Thursday, May 26, 2005

Spring Break 2005 (part 10)

Since we had basically fucked off for the first 3 days of the trip, we needed to move our asses to get good use of our theme park passes. At least we got out of bed by 8am on ONE day. But today was NOT that day.

We decided to go to Universal & then to Islands of Adventure. Like the good mommy that I am, I made sure everyone peed before we left the hotel & reminded them to make sure they had whatever they needed for the day. I put some frozen water bottles in my fanny pack and off we went for the 20 minute ride to the parks.

Parking was a bitch. We ended up having to park WAAYYYY the hell out in the structure. As we are walking toward the park, I just happened to ask if everyone had their pass. Check, check, check, check and Tiva, who asked incredulously, "I was 'sposed to bring that ticket WITH me?"


You have to understand that as I am trying to keep a civil tongue with her, my HEAD has a whole lotta OTHER things going on in there.

Me, on the OUTside: "Yes, that is your five day pass." (on the INside, "YOU fucking moron!")

Tiva: "I dint know that. I don't have it with me."

Me on the OUTside: "Crap, I guess we'll have to go back to the hotel & get it." (on the INside, "YOU fucking MORon!")

Believe it or not, I am usually a pretty easygoing person. But when somebody obviously has their brain set on "assbag," I have a problem with them.

The other girls looked stricken. I didn't see the point in them having to pay for Tiva's mistake. I told them to go into the park and ride the coasters that Tiva was so deathly afraid of. I figured they could get 1 or 2 of them in before we got back in about an hour.

Tiva and I were the only ones with cellphones, so I had her give hers to the girls. We would call them when we got back to the park. Off we went to battle rush hour traffic.

I'd actually stayed pretty cool--what else could I do? I didn't really care about being in the park anyway, so it wasn't a big deal. I just wanted the girls to have a good time.

We got her pass and made it back to the park in an hour. I dialed Tiva's cellphone number. Huh, that was weird--I got an "out of service" message. Tried again. Same thing.

Tiva tried it. Nothing. Then a light bulb went off in her head. Man, I swear I could SEE it go "BLINK!" right out of her ear holes. And she got this surprised, bright-eyed look on her face, as if this was the first good idea she'd ever had in

"OHHHHHHH! They mussa shut off mah phone cuz I wennover mah minnits!"

Um, no Sherlock, that would be incorrect. First of all, you don't have a prepaid phone, you pay a bill every month (well, you are SUPPOSED to). Second, they are ECSTATIC if you go over your minutes because they can CHARGE YOU UP THE ASSSSS for the overage.

Whatever it was, we were FUCKED because we couldn't get in touch with the others. FUUCCCCKKKKK. I was beginning to think this whole "Take-Tiva-To-Orlando" thing was a mistake. Jesus H. Christ, she was like a jinx or a bad talisman or something. More like a really bad rash. I think I was allergic to her; I was breaking out in hives. I needed a drink. A BIG drink....and I am not a drinker. Shit.

We ended up wandering around the park for about 1/2 an hour and ran into them. We were all ready to eat dinner. But not all of us were ready to $hell out actual MONEY in order to eat. Gue$$ who?

Me, (on the OUTside): " Let's go eat at that restaurant we were talking about earlier." (on the INside, "I don't give a flying fuck if you ever eat again on this WHOOOOOOOLE trip.")

Everyone ordered, except for Tiva who spent the first 20 minutes using MY cellphone to call her mom about her cellphone dilemma. She also called 2 of her friends AND GAVE THEM MY CELL NUMBER, the dumbass! I snatched my phone out of her hand before she could call someone ELSE. What an ASSbag dumbass!

She got THREE calls.from the SAME girl.during our appetizers. All text messages. But I never handed my phone over for her to answer them. Fuck it, she could get the messages later.

We were all thoroughly enjoying our dinners, smacking our lips the whole time. Tiva was sitting there, looking sullen. I was getting soooo fucking tired of that look. If I could have gotten away with it, I think I would have wrapped her in a blankie & abandoned her at a local hospital, pretending she was a newborn.

Because she was such a tightwad, I did NOT want to share my dinner with her. So you KNOW it killed me that I couldn't finish my dinner and didn't want to haul a carry-out container around the park. DAMMIT.

"Tiva, would you like my ribs?" Before I'd gotten the question out of my mouth, she'd snatched my plate and had sucked the meat off of 3 bones. Not really, but it FELT that fast. You'd have thought she was a junkyard dog that hadn't eaten in WEEKS.

Everyone else followed suit & she ate everything that she was given. Spinach & artichoke dip with a spoon. French fries. Ribs. Steak. And she didn't offer to leave a tip.


Spring Break 2005 (part 9)

Clubbing at City Walk

One of the "adults only" clubs became a "teens only" club for the night. They only admitted ages 15-19. There were a lot of disappointed grown-ups that night. I wasn't one of them.

Of course, I had to occupy myself since there was no way for me to pass myself off as a teen. I just decided to people watch while sitting at an outdoor cafe.

It's amazing how unHAPPY people can be in a place that's SUPPOSED to be fun, on what is SUPPOSED to be a vacation. Lots of kids whining/crying and getting dragged around by the arm, or being yelled at, or being smacked. Damn, people! Lighten up!!

After 3 hrs of people watching, in the rain, I was "red-to-go." They just happened to wander out of the club, as if on cue, and shared the experience with me:

"Ewwwwww! Some dude dry-humped my ass!" said one.

"OMG, those people shoulda rented a ROOM!" said another

I didn't know if I wanted to hear more LOL

All in all, it was an OK experience for them but nothing to write home about. They really did NOT like having their asses rubbed by strangers. Gee, I don't know WHY lol.

Spring Break 2005 (part 8)

The first 3 days were the roughest. Without that fucking cellphone glued to her ear, she was like a fish out of water. But we gradually discovered that she could actually say more than "gurrrrrrllll," "HEY SHANAE!" and "MMmmMMMMM." Once she got rid of the cellphone, we realized that she could actually use more than 4 words in a sentence!!

Too bad the words she combined were TOTALLY fucking-assed ignorant. Oh well, we had picked our poison and were going to have to deal with it. I mean, how bad could it get?

We stayed up late and just talked about everything. We were talking about when the girls were babies & sharing some of the cute things they'd done. Tiva started chuckling and shaking her head like a crazy old lady in a rocking chair.

"My brother was a baby," chuckle, chuckle, shakehead, slapknee, shakehead, chuckle, chuckle. That was it. There was no other thought connected to that sentence.

One of the girls (the track star/pole vaulter) has had asthma since she was a baby. I remember her missing tons of school because she was always in the hospital. She'd even been life-flighted once.

Not to be topped, Tiva announced that she'd been in the hospital for a whole YEAR when she was little because she'd cut her hand. "Everytahm I moved it, the tendons 'n things would jess open up 'n fall out 'n stuff."

Being a nurse, I questioned this. "Did they really keep you in the hospital for a whole year for cutting your HAND?"

"Oh NOOOO," she laughed. "I had a head injury."

That explained a LOT.

Thank GOD we only had 4 more days of this.

Spring Break 2005 (part 7)

I need to back up here about the whole Tiva/money thing.

After our first trip planning meeting, I booked this trip (on MY credit card) back in September. It was a relatively cheap $398 per person. Everyone was cool with it (probably cuz it was on MY credit card). Everyone paid promptly. Except Tiva. She made her first payment in FEBRUARY. Did you know that there are 4 months in BETWEEN September and February? She gave me $300 at our final group meeting.

Tiva: "I'll have the rest later."
Me: :blinkblink:

The group discussed which amusement park tickets to buy & cost. It was decided that we'd get a 2 day park hopper for Disney since there were only a few things they wanted to do at the Disney parks & they could get them done in 2 days. I found an internet special for Universal--buy 2 days, get 3 days free for $99. I think the total for both was around $270. I ordered them & charged it to my credit card a couple of days before our trip.

Fast forward to Orlando.

Given our experience with Tiva and her money, I figured I'd better collect what she owed me before she ran out of cash. Our 2nd night there, I told her I was ready to settle the bill for the rest of her expenses. Bobble, bobble.

She handed me a money order for $98, and then started counting out her $270. As she handed it to me, she looked at me with wide eyes & said, "Dang...I only got SISTEE dollahs leff. WHAT we gonna do for da ressa da week?"

I just looked at her & said, "Guess you're gonna have to call your momma & have her wire you some money, aren't you?" as I folded it up and put it in my pocket.

I figured it was either THAT or she could eat all of her meals in the room. Good thing she LOVES "Raymond" noodles. And I heard those TBS movies are great!

Spring Break 2005 (part 6)

Considering that we didn't close our eyes until after 2AM, the chances were slim to none that we'd make it into any of the amusement parks before noon. Since this was the girls' Spring Break trip, I figured I'd let them set the pace. I had NO desire to be a commando and pushpushpush them this week.

We ended up just vegging, and then going grocery shopping. We knew that amusement park food & drinks were expensive so we decided to just "graze" our way through the parks & eat our more substantial meals elsewhere in Orlando. We bought loads of shit to eat. I think we covered all of the major food groups and THEN some lol.

I'd told everyone that we'd buy for the room but if there was anything special that they wanted for themselves, they'd have to pay for it. If 2 or more of us wanted it, then it came from the group grocery money. It was interesting how Tiva picked out all sorts of things--"Mmmmmm, those are SOOOO good!" or "THIS is GREAT!"--but didn't seem to want them when I asked, "Did you want to put this in your own personal-pay pile in the cart?"

When we came back from grocery shopping, it became clear why Tiva needed all that fucking luggage. Apparently her outfits could only handle being exposed to sunlight ONCE before needing to be changed. And did I mention that the same was true for her hairstyles?

I have absolutely NO problem if someone needs to change soiled clothing, or adjust for the weather. I DO have a problem if their obsession imposes on the REST of us. And it DID. Not only did outfit selection take 10 minutes, but re-doing her hair typically took over 1/2 an hour. And that was AFTER the curling iron got hot enough to use.

The rest of us just sat on the bed, looking at each other in silence. :blinkblink: We ended up watching parts of a bunch of movies. Did you know TBS has some great chick flicks?

It didn't matter that we told her that her outfit looked FINE. We told her that her HAIR looked fine. Obviously, we didn't know what the FUCK we were talking about because she'd re-do it all anyway. Did I mention that she packed FIFTEEN pairs of shoes? All of them kitten heels, and most of them some type of black sandal. WTF?

The assholes that we were, we allowed her to do this to us for almost 2 days. On the third day, we just walked out & started leaving her behind. She got the hint and severely cut back on her clothing/hair Jones.

The girls would go to pool and she would lag behind to fix herself up, complete with fresh makeup and kitten heels. I wanted to scream, "YOU ARE GOING INTO A FUCKING POOOOOOOOL!!! WHY DO YOU NEED FRESH MAKEUP??? AND WHAT'S UP WITH THE KITTEN HEELS?????" But I don't think she would have understood me. It was becoming painfully clear that we were definitely from different planets.

I told her that she needed to curtail her cellphone use to beginning of the day/end of the day-type calls because she was with US. I told her that she was being rude & inconsiderate. Bobble, bobble. We compromised. In addition to those times, she used her phone while on the toilet (yuck) and during her many trips up and down the stairway. Whatever. At least I wasn't on the other end, listening to her speckle the bowl. Again, didn't her momma teach her that it's rude to shit in someone elses ear? Whatever.

We went to IHOP for dinner & had the greatest.fucking.pancakes.ever. Believe it or not, they had cream of WHEAT in them! The food was pretty cheap, but guess who got wide-eyed at the prices AGAIN? "Dang, thoser some 'spensive sammiches." I made sure to ask for separate checks, or I'd end up paying her tax. FUUUUUUUUCK. I reminded everyone to drop a buck each for the tip.

After everyone had paid & gone to the car, I went back to the table to find she had NOT tipped. Again. I dropped an extra couple of bucks on the table. I realized that her lack of tipping was NOT a mistake, fluke or fuck-up. It was intentional. And that pissed me off even more.

I got into the car & decided to try a little subtlety. "There wasn't enough tip money left on the table." Each of the girls said, "I left a buck." Except Tiva, who just stared wide-eyed out the rear passenger seat window. I didn't know a human being could go without blinking for that long.


Spring Break 2005 (part 5)

The room was great. We had 2 queen beds and a full-sized sofa sleeper. There was ample walking/luggage room, and a kitchenette (without a stove). This was gonna work out just fine.

Except for that fucking cellphone. The 4 of us had a quick brainstorming session while she was dragging her ass up the stairs with all that luggage. What are we gonna do about that cellphone? She is going to have to mold to US. We are NOT going to mold to her. She has to get with it & become part of the group as we'd planned for months. This was gonna take some tough love. We huddled. Ready, HOO YAH! Break!

Tiva finally made it to the room and we all began unpacking. She decided to keep everything in her suitcases so she wouldn't need a drawer. The rest of us took the 4 drawers.

I had figured that we would all take turns on the sofa sleeper, since it would be unfair & it would totally suck if one person got stuck with it & the mattress was shitty. Tiva decided upfront that she wanted the sofa sleeper. Except she didn't know that it actually had a mattress. She was just going to sleep on the couch cushions. I showed her how it worked. She was amazed. And it was comfortable. She was happy, and so were we.

Her most common response to things during this trip was, "Dang! Really?MmmHmm "

She went into the bathroom & the girls leaped into action. They took the battery out of her phone & unplugged her charger. As soon as Tiva came out of the john, she noticed her phone light wasn't on. She requested (and was denied) her battery. She plugged the charger in. Damn, we'd been foiled. We're gonna have to be a bit more bold next time.

It was midnight and she was still taking calls. I told her to shut it off for the night & not to turn it on until after 9am. She did as she was told. I was pissed that I even HAD to tell her. Again, stupid? Retarded? A stupid retard perhaps?

This was going to be a long fucking week unless we could de-program her QUICKLY.


Spring Break 2005 (part 4)

We finally get the fuck out of the airport and are desperately searching for fast-food. There is a McDonald's right across the street from our hotel---YESSSSSSSSSS!

I figure that since burgers are cheap, I'll get everyone 2 of them. As I pull in, I ask, "Who wants cheeseburgers, and who wants hamburgers?" Everyone blurts out their preference. Except Tiva who says, "I want a large chicken strip meal," and points her attention back to her cellphone.

First of all, given the tightwad pattern that has emerged, I knew goddamn well SHE wasn't planning on paying for it. I ain't her momma, and I ain't a fucking ATM machine. Nowhere in ANY of our trip planning meetings did I volunteer to foot the bill, even if I AM the adult. Secondly, chicken wasn't one of the fucking CHOICES now, was it?? At this point my desire to be tactful was SOOOO past gone. I said, "Then you'll just have to hand me some chicken strip meal MONEY now, won't you?"

This whole time I was mentally thinking: 89cents x 2 vs 6.00, is she out of her fucking mind? She can't POSSIBLY be this stupid. Or is she just retarded & her parents have kept it hidden from me for all these years? Either way, I was like HELLLLLOOOO!!! WTF?

I was amazed at how fast she said, "Oh, I'll have a plain cheeseburger with nuthin' on it." That's more like it. I ordered a few extra of each, just in case.

We checked into the hotel and everyone gets into the elevator. Except Tiva, who now has to lug all that luggage up 5 flights of stairs. She is STILL/AGAIN on the phone. We were already so sick of her shit, that none of us offered to put her luggage into the elevator so she could just meet us upstairs. Fuck it. We wanted her to realize that stupidity has consequences. We weren't about to even pull them into or off of the elevator. Fuck it.

I figured she just viewed us as a ride to Florida and nothing more. She certainly had no interest in actually INTERACTING with us. We'll see you in the morning, when you've finally dragged your ass and all of that shit up the stairs.

Spring Break 2005 (part 3)

For some reason, it looked like Tiva actually had more luggage than she'd brought to our house, but that was an optical illusion. The luggage was just more unwieldy at the airport. You have to picture it: this average-sized girl trying to lug 2 HUGE, I mean HUUUUUUGE-ASS, suitcases, a carry-on and a purse with a long strap. The purse strap kept slipping off her shoulder, making her stop every 3 feet or so to fix it. She'd then pick up everything & try to walk again. I suggested that she put the strap on the opposite shoulder so it would stay put. Bobble, bobble. Did I mention that she was wearing kitten heels?

In the meantime, we were all whispering amongst ourselves, "There is NO WAY that we are carrying ANY of her bags for her." I actually said "fucking bags." The girls were more restrained than I.

I encouraged Tiva to get one of those luggage carts. She thought it was a great idea until she got close enough to realize that it would cost her $2.00. She decided to carry her luggage herself. For TWO DOLLARS!! TWO FUCKING DOLLARS!!!! How cheap can you get? Oh, and did I mention that she is afraid of elevators?

She refused to get into any elevator. We needed to go down one level to get to our rental car van. Ummm, let's see: Won't. Use. Elevators. Shitload. Of. Luggage. Wearing. Kitten. Heels. Hmmmm, hilarity is sure to ensue. Having taken the elevator & left her behind, we all stood at the bottom of the escalator, awaiting her big moment.

She does not disappoint us. She was ACTUALLY going to attempt to take ALL OF HER LUGGAGE onto the escalator at once. Did I mention she was wearing kitten heels? We are all just DYING inside & trying our best not to laugh out loud. I have never seen so many facial contortions in my life. I nearly pissed myself, but tried to look like the concerned chaperone I was supposed to be.

I was beginning to wonder why she was allowed out in public without supervision. Oh, wait. I WAS her supervision. FUUUUUUUCKKKKK. This could be a lonnnng trip.

Sympathetic to her plight (but NOT sympathetic enough to carry any of her luggage), I holler up to her: "Try bringing ONE big bag down at a time & make a second trip for the other one!" Bobble, bobble. Good girl. We have success.

The one good thing about her bringing all that luggage is that she couldn't use her cellphone since her hands were full. Good GOD, what sweet relief!

We had to take a van to an off-site car rental place. I figure now is a good time to teach the girls Tipping 101. A buck a bag for the roundtrip if the van driver takes it out of your hands. You don't tip for anything that you hold onto. We all give up our bags & everyone tips him when he takes them off the van at the rental place.

Except for Tiva. Not one dollar, not one quarter, not even a fucking dime. Did I mention that all of her luggage combined weighed more than a small adult? And that this nice old man had to lift all of her shit onto & off of the van--something like 3 feet off the ground?? And she didn't even THANK him, let alone tip him? I was seething as I slipped him a few more bucks & warmly thanked him. Seems like it was gonna take a SpEd class in tipping, since Tipping 101 was obviously wayyyy too advanced for her. Either that, or I was gonna have to kick her ass. I hadn't decided yet.

I'll spare you the boring story of our rental car mix-up. Ultimately we ended up with our Ford Taurus, as I'd requested. In between, there were 2 more escalator episodes, and by now we were getting cranky with. Those fucking kitten heels were definitely slowing us down. It was 11PM and we were tired, hungry as hell and ready to get to the hotel.

Clickityclickityclickity went the kitten heels as we headed to the car. Hmmm. Did I mention that we had LIMITED TRUNK SPACE IN THE RENTAL CAR? Of course, since her suitcases were the biggest, they went into the trunk first. Uh-oh. Gee, I wonder why we still had 2 suitcases that won't fit? Oh, I remember! It's because we had LIMITED TRUNK SPACE IN THE RENTAL CAR!

I couldn't hold it in any longer. "Just WHAT fucking part of 'ONE suitcase and ONE carry-on' didn't you understand?" She looked at me with a blank expression and wide eyes. I then told her that since she was the reason that the rest of the suitcases didn't fit, she'd have to put them on her lap for the ride to the hotel. Bobble bobble. And she didn't say another thing during the ride.

Until we got to McDonald's.

Spring break 2005 (part 2)

The flight to Charlotte NC was uneventful. We were all hungry, so we stopped at the California Pizza Kitchen in the terminal. We had 45 minutes to relax. Perfect. We all ordered pizza, except for Tiva. She took one look at the prices ("hooooo-eeeee! EIGHT DOLLAS for some PIZZA???Psssssshhhhh") and whipped out her cellphone.

Now, I need to tell you about Tiva and her cellphone. I was convinced that she'd had it surgically implanted to her ear, for she made not 1 or 2 calls here & there. I think she actually used her entire 1000 minute plan during this trip.

It started on the way from our house to Metro Airport. While everyone else is excitedly talking about the trip & practically singing "Ninety-nine Bottles Of Beer on the Wall," Tiva has her cellphone in one ear, her finger sticking in the other to block us out, and is loudly yelling, "Hay, gurllllll! Whattup??? I'm on the way to the airport! WHAT?? THE AYER-PORT!"

My husband hadn't even closed the doors to the van yet. Fuck.

"Orlando! ORRRR-LAAAAAAAN-DOH, gurllll!! Yea! For Spring Break. SPRING BRAYKE!!! Ooooo gurrrrrlllll! MM-MMM-MMMM!" This goes on for the entire 20+ minute ride to the airport. Fuuuuuck.

She talked from the time she got out of the van, through the check-in process and until she had to turn it off in the plane. She made calls as soon as we landed in Charlotte. She talked on the WAY to the bathroom She talked through her flush and then all the way to the restaurant. She talked while we were eating our pizza. I don't even remember if she washed her hands. Ugh.

I have to believe that most intelligent people would take the time to talk to the ones WITH WHOM THEY ARE TRAVELING. It appears that I was either wrong or she isn't an intell..... Let's just say that I am not wrong here.

The pizza was great--just what we needed since we hadn't had time to eat at Metro, which was our original plan. We are all jabbering away, in between sloppy bites of pizza. Tiva has been staring at our pizzas the whole time. Not looking at US, just looking at the pizzas.

She looks around, bored. She whips out her hairbrush and begins to vigorously brush her lonnnnnnnng, thick hair. Other diners visibly recoil, as do we. Didn't her momma teach her? Shit, didn't EVERYBODY'S damn momma teach them this rule??

"DON'T do that in HERE," I practically hiss/yell. She sheepishly puts the brush away, stares out the window at the tarmac and makes another call.

"Oooooh gurrrrlllll! Eight dollas fo some pizza!MmmmHmmm. EIGHT DOLLAS!! Look good, tho. MmmmHmmm. Gonna get some. MmmmHmmm. I'll holla atcha layda." She succumbs to the sounds of our smacking lips & orders a pizza.

On the way out of the restaurant, my daughter, Lauren, goes into a silent panic-OMG-moment. She has spotted NASCAR driver Tim Fedewa sitting behind us. The girls eventually approach him and he poses for a picture with them, and autographs a picture for Lauren. It was a cool moment. But, again, I digress.

We boarded the plane and Tiva stayed on the phone until the doors to the plane were closed & a flight attendent gave her the Evil Eye. I swear I could hear her whimpers of withdrawal, and see her trembling. That girl has a Jones that just won't quit. She got it BAAAAAD. If we had only known...

We had the most fun in Baggage Claim.

Adventures in Spring Break 2005, Orlando (part 1)

GIRLS GONE WILD!!!! Naw, that was just the MOMMA hehehe. I don't think I have EVER said "FUUUUUUCK" as much in one week. If I'd put a quarter in the Swear Jar, I could have upgraded to First Class my flight home. FUUUCK

Let me first say that WE HAD A BLAST. We laughed, we vegged, we talked, and we definitely rolled our eyes a LOT due to one of our group members, whom I will call "T," per her request. Even doe we ain' in duh club, k? On second thought, I will call her Tiva, cuz "T" was a DIVA. She is the basis for this post. Her cellphone was an issue, but I will discuss this in part 2).

I just about had a heart attack when she showed up at our house with not ONE, but TWO large suitcases PLUS a carry-on. For a 7 day trip. To ORLANDO. Where we were most likely gonna be in the amusement parks all day, and somewhere else at night. Let's see, that should be about 7 daytime outfits & 7 night-time outfits (give or take a couple for bed-wetting incidents), wouldn't you think? We discovered otherwise, but I digress.

The reason we'd set a baggage limit of 1 large/duffel-type bag and a carry-on was because of LIMITED TRUNK SPACE IN THE RENTAL CAR. At our trip planning meetings, Tiva & her momma nodded like bobbleheads when I asked if everyone was clear on that ONE rule. REPEAT AFTER ME: "WE HAVE LIMITED TRUNK SPACE IN THE RENTAL CAR." Understand? Bobble, bobble. Good.

So we stuff the van way beyond capacity in order to get to the airport. We get to the airport planning about 1.5 hrs to spare. SURPRISE! The airline changed the flight time (and flight number) and didn't think it was important enough to notify me. We now have just 20 minutes to get checked in and get our asses onto the plane. Shit.

Four of us checked our luggage without incident. Tiva was another story. She drags her luggage to the counter, and flings up bag #1, only getting it halfway onto the scale. She needs to give it a full-body push the rest of the way. Fifty pounds even. Phew!! That was close, or she might've had to pay the "oversized luggage fee."

She can't even lift bag #2 up onto the scale. Our track star/pole vaulter pushed her out of the way & easily flung it onto the scale. Uh-oh! Looks like Tiva packed a shitload of bricks in that bag. DING DING DING!!! Seventy-five pounds! We have a WINNAH! Shit. On a stick.

The clerk tells her she needs to pay the $25 fee. Tiva wonders what she is getting for this extra $25. She stares at the clerk, wide-eyed. Then blinks once. Twice. Slowly shakes her head as she grumbles, digs through her carry-on, then through her purse. She purses her lips with "attitude" & with a little head shake and a "mm-mm-MM" hands over the cash to the clerk. Remember, we have 20 minutes until our flight leaves. They are boarding. We are on the other side of the airport. I am fat and cannot run like I used to. Plus, it is Easter weekend & we haven't even gotten to the security checkpoint yet. Shit. On a stick. With sprinkles on it.

Needless to say, I am One. Pissed. Off. Momma. Dis ain' NO way to be startin my bay cayshun.

Surprisingly, we make it through security relatively quickly. Nobody gets cavity searched, or even wanded. Yay. We haul ass to the farthest fucking terminal at Metro Airport's Smith (which should be called "Shit") Terminal. The boarding area is totally clear of people & we manage to be the last people on the plane.

Being a fat girl, I HATE being the last person on the plane. Especially when I have a middle seat. Nobody ELSE wants the fat girl to be the last person on the plane either. Especially when they thought the middle seat would stay empty for this leg of the flight.

When I sat down between 2 younger guys (who had a look of sheer terror on their faces as I approached--I KNOW this look, I have had it myself), I promised them that I wouldn't spill into their spaces and that if I fell asleep, I wouldn't lean on them & drool. That seemed to break the ice, as they chuckled nervously.

Ive been thinking...

and don't bother with the "Oh, I THOUGHT I smelled smoke in here" comments. I was reading about naked Barbie dolls on someone's blog & it got me thinking about my own Barbie dolls.

In the old days, Barbie was made of some pretty rigid plastic. I remember when her perpetually high-heel-shaped feet would tear into my leg as I would valiantly struggle to dress her. I could NEVER seem to make those tiny clothes come down over her boobs. There was never any "give" to any of the tiny tops. So what was a little 6 year old girl to do?

I took her outside and proceeded to grind her boobs to stumps on the driveway. Did you know that when you grind Barbie's tits on concrete, you end up with HOLES on her chest instead of simply flat boobs like I'd planned? Oh well, she was my UGLY Barbie anyway, the one with the fuzzy white 'fro whom I ALWAYS made the evil grandmother of my OTHER (read: prettier) Barbies. At least her clothing now fit!

Flash forward about 30 years. I end up with breast cancer. BOTH boobs have to go, although not the "death by concrete driveway" method, although it probably would have FELT the same LOL.

Huh, now neither Barbie nor I have nipples. And MY tops fit WORSE. Sigh. Do you think it was bad karma? Either way, I am just damn glad that I never tried to make her anatomically correct "down there."

I love my job....REALLY!

Really. I do. I am very caring with my patients and treat them as family. I'd better clarify that: family that I LIKE. I work the night shift as an RN. I never know whether it should be "as a RN," like everyone reads that automatically as Registered Nurse, or "as an RN," since that is how I SAY it... Anyway, I digress.I work on a Mother/Baby unit. For those of you unfamiliar with the whole birthin' babies thing, it is the unit where moms & their babies come AFTER they deliver.

Yes, it's fun. Yes, the babies are cute. At least that's what we tell the proud family to their FACES. There are some UGLY little fucks out there. Yes, it's the best place to work yada yada yada. Some patients (but mostly family members) try my patience, like the really needy ones, overbearing (read: obnoxious) dads, those who feel they're entitled to SOMEthing, those who read too many books & don't want to listen to what REALLY works. Until they "hit the wall."

Hitting the wall is very common in new moms, especially first-timers. It isn't pretty. Usually caused by reading too many babycare books while pregnant, having a 40 hour labor, and refusing all help from the nurses while her husband snores his fat ass off on the rollaway, it hits between postpartum days 2 and 3.

Dad is adamant that the baby "room in" with them 24/7. But HE gets to leave for fast-food runs (that take 2 hours), or he watches sports in the family lounge when his fat ass isn't sleeping in the rollaway. Who diapers the baby? Momma does. Who feeds the baby? Momma does because she is breastfeeding & we all know that HIS don't work, sosorryhoneytoobadbuticanthelpuntilyouwe

Too bad Momma's don't quite work yet either, since Junior is starving & won't let her take him off the breast for more than 10 minutes before he starts screaming again. But no pacifiers or formula for HIS boy, by God! The books say they're evil!

Momma's eyes are bloodshot & bugged out of her head, her hair hasn't seen a comb since before delivery. She tries to walk with an ice pack between her legs that is the size of a log. She is always on the verge of tears--I can SEE them welling up--but she says she is fine. Or worse yet, DADDY says she's fine & I'm dismissed. Daddy then closes his eyes & covers his head so that the light in the room won't disturb him while his wife frantically tries to read & soothe this new thing that has emerged from her womb. The product of THEIR loins. Together. This is a partnership, you assbag!

A brief rant on rooming in: Dad, if you have NO fucking intention of helping your wife with the CARE OF YOUR CHILD, why don't you just GO THE FUCK HOME?? You would be much more comfortable, your wife could RELAX and allow us to work as a team to solve typical new mommy/baby issues, and I wouldn't have to suffer your horrendous foot odor. Do us all a favor--LEAVE YOUR SHOES ON. IF you take them off, PILE A BLANKET OVER THEM to muffle the smell. Your whole fucking room reeks when I open the door to enter. No wonder your wife is weeping and has nausea & your baby is screaming!! Look! Junior's eyes are bleeding!!!

Most people think that patients SLEEP during the night. Not on MY unit. Babies need to eat 24/7. During the day & evening, there are TONS of visitors. This means that most of the RNs on those 2 shifts really can't do much of the necessary teaching. Once the visitors go home, Mom officially hits the wall.

Breastfeeding isn't going well, so I spend anywhere from 20-45 minutes trying to get little Junior latched onto momma's boob. Junior is screaming his head off for all sorts of reasons:

1. he has just "moved" from a nice warm "jacuzzi" in which he was fed through a "tube." Now, he has to WORK for his food, and he doesn't yet know how.

2. People are now touching him, making him wear clothing, and the temperature is SOOOO different from what he was used to.

3. And JESUS H. CHRIST what ARE those things that keep waving around & hitting me in the head???? Oh wait, those are my HANDS.

What parents say: "I diapered him, but he leaked through."

My translation: You put the HUGE diaper on, but didn't quite get it over the crack of his LITTLE ass so when he was lying on his back, the pee and black roadtar-like shit went all the way up his back & subsequently, all over his clothing & bedding.

How.does.this.happen? I could understand if it was a SMALL diaper on a BIG butt. But this is a HUGE-ASS diaper, to cover a SMALL butt. There shouldn't BE any exposed butt-parts to leak shit all over. Jesus. Fucking common sense, people. And to think, you both have engineering degrees.

This seems to happen mostly with the boys. Parents are afraid of damaging Junior's nads, so they diaper from the knees on up. In addition to not even covering his buttocks, this leaves a huge space between the inside of the diaper and the butt & nads. This means the diaper doesn't absorb as well, since there are more places to leak. Junior also has never felt himself pee or shit, so this new sensation on his skin ALSO causes the aforementioned screaming.

Cleaning Junior's diaper area makes most men weak in the knees & queasy. I have to explain that little boys are like squirrels, they like to hide things behind their sacks. Then I use my fingers to pick up the skin of Junior's sack and Dad subconsciously grabs his own crotch. I manipulate the skin to show them both that THIS DOES NOT HURT JUNIOR. See? I am NOT grabbing his NADS, only the SKIN. Look how well he tolerates it. And LOOK how much dried on shit YOU left behind because you didn't want to touch Junior's sack. What do you think is more uncomfortable for Junior--lifting the sac, or scrubbing for 3 days with a rough washcloth to get all that dried shit off of him? No wonder his little ass is red. He should pee in your face for that.

Back to momma.

She is convinced that Junior hates her because he won't latch. "Do you think this is breast rejection?" she asks, having read 1 too many breastfeeding books. I can only tell her that her HUSBAND hates her, since he won't wake up and help her. Just kidding, I never say that. I just make sure to let out a silent fart in his sleeping face as I contort myself between their beds to position the baby. Heheheh. Now THAT I HAVE done hehehe. It's a win-win situation: he's asleep, so it's like blaming it on the dog.

Eventually, our team effort is successful. Junior latches, the diapering gets better and Momma is feeling more confident before she goes home. I wake dad up to tell him what HIS jobs are: when SHE is feeding Junior, HIS job is to feed HER. He is also responsible for diapering the baby before HE brings Junior to her for breastfeeding. He then must position the pillows to make Momma comfy. I show him how to tell if the baby is latched well, since Momma can't always see from her angle. I don't let him get away with being a guest in our hotel--I make him work for his keep.

Even if I can't stand the smell of his feet for one.more.minute

Wednesday, May 25, 2005

my surreal cat-astrophe

Oh my FRIGGIN GAWD!!!!!!!!

We have 5 playful cats. As I was sitting at my computer, I heard the "rustlerustle" of a kitty poking her head into a plastic grocery sack, as my girls often do. Sometimes they go "hunting" and pull out a packaged food item or a piece of fresh fruit. But not today.

Luna, otherwise known as "Chicken Cat," is playful but somewhat skittish. I knew she was "in the bag" because all of the others were in my sight. "Boy," I thought, "she is really enjoying that bag!"

Wrong. She HAD been enjoying that bag, until she tried to get out of it and ended up somehow sticking her head through one of the "handles."

She began to tear-ass around the family room, RUSTLERUSTLEZOOOOOOOM! Into the Foyer, RUSTLERUSTLEZOOOOOOOM!!! Into the living room, RUSTLERUSTLEZOOOOOOOM!!!!! Back into the family room & then throughout the kitchen RUSTLERUSTLEZOOOOOOOM went the Chicken Cat.

You have to picture this: her entire ass-end is IN THE BAG. Her head is sticking THROUGH A HOLE. You can only see her head and her front legs. She looked like a reindeer on Christmas Eve, except that she was mowing down all of the OTHER reindeer (Meep, Callie, Cleo and Boots) in her quest to rid herself of the bag.

She didn't have a clue as to what was going on. The OTHER reindeer didn't have a clue either. Do you know how an aquarium full of fish scatters when something frightens them, and they all bang into each other AND the tank? That was the scene that played out.

Cats were running one way, then Chicken Cat would reverse & run right into them, causing them to all follow her until she reached a wall & repeated ad infinitum.

I finally was able to step into her path, letting her nail me in the shin as I tried to release the bag's death grip. She barely broke stride as I got the bag off of her.

Oh, did I mention that Chicken Cat got so frightened that she pissed in the bag as she was running? Did you know that a cat in a urine-filled bag, racing at cheetah speeds through a house can shower urine like nobody's business?? I could just SMELL the fear in her as I ran with the bag toward the trash. And Chicken Cat justa kepp onnnn runnin.


Did I mention that her most favorite hiding place in the whole wide world is under my bed? And that she now REEKED of "fear urine?" I couldn't coax her dumbass out from under the bed & she was too far in for me to grab a piss-soaked leg or tail. Oh my God, the SMELL. By the way, she'd also worked herself up into a raging puke as well.


I had to leave Chicken Cat alone for awhile to settle herself down. All of the other reindeer were slinking around the house, hackles up, tails POOFED to the max and doing that open-mouthed thing they do when they are sniffing deeply. They wanted nothing to do with me, or each other.

I then went around the house to assess the damage. CHA-CHING! Piss on the hardwood foyer floor...which led to the closet door, ... which led UP the closet door..which led to the throw rug.


I managed to clean as best I could & then set out to retrieve one Chicken Cat. She was sitting on the floor, just inside the bedroom door. I managed to get her to come near & then I whipped out a wet towel that had bacterial soap on it. I scrubbed her until she practically foamed. I didn't give TWO SHITS if she licked herself SICK. I just hope I got her cleaned up before she went up on my BED.


When we move into the new house, guess who's gonna be the first coyote snack??


My kids love me. Probably because I say "fuck" a lot.

I was pretty amazed that my daughter actually ASKED me to chaperone her senior trip to Florida with 3 of her friends. Her friends are actually HAPPY that I'm going. I am considered a "cool" mom. Again, probably because I say "fuck" a lot. I also think like them. It is so weird to look into the mirror & see a 44 year old face staring back at me when I still FEEL like I am in my early 20's.

I have the same fucking twisted sense of humor. I have the same sarcastic wit that caused me to forever be in trouble in high school. I have the life experience to backup the shit of which I speak. And, of course, I have the education to end sentences which phrases like "of which I speak."

I try to make things FUN wherever I go--I am always doing OUT THERE kinda shit. I am a great mimic & do great voices. I make up twisted songs about the ugly babies in the nursery. Or their mothers. Or their fathers. "Ohhhhhh, I see he got his DADDY eye!" hehehe

Even being a fat chick (which I am working to change...bah), I feel I am allowed, no, ENTITLED to pick on other fat people. Not to their faces, of course. But my humor tends to be more observational.

For instance, why is it that every dumb fuck with a cellphone starts trying to dial the goddamn thing as they are entering a freeway??? Why can't you MERGE first, you fucking merging-impaired ass-wipe, BEFORE you focus on the keypad? Do you think your family would rather hear you say, "Hey, what's up? I AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" (insert sound of twisting metal, crunching under the weight of a semi)

I would say that they are fucking retarded, except that would be an insult to retards everywhere.