Can You Bring Me Another Bud Light Please?

So..it's Christmas Eve. I've avoided by blog obsession for many days now. I'm convinced that I'm not an addict or a stalker...so I'm back. I've spent $650 on people that are not my husband or children and I'm gonna be honest here...I'm not sure that I'm happy with the return. I know..I know..it's not about getting, it's about giving. Whatfuckingever. I have gotten 2 pairs of Nike's (who needs 2 pairs?), a perfume gift set, $40 worth of OPI nail shit, and 3 bottles of Victoria's Secret lotion. Obviously nobody really cared when I asked for liquor and sex toys. Why even ask? Hmmmm..maybe next year.

I've missed you all very much and will be back tomorrow to update the list. I have to go to the in-law's. Considering they spend 4 of 7 days a week in church, I'm sure it will be much more disappointing than the $100 gift card Visa that my mother-in-law is getting. You can never have too many bibles collecting dust on the bookshelf. But that's ok...it's all about giving.

Congratulations to my very best friend. I know I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but just so you know....Jill is expecting!!!!!!! Totally ruined my last girl's night out, but....yayyyyyy!!! I'm so happy. I can't wait to start buying diapers!

Merry, merry Christmas to all of my blogging friends that I am sure would give me sex toys and liquor if we were close enough that I was on your list.

Let the Drinking of Alcoholic Beverages and General Foolishness Begin

Winter break has arrived. My last night of class was last night and the girls finish school today. I love this break because there are so many people that the girls want to stay with and plenty of time to do so. Not that I don't love my children dearly. It just seems to get a little oppressive when you're a stay-at-home mom. And all of those moms that try to pretend that it is the most wonderful job on earth and they can't imagine why it would ever be frustrating or oppressive....those are the women that are taking their kid's ADD medication with a vodka chaser every morning.

I'm not trying to be a Grinch or deny Jill any Christmas spirit or anything, but...I f'in hate Christmas shopping! Hate it. People are crazy, traffic is insane. Every time I have been out thinking that I would do some shopping, I quit after an hour or so.

Why is Cloe the only Bratz doll that I can't find when it is the only one that I need? I think there is something wrong with the fact that ONLY the blonde one seems to be in such high demand. What about Yasmine? Red hair is cool...and she's got the name.

Any ideas for a new drink for me? I need a new one. I haven't been doing mixed drinks for a while now. I had a margarita phase and last year was a crown and coke phase. I think I need something fruity and fun. I've never really had a fruity and fun phase.

I got mad at my husband a couple of nights ago for....being my husband basically. I told him that I feel like I live in an intellectual abyss. He just looked at me like he had no clue. I said, "Exactly."

What age is appropriate for mascara?

Wow...I'm really random today. I just have that "feeling." I'm all giddy and fidgety. I'm happy that it's Friday. I'm happy that I'm so fuckin' smart. I'm happy about lots of stuff today. Amazing.

Proverbial Thump on the Head

I feel the need to bitch about the stupidity that sometimes runs rampant in this world by pointing out a few idiots today:

Scott Peterson--got himself the death penalty for a little "strange." Dumbass.

Top story on local news in the heartland yesterday: Local idiot got himself killed when a homeowner woke to find said idiot breaking into the phone box outside his house. Homeowner fires shotgun through wall of house as homeowner's wife simultaneously fires at suspect out the window of house. Both struck the suspect who subsequently died because Mr. and Mrs. NRA had to drive down to next home to use the phone to call for medical attention because said idiot had cut phone lines.

The construction guy who forgot to drain the hose to the water truck when the forecasted low temp was 20 degrees: On my way to take the girls to school there were 6 ass-cracks huddled around the large rubber hose beating it with sledge hammers, presumably, to break up the ice. On the way home: water gushing from hose that was broken by sledge hammering ass-cracks. (I'm sure that will add a month to projected completion date.)

Then there are the people that may have seemed like idiots at first glance but when you think about it....

The Romanian Prime Minister is offering to sleep with the wives and girlfriends of journalists on a Romanian newspaper to stop them claiming he is gay.

Edie's first real Halloween. She INSISTED on the dragon. 

Almost Naked Ass Scratching

The following searches brought victims to my blog lair this weekend:
girls almost but not naked
naked girls
the girl code
girls with nice bums (Canada)
girls periods pics
jericmiller

My favorite: "girls almost but not naked." There's something very comforting about that search.

There are men doing construction on the highway near my home. Lots of construction. They are building a new highway. Most days I don't even notice them anymore. They've been there for ages. This morning was quite a different story. I was taking the girls to school as always. There was a youngish man standing in the middle of what is now the old highway, waiting for a random dump truck to come along so he can direct traffic. I pulled up to the railroad tracks and made the necessary stop. As I looked ahead to cross to the new highway, the youngish man caught my eye. As well as Ciera's. This man had his ARM down the back of his pants scratching his ass. Not his hand. Not in the waistband of his pants. His ENTIRE arm down to the bottom of his ass. My not so subtle 12 year old loudly proclaims, "Oh...MY....GOD!" Not just to me, but literally to God. So the youngish man stands there with his deer-in-the-headlights look watching Ciera incredulously vocalize her amazement that a grown man is standing in public with his arm down the back of his pants digging at his ass. He couldn't hear her. That was the best part. He could only see the words as they formed in ultra-slow motion. He immediately yanked out said arm and turned around to check for oncoming dump trucks. No further eye contact. It was so freaking funny. And the best part....I got to drive back by him about 10 minutes later.

Reality Check

Ring, Ring

Me:Hello

Mom:Oh, Hey! Your main phone line is working again!

Me: Yes, Mother. You called me on it yesterday and the day before.

Mom: Well, when I called those 2 times, I tried to call your computer line first and it was busy so THEN I called your main line to get you. Today, I just called your main line first.

Me: Huh? Mom, can you call me back in like 10 minutes?

I just had to put this on my blog to make sure that it was a real conversation and I'm not going insane. So...if the phone rings in 10 minutes I guess I will know that this really is my reality.

Waxing Philosophical Floors in the Building that Houses My Life

I woke up this morning from another dream that keeps me thinking all day long. I'm realizing that I live my life as if the jury is still out. You can read the title of my blog and know that. It's no real secret, I guess. I look back on decisions I've made and believe that, even if they were wrong, I possess the power to reverse them. Maybe that's confidence, maybe it's denial. There are some permanent things in life...I realize that. The way you love your children, inherent desires and needs. If there is such a thing as destiny, such a thing as fate, isn't it just an ultimate culmination of your own choices? I believe I can change things because I have to believe it.

On Tuesday night, I dreamt about someone I rarely dream about. Someone who's place in my mind is purposefully more conscious. Someone who's place in my life is purposefully less concrete. It reminded me of feelings that are always kept at bay and history that always repeats itself. And I wonder if I'm only fooling myself. Those feelings kept at bay...aren't they concrete? If they're always there, they must be subconscious as well. Have I invented a private reality only to keep it from my public reality? I know my feelings are real...in the back of my mind, behind my heart, they're real. Is it only because there was never closure? Was there never closure because there was never really a beginning? Have I schemed, subconsciously..unconsciously, to prevent closure? And does it hold me back or inspire me? Am I dawdling in the sunlight of what-once-was? And what was that sunlight? Was there ever a what-once-was? These are the reasons that I need one of those moments-into-hours of heartfelt exchanges about life and love and fear. And all of the reasons that I don't.

By the way...I was thinking of the way that everyone signs and addresses others with initials lately. It seems so impersonally personal. I think I'll start signing: H to the O to the L-L-Y.

Right Leg, Left Leg..ZZZIIIIPPPP

I'm in a rut. Not a really deep, muddy one. Just a rut. Nothing exciting is happening in my life. Some will say that boring is good. Some will say that an even keel is peaceful. I say, "Where's the fuckin' action?" It's the season, I'm sure. I get into this pattern of sending children to school, attending to the needs of the little one, making dinner, Christmas shopping. One day blurs into the next. I can't remember what day I made chicken because it was the exact same day that I made spaghetti and that was the exact same day that I made pizza. I want to make chicken on the day that I saw the crazy ladies duke it out over the last Bratz doll in Wal-Mart. And have pizza on the day that a naked man was running down the highway in a santa hat. Then I could remember what to make for dinner tonight.

Harder, Harder...Spank Me

I just thought I would try to satisfy the googler who obviously thinks that:
daughter spanked OR spank OR spanking -monkey -secretary -brand -joannie -sex site:blogspot.com
will find something interesting to read and then gets stuck reading my blog. I not only wonder how this google search brought someone to my blog, but what exactly this google searcher was trying to find. Is Joannie the secretary spanking his monkey daughter and he wants to see if she brags about it on her blogspot.com sex site? Many combinations have crossed my mind. Either way...I'm happy to have you, honey..because I am a slut for attention. Feel free to leave a comment or request next time you drop by.

Pull Your Red-Hatted Head Out of Your Eccentric Ass

My mother has this really annoying habit (well, she has many..I'll just speak of one of them today) of attaching herself to random words and devising ways to steer conversations toward the particular word. Each obsession may last a few days up to a few months. Some of her previous fixations have included ergonomic, multi-tasking, authentic...you get the idea. Everyday words that generally have no real intrigue or appeal, just minding their own business...my mother will jump on and ride them until they are dead. When it was ergonomic, she purchased all kinds of new ergonomic equipment. When it was multi-tasking, she would walk around with a headset attached to her phone and a pen behind her ear while doing the dishes or writing emails. So..anyway, for the past couple of weeks her word has been eccentric. She uses it mostly in thinly veiled references to herself, sometimes when referring to people that she considers to be interesting. I've been trying to ignore it as much as possible but last night she got tired of that. Excerpt from telephone conversation at 1 am this morning:

Mom: Have you ever heard of the red-hat society.
Me: Ummm, no.
Mom: Well..there's this lady and she wrote a poem about how when she got old she wanted to wear purple clothes and a red hat. It was a really beautiful poem and so many women were touched by it that they began establishing Red Hat Society Chapters around the country. If you are of a certain age, nearing your senior years, you get together with your friends and wear red hats and purple clothes and hang out. If you're not quite old enough yet, you have to wear a pink hat and lavender clothes. The best part is that you don't just wear any red hat. It has to be a big, gaudy red hat. Doesn't that sound cool?
Me: Do they go to the bar in the red hats and purple clothes?
Mom: I don't think so but I guess they could if they wanted to.
Me: It might be ok if they were going to get drunk. Other than that, I'm not sure I would use the word "cool" to describe it.
Mom: Oh Holly, that's just because you don't want your mother to be considered "old" because you might have to face the fact that you're getting up there yourself.
Me: You could be right, Mom. Maybe I'm totally distraught about being 31 years old, in the prime of my life, and can't admit that my mother is 16 years from being a senior citizen. (For all of you doing the math...she's 49.)
Mom: *laughs*Just face it, Holly. Your mother is ECCENTRIC. You're just going to have to deal with it. At least now you know what to get me for Christmas. But don't get me one with all of the netting or anything. I really want one with a big, wide, floppy brim. I really like those.

It was an "eso es" moment for me. (How do you like those Spanish skills?) I had to listen to all of this red hat bullshit so that she could get around to being eccentric. Ugh...this is an actual chapter from my life. Does anyone else find this disturbing?

I've never been one to work out but I have a new obsession: stripaerobics. I saw Teri Hatcher on Oprah a couple of weeks ago. Of course she looked amazing. She did a little demonstration of what she's learned in this stripper class that is also her only work out program at the moment. I told my husband. He said, "Well, why, who are you going to strip for?" Again...does anyone find my life disturbing?

Thank you for stopping by, Chase. I'm glad you found a way to overcome your computer illiteracy to accomodate me. One of the many reasons that I love you so.