ENOUGH, ALREADY

Wow. Talk about be careful for what you wish. For the past three months, I've bitched and complained about having to water my new trees. All 40 of them. And, all my new landscaped plants, too. Oh yeah... the tinge of brown on my lawn didn't thrill me any too much, either.

Anyway, I have to spend hours every other day, doing this watering job and boy. Do I ever hate it! It's hot. I'm tired. It takes forever... blah, blah, blah. Most of all, I stand there doing this crapola job, PRAYING it would rain. And I'm not praying for a sprinkle, either. I'm praying for a DOWNPOUR. How could we go three damn months with NO rain whatsoever??

Oops. Guess what. I got rain! A lot of it, too. Uh.... like maybe TOO much rain?? Oh my God... its been basically 24 hours of straight rain and now I'm actually worried! The roots are going to be way too soaked and rot?? EEEEKS. Say it ain't so.

God answered my prayers beginning just after lunch, yesterday. I loved the first hour of his taking over the watering bit. I even loved the second hour. But by the FIFTH?? Lord, I must have looked out the window a zillion times, checking to see which plants, if any, were in major overflow mode. It's been a day now, that the rains have been falling, and I can't even imagine how long this is going to go on. It better stop soon, though... my lawn guy will be here tomorrow to mow and I don't want the grass SO wet, it won't even cut. Already, I can see where the saying WHEN IT RAINS, IT POURS, comes from.

What kills me most, however is that you never ever REALLY know when the forecasters are or are not going to be correct. Half the time they forecast possible thunderstorms, and bingo. NOTHING HAPPENS. Then, they tell me possible showers and the next thing I know, its raining for a full damn day. Uh... you think that's why they call it a PREDICTION?

I guess I shouldn't complain, though. I COULD be living, God forbid, in those area where the tornadoes are ripping entire cities apart on like a daily basis. Huh?? Who would even LIVE there, anyway?? Whoa... now, there's a weather story! But, alas, for another day, I'm afraid. For today, I'm grabbing my weather gauge and checking the rainfall. Uh... up to five inches, so far.

F THEM, F YOU, F THE WORLD

Man, am I steaming. I can't believe the f-ing hassle I'm having just to return two damn items via UPS. You would think it'd take one lousy call to schedule a pickup and boom. It would be over. But, NOOOOOOOO. It's gotta be fifteen calls to the company to which I'm mailing these return packages and then 12 calls to UPS, themselves.

Jesus... it's way too early in the morning for this crap, too. And here I was, thinking I'd start my day bright and early, happy and produtive... boom. In one mere hour and a half, my entire day is f-ed up. I'm in a crappy mood thanks to this hassle and I sorta feel like eating an entire batch of brownies to make it all better. Now THERE'S a remedy, if ever there was.

As if this hassle isn't enough, I also decided I'm sick and tired of all this automated B.S. in the first place. Where are all THE REAL PEOPLE?? Why can't I just tell them what I need, they say SURE and bingo... I'm a happy camper. Job done. Half the time, I can't even figure out my new fancy, schmancy cell phone. I have no clue what to do when there's a call waiting, how to get directly to a number in the calling list without scrolling down 400 numbers, blah, blah, blah. The list goes on and on. Even my iTunes library is giving me hassles. Another story, altogether. Oh yeah... I just popped three peanut M&M's in my mouth. That outta help.

So basically, I'm off to start my day. Let one person piss me off and ZING... I may have to let them have it. Too bad you can't spend the day with ME today, huh? Man, I'd be a barrel of fun.

Whew. I've let off steam. Okay... maybe I can now go back to the ever loving, easy going, always smiling lady that I am. Or... maybe not. I sorta like this bitching bit. It cleanses the soul.

LAWS OF MAN

AP: 2008-05-09 10:37:48
Rep. Vito Fossella (Republican) of New York acknowledged Thursday that he has a 3-year-old daughter from an extramarital affair. The revelation came after the Republican congressman, who has three children with his wife, was arrested on drunken driving charges.

YOU READING THIS??? IS THIS GUY NUTS, OR WHAT?? Can you IMAGINE what his wife and family are going through right now?? Trust me... the details get worse, so I suggest you check out the full story. I, for one, am soooo sick of all these politicians and their sexual scandals. Is it not enough that Congress has already served themselves so much better than they have served the public? They ALSO have to now be contemplating serving TIME, as well? Geez... this so pisses me off. Okay... I get it... very few actually WILL serve any time, but Jesus... I have just about had it up to here with this hypocrisy. Hello?? Elliot Spitzer, please. Oh... hi Elli... Vito here. Uh... I'm screwed. Any suggestions?

Now, don't get me wrong. I've been around the block a few times, thus haven't just come out from under a rock. I know that people innocently enough, find themselves in situations they didn't expect, weren't necessarily looking for, AND never wanted to share with the public at large. I also know that often, there actually ARE reasons people seek outside relationships yet don't dissolve marriages... children, financial, medical, social, whatever. BUT... ISN'T THIS THE ADMINISTRATION THAT IS SO HELL BENT ON BEING SO RELIGIOUSLY FAITH BASED? Aren't so many of these lawmakers touting how categorically Christian-like they expect the entire country to live? And, if we don't... we're banned to hell forever??

Man... this holier than thou crap just irks me. Again, not so much because I don't get it that life takes people on crazy ass twists and turns. But MUCH MORE because I keep finding out that it's these exact people, who are judging every OTHER person who has made a disapproving choice, yet who themselves turn out to be sheer scum.Who made THESE people judge and jury, anyway? ESPECIALLY since they see no connection between good for goose - good for gander. I can't beLIEVE these idiots are so damn strict for their constituents, but bingo... need to hurry up and vote, because Babs or Toots are somewhere, waiting. Except in Fossella's case... his girlfriend AND his secret child were waiting.

Anyway, I just ask that our congressmen STOP DOING CRAP that they THEMSELVES are so damn ready to blast others about. And, for God sakes... STOP BEING SO F-ING IMMORAL behind everyone's back, too. By the way, I don't care what anybody says... Senator Craig definitely had some kind of come on thing going on in that infamous bathroom stall. To me, the only contact one needs to make while in an airport bathroom is: Uh... can you please pass me some toilet tissue? Bingo. Conversation over. As for Mark Foley, don't even get me started.

Anyway, I was taking a break before I headed out to the garage, to finish some work. I figured I'd just log on and check email... and whammo! I'm hit with yet ANOTHER lawmaker bringing on personal chaos. I just couldn't control myself from venting... thus, this entry. Whew. Okay... I think I'm back on track now. I came. I vented. I'm done.

ZERO TO SIXTY

Care to guess what 60 looks like nowadays? Well, guess no more, my friend. There it is, right next to this text. Now, I'm not saying this is a particularly GREAT looking sixty, but regardless, there you have it. I remember my Grandmother being in her sixties... she never made it to her seventies... and man, did she look old. Kinda just like a Grandma should. Only NOW can I appreciate that probably, way back then, she might have looked damn GOOD, for all I know.

I of course have no clue, whether or not she actually CELebrated her 60th birthday, but you can be sure I AM! In fact, the celebration is just days away. I can't wait. In fact, the other day Claudia was over. We were meandering around my kitchen and I remember her asking: YOU GOING TO HAVE A BIRTHDAY CAKE?? I looked at her absolutely stunned... you need to even ASK such a question?? My God... birthday cakes are my all time favorite FOOD GROUP. Of COURSE I'm going to have a cake! Huh? Isn't that even the whole PURpose of a birthday? Forget the company of family and friends. Forget the probable presents. CAKE! THAT'S what it's all about, if you ask me. Oh yeah... that and ice cream! Chocolate, of course.

Do I feel sixty?? Well, uh... yes, actually. My sagging breasts are a lovely reminder. So are my trifocal glasses. My hearing is going downhill pretty fast, and nothing could make me happier than climbing into bed by 9:30 at night. SO not what I used to love. I'd much rather stay put than make travel plans and a delicious dinner can now easily consist of a melted cheese sandwich on pita bread. It goes without saying, I can't remember a damn thing anymore and my pleasure barometer for listening to my kid play his drums, is at an all time low. Oh yeah... and I'm like completely grey and/or white.

On the other hand, I'm the wisest lady on the block by now. I know what I'm all about and I know what I like and what I don't like. I COULD look a whole lot worse I guess, and there's not much you can tell me that would shock me, anymore. I get to pay senior citizen prices at the movies, and I can easily spot total idiots, thus I don't even bother arguing with them... I'm too old to waste my time. I've accumulated a horde of wonderful memories... some pretty spicy ones, too. Bottom Line: YIPPEE. I'm going to be having a great time on my 60th birthday! Who could ask for more?

Besides, if you ask me... I'm thinking, greater things are even yet to come. Case in point: today, I'm going to my girlfriend's beautiful wedding! And she's a decade older than I am! So, who says there isn't a whole lot of livin' yet to do?

I don't know exactly when God means to pull me outta this world, but I so telling you... I hope it's not any time TOO soon. Besides, if it IS sooner rather than later, I'll be kinda pissed. Afterall, how the hell would I know what I'd look like at SEVENTY??

ABOUT LAST NIGHT

Well, THAT was a crazy night. Seems as if God thinks maybe I need a little bit more drama going in my life, so boom, he likes to provide some.

All day yesterday, the day before Sonny Boy is ready to return to school, he was complaining about having to continously go to the bathroom, and having a funny feeling in his abdomen. Being the medical expert on All Things Treatable, I asked about his symptoms, etc. According to the Linda school of Medicine, I determined he must be courting a urinary infection. At which point I gave him an antibiotic specifically FOR this problem. Within hours you're supposed to feel a hell of a lot better.

Except many hours later, he didn't. Uh... could it be my medical training is slipping just a bit? EEKS. Well, at least I know to approach the higher ups, when needed. As in: see a REAL medical specialist, when all else fails. Hence, a couple hours after dinner, I suggested we high tail it to the emergency room to have a urine test taken so we can determine exactly what's going on. After all, I DO want to send my most loved human being back to school feeling in tip top shape. Enter: Emergency Room.

Geez... Now THERE'S a wait, if ever there was. I shan't get bogged down here in details, though trust me... I could give you an ear full up the kazoo. We DID learn something interesting, however. Don't EVER tell them you're kinda okay. Always tell the receptionist... OH MY GOD. THIS IS THE WORST PAIN I'VE EVER HAD. I NEED TO SEE THE DOC LICKETY SPLIT. Because if you don't... you'll wait... uh... like an hour and half to actually be seen. Sort of like we did. Anyway... the real story here is: also, don't believe everything the doctor's tell you. If you do, you might be misdiagnosed.

Reason? Because, get this... after speaking to us, getting the low down on everything, etc., etc., the doctor in fact, took a urine test. And although it DID prove negative for an infection, he was going to treat him for one, anyway, given the possibility. TIME OUT... HOLD ON, HERE. WAIT JUST A MINUTE, Mr. Emergency Room Doctor. If it's negative, then to ME that means something ELSE is amiss. Bottom Line: DO A CT SCAN!

Bingo. We had one done and... sitting down? No urinary infection, after all! DIVERTICULITIS instead! Oh my God. SO NOT A HAPPY THING. I should know. I've had these attacks which actually, even lead to some major surgery a while back. Okay... so we're dealing with a whole DIFFERENT problem, I see. Damnit. But, as the ole saying goes, all's well that ends well.

My child was diagnosed. Got his meds. He's feeling better. And he's headed back to Florida, as we speak. I, of course am sitting here, fingers crossed that he arrives there as healthy as he was when he arrived here. Afterall, I want my baby to be perfect on Mother's Day.

ALL GOOD THINGS....

... must come to an end. I can't believe it. After two months of having my son at home, he's headed back to school again. Damnit. I am so telling you... empty nest syndrome all over again. Which is too bad, given it's been a fabulous two months.

First of all, he IS amongst my all time favorite people. Second of all, he has major muscles, which is pretty handy when moving/lifting really heavy items. Third of all, he is definitely techie savvy, thus he was a HUGE help with my computer, my iPod, my television and my new cell phone. Fourth of all, he was more than happy to take over my most hated job... watering the trees. Fifth of all, he did he own laundry and was MUCH tidier than I ever remember. Sixth of all... I love him like crazy.

It's going to be really nuts after he's gone; I won't be hearing my favorite sound... the automatic garage door opening, signaling he's pulling up in the driveway. Of course, I also won't be hearing the buzzing of his remote control helicopter which is by far, his favorite toy. Nor will I be hearing Howard Stern each time I enter his bedroom. Worst of all, I'll have NO ONE TO DO MY ZILLIONS OF ERRANDS. Well, that's not completely true. Pat will resume those duties, thank goodness.

But... seeing him drive away the day after tomorrow, is definitely going to leave a pit in the bottom of my stomach. Yet, the best part of it all, is that he too, loved being here for all these weeks. We had a great time and many laughs. Only a couple of times did I have to tell him he's outta his ever loving, freakin' mind. Well, okay. Maybe three or four. But, still, I think that's is a pretty good ratio, all in all. Good bye watching South Park. Good bye hearing about the old naked men in the locker room at the gym. Good bye having to take a bite out of my sandwiches. And, good bye 32 trips to the grocery store per week.

I'm a sad lady, for sure. That's the bad news. The good news is: I can have all the quiet I want. All the thermostat to myself. And all happiness of knowing I've got one hell of a wonderful kid. Who could ask for more?

MYSTERY HANDS

See that hand there? It's mine. And, my nails, too. Actually, it's what my nails are SUPPOSED to look like. SO not what I'm sporting nowadays. It's blowing my mind, too.

For 26 years, I've been doing my own nails. I gave my up standing manicure appointments the day my son was born. Instead, I began doing my OWN manicure, right in the comfy confines of my own home, wearing a comfy nightgown and sitting upon my comfy couch. And, ever since then, you could pretty much count on my hands looking much like they do in that picture. Except, some weeks the nails are red, some weeks mauve, some weeks maybe even a pale copper shade.

BUT NOW?? Oh my lord... for the first time in YEARS, I have no length whatsoever to my nails. In fact, my hands don't even LOOK like they belong to me. I am plenty freaked, too. In fact, right now, when I type, my FINGERS are actually pressing the keys. Not my nails, like they usually do. No wonder... there ARE no nails to do the pressing. Damnit.

I can't figure out what's going on, either. I only know that they keep splitting and becoming shorter and shorter. Actually, my left hand is looking much better than my right, but still, wearing all my favorite rings now requires mighty careful selection since I usually choose my rings according to my nail length. Case in point: wearing my favorite really LARGE, glitzy rings so don't look so hotsi totsi when adorning short stubby finger nails. Hence lately, I'm pretty much wearing rings that you'd find on any happening 9 year old. Geez.

Maybe it's the way I'm filing? The bottom coat I'm using? The heavy duty manual labor I'm doing in my garage? Boy, I wished I knew the cause. What I DO know however, is that tonight is manicure night. I am PRAYING that they'll begin to grow again. I'm getting mighty tired of these little girl rings I'm forced to wear and oh, so miss, my glitzy grownup ones. Besides, with nails this short, I can't even CHOOSE which color polish to use. The short length definitely mandates it's got to be something like: BARELY THERE. Which pretty much describes not only the color of the polish, but the length of the nails, too.