Tuesday, March 01, 2005

MSN Archives: March 2005

Inertia and the Teenage Boy

"Well if you ever plan to motor west
Travel my way, take the highway that’s the best
Get your kicks on route 66..."

- Depeche Mode

My son is fourteen years old, which you would never guess by looking at the 6'1", lanky teen. He'll start driver's training soon, so I figured now would be the time for him to get behind the wheel and practice on something other than a go-cart. It was sunny, we were headed to the grocery store, and I tossed him the keys. I figured he could drive out through the neighborhood and I would drive from there - how many years could I age in a few short miles, anyway?

I have his dad's truck while he's in Iraq, which seemed even better from my perspective. The only trouble is it's a MONSTER Dodge truck with one of those hemi engines...not that it competes in the monster truck showdowns or anything, but it does require 3 steps for parking: pull in, back out, straighten and pull back in. It's a little intimidating sometimes - I've scraped the side mirror twice while pulling next to the ATM machine at the bank, but I figured he'd be fine, driving in the middle of the street anyway.

He's buckled in, I tell him the basics about Park, Reverse and Drive, how to hold his hands on 10:00 and 2:00 on the steering wheel, and which pedal is which...I suggest taking his foot off the brake and coasting first to see how it steers, then gradually pushing down the accelerator. He must not have understood the word "gradually", as he stomped on the pedal and we went flying forward...he did, however, remember where the brake was located because he used his other foot and stomped on THAT immediately afterwards! That Dodge apparently goes 0 to 60 to 0 in 5 seconds...

He looks over at me with this endearing little smirk on his face and says, "Guess I'll have to practice getting the right angle with my foot." You think?

*This photo should be ample punishment.

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When the going gets tough...

...the tough...GO THONG SHOPPING!

Crappy couple of days filled with too much work and not enough fun or men...so I headed to the mall for my soft, satiny, lacy thong fix.

Definitely more productive than spring cleaning...


Moore Spring Break

My son has been on Spring Break this week. He's gone nowhere, done nothing except watch Bowling for Columbine and Fahrenheit 9/11 SEVERAL HUNDRED times! I think I might have to strangle him if I hear his Bush imitation one more time*:

"I call upon all nations to do everything they can to stop these terrorist killers. Thank you. Now, watch this drive."

*Not that I'm not proud to have raised a mini-liberal, but he needs more material.


Holy Shit. Where's the Tylenol

Generally, I have 3-5 people on my shitlist. This week, I have only two:

The other day, my coworker/friend (?) said I will never find a man in Alabama. I can't decide whether it's the rudest thing ever or some sort of backhanded compliment.

And another insists on telling me his sex dreams (starring ME!). Apparently I was doing everyone in the office simultaneously and ordering them around like a director...(while wearing a strap-on - i don't even want to ask where that came from....and I can't wait for the google searchers to find me NOW!!)

He needs a serious reality check - I'm NOT BOSSY!

Guess the movie:

"...and I want to look him straight in the eye and I want to tell him what a cheap, lying, no-good, rotten, four-flushing, low-life, snake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred, overstuffed, ignorant, blood-sucking, dog-kissing, brainless, dickless, hopeless, heartless, fat-ass, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of monkey shit he is. Hallelujah. Holy shit. Where's the Tylenol?"


Note: Don't listen to men when they say, "don't worry, I'll pull out..."

My son P. has been giving me grief lately (for 15 years, actually) and today he's "celebrating" his birthday (he's on spring break, but grounded with no computer, tv or phone so I'm sure if you asked the drama queen, he would say it's the worst day of his life - EVAH!).

One of his teachers is a bible-thumping, closed-minded, immature, rides-for-Jesus, conservative ass and the two of them have been bumping heads all semester - big surprise. Every little thing my son did led to weekly in-school suspensions, which caused him to miss all his other classes . I couldn't get P. out of this required course so I withdrew him from the school and will drive him to another school on my way to work starting next week.

I can't decide whether to take him out to dinner tonight or not...afterall, I'M the one that did all the work 15 years ago - surely I deserve cake...


Inside the Box in the Dining Room

My computer's story: he was born a poor black Dell...sorry, wrong tale. For those of you that don't know, when I was married, my semi-control freak husband installed a keystroke program, which was the final proverbial straw...my first purchase as a newly-single woman was this HP...it has issues, doesn't always like to do what it's supposed to, but it's MINE and it doesn't track my whereabouts or tell on me when I've stayed up too late.

In February, I moved into my ex's house while he went to Iraq (so my son wouldn't have to change schools, blah, blah, blah). His office has his computer, bookshelves, etc. so I promptly took over the dining room. It is now my official READING ROOM - for reading blogs, duh. I bought a cheap computer armoire (I believe that's the fanciest word I know...roll it off your tongue a few times) and a wireless router...so I open the doors and sink into my own little world. Bonus: I can eat and drink in there as much as I please. Welcome to my space!


Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It's off to the Vet We go
The day has finally arrived...little miss horny Savannah is getting spayed!

Savannh is 7 months old and has been in heat 3 of the past 4 weeks. When I took her to the vet for the big snip last month, he informed me that her protein levels were too low, indicating a parasite, feline leukemia or feline AIDS (no, I don't even want to know how much I've spent on this stray!). The tests all came back negative, she was treated for a parasite, and I'm scheduled to bring her back this morning.

As tough as it's been for me with the incessant meowing and scratching and general whininess, I have to admit the dog is the one that's taken the brunt of her hormones. The tramp has most definitely spent HOURS rubbing herself against the dog...uh, yah, Savannah, if it was THAT easy, I'd be doing her! I'm sure she just wants a peaceful night's sleep without feeling molested.

The rule was no food after 6:00 yesterday evening - I currently have all 3 cats on the desk, not-so-gently reminding me that they're hungry, HUNGRY NOW! DAMMIT!


Anger Management II

I have 16 years worth of "he's a controlling ass" stories from my marriage...I was so relieved when that divorce was final and I had a chance to start over and gain control of my own life - FINALLY! Last summer, when he somehow successfully snagged a serious (and HOT!) girlfriend, I went OUT OF MY MIND with rage - that tramp was in MY house, petting MY dog and how could HE find someone to love when I couldn't and he's rich and I'm poor and life's not fair, wahhhhh! I drove by the house several times a day, used my garage door opener in the middle of the night, searched through the house when he wasn't there, contemplated poking holes in his condoms, called at half-hour increments, googled his girlfriend, then called and drove by HER house...my anger was consuming me.

After three weeks at this grueling pace of frantic behavior, I agreed to a pool party (yeah, 'cause even psychos need a day off)...all day with minimal clothing, lots of beer, splashing and sun...my pain and rage were temporarily numbed. I followed the advice in a Supertramp song, and took the long way home...driving by the ex's house out of habit by this time, when I had a brainstorm: I'll STEAL the dog out of the backyard! She loves me more, and he doesn't deserve her...drama-filled phone calls followed when he noticed she was gone so he called to fight about dog custody (tell me: WHY argue with a drunk woman? Do you think I'm going to suddenly think like a rational human being?). I also vaguely remember calling his girlfriend and rambling on to her answering machine about the fact that she was white trash. I'm quite intimidating with a drunken slur, let me tell you.

The next morning, I was in bed (petting my dog, heh) when my heart started palpitating...no biggee, I'm used to it, it's happened all my life. My arms went numb and I started to worry a little but decided to give it another 10 minutes just to see if it would stop - it didn't. I drove myself to the hospital a few miles away (and repeatedly got bitched out about this...but I have crappy insurance) and could barely talk at this point. After an hour in the E.R. with a heart rate of over 240 bpm, they injected something to make my heart stop and start some sort of normal rhythym...twice! I'm in my THIRTIES!!

Maybe the events are unrelated...maybe it was a coincidence...but until you're in my shoes...or my hospital gown with hangover hair and your heart stopped...crying with waterproof mascara clumping around your eyes...PLEASE don't ask me to hold onto anger any longer than I have to.