HalfAsstic.com

Well, Mither and Auntie-Poo departed for the long haul home, today. They will be driving north to the Ft. Worth area. We had a lovely time and H was really fairly well behaved. She hasn’t said anything resembling accusations that we were all table-dancing, man-chasing, liquor-swilling, ho’s. I am proud of her.

The house is a wreck. There is no other way to describe it. The combination of me being sick for days before the company came so it wasn’t EVEN in shape when they got here, and then spending the rest of the time frolicking and whatnot, has left it in shambles. (You know how it is once you get started dancing on tables it’s hard to stop). Now we have marauding dust bunnies, piles of dirty clothes that could take your breath away, and a state of general chaos that makes Bosnia look like a sanctuary. Now, don’t think that my dear Mither and Auntie-Poo are the direct cause of this catastrophe. No. They are more the indirect cause. Because since they have been here I have done absolutely nothing in the way of domesticity. I now pay.

In more depressing news, our beloved coffee pot, (I have named her Cecila), is trying hard to get across the point that she needs to be… put down. I know it sounds harsh but, really, she isn’t producing coffee anymore and therefore it is hard to justify her existence at this point. When filled to the top with water for a fresh, aromatic pot of delicious, life sustaining coffee, she “makes about 4 cups and quits. There is always about 6 cups of water left in the reservoir that won’t “make” until it’s been restarted two or three times.

She is only two years old and cost $130.00. This is just soooo wrong. Can you hear me, people?

Please pray for Cecilia. I will surely cry when she goes.

Cecilia

Sorry I have abandoned my…post. BAHAHAHA I have been extremely busy being hostess, getting ready for the big graduation and being sick.

Mither and Auntie-Poo arrived on Wednesday amid much hoopla and fanfare. (Picture parade with confetti.) We were all really, really glad to see them. They haven’t been down here to visit me in a long time. Mither usually comes with Pop to see me a few times a year, but it is a real treat when Auntie-Poo gets to come with her. The three of us together are, well, somewhere between The Three Musketeers and the Three Stooges. We always have a riotous time. We have shopped and sat around a bit and I got my heart blessed a good deal for being so disgusting and sick. The Plague will do that to ya.

Kessa has made this family so proud of her. She has worked so hard her entire academic career, to earn the honors she was presented with last night. She was also a bit excited. A very good bit. I will post a picture of her soon, as all the ones I took were on Auntie-Poo’s nifty new Nikon camera and we gotta figure out how to get ‘em outa there. She looked so pretty, though. She wore the blue robe with a white National Honor Society stole, and had a blue and white cord for graduating Cum Laude and a gold one for National English Honor Society. After the shin-dig, (OK, we ran for our lives after they called her name the second time to receive her fake diploma that she has to wait until…Monday(?) to receive her real one to put in the folder thing.), we had to get out of there to get the grill fired up for shishkabobs. We had a wonderful time and got really full. PLUS I ran no fever all day long. I do believe the worst of the virus that ate my soul and then puked it back out is over with.

Yesterday we went to World Market and bought, (between the three of us), three tins of their wonderful ginger snaps. I am not a huge fan of gingersnaps, normally. Just pretty much take ‘em or leave ‘em kinda gal. But these are the most wonderful things ever and you get a good sized tin of them for about $7.00. WORTH EVERY PENNY.

We also went shopping and I got new clothes from Mither and Auntie-Poo for my birthday. This shopping together for the birthday is a fairly traditional thing with us. It gets me outta the house and is fun and I get stuff that I know for sure I like and fits and will wear. And of course Mither and Auntie-Poo didn’t leave empty handed, either.

We are going to go to breakfast here in a few minutes. You’re invited if you want to come and I’ll pay. I feel sooooo secure in saying that as I am pretty sure readership has dropped off to next to nothing. Again, sorry for the long delay! REALLY!

I feel so bad right now that death is preferable. Well, I guess not really, but, you get the idea. I woke up this morning not feeling particularly good, but not completely wrecked either. By the time I was writing that last post I was thinking the world was coming to an end. I managed to spew out words and get a point or two across, but that’s about it. Now I just await death. My head is killing me and I can’t hear. My whole body is rejecting any notions of making large moves. John and I put up a ceiling fan and a track light. Under protest. From me, anyway. No, not really. He is being very sweet.

I can’t believe this is happening. John is on vacation, Mither and Aunty-poo are coming tomorrow, Wednesday we are having a celebratory dinner with a bunch of our friends for Kes’s graduation and then she is graduating on Thursday. And I’m sick.

Life is so sucking right now.

Henrietta is off and running today. It was just about exactly the time I serve her breakfast in bed everyday. I wasn’t in there yet, but was getting to it fast. I heard the bell ring. Strange, maybe she had to sit on the bedpan? She was pretty constipated yesterday as her poo routine got screwed up when my sister-in-law came and stayed with her in the morning the other day and forgot to put the Miralax in her oatmeal. It only takes not paying attention to details one time and she is all screwed up and unable to poo for days.

Anyway, I was just assuming that was the problem when she rang cause I have been dragging her on and off the bedpan with multiple false alarms everyday since that one fateful breakfast. I went in and she said “Oh! I thought no one was here.” I am not shitting you. She has never in the 3 1/2 years she has been here woke up and had no one here. Or had no one here, period. 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I said no that of course we were here and did she need to use the potty? Oh no, but “I’m hungry, Krissa!” As if I wasn’t expecting her to be and had forgotten breakfast completely. I told her that I was making breakfast, just like always, and it would be in when it was done. She still looked a little disapproving, but nodded her head sharply and said OK.

At this point I was wondering what was going on and was pretty clueless, but when I took in the first course she asked if I had heard from my mother and I said yes, I had talked to her this morning. She asked if they were on their way here. And I told her no, it was tomorrow that she and my aunt were coming down for a visit. And it all fell into place. She doesn’t get the same amount of attention when my mom is here and somewhere, deep down inside resents it. She was all prepared to be put out and bent out of shape this morning when she started ringing for breakfast. Shucks. It’s business as usual.

Tomorrow will be another thing, entirely.

Where ties now reside…

Where ties SHOULD be.

Oh, God in heaven. John’s tie rack and approximately 8 zillion ties now reside on the floor of his closet. I have searched high and low for an adequate tie rack for him and can find absolutely nothing that comes close to holding enough. This spinning kind just gave way and fell yesterday. It never held enough anyway. I do believe I am going to try to con my mom or dad into getting out to their workshop and making me one with the drill press, a board, and about a million pegs.

Mom, if you are still paying attention and love me at all-AT ALL…. I’m thinking about 3 feet long and make the holes for the pegs about 2 inches apart with two rows of pegs and yeah, be sure and stagger the two rows so that there is enough room for the ties on the upper row to hang down between the ties on the lower row.

I am very busy here taking care of your grandchildren and son-in-law and, yes, his mother. I have a headache. My tummy hurts. A hangnail. Some gray hair. And I’m not above using guilt and sympathy to get what I want. LOVE YOU MOM AND DAD!

Nope! That’s not a typo! If you have ever seen the play or DVD called Greater Tuna, you’ll know what I mean. This is a HI-sterical act that these two guys do, mostly dressed in drag. They each play a number of different people in a very, small southern town, named Tuna. I believe it is supposed to be in Texas, although I’m not entirely sure about that but it’s fictional. I’ve just forgotten. Anyway, ever since my mom and I first saw it back years ago, I have called her Mither because one of the characters in the thing is a teenage girl that calls her mom Mither. This chick embodies everything that is evil about teenage girls. I cannot begin to tell you how funny this guy is playing this girl. And not because there is a guy playing her. You forget about that almost immediately. But, what happens is priceless. This is my Mother’s Day gift to all of you. you can get it via Netflix and you need it! It will lighten your spirits. I should have watched it a number of times in the past few days. But, hey, I never have been one to listen to my own good advise!

Cast of Greater Tuna in just two of the many characters they play.

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Moving right along.

Kes just brought in flowers and some clothing for me . I believe her exact words were, “Mom. I got you some clothes.” Picture this with a look on her face like, I am going to break this to you gently, Mom. Then came, “Cause you really need some cute clothes, Mom….Cause yours are… not cute.” I just laughed and she pulled out a trendy little skirt and shirt and I went in and put them on. The skirt is actually a little bit too big, I think, and we will just go back and exchange it. The top fits though, and hey, I have gotten to where I love to try on things and announce that they are too big. “Old age” thing? Probably just “getting fat” thing…

Other child, Keelan, is at work and will do the requisite sucking up as soon as she gets home.

About MY mither:

My mom had me when she was 26 years old and married to my natural father. He was an alcoholic and, from all that I have gathered it was a very rough ride. I had an older brother that was killed in a car accident when I was 3 months old and he was 22 months old. My father was driving home drunk from somewhere he had gone with Kurt, my brother in the car with him when he had a wreck and Kurt was killed. My mom ended things then. I think she had been trying to hold everything together for quite a while, but I also think the effort was mostly on her part. Anyhow, she raised me alone until I was 5, when she reconnected with an old friend from her high school days. My daddy. They dated for a while and got married and before the ink was dry on the marriage certificate, he asked me if he could adopt me and I was thrilled. My natural father was out of the picture and I didn’t remember ever seeing him anyway. Not a real stand-up guy. He had never come to see me and wasn’t paying his child support, so it wasn’t hard to get him to agree to give up his rights. An easy out for him.

Sooo we lived quite happily as a family until my bratty baby brother came along when I was 8. Not really. I adored Cam. He was the best thing ever. Until he wasn’t anymore. About 5years old, I think. Then it was pretty typical sibling shenanigans. Mom was thriving as a wife to my dad and a wonderful mother to both of us. She was involved in ALL school functions and charity stuff as often as she could find it to do. Which was all the time. She “adopted” families and was forever looking for things for a family with 7 or 8 children that was about to have a birthday or around Christmas. These people would send wonderful letters that were written at about a 2nd or 3rd grade level and tell her what was going on and what was needed. She kept lists of the children and their sizes in her purse at all times. If there was a sale at a toy or clothing store, she was there with bells on. This mostly all happened while we were living in Louisiana, as we were there for a few years while I was growing up. There was an abundance of poverty there also. This was something she could never turn a blind eye to. My dad made good money and they made drastic home improvements on every house they had ever lived in, (several), and made a good deal of money on each one when they moved out. I learned all about house flipping from my mom long before HGTV. She and my dad are the definition of “handy”. Anyway, “the buck” actually didn’t stop there. It was passed on to those who needed it far worse.

Henrietta’s ringing the bell. Poop! There must be Poop! More later. Remember! She never got one out yesterday, so this is a big event! BIG!

The very best part of finally getting around to changing the sheets on the bed for the first time in six months, (Calm down, Mom! Just kidding!), is the anticipation of the luscious, smooth softness that calls to me all day. Promising to be soooo comfy and sweet smelling. That 500 thread count, dog hair free, Egyptian cotton will definitely be the very best nights sleep in, oh, I dunno, 6 months. (Mom, remain calm!)

Imagine my disappointment upon waking at 4:30 this morning and not being able to go back to sleep.

Life can be so unfair.

It’s scary and somewhat depressing, how irrelevant reference books have become.

All I have eaten today is a bowl of Cheerios and two pieces of very thinly sliced rye bread toast. With butter.

John has gone out in search of food for me to eat. I KNOW WHY I MARRIED THAT MAN! He is my… saver. No, I did not mean savior, I meant saver.

Actually he is running by the dry cleaners, also. And darn the luck, Kes just came in from work and I could have gone with him if we had known she was going to be here early tonight. I guess I should explain…. Someone has to be here with Henrietta. At ALL times. Anyway, I get to leave when someone else is here to watch her and John is off work, at the same time. Because he is my Ride To GO. I guess I should explain…again. I don’t drive. Long, long, long boring story cut down to an acceptable length is:

I am partially blind due to a car accident I was in as a teenager and do not own a drivers license. Just a good looking driver. Named John. But, only when he’s here on his one or two days off a week. Sometimes I can get a body here to watch H when I have an opportunity to go with a friend, or if my mither is down visiting, we make arrangements for then. But, mostly I am just here. All the time.

Anyway, I am hungry. Wonder what he’ll bring for me to eat…

Stay tuned for future developments.

This sucks. I am going to get a new card and, ritually burn this one. I think God will like that, too.