Sunday, June 28, 2009


Do you want to know how I celebrate becoming a fitness instructor?  

A pizza delivered to my house and a sale made on  Craigslist.  

Do I know how to party or what?!?!!


This weekend I spent 16 hours in training classes in order to get some group exercise certifications.  Sunday morning I had to wake up at 4 AM in order to make the 2.5 hour drive to Columbus for a full day of training.  Back to back grueling training days have left me exhausted in addition to the other 5 days I worked out this week.  Intense doesn't even being to explain it, but I totally love what I am going to be doing and it is worth every ounce of effort and sweat that was poured out.  

So when I got home Sunday night, Jason left to go out to eat with his long time buddy who was in town visiting (prior band mates in high school) and of course I was too tired to make anything for dinner.  I did what any sensible half-awake zombie person would do and ordered an extra large New York style cheese pizza for dinner.  So much for the brutal work outs this weekend. 

I plopped down (literally) with my pizza and my 2nd glass of wine and checked my email.  To my surprise I had a request for an item I posted on Craigslist.  A few emails back and forth later, we made arrangements for them to stop by the house in the next 15 minutes to pick up their purchase.  

"Sweet!" I thought to myself - "I'm making $5!  That will pay for a fourth of the pizza I just bought."  

I look over a few more emails, check my facebook page, drink some more wine and double check the last email I sent to Mr. Craigslist Purchaser.    

As I blink through my bloodshot, dried-out eyeballs, I noticed that I mistyped my address.  


Luckily the dude left me his home phone number, so I quickly give it a ring, hoping he hadn't left his house yet.  No such luck.  I gave it a second try with no answer once again. 

I took the item outside and placed it at the end of my driveway and went back in side to check out Mapquest and look up the incorrect address I entered to see if I could intercept him on his way.  Well, Mapquest is retarded or maybe it's just me.  (Don't respond to that.)  It showed a house on the map right down the street from me.  I grab my slice of pizza and cell phone and start trotting down the street barefoot.  

Hillbilly central.

I got down the street to where Tardquest said the house was, but no such place existed.  So I merrily scampered back home and waited for the next vehicle to pass by.  

As I am standing there next to the item, still eating my slice of pizza, a car drives by.  I wave to them, point to the item, and shrug my shoulders.  I sort of looked like a ravenous, crazed, black market street dealer ready to make a sale.  The people just looked at me like I belonged in a mental institute and kept driving.  

A 2nd vehicle drove past and this one was going slower than usual, so I knew it was very probable that it was my buyer.  I did my wave and shrug and the guy looks at me at first with a puzzled look and then stops and rolls his window down.   

He mentions the incorrect address and I explain to him what a freak I am and that I've been up since 4 am and need to learn how to type correctly.  

We both got a good laugh out of it.  And that, my friends, is how I celebrated my demanding, yet rewarding weekend.     

Saturday, June 20, 2009

A guest post

Today's post is brought to you by a special guest.  My dad.  He keeps a journal and writes in it every day recapping the day's events.  I guess you could technically call him a blogger, without actually posting it online for the world to see.  He's an underground blogger.  I'm trying to bring him over to the other side - muahahaha!  

I've had the pleasure of reading some of his material and really enjoy the way he writes.  He's got some good stories!

They just got back from a week long vacation to Rhode Island with a few other couples.  The story below is from one of the nights they were there.  And just to clarify: 
  • Linda is my mom's best friend (since they were kids) 
  • Janet is my mom
  • This is written from my dad's perspective


Life after 60

Just when you think the day’s adventures are over, we can always count on Linda to bring on another one.  This one started with a number of federal agents escorting a naval admiral to a restaurant right across the driveway from our time share.  They were still there after several hours when we decided to walk over to our friends time share.  As we came out, the feds and the admiral were in the process of leaving.  The vehicles they were using had flashing lights which attracted the attention of passersby, not to mention the suited guys with the serious faces.  

After they pulled away, Linda, Janet and I were standing in front of the Red Parrot restaurant where the admiral had his dinner.   A coupe of young fellows came up and asked Linda what was going on and who the important person was.  As Linda was explaining to them what she knew, out of nowhere (as Linda put it afterwards) she let loose with a very harsh sounding shot of gas.  (That’s a fart for those of you who prefer bluntness.) I was standing a good 30 feet away and was surprised at the decibel level at which it was delivered.  The two fellows she was talking to said, “Whoa!” (one of them even jumped back) and quickly walked away not waiting to hear the rest of the story or anything else she might have stored up.  

I disappeared around the corner doubled over in laughter.  Janet was so impressed by the sheer power of it, all she could say was, “Awesome!”  And poor Linda was trying to understand how something that powerful could appear without warning. From then on for the next 10 minutes, all we could do was wheeze.  

Tourists... honestly!

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Ode to the dog (Wordless Wednesday - sort of, okay not really)

This is Fritz the D . O . G.

Upon the couch is where he likes to be.

His world revolves around around his Daddy and toys.

Much to his pleasure but to others he annoys.

He's one quirky mutt to say the least, 

and he's sure to give kisses to whoever he meets.

The boys can't get enough of this pup they adore,

And the feeling is mutual 'cause he comes back for more.

For more Wordless Wednesday click here.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Lost in the lyrics (again)

Awhile back I posted about misunderstanding the lyrics of songs.  Since then I have realized a few things. 

 1) My hearing is not what it used to be.  Actually that's not true.  I've been hearing the wrong lyrics in songs since I was a kid and it continues to this day.

Let's try this.

2) Artists sing about strange things.  Or maybe it's just me thinking I am hearing strange things.

For instance, why would you sing about dying without chew?  I mean tobacco chew is what could actually make you die, not living without it.  PM Dawn sure has that song all wrong.  

Oh wait, what's that they're singing?  "I'd die without you."  Ah!  That makes a bit more sense.

And that other 80's song by Til Tuesday.  "Hush, hush, keep it down now, this is scary."  What is so scary that you have to keep quiet about? I heard this song on our satellite radio the other day.  The nice (and humbling) thing about satellite radio is that they display the artists name and song title on the screen.  That is when I learned the truth about this song called "Voices Carry".  So that's why she's singing about keeping her voice down.  

Should I continue on with this embarrassment?  Oh, why not!  

I have always liked Prince or is he still going by The Artist Formerly Known as Prince (insert some strange symbol)?  Either way he provided me with an opportunity to get lost in the lyrics of "Little Red Corvette."  Now I have to give myself some credit here - this song was popular when I was just a kid.  And my family was friends with another family who had a daughter named Colette.  Are you starting to follow me on this one yet?  So every time I would hear this song I always thought it was about this girl and Prince was singing, "Live it Colette." 

I'll be the first to admit it - yes, I am a dork.  And proud of it!

How about one more for old time's sake?  Then I promise I am done and will keep the rest to myself.  Deal?  

There's a trend here - 80's music.  You've got to love Mr. Mister.  My brother had one of their records, so I had my chance to listen to it over and over again which could have benefited me in getting the right lyrics down, but instead it ingrained the wrong lyrics in my head for eternity.  Remember the song Kyrie? Great song, right?  But man did I have those lyrics all wrong.  This is what they are actually singing: 
"Kýrie, eléison, down the road that I must travel
Kýrie, eléison, through the darkness of the night"
But my twisted and young mind sang it this way, "Carry a laser down the road that I must travel.  Carry a laser through the darkness of the night." 

You never know when you're going to need a laser, kind of like a flashlight.

You can stop laughing at me now.  

Do you know what the definition of 'Kyrie eleison' is?  

It's Greek for "Lord, have mercy." 

Maybe you could all show me some of that mercy right about now.          

Monday, June 15, 2009

You know what they say about kids

They sure say the darndest things.  Here we go again with another installment from my boys.

While in the car Luke announced that he doesn't like O's.  I asked what's wrong with the letter O?  And he responded, "Because they're too O-ey."

Luke and I were outside and a guy runs past us with his shirt off.  Luke saw him and right as he was within 12 feet of us he said, "That guy's strong!"

While driving in the van on a beautiful day I had the windows down.  We drove past a garden center where there was a large fresh pile of strong pungent smelling mulch.  As the smell entered our van Luke said, "Pee-u.  What's that smell?"  I told him it was the mulch.  Then he asked, "Does mulch fart?"

During the summer months at the church we go to we bring Taylor and Carson with us while Luke goes to his pre-school class.  During Carson's first "adult" church experience he was very curious and was looking around.  The offering plate was being passed and after it came to us Carson said, "I thought they were passing around pie."

During the same church service and after sitting and listening to the pastor speak for a half hour, Carson leaned over to me and asked, "Mom, is that guy getting tired yet?"

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Who can I yell at next?

Our garage sale was a success for the most part.  I made a decent amount of cash and got rid of a lot of junk treasures.  And the larger items that didn't sell at the sale I posted on Craigslist, which I was a little hesitant at first from the last situation that I encountered, but I figured how much could someone try and rip me off from a Thomas the Train bedding set.  Really?

Granny panties stopped by for a visit and to check out my book collection.  I almost didn't recognize her with pants on.  She spent a whopping $0.75 on some tea light candles.   

The kids each scored some cash from selling cookies and water at the sale.  Plus I was a nice mom and gave the boys $10 each since they somewhat willingly parted with their toys.  

Today the boys wanted to go to Target and spend their money that was burning a hole in their pocket.  They're totally not savers, which I suppose I should work on that concept with them, but I felt they deserved a reward.

Carson and Luke each picked out a new light saber to add to the collection of light sabers we already own.  We're starting our own Star Wars gang so if your kids ever come over for a play date don't worry if you forget to bring a light saber - we've got you covered.  Plus we have plenty of costumes and other props to make it a fun time for all.

At the check out I wasn't paying attention to the boys which I thought were right behind me.  So when I heard one of them ask if we could buy a popcorn I sternly without looking said, "No - not today."  I look up at the cashier who is chuckling and then look back at my boys who were not behind me like I thought they were.  So, yeah I totally just yelled at someone else's kid who was now clinging to his mother's leg.  Meanwhile my boys are ahead of me checking out the popcorn.  

My face sure matched the color of the bulls-eye as I walked out of Target. 

When we got home I noticed that a bowl of soup that Taylor had left on the counter was now spilled all over the kitchen floor and sticky dog prints were mixed in the mess.  And this occurred after I spent the entire morning deep cleaning the entire house for company we have coming tonight.  I had already mopped the floors and now have to re-mop that area.  And of course the dog is going to need a bath because who wants to pet a dog that's sticky and smells like soup?  

Do I yell at Taylor who left the soup out or yell at the dog who helped herself?  Why don't I just go back to Target and pick my next victim? That seems to be working well for me.    

Monday, June 08, 2009

Granny panties and dentures

Maybe that should be the name of my blog since it's been ages since I last posted.  It's kind of catchy don't you think?  

But no, I'm not changing my name again.  

I decided to have a garage sale this past weekend.  I made signs and posted them throughout the surrounding neighborhoods along with some of the signs I had purchased at the store.  I placed an ad in the 'local' paper which ended up being the wrong paper.  I found out there are like 6 other local papers that the main garage sale people look at.  How was I supposed to know that when all we get is the Wall Street Journal?  Hey, I could have advertised globally!  

The night before the sale my oldest son Taylor and I decided to drive around and check out how the signs looked.  In the adjoining neighborhood, I noticed that two of my signs were missing.  My first thought was that maybe some punk kids took them as a prank, but I recalled that this was a retirement community so I decided to investigate further.  

I pulled up to a neighbor's house where a couple was out in their yard and asked them if they knew anything about garage sale signs being confiscated.  That's where I first learned of the sign Nazi.  Supposedly this guy goes around and is the neighborhood watch man who will take down any sign because he's crazy part of the home owners association and in that neighborhood it is written in the bi-laws that garage sales are not allowed.  


I am thankful I don't live in that part of the neighborhood.  

After finding out about this old dude and where he lived I was hot and ready for a confrontation.  Yes, I went to his house (with my son) and knocked on his door at 8pm Thursday evening.

An older lady answers the door in a t-shirt and underwear!  Total granny panties.  As much as I tried not to look down I couldn't believe what I was seeing and not wanting to see.  You know what they say about a car wreck - you just can't believe what you're seeing and can't look away.  That is what I felt like.  

I asked if the man of the house was home, but she said he was asleep.  So I continued to ask if she knew of any reason someone would take down my garage sale signs.  She immediately got defensive saying she didn't know anything about the signs, but there are no garage sales allowed in the neighborhood.  I explained to her that I placed my sign on the outside of the subdivision not even in any one's yard.  Then she told me to go to her garage where she opened it and walked out (still in her underwear) holding my hand made sign.  (At this point Taylor decided to wait in the van - he'd seen enough.)

Sure - she didn't know anything about signs.  Puh-lease!  

At this same time another couple pulls up asking about their signs that they placed in the neighborhood.  The three of them start to argue and out comes the man I originally came to see.  He walks out of the garage in his robe and slippers and I notice he is placing his dentures in his mouth.  He begins to yell at these other people and obscenities are flying.  All I wanted to do at this point was crawl away with my sign.  

The other neighbors decide to drive away and the robe-wearing-denture man walks into his garage and comes back out holding my other store bought sign.  I was so excited to get both of my signs back that I almost forgot I saw a lady in her undies and a man insert his teeth.  

The lady instantly changes her demeanor and starts apologizing profusely.  She grabs my hand and starts acting like my best friend, asking about my garage sale and if I am selling any books.  

What. just. happened?  

I thank her for my signs and start backing away making some excuse that I need to get home.  

I had to apologize to my son for having to see what he saw.  He might be scarred for life.  But I was glad I decided to follow through, even if it meant meeting some crazy, rule-abiding, half-naked, toothless neighbors.