Don't You Wish You Could Probe My Canal?

I'm often told by others that I'm a bit of a whack job. A bit odd. A bit quirky-dirky. So it shouldn't come as any surprise that I tend to attract insane people to me like a magnet.

Recently, I mentioned my friend Ethel, who lives across the street. Remember? She was having major surgery a couple months ago?

Well, the week prior to her surgery her and I were standing out on her driveway, flapping our gums as we're wont to do.

It was an hour or so later that Ethel IM'd me on Facebook. It went something like this:

Ethel: "Check your right ear. I thought I saw some dirt or something in the curve."

Me: "Huh? I just cleaned my ears this morning." *Sticks finger in ear and all around curves*

Me: "I don't feel anything there, Ethel. Where exactly?"

Ethel: "In the curve under the first curve."

Me: *crickets*

Ethel: "Do you want me to come over there and look for you?"

Me: "No! I do not want you looking in my ear!" (Madison, get me a q-tip!)

Ethel: "Really, I'll just come over and take a look. I've got all kinds of ear cleaning implements I could bring."

Me: *crickets* "Erm... okay?"

Now keep in mind that Ethel is an R.N. and she thrives on any kind of gore or nasty medical stuff. Her hubby, Fred, is a surgical assistant and enjoys the same.

Within minutes Ethel was standing in my kitchen with a handful of scary looking stuff, including some very potent 91% rubbing alcohol. Oh, and her 14-year-old son came along too. Armed with his camera. I should probably mention that he wants to become a doctor so is also into the disgusting medical stuff. Ugh.

So I turned my ear over to Ethel and her torture devices (gives new meaning to the saying, "lend me your ear.") while both her son and Mikayla videoed and took still shots of the humiliating procedure. And really, you know that anything humiliating, even to myself, has to be shared with all of you. Even though I hadn't done my hair that day, or put on a speck of makeup. Even though I was wearing a mens' tank top and did in fact look like a man. I'm still sharing, 'cause I'm wacky like that.

Ethel immediately spotted what she thought she'd seen earlier in my driveway... errrr... my ear, but then got totally distracted by minuscule little blackheads. They'd been there for years and Jill had mentioned them over and over again, but what was I supposed to do with them? You can't easily squeeze the inside of your damn ear! Little did I know that there's this neat little device made especially for popping those hard to reach pimples. Pooba, you may want to think about purchasing one of these for the next time you get an elbow pimple.




So Ethel went to town on me and I have to say, she was enjoying herself just a wee bit too much.

Obviously, I, was not.




Yeah, she got my left ear too. I was so sad to be experiencing all of this without Jill present that I decided to call her during the "procedure".


Do I look thrilled, or what?

Anyway, that thing Ethel thought she saw in my ear turns out to be some kind of cyst. Her and Fred say it looks like a sebaceous cyst so I'll have it checked out by my doctor the next time I see her.

Oh yeah, Fred was called to come over and look at it too! Oh, the joy!

Ethel, pointing out to Fred the bump in my ear canal. By this point my spirit was broken, I was now nothing more than a medical phenomena to be poked and prodded.

I must just endure...




Hey, at least my eyebrows looked good, right?




I'll warn you now, this next picture is of the "bump" as I'm calling it. Not the clearest picture but you can definitely see why Ethel noticed it, even if it is halfway down my friggin' ear canal.





But here's the fun part, peeps! I told you Mikayla was taking video with my camera, and I'm willing to share it with you, even though I look like a man. This should especially be appreciated by Ginger because she recently asked me if I have an accent. Growing up on Long Island, of course I do, but it's much milder than you'd hear from recent NY transplants.

Keep in mind that Mikayla's video skills suck and Strudel did not stop barking the entire time. So here you go... my final humiliation.




If this doesn't prove my love for you, nothing will.



Pssst! If you love me, you might love my stupid sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!

Eat, Drink, and Be Scary. Kind Of.

Okay it's true. I'm a total loser mom when it comes to Halloween. It's just not one of my favorite "holidays". True, it's fun to watch the kids have a blast, but all this race to get the perfect costume that will only be worn for a few hours then tossed aside... well, it just goes against the grain for me.

I've been by so many blogs lately that are showing off their Halloween kitchen confections and I'm just blown away by their creativity. And let's face it. I'm blown away by the fact that they want to do this stuff.

Of course, sometimes the best laid plans don't work out the way you've intended.

Francesca, over at Mayhem and Moxie set out to make these adorable spider cupcakes with her two adorable toddlers.




She even took the time to video her children decorating their cupcakes. The funny part was that while she was helping one kid, the other kid was eating all the decorations off her cupcake.

They turned out looking like this.




Mama Kat decided she'd get creative with cookie dough and make cookies in the shape of pumpkins, then layer with ice cream for a Halloweeny treat.

Her cookies came out of the oven looking something like this.



Okay, I'll admit, they weren't quite that bad and in the end the kids loved them so they're nothing to get your broom in a twist about.


Lolli, over at Better in Bulk got creative with a bundt cake and made it into a pumpkin.



Nice, right?

Yeah, that's not Lolli's cake. I don't have a picture of her cake because it was on video. It was super cute, but a little on the wet side. Kind of drippy and oozy.

Now Angie from Seven Clown Circus did something that's a bit more my speed. Mummy hot dogs. Uh huh, she took the time to wrap refrigerated dough around hot dogs and somehow made her kids think she was totally cool in the process.



So, I was supposed to be blogging about what I've done in the kitchen to make Halloween a spooktacular time in my house. I can't though because I haven't done a damn thing. When my parents and Jill and the girls come here tomorrow for the festivities? This is as good as it will get.


Hey, we're all about tradition here. Don't judge!



Pssst! If you love me, you might love my stupid sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!

The Bee's Needs

Today I'm once again joining in a blog "carnival" in hopes of winning an HD Flip camera. Today's carnival is hosted by Mama Kat over at Mama's Losin' It. One of the options for extra entries was to write a poem from one my children's Halloween costumes, to them. Mikayla is a bumble bee this year, so here goes nothing.

I need to make some honey
So thick and sweet and runny

But we're walking house to house
hour after hour
The people hand you candy
but I'm in need of a flower

I must collect some pollen
to make my own sweet treat
Without the taste of honey
my life won't be complete

I'm really not too picky
about the flora, little lass
But if I don't get some quickly
you'll find my stinger in your ass

Pssst! If you love me, you might love my stupid sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!

The Hobo and the Flapper

Today I'm participating in Angie's Flip camera giveaway, and she's asked us to post about Halloweens of our past.

I wish I had pictures to share because these were the best costumes ever, but all the pictures are at my parents' house, dammit.

When I was little my Mom always made my Halloween costumes and let me tell you, she had a definite knack for it. One of my favorites was a hobo costume that she made by sewing together a very old men's shirt and men's pants that she then cut to size, ripped, stained and patched. I held the requisite handkerchief on a stick, but the very best part of this costume? It was how Mom made my face look dirty by burning the end of a wine cork and smearing it all over my face. For me, that was just too fun!

My other favorite costume made by Mom was a flapper dress. I can't remember any of the details of it, just that it was red and shiny and she somehow gussied me up enough that I really did resemble a miniature flapper. I believe she even crafted one of those funky headbands they wore back in the 20s.

I think the next time I visit my parents I'm going to borrow some of their photo albums so I can start scanning and sharing. Won't that be fun?

What was your favorite Halloween costume?


Pssst! If you love me, you might love my stupid sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!

Ask, and I Shall Answer

I think I may have done this a long time ago, but if so, it's time to do it again.

I share so much of myself with all of you that I sometimes feel like there's nothing left to share. So now it's your chance to challenge me to be even more open by asking me your burning questions. If you have any burning questions, that is.


The rules are, there are no rules. Ask me anything you want, and unless I find it very offensive (which, let's face it, probably couldn't happen) I'll write up a "reveal" post (or more than one, depending on how many questions I get) to answer.

As usual, I'll be open, honest and thorough in my answers.

So take a few minutes to ponder, "What could I ask Justine that hasn't already been asked and answered? How can I personally eradicate any last vestige of mystery Justine has?"

Ask away. I'm here to serve.


Pssst! If you love me, you might love my stupid sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!

There's Retail. There's Therapy. But This Ain't Retail Therapy.

Wal*Mart. I think most of us love it and hate it at the same time, am I right?

I was there with the girls recently and when we finally returned home and I'd put my purchases away I started thinking about the things I love about Wal*Mart, and consequently, the things I hate. I guess it shouldn't have come as much of a surprise that my "pro" column was sadly lacking compared to my "con" column.

For instance, I love that Wal*Mart's prices are competitive with almost all other stores. I also love the fact that they have a huge selection of everything from car batteries to ethnic foods and everything in between. Okay, so the quality generally sucks, but if you're shopping at Wal*Mart you automatically have to expect it and not be too choosy.

I do believe that's where my pro/love column ends.

Let us go on to the con/hate column, shall we?

The people! Look, I won't lie and say that I wear my best duds to go to Wally World, or that I even put on a speck of makeup to shop. Honestly? Half the time I go without styling my hair.

But am I clean? Do my clothes match? Are they without gaping holes and greasy stains? Yes to all of the above. The same cannot be said for many of the other people who browse those hallowed aisles. Hell, some can't even claim a full set of teeth. I cannot tell you how many times I've seen women walking through the store with no bra on, nipples erect, but usually pointing south because they're old, saggy, probably-nursed-15-children kind of boobs.




And OMG, don't even get me started on people who put their almost-newborn babies down in those filthy infant seats that the store provides. Just looking at them I swear I can see the cooties jumping up and down in glee over a receiving a new host. Ewwwwwww.

Kinda like these, with that squishy vinyl crap that can absorb all kinds of grossness to be passed on to the next helpless baby.



And how about those helpful employees? Months ago I had a problem with one of my purchases. It was ringing up the wrong price. Unfriendly cashier called the relevant department for a price check and I waited. And waited. And waited some more, all the while with steam coming out of my ears. I thought I couldn't get any angrier, but oh, I did. Because this bitch turned off her light, put up the "lane closed" sign and left to take a break! With me standing on the frickin' frackin' line!!! She left me there!!! I then had to search down a manager to take care of this and by that time I was ready to slap anyone silly who got in my way. I was this close to walking out of the store with the unpaid item, and that is so not me. Dammit, it would have been justified. Well, kinda. If you're of the criminal element. And I'm not.

It's so great that they have 30 or 40 checkout lines, isn't it? But not so great that no matter how busy and crowded the store is, they only have a handful of them open. Even on a Friday night when the store is hopping. Assholes.

I hate standing on line. It's not just a time thing, but it's an anxiety thing. I feel trapped knowing that I either have to stand there as long as they make me, or bolt out of the store, having to leave all my stuff behind. I start sweating profusely, shifting from foot to foot with my heart pounding like a bass drum. So yeah, I hate the lines in Wal*Mart.




Oh my goodness. Ooh! Don't you just love those turny-carousel-bag-thingies all Wal*Marts switched to a few years back? No? Me neither! Is there anyone reading this who has not accidentally left behind a bag or two because it/they were hiding on the other side of the turny thing that the stupid cashier did not turn fully around? Bastards!




You know what? I could probably sit here all night listing all the shit I hate about Wal*Fart (not a typo) but now I'm starting to actually get pissed off that I return there time and time again when I so obviously hate it! What is it about that damn store that just keeps drawing us back into its evil web of retail deception? Is it just me? Please tell me it's not just me. Please!

Note to self: Go to Target next time.


Pssst! If you love me, you might love my sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!

On Motherhood

Angie, over at 7 Clown Circus has asked bloggers to write about what motherhood is to them. This is what I've come up with.

I never had that strong urge many young girls get, the urge that tells them they want to eventually be a mother. Sure, I used to play house with my friends, pretending I was the mom to that perfect imaginary baby.

As a young teenager I started thinking up names for my future children, the children I would have with my first boyfriend, Matt. If we had a son, he would be Reese, after a character in the movie Terminator. I never did have a son and luckily no children came of my young relationship with Matt. I do still love the name Reese though.

When Jimmy and I married, having children wasn't even on our radar. I always knew that he wanted to some day be a father, but I was still in that undecided, terrified stage. I've always been an extremely codependent person. How the hell could I nurture a child when I couldn't even nurture myself?

But it happened, and quite suddenly. One day, when we had been married for three years or so it finally popped into my head. I think I'd like to get pregnant. Not, I want to be a mom; I hadn't thought that far ahead. I was more interested in the whole experience of being pregnant.

I think it was two months later that the little stick thing turned up with a blue line. Happiness, yes. Terror? Hell yes. It finally hit me. I'm pregnant, but holy shit, there's going to be a baby when the pregnancy is done!

How am I going to do this? What if I get morning sickness? Throwing up is my worst fear in the whole world. And even if I don't get morning sickness, babies get sick! How am I going to deal with that?

I wish I could tell you that once Mikayla was born the phobia went away, or at least got better. But it didn't. In fact, it got exponentially worse. And it wasn't just the emetophobia that was affecting me, but agoraphobia and panic disorder. I never went anywhere alone with Mikayla for nearly the entire first year of her life.

Fast forward another three years or so when I had another, I want another baby moment. A month later, I was pregnant with Madison.

Now I've got two girls dependent on me, plus a host of phobias and "mental" disorders which affect my life every. single. minute. of every. single. day.

There has not been even one time that I have gotten in the car with my kids without thinking, "What if they get sick? What will I do?" I completely freak out around any kind of gastrointestinal illness. You've heard of the flight or fight response? Mine is flight, then catatonia.

All of this to tell you that motherhood, to me, is a daily challenge. Yes, it is a challenge to every mom, but for me it goes beyond the everyday trial and errors that come along with children. I live in constant fear of something that to most other people is just a normal bodily function. An unpleasant one, to be sure, but something that is not feared and obsessed over 24/7. Do my fears affect my children in a negative way? Hell yes, and I hate it that it does. I've tried my hardest to hide my ever-present terror from my girls but I've only been partially successful. Mikayla is my strong, fearless child, the one who helps shelter Madison from my weaker moments. Madison, on the other hand, is her mother's daughter and already exhibits signs of having the same "issues" as me, fear of what she terms #3 among them.

My different problems make me less of a mother than I want to be, but I still wouldn't change having my girls for all the money in the world. Because I may not be a perfect mom, or even a really good one, but I do the best I can, and hope that with enough love from me, my girls will never look back and wish they had a different kind of mother. I pray that somehow I will be able to instill in them the independence that I have never had. I will wrap them up securely in my love, my respect for them, my dreams for their futures. And if one day they become the strong, powerful, loving, independent women I wish them to be, maybe then I will be able to look back and feel pride in knowing that in some small way I helped get them there.

Sharing a silly moment with Mikayla, December 2008

My sweet princess, August, 2009

Pssst! If you love me, you might love my stupid sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!

The Smart One and the Stupid One **Edited to add a picture of Jill's frullet!!!**

Sister Jill finally got around to looking at my newly designed blog last night. In doing so she validated my reasoning for the blog name I chose. Yes, sister really can be stupid. Why this time? Because she told me that now I needed to put up a post explaining my blog header.

Erm... isn't it fairly obvious? I, being the smart, intellectual sister, sits upon the bench reading the epic poem, Beowulf. Jill, being the stupid sister is reading Spelling For Dummies. Upside-down. Yep, seems to explain itself, me thinks.

For years and years Jill and I have been mistaken for twins, hence the mirror image of the fat chick.

While I was working with my blog designer, Krystyn, I kept sending updated pictures of the header for Jill to look at. She kept telling me that the girls needed a haircut. I tried to explain to her that Krystyn is a blog designer, not a hair stylist, but Jill just wasn't getting it. So I'm going to assume that you all can use your imaginations and pretend that those fat chicks on the header have short, funky hair.

And speaking of which, Larry did his Edward Scissorhands thing on me this past Saturday. I related to him that Jill had gotten her hair cut at Great Clips and Larry went on to agree with me about Jill's heavy swag of side bangs, comparing them to the hot mess that is Kate Gosselin's hair. In fact, he made up a new word to describe Jill's bangs. She has a frullet. A front mullet. Yes indeedy.

Some have asked to see a picture of Jill's frullet, so here ya go. This picture was taken last weekend while at a party with her friend, Jen. Is it a frullet or what?


Anyhoodle, now that the new bloggy is up and running, please remember to change the addy on your blog roll to www.StupidIsAsSisterDoes.com, and then come back and grab my new, rockin' button for your sidebar!

Before I go, I'd like to thank my wonderful, beautiful friend, Blue Violet, (Yes, she has a real name, but shhh... it's a secret. Don't you wish you knew?) from A Nut in a Nutshell for recommending Krystyn of Krizzy Designs to give my blog a makeover. Not only are her prices way more affordable than most of the blog designers out there, but she was a trip to work with. I swear, I had the girl running in circles to get just my header the way I wanted it. She later told me that I'd "kept her on her toes". I'm going to assume that's a good thing.




Pssst! If you love me, you might love my stupid sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!

Strudel Doodle Doo, Where Are You?

I is here! I is here! But, I not at home. I's at the hospital for puppies and I stole the nice vet people's computer. I hopes they don't gets mad at me 'cause I already an unhappy puppy. See, I was just minding my own business, doing what I's always do while in the kitchen. I roam, I sniff around, lookin' for something good to eat.

Mommy hads all my treat bags up at the back of the counter today, lined up all pretty. I wanted a treat and no one was listening to me! So, I reached way up there, way to the back so I coulds pick a nice treat. But then there was this little bottle thing and when I moved it it made a fun rattly noise so I took that instead. I had to inspect!

Mommy was upstairs so I sneaked that bottle into my crate and gnawed and gnawed until POP! The cap came off. And all of these little white treats came out! BONUS! I scattered them around my blankies and ate some of the treats but they tasted icky! Blech! Ptooey!

My human sisters noticed that I stealed the little white treats and they started yelling at me! What did I do? I don't even like these icky things! The big sister grabbed me and threw me out on the back porch! Hey! What did I do??? Oh well, she didn't notice that the screen wasn't blocked so I jumped right through it. Freedom! Take THAT sister!

While I was out, little sister started picking up all those little white treats and she put dem in da garbage. Then she went and got my mommy upstairs. Big sister came outside and ran after me and then dragged me home!

Then all this yelling started. Mommy said the BAD word. The bad bad BAD word and ran for da phone. I hears her telling somebody that I'd eaten Simmie's (she's one of my kitty sisters) thyroid medicines. I coulda eaten one of dem or 101... Mommy didn't know. She was freaking out!

Next thing I know, big sister throws me in da car and Mommy comes running outside looking nasty. She didn't even shower but we was going for a ride? Cool!

Oh look! We's at the vet place! I loves these peoples! They give me treats! I hope they don't have those little white kinds though. Theys suck.

The lady grabbed my leash real quick and said, "Come on Strudel. Let's make you get sick." Wha? Sick? MAKE ME get sick? Dis isn't how it's supposed to work! You is supposed to keep me from gettings sick!

They stuck a needle in my hiney and boyyyyyyyyyyyy did I feels sick. The vet lady told Mommy that I had to stay heres for the night and that they would take good care of me. I heard Mommy cryin' while I was... doing my thing.

My tummy's feeling lots better now, but they stuck another needle in me and there's this water stuff going through it and I'm tired tired tired. I wanna go home and lay in my crate with my nice fuzzy blankies! I is never eating little white treats again. Never! I is sticking with my delicious bonz that Mommy and Daddy buy me every weekend. Bonz make me happy and I don't hafta get a shot in the hiney when I eat them!











I is tired now and needs to go back to my kennel before the teck lady sees me.

Strudel Out.

Pssst! If you love me, you might love my sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!

Echo echo echo...

Hello ello ello elloooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

Yep, there's a definite echo in here.

Does something stink? Besides my writing abilities, that is. Just wondering, 'cause I haven't been getting as many visits as usual and I'm just wondering if there's an offensive odor coming from the Froggy Bloggy.

Sniff sniff.

I've checked my pits and all seems fresh under there.

Note to self: Shave pits today.

I haven't seen one of these guys wandering around the blog.


Although if there had been one, I would probably adopt it and make it my blog's mascot. They're so damn cute, don't you think?

I dug around a bit in the archives to make sure there was nothing rotting away that I was unaware of.



Nope, didn't find any stinkies there either.

So what the hell is the problem, bloggers?

Here I sit, feeling left out like the fat kid on the playground. I couldn't possibly have done something so offensive as to keep scores of people away, right?

I've been visiting everyone's blogs on my blog roll, leaving comments as usual, but still... nothin'. Well, not nothing, but close enough that I'm feeling a tad depressed. A teensy bit sad. A smidge unloved. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

Where have all my commenters gone? If you read this and don't leave a comment, just know that you're adding to my depression, leaving me a big, fat, empty shell of a blogger. Without your comments, why bother writing? I could be spending this time doing something contructive, like (gasp) cleaning. Don't make me go there people. Please don't make me!



Pssst! If you love me, you might love my sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!

Achieving That Dancing With the Stars Look, Ala Larry and Sasha

Monday night Larry and Sasha were on our local ABC news channel for a spotlight on how to achieve that "Dancing With the Stars" look. If you've followed me for any length of time, you should know who Larry and Sasha are. Larry lives two doors down from me and is my hair stylist, along with his business partner, Sasha. Yes, they share me. Kinky, eh?

A little Larry blast from the past is here, where he, um... ripped me a new one. Or two.

Anyway, I, of course, forgot to watch their segment and no one reminded me. For shame people! For shame!

There is however video of their time in the spotlight, but damn ABC, they only posted a little over a minute of it. What the hell people?

Apparently, Jacksonville is having their own version of Dancing With the Stars sometime soon and Larry and Sasha will be doing the hair and makeup of the participants. Tres cool, right? They're good peeps, and I mean good at what they do.

Here's the short video.


And just for the record, Sasha has never pronounced her own name Sehsha, so I don't know where that penis of an anchorwoman got that.

Here's a short blurb from the First Coast News site:

JACKSONVILLE, FL -- Do you ever wonder how the dancers on Dancing with the Stars look so great?

There are secrets to their good looks, and First Coast News is revealing some of those throughout the week.

Larry Shumer and Sasha Cramb from Fringe Salon were in the studio, focusing on hair and makeup.

Sasha worked on Patty Crosby's hair, and Larry worked on Taren Reed's makeup.

Sasha and Larry will be making all of the local stars and dancers look wonderful for our local Dancing with the Stars on November 7th.

For the event, Fringe Salon will be transforming Patty and Michelle Jacobs, and the rest the gang.

CLICK HERE to learn more about the event.

Yeah, I'm proud of my little Larry and sweet Sasha. Now, should I hit them up for some free services? Me thinks yes.

Pssst! If you love me, you might love my sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!

Mother Nature? BITE ME!!!

Oh, the injustice of it all. The last time I glanced at the calendar, it told me that we are nearly in the middle of October. Correct me if I'm wrong, but even living in Florida, I do not think it's too much to ask for some autumn-like weather.

I know I cannot expect plummeting temperatures like so much of the rest of the country is experiencing. I know cannot expect a sudden blizzard to overtake the Sunshine State.

But are temperatures competing with the fiery pits of hell really necessary? In the almost-middle of October?

I've heard from so many that they have had to swap out their warm weather clothes for their cold weather clothes. I've heard from so many that they've had to fire up the furnace. This is not fair and I'm going to tell you why. While so many of you are cranking up the thermostat I cannot even turn OFF my air conditioning for fear that my skin will melt right off my skeleton.

This is what my forecast looks like at this very moment. Notice where the arrow is pointing.


Mother Nature is one cruel bitch, which is why I can honestly say I'd like her to kiss my big, fat, white, sweaty ass!!!




Pssst! If you love me, you might love my sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!

Friday Fragments

Well, here I am again, with permission to be as discombobulated as I please. Ah, that's the beauty of Friday Fragments!




Bitch of the Week: Jill Again!

Okay, well all know sister Jill loves me, right? Right! But there are times that I'm hard pressed to truly believe it. Especially when she says things like this:

"Justine, you really need to get a different CPAP mask. The snausages are giving you a pig snout."

Really sis, that is so rude and completely untrue! Why, my nose is just as petite and adorable as it's always been!






That same day she dropped another bitch bomb on me, this time while she was sitting in the "stylist's" (and I use that term very loosely for anyone who works at a chain hair joint) chair at Great Clips.

Now keep in mind that I had no clue we would be going anywhere that day, so aside from actually putting on a bra so as not to scare young and old alike with my pendulous bosom, I did not do my hair or makeup. I went au naturale.

So there I am, sitting at the station beside Jill, listening to her telling the "stylist" exactly what she wants done and exactly how she should go about doing it. To make her point crystal clear she pointed to me and said, "I do not want my hair to look like hers."

Squee!!!!! She did not just say that! Oh yes she did! Is it my fault that I didn't do my hair because we weren't going anywhere that day? Is it my fault that I was too impatient to wait for a cut from either Larry or Sasha, so took Kristen's advice and went to the new spa right near the house? The spa that is all uppity, with mimosas chilling in a decanter, relaxing music tinkling through invisible speakers and wanna-be Tabithas at every station?


Is it my fault that the dumb bitch who cut my hair thought I needed a little bit more here, and a bit more there and then proceeded to charge me $50 (plus tip!) to walk away looking like she hadn't cut even one hair?

Okay yeah, so all of that is my fault. But did Jill have to rudely point it out? No she did not! Oh sister dear, you are so going to hate payback when it comes!

Hmmm... Where will my melon lead us now?

Trailer Trash?

Ya know how when you go buy a live Christmas tree, the handy-dandy tree lot boys tie the tree securely to the top of your car? Well, I just noticed yesterday that there is still a big hank of orange string attached to my luggage rack. From last year. Like 10 months ago. Orange. On my car. From last Christmas.




Patheticness. (it's a word because I say so)

Wanna know what's really pathetic? Today I stopped by the library to feed my insatiable addiction to the written word. I knew I had a fine for over-due books, but when the woman told me I owed 15.30 I nearly pooped myself. What the hell? How is that even possible when I can check my account online and even renew the books if I can't make it to the library when they're due? It's not like I can claim that I'm rarely on the internet and therefore cannot check my account. I'm still sitting here puzzled over the fact that I let my .10 a day per book get me into $15 worth of debt to the damn library. And that damn library? Just changed their fines to .25 a day per book. Rut roh. I'd better bookmark the website and set up reminders for myself or I'll have to go in there with my American Express at the ready next time.

Swine Flu.

This thing is a horrendous bitch and has apparently been mutating itself. I was told that once you get it you can't get it again. Hmph. Lies! My friend Ethel's son had it last month, and guess what? He's got it again, and this time a million times worse. And as if having the pig flu isn't bad enough, he also just tested positive for mono! Egads, the poor kid.



Single Parenthood.

It sucks and it's basically been my life since the end of July. Jimmy has always had to do quite a bit of traveling in his position but these past few months have just been beyond pathetic. A huge pizza dough-making job in Tennessee that's gone wrong wrong wrong. At no fault of Jimmy or his company, mind you, but the people they hired to install the equipment. But, Jimmy is the head of the project and apparently the head honcho of the pizza dough-making plant thinks Jimmy is the only one capable of getting things done right and demands that he be present at nearly all times. So, Monday through Friday he lives in TN and on weekends he visits home. Lucky bastard doesn't have to put up with Bitchayla's tween angst but for 48 hours a week.

Destructo

I got my new cell phone this week. It's a cool Samsung Behold with a touch screen.




The charger?

Strudel ate it.



Anyone want a golden retriever?



Pssst! If you love me, you might love my sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!

Brace Yourselves!

Whew! My little Madison has had quite a few days! Last Thursday the school was administering the flu mist to any kids whose moronic, gullible, uninformed parents OK'd it being done. I tried contacting Jimmy before-hand to get his input, but as usual, he didn't answer his phone. The paperwork was due that morning, so I signed my name to it. Little did I know I was agreeing to the administration of a live flu virus to my 8-year-old!

Okay, I'm probably making this sound much more dramatic than it actually was. She was fine until Saturday. It was the day of our block party and Madison kept coming inside to tell me that her head hurt. At first I figured it was just from the heat and all the running around she was doing. Later that night her head was still hurting and she looked pale but was playing with cousin Alexa and still having a good time.

Sunday morning she woke up with a fever of 102! I immediately gave her Tylenol, then after having breakfast and a shower I went out and bought Motrin to give her as well. By the time I got home from the store her fever was almost normal. I gave her the Motrin and the fever never came back. I thought that was pretty damn weird, being that it was fairly high that morning.

I kept her home Monday with all intentions of canceling the appointment she had with the dentist to extract her super numary snaggletooth. What is a super numary you ask? It's an extra damn tooth, that's what it is. An extra tooth that was growing smack dab in the middle of her real two front teeth. Here's a picture of it that I took months ago. We referred to it as her snaggletooth because of the odd, pointy shape.

Would you believe her dentist misdiagnosed this as being a peg lateral... a tooth that was just in the wrong place? It was the orthodontist they recommended us to that said, "No! That is not a peg lateral. That is literally an extra tooth that has no business being in her mouth!"

Here's a scary shot they took at the orthodontist's office last week. I swear, she had just brushed her teeth but you'd never know it looking at this picture!

See that sideways tooth to the left of the snaggle? That's her front tooth that matches the one on the other side of the snaggle. And you'll notice to the right is a tooth that's kind of dangling there? It fell out right after this picture was taken.

Anyway, our pediatrician gave us the go-ahead to have the tooth removed since she was no longer feverish. And wow, this was an adult tooth with a big ol' root on it. She did fabulous though. The dentist told me he was very impressed with her and that she didn't complain at all. Way to go, Madison!


The very next day she had her orthodontist appointment to have braces put on. This is not usually recommended for a kid so young, but because of that huge gap she now had, plus how bad her teeth were growing in, it was now a necessity.

She was supposed to get 4 brackets on the top front teeth, but there were only 3 teeth there (one that hadn't yet grown in) and one of those teeth was not in a good position for a bracket. So, she only got two. The other two brackets will be put on in coming months.

I'm ready!



Let's prep those teeth!

Another one of those scary pictures. The blue stuff is a special cleaner that goes down into the pores of the teeth.


Then the tech put some other stuff on and had to use a blue laser light to completely harden it.



She's prepped and ready for brackets. Here comes the sweet and handsome Dr. Ossi to put those suckers on!



Once that is done, Miss Kim comes back to put in the wire and the bands that will keep the wire in place.



Because of how far apart those two front teeth are, they decided to use the colored bands to span between the two teeth for greater tension. Good idea, maybe, but it looks funny! Shhh... don't tell Madison. I let her know how funky and beautiful it makes her look!






Let me tell you, she's milking the soreness for all it's worth. I even let her stay home again today since she can't chew on anything yet. It's been yogurt, ice cream, soup and mushed-up cottage cheese for her!

Thi$ i$ only pha$e one of her treatment. $ix to 8 month$ of thi$ and then in a couple more year$ $he'll probably need full brace$.

Eh, she's worth it!




Pssst! If you love me, you might love my sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!