HalfAsstic.com

Hi gang!  When my brother was a little tyke we’d ask him, “What cha doin’, Cam?”  His pat answer was, “Busy doing stuff!”  Well, that’s kinda me lately.  Hard to put a handle on it and say it was mostly one thing or the other.

Speaking of my brother, look at my masthead.  He Christmatized it!  The bag of coal is to be expected… he is, after all, my bratty, baby brother.

John is only off one day this week and he’s already had it.  We had a good time and even went to see another movie!  I have seen more movies this year than I have seen in the past 10.  Why?  I don’t even know.  And I don’t really care, I’m liking the trend.

We saw Four Christmas’s and it was really funny.  I used to really just not like Vince Vaughn, but he’s grown on me and I thought he and Reese Witherspoon were both very funny in this.

John and I rode around running errands listening to a Simon and Garfunkel CD and then moved on to John Fogerty.

We stopped at one place so I could buy a new curling iron and when we got home I was throwing away the packaging when I happened to notice the… directions.  Yes, curling irons need directions.  I know.  I was a bit amazed by this, but that’s nothing when you actually consider what they say.

Did you know that, among other things, you are not supposed to bathe while curling your hair?  NO!  Really!  You’re not!  Shocking, I know.  (heh heh…shocking…)

Also, apparently you are not to ever, under any circumstances, consider using this appliance while sleeping.  Ever.

It is very specific when it says that the iron is hot when in use and not to use it against your skin or eyes.

Ya think?

I know it is a lot to remember, but I plan to spend a good deal of my “free time” (BAHAHAHAHAH), studying this instruction booklet until I am certain that the next time I take the curling iron to bed with me I know exactly how to use it safely.

When we came home from all the errand running and movie going, John painted my toenails!  Does it get any better?  I think not.

Needless to say there were green beans for supper!  heh heh heh On the down side… I think I screwed up my nails… OH WELL.

The Boyfriend had some dental work done yesterday and Kes is over at his house today.  She’s basically out of school for the rest of the semester and enjoying the freedom.  Now if she can just get her pharmacy tech test taken and get a job as one all will be good with her.

Keelan has started forgetting to take her medicine and is showing the effects.  She is being a “Bee-otch Extraordinaire”.   When she is rude and snaps at me on the phone, my first reaction is to tell her to come straight home… only I don’t want her HERE.  Not under those circumstances!  I have been leaving her notes to take the stupid pill and she was doing it, but, all of the sudden the notes aren’t enough to do it.  The notes were necessary in the first place because it got her all cranky for me to tell her to take it, verbally.  (Teenager)  So now we are just moving on to me showing up with the pill in hand and saying something to the effect of, “Here, take this damn thing before I kill you.”  You’d think this would be effective… Sometimes it is.

Henrietta is doing OK, this morning she asked me, “Krissa, do you think (SIL) has my big booty?”

You could have heard paint dry.  “What?”

“You know… my big bootie, I crocheted…”

It’s dawning on me at this point… “The big Christmas stocking?”

“YEEEEES!”

OK, so this is somehow comforting to me.  The “big booty” is indeed a croched stocking and not the emaciated, wrinkled up arse of Henrietta.

And to answer the original question. No, SIL has no idea where H’s “big booty” is.

But I know where mine is.

I just heard the news and again they were discussing the astronaut that let her tool bag float away while working on the space station.  It is reported to have cost a hundred thousand dollars.  This has me thinking of so many questions my leetle head hurts.

Number one, When you are going to send a bag of tools up with a bunch of super geeks to work on things in zero gravity, wouldn’t you consider that maybe it would be good to have something on the bag of tools to tie it off with.  I mean it just seems like it would make working on the space station go much smoother to be able to use both hands instead of one holding the bag and one the tool.  I think NASA needs to hire me to speak for the moral practical majority.  I have tons of good advise for them.

As for the cost of that bag of tools, I’m thinking… Makita?  Snap On?  I mean I cannot conceive of any brand of tools that costs as much as they spent OR couldn’t do what needs to be done in outer space.

So where DO they shop for tools?  Or was it the bag?  If it was the actual bag that costs that much I’m guessing it’s from a high dollar store on 5th Avenue and a knock-off can be found on Harwin here in Houston for a teeny, tiny fraction of the cost.

When NASA hires me that is going to be the first thing I reccomend.

If this much incompetence isn’t enough, when the news guy was finishing up the story he pointed out that the Space Station had been a temporary home for 10 years to people from 15 different continents.

I’ve done what I can and now give up.

Today’s the day I get my glasses!  John is off work, so I have a way to get there and we just have to wait until one of the girls is here to stay with Henrietta.  It’s going to be wonderful to have a pair to wear all the time, because I can’t tell you how tired I am of not having the readers where I am trying to read at the moment, they’re always in another room.  Or maybe it’s me that’s always in the other room, after all I am the one that’s given to roaming around the house, not them.

OK, it’s now 10:55 PM and I am home with the new glasses on.  They aren’t that confusing, but I am not sure they were…”done” right.  When something is right straight in front of me it is very clear, but when I have to look slightly off to one side, either way, it is blurry.  I don’t mean very far either.  It seems to be this way with the far away vision, the mid range and the reading, all.  If I am reading a magazine and there are three columns of print, while having my head positioned looking straight at the first column the one on the far right is so blurry I can’t read it well at all.  I have to move my head or the magazine.  Is this asking too much of a pair of glasses.  I’ve never noticed anyone reading a book having to move their head in order to read across the page.

I think they didn’t “do” the prescription all the way across.

Well, God knows I have debated about this, but here’s a damn picture:

Somehow, at this point in my life, the “smart chick” look doesn’t bother me at all.  Not sure I can pull it off once I open my mouth, but up until then, I think the glasses I picked out help with the illusion.

They told me to wear them for a week and see what I think.  I think I’m going to call them tomorrow and ask why I have to be laser-sighted on target and physically aimed at anything I want to see clearly.

Now, I have to find someone to do something about those chipmunk cheeks.

OH!  Before I end this, I have a confession!  No!  Nothing juicy!  No, what I did today was make it over to Lisa’s AGAIN two days in a row now and I was going to take pictures of her gutted kitchen.  We went and visited and left and I forgot to take the pictures.  Got my glasses and went home and then remembered I needed to take them so John and I went back over to Lisa’s house AGAIN.  Got over there and looked in my purse for my trusty(?) camera and I had left it at home.

I really do think God didn’t want me to take any pictures today, cause he obviously made me very forgetful for some reason.

Last night I informed john that we would need to make something exciting happen tomorrow in order for me to have some sort of reasonable blog fodder.  He immediately responded, “Have sex?”.  I then told him,  1) I don’t usually write about our sex life on my blog and 2) My mother reads this.  His swift, cocky comeback was reduced to, “Ooooh…”.

Today has been a bust.  The caregiver provider was supposed to show up at 1:00 and let John and I run out and madly dash about doing things together willy-nilly until we had exhausted our three hours and had to return to take care of H.  She never showed up.  Now remember, this is the “new” provider that is, not the same one that had trouble showing up a while back.  So I called the number we had for her cell phone and, surprise, surprise, no answer.  I next tried calling the company that was sending her out here.  The lady told me that she had called her and told her that she didn’t feel well and that she had called us and left a message for us telling us that she wasn’t showing up.  Left a message?  Why on earth would she lie and say that?  That makes it sound as if I WAS ABLE TO LEAVE THE HOUSE AND NOT ANSWER THE DAMNED PHONE.  Ahem…  Anyway, there was no message on the answering machine and we had been here all day.  Waiting.  I was not a happy camper.  I told the lady so and she said that maybe I should call the… “provider’s” home number and she gave it to me and, of course, no one answered.  I called the company back and told her I want someone else and it’s not that she was feeling poorly, it’s that she’s a terrible liar and that really chaps me arse.  So tomorrow afternoon some new chick named Maria is supposed to show up and we will see.  John works a half day tomorrow and so we should get to do something.  I have an exciting list, too.  Let’s see… post office, Lowe’s, grocery….oh gawd…

The exciting thing that happened today is that my wonderful husband has figured out how to get the pics in the memory of my camera onto the memory card and onto the pooter.  Actually, I got them onto the pooter, but he did the rest.  He may get some booty tonight…

On Sunday, August 21st, the same day Henrietta came home from the hospital, Kes came running in to get John and I early in the morning.  I mean DAYBREAK.  She had gone out to the garage to investigate what on earth our little dog, Kissy, had been barking at.  It was a stray cat.  Don’t know why the cat decided it wanted in our garage.  There is no food in there or anything like that.  While she was looking at it something flew across the garage and landed, spooking her no end.  It was this little bitty owl.

Now I have quite a history with owls and I will update you on all that in my next post, given something earth shattering doesn’t happen in my life to supersede it, i.e. H has a blowout that completly dissolves a diaper or the provider care person shows up and John and I have sex for three hours in some seedy motel.  Don’t hold your breath, cause H is finished with her antibiotics and is no longer suffering with diarrhea.

I just read this to John and his first response was, “Are you sure your mom can read all that?”  I said, “She knows how to read…anything. “  He looked a bit desperate and responded, “YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!”

Is it a baby or just a small breed?  I dunno.  But now that I have the pics on the pooter I will try to look it up.  Tomorrow.  John wants my attention now and I have to go…..

Hello, people.  Greetings to all!  I have had company today and they FINALLY left, not a moment too soon!  My SIL came and brought her son, his…girlfriend and their two children to see Henrietta.  Every time she brings these people they break something big.  The last time they were here the…girlfriend-in-law climbed up on the trampoline with her little boy when she was EIGHT MONTHS PREGNANT, and the rusted out frame gave way and it is a thousand wonders little miss dumb ass didn’t give birth right there.  I was inside and didn’t witness the dumb ass wonders taking place in the backyard, otherwise she would have never gotten up there.  You just kinda of assume that not only is she old enough to watch her own children she can make responsible decisions for herself.  Or, at least I did.  Never again, though.

This time the 3 year old hellion that was on the trampoline with his mom last time was running all over the house and being an Unholy Terror.  He went outside with his dad to get something out of the car and ran back to the door ahead of his dad and struck the leaded glass panel with his hands and broke a good sized hole out of the bottom of it.

PLUS, I found out some things about their finances while they were here that really chapped me arse.  I know, I know, what business is it of mine?  Plenty, it turns out.  SIL is forever going on about how poor ____ and _______ are so broke and need money so bad and they need groceries and can we spare some money to help them out?  So I usually fork over a check for $35.00 or $40.00.  Well, SIL said something about how you can get online on her son’s TV set.  I looked at him and said, “Oh?  How do you do that?  Special kind of TV?”  No, it’s with his PlayStation 3.  “Oh, I didn’t know PlayStation 3’s could get online…”  No, not all of them, just a special kind.  “Oh, wow.  How much are they?”  Five hundred dollars.

The little shit can afford to buy the most expensive games out there, yet, apparently, has some difficultly providing for his ever increasing family.  No longer my worry.  The well has dried completely up.  Next time SIL tells me they are near death and starvation, I will tell her to suggest to them hocking the PS3.

Mark My Words inter-tubes, no more free rides for these jokers and I may even cut off my family…er, no, before I could finish this sentence Keelan called and wants to borrow $10.00 to go to the movie.  But, ya know what?  She’ll pay me back,  Without me having to ask for it!

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In…more upbeat news, I have a new blog award!  My brother, Cam, bestowed it on me and while the cute little hiney on the award doesn’t look anything like H’s little shriveled up butt, I appreciate it, none the less.  Actually, I appreciate the fact that it doesn’t look like her at all.  He pinched the pic from this post of Big Hair Envy’s.

In appreciation of this cute little hiney, and because of the many diapers changed while dealing with all other manner of shit, I would like for Angie to have the first Loaded Diaper Award.  Congratulations, Angie!

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.

The stupid “caregiver provider” never showed up today. She made it out here last Friday and did the requisite 3 hour stay, only I was here for most of it. She also gave H her bed-bath and dressed her and pottied her and whatnot. It was very nice. However she is supposed to be here every Tuesday and Friday at 1:00. I called the office at about 2:00 and they called her cell phone and left a voice mail message. About 3:00 she called me and said she had been at the emergency room. She said she is pregnant and had started bleeding. Then she said she is OK they gave her some medicine. She wants to come tomorrow morning and do the whole thing then. How should I feel about someone who supposed to be preggers and having bleeding problems showing up and horsing H around and picking her up and all the job entails? I am betting her employer doesn’t know she’s pregnant. If she really is.

I was looking at Twitter and noticed that Holly over at Anglophile Football Fanatic, commented that the UPS man rang the doorbell and she went into a meltdown of sorts trying to make sure “the boy” didn’t wake up. This got me to thinking about how determined I was that my kids could sleep through anything. I thought I had the perfect plan. I wanted them to be able to sleep through any kind of noise or silence, so, every other night, for a very long time, from day one at home I left the radio on or the tv or something noise making. Not very loud, but loud enough to be heard. And every other night it was off and there was silence. Wanna know how they turned out? Well, I have to say that when they were little it did work. Noise never bothered them, but, they didn’t have to have it to sleep, either. However, now? The older one needs quiet and the younger one, noise. I AM TELLING YOU I DON’T THINK THEY’RE MINE.

Well, I got up this morning and left with elder daughter to go to Walmart to get her a new battery. She wanted me to go with her as she is a pansy and scared to do anything like that by herself. I think she will be able to handle it now. TWO HOURS later they are finished putting it in. I mean “installation” is free, but, my gawd, she could have done it a fraction of the time, I know I could have.

Anyway we came home and I fed H and younger daughter left for work. I knew my SIL was coming today but she told me she had no idea what time when I talked to her on Friday. She usually only comes to visit her mom, once a week for a couple of hours and she only lives about 35 minutes away. So when H rang to get on the pot I put her there and was delighted when SIL showed up with her “significant other”. So it is written that she has to get her off the pot, clean her up, (that’s putting it delicately), dress her, put her in the wheelchair and roll her in. Actually it is not written but that is, by gawd, the understanding. And it’s one that I like. She does this on an average of once every 4 or 5 months because she manages to get here late enough in the day to miss out on all of this kind of activity. And this irks me no end. She is not good with money at all and used to ask for gas money when she was about to leave to go home because she didn’t “have enough to get home”. However when H first moved in with us she would come to see her at least 3 times a week and actually spend time with her. Now? She shows up last thing usually on Sunday night and stays about 2 hours, sometimes 3 and is on the computer almost the whole time.

Today she got here at 2:00, which is good for her, and stayed until 4:50 which is very unusual, but it’s because I put in a movie that I knew she would stay and watch until the end. I told her the computer was “down”. I swear I don’t mind her using it, but she will stay in there on it and not visit with her mom at all if she can. She hasn’t asked us for $ in a long time and she better not, either. She let it slip that she and her “boyfriend” were in Galveston this morning and none of the gift shops were open. (Well, I guess so. It’s SUNDAY!) I said, “Galveston? What did you have to do in Galveston?” She said that they just “…drove all over and then went aaaaaall the way up on the northeast side of Houston and circled around,” (wide arm gestures), “and then came over here.” She spent all day riding around in a car when she could have been here visiting her mom and relieving me from…”care duty”. It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t know she is going to ask us for gas money sometime in the near future.

When H first started staying with us she would just show up unannounced and walk in like she owned the place and I remember one time she surprised me and I said “Oh, (SIL), I didn’t know you were coming today.” and she said, (I swear this is true), “That’s the whole idea.” She stuck her nose into every little aspect of her mom’s care and talked to her in Spanish right in front of me about what I was doing and if she was getting good care and what not. I could tell enough about what she was saying to know that. Well, as soon as she decided everything was going well and I knew what I was doing, she dropped us like a hot potato.

Well, I have gone on and on about it and it is not a Father’s Day subject at all. BUT IT JUST CHAPS ME ARSE!