conversations

3 things before I dive into my latest ranting.

1. People tend to talk to me. I don’t know why it’s always been like that...people tend to tell me things that perhaps they shouldn’t. Maybe it’s because I’m loud. Maybe it’s because I just so happen to be there at the right time and place who knows.

2. I won’t mention where I was when these two conversations happened....just in case the very few people that read my blog know these people or know of someone who knows these people.

3. On my musing about one of the conversations I’m going to come off as super judgmental...I try to see both sides to every story...but what this woman told me, a stranger just totally took me off guard.

Convo 1:
Lady told me that after 52 years of marriage her spouse was going to have his second open heart surgery in SD tomorrow. She didn’t think he was going to make it...She decorated for Xmas just to make things nice for him. Of course there was more detail than that but you get the gist of it. I listened to every word this viejita told me. I asked questions, made sure she had family to help/care for her and wished her luck....because I knew that if I was lucky to have been married to W for that long I would probably be there someday also. The circumstances will be different of course...but one day I might be the little old lady wanting to let the world know the man I love might not be around by the weekend.


Convo 2:
Lady at counter told me her daughter had thrown her life away (didn’t give me details) married the wrong man and now she was raising her grandchildren. But, she was thinking of putting them in foster care because maybe that would let her daughter know that she wasn’t going to take care of things any more for her. When she told me this I just blankly stared at her & told myself not to answer. I gave her a hard look, thanked her and left. WTF? She sits there looking like the Mexican Sarah Palalin all dressed up, nice makeup & cloths....telling me she’d toss her grandchildren aside like a stray cat? For me personally....oh hell no those are my blood, my grand babies. How the hell do I know if someone is going to treat them with love, compassion, and kindness....I don’t care if their mama is a crack head I would not, could not do so. I honestly would have to be terminally ill, crazy as fuck where I thought I was a duck, or so old I constantly peed myself while thinking I was a duck in a freaking streaming lake to not have my grand babies with me.... The second she told me that I was so angry with her I could have slapped her.

Senor Cullen

So Miss Tortilla sent me Twilight...told myself I wasn't going to touch it till after my chemistry final..but ya know I hate Chemistry & love vampires so I started reading it of course.

AND I can say that "yes, I get it." I get why all these teenage, middle age, old age whatever woman & gay men are loving it. Edward is bad boy perfection. He's got the heart of gold with the danger factor. SAFE DANGER? The Edward character is so well written he effortlessly strokes the mind, heart, and nocha of a woman. This lady Miss Meyer was seducing herself while she wrote this book & it worked.

The girl Bella is clumsy & plain...but he loves her for her scent. She's got the right sent for just him. How beautifully introduced is that....she was letting her audience know "hey any one of us can have a sexy caring bad boy vampire..."

ONE THING....and I can hear the hiss from readers already. Edward gives me the creeps. Yes, I said it...he watches her sleep, listens to all her conversations....teases her but can't bump uglies with her because he might hurt her....creepy!!! Sorry chicas I need friction that doesn't work for me. AND don't stick around 24/7 because I will come to hate you. A person needs to fart, shower, poop...whatever in peace. Alas, I've never been a romantic..guess that's why I married the most unromantic man in the universe & am totally happy...maybe that's why Edward bless his sexy white ass doesn't work for me.

I will however finish the book & probably read the others.... freaking Anne Rice has gone Christain on me I needed a good vampire book.

Viva la Twilight!

hungry

Allow me to bitch a moment....The bastards in charge decided to announce today what all of America with a pulse knows....we are in a recession. Ya think, assholes.

Anyway in my best Jerry Seinfeld impersonation "What is up with the cost of food?" I go to 4 different grocery stores. I buy only whats on sale. I use/clip coupons, buy extra coupons online (www.couponclippers.com) and yet every paycheck I'm having to stretch a dollar more and more to keep the fridge & pantry stocked. I was the worst offender when it came to eating out because I really dislike cooking. BUT when we bought a home we knew that my drive thru/take out/give the waitress/waiter a decent tip days had to end & we would only be eating out on occasion....fine, cut my veins, fine. Saturday on a now rare eating out occasion we decided to go out to my favorite restaurant (I don't want to say Mexican restaurant because really aren't they all? There's a Mexican in every kitchen doesn't matter if he/she is cooking barbecue....) Ya, that was kinda racist... So what, I'm half beaner....it's the truth. Anyway...their prices went up. When I first started eating there the tacos were about a $1.25 now they are $3.25 for one flipping taco. Guess I won't be seeing them for a while.

The cost of putting dinner on the table is making the freegans looks like geniuses (http://freegan.info/). It's your repulsion to get over with of course. I'm damn close to becoming granola...

I caught myself paying very close attention to 17 Kids and Counting (http://tlc.discovery.com/tv/17-kids-and-counting/duggar-family.html) when they showed how they make their own laundry detergent...These crazy baby producing people need their respect though, watching their show today they explained that they in fact own their own land, live debt free, and pay almost everything in cash...including their $1900.00 grocery bill. Go Daddy & Mama Dugger....

I'm considering starting a garden in the nana's backyard...forget the fact that I kill every plant I have ever been in charge of. Note: the plants in my home are cared for by the nana...I am only their roomate.

My question is when I was little I was told to eat my food because the kids in China are starving....will there come a day that the Chinese children are told to eat their food because the American kids are starving?

birds & bird brains

BIRDS:

I don't like flying poop,

and that is why I dislike/hate birds. My bird distrust started right after watching the very famous Alfred Hitchcock film The Birds...After that any large group of birds made me nervous. Then came Resident Evil Extinction, 2 words: zombie crows...large groups of zombie crows...Well, after that movie large groups of birds made me run indoors.

Then all these big McMansions popped up in the valley...I started to notice pigeons on roof tops. I started to notice big brand new houses with bird shit roofs. I wasn't even a home owner back then and that pissed me off. Anything that can fly where ever it wants, shit mid air, and it lands where it lands really pisses me off. I told my mom there would be plenty of poisoned bird seed around my place for those rats with wings...she told me that they were protected by our government. WHAT? Our government can not protect our children from pedophiles or help the homeless but they protect stupid ass pigeons? I'm warning all those that know me, love me, or just read my blog I will be the crazy woman on my roof with a freaking broom or better yet golf club (me yelling FOUR...feathers flying a very Monty Python moment) if pigeons start to gather on or even near my home.

Bird Brains:

disclaimer: I'm agnostic. The ball & chain is atheist...we are raising our children to be free minded & decide what they believe or don't on their own with info but no coaching from us.

I really enjoy the show 17 kids and counting.....Oh not because I find them inspirational....Not because I am floored this woman's nocha hasn't fallen to the floor and crawled away crying like some victim of a sadist. Not for the fact that the husband Jim Bob must be spend all his nights buried in his wife's panties to have so many kids...But for the fact that I'm agnostic, they're beliefs and what they are teaching their children crack me up. The minute one of those kids steps off their "world" and is faced with the "real world" ...Well, it will blow their little minds...You mean the world isn't really like that? "Oh no J______ (all the kids names start with J) there really is no Santa clause." You do have to be careful with that show while I find it hilarious for so many reasons including the very in your face blatant advertising of household products in their home...some like my husband... well the show pisses him off. He grew up with that rubbish (well rubbish to us...don't send me hate mail) so it reminds him of all those things embedded in his noggin where he broke free from. My favorite episode if you want a good laugh is when they go to the Creation Museum....ahhh good times.

that's it...maybe

Well I've reached that point...the same point I have reached many of time before. I've become fed up with myself. I don't know if it's ever happened to you...but all of a sudden you think "man, I'm just ______" You fill in the blank...could be slob, lazy, out of touch...etc and etc. The moment came in small doses to me all day. My hair for no apparent reason (I have doctors appointments to rule out medical) decided to go alfalfa on me. From one day to the next it took on the texture of a really bad dried out old lady roller set hairdo. So I got fed up and cut it all off...OH, I hate it....the cut looks terrible, but I couldn't stand the feel of it anymore.

Then this evening watching Indiana Jones 3 (fun movie...just plain fun) it happened again. I got fed up with myself...it came on with my 2nd bite of pie. The pie was suddenly gross...I kept thinking that me just not giving a shit about what I eat or what I weigh was gross & I was grossing myself out. I tossed the pie and got a glass of water...

So here I am overweight and with a very bad haircut wondering if the feeling will pass by morning or if it's enough this time to push me into action. I became fed up this week with school and bounced into action applying for financial aid and getting an appointment to get my paperwork together to enter SDSU..it's time I thought. Yup, it's time I went from Taco Tec to Taco U...the fed up worked.

So am I there with my weight? I hit this fed up with my weight once and lost 50 pounds...I think I'm there...the pie tasted nasty tonight, trick is to see if it tastes nasty tomorrow. The hair well it will grow, but what if it grows out the same what then? The schooling well Taco U either takes me or I keep applying till they take me....

Perhaps we are all creatures of bad habits the trick is to recognize them as bad habits and not just habits.

boxers

I have many bad habits some cute, some gross, and some well personal...wink, wink, cough...One of my habits is wearing my hubbies boxers. A pair of men's boxers & a tank top is the perfect sleeping attire as far as I'm concerned. I have bought pj's twice my whole life both for the hospital when giving birth...the rest of the time it's boxers & tank tops even in the winter...hey that's why they make heaters ...if I get desperate I might put on a pair of sweats after I get up.

So when the husband says to me "your ass looks so frumpy in my boxers..." I wasn't insulted. I wasn't even shocked...I'm not wearing them because they make the C section scar seem tiny & the tummy look flat. I was intrigued....he still looks at my ass? I wasn't even aware that he remembered I owned one. I don't really have an ass...I have a flat surface with a slit. We've been together 10 years I didn't even think he bothered to "look" at me anymore. Lets face it I bath & kinda groom myself so as to not embarrass the children or scare the elderly. It never occurred to me that my husband or any guy was checking me out.

AND when did that happen? I got lost somewhere & forgot that maybe someone would find me attractive...seriously when I was young it was all about being checked out...now I could give a shit. In fact if I can fade into the background & not be noticed even better...because I attract eccentric people whom I adore for their entertainment value, but now that I have 2 kids I have no time to be entertained. I was aware of being "seen" when I was bar tending I enjoyed it & exploited it...but now "why?" is all that really comes to mind.

I don't remember what I said to Dear Hubby when he said that...I remember standing there for a bit thinking "wow, he's still looking...poor dude..."

personal note: to all you woman who will email me telling me I need to look good for my husband can kiss my ass or kiss their own husbands ass. A person should look good for themselves...after a day of handling 2 kids, a nana, a household, and school all I want is a comfy pair of boxers. So as Miss Kathy says "suck it..."


FYI: The Happening is an interesting film. I am a huge fan of M. Knight Shamladingdong but it's not the type of film to watch after a very windy day & a very windy evening...If you've seen it you know why & if you haven't I shall not ruin it for you....

AGE

Been pondering my age lately. 37 by the way, but if you ask I'll tell you 40. I've noticed many changes in me since I hit 32ish. I like tomato's now....I love tomato's & tuna that is totally a middle aged healthly choice type of dish that I love. When I was 20 I would have puked at the meer mention of tomato let alone tuna. Put both together I would have vomited in my own mouth. When I was 23 I vaguely remember a diet of bean burritos, cheese pizza & beer...I was a vegetarian back then but not a healthy one.

One of the things that hit me this week about my age group that I am in, is a conversation I had with another mother at the preschool. It was during the preschools Halloween bash where there were many parents & siblings around...We got to talking about babies & how we are both so over babies that there meer mention of diapers makes up cringe. She said that once she turned 40 she was just so over this cutesy little baby stuff she just wanted to get on with life already. Don't judge her, her youngest daughter is 4 & she loves her daughter but the idea of another baby again makes her leave the room.

So let me address what your already thinking..."But you've got a baby..." Yuppers I do...he's got the cutest fattest round ass around. BUT if my hubby had wanted another one it could have caused a divorce (he doesn't & plus I got myself fixed). I am honestly just counting down the months till G hits 1...once he's walking, talking, and playing I call it a home run. The day I toss out all his bottles, no longer buy formula, and hand him a sippy cup full of cold leche that doesn't require heating...that day I shall do a snoopy happy dance. The day I no longer have to buy diapers & his dinner can be pizza I shall do 2 snoopy happy dances.

Her mentioning her age made me think: are we as woman pre-programed to have our children at an earlier age that what is the norm now? As we reach middle age is our tolerance for diapers, 3AM feeding and spit up gone? It might be, because when I had my first child 4 years ago I remember hating it a lot less. I wonder is it an age thing or a character thing?

Another texting (I don't even remember what you sound like anymore woman...I do remember you being slightly smartassy which is a family trate...can't really smart ass alot in texting it's an art) conversation with flaca also made me think about my age. We both agreed that we like ourselves so much more now than when we were young. Life is better now. We are wiser, stronger, and all around better.

Now here's a little story:
I was sound asleep...snoring happily away when loud shrieking woke me up. I freaked shook the hubby yelling "The kids...the kids" Then I ran down the hall yelling at the hubby to get the 4 year old while I saved the baby...from what a freaking banshee I don't know it was 2AM. The hubby chased me down the hall telling me to stop..."stop it's fucking cats stop." I stood at my baby's door...Que? Cats?
I go downstairs open my front door two big cats where hissing at each other on my front steps...my crazy ass is in a tank top, boxers, with hair all over the place stepped outside & ran them off.
Just another reason for me to dislike cats.

tap tap...sir excuse me sir..

life is currently mundane...will report back when there's something entertaining to report...
like how I scared myself last night by watching 30 days of night on my computer in a pitch black bedroom...

or how I just annoyed myself by using the work "like."

Que?

So Saturday I pick up "the nana..." as she's known in our household for her hair appointment. I'm sitting in my very soccer mom mini van with the Harley Sticker in the back window because damn it the man I sleep with rides one & Social Distortion is still making the little van vibrate...I'm grasping at what's left.

The nana walks up to the car....and here is where I wish I could draw (besides the fact that I've always wanted to be a tattoo artist...yes... a wanna be Kat Von D...) so I could give you a very clear picture of what she was wearing. Besides the classic old lady haircut..short kinda reddish where she tries to cover the grey never blows it out or anything so it looks "fluffy"... She had on a green...Mmmm leaf green polyester pants. One of my very old (I'm thinking junior high) striped pink shirt and a wool knitted red and black striped cardigan sweater. I promptly said "what the hell are you wearing...you look crazy..." she did. She looked like the old nana immigrant woman you see on the Mexican side of town who wear a big black skirt with a WHAM t-shirt on...they just toss t-shirts on never knowing what the hell it means...my favorite has been an old nana I saw sitting at a bus stop wearing an Anarchy t-shirt...

So we went rounds on how she looked crazy and how she knew she looked crazy but she doesn't give a shit. Which as usual got me thinking. Is that what happens when you truly turn into a little old lady you stop giving a shit that you look kinda loony? Is that liberating? Is it liberating to know that your boobs are pointing in two different directions but "fuck it I'm old." Is it a sign of truely getting over how you look or is it a sign of defeat? It can be the most truthful "Oh I give up..." in ones life. As in the old man who finally calls it defeat and starts wearing suspenders with his pants, because damn it he's got a round belly & he has to.

Those thoughts lead to more thoughts...what or when am I going to call defeat on the whole appearance thing. My girlfriends are starting to talk menopause...will a day come when I go pick one up and she's wearing what I recognize as one of her sons old Metallica t-shirts with a skirt and a cat popping out of her skirt pocket (as you read this you know who your are)?

I'm not a high fashion woman...if I look in the neighborhood of cute & am clean then it's a winner as far as I'm concerned...BUT I don't want to look loony. I would like to be one of those old ladies who wears jeans & a cute blouse...That's probably not going to happen...I don't think I'll end up looking cute...never really been cute so I won't end up a cute old lady. If I'm being honest I picture myself in said jean but with a Harley T-shirt & jacket on...did I mention that I intend to grow into an old biker mama? If Harley's exist by the time I get retirement old...by then who knows they might fly through the air or we might have no gas to run a motorcycle...

I could get somewhat loony and think in my old age that I can still pull off a biker mama tank top while riding my Harley around town...my boys will cringe when they see me & my grandchildren will think nana is weird but fun...

Sigh....who knows. I just hope that I don't end up looking like Miss Roper from Three's company...I understand the comfort of a mu mu...I do but that's the dark side as far as I'm concerned & I hope to never get to the point where the mu mu is acceptable grocery shopping attire.

mushy gushy

alright I swore I wouldn't write mushy crap about my kids...the following is close to mushy crap so feel free to click me away.

I was pondering Sunday about how kids enter every little corner of our lives with their stuff. Even when they are gone they somehow leave a little something behind to remind you that they are with you. Every single corner of my home has a token of one of my kids along with every corner of my life.

Examples:

I find two of SJ's favorite books next to the toilet in our bathroom where I keep a pile of magazines (come on we all read on the jon).

Saturday night I'm plagued by a poking sensation while sleeping only to find that I was sleeping with a transformers action figure next to my face. When did it get there?

Folding landry I find a baby sock tucked into my t-shirt sleeve.

There are currently 2 hot wheels cars in my purse...I keep removing them they keep coming back.

There are usually 2 to 3 little rocks in my purse. SJ brings me rocks as presents and make sure I have some always.

This one's a classic: I leave the house for school only to discover at school that I've got baby spit up all over my shoulder. I thought I smelled funny...but didn't have time to investigate..plus going to chem I figured it smells funny in there anyways blame it on the classroom.

Lastly the stepping on the army man around 3 in the morning. I've done this so many times...those little green fuckers get everywhere. It hurts like hell also...for a split second I always think "who the hell left barbed wire just laying around..."

Little reminders of them everywhere...and every time (except for the army men incidents) I am completely charmed by it.



Lately there's been plenty of talk from my girlfriends about menopause. Some are thinking they might start it...some are thinking that they started it. I really paid it no thought till last night I had a very big conclusion. If the girlfriends are talking/thinking about it. The girlfriends are in my age group....then "hey wait a minute...that means it's circling me to..." Suddenly the old hag buzzard is above me waiting to shit on my head. Which makes me what? Pissed at Oprah that's what. Menopause makes me pissed off at Oprah for saying that 40 was the new 20. It is if your Oprah.

knife me

So I love plastic surgery shows. I watch them enthralled & plotting. I love to see the before & after. It doesn't matter exactly what the surgeons are fixing, it's the fact that they can for an exchange of money & pain fix it. "you mean I don't have to live with this ______ for the rest of my freaking life.." Yippee here's my credit card and let me make a couple phone calls.

You see I get excited just writing about plastic surgery shows. I get happy for the people having the work done. For a short amount of time the chick having a tummy tuck is my BFF...I am so there for you sister!!! I don't care what show it is or what doctor. (I will say that I am not entirely convinced that Dr Rey is straight & an ex-boss of mine did give me his card.) But who cares look how flat her tummy is...sigh.

My husband shakes his head at me when he catches me watching them. I tell him I'm shopping. He thinks I won't have it done....silly man. He thinks he can say I won't have it done. I am just waiting to go back to work & get G out of diapers then under the knife I go. It's a flat tummy & new tata's for the mama.

See I get passionately angry if anyone suggests me having something done is a bad idea. I will fight that argument to freaking court. It's on...it's church if you tell me I can't get a tummy tuck let alone pretty titties. I'm hissing & scratching your eyes out like a rabid ferret.

Just to give you a visual of me watching any plastic surgery show....there's this movie Open Season. There's a scene where the bear is watching Wheel of fortune on the TV...he's totally into it, lost in it, and loving it. Ya, that's me.

brilliant

I have gotten to the age where I start & end my day with coffee. I'm not sure when it happened but all of a sudden I was drinking coffee at night in the middle of the summer. Something I've only seen older people do. Not young people at the Screwbucks, nope old people with a coffee mug that is very aged, stained and just righty at home.

That said I had a "wow, great idea." moment with Miss Kate from Jon & Kate. I saw her pour her coffee into a travel mug. This was a moment of genius to me. I have since fallen head over heals in love with the travel mug. There had been several times that I was frustrated with my coffee...I would pour myself a cup, get it ready, then baby cry, 4 year old hungry...by the time I got back to it well it was always cold & shiny in a cold coffee mate way. Now I use a travel mug at home & it's all fixed. I am now on a quest for the perfect travel mug...which if you've read my past blogs I am sure is available on QVC.

So audience have you ever had that "wow, great idea.." moment with the ordinary mundane household stuff? I want to know...comment/email me...

Lastly a note on my last blog about aliens. Yes, it's all pathetically true. AND no I am not 36...I f'd up Miss Tortilla corrected me...I am in fact 37. But for the greater good of the universe & me I shall now be 40 for the next 4 years. This allows me to remember a close proximity to my age along with giving me a boost when people say "wow, you look good for 40."

and now I shall go to the QVC website on ogle travel mugs the way some 12 year old boys stare at cheerleaders.

aliens & pubic hair

Aliens:

So I've got a lot of issues about things that are generally ridiculous. An example would be that I occasionally get super worried that a Resident Evil type of zombie bullshit will take over the place and where will I hide with my kids. Along with the concern as to how much formula could I loot for G before he's turned into a baby zombie. I am not concerned for W since W is former bad ass military guy.....he'll survive, kill zombies & hopefully rescue his family all while riding his Harley.

But, I digress...I am scared shitless of Aliens. Mmmm...let me clarify Space Aliens. Kidnapping/Abduction scare the crap out of me...so put in some small pissed off grey "things" well you've got my 10th level of hell. So Tuesday night there was Primetime Aliens on TV. Now I knew better. I knew better than to record it, put the boys to bed, and try to casually watch it. I knew better, but I did it anyway. I sat there trying to pretend the things people were saying were not terrifying me while I polished my nails. I looked up at the pictures of aliens with big bug eyes & funny shaped heads and told myself that these are just drawings no reason to panic.

Well, I Miss Tonta of the week scared the crap out of myself. I am a 36 year old mother of two..and I was freaking out. W was working late & the boys were sleeping while I wandered around the townhouse thinking crazy thoughts:

Crazy thoughts:

I totally need a weapon. I need something to bash their shiny heads in.

I wonder if aliens are really burned by plain water like the ones on Signs.

and me trying to calm myself thoughts:

Aliens wouldn't come here to a townhouse complex in Imperial. They need back woods somewhere....not deliverance back woods, but more like Canadian woods where peole are drunk on beer & less likely to fight them off.

Aliens wouldn't attack a place that is over run by Latinos they know better...Latinos would fight them off...picture the nana smacking one with a broom...Latinos would kill them off with whatever household shit they could grab, have a carne asada, go to church and then be on the TV crying over the whole experience while their boy cousin proudly tells the show's host that he fed one of the aliens to his dogs.

I told Flaca how I scared the crap out of myself...I could feel her rolling her eyes (this issue is getting old for those close to me) through her text. I told B about it...and because it was late & I was tired I think B totally understood that I was off my rocker. I told W about it who said "not the Aliens again woman..."

I wish there was alien garlic I could hang from my windows & G's bassinet.

Where does the public hair come in?

First of all, I don't think aliens have pubic hair....why would they need pubs in space? Why wouldn't they? For some reason pubic hair in space doesn't make sense. Princess Leia probably had a Brazilian wax.

The pubic hair story is for flaca I started to tell you this but never got around to it.

When I was 22ish I blissfully sat on my toilet doing my business unaware of anything vitally important...when I looked down at my business. I saw a grey pubic hair. I sat there in shock at first staring at the offending hair thinking that maybe it was a mistake. My body some how over looked something like they do at all offices & this pubic hair was suppose to be sent elsewhere at a different time...like on my eyebrows when I'm sixty. After trying to shoo it away & realizing that it was there. I started to cry. Okay, I started to howl. This alerting the nana who back then was only the annoying superstitious little Mexican woman I live with....who started pounding on the door asking whats wrong...she kept yelling at me asking if I was pregnant. I have blocked out the rest...I don't remember much after that...but I do remember years of hair color being put in places it doesn't recommend on the box.

pensive

Nite Nite....

Bedtime is my favorite part of the day. Yes, for the overwhelming obvious reasons of putting the 1 tiny dude & 1 small dude to bed having some time to myself or chasing around the old man...but I like the ritual of it. I like the dinner, the cleanup, the baths, brushing teeth, reading the book, good nights, kisses all of it. Sometimes when I'm exhausted I would like to skip half of it, but even then I enjoy it. The best part for me is something that gives me that calm cozy feeling every time anytime of year. Right before I go to bed I always go into their rooms to check on them. I cover them up or untangle them...touch their little bald heads & kiss the small dude behind the ear...wouldn't try that with the tiny dude might wake the beast...It always gives me such a feeling of gratitude. They are safe, they are home, they are loved...I am lucky because many others don't have this & I do. I know there are many mothers out there that wish to give their children safety & peace enough to play & grow but can not....so every single night I am grateful always.


Cable Guy

When the cable guy showed up we chatted for a moment before he started his work...he looked at me and said "Oh your getting connected...this is nice lately all I do is disconnect..." What an incredible simple statement of the time we live in.


Appearance:

I've been getting a lot of "Wow, you look good..." lately. I mean I am getting it a lot. Which is interesting to me...did I look that shitty before? Did contact lenses make that much of a difference? I stole Kates haircut from Jon & Kate plus 8...am I giving off a Kate vibe? Do these people say that because they know I had a baby 4 months ago and well they don't want to upset the mama? Or they want to make the mama feel good about her mama self? I have actually felt really shitty about my appearance lately. When we moved into this townhouse I had my bubble very violently burst...there are huge mirrors here. I had small mirrors at the apartment. I (go ahead and gasp..) I dared to look at myself butt naked in front of a mirror. I was horrified when I found out (seriously I hadn't a clue) that after giving birth to G the C section left me with a pot belly. I have always had a belly but a pot belly is so so so terrible. Screw that weird looking girl on Pulp Fiction... I can't wait to get it cut out. So when people say "Wow, you look good..." I always think & have said to them "ya, but you don't see me naked..." AND I am gratefull that Big Country does & still hits this.

I'm back bitches...

After 10 days of no cable/Internet I am finally back online. I feel as if I was on some strange sabbatical..as if I was Bilbo Baggins back from an adventure...but that's everything isn't it just when your in the thick of whatever it's over & you are glad.

So here at the Bassets meaningless thoughts:

Condo/townhouse

I love it here. I love our new place. It's just perfect for us...From the moment I took a look at the models I knew this was the kind of place that suited our family and it does. My most favorite thing about it: it's very private...ya I know you wouldn't think that with a condo, but it is. We choose one in a specific location so that unless you wanted to come over, unless you knew exactly where I live you you wouldn't just happen to run across our place. I also like that we are the only people in the whole building (3 unites per building) the others haven't sold...I wish I was rich I would buy the other two & knock the fuck out of some walls. Least Favorite thing: water pressure upstairs sucks...There are always two things we do when moving into a new place...
1. Line cabinets
2. buy (as much as we can afford) kick ass shower heads
BUT the water pressure here sucks and the shower heads make no difference. Without getting too graphic my unmentionables just don't feel April fresh no matter how much I wash.

I also have the conspiracy theory idea that my appliances (microwave & stove) are smarter than me & can probably do the equations necessary for my Chemistry Class.

Chemistry Class:

I so dig my professor. I'll have to write a whole blog on him later...he's just interesting. I've mentioned him before..he's interesting, he's funny and besides B he's the best thing about having to take the forsaken should be forgotten art of Chemistry. A class that annoys the crap out of me with their math that only a what, a what, a mother fucking chemist should know.
BUT that's not what I wanted to say about the class....there's this kid in there...I'm being so old horny lady gross..but there's this young guy in there that looks like Joaquin Phoenix and that just leads me into all sorts of distraction. I have a thing for Mr. Phoenix so if Dateline Predators could read my thoughts I'd be in trouble.

My kid:

I tell my 4 year old lies all the time...not ordinary lies..but whimsical crazy shit. My mother scolded me the other day when she over heard me telling him something. I don't know why I do it...maybe because I'm a self entertaining asshole even to my kid. Or maybe because he's freaking 4 and life should be kinda magical.
Here are a couple examples:

Gorillas beat on their chest because they have gas & need to burp or fat very badly.

Small water falls in canals are there so the catfish can play & not be so sad.

Monsters hate lotion. So when taking on a monster you should always carry a bottle of lotion...they don't like lotion because they like being itchy. Being itchy makes them extra grouchy & thus monsters.

Monkeys hate spaghetti but love carne asada.


I got in trouble with the nana over the canal story...bah to her and her pinesol castle...

I shall spend the next couple days catching up on my online class...but damn it's good to be back....I have thoughts that need typing out.

offline

Offline due to moving....back when settled.

stuff

Yup your right I should be packing & packing, instead of f'ing around online. But everyone that is reading my mindless bullshit at this very moment...you out there should be doing something else also...lets raise are fists in the air for a momentary "fuck it."

Some thoughts:

CHEM CLASS:

Started my Chem class with a good friend "B." Shout out to "B." I'm not sure what I would like to shout out to "B"....probably "woman we are going out for drinks & deep fried food when this bullshit is over with.." But, I'm digressing the Chemistry professor is very Mexicano from Mexico very well educated & traveled man that does not act like a crema. BUT he did use the would quantitative several times. Well, I don't know about most of you audience but if you are able to slip that word into normal conversation concerning normal things then damn you are learned. The second time he slipped the word quantitative in, mentally I had already grabbed my purse, given B a very solemn "oh well..." nod, started heading home to a glass of wine & some Ice Road Truckers...with a guess I'll go work at Kmart attitude. I thought I was bad ass when I knew what the word catharsis meant...but the professor has defiantly 4 up'd me.

QVC:

I have always known that the QVC was out there. But, in my head it was for shut in's with money, nanas with money & arthritis, and for an occasional homosexual gentleman who was too busy with his social life to go out & shop. BUT, I've been schooled. It started with their mineral makeup B.E. Which according to myself is some of the best makeup I've ever used I am in the process of building a complete collection of that stuff...which will have no monitory value, but will make me feel like a pretty mama.
Last night I caught myself watching it...they were selling travel mugs. I was intrigued about the travel mugs, intrigued about what the ladies were saying about the travel mugs, and even listened to the pathetic I've got nothing better to do than speak to you fuckers caller. I then realized..."shit...these people could sell me anything.." I'm sure they could sell me warm cat poop in a jar & I would totally go for it...not knowing why I would purchase the poop + the warmer + jar together for $14.99 available on easy pay...and be thrilled. Don't worry I still stop myself before I reach for my credit card...

BEING RIGHT:
I don't like to write about my kids because I think reading about other peoples kids is some boring stuff....BUT I have to go into my 4 year old's latest quirk. He thinks he's right. Example: he was talking about a tooth stick that some lady had in her mouth on TV. I correct him "no baby it's a tooth pick..." He looks at me dead on and says "no your wrong...it's a tooth stick.." AND walks off shaking his little carter dinosaur chonies ass. He does this constantly he says something incorrectly then I correct him & he tells me I'm wrong. He did it in the car the other day so I look at my mom and say "chinga su...mirar esta la Leticia ___ back there.." in my very best spanglish...Note: only my cousin will understand & laugh at the Lety ___ line... That is my sister who thinks she's always right even though she's 99% of the time very wrong. But, like a rabid pit bull she will fight to the death that she's right. Of all the f'd up quirks for my son to "get" from my sister...Why couldn't he get her quirk to keep the car super super clean.

LUCKY:
I've been thinking lately of how lucky I am. I've got a good man, kids, family, & friends. We just bought a home..we aren't rolling in cash but the man is working hard things are getting paid & things are getting better. Being honest I don't deserve any of it. I'm not a bad person, but honestly I'm not that great either. I have full disclosure been trying to kill my mom's poodle for over a year. The four year old has even noticed it & ratted me out to the nana...So I don't consider myself worthy of my blessing...I consider myself one lucky bitch. That's it just lucky nothing else. I won't commit to calling it anything else since I am a very strict agnostic in the sense that I refuse to say any one thing is the answer to anything....Anyway, let's just hope my luck sticks.


quan·ti·ta·tive /ˈkwɒntɪˌteɪtɪv/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[kwon-ti-tey-tiv] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation –adjective
1.
that is or may be estimated by quantity.
2.
of or pertaining to the describing or measuring of quantity.
3.
of or pertaining to a metrical system, as that of classical verse, based on the alternation of long and short, rather than accented and unaccented, syllables.
4.
of or pertaining to the length of a spoken vowel or consonant.


ca·thar·sis /-siz/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[-seez] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation.
1.
the purging of the emotions or relieving of emotional tensions, esp. through certain kinds of art, as tragedy or music.
2.
Medicine/Medical. purgation.
3.
Psychiatry.
a.
psychotherapy that encourages or permits the discharge of pent-up, socially unacceptable affects.
b.
discharge of pent-up emotions so as to result in the alleviation of symptoms or the permanent relief of the condition.

packing

Since I'm currently packing up all my belongings I've had one major conclusion. I'm not as clean as I thought I was. Like all parents since I've had children my standards for things have gone down...now that I've got two kids my standards are dropped to the if it looks alright on the outside & doesn't smell horrible then don't look under the bed and we're cool.

That being said I still like a clean house. Although I will state a disclaimer that I like a clean house, but I also like a comfortable house. I want to live in my home not have my home own me. I grew up in a household where we were never allowed to eat outside the confines of the kitchen, never allowed to sit on the couches (Couches are for company), and if my mother could have gotten away with it I am sure everyone including the pooches would have worn plastic booties. When I finally got away from her pinesol hell I vowed to not be "like that..." with my home (home being where ever I lay my head down to sleep..)

Yet, I can't help but shake my head at myself as I pack. Things are covered in dust. When did the kitchen cabinets get so grimy? I am not sure the floor behind the toilet is suppose to be that color...gross. I'm gross.....when did that happen?

All my friends that are reading this will say "yes, but you've got two kids...one's a baby...your really busy..." All true, but damn I never realized I had gotten that low on my standards.

So where does that leave me? I am not sure. I don't have time or patience to be up to my standards. I can't live up to my own cleanliness standards how f'd up is that? If I was rich I could make my employees lives impossible getting them to live up to my standards...like Jeff Lewis on the Flipping out TV show. By the way I love that guy...he's crazy, I would never work for him, but he's a completely fun to watch. But alas I have no employees to harass. It also brings the question to mind if I could have a maid or personal chef which would it be? CHEF...I hate cooking more than cleaning. I'll scrub a toilet, don't ask me to make you dinner...

So there it is people....I have had my bubble popped: the realization that I have become a little bit of a cochina.

So audience which would it be for you? Personal Chef or Maid?

escrow

going through escrow crap....will blog when life calms down.

nosy...

So I've told you all that I am a self confessed pervert. I would now like to toss out to the world that I am nosy. Yes, that's right I'm nosy. In self defense I am not your classic nosy busy body. I'm not spying on my neighbors through the blinds, going through my friends mail, I don't read my husbands text messages (maybe I should)...

No, not nosy like that. Nosy in a way where I'm always wondering exactly what makes people tick & what exactly are they doing. Here are some examples: Whenever I'm driving anywhere and I see an interesting looking home or building. I always wonder, who lives/works there what do they do? What are they like? That very big beautiful house where ever...I would love to knock on there door & ask what everyone is doing. Oprah once said she always wondered what people around her neighborhood where cooking for dinner. My nosy is kinda like that.

Here's an example: I go the gym at all different hours. I have no set schedule for the gym...basically I show up several times a week when I've got someone to watch the kids. So today when I hit the gym at 1pm thinking I would have the place to myself...Hell no the place was packed. WTF? I just wanted to walk around asking "who are you? how can you be at a gym in the middle of a workday? What do you do for a living...?"

The new girl in the apartment across from mine she comes out once a day to walk her very adorable Bulldog named Molly & her dust rag foo foo dog named Roxi....I only see her once a day...so I wonder what is she doing in there all day long with those two dogs & a 2 year old. Hasn't she gone mad yet? I feel compelled to knock on her door with some lame excuse about the roof being on fire, trolls have taken over the laundry room, the pool is full of jello...just to get a glimpse of what she is doing...

So there it is world I'm nosy...but don't worry I won't raid your bathroom drawers I'm too afraid of what I might find...If I find something really weird I'd have to walk out of your bathroom look you in the eye & pretend everything is cool while pretending not to wipe every thing before I touch it...Which would probably spiral into you thinking I've developed a bad case of sudden OCD so better not go there....Anyway I'm way to busy wondering what the man across the street is doing in his garage to remember you have stuff in your bathroom drawers.

So tell me tiny blog audience that I have: What are you nosy about? Because I'm nosy I'd like to know. You can comment on it or email me...

The Feds...

Pages of obscure crap could be told about my upstairs neighbors. But, I haven't the energy to go over it today. I will say that the dude is very very unsociable. There have been two times that I have had to knock on his door. The first time I did he opened it up about 2 inches & as I spoke the SOB started closing it...

Today, I kindly knock on the door because his mail was in my mailbox. It looked important something from a bank...so I go. He opens the door about an inch grunts that it is in fact his mail, ninja grabs it out of my hand & then closes it quickly.

It's creepy and comical. Picture it...I can see only one of his eyes, a few hairs of his goatee, and one ear. He opens the door as if he's waiting on the feds to show up any day to grab his ass & haul him off to some kind of international court for some horrible war crimes. Since he's nervous & looking around I'm nervous & annoyed...but I notice that I start looking around. Is there something out in the matrix that I am happily unaware of? Was he expecting his meth dealer? Is he a meth dealer? Did he not pay his rent & is waiting to have it out with the land lord?

What totally sends me for a loop is the fact that he leaves his bedroom window open all the freaking time. Wide open. It's a 115 out there & his freaking window is open, curtains and all. So why act like such a fool at the front door and then egging people on to view your personal life through your bedroom window?

moving

Blogging will be slow for the next couple weeks...I'm in the process of moving...

Yup people I'm packing up my junk & moving it to another place & then unpacking my junk.

a couple things...

I knew something was up with that office girl at my apartments...Without giving away too much detail...I was bitching to the manager about something she did and the manager said "oh, ______ is dyslexic she gets all sorts of things mixed up..." I knew it. There was something to her that I could not grasp. I'm pretty good about reading people so I knew she had a secret something under her coat for no one to see.... I hope she gets help and I hope she doesn't fuck my stuff up.

I have gotten a lot of positive emails from friends and friends of friends that are reading my blog. Funny...all you people keep emailing me but no one comments. It's like the American Sign language applause...silent.

mind in the gutter...

Okay...so I'm a big pervert. My mind always somehow wanders to the gutter. The red light district is on. I can't help it I'm a sociologist at heart. I like to study people figure out how they tick & well it always starts or ends with me wondering about "things."



Here are some examples:



Tibetan Monks: what are they wearing under the orange robes? Tighty Whitey's? Boxers" Al aira fresca?



Odd looking couples: Well, we are all odd looking...but I mean couples where you have the Sumo looking man and the tiny Asian looking chick. How do they? Are their straps involved? A crane...how does she not get crushed. A boss and friend once told me "Well, sweetie sometimes you just have to ride them..." After I peeled myself off the floor from laughter. I understood that was true.



Angry Butch Lesbians couples: You've seem them, know them, love them...but one has to wonder when you've got two very butch lesbians who seem to constantly be pissed off at something...does anything sweet happen in the bedroom. Or do they just roll around growling & gnawing on one another.



Brad & Angie: Come on two of the most beautiful people in the world? Everyone wonders. Your 87 year old abuela whose probably busy right now making enchiladas wonders.



Paula Dean: Okay I don't ponder about what she and her fisherman husband are doing. It's mostly images of both of them giggling & feeding each other biscuits.



Your boss & his/her spouse: Ya, you've thought it. You might not want to picture it. But you've seen your bosses spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend and you've said "mmmm..." to yourself...You might have brushed it out of your mind quickly but the thought has occurred.



Clay Aiken/Michael Jackson/All those Sleep away camp type of people: No images here. Just that simple conclusion...someone is willing to go there. Someone is willing to look & gasp touch that. How much purex does it take to get over that? I assume the answer is gallons.






AND those are just off the top of my head. I'm not really digging deep. It's almost (not really..if you knew me you'd wouldn't expect anything less) frightening to think what is there if I dug deep. There might be questions that no one wants an answer to.

Unrelated to all of the above I have decided to add AdSense to my blog. This is an unpopular move and is noted by many casual writers to be selling out. But it's the American way. I am a stay at home mom/full time student. If I can earn some change to pay for textbooks then hooray for red, white, and blue me.

In closing I would like to state that Nicolas Cage is not aging well...he seems to be melting.

old morbid people...

This week on the bassets mind...

Old people are either insanely happy granola I don't need this shit type or the morbid obsessed with horrible things type. My mother is the later. I don't know if it's because we are Hispanic & well Hispanic people tend to talk about sickness in secretive whispers....as if tata didn't know his old ass was sick as hell. Or maybe speaking about the illness out loud will break the general rule of not telling the really ill child/old person that they are sick as hell. It's better that they not know? BUT back to my mom who daily tells me terrible tales of abused children, deaths caused by crocodiles, people who didn't pay attention to the news and then lost their homes, their jobs, and were clubbed to death by their neighbors....I could casually say the most innocent of comments to my mother about the summer heat she will answer with some story she heard on the radio of a woman who forgot their child in the car & the baby cooked to death..... DAMN MAN a long time ago I stopped watching horror films because I could not take the gruesome terrible things people did to one another...so I stopped watching those. I had no idea that a little Mexican woman could be filled with such horrid tales. She tells me that she tells me these things so that I would know not to do that. WTF? I am not going to cook my baby in the freaking car. I think she should supplement her retirement income by going to work for fangoria magazine..or maybe the bastards that create all those Saw movies. She could tell those fuckers all the terrible shit she hears on the radio, keep her self busy, and have the cash to take me out to lunch more often.

I should really go over one day and pay close attention to this radio show she listens to....I swear it's too meth heads combing over the internet thinking of ways to scare the crap out of old Mexican widow woman while giving these old OMWW something to gossip about in whispered black tones to one another and their children.

On same subject but not...I hate the people who create SAW movies. That's right I hate you. How dare you put that type of vile shit out there. I am not into torture porn. AND I am not into censorship, but fuck man why plant these disgusting ideas into some sick fuckers head that had enough money for a movie ticket. Don't the creators of the SAW movies & movies of that nature get it...you plant the seed to the public then some idiot recreates it. I think there is so much terrible shit in the world must we really teach each other especially our youth even more creative ways to hurt one another. I wonder if we are creating a generation of mean little bastards.

I prefer my horror in the form of zombies, vampires, werewolves...Your basic good time Halloween shit that for the most part isn't true....I say for the most part because there are days when my apartment complex is super quiet that I start to wonder where my neighbors are & why is everything so quiet....Mmmm.

for the record I intend to be the don't need this shit old person. I plan to be an old pot head who scrambles around trying to clean things up including myself before the grandkids come over.

give a little

I don't like the office girl at my apartment complex. I have no reason to dislike her. She's never been rude to me or f'd me over in anyway. I dislike her for the simple reason that she is so straight to the point. She is a very straight piece of wood with no bend. I am not trying to get her to bend any rules or anything for me...but there is little warmth to her. There is no give...no emotion...is there such a thing as being too professional? Because if there is...then yip that's her. She's too stand offish professional for me. I like my privacy as much as the most private of people, but damn how about a touch of friendly tone when saying hello to my kid.

Tarzan Hot

Meandering thoughts:

Conversation with my 3 year old (ahhh ya I know I said I wouldn't talk about my kids, but damn this is kinda interesting & funny)

SJ: "Mom, Levi called me a dick..."
Me: "Well, were you being a dick?"
SJ: "NO"
Me: "do you know what a dick is?"
SJ: "no"
Me: "it's a penis...but when someone calls you a dick it's like saying your being a jerk. so were you being a jerk to Levi?"
SJ: "Well, ya...so I flicked him..."

That's about all the clear info I got. Trying to get accurate information from a 3 year old is like trying to get correct info from a crack head at 2AM at a crime scene involving the crack head. Not that I would know that for sure, being only involved with a 3 year old & not really knowing any full blown crack heads except for the ones I've seen on COPS...but I am guessing I'm damn close.

I live someplace that's really freaking hot. In quoting Mathew Broderwick from Biloxi Blues "it's hot..it's Africa hot. It's Tarzan hot." It sucks from July till Oct. BUT I've lived elsewhere and this is the lesser of all the evils. I won't go into where else I've lived because there have been several I will say "screw you LA..."
One of my favorite things in the summer is watching Deadliest Catch. You know the show about the crab fisherman on the freaking freezing boat somewhere in the Barren Sea...Where ever the hell that is. Okay..so I divert my eyes when they show a bunch of the crabs. The crabs give me the creeps...they resemble the fast crawly things that attach themselves to your face on the Alien movies to much for me to even think of consuming one. I guess they are the Alien babies? Oh and let my digress for a second...I love Sci Fi but what really freaks me out is when things are fast...fast Alien babies and worst of all fast Zombies. I think it was Dawn of the Dead that the zombies where zombies which is fucked up enough, but they were fast zombies. How messed up is that? I know I am writing as if zombies could happen BUT if they did wouldn't you want the super slow dumb as cow shit ones from the original black & white zombie movies?

Okay...so back the fisherman....I love sitting there with a big cup of coffee watching these poor guys freeze their asses off & risk their lives on while it's a 100 and fuck outside my apartment. I find it really comforting to see all the cold cold sea water, ice, and snow. Shit half the time I'm not even listening to whatever the narrator & crew are saying I'm too busy pretending to freeze my ass off in the sea water...occasionally I have dirty thoughts about being the only woman on a fishing boat full of men...I would start looking damn pretty about week 2.

And Lastly: I went to the gym yesterday it's been...Mmmm I don't know 6 years. Cue the voice from The Upside Down show..."She went to the gym for the very first time..." Me walking in happy but dorky like the dudes from the show... Okay...so I hook up with a trainer. Who was nice & professional...but big. A very big dude that didn't say much and well didn't say much. The whole time I was working with him I kept having images of Gazoo from the Flintstones telling him what to do..."now dumb dumb tell her to straighten her back..." I would get so involved in that thought that a couple times I totally lost count of how many reps I did & had to play it off like I knew how many...
So I would stop whatever I was doing with a "yep...did that..." look when I didn't really have a clue if I did 20 reps or 40 or 15.

shopping

Did my usual payday shopping today...restocking supplies and all that exciting BS. I could go on about how everything seems to cost double these days...but why. Instead I'll muse on a couple thoughts.

First: (I may have texted or twittered you a condensed version of this) Old lady at Cost Co line looks at me and asks me about the scar on my neck. I smile and say "oh...ya I was in a bar fight at this lesbian bar in Mexicali...two girls started fighting over me & I got stuck in the middle and cut...lesbians can be very dangerous..." Well, the old lady was shocked. The look of horror that stuck her face. I did well to I held it for a minute then smiled said "not really" & gave her the business card of my thyroid doctor...She was so relieved I don't think she really took in what I said...

if anything I am self entertaining...

Second: Chick standing at Wally world looking at toilet brushes...she was dressed for the runway. Long fake pony tail, fake eyelashes, nails...well fake everything visible. A dress that looked worth a lot that is seen on magazine covers. That got me thinking...either she's an executive that is sent from her office to do some low level toilet brush shopping....or her life as gone to a really weird place where she gets that dressed up for freaking low level shopping. I don't judge her, but her level of being made up for something as dull & hateful as shopping for necessary household stuff gets me pondering. She is either really really high maintenance...or there is nothing going on in her life at all. She has that much time & money to look like that for something as simple as needing a toilet brush...

Well...That's what I thought about her as I walked by in my carpi's & 11 buck Target t-shirt. OH don't forget the 5 dollar Target flip flops....Sorry chicka I've got too much shit going on to wear heels to buy yogurt.