Tuesday, October 22, 2013

She Sees Dead People....

Since Halloween is right around the corner, I thought that now was as good of a time as any to talk about spooky crap.  Dead people seem to fall into that category.

Before I go on, I have to do a little disclaimer here.  I am not a medium, psychic, clairvoyant, witch, or any other kind of person that connects with the deceased.  I have never actually seen a ghost before, because if I had seen one, I'd be in the local psychiatric hospital, sitting in a corner, terrified while ripping out my eyebrows.

I have, however, seen ghostly activities that scared the bajeezus out of me and left me either screaming or crying.  I'm a big sissy though, so what might be scary to me might be giggle-worthy to you.

So back to my topic.

I think my daughter sees my father.  And he's dead.  I'm not kidding about either of those statements.

When Allie was a baby she would look up at the ceiling or at a blank wall space and suddenly smile and giggle.  You could tell that she was watching something.  And whatever that something was, it was extremely entertaining.

The first time this happened, Justin and I both watched her and asked, "WHAT is she looking at?" We would squint and stick our heads right next hers to see things from her view, and there was nothing.

At least it looked like nothing to us.

After a few more episodes, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

"Well, holy shit.  It's my dad."

"What?!  What do you mean it's your dad??"  Justin looked around nervously, trying to see if there was something around us.

"I know my father. He's all about entertaining kids.  Remember Moheeken, Boheeken and Hobomeeken?  Anything for a laugh.  He's probably making goofy faces at us, or telling her some wackadoodle story about Rindacella and Her Three Sissty Uglers."  It seemed so obvious to me now.

These mysterious gigglefests continued until she was able to speak.  Then the wake up calls began.

Okay.  I'm totally speculating on this one.  Actually, my mother is the speculator.  I just think her speculation may have some merit to it.

Allie does not sleep through the night.  She has slept straight through maybe six times in her three little years.  It's torturous for me to have broken sleep (it hits the Bitch Button in my brain).  Justin can wake up, have a conversation about how to install a torque tube and why a super charger is important (these are car terms, for those of you who were starting to take it to a pervy place), and then roll over and be in Snoresville within two minutes.  AND he's cheerful in the morning.  It's disgusting.

I know.... that's something a jealous person would say....color me green.

After hearing me complain about this nightly interruption for a few weeks, one day my mother comes out with, "Where's your father?"

"Well, that's kinda beyond my realm of knowledge.  I'm assuming he's chatting with Saint Pete at the Pearly Gates.  You know what a gabber he was....." Forever a smart ass.

"Where are his ashes?  Are they still in that room?"  My mom is quite the interrogator and has no tolerance for silliness when she's presenting a point.

I should mention that Allie's room was our office before she was born.  We had two desks and computers and file cabinets and all sorts of stuff in there.  We also had my father's ashes in there.  They were in a bag, in a container, in a box and they used to sit on my desk.

When Justin, my sister, one of our friends and my mom did an Extreme Makeover on the room after Allie was born, Dad was put into a storage box along with a photo printer, some sentimental cards and a pile of jumbo paper clips.  The box has been shuffled around that room a bit.  It currently resides in the closet.

"Yes, the box is in Allie's room.  Dad's in the closet, I believe."  I like to talk about him like he's still a living being, in case you hadn't noticed.  We all seem to do that around here.

"Well, get rid of it.  That's probably what's keeping her awake.  Take your father to a beautiful place and spread his ashes.  It's not good to keep him in that box, especially in her room."  She said all of this very matter-of-a-factly.  Like she has heard of deceased people keeping babies awake quite often.  And like she's an expert on the proper care and the preferences of cremated remains.

Even scarier is that I'm kind of buying into the theory.  Especially after that whole thing with Allie  laughing at the ceiling and stuff during the first year of her life.  I can see my father getting bored and waking her up to play now.  

Unfortunately for Dad, she's at a stage where she's quite fearful of anything or anyone she doesn't understand or know well.  So, I imagine he's freaking her out a little bit.

My dad was awesomely nuts, so if she is seeing him, I hope she starts warming up to him and enjoying the wackiness.  His initials were JPC and he would tell people they stood for Just Partly Crazy, which was quite accurate.

I still haven't done anything with my Dad.  I had wanted to take him to Aruba when I went on my honeymoon, but I was very sick and didn't pack him.  And I forgot to consult with my siblings about it first.  So, he never made it back there.  He really liked Aruba.

I'm convinced that when the moment is right, I'll know exactly what to do.  Then I can ask my sibs and see what they think.  To be honest, I'm kind of just waiting it out to see if he tells Allie what he wants me to do with him.

How cool would that be???

If it happens, you'll be the fifth to know.  Don't be offended.  I've got four other people to contact.  I have two brothers, one sister and Theresa Caputo from the Long Island Medium to call first.  I'm sure you understand.

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Monday, October 21, 2013

Invasion of the Germs

I imagine that if you haven't been sick during the past month, you know someone who has been ill during that time.  Every year, in September, I get a cold.  And the same stupidity plays out repeatedly.


The Ten Steps of Coping With Vic Sickness
  1. Start feeling crappy and get annoyed ("I don't have time to be sick")
  2. Deny crappiness and claim the sneezes and snot are just a result of seasonal allergies
  3. Begin taking Claritin
  4. Continue denial in hopes that if you keep telling yourself it's allergies, it WILL be just that
  5. Buy different allergy medication and some other cold medication "just in case"
  6. Get really sick and listen to people tell you how you should be resting.  Ignore them.  You don't have time to be sick, remember?
  7. Blame the now-confirmed sickness on jinxing yourself during step 5 by buying that "just-in-case cold medicine"
  8. Become one with the couch and admit "I think I might be sick".  
  9. Finally take care of yourself and get better.  This is the one intelligent step.
  10. Realize that somewhere in the midst of the denial around number 4, you were kissing and hugging your family and now you've passed it on to them and they are miserable
Optional Step 11) After everyone gets better, you get sick AGAIN, but this time you blame your family instead of allergies.  Do not take responsibility!  Ever.

So, I'm at step 11 right now.  And I'm totally annoyed, which puts me back at Step 1.  The second time around the steps are modified. (Yes, there are more.  I can make up as many as I want, you know.)
  1. Start feeling crappy AGAIN and get annoyed. ("Really?? This came full circle??") Blame everyone from Step 10 above and have a reason why they are probably the host of this illness
  2. Skip the whole allergy rigmarole and immediately start bitching about how you shouldn't have been hugging and kissing people because now THEY gave you the cold again
  3. Buy multiple kinds of medication.  Sinus, Sinus and Cold, Cold and Flu, decongestants, expectorants, throat sprays, sore throat syrup, cough lozenges, and every syrup that has "Robitussin" on the packaging.
  4. After being ill for another day, go back out and buy ALL of the above shit again, but this time purchase the NIGHTTIME version.
  5. Be very particular dispensing medication, as you learned how this could go horribly wrong on your wedding day if you start medicating yourself all willy-nilly out of desperation.
  6. Sleep.  Anywhere.  You're sick and people will understand.
  7. Don't let people near you "because I'm really sick." (Oh, NOW you're careful!)
  8. Be pathetic.  Especially around those who potentially could have given the cold back to you.  If they are annoying to you because of some other reason, feel free to add extra guilt.
  9. Feel better, but keep the pathetic thing going.  Sympathy helps.
  10. Start diagnosing everyone around you who looks ill or tells you they think they have allergies.  "Oh, no!  You're SICK.  You should go home and take something and rest!" because clearly you are better at bossing people around than you are at listening to your own advice. (Stubborn much?)
I can appreciate those over the counter medications.  I respect them after overdosing on multiple kinds on my wedding day (my poor sister-in-law was summoning Saints to try to help me because there was really nothing else to do.  Only a Holy entity was going to fix that shit.)  

And I praise them after being seriously ill and pregnant and unable to take anything other  than Tylenol (because it's smart to go to a huge casino 3 weeks before giving birth....there's no germs there!  Who would ever guess I would become so ill I had to sleep in a chair? Casinos are so sanitary!  UGH!)

Allie is still coughing and it breaks my heart every time she has congested coughing spells.  Thank God for Hylands cough syrup.  The homeopathic stuff seems to work quite well and she doesn't clamp her hands over her mouth every time we give it to her, so it mustn't taste so bad either.  

She's such a little trooper.  Even feeling poorly, she still has the energy to play or go to the park.  I hope she continues to be a little BA (bad ass) into her adulthood.  Although I would prefer that she be a RBA (realistic bad ass) and recognize the symptoms, identify the cause, and treat until recovered, instead of being a SA (stubborn ass) like her mother.

I wish you all good health and I'll be back soon.  I have lots to tell.  There was traveling, along with  birthday festivities, while I was gone.  I may have an interesting little ditty to tell somewhere in there.

May the force of immunity be with you!


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Friday, September 27, 2013

Made In Where?? A Goldmine Idea For You

Here's a little experiment for you folks to do over the next few days..... look at all of the stuff you own and see if you can find something that's not made in China.  MADE.  Lots of things are developed and designed here in the US, but very few are MADE here.  You might find even another country on your clothing labels.  MAYBE.

My friend Kerrie brought this to my attention before Allie was born and I had mentioned it to Justin.  I really didn't spend a lot of time looking into it, but Justin got caught up in it.  Almost everything we purchase is fully examined by him to see where it's made.  I'm used to getting the eyebrows-raised-preceded-by-the-attention-getting-throat-clearing "See!  Made in China.  Everything is made in China. What the f**k?"

And now, our daughter is in on it.  (Minus the profanity.)

We were on vacation at an amusement park a few days ago and we decided to get some souvenirs before leaving the park.  Allie walked thru the store, flipping things over and saying, "Made in China, Mommy."  And she was right, regardless as to whether she can recognize the word China or not.  It's not a big gamble to guess where everything is made.

My daughter is growing up in a world where things are made half a world away because it's cheaper to do so.  It's all about money, not about quality or providing jobs here in our own country.  Big Business is becoming a Big FAT Sellout!

At this rate I should probably encourage her to become a Chinese Translator or an International Business Woman, because they will be very popular occupations by the time she's ready to enter the workforce.

Let me clarify that I have nothing against China or the Chinese people or the Chinese manufacturers.  My problem is with the US businesses who are forgetting about the US people in the US workforce.

But you can bet your bippy that they are thinking about the American consumers when they're ready to sell.  They hire entire departments to analyze us and figure out what they can do to get us to buy their products.  THEN they PAY people to think about us.

Think about that.  When it comes to "what can **I** get from these people?" then they care.  Before that?   ZIP!  ZERO! ZILCH! BUPKISS!

So, onto my gold mine of an idea.  It may already exist.

I think that someone needs to open a franchise called Made In America.  It should sell everything.  If it's made in the USA, stock it up!

Think about how patriotic we all are!  Remember 9/11?  How about when we send members of our military to war?  And who doesn't cry when they see those videos of children being surprised by their military parents showing up at school/sports/plays?  So, why wouldn't we beeline for a shop where everything is made here in the USA?

I would be the first person in line and I would pay more money to buy stuff there.  It all comes back to us in the long run anyway.

Or we can just go for the cheapest price and think of ourselves and "what's best for me", just like those Big Business people do.   If that's the case, we should all take comedian Kathleen Madigan's advice on the subject and "you better go out and get yourself some Rosetta Stone and learn Chinese....cuz they're a comin'!"

The Europeans are already shaking their heads and laughing at us about it.  I think we're the only ones who don't see what's coming.

ps. If you have any good sites for things made in the US, please send them my way!


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Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Guesseology

Well, it certainly has been a busy few weeks.  I sat down to blog a few times and got distracted by....well.... life.  It started to get frustrating.

The funny thing about "life" is that it keeps going and interrupting things.  Ya' kinda want it to.  The alternative is less desirable.

As usual, the weather and my disdain for meteorologists has forced me to pause life and vent.  I'm just constantly blown away by fact that these people make a ton of money for taking a big fat guess at what Mother Nature is going to throw at us next. 

However, what I saw today was the final straw.  I sit here on my soap box in protest!

These weather people may be permitted to do guesswork every day, but when they start saying, "F**k it.  We have no clue.  We'll get back to you on this one." I think they are just really pushing their luck!
Shitty Forecasting - Exhibit A
Essentially, these people had an issue with next Wednesday but not Tuesday or Thursday.  They guess every other day of the week!  What about Wednesday was so damn perplexing?

In my head I see a bunch of meteorologists standing in front of a computer, totally stumped, having the following conversation:

"Jeez.  Look at Wednesday.  What's up with that?"
"I dunno.  What do you think?"
"I'm really not sure.  This one is a real mind bender."
"Well we have to put SOMETHING down."
"I say we just put a question mark on Wednesday and see what happens."
"Works for me!  Maybe they won't even notice."
"Sounds good.  Where's the question mark on the keyboard?"
"Who knows how to type?"
(they all look around at each other)
"No one knows how to type?.....Anyone?..... Bueller?...... Bueller?"

I totally should've went to Meteorology school.  Yes, that degree really does exist.  I don't know why.  It should be called "The Guess What's Going to Happen Outside Degree." Today I could've been taking a class on the Multi-Model Ensemble Prediction of Ethiopian Monthly-to-Seasonal Monsoon Rainfall if I was at the University of Oklahoma.  

They can figure THAT out but they can't figure out what's gonna happen on Wednesday next week??!!

For those of you who want to change the field of Meteorology to include accuracy, here's what you can do to ease the pain and suffering of those who have fallen victim to the pack o' lies presented by these overpaid, professional b.s.ers.  Anyone who has been on the back of a motorcycle trying to outrun a storm on a day that was supposed to be "Sunny" knows my pain.  

I had wanted to post photos from our vacation last weekend, but due to something that is either a cold or seasonal allergies, I have the attention span of a tsetse fly when it comes to scanning thru a hundred photos.  I'll get on it as soon as I find out what I've got so I can medicate myself correctly according to my symptoms.  

Anyone who knows about my wedding drama knows that I'm now extremely cautious about taking stuff without knowing what's really wrong with me.  I have Tylenol Cold AND Claritin ready to jump into action once I figure it out.  

One of the Commandments should be "Thou shalt not combine medications unsupervised."  It would be a bit far down on the list, like the 23rd Commandment or something, but it would be a valuable one, nonetheless.

In the meantime, I wish you all a fabulous week with a forecast as lovely as the one above (should it actually be accurate)!



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Saturday, September 14, 2013

Surviving Preschool And Doggie Drags

I apologize for my absenteeism the past week or so.  I had a bit of the "out and downs".

No, not the down and outs.  I went out and ended up down.  On the ground.  Twice in 48 hours.  I got my ass kicked by two 100+ pound dogs during leisurely walks around their neighborhoods.

I am woman, hear me fall! (On the upside, Operation Fattypants has left me with 18.8 fewer pounds to hit the ground.)

The first dog was an enormous one year old black lab who thinks every living being should be greeted with Marmaduke-like enthusiasm.  
Marmaduke-like Enthusiasm - Exhibit A
Unfortunately, if you're at the other end of the leash and not holding onto a tree when it happens, you will become very well acquainted with the surrounding grass and/or shrubberies.

I feel like I'm freakishly strong, but some things are just BV (Beyond Vic).  When he saw another puppy, he took off.  And I went flying as I stumbled, tripped on the sidewalk, and did a face plant into the grass.  I was a human kite. Very attractive and professional.

The second mishap happened two days later.  I was walking a large and sturdy Swiss Mountain dog when a potential customer approached me with her two dogs.  He lunged, pain shot thru my right side and off he went, as I caught myself on a conveniently placed holly (ouch!) bush.  

The only thing I could say to the woman was a deadpan, "Wow.  That must make you feel REALLY confident about my abilities, huh?"  Fortunately this dog has done this to his owner, so if only one of my 20 visits was a fail, I guess I looked pretty good. She hired me.

Needless to say, my body was killing me.  And I discovered that if I lost use of my right arm, I'm entirely unprepared to start using the left.  My mom asked if there was anything she could do to help and my answer was, "Sure.  Could you come over around 730am and shampoo the right side of my head?"  Try brushing your teeth with your other hand.  It's like you've never brushed teeth before.

Oh! Hey!  I survived preschool!

No one had to take me to the loony bin.  I thought for sure that Justin was going to be a mess, but it was me, not him, who started crying when we got in the car.  It felt like just the other day that I was getting to know this tiny, new being in the hospital.  Suddenly, she talks, walks, and bosses us around, and we are leaving her with strangers for 2.5 hours twice a week.  How in the hell did THAT happen???
As Phil Robertson would say, "Happy happy happy."
At the open house, I joked with the teachers to not be afraid if they see Justin lurking in the woods with camouflage and surveillance equipment.  He warned them not to worry about the string that would be running from her ankle and out the door, because he would be on the other end and just wasn't ready to cut the cord.
Allie and Daddy after her first day
She did very well when we finally left and I kept hearing your words of advice (extra thank you to Madeleine M.!).  The teachers said she was just fine and asked once where we were.  When she told Allie that we went to the store to get something, she suspiciously asked, "They aren't outside without me are they?!"  Leave it her to be worried that she might be missing out while we were playing with all of the awesome toys outside.
Serving me tea at our pretend tea party at school.  Shortly after this I was sobbing in the car .
Allie has wonderful teachers who are truly lovely people.  I'm so excited for her!  I'm also sad for us.  She has officially taken her first major step toward independence and education and a social life of her own.  I really hope I am able to help her navigate all of this well.

You all should hope that I don't have any of your phone numbers because I foresee me making desperate calls saying, "You'll never believe what she just did!  What in hell am I supposed to do NOW???"
Opening her very first "big girl backpack" that was delivered AFTER she got home, of course.
By the way, Happy 50th Blog Post!  I can't believe that no one hacked and cancelled my blog account 49 posts ago.  Yous guys/Y'all/Younz keep letting me ramble on, which still amazes me.  Thanks for sticking around, even if you just got here!

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