Friday, October 30, 2009

It's all about me...

So, a couple of days ago, OK, it was Wednesday, I posted that Sparky had given me another kreativ blogger award. Well, I want to be sure and do the things I need to so that I can post it. Which means I get to tell you guys another 7-10 things about me. How excited are you?! I know right! Anywho...just a few other things first...

1.) Do not go see Paranormal Activity in theaters. It is not the scariest movie ever made so that is some seriously false advertising. It's not even the second scariest movie ever made. Sean and Michael (Mo's ex-bf) went with me to see it and they both thought the entire first hour and a half were boring. I didn't mind it so much because I'm one of those people who likes to just watch other people. But seriously the ending was the only scary part. Plus it was predictable and the guy was irritating. Please, guys, if your gf is being stalked by a demon, lets not assume your BA enough to taunt it and take it on. Because seriously, it's a demon. Like from hell. You will not win this battle. Just saying...

2.) Please go and visit my daughter's new blog. She is Lulu of Life, Love and Luluness. I helped her out with the first one, interview style. I do promise she will be entertaining.

3.) Tune in tomorrow for my Halloween post. I have promised Mark a scary story.

Okay...back to moi...

1. I was voted "most likely to get divorced" in high school. Seriously. I had a habit of dating someone for two weeks and then getting bored. Really, it was just all about the chase for me. I plotted conquests like a campaign general. And I usually got whatever boy I set my sights on. (did I mention I was younger, thinner and prettier then??). One of my ex's coined the name "The Ice Princess" and it stuck. Of course, it only boosted my popularity because every boy wanted to be the one who managed to hold my heart. I'm no longer proud of this and I only mention it here so that I can say...prediction unfulfilled...I've been married 20 years in February. Stick that in your yearbook!!

2. I am an awesome cook. I refuse to be modest about it because well why should I be? Everyone should be really good at something, right? I really enjoy cooking, and I like it best when there is a large group at the table. So that there are more people to enjoy it! I really like new recipes that I either found or made up. I cook alot, not just because I enjoy it, but because it's cheaper then frozen food or fast food. I'm also a budget cook. I can do a really good meal for a price well below what you'd pay at a restaurant. It's almost like a game with me. Like name that tune? Only it's cook that meal. Haha.

3. I almost became a psychiatrist. I majored in Psychology my first time in college and wanted to be a psychiatrist. People always told me their life stories anyway. Figured I should get paid for it! Switched majors to English when I went back to school after having the kids.

4. My 19 year old son, CJ, has autism. He is amazing. Having him in my life completely changed who I am. I am a way better person now. He taught me compassion and empathy on a whole new level. The divorce rate for parents of autistic children is 80%. It is hard on the entire family. But I firmly believe CJ's disability is what cemented our relationship. When we got his diagnosis we were sitting in a behavioral pediatrician's office two hours from our home. I was 6 months pregnant with our third child. I was 23, Hubby was 21. The doctor said "your child has all the classic signs of autism" and I promptly burst into tears (psychiatric background remember?). Hubby looked at me and said "is it that bad?" and I nodded "yeah, it's that bad" at which point he teared up. It's one of the few times I have ever seen my extremely manly husband cry. I had never loved him more then I did at that moment.

5. I still love my husband. After nearly 20 years and all we've been through, he's still my rock. He drives me crazy probably 90% of the time. He's nowhere near the boy I married. Some changes were for the good. Some were for the bad. But when it comes down to it...if I'm hurt or scared or sick...there's nobody else I run to. And isn't that what love is about?

6. I really really like my children. They are some of my best friends. I choose to spend time with them not because I have to, but because I want to. No one gets me like they do.

7. I sew. Yeah, like from scratch. I can make things. I know it's kind of a lost art and not alot of people do it anymore, but I enjoy it. I have a machine and I can sew by hand (although threading a needle seems to get harder every year). Until my kids were teenagers I handmade every costume they had for Halloween. Except 1996. I had a staff infection in my lung that year and spent most of the month in bed. They were so freakin excited about their store bought costumes. Ingrates.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

My new and fabulous idea...

Okay...so the whole "awards" thing got me to thinking. Scary, right? I know! Why do we have to wait for an award to recognize good blogs? Or anything for that matter. So "spread the word Thursday" was born. Every Thursday from now on I'm going to "spread the word". No, not like the word of God or anything. Mostly because he really doesn't talk to me. And also because there are soooo many people already doing that. Nope, I'm going to link to my favorite blog of the week that day. And it would be awesome if others did this as well. Because it would give your readers a chance to go see another truly awesome blog and also because it would give someone a nice recognition. If nothing has struck your fancy this week in the blog world...feel free to shout out a great book, movie, TV show. Anything. I don't have a fancy button thingy yet...but I'm working on it, okay? (Geez you people expect so much...)

So...here are my shoutouts:

Amazon.com for letting me pre-order Stephen King's upcoming book Under the Dome set up for release in November for only $9!!! For real. I got free shipping too. I cannot possibly tell you how freakin excited this makes me. Let's just say I was jumping up and down and clapping my hands at midnight the other night!

Heather, my bloggybuddy, for her amazing post. Not only is there a great spooky story, but also pictures of Stephen King's house. Go Heather!!!

And my friend Brandi who wanted to go to the haunted house last night. And then once we got there had to be drug in (even though I'd already plied her with peach margaritas for courage). She was like "this is a stupid idea! who's idea was this?! And I'm like "um...yours! You're going in!" And so she did. We volunteered my hubby for the lead, then me, then her, then her hubby brought up the rear. She hid her face in my sweater the entire time yelling "I'm not looking!" True story. It wasn't even that scary. My hubby jumped once. And I mostly giggled. At Brandi. The scariest part was when they forgot to open a door so we accidentally went into this little walkway which was pitch black and a dead end. So we were stuck in a very small space in the dark. That bothers me. Eventually a guy with a light rescued us. But not until we banged on the walls looking for an exit for awhile. I'm sure they were laughing at us. It was a good time.

So, let me know what you think of the idea. Play along if you want to. I'll try to make a cool button or something.

♥Spot

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

I'd like to thank the academy...

Sorry dear readers (commenters and lurkers alike)! I spent most of yesterday with Mo before she headed back to Iowa. She made us play Clue and watch movies. Dang, I miss that girl. But my attempts to lure her back home with food and mommy cuddles have so far not exceeded the lure of her boyfriend and the freedom of living on one's own for the first time. *sigh*

And I don't have much time this morning as Sean and I both have Dr. appts today. Blah. But we will raid the video store and pick us some fast food so it won't be a total loss.

So today's post is um...well hopefully not a "toot your own horn" kind of thing. But then again it might be. But it's really meant to be a humongous ginormous THANK YOU!!!

First...I recieved another tag for an award. This one came fromSparky. And it is also a Kreativ Blogger one, but since the image is different, I'm still going to accept it. And gratefully, I might add. Because it's my blog and I do what I want!!! So thank you Sparky!!!




Second...Mindy gave me this amazing review over at her blog~

"My cyber-friend, the blogger-extraordinaire a.k.a “Spot” with What Passes for Sane on a Crazy Day has tagged me to answer 35 questions with one word because she thinks I’m “Over the Top!” Which, all I can say is, that speaks volumes coming from her. She’s flippin’ hilarious and authors one of the blogs that I find myself looking forward to reading on a daily basis. Read it. You’ll be glad you did."

And third, Danica gave me a huge shout out and routed people to my poem!~

"You need to go here CLICK RIGHT HERE and read this poem.

I think this is really REALLY good, and I wanted to share (with anyone who didn't already follow "Spot") her delightfully creepy poem.

Just do it - OKAY?? "

I was stunned. Speechless even. Ok, only for about three seconds, at which time I began screaming "hey everybody!!! Come here!!!" Which really only consisted of Sean and the cats because they were the only people here. But Sean did come into the room. And then I pointed out how awesome I was. And he said~

Sean: oh man. Now your head's going to be all big today. You're going to be walking around going "I'm Spot!" in this "aren't I fantastic?" voice. And no one is even going to know what you're talking about.

Me: Oh they know.

Sean: You're right. Maybe you should get a costume. And a cape. And the next thing you know there will be a huge heart symbol in the sky instead of the bat symbol. And there will be "I ♥ Spot" t-shirts and everything.

Me: Oh my! You think so?

Sean: No. So are you going to take a shower or what?

Okay, so he's a smartass. But I totally like the t-shirt idea...

thanks again everyone!
♥Spot

PS- I will post the required things for the blog award next post!

Monday, October 26, 2009

Come in for a "spell"

Okay! I do not have hardly any time today. Mo (Lulu) is home today and as usual when she's home we have to go to town and run her fifty two errands. Yes, I know that she's old enough (I mean she lives on her own now. Kinda) to go alone but I enjoy spending the time with her. So, I have a ton of things I'd like to blog but they will have to wait. So today I'm going to give you what I hope is a treat. It's in keeping with my "October Ghosties" series but it's not a ghost story. It's not even a story. It's a ...wait for it...poem. Hey! You in the back of the class! I do not want to hear any groaning! Poetry is good! And you're going to like it! (And if you don't, don't tell me). Just kidding. I'm open to all constructive criticism.

Anyway it's just for fun. We were driving to pick up Mo from girl scout camp one year (I think she was like 10, so eight years ago) and it was an hour and a half drive from where we live. Along this one back road (and I do mean back road) we passed this old cemetery on a hill. And me, being me, and extremely bored, I started writing a poem in my head. And the following poem is what I came up with. I'm also giving you a picture, to set the mood. I hope you enjoy!



The Spell


In an old dark cemetery
Upon a lonely hill
Beside a fallen oak tree
I feel night’s eerie chill.
The moon is full above me
The ground wet beneath my toes
To stand here is to court Death
Or so the story goes.
Two candles sit before me
A stick of incense burning near
I chant a secret litany
My voice rings loud and clear.
It is not fame or fortune
Nor beauty that I seek
It’s for Love I’ve made this journey
To the graves by Deadman’s Creek.
My lover lies with another
Her skin so ghostly white
As I call upon dark powers
To end her life this night.
She stole him with her magic
A bold and daring plan
But not a game she should’ve played
For I hold the winning hand.
Her breath will cease, her soul take leave
Before the dawn’s first light
And I will have my sweet revenge
With the work I do this night.
Her death will not be called a crime
No fingerprints to be found
Although my ma calls it a sin
To wish her in the ground.
And as they put her in her grave
Beside the coffin I will stand
As we walk away that day
I’ll take back my lover’s hand.
It’s sad to have it end this way
A part of me will miss her
Backstabbing lying slut she is
And yet she is my sister.*
So if you’d steal another’s man
Bear my tale in mind
It’s hard to tell just what might happen
If you choose to cross that line.


SMT 07/00


*My sister has never ever tried to steal my man. Just wanted to be clear on that.

And obviously, when I copied the poem it had a date on it. So I guess it was 9 years ago. =]

Hope you enjoyed,
♥Spot

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Ghosties Again...

Ah, so I took a break from blogging yesterday. Sean is still got the cough he's had for ten days now and I wasn't feeling great either so we crashed on the couch and watched scary movies all day. And um..yeah...you guys know me too well...I did still do two loads of laundry, make beds, play laundry room CSI, make supper and shower and smell good. I know, my idea of a "lazy day" is slightly skewed. But it was a good day!

So for a horror movie update~ 100 Feet is a movie about a woman (Famke Janssen) who murders her abusive husband in self defense. She's sent to prison but then changed to house arrest. She can't move out of the 100 foot range of the alarm box without setting it off. As it's a huge ass brownstone in NY, this doesn't allow her to go outside. To make things worse, her husband's old partner (Bobby Cannavale) is pissed she killed her husband and harasses her to no end. But worst of all...the Hubby comes back in ghost form and returns to his habit of beating the crap out of her. I thought it was an okay movie. I wasn't ever bored and didn't poke fun at it. However, Sean gave it a thumbs down. He thought the girl was ridiculously stupid and that Famke Janssen is not only a bad actress but unattractive as well. I tried explaining that she used to be a supermodel but he didn't care. So I guess all in all this movie gets a shrug.

We also watched The Haunted Airman. This one is a BBC production starring Julian Sands and Twilight Heartthrob Robert Pattison. If your only goal is to stare dreamily at Robert for an hour and a half, rent this movie. If you want a good plot, solid acting, and a few jumps~ rent something else. The movie was confusing from the beginning. You never do really know what's real and what's a figment of Robert's mind. But he does a lot of that "brooding" look. An hour and a half of my life I'll never get back. Thumbs down from both of us!

Okay, on to an "October ghostie" story. And this one is PG so even Cynica can continue reading...

I live on 745 acre Boy Scout Camp. Of course a lot of it is timber and there's a 40 foot lake. There is a house on the property that was built 26 years ago for the last Ranger to use. We now reside in the house. Here's a pic:



Kind of got that snow white cottage thing going on doesn't it? It's deceptively small looking however. It's like an optical illusion or something, because once inside it's really big. Like 3600 square feet big. Anywho, it's not haunted. Not in the least. I'm not even afraid to be home alone at night. I can read ghost stories, watch a scary movie, nothing. It's safe.

But the garage is a whole other story. The garage is set across the drive from the house. It's one of those Morton buildings, you know made of metal and totally modern. And big. It's a two car garage. My husband insists during the winter that I park my car in there. Which does save on scraping off ice and snow and what have you. But I must admit that the garage scares the pudding out of me. The ground it sits on was where the original house on the property was located. It was an old farmhouse that was already there when the Boy Scouts bought the property over 50 years ago and of course the house was much older than that. I have no idea what the history of this property is but that is a spooky piece of land. Inside they built a little room in the front, but it doesn't extend all the way across the garage so theres a little cubby hole area (if cubby holes were 4 foot by 4 foot) in the front on the side. The light doesn't really reach this area so it's always dark, even in the daytime. And that is the area that bothers me. Not because it's dark, but because it feels wrong. Now, my hubby says it feels fine. And none of the kids seem to mind it either. But Mo's friend Alex, who's 20 and my "all things ghostie" buddy and another friend went in there one night close to midnight to see if they got any impressions. Both boys high-tailed it back into my house in 10 minutes. Yep. Creepy feeling.

Now, you'd think I could easily avoid this garage and that would be that. And now, I can. But when I worked outside the home, I worked retail. Which meant alot of my hours were at night. That meant coming home to a dark garage. Now, I'm no chicken. I didn't call my hubby every night and demand he meet me at the garage. Nope. (Not that he would have anyway...) I'd come home, pull down towards the garage, stop, get out and open the garage door (yeah, we lost the remotes) and pull in. Then, with the car lights still on, I'd get out and turn on the overhead in the garage. Turn the car off, shut the doors. Then I had a choice...turn off the lights and walk through the small room to get to the door. Or turn off the lights, make a mad dash out the large garage opening and pull the door down fast. Yep. That's the one I did. I would then walk all the way around the garage on the outside to get to my house. If I gone out the front door of the garage, theres a path straight to the house. An always cleared off path. Not me. I was that scared. I'd wade through snow, rain, whatever in order to bypass going out that door. I always felt like something was right behind me when I used that door. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and I'd fight the urge to look behind me (Never look back!!) or to break into a run.

One night, I came home late. It was pitch dark. In fact, hubby had forgotten to turn any of our outside lights on (and let me tell you people, the country is waaaayyy dark at night). So I did the usual, pulled up to the garage, got out and opened the overhead, pulled in. Then I gathered my courage, got out of the car and screamed bloody murder. Something had touched my hand!!! I nearly had a heart attack on the spot. Then I realized that the dog was out of her pen and had her nose in my hand. And was giving me the "why is my human screaming" look. Well, actually since it was so dark, I was pretty damn happy to have the dogs company. =]

So there you go. We've actually talked about doing some EVP sessions and taking some night photos in the garage. And the little cemetery from the slide show. If I get the gumption up to do it...I'll let you know.

good scares & night screams,
♥Spot

Friday, October 23, 2009

Kreativ? Who Moi?

Actually, whoever thought up the spelling for this award is the creative one. But I'm just happy they made the award, and someone was nice enough to pass it to me to worry about why they spell funny or go all grammar Nazi like Amber on them. So without further ado~ The Kreativ Blogger award~



What I'm supposed to do is write 7-10 facts about me then pass the “Kreativ Blogger’ award on to other favorite bloggers of mine. So read on...if you dare:

1.) This one's pretty obvious if you have read any of my previous blogs this month. I am addicted to all things "ghostly". I love horror fiction, horror movies, haunted houses (yes, even the cheesy man made ones), ghost tours, documentaries about the paranormal and the shows on TV. But not all of them. I looovee Ghost Hunters but not Ghost Adventures. I will even watch grade "B" horror movies just because I am so addicted. October is by far my favorite month and Halloween my favorite Holiday. I can give you a lecture on it's beginnings, traditions and whatnot. One day I'm going to do an overnight lock in and one of America's most haunted locations. I even found a tour group that does them! Woot woot!

2.) I believe firmly in reincarnation. I know this seems to go with number one, but it really doesn't. I have this strong belief for two reasons #1 was a dream I had once that was so vivid and lifelike I woke up crying and missing someone I had never met. #2 is because I had this amazing sense of familiarity when my family visited Scotland as a teen. I could pick things out, tell where we were and just felt like I'd "come home" the whole time I was there. #3 is because of my youngest son. He spoke accurately and with great detail about his sheep farm he used to have in the Australian outback when he was three. Right down to how his daughter broke her arm and the helicopter had to come to take her to the hospital because it was so far away. At 3!! He would walk around in his little cowboy boots shaking his head and looking confused and saying "I'm a stranger around here". It was eerie. We were briefly involved in a study that the University of NC was doing at the time.

3.) I hate red stuff. Drinks, candy, food. Not a fan of the red stuff. I only eat green, orange and yellow Starburst or Skittles. I won't touch the purple, pink or red ones. I don't drink red Kool-aid. Or eat red licorice or lifesavers or cough drops. I don't know why I have this odd aversion. But I do. There are some notable exceptions...I love "Fruit Juicy Red" Hawaiian Punch. I eat ketchup every now and then. I love marinara. And I love red wine. Weird, huh?

4.) I have Fibromyalgia and the worst immune system in the world. And yes, skeptical people Fibro is a very real disease. You can click the above link for more info. I was skeptical myself until it stopped me in my tracks and derailed my hustle bustle lifestyle. I try not to let it keep me from doing things I love but I do have to make some concessions. My body and I are engaged in a wary truce. I have a theory that this is how you differentiate people with very real chronic conditions and hypochondriacs. People with real chronic conditions try very hard to function as normally as possible, they are still sympathetic when others are in pain, and they try not to complain because they are convinced that everyone is sick of listening to that bullshit. Hypochondriacs milk any excuse to stay in bed. Tell you all about it because they want sympathy. And are quite sure that they have the worst pain/sickness/misery of anybody anywhere. I have a very low tolerance for hypochondriacs and whiners.

5.) My secret crush is...drum roll please...Stephen King. Mmmmk. So not a secret. I have read every book, article, short story, made up biography every written by him or about him. I also kind of crush on his son Joe Hill. It's not really about looks just about their fantastic minds and creative abilities. My friend Roxy went to Maine this summer and I actually asked her to take a picture of the front of his house. Unfortunately, she didn't get to. I don't even know what I would have done with it...but I still wanted it. When I see a trailers for a good scary movie I often wonder if Mr. King is anticipating that same movie. Or if he's going "why didn't I think of that?!" Crazy. Yes. Obsessed stalker fan? No...pshaw.

6.)I'm easy to please. Really. I get excited over the silliest stuff. A new movie. A new book. I love the anticipation! A pretty view. A new episode of my favorite show. A good conversation with someone. Making a new friend. A really good coupon. My cat who purrs when I just look at her. Someone else cleaning something up in the house. A snickers bar. A compliment. Really really easy to please.

7.) I'm nearly always cheery. I'm that friend people go to to get cheered up. I can find a silver lining in anything. And no matter how bad the situation, I can make you laugh. This is a choice I make. I waded through a very dark period in my life and now I make a conscious decision to look for the "happy" in everything. I allow very little time for "feeling sorry for myself". And I get angry with people who wallow in their misery. Everyone has bad stuff happen (and be sure, that someones stuff, somewhere is way worse than yours!) I think you acknowledge that stuff, give yourself a small time for grief, and go on. And happy people live longer. It's like a scientific fact. Seriously. Read this if you don't believe me.

8.) I'm not religious in an organized go to church every Sunday kind of way. I'm spiritual. I have my own beliefs and I believe in them. I don't just say them because I think I'm supposed to. I also do not try to shove them down anyone else's throat. And I don't think they are the only true beliefs. I respect everyone else's beliefs and their right to differ from mine. I love people with strong beliefs, even when they are different. Because passion for what you believe in is what gets you through tough times. Okay...except when that passion makes you strap on explosives and kill people in the name of your beliefs. That's obsession. And I can't really see any higher being condoning that. Like "that's right...you take out those non-believers!" Yeah, can't see that.

Okay...I could probably go on for days...but I'm stopping here. And passing the torch to others! My peep picks are:

1.) Mark
2.) Carolyn
3.) Danica
4.) Gay guy/Straight Guy (yes that means two separate posts!)
5.) whispering writer
6.) Heather
7.) Hildi(NO! This is not like giving it to myself! I'm giving it to Hildi, for her funny if somewhat infrequent posts!)

Thanks to everyone who wades through my oftentimes ridiculously long blogs and comments and returns! Thanks again to Amber for both of my awards. They look so pretty in my sidebar! And I can't wait to read the posts of the bloggers I chose!!!

♥Spot

PS- yes, tomorrow we're back to the scary!

They say revenge is sweet...

but validation tastes better. Okay, maybe they don't say that but I just did. Which, therefore makes it true. Because if you can't trust what you read on the Internet, what can you trust, really? Anyway...back to my validation. I'm going to have to break my "October ghosties" series today because I have been tagged with my very first blog award. Okay, two blog awards! (I know right?! I was totally jumping around screaming yes! yes! yes! to an empty house because well, I'm easy to please and very excitable. Just be glad I didn't get so excited I peed down my leg or anything like little dogs do.)

Anyway...many many thanks to Amber at Everyone's Working for the Weekend for my awards. First up the Over the Top award.



USE ONLY ONE WORD! It’s not as easy as you might think. Copy and change the answers to suit yourself and pass it on. It’s really hard to use only one-word answers so try your best.
Tag 6 other bloggers and let them know that you think they are 'Over the Top'!


1. Where is your cell phone? desk
2. Your hair? Ponynub
3. Your mother? interesting
4. Your father? protector
5. Your favorite food? Mexican
6. Your dream last night? weird
7. Your favorite drink? Vodka
8. Your dream/goal? published
9. What room are you in? family
10. Your hobby? everything
11. Your fear? Loss
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? writing
13. Where were you last night? home
14. Something that you aren’t? thin
15. Muffins? Apple Cinnamon
16. Wish list item? treadmill
17. Where did you grow up? everywhere
18. Last thing you did? Laughed
19. What are you wearing? Jammies
20. Your TV? off
21. Your pets? cats
22. Friends? crazy
23. Your life? chaotic
24. Your mood? happy
25. Missing someone? Mo
26. Vehicle? Camry
27. Something you’re not wearing? jewelry
28. Your favorite store? bookstores
29. Your favorite color? purple
30. When was the last time you laughed? earlier
31. Last time you cried? Sunday
32. Your best friend? Molly
33. One place that I go to over and over? doctors
34. One person who emails me regularly? Jaci
35. Favorite place to eat? Maya

For this award I am tagging:

1. Kathryn
2. Jessica
3. Mindy
4. Mark
5. Sue
6. Danica


Have an "Over the Top" day!!! I will do the other award in a separate post otherwise this one will be super long!!!

♥Spot

Thursday, October 22, 2009

The Pantry Ghost...

So I'm a little pressed for time today. Had an early appointment today, ran to the grocery store, video store, and brought Sean home McDonald's (because I'm the most awesome mom in the world). We watched a spooky movie while we ate it (of course). And it was actually pretty good. It had Tim Daly, you know that guy from that old sitcom Wings? I've always thought he was a cutie. Tom Arnold was also in it. And it had a perfect blend of spooky and funny to it. But of course the ending was a huge let down. I hate endings that leave you going...but wait? What? That's the end? But if you want to give it a go, for the laughs at least, it was called The Skeptic. It's on the new release wall at Blockbuster. Anyway, then I laid down because I had a massive headache, which I'm going to blame on the rain. Then I had to straighten the house really good because Roxy (my bff) is coming over tonight and bringing Pizza. Yay Roxy!!

But I didn't want our ghost streak to end so I'm going to share one (well two, actually) of my favorite ghost footage videos. I've seen a tremendous amount of ghost hunting shows, books, websites, and footage. These videos scare the living daylights out of me!!! I don't see any way they could be faked. Oddly enough, I first saw them on an episode of Maury. He did a ghost show and my hubby was kind enough to dvr it for me. He watches Maury while getting ready to head out to work in the mornings and I'm often still asleep. The video was taken by the owner of the home, who I understand put the house up for sale very soon after this. As would I! Supposedly there is a documentary on the pantry ghost, but I can't locate a copy.

The videos are self explanatory if you listen to the audio and they are well worth the viewing. Unless you get scared easy...Cynica...you might not want to do this! So I hope you enjoy them as much as me, my daughter, my son and my sister did. Even my hubby was mildly impressed.





Be sure to listen to the audio in this one:


I guess there are some videos of people trying to debunk this one. I watched and was not convinced. It didn't sound like a plausible debunking to me. I suppose it's possible it's faked, but that doesn't mean that it is!

Enjoy!
shivers & goosebumps,
♥Spot

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

So about that haunted house...

I decided to take Mark's suggestion about a theme. Although, I don't think I have enough personal ghost stories to continue the rest of the month, I can indeed come up with something. But I do have at least one more ghostly encounter of my own...


Right about the time I got pregnant with Molly we decided we needed more space than the two bedroom apartment we were living in. Now, in the apartments defense, it was a great apartment and it really wasn't small. But it was pricey. And since we were going to have very small children we realized that daycare would take up most of my salary and I wanted to stay home with the kids anyway. So we started looking around for a new place to call "home". I've always been lucky when it comes to finding new places and it was probably only a week in that I came across a two bedroom house that was going to cost less then our apartment. And it had a yard! A big, fenced in yard. In fact...it was pretty much perfect. There was a den complete w/fireplace, a large great room , a kitchen, a bath with double vanities and then upstairs were two bedrooms and a half bath. It was right across from a school and a block and half from a really nice park. It was everything we wanted for a really decent rental price. It was owned by a real estate agent and he was a super guy. Really sweet and a great landlord. We moved within the week.

The only immediately apparent downfall to the house was that the washer and dryer went in the basement. It was a dark concrete basement that really hadn't had much done to it. And it made me nervous. Like seriously nervous. There was small room built into the corner of the basement that had at one time been "secret" but had since been uncovered. The light never seemed to reach that corner and I hated turning my back on it. Unfortunately, the washer and dryer were set in the opposite corner of the basement and to do laundry I had to turn my back on it. I would finish my work down there as quickly as I could and then practically fly up the stairs (pregnant belly and all) and slam the door shut, convinced something had been watching me. My hubby found this behavior hilarious in a twenty one year old girl.

The second thing I noticed was that storms made me exceptionally jumpy in this house. Now, I've always loved thunderstorms and living in the Midwest, we are treated to them regularly. But for some reason, in this house I'd get jumpy as soon as a storm started and hated being alone during them. It got so bad that I would wake CJ up if he was sleeping just so I could rock him. Any mother of a nine month old knows this is crazy behavior!!

At this time, my hubby worked nights at a factory in town. He was gone from 4:00 pm to 3:30 am Monday thru Thursday and 2:30 pm to 11:30 pm on Fridays and sometimes Saturdays. So most nights I was on my own. I had a comfortable routine (CJ was a baby who loved his routines, now that we know he's autistic, this totally makes sense!). I'd rock him to sleep between 8:30 and 9:00. Then watch a little more tv and head to bed myself. Usually I climbed in bed around 10 and read for a bit. I'm a horror novel fan so lots of times it's was Stephen King or Dean Koontz on the nightstand. Well one night I woke up in the middle of the night and heard footsteps on the stairs. They continued up the stairs and down the hall, right to the middle of the bedroom where I was. They came right to the edge of the bed where I lay (with my back to them) and stopped. I thought it was my hubby coming home and rolled over to say something. Except there was no one there! Completely freaked out I turned the light on and waited for him to get home. Of course he told me it was a bad dream. But it started happening every night that he wasn't home. At 3 o'clock like clockwork. He dismissed my accounts and admonished me for reading Stephen King and getting myself all worked up. Honestly, I was never really scared of the presence, I just didn't want to see it. Or have it touch me or anything like that.

When I was 8 months pregnant I flew to Louisiana to visit my folks. My dad was stationed at a base there and I had never been to that state before. It was an unpleasant visit. CJ got a sinus infection and was sick and cranky the whole time. He refused to sleep most night and as a result, I was tired and cranky. And the state of Louisiana is unbearably humid in august. Not good when that pregnant. My hubby called everyday of the week we were there, to check on us. And on one night he said "tell me again about the footsteps". I knew by the sound of his voice that he'd heard them. I told him and then asked point blank "did you hear them too?". He admitted that he had, exactly like I described and apologized for thinking I was crazy. Ha! I remember feeling much relieved and vindicated.

Now, I don't remember exactly what the celebration was for, but for one reason or another, CJ ended up with a helium filled balloon one day. One of the foil ones that last forever. He played with that balloon alot during the day and sadly left it downstairs that night. Downstairs. In the den. Now to get from the den to the bedroom upstairs one had to walk through the living room, turn 90 degrees to the left, walk down the hall, turn 90 degrees to the right, go through a doorway, make another 90 degree turn to the right, up a steep flight of stairs, turn 90 degrees to the right, down a hall and into our room. Somehow, the balloon made it. When we woke up the next morning it was hovering over the middle of our bed. No, the heater nor air conditioning were on. So much for air currents.

And then there was Christmas. CJ was 15 months and Mo was 3 months. We did the usual rounds of family dinners and gift exchanges and made it home completely exhausted. We got the kids into bed and collapsed on the couch. When we'd brought all the presents we'd collected at various grandparents in, we'd piled them all in the den for sorting out later. At one of the grandparent's the kids had gotten wind up sesame street characters. I think we'd gotten Bert and Ernie. They were made of hard plastic and when you wound them up, the little arms moved to cover the eyes and uncover them in a game of peek-a-goo. The little feet moved and they played the sesame street theme. As my hubby and I were sprawled on the couch we heard the sesame street theme coming from the den. Now, we'd been home for hours, no one had been in the den and they didn't play unless you wound them up. I looked at him.

Me: You should go check that out.

Him: I'm not going in there. You go ghost girl.

Me: Not a chance. Let's go to bed instead.

And so we did. We only lived in the house another couple of months before we moved again in search of even cheaper rent. I must say I never felt threatened in the house, just jumpy. Even the footsteps weren't threatening it was more like an echo of something that had happened. Only the basement creeped me out. The day before we moved, I went over to say goodbye to the elderly couple that lived next door. We'd spoken a few times since we lived there and they were always friendly with me and the babies. As I sat in the living room, drinking tea, my neighbor lady remarked that they were sorry to see us go and that nobody ever seemed to live in the house long. And it was a shame because these houses were so full of history. She commented that she'd done some research on their house before they bought it and that both houses were over a hundred years old. And that our house had been a stop on the underground railroad. Didn't I know that's what that basement room had been? No. I hadn't known. But things made a lot more sense now.

Well, the house is still there, and I drive by it sometimes just for old time sakes. We had a happy year there, all things considered. It also fascinates me. It's had a variety of residents since we moved and oddly enough I received a call one morning from a girl my hubby had gone to school with.

Her: So I talked to (insert mutual friend's name here) and she said that I should call you because you used to live at (insert address here).

Me: oh yeah we did! We lived there about 3 years ago. I loved that house!

Her: well my fiance and I are in the process of buying it. Um. I was wondering...did you ever hear anything weird?

Me: oh you mean the footsteps?

Her. Yes! Omg. He told me it was just the rain!! We're remodeling the big bedroom so we're sleeping in the little one and last night I swear I heard footsteps come up the stairs and turn and go to the big bedroom. He tried to tell me I was just hearing the rain on the roof!!

Me: Nope. They're footsteps alright. But I don't think they're anything bad.

Her: And a wind up alarm clock, that was packed in a sealed box in the middle of the big bedroom went off the other night in the middle of the night!

I proceeded to tell her our stories, again assuring her I didn't think it was anything bad. But it didn't help. She moved out.

Anyone else got a ghost story for me? Are you scared yet?

things that go bump in the night,
♥Spot

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

That story I promised you on Sunday

Okay, so the other day I promised you a story to astound and amaze you. Or was it terrify and repulse you? Or maybe it was amuse and bewilder you? I don't remember. But this is the story you're getting so I promise it will have one of the three effects above.

So I posted before about my "spidey sense" and so far no one has come up with a better name so we are just going to go with that for now. And I mentioned how it is not really useful for personal gain (unless you count avoiding doom which is kind of a point on the gain side really). And then I said unless I started talking to ghosts and became a medium on one of those ghost shows (but really the good ones never use mediums so I'd have to be on one of the mediocre ones and I don't know if I can settle for mediocrity). And then I said that I really didn't want to talk to ghosts. It's true, I really don't. I wouldn't mind seeing one (like a totally non threatening, non scary one of course!) but I don't want it talking to me.

Well, here's the kicker...according to my mom and dad, I used to talk to ghosts. When I was little. I know that you are all pretty freaked out and amazed and OK, maybe mostly freaked out because I know I was!! But they have at least two separate accounts of this behavior.

First, when I was between two and three, we lived with my grandparents (dad's side) for awhile in Bloomington, IL. This was just before my dad joined the air force and began whisking us all over the place. I guess the house my gparents lived in was notably haunted. Lights turned themselves on and off, things mysteriously got moved around, and people passing by the house when my grandparents weren't home would hear the sounds of a party and music and see lights on. It seems that more then one friend of theirs actually got pissed because they thought they had a party and didn't invite them. (It was the early seventies you know). Anyway, the story goes that one night my mom woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of me chattering away (this probably wasn't all that unusual as I'm told even then I was a "talker".) But she said I was even pausing as though I was having a conversation and someone was talking back. She said I didn't sound upset at all. She went down the hall and into my room to find me standing in a corner of the crib chatting animatedly to the empty room. When she asked me who I was talking to I promptly informed her "the lady" and that the lady was cold. She picked me up, I fussed some about the lady being cold and waved "bye bye" as she started down the hall. At which point she started booking it back to her own room, me in her arms. They moved me into their room after that. And we were only in that house a couple more months. I have no recollection of this at all. (of course!)

The second occurrence was much more ongoing and lasted about eighteen months. When I was four we moved to Okinawa, where my dad was stationed. I actually celebrated my fourth birthday on the plane crossing the pacific ocean. At first we lived in a house in one of the villages and I really only had my mom and my dog, Fuzzy, for company. When we moved on base, my mom got rid of the dog (she and he were not friends to put it mildly) So, even though I was in kindergarten (I started early, back then they let you do that), I didn't have a whole lot of friends. So when I started talking to a boy named "Manny" that my parents couldn't see, they figured it was your typical imaginary friend solitary children come up with. But things got increasingly weird as I made them set a place for "Manny" at the table, cried when my mom shut the door too fast and caught "Manny's" elbow in it, walked as though there was someone actually beside me, and had one sided conversations. The doctors assured them it was normal behavior and I'd outgrow my need for my imaginary friend when I started making more real friends. Well "Manny" stayed with me throughout our stay in Okinawa even though I did make real friends. And there were a few odd happenings- once during a typhoon when there was no power, a small plug-in lamp in my bedroom stayed lit anyway. And then "Manny" even followed us back home to America the year I turned 6. Our first stop in America was a visit to my grandparent's (Mom's side this time) home in Illinois. At that time my grandparents were still married (they divorced the next year) and my grandfather was still an alcoholic. One afternoon, my father was taking a bath (they didn't have a shower) in the (only) upstairs bathroom and I was playing in the hall outside the door where our suitcases were stored. My mother had admonished me to stay right there while she went in to rinse my dad's hair for him (picture a 6'2" man crammed into an old fashioned claw foot tub). I was playing horsey on the largest suitcase when suddenly I got up and ran to the door to the bathroom and grabbed the handle. At that moment the sound of a gun going off echoed through the house. I don't remember much of what happened but apparently my father, dripping wet and dressed only in a bathrobe raced downstairs to find my drunken grandfather, my uncle who'd taken the gun from him, and my grandmother. My grandfather had been waving the gun around and it accidentally discharged, sending a bullet straight through the ceiling and exactly where my leg would have been had I still been playing horsey on the suitcase. Well my dad came really close to doing great violence to my grandfather but grandpa spent the night in jail instead. My extremely shaken mother asked me why I'd come to the door when I did and all I could tell her was that "Manny" told me to. "Manny" disappeared after that and I never mentioned him again. While I don't remember much of it (just flashes of scenes) this story still gives me goosebumps. And I thank my lucky stars for "Manny", whoever and whatever he was.

So there you have it. Kind of explains my life long interest in ghosts and all things paranormal, doesn't it? I hope that you, whether you're a believer or not, enjoyed the story. I'm kicking around the idea of making it into a novel (so don't go stealing it!). So which reaction did it get from you?

goosebumps & gratitude,
♥Spot

Monday, October 19, 2009

Me = Awesome

So it's Monday morning and I just discovered that I'm Awesome!! Well OK, I already knew I was awesome but now I have proof!! And you already knew I was awesome because you read my blogs. And my blogs just scream Awesome. Wait? What? You want to see proof?! What kind of people are you? Geez. Okay, here goes....

How I spent my Sunday (or the awesome adventures of me...)


First, I wrote my blog which wasn't all that awesome of a blog at first glance, but if you remark my usage of the word "nonplussed" as Mark so kindly did you will indeed see that it is awesome. Why? Because I used it correctly!! Woot woot. Because I'm awesome. And I know that I used it correctly, because on Jenny's blog today there was a link to this article- Nine Words That Don't Mean What You Think They Mean. And "nonplussed" is one of the words. Which could mean I'm just a nerd and incredibly geeky, but since it's my blog I'm going to go with it pointing to the fact that I'm awesome!

Then, I decided to play around on the computer and since Mo had asked me to set her up a blog site so that she could start blogging I decided to do that. And this is what the incredible genius that is me came up with- Life, Love and Luluness. It's very cute and very her and took hours to figure out! I did, however, get a "Thanks Mom! You're Awesome!" out of it. All that's left is for her to actually blog. Because I'm not doing that for her too!!!

After all of this awesomeness, I decided I needed a break. So Sean and I put on hoodies and headed outside for that walk! Now, I do have a chronic condition and walking very far is not something I can do anymore. Well, I can, but then I end up unable to walk that night and part of the next day. So we headed down our drive and to the cemetery that is across the road from out mailbox. I'd been wanting to take some photos of it anyway. So all in all it was a 1/2 mile walk and some traipsing in the cemetery. I know, not far, but enough to completely tighten one calf muscle and give my legs the jumpy twitches after I got home. But soooo worth it. I live in a beautiful spot and the weather, though windy, was awesome. And then I made a slide show of my photos!!



And if you made it through the whole thing- yay you! I played around with my editing software some. I think the photos came out well (because I'm awesome) even though I desperately need/want/better get a new camera. So that was my day of awesomeness. Oh and yes, I did make my family dinner, fold some laundry, and cuddle on the couch with my hubby for a bit. So I got those everyday tasks accomplished too. =] Why can't every day be Sunday??!

The only unawesome part of my day was when I asked my hubby to go down and play Laundry Room CSI for me because I was making his dinner and feeding the cats (who were circling my legs like a group of hungry sharks).

my hubby: (repeating my question rather incredulously) you want me to scoop the cat boxes?

Me: (staring back at him open mouthed) my gosh, you said that like I'd just asked you to cut your leg off!

my hubby: well, more like my left nut but whatever. (this is a guy who routinely has to dig up and fix the camp's septic systems. And clean latrines and shower houses. Is cat poop really that much grosser than human poop?? I think NOT!)

He did indeed scoop. But it may have been because I was waving my wooden spoon around rather wildly. I've been told I'm scary when I have the wooden spoon in my hand.

basking in my awesomeness (and yours),
♥Spot

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Should have stayed in bed...

So it's Sunday morning and I'm slightly disappointed. And really really tired. That's probably my own fault because I stayed up too late watching really bad ghost stuff on TV. And then when I went to bed I saw my book laying there and thought "oh, I should probably finish that". So then I stayed up later reading and still didn't finish it because I fell asleep and dropped the book and it hit me in the face so I threw it on the floor and put out the light.

But this morning I got up and I was all happy because yesterday when I went to town I stopped by my hubby's ex-aunt's- (is that what you call someone who divorces your uncle? and then the uncle dies? but she's still the mother of your cousin?)- bakery and got some donuts. And usually these are my favorite donuts but today they just didn't taste good. Then I went online and read this blog that I found last week and thought was insane and hilariously funny, but after a week I've decided that it's just insane. *sigh* And Sean is playing an xbox game in here because I bought him a new xbox (well it was a late bday present) and he didn't want to put it downstairs in the Batcave because the last one got all kinds of cat fur and dust in it and died. So it's in the family room. We also moved the big TV up here which is crazy because the couch is only like 4 feet from the TV but it's awesome for watching movies on! Anyway his game is really loud and he's sick so he keeps snuffling and coughing and it's really throwing me off my "A" game. (Stop that! Of course I have game!)

So last night when I was watching the ghost shows on Bio., there was this psychic and she was talking about the presence she felt and then she was all like "omg. I'm getting goosebumps and that means that what I'm saying is 90 to 95% accurate". The Hell?? What kind of self respecting psychic comes with a disclaimer?? And does that mean if she's saying something and doesn't get goosebumps she's only 20% accurate and there's a good chance she's totally making this shit up?? I was very nonplussed.

And then they had this girl who'd apparently been haunted because she started playing with tarot cards. And she tried to make herself all out to be this great tarot card reader but she said she did a "Celtic" spread only she pronounced it "sell-tick". And if you can't pronounce it properly you probably should not be doing it and deserve whatever you get! Yes, I know that people get confused because of the whole Boston Celtics (pronounced "sellticks") but since the tarot card spread was passed down from an ancient race of people and not a basketball team you should probably not pronounce it like that. Geez! Where do they find these people?!

Hmmm...reading back through all this, I may or may not be a little cranky and snarky. I think I might go for a walk to shake this mood. Sorry. But I promise you a story to amaze and astonish you tomorrow! Seriously.

fake psychics and stupid peeps,
♥Spot

PS- while I was getting the link to Bio.com for you to link it up, I took the "find your dead celebrity soulmate" quiz and came up with King Henry the VIII. Hahaha. Of course. I've always been fascinated by him. The young handsome him, not the old fat him with the disgusting smelly gimpy leg. And really I'm not all that attached to my head...

Friday, October 16, 2009

Damn that Spidey Sense!

Okay so I'm getting to this blog really late today but it's okay because I already put dinner in the crock pot so I'm not in a hurry or anything. Yeah I was productive today. Go me! I did three loads of laundry, put spicy deer chili in the crock pot, made all the beds, swept the kitchen, straightened and vacuumed the upstairs. And I tried to get by with not doing this. I tried to use Jenny's the house is not messy it's a "creative haven" line, but I wasn't even buying it so I knew I couldn't sell it to anyone else and I was going to have to knuckle down and do some work. Also, because even though it's only been like 4 days since I vacuumed I could probably have knit a sweater or two out of all the cat fur on the carpets. Which really grosses me out. So I was productive. Which can also be translated into boooorrrrriiinnnggg.

So about my spidey sense. You guys are gonna think I'm really weird or crazy but that's okay because I'm pretty sure alot of people think I'm crazy and everyone has their own "thing" you know so maybe crazy is my "thing". My spidey sense warns me of impending doom. Okay it also lets me know when people are pregnant or the phone's gonna ring or someone wants me to call them. Like today when my sister in law texted me and was all "guess what" and I just somehow knew that she was pregnant again but I didn't want to ruin her moment so I was all like "I don't know. What" and she was "I just found out I'm pregnant". And I was all "congratulations! that's awesome!" instead of yeah I know. Or when I call someone and they're all "I was just thinking about you" and I don't say "Yeah I know. What do you want?". Or I tell the kids to go get the phone and they say it hasn't rung yet and then it rings. (This used to really freak my husband out but now he's either okay with it or pretends he is). I know I'm totally freaking you out right now with my awesome psychic powers right?! Yeah, don't get excited, it's not like I can predict winning lottery numbers or anything else remotely useful.

But the spidey sense has been really helpful when raising teenagers. My daughter once asked me if she could go to a party (and I know the standard parent answer is no because it's a party but that's not how we do things) and I said "No. I have a really bad feeling about it" and she stopped asking because they know you don't argue with the spidey sense. The party got busted and everyone there got arrested and lost their drivers licenses. The spidey sense lets me know when they're lying too. You'd think that would make them never lie to me but they're teenagers so they really aren't that smart and then they get in even more trouble for lying when they should have just confessed. The sucky part about the spidey sense is knowing when something is going wrong in their relationships. Like I always knew when my daughter and her boyfriends were going to have huge fights or if she was being cheated on or lied too. You'd think that would be good, but it's not really. Because then you're forced to either keep quiet and get the ice cream ready or be the bearer of bad news. Let me tell you it's a tough call.

Sunday my son came into the family room and said that his girlfriend had to cancel their date. That she had a scholarship application due and a speech to write. Now, this isn't really odd because she is a very scholarly girl who works really hard at school but it sent off a remote tingle in the spidey sense. So I sent her a text (yes, she texts me frequently) and said "good luck on your scholarship thingy" and she didn't text me back. More alarm bells. I mentioned this to my daughter who texted her and said no it appeared things were fine and Lizzie said how sweet Sean is to her. But I couldn't stop the spidey sense. I told Mo that Lizzie was going to break up with Sean. Fast forward to Tuesday evening. We are on our way home from town. Both kids are texting. I'm driving and singing.

Sean: Lizzie says she needs to talk to me. She's going to call the home phone.

Me: (and Mo in complete unison) Uh oh.

Sean: What?

Me: when a girl says she needs to talk, it's never a good thing. Sorry buddy.

Mo: Mom said Sunday night that Lizzie was going to break up with you. So you should break up with her first. Or at least act all relieved when she says it.

Sean: (turning to me) seriously?

Me: 'fraid so. Sorry.

And she did. She said it just wasn't working out and they didn't get to spend enough time together. Which we all know in girl speak means there's another guy. He hung up the phone and came to the dinner table and said "you were right". But he wasn't too bummed. I mean there are lots of other girls. And he saved that $40 bucks he would have spent on dinner and a movie Sunday. And he got a freakin tattoo that day so now he's bad ass. But not too bad ass because he didn't pretend to be relieved or break up with her first or anything. Because he thought that was mean. So he's a nice bad ass. He did however call me a witch the next day and tell me that I was probably gonna get burned at the stake or something. But they totally don't do that anymore. Right?? RIGHT???!

♥Spot

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Aack! I will never go MIA again. Wait, that's probably a lie...

So I haven't been online in like two days. I know right?! You're probably all like omg did you have withdrawal symptoms? Were you deathly ill? Wtf? But no. I wasn't deathly ill. I may or may not have had the shakes. My daughter got home Monday and she had Dr.s appointments and an infinite list of things to accomplish and then I had to spend time with my family and grocery shop and well, my other life seriously cut into my computer life if you will. So I've spent all morning trying to catch up with at least everyone's most recent blogs and now my head feels like it may possibly explode. But I did have a wonderful time hanging out with Molly and Sean for the last two days. And I have a new tattoo to show for it. See what happens when I'm not online??!

First...Monday my husband comes home from his side job and since we have to meet our oldest adopted son and his gf who's also my bff for dinner that night since it's Brian's bday my hubby hops right in the shower. When he gets out of the shower he says-

him: What kind of dope are you smoking?

Me: (completely confused bc I'm not smoking dope, I'm laying on the couch in the family room half heartedly looking at a magazine while Molly spends an entire hour looking for a photo to put on her new blog.) Huh?

him: The Boogeyman post (read it on G & H). What the hell?

Me: (getting up and following him into our room) What do you mean? How did you even see that? I posted it while you were gone. (Plus, I don't think he even knows how to get to my blog. He's technoretarded.)

him: your friend was reading it on her iphone and she came and read it to me and Brian.

Me: So you didn't think it was funny? (He so doesn't get me).

him: sure it was funny. (Thanks for the ringing endorsement dear.) She was laughing hysterically, that's why she read it to us.

Me: But you didn't think it was funny? (I may or may not have used my pouty voice here.)

him: Sure it was funny. (He's so overboard with the praise.) But where do you come up with this shit?

Me: um. Maybe if you paid attention when I was talking you'd realize that I say this kind of shit all the time. This is further proof that you tune me out. Ha! You've just busted yourself.

him: OK punkin. (That's what he says when he's humoring me.)

And then Tuesday morning he did it again. I got up, felt like death warmed over and had to go to town to run 50 bajillion errands with the kids. So I stumbled into the kitchen to get coffee and he was making a sandwich-

him: What's up cutie?

Me: I think I woke up in hell, but it looks suspiciously like a Tuesday morning.

him: (no response he just went back to making his sandwich)

But on the plus side, Mo was in one of her "I'm bored and need to do something drastic" moods so she talked me & Sean into getting the tattoos we'd been talking about for months. I got "mathair" on my right wrist, which is Gaelic for mother. She got "deirfiur" which is sister in Gaelic and Sean got "dearthair" which is brother. But that is a whole other blog. With a picture.

missed you like the crazy person that I am,
♥Spot

Monday, October 12, 2009

I'm thinking of moving...like to another galaxy...

So I'm just going to warn you up front that this is not going to be a humorous blog. Sorry. I'm pretty sure I had a humorous blog in me but then I perused the Internet this morning and got disgusted. I'm so tired of the "hate". When did expressing your opinion become a license to promote hate? When did disagreeing with someone become an excuse for calling them every awful name known to man because they have different views. When did different begin to equal wrong. Unless they went and changed the dictionary when I wasn't looking, people are way out of line. And I'm pretty sick and tired of it.

My dad has always said "opinions are like assholes. everyone has one and most of them stink". Yes, dad is very opinionated. But he never expected us to just blindly go along with his opinion. We were encouraged to form opinions. But then we were encouraged to back them up. If we expressed an opinion, it was immediately followed by a "why". As in "why do you believe that?". And even if he agreed with us, my dad would play devil's advocate and argue the other side. And even though he often got me so frustrated that I'd end up near tears, I understand the point of this exercise. He taught us to fight logically. It's not enough to just decide you support something. It's no good if you can back it up with facts and a rational reason why you believe it. So that you can argue the point without resorting to indiscriminate name calling and mudslinging. Stooping to that is the mark of an unintelligent person. It seems to be all I see these days.

And I'm not going to give you my opinion and I don't want to hear yours. I don't want to argue politics or religion on my blog. If our opinions differ, I'd like to be able to do as my best friend from high school and I do...we agree to disagree. And then we look for compromise. And that is what America needs to be doing. Looking for the compromise. Because neither side is ever going to agree. And all this hatefulness is only weighing us down and making us look like unintelligent fools. I hate that because we have a president of color, everything has become about race. Ridiculous. It's ridiculous for one side to say that if you disagree with him, it's because he's black and therefore you're a racist. Does that mean if you agree with him, it's because he's black, and therefore you are also a racist? Why can't we just look at him as a man? Not a prophet, not a celebrity, not a black man, just a man. And why does each side have to pick the most extreme cases to point out the other side's flaws? Let's just get over the crap and the pettiness and find a point where we can pull this country and the world out of the dismal abyss in which we find ourselves. Start acting like the intelligent independent people we were back when the constitution was written. Instead of like the spoiled, greedy, materialistic people that everyone accuses us of being.

I grew up in a military household and environment where love of country and patriotism were a vital part of life. I grew up hearing revelry and taps played everyday, where we saluted or put our hands over our hearts when the national anthem was played and the flag was a symbol of hope and unity. I have sons who want to join the military and I will gladly stand behind them. I support my country. So why do I feel lately, like it's letting me down?

better for letting that out,
♥Spot

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Me & Weird Al make our confessions...

For those of you who are unfamiliar with Usher's "Confessions". There was a first song where he tells the woman he loves he was cheating on her. The second song tells her that the woman's having his baby. Weird Al decided to do part III for him...



I picked the video with the lyrics printed so everyone would get them. My son made me watch this and I was rolling!! Hope you enjoyed!

Now for my confession...I've been leading a double life. No, not the really cool kind like where I'm a secret agent and stuff. Although, even if I was I couldn't tell you without having to kill you so I wouldn't tell you anyway. So really, you don't know for sure I could still be a secret agent. And no, not the kind where I'm a secret stripper on the side either. Because if I was, A.) I probably would not have time to blog. and B.) I'd be rich. And I'm sooo not. I'm like the opposite of rich. Oh and C.) You've seen pictures of me. I'd be way buffer and hotter because you have to be to make money as a stripper. Right? Unless, they're paying you to put your clothes back on. Hmmm...! No, my other life is my other blog. (Geez, what else did you think I'd be talking about?! Blogging quite obviously is my life).

I'm not just Spot. I'm also Gert at The Gert and Hildi Chronicles. My sister is Hildi. And she's pretty freakin hilarious. So you should go check it out. We started the blog after I realized that her emails were funny and I was reading them to people. I figured why not just do our emails in a blog? I also thought maybe it would make her answer back sooner but apparently she doesn't respond to blog guilt. Because she takes her sweet time getting around to her turn. (Yes Hildi, this means you!).

So why Gert and Hildi, which are so obviously not our names? Well, my folks used to have this monotone answering machine that was soooo boring I hated hearing it pick up. So one time I decided to be a smartass (color you all surprised, right?!) and leave a fake name and so I said I was "Gertrude von Beaverhausen" (and yes, I totally stole that name from Karen on Will and Grace. So when my dad called back he asked for Gertrude and then he just started calling me Gert. So my sister (of course!) was all like I want a nickname too. So I told her she could be Hildegarde because it sounds like some huge German female bodybuilder. But of course she shortened it to Hildi which sounds all cute. *sticks tongue out at sister*

So last year at my cousin's bridal shower we had to address envelopes to ourselves so she could send thank-you's for the gifts and we both addressed ours to our fake names. It was funny. Well, funny after my cousin figured it out. So, I've even gotten mail addressed to Gertrude. Hehe. Wonder what the hell my mailman thought! So now, you know my deep dark secret. Well OK. So it's not very deep. Or dark. But it's all I got. Your turn?

Hope everyone had a relaxing weekend,
♥Spot

Friday, October 9, 2009

Time suckage and Cat poop

Wow. So I started this blog and then I got all off on this crazy tangent and when I read back through it I thought it might be a little offensive and break my own rule of not (absolutely not under any circumstances) talking about religion or politics on my blog. So I deleted and you should be all like whew! I really dodged a bullet on that one and thanks so much for saving me Spot! You're welcome.

Anywho, I read several blogs on a daily (sometimes twice daily) basis. See my listings at the side and feel free to peruse. And while I depend upon these people to make me laugh and put me in a good mood (if I'm not already in one), it takes a lot of time. Not just to read them, but to come up with a comment worthy of leaving. And sometimes, even these people have off days or maybe it's me having an off day or maybe I'm just not getting it but whatever, I sit in front of my monitor dazed for a few minutes and then I'm all like. Geez, I got nothing. And then I feel bad for not commenting. Because I totally needed something else to feel guilty about.

So in my quest for surrounding myself with other witty proficient writers I follow those blogs and search out others. Because I just have too much free time or well, time I should be doing something else with but I'd rather be online. Sometimes I click on other bloggers blogrolls (people they enjoy) and sometimes I check out the blog of note. And sometimes I'm pleasantly surprised like when I found Kathryn's blog but other times I sit there going. Wait? Wha? Why?! And I'm sooo totally confused about how they pick the whole blog of note because really? Really? Just saying... And I've totally decided that I don't like cooking blogs which is so weird because I love food and I love to cook so I can't figure that one out but there you go. Add it to my ridiculously long list of eccentricities. So anyway...I would love for everyone to just leave me one recommendation in their comments of their favorite blog so that I can check them out. I promise not to blog tomorrow and be all like "what were you thinking"??!! Even if I don't agree with you. I'm way too nice for that.

Now for the cat poop part because well I kind of promised by putting it in the title and all. So we've lived in our house for 7 and a half years now. We've had cats the entire time. But suddenly, last summer, my husband decides that we should not be flushing cat litter down the toilet when we (and I say we but I mean me) clean the boxes because it's bad for the septic system. Why he suddenly came up with this I don't know. And I try to tell him that's the scoopable kind not the regular kind like we use but he insists it's all litter and then he gets my dad to back him up with this story about how their landlord had to get their septic system cleaned out and the septic guy was a douche and made the landlord climb in the tank and chip the litter (which supposedly turns to clay) off the inside of the tank. And I kind of want to believe him but I'm not sure it's for real or if my dad's doing that weird male solidarity thing because I'm pretty sure I saw him flushing cat litter last time I was there!

So the new thing is we're supposed to put the used litter and kitty presents into a plastic bag (don't say we don't reuse. totally a new use for those grocery sacks) and then put it out the basement door in a can and he will go around and pick them up everyday and take them to the dumpster. Riiiggghhht. This is the man that overlooks a full trashcan that's staring him in the face but he's going to remember to check the back of the house for kitty purses. I don't think so. And when I expressed my disbelief, and the fact that if he didn't pick them up in the summer it would begin to smell, he assured me he'd remember and it would be "fine". Well not surprisingly enough, I was right. So in my outright rebellion, I went back to flushing. So he yelled again and promised that he would do a better job. So the other day I went down to clean boxes. I got my plastic bag and my scooper and squatted in front of our three (we have too many cats!) boxes. As I was sifting through the litter and then depositing it in the bag it dawned on me what this was reminding me of. I finished my task and went back upstairs.

Me: Can you get me some of those gloves like they wear in hospitals or food service?

My hubby: Why?

Me: because I don't want to contaminate the evidence.

My hubby: What evidence?

Me: Well it occurred to me that I'm sifting through the boxes for evidence...then I'm bagging it. Quite clearly, I'm CSI laundry room. And I want some gloves.

My hubby: *stunned silence*

Me: By the way...there's a rather large pile of evidence behind the house...you better get that to the lab. Stat!

waiting on my gloves,
♥Spot

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Honey, whatever you do, don't get old...

Why do old people say this? Really? My grandpa used to say this all the time. And I always think what's the alternative? Death? Hmmm...I think I'm going to go with the getting old. Because no matter how bad it sucks it's got to be better then dying. Or sometimes, I just want to shout "WHAT??! I had the choice to stay young and not age?? WTF? Why didn't I get the memo?! Did you get the memo. Flip! Did anyone get the memo?!" Or really, if getting old sucks that badly, that death is preferable, can you tell me what age it started sucking at? You know, so I can plan my demise. I mean like was it 50? 65? 39? Wait...I am 39! No! I don't want to die! I want to get old!!! If only so I can say "don't get old" to my kids and grandkids and totally confuse them too.

Of course, as we were reminiscing today, this is the same man who used to order a BLT but he didn't want any L and could he have the T on the side? So basically he wanted a bacon sandwich with sliced tomato on the side. But he never said it that way.

And every time we went to Village Inn, he'd lean over and ask my dad if they had Bud Light there. And every time my dad would explain that they didn't serve alcohol at Village Inn. Mostly because pancakes and beer would be totally gross, I'm sure.

And one time we went to this really fancy restaurant and grandpa broke the toilet in the men's room and water started leaking out onto the carpet in the hall and my dad made us hurry up and leave. And as he was paying the bill, the bartender was totally bitching about how it was a Sunday and they had to call the plumber and pay him double time and the carpet would probably be ruined, while we all stood around trying to look innocent and I had my hand over Sean's mouth because he was 4 and couldn't be trusted not to blurt out that it was grandpa. I don't know how innocent you can look when you have your hand over a kids mouth but I tried.

And how he could make the best gravy ever, even though he was shitfaced and paying no attention to it. The man was talented that way.

And how he called me his angel, even though my husband says I'm nobody's idea of an angel and he's pretty sure that angels do not run to the gas station to buy beer and cigarettes for old people. Even though they're in a wheelchair. But I did.

And how the doctors told him he had 5 different kinds of cancer and 6 months to live and he refused treatment, told everyone the doctors were wrong and he didn't have cancer, took a Bayer aspirin everyday, ate bacon and tomato sandwiches every morning, drank like a fish, smoked like a chimney and lived another 3 years. And in the end, it wasn't even the cancer that killed him.

He used to frustrate me to no end, act like an ass every time I took him to the doctor, and drunk dial me at least once a day but I miss his crazy ass anyway. So cheers grandpa. Wherever you ended up, I hope to hell they serve bud light and bacon sandwiches.

♥Spot

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Scary things...like ghosts and my mothers driving...

So talking to my sister the other day and her telling me to come visit her made me think back to October of last year. Most of last year I was sick. I spent a year going through tests and getting diagnoses only to have them ruled out later. I'd taken the entire summer off from my job, hoping that the rest would help, I returned in September but things weren't good and in October, my boss finally asked me to take a medical leave of absence. I did and ended up not going back. And all of that is another blog, but the result of this was that I decided to tag along with my mom and go to my sister's house for Halloween since my kids are older and past the whole trick-or-treating thing. Plus my sister is the only person I know who loves Halloween as much as I do! My aunt also decided to go with us. So the three of us set out.

First pitfall? My mother feels the need to take half of her house with her when she goes anywhere. We were going for 5 days so she takes 3 suitcases, two "bathroom" bags, and hanging clothes. My aunt has three suitcases. I have one suitcase and one small bathroom bag. We're going to Ohio, not China. If you forget something there's a Walmart down the road. So, finally, I get all of this luggage crammed into my mom's Ford Escape and we argue over the driving. My mom insists on driving. Now, my mom is almost the worst driver I know. My aunt is the worst. Neither of them really pays much attention to where they're going and both of them take this crazy mix of prescription pills that renders them semi-conscious on occasion. Can I just say that I huddled in the backseat, surrounded by excess luggage and feared for my life for 5 hours?? Example:

Mom: Boy this road is really rough!!

Me: Um. Mom? You're driving on the rumble strips.

True story. No lie. So we get to my sisters finally! I enjoyed my stay with her and the kids. I had a blast taking them trick-or-treating around the neighborhood. My sis and I are both avid ghost fans so she and her gf's (her bestie Jen, our cousins Nikki & Andi), and myself go to a haunted house at Mansfield Reformatory (one of the most haunted places in the US)! It was some good scary fun let me tell you! But after our 5 days are up, I have to get back in the car for the return trip. Again, my mother insists on driving. And I have to let her due to the fact that I'm under doctor's orders not to drive. Unfortunately, we've shopped while we were there and found a stray kitty (which of course I'm taking home with me). So there's even more stuff to cram in the car. Once again, I find myself huddled in the back seat, furiously texting my sister.

My sis: Where you guys at?

Me: Mom took a wrong turn. We're lost in downtown Indianapolis. And it's going to be dark soon.

My sis: Holy shit! I hope you brought supplies?

Me: You mean like crosses and wooden stakes?

My sis: Well, as you may or may not know, Indy is a hotbed of wampires (not a typo. She actually calls them wampires).

Me: Yes, I've got holy water in squirt guns of course. And it's okay because I'm wearing a hoodie.

My sis: A hoodie? How's that gonna help? They can bite right through that.

Me: No way. It's cotton. Everyone knows cotton is God's fabric.

My sis: Seriously?

Me: Of course. It's grown in dirt. Everyone knows vampires don't like dirt.

My sis: Dude. You're making that up. They sleep in their native soil.

Me: Yeah, so they don't like other dirt. I'm totally going with it.

My sis: hmm. Whatever. If you turn into a wampire don't come visit me.

Me: Rude.

Thankfully, my mother managed to get us home without killing anyone. I'm thinking of going to my sisters for Halloween again. This time...I drive. And don't think I won't be wearing my hoodie.

That's my blog and I'm sticking to it!


Ghosts, wampires & cotton hoodies,
♥Spot

Monday, October 5, 2009

And you're gonna do that when?

So first off today….lets have a big “Woot Woot”. I have 11 followers!! That’s double digits baby! I know, to some of you…that’s small bananas, but I’m thrilled! Of course, I was thrilled with the first follower. I’m kind of easy to please that way. My sister says I live my life with totally no regard to whether others approve or not, and she envies that. And for the most part it’s true. I have come to the “it’s my life, I live it the way I think best, and the only person I’m responsible to is the one I see in the mirror each night” philosophy. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love validation. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear people say “I like the way you do that”. I don’t think you can ever truly get past wanting some recognition of a job well done. Whether it be, raising your kids, keeping your house clean, writing a blog. A pat on the back is always welcome. I do these things to please myself but that doesn’t mean I don’t get that warm fuzzy feeling when someone says “Your kids are great”, “Your house looks amazing”, or “You crack me up”. So thank you, thank you, thank you lovely followers, commenters, and lurkers. I love you one and all. On to today’s post:



No. I did not put this picture up so you could focus on how dirty my windows are. Nope, not so you could ask why I have a frosted glass full of sponge paintbrushes. Not why there is a three pack of scented bubble blow. Nor why there is a little glass jar of xmas tree light replacement bulbs. Focus people! Obviously, this is my kitchen window sill, right above the sink. Did you notice the strange white powder all over it? Yep, so did I.

And I called my hubby into the kitchen and said~

Me: Um, I’m a little afraid to ask, but what in the heck is that white stuff all over the window sill?!

Him: Sh*t! I meant to clean that up. I guess I got the sink and forgot the sill.

Me: uh huh. But what is it?

Him: Well, I was putting dishwasher soap in the dishwasher last night and we’re almost out and the powder was all clumped in the box. So I shut the box and I was shaking the h*ll out of it to break it up and the little metal thing flew off and powder went everywhere!

Me: (giggling hysterically) You are such a Goob! That’s hysterical.

Him: Btw, you should probably put that on the grocery list.

Me: duh.

Him: Don’t worry about it, I’ll clean it up.

Me: okay.

So that conversation was pretty humorous, right? The picture of my husband shaking the box of soap (probably hard enough to pulverize the lump of soap) and then it going everywhere? And my complete and utter surprise and confusion when I found the powder all over the sill? Right, I was even giggling myself. That day . But I’m not giggling anymore. Know why? Because I took that picture this morning!!! Five days after the preceding conversation. Remember the “don’t worry hun, I’ll clean it up’? Apparently I should have asked for an estimated date that he might accomplish this. You know like which century? Argh!

So I’m taking the picture this morning and my son, Sean asks- “what are you doing?”

And I tell him. “Huh.” he says. “I’m not sure what’s funnier~ the fact that dad forgot to clean it up, or the fact that I never even noticed it.”

These are the men I live with. It’s okay to feel sorry for me. Go ahead. I do.

Washing the windowsill (because damnit, someone has to)
♥Spot

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Bedtime Conversation...

So last night, when my hubby came to bed I was still awake. Yes, I know it was 12:30 am but I was trying to finish the book I was reading and I’d taken a really good nap while watching TV from 7:30 to 9:00. So he comes in and lays down and we have the following conversation:

Me: So your sister called tonight.

Him: Which one?

Me: The annoying one. I didn’t feel like talking to her though so I didn’t answer.

Him: Uh huh.

Me: So you’ll never guess…she was calling about the freakin holidays already!!! It’s only what? October 3rd? Oh shit…it’s your Gma’s bday. You shoulda called her.

Him: Yeah. Ugh. I hate the holidays.

Me: Yeah so she’s all chipper like “I’m trying to get everything all organized for the holidays. Thanksgiving with Dad’s side is at my house at 1:30 just like last year. And we’re gonna do Christmas with his side on the 27th of December. That’s a Sunday . At 1:00.” Did we even go to her house for Thanksgiving last year? Because I don’t remember. In fact, seriously I don’t remember Thanksgiving at all last year. Maybe I was sick and stayed home? Cause when it comes to Thanksgiving last year, dude, I got nothing.

Him: (Thinks)I don’t remember either.

Me: Well we weren’t with my folks because they all came here last Christmas so my parents must have went to Dani’s for Thanksgiving. I can’t believe I can’t remember Thanksgiving! But this year it’ll be at my mom’s since Christmas is at my sisters.

Him: I don’t know if I can handle both holidays with your family.

Me: What? As opposed to your family?? Are you freakin kidding me? Besides, we probably won’t make it to Dani’s for Christmas. Since Mo went to Iowa instead of Ohio we’d have to get a hotel and Mo won’t be able to go since she works retail and Luke’s folks will want to see them too. Maybe next year when they move to Ohio.

Him: whew. I was not looking forward to that.

Me: why?

Him: all of us in one place all day.

Me: um. That’s how it is when we go to my mom’s for a holiday.

Him: hmm.

Me: so this is one of the easy Christmases. We only have to go to you Gma’s on Christmas day.

Him: Those are the best holidays. When we only have one place to go and it’s only for an hour or so.

Me: Yeah. Then we come home and you take the boys hunting and I have the house to myself. And not that I don’t love you guys, but after all the cooking, shopping, wrapping, decorating- you know those things you totally never ever help with- I’m ready for a rest.

Him: I hate Christmas. Once Sean turns 18, I’m done. No more Christmas. If you think I don’t do anything now, just wait.

Me: Um. Hun, the only way you could do less towards Christmas is if you were dead.

Him: I’m working on it.

Me: That’s not fair! Don’t give me hope like that! I know you don’t mean it.

Him: Oh I’m working on it. Believe me. One hostess cupcake at a time…

At this point, we both rolled over to go to sleep. But 5 minutes later I rolled over quickly and said ~

Me: Wait!!! I do remember Thanksgiving!

Him: Mmuph? (I’m pretty sure he was already asleep)

Me: No. Nevermind. That had to be Easter.

Him: We went to my sister’s for Easter?

Me: I think so. Because Mo was showing off her tattoo and she didn’t get that til February.

Him: Was I there?

Me: Um. Duh. It was your family.

Him: Who else was there?

Me: Your Gma, your Dad, your brother and his wife, your sisters….

Him: Huh. Okay. Want to get naked?

Me: Not so much.

Him: K. Goodnight.

I love our bedtime convos. And I still can't remember Thanksgiving.


wondering how you lose a holiday,
♥Spot

Saturday, October 3, 2009

Hack, Hack, Hack...

No. That is not a commentary on my writing abilities (or anyone elses). That is the sound I'm making as I sit here coughing up a lung. For those of you who didn't know, I have the lungs of an 80 year old smoker even though I've never been a smoker or even dated one. (Well okay maybe I dated one once, but we won't go there). Due to horrific childhood asthma that almost killed me and my yearly (sometimes twice yearly) bouts of pneumonia my lungs suck badly. So whenever I get sick even with a minor head cold, it tends to migrate south and lodge in my chest. So here I sit, in my jammies (they are really cute though), messy curls, and pink cheeks (thanks to the fever). No one is home, Mike & Sean had a camp out and Bobby has homecoming. I had to make my own tea!!! And even my cats are avoiding me.

I was supposed to go to Springfield today to my folks house. My sister & her fam are in town from Ohio. And my uncle is in town from Phoenix. But I woke up this morning feeling lousy (and as my hubby proceeded to tell me when he popped into the house for all of 5 minutes, looking like death- not the warmed over kind, but the kind that's been in the fridge for a few days. Thank you dear, for your support!) So since her girls had just gotten over being sick I decided to not go and re-infect them. So I called her:

My sis: You sound like crap.

Me: Oh good because that's what I feel like. Don't you hate it when you feel like crap and you sound amazing? *Insert hacking cough here*

My sis: So you aren't coming, right? Because the girls just got better.

Me: No, I'll spare you my Ebola. But I really wanted to see you.

My sis: You can always come visit. I mean, you can write at my house.

Me: Yeah, that's what I was thinking. Except that Sean had to go and get himself a life now so I'll probably have to come alone.

My sis: Damn teenagers. So selfish.

Me: I know right?! Their growing up is seriously cutting into their "keeping mom entertained" time. I have to amuse myself now. It's ridiculous. I mean isn't this why we had kids? So we'd have something to do?

My sis: So you're going to the doctor right?

Me: (a bit muddled) Because the kids are growing up? I don't think there's much they can do. *insert another hacking cough*

My sis: Noooo. Because of that cough.

Me: no. It'll go away if I rest today. I had it on Tuesday, so I rested and I felt better the rest of the week.

My sis: But you didn't have a fever on Tuesday. I remember you telling me that.
(It's hard to believe she's my baby sister isn't it? I mean, she's such a mom.)

Me: It's Saturday. There's no doctors. (Which isn't strictly true, but close enough).

My sis: Well on Monday, then.

Me: Sure. If I still have a fever and am hacking up a lung.

My sis: *sighs* Okay. Want to talk to mom?

Me: Nope. I talked to her yesterday. You can pass along the message. Love you.

My sis: Gee thanks. Love you too.

I'm hoping I feel better tomorrow so that I can go see Zombieland with Sean. And eat chinese. Because I love chinese food. And Molly saw the midnight showing of Zombieland (wench) and said it rocked.

And if you're wondering...the whole homecoming football thing? Yeah...it sucked. It was sleeting!!! We froze (even though I wore gloves and brought blankets) through the first half (in which our team got slaughtered. I mean slaughtered. Like 27 to 0. And the other team...all their senior players got suspended last week so they weren't even there. I told you our team sucked.) Then we did the walk out on the field and it wasn't bad mentally. Physically, it was brutal. Even Bobby was so cold he was shaking. I think it's the first year I've seen the homecoming court candidates standing there in gloves and hats and coats.

Here's a pic:



He didn't win, but thankfully, he didn't care. And then we all came home and got warm. I'm pretty sure the whole freezing and soaked to the skin thing accounts for the lung issue today. But you do what you gotta do, right?

Tea, tissues & cough drops,
♥Spot

Friday, October 2, 2009

Bonus Blog...

Jackpot! Score! Because you are such very good readers...I'm going to give you a bonus blog. Yep. Two in one day. Although it's after midnight so technically it's tomorrow, but I'm still up so in my world it's still today. You may thank me by commenting. Or following. Or sending money. Whichever. And I will make this one relatively short because looking back, I realized I've been writing books. Thank you for wading through them!

Disclaimer: Please please do not try this at home. This stunt is packed with potential danger depending on the temperament of your spouse or significant other. And I would hate to have someone copy my technique and have their spouse smack them around for it. That would be bad, because then I'd feel all responsible and have to put a mafia hit out on them. Which might get traced back to me and ruin my rep. Not to mention I would not look good in a prison jumpsuit. Or what if someone did this and then their spouse came looking for me all you ruined my life by teaching my wife this trick! and tried to shoot me, like that guy did to Nicole Kidman in The Stepford Wives. That would be baaaadddd Bob!

Today I went into my pantry to throw away a paper towel and the trashcan was full. Not just full like close to the top full but full like overflowing full. And I came out of the pantry and let out a little growl and said loudly Why can't your father ever take out the garbage like he's supposed to??!" I mean seriously, it's not rocket science, is it? And he throws away the coffee filter every morning so I know he knows it's full. And Sean said "oh man. not this again". And then it struck me and I'm pretty sure that a light bulb appeared over my head like it does in cartoons when the character has an idea. Because this was brilliant. I said. "You're right." And then I proceeded to march into my husband's home office (which of course he wasn't in at the time) and then I spent 20 minutes searching for his post-it notes because the man does not know the meaning of the word organization. But finally I found them and a sharpie and I left him a note.

The actual note:


In case you can't read it, it says Do up the f*cking garbage or die. Ur choice. It makes no nevermind to me. PS- hope you're having a good day =] And then I left it on his planner. Two hours later I was in the laundry room folding laundry when I heard him come in. As I walked past the pantry door, with an armful of clean laundry I heard the unmistakable sound of the garbage being done up. "Good choice, honey" I called out sweetly. I know, I'm an effing genius.

♥Spot