Did You Know?

So here are some tidbits you might not have known about me. Not that it matters because I'm not very exciting but anywho here's some random crap...just so we can feel closer to each other.  For even more fun... read these answers to questions YOU asked!

1. My name isn't really Chief. At least not on my birth certificate. Somewhere along the way Duke nicknamed me Chief and now those who are closest to me, call me Chief (you are all considered close to me so feel free). Duke nicknames everyone and most of the time they aren't very nice names. Someday I will post about them. My real name is a bit unique and if you read through my blog you just might stumble upon it.

2. I love to go to work. Sometimes I feel like I should be ashamed of this so I get really defensive when the subject arises in conversation, especially at church functions. I stayed home for years when the kids were little but even then, I had a salon in my home where I worked on hair clients. Once they were both in school, the opportunity arose for me to go to work and I jumped on it.

~sigh~If only these were my real legs, and I could kick that high without tipping over

3. I pee a lot and I am also very gassy. My bladder is very small and whatever the nerve is that tells your brain that you have to pee is, well mine is on speed. Most times I will think I am going to burst only to trickle. I pee often but not a lot. Duke claims I am the greatest farter on the planet. I even embarrass the boys. I eat too much fiber I suppose, I just want to take care of my colon.

4. I started a k-9 charter school with a group of strangers who quickly became fast friends. Bud went to the neighborhood school through third grade and we didn't have a very good experience. I searched for years for a place he would excel in and had almost decided I needed to go back to work to pay for a private education when I met up with a group of parents who were starting a charter school. The charter school movement in our state was still in its infancy so it was a true leap of faith. We worked our butt cheeks off for 6 months getting the school built, staffed, and furnished (someday maybe I will elaborate on this if anyone out there is interested). The journey was worth it and I know we have one of the best schools money can't buy.

5. I work at above mentioned school. In a crazy turn of events I was offered a position as the Curriculum Coordinator shortly after the school opened and the rest is history. Yes, the school is a major part of our lives and has been for 5 years. I now run the Library, Curriculum and Purchasing/Procurement and love it 99% of the time. the 1% is the 6:00 alarm every morning when I used to wake up whenever I wanted because as a self employed cosmetologist. I made my own schedule (I also made 4 times as much money). I do love being around my kids all day, seeing them interact with the friends, getting the occasional nod in the hallway, (small enough that no one will notice of course).

6. I love dogs. It's too bad the Mormon church doesn't teach reincarnation because I would whole heartily believe I either was a dog in a previous life or will become one in the next life. I am every one's dog sitter because they know I will treat their animal better than I do my own children. I am sick.I know. My dogs love me.

Maggie and Moose

7. I am addicted to Grey's Anatomy. It is one of my guilty pleasures. I would run over my own grandmother with a car if it meant I would not miss an episode. I feel so bad about this. Really I do.

8. I am fat. Although I am trying not to be as fat as I once was. I have lost 30 pounds and while that sounds good, it is a far cry from where I should be to be healthy. I don't want to be thin, just fit comfortably in an airplane seat and to stop sweating in between my fat rolls. For a glimpse into my run-in with the local gym check this out.

9. My bedroom is a mess. I am not sure what is under my bed but I know it makes a helluva racket when the dogs go exploring in the middle of the night. Puppies have been birthed under that bed, and I know that is where all of my missing silverware must be. The other day, I was looking for a shoe and pulled out a shriveled banana peel. I have dressers and a closet but I still seem to accumulate stacks of clothes everywhere. I know this is due to my weight fluctuation between fat and fatter. I insist on having clothes in 4 different sizes just in case I wake up thinner on any given day.

No, we do not sleep in bunkbeds...although the thought has crossed my mind. Thanks google, for the pic.

10. I swore I would never blog. Who could possible be interested in my ramblings about my over-active uterus, marriage, and general family dysfunction? Then I started writing and I realized I couldn't get enough of myself.

So there you have it. There's nothing else to say...that's about it.

My cup runneth over....

I have just spent the past hour experiencing something I never thought I would have to. When I birthed two male children, I thanked the Lord for the gift I had been given. No talks about menstruation, shopping for training bras, teaching my daughter how naughty boys were, sudden emotional crying jags (unless you count mine). Nope! I had a husband who would get to experience all the joys of male puberty and wonder.

You never know what the future holds...read on...

Duke is out of town and Bud started football this week (this is his 3rd year playing). As I was picking him up from practice last night I overheard the coach giving the group of sweaty 13 year old adolescents a list of instructions. I went through them in my head as he rattled off the list as I didn't want to be one of those parents who is unsupportive of the coach:

1. Drink plenty of fluids (check)
2. Consume bananas, milk, lean meats (check)
3. Buy ibuprofen (done)
4. Wear your mouth guard and get used to breathing with it (already got it)
5. Come tomorrow wearing a "cup" ~crickets~ Geh!

Does he mean a measuring cup? Surely he doesn't expect me to go shopping for one of those plasticky thingies the men wear over their "package". You know, the things they are obsessed with adjusting whenever the camera pans over to their side of the baseball field? Doesn't he know Duke is out of town? Where do you even go about finding one of those contraptions? Does my kid really even need one of these? What is there to protect? Why is this necessary the week I am a single parent with a husband who holds grudges and is giving me the silent treatment because he overreacts? (see previous post)

So needless to say, after work today I stopped over at The Wal-Mart to see what I could find. There I stood in the sports section staring at rows of packages with strange men and their genitalia posing for all to inspect. I was aghast! Oh mercy, what size do I get? Youth MD, Youth LG, Adult MD...certainly not Adult LG! Oh why? Why do I have to do this? I am visualizing what size supporter would best fit my 13 year old son! I really want my husband. Alas, he is gone and certainly not going to feel sorry for a woman who was so condescending in her last e-mail correspondence (again, previous post). Please God, give me a sign! Tell me what cup will protect my son's unmentionables! There are men standing with me reading packages, (visualizing their own sizes I am certain) and I am shrinking into the abyss trying not to imagine what size they are getting. I finally grab several packages without any further contemplation, toss them in my cart and run for the checkout. I stop by the ice cream freezer and load up on anything that looks like it will numb the pain throbbing in my brain. So grateful they have a self checkout for I know that if I had a real person check out my purchases they would not be able to help themselves and would have to ask why I felt the need to buy $40 worth of "cups" in different sizes, to which I would have to answer "They are for my dog".

Now I would love to go forward with the story sharing with you what I went through once I returned home. I'm sure you would all enjoy hearing about what an experience it was showing my son the correct way to install his new "appliance" but I wouldn't want to humiliate him any further. I have a feeling I may have already taken it too far...but what's one more silent treatment? Just think how quiet my house is going to be!

More Marital Bliss

Marital Bliss


Sunday night 10:30 p.m.

Duke "Uh..Chief, can you do me a favor tomorrow and take some work stuff to FEDEX?"

Chief "Sure, I will try...tomorrow is very busy with hair clients, orthodontist appointments and football practice and then you're leaving town for a few days, I'm not sure when I will make it there but I will give it a shot."

Duke frustrated "Well, at least come over here so I can show you how to ship them!"

Chief exhausted "Honey, I know how to ship packages, just give me the address and the account number and I will be fine."

Duke, whining "Why do you have to be so snippy about it?"

Chief exasperated "About what?"

Duke "About the fact I just want to show you how so you don't do it wrong!"

Chief...done with him now "Do what wrong?!? I.am.shipping.a.package. I do it all the time. I just don't want to get up and come over while you show me how to fill out a form that I have filled out many times before!"

Duke "Well you act like it's such a big deal to do me a favor! My needs are always last on your priority list!"

This is where things get hairy because Saturday we spent the day at an amusement park with the boys and the entire time he darted around like a 13 year old hyped up on Red Bull. Running from ride to ride while I tried to entertain the youngest kid on my own. I would ask him to meet me at a certain spot at a set time and find him sneaking on "just one more ride". I truly felt like a parent to three kids. But in true mom and wife form, I wanted each of them to have fun so I juggled everyone's needs for 8 hours. Oh, and let us not forget the afternoon of Nascar yesterday! For him to imply that his needs are last on my list of priorities is offensive and my claws come out.

Needless to say the rest of the evening was very quiet. We don't fight, hardly ever...and when we have a disagreement we usually just give each other space and not speak for a while. I actually think he prefers the silent treatment because to get into a verbal confrontation with me does not bode well for him. I am the master arguer and after 16 years he has learned that he will be on the losing end of every argument.

He knows the best thing to do is let me sleep on it. I hate contention and will usual present the peace offering first after a few hours. On the other hand, he could go on for days angry (he's just like his grudge holding mother). He very rarely apologizes as he is a true man child yet I will apologize just to get things moving again even when I know I was not in the wrong. So today I e-mailed him to tell him I love him and that I wanted him to be safe on his trip. He did not reply. This.bugs.me. I gave him a few hours and e-mailed again...this time I got a bit sassy

"Honey, it's O.K. that you are ignoring me today. Your silence tells me you are sorry for the way you behaved and I want you to know that I forgive you. Your adoring wife."

It's a good thing he is 800 miles away or the steam coming from his ears might have set off the smoke alarm.

Does anyone out there no how long it takes husbands to realize that when we want to talk, they better be ready to listen?

Want Even More Marital Bliss? Go here and here

Yee! Haw!

It's Sunday and I am suffering through another 4 hours of Nascar with Duke. I'm trying to tune out the commentators as they butcher the English language with grammatical errors. Nascar has the longest season of any sport...(OK, I don't know this as fact, but I am fairly sure) 9 months is a long season anyway.

I try really hard to be supportive. I remember when we first met I had never watched an entire game of football. I realized that if I didn't want to spend the rest of my life hiding in the bedroom every Sunday, Monday, and Thursday nights, I needed to learn how to enjoy it. Now I do. I tried doing this again when Duke decided he wanted to start watching stock cars zip around a track for 500 miles. I really tried. For over 7 years I have suffered a slow death. I could go hide in my room but it is messy (messier than my living room anyway) and it gives me anxiety. I could go clean my room but I insist that today be a day of rest. I could clean the living room for that matter but again, Sunday is the only day I have an excuse not to work and I refuse to argue with God on this one. If he wants me to rest, then I will rest. Score 1 point for Chief.

Another option you may wonder why I don't entertain is to just go do something on my own while he absorbs himself in "yee haws" and "by gollies". As a couple, we have had to come to a compromise when it comes to our separate interests. See previous post here for a refresher. So, I sit and talk to the internet and he sits in his skivvies and loses brain cells on lap at a time.

I think I'll just lie down here and take a snooze on the couch. Maybe I'll wake up and the boys will have cleaned the house for me as a surprise. Oh...to dream!

I can't wait for football season.

African thunderstorm

I remember, working at Oakcrest Girls Camp as a teenager, we would simulate rain storms this way while sitting in the big lodge or around a bonfire. It was may favorite thing. This brought back so many memories (good and bad).

This particular rendition of the Toto song is wonderful too. I keep thinking, these people are from Slovania and most are probably not fluent in English.

Shove the kids in a closet, follow the link and turn up your speakers so you don't miss one (rain) drop.

African thunderstorm


Loves, ♥

Chief

I'm going back...as soon as I clean the toilet

I broke down. I couldn't do it any longer. I'm not saying I don't love being a wife and mother, I do. I have just had enough. I like to be a wife and mother my way.
I went in to the school yesterday to make one of my numerous deliveries of school supplies that I have acquired over the past week and that's all it took. The (to do) piles accumulating in my office, the boxes of new curriculum invading the Media Center that are begging to be processed. And my friends. I miss adults. I know I could have adult conversation with other people, but I don't like other people. I like my work people.
For the good of the budget, it was decided that I would take most of the summer off and return August 3rd. I was concerned how this would affect my schedule once August came as I usually work part time all summer doing supply and curriculum inventory, bargain hunting for school supplies, preparing the Media Center for the new year and most important...escaping. Would I be able to get everything ready for the first day of school in just 3 1/2 weeks? Would I survive 6 weeks at home? For 5 years I have been juggling home, work (school), church responsibilities and work (hair clients). What would I do with myself? I was so scared! I could not bear the thought of waking up every day with no excuse for why the cupboards are a mess, the laundry in piles, pee on the toilet seats. I had the time to do all of that now. But, problem. I hate that stuff. I know, we all hate it. But I am telling you that I.really.hate.that.stuff.
I decided I would up the dose on my crazy pills, try going to the gym (pshaw), spend quality time with the boys (which I did) and try to hit RESET. Maybe this would be a good thing after so many years of running, I could have a bit of reprieve only to return to work refreshed and ready to begin the race again in August.
6 weeks is too long. I'm going back next week. I am so ready. I got a few cupboards organized, it's time to get back to work.
Funny, now that I am going back, I have motivation to clean the bathroom. Funny.

I Need a Do Over

Warning: RANT!

I'm trying to figure out if there is any way to please a 13 year old. Are they just meant to be miserable, complainers who see the glass half empty? I try to think back to my teen years and I don't recall being overly joyous, so I try to cut the adolescent some slack. It seems more and more, his mouth gets diarrhea and he spouts off about how dissatisfied he is with the hand he's dealt, ticked off because we want some alone time to watch "parent T.V." or just a minute to talk uninterrupted. He actually argued with us tonight about how we are constantly trying to get rid of them (the dependents) by forcing them to play outside or better yet, watch a movie we rented for them. His recent bouts with "the oral runs" have left us sitting with mouths agape in disbelief. Did we not just take his sorry ass(et) to Bear Lake where we gorged on ice cream and expensive restaurant fair? I distinctly recall his dad taking the entire week off from work so that he could take him to the gym to play racquetball, goof off with him at the pool, and play the part of the patient dad as he taught him how to replace a light fixture, install a water heater and fix the stove. Every waking moment this week we have spent as a family. Duke and I could go on numerous parent date nights (which we should do but don't very often), we could take couples vacations to exotic places (the kids go everywhere with us, not because we have to, but because it is important to us that our kids experience things and because a vacation for us isn't worth it without the kids. We figure there are plenty of years when they are grown).

But tonight, I'm beginning to think I have gone at this whole child rearing thing all wrong. I should've ignored them more, finished a room in the basement with all sorts of expensive entertainment so I could shove them down there the minute they get home from school each day and not have to see them until dinner, at which time I could throw them a peanut butter sandwich, Ding Dongs and a soda pop to get them through until bedtime. I should've left them in their pitiful neighborhood school, never dedicating an entire 5 years of my life building a wonderful Charter School for them to attend so that their little pea brains could be filled with enrichment. At least by neglecting them most of the time, the few things we might have done for them would have made them grateful beings. Instead, I've raised a picked on teenager. Oh to turn back the hands of time!

It's a good thing my babymaker has been retired or I might consider creating another one of these preadolescents just so I can start over and do it "right" this time. Think what I could do if I was given one more chance. I'm pleading to anyone out there who is willing to loan me one of their newborn "projects" I think I get it now and I promise to return it at puberty with a smile on it's face and a song in it's heart. (the catch is you have to take my kid until he has completed college and is gainfully employed.)

I need to go back to work. This summer off thing is killing me.

(P.S. I don't know what to do about the dam(ned) blog name crisis. Everything I come up with gets shot down by the adolescent or the husband. Maybe I should go back to the oil field thing...or maybe one of my 5 loyal readers out there can name it for me. Anywho...I'm taking suggestions.)

Please send money

So life pretty much sucks for the us right now. We returned from vacay yesterday, only to discover that our water heater crapped... (no cussing). We headed over to the Home Depot like we do every 6 years to buy a new one. The water in our city is one step better than sea water and new water heaters are just a way of life around here. Duke was too cheap to get a warranty six years ago, or we would be looking at a brand new replacement. This time I won the argument and we now have 12 years of worry free erosion for a not so small price tag of $500. I haven't showered, I have no clean clothes or dishes and Duke guarantees I will have hot water by 2 this afternoon....bullshiste (no cussing). The last time he installed one of these, I had a six month old and no hot water for 4 days. He finally let me call in a plumber after I filed for divorce. I've decided to have fun with it this time and we have a friendly wager riding on this install.

So we were already in the process of fixing the oven ignitor in the fancy new gas stove that we inherited and that wasn't exactly cheap. I haven't baked anything in over a month and that is getting old. I was hoping to get Duke to finally finish up this project today and then.well.no.water.

Just when I thought it couldn't get better, I noticed the light fixture in the kitchen needed replacement bulbs. I really should know by now that DIY is not a good idea when I have P.M.S. I get real stupid and shouldn't even be allowed to leave the house. For those of you lucky enough to have had a haircut during these times in my life, I apologize, but I do not honor refunds. Anywho, we have one of those obnoxious large bubble lights you know, the 2 ' by 4' white cloudlike things. Well, I yanked that sucker (no cussing) down and busted it right in half. I'm sure that's another $100. I'm taking Paypal donations for either our repair bills or my therapy, whichever pulls at your heartstrings. (keep in mind I have not way to bathe myself and well...you know...PMS.)

So on top of all this funness, I'm considering changing my name. I know y'all think "Chief" is such a great name, so unique, beautiful, yadayada...and I've mostly gotten used to it over the years but Elementary and Jr. High were brutal years for an early bloomer with the name Chief and I'm not sure those wounds can ever fully heal.

Anyway, I'm not even talking about my name.name. I'm talking about my blog name. Duke actually named it and it's an oil field term that means "your screwed". I liked the meaning, but quickly found out that not everyone has worked for the oil field and therefore the name is stupid. I have a few ideas for a new name (I found one scrawled on the back of a semi on the way to Bear Lake this week) so bear with me as I do a bit of an identity shift.

Send Money

Guest Post

Chief asked me to be a guest blogger while she is out of town. I decided I would kill two birds with one stone so I posted the following on my mom's blog and since she is too paranoid to allow anyone to view it without permission, Chief said it would be O.K. to copy/paste onto her blog so that everyone can hear about my wild week with Aunt Chief.

The following is what I posted only minutes ago...won't mom be surprised to find out about my blog hacking abilities!


It's about time I (the Bug) had a voice.

Mom and dad decided to take off for a week to gallivant all about the Nations Capital without me. They left me home spouting some half hearted excuse that the places they were visiting were not kid friendly. What? Has Barack not seen a dude in diapers before? Do they not allow strollers at the Lincoln Memorial? It figures! With the left wing zealots they have running that city, they wouldn't dare allow the likes of someone in disposable diapers! So bad for the environment they say...global warming...pshaw! Crazies! Mom will feel right at home...she already has me using all natural butt creams and polishes that smell like hay fields.

So, knowing mom will probably come back with a lengthy post about all of their adventures, touting babyless pictures of them shaking hands with Senators, Diplomats and other ridiculous characters, I thought it only fair that I give everyone a glimpse of my wild nights without responsible supervision. Finally, some quality time with Aunt Chief!

First, I needed internet access...and I know Viper (dad) has some pretty serious security protocol on his most prized possession, this is where Chief came in handy...

She was able to bypass the access codes, nerd security, and passwords to get me passed the welcome screen and then jumped through the ridiculous hoops to get me internet access. She busted into mom's google account and I landed safely in blog land! I checked out their life insurance (not enough), savings allocations (sub-par), and my college fund (hmpf).... then I headed off to the kitchen for a snack...

Chief tried to hone in on my ice cream and I had to defend myself with the ice cream scoop....that'll leave a mark!


We discovered a leak in the A/C closet. The carpet was starting to flood and the door was beginning to warp shut. I'm not even a licensed HVAC contractor and I saved the basement from impending doom with a simple bread sack tie wrap and tupperwear container (feel free to call me with all of your heating and air conditioner needs...I bill by the hour).

After a bit of manual labor, we decided it was time for some Barney and Friends in HD only to find out that dad is too cheap to have an HD TV. This was unacceptable to both Chief and myself so we were off to The Wal-Mart. Chief called shotgun and I grabbed the car keys.

30 minutes later,

we brought home this bad boy


We blew bubbles for hours and Chief even let me hold the bubble wand! Mom never lets me do that!

So as the sun went down, the only thing left was to invite the guys over for some (root)brewskies and Texas Hold 'em

I must admit I was exhausted after a day living on the wild side and it was time for a bath

Chief also let me run around naked after my bath much longer than mom ever does. Everything was fine until I ventured too close to the A/C vent and my bladder let loose on her expensive rug...

I had a bit of a chafe on my family jewels and I was too shy to tell Chief so I tried to take matters into my own hands...where was that magic cream mom uses when I have Wenis issues?

Chief took care of the rash and it was time to call it a day. I can't wait until mom and dad leave again to go visit their political cronies! Hopefully, they'll let Chief babysit again and we can hit some of the local haunts. I hear the Lazy Dog Saloon has Happy Hour on Mondays.

Arrivederci...I'll bring you back a raspberry milkshake

So tomorrow the Hatch's are off on a small vacay in an effort to beat the desert heat. Now that I'm wearing "layers" I can't seem to cool myself down. We are heading off to Bear Lake for a few days (actually we are staying in Logan because we can get free hotel stays at Holiday Inn from Duke's frequent stay points or whatever they are called...I don't care, all I know is it's free.) We will drive through the canyon each morning to the lake and enjoy all the festivities to be had. I burned a few CD's of my favorite music (a little Phantom of the Opera, Fleetwood Mac, Daughtry and Cook), I made sure the boys all had their headphones so they can listen to their "noise" and leave mine alone. I plan to make myself sick on raspberry milkshakes and then find a tree and read a book. Hopefully the boys will find something to do without me. Our favorite restaurant is in Logan (Cafe Sabor) and we have been known to take off on a whim and drive to Logan just to gorge on a fajita burrito. If you haven't had the pleasure, you are missing one of the seven wonders of the world my friends.

In my absence I have arranged for a guest blogger to post for me. Hopefully he won't be taking a nap or out playing ball. I can't wait until I get back to see what he has come up with.

Until then...Arrivederci (that's Italian for goodbye. I'm bilingual ya know (O.K. so I googled it cuz I didn't know exactly how to spell it but I still came up with the word myself dammit)).

BTW, it's not cussing if you spell it wrong.

I think I need Evian

I have been a lazy blogger. Only posting things I steal from others. I actually have a good excuse for the laziness as I am watching my sister's 16 month old while she gallivants all over the east coast for a week. Just a bit sleep deprived but maybe if I try Evian instead of generic bottled water I will be able to get my groove on.

Is this a Confessional?

K...so I know it's a bit creepy that I stalked my friend from high school to get this post. I actually was scoping out her Facebook page and came across this little tidbit from one of her FB friends. I couldn't help but post it. It is too good not to share. Maybe I should have asked permission but I don't know the guy and anyway FB is public right?

Anyway, so this is a singles ward for ages 31 to 45, for those of you who aren't LDS (I doubt there are any out there who read me that aren't, but if there are GREAT! I love you) this may not mean as much to you, but I think you can still appreciate the comments. (BTW if you are a non-member, feel free to e-mail me and I would love to fill you in...we really aren't as strange as you might think :o)

Start of quote:
So, many people have been asking what went down at Testimony Meeting today. Here is how I remember it. If you were there, I would like to know if I am right and if I missed anything because I did walk out. Anyway, here it is:

I bore my testimony first and kept it short and sweet and there were like two after me. Then this OLD guy gets up, who I've seen before at church but always assumed he was someone's father visiting from out of town. I shall now try to transcribe what he said.

Old Guy: "I know I'm not a part of this ward but I'm here cause I have my eye on a young lady here."

??????!!!!!!!! He honestly looks like he's in his 60s!!! I can't even imagine who he's stalking....

Old Guy: "I've been married before. My first marriage was a temple marriage and she ended up breaking our vows. I decided to forgive her and we had a recommitment ceremony up in Cottonwood Canyon, but I guess she wasn't into it because she cheated again. I got married a second time for six months until she started sleeping with the 2nd counselor in the bishopric and now I'm single. Not to say that I'm perfect, because I have many sins. I've killed a cat. It was my cat and she peed on the floor twice and I got so angry I killed her."

It was at this point I couldn't handle it anymore and got up and walked out with every intention of going home. While I was out in the lobby debating leaving I heard something about how he slammed his daughter's nose into a door but he's repented and how he is homeless and has "been living out of his car and a 20' x 16' shed and I take showers at the gym and I'm so thankful that I have $20/month to take those showers. People judge me for taking showers there on Sunday because they know I'm Mormon but I don't care. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen."
End of Quote

I'm not sure what more I can add to this except that there a days I wish I had this guy show up in our ward. Just to keep us on our toes. My sister has a kooky lady in her ward that we got to experience when her baby was blessed. To this day, we quote some of her best bits.

I hope the gal he was stalking was impressed. Maybe she has a (pet free) home she can share that has it's own shower!

In Desperate Need of an Indonesian Make Over

Well, as you can see, I needed a change so I thought I would get a more grown up blog template rather than bleach my hair white and buy all new Gothic make-up. I found one I liked (I wanted a 3 column for some reason) and added it. The problem is the HTML code is in Indonesian. SO, now I am determined to make it work, however I am having to use an online English to Indonesian translation program to figure out how to navigate the code.

I just wanted to explain myself to those who might be confused with the "Lady of the Night" who has spread herself across my header. I AM WORKING ON IT! You will be relieved to know that I already figured out how to remove the scarlet lips from my background). So until I have the bugs worked out I felt it best to block my children from accessing the blog (I should've done this long ago anyway) I suggest y'all do the same.

I also want to add the links to every one's blogs but that may take a while (I am still trying to figure out what Ungul means in Indonesian).

Oh well, I needed something to do this summer. By the time I figure it out, I will be bored with it and will go back to the "kitchie" look anyway.

Update: Got the hooker off, now working on an appropriate header.

Attacking the Zealot Left Wingnuts

Now, those of you who know me well, know that I adore animals. You know I bought a king sized bed so my pets could have enough room to sleep comfortably with me and I have been caught spoon feeding my dogs Ben and Jerry's ice cream. You also know I do have limits...which brings me to the reason for my post:

I found this in the headlines.

All I have to say to PETA is "We are fighting a war here where real human beings are dying every day". Get over yourselves! Kick off your plastic shoes, take off your polyester beanies (it's 95 degrees anyway), shave your nasty armpits, ride your ten speeds downtown and get a real job. Or better yet, go feed the homeless PEOPLE, visit the orphanages in Romania and give a CHILD a hug.

FOR HELL SAKES!

P.S. We (America) (not me, and maybe not you either)) should never have elected Obama. With precision like that, had we enlisted him in the Special Forces, he would have hunted down Bin Laden in less than 10 seconds and obliterated him and our soldiers could be home with their families as we speak.

P.P.S (I love parentheses)

P.P.P.S. Make sure you play the video in the above Reuters report...then go here for a giggle.

P.P.P.P.S. No offense intended to the zealots, really...you can wear what you want and stink like butt. To each his own, I'm tolerant like that.

P.P.P.P.P.S. I didn't cuss once in this post! (Hell doesn't count)