Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Oh You Sucka, You.....

Hey Readers....

I'm just wondering...when someone works so hard to aggravate you, when that person practically lights black candles in your do you respond? I mean if this person and you were hiking, they would most likely hit you with a boulder and eat chopped bits of you with their trail do you respond?

In my case, I respond to the real inquiry of that foul-mouthed angry (jealous?) person. I can fish out the actual subject matter despite the fact that it is smothered in WTFesque tone. I respond in a cool, calm matter. As much as that homicidal maniac might want me to panic and fold, I don't.

The hardest part is trying to keep my voice and face from cracking in hysterical laughter when I see how much it IRKS the maniac that they just can't get to me.

In essence, I am more threatened by mosquitoes. They bite and flee without warning. Short of Off, I have no defense. A mosquito bit my knee yesterday THROUGH my pants. At least when the foul-mouthed angry clearly jealous person has something to say, I can respond.

So this blog is for you and all your similar liked minded you sit and plan and scheme ways to get under my skin? Do I look like someone who took the red crayon from you in kindergarten? What is it about me that bugs you so much? Why do you work so hard to aggravate me? I don't respond to your abusive ways because you mean nothing to me. You are less than a mosquito, I've dealt with higher rank a$$holes than you. I've been places and I'm going places that you will never darken with your evil ways.

I put up with you simply for entertainment purposes. You might as well be a Sim.

You will never see this blog, since that would mean you'd have to read. If your reading is anything like your writing, your eyes have never even glanced at a page with any sort of recognition.

You are pathetic. I'm happy to say that if not for the particular circumstances, I'd never had met you.

Dear Readers, thank you for providing me a forum to vent. Now back to our originally scehduled happy programming. Today is National Aviation Day in honor of the birthday of aviator Orville Wright. Go out and fly a plane, a paper one if you are crafty.

You get me. That's why I love you.


Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Twenty-Fourth Tuesday

Dear Readers,

Wow, we are really coming along nicely...24+ blogs. Special blog-out to my Lovely who strong-armed me into starting this blog. Maybe "strong-arm" is an exaggeration, but it is what it is. How is everyone today? I'm in a hot hot hot school with very very very aggressive bugs. You take that for what it sounds like, I'm not opening a discussion. So. Yesterday was Monday and you know what that means....

We decided to switch things up and hit the trails instead of the track. I for one did not want to compete with the football tryouts. There is nothing more agitating to jog in the hot sun, except to jog in the hot sun with adolescents racing by you for "fun". These kids run like they really do have wings. While we are jogging, sweating, gasping and nearly crying from the sweat salting our contacts, these kids are running with smiles! I'd say that is real evidence of age. Adults don't smile when they run, children do. When we run, we are either working out (no smile) or escaping The Killer (no smile). If you ever happen to see an adult running with a smile, RUN, because he/she is The Killer.

The trail was a nice change of pace, because there was more to look at, in the same turn I saw a butterfly and a homeless person. By no means am I saying anything bad about the homeless person, but the homeless are a part of the city, so why credit the butterfly and ignore the homeless? This could turn into a PSA (public service announcement)but I will let it be. Did I ever tell you how incredibly S-L-O-W I can be? No? Good, its none of your damned concern. Actually, I didn't know what PSA meant for the longest time. That is not the only acronym that I missed. The sad part is, when I actually do realize the meanings, I have these illuminating moments of truth, in which I want to share my new found knowledge, but I don't want to look like the ass who just realized AMEX is American Express or GWB is George Washington Bridge. There are so many more, but I think those three should applease your need to mock me.

So in between JogDays, we have WeightLiftingDays, I did not want to weight train, especially once it was bought to my attention that we must also do sit-ups. It all sounded like a whole lot of "oh crap, oh no, c'mon, seriously". What I am about to share with you Dear Readers is the weight routine that My Lovely has put together for us. I'm not charging you anything, because this is no great secret and also because I know that you cheapskates won't pay me, as evident of the CLICK RIGHT HERE attempted many blogs ago. I'm still waiting for checks.


Everything is done in reps of 15. First we did three reps of sit-ups. I honestly thought that I would not be able to do the sit-ups and complained to my Lovely. Uh yeah, long story short, I actually made them look hella easy. Since she loves me, I'm still here...because if we were nemesis(s?), I'd be Dead and Gone (great book, look it up dear). I came up with a rather creative way to inspire my Lovely to complete her sit-ups, shut up your mouth. For the weight training, we did three different exercises. We held the weight(s) above and behind our heads and lifted. I was uber concerned that I was going to hit my head, or crumble my spine, that I could not keep my elbow in the right position. My Lovely had to hold my elbows, I looked like a really weird crab. Then we steadied one hand on the desk (yes, we work out in an office-don't judge)and then with the weight in the other hand we swung it behind us. The last one was seated on the couch (yes we have a couch in the office, that's how we do) and lifted the weight from between our legs. It is not as erotic as it sounds.

We are really determined to keep up our regimen. I really enjoyed the trail, we even did this cool Rocky-esque run up and down the stairs. I felt so pumped, I leaped on top of a bench and jogged across. That was a sight, I'm not a short woman. I've been described as a tall drink of water...I'd rather a quick shot of rum-but that's just me.

Were we supposed to cover anything else? I don't think so, I'm trying to keep things simple-its really too hot to be Oh So Lola. I went to see my good friend in the hospital yesterday. He recently suffered a stroke. He can't really speak, so it was just me blabbing away. I hope I entertained him. He sort of smiled, but mostly grimaced. I offered to return and he nodded, but when I offered to read to him, he opted out. I hope you feel better. In fact, I know you will feel better and when you are ready, we will laugh about this. Take care.

Dear Readers, I know that you don't like to end on a somewhat sad point, so here is another point...maybe, just maybe a veryclose friend of mine will be having gasp twins instead of one lonesome baby. I am still gasping over her pregnancy, let alone two for the bang of one. To protect her privacy, I won't share her name-well I don't share anyone's I lovingly dub her Mommy2B(x2?)...aka M2B. M2B will know in early September if she is going to need one of those clumsy dual strollers. OMG..I am really excited, one, two or even three, I'm excited. She is a reader, so if she reads this and wants my head on a platter with a side of fries and onion rings, then I will leave well enough alone. I love you in a really platonic happy I'm not your baby daddy way...speaking of which the father of the baby(ies) is a great guy too.

See-I cover all bases.
Today is August 18. Some notable dates according to Wikipedia:
1920 – The Nineteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution is ratified, guaranteeing women's suffrage.
1934 – Roberto Clemente, Puerto Rican baseball player and humanitarian (d. 1972)
1952 – Patrick Swayze, American actor
1970 – Malcolm-Jamal Warner, American actor

Today is also National Bad Poetry Day.

Roses are red,
violets are blue,
icy is the Popsicle unless its a creamsicle,
then creamy it be.
Fly a butterfly,
Sting like a bee,
Eat like a vegan,
No meat for me

That is my contribution to Bad Poetry Day. I'm sorry that I used the whole roses, violets, butterfly and bee...and no I'm not a vegan. Perhaps in my next life I will be

Lola, the vegan bee
Who sleeps with the Lovely butterfly
While suckling on Popsicles
and jogging through obstacles

You get me. That's why I love you.


Thursday, August 13, 2009

Hello Hello Hello

Hey batta batta batta ssssssswwwwwwwiiiiiiinnnnnng batta!

Good Morning Readers!

I do not follow sports. I just love Ferris Bueller. If you have seen the greatest movie ever, than you don't need to even question my motives. So how is everyone this damp, soggy morning? I left the house this morning without an umbrella. I feel like umbrellas are a product of THE MAN, and it is part of my natural essence to get wet in the rain.

Easily spoken by someone who can never hold onto an umbrella. I lose them all the time. I had two great umbrellas, my YU one and one that my mother gave me. I know that I left the YU one on a bus; the other one I think was taken, VINA...perhaps you have SEEN it. When I chopped my hair done to thismuch, I bought a brown rain hat. Omg, I looked so foreign. Lovely, you may insert a "Hello Governor" here. Readers, are you ok with me addressing people in my blog? I don't want to offend you, nor bore you with inside jokes. This is why we need the reader's mail bag. But noooooooo you all can Facebook, Twitter, Myspace, Blogspot, and everything, but help us all if you slap a stamp on an envelope.

JOG TIME JOG TIME JOG TIME Yes Readers, its that time of the blog to update you on the most euphoric thing since morning ah coffee-yeah that's the ticket...morning coffee. When we first started jogging, we would alternate jog/walk for 30min. I don't know if I told you, but out of the few times we had to stay in and jog on the treadmill, I was able to do the straight 30min jog twice. Yesterday, I decided that I was going to stop concentrating on the finish line and just keep going. Well. I jogged around that track three times. THREE TIMES. After I stopped, I didn't even feel like my feet were touching the ground. Oh what a feeling. It was awesome. I could have done without the odd combination of stiff legs and loose knees, but it felt good. I encourage you to jog. Really, once you get into it, you feel incomplete without it, just like morning coffee.

I have a few chinks in my armour, which is saying a lot since my armour is more like cheap foil paper. Folks who know me beyond this blog know my biggest issues. I try to concentrate on the good in me, but if you don't see the inky ickyness, you have nothing to compare the good to. Without comparison, you are in the darky darkness...hahahhahahahhaha darky darkness....I'm all Harry Potter today. As suggested to me last night in response to something I said. No, I will not tell you what I said. I have to keep some things to myself, like this rash...kidding. I am a barrel of comedic genius today.

I don't even know what has pulled me to blog today, other than the jog speak I have nothing of merit to say. However, since when has this blog really been a thing of merit? I blog just the way that I talk, which to some in my personal life may not be as entertaining in person as it is in print. I say this to say, IF you find this sort of thing entertaining.

Uh oh...a fight is breaking out nearby. In actuality it is my duty to moderate the argument, but I don't want to deal. I manage adults and it these people can't figure out a way to get along, its not my job to push them. As long as the argument does not come to blows, then I'm staying out of it. You would think I work in a prison yard. One sec, while I lean from behind my screen and look concerned........

See? Fight over!
Management at its (her) finest.

You get me. That's why I love you.


Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Twenty-third Tuesday, I think...

Dear Readers,

First and foremost, I apologize for missing the 22nd Tuesday blog. I was unable to get to you. How is everyone? Since you can't answer, I imagine you are fine. What
's that? You want to know how I am? How utterly considerate of you.

I am conflicted (big shock). I am distracted (no kidding). I can't even begin to focus on anything really, but I'm going to try. Its times like this that I wish I can answer reader mail. That would be awesome. Right now I am sitting in my Lovely's living room. Her dear parents are all busy with little chores-despite my halfhearted offer of assistance-they seem to have things going. Super Dad is doing some bathroom work and is annoyed that the As Seen on TV product is really not living up to its promises. Super Mom is cooking...turkey legs, rice and spinach. The most strenuous thing I've done since getting here is kick off my sneakers.

The more I think about it, the more deadbeat I feel. Tonight I will creep into the kitchen and plan dinner for tomorrow. I get off from the salt mines early enough.

Let's stay on topic. I'm conflicted because I am contemplating a bleep change. To protect the innocent (me) I can't really go into the bleep. I can tell you however, I am good and tired of the present bleep and ready to look into a different bleep. I've spoken to a few people that I trust and respect and I feel that if I should jump the bleep, that I will be supported. I put up with so much at the bleep I am wondering if this bleep is for me. Its a very distracting course of thought, you must feel distracted right now. However at the tender age of not 40, I think I should have some leg room and time to make changes.

As I'm proofreading, I'm noticing so many errors. Its like I'm typing without the use of my thumbs, ring fingers and pinkies. I also find that I'm typing thoughts and then quickfire backspacing. That's not cool-I should be able to flow with my thoughts.

How about I give you some homework? Check me out! I'm so cheeky. Sometimes I think I am a real snob. Its hard to believe, but some of the thoughts that pass through this head, really should be kept to myself. I won't be surprised if you won't be surprised.

You should go online and watch Family Guy episode...hold on, I'm going to get you all the information. BRB. Season 4, Episode 428...Stewie B. Goode. Wow. I saw it last night for the first time and I was hysterical. Just to give you an idea, Stewie becomes an alcoholic. There is more to the episode than that, but that was the best. BRB...I'm going to see if I can get you a link. Here is a link from IMDB, one of my favorite sites....

That's it! I don't feel so distracted anymore. I'm going to to watch Family Guy.

I promise more content, good content on the Twenty-fourth Tuesday, please excuse me.

You get me, that's why I love you.


Sunday, August 2, 2009

One Saturday

My sister’s father died today.

The words look crazy as I type them. Do they sound crazy? You read right, my sister’s father died today. I remember when we were kids and even now as adults, to say to anyone, “my sister’s father”, I always got the look. What is so difficult? I always would explain, shamelessly, of course. David Dangerfield was nothing to hide. He was a wonderful man, a cool Dad, a perfect Grandpa (Papa D).

Our mother is a beautiful woman, this was never a secret. First there was my Dad, Kevin, then Vina’s Dad, David and finally Vance and Frances’s Dad, Big Vance. I figure we were lucky kids. David always made me feel like I was no different from Vina or Charisse (yes, my sister’s sister!). He was a firefighter. What kid would not want their Dad to be a firefighter? Every Christmas, they had a big party at the firehouse. It was the same thing every year, great food and music. The best part was when Santa came down the pole with gifts for all the kids. David always made sure there was a present for me. He would introduce me as his daughter, never his daughter’s sister. I never felt like he didn’t love me.

He was interested in my grades, in my life, and he made sure to ask me how I was. Most recently, he was on Facebook, right along with me and my other FB friends commenting on Hell’s Kitchen. He recently celebrated his wife’s birthday. David was so proud of his sons-all athletes; I think…definitely football that I know for sure. He had great daughters, fun, happy grandkids. TJ, David, Jordan, Jared, Charisse, Vina and Shanelle will miss their Dad. I don’t know how they must feel. Losing a parent just doesn’t make any sense. I’m a mom and I don’t want to see anything happen to my children, but I don’t want them to be left to mourn me either. I don’t know how my sister is handling the loss of her Daddy.

I don’t know. I feel like the loss of your parent is like losing half of yourself. Isn’t that odd? A parent can have many children, but a child can only have one parent. I’m so, so, so, so sorry that my sister has lost her father. I don’t know what to say to her to ease her suffering.

I sit here mourning the end of a man who was proud to introduce me as his daughter. You know, now that I think of it, he never explained where I came from or anything. He would just tell people, this is Christina, my daughter. While I did not lose my Daddy today, I mourn for David. He was and always will be a father to me. I was so impressed when I saw him on Facebook, all proud in family photos. I cannot believe he is gone. I am not trying to understand the pain my sister, his children and his wife must be feeling now. I don’t know how they are going to explain this loss to the grandkids. I can’t even understand it myself.

My kids just came in and noticed that I am crying. They are upset, because I won’t share with them. I told them that I am ok, that I am blogging and feeling emotional. Since I need them to sleep, I promised to tell them in the morning. The night should give me time to process so that I can explain this to them in the morning. I don’t know how I will express it with strength and clarity, but I will. That is what a parent does.

Today a wife lost her husband. Today my sister lost her father. Today, seven children lost their father. Today a handful of grands lost their Papa D.

Today I go to bed with the sharp knowledge that I am blessed to still have my mother and my father, but with the incredible realization that I lost a parent.

Rest in peace David Dangerfield.
You are loved.
You are missed.
Thank you for everything.