HELL EXPLAINED BY CHEMISTRY STUDENT...

Okay, so I do not normally share the joke emails i get here in my blog (I get about forty a day), but this one was just too good not to share. I found myself giggling like a school girl, and wishing I had had the guts to try getting away with answers like that when I was at school. I hope you all enjoy this one as much as I did. That's all, Bye.

HELL EXPLAINED BY CHEMISTRY STUDENT


The following is an actual question given on a
University of Washington
chemistry mid term.

The answer by one student was so 'profound' that the
professor shared it
with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of
course, why we now have the
pleasure of enjoying it as well :


Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or
endothermic (absorbs
heat)?


Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs
using Boyle's Law (gas
cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed)
or some variant.

One student, however, wrote the following:

First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is
changing in time. So we need
to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell
and the rate at which
they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume
that once a soul gets to
Hell, it will not leave.

Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls
are entering Hell,
let's look at the different religions that exist in
the world today.

Most of these religions state that if you are not a
member of their
religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more
than one of these
religions and since people do not belong to more than
one religion, we can
project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and
death rates as they are,
we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase
exponentially. Now, we
look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell
because Boyle's Law states
that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell
to stay the same, the
volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls
are added.

This gives two possibilities:

1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate
at which souls enter
Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will
increase until all Hell
breaks loose.

2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the
increase of souls in
Hell,then the temperature and pressure will drop until
Hell freezes over.

So which is it?

If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa
during my Freshman year
that, 'It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep
with you,' and take into
account the fact that I slept with her last night,
then number two must be
true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and
has already frozen
over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell
has frozen over, it
follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is
therefore,
extinct......leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the
existence of a divine
being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept
shouting 'Oh my God.'


THIS STUDENT RECEIVED AN A+.

My Emmy...

Okay, so I got a call this afternoon from my beautiful step-daughter Emily. Emily and I have had our share of ups and downs over the last fifteen years, but I think we have finally reached a place where we can be friends, and where we can really love each other, as friends. Trying to mother her was never an option with Emily, besides, she already has a wonderful mother, so she didn't need another one. And don't take it wrong, I have always loved Emily, but now, I kind of like her too, and that is a good thing. Except, that now that we have finally reached this place, our Emmers is going to be leaving us. Emily is twenty now, and has been, well, sort of just out there in the world, but never really finding a place for herself. She has gone through a few jobs. She has moved from Iowa to Illinois, and back again. And has just been searching for a way to make her own life. She has decided on a way. See, today, she called me to double check on my middle name. I thought it an odd question. (It is Michelle for those of you who don't know, and those of you who always forget. {cough, cough}) Apparently she needs it for the recruiter. (I still can't understand what my middle name has to do with anything.) My sweet Emily, is taking her first oath tomorrow. She will be leaving for Basic on January eleventh. She is joining the Army. She will do Basic at Fort Jackson. I am proud of her. In fact, I do not think I have ever been MORE proud of her. Emily has a past history of starting things and never finishing them. But I think this will be different. I have faith in her. I have faith that she will do the right thing, and tough it out, and I am proud. I need to start saving so that I can take the trip to see her graduate. I will be one of the proudest Mommas there! The hubby and my good friend (And Emily's step-father) Bill, have decided that what I should do is join the reserves. LMAO. ME? Could you imagine? I do not do well with orders! And the term "Fuck Off" flows too easily from my lips when someone says something to me that I do not like. I see myself getting in far too much trouble in a military situation to even seriously consider it. Besides, khaki is not my color..and I would look downright silly in a beret. But I will be glad to sit in the stands, and cheer when she has her moment to shine. I will be so proud, I am so proud. That is all, Goodnight.

A pretty good day...

Okay, so today has been good. A waking up chat with The Honey, a quiet movie and a couple of cups of coffee with Toni, the kids are all out playing, the hubby is over at his buddies watching the game, the house is all mine, quiet, peaceful, just the sound of my little finches chitter chattering to keep me company. Maybe I will watch a movie. Maybe I will take a nap. Maybe I will eat some more turkey and stuffing until my belly feels like it is going to explode. Maybe i will read some more of the book I started. (Ticia got me The Claiming Of Sleeping Beauty as a belated birthday gift. I love that woman! I have been wanting that book for a long time. It is wonderfully trashy, and naughty, and makes me smile. Thanks Ticia!) What ever i decide to do, I will do it with a smile on my face. Because today has been a pretty good day. That's all, Bye.

It's after midnight, finally...

Okay, so Thanksgiving is officially over. Thank God! Now i do not have to cook again until Christmas! Maybe this year I will just call out for Christmas pizza, and skip all the hours of work that dinner normally entails. Think of all the free time I will have, no deviled eggs, no candied Yams (not from the can, they suck!), no Turkey with cornbread stuffing, no ham covered with honey and pineapple and cherries, no green bean casserole (I hate that stuff, but am forced to make it every year.. YUCK!), no corn casserole, no mashed potatoes, no gravy, no homemade pies, none of that stuff, just everyone getting to order a pizza of their own with whatever toppings they want... sounds like a hell of a plan to me! And I can just sit back, enjoy my day off, and maybe get to watch some TV. (I missed all the football games again this year because I was cooking.. but I do pay attention...The Boys beat the Jets (? I think it was the Jets), 10 and 1 now I think, yeah for you! Okay, that's all, I am tired, and I have to work tonight, so That's all, Goodnight!

I walked in the snow today...

I walked in the snow today. Big, fat snow flakes fell in my hair, dusting me with a soft blanket of white. The snow did not last long, but it lasted long enough for me to think of walking in the snow, next to you. Holding your hand in mine. It lasted long enough to imagine the snow in your hair, caught in your eyelashes. The pink coming into your cheeks, the red to your lips. It lasted long enough for me to imagine kissing your lips, standing in the snow, warm in your arms. I walked in the snow today, and I thought of you.

A Thanksgiving message from me to all of you...

Hi Friends,
I just wanted to send out a little note to let you all know that I will be thinking of you today. I think about you everyday. I am Thankful for you everyday. And today, when I list all the things I am grateful for, your name will spill from my lips. I will hope for a Happy Day for you, and I will hope for a better tomorrow for you...I will hope that all your dreams come true, and that you are always within the reach of someone who loves you when I can not be there. I will hope that someday we will get to be together again, or for the first time as the case may be. I will be hoping that you feel my love, and that you know, that I am truly Thankful for YOU! I love you all, Dawn

That's all, Goodnight.

Mirror, Mirror...

Okay, so Ticia is not happy that I posted her pictures. See, she doesn't see what I see when I look at her. What I see is an amazing woman, strong, funny, smart, vibrant. My friend. I love her. I think she is beautiful. She doesn't see that. She sees whatever it is that she sees, and is not happy with it. While I do not understand how she can not see what I see, I also do the same. When I sobered up, I almost deleted all the pictures of myself that I had posted. Why? Well, because I do not think that I am attractive, and posting unattractive pictures of myself is a sure way to invite someone to tell me how unattractive I am. I know it makes no sense to some of you. Some of you who are confident. Some of you who know who you are and are okay with that. I on the other hand, do not have that self confidence. I have self doubt. When I face that mirror everyday, I see all my flaws staring back at me. I see a flat spot on my nose, that I can not quite explain. I see that my ears are crooked, so when I am wearing my glasses, they always sit a little lopsided. I see that I have a mild lazy eye (It only becomes obvious when I am tired or drunk, but I see it.) In the last forty eight hours I have been called, "Hot", "Sexy", "Stunning", "Beautiful" and "Gorgeous". I responded that the people using those words to describe me were either blind, or mentally challenged. Because, I just do NOT see that. Any of it. I see an overweight, nearing middle aged, over worked, over tired, under loved woman who needs to lose thirty more pounds, get a tan, have a boob job, get a tummy tuck, needs a new nose, and maybe some liposuction and a Brazilian butt lift. I see the wrinkles starting around my eyes. I see the effect gravity is having on my body. I see the stretch marks, I see the sag where there used to be muscle. It is funny, how we all see something different when looking at the same thing. The Honey says I am "beautiful", that he loves the "whole package" (I think that was the term he used.) The hubby says I am "gorgeous" but that my face is getting too thin and I need to start eating more. Joel says I am "Sexy as hell." Three men, three sets of eyes, looking at the same woman, seeing different things. It has to do with many factors. It has to do with their own personal tastes. The Honey loves my mind, and so is blind to any flaws in my physical being. The hubby loves me, and is afraid that if other men desire me, he will lose me, and so wants to see me be less than what I can be. Joel is a sweet twenty one year old kid, who has seen me at my worst, and appreciates what it took for me to get where I am. (He struggles with his weight as well, and we exchanged "Fat photos") He knows that I still struggle with self confidence, and is attracted to that part of me that reminds him of his own battle scars. He wants to make me feel wanted, because he knows what it is like to NOT feel wanted. My neighbor Don is the one who said I am "hot". Don is a special case. He has always been attracted to me, even at my heaviest. He loves my heart. And that is why he sees what he sees. I was told I was "stunning" by a complete stranger tonight at Wal-Mart. Lmao. It is funny, because I didn't even bother to do anything today other than put on some moisturizer. No make-up, hair in a bun, tired, cold, in a hurry. And a total stranger said that I was "stunning". It feels good, but I find that hard to believe. Maybe if I start writing those words down. If i start saying them to myself everyday, I will eventually start to believe it. Maybe. Not likely. But if I expect Ticia to start seeing the beautiful woman I see when she looks in the mirror, then maybe I had better start to practice what I preach. That is all, Goodnight.

Hanging out on a Sunday...

Okay, so I spent today just hanging out at home....online, taking a nap, chatting with Jeremy, normal day off kinda stuff. Watched a few movies...We Are Marshall was great, but I am strange for a woman, I love football movies, and boxing movies. (It made me cry a couple of times, so I guess in that way i am very typically female.) Fido, the zombie flick I wanted to see, was just so so. I am glad I watched it, but it is not one I would run out and buy. ( I will be owning We Are Marshall.) I got back in contact with my Niece Sara this weekend. I will call her in the morning. I just found out she is living back in North Carolina, maybe it is time I pay that child a visit. I miss her. That's all, goodnight.

Speak no evil (aka..a day in the life of me...in pictures)...

Okay, so my day started by waking up Toni with a cup of hot coffee, after which we headed to South Omaha (where you can buy cheap smokes)...



We bought smokes, and I bought the gifts that I was taking to my bingo party (I won a zen fountain thingy, some candles and some candy, but not the money!) I spent some time with my girls after we got home, over at Toni's house. Please excuse the mess, minor construction is taking place at her house these days.
Then I headed to the bingo party. I was picked up by Robin (former boss lady) and her sister Glory. I played bingo with Summer (her baby is in the pictures.), Robin's daughters (Fransica, and Tiffany), Glory and her daughter (whose name I am sorry to say I can not remember). ((I also watched some guys play golf for awhile, outside of Summer's House.))


When I got home, i jumped online for a bit. My sis-in-law Ticia Imed me and we made plans to go out for the night. She came and picked me up, and we partied at my favorite local hangout, withmy friends Joel, Suzie, and Joel's friend (yes, he is gay, Ryan) ((Joel is NOT gay, but Ryan is)). We danced, sang, drank, and generally had ourselves a merry ol' time. (Yes, Joel touched my boobie, but he only did it because I was teasing him about the fact that I was more man than anyone in the bar, having had my hands on Ticia and Suzie's boobs at the same time... LOL.) ((And Ticia took the cleavage pic of me... LMAO))



















All said and done, it was a pretty good day. Except I miss The Honey who is home this weekend. I know the pictures of me are probably pretty shitty (I am NOT very photogenic) But right now everything is softly out of focus for me, and so I am posting them all (well not all, I took almost one hundred pictures today.) But look quick, I may delete them when I wake up sober and see just how awful I really look in them. That's all, goodnight.

I started out angry, but ended up smiling...

Okay, so just for the record, I did NOT go to the bar tonight. See how early it is while I am writing this post? Actually, I do not know what to write about. I was going to write about idiot delivery drivers who mistakenly delivered my memory card for my new camera to someone else's house, but (silly me) it was in my mailbox the whole time. But really, how was I supposed to know? When they delivered my camera they just left it sitting on the porch. Lucky someone was home, otherwise I might have never gotten it. Maybe that is a clue though, that I should start checking my mail more than once a week. But really, all I ever get is bills, and catalogues (so that I can create more bills.) so once a week is usually sufficient. Things have been pretty okay for me lately. In my fucked up world, okay is really a lot better than usual, so I am happy about that. I have decided though, that I need to learn patience. I have none. At least not for stupid people, and that is where my problem lies. I am always surrounded by idiots. The one that has been bothering me the most lately is a guy at work. I do not know his name. It is on his hardhat, but I couldn't pronounce it to save my life. He is new. Well, new to my department anyway, and he is driving me insane! He works my line with me (Yes, my line. I refused to bid a job at my new plant, simply because I wasn't sure if I liked it enough to stay. So the other night, the boss man came up to me and told me that he had done the paperwork for me to "own" my job, without consulting me. He told me that I will be the one person who will always work my line, apparently I am good at this job, and he didn't want some other supervisor to be able to take me out of his department. I guess it is okay. It came with a thirty cent an hour raise. Not much, but every little bit helps.) So now they have put this idiot with me on my line. I swear, I almost quit last night. This guy is just clueless. I don't think he can read numbers very well, and reading numbers is a huge part of out job. Seriously, how hard is it to read the numbers and put the right packages in the right boxes, and apply the right labels? Not only does he constantly fuck it up, but he is always poking me on the shoulder asking me if he is using the right labels. UGH! Like I am not busy enough, doing the work of two people because he is incapable of reading the damned numbers! UGH! sorry, I am just venting. I really need to stop. Actually, I was in the middle of writing this blog last night when The Honey came online and we started chatting. After that I just didn't feel like bitching anymore. I was smiling too much. He makes me laugh. He makes me smile. Thanks Honey, I needed that. I hope you are feeling better today than you were last night. I hope time with me is as therapeutic for your blues as time with you is for mine. That's all people, Bye.

You're so...

Lmao....That's all, Goodnight.

P.S. Yes I knew you thought that blog was about you.. Lmao, sorry, I had to beat you to the punch, and I did...

Score = Me-1
You-0

Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies...

Okay, so what the hell is it with people saying shit they do not mean? I just do not get it. I guess the fact that I am so completely honest makes me an oddity in this world, and that is rather depressing when you stop to think about it. I do not understand why people lie so much. I will admit to twisting the truth a bit on occasion, but why do people lie when it is not necessary? Just take for example a common situation that almost everyone has found themselves to be in at one time or another....You are sitting there minding your own business when someone (friend, child, significant other) ask you..."Does this look alright?" You lift your head to look, and see that what they are wearing is absolutely horrendous. Now, what do you do? Apparently, most people would lie at this point. "Why yes dear, it looks fine, let's go." And off you go about your day, with someone who looks like a Salvation Army reject. Why would you do that? Obviously the person who asked you, values your opinion otherwise they would not have bothered to ask, right? So why not just be tactfully honest? You don't have to tell them that they look like an walking advertisement for the local school for the visually impaired, you just have to be honest. "I think your blue sweater would look better with those jeans than that green and purple polka-dotted shirt with the bright orange details." See, not a lie, non-confrontational, no hurt feelings, and you do not have to be seen in public with someone dressed like a freak! Works all around. Why is that so difficult for most people? And then there are the whopper lies that people tell. For example someone recently told me that they would love to have another child, with me...WTF? I guess this is an easy thing to say, considering the fact that I had a tubal ligation over four years ago. So saying it really means nothing. In order for me to get pregnant at this point, I would have to be one of the 0.4% of women whose tubal ligation fails, or I would have to surgically correct the problem. Now, there are a few ways to go about having a child after tubal ligation. One is tubal ligation reversal, that is one option. Of course the procedure runs anywhere from seven to fifteen thousand dollars (depending on the type of procedure used to tie your tubes in the first place), and is NOT covered by insurance. And while the surgery is available to reverse the tubal, there is no guarantee that a pregnancy will ever happen, just luck of the draw kid! Okay so that is option one, option two is In Vitro Fertilization. Now here again we are faced with the fact that most insurance companies do not cover costs related to this procedure, so here we are looking at spending an even prettier penny. The cost for one try at In Vitro Fertilization is as follows...the expected cost of IVF is $9,000. This covers office visits, injection training, estrogen and ultrasound monitoring, hospital retrieval costs, 6 months of embryo freezing, lab fertilization expenses, hospital transfer costs and physician services. ICSI, if necessary, warranted and desired, is an extra $750. None of these costs include medication. A major cost of each cycle is medication. The range of medication costs is between $1,500 and $4,000 per cycle, with an average cost about $2,700. Intracytoplasmic Sperm Injection (ICSI) is an additional component of an IVF cycle usually used with male factor issues or when fertilization does not normally occur. The procedure, done in a laboratory, takes one sperm and injects it into one egg. (This is one of the cheaper places I found, and you probably get what you pay for.) So, we are talking a good hunk of change here and again, no guarantee. The success rates for women my age (They dropped quite dramatically in September when I hit thirty six instead of thirty five apparently) is thirty six percent, that means that to actually have a child, I would most likely have to try this procedure three times, right? Well, you do the math, and you can see, that I would still be paying off the Doc for the conception, by the time the little shit makes it to college. (Okay, maybe that is going a bit far, but still, that is a lot of money! Money I do not have.) So why in the name of God would he even say such a thing to me? Anyone who knows me, knows that I love children, that I want more children, and that to say such a thing to me just fucking hurts! It is down right cruel, and a completely unnecessary lie! Okay, I am done venting. I just needed to get that off my chest so that I can sleep tonight. That's all, Goodnight.

P.S. When do those test results come back? I am concerned. Let me know as soon as you know something, please.

The animal I have become...

Okay, so not really become...more like the animals I have. I have a lot of them. I have lost track of the number of pets I currently own. I used to know, I don't anymore. Why? Well, because some of them die, and then there are new ones added to this little zoo I call home. Let's see... I currently have two dogs. I had three up until just a few days ago when a neighbor called the pound on my sweet Sheba. I know what you are thinking...why don't I just go get her? Well, the fact of the matter is that a neighbor is going to adopt her, they were going to adopt her from us, but the pound caught her first. I know they are just doing their jobs, but really, she weighs about six pounds, and she is the most friendly dog you have ever seen. Also, she was just hanging out in my yard, not bothering a soul. But now the neighbors are going to be the legal registered owner, so when she makes an escape from their house (something she is notorious for) they will get the tickets, not me.. really much better in the long run. So, I am down to two dogs. One, my little Miniature Pincher named Khan,



whom I have had for almost ten years. Poor little guy, he is getting quite old now. I love him so much, he is such a little baby. He weighs about four pounds (on a good day), and just wants to be with his mommy (me). He is always near me. If I am online, he is at my feet. If I am in bed, he is under the blanket cuddled as close to me as he can possibly get. I will miss him when it is his time to die, hopefully that will not be for a long time yet. My second dog is named Fergie. Fergie is a Sharpei/Labrador mix.




I know she looks all sweet and innocent in these pictures, but she really can be quite mean if you piss her off. Most times she would rather lick you than bite, but do not get too close to me around her, or you may end up missing body parts. Fergie weighs about ninety pounds, and thinks she is a lap dog. She talks to me when she wants to go outside. It sounds something like...wrooooo wroooooo wrhoooooooooo...growl...grunt...huff...wrooooo wrooooo. I talk back to her in her language. She thinks I am insane, but she loves me.

I have two cats, who I could not capture long enough to get photos of today. They are hunters by nature. Cat (Yes, that is his name. He was named after a character in a British Sci-Fi Comedy I like called Red Dwarf.) only comes home when he wants some affection, and he doesn't stay long. He did, until Kylie started walking, then he decided that he was safer out fighting other big tom cats, than he was in our house trying to hide from a teething one year old who was newly mobile. My other cat named Git is home a lot more often. We got him when Kylie was about two. He has learned that when picked up by Kylie, the best response is to just go limp and wait for her to get bored with him. He is in the house every night at bedtime, when he waits for Kylie to fall sound asleep before curling up next to her.

I have one guinea pig named Chet. I did have two, but the one named Dog Food died not too long ago. She was a sweet girl, but old. I adopted her from the pound for three dollars, and I had her for about six months. She died happy and well loved. Chet was gifted to me (dumped on me), by a family who no longer wanted to care for him. He is not very friendly, hence no picture. He does not like to be held, but I will try again some other day.

I have one ferret named Schmee.



Schmee is a dolly. She loves to be with her people. Especially with Kylie. She actually kisses Kylie when Kylie makes kissy noises at her. It is so incredibly sweet. I wish I had gotten a picture of that. Maybe next time. I knew I had to have Schmee the first time i held her in the pet store. Just a baby, and all she wanted to do was cuddle up in my arms and sleep. I called home and asked if it was alright. Of course he said yes. He always gives in to my whims. So she was mine. I am so glad. She is the most loving little beast ever.

I have a few birds left. I was up to fourteen of them. Twelve zebra finches, and two parakeets. But in a matter of two days I lost all but five of my finches and one parakeet. I still have not figured out what caused that, but I am glad that whatever it was did not claim them all. Though it did kill Stumpy, my favorite finch. He had gotten a purple hair from Kylie's Halloween wig wrapped around his leg, and by the time I found it the next morning and removed it the damage was done. His little foot fell off a week later, and he was back to being his sweet little self soon after. I miss Stumpy. He used to come to me when all the others would fly away from me in fear.

I have one saltwater clown fish. My children named him Marlin. I guess that is the daddy clown fish's name in Finding Nemo. See, when I bought him, I actually bought two of them. But the very first night, one of them went missing never to be seen again. No carcass, no nothing, so they said that the missing one was Nemo, and the one remaining was Marlin. I am okay with that. Marlin survived the blackout when none of the other fish, starfish, anemones, crabs, or shrimp in my tank did. It was two summers ago, and the power went out for two days. We went to my brother-in-law's place in Omaha to survive the heat, but a salt water tank is not easily transported, so they were left to perish. I felt horrible, but what could I do. I came home to a dead tank, except for Marlin, who is still going strong. Since photographing fish in a tank is not an easy chore, I found a photo online of what Marlin looks like. Isn't he cute?



I also have a pair of Sugar Gliders. They are nocturnal creatures, and so do not like flash photography, so I also stole a picture of what they look like from the web.



Don't they look sweet? Do not be fooled people. Some sugar gliders make great pets, wanting nothing more than the company of their people. But NOT ALL OF THEM! Mine for example, are two females. Sisters. I named them Sydney and Boomer. (They come from Australia after all.) They are vicious little bitches, who will definitely bite the hand that feeds them, over and over again. And when they are angry they make a sound that will chill you to the bone. Amazingly loud too, especially for something so very small. (They easily fit in the palm of your hand.) The only way to describe the noise is that it reminds me somewhat of the sound of an electric pencil sharpener. Only louder, and scarier. Evil little things really. They love to eat fruit and sweet nectar, hence the term sugar glider. They do not fly, but they can glide great distances, similar to flying squirrels. And they are marsupials. But, they will also eat meat. Chicken is a particular favorite. But you have not seen anything until you see a pair of sugar gliders attack and eat a hapless mouse that was stupid enough to hope they would share their daily plate of fresh fruit. One of them glided down on it from her perch and the other attacked from the corner where she had been watching silently. It was horrible to witness, and I hope I never have to see anything like it again. They start with the brains, much like zombies in all bad zombie flicks. It was just unpleasant.

The last creature in my little zoo, is also the newest addition. His name is Baxter. Baxter is a sweet bunny rabbit that I found living in my yard apparently after someone else got tired of caring for him. He was half starved and half bald from being attacked by the neighborhood pets. Baxter now has a warm home with children who adore him, and he is getting fat and has all his hair back. (He still has a few scars from his time in the wild.) I think Baxter looks happy, what do you think?




Well, those are all the pets I have, until some other idiot decides to just dump his pet when he gets bored with it. When one shows up on my doorstep, they become a member of my family, and they are well loved. But really, maybe I should start construction on that Ark, are they calling for rain?

That's all, Goodnight.

If you think this is bad, you should see my MP3 playlists...

Okay, so I really don't have much to talk about tonight, so I am going to share a few videos with you that I have watched today...

This one makes me cry. I feel her pain...



This one...well I just like it...



This one makes me a little sad...



This one makes me dance...



This one makes me smile..



This one makes me sing...



This one makes me relaxed...



This one makes me want to Thank You...



This one is how I feel...



That's all, Goodnight.

Treats For Troops...

Okay, so it is that time of year again folks! The dreaded Holiday Season! But as we are all bitching and moaning about the turkey taking too long, or the pie crust getting too browned, we need to all remember those wonderful men and women who are not at home with their families. Those men and women who are sacrificing their holiday's so that they can protect our nation from all enemies. Please, if you have the time (and I know you do if you had the time to read my blog) and if you have the money to spare, (I know all of you do not, but dig deep people!) please visit Treats For Troops and send a care package to some well deserving member of our Armed Forces. Let them know we care! Let them know they are NOT FORGOTTEN! That's all, Bye.

This is what a holiday looks like in Iraq...


after they wait in this line....



and if they are lucky, they may get to roast marshmallows afterwards...



I was sent this in an email many, MANY years ago. I loved it then, I love it now, and since it is my blog, I can do anything that I want so here is a poem.. deal with it....

A U.S. Marine Christmas
'Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone
In a one bedroom house made of plaster and stone
I had come down the chimney with presents to give
And to see whom in this house did live

As I looked all around, a strange sight I did see
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree
No stockings by the fire, just boots full of sand
On the wall hung a picture of a far away land

With medals and badges, awards of all kinds
A sobering thought soon came to my mind
For this house was different, unlike any I'd seen
This was the home of a U.S. Marine

I heard stories about them so I had to see more
I walked down the hallway and pushed open the door
And there he lay sleeping- Silent. Alone.
Curled up on the floor of his one bedroom home

He seemed so gentle, his face so serene
Not how I pictured a U.S. Marine
Was this the hero of whom I'd just read?
Curled up on his poncho, a floor for his bed?

His head was clean shaven, his face weathered tan
I soon understood this was more than a man.
For I realized the families that I saw tonight
Owed their lives to these men who were willing to fight

Soon around the nation the children would play
And grown-ups would celebrate a bright Christmas day
They enjoyed freedom each day and all year
Because of Marines like the one lying here

I couldn't help wonder how many lay alone
On a cold Christmas Eve in a land far from home
Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye
I dropped to my knees and I started to cry

He must have awoken for I heard a rough voice
"Santa don't cry. This life is my choice.
I fight for freedom, I don't ask more.
My life is my God, my country, my Corps."

With that he rolled over, drifted off into sleep
I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.
I watched him for hours. So silent and still
noticed he shivered from the cold nights chill

So, I took off my jacket, the one made of red
To cover this Marine from his toes to his head
Then I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold
With the eagle, globe, and anchor emblazoned so bold

Although it barely fit me. I began to swell with pride
For one shining moment I was Marine Corps deep inside
I didn't want to leave him, so quite in the night
This guardian of honor so willing to fight

But half asleep he rolled over and in a voice clean and pure
Said, "Carry on Santa, it's Christmas Day, all is secure!"
One look at my watch and I knew he was right
Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi, and good night!

~Author Unknown

Kylie's Birthday, The Marine Corps Birthday, and Veteran's Day...

Okay, so November eleventh, Veteran's Day, is my daughter Kylie's Birthday. (We already celebrated on the same night we celebrated my son Jamie's Birthday, since my nights home are few and far between. His was October twenty-third.) Kylie was a planned C-section birth. Well, kind of planned. She was actually supposed to be born on November tenth, so that she would be born on... yes, I really did choose this... The Marine Corps Birthday! LOL... I know, I am strange, but that is how it was planned. (You all know my weakness for Marines, so why this should come as a huge shock to you, I couldn't guess.) She was supposed to be born on the Marine Corps Birthday, but it didn't quite work that way. My doctor kept getting called away for emergencies. My delivery being "planned" did not qualify me as such. On and off all that day he would come sprinting into my room, and ask if I was ready. On and off all day that day, he would get a call, or a page, and have to go sprinting off to somewhere else. He did finally make it back at about eleven forty that night, and asked me if I still wanted to try and have her born on The Marine Corps Birthday! I said that Veteran's Day would work just as well, as my Doc had been running to and fro and performing emergency procedures since at least five A.M that day. I wanted him well rested before he took a sharp object to my soft parts. It is kind of nice having her share her Birthday with Veteran's day. She sees parades, and thinks they are for her. Happy Early Birthday My Monster-faced Brat Child, Poo-Poo-Nut! (I am her mother, I can call her anything I wish! Scary part is, she actually answers to that all the time!) Here is a picture of my almost four year old demon child... she ate something really messy at Grandma Toni's.. isn't she a dolly?




Since November tenth is The Marine Corps Birthday, let me just say Happy Birthday to all Marines. (Past, Present, and future!) And Especially to Chesty Puller (The most decorated Marine in history!) who is looking down on all Marines tonight as they rest. (Or don't rest, as the case may be.) Happy Birthday to you all!


Enjoy the Marine Corps 2007 Birthday Message...



Since November eleventh is Veteran's Day, let me just say Thank You, to all who have ever, are now, or will ever serve this great Country of ours in any branch of our Armed Services. Thank You, and God Bless You, and Happy Veteran's Day!

Please, even if you have already seen this video a thousand times, take the time right now to watch it again, and remember all the men and women who are serving us right now, by giving so much of themselves to keep us safe in an unsafe world...





I am sending out a hug right now to My Favorite Vet (I wonder if anyone can guess who?)....Hugs, Dawn

That's all, Goodnight!

Why being a thirty-somethingish woman really sucks (and what to do about it)...

Okay, so I was talking to Ticia last night, and as is usual with the two of us, the conversation turned to our sex lives, or the lack thereof. "Why would we talk about such things?", you may be asking. Well, let me tell you why. The reason we talk about sex, is because we have both hit that magic time in our lives when sex is about all we can think about! I swear, I am horny all the time. I am sick, sicker than I have been in years, still horny. Stress (Oh my, do I have stress), still horny. A Dirty house, does nothing to diminish the constant desire for sex. Crying children? Okay, that kills the urge, but only very briefly. As soon as they stop crying? Horny again. The wind blows a little harder than usual, and my shirt brushes against my nipples? I am ready to go. At work, the production floor is like one huge vibrator, you walk on to the floor, and you can feel the humming of the powerful machines through your entire body. It gives me the shivers just thinking about what that does to me. The sound of a certain sexy voice, hearing the words Angel, or Baby, or Sweet Addiction? I know it makes no sense, but I swear I am melting at those words. I know some of you probably do not see the problem with this. I will explain. The problem is, that just as I have reached this point in my life, the point where I want sex ten times a day, every day, (night, afternoon, early morning, whatever, whenever, wherever) The men in the age group that I am most attracted to are losing interest in sex. Okay, not all of them, but the one that I have access to. (The hubby) So, I have decided that I have two options to fulfill my needs. I can...

A.) Start a cult in which women are allowed multiple husbands. Now hear me out. I am thinking that six ought to be the limit. And that the women in my new cult should pick their men based on their needs. For example, I would choose one man that I love with all my heart, someone who I want to spend forever with, talking and laughing, and loving. He would get the distinction of being number one husband. He would be allowed to help choose husbands numbers two through six. For husband number two, I am thinking I need someone who is handy around the house. So maybe I could marry a General Contractor. Someone who could fix any little thing that goes wrong, he would have to be knowledgeable in all aspects of home repair... electrical, plumbing, and carpentry skills would be a must. Husband number three would be chosen for his skills in automotive repair. This must include both engine and body work. For husband number three, I am thinking I need an anal retentive type. Someone who loves to clean. (We all know that I am a very "cluttery" type of person, and chances are that will never change.) I need someone who will be happy just following around behind me and cleaning up my messes. And the messes of my kids, and hubbys numbered one, two, four, five and six. Husband number four will have to be skilled in the culinary arts. I love to eat, and I want someone who will cook for me. Someone skilled in both plain fare (like liver and onions, and southern fried chicken), to some pretty lavish multi-course meals. ( I will want to entertain guests occasionally. After all, I will be the leader of this cult and will have to throw a few good parties once in awhile in order to solicit funding for my compound's security.) Hubby number five must be great at doing laundry. Maybe he will own his own dry cleaning business. I will have a LOT of laundry that needs doing with that many men around, and we all know that I can not stand folding clothes. Now, hubby number six , well he must be great with the kids. He must be patient, and kind, and nurturing. He must be able to get the little heathens to listen, and do their homework, and not do things like my sweet Kylie did last night! (She was screaming in my bedroom, and when I went to see what was wrong, I found her hanging upside down from my closet pole, too afraid to let herself drop down head first! After I got her down, she apparently decided that it would be fun to flush one of Bubba's (Jamie's) Hot Wheels down the toilet. Of course we did not figure this out until this morning when I woke up and the bathroom was flooded, and we had to take apart the toilet to get it out, prompting a rush to Menard's for a new wax ring and flange! I LOVE my kids!!!! I LOVE my kids!!! I LOVE my kids!!! Sorry, I just have to remind myself occasionally.) Now, see, I have chosen six men who will fulfill all of my non-sexual needs, but here is the trick...if you get six men together at any given time, day or night, one of them is bound to be wanting sex! See, so anytime I was wanting to get me a "lil' sometin' sometin'" I would only have to let my needs be known, and I am bound to get a willing participant! No more having to handle the situation on my own! I think this is a brilliant plan, one that I should put into action as soon as possible. (And don't look at me like that! Men have been doing shit like this forEVER! It is not like I am asking for some underage boy, I want real men! Is that so wrong?)

If that for some reason doesn't pan out, I am left with option...

B.) Option B is quite simple really. See, men go through their sexual peak from about the age of eighteen to Twenty-five. So I propose that I be allowed to find myself a young man in this age group, and keep him chained in my basement for the sole purpose of sexual gratification. See? Simple. (The hubby heard Ticia and I talking and laughing about all of this last night, and asked what we were giggling about so hard. I explained option B to him, and he has said that if I dig us a basement, I can put option B into action. I am currently checking on the prices for renting a backhoe!)

Now that I have figured out what my options are, I just have to figure out the logistics of making each one of them a viable plan. I am currently working on the details, and will let you know how each turns out. Until then, I guess i will just have to resort to doing things the old fashioned way, and hope that girl from the fuckerware party hurries with my order. And Ticia, I promised to show you a picture of what will be my new best friend, so just to prove I am not afraid (and because I know it will make you laugh your ass off)... here ya go....



That's all, Goodnight

A cold winter's night...

Okay, so i know it is not exactly winter yet, but it sure as hell feels like it. I am not sure what today's high temperature was, but it wasn't enough. Even though I called in sick to work again tonight, I still had to go do some running this afternoon, and I froze my ass off the whole time. I swear I feel like a bucket of fuck, and I went out today looking like a bucket of fuck's twin sister. I wore my PJ's. Why? Because I could, and because they are warm and cuddly, and I wanted to be comfortable. I put on not a stitch of make-up, and to be completely honest, the people who had to deal with me today should count their blessings that I had bathed right before leaving the house, otherwise, I may not have even bothered to brush my hair today. I went and did the things i had to do, and then I came home. I have started dinner. I am making my homemade potato soup. It is one of my favorites on cold days like today. I could care less if anyone else in the house wants it tonight or not, that is what i am making so if they don't like it, they can starve. Speaking of starving...The Honey is fine (for now anyway), but he has to get a minor procedure done on Thursday. His doctor has ordered him not to eat for, get this, forty eight hours! Okay, so he can have clear fluids, but what man can survive on that for forty eight hours? Stupid Nazi Doctor!!! The Honey was already craving a burger at noon today, and I had to make him promise to be a good boy and do what the doctor says. He has promised, and I think he will do it, but why in God's name does he have to starve for that long? That is just silly. I wish I was there to make him a big ol' steak and potato dinner when he gets done, with some strawberry cheesecake for dessert. (Maybe even a pineapple or two as well.) I hope that everything turns out to be nothing. I know it will, it has to, just 'cause I need my best friend!!! Speaking of best friends, my best female friend, Toni, is starting to drive me insane. Don't get me wrong, I love her. But she is literally getting on my last nerve as of late. She has always been very "spiritual", but lately every conversation seems to turn into a religious debate with her. Every comment I make about my life seems to come back to how much "better off" I would be if I would give up men (drinking, my children, my job, my life, etc., etc.) and devote myself completely to the worship of God. Now, let me say that I am a believer. But i do not think that whatever God may be, he expects me to stop living my life. I do not think he expects me at the age of thirty six (OMG, I just said that obnoxious number out loud!), to deny myself the pleasure of love and companionship that the men in my life offer me, and be content to have only Him in my life. We as human beings were just not designed that way. I need more to keep me warm at night than the love of my Heavenly Father. I wish she would just get off of me about it all. And then to make matters worse, she argues with me about MY PERSONAL RELIGIOUS BELIEFS! She tells me that what i believe is WRONG! and if I do not get it right then I can NEVER BE RIGHT WITH GOD! I just want to scream at her asking if she has ever read the part of the bible that says "Judge not...." I do not downgrade her beliefs, I would never do that to ANYONE, so how is it that this woman who claims that I am like a daughter/sister to her can do that to me and think it is okay? And if I have to hear her admonish me again for eating when I am hungry, saying things like "I would just hate to see you gain all that weight back..." I swear i will scream! I am not gaining any weight back, and while I am no longer dropping the pounds, the pants sizes are still dropping regularly. My body has curves it hasn't known in years, and I am feeling (mostly) comfortable in my own skin for the first time in a long time. i do not need someone breathing down my neck because I choose to pig out and eat a couple of Chalupas and steak soft tacos once in awhile. (Oh and someone can let her know, I am sitting here eating a box of dark chocolate covered cherries as i am writing this. They are one of my favorite parts of the holiday season damn it, and I will eat the whole fucking box if I want to, so there!) ((They have to be the liquid center ones, not the ones with that white goo in them.)) Well, I have ranted long enough for now, I need to go check on my potato soup (with lots of real butter, onions, garlic, ham, potatoes, black pepper, celery, and fresh Italian parsley.) So that's all, Goodbye.

Rambling...

Okay, so I called the supposed original source of the info about the hubby cheating on me, and he denies it. He said that "to his knowledge" it never happened. This is from someone who would never lie to me, especially to cover for the hubby. So, I now believe the hubby about this one. I do not know why my "chosen child" said what she did. I am going to go with the theory that she took something out of context, and not what others believe which is that she is angry with her father (Okay, he is not really her father, but he is the father she has known most of her life. Her real father she refers to as "the donor".) and is trying to cause more problems for him. I don't think she would ever be so cruel. Does that mean that I for a minute believe that the hubby has been completely faithful to me? NO! But I do believe that this one was just a misunderstanding. And I have apologized for waking him up shortly after bar close Saturday night/Sunday morning to call him names that would make a bus full of drunken Marines blush. I was misinformed, and I am willing to admit that I was wrong. THIS TIME. Now, that said, on to today. I didn't go to work tonight. I called in sick. I have been sick for weeks now. I am not getting any better. In fact, I am getting worse. Tonight I had a headache that would drop a fucking mule. My nose is sore from too much wiping and blowing. And my throat hurts from coughing so much. My chest aches with every breath, and breathing is becoming a chore. I think I will take The Honey's "advice" (suggestion, recommendation, order...lol) and take a breathing treatment or three. I am a bit concerned that this cold is settling itself so deep in my chest. I have this sinking feeling that the doctor will say the dreaded P word if I go see him. I can not afford to be that sick. One day of work here or there is fine to miss, but if it really is that nasty P word, that will mean a week or more off of work, and I just can't afford that. It feels a bit like trying to breathe through wet cotton that has been stuffed into my lungs. (You would think that feeling like that would help me to put down the cigarettes for awhile, huh? Ha! Not a fucking chance. How pathetic am I?) I took some Sudafed and some Nyquil...the coughing has abated, but I am not sure that is such a good thing, now the shit is just sitting there clogging me up... ugh, I can't win! To top it all off, I have been going insane all day worried about The Honey. He has been pretty sick himself lately, and had an appointment today with a specialist. I haven't heard from him since about six thirty this morning, and so I have no idea what is going on. I am going to be stressed until I hear from him. So, even though I took the Nyquil (which normally knocks me unconscious for at least six hours.) I am still unable to sleep. And sleep is what I need to get better. Ugh. When it rains it pours. I guess I can always sleep some other night. I am however going to go to my bed, curl up under the covers and read awhile while I try to get this fever to break. Sitting here in my cold ass kitchen is not helping I am sure. I am thinking I need to ask the hubby to move my computer to my bedroom. I am not sure where I will put it exactly as the spot it used to be housed in is now where my sugar gliders live. I think I have too many animals. My neighbor says if ever it starts to flood around here, he is coming to my house, because obviously I am the reincarnation of Noah. Wow, I am rambling again. My son Jamie has come back home to live again. That makes me both happy and sad. Happy because I have missed the sound of his voice. I have missed his humour. His love. I have missed seeing him interact with his baby sister. I have missed everything about him. (Yes, even the temper tantrums.) But sad, because he was finally away from this place, away from these evil children that live around here, away from a school that just doesn't give a shit. I think we have decided to send him cross district to a different school. I am giving him a few days break before we get him started in his new school. I will get him enrolled on Wednesday. He just needs a little time to readjust to being back with all of us. Okay, I have rambled long enough. I guess that's all, Goodnight.

Another drunken post...

Okay, so I got drunk again tonight. Big fucking deal. I went to the bar alone, I left alone. My friend Tara showed up with her boyfriend , and my sweet step-daughter Alicia, showed up with hers. I almost went to Tara and her boyfriend's room tonihgt. they got a room becuse they were drunk, and they liveout of town. They invited me to their room to drink a few beers, but I came home instead to confront the hubby. I came to confront him about making me feel guilty about The Honey, when all along he has been having affairs. That is right. I found out tonight from of all people, my Chosen Child, Alicia. I honestly do not know how the subject came up. All I know is that it did, and she told me that her father had an affair not too long ago. An affair with an old flame apparently. What a sucker I am for being faithful all these years. What a fool have I been. Oh well, no more guilt anyway. That's all, Goodnight.


P.S. To The Honey. I miss you, and I hope that everything goes well on monday, call me and let me know that you are okay. I will be waiting. Hugs and kisses, Dawn

Culture shock...

Okay, so I was talking to The Honey a few days ago about my job. I was telling him about the fact that I am the only woman on my shift in my department for whom English is a "First" Language. Hell, I think I am the only woman on my shift in the entire plant with that distinction. So communication is often difficult at best. Tonight we had a "safety meeting". It was supposed to be about the use of PPE (Personal Protective Equipment). What it ended up being was all of us sitting around in the office (the classroom was in use), staring at the walls. Why? Well for one reason, the boss man doesn't think we need to review the material considering the fact that the only safety equipment we use in our department is hard hats. ( I still can't figure out why though. I stand in one spot packing packaged meat into boxes so that it can be shipped to your local Super-Center for that store with the smiley face as it's mascot. You know the one, he runs around rolling back the prices?) So rather than actually watch the film we were supposed to view, we all signed the form saying we understood the rules for PPE use, and then sat around to kill the time that the film would have taken up. Now, that brings us to reason number two as to why we did not actually have the meeting. If we did actually conduct the safety meeting, it could have taken hours. Why? You may be asking. Well, because for the people in my department to all see the movie in their native tongue, we would have to watch about five or six films. Since we are all supposed to be together while viewing the films, that would mean that we would all have to sit through an English version (for me), a Spanish version, A Vietnamese version, A Chinese version, a Japanese version, and an Arabic version. How silly is that? The boss man made a good call tonight, but I am not looking forward to when we do have to actually watch the films next month. (Next months meeting is on hand washing.) I won't be able to stand it. See for me, hearing all those different languages spoken around me all the time gives me a headache. It is not that I mind any of them really, but as soon as I get off the production floor and out into the halls, I take out my ear plugs and insert my ear buds, drowning out the cacophony of gibberish that invades my ears, with the sweet sounds of Hinder or Incubus. At least they are in English, so it is the one time of my night at work that I actually understand what someone is saying. I walk around in my own little world, coming out only long enough to smile at The Cutie when he smiles at me. (He has made it a point to come and talk to me a few times each night for the past two nights in a row, how sweet of him really, considering he probably thinks I am insane the way I watch for that smile.) He made a joke tonight that the only time he ever sees me without something in my ears, is when I am on the phone and am holding something to my ear. He has a point, but it is not an easy thing for me to deal with, that all of these people choose to live and work here in this country, hell half of them have become citizens, yet they are unable (or unwilling is more likely) to learn English. They talk about me to my face, in their native tongues. (I know this because one of my good friends from my old plant works with me, and she speaks Arabic. (She will not tell me what they were saying about me, just that it was not nice, and that women should not say those kinds of words.) Nice, huh? I have never done anything to deserve being talked about in a manner that a friend is not even willing to repeat. I show up on time everyday, and do my job to the best of my ability, then I go home. How does that deserve some one's anger? The Hispanic girls at this plant have been far kinder to me than I had expected, but, and here is a big but.... Most of them speak only the most basic English, and so therefore do not attempt to converse with me. There is one girl, the one I work with on my line, who has tried desperately to communicate with me, and I with her. She is a very nice woman, and I like her very much, but we can not do more than just speak to each other in our native tongues, and hope the other understands enough to get the drift of what we are saying. We have broken down a time or two and called over a translator. Translation, that is another thing that irritates me about the place I work. We have dozens of people running about in light blue colored hard hats. That color indicates a translator. But do not pin your hopes on being able to communicate with one of them. Most of them only speak two languages. Well, that would be fine for me except, I only speak ENGLISH! What happens when I need to speak to the girl who only speaks Japanese? Well, it goes something like this...I call over the Japanese translator, who only translates into Arabic, so we call over an Arabic translator, who only translates into Spanish, so we have to call over the Spanish translator, who translates to me in very broken and hard to comprehend English. Yep. All to ask the Japanese girl where she put my box labels while I was on break. It just isn't worth it. I usually end up playing a very crude version of Charades or Pictionary instead. With about as good of results.



I am also appalled by something else that happens at my work. Something I knew in my heart was taking place, but I didn't want to accept, until The Honey made sure to bring it to the front of my mind by telling me ALL about it. (Thanks HONEY!) That is, the unusual bathroom habits of people from other countries. Now, just let me say, I avoid our bathrooms at all costs. I often wait until about half way through the shift to excuse myself to go take that pee break I have been so desperately needing. Why? Well, it is simple. If I go mid shift i can use the upstairs bathroom that is for the sole use of the "Office" personnel. I just sneak up there when they are all gone for the night. I do this because the downstairs "Production" bathroom, is disgusting. All of the time. I don't mean your average paper towels on the floor gross. I mean toilet seats always soaking wet. Feces covered paper in the garbage cans that are in each stall. Unflushed toilets. It just gives me the Heebie Jeebies. (Kind of SKEEVES me out, if you know what I mean.) See, when I first started working at this plant, I noticed some of the women from the Middle East, and All places Africa, carrying bottles or cups full of water to the restroom with them. In my heart of hearts I knew why, but it didn't really hit home for me until The Honey told me that in the countries these people come from, they do not use toilet tissue like we do, they use water, and their hands, to wash their asses when they are finished using the restroom. EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!! Wow, my stomach turned just typing that sentence. How nasty is that? And why do they find it necessary to leave their nasty ASS WATER, all over the seat for the next person to enjoy. Yuck! I guess it is a good thing I am not wealthy. If I was, I would want to travel the world. If i did, and I went to a country where those kind of bathroom habits were practiced, I would go broke, starting a public awareness campaign on the proper use of toilets and bath tissue. That's all, Goodnight.