Caption Contest

I recently added two new things to my life. The first, a Barnes and Noble nook, is a long term addition and I LOVE it. The second, an abandoned kitten saved by my son, is just staying until I can find him a good home but I like him a lot too. Anyway, I took this picture last night and wanted to save it with a really neat caption however my creativity and wit seemed to be a bit lacking. So, I want to get everyone's input on a caption. I've listed a few examples below. Of course, while I call this a contest - the only prize is the honor and pride you can claim for besting me : )

1.) Everyone loves a nook!

2.) Dogs play with the kindle. Cats play nookie!

3.) Dang that icebike, he said this would work... (This is one that only my BN fellow posters will get : )

Post your ideas here or on the BN Board and feel free to have fun with it!


While I was here.....

I figured I would share a few random things from the past several weeks....

Questions asked....

Do they use hormones in bioweapons? They should, mine have been deadly lately. If we can get the enemy to bloat, PMS on each other, and cry at every animal cruelty awareness commercial - we should be able to win any conflict.

At McDonald's, does "Unsweet" tea mean "Ignore the hag and give her the sweetest damned concoction we have".....? It must, because 80% of the times I've ordered it the past month (at 5 different locations covering 3 cities) I have gotten the sweetened version. Of course, that usually means that the next response they will get to "Do you want fries with that?" is..... Well, I'll let you fill in that expletive-filled blank.......

Am I the only sane person residing in my home? Let's see.....I am supposed to - in addition to a full time job, shopping, errands, housework, and bill paying - find the time to remind them of every task yet forgive when they still "forget", know everything but never have an opinion, take care of all their "details" but never interfer with their independence, and last but not least....find evenings spent watching Mr. Deb sleep in the recliner fulfilling and never ever miss that opp in order to pursue my own interests. No, I'm not the only sane person in my house.....I'm the crazy one for living there : )

Emotions experienced...

PRIDE in my 15 year old nephew who is in Memphis, TN, undergoing treatment for bone cancer. He is an awesome example of strength and courage.

HEARTBREAK when watching animal cruelty awareness commercials.

BEWILDERMENT at the state of affairs in today's world. Nobel Peace Prizes awarded based on "expectation"? Ecomonic, social, and humanity crisis all over the world while John and Kate dominate headlines and talk shows? A brain trust of supposed financial and leadership wizards that cannot find a way to provide affordable medical care to the population of one of the richest countries in the world. The number of people who find the choice of a cartoon character tattoo a wise one???????

Quotes pondered...

"Oh, I didn't think about that." The response when the bride of a recent wedding I attended was asked what they planned to do with the 50+ fish they bought, put in small bowls, and used as centerpieces for the reception. I can only say that we hope this ability to process and make decisions improves before she has children.

This last one must be prefaced with a bit of explanation. Mr. Deb and I went out for the very rare middle of the week dinner. We went to a local steak establishment where I always get one of the options from the Kids Menu as it is just the right amount of food to have with several beers (which they serve VERY cold). After our meal, the waitor brought the bill which I looked at first. My meal, because it was a Tuesday, was only $2.99. My beer tab, $12.00. (Wouldn't the Excise Man love that : ) I laughed and commented to Mr. Deb, "I'd be a cheap date if I didn't drink." His response....."At this stage in my life I prefer quick and easy to cheap so drink up....."


First and foremost, I suppose blogging etiquette would beg that I begin this long overdue post with a sincere apology for my absence. So.... I know that it’s been too long....life interferes....computer was broken....I was paralyzed from the neck down.....my dog ate my aircard....whatever.... The important thing is what forced me to find the time to sit down and reach out to my ever-growing following of.....5 people....WTH...damn, that’s sad. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes, my emergency... I NEED AN INTERVENTION!!!!!

It’s true. I am sad and humbled at how far I’ve fallen. It’s funny how utter humiliation and degradation can sneak up on you. Here I am – a 42 year old, intelligent professional. I read a variety of authors. My tastes in music are varied and my loyalty to my favorites is absolute. So, this moring, in the car, and on my way to the office – I find my self vulnerable. I don’t have any of my CDs playing - that’s right, no classic rock favorites of Def Leopard, Poison or Boston, no songs from my new interest John Bonamassa, no feel good soul from James Brown or Percy Sledge, not even music from the Daughtry and Theory of a Deadman concert I will be attending in December. None of my “Knights in Shining Armor” were there to intervene.

No, instead I had the radio on. I want to blame the traffic, a lack of sleep, or the resulting overdose of caffeine, but regardless of the cause.....it happened. I, in view of others, while in my car, on the expressway.....discovered.....I was dancing and singing along with Miley Cyrus....Party in the U.S.A. Me, the woman who tried to have the Disney channel blocked from her TV - who almost physically gags of at the thought of mullets and that old “achy breaky heart” – was “noddin’ my head like yea, movin my hips like yea.” I knew the (so called) lyrics! I was feeling the (oh so not original) beat!

I immediately pulled over and “slapped” the radio off and pinched myself to wake from the nightmare. After a few moments, the shaking and chills stopped. My pulse settled back to normal and my eyesight wasn’t blurry any longer. I slowly edged back into traffic and cautiously turned on Disc 3, Track 7 – Pour Some Sugar on Me. Then a Nickelback song – I was still holding up fine. I started to relax. Bad Bad Girlfriend by the Deadman and I was feeling safe again. Confident even. I arrived at work and was walking in, thinking and convincing myself I could handle this on my own. I was okay....(noddin my) No one needed to know (my head like yea) what had happened. It would be (movin my hips) my own dirty secret. (like y........) WTH.....I was doing it again, but his time in my mind. It has managed to reach and contaminate my subconscious. I have to reach out for help. Call L.A. (Losers Anonymous) or the head of S.W.A.A.M. (Society of Women Against Awful Music)! Call somebody; please.....I don’t think I can live like this....


Weekly Rambling

While I do not have ADD, I have been exposed to those that do and a conversation with them is what this post is going to resemble. I have had a very strange week and thus – when I sat down to put the thoughts to paper – I found them very disjointed and unconnected. Yes, I could have selected one and worked to develop it into a well organized, funny, and sassy post but decided that .....it’s my blog and I’ll ramble if I want to : )

Questions of the Week

Time Served?
If I were arrested for trying to sell or rent my kids on eBay, do you think they would take the hours I’ve invested in raising the selfish ungrateful little snots and deduct them from my prison sentence?

Is that rat wearing a tutu?
I have a co-worker who lives on the east coast who not only raises, but shows guinea pigs as a hobby. Not kidding. At the strangest times of the day, I will get an email from her sharing the latest photo of a long-haired rodent wearing a damned rhinestone tiara. I’m fighting not to cry when I look in a mirror each morning and those damned rats are winning beauty contests!

He in She Form?
Sitting with a co-worker who I thought could be a new friend when it opened its mouth to chastise the working/wife/mother sitting next to me for being angry with her husband because he expected her to get down on her knees (not sure if she meant that literally) in appreciation because he cooked dinner the night before. “You should be grateful you have a man willing to help you out. After all, those things aren’t his job” WTH! Be grateful that he used the food OUR paychecks purchased to prepare a meal for OUR family. I won’t get started on the roles that men/women should or should not share, but I could not believe those words came out of her mouth. She had seemed a smart, modern, independent woman. I was shocked to realize that she was in fact, a he in disguise. I hate getting surprised by those realizations but it’s my fault. I should have guessed when he/she/it offered me her favorite self-help book, “Real Women Swallow.”

Emotions of the Week

Heart heavy sadness over a teen suicide at our local high school. The realization that he saw life as hopeless at 17 years of age is tragic beyond words. A wake-up call to all parents to be involved and sensitive to the drama/stress/feelings/happenings in our own young people’s lives.

Bewilderment at the stupidity of people pulling their children out of class to prevent them from viewing the President’s address on the importance of education. Let’s see – I am concerned about possible political brainwashing from minutes of exposure to Obama (who you may or may not agree with) but don’t worry at all about the influence of hours spent in front of the television, computer, or video gaming system. ???????

Joy at rediscovering multi-dimensional friendships which allow for fun in a multitude of ways, including saying the A, B, C’s. True friends are those that always provide enjoyment and pleasure regardless of how often you get together.

Stupid Quotes of the Week......and my responses

Former Confidant: “You know, Deb, you should always keep in mind that things could be worse. There’s always someone worse off than you if you just look around.” Shut the F up and let me bitch.

Cashier at Hell: “Are you over 21?”
Shut the F up and just ring up my beer.

Any and Every Child of Deb: “Have you washed.....? Can I have....? Did you buy....? Can I go.....? Will you....? Why don’t you....?” Shush
(I try to watch the language with the teens) and go check my eBay account?

Thinks He’s Funny Husband: “Are you a real woman?” Why are you asking th.....put that book down!


He knows me.....He knows me not...

So, today is my birthday. I am 42. Yesterday and this morning, my family and friends acknowledge my birthday, each in their own way. I am feeling appropriately loved. I get to work and a little later get a call from the security desk....you have a delivery. I arrive to see a VERY pretty flower arrangement. I know it is from the kids because Mr. Deb doesn’t do flowers. I can’t remember the last time I received flowers at work and proudly carry it back to my desk. As people comment I respond with “Yes, it is nice when your kids get old enough to send you flowers.” The flower arrangement just screams, “You are wonderful and appreciated.” It is simple yet colorful. It is in a nice clay pot that is very domestic and practical. Sitting on my desk it is the perfect proclamation that I am a beloved caregiver.

The as of yet unopened card catches my eye.... I can see myself reaching for it almost in slow motion just like in a movie when you know something really bad and devastating is about to happen. I pull it out and read....”Happy Birthday, I love you!” and it is signed Mr. Deb. WTF!!!! He sends me flowers for the first time in years and they are damned grandma flowers in a clay pot. I see red and envision an animated picture of him with the clay pot crashed over his head, the flowers resting on top of his soon to be coma induced brain! My feelings of anger soon dissolve into hurt.....and then embarrassment. Here, I receive flowers from my husband and I am being a bitch over what type of arrangement it is.....so over-reacting.... Is this another sign of a mid-life crisis I wonder???? Am I being silly? Superficial? “Who cares...” I scream to myself, “He sent you a damned clay pot!”

My mind is whirling with questions. Is the romance over? Does he find my domestic talents more attractive than my bedroom ones? Does he fantasize about me in house dresses holding a pot roast instead of lingerie holding his meat? What’s next – a crock pot for our anniversary? I decide I’m being silly. I will not be this way. It is a nice and wonderful gesture. I will appreciate and value....... “Yes, from my kids” I hear myself say to a coworker who comments and asks about the flowers. No! I just cannot admit that this is what my husband sent me. My embarrassment fades and the hurts turns back into anger but this time a slow and dangerous fuming..... I begin to think of ways I will let my feelings known without actually admitting that I am petty enough to be pissed over this. The Schick Quattro will first go right into the trash. I will then return to Hell (aka Wal-Mart) and come to bed tonight in a pair of Depends instead of bikinis. While in Hell, I will pick up his beer. “Oh, sorry dear, they must be packaging the non-alcoholic brands just like your regular brand...” This list goes on and on in my mind. I almost don’t hear the DING from my blackberry indicating a text. It is from my oldest daughter.... “Hope you like Dad’s flowers.” I quickly snap a picture of them and send it to her with a message along the lines of...”That was so sweet of him. Aren’t they pretty.” Below is her response....

“What the hell are those?! He asked me to call them in for him and told me to specify roses and lilies in a crystal vase! He is going to be pissed....those are old lady flowers in a boring pot!”

My relief and smile are immediate. I do love Mr. Deb after all and can cancel the order for twin beds : )


Taking suggestions.....

As some of you may or may not know - my birthday is coming up at the end of this month. Inevitably I will get asked the question, "What do you want for your birthday?" I am looking for new and interesting suggestions for my answer. Feel free to be creative....

Bull riding, the armed forces, and cute little rabbits - Where do you stand?

As determined in my earlier post, my pursuit of life satisfaction and happiness is going to have to include dealing with several roadblocks to my being, first and foremost, happy with myself. I decided to tackle one of the largest in my mind....and what some might consider the most superficial....the image I see in the mirror. To those that would judge me as vain or say that image is not as important as other personal attributes, I offer this well thought out response....kiss my arse! (Lovin’ my new UK friends : ) I could defend my feelings with an Oprah-like dialogue about self image, realistic goals, and lifestyles for long term health. Instead, I will say that it is impossible to be happy when you risk personal injury by catching unexpected and horrifying glimpses of a “blob monster” of vintage sci-fi film proportion only to realize that it is the reflection of your backside as you step into the shower.

My goal is to rediscover the Deb of 2 years ago. Find the physical statistics that make me comfortable in my body again. Again, I don’t set numbers as my goals, but feelings. I am on a quest and determined. I start by asking myself the questions below to determine how far gone this woman in my mirror really is...

How’s your stats line up?
Bust versus waist - Waist versus Hips - The elevator's maximum weight versus my own? When the second exceeds the first, it is time to consider your options.

What’s my “range” South of the Border?
Can I still put my panty hose on standing up? Yes, as long as no one breaks my concentration. Reach the buckles on my shoes? If this ever becomes NO, I will ditch the heels for a pair of SAS sandals which I will wear with reinforced-toe support hose. I don’t deserve sexy shoes if I have to sit down to put them on. Paint my own toenails? Yes, thank God, because my feet are too ticklish for anyone else to do so. Determine grooming status without use of a mirror? Whew, again – I’m good here - no heavy lifting necessary to maintain personal hygiene.....

Could I still enter the military?
Stand at attention and not look like a linebacker? Oh, come on...you’ve all seen those women who can no longer put their hands to their sides due to the Luv Handles they’ve accumulated. For me – the day I can’t touch my own thighs – call the firing squad and just shoot me. Achieve and maintain “stealth” status while wearing pants? While I accept that I will never walk silently in a pair of corduroy pants again, I shudder at the thought of hearing the same sounds coming from my favorite jeans. When the inner thigh reveals 2nd degree friction burns after running after a wayward toddler or is first place your pants show wear and tear, it is time to address the issue.

And finally, are things hot and heavy in the bedroom?
Does it feel as if a third entity is between the two you during sex? No, he hasn’t introduced jello into the love-making...or a midget – that extra is just a little more you than usual. Does he decline to be on bottom as a form of self defense? Instead of “Ride me like a cowgirl” you now get “Oh, no babe – its okay – I just like the view from up here better.” Do they make “long reach” extensions for these? The question you have on your list for your sex toy rep because the rabbit just can’t quite get to the burrow any more. Fortunately, these are not reality for me....yet...

So there you have it – the questions I used to evaluate how far gone I am. My conclusion is that while I have lost a bit of ground, I’m not as far gone as I feared. It’s nice to do a self-examination and get better results than expected. While corduroy may be lost to me forever, a cowgirl hat and boots just landed on my shopping list : )