Here, kvetch!

The last coupla days, I've had about as much energy and giddy-up as a 3 toed sloth. And I've had a hankering for the white cake with buttercream icing that my local Stater Bros supermarket sells by the slice. And I'm getting my panties in a twist over a rule change for work points in the racing series I'm involved in. What this all means is that Auntie Flo from Redlands should be arriving any day now via the Red Ball Express and the Crimson Tide is rolling in. How many more euphemisms can I use to say that I've got a raging case of PMS?

I suppose I should be thankful that I haven't started menopause yet but every time I hear that commercial where they tell you to "Have a Happy Period" I want to pop a cap into whoever came up with that slogan. The only time someone should be happy to get their period is when it shows up after having drunken unprotected sex with some random nameless hook-up. You know the fucknuckle who came up with THAT slogan is a man who has NEVER experienced the cramps, bloating, 'roid-like rage and all the other fun stuff that comes with it. It's not called, "The Curse" because it makes women feel happy. Unless of course it comes after having the unprotected drunken sex in which case we aren't so much as "happy" as we are thinking, "Oh, thank GOD I'm not knocked up!"

So. Anyways. Today is the anniversary of 9-11. A day that will live on in infamy. Just like when JFK was shot and when Michael Jackson died, everyone remembers where they were on September 11, 2001. I was sound asleep in bed when the phone rang. A friend was babbling that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center so I got up and turned on the TV, just in time to see the second jetliner hit. I was glued to the TV, watching in horror as people started jumping to their deaths instead of waiting to burn to death when they realized they weren't getting out alive. I'm getting goosebumps just remembering.

One of the things that made the most impression on me during that awful time was when all flights were grounded. Living in the flight path of LAX, Long Beach airport and the military air station in Los Alamitos, I'm used to hearing every aircraft from small private planes to helicopters to 747's to F-18's. The silence was deafening.

Eight years later, I just noticed that I haven't heard any aircraft for the last couple of hours. I don't know if this is because there just aren't any flights at the moment heading into Long Beach which is a FABULOUS airport to fly in and out of by the way or if I just tune them out or what. It just seems kind of weird I don't hear any of the billion JetBlue flights that fly past my house daily. Huh. Odd.

Ok, I gotta go get some Stater Bros supermarket white cake with buttercream icing.

God Bless America!

Fun (or Not) With Facebook

Like a jillion other people, I too have signed up with Facebook. Which is supposed to be the adult version of MySpace. It's cool, I've been able to keep in touch with relatives who I'm only able to see once a year (if that) and I've found friends I haven't talked to or heard from since high school. In fact, shortly after I included this picture on an earlier blog post:

My date from that photo contacted me via Facebook. What a co-inky-dink! Hey! I have an idea! If I post a photo of George Parros would I get a Facebook Friend request from him? Let's find out, shall we? Cuz I love me some George!

So anyways, Facebook is nice. But I just don't get all the games and chain-mail type of crap that I'm constantly being flooded with. This week alone, I've received the following:
- "Are You a Vampire of Werewolf?" Neither. I'm annoyed.
- "Kiss the one you wouldn't mind snoging (sic)" Hello? It's spelled "snogging." With double G's. Rhymes with "blogging."
- "Someone sent you A Blue Rose." What the hell is a Blue Rose and why is it Blue and not Red or Pink or any of the other natural rose colors?
- "Someone sent you a Mommie Award." So, what's my award? It better be my very own Arcade Skee-ball game complete with prize tickets or I'm gonna be pissed.
- "Someone sent you a Supreme Gagball Deluxe!" Ok, is this a passive/aggressive way of telling me I have a big mouth and it needs to be gagged? Bite me.
- "Someone sent you a Mygift2U" Ok, if there's one thing I hate it's "text speak." Especially when it's not in a text. So Stop It. C U L8tr.
- "Someone sent you a Jack & Coke!" I don't drink Jack & Coke in the 3D world and I'm not going to start in the internet world.
- "Someone sent you a hug and a kiss!" Aw, how nice. Now stop.
- "What beer are you?" What, do I LOOK like I'm shaped like a bottle or can? Are you trying to tell me I'm all hopped up? Get it? "Hopped up" because there's hops in beer? Never mind.

And each of these application requests demands that you then forward them on to 10 to 25 of your Facebook friends! What, has Facebook become one giant chain letter? I hate chain letters of any kind and refuse to forward them on. I forward them straight to the trash. Yes people, I'm the Chainbreaker! I'm the reason the world has such bad luck because I. BROKE. THE. CHAIN!

And what's with all the games? Until I figured out how to block the applications, my profile page was nothing but people going on and on about Farmville, Yoville, Whoville, What EVERville. I get people asking me to join their teams for Fashion Wars, Mafia Wars, Star Wars. Play this game, play that game, join this team, farm, family, village.

But the best, really, had to be when someone sent this to me "So-and-so is a fan of Sarah Palin! Why don't you become a fan of Sarah Palin, too!" Ok, last night TheManTheMyth was watching a History Channel show about Nostradamus and his prediction of the third Anti-Christ but nobody knows who the third Anti-Christ is. Well, I do. It's Sarah Palin. Seriously. And I value my soul way too much to become Facebook Friends with the Anti-Christ.

So George? Friend me, baby! I promise I won't forward any of those stupid applications to you.

Kthxbye!

Bong Hits for Jesus

Don't know if you've been paying attention but today was the President's Evil Indoctrination Speech. You know, the one that was "allegedly" about education and staying in school instead of dropping out to become the next contestant on "Rock of Love" but was actually a subliminal message to convert our nation's children to Commie Pinko Socialism. For those of you who aren't sure, there is a hefty dose of sarcasm in the above sentences.

I'm still aghast and my flabber is more than gasted at the hysterical hysterics of people over this speech. My local news station (KTLA Morning News...LOVE Them!) showed a clip of some Anne Coulter look-alike, complete with the stringy over bleached hair and thick, black smeared eyeliner that makes her look like a tweaker stripper. Which is what she probably is and explains her insane and psychotic rantings. Anyway, the newsclip shows this woman clutching her face like she was the model for Edvard Munch's "The Scream" and sobbing hysterically because her children were in danger of being indoctrinated! Seriously, that's the word she used. TheManTheMyth and I looked at each other in utter disbelief and he said, "with a mother like that, she's gonna have some fucked up kids." Ya think?

So I watch the speech. And waited and waited for the subliminal message. I don't know what I was expecting, maybe a hot dog and soda dancing across the screen, planting the idea to go to the snack bar. But waddya know, there WASN'T anything controversial or dangerous in that speech. No subliminal messages, not even if you played the speech backwards. Not even a "Paul is Dead" was snuck in there.

Of course you can't argue with extremists any more than you can argue with a drunk and try to make them see reason. Believe me, I know. It cannot be done. And these people all believe the Gospel according to that fat drug addict Rush Limbaugh and will continue to wave their pitchforks and torches to prevent their children from being "indoctrinated." God forbid their children be exposed to different views. That must not happen in public school!

I found out this morning, via a Twitter (Tweet?) from the local Seal Beach rag of all places, that my kids school district refused to show the speech live. Instead, the teachers and administrators would tape the speech and after review, would decide if it was appropriate to be shown to the students.

Los Alamitos School District should be very happy I don't come over there and bitchslap them for deciding that a speech from the President of the United States that is aimed at promoting education must be censored from the students. Am I the only one who sees the irony (the opposite of wrinkly) here? You'd think this HAD to be a joke! But, sadly, it's not.

Cheezus Christ on a Cracker, these people need Bong Hits for Jesus.

Or an enema.

The trails are alive with the sound of music

Now that the offspring are back in school, my walking schedule has been altered. Before, I would arrive at the Nature Center for my walk anywhere between 8 and 8:30am. But with the school schedule, I knew that I would be leaving the house by 7:15 in order to get Thing 2 to school on time but I figured I'd slow down to 5 MPH, tell Thing 2 to "tuck and roll!" as she was flung out of the car and I'd head on to the park from there.

That was the plan. But here's the thing, Nature Center doesn't open until 8:00am. The distance between there and the school drop-off zone is a whopping three minutes. I'm at the park at 7:30am. I can't go home and then go back because I'm already 1,000 miles over on my stupid car than I should be for this time. I'm still flabbergasted that I drive well over 1,000 miles a month especially since I don't work. Good thing I didn't get the 10,000 miles a year lease or I'd REALLY be screwed. Anyway, at first I figured I'd just sit at the park and read a book until the gates open. But yesterday, I said to myself, "Self, this is stupid. You're at a park with a walking/bike path, get off your ass and walk a loop and THEN do your Nature Center walk! Jeez, how lazy can you get Miss 'I'll just sit on my ass and read for 1/2 and hour'. I don't think so, girlfriend!"

So to make a long story short (too late!) I walked a loop around the park first and then did my usual Nature Center walk. And lemme tell you, walking at the park is a snooze and a half. No critters, no challenging terrain, just a flat concrete path. So today I had the idea of bringing my iPod with me and listening to music to make the park walk not so boring. Brilliant, eh? It really did make the walk much better, so much better that I continued to listen to music as I walked at the Nature Center. For some reason, listening to music made me kick it up a notch so that instead of just walking, I was Power Walking! Yay, me!

I hit "random" and this is what came up:

"The Jean Genie" by David Bowie. Memories of a Hernandez Christmas Party and pogo-ing to this song.

"Rock Bottom" by UFO. I can't hear this song without thinking of high school. There was a local band called "Five O'Clock Shadow" that used to play covers of UFO songs and my friend Angie was kind of seeing the lead singer so we'd go and see them play. They had a cute drummer, too.

"Handlebars" by Flobots. Love this song. Love. It.

"Reach for the Sky" by Social Distortion. Several years ago, we went and saw Social D at the Anaheim House of Blues. Concert was great, experience was awful because TheManTheMyth over-indulged (to put it mildly) and completely ruined the night. Every time I hear this song, I get pissed off all over again. But it's still a great song.

"Fever" by Miss Peggy Lee. If I was to ever do karaoke (and trust me, I won't and you should thank me profusely for that), this is the song I would choose. No particular reason.

"The Beautiful People" by Marilyn Manson. Best tribal drum beat ever.

"Because I Got High" by Afroman. I'm sure I was getting strange looks because this song always makes me laugh out loud. For reals.

"Jive Talkin" by the BeeGees. I had a hard time keeping from dancing while I was walking.

"Paradise by the Dashboard Light" by Meatloaf. Let me sleep on it, baby baby, let me sleep on it.

"Ripple" by Jane's Addiction. A great cover of the Grateful Dead song and it was the perfect "cool down" song when I finished my walk.

So now I will always listen to music while I'm walking because it makes my walking better and it's fun for the people coming up behind me and trying to pass me and I'm completely unaware because I'm too busy rocking out to notice that I'M the one blocking their way.

They should just be grateful I'm not singing out loud. Because trust me, that is something that NOBODY should ever be subjected to.

Well, THAT was a bust!

I'm STILL trying to find a bra that a) fits and b) doesn't feel like a torture device that will make me confess to shenanigans nobody needs to know about. "Ve haf vays of making you talk!" So on the advice of 2 of the 3 or so non-family members that actually read my blog (and comment!), I decided to give Frederick's of Hollywood a try. This should have been a no-brainer as Freddy's of H'wood has been providing lingerie for the large breasted woman for decades.

So off I go to one of the few malls in my neck of the woods that has a FofH and since I have no idea which end of the mall the store is located, it makes sense that I would park at the complete opposite end and have to hoof it the entire length of the mall.

I find the store and notice they do indeed have a nice selection of bras that aren't the trashy red satin bra with black lace that comes to mind when someone says "Frederick's of Hollywood." The helpful clerk asks me what I'm looking for and I tell her. And guess what? They don't carry my size. They either have the right band size but not cup size or they have the cup size but not the band size. PHAIL! Frederick's of Hollywood is a bust. I want to weep.

I dejectedly plodded back down the length of the mall (racking up those 10,000 steps!) and decide to give Macy's another shot. The last time I went to Macy's, I was trying on the wrong size so now that I knew my real size, maybe I'd have better luck.

Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit, I found some bras that a) actually fit properly and by properly I mean that people better not get too close or they'll get an eye poked out because the F-Troops are standing at attention! and b) don't feel like a torture device that will make me confess to shenanigans that nobody needs to know about.

And the best part is, I got 2 bras for the same price that I paid for 1 of the torture devices so Ha! I win! Take THAT you ridiculously over-priced uncomfortable LeMystere bras! I smite you!

Everything Old is New Again

Ok, back in 1977, Vans deck shoes were THE shoe to wear. I was a huge fan of the Z-Boys of Dogtown (Stacy Peralta = HOT!) and the Surf/Skate look was the look I chose:

In the winter, the standard uniform was Levi's Original Shrink to Fit Button Fly 501s worn with a long sleeve t-shirt from Harbour Surfboards in Seal Beach. To complete The Look, Navy blue or Baby blue Vans were de rigueur.

Then Vans came out with the 2-toned shoe in a Blue/Red combo

(which, when you think about it, are nothing more than canvas saddle shoes but let's not think about it, 'kay?) and all the cool kids wore them. But some of us took it a step further. We'd go down to our local House of Vans and custom order our shoes in whatever color combo we wanted. And to take it even more further, we'd order the left shoe to have the opposite color combo than the right shoe. How Crazy Cool is THAT?!?!

Styles changed, as they tend to do, and while the classic deck shoe has never gone out of style, the 2-tone shoe became "uncool" and everyone switched to the "Old Skool" skate shoe

Flash forward 32 years later. That's right, I said THIRTY TWO YEARS. Today I took Thing 1 to the local House of Vans store (It's no longer called "House of Vans" but that's what *I* call it) to buy him a pair of the classic Navy Blue Deck Shoe. Something caught my eye. I gasped in delight and a tear came to my eye.

There on the shelf, I saw MY shoes:


That was the exact color combo for each shoe I custom ordered back in 1977, Thirty Two (32!) years ago.

I must go back and buy MY shoes and I will wear them with a pair of Levi 501s and a long sleeve Harbour Surfboards shirt and I will pretend it's 1977 when life was all about going to the beach (20th Street in Huntington Beach) and going to the next party.

I need a tis-sue.

Udder frustration

Ok, so I had my Professional Bra fitting the other day and purchased 3 new bras that were Professionally fitted for my gigantic honkers. Yes, they were very expensive but they put things in the proper place so handing over my Amex wasn't that difficult and I headed home all hap-hap-happy that I *finally* have some good, well-engineered bras that *seemed* to be comfortable in the dressing room.

The Good News is, I look great! These bras are a marvel of engineering. They lift and support and are actually pretty for something so...so HUGE. The Bad News? I hate these new bras. Hate. Them. Wearing a bra in the dressing room for 1 minute does not give you an indication of how they will feel when you wear them going about your business all day. The underwire turned into a painful vice, the edges of the cups are digging into my underarms, the boning on the sides digs into both my side and my arm right at a nerve so my arms keep going numb, the stitching feels like it was sewn with fishing line and I swear there is sandpaper on the band. They are so flipping uncomfortable after wearing them for an hour that I want to scream.

Unfortunately, in a fit of optimism, I tossed all my old bras as soon as I got home with the new bras so I'm kind of screwed.

So I will have to continue in my quest for proper and COMFORTABLE support for the F-Troops, as TheManTheMyth now refers to me and my boobs.

And they say romance is dead.

Oh, yesterday we, my sister Bippy and I, took Thing 2 shopping for bras and despite the hilarity that ensued and had people outside the dressing rooms laughing when we came out, I promised her that I would not blog about it so I'm not. Besides, you really had to be there.

And speaking of Big Boobs and Celebrity Sightings, I saw retired porn star Jenna Jameson while we were shopping. I wanted to smack that bitch down. Why, you ask? I'll tell you why. Girlfriend is tiny. She made Thing 2 (5'6, 95lbs) look like an Amazon. And she recently gave birth to twins. THAT'S why I wanted to bust her ass. And I have no idea why I'm talking like I'm straight outta Compton. Must be that torture device I'm wearing that's affecting my brain.