Funny thing happened...

...on my way to the high school and back. First, I'm assaulted by a tumbleweed the size of Texas. Thing comes barreling out of nowhere and sideswipes my car over by the fairgrounds. I make it to the school without further incident and deliver the nuclear notebook of Aaron's. I forewarned the dean's secretary that it is possibly toxic and to open it at your own risk. She passed the notebook to a student to make the delivery with the same warning. I exited the building quickly to avoid the fallout--just in case it was accidently dropped or opened. As I am making my way to my car, my stomach starts giving its rumbling warning of a Mt. Buttsuvious eruption. I had better get home quick! So much for going to Lins and other errands for the moment. As I am turning to leave the school, another car is making a turn in front of me. We drive along passing the Catholic Church when another tumbleweed decided to attack out of nowhere. I managed to squash it before it could do any damage. A piece of it is still stuck in the grill. A near miss followed this from a renegade trash bag. My stomach is really grumbling and rumbling and I feel the pressure building. This is not going to be good. The car in front of me is driving about 10 miles an hour and a Klingon Bird of Prey (aka NHP) suddenly materialize behind me. I do not know how they do it but they can appear and disappear in a blink. So of course, I was not going to pass this person at warp speed while the cop was behind me. I am really exercising some muscles now. Finally, the car in front of me slowly makes a turn leaving the way for me to accelerate to the speed of light home. First, I check to see where NHP is. Wherever they are, it is not behind me anymore. They must have engaged their cloaking device and followed the other car. Warp speed engaged! The pressure has built up so much; I did not think I was going to make it the bathroom in time. The thought crossed my mind that I might have to shampoo a car seat and throw away some favorite clothing. Once I am home, I managed to hurdle the gate, do a two-step tango with the dog, taking the stairs two at a time to the upstairs and nearest bathroom. It was t minus 1 second to blast off. Whew, I made it! But wait, there's more. The story does not end here. In my rush to make it to the toilet, I did not discern or have the time to evaluate the situation in regards to how well stocked the bathroom was with toilet paper. Yep, you guessed it. There was a major explosion and NO TOILET PAPER!! Moreover, since I am home alone and have not trained the dog to bring a roll on command, I had to figure something out. Good thing I was home alone, as I had to make my way to the downstairs bathroom, bare butt, to get toilet paper. This always happens to me. I am usually the one with my bum exposed with no toilet paper. Story of my life.

I found another Gem of Events

I was awakened at too dark early by my 13 yr old daughter screaming for help in a very loud whisper. The was an intruder in her room and she could not sleep because it was making too much noise. Alarm! Panic! Intruder Alert! Hey, wait a sec....! The "intruder" was a kangaroo rat. A baby one. It had scurried into Taylor's backpack to escape Sugar the cat. The commotion brought on by the chase woke up Taylor who woke me up to help catch the thing before the cat did. Yeah, likely...the cat catch it before us?? Too early for that kind of laugh.

The little critter, eager to escape death by fluff, made it easy for us by taking refuge in Taylor's backpack. Now, anyone with teenage kids knows that handling their backpacks require gas mask, hazmat suits, and tongs. Therefore, I let her handle her backpack. I was more concerned the rat would die from inhaling noxious gases than it being pawed to death by the cat. So we…uh, she… took it outside to release it. It hopped off into the weeds we call grass in our front yard. Then suddenly from across the driveway, Willow comes charging over to say “Good Morning” to me but takes a sudden hard left, as if someone had yanked her by a rope, and zeroed in on the rat. I had forgotten the bathroom window, aka cat door, was open and Sugar came bounding out of it and across the yard. They were tag teaming this rat. So imagine if you will the following scene.

Kangaroo rat is hopping around the yard like a pin ball bouncing off trees and other objects, cats are chasing said pin ball—running into each other and over one another, and me, chasing all three…in the dark…in my jammies….with bare feet…in a yard full of stickers. We manage to corner the critter and shoo the cats away from it. I reach down to pick it up with cupped hand, to save it from a horrible, painful death—AND THE DANG THING BITES ME!!! WTF MATE?? And it drew blood—little stinker. It will not let go! This thing has clamped down on my thumb with jaws like a vice grip. I am jumping around in place, with this rat attached to my thumb and I am screaming like a peacock. As I am jumping around, thoughts of rabies, hanta virus and e-colli come to mind. Friendly and cute, my behind!! Thanks I get for saving its hide. So to return the favor, I bring it in; put it in an ice cream bucket with air holes (without the ice cream); and some seeds. We plan to release it—someone where there are no cats. However, can’t guarantee there won’t be Hawks.

Traffic Signs

So yesterday, as I was cooking dinner, Aaron comes in to share some Family Feud videos on  his iTouch. Since I am busy cooking, I offer to listen with him. He plays several episodes which were funny. But there was one that got my attention. The topic was: "What traffic sign best describes your love life?" The first response was "Stop Sign". Okay. expecting that one. So while the host, Steve Harvey was consoling the guy who gave the answer, I remembered a sign I once saw and so randomly yell out "Speed Hump". Aaron froze. His mouth fell open and he stared at me. He yelled, "MOM!". I looked up from my cooking asked "what?". Aaron said, "Ewwwww! I don't need to know your sign for your sex life!". I told him that wasn't MY sex life, it was a sign I remembered seeing...near a church. It didn't matter. The damage was done. Aaron was totally mortified. Who knows what images he had conjured up in his mind. I didn't ask. At that point Sal came home. Aaron regales him with the recent episode. He exclaims, "I can't believe some of the things that come out of mom's mouth. I don't expect these things from her." Sal was busy laughing and didn't say much until I said, "For example: Watch For Falling Rocks." This time, they both froze, stood there with their mouths open, starring.

What? Actual signs. Yes, even Speed Hump.

Valentine's Day Pondering: Antivalentinism?

Antivalentinism: The forced observation of romantic love based on the idea that if a person is forced to profess their love to another (especially on a universally agreed-upon day), or else suffer the consequence of not doing so, then there is no free will in said expression and thus it is not love.

I do not get Valentine’s Day. I mean, I get the history, the origins, and the traditions of the Holiday. What I do not get is why it is so important to many people, especially women that on this particular day, the proclamation of love, adoration, etc is more significant than any other day. Aside from maybe the matrimonial anniversary, what makes this day so extraordinary? Many couples have had ferocious fight because the husband or boyfriend forgot to acknowledge the “love of his life” on this day. Someone walks away with a limp or missing limbs and that someone is most likely the man. Face it ladies, women are more likely to get twisted when this day is overlooked. Some women expect--demand even--that their mates be the one to bear the gifts and plan the activities. Woe unto the man who forgets! {Insert fangs and claws here}What about the other 363 days of the year? I know there are 365 days in a year, however, if you subtract Valentine’s Day and your anniversary—the two days that DEMAND acknowledging your partner—that leaves 363 to ignore them. Unless you misguidedly chose Valentines Day as your wedding day, then you are ignored 364 days of the year. Shouldn’t expressions of love be freely given without duress, without fear of losing a limb from an affronted partner, and not on any scheduled uniform day?

Most men do not put as much emphasis on the day as women. Do not get me wrong, there are some very sentimental romantic men out there who love to express their adulation for their spouse any chance they get, and this day provides them with another opportunity to do so. My husband is one such man. I, on the other hand, am not a sappy romantic and so do not put much value into Valentine’s Day. Therefore, my husband is usually the one pining and moaning about the lack of attention. However, he does say that he is fortunate that I am not a demanding female in constant need of reassurance of my husbands love and needy for his attention. The situation is rather opposite. If flowers or gifts should arrive, my first thought is “What day is this and what/who did I forget?”  Upon checking the calendar, I realize that it is either my anniversary or maybe Valentines Day. It is the days where nothing is observed that get me confused. Seriously, what did I forget this time?

Even children are not immune from this day. There are classroom celebrations where valentines are exchanged amongst classmates. The rub here is that even if a classmate absolutely loathes another classmate, it is still required to give that person a valentine, so to avoid hurt feelings. If a “valentine” is meant to be given to those we love, adore, like (note the positives here), why are children expected to give valentines to their bully or to classmates that they just do not get along with? As adults, we do not give Valentines to our exes (for those that have them).  I belong to the group of exes. I do not send mine a valentine and he reciprocates.  I understand that the school activity is a fun thing to do and let us face it, kids need as much fun in school as they can get, especially with the elimination of recess and other breaks in the day.

This is just my short perspectives and thoughts on the day. Concurrence is not necessary. For those who have partners, go have fun and celebrate. For those who are otherwise unattached for the moment, have fun celebrating your independence and the gift of love for yourself. For in order to love another, one must love themselves (no, not in self-obsessed absorbed perverted kind of way). I had to clarify. There are those reading this that would think just that. You know who you are.