Monday, April 27, 2009

You did not just say what I think you said

Happy Monday!

Have I regressed to prudishness or, if after hearing what I heard this morning, would you would feel even a twinge of the same stupefaction that I am experiencing?

Upon exiting the K-8 school that is educating my 6 year old, my right ear is graced with this incredible question: "What the F**K are you wearing?"

Not absolutely sure that I was hearing a student rather than a song or recording or something, I look over to see three boys, 10 years old max. I'm not even kidding, that lovely question was directed from one of them to another.

A fourth grader dropping an F-Bomb in the school yard! Lovely.

This is not so much astonishing as the fact the I was apparently the only person who was even phased by it. The recess ladies, (I don't know if it's still ok to call them that. Please correct me if that phrase was deemed politically incorrect.) (or don't.) who were standing in ear shot and didn't so much as bat an eye, went about their coffee sipping and smiling at the parents depositing their children. There was no bugging eyes or covering of mouths by other kids that the boy had used the expletive of all expletives... nothing.

I'm pretty sure I send my child to school for an education. Meaning to learn. Things she needs to know, behaviors she should exhibit, in order to be a respectful and self sufficent person. Do we honestly live in a society that has deteriorated so far that it is now deemed pseudo acceptable for a 10 year old child to talk to his peers this way? I mean, really, adults shouldn't even talk like that. (you know this.)

I know that I heard and said some things in school that would have mortified my mother. But some words we just not uttered, and had they been parents certainly would have been called and soap likely would have been administered.

I'm not trying to get preachy, but what the hell happened to the world of just a little decency? Mutual respect for other people. Letting kids be kids. Telling a child, I don't care whose child, that they are out of line or they shouldn't behave a certain way, because well... they are out of line and shouldn't behave that way! If some kid is bullying my child, or swearing in front of her, I let them know that they should not act/speak that way. I've had parents chew me out for correcting their little spawn, even when they knew the brat was out of line.

Way to go buddy, lets reinforce bad behavior by acting like a jack ass to another parent. Couldn't you just correct your child and let them know that cursing at a 4 year old is just not OK, PERIOD!

I seriously wanted to correct the kid at school this morning. I'll admit it, kids older than 7, that I don't know, scare me. Kids are violent. They have guns, no respect for anyone or anything, are seemingly invincible, and they know it.

The lack of common sense in our State Offices deems that; we can not discipline them, correct them, hurt their feelings or tell them that they are not entitled to anything except food and shelter. These things are called abuse and cruelty. Instead we are supposed to set them up for disappointment, pay for their therapy, and let them move back in to our homes when they get fired for asking their bosses "What the F**k are you wearing?"


Thursday, April 23, 2009

I started over here and ended up waaayyyyy over there

What a lonley day. It was one of those mornings that would have been better spent under the down, curled up with a book.
The sunshine is leaving... I'm watching it make it's exit at this very moment.
Goodbye friend. Come back soon... like before lunch!

I'm thinking of about a billion other places I would rather be, than sitting at this desk. This is nothing new, mind you, but I feel that I have successfully accomplished every single personal task that can be completed from behind a computer. I officially need a week off just to tend to personal matters.

My To Do List:

- Contact a Minister and meet them in person
- Take new crap car in for a tune up
- Pray that a tune up is all new crap car needs
- Pick shoes and accessories for self and 4 bridesmaids
- Meet with florist
- Get house to a living state of clean before Crazy Horse Lady comes back home and fills it with smoke and grease, again!
- Find back-up house incase offer falls through
- Ride Horsey before he actually does forget what a saddle feels like
- Refrain from beating children (repeat as necessary)

It seems the clock drags to 4:30p.m. then fast forwards to 5:30a.m. and there is not a moment in between to get anything accomplished besides dinner and laundry. I'm finding it increasingly difficult to be cheerful when I get home, and I'm losing my patience with the Cowboy oldest and youngest children.

Is this what I was waiting for all my life? Let me warn the kids. Heed this advise: Your parents are right. Enjoy being a kid. Stop trying to grow up so fast. There is pleanty of time to be a grown up... just enjoy growing!

Now... get the heck out of my house. Use your imagination, thats fun part of your brain that rarely gets any exercise. Go get dirty!

(I know they aren't listening.)


Friday, April 17, 2009


Back in January my mother took my sister and I to the Bridal Show. An overwhelming event held at the Convention Center where all of the big shops in the Metro area rent booths and try to convince brides-to-be that if they don't book every aspect of their wedding five years in advance, their wedding will be disastrous. It's a cross between wandering through a mall full of kiosk vendors who want to put smear you with crappy lotion and shopping for a used car. But we endured, and I managed to get all the information I could possibly want or need without committing to anything that day.

The most important parts of the wedding, to me, were my dress, location, and the photographer. I confess, since confirming these three essentials I've kind of slacked off on everything else. It got really frustrating at first. It seemed like every vendor I called was already booked, or had booked up in the time it took me to call them back. Apparently, Christmas was not early enough to get engaged in order to plan an August wedding. (Seriously, one vendor all but said that.) Fortunately, things are coming together. We got a great outdoor venue that includes catering, and booze! (SCORE!) Our photographer has an incredible portfolio! The flowers are handled. The cake is ordered. All I really need is a minister, and I still have 4 months to go so... Whoever said it takes a year (or a decade) to plan a wedding is just trying to get your money before anyone else does.

Which brings me to, The Dress!

Almost immediately after The Cowboy proposed, I started looking at dresses. I didn't really have anything in mind at first, but I knew that something super extravagant was just not my style. I got a couple of ideas, and while meandering though the Bridal show, I saw a dress that stopped me in my tracks. I walked up to the lady at the booth and said "I have to try that dress on." She smiled, opened her little appointment book and penciled me in for the next weekend.

Fast forward seven days...

We booked two dress fittings that day. The first in Clackamas at 9am the other in Longview at 1pm.

Coffee ingested and a little weary, we entered the first shop. It took an hour just to look though all of the dresses. Each cut has a section, and each section had between 10 and 25 dresses. Once I had picked one or two from each section we proceeded to the dressing room. The process of elimination had begun. Many were easy to nix before I even looked in the mirror. I never felt like such a princess (I kinda liked it.) (shhhh.) Trying on wedding dresses is a lot like playing dress up! (maybe that's what it's all about.) I narrowed it down to two and had to put them both on twice before I picked the one I really liked.

I knew it was nothing like the dress that I had seen at the bridal show, but I really felt like Cinderella in it. I almost cried when I had it on, then I felt silly for being all girly, only to be reminded by several strangers that brides are supposed to get all excited and emotional when they find the dress. We took down all of the information about the dress and told our attendant that I needed a day to think about it. She tried everything she could to get me to order that dress that day, but I told her if it really was the one that I wouldn't need to rush... I still had 8 months!

We stopped in Vancouver to pick up my Grandmother, on the way to Longview. All the way up there all I could think about was how I felt in that dress, and how incredibly exhausted I was.

We got to the cute little hole in the wall shop. There was a tiny (in comparison) section to the right, a platform with 3 mirrors to the left, and a larger room full of hideous prom dresses to the left of that. The dressing rooms in the back. The owner checked us in, I told her I wanted to try on the dress from the bridal show, she said she knew the one and told me to go ahead and look through what she had hanging just to see if there was anything else I liked. I picked 3 other dresses, and almost immediately discarded them in comparison to the dress from the Clackamas store. She saved the one from the bridal show for last. She said she just had a feeling about it.

It's not extravagant. It's rather simple actually. It doesn't have a bustle, it doesn't require a slip, the train is an accessory that I later decided to add.

The minute I put it on I knew it was The One, as assuredly as I know The Cowboy is the one. I wasn't emotional. I didn't feel like a silly girly princess. I felt like a confident, beautiful woman. I went out to the platform and imagined the look on his face when he sees me for the first time on our wedding day. It was (is.) perfect! I found a simple veil on the rack that didn't cover my face, but is a hair piece, with these clear sequined "daisyesque" flowers all around the trim, which completely matches the detail on the dress. The shop owner was a little surprised when I showed her. She said she couldn't have picked a better one for that dress.

I made my decision. My mother was hesitant. She said I didn't look as excited about it as the one at the other shop. I told her I was tired, but I knew this was my dress. The shop owner told us it could take 12 weeks to get the dress in so we needed to order it as soon as possible. I didn't want to drive back up to try it on again so I decided then and there to just go with it. As she made her calls to place the order and started all of the paper work, my mother just looked at me with questioning eyes. She was trying to read me, to see if I was settling. Upon passing her silent quiz, she paid for the dress.

I slept so hard that night. I dreamt that the dress came in and I hated it. That I wished I had picked the other dress, and that I felt awkward on my wedding day and everything was just awful. I woke up a little panicked, but reassured myself that I picked the right dress and would have had the same thoughts about the other dress had we decided to go with that one.

The dress came in two weeks ago. (12 weeks my ass.) I took Monkey with me to try it on again, and you know what? I LOVE IT more than I did the first time I tried it on! When Monkey saw it she said, "Oh Mommy, it's perfect."

It Is Perfect!

(and since this blog is my secret... I can post a picture for you to see!)
(no that's not me.)



Everyone knows that all men look at porn. That's a given. It's expected.
That being said, it still bums me out when I actually bust The Cowboy looking at porn on the computer. It's a little "awe com'on" when I find it in his phone, but to come home from picking up my wedding dress, walk up the back steps and look through the back door (which is a big window) to see naked chicks on the computer monitor... it's a little depressing.

All in all I think I handled it well. I shook the handle (to get his attention.) set my purse down on the porch, told monkey to go find the puppies, so she wouldn't catch a glimpse, and methodically started digging for my keys. He had to close several screens before he could come open the door. He was pale... that part was funny. He thought my mom was with me. Fortunately she had decided not to come in. I didn't say anything, but I didnt act like I wasnt saying anything because I was upset either. I just went through the kitchen and set down my things then went to folding the laundry.

I know The Cowboy likes beautiful naked women. I've happened upon his "picture" files on more than one occasion. And, I've met more than one of his ex-girlfriends. I know it's silly to let it bug me and I try really hard not to, because I know that ALL guys do it. There is just something about not being ogled by the man who wants to marry me, knowing that he ogles lots of far more beautiful, photo shopped women, that just ...

dammit! it hurts my feelings and makes me feel inadequate.
OK I said it.

I know it's stupid and lame and well... stupid and lame, but I cant help it. God didn't bless me with beautiful full breasts and it's something I've always been very self conscious of. I've suggested a remedy to this problem, but he seems to think that should I get this "correction" it will automatically mean I will cheat on him... because apparently that's what women do when they get that done. I have a different opinion; these are for ME!

Him being fully aware of this insecurity of mine does not stop him from hunting down better things to look at, on the internet. I don't even know how to broach this subject with him. I know that, really, I just need to get over it. I know he does it... just something about catching him, not just finding the pictures, but actually catching him surfing thorough them...

~cheers (it's Friday)

Thursday, April 16, 2009

I Am Jack's Incurable Boredom

Have you ever read a post on another blog and wondered if you had your own version of Tyler Durden and have just happened upon them? Have I started another post with another version of this very question? aw jeeze, I think I have. But I'm not going back to check.

I really just want to kill the last half hour of my work day, and it occurred to me that I don't blog anymore. Mostly, because I read what I write and am dumbfounded that anyone would read this crap so I just delete post instead of posting post.

The economy has finally struck my place of employment. Not in the sense that I'm out of a job, rather I get to come to the office every day and sit at my desk and surf the Internet and hope that the phone rings or a fax/email comes. My office has never been so organized, and frankly I'm afraid of what will happen if (when.) things pick up again. I have taken on everything because, well, there is just nothing to do. I am so very grateful that I am still employed full time, I just dont handle boredom well... I get a little stir crazy.

There has actually been a lot going on, outside of work. The House Hunt. The Wedding Plans. An Unexpected Car Quest. oh the things I have to share...

Perhaps, just maybe, I will conjure up some stories to share in the next few days. Perhaps this will keep me from reloading the Cars For Sale page on Craigslist every two minutes.

Ok, probably not. But anything is possible. Right?


If that isn't irony...

Hey look who works for the Oregon Department of Revenue...

When exactly did He become a tax collector?

Happy Thursday!




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