What My Conscience Does to Me

When I laid down on my couch Thursday, i was all prepared to watch my favorite night of television.

Two hours later, I woke up thinking I was late for work. I panicked for a moment until I realized what was happening. Then I went straight back to sleep.

I didn't even know I was tired. It wasn't just a doze. It was an all-out deep sleep.

When I woke up after two more hours of snoring away, I decided it was time for some dinner. I made myself a grilled cheese sandwich on this "cracked wheat" sandwich bread I got at Dillons.

Even though it doesn't come from Target, the bread is really tasty!

I sent out a couple of emails and finished reading a book I had been putting off. I read some more about Chris Benoit and set up some bills to be paid. Then I decided it was time for bed.

On my way, I remembered that I had run out of soap during my morning shower, so I grabbed a new bottle. I opened the shower curtain. Then I was horrified.

It was hanging out in the corner of the tub. Just standing there under where I rest my foot once a year when I decide to shave my legs. A giant spider.

I almost puked.

Instead, I grabbed a glass. I trapped that sucker and moved him along the bathtub floor until he was close enough that I could see him well. Sure enough, there was a big fiddle on his back.

This time, instead of having a total mental breakdown, I went into torture mode. I turned on the faucet and watched the water creep up around the spider.

The spider was significantly larger than his cousin was a month ago. I had to make sure to get the water pretty deep. I didn't want him to be able to kick off the floor over to the side of the tub.

Ol' Spidey knew what was coming. He scrambled inside the glass, trying to get to higher ground.

"Much too late, my eight-legged friend!" I lifted the glass and watched Spidey try to swim. He lasted much longer than I thought he would. The cat and I waited until he curled up his legs.

I poked at him a few times to make sure he wasn't pretending to be dead. Then I pulled out the camera and started snapping. I even scooped him out of the water and shoved the camera right down into the glass with him.

I decided to cancel all my tentative weekend plans and clean. This weekend, my goal is to really clean this place. You all have great faith in me, right?

I called Jacque this morning and told her about my new dead pet.

"I think I've killed three in the past couple of days," she sympathized.

"Brown Recluses or just spiders?"

"Brown Recluses. I think. I'm not sure. They're always too smashed to tell."

I've heard that spiders were bad this year, but this is ridiculous! Especially now that the rain is forcing them indoors.

As I talked to Jacque, I glanced over and saw my Spidey was uncurled.

"That's weird," I thought. "Maybe it happened when he dried out."

I tapped on the glass. AND THE SPIDER RAN ROUND!!!

This is just great! Not only am I worried about Brown Recluse spiders infesting my home, now I've got a zombie spider!

The Hardest Part is Letting Go of Your Dreams

I just woke up from a four hour nap.

Do you think I can get back to sleep tonight?

I'm on a Plain

When I found the link for The Outhouse yesterday, I was horrified to realize I'm pretty sure I never knew about the history.

I always knew it as a bring-your-own-booze strip club. I had no idea the likes of Tool, Fishbone, GWAR, White Zombie, Primus and even Green Day had shows there.

I mean . . . Nirvana!!!

This is one of the rare occasions where I wish I was older.

Take a Look Around, Look What I Found

Now that you know about my "Johnny Phobia" you will understand why I think this is awesome:
MizzPee

Don't Misunderstand Me

I hate Porta-Potties.

I know, I know . . . who the hell likes them?

But I refuse to use them. I will hold it until I explode, rather than step into one of those disgusting, stinky hell-holes.

When I was in high school, our Country Club built a new clubhouse. So during my golf season that year, our team was stuck with a Johnny-on-the-Go.

On one particular day, I really had to go. I contemplated going in the bushes, but decided I couldn't trust the girls to let me have some peace. I decided to suck it up and go in the Johnny.

Surely it couldn't be that bad. It was kind of an off-season for golf; there couldn't be too many people filling it.

I held my breath and rushed to finish. I went to open the door and

it wouldn't open.

I WAS STUCK IN A PORTA-POTTY!

Really it was perhaps my worst nightmare. I began to panic. I felt the walls close in on me and just knew that somehow, my only way out was going to somehow end up with me slipping through . . . well . . . the big hole.

It took me what seemed like hours, but was really only a few seconds, to jimmy the door enough that I was able to burst forth out into the open, fresh air.

That sealed the deal. No. More. Porta-potties.

I talked to my dad this weekend and told him about my night at Club Rodeo. I tried to explain why I wasn't too excited about getting up close and personal with the bulls. "I figure, I've been to a rodeo before."

"Yeah and you wouldn't go in the outhouse!"

Apparently, even as a little kid, I knew Porta-Potties were death traps.

I have to admit, though, at first I was confused. I didn't realized he meant I wouldnt use the outhouse. I thought he meant I wouldn't go to the stripclub outside of Lawrence, The Outhouse.

Take a Look Around, Look What I Found

Best things I saw today:

I'm not sure this is the best thing to put out on the internet. Handy. But if the powers were harnessed by the dark side, stealing Michael's CDs might be that much easier.

I just discovered Sarah and think she's really funny. I can see myself in this post.

And the best for last

Little Miss Innocent Sugar Me

I don't do it very often, but I chatted with Jacque on the phone this evening.

Jacque called me up to tell me about her weird friend. Seriously, she has some mental friends!

She told me she had seen yesterday's post and told me how Chris couldn't watch it again because he took too long to recover after watching it once. Then we started rehashing Saturday night's events.

"What was that song we were all dancing to? I can't remember."

"Can't remember??? How can you not remember Pour Some Sugar On Me by Def Leppard???"

I could sense Jacque rolling her eyes. "Yeah. How could I? Anyway, I was telling Chris today that when we were dancing to that, I totally wanted to kick my foot up on his shoulder."

Could she sense my laughter building?

"Then he told me that he wanted to do his 'Crazy Dance' the whole time."

I don't really know what the "Crazy Dance" is, but it didn't really matter. I was already quaking with laughter.

"So here we both are, pretending to have fun dancing but concentrating on what we really wished we had the guts to do!"

"If you had pulled that move, I seriously would have sat on the floor and peed myself!"

I told you her friends were weird!

How I Was Wrapped Up in You

Thank you all so much for your concern, but I know you don't get rabies from a beer bottle in the foot.

On a related note, this is pretty much the same reaction Jacque had when Chris surprised her:

You're Doing Really Well My Dear

I just got home from a night out on the town with Jacque and I'm still trying to figure out what my favorite part of the night was.

I made Jacque go to Jill's wedding with me. Chris asked us to meet him at Club Rodeo later. Yes. That Club Rodeo.

At the same place I saw male strippers, I would now be watching real live bull riding.

I missed the turn off of Kellogg on the way out there. So I hit the next turn, hoping the access road would go all the way to the street I needed for the Club.

Alas, it did not. As I started to maneuver a three-point turn, Jacque had a better idea. "Look! People have made it work before!"

And it appeared as though they had. Drivers had gone around the road block into the grass and made their way onto the street just a few yards away. "You can do it!"

I looked at the giant ruts in the ground and the big water puddle. "If I get this car stuck, I'm going to kill you!"

I forged ahead and we cried "Go go go!"

And we made it! 'Twas not luck, my friends! Was mad skillz!

I don't drink beer. Never have and probably never will.

I just don't like it, no matter how hard I try. Going out would be so much easier and a whole lot cheaper if I could just get myself to enjoy a nice cold lager. I just can't do it.

So when we walked in, I ordered me a nice Black Russian. Imagine that.

We wat down at a table with Chris and his friends and I noticed my chair was all wobbly. "Maybe your chair is missing a foot." Jacque suggested.

But it appeared more that I was on some kind of hump. I didn't really mind. It made it easier to rock back and forth to the music.

Which was all country. Ugh.

The members of the party grew and Chris brought another table over. He sat it right on the hump.

So of course, I almost dumped the whole table over. "You watch! I'll spill something before the night is over!"

I just knew it would happen. Because, even though I'm like the only person in the world who doesn't drink beer, somehow I'm the only person of the night who ever ends up getting drenched in spilled beer.

I guess there was one time they played Def Leppard. And when the bullriding would start, they'd play that "Are You Ready for This?" song they play at football games.

Growing up in a rural community, I'd been to a few rodeos. So the bullriding wasn't all that exciting for me. Especially since often, the riders were bucked off right out of the gate.

You know. Like I could do better.

We did go up to see the second round close up. On our way back, Jacque grabbed another beer before joining me at our table.

We sat there for awhile before Chris and his crew showed back up. Jacque was turned to me when Chris walked up behind her. She turned around and was startled.

Now let me tell you about the way she reacted to being startled. She didn't just jump. She didn't even let out a little yelp.

Jacque threw her hands to her face and shrieked.

No. It wasn't even a shriek. It was more like a bloodcurdling, horror movie quality scream.

I think I laughed for five mintues.

I laughed so hard, I forgot about the wobbly table. I put my foot down and didn't even realize what I did until I felt the cold splash of beer upon me.

"See? I told you!!!"

I felt bad about spilling Jacque's beer, so I headed to the bar to get her another. She followed me, all the while telling me that I didn't need to buy her another one. "It was an accident!"

I gave her the beer and we started walking away. And then I felt a sharp pain in my foot. I reached down and felt something sticky. It wasn't beer.

I then felt the bottom of my flip flop and felt a big chunk of beer bottle. It was jabbing into my foot.

That right there. That was my favorite part of the night. The part where I got rabies!

I'm Hungry to Hear You

Several of you have written, not to volunteer, but to ask just what this is all about.

1. You would not, of course, be paid. Well, not with money, anyway. You would receive thanks and admiration from me. That should be payment enough, right? I'm poor, remember?

2. You wouldn't have full access to this site. I would take your writing by email. I may do a little editing, but promise I would keep it true to your voice. My editing would mostly involve some formatting and a spellcheck. As if I do a whole lot of this around here . . .

You won't be expected to submit anything on a regular basis. You can submit as often as you wish. I can't promise any regularity in how I post what you write. The timing will have a lot to do with how many submissions are sent.

I received Maggie Mason's book, No One Cares What You Had for Lunch: 100 Ideas For Your Blog. The title makes the subject of the book no surprise. But instead of using it to inspire myself, I'd like to have a list of "go-to" people that will write about the subjects for me.

For example, suggestion number three:

Give us something.
Tell your readers about the presents you'll remember forever.

I would email my "go to" people, asking them to write about that subject and then feature them here.

I know that other people have done this before. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't be entertained!

And really, it's all about me. I'm selfish like that.

But, as my Grandpa knows, I'm really bad at emailing. So I'll probably be much to lazy to actually email any suggestions!

Someone Who Will Be There 'Til the End

On Wednesday, I invited Raw to bring the girls to Wichita to hang out with Jacque and me. Because I'm rude like that.

Jacque didn't mind. She was excited to see the baby. Because you know how people are about babies!

Sophia and Evan didn't exatly hate each other. They just have different ideas on how to play.

Evan is the host with the most and wants to play with other kids. Sophia would rather have nothing to do with anyone when she's in her groove.

So there were a lot of scenes like the one pictured above.

After awhile, Evan got grumpy and decided he really didn't want Sophia to play with his toys at all if she couldn't share. Everytime she'd pick something up, he'd make a grab for it.

While I kept telling them it was okay to share, Sophia would get mad and push Evan away. Sometimes it would be more of a slap and now and then she'd pinch.

Therefore, Sophia spent some time in "Time Out."

Once, after being released from her corner, Raw continued to express her disbelief at how naughty she thought Sophia was being. "It's a good thing you have a sister, because if you act like this, you won't have any friends!"

Take a Look Around, Look What I Found

I'm pretty sure I need this alarm clock. If only to wake up feeling like MacGyver.

But Don't Think I'm a Wussie

I've never been big on babies.

Even when I was young, I always said I'd never have my own kids.

I did some babysitting and taught swimming lessons. And I liked some of the kids well enough. But with most of them, I didn't really know what to do or how to be.

And then there's the slimey, sticky, boogery aspect of kids. Gross! And the diapers. And the slobber.

I know you can't really tell by looking around this place, but I'm really not a baby person.

Which is why I'm surprised I like these babies so much. Could it be I'm not really as cold and heartless as I thought?

I will eat cookies Evan shares with me out of his sticky hands and laugh as he covers my clean jeans in sand.

This weekend, as I read to Sophia, I was overcome by a terrible stench. I almost couldn't believe a smell that powerful could come from a butt that tiny! And because of this change in me, I actually changed her diaper! You know, instead of waiting for Raw to come home.

I don't even get too grossed out when I lift The Boy over my face and the reservoir of saliva he's been holding back dumps out all over my face.

So with me not being a baby person, yet still somehow liking these poomongers, I thought surely I wasn't going to be able to like another baby. There was no more room for baby pictures here. No more room in my budget!

And then Sadie showed up.

Like my other poomongers, she makes me laugh. Especially when she's shooting poo across the room at Raw.

She's so much like Sophia when she was born. In fact, she was only one ounce lighter and half an inch shorter. It must've been the few extra days Sophia hung out in Raw's belly.

Sadie is different, though. Her hair is darker and her skin is redder. Casey says her ears are smaller.

She also has a more bloodcurdling scream. When she gets really mad, she sounds like a cat when someone is pulling on their tail.

She screams more, too. Because she was jaundiced, Sophia was hard to wake to eat. Sadie likes to be up all night.

Sophia is enthralled with her little sister. She always makes sure newcomers see Sadie. She points and says "Baby!" over and over until they acknowlege that "Yes. The baby."

She kisses her very gently and doesn't seem to be jealous. Yet. Sophia has only hit Sadie once. It was kind of a soft pat. I think it was just out of excitement. Or so she'd like us to think . . .

We didn't do a whole lot this weekend. We did a lot of playing with Sophia and trying to keep Sadie asleep at night.

Saturday night, Casey asked me if I wanted to do anything. But I felt like I was doing something. I felt kinda helpful and was enjyoing myself.

I guess maybe there is room.

But, dang people! Could you please slow it down!

When You're With Me I'm Smiling

Meet Little Lady Sadie!

You're Borrowin' My Cow Boots

I'm back from Lawrence and planned to write this big long post about all that happened.

But I'm tired. And cranky.

So instead, I spent the night sorting through all the spam in my email. Oh. And that email you sent me, I'm totally going to reply sometime.

I also spent some time catching up with some friends I hadn't talked to for a week or more. Some were planning big trips and others told me about their weekends. And their weird friends.

"She called me up and asked if they could come over for lunch. She said they were in the driveway so she'd take her time. I cleaned up a bit and kinda wondered if she'd be stopping to get us something, too."

There was a slow foreboding tone. I wondered what could go wrong with her friend bringing lunch.

"So what'd she bring?"

"Nothing."

"What? So she was just basically inviting herself over so you could fix lunch for them?"

Am I the only one who thinks that's weird?

Then I thought about all the awesome Mexican food Mary cooked this weekend. I didn't even ask if I could eat it.

In fact, Raw and Casey didn't even invite me up this weekend. I just shoved my way in, took over the couch and dished up a plate!

What a jerkface!

And They All Play the Same Silly Games

I heard that Apple had released a beta version of Safari for Windows.

For some reason, I've been wanting a Mac. Specifically a MacBook Pro. Why? I really have no idea.

Maybe it's because they're so sleek and shiny. Maybe because I believe having a Mac would magically make my website beautiful. Maybe I'm just a sucker.

In any case, I've been hoping some fortune would bring me a brand new laptop.

So I figured with this release, I could get a taste of what I'd be in for with a Mac, since about 85% of my time is spent browsing the internet.

Ugh. It doesn't seem to be any faster than the various forms of Firefox that I've been using. Some of the navigation is funky. Perhaps some of this can be fixed if I monkey around with it.

But I just don't think I have the energy for monkeying. Worse than all this, though; Safari doesn't seem to work with my mouse. So I actually have to move my hand to go forward and back. Boo!

After downloading Safari, I decided to take a look at my site to see how it would look in Apple product. It seems that my collapsible posts don't work with Safari. When you click "Read More" there's nothing there.

I do want to apologize to all my regular readers on Macs. But I'm not monkeying around with the site, either. I'm too lazy.

I'm starting to think maybe I don't want a Mac, anymore. You know, like the cost hadn't already pretty much talked me out of it!

pation

The baby finally decided to come out today.

According to casey, it only took Raw a couple of pushes. "She wasn't even yelling or anything!"

I think maybe the baby was trying to get out fast. I'm pretty sure we scared her out last night.

I called Raw and instead of a pleasant "Hello!" I got a pleasant "No baby, yet."

She wasn't letting that stop her, though. Raw has always figured the busier she is, the more she'll shake the baby out.

"I took Sophia to the park. She got really mad because she didn't want to leave. She hit me!"

Of course, I laughed. But I was also concerned when I imagined her trying to carry a kicking and screaming Sophia around her pregnant belly. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah. But this baby is in weird places! I don't remember Sophia feeling like this."

At the same time I was feeling grossed out by the fact that she had a baby swimming around in there, I was yelling "Maybe she'll come out your butt! Ha ha! Butt Baby! I bet she'd really like the Butt Paste!"

I See You Shiver with Antici

Raw and Casey went on a date last weekend.

Not last weekend. But last last weekend. Like the weekend before last. Anyway.

She loves going to the movies. Casey, not so much. He really doesn't even enjoy sitting down to watch a DVD at home.

"I want to see Pirates of the Caribbean!"

Having just seen the movie, I knew this might be a bad idea. "Oh man. Don't go to that one. It's almost three hours long!"

"I know. That's why Casey doesn't want to see it.

I talked to Raw last night to see if she liked Pirates. "Did you see it?"

"No," she pouted. "We went to see Hot Fuzz. It was okay. My back started hurting, though."

"It's a good thing you didn't see Pirates, then! It's like double the run time of Fuzz!"

"Actually, my back started hurting at dinner. But I didn't tell Casey because I really wanted to see Pirates."

Did I mention Raw's due date was June 9? So she was a week from popping and thinking about sitting through a three hour film.

"I finally gave up and told Casey, 'My back really hurts so I don't think I should go see Pirates. But I don't want you to get out of it so I'm totally willing to suffer. But that's not a good reason to see a movie.'"

Oh that Raw! She's so rational!

We're now finishing up day three and still Sophie doesn't have a little sister. I don't think Raw's trying any of last year's suggestions.

I of course had to elbow my way into the festivities and planned a trip up there. I figured since her first baby was so late, surely Raw would pop on time. Or maybe even early! So I figured this weekend would be a good time for visiting.

Now I'm starting to think we may be looking into a schedule more like last year's which would mean I may be waiting around in the hospital again.

Or like Raw said, "You may be driving me to the hospital!"

Well Now You're Restless

My mother recently published a book. She signed a copy and gave it to me. But the first book went to Jackson.

"He gets everything!" I complained. "You like him more than me!"

My mother didn't respond.

"Why aren't you saying anything?"

"She gave me an exasperated look. "I don't like him more than you."

"That's right you don't! You like me more!"

Again she didn't respnd.

"You can't like him as much as me! He hasn't even been around as long and he's all drooly! He can't even talk!"

"Maybe that's why I like him so much!"

And then she laughed. A lot.

Light the Fuse and Start Eruptin'

I broke another car this weekend.

I was on my way back from Clay Center in The Silver Buick. I stopped in Abilene to get gas.

Turning back onto K-15, I started hearing a strange clunking noise. I thought maybe something was loose in the backseat.

I pulled over and shifted some stuff around, but everything seemed relatively secure. I hopped back into the car and continued.

The car was silent for quite some time. I hit a pretty big bump in the road and then "BANG!"

I checked all over the trunk and even jumped up and down on the car to see if the shocks or struts would pop.

I couldn't see anything wrong in the dark and couldn't replicate the sound. I thought the speaker was loose and banging around. Or maybe it was the giant baby seat box in the trunk.

The car was handling fine. There was no excessive bouncing after hitting bumps.

I made it back to Wichita and stopped by BJ's. He pulled out the flashlight and we could see a shaft we shouldn't have been able to see.

We headed over to Midas yesterday morning. They took a look and were rather horrified.

The shock was trying to shove its way into the body. Awesome.

I think I'm going to start my own demolition company.

Growing in a Hurry

The Boy is becoming quite the charmer. And thanks to Aunt Bee, he has his very first Transformers frisbee.

And Dad is way more into the him than he looks in this picture.