I Pulled Weeds. Weeds Pulled My Back.


Some dandelions found in my backyard.Image via Wikipedia

The Weeds Won!


I started this blog in May 2009 after I lost my job. 

This weekend history repeated itself, repeated itself, with the back story that is.

Muddy Monday
figuratively speaking of course, though I’m not averse to getting dirty. The day before I tackled weeds. Today, I tackle the job market and the start of a new week. The jump from Sunday to Monday is a long one.

After track and field, it’s on to floored exercises, or mental acrobatics, and the incessant “Can I?” “Will I?” blind routine that lasts far longer than the allotted time.

Judges can be so cruel, especially Judges Ego and Id. They are far more critical than the Eastern bloc fringe. I try to ignore them and focus on the task – which is to maximize my strengths, minimize my weaknesses and gain control of my destiny, as long as Judges Ego and Id don’t sentence me.

Hiking across the bridge to back-to-back, back posts and the gardening fiasco.

After decapitating countless weeds, the survivors regrouped and put a curse on me.

Oh, Sciatica. The nerve of you.
Why do you own me and keep me locked in chains, as the links dig deep into my skin?

Oh, Sciatica, I’m so over you, yet you still choose to rule my life. No matter how hard I try to forget you, everything I do reminds me of you. When I sit. When I stand. When I limp across a room.

Oh, Sciatica, you’re such a pain in the “a.” It’s so disingenuous to say that you’ve got my back.

Oh, Sciatica, I curse your name and four more weeks of your endless stay. Only a shiny white pill can stifle the pain, just a temporary fix to cool the flame.

Enhanced by Zemanta

Mother’s Day Celebrity Head Trip Getaways

Backpacker IslandImage by airpanther via Flickr
Mothers Day Celebrity Head Trip Getaways.

So many great packages from which to choose.

Ben Affleck Palau Getaway.
Enjoy endless hours of fun-filled fantasy in a bungalow on a secluded beach. Surrounded by crystalline waters and white powder sand, this all inclusive vacation comes with open bar, private cook, daily massages from Ben Affleck, and a 24/7 pastry chef.

Brad Pitt Costa Rica “Muy Bien.”
An erotic exotic remote holiday at a mud pack spa where mud is never dirty but you always are. Situated in a tropical rainforest beneath the Arenal Volcano, this private vacation spot, hidden among the trees, features a lava-heated pool, while Brad Pitt heats the rest of you.

Jon Hamm Starry Night Holiday. 
An incredible package, insanely inexpensive with crazy views of the picturesque valley in the lower Pyrenées. Hunker down with this handsome hunk in a charming B&B on the banks of the Gers-river. When you lose yourself in this Hamm holiday delight, you may find that you also lose your mind.

George Clooney Monte Carlo Rendezvous.
Located on the French Riviera, this exquisite Monte Carlo hideaway overlooks heart-pounding precipitous cliffs and breathtaking aquamarine Mediterranean Sea. And the management at this superb Casino also guarantees that George Clooney will always lose his shirt.

Adrian Grenier’s Beverly Hills Entourage for Two.
You’ll be wined and dined in LA’s most elegant restaurants, then take a dip in Adrian’s heated master bedroom pool, before ending your evening in the adjoining hot tub suite for recreational love wrestling and unlimited champagne.

Matthew McConaughey Caribbean Experience.
Crew for two in this ultimate romantic excursion on a private sailing yacht, a majestic vessel indeed. Moor and explore private coves and beaches at your leisure, as Matthew McConaughey rocks your boat.

Colin Firth Countryside Retreat.
Get spoiled in one of Britain’s un-spoiled misty golden hills. Savor the seductive seaside scents and raw excitement of England’s turbulent seas. Like the coastline, Colin is rugged, exhilarating and always salty. 

Josh Holloway Tropical Beach Fantasy.
In this off the charts island fantasy, you’ll be caught in the sway of the ocean and cool Pacific breeze, while lost in the heat of Josh’s shirtless embrace. Relish the warm splash of ocean on your sleek oiled bodies, as sky, sea, skin and sand become one. On this tropical fantasy beach, the only way you’ll be discovered is if you open your eyes.

Jude Law Holiday Retreat.
Jude Law can teach you a thing or two about love when on holiday in this quaint cottage in Surrey England, always a hot spot inside even if outside temperatures dip well below zero. When beneath the sheets with Jude Law, skin to skin, it’s as if you’re in the steamy hot tropics all over again. With this bad boy of Britain, this is one head trip you won’t soon forget.

Enhanced by Zemanta

Reality Check: Testing, Four, Five, Six.

Black and white photograph of a Neumann U87 mi...Image via Wikipedia

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Buzz. Whir. Pluff.


I can’t hear you! 

Cease reality check. Commence email check.

There are now 1520 emails in my inbox.

Last time I checked there were 1301.

The Google says, “You are currently using 648 MB (8 %) of your 7576 MB.” 

I’m making progress. Not much longer till my inbox explodes, an event that could be as catastrophic as Chernobyl.

I’m thinking of inviting CNN to my 7576 MB email viewing.
Dialing phone. 

Hello. Are you CNN?

I’m sorry. You’ve dialed too few numbers.


Damn! Smarmy phone. 


Hello, CNN?

Yes, hello. Who is this?

This is me.

Can you be more specific?

Me. You know. The dumbass with all the emails.

Yeah. What’s that all about? Why don’t you just delete them?

And miss an opportunity of a lifetime – to find out what happens when I reach that magic number – 7576 MB. I want to see what the Google says. Besides, there might be a cataclysmic explosion. That’s where you come in.

We cover different types of explosions: fireworks factories, nuclear reactors, oil refineries, etc. An inbox explosion doesn’t meet our carnage criteria. Why not just tune into CNN for 24/7 nonstop news. We’ll make you wish you never owned a television.

If I want to get depressed, I can go to WebMD.com and look up my disease du jour. It’s a great conversation piece at Hypochondriac Conventions.

We’ll then, I can’t help you. I’ve got to cover a drive-by-shooting. Now, that’s great television. Lots of shrill deafening sirens and blood-drenched sidewalks. Who could ask for anything more?

I’d rather sit in the dark and wait for my inbox to explode.

Let us know if you lose a body part or a gallon of blood, and we’ll send Anderson your way. Do you live on a tropical island or in a war-torn country?

No, just Connecticut.

Then, we’ll send the bald guy instead. Got to go! A bullet just took out a tire on an 18-wheeler. You don’t want to miss all the blood and guts splattered on your hi-def screen. 

Screeching tires. Boom!

CNN is a bigger jerk than the phone.



Don’t mess with ma belle!


Dial tone.

Enhanced by Zemanta

From Rants to Riches. I Got Blog Bling!

Actually, I, ahem, received two awards, one from my awesome blog buddy Mrs. Blogalot, and the other from a new awesome blog buddy Fire Crystals. Geez, doesn’t anyone have names like Pam or Lisa anymore?

Without further ado, here’s the Must Read award from a Must Read lady who is absolutely enchanting, hilarious, and an all around great gal. Making a cameo appearance with a badge from the Blogalot Times, heeeeeere’s MrsBlogalot. Bet you can’t read her blog just once.

Mrs. B’s “A Must Read Award”

Now to the Merry Musings of Fire Crystals. Though, friend, I hardly know ye well, I can tell you’re are the salt of the earth, engaging, and write with a flair. Please stop by to see what’s on Fire’s mind but don’t get too close. This blog is hot!

Fire Crystals “The Versatile Blogger Award”

The Versatile Blogger Award comes with a rider attached – List 7 Random Facts About Myself. I’m also supposed to give the award to 15 bloggers, but I’ll leave that up to you, dear readers. If you’d like to take the plunge, please grab the badge and have some fun. Please say that Lauren sent you.

7 Random Facts About Myself

1.    I live at the top of a mountain with an ecosystem that is different from every place that falls below the bottom of our access road. During the winter, the carting company didn’t pick up our garbage for an entire month. The trucks couldn’t get up the steep hill. I couldn’t walk down the steep hill whilst being leash dragged by my dog or I wouldth landed on my ass.

2.    I’m shy and awkward in a crowd. I used to be glib and able to work a room but when God handed me the 50-year milestone, it weighed down my brain, as well as my ass, breasts, and stomach.

3.    I believe in ghosts. I see dead people!but only on TV. I believe that one of our previous homes was haunted. Unrelated to that, a year ago in the early hours of the morning while awakening, I heard my grandmother call my name.

“She’s dead, Jim.”

“But Captain, I’m giving her everything she’s got!”

“She’s still dead, Jim!”

4.   I have difficulty with change, not the copper kind. To help me explain, here’s what Dictionary.com says about change: to transform or convert (usually followed by into): The witch changed the prince into a toad. – Not my doing!

My brain gets stuck whenever I try something new. I have to yank hesitant thoughts out of brain sludge then give them a good shove.

5.   I have two mutts, a male and female, plus a cat. The male, Jake, has dry eyes, the, uh, er, bitch, Jenny, has two new knees or ligaments; the cat’s stomach sweeps the floor while she shuffles. Jenny’s a bitch because she broke the fence yesterday, and I had to chase her around the neighborhood. She thought it was a game!

6.   My brain never stops grinding out weird thoughts. I get ideas 24/7. Sometimes I feel like a medium, except that my ideas are alive and don’t leave cold spots on the rug. My ideas are the bright lights you see at the end of a tunnel, not oncoming headlights.

7.   I’m a bit of a drama queen. I become unhinged if something angers or upsets me. I guess you’d say I am passionate but I’m also a child. Speaking of children. I have a 21-year-old son. Pretty good for a kid, huh? Or not. I absolutely am not a proponent of teen pregnancy. Today, I will not touch the subject with a ten-foot pole or Armenian.

Do you see dead people?
Enhanced by Zemanta

Humor Helps but at Times There’s Nothing like a Good Rant

The Statue of Liberty front shot, on Liberty I...Image via Wikipedia

Several years ago, the universe shifted and knocked most of us off our feet, while others still reap in the rewards.

The ground is still not stable.

Every day we struggle to find a piece of debris that once was the American dream. The dream that has gotten away from most of us, that only one percent still holds.

Economic bon vivants and talking empty heads vomit words fed to them by lobbyists, while dining at restaurants, as, we, the people eat table scraps scattered on the floor.

It used to be easy to get in the door, but now there is a schism so wide it extends from shore to darkened shore, preventing us from picking up the dusty remnants of the American dream.

We dust it off the homes we have to say goodbye to.

We dust it off the cars that were repossessed.

We dust it off our savings that dies slowly, while hooked up to life support.

We lost everything we once took for granted that we can’t take for granted anymore.

But not the bankers, politicians, and CEOs. They climb higher toward the pie in the sky on the greenbacks of the people that fell beneath them.

They are royalty and fat cats, gathering the leave-behinds that get smaller in the rearview mirrors of the cars driven by every man, for he is the fool who pays taxes and follows the rules as lawyers hired by royalty help them jump through loopholes in the Cayman Islands.

But there are other places to go.

They move their corporations out of the United States to countries with lower tax rates. See the jobs disappear faster than a politician can pull a lobbyist out his ass.

Now the fat cats own the American dream, while Americans sit and dream of the way life used to be.

There was a time we derived pleasure from simplicity but nothing’s simple anymore.

Several years ago, the universe shifted and knocked most of us off our feet, while others still reap in the rewards.

How can that be? When the dream died, did it put the CEOs in charge?

When did, we, the people snuff the fire from our eyes?

The fire is our only hope for taking back the American dream. Out of the ashes our dreams will one day grow.

Enhanced by Zemanta

Reality Check: Testing, One, Two, Three.

Two Kids, boy and girl (Trysta), Watch the Par...Image by mikebaird via Flickr

A sustained screech of the microphone.

“I can’t hear you!”

Cease reality check.

Commence email check.

There are 1256 emails in my inbox. Make that 1301.

I’m trying to see how many emails I can stockpile before my mailbox explodes.

The Google says, “You are currently using 526 MB (6%) of your 7566 MB.”

Almost there! Just another day or two – A short-term goal.

Other short-term goals:

  • Check turkey in oven. Oh, that was last November. I cremated the bird.
  • Change wall calendar to reflect appropriate year. 2009 or 2010?
  • Pry open window shade stapled to frame.
  • Turn on car to make sure battery isn’t in a coma.
  • Stop Dust Bunnies from multiplying. Separate males from females.
  • Go to market, get 11 items and wait in line at the register designated “10 items or less.”


I dump 11 items onto the conveyor belt, placing them in alphabetical order, in color subsets.

(Points to sign that says ten items or less)
You have eleven items including a six-pack of beer. That makes 17.

Yes and . . .?

The sign says ten items or less.

Well can I group items together? Spaghetti and sauce make a great pair.

What kind of sauce?


Well, then I need to see some I.D.

How ‘bout counting the wrinkles on my forehead instead. I’m sure I have more than 21.

Need to see an I.D. Elephants and babies have wrinkles, too.

How ‘bout boob droop then? Every year past 21 is equivalent to a one-inch drop.

Just show me your license.

Remove license from wallet stuffed with beer coupons and hand it to cashier.

Whoa! You’re way past 21. I’m surprised you’re still able to stand.

Grab license.

Just check me out before I check out.

I pay for items then leave in a flight suit.

Mission accomplished!

Got to stop at the pet store to pick up Dust Bunny condoms and food.

Irony or Oy Vey What a Wrinkle.

Various antique irons.Image via Wikipedia

I follow the writing prompt of the day to irony and a wrinkled blouse that gets wedged against the ironing board that stands idly by lacking interest.

With each pressing moment, blouse increasingly reacts badly to the steam. She is a shriveling mess and does not respond well to the pressure.

Poor blouse, lying glued against the weary board. She cannot escape the fact that she lacks the constitution of cotton. She is a fake after all, a synthetic fiber mutt shipped in a box from China with other motley materialistic masses.

Blouse cannot handle the truth that she will never be like her cotton counterpart that performs somersaults in the dryer, finishing her routine with a perfect ten from the judge from Lintland.

Unlike synthetic blouse, cotton remains firm under pressure and can handle the heat, even after an ironic twist of the wrist leaves a wrinkle. Cotton does not falter. The wrinkles that line her back disappear from the rejuvenating steam iron spa. After the treatment, she is refreshed and hangs out in the bar with all the trendy clothes.

While bogus blouse, with creases embedded in her shoulders, gets tossed into a pile of rags. She is now fragments of her former self, crumpled and worn, a victim of the irony and hypocrisy of being wrinkle-free.

Writing prompt, irony, provided by Studio30Plus.

Irony – an outcome of events contrary to what was, or might have been, expected.
Enhanced by Zemanta

Just A.D.D. and Me and the Circus in My Head.

The Circus, by Georges Seurat, painted 1891. O...Image via Wikipedia

ADD means different things to different people.
To a mathematician, it means counting up.

To a contractor, it means increasing square footage. 

To the tangentially inclined, like me, it means living with a circus in my head, deciding between watching the high wire act, the trapeze artist or heading to the concession stand for some popcorn and a drink.

The ADD mind is like a three-ring circus that never stops. Thoughts race from one act to the other until the frontal lobe or ringmaster regains control. 

How does the frontal lobe regain control? – By keeping a to-do list front and center, taking meds or both. This empowers the frontal lobe who shouts, “Get back on task” into her megaphone. Then, hyperfocus enters the show, the ADD superpower that anchors the brain for hours on the main event.

Since I’m a two-solution kind of gal, I use both methods to regain control, a team of “fluster busters” that keeps me focused on the show unless I’m in creative mode, and then I follow the spot light to the flow of ideas whirling around the circus tent.

Do I drive people crazy? Most definitely, especially my husband who often doesn’t understand what I’m talking about. I start sentences in mid thought or continue conversations that ended hours ago. It goes without saying. I usually have “some splainin to do.”

The WTF look in my husband’s eyes is priceless and is usually followed by a jaw to floor drop. On occasion, he’ll scratch his head, perplexed, though other times it’s just an itch.

Keeping up with the frenetic fast forward thought thrust and double reverse back track requires a remote control and caption control or just the simple utterance of a “what?”

Lots of whats echo in my house. That’s when I hit the pause button, try to remember the plot and back up the Digital Thought Recorder (DTR) to the befuddle point right before the commercial break – the place that leaves me and other viewers with a blank screen moment, when a train of thought tangent falls off the tracks.

Then, I need to check the navigation system in my head to find my point.

There’s a circus in my head.

Without warning, darkness rips the filaments from the bulbs. Anticipation festers in the dark bewildered crowd, reflected in a murmur of sound.

A drum roll echoes, then a white light floods the ring where two dogs race in circles chasing their tails.

Wait! Those are my two dogs with one purpose in mind – to distract the distracted and send the ringmaster to her trailer to find the list.

Do you have a circus in your head?
Enhanced by Zemanta