I'm Feeling Good

I can cook.


Now I realize that I may be getting way ahead of myself here, especially in light of my online confession here...but I think the ol' brain has finally assimilated some information on how not to burn food.

I've been on a really good..uh...good food cooking streak for a while now, and that just doesn't happen. I usually pump out something palatable ...oh....I'd say...about one dish (dish people, not meal)every 2 weeks or so.....but I am really topping myself here lately (not that I'm ready to go onto Hell's Kitchen or anything).

Last night I made the yummiest chicken ever. It wasn't dried up like old cardboard like it usually is....it was tender and juicy and it wasn't raw in the middle or burnt on the outside....the juices fairly burst from the chicken when we cut it. The mashed potatoes were perfection, the green beans were GREEN and had not withered in the pot from lack of stirring. The cucumbers were sliced in uniform pieces with no gouges on the sides and the sweet tea was just right.....and to think, I didn't even have to lock the children up in their rooms or duct tape them to the floor so I could accomplish this.

I also made a home made blackberry pie last night...my first pie ever....and it tastes wonderful....and I don't even like blackberries! I will however admit to calling my mother in law at least 5 different times to assist me. I can say whatever else about the woman...but she can cook like no body's business.

The night before last, I made the most tender and mouth watering cubed steak that God could think to grace the earth with. The rice wasn't crunchy, the broccoli was just right and I served that with fresh sliced tomatoes and onions. I damn near had an orgasm half way thru dinner.(and no, that didn't upset the hubby, he was happy....said it just meant he wouldn't have to work as hard later)

The ultimate test was this evening though.

I went to the store and got a lemon cake and frosting, and decided that's what I would have for my birthday. I went home, started mixing and suddenly realized that I didn't have any oil for the recipe...in a daring and clever move...I decided to substitute 2 egg whites for 1/3 cup of oil....and that was when it struck me like a bolt of lightening....it was time to confront my one true nemesis...the culinary creation of evil!!!!!!!...the bundt cake.

Laugh if you must. I have failed so miserably at these things over the years its just pathetic (more pathetic than my normal cooking if you can imagine that). My one true claim to fame has been cupcakes....it is after all.....hard to screw them up.....but I was feeling confident after the resounding success of the blueberry pie...and dug back....WWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYY back to the back of the cabinets and pulled out my two bundt cake pans.

I was in a quandary. Which one should I pick? I chose the green one over the orange. I have failed at my last 3 bundt cake attempts in the orange pan......sprayed with Pam....and poured my smooth delicious looking batter. I had changed the position of the racks in the oven....something that I have just taken to doing frequently (I think this has a lot to do with my recent successes), slid the pan in, and set the timer.

There was nothing to do but wait, and wait and wait. I resisted temptation as much as possible to open the door and peak in. The last bundt cake fell AND burnt because of my compulsion I think.....and 38 minutes later, I pulled out the most beautiful bundt cake ever. It wasn't just lovely in comparison to my usual cooking....it was lovely in general. It looked like something normal people would eat....and I was proud.

After a dinner of left over cubed steak, chicken, green beans and rice, I cut a small slice of cake.....cake I had left unfrosted.....the first unfrosted cake I have ever made. I admired the smell, color and the moistness....noticed it was a little dense for my liking BUT! it hadn't fallen....I picked up my fork, anticipating the zing of the lemon....and the phone rang. DDDDAAAAMMMMNNNNN!

It was my mother in law...calling to check and see how the blueberry pie came out....I gave the phone to Charles and sat back down. I quickly cut a piece and scooped it up with my fork.

It was wonderful.

I gave everyone at the table a bite of my cake...finished every last crumb on my plate...looked at Charles and said

"You only had to wait 10 years for me to learn how to cook."

he chuckled

"I think I'm just going to sit here and be smug for a while. I feel awful proud of myself"

"You did good baby"

"Yeah, now if I could only learn to keep a good house"

"Don't get ahead of yourself"

"Ass"

*sticks out tongue at me*

There's Love There

I'm turning 33 in 8 days. It's not traumatic or anything, it's just another day, but Lauren is excited and has already given me a book of "poetry" she has written.

No really, she really did write me poetry....modern poetry if you will - with a spin.

My favorite one goes like this:

Roses are red
Violets are blue
My feet stink and
So do you

Yes it seems she has "borrowed" a bit from the traditional "roses are red, violets are blue" but she really makes it her own with the stinky feet thing.

There's another one in there that runs a close second:

The reason I'm lazy and a pinch to crazy
Is because you hug me and kiss me to long
I know that's because you love me
But I wish you'd quit.

Yes, she is a treasure, isn't she. This is all her own. She didn't feel intimidated by peer pressure into making it rhyme...she just shouted her love on constructioin paper with crayon.

.......

She even went so far as to alter the Happy Birthday song for me...and I think it's the most terrifical (that's a very Tigger-ish word isn't it) song ever. It is written so I can sing it to myself....

Happy Birthday to Me
Happy Birthday to Me
I look like I'm 20
but I'm really 33.

No, I didn't commission that last one. She just knew she had better put something nice in if she wants to share my cake and ice cream ;D

Just Because I Have To

Okay, I'm coming clean.

I'm an insurance salesman - a couple of you know this....

No, I'm not kidding.

Do you want to know one of the problems with being an insurance agent? NO? Tough shit, I'm telling you anyway. Everyone automatically thinks you're lying...and do you know why that is? Because many insurance salesmen do...at least in my experience. I can name 5 insurance agents that I know are honest....I won't tell you how many I know that aren't because it would depress you and send you running for an insurance quote and there would be so many calls that the phone lines would blow up (sounds like I'm flattering myself with the amount of readers...but you know what I meant, don't be difficult)

I will tell you this though. I work for an honest agent. I targeted him when I sent out my resume a couple of years ago because I knew via the grapevine that he was honest, I got lucky, and he hired me.

Now, I know that a lot of you hate the insurance man because you think he's always jerking your chain. You think he's always trying to take you money over some silly shit...always trying to sell you something. ------------that's just a whole other venting session -------------------


When I wrote your policy - you walked out of my office with my personal cell phone number in your hand. I made it clear you were not to call me with questions on your bill. It was an emergency number only. A number reserved for those "OH FUCK ME WITH BILL CLINTONS STINKY TOOL" moments. You wrecked your car? CALL ME. Your house caught fire? CALL ME. You just got an enema? WIPE YOUR ASS and don't eat any whole grains for a while.

I take care of my clients, and I take care of Bossman's clients. That's what I do....but do you know what really pisses me the off?

1 - LONG TERM CLIENTS. Yes, that's right. They fucking piss me off. WHY? Because they always think that because they've been with the company forever and a day they should be able to pay whatever price they want to pay. Yeah. Fuck off.

Insurance is a business like any other business and the prices go up. It's reality, accept it and drive the fuck on. You know the good old days when your insurance went down? Yeah, that doesn't happen much these days, so you can pretty much kiss that shit good-bye, and lick your lips, because that's probably the last taste of that you'll be getting. Inflation goes up - not down....and I don't see the average american's utility bills going down every month...so why in the fuck should your insurance go down hhhmmmmmmmmm?

"Why Mr and Mrs Jones! I see that you aren't using very much electricity these days, why don't we cut your unit cost from 1.00 to .75 for being such a long term client but not actually using our services."

I want to know how many of you actually have had that call happen.

2 - Clients that call me screaming when their rates go up because of the DUI, Reckless Driving, Suspended Lic. and 3 at fault accidence's they've had, have made their rates go up. Think you dumb shit. WHHATTT TTHHHEEE HHEEELLLLL DDDDDOOOO YYYYYOOOOOUUUUUU TTTTHHHHHIIIIIINNNNNNNNNKKKKKK IS GGGGGGGGGOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNAAAAAAAAAAA HHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPEEEEEEEEENNNNNNNNNNN? I'm not going to call you and tell you that it's gonna be okay and verbally hold your hand and console you because you're fucking stupid AND I'm not gonna take your fucking abuse for your rates going up either. Hit the fucking road ass-munch. I don't get paid to get yelled at, be talked shitty to, to be intimidated (like that happens)or receive snide remarks from you - you walking batch of genital herpes.

3 - Clients who call me and threaten to "shop around" if I don't lower their rates. Fuck you. Go shopping. You want to go somewhere else? Then fucking go. You're threatening me and talking ugly to me, and it isn't conducive to me going out of my way to do shit for you...........not that I can do shit about your rates any damn way. That shit comes down from Regional. I'm all willing to go to bat for you if I don't see any reason for them to go up (mistakes do happen)...(if I do see reason for them to go up...please see above) but if that's the premium, then that's the premium. I can't pull something out of my ass to make you happy, and odds are, anything that I did pull out of my ass...wouldn't make you happy...so you're just SOL all the way around aren't you?




I actually have some really great clients. Some know me well, and some don't....but regardless of which...I'll do my best for you as long as you treat me with common courtesy and respect, but don't expect me to work a friggin miracle - especially when you're a screwed up driver with a bad attitude and bad credit.

I wrote this while very upset. I was a good girl and read over it a bit and deleted the word "Fuck" 7 times. You're stuck with the rest of the fucks because I thought they were good where they were...no pun intended.

HEAR YE! HEAR YE! or is that HARRYYY! HARRYYYY!

I guess by now I should really give an explanation of my going away and coming back - because a few of you have asked...so here it is:

I left and then I came back.

Hope this helps.


BWWWWAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

I crack me up sometimes.

okay okay. I got tired of it. My husband got tired of me doing it. It was sucking up to much time out of my day...yada, yada, yada.

There was once upon a time, that I NEEDED the vent to keep from going stir crazy. I have now come to the conclusion that I'm already crazy and there really is no help for me, so now I'm going to fuck with your head......exactly how, I have no clue....but I'm sure something will come to me eventually, and then you're in for it. (I hope you sleep well with that thought in mind tonight)

I realise that my life is bereft without dishing out snark...and since I have no life, I choose to SNARK on you (excuse me, God Bless me, hope I didn't slime you).

There are some new rules for me below...please make a note of them.

I do not promise regular postings.
I do not promise to spell check.
I do not promise to check for punctuation and grammatical errors. (as if I ever have before)
I do not promise funny postings.
I do not promise to respond to your comments. (not being a bitch, but I'm cutting the time down here)
I do not promise to comment on your blog.
I do not promise to think.
I do not promise to struggle to put a sentence together coherently, or is that coherently together?...awww, who gives a shit.
I don't even promise to be lucid while posting...or even DRESSED! (that fucked with your head now didn't it - yeah, sleep well with that - you poor bastard)
And I most assuredly do NOT promise to keep my language clean - and I don't break any promises that I haven't made dammit...and let that be a lesson to me.

If you have any questions, you may ask, but who knows if I'll actually answer you? You could look at it like playing the lottery. If I decide to come down off my chemically induced high and answer, you win...but you don't get shit but a warm fuzzy feeling in your belly (and in your toes if you're a freak).

Hugs and kisses and shit to everybody.

Lessons Learned

I got a letter last week.

A real bonafide letter from an actual person. No shit. It actually happened. My mailbox wilted temporarily with the shock. (visualize that)

It was from a very old friend of mine....whom I'll call Worker Bee. Someone I had met in Jr High (middle school to most of you out there) and continued to keep in contact with even after I had moved away to start high school in another town. We stayed in touch for years, but eventually lost touch after the birth my daughter 9 years ago, while she was pregnant.

I was shocked to hear from her. I was so happy! Immediately, thoughts of our old chummy school days passes through my mind. Thoughts of the bad joke wars we used to have made my cheeks plump with grinning. I felt the old fellowship all over again - all before I read more than 3 words in her letter. I wanted to know everything immediately, and I mean EVERYTHING - RIGHT NOW.

She told me that my cousin had died.

My cousin and I had the same name (with the exception of our last names) and I had looked her up a couple of years ago. Nicole, Worker Bee and I were all friends in school along with the usual gaggle of people with intermingled with, but to me, those two were my world.

Nicole even lived down the street from me and we had spent many hot, hazy, summer days playing outside and doing a lot of things we shouldn't have. We talked. We danced We roller skated. We did make up. We dressed up. We strutted. We talked about boys. We went swimming in the river. We would walk for miles around our neighborhood just so we wouldn't have to be at home. She was ever confident and self assured. She is the one that taught me not to give a damn what anyone else thought of me. She was naturally beautiful. She was the girl I always wanted to be....and she was dead, and no one had called me.

Worker Bee had written to me on the day of her funeral and that's how I found out....but I didn't get her letter until a month after she had written it(I would like to thank the postman for his continued ineptitude - and my husband for forgetting to give my my mail when I came back from NM).

I was very upset...not because she had told me in her letter, but because no one had called me....and because I had put off calling her for months and months...simply because I find it hard to pick up the phone sometimes. It's true that no one had called me, but I hadn't called them either, and that didn't make me feel any better. I felt/feel exceedingly guilty - because I knew she had been sick, and I didn't call.

I went to Childhood Town and laid flowers on Nicole's grave this past weekend. I had the florist make up the flowers especially for her - pink if you please, sir - and with a little card to with them. I was struck with a delima. How was I supposed to say everything I wanted to say on that little card? Exactly what could I say on that sad scrap of paper? I struggled. The florist looked at me expectantly, waiting.

I drove down the old historic streets marked with beautiful Inns and B&B's and lovely old fashioned restaurants and eventually found the town cemetery and after getting directions to her plot from Worker Bee, I found her. She was right by a majestic old tree, in the shade, with flowers all over her grave. He birthday had been the day before and it was obvious that even in death, she was still deeply loved, especially by the 3 children she left behind...16,12,and 4.

I don't know what to say or do in times like this. I was blessedly alone. I stared at her marker and grinned. I had never realized that she had dropped her maiden name instead of her middle name when she gotten married. I had done the same thing....just one more thing to tie us together....and I gave her her flowers, and I whispered to her, and I cried and I wanted to scream and I cried and then....then....because I hate crying...and I especially hate crying in public, I pulled myself together....and I went to visit another old friend ....Worker Bee.

...and Worker Bee and I laughed and ate and I met her husband and her children and we laughed and talked and looked at old pictures and I felt the old kinship still there. The old confidences whispered still echoed and we exchanged new secrets and we told more bad jokes and I had to tear myself away to go home.

I left Childhood Town behind knowing that though one old friendship was gone, there was another there for me.

I left Childhood Town with only a few flowers and a miniature card to cover the earth that covers one of the only true friends I've ever had.

To the Lady who taught me to dance as a child, may you dance among the clouds.

Meme

Mama en Fuego wanted to know:



#1 If you tore off a piece of foil for a dish then decided to use saran wrap instead, would you throw away the foil or keep it to use later? To be honest, it would depend. I mean, how pissed off am I because I have to cook? If I'm not very pissed, I'll save it.

#2. If you could be a super hero, what would your name be and what kind of powers would you have? I would be called "The Midas Sphincter" Giving a whole new meaning to the phrase "shitting a (gold) brick"

#3. Do you believe in the 5 second rule? Depends on what it is...and I usually go by the 3 second rule, and you just have to use your discretion. Like water - I don't care what kind of rule you've got....it's not cool to drink water off the floor.

#4. Do you brush your teeth in the morning and at night? Do you floss? Yes, Yes and yes. I'm all about oral hygiene, Kiddies. I even have little floss gadgets in a baggie at work to get rid of those after lunch hangers on. I don't floss in front of anyone, and I don't brush my teeth at work, but it's not cool to have some green shit in your teeth - especially after you just bleached them to blinding whiteness.

#5. If money were no object, where would you live? Shit, I don't know.

#6. If you could go back in time for 5 minutes where would you go? Who would you visit? Hell I don't know. Only for 5 minutes? Doesn't give me anytime to introduce myself to anyone..... I'm going for.......Where - Iraq, When - Sept 1, 2001, WHO - no who - phone call to the White House.

#7. Do you believe in heaven? How do you picture heaven? Yes. I can't tell you everything about heaven, but I can tell you, it has a big beautiful library in it.

#8. Do you believe in hell? How do you picture hell? Yes. I can't tell you everything about hell, but I can tell you, it's where my in-laws live.

#9. If you found a hair in your food, and you knew it was yours, would you keep eating? I don't know. How long is the hair exactly? I mean it's one thing to find a short bang hair sitting lightly on top of your cool whip....it's quite another to find a foot long strand mixed in with the melted cheese.

#10. Your walking down the aisle in the supermarket and just as you pass a hot guy/chick you let out the worlds largest fart, what do you do? RUN AND LAUGH LIKE HELL WHILE BLAMING THE CHILDREN

#11. Have you ever had sex on a plane? Hell no.....why? You asking or something? Just so you know.....that's not my thing.

#12. Do you mix the food on your plate or do you segregate? I'm a total segregationist when it comes to my food. I don't mind if the juices mix or if they touch or any silly shit like that....but I don't want my peas gettin all chummy with my blob of 57 sauce.


#13. If you could go back and date someone again for a week, (before things got bad, ended, too complicated, what ever) who would you date again? My husband. No really, I'm not shitting. He puts them all to shame. That's why the sex is still so damn good.

#14. You're on an airplane and all the sudden there's a thunder down under and you have to go, NOW but you can see that there is at least a 3 person wait for a bathroom. What do you do? Squish the ol' cheeks together, do the poker up the ass walk, get in line and pray. If I feel I can't make it...I'll tell them I have Krohns Disease and go into detail. Yes I would.


#15. You and your significant other are moving in together. While putting some of their stuff away some naked pictures of their ex fall out. Do you confront them with the pictures? Do you take them and throw them away? What would you do? Dude, I'd totally throw that shit away. No need to tell him, he'll figure it out eventually and I wouldn't have to hear that lame ass excuse "oh! I totally forgot I had those" PPPPAAAAA LEEEEEEAAASE!!!!

#16. You win the lottery, millions, how do you spend the first 10k? Give it to family

#17. If you had a choice between being beautiful or being successful, which would you be? Successful. Success builds confidence, and that makes you sexy and beautiful.. no need to look like a model...I have my own look thank you.

#18. Can you lie with a straight face? Not when it's squished up against the mattress..............................WHAT??? Just keeping you on your toes. Um, yes I can, but I can't look you in the eye.

#19. What's the last prank you pulled on someone? THERE ARE SO MANY!!!!!

#20. You see a man and a little girl walking down the street. She's pulling away and yelling for him to "leave her alone." What do you do? Depends. I would definitely keep watching. Do I know them? Is he acting funny? Does she seem scared? Is my gun loaded?

4th of July

Happy 4th of July Everybody!!!!


Don't burn any of your shit up or blow off your fingers.

Clues For You

You guys know I love you don't you? Well, because I love you and shit, I'm making a list of things people need to know about foot maintenance...not necessarily for you specifically, but definitely for the public at large...because some folks out there scare me. Feel free to post this list at work and hand it out to "friends" and family.

You know you need to cut your toenails/take care of your feet when:


You can scratch your leg without moving your fingers.

Your toenails are scratching a hole in your shoe.

Your toenails require more polish than your fingernails.

Your toenail is longer than your toe.

Your toenails are just as long, or longer than anyone of your fingers.

Your sandals don't fit because your toenails hang over the ends.

You are mistaken for a Hobbit.

You don't need to wear cleats.

You look like you work on car engines with your feet - sporting that black line of nastiness under the nail and several built up callouses with sharp edges.

You have to clean beneath your toenails with a butter knife, and it doesn't really help.

You have to register your feet with the county and/or state as a deadly weapon.

Terrorist put a hit out on you because even they can't stand the site of your feet and view them as an aberration.

People have actually told you they would rather kiss you scaly, scab encrusted ass, than to look at your feet.

Bears like you, and view you as a potential mate.

Mr Rogers kicked you out of his neighborhood for scaring the children and clawing at the mailman.

You file your toenails to look like pointed cannibals teeth.

Razor blades immediately rust at close proximity to your bunions and callouses to avoid contact.

You've been banned from even the crappiest manicure places due to frequent breakage of their equipment.

You have several pending lawsuits for property damage and/or post traumatic stress disorder.

Your spouse makes you sleep with your shoes on.

Badgers hump your leg.

Your feet inspired the novella "Dinosaurs Live Again"

Sorry if you're offended by this list. You can send your complaints to www.Imawhineylittlebitchwithbadpersonalhygiene@yahoo.com