Clintonville Big Momma

Boobs

2009-07-20T23:22:00.001-04:00

As promised, more to come about my boobs......

Welcome back!

The new house of Momma....

2009-04-08T19:10:00.002-04:00

Please visit me at my new, albiet incomplete home at:

www.clintonvillebigmomma.com

I bit the bullett....

2009-02-08T22:21:00.002-05:00

....and joined Facebook. What was I thinking?

A post not about sex toys, masturabation or anything that would creep my mother out

2009-01-29T18:43:00.012-05:00

I have been staying clear of my blog since my last post. I was fearful that I had revealed too much. A moment of sobriety? Perhaps. But a few minutes ago I checked the comments and immediately felt better. I now feel like I have provided a much needed public service. I should totally have my own talk show. Or at the very least my own After School Special. It would have to be an After Work Special because I'm pretty sure that masturbation isn't appropriate for teens. I would totally have Erin Moran play me and Scott Baio play the Mister. It would be called "Joannie Loves Chachie: How We Get Down With Our Bad Selves." It would be the first of a series that would include:

Joannie Loves Chachie: Our trip to a sex toy shop

Joannie Loves Chachie: How we decide who gets to sleep in the 'wet spot'

Joannie Loves Chachie: Sometimes it's ok just to cuddle....

....because everyone likes to just cuddle sometimes. That so was not a Viagra joke. I wouldn't know anything about that....

Now, on to the real meat and taters of this post. In a real effort to be mature, I will not be posting about sex, sex toys, masturbation or anything that would cause you mind to wander into the gutter.

I am going to post about being a single lady.

This week (I wrote this last week)I have been all by my lonesome. Mr. Big Momma has been out of town. He picked a heck of a week to leave, given my long ass driveway, the inch of ice that covers it and the 5 inches of snow that top the ice. And I'll remind you about my injured ankle just to ensure that you really feel sorry for me.

I have always considered myself an independent lady.

"All the women who are independent
Throw your hands up at me
All the honeys who makin' money
Throw your hands up at me"

Shit yeah! Sorry, I had to rock a little Beyonce there. You understand, right? Are you feeling me? Please, don't be a hater. It causes wrinkles and will just make you a bitter, sad sack of a person.

But seriously, I can take care of myself. Now if the Mister reads this, and if he by chance has just taking a sip of Coke, he will totally be spitting it out, all over his computer monitor. Because when he first met me 14 years ago, I was a total mess. I had never done my own laundry. I paid someone to do it for me (Thanks T, still miss your laundry, the most fluffiest eva!). I never did my dishes. Often times, they would sit in the sink for weeks. I would get disgusted with them and instead of just washing them, I would throw them away.

Several years into my marriage, I did cook, on occasion, but it would normally involve a meat with some sort of Campbell soup mix. It is kinda hard to be a culinary genius when you spend 90 hours a week, working in a sweat shop, I mean lab, working on your Ph.D. Plus, I really had no clue.

Over the last several years, I have done most of the cooking in our household. Mr. Big Momma is an excellent cook and he still does cook from time to time. But cooking has become cathartic for me in a way I never thought possible. And I promise you that when I cook, I actually wash the dishes now, or at the very least, put them in the dishwasher. See, told you I was mature?

And I don't just cook, I clean too! The only thing I don't do is laundry. The Mister banned me from this years ago.

Ok, so blah, blah, blah. I get it Big Momma, you are a righteous gal who gets the shit done. Big deal.

Well, the big deal came when I was found by myself, with a sprained ankle and a driveway full of ice and snow. I'm already hearing the waaaaaaaahhhhh's out there. Thanks BIL, you mo-fo. Poor Big Momma. But please, keep your mock sympathy in check until I get the full story out.

So not only was I alone, I was trapped. Because my car got stuck in our road. I was able to get it back in the driveway after bribing the male neighbor by telling him if he helped me, I'd give him the best blow job he's ever had. He seriously is that much of a douche that I had to nearly BEG HIM TO HELP ME.

We get the car back into the very bottom of the driveway, I suck him off, and we both go on our merry ways.

But then I find my post-pimped out self stuck. Totally and completely stuck at home. Totally and completely stuck at home without a clue as to how I would get myself out. I didn't have anywhere to go, so it wasn't a big deal. But there is something about not being able to go anywhere that makes me so totally want to go somewhere. And when I say somewhere, I mean no where, because I really had no. place. to. go.

It was at this very moment that I felt like my current self would have felt if I was my pre-husband self. Totally and completely useless. And it totally sucked donkey balls.

Marriage has saved me in more ways than one. I have to say, I'm a big fan.

P.S. I pimped myself out, yet again, to the snow plow dude who I ran after as he sped off from my neighbor's driveway. His plow was broken (Viagra, anyone?) but he spread enough salt down to melt enough ice so that I was able to get out the next day. And he didn't even charge me for the service. See, I told you I was good.

P.S.S. Michael Phelps is an idiot.

Good, good, good, good vibrations....

2009-01-22T08:31:00.000-05:00

Enter, with caution.

Everyone poops. I know this because a children's book was written with this title. I’m also pretty sure that everyone masturbates. Even me. Which, apparently, was quite a shock to the Mister. Last week, for some reason which I don’t remember, Mr. Big Momma ventured into by bra drawer. Upon entry, he immediately yelped “Oh my god, there are enough batteries in here to power the continental United States for 10 years.” I heard his yelp and responded with a big fat nothing. Because I knew why the batteries were there. I wasn’t saving them as a reserve, they were there for a rainy day. And to power me into the land of good vibrations. A land that I visit from time to time. A land populated by Barack Obama and Tiger Woods. Oh, and don’t forget Brad Pitt. And one that is sometimes visited by the new James Bond. We like it shaken, but never stirred. To each there own, I suppose. So back to his yelp followed by my nothing. That only lasted for a few days. I knew that the bottom was to drop, I just hoped that it wouldn’t be a for another fifty years or so. Three days later, while recapping our work days, Mr. Big Momma said, and I quote, “I need to ask you about something, but I’m not sure how to.” If you have been married for even a minute, you know that this is THE WORST THING THAT YOU EVER HOPE TO HEAR. When you hear this you immediately think, “Oh my god, he totally fucked my best friend, while my sister watched and my mom cheered him on.” You then think that he left this fuck fest for the strip bar where he made it rain for the skaggiest girls on earth, while he was with my dad, and then they flew to Nicaragua and bought enough coke to make Britney Spears’ jealous and snorted it on the bellies of The Pussy Cat Dolls. And then you think, “Oh my god, he didn’t even respect me enough to wear a condom.” And then you wake up. And he asks you, “How often do you masturbate?” He asks this because behind the bras and the batteries was the vibrator. And then the conversation gets all weird and funny and kinda hot. The details from here on out, I will not disclose, outside of saying that we are STILL married and STILL hot for one another. And I am pretty sure that this conversation will enhance our sex lives. Every couple should have these sorts of conversations. But I will disclose what I learned about what guys think about women masturbating because it is truly fascinating. And eye opening. And kinda disturbing. Misconception #1: Guys think that women masturbate all day. Every day. For 12 hour stretches. This is what Mr. Big Momma thinks I do while I say I am “working.” This explains why I must work into the wee hours of the night. I have blown my wad, so to speak, during the work day, on masturbating. Not work, but getting down with my bad self. Misconception #2: We masturbate in bed. Now I don’t know how you gals get down out there, but I prefer to get down on the couch, while watching crappy TV and not….#3. Misconception #3: We masturbate while watching porn. I’ve never taken an official poll, but most women I know think porn is gross and wouldn’t even consider it as a turn on. Misconception #4: We masturbate while totally nude. This is why Mr. Big Momma has made it his goal to come how from work early, park his car down the street and sneak up on me. Because he is totally convinced that I sit (in bed) totally nude and spread eagle while getting it on. I can’t wait for the day, while I’m working like a dog, that I see his big head pop into my office window. Oh, the disappointment. Misconception #5: We make really sexy sounds while getting down. Sounds that are unique to our normal sex with a partner sounds. Misconception #6: Masturbation is a whole production. Men think that there are candles, dimmed lighting, chocolate covered strawberries, Hallmark, flowers, perfume and Barry White. We make them work for it, so we probably make ourselves work for it too. They think it is some sort of elaborate production. Misconception #7: There is a lot of self-nipple tweaking while masturbating. Yeah, because it is sooo great to have your nipples tweaked. Misconception #8: That a “device” could replace a cock. I assure you men out there, that #8 is the biggest misconception. A cock is a cock is a cock. Yikes, I just said cock four times. So why am I sharing all of this? Well because there isn’t much that I keep to myself. And also because I think a convo like the one we started could lead to a heightened level of intimacy. I know there are many of you who have been married or with the same person for years. Things may be good in the sack, but maybe it is time for a change? Maybe it would be good for you both to mix things up? Maybe you will find something that you enjoy that you never thought possible to enjoy? Several years ago, I felt that I really finally understood marriage. It was because I truly got the idea that men and from mars and women are from venus. Now I’ve never read this book, but seriously, it is the truth. Men and women are different, and not just sexually. Here is the perfect example. Tonight while driving to The Container Store (yes, a super duper fun evening, especially for a Friday night), I asked Mr. Big Momma what he was thinking about. His response? “ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.” And you know, he was telling the truth. He even added the disclaimer, “It’s not like I’m trying to think about nothing. I’m just not thinking about anything.” This is just one of the many basic differences between women and men. Now I’m not trying to paint men and beasts who only eat, burp, leave their dirty socks all over the house, pick their asses and scratch their nuts. I’m saying simply that men and women are different. So maybe it is time that we stop looking at what our personal needs are and start wondering if we are satisfying our partner’s needs? Who knew that my battery supply would have “powered” this conversation? I personally, am glad that it did. Try some tenderness man, Otis style. I promise it will totally get you laid.

Tell me baby

2009-01-15T20:16:00.004-05:00

I wrote this post just before Thanksgiving.....

It has been over a week since I heard the best news I’ve heard in a long time:

I am going to be an Aunt.

The morning after I heard the good news, I woke up and 4am and started planning the baby shower. Later that day I was telling my sister about the menu I had planned. I had only gotten to the cucumber sandwiches before she interrupted me.

“But you hate baby showers, Big Momma.”

“This is different. It is your baby shower. My sister’s baby shower. A shower for my niece or nephew. A shower for lil' Big Momma (hint, hint)! Besides, I have decided that I am going to revolutionize baby showers. I am going to make them fun, and not just by serving booze.”

“Are you going to make me play that game where people have to guess the diameter of my belly?”

“No way. Your husbands cock, maybe.”

“But I am not sure that I want a baby shower.”

“You have no choice. This is your first child. You need everything. Besides, think of all those bitches who invited you to their baby showers. They owe you.”

And so the conversation went and continued for the next 20 minutes. We discussed the funny names that her and her husband had discussed. We talked about the fact that I don’t know how to change a diaper. We talked about the fact that I couldn’t wait to babysit….would she actually trust me with her child? What surprised me during our conversation was how calm she sounded. And trust me when I say there is never anything even remotely calm about my sister. I guess she has been mentally preparing for this moment longer than anyone could have realized.

P.S. She is having twins!!!!

P.S.S. So I’m wondering, internet, do you think these cutout cookies would be appropriate for the shower or just wrong?

I've fallen and I can't get up

2009-01-15T18:40:00.010-05:00

Who would have thunk that I'd be sitting around on this cold winter night, wishing to be The Gimp?

Yes, you read that right. I'm not wishing to be Forrest Gump. I wish I was The Gimp, not the Gump. And I can promise you that this has nothing to do with our outing to the sex toy shop on Sunday.

I'll leave that last sentence alone because my dear, sweet mother reads this......

So you are probably asking, "Why would a nice girl like CBM wish she was THE GIMP?" Keep your pants on people, I'm going to tell you why:

Because for the last week, I have been this gimp

I am pretty sure this is karma kicking me in the ass for wishing that I was in a wheelchair this summer so that the Mr. could push me around Vancouver. Karma probably isn't the right word here, but get off my back, I'm nursing an injury. And possible head trauma.

So the long and short of it is I fell while playing tennis on Saturday. Be glad that you didn't witness this horrendous event. I'm fairly certain it was the most ungraceful and klutzy act of my entire life.

The punishment for my crime is that I am not supposed to be on my feet for TWO WEEKS. And just in case that doesn't learn me all up right, I can't play tennis for FOUR WEEKS. You can already see that I am talkin' like a billy after a mere 4 days on the couch. What will I become after 14 days? At least I am still showering.

OK, so enough waah, waah, waahing about me. My experience has given me a new respect for those with permanent disabilities. I have been aware, for most of the last 35 years, that most of the people on this planet are butt heads. It seems these days, whenever I leave the house, butt heads are everywhere. They stare and you and cut you off. They get huffy when walking behind you. They don't hold doors or elevators.

I have considered installing a machine gun in my crutches, but I seriously can't see myself being someone's bitch after I'm imprisioned for my crimes. So instead, I'll vent through this post.

Now I'm not going to open a can of Jerry Lewis woop-ass on all ya'll. I'm just going to remind you to be nice to those in need. And I'm not talking about me here, unless of course you find me fumbling to light my cig while holding a beer and trying to teeter on one leg. Angeline Jolie would so want you to help me. My point here? If you see someone who is struggling, for the love of Pete, help them out. My momma taught me that, why didn't yours? Because your momma wears combat boots.

And if I catch you, not helping? I'll first do this....

....to try to mess with your game, throw you off. And then I'll woop ya....

.... militant grandma style. Remember, Big Momma is bad ass. And I have friends....

'O' Big Momma, you dirty girl you!

2009-01-02T21:41:00.006-05:00

I have to confess that I had a very disturbing dream last night. And when I say “disturbing,” I really mean “hot.” I must confess, internet, I had a nasty dream about Barack Obama.

Now bear with me here. I wasn’t alive during the Kennedy years. I am sure that there were many women during those years who had nasty dreams about Kennedy. I’m also sure that those women really truly fantasized about Kennedy. And when I say “really truly fantasized” I really mean really truly fantasized because they didn’t have the luxury of free porn or the internet. Those poor bitches. But I’m not going to feel too bad for them because while they didn’t have the luxuries of modern day society, they had something better. They had a real true fantasy about their president. A fantasy that only existed in their minds. A fantasy that was all their own. It is quite sad that no one has written about this for decades, but the reality is that it has been that long since we’ve had a hot president. And a smart president, but seriously, like I really needed to spell that out.

So back to Barack. One of my friends sent me an email a few weeks ago titled “Your Christmas Present.” Before opening, I figured it would be an Amazon gift card or something of the like. I had no idea how truly giving this friend would be. And I say that because his Christmas gift was this:

And he gave me this all while knowing that I curse baby Jesus on a daily basis. A friend that knows that I put up my Christmas tree, reluctantly, while listening to Ozzy Osbourne. Really loud Ozzy. While wearing all black and my devil ears.

That, my friends, is a true friend. So thank you friend for your o so generous gift. The gift that keeps on giving. I gift that I hope you, female readers, will continue enjoying. If you aren’t going to enjoy it for my sake, at least enjoy it for baby Jesus. You know he would want you to!

Smooth move, Exlax

2008-12-31T00:09:00.002-05:00

Tee, hee, hee. My Dad used to say that all the time when I did something stupid and it still make me chuckle.

So I’m wondering, is there an Exlax specifically for bloggers? Because I have been backed up for some time. After Mr. Big Momma and I discussed my masturbatory habits for an hour or so tonight (another post, kittens, I promise!), I was telling him how neglectful I have been with my blog. And how I wasn’t really neglectful because I have 5 posts saved in Word that I just haven’t posted. He was curious as to why I haven’t posted them (see future, already written post to be posted someday…). I told him that I haven’t posted them because I wasn’t feeling them. The foundation was laid (you: mind, out of gutter, please), but the details weren’t falling into place. He then told me that sometimes you need to settle with “B” work. Ha! “B” work is not part of who I am, unless I am posting six beers in.

So here I am, 3 beers in and feeling the urge to post. I’m half way there. So for tonight, you get random thoughts.

Random thought #1: If you play tennis, you should have full sight. There is this woman on my tennis league who I really think is blind. I say this because her eyes seem unable to focus on a human being. Now it would be really interesting if she was blind and able to play tennis. I am fairly certain that she is not blind because every week she shows up and does in fact play tennis. But her googly eyes still are troubling to me….

Random thought #2: The best shot in tennis, if you are playing at the net, is to hit the ball directly at the person playing the net on the other side of the court. Even though my tennis skills are somewhat lacking, I still can do this from time to time. Every time I do it, I apologize. I did it to my tennis coach on Saturday and of course, apologized profusely. She told me to shut the hell up. So when I was telling this to Mr. Big Momma tonight, I told him that sometimes in sports, you have to take a ball to the face. I am so willing to do this. Take a ball to the face and congratulate the person who hit it for hitting the perfect shot. Unfortunately though, many of the women on this league to do not feel the same way. Maybe because I have been married for 10 years, I am just used to taking balls to the face. Thanks Mr. Big Momma for the prep work. And again, just a reminder, please get your mind out of the gutter. You are really sick. Sick, sick, sick. Tee, hee, hee….I just said balls, like, 80 times. Balls, ha, ha, ha!

Random thought #3: There is woman that I met several months ago who is almost certainly the future me. The me at 55. And I have to tell you that I love her. Not just because she is cool as hell, but because she calls me “kiddo.”

Random thought #4: My best gay calls me kitten. I love this moniker. In fact I told him several weeks ago over a brutal Uno game that he doesn’t call me kitten anymore and that I thought we were no longer BFF’s. In this case, BFF=best fruit fly. Because he is my best gay, he immediately kittened me all up and all was right in my world. Best gay’s can do that to a girl.

Random thought #5: Mr. Big Momma asked me tonight to choose my best moniker: kitten vs. kiddo. As if! I cannot and will not choose.

Random thought #6: Holy shit, it is almost 2009. Scary shit. Don’t even ask me about New Year’s resolutions. Too much FUS (fucked up shit) wrong with me to even consider.

Random thought #7: I swear, one of my resolutions is to post up the crap that I have socked away. Your NY resolution is to be very, very afraid.

Big Momma's deep thought

2008-12-09T14:58:00.003-05:00

Does the rain wash away peoples' ability to drive?

Hit me baby one more time

2008-12-02T21:51:00.008-05:00

.....Pretty please? And make it a good one. A good enough one to erase any and all memories of earlier today……

In case you forgot to mark it on your calendars, today was my big day. And Britney Spear’s Birthday, in case you forgot that too.

My BIG FAT SHOCKING DAY.

If you have no idea what I am talking about, please scroll down a few posts. That post (and this one too, I imagine) is not for the faint of heart. Don’t say that I didn’t warn you.

So this morning at 8:30, I had the pleasure of getting anally raped by a tube, all while being catheterized. Plus I had enough electrodes on my ass to jump start a car. Kind of like a modern day, kinky Bride of Frankenstein.

The only good part of the procedure was the end of course, and the hug that I got on the way out from my nurse. I think that was the least she could do after violating me six ways to Sunday. I would have preferred to cuddle with her and share a smoke, but beggars can’t be choosers. And I really needed that hug.

All of this torture to find out that my urethra is too small. This is, unfortunately, the only small thing on my person. Big butt, big boobs, big hips, big mouth. I am starting to feel cursed. My small urethra prevents me from fully emptying my bladder. Basically, I am a walking bag of urine. A pee sack if you will.

The remedy is to have my urethra stretched, which I will not comment on because the reality of this hasn’t sunk in yet. I’m just keeping my fingers crossed that they will give me the good drugs for this procedure. The good drugs and lots of them. Excuse me while I go burn out a few Hail Marys.

When I got home from the doctor’s office, I changed into my sweats, curled up on the couch and got to working. I had Footloose on in the background in order to sooth my soul. About half way through the movie I came to the conclusion that having my urethra stretched is a lot better than not being able to dance. See, sometimes you need to put in all in perspective. I also ate a half pound of Anthony Thomas chocolate and I think that helped too.

Later I did some internet searching to find out a little more about this urethra stretching business. And let me tell you, I could not believe what I came across. Here is a rundown of the more interesting results that came up on Google, in no particular order.

Listen to urethra stretching radio. Sorry Kevin, no music for you!

A youtube video of Tom Urethra. I was too chicken to take a look. Plus, I was on my work laptop.

Urethra itchy diseases. ???

Urethra stretching, free dating: singles and personals.

Your urethra, the Portal of Evil. Amen to that.

Penis plugs. Not in my urethra you don’t.

Shopping for urethra stretching? You will find the best price at Apple Laser Toner Cartridge. See honey, always saving you money!

There were a plethora of websites talking about how “arousal” could be “enhanced” by 1. stretching your urethra, 2. inserting a vibrator into it or 3. inserting a penis into it. Oh my holy god.

The internet, although marvelous in its vast knowledge, sometimes scares the bejesus out of me.

I did come across this foxy lady on one of the sites:

She looks fiesty. And happy. I bet her urethra is of nornmal size. Bitch! After a second look, I'm not even sure that this is a woman. Geriatric drag queen, maybe.

I also came across this which I thought was kinda funny, given the day I had:

I bet she just had her urethra stretched.

To the beat of the rhythm of the night

2008-11-16T18:09:00.010-05:00

While I made cookies this afternoon, the Mr. watched "Barry Gordy's the Last Dragon" without even a hint of embarrassment.

I haven't seen this movie since 1985 when it came out in the theatres. I don't remember a damn thing about it other than these few, ultimately useless facts:

1. It tried too hard to be The Karate Kid + Purple Rain. Morris Day and the Time presents, "Mr. Miagi's the Purple Dragon." Oh wee oh wee oh.

2. Prince wasn't in it.

3. Neither was Ralph Macchio.

Now the Mister on the other hand, was quoting lines from the movie. And when the damsel in distress came on the screen, I'm pretty sure I saw him tweaking his own nipples.

For those of you who don't remember, Vanity was the damsel in distress. Here she is, circa 85:

So readers, I'm hoping you can help us settle an argument. I personally feel that Vanity is the poor man's Apollonia. Mr. Big Momma disagrees. If you don't remember Apollonia, she was the damsel in distress in Purple Rain.

So please vote for your favorite damsel in the comments section. Our marriage thanks you.

P.S. Just as an FYI, the internet told me that Vanity was SUPPOSED to play Appollonia in Purple Rain. But please, don't let me influence your vote.

I hope your face falls off

2008-11-13T21:05:00.003-05:00

I am a stalker. Seriously. Just ask anyone in my family. If I call you and you don't answer, I will call you until you do. I am charming in that way. Those I do this to (especially the hubby) certainly find it annoying. But I do think that stalkery (yes, I just made that up, wouldn't George W be proud!) is the ultimate form of flattery.

Or at least that is what I keep telling them.

In my constant efforts to mature, I have shifted my stalking efforts. See, I'm a big girl now! I am now a Facebook stalker. What is even more remarkable than this confession is the fact that I DO NOT have a Facebook account. That is where the stalking comes into play.

You see while in Chicago this summer visiting my friend T introduced me to The Facebook. Because I am a stalker, I memorized her username and password. You really can't trust me with anything. But, in my defense, T knows that I have been logging on as her and peeking around. During our weekly calls, we generally do a Facebook recap. There are a few high school friends that usually dominate the conversation. I guess not much has changed.....

I have thought many times about starting my own Facebook account, but I doubt that I ever will. Really, do I want to know what people from high school are up to? Not so much. The people that I want to keep in touch with, I already do. And I really have no desire to spark up a friendship with someone now, that I didn't even speak to in high school.

But what I do want to do is fuck with The Facebook. Understand that when I say want to do, I mean will never do. But I just can't control the evil part of my brain. Now just because I would never violate T's Facebook trust, doesn't mean I don't have a detailed laundry list of exactly what I would do with my own Facebook account.

Once logged into Facebook, you are encouraged to type something. There is a friendly box that states "What are you doing right now?" The something that you type there shows up on the pages of those you are friends with. In case you are not familiar, here are some examples of what people type:

Joe is waiting for his children to fall asleep.
Tammy is glad that tomorrow is Friday.
Billy just finished power washing his dog.

Blah, blah, blah. You get the idea. Here are some of my ideas:

Big Momma just squeezed out a dump in the shape of Mr. Potato Head.

Big Momma got sick of her son whining, so she bound and gagged him and locked him in the closet.

Big Momma is watching gay porn.

Big Momma just drank a case of beer and followed it with a percocet chaser.

Big Momma is hoping that none of her high school classmate fucks contact her here.

And so on, and so on. Oh the fun that I would have.

Another thing that Facebook shows is who you are friends with. For example, Tom and Sue are now friends. This drives me nuts. Who gives a shit, who gives a fuck?

It also can announce events others are attending. "Betty is attending a help me find my G spot seminar on Tuesday." You go girl. Please be sure to tell us when you find it.....

....cuz I'll be anxiously awaiting, while I stalk the pages of Facebook.

Technology. A curse and a blessing all in one neat, stalking package.

Who told him?

2008-11-13T20:59:00.002-05:00

Looks like W found out about my Shocker Treatment.....

I'm pretty sure they took this picture in my honor....wishing me the best for my December shock therapy.

Am I the only one counting the days until this moron is no longer prez?

I am getting THE SHOCKER and I have to say that I am shocked.

2008-11-06T21:16:00.003-05:00

Anyone that has been in my presence for more than an hour will tell you the following:

I am shockingly cute.
And perky.
And I pee a lot.

If they started “Peeing with the Stars,” I would totally dominate. Eventually I would become a judge because I so rule and I promise you that I would go Paula Abdul on their asses. Would you expect any less?

Unfortunately there are no contests or prizes for the most pees in a day. You can trust me on this one; I have searched long and far for them.

A few weeks ago I have my quad-annual physical. Not only do I pee a lot, but I am really lazy. My Doctor recommended that I visit a urologist. We had tried solving my problem several months before by limiting my fluid intake and with drugs, but neither worked.

So today at 3:15, I had the pleasure of visiting a urologist. I should have known while I was filling out the paperwork that I was in trouble. I actually took some notes of the more interesting questions that the paperwork asked me to answer:

Do you need pressure against your vagina to have a bowel movement?

Um, what? Honey, I’m trying to take a shit….I need some help!!!

Do you lose urine without any warning?

Lose urine???? Honey, have you seen my urine? I can’t seem to find it….

Do you ever wet the bed while asleep?

In case you were wondering, my answer was no.

Do you have reduced self-esteem, depression, frustration or nervousness?

Who doesn’t?

Because I pee more than 20 times per day (TMI? If you think this is TMI, trust me, you should stop reading this right the fuck now!), I am in the severe category. They basically start at the top of possibilities and work their way down. There are many things that could be wrong, from an irritated bladder lining, neurological problems or maybe leprechauns may have taken up residence in my bladder. So, the doctor gave me a different drug to try and is having me come back in for a Urodynamic Study.

Sounds interesting. Very scholarly. A study. A dynamic one at that.

So on my way home, I was telling my sister what I had found out. She asked, “What does a Urodynamic study mean? What exactly will they be doing?” I told her what the doctor had told me: stop taking your anti-pee meds 2 days before the procedure and come with a full bladder. Easy peasy!

Then I remember that I was stealthily handed a piece of paper on my way out. I thought maybe this would have the answers and boy did it. Talk about TMI. Here is what it says of the procedure:

And I quote…

First you will be asked to void (can’t they just say pee) on a special commode (how official! I feel like a queen!) where we can measure how fast and how much you urinate. We will then place a catheter (ouchy) into your bladder, and one into your rectum. We will put tiny surface electrodes on either side of your anus. (????)

And it goes on and on…..the torture that is. McCain style.

So I’m wondering now, what does my ass hole have to do with this? Can’t they just leave it alone? Isn’t the pee hole catheter enough? And don’t even get me started with the tiny surface electrodes. ON MY ANUS.

Baby’s got back, but not enough to surrender to anal electrode torture.

I think I’m going to get a second opinion….

They look like very kinky girrrrls....

2008-11-04T18:31:00.006-05:00

...the kind you won't bring home to mutha!

Unless of course, she had just taken out a big life insurance policy in your name.

On Halloween the gang went down to the Short North for the Halloween Highball, where they actually served highballs. I didn't realize that highballs made it out of the 70s. Or maybe this was some weird gay reference that I don't know about. I'll have to ask my best gay.....

....who unfortunately ditched us for bigger (hopefully) and better things. Hey best gay, we did pour one out for you. And I think that C made out with a drag queen in your honor. It was kinda hot....

Anyway, just wanted to throw up a picture that I snapped, which proves that prostitution is alive and well in Cbus. I just wonder how much these two really rake in.....

....hopefully they still have day jobs.

Dem some skanky ass hoes, damn!

He is so damn good, he can ride a bike with no handle bars

2008-11-02T19:38:00.004-05:00

Today, along with 60,000 others, I went to see Barack downtown. For those of you who missed it, here is a summary of what he said:

Look at me, look at me hands in the air like it's good to be ALIVE and on top

And "I'm Proud to be an American"

Look at me. Look at me. Just called to say that it's good to be ALIVE, In such a small world

I know how to run a business

And I can make you wanna buy a product

Movers shakers and producers

Me and my friends understand the future

I see the strings that control the systems

I can lead a nation with a microphone

With a microphone

My reach is global

My tower secure

My cause is noble

My power is pure

I can ride my bike with no handlebars

No handlebars

OK, so maybe that's not EXACTLY what he said. I stole these words from a song by the Flowbots. I heard it on my way home and couldn't help but think that this should be Barack's theme song. Anything to get him away from that awful Bruce Springsteen.....

And I'm pretty sure, even though I am very persuasive, that I couldn't get him to agree to use "Baby's Got Back" for his campaign song. Al Gore, maybe. But not Barack.

But I have to tell you that this man can lead a nation with a microphone. I saw it today. In the emotion of the crowd, in the passion seen on their faces. It was quite an amazing experience, one that I won't forget for a long time. The fact that one man brought out people from all walks of life, on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, just to hear him speak and lend their support is SUPER DUPER AWESOME.

I just now hope that all of those moved by his speech get out there and vote.

Ho-lloween

2008-10-30T22:22:00.007-04:00

Poles and holes.

The exact words my BIL uses to describe Halloween. And I have to say, after visiting several costume stores, he is right.

Halloween is an excuse for men to see holes and women to see poles. Are you picking up what I am putting down? If not, you should leave this site immediately and douse yourself in holy water. Holy water that has been blessed by the pope. Actually, if you stay, you should still probably douse yourself in holy water anyway, just to be safe. I hear it is like chicken soup for the soul. Oprah told me so.

A few weeks ago one of my girlfriends and I went to a Halloween shop, hoping to get inspired. We knew that we were going down to the Short North for the big Halloween partaaaay this year, but at that time, had no idea what our costumes would be. And I'll tell you that neither one of us were divinely inspired. We were shocked at the choices.

Slutty nurse
Slutty witch
Paris Hilton. No adjectives required.
Slutty zombie.
Slutty Freddie Kruger. Don't you know guys did chicks with long nails? I blame Alanis Morissette.
Slutty slut
Slutty Pippy Longstockings
Slutty sorcerer
Sexy kitten

And on and on and on. What would Pope John II think?

So with empty hands we walked out of the store. Neither of us was down with the slutty vibe. Even if we were, neither of us was down for spending $60 on a costume. Everyone knows that slut costumes, because of their lack of fabric, should be at least 30% off.

So what am I going to be for Halloween?

Simple.

Big Momma in a pink wig. That is all I have the energy for. Plus, I've always wanted pink hair, cut into a short bob. And my hole will not be showing. Just in case you were wondering.....

Happy Halloween people! Don't eat too much candy!!!

Fool in the rain

2008-10-27T20:30:00.006-04:00

I am a total idiot for buying Halloween candy 5 days before the big day. It is half gone and the circumference of my ass has already doubled. Hopefully it will not experience exponential growth.

Dirty little secret

2008-10-26T20:56:00.004-04:00

Well, here I am. Almost nine on Sunday night. Work is done. Check. Exercised today? Check. Jr.'s homework? Check. Now I just need to fall asleep.

Last night I struggled to stay awake for the OSU game. I made the sacrifice for my good friend Jim Tressel and his boys. Unfortunately my encouraging words weren't heard. It was a sad night in the Big Momma household. I even had on my Buckeye socks. Sometimes, you just can't do enough. Buckeye shirt? Check. Red bra? Check, check. Red undies? Check, check, check. I suited up but spent the game on the bench. Ok, really, the couch. But promise not to tell Tressell. It will be our little secret.

Back to tonight and trying to get some sleep. Not going to be an easy one. Too much going on upstairs. I wish there was an on/off switch. Actually, I probably don't because it would certainly spend more time in the off position. And then I would need to be fed thru a tube and someone would have to change my diaper. I don't think that anyone is up for the task.

What am I trying to say here? Lots. But it just can't seem to get it into the form of words or sentences. And forget about punctuation. That is a whole nother football game. And there is a lot going on right now. A lot that I can do nothing about. Other than hope it all works out for the best.

But here is a question for you married folk: If someone tells you a secret, do they assume that said secret will be shared with your spouse? I guess I always assume that to be so. Unless of course, you tell your sister that you think her husband cheats during tennis matches. She certainly wouldn't share that. Probably because she knows I am right. Just joshing Nill....NOT.

But what if said secret is a juicy one. A secret that secretly is good news. A secret that doesn't deserve to be a secret in the first place? A secret that is a blessing in disguise? Have you ever typed a word so much (ie, secret) that you question if you are spelling it right? That is where I am right now.

Questioning. I know the who, what, where and when, just not the WHY.

I wish I had all of the answers. Or at least a magic wand to make everything as right as it deserves to be.

To close, some lyrics:

Beyond my control - we all need control. I need control - we all need control.

I am the Modren Man - secret secret -

I've got a secret. Who hides behind a mask - secret secret -

I've got a secret So no one else can see - secret secret - I've got a secret

A prize to anyone who can give me the song and band. No cheating of course. There are no secrets here......

Hey friends, come on over, drink some wine, sit on my lap.....

2008-10-23T19:20:00.004-04:00

OK, I must admit that I seriously love this show. Despite the more manly than ever Brooke Shields.

But do you know any women who would sit like this?

Who exactly are the marketing people trying to target here? I guarantee, not matter how you present it, NO men will ever watch this show.

Richard Simmons is my friend

2008-10-15T21:05:00.008-04:00

Last night was our final tennis match of the summer season. The top 4 teams played. Unfortunately we had to play the #1 team. They are #1 due to some strategic serves, excellent ball placement and steroids.

After they kicked our butts, Mr. Roid came up to me. Now I have never once spoken to him and I truly don't even know his name. Here is how our conversation went:

Mr. Roid: "Big Momma, I just want to say keep up the good work."

(This is said as he grabbed and held both of my hands.)

BM: "Thanks?"

I had no idea what he was talking about. At first I thought that maybe he was complementing my tennis game....

Mr. Roid: "I just wanted to say keep up the weight loss. You look really good."

BM: "Thanks?"

Fade to black. Big Momma walks away, wondering what just happened.

I seriously felt like he knew about my secret past. That Richard Simmons had once rescued me by forklifting me out of my bed and delivered me on a flat bed truck to fat camp. He then forced me to wear really small athletic shorts and "deal my meals," while sweating to the oldies.

I will admit, while I have never been grossly overweight, I struggle with my weight, as most 35 year old women do. I will also admit that I joined Weight Watchers in September and am closing in on losing 10 pounds. For the last 10 years, I have participated in WW on and off. I mainly do it when feeling a little chubby and when I know my portion sizes have gotten out of control. My goal was to lose 10% of my body weight and I am nearly there.

So why did I take such offense to his comment? I will sum in up right here. It is really obnoxious to say to someone, even after losing a few pounds, "Boy, you look really good." It implies that you looked really bad before. I thankfully do not suffer from a poor body image. I did WW to primarily work on my health. It FORCES me to eat better, knowing that each and every week, I get weighed by a stranger. The fact that I have to pay $12 each week helps too.

So in order to move on, I would like to rewind and respond with any of the following:

Mr. Roid: "I just wanted to say keep up the weight loss. You look really good."

BM: "Thanks, chemo will do that to you."

BM: "Thanks, the side effects of binging and purging are AMAZING."

BM: "Thanks, go fuck yourself."

BM: "Thanks, go fuck yourself you roid infested, shrunken ball loser. I hope your dick shrivels up and falls off. In your wife's mouth."

Thank you, I'm officially over it.

Fun Monday: Doodle edition

2008-10-13T21:05:00.003-04:00

It has been a few weeks since I've participated in Fun Mondays, simply because Monday is no longer fun for me. Thank you career! But here I am, trying to carve some time in my schedule for a task that I very much enjoy.

This week our host is 9 Acres and here is her challenge:

Your job is to doodle this week. Start with the number 9, for Nine Acres, of course. Draw the number 9 in red and then use a different color for the rest of your doodling. That way we can all see where the original 9 was in your doodle. It is up to you how you incorporate the 9 into the doodle. It can look like something we know, or it can just be shapes. It can be colorful, or can be one color, besides the red 9. When you are finished with your doodle, take a picture of it or scan it and post it on Monday.

I don't very often doodle because I am in front of customers all day. I think though that some of my more, shall we say uninterested customers, probably wouldn't even notice if I started doodling in front of them. Some of them might also not notice if I striped down and did the polka in front of them while singing the Star Spangled Banner. Professors tend to be a boring and sometime side-tracked bunch. Now if I striped naked and danced while reciting the elements of the periodic table, I might get their attention. And a large book order.

So, given that I don't doodle often, when I do doodle, it is always the same doodles. You can view my doodles by clicking here. I will caution you that watching me doodle is a slow and boring process. Not at all like my nude Star Spangled Banner number. But lucky for you, there is a button which you can push to speed up my doodling. I would recommend speeding it up unless you are fresh out of Tylenol PM.

Once my doodling task was complete, I was to visit this site so that they could be interpreted.

Here are my findings:

My doodles prove what I have known for years: that I am a psycho who needs daily therapy sessions. And piles of Xanax and Lithium, just like Britney Spears. More specifically they reveal the following:

I am aggressively ambitious, yet romantic, with a strong desire to blossom and be fruitful in life. Kinda sounds like a description of a fine wine. Apparently I am a hermaphrodite because I not only doodle the most popular female doodles, but I also draw boxes which are manly doodles.

The mystery comes into play with my ‘house’ doodles. Now I don’t draw them because I want to draw a house, I draw them because it is a game I learned in 6th grade. You must draw the house, without lifting your pen from the paper. As you can see from my live doodle feed, I am very good at this. I am not good at fractions, because I was a bit too preoccupied with the house challenge. But please don't tell my 6th grade teacher. My sister and I were her favorite students....I would hate for our images to be tarnished.

So there you have it. A bit of insight into all that is Crazy Big Momma. Now go make your Monday fun and visit the rest of the participants!

The hardest part

2008-10-11T21:46:00.004-04:00

Tom Petty famously sang "The waiting is the hardest part." For some reason today, I couldn't get this lyric out of my head. It is probably because, even though I love this song, I couldn't disagree more. Parenting is the hardest part. Let me be more specific: Parenting a teenager is the hardest part. And trust me that it is THE hardest when a girl in 4 inch pink heels comes to your door, picks up your son and drives off with him.

Without even a second glance in your direction. Not just from her, but from him.

Especially when, prior to driving off, you can see the sparks in their eyes as they look one another over. Him as handsome as ever in a black suit, tailored to fit his broad shoulders and lean frame. Her as gorgeous as ever, reminding you of a young Julia Roberts, in a dress without straps and the aforementioned heels. Pink heels. Did I remember to tell you that they were 4, FOUR inch heels. How scandalous!

At least it was for me.

I am starting to realize that my efforts to keep him MINE are pointless. And probably a bit selfish. An infinity of my homemade bread loaves, cookies and chicken papriksh do not matter. There is nothing I can do to keep him as mine and mine alone. He will always be a part of me, but not mine exclusively. And for this mere fact, I am sad. At 16, he is like a rubber band. Pulling one minute toward his friends, girlfriend etc., at the same time getting farther from me. Another minute rebounding to his father and myself because we are good and safe and still comforting to him. The strings of his rubber band seem to oscillate faster and faster with every waking moment. I am just afraid that his rubber band will succumb to the pressure and break, flinging him far, far, far away from me. But, no matter how far he is flung, I will immediately set out on my way to collect him and bring him back.

Fling. Flang. Flung.

Fe. Fi. Fo. Fum.

I certainly am the biggest dum dum.

A sucker. A complete sucker. But I just can't help myself.

Prior to any teen oriented activity which takes place outside of my home, I always go over the rules with Jr. No drugs, no drinking, no smoking and most importantly no sex. Always be a gentleman. And he knows what I mean by this, because we painfully, at least for him, had the conversation about this a few months ago. You must remember that I am shameless in my topics of discussion with him. Nothing is off limits. I feel that by reviewing the do nots, they will not happen. Whatever gets me thru the day, right?

I have a ritual that I do as he walks out of the house, as I am pathetically watching from the front door. I say under my breath "Don't have sex. Don't have sex. Please, don't have sex."

I guess I am hoping that if Jr. hears my Tom Petty song, he will agree with Tom. The waiting is the hardest part. Because he is waiting, just like I've asked him to do.

Deja vu

2008-09-29T20:51:00.003-04:00

I hate to get political, but Holy Cow, America! Does this remind you of this? There is a reason that beauty queens should not run for office. Besides, I don't think I could listen to Palin's voice for 4 years.

I can't wait for the VP debates. Set your TiVo's people, it is guaranteed to be good and worth a replay or two!

As if you needed another reason NOT to vote for them

2008-09-24T23:15:00.002-04:00

What you didn't know about the Republican Candidates will shock you.

Die Celine, Die!!!

2008-09-24T22:22:00.003-04:00

I seem to be in a bit of a funk the last few days. I'm blaming it on the friend who had the nerve to call me on Monday and ask if I wanted to go see Celine Dion. Even I'm not that lame. But alas, I know that my heart will go on......hang on please, I just barfed in my mouth.

Ahem.

Proof that the internet is full of crap!

2008-09-11T23:16:00.003-04:00

Tonight I had dinner and drinks with some girlfriends. These are girlfriends that have known me my entire life. We find when we get together, no topic is off limit. Because I generally am interested in CRAP, we were discussing our recent BMs and how mine of late have been green. Not Kermit green, more of a military green, in case you were wondering. My sister, in her infinite wisdom, told me to look on the internet in order to figure out what was going on. Here is one of the more interesting sites that I found:

green poop and stomachaches
Posted 02.18.2004 by Poonurse (1313)

Michelle asks:
My five year old has had bright green bowel movements for about a week now and has also complained about stomach aches quite a bit. What do you think?

Hi, and thanks for the question!
Maybe it's just me, but I would take her to a doctor. There is no way to know over the internet what is wrong with her, and especially no way for a site such as PoopReport, which deals comically with poop issues, to give you any other advice.

Hope she is ok! Look carefully at what she has been eating over the past few weeks.
Please be advised that I am only a Poonurse. I am NOT a medical doctor. Any advice I give should be taken moderate skepticism. Please consult a REAL medical doctor if you feel you have a serious medical condition.

-- Poonurse

Poonurse is an RN with 25 years experience in labor and delivery. Her qualifications include seeing a lot of poop, and owning a computer. Also, she works in Michigan, which she calls the asshole of the universe, so that's another bit of credibility. Got a question for her?

Holy Shit! I've missed my calling. I had no idea that a Poonurse was even a career option. I have to agree with her advice, mainly because she admits that Michicagan is the asshole of the universe. Go Bucks!!!!!

More reasons why I am seriously troubled

2008-09-05T21:15:00.005-04:00

I just finished prepping the house and food for a party we are hosting tomorrow night. Not the kegger party of my youth, but a nice refined BBQ with 30 of my closest friends. It will, probably, be crazier than a keg party because of this simple mathematical equation:

Beer + Syringed jello shots (seriously, my nurse friend is bringing these) + a 35 and older crowd = crazy party animals that don't get out of the house enough who will barf all over themselves and my dog and probably tumble to their death at the bottom of our ravine.

I can't wait.

Thankfully, I have 911 programmed into my speed dial. I may or may not call, depending on who falls over. I may in fact just leave the carnage in hopes that it will decompose and transform my shitty clay soil into soil that is worthy of Mr. Green Thumbs.

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

Actual convo between my mother and I tonight:

BM: Hi Mom.

MOBM: Hi BM. Are you drunk yet?

BM: No, I'm just getting things ready for tomorrow.

MOBM: Wow, that is a first. Don't you know that it is beer thirty? How are things going?

BM: OK, but I am worried that I don't have enough food.

MOBM: Tell me what you have. And please tell me that you got me a bottle of Yager. You know I can't get down with my bad self without a few shots....

BM: I've got ten pounds of burger meat, 20 brats and 20 cheese infused sausages. I also made cole slaw and a few other sides. One L (sister) is bringing her world famous cheesy taters. A few others are bringing appetizers. You think that will be enough?

MOBM: How many people?

BM: About 30, give or take.

MOBM: Well, I don't know. Maybe you should go out and get some more meat. And make some potato salad. People like potato salad.

And so on and so forth. You get the idea.

Both of my parents, but especially my mother, are famous for making 100X more food than necessary for a party. My sister and I have inherited this trait from them. I have never done a Punnet Square to prove this, but I have enough empirical data to prove it. I am going to start a support group for this: Overfeeders Anonymous.

I have come to the conclusion (because I'd rather sit down with a beer and not worry) that if we run out of food tomorrow we will have the following choices:

1. Cannibalism. I know of at least one small child who will be attending. Everyone knows that children taste good. Like veal.

2. I will channel Jebus and have him turn my ten pounds of meat into enough to feed millions. Hopefully he will provide us with some delicious bread as well. It might be kind of awkward though, when I ask him to leave the party post-miracle. You see, he didn't RSVP. Plus I don't want to hear all night how there is no hope to save my soul from the eternal fire of hell since I frequently say his name in vain, in nasty, albeit creative ways. The guilt I got from attending 10 years of Catholic school is enough to last a lifetime, thank you very much.

3. Raid neighbor's garden.

4. Order pizza.

5. BBQ the dog. But she is old and probably not very tender.

So there you have it, I'm moving on. Even though I am still torn between option 1 and option 4.......

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

Yesterday I was working in Mansfield, and then Marion, so I stopped at a farmer's market in order to get a few things for the party. I picked up 2 watermelons as I am making a delicious watermelon salad. They were the mini ones that don't have seeds. When I got home and carried them into the house, I actually held them up to my existing boobs and imagined what life would be like with huge, melon sized fun bags. I seriously wonder sometimes if I am in fact a 15 year old boy.

Wikipedia is a bitch. A young, wrinkle free bitch.

2008-09-01T21:33:00.010-04:00

9:34pm, Monday, September 1. In a few short hours, I will go to a place that I have never gone before. It is not a place that I thought I would ever go. It isn't glamorous or worth visiting again, but it is a place that I will be stuck in for the rest of my life.

The place you ask? Middle aged purgatory.

The US Census lists middle age as 35 to 44, while Erik Erikson sees it ending a little later and defines middle adulthood as between 40 and 65. I think Erik Erikson, man with two first names, you are my new best friend.

Tomorrow I turn 35. Tragic, isn't it? Now don't you dare post, "I'm 55 and I haven't had a solid shit in 15 years, shut up you twit!" This is my blog and I'll cry if I want to. To me, 35 sounds so suburban, responsible and I guess a little boring. I am grinding my heels into the ground. I will not go without a fight!

Since I no longer am a researcher by trade, I am allowed to look to the eternal source of information, Wikipedia for facts. Here is what they say:

"Some people [5] challenge the concept that middle age is something to dread. They assert that with the right attitude and careful planning, middle age can be truly a person's best years." When I clicked on the "5" reference, I got nothing. I'm certain now that "5" must be the manufacturers of Metamucil. "5" clearly has no idea what it is talking about. This is a scam to get us middle aged folk to buy crap that we probably don't need, but buy because it will reduce the lines on our faces and allow us a few good, healthy non-roid inducing craps each day.

Wikipedia goes on to say:

"Those age-positive groups range from advocacy groups such as the American Association of Retired Persons (AARP) to purely social clubs like the Red Hat Society." Um, I'm pretty sure I typed in middle aged, 35 and not, middle aged, almost dead. If say, in another 30 years I'm posting about my new cool lady friends from the Red Hat Society, please kill me.

The "Health" section spells out all that I have to look forward to:

1. "Middle-aged adults often show visible signs of aging such as loss of skin elasticity and graying of the hair." Yes and yes. You think you can scare me?

2. "Physical fitness usually wanes, with a 5-10 kg (10-20 lb) accumulation of body fat, reduction in aerobic performance and a decrease in maximal heart rate." I'm guessing that the decrease in max heart rate leads to death. I can get past the death part, but the 10-20 pounds! Of fat! Seriously, no! If I have to take up binging and purging, so help me god I will. Damn you.

3. "Female fertility declines significantly after age 30, and an advanced maternal age increases the risk of a child being born with some disorders such as Down’s Syndrome. Some conditions are also correlated with advanced paternal age. Most women go through the menopause, which ends natural fertility, in their late 40s or 50s."

Now we're talking. Finally, to the benefits. Menopause. Ahhhh. The freedom. No tampons in the purse, no need to swap your cute undies for your grotesque granny pants for fear of ruining said cute undies. No bloating, pain or bitchiness. Count me in, where do I sign?

4. The "Further Info" section list this reference: "Does Age Quash Our Spirit of Adventure?, a segment on NPR's "All Things Considered" on an aging study done by middle-age neuroscientist Robert Sapolsky." Oh NPR....I have loved you for so long. Now you are turning on me, you bastard. I guess I'll have to start listening to Sunny 95.

5. The "See also" section lists: youth, young adult, old age, aging and mid-life crisis. From now on, I am boycotting Wikipedia. You suck slimy dick balls. Old, wrinkly dick balls.

It is now clear to me that Wikipedia, like it's cousins Facebook and YouTube are plots engineered by the youth of today to drive the middle aged crowd insane. While I teeter on the brink of insanity AND death, Ms. Facebook and Mr. Napster are out on their 50 foot yahcts, drinking Cristal with P-Diddy laughing all the way to the bank. At least I hope they pour one out for their middle-aged homies.

Bitches.

Zed is dead, baby

2008-09-01T21:01:00.004-04:00

And I know this because he died in my stomach, several times.

On Friday, we packed up the family truckster and headed to Chicago. My city. The city that I love more than Dove Chocolates and cookie batter. The city that I love even more than Dove Chocolates dipped in cookie batter. I haven't seen my niece and nephew in many months, so we paid them, and the rest of the Big Momma clan a visit.

One of the reasons I love Chicago is because of the food. So many choices, so little time. The only thing I didn't eat was my niece and nephew and not because I didn't try. They are so very cute and yummy looking. I told Mr. Big Momma that I wanted to melt them down and spread them on some delicious, crusty french bread and nom, nom, nom, nom them until I couldn't eat another bite. But, thankfully for my clan, Mr. Big Momma shoved an Italian Beef in my mouth and I quickly went on with my day.

My BIL E is the master of restaurant selection. Not that he could really pick a bad spot in Chicago, but he truly looks at it as an art form. Saturday night we went to ZED which is one of those Brazilian meat places. For the bargain price of $55 per person, you can eat as much delicious meat as you can handle. There are magic rocks on the table, that when put next to your plate, POOF, meat shows up. I thought that I must have died and gone to heaven. At least until the next morning when Zed died a gruesome death inside my tummy. I got the died part right, but heaven it wasn't. Next time I will need to show some restraint or master the art of binging and purging. Not sure yet which I will choose.

If I were in the Olympics....

2008-08-20T16:23:00.003-04:00

The more amusing side of the training of an Olympic athlete. The one that no one speaks of.

Big Momma: cost saving extraordinaire

2008-08-19T11:56:00.004-04:00

We have not had AC in the Big Momma household for at least 2 years. I have never cared much as I like to have the doors and windows open in the summer. A few weeks ago, the Mister had some companies come out and take another look. You see, he is a very sweaty man and AC is just as important to him as sex. Apparently all that was needed was a new valve thingamabobby. A $400 valve thingamabobby. So like fools with money to burn, we agreed.

Today 2 guys came to replace the valve. After they left, I call Mr. Big Moma to tell him that his sweaty days and nights are over: the AC finally works! Here is the actual conversation:

BM: "Hi honey. The AC guys just left."

MBM: "Is it working?"

BM: "Well, my nipples are hard!"

MBM: "Sweet. How did you pay them?"

(This question shocked me because the 2 of us searched the entire house to find our checkbook, which seems to always be missing even though we hardly ever write check.)

BM: "With sex."

MBM: "Good girl. Always saving me money. Love you shit head."

BM: "Love you mother fucker."

Fun Monday: The Quiz Mastress strikes!

2008-08-17T20:09:00.004-04:00

Lisa over at Lisa's Chaos is our lovely hostess for this week's Fun Monday. Her challenge to us is:

What is one thing you would like to ask your readers? Come up with a question to pose to your visitors and throw it out there on Monday. As we’re all visiting each other’s Fun Monday posts we should answer the various questions we come across.OR Show&Tell me about a bird, I’m easily made happy.

Now I would love to chicken out and show and tell about a bird, but sadly, on my list of fears, birds rank #2. This is a tough one because I'm almost certain that the only people that read my blog, outside of the traffic on Monday, are a few friends and family members. Reaching international blogging fame is high on my list of hopes, but it hasn't happened yet.

I will say that this challenge reminds me of a topic that comes up frequently between my mother, sister and myself. As we sit and chat, ok, gossip about others, we always ask, "What do people say about us?" We are not necessarily a catty bunch, but we have come up with nicknames over the years for those who interest us the most. A few of my favorite:

The Breads: Big Bread and Little Bread. They are brothers who grew up eating nothing but white bread and cheese. Even at Thanksgiving. Even when my Uncle took us to McDonalds.

Big Head Bread: My cousin and cousin of Big & Little Bread. I'm positive that her head weighs more than her entire body.

Alice Cooper: Mother of BHB. When people ask who this so and so is, we will say look for Alice Cooper. They always pick right. And then laugh hysterically.

Tire Gut: Mother of Big and Little Bread. I guess she ate all of the normal food in their house and it took its toll on her waste line.

Little Head: some guy that my mom sees at a local pub. She doesn't know him from Adam.

I could go on, but I think you get the point. So for this FM challenge, I am going to cheat a bit and use a slight variation on this theme.

Here are the things that I would like to ask my readers:

1. Does anyone outside of my friends and family actually read this?

2. Who do you perceive me to be? A mean, nasty and bitter woman who swears too much? A total neurotic that needs to be locked up ASAP? Someone who uses entirely too much hand sanitizer?

3. What would you like to know about me that you don't already? Would you like to know what I look like? Do you wonder if my butt really is that big (I do look like one of those rap guys girlfriends)? Does you wad or fold your toilet paper before wiping? How does your husband put up with your crap? Don't blow your wad asking this one. I can tell you the answer: percocet. Lots of percocet. Washed down with vodka.

I know what you are thinking, too many questions. They call me the Quiz Master for a reason. So I guess my point is, ask me anything that you want. Other than asking my true identity. Because if I told you that I'd have to kill you. And that would be unfortunate for me because then I'd have one less reader. And I promise you that I don't have any to spare!

A few quick shout outs.....

Today is Mr. Big Momma's birthday. He is 29 plus 12. And not a gray hair on his head. Lucky bastard.

This is my 100th post! Yeah me. I hope you can see the confetti flying.

Gay Loving Loser Seeks Bus Rides, Long Walks on the Beach and Plenty of Hand Sanitizer

2008-08-15T22:50:00.008-04:00

I am pretty sure that is is 2008, but I'm wondering how that could be since I am composing this post ON PAPER, using an actual PEN. How the hell did writers function before the laptop was invented? I seriously don't know what day it is and I haven't all week because the EVIL IT people have taken my beloved laptop. I got a call from them today and they told me that it isn't doing well and that they were about to administer last rights. Please, say a prayer for me. A rosary or two would be nice. You could throw in a few stations of the cross for good measure. You would if you really loved me.

You know how you hear stories of people losing limbs and they say that they can still feel the limb even though it is long gone? I totally know how they feel, in a less dire way. I believe there is a clinical name for my syndrome and it is called Phantom Laptop Syndrome, or PLS for short. All of the diseases worth getting have an abbreviation. I learned that in College.

Anywho, I have been wanting to post about my Girls Gone Wild weekend in Chicago but haven't because writing on paper first sucks a dong, like no dong you've ever sucked before. Trust me on this.

So here is a quick recap.

**First, the weekend deserves a new moniker. So instead of GGW, I am going to go with Big Momma is a total loser. Not as sexy I suppose, but more accurate. I admit, as I have many times before that I am a total fargin loser. I probably should have reminded T this before my visit. A nice note, on custom stationary would have been appropriate. If I had written this note, it probably would have gone like this:

Dear T,

I can't wait to see you next weekend. I'm sure we will have a great time, as long as you can keep me up past 8 o'clock. Let me know if there is anything I should bring, but rest easy knowing that I will bring the good contraband: a healthy supply of Vicks Vapo Rub and prunes. Just make sure you replenish your stock of Werther's Originals. I'll be there with bells on, or Depends Undergarments, depending on what I have for lunch that day.

See you soon BFF.

Love,

Big Momma

***T mentioned that there was a good band playing on Friday at 10 and I was like "am or pm?" I love a good band as much as the next gal, but find that band venues a. are loud, b. are crowded, c. have bathrooms that generally do not have TP and d. exist at night when the scary people come out. Because of these known observations, I rarely go see live music anymore. So instead of seeing the band, we went back to T's pad and played Scrabble like the respectable 85 year old woman that were are. And when I say we, I really mean me.

***The Museum of Contemporary Art is a great place to visit, especially if you like to see art in the form of cock and balls. You think I am kidding, but I assure you dear readers, that I do not joke about art or cock and balls. Jeff Koonz was the main exhibitor and it was fabulous. I saw things that I had never seen before. And yes, there was more than just cock and balls.

The CAB (as a former Catholic, I can only say cock and balls so many times.) art was sectioned off from the rest of his exhibit. I'm told there was a WARNING sign, but I did not see it. So you can imagine my shock when I walked in. I am not a prude, but seriously, CAB and the MCA? How scandalous. I so do not belong in the big city.

***One of the many reasons I love Chicago is because of the diversity it offers. The Food. The People. It is a city that truly has something to offer everyone. T mentioned that we would be going to a festival on Saturday night. And let me tell you, this wasn't just your average festival. This festival served their elephant ears with a side of gay. Yes, T and I went to the largest gay festival this side of the Mississippi. And let me tell you, it was FAAAB-U-LOS! I realized, very quickly that people probably thought that I was her bitch. But I didn't care, I was in gay heaven. Gay men are so much better than straight men because they work out obsessively so that they can walk around without their shirts one. And that they did.

***I love that Chicago has such great public transportation. This is something that we here in Cbus will probably never experience. I love The COTA and all, but I have to admit that it is a bit scary. And limiting. I parked my car when I got to Chicago and didn't get back into in until I left. However, I am thankful l that my purse sized bottle of hand sanitizer lasted me the entire weekend. Another think I should have warned T about.

***T totally cock (there I go again) blocked me from our bus driver. The one bus we rode was so crowded that the only place for me to stand was directly next to the driver. Like I was the co-pilot. I loved it because I had a wonderful view of the road ahead. T told me that I looked like a dog staring out of the front door, wagging my tail with glee at the people going past. For some reason I have always been fascinated with bus drivers. Another one of my weirdo things that makes me the nut that I am. T eventually pulled me back to the middle of the bus because she was fearful that I would strike up a convo with the driver. Good thing she did because I was just about to let my questions fly. I would so like to get into the mind of a bus driver. I keep a mental list of questions I would ask. Honestly, my list is organized in an Excel Spreadsheet. Seriously. Here is the short list:

Subset One:

1. Why do you wear gloves?

2. Do they help you drive better?

3. Do you have to buy them or does the CTA provide them, along with your uniform?

Subset Two:

1. Do you make a lot of friends while driving? I assume that you have a ton of regulars that you 'ride' every day.

2. Have you ever secured a date from one of your passengers? I think bus driving is probably a great way to pick up chicks.

3. Have you ever caught someone having sex on the bus late at night?

4. Are you drunk?

And finally, the mother of all questions: What do you do when you have to go to the bathroom?

Don't worry, I am getting the professional help that I need. It is just taking time to stick.

***Sadly, we did not see Barack, Oprah (thankfully because I probably would have been arrested for kicking her teeth in) or John Cusak. T's friend L had seen John in Chi town a few weeks ago and our collective nipples got hard at the mere thought of seeing him live and in the flesh.

I am thinking that there is probably a 15% chance that T will invite me back. If she does, I am so there. Thanks for the memories.

The Chicago Formula:

Barack Plus Friendship

Times Ru Paul

Minus Oprah to the Oprah power

Equals a weekend that I won't forget!

Fun Monday: Crabby Edition

2008-08-11T19:02:00.005-04:00

I knew when I went to bed last night that today, MONDAY, would suck. This is because the first thing on my to do list was to call IT. While I made it out of Chicago without a hangover or a cold from all of the icky germs on the train, my laptop wasn't so lucky. If only there was hand sanitizer for the laptop. And yes, I am that nerd that takes her laptop everywhere. Yes, I am that freak that checks her work inbox while on vaca. So don't even start telling me that I need some down time and I should just enjoy myself while away. You are wasting your time. I have already tuned you out.

So I called IT when they opened their doors at the not so early hour of 9. I did not have a working computer until 3:30. But, at least it is working now. I am not going to even tell you about my experience. You think I'm crabby? Well then, you should call someone who works at an IT help desk. Talk about needing a vaca.... I think some of them just need a good old fashioned romp in the sack to loosen them up. A good, hard, dirty, nasty romp in the sack.

Because of my computer troubles and because said troubles forced me to work late in order to catch up, I am just now, at 7pm, getting started on my Fun Monday challenge. Here it is:

Show me your favourite photograph and tell me why it's your favourite.

Please stop by and visit the others at this week's host site, http://aojthelurchers.blogspot.com/.

This challenge one was a tough one for me. Even though I didn't have to think for more than a second about what my favorite (favourite does sound more charming, doesn't it?) picture is . It is one of me and Jr., taken many years ago. (See a few posts down if you'd like to know more about it.) However, because I choose to remain anonymous, I can't post it. Poop. So there I was, after receiving this week's challenge, racking my brain trying to come up with something. Lucky for me, my brilliant friend T came to the rescue. She suggested posting the picture that I have as the wallpaper on my laptop.

This is a pictre that Mr. Big Momma took 2 years ago at the Indianapolis Grand Prix. I have it on my wallpaper because I find it to be an inspiration. And not just because I wish I could jump that high!

The "jumper" is Michael Schumacher, the most kick ass driver that F1 has ever seen and will likely see for some time. In the Big Momma household, we don't refer to him by his name, but as "The Great One." He is my favorite driver. I actually shed tears when he announced his retirmend two years ago. This picture is inspirational to me in many ways. Because I am crabby, you will get them in list form:

1. It reminds me to work hard. Sometimes we all need a reminder that hard work pays off.

2. It reminds me to celebrate every victory, great and small.

3. It reminds me to get in my workouts. Only someone as acceptionally fit as TGO could jump this high.

4. It reminds me to be glad that I am on such good teams. My work team, the team that is my family/friends, even my tennis team, the Krazy Krushers. All of my teams are filled with tremendous people that make my life easier and more fun to live. None of the people on my teams forget that in order to succeed, you have to work together. During press conferences, after a win, TGO would frequenly thank his Ferrari team, even the janitorial staff. This is a good reminder that no matter what one's role is on a team, they are just as important as the next guy or gal.

5. It reminds me of the happy day my family had at this race. F1 has been a part of our family vacation for many years. The three of us all love F1. The hours we have spent watching races, whether live or on TV are priceless. It is my dream that Jr. will marry an F1 addict. We will spend our family vacations together, traveling the world and watching F1. I will buy his children

Ferrari shirts that they will wear until they are rags. I also dream that married Jr. will live next door to us and bring his family over for Sunday dinners. I also dream about how much I will love his wife and the many pedicures we will get together. I dream of this closeness, forever. Which leads me to #6.

6. This picture reminds me to dream big. Michael did, so why shouldn't I? Why shouldn't you?

7. It reminds me to never give up. There were plenty of seasons where Michael was put in a sub-par car. He always made the best of it. Because of his determination, he won 7 World Championships, more than any other F1 driver in history. You have to take what you are given and make the best of it.

8. It reminds me that Fernando Alonso (the dude on the left in the blue and yellow racing gear) IS and WILL ALWAYS BE a douche bag. He is my least favorite F1 driver. I love, love, love the words douche bag. Whenever I seem him I think "douche bag" and I laugh to myself. He, he, evil Big Momma. You have to get your kicks where you can.

So there you have it. My favorite picture and what it means to me. Now go have a good week!

Sweet home Chicago, with my best HO

2008-08-07T20:18:00.003-04:00

Well people, I have made it to the Windy City. The friend that I came to see, T is teaching tonight, so I have a few hours to spare before she meets me. She teaches English and I am sure that she uses her red nasty teacher pen to mark up the spelling and grammatical errors in each of my posts. Bitch. Anyway, I am happily waiting in the bar across the street from her apartment. T and I are having dinner once she arrives, so in the meantime, I decided to have a snack. Central time makes me hungry, mostly because it makes me feel ambitious….a whole extra hour added to my day. Woot! Per T’s recommendation, I ordered the chips with bleu cheese. Yummy. She actually told me earlier: “You should get the bleu cheese and chips if you are willing to cheat on your diet!” Girlfriend ( and when I say that I am snapping my fingers and looping my neck around in circle formation), how long have we been friends? Diet schmiet. Diets are for losers. And skinny people. I am neither. So as I sit here eating my chips and licking the sauce from my fingers in the most disgusting way, I’m wondering if I might be the first women ever to finish the entire plate by herself? I do feel like the people around me are whispering to one another, “I think she is going to do it. Look at her go!”

Friends like T are hard to come by. Not only is she one of my closest friends, I have been friends with her longer than another else in my life. We went to high school together, college too. In fact, the first time I had sex, I was wearing a skirt (yes, I was that scared…I didn’t take off my skirt during the act) that I borrowed from her. At that time, T and I were the last of the virgins. I remember going over to her house after doing the deed, giddy with excitement that my teenage body had done a very womanly thing. A thing that had scared me for so long. Even after the first time, I was scared. Scared that I would become addicted to sex, drop out of high school and whore myself about town. Mostly though, I was afraid that I would get preggers and not be able to go to college. This would hurt my parents so terribly, that they would glue my younger sister’s legs together and never let her leave the house. The fear of this caused me to hold off on my budding sexuality. I just wasn’t ready for the consequences. And beside, I found out like most girl do, that the first time isn’t that good. And if you are still thinking about me doing the nasty with her skirt, I did have it dry cleaned before I gave it back to her. That is just the way I roll.

It has been over 10 years since T and I lived in the same city. Thanks to Alexander Grahm Bell, we have never let the distance separate us. So I am super duper excited to be visiting her, in her new home of Chicago, for the first time. In many ways, my adult friendship making has been hindered by the relationships that I have with those close to me. Those people being T, my sister, mother and husband. The last job I had, I traveled about 60% of the time. I didn’t work out of an office, but out of my home. I had no idea how difficult it would be to make friends as an adult. My new job, one that requires very little travel, has changed all of that. I now know that I will be home every night and am able to commit to things that I couldn’t before. Tennis is my favorite of those things. I have met so many people over the last few years from tennis. There are a few that I am getting to be rather close with. But friendship takes time. And I have to tell you that sometimes I get impatient. But I have to remember that the friendships I have with my inner circle (very George Clooney, don’t you think?) took many years to develop. Besides, if you remember, George got his start on The Facts of Life, long after it had jumped the shark. I guess there is still hope for me.

Before: Duche fag with a bad mullet who works for Mrs. Garrett and goes rollerskating on the weekends with Tootie...

After: Award winning friend of Brat Pitt...

Ho Wednesday

2008-08-06T22:23:00.003-04:00

I can't believe how quickly the summer is moving past me. I feel like I've got nothing to show for it. Next week, I promise to change that. I am on my way to Chicago tomorrow to visit one of my oldest friends. Not that SHE'S old, I mean we have been friends for a long, long time. It is interesting that every time I have typed "Chicago" today, I mistype and spell it "Chicagho." Hmmm....there will be no hoing for me.....I am after all a very married lady. I have typed it more than normal because my OCD brain has had me look up directions a million times. Because my OCD is spiralling out of control today (as it always does right before a trip), here are some random thoughts from the brain of Big Momma:

1. Ho. Every time I say ho to Mr. Big Momma he always replies, "Ho problems." Apparently there is some dude in Florida that has a van with an 80's style mural on it and it says "Ho problems." Mr. Big Momma was lucky to have seen in a few years ago while in Florida for business. I'm even told that there is a picture of it that one of his colleagues took. If I had it, I would so post it for everyone to enjoy. I'm nice like that.

2. Last night the Krazy Krushers had their first game of the playoffs. It didn't look good at first, but we were able to pull it off. I started to wonder if our poor spelling skills were coming back to haunt us. I guess not, for now.

3. After tennis last night, we went, as we always do to O'Reilleys to indulge in some free pitchers. Thankfully we have a bar that sponsors us. Our old bodies rely on the beer buzz. I really think that beer has healing powers. Even Miller Lite. One of my teammates, who I do not know very well, was getting text messages from some married dude that she is screwing. He actually texted her, "wanna fuck?" How romantic. I am so glad to be out of the dating pool and not faced with the harsh reality of text dating. Or text booty calls. Or pervy old ho men who might think that a message like that is a turn on for a gal. Seriously guys, a little romance goes a long way.

4. I am a little sad that I won't be on the couch with Mr. Big Momma this Friday to watch the opening ceremony of the Olympics. This has been a tradition of ours for many years now. The Olympics is like crack, for dopey nerds like us. Go USA!

5. My next Fun Monday post is a really cool one: to post your favorite picture. This is a really easy one for me. My favorite picture is on my fridge. I look at it hundreds of times each day and it always brings a smile to my face. It is of me and Jr. when he was about 3 years old. I was in grad school and working on the weekends for a vet hospital. The vet had just gotten 2 lab puppies and asked me to watch them for the weekend while he was out of town. The picture shows each of us with a lab in hand, laughing. The kind of laughter where you are laughing so hard that your head tilts back. Jr., being an absolutely gorgeous boy has this cute little scrunchy face thing going on. Every time I look at that picture, I almost expect it to come to life. I expect to look down and have that adorable three year old standing by my side. Sadly, this never happens. Sometimes it seems like it was taken ages ago, other times it seems as if we took if just a few days ago. When I see it I also remember the follow up picture of Jr. napping on a pile of unfolded laundry with a puppy on each side of him. The three slept so peacefully. I wish he could get that kind of peace back in his life. I know that I am blowing my wad by telling you, the internet, about this picture. The reality is that I would never post it here. I have chosen to be an anonymous blogger, outside of the few family members and friends that know about it. Not only do I want to keep my identity out of this blog, I'd like to do the same for Jr. So, I'm back to square one, trying to come up with a suitable picture. I feel like I am in college again, searching for answers that don't seem obvious with a deadline looming over my head.

Well, enough thinking for tonight. I need to shut it down. Goodnight brain.

Number 1 vs. Number 2

2008-08-04T22:58:00.006-04:00

Well, it is official. I have been thinking (more than normal) about poo for the last 24 hours thanks to this week's Fun Monday challenge. See below if you missed it. A few random comments to close out the day:

1. I am shocked that my sister did not post to this. Not only is she an excellent crapper and a DADS veteran, her lifelong nickname is POOP. I couldn't make that up if I tried. No one seems to know why she is called Poop, but we do know that it is short for Poop-ca. I told you my family was weird. She also has one of the best poop stories for your money. I won't tell it since it is hers to tell, but I will tell you that it involves beer, beds and cupcakes. All of the makings of a great story, at least in my family. Love you guys!

2. My thoughts earlier today began transitioning from poo to pee. You see our Vet has asked for a pee sample from Sasha the wonder dog. I was a bit worried about how I would get this, even for a professional pee catcher. Many years ago as a grad student at Ohio State, I was involved in a study with the vet school. And when I say "involved," I mean I was their bitch. The vet school was trying to see how long certain enhancement drugs lasted in the urine of various animals. Every morning, I would have to get up and go collect the pee of 20 fat, poo splattered, lazy pigs. In order to do this, I had a long stick with a cup holder on the end. I would put my sample cup in and wait for a pig to pee. As soon as one would crouch, I would stick my cup stick under their pig business and hope for the best. I had to get up at the butt crack of dawn so that I could drive the 45 minutes to the farm and be there before the pee fest began. Pigs, much like humans, have peeing as their number one prioritory as they start their day. Sasha does not like to have someone watch her when she does her business, so I was fearful that all of my pee collecting experience would go down the drain. But, I was a successs right out of the gate. Yeah me...not all that I learned in grad school is a loss.

3. If it rains tonight, you have me to thank since I watered my flowers today. What a sad bunch they were. I hope they perk up by morning.

4. I am shit shocked that I wasn't tossed out of the Fun Monday group.

5. I have to go to campus tomorrow, so it most certainly will be raining. You can thank me or curse me, your choice.

6. I also have a great story about collecting horse semen, but I'll save that for another time. A time when you might be less grossed out. I think I have exceeded the gag limit for today.

Goodnight all. Sweet dreams. Hopefully mine will not be excrement filled. Unlikely since I ate sausage for dinner.

P.S. I typed pig, picture and peeing into Google and all I got was a bunch of nasty porn sites. And that is my public service message for the day.

Fun Monday: The Grand Poo-Bah

2008-08-03T21:46:00.005-04:00

My Fun Monday challenge for this week is to write about my favorite word. My new friends Jennifer and Emily came up with this challenge. To see their post and the others that participate, please visit their blog at http://www.mothersofbrothers.com/blog/.

There are many reasons why my husband and I get along so well. One of them is due to our shared love of the same word. It is a word that is heard frequently in our household (at least when Jr. isn’t over) and although some use it in a negative way, for us it is a term of endearment. However, because I have been asked to write a G rated post, I’ll have to go in another direction.

Which leads me to the last four hours. Four painful hours of having to think of my favorite word. Admittedly, I have been procrastinating. I’ve loaded the dishwasher, regrouted the bathroom and cleaned the dust that has settled between the keys on my laptop. Mr. Big Momma was out golfing, so I wasn’t able to tap into his witty helpfulness. When he got home, I told him of my challenge and of course he came up with the word that I mentioned above and will refrain from mentioning here. Darn. So like I frequently do when I am blocked, I ventured into the bathroom. My thrice daily duties (see where I am going with this yet?) and continued suggestions from Mr. BM (another clue) lead me to my answer.

Drum roll, please….

Poo.

Now I know that many of my Fun Monday counterparts will probably come up with intellectually stimulating answers that will required me to dig out my dictionary. I however, am not this gifted. I am not a writer. I am much more of a talker who struggles to get my talk into words to which I can post on my blog. It wouldn’t surprise me at all, if after this post, I get a polite request from the people at FM asking me to leave their group. But, I have never been one to shy away from speaking my mind. And if they do ask this, I will revolt by starting my own group, Fun Tuesdays, where only R rated posts will be accepted.

Anyway, why poo? I love the word poo for many reasons. It makes me laugh when I say it. “Aww poo is a nice alternative to awww s***, for those G rated moments in life. “Holy poo” is another variation. Not only do I enjoy saying it, I very much enjoy doing it. This phenomenon, for you non-poo people out there is called Poo-phoria. I learned of this phenomenon by reading the book “What Your Poo is Telling You” by Josh Richman and Anish Sheth, M.D. This is a brilliant book that provides insight into your health by examining your poo. Not really a book suitable for your coffee table, but a great addition to your bathroom reading. I truly am a better and healthier person because of this book. It is a great way to pass the time while pooing and provides countless laughs to those who visit my loo.

I grew up in a family that frequently discussed our bathroom antics. My whole family is a poo loving bunch! You might even say that poo is the glue that binds my family together. “Family” was my first choice for this challenge, but talking about poo is so much more fun. At least for me. Over the years, as we have discussed our poo at great length, we were never savvy to the official language of pooing. The book WYPITY has now allowed us to more succinctly title our favorites. Some of them are:

Hanging Chad

The Chinese Star

D.A.D.S. or Day After Drinking Stool. This one has been a frequent topic over the years…

Deja Poo, which is also called “Haven’t I seen that somewhere before poo.” As corn lovers, this is another frequent poo topic that we enjoy during the summer months.

The Streak. Embarrassing when you go to a non-family member’s house, but a badge of pride with my clan. I have seen some award winners from my father. He is a true champion of poo. Olympic quality, gold metal poo.

So there you have it. Poo. Embrace it.

Update as of 11:16 pm on Sunday night. I'm starting to think my favorite word is lawyer, after seeing all that Mr. Big Momma is going thru with his ex tonight. I'll leave that to another post.

Random thoughts from the Sunshine State

2008-07-30T18:54:00.003-04:00

Aaah, the Sunshine State. Could also be called:

Rain to the left, sunshine to the right State
Sweaty State
Thankful for Deodorant State
Too far from home State
Hola, como esta State
The Depends State

Florida is not my favorite place to go. We always seem to go here for our summer meetings. It would make more sense if they sent us here for our January meeting. But, since I am the low Momma on the totem pole, I have no say. A few thoughts for the day:

1. I had made plans to go to dinner with a work friend tonight. She called a little while ago and suggested we make the short trip to Miami and eat there. With some of her other friends. I opted to stay in my room because 1. I hate driving with someone I don't know and 2. I hate being at the mercy of someone else. Plus, I am kinda tired of socializing.

2. For those of you who I told I was going to Orlando, you are probably wondering how above friend suggested we drive to Miami. They are not crazy.....I am an idiot. We are not in Orlando, but in Hollywood, Florida, where open containers are legal. Who knew? I only realized this while getting my boarding pass at the airport. Sometimes I scare myself.

3. I'm not sure, but I think I might have unknowingly joined a cult. At least it is a cult that sends me a paycheck every two weeks.

4. While checking into the hotel, they had all of us sign an official document stating that we would be checking out on 7/31/08 and that we would not ask to extend our stay. I found out yesterday that the reason for this is that they have a big, international convention meeting here tomorrow. Avon convention? No. Something really important and interesting? Important, no. Interesting, definitely. The International Swingers convention begins tomorrow. If only I knew that before signing the waver. Just kidding Mr. Big Momma...you are already more than I can handle!

5. I just got my next Fun Monday assignment. It is interesting, but the hosts are requesting that our posts be G rated. A true challenge that I am not sure I'm up for. Especially with those swingers on my mind.

6. My first thought regarding the swingers was: "Exactly what does one do at a swinger's convention." Um, duh, they swing! I just hope they sterilize the sheets....

It's Monday and it's fun: If I was king for just one day.....

2008-07-26T23:44:00.008-04:00

This week’s Fun Monday is an interesting one:

If you were ruler for a day/week/month/year (your choice on the time) you would...

And p.s., I’m posting early because I going to be in Florida, starting tomorrow for a work trip. Mr. Big Momma will be home all week, so don’t even consider breaking into my house to steal my stuff. And beside, we have ADT on our side. Ooh and don’t forget to visit the rest of the Fun Monday group at http://blog.mommywizdom.com/. It is after all, Monday…what else do you have to do?

My one simple rule: abolish stupid people. Ever day of every year. I would reign supreme.

In my heart, and per The Ohio State University, I am a geneticist. Charles Darwin is one of my heroes. So much so that I have a C.D. magnet on my fridge. Serious, huh? I don’t joke. For those of you who have been out of the loop for the last 100 or so years, Charles Darwin coined the phrase “natural selection” after doing many years of boring research on pea plants and the like. Not a very exciting man but a brilliant one none the less. Natural selection can be defined as:

“The process by which favorable heritable traits become more common in successive generations of a population of reproducing organisms, and unfavorable heritable traits become less common, due to differential reproduction of genotypes.” Thank you Wikipedia!

For those non-scientists out there, this basically means that as we, uh, get it on, if you know what I mean, the good live and the bad die. I’ve probably made this too simple. But really, it is a simple scientific concept.

I am sure that Darwin would applaud me in how I will use his scientific discovery to make my decision on what I would do if I was large and in charge. Hell, we would probably even get a paper published in “Science.”

To go back to this definition, and to get to the point, we will describe his terms in the following way:

Favorable heritable trait=intelligence

Unfavorable heritable trait=stupidity, or white trash, depending on when you ask me

Population=the world

Differential reproduction of genotypes=you don’t need to know as it won’t be on the quiz

A quick experiment to help you understand…..

Big Momma and Mr. Big Momma, after a wild drunken night at Bob’s Bar come home, tear each other’s clothing off and engage in a wild night of swing from the rafters sex. Because I am a terrible speller and he can’t seem to ever shut a cabinet door, our offspring would fail out of first grade and end up as a divorced adult because his/her lack of cabinet shutting skills would drive his or her spouse to the brink of insanity. Said child would die, thus not be able to reproduce (no swing from the rafters sex for you!) and these terrible traits would not be passed on to inevitably torture future generations. Whew! Assuming these traits did not exist in either of us, said child would be able to splice genes, leap tall building in a single bound (I am an excellent jumper despite having flabby triceps....you wave at me and I'll wave right back!) and build cabinetry that would shut itself. I say that only because Mr. Big Momma is a brilliant architect. Got it? Good.

Based on all of this scientific mambo-jumbo, I am sure you all are asking “why do stupid people continue to exist?” They should, based on Darwin’s ideas, have been weeded out long ago. I can assure you they exist because of alcohol. Drunk people have sex. Reckless sex. Which produces reckless, dumb offspring. Reckless dumb offspring continue to reproduce reckless dumb offspring. And so on and so on. You've seen Cops, right? This is where I come in. In a wave of my hand or a crinkle of my nose, I would wipe out those who swim in the shallow end of the gene pool. As a result we would have a world in which there was no war, no hatred, no credit card debt, and no mullets. No abusive spouses. No idiots talking on their cell phones while driving on the highway. And most imporantly, no flower pots made from old tires. Sounds good, doesn’t it? Welcome to the world of Big Momma. I hope you enjoy your stay.

The man, the myth, the legend, Chuck Darwin. Kinda hot in a nerdy way. I totally dig dudes with mutton chops, hence my infatuation with Elvis. The position of his left hand is a little creepy, don't you think? I wonder what he is hiding....the pea in his pod perhaps?

And his oh so fascinating peas! They look good enough to eat!

Weekend visitor

2008-07-26T13:38:00.001-04:00

Auntie Flo came by for a visit this weekend and boy, she is a bitch.

I can't drive.....55.....

2008-07-23T19:27:00.005-04:00

.....but he better!

Today I took Jr. to get his temps. We didn't end up getting it because I carried on like such a lunatic mother that I was escorted out of the DMV in handcuffs.

OK, not really. We didn't get it officially because I am an idiot and went to the wrong DMV. Actually Mr. Big Momma was the idiot because he told me which one to go to. Sorry babe! We were able to do all of the paperwork so that they could issue him his temporary license. It doesn't get activated until he passes the test. So here I have a 16 year old, something that looks an awful lot like a drivers license with my kid's picture on it and a husband who can't wait until he drives. I on the other hand, would be content to drive him around for the rest of his life.

And don't worry Columbus, I'll give you the heads up when he is legal!

Who links to me?

Don't believe the hype

2008-07-23T00:25:00.003-04:00

Actually, my homies from Public Enemy have it all wrong. Believe the hype. Walk, no RUN to the closest movie theatre. The new Batman movie is wicked awesome. And what they are saying about Heath Ledger is true!

If you are in Columbus, you should definately see this movie at Studio 35. Not only will you be able to scratch off your good deed ov the day by visiting a local business, they have the coldest and best beers in town.

Fun Monday

2008-07-20T21:00:00.005-04:00

I am going to try a little something new to shake me into submission this summer. I have decided to participate in Fun Mondays!!! Yippeeee!!!! This is a group of bloggers who comment on the same subject each Monday and then post. And, I’m told it is in fact very FUN. No misnomer here. Plus I thought it would give me the focus I have been lacking and maybe swing a few new readers my way each week. I have read thru some of the posts from the others bloggers and boy, are they a talented bunch. I hope I can meet the bar. Our delightful host can be found at http://irishcoffeehouse.blogspot.com/

Here is the topic: Careers- Then and Now

THEN: As a child day dreaming of what your future would hold for you, what did you want to be when you grew up? Did you ever pursue or achieve it?

NOW: If you could be trained and placed in any career beginning tomorrow, what would it be?

The beauty about a child dreaming of what they will be when they grow up is that anything is possible in that dream. There is no talent, education or motivation involved. It is simply a fantasy. And, there is no one in that fantasy telling the child that she “can’t” do something. It is sad that as adults, we sometimes forget to day dream and tend to believe someone when they tell us we can’t do something.

When I was a child, I grew up dreaming that I would sell college textbooks. OK, not really. I don’t think that anyone ever dreams of being a salesperson. But, sales does suite my personality and my competitive nature. Have any of you ever watched the show Friends? I’m guessing a couple of you have. Mr. Big Momma always refers to me as “Monica” because I am super duper competitive. He also makes fun of me because I frequently say “super duper.” What can I say, once a dork, always a dork. Which leads me to the first part of this challenge. I think like most children, I dreamt of being many things. Doctor by day, dancer, singer, professional tennis player/professional swimmer, college professor, Peace Corp volunteer by night. I have always liked singing, but those who have witnessed my karaoke stylings would tell you (and they are right) that I am a terrible singer. I like to think that what I lack in talent, I make up for in enthusiasm. I remember when the movie “Annie” came out. Tracy, one of my long term childhood friends (she has been, since high school referred to as “The evil Tracy B.”, but that is another story.) and I bought the soundtrack and we would practice our vocals. We dreamed of being picked for the next Broadway running of Annie. One day I bravely stood in front of my mother and let “The sun will come out tomorrow…” rip. If memory serves me correct, she laughed at me. Now don’t go thinking what a bad mother you must have had. My mother was outstanding and always supported what we wanted to do. I think the she laughed because I really thought that the tunage that was coming out of my mouth sounded good. The next Broadway singing sensation I was not. But, I have to brag that my karaoke version of “Baby’s Got Back” always rocks the house. A true crowd pleaser!

Looking back on my childhood, it isn’t really all that surprising that I ended up in sales. I got my first taste of babysitting, and making money when I was 13. After I secured my first regular gig, I literally pimped myself out to our neighborhood. I made fliers touting my skills and hand delivered them to anyone with children. I took babysitting classes and first aid classes in order to expand my business. I remember seeing dollar signs when a new development sprung up next to the one I lived in. If another girl had a regular gig, I would worm my way in and do my best to make the children and their parents NEED me to be their regular babysitter. After all, I was the best. I needed to be the best. If there was a fundraiser at school or Girl Scouts (mmmm, Thin Mints), I ran home from school, changed out of my uniform and immediately hit the pavement to peddle my goods. It was key for me to beat the other kids to our customers. I frequently fantasized about being the Top Seller. Not much has changed in all of these years.

The two things that I never dreamed about becoming were a wife and a mother. Thankfully for me, both happened. The kid kinda just happened. And not in the way you might first think. No random sex and broken condoms here! I didn’t go the traditional route to have children. Ten years ago, I married a man who already had a child. I haven’t looked back since. Sometimes you get what you need, without knowing that you needed it in the first place.

Now to the fun part. If I could choose any profession and practice it tomorrow, what would it be? I have to give you two answers: the fantasy one and the one that could actually happen. My fantasy job would be as a Formula One driver. F1 is the ultimate in motor racing. Fastest cars, biggest budgets, unbelievable strategy, cutting edge technology. Hands down. If you are a fan of other motor sports but not F1, then you are missing out. NASCAR is a hillbilly sport; F1 is the sport of the elite. I would make so much money as a driver that upon my retirement, I would buy my own team. Aaah….Big Momma racing. Kinda got a nice ring to it, don’t ya think? I would not just manage the team, but I would also serve as the team’s test driver AND technical director. Because I would be a F1 great, Mr. Big Momma and I would live next door to Michael Schumacher, the greatest F1 driver in the history of the sport. We would play tennis together, our families would vacation together and we would share witty stories about what to do with all of our coin and how to avoid paying taxes.

My dream job that will happen? I would like to return to teaching. As a Grad Student, I taught Biology at Ohio State for a number of years. I love sharing my knowledge with moldable minds. It is a huge rush to be able to get a student excited about Biology, especially when they are taking it as a non-major. I could teach now, but it just doesn’t pay the bills. See I have a Master’s Degree and a Ph, just not the D. Yes, I am a Ph.D. drop out. It is much more fun to admit if you sing it to the tune of “Beauty School Drop Out,” off the Grease soundtrack, thank you very much. Without the D, life around the Big Momma house would be more difficult. Master’s level teaching gigspay shit. While we do not have an extravagant lifestyle, we are happy with what we have going. One of the reasons that I made a career change to publishing was because us book reps don’t have much to do in the summer. This frees up my summer months and allows me to adjunct. However, my adjuncting dreams are on hold, at least until Jr. is out of the house. It is too much fun getting to pal around with him during the summer.

So, my message to you is to keep on dreaming! Not only is it a fun pastime, but you might be surprised to find that dreams really do come true.

I believe in the beat.

2008-07-18T08:55:00.009-04:00

Life right now couldn't be any better. Yesterday, I secured an adoption at Ohio State that I have been working on all year. It is the largest Chemistry adoption in the country. Fame and fortune are right around the corner. I'm sooo on my way to a corner office with a secretary sitting outside of it, waiting for things to type, or do whatever secretaries do these days. My company will be throwing money at me, buying me six thousand dollar shower curtains, houses in Europe, private planes people! Right now, you should take a moment to realize how greatful you are that you know me. That you will be able to say "I knew her when." Anyway, imagine my surprise when I roll out of the bed this morning, turn on the TV and see Breakin 2: Electric Boogaloo on my set! I almost panicked thinking, who am I going to call first? This is big news!!! Then I realized that everyone (meaning 2 people) who would want to watch it was already at work. My sister and I watched this movie over and over when we were kids. I think we even brought out the cardboard and tried to work our breakin moves. I love this movie because it has it all....rich girl/poor guy, good gang/bad gang, kids fighting to keep their community center, montages (something modern day movies need more of), break dancing. There is even a mini Michael Jackson. Oooh, and I almost forgot, it even has Ice-T!!! And when Boogaloo Shrimp and Shabba-Do start groovin, watch out! You can't hear me right now, but even though the movie is over, I am squealing like a schoolgirl. My nipples are even hard. OK, too much info, right? So right at this moment, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Remind me to buy a lottery ticket today......

Lost in emotion

2008-07-17T22:49:00.010-04:00

I have had many the random thought in my head all week. I wish I would have been more diligent and posted them, individually. But, I am a loser and lazy, so you get bullets. Long bullets, so sorry.

*Racism. Not something I think about every day. Probably because I am not a racist. However, yesterday, I went on a home tour, via boat with Mr. Racism himself. Unfortunately he is one of my family members. I wish I could say he is one thru marriage, but oh well. The boat tour was a fund raising event in Portage Lakes, Ohio. My Dad has a sweet pad there. Total chick magnet pad, yet he still remains with the same old lady. Hmmm. Another post. Anyway, on the boat with Dad, the old lady and several family members. One family member, who I'll refer to as Dick Weed, dropped the N word about 15 times. Last time I checked it was 2008. Totally inappropriate. But what do I know? I am just educated via one of the best institutions in the country. After the boat tour I drove with my father to meet Dick Weed and Mrs. Dick Weed. I told my father on the way that I hoped he would stop being such a racist pig. My Dad said, "Ooh Mrs. Big Momma, he isn't completely racist. You don't understand his generation." Point one: No, I don't understand his generation. Thankfully. Dirt is probably the only thing that would understand HIS generation. Point two: You either are racist or you aren't. There are no shades of gray when it comes to this issue. Thank you, I feel better already.

*If you are old enough to be a married woman, then you should be old enough not to wear a tennis skirt that 1. is too short (read: shows your butt cheeks) and 2. says "animal" on the ass. Every Tuesday night I participate in a competitive tennis league. It is in the rule book that after a match, you must go to O'Reilly's and have beers. Because we all are rule followers as most of us were raised Catholic, we go every week. I can assure you that the free pitchers of beer have nothing to do with it. This Tuesday we had more drinkers than normal. Every guy brought up "the animal", and I swear almost every guy was shocked by this. I believe this to be true because I'm sure none of them would have wanted their wife in such shocking attire. I also believe thought, that all of the men enjoyed her display and will be waiting to see what she wears next week. I can promise you that I will NEVER have my butt cheeks exposed or have animal printed on my ass. Wide load, maybe, but never animal. Maybe I am just jealous.

*I had lunch with one of my favorite Professors on Tuesday. I was telling him about Jr.'s dating situation. He actually asked me if I was jealous of her. No longer a favorite professor.

*Speaking of Professors, I was telling one (after being asked) about my educational background. Masters Degree, Ph.D. drop out. I was essentially classified as an "ABD," all but dissertation. He told me that he understood why I left because women have no business being professors. Jack ass.

*I have admittedly been listening to garbage music lately. Light rock. Gross, huh? Jason Mraz, Harry Connick, etc. Thankfully I have one cool friend, J, who lives in London. This girl could be a DJ, not because of my love of her choices, but because of other's love of her choices. I admit that I am not cool. My blog title really should be "Total Fucking Loser", "Farfigloser." For several years, she has provided her friends with her CD series, I Kiss You. I just received IKY 8 &9. There is a song on IKY 8 by Just Jack. One of the lines has provided me with a bit of confusion. It is: "You used to feel satisfied, now you feel like Mick Jagger....Jagger...Jagger....Jagger. What the fuck? No idea what this means. Mick is still famous, and rich, at least the last time I checked. I'm sure he has no problem getting laid every night. With that being said, how can he feel unsatisfied? He did sing "Satisfaction," but still. Ahhh, OK, I get it now. Duh!

*Back to Dick Weed and no common ground. He actually called someone a DP. Any ideas on what he meant? Actually, I'd rather not know. Scratch that thought.

*Is anyone still reading this blog?

*Out of the loop. At the end of last summer, I had a decent amount of viewers of this blog. I know that I didn't consistently post this Fall/Winter, and it is totally my fault for decreased viewership (is that a word?). Seriously, if you don't frequently post, you lose your voice. I hope that I can get mine back. I promise to do better. I need to do better.

*I have had serious problems keeping myself hydrated this summer, especially over the last few weeks. I get plenty of workout action in the summer. I have been drinking so much water that I am peeing every 15 minutes and can't sleep thru the night. Is this just something that happens as you get older? Input greatly appreciated. And please don't tell me about Depends. I have been thinking about trying them for years. Sad but true. Maybe I will for blog for reporting purposes only. Public service, if you will.

*Title of this post is from a Lisa Lisa and the Cult Jam song. If you know the song I am referring to, you are total douche bag, just like me. It does give me great amusement to know that Mr. Big Momma was crushing on Lisa Lisa in the 80s. I think he even sent her a love letter. Thankfully for me, she never replied. Oh Mr. BM, the life that you could have lead! How ironic that your first wife was a Lisa???

*Am I crazy because I watch "Flipping Out" on Bravo? He is a psycho, but my OCD brain can somewhat relate. Call my shrink, please!

*Am I fucked up because I would love to be a part of a "Cult Jam?"

*Jr. told Mr. Big Momma that Baby Momma told him, and I quote, "I love you but you make it hard for me to like you." How anyone cannot like this kid is beyond me.

*Speaking of Baby Momma, she called Mr. Big Momma to say that the clothes we attire him in are "not appropriate for her lifestyle." Maybe because we actually BUY him clothes? She wanted to come over today and take back all of "her clothes." I was paranoid all day that I would find her knocking on my door. Thankfully, I have 911 on speed-dial!

*Anyone missin on Friday trivia?

I met Andy Warhol at a really chic party

2008-07-12T14:57:00.002-04:00

If you know who sang those words, then we must be kindered souls for sure.

I wanted to make sure everyone out there read the life section of The Dispatch today. The article is about my brother in law and his kidney tranplant. There is a link below for those of you who missed it. It is a remarkable story and I am happy that they have their 15 minutes of fame. How fitting that today they are in Pittsburgh, hometown of Andy Warhol who once said "In the future, everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes." Enjoy kids!!!

http://www.dispatch.com/live/content/life/stories/2008/07/12/1_BEST_FRIENDS.ART_ART_07-12-08_D1_53AMO8U.html?type=rss&cat=&sid=101

I say goodbye, you say hello.

2008-07-09T17:45:00.005-04:00

And just like that, he's gone. I hugged him as hard as I could without crushing him and I watched him as he rode down our driveway. I knew this day would come, but I didn't think it would come this soon. I also didn't think I would take it this bad. What a fool I was.

Our half of the summer, with Jr. in our possession is over, at least according to the rules of Divorce Land. Ugh. How will I manage falling asleep tonight, without knowing that he is safely tucked in his bed? How will I wake up in the morning, knowing that I won't see his still sleeping frame, burrowed under the covers, in the bed as I walk by? I know this sounds dramatic, but this is the first summer he has been with us, half time. For reasons outside of our control. I know this isn't goodbye forever, but Monday seems like such a long time away. Our visitation is going to go back to normal: Monday/Wednesday/Every other weekend. It is going to take some time getting used to something that used to be so normal. Now normal just seems wrong and I'm not even done with day one yet. What's a girl to do?

Wheels in the sky

2008-07-03T23:57:00.008-04:00

The last full day of our vacation, we went to the Vancouver aquarium. It is super sweet, more like an aquarium plus Sea World. About half of the exhibits were outside.

During that day, I had several old lady moments. I was tired. We probably walked 100 miles the entire trip. I am, after all, nearing 35. Yikes! I decided to sit down and watch the sea otters play. While watching, I noticed a young boy compeltely zonked out in his stroller. I thought to myself how nice it would be if they made strollers for adults. Mr. Big Momma could push me around...I could take in the sites, rest a few minutes, etc. A few minutes I realized, they already do make such a thing:

They are called wheelchairs. OK, bad idea, moving on.

But what if....

Vacation, all I ever wanted....

2008-07-03T22:20:00.004-04:00

Just got back from our Pacific Northwest trip and it was fabulous. Pictures to come. Between the 2 guys, over 2300 pictures were taken. There were probably about 500 of me, looking dorky as usual. Something about those teenage boys who like to take goofy pictures of Mom....I have plenty of goofy faces, so there was no lack of a subject. And, I guess it is better he take pictures of me, rather than of all the hoochie mommas we saw on our journey.

I have to say that it is great to go away, but great in a different way to come home. Especially to a country that offers free refills on pop. I drink a ton of DC (British Columbia speak for Diet Coke, kinda cute, don't ya think?) and it is difficult for me to ration one pop for an entire meal. Oh, the troubles of my life, right?

The Big Momma's are unique vacation travellers. We tend to go to urban spots, park our car (if we even have one) and walk. It was nice to be in 2 cities (Seattle and Vancouver) that allow for such easy pedestrian travel. I wish Cbus was better in this way. It was also nice to be in cities that have hills and water, something that we definitely lack in this part of the country. The weather was great in both cities, the temperature never exceeded 80 degrees F. In Vancouver, they had record highs of 78 degrees F. The locals complained that it was too hot. Mind you, there is very little humidity. These people would melt in Cbus! I don't think that a drop of sweat was formed on my body the entire time. What lucky fools they are, eh?

I spoke with several friends tonight and was asked, "What was my favorite part of the trip?" Mt. Rainier was definitely a highlight. It is amazing to be in such a beautiful place, where there is still snow on the ground, even though the temperatures were around 55 degrees F. Kayaking came in as a close second. I never thought I would enjoy it as much as I did. Because Vancouver is the host of the 2010 Olympics, we were able to see much of the construction, including the Olympic Village. I wish we could go back for the Olympics, but we probably won't. Vancouver is expensive enough now...can you even imagine the cost of things during the Olympics?

Well, I'm going to sign off for now. More details to come. I think I'm going to run to Tim Hortons, throw back a few donuts and maybe drink a few Molson XXX.....go to sleep you hosers!

Confused in Clinvonville

2008-06-18T18:57:00.004-04:00

I think I am going to have to rename this site. I haven't been blogging much as I've been busy with my family life. Plus, I think I lost my blogging mojo. I think blogging is something that must be done frequently, so that you don't lose your voice, purpose or creativity. I think I've lost them all. Maybe even my mind as well....

My intent when I started this blog (almost a year ago!) was to blog about whatever I felt like. Life in general. It seems though, that I've got more parenting stuff to post about. That is where the name changes comes into play. Some possible suggestions:

Clintonville Baby Momma Drama
Help! I've fallen and I can't get up!
Quick somebody pass me a percocet with a vodka chaser!
Clintonville Second Tier Big Momma

I'd appreciate your suggestions.

So, with the new custody agreement, we are now able to take Jr. to counseling. The old agreement wouldn't allow him to go to counseling w/o his mother's approval. As you can imaging, she wouldn't allow this. Couldn't possibly do something in her son's best interest. I have been taking him to a Dr. that came highly recommended by our highly recommended lawyer. This is the third Wednesday that I have taken him. After his first two rounds, I asked him how it went. He said fine. I really just wanted to make sure that he liked her and felt comfortable talking to her. It is an effort for me not to pry. I am the original nosy Nelly. They don't call me "The Quiz Master" for nothing. But, counseling is personal and what he discusses behind closed doors is his business. Just because I want to tell the world about my realizations after a good session, doesn't mean he does.

Today when he came out, I swear to you, he was a different kid. He was sooo excited. Excited like she told him he didn't have to change his underwear ever again, that he could eat Jeni's ice cream every day, that he could get a TV in his room, an iphone, a laptop, you get the idea. When he walked out he had a folded piece of notebook paper in his hand. At first I thought maybe the Dr. was writing us a note that said, boy, you guys weren't shitting me, his mother IS a piece of crap. As we walked to the car, he told me that the paper was part of his homework. (Homework! I am loving this Dr. more and more.) His homework was to have a conversation with his mother and basically tell her that SHE IS FAILING HIM AS A PARENT. There is more to this story, but I'd like to keep the rest to myself. It sounds to me like she is trying to empower him to improve his relationship with his mother. He seemed happy to have the opportunity to talk to her about this. Didn't seem worried about it at all. It was like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. He told me that he now realizes that he was doing poorly in school to get back at his mother. He also, very maturely added that his grades are still his responsibility, but at least he understood WHY he was doing what he was doing. Or, NOT doing what he was supposed to be doing.

Wednesday is his time to visit with his Baby Momma, but we had an hour to kill after the Dr. before I took him home. We decided to have lunch. As he shoved his face full of food (remember, he is 16) I couldn't help but be excited for his self discovery. It was nice seeing him feel empowered and in control. But, since I've dropped him off, I've started feeling worse and worse. First worse because he is no longer in our care. Wednesday is tough for me in that way. Second worse because I started to think about how Baby Momma would react when he talked to her. I've started to wonder if Mr. Big Momma should call this Dr. to be sure that Jr. got the right message. So, I'm wondering what you all think about this??? Do you think that his Dr. gave him good advice?

BILs

2008-06-12T23:08:00.005-04:00

I have to tell you that I have the most amazing brother in laws. I appreciate them in so many ways. I am one of two girls, so getting four brothers via marriage has made me very happy. As I child, I longed for a big brother. Never got one. I always dreamed, as a youngster, that Scott Baio would be my older brother. As an adult, I realize that he is a total douchebag and I am lucky to have no association with him.

My BILs have in some way, shape or form amazed me in the last year. My Sister's husband N, had a kidney transplant earlier this year. The new kidney was transplanted on a Tuesday. We found out that Thursday that his new kidney had cancer. He had to undergo another operation in order to remove all of the cancer. A check up this week has shown him to be cancer free. Yippee! He is now doing extraordinarily well. We are referring to him as "The new N" since he has a rejuvenated outlook on life. Sweet. The New N is now my tennis partner and it is amazing playing with him. I remember not so long ago....the struggle that was his life. It is hard to believe that I am kicking his butt on the the tennis court each week! Sorry folks, I play to win. As Ricky Bobby says, "If you're not first, your last!"

My husband's youngest brother was diagnosed with cancer last year. He ended up having to have his eye, eyelid and all of the goo behind his eye removed. E won the fight on cancer and continue to fight in whatever life brings him. My husband's other brother (Mr. Big Momma has 3 brothers) was diagnosed at 24 with Type 1 diabetes. He was and still continues to be an athlete, never held back by his diabetes. Yesterday, he began a very long and tedious journey. He and 6 teammates started something called Race Across America. This is a bicycle race across the country. This is the second year he has participated. The team he is on (Team Type 1) is a team of all Type 1 diabetics. You can follow their progress by visiting http://teamtype1.org/. You should check it out. These people are truly an inspiration.

How about we all make a promise to one another? No complaining allowed. When life gets you down, you don't have to look far to find someone who has overcome something totaly amazing. Really, what do you have to bitch about?

No wire hangers here

2008-06-10T20:31:00.003-04:00

There is a spring in my step that is much springier than ever before!!! I hear the birds singing louder then ever before. The sky seems bluer. Why you ask? It is summer people! And for someone who works in college publishing, that means very little work. Last summer I found that I got a bit bored. But, it was my first summer and a. I didn't know what to expect and b. I didn't plan for it. Because the hours you put in when you work for a publisher are long and hard, you start thinking about summer by the end of January. You can't imagine doing anything but work and when you get the rare chance, you are too tired to do anything. So, when I had a few local community colleges offer me teaching positions for this summer, I was stoked. What a great way to enjoy the summer. I would still have plenty of time off AND I could get back into the classroom and influence young minds, make a difference.

Those of you who have read this blog know that I have a son who is 16. Scary but true. He is not my biological son, as he is the offspring of my husband and his first wife who I fondly (and I say that loosely) refer to as Baby Momma. She doesn't do much outside of holding this title. Jr. and I have been happily mother-sonning for over 10 years. He tells us that he can't remember his life before my involvement. I wish I could say that this was because of my stellar parenting skills, but it is a reflection more on his age at the time we were introduced. Several months ago Mr. Big Momma took Baby Momma back to court since she was prepared to pull him out of school and homeschool him. He also wanted to see if he could get more normal split-parent time, since Jr. is only over Monday and Wednesday evening and every other weekend. It was a battle that left us with scars-o-plenty. They were worth it though, because we won. Ohio has shared custody rules that are to be abided by when both parents can't agree on how the child's time is spent. These rules specify that the child will spend the first half of summer break with one parent, the second have with the other. The Monday/Wednesday/Every Other Weekend rules apply to the parent who does not have the child full time. So, for the first time ever, Jr. is spending the first half of the summer with us.

So, with all that being said, I made the decision to postpone summer teaching until Jr. was in college. My new full time, half of the summer job is as a stay at home mom. Yes you heard that right. I, Big Momma am a SAHM! Who would have believed that I would have ever had this title? Certainly not me. Or my mom for that matter. Mom, are you still with me or have you fallen out of your chair? My new job is the reason for my super duper sunny disposition. Things are going quite well and I have found that I am pretty good at it. I have certainly had practice at being a mom, but have never done it full time. I never would have guessed how satisfying this line of work is. We have been packing activities into our days and around Jr.'s social life. So far we have shoe shopped, vacation clothes shopped (the boy wants to look GOOD! Got the ladies to impress, ya know!), attempted to pick strawberries (more on this later), played tennis, applied for his passport, taken the dog for long walks in the ravine, visited the Park of Roses (gorgeous), watched movies, visited Mr. Big Momma's office for lunch, talked and just enjoyed each other's company. Jr. is obviously not the typical teenager. I am so surprised that he is so willing to spend time with us! No eye rolling, no groans, just laughter, Napoleon Dynamite quotes and good times. I figure that he just doesn't get this type of attention or normalcy at home, so he soaks it up while with us. Plus, I am a better cook and love to feed hungry mouths. And let me tell you, he is ALWAYS hungry. We have made one trip so far to Costco this week and will probably have to make another in a few days. That boy can eat!

Enjoy the summer and this wonderfully cool evening that we are having!!!

Craptacular

2008-04-24T21:07:00.002-04:00

Just thought I'd share. While doing my "business" on my office toilet, I actually caught my head bobbing as I began to fall asleep. Time to pack it in for the night.

Slackerbigmomma

2008-04-17T19:50:00.004-04:00

Tomorrow is Friday, yeah! My plan you ask? To sit outside and drink as many beers as possible before I fall into the ravine and roll to the bottom.

So here it is, a few minutes till 8 on Thursday night. Is there something wrong with me because I feel like a slacker for ending my work day so early? I do not recall, in the past few months, ending my work day while it was still light. Please let me know if you think I should seek psychiatric help...unfortunately I will have to wait until June as I'm just too busy right now....

Wanted: Dead or Alive

2008-04-08T20:36:00.005-04:00

Contrary to the rumors, I am not dead. Just busy. Busy busy. It is THAT time of year in College Publishing. THAT time is when you work more than anything else. THAT time is when I am a stranger to those who know me. THAT time when Mr. Big Momma often finds me taking a crap (I conveniently have a toilet in my office) with my laptop on my lap. Gross, but time is money people! Eight more weeks and I'll be playing tennis everyday, drinking a beer each night and happily posting on the blog that I miss so much!

P.S. This guy is my hero, whoever he is! Sometimes you just have to multitask.

Public service announcement and a brief apology

2008-03-02T18:17:00.004-05:00

I am begging you...listen very carefully. I am not responsible for what happens to you if you do not take this advice very carefully. DO NOT GO AND SEE VANTAGE POINT. I REPEAT, DO NOT GO AND SEE VANTAGE POINT. Yes, it stars Forest Whitaker. Don't be fooled by this. This is a terrible movie that wasn't even capable of amusing a teenager. We did have fun on the way home laughing about 1. Dennis Quaid's inablility to act, 2. The number of times they say POTUS and 3. How cars during the chase sequences appeared to be damanged, undamaged and then damaged again. So, that is $21 and 2 hours of my life that I won't get back. Don't make the same poor choice. I voted for Be Kind Rewind, but I never win.....

On to the hard part. I need to make an apology, here it goes.

Dear Girl Scouts of America,

Fellow sisters, you know I love you. But why am I always the last to have your tasty cookies delivered to my house? I hope you can understand, Girl Scouts who stood in front of The Hills Market today, that I felt betrayed when I say you peddling your treats to strangers. Strangers. Non-former Girl Scouts I'm sure. Don't you remember how I chased you down several months ago? You came to my house and Mr. Big Momma ordered. But the foolish man forgot to order the Thin Mints. Once I realized you were a Girl Scout and not selling magazines or crack, you were long gone. I ran like the wind in order to catch you, so determined to get my Thin Mints. So, to Troop 934, I must apologize. You didn't deserve the nasty and unrepeatable words that left my lips when I say you today outside The Hills Market. I was only upset because I felt abandonded, shunned. I can only now offer you my sincerest apology because just a few short minutes ago you knocked upon my door and delivered to me the best box of cookies you can only get once a year. Thank you Girl Scout and Father of Girl Scout (who actually drove her to deliver her cookies). As I am nearly finished with the first sleeve (yes, I am a total pig), I thank you.

Happy Selling,

Clintonville Big Momma

Who links to me?

Turdsday

2008-02-28T17:20:00.004-05:00

Do you ever just feel like a turd? I'm not talking about feeling like crap, sick, illin. I'm talking about feeling like a turd, poop, a deuce. I suppose if you have felt this way, then you know what I am talking about. Why am I feeling this way? Good question. I have been asking myself this for the last couple of hours. The answer? Not quite sure. Just don't feel like myself. Case in point: tonight is parent teacher conferences. I normally LIVE for PTC. One of the highlights of my nerdy existence. But today, I really could care less. I would really rather sit home and toss a few brews back. Fortunately the nerd instinct is still there and I will go just like the good girl that I am. Ever feel tired of being who you are? And I don't mean that in the hurl myself off of a bridge sense. Sometimes I am just exhausted being me. These are the times when a career change crosses my mind. When I feel this way, I always think about becoming a greeter at WalMart. I hate WalMart and refuse to shop there, but doesn't it sound nice to have a job where your sole responsibility is saying hello to people? I'm pretty sure I would do a bang up job. I have been saying hello my entire life and therfore feel that I could be called an expert at it. Executive Senior Greeter? Lead Greeter? President of First Impressions? Hmmm.... The other perk of being a greeter is that there is absolutely no work to take home with you. Unless you count sore feet from standing all day. Or, as my grandma would say, "my dogs are barking" after a long day on her feet. I realize that I would never actually become a WalMart greeter, but the thought of doing something simple does cross my mind from time to time.

So in reality, maybe I feel like a turd because I am tired and ready for the weekend. Unfortunately it will be a "working weekend" for me since I've got a big report due on Monday. Maybe I feel like a turd because the toenail on my right big toe poked a hole in my sock today? I hate walking around with a toe hole. Maybe I feel like a turd because I was hit on by a professor yesterday who had so much hair in his nostrils that I wondered how he was able to breathe. Unfortunately for him, he had more hair in his nose than on his head. Hopefully I will wake up tomorrow feeling fresh and non-turd like. I'll keep ya posted.

So, in honor of my feeling like a turd, here is the movie quote for the week:

Person #1: You know those days when you get the mean reds?

Person #2: The mean reds, you mean like the blues?

Person #1: No. The blues are because you're getting fat and maybe it's been raining too long, you're just sad that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what you're afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?

You know you are a tool if...

2008-02-15T15:32:00.009-05:00

...you have one of those motivational posters, framed, on your office wall. Given that my main goal in life is to help others, here are some alternatives for you to consider.

I must admit that I have been on the lookout for a "Hang in There Baby" poster for many years....

Visit http://www.despair.com/ for more!

Who let the dog in?

2008-01-27T17:31:00.000-05:00

Several weeks ago Mr. Big Momma and I made one of the biggest decisions of our married lives: to switch our bulk warehouse membership from Sam's Club to Costco. We have been Sam's member for 10 years, so it was a tough choice. Really. I am a creature of habit. And loyal to a fault. But it was time for a change, so Costo it is!

I love buying things in bulk. It makes me feel efficient and wise. And I love not worrying about running out of garbage bags, dishwashing liquid or laundry soap. If there is a nuclear disaster or some other freakish accident on earth, you will be glad that you know me. My bulk purchases could sustain half of Clintonville for a good few weeks. TP included.

I also buy the dog's pig ears in bulk. Costco had the ears, but they also had dog chicken jerky. I do believe that dogs love pig more than chicken, but maybe after eating the same snack for the last 10 years, it was time for a change for Sasha as well. And boy was I right. I have never seen her inhale food like the jerky. And this from the dog that has been known to carry around a pig ear for days before eating it.

The problem is that now my husband is eating them. Yes, he is a long time fan of jerky. But seriously, dog jerky? Yesterday afternoon I made chocolate chip cookies. They were perfect: chewy, sweet with a hint of salt, just the right about of chips and warm from just coming out of the oven. Mr. Big Momma walked right past MY cookies and helped himself to some dog jerky. He claims that they are really good, as good as human jerky. I am not willing to find out if he is correct. What's a girl to do? Woof, woof.

My So Called Big Fat Head

2008-01-27T16:47:00.001-05:00

I finally broke down on Friday and went to the Chiropractor. My upper back/neck has been killing me for the last few weeks. It got to the point where I wasn't sleeping because of it, so I broke down and made an appointment. It has been many years since I've visited a D.C., so I made an appointment with one located in the Ville.

My diagnosis was made very quickly: my head is too big. Well, really it is a neck problem. My neck bones aren't curving as they once were (another sign of old age?) so the weight of my big head is straining my neck and upper back. After many cracks, tugs and whacks, I was out the door and feeling better already.

In honor of my big head, here is the movie trivia for this past Friday. Sorry it is delayed, but I am back up to 80 hours work weeks.

" Look at the size of that boy's heed. I'm not kidding, it's like an orange on a toothpick. Well, that's a huge noggin. That's a virtual planetoid. Has it's own weather system. I'm not kidding, that boy's head is like Sputnik; spherical but quite pointy at parts! Now that was offsides, wasn't it? He'll be crying himself to sleep tonight, on his huge pillow. "

Remember, no cheating. If this is too easy, just throw up another quote from the movie. There are many good ones!

P.S. My favorite fellow big head. Is it football season yet?

The Waiting Is The Hardest Part

2008-01-15T17:10:00.000-05:00

I made this suggestion to my sister earlier today as a good title for her blog post for the day. Unfortunately she is too young to remember this most excellent Tom Petty song. I heart TP. He is great to see live, so if you ever get a change, GO!

Truly the hardest part of the day was the waiting. Well, maybe staying awake was, at least for certain members of my family....Get some food into the bellies of the over 5o crowd and watch out. Oh, the head bobbing and jerking themselves into an awake state. So fun to watch. I should have brought my camera with me. Would have made for some interesting posts! I do think that my threats of bowls of warm water, bra freezing and Sharpie markers kept some of them awake...ah, fear is a powerful thing!

On to the news: Transplant was a success. Both donor and recipient are doing well. Drugged beyond belief and doing well. The kidney began working right away, which is outstanding news. The kidney from the last transplant didn't work for a few days and it was miserable waiting. We all practically skipped out of the hospital! The next few days will be tough as pain increases and pain meds decrease. But, this will be good because it will get both of them out of the hospital asap. No pain, no gain, right? Right!

So tonight, raise your glasses and toast the beginning of a new life!! A life of health, hope and inspiration. I plan on spreading the wealth myself!

Everythings going to be alright...finally...

2008-01-14T20:52:00.000-05:00

I just want you close
Where you can stay forever
You can be sure that it will only get better
You and me together
Through the days and nights
I don’t worry cause everything’s gonna be alright
People keep talking
They can say what they like
But all I know is everything’s gonna be alright

I heard this Alicia Keys song on my way home tonight. I was at the hospital, along with just about everyone else in my family. After a year of more time spent in the hospital than not, we were all finally there for a good reason. Tomorrow my BIL is getting his kidney!

I found this song to be especially comforting. Finally, everything is going to be alright. I imagine that my sister and her husband would find comfort in these words as well. Tomorrow is such a pivotal day in their lives, I can't even begin to imagine what is going on in their heads. And in the heads of the donor and his wife as well.

This will be my BIL's second transplant. The first was almost 10 years ago and it was from a cadaver. It lived its lifespan of 10 years. When it failed, my BIL was told that his best option for health was to find a live donor. And they did. A true miracle. His donor is actually his best friend, someone that my sister and BIL have known since college. It is really unbelievable that someone would be selfless enough to give such a gift. But that is who this person is. It is even more unbelievable that the donor and his wife had there first child just a few months ago. We will never be able to repay them for their generosity.

So tonight we all rallied around the patients as the transplant surgery will begin tomorrow at 7am. It amazed me how cheerful everyone was, especially the patients. I guess Fleet Enemas are funny, regardless of the situation....

Neal, Michele, Ryan, Leslie...here's to you! Your devotion to one another and your strength is truly an inspiration to us all. I hope that those who hear of your story will learn from your generosity and strive to make the world a better place.

De, de, deee

2008-01-12T16:27:00.000-05:00

Proof #2,135 that I am easily amused:

http://www.wyrdwords.vispa.com/halloween/autotype/type.html

Friday trivia

2008-01-10T18:09:00.000-05:00

This last week has been a blur so I am very glad that the weekend is almost here. Mr. Big Momma suggested that we go out and find a funk bank to watch this weekend. Sounds fun! We used to go out and enjoy live music when we were dating, but we haven't done so in years.

Here is your Friday trivia challenge. I made it a little easier than last week, good luck!

" I will not rest until I have you holding a Coke, wearing your own shoe, playing a Sega game *featuring you*, while singing your own song in a new commercial, *starring you*, broadcast during the Superbowl, in a game that you are winning, and I will not *sleep* until that happens."

Yeah, I'm not dead

2008-01-10T15:14:00.001-05:00

Yesterday I had a lay over in Minneapolis. I crossed my fingers that I would see its most famous rock star...you know, the purple one, The Artist Formerly Known As, Prince! No Prince, but I did see someone famous. Who, you are wondering?

Don't I wish. Not that famous. I guess not really famous at all if you don't live in Central Ohio.

Yes, our most trusted weatherman was on my plane. Sat right behind me with his wife. I took that as a sign....my plane COULDN'T crash with Jym on board, right?

California love...in the city, city of Compton

2008-01-08T21:26:00.000-05:00

I just wanted to put up a quick message to all my homies and thank them for their Cali recomendations. You are a bunch of righteous dudes! Unfortunately they are working us to death and I've had minimum time to explore. Here is what I have been up to.

Wake
Eat breakfast
Listen
Pee
Listen
Pee
Listen
Pee
Eat lunch
Pee
Listen
Pee
Listen
Pee
Listen
Pee
Eat dinner
Pee
Socialize at whatever function is going on. They are all required.
Drink a few beers (my new fav is Big Daddy's IPA, brewed right here in San Fran. I'll be so disappointed if I can't get it back home!)
Pee
Pee, I broke the seal
Sleep

Repeat six times and rinse.

I am on my way back home tomorrow. Yeah! Send me good vibes so that my plane doesn't go down in a death spiral.

Friday Trivia

2008-01-03T23:35:00.000-05:00

1/5/08 hint: "I imagine that right now, you're feeling a bit like Alice. Hmm? Tumbling down the rabbit hole?"

I’ve got about 2 hours worth of battery left on my laptop. Challenge to me: how much can I write in that short amount of time?

Unfortunately the 2 hours of battery time left on my laptop will leave me one and a half short of my arrival. iPod is low as well. I am on my way to San Fran for a work trip. A really long work trip. A work trip with only Sunday off. A work trip that requires me to travel by plane. I really need to consider getting a tour bus…

So, because I will be a busy bee for the next week, I have decided to get as many posts done on the plane and post them day by day. So, first post will take care of business. Friday Trivia.

“It is all around us. Even now, in this very room. You can see it when you look out your window or when you turn on your television. You can feel it when you go to work... when you go to church... when you pay your taxes. It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth.”

Remember, no cheating!

Friday Trivia

2007-12-27T17:58:00.000-05:00

It is hard to believe that tomorrow is Friday. I could get used to these short weeks. Thankfully we have one more to enjoy before 2008....when the next holiday off is Memorial Day. Yuck!

I am really excited to start a new year and am excited to be celebrating its kick off with a NY Eve party at my house. So, being that I am in the party mood, my mind when to party movies. Here is the quote for the week:

"Fat, drunk, and stupid is no way to go through life, son."

I beg to differ, with the exception of the fat part...sometimes drunk and stupid sounds more fun than sober and smart. I am just saying that because I have a mini keg of 2 Hearted in my fridge....I'm off.

Jingle F'in Bells

2007-12-19T22:13:00.000-05:00

I am officially in a funk. This funk being worst than most because it is decorated with tinsel and twinkle lights and has been drenched in egg nog. Let me just get to the point. I hate Christmas. I have for many years. I’m not really sure when in started, but I have disliked this holiday for most of my adult life. As I was complaining to Mr. Big Momma tonight about my hatred for this holiday and how Thanksgiving really is the best holiday, he reminded me that I did actually enjoy the last few Christmases. Was he still smokin’ crack last year? No, he was right. I had found enjoyment in cutting down the tree, decorating it, shopping and wrapping gifts. But for some reason I can’t seem to get that “ho, ho, ho” feeling back this year. Is it January yet?

Tonight we started decorating our tree. For as many years as I can remember we listen to Harry Connick Jr.’s Christmas CD “When My Heart Finds Christmas” while decorating. It tends to keep the crabby out of the Mister while putting the lights on the tree. Is there some gene on the Y chromosome that causes men to get irritable when lights on a string come into play? I have to say that I do get some enjoyment out of watching Mr. Big Momma get frustrated. He is normally calm, cool and collected. At least there is something that frazzles him! I digress. So, as I was singing along with HC2 I began sweeping up the needles from the tree, cursing gravity and I thought, things could be worse. This thought process was accelerated after a conversation with my sister. She pointed out the many ways that things could be worse (there are other things going on, personally, that are bringing me down, outside of this stupid Christmas thang). I could be the mother of Jamie Lynn Spears, my bladder could fall out of my vagina (I won’t even tell you why this came up), I could have an adjustable rate mortgage. OK, I got it. Enough said. Thanks sis for the pick me up. So, rather than spend the next 6 days crabbing out Christmas, I have decided to come up with a list of things I do like about the holiday. Here goes.

10. The smell of a freshly cut tree in my living room.

9. They way the star at the top of our tree transforms our living room into 2001 Space Odyssey. Tony Manero not included. My mom gave me this tree topper years ago. It is the one that topped our trees as children. We call it the disco ball, for obvious reasons. Pictures to come. It is truly a gem. Last year my mom bought us the modern day version which has electric, flashing lights. I am afraid to put it up for fear that we will have seizures. One tongue being almost bitten off from a seizer, per year, and we have already had ours…

8. Putting the Christmas socks on the dog. We do this every year with a pair of socks (with jingle bells on them) that my mom bought for me years ago. Notice a trend here? See #7 for more on that. Every year we put the socks on the dog’s legs and watch her wobble around until they fall off. We probably need to get out more.

7. My mom. If she was given one wish, she would not waste it on world peace or a $10 bazillion dollars. She would use her wish to become Santa. Not Mrs. Claus, but the big guy. My mom is obsessed with Christmas and has a basement full of Christmas crap to prove it. She even just purchased her own Santa costume...pictures to come on that as well.

6.Spritz cookies. Need I say more? Unfortunately I haven’t gotten around to making mine yet. Damn job.

5. Food, food and more food. No dieting allowed this time of year. What would baby Jesus think?

4. Being around children that still believe in Santa.

3. A Christmas Story. Some of the best movie lines of all time. “I want an Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle!” “Only I didn't say "Fudge." I said THE word, the big one, the queen-mother of dirty words, the "F-dash-dash-dash" word!” “It's a Major Award!” “Deck the halls with boughs of horry, ra ra ra ra ra, ra ra ra ra.” I watch this movie at least 10 times every Christmas.

2. A few days off from work.

And drum roll, please. The best thing about Christmas is Harry Connick Jr. I have been a huge fan of his for many years. His music is rich and calming. I’ve seen him in concert many times over the years and he actually sings. No lip synching! Can you imagine? I love his Christmas CD not just for the music, but for the tradition that listening to it has become in our household. Even better, there is a sketch on Mad TV that you can see this time of year. HC2 was the guest host. He IS funny, but the best part of the show is when he sings a Christmas song, while playing the piano and wearing a wife beater. Welcome to the gun show, baby! I just realized tonight that he has another Xmas CD, “Harry for the Holidays.” Reminds me that I need to shave my legs. Wouldn’t want to be harry for the holidays. I’m sure Mr. Big Momma would agree!

Stranded at the drive in....

2007-12-13T13:39:00.000-05:00

.....branded a fool. What will they say Monday at school?

Actually, I might not even be around on Monday to find out. I am officially stranded in Boston. Here is what I can see outside my hotel window:

OK, Frosty isn't here yet. But only because Delta has cancelled all flights for today. Wicked awesome! Am I getting pay back for my hatred of the Red Sox? Damn you Manny!

Friday trivia is back!

2007-12-07T10:30:00.000-05:00

It has been a crazy, long week. One of those weeks that seemed to drag on and on. Mr. Big Momma was in a small car accident last week. He spent most of the week fighting off the chiropractors and repair shops that were calling him. On Wednesday alone, he had 12 people call him. Isn't that disgusting? Do people really agree to appointments with these doctors?

Now lets get down to the business of the day. It has been some time since there was a Friday trivia post. What can I say? I'm a total lazy, uninspired cow! But today, I am back on track, ready to turn over a new leaf. Again, if this is too easy, just reply back with another line from the movie.

"I want to buy eight hot dogs and eight hot dog buns to go with them. But no one sells eight hot dog buns. They only sell twelve hot dog buns. So I end up paying for four buns I don't need. So I am removing the superfluous buns. Yeah. And you want to know why? Because some big-shot over at the wiener company got together with some big-shot over at the bun company and decided to rip off the American public. Because they think the American public is a bunch of trusting nit-wits who will pay for everything they don't need rather than make a stink. Well they're not ripping of this nitwit anymore because I'm not paying for one more thing I don't need."

Let it snow!

2007-12-05T13:27:00.000-05:00

I never much liked winter. Or Christmas for that matter. My cockles did start to warm to the idea of both once we moved into the house we live in now. Can you blame me?

The view definately makes me appreciate the snow more. I don't even mind shoveling it. There is something about the snow that even energizes Sasha. While we were shoveling she ran herself ragged in the yard. When she got tired, she would sniff the snow and sometimes take a bite or two.

The snow and the cold inspired me to make up a pot of soup for supper tonight. Tater and ham. Yummy! Nothing beats sitting in a warm house, laptop and blanket on my lap, working while admiring the view with the smell of tonight's dinner filling the air.

I hear we should enjoy the snow while it lasts. In typical Columbus fashion it will be 50 degrees next week!

Jingle Balls

2007-12-04T10:57:00.000-05:00

Well, it is that time of year. Sun hasn't shined for days, everything looks gray and dingy and it is officially cold. At least there is snow coming! If it is going to be cold, there should be snow.

This time of year also bring Christmas shopping. Here is my question to all of you: Is it customary to buy your boss a Christmas gift?

For the last 6 years I had the same boss. For the first 2 years I bought him a Christmas present. I stopped because it was never reciprocated. Ok, I know that the holiday is for giving, but not getting a gift back made be feel like a douche. Plus, the second year I bought him golf balls as he was a fanatic golfer. After he received my gift, he left me a voice message to say thanks. I voice mailed him back and actually said "I am so happy to hear that you like your balls!" Eeew. So now that I have a new boss, I'm back to square one. And, I'd like to keep human resources out of it this time around.

So, do you all purchase gifts for your boss? If so, what types of gifts are you giving? Randy, no ball jokes please, unless of course they are just that funny.

Just eat it

2007-11-27T21:35:00.000-05:00

I am mortified that my last post was on November 13. Pathetic. Life has been busy. I was really excited to write and post over the long weekend, but my laptop was down. For some reason I couldn't seem to get my fat butt off the couch and into the den where the working computer was. There is something about my couch that gets the creative juices flowing.

Two weeks ago Mr. Big Momma and I headed down to Orlando (Mistake #1) for a friend's wedding. We decided to make it a long weekend (Mistake #2). It was nice to get away, but I found myself wishing, while in gridlock traffic, that I was anywhere BUT Orlando. We were there for a total of 96 hours and we spent at least 48 of them in traffic. Seriously. Luckily our car time was spent in a Prius. Even in gridlock, we averaged 50 mpg. Not bad. The car has a control panel. Technology rules!

The normal display on the panel showed mpg, power generated, etc. Because I am absolutely the worst picture taker, I don't have one to show you. I really do but it is quite embarrassing. I took 100 pictures in 4 days and a good solid 20 of them are in focus. The coolest display was the above image which showed the rear view while you were backing up. I was excited because I saw this as probably my only opportunity to get on TV. Prius TV still counts, right? I must say that Mr. Big Momma has mad driving skills. We didn't crash once, even though he spent more time watching the panel than the road. Oh wait, there actually was a crash.....After dinner on Saturday night, I was watching the screen while he was backing up and screaming "They are going to hit us" as a clueless van pulled out and hit us. Poor little Prius.

Mr. Big Momma spends a lot of time in Orlando as his firm has an office down there, so he was quite the tour guide. On our first night he took me to High Tide Harry's. Really bad idea to include Harry in the name of your restaurant. Gag. But, how can you go wrong with this

For those of you who are complaining about not being able to read the sign due to my poor photography skills, it says "40 TOP Quality Shrimp, Steamed or Sauteed. $9.99." Mr. Big Momma couldn't pass this up. Luckily he was there on the right day, the ONLY night to visit HTS's, Thursday Pounder night. Here is what he got...

That is a full pound of shrimp, my friends. It also came with a pound of butter, no additional charge.

If you ever find yourself in Orlando, you should definitely pay Harry a visit. They are the self proclaimed provider of "Reel Seafood." How could you go wrong? Plus, it was late and at that point we were reel hungry. Outside of the cheap shrimp, here are a few additional reasons why you should go:

1. Tartar sauce (clearly not cream of tartar you idiots) in a squeeze bottle. Need I say more?

2. PBR on tap. PBR me ASAP. Now I know why they sold souvenir beer cozies. Isn't it a crime in some states to drink warm PBR?

3. I actually heard a man start a conversation with: "I was watching Overhaulin'...."

4. The music. Literally went from Barry White to AC/DC and back again. We even heard Freebird.

5. Cheapest meal in town. $25 tab which included a hefty tip.

6. The food was awesome!

7. The best bathroom sign EVER: In case of nuclear attack, run in the restroom. No one ever hits anything in there. Aaah, just like home.

Pour one out for my dead homie

2007-11-13T16:02:00.000-05:00

As if the Buckeye's loss to Illinois wasn't enough.....

I found out this morning that OSU's most famous squirrel, Whitey had been killed on Friday by an Owl on the South Oval. See the story here. Thankfully (?) a student captured the crime with their cell phone camera. Whitey was famous because he was one of very few albino squirrels. I was never lucky enough to see him on campus.

So Whitey, we miss you already.

Here is a picture of Whitey in happier times.

Friday Trivia

2007-11-08T19:31:00.000-05:00

I'm pretty sure that most of you out there would rather read about Friday Trivia rather than my depressing babble. At this point, I totally agree wit ya.

I will give one hint on this one. This line was not spoken in English. It was translated via subtitles. Have at it.

"I love the sea, so beautiful, so mysterious... so full of fish."

Sunday update: Not a single guess? Here is another hint:

You Drive me Crazy

2007-11-07T23:19:00.000-05:00

When the shit hits the fan, what is a girl to do? Reach for a brewskie, which is exactly what I've done tonight.

I remember telling my sister a few weeks ago that you need to embrace and remember the days that go by without trouble. They seem to be few and far between these days. I suppose that is just life. My BIL has been home for a few weeks and is doing very well. His HOLE (and I mean trach hole, Mom) has left him sounding like Barry White. Dark, deep and silky. Once it heals, he will get his normal voice back, but I have to say that the Barry voice does intrigue me.

With BIL home, I figured that life would be without drama for a while...after all, I think we deserve it. Foolish me for thinking that the karma police would keep the crap away.

As you already know, Mr. Big Momma was originally someone else's Mr. Big Momma. They divorced many years ago (before I got involved with him, of course) but not before having a child. Jr. is a great kid and I am so lucky to have him in my life. But this life is not without drama. I suppose that it is impossible to avoid drama when you have a baby momma in your life.

Mr. Big Momma called me yesterday and told me that the baby momma wants to home school Jr. Now let me tell you that BM is an idiot, borderline retarded, at least as far as I'm concerned. I know what you are thinking....new wife, bitter of her hubby's ex. So not true. Maybe I'll explain more about this in a future post. But I will tell you the same story that I tell everyone who finds out that my hubby had a child with another woman and asks me how the relationship works. This is the story that sums it up best. Unfortunately there are many other sad stories to tell about her, her relationship (or lack there of) with Mr. Big Momma and her relationship (or lack there of) with Jr. Brace yourself, this is a doosy (sp? remember, I have already had 2 beers, enough to make me an idiot). When Jr. was younger and the baby momma wanted to communicate something to Mr. Big Momma, SHE WOULD TAPE A NOTE ON JR'S BACK. This is a true story, I have witnesses. As hard as this is to believe, it is TRUE. She is a witch who uses every opportunity to get back at Mr. Big Momma via Jr.

I hope everyone out there can understand how frustrated I was to learn that Jr.'s education would now be in the hands of an idiot. It frustrates me enough that his current science teacher can't teach her way out of a paper bag. You science geeks out there would be shocked to see her notes on cellular respiration. Ugh! I spend about an hour on Monday trying to explain this topic to Jr. who was totally confused. I got why. Her notes confused me!

Tonight I had Jr. all to myself due to Mr. Big Momma's work situation. These situations do not come up often. He is a devoted father who would cut off his dick, if he had to, in order to see his son. We talked about the home schooling situation after dinner and boy did I get an earful. Here is a quick summary of what I learned:

1. Baby momma tells Jr. that she wants nothing to do with Mr. Big Momma. She does not want to commincate with him at all.
2. Jr. feels that he can't tell Mr. Big Momma the reality of his life at the other house. He doesn't want to upset his father with the details of his life there.
3. Jr. feels that no one at baby momma's house cares about him, especially baby momma and Mr. Baby Momma.
4. Jr. is pissed that baby momma doesn't want to go to school events because Mr. Big Momma will be present.
5. He is also pissed about the fact that baby momma tells him that she will make 100% of the decisions and refuses to involve Mr. Big Momma.
6. He doesn't understand why baby momma hates me so much and why she won't let him call me Mom. The reality is he has called me Mom for years. Probably about 7 years. Jr. actually made me a card on my birthday way back when which said that his present to me was to call me Mom. He actually asked me if this was ok. Of course I cried like a little bitch. Prior to being called Mom, he called me "His/My Big Momma" which I loved. I wouldn't care if he called me Darth Vader. We have been lucky and have always shared a special relationship. If he never called me Mom, I would have been OK with that. Titles have never been important to me.
7. Jr. is going to a therapist with baby momma and Mr. Baby Momma. He told me that the only way therapy would work was to have the 5 of us attend. Agreed.

I could continue on writing this list until tomorrow morning. This kid totally spilled his guts to me. I know how hard it is to have divorced parents and knew that he was struggling with it, but I had no idea of the extent of the damage. His own mother is creating major drama in his life. So much drama that he doesn't know which way is up.

I will do WHATEVER it takes to make things better for him. I am committed to doing that. I have been committed to this kid from day one. I would have never married his father if I wasn't. My heart is breaking as I think of what a long road this is going to be. Any advice or insight would be helpful.

My sister told me yesterday that she is willing to wage her own war against baby momma. She said that she was willing to egg her house, egg her car, TP her yard, prank call her, run her over, you get the idea. Could you ask for a better sister? The support is greatly needed, so thanks Poop! Yes, my sister's nickname is Poop....I'll save the explanation for another day. My 'family' nickname was Bertha Butt. This was way before anyone new about J. Lo, so I think I am the original.

On a more positive note, one of my very best friends has started her own blog. She actually posted that my blog was her inspiration. Shocking isn't it? She must be just as insane as I am. Probably explains why we are such good friends. I will say though, that having a blog is one of the most therapeutic things. So thank you to all of you out there. I really appreciate your support.

Jr. could after all, be worse off. His last name could be Spears. It is my nature to always find the silver lining.

p.s. I apologize for my drunken writing. Need to get some sleep.

Friday, I'm in love!

2007-11-02T16:27:00.000-04:00

Actual voice mail from Mr. Big Momma, 1:42PM today:

"Hi honey. Just wanted to give you a call and make sure that you haven't been chopped up into little pieces. Love ya."

ADT came by this morning to change out some parts in our alarm system. I was working at home, so it was just me and the technician.

I'm wondering......

.....if I hadn't called him right back, how long would he have waited to come home or call the police?

After 9 years of marriage, it really is these little tokens that keep me going! I do think though, that this chainsaw obsession has gone a bit too far!

p.s. that is NOT a picture of Mr. Big Momma.

Friday Trivia

2007-11-01T19:44:00.000-04:00

Well, I had the perfect post worked out on my way home from a work happy hour, but it is now lost. When will I learn to carry a pad of paper with me? Probably never.

I decided before happy hour that when I got home, I would not pick up work. Yeah! Tomorrow is Friday and I've got an office day scheduled. Work can wait until then. Mr. Big Momma is out with his boss, so I've got the pad to myself. Perfect opportunity to catch up with some friends and with writing. I had a nice chat with my sister and then with another friend, who I won't name here. She has been going through some shitty shit and found a backstabbing friend topping her shit heap. I'm going to leave out the details so that I can get to my point and to Friday Trivia. Why do so called friends persecute one another? Even outside of being friends, why does one person feel the need to make another miserable? I often wonder this about Mr. Big Momma's ex-wife. They split up years ago, long before I entered the picture. After all of the years that have passed, she still takes every opportunity to try and make his life miserable. You think I would be used to it, but I'm not. But, an ex is an ex for a reason and the dynamic between the two is often hostile. If it wasn't then they probably wouldn't be exes. But why does the dynamic between two supposed friends have to be hostile? No one is holding a gun to your head, forcing you to be friends. I think all of us can look back on their lives and count dozens of people that they are no longer friends with. It just happens. It is even more interesting to think that when two lovers don't feel the love anymore, they break up. Granted, they probably tortured one another for some time, prior to the break up. But, eventually, they broke up and moved on. Why does friendship have to be any different? When two friends go in different directions or have different ideas about how to treat one another, they should just break up and move on instead of sticking around and making each other miserable. Whew, I feel so much better now, thank you very much. I'm guessing this friendship dilemma is exclusive to us XXs and not to the XYs. It would be so much easier to be a guy: less drama, no leg shaving, no PMS and they get better looking with age. Damn!

So on to Friday trivia. I've posted this in spirit of the upcoming weekend. Mr. Big Momma and I are going to a furniture sale in Cinci on Saturday and then having dinner with the family. I am so excited for both. Not much makes me feel as good as furniture shopping, even if we don't buy anything. Mr. Big Momma, I'll make you a deal. Buy me one of these

and you can buy one of these

But then you might turn into this

Oh, behave! It is bad enough you chase me around with the leaf blower. Chasing me with a chainsaw???? Forget about it.

Totally not worth the chair.

Wow, a night free of work and look what you get! So, Friday trivia, in honor of a fun weekend.....

"We're all gonna have so much fucking fun we'll need plastic surgery to remove our Goddamn smiles! You'll be whistling Zip-a-dee-doo-da out of your assholes! I've got to be crazy!"

Can you guess the movie?

I hope the Colorado Rockies beat the Bostini Red Socks Cream Pie, Daring Bakers Challenge II

2007-10-29T17:18:00.000-04:00

OK, so my title dosen’t really work anymore, but I thought I would leave it. I wrote up my second Daring Baker challenge this weekend, when the Colorado Rockies still had a chance. I have decided to leave this title because I am still bitter that the Red Sox knocked out the Tribe! I grew up in a suburb of Cleveland and have been a long time Tribe fan.

This is my second month as a Daring Baker and our challenge was to make a Bostini Cream pie. Here is a recap of the experience…..

Mistake #1: I sat down to review this month’s challenge and make my grocery list. I wrote down “cream of tartar” and didn’t think much about it. Until I got to the grocery store. It was at that moment that I realized I had no fargin clue was COT was. I thought about using a life line and calling someone, but figured that wandering the grocery store, trying to figure it out myself would be a better idea. So, after navigating the isles and the annoying mid-day shoppers, I decided that COT was probably tartar sauce. It was creamy and I felt that tartar was close enough to tar-tar, right?? WRONG. Before adding the impostor COT to my egg whites, I figured I would at least do a quick internet check. I realized that the two were not even close to being the same thing. Why didn’t they just tell me that COT is potassium hydrogen tartrate? That I get. Science truly is the international language. To my more sophisticated Daring Bakers, please don’t hold this confession against me. This is my first experience baking with COT! I swear, I have learned my lesson.

Mistake #2: The Daring Baker group has two blogs: one that is visible by everyone and one that is only visible to its members. The member only site has questions, tips and posts of the finished challenge. Very useful information that is helpful to look at BEFORE you begin the challenge. When I made the custard part of this recipe, I put it into star shaped molds. After several hours in the fridge, the custard didn’t firm up. After looking at the blog I realized that many others had this problem. I couldn’t redo because I was out of whole milk (Jr. finished the rest with dinner as a special treat….did you realize that a serving of whole milk has 16 grams of fat and 22 grams of sugar? Yuck!). So I just modified how I put it all together. I’ve got the rest of the cups in the fridge and am hoping for an overnight miracle.

This was a fun recipe to make and didn’t take as long as I thought it would. It did take me a little longer because I had to go back out to the store for some cream of tartar…… OK, I’ll stop complaining about my stupidity.

I am one of those weird people that only likes to taste orange flavor in an actual orange or in orange juice. Anything flavored with orange grosses me out. The cake part of this was flavored with orange. Next time I make it I will substitute strawberry. The guys ate this for dessert tonight and they both really liked it. Jr. gave it an 8/10, Mr. Big Momma gave it a 7/10. Although the custard didn’t firm up, it was delicious. The cake portion was spongy and moist.

You can visit http://daringbakersblogroll.blogspot.com/ and see the blog roll of the other Daring Bakers. It is really amazing what some of these talented people can do!!!

P.S. I made the challenge on Saturday. Today is Monday and my custard has STILL not firmed up. Oh well. It was still a blast making this and I couldn’t be more excited about being part of the Daring Bakers!!!

Game day

2007-10-27T20:51:00.000-04:00

The three of us have a one track mind, especially on game day. Here is something that Jr. did. I've always hoped that he would go to Northwestern, but I would be secretly OK if he went to Ohio State. I guess the guys would rather do just about anything over blowing and raking leaves.

Jr. was excited to use the leaf blower, at least until he realize he was actually doing work. I was working on my Daring Baker challenge while they worked outside. I did get outside for a few pictures....

Go Bucks!!!!

10 Things

2007-10-26T19:31:00.000-04:00

A new friend of mine sent out one of those emails that lists questions that have been answered by the person who forwarded it on. The recipient of the message is to read what the sender wrote, delete this person’s answers, write in their own and forward on. I will admit that I am one of those people who enjoy these emails as I love learning obscure facts about the people in my life. So, here are 10 things that you probably didn’t know about me.

1. I have never eaten a PB&J sandwich. I took a bite once. When I first started dating Mr. Big Momma, he didn’t believe me. He made me take the bite, but I can’t say I was impressed. The PB&J he made was on rye bread and I hate rye bread. I will never go back for another bite.

2. My dream job, meaning dream job that is never going to happen is to be a Formula One driver. Many years ago Mr. Big Momma bought tickets for the Indy race and dragged me along. I have been hooked ever since.

3. I am deathly afraid of birds. I think maybe I saw The Birds a few too many times. But I have to say that I really feel like birds are after me, and want to peck my eyes out. Several years ago I came home to find a bird in our house. It had fallen into the chimney. Mr. Big Momma was out of town, so I called my sister and left her a message saying she needed to come over immediately as I had a wildlife emergency. She still makes fun of me for this. Can’t say I blame her. Last summer Mr. Big Momma and I were in Millennium Park, walking through the gardens when a bird swooped down and tried to attack him. I took off running and screaming bloody murder. Luckily I made it out of MP without a straight jacket on.

4. I have eaten the same breakfast every day for the last 6 years: Slimfast meal replacement bars, cookie dough flavor. A few weeks ago they were on sale at Target so I bought all of the boxes that were on the shelf. The teenage cashier asked if they were for me. He looked me up and down and said, and I quote, “Baby, you don’t need no slimfast bars.” I weep for the youth of today.

5. During the winter when I have on long sleeves, I always have a tissue up my sleeve, just like an old lady. In fact, there are a lot of things I do like an old lady. I think I was born an old lady.

6. I am a self proclaimed trivia expert in one category. Self proclaimed because there is no way to test this because no one, other than maybe my sister cares. It is not something I am very proud of. I know everything there is to know about Beverly Hills 90210. I have seen every episode of all 10 seasons countless times. It is still my guilty pleasure.

7. Growing up, I wished that Scott Baio was my big brother. I wanted a big brother more than anything and I was a huge Happy Days fan. After watching his reality show, I realized that he is a total douche bag and I really was better off without him.

8. I was kicked out of Catholic High School because of my haircut. I was a death chick and I had shaved the back side of my head and grew my bangs until they were really long. All pictures of this time period have been destroyed by me.

9. Although I grew up Catholic, and my uncle is a priest, I am not Catholic. In fact I have been without religion for many years.

10. I am not a Big Momma. Really, I am just a normal sized woman. So why the blog name Clintonville Big Momma? My family gave me this nickname a few years ago. Did you ever see the movie Soul Food? The matriarch of the family in this movie was called Big Momma. She loved having her family over for Sunday dinner and would cook enormous quantities of food. I love nothing more than having people over and cooking/baking for them. I am guilty of cooking 10 times more food than needed. I’ve always wondered if there is a gene that causes this as everyone in my family does the same thing.

So here you have it, 10 things that you probably didn’t know about me. To those of you who know me, I’m interested to know if there is something listed that you didn’t know about me. Let me know in the comments section!

Friday trivia, yo.

2007-10-25T22:12:00.000-04:00

Am I the only one who thinks that the world series is going gay? And no, I'm not just bitter because Cleveland is out. Mr. Big Momma and I are watching game 2 right now. A few innings ago as a batter stepped up to the plate, they had a graphic below him stating that he likes The Dave Matthews Band and The Barenaked Ladies. Like I care. Does he also like pina coladas and getting caught in the rain? A few minutes ago they had showed side by side pictures of two players with goatees and asked "Who has the better goatee?" Again, who cares? This is baseball. A sport where there is supposedly no crying. A sport where spitting is ok. Can we man it up a little guys, please!

Anyway, back to Friday trivia. I am going to present Friday trivia in the form of a conversation. This was an actual conversation that took place between me and Mr. Big Momma on Sunday.

Imagine CBM on the couch watching TV. A Chevy Malibu commercial comes on....

CBM: "Can you believe that a Chevy Malibu costs $19,900??? Holy crap."
Mr. CBM: "I would never buy a car that I could get dissed in. "
CBM: "I totally agree with you honey."
CBM and Mr. CBM singing in unison: "Joe lies.... "

Name that movie. Monique, you are not allow to post the answer. You must post another line from the movie. There are many tasty ones to pick from. This should be an easy one for you.

Honey, can I get a chainsaw?

2007-10-20T18:31:00.000-04:00

Ask me again, I'll tell you the same...NO. Hell to the no. Over my dead body. Every fall my husband asks me, countless times, if he can get a chainsaw. Maybe because I have two X chromosomes, I don't understand the obsession.

Today we went to Como mower. Each fall we not only have the chainsaw discussion, but we also have a leaf pick up discussion. You wouldn't believe me if I told you how many bags of leaves are removed from our property every year. Dave, maybe we could have a contest? If you don’t know Dave, you should click here. Our leaf excess is due to these….

And these….

But most of all because of this one….

This is the mother of all trees. It is beautiful, but it drops millions of these

And those are just the trees in the front yard.

In the early morning hours this past Friday, my car alarm went off because it was being pelted by acorns. Because, during the slightest breeze the acorns fall like rain. We are forced to protect our melons when sitting outside in front of the fire by wearing hardhats or our bike helmets. You would think that we couldn't get friends to visit this time of year. Strangely, they seem to want to sit outside with a bike helmet on..... Speaks volumes about our friends...

So, back to Como Mower. Mr. Big Momma didn’t get a chainsaw, but got a leaf blower. Not just any leaf blower. It is a leaf blower that has straps. Like a backpack. It almost blew the dog over. It almost blew me over. I strapped it on and was surprised to find that the expelled air from the side of the unit was enough to make me walk like I would after many beers. Seriously.

Manly, isn't it?

Last year the leaves were my job. It took me about 30 seconds each week. Basically the time it took to write a check. The guy that I hired had two payment options: per bag or per hour. I chose per hour. I think that he realized, quite quickly, that he should have offered me the per bag option only. The last bill we received was per bag and I choked when I got it. I paid it, without questioning it because I felt a little bad about paying him so little for such a big job. This year the leaves are Mr. Big Momma’s job mainly because he doesn’t want to hire anyone. I told him that if the “job” couldn’t be done in 30 seconds or less, that I wasn’t interested.

Happy Blowing honey!! Anyone know a good chiropractor???

Tough decisions

2007-10-15T20:59:00.000-04:00

From a very early age I was challenged by my parents to make my own decisions. I remember my parents empowering me to decide for myself as early as 7 years old. For all I know, they empowered me earlier than that, but I just don't remember. My Dad always told me to make a list, weighing the pros and cons. This advise has always served me well, and I have done this many times in the last 30 years. For a control freak like myself, nothing feels better than starting with a clean sheet of paper and drawing a line down the middle. One side for pros, the other for cons. I would rack my brain for items to write on each side of the page. At the end of the process, it was always easy to make the decision. The answer was right in front of me.

I am not sure at this point that this process will work for every decision. Today my sister was faced with a difficult decision. A decision that is too important to surrender to this process. This was a difficult decision made more difficult by the fact that she had to make it for herself, by herself.

My sister and I have always felt that parenting decisions could be made based on the answer to a single question: What would the Cos do? And when I say Cos, I really mean Dr. Cliff Huxtable. Those crazy Huxtables always had a fun (and rating increasing) way of guiding their children to the correct choice. Do you remember the episode of all episodes? Theo entering the real world, working as a model for Cockroach Enterprises? Renting an apartment from Harvey Weewax? I probably remember too much, but it really is the mother of all episodes. I have it saved on DVR. Sad but true. The beauty of the Huxtable lessons were that they were taught and learned in a single, 30 minute episode. Unfortunately real life isn't that succinct. Or that cut and dry. Or that funny.

Unfortunately there is not a single episode of The Cosby Show that addresses my sister's dilemma. Her decision isn't a parenting decision, but a decision to be made about her husband's health. A decision that unfortunately can only be made by her. I just want her to know that I am behind her 100% and believe that she is making the right choice. So, I am curious to know how you all out there make difficult choices? We could use the insight right now.

Writing for therapy purposes

2007-10-12T20:13:00.000-04:00

Everywhere I turn lately, I see sadness and grief. I was walking up the stairwell in the Chemistry building at Wright State the other day. I could hear a human noise, which I first took for laughter. As I got closer, I realized it was crying. Hysterical crying. As I came up the steps I saw a young girl on her cell phone. She had her back up against the wall and wailed as she slid down the wall until she was sitting. Earlier today I had to take Snoop Doggy Dog to the vet to have her foot bandage changed. As I waited in the lobby an older women came out of one of the exam rooms without her pet in tow. She had a wad of tissues crumpled in her hand which she would use to wipe the tears from her eyes as she paid for the services rendered. I can see the sadness in the eyes of the families that sit waiting, in the ICU lobby. But, the more I looked at these families, I started to see more than sadness. I saw hope. It was always there, I just didn't notice it. It is everywhere, really, if you look for it. Because my B.I.L. is in ICU, we can only see him during visiting hours. During the first hour this morning, he winked at my sister. He treated us to several thumbs ups during our next two visits. He has been finding other creative ways to communicate with us since he has a breathing tube in his mouth and has no other choice. We now know what two fingers mean, right L? Hope, hope, hope and hope. Right in our faces. Things are getting better, but there are getting better so slowly that it is hard to notice the changes. So, we have no choice but to look at the small steps of progress that have been taken this week. At least they have been forward moving steps.

Today was a very long day, followed by a very long week. I knew I would have the house to myself tonight as the guys signed up to be in a golf tourney. I guess they use glow in the dark balls, weird, right? So I did what any self respecting 34 year old woman would do. No, I didn't drink heavily. Thought about it, but didn't. I cranked the stereo and had a one woman dance party while I cleaned the house. It felt so good to jump around, wiggle my hips and poorly sing along to my favorite songs. I gave the concert of my lifetime. I forgot how powerful music can be. Isn't it weird how you can find meaning in so many different songs? How a song's meaning can change, depending on the mood you are in. The extra bonus to all of this is that my house is clean!

Quick thought

2007-10-10T22:22:00.000-04:00

We really need to appreciate the days in our lives that come and go, without major problems. Because when there are problems, they seem to linger and it becomes tough to feel hopeful.

I have been complaining the last week or so about the ups and downs of my life. I had no idea what was coming for us....

My dear, sweet brother in law is waiting for a kidney transplant. It is scheduled for early 2008. His best friend is a match and has decided to gift his kidney to my B.I.L. Can you imagine being that generous? This friend and his wife are having their baby tomorrow. Even more amazing, right?

Friday night I got a call from my sister asking me to meet her at the hospital. She found her husband on the couch, blood all over and unable to speak or reason with her. He has been in ICU ever since. Things are turning around, but we are still unsure as to what happened. My sister is coming to terms with the fact that she might not EVER know what happened. I am giving you a condensed version of this story because it is difficult and upsetting to rehash.

My point? When life is going well, take the time to enjoy it. When you find yourself about to complain about something minor, don't. Be good to your friends and family. Also, if you are not an organ donor, become one today. Visit this site to do so: http://www.donatelifeohio.org/.

Friday Trivia

2007-10-04T18:57:00.000-04:00

Well things are calming down here, thankfully. Mr. Big Momma's car is fixed so I can retire my shuttle service for now. Sasha is doing well, although she won't put her paw down onto the ground. She is moving really fast and hopping at the same time. It is quite something to see! Luckily she isn't moving much. She did decide to get onto the couch last night...by jumping over the back of it. Go figure.

For the last few years I have been whining about not being able to find a book club to join. I have finally found one that will have me and we are meeting for the first time in two weeks. The book is "Water for Elephants" by Sara Gruen. I purchased it sometime in early August and didn't pick it up until this weekend. I ready the Prologue but wasn't feeling it. So I put it down. Panic set in....how could I not read the first book for this new book club? I figured I probably would get kicked out. Way to go Big Momma. But last night I decided to give it another chance. I am so glad that I did. I couldn't put it down. I'm hoping to have it finished before the end of the weekend.

Anyway, here is the movie quote for the week:

"I have a head for business and a body for sin."

This is from a movie that was made in the 80s, but I didn't see it until a few years ago. With all its big hair, blue eyeshadow and shoulder pads, how could you go wrong?

She's chillin, she's illin.

2007-10-03T10:54:00.000-04:00

This is my dog, Sasha:

This is Sasha on drugs:

Any questions?

Well, Miss Sasha made it through the surgery. I dropped her off at 8am as surgery was scheduled for 9:30am. I got a call from the vet at 10am saying she was ready to be picked up. She woke up immediately after the surgery, and in typical Sasha fashion, was trying to claw her way out of the cage. So, the vet felt she would be better recovering at home. This was better for me too! It is so weird to be home when your dog isn't. I caught myself several times looking for her.

When she was brought into the exam room, she seemed like her normal self. Not as groggy as I thought she would be. However, she bumped into a few walls on the way out. Aaah, gotta love those doggie drugs.

The vet cut open the mass and said that it was mainly fibrous tissue, so cancer is unlikely. They are sending it out for a biopsy, just to be safe.

She is still adjusting to the bandage on her foot. Sometimes she walks on it and other times she hops so she doesn't have to step on it. Sasha is weird about her feet. She hates to have them touched. Maybe I'll post some video later.

So, thanks to my heavy metal groomer for noticing the mass. Thanks to Dr. Nicol at Beechwold Vet Hospital for taking care of my girl! I think Sasha would like to thank us for paying the bill!

Big Momma's Buns Part 2: Electric Boogaloo

2007-10-02T14:07:00.000-04:00

I decided to bake the cinnamon buns from September's Daring Bakers challenge again. Mine were good, but they didn't look enough like the spiral rolls that they should have been. I had some trouble with the first batch of dough...it was too sticky. This made them difficult to roll up. As you can see, batch 2 turned out much better. Tasted better as well.

The other reason I decide to bake was because baking makes me feel better. I had a crappy day yesterday. You know, one of those days where you feel like the world is against you. I feel like we are having a run of bad luck. Here is why:

1. Mr. Big Momma's car is in the shop again. It was in for 3 days last week. Now it is requiring $1000 in repairs. The thought of having to buy a new car make me want to vomit.

2. Pappy's father is still in the hospital. It seemed like he was getting better....

3. Sasha went to the Heavy Metal groomer yesterday where they found a bump on her paw.

4. I am worried that Jr. isn't giving his all in school.

But, things started to get better once I began baking. Why you ask?

1. Jr. was at our house last night. Golf season is over so we were able to sit down and have dinner together.

2. I was able to bake because my workload has decreased a bit. Only temporary, but I'll take it!

3. My favorite show is on Monday night. Top Gear, 8pm on BBC America. You should check it out. Not only do you get to see fast cars, but it is hilarious!!

4. Jenson Button, a Formaula One driver was the celebrity guest on Top Gear. That leads me to believe he is not THE STIG. Good thing, because in my mind the stig is Michael Schumacher.

5. Mr. Big Momma was cracking me up with his accents. Last night he was working on his Irish accent. He really should scrap the architecture thing for a career in voice overs.

So, I felt like things were on the up and up. Until about 9am this morning. I took Sasha to the vet so they could look at her lump. They do not think it is cancer, but they are going to remove it tomorrow. They are assuring me that her age (10) shouldn't be a problem in putting her under. She will come home tomorrow night, thankfully. They are going to put a brace on her paw to immobilize it for a few weeks. I'm sure that will go over well. Hopefully she won't need one of those head cones. My poor little poochie.

Big Momma's Buns

2007-09-30T22:33:00.000-04:00

OK now, get your mind out of the gutter. I don't mean those buns, I mean these buns ---->

I have joined a group called Daring Bakers. Each month the DBers send out a baking challenge. Everyone involved must bake the recipe as is, with only the preapproved substitutions. Then we all post the results on our blogs as well as the DB blog which is super duper top secret.

That's right folks, Members Only!

September's challenge was cinnamon rolls. They turned out quite good and they were very easy. I was hoping for a challenge but then realized it was probably better that my first attempt wasn't something too complicated. If you would like a recipe or a dozen, just let me know. For more information on Daring Bakers and to see the blog roll, please click here visit http://daringbakersblogroll.blogspot.com/.

If you would like the recipe, you can find it at my new friend Pip in the City's blog at http://pipinthecity.wordpress.com/.

Recycled trivia

2007-09-27T22:03:00.000-04:00

Being an environmentally minded person (and a bit lazy and tired from the week), I have decided to recycle last Friday's trivia post. I picked another line from the same movie. It is actually my favorite line, but I didn't post it last week because I thought it was too easy. Have at it.

"A fat lady barfed in her purse. The Donnelley twins barfed on each other, and the Women's Auxiliary barfed all over the Benevolent Order of Antelopes."

Happy Friday everyone and Go Bucks!

The Humpty Dance is your chance to do the hump...

2007-09-26T22:15:00.001-04:00

Whatever that means? Perhaps a sexual reference? I am a bit naive when it comes to these things. There was a song a few years ago...went a little something like this..."baby when we're grinding, I get so excited....Step back you're dancing kinda close I feel a little poke coming through...On you." It was an R&Bish song. Remember it? I had no idea it was about sex. I was shocked when I realized what the poke was. Whenever I hear the Frankie Goes to Hollywood Song ("Relax, don't do it.") I am shocked that I knew and sang the words to this song as a young girl and I had ABSOLUTELY no clue what it was about. I'm sure my parents didn't get it either because they never would have let me listen to it. Although I did find a copy of the single "When I Think About You/I Touch Myself" by The Divinyls in my mom's glove box once when I borrowed her car when I was in college. I guess divorce will do that to you. My male friend B was in the car with me when I found it. His crush on my mom deepened and I'm sure that there was some "poking" going on. Not that I saw it. I was driving, remember? He so wanted my mom to be his cougar.

So, why the title? Today is hump day. Only two more days until Friday! I am looking at another weekend catching up on work, but at least I can work on the couch with my pajamas on. Enjoy the rest of the week folks!

2007-09-26T22:15:00.000-04:00

Mr. and Mrs. Clintonville Big Momma, Nine years and still going strong

2007-09-20T21:24:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was our 9th wedding anniversary. I was out of town for work, so there was no celebration. A fellow coworker was on campus with me yesterday and I told him that it was our anniversary while we were eating lunch. His first comment was, "Go home. You should celebrate with your man!" Agreed. Anniversaries deserve to be celebrated, especially in a world of two minute marriages. But, I truly feel that this occasion shouldn't be only celebrated one day a year. When you have that right person in your life, you should celebrate that every day. Marriage is work, but it is work that comes with rewards. Those rewards should be cherished. OK, I'm bordering on being cheesy, so I'll stop.

I am a product of divorced parents. My parents divorced during my freshman year of college. It was quite a difficult period for me, but really more difficult for my sister who is six years younger. She lived at home and had to deal with the reality of our parent's divorce every day. Because I experienced a happy home life for so many years, their divorce crippled me in many ways. Unfortunately I didn't realize this until years later. I was convinced, for many years, that I would never marry. I thought that marriage was a joke and felt that it was a bond that was too easy to break. But, I met the right guy and all of that changed. Thankfully, otherwise I would have missed out. I came to realize that the right marriage can empower you, make you a better person. It has challenged me in many ways over the years, and I have learned a lot. I still don't understand why when my husband gets a glass out of the cabinet he doesn't shut the door, but the reality is that it is a lot easier to just shut it than to worry about it or question it. Life is too short to sweat the small stuff. That is probably the biggest thing I have learned from my husband. He is Mr. Laid Back, Mr. No Worries. And I don't mean that in a reckless sense. I have always been Mrs. Psycho Path, Mrs. High Strung. A natural born worry-wart. I have learned that I can't change who I am, but that I can learn from those who do better than I do.

So I guess what I am trying to say is, yeah us for being able to pulling this off for nine years. After nine years we are still in love and like one another. My man totally gets me, and I appreciate that. So, Mr. Big Momma, maybe we can get our celebration on this weekend, during Jr.'s golf outing, grocery shopping, etc. It is those everyday moments in life that are the most special. Cheers to us for the last nine years and cheers to the years to come. It will be interesting to see what the future bring. I am sure that it will be great!

Friday movie trivia

2007-09-20T19:50:00.000-04:00

Lima, Ohio must be the Halloween Capital of THE WORLD. Driving around the last two days, I have seen countless signs for haunted houses, haunted field walks and even a haunted trailor. If only I had more time here...

So, Halloween has me thinking about candy, which leads me to Friday's movie quote:

" If I could only have one food to eat for the rest of my life? That's easy. Pez. Cherry flavor Pez. No question about it."

I prefer Orange, in case you were wondering.

Friday Trivia

2007-09-15T21:21:00.000-04:00

I have to tell you that I had a great day yesterday. My husband called to tell me that the team I hate most in Formula One (and the team that is beating my beloved Ferrari this season) had been fined $ 100 MILLION DOLLARS. Oh, Behave! They have also been stripped of their championship points. Yeah!! As long as Ferrari scores 6 more points in tomorrow’s race than the third place team, they will have clinched the championship. If only The Great One was still around to enjoy another championship. Can you believe that they were fined that much? Sick money. The reason this team was fined was because they stole information from the Ferrari team that greatly improved their cars. Like I always say, cheaters never win. I also had a great day at work yesterday. After I left campus, I turned the radio up and had a Jerry Maguire moment, jamming and celebrating the success of the day. It really was just like that except for the fact that I was jamming to Copacabana instead of Free falling. Oh well. I really am getting old. Thursday night I was watching a special about The Ohio State Band (yes, it was on WOSU) and I found myself wishing aloud that I had been a member during my days there. I asked my husband if the band was now cool or I was just getting old. I think you can guess what he said…. OK, so maybe I wouldn’t have wanted to play an instrument. I would have wanted to be the baton twirler. The drum major? Is that what they call that person? I’m also sure I would have made an excellent Brutus! If only I could go back in time.

Anyhoo, on to the movie quote of the day. Hopefully I have convinced you not to cheat!

“I think all you need is a small taste of success, and you will find it suits you.”