June 30, 2005
Reason I love my husband #432
Below is a comment that my husband left on one of my posts this morning.
Well, I don't usually wear a thong..... unless it's Thong Thirstday - in which case I have to figure another way to carry my brew, 'cause listhping and prancing in a thong while carrying a brew is just so... uhhh.... is this TMI?
I ask you? How can you not love a man like that?
Posted by Moogie at 08:37 AM | Comments (7)
June 29, 2005
Boy does my face feel red!
This lady posted an absolutely hysterical post about, well, um, just go read this post. You'll see.
Note to Key: Smiley faced underwear?
When I was about 7 months pregnant with Meelie No, and Chickie was 3, we took a trip to the grocery store. After I put her in the front of the shopping cart (and let me tell you, when you are a beached whale, that is no easy feat), she patted me on the chest with both hands. I don't know about you gals, but I was rather tender in the boob area for both pregnancies. I gently stopped her and said "be careful sweetie, Mommy's boobs are sore."
We headed over to the produce section to pick up some stuff for a salad. There was a drop-dead-OMG-hunk-of-a-man picking through the selection. He had to be in his early to mid-thirties.
Let me preface all of this by saying Chickie was seriously friendly. Never met a stranger she didn't like. Can you see where this is going? Nuff said.
We walked over to the lettuce and the conversation went something like this:
Chickie: Hi, how you doing?
Hunk: I'm doing great! How about you?
Chickie: Guess what?
Hunk: What?
Mom's mind: Heh...that's so cute. She is so friendly.
Chickie: My mom's boobs are sore.
I don't remember much of the conversation after that. I do remember we didn't have salad that night.
Now I'm passing the baton over to you. Can you think of a seriously embarassing moment in your life? Share it with us, either in the comments section, or on your own blog (be sure to send me a link if you do).
Posted by Moogie at 06:39 PM | Comments (8)
What's yours is mine?
I saw this over at Denny's place. I really hadn't planned on posting about it but couldn't resist.
On Monday June 27, Logan Darrow Clements, faxed a request to Chip Meany the code enforcement officer of the Towne of Weare, New Hampshire seeking to start the application process to build a hotel on 34 Cilley Hill Road. This is the present location of Mr. Souter's home.
MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!
Some more takes on it can be found here and here, the latter of which talks about thongs (TMI) and turning one's personal blog, into a porn blog. Hmmmm.
This is what all the hoopla is about.
The full article is here.
What's your take?
Posted by Moogie at 07:26 AM | Comments (4)
June 28, 2005
Do you ever ???
Do you ever drive along in your car and see something that is so outrageously perfect that you know you have to write about it on your blog? Do you ever spin the story around in your head, making sure you cover all of the finer points in minute detail?
Then get home, finish with all of your chores and things to do, and sit down at your computer. And then? The moment your rump hits the chair? The mind goes blank.
I am convinced that all of my brains are in my butt. This would explain alot of things.
It makes me afraid to blow my nose. What would I lose then?
Posted by Moogie at 07:15 PM | Comments (7)
June 27, 2005
Sand, surf and fun
I went to Venice Beach this weekend. Sans kids. Minus husband. Girls only. It ROCKED.
I've never done it before, but, like a habbitual crack addict, it left me wanting more. I plan to do it again. My girlfriend (she's the one who is taking care of my girls this summer) and two of her friends from childhood went. They've been going twice a year for the past ten years. I got invited. I was told I was welcome to come again. That feels nice.
The beach was beautiful. I've got a killer tan, with a bit of a sunburn. I feel great.
The water was this unbelievable, post-card looking blue green. The water is clear, enabling you to see where you put your feet. And the temperature? Like bath water. We searched for (via sand sifters) sharks teeth. I found quite a few, along with some cats paws and other tiny shells.
I happily endured sand getting into places it didn't belong. I went yard saling, and estate shopping. We hit quite a few Goodwills along the way. We ate. We drank. We danced to a live band at Sharkies...probably the only "happening" place in town.
I am relaxed, a bit tired from late nights, but fully restored. I'll try to post some pictures later on. I didn't have my camera, but one of the others did, so I'll put them up when I get them.
Good time, good friends. Nice.
Posted by Moogie at 08:39 PM | Comments (9)
June 23, 2005
A Poll: Girls vs. Boys
For those of you with children (or not), here’s a question. Which is easier to raise? A boy or a girl? Which of the two is more preferable? While I realize that all children lack any sign of detectable brain activity until well after puberty, I firmly believe there is a major difference.
For me personally, I feel girls are much easier. Ok, yes, they are moody. All right, all right, I fully comprehend that with them, everything is a major life-altering event. Yes, I understand that if you look cross-eyed at them, they will burst in to a hysterical plethora of uncontrollable weeping. I can now report that with my eldest child, the friend of the week has now whittled down to “friend of the hour.” Meow.
I’m the mother of two children, both female. Even though they have a tendency to remind me of Kathy Bates, in Misery (I’m your number one fan), I love them to death. Both have friends of the male persuasion. Chickie has one of them attached to her hip. But? They are just friends, because you know, “ewww, GOD MOM GET A CLUE. I don't LIKE him, like him.” I have so much to learn.
But I’m floundering. The boys? I cannot relate. They are all polite to me, but they seem to just bounce around. They teach my willing children delicate roses to belch, fart and scratch, loud enough and often enough to make a redneck proud. If you are reading this, and are married to me, you are not excluded. They give me presents, which include toads and spiders, and gleefully bring me their bounty of cockroaches, each vying for the spot of "which one of us has the bigger insect." They look at me expectantly when they hand me a shoebox, carefully filled with dirt and plants, and A.LITTLE.TINY.SNAKE. They lean up against me when I am cooking, hoping that I will let them taste “whatever is on the stove that smells so good because I haven not eaten in like, forever, because my parents don’t have any food, and can I spend the night?”
So, now that I've given you all the positive sides of both sexes, which one would you chose?
Posted by Moogie at 06:07 PM | Comments (17)
Insanity
Hat tip to Rob for this perfect quote.
Suddenly I wondered. How did I get into this? What am I doing here? How was it possible that a sane young woman like myself could merge so effortlessly into a situation that bizarre?
The answer came to me just as suddenly. I was not sane. I was a Southerner.
Yah think? That's my story, and I'm sticking to it!
Posted by Moogie at 08:32 AM | Comments (4)
June 21, 2005
How do you really feel?
Hat tip to Suzanne, over at Contemblogging. The questions are aimed at me, and how I feel about her. I want you to know that the rumors of our engagement are false, and I never told the reporters about the weekend in Costa Rica. They just found out about it somehow. I swear. We're just friends.
1. Who are you? My name is Moogie, Moogs for short.
2. Are we friends? I think so. Either that, or you feel sorry for me and are beeing truly nice.
3. When and how did we meet? When one of us wandered over to the other's blog. One click, and it was love at first site.
4. Do you have a crush on me? If no….why the hell not? It's more of an obsession. Although, since you and Chase have a restraining order out on me, I've been attending therapy to get over it. Now I just have impulses.
5. Do you read my blog regularily? Absolutely. If I don't, I get the shakes and start to sweat. My therapist calls in adoration withdrawl.
6. Give me a nickname and explain why you picked it. Mermaid. I don't know. It just fits.
7. Describe me in one word. Classy
8. What was your first impression? You were a woman with a wonderful sense of humor, and you have handled some of the tough things in your past life with courage. You love your little man, and Chase's children, and have a deep love for your husband Chase.
9. Do you still think that way about me now? Yes, only more so.
10. What reminds you of me? If I had to narrow it down, I would say sunshine. You are always happy and upbeat, and that's how a wonderful sunny day makes me feel.
11. If you could give me anything what would it be? My chldren. I would give you their clothes and toys too.
12. How well do you know me? Well, mostly through your blog and emails. Sometimes we vent to one another, and that feels good, and safe. You ground me, and get me level again when my temper threatens to explode.
13. When's the last time you saw me? I've not met you yet, but we are working on that.
14. Ever wanted to tell me something but couldn't? Yes, but our husband's read our blogs so I can't say it here.
15. Do you feel like your back in high school now? Yes. Shudder.
16. Are you going to put this on your blog and see what I say about you? I just did.
Now, go ahead and answer the questions in the comment section, and let me know how you really feel (and yes Suzanne, this means you too). Then, post it up on your blog as well. Don't forget to leave a link so everyone else can visit.
Posted by Moogie at 05:48 PM | Comments (6)
Cherokee Wisdom
One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people. "My son, the battle is between two wolves," the old Cherokee said. "One is Evil. It is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolance, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith." The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, "Which wolf wins?" The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."
Posted by Moogie at 03:27 PM | Comments (4)
Clueless
Colonel Mustard, in the library, with a knife.
And that's all I have to say about that.
Posted by Moogie at 09:01 AM | Comments (3)
June 19, 2005
God's Math
When I took the kids (mine and one of their friends) to the aquatic center on Friday, I overheard a conversation that I found somewhat interesting.
Meelie No: Two plus two is really 5.
Chickie: No it's not. It's 4.
Meelie No: No, it's 5. It's God's math.
Miss M: God's math?
Meelie No: Yes. One plus one is really 3.
Chickie: No it's not stupid. It's two.
Me: Watch the name calling back there Chickie.
Chickie: Mom, is there such a thing as God's math?
Me: Well, Chickie. I've never heard of it before, but who knows?
Meelie No: Chickie, aren't you afraid of making God mad? Jesus won't be your friend.
Miss M: God and Jesus are the same person.
Meelie No: No they're not. Jesus is God's son.
Miss M: Hides face in knees and begins to cry
Me: What's wrong Miss M?
Miss M: I got confused, that's all.
Me: Well, basically, Miss M. is pretty much right. You see, Christians believe in the Triune God. The father, son and holy spirit. God is the father, Jesus is the son, and the holy spirit is Jesus, after he rose from the dead.
All three in the back seat: Dead silence.
Meelie No: Well, three plus two is 6.
Miss M: Yeah
Chickie: Yep!
Well, who could argue with that? After all, it's God's math.
Posted by Moogie at 09:06 AM | Comments (5)
June 18, 2005
Please don't bogie that joint
My shift at work is known as a 9 X 80. I work four 9's, an 8, then four 9's and I get Friday off. When my kids are in school, it is a day that I can look forward to. Because I am alone. There is no noise. I can parade around the house in nothing but a pair of crotchless panties on my head if I desire (personally, I prefer Hanes, but that's for a different post).
In the summer? I lose that freedom. Yes, I could easily drop them off at my wonderful neighbor who takes care of them during the day, but I'm thinking that would look bad. Besides, have you ever looked at my children when they have puppy dog eyes? They have it down to a fine art.
This past Friday was not different, albeit we had another little friend with us. Meelie No and Miss M are fairly inseparable. It seemed a good idea. At the time.
Friday was spent at the aquactic park, complete with sun, food that screams "cardiac arrest", and of course, lots of water. When we came home, they decided they wanted to play with the hose. I mean, they of course did not have enough sunshine or water that day. They needed more.
Today we went to see Shark Boy and Lava Girl. I'd say the movie is seriously geared towards kids. I did enjoy the 3D effects. Plus I now have a pair of really cool glasses. What more could a mom ask for?
OWW was busy disassembling a recently purchased "Mosquito Deleto" because it had stopped functioning. He took it back today to get a replacement.
He then took Meelie No to the skating rink, and Chickie is off with her friends at another house. Later on, Chickie will be going to a slumber party. I'll be down to one kid. Well, two but OWW isn't prone to tantrums and dramatic behavior.
In spite of myself, I find that I really enjoyed the time with the girls. I didn't mention everything we did, just the hi-lites.
So those Fridays I lost for the summer? They just got better.
In fact, every day is better. I'm going to be alright.
Posted by Moogie at 04:45 PM | Comments (4)
June 17, 2005
An Ode to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star
We called you Twinkie for short. You were arguably one of the cutest beta fish we had. You certainly knew how to strut your stuff. When I came out to stand in front of the pass-through in the mornings, you were the first to wiggle your way to the top of the tank and strut your fins, doing the dance I loved so well. I guess you were performing for your morning feeding.
It was the same thing when I came home from work. The moment the car keys hit the bowl, you were the first one ready, as if you were saying "pick me, pick me!"
It won't be the same without you. Just three tanks now. The pass through seems empty. The girls want another fish, to bring the tank count up to four again. I'm not so sure I'm ready.
Goodbye Twinkie. May your life ever after be an ocean of happiness.
Click HERE for our Chez Moogie tribute to our beloved beta, Twinkie.
Posted by Moogie at 06:36 PM | Comments (5)
I have to disagree
My lovely, with child, friend, Miss Zoot has posted about sweet tea. Or in her case? Fake sweet tea.
And me? I like my tea dark and strong, like I like my men. What is it with this sweet tea stuff? We folks from the west never even heard of sweet tea. Sweet tea is for wimps. Heh.
I remember when I first came here. We went to dinner and I ordered iced tea. The waitress asked "sweet" or "unsweet?" I, being the long in tooth, short in brains transplanted Californian that I am, became immediately confused.
I replied "if I want any sugar, I'll just add it myself, thanks."
Ok, I know I'm in the south now, and drinking unsweet tea will surely land me in purgatory for an indeterminate amount of time, but come ON.
Unsweet tea. Is there really any other kind? Sweet tea indeed.
For the record, I still love Zoot and will respect her in the morning. I suspect that drinking sweet tea is due to a surge in hormones from her pregnancy.
What about you? Sweet tea or unsweet? Anything else served or called differently in the states, or other countries?
Posted by Moogie at 10:36 AM | Comments (10)
Secrets revealed
I met him at the Wrekyll Jekyll. I spoke with him face to face. I listened to his stories about work and life. And I never knew.
Some things should just never be made public.
Posted by Moogie at 10:12 AM | Comments (1)
Dusting away the cobwebs
Cough, cough...goodness it's dusty in here. You'd have thought this was an old abandoned blogroom or something. Where DID I put that broom? Ok, whilst I clean up this musty corner of the internet, my dear cyber sister has sent me a story to keep you occupied.
I'm thinking I don't want to get on her bad side.
And on another note, the number one gentleman of the blogosphere, WitNit, has "babewitted" me again. Sniff. In my current state of mind, that kind of thoughtful gesture makes me hunt for kleenex. Hah! Of course the only box I have here in my little space is empty. I'll have to go shopping to stock up.
So, without further ado...a wonderful post to fill in the empty spaces by the master of all things blog (and anything else).
Moogie is one of newfound Blog-Sistahs, the slightly older big sis who used to beat me up as a child. I know she loves me because no matter what I did to her, she has never let anyone else mess with me.
This is a story about my real-life sister; however, when Moogie is picking on me, I just imagine it was her on her first date. Enjoy!
According to my father, we were not allowed to date until we were twenty-eight. Why twenty-eight, I don't know.
Those were just the rules; however, there was one exception, at least for my older sister: Prom. More specifically, Senior Prom.
When my sister was a senior in high school, there was one really cute guy (Kelton) that she really liked and then there was this goober guy who really liked her. Comeaux (pronounced Como, as in Perry Como) was the goober.
Both guys ended up asking her out for prom.
Instead of saying "No" outright, my father "took it under advisement."
Then, for some stange reason, my father actually consulted me on what I thought of both guys.
I was a freshman in high school and my sister and I did not get along that well. In fact, there was very little love lost between us back then.
I was probably also jealous of her because no one was interested in me, so I told my father I thought Kelton ran with a rough crowd and had heard that Comeaux was probably gay.
He seemed pleased with that information and, not surprisingly, allowed my sister to accept the date with Comeaux. She was not happy, but at least she was allowed to go.
At this point, I'm sure there's a collective sigh in the blogworld as
everyone has now decided exactly where Wee One derives her miscreant ways, right? My father always told me it skips a generation and I stand by that.
Project on the horizon, my mother, of course, was in her element shopping for prom dresses and matching accessories.
After much preparation and planning, the evening of the gala finally arrived.
As my mother was busy dressing my sister, my father and I were in the living room taking down a rifle and cleaning it with good old Hoppe's gun solvent because, clumsy me, I managed to drop it in the mud early in the day. That was the first and only time that has ever happened to me.
When the doorbell rang at the appointed time, I gleefully jumped up to get it and greeted a grinning Comeaux. Before I introduced him to my father, I pulled him over to the side and explained my father was hard of hearing and that Comeaux was going to need to speak rather loudly to be heard. I further advised that my father was a bit sensitive about his hearing loss and for Comeaux not to mention it directly.
With that, I introduced Comeaux to my father and within moments they were practically yelling at one another.
Half-dressed, my sister heard the commotion and came to investigate. All she saw was a rifle in my father's hand (admittedly, it was only the barrel) as he stood to shout back at Comeaux who had been shouting at him.
In her haste to get between them, she failed to mind her dress which she stepped on and promptly tumbled down.
I guess I should mention, my sister was a rather well-endowed young lady.
When she sat up, the dress was pooled around her and the top of her corset was overflowing. After one look at her, Comeaux was rendered speechless.
Unable to contain the laughter rising within me, I had to leave the room.
From what I understand, my mother was able to finish dressing my sister and Comeaux was instructed to have my sister home by mid-night.
They returned by 11:oo p.m.
Posted by Moogie at 10:04 AM | Comments (4)
June 01, 2005
Tornado Watch
This post brought back allot of memories. I first arrived here permanently in mid-November. I'd made many a trip out here before I became a permanent employee.
In the wisdom of all things corporate (and those of you who are from SE Georgia will understand the whole distance thing), they put me up in Brunswick. For those of you not familiar with the area, it's about a 45-minute trek from where I work.
Be that as it may, it's extremely difficult to complain when your company pays for your living quarters, lock stock and barrel, and gives you per diem, but folks, it was a close call.
So, here I am, in a very nice furnished apartment, nestled in a gated community. I arrived on a Saturday which gave me time to get a feel for the place and stock up on food and other necessities before heading out for my first "real" day on the job. Life was good. I had not yet succumbed to homesickness and was enjoying the lovely, all encompassing solitude. No children. No husband. Just me. It was a wonderful weekend. I will say I got lost a couple of times, but then again, I’m directionally challenged so that shouldn’t be a surprise. Sunday evening came quicker than I was ready for. I got all of my stuff set out for the next day. I even made up a lunch.
5:00 am rolls around Monday morning and I didn't have a problem getting up. I was excited. It was an adventure to me. Yes, I know. Most likely I needed to get a life, and probably still do, but I was looking forward to it. I got ready, grabbed all my stuff, hopped in the car, and away I went. My one fatal mistake that morning was turning on the radio. My timing sucked because at this very moment, they were announcing a tornado watch.
For most of you residing on the east coast, this would be as common as changing your underwear every morning. But put yourself in my shoes folks. I'm a west coast city girl. I freely admit that. Can you even imagine what was going on in my mind? Oh dear God in heaven, should I turn around? What should I do? I panicked all the way into work, sure that the wrath of all that was sacred would pounce down upon me and it would be the end. I kid you not. If you would have been inside my head at that moment you most likely would have been laughing so hard. But again I stress. I'm a city girl. I come from earthquakes. You would that THOUGHT that would have made me a little more on the tough side.
By the time I arrived at work I was a nervous wreck. I had a cramp in my neck from scouring the skies for any sign of a funnel cloud. I have to give my co-workers credit. They all gave me a big hug and said something along the lines of "it happens all the time, you'll get used to it."
I did get used to it. I can look back and laugh at myself now. Completely and totally. What a naive creature I was. Now? When I hear there is a tornado watch? I worry about the satellite going out, or my DSL line going down.
You know what the good thing is? I still love thunder and lightening. I love the really loud storms. The wind bending the trees into an impossible angle. The trampoline doing a crab walk across the backyard. The smell of the air after a good storm. The toads making such a racket, I need to move inside to use the phone.
Give me that over any good day in California. Any time. Yes, a good summer day in California outweighs a good summer day in Georgia. The weather in California can’t be beat. But folks, it still doesn’t beat Georgia. At least not in my mind.
Just an old sweet song keeps Georgia on my mind.
Georgia, Georgia, a song of you
Comes as sweet and clear as moonlight through the pines.
Other arms reach out to me
Other eyes smile tenderly
Still in peaceful dreams I see
The road leads back to you.
Georgia, Georgia, no peace I find
Just an old sweet song keeps Georgia on my mind.
Melodies bring memories
That linger in my heart
Make me think of Georgia
Why did we ever part?
Some sweet day when blossoms fall
And all the world's a song
I'll go back to Georgia
'Cause that's where I belong.
Posted by Moogie at 06:29 PM | Comments (13)