25 December 2009

Because I had to work today on this gorgeous, sunny Christmas day, we had Christmas last night at my parents' house.  I was sitting on the couch with SoS snuggled close and I noticed he was eyeballing my cleavage.  (I was wearing a scooped neck blouse, not a J. Lo special; c'mon it's me we're talking about here!)  I lifted his cute little dimpled chin and he batted his long, blonde eyelashes over his baby-blue eyes and said, "I was lookin' at those."    Yeah, dude, I noticed.  Now knock it off.  I guess I'll never have to wonder about this kid's sexuality.

Merry, merry Christmas. Hope you all have all your Christmas wishes come true.

20 December 2009

Scenes From A Crazy Family Christmas

One of my nephews was discussing the amount of medication his ferret (!) was on with my SIL.  His ferret was on 7 pills a day and her dog was on 5.  I said, "There's always the .22 solution."  They looked at me blankly until my father said, "Yeah, it travels at 1700 feet per second!"  They didn't think we were funny.

I was sitting next to my youngest BIL while the presents frenzy was happening and leaned around him to talk to my SIL (not his wife) when I heard, "While you're down there..."  So I dug my elbow into his thigh.  Was that what you meant ya little perv?

I was saying goodbye to one of my nephews and ran into the couch as I hugged him.  I mentioned something about my big, fat ass and he said, "Yeah, but that only happens in the winter, right?"   Yeah.  You ever planning on having a girlfriend, bucko?

18 December 2009

My feelings toward Christmas this year are distinctly meh.  We had several frigid, but gorgeous, weeks where I could have avoided the yearly curse of hanging lights on the house in tsunami-like conditions; but instead I continued to look at the box of lights in the garage and said. "Not today."  And then it started raining.  I do realize today is pretty good from a Pac NW point of view, but Christmas is only a week away (ack!) and I'm not hanging lights just so the Homeowners Association Nazis can give me the fish eye come Jan 3.  We've had the tree for a week and it's had lights on it for four days and ornaments for two.  My dad insisted on coming with us to get the tree ("we need one too") and followed the three of us out to the tree farm.  We got there, all piled into the cab of Dad's truck, drove about half a mile, and picked nearly the first tree we saw.  Then we walked about 12 more feet and picked the next one.  From leaving my house to leaving the tree farm with two trees it took an hour.  And that includes the 40 minute drive to the farm.  As my dad said, if my mom had been there we might have just been getting out of the truck.  It really cuts down on time when you have someone to be your mule and you don't have to stop sawing every 10 seconds to assure that your offspring haven't wandered off,  fell in a slough, or accosted poor, innocent tree seekers. 

Had to do the whole yearly thing.  Bill the Wonder Doc is still in Iraq, not that it would matter because neck to knees is a No Fly Zone for him.  It's not that I've known him since he was a poor pitiful first year resident that I had to pull out of a C-section his very first day on the floor for a delivery; it's that he is a whopping 2 days older than I am.  It's like having your twin brother do your pelvic exam.  No thank you.  So, since I have the world's most bestest OB/GYN she gets the duty.  She cracks me up because nothing shakes her.  Mohawks, blingee, it's all just part of the landscape.  Even on someone as outwardly conservative, and let's face it, pretty much inwardly as well, as I. 

The dog has taken to surfing.  I swore the other day that I had a cube of butter on the counter.  Since I couldn't find it, I just figured I had used it all and forgotten, so I pulled another out of the fridge.  And then found a shredded butter wrapper all over the living room floor.  At least he knows enough to eat the evidence in a room that is hardly used, thus delaying being found out.  Last weekend I made some nice tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwhiches for lunch.  Just the cozy thing for a blustery day.  I called the boys to the table and then had to step into the bathroom.  I heard the footsteps of  a thousand head of bison thunder by and then FB asks, "Mom?  Where's the other half of my sandwhich?"    He's quick and stealthy that dog. I hadn't even known he was in the room. He should do recon for the Marines.

After church last Sunday SoS comes up to me and says, "Mom!  I learned you don't do this!"  And then proceeds to flip me the bird.  Nice.  "Did you do that in class?!?"  "No!"  Well, then how did the subject come up?  I can't see your cute little Sunday School teacher arbitrarily throwing that in with "don't speak the Lord's name in vain."  No phone calls yet, but I'm anticipating.

The outlaw's Christmas party is tomorrow.  Somebody save me.  This is a LOUD ( I know, coming from me that is saying something), eating, present opening, frenzy of biblical proportions.  There has to be 40 people crammed into this early '70s split level.  It's so hot you have meat falling off the bone and no one can hear because no one shuts up long enough to let anyone else talk.  Which I usually don't mind so much, they're family, you gotta love 'em, it's written in the by-laws.  It's just that the MIL can't hardly breathe these days without making me want to punch her.  I start off telling myself to just let everything go, and then she says something so incredibly inane or references some thing about her late son, that she couldn't carry her ass 18 miles to come see when he was dying because she COULDN"T FACE THE BRIDGE, or says something about how long it's been since she's seen the boys, the offspring of said late son, whose house she passes by on the freeway on the way to go clamming, and then talks about going up to the mountain to my BIL's cabin, but can't come 18 FUCKING MILES to see her grandkids, and I sort of lose my tolerance.  Not to mention my FIL starts drinking and then turns into this dirty old man that you practically need a crowbar to get to stop hugging you.  AAAAACCCKKK!  I'm putting myself on-call at 0300 just so I have an excuse to bail out of there by 2100!

11 December 2009

Ever had a day when you felt like this?  I had a couple of patients today that required a lot of emotional support.  A LOT of SUPPORT.  The first one was eight solid hours. It's pretty emotionally draining.  Which leaves me not a lot for the little curtain climbers at home.  And motivation is pretty much non existent.  Then I got a call from a friend who also needed a lot of support regarding an issue with her son.  Which I don't mind.  It's just that it is exhausting being all things to all people sometimes.  I blame it all on not working out this morning.  I'm sure it's not flirting with iminent cardiac arrest while cursing the sadist on my TV that has put me in such a funk.
I need to regroup.

Ah, there we go.

SoS has been having a hard time a school the last few days.  He had been doing better and then completely backslid this week.  I couldn't figure out what the problem was.  He kept having notes home about being loud; but he has an ear infection so he's practically deaf.  He finished his Z-pack today and, just for kicks, I read the package insert.  I never read the package insert.  Guess what?  Side affects include hyperkinesis and hyperactivity.  Which I always thought were essentially the same; but far from me to argue with GlaxoSmithKline.  What kind of antibiotic causes hyperactivity?  And why would you give that to an above average active kid anyway?  His teacher must have loved

Since it's Friday night I let the kids stay up late, rotting their brains with video games and Disney YouTube.  When I finally wrestled them away from their Videodrome (without the weird vulva in the stomach thing though) and got them upstairs, SoS starting bawling because I said he didn't need to take a shower.  "But I don't want to go to bed all stinky!"  What kind of seven year old is this?

10 December 2009

I had a very cute couple from Yemen today. And when they told me their daughter's name in Arabic, I heard "durka durka." Damn you Matt Stone and Trey Parker!

09 December 2009

A Few Ramblings

Papa John's Pizza is donating 100% of profits from pizza sales on the 8th and 9th to the families of the Lakewood police officers killed in the line of duty. There has been such and outpouring of support that Papa John's had to disable online ordering, calling to order a pizza might take all day, ordering in person takes 20 minutes and yesterday the delivery time was 5 hours. I was standing in line today and was amazed that, with all these people crammed into this tiny store, the phone ringing incessantly, and delivery drivers coming in and out of the arctic cold, no one was the least bit grumpy. There weren't even any somber faces; everyone was smiling in their effort to support these families in anyway possible.

Speaking of arctic: it was 18 degrees when I left for work this morning and 30 degrees when I left for home. I'm freezing my tits off! If I wanted to live in this kind of cold I would have never left Utah! The only saving grace is there has been no precipitation and so I don't have to deal with drivers unversed in the finer points of solid inclement weather driving. Here's a hint: 4 wheel drive doesn't do squat on ice or even snow for the most part. It will give you a little traction, but not enough to go 80 miles an hour down a freeway packed solid from 4 hours of traffic. Just a little FYI.

One of our counties has declared bikini baristas stands as "adult stores", stating that employees and customers must be at least 18 years of age. I'm waiting to see if the stands will put up a fight in regards to being classified the same as Hustler Hollywood, Castle, Lover's Package and the like.

SoS gave me quite the dissertation today on the human body. A few excerpts:

"Our red blood cells go to our heart and grab oxygen in the lungs and then they go back where they came from to be blue red blood cells."

"Our white blood cells eat up germs."

"When we have viruses, our body goes to them and fights them and makes in 'inky'-bodies so we get better."

"Hey, do we have any feud coloring? I wanna do an spearmint."

So he's got the basic hematology down; good to know.

FB is starting to suffer from testosterone poisoning. I asked him to vacuum and his response was, "Do I need to do this room in here?" Does it have carpet? *crickets* I then had to ask him every time he said he was finished if he had done the stairs, the upstairs, the bedrooms, etc. The last time he said he was done I asked if he had put the vacuum away. "Yep." Really? You wrapped up the cord and put it away? "Yeah." You put it away in the closet where it goes? "Oh...wait."

And last but not least, AWESOME TEXT OF THE DAY:
(352): my drunk uncle just explained that turkeys are not gentle lovers... and no context doesn't make it better.

08 December 2009

This Will Be The Only Thing I Write About This Mess

This was on what I saw in my mailbox today:

Now I hear the CinC shanks like a side of mutton so I can see where El Tigre would need to lend his expertise (yeah, I know he's lining up a putt; he probably shanks those as well), and I realize that this went to print before the shit storm hit the cliched fan, but this may not be the image the usually scandal-less sport may want. Well, scandal-less except for John Daly's drinking but whatev..
I'd also be little leery of taking any tips whatsoever from him; no knowing what you might catch.

And here's a thought: Keep. It. In. Your. Fucking (no pun intended). Pants. And if you can't seem to manage the self control of the average cabbage, don't get married. And for the love of all that's holy, don't, please DON'T, bring kids into this sewage you have for a life.

(By the way, I don't usually read this. I don't even know how I started getting it. But, yes, I own golf clubs, have been known to watch tournaments (especially the Masters and U.S. Open) and I can name more than one piss-poor-excuse-for-a-human-being golfer.)

The One Time I Won't Complain About the Traffic Around Here

Thousands gathering to honor fallen officers | KOMO News - Seattle, Washington | Local & Regional

The processional left McChord AFB at 10 am and finally finished the 10 mile drive to the Tacoma Dome at 1:30 pm.  Police and fifefighters from all over the country attended  as well as Canadian police and one thousand of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

Okay, I was fine until Officer Richards' kids gave his eulogy.  Now I'm a soggy, blubbering mess

05 December 2009

Going through channels and was sucked in by "Steven Seagal: Lawman." It's like driving past a car accident and not being able to tear your eyes from the scene. A veritable vortex of chaos. With all the mystical direction he is giving his fellow officers ("Be a zen marksman; let the bullet fly to its objective. Like the Zen archers. They do not pull the wind; they push it." What the hell are you talking about you bloated windbag?), you expect him to whip of that body armor and stop bullets with the power of his MIND!

03 December 2009

This Is Getting Pretty Viral; But Me Likey All The Same

I know some like Beaker best, but I've always been partial to Animal. Probably good since my kids act like him half the time. He is at is Animal best here.

Plus in has Manamana guy and the Swedish Chef in it...how can it lose?

02 December 2009

Had my laser today and I think you could have executed several people with the amount of electricity I had shot into tender tissues. Holy hell! I even let out a "yawp!" and I had a baby without an epidural and didn't yell. (Mainly because I delivered where I work and you don't want to act the fool in that situation because you know they WILL talk about your ass!) The things we suffer through for fashion. Because, really, who wants to look like this (NSFW picture after the jump):

The Laryngospasms

Non medical types may want to skip this...but I think it's tres funnay.

This one is even better.

Yep, The Apocolypse Is Coming

This idiot updated his Facebook page during his wedding. What. A. Tool.