Okay, so. Since I was home for the last four days with uninterrupted lounging time, I spent A LOT of time in my pajama pants & sweats. I have one pair of sweats, in particular, that I have had for years and has the trickiest drawstring EVER. I have to tie them because they were an immediate post-preggers purchase after TB (who is 2 months shy of 13) was born. Now, I’m lounging around after getting the house all Christmasified enjoying both the roaring fire and my coffee when nature called. And I ignored it. I was comfy, what?? About 15 minutes later, the call is no longer avoidable so I haul my ass off the sofa and head to the loo. Only to be thwarted my my drawstring on my 13 year old pair of sweatpants. That motherfucking thing tied itself into about fifteen MILLION knots while I was just sitting on my ass doing nothing. NOW I’m standing in the bathroom, doing the pee-pee dance while struggling with the knots on my sweatpants. Oh dear God in Heaven!! How many more knots are there?? I’m circling like the Crackhaid Dawg while he chases his tail yelling “Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh” and yanking at my waistband in a futile attempt to yank them down. Finally, FINALLY, the last knot gives and I can get some relief. Now, will these pants get thrown out?? Not likely. Will I remove the offending drawstring?? Nope, I need it to keep my pants up. Will I get off my ass sooner?? I just might. Will there be a repeat of this incident?? The possibility is high. What can I say?? These pants are just getting broken in good!!
Okay, so. Now that I have decided I am indeed gonna live after the stomach virus I had played havoc with my insides, I have started decorating for Christmas. Typically, I do this in a day-and-a-half marathon of unpacking bins from the attic, throwing the decorations up, packing the bins back up, and getting them back into the attic. I just can’t stand the clutter of all the bins piled up in the living room, dining room, and kitchen. It drives me batshit crazy. This year, it’s gonna take me the better part of the weekend. We got bins down yesterday & I decorated the mantle & put up some other piddly stuff. Today I got down to business. I put up my Rudolph Christmas Village. This is a major production here since it covers two tables and ALL of the tops of my kitchen cabinets. This involves many trips up & down a stepladder & walking on my counter tops. (Yes, I clean the hell out of them after) Whenever I embark on anything that might be even remotely dangerous or injury causing, TWH always offers these words of comfort & support: “Woman, don’t you dare fall/hurt yourself. If you do, I’m gonna be PISSED. If I have to go sit with your ass in the ER for all day, I’m gonna be DOUBLE PISSED!!” I love how he’s always so concerned with my well-being. It’s truly touching.
Okay, so. We did not have Thanksgiving today. As I type this, TWH & TB are in the kitchen cutting up cheese & sausage for dinner while our last-minute Thanksgiving dinner sits uncooked in the fridge & pantry. It’s a last-minute dinner because we hadn’t even planned on being here. We were supposed to be in North Louisiana with my in-laws and working out how to see my bestie from high school while she was in town. What we ended up doing was turning around & coming home because I got sick. (Just another perk of working with the public folks.) I didn’t just get sick, I got Omigod-this-would-be-the-best-diet-ever-if-I-didn’t-think-I-was-gonna-die kind of sick. Yep, I get to have all the fun!! Sooooooooooooo, Thanksgiving will be tomorrow. We will cook our Turkey breast, make the dressing, and have pie TOMORROW. After we decorate the house for Christmas. For now, I will be thankful that I feel like I’m gonna live, that TWH & TB took such wonderful care of me, and that I’m now 5 pounds lighter. Jump start on my diet y’all!!
Okay so. I came home from work and the Crackhaid Dawg is winking at me. Or scowling at me. Or pretending to be a pirate. No, wait, his fucking eye is swollen shut. Mostly. I think the Crackhaid Dawg has some sort of nasty puppy conjunctivitis. I decided to try and treat it myself by putting him in a headlock and squeezing eyedrops in his eye in case he just had something just stuck in there. 10 minutes later and I’m covered in eyedrops and Dawg hair and the Dawg is PISSED. Go figure. Now I’m just petting him and rubbing my hands down with Germ-x after just in case his puppy cooties are contagious to me too. Tomorrow I’m taking him to the vet. Maybe he’ll get a cool eye patch. Until tomorrow, he’s just gonna hafta have squinchy face. Poor lil’ Dawg!!
Okay, so. I pull up to work Saturday and the little boutique next us has parked this big assed Airstream trailer in the parking lot. This thing is easily 30 feet long and covered with their store name and designs. And dirt. Lots of dirt. It’s been there all week and I now have the urge to play with it. Now, while I would never enter this thing or abuse it in any way, I WOULD incorporate it into the first ever Troy’s Barber Shop Christmas Card. Picture this: Troy dressed as Cousin Eddie in the Christmas Eve scene from Christmas Vacation with the caption “Merry Christmas…. Shitter’s full!!” TWH suggested we both stand in front of it wearing those old fashioned red underwear. I just think we should incorporate every trailer trash stereotype EVER. Beehive hair, Peggy Bundy type clothing, a wifebeater, ugly pants, shitty lawn chairs and empty beer cans everywhere. Oh!! And pink flamingos!! I think that just SCREAMS Christmas- Barber Shop style!! I say if you’re gonna leave it just lying around, I’m gonna play with it… We’re gonna have to photoshop out all their marketing stuff though. It just doesn’t suit my “Vision”.
|Okay, the picture is crappy because I have no idea how to copy pictures from my phone but you get the idea
Okay, so. I realize Facebook is a place for people to connect, or reconnect, or whatever but some of the shit folks share on here is absolutely appalling. For example, I, along with all the other super-lucky folks on their friends lists, got to watch a marriage implode. There were daily relationship status changes, pissy video postings, cryptic status updates that meant nothing to anyone but their soon-to-be- former spouse. I don’t even feel bad writing about it because it’s all there, in black and white, for the whole world to see. (Side note: Going from “In a relationship” or “Married” to “It’s complicated” is for assholes and wussies. Just nut up and say you’re single already.) I’ve also seen someone else blow another person’s business all over their page. Really?? I don’t need to know this shit!! P.S. What kind of friend does that make YOU that they tell you their tale of woe in confidence and YOU post it all over their page?? Feel better about your own life now?? I know it sounds like I’m bitching about FB as a whole. I’m not, really. I love FB. I’m as big a FB junkie as the next person. I will probably get “Un-friended” by the folks who see this and don’t appreciate my commentary. Oh. No. Wait. Come back… Whatever. I view that kind of like I viewed those crazy bitches on Springer who would go on National Television, air ALL their nasty business, then start screaming “You don’t know me!! Why you all up in MY business anyways?!?!”. Ummmmm… because you put it out there for me to comment on maybe?? I’m just guessing here… I have been making GREAT use of the “Hide” button on my newsfeed. Maybe once all the Wussies & whiners dump me, my news feed won’t be so fucking depressing. BONUS!!
Okay, so. As most of you know, TWH & I have been working feverishly on the outside of our house while the nice weather holds out. This has required MANY a trip to the home store. A few weeks ago, I noticed they were starting to put their Christmas stuff out. Where I would usually roll my eyes and mutter huffily about “At least getting Thanksgiving out of the way for fuck’s sake” I actually jumped at the opportunity to peruse their light & lawn decor offerings. See, a couple of years ago, TWH decided to throw out all our old lights in favor of new LED lights. He explained that they would last longer, were harder to break, and would cost about 1/4 the money to run. That last part translated as “You can buy twice as many new lights and still save money”. Total win!! Last year, when the lights first got put out in the stores, I suggested we buy some. My suggestion was met with derision and the purchase was delayed. Fast forward to the weekend after Thanksgiving. We’re decorating the outside of the house. We don’t have enough lights. We go to the home store. They have NOTHING. Apparently, everyone else in the world decided to go LED too. Only they had the foresight to go ahead and buy their shit. 4 stores later, and we left empty handed to make do with what we had. Not this year by God!! This year I started on this shit as soon as they put it out. I made a reconnaissance lap to see just what they had then the buying frenzy began!! I walked away with several (5) hundred lights, lighted garland for our (just today completed) porch railing, new lighted stake-in-the-yard decorations, and a giant tub of 100 shatter proof ornaments. For the lighted garland on the porch. So it’s not just plain green during the day. Duh. Before you ask, YES I want my house to look like the Griswold house. Just last year, I had the pizza delivery guy call me and ask where my house was in relation to “The house with all the lights everywhere”. I was elated. I am planning just where everything will go. Already.
Okay so. I don’t brag about my kids on here much. I don’t brag about my kids nearly enough. I don’t want to be THAT MOM. Having said that, I’m amazed at their artistic talents. Miss A is 15 and her talents fall into the visual arts. She can draw. She can work with colored paper & make pictures (I have no idea what that’s called) and she can even make art with FOOD. Here’s a sample of my beautiful girl’s work:
It’s different colored tissue paper and maybe some construction paper. It went up immediately in my bedroom so I can see it every morning. I also have a massive collection of things drawn by Miss A in a box. There’s just not enough wall space…
TB is 12 and has his own talents. He can draw a little but his gift lies in his words. He is a storyteller, and obviously, a poet. Here’s something he did for a school assignment:
The poem is entitled “I Am From”
I am from the cassette player with my hand inside of it
the soft fur of my stuffed monkey
and the slight feeling of claustrophobia in my pillow fort
From wiffle ball in the backyard
I am from my first bike, the unexpected meeting with the ground on my first turn
From scars made by my cousins steel toed boots
I am from crepe myrtle and the stab of stickers in my bare feet
and the sweet nectar of honeysuckle
I am from the occasional trip to Minden
to visit Grandma and Grandpa
I am from hot bacon and boudin
and the steaming taste of melted chocolate in waffles
I am from “No No” and “Catch”
I am from “T is for tookie and tookie is for me”
and “I would’ve gotten away with it if it weren’t for those meddling kids”
I am from the little red locker on top of my dresser that holds all my trinkets
I am from the south, the Gulf, the Mississippi River, and the tallest state capitol
I am from home
I am so lucky to be the caretaker of these two Smart, Funny, Wise, Beautiful children. I almost never feel worthy. They love me anyway.
I. Am. Amazed.
Okay, so. TWH & I went to the blood drive at TB’s school tonight. We get there and (thankfully) there was almost NO line. We waited for a few minutes then went back to answer all the standard questions before getting our blood taken. Now, as I’m sitting there within earshot of TWH, and the nice nurse lady is asking me all the prostitute & bisexual partner questions, all I could think about was “I wonder how many folks answer these questions with a ‘Yes’ where their spouse can hear them then get the ever loving shit beaten out of them??” Then came the thought “I bet it would be straight-up Jerry Springer in this cafeteria if that happened. then they would shut the cafeteria down until the crime scene clean up was done & I’d have to make TB a lunch every day. THAT would suck because he hates sandwiches.” Anyways, I answered all the questions and sat down next to TWH to get my arm poked & my blood sucked out. We opted to give just red blood cells instead of whole blood. (I say WE. What I mean is, I yelled over to TWH “Are you doing that??” and he said “Yes” so I did it too.) I learned three things about giving red blood cells:
1) It takes approximately FOREVER to give red blood cells. They separate your red blood cells from your plasma then give you your plasma BACK. This takes time. They said ten minutes more. Ten. Minutes. My. Ass.
2) When they give you your plasma back, it’s room temperature. Around here (South Louisiana, Hell Adjacent) room temperature is 70-75 degrees. Or less. Considerably LESS than your average body temperature. You. Will. Freeze. By the time I was done, my teeth were chattering so hard, I was afraid I was going to crack one.
3) For the love of God, EAT SOMETHING. This should go without saying, but I forgot I was donating blood and I just ate a salad for lunch. I remembered to stick some cookies in my purse because a friend of ours DID pass out last year. I just refused to eat them because I was afraid I’d ruin my dinner. The drive-thru, no veggies anywhere, fried chicken strips & fries dinner. I don’t know what in the hell I was thinking. Anyways, I look at TWH about halfway through my bloodletting and say “My face feels funny” which is a sign of great distress in our house. (It’s a TB-ism that resulted in an ambulance ride to the ER & another story). TWH called the nurse lady who reclined me and brought me peanut butter crackers and an ice pack. I ate the pb crackers, which did NOT ruin my dinner, and felt infinitely better. I finished and TWH escorted me to the car so we could go home. I walked all the way to the car on my own two feet and didn’t so much as trip. However, I was so fuzzy headed that this post took two tries to write
No good deed goes unpunished.
P.S. I know I should be writing about Flat Gwenyth and our trip to Montana but I have a GAZILLION pictures and absolutely no idea where to start. I’ll get there, just not right now.
Okay, so. This is gonna be really short because the LSU-Bama game is about to start and since I bleed Purple & Gold, I have to type fast. I know I’ve slacked off the last couple of weeks. Last week, we were getting ready to go visit my Mom in Montana. this week I’ve been recovering from the trip to Montana. I didn’t sleep the night before we left OR the night before we came home, so my two main priorities have been sleep and laundry. I promise I will type a longer post ( or couple of posts) about Montana, and the adventures of Flat Gwenyth. Game’s about to start. Gotta run!!!