Entanglement

I hate it when it rains. I have two itty bitty Chihuahuas that flat out refuse to relieve themselves outside when it is raining. My female won't even leave the garage. She'll walk to the edge realize it's raining, and tuck tail all the way back to the door. If I pick her up and carry her little ass to the grass she just stands there quaking with a look that says... just shoot me . I've found that my yelling at her doesn't produce a single drop of pee either. Holding an umbrella doesn't work—she's afraid of it. My retarded little male doesn't know how to pee because he covers up her pee, so he has no clue what to do. He just runs around in circles smelling the ground for anything remotely familiar so that he can relieve his tiny little bladder. Sadly, it's quite funny, but also frustrating as hell. I have pretty much quit trying to make them pee in the rain. I went to PetsMart and invested in those "stay at home pads" for dogs that are too ...

Feeling low? Maybe you've gained a few l-b's, and you are feeling badly about the way you look. Well, let me tell you how to fix that. The quickest way to boost your self esteem is to spend the day at an amusement park or a state fair. You will come home feeling downright sexy! I pay good money to go to Six Flags just to people watch. My family gets to have a blast riding roller coasters, and my ego gets lifted—it's great! Nope, no Jenny Craig, Deal-a-Meal or gym membership can shock your system like an ogling at your local fun park. Muffin top used to have one meaning—now it is also used to describe the disturbing, fat, fleshy overhang of skin around a woman's mid section that is usually protruding from her three sizes too small Hollister t-shirt. You know she looked in the mirror before she left her house, and thought she was dressed. She probably thought she looked gooood, too. Really, is that supposed to be sexy in any way? Do men see that and think... man I would l...

Do you remember the very first time you ever had your heart broken? I do. I remember it vividly...all of the anguish, all the disbelief, all of the insecurity, and especially feeling absolutely certain that my heart would never heal. I didn't think I would ever recover, but of course I did. Time heals, right? Right—until the next time, and the next time, and the next time—but somehow that first heartbreak is the worst. It is in that moment that you realize everything you thought you knew about love was a lie. Everything you ever dared to dream about love becomes just that, a dream. So, soon you realize that love isn't anything like you've read about in books, or seen in movies. If it were, there would be no reason to write the books or make the movies. People would just walk around in a perpetual state of bliss and happiness. No one would ever get divorced, it would be utopia, right? Right now I have two little girls whose idea of romantic love is what they read in books an...

My hair is falling out. I'm not kidding. Not only can I tell by the handfuls of stringy brown hair that I see go down the drain in the shower, but I can see it in the mirror. I can see my scalp through the wisps of hair on my crown. It's alarming, people! Baldness is hereditary and runs rampant in my family. Why is it we only think of men going bald? You know you've seen women before who are sporting a comb over, or worse. What's worse than a female comb over you may ask? Dandelion head.  My grandmother educated me about dandelion headed women. She'd say... when I die, don't let your Papaw get with one of them dandelion heads. When you have to go to a beauty parlor once a week to have what's left of your hair spun into a thin, thin cotton candy poof ball atop your head...you have achieved dandelion status. You may have seen these women in church, or trying desperately to see over the steering wheel of their land yacht on the way home from church. Their hair...

My girlfriend brought an advertisement to my attention yesterday that brought about waves of raucous laughter for us, and other like minded twisted minds out there to be sure. Apparently the economy is so bad that plastic surgeons are giving deals on boob jobs. The image of a carnival barker instantly came to mind... step right up ladies...buy one breast implant and we'll give you the second one free...so, hurry, hurry, hurry, step right up... Call me crazy, but I don't want my breasts anywhere near the lowest bidder. I'm afraid I'll wind up looking like a Picasso. I want top dollar titties, and I won't mind paying very high prices for quality work when the time comes. I love these women who go to third world countries for their nip/tucks and come home with a face full of industrial grade silicone, and then complain about being deformed. Are we suppose to be shocked? Are we supposed to feel sorry for them? I mean really... hello , what did they expect? If patient...

More commonly referred to as birthmarks, angel kisses are strawberry red marks seen right after birth and fade with age. My youngest daughter, Samantha, turns nine on Sunday. I wrote this for her. Angel Kisses You were born with angel kisses, The nurses told me so. There's one on your left shoulder, And underneath your nose. The angels up in heaven must have been sad to see you go, So they covered you with kisses from your head down to your toes. They thought the kisses would wear off before I saw your face, But two remained reminding me of God's eternal grace. You are a very special gift from Him you see, Wrapped in love with angel kisses, delivered tenderly. So undeserving and yet so proud, It's my honor and charge to watch over you now. Even though my kisses may not leave their mark, I know that as you grow, you'll feel them in your heart. And so, my Earth Angel I give you all my love, I know we're being smiled upon from angels up above....

Being on a diet sucks. Of course I wouldn't be on a diet if I hadn't gotten fat... again . I wasn't allowed to eat as a child; my mom was afraid I'd get fat. Her fears were well founded because apparently I have the fat gene swimming around somewhere in my gene pool. So consequently when I got pregnant, and was allowed to eat whatever the hell I wanted, my brain suddenly bridged a synapse connection I'd not made in my youth, and I gained 55 pounds during my first pregnancy. Within a year I had lost it, and so, not being completely repulsed by my appearance any longer, my husband knocked me up shortly after my daughter's first birthday. I gained 75 pounds the second go 'round, and kept it on for three long years. Post-partum depression fueled my appetite for processed, partially hydrogenated food. I was like a wild animal entering the grocery store, drooling, snarling, and gnashing teeth as I made my way to the Hostess aisle. I was the female version of Fat...

I was poised at my laptop this morning trying to get my thoughts together for today's blog when my cat, Tiger, unaware that I was "working" jumped into my lap without invitation. He is a fifteen pound orange Tabby with a purr so loud and rhythmic it makes me want to stop whatever it is I'm doing and just worship him, which is always his intent I'm quite sure. I read once that the simple act of stroking a cat for a few minutes every day can add years to your life. So, I have two just in case. I'm all for adding more years to my life as long as they are quality years...(see yesterday's blog). I used to be so stressed and worried about everyday life that I was wired for high blood pressure, stroke, heart attack, type II diabetes, brain aneurysm, or cancer. I did spend a few years in a depressive funk and gained back all the weight (110+) that I lost years ago. Turning forty last year was my wake up call. Life is a gift...let me say it again, life is a g...

I found a gray eyebrow recently. Horrified, I plucked that sucker faster than I could ask... what the hell? Now, my hair started turning gray in my twenties, but there is a little thing called hair color that can fix that in a snap. What do you do when hair that's not on your head starts graying? Pluck it, I say. With my luck, ten more will grow in its place. I'll look like Andy Rooney in another year or two. I can't help but wonder if somewhere down the road I'll have to shave my eyebrows off and draw them back on with a pencil. That should look really attractive with the hair on my chinny chin chin... and what is up with that ?! Forget my expiring eggs...where's my estrogen? I am way too young to have whiskers sprouting from my chin, but there they are all stubbly, black and manly protruding from my face. I pluck those suckers too. Pretty soon I'll have to go have them lasered because they seem to be multiplying... multiplying! Maaan, what an attractive ol...

I think my eggs are about to expire. I'm not talking about the EggLand's Best in my fridge—no I'm talking about the three or four left in my ovaries that are screaming at me to be fertilized. Most women call it their biological clock ticking. I have to disagree. I don't hear ticking I hear those little suckers begging, pleading, and yes, sometimes screaming to couple with a sperm and create life. I have been ignoring their insane request for quite some time now. I drown out their little voices by rationally explaining to them that I already have two perfectly good children who, by the way, have been out of diapers for a very long time. What kind of dumb ass gets pregnant after age forty anyway, I ask myself? Hell, I'll be going through the change in about ten more years. All the more reason for you to copulate, my eggs yell at me.  I brought this up with my husband a few days ago. Usually he breaks into his song and dance routine about: being pregnant, morning sic...

I hate doing laundry. As a matter of fact, I don't know one single person who gets fired up and excited to spend precious time washing and drying clothes...y'all are out there though, aren't you? My aversion to doing laundry can be traced back to years of doing other peoples' laundry when my mom owned a coin operated laundry facility in Atlanta. You would not believe how much you can learn about a person just by washing, drying, and folding their clothes. That is what the service is called by the way, wash, dry, and fold; and it's hard work, people. It's not fluff and fold as some people falsely advertise. Fluff implies some waif in a sexy maid's uniform with five inch stilettos gently caressing your unmentionables. Maybe that's why the majority of customers were men. Imagine their dismay when the woman doing the washing was a five foot, plump, middle aged, cherub with man hands. So, how much do you charge someone to wash their clothes for them? Not e...

Patient : 1) putting up with pains or hardships calmly or without complaint 2) showing calm self-control  I have a problem with patience . I know, I know, lots of people have a problem with patience, but mine is more serious than your average Joe. I think I may be missing the DNA molecule for patience. My lack of patience usually rears its ugly head when I'm driving. I mean, if you absolutely have to use a cell phone while you are driving then it should be mandatory to have a special rating on your driver's license. There are far too many people who shouldn't even be driving an automobile in the first place. What...are they just giving drivers' licenses away down at the DMV ?? Here's an idea, put a cell phone in the hand of anyone trying to pass the driving portion of the test. If they can navigate through the orange cone confusion without a single error all while talking to their boss, mother or best friend then give them a permit; and even that should come wit...

Anyone who has ever lived in or around Atlanta knows that once every three or four years we get a significant snow event. Yesterday was one of those days. I made the mandatory trip to the grocery store for supplies Saturday afternoon with my sunroof open and the windows down—it was 69 degrees. The checkout girl and I scoffed at the prediction of one to three inches of snow, really! Still, there I was buying milk just in case.  What is it about the very mention of the word snow that turns even the most level headed person into a blithering idiot? Perhaps it is the thought of being snowed in with the family unit for days with no electricity. Maybe it's the fact that our thriving metropolis has thirty year old hand me down salt trucks from the tri state area that no one is quite sure how to use. It could be that one driver on the road we're afraid of that insists on going out when they know good and well they should sit their happy ass at home. You know who you are...  So, t...