Does it never end around here?

I was anxious to come back to my blogs and get into the blogging world again, and for a day everything was going okay.  Then hell broke loose again.

It started yesterday when the Kitty Princess said she didn't feel good and didn't want to go to school.  Her tonsils are horribly swollen and red which means another bout with strep, which she seems to get once a year like clockwork.  A trip to the doctor was practically useless though.  Her strep came back negative which the doctor said may or may not be right, but didn't want to give her antibiotics unless she knew it was more than just a viral infection.  The doctor who has never seen my kid before and thinks she knows her better than I do.  Yesterday was the start, she wasn't running a fever or anything, just had a really sore throat which is how it always starts.

By the time we were back home and I'd fixed her some soup for dinner she was flushed and starting to run a low grade temp, and feeling worse.

We stopped by the bank so she could deposit some money in her savings account and she was texting like crazy.  I said something about it and she said it was "important".  Turns out she was texting her boyfriend's best friend who confirmed that he's been cheating on her.  For a while.  Confirmed that the whole proposal was a joke.  Confirmed that this guy is an asshole of epic proportions.

We talked about it most of the night, but most of the time I just hung out with her trying to make her feel better.  She hasn't approached him about it yet, isn't sure how to do it since the guy who told her doesn't want to be involved.  She's also talked to a couple of other people who confirmed that it's true.

I'm trying to talk her into breaking it off with him, for more reasons than just the cheating, he's humiliated her enough since there are freaking PICTURES of him and this sixteen year old girl together on Facebook (did I mention he'll be 21 next month?) and everyone seems to have known except my daughter.  Apparently he thinks it's amusing that he can hurt my little girl and get away with it.  Can hurt her and she'll still love him which for some reason she still does.  She actually thought about trying to stay with him, which I can't even fathom, but hopefully it'll be worked out soon.

As badly as I hate him, and as badly as I hate seeing my daughter hurting, it's time for this to be over.  Needless to say, I'll be spending most of my time until this is resolved with her so I won't be around for a bit.  On top of that, I really don't trust him not to do something or try to do something bad to either us or the house or the cats.  He's a horrid person and I don't put anything past him.  I've told our neighbor that she should call the police immediately if she sees anything suspicious and I'm even keeping the cats indoors since he's already threatened to run over them just because he doesn't like them.  So until this is all resolved Mama Kitty is doing what Mama Kitty does best.  Taking care of her Kitty Princess.

Love you guys, and hopefully this will all be over soon.

Gunsitting.

Now that's a concept isn't it?  But I bet you're wondering why I'm writing a post about gunsitting aren't you?  

Well allow me to share.

As most of you know, the hubs and I agreed to drive to Baltimore to help my bestie save money on her trip.  We figured we could stop at the inner harbor there and maybe do a little sightseeing around DC on the way home.  It was a beautiful day, we're in the car just outside of DC when the hubs has a meltdown.  Pretty literally.

After asking for the million and second time what the hell was wrong, he looked at me with a pretty cute puppy dog face and said simply "I forgot to take my gun in the house."

What?  Mhm.  

That's where it was.  Lurking.  

Now if you don't own a gun you'll probably be staring open mouthed at the screen right now.  But allow me to assure you all is well.  The hubs has two guns, one that he carries with a concealed carry permit and another that he restored and has been trying to sell.  His of course resides in a holster so it's pretty difficult to forget, but the other one?

Resting without ammunition in the dashboard of his spiffy magical Taurus that my daughter and I both refer to as Easter Bunny poop.  It's that blue that reminds you of a color the Easter Bunny would poop out and it annoys him so yeah.  Moving on though.....

We start brainstorming.  Here is the conversation.

Me: "So?"

Hubs:  "Maryland doesn't honor concealed permits and DC doesn't allow guns AT ALL."

Me:  "Oh"

Hubs:  "Yeah.  Shit."

Me:  "So can't you put it in the trunk or something?"

Hubs:  "That's concealed, you wanna go to prison?"

Me:  "Why would they take ME to prison, wouldn't they just take you?"

Hubs:  Censored.

Me:  "I'd get you out.  Eventually."

I won't bore you with any more of those particular details, but the conversation went on, and I suggested quite simply that we stop at a State Police Headquarters and ask them what to do.  Which sounded like a lovely idea until I thought about us skipping into a State Police Headquarters telling them we've got a gun in the car and would like to know if they could keep it until we come back through.  I think it was Fredericksburg, and that's when the images of Thelma and Louise started popping into my head.

That however is exactly what we decided to do since the hubs is a responsible gun owner.  Really.  For any law enforcement personnel reading this, HE IS!  I promise.  

So, we locked the car up and skipped into the State Police Headquarters which I might add was located on Hill Street.  I kid you not.  They don't wear blue though, which dashed that little mental video screen.

This is what they do to speeders.

We learned that State Troopers do not gunsit.  Apparently the only way to get a State Trooper to take possession of your weapon is to commit a crime with it.  I managed to not say anything that *I* might find amusing just in the nick of time when I recalled that law enforcement doesn't often share my sense of humor.

I did however ask permission to blog about him.  I'm not sure if he was amused, honored or horrified.  

Trooper Batten with the Fredericksburg State Police on Hill Street was a very nice man.  Not that I'd say anything else about him because honestly, who knows what law enforcement and government officials do in their down time.  I'm not willing to test that theory, but he really was a sweetheart.  He suggested finding a place like a storage facility or somewhere with lockers so we could lock the gun up and return for it on the way home.

First stop.  The bowling alley.  I know, I know, but hey, they have lockers right?  With locks?  So yeah, we looked into it.  Went in, told them we wanted to rent a locker and she pulled out the form and asked about preferences to which we replied none, then proceeded to tell us the rental was for an entire year.  Again I kept my mouth shut instead of asking if she REALLY wanted to have a gun in a locker around the corner for an entire year.  Needless to say with our financial situation a year long rental wasn't in our immediate future, although you might argue it's cheaper than bail.

Back to the car and more brainstorming.  We stopped at a Gold's Gym only to be told that they don't rent lockers, you just have to have your own lock and it's yours.  Well la-di-dah, who carries padlocks around with them?

More driving.  We're already running late and at that time my bestie would be waiting in the train station at Baltimore for a half hour.  Hubs declared he didn't want to stop anymore because he wasn't sure how safe Penn Station would be for her alone, so we wanted to hurry.  A dilemma no?

I looked down at my feet which were comfortably slippered (no not the cow slippers, I'd never sacrifice one of those) but suggested we pick a mile marker, I'd stop to pee supposedly, slip the gun in my slipper and leave it there and we'd pick it up on the way back home.  Made sense to me right?  I mean how many people do YOU see wandering the side of the interstate looking for weapons hidden in slippers?  It made perfect sense to me.  We'd be gone three hours tops so it'd be safe there, make a u-ey on the way home, grab it and head back to the safety of permitted territory.

For SOME reason hubs didn't like that idea.

To make a long story, well not short, but a little bit less long, hubs had a brainstorm which was both legal (I think) and convenient so the drama was laid to rest and we went on our way.  Yes, I'm refusing to tell you about the final outcome since well, we drove through Quantico, so our plans were written out on a sheet of notebook paper since I'm......well......a little paranoid about Marines, military bases and DC, and I'm not real sure what the statute of limitations is on coming up with creative methods for gun storage just outside the nation's capital.

Let's just say it was an interesting trip!

Finally Back!

I'm baaaaaaaaaaaack!

First of all, I would like to thank all the wonderful people who took the time out of their days and away from their own blogs to write for me both here and on my other blog as well.  I've so enjoyed reading your posts and the comments you all got on them. I hope that it was as much fun for you as it was for me, and I'm so very thankful for you all!

Me & Donna - Yes her name's Donna too!

I had a wonderfully lazy week basically sitting around in my pjs watching movies, eating WAY too much and talking a LOT.  Even though we talk online almost every day, it's nice to have been able to have her here and just hang out and spend such lazy days together.  Pretty sure I gained about 20 pounds, so Eschelle?  You've already got a jump on me!  It was worth it though and we're already planning a visit in the summer when it's not too freaking cold to go out and see some of the sights of Richmond, and maybe explore a little further afield.

It's good to be back though, I've missed you guys and now I've got a LOT of catching up to do I know!  Since I didn't get as much sleep last week as I'm used to, it's going to take me a while to catch up on that, and since we woke up this morning to freezing rain, snow and schools closed, sounds like a damn good day to start on that project to me!

So there ya have it, I've got nothing wonderfully exciting to report, no pictures from around the world to showcase our visit, maybe a few funny stories that you'll hear about one of these days, but for now?  I'm exactly 1% caught up here, so I'm going to start the cleaning up process around the house and grab a nap or two while I think on my Thirty Days of Truth post over at Write Now, Write Later.

You guys are the greatest!  Thanks to everyone who helped make my week such a great one by taking over for me here!

Who's that in the mirror? (Guest Post)

Hello all you beautiful people. I am Katie from Love is Everywhere. I was extremely psyched when Donna asked me to do a Guest Post, not just one... but two! I hope that this post makes you smile and perhaps you won't feel alone. Who am I kidding, I'm just hoping that I don't feel alone! :)
 
Oh how wonderful it is to age! ... Who said that?.. Where did that come from?.. Who's that in the mirror?..

Well, I'm only 26 years young and let me tell you how much has changed for me over the last few years. Some days I'll pass bye the mirror, step back, take a double take and sulking I ask.. "Who the heck is that?.. Do I really have bags under my eyes? I could have sworn these jeans fit perfectly last week, but they're wicked tight now... "

Exhibit A: My tiny arms with no muscle and weak legs. I no longer play sports, tennis included which was once my life. So my body aches and I'm out of breath just from running to start the car up in the morning. If only I had a car starter then I could just press a button and not use up the little energy I have that I'll need later on that day to put cream cheese on a bagel.

Exhibit B: My rack. Yes I said rack or should I just say 'the girls'? I'm not sure if it's appropriate, but we're all women here (most of us). I had 3 surgeries to date since I was 19 to remove benign tumors in 'my girls'. Not fun but I feel good about the end result since they were benign. I'm thankful. Minus the droopy 'girls' I'm left with. I thought in your 20s you're supposed to be perky? That's so not true! Wired bras do wonders!

Exhibit C: Hair, hair, hair! Oh I dislike shaving but it's a must. Just recently, I had to buy waxing strips for the hair on my upper lip. Where did that come from? I mean it's light and I'm sure no one can really notice unless they're smelling my perfume, or helping me get something out of my eye, but seriously.. why do we need to wax our lips?

Overall, this is us. It's life, and with life we do get older. There's alot of work to keep that youthful look but it starts inside. I'm going to work really hard to stay 'young'.

Love you all and thanks for being you!
Kate

Kickin' the Sticks (Guest Post)

Guest post of the day is by Bryan, the ever so clever author of both nuclearheadache and The Encyclopedia of Counted Sheep.

These days, when you tell someone that you're going to quit smoking, it's kind of like telling them that you're finally getting around to seeing Pulp Fiction.  They're happy for you and enthusiastic, but somewhere in the back of their mind they're probably thinking, "Well, it's about time."  Over the years, smoking has turned from something that made you look cool to something just slightly less offensive than spitting on a baby.  During my career as a smoker, I've gone from sitting comfortably in someone's living room and having a cigarette to being banished to a cold, dark corner of their garage to getting dirty looks after I come in from standing out in the rain and having a couple of puffs.     

I quit for about two months a couple of years ago.  I wanted a flat screen TV, and I figured that the only way I'd get it was to put the $5 a day I spent on cigarettes aside for this lofty goal.  It gave me something to shoot for.  Well, then I got laid off from my job, and there I was with all this time on my hands and no flat-screen TV to watch in sight.  The money I'd saved up had to be used for boring stuff like groceries.  So my plan fell apart, and I was dying for just one little cigarette.  Well, you know how that goes.  A month later I was right back to my usual half-a-pack a day.  I know, you could point out the flaw in my logic and the fact that I was spending the money on cigarettes that I could no longer afford to set aside, but hey...shut up.  

So here I am, at it again.  As I'm writing this, I've got three cigarettes left in my last pack.  As you're reading this, hopefully I've been three days without taking a drag, that is if I haven't held up the local convenient store by then and cleaned them out of their entire supply of Marlborough Special Blends.  Keep a lookout for any bewildered cashiers on the news.

Strangely enough, Writing was one of the hardest parts about quitting last time.  I couldn't hardly even think about it without wanting a cigarette.  I'm not sure why.  This writing is certainly a fairly neurotic activity, and the ashtray here at my desk fills up far more than it should.  You find yourself stuck on a sentence and you puff your way right through the block.  An effective technique, but it's not the best thing for your heart, lungs, stomach, or teeth.  I'm just going to have to start gnawing on a pencil or rubbing my face on the cat or something.

The other hard part was that nagging thought of never having a cigarette again.  I could get through the hours, and even the days without one, but the idea of never again....it was like watching your childhood friend move away, leaving a trail of smoke and ashes behind them.  Well, okay, it wasn't really like that.  I just wanted you to picture a giant cigarette waving to you from the back window of a car.  So anyway, I'm only making a deal with myself to quit for one month this time.  If I can make it a month, I'll try to see if I can make it another month and so on.  Maybe I can trick my brain a little.  I'm not making any promises to myself or anyone else.  I'm just going to see how it goes.

Aaaaand...now, I'm down to two.

Hey, It's not just you ladies you know....



Well, my wife decided to go behind my back and sign me up to post on her blog while her friend is in town.  She is pretty sneaky, but paybacks?  Oh yeah.  For those who don’t know me, I’m Donna’s husband Kevin and I just so happen to have my very own blog at Awkward Humor.

So, while my wife and her friend play all girlie girlie with makeup and clothes, I’m going to actually do something straight forward for my post.  Since her blog is named Refusing to Grow Old Gracefully, I thought I would touch on that subject – from the side of a man.

If any men happen to be reading this, don’t panic.  I won’t let too many secrets out.  Or at least I will try.  Of course, since this is coming FROM a man, women who read this will probably just ignore it.  Or think I’m crazy.  Or stupid. Or from Mars (and if women think they are actually from Venus, they have another think coming).

Refusing to Grow Old Gracefully is pretty much my wife’s life philosophy.  She denies everything having to do with age, no matter what she writes in her blogs.  You know that Toby Keith song, “as good as I once was”?  That is almost, almost now, my wife’s theme song.  For several years now I have been expecting to hear that playing as we walk along on whatever business we are out and about on.  One line in particular comes to mind where my wife is concerned.  “You’re body says you can’t do this, but your pride says oh yes you can”.  How else can you explain her racing, on skates, a young teenager?  We won’t talk about the resulting crash, or the broken ribs.

I know women have it tough where aging is concerned.  You feel like you’ve lost that youthful glow.  That men don’t look at you and as a result, have their jaws hit the floor.  You feel like your boobs are at your knees, and the wrinkles and gray hair are of satan.  I KNOW this.

But society seems to take it a little easier on men.  When we get gray, we become “distinguished”.  Well, let me tell you, we don’t feel that way, unless you’re Richard Gere.  Or Kenny Rogers.  Men, despite what you think, have our own insecurities when it comes to aging.

Society hints that men’s wrinkles are a sign of experience.  Maybe so, but they also make that hot little number on the beach in a string bikini go “EWWWW PEDOMAN!” when they catch us looking.  Hey, we can’t help but look.  We continue to look until we are in a casket.

Society says that that gray hair makes us distinguished?  Well, that same gray hair makes the younger guys call us old man and can often be heard saying “don’t hurt yourself”, followed by a snicker on the basketball court (which of course, makes us try to act like we can still jump high and end up hurting ourselves).  Distinguished men are what keep Ben Gay and Icy Hot like products on the market.  And Chiropractors in business.

You think your boobs sag?  Well, a part of OUR anatomy sags too.  You just have to hear the yelp of shock when we sit on the toilet and said anatomy part falls into the water.  No more needs to be said about that.

Then there is the hair.  Oh God, the HAIR.  I’m not talking about going bald either, which makes some of us insane.  I’m talking about the sudden growth of hair.. from our ears.  And nose.  It’s like some Martian saw a Chia Pet commercial and decided they wanted one, and planted hair seeds in our ears and nose while we were sleeping.  With a gallon of Miracle Grow.

So yeah, most of us men don’t like to age gracefully either.  Now the part about sports cars being used to pick up young women?  I will neither confirm nor deny.  It’s a long held rumor I know.  But I will tell you this much.  Getting that sports car is also about feeling a thrill that we can obtain without hurting ourselves like we used to get on the basketball court, or baseball field, or whatever.  Unless we wreck the stupid thing.

I will close with one final statement.  We men may be aging, and not be handling it very well, and you women may be aging, and not handling it very well, but if you walk into the bedroom wearing a French maid outfit?  Well, you’re gonna see an aging man act like a kid on Christmas morning.

So the next time you see a “distinguished” gentlemen acting like an idiot, don’t snicker.  At least to loud.  We’re just feeling the same way you are.

suckered you in (Guest Post)

This gorgeous woman asked me to be involved in a guest post for her!  In fact she even gave me full rights to write about whatever it is that I like.  Well I do I have something in store for you!!

I have managed to sucker her into "beating the pudge" this year!  I know she has "no resolutions" but this is more a lifestyle thing anyways right?!  Or even a test of determination, if you will.  Now, I myself have been struggling with my weight for a good portion of my 23 years on this planet that is slowly getting fatter, one Mc.Dick meal at a time.  So this year i decided to put a foot hold in and say: "ENOUGH IS FREAKING ENOUGH?!"  To look that fat girl right square in the eyes and say "LEAVE!"  I am tired of being tired, i'm tired of worrying about what will happen if i don't change how i'm living right now and above all else i'm just tired of carrying the extra Eschelle that i seem to have acquired.  Do you blame me?  I know a lot of you are probably in the same boat, just tired and upset.  It is amazing how the extra weight can actually mess with your motivation to do things such as; going out with friends, dancing, wearing the clothes you like etc..

Aren't you tired of trying to find something that fits?!  Something that looks as nice on you as it does on the manikin even if the the stupid thing has the waist the size of your thigh.  I want to leave the store, not in tears but with a smile on my face cause i found something decent to wear that wasn't pajama pants or yoga pants.  Not that i don't like yoga pants but i think the rule should be that you have to actually do yoga and i don't.  Everytime i put them on i can hear them mocking me saying; "you don't look like you do yoga, you don't think you're fooling people do you??!"  It is amazing how rude a pair of pants can be, sometimes even cruel if you will... those are hte times of course you're lying down to get them done up.

So with that said and with the fact that I know i have suckered this darling girl into my web of weight loss and mutual suffering, i wanted you to join us.  Cheer us on, heck just wallow in our sadness when we fail.

So join me as i turn this:

back into this:

That's right, that's me when i was 18! Just a few months before i got pregnant with my first. 

Appropriate shot right??!! I though you guys would love my ode to the pin-up girl!