Things Are A' Changin!

Funny thing about being a blogger...after you do it for awhile, it becomes second-nature to share things that many would find too personal, particularly for (possibly) hundreds or thousands of strangers. 

With that being said, I'd like to apologize for my long absences from this blog lately.  I found it easier to say nothing than to try and find things to write about OTHER THAN the one thing I've been keeping to myself.

But, in the meantime, I wrote a poem. :) 

Laser vision's failing me
3 AM?  Time to pee!
Spend my days on the couch
Politely put...being a grouch

Takes four days for a decent poop
Too late now to fly the coop!
Everyone has their own "advice"
But I'm keeping my mouth shut...being nice.

Many more months to go
Now everyone will know
No more secrets, not even maybe...




Adam and I are HAVING A BABY!


And to think there are people who believe I wasted 4 years of Journalism school... :)

Attention All Scrapbookers!

Thanks to my friend Rebecca at Better Life Bags, I learned about one of the coolest things I've ever seen online. 
All you scrapbookers out there know how time consuming and frustrating it can be to spend hours and hours writing captions by hand (or trying to remember what was going on in a photo you took 2 months ago and now have to write a caption for!) for all your scrapbook pages; not to mention how annoying it is as a digital scrapbooker to be stuck with your good friends Arial and Times New Roman on every project, rather than your own handwriting.

Enter Darcy Baldwin, "fontographer" at Sweet Shoppe Designs.  This woman is amazing!  She can take your handwriting and turn it into your very own font.  You can use it in Word, Blogger, Photoshop, Creative Memories and more!  There are several options to choose from, including print and cursive! 

I have always had TERRIBLE handwriting, both print and cursive, and therefore have developed my own brand of handwriting that I call "printive."  I wasn't sure whether "printive" would translate into a print or cursive style font from Darcy, so I emailed her to ask.  Darcy is so easy to work with!  She was so sweet and even offered to look at a few sentences ahead of time that I wrote out and scanned in.  Talk about personal attention!  So many times online businesses don't want to work with customizing and individualizing, but that is definitely not the case here! 

You can go here to see a sample of what Rebecca sent in and got back for her handwriting-into-font.

This is what I sent in:

And this is what I got back:

Pretty cool huh?


Here's a close up, side-by-side view of my handwriting compared to my new font:



It's not too late to give this as a Christmas present to all your scrapbook-loving friends and family! 



Things That Make You Go Hmm...

If you've ever read my blog, you know that I am an animal lover, dog owner and absolute advocate for animals and their care and well-being.  If you read my previous blog regarding The Humane Society of The United States (HSUS), available here, then you also know that HSUS is not what they appear and that my animal advocacy does have its limits.  I will fight vigorously against any organization that promotes the spreading of lies and half-truths regarding animal agriculture. 

Something has been bothering me for a few years now, and with all the nasty weather we've had in the past few weeks (and no doubt more to come), I think now is the perfect time to bring it up.

There is a home on the main drag in Havana which houses a family who owns a yellow lab.  This lab, for reasons I will never understand, is locked in an outdoor chain link fenced kennel with a dog house TWENTY FOUR SEVEN.  I have driven past this home countless times; the dog is almost always in the kennel, alone.  This includes times when the family living there was outside, playing in the very yard where the kennel sits, with the dog sitting inside his cage home, behind the fence, watching them.  It makes me want to cry just remembering how sad that poor dog looked watching his family play and being unable to join in. 

This dog is out there in the spring, in the fall, in the blazing heat of summer (though I will say, he was not in his kennel one day when it was 93 degrees...but he was the day before and the day after when it was less than 5 degrees cooler), and in the dead of winter.  Granted, they did put straw bales around his dog house to help serve as a wind break and insulation, but still.  Doesn't anyone watch the news?  You can't leave pets outside in extreme weather!  If for some reason this dog cannot be trusted in the house, #1 why did you get it?  and #2. Put the dog in the garage! 

Before all my country friends blow up my comment section reminding me how their outside dogs have all been well-treated and loved, save your breath.  I know!  Believe it or not, I don't have a problem with outside dogs.  Not at all.  Some dogs are simply too big, too rowdy or too testy to be left indoors all the time.  Personally, I don't see the point in having a pet if you're going to lock it outdoors for the majority of its life, but that's just me.  It doesn't mean I think you are a bad person if you have outdoor pets. 

What I DO have a problem with are people who chain their dogs to trees, lock them up in kennels and never let them out, don't provide proper veterinary (or any other) care, don't let them in during periods of extreme heat or cold, etc.  These things are considered neglect in its most basic form, and also illegal, so it looks like I'm not the only one who has a problem with them. 

While I'm on the subject, here is another thing that boggles my mind:  people dumping their pets off at already overwhelmed and overflowing shelters, simply because they "cannot afford" their pets anymore.  WHAT?!  I understand that many people feel animals are not humans and therefore should not be afforded the same rights, but by the same token...would you drop off your baby at an orphanage because you lost your job?  No.  Pets are a responsibility, a big one, for years to come, and if you have even a shadow of a doubt that you might EVER have a problem affording or caring for a pet, DON'T GET A PET!  Duh.  I have a shadow of a doubt that even if I won the lottery, I wouldn't be able to afford or properly care for a Ferrari for the "life" of the car, so guess what?  I won't be buying one.  Dr. Phil is right:  Common sense just isn't common enough these days. 

If you lose your job, believe me, I know, it's a horrible feeling.  But don't dump your dog at PAWS or TAPS because you moved into an apartment that doesn't accept pets!  Find an apartment that accepts pets!  Find a friend or family member who will care for your pet at their home until you can get back on your feet.  At the very least, put an ad in the paper, online, at the vet's office, and find a good forever home for your pet.  That animal is your responsibility, not TAPS' and not PAWS'. 

I know I'm not the only one who's seen this lab in Havana.  I don't know what to do about it.  We don't have animal control, and as much as the dog's owners piss me off something fierce, I suspect that the dog is still better off there than in a shelter somewhere.  I suppose all that I can do is hope that I am serving as a reminder to my wonderful readers to take the time to really make sure your outside pets are cared for and safe during the winter. 

Santa Claus is Coming to Town

I began the countdown on facebook a few weeks ago, but it bears mentioning again:  Christmas is only 46 days away.  Let the holiday meltdowns begin.

Those of you who have read this blog...ever...know that I frequently get questions about what I "do all day," and how much I really enjoy not only the fact that people feel like it's OK to ask, but the hidden condescension behind the question. (AKA "Why don't you contribute to the household instead of sitting on your ass all day?"  I'm not stupid.  That's what people really want to know.) 

The truth is, I participate in several things which earn money on the side. (No, not THOSE things, pervs!)  I'm not saying this extra cash will have me rollin' on 24s any time soon, but it might buy a new set of tires! 

With that in mind, here are my holiday money saving/general extra money earning tips which I know come in handy this time of year.

#1.  Shop@Home 
One thing that surprised the hell out of me after I moved to the Ridge is how much online shopping became a necessity.  Let's face it, there's not much out here in the way of clothing, shoes...basically anything without camo or polyester somehow involved.  Before I moved, I honestly thought my desire to visit a "real city" would be so overwhelming that I would find myself driving to Peoria/Bloomington at least once a week.  Wrong.  Instead, I've found myself talking to my UPS driver at least once a week.

This is where Shop@Home comes in.  Here's a good example.  Next week, Gap is having another Give and Get 30% off sale.  Need Christmas presents and want to save even more money?  Sign up for a free shop@home account.  When you are ready to shop, go to their website, type in Gap, and you'll see that Gap purchases are now earning 4% cash back.  (The percentages change from day to day.)  That means whatever you spend, even if you end up returning it, you get 4% of the total purchase put back into your shop@home account.  Then, click on "Shop Now" and it will take you directly to gap.com, but it tracks the amt. you spend in order to give you the right amt. of cash back.  So now you've saved 30% PLUS the extra 4% rebate in cash. 
It may sound confusing, but it's not.  Every time you want to shop online, go to shop@home first, check to see if there are coupons or cash rebates.  They send you a check every month that you have more than $20 in rebates in your account.  For me, this has been every month for the last year.  I've earned almost $200 in rebate cash.  There are no tricks, no points, nothing.  If you think about it, living out here, you're going to shop online anyway, so you might as well save some extra money doing what you're already doing, right?  4% (or more) of your total Christmas spending=a lot of extra cash!  If 4% doesn't sound like a lot, remember that is actually a low percentage.  Last year, around this time, Apple had 10-12% cash back (that's over $20 if you're buying an iPod!) and several other stores like Nordstrom, Sephora, JC Penney, hell...even Staples, have had rebates in the double digits.  There are some companies that don't participate in Shop@Home (Crate and Barrel and Pottery Barn for example), but not many.

Want to sign up? Go here:  http://www.shopathome.com/?IAFCG=cu2PJsCLnqEMVMmvT8sF1Q

#2 Swagbucks
Another site that is basically the same principle as Shop@Home, but honestly, not as good.  They don't have as many stores available for rebates.  The only reason I use Swagbucks is on the off chance that Shop@Home doesn't have the store I'm looking for...but that hasn't happened yet.  Also, this site requires you to redeem "points" not cash back, which I think is a little more confusing.  To each their own.  My friend recently redeemed her points for a new bread maker, so it does work! 

Want to sign up?  Go here: http://www.swagbucks.com/refer/mangobtl487


 
Now we get to the money EARNING part.  Before I run through the gamut of money earning, I should disclose that these do take some time, depending on how many you involve yourself in.  Again, you're not going to get rich with these things.  In my book, extra money=extra shoes and makeup, so there's my motivation. 

Are you the kind of person who can't sit still?  The kind of person who feels like they need to be "doing something" when they're supposed to be relaxing and watching TV?  I am, and that is where this next list of things comes in.  Surveys.  These companies will pay you to take their surveys.  They tell you up front how much you'll earn and how long they will take, (some are 5 minutes, some are up to 30-45 minutes), which is great because you know right off the bat if you have time to take the survey right then, or not.  Each company has their own quirks, so here's a quick description of each of them.

#1 Mindfield Surveys

These are probably my favorite surveys.  They want to know about anything and everything, which means there are a lot of opportunities for surveys and they don't get boring.  They've asked me about health insurance, dishwasher detergent, granola bars, you name it.  They also had me do a 3 week study on new types of dog treats, where they sent me THREE full size boxes of treats, one per week, to test out on Bella and see if she liked the flavor (She did.  I asked).  Another time, I was asked to test out a new type of shaving cream, rate the scent, consistency, etc.  Then you get to keep the products afterwards.  This site pays in cash, in $5 increments.  So far, I've earned $31. 

Want to sign up?  Go here: http://mindfieldonline.com/referral/1285ce94

#2. Ipsos i-Say

These are really fun surveys.  Sometimes they show you movie trailers, sometimes youtube video clips.  Sometimes it's just regular surveys.  The best part is, when you finish the survey, they ask if you want to play a quick trivia game for entries into various $1000 sweepstakes.  They'll ask you a trivia question like "What percentage of American men have been kicked out of a bar?"  You guess, and depending on how close you are to the correct answer, you get that many sweepstakes entries.  Your surveys earn points, which you redeem for cash.  1000 points=$10 cash.  Currently I've earned $35.90.

Want to sign up? Go here: http://www.i-say.com/ReferFriends/tabid/73/Default.aspx

#3. My Points

This one I'm so-so on.  It takes longer to earn points and it takes more points to qualify for cash rewards or gift cards. 4500 points= $25 visa gift card.  So far I've earned 1285 points.

Want to sign up?  Go here: https://www.mypoints.com/emp/u/editProfile.do?view=faf

#4. HCD Surveys

If you like politics (or even if you hate them) this one is for you!  It doesn't matter where you are in the political spectrum, they want to know.  Usually what happens is something will go down politically and be all over the news (the potential mosque near Ground Zero, Sarah Palin running ads for president, etc etc.) and they'll have a survey where you answer some questions about how you think things are going in the country, then you watch these ads/news clips/presidential speech clips for about a minute or two.   Then they ask the same 5 questions again to see if your viewing of the video clips changed your mind.  The cool thing about this site is, they will actually email you the results of the overall survey when they're done.  For example, after I participated in the Sarah Palin ads survey, their study showed that Republicans are more supportive of Palin after watching the ads.  Just an example.  These surveys earn points for cash, and fairly quickly.  1000 points=$10.  So far I've earned 400 points, but I started pretty recently.

Want to sign up?  Go here: http://www.HCDSurveys.com/panel/join.cfm?REFER=241019

#5. Inbox Dollars
This one is really different.  There are the usual surveys, but you can also opt to be sent "paid emails."  A paid email is an email sponsored by a company, with a link at the bottom that says "click here."  You don't have to read the email, just scroll to the bottom and click the link.  Done.  You get paid.  The actual amount per email varies, and isn't much, but on this site you also get to control how often they send you emails.  You could get up to 20+ "paid emails" a day, which is what I do, and it adds up.  This site pays cash as well.  So far I've earned $18.

Want to sign up?  Go here: http://www.inboxdollars.com/members/refer

#6. My Survey

This one also has a lot of product testing.  They've had me test one of those automatic dishwasher detergent deals where you install it inside your dishwasher and it does the detergent for you instead of you doing it each time.  I didn't know what an automatic detergent dispenser was when I signed up, so I sent it back without ever installing it, filled out the surveys they sent saying why I didn't use it, and I still got paid.  These surveys are either really few points, or really large amounts of points, not much in between.  But they're usually pretty straightforward.  They pay cash or gift cards (depending on what you want), 1100 points for $10.  So far, I have 1745 points.

Want to sign up?  Go here: www.mysurvey.com

#7. Opinion Outpost

This one has the most available surveys by a landslide.  The topics are all over the place, so you don't get bored.  They also have the option to limit how many emails you receive per day/week.  These surveys are rewarded with points, each point=$0.10, so 50 points = $5.  They send checks in $5 increments.  So far I've earned 369 points which equals $36.90.  You have a lot of opportunities to make a good amount on these surveys. 

Want to sign up?  Go here: http://OpinionOutpost.com/join/8216141


One tip I've learned while participating in these surveys is, if you're going to really throw yourself into taking these surveys, you may want to get a separate email address so it doesn't flood your "real" inbox.  Have an email address that you started in junior high?  One so embarrassing you can't put it on resumes?  Well, "hottie69@ AOL,"  here's the perfect opportunity to banish that turd of an email address for good.  Just sayin'. 

Again, these surveys do take time.  They're probably not for people who have super super busy 9-5s and don't even want to SEE a computer on the weekend.  But for those of us who ARE at home more regularly, check it out!  They really like moms.  Think of all the diaper, formula, baby food, baby ANYTHING product testing.  If your kid hates the new flavor of Cheerios, leaks through a new diaper, is still illiterate after a month of using LeapFrog...they want to know.   

A Word to the Wise

This week I learned a life lesson that I think is going to help a lot of people.  I'm confident in that thought because I know I cannot possibly be the only person who does something as stupid as the following story.

Last week, I noticed there was a rip in the sidewall of my front tire and, consequently, the tire was beginning to pull apart.  Not good.  I had to miss a baby shower because it was recommended that I not drive too far on the bad tire.  Plus, it was a weekend and all the tire shops were closed.

Monday, the fun began. I called a local tire shop, found out they aren't a Goodyear dealer, and they recommended that I contact an official GY dealer because I might be able to get a prorated tire.  Perfect! 

First, I called Honda because we have an extended service plan, and they informed me that although they would be happy to "go to bat" for me, I need to have the tire examined by an actual official GY dealer to determine the cause of the rip.  OK fine.  Then, I drove to Pekin to the GY dealer, and they informed me that the rip in the sidewall is considered a "road hazard" and since this actual GY dealer did not sell me the tire (these tires obviously came on the car when I bought it at Honda) that they themselves couldn't prorate it, so I should call Honda and see if they have any kind of agreement for road hazard warranties.  They don't.  Apparently, some time ago the federal govt. told car manufacturers that if they purchased road hazard warranties on the tires put on new vehicles, this meant if I bought a new car and got a flat, the manufacturer would have to come out and fix it, or replace the tires.  Well, shock of all shocks, they didn't want to do that so there is not one single manufacturer who purchases road hazard warranties on the tires new vehicles come with.  So basically, the next time you go buy a car, you might as well ask how much the car costs without tires, then buy your own tires at the dealership, because THOSE have road hazard warranties.  But in this particular case...I'm screwed.

And if that wasn't enough, the GY dealer also informed me that the back tires show uneven wear and over half the tread on the front tires is gone.  I was shocked!  The car only has 18k miles on it and the tire man had just finished telling me they are 60k mile tires...so what gives?  I certainly don't want to replace the ripped tire with another tire exactly like it if the tread is going to wear off that fast! 

After much discussion, it was determined that the reason for the uneven wear on the back (which is normally indicative of a problem with the car, not the tires) AND the tread being so far gone on the front is that I hadn't taken the car in to have the tires rotated yet.  Shit.  I knew it needed to be done, but I procrastinated big time.  As it turns out, you should rotate your tires every 5-6k miles, which means I should've been on my third rotation already.  Damn, damn, double damn! 

So I am telling everyone I know, especially women (because, let's face it, there is a large majority of us who don't know, or give a shit, about tires!) PLEASE ROTATE YOUR TIRES REGULARLY.  Learn from my $170 moron mistake. 

Another helpful tip for the ladies: No one feels sorry for you and wants to prorate your tires when you're wearing Prada sunglasses.  Even tire guys know that.  Not that I know this from recent personal experience or anything...

It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

Let me paint a picture for you. 

It's a beautiful fall (when did THAT happen?) day, the sun is shining, there's a nice breeze.  I've just been to the library and picked up 4 new books.  I'm driving home, Bella's riding shotgun, and I'm thinking how happy I am and how great my life is.

The seat belt alarm goes off because Bella is clearly not wearing her seat belt.  She hates this sound, so she moves to the back seat.  No big deal.

I continue driving, checking out how far all the farmers have gotten in their fields.  As I turn back to the road, I happen to look at the seat Bella just vacated.

Apparently Bella has yet to learn Skid's Greatest Life Lesson: Never Trust a Fart.  There on the seat are the remnants of a shart.

Reason #213 why I am glad to have leather seats.

Is it a Full Moon? Nope, Just Harvest!

Yesterday was just one of those days.  I should have known it was going to be one of those days as soon as I woke up, for one reason.

It's the first day of (custom) harvest.  That always brings challenges no matter how prepared you THINK you are.

First, Adam calls before I'm even out of bed.  Not a good sign.  He informs me that in all the excitement of getting started with harvest, he forgot to take the car to Havana to get fixed.  So I need to drive out to the field, pick up our farm hand and the car, and make sure everything gets taken care of.  No big deal, right?  That's my "job" since I work for him. 

In case the mere fact that it's the first day of harvest was not indicative enough that something would go wrong, I make it 10 feet out of the driveway and immediately have to pull over because there is a HORSE DRAWN CARRIAGE taking up the entire road. 

WHERE THE HELL AM I?!?! 

This isn't even one of those nice, pretty, white horse drawn carriages like you see in downtown St. Louis.  No.  This is a one bench-er, driven by two women who, at first glance, I thought were Amish.  That would explain their desperate need for "Pimp My Ride" and their long hair.  But they weren't wearing skirts.  And upon further inspection, I realized they were most likely just "ridge rich." 

I'm also beginning to wonder if they are the owners of this "vehicle" I spotted last week at Larry's. 

For my city friends, imagine if the "carriage" in the first picture was tipped forwards.  Now can you see where the horse would be tied, and the bench where the owners would sit?  Notice the cooler.  CLASSY!  The second photo is the horse that pulls said "carriage." 

The "day o' fun" was not over, though.  When I went to pick up the car, I found out our other farm hand was stuck at the popcorn plant because the plant broke down, and the trucker who was supposed to be helping us out since our Penske semi wasn't available yet, brought one truck instead of two.  Awesome.

By the time I got back home, Adam's calling again saying now our semi is available, so come back to the field, pick up our driver, go to the insurance agent's office to pick up the paperwork and head to East Peoria to pick up the truck.  Again, this shouldn't be a big deal.  We've done it before and will do it again every year.  It's part of harvest.

Wrong.  We get to the agent's office and not only is she not there, but she has a new secretary who has never been through harvest before.  So the agent left her secretary to do the dirty work which, in this case, meant dealing with the paperwork and informing us that for the first time ever, they are requiring us to drive the semi back from East Peoria to their office so they can take a picture of it.  Um...what?  I asked if I could just take a picture on my Blackberry and send it to the agent directly, either by text or email.  I even asked if I could just take a photo on my digital camera and send it to the agent directly.  No.  Why?  Because she has to download it directly from HER camera.  Ooook.  Remind me again HOW they think a semi is going to park in a parking lot that has exactly 4 spaces and nowhere to turn around? 

We arrive at the Penske office and walk in, joking about how smoothly things had gone so far, and wondering what we were walking into this year.  God bless the man working the main desk at Penske.  That phone did not stop ringing long enough for him to hang up with one person and walk 3 steps to the fax machine.  When it finally did stop ringing, what do you know?  Our agent sent the wrong paperwork.  AGAIN.  Last year, Adam and I both had to argue with her before finally Penske got on the phone and convinced her that she was wrong.  This year, I just let the Penske man handle it himself. 

*NOTE TO ALL FARMERS: If you are renting a truck, please make sure your insurance agent knows the difference between "proof of insurance" and "certificate of insurance."  They are NOT the same thing. *

Our driver and I waited for 2 hours.  Nothing.  No fax, no phone call, nothing.  Finally, I called the agent's office only to find that she was in a meeting and her poor secretary had no idea what to do without talking to the agent.  So we continued to wait.  At 3:56, the fax finally comes in with our correct paperwork.  The office closes at 4:00.  I didn't know whether to call and scream at the agent for being such a moron, or get down on my knees and praise Jesus that we got the paperwork at all.

As far as I know, they still haven't gotten their precious picture of the semi.  Hope that's not too important.  I wonder if people realize that every time they jerk us around, every unnecessary phone call we have to make, every time we have to wait around for someone else to DO THEIR JOB, it's costing us money.  R-E-S-P-E-C-T, yo.

As Promised...

I told you it was coming.  The Sheriff's Report, at long last, is about to make it's triumphant return to Growing on Goofy.  It will not disappoint.

5 accidents involving a person hitting a deer, and 1 involving a person swerving to miss a deer and hitting a tree instead.

Complaints:
-8-3 @ 10:53 AM, Havana: Check on the welfare of a man in pickup truck slumped over
-8-3 @ 1:24 PM, Cell Phone: Complaint about tire on the roadway
-8-3 @ 9:33 PM, Rural Havana: Complaint about person burning wire 
As you can see, that was an eventful day in Havana...

-8-4 @ 11:24 PM, Rural Havana: Report a male wearing all black riding a bike on the roadway.  (AHHH!  Not a black male riding a bike!  ALERT! ALERT! SECURITY HAS BEEN BREACHED!  Oh, wait...a male wearing black?  Nevermind.)

-8-5 @ 4:52 PM, Rural Kilbourne: Report 2 dogs running loose and growling at people (isn't that what dogs do?  Ruh roh, Ruby!)
-8-5 @ 5:19 PM, Manito: Report a strong smell of either meth or plastic burning (I LOVE this one.  "What does it smell like is burning, ma'am?"  "Well, it could be plastic burning...or it could be meth.  I can't be sure."  Do they really smell that similar?)
 Now we move on to the real crime of the night...
-8-5 @ 8:46 PM, Menard County: Car "setting" along the road for several hours with the windows rolled down and nobody around (annnnnnnnnnnd?)

-8-6 @ 7:10 PM, Rural Manito: Irrigation spraying on the road.  (What do these morons do when it rains?)
-8-6 @ 8:10 PM, Cell Phone: Intoxicated male laying in the middle of the SR 78. (Never been so drunk THAT sounded like a good idea.)

-8-7 @ 2:33 PM, Rural Manito: Checking on two lawn mowers on the Manito Blacktop ("Yes, ma'am, what is your concern today?" "Well...do you think they know there's no grass to mow on the chipped rock?")
-8-7 @ 5:07 PM, Bath, Boat Tavern, public service: see if someone has anything to help with a nosebleed.  (I'd love to be a 911 operator for just one day around here.  WHO calls the sheriff's department for a nosebleed?  "Officer, we've got a report of a runaway...a runaway NOSEBLEED."  WTF?!)
-8-7 @ 11:42 PM, Bath, Brick Tavern: A "mail" and female will not leave--going to start a fight (What's behind door number 3?  Another nosebleed!)

-8-8 @ 12:28 PM, Mason City: Criminal damage to vehicle, male beat car with a gun and a hammer (Not at all premeditated, I'm sure.  I always carry a gun AND a hammer, you know, just in case a car gets in my way.)

-8-9 @ 2:32 AM, Havana: Call complained about being run off the road near McDonald's.  Vehicle headed south towards RT 78 and was stopped.  Person took off on foot. (Dude.  It's 2:30 in the morning.  Everyone in there is either stoned or been up for 3 days...DO NOT GET IN THE WAY OF THEIR FRIES!)

For whatever reason, there were FIVE women charged with battery this week.  Perhaps they punched someone in the nose and stole their Big Mac?

Also, a Mason County lifetime achievement award goes to the woman from Mason City who was ticketed for: no valid driver's license, no valid registration, failure to reduce speed, no insurance, leaving the scene and failure to report.

*All information taken from the Mason County Democrat

Some Things Still Surprise Me

I know you've all missed it.  That's right, the Sheriff's Report. 

But before I get to that, I just have to mention something that caught my eye in a recent issue of the infamous Mason County Democrat newspaper. 

For those of you who don't already know, the big news around here recently was the Redneck Fishing Tournament in Bath, IL.  Basically, Asian Carp are overpopulating in the Illinois River and causing a lot of trouble, so fishermen in their best redneck gear go out all day and catch as many of these slimy little bastards as they can.  Sotally tober, of course.  Whoever catches the most fish is the winner.  Seems pretty simple, right?  Well, this year, ESPN and National Geographic (or Nat Geo, if you prefer their terrible attempt at rebranding themselves into a "cool, hip and man-friendly" channel) came down to Bath, to film the tournament for their respective programming lineups.  This was major. 

So major, apparently, that they decided a tournament winner just wasn't enough.  They put their heads together and came up with another contest, sure to draw attention to rednecks of ALL ages...the Little Miss Redneck contest.  Now, as I was not present for said event (only because I didn't know about it ahead of time...trust me, I would never have voluntarily skipped seeing this level of cluster fuck), I can only imagine what the contest rules include.  A quick scan of google news tells me the organizer informed parents their children/contestants may be dressed as rednecks or "in their Sunday best."  Although, let's be honest, those are basically one and the same in Bath. 

In my mind, Little Miss Redneck events would go something like this:
1. Instead of the swimsuit/evening wear competition, we have the camo competition.  Whoever is the most invisible wins.
2. They would combine the talent and "most photogenic" sections of the evening, with all contestants required to gut a deer.  Points awarded for speed, accuracy and, most of all, how good they look standing next to the deer in their photo.
3. Instead of a synchronized dance number, we have a synchronized decoy setup/goose call competition. First one to get a drunk hillbilly to shoot at their decoy wins.
4. And, last but not least, instead of the question and answer being about world issues, we have the question and answer session sponsored by Ducks Unlimited.  Questions include: Are you for or against hosting a fish fry in the church parking lot?  Should children still be allowed to miss school for deer season?  How do you feel about the regulation of Sudafed in the tri-county area?  Points given for creativity, grammar and pro-hunting stance.

All kidding (or was I?) aside, the girl who won is an adorable 5 year old, complete with camo shirt and hat...and her favorite stuffed kitten (A TOY, not an actual stuffed cat.  Sadly, I feel the need to make that distinction).  I don't know what the prize is for winning the prestigious Little Miss Redneck title, but I bet it involves a gift card to Gander Mountain.  Just sayin'...

A Scent-sible Outcome

We have some smelly issues going on in the Shissler household today.  I know what you're all thinking and, NO, it's not because of THAT. :) 

You may recall that last year we had some issues with our geothermal not working properly, and finally were told that it can get "stuffed up" if we don't open it up and put bleach in the drip tray every few weeks.  Yesterday, I was painting in the basement and thought I might as well go ahead and add the bleach before I forgot again.  Problem was, once I got it opened up, I couldn't remember how much bleach you're supposed to add.  So I just poured some in.  I'd estimate that I added somewhere between 1/2 a cup-1 cup. 

I guess that's too much.

Yesterday, Adam came home early from work because he thought he was sick.  (Symptoms included: tired, red faced, needing a shower.  If that is what constitutes being "sick," women everywhere should be calling in to work today.)  After his 3 hour nap, he came in and asked if I'd added bleach to the system, because it was blowing a bleach scent out the A/C vents.  I thought he was overreacting.

He wasn't.  This morning, the whole house smells like bleach and I can't escape it.  We're gonna have some major candles goin' on up in here today! :)  Whoops!  I still don't know how much bleach to add though...

There is one more scent-related issue I have to discuss.  It has recently come to my attention that many men, before they "take the Browns to the Superbowl," have developed a habit of taking off their wedding band, so as not to get it dirty.  I laughed so hard when I heard this, because I thought it was a joke.  It's not a joke; these men are dead set that it's the only way to stay clean.  So I'm taking a poll of men AND women: Do you remove your ring(s) before you go?  If so, are you right or left handed?

B&B Hell

Last Friday, I corrected an urban myth.  You see, legend had it that, particularly on specific stretches of 3-4 days during the months of May-October, a horrible thing happens.  St. Louis, an otherwise lovely city, becomes infiltrated with a plague.  Legions of creatures with blue clothing descend upon the city, shouting obscenities and jeering at our fine citizens, all in the name of baseball (though if you don't do anything for 100+ years, does it really count as baseball?  I digress).   Many St. Louis residents believe the legend's most important lesson: There are no ruder creatures on Earth than the very blue-clothed degenerates I just spoke of...Cubs fans. 

The legend stands corrected. 

In fact, I attended Friday night's Cards vs. Cubs game with two such people, and they were perfectly lovely human beings.  I didn't encounter any issues until AFTER the game.

You see, my friend and I planned a trip to St. Louis for ourselves and our husbands.  Since we always stay downtown and visit that scene, we thought it would be nice to do something a little different.  Much to my surprise, considering her poor taste in sports teams, she found a delightful B&B just outside the downtown area.  We realized after perusing their website that the owners were a gay couple, but decided to keep that piece of information to ourselves, as our respective husbands come from small towns and do not encounter many members of the gay population. 

We checked in before the game and were greeted by one of the owners, who was positively delightful.  He helped us with our bags, showed us to our rooms and, most importantly, showed us where the cookie jar was.  I love this guy! 

After the game, we headed back towards the B&B, and ordered an Imo's pizza.  Those of you who have ever tried to order a pizza after a Cardinals game can probably guess the kind of issues I was dealing with on the phone, trying to place this order: sitting on hold, barely being able to hear once they DID answer, and being rushed right off the phone, ASAP...but not without a promise that the delivery person would call when they were on their way.  I didn't think anything of this, considering that is pretty much standard practice, in my experience, when they deliver to a hotel.  We were also told (at 11:10) that it would be at least an hour before the delivery person arrived.  No problem.  We considered ourselves lucky they weren't done for the night.

We got back to our friends' room, which was on a lower floor, and decided to wait there for 45 minutes or so, then go outside and wait, so as not to disturb any other guests or the owners (who live on property).  So you can imagine our surprise when, at 11:55, my phone rings and the delivery man says he's already here.  We never heard a doorbell, a knock, nothing, so we assumed he was waiting outside. 

We were mistaken.  Apparently the doorbell only rings inside the owners' quarters, which is why we never heard it, but it was rung, because the delivery man was inside, standing there with a man who turned out to be the other owner of the B&B.  And the owner was PISSED!

He proceeded to scream at me, and the pizza delivery man, while I was attempting to pay for the pizzas.  At first, I thought he was joking, because he made comments like, "You really ordered pizzas at midnight?"  I learned quickly that he was very serious and very angry.  He began to yell about how he was startled awake in the middle of the night, from a sound sleep, by the doorbell, which kind of scared him, only to find a pizza delivery man standing there.  I apologized repeatedly, and explained that we were told the driver would call when he was on his way and they never called.  I explained how sorry I was for his inconvenience.  The pizza man apologized to me, to him, and for me to him.  He said they usually leave a note if he's supposed to call and there was no note, so he didn't realize he should call.  (Brief aside: I can understand how annoying it must be to be woken up in the middle of the night.  I can understand why he might be worried because they are located in a nice area....but there's a not so nice area a few blocks away.  It's not like I don't realize there was a "party foul" committed.) 

Did both my and the delivery man's apologies stop the screaming?  HELL no.  It just got worse!  As the pizza man was leaving, the owner began ranting and raving "This is so rude and outrageous!  I'm sorry but this kind of thing just pisses me off.  I'm the innkeeper and I live here too and my doorbell gets rung in the middle of the night and it's a pizza delivery guy?  Who orders pizza at midnight? Are you kidding me?  What are you, in a gang?" 

A gang?  Really?  REALLY?!  I understand the startled state and the frustration, but when you hear that a person orders a pizza at midnight the first thing you think of is that perhaps they're in a GANG? 

W....T....F?!?!

Now is as good a time as any to mention that I was wearing navy linen shorts from Gap, and a gray tshirt from VS with red glitter and the word "love" written multiple times across the back.  What kind of gang has a uniform of linen shorts and glitter/love?  The gay gang?  The Britney Spears Club?  Oh, I know, the infamous Former Sorority Girl Gang.  Give me a freakin' break, dude. 

I think, perhaps if I hadn't been so busy trying to not to cry, I would have laughed in his face.  But, the reality is, I was humiliated and terrified because this guy seemed totally unstable.  In fact, the only reason this whole encounter ended, was because (even after my continued apologies and promises it wouldn't happen again) this bitchy queen finally stomped off (literally, stomped) waving his hands frenetically and saying "Fine, whatever, just GO eat your (insert sassy at-ti-tude tone here) PIZZA and I'll see you at breakfast."

But we didn't see him at breakfast.  In fact, we didn't see him at all the rest of our stay there.  To be totally accurate, since I was the one who went down to get the pizza, I'm the only one who ever saw him at all.  If it hadn't been for this incident, neither my husband nor my friend's husband would've ever known there WAS another owner. 

The incident was never mentioned by the original (polite) owner.  No apology was ever given.  No free night's stay offered.  Nothing.  I guess they're pacifists.  Whatever.  Frankly, the queen diva is lucky I came down to pick up the pizza and not one of our drunken closed-minded husbands.  It could have been a lot worse, and I am (seriously) thanking God that it was me downstairs and not them. 

What's really unfortunate is that (other than the infamous "pizza throwdown") it is a beautiful B&B, very comfortable with large rooms.  The breakfast was good, the nice owner knew just how long to chit chat and when to leave you alone, as if it were a 6th sense almost.  The location is excellent, very close to downtown, but also close to more unique shops and restaurants.  Unfortunately, we will never return. 

The Goofy Food Gang (or Muffin Top Clan, whatever you prefer) will spend our money elsewhere.

Goofy Ridge, This Link's for You!

This study was conducted for my entertainment.  I know it.  Just when I think nothing is going on in the world, this little gem arrives on my desktop.  Thank you MSNBC.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/38474231/ns/health/

For those of you too lazy to click a link, here is a summary of the situation:

-It's titled "Meth Use in Pregnancy Endangers Mom and Baby."  Well, no shit. 
-Ido Solt, a doctor at Cedars-Sinai in LA treated three pregnant women in the ICU for uncontrolled high blood pressure.  '"The common denominator was methamphetamine use,' Solt told Reuters Health."  This guy is a genius! 
-Then, instead of reporting these women to the police for child endangerment, illegal drug purchase/use, whatever, he and his colleagues decided to do some research on them.  They studied 276 meth-using pregnant women who gave birth in a hospital in Phoenix, and compared them to the control group of 34k women who value their babies' health...er...did not use meth.  To the shock of absolutely no one, "on pretty much every measure Solt and his team looked at, methamphetamine users and their babies fared worse." 
-"Faring worse" included: 50% of the babies being born pre-term, 29% via C-section, 20% with uncontrollable high blood pressure and, in a whopping 10%, the placenta separated from the uterus before birth.  Not cool.  Oh, and let's not forget the 4% that died shortly after birth.
-I think my favorite, if there can be a favorite, part of this article is the section where they state that one might think it would be easy to ID a meth user, whether pregnant or not, many of the typical signs of methamphetamine usage (gaunt figure, rotten/missing teeth, skin issues) were not present in these women.  So you're telling me pregnant women aren't rail thin?  NO WAY! 

So there you have it, Ridge Rats, listen up.  Even copious amounts of methamphetamine won't get rid of that baby belly. 

Whatcha Gonna Do When They Come For You?

My apologies for the techno difficulties we've been experiencing as of late.  I think they are all resolved now, so make sure to notice the new iTunes links on the right side of this page, which will take you directly to the iTunes store. I also have a new search function, on the right side of this page as well...just in case you think I said something so hilarious you want to share it with your friends, but don't have the time to scroll through 100 blog posts to find it.  You're welcome. :)

Moving right along...Sunday was unintentionally interesting.  Adam and I were watching True Blood when his phone rang.  We ignored it...because we were watching True Blood.  Duh.  Then my phone started ringing immediately after his quit, so we thought we better pause our vampire show, since something important might need our immediate attention.  At the time, I couldn't think of anything that would be more important than whether Sookie would live or die but, alas, I was wrong.

On the phone was our good friend who drove past our house on her way home.  When I answered, the first thing she said was "I don't mean to freak you out but (which of course makes you freak out more) you need to call the police and lock your doors right away."   Oooook?
Apparently on the drive past our house, she noticed a Grand Am parked in the middle of the road, between our house and our old house (which Adam's cousin rents).  Both doors on the Grand Am were wide open and apparently 2 scurvy looking guys were wandering in the street, with no shoes on, although their shoes were in the middle of the road as well. 

I did make sure to lock the doors, but before I called the cops, I wanted to call Adam's cousin and make sure she didn't know something about these people/the car in case it was one of her friends playing a joke on her or something.  That would be embarrassing.  "What'd you do Sunday night?"  "Oh nothing, just called the cops on my cousin's friends because they were barefoot."  Right.  So I called down there and she not only didn't know anything about the situation but couldn't even see the car or the people my friend called about.  I went outside and, wouldn't you know, I couldn't see them either.  A car doesn't just disappear, especially a parked one...wtf? 

We hung up and said we'd both lock our doors and keep our eyes out for strange activity/people.  As soon as I sat down, the phone rang again, and Adam's cousin was whispering that she still couldn't see the car but those 2 guys were on her property because she could hear every word they were saying.  Now she's sufficiently freaked out because they look like they're on something, and she has 4 kids.  So she sends her fiance out to see what they're doing, and sure enough, there are the 2 weirdos right in their driveway, standing under the telephone pole.  Her fiance drives up, and immediately the 2 guys start asking if he can give them a ride.  Naturally, he declined, but was polite about it.  Not that his good manners mattered much because they immediately started calling him a "N***** bitch."  (Her fiance is white...so not only is that a totally inappropriate and racist comment, it doesn't even make sense.)

No matter how polite her fiance was, they kept screaming obscenities at him (a sure way to get a stranger to help you, I might add) until he told them he was going inside to call the police and they should leave.  When he got a hold of the cops, the dispatcher already knew the exact street number, had received several complaints already, said someone was on the way, but the officer was coming from Bath, so it "might be awhile."  The fiance promptly alerted the dispatcher that that was great, but if the 2 turds came back and start causing trouble, he wasn't going to wait for the police to take care of the situation.  I guess that comment made the police nervous because 2 minutes later, I got another phone call from Adam's cousin asking if I'd seen the creeps because the officer was driving up and down our road and he couldn't find them.  I appreciated her asking, but it's not like I was sitting outside in the dark waiting for some stupid ridge rats to come and rob me blind.  No, I had not seen them.  Buuuuuut I went outside to look anyway, and I could hear them talking, just past the treeline next to our driveway.  Great.  Luckily, the cop happened to find them about 10 seconds after I did, so I just sat on the porch and listened. 

I couldn't make out the whole conversation but from what I did hear, they told the officer that they were "just walking home" and "stopped in the driveway so they could see where they were going" (which makes no sense...if you're on your way home...don't you know where you're going?  Especially if you're WALKING?) and that "the guy at the other house down the street came out and started yelling at us." (Not true, and of course the cop knew it.)

After that, most of what I heard was this crazy, "I'm on something wicked" kind of laugh.  Not a stoner laugh, we all know what that sounds like.  This was really high-pitched and just not right.  Needless to say it was obvious to everyone who heard it that these 2 ridge rats were tweakin' big time.  Eventually the cop did let them go, but he was nice enough to stop and pick their shoes up out of the road. 

The next morning Adam and his cousin's fiance were both out and about early for work and each of them noticed that there were a pair of girls' flip flops out in the road as well...so now we are wondering whether the car that our friend initially reported was driven by some girl, and she kicked them out and drove off and left their dumb butts behind. 

All I can say is, if you're going to steal a car, you have to be dropped off by someone...so, local friends, quit leaving your keys in your cars and your doors unlocked.  Never knew when tweaker dee and tweaker dumb might be back.

Mason County Strikes Again!

Mike Armstrong, a comedian billed as a hilarious ex-cop, was scheduled to perform this weekend at Mason City Limits, a local comedy club.  Adam, myself and our friends Randy and Keri decided to check it out.

We sat along the side wall, and some random dude on the other side of Keri started a very random and very odd conversation.  I think he ended up talking mostly to himself, as neither Keri nor I showed the slightest bit of interest in his completely one-sided dialogue about all the comedians he's seen and where he saw them.  Who cares, right?

At this point, the show was getting ready to start so we figured it was a good time to avoid the random redneck and use the restroom before anyone came on stage. 

You know it's going to be a great night when, right after you leave for the restroom, the Chatty Kathy says loudly enough that both your husbands hear, "Whew!  I'm gonna have to take my wedding ring off!"

Stay classy, Mason County.

Lasik Lowdown

Most of you know that I had LASIK surgery on Tuesday.  I've gotten a lot of questions about whether the procedure hurt, how it works, how much it costs, etc.  So I'm going to answer all the questions right now.  Before I start, I should say that I don't think any of this is gory or overly graphic, but if you have a really weak stomach, you might want to pass on this blog. 


The first step is to meet with a doctor and discuss whether you're a good candidate for the surgery.  This is based on your age, how long you've been in glasses/contacts, what your prescription is and how long that prescription has remained constant.  For example, I'm 27, I've had glasses since I was 10, contacts since 13, my prescription was -3.5 in my left eye and -4 in my right eye.  I've had that prescription for at least 3 years.  All those things combined made me a good candidate for LASIK.


If you decide to go ahead with LASIK, and you are a full time contacts wearer, you have to be out of your contacts for at least 2 weeks before the surgery.  The reason for this is that contacts act sort of like a girdle for your eyes, holding everything in place...then when you're out of contacts for awhile, things sorta fall back to where they would normally be...and this can change your prescription and, therefore, how much needs to be surgically corrected with LASIK. 

Two to five days before your surgery, you have to get your eyes dilated.  That just involves some drops and an eye exam.  The reason for this is they need to measure the size of your pupils.  One of the reasons a lot of people don't like LASIK, especially younger people, is because they tend to have halos at night, especially while driving.  This is usually because when you're younger,  your pupils are naturally larger, and regular LASIK's first step is to use a blade to cut a flap in your cornea...this doesn't leave a visible scar, but there is a scar.  When your pupil dilates past the point of that scar, that's when you have the halos.  I didn't want to deal with that, especially since I have "above average large pupils."  So I went to a doctor (Scott Pinter at Eye Surgical Associates in Bloomington) who exclusively uses a procedure called Intralase.  It uses a laser the entire time, and this is supposed to eliminate the halos. 

The day of your surgery, you take 2 Advil an hour before your surgery, then you come into a regular room, they give you some numbing eye drops, and you hang out for a little while until they kick in.  Some doctors give you a sedative as well, but Eye Surgical Associates doesn't, because the surgery is so fast that by the time the drugs kick in, the surgery is over.  Then you walk into the surgery room, which is pretty plain, a bunch of machines, a bunch of nurses, and a bed, very similar to a dentist's chair but flat.

Once they have you situated on the bed, they put a little ring around your eyeball to cut off the blood vessels temporarily.  You stare straight ahead at a little red light, and before you know it, the laser is cutting the corneal flap.  It doesn't hurt at all, but this is probably the "worst" part of the entire surgery.  It feels like a little pressure, that's all.  Then they do the same thing to your other eye.  After both eyes have flaps cut, they take the little ring off, and put this device onvto hold your eyelids open, which I thought (before the surgery) would be the worst part but, in reality, I barely noticed it.  Then they have to flip back the flap with this little tool.  It doesn't hurt, even though it sounds like it would.  There are nurses there the entire time, one holding your hand, and at least one or two telling you what they're doing at every step, throughout the procedure.  It's nice to know what's coming up, even though there's nothing you can do about it.  Flipping back the flap is probably the second "worst" part, because while they're doing it, you have to hold your eye still, looking at the red light again, but once they start moving that flap, it looks like that red light is moving all over the place, so it's a very similar feeling to being drunk and having the spins.  I thought that I might throw up because I was so dizzy.  For some reason, it was only like that on my right eye though, the left eye was totally fine.  Once the flaps are flipped back, they can begin the laser surgery.  You don't feel a thing while that laser is going, you just stare at the dang red light again until it's over.  They even count backwards for you so you know how many more seconds the laser has left.  The only thing I noticed about this part of the procedure is a slight burning hair smell...and when I say slight, I mean the laser was almost done before I noticed anything, and I laid there thinking..."hmm, I think I smell something, what's that?  Oh...that's probably my EYE THEY'RE BURNING OFF! Oh boy." 

Once both eyes are done, they put the flaps back down, put some lubricant drops on them and then let them dry for a minute.  After that, they help you sit up and you're done.  Literally, the whole procedure took maybe 10-12 minutes...and most of that was flipping the flaps back at the beginning and putting them back down at the end.  The actual laser was only on for 31 seconds on my left eye and 34 seconds on my right eye...so barely over ONE MINUTE.  I cannot express to you how bizarre it is to think that my whole life of glasses and contacts is gone, over, done, in ONE MINUTE.  One minute can change your life!

When you sit up, it's a little foggy, sort of like you've been in a hot shower too long...but you can see!  I thought I was going to break into tears when I sat up and I could make out the nurse's face!  Never in my life, even when I knew I was having LASIK, did I imagine I would ever be able to just sit up and see, without glasses or contacts! 

I walked on my own, all the way back to the examining room we started in, they took a quick look at the corneas, explained my new eye drop regimen (FOUR sets of drops, one once an hour to keep your eyes from being dry, one once and hour to help reduce swelling, one 4 times a day as an antibiotic to prevent infection, and one more one-time-only that day, that's basically a super lubricant), gave me some goggles that I had to wear 24/7 until I saw them for my next-day check up, and I went home.

You go home, sleep for about 3 hours, hang out, watch TV, check your email, whatever you want.  You can do anything!  It's amazing!!!!!

The next morning, I had my post-op checkup, which was really quick and easy.  The doctor said I was doing "fantastic" for less than 24 hours after surgery, and after testing my vision with the normal eye chart, he pronounced that I can now see 20/15.  Before surgery I was seeing 20/420.  Quite an improvement, I'd say!  :) 

I do still have a little bit of a glow around brightly lit objects, but there's less and less every day, and they tell me it will eventually go away, as my cornea stops swelling. 

I recommend this surgery to anyone and everyone who can get it.  Do it now.  You won't regret it!

Save the Grandmas, Save the World!

Thank you all for your patience while I totaled up the Blogging for Betty site hits, comments, facebook friends and followers.  I had every intention of posting this blog on Monday, but I forgot that I'd have a crap load to do that day since my LASIK surgery was the next day. 

I will post later with a full blow-by-blow of the LASIK procedure, as the surgery details seem to be a popular topic of conversation lately.  Bottom line, I am seeing 20/15 less than 24 hours after LASIK.  If that's not an endorsement, I don't know what is. 

Back to our charitable donation totals!  Your efforts really paid off for the Susan G. Komen 3-Day Walk for the Cure.  Thanks to all of you, we raised $78.84!  Quite a bit more than I thought, but that's a great thing! :)  And, just to make it a solid round number (our accountant likes those!), I'll chip in a little extra and make it $80! 

Once again, my faithful readers surprise and amaze me!  The donation will be made today to 3-Day Walk for the Cure and, since every little bit helps, I hope to do this again next year.  Save the Grandmas!

Blogging for Betty: The Grand Finale

WARNING: This may be a tearjerker.

First, I want to start by saying thank you to all of you who became Facebook friends w/ this blog, "liked" this blog and commented on this blog for the past month+ of Growing on Goofy's 1st charitable endeavor: Blogging for Betty.  It means the world to me and my family that so many people care.

I struggled for most of this event, trying to figure out how to best sum it up.  How do you sum up the life and influence of one of the central figures in your life?  Well, my conclusion is...you don't! 

Anyone who has lost a grandparent, especially a same-sex grandparent who was a central figure in your life, knows how difficult it is.  You feel as though part, if not all, of your childhood dies with them.  And even though it's usually inevitable that your grandparents pass away before you, it still sucks.  I hesitate to say that it's worse when the death is unexpected (you can't say goodbye) or unpreventable (horrible diseases like cancer) than it is when old age simply claims them, but it's safe to say it's different. 

Our family experienced both ends of the spectrum.  One grandmother came out of brain surgery awake and talking, only to pass shortly after.  The other, of course, fought for over a year to rid her body of cancer, and ultimately lost that fight. 

I'd like to sum up this Blogging for Betty event by writing about how my life has changed since her passing. 
Yesterday, my sister and I realized that when she gets engaged/married, when either of us have kids, basically any major future life event...there will be no grandma to call.  No grandma to get advice from about crazy bridesmaids, your kids, your marriage, your LIFE.  Kristin and I were fortunate to always have "Grandma 911" when we were younger.  "Grandma 911" is when we kids got frustrated with our parents "not listening to/understanding" us, we could always call Grandma, and she would listen/understand and give advice accordingly (whether we asked for it or liked it, or not.  More often...not. :))  So, to the grandparents of our future children, I'd like to say, STAY HEALTHY.  I want my kids to have a Grandma 911 too. :) 

Little things are different too...not always sad things.  I pay more attention to rainbows and butterflies.  I trust my instincts more often.  I'm closer to my mom and other female relatives now.  I cry easier...but only because I have everything I want...and I appreciate it so much more now that I know what it's like to have the people and things you love taken away.

Like I said, you can't sum up the life of someone like Grandma Betty.  You can't close the door on her death as if it's just another chapter.  But what you can do is remember that her spirit, and the spirits of all the grandmas that have gone before her, remain alive, even if only in our hearts. 

I'm counting all site hits, friend requests and comments through the end of today, what would have been Grandma's 72nd birthday.  I will try to post the end result, which will be donated to the Susan G. Komen 3-Day Walk for the Cure, by the beginning of next week.  Thank you all again, for everything.

Skid Goes to Canada

People always ask me if Adam ever gets offended by me blogging about his adventures.  The answer is no.  Believe it or not, I never publish anything without asking him, and usually reading it to him, first.  He might do some crazy stuff, but I'm not a jerk.  So rest assured, the following story is rated AA, Adam Approved. 

Adam's dad is turning 60 this year, and for his birthday, Adam's mom planned a really cool 7 day fishing trip in Canada.  No girls allowed.  (No worries, there is nothing about 17 hours of driving, outhouses or mosquitoes the size of a fist that appeals to me!)

Adam is notorious for being an "efficient packer," however that is partially due to his tendency to underestimate the amount of things you will actually need on your trip.  He suggested that I help make a packing list so he wouldn't forget anything.  Ok, sure, sounds reasonable...until we sit down to make the list.  Keep in mind, I've never been to Canada, never been on a fishing trip, etc. 

Me: Ok, so let's start with the basics.  Underwear.  You're gone for 7 days, so that means you'll need 7 pairs.

Adam: What?  7?  Why?
Me: (Silence)  Um...why not?
Adam: Well, whatever, I'm only packing 5. 

(Anyone beginning to see why I wasn't too sad to be missing out on this shindig?)

As he is loading the car, I realize his packing includes: 5 pairs of underwear for 7 days, 12 rolls of toilet paper and he's mad because his new Playboy has not come in the mail.  I'm like...are you going fishing or spending a week in an outhouse?  But I digress.

In the Canadian woods, there is obviously no cell phone reception, so this was the first time in our relationship that I didn't hear from him for more than a day.  That was a little tricky, but booooooooy am I glad.  The following story is worth it.

The boys arrive in Canada.  Adam meets the Canadian man who helped organize the trip on their end, for the first time.  And after 17 hours of driving, really, whose first question upon meeting someone for the first time wouldn't be "Uh, where's the restroom?" 

This is the shirt Adam was wearing while making his "special" first impression:

In case you can't read it, it says "Merry Christmas, Shitter Was Full."  (For those of you not in the know, that's a line from Christmas Vacation.)

Adam uses the restroom, comes out, and (while wearing said shirt) has to find his Canadian contact and report that he is in need of a plunger...because the "shitter was full."  The poor Canadian man was quite embarrassed and sent Adam off to the kitchens to track down two women who could help him locate the plunger.  He found one, and remedied the situation, but I think he ended up being the most embarrassed one there.  After Adam came home, he told me he didn't think he'd be wearing that shirt anymore, as it's "cursed."

Hate to break it to you, honey...it's not the shirt. :)   

On their way home, he called me from the road, just to let me know they were all alive and uninjured.  Thinking I was being funny, I asked him if he ran out of underwear.  He not only didn't get the joke, but reported that he actually still had an extra pair. 

Ladies, hands off!  He is MINE! :)

You Might Be a Redneck If...

I'm not in the burbs anymore. 

Last week, I woke up at 6:45 AM, because the dog was in the yard, barking like a maniac.  I realize most people reading this are probably thinking "So what?  Dogs bark."  Perhaps.  But not this dog.  And not this loudly or viciously.  In a way, that's the guard dog you hope for, right?  The one whose every bark means something is awry? 

Adam went outside to check out the situation, came back in and told me to put my glasses on because I was "not going to want to miss this."  Our vicious attack dog was right.  Something was awry. 

There was a horse in the front yard.

A HORSE. 

It had no saddle, no rider, no owner...just a stray horse, munching on our lawn like it owned the place. That is, until Bella's barking spooked the horse and he began to walk down the street towards the main drag.  I had no idea what to do, initially.  My first thought was to call the pound...until I remembered we don't have a pound. 

I thought perhaps some of our horse-owning friends might recognize the horse, or at least know what to do, so we called them and they called around as well.  Nothing.

Eventually I called the County Sheriff, because I was out of other options and I was afraid either the horse would get hit and injured, and/or someone would be injured hitting the horse.  Sure enough, I'm put on hold w/ the sheriff, only to have him come back and say someone reported a similar horse missing earlier that morning, and they would take care of it.  I never heard back, but I hope the horse made it back home safely. 

Thinking about the situation later, I realized I am beginning to assimilate into the local culture in ways I am not entirely prepared to admit. 

For example, imagine this situation had happened in a suburb.  In fact, I called my mom and asked her what she would've done if she'd woken up to a horse in her front yard.  Her reply?  "Oh honey, someone would've called that in long before I woke up and saw it."  Touche.

A few years ago, I would have called animal control, PAWS, a horse rescue...something.  Last week, I could think of at least 5 people to call, off the top of my head, BEFORE animal control or the sheriff.  What's happening to me?!

But that was not the end of my day o' weird.  Nooo no.  Later that same afternoon, I was speaking with a friend from a large metropolitan area, when I was forced to interrupt my own story about the horse, to inform her that I had just driven past a local restaurant which loudly proclaimed (via sign) "GATOR IS BACK ON TUESDAYS!"  Gator.  As in...alligator?  I thought it was a hot dog stand!  I guess you never really know what's in your hot dogs, but geez! 

As I continued my drive, I noticed something coming towards me from the opposite direction...It turned out to be a rusty Ford Escort, painted a delightful shade of spray paint red...on the parts that had paint, that is.  But this rusty ride was extra special.  Apparently its owner thought so too, because he took the time and energy to replace his front bumper with a 2x4 and spray paint "FRANK" on it.  In mirror-reverse...like on an ambulance.  This way, should "FRANK" come up behind you as you sail down Goofy Ridge Road, you'll be able to read his name.  Right.  Because the first thing I think when that steel shitbox comes up behind me is, "oh, that's Frank" and not "Dear Lord, WHAT IS THAT?!" 

I'd like to think I'm not a redneck, but all signs are beginning to indicate otherwise.  In the meantime, I've compiled a short list of how to tell if you might be a redneck, for those of you who aren't quite sure.

10. If you have ever had to stand on the side of the road and have someone pick sand burrs out of your butt.
9. If you've ever gotten out of a hot tub to pee, then decided you'd rather "go" on the deck.
8. If you have an ATM in your driveway.
7. If you see a restaurant sign advertising "gator" and you actually stop to try it.
6. If you know the difference, just by looking, between a frog and a toad.
5. If you no longer notice the sound of a crop duster flying over your house.
4. If you don't think it's weird to ask your friend whether they ate their pet rabbit after it died.
3. If you can think of 5 people off the top of your head to call regarding a random horse in your front yard, and none of the 5 are animal control or law enforcement officials.
2. If having a paved driveway means you're rich.
1. If this is your church:

Little Bunny Foo Foo?

No matter how long I live in this area, certain things still surprise me.  The following is no exception.

A few weeks ago, at our weekly gathering, a friend mentioned that her 16 yr old went out to feed her pet rabbit one morning...and found it half dead.  It lives in a nice outdoor cage, and something had burrowed under the cage, and eaten the rabbit's feet, leaving it to bleed to death.  By the time the girl got to the rabbit, it was too late. 

My husband, Mr. Sensitive, asked if they ate the rabbit. 

No, no, they did not. 

This was determined for certain not because my friend said so, but by my neighbor, who said they probably couldn't have eaten the rabbit anyway, because it likely wouldn't have been good after being kept in captivity like that. 

WTF?  Where AM I? 

Did I seriously just witness a conversation about why you should/should not eat your dead pet? 

You might think after the frog vs. bullfrog incident last year, that this kind of reaction towards animals wouldn't surprise me...but you'd be wrong.

Public Service Announcement

Trashy people go to Walmart.  Not everyone who goes to Walmart is trashy, but every person who is trashy...well, they're also a Walmart shopper.  Henceforth, I will refer to them as Wal-martians.  I frequently joke that the only explanation for the Ridge rats is that a UFO must've landed and replaced all the normal people who once lived there with martians.  In case you can't make the drive to the Ridge, to see these "individuals" for yourself, just head to your local Walmart.  You'll find 'em. 

Because my sister is in social work, I've learned some valuable things.  Her most important piece of info so far was to avoid grocery stores, but especially Walmart, on the 1st day of the month, maybe even the 2nd.  Why?  Because LINK cards get filled up the 1st day of the month and the stores get crowded, have really long lines, and sometimes are short on food. 

This isn't a judgement on anyone who has/had a LINK card.  I'm all for it.  I don't want to be at Walmart on Black Friday either, for the exact same reasons...crowds, lines, no inventory. 

Anyway, I decided that May 3rd would be safe.  In many respects, I was correct.  The lines were normal, crowds were normal, the inventory properly stocked.  I walked to my car quite pleased with myself...until I actually saw the car. 

You see, I'd forgotten one major rule: Walmartians are ALWAYS at Walmart, not just the 1st day of the month. 

Normally, I park near a cart corral, because I'm lazy, and it keeps at least one side of the car from potential cart dings.  This particular day, however, all those spots were taken, so I just parked further out.  I get to my car and what do I see?  Two things:
1. A cart right up against my bumper
2. A big white scratch halfway across the bumper.

Now I'm pissed.  I've never been one of those people who freaks out over door dings, parks way out to avoid stuff, etc etc.  But this made me mad, if for no other reason than the sheer ignorance of the situation.  For one thing, there was a cart corral 2 spaces over, and one across the aisle and down.  It would have been very easy to just walk your happy ass over to the corral and deposit the cart.  There is no way the cart could've blown into the position it was currently in, so someone did this on purpose.  And what really pissed me off is that my car is black.  So if it was a bad scratch on a regular car, having black paint just made it stand out even more. 

I actually know a person who leaves their cart in the parking space near theirs when they leave...because it's the "cart attendant's job" to put it away for you.  No, it's actually not.  You walk right past the corral, you are just as capable of putting it away as the attendant.  These are the same type of people who leave their popcorn buckets and empty sodas behind in the theater because it's "the ushers job" to clean up after you.  No, it's not.  They're not your babysitters and they're not your mother.  You walk past the trash can ON YOUR WAY OUT OF THE THEATER.  You cannot avoid the trash cans.  Assholes.  But I digress...

So, due to the cart incident, I avoided Walmart and the Walmartians who don't know how to properly dispose of their carts for a few weeks.  Time to cool down. 

Last week, I put my big girl underoos back on, went to Walmart, still no next-to-corral spots.  Again, aside from the Walmartians, the store was great.  Quick, stocked, still able to rape my account blind...everything I've come to know and love about Walmart.  Then I began my walk to the parking lot with baited breath.  My car was fine (thanks God!) but my eardrums were assaulted when as I was putting my stuff in the trunk, I heard the longest, loudest burp I have ever heard in my life from across the aisle.  Because I am 12 years old, I burst out laughing.  The assailant looked up, smiled, waved, and got in his crappy car.  I went about my business, until the jackass rolled down his window, sticks half his body out and yells, YEAH!  YOU KNOW YOU LIKED IT!  Riiiiight.  Then he proceeds to sit in his gross vehicle and stare at me until I pull out of the lot which, I can assure you, was not nearly fast enough. 

All the way home I sat there thinking about what is wrong with people these days (I've shifted from 12 to 95), and it hit me...WALMARTIANS.  They can't help themselves. 

So let this be another lesson to you all...a public service announcement if you will.  Stock up on groceries before the 1st, but mostly...just avoid Walmart.  They know not what they do.

Name Nazis

Just to clear the air before I even get going on this one: I am not pregnant.  I am not trying to become pregnant.  I have never been pregnant.  Whew.  Ok.

A few weeks ago, Mom and I were discussing little tidbits of our lives.  Just general chitchat.  I mentioned that I heard an acquaintance of a friend is naming their son Emmett and that I thought it was a cute name. 

Ever have one of those moments you wish you had your camera ready? 

Oh the horrors. 

Mom: "EMMETT?  AS IN...EMMETT THE CLOWN?" 
Me: I guess...who's Emmett the Clown?
Mom: Oh you know him.  EVERYONE knows Emmett the Clown!
Me: Nope, sorry.
Sister: Yeah, no.
Mom: Oh don't act like I'm just an old fart.  Maybe it's a generational thing, I don't know.
Me: Ok, let's ask Dad.  Dad, what do you think of when you hear the name Emmett?
Dad: I don't know...Emmit Smith, the football player?
Me: Not Emmett the Clown?
Dad: No.  Who's that?
Sisters: (hysterical laughter)

In a very informal survey of every person I encountered of that "generation" during the following week, no one had heard of Emmett the Clown.  Before you all go ape shit and wonder why I didn't just google him, relax.  I did.  Apparently ETC was a popular hobo clown back in the day.  Like...back in the 5-decades-ago day.  Whatever.

I didn't really think much about it when I heard the name originally.  Maybe a passing "oh that's cute," but that's about all the brain cells I devoted towards the situation.  I guess I figured the name came from either a baby book, Twilight or the NFL player.  Who cares, really?  My mom. :)

Other names were discussed but, in an effort to keep you all interested, I'll just skip to the lesson I learned from all of this.

I'm not trying to pick on my mom here.  She was doing what she thought was right by informing me of a possible poor mental image/pre-judgement people may have if we named our imaginary future child Emmett.  What it made me realize, however, is why all those people (who I previously thought were crazy) keep their kid(s) names a secret until they're born.  To avoid this exact situation.

Because I am ignorant in all things baby, I assumed that maybe you would keep it a secret from most people, but tell your siblings, parents, in-laws, etc.  Wrong.  You see, if you tell a stranger your baby's potential name, they don't know you well enough to critique, so they say "oh that's cute."  End of conversation.  But your family, noooooo no.  They feel like they have an obligation to make sure their future extended family member has a proper name, not something that turns their initials into PMS or ASS, not something that makes them sound like a stripper or doesn't grow into a good adult name. 

The problem is they don't have that obligation.  That is the job of the parents-to-be.  And, I would guess that all the parents-to-be want is approval.  They don't know what they're doing.  They don't know what they're in for.  They want the one thing that will differentiate their child from every other child in the world (their name) to be loved and accepted by everyone.  Expectant parents don't need one more thing on their plate to worry about. 

I hope this has proved as valuable a lesson to all of you as it did to me.  Personally, when this day does come, I don't think I'll be able to keep my mouth shut...but I sure hope everyone else does! :) 

A big thank you to my mom and all the other ladies (you know who you are) who debated this subject with me, provided insight, guidance, horror stories and, last but not least, said it's ok to tell your Vietnamese nail lady because she doesn't speak English anyway. :)