MichChick Chronicles

Bad Customer Service

2009-08-21T13:36:00.001-04:00

You know what I am tired of having to deal with?

Bad customer service.

Ov-er it.

I want a button or a “go to” person – just one – to call when account representatives, sales people, tech support, and customer service reps go bad.

When I contact you with a problem? You had better bet your ass you should get back with me as soon as possible. When I have a question? You had better know the answer, get back with me in a timely fashion or point me in the direction of someone who can help me.

For example….

I just recently switched insurance companies because I really was paying too much for what I currently had. This new insurance company called me on a Saturday, no less, to get all of my automobile, home owners, camper and life insurance policies all nice and straight.

I was enthralled. I mean…here I was, saving a ton of money now, getting more coverage and was using a big name company that would surely take better care of me than the last company. Right?

Not even close.

Sure…I got the savings, but the “account representative” that initially talked to me for hours and showed so much concern and caring ended up being just a sales rep. Did he come out and tell me that?

Nope.

I had questions, there were problems with underwriting, the company needed other information and then I needed to know where everything stood…..Alas, he never called me back. His emails did not have a phone number – just a fax machine number, he never returned emails, and the 800 number was a fast cesspool of nastiness.

Come to find out, that guy only SELLS insurance, he doesn’t actually manage my account. I don’t get to have an account representative like I did at my other insurance company. When I have a problem, I get to call that damn 800 number just like every other tool out there, and hope like hell the random person answering the phone gives a shit.

Look folks. I am not asking anyone to do anything other than their job. You know…the thing they get paid to do? The very thing that I pay money to [insert company here] in order to have?

With the state of this country and the unemployment rates being all that they are, you would think that some people would make damn sure that they were performing at their very best.

I know that I am….I like having a job. Getting paid and having an income makes life far more enjoyable for me. I am always aware of people that ask questions, need information, require attention or just flat out want something from me while I am at my job. I take care of those people because that is what I get paid to do and I am as far from a customer service rep as you can get.

Interacting with the other people in an acceptable manor is your job no matter what you do.

Period.

If you have a problem with that – quit and let someone else worthy of being an active member of society have your job. You don’t deserve it anyways.

MichChick

Politically speaking...

2009-08-13T14:36:00.002-04:00

Sarah Palin.

Sigh.

While I remain vastly uninterested in anything that woman decides to do with her life, I do firmly believe it best if she fades into some sort of sunset. I kept all thoughts to myself during the campaign and even after, as the sheer onslaught of media coverage was already too much and I really did not care to add to her 15 minutes.

With that said, please allow me a moment.

When the news broke that she was going to retire, my first thought was that some scandal was forcing her out. Her need to be in the spotlight was almost as embarrassing as her complete inability to free style speeches. Therefore, I was quite surprised that she would give up such a platform voluntarily – but quite fine with the thought of never having to listen to her trip over her own tongue again.

All hell broke loose in Fox News land and the staunch GOP’s were freaking out – crying over who would lead them into the next presidency. Speculation was at an all time high and again Ms. Palin was being squawked about repetitiously. And just before the dust finally settled on her political coffin, she gave a rousing “good-bye” speech that made most of us ask “what the hell just happened?”

Alas, she is back in the news again for spouting off on her Facebook page - yet again on a subject she should have done her homework on first. My first problem is her chosen method of delivery. She isn’t Lindsey Lohan or Ashton Kutcher for Christ’s sake – so to publicly slam the president from the comfort of her Facebook page is laughable at best.

You can bet your ass that the AP and Fox News are all over it, thus the rant I am on now.

The good old GOP needs to acknowledge that it was a bad choice. Hell, even McCain knew it was, and we knew that too. To continue to act as though they “meant” it and that she should ever be taken seriously is an embarrassment for the county as a whole. I am sure, that for some people – she spoke the tune they have been waiting to dance to. But for a progressive country at large, filled with women who vote and speak in fully formed sentences – not so much.

I am not making negative statements against her as a person, mother, sister, wife or head of the PTA. But, I am stating that politically speaking, she was - The.Wrong.Choice. To allow one more damn segment of news ANYTHING to cover whatever mumbling crap is falling out of her mouth currently, is a shame.

GOP folk should be apologetic and promise that they have put her away some place safe where she cannot get to John Q. Public again.

Her and Dick Cheney.

MichChick

Parenting blows...

2009-08-07T14:15:00.004-04:00

I have a few friends that are at different stages in their lives and for various reasons, childless. I have one in paticular that fights an inner battle with herself as though having children is what classifies people as having worth. I call "bullshit" on that theroy.

First and foremost, I am 38 years old. The mere thought of just starting to have children now is hair raising and a theme of many unsettling nightmares I have.

Really.

When I hit the ripe old age of 44 my little beautiful children will ALL BE OUT of the coop….or at least legal to kick out… Either way, my parenting time in the sun is complete.

I think there is some insane bullshit pressure that we put on ourselves about having kids. Like it is the frosting on our life cake or something. People that you don’t know very well will have huge amounts of audacity when it comes to busting your balls about not having them…..like somehow you are a freak or missing out on something.

Here is the thing…..those people have kids - after all, misery loves company.

Having children is rewarding and yes, you do love them a lot - but I am not sure that it is the essence to life or necessary to feel fulfilled. There are tons of things in my life I will never get the pleasure of doing that could come close. That doesn’t make ME a freak. That bullshit only comes from not having kids.

The big, fat, nasty little joke that no one ever talks about? Having kids sucks ass most of the time.

No....It really, really does.

Yes…I get to have sacred love (but, it is conditional….any parent telling you different is lying thru their teeth), and I get to have pride and joy. One of those is a sin.

So what does that leave? I get to have deep seeded love and joy? Ok….well…that’s it.

The cost of that deep seeded love is: strife, depression, anger, resentment, hurt feelings, distrust, worry (like you have never experienced before), shock, horror, disappointment, bitterness and failure. You get ALL of that more than you do anything else and that is if they are normal functioning children. Throw in a dash of screw up and you have a whole other ballpark.

I love my dog Ripley almost as much. I do not love my other dog like that, but I sure do love Ripley. So….it is possible to get close to it with other things.

I know, I know….I make is sound horrid…..well, it is. It is hard and thankless and at the end of it all, they leave your house and forget you ever put yourself through all of it anyways.

"Shame on you MichChick! Being a parent is beautiful and fullfilling and what life is meant to be!"

Wrong.

That is your idea of what your life should be either because you have chosen that path or because you think you should. That does not negate the wonderful life that any individual could or does have sans any offspring.

Each individual has the right to choose thier life path. With or without children. All I am merely pointing out is the hidden truth that no one ever seems to want to talk about.

Look, being a parent...no wait...scratch THAT. Being a good parent is hard ass work. Really hard. Being great is subjective and I have no idea what goes into that, so I will not even try.

For those of you whom have chosen to forgo the childbearing part of life? Enjoy sleeping in on Saturday. Don't let anybody make you feel guilty about it either.

MichChick

Lessons in Dirt

2009-04-30T13:13:00.001-04:00

Some would say that I have lost my mind……I’m ok with that. I know where I put it.

A while back, I had written about how the Mister and I have purchased a plot of land with big intentions, not a lot of knowledge but the love and desire to be free and self-sufficient.

That dream still stands.

Because I do not believe in making empty promises to myself, we have taken some really big steps in the direction of and the education required, to move forward in our dream life.

I now have a vegetable garden. Not some piddly little splat of dirt - but a big girl garden, complete with three raised deep beds measuring 3 foot by 16 foot each. In case you need it, that is 144 sq ft of planting surface that took the Mister and me three solid weeks of digging and turning the earth to get done.

Walking upright was a challenge during that little bit of fun, by the way.

We have built a dual compost tumbler, an herb rack / garden and two cold frames to act as a plant nursery and hardener. We have rain barrels out there collecting every drop we can get and now my plants are all fed a strict diet of earth water only.

I have composting worms. Yeah…I just typed that. W-O-R-M-S.

They are working worms, if you can believe such a thing – and do a fantastic job of turning rotting lettuce, rabbit manure and cardboard into rich, beautiful, black dirt. Thus, recycling and reducing our household footprint has taken on a life of its own.

I now make my own breads, ice cream, butter and buttermilk. I knit, grind my own flour and will build a weaving loom soon for cloth.

Crazy.

The Internet and all of its splendor has been my saving grace.

Yes, I do read a ton of books, magazines and instruction manuals – but nothing compares to the sheer “how to” of the Internet. It has been my classroom and without it, I would still be fumbling around with seeds and a shovel. If you need any ideas on where to go to get information, shoot me an email – I am happy to help.

We still have mountains of things to learn, difficult roads to cross and trust me, not everything works out the first one or two times out of the gate.

For every one vegetable seed that took off this year, I had two refuse to germinate. My family (bless their hearts) have endured some really bad batches of ice cream, rock hard breads, overly dehydrated everything, ideas that never come to pass, insane demands and some pretty hard physical labor.

Our first cold frame broke due to hinges that were too small and one of the panes of glass shattered when I forgot to prop it open and it slammed shut. High winds broke all of my baby plants off at the ground level and dogs refuse to stay out of gardens.

This is nothing compared to a real farm.

With all of that said, the payoffs are many and the sense of doing instead of watching, is HUGE. I love every single second of it, good and bad. I feel alive and at peace when I am working with my hands and enjoy having to figure stuff out.

This to me folks – is living.

MichChick

Bumper Sticker Madness.....

2009-03-06T11:38:00.025-05:00

I wish I had enough car for all of these.

MichChick

Random Rantings....

2009-03-05T08:46:00.005-05:00

Facial Hair, Hand Washing and Sex

I plucked a gray hair from my eyebrow last week. Gray facial hair and a pimple should never reside on the same face.

Ever.

In the ladies' room yesterday, a woman finishing up her visit proceeded to turn on the sink water long enough to get her hands wet and then was done.

Pardon me miss, but I believe that effective hand washing involves soap, friction, and time spent with both. I promise you that your mother is not waiting outside the door to inspect your hands for wetness to ensure proper hygiene. I would also like to bash you for your flagrant misuse of paper towels to dry your germ-laden paws. Go fake it at home with a cloth towel and stop chipping away at the environment because you think you are fooling anybody.

If I had known in my early years that I was having the most sex I was ever GOING to have, I would have enjoyed it more and spent less time faking it.

Money, Crime and Politics

Why is no one telling the banking jackasses that they reneged on the deal, so “screw you Jack – time to give it back.”

Are we too busy over-busting GM’s balls to get around to it?

Seriously.

You wanna start the process of digging ourselves out of our money mess? Stop talking about it. Leave it sit and watch what happens. People, God bless them, are inherently materialistic and are just waiting for the time when we can relax and buy a Snickers bar. Shut up about it already.

If I turn on CNN and have to see them STILL covering the little Caley Anthony murder issue, I am gonna scream.

The mother did it. There. Case solved.

Move on.

Mike Huckabee now has his own talk show thing on Fox News. Look…set aside that the man does not believe in some pretty basic human stuff – like the age of the planet – but the man has a lisp – and a BAD one. If no one could take him seriously as a potential presidential candidate, there is no way I can sit around and listen to him chomp philosophical while sounding like Sylvester the Cat.

I'm just sayin'.

MichChick

Good News for a CHANGE...

2009-02-19T08:45:00.003-05:00

(article excerpt from MSN.com "Jubak's Journal")

In economic winter, signs of spring

The US will emerge from the financial crisis, and one day new jobs will outnumber layoffs. There are fragile, slender shoots of new life in the economy already.

[Related content: stocks, alternative energy, Jim Jubak, economy, recession]
By Jim Jubak
MSN Money

Six months ago the question was: "When will this financial and economic crisis be over?"

Today, increasingly, the questions are: "Why should this ever be over?" "What's ever going to turn this around?"

Right now, with unemployment rising, it's hard to remember that capitalism is a creator of jobs, companies and industries -- as well as a destroyer.

But I see signs of the growth to come. I see a few fragile shoots of the new economy that will replace some, at least, and maybe all of the jobs lost in this recession. Just like a crocus poking up through the snow is a sign of the spring to come, these examples of growth promise that this recession will someday give way to a time of new investment and new jobs.

******

Jim Jubak? If you are out there.....I would like to personally thank you for being a champ. It takes big balls to stand out in a crowd of media folk that scream nothing but doom and gloom and chirp your thoughts of optimism.

I could kiss you.......it's ok...the Mister won't mind.

Jim's complete article (I challenge you to read it)can be found here.

MichChick

Stay tuned....

2009-02-18T11:24:00.003-05:00

The Mister and I have purchased 10 acres of land with the intent of becoming self-sufficient (this will raise a hardy grumble from my husband) and eventually building an eco-responsible log home (with our bare hands!).

Our little piece of heaven resides right around the corner from Duck Lake (Springport area), is not suffocating from urban sprawl, and is just far enough away from the neighbors to suit my tastes but close enough so that the Mister doesn’t feel lost.

Our plan is to build up the land slowly – plant tress (fruit, Maple and pine), shrubs, wild flowers and maybe a few “green manure” plots to turn over into the soil and attract wildlife. Gradually adding out buildings, sheds, pole barns, green houses, a cottage, and eventually a permanent homestead.

We will have to move slowly due to school age children in the home, and ex-wifey’s refusal to allow the red heads to move school districts.

Fine.

I like taking it slow anyways…so there.

Anyhoo…

I will need to begin the process of learning to garden, canning and dehydrating my own foods. Knit, grind grain and make cheese. Additionally, I plan on having bees and chickens, so this aught to be quite the process.

For now? I have begun to fumble my way through knitting, ordered vegtables for the raised beds at my current home, bought a dehydrator on ebay and have trees on delivery set up for spring.

Oh! And books….lots, and lots of reading has taken place and much more is warranted.

MichChick is going country folks.

Tell me something good....

2008-11-14T11:24:00.002-05:00

I am so completely over all of the negative messages that ambush me on a daily basis, that I challenge anyone these days to just “tell me something good”.

Anything.

I would be happy to hear about a wedding, a birth, a promotion, a new job, a new house, a new love, or an old one that you still find sexy as hell. Bring it.

At a loss?

Yep…….so is the rest of the world apparently.

Since when did we become our own worst nightmare? When did we become the group of people that no one wants to hang out with because of the “downer” effect?

We have slowly but steadily allowed the media, pot-shot economists and politicians to siphon every last thought of hope and peace, clean out of our systems. They use words like “recession” and “downturn” and string them together with “economy” and the ripple effect leaves people in a panic.

It is this blatant abuse of words - coupled with the few drama seeking, spotlight whores - that help diminish all thoughts and feelings of peace and stability. We are so busy creating a huge, horrible, self-fulfilling prophecy these days, that we have forgotten how to laugh, love and have fun.

Don’t believe me?

Did you lose weight? Find a fabulous new hair stylist? Try a great new dish? Stumble across the greatest two-for-one sale EVER? Finally get rid of that rash?

If you did, I surly did not hear about it. One (or both) of us, has been too consumed with worry, to remember that the small pleasures in life make up the big picture.

I am not going to propose anything cheesy or unrealistic – like an all out news boycott or suggest that you should somehow plant your head firmly in the ground to avoid anything negative in response. No….none of that.

What I do ask is that you remember that not everything you hear is truth and not all truth is permanent and unchanging. Think about what you are hearing and attempt to sway the knee jerk reaction that gets us into trouble.

For example…….

If you live here in Michigan, the story that I am going to tell should embarrass you because you partook in this event or shake your head because you remember and chose not to.

Roughly a month or so ago, someone (and I mean that literally) started a rumor. And in that rumor, were the contents of the abuse of words that I mentioned above and it went something like this – “gas prices are going to go up to $5 or $6 dollars a gallon.”

Yes….it was THAT simple.

Yet, within that simplicity – wide spread panic ensued as one someone called yet another someone and spread that rumor faster than a grease fire.

Within an hour, roads were backed up and traffic slowed to a crawl as people rushed to gas stations to ensure their ability to fill their tanks before such an atrocity could hit. People waited in their cars - burning huge amounts of gas - waiting to be next, in lines half-mile long.

This went on for hours and increased in fever as the rumor spread. It was on the news, in the paper and it was all anyone could talk about. It had produced a storm.

In the end, when the hysteria had finally died back down, gas prices did indeed increase due to the demand of panic, but only marginally. What had started as a rumor eventually died as a rumor, but it took a large segment of the population willing to believe in it, with it.

I am not insinuating that our current economy is a rumor started errantly by some jackass with nothing better to do – but I AM stating that the effects would be less if it were not given so much clout. Yes…..things have slowed down.

They should have and they realistically, need to.

But - where we are now is a creature of our own doing as people react to what they hear and it all goes round and round.

I want off the ride.

So…..tell me something good. Anything…..start talking about something else and spread THAT.

I’m listening.

MichChick

Books and letters

2008-07-28T13:25:00.004-04:00

Remarkably, I got an email back from one of those poor folk down at the City Council and it was even a well thought out, specifically addressed to ME, kinda email.

Color me shocked.

The article that I had read that had lead to my hissy fit was poorly written, misinformed and basically made myself and its readers that lead this whole nasty little campaign to the Council, look stupid.

Ggggggrrrr.

I would love to swing the finger over at the local newspaper here and scream that it was all their fault, pick the lint from my shoulders, and move on.

Shame on me.

I should have done my homework before calling someone in the public eye out onto the carpet.

With all of that said, I would probably do it again.

Check that…..I WILL do it again, I just know it.

******************

I am reading a new book series that I absolutely LOVE. I fell in love with the characters and the make up of their lives right away and got sucked in over my head.

Please keep in mind that I have been feverantly attempting to study for my [read: sucky] math final but my mind continues to wander back to the story line. I will sneak minutes in here and there just to get a glimpse and look forward to when I can put my pencil down and pick up my book.

By industry standards, she is a relatively new author by the name of Vicki Pettersson and the series is titled the “Zodiac” series. With only three books under her belt, she reads like a seasoned author but with none of the markings of someone who has run her character up a wall and has nowhere left to go. She is fresh, current and her storylines suck you in quickly. Usually, I have to fight my way through the first few chapters of any new book and have to forcibly drag myself into understanding what the author wants me to see.

This means either I am a complete tard or this author is just THAT good. I love, love her writing style.

Oh….and in case it matters - as it does to me…..I can always tell that they really ARE good books when the Mister likes them a lot too - and these definitely has his stamp of approval.

Maybe I should write her a letter…..:)

TTFN

MichChick

American

2008-07-22T12:01:00.001-04:00

Inspired American

I wrote my first official letter/email to a member of my city’s government today. Usually, I read news articles, hear news stories, and see things that infuriate me but generally feel powerless to do anything about it….so I do not do anything at all. Common really.

Sad but true.

What spurred such a tirade – such a break in character, you ask?

Some bonehead councilmember in this fine city is trying to ban the use of mopeds (“motorcycle light” is what I would call them) within the city. I will not get into all of the environmental issues or cost efficiencies associated with this viable means of transportation, as this is not the point today.

Without ranting here all over again, it was enough to anger me into action – so I carefully constructed an email that would not make me sound like a lunatic, refrained from using terms like, “big, fat jerk”, spellchecked it three times and then sent it to every - single - city council member available in this fine city.

I do not expect to get anything more than a cookie cutter version of “thank you, we care…honestly, we do – vote for me” crap that auto-responds to emails….but it felt good. It felt very good.

I am pretty sure that I just earned another badge to go on my Big Girl jacket and I feel quite American right about now. I mean….isn’t that really the whole point of being a member of the good ol’ US of A?

Uninspired American

We get phone calls at work from solicitors, sales people, crazy people, pranks and wrong numbers – more so than most.

I have gone through all of the processes: registering all of our numbers on the DNC registry, requested both live and in writing to have us removed from any/all lists currently being sold better than stock and read each piece of correspondence carefully to make sure our numbers cannot be further bought and sold for further aggravation.

I even have an extreme amount of patience for these people when they do call. I understand the need to have a job and hey, if you are working hard to pay your bills and support your family - I fully support you in your efforts to do so.

Until that last one.

Ok…..first and foremost….if anyone besides my family is reading this – please…..PLEASE….do your best to hire people that speak the language well enough to annunciate each word clearly and know the meaning of each word as it is being spoken.

I am not about go to on the “all foreigners go home” spew that makes me queasy, but I am insistent upon proper speech. If you are a company - an American company - looking to sell goods to me…..a citizen of this fine country - please hire people that can do so and be understood at the same time.

To me….this just makes sense.

Call me whacky here, but the cost savings that those companies want to associate with hiring the good fine folk from overseas must get lost on the back end of trying to sell to a group of people whom have had it up to their eyeballs with the sheer lack of communication and the frustration associated with it.

Even this alone would not cause me to become flippant, nasty, or even ill tempered with someone. Queen Bee raised me better than that….promise.

What made this last one so bad was after I had politely suggested that they stop calling because we were simply not interested - he started to argue with me.

Not just argue - he started to get personal, raise his voice, and loose all semblance of professionalism over my rejection. At first, this was quite comical due to his lack of ability to form complete sentences and really tell me off proper, but after a minute or so,……it just became flat out rude.

Look. I do not HAVE to put you through to anybody. I do not HAVE to listen to your pitch. I do not HAVE to tolerate your company calling this office five times a week….yes….I am serious….five times a week. If we were remotely interested in switching phone services, we have the internet and a big old-fashioned phone book that houses all of the contact info and/or sales information that we need to initiate that conversation.

Then the capper….he told me I was being rude by telling him “no” and asked me if my “mudder had not raised me better”.

Click.

He called back to yell at me some more.

Sigh.

I tried mom….I did. But he started it.

MichChick

"It's Alive!!!!!"......

2008-07-21T15:17:00.003-04:00

I am not dead, I have not moved and no…I have not been abducted by aliens (damn it). I am sure I could natter on endlessly about all of the absolutely dreadful things that have been occupying my time and maybe even invoke some level of sympathy…..but I will not do that you.

We here at the Clan of Nut jobs have made it though the school year (and semesters, as far as my academic career is concerned), layoffs, visits to and from bio-dad’s house and the peace and quiet that comes from not having four hellions in your household tearing the place apart.

I just went and picked up the chicks on Saturday from (again) the new Metro terminal. Aside from being way sick of having to play nice with bio-dad and his new little wife, I am way happy to have the chicks home and in my court.

I have a newly reinforced hatred for mathematics, as two solid semesters of college math will do to any normal person. I still do not see the use nor do I understand those who do. Give me a calculator and I can make your head spin. Ask me to remember the rules and we are both screwed.

A few of us way overgrown kids went to Michigan’s Adventure Park again this year. That place never grows old. And with exception to missing children this time around, the required ten trips to the chiropractor afterwards is always worth it.

P and I went camping at a nifty little campground in Pewamo, (yes…I just typed Pewamo). Maple River was an accidental find and a pleasure to go to if you keep a few things in mind.

First…no showers.

I am not kidding. Not even the silly ones where you have to put in a quarter for 5 minutes of skin scalding stinky water…none, nada…no how.

Secondly….no flushing toilets. They lovingly refer to them as “privies” but.....if it smells like an outhouse and looks like an outhouse….it is an outhouse. Now…in all fairness, if you could possibly make an outhouse nice, they have made the attempt. Nevertheless, if you cannot bare the thought or the smell, this place is just not for you.

With that said, if breathtaking nature in its finest form is your way of waking up…well then…..have at it. Our campsites were right on the river bank…..right on the bank. You never had to leave your campsite to fish and bask in the ambiance of Mother Earth and all of her finery.

“Oh, but MichChick! The mosquitoes had to have eaten you alive!”

Believe it or not……not once. Maple River campground does a fantastic job of spraying nightly for those little winged bastards and they never, ever became an issue. Swear.

It is a nice, quiet and friendly place to spend some down time if you get the change to get any. Not necessarily where I would pack the little kiddies off for a weekend of fun and entertainment, but definitely some good grown-up time can be had here.

Just remember to pack the wet wipes.

Until we meet again!

MichChick

Thursday funnies...Volume II.

2008-01-31T13:12:00.001-05:00

I think it was the "screw you" comment.

If you have to ask.....

Um....No thanks....I'm not hungry anymore.

Le gross.

May I see a runch menu?

Must be crabgrass.

Oh...I'm sorry....was I smiling?

Oh my God.

Preceeded by Gargantuan Gas.

The building could at least say "please".

See? They said "please".

Tarzan not understand.

Oh thank God! I was starting to worry.

Finally.....truth in advertising.

------------------------------------------------

MichChick

Woman's Week At The Gym

2008-01-29T10:40:00.000-05:00

Dear Diary,

For my birthday this year, my daughter (the dear) purchased a week of personal training at the local health club for me.

Although I am still in great shape since being a high school cheerleader 43 years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try.

I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Brad, who identified himself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear.

My daughter seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

MONDAY:

Started my day at 6:00 a.m. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Brad waiting for me. He is something of a Greek god - with blond hair, dancing eyes and a dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!! Brad gave me a tour and showed me the machines. I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which he conducted his aerobics class after my workout today. Very inspiring!

Brad was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time he was around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week-!!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

TUESDAY:

I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door.

Brad made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air then he put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile.

Brad's rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT-!! It's a whole new life for me.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

WEDNESDAY:

The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia in both pectorals.

Driving was OK as long as I didn't try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in the club parking lot.

Brad was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club members. His voice is a little too perky for early in the morning and when he scolds, he gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying.

My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Brad put me on the stair monster. Why the hell would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Brad told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. He said some other bullsh*t too.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

THURSDAY :

Brad was waiting for me with his vampire-like teeth exposed as his thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn't help being a half an hour late, it took me that long to tie my shoes.

Brad took me to work out with dumbbells. When he was not looking, I ran and hid in the restroom. He sent some skinny bitch to find me. Then, as punishment, he put me on the rowing machine -- which I sank.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

FRIDAY :

I hate that Brad more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world.

Stupid, skinny, anemic, anorexic little !#&!

If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat him with it. Brad wanted me to work on my triceps. I don't have any triceps!

And if you don't want dents in the floor, don't hand me the damn barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich. The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition teacher. Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

SATURDAY :

Brad left a message on my answering machine in his grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing him made me want to smash the machine with my planner.

However, I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight hours of the Weather Channel.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

SUNDAY :

I'm having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank GOD that this week is over.

I will also pray that next year my daughter (the little sh*t) will choose a gift for me that is fun -- like a root canal or a hysterectomy.

I still say if God had wanted me to bend over, he would have sprinkled the floor with diamonds!!!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------
(Submitted via email - thank you!)

MichChick

Philosophy Class 101

2008-01-28T13:09:00.000-05:00

I suffer from malcontentment (it's a word....now).

Actually, I think most of my family, Mister included, does as well. It is a sucky form of never being content with anything for very long. Problematic of being an intelligent species I suppose, but there you have it.

This does not mean that I take things for granted, am spoiled (zip it Mister) or am a miserable human being....it just means that I always have a nagging feeling that I should be doing something else or that I am missing something that I should be understanding.

No....this does not make me certifiable. At least not today, it doesn't.

So...in light of this...I ask the following question:

If you could be ignorant and happy or incredibly smart and miserable (for life), which would you choose if you could? Additionally, does this mean that one always has something to do with the other?

Think of it this way.......

Some of the happiest, nicest and non-judgemental people I know are "mentally challenged" and some of the crabbiest bastards I know are smart as hell.

Go figure.

MichChick

Olan Mills Flashback Session

2008-01-25T13:07:00.001-05:00

I got a $20 that says he drives a Camaro.

Those glasses came free with a purchase of Brut cologne.

Thoughtful Lance. Mirthful Lance. Two sides of a delightful coin.

Drake won Bitchin'est Senior Mullet by a landslide.

That dude wore a tie for nothing.

The Purvis family made several stops along the Oregon Trail to document their six-month journey. This photo was taken just two weeks before the dysentery took Momma to Jesus.

It's called a leisure suit, ladies and germs, and if you didn't have one in the early 70s, you were a big fat loser. His was teal. He wore it with a silk floral shirt and a long necklace with a football player pendant that we all got at that year's team banquet. He was THE MAN.

No Comment.

Olan Mills backdrop #4: Bucolic Meadow with Split Rail Fence. Is that an animal carcass behind her?

A pose like this will get you kicked right out of the Convention.

Oh, this is super. What better way to capture the charm and innocence of a child than to plunk him down amid the coarse trappings of a life lived in pursuit of wealth -- oversized bills, an adding machine and the Wall Street Journal -- and make him sit inside a briefcase? (They probably just fold up the little demon right in there to carry him home.) The finishing touch is the globe, which completes the portrait of the young Antichrist in Chess King vest and Red Goose loafers, plotting his takeover of the world (insert maniacal laugh). That is, as soon as someone changes his poopy diaper.

Bobbi isn't the first waitress to fall for her manager, but she and Dale both got fired from Shoney's.

Rejected Toby Keith album cover.

Just a typical afternoon down on the plantation. In a business suit. Leaning against a fence, waiting for the boys to come home from war.

Dawn and her recently exhumed sister, Gorgotha, pose with Scraps.

This photo isn't discolored. The 70's really were that Orange.

I'm serious. Then seriously bi-polar.

Olan Mills Backdrop #11: The Library, one of their most popular themes, as seen in this photo of the young Unabomber and his wife.

The Library might be more believable if the shelves weren't sloping downhill. Did she get knocked up in the library too?

Olan Mills is all about versatility. The simple addition of a column turns this generic plantation into Tara , where, apparently, someone opened a Hair Cuttery.

You'd think Pearle Vision would throw in another two pairs for free.

Kenneth and his prom date.

Why?

Someone spent money on this.

It's so cute when couples have matching hairdos.

What the ????

Nothing says 1973 quite like denim and helmet hair.

I'd hide my face, too, little girl.

B-52's, the early years.

Have a good weekend!

MichChick

Thursday funnies...

2008-01-24T13:50:00.001-05:00

Yeah....you won't be so tough after the Mrs. sees this.

Traumatized for life by a Jackass.

Someone must really love his new step-mommy.

I think it's time to thow out the underpants.

Every single, possible, pro-sunscreen campaign could be summed up by this picture. Blah.

You can take 'em them out of the trailer park, but.....

Ouch.

Notice that this little girl looks more like Chris Farely than Mommy?

I wonder what the driver looked like?

They did stop him from chewing on himself, however......

You suppose this is her first roller coaster ride?

MichChick

Random Tuesday

2008-01-22T11:02:00.000-05:00

Why is the medical profession, highly educated individuals that they are, telling me that I cannot drink coffee….EVER….but should instead, enjoy a nice glass of wine or a frothy beer….uh….DAILY.

It is entirely possible to lick your elbow, no matter what anyone says. I have seen both of my redheads do it.

A vacuum cleaner should never, ever….no…stop it….cost over $100.00.

Dick Cheney is creepy and scary. No vice-president should EVER be a bigger threat than the head Chief.

I need a wife. Seriously.

Money does NOT equate love. Never will.

But it sure can make for great sex…...................admit it.

Eventually, time will become more important in your life than money OR sex…you can admit that too. I’ll wait.

Why is it that if I am late for a doctor's appointment or cancel without a year’s notice that I will loose my appointment all together and get charged anyways?

Hold on a second.

I get calls from the doctor's office all the time rescheduling appointments for this and that. Sometimes, without very much notice at all. Does this mean that I have a credit on my account and my next visit is free? If we apply the same logic, why would this NOT be true?

A Bavarian wax is a mild form of S&M. Not even my gynecologist is worth THAT much hair removal.

With that said, I think it would be a blast to be the person doing them.

Algebra is unnecessary. Sorry.

I was standing behind a man in line at Victoria’s Secret during the mad holiday rush, when he began a weird conversation about the items he was purchasing for his wife. In his arms were various undergarments and every single piece had nothing but lace…even in the sensitive area. Much to my daughter’s horror, I promptly explained to him he might as well go to the hardware store and fashion her unmentionables out of sand paper and glass, as it would be cheaper and probably more comfortable.

He thought I was trying to be funny. *Sigh*….never mind….I tried.

Men….YOU….a hammer and nails? Sexy.

Until tomorrow….

MichChick

Retirement

2008-01-17T12:06:00.000-05:00

I have been forcefully shoved, yanked, complained and pulled out of my writing retirement by those around me who apparently want to hear my insanity put in writing.

Fine.

I would like to start of my return with an excerpt that the Queen Bee sent over this morning from Lee Iaccoca's new book. While I have lived a lot of years under certain impressions of this man, none of them good, I feel that he is very eloquent in expressing some frustrations that I am sure.....we all share.

Take care ya' all.....

MichChick

**********************************

Remember Lee Iaccoca? The man who rescued Chrysler Corporation from it's death throes?

He has a new book, and here are some excerpts.

Lee Iaccoca Says:

'Am I the only guy in this country who's fed up with what’s happening? Where the hell is our outrage? We should be screaming bloody murder.

We've got a gang of clueless bozos steering our ship of state right over a cliff, we've got corporate gangsters stealing us blind, and we can't even clean up after a hurricane much less build a hybrid car.

But instead of getting mad, everyone sits around and nods their heads when the politicians say, ‘Stay the course'.

Stay the course?

You've got to be kidding. This is America, not the damned ‘Titanic’. I'll give you a sound bite: 'Throw all the bums out!' You might think I'm getting senile, that I've gone off my rocker, and maybe I have. But someone has to speak up. I hardly recognize this country anymore.The most famous business leaders are not the innovators but the guys in handcuffs.

While we're fiddling in Iraq, the Middle East is burning and nobody seems to know what to do. And the press is waving 'pom! -poms' instead of asking hard questions.

That's not the promise of the 'America ' my parents and yours traveled across the ocean for. I've had enough. How about you? I'll go a step further. You can't call yourself a patriot if you're not outraged. This is a fight I'm ready and willing to have.

The Biggest 'C' is Crisis!

Leaders are made, not born. Leadership is forged in times of crisis. It's easy to sit there with your feet up on the desk and talk theory. Or send someone else's kids off to war when you've never seen a battlefield yourself. It's another thing to lead when your world comes tumbling down. On September 11, 2001, we needed a strong leader more than any other time in our history. We needed a steady hand to guide us out of the ashes.

A Hell of a Mess

So here's where we stand. We're immersed in a bloody war with no plan for winning and no plan for leaving. We're running the biggest deficit in the history of the country. We're losing the manufacturing edge to Asia, while our once- great companies are getting slaughtered by health care costs.

Gas prices are skyrocketing, and nobody in power has a coherent energy policy.Our schools are in trouble. Our borders are like sieves. The middle class is being squeezed every which way. These are times that cry out for leadership.But when you look around, you've got to ask: 'Where have all the leaders gone?'

Where are the curious, creative communicators? Where are the people of character, courage, conviction, omnipotence, and common sense? I may be a sucker for alliteration, but I think you get the point.

Name me a leader who has a better idea for homeland security than making us take off our shoes in airports and throw away our shampoo? We've spent billions of dollars building a huge new bureaucracy, and all we know how to do is react to things that have already happened.Name me one leader who emerged from the crisis of Hurricane Katrina.

Congress has yet to spend a single day evaluating the response to the hurricane, or demanding accountability for the decisions that were made in the crucial hours after the storm. Everyone's hunkering down, fingers crossed, hoping it doesn't happen again. Now, that's just crazy. Storms happen. Deal with it. Make a plan. Figure out what you're going to do the next time.

Name me an industry leader who is thinking creatively about how we can restore our competitive edge in manufacturing. Who would have believed that there could ever be a time when 'The Big Three' referred to Japanese car companies? How did this happen, and more important, what are we going to do about it?

Name me a government leader who can articulate a plan for paying down the debit, or solving the energy crisis, or managing the health care problem. The silence is deafening. But these are the crises that are eating away at our country and milking the middle class dry. I have news for the gang in Congress.

We didn't elect you to sit on your asses and do nothing and remain silent while our democracy is being hijacked and our greatness is being replaced with mediocrity. What is everybody so afraid of? That some bonehead on Fox News will call them a name?

Give me a break.

Why don't you guys show some spine for a change?

Had Enough?

Hey, I'm not trying to be the voice of gloom and doom here. I'm trying to light a fire. I'm speaking out because I have hope I believe in America.

In my lifetime, I've had the privilege of living through some of America's greatest moments. I've also experienced some of our worst crises: the 'Great Depression', 'World War II', the 'Korean War', the 'Kennedy Assassination', the 'Vietnam War', the 1970s oil crisis, and the struggles of recent years culminating with 9/11.

If I've learned one thing, it's this: 'you don't get anywhere by standing on the sidelines waiting for somebody else to take action. Whether it's building a better car or building a better future for our children, we all have a role to play.

That's the challenge I'm raising in this book. It's a call to 'Action' for people who, like me, believe in America. It's not too late, but it's getting pretty close. So let's shake off the crap and go to work.

Let's tell 'em all we've had 'enough.' Excerpted from 'Where Have All the Leaders Gone?'. Copyright (c) 2007 by Lee Iaccoca. All rights reserved.

Gggggrrrrrrrrr............

2007-11-14T11:50:00.000-05:00

This absolutely frustrates me beyond rationale thought......even more so because there is NOTHING that I can do about it.

Sorry....politics and all.

http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/politics/la-na-budget14nov14,1,2302150.story?coll=la-news-politics-national&track=crosspromo

I will return you to your normal fuzz.

MichChick

A little remodel

2007-11-12T11:37:00.000-05:00

The Mister and I have embarked on a long overdue remodeling of our money-pit we lovingly call “home”.

I inherited this little beauty two years ago when I said, “I do” with the Mister and have been in denial ever since. I love my husband like crazy and within him, I have much pride….but his color choices, decorating style, and general home upkeep equate that of a college frat house.

I don’t know….maybe I thought that if I wished magic home repairing elves into existence, that one day I could wake up to a nicely refurbished home with little thought or effort on my part. Those little bastards never materialized.

Maybe….just maybe…I believe that men are born with some kind of genetic code that drives them to home repair and that the Mister would spring from bed one Saturday morning with his tool belt already in place and “wow” my inner chick.

Maybe…just maybe….I thought that nagging the paint off of the walls would guilt him into action just to get me to shut up.

Maybe…just maybe…I have no earthly clue on how men really work and should go take a class in Men 101.

What I ended up doing was starting the project myself, and I will assume that it was the sheer fear of me screwing something up that eventually drove him into action.

I will assume it is because I have no problem using a butter knife in place of a screwdriver or the frying pan as a hammer that makes him flinch.

Regardless, the ball has begun to roll. Amen. Halleluiah. Bless You. Gods Speed.

This past weekend we spent from sun up until sun down refinishing the wood floors in one of the kid’s rooms. Nasty, dirty and labor intensive little job that is, but the floors look remarkable.

We also spackled, sanded, primered and painted the ceiling and walls, put in a new ceiling fan, yanked out the windows to be washed and reset and will hang new closet and interior doors this weekend.

Needless to say, I can barely move today and my overall home looks like a bomb went off in every single room….but the satisfaction and excitement over finally getting it going is pay off enough.

Tomorrow I will post pictures of the new room. Unfortunately I was not smart enough to be the before shots, so they will likely not impress you.

MichChick

Wisdom in tight places

2007-11-02T10:18:00.001-04:00

Submitted by: Hick With Class

***************************************

A Message by George Carlin:

The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but
shorter tempers, wider Freeways , but narrower viewpoints.

We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time.

We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.

We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.

We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor.

We conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things.
We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul.

We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait.

We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships.

These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill.

Remember to spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever.

Remember to say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side.

Remember to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent.

Remember to say, "I love you" to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.

Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.

Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.

AND ALWAYS REMEMBER:

Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the
moments that take our breath away.

-George Carlin

Sucking Wind

2007-10-29T11:01:00.000-04:00

Queen Bee emailed me urging me to post.

I guess I have been rather slacking lately.

My deepest, most sincere, MichChick apologies. I love you guys….I do!

This time of the year is usually unsettling for me and 2007 has proven itself to be a stellar year for all–things-crappy for the fall yet again.

There have been recent lay-offs, sickness, death, teenage drama, tornados and some remarkably horrible weather.

And while new jobs will be gotten, teenage drama will give way to adulthood and Mother Nature is eternally a bitch….sickness took my friend Ray on Sunday, proving that death is the ultimate winner for all things sucky.

May the angels discover your warmth and humor and may the saints discover your wisdom.

I will miss you Ray.

MichChick

U.S. Citizenship Test: Could YOU Pass?

2007-10-12T10:35:00.000-04:00

If you were born in the United States, you didn't have to do anything to become a citizen. But each year, thousands of people have to take a test to gain citizenship.

Recently the exam was updated to include a more diverse group of contributors to American history and more recent historical events. This quiz includes actual questions asked on the exam given by the Bureau of Citizenship and Immigration Services, including some of the new ones.

U.S. Citizenship Test HERE

Happy Friday!

MichChick

Shameless, random product placements......

2007-10-11T10:19:00.000-04:00

Food Chopper

I bought this beauty the other day and am in total and complete love.

I had seen it on the infomercials once or twice and even saw the Today Show test run it with good results, but it was tripping across it at Meijer that finally got me over the finish line.

I love, love, LOVE this thing and could be a potential chopper pusher if I am not careful.

Shop around for it if you are considering getting one. Prices vary all over the place and some come with additional “slicer or dicer” that come in pretty handy too.

Winter Read

You know the sign of good character building and a strong storyline is when you finish a book and actually MISS the characters in it.

These books are not romance novels or “chic books”, if you will. They can be quite graphic and violent but pack one hell of a story punch.

This trilogy is hard to conceptualize in the beginning of the book, as it is so far “out there” on an imaginary level, that you have to struggle to understand what the author needs you to.

Honestly, this is usually cause for me to put down a book and never pick it back up.

With that said, Anne Bishop manages to keep a hold of you long enough for you to “get it” and get snagged so deep in the book that you stay up four hours past your bedtime reading it.

It is a wonderfully thrilling, beautifully written, and daring trilogy with some adult subject matters that will not be suitable for the faint of heart.

I lost the Mister to it last week and have not seen him since.

Scent of A Woman

I went out on a limb and purchased this perfume (oil) from Amazon based solely on the reviews and without ever smelling it.

Needless to say, I was pleasantly stunned when it arrived and I actually smelled it for the first time. I plastered it all over one wrist and compulsively smelled myself all night.

It’s THAT good.

Queen Bee and my chicks really like the “One Love” scent as I have both and can honestly say that you cannot go wrong with either.

I am not into floral scents or scents that are so thick that you “taste” them after being assaulted by the smell. I like a crisp, erotic, but clean smell.

These are sold cheap enough to sample, try, and enjoy with little threat of ending up gathering dust on top of your dresser.

MichChick

A Mister's Birthday

2007-10-05T08:32:00.001-04:00

Happy Birthday Mister!!!!!!!!!!!

May the world (and your wife) be your oyster today.

Love you CRAZY......

MichChick

What?

2007-10-03T14:40:00.000-04:00

I have read this more than I care to admit and still nothing.

Indeed.

Complete brain shut down on this one.

Today’s news headline:

Bush vetoes child health insurance plan
President, Congress battle over $30 billion coverage increase
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21111931/

Yesterday’s news headline:

Congress Quietly Approves Billions More for Iraq War
http://www.thenation.com/blogs/thebeat?bid=1&pid=237751

The Senate agreed on Thursday to increase the federal debt limit by $850 billion -- from $8.965 trillion to $9.815 trillion -- and then proceeded to approve a stop-gap spending bill that gives the Bush White House at least $9 billion in new funding for its war in Iraq.

* I once yawned so much in a small period of time that I threw up.

* My Ken doll had a “borrowed” arm from our Donnie Osmond doll. This was my first introduction into different types of skin color.

* The entire female population of the Clan can pick up anything with her toes.

* The family birthmark is a crooked butt crack.

Seriously? You are shocked?

Why do we tell people that we have never met or will ever see again to “have a nice day”? Isn’t this rather bossy and rude? I am not sure how this one snuck by the etiquette police.

And finally…..

I don’t know so don’t bother sending me mail.

MichChick

Being Mommy, part two

2007-10-01T10:05:00.000-04:00

Two of my chicks are now eighth graders. Just for the record, eighth grade girls are scary and physically appear much, MUCH older than they are.

I am not sure what happens to them over the summer but they wake up on the first day of school in the bodies of women but with the maturity level of a seven year old.

Add to this the pure horror-mone storm that has taken place in my house and trying to reason with these new beasts is frustrating.

Slapping braces on their little smart mouths should “ugly them down” a tad and slow the process… (This is my parallel universe ….try not to burst my bubble.)

Em already has a full rack of metal and Rob is going in today for her first jaw-widening utensil that will occupy the majority of her mouth and cause her to constantly drool.

I had braces in my twenties…roughly the same time that I was pregnant with both of my chicks. Needless to say, there was a two-year span that I felt constantly frumpy and unattractive.

I am not wishing negative body imagery upon my little angels, please do not misunderstand me here…I am merely a mother with her fingers crossed trying to make it to the finish line.

I see girls their age dropping like flies into the vast pool of “stupid choices” and am quite honestly, scared to death. We always want our children to have better lives and make better choices then we did.

And I made some pretty stupid ones.

I remember back when I was out making some of those dumb-assed choices and coming home to the Queen Bee sitting at the kitchen table….SMOKING.

The Queen does not smoke.

Back then, I was sure that she could not possibly understand me or what was going on in my life. Her distain for my boyfriend, her horror at catching me smoking and her freaking out when I dropped out of school, ELUDED me.

The fact that she did not beat me to death when I marched home, barely eighteen and announced that I would be moving to Arizona, is a show of strength I may never have.

However……..

Because of the Queen….I went back to school and graduated on time.

Because of her, I snapped out of my addiction to assholes and left that jerk high and dry.

I no longer smoke, never ended up a teen mother, in jail or on drugs and eventually moved back to Michigan to be near her.

There are things that she taught and things that she said that remarkably…stuck.

I may have had to test those theories, rules, and boundaries with a blatant stubbornness that did nothing but cost me time. But eventually, that voice in the back of my head won out and set me on a better path.

So maybe….just maybe, I should relax a little and know that the things that I have been teaching and saying may actually stick.

Thanks Mom.

Sorry I was such a pain in the ass.

MichChick

Why Animals Hate Halloween

2007-09-25T14:43:00.000-04:00

MichChick

IKEA

2007-09-25T11:53:00.000-04:00

Three Ikea commercials that I highly doubt will ever make the airwaves, but hey....

I happen to be partial to the third one......

MichChick

The Mister's Maturity Level

2007-09-18T14:03:00.000-04:00

Since the Mister is on second shift now and we never get to see each other, we take every opportunity to go to lunch together that we get. This within itself is great for us and really, of no interest to you out there, I am sure.

What is a mild blip on the screen is what happens AFTER we have lunch and he is depositing me back off at work.

For whatever male induced reason, he finds it necessary to roll down his window as I am walking away from the car, to catcall, whistle, and make loud kissing noises at me.

I work in a building that has a Beaner’s on the bottom floor; so there are ALWAYS people out front, sitting at tables, and baring witness to my husband’s obnoxious, knuckle dragging behavior.

There are some days where I can ignore it and go about walking into the building and others where I blush so hard my cheeks hurt and I fight a strange desire to run.

Then there is the dry humping thing he does while I am trying to get IN the car. He knows that this is bothersome to me and I guarantee you it is done only for his amusement.

I would like to think that I married a genetically progressed, mature, and stable individual…..but it is times like those that make me question MY sanity for saying “I do”.

Add all of this to his fascination for all things boobs and I am not quite sure how the male species is in charge of the free world.

Stunning.

MichChick

John Q. Public

2007-09-17T13:37:00.000-04:00

I have come close to taking a job as a 911 operator a few years ago. The pay and benefits would have been pretty good, but I would be dealing with folk who just don't seem to get it.

I grant you the following police tapes sent to me by Hick With Class to make my point.

MichChick

Academia Rant

2007-09-13T09:52:00.000-04:00

This whole rant begins with a Pod cast that the Mister was tuning into, where some of the comments were: “we need to pay our teachers more” or “their pay needs to be tax exempt” in order to attract and keep good teachers.

I disagree.

Not on the basis that they need a boost in their paychecks…..Lord knows we ALL need those….but on the basis of that being what needs to happen.

For decades upon decades, there have been teachers. Good ones, bitchy ones, funny ones and bad ones – those facts there shall always be. What makes the good ones stick is passion and their actual ability to TEACH – not just the paycheck and/or benefits.

I know for a fact, that teachers spend the bulk of their classroom time teaching children to test well and have very little time for anything else. Remarkably, the theory behind “No Child Left Behind” is the very substance that will undo it.

You cannot ready a child for life and learning by testing them to death. Teachers and school systems cannot get their funding if a certain percentage of their student body fails that testing.

Therefore, the schools push the teachers, the teachers push the students, and at the end of it, my kids end up with the knowledge of how to properly fill in a circle with a number 2 pencil. Meanwhile, they gouge budget dollars out of music, art, physical education, sports programs and extra curricular instruction. School becomes anything but a learning institution.

If you were a teacher and wanted to pass on your passion and love of a subject, does this sound like an environment to do that in?

Secondly…..this country has become so ultra sensitive and a blatant victim state, that discipline, care, direction, opinion, rules and standards have been beat out, sued out, and bitched out of existence. I could write an entire book on this subject alone and feel horribly repressed because I must limit this discussion here.

Look….here is the bottom line people:

Parents send their children to someone else to watch, (free of charge) teach, instruct, tolerate and inspire – all day, every day for nine months out of the year. They are asking these very people to teach subjects that are inherently boring to an adult, let alone a child, so that they may be functioning members of society.

Parents MUST give them the right to tell a child “no” or “that is unacceptable” when the boundaries have been overstepped. They have to have the right to expect: respect, good manners, proper dress and parental support.

Can you IMAGINE your neighbor from three blocks away, whom you have NEVER met, bringing their child into your home for the day and that neighbor expecting you to let that child run amok in your home?

Coaches should have the right to tell a child that they did not make the team. Children should be allowed to play tag on the playground and school nurses should be allowed to administer aspirin.

We had to sing in choirs, be able to climb the rope in gym, get in MAJOR trouble for mouthing off, dress by a code, sing the national anthem, take art classes, know the difference between <> signs, know all the fifty states in alphabetical order and who the hell Pocahontas was.

Your teacher was scary and had the authority to call YOUR MOM. Getting sent to the principal’s office was the worse offense EVER and people simply did not get to the point of expulsion. School was an extension of your home and your parents expected you to behave, follow the rules and play nice.

The point is…we lived. We made it into adulthood, mostly trauma free (I am SURE there are instances where this is not true indeed) and we had to play on equipment made out of STEEL that had lead-based paint on it to boot.

When did we, as a nation, fall asleep and wake up stupid?

*Sigh*

MichChick

The Whole Famn Damily

2007-09-11T19:19:00.000-04:00

The whole Clan (sans Chris and hers) went camping this past weekend up in Muskegon.

(Make sure to click the music ON)

I'll bet they still don't know what hit 'em.

MichChick

Being Mommy

2007-09-10T10:33:00.000-04:00

I wanted to share this due to its sheer poignancy. Very rarely do I get the pleasure of reading material that dives into the deep, deep waters of the emotional tide of being a parent, as it is not all warm and fuzzy, bunnies and ducks.

Simply put……..It is your heart on the outside of your body.

********************************************************

Being A Mom

We are sitting at lunch one day when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of "starting a family."

"We're taking a survey," she says half-joking.

"Do you think I should have a baby?"

"It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral.

"I know," she says, "no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations."

But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes.

I want to tell her, that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable.

I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking, "What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her. That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die.

I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a souffle or her best crystal without a moments hesitation.

I feel that I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right.

I want my daughter to know that every day decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom. However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother.

Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself.

That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give herself up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years, not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs.

I want her to know that a cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor. My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks.

I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child. I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic.

I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving.

I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike. I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time. I want her to taste the joy that is so real it actually hurts.

My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes.

"You'll never regret it," I finally say.

Then I reached across the table, squeezed my daughter's hand and offered a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings.

- Unknown

Shaving, bikinis and bras

2007-09-06T10:27:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, I alluded to being less-than-happy with the chick’s bio-father. While trying to remain mature and fair, I will do my very best to just hand you the facts and leave out any foul language that springs to mind when this subject comes up.

As you know, the chicks went out mid-July to spend six weeks with their father and his new bride. Keeping in mind that the two of them have never seen it necessary for her to ever meet or even speak with me.

That still stuns me to this day.

Regardless of that detail, the girls seem to like her well enough and that is really all I can ask for.

Off they went and for the most part, their stay was smooth and a pleasant break from the craziness that consumes my life for the other eleven months of the year.

He and she spent gobs of money on the girls, brought them to California, let them eat piles of candy, drink gallons of pop, stay up late and run through the house with scissors.

Pretty cool if you are an eleven and twelve year old by all rights. Makes the Mommy grind her teeth, but hey…..they are with their father and happy. Life is good.

The DAY BEFORE they are scheduled to come home and one of my chicks birthday to boot - I call to sing and praise her on her big entrance into teenage-hood. After a little chat, she informs me that she has "cuts all over her legs and will not be shaving again" because she is too scared.
Excuse me?

“I told you that could not shave your legs yet and that we would discuss it when you got home.”

“I know mommy, but daddy said we could shave them anyways.”

It is at this point that I am stunned stupid. Never in my thirteen years of co-parenting with this man has he or I EVER trumped the other parent. EVER.

It is our rule that was discussed long before, during and often still over parenting life span. So maybe, just maybe….she is mistaken. (Please note that I promised her as she noted the rise in my voice - that I would not call and yell at her father until after her birthday…this will come to bite me in the rear later).

I can’t help myself. My head is buzzing from the rush of blood and my mouth has gone dry. I called and started off nice and calm.

“I heard a rumor that the girls have shaved their legs after I had told them ‘no’.”

“Yeah. I know.”

That little admission was all it took for me to freak-straight-out. By the end of my screaming session, I was shaking and storming through the house.

Forward to the next couple of days after the girls return where I come to learn that:

The new little misses went out and bought them string bikini’s and bras from Fredericks of Hollywood, was in a constant inner battle to “one up” me when speaking with the chicks (“I bet I make more money than your mother” and “your mother just called your father and yelled at him”) and sent home jeans so tight you could tell what religion they are.

You will need to remember that my chicks are newly 12 and 13 years old. For those of you still pondering “what the big deal” is, here is the following information:

The String bikinis

A definition from Wikipedia describes it quite well……..

“A string bikini refers to a bikini swimsuit that is scantier and more revealing than the traditional bikinis. It gets its name from the string characteristics of its design. Rather than featuring a full single piece bottom, the string bikini consists of two triangular shaped pieces connected at the groin but not at the sides, where a thin "string" wraps around the waist connecting the two parts.

[The string bikini] is similar to but more revealing than a bikini. Women's string bikini underwear normally resembles the bottom of the string bikini bathing suit. The tops of each piece join with either an elastic waistband similar to that found on briefs or to a thin piece of material or "string," leaving the sides exposed except for the string or waistband.”

Keep thinking…..12 and 13 years old.

The New Bras

http://www.fredericks.com/

Hollywood Extreme Cleavage bra

I haven’t the heart to expose you to this picture as I have no good grasp on everyone’s particular tastes when it comes to skin exposure….so you will need to follow this link to see the actual bra.

The name ALONE should have stopped any right minded adult in their tracks. Ok…so I promised to stick to the facts and allow you to form your own opinion and I will do just that and stop here.

And I thought Ex-Wifey was bad. Shame on me.

MichChick

School Supplies

2007-09-05T09:03:00.000-04:00

The chicks are back from their bio-father's house and in school as of yesterday.

I have a ton of bottled up aggression towards their father that I will either a) need to sort through before I manage to get it into the written word or b) get over it. There is little I can do about any of it now.

What I AM fussy about these days is the sheer amount of money I had to shell out JUST for school supplies this year.

Our school system, just like most school systems across this great land of ours, does not supply paper or even a damn pencil to their students any longer.

That alone angers me. But let’s add to it the laundry list of additional supplies each teacher is now insisting that my chicks obtain JUST to come to their class.

When the hell did middle school turn into college? Next thing I know.... I will have to pay for their books.

Some of the most ridiculous items?

A daily planner for History class…..that’s right….I said HISTORY class.

A book cover for her History book (this has to be obtained in no less than one week per the note sent home).

A scientific calculator. (WHY?)

Highlighters.

Blue pens only.

A journal, which has to BE A JOURNAL and not just a notebook or composition book.

These are just merely a few as my shopping cart was FULL of other miscellaneous items on the school lists for each of my children.

I have numerous issues with all of this. For instance:

What if we were poor folk and could not afford such supplies being demanded to attend your class?

Upon exclaiming this from my dinner table, I was instructed that the teachers told the class that if “any student could not afford such things come see them after class and they would be provided”.

WHAT?!!!!

How dare any teacher take an adult issue and force it upon a child to contend with and how absolutely horrifying for that poor child to admit it? School is all about the “haves and the have nots” to children. Forcing any child to contend with that reality is cruel and insensitive.

*gggggggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrr*

Secondly, I think that if you are going to get freakishly picky about school supplies, you had better roll your ass up to the store and buy enough to supply them. Again…I would like to stress that in college, this is a reality….in middle school this is ridiculous.

Lastly…..I would really hate to have to bring up the whole WAR thing, but just for a minute….just a second really, let me have it.

We spend roughly $12,000 per person in America to be fighting a war without an end.

Do I really, REALLY need to continue this point?

Just think….this entire rant was merely over school supplies. I can’t imagine how badly I am going to loose it when I have to shell out $200.00 in fees (per child) for them to play school sports this year.

Blah.

MichChick

Puppet show...

2007-08-28T16:09:00.000-04:00

Gotta love a man that is good with his hands.

Enjoy!

MichChick

Where the sun don't shine...

2007-08-27T13:14:00.000-04:00

Ok…so camping was a little more SOGGY than I had originally expected it to be. I thought: “Alright, it will rain a little on Friday night and a little Saturday morning…whatever, I will have the camper and we can play cards or something”.

Ummmm, no. It was clear skies on the drive up Friday afternoon and the closer we got to Bay City the darker the clouds became until those rotten clouds turned into rapid downpour. (I guess central Michigan had a few tornados to contend with that we didn’t, so good luck for me on that one.)

Fine.

Maybe it will pass soon and I can get camp set up then it can do whatever it pleases.

No luck there either.

For those of you that know me, know that I could not back my camper up if you were to offer me large sums of money. No…..not even on a dare. I don’t know why and I am tired of trying to figure it out – I just CAN’T.

So the fact that MY campsite was surrounded by impassable trees and other campers, a ‘drive through’ wasn’t going to happen either. I had to pull up, get out, get soaked, drag the camper through the stubborn mud and set up camp with just me and the Boy in ….THE RAIN.

Thank G-d Shell and Big D showed up or I would have put the camper wherever it stopped. Hill or no hill, the wheel was stuck and not moving.

Shell and Pee have those pictures on their blogs, as I was too busy frantically getting camp up to worry about getting good shots. Shell on the other hand, took joy in bouncing around me snapping away.

Wench.

Regardless…..camp got up (I ended up in a darn good position and managed to keep the inside of the camper dry) and the sun came out JUST as I was finishing.

Why didn’t I just wait? ‘Cause that bastard DNR jerk told me that it was going to rain until midnight…..not for just an hour that it actually did.

Friday night Shell got skunked, Pee got injured and the neighbors were loud and had unnaturally bright flood lights on the BACK of his camper, blasting us in the face and eyes. This caused an already sauced Shell to get rather loud and fussy, and the Man was mature enough to ask them to turn them off.

Saturday morning we woke to freezing cold weather and rain, so we ate breakfast and the other two camps went back to bed.

I chose this time to gather some precious photos myself.

Pretty huh?

After all this, the sun decided to come BACK OUT and the rest of the weekend was picture perfect.

Of course, this is when the Mister and Em showed up.

Happy Monday!

MichChick

Model Behavior

2007-08-23T14:21:00.000-04:00

It's not so much that this poor baby falls down TWICE, it is the newsmen in the background getting themselves tickled over it.

Enjoy!

MichChick

Soggy Camping and Endless Chatter

2007-08-23T10:32:00.000-04:00

Pee, Shell and I (along with our perspective Misters) will be heading off to camp this weekend.

I will head up sans the Mister for Friday night but toting my son along so that he can talk my ear off. I love that kid, but he never shuts up. EVER.

I am not sure if the silence just flat out disturbs him or it may even provoke physical discomfort… ….but he will yak away just to hear the sound of his own voice.

This flies in the face of my chosen method of peace and quiet.

My girls have never had this compulsion to natter on endlessly and sometimes I can even get the Mister to hush down, but I think I may have to medicate the Boy for the two-hour car ride up or duct tape his mouth shut.

Have I ever mentioned that I am a big, fat JERK?

Thankfully, the Mister and Em will join me on Saturday and unfortunately, bring the rain that has made the lower part of Michigan rather soggy this week, with them.

This should make for a fun filled, soggy but interesting weekend and we are ALL bringing our cameras.

Queen Bee has refused the right to come and dwell in madness with us.

Chicken.

Have a good weekend!

MichChick

Random Rantings.....

2007-08-21T13:55:00.000-04:00

Much to the horror of my mother, I give you my following random thoughts......

Bad Drivers

People who wait until the very last possible moment to get over during construction, are big, fat, self-centered, egotistical jerks. Do not worry about anyone else, Capitan Universe…..It’s your world…. I am just living in it.

Just try not to get too put out when I finally allow the Mister to throw pennies out of the window at your sorry self.

Never mind. You will anyways.

Tailgating is the equivalent to bullying and childish all the same. Stop it.

95% of this earth’s population cannot drive properly while on a cell phone. ‘Nuff said.

The left turn lane, is a turn lane and will always be JUST a turn lane. Using it to satisfy your need to be in among the herd of cattle blasting past you to try and MERGE is just sinful and causes undo panic for those of us in the driving lane.

Health and Beauty

I want an explanation for HOW the tube top and Jackie O sunglasses got past the fashion police again.

Razor-blade bone definition is not cute or sexy. Any man telling you so is probably eating his weight every day anyways.

Eat.

Malnourishment takes more years off of your life span than if you were to smoke two packs of cigarettes a day with a whiskey chaser. You will be skinny when you are dead, yes…but not attractive. Sorry.

Protein shakes are not food. Food is something you chew.

Why is it that some bras actually make you look wonderful while others make you look like you look like you are forever stuck in a mammogram machine? Are there other shapes of breasts BESIDES round and curvy?

Blue eye shadow is horrid. Always will be…..and telling me I am a “cool” does not negate this fact.

Men and Sex

I read a blog the other day where a man was boasting about “making a girl have an orgasm seven times!”

Ok. Even under the absolute best, drug-induced scenario, this is not possible. I am sorry to have to disband a ton of myths here, but NO.

Maybe, just maybe if she really was not faking the hell out of it and she did manage…Ok, let’s say THREE….trust me when I say it had really nothing to do with you at all anyways.

Sorry.

Women either do or they do not. The fact that you could not tell the difference between fact and fiction says a lot.

And while style, speed, emotions, rhythm, moon position, gravity pull, music and how she feels about herself at that MOMENT have the majority ruling in any orgasm, your presence there is just a minor player in that game sir.

It takes six whole months to get over horrible sex and even longer to get over a horrible kisser.

Women really do not care how much hair you have on your head. No….REALLY we do not. We do care however about how you style what you have. Denial is not sexy.

Size DOES matter.

I can love you like crazy and still not think you bending over naked in front of me is sexy.

Farting is not foreplay.

Sorry CrabbyMomma…I know your toes are curling and you are praying like hell that the computers at your work take a power surge…..but it all had to be said.

Have a good week!

Happy BIG GIRL Birthday!!!!!

2007-08-16T14:46:00.001-04:00

Happy 18th Birthday Chris!!!!!!!

Click HERE for your very own personal birthday song!

Enjoy!!!!!!!!!!

Auntie MichChick

Abracadabra

2007-08-16T09:06:00.000-04:00

I watched this at least a dozen times and still do not understand how this trick is done. This either points out a glaring intelligence deficiency and they should revoke my Honor Society pass or this actually is one of the best performances to date.

You decide.

MichChick

Mui Macho

2007-08-15T09:56:00.000-04:00

Because I was (read with a mild hint of actual distain) married to a man for 13 years that behaved in such a manner as the poor saps on the video below….I happen to find this video hilarious.

I do not believe that the Mister has such a problem…but then again, HE is perfect after all.

Enjoy!

MichChick

Mars Bar

2007-08-15T09:16:00.000-04:00

Thanks to a reader, James, this posting has been de-bunked.

I have been punked. I fell for it. I believed it....I was looking FORWARD to it.

Damn it.

Thank you James!

{Original Post}

*Two moons on 27th August 2007*

*27th August; the day the Whole World is waiting for ........... Planet Mars will be the brightest in the night sky starting August. It will look as large as the full moon to the naked eye.

This will culminate on August 27 when Mars comes within 34.65 Million miles of earth. Be sure to watch the sky on Aug. 27 12:30 am. It will look like the earth has 2 moons. The next time Mars may come this close is in 2287.

NO ONE ALIVE TODAY will ever see it again .

MichChick

Pudding for two...

2007-08-14T13:42:00.000-04:00

The Clan of Nut Jobs (sans the Mister) were all gathered over at Shell’s house a few weeks ago for our monthly ego flattening and Shell decided that one of the youngest Wee Nuts needed carte blanche over a cup of pudding.

It was a joy to watch as she decided that the kitty needed to have a taste and then a bigger taste and then….well….Oh shoot! Why not just let the kitty wear it?

The cat, the deck, and her outfit will never be the same again.

MichChick

A tent and some hot dog sticks..

2007-08-09T16:21:00.000-04:00

Ok….so I nattered on yesterday about camping with the Mister and our way cool new tent that we used.

Keep in mind that this tent doesn’t do anything really. It isn’t even big. It doesn’t have a separate screen room, lights, sectioned rooms or even a really good rain fly.

But…..it does hook right up to the back of our truck.

When we bought this little bugger, I thought that we might actually sleep in the truck BED and then have the tent for either; a) little people b) dog pen c) space for the food because of pesky raccoons or d) naked dance floor.

However, we decided that due to the humidity that the Midwest has been basking in these days and because we forgot the screen for the truck windows, sleeping in the actual tent would be optimal.

In this picture you can see all the way into the front seat of the truck. On Saturday night, when I started to become peeved because our rather rude and noisy neighbors were carrying on about the outcome of the last Harry Potter book (I am only on five out of the seven), we climbed into our back seat and watched movies on our portable DVD player.

When we were all done (the Mister passed out and was snoring too loud for me to hear the movie), we just climbed right into the tent from there.

A few notes from the MacGyver bin:

The Mister and I were hungry.

I was lazy.

I got creative.

The Mister was none too impressed.

Butt-hole.

Have a good weekend!

Mich Chick

Honey...I'm HOME!!!

2007-08-08T09:26:00.000-04:00

The Mister and I have returned from the Land of Oz to once again, be amongst the working class and the grind.

Blah.

I love going camping with my husband but I oh-so-hate returning to real life. Something about coming back from a great get-a-way makes me fussy, whinny, and borderline impossible to live with.

With all of the above crying and moaning aside, we had a WONDERFUL time camping. We went up to Bay City for their annual rib festival and ended up at a Water Foul festival that was being held at the state park.

No….I do not hunt.

I did however, enjoy the people watching that accompanies going to such an event and they had a thousand or so over priced, cute as hell, puppies there.

At the time, I was none to pleasant about the price tag that was being demanded for….yes…A DOG…..but now I am most grateful or I would have ended up with a houseful of them little buggers.

The Mister is absolutely no help when it comes to telling me “no” in those situations either. I think he secretly wants me to loose my mind and end up with a barnyard for a home. I told him once that I wanted a pig and a rooster. Do you think he told me to go look for a new husband?

Nope. We went to the county fairs instead. I LOVE that man!

Anyhoo….we never did make it to the rib festival. We decided that spending time hanging out in our cool new tent, reading and walking the campground looking at nothing and everything at the same time, was what we really wanted to do.

There is nothing like getting away from the rat trap (“race” implies that you have a choice ) and listening to the crickets and frogs while breathing crisp air with stars winking at you, to recharge and reenergize the mind and spirit.

Before we came home, the Mister and I went to the batting cages and then bought fudge to eat until we puked.

Life is sweet.

Tomorrow I will have pictures of my hot dog contraption and our new, freakishly cool truck tent.

MichChick

Creative Advertising...

2007-07-26T12:17:00.000-04:00

I am sure that this line of advertising will get old quickly, but for now it's pretty darn funny.

Enjoy!

MichChick

King of Logistics

2007-07-25T11:59:00.000-04:00

I have always prided myself in being quite the MacGyver, the Compromiser…the Logistical one in the bunch.

I have been outdone.

MichChick

She loves to boogie.....

2007-07-23T19:59:00.000-04:00

My oh-so-neurotic dog Ripley surfs.

Ok, maybe not so much “surfs” as we have not been to a body of water big enough to test that theory, but I’m thinking she has the makings for it.

Last summer, my precious angles brought home their boogie boards from their yearly South Carolina trip and decided that putting the dogs on them in the pool was too cool to pass up. Boy Wonder whines incessantly and absolutely abhors the water. He would rather you just throw his ball for the umpteenth million time.

I’m thinking he has been traumatized by water in a past life or something, because it just is not natural for a dog to hate the water so. Giving him a bath even is a challenge as the feeling of water just unsettles him.

Ripley on the other hand took to the whole idea of being with her babies in the pool and after a couple of shaky starts on how to STAY on the boogie board as a four-legged creature, manages it now quite well.

Those of you that have been to my house know this and have experienced it first hand. For those of you whom have not, I took the following video:

(The sound on this is quite loud, so turn down your speakers BEFORE you play)

After a day of hard core swimming and barking, she likes to dry off in the sun, exhausted by her efforts to stay afloat.

Enjoy the week all!

MichChick

Fireflies in the night........

2007-07-20T11:09:00.000-04:00

For Christmas last year, the chick’s bio-dad and I agreed to get them cell phones called The Firefly.

Now…I do not believe (call me whacky) an eleven and twelve year old child need cell phones. I know this flies in the face of several parents out there... but I stand my ground.

I will leave the soapbox at the door as to WHY not and just say that this particular phone was my middle ground after being harassed for a year about them getting one.

The only reason that I even agreed to it was the several times that my chicks had to borrow a friend’s phone to call me because of missing school buses, leaving something somewhere or just general “need” phone calls.

I preprogrammed this particular phone for the only numbers it could dial OUT or receive and it has buttons on it for Mister, 911 and me. End of story and no big fat phone bills or spoiling.

The chicks HATED them. Apparently, the social status of anything less than a Razor phone is unacceptable and an embarrassment only akin to wearing pants that were too short.

I did not CARE.

In all fairness to the chicks, I hated them as well. The clarity is equivalent to a soup can and frustrating as hell when you are trying to speak to individuals who already violate the proper phone to mouth ratio so that you can understand them. But….that is not the point here.

Fast forward six months.

The end of the school year finally rolls around and I get the pleasure of finding out that one of my precious chicks no longer has her phone.

Her story is fuzzy but sounds something like it got stolen along with her fancy new sport bag that I JUST bought her.

I love my daughter like crazy, but she would loose her knee caps if they were not attached. So the probability is that her bag with her phone in it got LEFT somewhere.

*sigh*

Anyhoo….I finally remember this morning that I need to give up hope on its return and shut off the service and the monthly auto fill. So like any other human being that is computer literate, I went to the website.

Silly me.

I thought since I was able to activate, sign up and order new minutes online that I should be able to cancel all of these things as well.

No such luck.

As a matter of fact, there is not a searchable clue about cancelling or anything on that entire website that would even HINT as to how to get out from under this phone and its prepaid minutes.

After clicking my brains loose, I was able to locate a customer service phone number.

Sweet. Now I can just get this over with and move on with my day as this has already taken way longer than it should have.

Wrong again.

I grant you the following conversation after button pushing myself through a maze of “dial 1 for blah, blah”.

“Hello, thank you for calling Firefly Mobile, my ID number is 489367565. Can I have the phone number starting with area code please?”

“Sure. It’s 517-775-6220.”

“Ma’am, thank you. You would like to add minutes?”

“Um no…actually this phone was stolen, so I need to cancel.”

Long pause……………..

“Ma’am you need to dial customer service at 1-800-firefly.”

“I thought I WAS talking to customer service? Whatever….can I have the numeric value of that phone number?” (WHAT? I didn’t feel like spelling the crap out!)

Long pause……

“The balance on this account is $36.20.”

???????

“No…I’m sorry…I would like the actual PHONE NUMBER for customer service.”

“Ma’am, you will have to call customer service.”

Holy shit.

“Uh….I understand that…oh lord…never MIND. Thank you.”

“Thank you for calling Firefly Mobile customer service.”

*ggggrrrrrrr*

Ok…so I look stupid as I slowly spell-dial the new customer service number.

Low and behold…….it is the SAME phone number taking me to the SAME customer service department.

*sigh*

Have a great weekend!

MichChick

Button Pushing

2007-07-19T15:40:00.000-04:00

My husband calls it being “hypersensitive” and enjoys calling me that when the word “butthole” seems too immature for his argument.

So I tend to not like to use it toward others and for the sake of this entire argument, I really do not like opening up a can of worms that has “religion” stamped on the side.

With that said, my sister Pee sent me this today and while I will agree that the boys were being stupid and probably taking it way farther than they should have, I think that the punishment is a perfect case of “hypersensitivity”.

http://verystrangenews.com/?p=34

Sometimes the world needs to remember to breathe.

MichChick

Superman Returns!

2007-07-18T10:04:00.000-04:00

Just a little something for you to amuse yourself with today. It is a pretty good challenge and is family friendly.

I totally blew dead tuna at it.

http://hk.promo.yahoo.com/movie/superman/Stop_Press_Game/

Enjoy!

MichChick

It's a bird...it's a PLANE.

2007-07-17T11:18:00.000-04:00

My house is now child-free and quiet as a mouse house.

Not a bad shake if you can get it…however, with the Mister on second shift and my acts of debauchery gone by the way side, it really is quite a bore.

I know….I can’t believe I typed that either.

Being child-free is by far, more of a blast when I have a play mate and can smoke, drink and stay up late. Now all I get to do is play with my navel fuzz and surf the internet without little prying eyes.

I need a hobby.

We took the chicks to the airport on Saturday and got the pleasure of utilizing the new terminal at Metro. What a metropolis of new technology and all things that make simple folk go “oooooo!”.

Our gate was so far down the terminal that it was “suggested” that we ride the ETran over to it. That’s right…I said we rode a train/tran to our terminal.

Talk about stunning the country folk.

The Mister and the chicks were so taken by the moving sidewalk that they made sure to ride it over and over and OVER…yet another badge of our simple minds.

Everything was contemporary, shinny, new age and very impressive which is a far cry from the painful experience at the old terminal.

Here is how it is at the OLD crappy crap terminal at Metro.

Arrive twelve hours before take off after driving two hours in rush hour Detroit traffic.

Just for reference, you people that drive in and around Detroit are INSANE and harbor some horrific anger issues. That’s all I have to say about that.

After your arrival, drive around for another three hours trying to locate a parking spot. You will end up parking the farthest away from the actual airport anyways, so just save yourself the time and go there first.

Take the shuttle bus with all of your crap and tip the driver. For what? I don’t know, but we do not wish to anger the locals.

Wait in some amusement park snaked line for another hour to get to the counter for your boarding pass. Smiley heavily at the over worked, been there too damn long, cranky counter person. Hand over every piece of identification that you possess, take some silly ass oath about strangers and baggage, try not to look like a criminal and finally get your boarding pass.

Airport Security. Now there is the fun part.

Part one. Strip naked.

Part two. Try not to look like a criminal.

Part three. Pray that you were able to remove any substance that could possibly set that damn detector off. If it does, “please go over to the side” and prepare for a cavity search.

Part four. Gather all of your crap, clothing, money, keys, cell phone and SHOES from your little cubby and maintain that look of innocence. Remember, we are trying to keep the natives calm.

Rush to your gate in a semi-state of panic because the wench at the counter and the security measures took longer than necessary.

Board your precious cargo and wait at the window like a pet store puppy for their plane to take off.

Rinse and repeat in six weeks.

Yahoo.

MichChick

Hello I am mister (vacation part II)

2007-07-13T15:02:00.001-04:00

We made a whirlwind 17 1/2 hour trip home and with me having stomach issues the last 9 or so hours. Needless to say, we pulled into town tired, hungry, sick and exhausted at 11:00 Friday night. We fell into our beds (my luxurious bed!) and proceeded to not get any sleep because I had to run to the bathroom every hour.

My trip apparently did not constitute nearly enough punishment to make up for my past sins, as we turned around and left Saturday to go back out for more vacationing. MichChick joined us this time and thankfully with out the cousins.

She was kind enough to let us wait until after four in the afternoon before she forced us to climb back into that accursed truck. This allowed the kids to swim in the pool my lovely wife worked herself to death on while we were away and I to work out the worst of the kinks in my cranky digestive system.

A two and a half hour drive has never seemed as short to any group of travelers, the kids and I never even got a chance to settle in. I do not think the boy was even able to make a start on irratating his sisters, and that is something he can usually manage at a gold medal pace. Regardless, the redheads and I were really looking forward to an introduction to the "big rocks" place that we had heard so much about over the years, the girls could not wait to make new adventures there and michchick, well, I think she was just missing the silence that she had "endured" while we were away.

When last we left you we had enjoyed as much southern hospitality, to say nothing of the overpriced touristy crap the children are so fond of, that we could manage (or they were willing to give) and it was time to head home.

The "big rocks" were all we had heard them to be, big, great to explore, fun to climb and even better to jump off of. The kids were all very happy to be reunited with the Queen bee's family and all got along remarkabely well (aside from the ocasional boy bashing or girl baiting depending on what side was doing the explaning or complaning). We had great swimming, better jumping, huge ice cream cones, some tasty dinners and we all got to enjoy the "grandma's pancakes" I have heard so much about over the last four years. (they were excelent by the way). A wonderful time was had by all for sure.

Monday night we came home, finally, rest, relaxation, nothing to do, nowhere to go, tut tut, not so fast. It is not only common ground week, but the children are all about to ship out with their respective parents for an extended stay, two for at least 3 weeks and two for closer to 6. So friends needed to come over and visit, bags needed to be unpacked, washed and repacked, concerts needed to be viewed and pools needed to be swam in.

This is why the chick and I collapse into a comatose state when the house is empty.

I Love vacations, but god sometimes I wonder when work starts again.

Hello my name is Mister (the vacation edition)

2007-07-12T09:32:00.000-04:00

Well we are back (the children and I) from our worldly travels. We saw much we did much and we had a reasonably good time while we were doing it. You can not ask for a lot more from a vacation than that.

The odyssey began with the Fathers day trip to Michigan Adventure and continued with MichChick taking the brood and the Boy’s cousin (more as a favor of the girls) on a weekend trip to Luskys resort north of Port Huron.

We stopped at home for a few days, more a pit stop than a homecoming, so we could unpack repack and leave again on our whirlwind adventures. This time I piled our brood, the cousin and the cousins little sister into the truck (every seat now filled) and began our 950 mile jaunt south through the mountains destination; Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.

I have had some experience, as well as some success, taking the brood on this trip. We were faced with a few new variables this time around, the cousins were tagging along and we were faced with the MichChicks’s rule that no one, under any circumstances is allowed to eat in her new truck.

This created problems on a few fronts.

First of all, the best way to keep the natives from being restless is to feed ‘em. Secondly, it is a 14 hour drive and I do not like to make it any longer than that by stopping for annoyances like food, gas and bathroom breaks let alone stopping to let six little kids out to run around a rest area for half an hour.

Lastly, it caused a major issue with the me because the Mister likes to eat early and often.

While I could have probably avoided the wrath of the MichChick, I would have had to drop the "I am forty years old" card on the kids and I try not to do that to often. Besides...there are some things that you just do not torment our brood with and food is a biggie.

They rarely stop eating and after withholding food from them, I am not at all sure it would be wise to eat in front of them. Needles to say...the drive that we have done in less than 14 hours took us over 16 and a half, but we arrived at the grandparents in Myrtle Beach in relatively good shape (a little less sane, but ok).

Myrtle Beach was pretty awesome as usual.

We added one more cousin to the group I was dragging around, which at that point was hardly noticeable. Although it did require their grandfather to help ferry children around town as we did not have enough seating for everyone.

This vacation followed the same pattern of our previous ones, I awoke to find the kids eating “breakfast” with their Giggi (read grandmother). I use the quotes because one of the grandchildren was having apple pie and cherry cobbler while another had a Heath bar and chewy granola bars.

She claims to be the same woman that raised me, but at times like this I have my doubts.

I wrote it off to the fact that their Giggi was excited to have all of her grandchildren (although after the drive I found little good about them let alone anything grand) in one place at the same time (even if the smallest of them would not make an appearance till later in the day).

I took the gaggle of overly sugared, hyper as hell, children off to buy Boogie boards, a bathing suit for the one that forgot to pack one and water shoes for the one that did not have those and on to the beach.

The Beach is a staple of our Myrtle Beach vacations, we go there every day, and every day I have to virtually drag the kids out of the water. They play in the sand, they play in the water and they absolutely love to boogie board in the surf. While it is a blast to watch, I am invariably tempted to join them on the first day and spend the rest of the trip remembering why it is a blast as a kid but hurts like hell when you are old (my back is still stiff 10 days later).

We went shopping a couple of times, Myrtle Beach is blessed with wonderful beaches and a great amount of tourist driven shopping. If you have never been shopping with three 12ish-going-on-17 girls and their 6 and 8 year old wanna be teenagers too cousins, I highly recommend the experience.

If you survive, it makes for lasting memories.

Kind of like taming large cats but without the scars and little sparkly tights. Although, I could have used the chair, whip and gun.

A day of boating with my brother-in-law, fireworks on the beach, a marathon session of mini golf, more of the Beach and shopping pretty much wraps up the vacation.

Much fun was had by all. We fought with each other, loved each other, played with each other, we were exhausted, salt covered and dirty (to say nothing of ingesting far to much sugar) and we would not have had it any other way.

I have run on for far to long at this point so I will save the return as well as the last part of the whirlwind adventure for tomorrow.

the Mister

For the Queen...

2007-07-11T15:45:00.000-04:00

This video made quite the rounds via our fantastic email system, so the likelihood that you have seen it is pretty smokin'.

However, the Queen has not and I am sure there are still one or two of you left that did not either and it certainly bares putting on here.

This is a video about when a three year old is asked about monsters assuming right after watching 'Monster's Inc.'.

(Click twice to view - mild curse word use)

Enjoy! Tomorrow the Mister will be on blog duty. Please stop by to see him.

MichChick

Even the best laid plans....

2007-07-10T11:33:00.000-04:00

The Mister and kids are home safe and sound. They blew in like a storm and the noise level and mess instantly increased.

*sigh*

It was beautiful while they were gone, but it is still wonderful to have them home. My house was not meant for quiet and clean I guess.

After their return, we made sure to run right back out and up north this time. The Mister was ill, the kids are totally sick of each other and we woke up stupid enough to drag the dogs along with us of who BARKED all night Saturday. Ask me how much sleep I got…..

The chicks leave this Saturday, the redheads depart to Grandma’s and the Mister and I will go into a walking coma and lay around doing nothing but grow fatter. I am not sure if it because we spend 11 months a year running from one place to the other or if he and I really are lazy…..but when the kids leave all of our plans fly out the window.

Oh!... And do we have PLANS. Every year, we are going to camp out of the back of our truck, head off east, head off west, and head off south. We are going to New York, Connecticut and Wisconsin (don’t ask).

During the week, we are going to work on the house. Project after project will get done and we will have a wonderful house to sit and gawk upon due our sheer abilities to get stuff done.

We are going to eat sushi, watch movies, go to art galleries, and take in some theatre.

Then the kids leave and we eat cereal, never leave the house, and grow mold. We watch the back of our eyelids, wash dishes when we run out of clean ones and head back to bed.

It is completely horrid and we should be ashamed of ourselves.

MichChick

Options

2007-07-03T10:26:00.000-04:00

I must be one of the few living souls that are working this week. Compliments of being the last addition to the company, my seniority blows dead tuna here.

The house is quiet but CLEAN with the kids gone. The first time they left me for longer than an overnight at a friend’s house, I did not know what to do with myself…so I did nothing. I sat, watched TV, dwelled in misery, and counted the days until their return.

That was then.

I have learned how to spend time inside of my own head and not be afraid of the voices. I have learned that missing my children’s faces is not the same thing as missing them and to not feel guilty if I do not.

I love my children and the Mister to boot and miss seeing their faces and the intimacy that comes with my family. What I do not miss however, is the fighting, whining, messes, schedules, and demands that come with trying to cope with a six person household.

Now when my children vacate my house, I clean. Obsessively. I will clean until my knuckles bleed the first day of their absence and then reward myself by sitting in my clean utopia until they return.

I will only turn on the television late at night and watch only the shows that interests me. I do not require noise to feel content as the silence no longer means bad things to me.

Clothing is optional.

Eating is optional.

Leaving the house is optional.

Everything is optional.

Life is good.

Have a wonderful Fourth of July folks!

MichChick

BLAH.

2007-06-29T11:13:00.000-04:00

I don’t get it.

The more I work out, the more my body demands that I eat. Some kinda crappy circle that is. Anorexic I will never be….not even while I am sleeping.

I am sitting here at work today after having eaten breakfast, STARVING.

Seriously.

I could eat the wrong end of a chicken right now and would have to remind myself to chew.

I have already gnawed my way through my daily allotment of candy and am on to chewing gum to pacify the fact that it is 10:45 am and I still have an hour and fifteen minutes to go.

Know what else? The Mister can eat non-stop, all day, barrels of food and nothing.

Bastard.

He is lucky he is a total hottie or I might have to kill him in his sleep.

My little angels and the Mister are leaving me on Saturday to head off to South Carolina. Not only has my husband saddled himself with our four loud-assed children, but he is also taking two of their cousins. One of whom is only six and still freakishly needy.

Fine.

So the man is a saint.

Have a wonderful weekend and for some of you, a great Fourth of July!

MichChick

Lusky's Lakefront Cottages

2007-06-28T10:12:00.000-04:00

Every year my chicks take off to Arizona to go and stay with their father and the redheads are off to a few week stay with their grandma up north. Prior to this, I run them ragged with all of the things that normal people get to do over the course of a whole summer.

The Mister and I get six weeks at best.

One of the places that we have enjoyed over the years is a little place in Lexington (Port Huron and then turn north) called Lusky’s right on Lake Huron. I stumbled across these cottages when I was surfing the web and found it buried in the Chamber of Commerce for the Port Huron area.

While Lusky’s is not the Ritz or even the Holiday Inn, it does offer a ton. What it lacks in air conditioning, style and snobbery it gains in its quaint, quiet, family friendly and affordable qualities.

It is set up rather old fashioned so that the cabins sit vertically from the beach instead of them all facing it horizontally. While this may upset some of you and cause you to huff, what it does create is a football field size child zone that allows them to roam and run, free.

There are all kinds of outdoor things for them to do here and allows you to show them what being a kid is really suppose to be like. Outside all day, in to eat and back out until sundown.

Then there is the lake itself.

Keeping in mind that this IS one of the Great Lakes, Lake Huron is COLD. Not your “oh, it takes you a while to get use to it” kind of cold. No….this runs the line of “wait until your legs go numb and it will only hurt a little”. Simply put, you never do get use to it….you just stay in long enough to feel the beginning of hypothermia kick in and get out.

With that said, the water is beautiful and clear. It was hot enough to warrant enough trips into the frigid water to make it worth it and the sun rises are breath taking. You can see Canada clearly and the lights on the lake at night are fabulous.

Knowing this, Lusky’s strategically placed to swings right at the top of the beach so that you can sit, swing, enjoy and BREATHE.

A few notes from the bad mommy bin.

As you can see, I trusted one of my chicks when I asked her “did you put on sunscreen” and she looked me in the eye and said “yes”. A GOOD mommy would have checked and then reapplied later.

And then there is the Boy.

These pictures do not quite capture the black rubber residue from the inner tube that he somehow managed to get ALL over his body, face included. For those of you who may not know this, rubber residue does not come off in the shower.

Add to this he is “growing his hair out” and he could have gone out for a part in Oliver Twist and landed it based on his look alone.

I was horribly sad to leave as one weekend never seems like enough. In addition, upon arriving this year I found a “For Sale” sign out front that breaks my heart.

Good bye Lusky’s. We have enjoyed staying with you.

MichChick

Messin' with the buzzed girl

2007-06-27T15:03:00.000-04:00

I do not drink very often.

I reserve the right to do so roughly two times a year, but since I quit smoking, I do not feel the need. Silly that.

I guess it would make sense that I cannot drink without wanting to smoke and since I choose not to smoke, I must choose not to drink as well. Kinda like going poo without peeing. It is just not physically possible.

Anyhoo…..while on vacation over the weekend, I decided to waddle in debauchery and went for a cold Corona. I was at a cabin, on the beach, the day was sunny and we were grilling out.

Picture perfect for a beer commercial if there ever was one.

One beer is all that it took to get my head feeling fuzzy. I apparently have lost the right to claim my adult drinking pass anymore which means I must work my way back up through the ranks starting at the base wine cooler level.

The Mister, Queen Bee and KD found much enjoyment out of my lightheadedness and began making fun when possible. At one point, the Queen Bee became so tickled at my expense, she spit her beer all over me and the food.

Something about me sleeping with Alice Cooper I think.

I know I promised pictures, but if you live here…you KNOW how hot it was yesterday and my little house on the block has not a scrap of air conditioning. Needless to say, I was a basement dweller and none too concerned about pictures.

Thank God for the rain.

Until tomorrow.

MichChick

Alive and Well

2007-06-26T15:06:00.000-04:00

I know...I know.....it has been a few days....and it will have to be one more.

We have been in and out with our summer trips trying to squeeze the life out of it.

Tomorrow....our trip to Port Huron with pictures.

Until then!

MichChick

You Will Respect My Authora-ta!

2007-06-21T14:01:00.000-04:00

Kids fight.

Fine.

I am not foolish enough to make myself believe that mine fight more or less than others, they just DO. I am over trying to make them understand the dynamics of their relationships today will morph into something strong and viable when they mature.

They do not care.

It is interesting to see the differences in HOW they fight from sibling to sibling however. My chicks are relentless pickers with each other. Neither one of them can manage to pass each other without some kind of caddy remark nor will the other let it go unpunished. They pick and pick and PICK…therefore, they spent great amounts of time in their rooms separate from each other.

My redheads are a little more sneaky. They like to tattle and fib about the other to make sure that only ONE person gets into trouble while they make faces behind our backs while we are yelling at the other.

While Em and the chicks get on pretty good and the static between her and the girls is minimal, the Boy is yet another story. Em likes to boss him, Jenna likes to beat him and Robyn generally does OK with him but has been known to get mouthy with him. He retaliates by being as annoying as he possibly can in order to provoke the above behavior, again causing the others to get into trouble and not he.

Last night my chicks were at it again and mommy had had her fill. I generally try to be as “out there” about punishment as possible. Grounding only works sometimes and beating them will get me jail time.

If you mouth off to me I will grab something out of the fridge that is totally gross and make you eat it. Hurt someone’s feelings and you get to write letters of apology. Instead of going to their rooms, I will make them stand in the tub at times. Goof off during dinner and I make you sit in the middle of your bed, on your hands and HUM loud enough for us to hear you.

Last night we had to come up with a new one.

Fight with each other constantly and you get to sit in the middle of the living room floor facing each other and write out lists off all of the things you love about each other. After a half of an hour of writing and I have verified the lists, you then get to sit there and read your list to your sibling and then post it above your bed for future use.

This summer will be a virtual love fest in my house.

Ugh.

MichChick

Politics

2007-06-20T10:04:00.000-04:00

I received a phone call late last night from an extremely intoxicated member of our family asking that I come and retrieve him and his four children because he was not fit to drive.

Keep in mind that at 12:30 at night, I have been blissfully looking at the back of my eyelids for a few hours and comprehend nothing upon waking. I now have to take directions from a drunken person who does not even know where he really is and try not to allow any anger to seep into my voice. Family politics and all.

I end up having to speak to a stranger at his location due to his inability to get beyond “oh…it’s really, really close” and tell me where this mysterious “close” was so that I may come retrieve him.

“Did he say left or right? Go through the stop sign or turn before it?”

Jesus.

I managed to actually get out of bed and leave a voice mail for the Mister to let him know where his wife is headed should anything happen….again trying to keep the anger out of my voice. Husband and wife politics and all.

For some unknown reason, I am unable to find a shirt. I do not know what it is about being woken up in the middle of the night that forbids you from finding your clothing, but there you have it.

Thank the heavens that the Mister leaves his laying around the house in a coy game of 32 Shirt Pick UP, or it would have taken me half the night to find one.

Ripley insists on going. She is not allowing me out of the house without a fight, as midnight runs are unsettling to a neurotic dog so I grab her along for the ride. Maybe I can get her to bite him. That will make me feel a little better.

What?

Amazingly I find the house (with them all out in the driveway, none-the-less) and proceed to be barraged with “drunk talk”.

“Shank chew so much for comin’….I would have driven home but I have these precious (slur) children with me so that is why I called YOU.”

“Look at ‘em Am! Look at that little one comin’! Isn’t she just so precious? I’m stoopid, but I know I should not be drivin’ with these precious kids.”

Why does it take drunken people forever to do anything? Just get in the truck for the love of Pete and stop spitting on me!

It is about this time that Ripley spots a dog circling the truck and thinks its time to go let him know who is boss.

Nice.

Not only must I now herd two drunken adults and their four children into my truck…some of them tripping, no one can manage the seat belts and shutting the truck door just is NOT happening….now I have to wrangle Ripley one-handed while getting scratched to death and keeping the anger from my voice. Starting to think “to hell” with politics all together.

I manage to entertain the drunken people, the precious children and calm Ripley down long enough for a manageable drive to their home. Drop them off….only one managed to fall OUT of the truck….and was home within the hour.

Ripley enjoyed the little outing, four precious children are home safe and two adults were not behind the wheel of a car.

I told them that I was grateful that they called me.

Politics and all.

MichChick

Father Figure.....

2007-06-19T11:07:00.000-04:00

We survived the mighty trip to Michigan’s Adventure Park albeit sunburned (Hey! I used SPF 50, so I tried), exhausted and sore. With that said…….it was soooo worth the trip as we had a fabulous time and could not have picked a better day to go. Sunday was HOT!

Anyhoo….I did miss a few Father’s Day greetings that I wanted to pass along.

First to KD. Although you are not the father of the second tier of nut jobs, we have always reserved this day to celebrate you and will probably continue to do so unless the powers that be smarten up and make a day for you.

You entered into our lives at the most horrific time. All three of us girls were big fat teenage jerks and being a stepparent myself, KUDOS to you for hanging tough through it.

I can only pray to make it as long as you and Queenie have and thank you for being there through arguably, the worst crap ever. I am sorry I was such a brat.

Secondly to the Mister.

When the chicks own father decided that living in another state was too good to pass up and took off, the Mister stepped up to and right over the plate.

Never once has he mentioned it, blinked or faltered. He is a better man/woman than I will ever possibly grow up to be. I thank you for your undying ability to be all things to me and appreciate your willingness to be the “Mister” as if they were your own.

Lastly, to all of you out there that have adapted, adopted and rose above the labels, the stereotypes and the pressure.

We all get to hear about the struggles and trials about being all things Mommy but yet, we rarely get to hear from those of you that take up the challenge of fatherhood. In particular to those off spring that are not of your own biology.

A tribute to you out there as well.

Happy (belated!) Father’s Day!

MichChick

Our Little Adventure

2007-06-15T09:45:00.000-04:00

This Sunday for Father’s Day, our little family will drag our cabin-fevered selves to Michigan’s Adventure Park.

Now, if you have never been I personally recommend it highly. However, there are a few tricks to doing the park right in order to suck the life out of the trip.

One of the most important things is to rent a Cabaña. I understand how completely elitist this sounds and I really am not a snob, but it does make the stay oh-so-much better.

My rationale for spending the money on such a thing?

People in general, are selfish beasts. While the park provides HUGE umbrellas that you could park a semi under, your friendly neighbors will cram all of their crap up under them taking up every square inch of precious shade and then they will TAKE OFF for hours on end.

I understand the need and the want to do this. I suppose the desire for shade outweighs any manners our mothers have ingrained in us since birth.

With that said……if you are not going to be there for half of the day, I do not feel that you should be such a pig. We ALL paid to be in the park and should have equal opportunity to enjoy amenities.

*Sigh*

Anyways, the Cabana alleviates any need to get upset about it. You rent it….it is YOUR space no matter what John Q. Jerk over there wants to do about it.

Secondly, you should do the water park first. Oh sure….upon entering the park you can jump on Zack’s Zoomer and the Corkscrew as they are located right there at the entrance. After a few stomach hurling runs, head off to the water park. This does two things.

One….the majority of people will wait until high noon or later to go to the water park and clog up the rides first. You will be doing the opposite.

The water park is a metropolis of water rides and mind numbing thrill rides. You will not be lacking in the excitement part just to be in the water park.

They even have a ride that will ram your swimsuit so far up you-know-where it your dentist will have to remove it.

Secondly, the park gets HOT during the summer months. It is better to do the rides portion of the park after three in the afternoon if you can wait that long. The sun has begun its decent and you should be ready to leave the water at this point.

If you have been smart enough to NOT get sun burned, you can now take your water soaked self over to the other side of the park.

The roller coasters rival bigger amusement parks and there is plenty for everyone of every age to do.

Lastly…..if you do not wish to participate in overpaying for a hot dog and water….pack a cooler and leave it in your trunk. You can leave the park with a hand stamp, go to your car (the parking lot is relatively close) and eat without a second mortgage.

Other random thoughts? Swim shoes. The wave pools have bottoms like glass and will make a mess out of your feet. In addition, the concrete can get rather hot, so they are a bonus to have if you can find them.

Fanny packs. I know, I know…..I said fanny pack. But hey…..this is not about looking cool. Looking cool got left behind with my flat stomach and bachelorette pad.

Sorry Mister.

Enjoy your weekend and have a wonderful Father’s Day!

MichChick

Lunatic Fringe.....

2007-06-14T10:29:00.000-04:00

It began with only the Queen Bee.

Memories of my childhood and all of the fun and trouble that my sisters and I got into, I feel saddened that she was not able to experience siblings herself……but the Clan had to start somewhere and we started small.

The Queen Bee spawned Pee, Shell and myself and the Clan went from just one single lunatic into many and the world grew a little smaller.

I will admit to having one of the best childhoods EVER. I am not sure where that statement fits into all of this, but I needed that to be said.

We were dirt poor and grew up in one of the hickest, backwards, horribly unprogressive (there really is no way to describe it and sound educated, sorry) little town this fine state has to offer and we all managed to become decent, forward thinking people in spite of it.

How that woman (with NO MISTER) managed, stayed semi-sane and a solid member of society is beyond me. Say what you will about the Queen and her Clan, but being a kid rocked out-loud and I have her to thank for that.

Pee, Shell and I spawned five more lunatics and the Clan started to actually look like one. Men came and went, but the girls all stuck and the Queen added two more for luck. Sum and Mad joined our group and thrived in the utter lunacy of it all and the world grew smaller still.

The world sighed and relaxed for a while.

Not to settle for long or be outdone, the new horizon brought more than one. The Clan expanded to receive its first boy with his redheaded sister….Oh! Let us not forget the Mister.

To end this chapter for the time at hand, two new wee little members just joined the Clan. The men have stuck; we have progressed and become quite the little family from one to a ton.

Congratulations to the new graduates. Your life as a nut has only just begun.

MichChick

Let’s hear it for the boy…..

2007-06-12T20:44:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was my birthday and I swore I would never be one of those people that stated some crap like: “Oh, its just another day”….but it happened. I did not say it out loud ‘cause I am not ready to join that club, but I guess the tides have finally shifted on me and it just did not FEEL like my birthday had arrived.

Neat.

I have always loved birthdays. They are the only day that you are given license to be a self-centered egotist and those around you support it, feed it and give it. It’s the “all about you” day. Have it. Live it. Love it.

Birthdays are something to be anticipated and enjoyed. Not “ho-hummed” or worse yet…..shunned. You HAVE to turn another year older. You cannot cancel your membership to the birthday club, it renews without your permission…so why not enjoy the stink out of it?

So how bad does it blow dead tuna, that my middle-age crappy crap is going to settle in and make it “just another day”? Blah.

Thanks to all that is Good and Holy, I have the Mister who made sure that my birthday rocked out loud and I couldn’t be more thrilled to have let him.

He pulled off a picnic in the park, complete with table cloth, grill, cake, presents and my favorite food for lunch. All of this on only five hours of sleep and four loud, fighting crabby little people.

Love you Mister and thank you for you.

You single-handily restored my faith in birthdays.

MichChick

Room to breathe.....

2007-06-12T20:28:00.000-04:00

I am not sure what it is about the end of the school year for those punks, K-12 that makes academia wake up from its coma and shove every event it could dream up into the last two weeks.

I have been to choir concerts, graduations, recognition nights, tournaments, field trips and some kind of recorder molestation that came under the pretense of a band concert.

Jesus.

That does not cover the end of a soccer season that has already depleted me of every spare moment of my time just with practices and games. No…..we had to do “tournaments”. Tons of them….and try not to think of NOT letting your kid go with their team or you will get parental stink eye from the perfect parents that can manage and not complain.

Silly you. Did you actually think you were going to get to sleep in on Saturday?

Ugh.

Thanks to all that is Good and Holy it is finally over. You can breathe. You can sleep in, make plans, tend to your garden that looks completely horrid by now, read and sit still.

Summer is here.

Aaaaahhhh………..

MichChick

It's My Party.....

2007-06-12T13:19:00.000-04:00

Rumor has it that I turn 36 today.....so I am taking the day off of blogging to go hang with some pretty cool little people and the Mister.

Life doesn't get any better than that.

MichChick

Life in Motion

2007-06-08T11:18:00.000-04:00

When I first became a parent and then moved my butt back to Michigan in 1996, my mother (at the time living a very posh life) would always NAG me about all of the various things that I was doing wrong, too much or too little of and how utterly cluttered and messy my house was.

Keeping in mind at this point in her life, the last time she had the pleasure of sleepless nights, formula upchuck, diaper stench, BARNEY and her own version of Toys-R-Us in the living room was 25 years prior.

Maybe she forgot.

Maybe she was not able to recall the sheer will that it takes a mother of a 1 ½ yr. old and a baby of nine months to get everyone fed, clean, napped and ALIVE every single damn day. If I happened to not care if my floorboards are spotless and all of the toys are put in their proper spot…..the earth would indeed, not end because, no one but SHE really cared. I no longer sterilized everything from the cupboards down and occasionally, I put cereal in the baby's bottle.

Shame on me.

Someone should have came to my house and revoked my mommy pass and taken my poor, poor children away to live in the land of clean and sane.

Fast-forward three years and after countless comments like:

“You know…..all of that toy clutter in the corner is the first thing that people see when they come into your house”

“If your children do not learn how to eat properly at the table instead of like monkeys, no one will invite you over for dinner”

“You know…if you just cleaned ONE room a day, you could keep up”

“If you just bought diapers every time you went to the store, you would never run out”

And my all time favorite…..

“You yell too much”

The Queen Bee went and decided to become a Foster Parent.

Fine.

I am not sure what THAT was about, but hey…..what ever puts the spring in your step each day and keeps you from nagging me….I am ALL for it.

Being the baby and the brat of the Clan of Nut Jobs at the time, I rebelled against her when she decided that it was time to adopt her foster children. I willingly admit acting like one hell of a spoiled snot at the time and hope that I am not held to it for the rest of my natural life on earth.

That is until the actual life of her having a three and four year old (amazingly, roughly the same age as MY chicks were) straight kicked her in the ass.

I cannot begin to tell you the sheer JOY that radiates out of me and the other two eldest nut jobs when we go to the Queen’s home and find utter chaos.

“What’s that all over your floor Mom?”

“What in God’s name is that SMELL?”

“Why are you yelling?”

“You know mom….if you just clean ONE room each day, you could keep up”

Life comes full circle. It always does.

Therefore….try to be careful of the crap that falls from your lips as there will come a day in your future when it will come back to haunt you.

I love you Mom and KD..........I do.

Have a wonderful weekend!

MichChick

What?

2007-06-07T10:13:00.000-04:00

I have so much to say about this and nothing to say all at the same time......There's a first.

******************************************************************
LOS ANGELES, California (CNN) -- Paris Hilton was freed from jail Thursday morning, just three days after she began serving what was to be a 23-day sentence for violating probation, according to celebrity Web site TMZ.com.

TMZ.com quoted what it called "unimpeachable sources" saying Hilton left the Century Regional Detention Facility in Lynwood, California, early Thursday.

The Web site said L.A. County Sheriff's Department would hold a news conference at 7 a.m. Pacific time (10 a.m. Eastern) to discuss her release.

Hilton checked into the facility Sunday night to begin serving a sentence for violating probation in an alcohol-related reckless driving case. The sentence, originally 45 days, was reduced to 23 for various reasons, including good behavior.
*******************************************************************

Apparently, her lawyer states that they didn't want her to get a "staph infection" so she HAD to be released.

I promise not to say another word about it.

MichChick

It's Not Easy Being Green

2007-06-06T10:21:00.000-04:00

On Easter day 1970-something, the Queen Bee got Shell and I our very own Green Machine’s.

We were the only kids in the neighborhood to have them while all of the upper crusties had Big Wheel’s and trust me, they tried in vain to act elitist about it.

Whatever.

The Big Wheel’s front tire would wear out in no time and most of the kids ended up wheel-less unless they were willing to peddle those things (with no tread, so they would spin out for forever) with the wheel cracked and an awful bumpy ride.

Not the Green Machine.

This thing was a powerhouse of speed and sheer turning radius that would allow you to spin out with complete control. The back tires where set low and wide to allow you to take corners without spilling like you would on that crappy Big Wheel.

IN ADDITION, its front tire never wore out because they manufactured it with thicker plastic.

There was also something about the way that they designed the pedal to little leg ratio (hey, I am not an engineer, so the actuality of it is not on me) which allowed you to pedal like, four times faster than the Big Wheel too.

Needless to say, Shell and I were the baddest, fastest little punks in the neighborhood.

My only complaint as a young child would be it was GREEN, which was so a boy color, while the other little girls got to have their Big Wheels in pastel colors.

Shell and I had to get beyond the “that’s a BOYS bike” crap before we could fully appreciate the sheer power and abilities our Green Machines had.

However, because Shell was a year and nine months older than me and meaner than I will ever become in this lifetime......she would pedal super-fast and RAM me in the back of my Green Machine. I am shocked that I am able to walk from the sheer trauma to my spine at such an important age.

Anyhoo…..the whole reason for this little trip down nostalgic lane? Huffy has manufactured a completely new Green Machine for the kids of today to enjoy. A few years too late for my brood to enjoy, but exciting all the same.

A possible drab ending…..maybe…......until I found THIS.

A Green Machine for adults with a load limit of 225 lbs!

Life is sweet.

MichChick

Something to laugh about....volume two.

2007-06-04T19:22:00.000-04:00

Brian Regan happens to be one of my absolute favorite comedians. I have included a clip (suitable for work viewing) and if you like him well enough, you can find the full 54 minute version of his act here.

As always, you have to click on it twice to get it to play.

Enjoy!

MichChick

Middle School Choir Concerts part Duex

2007-06-04T15:48:00.000-04:00

Ok….some of you will say that I have something against Middle School Choir Concerts in general. I do not. I myself sang my heart out in the back row of the mobile bleachers for my mother to adore and ramble on about how “that’s MY child”.

With that said, I am sure the Queen Bee has a different perspective on it as she was the one that had to sit through all three of us with our various extra curricular activities, and we had many.

It must have been painful for her now that I think about it, ‘cause Shell and Pee do not possess nearly the skills that I do.

Anyhoo….we arrived per the usual madness of it all with nowhere to sit except way up in the upper balcony that made you feel woozy when you looked over the barricade. Of course, it was hotter than necessary due to the school’s refusal to grant air conditioning to us poor simple folk.

(Please keep in mind that all pictures were taken from two blocks away, so I do apologize for the horrid quality of the focus.)

Here is a picture of where we were sitting by the LIGHTING guy……way up in the balcony somewhere near nosebleed and a little to the right.

Ok…the lights go down and first up is this guy……

My daughter assures me that he is quite normal and an awesome instructor. Looks like this could be an interesting night after all.

The fifth graders file up on stage and do some pretty good renditions of music from the fifties complete with a few dance routines, poodle skirts and are really too cute for words. I can hear most of it and succeed in making sure my comments stay INSIDE of my head.

They file off stage and up come the sixth graders along with my sole purpose for being here this evening…..my offspring (orange shirt). She is looking rather embarrassed but vain all at the same time and standing next to a boy, which makes her even more giggly.

Neat.

When did that happen? When did my daughter turn into a giggly teenage-wannabe?

The sixth graders were assigned the task of the sixties and seventies music complete with tie-dye shirts, peace signs, big hair and remarkably “flare jeans” that use to go by the name bell-bottoms.

At this point, my bone straight hair is beginning to curl from the heat and humidity from the steam bath of human sweat. I haven’t been able to hear a song clearly due to the thick cloud of heat and I am pretty sure that the PA system is no longer working.

Did they just sing Free Bird?

Down they go and up comes the seventh graders and the night is nearing its end.

Good LORD! Are those seventh graders or college students? What do they FEED these kids here?

I am pretty sure that they sang renditions from the eighties. I cannot be sure because I couldn’t hear anything anymore, it was way too hot and something had begun to smell. I needed to get out of there…..soon.

Concert is over! The cattle begin to file out in a mad rush to the exit doors. I had to keep the boy close so that he wouldn’t get trampled in the stampede.

I took a picture of the crowd to share with you and you know WHY it is all fuzzy? Because the cattle behind me were bumping, shoving and behaving badly.

It is at this point that my inner child’s temper rears it head to my adult half and we have to make a decision. Shove back? Dirty look? Nasty comment? Or grow up and ignore it?

Sometimes I HATE being mature.

To end this blog, I wanted to give you a peek into my world. Here are my precious little angles expressing their glee over getting some fresh air.

Two of my chicks wanted this to be the equivalent of the cover of Teen magazine and caught wind of the Boy not cooperating.

Justice is swift in our family.

Until tomorrow!

MichChick

Being Mommy

2007-06-01T10:13:00.000-04:00

With the birth of a new wee nut to the Clan, it brings to mind many of the trials and memories from being a new mommy myself. Babies are just so TINY that it is hard to believe that we are ever able to handle them without breaking them in half.

When my first chick was a wee nut herself, I was terrified to give her baths. That contraption that you are suppose to put into your sink was much too awkward for me and something about getting a bath always made her go poo.

No thanks.

I was fragile enough with my overactive gag button as it was….I did not need any help in being grossed out, so I used a towel and the counter top until her umbilical cord finally fell off. After that, her dad and I would just hop in the tub with her and that is how baths went for months.

When my little wee nut grew into a baby nut of four months, her dad was upstairs doing the nightly bath routine with her while I was downstairs tending to a million other things.

A high-pitched, girl-like scream broke the silence of the air and it was with sheer terror that her dad screamed my name. With a buzzing in my ears, blood pumping and my breath completely stopped, I ran as fast as I could up the stairs to see the horrific trauma. In a matter of seconds, I had in my mind that my precious baby had stopped breathing, hit her head or was mysteriously bleeding from somewhere.

It was with those thoughts that I broke through the bathroom door to find her dad, sitting in the tub still, holding her naked self in the air……feet dangling and with a huge grin on HER face. Her father, bug eyed and hysterical, screamed at me to come and “get the baby!”

Never one to freeze in a situation, I darted over and grabbed her and discovered what the earth shattering, horrific thing that could possibly make this grown man scream like a girl, was.

My baby had apparently gone poo in the tub and it was making its way toward her father….. (please insert the background music to JAWS here for effect). I never knew that was all it took to turn a rode-hard man into a cackling screaming meme, but there you have it folks.

Just so you know….I was not kind enough to refrain from laughing hysterically at him.

Have a good weekend!

Monday will have the latest choir concert (with photos).

MichChick

Wee Nut

2007-05-31T08:22:00.001-04:00

Introducing the newest member to the Clan of Nut Jobs.

She weighs 7lbs. 6oz., 20 1/2 inches long and her mother pushed a total of four minutes. That's right....I said FOUR minutes.

She is totally beautiful, likes to look around a ton and doesn't really fuss much.

Kudos to her Mother and to Shell's half of the Clan.

Congrats!!!!

MichChick

New Edition

2007-05-30T09:36:00.000-04:00

Shell's daughter is in the hospital at the time of this writing, preparing to bring another Nut into our little Clan.

What does this mean to you?

It means that this is it for the posting today as I must go and join the girl power at the hospital to welcome our new little one.

Tomorrow....pictures of the new nut and my version of yet another middle school quior concert that we attended last night. (*giggle*)

Until then!!!

MichChick

Holiday Weekends..

2007-05-29T08:27:00.000-04:00

All right….all right…I took the holiday weekend off. Jeez…….

I, of course, over did it yesterday in my yard. Yet another sign of my impending senility or insanity…call it what you will.

The Mister and I had plans and then not and then had them again. We ended up doing as much of nothing as we could squeeze into three days. The weather basically blew dead tuna, so it is not as though we did nothing on too much purpose.

Besides, sometimes…..you have to just sit and breathe.

All four kids are home for the week and the noise level is back up to its unnaturally loud pitch. I thought it would be cute to get our dog, Boy Wonder, some squeaky dog toys in the shape of a small soccer ball and lived to regret it. I am not even sure he let it out of his sight long enough to eat and he drove us nuts with the incessant whining for someone to throw the stupid ball.

I would be willing to wager that he would give back to God his favorite body part for opposable thumbs.

I heard somewhere that if you have a pimple that you should put honey on it and that something in the honey will zap it out of existence. Ok…I took on this little yummy piece of advice due to a goiter that blew out on my chin and ended up with something that looks like a rug burn instead.

Personal note: put the honey on ONLY the pimple and do not allow it to ooze onto any other skin. It apparently burns after a while giving your skin a nice red glow akin to a second-degree burn. Too sexy.

Damn good thing I am married.

So…to begin the week, I welcome it with muscle spasms, bruising from Lord-knows-how, scratches from the roses, one messed up looking chin and I am out of coffee.

Blah.

MichChick

A Queen Bee Birthday

2007-05-24T08:44:00.001-04:00

Today is the Queen Bee's birthday.

The mother and matriarch of the Clan of Nut Jobs turns 63 today (I'm sure she is THRILLED that I am posting her age).

To the most wonderful, strong and wise woman this side of the Mississippi....

Happy Birthday MOM!

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Enjoy your day!

MichChick

Laughing Babies

2007-05-23T10:22:00.000-04:00

Feeling moody and fragile today as that wench, Mother Nature, came back to my house. So...you know the drill....I like warm and fuzzy on these kinda days.

Poor Mister.

I challenge you to not smile at the following video. Safe for work viewing and make sure you double click on it to get it to play.

Enjoy the day. I'm off to go see a man about a salt lick and chocolate bath.

MichChick

Alien Mice Form

2007-05-22T13:55:00.000-04:00

We have alien mice in our house that survive on spoons, socks, keys, screwdrivers and scissors.

Yes we do! How else would you explain the strange and steady disappearance of these things?

I think those little bastards are in the back yard with all my girls’ hair ties building a new space ship because they crashed theirs and have been stuck here ever since. I'll bet they melt down all of the pens they have taken from my house to fuel this new spacecraft. Earrings must make wonderful landing gear but they have an aversion to using both because they only ever take one.

My final clue?

The Mister just called me because our broiler pan has gone missing. That’s right. I said BROILER PAN.

If I ever find the little bastards, I am going to hold their leader hostage until I get my good tweezers back.

MichChick

Problem solving

2007-05-22T12:22:00.000-04:00

I do not understand why I am the only one in my household that is capable of making a decision. The size of the decision never matters. It should, but alas….it does not.

Give me a problem and I will have a solution for you and if no solution arises, I will have methods of problem solving in order to come to a feasible solution. It is not a difficult task or skill and all it requires is the willingness to commit to what you decide.

It boggles my brain that there are people on this earth that are incapable of doing this. I realize this will make many folk angry and the other side of the bed will be cold for a few nights, but damn.

I swear by all that is Good, Holy and Natural, that if I have to hear; “what would you like to have for dinner”, “where do you wanna go”, “what do I do with this”, “where does this go” and my all time favorite, “what do you want me to do”, I will simply implode and cease to exist to answer such things.

What if I don’t care? Then what? We get to sit in the middle of the floor staring at each other hoping that the Decision Fairy will come along and bite us in the rear with an “ah ha!” moment?

It does not work like that ‘cause if it did, my tile floor would have permanent imprints from my derriere where I have built a temple honoring such a wondrous Fairy, indeed.

Things have to get done, life has to roll forward and yes, decisions have to be made. Daily. Sometimes lots of times in one day. No one has ever died (that I am aware of) from making a decision. Oh sure, from a consequence from a bad decision, but never from the actual act of it.

Am I ranting? Ok…I am ranting. Needlessly, I am sure, as tomorrow will spin a different light and this will seem minuscule in the big picture of all things called life.

I’m just sayin’. Damn!

MichChick

My Maturity Level....Volume Two

2007-05-21T10:25:00.000-04:00

The Mister and I happen to be proud owners of an Ex-Wife.

I say “we” because since the Mister has been on second shift, she is now mine to contend with. For the last three years, I have been able to just buzz away in the background, throw my two cents at my husband and take off when it comes to all things Ex-Wife-y.

That party is over.

For the most part, she and I get on “OK”. However, when the tides shift and someone needs attention, I bite my tongue, nod my head and move on. It does not have to affect me…she gets what she needs and I get to drive off into the sunset the better person.

That was until the wrong moment, the wrong place, the wrong MOOD and the wrong subject.

In light of this, I got to welcome home my inner child again on Saturday.

Please keep in mind that this is not the side of my personality that is bright, sunny and willing to drive faster than I should. No, this side is spoiled, immature, fussy and more than happy to say things the adult in me would ground me for.

The Mister and the Ex-Wife had a disagreement (the actual disagreement is pointless, you can enter your own version here) that ended up with the Mister being hung up on. Nothing too new about that one, unfortunately.

Until she called back to drag me into the middle of it.

The Mister had gone off to work and the Boy (whom she made cry {on his birthday}, btw) brings the phone downstairs to me because the Ex is on the phone. She begins to launch into her perspective of the argument coupled with saying none-to-nice things about the Mister. I vocalized my unwillingness to participate in such stupidity and got hung up on myself.

Nice.

Know what I had to do? I had to smile at the kids, pretend like she is the greatest thing and the nicest person EVER and eat it to the point that I got gas from swallowing too hard.

This flies in the face of what I wanted to do. Women out there will be able to visualize with me all of the evil things that came to mind and how many different ways they could happen. It took me two whole days to calm down….and yet, she walks.

I guess I get to ride off into the sunset after all.

Happy Monday!

MichChick

Beat Boxer

2007-05-18T09:02:00.000-04:00

I got this today and was so impressed that I feel the need to share.

This guy is a "beat-boxer" (if you will) and the best I, in my small universe, have ever seen.

(double click on video to view)

This is safe for your working environment and again, quite impressive.

Enjoy!

MichChick

Updates

2007-05-17T09:40:00.000-04:00

I have been doing well with the eating and exercising and my clothes no longer stop the blood flow to key parts of my body……so this has to be a good sign. I need to go out and purchase a new scale to update the weight portion.

Our poor scale has been married to a toilet that overflows four times a week and I think the water log has finally fried its ability to do its job.

*******
Apparently Ms. Hilton managed to get half her sentence due to overcrowding and “good behavior” and will be kept away from John Q. Public during her little “stay” at the county jail.

Why bother?

You are going to spend taxpayer money to pamper her jail sentence? Screw it….throw her in a closet and shove food under the door. It will save money and she would not know the difference anyway. And that is all I’ve gotta say ‘bout that.

*******

The cold is finally gone. I still get the pleasure of a runny nose or two during the day, but I will not count it as anything significant. The Mister and Pee are doing much better as well so……..peace through out the land!

*******

The boy’s birthday is the weekend and he innocently asked me to bake him some cookies to bring to school. My inner stepmother demon sprang to life and declared that weekend birthday’s do not get cookies for school.

Nice. Can you say “big fat jerk”?

Needless to say, I will be using my lunch hour to run to the grocery store to pick up the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies ( YES, from scratch! ) and provide cookies for my birthday boy and his classmates.

Don’t you think that at his age, teacher’s flinch when they bring sugar filled sweets to class?

I know I would, but then again…..I’m a big fat jerk.

MichChick

Whatever......

2007-05-16T11:26:00.000-04:00

Sorry gang….I was out yesterday watching the back of my eyelids attempting to overcome the mucus invasion that my family seems to be at war with. Poor Pee has been completely debilitated for weeks and is just now rounding the corner towards health.

Yesterday, I was saturated by my magazines, MSN.com and in other news about how traumatized Ms. Hilton is regarding her looming jail term. One magazine that I subscribe to even went so far as to state that “poor” Ms. Hilton will have to contend with: “lesbian gangs”, “dirty cells”, “substandard food”, etc.

What?

Ok…In general, I try to practice random peace and making stances in my blog is not my thing, but this is truly taking the cake. I will try my very hardest not to continue past the point of: it is a county jail term of 45 days (maybe, if that), not PRISON and least we forget…..she broke the law. Why am I supposed to feel sorry for her again?

Besides, lesbian gangs take at least 90 days to form.

MichChick

Mother's Day footnotes

2007-05-14T10:54:00.000-04:00

We were blessed enough to have a virus straight outta hell blow through our little house this weekend, so I was not coherent enough to blog on Sunday a warm “Happy Mother’s Day” wish to the Queen Bee.

I am very sorry Mom…..promise…..cross my heart.

The Mister and I took some over-the-counter medication yesterday for our lovely sinus junk and it wiped both of us out so hard that I am not sure you could have gotten a pulse for a few hours there. I will not be taking that crap again, blah.

I think that I made a horrific error in judgment as I did get my mother a digital camera for Mother’s Day. Couple this with her desire to use the fine word to express herself and I have more than likely created another blogging monster. Watch out Pee.

The Mister was man enough to get me a treadmill, bless him. Before you completely freak out, I did ask for it. I really had to beg him to get it as he is a firm believer in “gifting rules” from husband to wife, with exercise equipment and/or appliances falling in the big “no-no” category.

Now I can pseudo jog in the comfort of my basement without having to worry about what might be jiggling behind me that innocent passerby’s will get full view of. I will still have to walk Ripley and her Boy Wonder or face a full revolt….but the jogging will be easier.

Other than that folks, it’s Monday.

I, along with every other living soul, detest Mondays. I have nothing in my repertoire that could make today funny or “doable” because Mondays simply blow dead tuna.

Enjoy the week!

MichChick

Pee stains...

2007-05-11T11:00:00.000-04:00

The eldest sister in the Clan of Nut Jobs and I have been blogging for some time now. I thought for sure that when she first started blogging that her tales would be of all things NUNS and the utter lunacy of the parallel world that she occupies.

Problematic of the first-born lunatic in a Clan of many, I guess.

She chose in stead, to elaborate on her fascination of bodily functions that make the younger members of the Clan giggle and the Queen Bee light headed.

I will admit growing up; she had it the hardest out of all of us. Pee was the oldest after all and had to look after Shell and I while trying to be a rotten teenager herself. She got real good and confusing in the 80’s when she dressed like, sang like, looked like and did all things Pat Benatar.

We never made fun of her much for that. We should have and would have, if it were the current day and age, but none the less….we never did.

Besides, out of all of us girls, she looks and acts the most like Queen Bee…so I guess that awards her some grace from the Clan.

Mother’s day is around the corner and while we are blessed that she only produced one offspring, she has turned out to be one hell of a grandmother.

Have a wonderful Mother’s Day Pee. What a great grandma you turned out to be.

Love you.

MichChick

Side Jobs

2007-05-10T14:46:00.000-04:00

A while ago, I had to take massage therapy classes as part of my degree and had absolutely no intention of ever using them. Somehow I was sucked into doing them at first for friends, then for non-friends and then finally, for the yearly music festival that comes into town.

The practice itself makes a nice “side job” as I cannot fathom going ahead and doing them full time. I like to have control over whom I touch and being employed by an establishment does not afford me that opportunity.

When I first started out doing them for the music festival, I was so nervous that I nearly threw up. I was working on the musicians themselves, not the road crew, groupies or festivalgoers. These were people we have all seen and heard and have been touched by bigger and better, I am sure.

My first “famous” massage ever was a member of Hootie and The Blowfish (for storytelling purposes, I will leave out exactly which one). I had a good two hours to get myself worked into a tizzy over touching someone famous and shook through the first full ten minutes of it.

The clarifying moment in time that got me over my nervousness will stay with me until I hit my deathbed. I had just switched down to my client’s thigh/leg and was shoving the sheet up to expose skin. As I was doing this, his “member” fell out.

Now…please keep in mind that up to this point, all of my other client’s had ALWAYS worn some form of panties/boxers. Apparently, this is not how they operate life in the fast lane ‘case this cat was naked as the day of his birth.

I fought the urge to touch it (this is of course, pre Mister time), screamed on the INSIDE and managed to get it put away with the sheet without embarrassing him or myself.

Since that faithful day, I have massaged (most notably) members of ZZ Top, Whitesnake and this guy. Not a stitch of modesty on a single one of them as they all came to my table naked.

It doesn’t faze me anymore.......I don't know if that is good or bad.

MichChick

Something to Laugh About..Volume ONE

2007-05-09T09:04:00.000-04:00

The Mister and I enjoy watching comedic performances and appreciate those that are good and can keep it clean to boot. Not that I find certain language terribly offensive (Lord knows I sure know how to use it), but I feel that it takes more effort and skill to be funny sans foul language.

I would like to share with you some of the ones that the Mister and I enjoy the best and I will let you know if you can listen at work or not. We have all been in a situation where our speakers were turned up, listening intentlly, only to have a string of "office no-no's" come flying out of our computer.

This video is of Jim Gaffigan and many of you may already know his work. This video is clean and suitable for office viewing if your company allows such a thing.

Enjoy!

MichChick

Drama Club

2007-05-07T22:49:00.000-04:00

Ok….so another one of our members is bringing a new little nut into this world and into our tight little Clan. The Clan of Nut Jobs got together for a baby shower this past Saturday to do all things pink and sugary and shower the expectant mother in gifts.

The usual baby shower fodder, right?

Ummm, no. Not with the Clan it sure wasn’t.

We had more drama than a girl's locker room and I was only able to attend for a full ten minutes. I will spare you the melt down details and provide you with the comic humor of it all.

Upon my arrival, you can tell that there has already been some drama as everyone is wearing this face:

Apparently, the mother-to-be was having a horror-mone attack and was spreading some much needed love around to those within a mile radius of her.

Pee must have thought that I was kidding when I told her straight out that I would be posting to my blog when she proceeded to do this:

Yes folks…..that is my lovely, mature, wonderfully classy sister with her belly hanging out in a full “triple dog dare” (Hint, NEVER dare the person with the camera).

Despite all the drama, at least I was having a good time and so was the youngest (to date) member of our Clan.

Isn’t she too cute!

We had to leave due to one more darn game in a long line of soccer games and the drama continued in the car.

Teenagers.

I would rather be hanging out with this guy instead.

I’ll bet he never creates drama.

MichChick

No More Teachers, No More Books...

2007-05-07T09:02:00.000-04:00

School is finally done for the semester…Yahoo! (too bad I still have a thing called a job)

I always struggle with the last couple of weeks in any school semester.... mentally working myself into a tither. I guess that is what makes the end so utterly fabulous. *Sigh*

Maybe it is the memory of school years past that makes it so sweet. I remember being in middle school (even into high school) and having the last day of school be dramatically surreal. The air tasted and looked different from any other day of the year and the excitement buzzed in the air.

I appreciate everyone’s patience and even those of you that complained terribly of my lack of updating. You know who you are and I thank you too.

Here’s to an exciting summer on the horizon and to finally having some free time!

Have a good week!

MichChick

Are you smarter than a 5th grader?

2007-05-01T08:24:00.000-04:00

If you have not been able to pick up on it yet......I love quizzes. Not only do they delay the onset of all kinds of brain funk, a challenging one can be good clean fun.

The following was submitted by one of MichChick readers. Enjoy!

Smarter Than A 5th Grader?

Thank you Suz!

MichChick

Mister Part Deux

2007-04-25T22:53:00.000-04:00

I give the Mister quite a hard time in the big bad world of blogging. While I will try to keep from being overly sappy about it (some of you claim nausea to all things warm and fuzzy) I do think it is time for me to give the poor man his ado.

You see, I get the ultimate pleasure in being married to this Man. I say that in the sense of the definition, not his gender (duh). He is hard on the outside and soft in the inside and well schooled at being both. He knows how to be mean and how to adore, both within the limits of a respectable relationship. (Remind me that I said this later when I want his head on a platter)

He is one of my biggest challenges but one of my greatest gifts and within him I have much pride.

On top of all of this……he is a total hottie. OH! And hey….he’s pretty funny too.

Love you Mister.

Totally.

MichChick

Ms. Smarty Pants to you....

2007-04-25T12:04:00.000-04:00

Ok...so I am short on time AGAIN.

I did however, scour the internet for you to find you something to amuse yourselves with while I scrape my life together enough to entertain, inform and enlighten you once again.

I must warn you, this is not the easiest of quizzes....it is from MENSA after all.

Enjoy!

MichChick

My Red Heads

2007-04-23T16:34:00.000-04:00

There is something inherently different about the redheaded side of my intimate family group, the Mister, included.

For one thing, they are LOUD. I am not sure how or why they are but their vocal levels have superhuman strength and are able to leap through the house at a remarkable pitch. The Mister and I have had many-a-discussion regarding this as he thinks I am insane because all four of our little angels defy noise barriers.

Ummmm. No.

While as a group, our children have been known to make so much noise that scientists have requested testing; the redheads are loud just sitting STILL.

Secondly, they sleep weird. Em has been known to sleep with her knees up under her, bum in the air and completely under the covers. This leads me back to the superhuman thing again because how does she breathe?

The boy is the same way except his sleeping contortions rival anything that an experienced yoga instructor could do AND he does them in his sleep.

Think I am kidding?

I submit to you the following proof. Never mind the fact that I snapped these pictures at the Chicks soccer game, in the middle of the day and with all kinds of people yelling and whistles blowing.

Yes…that is my redheaded daughter under that sweatshirt, all curled in a ball with only the tips of her toes showing. Also note, that before the Boy finally passed out in this position he was eating grass.

I couldn’t be more blessed.

Enjoy the week!

MichChick