Sunday, June 24, 2012


Because I'm always a glutton for punishment, or wanting to improve myself, "we," as in the royal we, decided that our family was going to go on a cleansing fast of fruits and vegetables.  Day one.  Today. Nothing but fruit.  Day two.  Veggies.

Let me just interject here and say that my 11 year old and 14 year old were never told to stick to this cleanse, but encouraged to participate in order to add more fruits and vegetables to their non-stop stream of junk food since the end of the school year.  I am not advocating that growing teens and pre-teens cleanse diet.

Day one.  Nothing but fruit.  The day starts well...yummy fruit...mmmm.  Everyone has fruit to the hearts desire.  Apples, mango, pineapple, pears, blueberries...really yummy.  Until about noon.  The kids start whining.  I suggest they add some turkey to their cleanse because lean meats are healthy and they could use a little protein.  They head to the fridge and eat a package of turkey lunchmeat.

Around one I get a text from David.  Does beer count?  We volley back and forth and I suggest that beverages, within reason, should be okay since I really need a diet coke about this time of the day.  We agree that milkshakes, while they sound really good and could be acquired in many fruity flavors, would be unreasonable.

Two o'clock comes and Hannah is about to die from starvation and breaks down and eats a turkey wrap with her fruit.  Bubba needs a turkey sandwich, and both are commended for adding so many fruit and veggies to their day.  Woot!  I beat them!  I'm still in the competition, because everything is a competition to me.

Four o'clock comes around and my tongue is sore from all the pineapple I have eaten.  David gets caught with a Choibani Yogurt, and tells the kids "it's just a thick broth."

So as of 5:00 p.m. on day one of the fast, I am declaring myself the winner.  While the other three still think they are in the game, we all know that I won.  

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

2 fer

Two in one day!  Freaking fabulous.  I just have to say that customer service/manners/let's all be a little flexible was NOT the theme for the day 'round these parts.

First scenario.  I'm doing a bit of research (BTW...LOVING it!) for a paper due on the 25th.  It's a quickie, and I'm acing the class thus far, so I *think* I should be able to pull this off.  I decided that since I hadn't looked at school work in a day or so that I would haul myself and my kids down to the Greene County Library and see what they had in their Greene County room.  You know, 'cuz my research paper is about local art history education.

I walk into the GC Library room and notice that not only do they have an entire row of library computers 20-ish) that are vacant, only ONE old man is in the room looking through microfilm besides the three library employees present.  THREE.  (These numbers are key).

I very pleasantly walk up to the librarian/research helper at the desk and ask for a bit of help.  She looks up from her crossword irritated.  Strike one.  I ask my research question and she looks at me and says that they don't have anything on my subject.  Hmm.  What?  You are an expert in your field and you have the library memorized so you know you DON'T HAVE ANYTHING.  Strike two.  Ms. pain in my butt says that my subject is in a different county and so their archive of papers wouldn't have anything about my subject.  Let me clarify.  Different county, a stones throw away from where I am standing.

So, let me get this straight.  You have the library memorized.  You know everything.  I am an idiot. it.

Ms. pain in the butt librarian, huffs and asks what the date of the event I am researching is.  May 1974, I say in my pure maple syrup voice.  So the librarian gets the microfilm for May 1974, puts it in the machine and walks away.

SOMEONE needs to work on their people skills.

What I would like to say is "There is this new's called a computer...can you check your archives for my subject?"  Pretty please?

The third strike you ask?  Employee number two comes over to me and informs me that my two children are quietly sitting in the research room using one of the twenty unused computers.  Can I please get them to stop?  Seriously?  I look around for the line of people waiting and find no one.  Oh yeah, that's right.

Scenario two.

I'm feeling spend'y so I take my kids to the 1.75 theater for a movie.  We walk in and realize we have the entire theater to ourselves, sit down, and make ourselves comfortable.  5 minutes into the movie two women walk in, take two seats near the back and decide to noisily eat popcorn and drink cans of Red Bull.  Okay...

Fifteen minutes later, the horror of all horrors arrives and sits RIGHT BEHIND ME.  Remember?  Empty theater, save two other people.  The horror then decides to crack multiple cans of soda, then takes out her giant purse of cellophane wrapped mints and vacillate between unwrapping and popping mints and eating a crinkly bag of Fritos.  You know the type.  She is one of those movie goers that laughs really inappropriately, reads all the street signs out loud to herself, and basically could not go a minute without making obnoxiously loud noise.  Matt (my brother), think Ice Age lady.

If you didn't know this about me, I am the one in the theater that moves twice before the movie starts because people are too talky.  If we are going to see a movie for the first time together, I will tell you that I will NOT talk to you during the film, and chew with your mouth closed.

I've decided that I am not going to the theater again (I know, I am lying) and only watch videos at home.  Sometimes I think I really do hate people.


I know.  I know.  It's been awhile, and I'm ignoring you.  Sorry.  Too many excuses to name, and you don't really care, do you?

A funny thing happened yesterday, on the way to the grocery store and I thought of you.  So here we are.

Bubba is sitting in the front seat of the car, Hannah in the back, because ever since my sister came up with the non-fighting rule of "shotgun months," that war was averted.  Instead of calling shotgun, you get an entire month of shotgun, and the other sibling has to sit in the backseat.  This, works like a charm!  It's amazing that it works so well, and like a pesky monthly visitor, you can always tell when it's the first of the month, because a new person is sitting next to you.  Bubba and Hannah ALWAYS seem to know when it's the first, without being reminded.

So Bubba is in the front seat, and he takes off his flip flops and starts examining his feet.  Nice, huh?  Do all 12 year old boys do this?  Take it from me, they are weird.  So he's examining his feet and he announces that they are "bad again," meaning his rash is back.  See?  Boys are gross.  Bubba, to be funny, thrusts one of his nasty feet in my driving space, for me to examine his rash.  While I'm driving.  I tell him to put his feet down (thinking it's unsafe) while Hannah finishes my sentence saying, "because no one wants your Syphilis."

Instant hysterics.  Bubba  really has Psoriasis, or maybe really bad athletes foot, we don't know because I keep forgetting to make a doctor appointment.  Hannah, in her hilarity, continues with how he really needs to get some medicine for his FTD's, foot transmitted diseases, and get this skin condition under control.

It's going to be a long summer.