First day back at work....after Va-kay.

Is it just me or does going back to work the first day after vacation.....SUCK ASS.

Yes.

Egads. I know. I said ass. I rarely swear on this blog (for fear my grandmother will maybe one day read this blog of mine and tell me she'll come clean my mouth with soap. It will be proof that I'm not a totally classy lady, because in real life, truck drivers got nothing on me.)

Anway, back on point here.

Seriously. I went back to work and felt like being there but not really "being there" (insert air hand quotation for more effect). Like an out of body experience watching yourself do the work. I only wish I had a margarita while watching myself.

Slapping my face. Back to story.

I walk in and everyone has to tell me everything I've missed (may I just put my purse down first and look at my desk for a moment), and then listen to adults (my staff)bicker (for God's sake people, GROW the EFF UP. The children (ages 1-3)on my vacation played nicer together than you all and those with children know sometimes that's hard to do.)

Maybe I'm getting too old for my job. I really did feel like I was channeling Danny Glover from Lethal Weapon...



I know. Stop my whining.

I just had some days off. I should be refreshed and all rose colored happy walking into work today. Well, I don't wanna.

Humpfh. (crossing my arms with major pouty lips.)

How about that!?!

Come back next time for Ramblers kick and scream tantrum on the ground when she stays up past her vacation bed time.

(I kid)

I'mmmmm backkkkkkkk.

Yes.

Vacation is over.

I'm back to my daily life. (Hint that I didn't hit it big on the penny machine in Lake Tahoe)

Of eating healthy again (cause you know vacation doesn't call for healthy eating...unless a chocolate chip bagel with honey cream cheese and Inn N Out Burgers are somehow on the surprise you can lose weight eating this list.)

Having to help guests that were born to make me miserable when they walk into my restaurant. (yes these people exist! It was great getting to eat and spot them out and know I wouldn't have to explain why the napkin was off kelter or that the salt wasn't filled to the top.)

Picking up doggy poo. (and fending off ninja cats. One sat by my step welcoming me home, letting me know it knows I'm back.)

And catching up on my bloggy reading (and writing).

I know it's Thursday and I usually post the Think About It stuff but well....you understand.

I just got back from vacation :)

And to the lovely Janana Bee (everything you want to know about raising boys), MammaDucky (a yummy recipe post), So Not Mom-a-licous (how we are going to get our two kids together), and Muppet Soul (Men we'd do dead or alive).

Thank you for watching the place.

Who doesn't want a little Muppet Soul? Guest Post #4

Oh blog people. Are you in for a treat today! I don't know or understand this type of blog love crush but I have it for Muppet Soul. And she crushes back. If you don't know this fantabulous woman blogger you must go now. Well after you read this post....but really.

This ends my guest posting peeps. I'll be returning back to full duty tomorrow (boo hoo).

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Good day, my little Ramblitas & itos.

Today's guest post brought to you by Muppet Soul. ( That's me - just thought the 3rd person would give it a sense of occasion).

Miniature awkward introduction: Hi kids! My name is Muppet. I'm a 27 year old writer who lives in Los Angeles. On my blog, you will find my humiliating dating history ( just-the-tip in your belly button, anyone?), photo walk-throughs of Hollywood landmarks, the occasional paranormal story, and hostility towards whatever I see fit. I love bad weather ( was L.A. a bad choice?), public breakdowns, and Mexican hot chocolate which I can't seem to find anywhere. I keep repeating this in my guest posts - but if you are in any way muppety (covered in felt, eggs on your vocal chords, or walk with your arms moving independently of your body) we should be friends. Also? I love Rambler. I would like to let my hands ramble all up in her blouse.

So here I am, depositing some secrets like a suburban family man at a whore house. Rambler and I are both old married ladies ( try not to hold this against me). So naturally, as a guest poster, I thought we should discuss men I would like to do, marriage be damned. Originally I was going to write "Dead men I would do, Death be damned", but decided to mix in some live ones as well.




10 Men I would Do, Marriage Be Damned (In Random Order)



1. River Phoenix



Let's start with a dead one.

I know what you're thinking - the fact that he's been dead for 15 years might make a tryst slightly problematic.

But, as those-who-read-my-blog know, River Phoenix, in my mind, is the pinnacle of hotness, the Buddha-of-Hotness, the hot little hippie all hot-dead celebrities should strive to be.

In my fantasy, I am 15, 16... Old enough to be a little whorish, young enough to be a virgin. (Okay, maybe 14). I meet him, somehow, on the set of Stand by Me ( come to think of it I don't think there are any ladies, much less muppety-ones in that movie, but say I'm the one lady-extra).

He woos me.. He compliments me... He brushes the hair out of his face repeatedly just so I can watch, we openly mock Corey Feldman together. He insists on taking my virginity, and after brilliantly acting like there's something to contemplate, I oblige. He throws me down in the grass somewhere, and I let all of him flow through me like a.. well, you know.

This provides me with a much better virginity story than "I was watching Silence of the Lambs in some basement, and he had trouble getting it up and blamed it on the Salsa".



2. Brad Pitt


An oldie, but a goodie.

The fantasy must be pre-Jennifer Aniston, because who wants that sort of tabloid trouble.. Also, in the fantasy, I'm just as pretty as he is, because who wants that sort of blow to the ego...

We're spies in some south-american country... Some sort of gang war or government revolt breaks out, and we pretend to be husband and wife to avoid further questions as to why we are in this colorful country to begin with.

We end up sharing a bottle of Tequila in a rundown cafe, and long after the cafe has closed and the rain has started pouring down, I straddle him on a chair, mercilessly kissing and humping him. But, you know, sexy.

Actually that's a scene from Mr. & Mrs. Smith, but still.



3. Angelina Jolie


So she's not a man, screw you, it's my list and you know she'd be on yours, too.

Angelina decides, that despite her Mommy status, she is going to return to her weird-roots, and rejuvenate herself as the strange, slightly-dark Angelina.

She tells the ever-understanding-Brad that she cannot take the confines of being a monogamous heterosexual, and needs to appoint a girlfriend... When he asks who, she insists on a weird-little-muppety-writer. I get the weird-and-pouty Angelina while Brad babysits. She carries my blood around her neck and pouts wherever she goes.



4. Steve from Ghost Hunters


All together now - who??

Steve is my T.V. husband. He's this lovely man on this lovely show on Sci Fi, Ghost Hunters. He's an ex-cop who's a paranormal investigator, and gives personal-interviews with the egotistical manner & seriousness of a hardened politician. He's covered in tattoos, and is afraid of everything (flying, bugs, heights, etc. etc. etc.) and quivers at the thought of anything but ghosts. He's not the hottest guy in the world, but something about him has Muppety appeal.

In my fantasy, he insists I come along to all haunted locations, and when they're not filming we sneak off to weird places and he talks dirty to me about ectoplasm.

(My friend who works on the show insists that he's slightly dickish, and to not laminate my list if he's on it... I want proof!)



5. Johnny Depp


Another classic, a forever-kind-of-love. In my fantasy, he does me anywhere and everywhere, in his Jack Sparrow costume and saying weird things to me in french. Afterward, he would roll me a cigarette.



6. Matthew Perry



I know it's a little weird. And to tell you the truth, I don't know if I really want to have sex with Matthew Perry - I think it's more that I would like to have sex with Chandler Bing. The man makes me giggle in a non-threatening way and I have a funny FETISH.

If it were Matthew Perry.. Let's see... It's 2002 or so, and I accompany Brad Pitt when he guest stars on the show ( because, you know, after our South American affair, we're still friends). Mr. Perry slips me a note, and I go to his dressing room. He could not BE any more naked.

And if we're talking Chandler Bing, I guess in the fantasy, I'm Monica.



7. Jordan Catalano... err, I mean...


While we're on the subject of characters-more-than-actors...I realize Jared Leto is gorgeous, but Jordan Catalano is the stuff of DREAMS.

I want to be Angela Chase... I want to stalk Jordan Catalano in the halls of a Pennsylvania High School... I want to watch him lean against things, sigh dramatically, and take ten minutes to string together a sentence..

Then, in front of Rayanne, Ricky, Brian, and the whole damn school, I want him to walk down the hall towards me - in slow motion - and take my hand. And if I'm operating Angela Chase, here, I WOULD give him my virginity ( or at least omit the fact that River Phoenix had already taken it).



8. Matt Damon


Circa Good Will Hunting. It would not be an act of good will to give him a good humping.



9. Leonardo Dicaprio


Frankly, I think he's a bit of a douche bag... I loathe men who date models exclusively.. This is not a good indicator that he has an actual personality.

But the pre-douche Leo, the Leo of "Romeo & Juliet".. The Leo with the hair in his face, the Leo who could fall in love with a Claire Danes (damn her - she was ridiculously lucky for awhile there)...

I would wash his hair, then I'd devour him. Maybe gnaw off an earlobe.



10. Vince Vaughn/Will Ferrell/Steve Carell


Like I said, I have a funny-fetish... And since neither of these men particularly stand out as way-more-hot-than the other, let's just do them all, shall we?

Somehow, all three would insist that I was the love of their lives (and 2/3 would leave their wives). I would not be able to choose between them - like that episode of Golden Girls where Dorothy (sob) can't decide between Lyle Waggoner and Sonny Bono. Rather than lose me to another man, they all begin to woo me mercilessly.

Vince is a non-stop comedy routine, Will dirty talks me like that filfthy professor character, and Steve, oh Steve - Steve dances. Eventually they all agree to a four-way, and in the end, I choose... Oh hell, who do I choose?



And that, kids, is my list of men I would do despite being happily married. Maybe my husband could video tape.

Take care of my Rambler, or I'll take out my sexual-celebrity-fantasies on your leg.

So Not Mom-a-licous....Guest Post #3

Welcome friends to the third installment of my guest posting while on vacation. I'm hoping you all had a lovely Memorial Day Weekend!

I stalked Mom-a-licous until she HAD to come over and friend me. We decided we were very much alike and promised forever friendships. (well, I did anyway....still waiting for her to to check the box yes). Please enjoy this hilariously awesome lady today.

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Hey everybody! When The Rambler asked me to guest post, I was so excited! No one has ever asked me to do something of this magnitude. I mean a chance to whore my blog out on another person's blog?! And one with such a great following. Awesome about sums it up for me!

Of course, at first, I wasn't in the least bit nervous because it wouldn't be my fault if I bombed. Well, even if it was my fault she was the one who asked, right? I wondered if I should talk about things that I talk about on my blog. (Isn't that like great product placement? I know, that's what I was thinking! Seriously though, some of them are funny posts. Kind of.)

So then I started thinking about what I was going to write. And my deadline began to approach fast. I started to get a little nervous while I racked my brain about what topics to write about. I thought about asking her, but the reason she wanted a guest poster was so she didn't have to think about that part!

Then the anxiety started kicking in and when I get anxious I tend to talk very fast and in very long run on sentences where it seems like I never come up for air until I literally can't breathe anymore at which point I might stop to gasp for a small breath but only in order to finish the one long continuous thought I was trying to get across. Yeah, kind of like that.

I figured I would talk about how awesome The Rambler is. I know we all know this, but I mean it genuinely. Every time I think of her, I always picture her smiling. Never in a bad mood. And on top of being funny, she always has such nice things to say and such great words of encouragement.

But then I realized that I think we already know all of her qualities and how she can't handle cat attacks and how all the boys she works with are obsessed with b0Obs. So I figured I would maybe start going into how Lil' Rambler is just adorable. And her and my son, The Kid, are very close in age. As mothers, we can relate to so much on so many levels.

Then, as I was thinking about how charming our two children are, I started thinking about what it would be like if someday they met. Maybe my family would be on vacation in Hawaii, and we would eat at The Rambler's restaurant. Somehow, The Rambler and I would recognize each other. We'd introduce our kids. They'd fall in love. Next thing you know I have a timeshare in Hawaii that has The Rambler's address.

I started picturing how adorable my grandchildren would be. The Kid's blue eyes, Lil' Rambler's curly locks. I was going to morph their two little pictures together to see what my future grandchildren would look like. *sigh* They would be "Ramb-a-licious". Heavenly. We could plan summer and holiday vacations together. I've always wanted to visit Hawaii. Now I could maybe live there! (sidenote from Rambler..How SICK is that? the good hip kind of sick....Ramb-a-licious!!! I love her)

Then I realized that there was a possibility that this could all boarder on stalking charges. Not that I can drop everything in a minute to jump on a plane to fly to Hawaii to show up at her restaurant just to meet her. But stranger things have happened.

So Rambler can I have another week to think about a really good topic to write about? Just let me know!




Ahhh, how I heart thee. Forever yours Mom. Forever yours.

Yum Yum MammaDucky...Guest Post #2

What can I NOT say about Mammaducky? Like Janana BEE we've been bloggy pals for a while now. That almost feels like eternity in bloggy time. MD is absolutely a talented, witty, can cook, hysterical, mean mommy fighting chica who I'm blessed to know. I knew instantly what I wanted from her. As this blog will never have a HOW TO COOK THIS post it was obvious I would beg her for one.

Read on friends, and let your tummies rumble from the yumminess of it all.

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First of all, I need to say how incredibly honored I am that our friend, The Rambler, asked me to do a guest post while she is away. Friggen awesome! I giggled like a little school girl when she asked me. I then proceeded to obsess about which recipe I would post. So many options! So many people to impress! I narrowed it down to two different pies: banana split pie or caramel apple pie.

I chose this one

Don't worry kids, check my blog in the very near future for the other recipe!

This pie is SUPER easy and friggen yummy. It never fails to impress at BBQs or other gatherings. How 'bout y'all bring this bad boy to your Memorial Day soirees!

Ok, here we go.

Run out and getcha some:

1 Graham cracker pie crust

1 pkg cream cheese, softened (you can limit the fat content by choosing low fat or fat free cream cheese, but where is the fun in that?)

1/2 Cup sugar

2-3 bananas, sliced on the diagonal

1/2 can crushed pineapple, drained

small container of cool whip

Maraschino cherries

pecans/peanuts/walnuts/no nuts ;)
Hershey's syrup

Beat the cream cheese and sugar in a small bowl. GENTLY spread the cream cheese mixture into the pie crust. Layer the sliced bananas on top of that, followed by the pineapple. Spread Cool Whip on top.

On a paper towel, drain the cherries. Do not skip this step or your pie will look, ummm, interesting when those cherries start to bleed their juice everywhere. Plop the cherries on top, use as many as you fancy. Sprinkle the nuts on, or skip the nuts all together. Drizzle the chocolate syrup on top of the whole thing and you're done...no seriously, that's it.

See man, I told you it was easy. Easy as pie, if you will. ZING!!! Man I'm funny. Maybe not.

**Side note** If you're going to a bigger event, or you just feel like you need MORE of this tasty treat you can crush 2 sleeves of graham crackers, mix that up with 1 stick of melted butter and press it into a 9 x 13 pan. Then just double everything else in the recipe and you're good to go.

Enjoy.

That seems easy. But around these Rambler parts easy and cooking/baking don't come easy. Oh Mammaducky if I could only live next door. I'd eat like a queen. Cause you KNOW me and Team Rambler would be knocking at your back door for meals :)

The Lovely Janana Bee. Guest Post #1

Aloha Bloggy pals. Welcome to 1 of 4 guest posts being done while I Va-kay somewhere else. Yes.

I know.

I'm in Hawaii.

Why do I want to go anywhere else for Va-kay? Even an island girls needs too see the world.

Janna and I have been reading each other since I started back up last year. You can't NOT love this woman. It's like having a long time friend around who really 'knows' me and my blog.

So without further adieu...The first lovely lady to grace your eyes.

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When the Rambler asked me to write a post for her while she vacationed in California, I was shocked. Not because she asked me to post for her, but she lives in Hawaii and she's vacationing in California? Why? (I kid, I kid.) I was genuinely honored to be asked, and the Rambler is one of my favorite bloggers.

So because many of you do not know me, let me introduce myself. My name is Janna, and I live in a house filled with testosterone. In my household we have two little boys and my husband, and then little old me. I grew up in a female centric house and worked at female centric jobs all my life, and so the male species has always been somewhat of an enigma to me. My oldest is four years old, and I am just now starting to get the hang of living in a house full of boys. As I am such an expert- (yeah right)- let me tell you what I have learned over the years:

Toys!
No matter how many toys you have, you can never have enough balls. Make sure to get as many balls in as many sizes as you can. This goes for trucks as well. You must also own one lawnmower for each child in the house. When your children's father and your son(s) start ganging up on you to invest in a riding lawn mower, feign deafness. Or ignore. And repeat.

The Wiggly, Slimy, Creepy-Crawly Stuff!
Worms. Get to know them, love them, and understand one day, even in Michigan in January you might find that your son has filled his coat pockets with the slimy things. (True story. I shudder just remembering it!) Also be prepared for your child to be fascinated by spiders, ants, and any other insect that you find disgusting!

Photo by Shygantic

Potty Time!
When removing your infant boy's diaper, take it off, and then put it back on quickly, unless you want to be showered in pee. I know you have probably heard this one before, but the moment you get complacent and forget to is the moment they decide to shower you!

Once it is finally time to potty train your son, resign yourself to the fact that boys are hard to potty train and your son might wear diapers until he's five. Then, when he potty trains sooner than that, you will feel like you are he is a genius. Once your son is potty trained, scrub around your toilet often. I think you all KNOW what I am talking about!

(Side note: Hide your feminine products, otherwise they might become craft projects/science experiments/nose plugs.)


The Other Child- i.e., The Father!
I cannot forget to mention the other little boy man in your life. He becomes quite the helper immediately after your son is born. He makes sure everything looks right "down there", you know, in case the doctor misses anything. Once the child is "much older" (about 3 months) also makes sure to inform his son of all the important things in life sports.

If your son has no interest in sports, remind your partner of all the cool interests he has (trucks, for example) and tell your partner not to worry, he will be interested in sports later on in life. And then pray. Or have another boy, and pray he is interested in sports. I am thankful for my youngest son for having an early interest in all sports, and thankful that I have my oldest son who also thinks (like me) that hockey games are boring as h-e-double hockey sticks.

Those Awkward Conversations!
As far as the sex talk, breathe a sigh of relief that you are not in charge of the birds and the bees story- leave that up to the Father. Your excuse for not helping with this: "it makes more sense to have you talk about it, because you are a guy".

However, understand that at one point you will have to have a weird discussion about breasts and nipples that you never wanted to have. Just do your best to trudge through it and then wipe it from your memory.

The Good, Bad and the Ugly
At some point you will think that your son is perfect and he will never meet anyone that will get him and be special enough for him. Stop that, otherwise you might become THAT Mother when you are older, that overprotective Mother-in-law that drives your son's partner crazy. Try to remind yourself that you're son is not as perfect as you think.

(Side note: If you possess the ability, make sure to teach your son to cook. His partner will thank you for it.)

Most Importantly...
Feel lucky that you have a little boy, because the stories are true- Mommies and their boys have a special bond, one that is different from Mommies and daughters. Little boys are incredibly sweet when they want to be. (Also be glad that you never have to suffer the teenage years with a daughter.)



There you have it. My insights into the "masculine mystique". I'm sure you learned a lot. You can thank me later.

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Please. Go stop by her place today. Show some love love love.

Mrs. BEE. YOU ROCK!

V to the A to the KAY baby....

That's right bloggy pals.

It's MY turn to go on vacation and leave the islands most people want to come to.

Where does one go ,I often get, if you live in Hawaii?

Some joke that Las Vegas is Hawaii's 8th island.

I'm sorta going close to there.

Lake Tahoe, Nevada.

I'll be putting some pennies in a slot machine.

Maybe going large by putting down a dollar at one time in the quarter machine (I know, I know...don't go crazy right? :)

After all that small time casino stuff, Team Rambler and Extended Team Rambler (along with sister Anti-bloggedy) will be traveling to San Francisco to visit with Grandpa/ma Rambler and attend a high school graduation for the youngest cousin.

This will not leave me time for much blogging, reading, commenting. But don't you worry my friends.

FOUR fantastically fabulous ladies will be holding the fort down while I'm gone.

Janana Bee
The Secret life of the Bees


MammaDucky @ Princess & Pickles
(A recipe post...and lord knows we haven't seen one of THOSE around here. Can we say meal in a box anyone?)

So Not Mama-Licious

Muppet Soul

Thank YOU ladies!!

Okay. I'm lying if I say I won't check this at all. I'll poke my head in here just to make sure everyone's playing nice :)

House hunting blues....Beyond strike threes.

Where do I start?

It's pretty much the standard dream. A girl wistfully dreams of growing up and meeting Prince Rambler and hopefully owning a castle with a 2 car garage and a white picket fence.

Am I right?

Paradise is an expensive place to live.

So when I found a place that seemed to good to be true.

It was.

This is the short story of my first visit to a home to possibly purchase. EVER. Where I want to put a pretty serious amount of moola in front of you to let me take YOUR home away from you. So it can be MINE. (When I say serious. I just mean my serious. More than I've ever spent. Some of you may scoff at it's littleness. BUT HEY. Rant over.)

Shall we begin?

Can I just say that when the Realtor shows up AFTER you for their open house, this may not lead to a good start. We weren't even early? Strike one.

And then you walk in and the first steps you smell is a house that might have not seen fresh air in days. Maybe weeks. Strike two.

The carpets could HAVE been vacuumed at least for goodness sakes. It would have slightly helped the fact that the carpet was stained every color of the rainbow throughout the home. Strike three.

The place was obviously home to a family with small children. But would it have hurt to wipe the crayon/pen marks EVERYWHERE. I mean, I have a kid but I think if I really NEEDED to sell my house I'd have tried to repaint over it or gave it a courtesy wipe. An attempt. Something. Strike Four.

Did I mention it was HOT in there?

Are you asking WHY I made it that far and didn't walk out?

I became curious how much more the people didn't do and that this place needed to be sold?? How do you convince someone to purchase this home if you show it like this?

The garage was packed with crap. You couldn't put a motorcycle in it if you tried. This 'area' always was the laundry room area. You could open the dryer but what good is it if you can't even get to the washer?

How the hell do these people live like that?

My uncle/realtor, husband and I thanked the realtor for his time and walked quietly to the car. As soon as the car door was closed I said I'd rather drive 2 hours further then live in that craphole.

Isn't the concept. I sell, I make product pretty for sale, you come, you like, you buy? Or at least give them visuals for potential?

Wow. Pictures can be deceiving when your looking at them on a website.

Sigh.

Off to hunting, again.

Waiting for prices to go down, fingers crossed.

Hoping seven dwarfs will come my way and ask me and the rest of Team Rambler to move in to their spare 3 bedroom/2 bath townhouse for free and all we gotta do is clean the main house while they heigh ho to work?

Sigh again.

A girl can dream.

Good times to be had....a little risque from the Rambler

THIS made my entire night.

A couple was fighting in my outside cafe. The server had just put in their dinner order and was told by the host that she thought a table abruptly left. The server realizing it was just the one she rang in runs up to the kitchen to cancel the order.

While she's gone my bartender's table mentioned to her what the fight had been about and said how it ended.

No sheeshing you here.

The guest said...
"Uh Someone just stood up and said...'Your not doing it up my ass anymore? I hate you!' and uh stormed off."

Record screeching in your head?

(No they didn't!)

CAN YOU IMAGINE?

Eating innocently and this is said/screamed/cried by the neighboring table while arguing?

I would have choked on my food. Or at least snorted out my sodie pop.

You couldn't yell...

"You don't LOVE me anymore! I hate you"???

Well, I suppose we can rest assure that someone ISN'T putting it up someones butt!

Have a great weekend all!

Think About It Thursdays #19...What one thing would you tell YOU?

You know what time it is.

Lets recap some comments from last week's Face Transplant Question.

hotpants™ said...

First of all, I'm an organ donor. It would be hard to see the face of someone I love on someone else, but I'd be ok with it knowing it could save someone else's life, figuratively speaking. If I needed a face transplant, I'd certainly consider it.

That lady's husband should be rotting in jail for the rest of his life. Grrr!

I'm also an organ donor but never thought my face would be something someone would get. If I'm not alive, what do I need it for? So all yours....future someone who might need a face.

MammaDucky said...

WHAT?! He only got seven years?

*Note to self: look up that douche bag's address*

I would imagine this will make her life SOOO much easier. Still difficult, but easier.
As for the donor family I would hope that they are pleased that their loved one's passing was able to give this woman a second chance. Plus, it's not like she's going to LOOK like the donor. Well, at least that's what I've gathered.

Right. Seven Years? WTF! I was wondering about how much the face still 'looks' like it's original 'owner'.

Saskia said...

Identity is so much to do with what we look like, but it shouldn't be. It's what's inside each of us that makes us who we are. That lady with the face transplant will still see out of the same eyes as before. I could go through with a face transplant and I would be happy if any of my family donated their face to help someone after their death. I am on the organ donor list. My husband does not share my view that my body is just my shell. What a thought-provoking topic.

I agree with your view on identity. I think this is why I had such a conundrum going on in my noggin on how I really felt about this. But in the end...YOU are correct. We shall always look through our same eyes. With a deeper sense of self.

Kalei said...

The lady said she "forgave him" also. Then they asked what she felt about him getting out in 7 years..."lets not go there".....That guy deserves to be shot in the pee pee hole then be offered a spot on the pee pee transplant list, just to be told "I'm sorry, but not one man is willing to donate THAT organ.

Couldn't have said this better myself!!!

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Tonight this question was a topic around closing time at Ramblers work. And I just knew I wanted it to be OUR topic to this weeks Think About It Question.

"If you could pick a childhood age (infant - 18) you could go back to and give yourself ONE bit of advice, what AGE and what's your ONE bit of wisdom you want to tell yourself?"

Me and Honesty...having a moment.

I know why I've been the way I've been in bloggy land.

You know. Absent. Lame to zero posts.

I'm going to spill it.

So bear with me. Make sure you take a shot of your favorite liquid before you continue reading.

.

.

.

Did you get it yet?

.

.

.

Ready?

Remember a couple posts back I asked you to pray for some strength for me and a pal?

I met with a friend after work one night and we had the "heavy" talk. Which resulted in my pal asking me to help him call his parents (who I don't know)and break the ice for them that he was an alcoholic and he didn't know how to ask them for help.

And if I didn't do it, I'm not sure he would have found the strength and courage to make that first step.

Of course I did.

Because as a mother, I can only hope someone will reach out to my child if she needed help and would have the" no doubt about it lets call and do this together" thing.

Making THAT call was the absolute hardest thing I've done.

I introduced myself to his mother via cell phone (me in Hawaii, her somewhere in the Midwest), I explained the nature of my call, we cried, (mental note: be strong), I listened, she listened, she planned, , we exchanged any and all numbers.

When we hung up. I cried and cried and cried.

I looked at my child and cried more.

When I got a message from his father hours later telling me I did a good thing and he was glad I made the call for them.....I cried more.

I was mentally exhausted. My mind raced and raced and wondered how the following days would transpire. I don't understand why I cried as much as I did. But when you hear the pain in another mothers voice for her love, worry and concern for her child, it's hard not too.

It's been going. Not exactly the way his mother or I would like, but I hope hope hope he continues on the path he started on and stays.

To top the cake of my mental state my husband and I hadn't been getting along. It was wearing on me. I questioned a lot, I yearned for things from him that I couldn't get through our wall we had been slowly building.

Not to be left out, work has been adding it's two cents toward my senility.

Again, I've been not myself.

BUT.

Things works itself out. Or at least you see the light and make the trek toward it with faith and determination.

My friend has been doing okay. He's gotten support from people he hadn't expected. He realized he needs therapy because he is depressed and overwhelmed with 'growing up' and making the adults in his life happy.

My husband and I, after a very nasty email sent by myself, chiseled a bit of the wall and we have been moving forward instead of me standing in his crap.

Work...well....it's work.

Small steps.

I'm climbing out of the trenches and back in the blog saddle.

So THANK YOU all that read me when I'm funny, when I'm not, and all that in between.

And to my BFF. Thank you for just always (times infinity) listening. I heart you always.

It's about time I answer some of these....

I don't know what it is, but I can't sit down and write a decent post to save my life. Maybe I'm itching for my vacation and I can't focus.

I started two different topics tonight and usually somethings always gets me going and I feel really good about it.

But no. Not tonight.

I started searching the draft section of my blog. And found one that said.

"Do me, right here....I've been waiting....come on, over here...that's right...ahhhhhh."

Ahem, so back in March I asked my bloggy pals to ask me anything.


Lady With a View asked: Do you believe a woman's coffee is a direct reflection of the complexity of her personality? For example - let's say you are behind a woman who wants a a "Iced Single Vente, 7 pump Peppermint, Caramel Sauce Top and Bottom, Light Ice, No whip, Mocha" - do you judge her by this? What do you think of women who only add a little sweetner to their coffee? Are they simplistic? As a tag-a-long question - how complicated is your coffee and can you draw any correlation between it and your personality?

**This is the most random subject that I could think of and is inspired only by the fact that it is 7:50AM here and I just finished my coffee**

Mmmmmm.....Lady you know me so well. And I'll tell you. I have NO problem with the ones that stand in line that say:

"Grande no hotter then 150 degrees but no less then 140. Skim milk (must be have expiration date not within 7 days of today) added after stewing the espresso in the cup for 10 seconds, 1/2 pump of Sugar-Free Vanilla, 1/4 pump Sugar Free Dulce Luce and 1/4 pump Sugar Free Mocha. Leave 1 inch at the top."

Me?

Grande Espresso Truffle HOT with Whip.

Eh, I'm a bit of a simple girl.

The ONLY time I'll judge someone in the Starbucks coffee line is when they don't know what the hell their ordering....Move over. Read my rules before you stand in line.

Side note: My dear Lady With a View is no longer 'around' but I know she'll be back one day.

Shorty said...

What to ask you....hmmm. Ok, how bout this one... what is your biggest weakness? Not food or drink items, but an actual habit or vice that makes you feel horribly guilty each time you do or don't do whatever that weakness is.

Can you tell I'm hoping you'll have the same weakness as me so that I'll feel better about myself??? Guilted misery lovin' some company....

So I'm gonna say that my greatest weakness is also my greatest strength.

My kid.

I'm guilty if I don't spend enough quality time with her but yearn for a moment to myself and then back to guilty for wanting that and then back to wanting quality time....it's a vicious cycle I'm sure all mom's have.

Right?

Tooj said...

I have questions that you might have covered in other older posts. How did you end up in Hawaii? Have you always lived there?

My family is from Hawaii. I am a mix of Hawaiian-Chinese-German-French-Dutch.

My parents traveled as Resort Hotel managers and we lived places such as Rarotonga (near Tahiti) and the Micronesian Islands.

My sister and I grew up as Hotel Brats.

Ate in restaurants, rode in helicopters, went along on scuba diving expeditions (OK, me and Antibloggedy stayed above while the adults did the fun stuff), learned about cultures similar to Hawaiians but not, had a native Micronesian nanny take me with her on things such as catching Octopus while on her hip and laying jellyfish traps on the beach.

Do you see the octopus there on the right....and me on the hip?

:shuddering:

Thank you to everyone for their extremely FUNNY FUNNIES on Friday. Really cheered me up. Perfect way to go into Mothers Day Weekend.

Happy Mothers Day.

To all the Mommy's (&Daddy's who have to be both).

Kick off the shoes for a moment, put the vacuum down, let the dishwasher do the dishes, the laundry will still be there (ALWAYS...it NEVER goes away...EVER) and enjoy a moment of relaxation.

Lord knows we all deserve it :)

Happy Mothers Day!!

I need your funny to make me feel better.....

Things at work that made it to the blog.

A bug flew up my nose so fast it scared me into frantically swatting my nose (while staff looked on like I had just got out of the crazy bin). I felt the bug get stuck in my throat as I gagged from the disgustingness of it while trying to yak it out. No such luck.

My 21 year old cook endearingly means well and today told me he was sorry he thought I was 40ish like his mother. "You look old...I don't know." You stupid A-hole.

Wondered why one of my employees looked extremely exhausted and overheard another of her co-workers mention that exhausted employee and boyfriend got a new sex book and went through 'a good amount' of pages before work. :sigh: I remember those days....now it's all about what grocery store has the best sale for Lil Ramblers Pull Ups.

I'm in a bad bad funk this week.

(Hate+Discontent=Uber bitchy Rambler).

I've been searching for laughter to heal the battle wounds of my roller coaster of emotions my sanity has been on. Please, please, drop me a funny. Anything. I just want to read, be surprised and laugh out loud at any funny you have stored away for times such as these. (I know, slightly dramatic....but whadda ya expect?).

A dirty joke
A funny quote.
ANYTHING.

Rambler Inc., will resume normal me-ness next week.

Think About It Thursdays #18....Face Transplant.

Great comments on last weeks question on Are you as you are in real life as your blog life?

Funny in my mind said...

I am much more outgoing and friendly in my blog. I am not a social person in real life because I have too many fears of rejection.

We must be twins. I'm more of an observer myself and don't volunteer for things, or jump in things because of the rejection factor.

The Demigoddess said...

I'm a lot more fun in my blog. In person, I'm probably boring.

I can't imagine that. Your blog is too fun for you to be boring!

Lisa said...

This is something I struggle with, but kind of in the opposite: I think I am much nicer on my blog than I am in real life, meaning I'm much more forthcoming and open if you know me in person.

I like to think of my blog as a better, nicer, and kinder version of me. :)

That's interesting. Who do you enjoy being more? The blogger or the real lifer?

debilyn said...

I'm just as snarkastically delicious in real life as I am in my blog. I speak just as grammatically correct as I write, and I never misspell any words in my head.

BUT, I like people in Blogland better than I do in real life. In real life, people tend to get on my nerves and make me want to blog about them=)

I love ANYONE that says they are snarkastically delicious!!!

Aunt of 14 said...

DEFINITELY NOT!! I don't think so. I am so much more candid and so much more open online than anywhere IRL. If you and I were to... like... suddenly bump into each other in the middle of the ocean, say... since you are in Hawaii and I'm in Seattle, just to be rambling like you... I won't even be able to CHAT with you. I'll be petrified with shyness... I may manage to squeak out "hello!" and then there'll be this uncomfortable silence. The silence will stretch on and on until someone says "Oh I have to go to the bathroom" and flee. Either you or me. I hate when that happens but that probably is what would happen with me. Several times... like 20 years ago that is... I was chatting with a guy (when AOL first came out) and the guy would want to meet me and I'll say sure... only to stand them up. I did this more than once. I literally turn into solid rock... no wonder I'm in my late 30's and still single. Too freaking shy.

Oh Ao14....your answer made me giggle and remember a time that I was (okay am still a lot) petrified of meeting anyone online. It goes back up to the rejection question. But, I tell you what. This blog has given me a confidence in myself that others who don't know me, like me (erm, my blog) which represents my thoughts, the funny side of life that I like to lead and if they don't. Eh, whatever. So don't worry. I ramble enough to make anyone comfortable. I'll give us a shot for sure if we ever get 'stuck' on a plane together :)

***********************

So this week's question came inspired from questions and conversation over the woman that received a face transplant.

"Could you go through with a face transplant? As a family member of the donor how hard would this be for you see to a face you once knew belong to someone else?"

An employee of mine and I discussed this topic tonight about the emotional crap this woman must be going through.

First, having a massive douche of a husband who only got 7 years in prison, Second, surviving such a horrendous attack and lastly living with another persons face that isn't yours.

This is what happens when you go out for girls night and have one....or two...

I know. I know.

Where was I Monday?

Tired as as mo-fo is what. (Don't worry, no bitch and whine session here about work.)

I took the bloggy day off.

***********

Normally a work out night, BFF Girl night Out intervened (insert evil No Diet laughter).

Two glasses of wine for a woman who's been eating cardboard toast and enough greens to make the Jolly Green Giant uncomfortable is kind of a big deal.

Look, I'm a mommy that can't handle her liquor . So I sit here writing this while inebriated. A little.

It was decided from early day text's that due to stress of our drama filled lives an alcoholic beverage would not go under appreciated.

Dinner was going to be great.

We sat in seats that totally reminded us all of sitting on a padded toilet seat. Seriously. Ask the BFF's. I had to check with them to make sure it wasn't just my seat. (Note to self. Double check and make sure they weren't playing a joke on Rambler with padded toilet seat chair)

I decided to have a pasta dish with a Japanese influence. Spicy Ahi Tuna Pasta. (Fresh raw Ahi with a spicy creamy mayo sauce in Spaghetti noodles.) I knew I would be paying for this later. And if you know what I mean by 'later' (irritable bowel syndrome anyone? mmmm, does this mean my post today will be found by people trying to inquire about IBS? ), this was a sure fire way to flush the system.

I'm home now.

Content & happy from BFF bonding.

Editing, typing, deleting, should I even post this, editing more, look for photo, deleting some more....

It's exhausting.

Being me.

Drunk Irritable Bowel Syndrome like Blogger OUT.

Sidenote: If anyone's keeping track....8 pounds around the waistline. Gone. Teehee.

My Personal Space....Back the Eff up.

Places my personal space have been invaded.

Work: As I greet you, the guest, coming toward my doors to dine (and in this economy THANK YOU for choosing my place) and you feel the need to be so close I can smell the boogers that will form up your nostrils after your meal....

BACK THE EFF UP.

Grocery Store: When I am paying for my groceries and you feel the need to breathe on my neck waiting your turn as I wait for my card to be approved....

BACK THE EFF UP.

Starbucks: While we wait for our beverages in the "WAIT FOR YOUR BEVERAGE HERE" area and you feel the need to stand with your shoulders touching mine even though there is more then enough room 1 foot away from me in any direction....

BACK THE EFF UP.

Waiting for the public restroom: When a line is formed waiting for the stalls and we are standing in it and your purse keeps whacking my back (constantly)

BACK THE EFF UP.

Movie Theater: When you need to scooch past me while I'm sitting and your junk/who ha/private area/va-jay-jay is a little to close to my face.

BACK THE EFF a LITTLE UP.

ATM Machine: Seriously.

BACK THE EFF UP.

**************

Geesh, someone pissed in Grumpy Ramblers cheerios this morning.

And if you don't read this guy Mo Mad Dog Stoneskin....you must. He's brilliantly funny. My favorite post this week. Go. Read now.

Have a great personal space invader free weekend!!