Prom 2007

Sunshine is hosting Prom 2007! Woohoo!

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Unfortunately for me, she has scheduled the prom date for May 8th. Since my due date is set for May 10th, I don't believe it would be wise for me to make tentative plans to actually attend Prom. (Especially since I believe my Mother had some strange dream about me falling on my pregnant ass while doing the disco!)

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So sadly, I will NOT be attending the festivities!

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NEVER FEAR!! I will be with you in spirit (unless of course I'm in labor and delivery screaming to Daddy Dearest that this is all his fault!!)

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So the prom festivities for 2007 include posting of old Prom photos, finding a prom date, remembering your favorite prom song, and digging up your old prom stories.

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When it comes to those old Prom photos, I know exactly where they are. Unfortunately, climbing up on a chair and digging a huge box of photos out of the top of the closet are not on the list of top 10 things a pregnant woman should do.

--;-<@Luckily, we have an alternative! I still have in my closet my prom dress from my senior year! Yes! It still fits! As a matter of fact, it still fit me when I was four-months pregnant. Not saying I was fat in high school, just that knit fabrics are very forgiving.

---;-<@So here you have it. My 1998 prom fantasmo made slightly more hilarious by the baby-belly I had around Christmas of last year (No, I was NOT pregnant for my senior prom!) This fabulous number was purchased at some trendy shop in the local mall. Totally psychodellic in nature, it is the exact opposite of what everyone would have expected me to wear. This number came complete with a matching jacket which I detest! I topped the number off with black 6-inch platform heels (shoes I absolutely adored until about a year later when I fell off them and broke the straps as opposed to my ankle).
---;-<@I can't say it was really a "hit" at the prom, but frankly, I didn't give a damn! I love this dress (still do when I'm in that funky-make-your-eyes-hurt sort of mood). I'm all about making statements and this one clearly says, "I think you people pop too much acid so now I'm going to fuck with your minds!" You really have to see this in the fabulousness of strobe lights to really get the full effect, but if you use your imagination, I'm sure you can appreciate its hideous nature!

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As far as the Prom date goes, I'm afraid I'd prove to be quite a wallflower if I was able to attend. Not one to be a drag on others (and not wanting to stand anyone up) I really don't think I'll be needing a date.

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As far as Prom songs go.

Let's see. I attended five proms in "Hickville, U.S.A" so you can bet that Garth Brook's "The Dance" was played at each of them.

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And when it comes to Prom stories...

Funniest Prom moment: Prom 1998.

---;-<@My Senior Prom was a riot. My date couldn't make it, I didn't care. I gave my date's glass to my Freshman girlfriend. I spent the entire night with my two freshman girls and their dates.
---;-<@We went to the After-Prom and had a blast. We waited around to catch breakfast before we headed home. Since my Mom had told us not to cruise around, we decided to stop at a laundry mat. Why? Well what else is there to do in a tiny town at 5 am? We washed our clothes of course!
---;-<@Somewhere in the archives of my misspent youth are photos of me and "Sassy Bear" sitting on a wash machine in leather pants, high heel shoes our bras and her boyfriend's neck tie with our arms around each other and cigarettes in our hands. This laundry mat had a huge picture window that faced out onto one of the main streets in town, but we didn't care in the slightest. We spent the better part of the morning racing around the room in laundry carts and crawling in and out of the washers and driers.
---;-<@At one point Sassy ran outside in her bra to see if there was something funny under the car (this is directly related to a radio commercial I heard earlier that night, and checking under the car became a major past time for well over a week).
---;-<@As far as our bra-parading escapade, it was brought to an abrupt end when it dawned on us that the police car that just drove by may have noticed two shirtless teenagers dancing around in the picture window of the laundry mat. Thankfully, the guys offered up their shirts until our shirts were ready to be removed from the drier.
---;-<@The events ended with a quick breakfast and a Dodge Ram truck (it was red) slamming into the back bumper of my Caddy after I dropped everyone off that morning. Luckily, the only damage was a cracked taillight and a startled teenage girl who was in desperate need of sleep.

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Thus ends my walk down memory lane. Now would someone please go check to see if there is anything funny under my car, because honestly, I'm too fat to do it myself this time (and I vaguely recall slamming my head in the car door not once, but twice when I attempted this on Prom night).

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COME! JOIN THE FESTIVITIES!! YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO LAUGH AT THOSE OLD PHOTOS AND THE CRAZY SHIT YOU DID WHEN YOU WERE A TEENAGER!!

Another Moment to Bore You With

See what happens when a pregnant chick gets sick?

SHE GETS VERY BORING!

Why? Because, I've probably spent 36 of the last 48 hours sleeping in 4 hour intervals. I've read 1.5 books while sweating to death beneath the blankets.

Daddy Dearest has slept the past 2 nights on the couch because 1) he doesn't want to bother me 2) I wake up every few hours 3) his side of the bed has become home to my Kleenex supply and 4) the bedding is covered in cold germs.

While I can actually breathe for the first time in days, I still have that dry sore throat that comes with breathing through your mouth for two days and the hot-flashes have yet to subside. I'm still not sure whether it would be wise to venture down the block to do laundry today.

Meanwhile, my brain is fried and I'm entertaining myself with stupid surveys. Since you are obviously ENJOYING your weekend, while I remain in sick-prego isolation, I feel the need to torment you with this mind-numbing stupidity. This was question #1 on the latest survey I read. It is a post all in itself, and that's okay since the rest of the questions were just more pointless shit like "Do you close your eyes on a roller coaster?"

Have you ever been searched by the cops?
This is actually pretty good.

The date is March 16th, 1999. I have just spent the entire day surrounded by "The Disfunctionals" as we buried my dear great-grandmother who passed away at the ripe old age of 90-something. The back seat of my gigantic blue Cadillac is loaded with 15,000 things I had hauled back from my dorm room over Spring break. The funeral was hilarious, the funeral procession would have brought NASCAR fans swarming, the burial was comical, and the reception included a three-generation game of TAG (you can't help but celebrate a woman who lived as long as she did). So, while it was a sad day for our family, we made the best of it.

Late that night, my boyfriend and his mother got into an arguement and he left the house. I, of course, went to get him and bring him back. I'm driving around in my Caddy wearing a giant sweater that is actually longer than the dress I have on underneith it. I picked my boyfriend up on main street and noticed our local cop was coming down the street. (Let me point out here that this is a town of a couple hundred where everyone knows everyone!)

Knowing my boyfriend needed some time to cool off, we drive out of town. Officer "Fuckhead" follows us. It is very difficult to have a conversation with someone when you are nervously trying to assure that you do not violate any traffic violations with a cop directly behind you. Five miles down the road, I decide to turn around and go back to town. When I turned around, Officer "FH" had traveled far enough down the road that I could no longer see his lights. I headed back into town at exactly the speed limit. To my shock, looking in the rearview mirror, I realize that Officer "FH" has turned around and has caught back up to us. (Speed much?)

More than a little spooked (it's the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere) I slowly drive around town, hoping that Officer "FH" will go away long enough for the two of us to talk. I did not get so lucky. After Officer "FH" has followed us for several blocks, I decide we need to find a well lit place to park the car so he doesn't think we're "fooling around in the back seat" or something. I parked the car in front of a friend's house and we procede to converse.

Officer "FH" circles the block several times. I must tell you this is very distracting when you are trying to calm someone down and convince them to return to their house. I finally came to the conclusion that Officer "FH" must think something strange is going on. To ease the mind of Officer "FH" I decide to go park in front of the other local cop's home. Certainly if I'm parked in front of a police officer's home there will be no doubt that we're not up to anything "fishy".

No dice. Officer "FH" pulls up behind my parked car with his bright headlight shining in my back window (no flashing lights, no siren) and walks up to my window. More than slightly peeved, I barely cracked the window & said hello. He addressed me by my name (okay, so there goes my defending him by saying he wasn't sure who I was) and demanded to see my license and registration.

I promptly asked him what seemed to be the problem.
He informed me that he asked for my license and registration.
I asked why he was pulling me over.
He said he wasn't pulling me over (clearly, the car was already parked).
I then asked him, "Well, then why do you need a license and registration?"
This clearly made him irate (and a bit irrational) as he informed me that "I ASK THE QUESTIONS HERE!! Let me see you license and registration!"
I cussed and gave them to him.
Officer "FH" then asks me to step out of the vehicle which I did.

We go back to his cruiser where he procedes to berate me with a series of 20 questions. "What are you doing? Where have you been? Why are you doing it? Where are you staying? blah blah blah."
I interrupt and say "Why have you been following us for the past hour and a half?"
He gets all defensive. He does the whole "follow my pen" sobriety test.
I continue to ask him why he is bothering us.
He skirts around the question.
I demand an answer for why he is harassing us.
He again yells "I ASK THE QUESTIONS HERE!!!" and procedes to run my plates through dispatch (I later learned he did this over a private airwave as he knew my mother had a police scanner). The minute he pushes his "talk" button, I clearly state "You crooked son of a bitch!" Of course, it was no surprise that my plates came back clean as a whistle.

Let me point out here that I grew up with this man's sons. Literally, I was probably at his house as much as I was my own. And the whole town knew that his son was the BIGGEST drug dealer in town!! So I was more than a little shocked when he had the nerve to ask if he could search my car!! "Excuse me?" He asked again! I'm practically laughing at this point.

I really wanted to ask him if his son had been in my car lately, but instead I said (and I quote), "If you really want to search through the two tons of shit I've brought home from college, you just get your happy ass out there and do it! But let me out of this fucking car!"

He agreed. I stood at the trunk of my car and my boyfriend stood at the hood of the car, while Officer "FH" procedes to try and search the back seat of my two door Caddy.

Finally fed up with this whole matter, I decided to take action. I reached into my coat pocket and retrieved my cell phone. It's about 2 am... this is so NOT going to be pretty!

I begin typing in numbers
... 3-2-1 ...
(Officer "FH" looks out back window and sees me with phone!)
... 5-5-5 ...
(Officer "FH" bangs his head on the roof of my car in a desperate hurry to get out of my vehicle!)
... 4-3-7-2 ...
(Officer "FH" is standing in front of me returning my license and registration!)
... My finger poised on "SEND" he asks one last question, "How old are you?"
(Think back now, had my license, has known me for the past 6 years, and his daughter-in-law is practically my sister only 2 weeks younger than me!)
I rolled off a good old military-style answer, complete with "Sir" and a crappy sallute to honor his 3 military children who aren't drug dealers!
Officer "FH" storms off to his cruiser and I pushed "SEND" to call MOM!!

Needless to say, Officer "FH" and my Mother do not get along in the first place. Even Cletus thinks the man is a worthless piece of crap. My Mother was not in the slightest bit amused by all of this, even less so considering she got woke up in the middle of the night after spending the day at a funeral.

The following morning the local Sheriff recieved a very heated explaination of why his Deputy was a major fuckhead and what legal actions she would take if he ever pulled something like this again with HER DAUGHTER! She further explained that should an officer in this county attempt to pull HER DAUGHTER over again, she had instructed her to call 9-1-1 and drive to the nearest police station.

Two days later, a State Patrol officer arrived at our home (per our request) to search my vehicle for any illegal substance that needed to be removed. Nothing was found and I am happy to announce that I never again had to deal with a police officer from that county again.

The moral of the story is:

"Crooked Cops should NOT fuck with MEAN-ASS Women and their Kids!"

Now see... that was bearable, if not slightly amusing. Stay tuned for more
"BORING-I'M-SICK-CRAP"
in the near future.
*ACHOO*

In Pursuit of BOREDOM!

As I yet remain congested, and over-all feel like crap, I am continuing my boycot of all things funny for yet another day.

So in a desperate search for boring blog material, I have searched Myspace message boards for stupid pointless crap! To no surprise, I found plenty of it, and will now bore the hell out of you with my mindless dribble.

Let the pointless droning begin:

Where were you 3 hours ago?
I was asleep under my covers practicing my newest "lose weight quick" scheme of sweating out a cold.

Who are you in love with?
Well Daddy Dearest of course!

Have you ever eaten a crayon?
Eaten a what? You're kidding right? No! To my knowledge I have never had the urge to chew on, let alone actually swallow, an artificially colored stick of wax!

Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?
Hmm... A spray can of lysol, an ink pen, a cigarette lighter, and an old journal.

When was the last time you went to the mall?
March 30th. I slipped in the back door of Sears to pick up a Smile Saver card at 50% off, and then I quickly slipped back out to my car and came home. Have you seen the mallrats these days? They're some scary people!

Are you wearing socks right now?
Ha! Nope. You're lucky I have underwear and a shirt on!

Do you have a car worth over $2000?
No, but the baby does! And Daddy Dearest does! I don't mind though, I've stolen the baby's car for the next umpteen years anyway!

When was the last time you drove out of town?
Last Tuesday we drove out to look at a house we want to buy.

Have you been to the movies in the last 5 days?
No, the last movie we saw in the theater was Premonition

Are you hot?
Currently, no... give me a few minutes, I'll have a hot-flash!

What was the last thing you drank?
A glass of milk.

What are you wearing right now?
A grey, long-sleeved, night shirt and underwear! They're WHITE if you must know!

Do you wash your car or let the car wash do it?
I let Daddy Dearest do it.

Last food you ate?
Cheese and crackers... but a bagel is looming in the near future.

Where were you last week at this time?
Probably right here. Sundays are pretty dull for me.

Have you bought any clothing items in the last week?
No, the last thing I bought was some bandanas a few weeks ago.

When was the last time you ran?
Pregnant chicks don't RUN!! They don't remember when they last RAN!! They don't think they've ever RAN in their entire lives!!

What's the last sporting event you watched?
Part of a NASCAR race on April 15th while we were visiting family.

What is your favorite animal?
Doggies!!!

Your dream vacation?
A Carribbean Spa Resort!

Last person's house you were in?
Besides my own? We were in a strangers house last week looking to buy it. Before that, I'd guess Daddy Dearest's brother's house.

Worst injury you've ever had?
Probably cracking my head open when I was 7.

Have you been in love?
Several times

Do you miss anyone right now?
Of course I do. I always miss people when they aren't around, and since a lot of people aren't around very often, I miss a lot of people often.

Last play you saw?
Oooh... probably "The Importance of Being Earnest" in 1998 at the outdoor ampitheater in Spring Green, Wisconsin.

What is your secret weapon to lure in the opposite sex?
I never was one to go "fishing" for a man.

What are your plans for tonight?
Sleep, Internet, Television, Sleep, Medicine, Bath, Sleep, Wash the sick-germs off the sheets if I decide I'm really feeling better, and Sleep MORE.

Who is the last person you sent a message to on Myspace?
My baby sister, wishing her a happy birthday!

Next trip you are going to take?
Well there's a doctor's appointment tomorrow. A baby due soon. But those are just a trip into town. I guess the next "actual trip" will be to Nebraska to visit my Crazy family (at least those I'm speaking to at the time!)

Ever go to camp?
Yep. 4-H camp a couple of times. An electrical camp (not as boring as it sounds). An academic camp (again, not boring at all). And then I was a 4-H camp counselor.

Were you an Honor Roll Student?
YEPPERS!

What do you know about the future?
Everything will be OKAY!!

What do you want to know about the future?
How much longer I have to carry this wrecking ball around on my stomach?

Are you wearing any perfume right now?
HAHA!! No! I've been sick! I probably smell like YARD ASS!!

Are you due sometime this year for a doctor's visit?
Matter of fact I've got one scheduled tomorrow. If I don't kick this cold before morning, I'll have two scheduled tomorrow.

Where is your best friend?
Which one? One's doing yard work & watching bulls, one's at work, and the other is probably "trolling"

How is your best friend?
Between a "rigged" NASCAR race and problems with a "mechanic" I'd guess their all in pretty crappy moods.

Do you have a tan?
LMAO... My natural skin color verges on transparent. Now figure that I'm pregnant and Mother Nature has not decided if it's Spring or Winter yet. What exactly is a tan?

What are you listening to right now?
The water in the aquarium, the clickity clack on keyboard keys, and the voices in my own head.

Do you collect anything?
FROGS!! And junk!! Old bottles!! More Junk!! And dust bunnies!

Who is the biggest gossiper you know?
My grandmother!

Last time you got stopped by a cop or pulled over?
Me personally? It's been a long time. I'm a very careful driver because I figure I'm WAY over due for a ticket of some sort.

Have you ever drank your soda from a straw?
Why yes! Everytime I go through the drive-thru.

What does your last text message say?
"Hey sweetie, can't talk bc Ive got a nasty cold, but want 2 wish U a fabulous HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Love U bunches & tons. Stay out of trouble, Im 2 fat 2 bail U out." Sent it to my baby sis a few hours ago.

Do you like hot sauce?
I like mild sauce. I prefer not to have flames shoot out of my mouth, but I can handle some "heat" depending on what I'm eating it with.

Last time you took a shower?
Do you realize how much energy it takes to stand up and bathe all these extra inches? I haven't taken an actual shower in months. But I took a bath Friday night, and I'll take another one tonight once Daddy Dearest gets home to help me out of the tub.

Do you need to do laundry?
How did you know? Are you spying on me? There are clothes to wash and bedding to wash and here I am with a cold. It'll get done tonight or tomorrow.

What is your heritage?
English-Irish-German-Scottish-Swedish... aka Heinz 47... oh, there may be some Cocker Spaniel in there if you check my biological father's family tree closely enough.

Are you someone's best friend?
I sure hope so.

Are you rich?
HAHAHAHAHA! Sure! I'm vacationing on my yacht in the Carribean as I type this!

What were you doing at midnight last night?
I was popping some cold medicine, checking my email one last time, and curling up on the couch to wait for Daddy Dearest to get home from work.

Okay, you can WAKE UP now! I'm finally done. I know! You were sick of the mindless dribble ages ago. But you know what? I don't care! That's what you get when I get sick! WHY? Because I'm a big, fat, miserable, sicky and I want to WHINE about it! Why? Because I hate being sick! I hate everything about sickness! I hate it! And I'm a big, fat, miserable, sicky, WIMP about it!! So, DEAL WITH IT!!

Have I mentioned I have a hangnail that hurts, I ran over my toe with the chair, my sinuses could put Niagra falls to shame, the baby has her big toe in my spleen, and the doctor is going to check my "tonsils" tomorrow?

That's right! I'm whining! You're tired of it! I DON'T CARE!! Go sit on your porch and sniff your yard ass, have a Mike's hard lemonade, and shoot a sheep or something!!

I'm going to sit here in my own miserable (have I mentioned FAT?) self-pity and POUT!!

I WANT MY MOMMMMMMMMMMIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

*ACHOO*

*rubs snotty Kleenex on post*

HAHA!! See how you like it! I have officially CONTAMINATED you!!

ENJOY!

Haha... very funny! Now take it back DAMNIT!!

Dear Higher Power With a Sick Sense of Humor:

Okay, I must admit I had to laugh when you decided to bless us with this child. The incredible irony of the situation was completely hilarious. I've had many laughs over the fact that my ex was unable to achieve this feat in three years of marriage, while Daddy Dearest managed it in less than a year. I must admit, waiting until we started our birth control pills only added to the hilarity.

Always being one to laugh in the face of the unexpected, I found further humor in the fact that Daddy Dearest's family is entirely Catholic and we have no intentions of marriage in the near future.

Normally, I am the first to commend you on your sense of humor. Back to back cases of strep throat, while unpleasant, baffled the doctors and therefor made me laugh.

I've even reached a point where I can laugh at the inappropriate timing when it comes to my family's "disfunctional" falling out.

I must confess though, that I have finally lost all patience with you and DO NOT find your latest joke to be in the least bit funny.

Oh yes, I'm a hilarious person made even more hilarious by the giant wrecking ball that protrudes from my abdomen and makes me waddle like a penguin everywhere I go. It is absolutely hysterical that I can no longer get out of the bath tub on my own, let alone bathe and shave various parts of my enlarged form. You're more than entitled to laugh at my current state of exhaustion and the fact that you've made it clear to this child that she does not need to make preparations to evacuate her current residence in the near future. I have no problem being the brunt of these ridiculous jokes.

HOWEVER,

I do not think it is in any way humorous that you decided to bless me with a full blown head cold, complete with nasty sinus drainage, headaches, hot-flashes, and sleepiness at this point in the pregnancy! Was it really necessary to INCREASE my state of discomfort and misery? Were you not laughing hard enough as I try to rolly polly my way out of bed each morning? Was it not humorous enough for you to just sit back and watch me try to put socks on?

YOU ARE A SICK INDIVIDUAL!!

So you've had your laugh. One last DIG at my overly miserable expense! I now DEMAND that you TAKE IT BACK!!

Until you decide that the ninth month of pregnancy is sufficient laughter for you, I will be boycotting your existance. There will be no more late-night seances, no more sacrificing of goats, no further spreading of your sick but humorous gospel! I am through doing your evil bidding until such time that you see to relieve me of this unnecessary cold.

NOT SO FUNNY NOW IS IT?

And furthermore, I will demand that all who love me also restrain from serving your horrible whims. There will be no more shooting of sheep, no more burying children in shallow graves, no more laughing at the expense of trolls, and no making fun of life's minor inconveniences. Until I am in a more healthy state of non-congestion, I demand that Blogland become BORING!!

Anyone who insists on posting something that will amuse your sick sense of humor will have to answer to my sick state of mind. My wrath will be unbearable. I will travel Blogland sneezing on everyone's sites. I will refuse to use Kleenex when posting comments. I will not wash my hands before I type. I will spread your nasty headcold all over Blogland to any and all who worship your humor.

Maybe if all of the bloggers are sick and can no longer feed your cruel amusement, you will see fit to relieve me of my illness and allow me to enjoy the remaining misery of pregnancy congestion free!

Totally not amused & seeking revenge,
Ellies Mommie

For Chris!

Dear Officer,

If you are reading this, then my dear blogger friend Chris has been carted off to jail after her latest "break down." As you further your investigation of today's events, please comsider the following:

• Chris has recently been adopted into a highly disfunctional family. I firmly believe that this may have contributed in some way to her highly unstable manner, thus provoking her recent actions. Please take this into consideration. It is very hard to distinguish "right" from "wrong" once you get wrapped up in the chaos of this mess.
• Chris was recently tagged to write a post about the letter "H". Hell, homocide, hypocrite and hysteria all begin with "h". Forming logical thoughts entirely out of words that begin with "h" can definately make one "halucinate" and find it "hard" to think in a logic manner.
• While you may believe the teenage boy to be an "innocent" victim of these events, I can clearly see that Chris was the true victim. "The Boy" was clearly distraught that Chris implied he "go comando" and chose to exact his revenge by attempting to stage an unfortunate "housecleaning accident" that would bring about her unfortunate demise. I seriously believe that Chris's actions were in SELF DEFENSE. It was either him or her and she wasn't about to wait around for his next attempt.
• Also keep in mind that this teenage boy was tampering with some seriously dangerous chemicals. From my experience, teenagers are dangerous around things as simple as "root beer" and there is no telling what they might do under the influence of garage cleaner!
• It is also evident that Chris's state of mind was clearly "blurred" by the toxic chemical reaction that was melting her tile floors. The fumes made it difficult to see through running eyes and choking fumes. I suspect that Chris's blog was simply a innocent venting that turned tragic when she mistook her "grounded teenager" for a burglar. Simply a case of mistaken identity and coincidence I'm sure!

As you can see, today's acts were committed in complete innocence (or instability) and Chris should not be held accountable for her actions at the moment. Clearly, many factors were involved and this was not just a simple case of homocide. Please, be certain that you examine all of the facts before you make a final decision on the charges that are pending.

In the mean time, please forward the following message to Chris as I am uncertain of the jail's address (and I rarely write real letters).

Thank you for your assistance,

Ellie's Mommie

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

Chris,

In regards to your recent request for hair-fashion advice, I feel obliged to offer my extent wisdom. If you are of pale complexion (something I would expect from a winter-bound Wisconsin) I do not recommend my Mother's suggestion of dying your hair black. While it does go smashing with bright orange, it has tragic affects on the state of your skin color. However, my best suggestion does require you to suffer these ill effects for a few months in order to achieve hair-color-perfection! Therefore, if you find your stay in the local "facilities" to be an extended one, you may consider this an option.

First, you must spend several months dying your hair various shades of blacks, dark burgandies, etc. For most even results, I suggest doing this every week or so in order to keep the roots from becoming overly exposed. After a few months of this regimen, you then must request that a hair stylist (unfortunately, this step cannot be done on your own) attempt to make you a blonde! After the stylist recovers from his/her cardiac arrest, they will first attempt to apply the maximum strength of peroxide to your head. If you have done the previous "black" procedure properly, this peroxide application will prove completely uneffect and fully astonish your stylist.

At this point you may then suggest that he/she use an herbal compound called "diamond glitz". (To forewarn you of the impact this had in my life, I will note here that these events took place NINE years ago & I can still remember the name of the product!)

After this product has had time to work, you will be greatly disappointed to look in the mirrow and see that your hair is still this dark greyish color. Do not be fooled. This product cakes on your hair like mud and incases it in a mummy-like chemical reaction. Once your stylist rinse this mud cast from your folicles, you will sit up in your chair and SCREAM!

Your hair (which was mud grey sixty seconds ago) will suddenly be every shade of ORANGE imaginable. The tips of each strand (which have endured months of the dark-dying process) will be a gorgeous burgandy. Meanwhile, the roots of your folicles will be platinum blonde! The remaining portions of the strand will vary in color from blonde to burgandy the closer you get to the ends (This includes a florescent orange color in the middle which should match your jumpsuit PERFECTLY!)

Your stylist will immediately faint (assuring no payment necessary) and no one on the block will be able to duplicate your exact hair color without explicit instructions from you. OH, THE CONTROL YOU WILL HAVE OVER THE FASHION INDUSTRY!

I hope that these suggestions will help you to be more satisfied with your hair fashion during your unfortunate incarceration.

While I hope for your quick release and that all charges are dropped, you might consider milking the situation for all it's worth. Seriously, is jail really that bad (if you can avoid become BIG BERTHA'S LOVE PUPPET)?

Think about this:

• 3 free meals
• laundry service
• no screaming children
• cable
• access to furthering your education at the expense of taxpayers
• house-keeping
• free medical care
• vacations to various locations while you appeal the verdict of your trial
• and if it truly does turn for the worst you have the consolation of knowing you can order Steak & Lobster for your final meal... plus, they clean the injection site really good so you don't die from that last minute infection!

Best wishes from Blogland,

Ellie's Mommie

I Love You Mommy!

WARNING: This blog has been rated 3PND (3 Pees, No Drinking!) by the Blog Readers Association of Mommy! You have been warned!

Since Chris officially canceled Tuesday, I'm kind of at a loss. I too canceled Tuesday so that I might better recover from Monday. However, when I checked in with Chris she made me feel guilty for leaving everyone here in Blogland to fend for themselves.

After spending my non-Tuesday reading Chris's recommended post, I decided that it was a perfect time to make fun of my Mother. Why? Well, because she's a hilarious old woman who lost her last shred of sanity years and years ago. (Raising me may, or may not, have had something to do with her apparent loss.)

In my family it is made perfectly clear that if we don't pick on you, we don't like you. Since I like my Mom an aweful lot, I think it's only fitting that I make fun of her.

Let the pointing and laughing commense!

I must tell you that my mother is officially the biggest KLUTZ I know! (Okay, technically she's the second biggest klutz, but since the person in the #1 position is klutzy on purpose, the official award has to go to my Mom!) Seriously, my Mother could find a way to injure herself in a plastic bubble!

Think I'm kidding? I'm not! My mother is the only woman on the face of this Earth who can give herself a DOUBLE CONCUSSION! Never heard of a double concussion? Don't feel bad. I believe the doctor made some technical statement like, "What the hell were you thinking?"

So, how do you get a double concussion? It's actually quite easier than you might expect.

First, you must strategically plan the landscaping of your yard so that a large tree stump is positioned directly outside your front step where the sidewalk forks in two directions. Second, you must wake up early in the morning and decide to leave your house prior to your coffee kicking in. Thirdly, you must do this on an icy winter morning when there are horses to feed, cows to check and ice to break in the water tanks.

Once these three aspects are properly set up, it is simply a matter of stepping onto your front step, slipping on the ice, and flying head first into the previously mentioned tree stump. Bingo! It's 7 A.M. and you have successfully recieved concussion #1! Congratulations!!

Of course, as the name "double concussion" implies, this is only the beginning! In order to achieve the spectacular title of "DUH" you must also possess a very unique quality. You must firmly believe that you are SUPERWOMAN and that all doctors are the "Devil's Handymen". Then, you must conclude that saving a baby calf from freezing to death is much more important than tending to your own injuries. If this is the case, you can then pick yourself up off the ice-covered front lawn and procede to go about your morning chores.

No doubt this would be a difficult task for many of us, because double vision and throbbing headaches would make it difficult to tell which gate led to which pen and which calf belonged to which cow. It seems that my Mother is quite talented in this realm of multiplicity. She barely noticed that our horses had miraculously cloned themselves and since math is not really her strong point, it posed no concern to her that there were a few too many cows in the pens.

My Mother proceded through her day, completing her chores and all of the pleasant tasks that go along with managing a ranch in the dead of winter. Amazingly, she did not fall in the water tanks, and all the gates were opened and closed properly.

At the end of a long day, my Mother stumbled her way back to the house and decided it was time for a nap. This is where that amazing double whammy rears it's ugly head. It is important to note here that at this particular time, my parents bed was actually a pull out couch. My Mother stumbles to her room and in an act of total exhaustion she basically belly flopped onto her bed. WHAMO!! Her forehead cracks precisely on the metal frame supporting the mattress! Congratulations Mom! You have just scored concussion #2!

I must say that this certainly takes a lot of talent and a true act of KLUTZINESS!! The doctor was not nearly as impressed! As far as the events that transpired between concussion #1 and concussion #2, they are forever lost. It is quite possible that she DID fall into the water tank and was oblivious to it. It is also possible that the dog ate alfalfa that morning, while the cows pigged out on Puppy Chow. Dad might have eaten cat food, while the cat got a cheeseburger. The neighbor may have even lost a few sheep that day. We may never know!

I know that you must truely be impressed by my Mother's fantastic feat of cranial damage. But please keep in mind that it takes much more than a single day's actions to defend a championship title.

My mother has also managed to slam herself face first into a cattle panel, only to have no recollection of what happened. The bruises clearly told us that she HAD slammed into the panel, but to this day we have no idea why she decided to take a running leap into the unforgiving metal.

On another occasion, this bull-headed woman jumped a fence and probably broke her ankle. Since it was only a week from the State Fair, she refused to go to the doctor because there was no way she would spend her "vacation" wearing a cast. Instead, she tightly laced a boot on her foot for a week. (Please picture a half naked crazy woman limping to the bathroom in the middle of the night wearing only her skivies and one cowboy boot!) Again, the doctor was not impressed with her.

One of her more talented feats involved an exploding sewing needle which managed to lodge itself into her eye. Though I must admit she DID seek medical assistance for this (not that they were of much help). She then spent the next few weeks pulling metal shards from her eye.

More recently, she managed to relocate her thumb so that it faced the opposite direction. I believe this incident had something to do with a greedy horse and a large hay bale feeder. Again, she sought medical assistance (to no avail) and certainly deserves a standing ovation for learning to wipe her ass with her other hand!

So, as you can clearly see, my mother is a glutton for punishment! She never ceases to amaze us (and annoy her doctors) with her klutzy resolve! She never gives up! She continues to brave the icy winter mornings, wrestle the hay bale feeders, and cuss at her sewing machine.

My Mother is a firm believer that when you get bucked off, you've got to pick yourself up and get right back on that horse.

That being said, I will leave you with one final "I'm tough enough to handle it" Mommy Moment!

Having just been released from the hospital for a surgery that only a woman could require (and in her case, welcome) she decided that she felt exceptionally good. In fact, she felt SO good that when Cletus announced he needed some help on a horse, she decided to overcome her life-long fear in order to assist him. In a brilliantly STUPID moment, she decided to saddle MY horse to help Dad. (Let me make it clear that I own an insane, stubborn, unpredictable, bastard of an Appaloosa!) She seemed to have no problem overcoming her phobia of horses at that moment. Unfortunatlely, my horse does not really appreciate having to actually WORK! My Mother's "bravery" lasted approximately 90 seconds. At that point, my horse decided to express his displeasure by throwing a full-blown three-year-old temper tantrum complete with bucking! While my Mother definately deserves BONUS POINTS for remaining in the saddle (a feat even I find difficult at times) she did discover at that very moment that she didn't feel nearly as great as she thought. Her ride was promptly brought to a halt as abdomenal incisions screamed in protest!

As I said, "My Mother is a firm believer that when you get bucked off, you've got to pick yourself up and get right back on that horse."

Unless of course, it actually involves a HORSE!!

Today was brought to you by the letter F!

Have I mentioned I hate Mondays? Seriously, who the hell decided that Monday was so great? And who's bright idea was it to schedule all of my prenatal visits on MONDAYS? Seriously, what kind of shit is this?

Think I'm over-reacting? FINE! You like Mondays so much? You try starting your week out by having some jolly cheerful doctor check your tonsils via your nether regions!! Yeah! See how much you like Mondays then!!

MONDAYS SUCK!!

That being said, here's today's spectacular chain of events.

• Sleep in on my day off!
• Wake Daddy Dearest up for appointment.
• Make DD laugh all the way to town because "I can't feel the wind, turn on the AC!" We drove all the way there with the windows down and the AC on because "I can't feel the wind!"
• --------
• Nether-region tonsilectomy
• More epidural comments
• Baby & Mommie are both perfectly healthy
• Almost 38 weeks and no progress
• Doc is still optomistic but exact words were, "Now we just play it week to week. Not looking very promising right now. HAVE SEX!"
• Cuss obstinant unborn daughter for being too damn comfortable! GET OUT OF ME!!
• --------
• Waddle through Dollar Tree finding none of the things I went there to buy.
• Find one of the items on the front wall AFTER I've already paid for my junk.
• Glare at items and decided it just isn't worth it.
• --------
• Go to eat at Long John Silver's. Heart set on fish sandwich.
• Find that LJS is no longer there due to construction. No clue where it went!
• Settle for cheap-ass fish sandwich from the piss-colored arches!
• --------
• Get home, call realtor, schedule time to view a house, get address.
• Decide to go check out house in advance
• Driving down road (windows down & AC going)
• DD slows down and sticks head out window to check tire (I haven't mentioned how paranoid he is about vehicles)
• Laugh hysterically at DD when his hat instantly blows off and lands in the middle of the road behind us. (Guess he couldn't feel the wind either!)
• Go back to pick up hat
• Go check out house. It's fabulous, in the country, five acres, and we can afford it. Something will definately go wrong with the loan application process!
• --------
• Check out nearby road to see where it goes.
• Discover large tree down across entire road (I'm a "country girl" and I must say this is a first for me. The tree was blocking the whole damn road. AND the road was paved. Okay, so it was "lightly" paved, but still!)
• Come back home to fill out loan paperwork.
• --------
• Discover while we were gone "Parking-Challenged" has placed their vehicle smack dab between two parked cars. Said vehicle is strategically placed to prevent anyone from parking on either side of it.
• Park red car along tree line (not parking area)
• Move grey car closer to Parking-Challenged vehicle.
• Move red car beside grey car.
• Cuss continuously throughout whole process.
• --------
• Fill out loan papers.
• Find all necessary documents.
• Spend a moment admiring my "skills" at writing my divorce decree and settlement.
• Call boss and ask for tomorrow off to view house and meet with loan department.
• --------
• Clean closet.
• Daddy Dearest (holding stuffed animals that go in closet): "Let's play catch!"
• Me (not ready to put stuffed animals in closet): "No, I'm not ready for them!"
• Daddy Dearest (grinning): "Okay, then we'll play dodgeball!" (proceeds to pelt me with stuffed pink pig and 50 squishy frogs)
• --------
• Reorganize baby furniture.
• Cuss because apartment is too small for all our shit and a baby!
• --------
• Pig out on stir-fry.
• --------
• Write pointless blog about day's events.
• --------
• Go to bed thankful that MONDAY IS OVER!!!

So I wasn't online yesterday because I was sleepy. I wasn't on today because I HATE MONDAYS!! And I probably won't be on tomorrow because I'll still be recovering from Monday (a good "fix" of HOUSE might help!). Guess I'll talk to you all on Wednesday!

Much love and HAPPY BLOGGING!!

Oh yeah, just to make me feel better . . .

FUCK MONDAY!!!

Alphabet Game

This post was brought to you by the letter "K"

Karate kid kangaroo kicks K's knotting kidneys
Kitchen karma keeping know-nothing K klutzy
Kindhearted knight kisses kooky K

Killjoy kin kindles knockdown
King knucklehead keeps kingdom's keepsakes
Knowledgeable kid kindly keeps key knick-knacks
King's knife kills kind kid's karma
King's kickback knits kneedeep kinked knowledge
K's keen knowhow killed kindred kindness

Kamikaze Koran killers
Keen kleptomaniac kaiser kidnaps kittens

Keyboard keystroke kaput

K's Kooky Keepsakes (just for KICKS!)

• 1-kilogram Kumquat Keg
• 1 Koala Kennel
• 1 Knitted Kilt Kit
• 1 Kooky kaliedoscope kazoo
• Kosher Ketchup Kelp & Kiwi Keilbasa Kabobs
• 10-karat krypton
• 1 Kayak keel kickstand
• Kinesiology for Kindergarten
• 1-kiloliter kneecap kettle
• 2 Khaki karate kerchiefs
• Klutzy kitchenware kite
• Knightly kickboxing knickers
• 1 Kerosene keeping knapsack
• 1 Kitty-killing knocker
• 1 Keno kiosk
• 15 Kneaded kale kernels
• 4 Kangaroo knees
• 2 Kestrel knuckles
• Kickoff Knighthood

Just so you know... that was KRAZY!!!

Trash to Treasure

I must say that my mother taught me well. YES! I'm an ONLY CHILD! And YES! I'm spoiled frigging rotten! And YES! I have trouble sharing and tend to have a fit if I don't get MY WAY!

However, I don't really think that I ask for a whole lot of anything. I appreciate everything I have and I work hard to get the things I want.

Like any SPOILED DIVA, I love nice new things. I'm infatuated with anything that sparkles, shines, or shimmers! I enjoy being pampered! And I have no problem admitting that in my next life I want to be a GOLD DIGGER!!!

But underneath it all, I truly do know the value of a dollar and how to make it stretch farther than the Golden Gate Bridge. I learned at a young age that you can make any item of furniture out of milk crates. Large cardboard boxes can be used for tables. Sheets are curtains. And a beautiful wrap skirt looks fabulous as a wall hanging.

Growing up we put a whole new meaning to "One Man's Trash Is Another Man's Treasure!"

It was not uncommon to visit the town dump in search of furniture that could be repaired and reused. Many of my favorite items from my childhood were items that someone else didn't want. From dumps to hand-me-downs, many a cherished item came to us second-hand.

So it's no big surprise that I'm a GARAGE SALE JUNKIE!!

That being said, today was our "city-wide" (I use the term city lightly) garage sale and I simply could not resist. With baby on board, money is tight and I budgetted for 3 weeks to splurge at the garage sales. I must say, "I did quite well!"

Today's Treasures!

Patio Chair $5.00

Stroller $5.00

Baby Mozart VHS $0.75

AND

Beauty and the Beast: The Enchanted Christmas VHS $0.25

"I Spy" Preschool Game $1.00

2 Mason Jar Mugs with Lemon design $0.50

4 stuffed frogs my co-worker gave me but I paid her $1.00 anyway!

4 Stephen King books I didn't have $1.00

2 bagged lawnchairs for camping $3.00

About 12 horror novels my co-worker gave me for FREE

9 small glass bottles I picked out for my Mom $2.25

1-gallon glass Clorox jug for Mom $1.00

half-gallon green glass bottle for Mom $1.00

1 set of kitchen knives for Daddy Dearest $2.00

A furry purple pillow I just had to have $1.00

Pier Import's incense burner for Daddy Dearest $0.50

And 13 children's books ($0.25/each)... most of them old hardbacks $3.25

• Walt Disney's Dumbo (1947)
• Dr. Seuss's One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish (1960)
• Chester by Syd Hoff (1961)
• Dr. Seuss's ABC (1963)
• Snoopy and the Red Baron (1966)
• In a People House (1972)
• Walt Disney's The Brave Little Tailor (1974)
• Bambi Grows Up (1979)
• Down on the Farm with Grover (1980)
• The Tale of the Dark Crystal (1982)
• The Magic School Bus: Lost in the Solar System (1990)
• Winnie the Pooh and Tigger Too
• Charlotte's Web

And the GRAND TOTAL for the day is . . .

$28.50!!

Top that WAL*MART!!

And further more . . . I did not buy a single article of clothing or a single nicknack to clutter up my home. I'm so proud of myself! Every purchase had a purpose! That's quite an accomplishment for a junkie like myself.

Oh yeah . . . I almost forgot!

THE BOTTLES WERE A NICE TOUCH!!

OMG You're NUTS!!

So I was skimming through pregnancy boards (my second favorite past-time these days) and found a woman who had reponded to a question. The question and response aren't important. What got me was in her "signature" she lists her children.

#1. Grace - 8 lbs.
#2. Melissa - 9 lbs 4 oz.
#3. Johnathan - 12 lbs 10.5 oz
#4. David - 9 lbs 13 oz
#5. Allison - 9 lbs 5 oz
#6. Boy EDD May 23rd

My first thoughts were . . .

1. SIX KIDS!!
2. OMG! THEY'RE HUGE!!!
3. Did you need to clarify that extra half ounce on a 12+ pound baby?
4. Did Johnathan's birth announcement list the weight or just say "FUCK!"
5. Have you started writing "smaller than the last one"?
6. How could you ever have sex again after a 12+ pound baby?
7. Are you a glutton for punishment?
8. 12 POUNDS!!

The Alphabet Game

Wanna play? Check out the rules (and entries so far) here.

The letter "E"

Essay Explaining Evolution

Enter
Echoing erotic escapade ensues
Each extremely exciting embrace entices exhilarating effects
Ejaculation efforts embedded emerald embryo exactly
Extended elaborate expert examinations ensure exotic extraterrestrial exists
Everyone expresses extraordinary elation
Eventually environment eases establishing endearment
Excellent enthusiasm elevates enchantment
Easily evident expansion everywhere
Endless enlargement exhausts every experience
Everything evokes extreme emotions
Estrogen error escalates
Explosive eruptions evident every evening
Evidently eating everything edible endorses elephantitis
Excessive engorgement evokes empathetic exclamations everyday
Everlasting eras elapse
Estimated eviction eagerly expected
Everybody encourages early epidural elixir
Emergence expects excruciating elements
Enduring energy essentially employed expels Earthling
Expect exalting experience exceeding every elating enjoyable expectation
Exit

Brought to you by the letter "B"

This is 100% my mother's fault! She has challenged an alphabetical blog. She began with the letter "a" and I (being the show off I am!) have accepted the letter "b". Feel free to check out her rules and take the next letter.

-----~~*~~-----

Ballistic broad blasting bleating baabaas.
Borrows booze, buys bullets, but balances boredom.

Babbling baroness balms baby belly butter.
Birthright barely bearable but brilliantly beautiful blessing.

Blissful bitches begin belligerently beating badly behaved bastard brats.
Believe both belong behind bars but best befriend batty businesswomen.
Bothered but blending bubbly bourbon beverages brightens body.

Baby brain blogged B’s but believes beginning blogger be big bad butthead.

-----~~*~~-----

*BANG BANG BANG*

CODE BLACK!

In light of recent events it has come to my attention that some people in my family need a serious attitude adjustment! Since there are laws about beating up 70-year-old elderly individuals, my options at this point seem rather limited. However, being the resourceful young woman that I am, I have come up with several options that might get my point across without earning me a mug shot and orange jumpsuit!

1) Write a tactful letter that explains exactly what is going on and why it is so upsetting. Make sure that the letter contains no vulgar or malicious language. Sit back and hope the idiots can get the point.

2) Drop a postcard in the mail that says, "Glad you got the letter. Sorry you're an asshole. Got the message loud and clear. Will act accordingly in the future!"

3) Ignor the entire situation and let them read about their great-granddaughter's birth in their local newspaper!

4) Gather copies of all the pictures in my house that contain me and these people. Cut my face out of all the pictures. Mail the modified pictures to the assholes with a note that says, "You like playing games to hurt people? How do you like it when I play back?"

While the first option is obviously the most tactful choice, I'm not yet convinced that I will be satisfied with tactful. Currently, Option #4 seems to bring me the greatest amount of diabolical laughter (You probably don't think any of this is funny, but I'm a sick bitch and find it greatly entertaining!)

You may now place you votes for best option.
Write-ins and other comments are also acceptable!

Why I Married an Asshole!

I've decided that my marriage to my ex-husband WAS NOT a mistake!
Okay, it WAS a mistake, but it was a justified one!
Okay, so it WASN'T justified! I'm just making excuses!

That debate aside, there are perks to having a worthless ex-husband like mine. My favorite of these is my expanded wardrobe possibilities!
That's right ladies!
Divorce is FASHIONABLE!
Other than the traditional,

"I still miss my ex, but my AIM is improving!"

and

"Not With Stupid Anymore!"

t-shirts, I have discovered there is a vast wardrobe of "EX" fashion statements out there!

There are various styles of

"Divorced and Loving It!"
shirts.

Additionally you will find shirts that say:

The best thing my

husband ever gave

me was a DIVORCE

-~*~-

The plan is simple

like my ex-husband.

But UNLIKE my ex-husband,

0the plan might work!

-~*~-

Roses are Red, Violets are Blue
I'm still taking you to divorce court
You cheating lying usless PRICK
...screw you!
-~*~-
Happiness is

being an Ex-Wife
-~*~-

Better to lose a lover

than love a loser!

-~*~-

I love pigs so much,

I married one!

-~*~-

'Tis better to have loved and lost

than to have lived with that asshole

for the rest of your life.
-~*~-
Sex is overrated.

Just spend a couple of minutes

with my Ex-husband

and you'll agree!

-~*~-

Don't think of

it as divorcing...

think of it as a much

needed revision.
-~*~-
My divorce certificate

is so beautiful,

I think I'll frame it!

-~*~-

Hammer

+ Ex-Husband

+ Shallow Grave

= Happy Ex-Wife

-~*~-

Dick Cheney,
Please take my Ex-husband hunting with you!
-~*~-
On top of those fabulous faves, there's a whole line of t-shirts devoted to "My Ex?"

My Ex? His favorite method of birth control? His personality!

My Ex? His best weight is 3 pounds (including the urn)

My Ex? He won't admit his age, or act it!

My Ex? He's all hat and no wand!

My Ex? He's an experiment in artificial stupidity.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you can see the fashion possibilities are endless! DIVORCE is a wonderful thing!

TOLD YOU IT WASN'T A MISTAKE!!

It's still a girl!!

All the family DRAMA (I think we've entered CODE BLACK!) aside, there was a happy moment of elation today when Daddy Dearest and I got to see our little girl again! It took a while to get a nice picture of her face b/c she kept rolling and putting her hands up there. But she finally found her toes and let us have a pretty chubby cheeked pose. The pictures aren't the greatest (and my purse injured the last one w/ imprints from two quarters) but she was being a little turkey.

She had no problem giving us a perfect profile shot and even stuck her tongue out while we were watching her.

The face shots were much harder to get. She kept yawning and wiggling around with her hands on her face.

We also got to see all her little organs that are absolutely perfect. Just for good measure we made sure she was still a little girl (SHE IS!! NO ROOT FOR HER!!)

Measurements put her at 6 pounds 8 ounces, which was a relief to me, since she feels absolutely HUGE!!

Everything is absolutely perfect.

WARNING: The following contains sexual content and disturbing descriptions which may not be suitable for all viewers. Viewer discretion is advised!

I'll spare you the details of the actual doctors exam, but needless to say the doctor was saying, "You realize we have to get a baby out of here?" She then encouraged an epideral which was a bit discouraging. I realize my reaction was one of pain, but seriously I need a DO NOT ENTER sign down there. Just picture petting a cat the wrong direction. Yep, that's what it felt like!

Now you can guess how pleased I was when the doctor prescibed SEX twice a week! She said it's the only PROVEN method of enducing labor! Of course Daddy Dearest (poor deprived guy) was grinning EAR TO EAR at this news, but I am so not impressed!

Thankfully, she did say there was no need to overdo it like the last couple who had sex 10 times in one week! Yeah, my jaw dropped too! Oh, that's normal for you? YOU SUCK!!

Who's Sybil?

Great, now I have to DEFEND myself! This is getting out of hand!

First I must say that I have no idea who this "Sybil" is or what my Mother thinks she's talking about! I DO NOT have multiple personalities!! (But I do believe several of the voices that inhabit my mind may need serious therapy!)

As far as golf carts go, I deny having anything to do with that situation! I'll tell you all exactly the same thing I told the officer when he asked me about it the following day. "Which golf cart?" I do not recall a golf cart that ended up stranded across town when two teenage girls wanted to visit a friend. Fortunately, due to insubstancial evidence (and some shoddy police work) no charges were ever pressed against me. I consider this whole situation to simply be a misunderstanding of the facts. Frankly, it's their word against mine and I'm sticking to my story! I have no idea why that local police officer got it into his mind that I may be trouble and continued to follow me around for the entire summer. I believe he must have been seriously over-worked and suffering from a great deal of stress.

I have no knowledge of where exactly the "Willie Nelson Farm Aide Handbook" came from. It was passed on to me from a third-party who may or may not have mentioned that the statute of limitations had expired on it. I do know that it is a very interesting book full of several interesting phone numbers. However, I imagine that much of the information is now very outdated. The years have played quite a toll on my young mind and I seem to have totally forgotten who gave the book to me in the first place.

Unlike my mother, who tends to blame her misadventures on her "supposed" alter-egos, I have no problem taking responsibility for my mistakes. In both of the above situations, I feel that I was an innocent victim of "guilt by association."

As far as marrying FS, I have a very logical explanation for that. I was under the strange misconception that a marriage was solely about loving someone. Unfortunately, I failed to realize that marriage also includes being able to tolerate the stupidity of a man, being able to overlook the financial incompitance of some people, and being able to keep from killing one's in-laws. It was not until I had signed the papers that I realized I was incapable of doing these other three things. Rather than spending the rest of my life in prison for burying my husband and his family in shallow graves, I opted to file for divorce.

Looking back is was really a blessing in disguise. I no longer have those misconceptions of perfection and having that first ex-husband under my belt has brought with it a very satisfying amount of relief.

I have since set my standards for "husband-material" a little bit higher. Next time around (which is not expected in the near future) I fully intend to marry for money. Daddy Dearest is well aware of the fact that while I love him very much, I am hoping that he is a wise financial investment. (There's good money in pizza these days!)

And in regards to our unborn daughter, I must say that if she has genetically inheritted any unsatifactory traits, they certainly have to come from her father or her maternal grandmother. Clearly, she could inherit nothing but a positive personality and fabulous sense of humor from ME! I am completely mentally stable and maintain that I have no clue why the men come around knocking on my door with that pretty white straight jacket. I believe they must either be lost or dipping into their surplus of mind-altering medications.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it!!