Friday, December 30, 2005

For me

I compose entries in my head, where they are memorized and typed at a later date. I am backlogged at the moment. As a common courtesy, I like to comment in others' blogs before I get to my own, but all these entries are going to disappear if I don't start getting them down.

Sometimes, I have to write for me.

The other night, Chris' childhood friend and his family came over to visit. His son got along fabulously with Kade. In fact, Kade played with him so well, a thought came into my head. He would have made a great older brother. He just didn't get the chance. New Year's is almost here. From then on, I think I will probably be emotionally AWOL. It just goes that way. Before the holidays, I snap at whomever has the audacity to piss me off. After the holidays, I'm unfocused, absent-minded... consumed with selfishness over something else. I can't go around blaming every bad mood on that. I guess it would surprise people how much I am still affected.

I have good days and then I have days that are like the bowels of hell.

I don't like to talk about it, because honestly, no one wants to listen about that. No one knows what to say. I don't even know. And to be completely honest, I really don't feel like listening to what they have to say. I keep it mostly inside. So that others don't have to be a part of things I go through. It's mine and mine alone. I like to keep it like that.

The world goes on without me, while I'm still stuck on that day.

He would have been three years old. He would have been walking and talking. I never once got to hear him laugh. I never once got to see him look back at me. I never got to hear him cry. All these simple things that people take for granted -- they're all things I never got a chance to share with him. And it kills me inside sometimes.

All those hopes and dreams wrapped up in a tiny little bundle. Laid to rest in a small white coffin. I think a part of me died that day.

Embarrassing picture tag

I'm finding it really hard to get back into the swing of things. I have gone through and read a lot of blogs, but I haven't yet got around to posting comments. I'll get there, I promise, I'm just off my routine. Anyway, I've been reverse tagged by Chris, who wants me to find an embarrassing picture of myself. To tell you the truth, I only have a few and some of those are a little riske. So no, I'm not about to put THOSE on here. So I dug back farther and found one from childhood.


You have to remember that this was back when Michael Jackson was still cool. Note the glove on my hand. Yeah. I so used to imitate any type of dance I saw. So this is me at Kade's age, gettin' my groove on.

Laugh all you want, I was damn good.

Now I have to reverse tag Jodi and Promise. Don't blame me girls!! It's all Chris' fault!

Thursday, December 29, 2005

Five weird things about little ole moi

I've been tagged by Promise and Jodi to list five weird facts about me. As if you already didn't think I was weird enough. Great.

  1. If there is a bag of multi-colored candy, there are certain colors that I eat first. For example: M&Ms... I eat the red ones first, because everyone says they give you cancer. That's not nice to say. So I eat them first to make them feel important and to defy the stereotype. If it's Runts... I eat the bananas first.
  2. I am anal about playing RPG's. I have to finish every sidequest and get every single pickup that one can get. If I miss one, I have to start over until I do get it all. It really helps if you go to the bookstore and buy the cheat guide. Which I do.
  3. Like Rebecca, I have a hard time with odd numbers. Numbers ending in five are okay, but any other odd number is bad bad bad. Especially nine.
  4. Unlike most people, when I get angry, my words get longer. It's an offensive strategy. The longer a word I use, the more it will disrupt the flow of the argument until I am the only one that knows what the hell I am saying.
  5. I cuss like a sailor. My husband was a sailor and sometimes he gets embarrassed by my mouth. I accidently cussed in church once. No one said anything to me. They're way too nice. Secretly, it felt really good to cuss in church. I didn't even get struck by lightning or anything.

I now tag Charles, Chris and Char because all their names start with CH. Pretty cool, huh? Also, I'd like to tag Eric because he has a great name and also, he has a pretty coo blog that I'd like to pimp out. I guess I'm supposed to tag one more... hmmmm... Ok, I'll tag Tawnya, because I've never tagged her before. So there you go.

Wednesday, December 28, 2005

That's So Wrong

After hours of trying to get all these things to work, finally I have done it! Heh. So here's another That's So Wrong segment for your viewing pleasure. I should note that some of these images are not suitable for children. View at your own risk.

My mother will pee her pants when she sees this.

I don't wanna know what he's doing.

Think you've got it bad?

Try working at this job!

Ick.

Yes, it's a belly button.

Don't even think about it, My Chris.

Some of these videos were sent to me awhile back, but because I couldn't find a place to host them, I couldn't get them in the entries. I found a place that will host them, but you have to download the actual file yourself in order to view it. Sorry. (The first, fourth, fifth and sixth links are like this.) Also, my mother brought it to my attention that she cannot view the videos. I figured out she was using dial-up. So if you're on dial-up, it's going to take a long time for these to load. Again, I apologize, but I don't know any easier ways to do this. Eventually, I'll get these loaded onto my own domain, so we don't have to worry about that, but until then, so so so sorry!

Video Links

This entry is dedicated to all the contributors: Celeste, Penny, Chris and My Chris

Monday, December 26, 2005

Recovery

What were we thinking? In our infinite wisdom, we decided to travel to the Quad to visit my aunt, then head over to Peoria to visit the in-laws. Now if you don't know, the Quad is exactly three hours from here and then Peoria is an hour and a half away from there. And then it's three more hours to drive home. This meant that we woke up at five in the friggin' morning to get up, get ready and head out.

Somehow, I managed waking up before the birds. We did our travel to the Quad with no problem. It was on our way to Peoria that the strangest thing happened. We were on the entrance ramp to the highway, when two cars ahead of us swerved to the right. The first car had motioned the second car to pull over. I thought maybe one of them was having car trouble, so I looked out to see what was wrong as we slowly drove past. The driver of the first car threw open his door and began running like a bat out of hell. I can't describe the look on his face, only to say that there was definitely fire in his eyes. It was shocking, so shocking, that Chris pulled over too.

Something was not right about this. Why was he running to the second car the way he was? It wasn't just anger, this was rage. So I peeped back to see what was going on. The driver of the second car lowered his window to see what the first driver wanted, only to be pummeled by the first driver. Yeah, driver of car A began beating the driver of car B. Then driver A noticed that we had pulled over too. He ran back to his car, jumped in and drove away as fast as he could. All this happened before my husband could even get his door open.

Chris, being the fast thinker he is, wrote down his license plate number. Driver B pulled up alongside us. Chris gave him his cell phone number, so that when they called the police, he could be a witness. I should note that driver B and his passenger were both elderly, which just makes this scene all the more shocking. I made sure they were okay, before we headed back onto the highway.

Five minutes later, a state trooper called us on the cell phone so that we could give a statement. The great thing was that I'd gotten a good look at driver A and his passenger, while Chris had gotten a good look at the make and model of his car. So we gave good descriptions. The trooper told us the story matched and that he'd be putting out a warrant for the guy's arrest.

The really sad thing is that I'm sure driver A would have done more to driver B had we not pulled over as well. Once the guy knew there'd be witnesses, he ran/drove away. Thank goodness he didn't have a gun. I have no idea what started all this or if it was just a case of road rage, but that's no excuse to beat an elderly man.

It's a day later and honestly, I still can't wrap my mind around the whole scene. And it was Christmas to boot! So much for good cheer, eh? Strange people.

After that, we did have a wonderful evening with the in-laws. My mother-in-law fixed a fabulous meal. Kade sang some carols. It always amazes me at how outgoing and extroverted he is. He didn't get that from me, I'll tell ya right now. I am always very shy around groups of people.

Needless to say, we did manage to get home by six in the evening. I was asleep before nine. That NEVER happens. I was exhausted. Today, I plan on resting up. Unfortunately, Chris cannot join me, as he had to work today. Poor guy. Don't worry, I'll take care of him later, hehe.

I hope all of your holidays go smoothly and peacefully with no road rage drivers to mar your season. I wish you all a safe and happy holiday season.

With much love,

Ari

Friday, December 23, 2005

Bring it on, Santa

Thanks to Astaryth, who has put up a link to the Norad Santa tracking radar, my son is now in his room cleaning away as fast as his little butt can.

*smiles sweetly*

After all, Santa can't come bringing gifts to a little boy with a dirty room, now can he? Yes, I'm evil. And yet... I've not ever gotten a stocking full of coal...

Honestly, it's because Santa knows I'd be out coal-chucking at cars that drive by my house. It's all about perception people. A bag full of coal could be the most fun thing in the world. So the next time someone hands you a piece of coal, think of me.

And then chuck it at them as hard as you can.

Thursday, December 22, 2005

That's So Wrong: Belated-Style

To be honest, yesterday was the last day of school for my son before the winter break. For some reason, my mind had equated that to mean that it was Friday, instead of Wednesday. Duh. Sorry. But I can still put up the That's So Wrong entry, if you don't mind it being a day late. I'm not a dollar short.



Don't fart in a wet suit.

Yeah, I feel the exact same way about bills.

Real life wedding announcement. *sadly shakes head*

Redneck offroading.

Redneck Spring Break.

Redneck Datemobile.

Maude leans in closer to explain all the festive uses for duct tape.

Are you kidding me?


Video Links

Chewbacca Silent Night

And all was right with the world.

Jim Carrey gets in on the action.

How much do you love your car?

White boys can't breakdance, either.

This entry is dedicated to the contributors: Omar, Julie, Chris and My Chris.

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

'Tis the season

It's Winter Break and you know what that means. If you're on AOL, it means that a whole slew of degenerate horny boys will now be let loose to instant message all day long, while their unsuspecting parents are at work. Oh joy.

And if you happen to be female and on AOL both at the same time, chances are you are going to be subjected to the hotactionmales or prettysoccerboys that run rampant during this time. Fun, fun. I, on the other hand, am in no mood to be parenting other people's kids. It's sad and pathetic that they try to disguise the fact that they are pubescent horny fifteen year olds, but it's obvious to us women. No woman is attracted to l33t speak. They're just not. Sorry, it's true. And while we're at it, the answer is no. I don't want to talk about your balls. Or any other of your body parts or bodily functions. I don't want hot male action. I can get that any time I want it. So instead, I will launch into the quickest way to take down a man.

How? I'm glad you asked.

There are two quick ways of bringing down a man. Yes, there is the testicle area. However, most men have grown up knowing that this is the first place women strike, so they have become great at dodging it. Ineffective. The other is a quick jab to the neck. Most men don't expect you to punch them in the neck, so you have the surprise factor on your side.

But this is the internet and try as you might, you won't be able to get your hand through your monitor in order to jab in either of these places. Which brings us to the third method of bringing down a man, or in this case, a non-stop horny teenager. The ego. It's best to strike hard and fast at that ego, so that they'll be so surprised, they'll click the little red x out of this conversation.

For example: "Why don't you wipe the drool off your chin, adjust your protective helmet and go back to sucking on momma's tit, because I have no time for you."

Sure, you may get called a few names here and there, but for the most part, they'll be so insulted, they'll leave you alone. It's always worked for me. As luck would have it, sometimes this works on grown men too.

Now I'm not a feminist, nor am I saying that all men are bad and need to be taken down. Just horny teenage boys. A girl has to have her weapons, that's all.

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

I luff you guys

Well, I'm having a shitty day. Not one, but two different brand new video cards refuse to work on my computer. Great. Thanks. Sonuvabiotch!

I even spent two hours with a tech on the phone, who told me he was sure it was my power supply.

"It's not my power supply, dude."

"Yeah, I think it is."

"No, really, it's not."

"Open it up and let's see."

"Tch, fine."

"What's the wattage?"

"400w."

"OK, it's not your power supply."

"..."

After two hours, he gave up and told me to take it back. It SHOULD have worked on my computer. It's compatible with all my games. But no. So yeah, I'm pretty frustrated today.

But even so, I received a few cards in the mail that made me feel instantly better. You guys know who you are. Thank you! You guys rock. It's funny how seeing a personalized handwritten card can instantly make you smile.

I'm happy now.

Monday, December 19, 2005

Enough is enough

Yeah, I won't be happy until I have it just the way I want it... So basically, I am going to keep revamping this darn thing until it's perfect.

I added a new journal section with a few journals from AOL. If I had visited your AOL journal on a daily basis and you want your link there, let me know. I'll be happy to add it back in. I will be honest and say that I have gotten extremely lax about commenting in journals. In fact, to tell you the truth, the alerts are slowly driving me insane. In my saved mail folder, there are over 2900 emails I now have to sort through to get rid of those alerts. I think I'll be turning them off.

I wish I had an exciting entry today, but to tell you the truth, I just went through line by line of the damn coding to change everything over. Frustrating and yet, there's still more I want to do. It STILL isn't the way I want it.

If someone finds a nicely done graphic of a female face, let me know. I'll even take a damn mime face, if it's done well enough. Fuckin' mimes.

I need to come back to this later...

Sunday, December 18, 2005

Three hundred and eighteen miles of worthiness

Well my Chris made it on the news. Yesterday was another funeral for a fallen soldier. As it turned out, WBC told the sheriff (who in turn, relayed the info the Chris) that they wouldn't be there. And they weren't. That didn't stop Chris from going to pay his respect. So you can go here: http://streaming.news25.us/launch.asp?video=12-17_celebrate to watch my husband give a short interview about why he went. Forgive him for the Grizzly Adams look. It's cold here.

If you want to join the ride to pay your respect or if you just want to find out what it's all about, you can go here for info: http://patriotguard.org/

Saturday, December 17, 2005

The Snail Story

And so it was, that a few summers ago, my mother-in-law gave me day lilies to plant in my planter box. The problem was that I already had a small statue there. So upon contemplation, I decided to move the statue elsewhere, so that I may plant those day lilies inside the planter box. I picked up the statue and quickly set it down on the edge of said planter box in an attempt to get a better grip on it.

Unbeknownst to me, there had been a snail stuck to the bottom of the statue. When I had set it down, I had obliterated it. I went on my way, relocating the statue. I heard a yelp and then a moan. There was Kade shaking his head in disbelief.

"You crushed a snail!"

"I did?"

"Look, it's all smashed and oozing down the side!"

"Ugh. Gross."

"You killed it!"

"Well... I didn't mean to..."

"Now it's dead. You killed the snail!"

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"

"You murdered it!"

Then he gave me a look that was a mixture of contempt and disdain. All at once, I had disappointed my son. I could feel my face getting red with embarrassment and shame... all over accidently crushing a snail.

That snail could have been the hero snail that would be responsible for the relocation and expansion of new snail homes. But I killed it. That snail could have been the lone snail that would unite the snails and slugs into peaceful harmony. But I killed it. So instead, the snails and slugs will now be duking it out in my planter box, over who will get the best meal. All because I killed that one snail. I had single-handedly disrupted the planterbox ecosystem.

I picked up a new snail and gave it a name. I think I named it Snaily. Kade picked one up and named it Fred. I have no idea where he gets these names. I told him that we could race Snaily and Fred up the planterbox, so I set mine at the bottom, while Kade followed suit. And we raced snails. It took awhile, but that was good. By the time the race was over, he'd forgotten that I was a snail murderer. Whew!

Still the look he gave me still haunts me. So I vow that from this day forward, I shall be more careful of what I'm doing in the back yard. I vow that I will no longer kill any snails. I will no longer run outside during the rain to pour salt on the slugs that are making their way to my hastas. I will just leave them alone and lament the loss of my hastas quietly.

And if there does happen to be another murder within the confines of the planterbox, I am totally blaming it on Sasha.

Friday, December 16, 2005

Dinosaurs and Army Men

I went shopping with a preset limit of what I could spend on Kade. If you go to his room and open the door, most likely toys will spill out. He's not wanting for anything, let me tell ya. So he only gets one hundred dollars worth of presents this year. The only thing he wants with all his heart is dinosaurs and army men.

Now if you have one of these boy creatures at home, you probably have already figured out where his mind is going with that one. But in case you don't have a boy, I'll tell you. I have every inclination that he will set the dinosaurs and army men up in an epic battle and use strategic moves that will put all the best RISK players to shame.

I had a toy gun/weapons and Playdoh ban that lasted all of two years. It's unrealistic to shroud your children against violent toys. I've tried. People still buy them for him... and to tell you the truth, even if they didn't, my son and his friend have been known to use the mop and broom as lightsabres. I don't mind, because it's good that the mop and broom get used for something around this house. Kids will figure out ways to have these epic battles. It must come with the y chromosome or something. It's genetically there in all males, whether they admit it or not.

So I bought him the army men and dinosaurs. When I went to check the prices, the dinosaurs were all of 88 cents each. Oh great! Now what I am supposed to spend the rest on?!

And so it was that I was looking at underwear for my son, when some mad shopper rammed into my ass. Which is not hard to do, given my recent ass expansion. But this mad shopper rammed it pretty damn hard, which made me turn around saying, "Heeeeeeeeeeeeey!" There stood my husband with a huge grin. Thanks, buttmunch.

Needless to say, I got him some crazy coo underwear. Which I plan on making Kade open first. For all you needlessly cruel parents, you know where I am going with this. I will adore the excited look on his face, make him open the underwear, watch his face fall in shock and misery. Then he will open up all the other presents, expecting to find the dinosaurs and army men, but they won't be there. So the disappointment will start to set in. And with each present on down the line it will be the same, until he has opened all of his presents. Right before he becomes too dejected, I will wonder if there isn't one more present. Then I will produce one more from a hiding spot and watch as his dashed hopes and dreams start to become alive again. And he will get his army men and dinosaurs.

But I'm sure all you other parents do this too. Right? Am I the only one that is cruel and evil about it? Eh oh well. It'll make him appreciate it more.

Anyway, to combat the violent gifts of years past, I decided to teach him that each life is precious. Even though we may play Cowboys and Indians, he has to understand that we don't condone violence as a way to solve our problems. And I have throughout the years, given him a bunch of little life's lessons. I let him watch the news coverage of September 11th, when he was only three years old. I explained it and watched as he shook his head in shame and disbelief right along with me. At four years of age, he truly learned what death meant and how it feels to lose a loved one. I have taught him not to destroy anthills, to leave the spiders alone, to generally empathize with everyone.

I may have gone overboard, which brings me to the Snail Story. It'll be tomorrow's entry (which meant that this entire entry is being used as a segue, nice huh?)

To Be Cont...

Thursday, December 15, 2005

She said what?!

Yesterday, I sent out packages. Today, I'm sending out the cards. I worked hard on those things. Try as I might, I just could not find non-denominational greeting cards. Meh. Oh well. I think what I put inside makes up for it.

I'm trying to be all happy and giddy. Because if I'm not all happy and giddy, then I will be cranky and bitchy. Trust me, there's a big difference between the two ends of the Ari spectrum. I suppose being giddy at this time of the year is annoying, but it could be worse. I could be breathing fire and stomping around Tokyo. Come to think of it, that kind of sounds like fun.

I just don't want to be unhappy right now. I'll have plenty of time for that later.

I've been tagged by Jodi to list the top ten things I've been known to say. Do I even need to make this list? I think half of you could write this one for me. Heh. So I'll put in a few unknowns to spice things up.

  1. Dude ~ If I had to describe my lingo, it's somewhere between Cali surfer and grunged-out stoner. Not that I am either of these, mind you, but it's the easiest explanation.
  2. Man ~ Said at the end of a sentence, i.e. Hey, man!
  3. Goodness gracious bodacious ~ A polite way of saying "Holy shit!"
  4. Holy shit!
  5. Tittays! ~ No, I won't explain it.
  6. Goober ~ A person that is just a ... goober. I really can't explain this one. Either you get it or you don't.
  7. Uber goober ~ Extraordinarily gooberish.
  8. Coo ~ My son had trouble with "L"s for the longest time. In his attempt to say "cool", it would come out "Coo". So I've just adopted it for myself to say.
  9. Glue ~ Codeword for "I gotta go to the bathroom." I don't hear so well. One day, Char and I were talking on the phone when she said she needed to use the loo. I thought she said she needed some glue. So it's our little inside joke. Only, it's not so inside now... hmmm...
  10. You rock/Rock on ~ I don't think I need to explain it. You do rock, ya know.

So there you go, things I say on a daily basis. One of these days, I'll get around to listing the top ten goobers of all time. I'll save that for another day.

Ciao

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

That's So Wrong: Holiday Edition Strikes Back

Wednesday never felt so good. Unfortunately, my son is home sick, so I've only going to put up a few video links (these take forever to load up unto the ftp space), the rest will be pictures. Giddeyonup and enjoy!




"I said the Schmitt house!"

All right, so not everyone believes in Santa or is in the mood to look at these holiday cartoons. I understand. So this next one is what happens if you've had a really bad day:

Ouch, much?

One for the ladies to gasp at.



Video Links

Okay, I'm afraid that it's for this second edition of the Holiday That's So Wrong. I'm now going to have to go around my house to find any areas that Kade might have puked in. That's so wrong in itself, so it's kind of fitting. Yuck.

This entry is dedicated to all the contributors: Alexis, Jodi, My Chris and Omar.

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Kade's Acting/Singing Debut

I have exactly 26 minutes to get this entry in before I miss a day. It's been a long day, but I have to get this all out, because tomorrow will be devoted to something else.

"I'm going to be famous," he uttered from the backseat.

"Oh you are, huh?"

I looked in the rearview mirror, only to catch a glimpse of pride and something else. What is that? A gleam? In his eye? A twinkle? Yep, there it was.

"I've memorized my lines."

"Let's hear it."

"Gee Hound, I know you're feeling blue. Don't you have a friend or two to help stop you feeling blue?" he recited, with all the right sympathy in all the right places.

"Very good!"

"People are gonna know who I am. I was already famous once when they put my picture in the paper, you know."

"Uh, yeah. They put your whole class in the picture, Kade. Not just you."

"Oh I know, but it's only a matter of time."

That was three days ago. Tonight was Kade's big premiere a.k.a. the second grader's Christmas Play at school. My Chris set up the tripod in the back, then went into cameraman mode and began rushing up to the stage and back to get the good shots. Strangely enough, no one minded. In fact, a few people asked if they could have copies of it.

I stood in the back and managed to get jostled around by the other mothers that had camcorders, but weren't as adventurous and bold as my Chris to actually run up to the stage. So instead the jabbed me out of the way to get a better view. I got a few pictures in. Most of them were blurry. Nothing like getting jabbed to make you lose your grip on the camera. Crazy mothers.

And Kade did so well. He patted Hound on the shoulder and said his lines with perfection. His speech teacher is going to be so proud. The funny part was that Kade was front and center of the group. He made sure to emphasize each part of the choreography (which was mostly made up of simple hand gestures.) It's really cute. If I ever figure out how to get video on here, I'll feature it.

As we got into the car and went home, he reminded us, "I'm going to be famous now."

Sure, kid. Whatever you say. Just don't forget us little people when you make it to the top.

Monday, December 12, 2005

One hundred reasons to talk about myself

You're a winner with me, Rafe!

All right, so I never did that 100 things about me back when it was a popular thing to do. So instead, I'll do it now, when people have gotten over it. That way, I can never be accused of being a follower... even though, Chuck inspired me with his list. So, it's kind of like I'm following his lead. Oh well. Can't be perfect all the time.

  1. I crave sugar sometimes, but I don't like it unless it's in the form of cheesecake.
  2. I only eat cheesecake once, maybe twice a year.
  3. I hate fruit.
  4. I love cooked vegetables, but not raw.
  5. I know it's wrong, but I like getting revenge.
  6. It's a passive aggressive way of fulfilling a false sense of justice.
  7. Plus I'm really good at it.
  8. My mother rushed me to the hospital once, after I'd eaten five consecutive tangerines.
  9. That's a lot of citric acid.
  10. I thought I was having a heartattack.
  11. It wasn't a heartattack.
  12. I hate fruit.
  13. I told my husband that if he ever met that hot chick from Weird Science or Meg Ryan, I give him permission to sleep with them.
  14. It'll never happen.
  15. I hope.
  16. I had a dog named Weezer once.
  17. I bought him a blue shirt that said "Devil Dog."
  18. He was not very smart.
  19. One time, cops showed up at my door, after a woman complained of being chased by a tiny dog.
  20. I declared that it couldn't by MY dog.
  21. The cop gave a description of a dog wearing a blue shirt.
  22. I had no comeback for THAT one.
  23. Stupid dog.
  24. My brother and I can spit grapes a few feet in the air and catch them in our mouths.
  25. One time, we spit the grapes into each other's mouths.
  26. My mother made us stop.
  27. It grossed her out.
  28. That IS pretty gross, come to think of it.
  29. It works with cherries too.
  30. I was extremely shy once upon a time.
  31. That was before I realized that life is all about being in the spotlight.
  32. Ok, it's really not, but I'm hoping that some people with weak minds read this and instantly believe all that I say.
  33. So that I can be their hero.
  34. I tell my mother all my secrets.
  35. She better not blab about them or I'll be pissed.
  36. My brother got into a car accident a few days ago.
  37. He's okay.
  38. He gets into an accident about every six months.
  39. So he was due.
  40. This was the first time he was driving when he got into one, though.
  41. I taught myself how to play the piano.
  42. I am a stubborn person.
  43. I gave up playing when I refused to listen to myself.
  44. I had an 8 track player with a microphone when I was little.
  45. I used to put the Grease soundtrack in and pretend like I was a radio dj playing all the newest hits.
  46. My brother and I played strange games when we were kids.
  47. Like the classic "the floor is lava!" game or "don't let me fall off the couch or I will be eaten by sharks!" game.
  48. We had wild imaginations.
  49. We were playing outside once, when we found a portal that could take you to different dimensions.
  50. We called it the "porch."
  51. Strangely enough, all the different dimensions looked the same.
  52. But we pretended they didn't.
  53. I try to be original.
  54. I hate it when people copy me.
  55. I should be flattered, but I'm not.
  56. Usually, I'm insanely jealous that they copied me better than I do.
  57. When asked about his favorite film, Chris will probably give the title to a war movie.
  58. But that's not true.
  59. His favorite movie is Ice Castles.
  60. I probably wasn't supposed to say that.
  61. At one point in time, I had over sixty different pairs of shoes.
  62. I don't now though.
  63. Weezer ate them.
  64. Stupid dog.
  65. I loved him, despite his stupidity.
  66. I once gave him a bowl of dog food. He ate the bowl and left the dog food.
  67. My mother never let him sleep on my bed.
  68. She said he stank too much.
  69. He did.
  70. I never got him neutered.
  71. It warms my heart to know that there may be a little Weezer Jr. out there somewhere.
  72. I had to give him away after that whole cop incident.
  73. With the exception of my current two dogs, I've had to give away every other dog I've ever owned.
  74. It broke my heart every single time.
  75. Kade acts like he's king and treats the other children as his subjects.
  76. I tell him that that's the wrong thing to do.
  77. But secretly, I see nothing wrong with it.
  78. He IS king.
  79. I have hidden from missionaries when they knock on my door.
  80. I have littered before.
  81. I have done 90 down the highway at four in the morning.
  82. I was going to see Chris.
  83. I don't do those things now though.
  84. A teacher actually had the audacity to give me an "F" once.
  85. It made me so angry that I raised it to a B the next quarter, just to prove him wrong.
  86. I have fond memories of that teacher.
  87. My mother hated him.
  88. Don't say anything bad about me in front of my mother or she'll hate you too.
  89. My best friend and I devise evil plans to take over the world.
  90. For some reason, that usually involves hot pants and boots.
  91. Our plans are ineffective, so far.
  92. I can't figure out why.
  93. I have started dozens of novels.
  94. I'm too impatient to finish them, because I am so excited to read them.
  95. I get pissed off when I get to a certain point and then it leaves me hanging.
  96. I can't read the end, because I haven't written it, yet.
  97. It's a Catch-22.
  98. I want to change the world by making people happy.
  99. Starting with you.
  100. Now smile, dammit!

Ahhhhhhhh finished. This was a rather easy task for me. I find it extraordinarily easy to talk about myself. Go figure. Hang on, I'm not done yet.

Me, me me me me, I I I I I I, Ari Ari Ari Ari

There. Much better.

Okay, I'm sort of sick of myself now too.

Sunday, December 11, 2005

A Letter From Chris

I have a few things to write about today. First and foremost, remember that entry I wrote about the WBC going to fallen soldier's funerals and protesting, calling them names and such? Yesterday, a group of riders banded together to go support the family of one of the fallen soldiers. My husband was one of them. He sat down after he got back and wrote about it. I'm quite impressed with his words, so I think I should share them. I will note that when he speaks of "fleas", he is speaking of the WBC whackos.

Here is what he wrote:

"Tired and frozen (after a long day), I decided to write my report later. Little did I know that it would be at 1 in the morning. Couldn’t sleep with the thoughts running through my head. So here we go.

Started the day early at 4 am. Had to work from 6:30 am to 10 am. After my assistant manager arrived at the store, I hauled it on home to dress for the ride. Only 29 degrees when I pulled my 1100 VSTAR Silverado from the shed. I had a big, thick sheet of ice in from the shed and realized….this may be a long, cold day. I held it upright as I pulled it forward and made it across the ice (5 ft). Lucky? I think not. This mission was destined to happen and I was riding…hell or high water for SSGT Harper, Jr. and his family.

Hit the road to 1030 am. Roads from Quincy, IL to Jacksonville, IL were pretty clear and I made good time. At Jacksonville, I had to defrost the toes and add an extra set of gloves. Hooked up onto Hwy 104 and thought to myself that 50 miles should roll by easily. Never thought about the back roads of Illinois and how snow drifts and covers the road. I came across maybe 4-5 small drifts that were 1-3 inches over the roadway and sure and steady was my hand. Someone was watching over this ride and the pulse in my veins as present and sure.

Arrived in Virden about 1230 pm and passed the meeting place but no one was there. I was late but not that late? As I drove through town, I cursed myself for not ensuring that I had Mapquest’d the schools location. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a huge American Flag waiving in the breeze. Once again, a steady hand eased my bike onto the side street and I approached the “huge” gathering of PGR rides. I say PGR riders because they, members of the PGR or not, were there to honor SSgt Harper and his family. I roar of applause occurred as I pulled in “late” but a sign of support for cold rider and a most welcome thought passed through my mind, I knew SSgt Harper would be proud of this rag tag group of vets, motorcycle riders and Americans. So was I. I dismounted ready for the mission.

The fleas were pushed back onto a grassy piece of ice and snow and at first…..I never even saw them……didn’t even hear them…..just like they were not there. The main objectives were being accomplished. Lee (Rough Rider) greeted me and I proceeded to hand out the few American flags that I had brought. One of the roughest looking bikers that I had ever seen, you wouldn’t want to meet this guy on a well lit street let alone a dark one, grabbed a flag from my hand, put his arm around me and said “Welcome brother. Thanks for being here.” I knew that another mission objective was accomplished. I proceeded through the crowd and shook that hand of all our “brothers and sisters”. After making it to the flea circus, I noticed the line of police officers that prevents the fleas from being removed from the show. I saw several brothers that did all they could to contain themselves from doing the worse thing possible….but… they did the right thing. A member of the CMA (Christian Motorcycle Association) stood on a mini pulpit and read from the bible. He spoke the words that were true and right and just. All this time, I never heard one thing from the fleas. It was like they weren’t even there. He handed me a phony million dollar bill and I sure felt like a million bucks…..even with frozen toes.

I saw the VFW Color Guard proceed to the front of the building and conduct a “twenty one gun” salute to our fallen hero (SSgt Harper) and his family. I bet there were some fleas that didn’t see that coming because…they could not see it coming for the wall of American flags. Rough Rider (Lee) made a call to attention and taps were played. (Still no flea noise.) I guess it became to hard for the fleas to conduct their circus because several members of our military showed up and received a huge amount of applause and the shouting of “America” over the town. I had to get a picture with these men and several other PGR members joined us. The fleas had had too much. They just packed up and said they would be back. The local police had other ideas and escorted them from their respective districts. I guess the police were just happy not to have splattered fleas all over their town of American’s.

I couldn’t have made it through the services (emotionally) and although we were invited back to the family’s homes, I saddled up and proceeded to ride out of town. The temps never got over 32 degrees and I had to fight the same cold and snowy conditions home. Every stop I made, people asked me what I was doing on a day like today, riding a motorcycle. I told them of my mission and about my cause. It was a sacrifice of time and creature comforts. Not even the sacrifice that SSgt Harper and his family were paying. I left each stop with a renewed sense of worth and accomplishment. The snow started and the roads started to ice but my ride and I both were being guided. Guided by a better hand than mine. I arrived safely back to the loving arms of my wife and son.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED – Thank you SSgt Harper and thank you Harper family for your service. May God watch over you all and over my own serving son and daughter.

Chris Brocksmith
Patriot Guard Rider
W. Central Illinois"

The WBC fleas quickly left (there were only six or seven of them protesting as it turns out) when they were confronted with over 300 bikers. I have pictures of the bikers.



















Here are a few of the soldiers that were there for their friend's funeral. They and the family were very surprised and appreciative of all the support. It's amazing how people can come together for a good cause.

I also have been tagged by Char, Jodi, Charles and Promise to do the Ten Things That Make You Happy thing... so here I go. These are in random order:

  1. My husband, who continues to surprise and delight me in many ways. The man never fails to impress me.
  2. My son who has a boatload of hugs waiting for me each day.
  3. My family who is by no means perfect, but I guess I wouldn't have them any other way. Especially my mother for being the best mother ever.
  4. Beef jerky.
  5. Playstation.
  6. Mt. Dew
  7. Friendships and knowing that no matter what, there are certain people there that will always be there for me and vice versa.
  8. A hammock on a hot summer day and a fireplace on a winter evening.
  9. Playing pranks on people.
  10. Making people laugh.
  11. The way that a baby can give you one look and you know for certainty that everything that is right with the world is right there in that cherub face.
  12. Blacktie Cheesecake... and shrimp salad.

Well, I was only supposed to do ten, but I gave you twelve. I feel that I've gone above and beyond the call of duty for that one. I tag anyone that hasn't done this yet. You know who you are.

After reading through Chuck's blog, I've decided that since I never did the 100 things about me, I shall do that tomorrow. I've already got it composed in my head. And we all know how I do so love those lists!

Saturday, December 10, 2005

Dedicated to Jodi



How cute is that? This entire entry is dedicated to Jodi, who is one of the most talented, awesome and wonderful woman I have ever had the chance to meet. She made that! Isn't that so sweet? I had such a terrible morning yesterday and then I got some goodies from Jodi that made me smile. The cool thing is that my husband will appreciate these, too.

It's kind of hard to see, but it says, "I'm not going to vacuum till Sears makes one you can ride on."

The funny thing is that my vacuum just broke. I have a Kirby. If you know anything about Kirby's, you know they are heavier than than hell and parts for them cost a lot. But they are GREAT vacuums. So I took the bag out, thinking that perhaps it was losing suction, because the bag needed to be changed. But no. The hose that feeds into the vacuum bag was hanging on by mere threads. Great.

Fortunately for me, this was easily fixed and it didn't cost that much. For about two weeks, I had a legit excuse not to vacuum, but now that it's fixed, I need a new reason not to vacuum. Heheh. On a side note, it is amazing what a Kirby will pick up. One time Chris accidently vacuumed up my watch. He's not allowed to vacuum anymore. Or do laundry, but that's another story.

The next one says, "A woman's work is never done, so why bother?" I have actually used that excuse before. My laziness knows no bounds.

Last year, I asked for a dish washer for my Christmas present. Any other woman might be pissed to get an appliance for Christmas, but not me. I was like "yeah!" Ok, I'm sort of a bitch, though. Originally, he bought me another PS2. Well, I found the box and jokingly said, "Heh, hope that's not for me!" It was. So then I threw a temper tantrum about getting something I already had. I know, I'm terrible. My Chris was so flustered that not only did I get the dish washer, but I got Angel too.

I'm embarrassed now. He won't let me see this year's present. I asked him if he was sure about that... after all, there's still time to take it back! I'm horrible. Why does he put up with me? I'm so horrible.

I need to stop being such a brat. And maybe work a little bit harder. Whoa nelly, one thing at a time. I'll work on the brat part.

Thanks Jodi!

Friday, December 09, 2005

Sunday Mornings

I'm having a very rough morning. I've been tagged and I will get to that. I just am having a rather difficult time thinking of ten things that make me happy. It's just been a rough morning. It will pass. The best way I know to combat this overwhelming feeling of melancholy is to think of happier times. And who best to help me through than Gramma? She may have died fifteen years ago, but she gave me a lifetime of material to reflect on. So I'm going to reach back, grab a memory or two and write about it here. It's odd but some of the funniest things I've ever written have been when I've felt the worst about life. I guess I need the comedy to help me through.

My Gramma was seriously religious. She loved Jesus. She had a picture of him above this cabinet thingie in the dining room. Jesus could have been an extra guest invited to each meal, for his picture sat before the head of the table. My Grampa was some sort of minister at one point in his life. I think he was some self-ordained guy that declared himself more knowledgable than anyone when it came to God. And man could he preach some fire and brimstone, oh yes he could. Gramma on the other hand was more wise about it, more reverant.

On some Sundays, my mother would wake me to dress me up. I hated getting dressed up because I hated those fancy shoes. They hurt my feet and I would inevitably end up with blisters on the back of my heel. My mother, in an effort to get me to wear them, would tell me that I would get to wear the lacy socks. But if I wore the lacy socks, I had to wear the fancy shoes, for they went hand in hand... err foot in foot? I loved wearing the lacy socks, so I'd give in to wearing those awful shoes, even though they made me so miserable I could barely walk by the end of the day.

And so, dressed up as we were, Grampa would take us to church, just me, him and Gramma. We would sit in the middle of the centermost pew, Grampa and I on either side of Gramma. This was good, because it meant that only Gramma could hush me. Grampa could only give stern looks.

Then the preacher would begin, which meant it was time for me to fidget with everything from the hymn books to those awful shoes, until Gramma had had enough and would tell me to "be still!" Tch, fine. And that's when my eyes would wander to Jesus hanging up on the cross behind the preacher. There he was. Jesus.

Today I don't go to church much. Why? Well, for a multitude of reasons, one of them being that Jesus is too cute. Plus he's the perfect man. He's understanding and forgiving, he loves you anyway. Perfect, I tell ya! What's not to like? I mean, yeah I know, he's the Savior and all, but why does he have to be so darn cute? I am sorry, but loincloths are attractive to me and there he is all up there in a loincloth. And when he's not wearing a loincloth, he has on an easily dispensable robe. If he took off that robe, he'd be naked! Naked Jesus.

Yes, I am going to hell.

"Gramma, don't you think Jesus is cute?"
"Hush!"
"I think he's cute. How long does he have to hang up there? Doesn't that hurt?"
"Ari, hush!"
"Are you going to share the treats with me this time?"
"It's wine, you can't have it."
"Are the crackers made out of wine? One little glass isn't going to hurt me. Why can't I have treats too?"
"Shhhh, now be still."

Then the little trays would be passed around. On the little trays were fancy doilies. On the fancy doilies were little baby crackers. Just my size. Grampa, who was really not known for his table etiquette would politely take one. Gramma would take one next and put it in her mouth in the most reverant way. And then there was me, glaring at both of them.

"You're supposed to share! You just want to hog it all for yourself!"

Grampa would give me the evil eye. Next came the little tiny cups of wine. Just my size. But did I get any? No.

"Boy, I sure am thirsty."

I would catch Gramma looking at me out of the corner of her eye, before she tipped her head back ever so slightly to drink the wine. Defeat. Pure defeat. No wine for me.

"I'm going to tell Jesus you're not sharing with me," I'd proclaim, right before I laid my head down and slept the rest of the sermon out.

That was me at five. Asking my grandparents to supply me with alcohol while I flirted with a statue of Jesus. No wonder they didn't take me to church every single time.

Needless to say, I still think Jesus is cute.

Thursday, December 08, 2005

Winter Update

First of all, I need to say, go here: Detached And Indifferent Expressions. Omar has put the finishing touches on The Darkside Survey. Whew that was a lot of work! But it was very fun and I really enjoyed reading all those answers. You guys are the bestest!

Second of all, I went Christmas shopping today. It was awesome. I bought myself so much stuff! I love shopping. And it had snowed heavily which meant that not a lot of people were out. It was great!

After Kade came home from school, he asked to play in the snow. Here's a couple of shots of Kade and Sasha playing. If you're wondering what she has in her mouth... It's her baby blanket. She takes that thing with her everywhere. It's partially frozen from the weather and still she drags it all over. Crazy girl.


The last picture was after he came in from the cold. Gee, think he was cold much? I had to make him come inside, he was having way too much fun to care that it was freezing.

Basically, if I were a weatherman, my forecast would go something like this: "Stay in, it's frostier than a snowman's nipple."

And that's my winter update.

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

That's So Wrong: Holiday Special


Is it Wednesday again? Wow, time really flies. Feels like I just did one of these. Oh well, life is good. Let's roll.

It's that time of year again, so let me present some That's So Wrong pictures for the holiday season. You probably shouldn't let little ones see the first picture. There's no nudity, but I'm trying to save you from unnessary tears and drama.


Ewwwwwww!


Ewwwwwwww again!


Ewwwwww for the third time!

Video links

I don't think Paris Hilton is even a real person.

Big boys can prance too.

Curious minds want to know!

For people like me that laugh when others have accidents.

Warning: Nudity. My Chris seems to think I'd be good for this job. Yes I smacked him.

This entry is dedicated to all the contributors: Omar, Celeste, Jodi and my Chris. Thanks guys!