Beware of Extra Large Bee Nets

Here’s a story

Of a crazy lady

Who was hearing things inside her big fat head

She would try to shut them up

With wine and valium

But they got worse instead…

(Yup, Brady Bunch theme song…ding ding ding!)

You’ve met the voices in my head right?

I call them they for short. Well they have been working overtime lately. I don’t know if it’s a vitamin or sanity deficiency at this point. And I was pretty sure that booze would be the answer but they seem to only get louder with this type of encouragement.

At what point does a person willfully commit themselves? Or are the blog police watching me right now with their nets held high?

In addition to hearing voices, I have developed a lovely case of germaphobia. Proud?

No more shaking hands with people. I gave it up along with stiff stuff hair spray.

The mere thought of what those other people might have touched could have me hermetically sealed in the house for a week! So when I know that someone will want to shake my hand, I purposely fill my arms with things and give them the sorry I can’t shake my hands are full look (works every time).

And I now view door handles in a whole other light. And it aint pretty.

But I have come to embrace my….new outlook on sanity. I don’t harshly judge myself or anyone else who has fallen victim to twitchy odd habits or uncontrollable mental setbacks.

It’s the only way to live! Plus the medication wore off an hour ago.

If I call myself crazy, well then I must be sane enough to aptly diagnosis a problem which deems me reasonable beyond a shadow of a doubt (the voices told me to add that last part- they saw it on CSI).

The voices are actually kind of fun-until the other side of my brain gets a hold of them and beats them down to a respectable level. Boring ass bastards.

I admit it. I like when the voices act up. Makes life and blog a most interesting place indeed.

For example, I can’t get this image out of my head.

See? The other side would never have permitted such nonsense. But the voices LOVES them some ass dumb nonsense! (feel free to caption the cat)

This is an outrage! They must be screaming. Sorry, can’t hear you…voices remember?

Anyone else afflicted? Isn’t it fun? (before they take us away, I mean).

Cranberry Agita

Here we are, gorgeous crisp autumn air, a stunning tree lined visual at every turn filled with plum, umber, magenta and golden yellow leafs clinging to their branches, my favorite of all high holy days…Halloween is just around the corner and all I can see is…..

My cup frothing over with impending family drama which will begin on Thanksgiving Day and end…well does it ever end?

It will commence, as always, with friendly, amicable hellos and how are yous. It will progress into small groups of Scrabble and Monopoly (which may very well lead to physical and emotional violence) and will ultimately end in everyone’s favorite pastime…

The Blame Game. All players are in. All ages and in-law status welcome. Leading up to ten to twenty years of pent up grievances and animosity in the Final-Showcase-Showdown. It’s going to be a great show.

I am your host, Nelly Neutral. Now let’s meet our contestants:

Husband- Extremely hotheaded but more often than not…. rrrri…rrrrr….riiiii…right.

Damn that hurt.

Sister in laws- a.k.a. Thing one and Thing two or Hypocritical and Pious. Hi and Pi for short. (You know…like shut your Pi-hole Hi)- Older gang-up sisters to Husband - Oh…forgot, I was supposed to be neutral.

Yeah, sorry, I don’t look good in beige. Moving on….

Mother-in-law- Who will not stick her neck out for either party in order to keep the peace. F@^*!EN take a side damn it! Ours. There, that was neutral-like.

And let’s not forget the Innocent Children for without them this game would not be possible because we would have no reason on God’s green earth to gather in the same room voluntarily otherwise.

Is forty-five minutes of not really great turkey worth the all the bitter conversation trimmings that will echo in phone calls and emails haunting both sides for the rest of the year?

Is it worth watching both sides’ organs imploding into a non edible side dish?

To find out the answers to these questions and more, join us next time for a game of Family or Farce!

Can’t we just stop at Halloween? Trick or treating. Costumes. Scarring the crap out of little children – legitimately?

BTW, I have scheduled two Thanksgivings this year. Back to back. One to celebrate with family and one to erase what happened the day before.

Last year’s celebration taught me well my friend.

I’m sure that my son will not be scared much by the underlying tension. They don’t even notice half the time. Kids are awesomely resilient that way. Stop lying to yourself

Then we grow up. Then we hold grudges. Then we get heartburn. Then we take pills. Then we drink…well, I’ve reserved my mental health breakdown bed have you?

All in favor of shortening Thanksgiving dinners to a thirty-minute-meal in Bikini Bottom, say Aye Aye Captain!

I can’t hear you!

All opposed…well… Come on over and bring a bottle! You’re welcome at my house for the Holidays.

You’d fit right in (-:!

NyQuil Hangover

So in conclusion….

Oh right, I haven’t said anything yet.

By the powers vested in me…..

Oh wait, I’m not a priest.

Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury…

Yeah. Still not working.

This is what happens when you get older. Can someone please enlighten me as to when the hell Better will be making an appearance? I want to be properly coiffed.

My thinking got rerouted to remembering. Because…well because I couldn’t remember damn it!

Is there a lost and found for trains of thought? I seem to be having more and more memory lapses lately. I have practically choked myself on sticky note reminder necklaces. And I think my husband might be paying a visit to Jacoby and Myers soon if I leave one more don’t forget note on the kitchen counter (it’s not like I’m using it to cook or anything…sheesh get off my back!).

I heard that Ginko something or other helps with memory enhancement and if I can remember to get to Rite Aid or Duane Reed, I’ll be sure to throw some in my basket. Although I don’t think that I’ll be going anytime soon.

As I suffer from a serious pharmacy fetish.

I can’t seem to control myself from spending less than a hundred bucks a pop and I am not partial to just one drug store. I love them ALL.

I need the new lip sticks in the ever so slight color variations of the ones that I already hoard. I must have all feminine hygiene products ‘cause you never know when you will get lucky. Oh and hair dye and Motrin and allergy pills and foot insoles and nail polish and that chachki thing that can go on the table and hair ties and a calculator and new hand cream and new shampoo and gum and a magazine and a nail clipper and chapstick and…I really need help.

Does anyone know of a free clinic?

So what was I saying?

Oh right, birth control…had I known all the side effects back in the day, I think that I would have become a mother earlier in life. Hair in places that never grew before, headaches, skin issues. Really, how hard would it have been being a mother at sixteen? At least there would be less waxing and laser fees and I would have recovered tautly and moved on.

But back to my point, I am truly looking forward to menopause. I’m totally ready to own a new set of complaints.

Gotta run, Rite Aid awaits!

Intervention anyone? I smell reality TV here.

Top 10 Things A New Mother Must Know

Top 10 things a New Mother Must know

# 1. Don’t let the baby eat dirt

(If the baby poops green…don’t worry)

#2 Don’t let the baby eat grass

#3 If the baby screams when you take away the bottle, chances are you didn’t put enough rum in it

#4 Should a rash develop, have yourself checked out immediately

#5 Mother in laws who think you are incompetent give helpful advice can become clumsy around this oughta take care of the old bat accidental kitchen spills

#6 Teething is normal. Stay away from baby if urge continues

#7 Don’t try to pawn the gas smell on the baby. We all know it was you

#8 Mothers and fathers do things differently and that’s o.k. The baby will grow up to know the truth love you both and realize that you are always there for them I do way more

#9 Sucking snot out of baby’s noise is to be expected. Using a straw is not.

#10 If screaming and crying persist, go into another room or you will wake the baby

Got Skills? -

Got Skills?

My Grandmother had an old saying. She said ‘Shut the hell up and stop complaining’

She also said ‘Get the hell out of my way, I’m missing my program’

Kidding. Well maybe not. I guess the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Why are we talking about my grandmother?

Oh, right….’Learn to type and you will always have a job’. That is what I remember her saying most of all, mainly because she was absolutely right and partly because she screamed it when she said it.

I don’t think that in a villion years I would have been able to move up (job wise) if I didn’t have this very basic of skills. I also can’t even imagine not being able to type my thoughts as fast as I think them. I haver-zero-patience-factor for the hunt and peck! Hence the 110 wpm. I told you I didn’t have any patience!

This skill has been unbelievably handy and advantageous in gaining employment for me. And not just typing jobs. All of my jobs have required typing at some point. And I have always managed to become the typing go-toperson (a valuable stronghold on those who don’t carry the high wpm badge).

Today, speedy and accurate typing skills are still a very valuable commodity (plus, it aids in emailing your friends from work as quickly and unnoticeably as possible). If you can get by with your own personal look-up-look-down-quick-type great, but I would strongly encourage everyone to take a typing class – either on line or in person to enhance your current skill sets.

Moms- I don’t know if they still teach typing in high school (yeah, it’s been a while) but if not, make them learn! It will only benefit them later in life. Perhaps getting a job won’t ever teeter on the brink of whether you know how to type or not but it can certainly help once the job is gained as well as aiding them in speedier emails to you!

There are still times when I tap a letter on my keyboard and remember the crooked metal sticks of the old fashioned typewriters slamming unto meet the black/red striped ink ribbon making imprint on the paper. How far we’ve come!

But note that we are still old-fashioned typing on all of our new technology!

Old school yeah, but so what?

It works! And mark my…my grandmother’s words….’And so will they if they learn to type’.

And I didn’t even have to scream J

Ceiling Tile # 56

While taking a break during some necessary sit-ups, I let my eyes wander up and glaze over with the late afternoon sun streaming through my living room.

Ceiling Tile #15 had me dreaming of lottery winnings and easy living. Ah, #15… such an easy Tile.

By the time I pulled out of easy street, I was vacationing on Tile #23 in a beach town very much south of here where foot massages were the island’s specialty. Tile # 31 reminded me that I have another three sets to go.

Shut up #31.

Tile traveling can be very relaxing. Drifting, dreaming, floating, moving lazily from tile to tile…and then bam!

Along came Tile #56.

It hit me like a floor tile! Why didn’t I think of this before? Shouldn’t I get moving on this right away? Is this a dream? Should someone wake me?

Here she goes again #37 muttered.

I had a vision. A vision of my dream job coming to daytime (no it wasn’t massage therapy). I tried to capture the full sight of my vision before the illusion escaped back into the ceiling tile grooves.

If I can do what I truly love on whatever Tile I was on, would that not constitute as a real life dream job? Well then why can’t I? Why should I settle for just a paycheck when my passion comes from the payout of writing?

Writing my in- the-closet true love for as long as I could remember.

Couldn’t I write anywhere? About anything? With NO dress code? Could I finally come out and physically produce more than a secret inner pleasure from each piece that I create? Could I actually cultivate my own desired lifestyle by my own head and hand?

Uh, Tile # 45 reminds me that I still have a mortgage and that little thing called electricity that I have grown so accustomed to.

But #56 was having none of it! She was on a roll! Look at her go slamming #45 down with her lofty optimism. Why can’t I start now? Not quit what aids in the eating process but just start? Somewhere! Anywhere!

What do I have to lose if nothing comes of it? What do I have to gain?

Tile # 76 called me an idiot.

I closed my eyes and did another crunch set.

Satisfied 31?

Not until your ass stops looking like a potato sack in jeans, he countered.

Each exhale on the way up brought me back to the #56 Dream Tile. I just wasn’t ready to let it go that easily.

But I kept getting these annoying and unwanted popcorn signals in my head.

Remember the time she threw her back out trying to imitate a move on So You Think You Can Dance, sneered #37?

She can’t carry the Ralph Kramden/Fred Flintstone spirit forever, # 44 added snidely

How many times can a person re-invent herself anyway? # 12 wanted to know

Hey! She can do anything she wants to! #56 cheered (was that my mother up there?).

I think that #47 and #12 were going to get into it at any moment as they debated heatedly on this latest dream being the direct result of a lack of sex.

And who will want to read her stuff? An unnumbered thought shot out.

Keep breathing. Okay, eight more crunches and let’s add eight butt lifts while I’m already down here (it’s not just about lifting my spirits these days #31 not-so-kindly reminded me once more).

My hopes refused to be doused. Let’s at least do some research on how I can get started before giving up. If nothing else #56 is practical.

If I can’t put in ten hours a day on my forever-in-progress-novel then why not start with a short blog here and there? An article? A guest post?

Can’t get paid for blogging! #12 rudely announced.

Why not? #56 and I wondered.

O.K., so maybe it won’t be the lottery winnings that Tile #15 was hoping for but getting paid something for doing what I love would be worth it. A personal win if not monetary gain!

That’s right! #56 atta-girled me.

Um, Hello!!!!!…. Realistic Police up here…are you kidding me? #37 screamed down.

I was just about to take a shoe and smash it up #37’s square ass when Tile #25 yelled that he was hungry…oh that was my son.

I gave the Be-Right-There call to the wild and remained flat and unmoving for just a few seconds more. I had to pull my thoughts together.

Other than my labored breathing, there was complete silence in the room and surprisingly from the above ceiling gallery.

I braced myself for the continuing negative onslaught.

Nothing came.

Hmmm….. I guess it is all me now.

I squatted, and rose slowly allowing the positive attitude of ceiling Tile #56 to fill me as I let my head be the last to come up. I took a final cool down moment and came up with a powerful and well resolved exhale.

I was ready.

It felt good to get out of my own way for a minute. I can and will do it.

The result of my efforts may never get to the front page for all to monitor and witness but it will definitely make front-page headlines in my world.

Take that #37!

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