Up for Air

*tries to work up a blush* 

*fails miserably*

Nice weather we're having.  How's the kids?  Your mama?  (Hush, Dar-I KNOW how yo' mama is.)

Does everyone have their New Years resolutions all ready to drag out tomorrow?  I must admit, I have not been giving them enough thought what with having my brains addled regularly for three days and all, but I'm working on them.  

I have mixed feelings about the end of 2008.  I know the country has been through hell this last year, but our personal bottom line this year is eversomuch mo' betterer than it was in 2007 that I kind of hate to see it go.  I hate to even wish for more as it feels weird enough to be doing well when everyone else is just trying to keep their heads above water.  This job that the Innocent Bystander finagled?  *shakes head*  I really, honestly never expected it to work out.  I spent the whole first hitch waiting to hear that he'd been kidnapped and wondering if he would actually get paid and praying that if he ever made it home his old company would take him back.  The whole second hitch I still wanted him to keep the lines of communication open with the old company.  Now that the house is paid off and our only outstanding debts are for frivolous things that wouldn't kill us were we to lose them, I only focus on his absence as the normal inconvenience his job is, no matter where it is.  Which is, I rectom, as it should be.  

In any case, we are saying farewell to the old and ushering in the new in the traditional manner. I have the requisite 25 lb. ham roasting for the shindig at the Shingle Mill tonight, and will save the bone for my blackeyed peas and greens for tomorrow.  We have enough beer stocked in the beverage locker that the houseboat has a decided list to the left, and the IB has the stereo going full blast outside so all the neighbors can wonder at his peculiar taste in New Years music. Champagne is chilling HERE this year, since last year it somehow disappeared from the bar cooler before midnight, and I think I am actually going to put on some makeup.  

The Innocent Bystander?  He is outside working on something extremely special.  Once again, my magical blog has caused something to happen that I thought was impossible, and I'm still not sure it is going to work, so I will save that revelation for tomorrow.  If it does, I will believe that ANYTHING is possible in 2009!

Ya'll have a safe and happy celebration tonight!  Please don't drink and drive-I don't want to lose any of you!

Lagniappe: Click here.

Purrrrrrrr

D Day

*looks around excitedly*  I feel like one of those little rat dogs that pee a little when they get all wound up.  Better not be rubbin' MY belly today unless you mean it.  

Did I mention that today is THE DAY?  Fifty five very long days ago, the Innocent Bystander took off for Nigeria, and as of five minutes ago, his plane was about a half inch off the coast of Mauritania, give or take a millimeter.  Delta has a groovy feature-if you go to their website homepage, in the bottom left corner of the screen there is a box marked flight status.  I put in the IB's flight number (57) and I can see in real time where his plane is.  I just want to scootch it closer...faster...harder...*bitch slaps self* Huh?  *weak grin*  Oh.  Heh.

Speaking of scootching (*shakes head* I know-I ain't right).  I forgot to tell ya'll the other day that I did not win PlungerGirl's contest for the Throbbin' Robbin.  This is not a bad thing, as I was saving myself for the IB anyway, and besides-that thing looked DANGEROUS.  Not to mention, I have kind of a mental block against most vibrators.  It started many years ago...

Back when I was a sweet young thang, I bought my first vibrator.  It was the standard, rigid plastic C battery operated number that was available off the shelf at Spencers back in the 70s. Mr. Smiley was loyal and trustworthy.  He got the job done with minimal fuss.  As time went on, though, he became less reliable.  His contacts became worn down, and sometimes he would let me down at THE most inopportune moment.  Or his batteries would slow down and peter out (heh) and leave me whacking him *rolls eyes* against the nightstand in frustration.  After one such exercise in futility, I decided to take the bull by the horns (good God, somebody STOP me!) and make sure I was never at the mercy of batteries again, so I bought myself the deluxe ELECTRIC 'personal massage unit'.  (Funny how things come full circle, eh?)

A few years pass.  I become involved with the ASSHOLE who would become my first husband.  He was a charming fellow with a great sense of humor.  He worked at a local cemetary cutting grass and digging graves, and would come home for lunch every day at noon.  I would have his sandwiches or whatever ready, he would come in, hand me whichever flower he had chosen for me that day...*pauses to give that time to sink in*...and then we would have a little afternoon delight before he went back to work.  It became a routine.

Well, YOU know what happens when things become routine.  Same thing.  Over.  And over. And over.  Especially when your time is limited, although six pokes and a squirt really don't take THAT much time.  Anyway, more times than not, he would get his, and I would get all OHOHOHAHHH and thrash around a bit so as not to damage his precious ego, and he would get dressed and go back to work.  Then I would get to work.

There was only one problem.  The house that we lived in was a converted barn, and it only had one electrical outlet in the main part of the house, and that was in the bedroom.  Well, on this particular day, it was very hot, and while I wanted some 'relief', I did not want to go roll around all by myself in that sweaty bed that we'd just sullied.  The living room was air conditioned, so I decided to 'set myself up' there.  I got out one of those hundred foot long fluorescent orange extension cords and snaked it through the bedroom, through the dining room, and over to the long leather couch in the living room.  I set up pillows and lit a candle and got out my book and got myself all settled.  I found a favorite short 'story' and started myself off on low speed. I was all spread out and at the point where I was no longer concentrating on what I was reading, almost to THAT POINT.  At the precise moment when I was about to cross that threshold, I heard a sharp intake of breath, and my eyes flew open to see the ASSHOLE standing in the doorway of the living room, eyes wide and most definitely comprehending the implications of his sweet young bride nekkid as a jaybird, spread eagled on the living room couch with her back arched, tethered by the vagina to a hundred foot long fluorescent orange electrical leash not thirty minutes after he had supposedly 'taken care of' me.  Talk about ruining a moment. *shakes head*  

Needless to say, I haven't been able to look at a vibrator-OR an extension cord-the same way since.  Yeah, every once in a while, I'll think back fondly to the days of Mr. Smiley, but somehow, I just can't bring myself to go there.  The only appliance I need these days is a spatula.  *wicked evil grin*

Okay.  That took my mind off of things for a few minutes.  Now I have to leave ya'll to your own devices whilst I unravel the cornrows and mow my legs and decide how I'm going to gussie up the pink parts.  Fair warning-I'm SURE my post will be late tomorrow!

The Countdown Begins

*sings at the top of her lungs*  TOOOMORROWWW!  TOOOOMORROWWW!  I'LL BOINK YA!  TOOOMORROWWW!  IT'S ONLY...A DAAAAYYYYY....AHHH.....WAAAAYYYYYY!!!   YOWZA!

How nice.  That got the birdies going better than the Good Morning Jesus song did this morning. They must know Daddy's coming home.  I'm going to give them the benefit of the doubt, anyway, 'cuz otherwise I'm fixing to make me some African Grey gumbo.  Nemo has been a royal pain in my fanny this morning.  I just fixed him a bowl of fresh pellets, a bowl of fresh Special K, and a bowl of fresh carrots, corn on the cob, celery, apple, globe grapes (the only grapes he will eat) and raspberries.  What does he do?  He starts throwing food at me and pulling his dishes off the cage because I neglected to fill up his peanut holder.  Ungrateful little shitfactory.  

Speaking of Africans (like that segue, do ya?) I reminded the Innocent Bystander to wish everyone a happy Kwanzaa before he leaves the Fatherland.  He reported in this morning.  He has been from his boat to Warri to Lagos, through two airports, and says that NO ONE knew what the flock he was talking about.  I could do a whole post on the parallels between the seven principals of Kwanzaa here and in Nigeria, but then I would be walking that racist tightrope again, and I certainly wouldn't want that.  Besides...for the sake of THIS blog, I'm not that deep. *church lady look*  

Well, I rectom I'd better cut this short today.  I went over to the house to get a bottle of non-fartwater so I could make coffee this morning and my neighbor stopped me on my way out. Seems she needs someone to take pictures of bruises she has all over her arms, chest, legs etc. I didn't get the details, but evidently there is trouble in paradise, because when I got back from the house, her boyfriend was back and he's packing all of his stuff up.  I guess she'll be over here soon so I can document her 'evidence'.  Hope he doesn't turn all her gas on like he did last time. I have been watching out of one eye whilst I wrote this, and he just finished getting his boat on the trailer, so it looks like they may mean business, although this isn't the first time this has happened.  

See ya'll tomorrow!  I imagine I will be ON MY GAME so you can expect all kinds of merriment as I ready the girly bits for their final deflowering of the year.  Can you FEEL the excitement?

Lagniappe:

A Very Merry Christmas

Sorry I'm late.  I've been chasing curly bird turds with a high pressure hose this morning-BEFORE I had my coffee!  Touch me.  G'head.

Yesterday was loverly.  The very Innocent Bystander woke me up with the first of many phone calls wishing me a Merry Christmas.  After giving ya'll a heads up, I separated out all of El Juevo's presents and loaded everything up and headed over to the house.  I know I surprised him with at least one of them.  I got him a "real" puppet that he can work with his good hand. He does live broadcasts on www.stickam.com and I checked in on him last night and he was showing his audience the puppet, pointing out his sleazy mustache.  I found out that he named him Dirty Sanchez.  My kinda kid.

After my first non-fartwater shower all week (the pipes at the house froze last week, so it was fartwater or nothing at all) we got ready and headed over to Dar's.  We did our gift exchange, where she surprised me with this little guy:

I collect gnomes, and this is my new favorite.  He is going to be a home gnome, though.  I can't put him outside here-when it floods, gnomes tend to escape.  I guess they swim back to where the river meets the Keebler forest and then make a run for it. ^^shrug^^  I'm taking no chances with my patron Saint of gnomes. *wink*

We left Dar's and headed over to Mom and Daddy's, where we were, for the first time, the last to arrive.  As soon as we got there, I pulled my brother outside to 'splain to him what I had come up with and carried in my bag of presents.  After I greeted everyone and Jeff had come back in the house, we all sat in a circle and passed out presents.  While everyone was busy unwrapping, I slipped out of the house and got El Juevo's old laptop out of the trunk and quietly carried it in and handed it to Claire.  I then handed her an old keyboard I had laying around.  She looked at me with her great big eyes, not comprehending.  I said, "It is yours now. You will have to plug this keyboard in because the keyboard on the laptop doesn't work. It is not perfect, but it IS a laptop."  I then explained that the wireless capability was not working either, and that it had some quirks that she would have to learn to work around, and that she would have to plug it in to power it because the battery would not hold a charge, but she assured me that she was just thankful to have one, period.  She forgot about opening presents for awhile whilst she busied herself hooking up one component to another, creating a spiderweb of wires across the living room rug.  After about fifteen minutes she got everything hooked up and got it booted up.  Then she asked me if it would work if she took it someplace like Starbucks that has free wifi, and again I gently explained that she would have to get some kind of USB wireless adapter or something and would have to take the keyboard and would have to find a plug, etc. At that point, Jeff reminded Claire that we were all opening presents, and said "Oh, and I forgot one.  Claire, would you please go out to the truck and get the box that is in the back seat?"  She got up and ran outside while everyone looked around quizzically.

She returned very slowly carrying a medium sized flat box that she handed to Jeff.  He took it from her and said "I'll make you a deal.  I'll trade you what is in this box for that."  He pointed to her 'laptop' sitting on the floor.  She looked at him, and looked at the mass of wires on the floor and said what is it?  He handed it to her and told her to open it.  Inside was a brand new Acer laptop with all the bells and whistles-webcam, wireless, 3G of RAM.  She looked at him uncomprehendingly and said "It's a new laptop."  He said, "I know.  I will trade you the new one for the one Aunt Jackie just gave you.  That way, I can learn how to use a computer, and you will be able to do all the things on the new one that you were wanting one for."  It was a Christmas miracle if I ever saw one.  I could see him grow ten feet tall in her eyes, and it makes my heart swell to think about it now.  

Another blessing was my brother himself.  It has been a very tough year for him-he is a bricklayer, and because of the economy, he hasn't had much work lately.  He is in his second year of sobriety, and for the first time since he was a teenager, he has lost this dark look that seemed to have become a part of him.  Even after he had been 'saved' and been through rehab umpteen times, it still clung to him like a second skin, but this year, he just has this lightness of spirit that has been missing for so, so long.  We had a wonderful afternoon catching up, watching silly videos on Claire's computer, and talking about weird things like skunks that won't die and how if you buy a coon after it has been scrinched (dressed for cooking) you have to make sure they leave a paw on it to make sure it's not a cat.  GOOD TIMES.

After we had all eaten our Christmas gumbo and oyster stew and ham and homemade bread and a dessert of both vanilla AND chocolate dump cake (I had oyster stew for dessert), it was time to head east.  I had decided well in advance that El Juevo and I would go to a movie on our way home.  "Marley and Me" has been hyped in trailers for months, and it was premiering on Christmas Day.  Well, evidently half of the coast had the same idea, because the theater was packed.  It was the first time I've been to a movie in a long time where I actually had a stranger sitting in a seat next to me.  And if there was ever a movie I did NOT want a stranger next to me?  THIS ONE.  I honestly cannot believe that they would premier this particular movie on Christmas.  I figured a movie that premiered on Christmas would be all happy happy joy joy, but not this Ole Yeller. You could probably hear the sniffling where you are.  By the time we walked out of there, both of us had been snotting and snorting back tears for half an hour, and our faces were so swollen we decided to just go home rather than stopping at the Awful Waffle for Christmas dinner.  (I don't want to infer that it was not a good movie, because it was, I just think it was a poor choice for Christmas, especially if you took small children.)

And then?  When I got home?  I turned on my computer to check email and let everyone know how the day went, and when I logged into Blogger, I discovered that my selfish wish for more followers had been fulfilled!  Since I put that wish into writing, I have gained five, count'em, FIVE new additions to the Beautifulist People I know.  Santa Clause (and ya'll) came through!

So.  The only thing that could have made my Christmas more perfect would have been for the very Innocent Bystander to be here and enjoy me it with me.  How was everyone's else's Christmas?  Did Santy Clause bring you everything you wished for? What did he bring you that you definitely DIDN'T wish for?  What is the weirdest thing you ever got...or gave?  

Lagniappe:

Christmas Kawicky

Just a note because I don't want to be responsible for anyone passing out from holding their breath waiting for my supposed "real post" for today. *snort*  The day is, for the most part, in the can, so I feel safe in saying it was, in many ways, one of my best Christmases ever.  Please don't take offense, but I am selfishly going to take tonight to savor it all by myself, roll it around awhile in my mind like the sugarplum of a day it was, and sleep on it.  I promise to share tomorrow.

Merry Merry Happy Happy

Nope.  Sorry to get your hopes up *snort*(I know, I know...you lose SLEEP waiting for my pearls of wisdom, no?) but this is not an actual post.  I just looked outside and realized that the fog is not lifting.  It is, in fact, descending.  Which means I need to get my ass in gear.

Santa Clause stopped by here sometime last night and left a pile of presents wrapped in purple that I need to go deliver.  I am thinking for the sake of time that I am going to make El Juevo wait to open his stuff until I get to Mom and Daddy's (also because Santa's writing got REALLY TINY as he worked his way through the sixpack I left him and I can't finger out which ones are his), which will be after a quick trip to Dar's.  I am cold blooded like that.  

Point?  Post will be late today.  I'm off to enjoy the day with my real life family and hopefully will have another phone call or two from the Innocent Bystander (we've already had one) who is officially my hero, which you'll hear more about this evening.  I hope you all have a wonderful day full of good friends, food, family and fun-check back mo' laterer for the Santa report.

Don't Bring Me Down

I am so conflicted this morning.

My brother called me at the asscrack of dawn this morning to quiz me on who likes what candywise.  He then informed me that the laptop deal he was counting on for my niece had fallen through, and that she was having a meltdown.

I love this child, but my goodness, she is spoiled rotten.  I am grasping at straws trying to come up with a way for my brother to fulfill his daughter's Christmas wish, but in a way I just want to shake her until her teeth rattle.  She is making him feel like a big ole pile of crap because of something he has no control of.  She puts a great deal of stock in THINGS, and all I can think of is how lucky we are to have two Christmases in a row where her father is clean and sober.  At least I think he is.  I dread the thought that this might be the thing that throws him off that wagon.  I don't think my parents could take it.

I am also conflicted because everyone seems to be keeping track of everything this year.  I am so tired of people worrying about tit for tat.  I am getting so much joy out of actually using my imagination and buying actual presents rather than just giving gift cards this year, and it just chaps my ass when someone says something to the effect of "Don't buy me anything because I can't buy anything for you." or "I only got you..." or "You went over the limit."  It is not a competition, folks.  Let me have my fun!  GIVING makes my Christmas willy hard.

Something else that would give me Christmas wood?  Waking up tomorrow to find that Santa had left me a new follower or two.  Go on...press that little button over there and become one of the Beautifulist People I Know.  You know you want to DO IT.  

Lagniappe:

Procrastinate? Who, Me?

Holy crap on a stick!  Yesterday I was all blase' because there were DAYS until Christmas.  I even *looks around surreptitiously and whispers* took a nap.  What the hell was I thinking?  I don't even know how I managed to, given that I am generally unable to sleep in the daytime.  Truth?  I did not set foot outside of the houseboat yesterday other than to go to the end of my gangway to feed the ducks.  I got El Juevo to feed the cats and made him fend for himself foodwise, and I spent the whole day with the birds talking about boogers and practicing our synchronized flapping.  I also spent a fair amount of time on the internet doing research for this blog.  *snort*  Kinda funny how one thing leads to another.  Watch just one foot worship video on YouTube and you'll see what I mean.  The recommendations they send you!  *shakes head* Just what kind of kinky freak do they think I am?

*gives you the stinkeye*  Hey!  Who are you to judge?  You came here.  (Heh.  Yeah, I know.  I said it.)  

Anyway, the upshot is that I get to go brave the crowds once again.  I have one or two last minute gifts to pick up in addition to all of my carrot cake ingredients.  I also have to convince El Juevo to make his annual last minute pilgrimage to Walgreens (where he does ALL of his Christmas shopping) a day early, as I am going to be up to my eyeballs in chit tomorrow, and still have to finger out how to fit in a trip to Mobile to pick up my order from Fresh Market. Not to mention the turkey I have to stuff and roast and have at my sister-in-law's by dinnertime.  Ahh, the JOYS of the holidays!

Lagniappe:

B Freakin' R R R

What a difference a day makes.  I had the air conditioners running yesterday, and today the damn space heaters can't keep up.  This houseboat is drafty and has no insulation whatsoever.  I wish there was some way to shrink wrap it.  

*head thumps self*  There I go, wasting another wish!  The Innocent Bystander had a mate once who used to get onto him every time he said he wished something on the grounds that "What if you are only allotted a certain number of wishes and you just wasted one of them on that."  Now every time I start to wish something, I stop and think about whether or not it is wishworthy. Right now, about the only things that qualify as wishworthy would be the IB coming home, or me winning this contest.  (Be sure to click on the "product" and check out the LIFE SIZED VIEW!)  I only want to win because I think it would make a great conversation piece. (Heh.  Don't make me say it.) Frankly, that thing scares the chit outta me!  (Which is actually a whole 'nuther blog post.  Promise.)

Sure, I am wishing the Unit Innocent Bystander was here for the obvious reasons, but he takes care of a lot more things around here besides me.  In addition to his studly duties, he also HMFIC (surely I don't have to translate THAT) of:

Changing lightbulbs.  It has gotten progressively darker both here and at the house since election day.  I am not exactly sure why, but from the day we started dating, I quit changing lightbulbs.  Maybe because he is just so naturally closer to them than I am.  ^shrug^  I also convince myself that this is one of those wee ways I am helping the environment by using less electricity.  Aren't I noble?

Foot warming.  I was acutely aware when I woke up this morning to a 30 degree bedroom that I was ALONE in bed.  No matter where I put my tootsies, I encountered cold lonely sheets.  I miss having someone to snuggle with, especially when it's this cold.  And I DO reciprocate, so it is not like this is a purely selfish wish.  Really.

Carrying stuff.  Yes, I imagine it is sexist of me, but I like the guy to carry the heavy shit, and great googlymoogly, do we go through some heavy stuff.  Namely WATER.  Because of the fartwater situation, I go through several gallons of bottled water a day between the birds, coffee and cooking, not to mention the amount I drink.  He stocks me up before he leaves, but there is a limit to how stocked we can get, as this place barely has room for my shoes, much less pallets of water, and I am tired of toting it in a gallon at a time.  (Notice I did not complain about toting in BEER.)

Oooky stuff.  Part of the fine print in the marriage contract was that I am allowed to wipe anything on him at any time, and boy, do I manage to get stuff on me that needs wiping.  Yes, I almost always have a clean handkerchief on me at all times, but if I used that, it wouldn't be clean now, would it?  It is very convenient to merely turn toward him and grab his shirt when the birds lovingly crap on me or lovingly gak me up something.

The Good Morning Jesus song. It is supposed to be a dignified song of praise and worship, but lets face it.  I try, but I have no sense of rhythm.  I sing, and stomp around and clap, but if their lessons remain my responsibility, I'm going to have a bunch of birds flapping around like Steve Martin in The Jerk.  

I could go on, but I would only succeed in depressing myself, and despite the cold, it is a beautiful day out and I'm going to enjoy it.  I need to focus on things I can do, rather than things I can't.  And I need to focus on them before the sun goes down, cuz this last bulb is flickering!

Lagniappe:

Drama Free Post

As soon as I hit publish yesterday, a houseboat came around the bend in the river, but it kept on going. So far, no new neighbor. From what I understand, there is a houseboat that will have to be moved in order for the eighty footer to fit next to us, and the owner of that boat has been hard to locate.  If I was guessing, I would say they are HIDING, because I am sure they don't want to have to go through the process of moving, especially to move all of three or four hundred feet.  Just moving standoffs is a major pain in the ass, not to mention having to deal with the power company and the mechanics of the actual move itself.  In any case, there was no drama.

There was however, a wonderful surprise when I went to the house later to check the mail. When I pulled into the driveway, FIVE cats came running to greet me instead of the usual four. Back in September when we had a rash of floods from tropical systems, I had been flooded in here at the houseboat for a few days and my neighbor had been feeding the feral/stray cats that I have been supporting since we bought the house.  When I was finally able to get back to the house, Big Gray had gone missing, and he hadn't been seen since.  He has lost some weight and looks a little worse for the wear, but he is alive!  I feel vindicated, because I know El Juevo thought I was full of shit when I told him the cat was missing.  Our neighbor's cat had been hit by a car, and I know he thought Big Gray had been killed too, and that I was keeping it from him to keep him from grieving.  When I told him the cat was back, he looked at me like I'd told him little green men were at the door.  He jumped up and ran out onto the porch and I swear his knees buckled when he saw him.  Lazarus has risen, ya'll!

When I got back to the houseboat, I decided that I was going to follow up on my earlier urge (not THAT one) (but now that I'm thinking about it, if I DID fulfill that urge I'd prolly be able to write more clearly) (but you coulda prolly gone all day without knowing that, eh?) and take the boat up the river to commune with Mother Nature.  Which I did...  

...if by Mother Nature, you mean truckers.  I went up the river and sat under the interstate overpass and collected honks.  I am so easily entertained.  Did you know that eastbound truckers are 75% more likely to honk you than westbound truckers are?  Doesn't matter how I park the boat, for some reason, eastbound truckers are MUCH more generous with the honks. Just sayin'.

Today's lagniappe is just a short (unretouched) note from the Innocent Bystander that I had in my inbox when I got back from my boatride:

I have 4  MO-PO 's        mobile police   that are on here at Night guarding the me and the boat now that we are back at the dock.

i asked em' if they would be here Christmas night , and they said

  "YES We will Drink till dark."

 

 

          And then come here

 

          With Machine Guns

               

Send lawyers, guns and money

I just have a feeler that it is going to be one of those days.

As I was puttering around this morning, I noticed that there were patches of blue in the sky for the first time in a week or so, so I decided that today would be an outside day.  I had big intentions of taking a boat ride up the river and getting back to nature, but evidently nature has other plans.  In the last hour it has clouded back up and gotten gloomy again, and the air is beginning to have a damp feel to it.  I still may get a wild hair up my arse.  Depends on how things play out around here.

The first couple of years that I lived out here, there was kind of a cycle.  During the summers, the place just sort of sang with activity-kids splashing and playing in the river, boat motors, three or four country music stations vying for supremacy, and sun and alcohol soaked mothers screeching at the top of their lungs for their children to "Stop hitting him" and "Dammit, I said get out of that water and come up here and EAT" and "I TOLD you to stop hitting him" and "HOW MANY FUCKING TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU TO STOP HITTING HIM!?!"  The winters were different though.  For the most part, I was the only one out here.  If I heard anything, it was the sound of birds on their way to someplace warm, or wind whistling up from under the houseboat through the cracks in the floorboards.  Houseboats were camps to most people around here, not homes.  If they came out at all during the winter, it was usually just older men bent on fishing.  Nice and quiet and peaceful.

I guess it is a sign of the times that that has all changed.  This year, every single houseboat on this side of the Shingle Mill is occupied.  I wish I could say their owners had all realized what a winter paradise this river actually is and had decided to ride it out, but sadly, I can't.  It seems that almost all of them have been rented out, some with different tenants every week or so. YAY.  Not just renters, but TRANSIENT renters!  The words "It's the economy, stupid" keep running through my brain.  

Most of these new neighbors are PARTY PEOPLE.  And today, my friends, is Turkey Shoot day. So far, we have party people, guns and beer (the beer is a given-where there are party people, there is beer).  Now, add to that that I just found out that there will probably be a new 80' long houseboat (new to the 'hood, not a 'new' houseboat) being moved in today RIGHT NEXT TO MINE.  Do you get the picture?  Do you understand how many EXPERT ENGINEERS under the influence of alcohol and armed with guns are going to be guiding this monstrosity in?  I'm torn. I don't know if I want to stay and be a witness, or if I want to get the hell out of Dodge and hope my home is still here when I get back.  And I have to wonder what is going to be parked next to me when I return if I do go.  The Innocent Bystander is going to jump up and down and shit popcorn if he comes home to something like this:

Lagniappe:

Seasonal Affective Disorder

Nemo keeps asking me, "What are you doing?" 

Like he doesn't know what I'm doing.  I'm cleaning up your POOP, numbnuts.  I am scraping it off the bars of your cage.  I am sucking up your feathers.  I am 'gimme that beak'ing you.  I am scrubbing grape peels and raspberry carcasses off the walls and windows and washer.

Feathers, by the way?  *shakes head*  They suck.  You think of feathers and the image of a single feather comes to mind, drifting lazily in a shaft of sunlight.  What you don't think about are the layers and layers of them that exist under the top 'classic' feather layers.  Each layer gets progressively smaller-I think some of them are even microscopic.  And every time we do the Good Morning Jesus song and they all start to flapping, I am stomping and clapping in a virtual cloud.  It doesn't matter how much I sweep and vacuum and mop-I could have Dirt Devils permanently attached  to the ends of my arms like some sort of weird Edward Sissorhands (is that an oxymoron, or what?) and I still wouldn't be able to keep up with them.  They sift into every little corner and crevice only to come flying out the next time someone flaps.  They are driving me INSANE.

I just feel BLAH.  I'm thinking it is a combination of the weather, which has been drizzly and overcast for days, and the landscape around here, which looks like something out of a gothic movie with all the spindly barren trees dripping with spanish moss.  Variations on a theme, and the theme is GRAY.  I guess the only sensible thing to do would be to get out of the houseboat. I need to go light a fire under El Juevo's arse because I'm sure he is still where I left him yesterday, on the couch in his underwear with his laptop on one side of him and a remote on the other.  I think we both need some exercise, and I know just the mall to get it in. (Heh.  I said get it.)  Am I getting too predictable?

Lagniappe:

Directions: 1. Peel off adhesive and stick Subtle Butt onto the inside of your underwear or pants, exactly where you think it goes.
2. Go for it, Let'er rip, Have at it, Cut loose, Break wind, Gas it up
3. When you're done wearing Subtle Butt, remove and discard. If any adhesive traces remain, use a damp cloth for removal.

Tips for Success:

1. You want all the gas to pass through Subtle Butt. So do what you need to do to ensure none sneaks around the edges.
2. Subtle Butt can be applied to thongs by wrapping and securing it around the back.

The Hokey Pokey

Today is the day! Can you feel the excitement?  Don't you feel special?  One hundred posts-who'da thunk it?!?  I'm sure the Innocent Bystander is surprised, given that he's witnessed more than one of my fancies abandoned once the new car smell wore off.  I guess the heady aroma of burning brain dust is what keeps me coming back.

From what I've been able to gather from the hundreds of blogs I read and bloggers I googlestalk, I am required by the Blogsville bylaws to do  One Hundred Things about Me as my hundredth post, so here goes:

1. I collect cobalt glass, but because I'm too lazy to dust, it sits wrapped up in Rubbermaid boxes in my shed.

2. I can think of a million things about me until I sit down to write about them, then I can only think of one.

3. I have a bird who, if I ignore his "GOOD MORNINGS" long enough, will throw his food at me to get my attention.

4. Anything past adding, subtracting, multiplying or dividing is beyond me.

5. Adding, subtracting, multiplying and dividing are beyond me if me has haddum beer.

6. I have no less than three full bags of garbage sitting on my porch waiting for me to tote them up to the dumpster.  I think of them as my collection.  If I took pictures of them, I could call them a commentary on post modern society and I'd prolly be the next Ansel Adams.

7. I will listen to the same CD over and over and over and over. And over.  Get it?

8. Sometimes I just want to scream.

9. Sometimes I DO scream.  Freaks my neighbors out.

10. Sometimes I do stuff like that JUST to freak my neighbors out.

11. I am, as the Innocent Bystander says, a dyke magnet.

12. There is prolly a good reason for number 11.

13. He has tasked me, if he should pass on before I do, with finding a wealthy lesbian to support me in the style to which I've become accustomed.  This way he can occasionally look down and get a cheap thrill.

14. He, on the other hand, is to find a nice Walmart greeter.  This way he can get her employee discount.

15. I mopped my floor this morning BEFORE I HAD COFFEE.

16. Nemo promptly shit on my clean floor, then wanted a shower.  Why do I bother?

17. I mopped the floor AGAIN.

18. I have discovered that if I can't have Starbucks Extra Bold French Roast, that some Cafe Du Monde or Community coffee with chicory is an acceptable substitute.  OCCASIONALLY.

19. I don't 'do' knickknacks.  I used to, but refer to number 1.

20. I have less time to get stuff done now that I am 'retired' than I did when I was working. What's up with that?

21. I want a wee little doggy.

22. It is stoopid and selfish of me to want a wee little doggy when I want to travel at the drop of a hat.  

23. I know that I will not be getting a wee little doggy, but that doesn't keep me from having puppy fantasies.

24. I have...KITTY fantasies too. *wicked evil grin*

25. I have a rich and satisfying fantasy life.

26. I would give up that fantasy life right now if the Unit Innocent Bystander could be here to boink my brains out.

27. It has been 45 days since said brains were boinked out.  Hence my current fascination with all things tubular.

28. I firmly (heh.  I said firmly.) believe that anything over 15 days renders the boinkedless one revirginated status.

29. I have been a virgin too many times to count.

30. There is a lot to be said for being deflowered.

31. I would like to say one of those things now.

32. Sadly, I can't.

33. But!  I will howl it from the rooftops on the 28th!

34. I am craving oysters.

35. Typing those words sent a shiver up my spine even though I love them.

36. I got a long, sensual kiss on the lips yesterday.

37. It was from a three year old boy.  That child has been watching someone!

38. I am thinking about adopting an ox.

39. Or a 'small boy' from Africa.

40. I would love to see the faces in the Shingle Mill if we brought Small Boy home to the river.

41. I really don't want a cap popped in my ass.

42. But it would make a good story.

43. I had a snack last night of goat cheese, quince paste and crackers.

44. Fresh market is slowly edging out L.Y. Buffet as my own personal mecca.

45. Oysters rockefeller would be good right now.

46. Or oyster stew.

47. Or grilled oysters.

48. Or fried, but only if they are little ones and not fried too hard. (heh.  Too hard.  AS IF)

49. Instead, I will prolly eat a bowl of cereal because it's the easiest thing to fix.

50. I wish I had a sense of style.

51. I'm glad that since I don't, I have friends who do!

52. I'm glad they don't hold it against me that I have no taste.

53. I'm also glad that they don't take that as a comment on themselves.

54. I don't have a celebrity fantasy boyfriend.

55. I fantasize about my husband.

56. A LOT.

57. Sometimes I fantasize that he looks like George Cloony or Brad Pitt.

58. I'm sure he sometimes fantasizes that I look like Boobielicious.

59. I don't have a problem with that.

60. Boobielicious and George Cloony are going to be BRINGING DOWN THE HOUSE in TEN DAYS.

61. I have been ordered to not show up at the airport the way I did last time he came home.

62. His exact words were "I am not going to be in the mood for any silliness after 14 hours on a plane.

63. Poor baby.

64. I got some silliness for him.

65. If I'm lucky, I will have a new SEX TOY to 'show' him.  PlungerGirl is having a contest, and I am DETERMINED to win!  

66. Ya'll are really going to muck up my chances of winning if you enter, so you didn't hear it here.

67. But she is myne bloggy hero, so I have to mention it.

68. She gave me my first real break as a blogger by linking to my post about the last airport pickup.

69. So she gets the coveted number on the list.  Me love you long time, PlungerGirl.

70. I lost track of what I was doing whilst contemplating the last number.

71. I have a short attention span, though, so I'm over it.

72. Pot is good for something, eh?

73. I went to bed last night with the heater going in the living room for the birds and the air conditioning on in the bedroom for me.  Gotta love Mississippi weather.

74. I miss my bitches.

75. I think it is time for a Margarita night.

76. Without the margaritas for me, as I'm a strictly Busch Light in a bottle kinda girl.

77. Liquor makes the me leak out of me. 

78. I have no sense of rhythm, but I love to dance.  By myself.  Just me and the birds.  

79. The Good Morning Jesus song is good for this as it involves much clapping and stomping around and flapping of wings.

80. I would like to learn how to do one of those Electric Slide kind of line dances.

81. I'm too embarrassed to try.

82. As big an exhibitionist as I may seem, I'm rather shy in person.

83. I sold my wetlands property in Vancleave in ten days.

84. I'm sure someone will get the significance of those two statements back to back.

85. Sometimes I crack me up.

86. Especially when I think I'm being subtle.

87. I really did go to college when I was 16.  The honors program, even.

88. Look how far that got me.

89. *laughs hysterically* *tries to stop* *looks around for something sobering* *thinks "starving puppies, chickens with no beaks, catch and release, vaginal discharge, rectal bleeding"* 

90. I think sometimes a mental bitchslap is more effective than a physical one.

91. Sometimes I think that professor was right when he called me a non-entity.

92. Then I come here and read a comment or two and feel mo' betterer.

93. Did I mention FORTY. FIVE. DAYS.

94. Here's a real 'gimme'.  I once dated a guy for several months right before the holidays.  For Christmas, he bought us matching bathrobes.  In the pocket of mine was a package of condoms. He figured THAT was why I hadn't slept with him.  The jig was up then.  We never went out again.

95. If I can't get it up, I just can't get it up. ^^shrug^^

96. I guess you could characterize me as one of those "you get what you get" kind of girls.

97. Probably why the Innocent Bystander calls me "Noodle".

98. Probably why one of my favorite pet names for him is "Scrote"

99. I have really big plans for what I'm going to get done today.

100. If half of them get done, it will be a miracle.  But hey!  Miracles happen.  I did manage to come up with ONE HUNDRED THINGS!

*smooches*

Lagniappe:

To there and back again

Just a quick note to document the day as I need to get to bed early and get lots of rest. Tomorrow will be my 100th post, so I will need plenty of time to do the traditional 100th blog jig for ya'll.

I got up at the buttcrack of dawn (I actually woke up at 4:30am, 30 minutes before my alarm was set for, although I continued to lay there and wait for it to go off (heh) then hit the snooze alarm every 4 minutes for almost an hour) and was ready to go when Dar got here at 7:15.  Once we got on the interstate, I tried writing on the fly, but it just doesn't work for me.  I was too busy to concentrate, trying to bore holes in the fog with my eyes and "helping" Dar drive by grabbing the dashboard and gasping like someone had hit me with a cattle prod every time she changed lanes or speed.  I did get my laptop out and tried to type, but between my duties (heh) as shotgun and trying to see through the weirdly bright considering the fog glare on my screen I only gave it about ten minutes before I decided to hang it up and just enjoy the day and write later.

We surprised her family, as her niece, *looks pointedly toward Destin* had not read my post ^^arched eyebrows^^ yesterday announcing our intentions to attend the Christmas program. So much for me spoiling the surprise, eh Dar?  We visited for a short while and admired their precious new Yorkie puppy, then headed off for the church/school.

The program was wonderful.  I loved loved loved watching at all those cherubic little faces earnestly singing their hearts out, in some cases at the top of their lungs.  It was wonderful watching Santa arrive on a firetruck, and my heart melted at their sincerity as they told him what they wanted for Christmas.  I especially enjoyed knowing that after they ate their weight in cookies and drank enough lemonade to float a boat and were bouncing off the walls and making their parents wonder if someone had replaced their little angels with SATAN'S SPAWN, I would be safely back at home, tucked in here with my laptop and all of you in Blogsville.  Because much as I love them in the abstract, most of them would drive me bat shit crazy within 24 hours.  Except maybe that middle child.  *shakes head*  He steals my heart every time.

Lagniappe:

Shifting gears

Gah. I woke up this morning to pouring down rain. I wanted so badly to just lay there and listen to it whilst drifting in and out of those wonderful seven minute dreams that only happen on rainy mornings, but the birds can't just take care of themselves, so I dragged my ass out of bed. I haven't been sleeping well because I've been taking Alli again and while my body gets used to it I have to sleep with one eye and the bathroom door open. Again-GAH.

It is not only raining, it is foggy to boot. I can barely see all the way across the river. Given my current state of bitchiness and my impatience with cruise control of late, I think it is best that, if only for today, I put her in neutral.

I have been putting a whole lotta milage on my car and my body, and today is a perfect day to dial it down a notch. I had a rather SCARY moment yesterday when I was channeling Dale Earnhardt coming around the backstretch, and believe me when I say that it is not a good idea to drive quite so aggressively when one is TAKING ALLI, JACKIE YOU STOOPID DERF. Thank goodness for pantiliners!
Tomorrow's post should be interesting. The Gruesome Twosome will be on the way to Destin Florida tomorrow morning around 7:30, or as soon as I'm done with the bird duties (Heh. Duties. Had to get one in. Heh. I said get one in. *snort*) to see Dar's nephew's son in his Christmas play, and I am going to prepare my post on the fly and publish when we reach our destination. No worries-she will be driving. *wink*  As for today, I am turning it into a Flylady day.  I will be shining my sink and sucking up feathers and laundering my clothes in fartwater. I don't want to get caught with my panties down when the Innocent Bystander gets home.  Well, I do, but that is a whole 'nuther post.  I just can't let this shite pile up until the last minute, or something won't get done, and of course that will be the thing he notices.  So today is devoted to house cleaning and cooking for El Juevo and maybe another hockey movie this afternoon. Hope ya'll's day is more exciting than mine!

Lagniappe:

Take that, Monday

I had to take El Juevo to school this morning for his exams, so I was in a rush, and frankly, I just wasn't feeling it.  I think this is the first time in about a month and a half where I didn't wake up with something "on my fingers".  Sorry, but that's how it works for me, folks.  Either it's there or it isn't.  

I think part of it is because of how squirrelly I've been feeling.  When I am not on my game, everyone knows it-I pretty much wear my heart on my sleeve.  What really bothers me the most, though, is that because I had a partial hysterectomy twenty one years ago (MY GOD-THAT IS A WHOLE ADULT AGO!) I never know if I am bitchy because I'm hormonal because I'm supposed to be on my period, bitchy because I'm hormonal because I'm going through menopause, or if I'm just bitchy because I'm a fucking bitch.  Take your pick. 

When I was checking my email before I got on the road, I ran into this article, and decided that I needed some of that there therapy, but I was hesitant to inflict myself on anyone, so I flew solo.  I hit the mall in Biloxi while Egg was in school, then dropped him off at home and ran to the mall in Mobile.  I got a few things accomplished that I couldn't do with Dar with me.  (Well, duh!?!  I had to shop for her sometime!)

I won't say I'm cured, but I'm on the mend.  I had a nice long visit with some shoes that I've been bonding with, and managed to get almost all of the rest of my Christmas shopping done.  I finger I have about one and a half to two more days worth of running around, and then the baking will commence.  If you have any orders, you'd better get them in quick-there are a limited number of carrots in the greater Pascagoula area!

Now I am off for a different kind of therapy.  I am going to have a big girl beverage and catch up on my reader as I have no idea what ya'll have been up to today, and will have a whole new attitude when I get up tomorrow.  Right?

A Dream Come True

Friday night, I went to bed with visions of sugarplums dancing in my head.  I tossed and turned all night, so excited I was unable to sleep.  Just one more night to get through until the day I'd waited for for weeks would be here.  I lay there idly watching the sugarplums and candy canes and reviewed the past year.  Had I been naughty, or nice?  There was a LOT of giggling going on as I reminisced, which was really sad, considering I was in bed and all alone. *pauses, sighing* I guess naughty or nice depends on your perspective.

I woke up and took care of my morning obligations: birds, body, and blog, then I was off to pick up Alex and meet up with Dar at the mall.  I was trembling with anticipation.  Would we be there on time?  Would there be a long wait in line?  Would he find me worthy?

He was only scheduled to be there from nine til eleven, and we did not arrive until close to ten. I parked El Juevo at a convenient table to watch over our nuts and berries and Dar took a picture of him to document the moment:

Note the EMPTY TABLES in the background.  It seems, my friends, that not only were there no lines and no waiting, we were the ONLY ones there!  We had him all to ourselves!  Apparently, I was the only one in the greater Gulf Coast area who had been counting the days until the arrival of...The Santa Cow!

You would think that this is us whispering to the Santa Cow our deepest desires for Christmas, but nosireee, Bob!  We are checking him for TICKS!

Once we had determined that he was bug free, we tried to mount him sit on his lap, but his *thinks a sec* hmmm...what was she?  His helper?  His elfwoman?  His wife? I'm guessing she was his wife, because whoever or whatever she was, she was not happy with this attempt to ride the Santa Cow's leg, but I'm thinking that any human married to a cow has deeper issues to confront than two chubby chicks straddling his beefiness.

Anyway, this one is for YOU, BRAJA!  I can assure you that NO COWS WERE HARMED DURING THE MAKING OF THIS HOLIDAY GREETING!

Sadly, when we were done with our photo session there was nothing left for the Santa Cow to do, so they put him to work while we sampled their fried chicken gonads.  Those bad boys were HOT, but oh so good!  A big thank you to the folks at Chick-fil-A for making it all possible! Happy holidays to you all!

Lagniappe:

Womyn on a Mission

I swear that today is going to be the last day of running from dawn to dark for awhile.  Really. No.  REALLY.

Believe it or not, Dar and I ended up going to Mobile yet again, yesterday.  She was even the one to suggest it!  Way to pour on the comment guilt, ya'll!  Very effective. *nods*  Will have to make a note of that.

Unfortunately, it wasn't really a pleasure trip, and as I was feeling rather ornery, was prolly not overly pleasant for her, either.  I believe she knows now why I use cruise control.  We actually were on a mission to the airport so I could take care of some business for the Innocent Bystander. I'm not totally convinced that the *eyes narrow, trying to think of a diplomatic word* cheesedick fine young gentleman who didn't do a damn thing but stand there and stare at the computer blankly helped me actually did what needed to be done, but we will find out on the 28th.  If I get a desperate call from the IB when he gets to Lagos wanting to know why his ticket is not paid for, I am going to hunt that mofo down and show him what a fatal error really is have to write a letter to his supervisor asking them to reprimand him for telling me that they only needed to SEE my credit card, not actually DO anything with it. 

Anyway, like I said, we are hitting the ground running again today.  What are we up to?  Well, I can't really give you any details as far as the morning goes, but I can say that a mall will be involved.  I can also tell you that I have not promised anyone that I will maintain any set distance from shoe displays, and that there will be some serious coffee drinking before any purpose is accomplished, because it is an ungodly hour to have to leave the house, and the birds and this post (awww...you know ya'll are a priority) leave me no time to sit around with a cuppa this morning.  Jeeze. The way I'm grousing about this, you'd be hard pressed to guess that this was all my idea, eh?

There is only one plan for this afternoon and evening, and that is HOCKEY.  Hockey, hockey, and then more HOCKEY. At 4pm, there is an exhibition game scheduled between former (mostly Seawolves) ECHL players versus former NHL players.  It ought to be an interesting game, as we've not seen most of these players since before Katrina, and one of the members of 'our' team is our current team's head coach.  Hopefully they've not all gone to seed and no one will get hurt.

Directly following that game we have another game against the Gwinnett Gladiators, so we will basically be at the coliseum from 4pm til 10pm.  I am planning on sleeping in tomorrow, then spending the day at the house with El Juevo for a Slapshot marathon whilst I cook and clean and bake him a pie.  I'm sure I'll manage to sneak in a post somewhere along the line.  And it may just answer the mystery of just what I'm up to this morning.  Guess you'll have to come back to see!

Lagniappe:

I can't think, therefore I bleme

I am having a crisis this morning.  I only have enough Coffeemate (Italian Sweet Cream flavor, thank you very much) for ONE cup of coffee this morning.  PLUS, I have to take El Juevo to school this morning, and guess what?  The little turd won't answer his farking phone, so he's probably still asleep, which means he is going to be late, because you know what?  He's TWENTY ONE YEARS OLD and I shouldn't have to get him out of bed like a six year old, dammit.  I will go over there when it's time to leave and if he's not ready, he can damn well go to school with eye boogers for all I care.

Fortunately, so you don't bear the brunt of my disgruntledness, myne Serious Bitch sent me one of those getting to know you emails yesterday that I am going to use to prevent myself from turning this into a kid rant.  I mean, it's not like I'm a mommy blogger. *laughs hysterically*  I'm sorry.  I don't know why I find that funny, but I do.

So, without further ado, here are 41 "odd" things about me:

1. Do you like blue cheese? Eh, I can take it or leave it.

2. Have you ever smoked? I haven't really checked, but I thought I was flaming once or twice!

3. Do you own a gun? Smith and Wesson .38 Special hammerless titanium pistol.  Uh.  Yes?

4. What flavor Kool Aid was your favorite? I love all things cherry.  Heh.

5. Do you get nervous before doctor appointments? Depends on what I'm there for.

6. What do you think of hot dogs?  I love the shape of them.

7. Favorite Christmas movie? The Santa Clause

 8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning? Starbucks Extra Bold French Roast Coffee

9. Can you do push-ups? Depends on if the Innocent Bystander is under me or not.

10. What's your favorite piece of jewelry? I'm weird about jewelry.  I only REALLY like things I don't ever have to take off, like my grandmother's wedding band that I wear on chain around my neck (close to my heart) and my own wedding band.

 11. Favorite hobby? Reading

12. Do you have A.D.D.?  I like cheese.  I am going shopping today.  The geese are screaming to be fed.  Huh?

13. What's one trait you hate about yourself ?  I am a procrastinator.

14. Middle name?  By birth, Marva, but I changed it to my maiden name, Davis, when I married the IB.

15. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment? I'd better hurry.  Thank God Alex called and he's up. Dammit, I need to stop for gas.

 16. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink. Coffee, water, Busch Light in a bottle.

 17. Current worry? What?  Me worry?  What would that accomplish?

18. Currently hate right now?  I don't hate.  Sometimes I dislike things intensely, but hate is too strong an emotion for me.

19. Favorite place to be? In the here and now.

20. How did you (or are you) bringing in the New Year?  *wicked evil grin*  With the Innocent Bystander!!!  Thankee kindly, Santy Claus!

21. Where would you like to go? Anywhere and everywhere, but my dream trip is to Israel

22. Do you own slippers? Yes.

23. What shirt are you wearing? Shirts.  White v-neck tunic t under a red sweater

24. Do you like sleeping on satin sheets? Negatory

25. Can you whistle? Yep. I can even curl my tongue ^^groucho eyebrows^^ and whistle through it.  Only thing is, I can't whistle at home or the birds go INSANE.

26. Favorite color? Cobalt blue

27. Red or white wine? Amber-beer.  Unfortunately, I have an exposed root and wine makes it hurt for days.

28. What songs do you sing in the shower? I don't.  Don't want to get fartwater in my mouth.

29. Favorite Girl's name? Dixie Lynn

30. Favorite Boy's name?  Johnny *bats eyelashes coquettishly*

31. What's in your pocket right now? A clean handkerchief

32. Last thing that made you laugh? *blushing* me

33. Worst injury you ever had?  Rotator cuff surgery

34. Do you love where you live? ABSOLUTELY

35. How many TVs do you have in your house? Two

36. Who is your loudest friend? Again, ME

37. Do you have any pets? 3 parrots, currently 4 stray cats, 13 ducks and 2 geese.

38. Does someone have a crush on you?  ^^shrug^^

39. Your favorite book(s): The Great Santini by Pat Conroy

40. Favorite Sports Team? Mississippi Seawolves (ECHL hockey) and New Orleans Saints

41. What song do you want played at your funeral?  I'm not sure, but the most beautiful song I ever heard at a funeral was sung by an old black woman at my wyfe's sister's funeral and it was called "Workin' on a Building".  I've searched YouTube but can't find a suitable rendition to link, because they've hillbillied it up too much on most of them.  Kentucky Bluegrass makes a mockery of a beautiful song.

Gotta run!  *smooches*

Lagniappe:

Up up and away?

I didn't want to say anything until we had something firm...

*gasps*  Please.  Someone.  STOP ME!

*bitch slaps self, once AGAIN*

Okay.  Mo' betterer now. *clears throat*  What I was trying to say before I was so RUDELY interrupted... *snicker* (see?  I don't NEED anyone to entertain me...I do just FINE by myself.)

*closes eyes and mutters Muladhara Muladhara Muladhara*  Ahem.  

Holy moly.  I am on it today.  I guess I'm just excited.  The Innocent Bystander had me call Delta yesterday and rebook his flight for December 28th, so it looks like he is going to be home before the end of the year.  And, to sweeten the deal, he got a partial payment (note I said partial, but something is MUCH mo' betterer than nuttin' hunny) on his pay!  Of course, he already gave me my hush money for this hitch and near about half of what he was paid will go to Uncle Sam, but seeing some actual numbers in the account sure will make me sleep easier.

Anyway, since he has a semi-firm (ohchit-don't let me start again) (can you tell it's been over a month since I've been laid?) (help me decide how I'm going to wrap up my girlie bits for him this time ^^groucho eyebrows^^) (isn't that just the dorkiest airplane ever? If it had a name, it would be Yeep.) idea of when he's coming home, he decided last night to go ahead and plan our trip.  I have already purchased a loverly pair of hiking boots and have been breaking them in with regular mallwalks, so I have mentally been jumping out of trees and learning to speak monkey and trying to remember if poisonous snakes have triangle heads or diamond (diamond?  did someone say diamond?) *grips self by shoulders and shakes HARD* *blinks* What? *reads back*  Oh.  If poisonous snakes have diamond patterns or triangle heads.  Does it seem like I have ADD today?

So I'm at the house yesterday afternoon trying to get El Juevo ready for the hockey game (we won 2-0!) and the phone rings and it is the Innocent Bystander my ass.  He has been trying to find flights to Costa Rica, and could not find anything that would not have us leaving here at 4 in the morning to make a flight, so he decided to see what kind of deals he could find on flights to other destinations.  Since we have been bandying about a trip in April or May to Europe, he looked up tickets to Amsterdam, and found an absolutely fabulous deal on two first class seats, so his phone call was to run a change in destinations up my flagpole to see if I'd salute it.

What a dilemma.  I have really been looking forward to flying through trees with the greatest of ease and all that rot.  I also felt like the trip to Costa Rica was destined to be-when I was booking his return flight yesterday the operator I talked to was telling me that she is my age, she had a fear of heights, and she recently took the same trip and did the zipline thing and LOVED it.  Also, while I was boning up *rolls eyes* on the country, I discovered these:

Mysterious giant stone balls.  I mean, this is a tough decision.  On the one hand, I can have stone balls.  *laughs hysterically*  On the other, I could tromp through the cold snowy rainy streets of 'de Dam' in my new (waterproof) boots looking at beautiful paintings and loverly sculptures and all manner of people seeing how high they can fly their freak flags.  But we have been to Amsterdam twice already.  And we did have tentative plans to go there and Barcelona and maybe one more place in late spring or early summer.  And what can I say?  I'm greedy.  I want to do both.  I was torn.

Being as I am a 'have passport will travel' kind of girl, I left it up to him.  He said he would do some more research and let me know this morning where we will be going.  When I woke up this morning, I had an email from him and the destination is (insert drumroll here):

He has us booked from January 8-13th and Mom has agreed to birdsit.  Now I have to make some decisions as far as packing goes, because most of my summery clothes have been ruined by fartwater.  I do believe I may have a legitimate reason to shop for ME!

*hollers* "Oh, Daa-aarrr!"

Lagniappe:

A Christmas past

I can't believe I just sat here and drank a WHOLE pot of Starbucks Christmas Blend coffee.  I am freakin' VIBRATING, so if this contains typos...so sorry! ^shrug^ 

I did manage to get Dar over here on the pretense of getting the Christmas lights more securely attached to the roof before the supposedly 60 mile an hour winds that were predicted hit. Thankfully, that prediction did not come to pass.  The whole storm so far has consisted of nothing but a good soaking rain which we sorely needed, so no harm, no foul (but watch it, Mike Reader! Your track record...tsktsktsk. *shakes head*).

She gave me five thousand reasons why we couldn't go to Mobile as we finished lunch, so when we got back in the car and she had her seatbelt on, I just hit the childlocks on the doors and shanghai'd her ass.  I told that I just wanted to check out the mall over there and see what a picture with their Santa cost, and that it would be good exercise for both of us.  I also promised to stay at least ten feet from any shoe display.  This was merely a reconnaissance mission.  

I actually kept my promise.  She had to get a dig in, though.  We were walking through Dillards and she saw the shoe display up ahead and decided to torture me by browsing through them herself (which is a much MUCH less sensual experience, let me tell you!).  Well, I got her good. I noticed a conveniently placed set of mirrors that afforded me wonderful visuals of virtually the entire department.  I made a mental note of a loverly pair of BCBGs I will be revisiting at a later date.  

We finally made our way around the perimeter of the entire mall, and as we were leaving I realized that this mall had NO SANTA.  WTF???  All I can say is that my plan for Saturday had better pan out, or ya'll (in particular Braja)  just aren't getting a personalized Christmas greeting.  Not to mention, I need to whisper a thing or two in the big guy's ear.  A Christmas fantasy, if you get my drift.  ^^groucho eyebrows^^

Heh.  That reminds me of when the kids were little, taking them to see Santa every year.  I always did everything in my power to get the kids whatever they asked Santa for so that they would continue to believe for as long as possible, so we always encouraged them to only ask him for the one thing that they really really wanted.  El Juevo always came up with something unusual but I always seemed to be able to pull it out of my arse at the last minute, despite his rather odd tastes for a little kid.  Until the year he really got into wrestling, that is.

As I've said before, the apple does not fall far from the tree, and some of my obsessive compulsive behaviors have filtered down to Egg.  He started watching every single episode of every wrestling federation he could find.  WWF.  WCW.  UWF.  You name it, he watched it, and he knew every wrestler's statistics, finishing move and story line.  His favorite was always Shawn Michaels, but he had a particular fascination with a tag team, Doink the Clown and his partner, Dink.

When we went to visit Santa that year, I positioned myself close enough that I could hear what the kids asked for.  Ronny was predictable.  He wanted Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Legos.  Nice, easy, normal requests.  Not the Egg.  My little Juevo gets on Santa's lap and gets asked the big question, "What do you want Santa to bring you, little boy?"  My darling son looks at him with big brown eyes shining with confidence in this jolly man who'd fulfilled all of his other Christmas requests and replied, "Amijitame."  Santa looked at me, and I looked at Ronny, who was better at interpreting Alex's slight speech impediment than anyone.  "What did he say?" I asked.  Santa asked Alex the same thing and again he replied, "Amijitame.  Like Doink." Ronny's eyes lit up and he piped up, "A midget of ME...He wants a midget of himself!" I was in shock.  I'm good, but I'm not THAT good!

It all worked out, though.  We got the kids a trampoline, and I took a bunch of Egg's old clothes and stuffed them with other old clothes for weight and sewed them together and made a miniature Alex!  He played with that wrestling dummy 'midget of him' (and slept with it!) for the life of the trampoline.  As he grew older, his requests grew more realistic.  Now that he's grown, Christmas is a matter of clothes and computer equipment and concert tickets.  But every time we are together and see a Santa Claus, my mind immediately sees that little boy and that look of complete faith, and I am transported to the days when Santa was REAL.  Because that, to me, is what Christmas is all about.  Childlike faith in something bigger than ourselves that can make anything happen.  And I'm not afraid to dream big!

Lagniappe:

Like a whirlpool, it never ends

Oy.  

Could that be my post today?  Just "Oy"?  

Dar and I have been running around like two chickens with our heads cut off for the last week or so.  I will spare you that graphic since I've already had to look at one headless chicken this year, but believe me when I say I am making myself dizzy.

We made our trip to Mobile on Saturday.  We started out at the flea market, but it was so cold under the pavilions that we more jogged than walked through.  I did manage to scarf down one ear of roasted corn and made a cool find of a present for El Juevo, but for the most part, we got exercise and nothing else.

Then it was off to the dogtrack, where we had a fantastic lunch and I educated her on the finer points of placing losing bets.  We stayed for the first half of the matinee (8 races) and neither one of us even came close to winning anything.  This despite the fact that my first bet was a quinella on two dogs named Get a Real Job and Lost in Cyberspace.  I would have thought THAT bet would have been a sure thing!  We left there and made a quickie trip to Fresh Market to get another creme brulee place an order for a gift for my mom.  While we were there, Dar saw some cute little tabletop trees she thought would be everso groovy on my deck, but I told her until the forking lights were up on the houseboat there would be no talk of tree.

I told her (note I said told) that we were going back to Mobile on Sunday because we never did make it to the malls over there, and she got a shit eating grin on her face and said "Not until those FORKING lights are up, we're not, MISSY!"  I guess she told ME!  Being the kinda gurrrl who knows how to pick her battles, I groused a little and then conceded.  She insisted there would be NO ECONOMIC STIMULATION WHATSOEVER until those lights were up, so we agreed that she would come over Sunday morning and we would put them up and THEN we would proceed on with our patriotic duty.  

I am so bad.  She called me Sunday morning to see what time she should head over, and as I was busy working on this post, I told her to be here around noon.  When she got here, I said "Gee, I'd love to put the lights up, but we need to eat something first.  I wouldn't want to get faint and fall in the river while I'm hanging lights.  Let's go get lunch at L.Y.  You've never been, and it's been a while since I've been. Pleeeeaase?"  She narrowed her eyes and stared at me for a minute, then said "What the hell?  If it will get your ass moving!"  We headed toward my own personal Mecca, and as we pulled into the parking lot, I noticed the Dollar Store behind it.  I slid my eyes over at her and said very softly "Oh, look!  A Dollar Store!  I've never been in there!"  She looked over and said "Neither have I."  I said "Wanna go after we eat?" not looking at her.  She didn't even think about it.  "Sure," she said. *smirk*  She is so easy.  No commerce my ass.

After we ate and made our little purchases, we came back to the houseboat.  Naturally, I was feeling victorious as I'd gotten one past her, so I obligingly got out the lights and the ladder and we proceeded to scare the living shit out of my neighbors by doing a little ballet on the lattice fencework that runs around the outside of my screened in porch.  Both Dar and I are a wee bit on the vertically challenged side and I daresay that whilst either one of us would prolly wobble but not fall down on dry land, a four inch balance beam with a twenty too foot deep river that is running at 67 degrees as our net is an accident waiting to happen at best.  At some point, the show must have become too dramatic even for this crowd, because Clay finally came over and gave me the old "Miss Jackie, will you PLEASE get down from there before you end up in the river and I gotta jump in after you?"  Chit.  Took him long enough.  *snort*

Anyway, he strung the top string across the porch, then he got my little boat and hung my icicles on the fencework for me, then Dar and I went the rest of the way around the boat with them.  When we had finished and verified that everything was working, she said "Get in the car."  I asked, "Where are we going?" and she replied, "Back to Mobile to Fresh Market to get that tree!"  I tried to talk her into me just getting my little artificial tree out but she was having none of it.  I even took her to Lowes (the ONLY place in town here that has live/formerly live trees) and we looked at their tabletop trees, but she was having none of it, so off we went.  She We picked out a tree and stopped at Walgreens for a string of lights and some wee balls (heh.  I know) to hang on it (nice image, eh?) and headed back here.  I started decorating it while we made plans for Monday night to meet with her parents for dinner, then head to...Go on.  Guess.  I dare you.

Yep.  Mobile.  We made a date to go to Bellingrath Gardens for their Magic Christmas in Lights display.  We had a very nice dinner then walked it all of strolling through acres and acres of beautiful light displays, an historic home, and lovely greenhouses and gardens.  It was a visual and scentual delight, and the company was not half bad, either!

Today, the plan is for her to meet me around lunchtime.  We are going to batten down the hatches, i.e. secure the lights more soundly as we are expecting treacherous weather this evening, then we are FINALLY going to hit the malls in Mobile.  If weather permits, I am hoping she will be here around dark thirty so I can try to get some decent pics of the houseboat from the boat and/or the bar (I won't try to take the big boat out unless I have a chaperone-call me Chicken Little).  Tomorrow I have to take El Juevo to school and run errands until around noon, then I am hoping we can all go over to the Aquarium of the Americas in New Orleans, which we tried to do when we were there last week (how dare they be closed on Mondays!). Who knows what the REST of the week will bring?

Lagniappe: 

Carving in chalk

A little background for those of you who haven't been with me the whole three months I've been blogging.  My husband works as a jackup boat captain on a boat in Nigeria.  The captain who runs the boat when he comes home for his off time lives in Guadalajara, Mexico, and both of them have to obtain Nigerian work visas each time they go home before they can return to work.  This means they have no regular "hitch".  They are supposed to work five weeks on and five weeks off, but so far, the Innocent Bystander has worked: 100 days on, 28 days off, 55 days on, 30 days off, and now he's been gone 35 days and has no real idea of when he'll be home.  Technically, he is supposed to come home on Dec. 12, but we know already that that will not be happening.  His relief captain does have his work visa, but due to the pay issues going on, does not want to return until he sees some cash in his bank account.  The IB and I understand this, and we knew going in that there would be such issues (there always seems to be in this line of work, both inside and outside of the US, so there is no finger pointing here), so for us it is no big deal.  The other captain is not so understanding, so like I said, we have no idea when my own personal stimulator will be home.  

He has been saying he was shooting for Dec. 28th as a new potential date to return, but I did not really realize why he was so determined to come home before the end of the year until this morning.  Keep in mind that we talk, one way or another, every day and he does occasionally read this blog, so he knows how much I rat the roads and don't just play the shrinking violet while he's gone.  

Every year since we bought the houseboat he has managed to be home for New Years, and we have kind of 'hosted' a party at the Shingle Mill.  We cook a big ham every year, I make finger sandwiches (heh-I said finger) and we buy hats and noisemakers and decorate and generally THROW DOWN.  He asked me this morning what I would do if he did not make it home in time for New Years this year.  I had been thinking of trying to keep up the tradition while he was gone, but when he asked me this morning, I realized it just wouldn't be the same without him, so I said I would probably just stay here at the houseboat and be in bed by nine like I usually am.  He sounded relieved and said "That's a relief.  I won't be so frantic to get home then.  Remember last year?  You almost got picked up by an old black man and I was sitting right there at the same table.  Imagine what might happen if I wasn't there?"

HA!  That threw me back!  I had forgotten all about last New Years.  It was actually very scary-we thought this poor guy was going to be lynched or something before the night was over.

The Shingle Mill is, and there is no way to cushion this or pretty it up, a redneck bar.  Now, you can make all the redneck jokes you want, but some things to true rednecks are no laughing matter, and most folks around here do not take kindly to strangers, particularly dark complected ones, invading their bar.  However, they are willing to put blinders on for a little while as long as said strangers are buying rounds for the whole bar.  ON NEW YEARS.

So this gentleman opens the door.  The bar is packed because it is a holiday, and there is free food, but the place falls silent because he does not. fit. in. He stands at the door and makes some kind of announcement about finally getting his FEMA check and that he had been out here in the summer when a family member had drowned and we all seemed like such NICE PEOPLE so he wanted to buy everyone a round with his windfall.  Everyone quietly murmered their thanks, took their free beers, and went back to their conversations, and this guy just kind of stood there at the bar by himself.  He looked around from group to group, but no one would meet his eye, so he loudly announced that he was buying another round for the bar.  Things picked up a little as everyone took their wooden nickles, but everyone at the bar continued to ignore him, so he started making the rounds of all the tables.  Again, everyone thanked him but no one would include him in their conversations, so he moved on.  Until he got to our table.

We were having a little birthday celebration for my neighbor (she's a New Years baby), so we were all spread out at a very large table.  The IB and I were sitting across from each other because although we ARE touchy feely boys and girls, we don't have to be glued to each other every time we walk out the door.  The guy introduced himself as Ike, and we invited him to sit down and join us.  We introduced ourselves and we all started talking.  I know the IB and I talked about a trip to NYC we'd made recently, and we all talked about places we'd traveled to.  He was a wee bit in his cups and started telling us he was crazy and had the papers to prove it, and pulled out this letter and handed it to me, urging me to read it. It was from the health department and was something about his family not being allowed to handle his SSI benefit checks.  I felt bad for him because obviously he couldn't read, and had to be desperate for someone to talk to to be where he was.  We all continued to talk for awhile, and then he aked me "May I touch your hair?"  Honestly, I did not really think it through, because this is something I've been asked all my life, so I said "Sure." He reached over and grabbed a few strands and rubbed them through his fingers, which I had no problem with, but then he leaned over and started rubbing them-nay-caressing them against his cheek.  I drew back and said "What are you doing?"  and he said something to the effect of "Maybe you and I can get together later."  I gave him the stinkeye and said "Are you out of your mind?" (shhh.  I know-he had PAPERS) "I can't believe you would ask me that with my husband sitting right here!"  He jumped up like he had been electrocuted and said "WHAT?  YOUR HUSBAND?"  We all laughed because we knew it had been a misunderstanding but he was really freaked out and kept backing away from the table apologizing, saying he had no idea that we were even together and that he thought that the only reason we would have invited a black man to sit at our table was because I (the only girl at the table not next to her 'date') wanted to 'be' with him.  He said he thought it might be time to move on down the road.  At this point, one of the locals got up and said "Where's that other beer?"  Ike looked around and said "What other beer?"  The guy started to bow up and said "You said you was buying us another beer, WHERE IS THAT BEER?"  At this point, Ike's eyes are rolling around desperately looking for a way out past this guy who was belligerently demanding a beer, and the IB and my neighbor's boyfriend realized what true and present danger this guy was in, so they got up and escorted the guy out and safely to his car apologizing that it wasn't safe for him there, then came back in and bought another round to diffuse the situation.  It kind of put a damper on the evening until the bully left, then we were able to laugh about the fact that I was not even aware that the guy had been coming on to me.

In any case, now that I've assured him that I will be staying home if he's not home for New Years, he doesn't have as big a sense of urgency to get back.  And frankly, if he's not home, I'm looking forward to a nice quiet New Years with a cup of cocoa (okay, so it's with a shot of Bailey's-it's a holiday) and my Kindle with New Years Rockin' Eve on in the background.  I'll be wishing for my New Years kiss from the IB, but there will also be a little piece of me (heh.  I said a little piece) channeling Bernice from the Golden Girls.  

...Beggars would ride

I got up this morning and 'did' the birds, then decided to eat something before I had my coffee. Normally coffee IS the breakfast, but I was stalling whilst I mulled this post over, because it will be a little bit of a departure from the 'normal' trainwreck you come here each morning to crane your neck at.  (Don't worry.  I know this blog is not pretty.  It's just human instinct to want to see what I stepped in today.  No one knows you were here.)

Anyway, I had my half a box bowlful of Lucky Charms (the REAL ones that come in a box, not that generic bagged crap) and am sitting here feeling all magically delicious, so I guess I am just going hit you with this like I was whacking you on the head with my shillelagh.  I have my hand out today, folks.

This carefully constructed town I've come to think of as Blogsville is populated with the most wonderful people.  I've 'met' so many people with so many stories who have graciously invited me into their heads, and I feel close to them, in some ways closer than I do to people I interact with every day in the flesh.  One of those people has a particularly soft place in my heart because her story could so very easily be mine, or yours, and she tells it with such dignity and grace that you would be hard pressed most of the time to know she is suffering.  Her name is Lisa.

You know how you always hear about the Make a Wish foundation, which grants children with life threatening illnesses a 'dying' wish?  Why just kids?  This is MY CHRISTMAS WISH.  Ya'll, I want so badly for all of us here today to put on our tiaras, get out our magic wands, and play fairy godmother for a day.  Lisa's birthday falls three days after Christmas, and she wants to LIVE it up this year.  She has linked her Christmas/Birthday Amazon wish list to this post, and if you have enough to eat this year, and are not fighting for YOUR life, I sure wish you would look it over and see if there isn't some little way you can send her some love from Blogsville.

Most of her desires are simple ones, considering the complexities of her very challenging life, and won't cost you more than you waste on a couple of magazines-in the grand scheme of things, you won't miss it, and it might make a world of difference to her to know we are thinking of her and wishing her well.  I wouldn't ask for myself, but I'm asking you for her. Please be generous.

Lagniappe:

Unapologetic

I was IMing with the Innocent Bystander yesterday because the phone connection sucked. (Vonage, by the way? *shakes head* Don't even THINK about it.)  I was catching him up on what I've been doing lately and what Dar and I have planned for today.  It was his turn to type something, so I waited, watching the little dialogue box.  And waited.  Finally, I saw that he was typing something.  It read "It must be nice to be you."

GAH.  

I felt like a chump.  There he sits in the middle of his river, halfway around the world, the lone grain of salt in a peppermill of a country that is slowly grinding on his last nerve, whilst I flit from mall to restaurant to casino to bar and then rinse and repeat.  All on his dime.  

I could have lost a lot of sleep over this, but he knows that I don't take one minute of this for granted.  And I am a liver

not an exister.  He also knows that when he gets home, the focus will all be on him (and right now, I would give my left nut to be able to do some FOCUSING on him.)  

So I am off to live, folks.  I'm taking Dar to Mobile to see if the malls over there have anything new and different or if the same girls with indeterminate accents will rush us asking "Ma'am? Can I ask you a question?" as they try to grab our hands to buff a fingernail.  I also want to do a little research on Santy Claus-see if he's cheaper in the Big City-memories are supposed to be priceless, right?  Once I have satisfied my shopping jones, we are going to Mobile Greyhound Park to pop her dogtrack cherry, and then we will top it all off with a hockey game.  

It is nice to be me.

Lagniappe:  Click here.

Santa ain't cheap!

On our way to the mall yesterday, I asked Dar to promise me she would 'do something' with me once we got there.  She looked at me and said "Since when do I have a choice in the matter once you get an idea into your head?  Tell me ONE TIME in thirty three years I have gotten my way in ANYTHING?"  I thought about it for a minute and said "Okay.  You and I are going to go get our picture taken with Santy Clause today."  She started to give me some bullshit about not having earrings in and blahblahblah (I quit listening and allowed her to vent 'to the hand') as I parked the car and led her to the little accessory store that had hypoallergenic (Me: Quit making excuses...You are powerless here...You've already admitted defeat so you are just prolonging the inevitable...Just pick some DAMN EARRINGS so I can go sit on an old man's lap and potentially mess with his head) earrings.  Then I realized that since I have dialed up my inner dyke notch and quit carrying a purse I had no storebought lipz with me, and as I have no upper lip of myne own I had to remedy that situation before I could even begin to think about having a picture taken.  I followed my nose into Belks' shoe department but Dar redirected me to the makeup counters before I could really get my shoe groove on.  She is good like that. Prolly because she knows that if she doesn't NIP IT IN THE BUD, I am gone for hours. Anyway, I tried at four different counters to find a lipstick that didn't make me look like Bozo the clown before I found someone willing to take my money.  My good buddies at the Estee Lauder counter (I'm a Cinnabar girl these days) were happy to relieve me of TWENTY THREE dollars so that I could have a plump juicy (oddly grape scented) non-collegen injected pretend upper lip.  TWENTY THREE dollars!  Was I HIGH?  I wish.  At least then I'd have had an excuse.

So I put on the lip and we proceed out to Santy's little Happy Place, where he sits on his Santy throne, and we walk up to get in line.  My eye falls on the sign that says "No cameras" and then drifts over to the sandwich boards set up with the available photography packages available. Folks, I am all about stimulating the economy, and I love me some Santa Claus and I REALLY wanted to tell him what. I. want.  But I am sorry.  One fucking, and I don't say fucking lightly in this case, but ONE FUCKING PICTURE was TWENTY FIVE DOLLARS.  Uh uh.  No way, Jose'. I already had twenty three invested in a lip, I was NOT going to compound this travesty by spending twenty five more bucks on a picture.  Sorry, folks, but your online holiday greetings are going to have to wait a week or so, but I have an even mo' betterer one planned for you, so do not fret.  But I do want to say that Santa done harshed my shopping buzz just a wee bit.

My trip to the casino was pretty uneventful.  I managed to play for about four hours on twenty bucks playing penny slots, but my sister in law was not so lucky.  She forgot to bring a book, so once she was busted she came and watched me play rather than returning to the room for the evening.  Every time she'd come sit by me, I'd start losing, so in my head it was her fault.  Then I started getting claustrophobic and feeling like I was under a microscope

 or like someone sitting at a feast with a hungry homeless person watching me eat, so I gave her ten bucks and told her I was moving because she was bad luck for me.  She managed to play on that for another hour or so, but then ran out again, at which point I cashed out and counted myself lucky to be going home with money left.  If we'd have stayed, we'd have played until we were both broke, so cutting our losses was not a bad thing.

Today is going to be a nice quiet (HA) day at home here with the birdies.  It is nice and cold outside, so I am going to make a pot of potato soup and do laundry and piddle.  Tomorrow Dar and I have really big plans so I need to rest up, and *pointedly* she'd better too.  Remember, only 19 shopping days left til Christmas!

Lagniappe:

By George

I think I got it!

I don't know if it was so much the peanut brittle, or if it was more the act of delivering it to my parents and my brother that did it for me, but I think I turned a little corner yesterday on the old spirit front.  Especially meeting my brother-we were both actually on the same road when I called him and we met in the middle.  It was just a drop and run, but that seems to be when that little spark lit up.  Well, either that moment, or the one about thirty minutes later when I found the PERFECT pair of hiking boots for our trip to Costa Rica.  Either way, I seem to have gotten past my shopping block. 

*bitch slaps self*  Sorry.  I kinda lost it there.  The image of me suffering through this awful *wracks brain* what has it been?  SIX DAY LONG shopping block.  *shakes head*  Sometimes I even tickle myself.

Anyhoo, I managed to knock out pretty much all of the little 'filler' type gifts, and my brother and his wife are now taken care of, so I am whittling it down.  I am fixing to go take (hush-it's a southern thing-I know mo' betterer) my mother in law out to lunch, then Dar and I are going to hit the mall and do some toying with the local economy.  My sister in law and I then have a date to meet up at the Beau Rivage-once again (one month to the day later, now that I look at it) she has been comped a room, and she has invited me to stay with her because she wants to take me out to dinner for my birthday since we haven't seen each other since then.  The Beau has some VERY nice shops, so I can both play and shop at the same time.  What an effecient stimulator I am!

The play last night was amazing.  If you manage to make it out between now and Sunday, you are in for a real treat.  The adaptation they do of A Christmas Carol is very unique in that there is a great deal of audience participation.  All of the actors in this one did a superb job-they each play several different parts, and some of the costumes were just hilarious.  There was a GIANT spirit with tatas to rival those of Boobielicious, a corpse we thought might have an erection, and even a cross dresser (whose laundrywoman was the stuff of genius).  Yes, there was the typical snafu prior to the performance, but I won't even go there because it would take away from the focus here, which is that the play is, was and I'm sure will be well worth a gander.  GO-it's only five bucks for a good two hours worth of entertainment.

Well, I'm off for today.  Post will be late tomorrow because I am not lugging this behemoth laptop with me (the Beau, which is supposed to be THE hotel/casino, DOES NOT PROVIDE FREE INTERNET, the bastards-how farking cheap can you get in this day and age? $12 a day my fat ass.)  Ciao!

Lagniappe:

The Cure?

I think I have established that I am waxing nostalgic this year more than most.  I'm not sure why that is, although it probably has something to do with (very) empty nest syndrome.  The Innocent Bystander is way far away, Number Won Son is back in Dover, (and has to have eye surgery, so he will not be going anywhere sandy through the holidays, praise the Lord and pass the ammunition) and El Juevo is staying with my parents in Gulfport because of school and play rehearsals, which I'll get back to in a moment.  It is just me and the birds here in the houseboat, and the house sits empty.  

Then there is also the fooking economy.  I talked a little bit yesterday about feeling stifled shoppingwise, due to the downturn in my own personal economy, but that was grousing about not being able to shop for myneownself-the IB has enough sense (one of us has to) to have Christmas money put away (as well as bill money-don't start planning our benefit yet).  But for some reason, I still have not been able to get it up (my shopping boner).  I hear the Christmas Muzak and smell the cinnamon wreaths and see all the decorations, but none of it is inspiring me.  Maybe it is economic guilt-I feel bad buying frivolous things when so many people would give their left nuts to be able to spend that money on food or rent.  

So I've been bah humbugging in my head.  I have made plans four times with both the kids and Dar to put up our Christmas decorations outside (we can't really do anything inside because of the birds) and have managed to weasel out of them (in my defense, I can't find most of the damn things, but Dar has offered to loan me some of hers-so much for my defense, eh?) each time.  I've gotten dressed to go shopping then drifted over to the computer and time just disappeared, somehow.  But that is all about to change.

For one thing, El Juevo's play, A Christmas Carol, starts tonight.  Dar and I will be attending the premier performance tonight, which will be presented in dinner theater format.  I am really looking forward to it, as I just can't imagine leaving with the words "God bless us, everyone!" ringing in my ears and NOT having a bit of the Christmas spirit shivering through me.  I hope anyone in the area with a little time on their hands will come check it out at Mississippi Gulf Coast Junior College Jefferson Davis Campus tonight through Sunday.  All evening performances start at eight.  If you are a relatively new member of The Beautiful People, you may want to read a little more about El Juevo here.

The other thing that I feel is SURE to bring on the Christmas spirit needs a little back story if you are not a member of my extended family.  As some of you know, my Daddy was in the Seabees, so we moved around a great deal when I was young.  Both of my parents and their families are from Ohio, so that was home base, but we were seldom there for Christmas.  But no matter where we were, about three weeks before Christmas, a box would arrive in the mail from my paternal grandparents.  In it would be a few gifts (mine were usually beautiful little hand sewn dresses that my Grandma Davis had made and I hated because they were dresses but I wore them because I knew she had worked so hard on them) which were set aside to put under the tree we would soon get now that THE BOX had gotten there, but the real treasure in there, the things that got all of our hearts going and the spirit flowing, were the coffee cans.  There were always four of them.  Three one pound cans and one three pound can.  Mom, Jeff and I each got a one pound can, and Daddy got the three pound, "the lion's share" can.  They would be taped shut with that old stringy packing tape and it would take each of us ten minutes to peel through all the layers until we could pry off the lids, to reveal what to us WAS Christmas.  My Grandpa Davis's homemade peanut brittle, golden and sweet and crispy crunchy peanutty love packed in a tin coffee can, beaten around by the hundreds if not thousands of miles it had traveled to be the pistol shot that officially opened our Christmas season.  

Well, Grandpa has been gone for many years now, and the marble slab he poured his candy on is probably buried in the snow somewhere in Barberton.  But I went out yesterday and bought four boxes of peanut brittle, one each for Mom and Daddy, Jeffery and me.  It won't be the same-no aroma of Folgers, and none of that brittle dust in the bottom of the can mixed with a little coffee grounds that was always the final taste of the year, and certainly none of the love that poofed out when we finally got those lids off.  But I'm hoping that at least for me, it sparks a little of that spirit that I've been struggling to capture.  Wish me luck!

Lagniappe:

Patience, Prudence

What does she want, you ask?  Well, I want you to bear with me, because I do have a point, although I have a feeler that this morning it may take me awhile to get to it, because I am going to try to break this down for you Barney style, as myne wyfe would say.

I have established already that the Innocent Bystander works in what I tongue in cheek refer to as the Fatherland, Nigeria.  His boss owns a large construction company.  Nigeria has a policy that if there is a Nigerian company capable of performing a particular job, that company is always going to be awarded the contract on said job over a foreign based company.  Self preservation-can't argue with that.  His boss, learning this, decided to buy the jackup boat the IB is on and hire it out to major oil companies drilling in their local river to do their offshore construction work.  So. The IB works for the Nigerian company, but that company is working for a major Dutch based oil company whose name rhymes with...well?  Heh.

The IB's boss gets paid by (holy moly I wish I could insert a picture of a conch here just for the IB's pornographic enjoyment-not for the pictographic value) said company.  The IB gets paid by his boss.  Trickle down theory in practice.  Not hard to understand.

Well, folks, I'm beginning to understand this recession thing.  Because the IB has not been paid since BEFORE he came home the last time, which has been approximately nine weeks.  And guess who doesn't get paid when he doesn't?  Hmmm?  I got yer trickle down crap.  And I'm not even visiting the fact that we are not talking about chump change here.

See, it seems that since everyone started tightening their belts and not traveling because of this downturn in the economy, gas prices have plummeted.  At least that is what I'm being told is responsible for the drastic drops-I know here in south Mississippi gas prices have gone from a record high of $4.04 a gallon to a mind boggling $1.60, which I've not seen in at least 7 years. This is not to say that I am completely buying this theory-I am still not convinced that this economy chit isn't artificially manipulated, but just for the sake of argument, I'm going to assume there is some validity to the possibility.  Well, guess who is not all that eager to hurry up and pay the IB's boss because they would like to hold onto what profits they've made this year as long as they can?  Well, hell's bells.  Rhymes with all of them.

The upshot is, my economic stimulating has been mostly mental in this, the holiest of shopping seasons.  And this is not good, my friends.  There are shoes out there (mama will be back, my lovelies) that need a good home.  There are presents to be purchased, roots that will soon need coloring if I'm to remain my son's "wife", and meals that need to be planned.  There are also some very worthy charities that need end of the year donations if they are to continue to provide food and shelter to our not so fortunate neighbors and stray animals.

What I'm saying, folks, is that this year, I can't do it all by myself.  Gas is at a record low.  I want you to get out and drive.  Knock off all this kalaka bullshit-you need elbow room in your car, not people whose hygiene habits you question.  Take the long way to work.  Go for a ride on the weekends. I know-go to a gas station and buy gas cards as gifts this year-you'll definitely get your money's worth for a change.  Let's get these oil prices up and stabilized so that I can continue on my quest to remain unemployed for YOUR enjoyment.  Because really?  I do it all for you.  

*smooches*

heh.  I said do it.

Mini Road Trip

All good things must come to an end, so I had to take the kids back to the airport for their trip home today.  Of course I had to have a chaperone for the way home, so Dar graciously agreed to accompany us once again.

Despite some Godawful traffic, we did manage to get them to the airport in plenty of time to make their flight.  We had decided ahead of time that if the weather was decent and the mood struck that we would hit the Aquarium of the Americas after we dropped the kids off, so we headed back to Canal Street.  I managed to get us there with only one wrong turn which was easily corrected, and for that, if nothing else, I consider the entire day a rousing success.  We parked in the public parking lot that is right around the corner from the Aquarium and walked up to the ticket booth only to find out that they are closed on Mondays.  Dar was sweet about it.  As she said, "At least we were already over here and didn't make a special trip."  True, but I wasn't going all the way to the French Quarter and not going anywhere, so we walked across the boardwalk until we got to Riverwalk Marketplace, which is a half mile long collection of shops and restaurants all under one roof.  It is constructed on the site of the 1984 World's Fair, and is adjacent to the Mississippi River, so it has marvelous views of the river traffic.  We walked up and down the entire mall a couple of times (me zigzagging from one side to another from shoe shop to shoe shop BUT OF COURSE) and ate lunch before heading home.  We did make a short stop in Slidell to check out a Pecan/Praline shop, but it was nothing more than a glorified Cracker Barrel so neither of us was very impressed.  All in all, we got out of both places without either of us doing any economic stimulating other than to the fast food industry, which is nothing short of miraculous.  I mean, someone has got to give me my props here.  They had a farking CLARKS store, for crying out loud (my personal crack), and I did nothing but slobber on them and rub one or two lovingly against my inner thighs cheek and promise them I would be back to visit and perhaps adopt someone/s.  I think I showed remarkable self restraint!