Well I have lured a friend of mine from MSN spaces to Blogger! Go me go me go me! Wishing you much success Mel with your blog! I will be adding you to my list (er, well Karen will since I kinda suck at the HTML crap). Happy blogging sweetie!
I love taking pictures. Always have. But I really got into photography in 1998 after hubby had bought me a really nice Nikon. I couldn’t stop taking pictures! The picture shown above has been published in a book called Wandering Spirits. It’s one of my very favorites. If you click Ryan’s picture, it will take you to a slide show of some of my all time favorite pictures! Most of the pictures are of my children, Sean, Matt, Ryan and Maddy and a few are of other family members. Thanks for looking! A shout out to my crazy, lovable friend Karen for hooking me up to Flickr! I freakin’ love it!
Ring Ring Ring.
Woman:Hello?
Me:Hi, is this Dance on Edge dance studio?
Woman:Ya.
Me:Oh hi, this is Maddy B’s mom and I just wanted to let you know that she’s not able to make dance class tonight.
Woman:What?
Me:This is Maddy B’s mom and I just wanted to let you know that she’s not able to make dance class tonight.
Woman:Ok?
Me:Ok, well can you please pass the message along to her teacher please?
Woman:What?
Me:Ummm is this Dance on Edge?
Woman:Ya.
Me:This is the dance studio?
A few seconds of silence, muffled sounds, then a man’s voice.
Man:Hello?
Me:Hi, is this Dance on Edge?
Man:Yes.
Me:Ok good. Can you please tell my daughter’s dance teacher that she’s unable to make class.
Man:What class?
Me:Ummmm tonight’s ballet class. At 6:30. The one that starts in 25 mins.
Man:Ok, what you want?
Me:What I want? I want you to give my daughter’s dance teacher a message. PLEASE. Can you do that? Is this the dance studio?
Man:Yes. Dance.
Me:Ok, my child is supposed to be at the 6:30 class TONIGHT but she can’t make it, so could you kindly let her teacher know?
Man:What teacher?
Me:Ok, am I on Candid Camera? Is this Dance on Edge dance studio??????
Man:Yes.
Me:Ok because I was worried this was the FREAKIN’ TWILIGHT ZONE.
Man:I don’t get it.
Me:Please give the teacher the message.
Man:What you want?
Me:I want you to take the biggest banana you can find and then I want you to shove it up your nose and then I want you to drive rusty nails in your eyes….no, no, wait, drive rusty nails in my eyes because clearly I’m going insane and I’d rather die of some kind of rusty nail poisoning than to try to get through your brain that is clearly made of mush or shit, not sure which. Maybe mushy shit. Anyhoooo, if you could give my daughter’s teacher the message I’d really, super appreciate it.
Man:What you want?
Me:OMG shoot me now.
***Note*** I flushed my head in the toilet after this, banged my head on a brick wall 8 times, drove toothpicks under my nails and watched Britney Spears videos to torture myself because obviously I am going nuts.
We have an air conditioner. So do alot of other people I’m sure. Big deal. But it was brought to my attention earlier this year, that I’m white trash because of it….not me personally but anyone who owns one. And not by anyone I know but I was reading at a MSN group and this one chick posted that she was upset because her neighbor had just installed an “in the window” type air conditioner. She went on to say how she lives in an upper class community and it’s just unheard of to have an air conditioner in one’s window. All the rage apparently, is central air. Well, la de friggin da.
I’ve had my air conditioner since I was 22 months pregnant with my daughter, Maddy. We lived back east and the humidity was enough to kill a small cow. It was often suffocating in the summer months, sweat pouring down your body even when you were just sitting still and not even barely breathing. It was horrid. Add to that, a child living in your womb, and well, it sucks.
I begged hubby to buy me an air conditioner. He said sure, it would be an early birthday present. I was elated! We found one on sale, had lots of BLT’S, no, wait, BIG’S, nope, BTU’S…something like that. Anyway, we bought that baby and came home and I immediately had my darling man installing it. I loved that thing. How I would stand in front of it and let the cool air wash over my sweaty, get this child out of me, pregnant body. It was pure Heaven!
When we moved out west, we left the humidity behind but still had hot temperatures to contend with during summer months and who wants to sweat while playing online? Sheesh. So we get out our AC every summer, without fail. But I did notice that not many people here having AC’s. Or they are all fancy schmancy and have central air. So after reading this girls post about how anyone with a window AC is definately white trash, it made me think……..OMG am I white trash?
What else constitutes “white trash”? Is my favorite color “shiny”? Well I do like glitter and shiny stuff. We eat CheeseWhiz…is that part of the list? I think it could be. I have used a hot glue gun to hem my pants (I can’t sew) and I’ve often safety-pinned a button back on my shirt because I couldn’t sew it back on. I recyle tissue paper. I reuse water bottles after I’ve drank the bottled water out of them. Doesn’t this make me “crafty” as opposed to white trash-ish? I’m not quite sure. I mean I don’t have central air, but I want to stay cool, so I have to use my window AC.
So I wonder if our neighbors talk about us when our big white AC goes in the window?
House 124….”Oh George, did you see house 1**? Oh my gosh, they’ve put in their white trash cool air blower in. Shameful. How could anyone live like that George?”
House 132….”Susan, come quick!!!! House 1** is putting in that thing again. In their window! How dreadful! Don’t open the door if they ever ring our bell. And for Godsake don’t let our children play with their white trash children. Lock the doors.”
House 141…”Donald, I will not live in this neighborhood any longer! I will not! You can’t make me! Look…Look…Look! House 1** has put in that, that, that, eye sore once again! God, I will not live like this.”
I can hear it all now. But I refuse to give up my AC. Maybe someday I will be all rich and shit too and have the totally popular and very stylish central air but until then, I’m using my white trash bathe me in cool air, box in my window!!! Hmmmpphhh.
I have a book I keep on my desk for writing notes in, phone messages and other random crap. So I’m flipping through it the other day and in the middle of the book, in teeny tiny print (that’s how Matt does all his work), is a little note to me. It says…Holla’ Fo’chizzo to tha’ Lechelle’izzo yo’!!!! My L-Dawg, L-Unit…Homie L Yo’!! I just love his outbursts of make no sense shit. He’s a good boy.
Yesterday was our family day. Most Sunday’s the 7 of us go out someplace….could be to a park, a picnic, a special event or it could be us renting movies and pigging out or going shopping. The point is we’re all together for most of the day. Anyway, yesterday we went out shopping and later on Sean, Amanda and Maddy had an early supper at McDonalds. So hubby stops at the grocery store to get himself, me and Matt something for our supper. We get home, put grocies away and make supper. The 2 little ones are playing, Sean and Amanda are settling in for the night and Anthony, Matt and I are sitting down at the table, enjoying our supper. We’re chit chatting, about nothing inparticular, when out of the blue Matt says,
“Hey, if you could choose any scent for your poo, what scent would you pick? I’d pick coconut.”
Anthony and I look at each other and are wondering if we should perhaps put Matt in therapy. I’m like, wow, how about we talk about the scratch on the table because the poo topic is not one I usually enjoy while eating. Now don’t get me wrong, I LOVE a good poo story, I mean who doesn’t? But talking about poo while I’m eating, just isn’t appealing. Maybe I’m a freak, I dunno. Anyway, so we turn our focus back to Matt and I say,
“Ummmm, well that’s really not what I want to talk about since I’m eating.”
Then Anthony pipes up, “Well come on, let’s answer anyway, can’t hurt.”
Ya, well I’m pretty sure noone’s poo is going to change to a wonderful fragrance such as coconut or flowers or whatever, so what’s the point? But they’re both looking at me now, like I’m the big party pooper…..no pun intended.
Anthony says, “I’d like mine to smell like apples because that’s my favorite scent. Nothing better than the fragrance of an apple orchird.”
That’s great honey. They turn their focus on me again. Waiting. I’m thinking, oh my gawd, I can’t believe we’re actually deciding on what our poo should smell like. It’s poo people, it’s going to smell like shit. Period.
They’re staring now. What kind of question is that anyway? How does Matt come up with this stuff? Well they’ve stopped eating now, waiting on baited breath for my answer. Finally I relent because clearly they’re not going to let me NOT answer this.
“Sweet Pea body spray. That’s what I wish poo smelled like guys.” Can we finish eating now? Geez. You just never know what or where our dinner conversations will go. Welcome to the Nuthouse.
I love the community we live in. It’s for the most part, quiet, everything is close to us, tons of stuff within walking distance, everything at your fingertips. Our street is a cul de sac and although fairly big, it’s quiet and noone really ever bothers you. Well almost never.
We live next door to an older couple, I’m guessing in their late 60’s if not early 70’s. The old guy is pretty nice, always says hello, waves etc. Never really had a problem with them until this past summer. They have 2 small dogs and that was never an issue until they built their fence. Well after the completion of their spanking new white fence, they would happily go to work and their small gray shit mutt would make his way through the tiny “doggy door” they had cut out of their back door. That wouldn’t necessarily be a problem had their little shit hound kept his yappy, annoying, high pitched barking trap shut. And this dog (and I’m sorry but it weighs like maybe 4 lbs…it’s a hairy cat I’m sure) barked for HOURS. Not just a yap here and there but a continuous, torturous, sound barrier splitting, blood coming out of your ears, rather poke rusty nails in your eye sockets than listen to that dog bark just one more time kind of bark. My living room wall faces their backyard, so when I would be trying to happily enjoy my computer time, I’d hear it. Go on and on and on and on and on…………OH MY GAWD. Shoot me. No, wait, shoot the dog. Remove it’s vocal cords, send electric shocks through it’s ass, something, anything. Send electric shocks through my ass if it will stop the insanity of having to listen to that dog. Make it stop.
This went on for days, weeks, it never stopped until they got home at suppertime each day. I had every intention of calling Animal Control and reporting them. But I got lazy and never got around to it. Hubby said he was going to talk to them before we would report them if we decided to report them. Well one evening while hubby and I were out, and the older kids were home, the doorbell rang. It was yappy dog’s granny canvassing the neighborhood, wanting to know who reported her for her asshole dog’s continuous barking. Matt answered the door and told her, that the dog was quite annoying (yay Matt!) but that as far as he knew his parents didn’t call Animal Control. She proceeded to tell Matt that she was going to go door to door and find out who did this. They were fined $500 bucks (awwww, that bites doesn’t it?) and she was determined to find the culprit. I’d like to know too and give them a fucking medal, a trophy and a big wet kiss. Thank the Lord for whoever called! I’d kiss their freakin’ feet.
Anyway, after that, we didn’t hear yappy asshole out much and the barking pretty much stopped. I think they kept it inside after that. Well fast forward to this past Thursday evening. I had just got the kids to bed and was enjoying the quiet when the doorbell rang. I open my front door to granny go lucky and she starts off the conversation, with “Have you heard the dog barking?” (and she says it in a snarky, old bitty, want to slap your face kind of voice). I tell her no that I’ve not heard it all lately. I put on a fake smile and wish she’d leave immediately. She’s really a weird old bird. Then she says, (in the same bitchy voice), “Well we went out and bought one of them there collars and it cost me $100 bucks.” Wow, like I fucking care. As long as that thing isn’t barking and making my ears bleed, I could give a rats ass what you do with your money or your shit mutt. However, I didn’t really say that, I sure thought it though. I just continued to fake smile at her and replied, “Lovely.” She stormed away without another word. Wow, love thy neighbor. Uh hunh.
While reading my friend Penny’s “tagged” answers, I realized that I should have put Johnny Depp on my 7 Celebrity crushes but that would have made 8 but who says you can’t have 8 crushes? I know the question asks for 7 answers but hell, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say I have 8 and that last one is Johnny Depp. Ya. He’s hot.
Daddy: “Hey Ryan, dress your ass in the lastest fashions”…..A line derived from Nickelbacks song Rockstar.
Ryan: “WHAT?”….in a shrill, loud, omg dad, you’re a tard voice.
A big thank you to Karen for taggin’ me yo’! Let’s get started!!!
7 celebrity crushes:
Chad Kroeger from Nickelback- Holy shit he’s hot when he rocks out.
Brad Pitt-I still kinda like him but after he cheated on his wife, well his hot level dropped. But in a pinch I’d hit it.
Matthew McCaughney-Wow. No description needed.
Vince Vaughn-After I saw him in Wedding Crashers I was like, he’s hot in a normal everyday kinda way. Nice smile. Very funny.
Colin Farrell-He’s a dirty boy. Yum.
Richard Gere-Yes he’s approaching the point where he could almost be my dad but I love his eyes…reminds me of my hubby, very sexy eyes.
Matt Damon-He’s sexy in a boy next door way….man I wish he was next door!
7 Things I’m good at:
Making graphics
Being a mom
Photography
Writing? Well some people are telling me that I am, so I will take their word for it!
XXX…can’t say. Hahahahaha.
Shopping…Yay!
Being a wife
7 things I plan to do before I die:
See my children grow up to adulthood
Have another photograph published
Have some writing published
Have breast implants…shut up.
Own my own house
Have a credit card…malls here I come…kidding…I need good credit!
Learn to swim…currently, I do a sad, pathetic dog paddle.
7 things I cannot do:
Stop worrying…..I’m a freak. Kinda.
Swim….read above.
Whistle with my fingers….Waaaaaa.
Stop worrying…..see I said I’m a freak.
Fly without getting nausous…thank God for Gravol.
Cook…read Raccoon Meatloaf
Leave my bed unmade…..FREAK.
7 things that attract me to the opposite sex:
Eyes…These are in no particular order BTW.
Hands
Mouth
Voice
Ass……well you know that would be on the list somewhere! Hubby’s is hot!
Masculinity….love a man’s man…which my hubby clearly is.
Intelligence
7 things I say often:
Oh My Gawd….all the friggin’ time.
Totally…Totally all the friggin’ time.
Frig….all the friggin’ time.
Shit Monkeys….Karen just loves this one…Riiiiiight.
I love you….to my family and friends.
Are you kidding me?….No I’m clearly not.
No this is NOT Tim Horton’s….Wrong numbers, gotta love them.
Thank you Karen, this was fun!!!!!
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