I am a bad Parent

… Or so I have been told. And this time it was not by one of my sons, which is kind of nice.

My ever so gorgeous, wonderful, caring, hardworking (holding down two jobs), college enrolled son called and informed me that his girlfriend of 4 plus years is pregnant. This would be son number two, who is 20… Son number one, has informed me that now that son number two has spawned, he is free of all responsibility of providing me with a grandchild.

Back to son number two who I will refer to as JD… JD and Melissa have been an item since forever it seems. No one was surprised when they moved in together two years ago. And many, myself included, knew it would only be a matter of time before they got married and started a family. They have both discussed and want children.

When I got the call yesterday I screamed out in delight. Now of course it would be easier on them if they were finished with college… And it might have been more appropriate had they actually said their vows BEFORE producing. But, he is his momma’s child and therefore is bound to do things backwards from time to time.

That being said, he is a good kid. Having worked at Safeway for a number of years, he has worked his way up the ladder and will be interviewing for a Manager position next week. He also puts in a number of hours working at a machine shop along with his classroom schedule at ASU. He works hard, sets goals, and strives to better himself. (yeah, I brag a lot)

… I think I did all right in the parenting department, or at least I thought so until a coworker berated me.

It seems I should have chewed his butt. Let him know that I was not happy. Maybe thrown in an explicative or two about his trampy girlfriend to punctuate my point.

But, that would all be lies. I am not mad and his girlfriend is FANTASTIC! I cannot wait for the arrival of the little bundle of joy.

Arrrrrrgh…

(Spoken in my best pirate voice)

I am stuck in some sort of slow motion picture show. I can feel every demented tick of the clock on the wall.

We have submitted a bid for our very own little box made out of ticky tacky…

(Billy Bob version just for Red)

I adore this home almost to the point of being in ‘lust’ with it. Yes, I believe I creamed a tad bit when we walked through the front door.

It will need some gentle prodding (with a hammer and crow bar) to bring it out of the 70’s.

… And as excited as Mr. J is to see the floor to ceiling mirrors in the master bedroom, they must go. Nothing breaks the mood faster than catching my reflection while in the throes of passion and thinking; “Holy shit, I make weird faces during the humpity-hump.”

… And then utilizing the remainder of the ‘ride’ to vogue in front of the mirror.

Nah, the mirrors will be moved to the work-out room.

This is insane! I have no idea if we will get the house, yet I have all 3116 square feet of living space already furnished and decorated in my mind.

Now, if someone would just hit the fast forward button and have the seller accept our bid.

Until then I am working extra hours, submerging myself in challenging projects such as  this special project to keep my brain from frying.

… There’s a green one, and a pink one, and a blue one, and a yellow one… and they’re all made out of ticky tacky and I want MINE!

I’m not really here…

Shhhhh…. I am supposed to be packing. But, I had to share a funny with you before I head out of town.

Mr. J is always riding my ass about my procrastination issues. This little trip is no different. He started almost three weeks ago asking me if I had packed our bags for the lake.

UH NO… Who in the hell packs three weeks before they leave? I don’t even know what I will feel like wearing until 15 minutes before I head out the door.

In order to get him to stop hounding me, I made him a bet. I bet that I would have all the bags packed before I go to bed tonight. If we get up in the morning and we are not ready to go, I will have to give him a blow job each and every day for an entire month.

Well, I am packed… COMPLETELY. I just finished.

Now, I am deciding whether or not to unpack some of the stuff on purpose.

Yeah… Our mini-vacation is long over due.

Ya’ll have a safe 4th of July… I’ll be back on Monday or Tuesday.

HUGS

Fighting the Monkey

I have an addiction. I am not speaking of my love for the chocolates, the internet, the sex, the Chargers,   …   Well, I have several addictions but I was referring to my chemical dependency on caffeine.

 

I have battled the Monkey for years. Earlier this year I was able to stop drinking coffee for a whole three weeks,  proving to myself that I could win. Then I was faced with the unsightly tighter-fitting clothes, as I no longer had the appetite suppressant surging thru my veins.

 

Vanity verses good health will always be a struggle with me, especially when my drug of choice helps me in my fight against weight gain.

 

I am really happy that I don’t have an actual MONKEY on my back: 😀

 

 

Not wanting to cop out on fighting the caffeine issue, I decided to once again peruse the internet for an easy solution and found many, many, many, many, many sites. Here are a few:

 

The ever popular 12 Step Program. For those who are serious about gaining control.

 

8 Tips – Wonderful suggestions with a few less numbers to remember.

 

7 Tools – Again worth checking out and a bonus of even one less step.

 

3 Steps – Now we are getting closer to a program I can manage. Just one, two three and I am on my way.

 

And then this morning I stumbled into a One-Step program… It is called “Scared the Fuck Straight.”

 

I may Never drink another cup of coffee EVER again.

 

I poured my coffee, added a sprinkle of sugar and dumped in a bucket of delicious (not) powdered creamer. … Reached for the spoon to stir, looked down at my cup… and screamed like a little girl being chased by the Texas Chain Saw dude.

 

I have mentioned in the past I am not afraid of spiders, but those disgusting water roaches will have me climbing on my desk. And I had a giant roach bastid (Thanks for the proper pronunciation), about three inches long, thrashing in my coffee cup.

 

Creamer, sugar, coffee, and part of my heart which had ruptured went flying all over the break room. My coffee cup is in shards, partially embedded into the wall. I learned that I can scale a wall with ease when aided by adrenalin. (I also learned that the ‘fight or flight’ hormone, epinephrine begins the breakdown of lipids in fat cells… BONUS!)

 

The guys came running from the shop as my screams left them fearing I was being murdered. The little ass huge ass roach almost gave me a heart attack.

 

 

Now excuse me while I go make a fresh cup of coffee to steady my nerves… Oooops, I suppose I should try the 12 Step program.

A Weekend in the Hood

***Sigh***

Let me try to recap my weekend. Saturday was lovely. Mr. J took me for a drive to Galveston. With the rising prices of gas, this is becoming more and more of a luxury. We don’t often cruise just for the fun of getting away for a few hours. We are much too consumed in tucking away every penny for our move out of the hood.

The  East end of Galveston was congested and the streets were tough to maneuver. We had packed our cooler with drinks and goodies and travelled on thru to the West end of the island. We cruised up and down the streets of Jamaica Beach, Sea Isle, and Bay Harbor… getting out and looking around the homes for sale. No, we are not moving to Galveston as the commute would bankrupt us. But, we had a blast acting as if we were looking for a potential weekend vacation home.

I wonder how it would be to have a vacation home on the Island. A home that could very easily be wiped out each and every hurricane season… and having enough money that you simply rebuilt the home with a shrug… because, after all the beauty of the ocean is worth the price at any cost.

We cruised over the little toll bridge that connects the West end of the island to the land mass East of Freeport and cruised the long way back home again…

Back to the hood.

Back to reality.

Back to the nonstop drug deals, the petty thievery, the street fights, the angry glares, the nervous walkers, the loud stereos, the barking dogs…

Craving a few more minutes of waves crashing and gulls screeching over fish in the bay.

We sat on the back patio and grilled beef for fajitas and sloshed down a pitcher of margaritas and dreamed of a vacation home on the beach.

Sunday Mr J had to go into work for a few hours. I crawled out of bed and cooked him breakfast and crawled back under the covers falling back to sleep. It was sinfully magnificent. About 9am I sheepishly threw the covers off and faced the day.

I caught up the stack of laundry and straightened up the piles of ‘stuff’ that seem to accumulate thru the week. All day long listening to my dogs barking as each doper came to the neighbor’s house for a fix. We try to tell each other that it is ok, as long as the crap does not effect us personally. As long as the crack heads don’t vandalized our cars or try to rob us for drug money… As long as bullets don’t fly in our direction… As long as they don’t come to the our house looking for drugs… As long as no one kills our dogs to keep them quiet… As long as no one hurts US!

But it is tough to sleep thru the barking, not knowing if this time someone is stealing a car stereo, or jacking up a car to steal the tires, or syphoning the gas out of the tank…

One can only take so much before they crack… We are so close to that stage and there is not enough tequila to smooth out the rough edges in our hood.

And then there was Monday… Memorial Day. A day when we should have reflected on the sacrifices of those who gave all for our country. A day when we would normally go to Uncle Joseph’s grave and put a flag and a wreath on his head stone.

But, we spent the day trying to refuel emotionally from the crazies in our lives. It was a good day…

Until the sun went down…

7:30 it all started again, the dogs were going nuts, leaping against the tall wooden fence. They were whipped into a frenzy. And so it began…

Mr. J would go out and talk to the druggy as he was trying to get Mike to come out and sell him some shit. Mr. J would stand there, making small talk, knowing Mike would not come out with him watching. It is almost funny having a drug dealer around who is scared of his own shadow. He puffs his chest out and carries his big 44 Magnum around, trying his best to act tough… But, Mike will run and hide at the first sign of trouble. I can make Mike duck his tail and run… Mr. J makes him piss his pants in fear.

This went on for a couple hours until I had had enough of the show and crawled into bed. Shortly after turning out the bedroom lights and relaxing into an almost sleep state, I am jarred by the familiar glare of helicopter search lights coming thru my window.  Fuck! This is going to be one of those nights.

About once a month or so, they bring out the police helicopters searching for a fool in my hood. The helicopters are shining the spot lights in the trees, bushes, around vehicles and, it appears, in my bedroom in search of the perp.  

This all gets my adrenaline pumping and it will be impossible to drift off to sleep so I wonder back down stairs to play solitaire, hoping  to lull myself back to sleep.  All the while my dogs are going crazy…

As soon as the helicopters move on, Mr. J went back out to see what was going on.

One of our neighbors was being beaten… Severely… In our driveway. He was being beaten to the point where he was no longer holding his hands up to deflect the blows. This man probably deserves a good ass whoopin or two, as he has a bad habit of stealing from the hood. He will break in and take your stove and refrigerator if he thinks you are going to be gone long enough. He has no problem filling his gas tank with the gas from your car… Or taking your screens for his house.

Mr. J stepped in and pulled the man off of George. “Man, it just isn’t worth it,” he told him. He helped George find his glasses and his shoe. I am not sure how he got the shoes beaten off of him…

“George, go home,” Mr J insisted. All the while, Mike and two of his drug buddies were crouched down behind the fence. It was only after Mr. J broke it up that they came out and said they were prepared to help if things got out of hand.

Out of hand? You stupid mutha-fuckas (excuse me… but, I have not slept all night and am a tad bit bitchy this morning) George was being beaten to a pulp and you stayed hidden while Mr. J faced an anger crazed man by himself.

Mike drove off with a man crouched down in the seat beside him… (We wondered what was up with that?)

We went back in the house and shortly after the dogs went off the hook again. At this point we are tired and just want them to shut up. It is almost midnight and we both need to be up by 4:00am.

Mr. J stepped out front, wanting to walk around the house and surprise the fools out there. Looking down the block in the direction of George’s house, we see George laying in front of his house… the same man was again beating him, this time using a can.

I hollered out, “Honey, be careful. The cops are on the way.” The guy dropped the can and took off on foot. At this time George’s wife opened the front door and helped him in. She had been too afraid to open the door. Maybe I am psycho, but I know I would have killed someone who was beating my husband in the head with a can.

We still have no idea why George came back outside after Mr. J helped in the first time. Was he trying to seek revenge? Was he out looking for the shit that had been knocked out of him the first time?

About this time, dumb ass Mike pulled back up. He was alone. Mr J asked him what was going on… Where did he go? Who was the guy in the truck. Mike explained that the guy in the truck was hiding from the police because he had just held up the corner store. (The helicopter in the hood earlier had been searching for him) All thru the first fight, he had been hiding under Mr. J’s truck and the son of a bitch was armed.

Mr J said, “Mike you know you just aided and abetted a criminal fleeing from the police. You are an accessory… You are a dumb ass.”   

Mile was so scared… “Uh No, Mr. J… I had to or he said he was going to shoot me.”

“Mike, I’m not stupid. This is your buddy. You are selling him shit every week. He is not going to shoot you.”

Mr. J came in and we had hot cocoa and tried to lay down for an hour…

We both fear this issue is not settled. George has too much insane pride and will try to kill the guy. The guy will be back to see if he can finish George off this time. The fool hiding from the police will be back to buy more dope and Mike will be out peddling.

Mr J will be out intimidating the fools who drop by and I will be lurking in the shadows with my gun, just in case he needs backup.

As we layed in bed I giggled, “Honey we are living  The Wire. 

He paused for a moment and said, “No Shit!”

***Sigh***

 

Dangerous Affair

Feeling his pulse as I pass by
His silent suggestive whisper
Pulling me down the path of destruction.

Reckless in my desire
To feel his thrust
I succumb yet again.

Tracing every curve, clinging
Letting his power pull me deeper, faster
Complete abandonment of reason.

Nerves tingling
Heart racing
Alive!

Mr. J knows that I cheat on him… He hates me for what I do. But, he understands that he cannot stop me without killing a part of me. I understand his fear of losing me. I try to refrain. I really do.

But, there is something surreal about opening up at 140-150 miles per hour, the pull of a corner at 85-90. The power, the thrust, being one with my car… my beast… my demon.

Mr. J tells me that the day they pull my limp body from the tangled metal and pronounce me dead, he will kill me again. His exact words, “If you die, I am going to kill you.”That is love in its most obscure form!

Ten on Thursday

This week I am going to step back in time a couple years, ok SEVERAL years and give you 10 of my childhood memories:

1.) I was about 7 years old when my family left me in Yellowstone National Park. Yes, they drove off and left me. I grew up in a very large family. Living at the East entrance to Yellowstone, we often went to the park for picnics on Saturday afternoons. Saying, “Dad can we go to the park?” held a completely different meaning for us.

I was down by the river gather beautiful rocks, when it dawned on me that I could not hear any of my siblings. I wandered back up to the campground and everyone was gone! I hiked over to the next campground (about 20 feet of hiking) and explained to the family that I was all alone. I wonder what they really felt about my parents leaving me behind.

My parents discovered I was missing when they unloaded the car back home and came back to pick me up. To this day we all joke about whether their over-site was intentional or not. I mean, if you have too many children doesn’t it make sense to accidentally leave one to forage for food in Yellowstone.   

2.) I was close to the same age when I begged my big brother to let me ride his bike to Ben Franklins, the local five and dime store. He agreed if I promised to buy him a nickel candy bar.

The problem was, I had never been on such a tall bike. When I got to the store, I jumped down, splitting my private parts on the center bar. I was sure that I would never be able to have babies… EVER!

(It looked similar to this bike, but with peddles)

3.) The Tomato Wars ~ We had a huge garden and some impressive tree forts. Often times we would sneak tomatoes out of the garden and have awesome tomato wars. This was great fun until we ran out of tomatoes and began using dirt clods. Country kids are brutal.

4.) Our trip to Custer’s Battleground at the Little Bighorn. Learning from the time they left me in Yellowstone, Mom made us all red windbreakers. I love history and this is one of my favorite places.

5.) Swinging on a rope from the big oak tree into the apple orchard. If you did not aim correctly you would smack face first into the trunk instead of landing on one of the branches. great fun comes form the possibility of knocking one’s teeth out.

6.) Listening to inappropriate music. I was such a rebel. My mom stopped me at the door when I came home with a KISS album. She told me that she would not allow that trash in our home. I carried my little record player up to the living room and played Beth for her. That was the ONLY song on the album that I played for her. She consented to letting me keep the record… but shook her head about the outrageous face paint.

7.) Skateboarding in the early 70’s. We had to sweep the sidewalks clean because even the smallest pebble could spell disaster for the old wheels. We often tied a rope to the back of a bicycle and had one of our brothers pull us down the street.

Which reminds me of “Hooky-bobbing” ~ Grabbing hold of the rear bumper of a car as it was pulling out and being pulled as we glided in the snow. I have no idea how we lived to adulthood.

8.) Jumping off the roof of a cabin into snow drifts that were over our heads. We would then be at the mercy of other to help dig us out. Again it was the thrill of possibly killing ourselves that kept us entertained.

9.) The burning barrel ~ I have developed into a pyromaniac of sorts from my chore of burning the trash in the burning barrel. I learned the fascination of exploding hairspray cans. I also learned how to make a hairspray can flame thrower. Ahhh… Country living at it’s best.

10.) CHORES… Oh good grief do I remember the chores. From baking bread to the hours spent every Saturday pulling weeds in the garden, mowing the 1/2 acre lawn to endless loads of laundry. We could not go off in our adventures at the river to play with the water snakes until we had finished our chores.

Our poor mom had to deal with these creatures coming home with us. Yes, my childhood was filled with country life at it’s finest! I didn’t even get into the b-b gun wars, the dart to the back of the neck, or riding on an inner-tube thru an irrigation culvert

Laughing at Life

That is exactly what we did all weekend. We laughed so much that Mr. J was concerned strangers were going to call in the authorities and have us hauled off in little white jackets.

Friday night we took a drive to the beach to watch the waves crash.  We then drove to Fulton to see the giant live Oak trees. I would have loved to have these trees to climb and build a fort in when I was young. They are magnificent!

 

It is hard to stay sad when you are surrounded by such beauty. I took the picture below as the sun was coming up at Aransas Bay. 

It was so rejuvenating and I grimaced at the thought of going back to Houston. Mr. J must have felt the vibe. He turned and asked me if I was ready for an adventure?

ALWAYS! You see, Mr. J and I are Gypsies at heart. We travel light and are most happy when we are out in the world. If we become stuck in our hood for too long, we get restless and irritable. (bet you couldn’t tell from my posts the last week or so… hehehe)

“Good. Go pee and get ready for a drive.”

I always laugh and wrinkle up my nose when he tells me to go pee. I am not five and do not need to be reminded to use the restroom before a long drive. I swear! Just because that one time when I made him stop five miles down the road at a gas station.

Speaking of gas station toilets; I would rather pee behind the building than use one of those nasty places. However, peeing behind the building might land me a spot in the county hotel. And I do not want to be responsible for giving some poor homeless man a heart failure or cause blindness.

So, I place a half a roll of paper on the seat and even then chose to hoover. They need to send in these guys with high pressure hoses to clean the poop off of the seats and floors and walls. Why do people put poop on the walls? (And if you have never been blessed with a trip to a gas station restroom in the hood I am so sorry. Everyone should try it just once. It makes you more appreciative of home and helps to overlook Mr J’s occasional ooops. (how do they miss?)

 

I am WAY OFF TRACK.

Me ~ “OK, Mr J. I peed. Can we go now?”  “Where we going?” “Can I get some chocolate while we are gone?” (my brain mouth slipped into overdrive)

Mr. J ~ (looking at me out of the corner of his eye… and yes, I noticed that he was rolling his eyes) “Breathe between questions. You are going to pass out and if you pass out, I am going to take advantage of you.”

Oh that man is such a card. I love telling him just that, but I use my best Boston accent so it sounds as if I am calling him a cod.

So, off we went on an adventure. No plans, no reservations, and no schedules for two days. Just two goofballs on the open road.

When we got to I-10 he made a right and I began to giggle like a school girl. “Are we going where I think we are going?” I asked.

Mr. J had a big grin on his gorgeous face. He just kept saying, “You’ll see.”

This was too much. I grabbed my camera and began snapping pictures. Out of respect for Mr. J’s wishes, I will not post any of the 112 pictures that I took of him making faces at me.

This one I snapped just before I-10

He told me to stop snapping that type of picture as it was his responsibility to turn me over to Homeland Security for taking pictures of chemical plants. I swear that I was taking a picture of the ship channel and the plants jumped into the picture uninvited. (If I quit posting it is because my hubby is a good citizen and called the appropriate authorities.)

As we rolled closer and closer to Looser-Anna Louisiana, I had to ask him again; “Where are we going?”

This time Mr J explained while he tried to keep from laughing, “We are going to spend the night in their town, since they have made themselves comfy in ours.”

We decided that we should be safe in New Orleans with the worst of the hoodlums camping out around the corner from our house.

 

I took that picture because, well who would want to live in a town called Sulpher? I laid out my thickest Southern drawl and said, “Baay-bee, Can we move to Sulpher, Looser-Anna?”

(I think he cursed at me… something about saying no to crack.)

OH Crack! That reminds me, I want some Looser-Anna Crack!

Ah my sweet was so good at obliging me this trip. He found my favorite crack shop.

I am a crack cracklin junkie. The stuff is so bad for you and tastes so goooooooooooood! Thankfully, we have not found a good place to buy it in Texas.

We then got back on the road… between stuffing our faces with Cajun crack and laughing at the simplicity of everything around us, I almost forgot to continue snapping pictures.

The boat on the right of the picture used to sit on the left side of Lake Charles. Hurricane Rita relocated it to a spot under the bridge that we are on when I snapped the picture. The casino that owned the boat never rebuilt so the boat was bought out by a casino on the right side of the lake.

(Mr J drives fast and the countryside is a bit blurry) 😀 The trees are beginning to show more life. This part of the country was eerie after Rita blew thru. The leaves had been stripped from branches and many of the taller trees were snapped and cast all over the highway.

The gorgeous foyer of our humble abode for the night. I have never seen a Holiday Inn Express that looked so fancy. The rooms were not as elegant but they were clean and the bed had plenty of bounce. I know because I was jumping on it until Mr. J came back with a bucket of ice and caught me.  😀

This is a picture of the best part of the hotel:

Look close. Do you notice anything out of the ordinary? Keep in mind that I am slightly off kilter and thrive off of obscurity.

Take a closer look below.

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Hahahaha… we slept next to the cemetery. While we were out eating and then later playing at a casino, I kept asking Mr. J to take me back so we can sleep at the cemetery.

Perhaps I was getting on his nerves because he raised an eyebrow and asked, “Ya want for me to arrange for the boys to tuck ya in for a dirt nap?” (That was his Al Pacino impersonation)

I needed this weekend more than I knew. My cheeks are still sore from all the laughing. Fully recharged, we once again came home…

Happy Happy Wendy Day

 WENDY

I am my usual slow self…. Just getting around to making a wish for your Happy Day…

Unfortunately, do to the fact that I am so slow… I had to rely on thievery in delivering your cake…

I hope you will be oohed and aahed by the little cheeks and forgive me for stealing this cutie to pass on.

(she is just too sweet to keep to myself) 😉

Happy Valentine’s Day

 

Yes, I came in to work late… You want details? hehehe…

I brought my honey breakfast in bed.

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Followed by dessert in bed…

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Y’all are languishing in the gutter, aren’t ya?

The kitty a bit creamy?

Go ahead and admit that you are swimming in your smutty thoughts!

Naughty, naughty, naughty…

Dessert was strawberries and cream.  

The rest of the morning will be left up to your imaginations. I did not turn on the video camera. (not that you need to see all of this in it’s nekkid glory!)