An Olympic Hangover

I must say that volleyball is probably one of my favorite sports to watch, whether live or on TV. It also happens to be one of my favorite sports to play. I do like watching football as well, but volleyball tends to be quicker and keeps you on the edge of your seat, like ALL THE TIME.
The last 2 nights I've stayed up late (late for me is 11 p.m.) to watch May and Walsh win the Women's Gold in Beach Volleyball and last night I watched Dalhausser and Rogers win the Men's Gold in Beach Volleyball. It was mother efin awesome. Loved it.
However I do have say I've got that Olympic Hangover that everyone has been talking about, staying up past our bedtimes in order to watch live events in Bejing China. Making work suck the next day.
It does however piss me off a little bit, when the announcers make excuses for the way the players play.
"Oh Rogers missed that set, but that ball is probably pretty wet coming off of Dalhausser's arms, just slipped through his hands too much..." and "Oh May missed that one, with this rain coming down the ball just slipped off her arm..."
I'm sorry but that is not how it works. Rogers carried the ball plain and simple he was trying to guide the set a little too much to get it to his partner and he carried it plain and simple.
I just thought it was funny how many errors were caused because the heat was causing the players to sweat extensively and they weren't able to have control over the ball. I'm a sweater, I know as well as anyone, that excuse is bs.
And the rain making a bump go ary I'm sorry probably not the reason, she missed the pass because she wasn't lined up, she wasn't completly behind the ball and had no control over it. The only excuse they had for missing stuff in the rain is ya the spikes becuase they are looking up into the rain when they hit, same thing with the block but actually not as much with the block.
But enough ranting about that, on to the 4x100 relay.
I must say pathetic.
I have been pretty dissapointed in the American athletes in the track and field events. Normally track and field is all about the USA. Not so much this year.
We did sweep the men's 400 meters but that was about the only highlight from Fridays events (Bejing Time, Thursday night here) That freakin 400 relay pissed me off to no end.
Both the men and the women's teams were disqualified. Both teams dropped the baton on the last pass, just 100 meters to go to make it into the finals. USA has never missed the finals of an Olympic 400 meter relay since the relay's inception in like 1928. That is pretty pathetic.
Its like all they had to do was get that thing around the track and they were in, the runners are fast enough they would've qualified even if the lead runner looked back to grab the baton (not normal procedure)
And the women had to of known that the men had been dsq so why didn't they say to themselves "get this thing around the track even if you have to stop to put it in my hands." I don't know, I just know it sucked.
Sucked mostly for them I'm sure, becuase thier olympic dream was shattered before they even got a chance to create it.
I'm holding out hope for the 4x400 relay thought since the USA went 1,2,3 in the men's 400. I'm expecting gold in that too, unless someone screws it up.

Uninteresting deep thoughts

I just got done reading this blog and I thought “Wow, she brings up a good question.” How well do we know each other?

How many of us hide who we truly are? How many of us are not the same person behind closed doors? How many of us put on faces?

Not counting Mr. Vasey or my close relatives, I have like 6 people I would consider very close friends. People I talk to on a regular basis, people who have been through my own self inflicted hells with me and back again. They know me … pretty well I think, but then again I think, how well? I don’t know.

Each of us carries with us a bit of self-centeredness that I think may keep us from knowing everything about a person. That self-centeredness sort of makes us not really care about the other person, like we don’t care enough to know all the details. That mixed with the combination of not sharing everything about ones life can lead to an abundance of secrets, the kind of secrets that generally only come out when one is drunk or half way to sleep. And neither person remembers the secrets the next day, or are too scared to talk about them.

In high school, one of my best friends was my next door neighbor. From door to door, I could run to her house in less than 30 seconds. When her mom grounded her, which happened a lot (for no apparent reason sometimes) I would smuggle a walkie-talkie to her and I would sit on the curb and talk to her from her bedroom. Her mom saw what I was doing one night and she thwarted our walkie talkie rendezvous from that point on. Can’t fault us for trying though.

We were best friends from the day she moved in, I think I was in the third or fourth grade and she was a year ahead of me in school. We played Barbie’s, rode our bikes around the hood, talked to boys on the phone and she tried to teach me how to drive a stick-shift.

As we got older I knew she was depressed, she was a beautiful girl, but had low self-esteem. Her usual mode was to cut her wrists never enough to really hurt herself, but enough to draw attention.

When I was a junior in high school, I remember her name being mentioned over the loud speaker in the morning as an absence for the day. We were a small enough school that’s how they let the teachers know, that a student wouldn’t be in class for that day. I remember thinking it was strange because I was at her house the night before. We watched 90210, and I remember she said something about how she didn’t think Tori Spelling was really all that pretty. I agreed with her. We chatted some more, then I had to leave.

I wasn’t living at my parents house at the time, as it was gutted from a remodeling project so Treebee and I were staying with our grandparents out on the farm. She seemed normal that night, I wouldn’t say anything out of the ordinary. I didn’t see any signs. Or did I not care to see the signs?

My teacher, Mrs. Hoffman, knew Heather and I were good friends; she pulled me aside and told me what had happened. Apparently Heather had tried to commit suicide the night before, she was in the hospital, she tried to OD. Her mom found her up in her room surrounded by piles of her own vomit. And I was the last friend to see her before she decided to swallow a bottle Tylenol. (I don’t think she knew that it wouldn’t necessarily kill her, she hoped, though it did fuck up her liver)

The doctors weren’t sure how her liver was going to fair; she was on sketchy ground for a while. I remember being pissed her mother didn’t tell me, but I think the whole family was embarrassed. In a small town news travels fast and bad news travels even faster. They knew everyone was talking about them. And I’m sure, worried about their daughter, they were trying to protect her as much as they could.

When I went to see her at the hospital, she again seemed fine. She didn’t talk about it, and honestly I don’t recall ever talking about it with her. I don’t know if she got the help she needed or not. She of course survived and has three beautiful children, so she did overcome.

But I guess it brings me back to my point, I knew her, I was with her. I really think she hoped to do the job that night and I didn’t know.

I’m so glad she has succeeded in life, and I’m also glad she failed in taking it.

I'm roofing my house

Ok so I'm not. But I do have shingles.
It sort of baffels me. Here I am, a pretty healthy 31 year old. I have only been on 1 antibiotic in about 20 years. I don't have cancer (that I'm aware of) I don't have HIV/AIDS (that I'm aware of) I'm not over 60 and frankly I'm not stressed out, so why the hell do I keep getting it?
The other 2 times I feel were explained by the stress that I was under those made at least a little sense to me, but this time ... not so much.
Grrrrr
Well this much is true, I'm a little tired today after getting free food and booze at a baseball game last night and not going to bed till after midnight.
I really need to think about going to bed at a decent time at some point.

Going Ol' Skool

I got to thinking about some of my favorite movies while growing up.
Now these are those movies that I would never say are the best movies ever. That list would be very hard for me, and most of the movies on that list would probably be more recent movies.
No this list is going to be those movies that were more of a staple for the young 80's - 90's youth. I'm sure there were some criticaly acclaimed movies in the late 80's early 90's, but these aren't them.

Pretty Woman - This is great becuase Julia Roberts and Richard Gere were in it and I loved those 2 when I was about 16, but also you know this film is great when you can walk up to just about any woman and ask her for a line from the movie and without hesitation she'll give one to you....my favorite "You should go for him. You look hot tonight. Don't take less than $100. Call me when you're through. Take care of you"

Breakfast Club - Nothing is better than watching Molly Ringwald apply lipstick with her clevage...awesome. Principal Vernon "The next time I have to come in here I'm crackin' skulls." That guy was such a douche bag.

Can't Buy Me Love - Has to probably be in the top 2 for me. This is a classic I wanted to be Cindy Mancini so bad. She had the cool Rabbit VW, cheerleader. What was even better is, this movie as on all the time on like TBS or something.

Beaches - This was the first movie I ever cried in. "Now and Then" was the last. I don't really cry at movies.

Drop Dead Fred - Thank God for this movie. It saved me one summer of babysitting.

Ace Ventura Pet Detective - Reeheheheheeeeaaaaalllly. Actually AVPD might be on my all time top ten list. Yes I know my standards aren't very high. Loved this movie. And hey Dan Marino was in it. This movie has some of the best quotes and I still use some of them today.
-If I'm not back in five minutes... just wait longer.
-Well, I'm not really ready for a relationship, Lois, but thank you for asking. Hey, maybe I'll give you a call sometime. Your number's still 911? All righty then.
-Captain's Log, stardate 23.9, rounded off to the... nearest decimal point. We've... traveled back in time to save an ancient species from... total annihilation. SO FAR... no... signs of aquatic life, but I'm going to find it. If I have to tear this universe another black hole, I'm going to find it. I've... GOT TO, MISTER
-Why do you care about Snowflake? Do you know him? Does he call you at home? Do you have a dorsal fin? To train ze dolphin you must zink like ze dolphin! You must be getting inside ze dolphin's head. I am saying to Snowflake, "Akay!... Akay Akay Akay?" und he is saying "AKay Akay!" und he is up on ze tail "Eeeeeeeeee!" und you can quote him!
-Holy Testicle Tuesday
-I came to confess. I was the second gunman on the grassy knoll.

I actually used to perform those last few for friends and family whenever I felt the urge. A bit of my middle child syndrome coming out I guess, always trying to be the center of attention. I think I still have my Authentic Pet Detective Card somewhere. I really should find it, could be a career to fall back on.

Paralysis

So I didn't mention this to a lot of people, becuase I figured everything would be fine. And it was.
My father had surgery on his neck last Friday. Right before he went on his camping trip to Canada he started losing the feeling in his right arm, and by the end of the trip he couldn't feel nor move his right arm. So he came home, saw the doctor and had surgery.
Now there are a couple of things about his that leave a person just shaking their head.
1. My father has actually been having problems for three years, he was going to have something done a long time ago, but for some odd reason he kept putting it off, until it got so bad that he may not have full use of his arm again.
Now you might feel sorry for him (or you may not) but also what I find interesting (interesting about my dad that is) is that this is the second time he has done this. He doesn't have full use of his foot becuase he let a pinched nerve go for too long and he walks with a limp. So why did he wait so long?
2. If he was feeling something going on before why did he not get to a doctor right away. Well I guess going fishing is more important than losing limbs...I know it is more important than his daughters wedding (oh but I digress, and my mom admitted that it was her fault anyway, but I'm still going to bring it up)
So this is just a reminder to me in my old age not to let things go I guess. Because I hate the doctor. No I serioulsy hate the doctor. I only go to my girly doctor, that's it. And doing that raises my blood pressure and anxiety so much that she thinks I'm on my death bed when I walk through her door.
Forgive me though I don't like getting my cooch looked at and my boobs rubbed by strange people, and I definitaly have huge issues peeing in a cup.
But evidently he is able to make a fist now, so he should get the use back.

Good Pussy Cleans

Ok this will be the end of animal stories for a little bit, but I thought of this while writing yesterday’s and decided it deserved to be told as well.
Niner and I adopted two kitties. Mine was named Doogie (after Doogie Houser MD) and hers was named Cheeto, because he was orange like a Cheeto.
Our cats were really a pain in the arse. They weren’t neutered yet so they sprayed all over the house and our house smelled like shit and cat piss a lot of the time. They were a bit adventurous and likened to being escape artists as well.
Our house was a 2 story house and they had tore out a hole in the screen window upstairs and were jumping out of it to escape the house. So yes, kitties can fall 2 stories and live, ours did it all the time.
The best thing about our cats that we learned is that they are very proficient at cleaning up food.
Niner and I got pretty drunk one night, and yes I know it was naughty but we decided to drive to Mexico for some nachos. (No not the country Mexico, we called Texaco, Mexico because they had a tasty little Mexican food bar you could order from damn near all hours of the night, worked wonders on my waistline)
So we went to Mexico for some burritos and nachos, and I’m driving home, when Niner the klutz, spills her nachos everywhere. We are talking nacho cheese, jalapeños, meat, sour cream all over my car dash, upholstery, consol ect. It was a mess.
We got home and I was trying to clean it out before it got sundried by the morning heat the next day, when Niner comes out of the house, she’s just a bit tipsy when she says, “Why should we have to clean out the car when we have these…” and from behind her back she pulls out Cheeto and Doogie.
I laughed I couldn’t believe she was serious. But she was. We rolled up the windows, threw the cats in and closed the door. We went inside the house ate our burritos, probably drank a beer or two, then went back out and checked on our little spot cleaners.
The car was immaculate, not a spot of cheese in site. Their little tongues were working double time as though we hadn’t fed them in a week. I was also too drunk to be too worried about how the litter box would smell for the next day or two, what was important is, those 2 little guys cleaned that car out way better than I or God knows Niner ever would have been able to.
Bitch never did clean the puke off of my car, had to finally do that myself. Or wait was it K-Dog (my other roommate) that puked out my car….eh, they probably both did at one time.

Chuck Fact: Peeing the bed

A high tide means Chuck Norris is flying over your coast. The tide is caused by God pissing his pants.

I was babysitting for somebody once and spent the night over at their house because I was going to be watching the kids the whole weekend. While sleeping I had a dream that I got up went to the bathroom and all, well I woke up in the morning and realized I had actually wet the bed.
Luckily since they still had young kids they did happen to have one of these plastic protectors on the bed to keep the pee on the mattress, but they had one of those foam egg crate things that I ended up peeing on. So the whole next day I spent cleaning the sheets and spraying down the bed to keep anything from smelling like piss.
Peed my pants one other time as an adult as well.
I came back to my dorm room, my freshman year in college and was so drunk, I rationalized peeing the bed as to getting up and actually walking down the hall to the bathroom.
In my drunk head that night, it seemed like the best idea, not such a great idea the next day….

Going to the farm

I used to have a cat when I was a kid, her name was Cuddles. She was a calico cat and we all liked her. And she got along well with my dog Fluffy.
I think Cuddles liked me, even though I almost killed her once. She was one of those cats that were always under you feet, well I was messing around one day and she was following me around as usual, and the day ended with Cuddles being put on a weeks worth of bed rest.
How it all happened was fairly innocent, but I felt like the fattest person ever after it happened.
We had this railing on the back porch that protected people from falling down the basement stairs. The railing was made of wood and was pretty solid, and I leaned on it and brought my feet up off the floor talking to whoever it was that went downstairs to the basement. When I hopped down off the railing little Cuddles ran under my feet and I landed on her and crushed her.
Oh the agony she must’ve been in…Oh the little pussy, she lived, but like I said, we had to make her this makeshift bed thing that would keep her from moving around she broke like her pelvis and some ribs or something. Or rather I broke her pelvis and some ribs.
She went on to even have a litter of kitties. She was a tough little pussy.
However once she had the kitties, my mom decided to ship her and her kitties off to the farm. (Now we really did ship her off to the farm, since we did know people that had farms) But now that I think about it, maybe my mom did have them all killed, cuz she said that as soon as she dropped Cuddles off she just took off and ran away, and no one has seen her. Ya I bet no one has seen her….
Being a kind of rural farm type of family I am actually a bit surprised by how willing my mom has been to take our family pets to the vet.
First there was Cuddles, then a few years later on Christmas Eve, came Fluffy.
Fluffy was a wondering dog, we never put her on a leash. She came inside at night and slept under my bed. We just called her name and sooner or later she would come running.
She had tags but no one ever had to call us, as she always came home.
We, as in my whole family, were spending Christmas Eve as we normally spent all Christmas Eves. We were at my G-ma Wittes house. Shortly after we got there the phone rang, it was my other Grandparents, informing my Dad that Fluffy had been hit by a car.
I was pretty upset, crying hysterically, because Dorkus (my brother) was on his way back into town to pick up Fluffy and take him out to shoot her, put her out of her misery.
See this is what normally happens when an animal gets hurt. You put them out of their misery. You don’t take them to the vet. But for some strange reason, maybe it was my hysterics or maybe my Mom just got in the Christmas Spirit, she let us save Fluffy and take her to the vet. Thing is, I had to stop my brother from taking her out to shoot her.
My sister, Ang and I jumped in a car and took off to catch Dorkus, we found him on his way out with Fluffy by his side, he was crying. Fluffy was really his dog, that’s why he wanted to be the one to take care of her. We informed him that we could take her to the vet, we could save her.
So we took her to the vet and she just needed some stitches, I think she may have broken some bones, but again we made up our makeshift bed and kept Fluffy on bed rest for a few days then she was fine.
I don’t know if it was from the surgery or if she was always like this, but she had this way of wagging her tail that she kinda would get so excited that she’d bring her ass to one side, wagging her tail furiously like she couldn’t control it.
And again Mom struck.
When we were remodeling our house, Treebee and I had to stay out at G-Pa and G-Ma Wittes house. While there Mom took Fluffy to the Humane Society. (Pet Pound) She thought we wouldn’t notice since she claims she was the only one that took care of her. (Well of course she was, Treebee and I weren’t even there) So she dropped her off, without asking us, or furthermore without even telling us she did.
We came by one weekend and asked “Hey Mom, where’s Fluffy”Let me tell ya took her a long time to answer that one. (I’m still pretty bitter about it)
Guess she didn’t want Fluffy messing up her new carpets….Ya, I know….

Tastes like chicken

I kinda hate it when all I have for lunch is a bologna sandwich. No chips, no cookie no Jello Pudding Snack. Nothing. Just 2 pieces of white bread, one slice of cheese, and one slice of bologna and some mayo.
Now that is some cheap ass shiznet.
Yup I’m poor right now.
This whole poor thing is working well into my whole losing weight thing though. Not quite in the same as this little girl I was reading about who lost her parents in the Cyclone in Myanmar. But I am getting close.
I don’t think I’ll have to resort to cannibalism, but if My Hubby eats my turkey meat one more time I might have to resort to eating his ass.
I say ass because I’ve heard that the ass is the best part of the human to eat. I read Alive, and that’s what they ate first, nice juicy ass. (Alive is the story about that Uruguayan Rugby team that got stuck in the Andes Mountains in the 70’s.)
Alive is actually a good book; I’d suggest reading it to most people. Kinda makes you think about the lengths you would go to, to survive.
Personally I don’t think I would kill someone for their ass, but if they were already dead and I needed to eat, I think I would eat their ass. But only for survival, I’m not going to start walking by dead people and cutting off their asses or nothing, that’s gross.

And on the 5th day God created rain

Ok so he didn't, but the alien vortex that was strategically located above my quiet and quaint little suburb must have moved because we actually got some rain.
Now finally I can take off brain protector and stop the strange looks I've been getting for the last 2 months.
And it was a good rain, it woke me up at about 4 a.m. with lightning flashing and thunder rolling.
I love that, I love it becuase it scares me and I have to reach over and grab my hubby, to make sure he is still there, and then snuggle in with him. Its probably one of the best feelings in the world.
I love waking up to a thunderstorm unless I actually have to get up. Thunderstorms and rain are like the best things to sleep into...oh man its getting me in the mood for fall and winter, with chilly mornings and overcast sky, the kind of days when coffee tastes the best.
Man I wish summer didn't last so damn long in this dang blasted state.