My Little Savant

I am currently writing two blogs because there are people who would actually like to hear what is going on with us as a family without having to weed through my ramblings about myself. I had not, however, considered the fact that I might encounter a crossover blog. One that is funny and relevant to my ramblings as a self-obsessed, crazy person, and one that is also based on my child. I actually sat here and stared at the screen for a moment... which do I pick? Where do I go with this blog? Do I make it a cute, short and to-the-point blog in my family section, or do I go in an entirely different direction and put it in my ramblings.

I did mention that I'm a self-obsessed, crazy person, right? Well, there's your answer and here we are. That doesn't mean that you won't see these same pictures in my family blog, but I had to write about it here - it's too funny.

Not, too long ago I went to my daughter's preschool to meet with her teachers. I'm always anxious about these meetings. Fearful of what judgment has been built up over the last few months... What phrases my daughter has repeated to the other 3-year-olds... or worse... her teachers. It doesn't help that this preschool is in my church and I actually go to church with some of the teachers there and a lot of the parents. So a meeting of this caliber is a bit terrifying. To add insult to injury, they make you sit in the little, tiny chairs so your eyes are almost level to the edge of the table... you're small and helpless, ready for your criticism. I'll admit I tend to be a bit overly dramatic, but don't think your kids don't talk at school! My 6 year-old came home and told me that one of her classmates' parents (who shall remain nameless to protect the innocent) sit naked together in the hot tub. They talk, my friends. Oh yes. You just don't know it.

So I'm sitting in my teeny chair looking like Kareem Abdul Jabar on the bench - sitting with my knees up to my ears, trying not talk too much and it turns out that the news isn't so bad. It's never, EVER as bad as I make it out in my head... one of the benefits of being dramatic. Some of it is actually pretty good. For example - she's only one of two kids in her class that can write her name. WONDERFUL! And, apparently she's a very gifted artist - all her people have torsos. Amazing. I realize you probably don't think this is a big deal. In fact, I shared that sentiment until I was shown the other kids' pictures of bubbles with arms and legs shooting out of them - no necks, no bodies... just giant, freak heads on sticks. Then I was shown Mallory's little people with heads and necks and bodies with feet and eyelashes and fingers... and hands... all the little details you expect a drawing of a human to have. Pretty cool! (She doesn't get any of that from me - I still draw bubbles with legs.) Whatever was said in the rest of the meeting, I'm not sure. I was just so impressed with her torso drawings.

After that I kept looking forward to the art projects that she might bring home to see what kind of inspirational artwork she would come up with on her own, without the influence of her older sister or me drawing next to her (of course I'm probably bringing her down). What kinds of masterpieces would our little smarty come up with to impress us? Of course most of what she brought home after that were projects where they dipped marbles in paint and rolled them around on paper or a similar project with sponges cut into shapes. Nothing remarkable... nothing, that is, until the following picture was sent home:



Artistic Genius!! To be honest I never really get abstract art anyway, so it might just be that it's beyond my comprehension... I can't be sure... A broken machine? I don't even know where it came from... we don't have one of those that we keep on hand. Maybe she's making a political statement. Can three-year-olds be poignant? Well if you look at my daughter's artwork then you'll know the answer is, YES. Yes, they can.

That's not it, though. The other day I was walking down the hallway at church when my husband pointed out her class' artwork hanging on the wall. They were drawing pictures of dandelions and then saying the things they had wished for. I took pictures of a couple of the other childrens' wishes, too:

Abby wants a dinosaur or a dog. Those are understandable wishes. I love dogs. And who didn't want to go to Jurassic Park... before the fences failed and the dinosaurs ate everyone? I know I did! I wouldn't say it's the work of a genius, but it's not bad.

Molly would like to go to Chuck E. Cheese. I get that. They have games there... and beer... I'd take her. Still... where's the message, Molly? Were you even really trying?


Then we have Mallory - my little prodigy:


Just in case you can't read that, I took a close up...


Just think about that for a moment... A stick made out of rope, indeed.

Indeed, Mallory.

It's Not Easy Being Green

Paper or plastic no more... although I haven't been asked that question in years. I haven't been asked that question in so long that I was surprised to learn grocery stores still carry paper bags. Of course in every commercial you watch the woman (always a woman... I guess the grocery store has too many colors and bright lights for men to be successful grocery shoppers) carry her groceries in one, MAYBE two, but typically all of her groceries will fit into one, paper bag. I suppose it does look much nicer on TV than 400 plastic bags would. Is that an exaggeration? NO. Maybe... Okay YES it's an exaggeration, they don't actually give you 400 bags, but it's close! ATTENTION GROCERY BAGGERS: You don't need to separate EVERYTHING! I hate getting home from grocery store to find that they have placed a pack of gum and a card in one giant bag. What the Hell!? Does that really need it's own bag? If so, just hand it to me and I'll put it in my purse. I went to Wal-mart with my kids and bought 5 items... 5 not big, toiletry-type, not-misshapen items and the woman gave me 2 bags. What the? Seriously?

What it must be like to travel with these people! How many suitcases do you bring with you?? I mean, really! By the way you're bagging my groceries I can only imagine that you carry a separate suitcase with you for your shoes, shirts, pants, undergarments, socks and toiletries. And if one of those suitcases might appear half-way full... Get another suitcase!! Do you see my struggle with this logic?

So now I've got this cabinet that is dedicated to nothing, but plastic shopping bags... and it is FULL. I'm shoving them in there and it barely wants to close and I decide that this is ridiculous and I will no longer shop without my purchased, re-usable bags. The ones I keep buying and storing in my kitchen and then forgetting every time I go to the store. Those. From now on I will use those! If I don't forget them, of course. I've also stuffed handfuls of plastic bags inside the fabric bags so I can gradually dump them off in the recycling box at the store and take back my cabinet! I have so many plans for my new cabinet... what will I store in there!? Isn't my life exciting!?

So anyway, since I've dedicated myself to Earth-friendly grocery shopping I've learned something: Grocery store check-out people and baggers HATE these bags. HATE them. And as a result, they are starting to hate... ME. Anyone who knows me knows that I hate it when people hate me - I really identified with Pam on The Office when she said, "I don't even like thinking that Al Qaeda doesn't like me." Sad, but true. If they just got to know me...

You walk into the store with the bags and immediately everyone lazers in on you with their hate vision. "Great" they think to themselves... "This lady again." I know they're thinking this because I have yet to see anyone else carrying these bags. They make inaudible comments under their breath when they hand over my bags to the bagger. I get why they have a problem with this at Wal-mart, but have yet to understand it at Kroger or Food City. I've actually stopped going to Food City all together because the people there are just rude... and they quit carrying all my favorite things, but that's a different rant all together. I now drive an extra mile to Kroger, where they still hate me, but at least they hate me while smiling.
You see, at Wal-mart the check out person is also the bagger. And, at all of our locations (there are 3 Wal-marts within an 5 mile radius of my house) they don't have that conveyer belt that runs the groceries to a bagger person. Instead the check out person IS the bagger person and the bags hang from hooks next to the check out person and in some cases, they're on this spinning thing where the person can quickly go from bag to bag and then you are required to pull them and stick them in your cart (don't miss this step because that will also anger them... even though I don't remember signing up for this job) I learned the other day that they are timed on their scanning of items to make sure they don't suck, and since the check-out lines aren't set up to accomidate these bags, it makes it difficult for them to meet their quota. Okay! I get that! Thank you for telling me. Now here's where I say, "Sorry, but I don't care. I have already started making plans for my new cabinet." The lady actually told me that I could bring in the plastic bags to recycle them. Sorry - did we just eliminate reduce and reuse? Even my 6 year-old can tell you that it's not enough to just recycle! Don't tell me it's the same if I bring my bags in! Don't you know what it takes just to remember to bring in these bags!? And after I've say, "I just can't deal with the plastic bags anymore." The Wal-mart checker says, "I know! I use the fabric bags, too." Oooh... I see... it's only okay when YOU do it.

I give up.

But, I get why the Wal-mart folks get a little pissy. My bags can hinder their job performance. But I say "For Shame, Wal-mart." If you're not going to compensate for the bags, then why sell them in the first place? You want to encourage their use! How much money would your franchise save by not having to use plastic bags anymore? But that's Wal-mart. What about grocery stores? Here's what I see: You have the conveyer belt that slides the groceries away from the Checker to the Bagger - even if you're timed - my bags don't affect you. The Bagger doesn't have to separate every thing into coordinated bags - saving time! The Bagger doesn't have to use as many bags - saving time! I would think that if you're being timed, you'd look like a rock star! I don't see an issue. Would someone please explain to me why they still give me the furry eye-ball when I hand over my bags? Do they hate Earth? Does it disrupt their compulsive need to put everything into it's own bag? What is the problem here?

Maybe it wouldn't be such a big deal if ONE other person in Knoxville would join me in my quest. Take bag your plastic bag cabinet! Think of the things you could put in there... place mats... storage containers... pots... or pans... or you could go in a totally different direction and put shoes or... or crayons and art supplies in there! The possibilites are endless! Then maybe we could all be hated together, or the grocery store people will get used to us and I can return to a harmonious relationship with them. Please. I can't stand the hate! Help me love Earth (and open up some cabinet space).

Blogs From My Past, Part IV

Just as we're hitting Spring in full stride... a little tribute to Fall.

September 28, 2006 - Thursday

I love Fall. I love Fall... Autumn... whatever, I love it. There isn't anything you could say that could truly capture the essence of Fall. No witty quip or rhetorical slogan could ever sum up what it is to be "Autumn." I love the crisp bite in the air; the warm, sun-soaked afternoons and chilly evenings. This is the greatest time of year by far. Everything I love takes place in the Fall. Obviously I'm a nut when it comes to Halloween - the scary decorations, the movies, the Trick-or-Treating, the parties and ABOVE ALL - the costumes... oh...yeah... and my birthday. (That was my poor attempt and being coy) I also love Thanksgiving. The smells associated with Thanksgiving are so comforting and soothing they should be considered a form of therapy. In fact, I believe that if you walk into shrink's office it should always smell of Turkey, Green Bean Casserole and Pumpkin Pie. No other day in the year will share that anticipation for food and celebration... how could you not enjoy a holiday based solely on eating and togetherness? Of course, if you're lucky enough to spend this day with family, you can always look forward to the fight or argument that will inevitably occur - the odds of this happening rise exponentially with the amount of alcohol being consumed - and there is no greater form of entertainment than an inappropriate conflict at the dinner table in front of everyone. Now if you're a football nut like me, then this is your time of year. Don your colors, hone your smack talk, and lose yourself in the battle on the field. I love football. Of course on Thanksgiving you get a double-whammy. If you're not careful, the overwhelming combination of Thanksgiving and Football can be crippling. My suggestion is to turn on the parade in an effort to distract yourself and mellow before you crack. You might want to go with Al Roker... Regis could put you over the edge. And, if you have kids or are just a big kid like me, then you have to see Santa's big finale. The Fall, ironically, brings forth new beginnings as well. The new school year might be the most exciting day in a young person's life... as well as their parents' lives, undoubtedly. It is also the very time of year when the new television line-up occurs. Oh glorious time of year! Thank you for bringing me shows that have nothing to do with B-celebrities embarrassing themselves in an effort to salvage their pathetic careers or using their semi-familiar name to keep enough money in their pockets to keep them from having to actually get a real job. I don't want to see "what's his name" from "that show" dance, sing, lose weight, or ice skate. I want to watch a show with a plot and a thought process. Thank you, Fall, for clogging my DVR with every show I'll never have time to watch. Just seeing them there makes me happy. Every year, just for a few months, in between blistering heat and snow dusted streets we get Fall. We get Pumpkin Spice Lattes and Pumpkin Ice Cream and Pumpkin Pie. We get to be scared and dress up in scary costumes, put out scary decorations, and carve scary faces into pumpkins. We get to put on long-sleeves and bake and go to school and rake leaves and go to the game and give thanks with family. I love Fall.

Blogs From My Past, Part III

This one doesn't really need an explanation.

August 30, 2006 - Wednesday

Rampant Cavities I went to the dentist this morning for my semi-annual cleaning... and while I was sitting in the dentist's chair, waiting for her to come and poke at me, I saw a sign. It had a picture of horrible teeth and a question, "Do you have rampant cavities?" I'm sorry, what was that? RAMPANT cavities? The very idea is terrifying! Think about it... unmonitored cavities... just running wild and free... maybe they'll steal your purse... maybe they'll make your other teeth drink beer and smoke cigarettes... who knows! These aren't normal cavities... they're wild and crazy and getting bigger! I don't know why they feel like they have to use words like rampant to scare the crap out of us (sorry... scare the candy out of us... I'm trying to get my 4-year-old to stop saying crap) to sell the floride treatments... they should be ashamed. Why can't it just say, "do you have multiple cavities?" or something mild... Look Dentists and Hygenists of Amercia, you don't need to scare the candy out of us... we're already afraid of you! You in your rolly chair and your mask and your blinding light of torture. You sit up there with your magnified, judgement filled eyes... leaning us back and lowering our chairs to a state of submission just reaffirming your alpha status. Then, just because you can... you ask us questions and then stick hooks and knives in our mouth so we can't respond... Do you know what that does to a person like me!? It's Hell I tell you, HELL!!! I just sit there trying to talk around your massive mirror that you keep wiping on my cheek... get your own cheek! You giant eyed monster! Of course after we're scrapped and beaten you give us presents of toothpaste,a toothbrush and a cute little dental floss that you can stick in your purse. How can I hate you after you have offered me peace in the form of oral care products? And then the Dentist comes in and she makes the easiest money of her life... she pokes a couple of teeth... pretends like maybe she's counting something and the whole time telling me... "My, you have very pretty teeth... I can't imagine you've had to have much dental work, have you?" I blush, "thank you." I say, "I've had mostly orthodontal work done." (This is a conversation we have every time because she never remembers me...) but how can I hate you after you've showered me with compliments and oohed and aahed over my pearlies? And so I leave... unsure of how to feel... abused or flattered? They spanked me into submission, stuck things in my mouth while I was trying to talk, kept squirting water in my eyes, the sadistic bastards! But then made me feel wonderful and pretty... But I left there feeling pretty damn good. Not because they complimented me or, in all reality the cleaning was pretty uneventful... I left feeling so great because no matter what's going on in my life and I can feel good that I do not have rampant cavities.

Blogs From My Past, Part II

This blog is from costume shopping before my 30th birthday Halloween party. This was a special day for me so I'm copying it over:

October - 2006

It's Better Than 60...

I went to a Halloween Warehouse yesterday with my best friend, Lindsay. She was very stressed out about not yet having the perfect Halloween costume in mind, and like me, was giving in to buying a pre-made costume. We actually did find the perfect costume. A tavern wench, which is basically a short leiderhosen skirt with a petticoat. It's very "St. Paulie Girl" and very cute so she purchased a blonde braided wig to go with it. Up until we found the costume, Lindsay was very distraught and not at all feeling the holiday spirit - pun intended. Finally we spied this very appropriate costume and snatched it from the shelf. It had all of the required elements - it was not frumpy, it had a male counterpart for her husband and it wasn't a fairy. It also had the bonus of being a hostess-esque costume, so assuming it fit it was perfect. Off we were to the dressing room.

For a costume place, they really dropped the ball in the dressing room department. Lindsay was forced to try on the costume in a tall, box-like structure with a torn shower curtain, hanging lazily over the opening. Standing outside of the "dressing room" I have now become the shower curtain as I stretch to pull up the draping corners to keep onlookers from peering at her goodies. Unbeknownst to Lindsay, I'm occasionally dropping the curtain in order to sip from my Latte as I act as a barricade for my naked friend. I finally am asked to assist with the zipper and offer an opinion. It was super and I said so. I really liked it. She was hesitant to exit the dressing room to peak in the mirror, however I explained to her if she couldn't wear it out of a dressing room she wasn't going to be able to wear it in front of 100 of our closest friends.
While I was waiting for Lindsay, a couple came up to try on their costume - a bowling ball and pin that says "spare me" on the front. Not a costume I would have chosen, but I'll admit it got a giggle out of me. Maybe I would have liked it better if the woman was the pin and not the ball. Anway, when Lindsay sprang from the dressing room looking like Gretle after her 21st birthday, they oohed and aahed over how much they liked it. Of course we then ventured on to talk about "The Party." As I said, "well that Saturday is my 30th birthday, so.." I was interrupted... "You're not 30!" The bowling pin said. I looked at his female counterpart and laughed and said, "I think you're required to say that." Technically he was right... I'm not 30.... I'm 29. But at that point it occurred to me... is this what people feel they have to say when they think you're old. I figured the couple was at least in their late 20's if not 30's so I was surprised by his shock at my age. Is turning 30 or any number above 30 kind of like hearing someone weighs over 200 pounds? If someone says to me, "I weigh 220 pounds" and they're not 6ft tall or a man the first thing I'm probably going to say is "You're not 220 pounds! No way." Which basically tells that person that 220 pounds means you're a fat ass and up until this moment I didn't realize you were such a fat ass.

I know that by saying this we think we've offered this fat person some sort of solace. We think we've convinced them that we never really figured they were fat. When actually our act of surprise does more harm than good by letting them know what we really think of their actual weight and how we will look at them from now on. We would actually do less damage if we just said, "oh okay." and left it at that.

So, knowing this, I've become very excited about reaching this personal milestone. If anything it'll give me a chance to make people really uncomfortable when they act so surprised that I'm "so old." But in the grand scheme of things, turning 30 is not a big deal. My mom just turned 60! That crazy kitten! Now try dealing with that one...She told me the other day that they don't even market beauty products to women in their 60's. There are skin regiments for every age group through your 50's... when you turn 60 they stop. They've just decided there is no help for you now and may God be with you. After hearing that - 30's a piece of cake. And as I've said before, who can be upset about having a birthday when you're going to have an awesome party!? 13 days!!! Be ready!

Blogs From My Past

I used to only blog on MySpace... What!? There was a space for it, so I used it. Anyway, there are a couple of blogs on there - 80 in all - and some of them just sort of disappear forever when they get to be too old. You have to know what the dates are to access them. Crazy! So I'm poking through those old blogs and looking for any that I find particularly funny and reposting on here. If you have ever read my blog on MySpace, then I apologize as this will be review for you... but I'm just going to post a few. For fun. So here's the first (warning! Adult content... it is spam after all):

More Work Spam Yay!

Some of you already know from my previous blogs that I deal with a lot of email spam at work. Like around 2,000 spam messages per day... and that is not an exaggeration... in some cases that's undershooting the number. The problem is that I don't get to have a "junk mail" box that I can just dump... I actually have to delete them one by one... well it's not quite that arduous of a task. Really I delete them in groups, but not before I view the subject of each one to verify that it's spam. As a result I'm presented with some very interesting email subjects that I like to share with you fine folks. I mean, honestly, why should this much fun be limited to just one person!? So I've selected a few of my favorites and, of course, have added my commentary to add to their awesomeness...

Here we go:

1) This is a two parter
1a. My new guy's dick is enormous, and my mouth is tiny.
1b. I just started dating a guy I like, but his pecker is on the small side and doesn't really satisfy me.

Comment: First of all - to 1a), what in the hell is anyone supposed to do about the size of your mouth? Do they make pills that make your mouth bigger?? I'm asking because due to the high quantity of emails I view regarding "make your penis bigger pills" I'm just wondering if that's the point here... do you want a bigger mouth or a guy with a teeny peeny? If the later is the case, I have a woman who is complaining about her guys "small pecker" a.k.a. 1b). She has aparantly been brought to us from 1985 where people still use the word pecker... maybe you two could trade. Then her giant vi-jay jay and your small mouth will both be satisfied... after long last. You're welcome.

2.) No more lonely nights! The new era of big pen!s begins!

Comment: Why do I care about big pens? OOOhhh... that's an exclamation point used as an I... that's supposed to say penis! There was an era of the small penis? So this new era is supposed to get you laid? Does this new era do anything about your face?

3.) PHENTERMINE, CODEINE, VALIUM, XANAX, Cheapest Generic Medication, Buy in Bulk and Save! free

Comment: Why am I buying in bulk to save if they're free? What kind of game are you running here!? Serioulsy... I'm confused... do I need to pay for the xanax or should I just buy in bulk?

4.) Women will never complain.

Comment: You may fall for the "big penis" email or the Spamed stock stips, but you don't seriously believe this do you? Does the product show you how to put your socks in the hamper?

6.) Looking for qualitative w4tches? Go to Prest1ge Repl1cas

Comment: Qualitative watches!? Thank Goodness. I've grown so tired of those stupid Quantitative watches. Oh... and by the way... you're spelling with numbers... that's only okay in text messaging or license plates.

7.) It's Berthas Girls Night Out again, how about it?

Comment: Bertha? That's the best name you could come up with? I'm supposed to be interested in what Bertha does on her night out? Is Bertha a farm animal? I think I'll pass.

8.) I was looking for a method to improve my size. By size, I mean overall length and width of my penis

Comment: Wow... well that went from vague to incredibly specific. If you were so ready to go there, then why didn't you just start there? Why not just come out the gate being specific? Why do you have to be such a penis enlarging tease?

9.) Most popular online apothecary.

Comment: Somebody got their Translating English for Creatively wording Spam word of the Day Calendar.

10.) Games save lives

Comments: How? By keeping all the fat kids too slow to jump out of the way of your car that you're driving under the influence of bulk perscription drugs in the house?

11.) I fill her whole mouth now.

Comment: Oh wait, Dude... I don't know how to tell you this, but she totally doesn't like it. Apparently she's now unhappy with her tiny mouth... you might want to lay off the penis enlargement and talk to her...

12.) 94% of women agree a larger penis is a visual turn-on

Comment: What women were polled for this survey? Did they used to be men? Because no woman finds a penis to be a visual turn-on... I don't care how big it is. Penises are not attractive at any size. I think you'll find that 94% of women find abs to be a visual turn-on... maybe larger wallets... but not penises.

13.) Free games for Kids

Comment: Gee, thanks Mr. Pedophile! You're not going to make me wear that outfit again, are you? I guess I shouldn't complain... by giving free games, you are apparently saving lives.

Okay - that's all I have for today... See all the fun you could be having with your Spam? You should definitley think twice before emptying your bulk folder. How else will Bertha get a hold of you?