Stinkin Thinkin

That’s what my shrink calls it.
AKA: Mental Masturbation.

It’s 3:30 in the morning and I can’t sleep.
I can’t turn off my brain.
My head is searching for answers.
My heart is pleading for peace.
Both hurt.

TC is struggling.
I haven’t been talking much about her lately.
Another one of my head games I suppose.
If I don’t talk about her dying…
Maybe she isn’t.

She’s sad.
She cries all the time.
She’s scared.
And she misses Billy Goat.

I’ve been falling down on her.
“Self preservation” Mike calls it.
I’ve got to get back in the game.
Put my helmet and pads back on.
Face the opponent.
Death.

It’s hard though.
To suit up.
To fight.
When you already know the final score.

I worry about Dini’s boys.
All three of them.
It’s been 45 days since she died.
45 days.
Without her hugs and kisses.
Without her “I love you’s”.
Without her incredible smile.

It’s 4 a.m.
I’m tired.
I need sleep.
But I can’t stop thinkin.

Stinkin Thinkin.

FeedBlitz

Every once in a blue moon,
I feel the need to advance technologically.
That time is now.

FeedBlitz is, (or so they say), the latest, greatest, tool in the Blogosphere.
In a nutshell, it will send you an email alerting you to the fact that I have once again posted a riveting story on my blog about my incredibly exciting life.

Settle down, settle down.
I’ll take your questions one at a time in an orderly fashion.
Just like I live above said life.

What is FeedBlitz?

FeedBlitz turns Blogs and feeds (RSS and Atom) into emails to subscribers.

How does it do that?

Don’t know, don’t care.
Technology bores me.
Next question please.

Does FeedBlitz cost me money to subscribe?

No.
If it did, they would be out of business.
No one really cares about this crap.

So how do they make money?

Beat’s me.
But I can assure you, they’re not just doing it out of the goodness of their heart.
Next.

Should I sign up for FeedBlitz?

If you like my blog and look forward to my new posts…Yes.
If you don’t give a rat’s ass about it…then, um…No.
No hard feelings, I’ll never know one way or the other.

How do I subscribe?

Good question Mom.
Scroll down to the bottom of the front page of my blog and follow the prompt.
If I figured out how to get it on there,
You can figure out how what to do with it.
I have great faith in my reader’s technological know how.

Can I unsubscribe?

Yes, but why would you want to?
This is riveting stuff.

Are these guys’ spammers?

No. They will never share email address information unless required to do so by a court.
So stay the hell out of trouble!

Any parting words of advice for your loyal readers?

Yes.
Your Doctor is your friend.
Visit him soon.
He may save your life.

I May Hate Myself in the Morning…

But I’m gonna tell you tonight.

I’ve officially joined Weight Watchers.
(I work best under pressure!)
Tomorrow will be my one week weigh-in.

Now I’m no WW virgin.
I know all the tricks.

Last week, at the initial weigh-in, I ate breakfast before I went.
I drank a beverage on the way to my meeting.
I wore heavy clothes.
I did not remove any jewelry, especially my big honkin tank watch.
And for God’s sake, (ok mine), I did not go to the bathroom before I weighed in.
That would be a rookie mistake.

That’s week one.

Week 2 and beyond…
New game.
New rules.

I will starve myself before I go to the 10a.m. meeting.
There will be no partaking of any beverages en route.
I may in fact, bring along a “spit-cup” instead.
I will dress like Daisy Duke.
Less is more.
There will be no jewels worn on weigh-in day.
And no matter how many times the line wraps around the building,
(I’m not the only one privy to the WW tricks)
I will empty my bladder one last time before I step onto the dreaded scale.

Head games?
Absolutely.
There’s something psychological about needing a big first week weight loss.

If you’re a WW veteran like I am,
You know exactly what you have to do.

Fake it until you make it!

Run, Don’t Walk….

To the nearest pump.

I just filled up my monstrosity for $2.59 a gallon.
I was thrilled to top off the tank for a mere 51 buckaroos.

If my instincts are right,
Gas will be over 3 bucks a gallon again by my next fill-up.

Let me say for the record,
There is nothing scientific about my prediction.
Just good old fashioned experience.

It just seems every time we relax a little bit at the pump and say “Ahhh”,
It turns out to be the peck on your cheek,
Right before the ram up your rump.

I may not be right,
But I doubt that I’m wrong.

Such a Waste…

Have you ever noticed how little I blog about Mike?
I may “mention” him from time to time,
But I never out and out blog about him.

Why you wonder?
Because he’s off limits.
He told me so a long time ago.

Oh I’ve tried before.
But he’s nixed them every time.

The only reason I mention him now is because people ask.
They think he’s hilarious
And I have to agree with them.
Mikey makes for good material.
He’s a Blogger’s dream.

But blogging about someone personally,
Even if it’s intended to be funny,
Can quickly cross the line and hurt feelings.
Or at the very least, piss them off.

So don’t look for Mikey’s antics to be reported here.
I have to live with the man.
You don’t.

That said…
I wish I could tell you what he did at the Demolition Derby last week.
It was classic.
Classic Mikey!

But sorry, Mum’s the word!
I’ll tell him his fans have been asking for him.
Maybe he’ll give in and throw me a bone.

Mi-KEY…Mi-KEY…Mi-KEY…

Going, Going, Gone…

Early risers were treated to a light show on Downtown Indy streets this morning.
Street lights rapidly flashed on and off causing a strobe light effect.
Apparently it was quite a show and the locals were perplexed as to what was going on.
Officials blame it on a “malfunctioning relay” but I know the real scoop!

It was a Celebration.
Indianapolis was bidding us adieu.

We got a call late last night with an offer on the house.
The first and only one in 6 months.
As we say in my old business…
The first bid’s the best bid, hit it!

The buyers are pre-approved and have already sold their home,
So it looks pretty promising that this could be the real deal.
Never the less, I’ll be down on my knees today praying to Saint Joseph, the Patron Saint of real estate matters and home sales.

We buried a statue of St Joseph when we first listed the house back in February.
It has to be done in a specific way.
Bury the statue upside down, head downward, facing east, in the hole and cover it over.
Then you recite the “Prayer to Saint Joseph for Selling a House” every night.

We did “most” nights...
maybe that’s why it took so long.

Never underestimate the power of a Patron Saint!

School Days, School Days…

Dear old golden rule days.

It’s here.
Can you hear it?
A collective sigh of relief.
The darlings are back in school.

It’s bittersweet actually.
On one hand, I was so ready for this.
But on the other…
I miss them already.

They looked so big, climbing onto the school bus.
Nick looks like a little man.
His shoe size is now bigger than mine.

And Jordie was the epitome of a 13 year old girl;
Just willing her self confidence to make an appearance on this first day of 8th grade.
She’ll do fine.
She always does.
It’s just my job, as a Mom, to worry.

We’re going to the cemetery now.
Elaine (Dini’s mother-in-law), Jill (Dini’s good friend and neighbor) and myself.

We’re going to tell Dini that Ryan and Nathan got on the school bus just fine.
That they’re Dad followed them to school and helped them to their classrooms.
We will tell her that Ryan got a great teacher this year.
She’s kind and sensitive, just like her son.

Nathan started Kindergarten today.
He was so excited to get on the bus with the big kids.
He flashed that beautiful smile that he got from you.
He’s got the same Kindergarten teacher that Jordie had.
She is wonderful and she will take great care of your little boy.

We know that we don’t have to tell Dini any of these things.
This visit is as much for us as it is for her.
She knows her boys are in good hands and that they are loved.
Especially by her.
She’s with them now, and she is with us.

We just miss her so much.
Her smile, her laugh and her goodness.
We miss all of her.

Cool Name, Cool Dog

Billy Goat.
TC’s loyal canine companion.
Her best buddy.

Billy would go everywhere that TC went.
He’d follow her from room to room.
Not in an annoying way.
He just wanted to be where ever she was.

They’d go on country drives together.
Billy Goat hanging out the window with his big hound dog ears flying in the wind.
His “flubbers” as they referred to his lips, curled back from the force of the country air speeding by.
TC cherished those days.

Billy got sick shortly after TC was diagnosed.
He was quickly loosing weight off his huge frame.
The vet couldn’t find anything wrong with him.

Billy would go days at a time without seeing TC when she was in the hospital.
When she’s home, she sleeps so much, Billy would climb up in bed with her.
When TC moved in with my Mom,
Billy moved too.
We all watched as TC got sicker,
Billy did too.

The vet was clearly perplexed.
They ran all kinds of tests on Billy Goat.
They thought maybe he had an ulcer,
Maybe he was just depressed.
But nothing definitive was ever found.

Billy Goat died yesterday.
TC lay next to him on the floor and sang to comfort him.
She told him they’d be together again soon.
And that they’d both be well again for a ride in the country.

Billy Goat died of a broken heart.
And now, cruelly, our hearts are broken too.
Again.

Just last week at the vet,
One of the technicians drew an artist’s sketch of Billy.
It really captures his unique look and TC is lucky to have it.

On it she wrote,
“Cool name, cool dog”.
And indeed he was.

India-No-Place

Extra cops flood Indianapolis state fair

RICK CALLAHAN
Associated Press

INDIANAPOLIS - Police boosted security in and around the state fairgrounds to help ensure that the Indiana State Fair isn't marred by the sort of violence that's left 13 people in the city dead in recent days.


Well this little tidbit of news isn’t going to help dump that house.
13 people dead.
That’s a lot.
That would be a lot in New York City or L.A.
But Indy?

Maybe it’s time Mike and I face up to the fact that we own a “Vacation Home” in Indiana.
Lucky for you, we’re generous people.
Take it, it’s yours.
Stay a week, stay a month.
Whatever.
We’ll leave the key under the mat.

Just remember to duck and weave while you’re there.
And for added security…
Stay away from the State Fair.

Holy Cow!

I went to the County Fair last night.
The temperature was over 100 degrees with 56% humidity.
Brutal.

I’ve not yet absorbed all that I witnessed.
I think I’m still in denial.
Suffice it to say the human oddities were out in force.

For your entertainment,
Here are some early thoughts and observations from the fair.

Eighteen:

Number of men I counted in Bib Overalls with no shirt on underneath.
And trust me on this, they really needed a shirt on.

“Party like a Country Girl”:

My favorite T-shirt.
It was worn by a pimply faced teenager who was 8 months pregnant.
Party on darlin.

5 bucks for a funnel cake:

5 bucks!
Man…you get a typical redneck family of 13 loadin up on them badboys and you got yourself half of this month’s trailer park payment.

Bubba:

What’s a county fair without half a dozen Bubba’s?
We of course pronounce our own beloved Bubba,” Boo-ba”.
He’s a cut above the rest!

Buck a Ride Night:

Now here’s a new parenting low point for me.
Apparently, the rides are only a buck on opening night.
That’s when the Carnies “test-drive” their equipment.
They watch for things like nuts and bolts flying off that might cause our little darlings to propel hundreds of feet into the air only to land (hopefully) in a pile of horse dung.
If no one is injured or maimed, mission accomplished and the cost of the ride goes up to 3 bucks the next night.
Good old fashioned risk vs. reward.

Most valuable lesson learned:

Never, ever have a facial the day of the County Fair.
My recently cleaned and open pours were quickly filled with billions of tiny little particles of bullshit floating through the country air!

And horse shit and goat shit and chicken shit………….

When the going gets tough…

The tough get a massage and a facial!

Damn…
Is there a medical limit as to how many of those you should have?
Is daily too often?
Rub me, scrub me…talk dirty to me,
Hell I don’t care.
Just DON’T STOP!

And as an added bonus…
My headache went away.
Temporarily.
Maybe I should go back tomorrow!

A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do!

If I Only had a Brain

I could wile away the hours
Conferrin' with the flowers
Consultin' with the rain
And my head I'd be scratchin'
While my thoughts were busy hatchin'
If I only had a brain
(Scarecrow, Wizard of Oz)

I have an MRI scheduled this week.
Dr. Doom is concerned about my headaches.
He’s a bit of an alarmist.

I on the other hand,
Am simply looking forward to proving that
There is indeed a brain inside my head.

After more than three years outside the work force,
Most of that time in the company of children…
One has to wonder!

“Tropical Storm Chris Runs Out of Steam”

SAN JUAN, Puerto Rico - Tropical Storm Chris rapidly ran out of steam Thursday morning as it pushed across the eastern Caribbean, prompting forecasters to say it was unlikely to become a hurricane.
By LAURA CANDELAS, Associated Press Writer

Ya think???

Typical weather forecasters.

If they just would have called me first.
I would have told them…
I ran out of steam weeks ago!

It’s August in Kansas…

That means one thing.
It’s time for the County Fair.
Yee-Haw!

The Johnson County fair kicks off Sunday with a Rabbit Show.
Unfortunately our beloved “Bun-bun” kicked the bucket last year in Texas.
(The kids are still blaming me for this)
Hence, no rabbit show for us this year!

Monday is a dog obedience show.
Tucker (rhymes with…) will also be a no show!

Thursday evening is Barrel Racing, Jordie’s favorite,
Followed by the Bull Blast.

And Saturday night…the crescendo, drum roll please…
The Demolition Derby!
Hot damn.

All the while there is a carnival going on.
The Carnies set these monstrosities up in 3 hours tops.
Safety is not their top priority.
These rides shake you, flip you, drop you and smash you.
But we adults just dole out the tickets to our little darlings and tell them to “run off and have a good time now!”

You’ll only find the finest cuisine at these fairs.
Funnel cakes and corn fritters.
Dippin dots and smoked turkey legs.
Chances are if it’s fried…it’s here.

People watching is by far the best at these fairs.
I remember one year, a family was walking toward me and all four of them were decked out in biker gear.
The man was bald and he waxed his head for that "Mr. Clean" look.
As he passed me by, I just had to turn around to get the view from the back.
To my amazement he had a tattoo on the back of his perfectly polished head, dead center.
It was an eyeball.
Way creepy!

But the Country Music stage is my favorite place to hang out.
They often have singers on that stage who are just longing for one more shot at the big-time.
Often too, they are stuck in time.
You can always tell what decade they “almost made it in” by the outfits they wear, the style of their hair and the songs they sing.
Many of them were obviously disappointed in the 80’s.

And speaking of songs…
This is as good a time as any to once again profess my top 5 favorite country song titles of all time:

#5. Get your tongue outta my mouth cuz I’m kissin you goodbye.

#4. Got in at 2 with a 10, and woke up at 10 with a 2.

#3. I’m so miserable without you, it’s like having you here.

#2. If I’d a shot you when I wanted to, I’d be out by now.

And my all time favorite at #1…

You left teethe marks in my heart. (That one’s for you Jeanie!)


See y’all at the fair!

Comic Relief

Because if I don’t find something to laugh about,
My head is going to explode.

So here are some old jokes that still make me chuckle…

...I was at a bar one night, it was full of a rowdy bachelorette party. The bride was so drunk her veil was hanging in her margarita. It was disgusting. I finally said, “Ma’am, as many times as I’ve been married, I’ve never gone out and gotten drunk the night before the wedding. I always thought about the baby first.”


...I don’t even have a savings account because I don’t know my mother’s maiden name, and apparently that’s the key to the whole thing.


...I was a New York State employee and after nine years of dedicated service they fired me for no reason. One day they just marched into my office, woke me up, and told me to go home.


...An Amish boy and his father were visiting a nearby mall. They were amazed by almost everything they saw, but especially by two shiny silver walls that moved apart and back together again by themselves. The lad asked, "What is this, father?" The father (having never seen an elevator) responded, "I have no idea what it is." While the boy and his father were watching wide-eyed, an old lady in a wheelchair rolled up to the moving walls and pressed a button. The walls opened and the lady rolled between them into a small room. The walls closed and the boy and his father watched as small circles lit up above the walls. The walls opened up again and a beautiful twenty-four-year-old woman stepped out. The father looked at his son anxiously and said, "Go get your mother."

And finally…

...A woman goes to an ice cream parlor and asks for a chocolate ice cream cone. The clerk apologizes and says that they are out of chocolate and asks her if she'd like to choose a different flavor. The customer says, "Sure, just give me chocolate, please." The clerk again apologizes, and thinking that the woman didn't hear him, says, "I'm sorry, we don't have any chocolate left. Is there another flavor that I can get for you?" The woman says, "Well I guess I'll have chocolate." The clerk, extremely pissed now, tells the woman, "Spell VAN as in vanilla." The woman spells out, "V-A-N." "Now," says the clerk, "spell STRAW as in strawberry." The woman spells out, "S-T-R-A-W." "Okay," says the clerk, "Now spell FUCK as in Chocolate." The woman looks dumbfounded for a moment and proclaims, "Wait - there's no 'FUCK' in 'chocolate!'" And the Clerk replies, "That's what I've been trying to tell you!"

And that folks is why I only do two shows a night.