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. 

Techno Terror

Two years ago, I didn't have a shred of doubt regarding my technological abilities.  I majored in something that requires you to keep up with the media and technology, and I really enjoy checking out the latest gadgets.  No one wants to become the person who relies on 20 yr. old technology simply because they refuse to learn new things.  No one wants a record player instead of an iPod.  Unfortunately, it seems as though my life heads that direction more and more lately...against my wishes!  It's almost like I possess some kind of internal magnet that destroys every gadget, every electronic device, every thing I own that includes a computer chip, battery or electric power.  Or, more likely, there's a giant cloud of meth smoke hovering over Goofy Ridge and THAT is what's causing all my troubles.  Seriously, this is the one time I'd hedge my bets on the Ridge Rats.

I compiled the following list of things that have gone bad spontaneously, through no fault of my own, in just the last year:

1. Bluetooth in the Pilot: worked fine since I bought the car, then one day I get in and it will not connect to any phone call...but phone's GPS connects just fine. 
2. The Camry: we drove to Lombard to visit Adam's brother and sister-in-law, everything worked great.  We get home, park the car in the garage, realize we pulled in too far, go back to the car to turn it on and back up...car won't start.  Battery's dead.
3. Bluray: got a new movie for Christmas, put it in, bluray needs to update, but can only do so through the internet, which it can't connect to.  After TWO HOURS of dicking around with the stupid thing, it finally works, problem solved...until this weekend when it suddenly will play movies...so long as you can read lips, because there's no sound.
4-7. Router, modem, kitchen TV and kitchen directv box: lightning struck the house and ruined all of them.  I know this because I picked up the modem and it sounded like a can of sprinkles.
8.   Office TV and Wii: Props to both Samsung and Nintendo on this one, because the tv's issue was repaired within 2 weeks and Nintendo mailed us a new Wii in 4 days.
9. Blackberry Tour: Still working on this one.  It sends texts 3x to some people, and there's no rhyme or reason as to why it chooses specific people.  It also clicks before the phone's about to ring or receive a text.  Verizon gave me a new phone, but now it's back to its old tricks.  Whatever.
10.  Laptop
11. Ipod: Miraculously, once I got an iPod Touch for Christmas, the old iPod worked perfectly.
12. Hot tub
13. Lawnmower

And, last but not least, 14. THE HIGHLANDER...do i really need to explain what went wrong with Toyota this year? :)  Needless to say, I'm glad I ended up with the Pilot!

Lord only knows what is happening around here, but I think I better hold off on purchasing any new appliances, gadgets, etc. for awhile!  Good thing shoes can't go bad! :)

White Trash Wednesday

We've all seen them.  They look like they belong on the esteemed pages of PeopleofWalmart.com.

Today, I bring you further photographic evidence that Ridge Rats are everywhere. 

This beauty was seen in the Pekin GameStop parking lot.  I know it's hard to see, but the vehicle had black and white stickers in a semi-straight line down the side that read "I'm in love with a boy from Illinois."  Particularly interesting was that there weren't any women inside the GameStop and all of the employees were straight as an arrow.  Which I'd guess means someone had to drive their girlfriend's car to work?  Bet that was a looooooooooong day at the GameStop.  Then again, whoever it was is probably the only one who's ever kissed a girl, since the staff looked like they all lived in their mothers' basements.

The next two pictures are so...beautiful, they're almost beyond words.  Well, actually, I have two words:  HOT. MESS.

This turd on wheels was seen in the Davenport Sam's parking lot.  Why does it not surprise me that whoever drives this vehicle would buy food in bulk?  You don't have to be an FBI profiler to know that the person who drives this vehicle is an overweight single woman.  But seriously, how much do you want to bet there are fast food wrappers all over the floor of this trainwreck?  Pretty sure it's against the rules to drive this thing if you're not single.  And I'm also pretty sure driving this seals your dating fate forever.  Cats it is!  I really enjoyed the custom sticker job and custom pink bumper, running boards and light covers.  What kind of sick freak would even accept a job like customizing a Ford to this level of horror?  If it weren't for the striking motto on the back window, I might think it was driven by a child molester.  After seeing the first photo, I half expected the back to say "Free Candy!" 

And you know I cannot go without mentioning the EPIC grammar fail.  Everyone see it?  On the "motto?" "Chic" is French and is an out-dated fashion term meaning stylish. It's pronounced "sheek." 

The word she was actually looking for is "chick."  Way to go, moron.

Ridge Rats abound.  Keep your eyes peeled and send me more photos of 4-wheeled nightmares. 

MC PeePants

Wow.  I feel like I'm having a word vomit moment.  Does that happen to anyone else?  You know, when you've said the same thing 200 million times, but a situation deems it necessary to up the total to 200 million and 1?  Word vomit.  It just keeps coming up and you can't stop it. 

I'm hoping everyone reading this is as sick of hearing about it as I am of blogging about it.  It being my "work status."  If you follow me on facebook, you know that my NY resolution is to cease caring about people who judge my decision to quit the Journal-Star.  I joked that although I normally hate people who use this "reasoning,"  I'm going to guess that most of the haters are just jealous.  Frankly, who wouldn't be jealous?  Who would get an opportunity like this and say, "Gee thanks but no thanks.  I think it sounds like a great idea in theory, but I really enjoyed going to 4 yrs of college, busting my ass, graduating with honors and being underpaid, underappreciated and having nothing to aspire to.  Oh, and I really enjoy the 2 hour commute each day too."  Yeah, that would be NO ONE. 

So my theory is that the haters are nothing more than Jealous Jessies.  That must mean I'm pretty freaking AWESOME and have a totally RAD life.  It's kind of sad, really.  Because what the JJs are actually jealous of are THINGS.  We have been very fortunate and we do have some nice things.  But it's pretty UNfortunate that no one seems to focus on what's actually important, like the relationship my husband and I have INSIDE the nice house.  Ok, stepping down from the soapbox.

I honestly wish that all the JJs could have seen just how awesome and totally rad my life really is, up close and personally, this past Friday night.  Perhaps after witnessing Friday night's events, the JJs might just change their JJ tune. 

Friday night, a friend of a friend was in town and wanted to see the "sights" of Goofy Ridge.  Talk about a way to start the evening!  We headed to the Mallard Club and ended up at the Hialeah.  Adam pre-partied and continued his binge throughout the night.  A friend even pointed out that it might be a good idea to lock the door to the laundry room, judging by Adam's state, especially after the infamous "Washing Machine Incident of '09." 

I was woken up at 2:30 AM to Adam shuffling down the hall.  The mental alarm bells went off, as this is how the washing machine incident began.  I hesitated, didn't bother to get up, but called out to ask what he was doing.  I can't recall his response, but whatever it was apparently merited me dragging my fat ass out of bed and checking out the situation. 

Let me set the scene.  I am still half asleep.  My eyes are partially crusted shut because I fell asleep in my mascara.  I have no contacts in, and am therefore basically blind...so the fact that the house is pitch black only complicates matters.  Now.  The hallway outside of our room is mostly tiled, but immediately outside our door is still carpeted.  This is important.

I begin my journey down the hall, stumbling all over the place (since I can't see).   By the time I got both my feet onto the tiled portion of the hallway (approx. 3 ft. from the door), I started screaming.  I was standing in a puddle.  I turned to run towards the light switch and find out what the F I was standing in...and slid down the tile, nearly spraining my ankle.  I'll reserve the ensuing string of 4-letter words for another time.  I flipped the switch, and realized the puddle was only on the tile (whew!) but stretched past the laundry room, around the corner (nearly 2.5 ft.).  And it was a puddle of piss.  So basically what had to happen is Adam got to the end of the carpet, whipped it out and peed all over the floor.  I don't know how one bladder could hold that much liquid but, then again, I'm no expert.  Even more special, past the piss pond, there are wet footprints going down the hall towards the half-bath.  How he could still have to pee is beyond me...but he did.  2 more times.  All over the bathroom floor.  By the time he was done, I was on my hands and knees cleaning up the pee pond.  He appeared out of nowhere and told me I was being an asshole because I was cleaning it up and he could do a better job.  Believe me, I welcomed that proposal, though I highly doubted its merit.  He grabs ONE paper towel, smears the pee all over the floor, including the areas it (miraculously) had not already hit.  He was therefore banned from cleanup duty and proceeded into the bedroom and transformed his nose and mouth into a lawnmower.  Nothing like being woken up to piss all over the floor, being called an asshole for cleaning it up, and then trying to go to sleep with a chain saw in your ear. 

You know how sometimes when you're really pissed, you get all these crazy ideas to try and fix the situation?  Here are the ideas I imagined, then eliminated:
-Murder
-Rubber Sheets
-Handcuffs
-Locking him in the room

As I said, all ideas were shoved aside.  Murder would only cause me more problems, and I don't look good in orange.  Ideas 2-4 all end up with me getting peed ON.

Now, in Adam's defense, he did get out the Swiffer Wet Jet and clean up all the urine residue on Saturday morning.  After I explained Piss Lake. 

So to all those Jealous Jessies out there...maybe you should focus on making your own life better instead of being jealous of mine.  Because clearly Ridge Living is totally AWESOME and RAD.  And if you're still not convinced, I know a yellow lake you can visit...

Goofy Ridge Karaokee

Karaokee can be fun and entertaining...but in Goofy Ridge it's all of the above, x10. 

Normally it's actually something I refer to as "scary-okee" because it involves topless lesbians butchering Faith Hill's top hits...at a bar that looks like a double-wide.  Don't worry though, there's a handicapped ramp....because if there's anything Goofy Ridge is, it's inclusive.  Unless you're a minority.

This weekend, however, I heard versions of the classics that were so fantastic I had to share.
You are probably all familiar with the song "The Lion Sleeps Tonight, but I bet you did not know the lyrics are as follows (I certainly didn't):
In the jungle, the mighty jungle
The lion sleeps tonight
My weiner's wet, my weiner's wet
My weiner's wet, my weiner's wet

Or perhaps you might remember The Monkees' hit "I'm a Believer."   Recognize these lines?
Then I saw her face, now I'm a believer
Not a trace, of doubt in my mind
I'm in love, Oh, I'm a believer!
I couldn't eat her if I tried

I started wondering if Goofy Ridge had its own XM satellite radio station, what it might be called.  
Meth Metal Mania?
Horses, Hillbillies and Hank Williams Jr.?
Soul Survivor...of Kissin' Cousins?

You just never know around here. 

The similarities are frightening

Anyone remember video dating from the 80s? 

I didn't, until a friend sent me a Youtube montage. 

Then, I came across what is possibly the greatest video dating tape ever. 

I now present to you: 
Video Dating for Ridge Rats

Enjoy!

Landscaping=no little job

The wonderful Marilyn from Hoerr's Nursery came yesterday to take a look at the yard (with nothing but sand), take some measurements and draw up a plan for the front yard landscaping. She was really nice and made me feel much less nervous. Why I was nervous, I don't know...but I was DEFINITELY worried there could be a possible "code brown" incident. Something about the sun really sets me off. Nothing like being overheated and sick to your stomach at the same time. Thankfully I escaped with a landscaping plan and no tummy troubles. TMI? Tough.

Since it was 900 degrees (give or take) with a heat index of 400,000, I invited Marilyn to come inside and do her drawings. She accepted and I watched What Not To Wear while she worked. I love that show. ANYWAY. I explained to her up front that there wasn't much I didn't like (I honestly believed that at the time)...except pink (ok in small doses), Bradford Pear trees (smell like rotten crotch when they bloom--side note: they had these all over Mizzou's campus when I was there...April was a terrible month. You'd think someone might have thought about that before they planted 400 of the rotten bastards.) and dandelions. Why anyone would purposely plant dandelions, I don't know...but the farmer across the road plants ragweed (which I would also have thought impossibly stupid), so I figured I better just put that out there. I'm sure Marilyn had quite a laugh about that.

As it turns out, there are a lot of things I don't like. Wild grasses, shrubs of pretty much any kind, and most yellow flowers. Irises are ok, but the rest, eh...I could do without 'em. Marilyn was very nice and asked me about a couple flowers before she put them in the design (you'd think more designers would do this), and when I brought out the laptop and started googling, well, she thought I was a genius. What can I say? I love her.
Side note: Don't most people do this? Who knows what a viburnum is without google or a horticulture degree?

The only real bump in the road was about half way through the process when she was asking what I "do all day." Ahem. I suppose a lot of people might wonder this since I'm kind of a glorified housewife w/ no kids. It's really not her fault, I guess. It's an honest question, and when I explained some of my hobbies, she dropped it.

Maybe I'm just being defensive and overly sensitive (moi? never.), and I'm not picking on her specifically --she just happened to be the last one to ask me-- but it's a little tiring to have to explain myself constantly, as if I'm doing something wrong by "not working," not to mention IN MY OWN HOUSE to a STRANGER who I AM PAYING. Ugh. Then again, maybe that explains it all right there. Why do I feel like I have to explain myself to anyone, let alone a stranger, in my own house, who I am paying to work for me. I should just be able to say, "nothing and I love it," and not have to say another word. (Even though that's totally not an accurate statement.) I think the common denominator is my own insecurity, but whatever. Is it possible to be happy, believe you are doing the right thing and still be insecure about it? It must be, because that's what's going on, apparently!

On the flip side, I challenge anyone to live on a farm and not "work." When you live amongst your work, you can't just close the door at 5 pm and call it a day. I suppose those who have never experienced it can't quite understand. Come down. I'll let you experience it allllll you want.

Anyway, Marilyn finishes up her design and kinda goes over it with me and mentions she's going to eat at Just Like Home in Manito. I'd told her about the Goofy Ridgians (children of the corn--literally) and warned her to go back the way she came, not take the shortcut on "county road 15" as Adam's buddy calls it.

After Adam looked at the plan, he noticed a lot of bushes, and became concerned that they would cover up a lot of the brick/house and wondered if they could be replaced with something else. Also, there was some wild grass in there which, truthfully, neither of us understood why we'd pay to plant wild grass when there's acres upon acres of CRP wild grass in the back yard. So I was left with the task of calling Marilyn back and explaining all of this via voicemail. I honestly considered trying to figure this out on my own and not even calling her back, because the poor woman worked for 2 hours on the design and he wants to change 50% of it. Either way, I made the call, left the voicemail and waited.

Marilyn called me back this morning with what is one of the funniest stories I've ever heard about the local area. She said, "well, I got your voicemail, but first I just have to tell you that you were right about the people in town!" Now, I'm thinking, why the F did she go to the ridge? I TOLD her what it was like and she is too suburban to handle those ridge rats! As it turns out, she was referring to Manito.

Marilyn did go eat at Just Like Home after she left and said allll the people in there (since they didn't recognize her or the Hoerr's jeep) wanted to know who she was and what she was doing there. When she explained what her job was and that she'd been doing a landscape design they were like...
"You did a design?"
"In this area?"
"In Manito?"
"Was it in town?"
She said no, it was in Topeka.
"Topeka? I live in Topeka! Who was it?"
Naturally she couldn't say without our permission.
"Was it a new house or an old house?"
"I bet it was so and so's house, they just built one."
"What road was it on? Do you remember?"
Naturally, she couldn't remember (who could remember a random country road number?)
"Well, what did she look like?"

Wow. We are the talk of the town and they don't even know who we are. Who knew Chateau de Goofy would be such an overnight sensation? ;)