So yesterday was Easter and being as non-religious as all get out, we had a big ol' family frolic at my seester Bippy's house. There was food galore, massive amounts of alcohol, mostly drunk by my BIL Gaga and his sidekick Sandy, aka, The Creeper" on account he was creeping out Thing 1's girlfriend (but in a funny, dirty old man kind of way) and making highly inappropriate yet hilarious jokes and comments. Niece Erika made a surprise visit from her home in Reno and we also celebrated young cousin (1st cousin once removed? 2nd cousin? She's young so we just called her "Niece") Leslie's 20th birthday.
The kids also had an Easter Egg hunt, with Thing 2's Competitive Nature kicking in and there may have been some pushing and shoving and cries of "Hey, Not Fair!"
The highlight of our get together was the Thrilling Egg Toss. The teams lined up facing each other and the tossing of the eggs commenced. Yes, we tossed hard boiled eggs because really, who wants to be splattered with gooey raw egg? But did you know that if you toss a peeled hard boiled egg, it has a tendency to disintegrate in mid air, usually right above face level so that you get splattered with bits and pieces of egg? Yeah, found that out the hard way, I did.
Unfortunately, in the midst of all the hilarity of the day, there were tears and cursing and wailing and tearing of hair and rending of garments.
I didn't MEAN to be a Debbie Downer but my hockey team, the Anaheim Ducks, were eliminated in the NHL playoffs right before my very eyes.
Of COURSE I was watching hockey on Easter.
Doesn't everybody?
Jesus would have totally understood.
After all, He Saves.
Today is a very special day.
Do you know WHY today is a very special day?
I posed this question to my Angel of the Morning this morning and guess what her reply was?
"It's too frickin' early to play stupid guessing games, MOTHER."
Such a JOY she is in the morning, I tell you.
You're probably thinking that the answer to the question is "It's Earth Day!" or even "It's Good Friday!" both of which are good and technically correct answers neither has anything to do with WHY this is such a special day.
I'll give you a hint:
Yep. 22 years ago today, TheManTheMyth's Carefree Life as a Bachelor came to a screeching halt.
And he still hasn't recovered. If fact, if I want to see him cringe and wince, all I have to do is remind him that we've been married TWENTY TWO YEARS. And I say it in a Very Dramatic and Ominous Voice.
It's fun to do that.
Being the Non-Romantics that we are, we'll be celebrating our TWENTY TWO YEAR anniversary the same way we celebrate Valentine's Day. And by that, I mean we Don't. Aren't. Whatever.
I don't need a fancy gift or flowers from TheManTheMyth to know how much he loves me.
I KNOW he loves me; I tell him so every day. I say, "You Love me!" and he recites back, "Yes dear" in a robotic voice.
See? There's the proof RIGHT THERE.
I had no idea when I went to a friend's birthday party 24 years ago that I would be pestered all night long by some guy who just would NOT leave me alone. He even threw himself at my feet so he could be in a picture:
I finally had to leave the party to get away from him. About 2 weeks later, my sister tells me, "Keith wants to ask you out." My answer? "Who the hell is Keith?"
Once I figured out who she was talking about, I wasn't particularly interested because I had just come out of a long term relationship and really didn't want to date anyone. My sister tells me, "Just have dinner with him, it's not like you're going to MARRY him."
SUCKER!
Thing 2, my darling daughter Thing 2, is many things. She is beautiful, intelligent, clever, compassionate, affectionate, a natural athlete (which is her brother is Not and don't think she doesn't remind him of that) and she's one of the funniest people she knows. Just ask her.
But there's one thing she is Not. She is not a Morning Person.
This is someone who, if left undisturbed, would sleep until the afternoon. She loves her some sleep and actually refers to herself as a "Professional Sleeper."
So you can imagine how much fun it is around here on weekday mornings when she has to be awoken at the ungodly hour of 6:45am.
Oh, the Horror.
Seriously, it's like trying to rouse a vampire in the daylight. There's the hiss and recoil as the light hits her and I half expect to see her skin blister and peel and her feet and legs roll up and slide back under the house.
Oh. Wait.
That's for the Wicked Witch of the East.
My bad.
When she emerges from The Cave, she is wrapped from head to toe in a heavy blanket. Her face is hidden by the folds of the blanket. She stumbles down the hall towards the living room, turning off lights as she goes.
Breakfast is eaten in silence as she is incapable of forming words, let alone sentences. Any attempts at conversation on my part is met with growls, scowls and grunts.
This morning while she was eating her Eggos, I was commenting on something of no particular importance because I have been known to babble now and then and she puts down her fork, turns to me and says,
"You're really chatty this morning. STOP. IT."
So being the kind, caring Mom that I am, a Mom who understands her daughter's desire for peace and quiet in the morning, I kick it up a notch and start babbling about anything and everything, just so I can watch her irritation levels rise to Def Con levels.
The drive to school was also a barrel of laughs as I continued to babble and she continued to seethe and say things such as, "Why are you doing this? You know I'm not a Morning Person. God!"
As she exits the car, I call out, "Have a Nice Day!" and while she didn't flip me off, I could tell she was considering it as she stalked off.
That's my little Angel of the Morning.
Okay, I have a Twitter account, @AnotherKelly. I've had it for, I dunno, maybe 2 years.
Hang on, lemme check. Oh. March of 2009. So yeah, 2 years.
ANYWAY.
I rarely tweet (twit? chirp?) and I don't know all the lingo and and I don't follow trending topics or chitchat back and forth with people.
In other words, I'm not one of the Cool Twitter peeps.
But I'm okay with that.
Lately, I've been puzzled (what else is new?) because I keep getting notices from The Twitter that So-and-So is now following me on Twitter. But here's the kicker: they are all church-related.
And I'm thinking to myself, Do these people/groups even READ what I tweet? Because I use The Profanity. A lot. Mostly the Eff Word but sometimes I also take the Lord's Name in Vain. So where in the Sam Hill would they get the idea that we share similar interests?
Let's see, have I expressed an interest in going to India as an evangelical Christian Missionary to save the souls of the heathens?
That would be No.
Am I interested in Bible Study as a member of faith-based organization?
That would be No.
Am I even part of a faith-based organization?
That would be No.
Am I even a Christian?
That would be No.
You can see my confusion as to why religious (read: Christian) groups want to follow me on The Twitter.
So after the latest notification, I decided that maybe I should take a look at my Twitter page and see what the hell is going on.
Oh. It's my Bio description.
Cheezus, you throw the words, "Baby Jesus" in your bio and these church groups think it's an open invitation.
Did they not read the entire sentence?
I'm make Him cry, Goddammit!
God only knows what these groups would think if they saw what I post on The Facebook.
I don't think they'd be sending me any "friend" requests.
I'm so going to hell in a bucket on a bobsled.
There are these trees at my park that are kind of scraggly-looking. I have no idea what kind of trees these are. They don't get much in the way of lush leaves but every spring, they bloom with the most beautiful blossoms that have the most heavenly scent. Oh, I love those blossoms. I'll pick up a sprig of the fallen blossoms and just inhale the scent.
I have to be careful when I do this, though, because the bees like these blossoms just as much as I do. And the last thing I want is to snort a bee up my nose.
Because that would hurt.
And it would be trashy.
*
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TheManTheMyth has been gone all week, working out of town, and while I miss him, it's been kind of nice not being rudely shoved in the middle of the night with ridiculous accusations that I'm snoring and to please turn over.
I totally deny these accusations. *I* do not snore.
Usually when TMTM gives me a shove, I mutter "Sorry" as I roll over to my other side even though I have nothing to be sorry about because I DON'T SNORE.
So the other night, I'm deep in Dreamland when I feel a shove. I mumble an apology and turn over.
Then I wake up enough to realize that it's not TMTM who is doing the shoving.
It's Gracie Lou.
Swell.
Even my dog thinks I snore.
WHICH I DO NOT.
When I woke up this morning, my throat was sore. It felt kind of dried out and scratchy.
I must be coming down with a cold or something.
That's the only logical explanation.
*
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I'm still continuing my research on what my next car is going to be. The lease on my Saturn Vue with the Crappy Gas Mileage is up shortly and obviously I'm going to choose a car that gets much better mileage than 16MPG City.
So I've been test driving various cars and have narrowed it down to 3, all in the same price range.
Recently, someone picked up the brochure of one of the cars that was sitting on my desk and asked if I was getting that car. I said I was considering it. Their reply was that they thought it was, get this, "Too nice a car for you."
Ex squeeze me?
Baking powder?
A mid-size sedan by a Korean auto maker (you do the math) is "too nice of a car for me?"
Really.
Gee, thanks. A LOT.
I guess I'm puttin' on airs and a Yugo is more fittin' for the likes of me.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go and snort a bee up my nose.
I don't know about you but I'm always hearing horror stories about people getting group e-mails, usually business-related and they make a snarky comment about one of the recipients, usually the boss, and they think they sent it only to the sender but find out that they hit the "reply all" button and all hell breaks loose.
Now I may not be a rocket scientist and I don't have a college ejamacation but I CAN read and I DO know the difference between "reply" and "reply ALL." It's pretty easy, actually. One of the choices has the word "ALL" and the other Does Not.
If you want to reply ONLY to the sender of the e-mail, choose "reply." This way, your comment about how The Boss is such a knuckle dragger and is only one step above Neanderthal and it's a miracle he can walk and chew gum at the same time due to his family tree not having any branches and his gene pool lacking a deep end goes ONLY to the person you intended it to go to and not the whole department. Including The Neanderthal Knuckledragging Person Who Signs the Paychecks.
Now me, I have the opposite problem. I frequently received group e-mails that require the "reply ALL" choice and I find myself replying only to the sender instead of ALL.. And then the rest of the group gets denied my Pearls of Wisdom regarding whatever matter is being discussed and debated and then the rest of the group is left to flounder helplessly and aimlessly until I re-send my reply to everyone else and then they all breathe a sigh of relief when they get my reply and they'll nod to themselves and think, "Thank GOD for Kelly!"
Okay, they don't.
But they SHOULD.
You can tell just by looking at my 3rd (or was it 4th? I think it was 4th.) grade picture with my Campfire Girl Honor Bead choker that I would NEVER accidentally hit the "Reply All" button by mistake.
I'd lose an Honor Bead.
You know how I said I was giving up cussing for Lent?
Yeah, well, fuck that shit.
I know, I know. Cussing is bad but ya know, sometimes "Oh, poo!" or "Gosh darn it!" just doesn't bring the satisfaction that you get with a good old fashioned truck driver meets drunken sailor meets gangbanger round of expletives.
Like when your husband goes to start his truck up so that he can get on the road to do a job 600+ miles away and the truck does not start. And it's not going to start so he has to take Thing 1's Red Rocket which isn't the best running vehicle in our tiny stable of vehicles and the odds of THAT breaking down are astronomical and then you get to listen to Thing 1 whine about how he doesn't have a car now and what's HE supposed to do.
And when you call Auto Club to have it towed to the diesel repair place and emphasize that this is a BIG TRUCK and they assure you that your Triple A membership covers it.
And then the tow truck shows up and the driver says, "Yeah, no. Trucks of this size aren't covered" and he tells you that it will be at least $300 to tow the Big Truck because they have to get the heavy-duty monster tow truck and when you ask why Triple A said it was covered they tell you that Triple A is Wrong.
And you call Triple A back to demand answers and they tell you that it's the towing company's fault and then the towing company and Triple A continue to blame each other while you're standing there getting more and more pissed every minute.
And then this morning, your WHITE dog, who is so lucky she's cute and sweet because she's never going to win any prizes in the Intelligence Category despite being a mix of the two smartest breeds, goes to jump into the back seat of your car and completely misses and lands with a giant splash in the gutter that is full of muddy, icky water.
Add someone publicly accusing me of being "more than useless" at the job I'm doing and not a single one of the 450+ people I handle coming to my defense although several of them did e-mail me to tell me I'm doing an awesome job but yeah, thanks for sticking up for me.
So the above, among other things, is why the whole "Give up cussing for Lent" idea was totally shitcanned.
But other than that, Mrs. Kennedy, how was Dallas?
