I was boring someone again today with something funny my kid said, and it dawned on me: Why not blog this crap? It will save me from boring my friends, and when Alzheimer's sets in and I can't remember a damn thing, it will be a source of amusement for one and all!
So, without further ado, may I present . . . My Kid's Krazy Krap! (patent pending)
Monday, February 26, 2007
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Prediction
I am going to go out on a limb here and predict that THIS guy is gonna sweep American Idol.
Amazing voice, fantastic presence, and funny as all hell, too.
He sang a COOL tune by Mute Math for opening night, not typical (heh heh) American Idol fare by any stretch.
He's a winner. And I love his hair.
He's a winner. And I love his hair.
So, you heard it here first, folks.
Just sayin.
Hasty Editor's Note: Forget that . . . Lakisha Jones was fucking AMAZING last night. Holy Mother of all hot singers, this girl blew EVERYONE out of the water.
If SHE doesn't win, the whole damn thing is rigged.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
The Bitch is Back
So . . . I have been sick for (no lie) nearly a month.
Not that anyone cares, but let me lay this out for you. About a month ago, my littlest kid came home with a sore throat, headache. I figured it was some kind of little bug that kindergarteners get, and that it would go away. When he was still sick 2 days later, I took him to the doc, and after wrestling him to the ground, the nurse was able to swab his throat and determine that he had strep throat. Bada bing, bada boom, we were out of there with a "Zpack", a 5 day regimen of antibiotic.
Kids are amazing. Within a day, the boy was back to his old self.
About 3 days after that, my sweet girl came home, same deal. This time, I didn't want 2 or 3 days. I used deductive reasoning. Kid 1 has strep, therefore Kid 2 has strep. We rolled up to the Minute Clinic inside the CVS, and before you could say "Snot!", we were again on our way with a "Zpack" for her.
Now, all this time, I was kind of dragging ass. My throat didnt hurt, but I was just not feeling like myself. At some point, it dawned on me that I, too, might be sick. About 2 or 3 days into my daughter's treatment cycle, I went to the Minute Clinic for me, and got swabbed.
No strep.
But, how could that be? By this time, I was running a fever, had a sore throat, all the rest. THis was on a Friday, and the nice Minute Clinic nurse said that she would send my test out to the lab for a longer test.
Well, the weekend came and went, and so did Monday. No call from the nice lady. I went to the CVS, and after calling the lab, the nice lady said that I did NOT have strep.
Wierd. But I was sick as hell.
I called my doctor, who couldnt see me for about 3 days. Cough, cough . . . I struggled through 3 days and saw him. After a quick swab of my throat, he said I DID have strep. Finally! I thought. Now, I can get a Zpack and get better.
Au contraire. Some bullshit about how the Zpack wasnt a good choice, blah blah. He gave me some older medicine, one that you had to take 3 times a day for 10 days.
Well, after 5 days of taking this shit, I was STILL sick. I called, I begged . . .he was immoveable. He said that I was just a "slow healer" and that I had to be patient and finish all the medication.
Well, I did. Cough, cough, and struggling through 5 MORE days of being sick. I took the last pill and was STILL sick as hell. This brings us to this past Monday. I was getting desperate, so by last night, I decided, to hell with it, I would go see the nice lady at the Minute Clinic again.
She remembered me, and was shocked that i was still sick. She was surprised that I had had strep after all, and after examining me, she said that I had bronchitis, nearly pneumonia, and maybe a sinus infection too.
I KNEW I was sick, damn it!
So . . . . she gave me the magic Zpack. I took 2 of the pills yesterday evening, and guess what? I feel like a FUCKING MILLION DOLLARS today.
I feel like going and spitting on my doctor. Bastard.
Yeah, the bitch is back. Watch out.
Not that anyone cares, but let me lay this out for you. About a month ago, my littlest kid came home with a sore throat, headache. I figured it was some kind of little bug that kindergarteners get, and that it would go away. When he was still sick 2 days later, I took him to the doc, and after wrestling him to the ground, the nurse was able to swab his throat and determine that he had strep throat. Bada bing, bada boom, we were out of there with a "Zpack", a 5 day regimen of antibiotic.
Kids are amazing. Within a day, the boy was back to his old self.
About 3 days after that, my sweet girl came home, same deal. This time, I didn't want 2 or 3 days. I used deductive reasoning. Kid 1 has strep, therefore Kid 2 has strep. We rolled up to the Minute Clinic inside the CVS, and before you could say "Snot!", we were again on our way with a "Zpack" for her.
Now, all this time, I was kind of dragging ass. My throat didnt hurt, but I was just not feeling like myself. At some point, it dawned on me that I, too, might be sick. About 2 or 3 days into my daughter's treatment cycle, I went to the Minute Clinic for me, and got swabbed.
No strep.
But, how could that be? By this time, I was running a fever, had a sore throat, all the rest. THis was on a Friday, and the nice Minute Clinic nurse said that she would send my test out to the lab for a longer test.
Well, the weekend came and went, and so did Monday. No call from the nice lady. I went to the CVS, and after calling the lab, the nice lady said that I did NOT have strep.
Wierd. But I was sick as hell.
I called my doctor, who couldnt see me for about 3 days. Cough, cough . . . I struggled through 3 days and saw him. After a quick swab of my throat, he said I DID have strep. Finally! I thought. Now, I can get a Zpack and get better.
Au contraire. Some bullshit about how the Zpack wasnt a good choice, blah blah. He gave me some older medicine, one that you had to take 3 times a day for 10 days.
Well, after 5 days of taking this shit, I was STILL sick. I called, I begged . . .he was immoveable. He said that I was just a "slow healer" and that I had to be patient and finish all the medication.
Well, I did. Cough, cough, and struggling through 5 MORE days of being sick. I took the last pill and was STILL sick as hell. This brings us to this past Monday. I was getting desperate, so by last night, I decided, to hell with it, I would go see the nice lady at the Minute Clinic again.
She remembered me, and was shocked that i was still sick. She was surprised that I had had strep after all, and after examining me, she said that I had bronchitis, nearly pneumonia, and maybe a sinus infection too.
I KNEW I was sick, damn it!
So . . . . she gave me the magic Zpack. I took 2 of the pills yesterday evening, and guess what? I feel like a FUCKING MILLION DOLLARS today.
I feel like going and spitting on my doctor. Bastard.
Yeah, the bitch is back. Watch out.
Saturday, February 17, 2007
A whole buncha wierd things about me
Oh, Sara.
Sweet, wonderful Sara. You have no idea what you have done, do you?
DO YOU!?!
You have tagged me with the task of listing several wierd things about myself. Oh, if you only KNEW the depth of my wierdness, surely you would have never, ever asked.
BUT! The damage is done, and without further ado, I hereby submit to the world . . .
SEVERAL Wierd Things About Rita!
Editor's note: I think I was supposed to list 6, but Jimbo was kind enough to point out that since I am recycling some from a PREVIOUS tag response, I really should offer up 6 NEW things (thanks ALOT, Jimbo! Just for that, consider yourself tagged, smartass!)
OK, so . . . The rules are, once you've been tagged, you have to write a blog with "6 weird/things/habits about me". In the end you need to choose the 6 people to be tagged and list their names.
1. I can't really look directly at sharp points. Some of the most torturous times I can remember involved walking down the Health and Beauty aisle of the Winn Dixie (yes, THE Winn Dixie), shielding my eyes with both hands from the thousands of pegboard-mounted protruding metal rod pokey things that held all manner of bagged or carded products while my mom bought her Dippity Do hairgel. Luckily, my siblings were sensitive kids . . . instead of ganging up, they took turns pointing and lunging their forks toward my eyes at the dinner table.
DO YOU!?!
You have tagged me with the task of listing several wierd things about myself. Oh, if you only KNEW the depth of my wierdness, surely you would have never, ever asked.
BUT! The damage is done, and without further ado, I hereby submit to the world . . .
SEVERAL Wierd Things About Rita!
Editor's note: I think I was supposed to list 6, but Jimbo was kind enough to point out that since I am recycling some from a PREVIOUS tag response, I really should offer up 6 NEW things (thanks ALOT, Jimbo! Just for that, consider yourself tagged, smartass!)
OK, so . . . The rules are, once you've been tagged, you have to write a blog with "6 weird/things/habits about me". In the end you need to choose the 6 people to be tagged and list their names.
1. I can't really look directly at sharp points. Some of the most torturous times I can remember involved walking down the Health and Beauty aisle of the Winn Dixie (yes, THE Winn Dixie), shielding my eyes with both hands from the thousands of pegboard-mounted protruding metal rod pokey things that held all manner of bagged or carded products while my mom bought her Dippity Do hairgel. Luckily, my siblings were sensitive kids . . . instead of ganging up, they took turns pointing and lunging their forks toward my eyes at the dinner table.
2. It's nearly impossible for me to drink a soda directly from a bottle or can. Gotta pour it over ice to make sure there aren't any spiders in there.
3. I can't walk up stairs without counting them. Actually, that's no longer true. I don't walk up stairs. Ever.
4. When laying down, eyes closed, to prepare for sleep, my inner eye reliably displays a neon-green gridded, transparent endless plane, and laying on that plane, a jagged, irregular flat shape. My mind carefully and methodically begins to draw a lasso around the shape, and just as I am about to complete the lasso loop and "solve" the puzzle, the shape morphs and breaks out of the confines of the lasso, and I have to begin again. Over and over. If this disturbs you, just remember: some people count sheep. Don't judge me!
5. I prefer that food on my dinner plate remain segmented. I am quite fond of divided plates and ramikens. Spiders are less likely to hide in ramikens.
6. Every month, I have to open all of the envelopes containing my bills to make sure I didn't seal my children up inside.
(whew) Well, I feel better!
Another Editor's Note: Actually, that last one's not true. I saw it on Oprah, though, one day when I was washing my hands over and over, I heard a guy talk about how HE couldn't seal envelopes without ripping them open to make sure his daughter wasn't inside. That made me feel better.
Yet a Third Editor's Note: OK, all of those were the ones that I listed a year ago. Here is some piping hot fresh wierdness for ya:
7. When showering, if I happen to make bodily contact with the shower curtain, I have to rewash my body, even if I have already turned off the shower to exit. Shut up.
8. Before I put my shoes on, I usually check them first for spiders, unless I am really in a hurry, then I just put them on, but then I just end up thinking about whether or not there is a squashed spider in my shoe.
9. When I cook eggs, I place the empty eggshells back into the egg container in the spot that I initially got the egg from. This means that I always have cracked empty shells in my fridge, and by the time I have used all the eggs, I end up with a whole styrofoam container full of cracked empty eggshells. There is absolutely no reason for this, other than the voices in my head that tell me to do it. At least they don't tell me to save my pee in jars. Yet.
10. Sometimes, when I am watching a show, I actually feel embarassed for the people on television, so much so that I have been known to watch shows while my face is covered with both hands. In a wierd way, I like this feeling. For this reason, ANYTHING with Ricky Gervais (The Office, Extras) is extra-special sweet torture.
I'll add more as I think of them. In the meantime, if you are reading this, TAG! You are It! Leave me a comment to let me know when you post your craziness. We're all friends here.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
Space Madness
When I was a kid, everyone was jazzed about Space.
I remember watching the moon landing. I was 3 years old, and I remember the broadcast as clearly as if I saw it yesterday.
We all went sort of "space crazy". Every kitchen was stocked with Tang ("the breakfast drink of Astronauts!"), Quisp cereal (cause it had a "martian") and Space Food Sticks (I always thought they were just Tootsie Rolls, but the good folks at Pillsbury assured the general public that they were a nutritional food alternative).
I remember receiving a golf ball from my Uncle Bob that had a picture of an astronaut sinking a putt. I treasured that thing, as though it had been on the moon itself.
Hell, even our television shows were laced with space. "Lost in Space" and "Star Trek" epitomized our hopes and dreams of a future in space. I was convinced that we would all be living on the moon by the time I was 20.
I remember watching the moon landing. I was 3 years old, and I remember the broadcast as clearly as if I saw it yesterday.
We all went sort of "space crazy". Every kitchen was stocked with Tang ("the breakfast drink of Astronauts!"), Quisp cereal (cause it had a "martian") and Space Food Sticks (I always thought they were just Tootsie Rolls, but the good folks at Pillsbury assured the general public that they were a nutritional food alternative).
I remember receiving a golf ball from my Uncle Bob that had a picture of an astronaut sinking a putt. I treasured that thing, as though it had been on the moon itself.
Hell, even our television shows were laced with space. "Lost in Space" and "Star Trek" epitomized our hopes and dreams of a future in space. I was convinced that we would all be living on the moon by the time I was 20.
There was a time when space launches were cause for celebration, and very nearly caused the entire country to shut down to witness the majesty. Astronauts were national heroes.
Up until yesterday.
Oh, the humanity.
From this, to this: 
Up until yesterday.
Oh, the humanity.
From this, to this: 
Seems one of our nation's finest was caught at the Orlando airport in a tan trench coat, glasses and a wig, wielding a steel mallet, armed with a knife, 3 to 4 feet of rubber tubing, and several large plastic garbage bags. Oh, and she also evidently had a loaded air rifle and several "loaded" diapers in her car from her trip from TX (wtf?)
A decorated astronaut, THIS lady was ready to (apparently) apply a mallet to the head of ANOTHER lady astronaut and hack her into tiny, tiny garbagebaggable pieces over THIS guy.
Does anyone else think he looks like Fururama's Zap Brannigan?
A decorated astronaut, THIS lady was ready to (apparently) apply a mallet to the head of ANOTHER lady astronaut and hack her into tiny, tiny garbagebaggable pieces over THIS guy.
Does anyone else think he looks like Fururama's Zap Brannigan?
When reached for comment, Lieutenant Uhura dismissed the entire scandal with a wave of her phaser and a surly, "Bitch, please. She has set spacewomen back 1000 years."
Cheer yourself up with a little "Space Madness" of your own, courtesy of Ren and Stimpy:
Cheer yourself up with a little "Space Madness" of your own, courtesy of Ren and Stimpy:
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