in and I wanted nothing more than to just curl up in his arms and make him better. I am so glad that we were there to keep him company last night. He needed us and we needed him.

The evening was a mixture of laughter and tears. We told stories, listened to Papa tell stories and when Heather told the barrel of chicken story about Uncle Homer we all laughed then cried. We watched the news at 10 and saw what they had to say. That house was suddenly as quiet as a Monday morning church. Then we all cried some more.

Mom needs us to bring the kids in to Papa's tonight. Papa needs them. She needs them. We all need each other.

Please send our family your thoughts and prayers this week.

The Diva has spoken at 9:15 AM CST
Updated: Wednesday, January 19, 2005 9:20 AM CST
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
Well that was a sucky thing
Mood:  don't ask
Topic: Things in life that suck
I did not win my birthday $500 at the Big Fancy Casino tonight. My dreams are shot all to hell. They didn't draw anything more than the usual $500. No five $100 drawings and then a promise to draw for $500 again at 11. AND they must've tightened up all the slots with their ultra high-powered screwdrivers or something because they weren't paying SHIT tonight. Okay, well Mom's friend, Bev - her machine was paying, but from what I could tell, hers was the ONLY one. I felt a little cheated by my Big Fancy Casino experience tonight. But I'm not bitter. I really have no right to be. I plugged their money in their machine, so it's not like I'm out any money.

Friday's my birthday and I plan on playing all the free plays I can possibly manage that day, so hopefully I won't have to blog with near-bitterness then. The way I have it figured I'm going to gamble away at least $85 worth of the indian casino owners' money on Friday and that cannot be considered a bad thing.

When I left the casino I went to WalMart. Husband wussed out yet again and conveniently "forgot" to buy condoms. Now, if I were a mean woman and a particularly un-horny one at that, I'd have just been stubborn and made him wait till he grew a set and bought them himself. But a girl's got needs, too. Right?

My fear: With all this horniness running rampant in our house lately, we're going to end up with Hoover Child #4. It's happened before, folks. It took us doing everything but dancing naked in a field of corn while a fertility priestess chanted something unintelligible towards the heavens, for us to get pregnant with Ab. Then, you get a little tipsy, get a little careless once and WHOOPSIE along comes #2, aka Sam. Then, you decide to throw yourselves a housewarming "party for two" (wink wink, nudge nudge) and WHOOPSIE along comes #3, aka Kady. I'm not sure what we could blame a next one on... a bad night at the casino? That one will be precious in the baby book.

The Diva has spoken at 12:41 AM CST
Sunday, January 16, 2005
I'm Wendy, the Snapple Lady, dammit
Mood:  surprised
Topic: Things in life that suck
I'm not saying that Wendy the Snapple Lady isn't a delightful person. She seems like she'd be a hoot to take gambling, maybe share recipes with. But, let's face it - she's fat. So am I. I admit this, don't get me wrong. Yet, today when I caught the last 15 minutes of the first episode of Celebrity Fit Club on VH1, I nearly choked on a huge mouthful of chicken tetrazzini when I saw Wendy the Snapple Lady's stats. She is 5'2". So am I. She weighs the same as I do. Our mind is a wonderful thing, but just like it tends to play tricks on us when we think we hear people talking in our computers, it also makes us think we aren't as fat as we really are.

Here's Wendy


Here's me


Holy shit, I am Wendy The Snapple Lady.

Heather assures me that I am not as big as The Snapple Lady, but she's speaking with love. She says that we carry the weight differently, that's all. Two people can be the same height and weigh the same and not look the same, she says. My gosh, how I love my baby sister.

The Diva has spoken at 2:30 PM CST
Thursday, January 13, 2005
Too late
Mood:  incredulous
Topic: Things in life that suck
Turns out, whaddaya know, we DO live on Cherokee land. Stupid indian bastards.

I stopped by and visited with a friend of mine yesterday who works at Indian Food Distribution (While I was there I picked up this month's allottment of free cheese, whoo hoo!). When I told her of the fiasco the day before her immediate reaction was "BULLSHIT! You DO live on Cherokee land!" So, using her wonderful network of Cherokee Nation resources, called a friend who works at a different division of her office and this woman was simply incredulous when told that the red-headed indian woman consulted mapquest.com for her information. She then informed us that the Cherokee Nation has a full-time, paid GEODATIST. I didn't know such a person existed, a geodatist, but turns out, he's a pretty wise dude. So she put in a call to the geodatist, who then looked us up (I felt so special getting all that attention yesterday) and then emailed her a copy who then faxed and emailed a copy to my friend who then emailed a copy to me. WE LIVE ON CHEROKEE LAND!!!! Of course, we already knew this, but now we have proof. And also, of course, we already bought the tag through the state. Damn indian bastards.

The Diva has spoken at 11:41 AM CST
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
The calendar says it's Tuesday, but I think it lied
Mood:  hug me
Topic: Things in life that suck
I got in bed at roughly 1 am. I woke up at roughly 5 am. And it was roughly, to say the least. 4 hours just wasn't enough last night. I got around and started getting ready and by 7:50 my two oldest kids were safely on the school bus and my husband and I were driving down the driveway with our youngest and Chandler strapped into the backseat. We were headed out on our trip to Tahlequah to get a Tribal tag on the truck. This was the trip that was supposed to have happened last week, but we postponed due to weather that really wasn't that bad as it turned out. So we embarked on our journey armed with a bag of goodies to keep the kids occupied, a book for me to read, the truck title, the bill of sale, my blue tribal card, insurance verification, driver's license, directions to Tahlequah courtesy of my friend, The Internet, and quite possibly lurking in the backseat was a shaved opossum and four small leprechauns. It had promise of being a good trip. Knowing that, even though we were dragging 2 small children out on a cold, foggy, dreary January day, we were going to save about $800 on the truck tag can kinda make days promise good, right? Wrong-o.

Firstly, let me just say that the road to Tahlequah via Oklahoma's "Scenic" Highway 10, is an adventure in all things related to carsickness. If we had had Abby and Sam with us, there would've been barfing. And you know how well I've handled that lately. Tiff and John took the kids to Tahlequah awhile back and if I had KNOWN what that road was like, I'd have armed them with Benadryl, biohazard suits and many, many WalMart sacks to catch flying puke. Of course, they didn't barf for them - they save it for us, their parents, the ones who created them.

We drove and drove for what seemed like ages, plunging further and further into what reminded me vaguely of the scene in Deliverance where the dirty, toothless man tells the fella he wants to hear him squeal like a pig...yeah, that scene. *shudder* I was getting a bit uneasy that maybe somewhere along the way we had forgotten to turn onto an actual HIGHWAY and was just preparing myself for the tirade I was going to endure if that turned out to be the case. I kept my mouth shut though, silently worrying, biting the insides of my cheeks as I always do when I get nervous then out of the blue Paul, in the driest fashion possible, says "Ya know, this is starting to look like the part of the country where the owls swoop down and f**k the chickens." Well, I had never heard that particular colloquialism and still yet I'm not sure what would be involved in fornication between chicken and owl, but it was all I could do to not spray the drink of Coke I had just partaken of through my nostrils onto the interior of the precious new truck. When I regained composure, I said, "Yeahhhhh..." and then fell into a fit of giggles, quietly loving the redneck I married.

Fortunately we found Tahlequah, The Internet had given fine directions. Thank you, friend.

We did have to stop to get directions to the actual tag office because The Internet didn't actually know where it was, but we found it after consulting with a rather unshaven young man with a cigarette dangling from his lip. He was helpful even if he was creepy.

We drove around the whole entire Cherokee Tribal Complex That Used to Be A Motel But We Cleverly Disguised It The Best We Could three times before we found a landing strip, I mean parking space, big enough to park the yard barge we call Our Truck. Upon entering we found the tag office to be well...a motel room. I mean, it used to be a motel room but is now a rather cramped, sterile and somewhat depressing looking tag office/tax commission. I signed in and sighed inwardly at the fact that I had to flip to the second page and sign halfway down that page. But I smiled because I was thinking of all the money we were going to save with this tribal tag! We were prepared for an all-day wait, but a mere 50 minutes after I signed in, they called my name.

I handed over the title, bill of sale, blue tribal card, insurance verification, and driver's license and waited eagerly for her to announce that our tag was only going to cost us $458. Instead she frowned, mumbled something and then left her desk. She returned and then asked me where we lived, were we south and west of the Neosho River, were we closer to Miami than Fairland, blah blah blah blah. I said that yes we were south and west, we were smack dab in the middle of the two towns and I was quite sure that we were in Cherokee jurisdiction. Well, thanks to Mapquest.com (Damn you Mapquest. Damn you all to hell.) we were actually pinpointed JUST OVER THE LINE and therefore, did not qualify for tribal tags. I said that we had neighbors who had tribal tags and how could this be, I know where we live. She shrugged and said "I guess they used false addresses or something." WTH??? You just admitted that quite possibly someone frauded you, Oh Great and Mighty Redheaded Not Quite Indian Looking Tribal Tag Office Lady and you are okay with this? She then consulted with another woman who was not redheaded and actually looked indian (Not that this really matters, I just find it funny that someone as pale as her works in an office filled with dark haired, dark skinned Native Americans and sticks out like a diamond in a goat's butt, to be perfectly honest.) and the conclusion was made that indeed we were screwed. There was nothing they could do, Mapquest.com had spoken.

My face burning, my heart pounding and my anger rising, I carefully folded up all of my papers, taking extra time to fold, re-envelope, paperclip and put everything neatly back into my purse. She was rather uncomfortable with me remaining there so long and I bet she said "Have a nice day" five different times.

I waited until we left the office and were safely around the corner before I told Paul that we were leaving without a tag. Oh the explosion that occured. He called them everything under the sun, cursing my Native American heritage and probably burning holes in the ozone layer with his expletives. I was secretly admiring his ability to vent his anger. I was still fuming on the inside. And then I called my Mom. Because as you know, this is what I do in times of crisis. She declared that we DO live south and west and did I want the number to the county assessor's office so the tag people could call and find out just exactly where we live? I offered this new information to Paul, but he was so mad he simply said "F**k the indian bastards, we're going home." Yeah baby. You get 'em.

We drove home a lot faster than we drove down there. The kids and I slept. I knew Paul needed some quiet time, bless his heart.

We are now sporting a brand new Oklahoma tag on Our Truck and the great state of Oklahoma is now in possession of $1059 of our hard-earned money. I am prepared to fight when March rolls around and the tags on my van are due. I am going to have a legal, notarized description of our property, a note from my mother and quite possibly a large box of Krispy Kreme donuts to offer as a bribe and I am going to do my damn best to get a tribal tag then.

Paul is reading over my shoulder as I type and when he saw "Krispy Kreme donuts", he said "Krispy Kreme donuts my ass. You won't take donuts to them hateful indian bastards." You gotta love the fervor in which he holds grudges. It's an admirable quality. I do so love that man.

The Diva has spoken at 10:35 PM CST
Stupid gambling
Mood:  don't ask
Topic: Things in life that suck
I did not win $500 at the Big Fancy Casino tonight. Nor did I win $100. Hell, I didn't win shit tonight. I'd have counted myself lucky to have won actual shit, that's how bad it was. And the stupid electronic blackjack dealer was obviously the antichrist because that bitch took my $10 in all of 5 minutes. That was humiliating. To whom? Only to myself because I was surrounded by complete strangers and I could care less if they were watching or not.

No dead people have talked through my computer tonight. I think they are feelin' the cranky vibes I'm givin' off. I don't think they'd wanna mess with me tonight. I'd be all up in their business goin' "If you are going to talk to me E-NUN-CI-ATE, ya dead idiot." That's the kind of mood I'm in.

And I'm a horrible mother. Yep. G'head and call DHS, I'll wait while you get them on the line.

Sam fibbed and told me his throat hurt this evening. Well, I honestly never once, not for a second believed the child's throat hurt. His big sister is sick and he is wanting attention as well. He's the middle child, this is what he does. So when I was giving the girls their bedtime medicines I called him into the kitchen as well. I handed him two Motrin chewable tablets. I was going to teach that child a lesson, I was. I figured the Motrin wasn't going to hurt him and I KNOW he hates the chewable tablets. He started whining and then moved on to crying, but I was standing firm. He was going to take the Motrin if I had to make them into suppositories. So after much gagging and some weird throaty hacking thing, he got the first one down. I had to swat him twice in order to get the next one even near his mouth. Now at this point, I bet you really ARE dialing DHS and honestly, I can't say I blame you. I am evil, folks. Okay, so he chewed up both tablets and I gave him some water and walked out of the room. I no sooner got into the living room when I heard SPLAT and before I could even think about what was coming from my mouth I yelled "YOU LITTLE SHIT - YOU DID NOT JUST BARF IN MY KITCHEN FLOOR!!!!" And then he started crying. Oh but your evil commentator here didn't even feel bad. I was just pissed off to no end that he made himself throw up! I am payin' for my raisin' on that one because I was notorious as a child for making myself vomit when I didn't want to take medicine. Oops, sorry about that one, Mom. Karma's a bitch, I'm realizing that one. I walked back into the kitchen and thought that I should probably count to ten or something because I was pretty mad, but for the life of me I couldn't remember how to count. I looked down and saw a pile of barf, splattered in about a 4 foot radius and do you wanna know what I said? I said, "Did you eat green beans for lunch, son?" The child never eats green beans! I was so proud. Well, I was still mad then, but now I'm proud. So there he stood at the trash can, spitting and coughing like there was no tomorrow and I was cursing under my breath while I cleaned up the floor. I even told him that I had no sympathy for him. I reiterate, I am evil. What kind of horrible parent has no sympathy for their child when they barf??? An evil one, I'm here to tell ya. When we were both calmed down, after he had brushed his teeth and was settled in his bed, with a trashcan beside his bed (because the way my luck has gone he probably, in all actuality, has a stomach virus or something) he apologized for lying to me. I asked him if he was worth it and he shook his head no and said, "Oh Momma, those Motrin chewables are nasty! I tried to tell you!"

When it was all over with I said "Can you believe he did that?" Paul shook his head and said, "I just can't believe you called him a little shit! I've never heard you call the kids that to their face!" I felt about 2 inches tall as I took my sluggy, lowlife self out to my van and lit up my very last cigarette.

Man, it was a Monday all evening.

The Diva has spoken at 12:38 AM CST
Friday, January 7, 2005
For pity's sake
Mood:  incredulous
Topic: Things in life that suck
Today, I was sitting out here at my computer, working on my book (since I haven't in a really long time) and I thought I heard the faint sound of rain. Rain? No...we haven't had rain in ages! (Read that previous with sarcasm if you don't mind) I went outside to get wood for the fire and discovered that indeed it was raining. And icing. And snowing. No kidding - all three at once.

So much for that weather forecast that said "40 degrees and sunny" for today.

Monday it is supposed to be 65 degrees.

By week's end we are forecasted to experience the coldest temps we've had all season.

Is Oklahoma, like, God's comic relief when it comes to weather? I'm sure it gets heavy at times, bein' God and all. So He must save Oklahoma for those days when it's been really bad and depressing and then He just hits a button that throws our weather pattern into something akin to a carnival Tilt-a-whirl and laughs His heavenly head off.

The Diva has spoken at 6:33 PM CST
Updated: Friday, January 7, 2005 6:36 PM CST

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