Dog Fights

A serious bone of contention in this house is the new doggie we got from the pound. 50 pound Catahoula hound dog that’s now 6 months old. Sweet, smart, and needs way more exercise than BF is willing and I am able to give him at this point in my bad back saga…after the move even prematurely decrepid old me will be able to walk both dogs on nice flat back roads, but for now…sigh.

He’s bored, the Rexinator, as I call him. He will follow you around with his nose stuffed up the crack of your ass until you freak out on him or sit down, then he lays all over you on the couch…it’s our fault, but still irritating. So yesterday I got sick of the violation of my crack, turned around whilst hollering, “GET OUTTA MY ASS!!!” Before I could make contact, Rex started yelping like I had kicked the shit out of him, so he got a Dog Whisperer thump. But he’s still yelping like my damned Chihuahua when she gets scared. So of course, BF comes flying out of the bathroom yelling “WTF!!!!”

Before I could say what happened, he started yelling about how I had been “beating” the dog off the couch all day yesterday (“Beating?” Really?? Saying “No, dodo” is beating? I’m screwed. Take me to jail). So I called him on that particular word. Then I get to hear how I get hung up on a particular word and blah blah blah…WELL OF COURSE I DO, JACKASS!!! YOU JUST SAID I WAS BEATING THE DOG!!!!! He does that a lot too, uses a nasty word that doesn’t have anything to do with the situation and then tries to get it to slip by. What is that tactic??? “Beating” is a pretty big word when used in that context, and I am sure he knows it.

Ok, the dog isn’t allowed to have toys on the couch, nor, I thought, is he allowed to chew said toys AND the front of the couch at the same time. In fact, I thought we had agreed that any variation of “Rex” and “Chewing” and “Couch” was a no-no. Where I came up with that silliness, I have no clue…but anyway. He’s bored so I had to keep “reminding” the pup all damned day, hence the “dodo” and a few other words. I also didn’t want to have to share my couch with a dog, cuz he sucks at sharing, so I said “Get down” about 650 times too.

But back to getting yelled at (who is he to think he can yell at me anyway?!?!?!), he’s still on the couch thing, and I am trying to defend myself, especially since the dog wasn’t on the couch. BF gets irritated when his crack gets violated too, by the way…but this was clearly going to be a one way conversation. Lucky for me, he decided to go back to his shaving and showering, then went back to the bedroom to play XBox (where he had been the 4 previous days, all day) because he can be pretty long-winded.

I thought he was to be at work at 9am that day, so when 9:45 rolls by, I figured he wasn’t going again because of the rain and went in to take a shower. If he wont work when it’s raining, well, whether I am physically able or not, I need to get a job again. But he came in and said he was going to work. I told him to make sure and take Rex, but he was already outta there.

Because this isn’t the first time he’s jumped my shit about Rex, I have decided to just not have anything to do with the dog. He can feed him every time, walk him every time, AND take him to work with him. After all, I may “beat” him again. The poor hound is probably going to dehydrate because the filling of the water bowl is kind of like the changing of the TP. I am the only one able to do it, for some reason. What sucks is that I love the dog, but if my having anything to do with him is going to do nothing but cause me strife it’s not worth it.

But guess what? I am in fresh trouble this morning!! BF said he was going to leave Rex home. I said, “Ok.” Then he said, “Unless you want me to bring him with me.” So I said that he probably should, and he got mad again, which also happens a lot and makes no sense to me. Don’t give me an out after I already said okey dokey if you don’t want me to take the out.

Whatever, I can barely walk today anyway, I have no business taking his dog out for a walk 60 times while he’s at work…

I can’t win, so fuck it. I finally figured out where I am.

Where Am I??

I’ve been gone for quite a while, I know. Me, the wonder of words has been fresh out of them for months. So many things have happened, but nothing has sparked any creativity. I am even struggling now, but I have to attempt to break the seal.

I went to see family in South Texas a while back. Something witty should have come out of that, especially since it was a great visit, but nope. We’re moving to a bigger and better house in a week or so, a place that’s great for the grownups, the teenager and the critters. A place that, if we can get shit together, we will be able to buy in a few years. Nothing. The teen is playing JV soccer and kicking ass, and she hasn’t played since she was 11. Even extreme pride isn’t breaking this drought.

I have taken on the task of cooking in this house. BF used to always do it, simply because he’s good at it, but I decided to take more responsibility as a homemaker. Even the top coming off the cayenne pepper when I was trying to sprinkle SOME into the chicken sauce I was making that resulted in some seriously hot ass chicken, even THAT didn’t unstick the fount of wit. And THAT, my friends, was a pretty dang funny incident!!!

So what made me dig deep, remember my password, sign in and attempt to put my…erm…”life” into words?? Fact is, I am going through (as I am sure every homemaker does) a seriously depressing bout of resentment toward this family…the kiddo doesn’t feed her cat, nor can I get her to put her laundry in a basket and bring it downstairs most of the time so my crippled ass doesn’t have to drag myself up the stairs. BF can certainly take the Tabasco OUT of the fridge, but  not once EVER in the past year has he managed to put it BACK. Why the Tabasco, I have no clue, but it’s finally pissing me the HELL off, and I may simply throw it in the garbage next time. Then I wouldn’t have to deal with it, but I am not supposed to do things like that because it is “mean” and “bitchy” and “vindictive.”

The TP, forget it!!! There is NO way that can possibly be changed by anyone but me for some reason. And the laundry, if I happen to not fold it right away, THAT will be the one day that month that BF decides he’s going to pick up some dirty clothes and put them in THAT particular basket. I guess the fact that the clothes in that basket are on the couch or bed (and not in designated the dirty clothes spot on the floor) and smell really good is neither here nor there…I shoulda fucking folded them and put them away, I guess. My bad.

This isn’t to say that BF doesn’t occasionally tell me to relax and take the day off on a random Saturday or Sunday…that’s really sweet, isn’t it?? Well, don’t make the mistake that I did the first few times. I actually thought he and the teen were going to take over and clean up for the day, but silly me!! I just had to do twice as much the next day. Sometimes I think, “Is this what God walked into on Monday morning after his day of rest?”

So I am on a mini strike. BF has this thing…he hangs dirty clothes, because that is better than them being in a dirty pile on the floor where people can know that they are dirty and wash them. I am the opposite. If it’s dirty, it goes in a  pile on the floor, or more ideally a laundry basket, then out to the wash. If it’s hanging, it must be clean, right? Well, I saw his dirty boxers hanging on the towel rack yesterday and decided that must be where they go.  His shave gel was, once again, left out on the counter. I guess since he can never manage to put it back, the cabinet door must be too heavy for him to pull open in the mornings, and it’s kind of mean for me to put him through the stress of opening the cabinet door in the first place, so the shave gel is still there. The teen has cups of rancid liquid/solid stuff in her room, I suppose that’s her right as an American to perform scientific experiments using my glassware and various drinks. Who am I to take  away her rights? Every time BF walks into the kitchen, he turns the light on, but can’t turn it off. The fact that it shines in my right eyes doesn’t matter, he must be afraid of the dark, and that is more important. I should be more understanding.

Screw the fact that a rental company is showing this house and it should be clean and organized at all times. Don’t worry about the fact that a messy house reflects on ME and not THEM, even though THEY are the problem, there are 2 of them and 1 of me and this is supposed to be a Democracy, so the cup of yesterday’s coffee on that shelf and the half cup of congealing milk on this shelf stay!!! Forget about doing the dishes every day, they can stay until we run out of clean stuff and HAVE to do them to eat. Laundry? Sure, I’ll do it, but it’d better be in a basket at the bottom of the stairs or someone is wearing dirty clothes!!

Boy Howdy, this is going to suck!!

My Mother Wants to Follow my Blog….

….when I start one, she says. Great! I already have to censor myself on Facebook and now she wants my blog too!?!?!?! And why as a grown-ass 37 year old woman do I care?

I guess it’s about respect. I know she knows I am a bit of a mess, but she doesn’t know how BIG of a mess I really am. Maybe that’s why I feel like I am writing into space…so many of my family and friends want me to start a blog, but I have not admitted that I already have one to anyone that I know. I keep saying that I will someday…let me think about it…not now, I have a headache…

So I am thinking of a possible solution. Maybe I can have two blogs. This one can be raw, blunt and gritty if I feel like it, and the other one can be my censored humerous ramblings…like the laundry soap one. I let a few people read it, and they liked it…

But for now, I am sticking with this one. My anti-depressants seem to be broken, I had to buy a huge can of cheap coffee that I am stuck drinking till the end of the month, and I am PMS-ie and grumpy enough to make me wonder if they actually DID take my uterus out, so sorry Ma, I love you, but no witticisms for you for a while…

Gallons of Lumpy Liquid Laundry Detergent

 “Gallons of Lumpy Liquid Laundry Detergent.”  Wow, that certainly sounds like a gypsy good time, eh? One thing I have learned from all this couponing/saving money goofiness is how to make my own laundry detergent, and lots of it. The recipe is originally from my beloved Duggar family’s recipe website (which seems to have disappeared). I’ll tell you what I did, and what I recommend that you do… 

  Here’s what you’ll need: 1 Five gallon bucket, 4 Cups of hot tap water, 1 Fels-Naptha soap bar or Ivory barsoap (I opted for the Fels-Naptha, seems like the Ivory would be too sudsy??), 1 Cup of Arm & Hammer Super Washing SODA (not powder), ½ Cup of  Borax.

  You are supposed to grate the bar of soap, but unless you have a food processor, you will quickly understand why I opted for a shortcut. I sliced it like cheese, and unless you have tons of time, don’t do that. Saving a little time here adds tons of time when you get to the cookin’ stage, which is next…

  Add the grated soap to a pot with the 4 cups of hot water. Heat it on low, stirring occasionally until the soap is melted. If you didn’t grate the soap, you’ll heat on medium and stir for about 3 days…

  NOW, in your bucket, put the Borax and the washing soda and fill it halfway with warm water. Then you stir the heck out of it until the powders dissolve. Hopefully by this time you have either prepared the soap concoction the right way, or the 3 days is up and it finally melted, and you add to the bucket and stir it.

  Fill the bucket the rest of the way with water (yes, stir it, do I have to tell you everything??), cover and wait for it to thicken. It says overnight, but maybe you should try stirring it every once in a while, I’m going to next time. What you are left with is 5 gallons of a very clean smelling snot-type substance, which is actually CONCENTRATED laundry soap, and very creepy to stir. Like stirring Jell-o, or more like Tapioca Jell-o, if there is such a thing. But even if you squish it through your fingers in an attempt to get the lumps out, it ain’t gonna happen, Cap’n…

  Now you can fill your favorite laundry detergent container (or milk jug, or apple juice container) halfway with the snot…er…detergent and the rest of the way with water. Shake the holy horsefeathers out of it (you’ll have to do that every time because it seperates) and add 5/8 cup (random, but I do what Michelle Duggar says…her kids always look clean) to your washer. OK, I actually use a little over a 1/2 cup of the lumpy concentrate, but whatever…

  Annnnnnd…VOILA!!! Or Viola, as the kiddo would say…the stuff works great!!! And I’m not allergic!! It doesn’t do anything about static cling though, but Mrs. Duggar provided me with a solution for that too. You can add some essential oils to your detergent if you want it to smell like something specific (like what, I don’t know…cinnamon? Pumpkin spice? Maybe lavendar is better), otherwise it just smells clean.

  Funny thing is, it works better than the fancy stuff, and although it was about $9 out of pocket the first time at the store, all I’ll have to get for the next year’s worth of detergent is a bar of Fels-Naptha. That’s 97 cents plus tax. And for that, Mrs Duggar, I thank you!!

Couponing-Gotta Have $ to Save $

  I’ve been watching that show on TLC called Extreme Coupons or whatever it’s called, and at first I was stoked to watch it, all excited about getting stuff for free and saving so much they will never run out of stuff. I was going to do that same thing. I was going to STOCKPILE!!! I was NEVER going to run out of food, soap, or laundry detergent ever again!!! No matter what happened, even if I had to live in my truck, I would be OK. This was gonna be freaking AWESOME!!!

  Step one: I decided to learn as much as possible. I joined a few sites with some really friendly people with great advice on saving money using coupons. I started putting the word out among friends that I wanted their unused coupon inserts. I obsessively tracked sales, tried to match coupons to those sales, and printed tons of internet coupons, and started learning the lingo…

  Step two: As I was learning this stuff, something hit me. In order to save money, you have to first spend some. And I don’t have any. It’s only the middle of the week and we have used all our spare change for gas to get the boyfriend to work and home…today. So I can’t go to CVS and buy stuff we need that will generate ECBs (basically Monopoly money to spend at the store that must be used within 30 days). I don’t even have enough pennies to get a quart of milk.

  Step three: I am realizing that this broke-ites we are suffering from isn’t terminal, although sometimes it feels like it. If we have to eat rice for the rest of the month, well, that’s alright. The kiddo is on a Youth Group mission for 2 months this summer, so she wont be affected by this latest mess, AND, at least I was able to score about 6 coupons for rice that I took to WalMart and bought the smallest bags of rice I could find (it wasn’t obvious to me at first, but 60 cents off something that is 99 cents is a way better deal for someone with no money than 60 cents off something that is 3 bucks), so the rice jar is full, and then some. So although we wont be dining finely any time soon, we wont be going hungry. I’ve got to remember that, no matter what.

  Step four: Dont get discouraged. When things become impossible, and they will, the most important thing is to keep going. This is also the most difficult step for me. I got an awesome stock of coupons, and was excited to go get lots of stuff we need for not very much money. Then…well, then something came up and I couldn’t go that week. So I planned for the next week, and something else came up, and I couldn’t afford to go then either. And it happened again the next week. There was always something that came up that trumped food shopping at all, let alone stockpile shopping. So I had tons of coupons finally, but by this time they were expiring. The worst part is that we got up hella early and went to the local food bank for the 3rd month in a row, but it had been cancelled (it’s once a month). And I am supposed to keep my head up. And dammit, I am going to!! OK, I am going to TRY.

  Now forget with the stupid steps. I have to try to look at the positive and to work towards the future. The expired coupons aren’t going to waste (as soon as I can afford the $4.95 postage, that is). I have worked it out with a woman in Texas that gathers coupons, expired and otherwise, and sends them overseas to our troops at military bases. Apparantly they can use them for up to 6 months after they expire. I am sending her those, and any extras I have. So that’s good, if I can’t use them, at least they are helping others.

  I also have a goal. I’ve had to go to the food bank lots, and I do realize that I mentioned that before, but there is a reason. It is frustrating to be waiting in line with the addicts and their beers and cigarettes, but there are several people like me in that line too…people that have hit seriously difficult times and need to feed their kids. And I vow, right here and right now, that I will be able to help people in need someday too, like I have been helped. THAT is why I am keeping going on this. I need to KEEP learning as much as possible now so when we finally ARE financially stable, we will be able to, with the help of coupons and sales, be able to donate to the food banks. To be able to help out, because we would be dead right now if we didn’t have that help.

  But for now, that task is to try to get through this month without a nervous breakdown…yeah right…I did, however, find a solution to the laundry detergent problem. I’ll never have to buy THAT again…story to follow… 😉

2 or 42???

This is getting ridiculous. I adore my boyfriend, but it’s like living with a 2 year old most of the time!!

Mothers, do you remember trying to watch TV with your 2 year old?? You can’t. They need something, or see something on the show that reminds them of something they HAVE to tell you right then, or they simply have no clue that you may be interested in something that has nothing to do with them. Now, that’s OK for a 2 year old, they are just learning how to function in the world, and as mothers, it is our job to raise them with love and patience, and to realize that the kid is more important than what’s going on on the magic box…

HOWEVER, when you add 40 years to that 2, it gets irritating. It took me 7 months (that’s how long we have lived in this house), but I am finally irritated.

Now if I walk out to the living room and talk while he’s killing zombies on the XBox, or while the game is on, I generally don’t get acknowledged. Guys are way better than girls at tuning out voices. So it is very rare that I will come out here with the long version of some fascinating-only-to-me tidbit and interrupt him while he is relaxing in front of the telly. No way, Jose, that’s what the blog is for! I, however, don’t get that same consideration.

I’ve had a headache for a week and a half, so I have been pretty quiet, and can’t handle the normal exuberance of my 2…I mean 42 year old. I know how he is though. I saw something on The Voice last night that I thought he’d like, and so I showed it to him. Then he proceeded to talk through the entire performance. Then he got upset when, as he was going back to his book, I rewound the performance. I didn’t really see much of it (although I tried) and I certainly didn’t hear any of it…at first he said he didn’t realize he did that…then came the excuses. He thought I had seen it already…he thought this, he thought that, he would have never talked through the entire performance if he had known I hadn’t seen it yet. Well, buddy, now you know I hadn’t seen it yet!! So I said, “Baby, you are doing it again,” and he got more upset. SIGH

  So now it is this morning. Still have the headache, but whatever…I got up and headed for the DVR. Oh, I have new Drinking Made Easys, cool! Chatty LaRue was still in bed, so I started watching the show. A few minutes went by and Chatty came out, noticed that it was the Atlanta show (he used to live there) and started telling me fascinating-only-to-him tidbits about the bar they were in at that moment in the show. So, to be polite (and to not get so irritated because it is happening again), I paused the show and listened to the  story. I figure, I give him the attention he needs, and I can still watch my goofy show, everyone’s happy, right? NOPE!!! He got upset with me for pausing the show…and then I got to listen to 5 minutes of, “I’ll stop talking now, you can put your show back on…” and stuff like that. So I did, then the fellas go to interview a moonshiner. So Chatty started in on how his great-grandfather was a big bootleggin’ moonshiner and he wont tell me the story now (that’s where I interjected a thank you), and that his great grandfather was a big bootleggin’ moonshiner (LOL, seriously, I don’t have to tell tall tales) and that the dudes were looking for him for months and they finally laid in wait for him at the still and a gun fight broke out. Great grandpa killed all 6 dudes, then later succomed to his injuries. I thanked him for not telling me the story now while I was watching the show (oh, oops, was I being bitchy? At this point, HELL YES!!!)…then he wanted to know what my problem was…

  Normally this wouldn’t bother me, but I have noticed that if I am watching something he isn’t interested in (lately I’ve been in the bedroom watching TV, he’s been out here in the living room) and if it’s commercial break for his show he’ll come in and hang out with me for the duration of said commercials. Oh, that’s really sweet, right? NO! MY show isn’t on a commercial break!!! SHUT UP!!!!

  So now what I do is simply switch the TV off, turn to him and say, “So whatcha wanna talk about?” That’s bad too (I know). But the problem seems to be that he doesn’t want to talk unless the TV is on…he seems to need to take my attention away from elsewhere and THEN he’s happy. If I take whatever had my attention before and remove it, he gets upset.

  Don’t worry, it’s not just about the TV. It’s about the rare occasion I am on the phone and he tries to get involved in the conversation, it’s about how we could be talking about African menstrual belts and he would have a relating story about himself,  it’s about how I call the dog and am petting her and playing with her and he jumps in basically shoves me aside (small exagerration) and pets and plays with the dog until I just do something else, like say, pet the cat. Then he’s all about the cat.  He doesn’t seem to want me to pay any attention to anyone or anything else because he will direct my attention to him. But if I spent my time staring at the wall and doing nothing else he wouldn’t need to take my attention away from the wall and direct it toward himself, so I just don’t get it. And I don’t know what to do. I am not in a position to entertain someone every second they are here and not playing XBox or watching the game…I done raised my kids already!!!

Heart Attack? Good. (??)

I got smacked in the face with a real truth the other day…my former boss, the man I had known and worked for for years, had a heart attack the other night. He laid there for a couple of hours, I guess, before anyone found him. And my first thought was not one you would typically expect…my first thought was, “Good!!!”

Now, I am not a heartless person…there IS a backstory to my awful feelings. Not that it makes said feelings right, but who is to say which feelings are right and when??

Let’s go back, shall we? I had worked for this fella when he only had a gas station, was there for 7 or so years when I decided to move on to a different career path. Flash forward about 10 years…the tow company had expanded as the gas station went the way of the dodo, and his dispatcher had quit quite a while back and he needed one and most importantly, he wanted me for the job (he wanted a lot of other people for the job too, but I was the one standing there). So I took it. I worked there for 3 years, and I started getting severe pain in my belly. To make a long story short, I had to get a hysterectomy. I scheduled the surgery (soonest I could get was over a month away), gave him plenty of notice, and talked to him about recovery time, etc.

Everything was fine for about a week, then he started getting really mad at me. I was really putting them in a tight spot by having this surgery, and he didn’t know what they were going to do, you know, really encouraging stuff like that. It certainly didn’t make me want to fight the pain and sit at that desk for 9 hours a day for some jerkoff, so when the pain was too bad I’d call in sick. They knew what was going on and what I was going through but were too concerned with having to cover me and not getting to go do whatever was so much more important than my health to give a crap. And that kept on until the surgery (which went ok, with only a couple of complications, thanks).

  So I was home for about a week, and not an uneventful one, either, but we are not talking about that right now…anyway…one of the other employees told me that the boss’ niece was now working at the tow company, and not temporarily while I was recovering, either!! I had been replaced!! Wow…so I have basically been hoping that Karma would take care of things, and I don’t think I am supposed to do that.

  The fact that I still have this anger for this man (seriously, I know I don’t have to go into the financial repercussions of the main bread winner in a family losing their job) has no effect on HIM, but what kind of effect does it have on ME?? The fact that someone said that someone had a heart attack and I immediately thought happy thoughts goes against every grain in what I thought of myself…and I guess it’s lucky that I have an extra 40+ hours a week to reflect on this…

“You Really Should Get Out More…”

    We moved out to the boonies when I was going into the 3rd grade. I was just citified enough for my new step brothers to have a great time scaring the beejeezus out of me, but I was also just bratty and spoiled enough to enjoy the hell out of them getting into trouble when I tattled…but something happened over the years as I grew up at the end of that 3 mile dirt driveway. The boys all ended up moving to town, the step brothers with their mom, and my big brother with our father, so I sort of grew up as an only child of sorts, riding motorcycles and raising pigs, and as a result have turned out different from any of my siblings. I’m the hillbilly of the family. I like the quiet and solitude of the country. I don’t have much use for the city life. Sure, maybe to visit, or even live for a little while, but I always end up back here in my home town…

  I, like everyone else, have taken a figurative beating in late 2010 and so far in 0’11. Got my uterus removed, lost my job, had to move, was tragically broke…all at the same time. We got settled into this new place and I’ll be damned if I haven’t turned into a hermit. But so what?? What’s wrong with staying at home? It’s free, for one. You don’t have to get out of your jammies, or listen to anyone’s crap, or get anyone’s cooties on you. I’m good at home.

  Well, circumstances brought us to San Francisco the other day. It’s about an hour and half, so we left early, did what we had to do, then decided to stop by Haight St because we had found some really rad vintage stores on a previous journey (I like to take weekend trips to cities, SF, Reno, stuff like that. Don’t ask me to go camping in the woods, I live there). 

  Ever tried to park a full size Chevy in San Francisco? I haven’t, but I must say, my Partner in Crime (who will hereafter be referred to as “PiC”) did a splendid job…but this was after about 20 laps around various blocks. That’s OK, the buildings are hella cool to look at. We don’t have those where I come from. We have redwoods. Anyway…PiC was starving, so after we forgot to put $ in the parking meter (we don’t have those where I come from either) we walked down to the McDonald’s. We got our food and went to a table around the corner, in an area of the restaurant that PiC referred to as “less crack-like.”

  We found a table and started our fine dining experience. Mostly eating, not much talking, we had some ‘sploring to do!!! PiC and I both noticed when 2 hobos came in and sat down across from us…about 12 feet, I’d say. No big whoop, when I see a hobo, I don’t immediately think “terrible person.” All I can say in hindsight is “Ms Fabulicious, you silly, silly little naive child!!!” But anyway… woman hobo had her arm in a sling, so man hobo had to open her drink for her (they brought their own), then threw the bag on the floor behind him. I thought, “Ass,” and kept on eating until I heard a splash near me, then another. I thought man hobo was throwing the drink across the room and I was about to become seriously pissed that he came so close to getting it on my shoes when I realized 2 things in slow motion: one, it was pink and two, he was barfing across the room. I haven’t seen that since my kiddo was a baby and projectile vomited over my shoulder, across the counter and onto the kitchen floor, but anyway…

  REALLY!!?!?! What in the holy horsefeathers are the chances of the one person that everyone says should get off that mountain, out of the trees, go see some stuff, enjoy public again (namely, me) getting almost-barfed on the one time all year she left the county??? Do you believe in signs from above? Can you say, “Validation??” I think I’ll stay on the mountain, thanks. The redwoods may be messy, but at least they don’t barf on you!!!

  Have a nice day!