Dr. Jerry

You know how you have lots of teachers, and then there are a few you remember? Dr. Jerry was one of mine. He taught me freshman biology, and I was terrified. I was an Arts major, and science was not for me. On the first day, we filed into the huge auditorium, and The Grateful Dead was playing. I couldn't tell you what song it was, but he would change it up a bit. Sometimes a little David Bowie would be playing. There were over 100 students in that class, and I just knew he would never know who I was. By the second week, he knew my name. He also knew I was struggling in the lab that was taught by a TA. How in the hell did he know that ? He cared. I was so terrified that I was going to fail biology. I didn't think I was capable of understanding anything related to science. Dr. Jerry tried his best to change that for me. He would meet with me in his office and go over the lab for that week. I would cry sometimes because I was 18 and didn't want to let everyone down. He would calm me down and start again. I didn't make an A in Dr. Jerry's class, but he didn't care. He was truly more concerned with me enjoying science and knowing that I was capable of understanding it.

Dr. Jerry died recently. He left behind so many loved ones. I never told him how much it meant that he took the time to just know who I was. I never told him that I appreciated the time he invested in me. I haven't thought about Dr. Jerry in awhile, but I cried at this news. His students meant something to him, and I hope he knew that he meant something to us. So, Dr. Jerry, I want you to know that, "When I had no wings to fly, you flew to me." Peace.

Neighbors

I bitch about my neighbors a lot on here. Kelly posted an entry the other day that reminded me of my old stomping grounds. When I entered grad school, I had NO money. My parents were kind enough to help me out with rent, but it wasn't going to be much. I really wanted to live by myself because I knew I would be studying around the clock. Plus, sharing a bathroom with someone you're not sleeping with or related to just sucks. It was the late 90's, and I had $200. Not only did I find a kick ass place to live by myself, I also had money left over. How, you ask? I lived in the ghetto. It was the old people ghetto, and it fucking rocked. The projects were across the street from my place, and it was always hopping. There would be slews of octogenarians around the laundry area and scattered throughout the porches. Some of the people I met through school were scared of my place. There was no reason. I would come home from a long day at work and school, and I would know the color, make, and license tag number of every car that had even thought of slowing down near my place. I couldn't even get out of the car before one of them was shuffling over there to give me the dirt. It was fantastic. It did suck when the grandkids would visit. They would come over and ask if I had cable. I'd just tell them that my mom wouldn't let me have visitors. They went away. I did have a crack whore knock on my door in the middle of the night. She needed a ride to pick her kid up. Being the kind hearted dumb ass that I am, I took her. She was terrified of my sweet doggy, so I insisted that she come too. My dog sat in the front seat and would growl at her every few minutes. Do you know she actually just needed to pick her kid up? I didn't get mugged or beat up. Poor crack whore just needed a ride.

Now, I live in a nice neighborhood, and I can't seem to get the stupid fucking assholes next door to understand that it is unacceptable to sit in your driveway with music blaring at 2:00 in the morning! That's ok, though. I'm sure they didn't like it when I leaned out of the bedroom window at 6:30 in the morning with my megaphone. Rise and shine, motherfuckers! I miss the projects.

The Great Knife Debacle

Mr. Bitchford's birthday is on Tuesday. I went shopping this morning, and I wanted to make sure I bought something from a shop downtown. I wanted to spend my money locally. I settled on the idea of getting him a nice chef's knife. He's been wanting one forever, and it's one of those things that you won't buy for yourself. We happen to have a locally owned kitchen shop, and the owner is super nice. I popped in and was instantly annoyed. There was a very loud woman on her cell phone. She was screaming about not getting a receptionist position. After the screaming woman finished her call, she asked the owner for a job application. By this time, I had selected a knife and was having it wrapped. The screamer was being told that the shop was not currently hiring, but she could leave her name and number. The screamer went on to talk about how hard it was to find a job and how badly she needed one. I get it. I have friends that have been affected by the economy. I read the paper and listen to the news. I'm not stupid. I am also very grateful that for the most part I haven't been affected. I hope this continues.

Back to my story. So, the shop owner gives me my total. It was a lot, but I knew it would be. I wanted to get him something really nice. The screamer let out a gasp. She turns to me and says, "How can you justify spending that on a stupid knife, when I can't even feed all of my children?" How in the fuck does one go about answering a question like that? I stared at her. She followed up by saying, "You are just flaunting the fact that you can spend that much. This is just stupid." Off she went out the door. The shop owner was horrified. I told her it was fine. While I think this woman was blaming the wrong person, I do understand her frustration. There was that evil side of me that wanted to ask her one question. Who did you vote for in the last national election? I had a hunch about her answer, and I might have slapped the shit out of her. But, what do you do? Can you really be angry at a woman who just wants to feed her kids? I don't know. Any thoughts?

The "Nerve" of Skinny Jeans

I just read this article about how skinny jeans can cause temporary tingling thigh syndrome. The solution to this stupid problem is not to wear your pants so tight that I can see your lips that don't sing. Know what I mean? I will never suffer from the TTS because my legs are actually built for carrying me around. I don't have large legs, and I don't suffer from the cankles. I also don't have legs that belong on a spider. Mine do NOT go on forever. If I wore a pair of skinny jeans, I would look like a webble wobble. This is not a good look for me. I would say that a small percentage of women should even be wearing the skinny jeans. Let's say 5% of women actually look good in the skinny jean. Does this constitute an article on how they are suffering? How about an article featuring the suffering that normal women go through because stupid skinny jean wearing bitches try to make you think that they are the norm? Where is that fucking article? I've just had my ass on my shoulders all week, so please excuse this empty, ranting post. Later.

P.S. I will be attending a friend's 30th b-day bash tomorrow night. I'm hoping to snap some inappropriate photos and possibly catch a cat fight or two on tape. This can be a wild bunch, so I'll report back.

A Good Idea at the Time

As I sit here reading page after page of law definitions, I wonder why in the hell I thought it was a good idea to go back to school. The last time I walked across the stage I just knew that was it for me. I had gone as far as I wanted to go, and I was satisfied. Wait. I started to remember the fancy velvet hoods that the graduates before me were getting. Damn it! I really wanted one of those. So, here I am. I'm drowning in text that the normal person would consider mind-numbing, but I actually find it interesting. I can't wait to bust out in a meeting with some of my new knowledge. Our first official class meeting is on Friday, and I'm nervous. According to the syllabus, the professor kind of sounds like a dick. He doesn't allow drinks in his classroom. WTF? Plus, I've seen him. He wears a bow tie. I generally hold that against men, and I do not know why. Maybe it's because these same men probably wear sun visors and play golf with the likes of Lovey Howell's husband. *sigh* I guess I'll suck it up. Send some good vibes my way.

Monster In-Laws

Actually, I really dig my in-laws, but it's funny to watch peoples' faces when I say they are coming. They do not venture into Eastwick very often because they used to live here. They pretty much hated it just like I do. They've since moved to the land of a blue state and are enjoying themselves. They just adopted a new dog, so she will be coming too. Apparently, she is giant and likes to jump on your lap. Oh well, it's better than a screaming kid with a loaded diaper. I was trying to prepare for their arrival because I wanted the house to be freaky clean and shit. What did I do? I threw out my back.

The last time they visited I had managed to throw out my back. I had been dancing with one of the dogs...don't ask...and it just went out on me. I was trying to throw away a giant bag of used kitty litter this time and out it went. Sometimes I wonder if I'm all that different or if people just don't talk about the real shit that goes down in their houses. Anyway, I've been hobbling around behind poor Mr. Bitchford and directing him on how to dust. He's such a good man. He hasn't said one cross word to me yet. Shit, I've annoyed myself a few times.

Isn't it funny how crazy we get when someone is coming to visit? I don't expect someone's house to be spotless. I just expect there to be no pubs on the toilet seat and no hair in my food. That's about it. I don't care about dust or a little clutter. Hey, at least I'm not going to serve them any meat from the door-to-door black market meat salesman.

On a side note, here's a shout out to Jessie at David's Doll. She just landed a professional photography gig. Snaps for The Doll!

Hmm

I watched Oprah yesterday. Michael J. Fox was on, and it ended up being a really good show. At first, I thought it might be a downer, but it wasn't. He's really funny. The show also featured interviews with him and his wife. Watching all of this made me realize something. Before I tell, I need to give you a little background.

Up until I met Mr. Bitchford, I don't know that I was ever really in love. I've been married before, and I look back and wonder why I didn't realize that I didn't really love my ex-husband. Maybe it was my age. Maybe it was the time in my life. Maybe he was just unlovable. Who knows? I've always said that if the person I was married to or in a relationship with suffered a debilitating accident/disease, I don't know that I would stay. I've always hoped that I would, but I never knew if I could do that or not.

So, back to my realization. I was watching Michael J. Fox and his wife interact, and it hit me. I would stay with Mr. Bitchford. I couldn't imagine abandoning him. It's weird how you float through life and begin relationships and end relationships. I can honestly say, for the first time, that I am in love. Weird.

Costco Incident

A disturbing incident happened at Costco last weekend, and I've been trying to process whether or not I took enough action or too much action. I went to visit Mrs. Flax, and I decided we should go to Costco. I had never been, and I needed lots of microwave popcorn. Off we went! First of all, Costco rocked. I wish Eastwick had one, but it's a sucky place to live, so...

Mrs. Flax and I were standing in line, and there was a boy between the ages of 8 - 10 in front of us. He was in line with a woman that looked like she was his grandmother. Directly beside us was a young family. There was a mom and dad in their late 20's or early 30's and a little girl about 3 or 4 years old. The little girl was standing up in the buggy, and she fell. It wasn't a big deal. She bumped her head, but she didn't even cry or whimper. The dad took her out of the buggy and held her. The little boy, who was in my line, pointed at her and said, "Ha ha." It wasn't even that loud. It was just the kind of stupid shit that kids do. This man punched the little boy in the stomach and said, "That's not funny." I stared with my mouth wide open. I couldn't believe that this strange man had hit a child. After about 30 seconds, I told Mrs. Flax what had happened. She had been rooting around in the cart and hadn't witnessed the madness. I leaned over and asked the little boy if he was ok. He was crying and holding his stomach. The young family got their shit together and headed towards the exit. The grandmotherly woman turned around and asked, "What happened?" I pointed to the man's back and told her that he had hit the boy. She said, "That's his dad." She didn't really say it like that changed anything, but I got this feeling that other people thought it did. She paid for her items and asked, "Did he hit him hard?" I said that he had, and I didn't realize that was his dad. She said, "It doesn't matter. He shouldn't hit him." She put her arm around the boy and started marching towards the young couple. She turned around abruptly and said, "Thank you."

I still feel like I should have done more, but is there some imaginary line that you don't cross with someone else's kid? I felt like the dad was out of line. First, I just don't think you hit children or anyone really. Now, there are times where I feel like beating the shit out of some adults, and in the past I have been in a few bar brawls, but I still know it's wrong. Plus, I haven't hit a child. I don't know what else I would have done. Technically, I doubt the police would have done anything about it. I still feel terrible, though, because that little boy probably gets pushed around a lot. If a parent is bold enough to punch a child in the stomach in public, then what is the parent doing behind closed doors? I'm just stumped and upset.

Snobs

I'm addicted to GoodReads. This is a good thing and a bad thing. It's good because I love to read, and I have stumbled across so many books that I wouldn't have discovered on my own. This is a bad thing because sometimes I just like to read trash. I can enjoy just about any kind of book. I do tend to stay away from sci-fi or fantasy, but I will try and read just about anything. I've found myself not wanting to list everything I read. Some stuff is just silly. I really like chick lit because it helps with my stress level. I don't really have to concentrate, and I know the ending will be happy. One thing I have noticed is that some reviewers are complete and total book snobs. I'm not down with this. Why be so serious? If something sucks, then I do appreciate someone telling me why he/she thought it sucked; however, don't be a snob! Here's an example. I read some of the reviews for a book called A Piece of Cake. I really liked this book, and I thought the author had an important story to tell. Other reviewers slammed her for her "bad grammar" and writing style. I didn't really see this. So, Sukie borrowed the book from me, and I was interested to see what her review would be. She liked it, and she called those other reviewers out. There wasn't any bad grammar. It was a rough story to get through, but it was real.

So, I only have a handful of friends on GoodReads, but I'm ok with that. I like chick lit and silly plot lines sometimes, and I'm ok with that. What do you expect from someone who finds shit like this just fucking hilarious?

Crazy Vacay!

Mr. Bitchford and I began our whirlwind vacation last week. It began with a crazed visit to our oldest friends' home. They are married. It was crazed because their two-year old has discovered his own free will. It was ugly, and that is all I'm gonna say. We went on to attend my nephew's b-day party. The crazy germaphobe bitch didn't show. There was screaming, happy meals, cake, and presents. My nephew's girlfriend broke up with him, and it was reported that he was in a corner repeating, "It's all my damn fault." By the end of the party, they were back together and all was well. As far as the curse words, well, we are all guilty for those. ;)

Mr. Bitchford and I headed to the mountains for a few days, and the dogs came with us. There were no phones, and there was no computer. It was very relaxing, but I am glad to be back home. I like having my own shit around me. So, a week from now I will probably be complaining about how I need another vacation, but for now, I'm glad things are winding down. I'm also glad to NOT be trapped in the fucking car anymore.

Our governor still sucks. Eastwick is still built upon the stinking, steaming depths of hell. The Eastwickeans still drive like they are in wind up cars and will lose power at any second. I love being back home.

Germaphobe Soccer Mom Saga Continues

Here's the latest email.

"I know you probably think I am the biggest goof but the actual Flu (versus just strep, head cold, etc.) can be fatal and I know that McD's never cleans their toys, spit, saliva and germs are all over those climbing things, and normally I would care less, but its the flu. Every snot nosed kid there would creep me out and in my heart, I just can't do it (I have thought about it over and over). I do have something for the birthday boy. Is there an evening/afternoon next week that we can get together for a little playdate?"

Do moms seriously send shit like this to other people? I've come up with a variety of responses.

1. Fuck off, crazy flu whore.
2. I'm sorry. If your kid comes over to my house, my kid might make him sick and kill him.
3. You are officially uninvited and banned from ever communicating with me again.

I know you guys will have some more. What are the chances that a woman (or a man) will make this little boy happy one day? I'm guessing the chances are slim.

Look Out for your Neighbor

When the economy began tanking, I knew it would be bad, but I didn't anticipate how desperate people would become. This is a news story detailing a bank robbery that happened in a county down the road from Eastwick. According to the police, the man did not have a criminal record. I'm not excusing robbing a bank and putting these people in danger, but I think we will see more and more of this. I was having a conversation with Mr. Preppypants the other day, and he just pissed me the fuck off. As you can imagine from my previous posts, Mr. Preppypants and I do not agree on a lot, especially on politics. He was giving his view on the stimulus package and President Obama. He basically said that the whole thing blows, and he shouldn't be held responsible for helping someone else. Well, why not? I've always felt like the Republican party, which Mr. Preppypants belongs to, feels as though community organizations should take care of people down on their luck. In the Eastwick area, this mainly consists of faith-based organizations. Now, I don't prescribe to the Eastwickeans idea of religion, but I still believe that these places do wonderful things for my community. I try to give as much as I'm able to give. I asked Mr. Preppypants, "When is the last time you gave money to one of these organizations? When was the last time you volunteered?" His response was that he shouldn't have to help "these" people. My response was, "Well, if we don't help through the community and faith based organizations, then the government will have to get involved." His response was for them to fend for themselves. I would like to think that I'm right, but who knows. All I know is that it makes me feel better to care for my neighbor than to turn a blind eye. I wish someone would have done that for the man in the article. Maybe he wouldn't have felt so trapped.

Technology Killed the Library Book

I've heard about the Kindle. Have you guys? Apparently, there is a new version out. Here's a story. Why would someone want to read a book on a tiny computer screen? Some of my most relaxing moments have happened sitting in a lounge chair with stacks and stacks of library books around me, while a nice ocean breeze ruffled the pages. Never in this moment have I had to worry about sand in my Kindle. What the fuck, people? I love technology. I'm not a person that thinks technology is only for young people. I also don't think it will destroy us all. It can be really cool and convenient; however, it can also take things away from us. You never know what you will find in a library book. I love it when someone has actually written little notes throughout the book. I borrowed a book from Sukie awhile back, and she had underlined some of her favorite passages. It made me pay attention to those passages and ask her about them later. It sparked a nice conversation on the way to work. This would NOT have happened with the Kindle. I'm hoping that this new technology will die along with the PedEgg and the Kinoki detox foot pads. Eww.

Coraline

Mr. Bitchford and I do not go to the movies much, but we finally decided to check out Coraline last night. Now, you must first know that I do NOT go to the movies at night and/or on the weekends. I do not like most people, so I don't want to be surrounded by a bunch of Eastwickeans. We arrived, and I was amazed at the amount of people there. Once we entered the theater (with both of us already wearing our 3D glasses because we are geeks like that), I was overtaken by the smell of wonderful, greasy food. There was popcorn with trans fat topping on it. There was candy being rattled around in packages. There were sodas as big as my fucking head being slurped, and there was motherfucking pizza! I did not know that the movie theater sold pizza. So, we sit down with our Buddy Holly look alike 3D glasses on, and the previews begin. Just so you know, an awesome looking Tim Burton film will be coming out in September. I believe it is called 9.


So, Coraline bounces on to the screen, and she has blue hair. She's terribly cute and quirky looking, and the intro is very Beetlejuice like. I won't go into too much detail because I encourage you to go check it out. Here are some things to look forward to in the film.

• Scary Scotty dog bats
• Naked cartoon boobs
• Teri Hatcher turning into her real-life self near the end
• Some balls almost being cut off

All in all, you should expect a very dark, but wonderful movie. Oh, and a plus is that They Might Be Giants sing a song in the movie. Very cool.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Hershey closing Peppermint Patties plant in Pa.

This was the headline that caught my eye today. The peppermint patties will no longer be made in the U.S. Production will now be in Monterey, Mexico. The news report stated that around 300 U.S. jobs will be lost. When I first heard the news, my instinct was to not buy this product anymore. If everyone has the same reaction, then the peppermint patty will cease to exist. Is this right or wrong? I guess it's just me exercising my right as a consumer, but it seemed sad. I've heard the news, like everyone else, about losing American jobs, but for some reason the Hershey giant having to give up and move production of one of its popular candies made me really sad. Will you guys continue to buy products that are made in other countries? I try to buy local, but it can be expensive and hard to find certain products. Any tips out there?

I'm as Free as a Bird Now

My birthday is coming up next month, so Mr. Bitchford asked me to make a wish list. Here it is.

1. A tiara
2. A porch swing
3. A rocking chair
4. A pearl handle revolver that will fit in my favorite handbag

He looked at the list and said, "Wow. You really are southern." I don't really identify with being a southern woman because southern people are usually depicted as stupid. We don't all have a thick drawl, and we aren't all conservative Baptists. I'm a somewhat Buddhist following socialist stuck in Eastwick. Now you see why I need the pearl handled revolver. I feel very out of place because of the way I speak and because of my political and social views. On the flip side of this, I fit right in at a honkey tonk with a bottle of beer in my hand. There's nothing like spending the day out on the lake, and then spending your evening on the deck of your favorite watering hole. So, while I may call a vending machine a ge-dunk (because of the sound the food makes when it falls), and I might say ya'll, this doesn't mean that I fit all of the southern stereotypes. Just don't show anyone my birthday wish list, please. ;)

The First Weigh In

I weigh in tomorrow morning, and I feel like I've lost some weight this week. I've been following my online plan, and it hasn't been that bad. Just North of Eastwick is doing this with me, so we've used each other for support. I've earned activity points this week, and I haven't used them! This is a good thing. If I lose 2 lbs., then I will earn some itunes bucks. I need some new tunes for my iPod. If I'm going to be working out more, then I need some variety. Any suggestions? I'm thinking of downloading some Katy Perry. No, I'm not a 13 year old preteen, but I do enjoy the fast beats in some of her songs. I think I could run to them. Wish me luck!

We Are Family

I saw this article in my morning troll of news websites, and I thought I would share.

Article

At first it just made me giggle a little, but then I really thought about the situation. Why would not being invited send you into a fit of rage? If you pulled your own sister's hair out, then you had to be in a fit of rage. Does rejection really affect people in this way? I continued searching, and I ran across this article.

Article

WTF? She breaks up with you, so you stab her to get your breast implants back. This is not logical thinking. I can't think of a time that rejection sent me over the edge like this. I did pee in my ex-husband's shampoo bottle one time. That was because I was tired of him yelling at me about money, when I was the one making it all. So, that was about revenge. Oh, and I racked him in the balls right after I told him to move out of my house, and he told me to make him. I was just following through with his request. I think I get it from my mother. When I was a tween, a local neighborhood teenager ran over our cat...on purpose. We know this because he came up to me and said, "Hey. I ran over your cat last night on purpose." He laughed. His father was meticulous about his grass. My mother knew this, so she collected me and a friend and started to concoct her plan. She bought several boxes of Tide laundry detergent on an evening we were expecting rain. She drove me and the friend to this man's house, and we dumped the detergent all over the really nice landscaped lawn. Then, it rained. Boy, did it rain! There were suds all over the place, plus it killed his grass. See what you get, when you run over my mom's cat, motherfucker!

So, does anyone have any good revenge stories to tell...or perhaps rejection stories???

Self-esteem Issues

I think I have self-esteem issues. When I get ready for work in the mornings, I take one last look at myself before I leave. I think to myself, "Damn. I look good." I love the way my pencil skirt hugs my bootylicious, round ass. I like the way my secretary sweater set clings to my ample bosom. My hair is pretty and shiny. It's also very stylish and suits my small-shaped face. My eyes are the perfect shade of blue, and it takes very little eye shadow to highlight them. My teeth are straight and white, complete with a mega-watt smile. So, what's the problem? My high self-esteem has kept me from admitting that I should lose the 20 lbs. I've put on since meeting Mr. Bitchford!

I'm thinking of joining Weight Watchers. The idea of joining a group to talk about my weight and eating issues is scary. I don't want anyone to know that I have baked potatoes and Diet Coke for breakfast. I don't want anyone to know that dinner is sometimes a bag of Baked Lays cheddar and sour cream chips. Baked because I like those better than the greasy ones...not because I think they are better for me. I do need to eat more fruits and veggies. I'm getting older, and this diet of mine is going to catch up with me. I'm not overweight by any means, but I could stand to tone up and eat better. If I keep ignoring my eating habits, I will be overweight. So, should I join the group and see how it goes? Or...should I join the online version and skulk around on the message boards. I bet it would make for good blog material. :)

America the Beautiful

Happy Inauguration Day! Sukie and I were able to slip away from work for a few hours and attend a party. There were a lot of people, especially for it to be Eastwick. Everyone was in good spirits, and it was just an all around good day. I feel hopeful today. Mr. Bitchford and I had to run by the local Publix on our way home, and we ran into (literally) and old woman. She had her cart all wedged up in the soup aisle, and of course all I needed was one can of tomato. Anyway, we waited for her to spot us, but she didn't. Mr. Bitchford asked her if he could just slip in behind her buggy for a minute to grab a can of soup. She looked at him and said, "Sure. Isn't this just the best day ever?" We both smiled really big and responded, "Yes, it is." Did anyone out there get to attend the inauguration live?