FORKING MY HAIR, and a snow day for everyone but me.

You know you have really hit rock bottom when the only hair grooming implement you can find at 3 o'clock in the morning is a plastic fork.  Do you know how long it takes to comb hair with a fork?  Well, if its as long as mine it takes exactly 12 minutes!  Grrrrrrrrrr!

Today was a snow day.  Dickidoo and the Oompas had a 2 hour delay.  Today should have been my day off but I had to work... on time... no snow day, no 2 hour delay.  No 'stay home and be safe and warm' day.  Nope, I had to get up at 3am, fork my hair, scrape the snow off my truck and drive to work on snow covered roads because even the snow plow drivers were still tucked in their warm beds at that ridiculous time of the morning.

Tomorrow is my regular day off.  I get to sleep in until 6am.  Woo hoo!  Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

'STAY AWAY FROM THE TREE!', or why Dickidoo has premature gray hair.

I found this video stashed in a Walmart bag with years and years of memories.  Dickidoo took all of the Oompas down to the High School following a light overnight flurry just after Christmas in 2001.  Rocky, who was only 6 at the time, side swiped a tree on her way down.  Miraculously she was unharmed, but poor Dickidoo spent the rest of the day trying to keep the Oompas away from the tree... to no avail.  At one point you can actually see Gabe scoot over at the top of the hill to get closer to the tree.  Rocky was the MVP of the day in her siblings eyes, but I still wince every time I watch this video.

SLEEPING IN (or not) bubbles and Christmas is coming!

I had today off because one of the ladies at work is on vacation so we had to change our schedules to cover her shift.  I was looking forward to sleeping in this morning.  Unfortunately my brain never got the memo and I was wide awake a few minutes before 3am.  I immediately fell back asleep once I was able to convince my internal clock to shut off, but by 6am I was wide awake again.  Grrrrrrrrrr!  I hate when that happens.

The swimming pool has iced over on the top, I guess that means its about time to empty it for the season.  Dickidoo just cleaned and refilled the hot tub last week and we spent a good part of the morning steeping in its warmth.  He didn't put in any defoamer and after running the jets for a little while, some bubbles began to accumulate on the surface.  'Can you guess which one is mine?'  Dickidoo asked innocently as I jabbed at the larger bubbles to pop them.  It took me a second or two to comprehend just exactly what he was saying... Charming Dickidoo, absolutely charming!

Christmas songs have been playing on the radio for weeks and the Christmas displays went up at work the day after Halloween, but it just doesn't really seem like Christmas to me until I catch my first whiff of fresh cut Christmas trees.  I walked past the garden center and smelled them before I saw them.  The crisp pine scent immediately took me back to Christmas's gone by, and for a moment I was a child again, standing there on the sidewalk with my eyes closed, breathing in the heady scent and sighing happily.  When I opened my eyes I realized that I was not alone but the other shoppers merely smiled with shared appreciation.  I love this time of year.

THANKSGIVING PIZZA, the Broncos and mama's cooking.

 We traditionally celebrate Thanksgiving with a Harvest Feast the day after Thanksgiving so yesterday while the rest of the nation was feasting on turkey with stuffing and giblet gravy, we were gobbling down a hand made pepperoni, sausage, mushroom and red pepperocini pizza at one of the only joints open in Old Colorado City.   The lone worker at the Old Town Pizza shop even invited me to go back and personally choose the toppings for our pizza, what a blast that was.  I want a Blodgette pizza oven!  That sucker gets up to 650 degrees!

And while the rest of the nation was watching the Broncos lose to the KC Chiefs in full living color on the NFL network, I was reading the play by play action, complete with commercial breaks on the laptop while my buddy Howie gave away thousands of dollars to his contestants on 'Deal Or No Deal'.  I'd love to be on that show, but instead of 26 beautiful models in skimpy dresses, I'd want 26 Chippendale-ish models in tank tops and blue jeans.  And I would want to rub Howie's head... not for luck but just because it looks sooooo smooth that I just want to touch it!

Time to get the Oompas up and moving.  They will be doing most of the cooking this year.  Its time to pass on the torch.  Hahaha, that's funny isn't it?  Me teaching culinary arts skills!  Hahahaha!  My mom used to say that she couldn't watch me in the kitchen because I was so reckless and messy.  Not much has changed, at least not for the better... but I still LOVE watching my mom in the kitchen.  I don't know how she does it but that woman has thousands of recipes memorized in that head of hers and I swear she gets them right every single time!  Just don't ask her for a recipe, she can't break it down into measurements.  Its all 'a pinch of this and a handful of that'.

THANKFUL THIS THANKSGIVING

So much has happened over the past year alone that has given me new reasons to be thankful.  First and fore most I am thankful that my son Gabe is safe in the US, even if just for a short while.  I am thankful that he has maintained a wonderful, loving relationship with his son who lives in another state with his mother.  I am also thankful that what ever hardships I face from day to day, they have all been manageable, and that even in my sadness it is only sadness that is eventually overcome. 

My children are ornery, but loving.  My husband's 'stomach may stick out farther than his dicki-do', but his heart is even bigger.  And while I may not fall anywhere close to the weight guidelines for the average adult of my age and height, I am for the most part healthy and shall quite possibly torment my town with my warped presence for decades to come.

But it goes beyond the usual 'I'm thankful for my family, friends and health' routine.  Don't get me wrong, I am totally sincere in those declarations, but I would be remiss to neglect mentioning a few other reasons I have for being thankful.

I am thankful for my dirty house, for even in its disarray it shelters us from the elements and offers protection from a sometimes dangerous world.  It also shelters the world from us.

I am thankful for running water which I all too often take for granted.  People who know my Oompas should be extra thankful for running water.

I am thankful for 24 roll economy packs of Charmin... I think that needs no explanation.

I am thankful for Folgers in my cup.  Everyone at work is thankful for Folgers in my cup.

I am thankful that we can't afford TiVo because Dickidoo is bad enough now with real time channel surfing.  I would probably have to seriously hurt him if he ever had the ability to not only change channels but to rewind and fast forward as well.

I have always been thankful that odors have no taste.  Sometimes I long for a taste of a fragrant flower, but then one of the Oompas farts or takes off his or her shoes, and then I remember... 'Oh yeah, I sure am glad I can't taste that!'

I'm glad Uncle Sam never married because we owe him enough as it is, goodness knows how much he'd want if he had a wife and kids to support!

I'm thankful that there is no mail delivery on Sundays.  That is the one day of the week that doesn't increase our debt/income ratio.

I am thankful (so VERY VERY thankful) for sleep overs... at other people's houses.

I am thankful for the National No Call list.  I would be extra thankful if politicians would be included in that.

And last but definitely not least, I'm thankful that Al Gore invented the internet so I could start this blog and meet all the very super uber cool people I have here.  Thanks Al, you're the greatest!

BRONCOS and fairies

I am depressed.  The Broncos lost to the Chargers last night.  But that's not why I'm depressed.  I'm depressed because while the Broncos will be playing the Kansas City Chiefs on Thanksgiving, I will not be watching the game.  Why?  Because the game will be broadcast on the NFL Network, which is not included in Basic Cable.  No, that comes with the 'bronze package', which runs another $14 a month.  I think the NFL and the cable company are playing dirty ball just to get more money from the fans, not COOL!

That's okay though, I will give up my hero Champ Bailey for the equally bald and very funny Howie Mandel in a 2 hour special of 'Deal Or No Deal'.  Who knows, this may be the start of a brand new Thanksgiving tradition!

Got a call from Gabe last night.  It doesn't look like he'll be able to make it out here for New Years after all.  He also mentioned that he may be going back out a little bit sooner than we thought.  I hate to admit it, but I'll be so glad when his enlistment is up.  I'd love nothing better than for him to be working back at the boobie bar... maybe even with his little boy living near by too.  (hint hint Kayle!)

The girls have been making little flower petal fairies to give as gifts.  There are fairies every where.  Its like a little fairy infestation.  Too bad neither of them thought to make a 'dirty dish' fairy, or a 'laundry' fairy.  Sure could use a couple of those around this place.

OH HENRY!

I've been feeling sorry for Henry, the Goldfish lately.  He needs a mate.  If you've been a reader here for a while you may remember Henry as being a prime suspect from the Great Aquarium Massacre.  (the story begins here and goes on through February 2005). He is the lone survivor from an inter-species school of 9.

How do you tell the sex of a goldfish?  I tried peeking between his fins, but he wouldn't stay still and he stared unblinkingly at me like I was some kind of fish molester.  I didn't want to put another sex-unknown fish in with him for fear of renewed fighting, so I did the next best thing... I bought him some dried baby shrimp!

Henry has never had shrimp before, only flakes, raw venison (which he loves!) and of course his tank-mates, which he also loved.  Shrimp was a new taste sensation for him and after spitting them out a couple of times, he swallowed them whole.

Later, when I walked past his acrylic sided domain, he waved lazily at me.  I placed my finger again the side of the tank in greeting but rather than swimming over, wagging his tail like a puppy as he always does, he merely waved again from the center of the tank.  He was so full he could barely move.

That was when I saw it.

Henry was giving birth!

Wait, Henry COULDN'T give birth, he was by himself and to my knowledge there is no such thing as self impregnating fish.   I moved in closer and the goldfish turned away shyly, giving me a better view...

Congratulations Henry, its a shrimp!

SICK AND TIRED, but mostly just tired.

I couldn't sleep last night.  I kept waking up.  The clock was running slow for some reason and the minutes stretched on for hours.  I finally gave up, reset the alarm for Dickidoo and got up.

I looked like a chihuahua, with big buldgy eyes.  I gulped my coffee like a fish in water, grabbed a granola bar and went to work.

I should have stayed in bed.

I forgot to spackle my face.  Everyone at work thought I was sick.  Good grief, do I really look that bad without make-up?  I'm sorry, but 3am is a little early to be putting mascara on, especially after a sleepless night.  I was just happy that my shoes matched.

My fingers didn't work for most of the day.  Everything seemed to slip right through them.  I spilled coffee on my smock and down the side of my jeans.  I was a mess, but I smelled delicious! 

Barefaced, over tired and under caffeinated.... a very BAD combination.  Fortunately, unlike my alarm clock, the time clock at work was running fast and I made it home safe and sound.  I think I will have another early night this evening. 

JUST ANOTHER .COM DAY

(I wrote and posted this in another blog over a year ago... hmmm, not much has changed really.)

 Wake up... grudgingly, (but then I remember the computer and I bounce out of bed.)

 Do my 'duties' in the bathroom, (quickly because the computer calls to me)

 Turn on the computer (this is a manuvere that can be completed in the dark thanks to a cyber-magnetic homing device in the tip of my right index finger)

 Pour a cup of coffee while waiting for Windows xp to load.  (too bad the computer doesn't load as fast as the coffee brews).

 Log on to AOL.

 Experience a feeling of peace and well being.

 Read e-mails from children who must forward any requests for funding or mediation.  This is the preferred method of communication since volume can be controlled and screen names can be ignored or deleted if need be.

 Read emails from spouse and wonder why he is fwd'ing a link to getajob.com.  Can't he see, I'm too busy to get a job!

  Check my horoscope so I know how I'm expected to behave today.

  Check lotto numbers to see if I'm a multi-millionaire yet.

 Realize that I am NOT a multi-millionaire yet.  Delete shopping cart at Macy's.

 Search for German bbq recipe to use for supper.

 Accept the risk of 7 years bad luck for deleting another Little Tommy chain letter.

 Consider ordering from the spammed penile enlarger catalog and switching them with spouse's One A Day vitamins just to see if it really works. 

 Log off as spouse's car turns up the driveway and turn on dishwasher to simulate work in progress.

 Intercept spouse on landing with beer and a promise to bring supper down while he relaxes on sofa infront of the TV.

 Rush upstairs and toss some frozen hotdogs into a pot on the stove.

 Log back on to AOL.

ONE LESS FRUITCAKE

The world will be minus one fruitcake this Christmas.  Marie Rudisill, aka The Fruitcake Lady on The Tonight Show, died in Florida on Nov. 3, 2006. She was 95 years old.  I never had the pleasure of meeting Miss Marie.  I would have loved to share a conversation with her.  When I saw my first clip of her, the first thing I thought of was 'Hot Dang!  I want to be just like her when I grow up!'  Well, I still do.  Rest in peace Miss Marie.  I miss you already.

NBC on YouTube

A CALGON MOMENT

I never thought the day would end but it finally did .  I rushed home to enjoy a moment of peace before 'they' got home and turned the brief tranquility once again into chaos.

I open the door and close it softly, as if afraid someone might be alerted of my presence, but there is nobody else at home.  I sit down with a sigh.  All is quiet with the exception of the wind outside the window, blowing through the trees and sounding so much like the waves on the ocean that I miss so much.

I close my eyes against the stark fluorescent glare of the light bulb and imagine myself on a distant beach, my bare toes burying themselves in the sand.  I can almost feel the gentle rays of the sun warming up my chilled skin.  The faint scent of coconut oil and salty sea air teases my nostrils.  I sigh again, this time with contentment.

(bang, bang, bang)

?

(BANG, BANG, BANG!)

'Mom, can you hurry?  I have to go BAD!'

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

Have you ever tried to walk with one foot asleep? 

Okay, now, have you ever tried to walk with two feet asleep?  I guess it would be funny... if I were watching someone else doing it, but it was me who was walking like a puppet, bouncing against the sink and walls, trying to keep from falling, so no, it most definitely was NOT funny.

And...... I will never never EVER buy another thong.  At least with regular panties I know almost immediately if I have put them on sideways... in fact I don't think its even possible to put them on sidewards.  I hate thongs!

p.s.:  (this one's for Heather)

WISH BOOKS

When I was a little girl I would impatiently wait for the Sears Christmas catalog to come in the mail.  My sisters, brother and I would flip straight through to the toy section and put our initials next to the toys we wanted just in case 'Santa' happened across our catalog and needed help selecting something for us.  As I got older, the Spiegel catalog became my new wish book.

Now... its the Cabelas catalog!  Within those pages you can find just about everything imaginable in camouflage.  Including... underwear?  I asked Dickidoo why anyone would need camouflage underwear, and do you know what he said?  So nothing can see you when you have to 'go' in the woods. 

Hello Dickidoo... wouldn't you have to pull down those camouflage drawers to 'go' in the woods, or do you plan on going 'through' them?  And then your big white butt will stand out like a full moon at midnight... unless you get a camouflage tattoo all over your buns.  Hey yeah, there's an idea!  A camouflage butt tattoo!

My other favorite catalog is the Swiss Colony catalog.  Oh my gracious, the stuff in those glossy pages!  The cheese, the sausages, the chocolates, the luscious desserts, the petit fours (my personal favorites!).  I haven't been able to afford to order from them for a couple of years, but I look forward to getting the catalog every year.

In this age of technology we have full color online catalogs available to us at the click of a button, but there is something extra special about curling up on the sofa surrounded by kids as we dream and drool over the colorful pages of a holiday gift catalog.  Later I will browse more leisurely on my own, and no doubt I will find the Oompas initials next to something that caught their eye.  This year there is a big 'J' next to a deer pattern silverware set.  The corner of the page is also turned down because sometimes 'Santa' has a hard time getting subtle hints.

(Happy Birthday Daddy and George!)

NEW BRONCO FAN? and thong warning

I was the designated driver to the show last night.  Dickidoo wanted to loosen up with a bit of alcohol so he could try to go under.  The whole way down he sat next to me in Big Red making his new leather Steelers jacket squeak and creak.  I didn't mind because I wanted him to get hypnotized and then I would turn him into the biggest Broncos fan in the state of Colorado!  Alas, it was not to be, he just couldn't relax enough.  That's okay, it won't be long before the Steelers are no longer the current Super Bowl champions and I won't have to hear about their 'greatness' (Oh puh-leeze!) any more.

A quick observation before anyone runs out to buy a thong that is two sizes too small.  You can't fart while wearing a thong that is two sizes too small... it is physically impossible.  I recommend briefs following a Mexican meal.

Hey, AOL... now that I've been crowned as 'Most Humorous Journal', don't you think its about time that you add the word 'fart' to your journal spell check?

UNDIES

I bought a new bra today.  That makes 2 this year.  Its pretty.  Yeah, its pretty BIG!  My size would probably be more appreciated if my cups pointed upward and outward rather than downward.  Grrrrr......  And guess what else?  I bought a thong too.  You know... those skimpy things that go between the cheeks rather than over them?  (butt floss)  Did you know that just by purchasing a thong rather than a brief, I was able to get a panty 2 sizes smaller, cool huh? I could probably cut my jeans size by 2 sizes as well but I don't think the public is ready to see me in buttless jeans.

Dickidoo got his Christmas present early.  We gave him a leather 'Steelers' jacket last night.  There were two reasons for that... 1) I wanted him to enjoy wearing it while they were still Super Bowl Champions, because lets face it, there's no way they're going to the championship this year. (Go BRONCOS!)  and 2) So he will remember to buy me a Christmas present this year (before Christmas is passed!)

We're going to see the hypnotist tonight.  I keep hoping Dickidoo will get hypnotized, I could have so much fun with him.  Wish me luck!

THE VETERAN

Each year the nation celebrates Veteran's Day with parades, picnics and department store sales.  I would drop spare change into the collection bucket set up by the local DAV chapter as I left the grocery store with my bags full of holiday bargains.  The volunteers often sport the insignia of the units they served in during the various wars, their dog tags dulled by the years, their remaining hair silver, their once tanned skin now weathered with age.

This year the 'veteran' takes on a whole new face for me.  This year the 'veteran' is a young dark haired man just out of his teens.  He wears blue jeans and tee shirts.   He's only been in the military 2 short years and yet he's already done and seen more than most men twice his age.  He laughs freely, but there is a shadow that remains in the depth of his eyes, eyes that have seen what no man should ever have had to see.  His hands that have been trained to kill hold his son with endless tenderness.  I am the daughter of a veteran and the wife of a veteran.  I am now the mother of a veteran.  In the past I always showed my respect for the soldiers, the sailors, the airmen and marines... but I never really gave it much thought.  I never wondered what they saw, what they did, how they felt.  I was comfortably detached.  I sent a husband to war and rejoiced in his safe return.  Never did I dream that I would one day send our son to face the same enemy.

Veterans, be they young or old, tall and straight or bent with time, regardless of age, color or size, have answered the call to serve their country beyond that of the average citizen.  They have taken up arms and faced the enemy, knowing full well that each passing moment might be their last.  Many have lost friends, some right before their eyes.  Some have suffered serious injury.  Some have lost families during their absence yet still they served.    When they say 'I pledge allegiance to the flag,' they know what it means and they mean it.  They would have, and some still might, die for their country. 

 From a very grateful American, I thank you Steve, Gabriel, Daddy... and all of the Veterans.  Your patriotism is greatly appreciated, always.

LETTER FROM THE DUST BUNNY CLUB PRESIDENT

WHOOPA!

A big 'THANK YOU' to everyone who voted for the Dust Bunny Club of North America as the 2006 VIVI AWARDS MOST HUMOROUS JOURNAL.  I was running against some very wonderful writers, several of which I read regularly with great respect and admiration, so to come out the victor is just that much more special to me.

Congratulations to all of the winners:  2006 VIVI WINNERS

A very special thanks to everyone behind the scenes that made this all possible.  I shall positively float on air for the rest of the night, which isn't an easy thing for someone of my fluffiness.

Thank you all so much. 

NEW PHOTO OF THE GRAND-OOMPA

Isn't this the most precious little Oompa you've ever seen?  I can't wait to hug and squeeze and kiss him.  Just two more months now and all my dreams will come true.  I've been trying to think of what I want him to call me... 'Grandmother', 'Granny', or maybe 'Grandma'.... I think Dickidoo is more of a 'Poppa' than a 'Granddad'.  Truth be known it really doesn't matter to me, all that Little One would have to do is look at me and I'll come running. 

I bought Little Zack and his cousin Cyrus a couple of big fuzzy Boing balls.  They're soft fluffy round pillows that make a'boing'sound when they hit something.  My plan is to have the little guys make so much noise between now and then that Zack's mother and other Grandmother will be very happy to send him over to my place for a week in order to get some peace and quiet over at their house.  Wish me luck. 

CREEPY CRAWLERS

There is something very un-nerving about having a huge black spider watching you  from below the tank while you're sitting on the toilet. 

As most people know, spiders have 8 eyes, which would lead one to think that spiders have good eyesight when in fact they don't; but did you know that they smell with their feet?  I guess you could say then that they have 8 noses as well.

Which makes me believe that this particular porcelain dwelling arachnid probably isn't the brightest bug on the planet to be spinning a web beneath my tuffet.  Can you say 'eeeeeeeeeek!'?

I can, very loud and profusely!

p.s.:  Thanks go out to everyone who sent me a copy of the alert they got from my original posting of 'Dispundit' this morning.  I was having a  'Dorn ' moment and posted it unedited, then deleted it before I saved a copy.  While the email alert only included the first few sentences, it was enough for me to regain my train of thought and redo the entry later in the day.

DISPUNDIT

I voted yesterday.  Did you?  I had to stand in line to sign in and get my ballot... there was one person in front of me.  It was a tall gentleman, whom I will call #134.  He asked a lot of questions.  He didn't know his precinct.  He had to be told step by step how to fill out his name and address card.  He even tried to walk away with the registrar's pen. 

When the indignant registrar retrieved his pen, it was my turn.  The first thing I had to do was produce identification.  I have voted in 3 different states over the years and have always had to show proof of identification so I'm still baffled as to why suddenly this has become an issue of discrimination.  Nobody else in the polling area seemed to mind the requirement.  I think certain nega-ticians are just looking for an excuse to have a re-count should the need arise.

As the registrar searched the list for my name, I admitted to him that I wasn't sure which precinct I was in.  He gave me a weary smile.    His assistant gave a laugh that didn't really reach her eyes and informed me that I wasn't the only one today to say that.    The registrar came to Dickidoo's name and looked at my driver's license then up at me to verify that I wasn't Steven.  'Thats my husband,' I informed him, 'I'm probably on the next page'.  I wasn't offended,  I was just happy I was in the right precinct. I was voter #135.  (The number 135 probably stood for the amount of people who had no idea what precinct they were in.)

I took my mile long ballot and went to the end of the line of voters waiting their turn in the row of voting booths lined up at the foot of the Elementary School cafeteria / auditorium stage.  I glanced confidently at the ballot for I knew exactly who I was going to vote for.  Then I saw the other candidates.... judges... These guys I hadn't known about.  I don't know anything about judges!  I haven't had to deal with a judge since Gabe went to court 6 years ago for that bb gun incident!

The Teacher's Pet stood behind me and waved an ink stained paper napkin at me.  "I have a cheat sheet." she boasted.  I smiled but inside I hated her because I didn't think to do the same thing.

When it was my turn, I  hurried up to the booth and went to work doing my civic duty.  I vigorously filled in the bubble next to my choice of candidate for governor, shaking my booth and in the process shaking the entire line of flimsy voting booths.  I smiled apologetically at the woman next to me.  She was not very accepting and gave  me an accusing glare as she hid her ballot with her arm.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but this is an election, not an exam!  I'm not going to cheat by copying off of a stranger's ballot!  And even if I did, that should be considered a good thing because it would mean that the candidate would get more votes and a better chance of being elected! 

I was doing great for the first couple of races, but suddenly I was tossed a curve ball.  American Constitution Party?  Huh?  Who the heck is that?  Green Party?  Libertarian Party?  Good golly, where did they come from?  And the county elections were crazy... there was the usual ones, the race for Sheriff, Commissioner, Secretary and Treasurer... but then it started getting weird.  Surveyor, Assessor, Coroner?  Why do we have to elect who gets to figure out how dead people died?  I half expected to see a nomination for County Janitor on the ballot.  (Gabe used to sweep the County Coroner's office!)

When I finished coloring in my ballot, I dropped it in the counting box and walked across the room, past the growing line of fellow Americans who had come to cast their votes.  The line consisted of crisp suited business men, dust covered construction workers, sharply dressed professional women and their equally important Stay-At-Home Sisters... there were college students and coffee shop waiters, there were Soldiers and Airmen.  Even the election workers clad in Red, White and Blue and warm smiles came in a variety of sizes, shapes and backgrounds.  A diverse group of people for sure, with one thing in common, they CARE!

Now that the results are in am I happy?  Well, lets just say that not all of my candidates were victorious, but I am hopeful that the change will be for the positive.  DummyCrats, RubbishCans, Red, Blue or Green... Constipation Party, Librarians, 'ItDepend-ants'   It doesn't really matter to me the party, I pretty much detest all politicians now days, but its not about the politics, its about the results. 

A hearty 'thanks' to all of you who took the time to vote, regardless of your political affiliation.  Here's to a bright future for the country.

DUST DUMMY CLUB

Did anyone get an alert for my lastest (and deleted) entry entitled 'Dispundit'?  It was a work in progress that should have been on my test journal but the idiot that I am... I posted it on Dust Bunnies... and then I deleted it when I realized the mistake... without copying it first!  Grrrrrrr!  I hate when I do that!

If you got a copy in your alerts would you please send it to me so I can edit it and repost it, please?

COLD BUNN

This is the 2nd oldest oompa, Zachary.  He likes living dangerously.  He has a death wish.   For the 3rd day in a row he has unplugged the Bunn-Omatic Brew-Omatic so that he could plug in his computer, and then forgot to replace the coffee pot plug when he was finished.  I even reminded him last night when I saw him on the computer... I warned him to plug the coffee pot back in and he assured me that he would remember.

He LIED!

This morning I woke up to a cold Bunn!  There's nothing worse than to get up at 3am on a cold November morning and discover that your Bunn is cold!  It would take 20 minutes to heat the reservoir up before a fresh pot of coffee could be brewed.  20 minutes is a long time to be without coffee on a cold November morning.  The mind can think of many creative and painful schemes for revenge against the one who would make it wait 20 minutes for a cup of coffee on a cold November morning.

Zachary has two options:  buy a power strip so he can plug his computer and monitor in without unplugging my Bunn, or play Coffee Roulette and risk learning first hand just exactly what my caffeine deprived mind thought up this morning while waiting 20 minutes on this cold November morning for my Bunn to heat up.

Evil little Oompa Loompa!

UPDATE:  After composing this entry in my test journal, I took Zack down to the store to get the power strip for the kids computer, and while we were there, he bought me... not 1 but 2 boxes of truffles!  Okay, maybe I layed on the guilt trip a little bit.  And maybe I mentioned truffles more than 20 times during our shopping trip, but that doesn't matter.  What matters is that I have 2 boxes of Russell Stover's elegant gourmet truffles.

Sweet little Oompa Loompa!

TALKING TO MYSELF

A rare interview between My Reflection and Myself.

MY REFLECTION:  You blog frequently about farting, bathroom habits and other socially unpopular subjects.  Why?

MYSELF:  I blog about my life.  Sometimes an occasion will come up where I feel compelled to mention certain events.

MY REFLECTION:  And you think that your readers want to hear about your farting or bathroom experiences?

MYSELF:  I don't know what my readers want to read.  I just write what I want to write.  You'd be surprised how many people have similar stories to share.  As for farting, everyone farts, they just don't always talk about it. 

MY REFLECTION:  Is there any subject that you won't blog about?

MYSELF:  I won't post strongly religious entries because those are very personal to me.  I try not to bore people with my political views, and I will not mention anything I wouldn't want my kids to repeat because they tend to have big mouths.

MY REFLECTION:  Do you consider your blog 'Dust Bunny Club Of North America' to be a work of fiction or non-fiction?

MYSELF:  Oh, absolutely non-fiction!  The names and places have not been changed to protect the innocent or guilty.  I do use nicknames, but these are nicknames that we actually use in real life.  Yes, I really do call my husband 'Dickidoo' when I get irritated with him.  I have referred to my children as 'Evil Little Oompa Loompas' for years.

MY REFLECTION:  So your portrayal of yourself as a coffee chugging, Corona swigging, chocolate loving, housework hating huntress is accurate?

MYSELF:  Make that chocolate truffles and yes, that would be accurate.

MY REFLECTION:  You have several blogs, why do you need more than one and how do you find the time to run so many blogs?

MYSELF:  Well, besides Dust Bunnies I have a photo blog, a blog I started for my oldest son while he was in Basic Training and kept it up during his deployment in Iraq.  I have a hunting blog and a few others that are pretty much abandoned.  Having multiple blogs with different themes limits the amount and length of my posts and I only post entries that I think pertain to the readership of the particular blog.  Lately the only blogs I've posted on are Dust Bunnies and my photo blog.  Life tends to be very time consuming.

MY REFLECTION:  Most of your entries are light hearted but some are very emotional.  Why do you mix these entries?

MYSELF: Life isn't always funny, therefore a blog based on my life cannot always be funny.  If people find my entries entertaining then I am happy but sometimes bad or sad things happen.  I mention these moments in my entries just as readily as I do the good times.

MY REFLECTION:  Not everyone who reads your blog are relatives or friends.

MYSELF:  No, the majority of my readers are known to me only through their comments to me on my blog.  A good many of them I now consider friends.  I don't think I've lost any friends because of my blog yet... I think that is worth mentioning.

MY REFLECTION:  What would you describe as the most positive experience you've had that can be directly attributed to your blog?

MYSELF:  The emotional and spiritual support I got from my readers during my oldest son's recent deployment in Iraq was amazing.  These people saved my sanity, and gave my son vital encouragement when he was doubtful about the general perception of his mission by his fellow citizens.  I also found, to my relief, that when I mention that I had done something stupid, there is almost always at least one person who has commented that they have done the same and suddenly I don't feel so stupid any more.  I think I'm the only one who chases farts to see if they steam... or if not, no one is admitting it.

MY REFLECTION:  Any negative experiences attributed to your blog?

MYSELF:  It was a little hairy there for a while when my husband first started reading my blog and made the connection between him and the 'Dickidoo' I often referred to.  I created my 'Boobidoo' nickname to ease the tension.  Unfortunately my body grew into the nickname and now I really am a boobidoo, whose belly sticks out more than my boobies do!

MY REFLECTION:  What or who has been your inspiration for your blog?

MYSELF:  My family is my inspiration.  Sometimes what I eat gives me inspiration, but mostly its my family.

MY REFLECTION:  What do you hope to gain by sharing your blog with the public.

MYSELF: Money would be nice, but not probable.  Actually, the main purpose of my blog is to keep my family and friends up to date with the goings on in my family.  It sure beats having to write numerous individual letters.  This way my parents can keep track on who was worse, me or my kids.  I also think its a great tool as far as recording our family's history.  I've been blogging here for almost 3 years now and enjoy going back and reading the older entries. 

MY REFLECTION:  Whats next for you and your blog?  How far do you plan on taking it?  Maybe a book deal in the future?

MYSELF:  Hahaha!  A book about a farting, chocolate truffle gobbling, beer and coffee guzzling over weight middle aged woman with an equally over weight, middle aged husband living in a messy house with 5 ornery children?  Hardly best seller or Oprah's Book Club material.  Maybe a comic book, yes, I could see a Dust Bunny comic book, or even a cartoon but nothing bigger than that.  No, I think the Dust Bunny Club will just stay here online where it belongs, among other farting, chocolate loving, beer and coffee guzzling, chore dodging, dust bunny raising blogger like me.

BATTLE OF THE SEXES

GRUDGE BOWL:  Boobidoo 30 - Dickidoo 20

Every year when the Steelers and the Broncos play against each other it becomes the Grudge Bowl pitting husband and wife against each other as their teams duke it out at the scrimmage line.  After I was forced to listen to the Bronco's game on the radio last week while Dickidoo watched the game in comfort in front of tv downstairs in the den, the grudge match was no longer about football.  It was the battle of the sexes.

And naturally the better spouse and team walked away victorious with Denver scoring 31 against Pittsburg's 20.  Dickidoo got brief satisfaction by retaining control of the remote and flipping over to the  NASCAR Dickies Dickidoo 500 through out the game, causing me to miss several precious moments of my team totally stomping his team.

Once upon a time Dickidoo and I used to be able to lay together on the couch and snuggle. Obviously the leather couch has succumbed to extreme shrinkage over time. Today during the Grudge Bowl was not a cuddling occasion and so we lay in opposite directions but it was a tight fit with limbs overlapping.  I ended up with my feet underneath Dickidoo's gas valve and warned him not to even think about farting on me.

Did you know that farts can be induced by the mere mention of the word?  I know that now. 

COSTUMES, tire thingies and Oompa-proofing

 

These are two of the Oompas dressed up for their Halloween parties.  People are always remarking how beautiful my girls are, and I have to agree that they are indeed beautiful, but only to look at.  Once they open their mouths the illusion is lost and I find myself wondering what I had ever done to deserve children like them.  (Okay, don't say anything Mom and Dad.... I wasn't asking you!)

Dickidoo hasn't fixed my leaking tire yet.  I just keep filling it up as it gets low.  I filled it up as soon as I got home on my lunch break.  Did you know that there is a little screw that keeps the pressure in the air compressor and if its too loose, the compressor will not pump any air?  And did you know that if you hold the nozzle of an air compressor to your tire thingie and no air is pumping through the nozzle that you will merely release the remaining air from the tire?  Did you know that it takes less time to let all of the air out of a tire than it does to put the air back in?

I know all of that... now.  Grrrrrr!

This weekend we start child-proofing the house in anticipation of my Grand-Oompa's visit at New Years.... Woo Hoo!

LET THE VOTING BEGIN! (may the best dust bunny win)

               

Vote 'Dust Bunny Club of North America' as Most Humorous AOL Journal 2006!

I stand for:

* Freedom to fart in public!

* Guilt free uni-brows!

* Procrastination recognized as an acquired skill and not a weakness.

* Super Bowl Sunday should be a federal holiday.  If I have to work, I want double time!

* Chocolate as the 5th main food group.

* Tougher laws against nose picking while operating a moving vehicle.

* 'Fat' is the new 'thin'.

* 'Gray' is the new 'blonde'.

* Bloggers should be recognized as talented, creative writers, not labeled as 'computer addicts' and 'geeks'.

* Grandparents right to hug, squeeze and spoil grandbabies!

* Parents right to privacy in the bathroom... Nothing is so important that it has to be answered mid stream!

* Leaving the bathroom without any toilet paper should be a crime punishable by jail time.

* I believe that if it can wait, let it wait. 

* Why wash when you can toss... disposable is the new 'china'.

* Stupid people should have to wear a sign around their necks and a tag on their cars so others can avoid them.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Click here to vote:  VIVI AWARDS POLL

Polls close on November 6th.

Thanks for your support. 

My name is Dornbrau, President of the Dust Bunny Club of North America, Most Humorous AOL Journal, and I approve of this message.

Fine Print:  You must have an AOL or AIM screen name to vote for Dust Bunnies.  Screennames are free if you vote for Dust Bunnies.  You can only vote for Dust Bunnies once.  However you can get your friends and family to vote for Dust Bunnies, and they can get their friends and family to vote for Dust Bunnies, etc.  Polls close on November 6 if you're voting for Dust Bunnies.  If you plan on voting for one of the 'other' blogs then you should wait to vote until after the 6th, like on the 7th or 8th, or even later would be fine.  If you need help chosing a worthy candidate, just ask me, I'll gladly help you decide.

NEW AGE POLITICS:

Posi-tics, Nega-tics and Stupi-ticians

Is it just me or is anyone else about sick of all of the mud slinging politicians?  Campaign ads filled with decades old dirt dug up to discredit an opponent, more than the candidate's own qualifications and proposals.  Dude, I don't want to know why I shouldn't vote for 'him', I want to know why I should vote for 'you'.  Convince me with positive incentive.  Tempt me with plans for improvement and achievement.  Don't assume that just because you can prove that the other guy is the 'bad guy' that you automatically become the 'good guy'.  You'll have to prove yourself to me to earn my vote.

And then there are the Stupi-ticians.  I'd have to award Senator John Kerry as the Stupi-tician of the Year for his latest botched joke.  I'm not going to repeat the un-funny remark because its too painful even for me.  I will say that I believe he didn't mean it the way it was taken.  I knew right off that it was a dig at the President.  I also knew that the Republican's would jump all over the mistake like piranhas, and they did.  However, it wasn't the screwed up punch line that won Kerry the honors of Stupi-tician of the Year.  It was his unwillingness to apologize afterwards to the troops whom him may have offended.  Actually the troops were probably too busy with their mission in Iraq to even notice the slip up, so the media played the clip over and over and over.... until everyone WAS offended, and now its snowballed into a huge controversy.

What Kerry should have done was say something like 'Oh crap, that came out wrong, what I meant to say was that Bush is stupid and now we're stuck in Iraq'.  But he didn't.  Instead, he just kept on talking himself deeper and deeper into the ground.

So Senator Kerry, here's some free advice,  apologize to the troops for any offense they may have taken from your dumb joke, and then repeat after me:  "I will never attempt to tell another joke, I will leave the jokes for the trained professionals because I am not, have never been, nor will I EVER be funny! "  Now, if you could just keep your foot out of your mouth.........

I shall be so glad when the elections are over and all those stupid campaign commercials go off the air.  It would be different if the guys who make the Super Bowl commercials were to make the campaign commercials, with important messages like how beer will be free if we elect candidate A,  or a Tailgating Rally with Candidate B while the Colorado State 7th Place Marching Band Champions Mesa Ridge Grizzlies played 'Pirates of the Carribean' in the background.  I'd probably pay attention to them if that were the case.  And maybe if the candidates were to get official endorsements....

"BUMS, the Official Antacid of the Republican Party!"

"LifeTime Condoms, because goodness knows we don't need more Democrats on the planet!"

You know, I might actually enjoy that kind of 'Posi-tics'... if it were ever to catch on.  Its really not that far fetched, a candidate running for office stands up and gives a speech about positive change he or she would make if elected... What a novel idea!

TRICK-OR-TREAT RAIN CHECK

Do you remember me stating earlier in the month, right around last payday, that I had only $7 in my checking account after my various expenses?  Halloween candy was NOT in my budget and so it fell upon Dickidoo to provide the sugar fix for the plague of midget monsters that were due to descend upon our house at 6pm sharp.  After being married for 22 years, some of my habits have inevitably rubbed off on to him.  Unfortunately 'procrastination' was one of them.  He waited until after work on Halloween day to shop for the sweet treats and apple cider that we serve every year.  The consequences:  limited candy selection, the last 3 gallons of cider in the county (we usually serve about 5 gallons on Halloween night), and loooooooong checkout lines!

The invasion began early this year.  Our first ghoul showed up at 5:30.  Can you imagine how embarrassing it was to tell the little pint sized Goblin that we didn't have any candy yet and to please come back later?

Zack decided to be the 'treat giver' rather than to harass the neighbors like his siblings.  I think he really enjoyed passing out the candy... Kids would rush up to him begging for candy, he'd toss them some, offer their parents something hot to drink and 'Presto Amazo!' instant hero!  Oh yeah, its easy to give kids hands full of candy when you don't have to see them morph into sugar crazed monsters, only to crash hard and become sick, whining demons that have parents vowing never to let them eat candy again... (Until next Halloween.)  

We didn't light the outdoor fireplace this year because I was too busy making last minute costumes and Dickidoo was too busy with his shopping and chauffeuring the Littlest Oompa to rendezvous with her friends.  Several visitors looked sadly at the fire pit sitting dark and cold on the corner of the porch as they shivered in the 30 degree night air.  They forgave our negligence due to the fact that for the 11th year in a row we had steaming hot apple cider on a table for them to warm up with.  Next year though we will have the fire going, no matter what.  And we will have our treats ready early so we never have to endure the sad (and sometimes pure evil) looks on the kids' faces when we hand them a Trick-Or-Treat rain check instead of a piece of candy again.

Becca made a little goody bag for me from her plunder.  It was a brown lunch sack full of my favorite chocolate.  Thanks Becca-Bee!  Now please excuse me while I gobble down my chocolate and transform into a monster only to later crash off my sugar high and morph into a sick and whining ghoul... But I will be a happy sick and whining ghoul.  Yay CHOCOLATE!