|You ALL rock. Yes, that means you, you, you and you, and even you over there being all shy.|
No, ha ha, that's not how old I FEEL today. I'd say more like 89--tops.
Blech. Stupid back-to-back colds. What--am I in KINDERGARTEN again???
No, this is about there being 100 of you nice people who decided to follow me no matter how much I whined, or abused the ALL CAPS button.
Thank you for reading.
I hope at some point I've made you laugh, or provided something worth thinking about. I've only ticked a few people off along the way, so kudos to me.
If you're new around these here parts, you may not know that I have a nice little family, and I'm thankful for that. My son is on the Autism spectrum, and is a CRAZY artist. Seriously--check out the links to his art sometime. Just scroll on down and they're right there in the left side pane of the blog. My daughter once stood on my armpit (she also says a ton of crazy things), stepped on her brother's nose, and hurts herself approximately five times each and every day. My husband doesn't even want me to talk about him at all (heh heh--poor THE MAN--there's no escape).
I also have two cats. They make me mental. Loki is my black cat, and she literally stalks me from the time I get up until the time I go to bed, (even when I'm on the can, there she is outside the bathroom door, all "MEOW? MEOW? MEOW?) so at some point during the day I will freak, and shout: AREN'T CATS SUPPOSED TO SLEEP MOST OF THEIR LIVES???? She's completely neurotic. She even gets little anxiety zits on her face from time to time. Suggestions, anyone? I think she could use a good dose of Prozac. Do they give that out to cats? If she would just calm the eff down we could be much better friends. My other cat's real name is Tiger, but I call her Fatty, because she's NOT insane, and LURVS to sit down and eat. She's really cute but clunkers get stuck to her ass.
I'm living in my grandmother's house. It was built in 1928. Blah, blah, blah, isn't that nice, it has ants. Once, at the zenith of the great ant infestation of 2010, flying ants poured up from the cold air return vent in my bedroom. It's been covered with the heaviest books we have ever since. I especially liked this past summer when there were hornet-sized flying ants milling around the outside of the pantry window. Only one got in the house. Jack killed that thing with a PEN. That's HARDCORE, YO.
So, whenever I look at really beautiful old houses, I always wonder what kind of insect/pest problems the occupants have.
Oh, and I have an avocado tree. I grew him from a pit I carefully saved after making guacamole for CINCO DE MAYO this past year. He is just over a foot tall and his name is Pepito. Pepito and I have coffee every day. Speaking of coffee, I am a coffee snob. You will learn this, if you don't already know it.
I talk about all of these things and none of these things.
I also talk about PMS and my LADY TSUNAMI. A lot. And my dissatisfaction with personal hygiene products. Throw in some poop, barf and hooters and you've got yourself a party.
No wait--there wouldn't be any party without YOU, because you guys make the comments section so fun, it's almost the whole reason I write. The rest of the reason is to stay sane. I am a stay-at-home mom after all.
Just ask me.