I’ve decided to name the caterpillar, Slinky. Cuz, ya know…

“Everyone loves a slinky… ya gotta get a slinky… slinky SLINKY… GO SLINKY GO!!!!”

And, I think Slinky is fairly unisex too.

Mike says I come up with bad pet names. Pfft.

If one of those chickens ends up being a hen (please, God, PLEASE!!!) then I’m naming her Bitsy. I don’t see how you can have a chicken and not name it Bitsy. I lived for years with NERO (named after Nero Wolfe character). Ok, I totally encouraged that name. Hee hee. But, a girl chicken named Bitsy? OMG! That’s just CUTE!

Mike is still steamed at me for letting Ethan name the dog Alexander Hamilton. He was studying history and had just gotten back from a trip back east with my mom… SHEEESH! Besides, he goes by Zander anyway. I notice Mike doesn’t get ticked when I call Zander, “Zandy.” I think that’s cute… it’s like Andy with a “Z” which makes me think of Funny Farm with Chevy Chase. I love that movie.

There are loads of groups and things around the ‘Net. Loads. And, I certainly don’t want to get into any trouble by naming one specifically… but, I have to say, your website design should sort of match your intention, or mission statement, or something.

For example, if your group is “Giant Hairy Gorilla Men” - your website probably shouldn’t look like my blog template does at this moment.

And, if your group is “Really Wicked Bitches Who Happen To Be Moms” (I totally made that up) - and I go to check it out because you sent me an email online hyping your “brand new look!” and of course, let’s be honest, sometimes one does like to mingle a bit online, I don’t want to show up and find that the “Really Wicked Bitches” are actually posers. Granted, I’m not expecting tattooed, anti-June Cleaver, punk rocking, Amy Winehouse looking, moms… but OMG, I sure didn’t expect to find what I did.

The website has some sort of a DOLL as in DOLLY on it and it’s very cutesy-country and looks a little like a gingerbread house yakked on it. Oh, and it’s NOT a seasonal design either apparently, they meant for their site to look like that.

A better name might be, “And Our Panties Have Ruffles Too!”

While it might look like I am making a sad attempt at a review or something, that is far, far from the reality. I just got this email and then went to the site and to be blunt, I was aghast at what I saw. I dunno, it’s like clicking on a mailer from Pottery Barn and ending up at a website that looks like they should be decorating a rest home.

I never make resolutions. In fact, in the past, I’ve sworn that I never will. Until this year.

This year, I’ve decided to give it a try.

I’m making one… because I figure with ONE… how can you go wrong? There is no big list to remember, no guilt inducing goal that must be met, blah blah. It’s just one little change.

My resolution?

I will exercise at least 20 minutes DAILY.

That’s it. Pretty simple.

I can totally do this.

Starting the day AFTER New Year’s, of course.

I don’t want you to think that I made this resolution carelessly or without really giving it some serious thought. After all, people make big commitments to this sort of thing and were I to just haphazardly make a resolution all willy nilly… why that would just be spitting in the eye of those who really do this sort of thing every year. But, only if they stick to it… or give it a good try… if you are just a serial resolution maker - then suck it.

What was I saying? Oh, riiiiiight, that’s it. So, I thought I’d give you a list of resolutions I considered making but eliminated in my desire to just reduce it to one, do-able, resolution.

1. Lose weight.

Well, freakin’ duh. Everyone does that. I can’t do what everyone else does.

2. Stop swearing.

OMG. I’d have nothing left to say and THEN what would happen?

3. Become a better person who tries to bring about world peace.

Oh, come ON! I don’t know what I was smoking when I wrote THAT down.

4. Set a budget and stick to it.

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAA… Hooo… hahahahaha… ahahaaha.. whooooo, oh boy, that IS a good one.

5. Stop wishing bad things on people who do stupid/mean/evil things to other people.

Pfft. Yeah right.

6. Ignore all stupidity thereby reducing my stress levels.

HA! With all the stupidity out there? Yeah right. Why not just ask me to end a drought with a rain dance… hmmmm?

7. Work on having more patience, love, tolerance, understanding, and compassion for others.

OH for the LOVE of PETE… I’m going down quite the redundant path here.

8. Learn to play an instrument.

Gah… or rather, jam a fork in my eye.

9. Travel more.

Or… I could just stay home.

10. Stop being manipulated into opening the emails that contain pics of Adam’s balls.

Oh come on… we all know if Adam says, “this is REALLY funny” that someone out there (probably me) is going to open the freakin’ email. Like I said, resolutions should be do-able, dammit!

See why I settled on the exercise one? It’s for the good of me the whole, body, mind and soul thing. It’ll be great. Just great…

Bwahahahahaha! Didja miss me yesterday? Probably not, hmmm? I was unavailable for blogging purposes yesterday because I had to actually LEAVE the house to go Christmas shopping. Not only did I have to leave the house, I also had to do about 95% of the shopping IN ONE DAY. Gah!

By the time we got home last night my head was splitting and it felt very much as if I was about to give birth through my left eyeball. I believe a more decent term might be, migraine, which started about the time I had to smile and pretend to be full of Christmas spirit while the 2nd, 5th, 10th, and 15th moron stood in front of my cart staring at a shelf and appearing to become completely catatonic.

Or OH! I love this new tactic, women who slowly walk up the MAIN aisles and then suddenly dash away from their cart and run down an aisle to grab something making you look like the grown-up version of bumper cars as you smash into her cart.

So you get the idea, right? Cool beans.

We got home, I was handed the phone the second I walked through the door, my head was still splitting and I started going through the mail where I found an envelope addressed to ME! Yay me!!! In the envelope were these:

New Snowman Earrings!!!

Are they cute or what? I :heartbeat: them.

And guess who sent them to me? Ok, don’t. I’ll tell you, none other than “Nanna” from “What’s A Nanna” although, you probably know her as Miss Britt’s mom. (I absolutely adore this woman! Seriously! She’s the BOMB!)

Between my wicked Santa socks and my new snowman earrings there is even more reason to:

Bask in my Christmas Glory, Bitches!

Apparently, this phrase of mine was well received. In fact, Chickie says that if she had done Christmas cards this year they would have looked like this:

Oops, it got cut off a bit there. Oh well, go visit Chickie’s blog to see the whole thing in all of its’ Christmas glory!

Ok, folks, you know the words… come on… sing along!

Really? Am I?

I’m not about to brag, but according to my stats, I get hits. Quite a few… a respectable amount. And, yet, no comments. I blame feed readers for this. But, really, why don’t you comment?

Or you?

You?

What about you?

You show up here quite a bit you know… you must find me amusing, disgusting or somewhat interesting. Right?

So comment. Say hello, there is no clique here. All are welcome. Hell, this time of year at least say Merry Christmas.

De-lurk, it won’t kill you… and I don’t bite, unless you ask nicely, of course. :evil:

It’s very funny. The blogosphere is not unlike Junior High. There are cliques and groups of people who know one another. That’s because we’ve been around each other for a while. Unlike some little groups out there, I don’t happen to belong to something exclusive, I’m not sure I belong to anything at all, really. The more the merrier is really my motto.

Except in public… I don’t like public…
restrooms, stores, etc. I shop online… I use my own restroom… and other than what I hope will be an awesome dining experience, I really don’t run about town much.

I drink, but I defy anyone with three children and a desire to maintain their sanity NOT to drink and NOT kill their family in their sleep.

Wow, this is starting to sound like some sort of neurotic resume. I guess what I am saying is that, even though I like to hang out around the house in very funky pajama pants… it doesn’t mean that I am not approachable.

So de-lurk, comment… I might even come visit your blog! Unless I’ve been drinking, then I’ll just call Britt.

For years I have laughed when people whined and complained about holiday stress. Really, I did. I thought they were sad little drama addicts searching for an excuse to complain in an otherwise happy time of the year.

While people screamed about budgets and gift limits, I laughed, not because I had limitless amounts in the bank, but because it seemed very simple, you either had the money or you didn’t. Done. I worked with what I had and either did well or did the very best I could - even in very lean years.

Until this year.

This year, it’s getting to me. Bills, company billing and clients who aren’t paying, and the long list of gifts that have not been purchased. I’m losing it. Do you know how frustrating it can be to be owed more than you owe and yet not be able to pay what you owe because you aren’t being paid what you are owed? (Read that last part slooooowly, I did, a few times.)

I’m doing better than a lot of people, I constantly have to point that out to myself, but I am not doing well enough for me. Therein lies the problem, one of the many. The bills are mounting and the “to buy” list is NOT getting any shorter.

Worse yet, the closer we get to Christmas means the more likely I am to have to LEAVE the house to purchase Christmas gifts. Something I haven’t had to do in several years. And, I just refuse to pay exorbitant amounts for last minute shipping.

Gah.

*breathing*

*humming Carol of the Bells*

*breathing*

*breathing*

Ok… I can do this. I can totally do this. I don’t know what it is… but I’m sure I can manage it.

——————-

Enough of that stuff. I’m mentioned a while ago that I was really getting into beer. I’m currently drinking a Pyramid Hefeweizen Ale. I really like it a lot, actually. Has anyone had this year’s WinterFest from Sam Adams? I’m dying to try it. The Octoberfest was really good this year.

You know I love my chinchilla. And, I mean :heartbeat: my chinchilla (no, Joe, this is NOT a euphemism for ANYTHING other than my beloved pet).

And, yet, I’ve finally come full circle. My sister called me on Saturday to tell me that she had something for me.

This:

I would like to introduce you to Liza Jane. Isn’t she the cutest little thing you’ve ever seen? Truthfully, she is about the size of one of my hands and has the biggest eyes (and ears unfortunately) you’ve ever seen. I her!!

More pics here!

This is just about the best I can do for a post right now. Ethan has passed along the lovely cold he had last week to both Maggie and I. Maggie with a cold is like a dog with a bad crack habit, only most likely, the dog is housebroken.

I kid… Maggie is housebroken. No really, I swear. But, the rest of it is true, unfortunately. As I type this Liza just climbed up my pajama leg because Maggie came running through the room like… well, a monkey on crack. I know, I know, I said dog before, but honestly, monkey is probably more accurate.

So Liza is clinging right about knee height and is apparently trying to blend in with my flannel, Christmas pj pants. I can’t swear, but I think she’s holding her breath too. Poor thing probably thinks she was adopted to be the mascot of a sanitarium or something.

Ethan is listening to some God-awful music and by “God Awful” I mean any music that is not Christmas music. Hey… I held out until AFTER Halloween!!! Mike is in the kitchen and I distinctly heard him sing, “Oh the weather outside is frightful…” to which Ethan said, “You’ve gotten to him too, haven’t you?!?!?!?!?” *insert horrified look*

I’ve now decided I am going to turn Liza into a supreme ninja kitty so she can take out Ethan and his evil bitch cat, Molly.

Here is your horoscope:

You may have a reputation for being aloof, but today you can show people that you’re capable of deeper connections. Try to reach out to someone who should be a little closer, but isn’t yet.

Nope, I like aloof. I like “cold and distant” it keeps people too intimidated to annoy me.

Yesterday I got this one:

Try to stay in one place and focus on the tasks at hand — looking ahead only causes confusion. Don’t bother appealing to authority if things don’t go your way. It all clears up by tomorrow.

Uh… right, have you MET me?

Appealing to authority… BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Nope… I’ll just start calling in b*o*m*b (paranoia peeking through) threats. Screw appealing.

Right, Britt? Kari? Tense?
Trish?
tj?

Hellloooooooooo? Anybody out there?

We are currently having a flash flood warning. My extreme weather notice on my little weather channel doo-hickey on my desktop says that, “Trained weather spotters have noted flash flooding on highway…”

And, I’ve GOT to know what does it take to be a trained weather “spotter.” I mean, seriously, can’t just ANYONE be a “spotter?” We all played “I-Spy” as kids, I would consider that enough training to be a spotter. And, furthermore, given the choice, I think I’d rather be a “meteorologist” than a “trained weather spotter.”

Trained Weather Spotter… that sounds a lot like “Indian Trail Guide” to me. Why not just say that “flash flooding has occurred…” They are The Weather Channel, were they afraid that they were lacking credibility and had to add “Trained Weather Spotters” to their warning?

I saw hail earlier when there was a big thunderstorm. I know it was hail. It was pea-sized chunks of ice falling from the sky, that is hail. I guess that makes me a “Trained Hail Spotter.”

Halloween has taken a turn for the worse and to be perfectly honest I want my boy back.

Oh for the days when Ethan dressed up. He was FUN and in the Halloween spirit. Now, I’m left with two girls and both are driving me batty.

Blech. Screw Halloween right up it’s little Jack O’ Lantern ass.

First we have the almost teenager, Kate.

She still has not forgiven me for the year she wanted to go as a “pretty Princess” and the boys (Ethan and GJ) were going as Knights. Putting a Halloween spin on things I painted them up to look like Ghosts/Corpses. They looked adorable in a very Halloween sort of way. Kate nearly threw a tantrum and to this day bitches at me for it.

I have a picture somewhere of her dressed in her little princess costume and ghostly make up with a decidedly pissed off look on her face. Wish I could find it…

This year she wanted to go as a 50’s teenybopper complete with poodle skirt. Oh yes, this is just soooo original. Know what I went as when I was her age? Madeline Usher… oh yes, the crazy sister of Edgar Allen Poe’s classic “Fall of the House of Usher.”

And yes, there was that ONE year when my mother was still making all the Halloween-related decisions and dressed me up as a Geisha, complete with face make up, my long hair twisted into a painfully authentic style, and a kimono.

Imagine, the mortification my mother, the Sunday school teacher, experienced when she found out what a Geisha really was. Bwahahahaha! Not that Geisha’s are prostitutes, but, it is a wide misconception that this is the case and naturally probably did not look so great for a Sunday school teacher to have dressed her daughter up as such. :evil:

While I have managed to steer Kate away from Poodle Skirt Hell, she is now committed to dressing up as a freakin’ genie… in pink no less. Gah. Pink satin outfit, pink sparkley flip flops, sequins, and pretty make up.

And somewhere the Grim Reaper is groaning in pain.

The younger daughter aka The Demon, the one that one might expect to be all “up in my grill” wanting to be a witch, or a devil, or SOMETHING Halloween-esque, wanted to be one of the following:

Someone shoot me. Now.

As I previously mentioned, we have now managed to get her to somewhat agree to dressing up as Ellen, of Edgar and Ellen.

Or so I thought.

I found the perfect striped, footie pajamas. The perfect wig (which I will have to put into pig tails and add bows, no big deal) and the PERFECT treat bucket. The treat bucket is none other than Edgar and Ellen’s pet, Pet.

The striped pajamas came in and Maggie screamed when she saw them.

I had to try them on her and she sobbed the entire time saying, “I can’t DO this annnnYYYYYMORE!! I can’t TAKE IT… someone HELP ME!!!!”

I brought the treat bucket home… she ran and hid under my desk.

I tried the wig on her… she sobbed hysterically.

And, I have to tell you that this costume could not BE more perfect.

This time, I’m putting my foot down. She’s going to wear this damn costume if it kills her and she’s going to damn well LIKE IT!!!!!