Monthly Archives: February 2006


UGH!! I went to Popeye’s this evening because I was just too lazy to cook. The Husband is in the field that means I can pretty much give the kids ice cream and we are set in the dinner department. Anyway…I went to Popeye’s. It was like being at home. In New Orleans they would ask you if you want white or dark meat. Whatever you would answer there would be no more of that particular meat. I happened across my Brother and K so we started to chat. Of course we were acting up in the line and there was this lady in between us. At first she was just staring at me and them shaking her head. We had to explain to her that I was not just some crazy woman who happens across NCOs and start to mess with them. I am HIS SISTER I said. She was then starting in with us …asking us what the breast upgrade was for. I told her it was for silicone chicken breast…bigger but plastic. That made her smile…for a minute. She then orders ahead of me…a 20 piece meal, all spicy, with all corn. First they ran out of spicy chicken…15 minutes to fry. She would wait. Then on to the corn…there was only enough corn left in the establishment for one large order of corn (3 ears). There was no more green beans and there was only 1 pie left. She was upset, but adjusted her order accordingly. On to me…I thought I was being slick by saying I want MILD chicken, but please no thighs. The guy taking the order told the lady…no thighs, only breasts, legs, and wings. She nodded her understanding and started to do my order. I asked for two pies…panic struck across the poor dear’s face. Okay…1 pie…I can live without the damned thing. I stepped away from the counter for a minute and started to talk to my family. At that point I discovered that K was the one that order two of the three pies that was left. I messed with them and had a bad omen. I just KNEW that she was putting thighs in the box. I go to the counter…excuse me, no thighs please! She says okay and I see what looks like a thigh being put in my box. I decide to ignore my eyesight and let her be. The order is filled and I ask…”Are there thighs in my box??” She looks at me and says…I think I put one in there. NO THIGHS! I HATE THIGHS. There is suspiciously no more chicken left in the chicken pit so I leave thinking that I have one thigh in the box. I will give it to The Boy…he will eat anything. So what do I find when I open the damned box of chicken?? A box full of thighs…7 fecking thighs out of a box of twenty. Dammit! I guess I will never escape the “We ain’t got no beans, YO!” folks. I hate fast food. This has made me make the decision to cook my own damned chicken from now on…
On a good note I got a chance to spend time with family and I called my Mom and Dad. So that makes up for all the thighs that was in my box.
I am about to watch a movie with my teen. I will be back later…

So Let It Be Written…So Let It Be Done…

This is it.
So it has been written, so it shall be….The CODE
1. Thou shall not rent the movie Chocolate.
2. Under no circumstances may 2 men share an umbrella.
3. Any man who brings a camera to a bachelor party may be legally killed and eaten by his fellow party goers.
4. When you are queried by a buddy’s wife, girlfriend,
mother, father, priest, shrink, dentist, accountant, or dog
walker, you need not and should not provide any useful
information whatsoever as to his whereabouts. You are permitted to deny his very existence.
5. Unless he murdered someone inyour immediate family, you must bail a friend out of jail within 12 hours.
6. You may exaggerate any anecdote told in a bar by 50
percent without recrimination; beyond that, anyone within earshot
is allowed to call BULLSHIT. (Exception: When trying to pick
up a girl, the allowable exaggeration rate rises to 400
7. If you’ve known a guy for more than 24 hours, his sister is off-limits forever.
8. The minimum amount of time you have to wait for another guy
who’s running late is 5 minutes. For a girl, you are required
to wait 10 minutes for every point of hotness she scores on
the classic 1-10 babe scale.
9. Complaining about the brand of free beer in a buddies
refrigerator is forbidden. You may gripe if the temperature
is unsuitable.
10. No man is ever required to buy a birthday present
for another man. In fact, even remembering a friends birthday
is strictly optional and slightly gay.
11. Agreeing to distract the ugly friend of a hot babe that
your buddy is trying to hook up with is your legal duty. Should
you get carried away with your good deed and end up having sex
with the beast, your pal is forbidden to speak of it, even at
your bachelor party.
12. Before dating a buddy’s “ex”, you are required to ask his
permission and he in return is required to grant it.
13. Women who claim they “love to watch sports” must be treated
as spies until they demonstrate knowledge of the game and the
ability to pick a buffalo wing clean.
14. If a man’s zipper is down, that’s his problem-you didn’t
see nothin’.
15. The universal compensation for buddies who help you move
is beer.
16. A man must never own a cat or like his girlfriend’s cat.
17. When stumbling upon other guys watching a sports event,
you may always ask the score of the game in progress, but you
may never ask who’s playing.
18. When your girlfriend/wife expresses a desire to fix her
whiny friend up with your pal, you may give her the go-ahead
only if you’ll be able to warn your buddy and give him time
to prepare excuses about joining the priesthood.
19. It is permissible to consume a fruity chick drink
only when you’re sunning on a tropical beach… and it’s
delivered by a topless supermodel… and it’s free.
20. Unless you’re in prison, never fight naked.
21. A man in the company of a hot, suggestively dressed woman
remain sober enough to fight.
22. If a buddy is outnumbered, out manned, or too drunk
to fight, you must jump into the fight. Exception: If within
the last 24 hours his actions have caused you to think, “What
this guy needs is a good ass-whoopin”, then you may sit back
and enjoy.
23. Phrases that may NOT be uttered to another man while weight lifting:
“Yeah, baby, push it!”
“C’mon, give me one more! Harder!”
“Another set and we can hit the showers.”
“Nice ass, are you a Sagittarius?”
24. Never hesitate to reach for the last beer or the last slice
of pizza, but not both. That’s just plain mean.
25. If you compliment a guy on his six-pack, you better
be referring to his beer.
26. Never join your girlfriend/wife in dissing a buddy, except
when she’s withholding sex pending your response.
27. Never talk to a man in the bathroom unless you’re on equal
footing: either both urinating or both waiting in line. In all
other situations, a nod is all the conversation you need.
28. If a buddy is already singing along to a song in the
car, you may not join him…too gay.


It is the Sunday before the Husband is to go to the field…and what am I doing?? Nothing. I should be doing something…working out, cleaning, something needs to be done other than sitting on my ass. I have the new movie Doom…it sucks ass, but The Rock is in it and I wouldn’t care if he was reciting the alphabet. It is The Rock. A beautiful thing to look at on a daily basis. Speaking of Doom I have the game that goes with it. I am not much of a game player (even The Sims have suffered) but I am interested in playing it. I am hoping that the game is better than the movie was. So I have all these things to do…my husband is going to the field, the teens are arguing again, the cat is asleep, and I am sitting here like a bum. I guess I could do some housework.

This is what I get for making like I was sick this morning.  I was looking around the house and I decided that I would take off some time and get the laundry done.  I just don’t feel like doing it this weekend and basically the week that I have been having…I would rather stay home and wash clothes.  Anyway, I called work and told them that I was feeling queasy and I was going to stay home.  The old stomach flu excuse.  About an hour later I decided against burning my leave because I want to wash clothes so I went in to work anyway.  Now here I sit, really feeling queasy, eating some chicken soup with crackers.  I am feel like I am going to puke my guts up.  The power of suggestion, huh?  I was watching a documentary last night about physics.  It was on HBO and it was really interesting.  It showed the power of suggestion on water molecules.  This artist filled bottles with distilled water, took pictures of the molecules with an atomic microscope, placed labels on them and left them to sit overnight.  He then took pictures of the molecules the next day and they had changed.  The body is made up of mostly water.  I suggested myself into being ill.

Yeah, whatever.  I am at work and I guess it could be the fact that I am regretting that I am here instead of at home relaxing and cleaning.  😀

Since I am at work I have some things that I need to get taken care ofI will be back later.


I really do not feel well and I don’t want to go to work. 4 hours. My stomach feels like it is about to fall out of my body, but I don’t see the point in calling out for 4 hours. This sucks. I need to figure out what I am going to wear and try to get my ass to work. I just don’t feel like it…


I just ordered some of the most delicious sushi I have ever eaten. This is for the snacks that the kids are always looking for when I come in from work.  It is tons better than Burger King…(which I will probably get them anyway) and to me much healthier.  I can’t wait to tear into that stuff when I get home.

Speaking of home…

I have so much to do in that house today.  I figure I have about two hours before the husband comes in and wants to go to the Gym.  That will give me time to get the floors done and have the Slaves pick up their stuff that they leave all over the place.  I try to not nag about their rooms, because I am of the mind if it is in your room then it should stay there.  When things are coming out of your room into the hall then something has to be done.  Period. I have already started washing the linens and now I will move onto the rest of the crap that is floating around with their names on it.  It is amazing how quickly your Offspring forget their spoken language whenever work is involved. 

I have to pick up my Sushi and get to the Gym….



This is getting old….

The position has been filled. Although you were not selected, we appreciate your interest in civilian employment with the Department of the Army.”

I am getting so tired of seeing those words on the site that I visit for jobs. It is starting to get ridiculous and I am starting to get depressed.  It looks like I am going to have to stay here and bide my time.  I don’t hate where I am working, I just hate the situation that I am in…part time.

On a better note another place picked up my resume and it is for a step up. More money and I don’t think this one requires a Secret Clearance.  It would really be nice if someone would pick me up at a higher grade.  My fingers are crossed that these people look at the vast experience that I have and give me a chance.

Moving on…

Yesterday I decided to go to the PX and look at what they were offering in the line of clothes.  I have to say that this PX has a better selection for women.  In Germany you could choose “Whore Uniform” or “Grandma Moses”.  When I say whore uniform I mean..ridiculous short skirts, see-through shirts, spaghetti straps, extreme low rise jeans, etc, etc. And by Grandma I mean purple flowered things, double knits, and the shiny polyester crap.  There was no middle ground there…in THIS PX there is a middle ground and I found the cutest jeans and tunic top that make me look artsy.  I am an artist at heart, so I like the jeans that have the look of being torn and patched up, faded, and boot or flare cut.  The tunics explain themselves…I especially like the ones that have Earth colors on them and lots of tourquoise and pinks.  I also like sandals and flip flops.  Anyway…you have an idea of what I am talking about.  My husband called me Poca-Poca (Pocahontas…my son used to call Pocahontas Poca-Poca when he was a baby.  It just stuck) when he saw me in the latest outfit that I picked up (at 75% off thank you).  I have the Bohemian (size 9) jeans on, the beautiful tunic, my sandals that match the tunic, silver jewelry, and my hair flowing.  I look extremely Hispanic or like a Poca Poca.  The only thing that is out is my toes..they are painted and my feet have been pedicured.  My ass is not hanging out, my tits are not overflowing the shirt that I am wearing, my makeup is not gaudy, and I am not DIRTY LOOKING.  Remember the DIRTY LOOKING part for later.  I flounce into the office (it is casual Friday and it is Grocery Store) thinking that I look pretty.  The Grocery Manager came in and completely loved my outfit.  In fact she is going to the PX to find the same jeans.  Once she made the comment that she like the jeans that is when the comments started from the Hags in the office.  Once of them told me that no self respecting Secretary would look like I do.  Mind you this Old Cow is about a million years old in dirty tennis shoes and double knit everything.  The other one said that she liked my shirt but my jeans..well she wouldn’t pay a nickel for them.  This one is in a DIRTY, FILTHY T-Shirt and DIRTY JEANS with dirty tennis shoes (the bottoms of the sole are coming off and they flap when she walks), no makeup on, and it looks like she hasn’t washed her hair in two weeks.  By the way, she does smell like she looks.  I know that I am being a bitch here…but that shit hurt my feelings.  I don’t sit there and critique your outfit.  I walked in and they all started to rip into me.  I have worked hard to get the body that I have.  I do not shop for clothes that look like they belong on teenagers but I do shop for clothes that suit my personality.  I will never wear a skirt up my ass no matter how fine I become.  I am 36 and right now I can pass for my mid twenties.  I couldn’t say that a year ago.  A year ago I was eyeing the double knit pants and shirts with X’s behind the number.  A year ago I was feeling sorry for myself and the fact that I was half way through my 30’s and I saw gray hair.  A year ago I didn’t take any interest in my appearance and in myself.  A year ago I looked like them.  I could have ripped into their looks, but I just smiled and said…well I COULDN’T SEE YOU IN THIS OUTFIT.  I really couldn’t see them in the outfit that I am sporting.  They would look ridiculous…just like I would have a year ago.  Now I can wear them.  The jeans are cute…someone told me that.  I promptly responded…”I’m cute, that is why the jeans are cute. I make everything cute.”   Guess what??  This time I believe it!!

I have some things that I need to get off my desk.  I also have some Sushi to pick up…



I made the mistake of telling my boss that I would go to the High School tonight and “help” her with Financial Aid Night. We are offering scholarships from the Commissary to Military children. I really do not feel like doing this, but it is extra hours and I am going to get night differential for doing it. The Husband offered to come with me. (yes I know that is a shocking thing) and it took me a minute to realize what the hell he said. I guess I could take him up on it since I can’t stand sitting by myself making small talk with that woman. I am really starting to not like my boss. Don’t know why…I just find her unpleasnt to be around. Oh well, I am sure I will put my finger on these feelings.
I have two teenagers so tell me why my living room looks like a Hurricane went through it. As I am getting older I am having less patience with upset. I think I will crack the whip and make them earn their keep and their lives in this house. I may even have to write another letter to the teens thing. It keeps me sane…

Err…as sane as I can be anyway. It is getting close to the time where I have to leave here and make the mighty quest to the High School. Since it gets Advanced Dark around here, I am taking my chances hitting any various critter that makes the Desert its home. The chicken in the microwave may serve as a great bribe for the Coyote that decides to attack me on my way to the High School door. I hope anyway…
I will be back later


So I have been missing for a minute. A lot has been going on with me and I have been busy tending to the different fires of my life. I just checked on my IRS refund and I found out that I “may” have an offset amount. Someone has jacked part of my refund check. I am trying to remember any debt that I may have …and it is escaping me. I hate when that happens because the IRS has no idea WHO has taken it and HOW much has been taken. The recording and the website is reading and sounding like gibberish to me. I guess I will find out just how much when Friday comes around. They are just saying that your refund MAY have been offset and IF it applies to YOU then there are forms that you can fill out, you should be notified beforehand, blah, blah, blah.
It is good that I am working, so I am not going to freak that much…but I am still freaking.
Things have GOT to get better around here. Someday, I hope.
The Girl decided that she was too sick to stay at school yesterday. So sick in fact that she COULDN’T go to the Nurse, but instead, decided to leave the campus with her friend. Of course the school calls me to ask why The Girl isn’t in school. They didn’t call to tell me that she walked off campus, but to ask me why she was absent. The Child was in 1st Period then suddenly she was gone for 2nd Period. I didn’t come by to get her…so why call me and ask me why she isn’t in school when your records show that she was there for the 1st Period. Did she evaporate? Did she go into a space-time continuum? Tell me people at the school…what happened? I was a tad bit surprised and it was relayed in my voice so the Secretary tells me that she will call me back. That is when I discovered that she walked off campus. Instant headache and blood pressure elevation. My jaw tightened and I actually felt the gray hair start to come in. I looked for the child all over Post and then decided that she would probably end up back at the school. There is really no place for her to go here and we are too far away from the Gates for her to go into the City. The school was interesting. When I get there they look at me and said “Well did you find her?”, then proceeded to ignore me. Now, I understand that this is my child, BUT when I send her to school I expect the people there to be able to corral the kids. Keep them from roaming off the campus. When I was a kid in school, the teachers didn’t play that shit. If they called you and you ignored them they would go to you and make sure you KNEW that they had spoken to you. The teacher that saw (and let) my child walk off campus told me that he told them to stop. The Girls (Oh yes, she had a friend that was with her. She was sick as well) ignored him and continued walking. The teacher told me that he said stop again, but they didn’t stop. He tried everything that he could. By saying that wonderful powerful word “stop”. I wanted to know if they used guns or knives. Did the Girls threaten him in any way that would have prevented him from going up to them and taking them (physically) into the principal’s office? I guess they heard the irritation in my voice. My point is this…We are living on the border. There are kids taken daily from this area. The school takes the responsibility of the children when they are dropped off at the school in the morning. They are especially responsible when a TEACHER sees the child walking their asses off the campus and only says “stop”. Needless to say I was beyond pissed. I was about to leave the school, call my job and tell them that I would not be coming in for work. I was planning on canvassing the whole Post to find The Girl just so I could kill her. It was at that moment I saw The Girl and her Friend walking up the path with The Friend’s Step-Father. He didn’t look at all concerned that he was bringing his daughter and my daughter BACK to school. He simply told me …”Well I told them if they had stomach aches then they should have gone to the Nurse and not come to my house.” Then he fucking smiled at me. I don’t know this man from a can of paint and he creeped me out big time. Any parent would have been beyond pissed off that their child decided that they would just leave school, but this guy wasn’t fazed. His kid does this all the time. MINE DOES NOT. My color started to show when I saw The Girl and they put me in a conference room with her so I could “discuss” her reasons for ditching. When I came out…Creepy Guy was gone, but not before he expressed his opinion of me to the Secretaries. He didn’t understand why I was so upset. The Girls were fine and they were back at school. I told the ladies that I didn’t know this man and my child should know better than to leave the school. I was worried. The secretaries agreed with me and said that this guy was strange and that his kids do this all the time. They thought it was great that I was so angry. I don’t care either way…if they were pleased or not. The Child knows better.
Anyway…I got a call from the Principal and he gave them a whole month of Saturday school. His logic on kids that skip…He will not suspend them because that is what they want. They are ditching school because they don’t want to be there. So he gives them extra school. Good man in my opinion. 😀
This is long…I am sorry. This happens whenever I don’t post for awhile and I have lots to say. It seems to me that I am being tag teamed by the Kids. One messes up while the other one is good. Then suddenly it is switched and the one that was good is now the one that is messing up. The one that is messing up is suddenly good. I think they are trying to see who can make my hair white first. They will never succeed as long as I have hair dye available to me.
I am at work so I need to wrap this one up…I will be back later.

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