Schools Suck!

This whole thing with the teachers being on strike, and parents getting $40 a day for children under the age of 13 is total BS. Teachers chose the job they have. If you don't like the way you are treated, or what you do or do not get, then change careers! Are teachers a daycare center? NO! So why are we paying our parents? I get that some have to pay for daycare, and have to pay extra for it. That isn't my problem! So why do I, my husband, and every other tax payer have to pay for those kids to go to daycare?
Complete crap! The highschool students get the short end of that stick don't they? They don't get any support for not being allowed to go to school. The parents of handicapped students over the age of 13, they have to pay for extra care, are they going to get it? Are the highschool students going to have to make up the time that the teachers decide to take away from them? The students AGAIN ARE THE ONES BEING PUNISHED! They all claim that they "Are doing what is in the best interest of the children" No they aren't!! They are doing what is in their own best interest. This is no longer about the kids, this is being completely selfish now. *shakes Head* <end rant>

Inspired Me

I came across an article that a friend of mine had posted on a site and with all the talk about people and their weight, or their size going around, seemingly more now than usual, or it is just me that has noticed it more I became inspired to write my own outlook on it, with a few quips and quotes from the article I read.

Let me start with, I am not a small woman, I am big and beautiful and proud of who I am. I have to deal with the leers and looks and whispers that cross my path, the ones that people don't realize cut you to the bone, and make you feel a little less worthy. Now, I never said I am proud of how big I am, I said I am proud of WHO I am. I like me! I like my attitude, my ability to look past peoples appearances and get to know the real person inside. I like the fact that I am not afraid to love, or make new friends, to be funny and be able to make fun of myself when I choose to.

Now with that being said, there are so many people out there that chose to judge someone on their size and or appearance, they "see" someone through eyes that have been clouded and adjusted by what "society" has deemed to be "acceptable".

What is the definition of Acceptable? Well, as far as I know it means to be "capable or worthy of being accepted". I like to think I am both capable and worthy. I am worthy of a good man's love, I am worthy of being alive, I am worthy of breathing the same air, and smiling at a sunrise. I AM WORTHY! I am capable of getting myself up in the morning, of being able to dance, and sing, of being able to bend and move and twist and I am capable of being able to move to pet all the cute dogs that cross my path. I am capable of holding open doors for frail old ladies and carry my bags of groceries home.

Just because I am a big person, does not make me any less than anyone else. I am proud of WHO I am! I think we should all be proud of who we are. I feel bad for people who can only see my body’s shape rather than its potential, because my body is amazing.


Be proud of WHO you are and remember, we are all only human.

Final 2013 Rant

Well, this will be my last rant for 2013.
Hopefully one day, people on in a "Chat room" won't have to be all high and mighty with others, if you don't like someone I talk to, then that is your issue not mine.
If you choose to not like me cause of someone I choose to talk to, then again YOUR ISSUE! NOT MINE! Take your pettiness somewhere else. Leave me the hell out of it. I don't need shallow people in my life, I work hard to keep them out as it is.
So again, If YOU don't like someone, good on ya! If YOU decide you want to rant at me cause I talk to them, or have them on my friends list, then YOU will find yourself either deleted or or ignored. I am sick and tired of the BS that goes on, and the "Almighty, Higher than Thou" attitudes.
I am not part of a clique, I am friendly to almost everyone. Are there people I don't care for on here? Sure there is, but with that being said, I would bet that most of you wouldn't be able to tell who they are.
So, with that, Happy New Year, and may you all be safe, and remember ....... we all bleed red

Three Nuns :P

Three Italian nuns die and go to heaven.

At the Pearly Gates, they are met by St. Peter. He says, "Sisters, you all Led such exemplary lives that the Lord is granting you six months to go Back to earth and be anyone you wish to be

The first nun says, "I want to be Sophia Loren;"

And *poof* she's gone.

The second says, "I want to be Madonna and *poof* she's gone.

The third says, "I want to be Sara Pipalini.."

St. Peter looks perplexed. "Who?" he ask

"Sara Pipalini," replies the nun.

St. Peter shakes his head and says, "I'm sorry, but that name just doesn't Ring a bell."

The nun then takes a newspaper out of her habit and hands it to St. Peter.
St. Peter reads the paper and starts laughing.
He hands it back to her and Says.

No sister, the paper says it was the ' Sahara Pipeline' that was laid by 1,400 men in 6 months."


If you laugh, you're going straight to hell! I am going to hell

Merry Christmas

I have noticed over the last little while that during this holiday season, people seem to be merrier, happier, more into giving, less into recieving, and over all much more polite and thoughtful. I am very glad to see the "Human side" of people in and around our community. I just have one question, Why is it that people can only be like this one time of the year? Why can't be an everyday occurance." If we just put a little more effort into looking for the good side of things, and less into the negative of every day life, could we not make this world a better place?
So my wish this Christmas, is that people all over the world, will make a daily effort to find something postive in their lives each and every day
Merry Christmas to you all, and May you all have a safe and Happy New Year

Words for Teenagers

Best thing I ever read and have it posted on my fridge:
We always hear the cry from teenagers, what can we do, where can we go? My answer is this, GO HOME! Mow the lawn, wash the windows, learn to cook, build a raft, get a job, visit the sick, study your lessons, and after your have finished, read a book. You town does not owe you recreational facilities and your parents do not owe you fun. The world does not owe you a living, you the world something. You owe it your time, energy, and talent so no one will be at war, sickness and lonely again. In other words grow up! Stop being a cry baby, get out of your dream world and develop a backbone and not a wishbone. Start behaving like a responsible person. You ARE important and you are needed. It‘s too late to sit around and wait for somebody to do something someday. Someday is now and that somebody is You!

Me shammered!

For those of you who wanted to see me drunk, here you go!
www.facebook.com/#!/photo.php?v=2181708321109&set=vb.1798998201&type=3&theater

NEVER WAX YOUR HOO-HA

NEVER WAX YOUR HOO-HA


All hair removal methods have tricked women with their promises of easy, painless removal - The Epilady, scissors, razors, Nair and now...the wax. Read on......

My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours: Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine
cabinet.
So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom. It was one of those cold wax kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off.

No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out. (YA THINK!?!)

So I pull one of the thin strips out. It's two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. (Cold wax yeah...right!) I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works!

OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this!
Hair removal no longer eludes me!

I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire.

With my next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet.

Using the same procedure, I apply the wax strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my hoo-ha and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek (it was a long strip). I inhale deeply and brace myself....RRRRIIIPPP!!!!

I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!!....OH MY GAWD!!!!!!!!!

Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the strip.
CRAP! Another deep breath and RIPPPPP! Everything is spinning and spotted.

I think I may pass out.....must stay conscious...must stay conscious. Do I hear crashing drums??? Breathe, breathe...OK, back to normal.

I want to see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair.

I hold up the strip!

There's no hair on it.
Where is the hair??? WHERE IS THE WAX???

Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip...it's not! I touch. I am touching wax.
I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair. Then I make the next BIG mistake... remember my foot is still propped upon the toilet? I know I need to do something.
So I put my foot down.

Sealed shut! My butt is sealed shut. Sealed shut!

I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself, Please don't let me get the urge to poop. My head may pop off! What can I do to melt the wax?

Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!! I'll run the hottest water I can stand, into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right??? *WRONG!!!!!!!*

I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture Prisoners Of War or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit.

Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together, is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub....in scalding hot water...
Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax.

So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cemented myself to the porcelain!! God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!


I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It's a very good conversation starter... So, my butt and hoo-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!
There is a slight pause. She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me.

She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, Are we talking cheeks or hoo-ha?
She's laughing out loud by now ... I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box.

YEAH!!!!! Right!! I should be the joke of someone else's night.

While we go through various solutions, I resort to trying to scrape the wax off with a razor. Nothing feels better than to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!! By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I';m pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event.

My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace....the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax.

What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on and OH MY GOD!!!!!!!
The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend.
It's sooo painful, but I really don't care.

IT WORKS!!

It works!! I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up. I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair... THE HAIR IS STILL THERE.......ALL OF IT! So I recklessly
shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts. I could have amputated my own leg at this point.

Next week I'm going to try hair color.....

When you Remember Me

When You Remember Me

When you remember me
Think of flowers blowing in the wind
Think of the sound of the birds singing in the trees
Think of the beauty of the ocean as it crashes to the shore
Think of grass blowing in the breeze
And remember I am free

When you remember me
Think of the times we laughed and cried together
Think of the stories we once told
Think of the stories yet untold
Think of the child you held or may hold in your arms
And remember I am free

When you think of the hurt
And you think of the pain
Think, these are things I once felt
But the hand that you lent
And the love that you gave
Helped to push it all away

So when you see a bird fly by
Please stop and remember .....
I am Finally Free!

Celia Genik, 1989

Oatmeal Kisses

Oatmeal Kisses
written by Erma Bombeck

A young mother writes:

"I know you’ve written before about the empty-nest syndrome, that lonely period after the children are grown and gone.

Right now I’m up to my eyeballs in laundry and muddy boots.

The baby is teething, the boys are fighting.

My husband just called and said to eat without him, and

I fell off my diet. Lay it on me again, will you?"

OKAY!
One of these days, you’ll shout,"Why don’t you kids grow up and act your age!"
And they will.

Or, "you guys get outside and find yourselves something to do… and don’t slam the door!"
And they won’t.

You’ll straighten up the boys’ bedroom neat and tidy: bumper stickers discarded, bedspread tucked and smooth, toys displayed on their shelves. Hangers in the closet.
Animals caged. And you’ll say out loud, "Now I want it to stay this way
And it will.

You’ll prepare a perfect dinner with a salad that hasn’t been picked to death and a cake with no finger traces in the icing, and you’ll say, "Now, there’s a meal for company."
And you’ll eat it alone.

You’ll say,
"I want complete privacy on the phone. No dancing around. No demolition crews.
Silence! Do you hear?"
And you’ll have it.

No more plastic tablecloths stained with spaghetti.

No more bedspreads to protect the sofa from damp bottoms.

No more gates to stumble over at the top of the basement steps.

No more clothespins under the sofa.

No more playpens to arrange a room around.

No more anxious nights under a vaporizer tent.

No more sand in the sheets or Popeye movies in the bathroom.

No more iron-on patches, rubber bands for ponytails, tight boots or wet knotted shoestrings.

Imagine.

A lipstick with a point on it.

No baby-sitter for New Year’s Eve.

Washing only once a week.

Seeing a steak that isn’t ground.

Having your teeth cleaned without a baby on your lap.

No PTA meetings. No car pools.

No blaring radios. No more washing her hair at 11 o’clock at night.

Having your own roll of Scotch tape!

Think about it.

No more Christmas presents out of toothpicks and library paste.

No more sloppy Oatmeal kisses.

No more tooth fairy.

No giggles in the dark.

No knees to heal,

No responsibility.

Only a voice crying,

"Why don’t you grow up?"

and the silence echoing,

"I did."