It's Like Whatever

The weird ramblings and random streams of consciousness of a sometimes lucid woman.

Wednesday, August 04, 2004

My Perspective

Lately I've come to realize that I the way I see things is different than most people. My interpretation of what people say is, ummmm, askew. For instance, I went to the dentist today. His office is on the seventh floor of the Medical Dental Building. To get to that office I need to use the elevator. Upon the elevator door opening there was a cute girl with a white smock on who pushed the button for the third floor. I said "hi". She smiles back. Up we go. Between floors she asks me if I am going to her office? My response "No, I'm going to see Dr. Bicuspid. He's on the seventh floor". "Oh", she replies. So we stop at the third floor and I realize that she was kindly, in a round about way, telling me the to get to the seventh floor I would need to push the seven button. As she exits I call out, "Hey, now I get it!". DOH! The door closes and embarassed me pushes the button and, ta da, I'm there!

Another example of my warped understanding (or most often, misunderstanding) would be the beginning of a sentence in the above paragraph "Upon the elevator door opening . . . . ". While typing it, I began to think of the opening as a noun, not a verb. Then there is the word upon. Brain says "someone is on the elevator door. No, no, it means that there is an opening in the elevator door". Damn, you brain. Get it right! It's shit like that that makes me think I'm going bonkers. And it's happening more and more. So forgive me if I drool on the keyboard, slack jawed and incoherant, like someone on thorazine. The brain is under construction!

And now, a message from our sponsor . . . . .

I keep hearing this commercial on the radio for Coke. The premise is that Bradley's mom, Mrs. Patterson is at home waiting for him to come home from soccer practice. She's probably cooking a pot roast and baking cookies. Friend One comes in and says "Hello?" Mrs. Patterson asks "Bradley is that you?". "No, it's me Greg". "Oh, hi Greg, Bradley's still at soccer practice. Do you want to wait for him?". "Thanks. Hey, can I have a Coke?". "Sure. You know where it is." . . . More and more of Bradley's friends come in to wait and they all want Coke. They announce that Bradley isn't going to be home for awhile. "He said for you to go ahead and order some pizza." Then, here it comes, the slogan, "A house full of Coke, is a house full of friends" Well, duh!

STOP RIGHT THERE! Maybe I'm crazy, but in my mind is a very different scenario than what the Coca Cola Company is trying to pitch. I'm not thinking beverage here. No! Flashbacks from the eighties are what's playing in the movie screen that is my mind.

Here is Roxie's version -

Outwardly Mrs. Robinson is the paragon of good family values, a devoted wife and dedicated mother. She is the PTA president of her son's school, goes to church every week, volunteers at the local hospital, donates blood once a month, gives money to the needy and loves kittens. Little does her family know of her dark secret . . . The "Other Mrs. Robinson" is a pimp, runs a drug ring and is the connection to the local high school dealers. Right now she's waiting for her boy toy "Stud Monkey" to show up and make crazy jungle love with her on the kitchen floor.

Knock, knock . . . . .

Boy Toy - "Hello?"

Mrs. Robinson - "Hey, Stud Monkey? Is that you? Mr. Robinson won't be home for awhile. Let's get it on!" (She's all breathy and sexy sounding)

Boy Toy - "Yeah, whatever. Got any Coke?"

Mrs. Robinson - "Oh, baby, you know where it is (on the mirror in the bedroom). "

Cue skanky 1-900 porn music.

More "friends" show up . . . "Mr. Robinson is gonna be real late 'cause the old bastard had a heart attack playing soccer. Got any Coke?"

Mrs. Robinson - "Sure, you know where it is. You can help yourself. But first Mama needs a little lovin', from you, and you and you."

The Friends - "Yeah . . . ummm . . . okay. Dude! Since Mr. Robinson won't be home, let's get some grubbage, then party all night!"

Mrs. Robinson - "Okay, Boys! Bring it on! But don't forget to call your parents and let them know where you are."

Mrs. Robinson leads her little Stud Monkey up the stairs, slap his buttocks then proceeds to dress him up like King Kong and do the wild thing.


Okay, okay, I know it's sick and wrong. But I can't help what pops in my head!
I think it's time for a Pepsi One.

Friday, July 02, 2004

Did I Hear That Right?

As a parent I hear the strangest sentences coming out of my mouth. The brain fails to monitor the stupity of my words, therefore allowing them to escape my lips. Fortunately for me, no one seems to notice. My people are accustomed to my wierdness. That is probably why I love them so much.
My husband, Chip, is also prone to such verbal accidents. I usually just stare at him, or laugh, or walk out of the room shaking my head. Head shaking usually is the smartest path to take since I can be a very cynical and bitchy broad.
Last night I heard this sentence reverberating from the back of the house: "Put away your goggles and underwear". When hubby entered the room my comment was "that was a very strange sentence". We both laughed hysterically. That's what tired, over-worked parents do.
Keeping the wierd sentence theme in mind, I'm trying to think of some others that amused me in the past . . .

Why can't I wear two pair of underwear at the same time?

You can't eat your apple with a straw!

I want cheese balls!

Why won't my penis go to sleep?

I just wanted to pet the fish. It loves me. (Consequently the fish was loved to death, literally)

It is funny to note that all of these involved my youngest child, Putti. He is an absolute joy . . . and an odd duck, like his parents.

Friday, June 18, 2004

The Camera's In The Mail

Well, well, well . . . here I sit, happy as a clam (how do you really know if clams are happy? ESP? Do you "talk with the clamimals?"). Anyway, after another long night of eBay hell I have decided to give up on the bidding crap and just "buy now". I found the camera I wanted with a lithium battery charger kit and a tiny little memory card. The little package is enough to make Dimples a happy camper. The seller of the camera lives in Seattle, which is close enough for my comfort zone. I feel safety in their nearness. The war is over. There were no casualties. Life can return to normal. Now I can clean my house with abandon and in the evening have an actual conversation with my darling hubby, Chip.

My best friend, Sista had a good point about the camera. Will I let Dimples use it? Hmmmm . . . the girl's got a point. Knowing that she may have a valid concern I have had a liitle talk with me and we have decided to just be cool. If the thing drops, falls in a puddle of mud, gets backed over by the car (like my dust buster did) then I will say nothing. In the event that any of these things happen I will go directly into the bathroom, shut the door and scream into a towel (so as not to be perceived as freaking out). Then I will return, offer sympathy and help and try to make everything okay. End of story. My theory is that if I worry about it, what I fear the most will probably happen. If I don't worry about it the "perfect" camera will work until Dimples is 104 years old.

I'm just happy that it's a done deal.

Say Cheese!

Thursday, June 17, 2004

The Sniper

I am pissed . . . really, really, really pissed. I feel the need to vent my frustration before I do something that will have me wearing orange for a long, long time. So sit right back and you'll hear a tale . . .

eBay, that's where it all started. After doing hours of research to find the camera of my son's dreams the choice was between two cameras: Fuji Finepix A205 or Kodak Easyshare CX6230. I read a bazillion reviews, adjusted my price range and even spent some up close and personal time with the cameras at Best Buy, Circuit City, Fred Meyer and WallyWorld. It was at Wallyworld that I found "the" camera. I fondled quite a few, checked out their options and ease of use. While holding the Kodak Easyshare a light shone down from heaven and that music that you hear when the light shines down from heaven ("clean up on isle 9") rang through my head. After dodging a falling price, I exclaimed "THIS IS IT, THE ONE!". My search is over, my son's birthday will be complete. Tears of joy almost streamed down my face. Feeling satisfied, I returned to work knowing that all was right in the world. Now all I had left to do is find it cheaper on eBay.

Naive eBay virgin that I am (or was) I was to find that getting what you want for the price you want isn't as easy as it would seem. I found the cameras I wanted to bid on. Then I checked the sellers reviews and shipping prices. Ta Da! There it was! I took the auction by the horns and wrangled a sweet deal on that camera. During the entire auction I was the winner. Riveted to the computer I watched the auction up until the last minute. The bold green words that said I was the highest bidder were blazing before me. One minute left. Oh god! It was so exciting, almost orgasmicly so. Heart racing, stomach knotting, palms sweating . . . less than a minute left. Butt raised off the chair, ready to leap up and do a victory dance, my bold green turned to fine red. What the hell just happened here?!!! For ONE more dollar, during the last fucking 10 seconds of the auction some asshole stole my son's gift right out from under me. I hate that asshole, whoever they may be. The eBay virgin was raped by some heartless bastard. Will the emotional scars ever heal?

The following morning I lamented to the computer/eBay addict at work and was informed that there is a name for that. That name is "SNIPER". So here I go again. Only now, as Bugs Bunny would say "This Means War!". This time, however, I will be the one hiding in the bushes, with a powerful scope on my "piece", waiting to snatch away the precious camera with a one dollar bid. I'm kicking ass and taking names people!

Time for a little target practice!

While making drugs . . .

Today at work I was doing a task where I get to work and daydream at the same time. Of course I came up with the most brilliant subjects to blog about - men and their "afflictions", stinky towels, my wonderful children, funny, oh so funny crap that would make you laugh your ass off. But, alas here I sit at home and, like corn through a goose, the ideas have quickly passed. I will press on and try to come up with some weird, random shit, which is really all I think about any way.

Okay, I was driving home and passed a strip joint. It said "all NUDE dancers, 24 hours a day". This made me think about wierd, random shit. Like for what purpose do certain things have?
Such as . . .

1. NUDE pantyhose - Why? Who likes these? If you want to be nude, don't wear them, duh!!

2. Low carb or "light" beer - Again, why? If you want a buzz you have to drink twice as much. Then you get bloated, have to pee a lot, spend twice as much money and feel guilty to boot. I say just get what you like in the first place . . . or if the buzz is what you're after, find the brew with the highest alcohol content and drink on an empty stomach. Problem solved!

3. Spike heeled shoes - In my opinion these have no reason to exist, unless . . . want to look like you're walking on a tight rope with a wedgie, enjoy excruciating pain or want to be perceived as a ho. They are stupid and wrong and were probably invented like a man. By the way, if a man likes them let him wear them!

I was pondering this question today. Can a yogi stick their head up their ass? With the contorted, pretzel like poses that I've seen, I think that "Whooping crane with head up it's ass" is plausible. Ha!

Tuesday, June 15, 2004

The Gift

My middle son "Dimples" will be turning nine in a few weeks. He doesn't want much for his birthday, just three things. Here is the list. Correction, this is his list for me. You see, he has one for me, each set of grandparents and my best friend, who always finds the perfect, cool thing. So here is MY list:

1. Shield Soaker squirt gun
2. Pokemon Crystal Game Boy Advance Game (got it off ebay)
3. A digital camera

Item number three has caused me two sleepless night. The reason, I want to give my sweet boy exactly what he wants - a camera that can take movies, take "nature pictures" of birds flying and snakes slithering and he would like the pictures to not be blurry. This is quite a tall order when you only want to spend fifty or so bucks (which is so not going to happen). So, even though it's a lovely evening, I will be spending my time finding the ever elusive, perfect gift.

Happy, Snappy, Hunting!

Tuesday, June 08, 2004


Well, here I go. Where I end up nobody knows. This is my first entry of what will probably be many. Of course I feel on the spot, like I should write something really witty. But, at the moment I feel embarassed, the feeling you get when someone needs to use the only bathroom in the house while you are trying to pee. Then knowing that your child is holding their "wee-wee", jumping on one leg with the other crossed above the knee crying "I've gotta go, NOW" your bladder becomes incredibly shy and you sit there . . . wishing . . . you . . . could . . . just . . . pee. Yeah, that's kinda how it feels.