2 Hours After Sunset (and 10pm on weeknights)

It's true.  We Americans love to celebrate our independence day.  It's crazy how much we spend here in the United States for our fireworks.  $600 million!!!  {{source}}

As a kid I loved going to fireworks shows and I loved it even more when my parents let us make "air designs" with sparklers.  I'd write my name and make squiggly twirls and all sorts of amazing things in 20 short seconds.

We never really bought much more than sparklers, as my parents preferred popping our own popcorn and finding a free fireworks show to attend rather than spending the month's budget on light-em-yourself firecrackers.  I admit as I became a parent, I felt a childish giddiness take over me when I bought my first fireworks to light at home.  Putting on your own little show in the driveway can be fun and let's face it, it's nice to NOT have to get to a park hours in advance to save a prime fireworks viewing spot and then wait forever in traffic to get home.  So, I don't blame many for wanting to have their own fireworks at home.  

The problem is, we're not talking sparklers here folks, or just on the 4th.  Many will shoot off fireworks several nights throughout the month.  Aerials, poppers, squealers, all of it.  And things in the night are ALWAYS louder than during the day.  And they especially seem louder when the neighbors are shooting them off at midnight in the middle of the week and your own littles can't sleep because of the noise and you yourself have to get up in 5 hours to get to work.  

My message?  Be Considerate.

So, what's the rule regarding fireworks?  Well, that is up to each city's ordinances, and they do vary, by the way.  Some have no rule, while others say nothing past curfew (10pm).  Many city ordinances allow fireworks for up to 2 hours after sunset.  (Which is typically what - 8:30, 9 pm?)

But just because that is what's allowed, doesn't mean it's POLITE or appropriate.  Proper fireworks etiquette would be this:

No shooting off fireworks 2 hours after sunset, and not after 10pm on weeknights.

Seriously.  I've had littles with bed times MUCH earlier than 10pm.  And while much of the nation is on summer break from school, many of the districts I've lived in are on a year-round schedule.  Not to mention, just because it's summer break doesn't mean every parent in your neighborhood is letting their littles stay up.

So, be considerate.  Pay attention to sunset and don't shoot fireworks off 2 hours after that, or after 10pm on weeknights.  Sure, you might think your neighbors do not care, since they haven't ever mentioned it before.  But I guarantee, unless they are right outside shooting them off with you, you are making SOMEONE in the neighborhood ticked off.   Honestly, it's plain rude. 

I've lived in neighborhoods before where one or two households would light off fireworks until well past midnight.  And as much as I liked my neighbors, it really irritated me of their lack of sensitivity to the others that lived on the block.  Did I ever ask them not to?  Did I ever call the police?  No...  turns out I'm much too passive-aggressive for that.  I really hate confrontations.  :)

So, unless you live in the middle of nowhere, without a neighbor in sight for miles, be polite.  

Don't shoot your fireworks off 2 hours after sunset or after 10p on weeknights.

Does Size Really Matter?

Well, when shopping and buying in bulk many experts will tell you that, yes, size matters! It's how you get the biggest bang for your buck! Well, I am here to tell you that when it comes to certain products, I don't like the big sizes!

The one "super-size" I hate most is Peanut Butter. Wide-Mouth Peanut Butter Jars? Ugh! In fact, "hate" isn't even strong enough. It's safe to say I DESPISE it. Yes, it's true. I prefer to buy my peanut butter in normal, even SMALL jars. Why?

The first few dips are fine, but when you get about halfway down, it never fails. Getting peanut butter out of the jar is like diving in head first!

And while I prefer to use a small rubber scraper, the kidlets don't think twice about taking the knife to the jar. Then, not only do they get peanut butter up and down their arms, but somehow, they manage to get it up and down and all over the outside of the jar and lid. //Groans//

Henceforth, all wide-mouth jars of peanut butter have been banned from my house. I now wait until the much smaller kid-friendly jars are on sale 10/$10 and buy 20 of them.

Well, I don't know about you... but I feel better now! LOL!

My Cat Hates Me

Remember last week when I told you about one of my cats hating my bra? (Check it out {{HERE}} if you need a refresher.)

Well, I came upon something else recently. Let me back up and offer a little, teensy-weensy, admission here. I prefer to sleep with socks on. I have my reasons and to go into them now would take up this entire post, and we're here to talk about a feline felony.

So, the other night I wore my socks to bed as usual. At some point it must have gotten a little too warm for my liking, because I apparently - In.My.Sleep - discarded the hoodie I was wearing, and one of my socks. Also, I apparently - In.My.Sleep - tossed both the hoodie and the one sock across the room, landing just in front of the full-length mirror.

The next morning, it was one of THOSE mornings. You know the sort. The alarm either didn't go off or I somehow managed to turn it off without realizing it - In.My.Sleep - thereby creating a domino effect of everyone being late for school, and me late for work. Time for breakfast? Surely, you gest. Nope. The morning was more like me, running around like a chicken with it's head cut off (which incidentally, I've always been curious about. It actually might be a comical sight to see.), calling out names for this child and that child to get their backpacks, brush their teeth, put on deodorant, yadda, yadda, yadda, and meet me in the car.

Obviously, I did not find the additional 30 seconds it probably would have taken for me to pick up the hoodie and sock from the floor and take care of them properly. It just wasn't a priority.

So, that night when I was getting ready for bed, I figured - eh, I'll just wear the same socks and hoodie. Not like it matters, right? They're just jammies and it's not like I'm having any company. (Don't look down on me. I know you wear your jammies more than once before washing too!) Okay, so back to the sock. I reached for the sock and guess what!?!?!? Yup. It was cold and clammy and W-E-T!

I figured the cat just hated my bra! But, now it seems that this is becoming a little more personal. Especially because both kitties are litter-box trained. And especially since they haven't had accidents in the five months we've had them. Looking back, the only change that had occurred has been their little "fix-it" and de-clawing surgeries.

It's a conspiracy. The cats are trying to get back at me for taking away their scratching powers, for stripping them of knowing what is was going to be like to be a mama-cat in heat. If only they would realize it's all for their own good. But that is the only thing I can think of.

Maybe some cat nip is in order... like a peace-offering or something. I've heard it's like weed, for cats. That should be good, right?

Someone Should Teach them to READ

The other day I had to go straight from work to school. Problem. I really had to pee. Second problem. I had already left work. Third problem. The drive to campus is at least 20 minutes, and the luxury of time is not on my side when one has a bladder as small as a bird, such as I. Not to mention the potential problem if I had not stopped and had gotten into any sort of accident, or heaven forbid a coughing fit on the way to class. The chances of NOT peeing my pants??? Well, let's just say they were slim to none; especially as I have had Bronchitis since around Christmas, and the Doctor predicts another 3 weeks or so of the intense coughing fits.

However, my house is in between work and the freeway entrance. Problem solved! Swing by the house and tinkle! Easy-peasy, right? But, once I am home, I decide my skirt and stockings are not as comfy, nor as warm as my jeans.

So imagine if you will, me -- doing the "pee dance" while running around shedding both the skirt and the stockings. (FYI -- the pee dance is a real thing. If you don't believe me, check it out {HERE}, {HERE}, or {HERE}).

Then just as I race to the bathroom, the door bells rings. Not once, but twice. I let out a "You gotta be kidding me!", thinking it was one of my kids or something. I mean, who rings twice, consecutively like "Ding-Dong, Ding-Dong"?? I race to the door and peep through the peep hole (Best Invention EVER!) and see that it is the Dish Network guy with a clipboard.

As I ignore his ringing, I run to the restroom, muttering under my breath things like, "I don't have time for you, Dish Man! Can't you see my "No Soliciting" sign? Let me guess -- you're gonna try and tell me you're NOT selling me anything, but you just want to *INFORM* me about the services in my area... sorta like the stunt the Siding Dudes tried to pull last week."

By the time I had finished my business and scurried to my car to leave, the Dishman had left too. But seriously... I am soooo tired of "sales" people trying to tell me they are NOT trying to sell me something. I mean, really? What is the point of them coming then? I know it wasn't a service call since I do not even have dish!

I did tell the guys from a few weeks ago (who were just letting me know they were offering FREE quotes on siding) that as much as I wasn't concerned about siding, I surely didn't want to waste my time listening to a spiel about something they WEREN'T trying to sell me.

They were sort of caught off guard. The one looked at the other like, "Well, now what?" I wasn't rude or anything. I was very polite in fact. But when they just stood there with the deer-in-the-headlights look, I took it as my cue to continue; try an educate them, if you will.

"Not only are you NOT going to win my business by trying to sell me something while pretending NOT to sell me something, but you also insult my intelligence if you think that I am going to believe that you are out here outta the goodness of your heart. {{insert chuckle here}} (Light chuckles seem to help me not feel so mean, hehe.) You're certainly not working for free. So clearly the only reason you'd be at my door at nearly 8:30 in the evening when my door is obviously marked "no soliciting" {{points to sign}} is because you are desperate for a sale."

Again, they continued with the deer-in-the-headlights look. I think one may have even dropped his jaw at this point. And finally, I simply smiled and said, "Good night, gentlemen." and shut the door.

I felt empowered, because I didn't have the exhaustion of trying to argue with a salesperson. It totally bugs me that they are not adhering to the sign. I mean, seriously... unless you are a friend, family, neighbor, the census taker, the pizza delivery guy (with a free pizza!) or someone in a volunteer search party looking for a body that someone may have stuffed in my basement while I was at work (which actually happened -- the search party part, not that someone put a dead body in my basement part), then please do not come a knocking at my door.

Maybe I oughta get one of these signs...

Talk About It Tuesday

What's bugging you lately? Let's talk about it! After all, it's "Talk About it Tuesday!"

Things that bug me:

Because my FB status is "single" I get all sorts of singles ads on my FB side bar. One says, "Would you like to meet attractive men?" I mean, really? What kind of question is that? Ummm... no. I think I'll try one of the ugly ones... I'm sort of tired of the hot, sexy, attractive ones.

When I don't need to be anywhere early and yet that is the one morning I find myself wide awake at 6am! Grrrrr....

Wet towels on the bathroom floor.

When I forget to turn my phone on silent and my friend calls me while I am at church and everyone turns to look at me just as I remember my phone is tucked securely into my bra strap. Yeah... that bugs.

When people write sentences and don't bother using correct punctuation or any punctuation for that matter it's hard to know whether they are making a statement or asking a question the only statement I believe them to be making is that they are too lazy or too ignorant to know how to punctuate a paragraph correctly wouldn't you say if not at least they should remember from third grade the appropriate places for periods.

So, there you go -- that's what's bugging me lately. How about you? C'mon, don't be shy ~ It's Talk About it Tuesday! :)

The Opt-Out

DISCLAIMER - It is not the intent of the author to offend or harm any readers, especially those readers who may be educators, parents of students or parent-volunteers/PTA members. Please note the views expressed herein are my own and do not necessarily represent the views of other slacker moms. Oh yeah, and objects in mirror may be larger than they appear. :)
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All right, so I was gonna let this one slide, but then I thought, "Nah... what fun would THAT be?"

Wanna know what else I can't stand besides signing Student Planners and Reading Logs? Yep. I knew you would!

School fund-raisers. Bleh! HATE.THEM. Wanna know WHY I hate them? Besides the fact that they remind me of political candidates soliciting for campaign funds and the one with the most money wins? Ummm... well, that is pretty much the reason. That and because I am a Slacker Mom and Fund-Raisers take up a lot of time.

Face it. Fund-raisers are mere manipulation tactics to get kids to do the grunt work for the adults in charge. Hahaha! I remember when I was a kid, all of the fund-raisers we had. Raffle tickets for Little League. Candy Bars for Choir. Wrapping paper and Holiday Tins for the PTA. Selling tickets for Chili Suppers, Fish Fry's, Port-a-pit chicken, and so on and so forth. Here is how it went down...

There'd be some assembly put on by some high-enthusiastic individual so smooth he could sell contacts to a blind man! He'd spend about 35 minutes brainwashing the entire student body into believing that for "only" getting a certain number of sales, they could WIN ALL of these FABULOUS PRIZES!!! The Big News would be buzzing through the corridors for the rest of the day as the bright white packets containing carbon copy order forms were tucked into backpacks just itching to get home and start the selling! The smooth sales man made it sound so simple. Just a few phone calls to a grandma or neighbor telling them what you need their order for and - BAM! Just like that, you could have a sale! Who wouldn't want to support a kid, right?

The problem was there 7 of us kids and usually only 1 relative that would ever buy anything from us anyway. The rest were either Amish or out of the area. My parents didn't really have extra $$ to be buying fancy tins of English Toffee. Next we'd dig out the church directory and divide up amongst us whom would call whom. Usually we'd each call 4-5 members of the congregation and then be lucky if ONE committed to ordering. Then, it was off to pound the pavement and knock some doors. We'd go in pairs, like little proselytizers trying to convince the neighbors why they needed to spend $16.50 on a small tin of caramel corn (serving size 1.5). We weren't rich and therefore didn't live in a rich neighborhood. The majority of residents within a 2 block radius of our house were elderly people on fixed incomes. Like they were going to spend $16.50 on popcorn!

Then, Monday would roll around and a few of us would skip happily to school, fund-raiser packets in tote THRILLED at the 1 or 2 sales we managed to scrounge up only to find out that someone like Angie Troyer (whose father owned Troyer Poultry) had over 1,000 orders for fancy-schmancy, overpriced, chocolate-covered pretzels and double-dipped Christmas cookies! All she had to do was spend one afternoon at her daddy's office and ~ BAM!~ She became the proud winner of the pair of free Roller Rink passes and the brand new DISC CAMERA, not to mention a Swatch Watch complete with Swatch Guard! Yep... that is pretty much how it went down every.stinkin.year. (Although, I will say that Angie was my friend and I was happy for her.)

So fast forward to now. My kids have fund-raisers and not only do I NOT live in a rich neighborhood amongst people whom have money to spend, but many of my neighbors have kids, which means they also have fund-raisers. I only had 6 siblings to compete with on my block! It doesn't help that my church directory is also filled with about 90% of my neighbors. Relatives are spread far, which means the *best* way (according to the hyper-active, hyper-drive sales guru) to make sales is "have mom or dad take it to work and ask their co-workers!" Yeah, my office has a total of 5 people. We've all had hours/pay cut... so asking them to shell out $$ for wrapping paper, well... there never really seems like the right time to do just that.

That means, what ends up happening, is I feel so guilty, I buy 1 item from each of my kids, cuz y'know I need more frozen cookie dough like I need another hole in the head! And I am sure when they return to school with their pitiful order sheet, they have to sit through the congratulatory praises of their own Angie Troyers.

My simple solution? The Opt-Out. I think at the beginning of each school year parents should be able to sign a form -- a waiver -- "opting out" of fund-raisers for the ENTIRE.YEAR. Heck, I'd even pay $10-$20 to opt out of even RECEIVING fund-raiser crap sent home with my child. In fact, I am wondering if every parent was given that choice at the beginning of the year, how many would actually jump on that chance?

Don't get me wrong... I am supportive of my kids. I just don't like the stress of begging my friends for money on behalf of my children. I am NOT a born salesman and I really do not enjoy it.

I will say one of the best fundraisers I ever saw was in my high school. The music department had the MPA (Music Parents Association). Sort of like a PTA just for the music dept. One year, for the fund-raiser, they had the BOARD members doing the fund-raising, which was selling take & bake pizzas. It was a great idea and worked well. The adults made the calls and sent out the order forms to the other parents.

I am all for better programs and education. I just hate the AMOUNT or INTENSITY of the fund-raisers the schools participate in. I much prefer "The Opt-Out!" haha!

What about you? Does your child's school have a ton of fund-raisers? If you had the choice of an Opt-Out how much would you be willing to pay?

I Was A Cry Baby

Normally, I don't let things get to me - with regards to what other people say or do. When I am stressed, depressed or anxious about something, it is usually over something *I* have to get done, or something that I can't get done. Deadlines, school, pressure, work, money, kids... those are the things I usually fret over. If someone looks at me the wrong way, or says stuff behind my back, I usually am like, "whatever". And then, I sort of "weed" that person out of my life. If they want to be like that, then I just don't need to be around them, right? Right.

However, when I am uber-stressed, uber-tired, and feeling overwhelmed I get emotional fairly easy. But again, this usually occurs over matters such as deadlines, school, pressure, work, money, kids, etc. I guess because I am sarcastic much of the time, only those who know me well, see this emotional side to me.

Fact: Sarcastic People Have Feelings Too.

That being said, last week, someone said something to me, in front of a group of people, which I found very hurtful and I cried; like a big fat baby. I mean, seriously -- this was no little tear. I cried and couldn't stop. And then I cried at least three more times. My appetite was ruined. I even left the event early, and called Big-D and cried again while re-telling it.

Let me just say that I HATE that I cried. This usually isn't me.

Case in point. About a year and a half ago, some people, who were supposed to be my friends, were caught up in some gossipping -- about ME! I was oblivious to the entire ordeal. Well, guilt had got the best of two of them, and they came forward and confessed to me what they had done. I didn't cry. Honestly, I hardly felt hurt at all. I thanked them for having the courage to come forward. The one even asked me a few days later if I was ok. I said, "yep". She replied, "but you don't seem upset or angry. I mean you haven't cried or anything." I said, "Nope. For some reason, I am not upset or angry. I think that it is easy to get caught up in something like that, and I respect you more for having the courage to tell me." And honestly, with all truthfulness, I can say that this instance didn't bother me at all. I am still friends with the women as well.

NORMALLY, I am like - if they wanna talk about me, whatever. If they don't like me, who cares? If they don't want to be my friend, so be it. If they think my parenting skills are a little out there, I already know. If they think I'm a little too sarcastic and slightly "dirty-minded", oh well. I just really don't let it bother me.

So, back to this incident. Why did I cry??? Why did it bother me SOOOO much? True, I was tired. True, it was during the week of finals and I was already stressed. True, it was a personal attack. True, it was about something I had worked hard on and felt like was a success. True, it was in front of other people, and True, it caught me off guard. Others whom overheard agreed that it wasn't very nice.

But what bothered me more than her being mean was the fact that it bothered me at all. I really HATE that I cried over it, that I allowed myself to give away my "power" or "control", so to speak.

Now that I have had some time to think a little about it, I guess the "trigger for tears" was that it was something mean said to my face, and it has been a while since that has happened. I mean, I get that not everyone will like me or things that I do or say. But if you wanna say mean things, I'd rather you do it behind my back, hehehe. What's that saying? Ignorance is bliss?

What about you? Do you get offended easily? or do you let things roll off your shoulders pretty easily?

Why I Don't Ground My Kids...

... simply put - grounding is too much work. Seriously... when/if I ground my kids it is like punishing me too. I mean, if they are on restriction *I* have to be the one to remember who's not allowed to do what for how long and with everything else going on... it's too much work. I am more of the, "Go to your room" or "I'm taking your [insert fav toy here] away until further notice" or the "knock it off" type of mom. I like these because they are practically self-managed.

I mean, I'm sort of a forgetful person, and the few times I told one of my kids they were grounded, I totally forgot about it the next day when the one went to use the phone, or play the xbox, etc. However, if I forget that I left them in their rooms, sitting on their beds to "think about what they've done"... well, then, usually they will remind me... ("Can I come out now???") or if I take away things like the controllers for their games, then I do not have to worry about who is restricted from what. Don't get me wrong, I do believe in restricting or taking away privileges if the "punishment fits the crime", but I try to make it so that it is immediate - not the "you're grounded for 2 weeks" thing. It works for me and it is self-managed; and I guess it helps that I have fairly good kids. The last thing I need is another chore...

Speaking of chores... here's a few others I hate.

Checks. If you need to pay me money, please do not give me a check. When you pay by check, you are now giving me a chore. Bleh... I hate going to the bank. Yes, I know there is a drive-thru and a midnight drop and even ATMs that accept deposits. But I don't know when I am gonna be able to make it over there. So, unless I get one of those electronic check scanner/deposit things in my house, Pu-Lease don't pay by check! lol!

Friendship Bread. Don't get me wrong. The stuff tastes good. But again - another chore. See, now I gotta knead the stupid bag x amount of times for x number of days. And sure, I'd keep up for a day or two... but next thing I know, I'd have a bag busting at the seams with a big dough bubble on my counter. (Yes, I speak from experience.) So, if you're really my friend... bake the bread BEFORE bringing it over! lol!

Questionable Gifts. "This sweater looks like something she **might** like... if not, she can just return it." WRONG! If in doubt, go without... or give a gift card. That's what I always say. Anyone who knows me knows how much I *despise* standing in line to return something. Bleh! I'd rather keep it and regift it. For Real. I have a pair of shoes, that I NEED to return. However, I lost the receipt (i think it got thrown out) and the lid to the shoe box has mysteriously went missing. And now it's been 3 weeks. Don't know if I can still return them... See, they didn't have 8 1/2s... and well, the 9's are just too big. Plus, they didn't end up matching the brown I needed them to match anyway. **sigh** anyone want a pair of brown heeled Mary-Janes?

Plants. Ah yes... Every Mother's Day I get a plant... something I have to TRANSplant. I do not have a green thumb; not even a white one... no. I have BLACK THUMBS! The gardeners thumb of Death! I kill everything. If they based our parenting skills on our plants, I would be forbidden any children. I did good for a while on the tomato plant (and it was ONE PLANT)... nonetheless, it eventually shriveled. The lettuce plant (the project from school) was so dry and brittle... yuck! I've even accidentally killed my fav Calla Lilies once. So please... Go Green with someone else.

Whenever I receive one of these "chores", this line from the movie Juno ALWAYS pops into my head... "Thanks a heap, Coyote Ugly. This cactus-gram stinks worse than your abandonment."

What about you? What "chores" do YOU hate? Do you ground YOUR kids?

Trail of Fears

Snakes and snails and puppy dog tails, that's what little me's afraid of. Seriously. I HATE SNAKES!!!

Let's back up to the beginning... Big-D is like totally into trail running. If you don't know what this is, don't feel bad. Neither did I until recently. Anyway, it's running on hiking trails, y'know like in the mountains, hills, over-the-river-and-thru-the-woods type of thing. You should see him in his running shorts... er, um, sorry...back to the story. So Big-D runs a few times a week, and sometimes I go with him. HOLD ON - I must clarify that I am NOT a trail runner-- I can barely run up a flight of stairs without having a coronary, and I only go when he does his "short" runs. We start off at the same point, and he will run about 8 miles while I "hike" about 4. When I get to my half-way point I head down the mountain, so we end up in the same place around the same time.

So, last night we got a late start due to some earlier distractions. The sun was already setting, the wind was picking up, and there were threats of scattered thunderstorms as we started off. He's worried I might get struck by lightning plus it is getting dark, and I didn't bring my son's headlamp. Since I have a headache anyway, I tell him I will only go about a mile or so instead of my usual 4 , then come back down. It pacifies him. So, the warrior takes off to punish the trail, and I put in my earphones to engage in my nightly affair with John Mayer . I get to the first cliff, and turn to come back down. I take my time, knowing I have plenty of it, and am just sort of strolling along, singing with my boy John, and all of a sudden I see it front of me. A slithering, slimy, verrrrry long snake! Eww! Gross! Sort of an S shape. He was at least 4' long, probably longer when stretched out.

I scream loud enough to shake the entire valley below. Mr. Snake stops, turns, and looks at me!!! CRAP!!!! I freeze! I can't breathe. I rip my earphones out of my ears to see if I can hear rattling. But the wind is blowing loudly through the weeds and trees around me and it is too dark to see the Make & Model of this serpent. I begin to tremble. I have this fear of snakes that I cannot explain. I am paralyzed for a brief moment, but realize I can't just stand there either. Being that there is only one way back to the car (without hiking up and around on another 6 mile trail that I am not familiar with), I turn around and head back up the trail.

I find a place where my cell phone has reception. I execute an S.O.S. text to Big-D. It does not send. "WARNING! LOW BATTERY -- RECHARGE NOW! POWERING DOWN" What??? No Freakin' Way!!! I turn the phone on and off a few times and retry sending the text. Finally, "SENDING COMPLETE". Whew. At least this way maybe Big-D will be sure to come back down the way he started, instead of looping around the other way. Plus, if I get bitten and die, he will know why.

I check my watch. about 30 or 40 minutes till I expect to see Big-D again. I stay in an area of the trail that is wide and pretty well-lit, due to the lights of Salt Lake City below reflecting off the plethora of clouds above. I pace back and forth about 500 feet. I try to talk myself into heading back towards the car, telling myself Mr. Snake is no longer there. I turn and begin to walk back down, but just before the dark, narrow bend, I stop short. Nope. Can't do it. Not alone at least. I repeat this pattern several times, checking my watch at about 5 minute intervals. After about 30 minutes have past, I look up at the crest hoping, praying that I will see Big-D's headlamp any second. C'mon...show me the light! Whew, and there it is. Thank you, Lord, I utter with relief. I knew from the time I saw his spec of light it would be another 10 minutes before he reached me.

Apparently, he received my text and tried to call me. When I didn't answer due to the dead phone, he worried that something had happened (got bit, passed out, etc.). Isn't that sweet? I am glad when he finally arrives. I grip his arm as he practically has to drag me past the point of the serpent-sighting. Alas we make it to the safety of his Tahoe, and back to the safety of home. Yay!

Big-D tells me afterwards that there are these certain type of spiders that also come out on the trail at night and their eyes glow and reflect off the light from the headlamp. He decided that chances are I would step on them on crush them without knowing anyway, so no point in scaring me by telling me about them beforehand. Ewww! I need a shower. I just gave myself the willies again!

I was gonna post a pic of a snake and/or spiders for effect, but just googling it grossed me out enough. I trust you can all use your imaginations on this one. Needless to say, if I EVER hit the trail at night again, my phone will be 100% charged, I will have a headlamp, and possibly even a walking stick with a very sharp point at the end!

Words I LOVE to Hate!!!

IRREGARDLESS - In case you didn't know - this is a MADE-UP word. Yes - after years of plebs using this word incorrectly, it has finally made it's way into the dictionary as an acceptable form of "Regardless". (An outrage!!!) This word is a Double-Negative, not to mention Completely Pointless Word. Think about it...If to be "without any regard" is Regardless, than what is "Ir-regardless"? To be with "regard"? Isn't that just "Regard"??? What the H-e-double-hockey-sticks is that?

PISSED - as long as I can remember, I have HATED this word. I won't lie and say that I have NEVER used it. But I can probably count on one hand the number of times I have done so. Someone did recently point out to me, however, that it is better to be "pissed off" than "pissed on". Nice.

COLON - The one thing I HATE about this word is it's homonymous usage. We all know that the Colon is part of the anatomy that serves as the "storage unit" for solid waste. (ooops, sorry! Hope you weren't in the middle of dinner.) But a colon is also a punctuation mark consisting of two equally sized dots centered on the same vertical line. So, here's a question for all of you Doctors & Nurses out there... If a patient has a Colectomy, is he then left with a Semi-Colon? (I am sorry! I know - I am horrible. But, I couldn't resist!)

MASTICATE - I HATE this word. The only reason anyone has for using this word is cuz they purposely want others to "mis-hear" them and think another word was used in its place. They think they are funny and clever. Just say "chew" - it'll be better for all of us.

SEAMEN - Not that I hate Seamen - the men who work out at sea. However, as a teenager a Men's Choir sang in church one Sunday, singing #335 from our Hymnal, "Brightly Beams Our Father's Mercy". The second verse says, "Let the lower lights be burning;Send a gleam across the wave.Some poor fainting, struggling seaman You may rescue, you may save." I just couldn't figure out why they were singing about some guy's struggling semen. (She didn't!) [Sorry, I did! - Hey! How was I supposed to know???]

SECRETION - Though I HATE this word, I love the first part of this word..."secret" and definitely feel that any/all secretions oozing and eeping from anyone's nooks and crannies should definitely be a well-kept secret, only to be shared with a physician! Honestly, I just don't have a need to know!

COCCYX - I prefer the word "tailbone", thank you very much. I had broken mine during the labor & delivery of my first child 14 years ago and was subject to the use of this word several times; possibly enough to last me a lifetime. By the way - The term coccyx comes originally from the Greek Language and means "cuckoo", referring to the shape of a cuckoo's beak. How they came up with that, I'll never know...

As far as other Words I LOVE to HATE - well, I am not a big fan of swear words. Unfortunately in our society/media today we have become desensitized to the use of swear words. However, the one I will NEVER get used to is *the* swear word - you know the one to which I am referring. I even hate substitutes for it - effin', frickin' or friggin'. My kids know if they use any form of those they are in for it, Big Time.

My kids, do however call me on my use of the word "Freakin". This word does NOT bother me, I tell them, because of the meaning of base word, "freak": noun 1. any abnormal phenomenon or product or unusual object; anomaly; aberration. 2. a sudden and apparently causeless change or turn of events, the mind, etc.; an apparently capricious notion, occurrence, etc.: That kind of sudden storm is a freak. 3. Archaic. capriciousness; whimsicality. So, see it works...Something can be Freakin' Funny or Freakin' Dumb, etc.

What are some words you Love to Hate??? C'mon - share! It would be Freakin' Awesome!

10 Things I Hate About You

1) When you cut me off in traffic, and then act like you did nothing wrong.

2) When you let your kids run wild in the store while they are pushing those stupid mini-shopping carts, bumping into me and running over my toe. And then you look at me sheepishly as if to say, "they're just kids...aren't they just the cutest things?"

3) When you look directly at me and say, "Hi! How are you???" Inducing a response from me- "Fine". And then you act all disgusted and point to your Bluetooth Earpiece like, "hello! I'm on the phone, duh!"

4) When you leave a public restroom without washing your hands.

5) When you talk incessantly to your date during the entire movie - and it's opening night of like the best movie of the year!

6) When you come to my door, and I tell you "no thanks" and you continue to ask me when a better time to come back might be. How about NEVER!!!

7) When you talk to the check-out girl in the lane next to yours the entire time you are ringing up my order. Hello! I am the customer! Me!!!

8) When you attempt to wear that trashy Denim Mini skirt (hiked up to high-heaven) and the see-thru halter top that you are clearly much too Over-the-Hill and much too Over-Weight for. No one needs to see that! C'mon!

9) When you stand right outside of the entrance puffing on a cigarette NEXT to the sign that reads, "No Smoking within 15 feet of this sign"!

10) When you "let one" slip in public, leaving no warning for those unsuspecting victims, like me, who innocently walk into your "fart-cloud" practically choking - leaving me to pay twice, as now all those behind ME, think I was the culprit of the aforementioned vapor!!!