A Thanksgiving Weekend Post

It's Saturday of Thanksgiving weekend.

If y'all are like me, you are sick to damn death of turkey by now. The pies and mashed potatoes are gone but you still have stuffing and too much gravy and holy-hell-are-you-serious-I've-got-so-much-more-turkey-to-go-that-I-could-feed-both-my-own-household-and-a-third-world-country-for-about-a-week.

However, I for one am too poor to send said shitload of turkey to any third world country, so in my fridge it will sit, being eaten slowly so that it has the maximum potential to mock me every time I open the fridge. "HaHaHa Aria! I'm STILL HERE! And I, Mr Gobbles, know that you can't in good conscience eat other food while there's enough of me to feed starving children all around the world, so plate me up again and do your damnedest to control your gag reflex... like when you're giving head." That's what the fucking turkey says to me.

Mind you, it's not entirely accurate. I broke down and made an egg & cheese sandwich last night because I couldn't take it anymore.

Being broke is also THE BEST TIME IN THE WORLD TO GO TO THE MALL ON BLACK FRIDAY. Seriously. I know you're scratching your head and wondering what the hell I'm talking about. Moneyless people, such as myself, should be at home cowering under the kitchen table trying to hide from the talking turkey in their fridges not at the mall!

But you're wrong. Pack yourself a turkey sandwich or six and a big ole thermos of spiked egg nog (or just a bottle of rum cause you can buy a coke at any vendor in the food court) and find yourself a comfy bench or resting place. Preferably in the mall near the entrance to Best Buy but near the center fountain works just as well...you'll probably be right by the Santa setup and oh Nellie, 'Kids Say the Darnedest Things' has nothing on perusing the line to see Santa.

Then sit. And wait. And try to take small bites of those sandwiches so you don't choke to death and become some other people-watcher's laugh of the day... just sayin'.

You will see an assortment of the most hilarious stereotypes on God's green earth. Wild-eyed frenzy will ensue all around you as bargain-hunters fly from one store to another determined to get the best deals, their wallets so worn out that they scream like someone in need of back surgery every time they're opened. These people laden themselves with so many bags and packages that they can scarcely see the walkway in front of them, never mind something else to buy. And if they stop for a rest they're dead cause it would take Schwarzenegger in his prime to hoist all that loot back into carrying position.

Sometimes the pros will bring a lackey, IE: a spouse, to run items to the car once they become unwieldy. This too is fun because after the first car-run the lackey will return in frantic search of his or her shopping maven only to discover them already carrying another full load to go to the car. These shopping-psycho-type-people should rent U-haul trucks for Black Friday. After the third return trip from the car as their Shopinista refills their arms full, you will hear something like, "How'd you find so much more stuff ALREADY?!? I was only gone for ten minutes!" The Shopinista's eyes will roll at their lackey as they refuse to dignify the comment with a response while they're 'in the zone!'

It's comical. Almost enough so that you forget that you're eating your billionth serving of turkey in under 24 hours. A tip for this Black Friday turkey diversion; make sure you take a cab, cause you'll never get parking with all the SUV's in the lot and you also don't want a DUI after downing all that rum. Just be sure to not be so shmammered that you can make your way back to Macy's so the cab can get you there. Cabbies feel safer outside of Macy's than Best Buy.

This Black Friday people watching will now work for you up untill Christmas, but won't be quite as eventful again until Christmas Eve after 2 pm.

Almost forgot that you were having turkey for dinner again, didn't you?

You're welcome.

Is It Too Late To Turn In My Homework Mr. Done?

I have just finished a fantastic book, called Close Encounters of the Third Grade Kind by Philip Done (pronounced like phone).

I was sent this book several weeks ago with the agreement that I would do a review. Normally, I'd have finished it in a day, because it was funny and smart and had heart, in other words, a great and easy read. Then my personal life went a little sideways and it took me over three weeks to read it, which was ALL ME and nothing to do with the book.

Being that it was written by a veteran teacher, I need to find out if I'm going to fail for not turning in my assignment in a timely manner. I should. I can't do this wonderful tome to 'teacherhood' (Mr. Done's word) justice.

First of all, the chapters are short. For any parent, this is a huge bonus, especially if, like me, you like to stop reading at the end of a chapter and have a toddler running around. It also made it easy to find my place again when my son repeatedly removed my bookmark.

There were passages so humorous that I insisted on reading them aloud to my husband. There were observations on the behavior of 8 year olds that brought me back to both my own experiences and that of watching my daughter's school existence at that age. There was a chapter on one student named Michael that I dare anyone to read without tearing up.

Philip Done loves teaching and children in a genuine and unabashed way. His honesty while describing his own embarrassing moments is refreshing and humanizing. You are with him during the telling of these tales as opposed to watching from afar. You can tell he is able to draw his students in as naturally as he does us, the readers.

It touched me in ways that few books are able; in my nostalgia zone. The smiles spread across my face often during reading.

Philip Done is the kind of teacher that kids want to get and that parents pray their children will get to spend a year with. Although he never really 'toots his own horn' so to speak, his gift for teaching is obvious with each passing page.

You will not be disappointed in spending your time in the pages of this book. I dare say, you'll be quite glad you did. Personally, I found it unforgettable. Things I know will creep up on me in a few years as my own son hits third grade running, and most likely acting very much like Mr. Done's student Trevor.

Whether you're a parent or a long ago student, don't miss this terrific book.

You can thank me later. ;-)

LMFAO Friday ~ I Could Have Lost An Eye Edition

Image via Wikipedia

So yesterday, the water was being all temperamental and it kept going out on me while I was trying to wash dishes. Even the well doesn't want me to wash dishes. So we had to keep messing with the points to get the water to come back on... and when I say we, I mean, I went to the edge of the back porch and shouted, "water's off again" to hubby who would go fix it.

Until the last time, when hubby was mowing the lawn so he sent Sam over to fix it.

The well doesn't like Sam.

No wait, the well doesn't like Hubby. Sam it LOVES.

I found out we were having water pressure issues when I went to use the bathroom that I had scrubbed and flushed the toilet in about 15 minutes earlier, only to come down the hall and found I had to swim into the bathroom where the water was shooting out of the top of the tank in order to shut off the water valve and use the rest of the clean towels along with the freshly swapped towels in the dryer to sop up Lake Toiletwater from Potty Tank Geyser.

So when hubby comes in from mowing I tell him about my interior rowboat needs, and that he now needs to fix the toilet. Hubby, being the mechanical type that he is, first briefly re-soaks the bathroom and then goes out and checks the water pressure with a gauge. Yeah.

145 pounds of pressure and a quick walk over to the landlord's later...

Basically, if I'd put my head in the sink and turned on the faucet I could have lost an eye. And making pasta for dinner became a test of patience when I had to use Brita-filter water to fill the cooking pot because all the pressure, aside from almost busting holes in the water lines, loosened all the silt and nasty shit on the inside of the pipes and I was not cooking pasta in third-world water.

Do y'all have any fucking idea how small a Brita pitcher is? Seriously. A camel could die waiting for a refill.

Anyway, the water pressure still isn't right. Apparently, the problem decided to wait until almost dark to happen, so it will get worked on today.

I hope.

In the mean time, since hubby removed the restriction plate in the shower head eons ago, I have no need of a loofah. In fact, if I had gone paint-balling I could have sand blasted myself clean in the shower...

or degreased an engine.

Happy weekend y'all LMFAO Friday officially begins now.

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You don't think they'll notice, do you Jack?




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I'm thinking that editor is like 3 days away from his two week vacation.




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And y'all thought the zombie thing was a joke.




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OK, the human goes to bed around 10. That's when we get our revenge...




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What.
The.
Hell.




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...as opposed to taking off and landing...?!?




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This is the picture that got the American auto makers the bailout.




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Our tax dollars at work.




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Vegas is still working out the kinks in it's 'family' personna.




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And another life-long therapy goer is born.




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Ooooohhhhhh! Oooohhhhhh! Mr. Kotter! I can spot the terrorist!




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Those southerners; so polite.




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That's when you know; you are karma's bitch.




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I told you facebook quizzes were written for zombies.




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...or you will be on the next episode of Law & Order SVU.

All The Way To The Craptastic End

I betcha all are wondering where the heck I went off to.

Well.

You see.

Aside from doing the two book reviews that I've committed myself to doing, I'm going to be very sporadic from here on out... As in maybe only LMFAO Fridays for a while.

As in, I'm not totally ready to throw in the towel, but I am tired of fighting to be here and fighting after I've been here.

Like when I bitched repeatedly about hubby's wannabe girlfriend the roommate I call Sam, and how much I had to hear about it when he got back from "Talk Trash About Aria Day" at our blog reading friends' this weekend. Or how he complains that I'm ALWAYS on the computer even though those of us living in the grown up world know there is no such thing as always or never.

Also, he has let me know, by way of argument, that after living with me for over three years, he doesn't get me one little bit, but only throws his own issues all over whatever I do and say.

Beyond hubby, I have been going through some major crap because I'm working through my own issues in an effort to get past them. In an effort to not bury them so they can grow out of control like a disease and cause problems throughout my life.

This has been misconstrued inside and outside of my home and I'm really fucking tired of defending myself to all the people that think they know, but can't even ask a question, thereby coming to the wrong conclusion and then holding me to their misconceptions.

Which, by the way, is a total bitch.

In other words I'm working on some personal shit... and as all parents know; shit is nasty, it stinks, nobody wants to be around it or help you with it, and whomever has the misfortune of taking care of the shit cares nothing about anything other than getting the shit off of them.

In short, coming up with funny ha-ha posts and trying to censor myself out of more trouble is so far down on my list of priorities since I'm trying to shuck off my shit.

So there you go. My craptastic~ness may or may not continue here or somewhere else.

Only time will tell.

I do have two book reviews to do (which I already mentioned, but am trying to reiterate to soothe my frowning readers) as soon as I finish the books. I'm on the first and it's wonderful, so I hope to have that one to you next week at the latest.

If Friday rolls around and I'm not sticking my head in the oven, I'll do my best to maintain the LMFAO Fridays. It's the best I can do right now, people.

In my absence, I hope that karma is kind and God blesses you all. I'll see you around as much as possible.

And let me just close with a huge thank you for all the support you have shown me since this blog's inception. I am so grateful for your generosity in commenting and encouraging my spoutings. Thank you.

LMFAO Friday ~ Rememberance Edition

It was a year ago this weekend that one of my favorite people on the entire planet died. My grandmother. Missing her still makes me cry more than I'd like to admit to. She was, quietly, and without fanfare, my rock. The only one with the same address, phone number and calm disposition for all the years I was lucky enough to have her in my life.

Gran, while you were too much of a lady to all-out belly laugh, nor do I ever recall you telling a joke, you gave enough smiles to enough people to have this LMFAO Friday be just for you... OK, and for you too, since you're here :-)

But because my grandmother was never the kind of person to point out someone's faults, but to emphasize their good qualities, this week, in her honor, it's all about the WINS.

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ps. It won't make the person you take home any more attractive in the morning either.




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Oh, it's there Mrs. Jones. That'll be $1.29 please.




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Did I call it, or did I call it?




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Hands down, this qualifies as my favorite Christmas lights display EVER!




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Hey! How'd a smart guy wind up in marketing?




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Oh Austin, behave!




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And cheaper too!




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And that is what we in the legal profession like to call, "a plain and simple Cover Your Ass."




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Can't you just hear the 'who's on first' routine?



And just one FAIL because... well... you'll see...




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That's a 'how to' every girl needs!

I'm So Not In The Mood For This

Image by stargazer95050 via Flickr

Well y'all. What can I say? I have a migraine, my phone line is down and I'm out of energy from chasing the turbo all weekend... OK,the chasing the turbo tot was an exaggeration. He's been better than usual, I'm just outta energy because I am.

I did however decide that I was taking Sunday off. I blame this decision on the education system of the United States. Had I never had a 5-day school week as a kid, I wouldn't have realized that Saturday and Sunday were 'days off'. Then I wouldn't have gotten older and made educated decisions to give up organized religion and take on parenting so that Saturday became the run around like a maniac with the family and the chores and such and then Sunday wouldn't have become relax from whenever till dinner because I don't get up for church. But then I'd also still be quasi-quoting the Bible about Sunday being a day of rest cause, to be honest, I like that one and I try to live by it, American education aside.

However since I'm a homebody and we were broke over the weekend, I only cleaned house on Saturday so I took my 'day off' by building myself custom cars on the websites and looking at laughably expensive real estate listings in CA and NJ and you know, it takes quite a strong imagination to flesh out the full single winning lotto ticket wealthy lifestyle when you're living in 540 square-falling-apart-feet and eating top ramen for lunch in po'dunk Texas.

But I'm strong. I did it.

I went from Toyotas to Lexuses in a few hours. I threw over Vacaville for Tiburon and Springfield for Alpine. So I'm ready now, to hit the lotto and willing to accept the accoutrements of wealth in my 7,000 sq ft mansion. But I've decided I want to live on those earnings for the rest of my life, so I settled for two Lexuses instead of the Ferrari and Lamborghini. Cause, you know, I'm practical like that. But I got so immersed in the fantasy that I neglected the house and the rest of existence for two whole days.

So now it's Tuesday and the house is a complete and total disaster. And having to deal with this trash heap of a house is not fitting in to my mental image Gucci lifestyle. it's so much easier to send the maid to do the dishes and she'd be fired for letting my kitchen get to this state what kind of a pig did I hire anyway?

*sigh* I can't even put it off till I win the lotto tonight and hire a good maid because it'll take weeks for the check to clear and I don't have enough dishes am just not that nasty. So I have to go in and play maid myself and it's ssssoooo depressing especially with already feeling like crap thanks to Mr Migraine. And even more so because that pic doesn't even show the rest of the disaster area that is my house as I type this. Because honestly, the only thing that might make my migraine better, aside from good maid service and cheesecake is this...