HalfAsstic.com

I can’t get the song Snowbird, by Anne Murray out of my head.  Been singing this in my little head for a couple of days.  WHY?

Yesterday Keelan spent nearly $300.00 of her hard earned(?) money on an iPod Touch, and an iTunes Music Card.  I think she slept with it last night, and she won’t let anyone else touch it.  Not even me.

Twitter is not working.  I don’t know what to do…What am I if not a Twit?

Wonder why those little frozen peanut butter and jelly sandwiches John buys are so much better than ones I make myself?  I told him that buying them was the stupidest thing in the world when you could just make them here, fresh, and it’s at least the same thing.  Then he made me try one of the store bought kind.  Yum!  Weird.

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Tonight I ran out with Kessa when she got home from work to shop for a few things that she’s been needing.  It was nice to get out and we usually have a nice time shopping together.  We do NOW…not always.  Anyway, I was standing in the space outside her cubicle in the dressing rooms and there was a mom and daughter a few doors down from us.  I couldn’t hear exactly what was being said, but it was rather hushed, stressed tones.  In a few moments the mother came out of the dressing room and stalked past me looking at the floor with her hands balled into tight, white, little fists.  She proceeded out to the waiting area with the sofa and chairs.  she turned the corner and stopped.  I could hear almost all of the exchange with the husband/father:

Mother: “I spent $57.00 on shoes and all kinds of other crap for her last week!”

Dad: “mumble, mumble, well, yeah…..I know…Mumble…”

Mom: “I DON’T CARE!  I am sick and tired of her treating me like shit!”

Dad: “Mumble, mumble…voice down…”

Mom: “I AM TELLING YOU, I AM THROUGH BEING AN EFFING DOORMAT FOR HER!  She treats me like shit and I am nothing but someone for her to just use and abuse!”

This went on for a minute or so and I got the feeling the daughter was taking longer than necessary to come out of the dressing room.  She finally emerged and looked up at me as if all the world was her oyster and gave me a kind of polite little smile as she strolled by and I SWEAR IT WAS ALL I COULD DO NOT TO STICK OUT MY FOOT AND TRIP HER AS SHE WALKED BY AND THEN RUN OUT AND TELL HER POOR MOM WHAT I HAD DONE.

This time in their lives?  I remember it soooooo well….  Mine almost didn’t live through it, only they never knew how close to actual death they came.

I have this blouse I got for my birthday from Mither when we went shopping that I started out really liking and now I think I am beginning to see what my family is seeing.  They all, every one of them, has expressed a severe distaste for this shirt.  Even John, who usually thinks if it’s on me it has to be lovely doesn’t like it.  I went terribly wrong somewhere.  Well, I know where.  In Kohl’s.

Does anyone out there have clothes like that?  You know… you buy the thing and maybe wear it a couple of times and finally decide that you must have had some sort of stroke to have picked it out?

Mither, I’m sorry.  But really.  How could you have let me?

It’s OK, I love you and I forgive you.

The Offending Object-Please click to enlarge on it’s… offensiveness.

I don’t know if you can tell or not, but the sleeves and neckline have a strip of satin sewn around them and the sleeves tie in these things that are not bows, yet are big like bows.  And since they are satin ties they slip, no matter how tight they are tied.  So even though they start out pulled up and puffy, (yes, I really said PUFFY), they slip down and are hanging about my elbows the majority of the time that I am not in the actual act of yanking them back up and cussing adjusting them.

Today at Chez Lopez we are undergoing technical difficulties.  However, not in a too terribly tragic way.  The cable is stuck.  Every cable channel is frozen.  And not in the most attractive poses for the people on said channels.  Basic channels all work fine.  But, hey, it’s Saturday and there is no sense in explaining how utterly and completely useless basic channels are on a Saturday.  OK, maybe not for someone out there.  But not me.  Henrietta is distressed, also.  No good can come of this.  I am gonna have to get dressed, walk outside, and get the damn paper to read. I need to just sue the damn cable company.  But I guess they have so much money they’d hire a very good, snooty, high powered attorney and investigate my situation and see quite clearly that my time is best spent cleaning house and not watching TV anyway.  I would lose.  They’d probably sue me for annoying them and I’d lose my house…. But, then I wouldn’t have to clean it!

I smell a lawsuit coming on…

John is working late tonight and Henrietta wanted to be fed something that no one else will eat.  Done.  I am not a very big supper eater.  Kes is 18 years old and just read me the riot act about not getting supper done early enough to suit her.  I looked at her blankly and said, “Supper?”  To which she grabbed her purse and stormed out muttering something about going to get something to eat.  Clearly, she is steamed at ME.  I think this is unfair.  This is just me sawing away in a frenzied manner cutting the apron strings a bit. PLUS there is always the chance that she will think that if she’s not going to stick around and eat any food I may or may not produce, then maybe she shouldn’t accept any money for her college education….  Yeah, right.

Poor H.  She woke up early this morning due to her foley cathater failing during the night.  She was swamped in urine.  Wet gown, soaked diaper, wet chux, wet sheets.  It was all very bad.  She kept apologizing to me the whole time I was cleaning her up.  It is very hard to listen to someone apologize through chattering teeth for something they had absolutely no control over.  Anyway, the nurse showed up and we finally got her re-catherized.  Which is a HUGE pain in the arse hoo-hoo.  She has fistulas.  I swear, she is like swiss cheese up inside there.  I have helped with every catheter change and there are many prayers recited at each one, by H, the nurses, and me.  There are only a select few nurses that are considered experienced enough to get it done right and those are now the only ones that are ever sent out.  It takes over an hour to find the “sweet spot” and get urine back.  She is a nervous wreck all this time cause even small things stress her out and this is major thing on her scale.   So when they are done she is wiped out.  But, in the end, we got pee back in the tube and there was much rejoicing.

Man.  How sad is that commentary on my life?  HAHAHA.

I will post again later today.

I totally didn’t intend to post anything today.  Just not even bother.  I am bored and mildly cranky, and this is what I’m down to.  Boring you with… what?  Oh.  I forgot.  I have to actually have something to SAY.  Whatev.

Was over at Moo’s Moo earlier and she has an interesting idea that I am very enthused about her pursuing.  She is toying with throwing up a mommy forum of some sort for moms to discuss speech problems of their developing toddlers.  Looking around there are lots of people hitting her site and linking to other sites that are popular with moms with this problem.  They’re not all originating at her site, but when you link to the ones she mentions it is evident that there are a lot of moms out there that are very concerned and want to hear from other mothers with similar issues.

The general consensus of the commenters was very positive and supportive, but, she is concerned with how to do it.  She says she isn’t computer savy enough.  I hope she finds the help she needs.  Anybody?

Joan Crawford’s got nothing on me.  Just ask the wee small girl child that lives here with us.  Keelan is 17 and has some unusual ideas of good parenting.  She had a friend drop in to visit her last night about 9:30 and she and this other little girl sat in here, (the riff-raff room…where the teenagers hang out at my house) and visited and talked and giggled.  The usual.  Then at about 10:00 I came in here and talked to them.  Keelan popped up and  said that she was thinking about going camping.  Oh.  OK, with (insert friend’s name here)?  Well, yes.  With her.  “When?” I ask.  “Right now.”  After playing 20 questions like this to the tune of 136 questions I finally gathered that her friend had gone to the Texas City dike in a camper with another friend of theirs that I have never even met and said friend’s parents.  She had just left the camp site to “go home and catch a shower”.  So the thinking here is that she will swing by at 10:00pm and pick up Keelan and take her to spend the night with her and all these other people that I have never even met.  When I told Keelan that I would have to talk to them on the phone I got the response I was looking for, cause there was no way she was going.  She did all the requisite stomping, whining, and fuming, explaining that it was stupid to do that and totally embarrassing to her and “How COULD I?”  Etc. And then, per normal procedure, she said, “FINE!  I just won’t go!”  To which I said, “Fine.”, and was secretly very smug.

Now who’s a bad mom and who’s a clever mom?  OK, in the name of justice I guess I should add, who’s a bad, clever, mom?  I think I am a badass clever mom.

In other world shaking news, my dear brother of Squidspot fame has relocated an award I recieved a good while back from my good friend Trannyhead over at Law School Sucks, and so do lawyers.  It is now in the sidebar as it should be.  I really should stay on top of these things, but, alas, my housekeeping, er… “skills” are carried on over to my blogdom.  Such is life.  I am not going to complain cause hey, he got it done.  Yea, Cam!

1. When it’s raining like this I love to clean house.  Well, maybe “love” is a strong word to use, but I like to,  Wonder why?

2. I wonder who has been reading my blog for so long that lives on or near Long Island NY.  They have been reading almost everyday since day one, and I don’t think they have ever commented.  I wanna know you people!  Er, HI!  Leave a comment for goodness sake!  Introduce yourself.  I can be very nice and not too terribly scary at all.  Well, when I’m really trying, anyway.  I swear I won’t stalk you!  Not any more than I already have….  M’k?

3. I wonder how many calories I eat every day in nothing but CARBS.  I loves me some pasta and rice!  Oh Oh! and bread and pretzels and popcorn!  I need an intervention.

4. I wonder what ever happened to our Maine Coon cat.  He just decided to stay down the road at someone else’s house a couple of months ago and he would show up here and eat occasionally but not often, because she was feeding him too.  We would see him laying about in people’s driveways and yards also.  But for the last few weeks he hasn’t been spotted.  Is somebody feeding him better food than us?   He always was fickle.

5.Our cell phone contract is up this month, (Hallelujah!), so long Cingular/ATT!  I think we are going with Verizon…wonder what phone to get?

6.The (now, mama) possum visiting our cat food is going to be caught tomorrow night as I have located a live trap and we will swing by and pick it up tomorrow on John’s day off.

7.  Amazing how greened up everything got when it finally rained.  It looks like spring outside instead of summer.

8.WHY is it like pulling teeth to get out of here.  I want to leave NOW.  We actually can leave NOW and yet John is in there cleaning up the kitchen or piddling on the computer in the bedroom or something and it’s always “just a minute…”.  I swear if he wasn’t so damn cute…!

9. No Possum Trapping Tonight!  John had the good sense to call the animal shelter place in Texas City and ask if they had any live traps available, (they are out right now), before we went all the way over there and came away empty handed.  DAMN.  I was all excited about going trappin’ and I’ve been practicing my east Texas/redneck accent all day! GONNA CATCH ME SOME POSSUM, AND COOK ET AN FIX ME SOME VITTLES, YA’LL.

Well, last night there was commotion outside and when Keelan looked out there she discovered yet another possum.  But this one had two babies attached to her.  When I went out with my camera she was very displeased at the intrusion and hissed at me while climbing down from the table she was on.  She had one baby on her back, but…forgot the other one.  The baby left behind began frantically making this pitiful noise that I can never begin to replicate.  Momma was going as fast as she could away.  So I took the baby and put it down on the ground and went back inside, (it was definitely going to fall off the table if I didn’t).  AFTER CAREFULLY WASHING MY HANDS WITH ANTIBACTERIAL SOAP I watched out the window while she came back and retrieved it.  That’s when I grabbed the shitty camera, dashed out and took a few more shots of her making her get away.  She didn’t even give the baby she came back to pick up time to climb on her back.  It kind of rode underneath her while the other one was up on top.

They rush back and forth along the front of our house on the same little path going back to the neighbor’s fence.  I think they are living under his pool house.  SOB doesn’t have any pets so they are forced to pilfer cat food from the neighbors, (ME).  I need to bring up the problem of people not feeding their own vermin at the next Homeowner’s Association meeting.

Anyway, I located a live trap at one of the animal shelters close by and since John is off tomorrow and the caregiver provider person is supposed to be here tomorrow, we will go and pick it up and go a-trappin’.   I am very excited about the possum hunt and it promises to be a very busy catch and release night as I saw two neighbor cats up there eating in the next hour when I looked outside.  That’s in addition to our cat.   I anticipate angry cats all night long.  They may even change free buffet locations.

I know what you’re thinking.  Cats?  There are that many cats around there and yet, an old fashioned, plague situation with possums?  Yes, the cats are pretty much worthless.  HOWEVER, they are well-mannered.  They take turns at the food bowl with the possums and never interfear with their feedings.  My work here is done.

Wait!  MOOOOOOOMMY! COME BAAAAAACK!

MOM!  Why do I always have to ride underneath!?

Brother always gets to ride on top!

Look, lady…just back off and let me get to the free buffet…

You can see the little one underneath and the spoiled one on top…

Sorry about how bad the pic is.  It was pitch black dark and I was using a flash.

I was getting brave and a little closer.

DON’T LAUGH AT MY…diagram(?)! I am learning how to do…stuff.  Click to see the words bigger cause I am a loser and didn’t feel like going back into the thingy and making them bigger.   Gotta go do bedpan duty.

Well, we are a perverse little lot, are we not?  I have had some strange hits since I last did a rundown of google entries that led the unsuspecting lookie-loo to my cozy corner of the intertubes.  I believe the date of the last update was….May 19.  Just a little over a month, so what could possibly be new?  Let’s see.

Krissa Lopez got another 105 hits.  As I explained before, this is a bit of a cheat as there is a fairly popular southwest artist named Krissa Lopez and try as I may I CANNOT figure out how to get in touch with her.  It’s been a while since I attempted to find an email address via the websites, but I know I never could before.

All other new searches got 1 hit each with the notable exception of “boobs” which got, (drum roll please), 2.

Here they are:

“toenail fungus”

34 year old mommy

aaaah boobs (not to be confused with “boobs”)

asian cum tube (eh, wha?  Oh yes!  the Cum Laude award!)

big ass tic

boobs and legs

boobs phone number

chapped arse  (You should know that the person looking this up was from Scotland…I don’t know why, but that puts it somewhat in perspective for me…)

confessions of a pioneer woman

dents in shin

export smoke

girls shave head

half ass teenager  (I’ve seen my share)

half assed cat food

halfasstic (Gee…ya think?)

long legs and boobs

long nails

my name is krissa

paralyzed teenager bladder control (awwww)

partially blind in one eye dmv

pioneer underwear

what happens in a cavity search  (oh dear)

www.halfantic.com

www.halfasstic.com  (really?!)

I would like to point out that my readers are a varied group of people and probably not nearly as sick and depraved as this makes it sound.  This is what I tell myself.