I’ll take potpourri for $600 Alex.

pot·pour·ri

Pronunciation: \ˌpō-pu̇-ˈrē\

Function: noun

1 : a mixture of flowers, herbs, and spices that is usually kept in a jar and used for scent

2 : a miscellaneous collection  

 

Definition courtesy of Merriam-Webster.com.

 

I, of course mean the second definition of the word, as they do on Jeopardy (hence the post title). I just have some random shit floating around that I want to throw out there.

 

First and foremost: GO ME!! I quit smoking! I am very happy and very proud of myself. I still have some difficult times, especially in the car on the way to work in the morning. I have to talk myself out of stopping at every single gas station I pass. But on the whole, it is going very well for me. I don't wanna be a smoker anymore. And to reinforce one of the main reasons I am quitting (that would, of course, be my health) I have started regularly running again. Damn I missed that! I had completely forgotten just how much I loved to run. There is nothing more therapeutic in the world for me then my feet pounding the pavement and feeling the wind through my hair. And I can really feel my lung capacity returning to me quickly. I seem to be getting stronger every day. And my hair smells nicer! That's a plus!

 

Our bathrooms are out of commission right now in our office. I have to go use a porta john that is on a construction site. That means that it is used dozens of times a day by construction workers. And let me tell you. Your typical construction worker looks NOTHING like the guy in the diet coke commercials. Most of them super dirty and have hairy ass cracks sticking out at all times. And yes, let us not forget that it is March in Pennsylvania. It is cold out there. I am just so grossed out and pissed off at the whole thing.

 

April is really hairy for me. Soccer and Basketball overlap for one month. Its nuts. I will be running to and from practice or games almost every singe day of the week – for one or both kids.  Im tired already and it hasn't even started yet.

 

That's about all the updating I have time for right now. If I get a free minute I might post some more. Either that or I will actually write something entertaining for a change.

 

 

Yeah Baby!!

Baseball Season is Starting!!!
My favorite time of the year!

Go Sawx!!

The story of Izzy and the Colonel.

Izzy is almost 2 yrs old. When we got him at the shelter they told us he was a male domestic shorthair. After we got him home, we took a peek under his tail and what I saw looked like girl to me. Now, I am no doctor of veterinary medicine, but I thought I would be able to recognize male genetalia when I saw it. We named her Isabel. She was a gift for Shay for her 7th birthday. But she quickly became my baby. She developed an upper respiratory infection (which is quite common among shelter cats) and we had to take frequent trips to the vets for medicine and check ups. On about the third trip the doc was taking the kitty’s temp in the poop hole when he says "Uh Miss? This cat is a boy" He pushes on just the right spot and a little red worm like thing pops out."See? That’s his penis" Oops. Apparently kitten testicles don’t drop and become visable until they are a little older. My bad. Uh, I guess we will call him Izzy.

The little critter quickly became a huge part of our lives. Its hard not to love this cat. He is just the sweetest little loverboy ever. One day, while in the car, Shay says "Mom, I’m a little sad that Izzy really isn’t a girl because now she cant have kittens" I explain to her that although having kittens around the house might be nice, we wouldn’t be able to keep them, and finding homes for all of them and giving them away would be a hard thing to do. "Besides" I added "I plan on getting Izzy fixed very soon" Jared piped up from out of nowhere "Does that mean you are going to turn him back into a girl"?? LOL funny kid.

Fast forward to about a year later. This little orange kitty started hanging around our front porch. He was just a kitten and very friendly. I would sit on the bench on my front porch and hold the little guy while he would purr and fall asleep. He was so sweet. We started feeding him and we named him Fenway. He was coming around all the time and we were growing attached to him. When the weather started to get cooler, I decided that I was gonna take him to the vet, get him cleaned up and vaccinated and bring him in to our home. The moment I made that decision, we never saw Fenway again. I don’t know what happened to the poor little guy but I can only assume the worst. The kids, of course, were devastated. We talked a lot and went back and forth and finally decided to answer an ad in the paper for free kittens. We were in luck! They had one left!

This begins the story of The Colonel:

I get directions from some guy on the phone to go and see the kitty. We pull up to this place and the first thing we see is a little naked kid standing in the window. We knock on the door and Ed Norton’s character from American History X answered. Skinny little prick in a wife beater, covered in tattoos, cigarette hanging out of his mouth and an overflowing ashtray in his hand. We go in through the doorway and step right into white trash world. Naked kids, garbage, and mangy cats all over the place. My children stood right inside the doorway, frozen in horror. The "lady" of the house apparently didn’t consider our company significant enough to bother putting on a bra or even taking any simple personal hygienic steps most would consider a common courtesy. This looker shrieked for the cat thinking (I guess) that he would come running to the sound of a dying bird?? She finally chases the cat down and hands him to me. He is flea infested, dirty, and has an apparent mental disability. (ever see a cat with downs syndrome?) But I could not leave that poor creature in that house. I thanked the nice couple and brought the kitty home with us. He was wormed and de-loused and vaccinated and cleaned up and brought into our home. His official name is Stewie. But I call him the Colonel. He looks a lot like Col. Sanders to me with that kick ass goatee. He is also affectionately called Kentucky Fried Kitty. It took a little bit before Izzy was comfortable with him but now they are the best of buds. They are so cute when they play together.
At his first vet visit, the doc looked into the Colonels ears and apparently missed the beginnings of an earmite infestation. A few months later I had Izzy at the docs for a check up and some booster shots and Dr. Zhoni found a whole colony of those nasty little critters. So now I have to treat both kitties. Poor little guys. I have to hold them down twice a day and give them drops in their ears. They absolutely HATE it. I am all scratched up from this. I just wish I could explain to them that its for their own good. They have no idea why momma is torturing them like this. They aren’t used to getting anything but love from me.
I wonder what the little one is going to do when I get him fixed next week?

Things that piss me off.

In no particular order.

Adults who talk like babies. When conversing with other adults! It is neither cute nor funny. I have no time or patience for you. Get the hell out of my face.

Getting stuck behind a school bus on my commute to work. I am always running late the way it is. They shouldn’t be allowed on major roads.

Having to be at work a 7am. That should be illegal.

Dumbasses with word decals on their vehicles. I was stuck behind a Jeep this morning obviously owned by some jackass named SCOTT who thinks I wouldn’t understand because "It’s a Jeep thing". And get this, this prick even put that stupid Apple sticker that comes with your iPod or any other Mac product on his Jeep. Fuck you Scott. I hate you.

A bad cup of coffee.

SPITTING! Almost every single male I work with chews tobacco and they all spit in the garbage cans. It is frikkin disgusting. They make me want to puke.

Buying Sudafed pisses me off. I love that shit. My sinuses are all fucked up and Sudafed helps me to keep from killing someone because they are stupid (inevitably) and I have had a sinus headache for three days straight. But I hate having to go to the pharmacy and buy one box at a time, sign a stupid piece of paper, provide three forms of identification, only to have the dumbass pharmacy assistant look me up and down and question to herself whether or not I plan to manufacture meth. I don’t even know why people make meth with that shit, it is plenty good the way it is.

Pennsylvania drivers. Pretty much all of them.

Any song that contains the word "Shorty"

My neighbors. They park their cars all over the damn place not giving a shit if anyone else has a place to park near their house. (yea - on street parking pisses me off too) Their stupid cat shits on my back porch all the time and their ugly dog barks constantly. They all suck and I wish they would move.

I feel so violated.

Only me… seriously. I might be the only person in the world that shit like this happens to…

 

 

So the other day, at work, I need to hang up some prints on the wall in our main conference room. I am standing on a chair (its back is against the wall) reaching up to staple the corner (I bet you think you know where this is going…but I’m tellin ya right now, you have NO CLUE) I get one corner down and I step over to another chair to staple the other corner. I go to hop off of the chair that I am on, not noticing that there is another chair right behind me and I land on the corner edge of this straight back chair ramming it RIGHT UP MY ASS!  owww! Hits me square in the butt hole. About how high do you think your standard run of the mill office chair is? I don’t know, but I would guess it’s about, ohh… a foot and a half higher than my ass. Did you get that visual? Ugh! It hurt so bad.

 

And my bung hole wasn’t the only thing injured. If I am going to be anally raped by office furniture, of course I am going to need an audience right? Oh yea. There were about 6 men in the conference room at the time to witness my trauma. They tried to act concerned when they saw me struggling to breathe and in obvious pain but they had a very difficult time maintaining their composure. They were biting their tongues and almost crying trying not to laugh. And to top it all off, I come in my office to a big ass danger sign and caution tape all over my desk chair. My sore ass was quite the source of amusement around here.

 

And now that I have had time to rest and recover from the trauma, I can giggle too. I can see the humor there. Believe me, I am about as mature as a 15 yr old boy. That is some funny shit.

 

Embarrassing as hell, but funny nonetheless.

 

I should be able to walk normally soon.