HalfAsstic.com

Recently, John was practically comatose from overwork and sleep deprivation, when I woke him while getting in bed and he made a remark that if given a fraction of a second to respond while wide awake and alert he would have rather died than say.  He clearly wasn’t thinking straight and it was obviously not meant to be mean spirited.  He spoke these words to me and then, promptly rolled over and fell back to sleep.

I admit to feeling a tad stung at the exact moment, but in seconds I wanted to laugh, just because it really was out of character for him to say something so critical about my appearance.

I wasn’t going to say what he said, (out of deference to him), but it really was harmlessly meant.

He reached up to my face, (I was sitting up reading), and gently touched my cheek.  As I smiled and leaned into his hand a little he mumbled, “You’re getting some deep lines here… I noticed it the other day…”.  He, quite literally, rolled over and went back to sleep.

He was touching my laugh lines.

Needless to say I was… flabbergasted and a touch peeved, (not to mention a wrinkled up old prune), and I also knew, without a doubt, that he would never remember this tomorrow.  So I filled him in the next day and he was properly sorry and contrite, and had no recollection of the remark.

I shared this story with Kessa, the 19 year old child and she was incredulous.  Then a few days later, John told me that Kessa had, “ripped” him.

About what?

“Well, she started in on me about what happened the other night when I made that dumb remark to you about wrinkles and then Keelan walked in and Kes told her about it and they both jumped on me and I wasn’t sure I was gonna get out of here alive.”

HA!  My girls are looking out for me!

OK, fast forward several days to yesterday.  John and I were talking and making lists and whatnot as he was off work.  I told him I need some new  bras.  He said, Oh, Ok, or something like that.  And then made some off color remarks about why he doesn’t want me to wear them at all or some such thing.

After that he casually mentioned that it wasn’t too long ago that I got new bras and I agreed that it wasn’t that long but they really don’t do that much for me and I have my eye on one that will get ‘em up there.  He then looked at me and said “What do you mean?”.

I was in a nightgown and said, “Well, they’re here…and I want them somewhere higher.  Don’t you think?”

He immediately opened his mouth and snapped it shut like he was trying to catch flies.  It’s a wonder he didn’t bite his tongue off.  He then squinted a little, looked slightly pained and very slowly said, “Where do YOU want them to be?”

Heh.  Yeah, he may be careless from time to time but, he’s not that stupid!

Kessa bought a muzzle for The Boyfriend’s dog because he had nipped at another dog when they were playing.  It turned out to be too small.  She thought it would be funny to see what Baby would do when the muzzle was put on her, even though it was much too big.

I don’t think she liked it…

Yet, this didn’t keep me from laughing hysterically when I saw this picture.  Does this make me evil?  Perhaps.

Chuck, of Dooce fame may be an extremely well trained, talented dog, but I challenge him to look this pitiful.  Anyway… this pic is now my desktop picture.  I smile every time I look at it.

On to other things.

I think it’s weird that the person in, or close to Dublin, California that checks in on me regularly did so immediately before someone in Dublin, Ireland looked in.

I am the kind of person that derives immense pleasure in curious, wacky, little  coincidences like this.  I should have been a statistical expert, that way I would know just exactly how tickled to be.

Here I am waving at you, person in Dublin, California… HI!  OK, I guess I should wave at the person in Ireland, too, but, they’re not a regular, so I won’t be quite as enthusiastic.  Hi! (Not in all caps, yet still heartfelt.)

I am also going to take a minute to wave to a bunch of other regulars that I don’t know who are.  A lot of the same people check in regularly, but I know most of them from comments and email back and forth.  However, there are some that have been looking in on a regular basis for a very long time and not ever letting me know who they are.  (Cue the spooky music)

OK, lurkers, you know who you are!

Someone in West Jordan Utah, someone in or around Dallas, Texas, Jarrettsville, Maryland and Melbourne, Australia.

HI!

Well, there are more, but these are the only ones that are on the Live Feed right at this moment.  Once again, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE, if you want your time in my, er…limelight(?) just comment and let me get to know you!

This particular post is one of those that’s a work in progress.  I have added to it twice now and I don’t know when it will feel finished.

Regular readers are probably wondering what exactly would constitute a “finished” er, “work”. Shush.  I could easily make a series of statements that flow together seamlessly and form cohesive thoughts and feelings and you would NOT EVEN KNOW WHAT WEBSITE YOU HAD STOPPED AT.

So this is how I roll.

Henrietta has been having trouble with her allergies lately and suffering from an occasional sinus headache.  In the past four and a half years that she has lived here and I’ve been taking care of her, I have repeatedly given her two Ibuprofen for minor aches and pains, headaches, arthritis, etc.  It doesn’t happen that often, yet every time it does there is a long explanation of what I’m giving her, what it’s for, did the doctor OK it, does the nurse know, will it make her fall asleep, what will it do to her, is it “habit forming”.

Now, ya see, this doesn’t happen very often.  But that little old bat has a memory like a pissed off wife.   She remembers everything I have told her about the wonders that are Ibuprofen and every time I give it to her a couple of hours later she is flabbergasted that she is “cured!“.

Well, yesterday she was having a terrible time with her allergies and complaining that her head was hurting, so I asked her if she would like to have some Ibuprofen.

Looking slightly alarmed and worried, she said, “Weeeell,… I guess so…”

I gave it to her and she was amazed when I put her to bed later at how it had just gone away.  Her allergies had also cleared up in the meantime, for whatever reason, and she attributed this to the Ibuprofen.  I told her no, it didn’t do that.  Her allergies just cleared up on their own and she was insistent that that’s the way it worked on her.

OK.  Whatever.

That was yesterday.  Today she is again having trouble with her allergies and chose to stay in bed, (because she is convinced she has to be in bed if she is feeling bad at all), even after I told her that her head would drain easier if she was sitting up in a chair.

Apparently it’s harder to be pitiful sitting up in a chair, than lying in bed.  Don’t question it.  These are the findings.

So I asked her if she would like some Ibuprofen.  I mean after all if worked like the miracle drug it is, yesterday.  “Ooooh… again?”

“Yes, Henrietta, it will help your headache.”

“Well… I don’t know… Is it habit forming?”

I was on my way out at this point to get the meds.  *deep sigh* “No, it’s not.”

“Oh…OK” sounding almost disappointed.

And then, as I was nearing the door, I heard that little old bag mumble resignedly, “I guess I’ll be an addict….”

It just seems like it sometimes.

I am being threatened again, by family and… “loved” ones.  I am being told that if I don’t post again immediately, well, there will be consequences.

You don’t want to know.

So here’s what’s going on at chez Lopez now and for the past six months few days.

As you probably remember, there was another auspicious occasion to go along with Mother’s Day.  My birthday was the day before.  I promised pictures when I wasn’t feeling too lazy to work on it and since I am now properly motivated, here they are.

Here’s John and I at Olive Garden.  I gained 50 pounds that night, and it’s all in my neck… and boobs.  I SWEAR my neck doesn’t look that wide in real life.  My boobs, however… Yeah, that’s about it.

We had a wonderful time and I got all kinds of gifts and whatnots.  The whatnots were especially great, but what would you expect?  I know everyone has had tons of fun with their whatnot’s before and you know of what I speak.

Here I am with my adoring fans.  I know you thought I really didn’t have any so I am attempting to provide proof.  John took this and I have to admit that every night there is a fight to see who can get in my lap first when I sit down in the living room with John to watch TV and talk.  Please click on the picture and notice that there are three (3) animals ergonomically packed into the chair with me.  There is the one small dog slid in over there on the right trying not to be noticed, cause if I get feeling claustrophobic after a bit, or just plain HOT (and who wouldn’t), they all have to be dumped out.

Going   back a ways, the last time I was at World Market I found the neatest little pair of earrings.  They are freshwater pearl on a sterling silver wire.  And, they were ten bucks.  I LOVE them.  They are comfortable to sleep in and came with little, tiny, clear acrylic backs that keeps them from wriggling out of my ear.  Cause if something can wriggle off of me, it will.  Except the pets… I think we all can agree that I am doomed to be smothered by the pets.

Moving right along…

This tree, planted between my house and the neighbors is in bloom and it is the neatest thing!  The blooms, that are ALL OVER IT smell like lavender.  And I guess they look a tad like it too.

The leaves, however, look like marijuana.

Well, they DO.

I have named it the “Lavender Marijuana Tree”.  It sounds like a kind that should be very expensive.

And finally we come to my new Haan steam mop!  Ignore the little old lady in the background.  She continually throws food onto the floor for the dogs, (and they DO NOT clean it up well), and she’s the reason I need the steam mop in the first place….  Yeah.  That’s what I’m going to run with.

Anyway, Mither gave it to me because I had told her how badly I wanted one and there is genuinely a NEED for it.  She’s wonderful like that!

This bad boy does it all and with only a cup of water.  Of course it needs someone to run it around and before that happens the floors need all the pet hair and food scraps swept up off of it.  My chiropractor specifically told me not to sweep or mop for a couple of days.

What?  Chiropractor?  Krissa, you must lead an exciting life doing all kinds of adventurous things to have to go and see a chiropractor.

Yeah, well… OK, sure.

John went with me and I was glad he did so he could see and verify that I wasn’t just making up big fat fibs about how archaic the machinery looks in there.  Plus I felt like it wouldn’t hurt for him to hear all the cracking that happened when she “adjusted” me.

I feel  better now and go back again on Friday.  Henrietta, on the other hand is going on a diet.  She laughed when I told her that…  I don’t know why she thought I was joking…

It’s late now and I am tired and am about to go to bed.  John is snoring lightly in the chair beside me and he’s off work tomorrow.  So we will get all kinds of things done.  Maybe.

Free toes, everybody!

In worry of a lawsuit respect for my Mexican readers, (I have none that I know of), I have titled my post in… Spanish(?)

Whatever.  My political corrected-ness doesn’t go too terribly far.  Ashamed for my “slander” of my SIL’s wetback boyfriend?  Not entirely.

OK, not really at all.

The afore mentioned wetback is a very nice guy and holds a job in a mechanics garage and really wants to get me alone without my husband around learn better English and pay taxes.

Yes, he does in fact stare at me and make me feel quite uncomfortable from time to time.  Even some of the other members of my family have noticed it.  Yet, he always wanders outside and finds something useful to do while the SIL is here.  Mow the lawn, clean out the garage, weedeat.  Whatever he can find.

So hell yeah, I tolerate leering!  I have told John more than once that if he wants to, try out polygamy,  have a three way, or just a girlfriend, it’s fine with me as long as the other chick cleans house.  And I mean good!  Not like I do.

Yeah.  I can be loose and uber cool.

Until I don’t want to.  And that’s? the tricky part.

It’s midnight on Monday.  Or, actually, I guess I should say Tuesday morning.

I am sure everyone out there realizes that Sunday, May 10 was Mother’s Day.  Well, Saturday, May 9 was my birthday.  I am now 46 years old people.

Stop looking so smug.  I know I’m older than you.

So this is what happens at chez Lopez.  I am waited on hand and foot for my birthday, showered with gifts and treated like a queen.  Taken out to eat and pampered.  Hauled in the loot like you wouldn’t believe.  My family rocks.

THEN! The next day, Mother’s Day, a repeat performance.  For two days I only had to get H on and off the bedpan and diapered.   The SIL even came and stayed with her so we could all go out and eat together.  We didn’t get back until after 10:30pm and Kes got here a few minutes before John and I did.  John and I walked in the door and there was Henrietta sitting in her wheelchair in the living room.

The SIL left as soon as Kes walked in the door ahead of us by maybe three or four minutes.

SHE DIDN’T EVEN PUT HER IN BED!  We fed her before we left, (long before), and SIL just plopped her happy ass down and watched TV and didn’t even put her in bed or give her her pills or change her into a nightgown or change her nappy or anything.  I was pissed.  Not to mention tired after being pampered all day and then overstuffing myself on overpriced Italian food.  That can wear a girl out.

Now.  Down to the really, really serious matter at hand here.  I am looking for someone to sponsor me in a program for an addiction I have acquired this past weekend.  This sponsor wouldn’t need to have the exact same problem as me…  Perhaps someone out there started out just occasionally using, ooooh, I dunno, M&M’s.  Or, has been seen in line at Baskin Robbins a few too many times.

I’m not judging.  But when you find that you have fallen and fallen hard into a life where you have become totally dependent on bon bons to get you through your day, THEN you can judge me.

My bon bon addiction combined with my lack of motivation to move back into my regular life of being taken for granted, used and abused, coupled with the realization that I was making a HAUL on gifts there for a couple of days and like any toddler, DON’T WANT IT TO END, just HAS to be the reason I woke up today with nausea and actually REGURGITATED.  This? is monumental.  I cannot remember the last time I threw up.  I have a cast iron stomach and a similar constitution.  My family looked at me like I might be gonna die.  I must say this was disheartening.  I told them all where to go and crawled back in bed.  I got up long enough to feed H breakfast and she very sweetly insisted on staying in bed today so I wouldn’t have to breathe in her face haul her in and out of the wheelchair and get her dressed and all that shit.

So today, I blew “it” all off again.  Life in general.  No laundry got done.  I didn’t clean the kitchen, I didn’t cook supper.  It was all magically done by the little elves that run around here on magical days like May 9th and Mother’s Day and freaky puke days. Well, the laundry didn’t get done but if I have calculated correctly, at least three of us run out of underwear tomorrow.  (huh…better not be me…)

Next year Mother’s Day and my birthday are one and the same.  This happens every seven years or so.  Not THAT big a deal.  And I know what you’re thinking.  No.  I absolutely do not get shortchanged on gifts on these occasions.  I don’t think I would stand for that if it was ever attempted.  My loves know this.

I have been watching Craig Ferguson as I, er, composed this.  It is now 12:59 and I am about to throw it out to the blogosphere and see if it doesn’t get thrown back in my face.  Regurgitated, if you will.

To all of those of you harassing me to… dammit, post again, fine.  Here!  Happy?!  It’s Friday and no one will even read this until Monday… It’s totally useless.  UNLESS, YOU! YES YOU, THE ONE THAT HAS NEVER COMMENTED!  EVER!  Will kindly leave a comment and say that, in fact, you DID read and now feel that you can go on living until the next untimely installment.

The thing is, lately especially, I’ll have several ideas rolling around in my head, (Yes, rolling.  That’s what things do in my head…), and as soon as I sit down to post, *POOF* It’s gone.  Or at least the ability to write about it in any kind of readable way is.

This shit is so random, I don’t even feel that apologizing for it is the least bit useful.

Observe:

Keelan missed school last Monday due to puking and diarrhea.  (Dear God, please don’t let her read this.)  Then, on Wednesday she went to school and work then home again where I found her curled up on the couch with a flame red face and 102.5 degree fever.  My first thought was, “Strep throat!”.  I called and made an appointment with her pediatrician for the next day and John took her and brought her home.  He had to cut out of work in the middle of the day to do so.  (Remember, I can’t drive due to a vision blindness problem.)

He called me from the doctor’s office and told me it was just tonsillitis.  OK, this is good.

Keelan walked in the door with her father when they got home, looked at me and said, “Mom, she said it’s just tuberculosis.”

I stared at her for a moment and said, “Tuberculosis?”

“Yeah… well, something like that.”

“You mean tonsillitis?”

“Whatever.”

Then, later, in the same day, We were discussing her infancy and when she was a newborn.

“Mom, what was the matter with me?”  To which I gave her a puzzled look.  “You know, Mom… I had, gingivitis?”.

I can only say my puzzled look grew more puzzled.  “Do you mean jaundice?”

“Oh yeah!  That’s it!”

For Christmas, I’m getting her a medical dictionary.

On Wednesday, April 29, Henrietta turned 87 years old.  There were festivities as you’d expect from a festive family like this.  I do, in fact have pictures that I would like very much to post, but this stupid thing won’t let me as the file size gizmo has pissed off the maximum load of shit thingy.  Or some such crap.  And it’s not Wordpress’s fault this time.  It’s that rat bastard, Vista.

Have I mentioned how I loathe Vista?  I do.  We are getting an Apple sometime in the near future and all I have to do is find a way to finance it….  Hum.  I have children I could sell.  They are 18 and 19 now, but really, if I list them as “slightly used”, won’t that cover my butt?

Anyway, as I was saying before I got all sidetracked, H had a birthday with a beautiful cake I made and Kes iced for me and presents and whatnot.  She had a grand time.  Only her daughter never showed up or called.  So about half way through the day, I’m figuring she may have forgotten and I started trying to call her.  I left messages and never heard back from her.  John did the same from work.

The next day, Thursday, she showed up with the most gawd-awful looking pot of almost completely finished blooming tulips.  Some of them were lying over the side of the pot.    She said she hadn’t called the day before because she was out of minutes on her cell phone and she never gave any idea about why she didn’t come.

She doesn’t own a car, but drives a 14 year old piece of junk Accord that belongs to her boyfriend.  And I DO mean junk.  Rust showing through, no A/C, dings and dents everywhere.  Ugly as sin.  She always parks right in the middle at the end of the sidewalk.  We always make a point not to park there because it is directly across the street from my neighbors driveway.  It’s the elderly couple with the red door that I have posted about before.  They are very sweet and terrific neighbors.  It just makes good sense to not park right where someone has to back out.  You know, the courteous thing to do.

We should have told her not to do it too.  The man that lives there was backing out and hit that piece of junk and dented the front quarter panel.  So he rang the bell and asked me if he could talk to me and I went out and he showed me the dent and said that they were going some place right then and just tell SIL they’d be back in a little while.

So SIL called her boyfriend and told him.

Here’s where I get politically incorrect.

He’s a wet back an illegal alien.

Of course he wanted the insurance info.  **Sigh.**

She stayed here longer than usual visiting with her mother that day so that she could go and talk to my neighbor.  That’s the only good that came out of this.  He gave her his phone number and asked her to call him when she got an estimate.

That was all on Thursday and Friday SIL was calling saying that she’d talked to him and he’s supposed to be bringing a check over.

For $244.00.

To fix body damage on a car.

Yeah,  right.

John was appalled at the whole thing of course and we are both embarrassed.  So when the neighbor came over with the check, he talked to him and apologized.  When the guy left John told me that he’s going to tell his sister that he brought the check but needs a copy of the estimate for his records. He didn’t believe for one minute that $244.00 was going to fix that car either.  And, he and I both know the car will never get fixed.  It will just be an embarrassing reminder every time she comes over here of what happened and how she extorted money from our retired, on a fixed income, neighbors.

She came back on Saturday earlier than she has been here in many, many months, (1:15), and while I was surprised to see her that early, I wasn’t.  My first thought was “OK, at least she’s in time to change her mother’s diaper this time.”.

She stayed 10 to 15 minutes and left.

H promptly rang the bell to be put on the bedpan.

This is my life.

The copy of the estimate she brought looks legit enough.  It’s barely legible, but has the name of the garage stamped on it.   So… whatever!