Mudder Feekie!

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Well, shame on me!

The mailman has become my arch nemesis, and I no longer look forward to seeing him come around here anymore. Again, the mail has disappointed me!

Today I recieved my jury summons, and the butterflies in my stomach started up. What’s strange is that my mom and I were just talking about how I’d never been summoned before and I thought to myself how neat it would be. When I expressed my interest all the horror stories that I was told quickly made me change my mind.

It’s obviously not going to be like when Carrie from Sex and the City went to Jury duty and got to bring her lap top, right? It couldn’t be that easy. Bob was no help with his jury duty horror story about some man telling him that he knew where he lived or some such. I know it will be boring, I know I’ll hate it, but why can’t the court house be closer? Downtown is craptastic! All I have to say is, September 25th better be crazy people day so I have something to look at whilst I’m bored out of my mind.

Like this!

Anyone have any interesting jury duty stories?

29 is the new 50?

I knew I was aging, but come on people! When did 29 become the new 50? The other day I ventured downstairs and found my mom laughing at me as soon as I made an appearance. I knew I looked bad, but come on, your family is suppose to understand and accept, no?

I arched a brow at her and she said, “You got something very special in the mail yesterday I forgot to give you.” I watched her suspiciously, “What?” She started laughing again as she handed me the envelope that was already opened. She could barely get the words out, “Your AARP card!” My jaw dropped. “Whaa?” I snatched up the envelope to see and sure enough… my AARP card, or the placement holder of it, was attached to a letter explaining that the people of AARP had no records of me signing up for my card and that I was missing out on my benefits.

To quote, “As a member, you’ll have the resources and information you need to get the most out of life over 50.” Yeah, I’ll show you the resources I have to make your life over 50 a lot more painful.

I’ve decided to send in the form to see what happens. I’m going to be totally honest about my birth date, etc. I just want that form letter to say, “We’re sorry, we had an Alzheimers moment and thought you were our age.”

** Important name and number information is colored out so none of you old people steal my benefits. Get your own dern card!


For a while now I’ve been my family’s tech support when it comes to computers. It’s not something that I really minded at first, infact I remember feeling so good about helping them out, but when I’m sitting in a flea infested apartment and the thermostat is set to sub-zero it starts to become less enjoyable and more craptastic.

Yesterday my mom wanted to know about something, I forget what, and wanted to get the information by telling me to call B-renda and have me go over and look at her computer. At this stage in my life I feel a little like a mindless drone, because I did just that. Whatever mom mind trick she used was good. So evening time yesterday we headed over there so my mom could talk to her and I could look at the stupid computer. I thought, stupidly, this will be a peice of cake. She’s totally computer stupid so her problem is probably something so simple I can just pop in and pop out.

3 hours later… I gave up and went home promising to come over tomorrow.. which leads me to today.

Her computer has some messed-uppedness going on that my knowledge was strained, and I know my way around a computer. I tried everything I could think of and still nothing was changing. That loser that “fixed” her computer before sure fixed it good. And when I ask her things like, “Who is your DSL provider?” I got answers like, “I ….. donno.” How can you not know who you pay every month, for heaven sake? So I installed Firefox as a “solution” to a problem I likely made worse and then proceeded to try to nudge my parents out of there. My eyes were slowly swelling shut as she lit more and more smelly candles, and my sneezing increased. At one point I remember pinching my mom and mouthing “Leaving now.” to which she said, “In a minute.”

40 minutes later I started packing them up myself. My eyes felt like a million eyelashes were in them and they itched like you wouldn’t believe. We get to the door and B-renda is still talking. The little area in front of their door is kind of smallish and through my congestion I smelled her stanky breath. A cat must have crawled in there, pooped, and then died somewhere between her teeth because it was rank. It’s something my mom and I have noticed before, but I think a new cat was lured in by the old smelly breath and then got trapped and died in there too because it was quite horrific.

So horrific that I’ve created a little image of what it was like for your enjoyment (please note her chin stubble!).


Meghan and her Boys

I finally made it out to Meghan & Brian’s today to visit everyone and see the newest addition, Adler. The driving part is sucky, but really not all that long if you have some good music and someone to gab to on the way down. According to yahoo, it’s about 2hrs and 50mins if you’re a grandma and do the speed limit. Contrary to what my boring writing skills and stories might portray, I…uhh…”keep up with traffic” (if traffic is going at least 5-10mph over the speed limit).

I made a stop at the middle point rest stop (the last one before you have to hold it or pee yourself) from Blahzvillage to TooFarAwayville on the way back and noticed an abnormal amount of odd looking people today. I think this is a bad omen of some sort, but I haven’t determined why, or what kind of badness it could be, yet.

Anyway, I made it there and back in one peice and took several pictures. Here are a few of my favorites:

No, he’s not growling, he’s showing me what noise a pig makes.

Elek giving Adler a kiss.

Meghan’s guys.

The newest snugglebug.

Feel free to coo, I understand.

Happy Birthday, Adler!

Today at 7:13am little baby Adler came into our lives. I got a call from Brian, who sounded really happy, and later talked to a rather sleepy but happy sounding Meghan. I’m so excited to meet him and I’ll post some pictures as soon as I get some!

Hopefully all will go well tomorrow, I wasn’t able to go today because I couldn’t leave my mom stranded without a car all day and have Rob around. Van promised he’d have the other car fixed late today but it didn’t happen. I felt like such a tool having to call Meghan and Brian so many times and then in the end not come to see their new pride and joy (and my future God son).

Work is work though and when my parents really need me I have to be here. I know Meghan and Brian understand….and to make it up a little I bought more presents for Adler and one very special one for Elek. Well, atleast it made me feel better.

Don’t worry Adler, the clover between the posts is good luck so the creepiness won’t get anywhere near this post.

Creepy McCreeperson

Today started out like most normal days, nothin’ too taxing, ran a few errands, and my mom and I were sitting out on the deck eating lunch when the phone rang. I glanced at caller ID and when I saw “pay phone” I knew who it was right away. Rob. He’s Bob’s son, and the creepiest thing on this planet. I mean just sitting here I get the heeby-geebies and need a shower I’m so disgusted.

Short story of our past: My mom and Bob were married not all that long, and we’d just moved into this house. I’d only met Rob once at their wedding, but not since, and I didn’t interact with him a lot there. So I was likely around 16-17ish when all this occured. So, he comes to the house for a visit… I think it was some holiday… and he stayed in the guest bedroom. During that time the entire upstairs was basically mine. My bathroom, my bedroom, and the guest bedroom where the only rooms upstairs and no one really came up here … unless there was company like when Rob visted, etc. Well, I used to keep my bathrobe in the bathroom on a hook to use when I got out of the shower. So, day one of Rob’s visit I notice that my bathrobe tie is missing. I don’t really think anything of it at all, and go about my business. The next day as I’m headed downstairs I happen to glance over and notice my tie in the guest bedroom all coiled up. Hrm? I pop in and grab it, stick it through the loops of my robe, and go back downtairs. That night, *poof* no bathrobe tie. Now I’m suspicious. I glance in to find it coiled in the guest bedroom again, but this time I leave it. I don’t want to know what he did with it, nope…nope I don’t.

My mom promised me long ago that I’d never again have to deal with the discomfort of Rob staying at the house. He pee’d with the door open, he dressed with the door open, and I was a young innocent girl. She wanted him no where near me, thank God.

So today, the phone rings and my mom goes in to listen but I put the phone on mute (like my mom and I always do when Rob calls) and listen from the deck. Rob says, “I’ll be there kind of late, do you mind if I stay there for the night?” I get up and call in the house, “Mom…?” but she doesn’t hear me because Bob is already asking her and putting her on the spot. “Would you mind if Rob stayed?” She sounds like she doesn’t know what to do and says, “Ummm…sure.” And I scream at the phone, “Nooooooooo!!” but obviously no one can hear me. When she ventures out I say, “Mom….” and I’m honestly baffled, “…what the f*ck?” the word just came rolling out. She laughed and said, “There wasn’t anything I could do.”

Even though I think he’s a crazy nut job and probably a molester or worse, I have to admit that she was backed into a corner and had no choice but to accept. I’ll be getting pictures of the little snake in the grass and I’ll be sure to post them for all to enjoy.

Door’s locked. Chair is placed in front of it. I think I’ll be ok.

*snuffle* Night, all.

Bob the Arsehat

A few days ago Mr. Magoo (aka Bob my stepfather) apparently fell backwards while going down the one step into the library. As my mom describes it, he took a step down and fell back and kind of rolled, which judging by his ball-shaped body, doesn’t surprise me. He’s the light monitor and must turn on and off all lights in the house as he sees fit. For example, if Bob enters the kitchen and turns on the light and I enter it after him, it doesn’t matter if I’m working with molten metal in there, he will turn it off and leave me in the dark when he leaves. It’s a small example of his selfishness, but you get the point. Anyway, this is what he was doing when he fell.

Yesterday as we were leaving the resturant after taking Bob’s daughter Lisa to lunch I noticed his rather large old-man elbow and gimmaced. I didn’t pay much more attention because I didn’t feel like losing my lunch, but apparently the golfball sized elbow wasn’t normal. When my mom saw it today (when he woke up at 2:30pm) we made a bee-line for the urgent care center. Fun.

After an hour there, I was reading a book, my mom was reading a magazine and no one was really talking until Bob spoke up and said, “I had a dog that listened to me once….. but she died.” What the bloody hell? After the last throw-down argument about his remarks about my dog, why would he dare say something like that? I was so angry that I could feel my eyes start to water, which only made me more angry because showing emotion in public is bloody embarrassing. “Why would you say that?” He said, “You said no one listens to you.” I was trying hard not to poke at his elbow as I answered. “No one was talking Bob, and no one was especially talking about the death of my dog.” He got this pout that I hate because he’s too mudder-feekin’ old for this crap. “You did say!” My mom tries to smooth things over, “He says that all the time.” I glared, “Never. He’s never said it. Stop defending him.” She looked guilty and turned to Bob, “Why would you say that?” He bowed his head, “I donno.” and he took her hand. She kept scolding him like a little boy and it was only serving to fuel the fire. “Where you talking about your dog [insert name here]?” He smiled because she wasn’t angry and patted her hand, didn’t answer, and watched tv. I tried to let it go, but how could someone act so freakin’ stupid? It didn’t help that I’d had a dream about sitting and petting Tresse today, which was suddenly all I could think about.

My mom says, finally, “Jenny, do you want to go and come back when we’re done?” I nodded and flung all the things she needed and took the keys and got out as fast as possible. Every eye was on me as I left because I was obviously crying.

Bob fractured his arm and tomorrow we go see the doctor B-renda, my brother Van’s man-gina wife, works for. Don’t worry, I’ll bring my camera.

I Hate Water Beds

This morning, after finally getting to sleep at 4am, the phone rang around 8:20am. My nephew Christopher, the “I know everything because I’m 13” delight, says, “Hey, we’re coming over.” Could someone pinch me? Seriously, what the… ? Then I hear my brother in the background, “Tell her we’ll be there in like a minute.” I stare longing at my bed and sigh my ok before hanging up. Making a HUGE cup of coffee I wait for the impending doom that is the craziness whenever Van and his kids are here for a visit. It’s amazing we’re from the same woman. We were both raised exactly the same, yet he’s a hillbilly and has some kind of hick accent and I have no accent and don’t say things like “Get ‘er dooone.” unless I’m joking around.

Anyway, as I’m pondering this I hear a bunch of crazy screaming coming from the front door’s direction. It’s amazing how sound travels through several walls, wooden doors, and a sliding glass door and still makes it to me with perfect clarity. “Answer the door!” I hear, and then it dawns on me. This is why the neighbors hate us, right? Uhh..yup!

So, still not fully with it I make my way to the front door and Van literally pushes me aside to get in and Chris follows. Right then it hit me like a wall of pain, no… not just a reality check that today would be horrible, an actual wall of pain that was in the form of the storm door they didn’t bother holding out of my way as they pushed past me. Now I’m grumpy. Pain + hyper people in the morning does not = goodness. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” I asked. They both continue on their paths out to my little haven where Van spots my beautiful coffee. “Hey, can I have some?” Dude, why do you hate me? is all I can think. “This is the last of it.” The morning passes and before I know it, I’m getting dressed before I can shower and I’m heading to Kmart for a hose because we have to get rid of my mom’s water bed that has now sprung a leak.

No shower + no sleep + hyper people + spaztastic mother = unhappy Jenny.

Now the bed is drained, thanks to my geniousness of faster draining tools. *back pat* Hopefully the bushes in the front of the house don’t die because of the conditioner in the bed! Anyway, then we’re talking about getting a new bed from Costco. It must happen TODAY because for some reason this whole situation spazzes my mom out. So I tell her we’ll just tie the mattress to the top of the Jeep. No biggie, I’ll go 15mph and it’ll be golden. Van says, “A king size mattress is like as big as a lane of a road. You can’t.” I look at him like he’s the idiot that he is… and then I notice my mom nodding in agreement. “No it’s not.” I said. Then Van goes into some dumbarse explination that it’s impossible… yadda yadda. Whatevah.

So Keith calls me and I tell him about it and he actually goes out and measures his street. Oh my gawd it makes me laugh right now just thinking about it. Could you imagine a bed as wide as a lane in the road? You’d have to have pit stops on your way out of bed just to get a drink it’d be so long a haul. It’d be 14ft wide! So as I’m laughing hysterically my mom breaks into tears, “You’re making fun of my perdicament and it’s not funny!” Huh? What the piss? She says, “I don’t have a bed, Jenny!” all dramatically. “Yeah, and this is something to cry about because? You sleep on the couch every night anyway!” Because of Bob’s snoring.

After all is said and done, I made fun of her the rest of the day for crying and I kept repeating, “I don’t have a bed, Jenny!” all dramatically. She laughed about it….eventually. The bed has been hauled out, and the new one hauled in and she’s where? On the couch. Are all mom’s this crazy or am I just lucky?

Making the Changes

My last couple reviews weren’t all too hip on the “anime chick” of my last blog template, and several times people would say, “You should think about adding a bunny.” but I didn’t want a blog that looks so cutsie you wanted to retch. So here she is, I’ve named the bunny Fernando because …..I want to. I’m normally not one to give in to the pressure of a crappy review, but the picture was getting old, and it was more for spring and I’m soo past spring. I want cooler weather already.

I’ve still got some tweeking to do here and there with the template, but you get the general picture of what it will look like. I’m just too tired to keep up the work right now, having slept on the loveseat last night thanks to my wonderful brother David. He decided that at 1am he needed a smoke, and I woke up in the midst of an allergy attack that pissed me off beyond belief. I’m so tired of being angry about his smoking when he’s been asked not to a quadzillion times. I understand it’s a habit, but my gosh, other smokers don’t find it a problem to accomodate the people that don’t care to smell that crap. Anyway, talking about this is like beating a dead horse, utterly useless and probably boring to read about.

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy Fernando as much as I enjoyed making him.

Here with Keith

Well, Sunday I fly home to restart the drama that is my home life. I’ve had a hard time relaxing here because I’ve been constantly worried about my mother, home alone (plus Bob, but he sleeps all day), and no one to really talk to.

It started out roughly, with me having a really hard time sleeping, and about mid-week I had a mental meltdown and spazzed at poor Keith, who I must say took it in stride and didn’t let me totally freak out. I suppose when you’re worrying about everyone but yourself it’s hard to suddenly be thrown into worrying about only you and all your thoughts that have been shelved. I can’t say that I’ve been able to totally destress but I have to say I have a lot less stressed than I was before I came.

Infact the night Keith arrived in Blahzvillage she and I had a fight about……fighting! So hopefully this little vacation from each other will do me some good, and her.

I hate to leave, it feels a little like leaving a piece of me behind. I know it’s mushy, but deal with it.