Rapier's Wit

A week ago today it was raining. It was also my day off and Father's Day. Did I mention the weather sucked? Rather than go lounge in my sister's pool, Mancub and I ventured out for lunch and a movie. Initially we had intended on seeing ... I can't remember. But we were late for the starting time and I'm one of those people who prefers arriving early. I need to be settled in to view the flick and not rushing in the dark theater only to trip over some dipwad's big foot sticking out in the aisle. Due to the time circumstance we watched Land of the Lost. It's a complete sidestep from the television series. However, because it's clear that I have a 12 year old boy's sense of humor, I laughed hysterically right along with Mancub. The work week was pretty typical. Sadly, the economy is taking a toll on business. I'm grateful to be working full-time (a relative term since full-time is considered working 30 hours.) and my benefits remain intact. Fri

I heard the news while at work. I didn't cry nor did it feel the same way as when John Lennon was shot and killed. Heartbreak for the children didn't tug at me as it did with Princess Diana was tragically killed in a motor accident. It was as if a little piece of my childhood passed away. And for that, there is sadness. I've written before that the Jackson 5 helped shaped my personal love of music. It was Michael's "Look over your shoulder, honey!" that developed one of my earliest celebrity crushes. The color of his skin had no relevance. In my little girl mind, Michael was singing for me. I cut that record off the back of a Sugar Crisp cereal box. It was one in a series. It wobbled on the turntable, but oh how I loved that song. I would wait for that famous line to come on and sing right along. Innocence. Fast forward to my freshman year in high school. With time to kill in the afternoon a few of us are gathered around the piano that is on stage

OK, I'm a tall chick. I'm not a rail thin supermodel tall chick. Let's just say my curves make an entrance before I do. There's no secret that I battle with my weight and the weight usually wins. That's not what this is about. I recently signed up on dating website. I'm not revealing which one because I do like to keep some things private. In my profile I state that I am a plus-size "thick" woman of 5'11". Due to my height and size I prefer a man bigger and as tall if not taller than me. I have taken about as much flack for such a preference than I can bear. Men who are shorter seem to give me guff for "setting such a specific parameter therefore limiting the dating pool." Now, my argument is that many women who are much shorter than I prefer men who tower over them. A lot of men that I know who are taller than me prefer petite women. I don't throw a fit and tell them they are fools for having such specific desires.

When I was a wee little lass I had dreams. They weren't monumental nor were they about saving the world. There were no delusions of grandeur about impacting the world with my vocal prowess. With limited intelligence, there was never a chance I'd solve the universal questions. My average qualities kept me grounded. My parents never pushed me in any one direction. They hadn't mapped out my future. So, as I set out into adulthood, I wandered and just took a path that seemed comfortable. Sometimes that path was well tread upon. Periodically, I'd traverse the unknown and stumble upon disappointment and disillusionment. Always a lesson to be learned while taking the road less traveled. Never in my dreams as a little girl did I envision myself as a single mom. I dreamed of a lovely home complete with the dreamy husband. Then, my needle off the record moment occurred. Divorce, debt and disembowelment of dreams. No matter. My parents might have never given me distin

When someone wishes me happy Mother's Day in May, I smile and gush a little over the joys of being Mancub's mom. There's no denying that I feel I was born to be a parent. Little did I realize when I became a mother that I'd fill the role of both parents. Mancub's father and I divorced in '99 and, for the most part, I have carried the load of taking care of business. They'd spend time when I was working on weekends, but if I wasn't working Mancub was with me. Financially it all rests on my shoulders, as well. So, in 2005 we packed up what we could carry on a plane and moved to Illinois. Mancub's father didn't follow as hoped or tentatively planned. He packed up what he could carry in a van and moved to Texas. Since that time there is little visitation and periodic communication. Mancub welcomes any and all that he can get from his dad. Yes, when he isn't looking I roll my eyes and try not to gag. It's trivial to me, but monument

Here and There (From the Movie "Here and There") by Cyndi Lauper More Cyndi Lauper music on iLike

... I saw a woman with her hair colored, cut and styled like Kate Gosselin of blah blah 8 kids yada yada. She was a pregnant woman who, while ordering her food in the food court sounded like Meg Ryan in "When Harry Met Sally." She was accompanied by a man whom I assume to be her husband -- he seemed whipped and or brow beaten. He cowered as she proceeded to order. Presumed child numero uno barely uttered a word as mama ordered for him/her, too. I don't know if the kid was a boy or girl. I was fixated on the exhausting order of the cockatoo head. The woman couldn't have been more picky or precise about how much ice in her Dr. Pepper, the number of olives and tomatoes on her burrito "no beans, please," or how crispy she desired her Potato Ole's to be cooked (for those not in the Taco John's region, they are essentially flat tater tots with seasoning sprinkled on top). I have to mention that her nose was sharply angled exactly like Lois Griffin

Last Thursday (June 11) I paid a visit to The Deal Divas' blog on tampabay.com because writer Stephanie Hayes covered the recent cosmetic prescription to hit the scene. It's being promoted by Brooke Shields. The claim is that this product will help eyelashes grow thicker. Latisse is the brand name. The blog post is short and provides links for information about the product. No, I didn't click and read. That, apparently, was my first mistake. My second mistake was voicing my opinion on money wasted for cosmetic reasons without having done research first. I didn't realize that research was required to comment on a blog about fashion. I assumed the information I needed was contained within the content of the original blog item. I blindly jumped up on my soapbox. I should know better, but I was irritated for whatever reason ... probably from being bombarded with Enzyte commercials that day. Today I returned to see what the Divas were offering up and I discovered th

Sunday was spent mostly resting. I'm not one for naps and if I happen to zonk out it's not intended. A cat nap at best, but Sunday brought a new name for nappyland. I slept for three hours and felt as though more could have been had. Seeing the clock jolted me awake as dinner needed to be prepared for Mancub. I always feel guilty when I'm home and not making the most of the time spent with him. We may be grounded to the house due to lack of funds, but quality time can be watching a movie or program on television together. My return to work after four days off was relatively uneventful. I wasn't hit with a barrage of news about things gone awry. One associate told me it seemed that I took more time off and that I was missed. That's always a welcome thing to hear. Once I got home from work around 7:00 PM, I quickly prepared mini-burgers for Mancub. Having only eaten my lunch around 2:30 I wasn't feeling hungry. Since I hadn't had my Shakeology for t

Yesterday was a fabulous success. I have no idea what the financial tally ended up being. The success comes from family coming together to walk for such a brilliant cause: Relay for Life: American Cancer Society. Our team, Hunger For a Cure, was one of 150 teams. I overheard that our local event increased the team number by 30. Now I know why it was nearly impossible to find a reasonable parking spot. Walking isn't a problem until you're toting a big, honkin ' metal Coleman cooler full of ice and water bottles. OK, so I didn't actually tote it. I pulled up near the main entrance and my nephew Michael met me at the gate. During the opening ceremonies, former American Idol Season 7 contestant Luke Menard performed two songs. His family is local to Kankakee and he is also a cancer survivor. Everyone felt blessed to have him present. He played guitar and sang two songs. My mind is completely drawing a blank, but he sang compassionately and beautifully. I was on th

I've entered a photo contest. I do not proclaim to be a good or even mediocre photographer. My pics are taken on a cute, pink Sony Cybershot that I got on sale at Target. It suits my needs. So, please don't expect to see award winning snapshots. I'm just having a good time and it takes my mind off having a car with jacked up a/c. The sponsor of this scavenger hunt like photo contest is Eaglehawk . The rules were simple (thank God because I have a hard time following rules and instructions.) Here are the required items: Baseball, Flag, Corn, Dog, Cow, Train, Turtle, Out of Control, Pizza, Heat, House, Roses, Wheel, Jungle Gym, Squirrel and Bottle Mancub had to dig this out of his closet This was snapped while driving around a historic neighborhood Look ma! No hands. It's stuffed, but it's canine-like. This is the post mooing form of cow: Meatballs This reflects physical training ... if ever utilized. Cowabunga, Dude! Silver attacking an innocent ruler. Sh

In dire need of a pedicure, I bravely post a photo of my feet. I hate feet. Particularly my own dawgies. They don't match and they are huge. Ick! However, I am making a statement: I am off work for four days and boy am I going to make the best of it. I officially put my feet up and just enjoyed a few moments of solitude . After going to the auto shop to pay for repairs on my car, I am totally broke. Zilch remains in my paltry rainy day fund. La Banque du Cochon is currently emaciated. The alternator was corroded and I ought to consider myself lucky to have never been left stranded on the highway. Because the alternator was shot, the car ran solely on the already strained power of the battery. With 1,000 miles over the 3,000 recommended oil change, it was also time for an oil change. Add to that list, my a/c stopped working back in early autumn. It was blowing air, but the cold was void. Alas, my Saturn needed serious attention. I'm not bitching about having to put for

+ You know you want me. Oh yeah. Sexy, tipsy and regular. It's the side of the cougar television never tells you about. Rawr ... now, can you point me towards the ladies room?

It's no secret that I'm a single mom. I support myself and Mancub without any help from his father. This isn't a bitch session about that. I made my bed and now I sleep in it. I'm here to declare that I'm friggin' tired and need a dot gammed vacation from the work place. I'm sick of all the internal shiznit that takes place. I know I'm not alone, but I haven't taken more than a couple days off in a row in a long time. I might internally combust if I don't get some relief. I appreciate having employment. Don't get me wrong and don't for a second believe I am looking a gift horse in the mouth. I'm on my feet all f'ing day long and I hurt. I ache. Again, if I'm not permitted to just forget that place for an extended amount of time we might need to call upon the finest CSI team in the country. JUST SAYIN'! I turn to Queen of Disco Donna Summer to sing it! And once she's done singing, Mr. Mercury and the boys can

Rather than waiting for two weeks of laundry to accumulate, I decided to drag a couple small loads to the local launderette this afternoon. I won't be off work again until Sunday and by that time I would run out of nicer underpants, black socks and slacks. The laundromat is adjacent to the Phillips 66 station. I get a free soda or coffee for doing my laundry there. Yeah, I know. Chill on the envy monster. You all can't live my high-glamour lifestyle. Vicarious living, baby. I was the only patron on the wash and dry side. While my clothes were agitating I read excerpts from Chuck Klosterman IV. For me, that book is great when you don't want to get too deep in a plot. It's just articles taken from his various gigs with Esquire, Spin, etc... I found myself quite parched and while I don't always partake in the freebie soda, I decided today was the day. I wish they offered water. I really need to lay off the soda . While I was attempting to get the right ice

Following in the steps of music critic and man about town -- Sean Daly -- I need a playlist to turn up the heat in Illinois. It's June 2 and the current temperature is 48. FORTY-EIGHT DEGREES FAHRENHEIT! It's quite ridiculous that I have to wear a light sweater when I ought to be grossing out teen agers with my old lady arm flab waving at them as I drive by with my car windows open while wearing a tank top. I should be at the water park where I attempt to park my chaise lounger close enough to the water that I simply have to slide into the water without exposing my dimply, veiny legs. Full exposure of my legs has been known to instill horror in small children. This is ridiculous. And don't you dare throw this up in my face when I'm whining that I can't seem to get cool enough when the temperatures in August are pushing well beyond 100 and the humidity is 1000%. Summer here, Summer not