Just Stuff.

I had today off. Two days in one week...what WILL I do with myself?

My brother came over today. He wanted me to do his taxes. He didn't do them last year either. Since he was in jail for both April 15ths...I'm not really sure if he gets a break on the extension or not. I mean...if you're incarcerated, do they allow you time with your accountant to take care of business? Martha's correctional facility obviously does, but what about dumb kids? LOL Mr. DK fixed him right up, and he's good to go. Now next semester's financial aid can be applied for and his classes for next semester will be paid for. I know my Grandmother is probably crying tears of joy right about now...

Cj (little brother) said that I should go more in depth on my blog about the dude that grabbed my chin last night at the bar, because, in his words...it's just too good of a story NOT to document.

Here goes:

So, I head for the patio to make sure all is well out there. You know...no glass bottles or glasses out there etc. As I walk by, Dude (for lack of the knowledge of his true identity) grabs my arm as I'm heading out there. I'm tall, 5'11". He's a good 4 inches taller than me. I whirl around to see him standing there grinning. The following is the rest of that conversation:

Me: What can I get you?

Dude: You.

Me: Uh huh. Since I'm not for sale, what ELSE can I get you?

Dude: Everything's got a price, honey.

Me: And see, that's not the way you should ever, EVER start a conversation with a woman. Especially when you've got hopes of seeing what's under her clothes. Not that you had a chance there anyway...so, what sort of alcoholic or carbonated beverage can I get you?

Dude: I already told you. I want you.

Me: Ok. Then, when you're ready to order, you can mosy on up to the bar and tell me what you'd like.

I start to walk away, and he takes both hands and puts one on each side of my jaw and pulls my face towards him as if he is about to kiss me. I take both hands, go up between his and break his contact with my face.

Me: You're cutoff.

Dude: Honey, I just got here. You can't cut me off.

Me: Well, if you're drunk enough to think it would be a good idea to try to kiss me, you've had enough.

Dude: You're a fuckin' bitch.

Me: And now, you can leave.

Dude: Fuck you! I'm not going anywhere!

Me: You are leaving, and NOW, you're not allowed back in this bar for 30 days, and that's pending the owner's approval. Care to keep going?

Dude: You're a hardass.

Me: Ever touch me again, and you'll find out just how much of a hardass I am.

Dude: Man. Guys...we gotta go.

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

I'll tell you the story of the dude who was trying to steal a bottle of Crown from my bar the other night tomorrow night. LOL Dumb bastards. ROFL

I went down and put 150 more dollars on Rio today. I'm so geeked. I've been only able to spend an hour here and an hour there down there, and putting actual money on him makes me feel like I'm doing a better job of actually trying to get him home.

Mimi...it's hillarious that you brought up the regurgitation thing today! After I read that, I said something to Kelly, the manager of the pet store about it. She says "He'll get there, if he hasn't already started doing it. He doesn't atually puke ON you. Ruby does. So does Simon. But, Rio just coughs it up in his mouth, then you can hear him smacking it back down. He's cool like that." A few minutes later, she goes "Like that! He's doing it right now!" I thought he was just making noises...I didn't realize that's what he was doing! He's been doing it for a few days now. Isn't that adorable?! My little schnookum's loves me!

Here's the cage I am going to get him. I got it for 275 (which is about 400 bucks cheaper than the exact same thing at his pet store) on ebay. I made arrangements with the seller to pay them 50 bucks a week.

And...I spent some time at a friend's site tonight, going through this massive list of great songs. This one, I'd never heard before. It's a beautiful song, she's got a pure voice, and she's just the sort of chick that the closet freak in him would find absolutely adorable. LOL Anywho, here's the video in Windows Media and Quicktime. Her name is Bonnie McKee, in case you've never heard of her before. This is a great song. I can relate to this song very, very well.

Goodnight!

And...ps. I'm reading your blogs, I swear I am. If I didn't comment, I will get to it, I swear I will.

sdk

Men Are Dumb.

Ok. Maybe not ALL men. I've known quite a few intellectually stimulating males in my time. Hell...most of the intellectually stimulating men I've met, hold a dear place in my heart. My dad...freakin' brilliant. There's a few others that have tickled my wit-fancy too.

But...they are not whom I'm speaking of. I am talking about some of the dipshits that frequent the bar I work at. For instance...Greg. Greg (whom I've just met for the first time tonight) has proposed marriage. It matters not to Greg that I already have a rock on my finger.

Here's a snippet from that conversation:

Greg: Damn. You're sexy as hell. Will you marry me?

Me: No.

Greg: You're not even going to think about it?

Me: Nope.

Greg: I'm a catch. Really. But I wouldn't let you work in a bar.

Me: Huh. Ok. First of all...I'm married to someone already. Second of all...he doesn't LET me do anything. I do what I do. He does what he does. And...sometimes, we do it together. I don't know what third world country YOU'VE been living in...but it is possible to have breasts AND a brain of your own.

Greg: Well, there's no reason for you to get all bitchy. Sheesh.

Me: I'm not bitchy. This is me telling you the way it is.

Greg: Ok. Cool. So when you get unmarried...think of me.

Me: Yeah, that's probly not going to happen either.

Greg: Why not?

Me: What makes you think that I'm going to go through a divorce and decide I want YOU?

Greg: Well, why wouldn't you?

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

See where I'm coming from? What would make him think that I'd come a runnin' the second my heart was broken for him (the drunk at the bar who doesn't even tip) to mend? Good Lord. It makes you wonder what sort of contamination his Gene Pool contains, doesn't it? And the saddest part of this little exchange is that it was one out of three conversations to night just like it.

First, I'm not that cute. I mean, I'm alright, but I'm almost 30 for crying out loud, and I've had 3 kids. Second, do they really assume that every chick in the world is hot for some drunk she just met at the scary bar in Michigan Center?! Uh....no. And third, why do they think it's ok to TOUCH me when they're talking to me?! One of the morons (not Greg) actually grabbed my chin and try to pull me close to him. I don't know his name, but I did cut him off and throw him out of the bar tonight. I'm She-Ra The Bartender: Fighting Wannabe Cassanova's One Drunk At A Time!

Spent some quality time with Rio today. He was sortof a little prick today. Rio's got a crush on Luanne, who is a staff member at the pet store. (For those who don't know...Rio is my Macaw that I'm slowly but surely working and paying off. There are pictures of both him and Ruby, his cell mate in the previous post) Anywho, when Luanne comes around, Rio gets all confused as to who he loves more. Since he's known Luanne longer, Luanne wins out every time. So, he gets all pissy with me and begs to be put on his cage. I thought this would be a good time to command him to step up from the cage on me, while she was standing there. Test his ability to listen and perform...right?

Rio reaches out and tries to bite me. I said "Rio goes to jail. NO BITING." And opened his cage and told him to get in. He looked at me for a second to see if I was serious. I was. I started shooshing him in with my body. When he gets to the side by my head, he looks at me, gets all exasperated and holds out his leg as if to say "Fine. You get your way. I'll step up. I don't want to go to jail." LOL. This right here is the key to training him. Take his shit, and he'll run all over me. When I don't take his shit and he actually has to do what he's told, he slowly but surely comes to terms with the fact that in his world, I'm God. And, in the end, I'll end up with an awesome bird!

sdk

Catch-Up!

Hi Everyone! I am so behind in my blogging and computer world...it's not even a little funny.

So much to update on. Where to begin seems to be the question!

Today was my first complete day off since I started working at the bar. And boy, did I need it. Yesterday I was supposed to be off, but at 6:30 she calls and says in her most pleading, whiny voice..."I don't feel good, or I would work. Could you maybe, pretty please come in?" I said, "When do you need me there by?" She says "Is 7pm to soon?" HA. Yeah it was too soon. I was wearing leggings and a huge sweatshirt, hadn't bothered to do anything with my hair or face after getting out of the shower, so it was still in a wet pile on top fo my head, and 50 percent of my day was spent on me shamelessly wasting away in the recliner. I told her I'd be there by 8:30. So...I got out at 4am on Tuesday morning.

Mr. DK found a job. I think he starts Thursday. Tomorrow morning he has to go in for a pre-hire drug test, but since we're not really druggies...that shouldn't be an issue. (If it is an issue...you'll be seeing a follow up divorce post in a few days after the results come in!) I have no idea what he's going to be doing, but I do know that the company he's working for manufactures and installs home siding. Whatever. I'll live with it. I'm a happy camper so long as I don't have to bear the entire burden of bringing home the bacon.

Speaking of bacon...I've found a new place for my extra tips to go. Believe it or not, I've made a very decent amount of money the last week. If I continue my progression into the badass bartender I know I can be (think Coyote Ugly again...lol), I shouldn't have a problem bringing home 5-600 bucks a week. I think so far I'm at like 450 and I've still got another night to go, one that is generally busy with pool leagues and karaoke geeks. LOVE those karaoke geeks, man. I mean, I used to be a karaoke geek...but I didn't know that it was part of the trend to order 6-8 dollar per glass drinks and tip the hell out of your bartender. This is a happy, happy deal.

Anyway...where the bacon's going. One of my regulars (notice how they're now MY regulars, not the bar's regulars. I've earned the right to call them MY regulars because she works me to damn much!) owns the pet store where I buy all of Murphy, Lily and Hagrid's food, toys and treats. We got to talking about birds one night, and I told her about Toby, my deceased Cockatiel who was the love of my animal life for 12 years until he finally gave in to old age. Anyways, she tells me that she's got a Military Macaw that's been in her store for 3 years. She needs to sell him to a home, but he's a VERY expensive bird (1400 bucks in my world is expensive) and she's having trouble finding a buyer. But...to get other birds in, she's got to sell him. He beats up on the other birds. He needs someone to work with him regularly, but...she's willing to pay me for working in her store on my off hours per week by giving me 10 bucks an hour towards the bird. Basically, she gave me 14 weeks to work him off. Then, he comes home with me.

In the past week, since I went down and met him, he is literally all I think about. His name is Rio. He's 3 and a half years old. He's stolen my heart (and a few buttons and earrings). The first day, he bit me. I don't know if you've ever spent any quality time with a Macaw, but they are not little birds. Look at your index finger. From top to bottom. That is the size of Rio's beak. He is a big, big boy. When he bites, he's not kidding. They've been known to break fingers, grind bone and to not feel a bit sorry about it.

Day two went a bit smoother. He was doing "step-up" commands for me. Day three, he was preening my hair. Day four he wasn't even trying to nip me, and today...today was the best of all days.

Today I went in, walked to his cage and he says "Hey Mama!" I said "Hi Rio! Have you been a good boy?!" (all in baby talk. He LOVES baby talk. So much so that he blushes and his cheeks turn bright red when you baby talk to him.) He nods his head, comes right out and hops onto my arm. I took him in the back today for some one on one time. He's got a cell-mate that is named Ruby. She's a green-winged Macaw. And, she's the daughter of Satan, I swear to you. She'll lure you over with sweet talk, hold out her paw for you to shake and then take a massive chunk out of your hand. This hasn't happened to me, but I watched it happen to an unsuspecting customer. She won't be finding a home soon unless she learns to curb that nasty attitude.

Anyways...we were in the back room and I read in this book I bought that the way to approach petting your Macaw is to gently blow their feathers up. It stimulates the shaft of the feather and feels good. So, I did this. Rio out of the blue says "Whoooooa Baby!" LOL

When I went to put him in his cage, I decided to try a game the book suggested. Peek-a-Rio. I hid my face behind his food service door, and said "Where's Rio? Where's my Rio?" Just as I was about to say it for the third time, he swung his head down by the door and said "Here's Ri-Ri!" LOL

I came home and told Mr. DK that I am officially having an affair with another male. I freakin' LOVE that bird. So, basically, what I'm going to try to do is to keep my tips, and apply them to him, so as to not have to work so much, and to leave me available to actually go down there and play with him and work with him, instead of working around him and becoming just another staff member that he can take advantage of.

Well...now I have to go catch up on all of your blogs. I am hopelessly behind!

I miss you guys!

sdk

Just a Quick Update...

It is 4:35 am, Monday morning. I JUST got freakin' home. This two jobs shit is for the birds! LOL

Truthfully, it's not bad. The bar is fun, my real job is challenging. It's a nice balance. Now, if I could only find the time for my family, it would be perfect. Our money problems are finally getting in check. I'm making awesome tips. Hell...I just worked a Sunday night and made almost 100 bucks. That's a good deal.

I will try to make time at least a few times a week to write. I love blogging too much to give it up. But...I'll be honest with y'all...I'm exhausted. Since I started Wednesday, I've worked every single day or night since then...sometimes both. That friends, is called "being taken advantage of". I'm going to have to sit her (her being my new boss) down and explain the advantages of giving me a day off. Like for instance...if she gives me a day off, I'll have a day to relax, thus pushing back the day I'm so burned out that I say "Fuck it." at least by a couple of months. One day a week is all I'm asking for. Sundays would be a good day for this.

Ok...Anywho. I'm alive and kicking. I'm going to go, because Mr. DK has a job interview at 8:45am, and I'll be expected to be up and taking care of numbers 2 & 3 when he leaves.

Goodnight!

sdk

I Was Tagged!

Midwest Hick of Random Ramblings (and if you haven't checked out his blog yet...you must. Simply must. He's freakin' HILLARIOUS.) has tagged me. He said it was because. LOL

So...a taggin' we will go.

Three Random Facts About My Closet:
1)There's no hangy bar thing. So...all my stuff's in Logan's closet. How much closet space does a 6 month old need anyway?
2) There IS a bookshelf in there. Filled to the gills with true crime, John Grisham, James Patterson, John Sanford and everything Vonnegut ever put out.
3) While there's no hangy thing, there is a floor. So, there's 30 pairs of shoes lining the bottom. Yes they're all mine. I don't share my closet. Period.

Three Items I've Never Worn But Still Haven't Tossed:
1)This FUGLY coat my Grandma thought was beautiful, thought of me and bought. I'm sure it was, in 1981.
2) A pair of Dolce and Gabana sandal-heels. I wear a size 11. No...I'm not a sasquatch. They are size 10, and since I could squeeze my skis in them, AND they were on sale, I bought them. It didn't save them from hurting like hell.
3) My mother's nightgown. She was in it when she died. I can't look at it, but I can't throw it away either.

Three Items I'll Never Get Rid Of, No Matter How Ugly They Get:
1) My adidas cross trainers. The most comfy shoes on the planet.
2) My Central Michigan sweatshirt. It's stolen, from someone who got it from lost and found, and regardless of how ugly it is, it's the most comfortable damn thing I own.
3) A pair of my brother's boxers. He left them here, they're mine. They go great with the Central sweatshirt.

Three Items People Wouldn't Expect To Find In My Closet:
1) An adorable turquoise blue strapless dress with a lime green bow around the waist. I freakin' love that dress. And when I wear it...I look like a girl. Go figure.
2) All of my undies make a statement. The one's I'm wearing right now say "Bad Kitty."
3) My old cheerleading uniform. I completely forgot I had it until I was rumaging around in my parents attic. It still fits! LOL

Three items that made me go, "Oh Lord, what was I thinking?":
1) My "I like your boyfriend" t-shirt.
2) My "Porn Star In Training" t-shirt
3) A pair of snake skin pants. Cute as hell...WAAAAAY too tight.


Three things that I have a surprising number of:
1) Socks. I have SO many socks.
2) Tops. The Tops vs. Pants ratio is like 10:1.
3) Purses. Those line the top half of my closet. When you get a new purse, it just sets your whole week right.


Three dominant colors in my wardrobe:
1) Jean.
2) Jean.
3) Jean.


Three items that never fail to put me in a good mood whenever I wear them:
1) That turquoise dress I mentioned earlier.
2) My black "hooker-heels" as they're affectionately called.
3) My favorite pair of Todd Oldham jeans. No jean has ever fit so perfectly.


Three people I will tag (or throw under the bus):
Cheryl...I'm just interested.
Max...I want to see what he comes up with. Men always have great answers to this shit.
and...
Since the person who DID this to me is Mike...(Oh...your evil retribution hasn't even begun to happen. It'll happen when you least expect it...LMAO) I guess I will go with...
MadMunkey.

Cheers!

sdk

Not Exactly Coyote Ugly...

First and foremost...thank you for all the kind words of hope and support for my marriage issues. I very much appreciate knowing that I can come here and be surrounded by friends who take the time to understand...and really that's exactly what we've built here over the past few months, huh? A big ole' group of friends? I'm absolutely loving it. Thank you.

So, the bar experience isn't exactly Coyote Ugly. Welllll...let me rephrase that. The bar itself isn't exactly Coyote Ugly, however some of the patrons could absolutely earn that compliment all on their own.

I had fun. A lot of fun, actually. Tonight was my first night of work. I made really decent money for hanging out at a bar for 4 hours, and it didn't suck at all. After I was done working, I ordered some fries and sat at the bar eating them. Two of my highest tipping customers swarmed in on me...while I was eating. Slurring in my face...you know how drunks do. Anyways, the one on the left of me reaches around and puts his arm around me. Now...keep in mind that dude has already asked me four seperate times if he'll have a chance to take me out. Each time, I show him my ring and explain that I'm married. So...now he's sitting next to me, breathing on my french (or do you prefer freedom?) fries and has slipped his hand down so that it rests on my ass.

I make a point of craning my neck around to look at his hand on my ass. I said "Would you prefer to remove your hand from my ass or for me to remove your hand from your arm?" LOL

I think that might severely deduct any future tips that dude might give me. I don't think he was a regular though...

On an upnote, Mr. DK went out looking for jobs all day today. Got a couple of good leads. He's got two interviews tomorrow, and I think I've got him coached on what to do when he gets there. His moping isn't going to cut it if he actually wants to be employed.

Instead of writing a comment on Cheryl's Blog: Hildebrand Road to her post regarding Sweetie Pie and trading his daddy in...I thought I'd just go ahead and brooch the subject here. Bop on over and read the post entitled "Dad" and when you're finished (and check out the rest of her blog too...she's a phenomenal writer) come on back and read this part of this post...

Cheryl...I've told you over and over again how it sounds like you're raising a great little man. The conversation with him that you shared with us just drives that point home 1000 fold. You're handling the situation the best way you could possibly. He has a strong relationship with you, with God and nothing, not even the harshness of his father will change that.

You never have to tell the kids what you really think of their other parental unit. You don't. Because they need to learn it for themselves, otherwise you risk contaminating their thoughts and their feelings with your own. And, that just breeds contempt that you're going to deal with down the road. SP (Sweetie Pie) already knows what his dad is. The key to dealing with it now (in my humble opinion) is that if the court says he has to go, he has to go, but encourage him to use all he knows about love and good and God when his dad is being harsh. What counts for him or at least what will count for him at the end of his childhood is that he was the best boy he could be during any and all circumstances that his father threw at him. If he can say that he did everything in his power to try to carry on his goodness, then its not his loss. It's his daddy's. Sooner or later, his daddy will learn that too, but if he's anything like my Ex, it will be in his late 80's as he's reflecting on what he should have done and could have done but didn't.

We have to just encourage them to be strong, not sway from their beliefs, to stand firm in their convictions, and that giving love doesn't always mean getting it back in return...no matter how hard we want it or try. It's a rough lesson for a 6 year old to learn. I know. I've been there, and now my oldest child (who you know is also 6) is there.

I think that your new poster (forgive me for being too lazy to go look up his name) has the right idea. Some kids are just lucky. They get their real daddy, their Creator AND a new daddy. When you meet that person...things will just fall into place and you'll know it.

Forgive me if I sound to "soap-boxish". I have some experience here. Surely our Ex's differ in a lot of ways, but it doesn't sound to me like they differ too terribly much.

And...of course we have that "great kid" thing in common!

Hugs.

A Semi-Agreement Has Been Reached.

Today has a few interesting points. I'll go with the chronological version of what happened.

I got a job. I accepted a job as a bartender for nights and weekends at a pub (read: hole in the wall) that gets more business than any bar should for its size. I talked with the bartender that was on and he said that he never leaves on any week night with less than 75 bucks, plus his hourly rate. He said on the weekends, it's not uncommon for him to rake in 150 in tips, and as he put it...LMAO he's not nearly as cute as I am. So, I should do ok. They've got either a DJ or karaoke 7 nights a week, plus there's pool league on Wednesday, Thursdays and Sundays. I'll never work a day shift (mainly because I already have a job), and my hours will run from 7-3, though on some nights I may get to leave at midnight or 1, depending.

I actually think it might be fun. I'll work 4 nights a week...Wed, Thurs, Fri and Sat...which of course are the nights that I'd rake in the most tips anyway. I can live with this arrangement. It leaves me free for the days to work at the Org, and I'll actually have a paying job on the side. Plus...winters are usually not as busy for us anyways. It seems like criminals seem to work most during the warm months. There's your occaisional missing person during the winter months...don't get me wrong. But, not in the volume that there is in the spring and summer.

So, I get home and I say to Mr. DK: So...I got a job. I start tomorrow. Finally, I'll be able to help with the income. He says "Great." That was it. No questions...no nothin.

So after Law and Order tonight (I'm SUCH an addict) he makes some smart ass comment. I can't even remember what he said. So, finally...I just laid it out for him. I'll try to recollect the conversation as best I can. (Warning: It's long and I was pretty pissed.)

Me: What the FUCK is your problem? Do you think I don't know what's going on in that head of yours? If you want a divorce, you're going to have to come out and ask for it. I'm not doing it for you. If you don't want to be here, then don't. But...quit taking your shit out on me and the kids. If you want to waste away in front of the TV for the rest of your life, be my guest, but don't come crying to me later that I wasted YOUR life. Because that's not how it is. You seem to think that all the problems we've been through, all the mountains we've had to climb are my fault. I am here to tell you that sometimes, things just happen. They aren't anyone's fault. And the rest...those belong to both of us. I know you feel inferior. I know you are depressed. I know you feel overweight. I know that it's been rough. I'm not mad at you for feeling the way you do about it. What I'm mad at is your lack of ambition to do anything about it. So there it is. What are you going to do to fix it?

Mr. DK: Stares at wall. For a good 10 minutes. He said NOTHING.

Me: If you think you're going to slack through this conversation and not at least come to an agreement on what the hell we're going to do...you're out of your mind. If that's the way you wanna handle it...I'll take the kids and go to Sue's.

Mr. DK: Why do you threaten me with that? Why do you think you can just walk out of here and take the kids?

Me: Oh...it's not a threat. If I go, they're going with me. That's just the way it is. The question is, is it necessary?

Mr. DK: ((Grimace. Stares at the wall some more.))

Me: Jas...do you want to be here or not? That's what I need to know. Either you want to, or you don't. But, if you intend to stay, some stuff needs to change. You need to drag your ass off the couch and find something to do that makes you happy. I'd start with getting a job. I figured that me getting one would make you ecstatic. I'll probably bring in enough to pay our rent and utilities. You get one and the rest is cake. Then we need to work on us. If we're not going to at least try to make each other happy, then we need to just stop. I don't want to hate you, but this is reminding me a lot of my last marriage towards the end. I don't want us to hate each other. We can't let it get that far. If we're going to end it, we need to do it while we're still friends.

Mr. DK: I don't want out. I don't know what I want. I don't know how to make myself happy. I just know that it's not happening now. I don't like being a dickhead all the time. I love you, and I love the kids. I do. You must know that I do. I just can't seem to get out of this mindset.

Me: Well...then let me help you. Let me help you work towards those goals. Do you want to see a counselor? We could see a marriage counselor together...or you could see a counselor on your own.

Mr. DK: Do you think it'd help?

Me: I don't know. I know it's expensive. But...worth it if it saves us from another day like any of the past 6 months.

Mr. DK: What do you want to hear?

Me: It's not ABOUT what I want to freakin' hear, Jas!

Mr. DK: Well, you want me to make you feel all warm and cozy inside, and I don't know what to say that will make that happen.

Me: It's not what you have to say that's going to count anymore. I've heard you over and over again tell me how you're going to do this and that, and then watch the good idea crumble into oblivion and never see the light of day. You're going to have to prove it with actions. Plain and simple. I've put 4 years into this relationship, and into you. Now, I want some return on my investment.

Mr. DK: Ok. I'll try. I can promise you that I'll try to be more of who I was when you met me.

Me: Ok. I can live with that. Do I have the freedom to call you an insufferable bastard when you're acting like one?

Mr. DK: Have you ever held back before?

Me: Good point. Ok. Good. We can build on this. But...this isn't one of those conversations where you get to wake up tomorrow and forget we had it. If you don't work on it, it will keep coming back to bite you in the ass, and we will end up hating each other. You know that, yes?

Mr. DK: Yes. I know.

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

So...that's where we ended it. That's not verbatim, but I think I got all the points in that were stressed. I'm happy with the fact that at least I can return to my bed tonight. My shoulder's freakin' killing me.

If he doesn't buck up...I'm not sure how much more of this I can take.

sdk

THIS is what I'm talking about.

These people are morons. What you see here is a mother and a father, with their young child walking along a jetty as Hurricane Rita approaches.

These are the people who need to have the sense smacked into them. And...they should be charged with blatant child abuse for willingly and obviously placing their young child in harms way.

sdk

"When We Split Up, Will You Keep the Computer Or the DVD's?"

Since he won't talk about it, refuses to understand why I'm upset, and is being a class A prick, he deserves for me to write about it. And, as always, I'll feel better if I do.

I'm pissed, no...scratch that, profoundly hurt by Mr. DK. It's a bit of a long story, but I'll lay it out as best as I can.

Over the past few months, he's been coming up with some interesting comments. Comments that by themselves could sound like he's kidding, but when you add them all up, generally should mean that he's actually given some serious thought to the matter.

Some of the comments are as follows:

"When we split up, will you keep the computer or the dvd's?"
"After the divorce, we'll have split custody, so there won't be any child support for either of us."
"When you leave me, the only way I won't sue for custody is if you don't go back to him."
"Your dad will still talk to me after we part ways. He loves me."

You know...that kind of stuff. Slipped into a jovial conversation when you're least expecting it. It wasn't until yesterday that I finally connected the proverbial dots and figured out that he was freakin' serious.

This is more info than y'all probably want or need to know. So, if you have an aversion to things sexual, quickly spot the red x at the top right of your screen. Come back tomorrow. Maybe I'll talk about Disney World or something then.

So, yesterday, the kids are taking naps, it's quiet. I'm feeling a bit...uh...needy. Not like "Hold me." needy. Like "Gonna need it right now." needy. So, he was upstairs doing something, and when he came back down, he was presented with a naked me, being all loveable. I was workin' it.

Do you know what he said? He actually said "Yeah...not now. I don't feel like it." I said..."Huh. Really? Cause I'm feelin' it." He said "Nope. Not at all. Put your clothes back on."

I just sat there, comletely exposed, stunned. He said "What? Now you're going to be all mad and pissy?" I replied "Nope." He said, "Whatever. Fine. Here." and started very angrily ripping off his clothes. I said "Uh...tempting, but I think not." and got up very angrily to put some clothes back on.

Then I got to thinking about it. All the things he's said over the last few months. All the romance that has been lacking, all the crankiness he's spewed for the last six months. I came to the conclusion that he's serious. He's freakin' serious. He's thought a lot about what would happen if we got a divorce, because he's actually envisioning it. He's seeing for himself how it would be, how it would work out, what to do with the kids, and he knows that the person I'm closest to, the person I had always dreamed of marrying is still yet unhitched, and he knows that it's a threat to him because he's saying that if I were to go there, and try to make something of it with that person, he would actually try and fight me for the custody of my boys.

But, here's the fun part. He's a pussy. He won't do it. He wants me to do it. He wants me to ask for the divorce, so he's going to be a miserable SOB until I do. He knows that would rip me apart worse than anything else. He knows that for me to ask for the out would destroy me. So, here we are, in a deadlock. He's putting the ball in my court so that I have to make a move.

I haven't talked to him, really since yesterday when all this happened. He has tried to talk to me here and there, but I've given him short answers. He knows damn skippy how much he hurt me yesterday. I know he does because he's half walking around here with his tail between his legs and half trying to remain somewhat cocky, as if he's trying to remember that this is part of his little game.

A little earlier he asked me what was wrong. I told him that I have a pinched nerve in my shoulder, which, by my calculations is his fault since he's a dick and I had to sleep on the couch so as to not be near him. (I'm a bitch. This is me, for better or worse.)

He said absolutely nothing in return. So, finally, I said "Do you have any idea how badly you hurt my feelings yesterday?" and he said "Why? Because I wouldn't have sex when YOU wanted it?" I said "Are you freakin' kidding me? It goes WAY beyond that." And he says, "Well, I don't know what you're so upset about. It's your problem." I said "Huh. Well, if you don't know what I'm upset about, then it's not even worth having the fucking conversation. It wouldn't do any good anyway."

So, that's where we're at. I'm wondering what's going to happen, and he's being the biggest dick he can be so I'll speed it up.

And...here's the problem. Even if he did decide he wanted to go right now...where the hell would he go? He's been layed off since the week after Logan was born. I'm about to have surgery (which I finally have confirmation we'll be scheduling on the 29th. If God loves me...it'll be next month), I am going to have to get a day job that pays me (which I truly don't have time for) and there's just all these little things that make it so this is not a good time for him to decide he wants to go live the life of a bachelor.

So, there you have it. Just when you think things can't get worse, you're proven wrong.

That's what I'm all bejiggity about.

sdk

Katrina Hits Land

I don't know who deserves credit for these photos. The president of our board of directors sent them to me, and I couldn't resist posting them for you to see too. For something so terrifyingly horrible, it sure is beautiful, isn't it?

I Am Feeling Better. Thanks, Max.

I definitely am feeling better. So much so that I haven't puked once in the last 48 hours, and I think we can all agree, that's just good stuff.

Today was a long, long day. I'm struggling with whether I want to just come out with it already and post it, or if I want to live in denial for a little longer before purging it from my head and heart, thus making it real. The jury's still out on what to do with the whole situation, so I think I'll just wait it out and see what happens before sharing the whole God-awful story.

I generally get through stuff that hurts and stuff that sucks by working my little heart out. Tonight, I went on a power cleaning tour around my home. My diningroom is completely moved around. My home office area is in a completely different spot. Every dish in the house has been cleaned (whether it needed it or not) and I'm feeling at least satisfied with the cleanliness of my house if nothing else.

I do really need to file...but since that is hands down my least favorite chore at home (and at the office, for that matter), I think I'll be procrastinating that task until tomorrow. Believe it or not, I still have crap in boxes that needs to be filed, from the move two months ago. Filing is not my idea of a good time, I don't care how many cool little color coded tabs and funky markers I have to do it with.

I ended up going out with Megan for a while last night. That was fun. We ended up going down to the Irish Pub that's about a mile from here and talking for a while. Well...the intention was to talk, but they had karaoke, and since I'm a karaoke whore, I just couldn't keep myself from partaking.

While we're on the subject of bars, I've got a question for my dear, sane readers. What is UP with the bar sluts nowadays? Last night, there's this girl. She can't be more than 21/22 at the most. She is out there on the dance floor with a different guy each time shaking her shit like she's a stripper. Envision this with me, if you would. Long dark hair. Decently pretty face. Tube top in fuschia that only covers her breasts. Mini skirt that you can literally see her ass in. More than a handful of flubber hanging over the top. She wasn't a fat girl, not really, but she obviously gave birth sometime in the last year and should be a little self conscious of the clothes she wore her freshman year of high school. I ask you, why? Why on Earth would any self respecting girl get out on a dance floor and dance the way she was (serious humping moves. There's no other way to put it...the girl was having her way with an imaginary person both in front of and in back of her)? It was rather disgusting. Yet, she was comfortable enough that she was doing it, and confident enough that every 12 beats or so, she'd slap her ass and run her finger from her mouth all the way down between her breasts touching herself. I'm thinking the girl needs to empty her porn stash into the garbage and start hanging out with real people so that she can see what's expected of her in society. Ewww.

Well...that's it for tonight. I'm gonna curl up on the couch and read until I fall asleep.

Goodnight!

sdk

Dang. I was wrong.

Hey Mr. New Jersey guy. Yeah, you holding the winning 250 million dollar Mega Millions ticket. Great. I've got your attention. What I'd like to say to you is that if you need any creative ideas for how to use any of the money that you're now sitting on like Scrooge McDuck, I've got a couple.

Just let me know if I can be of assistance. My consulting fees are minimal. Well...when you have 250 million, they're minimal.

sdk

Blah Blah Blah

I would like to tell you about the day I should have had. I should have gotten up nice and early, went jogging (or something equally stimulating), come home, had a great cup of hot coffee and a cinnamon roll. From there, I should have gotten dressed, applied make-up, and rolled my hair. I then should have left for the office for a challenging day of work. I should have taken and made calls from colleagues and families all day long. I should have had a yummy salad for lunch. After work, I should have come home, changed my clothes, and taken the boys to the Y. Then, I should have come home all tired out, to a crock-pot casserole of some sort. Then, I should have watched movies on TV, and then went to sleep.

None of this happened. Well...the movies happened...but nothing else that was in that absurd paragraph.

Shortly after I wrote the last post last night to tell you I felt pukey and was going to bed, the feeling pukey turned into actual puke. For 4 1/2 hours straight, I did nothing but hurl and attempt to hurl when there was nothing left to hurl. This is disgusting, I know. However, misery loves company, so that's why I'm telling YOU about it.

For the entire day today, all I've done is lay on the couch, with a large bucket at my side. I stayed underneath my big fat comforter, with my head perched on my pillow. I barely ventured to the bathroom to pee. (I know there's some lame rule that chicks aren't allowed to actually SAY they pee. But, since I'm not big on etiquette, I'm gonna come right out and say it. I pee. Usually a few times a day. I'm not telling you because I want you to actually THINK of me peeing...that's not it. I'm telling you more so that you'll know that the whole lame rules of etiquette deal really doesn't fly right with me. )

Anyways, point is I'm sick. Thanks to you guys who commented for me to feel better. That was very, very sweet to read. I really need to get this crap (crap being cancer and fibroids) out of me so that I can feel normal again. I am to the point that if we don't get it out sooner than later, I'm going to have quite a little tantrum at the doctor's office next time I see him. Bastard. Like I give a shit that's he's heading to Australia for the first time for two whole weeks in October. He may think that I would think it's cool...but instead it made me think he's a spoiled rotten rich boy with little to no compassion whatsoever for his patients. I mean, at least LIE to me. Tell me you're going to someplace boring for two weeks to learn better hysterectomy techniques that you'll use on me when it's surgery time. Yeah...that's a lot better than hearing about Australia and the Outback. Jerk.

Speaking of spoiled little rich boys...the Mega Millions is up to 250 Million dollars. Oh yeah. I bought tickets. Oh no...I didn't win. But...neither did anyone else. One person won 250,000. That's cool. Hell, I'd be quite happy with that. But, what it means is that it's probably going to go up another 20 mill by Tuesday.

Let's explore for just a second, what I would do with $270,000,000.00. First of all, my Daddy would be all done working. He'd have a nice place on his favorite lake to while away his time on the badassed fishing boat I bought him. He and my step-mom would have all the money they could ever need or want. That's step number one. Step two...no one I know would ever have to worry about cash flow again. Step three...the org would be set. No more budget worries for us. Step four...I'd buy land. A lot of it. The biggest chunk I could find, and I'd fill it with horses and animals that make me and the boys happy. Yeah...I'm gonna win. I can feel it.

When I do...I'll give awards for best posts on your blogs. LOL Lucrative cash benefits to those who make me smile every day.

And, since we're playing follow the train of thought...speaking of those who make me smile...I read Max's blog today. The post for September 16th has got to be the sweetest, coolest thing I've read in a long time. Max...how much you love your wife...now THAT'S sexy. I read it earlier and Mr. DK says "What are you awwing about?" I said, "Max. He calls his wife Biscuit. As in hot buttered biscuit on a cold winter's day. See....this is what I'm talking about. THIS is what I want." He says "I'm not reading it. Tell Max thanks for getting me in trouble." Ha! I didn't snap at him or anything! I just said, I want what Max's wife has. Not the man, mind you (no offense, Max...LOL) but the love he has for his wife.

Mr. DK and I are not schmoopy. You'll rarely see us holding hands or snuggling. We don't really have pet names for each other unless you count "Baby". As in "Baby...can you put the kids in bed?" or "Baby, while you're in the kitchen can you grab a..." The pet name only kicks in if one of us wants something out of the other. Otherwise we don't even address each other by a title. "Hey..." usually suffices. We've gotten so wrapped up in child rearing, the org, paying bills and life that we just don't make time for each other.

In the last year, we've been on one "date". And even that, really can't be considered a date. It was more my brother needing us after his Italian Bitch of A Girlfriend (otherwise known as "She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named") of 9 years slept with his best friend and he ended up dumping her and finally working to get his life on track. We went out, had a few beers, watched his silly attempts at finding a "rebound" girl, took him to breakfast and came home. That's it.

So much for romance and dreams, huh? I'm not complaining really...I'm not a snuggly person. I think I used to be a snuggly person. But, somewhere down the line I just lost my need for it. I'm snuggly with my boys. All three of my boys always have a spot in my arms. They need it. They have all their grown up years in front of them, and I feel like they should be able to cuddle with me as much as they want and can before the world lets loose on them.

But, Mr. DK...he's not really cuddly either. The first couple of weeks we were together we cuddled a lot. But it wore off rather quickly. Why does that happen? One week you can't get enough of each other and for the next 20 years, you just co-exist as friends who procreate together? I'm done procreating now, so we're going to have to get a little more creative, I think.

Well, it's 2:28 am. Insomnia has become loathesome. I'm probably going to ask for something to help me sleep at night at the next doctor's visit. I guess I'll go read for the next few hours until my eyes give out. That's the only way I can sleep anymore...read until I zonk out with a book laying on my chest.

Goodnight!

sdk

I lied...

I'm tired, am feeling a little pukey and I just don't feel like writing a long post tonight. So...I'm going to bed.

See y'all tomorrow!

Maker of awards for Sarcasm, Mind-Speaking and Piggishness...

sdk

Fun Stuff To Keep You Busy...

For quite a while I've been thinking about doing a fun stuff post. But...it's sort of a pain in the ass to link it all and write it up and well...you know. But...alas, here's my list of cool stuff to do...

Consumption Junction: High on porn, but higher on REALLY funny stuff. Most of the backgrounds for my desktop are taken from the pictures archives of this site.

Acrophobia: This is seriously the best game EVER. You're given 3, 4 or 5 letters. Then, you have to make a witty, comical sentence out of the acronym. Like, for instance... BCMOP: Band Camp: My One Perversity. You play against others, when the top person hits 30 points, that person and the next person on the scoreboard do a face off. After every round, you see everyone else's answers and vote on the best one. You get points for voting on the best one, winning, and submitting the quickest answer to get a vote. My screenname there is allybeemer1. I play at night, usually.

Liquid Generation: With fun games like "Who'd You Rather" and "Whose Boobs" how could you resist?!

Imesh:Peer to Peer file sharing. If you download the newest version, it searches between a few systems. There's movies, music, programs...you know. All the good stuff. WARNING: The free version DOES contain adware. It's not THAT bad if you don't leave it on all the time and have pop-up blockers. And if it gets too burdensome...just delete the program.

Worth 1000: One of the sites you can just get lost in for HOURS. This one has photoshop contests, where individuals take photos and digitally manipulate them to create absolutely brilliant stuff. Once you start on this site, it's really tough to just walk away.

Harry Potter #4 THE NEW TRAILER: It's out. Finally. Not the BS little teaser either...a real trailer. (For those making fun of me...bite me.)

Jay Leno's Headlines: Always hillarious. Speaking of Leno...I found another link that was requested, which can be found here.

SNL: Some good downloads of past skits. Who doesn't love SNL?!

Awful Plastic Surgery: Yes, sometimes I seriously have nothing better to do.

Go Fug Yourself: All things celebrity fashion, with an evil, cynical twist. (which, for the record, is about the only way I can stand celebrity fashion...)

Calvin and Hobbes Wonderland: Ode to my favorite Tiger and waaaaaay too smart kid.


Well...those outta keep you busy for a while, and since I still have to figure out what I'm going to write about tonight for a real post...I'll close this and get on it...

sdk

HNT 6

Imprints of Time

What? You haven't jumped on the HNT bandwagon yet? Go here to read the Guidelines. And get your pieces parts up so we can oogle em'! To check out what HNT is...go to Obasso's blog, oogle his goodies, then check out the comments and head on down the list for who all is participating this week!

Happy HNT everyone!

Friends

Tonight, I got a surprise phone call from Megan. One of my two oldest, dearest friends. She was travelling through Jackson, on her way home from a training workshop for her job and thought about me, which of course prompted her to call. We talked for a few, and in the end, she turned around and came to hang out at my house for the evening.

I love our impromtu get-togethers. We rarely have time to see each other anymore, and during our time apart, it never really occurs to me how much I miss her. At least, not the way it sinks in right after she's left.

The cool part about Meg and I is that we can go months without speaking or saying a word to each other, but the second we're together...it's like picking up a book you just set down. We finish each others sentences, we laugh at our punchlines before they happen...we just get each other so well that we can be absent, but never really disconnected.

I'm sitting here trying to think if we've ever even had a fight...and I can't really say that we have. Certainly we've irritated the piss out of each other...that's what friends are for. But, never have we parted on a bad note or ever screamed and yelled at each other. We've never needed to...because we're so in sync, we just get it. We don't have to necessarily like what each other does...but we understand the whys of each others actions, and are able to support each other without offense. Besides the fact I know that she'd never willingly hurt me, I also know that if I'm screwing up, she's going to gently knock me back into my place without ever divulging that she knows I'm off track. It's a beautiful thing.

We have a "thing". We LOVE the movie Beaches. It's a sobfest, a chick-flick, and it's one of my favorite movies of all times. When Meg lived in Chicago, and I in Traverse City, MI I remember her calling me at least once a year absolutely sobbing. The only words she would utter were "I love you." And I would reply with "I love you too. Now, slowly push the stop button on the VCR." Sho-enough...she'd be watching Beaches. Speaking of Beaches...anyone know if that's out on DVD yet? I don't even OWN a VCR anymore! I haven't seen it in a long, long time. I could use a good sob fest.

This post has a couple of points. Obviously, one of them is that I love Meg. But the second one...

The second one is that I feel lucky to have such awesome friends. Meg is my oldest friend. We've been through everything together. But I also have 8 other friends that are perfect to me in their own sordid, quirky ways. I love all of them. Some I only get to talk to every couple of months. Some I get to see regularly. Some I never see, only email because we're so far away from each other. One, who I would classify as so much more than what the title "friend" implies, I haven't been able to talk to in a year and 11 days. But...the connection is always there. Life moves on, but so do our friendships. Even when we're busy, even when we're bogged down by the details of life we still manage to continue our friendships, in person or not.
sdk

EDITED TO ADD: You'll also be happy to know I've maxed out my Flickr account (link to the right) with new photos. I'll add more next month. There's 65 photos on there now...kids, animals, family...you know. The norm.

Random Memory #1: The Worst Day Of My Life

I sit here, wanting to write, but unsure of what to write about. I have some unslotted time, and unfortunately, inspiration hasn't made it's way to my brain today.

I think to myself...if I were my readers, what would I want to read about? Still...nothing comes to me. Because, most of my readers don't know me that well, therefore don't know of any of my quirky little life stories that have occurred over the past 29 years. So, I think I'll just take a random memory and go with it. Maybe I'll do a once a week random memory post. Pssht. Yeah right. We all know that when I tell you I'm going to do such a thing that it never actually works out that I follow through with it. Something always happens where I end up not writing about whatever I told you I'd write about and I end up with something else instead.

So, here's my shot at Random Memory Tuesdays. It probably won't catch on like the wildfire that is HNT, but we can try anyways...right?

The Worst Day of My Life

It began at approximately 2:30 am. There's a knock on the sliding patio door. I stumble to the door, tripping over toys and the cat to see who the hell is knocking at this God-Forsaken hour.
At the door is Emily, my little brother CJ's girlfriend of several years. She's bawling her eyes out. I said "Em...what's going on? Come in. What do you need?" Through sobs, she tells me that my brother, after leaving a crackhouse, got pulled over and after the officer executed a search on the little dumbass, found an "eight-ball" in his pocket. They took him to jail, and she doesn't know what to do. She said that his arraignment would be in the morning, and wanted to know if she could stay at my house until then. No problem. I'd be interested in chewing a piece of his butt as soon as possible as well.

The more I think about this, the more pissed I got. At 3:30am, I call Uncle Jimmy to give him a piece of my mind. He never got a word in through my rant. "You SONOFABITCH. Is THIS how you decide to take care of Cj? By putting him in touch with your contacts for CRACK?! You miserable piece of shit? You just wait until I tell my dad about this. You're done. Done. In case you're wondering what all this is a-fuckin-bout, Cj got pulled over tonight leaving one of your little buddy's houses and was found carrying crack. Crack! He's still a kid for crying out loud."

The conversation closes by him trying to defend himself and me slamming the phone down in his ear.

The next morning, I get dressed, get Alex dressed (He was 1 1/2 or 2 at the time) and head with Emily to the Justice Center for Cj's arraignment. Alex is acting up, so I send Emily in ahead of us into the courtroom, while me and Alex wait in the hall. So, Cj is in the courtroom, learning that he's going to get an assload of probation time for his indescretion, and meanwhile, I'm chasing Alex around in the hallway.

There are a series of doorways that lead into small conference rooms in the Justice Center outside of the courtrooms. These rooms are used for lawyer/defendant meetings etc. Well, Alex, went into one and began shutting the door. I scream "Alex! No!" and proceed on a dead run for the door that I am sure will lock once it's shut. I get just to the door, it slams shut and my ankle turns, all the way over, with boots with a 2 inch heel on them. So, now, my son is locked in a room (at least I think he's locked in there, I can't really remember if it truly was locked or not) and I'm howling on the floor in some serious pain, attracting all sorts of attention. I beg Emily to take Alex so I can go to the ER.

I go to the ER and, as I thought, it's broken. I spend a good 4-5 hours there, while we're messing around with that. All this time, I still have no idea what's happened with Cj and if he's really going to stay in jail or what's going to happen. They prescribe me some decent pain killers, and discharge me.

I go home, to find Emily and Cj at my apartment with Alex. Cj needs a ride to work because his license is now suspended. Cj's full of fun little comments about his being a criminal. This was the first real time he got in a lot of trouble. Before this, it was always minor stuff. He asks me if I can drive him. Of course I want to drive an hour away. It was my right ankle that's broken, aka - the gas foot. I was so excited, I wanted to strangle him.

So, we go. For the entire ride I hear about how he didn't KNOW it was a crack house. Of course he didn't. The crack has a life of its own and somehow thought he'd be a good target to ride home with.

I drop him off at his job, and head back for Battle Creek.

Once I arrived in Battle Creek, I decided to stop at Rite-Aid to get my pain script filled. This should have been an uneventful spot in this fucked up day. But...not to disappoint...

After I get the script, I hobble back out to the van. I notice something amiss from the door of the pharmacy. There is a dent, and a new color all down the side of the van. I get to the van, and find a yellow car (who knows what kind) has hit my vehicle. All down the passenger side of the van there is a long strip of yellow. No note or anything. Normally, this would have me hoppin' pissed mad, but on this particular day...I found it funny. Absolutely hysterical.

I go home. Crawl in bed, take a pain killer and think the day is over. Oh, silly, silly me.

Little while later, I hear the slider open and close. In walks the love of my life. Before we go any further, I want to make sure we all know that I'm not re-telling this story to make him feel guilty about this day, which I know he does. He's a self proclaimed pig, he's sarcastic, he's funny...and I love all these things about him. I'm retelling this story because it's funny. All of it, even his part of it.

So, in he walks. He comes in and snuggles with me a bit. He asked how my day went. I laugh. I proceed to tell him how the day had unfolded, and as I told him, I actually saw the humor in all of it. Until...

He stands up, abruptly and says "You're life is entirely too fucked up for me. I'll call you." And out he walks.

I waited, and waited, thinking he was kidding, for him to come back. At one point, I even got up and went into the kitchen thinking he was hiding in there, waiting to execute the punch line. I opened the door to the hall of the apartment complex...no one there. I look down the sidewalk at the back door slider to not see his SUV. I sat there, a little stunned and said outloud..."What the fuck?!"

So, I go back in and lay down on the couch reflecting on the day. What the hell had I done to deserve this karma?! Was I paying for things I would do later? Like, karma in advance?

I fell asleep in tears. I don't know how long I slept for, but was awakened again by a knock on the slider door. I'm thinking that he's come back to execute that punch line I had been waiting for. Like he had just wanted to give me time to get spooked about it. I was wrong. Uncle Jimmy pokes his head in. "You sleepin'?" I groggily sit up to look at him, glare, and slam my head back down on the throw pillow.

I asked him what he wanted. He (and his buddy...Hightower, they call him ((nice))) came to see how I was doing...they had heard from my brother what happened, and he wanted to continue the conversation we had the night before at 3:30am about how he was responsible for screwing up my brother's life.

I begged him to go away, that I just wasn't up for this conversation now. I told him what all had happened that day, and ended with how the guy I was supposed to marry just told me pretty much that we were done.

He plugged on anyways and gave me one of those "High Moral Standards" speeches that I so love. Finally, I get him out of my apartment.

It's after midnight at this point, and I decide to take another pain killer. So, I go to my desk where I had put them (and where my uncle's buddy had been sitting the entire time he was there) and found that they were missing. No where to be found.

To top the entire day off...my uncle's SOB friend, stole my damn pain killers.

How's that for a day? LOL

Just FYI...the said love of my life ended up calling me a few days later and we worked it out. And, I can't really say I blame him for feeling the way he did about the day. It was, afterall, the worst day of my life.

That's Always Nice.

I'm broke. This isn't a surprise, as I don't pull a salary from our organization. So, I was looking at part time help wanted ads in the newspaper. Mr. DK was sitting nearby, and I just knew you'd want in on this conversation, so I'm here to share it with you.

Me: All of these are either 40 hours, which I don't have time for, or something I probably out to not do unless I want my face plastered on every television screen within 100 miles.

Mr. DK: Oh yeah? Like what?

Me: Showgirls Lounge, stripper, or wait...wait...waitress. Drunk guys and money. That's a great combination. But they'd probably want me to go topless or something, and that's not happening.

Mr. DK: Uh...no offense, but I don't think they'd want you to take off your top.

Me (Evil glare brewing): What? I know that my mom boobs aren't exactly staring at the sky, but you're not supposed to SAY it.

Mr. DK: No, no...I'm just sayin'...They're looking for like Carmen Electra type boobs.

Me: And, what type boobs are mine?

Mr. DK: You're taking this wrong. I'm saying they like bought and paid for boobs.

Me: You evaded the question.

Mr. DK: They don't have a type. Sigh...

Me: Oh, I believe they do, and you're just to chicken to say it.

Mr. DK: Is there any way to win here?

Me: That's yet to be seen.

Mr. DK: You have perfect boobs.

Me: Uh huh. And, I hope they look good in your memory because they don't come out for people who are mean to them.

Mr. DK: Seriously. They're great.

Me: Keep digging.

Mr. DK: You don't have time to go waitressing anyway. We'll be fine. Don't worry about finding a job. It's my problem.

Me: Uh huh. Now I have bad boobs, and you want to take care of me cause they won't cut the mustard at Showgirls?

Mr. DK: You're giving me a headache. There's nothing wrong with your boobs.

Me: Oh, apparently there is, because if there weren't, we wouldn't be having this conversation.

Mr. DK: What happened to that whole brutal honesty deal. Like on Anna's blog?

Me: It has to be solicited. I didn't solicit it, you just said it.

Mr. DK: I give up. I'm going upstairs to clean out the closet.

You know it's good if he's cleaning to get away from you. Heh.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::


Nothing great happened today. I'm back to working on the company website. I need to get it done before I go in for surgery.

Speaking of surgery...looks like we're moving that up. Apparently that's what's causing my headaches, nausea, dizziness, general pissiness and pain. My landlord asked me if I was pregnant yesterday. No.....I have 8 fibroids that are growing in my uterus making it look like I'm pregnant. So...I'll hopefully find out Friday which day we're doing that next month.

Ummmm...what else? Not a whole lot I can think of. So, I'll end the night with a link that were requested for Kimmel, Leno, and Konan. I could only find one for Kimmel. One comment I have for your site is that you should add captions to your photos, and the ones on the sidebar...make them so you can click on them and enlarge them so you can see them.

Kimmel

We Will Never Forget

Warning:

Warning: If I happen upon your blog and it has any funky new banners that tell us that Bush should be impeached or if you've posted any new coalition bullshit to get the man impeached...that will be the last time I visit your blog.

I don't believe that this is the time we should be going for a new President. Election time will be a fine time for that. It's really not that far off. If you think that impeaching him is the way to go, you're a moron.

To impeach him now will leave us far more vulnerable than the hurricane has. I'm so sick and tired of these tree huggers that scream foul everytime something happens.

There. I've said my peace. If you've got the coalition bullshit on your site, I'm done being a fan, no matter how witty and cool you are.

sdk

Now What?

What do you blog about when you're tired of being pissed off and frustrated, and yet that's the only thing that you can concentrate on?

#1's second week of school came to a close today. He says he likes his teacher but that she constantly clears her throat and it drives him insane to the point he can't concentrate. That's always nice. The kid is 6. He has a lot of those little qualities himself, and he's not supposed to be noticing it in others yet.

We've decided against preschool for #2. He already knows his colors, shapes (even the hard ones) alphabet, letters and numbers. He can count to 100. Pre-school isn't going to teach him anything except for a set schedule and socialization. So, he's taking junior karate and swimming lessons instead. He's entirely too smart for his own good. He talks well, but still not good enough that you don't have to bend your ear a little to understand. #1 took off his gym shoes today when he got home and #2 said "Ay-ex (alex) yous feet are disdusting." Awww. Sibling love at its finest right there.

At some point over the weekend, I'm going to need to call FEMA in to clean my house. I hear Michael Brown's not busy...(I wouldn't trust him with my freakin' dishes...who am I kidding?"

I'm glad you (you know who you are) decided to write blog entries on your site instead of leaving it static. I love reading your life, and its nice that you are updating it regularly. It cuts down on me reading and re-reading everything you wrote 50 times a day. Thank you. And, I might have some idea of where you have said it before. I know I've heard it before, but it had nothing whatsoever to do with football. Have fun on the trip.

We joined the YMCA. There are no good gyms around here and we figured that the kids would have a good time there too. Rock climbing, swimming, basketball, weight rooms...and classes. Loads of classes. I thought my kick boxing class started this week but its not until the end of the month. This is my only salvation for moving a block and a half from Dairy Queen. Fucking twist cones anyway.

Well, I guess that'll do it for the night.

sdk

Michael Brown...You're a Dumbass.

For those who don't know who Michael Brown is, you will soon, unless of course you live under a rock or are somehow oblivious to what is going on around us.

Michael Brown is the current (at least as of this writing he is) FEMA Director. Nominated by George Bush himself, Michael Brown took over the position as FEMA Director in 2001. Time did a little investigation on him after he royally fucked up the Katrina situation, and came out with some interesting information.

His resume....fudged. 90% of it was pure bullshit. His online resume shows that he received an outstanding professor award...a call into the school said that while he was never a professor there, he was a student...

He wrote that he was the Director of a nursing home. A call put into the Nursing Home staff said they didn't have a board of directors anymore, and hadn't had one for the last 5 years, but even so had never heard of Michael Brown's name.

Ok. I'm not one to criticize in a situation like this. But, BUT...WHAT THE FUCK IS OUR FEDERAL GOVERNMENT THINKING?!

At this point, I am more qualified than he is to head up the entire Katrina catastrophe.

So here we are in the wake of the nations biggest natural disaster in 50 years, and we've got a wanker in charge of it all.

As of 1:28pm this afternoon, he was relieved of his Katrina duties in Baton Rouge and was on his way back to DC. Thad Allen, the Coast Guard Vice Admin was stepping in to take over. So far, his resignation hasn't been received nor asked for...but it had BETTER be on it's way.

Now, here's my personal thoughts on this. I've had about as much as I can take on this whole thing without blowing a gasket. So, I present...my gasket.

Before 9/11 FEMA was able to pinpoint what the three major disasters in the US that would leave us vulnerable and demolished were: 1) A terrorist attack in NY. 2) A major hurricane in NOLA and 3) A Major Earthquake on the San Andreas Fault in California.

2 of the three things have happened. There's an 80-90% chance of the third happening before 2024. So, why aren't the officials and powers that be making sure that they're ready for when it does? I read reports yesterday that NOLA's people (officials/government) knew. They were given government funds to fix and ready their buildings for such a tragedy. But...BUT...they didn't use those funds. Instead 75-90% of the people received extensions on their deadlines for readying their buildings until 2006-2008.

Everyone (including myself) keeps saying that the officials are heartbroken etc, and we need to hold off our criticsism until after we've had a chance to survey the damage. But...(and walk with me a second on this one) since they're too busy talking about what needs to be done and not doing it, and not keeping me otherwise occupied, I've got plenty of time to think about and mull over WHY I'm pissed at these people.

It's the mayor's and the governor's JOBS to make sure that these things happen. If I receive a grant for a specific purpose, I HAVE to use the money FOR that purpose. Why the hell is the governor or the mayor any different?

Then, FEMA...and their gigantasaur fuck-up, Michael Brown...are you kidding me? Those people were sitting ducks. We had enough time to get everyone safely evacuated, and the crews should have been there the next morning for continued evacuation, search and rescue and search and recovery. But, that didn't happen. Instead, looting and riots and all this bullshit happened.

And, while I'm ranting, lets talk about the evacuee shelters in other states. Let's talk about the one right here in Michigan. Our evacuees are tax-paying voters. Citizens of the United States. They are being treated like prisoners, and THAT'S pissing me off. Jennifer Granholm was at the Fort day before last right here in Michigan. The woman came an hair from getting a piece of my mind. She seriously has nothing better do do than to sit on top of us and make sure that the evacuees only get one toothbrush, not two. One washcloth, not two. She's not utilizing her resources to reach the end goal, she's keeping us busy with mundane bullshit and condescending us with smiles and pats on the back as if we're stupid enough to fall for her shit.

And, I learned last night that our evacuees aren't allowed to leave the Fort. Why not?! Are they in danger of finding a job, an apartment and possibly life outside Jenny's little thumbhold? If anyone told me I had to stay in an area after they'd moved me across the nation from my home, family and everything that was natural to me, and then told me I couldn't leave...I'd be knocking someone out.

There.

sdk

HNT 5

Thank you for the reminder, David!



What? You haven't jumped on the HNT bandwagon yet? Go here to read the Guidelines. And get your pieces parts up so we can oogle em'! To check out what HNT is...go to Obasso's blog, oogle his goodies, then check out the comments and head on down the list for who all is participating this week!
Happy HNT everyone!

Common Sense: Not So Common

I think we really need to take a look at the phrase "Common Sense" from a current, new world perspective. It is my opinion that we rely on each individual to possess a certain amount of this so called substance, and I'm beginning to truly believe that by doing so, we are just making our own lives and those around us, by far...worse.

Today, I'm in here, on the phone, sitting at the computer working on this FEMA project for Katrina, and I hear a loud screech, a big bang and then "GET BACK HERE YOU FUCKIN' BITCH!!!" I politely let the person I was talking to go, tossed the phone to Mr. DK, instructed him to call 911 and then bolted out the door. In the middle of the intersection near my house, there's a black Harley laying on its side, with it's driver lying a good 20 feet from the bike in the middle of the road. I see no car anywhere, no traffic...nothing. The only movement I see is people emerging from their homes to see what the hell is going on, and the driver of the Harley flipping the bird with both hands and a very angry grimace towards the street that runs west.

I get out there talk to him, and try to assess his damage. I let him know that help is on its way, but that I am trained First Response, and that I can help. He says his shoulder hurts, his arm hurts and his bike "FUCKIN' HURTS". Cool. He's talking, he's pissed...this is good. Pissed is great. I ask what happened, and he said this chick in a blue cavalier ran the stop sign, coming from the east. He was travelling north on the other side. She didn't even pause at the stop sign...she just flew right on through, though she did break for the car that was in front of him, but accelerated when she saw him. Then...she just kept on going.

Another girl arrives on scene. She says she saw and knows who did it. The girl is 17 years old, by the name of Ashley Grove...(did you get that?) ASHLEY GROVE of JACKSON, MI who hit him and ran. Perfect. We've now got a suspect, the make and model of the car, law enforcement is on it's way, and our guy, while certainly banged up and pissed, is going to live to ride that gorgeous bike again.

Turns out our victim is a retired deputy of the Jackson Sheriff's dept. He has his gun on him. He advises me he's got it, and when law enforcement arrives, he advises them that he's got it. I love it when people play by the rules. Good stuff.

So, back to the common sense issue. For us, it's common sense that a person is going to stop at stop signs, that they'll at least pretend to obey traffic laws, and certainly, if they hit a 300 pound Harley...that they'll at least stop. NO. We have it wrong. Not everyone plays by those rules. I'd like to think that most of us do, but apparently, not so much.

We can apply this same line of thinking to every other aspect of our lives too. "Honey...did you take the garbage out?" "Nope." "Well, it's Tuesday night, they pick up on Wednesday, common sense would tell you that you outta get it out there." Uh huh. Not so much.

So, how do we avoid just assuming that others have it? And how do we tell, from a purely judgemental and once-over standpoint, if they have it or if they don't? I mean...you look at someone and their personality could differ 100% from what you THOUGHT they should act like.

Good Lord. We get the answer to this question...and we've got it made. Everyone that's got the Common Sense Gene...hop on my boat. Everyone who's not...you and Ashley Grove (of Jackson, MI) need to go dive off a cliff. You're breathing my oxygen, you're wasting my time, my energy, Mr. Harley guy's money on insurance rates, and you're pissing me off.

sdk

Do you ever?

Do you ever look back upon your choices and wonder how differently things would have turned out had you travelled the other road?

I try hard not to do just that. It pains me to do it because deep down, I know that my life could be very different than it is right now with one very large decision. I don't really want to go into what that decision was because, well, that pains me too, and the only other person it truly means something to knows very well what I'm talking about. I'm not saying that I would've made the other choice if I had the chance to do it all over again. I'm not, because even if I had it to do all over again, I'm not sure I'd be brave enough or have the cajones or the proverbial balls that everyone's always talking about to make that decision. And, had I made it, I wouldn't have what I have now, and that is something I don't even want to think about. But still...what if?

I try very hard not to compare what my life is now with the decision that defined it all. But, sometimes I can't help myself. Would my organization be where it is now? Would I be enjoying a happier and more satisfying intellectual level? Would I have a third child? Would I be as much in love as I always have been after all the time that's passed, but in person? What would it be like?

People always say to leave the past in the past, but for whatever reason, with this, it just never works out that way. I can't. Because we both know that sort of energy, that sort of spark is few and far between. My heart broke as much as I was in love too. I will be forever sorry...no, not sorry, sorry doesn't even begin to cover how I feel, but it's the only word that works - - maybe mournful? for the pain that I've caused us both. It is my fault, and I know that. I don't know if or how I could have changed it for it to be right. I might never know. But it's forever in my heart and mind, and I'm not at all sure if that pain will ever stop. Just know that there's not a day that goes by that I don't think about it.

For everyone that's reading this thinking "What the hell is she talking about?"...I can't even begin to explain, I just don't have it in me to go through the entire thing to try to help you understand something you'd only get by experiencing it. But, to you, the person who knows damn well what I'm talking about...my heart still hurts as much today as it did then. You are obviously doing very well. And you look great. I look every day and I'm very proud of you.

sdk

Response to Harlin's Post:

Harlin Seritt writes:

"It's a hard old world. Sometimes, you can do absolutely nothing when disaster strikes. I lived through something similar (though on a far smaller scale) when Hurricane Frederic struck Mobile, Alabama in 1979. We were without electricity and safe water for 2 weeks. When you're a kid you don't seem to mind it as much though. I remember thinking it was great that we didn't have to go to school for about a month (though we did pay for it later in the summer with some Saturday sessions). My father made us work during our reprieve from school by cleaning up the remains of a huge oak tree that had fallen on our house. While this may have been considered tough at the time, it in no way compares to the situation in the Gulf Coast today.

It is definitely true that disasters bring out the extremes in peoples' personalities. Some rise to the occasion, a few completely fall apart and others exploit the situation with violence or inciteful speech. I honestly offer no real solutions to a situation as we're seeing in Katrina except faith. Faith is one of those seemingly irrational expressions of the human condition when a person realizes they are in a situation they cannot control.

I am a Christian, however, I do realize there are other people out there who are members of other faiths. As a result, I cannot help but acknowledge that other people with beliefs other than my own are sustained by their individual faith in times of trouble. I realize there are no doubt many people who stroll on these boards that are Atheists or believe that God may exist but that He is unknowable. I would be curious to know how you get along when you're in a situation you have absolutely no control over. Are you stoic? Do you despair? Do you blame others? Or do you console yourself at least that this was something you could have prevented being part of and resolve to be more careful in the future?

I am honestly curious and I realize that people who have faith and are devout also have some of these same negative emotions when in a crisis. So, this is no indictment on people of other faiths or those with no faith -- I'm just soliciting some feedback. I would really be interested in hearing your take on things like this. "


Dear Harlin,

What you ask is very thought provoking. Many times, when our faith is called upon to help us through a situation, such as what is happening on our Gulf Coast, we tend to wiggle by, and we don't think about it much. We certainly don't shout it from the highest mountain tops how we feel for fear of what others might think, or how others may perceive us.

I find it very interesting that throughout this entire ordeal thus far, I've not heard Katrina referred to as "An Act of God". Not once. I've seen it called a "catastrophe" a "devastation" and a "Force of Nature", but not an "Act of God".

For me, the answers to your questions are fairly complex. And, they change with every situation. I founded and run a non-profit that deals with missing persons cases. Every single case is different, and every case presents very difficult and very challenging circumstances. I would say that I am unwavering in my faith. I know what I believe and I've found it to work itself out and show its credibility every single time.

That being said, when faced with uncontrollable circumstances, I find that I excel. It's a wonderful "safety mechanism" that was built into me sometime during my mother's death. If I can take control of the aftermath and work towards the solution, then I can survive and sleep with myself at night. If I don't...that is that I don't work to become part of the solution, I suffer from insomnia, anxiety attacks and headaches. The other night I had the migraine to beat all migraines, and it came from my inability to do anything for those people on the Gulf Coast. We are raising money, we've filled trailers with supplies and we have more going, we've readied our dogs to be dispatched (they leave Tuesday, as of right now) but I can't physically get there and do it myself. And, it's through that fact that I suffer. There's nothing that I can personally, physically do.

So, it's left up to fate and/or faith, however you look at it. It will work out exactly the way it is supposed to, and there's nothing you nor I can do to influence it.

As far as the looters and the anarchy that is happening down there is concerned...it's just beyond my comprehension. One of my handlers called me a few days ago just sobbing. She said that one of the cadaver dogs on another team down there was shot and killed by one of the evil-doers. I just don't understand it. They're there to help. They're there, putting their own lives in danger to help, and when I say putting themselves in danger...I mean from the elements, I mean from the filth, from the water and the general devastation that is there. I don't mean by the people. It shouldn't be by the people.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that the officials are trying to help. It's not going to make it happen any faster by demeaning them and calling them on errors made. There will be plenty of time for all of that much later. So, for me, I don't understand the civil disobedience that's going on aimed at the officials. The officials don't have any more control over what's going on than you or I. So...for me, I still don't understand how they (the looters) are justifying what they are doing. Survival instinct doesn't equal killing or assaulting others. THAT is against human nature.

I'm a believer that in general, people are good. Even through all the hatred and evil that I've seen. I refuse to believe that if you put 10 people in a situation where only one is allowed to come out alive that between the 10 of them, they can't come up with a reasonable solution that equals life for all. It's all in your perception of what's right and wrong. If you believe that you have to kill the other 9 to get out, then I guess that's right for you, but it doesn't mean it's right. If I were in that room...I'd be putting all of my energy into the solution to get us all out alive...

But, that's just me.

sdk

HNT4 On Time Even!

***Ahem...David...E-Mail...where is it? (xoxo...still love ya)

It's HNT once again, and I'm proud to say I remembered all on my own. Go me. This isn't the best picture, but I'm a little short on time this week, so I just cropped down an old picture of me.

What? You haven't jumped on the HNT bandwagon yet? Go here to read the Guidelines. And get your pieces parts up so we can oogle em'! To check out what HNT is...go to Obasso's blog, oogle his goodies, then check out the comments and head on down the list for who all is participating this week!

Happy HNT everyone!

sdk