There are a lot of times when my brain and my mouth don't communicate well. Things just fly out of my mouth without asking for clearance.
One weekend was a complete party weekend. The kids were gone and my friend Robin and I were going out! My friend Robin and I went out Friday night and I stayed up the rest of the night playing darts. Darts are a downfall of mine. I love to play but I can't play for very long because I put too much weight on my knee and it swells up. It didn't deter me from going out dancing again on Saturday night.
By Sunday night both of my knees were swollen up pretty bad and I was having trouble walking. Dj came home from her dad's and saw me limping. She asked me what happened to my knees this time.
Without any thought at all I simply said "Oh! I was on them all weekend!"
It took a lot of explaining to get myself out of that one.

It started out innocent enough. I was just reading a blog and it linked to another blog. Before I knew it I clicked through to a dominant/submissive blog. It was written by the slave and I read a bit of it.
I have to say this, I love my husband with every ounce of my being but if he ever talked to me the way these dominants talk to their submissive, I would doe him in the fucking nose!

This is Belle. She was our other dog. I say was because she died last night. She didn't just die. Some one killed her while we were at work. She was tied up by our front door. I asked the neighbor if they saw anyone go to our house and she said no.

She said she left around lunch and Belle was sitting on the porch looking around but she didn't notice her when she got back.

Some miserable fuck hit her in the head with a piece of wood and left it laying beside her.

The only thing we can think of is someone was trying to get into the house and she nailed them. All I can say for them is karma is a bitch and they better hope like hell the cops get them before Jeff does.

This was going to be a happy post introducing the rest of Bob's family. Maybe tomorrow.

This is Bob. He has been with Jeff for years. As soon as Jeff moved in with me, he became my dog. He loves to ride in the truck and pretty much goes everywhere with me.
Bob has the best temperament of any dog I have ever been around. He's lazy like me and rarely barks, yet he is very protective of me.
The other day Jeff and I were wrestling around and I had a fly swatter in my hand. When I went to hit Jeff with it he blocked my hand and I ended up swinging it towards Bob. That dog jumped and yelped and started cowering down and wanted nothing to do with me for a few minutes.
It has me thinking. Who in the hell has hit my dog? I can't imagine him giving anyone a reason to be abusive to him. He's very gentle and doesn't do confrontation.
All I can say is whoever hit him better hope I don't find out about it or they will get a taste of their own medicine.

About a year ago we were out working some cattle. The guys were trying to rope one and it was good at getting away. Then out of the blue one of them dropped. Dropped, as in it was dead. I was riding in the gator behind the guys. I looked down to do something and when I looked up this is what I saw. That is my husband giving mouth to mouth to a cow! And that cow isn't me!
I guess I should say his mouth isn't actully to the cow's mouth, but it's damn close enough!

I was 14 on the day of the great bologna incident.
My brother is a year older than me but has asthma so he was always smaller then me and not near as mean as I was. When I was younger I was a big bully and thought the word please should get me anything I wanted. If it didn't I took it and I dared anyone to take it back.
Frank was eating a bologna sandwich. I didn't even like bologna but decided I just had to have a bite of it. I asked nicely for a bite (even said please) and the fucker had the nerve to tell me no! So I took it and got a great big bite. He slapped me so I threw the sandwich at him. The bread flew off and the bologna slapped him right in the face. And it stuck! Time stood still as that damn piece of bologna finally peeled off his face.
I saw the look in his eyes and he meant business so I took off running for my bedroom; through the kitchen and down the hall. I ran onto my bed and made a circle and went back through the hall. (He never did learn to just stand in the door, he always followed me.) I got to the end of the hall and inspiration struck!
He was closing in on me so I reached out and opened the refrigerator door. He ran smooth into that door with a loud *BAM!*. Knocked his ass out cold!
He still didn't learn. I had to fight him the next time I said please too.

I have a shirt that I bought about two years ago. I've worn it maybe three times, then it just disappeared. I have torn my house up looking for it to no avail. Let me just say here that I love this shirt!

Last night I went to pick Dylan up after his week long stay at bible camp. This year someone made all the kids a dvd of the week. Dylan and I sat down on the couch to watch it and you will never believe what I saw about five minutes into the dvd.

That's right! MY SHIRT! The little thief! If the shit was so damn cute I would call the cops on him!

I woke up this morning pissed off and things have just went downhill from there. Since I can't be nice I will just tell you how my husband finally got me back in a small way.

Last night I was sitting on his lap picking at him. I leaned up and licked his forehead. I sat back and said "Damn! Your all sweaty!" He told me his air conditioner was broke in his truck. Then he said "Well it works, it just won't blow. Kinda like my wife!"

I have decided that if my husband is not up for sainthood he should be.
He was raised by his grandparents in what I would call the old way. He is very polite, opens doors for women, he says fuck a lot but I can not get him to call someone a bitch. Any sort of sex talk embarrasses him to no end. I derive much amusement from this. He is a workaholic, he can't handle just sitting around the house doing nothing.
The other day we were in line to order our food and I kept picking at him. When he started picking back I told him that if he touched me again I would yell rape and the cop behind him would arrest him. He didn't quit and I didn't yell rape but I did get him pretty good when we ordered. Before we got up there he told me that I had to pay. I had my money ready and the order came to $18.07. I turned to him and said "Can you at least contribute 7 cents?" He got occupied with digging the change out of his pocket so I turned to the cashier and said "You have no idea what it's like to be married to a bum that won't work. He makes me pay for everything!" Poor Jeff's jaw just dropped and the cashier had no clue what to say. I busted out laughing as Jeff is trying to convince her that I was lying.
If Jeff gets still at home that is my cue to start picking and poking at him. I was laying on the couch the other night and he came and laid beside me. He got still, I couldn't handle it. His head was laying so that his bald spot was right at my face so I licked it. When he jumped to get me for it I couldn't stop myself I had to stick my finger in his ear. When he went to block that another finger came at his nose. This is how it is every night.
Dj gives him just as much hell. Some times we even gang up on him. He takes every bit of what we throw at him and laughs about it. He does plot against us and has gotten several good licks in.
My point is, I am so thankful for the man I married and thankful that he has what it takes to survive my constant jumping about and picking. He endures my mood swings and takes it all in stride.
Thank you baby for putting up with me and for loving me just as I am.

I knew when I started sharing my past my mom would take a big hit. Mom made a lot of mistakes in her life. I'm not going to make any excuses for her behavior other then to say drugs and alcohol had a tight hold on her for those years she was married to Gary.
If you met our family out on the streets, you would have never guessed anything was wrong. People that came to our house would never have guessed anything was wrong. Hell, my brother grew up in the same house and barely knew anything was wrong. He remembers our childhood a lot different then I do. I have said it before and I will say it again, things were bad for me but no where near as bad as some people had it. It could have been worse. All our needs and most all of our wants were taken care. We were never dirty, always had nice clothes, and we never went without food. On the surface everything was great. I do have some good memories of those years. Right now the bad ones outweigh them as I attempt to work through the things I need to work through.
Everyone that met my mom loved her. She really was a good woman that made many mistakes raising us. Once she got away from Gary she even evolved into a good mom. Her and I got really close and there was nothing I couldn't talk to her about but, there were a few things I wasn't willing to talk to her about. I have forgiven her for the role she played in my downfall.
I used to blog at another place. When I made the decision to start talking about my past I moved the blog. My daughter read the other one and I didn't want her to have to reconcile the grandmother she knew with the mother that I remember. She finally got it right when my kids were born and I had no fears about their safety and well being when they were left with her.
I will not ask you to be nice with your opinions of my mom when I post bad things. Your feelings about it are natural feelings and I understand that. But I am asking you to keep in mind when you read these things that I am showing you a small part of my life with her. The bad parts are out there right now but the good will come. I will also ask that you not be surprised when if I jump to her defense.

I know it's not Monday but I was really busy yesterday. So, for this week we will pretend that it is Monday.
*Disclaimer: This contains some harsh language and is violent.*
I grew up in Southeast Alabama. I was there in a time that racism was rampant. I can remember a lot of things that I didn't understand at the time and still don't but for different reasons. I still can't quite decide if my mom was prejudice or if she was just following along with Gary. I say that because of what I'm about to tell you and because I clearly remember her having black friends.
When I started high school interracial relationships were just getting started. It was still taboo for the most part. I had a close friend named Kim. She started dating a black boy and was very open with it. He had a twin brother. So from time to time when Kim was near her boyfriend, the twin and I were around. He had a girlfriend but that was overlooked and rumors started to fly about me and the twin. For the most part, I ignored it and that was my downfall.
One weekend I spent the night with Kim. As soon as her parents fell asleep we went out a window. Her boyfriend and his cousin picked us up down the road and we headed off to the cousin's house. Kim and her man went to another room to do their thing while the cousin and I sat in the living room and got drunk and watch football. For once in my life I was completely innocent of any wrong doing, except the whole sneaking out thing.
When we finally headed back to her house the guys drove past the house and it was all dark and quiet. They let us out a block or so away. We were almost to her house and I looked up and saw all the lights on in the house. I froze and Kim asked what was wrong and I pointed to the lights. We slowly started making our way up the sidewalk to their house. Her dad popped up out of the bushes and said "Did you girls have fun?" I think it was that point that we both shit ourselves.
Once he escorted us into the house, the yelling and such began. Not so much at me but at Kim who had hickeys all over her neck. Apparently they had been awake since we left because on of her dogs started barking as we went out the window and that started the other four or five dogs in their house. Her parents told me that they weren't going to tell my parents about it but I wasn't allowed to come back to stay for a little while. For some reason I felt awful that my parents weren't going to know and she was taking the wrap for the whole thing, even though I really didn't do anything but sneak out.
Fast forward a couple weeks.
I got home from school and my aunt and uncle were there. My parents and them were going somewhere. They said good-bye and they left, or so I thought. I grabbed the phone to call someone and my mom came into the living room and took the phone out of my hand and hit me in the head with it. She told me to get my ass out to the truck and get in the back. (It was November and the start of Thanksgiving break.) She handed me a sheet and told me to try and stay warm. I had no clue what was going on but a couple miles from the house the back sliding glass was opened and Mom and Gary started a steady chorus of "Look Jennifer! There's a nigger, do you want him too?" They would pop me in the back of the head as they said it. We rode around like that for about 2 hours. It was damn cold and miserable.
My only thoughts were Kim's parents had called mine and told them about that night. After the ride was over my uncle took me aside and told me what was really going on. He had been out in his yard and the kids across the street were also outside talking loudly. They started talking about Kim and her boyfriend and me and his brother. My uncle started asking questions and instead of asking for any proof he just took their word for it. I kept telling them it was a lie and that he had a girlfriend that wasn't me but they didn't want to hear it. What those kids said had to be the truth.
My aunt and uncle left and the real shit started. My brother and I went down to the wood pile to bring some wood to the house. I was stacking a piece in the back of the truck when my mom suddenly showed up and punched me right in the face which knocked me to the ground. She started grinding my face into the dirt and told me that no child of hers would ever date a nigger. I was screaming and yelling for help as she beat the shit out of me but I guess none of the neighbors were home. She finally let me up and told me to get the wood to the house.
After I got in the house Gary told me to start cleaning everything out of my room; notes, diary, posters, and all the other things that could be burnt. I was to take them and throw them in the wood heater and burn them all. He matched me step for step kicking me as I walked. Mom stood in the kitchen which was halfway between the stove and my bedroom. As I walked by each time she punched me in the mouth. At some point her fist must have hit my tooth because she started yelling that I bit her. I was standing by my closet when Gary grabbed me around my throat and pushed me up against the closet wall. He was up in my face screaming at me for biting my mother and for having a nigger boyfriend. I started yelling I can't breathe and he said "You can breathe just fine or you wouldn't be able to yell like that!"
When they finally let me go and everything was burnt, I curled up between my bed and the wall. Mom came in and started trying to get to me again. This time Gary stopped her and got her out of my room. He started talking to me and I told him to ask around and to ask Kim and her parents they would back me up that I wasn't dating anyone. He agreed and we loaded up in the truck again and made the 10 mile trip to Kim's house. Her parents talked to mine for a long time and confirmed what they knew about me and also about the night we took off.
Our parents agreed that we were no longer to be friends and couldn't talk to each other or anything anymore. It was actually ok with me because I was tired of dealing with her for other reasons then choice of boyfriends. When we left their house I got to ride in the front of the truck. I went straight to bed when we got there.
A few weeks later I made my first attempt at suicide. Shortly after I met the man that would become my dad in every sense of the word and save my life.

I was in bed Friday night just almost asleep when my phone rang. I was in that barely awake state and didn't pay attention to what was on the caller ID. I just knew it was late and my phone was ringing, so something must be wrong. I answered it and there was a frantic woman on the other end.
She said "I know you don't know me but I am calling all the numbers on my grandson's phone. He is missing and I was wondering if you know where he is?" I just said "Ma'am who is your grandson?" She told me his name is Roland and my phone number was on his phone and she thought maybe one of my children knew him.
I finally became aware enough of what was going on and thought to ask her where she lives. (Dylan lives with his dad about 40 miles from where I live with Dj.) When she answered me I told her that Dylan must have called him using my phone instead of his own. She said "Dylan! Yes Dylan! He is a friend of Roland's. Has Roland been to your house?" I told her Dylan was with his dad right now and I hadn't seen him in a few days but I would call and have them get in touch with her.
I called Dylan's phone and got no answer so I called his step mom's phone and talked to her and told her what was going on. She got the lady's phone number from me and hung up. I went back to bed and my imagination started running wild because Dylan didn't answer his phone. I was worried that he might be missing too. After I awhile I finally calmed myself down by convincing myself that if he wasn't ok they would have told me. I know they would have, we communicate great where the kids are involved.
At about midnight the lady called me again. She asked if she had already called me and I said yes and asked her if Dylan's step mom had called her. She told me no his dad called and Roland had been at their house until 9:30 when he left. I told her I would keep them in my prayers and we got off the phone.
The next morning I called the ex to see what was going on and his wife answered. She told me that Roland had been there and wanted to spend the night. The boys told them his grandmother had got mad and kicked him out. When Dylan's dad said get in the truck and lets go talk to her he said no he didn't want to see her. The ex told him that if he wouldn't go with him to talk to her then he couldn't spend the night there so Roland left. The real story was Roland had got in trouble and his grandmother grounded him. He went to his room for awhile then sneaked out.
I have tried to call the number back a couple times to see if the boy had been found and can't get an answer. I have asked Dylan a few times and even his dad. No one knows. I asked Dylan if he was going to try and find out and he just said no he is a big boy. I can't understand why no one is trying to find out. I don't know the boy and he very well might do this a lot, but still, he's a kid. Some one should be trying to find out something.

• Another perk to small town living: Getting free drinks at the store you go to every day just because you go there every day.
• A friend of mine was carrying something a little heavy while her husband stood and watched her. She became my hero when she handed it to him and said "Hold this for a minute." Then she started out the door and said "Now follow me." He did it.
• Have I ever mentioned that my husband turns really red when there is anything remotely close to sex talk happening around him? Well, he does. The other day we went to grab a couple things at the store. I got some cantaloupe and he got some jalapeno smoked sausages. While standing in line to pay out I asked him if he wanted to touch my melons. He turned red and said no. I couldn't stop myself I had to ask "So I guess you just want to stand there and hold your weenie!"
• Right now I *heart* the IRS. Well part of them anyway. I had a problem come up with some papers I filed and when I called about it they said after 10 weeks of the papers sitting they they haven't been touched. They referred me to an advocate. They called me this morning and said it's being handled now and I should have a resolution in a few days.
• A friend is going through a trying time with her mother. She is a bit of a hypochondriac. She is the type that wants something to be wrong with her really bad so she can soak up the pity and attention that comes with the illness. She don't understand that she would get way more attention if she would just be the great woman she can be. That being said she tickled the shit out of us the other day. She broke her toe. (She really did.) Instead of asking her daughter to drive her to the doc, she asked her daughter if she thought she should call an ambulance.

I think I bypassed turning into my mother and went straight to turning into my grandparents. I'm 36 years old and I realized I might as well be 86.

1. I know the gas prices at every store in town and in two neighboring towns.
2. I can not go to bed at night without watching the weather.
3. As soon as I get home every day I sit down to watch the news. I frequently shush others so I can hear it.
4. If I am not in bed by 10:30 every night I am worn out the next day and cranky.
5. I now have aches and pains in places I never knew existed before.
6. When reading the newspaper, I no longer bypass the obits and head straight for the comics. I read the obits and most of the time know people listed.

I haven't got to the point where I tell people about my last bowel movement.

But I could!

Or a med student, nurse, veterinarian, an actor who plays one on tv? Yet again this morning I woke up swollen up like a bullfrog. I've gained six pounds in two days. I don't feel bad and I don't have fever but my face feels like it is on fire and burning from the inside out.
I think I found my problem this morning though. I am very, very allergic to poison ivy. I have to little patches of rash on each of my wrists. I haven't needed a shot for it in a long time but if I don't do some serious shrinking pretty soon, I'm heading on over to get shot.

No memories today. I woke up this morning and my face is all swelled up and so is my ankle. I have no clue why but it has made me cranky as hell. Every one has been making wide circles around me at home because no matter what comes out of their mouths I just bite their heads off. I'm going to go take a nap.

Last week Amy over at Amy's Musings posted about natural disasters verses man - made disasters. The comments turned towards how people are treated when they get into financial distress and lose their homes due to foreclosure. Due to my current job situation I have seen more then my fair share of such nasty treatment.
The owners of the store I work in got into a financial bind caused by a couple different things, ailing parents, and a sibling that is a leech. They are good people who generally help anyone in need. They have flaws, but everyone does.
They sold the store and decided to move out of town. Since the new owners have taken over the gossip mongers come into the store on a regular basis.
Yesterday I was sitting at work and a lady came in. I have no clue what her name is but she used to be a regular customer. She came in under the pretense of finding out if we were closing down or not. After I told her the store was sold she kept sitting here. It wasn't long until her hateful side came out. As politely as she could she started trash talking the previous owners not knowing that I am actually friends with them and have been for quite some time.
It took everything in me to hold my tongue considering the new owners might want to keep her business. I'm sick and tired of it already. People don't want to accept that there was no way to avoid the problems they have that prompted them to sell the store. The owners have parents in bad health, and that is a financial drain no matter how hard you work to pay of the bills.
I guess what I'm really trying to say is I wish people would be a little more considerate. Offer a hug or even just a hello sometimes instead of insults. Get the whole story instead of making up your own version of it before you go spread the news.

The paint fumes from this funky blue paint they are painting the office are getting to me. I'm off to play with my toes.

I was watching the Today Show this morning and saw something that really rocked me. They did a story about a man that was crossing the road and was hit by two different cars. The story and video is here.
What really rocked me was how nobody tried to help this man. They stood and gawked at him, cars passed around him, someone on a moped circled him but never once did anyone go to him and try to do anything. The two cars that hit him sped away. Although they did say that four people called 911.
It was blamed on it being a big town with no feeling of community. I don't buy it. It is called being selfish and no respect for human life.

I have several questions that run around in my head for one reason or another. Last night as I was trying to go to sleep one popped into my head and I laid there trying to think it out and decide what my opinion was.
The question is: Can people that grow up in a bad lifestyle still live that lifestyle and be good people? An example of this is the mafia. They are born into a family that does some bad things, they participate but also do great things. I mean can you justify putting a hit on someone for stealing $5,000 from you by giving $10,000 to a local charity?
I go back and forth with it. Is it right to take a life while giving life to many? My first thought was no because that one life might have combined with you to double the good you could have done. Then my thoughts went to the fact that the person was probably a blight on humanity as it was so the person did the world two good services.
After I fell asleep last night I was haunted by nightmares of Gary. It's the same concept as I talked about earlier but reversed. He was raised in a good family and turned out to do some good work but was an evil man. At home he was sadistic but in his professional life he was/is a paramedic. On one side he beat his wife and molested his daughter but tenderly cared for the wounds of another wife or daughter that suffered the same at their own home.
I don't know maybe I'm comparing apples and oranges.
What do you think?

• This picture has nothing to do with anything, I just thought it was a really cool looking curly fry.
• Our store used to take utility payments. When the new owners took over they decided to focus on phones only. I get yelled at once a day by some one because I can no longer take their payment. The people that yell I always tell them I have no clue where to make payments anymore. There is a place two blocks down that takes them.
• I just had a funny, nice looking customer come in. I set him up with a friend of mine. I like to think we are a full service company.
• I want to move. I have a neighbor that likes to report everything to the landlord. Not that we are doing anything, but if we go pick a tomato out of the garden the landlord will tell us the next time he sees us "So, I hear you ate a tomato. Was it any good?"
• Sorry but I am all out of things to say now.

Remember my tootsie roll post? It's ok if you don't, I didn't either.
I contacted the tootsie roll people the day I found the staple. They sent me an envelope and asked me to send it into them so they could investigate it. I'm not real sure how you investigate a tootsie roll but I mailed it to them so they could do their thing. Then I promptly forgot about it.
I was cleaning out my inbox Saturday and found an email they sent me after I reported it to them. I emailed them to ask what the investigation found. This is the reply I got back from them yesterday morning.
"Jennifer, we received the sample. It was rejected by the metal detectors. We are looking into why and how it happened. We will be sending you some complimentary product for your trouble.
Thanks again."
Is it weird that I am stoked to get free product from a company that I bought product with a staple in it?

When Dylan was two he started cussing a little. He actually picked up a couple bad habits that constantly embarrassed me.


My sister in law owned a liquor store at the time and it sat right in front of our trailer. From time to time me and the kids would go over and sit in the back room to talk with whoever was working. This one time it was a friend we called Weezer.


While we were there Dylan looked at Dj and said "Go to hell!" Weezer jumped up and grabbed a soap bar and rubbed it in Dylan's mouth. He took it like a man and went about his business. After a little while he looked at Dj and said "Fuck You!" Weezer started to jump up and grab the soap bar, Dylan got a dead serious look on his face and turned to me and said "Ohhhh shit!"


At which point I completely lost it and had to leave the room.

when you walk into your house and find you are completely alone?
I normally kick back on the couch and watch my favorite shows in peace or I get to work checking for cracks in the back of my eyelids.
No real post here, just fantasizing.