Don't try to be nice to me, I don't like it.

A SUPER genius artist, Roben-Marie Smith (whom I adore), posted this on Facebook today:

http://betweenletters.quora.com/How-to-Live-With-Introverts?ref=fb

I love this so much and being an introvert myself, agree with almost all of it.  

The only thing I would like to add is this:

I like me in my bubble

I don't like you in my bubble

Go AWAY.

Yes, I KNOW there's a kid duct taped to my oak tree...nosey neighbors!

Well, I did it.  I raised 2 kids.  Ok, Gordito helped, a little.  Beighly Bug (our last) just graduated from High School and although I expected a lot of bittersweet tears, none came. 
None. 
Not once.
Not even a little. 
Maybe it's because I don't really like her or maybe it's that my Dr has my crazy pill dosage set to "comatose", (possibly a combination of both), but I tend to think it has more to do with the fact that we've been completely successful with our kids and I'm just really excited to see what comes next.  The amount of stress I've had during the high school years of either one of our kids has been minimal to say the very least.  I mean they didn't sneak out of the house, drink, get high, or even have sex!  Crazy, right?  Oh, I KNOW how crazy that is because I DID ALL THOSE THINGS and MORE when I was in high school!
 [YES MOTHER, I KNOW I certainly did not raise the kids I deserved... you've told me a million times.]

Bug's high school years went something like this:

"Mom, I have to study.  I have a test."
"Do you need my help?  I AM one of the smartest people I know."
"Uh...it's Algebra."
"Oh.  Well, Algebra is stupid anyway."

"Mom, I can't have a Girl Day with you.  I have to go work."
"I just don't know why you have to work so much."
"Ummm, so I can make my own money and put gas in my own car and pay for my own phone.  I can name a million more reasons.  Why is everything so hard?"
"Well, because Honey, you're more responsible than half the adults I know and you'll never be standing in the line for free handouts.  And just so you know, it's not going to get any easier."

"Mom, why are girls such bitches?  Does it ever get better?"
"Mostly it's Eve's fault and no, it never gets better."

"Mom, I had to have a little talk with my teacher after class today because she thought giving me a B on my test was gonna fly."
Oh God..."Ok, what did you say to her?  Were you respectful?"
"YES! Gawww Mom!  I just asked her to explain why she thought my answer wasn't right and she couldn't give me a good enough reason.  We argued about it into her next class period but I refused to give in.  We both knew I had a good point.  She gave it to me."
"You do know there's nothing wrong with a B, right?"
This conversation ended with Beighly giving me the how-could-I-have-come-from-the-loins-of-someone-so-completely-ignorant look.

On the other hand Brock's high school career was more like this:

Half the High School football team was over every day after school.  This was not easy, but it was fun.  They ate a lot and they did get into a few minor bits of trouble here and there like when AJ's butt went through Brock's bedroom wall and they weren't even doing anything at all except playing video games.  Or the time they all ran in the front door to tell me "their" version of why Brock's windshield had a hole in it the exact same shape as Shawn's body because they accidentally hit him with the car.  How DO you accidentally hit your best friend with your car anyway?  (I never did get to the bottom of THAT.)  Another night they thought it would be fun to put Octavio in the trunk of a car.  At just the right moment they pulled up to a stop light where he jumped out and ran screaming down the street giving the old lady behind them a near heart attack.  Try explaining THAT to the police, "Really officer, the black boy in the trunk is a good friend of theirs!  They were just playing."  And there was that time they set off a bomb caused a small chemical reaction in the pond down at the park and this Nazi-idiot, Rodney, pulled a gun on them.  (We know his name was Rodney as he had it tattooed across his chest...you must be expecting to die a horrible death with your body discovered separately from your head to feel the need to have your name put permanently on your chest.)  And I can never forget this phone call:

"Mrs. Brintnall, there's a boy duct taped to the tree in your front yard."
Me calling Brock, "Bubby, is one of the boys tied to the tree in the front yard?"
"No.  Not really.  I mean we kinda duct taped Daniel to the tree though."
"Ok, I kinda need for you to get him loose before the police show up...again."

All in all, I'd say we raised pretty normal, well adjusted kids.  And by "we" I mean mostly me because let's be honest...who really keeps Dad from killing them anyway?

...and the World's Best Auntie Award goes to......................

I'm not a grandmother.  THANK GOD I'm not a grandmother but I AM an Auntie.  I have 5 nieces and 9 nephews and I'll be the first to say I'm the COOLEST AUNT EVER!  I let my nieces and nephews have and do whatever they want when they're with me.  I look at it like I'm getting back at my siblings in a strange kind of way.  Like we're playing an awesome game of LIFE and I'm in the lead.  Let's be honest, they should all be VERY used to this by now.

I've said the craziest things to every one of my nieces and nephews at some point.  I actually remember a Christmas gathering at my in-laws where I told my nephew Stephen that I'd give him a dollar if he could find me some vodka for my lemonade.  At the time he had NO idea what Vodka was but to think that he probably asked his parents on their way home about it (or even better, his grandma) just cracks me up!
Another time I told my nephews Miah and Austin that grandma said they could get into the cookies before we ate.  Bahahaaaahaha!!  My mom was so pissed at them so then their mom got pissed at them.  Everyone was yelling and while their mom was dragging one (Austin) to the bathroom to get his butt busted I fessed up and said I told them they could have the cookies.  I mean it's not World War III people!  It's just cookies!  If they're at my house I'll let them have the damn cookies instead of their dinner because I think we need a lot more fun in this world...and because I can.

This brings me to a recent visit from my nieces.  To protect their privacy we'll call them Micky and Maddy instead of MacKenzie and Madison.  I taught them all kinds of fun stuff like Road Rage and Revenge!  On our way to Bug's graduation some TOTAL JACKASS cut in front of a HUGE line of waiting cars and got in front of us so I did what any crazy auntie does and called Uncle John who was a few cars ahead of us.  I told him the whole ugly story and about what a big jerk this guy was and then asked him to please pull out in front of Mr Jerkface Line-Cutter...AND HE DID!  Hahhahahahah!  It was the BEST!  The Jackass car people were honking and yelling and we were laughing and laughing!  You see? You have to teach your own kids to be merciful and to forgive others but you don't have to teach your nieces and nephews any of that crap!  That's what they have parents for!

When Micky and Maddy got home from their super awesome visit they got some horrible news.  Their parents split up after 15 or 16 years or something.  I was so saddened by this news and for them that I waited a day or two then texted each of them individually to see how they were handling it.
Here's how that went with the first niece (my texts are in green hers are pink):

  

I felt like that went well so I checked on the other one:

 I went on to tell them that they could probably guilt their mom into another trip down to the beach before school starts if they play their cards right.  I'm hoping to see them again sometime in July.  As for my other nieces and nephews? I can't wait to see every single one of them.  They're all a little older now so trouble is a lot easier to find...especially with an Auntie like me!

Don't accidentally text sexual references to your kids instead of your husband

Recently Gordito ordered a new surround sound system for our living room.  He was so excited about this that when it came via UPS I called him to let him know it was here.  He proceeded to beg me to hook the whole completely complicated system up so it would be ready to go when he walked in from work.
Uhhh. 
NO! 
Duh. 
Surround Sound is not something women get excited about, especially not this woman.  I get excited about way better stuff like online art classes!  As a matter of fact, later that very day one of my favorite artists had opened registration for her upcoming class so I sent Gordito this text message:

(My texts are green, his are pink)

Now, I don't usually say these kinds of things to him and I realize it's a bit crude which is why he thought it was so funny!  I then decided to call Brock (my "genius about all things electronic" son) so he could walk me through the process of setting up the stupid surround sound.  He talked me through the whole thing and before long I had the system ready to go.  I was soooo proud of myself that I decided to text Gordito and tell him, in my completely hilarious way of course...

...only I didn't text this to Gordito, I accidentally texted it to Brock. 

Ugh.

So poor Bubby, innocently sitting in his apartment probably playing some video game gets this text message FROM HIS MOTHER!

OMG!  There are just some things your kids shouldn't hear their parents say.  We laughed pretty hard about this whole thing but the moral of the story is:  Being funny has a price.

God crushed my dreams so that you could live.

I dream of Jeannie.  No, I mean I REALLY DO dream of Jeannie.  I am the biggest I Dream of Jeannie fan ever, ever, ever!  I have a picture of her (Barbara Eden in costume) right above my dressing table so I can see her every morning.

I have 2 Jeannie bottles.  You know?  The old whiskey bottles from the 60's they used for the show.

I couldn't find a pic of my bottles and it's too late to go sneaking around the house trying to take a pic of them.

I tried to talk Bug, my daughter, into dressing up as Jeannie almost every single year for Halloween and succeeded three times (although I could only find pics of 2) and the last time I talked her best friend Sammi into it as well!

Doesn't she seem so happy about her costume?

They are appropriately costumed as "nice" Jeannie and Evil Jeannie

In the show Jeannie had a dog that wasn't on very often.  He was some sort of Yorkie-mix and his name was Djin-Djin.  Because of this I wanted a Yorkie so badly that I grew up (well, I got older) and found one through a friend 6 years ago.  Her name?  Gin-Gin.  Different spelling, same pronunciation.  I LOVED Gin-Gin so much that...well, let me try to shorten this part of the story a bit by showing the whole family of three.  Major Nelson, Jeannie and Gin-Gin (Sookie is just visiting).

Major Nelson, Jeannie, visitor Sookie, Gin-Gin

If some of you are not very familiar with the show I forgive you.  If you've never heard of it I want you to leave my blog and never come back.

Ok, this brings me to my childhood prayers.  My Aunt Linda took me to church.  I didn't know much about all that weird stuff happening in church, but I DID hear the Pastor say that if you prayed, God would grant your wishes.  Ok, I know NOW that wasn't exactly the way he put it but after reading about my Jeannie obsession you can understand why that's exactly what I heard.  I remember asking my Aunt Linda after church if God gave us what we asked for and she said, "Most definitely!", so Yippppeeeee!!!! tomorrow I was going to wake up and be a genie!

I prayed that night.  I squeezed my eyes shut and said, "God, tomorrow when I wake up I wanna be a genie."  When I woke up the next morning I immediately started trying to BLINK some things around in my room.
Nothing.
Nothing happened.
What?  How could this be?
I continued to pray that prayer for some time afterward and I was NEVER a genie when I woke up!  So I asked my Aunt Linda again why God didn't always give us the stuff we prayed for.  I can't remember her exact words (she had no idea I was trying to become a genie) but I'm sure she told me all about God's will and about when we ask for certain things we aren't always ready for them and something else about prayers not being selfish.  Ohhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!  Ok, I got this.

"Dear God, I really want to be a genie.  If you make me a genie I promise never to use my powers for evil and I will always help people.  I'm SURE I'm old enough to handle genie powers and I've thought about this a LOT so please let me be a genie when I wake up.  Amen"

Nope.
That didn't do the trick either.  I prayed that very prayer so many times that it's burned into my brain.  I wanted so badly to be a genie!  I thought about it all the time.  I wanted to help people so why wasn't God just granting my wish?  Ugh!!!

It wasn't until very recently that I realized just how wise God is.  You see?  God knows that's not something I could handle in the least.  Not even a little, tiny bit.

Because if I were a genie:

I would have my own lane on the highway and I wouldn't have to share with anyone!
I would have a Hobby Lobby in my garage.
Child molesters would have blue skin and no penises.
Churches would all burn down.
My brothers would both have a third eye and be covered in warts or feathers or both.
Women probably wouldn't be allowed to drive.
My mom would've been even MORE lenient (and for those of you who know me I'm sure you're trying to imagine me without the small amount of discipline I DID have)
My sister Tiff would've been in a constant state of Asthma attack...or mute.
Guys in my high school would've had periods.
Cigarettes would be illegal.  Gross!
My poor ex-husband would be living as a woman.
My neighbors house would've been lifted right out of the ground by a tornado and sent to Oz (without the shoes).
Clowns would all burst into flame.
I'd be the Queen of America...by America I mean Texas because who really cares about all those other states anyway?
Men would not be able to grow mullets.
Those stupid Sister Wives would have to say what they REALLY think about each other on TV. (in all fairness I've never seen the show, I just have an uncanny ability to immediately recognize freaks)
The girl who goes to school with my daughter and is mean to her would weigh 622 pounds.
White stuff such as sour cream, cream cheese, mayo, dressing, and chip dip would all be on the black market like moonshine once was.
There would be several people struck by lightning every day.  Cashiers, postmen, idiots who can't park between the yellow lines, teachers, doctors, waitresses, EVERYONE IN HOLLYWOOD...

...so, do you see?  Do you see why God didn't turn me into a genie?  You'd all be dead, that's why.  So if I were you I'd say a little thank you prayer tonight.  Maybe something like this, "Hey God (or Universe for all my freak, weirdo non-believing friends who are still in denial despite having found themselves alive even after reading this post), thanks for crushing all of Candy's childhood dreams so that I may live another day to cut her off in traffic or go through the 10 items or less line with 16 items.  Amen"

If this post pisses you off enough to do your own research, I count that as a win.

I love Jesus.  I don't mean the dude with the neck tattoo working at the taco stand but THE Jesus.  I have a lot of friends who are non-believers so I'm not one to tell them what they're doing "wrong" everyday.  We have Christians* for that.  You know?  Christians?  Those people who spend an hour at church every Sunday and also work in the nursery?  The ones who know absolutely EVERYTHING there is to know about God...including what He's thinking and feeling at all times.  They are very quick to let you know that God is most definitely not a Democrat and by NO MEANS liberal in any way at all.  They know you should go to church.  They know how often you should go to church.  They even know exactly how much money you should give the church. As a matter of fact, if you have a friend like this there's no reason to read the Bible for yourself as they are more than willing to give you their favorite parts as a way to live YOUR life.  (*not all Christians are psycho...just most of them)

Do I believe in God?
Oh yeah I do!  He's shown up for me so many times I couldn't even begin to list them.

Do I believe in church?
No.  I don't.
--Ok, I don't think the following rant applies to the 100 year old church on the corner with 22 members (for whatever good that is doing) so let me try again.--
Do I believe in church? 
I don't believe in Mega Church...or modern church if you will.

 I know "church" is mentioned in the Bible and that many people believe today's church is that very thing.  I do not.  Why?  I've seen church.  I've seen church from the inside and it's ugly.  Church is a business.  It's purpose, like any business, is to thrive.  It is meant to be profitable.  This is why the pastor (wearing the typical "hip pastor" uniform of ripped blue jeans and an untucked button-up shirt) stands on stage urging you all to bring someone with you next Sunday.  Someone from work or parents from your kid's school.  This man, telling us we are to go out and make a difference in the world and in the lives of those around us, probably 1) sends his kids to private christian school, 2) has a wife who does not work but has regular lunches for the women's ministry (while her Christian nanny and God-fearing housekeeper take care of her home), and 3) himself hangs out with other pastors all day.  So when he says "go out into the world" he really just means YOU and your family, not he and his.

The next week he is telling you to "up" your giving because the church needs a bigger building.  He'll tell you that God has given him a vision and that it's going to take all of you to make that vision a reality.  Doesn't anyone ever wonder why God only trusts His vision to the pastoral staff?  If it's God's vision why didn't we ALL wake up with it this morning?  After a really good sermon you all start to believe this is what God wants from you. A good pastor is a good salesman and while you are all digging in your purses trying to figure out a way to give another hundred dollars to your church, your pastor is off with his family on his second trip to Disney this year.

What is my purpose here?  To bring the church crashing to the ground?  Not exactly.  I DO believe that despite our own agendas in church today, God is actually able to get in there and change some lives but my wish is for people to start listening to God and not just their pastors.  Now, I don't think all pastors fall into the completely judgmental, stereotyping I have given here.  Some of them have a heart for Jesus and for people and even though I still may not agree with everything they are doing, I can appreciate that they are doing it with their hearts in the right place and for (what they believe to be) the right reasons. Does this make it OK?  Church for profit?  No.  I can only pray for those I believe to be misguided and hope those who disagree with me will offer the same courtesy.

BUT.......
If you really DO believe God is leading you to give a hundred dollars why not find someone to give it to?
Someone "unworthy".
The Atheist who just lost his job.
The stripper who's struggling through a divorce trying to raise 3 kids.
The unwed teen at your daughters high school.
The homosexual who is paying his own way through college.
The reason it's hard for us to help these people is because we honestly believe we are better than they are.  We believe we are living our lives the "right" way therefore they deserve their situation.  My prayer is that you ask what God would have you do.  That's all.  Just ask Him.  He will make it very clear to you.

In the mean time, God told me that He wants you to give me a hundred dollars so email me and I'll send you my PayPal information.

The left lane is for passing only...or for sports cars, but only because they're usually passing.

I am a road-rager!

If you'll notice, the angry man in the picture IS driving a convertible BMW.  Coincidence?

Every single time I leave the house, regardless of my destination, I'm going for a record time.  I need to be the fastest person to have ever gotten from St Timothy Street to Wal-Mart or the post office.  I treat every single adventure out of the house like a qualifying lap for Talladega.

Now to be fast, one must be aggressive.  By aggressive I mean I am definitely NOT the person you want driving a bus full of 1st graders to a field trip or, worse yet, your grandparents to their Cardiology appointment.

So in my NEED for SPEED I sometimes get thoroughly worked up over some idiot who pulls out into traffic then proceeds to go 5 miles under the speed limit.  Or the stupid woman who's swerving on and off the shoulder because she's trying to add Sweet N Low to her coffee, apply mascara, and get the right Pandora station on the radio all at the same time!  I tend to become completely over-the-top enraged when some stupid ass is putting along slowly in the passing lane (to clarify, people in Texas don't know what a "passing lane" is therefore every driver in Corpus Christi is a stupid ass).

This brings me to my trip to work yesterday morning...

As USUAL, I left the house 5 minutes behind schedule so to make it up I hit the gas pedal.  I was bopping along at my very typical 80 MPH when I came upon a huge cluster of traffic on the freeway.  Ugh!  What now?  No doubt it's some stupid ass WOMAN putting her mascara on IN the passing lane going 5 miles UNDER the speed limit!  After darting in and out of the 3 lanes of cars I spotted the problem up ahead.  A police car driving along leisurely IN THE PASSING LANE!!!!!!

[I forgot to add that one of my really BIG pet peeves is people who are afraid to pass the cop on the road!  I've seen cops driving under the speed limit and no one will pass them.  REALLY?  Cops are just people, they're like you and me but with guns....oh wait....we're in Texas.  Ok, cops are just like you and me!]

Well, I decided I'm going to pass them all and so I did.  I passed them going about 70 and then jumped over into the passing lane to continue on my merry way.  So I got my Pandora right where I wanted it and went to check my mascara in the mirror when I noticed the cop had sped up and is practically on top of my bumper!

        !!!!!!!!ENGAGE ROAD RAGE!!!!!!!!!

I immediately threw up both hands in a "Really?  You're riding my bumper?" gesture!  As I was yelling my obscenities to this person responsible for keeping our roadways safe, I saw that he was PISSED as well.
Oh good!  A fight!  I LOVE a good road fight!
So I was yelling at him and he was yelling at me until he decided he could see me better if he got up beside me.  At this point, we were both flying down the freeway, stacked full of rush hour traffic with him pointing his finger at me saying God knows what!  That's when it happened.  That's when I snapped.  I pointed my finger at him and I said "**** ***". {Ok, I can't really say exactly what I said here because the rule for my blog is if I wouldn't say it to my kids or my mom then it won't go on the blog (Yes, I know, I'm pretty open with my mom and my kids but they're ALL grown-ups) and yes, I know that should probably be more of a "whole life" rule and not just a "blog" rule but it's not.}

Ok....where were we?  Oh yeah...
Well, the officer  seemed to be such an expert lip-reader that I thought for a moment he might even be deaf.  This only fueled his fury and at this point he rolled his window down to continue yelling at me.  I'd had enough.  Although I do enjoy a little roadway altercation now and then, this guy had gone too far.  So I picked up my phone, glanced at his unit number and proceeded to call it in.
When he realized what I was doing he got behind me and flipped on the lights.  (That was pretty smart if you ask me because if some chick is calling in to complain about you and you've got her pulled over she's more likely going to be the one to look like a psycho)  I obviously pulled over, not only because my days of trying to out run the police are in the past, but because I could not wait to tell this guy what I thought about him!
It took him F-----O-----R------E------V------E-----R  to get out of his car as I now realize he was trying to compose himself.

 He walked up and told me so very nicely that he was only trying to get my attention so that I would slow down.  So I let him have it.  Both barrels!  "Really?  That's how you get a motorists attention?  By riding their ass then pulling up beside them and yelling at them?  Distracting me from the road does not seem like the safest thing to do.  No.  You were furious and letting me have it.  That's what happened back there."  He responded very calmly with, "No, I wasn't angry at all.  You were just going too fast.  You were doing 68..."  I cut him off here, "68?  Are you trying to tell me you pulled me over for going 68 in a 65!!??  Unbelievable!  The truth is you pulled me over because you saw that I was about to call in over your harassment!  I believe you're an arrogant jack-ass who got pissed off because someone had the nerve to pass you.  I believe you wear that uniform thinking it gives you a right to be an asshole whenever you want to whomever you want.  I'm NOT going to sit here and get a lecture from you about my driving... not after seeing your driving!  You either cite me or let me go."
He asked for my license and insurance.  Took it back to his car.  Brought it back to me and said, "I'd like to apologize.  I believe this was all just a misunderstanding.  Drive safely."  When I didn't give the obligatory thank you he said, "Your insurance card expired on the 3rd.  Have a good day."  and he walked away.

DAMN IT!!!  Damn you insurance card!!!!  Yeah, I didn't get a ticket but in a situation like that you want to be right, 100% right!  I was in the right and I knew it but why did my insurance card have to be a week overdue?!!!!!!

Oh, I know why.  I know it because I'm so familiar with the feel of God's foot to my forehead.  More often than not, when I get my smug, you screwed up and I didn't attitude God has to kick me back into my place to remind me that no one is perfect... not even me.  I'm just really freakin' close.