BABY GOT BACK! (and then some!)

I took the girls to the store yesterday to get some last minute things for Rocky's holiday weekend camping trip with her friend's family.  (any and all activities that promote peace and quiet in MY house by separating the girls into OTHER houses is greatly encouraged and appreciated).  When we passed the lingerie department I caught sight of a large but delicate bra.

Holy mackerel, is that for your boobs or your butt?

Okay, I said the bra was delicate, no me!  But really, it was HUGE!  I'll tell you what, if I walked into the bedroom with the natural endowments in which to fill a bra of that proportion, Dickidoo would probably never let me walk back out!

But back up for a second, because my initial reaction got me to thinking....

A bra for your butt....

I've seen padded panties for those poor souls who have no cushioning on their back side, but that is not my problem.  I've got more than enough cushion, it has just succumbed to the pull of gravity over the years, pretty much like my boobs, except there are push-up bras to fix that little age related flaw.  What I need is a push-up panty to perk my cheeks back up into place.   If that were to happen even J-Lo would be looking my way with envy, cos believe me, this baby's got back, its just riding a little low at the moment.

So Hanes, Fruit of a Loom, Playtex, John Deere, who ever is up to the challenge... Make me a 'pick-em-up' panty!

(Did I mention how quiet it is in the house with only one girl home?  Ahhhhh... peace at last!)

JUST WHEN I THOUGHT I KNEW IT ALL....

You were pretty safe ramming it in there. A pick up truck tire doesn't have an inner tube.
-Paul

Would you believe that I honestly thought that there was an inner tube in my tire?  Dickidoo laughed when I asked him, I guess he thought I knew.   So when did that happen?  When did they take the inner tubes out of the tires?  I'm just glad they were still around when I was growing up because I spent many a hot summer's day floating around the ocean on an over inflated, over patched rubber inner tube.

FLAT!

Dickidoo woke me up at o'dark hundred as he so does on most mornings, and as I so often like to do when he does that... I ignored everything he said, until it was my time to wake up.

At 8:30 I sat straight up in bed.  Did he say 'flat' ?

A quick dash out to the driveway was confirmation enough.

Yep, he said 'flat'.  Big Red's rear tire was flatter than a popped balloon, thanks no doubt to the wood screw burrowed flush against the rubber.

No problem, I have a full sized spare mounted under the truck and I know how to change a tire.  That should be a 20 minute job max.

Problem.... I have a full sized spare mounted under the truck... but I don't know how to get unmounted.  Grrrrr!

I vaguely remember Dickidoo mentioning a Plan B.  That would be the tire plugs.  I must have snored when he mentioned where to find them so I tore the garage apart, inventoried the 4 tool boxes... and nothing!  I finally found the sticky plug strips in one vehicle and the applicators in another.

Thread the plug strip through the eye of the applicator...

Huh?  Said plug strip is wider than the eye of said applicator, and its sticky!  It doesn't fit through the eye... it sticks to the eye!

Grrrr again!

I finally shoved the sticky glob through the hole in the applicator and tried to insert it into the hole left by the screw.  Hahahaha!  Those guys who make this stuff are real comedians!  That plug strip wasn't 'inserting' anywhere, because it was sticking to everything!  I tried pushing harder but was afraid of puncturing the inner tube.

Wait... the tire is already flat, and lets face it, its not getting any flatter so what could it hurt?   I shoved the dang thing in and instant success!

So the 20 minute job ended up taking 90 minutes but Iwas only 15 minutes late for work, thanks to an electric air compressor, and the plug held up for the trip home although the tire looks like it has a big black wart on it.

But I think I will meet Dickidoo at the door when he gets home, with an ice cold beer, and a wrench so he can help me get that stupid spare tire off the bottom of my truck truck and replace the punctured tire.

Grrrrrr!

WHERE IN THE WORLD IS DICKIDOO?

Dickidoo's job depends on him being able to get from point A to point B based on grid coordinates rather than street addresses so he invested in a cute little GPS unit.  Personally I don't trust gadgets with users manuals which are larger and heavier than the product itself.  Fortunately for him, the GPS manual was partially illustrated and Dickidoo was eventually able to decipher it.  It only took him an hour to figure out how to get home from the cul de sac in front of the house.

"Steve Steve.... do we take a left here?"

"Steve Steve, are we there yet?"

OVERNIGHT DEFLATION

I don't know what we ate last night but Dickidoo and I were full of gas by bedtime.  I demurely tried to hold mine in or at least disguise them behind a cough but after enduring Dickidoo's unabashed barrage of flatulence for a good part of the night I thought 'well what the heck!' and I let 'em rip!  It sounded like an Arnold Swartzenegger movie for the rest of the night.  Thank goodness for the little fan that kept the fumes blowing out the open window.  (blow, little fan, blow!)

My head ache is gone.  Any connection to the midnight fumigation is purely speculative but none the less appreciated. 

I was able to squeeze into my size 11 petite Faded Glory jeans this morning.  Its been about 2 years since I last fastened that top button.  My Michelin love-handles might be hanging over just a little bit more than normal, and I did have to wear slip-on shoes instead of anything I would have had to bend over to tie, and I may have stretched the seams of said size 11 petite Faded Glory jeans to the limits... but dang it, I got the zipper up, fastened the button and was able to breath without the aid of a ventilator for the duration of my 4 hour shift!  (I suspect the reduction of natural gases during the night may have something to do with my slight decrease of fluffiness.)

My belly button is mad at me.  It was completely compressed in to a vertical wrinkle and forced into the tight confines of my jeans for the entire day and now it won't come out even though I have released the button and am sitting with my zipper undone.  My lungs are once again filled to capacity and the blood had resumed circulation in the  lower half of my body.  My love handles are rejoicing,  but not my navel.  It is pouting and refuses to show itself.  Or maybe it was squeezed together for so long that its stuck shut.  Oh well, its not like its important or anything.  It just sits around and collects lint.   I can live without my belly button.

Especially if it means that I can once again wear my size 11 petite Faded Glory jeans!

HEAD ACHE

I think I hard boiled my brain yesterday.  My head feels like it is going to burst any second.  It hurts.... right there on the top, a little to the right... yeah, right.... THERE!  I'm sitting here typing, with my head tilted a little to the right as if the angle would help to relieve some of the pressure.  I don't think it does, it still hurts no matter how I hold my head, but at least this way I feel like I'm doing something constructive.  Must remember to wear a hat next time.

The Oompas are looking for things to irritate me.  Why do kids do that?  Becca and Rocky were pretending to talk on a walkie talkie, complete with sound effects (keeeeek- 'over' - keeeeeeek).  For 2 hours their entire conversation, including a couple of arguments, were done entirely in two-way radio lingo (keeeeek  'over'  keeeeek)  They eventually got bored when I ignored them and searched for something else to irritate me with.

Schleck!

Actually that was Art and Rocky just a few moments ago.  I hate the sound of someone chewing with their mouth open.  They know this and when I requested that they stop slopping their jaw, they chewed louder.  Okay, I'll fix them....

"You sound like the Mother Alien... giving birth.'  I announced.  Art was immediately grossed out and promptly quit.  Rocky persisted until she started laughing and began to choke on her acid spit.  Ahhhh, peace and quiet.

Good, because with a headache the size of the one I have right now I just might do something with a roll of duct tape that only another parent could appreciate.

HAPPY FATHERS' DAY

I have 3 very special Father's in my life, my father, the father of my children, and the father of my Grandson. 

Daddy, I'm sure I didn't show you the appreciation you deserved while I was growing up but I'm glad you never gave up on me.  Thank you.  I love you.

Steve, Dickidoo... I tease you a lot... maybe even too much at times, but never doubt that I am so proud of who and what you are.  You have provided a wonderful life for our children, full of important lessons and wonderous experiences.  I have watched you grow from an inexperienced first time father into a mentor, role model and now a grandfather with such style and grace.  I love you, always.

Gabe, my son, you have made such huge decisions in the past few years and have come through with flying colors.  One of the biggest was your decision to be a part of your son's life.  You have grown in to a fine young man, soldier and father.  I am so proud of you!

Each of these men have played a very special role in my life, and so to them, and to all of the father's out there, I wish a very Happy Fathers' Day!

Check out a special slide show for Gabe from all of his family and friends.

SO PROUD!  (video blog) or:

YouTube - SO PROUD

MORAL 'BOOSTER' and extra toilet paper?

I bought a new bra yesterday.  I decided to accept the reality that I am no longer the same size I used to be so I selected a bra that was not only wider, but 'bigger' as well.  Later, when I put it on I was amazed by how comfortable the foundation garment was.  I swear I heard Jennifer Warnes and Joe Cocker singing "Love Lift Us Up Where We Belong" playing in the background as 'the twins' were lifted back to their rightful place at my chest rather than my waist where they had spent the past few years.  I could be Dolly Parton's twin... only I'm wider, darker, Asian, brunette... but other than that... we're identical!  I have 'perked' and am now higher than my elbows, WOO HOO!

Something else miraculous happened here.  Its been almost 2 weeks since I last bought toilet paper, and we still have 2 full rolls in the house!  Now, I'm not sure if that's a good thing, considering that the kids are on vacation and home ALL the time, but for some reason, now that they are spending more time at home, they used less toilet paper than they did during the school year when they were at school for 6 hours a day.  Hmmmm......  Not sure this is a good thing at all!

'YOU'VE GOT TROJANS!'

I can't believe I fell for that old 'log in here to view your pictures' scam, but I did... just days after my son got our account TOS'd for spamming over 600 emails... while he was asleep!  Did I change my password immediately?  No... I just 'assumed' that the page hadn't loaded because my computer was already over loaded.  A few days later... poof!  I get a message from MAILER-DAEMON citing a 'delivery problem' with some emails I never sent.  Finally a light went on in my head, but the damage was already done.  Later that night my account was once again TOS'd for spamming.

So... here's what I have pieced together. 

On the 6th of June my son received an email stating that he had unviewed pictures in his You've Got Pictures inbox.  He logged in to the link but the page didn't load.  He X'd out and forgot about it.

On the 9th of June our account was suspended for spam coming from my son's account.  The spam email was entitled 'You have unviewed pictures in your inbox'.

Our account was restored, but a full virus scan keeps getting interrupted and is not completed.

On the 8th I receive an email entitled 'You have (6) pictures'.  Unaware that my son had received a similar email just days earlier I open the email, try to log on, it fails, I forget about it.

On the 13th of June I get 3 returned emails from MAILER-DAEMON, which I never sent in the first place.  A quick trip to my sent box of my email shows that there are more emails that I never sent.   I immediately do a full virus scan.  There are approximately 20 alerts, all the same type of Trojan but on 3 different accounts.  I delete them, remove my restore points, empty my temporary internet and history files, restart my computer a number of times, restart again, reset my restore points...

And get TOS'd.

After restoring my account and changing all the passwords... again... I edited the blocked words list in all of our email controls to  reject any mail containing: [You've Got ( * ) Pictures!] and [unviewed pictures]. 
A word of caution:  Don't get complacent.  When AOL says they will never ask for your password or billing information... they mean it.  You do not need a password to see your You've Got Pictures.  If you got the email in the first place then you're already logged in to AOL, you don't need to log in a second time.  If you are prompted to do so, chances are its a bad email.  Delete it!  Quite honestly I knew better and I'm mad at myself for falling for it.

 

This is a screenshot of what a YGP email should look like.  Please note the reminder up at the top of the email.  Now that you know what to look for, if you still open and log on to a phoney you almost deserve to get a stinkin' virus (like I did! Grrrr!).

UN-FUNNY

I work with money all day long.  I take people's money for a living, its my job and I do it well.

I think I have a decent sense of humor, really I do....

But if one more person tells me that they 'just printed that money last night', I'm going to call security and let those guys figure out if the customer is joking or not.  Folks, that stopped being funny after the first thousand times.  Enough already!  Bomb jokes aren't funny on airplanes, and counterfeit money jokes aren't funny at banks and stores.

There... okay, I feel better now that I've gotten that out of my system.

So, how was YOUR day?

WOUNDED

I warn my kids about it every time they use the oven...

"Don't stick your face over the oven door when you open it because the steam can really hurt" 

So it makes absolutely no sence that I should become the victim of a steam injury while using the oven, and yet here I am, hurting, and feeling sorry for myself, holding my bottle of beer against my nostrils to ease the burn with its frosty coolness.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again... "Sometimes it really sucks to be me! " And the barbecue chicken can burn for all I care because I'm not going near that oven again tonight.

My nose hurts.  I need another beer.

ANOTHER ONE OF THOSE AIMLESS, RANDOM ENTRIES

Yesterday I stepped into the girls' bathroom.  That was a mistake.  The floor was completely carpeted with dirty clothes and it smelled like a locker room after overtime.  So I tell the girls that their bathroom smells and for them to take care of it.

When I entered the bathroom today, the floor was still padded.  Everything was in the exact same place it was earlier, with the exception of the can of Febreze which was now perched on the top of the stack.  The room still stunk like dirty socks... and Febreze.

Dickidoo woke early this morning... before the alarm went off.  Unfortunately he didn't actually turn the alarm off before he jumped into the shower, no, that privilege was left for me.  Isn't he precious?

Gabe made it back safe (?) to his unit in Iraq.  Hopefully he'll be back in time to spend the holidays with us.  Woo hoo!  I'm getting all 'happy' again! 

THAR'S GOLD IN THEM THAR HILLS!

Unfortunately we picked the wrong hills for gold panning yesterday.  That's not to say we didn't have fun. We ended up driving along the Gold Belt Tour route, which is a winding dirt mountain trail, treacherous in some places, but the scenery is absolutely breath taking.  We saw chipmunks, lizards, dozens of bird species... and a cow elk... who had just... JUST given birth.  She cautiously watched us for a while before moving in to the nearby tree line.  No, we didn't go down to look for the newborn although the curiosity was great.  We just looked from the roadside.  Now that was a losing plan right from the get-go because even the newborns have the instinct to remain silent and motionless when separated from its mother, and its spotted camouflage helped it to blend in to the thick cover when it was born.  Still, we wanted to see the tiny creature... without disturbing it or stressing out its mother.  And no... we never did see the tiny fawn although I'm sure its momma knew exactly where it was and probably never took her eyes off of us from her concealed spot in the trees.

So gold panning was a bust, our next stop in our search for riches was Cripple Creek, which once upon a time used to be a big mining town.  There are still mines in operation there on the outskirts of the mountain town, but the major industry now days is GAMBLING.  It was 7pm by this time and we were hungry.  We had $40 in our pockets (okay, I had $0, Dickidoo had $40), so we decided to eat at one of the Casinos.  Our favorite, Bronco Billy's (my favorite investment opportunity) offers a delicious steak dinner for $6.45.  We knew we could feed the 5 of us for under $40.  But we didn't have to.  A regular visitor and fellow investor, saw Dickidoo waiting to be seated with the Oompas and offered him 5 coupons each good for a free meal.  (Thank you again Fair Lady). 

When the little light up coaster announced that our table wasready, the Oompas jumped up and cried out 'Jackpot!  I'm a WINNER!'  Art waved a single piece of confetti that he had picked up off the floor in celebration.  Unfortunately that would be the only celebrating we would do at the casino.  Dickidoo gave me a $20, which, with my luck didn't last long at all, even though the entire family, and a friend from work who was sitting at the next table over, blew good luck on the bill.  We left the waitress a $10 tip and I used the last $10 in a last ditch effort at riches.  When I met up with the family outside... 15 minutes later, the guilt trip was immediate.  Dickidoo had promised the kids ice cream if I struck it rich.  I came out empty handed.  I would hear about my failure to provide all the way home.

All in all it was a wonderful day.  A beautiful drive through the mountains, a chance peek at the wonders of nature, a free meal and lighthearted quality family time... Yeah, I think we struck gold yesterday.

INSOMNIA

Sometime in the wee hours of the morning a sound woke me from my light slumber.  As I pushed my way through the fog of sleep I tried to identify the sound, but other than the occasional chirp of a cricket outside the window, it was silent.

Except for the steadily increasing buzz of a chainsaw caught in Dickidoo's nasal cavity, and the occasional chirping of a couple of crickets, it was silent.  Except for the moan of the wind being sucked through the house by the swamp cooler... and the mega-chainsaw up Dickidoo's nose, and the incessant shrieking of a swarm of crickets outside the window it was silent.

BEEP!

Every three minutes something somewhere in the dark of the room broke through all of the noise with a pitch as soothing as fingernails on a blackboard pierced my eardrums.  At some point in time the birds began to wake, their sleep disturbed no doubt by the racket coming from within my bedroom.

Finally, sometime shortly after 8am what ever was beeping finally beeped its last beep and went completely dead but by that time the birds were in full harmony, the squirrels clucked at the barking dogs, car alarms greeted each other, and a neighbor, inspired by the sound of Dickidoo's chainsaw, began to mow the lawn.

Oh well, who needs sleep anyhow?

HUMBLED

I consider myself a fair-to-decent-typist.  I type fast.  My spelling is what sucks.  I spell wrong... fast.  So when I do an entry, or type an email, I type wrong... fast, and then proof read.

I can type fast, wrong, in the dark.

I can't, however, type at an angle... in the dark.

Last night I tried.  The laptop was on the TV tray table thingie there between the arms of the sofa and chair in the den.  I turned the laptop so I could reach it from my position on the chair, but the cords, which were caught up on something, would only allow so much give, and no more.  So I left the computer there, turned slightly in the overstuffed chair and reached over to type, in the dark since Dickidoo had turned the light off to watch TV and hadn't turned it back on when he left the room.  I suppose I could have turned the light on myself, but why?  I can type perfectly in the dark, right?

But somehow, at some point, someone had come in and rearranged all of the keys because what I was typing and what was appearing on the screen were noteven remotely similar.  I don't think the text was even English, there were too many consenants.  What should have been a lightning quick IM to my sister became a multi-minute ordeal that was back-spaced and deleted dozens of times before I could find the send button.

Beginning Typing 101... I remember sitting in the back of the class rolling my eyes as my teacher demonstrated the proper technique used for positioning the body when typing.  Place the tip of your pinkie finger on the keyboard.  With an open palm, touch the tip of your thumb to your body.  Your thumb should be level with your belly button.  If not, your keyboard is either too high or too low and should be adjusted.  Elbows resting loosly by your side, fingers lightly touching the keyboard, never fully resting on them.

The moral of this story.... No matter how good you think you might be at something, don't fool yourself into thinking that you can do just as well under any and all circumstances.  It just takes a slight diviance to completely throw you off.

Or.... type in a well lit room with the keyboard directly in front of you, so you can see how bad your typing really sucks!

(oooh!  Look at all the pretty yellow words!)

CREME PUFFS, Who will buy my creme puffs?

 

We went to Territory Days the other weekend and I was kind of surprised to see a young vendor sporting a punk mohawk.  What was even more surprising was what the guy was selling... check out his sign, Creme Puffs!  Too funny!  But he was a good sport and allowed me to take his picture.  Isn't he cute, in a punkish, creme puff kind of way?

WARDROBE MALFUNCTION

Okay, it might not have been run and re-run a gazillion times on FoxNews, CNN, CBS, ABC and NBC.  It may not have made the headlines across the nation and I'm probably the only person in the www who is blogging about it, but I had a wardrobe malfunction yesterday at work.   Granted, I was still fully covered by my brassiere, not some glittery piece of metal stapled on to that tender region, and while I may not be quite as perky as Ms. Jackson, there is no arguing the length of my cleavage. 

I have no idea how long my button had been open before someone told me.  I figure being embarrassed by the thought that countless people before then might have caught a glimpse of my bra... is a useless emotion.  What can I say but 'oops'.  It does make me suspect of all the complements I had received on my black and aqua blouse prior to that though. 

I didn't even get a side note in the editorial section of the local paper... no photograph with a black square over my exposed region.  No public outcry or outrage.

It just doesn't quite seem fair.

GOD SPEED, GABE.

Gabe left this morning.  American Airlines had made all of the flight arrangements thanks to the donations of frequent flier miles from so many wonderful, anonymous Americans.  It was a good visit.  Too short, but good.    My only regret was that we could not have my Grandson here with us, but Gabe was still able to spend time with him and for that I am grateful.

We live just minutes away from the airport and after dropping Gabe off, I stood in the back yard until his plane flew over head and then disappeared over the trees.  Listening to his stories these past two weeks, watching his face, his expressions, seeing the man and the soldier he has become, I found confidence in the knowledge that my boy will be okay.  He is well trained and works along side of some of America's finest defenders.  Watching him walking away this morning to return to Iraq was not as hard as I thought it would be.  Okay, I have been on the verge of tears all day, but so far have been able to blink them away.

Tonight, however, will be one heck of a long night.