Rapier's Wit

Far Side cartoon by Dave Larson Earlier today I stated in a post that I had the kookiest dreams. I said I had three, but I can't remember the third one. I knew I should have written it down when I woke up. Oh well, I brain farted. At least it wasn't a shart! I would have forgotten all of my Thera-Flu induced dreams. ***************** Riss, the Obamas ... and John Edwards ****************** It's obvious I was in my home, but it wasn't exactly like the place I'm living in now. The doorbell rang, which doesn't work in my current home. I opened the door and gasped at the vision standing before me. Three people stood on my porch: President-elect Barack Obama, his lovely wife Michelle and John Edwards. I welcomed them and stumbled over myself with salutations, "Mr. and Mrs. Obama, it is not everyday the President-elect and his wife grace me with their presence, but add in the Vice President-elect .... ooh, sorry, Mr. Edwards. My bad." With that I screwed u...

This morning I awoke from the kookiest dream. In fact, I had three separate, totally unrelated odd dreams. I'm not sure if it's the onset of illness or the effects of doping up on Thera-Flu before bed. I had intentions of writing about those dreams and allowing you, the reader, to dissect my psyche. I might still do that, but later today or perhaps tomorrow. Instead, I am going to share with you a quote that had my eyes welling up with tears. This is yet another item shared by a friend on Plurk. Quotesnack is spearheaded by Ablereach . She is a lover of the written word and revels in sharing her love by utilizing CafePress' quotesnack section. I feel it's necessary to give her full credit for today's post. I am not well read; nor am I a voracious reader. However, such quotes always make my hunger for reading increase. I may be 43, but I'm far from completing my education in life. I will stop my rambling and simply put forth the Ralph Waldo Emerson qu...

November 24 marked the 1 Year Anniversary of WILDHAIR . I honestly didn't realize the exact date I first embarked on this blog. Prior to blogging on blogspo t, I had been writing and posting on Myspace. My hope by writing on blogspot was to gain a greater readership by broadening the spectrum. With over 12,000 hits, I suppose that wish came true. Although, the appeal of my writing hasn't caught on like wildfire. I admit I am not a writer, but I do relish putting my thoughts and perspective out there for others to peruse. While looking back at my posts for some inspiration, I read a memory that was amongst the first posted on WILDHAIR . It fits in with an earlier query about the traditions we honor each holiday season. Many of our family traditions unfortunately died when my mother passed away. It's sad, but our emotions and minds had become as scattered as the locales of my siblings. New people were brought into the fold and new traditions began. It is, by no means, a jab a...

Black Friday. Daunting term. I realize it supposedly marks the first massive spending day for the holiday season. This day, in theory, will stimulate the economy and encourage everybody to shop and spend their children's college fund (if they are so fortunate), or yank money out of their 401k to shower their family and friends with tons of gifts. If you're like someone I call Blondezilla, you buy loads of goodies for yourself to and you, at age 44, call your daddy and ask him to put more money in your account to cover the checks you wrote *giggle*. Barf! Black Friday. Black Plague, Black Flag Ant & Roach Killer. Black Bart, Black Pearl the Pirate Ship. You get the point. The biggest day of shopping has an ominous tone in my world. I do not enjoy shopping. I might splurge from time to time at Bath & Body Works when they are having one of their mega clearance sales. I will partake in a ridiculously marked down pair of shoes or boots. I am not a brand or designer name de...

Thanks to the hilariously creative ladies at Plurk, I have this meme to occupy me. Yeah, I'm looking at you Cajunvegan , CitizenJaney and AsKatKnits . TEN things you wish you could say to TEN different people right now: 1. Maybe if you hadn't lied you wouldn't be in this predicament. 2. Hypocrite! Party of YOU! 3. I hope karma bites your ass hard, you vindictive bitch! 4. Please, stop breaking my heart. 5. Seriously, get over yourself. 6. When I grace you with my presence, it has nothing to do with liking or respecting you. 7. My life would be meaningless without you in it. 8. I thought you were a compassionate guy. I realize you're nothing more than pathetic. 9. I might be fat, but you'll always be a c**t. 10. You really do enjoy the sound of your own voice, don't you? NINE things about yourself: 1. I like very few people. 2. I got hit in the head by a merry-go-round when I fell off. I have a dent in my skull as a result. 3. I was 18 the first time I flew on a...

The following is a recipe our doctor at work shared. I'm pretty certain his wife made it the day he brought it in, but oh wowsers! I could have eaten the entire thing. I think with larger pieces of chicken it would be a most scrumptious casserole. The Ingredients for No Bones Chicken Wing Dip 1 pkg (8 oz.) cream cheese, softened 2 cups (16 oz.) sour cream 1 cup blue cheese salad dressing 1/2 cup buffalo wing sauce (Louisiana) 2 1/2 cubs shredded, cooked chicken 1 block (8 oz.) provolone cheese, shredded crackers, pita chips, celery, carrots -- whatever you like for dipping In a large mixing bowl, beat the cream cheese, sour cream, salad dressing and buffalo wing sauce until blended. Stir in chicken and provolone cheese Transfer to a greased 2 qt. baking dish. Cover and bake at 350 degrees for 25-30 minutes or until hot and bubbly. Serve warm -- yields 6 1/2 cups.

I was checking out the vids on youtube because I was avoiding kitchen duty. The chili I made in the crock pot and consumed is settling heavily in my gut. Perhaps it was the second piece of corn bread. No matter, I have no desire to move. While on the most popular video uploading site known to man (perhaps just me), I thought I'd find inspiration for a Thanksgiving post. My initial consideration was to share a pictorial montage set to the tune "Over the River and Through the Woods ..." You know the old standard song. No one knows the words beyond the introduction. The rest is just hummed or, in my case, made up to suit the mood. With consideration to the knowledge that I am, by no means, a standard kind of girl, I thought of this little catchy song: Now, before you go screwing up your face and say, "Marissa, what the hell does that song have to do with giving thanks? You screwball woman!" Let me explain. Man-cub and I are compadres. We travel together often. A...

All day I haven't been able to get Schweaty's Balls out of my head. I blame Not A Mean Girl . On plurk, she informed us how she'd been up until 2:30 a.m. making various candies. That includes peanut butter and coconut balls. To which, I replied in that plurk "Schweaty Balls?" On NAMG's blog post for today, she talks about how this exhausting tradition is what gives the holidays meaning. Without all the candy making there'd be an element missing. She inquires as to what traditions we hold dear around the holidays. I had to really think hard and I still came up with only one reply: I show up for dinner and drinks when invited. Pretty stellar stuff, huh? My childhood memories always involve traditions or expectations put forth by my mother. Every Thanksgiving our family alternated being host with our aunt and uncle. I preferred going to their house because 1) it seemed like we were really going somewhere even though they only lived across town 2) my cousin h...

This was sent to me by my sister's dearest friend Kris. I'm fortunate to have her as a friend and confidante, too. She never fails to send me such things on days like today. Today was a very frustrating workday. It seemed those who are expected to be informative and professional lost all comprehension and ability to serve the customer. Perhaps it was just my perspective and I'm being a bit harsh. I can only say that from my point of view, I was asked inane questions and interrupted numerous times. This, in turn, caused my own work to be delayed and I was left rushing. When I rush and can't concentrate, mistakes are made. When I am derailed, and keep in mind I'm a slave to the clock ticking away, I get irritable and unfriendly. I'm curt and dismissive. My psycho vein visible throbs on the left side of my head. It's not pretty and people eventually get the idea that it's best to seek the help of someone who isn't me. I have a job to do. One hour to do ...

I have mentioned a little social network site called PLURK fairly often. I have met some of the most interesting, diverse, whip-smart, witty, compassionate people via that site. It's proof that there is more to the Internet than porn! Some of these fabulous pleeps (as they are referred to plurk + people = pleeple) have put their amazing noggins together to come up with this fantastic contest. It's easy. I know I'm behind on the draw to get the word out, but it's not too late! Just follow the rules below. You'll discover some truly interesting blogs while getting a crack at winning prizes! WOOT! Win/Win! Now, the rules. You can enter once per participating blog per day. Entries are simple… just comment on our post for the day. If you blog and would like to post about our contest, doing so will get you 5 extra entries. There will be 2 winners. Each winner will need to give us a mini bio of your family. (Ages, genders, wants, needs, likes) and we will buy prizes accor...

This might become a regular Sunday event on this here little Wildhair thing I present. I'm fairly inconsistent, but I might be able to pull off one thing that's an expectation. For whatever reason, when I was a regular attendee of church services, I enjoyed reading the announcements and happenings within the community. Deep down I think I was hoping for some hilarious typo or poorly worded phrase to send into Jay Leno. So, without further ado, I give you a synopsis of my week and upcoming events: Monday wasn't too eventful. However, I was discussing, with co-workers, an unfortunate situation for Mancub at school. A near crisis had arisen the week prior. It's a difficult place for him to be. He is a minority in his school. He's also soft-hearted and bigger than the rest of the kids. They seem to enjoy toying with him. He tries hard to keep cool, but it's not easy when other animals join in the frenzy. Last week he called me from school. Apparently, some nimrod ca...

There are days when that's all I can muster. Charlie Brown's teacher never said anything other than, "Wah-wah-wah-wah." Today, that is all I have the spirit to say. I think I worked too hard being perky and chipper at work this week. It's not that I'm miserable and always spitting venom. It boils down to me making a grand attempt at making myself happier by exuding a more positive energy. In doing so, I feel spent. With great sincerity, I am working toward being a kinder person. It's not often an easy task seeing the positive in the people you absolutely do no respect. I look to the heavens for guidance and patience -- and forgiveness. I'm still mumbling under my breath, but doing so far less. I've been singing again. At work, that is. That is my tactic for reducing how much negativity I hear. I go to my happy place when I'm singing. I find joy when people laugh at my fractured lyricism. It's grand to have them beg me to shut up. All the wh...

My son is 14 years old. When I overhear other parents discussing the tribulations of having a teen, I can only beam with pride. Like his mama, Man-cub is content being a solo artist. Much of that has to do with him being diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome when he was in 2nd grade. He's social enough to satisfy his need for communication. Should he encounter another kid who is into Yu-Gi-OH! trading cards and games, he'll relish the moment and beg for a rousing card duel. Otherwise, video games and his love of cartoons is all he needs. Due to having Asperger's, he has struggled with school. He's never failed a subject, but he requires extra attention and focus to complete the daily work. If it's a writing assignment, he flounders because it requires so much focus to keep his mind on the subject matter. His teachers tell me when it comes to oral essays he is brilliant. His mind and body work in unison. When it's a written essay, the thoughts become jumbled and...

"The essence of love begins when infatuation ends." ~ Unknown As elementary school children, we develop likes for boys or girls. When it's unrequited these likes are referred to as crushes. Or, when the other person is unaware of your affections it's a crush or secret crush. Unfortunately, as we age, the premise doesn't change. Oh, we might have more courage in expressing ourselves, but the bottom line it's downright frightening to embark upon the unknown and risk having your heart torn to shreds. "The love that lasts longest is the love that is never returned." ~ Somerset Maugham When I was married, I'd get crushes on his friends, male acquaintances, or co-workers. The expectation was that the lines of decency would never be crossed. After all, what might the point be? I surmise that their flirtation and attention filled a void. Had I accepted or invited their advances, it would create a seriously disturbing situation. I admit that in the bac...

Yesterday I was wicked busy. I can't get into it all right now because the work-a-beast is sneaking up behind me and it's necessary that I get my fanny in gear. Lydia, I am not shirking my responsibilities as a NaBloPoMo participant! I'll write double today for what I missed yesterday. In the meantime, I leave you with this image:

I have serious noggin' throb. I blame the barometric pressure. It seems to have an effect on my cranium. Temperature change? Thump thump thump. I'm sure I need a new mattress. I could use a chiropractor. A massage wouldn't hurt. I have Advil and a heating pad. Sunday was a day of feeling puny. So, much of it was spent on the couch. I was feeling Christmassy for some bizarre reason. The Man-cub and I selected CHRISTMAS VACATION to watch while I zoned out. Boy, did I zone out! I swear the couch injected me with a sleep serum the minute Chevy Chase got the blasted lights to illuminate. I awoke in time for Aunt Bethany to belt out "play ball!" Zoinks!! This morning I awoke feeling relatively well. I sent the boy off to school and got comfy. Where? On the couch, of course. I was cozy with my two faux fur throw blankets and watched Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story. I could have gone the rest of my life not seeing it. The next flick on the mini-screen at casa de Riss? WAR,...

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

If you don't already know it, I was one of eight children growing up. I was the baby. By the time my memory of childhood kicked in, the two eldest children were on their way out the door and the third in line was about to get married. I have vague recollection of life before Kindergarten. I know my sister Maureen would be able to clarify how old I was when Dad built an ice rink in our backyard. That would be the same year where I got double bladed ice skates for Christmas. My trainer skates. I would dream of taking figure skating lessons and being able to gracefully twirl and leap like Peggy Fleming. Our community park district used to freeze the tennis courts at the park less than a mile away from our house. It sat along the Kankakee River which provided a picturesque backdrop in the snowy winters. We'd bundle up and sling our skates over our shoulders and make tracks to join the neighborhood kids. The older boys would line up barrels and attempt to jump them. I would stand of...

The social network known as Plurk has afforded me the opportunity to encounter utterly fascinating, intelligent, diverse individuals. Today, I have been tagged by two particularly lovely women. First up, Not A Mean Girl . She is genuinely kind and warm. She's the person who puts her heart and soul out there for all to see. For that, I admire her. Second tagger is Yoonamaniac . She considers herself a misanthrope. I can respect that self-label. However, I just see her as someone who is very discerning with whom she lets in her life. I can totally dig that. Here are the rules: Step #1 - Link to the person who tagged you. See above. Step #2 - Write Five Fun/Interesting Facts about yourself. This gives fellow bloggers (and your readership) a chance to actually get to know you better. 1. I was cursedly nicknamed Sarah Heartburn when I was a little girl. It's a name play on the silent film actress Sarah Burnhardt. Apparently, I was quite dramatic and cried easily. I'm sure it was...

Here are the fantabulous results of the album cover meme: ~pritcharddesign ~ ~kevin~ ~robyn~ Thanks for playing along, kids! Hmmph. I really had hoped more people would have done this exercise in easy creativity. But nooooo. Criminitly! I guess I'll try the "tag! you're it!" method of intimidation and obligation next time.

This week has been weird. I'm pretty much in full on snark, kiss my ass mode. I've had to refrain from expelling it at work after having taken an online human resource course. Mandatory, mind you. Apparently I'm considered a supervisor. Go me. I'm a supervisor when it's convenient. Again, go me. Needless to say, due to said HR seminar, I am watching my p's and q's. Man, it's hard. For a girl who consistently mutters the f-bomb under her breath, I'm a freakin' atom bomb waiting to explode. I rattle off a stream of expletives when people get on my last nerve. At work, that doesn't take long. I keep it low and I'm pretty sure no one actually hears me call them asshatmoronstupidmutherfuckingdipshit. I know, I know. My blog is usually very family friendly. Well, it's at least mostly PG-13 to PG. But damn it, I'm sick of holding my tongue. I am comfortable stating that my workplace is the antithesis of Disney World. Happiest place on Ea...

There comes a time when I actually run out of thing to say or comment about. Sometimes I'm outrageously observant. Today is not one of those days. I'm highly irritable for no profound reason. I guess my inner child wants to sulk. For the past few days I've been playing a low-energy cat and mouse game with Savannah Blue Eyes. It's just something we do a couple of times a year. It makes no sense, but we're only hurting ourselves. Neither of us is dating. He'll never follow through on threats he makes to just show up on my doorstep; I can't afford to show up on his. Not only that, but the time I actually get my poop in a group and try to pull off the romantic move of my century, he'll have a girlfriend and I would have flown on El Cheapo airlines to be rejected. No thank you. Blue Eyes and I hung up the emails and talked on le telephono. We caught up with what our children are doing. He shared his cavemanesque political views and I laughed at him. He forge...

This is a fun project I did earlier this year. If you're curious, you can back blog to view it. I felt the need for random creativity. I hope you'll participate and reveal your creation for all to see. Ready? Set? Start clicking! 1. Click on this link . The title of the page is the name of your band. 2. Click on this link . The last four words of the final quotation on the page are the title of your album. 3. Click on this link . The third picture is your album cover. 4. Take the pic, add your band name and album title and tada! (this final step requires photo shop or other image editing software)Let me know in the comments if you created one. If you don't have the software for such time passing leave your results in the comments. Tell me the name of your band, the album title & describe your cover art. We'll have an imaginary blogapaloooooza. Here is the beautimus result of my randomosity:

Today was a very dreary, cold day in Kankakee, Illinois. When I walked to the garage sleet was pelting me in the face. Thank God for my smelly mousse application. It made my hair poofy enough that my skull wasn't damaged by the ice particles falling. For a reason totally unknown to me *coughplurkingcough* I was late to work by twelve minutes. I'm usually Jenny on the Spot when it comes to getting to work. I was so surprised by my own tardiness that I exclaimed, "whoa! I'm really late!" To which my co-worker nodded and said, "Yeah. You really are." I felt scolded. But not to worry. She didn't care and due to it being Veterans Day, a trip to the bank wasn't required. Many customers were waiting outside the gate like the zombies in Dawn of Dead. It's a nightmarish sight for us. It's especially frustrating when they over exaggerate the motion of looking at their watches. Our clocks are computerized and we go by that time, grandpa. With the on...

I avoid going to Wal-Mart as much as possible. There are times,however, that necessitate embarking on a courageous endeavor to the Land of Sam. Yesterday was one of those times. Man-cub is a collector of Yu-Gi-OH! cards. If you don't' know what they are; please don't ask me. Think baseball cards for the anime' age -- sans bubblegum. Anyway, the boy wanted to pick up a new set and Wal-Mart, he was certain, had the cards he wanted. So me, being uber cool and very accommodating, figured I'd pick up some toiletries, groceries, window washer fluid, a tire gauge and anything else that caught my frugal eye. WOO! Wal-Mart, after all, is the sink hole of dancing smiley faces guaranteeing something or other involving value. Man-cub quickly located the desired cards and found me perusing the less than impressive meat selection. He plopped them in the cart and, per the norm, asked if he could go to electronics to play games. "I'm not going to ask to buy a game. I just ...

There are some movies that have been incredibly popular. They've even won awards. Some star phenomenal actors. Many have spectacular special effects and soundtracks. However, in spite of all the hoopla and and stellar names on the screen, I want to punch them in the face for being predictable, stereo-typical and filled with eye rolling catch phrases or one liners. Overall, I just want to punch the movie right in the kisser! Here are my choices. Feel free to disagree. I respect your love for the movies and actors I discuss. I ask that you keep your comments respectful, as well. St. Elmo's Fire -- I'm a major league lover of all things 80s. With the exception of this movie. The Brat Pack is assembled to share with us life after college. Puh-leez! There's not one character in this movie I would have wanted to hang out with during or after college. Spew! Totally. Gag me with a spoon. There's not enough tequila in the world that makes this movie palatable for me. "...

My plurky friend Mahala plurked this only moments ago. Thanks for making my blog post easier!

1. What do you add to your coffee? Hazelnut creamer 2. What are you reading now? The questions to this meme 3. Do you own a gun? No, and it's probably a good thing . 4. Are you registered to vote? Yes, but I've not been consistent -- take me out back and whip me with a soggy noodle. 5. What do you think of Hot Dogs? Dig em if they are Kosher ! 6. Do you get nervous before doctor appointments? Nope. I get nervous paying the bill . 7. Favorite Christmas Song? O Holy Night 8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning? Water then coffee 9. Can you do push ups? I can do push aways 10. What was the name of your first boyfriend? David 11. What's your favorite piece of jewelry? Jewelry isn't my t hing 12. Favorite Hobby? Holly 13. Do you work with people who idolize you? Hell no. I think they are plotting my demise . 14. Do you have ADD? I don't think ... ooh, shiny !! 15. What's one trait that you hate about yourself? Lack of self-esteem 16. What's your middle nam...

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