Archive for June, 2006

« Previous Entries
Next Entries »

nar·cis·sism

Published June 24, 2006 in Miscellaneous. 0 Comments
    1. Excessive love or admiration of oneself. See Synonyms at conceit.
    2. A psychological condition characterized by self-preoccupation, lack of empathy, and unconscious deficits in self-esteem.
    3. Erotic pleasure derived from contemplation or admiration of one’s own body or self, especially as a fixation on or a regression to an infantile stage of development.
    4. The attribute of the human psyche charactized by admiration of oneself but within normal limits.

Disclaimer: If you think this post is about you, you’re probably RIGHT. Besides, nothing I can say would convince you otherwise.

No Tags

Dogs

Published June 24, 2006 in Personal and Pet Tales. 0 Comments

Me and Darby

Meet Darby (and that’s me, for those who have never seen a picture). That dog right there was the Best. Dog. Ever.

I’ve been owned by many dogs throughout my life and each was special in his/her own way. But I connected with Darby from the very moment we laid eyes on each other. She was owned by a breeder that I had contacted while looking for a rescue organization to adopt from. The breeder, a very wonderful woman, told me that she had a dog that had just incurred a chipped elbow and shouldn’t be used for breeding again. I drove down that weekend to the woman’s house and was in Saint Bernard heaven. There were quite a few rescue dogs there, plus her own breeding dogs AND two huge litters of puppies. If the boys hadn’t still been in diapers at that point, I probably would have come home with Darby AND one of her puppies, but I knew that I couldn’t take on housetraining and toilet training at the same time without losing my mind. We signed the paperwork, stuffed Darby in the back of my little Tracker and I was on my way. I talked to her all the way home and by the time we arrived, the bond was formed. The picture above was taken on her first night with us and that’s pretty much where she always stayed…by my side or at my feet.

At 192 lbs., I had cause to be concerned over how Darby behave around Monkeyboy, who was barely a year old at the time. Even an unintentional swipe of her tail could have seriously hurt MB…or me for that matter. I weigh 110 lbs soaking wet and the second concern I had was being able to control a dog that big. My other saints were all typical weights for the breed: 130 to 150 lbs. My concerns were completely unfounded though. This dog could tiptoe through the maze of children and toys like a ballerina and keeping her under control never required more than the sound of my voice. She even picked up my non-verbal cues and would lay down every time I looked at her with raised eyebrows.

We had a window next to our back door and whenever someone knocked, she’d get up, walk over to the window and move the curtain aside with her nose. No barking, no anything. Just a GREAT BIG HEAD in the window. I can’t tell you how many postmen, delivery men and Jehovah’s Witnesses she scared doing that. If I allowed a stranger to enter the house or stopped to talk to one on the street, she’d quietly move herself between me and the stranger and JUST WATCH. She’d never take her eyes off the person, but she’d make no threatening moves. She didn’t need to. Her sheer size intimidated the shit out of most people, but if she knew you and LOVED you, there would be no doubt in your mind that she worshipped the ground you walked on.

She was the boys’ pillow, security blanket and alarm clock all rolled into one. When they were each old enough to start school, she’d pine for them while they were gone. If they were outside playing in the yard, she was right there keeping watch. The boys stopped letting me play hide and seek with them because all I had to do was ask, “Where are your babies?” and she’d lead me right to them.

Darby died a few years ago and we still mourn her. I’ve always believed that the best way to honor a beloved pet’s memory was to give a good home to another pet who needs someone to love them. This is the longest I’ve ever been without a saint and it’s due in large part to the fact that I don’t know if I can find another dog SO perfect for us. I’ve been scared that any other dog will be a disappointment. The funny thing is is that all of the saints that I’ve had have all come to me through very serendipitous events…like some force in the universe leads them to me (or vice versa).

Yesterday, I decided to open myself back up to the possibility of getting another dog. Now, I just sit back and let the universe handle the details.

No Tags

Left Field

Published June 24, 2006 in Miscellaneous. 0 Comments

I love it when I get shit thrown at me from out of nowhere.

I recieved an email from a friend asking for help because his blog was down. I provided help, along with several other people. I happened to be the one who found the solution. I made a short post stating that the issue was resolved and a short comment stating what the solution was. End of story…or it SHOULD have been. Instead I get an email this morning pointing me to this:

Or, maybe it would prefered that I engage in a stand-up pissin’ contest over who fixed who’s blog first.
I’m NOBODY’S “minion”, and I’d have to be a pompous biotch indeed to crown my self “queen” of any domain.
FUCK THAT.
I’m not a “girly” kinda girl. I will not engage in a bloggy “cat fight”. I’d rather meet you in a parking lot and kick your ass, fair and square. Mmmmk?

Well, sweetheart…you SHOW me where *I* started a pissing contest. You say you won’t ‘engage in a bloggy “cat fight”‘ but you’ll sure as fuck START one, huh? YOU yourself made a comment to the effect of “It doesn’t matter, as long as it’s fixed”. Right? Sounded like good logic to me, but apparently you can’t take your OWN advice, huh? Besides, Paul was back there too and it’s entirely possible that HE did something to fix the blog. In the BIG scheme of things, does it matter? Rob’s site was fixed and that WAS the main objective, wasn’t it? It damn well SHOULD have been.

And if I were to start a pissing contest over it, my comment to you would have been somewhere along the lines of, “Uhh no you silly cow, there were no ‘crossed posts’ or ‘fucked up timestamps’. I had been sitting here for twenty minutes looking at a working blog before YOU finally remembered to refresh your page”. But did I do that? Fuck no. You know why? Because you’re a friend of a friend and that was good enough reason for me to keep my thoughts to myself. I’m not into public humiliation, as I’ve stated before.

Hooting and hollering and generally making an ass of myself isn’t in my repertoire. Attacking someone behind their back also isn’t my style. If I’ve got something to say to you, I have NO problem at all saying it to your face. Just ask this woman. I’m pissed off at her…no doubt about it. But I can still hold a civil conversation with her without resorting to behind-the-scenes backstabbing and name-calling. [EDIT: Apparently she is as incapable of this as she is of pulling herself out of her perpetual pity party. There, Livey. NOW you have a reason to be pissy.]

And did you really threaten to kick my ass? Do you even realize how fucking juvenile and moronic that makes you sound?

Don’t some of you women have a fucking life or something else to occupy your time? Christ almighty. Ya’ll find the dumbest shit to fight about. If I spent half as much time as you assholes spend creating drama WHERE THERE ISN’T ANY, I wouldn’t have time for anything else.

Get a grip…or a life. I don’t care which, but leave ME the fuck out of it.

Update: Oh, and the ‘Queen of the Mindless Minions’ thing? It’s a joke, Toni. A very OLD, very silly joke. ANYONE who agrees with Rob on ANYTHING is automatically labeled a ‘mindless minion’ by his detractors. I was labeled the QUEEN a long time ago by a very bitter and delusional woman and it’s always kind of cracked me up. It still does. As I said before, if you don’t think they call YOU a mindless minion behind your back, you’re seriously mistaken.

No Tags

I Oughta Get a Sign…

Published June 24, 2006 in Pet Tales. 0 Comments

I’m really beginning to think I should get a sign that says: Chablis’ Home for Wayward Animals.

I had an eviction to do yesterday morning and had to meet the sheriff at 8am to let him know that the people hadn’t left the apartment yet and that I’d need him to come toss them out. He was supposed to meet me here at 3:30, but as it often goes with all things law enforcement, he didn’t get here until almost 6pm. No big deal though really. The evictees had packed up and left during the day, so at least I was somewhat sure there wouldn’t be a fight getting them out.

I knew to expect a mess when I got in there because that’s the type of people these clowns turned out to be. We entered and the sheriff commented that the place was clean compared to when he entered it two weeks ago to serve them the court papers. My maintenance guy, M, was changing the lock while the sheriff and I dealt with the paperwork.

Then out of NOWHERE, something dive-bombed his head. THEN, a whole bunch of things dive-bombed his head.

We both ducked. I started to run for the door while he put his hand on his gun. I was halfway through the kitchen before my brain processed what I saw.

Para-fucking-keets. FOUR parakeets to be exact. All flying around loose.

Not only did the fucking bitch that lived there take all of the contents from her fridge and freezer and dump it on the floor for it to melt and rot in the summer heat…not only did she leave dirty diapers and shit encrusted diaper wipes all over the place…not only did she RIP shelves off the wall leaving large holes instead of unscrewing them…not only did she leave behind SERIOUS damage to an apartment that was remodeled (complete with HARDWOOD FLOORS) less than 6 months ago…but that silly fucking bitch also left 4 parakeets flying around loose to shit EVERYWHERE.

M came in to see what all the commotion was and his chin dropped. He stood there for a minute, looked at me and said, “You take two, I’ll take two?”. All I could do was nod. The irresponsibility of people simply leaves me speechless sometimes.

The sheriff offered to call animal control, which made me giggle a little. If I can handle the mess left behind by human animals, I surely can handle a few parakeets. It just pisses me off when I see how easily people can discard their pets when they become inconvenient.

Anyways, meet the new additions to the menagerie.

Birds

Birds

They will be joining:

Arwen, Cockatiel Princess of Light and Goodness

Arwen

And Hedwig, the Lovebird of DOOM

Hedwig

M’s girlfriend isn’t too keen on birds, so I may end up with the other two that he took, but we’re hoping she’ll come around.

No Tags

Black Flies Don’t Bite…They SUCK

Published June 20, 2006 in Kids and Parenting. 0 Comments

The kids returned last night from a long weekend with TheEx and TheWife. Upon walking through the door, TheEx pulled down Monkeyboy’s pants, pointed to his calf and asked, “What IS that?!”

MB’s calf was swollen to about twice it’s size due to a FUCK-OFF MASSIVE black fly bite. Holy crap, I’ve never seen anything like it in my life. I asked him if he was having any trouble breathing and he said no…just that it itched like crazy. I grabbed the After-Bite from the medicine cabinet and spread it all over his leg and gave him a dose of children’s Benedryl. TheEx was a bit dubious about it and thought we should take him to the emergency room.

He really is quite cute in a pathetic sort of way when he thinks he’s broken one of the kids.

That After-Bite Cream for kids is excellent stuff, by the way. This morning, the bite was down to a much less impressive size and, after another application of it, the bite is pretty much gone now.

No Tags

Fear Factor

Published June 18, 2006 in Personal and Kids and Parenting. 2 Comments

Now that summer vacation is here, the boys needed to accompany me to the Sheriff’s department to file some papers on Friday. I’m never concerned about taking my kids anywhere because they are typically well behaved and respectful. But the offices are located in the courthouse…an environment they’ve never been in before, so I was a bit nervous about Monkeyboy. He’s a very exuberant 9 year old and curious about EVERYTHING. I had visions of him going through the metal detector, setting it off and then running back and forth through it to make it beep over and over again. Or climbing through the Xray machine on the conveyer belt.

We got through the metal detector without incident and went downstairs to the Sheriff’s department. I pointed to a bench in the corner and both boys sat down. The receptionist was busy helping a lawyer with some paperwork, so we waited a few minutes. The Sheriff that usually comes to evict tenants in the building came through and we gabbed for a few minutes. Finally, the receptionist came over and we took care of the paperwork that I was filing. After we were done, she looked over at the boys and commented on how quiet and well behaved they were. I thanked her and we were off.

Ever since they were little kids, I always lay down my expectations for behavior before we enter any eating, shopping or movie establishment. They’ve learned through the years that if they act up, their asses are MINE once we get home. Now that they’re older, the warnings are usually just a simple “Behave OR ELSE”.

On Friday the conversation went a little something like this:

Monkeyboy: “What’s this place?”
Me: “These are the county offices and courthouse. That means this is a place of business and I expect you to be on your BEST behavior here. You also need to remove everything from your pockets because you need to walk through a machine that looks for dangerous stuff and the machine will make a lot of noise if you have so much as a penny in your pockets.”
BooBoo: “What are we going to do here?”
Me: “I need to file some paperwork with the Sheriff’s department…which reminds me. This place has lots of BIG men with BIG guns. Do NOT give them a reason to shoot your ass.”
Kids: ~Wide-eyed Silence~

I am SO not above using fear tactics to get the behavior I want out of kids.

No Tags

Summer Vacation

Published June 16, 2006 in Personal. 0 Comments

Summer vacation begins…my sanity ends. What is that mystical force that allows children to refuse to drag their ass out of bed for school at 6:30am but once summer vacation hits, they’re up and at it by 5am?

I’m seriously considering summer camp for both of them next year.

No Tags

Grumpy Gus

Published June 14, 2006 in Pet Tales. 1 Comment

Grumpy snake

Anyone who has a snake for a pet will agree that it’s much easier to deal with a happy snake than an angry snake. What we have here is a very grumpy snake. Professor Snape here is getting ready to shed her skin, which is a much easier thing to do when there’s humidity in her cage. In theory, the kids are supposed to remember to spray down the cage every morning.

Still Grumpy

Obviously that didn’t happen this morning. When I got home this evening, I opened her cage to take her out for her nightly visit to the warmth of my shirt…but she was having none of that shit. Snakes are generally grumpy when they’re shedding because it’s uncomfortable for them (think of it as PMS for snakes), but Snape is a fairly easy-going girl. It took me a few minutes to realize that the cypress bark in her cage was bone dry.

Happy Snake

I filled the spray bottle, misted her with warm water and VOILA! She’s much happier.

No Tags

Fond Memories

Published June 10, 2006 in Personal. 0 Comments

Acidman brings back some fond memories of my life as an ‘abused’ child. We had three big willow trees in the backyard where I grew up, but I don’t recall ever being told to go pick the switch that would beat my ass. Oh no. My mother was much more creative than that.

She’d beat my ass with my own toys when I stepped too far out of line.

Remember these?
Paddleball

And these?
toys

I finally figured out around the age of 8 or so that when I recieved these gifts, they weren’t actually for ME and started asking for Christmas and birthday gifts that couldn’t easily be turned into instruments of ‘torture’. I can’t tell you how many paddleball sets she ripped the rubber bouncy ball off of and beat my ass with, but I can tell you that I deserved every single one.

‘Once burnt, twice learnt’ indeed.

No Tags
« Previous Entries
Next Entries »

Paypal

Calendar

June 2006
M T W T F S S
« May   Jul »
 1234
567891011
12131415161718
19202122232425
2627282930  

Crazy Hip Blog Mamas



Auctions


Ads


Text Link Ads

Exchange

Visitors

Blogosphere



Add to Technorati Favorites

Stats


PageRank Checking Icon