tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55839597298647752332024-03-13T20:13:25.978-07:00Being RidiculousThis is my own personal soapbox. A look at issues that I find important and am passionate about. The title comes from my husband who likes to tell me that I'm "being ridiculous." What does he know??!! I'm not ridiculous...I'm, I'm...well yeah, I am. But for me, it would be worse to stay quiet...let's get ridiculous!Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.comBlogger53125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-18340918712471693572015-05-22T04:18:00.002-07:002015-05-22T04:18:39.950-07:00Happy Mommyversary! Shut up, it's a word...Today is my Mommyversary!! *crowd cheers*applause* Others may call it my oldest son Lucas' birthday...actually I think that is what they are all calling it. Fifteen years ago today, I became a mother. Mom is the title that I will keep regardless of my age, regardless of where I live, regardless of what I do for a living. What do you do? I am a banker and a mom. I am an office manager and a mom. I am a rock star and a mom. I am Iron Man...and a mom. No matter what, I am eternally bound to that title. The title, however, does come with it's perks. As a mother, you can always outdo your coworkers,<br />
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Mom: "Last night was horrible." </div>
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Random Coworker: "Aw man I didn't get any sleep last night either. *whine*" </div>
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Mom: "Really? Really?? Did your three year old throw up on you? Huh??"</div>
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Random Coworker: "Um...no. You, um...win."</div>
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When you look horrible with bags under your eyes and greasy hair, there is always an excuse. Yes I do look terrible. I'm a mom. *understanding nod* Then they walk away believing that underneath my exhaustion lies a supermodel. Maybe DEEP underneath, come to think of it I may just have a magazine with a supermodel in it. Close enough, you get the point. <br />
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When you become a mother, intuition kicks in and you know exactly what to do, right? Wrong. Motherhood is an adventure of trial and error. That's the funny thing about your first kid, you try so hard to do everything right and you mess up SO many times, but then when the second one comes along, they pretty much eat dirt. Well not really but you are definitely more relaxed. Poor Lucas has survived me crying as I plunged out a clogged toilet, asking him every ten minutes if he is ok when he is running a fever, and numerous claims that he is going to get pneumonia if... Side note, he has never had pneumonia, probably because I have aided him in eluding it so well. Lucas was also able to survive the First Thanksgiving Diaper Tragedy of 2000. Yeah it actually has a title. Baby boys are a funny thing when it comes to diaper changing. Their, shall we say, plumbing, allows them to pee in so many fun directions. Sometimes on the wall, on your shirt, in your face, it's quite an adventure. I was at my parents' house for Thanksgiving and Lucas was six months old. We had just finished dinner and I took him back to change his diaper. We are cooing and talking and I am placing his new diaper underneath him. I lift him up to slide the diaper in place when with the aim of Wyatt Earp, he shoots a stream of pee bulls eye...right into his MOUTH! I am horrified!!! I look at my new baby with terror in my eyes. What do I do??!! I grab Lucas and run into the dining room screaming, "Lucas has peed in his mouth!!! What do I do??" My family stares at me as if I have grown a horn in the middle of my head. "C'mon people! What do I DOOOOOOO???" My brother looks at me nonchalantly, "I think it's ok as long as he drinks his own pee. You just aren't supposed to drink someone else's pee." What??? "You people are useless." I grab the phone and call Poison Control, "Poison control what is your emergency?" "Yes my son is six months old and has just peed in his mouth!" Laughter. The poison control lady was laughing. That was when I realized...I might...just maybe...have overreacted. She calmed herself down and asked me about his overall health, etc. She assured me that he was going to be fine. Then she thanked me, "for making her holiday." Yep...glad I could help.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lucas aka Wyatt Earp<br />
He seems surprised by his aim.</td></tr>
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Being a mom is certainly not glamorous, and it's not always pretty. There is a lot of spontaneous fluids those first few years so you should probably wear a poncho. There have been major embarrassments and major triumphs, but every day I am thankful. Thankful to be the not-so-perfect-but-God-knows-I-try mom of two pretty amazing kids. Today I will celebrate that little pee shooter turning 15 as I look up at him now instead of carrying him on my hip. But today I will also celebrate the heralding of my most beloved title...mom. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lucas, Mackenzie and I,<br />
much less spontaneous fluid.</td></tr>
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Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-4301164410825485782015-05-12T14:29:00.000-07:002015-05-12T14:29:13.973-07:00Don't Make Me Hit You Like a Girl...I find it fascinating the things that we say without thinking. Things that are said without a second thought, things that bring to light society's views on a gender. Words that encapsulate the overall thoughts of a culture. These are all phrases that seem small at first, but they are the foundation of the sexism that breeds rape culture, unequal pay, domestic violence, and discrimination. It's why when a woman is raped, she is asked what she was wearing, but the rapist is not. It's why a woman will be more conservative with her salary requirements than a man. In all societal problems, there is a beginning. Every house is built on a foundation. The foundation is not complicated, it is consistent. The complicated parts come to play after the foundation is built. So let's consider some of the things that come out of our mouths to form these concrete blocks...<br />
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<i>Man up! Be a man!</i> - As opposed to what? A girl?? Is that so bad? This statement contains layers because first, the statement is saying that to be better...you must be a man NOT a woman. Secondly, if you are showing sensitivity or emotion as a man, that is somehow wrong. This statement implies that strength comes in one form...male.<br />
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<i>Grow some balls!</i> - This one has always confused me. Why would you want to grow a pair of testicles? This is to imply that you need to toughen up, but have you been around any balls? They aren't tough, they crumble at the slightest hint of trouble. Wanna gain control in a fight? Kick him in the balls. Now tell someone to grow a vagina or a uterus...oh yeah, now we are talking. As Betty White says, "those things take a beating!"<br />
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<i>You hit like a girl!</i> - Ever heard of Ronda Rousey? Just in case you have not, she is the women's UFC champion and a beast in the ring. So good in fact that she has been posed the question, "Would you fight a man?" Although she believes she could compete AND win against a man, she refuses to do so because she feels it is unhealthy to promote a man hitting a woman REGARDLESS of the circumstances, in this case, a sporting event. I would say Ronda Rousey, "hits like a girl", just sayin'. Just for fun, google female boxers and then google male boxers. Under female you will find a top 10 list of the most beautiful female boxers. Under male...you don't. Another fun fact, Ronda Rousey was photographed at an event with the caption, "Ronda Rousey cleans up well." Don't recall seeing that observation in reference to the guys. Fascinating...<br />
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<i>You're too pretty too... </i>- It doesn't matter how you end that sentence, it all means the same thing. If you are pretty the rules are different. So good news for us plain Janes, we catch a little slack. Whew! Now I can go out and get a tattoo and have an opinion. Yay me!<br />
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<i>That's so gay... - </i>Do you mean "That's so happy!" or "That's so homosexual!" Is it really homosexual or do you just find it odd/weird? Are you saying that homosexuals are weird? That's really not accurate because I find some heterosexuals are completely bonkers. Heck even my dogs are strange. My cats are gay, no they aren't odd, they are literally gay...male lovers...but intelligent and badass.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love.</td></tr>
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My dogs are weird...not gay...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Weirdos.</td></tr>
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<i>What were you wearing?</i> - This one carries a more serious tone because it is in reference to sexual assault. There are more questions... Were you drinking?... Did you know him? Let me clear this up once and for all. It does not matter what a woman is wearing, whether she was drinking, or how well she new the perpetrator...rape is wrong. Done. End of story. No one asks what the rapist was wearing and if they ask the rapist if they were drinking, it is to excuse...not blame.<br />
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These are just a few examples of the word vomit that plagues our culture. Anytime we stereotype a gender, race, or culture, we are cheating them of respect and opportunity. There are many more I haven't listed, feel free to comment with your favorite...<br />
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<br />Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-19018035302538856922015-03-25T20:19:00.002-07:002015-03-25T20:19:23.485-07:00Crazy Attorney Say Whuuuuuuut?<div>
In case you were not yet aware, the world is nuts...bonkers...crazy...ridiculous! Every time I read the news, there is something more bizarre to make me question humanity. Such as...</div>
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An attorney in California has presented a ballot to be voted on that would allow citizens to execute homosexuals by "bullets to the head." Why? Because as attorney Matthew McLaughlin states, gay sex is "a monstrous evil that the Almighty God commands us to suppress on pain of utter destruction." Apparently, McLaughlin fears a Sodom and Gomorrah repeat and wants to propose that, "anyone who touches a person of the same gender for sexual gratification be put to death by bullets to the head or by other convenient methods." Now if that isn't spreading the love of Jesus, I don't know what is! There are so many angles to approach here, I think I will just ask them all at once. What the hell kinda psycho proposal is this! How the hell did California make it so easy to allow psychos to propose something so ludicrous? Who the hell is going to sign the petition required to actually make it to the voting booth? What the hell is happening in California??!! The good news is that the attorney general and other officials are planning on blocking the proposal. The legality of the ballot could never pass regardless, but what an eye opener as to how ignorance knows no bounds and surpasses all classes. Religious extremism is in all religions and it is dangerous. Which brings me to...<br />
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Phil Robertson was recently speaking at a fundraiser, a prayer breakfast I might add, and offered an illustration for atheism. The illustration vividly depicted an atheist family being the victim of rape, decapitation and murder. He said in this illustration as the perpetrators were raping the daughters and killing them and their mother, that they would look at the atheist father and say, "Isn't it great that I don't have to worry about being judged? Isn't it great that there's nothing wrong with this? There's no right or wrong, now is it dude?" Crazy Duck Commander say whuuuuuuuut? Let me get this straight, being an atheist means that you think anything goes? NO! Being an atheist means you do not believe in a deity, end of story. Being an atheist does not mean that you hold no moral code or that you do not respect the laws of society. It means you do not believe in God. Hmmmmm...seems to be a common thread here. Can you say extremism? Yeah I thought so.<br />
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I am not attacking Jesus here, I am however, questioning the religious extremism that shows it's ugly head and labels all believers in God as prejudice haters that have no common sense. This makes me angry. This disgusts me. Remember that whole "love your neighbor" stuff? Yeah, that means everyone. Remember how Jesus chose a tax collector as a disciple along with a bunch of simple fishermen? Remember how he chose a murderer as an apostle? What about the prostitute that he saved from stoning? I seem to recall Jesus healing on the Sabbath oh and there was that whole eating with the Gentiles thing. Seems to me that Jesus showed...wait for it...love, to win souls. What a concept!! I do remember him getting pretty ticked off...at religious leaders. Religious zealot says whuuuuuut?<br />
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Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-7500491123959373642015-03-01T17:51:00.001-08:002015-03-01T17:51:32.980-08:0050 Shades of Gimme a Break... Part 1I have avoided reading <u>Fifty Shades of Grey</u> like I would avoid a port-a-potty. I am not a fan of romance novels, or as some would call them "summer smut," but the way I figure this story is anything but romantic. I have read opinions and listened to the casual chats, however, if I am going to voice an opinion I do not want to base it on the opinion of others, but instead, go to the source and see for myself. Thus begins my journey of the much talked about <u>Fifty Shades of Grey</u>...<br />
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The reason I have this blog dubbed "Part 1" is because I am still currently reading the book and am only voicing my opinion thus far. Other parts will be written as I continue reading. I am struggling with finishing it because, quite frankly, it is poorly written. A book should have a flow and an enticement to read that is beyond erotica. This book does not. I have to admit as I sat and read it, I was reminded of being a young teenager reading the Harlequin Desires (I believe that is what they were called) and hiding them from my mother. They were the steamy books with lots of naughtiness back in the early 80's. These were a better read than "Fifty Shades." Let's be serious, how many times can you say "oh my." Anastasia Steele, the main female character, is an English major for goodness sakes and all she can say is "oh my?" Then there is the biting of the lip. She bites her lip every other sentence..."I realized I was biting my lip. I bit my lip. Stop biting your lip Anastasia." I hope she keeps Chap Stick handy. Geez! But, this same character who gnaws at her lip constantly and is limited to the vocabulary of "oh my," throws around the word "medulla oblongata" like it is commonplace! Who says that??'!! "And from a very tiny, underused part of my brain-probably located at the base of my medulla oblongata near where my subconscious dwells," ... Whuuuuut? I have never sat and thought of what is coming out of my medulla oblongata. I have however, felt a stirring in the innermost dark places of my soul. Yeah, if you need advice on your next novel I'm available for parties and bar mitzvahs. The eye rolling that occurred while reading this almost sprained my levator palpebrae superioris. See E.L. James, I can use big medical words too.<br />
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I understand, this is not a literary classic, but that's not the point is it? This is a book meant to entice sexual fantasy not for a symbolism discussion at your next book club meeting. From some of the opinions, memes, articles that I was reading, I expected to be infuriated by a man who practically rapes this poor victimized woman. That's not exactly what has happened, at least not yet. The sex has all been consensual, however, the stereotypes are insulting. Ana has such low self esteem, "oh why would anyone want me, oh I'm not good enough, I hate my hair, blah, blah, blah." She is ripe for the picking for the dashing and confident Christian Grey. He is just perfect...perfect hair, perfect body, perfect career, and surprise, surprise, he's a billionaire. The epitome of strength and power. Oh how nice, a strong man who controls his own company, controls his employees and now he seeks to control the meek, weak, no self esteem, Ana. I love when books make women the weaker character, it's so good for our gender (insert sarcasm here). So far the book has taught me a few opinions of women; a large penis equals woman control, a pretty face and hot body equals woman control, and the more money you have the more control you can have over...say it with me...a woman. No mental connection necessary, no emotional connection necessary, no need to build a friendship; if you are hot and loaded you can basically own any woman you want. This is what women want??? Ummmm...no. I once had an old boyfriend who tried to disrespect me, act as though my mind and heart meant nothing and all that he needed was my physical body. I called him out on it and he became angered and demanded that I return a shirt that he had given me. I returned the shirt...after I wiped down my toilet with it. In reality, women want to be taken seriously, we want to be respected for our mind, our talents, our hearts, not used like a prostitute. This book degrades women and makes the gender appear shallow and superficial and that, quite frankly, disgusts me. Of course, I am a die hard feminist so what else do you expect?<br />
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Some can look past the stereotyping and degradation, as long as they can still get some juicy sex scenes *<em>shiver</em>*. According to E.L. James, women's orgasms happen with hardly any work at all. It's like MAGIC!! And men? They are ready to go again almost immediately. Wow!! In fact, you can read about three distinct sexual encounters in just a matter of a few pages. Amazing!! Three sexual encounters and there is still time for a good night's rest. Who knew?! No effort necessary. I especially love how the first sexual encounter is "basic training" for Ana as she is a virgin. Let the experienced male teach the rookie female how it's done. Men know what to do. They know how to please their woman. Women are awkward sexually until the man can teach her. Ugh! Who couldn't resist the mature way she refers to her vagina as "<em>there</em>." Anastasia Steele is a twenty-two year old English major who reads and dissects ACTUAL literature and she refers to her vagina as "<em>there</em>?" Wait a minute...that's another stereotype. Women are childlike lovers who cannot even say the word vagina. Vagina, Vagina, VAGINA! There, I said it.<br />
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I plan on explaining how I feel "Fifty Shades" affects the rape culture that runs rampant in our modern society, or maybe, it does not affect it at all. That is where my concerns lie. Maybe Christian and Ana will sit and discuss F. Scott Fitzgerald and debate political views. Don't tell me what happens next, I know I am one of the last to read this popular fiction. I'm not sure if my opinion will change with further reading, but there is only one way to find out. Let the eye rolling continue...<br />
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<br />Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-3627703632389032952014-03-03T16:11:00.001-08:002014-03-03T16:11:24.647-08:00Lent Rookie In Training...I have decided that this year I am going to participate in Lent. This is a new adventure for me. Every denomination does not participate in Lent and I grew up in one of them. When I was young I lived next door to the nanny of a catholic family and heard all about the kids' Lent stories. I was always thankful I was not expected to give up my favorite things to eat. Growing up, I would have been impossible to live with if denied my Little Debbies. Mmmmmmmm...Little Debbies... So celebrating Lent for the first time in my 44 years the question remains; what do I give up??<br />
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I am already on a diet so I have given up potatoes, white bread, milk chocolate, sugary snacks, chips...I have nothing left!!! I have given up soda, I have given up tea...can I give up diets?? I'm thinking not. It has to be something important, something meaningful, something that interferes with healthy activities. Uh oh...no surely not...I don't think I can do it...I really have no choice...<em>heavy sigh</em>. There is only one choice, Facebook.<br />
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Yes it is true, I have decided to give up Facebook for Lent. Facebook is definitely a distraction and keeps me away from important chores, duties, hobbies. It also replaces face to face interaction which is not very healthy either. I'm thinking with the time I spend on Facebook, I should be able to accomplish something important like write the great American novel, find a cure for cancer, learn a new language, figure out the thought process of men. Ok, maybe that is a little crazy, but yeah...I spend a lot of time on Facebook. Fat Tuesday may be spent pinning every possible cute pig picture I can find. This will not be easy. It's going to be a long six weeks.<br />
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The point of this time is to prepare spiritually for Easter. My hope is to not only spend my time wisely and break a somewhat unhealthy habit that I have formed; I am hoping that at the other end maybe, just maybe, I will grow a little...and figure out men. An Easter miracle!!Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-38263527006632779922014-02-19T09:55:00.000-08:002014-02-19T09:55:36.171-08:00Fitness for Dummies...After several weeks of snow and freezing temperatures, the cold weather has broken and it is sunny and 55 degrees. Glorious! I cannot wait until spring! I will work on the landscaping, put out a vegetable garden, go to the pool...Uh oh. I can't go to the pool with this winter belly pooch. And how can I expect to swim any length at all if I have become one with my recliner for the last three months? This is quite a dilemma. It appears I must change my diet and...don't say it...it can't be...anything but that...exercise. *weeps uncontrollably*<br />
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I have been doing some research on diets and nutrition. I thought about going vegetarian, but one day into it and I found myself chewing on the dog's leg. I require meat...like a Viking. A friend of mine was doing the South Beach Diet developed by cardiologist, Dr. Arthur Agatston. I checked the book out at the library and read it. It was actually very interesting to learn about good fat and bad fat and how our body breaks down food. I have decided to give it a whirl. The diet is fairly strict about what you eat, especially the first two weeks, but not so strict about how much. Supposedly if you get hungry that is a sign you may be TOO strict and need to take in more food. The hardest part, according to the doctor, is the cravings. I am into day 1 and I would shoot a man for a Nutter Butter. I swear I would. But I am not hungry and I feel like I am eating well so I will shoot for day 2. <br />
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While I was at the library, I checked out a DVD on beginner Zumba. No WAY I am going to a public class until I see what this is all about. I stared at it for 3 days. I moved it from one table to another. Finally, I put it in the player. Two bouncy young women were staring at me through the flat screen, "<em>Are you ready?? Let's go</em>" Alright here we go. "<em>Shake those hips! Are you moving your hips?</em>" Oh yeah, hips are going. Whew! This is some workout! "<em>Move to the music! Don't you just love this music??</em>" Yeah! Music is great! Love the maracas! Oh wait...those are my knees. "<em>And step and shake and jerk...You got it!</em>" Yes I do!! I am on fire! I gotta catch my breath... "<em>Great warm up!</em>" What the hell??!!<br />
<br />
So Zumba is fun, but I will probably be a closet Zumba-er...or whatever you call a person who Zumbas. Walking is pretty straightforward and I can always fall back on that. Point is I am doing something. I am getting up off of my growing buttocks and getting healthy...at least for today.<br />
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Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-33618943768403599242014-01-28T08:52:00.001-08:002014-01-28T19:07:02.162-08:00Living In Creativity...I would love to have some form of artistic talent. The ability to create a beautiful scene onto a blank canvas leaves me envious. My brother is an artist. His sketches are so detailed and life like, I just stare at them in awe. My daughter inherited his talent...YES! I love to watch her sit on the couch with her lap desk and work on her drawings or take leftover yarn and knit saddles for her stuffed horses. It makes my heart sing! I have zero artistic ability. ZERO! I'm even afraid to paint my walls, that is how little talent I have. How I wish my parents had been able to share that DNA with me. But alas, my little brother holds all of it...along with the beautiful strawberry blonde hair, blue eyes, and long eyelashes. But I'm not bitter or anything...<br />
<br />
What I have learned from living with two artists, is that they are a bit...messy. I remember as a child my brother having a drawer in his dresser filled with the pieces of broken toys. He would pull the drawer out and have the pieces spread all over his bed, putting different parts together to create a new "invention." He once combined a Barbie brush, a steering wheel, and a magnifying glass to make a moustache comber for our dad. Dad has always had a thin moustache. His bedroom walls were covered with portraits of his favorite musicians. He once sketched a portrait of Jerry Garcia that looked as though he would speak to you! Amazing.<br />
<br />
Now I am grown and my daughter is the house artist. You know those pictures that you see in magazines of perfectly manicured homes devoid of all clutter? That will never, and I mean never, be my house. Currently, there is an entire corner of the dining room devoted to art supplies and display. I'm not just talking pencils and paint, I'm talking boxes of every shape and size, empty paper towel rolls, and duct tape. Duct tape is a fact of life, artist or not. The walls and refrigerator are covered with pictures of horses and various dogs and cats. I remember being a new single mom and not having a lot of money for decorations, so I took my daughter's drawings and decorated our great room with them. Made for such happy surroundings. The other rooms of the house have a corner that contains drawing supplies, large books or a lap desk to draw on, and of course...boxes of various shape and size. You see, a Dairy Queen box may be handy for holding your lunch...but they also make great giraffes. Couches, end tables, entertainment centers, can all hold a number of pencils, crayons, and yarn. Need a pencil at my house? Just look beside you.<br />
<br />
Now granted, I have tried to organize this all at various times. But it is as though it has a life of it's own! To the naked eye it may appear as clutter, but to my daughter, they are tools. Not only tools, but creations in the making. Oh to be inside that mind! To be able to look at a box and see it's potential. I get a panic attack planning to paint two colors on one wall. Can it be done??? The ceiling too? ARGH!! Sometimes the mess may be frustrating, sometimes I may sigh as I look around me; but when push comes to shove, I would have it no other way. I am held captive in creativity, and it is glorious!<br />
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<br />Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-7094318693320774962014-01-18T19:43:00.002-08:002014-01-18T19:43:37.989-08:00Is Social Networking a Bad Thing...I...love...Facebook. Love it. When I approached this in the beginning, I thought it was a great way to share pictures of my family and my growing children. I also liked to use my status updates as a way of making people laugh, a form of entertainment. What I discovered was a platform for people to insult my beliefs, my political stance, everything about me! Sometimes it takes everything inside of me to not argue back or prove them wrong. But I don't. I just scroll on and look for more recipes and kid pictures. I really hate election time when it seems like everyone thinks they will sway my vote by posting propaganda all over the place. In case you are one of those people...you won't. I am educated, I am informed, nothing you say can or will persuade me otherwise. I make it a point to post nothing that shows my political affiliation. I do, however, post things that make fun of both sides because...well let's face it...both sides are pretty hilarious. <br />
<br />
I think what bothers me most is the anger and resentment I sometimes feel. I have, at times, felt so degraded by so-called "friends" that I have "deleted" them because, seriously, who needs that?? Remember when we used to talk on the phone or meet at a restaurant or hang-out? Remember when we had an ounce of decorum when we stated an opinion? With social networking comes a blind courage. A courage normally not shown except through the use of tequila. When you are staring at a monitor, it is so easy to just spill your opinions, insults, whatever for the whole wide world to see. Face to face it is not quite so easy. You may still do it, but you may also get punched in the nose. It is so much easier to run your mouth when no one is staring at you. That is how I try to approach my replies, statuses, disagreements...would I say this to your face? That does not make me a coward if I would not. Sometimes it is best to leave things to yourself. If you want to challenge me, face to face, let's go. I won't back down. But aren't we all entitled to our own opinion? If you think differently than me...who cares?? I don't. You have your reasons and I have mine. Respect that! Geez.<br />
<br />
I miss sitting on my front porch and talking to my neighbors. I miss phone calls about the day's adventures. I miss respect and discussion without insult. Some say the art of conversation is dead. I tend to agree. If not dead, then dying a slow agonizing death. There IS an art to discussing opposing opinions, an art to discussing the world's problems without degrading someone else's opinions. An art to just...talking. Step...away...from the...technology...Call a friend. Meet them for lunch. Sit on your porch. Talk!<br />
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Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-22815236642747386842014-01-01T18:13:00.001-08:002014-01-01T18:16:21.700-08:00Out With the Old, In With the New...Ah, it's the beginning of a new year! A time for reflection and plans, plans for a better more fruitful year ahead. A time to let go of unwanted habits and adopt new ones. Resolutions will be made and resolutions will be broken, it's the cycle of life. The year 2013 brought about so many new and wonderful events and some we would rather forget. I have been thinking about some of the things I would like to keep and some of the things...well, that I could do without.<br />
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<strong>Vocabulary</strong><br />
<br />
2013 offered some interesting new words, like selfie, twerking, cray cray, and hashtag. I read something the other day that said the "selfie" was making us narcissistic. No way! Do you mean to tell me making fish lips and taking a picture of yourself to post online so that everyone can tell you that you look hot is a sign of narcissism?? Nooooooooooo...But that is not my concern with the selfie, my concern with the selfie is all of the pictures I observe with disgusting scum on the bathroom tile behind them. Here's a word for your vocabulary...bleach! <br />
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The one word that I detest, that makes me cringe, that drives me insane...grrrrrrrrrrr...twerking. Argh I hate that word! I hate the act of it, I hate the sound of it, and I hate that Miley Cyrus had to ingrain that image into my mind. Shiver! Dancing should be a flow, a beautiful sexy movement; not your rear end gyrating inexplicably. Ew. <br />
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Hashtag...what an interesting concept. A concept that was originally meant to categorize a status on Twitter, but has now become a form of communication on all correspondence. I don't understand the use of hashtags outside of the Twitter world, it confuses me, and I have a hard time reading phrases without spaces so please make this go away! #makemeinsane #stophashtags #bloggingopinionsrock #amItooold<br />
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I love the word cray cray. It embarrasses my kids when I use it. I love to drive my kids cray cray. #embarassingmom #craycrayrules<br />
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<strong>Television</strong><br />
<br />
Is it just me or is creativity dead? Everything that you see new on television is some kind of new reality show. Now I don't dislike all of them, but some of them are just getting out of hand. I remember when the concept first came out with <em>Survivor</em>, <em>Cops</em>, and <em>Amazing</em> <em>Race</em>. I still like <em>Cops</em> and I like the similar show <em>The First 48</em>, this is closer to reality. I do not keep up with the music shows but the concept seems fair and understandably entertaining. But seriously...<em>Monsters Inside Me</em>...I can't even watch the previews without taking a dose of antibiotic. Then there is <em>Amish Mafia</em>...really? I imagine a dude in a black brim hat and a woman in a bonnet speaking over me in German dialect and threatening me with a sharp icicle...or maybe a knife that they made themselves...without power tools. I saw a commercial for an upcoming series, <em>Sex Sent Me to the ER</em>. Apparently, I have been doing it wrong all of these years...<br />
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What I am looking forward to is Season 3 of <em>Sherlock</em>! I...love...this...program!! I am ready to celebrate January 19th as though it is my birthday! I haven't been this excited about a series since <em>Northern Exposure</em> in the early 90's. Now THAT is good television! This also tells me that I am getting old.<br />
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Kindle or Books?<br />
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This is a serious question for many people. Do you give up the feel of a good book for the technology and convenience of a Kindle. I am wishy-washy on this because I like both. For Christmas I received the book <u>Nine Stories</u> by J.D. Salinger and I love owning it, seeing his name on it, and knowing that my kids and husband picked it out and knew I would like it. Books are awesome! Open up an old book and inhale deeply...intoxicating. On the flip side, going on vacation and packing some reading material, you cannot beat having all of your books in one handy tablet to slide into your suitcase or purse. A suitcase full of books is heavy. I don't like heavy. I am on the fence with this one, just call me Charlie Brown.<br />
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We look at the world around us and want to throw out the junk and hold on to the treasures. We do the same for ourselves. I am hoping that next year when I am reflecting on 2014, I am healthier, skinnier, smarter, and kinder. I also hope I am not twerking or taking a selfie with moldy tiles.<br />
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Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-33015796621433440682013-12-21T08:30:00.000-08:002013-12-21T08:30:50.316-08:00Christmas Thoughts...It's that time of year again. Usually, I like to write a silly thought or observation about the holiday season. This year, however, I just can't find it in my heart to do so. I read the headlines and see the arguments on Facebook and it is just too difficult to make light of any of it. So I won't.<br />
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I found myself caught up in the "Duck Dynasty" scandal and getting all in a tither over it. I mean it has everything...freedom of speech, freedom of religion, gay rights... It is an absolute gold mine for debate. It has made me think and I have learned so much from it, but, I'm not going to write about that.<br />
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I read the headlines and they are covered with child abuse, rape, violence, murder, drugs. I read them and wonder to myself if the entire moral fiber of mankind has completely disappeared. It all haunts and disturbs me. I'm not going to write about that either.<br />
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Christmas is four days away. We are stressed, we are angry, we are fed up. In June 1994, I lost a very dear friend of mine suddenly. His death left me heartbroken. I remember that following Christmas being in the mall doing my Christmas shopping when a carol came over the speaker that touched me deeply. I had to leave the store to find a quiet place to weep. The song reminded me of how I longed for a simpler time. A time when my worries and fears and sadness were not in the forefront of my mind. That song is what I want to share with you...<br />
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Have yourself a merry little Christmas,<br />
Let your heart be light.<br />
From now on,<br />
Our troubles will be out of sight.<br />
<br />
Have yourself a merry little Christmas,<br />
Make the yule-tide gay.<br />
From now on,<br />
Our troubles will be miles away.<br />
<br />
Here we are as in olden days,<br />
Happy golden days of yore.<br />
Faithful friends who are dear to us<br />
Gather near to us once more.<br />
<br />
Through the years we all will be together,<br />
If the fates allow.<br />
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough.<br />
And have yourself, a merry little Christmas now.<br />
<br />
I wish you Peace, I wish you Love, and of course, I wish you a merry little Christmas.Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-22339768155298620462013-12-08T11:24:00.000-08:002013-12-08T11:26:38.810-08:00Why So Mad Bro?Have you ever noticed how people tend to get infuriated over the silliest things? It seems like the slightest occurrence can throw us into a tantrum that would make even the brattiest 2 year old look like an angel. But then on the flip side, the things that should make us livid; we take with a grain of salt. How did we get so confused? People all around us are going hungry, living in poverty, addicted to drugs and we seem to just blow it off. We say, "Isn't that sad..." or "How pathetic..." and go about our day as if nothing happened. We read about a game where teenagers will run up to you on the street and hit you as hard as they can, knocking you unconscious and we just read on and say, "What is this world coming too?" But if you get a game request on your social network...oh my. "I WILL END OUR FRIENDSHIP IF YOU SEND ME ONE MORE GAME REQUEST! I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL!!!" Really? Is it that much of an inconvenience to you? I get them all of the time and guess what I do...ignore them. It's really easy. Just glance and move on. Just like that. I wouldn't lie to you. Then there is the Merry Christmas debate. Is this actually a problem? I mean, isn't the holiday actually called Christmas? Just because you are an atheist, do you not still celebrate in a secular way the holiday of Christmas? But we are worrying ourselves silly about how to wish someone a happy holiday by the use of the actual name of the holiday?? We say "Happy Halloween," "Happy Thanksgiving," "Happy Easter," but when we get to Christmas we go, "Uhhhhhhh..." Personally, I think this is a problem that is fed by the media. I have always said Merry Christmas and everyone I have said it to has always said, "Merry Christmas to you." Is it because they are Christian? Not necessarily. Is it because they are making a political statement? No. It is because that is the name of the holiday. Christmas is not called Holiday, it's Christmas. The whole argument is just silly and everyone seems very up in arms about it. Yet I wonder, how many people have actually said, "I find that offensive. Do not say that to me." I doubt many. My response to that reaction? "Oh. Then I un-Merry your Christmas and Happy New Year." Or should that be Happy Year Change? Hmmmmmm...<br />
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There are things in this world worthy of getting angry over. Sometimes I think if we put the same passion into the real injustices of the world that we put into the things that do not matter, maybe just maybe, the world would be a better place. What if instead we took a stand against (in no order of importance) prejudice, sexual abuse, drug trafficking, poor education system, degradation of women, human trafficking, child abuse, elderly abuse, hunger, goodness sakes I could go on and on. If we stood up for these things with the zeal of rejecting game requests...wouldn't this world be a better place in which to live? Oh yeah I think so...Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-24511255300477354832013-11-24T10:51:00.001-08:002013-11-24T13:11:42.948-08:00Thanksgiving Memories...The holiday season is upon us yet again. In a few days we will be sitting with our families devouring turkey, dressing, and pumpkin pie until we pass out. I absolutely love this time of year! I love the fall season and the coming weeks following Thanksgiving full of Christmas decorations and music. It always makes me think of holidays past and memories of family gatherings. None are Norman Rockwell worthy, however, (unless Rockwell had a comic strip I didn't know about) but beautiful just the same. <br />
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I saw a cartoon once that read, "Thanksgiving, bringing out the best in family dysfunction since 1863." Ha!! That is perfect! Does that mean I have bad memories of Thanksgiving past? Absolutely not! I have wonderful memories, wonderful, hilarious memories. Growing up, Dad would always go hunting early that morning while Mom prepared dinner. My brother and I would watch the Macy's Thanksgiving parade and stay out of the way. That was our job. My Dad would return around lunchtime with my grandparents and uncle to have dinner. This was always exciting because that was the only time they came to our house. My uncle would usually have had a little to drink before arriving so he was just a bit tipsy. We didn't mind though because these were the times he would get on the floor with us and play and laugh at all of our never ending stories. I thought I was hilarious when I talked with him. Sober or not he was always kind, but when he was drinking, I became a comedian. We would sit down to dinner and Dad would say grace, then the devouring began. Papaw could not hear a thing which drove Mamaw insane! "What was that?" "HE SAID IT'S SUPPOSED TO SNOW THIS WEEKEND! He can't hear himself fart," she would say annoyed. My brother and I would giggle at them because it was certainly giggle-worthy. My uncle would giggle too which made us laugh even more. Mamaw would continue without notice and observe my Papaw again, "Wipe your mouth." "What?" "WIPE YOUR MOUTH! Good lord you are deaf." By this time my uncle is giggling again and we are snorting cranberry sauce out of our noses. It may sound odd to everyone else but to me, it was great. I still laugh when I think of it. After dinner, we would sit around and listen to the adults talk and hear the latest gossip from "back home," as my parents called it. I never knew who was who and how they were related to me but the stories were still interesting nonetheless. I loved to listen to Mamaw tell a tale and then laugh her big, infectious laugh. It was a beautiful laugh that I can still hear in my mind. Oh how I miss that lovely laugh. Those were the days.<br />
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Time passed and so did family. My uncle and grandparents have passed on and now it is my brother and I driving to see Granny and Papaw with our families. The kids steal the show with their antics and funny sayings. My brother listens to his niece and nephew's endless stories with the same interest that my uncle listened to ours (wishing he had a little to drink too I'm guessing). I do miss the antics of my grandparent's yearly tiffs. All couples relate differently, they had their ways that some may find strange. Strange or not it was certainly entertaining. Occasionally, my brother and I will share a memory at the table and begin laughing hysterically and once again snort cranberry sauce out our noses. Mom and Dad just look at us like aliens and wonder how they brought such strange people into this world and at least there is still hope with the grandchildren. Oh how I love Thanksgiving!<br />
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So what will I be thankful for as I sit around the family table this Thanksgiving? Wow there is so much it is hard to list everything... But one thing is for sure, I will be thankful for family and for the beautiful dysfunction that carved such wonderful memories that are still as clear in my mind today as they were 30 years ago. Happy Thanksgiving! Enjoy the beautiful dysfunction! Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-14460327442467174622013-11-10T10:15:00.000-08:002014-02-19T08:27:36.080-08:00Pets, pets, PETS!!We have so many pets. So, so many... Don't get me wrong, I do like them and in some cases I love them. I am not, however, Jack Hanna. I do not find the same joy in pet ownership as some do. When I started this excursion, I had 1 dog, 1 cat, 1 guinea pig; it was like a version of Noah's Ark, a representation of every species. But then my daughter developed into an animal lover and then I married an animal lover, so now we have expanded. Over the years, we have had 3 dogs, 2 cats, 2 guinea pigs, 2 rabbits, 1 fish, and 1 ferret. Whew! That is a lot of poop. We now have 2 dogs, Rex and Daisy, 2 cats, Pip and Tiger, 1 guinea pig, Coco, and 1 ferret, Gypsy. Still a lot of poop. My job has fallen on poop patrol. This may be why I am less excited about the growth of our furry family. My daughter and husband feed them so they are both the favorites of all the animals. Me? I am guessing that as they watch me scoop, wipe, and clean up their fecal gifts, they are thinking to themselves, "Look at that weirdo messing with our poop, how strange." I am so under-appreciated.<br />
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I do enjoy all of their funny personalities. Tiger the cat is the owner. I say that because that is the attitude he emits, "All of you 4 legged members? I own you. All of you 2 legged members? I own you too." Tiger perches atop the back of the couch and surveys his domain. It's good to be king. Daisy the dog is always happy, and I mean ALWAYS. She greets everyone as though she has not seen them for ages, even if it is just for a couple of minutes, "You're home! Oh thank God you are home! I missed you! I thought you were gone forever! I love you! Love me! I need to lick your face! I missed you!" She is one of those dogs that actually smiles. I love it when a dog smiles, makes them almost human. Adorable! Dogs love so unconditionally. As my husband likes to say, "Lock your wife and your dog in the trunk of a car for two hours and then open it up and see who is happy to see you." Yeah, it would be the dog, but I don't suggest he test that. <br />
<br />
I find it amazing how pet ownership has changed since when I was growing up. When I was a kid, if you decided to get the family a dog it was a simple process. Pick out dog. Build doghouse. Buy food and bowls. Take to vet once a year. Love. Pretty simple, don't you think? Not anymore! Now we are no longer pet owners but pet parents. Need a toy or food bowl for Fido? There are now whole department stores for that. You can take your pet for a day of pampering at the spa. Really? I want to go for a day of pampering at the spa...all I get is poop duty. You no longer just go and pick out a collar by color, this is now serious business. Your posh puppy deserves more than just that nylon boredom from Wal-Mart. What kind of pet parent are you?? I have to be real here folks. I have yet to see a dog throwing a temper tantrum because the collar given to them was not a Coach. Let me give you a little insight here...DOGS...DON'T...CARE!! They love you!! Period. They do not love you more because you take them to the spa, or give them designer collars, or dress them in the latest fashion. They love you because that is what they do. Take them for walks, feed them well, let them sit on your lap and rub their furry little bellies and they will love you. And no matter how much money you spend; you will never, ever, be able to out-love them. Never.<br />
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Maybe I led a sheltered life, I'm not sure. I have seen a huge increase in dog breeds. I have always been partial to the "mutt" myself and highly recommend your local shelter for your next pet. Some, however, love that pure breed. It used to be, when my Chihuahua mated with your Yorkshire Terrier, there was going to be a neighborly feud because I have now "ruined" your precious Fifi. These days, you now have a Chorkie! My favorite is the Dachshund/Yorkshire Terrier combination...the Dorkie! I am waiting for the day that the Dorkie is allowed in the Westminster Dog Show. What a glorious day! Can you imagine? "We will now be seeing the toy breeds. Here you see Mr. Pickles a registered Dorkie. My what a fine specimen of Dork he is!" I promise I will have a party that day...pretzels, cake, Chex mix...mark it on your calendars. One type of breed that I just cannot wrap my head around are the hairless breeds. Shiver! My daughter wants one of those Chinese Crested hairless dogs. I just do not understand. One of the great things about having a dog is snuggling up to that soft, warm fur. If I wanted to snuggle up to something bald and bristly, I would snuggle up to my husband's butt! And have you seen those bald cats?? They look like that creepy little guy from "Lord of the Rings" remember him, "My precioussssssssss." Yikes!! It is an ever-changing world folks. Indeed.<br />
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I have to admit that these pets do add to our lives: companionship, unconditional love, a constant friend. There is never a dull moment around here, that is for sure. And maybe, just maybe, I love them a little more than I let on. I mean really, I spend every day cleaning their poop. I wouldn't do that for just ANYBODY...<br />
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<br />Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-83387309775560383582013-04-06T15:42:00.000-07:002013-04-06T15:42:27.720-07:00March Madness or Madly in Love...There's a lot of things that can go wrong in a marriage...adultery, financial stress, irreconcilable differences. Every day we wake up and choose to love our mate one more day. Some couples manage to make this look easy, but what about those who married "outside the box." Those who said, "I don't care what my friends say! I don't care what my family says! I don't care about what society thinks! I love you dammit!" Those are the ones who should be held up in admiration...those are the ones who should write books and lead seminars. Living on the fringe of society...I know this challenge. I understand what lies ahead. I, a Kentucky Wildcat fan, have chosen with a clear mind and open heart, to love a Louisville Cardinal fan. I choose every morning as I roll over and see his Cardinal-loving face...to love this man. Every time I open my closet and see the endless red shirts with that stupid ass bird on them...I choose to love him. Every Final Four I prepare for the yelling match that will ensue if our teams meet on the court...but...I still choose love. And even now, as the Big Blue Nation sits back and waits for a better year next year; even now, as my husband watches his Louisville team on television as they play in the Final Four; even now, as I sit in the kitchen flipping him off through the wall because he is yelling at said television...I choose to love this man. Marriage is tough. March Madness is tougher... Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-15647271287743831592013-03-31T14:15:00.000-07:002013-04-01T15:35:48.356-07:00Don't Make Me Style Your Hair!I have to admit, I am a hot-tempered little lass. I can spew anger and hatefulness like a fountain flowing freely from my mouth. This leads people to believe that I have been in my share of hair pulling brawls...nah. I have never been in a fight, in fact, I'm quite the chicken in some ways. I make sure all of the doors are locked at night. I lock the doors of my car...just in case. When walking thru a dark parking lot, my finger is always on my alarm button. If Mike works an overnight, my trusty pistol lies lovingly on my nightstand. My moment of greatest vulnerability, however, is taking a shower when I am home alone. Anthony Perkins in the movie "Psycho" will forever be ingrained in my memory. *shiver* I always make sure the bathroom door is locked and I have to admit I occasionally peek out of the shower curtain, just to make sure an ax murderer did not sneak in while I was soaping up my hair. A girl can never be too careful...<br />
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The other morning I was home alone and showering, behind locked doors of course, when I heard three loud thumps; it sounded like someone tripping and catching themselves on the wall. I froze. What do I do? I'm in the bathroom! The pistol is in the bedroom! Oh...my...GAWD!!! I turned the water off and jumped out dripping wet. There's no time to dry off, I gotta go kill a guy. I grab my robe. Have you ever put on a fleece robe soaking wet? I jerked and tugged and wrestled with it until I think I dislocated my shoulder. Then...I select my weapon. I got it! Hairspray. Will I bop him over the head with it, knocking my assailant unconscious. No. I shall spray him in his eyes till he is blind, grab his gun with silencer (I'm sure he knows better than to come at me with less) and pistol whip that boob until he cries for his mother. That or I will style his hair like no other. I open the door quickly so as to catch him off guard, hairspray in hand. Dripping wet, shoulder aching, hairspray can rusting beneath my sweaty grip, I find the culprit. Stupid cat. I put away the hairspray and finish my shower. Note to self...purchase terry robe...Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-16878420756674238012013-02-02T08:47:00.000-08:002013-02-02T09:44:45.645-08:00For Better or Worse, In Sickness and In Health...Finally! Today is the first day in the last four I have felt at least a little like myself. The fog is lifting from four days of sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy-head fever, good Lord I wish I could rest funk! It was miserable, but I have to say, my husband Mike took very good care of me. He took care of things while I was down, prepared food for the kids, ran the errands, overall a regular Fred Nightingale. I am quite positive, that when he repeated his vows, he did not truly grasp the "for better or worse...in sickness and in health" part. I'm not sure any of us really think about that when we get married, we are just in luuuuuuuuv. Now obviously, sickness carries far deeper implications than my last four days of SnotFest 2013. But the fact of the matter is, after what Mike witnessed over the last week, he will eventually have to have sex with me again. I had a consistent stream of disgusting liquids coming out of most of my facial orifices, surrounded by used white chunks of toilet paper...otherwise referred to as redneck tissues. I sat with my mouth gaped open (since I can't breathe through my nose) and my eyes half closed. The bags underneath my eyes drooped down to my boobs and my skin was the color of blech. I bathed, well once...and brushed my teeth...I think. My nose, lips, and surrounding skin were so chapped that I slathered my face in Vaseline petroleum jelly...shiny! I have been coughing continuously soooooooooo, yep...peed my pants...a LOT! Last night I drug my shiny faced, greasy headed, nasty breath, b.o. smellin sick self to bed coated in Vick's Vapor Rub. Wrapped up like a menthol lyptus mummy, I snored like an old man...but Mike still loves me. Eventually the last few days images will fade away and he will find me desirable again because that's the promise we made to each other. As gross as you may be, I will still have sex with you... The institute of marriage is a beautiful thing!Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-40888488191877249542013-01-21T07:55:00.002-08:002013-01-21T07:55:53.039-08:00Inauguration Day, History in the Making...Once again we are observing another inauguration, the 44th president of the United States has been sworn in with a public inauguration on Martin Luther King Day. Wow. How symbolic is THAT?? I never thought in my lifetime I would see an African American President be sworn in once, much less for a second term...then on top of that to be sworn in on MLK Day. Amazing! I can only imagine what Dr. King would have thought of all of this. He believed that this would happen within 40 years. He BELIEVED that?? He was right!! What a historic moment! <br />
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President Barack Obama will use two bibles, one belonging to Abraham Lincoln and one belonging to Martin Luther King Jr. As symbolic as this is, I find it interesting that the use of a bible is not a requirement but merely a tradition. Two presidents chose not to use the bible in their inauguration... John Quincy Adams and Theodore Roosevelt. It is uncertain why Roosevelt chose not to, however Adams made it clear as to why he chose differently. President John Quincy Adams, a religious man, chose to use instead a U.S. book of laws. He said that he, "wanted to demonstrate that he recognized a barrier between church and state and that his loyalty was to our nation's laws above all else." (<a href="http://www.cnn.com/">www.cnn.com</a>) I LOVE this!!! I am a huge supporter in the separation of church and state. Many of my church friends will not agree, but I feel that you cannot run a country based on the beliefs of ONE religion, Christianity. The Christian faith may be my faith of choice, however, it is divided in several denominations with different views and ideas. Which faith would lead a nation? That is a question you have to ask. Romney was Mormon. Would a Mormon lead the country the same as a Baptist? I think not. Not that one is right and one is wrong, they are just different. The founding fathers were mostly Unitarian or Deists. They were not the old southern Baptists that many would like to picture. The church also forgets one important point, everything is a two way street. If the church can be meshed in government, then government can be meshed in the church. That is how it works. So be careful what you wish for...just sayin...<br />
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With that little soapbox moment behind me, I look toward the next four years with hope. Hope that we can come together as a nation to deal with the issues of our time. Hope for a less violent environment. Hope for a better economy where the average man can actually save a little as opposed to just getting by. Hope for a president with much on his shoulders. Hope.Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-61330964029294989202012-12-31T17:50:00.000-08:002012-12-31T17:50:19.329-08:00Here We Go Again...Another year has come and gone. Now's the time for reflection, plans, and promises. Last year I said I wanted to be nicer. Damn...that lasted about a day. Maybe some people keep their resolutions. Maybe there is a beautiful place where everyone quits smoking and cussing while they lose ten pounds. Naw...no such thing. That's just crazy talk. We all break our resolutions but they are nice things to consider. This year is going to be different though. This year I plan on making resolutions I KNOW I can keep.<br />
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<em>Eat plenty of chocolate</em> - This year I shall eat enough chocolate to keep me happy. In these tough economic times I promise to do what I can to support Hershey's and cocoa farmers. <br />
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<em>Have more sex</em> - Yeah I said it!! And I can too...I'm married you little prudes. This should be a standard resolution for everyone...well unless you're a perv or something...then you should probably slow down.<br />
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<em>Eat red meat</em> - I feel like we should do what we can to control the cow population. If we don't eat them we shall be over run by cows in the streets...destruction will ensue. Tragedy I tell you. Tragedy!!! More steak and hamburgers! I am doing it for humanity.<br />
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<em>Make fun of stupid people</em> - I mean really, this is just entertaining. <br />
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<em>Exercise more</em> - HA! Only kidding, wanted to make sure you were paying attention.<br />
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Now it's time to ring in the new year with my new goals. Let's hear it for Auld Lang Syne!!Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-6316863901011195512012-12-25T09:05:00.003-08:002012-12-25T09:05:51.488-08:00Christmas Past...This year at Christmas, I am spending Christmas Day alone. The kids are at their dad's, my husband is working a twelve hour shift, 7 a.m. till 7 p.m. I am left here doing clean up and watching "A Christmas Story" over and over again. Sounds more depressing than it is I guess. We had our Christmas on the 23rd and spent yesterday just enjoying the loot and relaxing. The kids need a do-nothing day with all of the traveling they have to do this time of year. Mom's, dad's, grandparents', stepfamilies'...its a lot, that's for sure! I am thankful that everywhere they go they are loved, blood relation or not. But I must admit, I long for a traditional Christmas like I enjoyed when I was a kid. Being alone today is certainly making me a bit nostalgic.<br />
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When I was growing up, we went to visit our grandparents the weekend before Christmas. They lived about an hour away and did not carry on like we do today. Granny Adams had ten children and my mother was the baby. So Granny was older and didn't cook a big meal, but she always had biscuits and gravy left over when we visited. I have never been able to find biscuits and gravy that tasted like hers...mmmmmmm. She cooked with lard and on a wood burning stove, so I'm sure I will never find that again. She also had a gazillion grandkids and great grandkids, not to mention a bunch of children of her own; so she did not buy presents. We didn't care. I just loved being there with her. She always greeted us at the door with a hug and a big kiss. Her knees did not bend well so she had trouble walking. Her skin was a beautiful shade of brown from years of working out in the garden. Her hair was always up in a bun. It looked salt and pepper gray but when she took it down to comb it, it was long and black with one gray stripe down the side. Beautiful. She wore a house dress with a full apron, every time we saw her. I still hold her in the same esteem I might hold Mother Teresa. I miss her so.<br />
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My Mamaw Bush always had a present for us. She had a total of four grandchildren so it was easier for her. I always loved her gifts but most of all, I loved her laugh. She had a great laugh. She was no Mother Teresa either, full of spunk and sass. As much as I would like to say I take after my Granny with her easy going ways, I am definitely my Mamaw Bush's granddaughter! Bridling that tongue would be like taming the wildest of broncos...not going to happen. I loved to hear her stories, because they always produced that wonderful, wonderful laugh. Missing her today.<br />
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My mother always decked the house out for Christmas. Today, her trees seem so regal. Filled with beautiful ornaments and memories that she has collected over a lifetime. As a child, we would drape the doorways with plastic holly garland. The tree held felt angels, deer, and Santas with silver garland and was lit up by large colored bulbs that were hot to the touch. During the season, we would go to my grandmother's and get pine that Mom would weave into a wreath and garland for the porch. It was magic! I always thought that Santa's house looked much like ours. On Christmas Eve, we were allowed to open two gifts. The first was our Christmas pajamas and secondly was my brother and I's gift to each other. We hung our stockings before going to bed. I had the same stocking my entire childhood. It was red felt with a white cuff and had a Santa holding gifts with a sign that read, "Merry Christmas." Mom sewed my name on the cuff and I thought it looked AWESOME! I loved that stocking and still love it today. It is boxed up somewhere at my mother's house but it still survives...somewhere. <br />
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Christmas morning was full of excitement! We got out of bed at the break of dawn and woke my tired parents. We ripped open our gifts and were elated with our bounty. We rarely received toys throughout the year which made Christmas so much more special. We never cried over not liking our gifts, it was unheard of. After gifts, Mom made a huge Christmas breakfast with eggs and ham from Christmas dinner the day before. It was delicious! At some point during the day, I would find time to be in the living room alone, look up at the star (or angel, depending on the year) and say aloud, "Happy Birthday Baby Jesus." I don't know if my parents ever saw me do that and I never told anyone that until now. Christmas was so simple back then, so traditional.<br />
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Today I still love Christmas, but it is so much more complicated. Maybe it is partly due to looking at it through the eyes of an adult instead of a child. My kids live in two homes and have not had a traditional Christmas for about seven years now. They have their scheduled visits with both parents and several family functions to attend. And the gifts...oh my the gifts!! They get so much! They are great kids though and seem to appreciate what they receive from everyone. They love all of their family and are loved and accepted everywhere they go. I hope that they are able to feel the magic of Christmas as I did as a child. I hope there is still that spark of wonder...Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-30597730074917599832012-11-24T18:03:00.000-08:002012-11-24T18:03:58.229-08:00Technology Is Waaaay Cool...Well, I'm back. It has been awhile since I have written in my blog. Did you miss me? See it was like this...my computer crashed and the monitor was going bad and beyond repair. My husband's computer works, but did not support the program the blog uses for me to update it. It was very frustrating during the election. MAN I had some good stuff! Oh well, I'll save it in the archives of my brain along with birthdays and grocery lists...aw dang, it's gone. Good news is we purchased a new computer! This thing is AMAZING! It has Windows 8 which is awesome and new or something and as soon as my 12 year old son comes home, I am hoping he will show me how it works. The screen is as big as a TV screen which is great right now because I can make these letters HUGE and can actually see them. Who would have thought?? Supposedly this thing has a touch screen...I tried to advance my page and knocked over my glass of wine. (google stain removal later) Guess I need to read up more on that. I haven't figured out how to type on a document yet...I guess there is a generic program in there somewhere, I'd look for it but I'm afraid of knocking my wine over again. I have Microsoft Office somewhere that I could install. I think it is somewhere near my birthday and grocery list and by my election material. Geez! Am I going to be one of those old people at the library taking a computer class?? I used to know this stuff man! I was taught word processing on a Radio Shack Tandy dammit!! And yes, we called it word processing, don't ask. Oh no...will I have to start writing on notebook paper? With a pen?? Noooooooooo! Ok, I gotta calm down. I can learn this. Technology is my friend, technology is my friend... Anyway, technology is waaay cool now, just wish I was! Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-79560735426015966892012-09-14T16:16:00.001-07:002012-09-14T16:16:31.645-07:00Interview Questions That I Hate...Looking for a new job is taxing to say the least. I really dislike the entire process, especially filling out applications...Yuck!! But eventually, all of the time you have put into your resume' and your job application pays off and you are called for an interview...Yes!! Personally, I prepare for an interview by thinking of possible interview questions and how I could possibly answer them...or should I say...how I could possibly fabricate an answer that seems somewhat truthful. Don't judge me! You know you do it too! I mean let's get real, some of these questions are just ridiculous. For example...<br />
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Question: How do you handle a policy change in your company that you do not agree with or like? <br />
The right answer would probably be...I would go to my superior and ask questions and try to better understand the policy...or...I really feel I am flexible with change and roll with the punches.<br />
Truth: I complain in the breakroom with everyone else until I finally just get used to it and accept it.<br />
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Question: Tell me how you handled a difficult or unhappy client?<br />
This one isn't so bad because most of us can pull an example where a successful ending came into play and an angry/unhappy client walked away satisfied. BUT...you never share the...<br />
Truth: I told him I am not arguing with you anymore about this, that's the rule, stop cussing at me, I do not get paid enough for that!!<br />
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Question: How do you handle working with a difficult coworker?<br />
The right answer would probably be that I try to find a common ground or I make sure I am being helpful and offering support.<br />
Truth: I tell them to get their ass back to their desk or I will go in the breakroom and spit on their lunch!!<br />
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Question: What is your favorite animal and why?<br />
This was an actual questioned that a friend of mine was asked in an interview. I have no idea what the right answer would be but there are several answers to be had...<br />
Truth: I like pythons because they choke their prey. I like tigers because they eat their prey. I like cats because they are quiet and can sneak up on people. I like birds because they can poop on people's heads...seriously I could go on forever.<br />
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Question: What is your greatest weakness?<br />
My favorite answer that I have heard is, "I really can't think of any right now." That one is golden! Probably the best answer would be something about how you are too hard on yourself or that you could always be more organized, blah, blah, blah...<br />
Truth: When I get stressed out, a fountain of cuss words flow from my mouth that can only be rivaled by the oldest sailor at the darkest dock.<br />
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Be honest in your interviews...but much like my husband's hearing...be selective.Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-55361336845658693922012-07-04T09:31:00.001-07:002012-07-04T09:31:29.003-07:00The Misadventures of Being Married to a CrackheadLet me start by saying my husband, Mike, has been sober for almost 7 years. I did not know him when he was an addict/alcoholic, nor would I have wanted to. I have always known the man who devotes his life to helping other people recover from their addiction with his own life experiences, positive attitude and sense of humor. I would, however, be remiss in saying that I am not aware of the fact that addiction is a disease and all recovering addicts live with the possibility of a relapse if they become lax in their "program." With that said, hence goes my story...<br />
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I am getting ready for work the other morning and am preparing my clothes for the day. I do not iron. I refuse to iron. In short, I hate ironing. So every morning, I fluff my clothes in the dryer. On this particular morning I go to put my clothes in the dryer and find that Mike has left a load in there. I pull his clothes out (yes my husband does his own laundry) and place mine in, turn it on, and walk away. I return to the familiar sound of "chunga-chunk, chunga-chunk," probably a coin left in my pocket. I remove my clothes and find the culprit...a small, mis-shapen white rock and a clear baggy. What the heck is this?? I remove it and study it...Oh my god...oh...my...god...ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod!!!! Is this crack? It looks like crack...ohmygod...what do I do?? Well first I look around my laundry room like some wise man is going to appear and advise me. Ok Lisa, calm down. I have never seen crack before except in episodes of "Cops," maybe I am overreacting. I go to my computer and google "Images of crack cocaine." I am hoping that there is no one monitoring my computer searches, otherwise they will find Buddhism, museums in Frankfort, Ky., and images of crack cocaine...I obviously need to be separated from society. I look at the pictures...oh my god...oh...my...god...ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod! This looks just like CRACK!!!! Now what???? How could Mike have relapsed?? We still have money in the bank?? My son's XBox is still in his room?? He came home last night???? How could this be????? I will confront him. Yes, that is what I must do. I go to the bedroom where he is sleeping and hold out my hand with the rock in it, "Mike, what is this?" He looks at it curiously...picks it up and licks it. "DON'T LICK IT!!!" Can't you die from that??? He hands it back to me..."It's peppermint." WHAT???? I lick it...oh yeah...it is peppermint. Heh, heh...peppermint...imagine that. Guess I better go hit an Al-Anon meeting...my husband is obviously smoking peppermint...Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-4253224466438799622012-03-17T18:59:00.000-07:002012-03-17T18:59:03.158-07:00Blind Date Horror Story...<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I hate blind dates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The problem with blind dates is you go on a date and wish to GOD you were blind…and deaf…and numb…ugh!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Worst blind date ever; I mean EVER!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A friend of mine fixed me up with a fella from a prominent family, good breeding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought, “Why not?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What could go wrong?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, just read on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He arrives at my doorstep, dumpy and balding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let me explain first that I have no issue with baldness, baldness can be very sexy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Allowing those fuzzball things going down the side of your head…not so much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I was saying, he arrives at my doorstep not so attractive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We go to dinner and I spend the next hour listening to story after story about how horrible his ex wife was and how badly she treated him during his divorce.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Strike one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He then begins to talks about his career.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Normally this would include something to the effect of, “I went to college and majored in (insert major here) then I went to work at (insert company here)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I now am at (again, insert company here) and (love/hate) it…blah, blah, blah.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could not get that lucky.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My date begins to talk about how he got into the computer business.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First, he was going to college where he was on the library computer, his friend had hacked a bank and he had hacked the Pentagon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>FBI came in and took them into custody, they interrogated them and then gave them the choice…go to jail or work for them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His friend took the deal but him…no he held out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s hot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He decided to work on a contract basis because, as you know, this is how the FBI works.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’re such wimps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This begins the adventure otherwise known as his imaginary career.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When the U.S. is in need…when they have nowhere to turn…they go to HIM.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh yes, don’t you doubt this…helicopters have met him at his home where he has climbed that infamous rope ladder (you know, like you see in the movies) and has been whisked away to Washington D.C. to save my ass. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t you doubt that!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s a hero dang it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Other times a private plane has met him at the local army depot to take him straight to the president to save our butts…yes, I had the opportunity to meet this man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t hate…appreciate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You would think I would stop there and say that he went home, I never saw him again, and life went on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh no.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It gets better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After he tells me of his career adventures, I get to hear of his medical ailments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God help me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You see, he is diabetic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If there is a cure for diabetes, by golly, he will be there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is the subject of a controversial drug that has some serious side effects.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You see, if he takes this medication, the side effect is death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If he stops the medication, he will die.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is what you call being stuck between a rock and a hard place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sucks to be you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The good news is, the other side effect is dry orgasms so he is now 100% sterile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No lie, this is our first and ONLY date.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have spent the entire evening with a spy who has no sperm count.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a wonder I’m not a lesbian…</span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span></div>Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-40558171657826896222011-12-31T16:29:00.000-08:002011-12-31T16:29:37.197-08:00New Year's Resolution? Be Nice...It's that time of year again...a new year means new ideas. So what shall it be this year...hmmmmm...lose weight? Organize? What??? Well I would like to lose a pound or two and who couldn't be more organized? I would also like to do more writing and read more...BUT...what will be my New Year's Resolution!? Simple...be nice. You would think that being nice is easy but unfortunately...its not! It is SO difficult! I lose count in a day how many people I call "idiot" when I'm driving down the road. I wish I could say I drive a long commute to work but alas...I live 10 minutes away! Ugh! Most of my fit happens sitting in the line at school to drop off my daughter! I think I need to be medicated. God be with you if I happen to get hungry. I will punch a person in the face if my sugar level drops! Starvation and a boxing ring and I may have a new career! (considers this for a moment) <br />
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Being nice isn't just a problem for me, it seems to be a problem for society in general. Don't act so innocent...you know what I'm talking about. We want what we want and we want it now! We use to have to cook for hours to prepare a meal. Now we can stick it in the microwave and have it ready in three and a half minutes but at two we are screaming, "Hurry up!!!! ARGH!" We used to have phones attached to walls...remember those? Not only that, they had a rotary dial! It took days to make a call...Heaven help you if your number had 9's in it. NO ONE is calling you! Now we have phones that we carry in our pocket, access the internet, send written messages instantly and we are pissed cause we can't get a call in the middle of the wilderness in a rainstorm. So don't judge me...we could all stand to be a little nicer... Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5583959729864775233.post-90915455765640266302011-12-23T17:15:00.000-08:002011-12-23T17:15:26.211-08:00Handy Uses for Ex Husbands...You might ask, "Wow. I have this ex husband on my hands and well...he's kind of getting in the way. What can I do? Should I recycle?" Don't just let him stand there in the middle of your life collecting bitterness...get some good use out of him! There's plenty of ways to make that ex husband of yours as handy as your favorite spatula!<br />
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<strong><em>Doorstop</em></strong> - Who couldn't use a doorstop? We ALL could! Let the sunshine in and set that heavy little burden against that door. You can even brighten him up with a little glitter or even rhinestones!<br />
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<strong><em>Hammer</em></strong> - Need to hang a picture on your wall but can't find your hammer? No worries!! Your ex husband's head is so hard you can use it to beat those nails right into the wall. Wow!! Now THAT is useful!!! <br />
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<strong><em>Mailbox</em></strong> - Did those pesky kids tear up your mailbox again? That's ok...set your ex husband out by the curb and use HIM as your mailbox! His mouth is so big...it can even hold UPS packages. Amazing!!<br />
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<strong><em>Fertilizer</em></strong> - Wishing you had red ripe tomatoes like grandma? Have your ex husband stand in the middle of your garden and watch! He is so full of shit your tomatoes will start winning ribbons at the fair! Yum!<br />
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<strong><em>Coat Rack</em></strong> - Stop hanging your coat on the back of your kitchen chair! Just place your ex husband in the corner of your living room or breezeway and throw that coat right over his head. Doesn't that look better? Why yes it does!<br />
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So many uses...try some of these at home and see what you think!Crazy Feminist Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01174164616235216263noreply@blogger.com0