Sticks and stones...

Some bratty t'weenaged kid called me a 'b-i-t-c-whatsit' the other day at work. In the first 47 years of my life nobody had ever called me a 'b-i-t-c-whatsit' to my face, and now all of a sudden it's almost as if it's written on a name tag on my forehead because everyone is calling me it.

I accept the moniker with professional pride.

Today is the last day of school. Ironically I'm not dreading it like the past. There's no on going count-down to the re-opening of school posted yet. With the Oompas being older and able to fend for themselves I will probably rarely see them between their busy schedules and my work. It's that way even now. I'm usually still asleep in bed when they leave the house in the morning and they're usually in bed by the time I get home from work.

Not to worry. The Oompas have never observed the sacred boundaries of my bedroom. If Dickidoo isn't lying on his side of the bed while I'm there, it's fair game for the girls and their late night re-caps or sleepy, morning breath conversations with me. Even the boys make a point of staying up on occasion to talk to me.

I feel for the bratty t'weenaged boy's parents because I doubt they will have such fond memories of conversations with him. I've seen him talk to his father and it was laced with profanity, not quite the thing fond memories are made of.

Today is the last day of school. Tomorrow is the first day of Summer Vacation and I am actually looking forward to spending some time with the Oompas. Of course, by the looks of their dry-erase calendar I may have to settle for those late night re-caps and morning breath scented conversations in bed.

More stuff n' such.

Dickidoo is going to California next month for our nephew's graduation. I don't get to go due to inventory, and besides I went on the Cross Country Pajama Party in March. I get to stay home with the Oompas. I heard from a little birdie that Dickidoo has made plans. He's made plans that include me and my cute little Impala. But as most of Dickidoo's plans that include me go, I am always the last to know. Apparently Dickidoo plans on driving my cute little Impala to California, most likely because of it's excellent mileage. And since a few years ago when he bought himself the Hemi for my birthday which coincidentally I can't reach the clutch because I'm only 5'2 and by the way, in case you haven't heard... I'm not very clutch friendly... Gabe gets to drive the Hemi and I get to drive....


The Pimp-mobile!


Okay, I know I'm not fooling anyone, I really want to drive the Pimp-mobile. I'm just wondering how long it will be before Dickidoo shares the plan with me. I'm predicting that if he doesn't read this blog first, he probably won't tell me until just days before the trip at which time he will swear he thought he discussed this with me already.


I'll be posting a new picture of myself... soon? Becca gave me a mid-life-make-over. She cut my hair and colored it. My hair is now just below my shoulders instead of just above my butt... And while it is still brunette, there's no white hair! Okay, so maybe some of the hair is a little (a lot) lighter than others, but it's not definitely, starkly, pure white!


Everyone has complimented me on my new look except for Dickidoo, whom I really don't think has even noticed. And he hasn't said anything about my new figure either. Grrrr! It's a good thing I'm not doing this on purpose because I'd be really ticked off by the wasted effort. As it is I'm just ticked off.


Look at me, dammit! Say something! (hey, easy! Be nice!)


A little boy, maybe 4 years old, smiled at me the other day and said 'Oooooo Mama!', just like that. That made my year.


Maybe I'll get a mohawk and dye it red while Dickidoo is gone, and pierce my belly button (which isn't as big as it used to be!)... think Dickidoo will notice then?


Nahhhhhhhhh, probably not.

Jubi-doo

What happens when a Shit-hound eats glitter? It lays shiny shit. We have shiny shit all over our back yard. Of course it's perpetual shit, Jubi ate the glitter and shat, then ate the glittery shit cos it was shiny and it tasted good(?) And then she shits the glittery shit, and then eats it again and... well, you get the picture.

And I have a shitty but glittery back yard.

Let me fill you in about our not so little basshit hound. For starters she has ADD... I didn't know dogs could have an attention deficit disorder. Jubilee cleared that misconception up real quick. She can't even pee without being sidetracked by a leaf blowing across the yard or a bug flying past. While her paws are some what clumbsy, she has velcro lips which suck in and latch on to anything within 6 inches of her jawls. She may only stand about 2 feet high but has a 4 foot reach. That means anything on the lower three shelves of the pantry, the bread box and the table are pretty much fair game when nobody is looking.

Jubi-doo is highly intelligent and is playing on our simple human minds. She does tricks for us, she can sit, and lay down. She shakes hands and gives high fives. More importantly, she has us trained to give her treats when she performs these silly little antics. But we love her for it and toss her a bacon-bit on command.

She is learning how to howl. So far she only does it by accident. So far it's still cute. I'm sure I will be fussing about it before long, but for now it really is quite adorable.

Summer is almost upon us. The Oompas only have a couple more weeks of school. I'm not dreading it that much this year. Perhaps it is because I'm pretty sure they will be gone most of the time. The girls both have steady boyfriends, and then there's their busy marching band schedule. Art hopefully will have a job by then and between that and time spent with his pink haired girlfriend he'll probably never be around either. Zack is seriously thinking about moving out to New York to help out on my sister's yak farm. And Gabe, who is now working in the same building as Dickidoo, is hoping to be out in his own apartment in a couple of months. My nephew will most likely be rejoining his family back east so it will just be Dickidoo, me....

Oh yeah, and the shit-hound!

1 rhinoceros, 2 rhinocerosesssss....?

There is a Community White Board at work full of important notices, Employee recognition and useless trivia. Two days ago, in the block reserved for useless trivia, was the following: A group of rhinos is a 'crash'. I actually found that interesting. (what can I say, I am easily amused). That little tidbit got my gears turning and promoted more questions, as any good bit of trivia will.

I love Google!

My first question was the obvious. How the heck does one spell the whole word? 'Rhino' only brought up encyclopedia entries for 'rhino'. I had to speed read through several pages to find 'rhinoceros'. Okay, so what is the plural for 'rhinoceros'?

I should have been happy with knowing the correct spelling and the knowledge that a group is called a crash. Wiktionary doesn't even know for sure. Acceptable options include 'rhinoceros', 'rhinoceri', 'rhinoceroi', 'rhinocerotes' and 'rhinocerot'.

Hopefully I will never encounter the need to use the plural for rhinoceros in this lifetime.

Thought for the day: 'Swine flu' is the past tense for 'When pigs fly'. (thanks Art)

Technically retarded

retarded: (adjective)
Delayed in development.

I lovingly refer to my kids as 'techno-geeks'. They are, but it's not genetic that's for darn sure. Dickidoo, in a moment of jealousy, purchased himself an ipod nano in an attempt to keep up with the Oompas. He was entranced by the possibility of having thousands of songs at his finger tip. Being as Mother's Day was right around the corner, he got one for me as well (in purple!)

That was Quarto de Mayo... May 4th. It is now Ocho de Mayo, May 8th. Neither one of us has a single song loaded on our ipods.

Did you know that before you can load music on to an ipod, you must transfer your music to iTunes? No biggie. All you have to do is select 'add folder to library' and iTunes can transfer it all over. It started off quickly, then a little box popped up. Did I want iTunes to convert my .wma files?

Sure, why not!

6 hours and 4434 files later iTunes sent me an error stating that I didn't have enough room in my iTunes library for all of the files (really? it's only 23G or 11 days worth of music... yes, it calculated all of that).

I don't even know 434 songs in my lifetime let alone 4434! I did a quick scan of my incomplete library. iTunes had loaded every sound file it found including little sound effects ( is that what those .wma files were?) When I get tired of listening to the soothing sounds of Kenny G. I can listen to 'body falling in snow' or 'car backfiring'.

4 days later and neither Dickidoo nor I have a single song loaded on our ipods. I'm thinking we probably should have saved ourselves some time and money and gotten portable 8 track tape players. (in purple of course!)